#benchmates

[kalpalatas]

every time i get nostalgic about working in a lab again i am violently humbled

[saltcherry]

did not go to lab cleanup because my advisor said I didn’t need to and I feel a little guilty about it but not very guilty because I truly don’t have the energy to do hard chores for 1.5 hours picking up after people who are not me

[chichilla-life-sciences]

OXFORD BenchMate Micro Centrifuge

This OXFORD BenchMate Micro Centrifuge Closed rotor ensures better airflow and greater efficiency with quiet operation and low heat generation. This also helps to ensure stability for temperature sensitive sample.

Speed Accuracy +/- 100 RPM. The small footprint saves valuable benchtop space. The unit is suitable for use in hoods and cold rooms. Carbon dust insulation and safe drainage provisions incorporated into the design. Designed for Quick Spin Applications – Versatility, simplicity, and safety in a single unit.

Simple Cleaning – Easy-to-clean drain in case of sample spillage.

Rotor and Tube Versatility – 8-place 1.5 mL/2.0 mL microtube rotor and 16-place PCR tube rotor included. Simple Operation and Fixed Speed – Digital display with 6,000 rpm (2,000 x g) fixed speed.

[iveriee]

tom riddle x sub ! clingy ! reader

( headcanons )

— no mention of reader's gender. tom is a toxic fucking bastard. reader is desperate. emotional manipulation. kind of fluffy. sexually explicit material in the nfsw section. oral. sadism. slight crack. aftercare (?). crumbs of sub ! tom. pulled this one out of my drafts aswell. NOT PROOFREAD !! can be read as a summarisation / alternate universe of escape.

— he doesn't know whether to be annoyed or flattered, for you rarely let him get out of your sight — often clinging to him like a parasite, head buried in his chest, arms wrapped around his neck.

— at first, he finds it endearing how you pout whenever he leaves. you're like an accessory to him — a prized possession that can't live without him.

— you take his hand, oh-so-gently and kiss him every single day. you tell him everything about your day, from the tiniest fragments to entire events.

— and it's nice of you — it really is. but unfortunately it is getting tiring.

— it is getting tiring to listen to your rambles, he thinks as you go on a tangent about how you accidentally spilled ink over your benchmate and how they 'overeacted'.

— you're like a bug now.

— weak. needy. pathetic.

— and he has no time for people with such characteristics, he cannot afford to.

— so he begins to ignore you. slowly but surely he does.

— and you grow crazy.

— why is he ignoring you? what did you do even do? did you mess up?

— you try to talk to him but he doesn't pay any attention.

— fuck. fuck. fuck.

— you always mess things up. you should've never overstepped his boundaries. you should've never clung to him like a fucking parasite. you never should have.

— so you do something you never should have done. again.

— ( you'll never change, will you ? )

— you beg for forgiveness on your knees — tears streaming down your cheeks.

— and he smirks ever so slightly. a sort of sadistic delight jolts through him.

— he pats your head and tells you there's no need to act this way — and that you're being silly.

— this fucker, you think before nodding at his words.

— he fucking ignored you and now he's saying that you're being silly for complaining ?

— you decide to let it be and focus on the positive aspects: you have him back now.

— (..presumably.)

— and so it happens again — you hug him so tight that your arms begin to sore. you tell him about your day. (albeit less), you kiss his cheeks and you gawk at his intelligence and you're...happy.

— or are you?

— because beneath all that affection, you are hollow.

— he can't love you, no, — but he'll accept your affection. it strokes his ego, probably.

— and you don't mind as much as you thought you would.

* what if you try to make him jealous ? or cheat on him. ?

oh merlin. you're screwed. done for. ended. dead. because, (i) it's highly unlikely that he'll fall for your pretense and (ii) if he somehow does, he'll make sure to make that fucker's life a living hell and perhaps yours too. how dare you fucking betray him for some piece of worthless shit? how the fuck could you?

he wasted so much of his time on you. so much of his time that could've been utilised. and yet he spent it reassuring you of your worth, listening to your tangents, helping you, and being..yours. you were his, obviously, but even more surprisingly, he was, in some twisted way, yours too.

and now you cheated on him. after he took the time to be vulnerable with you, after he exposed his true colours to you, after you peeled back his cold exterior. (after he let you pepper kisses all over his face and boop his nose!)

he thought he was the cruel one. but it seems you are. and you're not just cruel, no, — you're a fucking monster. something he never thought he'd use to describe you. a word usually reserved for him, back at that stupid muggle orphanage.

* how would he react to you being thoughtful and remembering the tiniest things about him ?

he'd be flattered, really — it's his most common reaction to your shenanigans, after all. he does indeed love having his ego stroked and your dedication to him would surely do that. you remembered how he prefers using fountain quills ? how endearing. you remembered his favourite colour, his favourite subject, his boundaries, his interests—

still, it's adorable. how you take the time to memorize everything about him in that pretty little head of yours. but that's not all. let's say — you remembered his..... birthday. actually, fuck no. he hates his birthday and would probably give you a nasty glare before walking off.

there are certain things that he doesn't want you knowing, obviously and if you find out, he'll obliviate you or if he can't do that, he'd ghost you or threaten you, depending on what you know. ("love. how can you even say that I went to the girl's lavatory? you have no reason to think that. and no, i absolutely was not being a cree— what are you even on about?")

but still, I'd say his outlook would usually be positive.

* how would he react to you being jealous ?

— he would be, to say the least, amused. it would mean that you do indeed care about him. perhaps a bit too much...

— he taps his nails against his desk smugly as you pout in your classic fashion and yell at him. tom doesn't understand how you feel even a twinge of the hot, burning embarassment you are supposed to feel when acting so utterly ridiculous.

— when you finally stop ( and merlin it is after a long time when you do ) there might aswell be smoke puffing out of your nose.

— he takes your flushed cheeks and squishes them, hands digging into your flesh. when you groan out in protest, he shhs you as if you are a fucking child.

— "you're jealous." he whispers, his lips curling. and he knows he's right, by the way your eyes divert and your breathing turns ragged.

— "trust me, i am yours. why would you think that way? do you not trust me?" he then smoochs your forehead and FUCKING LEAVES !!!! the bastard leaves.

— he can't help but chuckle as he walks out. you are mortifying. ridiculous. stupid. and oh so naive. you are all of that indeed. and worse, even.

— alas, he cannot leave you. you are entertaining. overly so. ( and because he loves you but he would never admit that)

* what if you comfort him because of his past ? what if you just can't handle that the person you love had to suffer ?

he'd be... astonished. despite feigning displeasure, he would be, in somewhere deep in his heart, utterly and completely, — flattered. you. sweet you. hugging him — apologizing for something you were not even apart of. sniffling, hands softly trailing across his cheeks. you had always been affectionate, yes — but this? nobody had done this for him.

and for that, he leans into your touch; your sweet, honey-dripping kisses and words. he feels strange. a strange kind of heat creeps up his body and he doesn't know if he hates it or if he loves it. all he knows that you're the reason why the sudden warmth erupts in his stomach in the first place. you. you.

he's scared. so scared. scared that he might aswell peel back all the boundaries he's been keeping for long, held together by his sheer unwillingness to show a fleck of vulnerability. he doesn't want you thinking he's weak and even more, that...he loves you.

nfsw.

— oh shit.

— you are eager — really eager.

— and he doesn't know how to react to it.

— his drive really isn't all that high, so you have to be the one to initiate it.

— most of the time, you let him take the lead and do he wants to.

— he fucking LOVES teasing you in public places.

— he'll trail his fingers across your thighs in the midst of a class and tell you to be quiet when you whimper ever so slightly.

— and it's torturous — how he coaxes involuntary gasps out of you. how he does not give a flying fuck about your dignity.

— what can you do but sniffle and grip the table tightly, lips trembling? merlin, you want, no, need him. and there's a hot, gashing fire inside of you — all consuming, heavy and ravenous .

— he likes giving you oral too. maybe even more than he likes recieving it.

— he'd drag his tongue between your legs and you'd cry out his name and grab his hair even more tightly, all while he never breaks eye contact. you'd be the one sobbing and breathless, not him — despite him being on his knees.

— it somehow brings him satisfaction to know that you'll always be beneath him.

— he's not that great at aftercare — he doesn't know how to 'comfort' you, so he just holds you suffocatingly tight until you fall sleep.

* would he let you take control ?

not reeeeally ?? yes but also no. he'd let you be in charge occasionally, of course, but if you tried to convince him again, he'd merely chuckle and roll his eyes. ("no, love — i'm not letting you tie me up again. not after what you did. and don't try to manipulate me with those puppy eyes.")

but secretly, he would enjoy it. although he'd die rather than admit it. your eyes seem to light up whenever he says that you can take the lead and obviously.. you're quite enthusiastic and this enthusiasm translates...strangely during the act. he finds that he doesn't mind, closing his eyes and lying back for once. but it is so very mortifying to beg you for more.

[0x1lovebot]

hell’s kitchen 🔥

minho — culinary student and the next gordon ramsey (self claimed). cooking is his passion he doesn’t play around. he’s a TOTAL SWEETHEART… once you get to know him ofc. to other people he comes off as serious and cold but with his friends he’s a big softie!! he loves taking care of them even though he acts like he doesn’t. he usually sings or dance on his free time. when it comes to cooking he likes doing things his way which makes him not the best partner.

hyunjin — art student. sucker for romance! loves cheesy rom-com movies and always gets his friends to watch them with him. they act like they hate it but they’re liars. he doesn’t really have a job but he sells some of his pieces to make money. people love his oil paintings. when he graduates he wants to be an art teacher. has serious cuteness aggression. he’s really nice to everyone he meets and very easy to talk to.

felix — culinary student #2. he just so happens to be benchmates with minho as well. they’ve been friends since high school. this man is the acts of service king! it’s his love language, especially baking for people. he loves baking for his friends. very sweet and kind to everyone he meets. he spends any free moment he has gaming. roblox addict.

jisung — singer songwriter and major music nerd. he loves making music and sharing it. he doesn’t really care about making it big. has a huge record collection and is always trying to add to it. works at plant co. full time to fund his record collection. very unserious person. loves to crack jokes in situations where jokes should not be cracked.

jeongin — cashier at a record shop. he actually met minho and his friends while he was on the clock. jisung was wreaking havoc in the store😭. out of all of them he’s the most normal. he’s introverted so he doesn’t really like talking to people but he’s very helpful and understanding. he’s also the main victim of hyunjin’s cuteness aggression. another music nerd. this boy will eat anything so minho and felix always go to him when they want to test out new recipes.

← masterlist →

🔖 — @savgogh @gongiz @ferxanda @binchanluvrr @realrintaro @estella-novella @tinyelfperson

© 2024 copyright. all rights reserved. @0x1lovebot.

[akawrites000]

when two people meet and they belong together on some level - a prompt list

again, this can be used for anyone - close friends, s/o, crushes. please feel free to change pronouns as you see fit :)

A and B are benchmates, and by the end of the lecture, they've managed to become more than strangers, and people with common interests. They exchange numbers - "can I have your full name?" "sure, but why?" "I just like to store the full names of people's contacts that I'm going to save."

A has never eaten out with their new friend before, so they're pretty nervous because they eat differently? compared to the locals. "i'm sorry, but can I eat with my hands? I just feel more comfortable doing it." B just smiles kindly at A, and A immediately feels at home, despite being miles away from it. "of course you can, please be comfortable!"

A introduces their cuisine to B and B absolutely loves it. "I can't believe I've never had this before!" "do you like it?" " of course! this is easily one of the best meals I've had in my life". Then they both grin at each other and continue to spend the upcoming hours in the restaurant, smiling, chatting away and having a jolly time. (the restaurant people are nice because they don't get kicked out xD)

A teaches B how to eat food from their cuisine and B follows obediently. A is so impressed by B's efforts, just looks at B with a fond smile while B is busy trying to eat the food correctly. "am I doing this right? can I eat this with both hands?"

B invites A over to their place for Halloween and A is so pleasantly surprised, that they can't believe it. "You're inviting me over? really?" "of course! I'd love to have you over if you'd like to come!" A later gets to know that B themselves was a transfer student who went to another country to study, so they can understand the feelings of an international student. A was just so touched and couldn't stop smiling.

It's A's first Halloween and B watches them smile and get excited about everything with a fond look on their face. A turns to them, almost shy, "um, i- I didn't really bring any Halloween clothes," and B has to try really hard to hold in their laugh because A was just being really cute right now. "I can help with that," - B finds a pair of cute purple socks and a headband for A to wear and A's excitement lights up B's entire evening.

"so, do you invite people often?" you seem to be a really good host." B, surprised, "ah, thank you for saying that, but actually, no, I don't." A smiles at the answer and they continue watching the movie playing on the tv, a comfortable distance between them, feeling warm despite the cold winds outside.

B watches A order their usual and smiles at them, "hot chocolate as usual?". A nods, happy with their favourite drink in hand. "What are you getting?" B points to their plate, "oh, just a plate of strawberry cheesecake, I really like these." A makes a mental note of it.

At the cafe again, weeks later, after class, "one hot chocolate and one strawberry cheesecake please!" B just stares at A, dumbfounded, "you remember!" "of course I do!"

"do you want to talk? I don't want to go home just yet." A and B walk over to a bench on their campus and proceed to talk into the evening until A had to catch a bus back home.

A spots a duck upside down in a pond and immediately texts B (who's absent that day) - "uhh, a duck is upside down and I'm worried about it." A doesn't know but B was wheezing while texting back, " that's normal don't worry, it's just feeding." A lets out a breath of relief, "thank goodness! I haven't seen a lot of ducks in my hometown." "I can tell."

A and B compare their hand sizes, after which B holds A's (much smaller) hand. "your hands are so small, no wonder you get cold easily!" A just smiles happily and holds B's hand tighter.

A and B spend the whole day together and then can't stop thinking about it after. "is it weird that I'm grinning, still thinking about how fun today was?" "no, because I'm still thinking about it too."

[justyoursimpleflower]

Pumpkin's Father And Your Lover

Pairing :- Sirius Black x reader

Word count:- 2.7k

Summary:- Sirius and you find a kitten, apparently she is a matchmaker

Warnings:- swearing, some sexual tension, i think that's all?? Tell me if you find more

A/N:- Hello everyone! Yes, I have started writing again after one and half years and you can guess i am really rusty so be kind please. Also, I am opening my requests, if you want to, drop in some, characters can be either marauders, except peter, billy Russo, tasm!Peter Parker or aleksander morozova. Thank you! Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated!

The Great Hall echoed the chatters of students from all the houses. Some hushed whispers and some loud laughs, some bright smiling faces and some silent tear stained faces.

Your body shook with giggles induced by a certain sarcastic prefect from Gryffindor, you were met with a nudge on the knee from the victim of the remark who was pretending to give you a glare.

You just grinned at him and got one in the reply.

You still didn't believe how the cliché meeting with the raven haired boy had turned into this, this beautiful friendship.

When in your fifth year you met this gorgeous owner of the gorgeous eyes, you never would have guessed where it'd take you.

"Mr.Black that's enough!"

"But it wasn't me, professor! I swear it wasn't me this time!"

You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from bursting into a fit of giggles. Your benchmate, or to be precise, Remus Lupin, the embodiment of a disciplined, sweet, honest guy had been flying paper planes from the last ten minutes of the transfiguration class, making them land beside the professor's desk.

Oh and if that wasn't enough, they were charmed as when they landed, the paper shredded into fragments while in the voice of the victim, Sirius Black, a very bad redemption of ' D'yer Mak'er ' would sound out in the class.

Somehow, one day Remus Lupin sat next to you, a trade of your giggles and his witty remarks was made and now both of you were benchmates.

"Well then who was it?" Mcgonagall asked.

"I don't know, professor! Obviously someone who hates you! And you know that can't be me, I love you with my whole heart!" You snorted behind your hand at his imitation of puppy dog eyes. He was definitely good at it.

"One more time Mr.Black, and you would be serving a week's detention."

"But professor —"

"Enough!"

"Everyone back to work!" And with that, the students went back to work while you were still giggling with the sandy haired boy next to you.

"I can't believe you are so cruel to him, he is your friend!" You asked in fake shock and a grin on your face.

"Well that's what he gets for stealing my chocolates." The boy snorted.

"I knew it!"You both were startled by the sudden voice from behind you.

Sirius was standing behind you both glaring at you two.

"Mr.Black, why are you shouting in the class?" Professor asked furiously.

"Professor, it was Remus who was doing it all! I just heard him saying that!"

Remus and you both turned back towards the professor, with guilty looks on your face and accepting the accusations.

Mcgonagall looked disappointed but just shook her head.

"Mr.Lupin, I would expect better from you, but that would be wrong since you are part of this baboon group."

"Professor!" Four different voices shouted at the same time.

"Professor, we are 'The Marauders'." Peter said, puffing out his chest, followed by the other three.

Mcgonagall just shook her head and said,

"Alright, Mr.Lupin, shift back to your place with Ms.Evans and Mr.Black you take Mr.Lupin's previous place."

"But—but why?" Sirius shouted, his eyes wide.

"Well because I said so." Mcgonagall set him with a look that said no more arguments.

He sighed then said,

"But no detention for these two." You stared at him wide eyed.

Arsehole.

"Considering their previous records, no."

You smirked looked back at him with a look that said,

'suck it'

That was your first interaction with him and many more after that which lead you two here right now, near the lake sitting under a tree. Well you were sitting and he was lying next to you.

"Do you think the merpeople in the lake would be offended if we gave them fish food? Or if we give them our food."

"What I think is that Sirius, why are you thinking that, of all the things you can think of you thought to think about that thing."

"You hurt my brain."

"Surprised you have one."

He glared at you while you just grinned at him.

He closed his eyes and you were suddenly hit by the realisation how beautiful the boy next to you was.

It would be so easy to fall in love with him. Sirius was, if not the most, one of the most beautiful guys you have met.He was charming, he was beautiful and most of all, he was caring, in his own way. You were jealous of the girls who could touch him in a way that you could never, girls who had the opportunity to look in those eyes and get lost in the cosmos held behind them, girls who could hear his raspy voice, the breathy whispers that escaped him the haze of pleasure.

You closed your eyes and tried to shake off the image in your head. Your palms were suddenly getting sweaty and you felt suffocated.

A small mewl sounded near you. Shaking you out of the daze he put you in, and hadn't even done anything yet. Sirius sat up and looked around, like you, to find the source of voice.

Looking around, your eyes found a pair of big brown eyes staring at you and mewling. Standing up, cautiously you made your way towards the feline and bent to scoop her in your arms. The little kitten was calm, nuzzled her head in your arms making you coo at her.

Sirius, surprised by the sudden change in your demeanour, stood up and made his way towards you, kneeling beside looking at the small animal in your arms.

The ginger white fur poked out of you embrace and a soft expression masked your features as you gently caressed the fur.

He was jealous. He was jealous of the feline and how it had taken her so little time to take you away from him. But at the same time he was thankful. He was thankful because sitting there, kneeling beside you he could see the sunlight reflecting from your hair, the soft tug upwards of your lips, the pretty smile he longed to watch at every waking moment, the soft gentle eyes he would love to get lost in and never to find a way out of. It was maddening how much he adored you. He adored you more than he could feel, you made his heart feel full, and yet always light like it was filled with nothing but love for you. You made him feel drunk on the oldest wine, always in that daze, but he had never tasted one.

It would be so easy right now. So easy to learn forward and brush his lips to your cheek, so easy to tangle his fingers in your hair, so easy just to close his eyes and get lost in the dream in which you were his.

He snapped out his daze when you called his name.

"Siri, look, she's so cute, isn't she?" A soft smile plastered on your face, you looked at him and he wished that you would always look at him like that. He raised his hand to brush it against the fur of the kitten, who raised her head from your arms and nuzzled it around his fingers.

Choked on emotions a raspy hum sounded out of him.

The kitten now had her whole attention on him. Before either of you could comprehend what was happening, she jumped out of your arms, towards him.

Acting on instinct, Sirius caught her mid air and brought her to his chest while both of you stared at her, wide eyed and with wild expression, she just mewled and snuggled close to him.

"Merlin, she nearly gave me a heart attack." Sirius breathed out.

Now that you were out of shock of the stunt the little creature pulled, you watched as Sirius pulled her closer to his chest and how he ran his fingers to her fur.

"Aw, look at that. The bad boy, player Sirius Black turning soft for a small kitten." You cooed, pinching his cheek.

A warmth spread over Sirius at your gesture but quickly recovered and countered back,

"I am not getting soft."

"You are."

"Not."

"Are."

"Not."

"Are."

"Not."

"Are."

"Not."

"Not."

"Are."

"Ha! Gotcha ya."

He scowled but you saw a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Very mature darling, very mature."

"Learnt from you, darling boy."

Sirius was sure if you called him that one more time he was going to combust. He swallowed the lump of emotions and took a shaky breath, calming himself down.

Merlin, what have you done to him.

"Oh, is that so?" He raised a brow at you, a smirk adorning his face now. There he was. The cocky Sirius Black you knew. And you also knew nothing good came out when his voice changed to that tone.

He slowly set down the kitten from his arms to the ground beside him, who quietly obeyed and sat there without much fuss and meowed at him.

"You want to take it back, love?"

Fuck. Why is that so hot?

"What do you mean, Siri?"

Oh he is dead. But so are you.

And then, hell broke loose. His fingers worked around your ribs, making you giggle uncontrollably. He kept working his fingers around you and then one moment he was sitting beside you, the other, you were splayed over the grass and his body hovering over yours with his hands now splayed along your sides.

As your giggles died, you opened your eyes only to be met with silver ones, staring back at you. Your breath hitched and maybe his did too. The intensity by which his eyes bore into your, taking in all your features at once. His eyes stopped at one point and you knew what was going through his mind.

If you just leaned enough…

You both broke out of trance when a mewl from beside you erupted making you both look at the feline who probably didn't like the lack of attention. It made you both giggle but something changed in the air, and you both knew it.

"I can't believe you are taking her as a pet."

"Well believe it, because I am." You countered back.

A tsk sound from your left and you looked at the bespectacled boy next to you and frowned.

"What?" You asked, irritation evident in your voice.

"You are hurting our dear Sirius." James said, shaking his head in mock disappointment. You raised your brow in question

"You are breaking his heart." Remus joined in.

"You should know better." Peter contributed.

"What is that supposed to mean?" You asked Remus, only acceptable one to give the answer.

"A cat for a dog, really?"

That made all the occupants of the group laugh out loud. Your voices echoing over the great hall, making everyone dining in, give you an odd look.

"Shut it, Lupin." The victim grumbled from your other side.

"Aw, don't be mad Siri, Pumpkin loves you." You cooed, pinching his cheek.

You could feel the heat rise on his cheek but chose to not comment on it.

"Pumpkin? Really? That's the best you could come up with?"

"Well, then you should have suggested me names, when I asked you."

Before the argument could get more heated, Lily butted in and asked a real question.

"How did you get the permission to keep her?"

You shrugged your shoulders and looked at Sirius's side.

"He asked for permission, ask him."

Sirius looked a bit hesitant and then said,

"I…have my ways."

Unbeknownst to you the other three marauders shooted smirks towards him which he countered by a subtle gesture.

"You went through all that, just for a cat."

"Not for a cat, wormtail, for the love of his life." James replied back in a sing-song voice earning a smack on his head by the raven haired boy.

In the secrecy of the dorm now, Sirius told the marauders about how he got the permission to keep the cat.

"You went to Minnie, begged on knees to her, then to Dumbledore and did the same for that cat. Wow, Padfoot you must really love that cat." Remus teased the boy earning a kick on his shin.

Sirius grumbled something under his breath, making all the marauders give him a questioning look. When he noticed, a blush crept up his neck and he repeated his words, much more coherently.

"Not a cat, 's Pumpkin."

A loud laughter echoed from the boys dormitory.

Whilst downstairs, Pumpkin was getting restless and was trying to scratch every object in sight.

"Oh my, what are you doing?" You exclaimed taking her away from the table which had a scratch mark on one of its legs.

You were getting irritated by her behaviour and were about to ask Lily what to do when the feline ran out your arms towards the boys dormitory stairs.

Wide eyed you quickly ran, following her.

In the seventh year boys dormitory, a panicked Peter was looking at James being pinned down by a furious Sirius, sitting next to an amused Remus. All that brawl being started by a simple comment such as

"You are worse than me with Lily." By the pinned down boy.

That was the scene you walked in on. Pumpkin supposedly wanted to see Sirius and somehow knew where to go, leading you to walk in that scene.

"What the hell?" Your surprised words apparently broke them out of trance, making them look at you.

You scooped Pumpkin in your arms, who was still restless, and looked at all of them, James and Sirius now returning to sit on the floor.

"Why was James being pinned down by you, Sirius? Am I missing something?" You asked, looking wide eyed at them.

It was James who spoke, panic evident in his eyes,

"What — no—what are you saying— no, shit, I was just teasing him about his feeling for you—"

Everyone fell silent after that except your kitten. Everyone stared wide-eyed at James, while some had amusement in their eyes (Remus, Peter) some had horror (Sirius, You).

Oh. Oh.

You knew that feelings were mutual. You just wanted confirmation. You knew he would never say anything, you knew because of his past, he was scared, he had told you, had broken in your arms. So you will have to, no matter how much it scares you.

Moving towards where he was sitting, you kneeled in front of him, Pumpkin slipping out your arms towards his lap.

From the corner of your eye, you saw the other leave the room.

He was not looking at you, but his fingers had absent mindedly started running through the kitten's fur.

It was now or never.

Gathering all you courage, you asked,

"Is it—was it true—what James said?" He was still not looking at you, but you could see his shoulder tensing and for a moment you were scared. You were scared that maybe you were wrong. But then he nodded his head. It was barely a movement but it was.

Relief flooded through you and you took a shaky breath. Oh how many times had you dreamed about this moment. Your happiness was unexplainable at that moment. It was much more thrilling to know that he felt the same rather than an instinct.

You lifted your hand, touching his cheek, making him look at you.

"Then, Mr.Black, would you do me an honour of sharing custody of Pumpkin with me? Would you do me an honour of being Pumpkin's father?"

You saw the flicker of emotion in his eyes and the way they lit up at your words. Setting Pumpkin at side, he took your face in his hands and kissed you. And it was nowhere near your imagination, it felt well beyond and you couldn't be more happy.

You both didn't stop until a mewl sounded from beside you, making you both huff out a laugh when the small feline crawled between you two.

You looked up at Sirius who just smile and said,

"I would love to be Pumpkin's father and your lover."

[moonstruck-poet]

Soft Spot

Pairing - Severus Snape x platonic!reader, Wolfstar x daughter!reader

Summary - Severus Snape, the sworn enemy of Sirius and Remus Lupin-Black maybe does indeed have a soft spot for their only daughter.

Warnings - teasing, bullying

Requested by - @roselilasstuff Hope this is good enough and thank youu<33

It was early morning, the rays of the sun just peeking over the lush green mountains to shower the world with warmth. The golden light clashed with coppery-brown irises, making them look like pools of melted honey.

You smiled from your place on top of one such small hill overlooking the gorgeous, crystal blue lake of Hogwarts.

Half an hour more, you muttered to herself. Thirty minutes more till a new school day will begin, till the Great Hall would be filled with the chattering of students, till you would once again be the object of non-stop staring.

You sighed bitterly. Five years had passed but to no avail. Every year brought new students who proved to be worse than the previous ones.

"There you are!" George Weasley's voice broke through her inner turmoil as he came sauntering towards you, slightly breathless.

"Morning George," a smile replaced that resentful frown. "What brings you here this early in the morning?"

"Nothing just wanted to talk to you," he grinned suspiciously making you narrow your eyes at him. "Come on," he urged and you let yourself be pulled by one of the few friends you had successfully made.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Got a new one scarface?" Pansy Parkinson, a measly third-year yelled as soon as you set foot in the Hall.

You rolled your eyes, keeping them straight while making your way towards the Gryffindor table. But suddenly it seemed as though millions of eyes were burning holes on your neck, right where you had indeed gotten a thin but long scar.

"Five points from Slytherin, Ms Parkinson," McGonagall said sternly and shot a sharp glare towards the younger girl who merely scoffed before smirking.

Sitting down at the table in your own secluded corner, you piled up your plate with whatever was within reach, not bothering to ask anyone for some syrup or jam.

Your eyes flitted to your timetable to check what all classes were awaiting you and you smiled amidst a huge bite of bacon. There was double potions today and in spite of it being one of the most hated subjects, you were proud to have excelled in it.

So as soon as the clock sounded, signalling the start of classes, you wasted no time in swinging your backpack on your shoulder and darting out of the hall. Your fellow classmates too followed your lead, not wanting to face the wrath of the Potions Master at the beginning of the day.

The dungeons were always particularly cold, so a black leather jacket, obviously a gift from your dad was snug over your frame, providing a great comfort. However your Papa's sweaters would always be the best, not that you'd tell the former about that.

Grinning at the thought of your parents you pushed open the door and sat in your allocated places which was not favoured by the others who wanted to sit with their best friends. Though you didn't seem to mind as you always worked better alone.

But maybe luck was indeed on your side as you had gotten a pretty good benchmate.

"Nice to see you smiling," Cedric Diggory laughed and sat beside you, taking out his textbooks and keeping them neatly on the table, his action mirroring yours.

"Why thank you, Ced," you chuckled back but then winced as your cheeks stretched, leading to a burning sensation from one of your fresh scars.

The Hufflepuff looked concerned but you shook him off, giving him a tight smile. The last thing you wanted to for someone to overhear and start a rant about how delicate and fragile you were.

The doors suddenly slammed shut and in strode Severus Snape, black robes billowing dramatically as he walked towards the board and flicked his wand.

The class watched in silence as instructions began appearing of the potion they were supposed to brew today. He then turned around swiftly, his dark beady eyes scanning every face to spot any shenanigans but thankfully every person was focussed.

"Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: The Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation," he spoke, his voice barely above a mutter but it was carried evenly throughout as the class listemed with rapt attention.

"Be warned, if you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing," Snape paused and upon receiving several nods he gave them an approval to start.

Everybody immediately hustled around to grab the ingredients, but it was all done in a systematic way thanks to the presence of a teacher who you wouldn't ever want on your bad side.

"Alright then should I get a ingredients and supplies? You're much better at this than I am," Cedric scratched his neck with a shy smile and you nodded in reassurance.

"Yep that'll work, thank you".

After an intense amount of time along with the passing of several strange incidents, it was time to stir the potion seven times both clockwise and anticlockwise and then allow it to simmer.

"Five, six, seven.. done," Cedric muttered and then checked his watch for a timer of exactly seven minutes. "And now we wait".

You sighed and pushed your slightly moist hair away from your face, "Now we wait".

The boy beside you suddenly went rigid and you looked up quizzically to only get the reason for his stiffness.

Snape was now taking rounds through the classroom as the potion was to be ready soon enough and you too looked at him nervously as he scanned your cauldron with narrowed eyes.

But then to your surprise his eyes actually softened and his hardened face relaxed. Cedric was nearly jumping with joy on receiving a nod from the teacher which most certainly was one of the highest forms of praise you could get from him.

"You must add the hellebore now, lower the flames and then allow the potion to simmer for exactly seven minutes," Snape's sharp voice snaked through the soft chatter. "If brewed correctly, the potion would emit a silver vapour".

"Godric have mercy," you whispered and lowered the flames while Cedric put on the timer and you both held your breaths, burning holes in the cauldron.

"Time's up!"

There were many mixed reactions, but a majority were definitely unhappy with whatever the hell they managed to brew. It certainly did not look like the draught of peace or even close to it.

You two simply stared as slowly silvery grey fumes were coming from the cauldron and gour face stretched wide in a triumphant grin while he bounced slightly on his feet, feeling so elated that he pulled you in a victory hug which you were more than happy to join.

Unknown to everybody else, the Potions Master allowed a small smile, or actually a slight twitch of lips to escape his stone cold persona. He was undeniably proud at the not so small achievement on one of his finest students. Yes, one of his finest.

He had trouble admitting it to himself but after all it wasn't fair to judge someone based on their family. He had experienced that first hand and was now making an effort to be a more decent person.

Atleast in the case of you. Speaking of Harry James Potter, that was a much bigger problem seeing as he totally loathed that child.

"Five points to Gryffindor," he muttered under his breath when you submitted the vial filled with the perfectly brewed concoction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[kdramastrix]

I'm in my Kang Yohan feels so I'm going to talk about him now and make it everyone's problem.

Thinking about how Kang Yohan has always loved, loved, loved so enormously, selflessly, without a single expectation. Without ever demanding anything in return. That too, from a very young age.

Everyone he ever loved, he never dared to hope for it be retaliated. Never. Not once. Abandoned just because he was born, I think he just assumed he was an unwanted entity that no one wanted the burden of. That because he was so disgusting for just existing, it would be silly for him to ever imagine the prospect of love. And then his father's attitude and his mere presence in mansion cemented it in him that he was only capable of love, never deserved to have it back.

He loved his Nanny but never expected her to treat him like a son. He loved Isaac but never expected him to understand him. He appreciated the girl in his class who wholeheartedly agreed to be his benchmate but never hoped for her to befriend him. He loved Elijah, so very much, so deeply, yet never even thought she'd love him back or value him enough to keep in her life.

His focus was always giving his best to the people he loved. Never receiving it.

Which is so heartbreaking to think about. Because it is innate to expect. It is innate to want to be loved back. It is a basic human need to feel cared for.

And yet, Kang Yohan never in his life thought he deserved that.

Then came along Gaon. For the first time, he asked to be chosen. He asked to be loved back. When he crudely suggested to Gaon to throw his friend out of his life and embrace him.

Only to be left again because he had suddenly dared. He had suddenly desired to be loved back, just a bit if not fully.

And look at where that got him.

Just. He deserves so much love. Life has been so cruel to him from the beginning, from the very first day. He was deprived of affection and warmth and yet he is so utterly full of it.

I wish nothing but all the great things in the world for him.

[mighty-ant]

Shadow's Bane, Chapter Twelve

ao3

Chapter 11

Lena’s knee bounced as she stared down the clock in the center of the station. 

There were still twenty-one minutes until her bus was scheduled to arrive. How was that even possible? She had to have been waiting an hour already, each second scraping by like Sisyphus’ stone inching uphill. 

Was Father Time a real person? Lena wouldn’t be surprised. Maybe her dad had bribed (or threatened) him into slowing the Earth’s rotation, to make it impossible for her to leave before they tracked her down. 

Lena tangled her sweating, shaking fingers in her frayed sleeves and choked down her pounding heart, pushing it out of her throat and back into her chest where it belonged. She dreaded discovery. Months of planning, of building her courage, could be undone in seconds if Beakley used her super-spy brain to find her. 

What would she do if she looked up and actually saw Beakley’s broad frame coming toward her through the crowd? Or Launchpad, stumbling and panicked? Would she be able to stand her ground, look them in the eye, and tell them she made her decision? That she was leaving and they couldn’t stop her? 

Lena wanted to say yes. She wanted to be resolute, unwavering. Of course, she also had a half-baked plan to hide in the nearest restroom and lock the door behind her. 

The daughter of the world’s greatest adventurer, afraid to stand up to her old nanny and her dad’s driver. What a joke.

“Are you okay?”

The gentle voice startled Lena out of her mental spiral, and she jerked back to meet the wide, worried eyes of the duck beside her. 

Right. How could she have forgotten about her benchmate? 

Lena hadn’t really expected to have an interaction with the girl whose doll she rescued beyond a thanks, see you never. But Webby, ‘technically Webbigail but nobody calls me that,’ defied expectation. 

After introducing herself, she rambled about the aunt who was going to pick her up, but hadn’t arrived yet. Visibly anxious over her aunt’s lateness and doing a poor job of hiding it, she’d craned her head back and forth like that would make her magically appear. 

“First time traveling alone?” Lena had asked. 

Webby smiled weakly, twisting the straps of her dirty, heavy-duty backpack. Seriously, what was she carrying in there, bricks? “Am I that obvious?” 

Lena shrugged. Thanks to her dad, she had years of practical experience.

She’d long since gotten over the fear of being alone, but Lena would never forget that first trip, the first school, all the way out in desolate Maine. And in a move that would’ve stunned five boarding schools worth of girls and administrators who accused her of being an antisocial, spoiled brat, she jerked her head at the stretch of open bench beside her.

“You can wait here, if you want.” 

But now Lena was starting to regret her spontaneous moment of female solidarity. Are you okay? What kind of question was that? She was unraveling at the seams and this girl acted like it was any of her business? 

Eying Webby’s own disheveled appearance only a little (or a lot) meanly, Lena couldn't help but snark, “Not to be rude, but you’re one to talk.”

Webby blinked, her haggard face blank with confusion. Once she followed Lena’s line of sight and glanced down at her dingy hoodie, she actually laughed instead of taking offense. “Oh! Yeah, sorry. I’ve been on buses for the last twelve hours and during my transfer in Mouseton they lost my luggage with all my clothes inside.”

She only sounded a little put out, but Lena winced all the same, shame burning the back of her neck in a hot rush. She probably wouldn’t be complaining about her cushy six a.m. flights anymore. 

“If only you’d lost that instead,” she tried to joke, nodding at Webby’s hoodie again. 

Webby plucked at one threadbare sleeve. “Oh, this isn’t mine!” she said, only to hesitate. “I mean, it’s mine now I guess.” 

“You stole it?” Lena would almost be impressed if the hoodie wasn’t objectively ugly. It looked old, and not the high end ‘distressed’ kind that the richie rich kids went for. 

“No!” Webby gasped. “It found it in–I mean, next to–next to the trash.”

“What?” Lena squawked, shrill in a way that would usually mortify her. “That’s nasty! Take it off, throw it back in the trash.”

Webby’s expression fell, which Lena shouldn’t feel guilty for but did anyway. She clutched at her trash hoodie. “I-I know it’s gross, but it’s all I have right now.”

“Here.” Without a second thought, Lena started shrugging off her leather jacket. 

Webby’s eyes practically bugged out of her head. “What? No!” She frantically waved Lena back. “No! I-I can’t take that from you!”

Lena rolled her eyes, shoving her jacket into Webby’s hands. “I got it for ten bucks at a yard sale. I’ll live.” 

It was the least Lena owed her, after making fun of her clothes like a complete tool. The last five years of fending off preppy snobs clearly hadn’t done anything for her social skills, especially when it came to perfectly normal, nice people. Webby might be the first person she’d ever had a real conversation with who didn’t know who her father was. She couldn’t screw it up more than she already had.

Webby hesitantly accepted the jacket, eyes flitting between it and Lena’s face, like she was waiting for Lena to say gotcha and snatch it back. Lena’s stifling embarrassment eased some when Webby finally pulled off her gross hoodie. She was wearing some sort of camo top underneath. 

“How’s that? Better?” Webby asked shyly once she had the leather jacket on, raising her arms out at her sides. Like Lena, it fit loose on her, but not in a I-stole-this-outta-my dad’s-closet sort of way. But Webby was lacking a few extra inches that Lena possessed, so if she were to stand up the jacket would probably reach down to her knees.  

Lena nodded approvingly. “Much better. You look badass. Like you could beat up half the people in here.”

Webby giggled, clutching the lapels of her jacket tight. Lena couldn’t imagine her beating a stuffed animal in a fight, but the smile on her face was a welcome relief. 

“I’ve always thought leather jackets looked cool, but I was never allowed to have one,” she whispered, as if worried the bored hipster sitting on the bench across from them might overhear (or care). “Not-not that I’m keeping it!” she insisted quickly. “I promise I’ll give it back to you. My aunt said she’d buy me some replacements if the bus company doesn’t find my luggage. When will you be back in Duckburg?”

Lena faltered, the clamorous buzz of the train station rushing back in around her. A glance at the clock. 

Ten minutes to go. 

“N-never,” she said, like a revelation. “That’s the plan.” 

She’d forgotten. For a split second, she’d forgotten why she was here. 

Webby deflated with a sad little, “Oh.” She raised her head after a moment, glancing around in mild confusion. “But…what about your family?” 

Lena swallowed thickly. Her hand shook, and she tightened it into a fist. 

“They’re staying here,” she said, as matter-of-factly as she was able. 

Webby eyes went wide, then wider. “Oh. Oh .” She leaned forward, speaking in a whisper again. This time with good reason. “Are you running away?”

Lena set her jaw, straightening her shoulders like she was going into battle. It felt necessary when she was up against Webby’s big, beseeching eyes. They should slap a warning on those. 

“Maybe. What’s it to you?” she bit out. 

A flare of guilt scorched her insides when Webby flinched at her tone.

“Well, I was hoping you’d be my first friend. I-in Duckburg,” she said quietly, hunching back against the bench seat and rubbing her arm. 

Lena herself leaned back, floored by Webby’s unfiltered honesty. Her friend. It was almost laughable. A joke played by any number of hateful girls in any number of hateful schools. But Lena didn't need friends. She liked being alone, she liked the quiet, and the freedom to work and plan and save her meager paychecks and imagine a place where she might finally be happy again. 

She smiled at Webby, a thin, scornful thing. No need to get the kid’s hopes up. “Sorry. Guess it wasn’t meant to be,” she said as dispassionately as she could. “Not sure you’d even want me as a friend, anyway.”

That… wasn’t supposed to slip out. 

Webby stared at Lena like she was the crazy one. “Why not? You saved my Quacky Patch doll, you’re giving me your jacket. Those all seem like really friendly things to do!”

“I-well—why do you care?” Lena sputtered defensively. She barely heard herself over the blood starting to rush in her ears. “Aren’t you just visiting Duckburg anyway?

“Huh?” Webby blinked. “No. I'm moving here to live with my aunt.” 

“Your aunt? Well, what about your parents?” Lena demanded before she could think better of it. 

Webby shrugged. “I don't have parents,” she said gently, breaking the news like she was more worried about Lena’s reaction than her being an orphan. 

Lena choked on her next breath, horror wrapping around her throat and squeezing. Of all the ways to get this perfectly nice, normal girl to hate her guts, and without even trying, too. Truly an all-timer in the Lena record book. She didn’t know when to quit, did she?

“Oh. God. I’m—sorry. Sorry about that,” she stammered and stuttered like an idiot. And instead of throwing her jacket in her face and rightfully storming off, Webby just kept staring at her with this stupid sympathetic expression. 

“It’s okay. I was little when they died, I don’t even remember them,” she said softly, like that was somehow less terrible, not worse. “I couldn’t live with my aunt cuz she wasn’t, uh…financially stable. So I've been in foster care until now.”

Poor little rich girl, Lena thought scathingly. Daddy not paying enough attention to you. At least you have a dad. 

“What about you?”

Lena startled, gawking at Webby’s politely curious face, as if Lena hadn’t just made her feel obligated to share her entire tragic backstory with an ungrateful, near stranger. No way Lena could keep up her jerky, mysterious loner schtick anymore. As long as she didn’t name drop anything McDuck-related, she’d be fine. 

“Me? Uhh…it’s just me and my dad. Sort of,” she said haltingly. 

“Sort of?” 

Lena waved a hand flippantly. “I don’t really live with him. He’s, uh, he’s pretty rich, and he only cares about his work, so he’s been sending me to boarding schools since I was like, ten. It stopped feeling like he cared a long time ago. So I figured I would just…leave. Live on my own. Make it official, y’know?” Lena admitted with less and less conviction. She dropped her head into her hands. “It sounds stupid when I say it out loud,” she warbled against her palms, desperation spiking inside her. 

“No, no!” Webby exclaimed at once, reaching out with cold, careful fingers to brush against Lena’s arm. “I get it,” she said, hesitating. In a whisper so hushed, Lena had to strain to hear it, Webby murmured, “I’ve…I’ve thought about…running away before, too.”

Lena dropped her hands to gape at her. “You? Seriously?”

Webby nodded, the slightest movement of her head. Her eyes darted all over the place, barely lingering on Lena for more than a second, like she was on the lookout for eavesdroppers. 

“When I was living in…in my foster home,” she explained, even quieter than before. Lena had to scoot closer to her to even have a hope of hearing. “They were…pretty strict. I was alone a lot. Sometimes I thought about running out the door and never stopping. Or jumping out an open window. Going somewhere they’d never find me, where I could go on all the adventures I’d always read about.” 

Webby’s racing eyes stilled, and she looked down at her Quackypatch doll instead, pulling it out of her backpack to fiddle with the dingy, little pink skirt. Even then, her wide eyes were far away, longing and luminous. 

Lena swallowed thickly, the sincerity of Webby’s admission leaving her short of breath. Her perception of this girl kept getting turned on its head, challenging and humbling her, and now something heavy settled over them both, a shared desire, born of different fears. Their motivations were nothing alike, and yet…

“Do you…still wanna do that?” Lena asked quietly. 

Webby lowered her head and her grip on the doll in her hands tightened. “A little bit. Every day.” 

Lena floundered. “What about your aunt? Wouldn’t she miss you?” she said, like a hypocrite, thinking of Beakley’s guilt, Launchpad’s heartbreak. Even her dad would worry a little, wouldn’t he? 

“Nobody thinks about me that way,” Webby said simply, shaking her head. “She wouldn’t miss me. No one ever does. Even you’ll forget about me eventually.”

Pain tightened in Lena’s chest, a great big fist of grief burying past her guts and squeezing. Webby’s words struck home with precision, painful in their familiarity. She’d thought the same, told herself the same, too many times to count. With every boarding school, the faces of her peers blurring in her mind, every quiet, lonely visit home spent wondering who would leave her next, abandoning her to be swallowed by empty halls. 

Did anyone out there even remember Lena McDuck for more than her name?

Right now, she found herself already missing Webby’s smile, so she reached out and playfully punched her shoulder. 

“Nah, how could I? I’ll be thinking about how you still owe me a jacket.” 

Webby snorted, raising her hand over her beak, but her laughter all but transformed her face, erasing the distant grief from her eyes, the weight of downtrodden acceptance from her shoulders that made her look even smaller than she actually was. 

“If-if you don’t leave, maybe we can go shopping together?” Webby offered shyly, and Lena surprised herself by not immediately shooting down the overture. 

This was maybe the longest conversation she’d had with anyone in almost a year. They hadn’t even bothered sticking her with a roommate at her last school, so even her downtime was spent in silence, the only company provided by the noise filtering through her laptop headphones. 

Talking to Webby was…nice. Webby was nice. She didn’t have any distorted notions about Lena, hadn’t known her since infancy, didn’t think about McDuck first and Lena never, so it wasn’t hard to be honest with her. 

It was… nice to confide in someone. 

But if Lena did go through with this, board that bus (six minutes and counting…), and disappear into Cape Suzette, would she ever find someone like Webby again? Would she find Webby again? Sure they could exchange phone numbers, emails, whatever, but would that be enough? 

Lena never thought she’d inherited her father’s greed, but she was already eager, impatient , to see Webby again, to take up her hours with shopping, show her Lena’s favorite bad horror movies, explore Duckburg together. Nobody was ever happy to see Lena but she had made Webby laugh when her spirits were at their lowest. Webby wanted her to stay so that they could see each other again. 

Webby…was looking at something over her shoulder. 

Lena blinked, coming back to herself. “What is it?” 

Webby seemed to falter, but only for a second. 

“Do you know a big scary purple lady?” she asked quietly. 

Lena’s heart stopped dead. “Why?”  

Webby pointed behind Lena. “Cuz she’s heading right toward us.”

Though dread wanted to keep her frozen in place, Lena forced herself to look over her shoulder. Sure enough, a broad form was easily parting the bustling crowds, standing a good head above most of the passerby. And like a shark scenting blood, dark eyes locked onto her own behind thin cat’s eye glasses. 

Beakley had found her. 

“Lena?” she heard Webby ask, but distantly, like she’d been dunked several feet underwater. “What’s wrong?”

Lena stood up in a panic, only to freeze in place again. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, and no time. 

She swirled her head anyway, gaze tearing over the station walls. Hiding in the bathroom was out, and the ticket booth was shuttered. Should she make a break for the trains, and get on the first one departing? Was she that desperate? 

But then she saw it. 

“There!” she shouted. Without a second thought, she grabbed Webby by the hand before dashing forward. Webby didn’t offer a word of protest, matching her desperate speed at once. 

Lena’s eyes were locked on a wooden door she’d never noticed before, tucked behind a pillar. It was painted bright red, perfectly smooth, and unlabeled. Maybe a broom closet, or some sort of security office. It wouldn’t hide her from Beakley for long but it was better than nothing. 

“Open it, quick!”

Webby didn’t even hesitate before grabbing the black door knob and twisting, opening the door an inch. Lena dove forward, shoving her way through and dragging Webby behind her. As soon as Webby’s ridiculously huge backpack cleared the edge of the doorframe, Lena slammed it shut behind them. 

“There’s no lock!” she hissed, sweaty palms overlapping around the doorknob, as if her weak grip would do anything to keep Beakley out if she was determined to enter. 

“Lena,” Webby whispered from beside her, facing inside the broom closet. 

“She’s gonna break down this door any second…” Lena muttered, hopelessness surging alongside her crackling adrenaline. 

“Lena!” Webby hissed frantically. 

“What!” she snapped, whirling around. Lena glanced at Webby for a second before looking past her. And her jaw dropped. 

This was no broom closet. 

Instead of linoleum, the floor was paneled with black wood that was almost hidden beneath faded, intricately woven rugs of all sizes and shapes. The walls were equally obscured by teetering towers of books, faded scrolls, feathered quills, and bottles, among what Lena could recognize in the dim lighting, stacked vertically atop each other. Many of them almost touched the vaulted ceiling, which swirled with faintly glowing constellations as if they’d been plucked straight from the night sky. 

High on the walls, framing the room on the right and left, were windows , each pane decorated in prism shapes, letting in pale blue rays that alighted on the stacks and on the winding path that was cleared among them. 

Even with the windows, the hustle of the train station at their backs had vanished entirely, as if they’d been transported somewhere else. Somewhere distant, cool and quiet. 

“Holy crap,” Lena muttered. 

“I think we’ll have plenty of room to hide in here,” Webby said, hushed. 

A creaking voice rose from the depths of the room, beyond the towering stacks, making them both jump. 

“Come forward, please. It is impolite to linger in doorways.”

Lena and Webby exchanged an uncertain glance. 

Do as the old, spooky voice asked or run back out into the train station, where Beakley was definitely waiting to drag her back to the mansion?

Lena stepped forward. 

Webby grabbed her sleeve in a flash, halting her in place. “Lena, what’re you doing?” she whispered, eyes wide. “We don’t know who that is. We don’t even know where we are.”

“It-it’s gotta be some kinda office, or something,” Lena tried to rationalize. “Besides, they already know we’re in here. No use hiding.”

“But we are hiding,” Webby insisted. “Who was that? The lady chasing you.”

Lena groaned. “That was Beakley. My dad’s housekeeper. He must’ve sent her to track me down.”

“Oh,” Webby said quietly. “To keep you from running away. Will you…will you be in trouble if she catches you?”

“I’ll probably be grounded for the next fourteen years,” Lena muttered. “And my dad might forget about it but Beakley won’t. She’ll have me sent to military school this time.”

Webby looked relieved, which, ouch? 

“Oh, okay,” she whispered. “I was worried that they might punish you.”

Lena’s blood chilled at Webby’s phrasing and the fear in her voice. Why would her mind jump to that? 

“Oh. Uh. No. Is that…something you had to worry about?” 

Webby shrugged. “The matron at my foster home could be pretty strict. It…should be better with my aunt.

The old creaky voice snapped between them like a whip crack. “I’m waiting, young ladies.”

Without further debate, the two of them scurried forward. 

Carefully following the path between the teetering towers of junk, Lena started to wonder if this was some sort of secret antique shop being run out of an unused wing of the station. It was the only thing she could come up with that explained the sheer oddity of the place, and the even stranger stuff within: a silver globe, mirrors in varying sizes, cauldrons . 

Finally, the piles shrank until there were none left to navigate around. The smell of incense, something warm and spicy, wafted under her nose. And it was there that they found the source of the voice. 

Situated in an alcove beneath a massive triangular window, bathed in pale blue light, was an old crow. 

She sat hunched in her ornately carved black chair, nearly blending in with her feathers if it weren’t for the gray around her eyes and of her long, coiled hair draping over her shoulders. Bundled in shawls and skirts of red in various shades, she scrutinized them with sharp, impossibly green eyes, brighter than the emeralds Lena recalled littering the Money Bin. A pair of wire frame glasses sat atop her dark, cracked, wickedly curved beak, which curled in a smile as they approached the circle of light around her table. 

“I’m so sorry, ma’am!” Webby blurted at once. “We didn’t mean to intrude, but we’re-we’re—”

“We won’t tell anyone you’re squatting in here if you let us hide out for five minutes,” Lena demanded briskly, to which Webby grabbed her arm and shook it furiously. 

“Lena! Don’t be rude!” 

The old crone appeared unruffled by their disruption. She raised one gnarled, feathered hand, covered in enough rings to make a mob boss jealous, and crooked her fingers at them. “My eyes aren’t what they used to be, children. Step forward, so I may see you better.”

Lena exchanged another dubious glance with Webby. 

Idly, she thought of all the fairytales her dad used to tell her, the old women who were not what they seemed, wolves in sheep’s clothing. She thought of the children in those stories, who fell for the witches’ trickery so easily. 

They moved a few inches closer, stepping into the triangle of light cast upon the crow. 

She tilted her head in consideration. “Hm. You seem awfully young to be wandering on your own.” 

“We’re not alone,” Webby bit out, letting go of Lena’s arm. But instead of hiding behind Lena, like she might’ve expected, Webby actually stepped in front of her. A whole head shorter and Webby was trying to protect her. Lena might’ve laughed if it hadn’t sparked a stuttering warmth in her chest, surprise warring with hesitant fondness. 

 “The shadow and the simulacrum.” The crow hummed, her song creaking in her throat with a sound like aged wood. “An unexpected friendship, but already its power grows strong.”

Lena thought that pointing out she and Webby had only met twenty minutes ago would be a little mean, and besides, didn’t she just admit that she didn’t want to lose Webby at the end of all this? It didn’t seem like the old lady was even talking to them just now anyway. 

“Who are you?” Lena asked, hopefully a little less rudely. But knowing her, probably not. 

The old crow refocused on them with a gleam in her emerald eyes. “I am known by many names,” she croaked. “But I am a wise woman by trade. I offer insight to those who request it.”

Well, that didn’t sound super shady or anything. Maybe Dad had been right about not trusting spooky old ladies with vaguely supernatural inclinations. 

“We didn’t request anything,” Lena said at once, her stomach going tight with a shot of nerves. 

The crow shook her head. “You must have. Or my door would not have appeared to you.”

“What kind of insight do you offer?” Webby asked carefully. 

“Today? Insight into the present and the future. Its obstacles and potential outcomes.” The crow waved her hand over her table, and a row of playing cards fluttered into existence, appearing in an arc across the surface. The backs of the cards were black, but intricately designed with gold filigree. Another flutter of the crone’s hand and all the cards flipped over, revealing they weren’t playing cards at all. They were tarot cards. 

Lena clapped her hands together briskly. “Okay, thanks but no thanks. I think we’ll be going now. Let’s bounce, Webby.”

The crow bowed her head. “If that is your wish,” she said calmly. 

Lena paused midstep, walking backwards so as to not lose sight of the crow. In front of her, Webby had her dukes up, like she was prepared to fistfight the old lady if need be. 

“What, you’re not some freaky witch trying to trap our souls in your deck of cards?” Lena demanded hotly. 

Her memories of childhood weren't the best, but she did still faintly remember the child-appropriate (and not) stories her Uncle Donald and Aunt Della would tell of their adventures, harrowing tales of cursed pirate ships, possessed idols, immortal gods. She used to dream of joining them, of training alongside Aunt Della, always knowing Uncle Donald would be there to catch her if she fell, trusting Dad to want her around. Those dreams had since turned to nightmares, their adventures little more than forgotten bedtime stories featuring someone else’s family. 

Lena never imagined that she’d find herself in the middle of one of those stories. Not now. Not anymore, when ‘adventure’ was all but a forbidden word. 

The crow just smiled at Lena’s accusation of sinister witchcraft. “My door is unlocked, if you’ll recall. There is no way for me to lock it, especially from all the way over here.”

Oh, Lena definitely believed that. About as much as she believed this lady definitely wasn’t a witch. Though, if the crow meant to trap them, she could’ve just locked the door as soon as Lena slammed it shut. There was no point in biding her time unless she just wanted to mess with them before enacting her evil plan. 

“Lena,” Webby whispered. “We should go. If she’s telling the truth, let’s just leave—”

“You may leave. Or, you may remain long enough for me to give you a reading,” the crow said, spreading her hands over the table. “The one you are hiding from will not find you as long as you are behind my door.” 

Lena’s eyes snapped back up to the crow and the old woman met her gaze evenly, green eyes placid. It didn’t feel like a threat, for all Lena’s suspicion. And if she could put off confronting Beakley long enough, maybe she’d leave the train station altogether thinking Lena had gotten away. 

And Lena knew that she was more afraid of facing Beakley than having a curse put on her. 

She crossed her arms, tilting her jaw up defiantly. “Fine. Tell me my future.” 

“Lena!” Webby gasped. 

Lena turned to her, trying to gentle her voice. She was the reason poor Webby got dragged into this, after all. “It’s okay, you can go. You don’t have to stay in here.”

“I can’t just leave you here alone!” Webby retorted with a seriously impressive scowl. “If-if you’re staying to have your fortune told, then so am I.”

“I am no fortune teller,” the crow interrupted, her gnarled voice quieting them without effort. “I am an observer of possibilities. Pathways. What is, and what could be.”  

“Yeah, yeah,” Lena said, rolling her eyes. “Let’s get this over with.” 

The crow gathered the cards together, a sizable pile of them, and shuffled them with a flick of her wrist before spreading them before Lena, facedown. “Pick your cards. One at a time.”

Lena blinked. “I pick?”

“It’s your future, isn’t it?” the crow raised one white-feathered brow. 

“Har har…” Lena stepped forward, already reaching out, but hesitated just short of touching the cards. “How many should I grab?”

“At least three.”

Lena followed her directions, placing each card in a row in front of the crow, face side down. But as she pulled out her third random card, a fourth accidentally came free alongside it.  

“Whoops.” Lena went to push it back into the pack.

“Leave it be,” the crow said. 

Lena added the fourth card on top of the third. 

The old crow folded the remaining cards back together with a snap and set them to the side. She waved a hand over Lena’s cards, spread out in front of her. 

“Past, present, and potential future,” the crow intoned. “We begin at the beginning.” She flipped over the leftmost card, revealing an upside down illustration of a cloaked figure, brandishing a lantern against a starless sky. 

“The Hermit, reversed,” she explained gravely. “You isolate yourself, never allowing anyone to know you. You have lost your way in the world.”

“That’s the typical teenage experience for you,” Lena snarked as something inside her twinged at the crow’s wording. She hadn’t lost her way. The world lost her. 

“We enter the present.” The crow flipped over the next card. Lena stared down at the four long staffs, sprouting leaves, erected in pairs in front of a castle. “Four of Wands. You are at a crossroads, between choosing home or a life of uncertainty. Of transience.” 

Lena winced, but didn’t comment this time. Even if her desperation to run away wasn’t obvious to anyone with eyes in their head, having it laid out for her so plainly was jarring. 

After so long, giving up and abandoning her family to start over somewhere new, with no guarantee of success or safety, hadn’t even felt like a choice. Just a natural conclusion. Her dad had left home hadn’t he? Set sail from Scotland on his own to find his fortune, his future. Really, what was holding her back from doing the same?

The crow flipped over the third card. 

“The first of our future readings. Ten of Cups.” Like the name implied, there were ten cups on this card, displayed in an arc, almost like a rainbow, high above a happy family standing in a grassy field, with a little red farmhouse in the distance. “This speaks of home and satisfaction. If you choose to stay, you will know true happiness again.”

Lena scoffed quietly, wrapping her arms around herself. Sure. And maybe Uncle Donald would walk through the front door tomorrow, and her dad would remember she existed. 

The crow flipped over the last, fourth card. 

Almost immediately, Lena knew something was wrong. 

The crow looked down at her fourth card and faltered, something like trepidation flickering over her features. The card was another upside down one, this one featuring a young fox in medieval garb brandishing a sword. 

“Page of Swords, reversed,” the crow eventually explained, raising a weathered, ring-laden hand to her beak as her brow furrowed. “This…is strange. This card means to say that the same path that will lead you to fulfillment will also be paved with deception. An unseen force looms in your future. Favorable or foul, that I cannot determine.” 

Lena chuckled weakly, doing little to dispel the flutter of anxiety that the crow’s reading had created. There was a reason her dad disavowed street magic, after all. If it wasn't complete nonsense, it just filled you with existential dread. 

“Love it. Just as ominous as I expected,” she drawled.

“Our reflection can often appear warped when presented in an unfamiliar mirror.” The crow shuffled Lena’s cards back into their neat pile before offering it to Webby. 

“As for you...”

Webby’s eyes went wide and she backed away for the first time, waving her hands in front of her. “I-I’m fine, I don’t need–I mean, I don’t believe—”

“C’mon, don’t let me be the only one creeped out here,” Lena joked weakly, giving her a nudge. 

Webby looked up at Lena for a long moment, searching her face for…something. She must’ve found it, as she swallowed and turned back to the crow with a more resolute expression, though the corners of her beak were still tight with uncertainty. “I, um…okay.” 

She reached out and chose her three cards with careful precision, not accidentally pulling out a fourth like Lena had done. The whole time, the crow watched her with a strange sort of scrutiny she hadn’t shown Lena. 

Once all three cards were placed on the table, the crow placed her hand on the leftmost one again. 

“We look to the past,” she said, flipping it over to reveal an upside down image of a duck carrying a bindle over their shoulder, standing at the edge of a cliff but looking ahead instead of acknowledging the drop before them. “The Fool, reversed. This card speaks of innocence, born of ignorance. Like the youth depicted in the card, you don't realize how dangerous of a position you find yourself in.”

Lena looked worriedly over at Webby but the girl gave no reaction other than to cross her arms. None of this is real, Lena reminded herself. Webby knows that.   

The crow moved onto the next card when the silence on the other side of her table didn’t break. “Present.” This card was of a young woman gently prying open the jaws of a lion, with flowers in her hair and threaded over her white dress. 

“Strength. A promising card. This speaks of your will and compassion, challenging those that would take advantage of you.” 

She flipped over the final card, and Lena’s stomach swooped pendulously. 

“As for your outcome…” 

A woman, tied up and blindfolded, with swords stabbed into the ground around her, caging her in. Of course . 

“Eight of Swords,” the crow croaked gravely. “If your inner strength fails, I see a prison of your own making, chains that you bind to yourself. In this, you would remain a pawn until the end.”

Lena swallowed against the flutter of nerves climbing up her throat, frustrated with herself for letting herself get spooked by this haunted house junk. A glance at Webby revealed a startlingly intense scowl on the younger girl’s face. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said sharply, her hands balled at her side. 

The crow spread her hands calmly. “I do not control the cards.”

“Sure you don’t,” Webby scoffed. “Spoken like a true charlatan.”

“Believe what you like.”

Lena barked a startled laugh. “Dang, Webby. Take it easy!”

Webby glanced up at her and a small smile broke through her scowl. “Sorry. Can we go now?”

Beakley had to have moved on by now, right? They couldn’t hide in this weird old lady’s closet forever. 

“Yeah. Let’s get outta here.”

They’d barely taken a step, Lena hadn’t even turned her back, when the crow spoke again. 

“Take heed. You may not believe, but your fates are intertwined as of this meeting. Keep your readings in mind, and be wary of those that would manipulate you for their own ill intent.” 

“Lena, let’s go,” Webby whispered, tugging on Lena’s sleeve. Suddenly, the leather jacket that had only fit a bit loose on her seemed to swallow her as she buried herself in the collar. That made Lena’s decision for her. 

“Bye, lady. It’s been weird.”

She turned around, nearly tripping on one of the rugs beneath them in her haste. Webby stayed at her elbow, keeping pace as they hit the winding maze of book towers. A wordless, unexplainable sense of urgency propelled Lena forward, the crow’s warnings echoing in her head as the darkness behind them deepened and leeched forward with clawing fingers. 

They reached the red door and Lena grabbed at the doorknob. Dozens of late night horror movie binges had her half-convinced that the door wouldn’t open, trapping them inside.

But no. To her relief, the doorknob turned under her palm. 

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!” Webby cried. 

They shoved their way forward, practically falling through the doorway and bursting out onto the other side. 

Lena flinched back as she was immediately blinded by the fluorescents of the train station. At the same time, she was hit by the rush and chatter of the crowds with such force it was as though the chaos had physical weight, so jarring was it after the tranquility behind the red door. 

The sensory overload left Lena blinking dumbly at her new old surroundings, and a glance at Webby’s expression proved the younger girl was in a similar boat. She laughed breathlessly, sweeping her bangs out of her eye. 

A shadow fell over Lena just as she was beginning to get her bearings. 

“Lena Downy McDuck!”

The bottom dropped out of her stomach, falling far past her heels, until it hit the molten center of the Earth. Ice flooded her veins as if it had been injected with a needle, freezing her in place despite the adrenaline making her heart pound against her skull. 

Lena turned to face her fate, moving with exaggerated slowness, like that might do anything to save her. 

She found Beakley looming over her, just like she knew she would, fury written across every line of her face. But so was a fearful sort of confusion which knit her brows, and left a few hairs of her smooth, military regulation bun hanging out of place. 

“Heyyyy, Mrs. B–”

“Where on earth have you been?” Beakley demanded, ruthlessly cutting her off. Whereas Lena expected a tongue-lashing, Beakley’s voice was tight with worry and she knelt in front of Lena, wrapping a hand around her shoulder as she scanned her up and down. “You vanished from my sight for almost a full minute, Lena! I feared the worst.”

A minute? Their fortune readings had easily lasted ten minutes. 

Feeling plenty bewildered herself, Lena tried to explain, gesturing behind her. “We-we went through the door—”

“What door?”

Lena and Webby whirled around in sync, which would have almost been funny if the extremely conspicuous red door they’d just burst through hadn’t blipped out of existence. The wall behind them was blank, solid, as if the door and the expansive, cool, cluttered room beyond and the old crow within had never existed in the first place. 

“Ummm,” Lena said, blinking hard. 

“And who are you, young lady?” Beakley was squinting suspiciously at Webby now. Whatever confidence Webby’d had in facing down the old crow was nonexistent now as she shrunk beneath Beakley’s glare.

She waved feebly. “Oh, uh, I’m Webby! I just…I was looking for my aunt, because I’m moving in with her today, but I dropped my Quacky Patch doll and Lena found her and she let me sit with her which was really nice of her, but then she lended me her jacket because my old one smelled like garbage and that was even nicer of her to do–”

Lena cut off Webby’s rambling before she could mention the witch behind the disappearing door. “Hey, lay off her! Webby was just keeping me company.” 

Beakley looked taken aback by Lena’s ardent defense of a near stranger, but only for a moment. Her superspy hackles dropped and she smiled at Webby much more pleasantly. 

“I apologize, dear. What did you say your name was again?”

Webby stood eagerly at attention. “Webbigail Vanderquack, ma’am,” she said, before stepping back more shyly. “But I-I prefer Webby.”

“Webby, dear, would you give Lena and I a moment of privacy?” Beakley asked politely, with an undercurrent of uncompromising steel that had Lena swallowing nervously and eyeballing potential exits (of which there were none). 

Webby nodded so vigorously Lena was surprised her head didn’t pop off. “Oh! Y-yes, of course.” Before stepping away, she looked over at Lena hesitantly. “I’ll…I’ll see you in a bit?”

Lena rolled her eyes with a heavy dose of teenage sarcasm, even for her. “Well I missed my bus, so I’m not going anywhere.”

It made Webby giggle, which Lena appreciated. But with that, she crossed over to a nearby bench, her giant backpack somehow still in tow, where she sat down out of earshot. And more importantly, leaving Lena to the tender mercies of the world’s most dangerous housekeeper. 

Beakley stood back up, rising to her full height and folding her arms across her chest. The overhead fluorescents cast a brilliant glare over her glasses, hiding her eyes and making her expression unreadable.

“I see you made a friend,” she said plainly. 

Lena scowled, crossing her own arms. “So?”

Beakley tilted her head down enough for an arched brow to become visible. “In the last five years, I don’t believe I have ever heard you make mention of a schoolmate without enough vitriol to kill a man. What is so different about this child?”

Lena shrugged. “There’s no big mystery. Webby’s just… nice. ” Nice like her classmates weren’t, like Lena wasn’t. The world didn’t stop for nice people, it chewed them up and spat them back out. Like it had to Webby. And Lena, once upon a time. 

She meant to stop there, really she did. Lena was a bird of few words, no matter the circumstance. But she thought of the stupid witch and her predictions, that ‘true happiness’ would come at the cost of staying home, in Duckburg, in the mansion, when she’d been so close to turning her back on all of it…

“Shouldn’t you be happy for me, or something?” Lena snapped, glaring up at Beakley. “She’s probably the reason I’m not on a bus halfway to Cape Suzette right now.”

Even before the words left her beak, Lena knew she’d made a mistake. She could feel the air getting sucked out of their shared corner of the station, the hubbub beyond them deadening. 

Feeling Beakley’s eyes on her like a physical weight pressing down on her shoulders. Lena dropped her gaze. She turned away from Beakley as her skin burned under her feathers, and vulnerable, hateful anxiety seared a hole in her gut.

Above her, Beakley sighed. Lena tried not to flinch. 

“What were you thinking?” Beakley asked quietly, her hand coming down to wrap around Lena’s shoulder again and turn her back to face her. “What could have possessed you into thinking this was a good idea? You know better. I know you know better.”

Lena worked her jaw, staring hard at Beakley’s collar rather than meeting her eyes. 

“You scared us all half to death, Lena,” Beakley went on, despite Lena’s continued silence. “I have half a mind to lock you in your rooms and throw away the key.”

That got a laugh out of Lena, albeit stilted. “Pretty sure there’s laws against that in this century.”

Beakley barrelled on like she hadn’t heard her. “Not to mention Launchpad, who’s so terrified he’s obeying traffic laws for once. And your father— ”

“What, did he run back to the Money Bin?” Lena interrupted, unable to help herself. “Another important meeting?”

“He’s the one who found your letter.” Beakley’s tone was sharp, the verbal equivalent of a slap. 

Lena faltered, trying to recall what she’d scribbled down in her haste, eyes blurring with hot tears as fury and grief tore at her chest.

sorry for running away, but I thought it would be easier this way

“I’ve never seen your father in such a state.” Beakley shook her head, grave. “I had to wrestle the landline away from him before he could order the governor to mobilize the National Guard. The only reason he isn’t here now is that I managed to convince him to stay in the mansion, in case you came back home on your own. You’re welcome for that, by the way.

“Now,” Beakley said, inhaling deeply to collect herself. She shifted, hands going to her hips as she loomed over Lena, radiating disappointment. “I’ll ask again. What were you thinking?”

Lingering guilt and resentment roiled inside Lena, turning explosive. “I was thinking that I wasn’t gonna wait to be sent away again. I’ve basically lived on my own for the last five years, so I know how to take care of myself! I was just gonna make it official.” 

The frown on Beakley’s face turned pitying. “Lena, despite what you might believe, you are still a child. I cannot allow you to do this,” she said gently. 

It just infuriated Lena further, her hands trembling in fists at her sides. 

“Why not! What difference does it make? The mansion is barely even home anymore, and my schools definitely weren’t. Why not start fresh? Isn’t that the ‘McDuck’ way?”

“It isn’t your way,” Beakley said firmly. She knelt to meet Lena at eye level, though she didn’t try to reach for her again. “I know things have been difficult since…” 

Even here, now, nowhere near Dad or the mansion, Lena watched Beakley still hesitate to say it aloud. Names that had become taboo, their owners’ presence all but erased, not helped by her own faded memories of family who shattered her home with their parting. 

Beakley shook her head, a self-admonishing gesture. “Since your aunt and uncle, and even…Duckworth. But your father has been trying to…he’s trying his best. And I know it may not seem like it now, but things will turn out for the better.”

Lena rolled her eyes so hard she was surprised they didn’t get stuck in the back of her head, like Duckworth always warned her. “I thought you were a realist, Mrs. B.”

Beakley chuckled. “I am. And you know that I’m no liar.”

Lena huffed, wrapping her arms around herself and looking away to hide the increasingly wet shine of her eyes. 

Beakley nudged the underside of her beak to regain her attention. She smiled sadly when Lena looked at her out of the corner of her eye. “Your father made a mistake, Lena. He mixed up his dates. You know how he can be, so fixated on one thing he completely botches another. He had every intention of being at the airport.”  

Lena believed her. How could she not? 

Beakley wasn’t Duckworth, hadn’t been there for her since the beginning, but she’d become a new constant, a confidant. Beakley challenged her dad in ways that Lena couldn’t, and she would never lie for him. 

But was the truth enough? 

Lena wasn’t sure. But she knew that she was tired. 

Movement nearby drew her attention. 

She watched a middle-aged duck with a cloud of curly red hair approach Webby, still perched on the bench, calling out to her with a smile. On spotting her, Webby brightened, a grin breaking out across her beak. She dashed over to the lady who had to be her aunt, and she caught her in a hug, lifting Webby off her feet with a cry of laughter. 

Her aunt put her down and Webby immediately turned around, seeking out Lena this time. When their eyes met, Webby waved frantically at her. 

Lena smiled, waving back. 

It was like people always said, girls who meet creepy fortune-telling witches together, stay together. Or something like that. 

Beside her, Beakley had stood back up and she waved to Webby as well. That same hand fell to Lena’s shoulder, a gentle but uncompromising presence, much like Beakley herself. 

Time to go home, then. 

Beakley spoke quietly as they headed for the station entrance. “He called you. Your father. Won’t you at least listen to his message?”

Lena wondered if Beakley thought she hadn’t been scolded enough. She couldn’t imagine there was anything on that voicemail but increasingly incomprehensible Scottish gibberish and a promise to ground her until she was somehow older than her dad.

Controversy, the idea that he might’ve called, begging her to come home, was laughable. Scrooge McDuck didn’t beg. He didn’t barter or bargain. 

“Maybe later,” Lena muttered, as freedom slipped through her fingers. 

For now. 

[altrockingchair]

And we're bench mates....

There's this new guy in my lab that I may or may not have a crush on...

[fizzywashere87]

also I HATE physical touch from anyone in general like I just can’t do that shit

except for him tho

like he’s hugged me a few times, but we’ve held hands under the table for HOURS during prep skl for literally no reason (and he initiates it 😭😭😭😭🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀) since we’re benchmates

our botany teacher saw us giggling and all once so she saw our hands and smirked and told me to sit to the corner 😭 SHE BETTER NOT BE SHIPPING US THATS SO EMBARRASSING 😭

anyway he does this thing

where his thumb always strokes any part of my hand that he’s holding

I MELT EVERYTIME

EXCEPT FOR HIM SAYS A LOT BOO

EEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

IM GONNA EXPLODE I FEEL LIKE IM READING FANFICTION

bro fuck that you guys are deadass married already

KISS HIS LIPS NOW!! >:0

[awritersstuff]

Can i request leaders of Housen, Oya, Suzuran (Raoh faction), and three school alliance having a crush on their classmate in middle school and how they would confess? Thank you!

Guess who is back ! Thanks for requesting and sorry for the wait

My baby love!

Sachio -

- you where not exactly friends with sachio in the beginning but when his mom introduced you to sachio as his friends daughter and you guys became friends. Most of the time when your mother hung out with his mother you, sachio and yui will hang out together.

- He first time realized he liked you when you helped him patch up after a fight and he made you promise that you won't tell his mom but you being you gave him big scolded but still didn't tell his mom and then he realized that how you care about him and his mom .

- he will confess after some time when he knows that you are totally comfortable with .

- his confession was short and simple, when after another fight you were helping him patch up (and also scolded him) he should asked you " will you go on a date with me ?" .

Fujio -

- fujio always liked you , like since the movement he saw and he won't even try to hide it but the movement he realized that he truly loved you when he saw you beat some guys for HIM , like you absolutely hate fighting but you fought for HIM .

- like I said he is like a open book , he would be soooo obvious that HE LIKES YOU .

- his confession was right at the movement, you ended up beating the guys , he will straight up walk to you and say " let's date " . Like not even asking but telling .

Rao -

- like it is mentioned in the movie Rao didn't had any friends so , let's just say you were just classmates but he always had a crush on you because you were a caring person and according to him it is very cool . The movement he realized that you can't just stay classmates anymore is when he saw you helping a little girl from his orphanage and that's how he met you .

- he will wait a long long time until he knows that he is serious about you .

- he is a very chill and cool man so , some day he will just dropping you off to your house and he will ask you out in the most sweet way possible.

Amagai-

- he has a attitude of a bitch so if he likes you , he will bother you and bully you . Always tease you and always make fun of you to make it look like he absolutely hates and the cherry on top will be that your parents were business partners so he won't even leave you alone at home . He realized that you are the one for him was after all the mess of 'the worst x ' , when you told him "keep smiling, I like this amagai better" .

- he won't confess to you or become like normal friends with you he will just do something that your both parents fix your marriage together. There will be no enemies to friends or lovers but enemies to happy arranged marriage.

Sameoka-

- you guys were just normal benchmates but knowing sameoka he didn't talked much but he always loved listening to talks and sometimes when fujin or rajin mentioned it he will always deny saying that he only hear because he doesn't wanna upset you. He realized he liked you when your seats were switched and sat beside rajin and you both were talking and laughing . He felt like he was being cheated and then he did what he thought he should grabed your seat and kept it beside his and when the teacher asked him why he replied the teacher outside of school (ikyk).

- he is quite clear about his feelings but tends to hide until he is pushed to the limits.

- so , he confessed on like almost the last day of middle school when he realized that he won't get a chance later and he might lose you to someone else .

Reiji-

- he might seem crazy ( which he is ) but he was somewhat like the class clown in middle school not by choice but he just loved being the reason behind your smile . definitely threatened the teacher to make you both sit close and just like that everytime you laughed at his jokes how you never thought that he is weird but just himself, he knew that he fell for the right person . He was always serious about you.

- he won't take much time he just needs a little courage which gandhi will provide.

- his confession was very fun like he toke you to amusement park and proposed you on the gaint wheel when you both were on top .

Thanks for reading. Honestly never thought I will write for amagai but did it for you guys 🙃 . Anyways, love you , byeeeee ❤💖💖

[holdmymallowsweet]

A comedy show in the great hall

First, please let me point out how the students at the Hufflepuff table are eating orderly, seemingly engaged in polite conversation.

Well done, Hufflepuffs, you make me proud.

At the Griffindor table meanwhile, you have those two weirdos doing synchronised pantomimes(?). Notice how students on the opposite site of the table are packed in like sardines because no one wants to sit next to these clowns. Even their one sole benchmate is trying his hardest not to look in their direction.

However, nothing compares to what's going on at the Slytherin table, where they've seemed to have started a cult of sorts. They even indoctrinated a Ravenclaw.

Damn Slytherins and their dark magic

[neh-tik]

I have a friend, I lost a friend.

Well i lost her awhile back, I was just made aware of it today

I had a hard time digesting , i never got used to change that easily

It's been 7 years, we haven't spoken since, drifted apart in all honesty, different cities.

So when I heard the news, I was a little startled. You see I was meeting up with an old friend who informed me of this news, the previous night I was lost in nostalgia so I went through our old pictures, possibly my favorite academic year or school year. I saw her, wondered how she was doing and that was all.

I have a friend, I thought of her and that was all.

I thought it wouldn't effect me, its been 7 years like I said.

Affect it did,

Tonight, all I could think about was her, her small frame unable to bear with the thought of shouldering it all, unable to continue living.

Well I remember her like that- like a kid, cause that's what we were, kids.

Last time we met atleast.

I couldn't help thinking though, would she be here right now if I didn't move out?

Would I be able to make her hold on, even for a little longer?

Would my presence make anything different?

I like to feel important like that I assume.

We were close her and I, we all were are in a way. It was a class of 11 people of course we were close. 

I have a friend, I can only think of her now.

I can't sleep, I can't help but imagine how she felt in her final moments. I want to know.

I'm imagining it and I hate it. I want it to stop, make it stop, please make it stop.

I'm imagining her terrified and little, little, little. She was always shorter than me.

We were benchmates, we were in the same group for an activity. We messed around a whole lot, but there was a distance which both of us didn't acknowledge, I daresay we preferred it that way.

I have a friend, I had a friend.

[ay-chuu]

Boy's a Liar

Pairing: Skater boy!Jamil viper x Fem!Reader

A/N: Got the idea from @fukashiin thanks a lot, really liked your Jamil and a gift to @senpaiofotome my dear, love you <3 I probably have lots of grammar mistake, please remember that english is not my first language

Word count: 2.5k / Fluff + Kinda angst.

You were still nervously sewing a trench coat when the digital clock showed 03:47 AM. Normally, you'd never stay in the sewing workshop until that hour, but that night you really needed to get over your anger at life, so you got permission from the boss to sew something for the whole night. She was surprised, but she didn't refuse, she just gave the key and shrugged. While you continued to sew nervously, no ordinary events happened.

Until you got a needle stuck in your hand, swearing and sucking the blood from your finger, you didn't even realize that you were starting to cry. Your mood should have been too bad to handle any other small bad detail. You're not surprised. It's been a shitty week. You didn't even know where to start. You were late for school on Monday and got scolded by the professor. On Tuesday, you failed the test that you worked on for 3 solid mornings and nights. You sprained your right arm on Wednesday. You had a fight with Riddle because you forgot about the club activity on Thursday. And today, because of your dear siblings excellent troubles, you lost the chance to buy a computer that you have been waiting with the campaign for 3 weeks because your mother made it clear that you should stay in the school dormitory for the weekend. But the worst thing is that you got into a fight with Jamil, whom you've been seeing and in love with since the beginning of high school.

Oh… Jamil… He's the hardworking quiet boy who quietly comes to class with his skateboard and everyone admires. Even the people he hangs out with rarely show up, it wasn't your fault to not to get caught up in his mysterious aura. He used to cross his arms together and listen to the lesson with furrowed brows, and even where he sat, he looked like an art painting. Long bun hair, pale and attractive skin, gray and slanted eyes… it shouldn't be surprising that he was popular. But Jamil either wasn't aware of his popularity or didn't care at all, because he usually hung out on his own and walked through the aisles with stern looks. Jamil was also someone who touched and saw the soul of a person. You can say this with sincerity since the day you met him. Maybe that's why you fell in love with that idiot. In the first history lesson you attended together and since Crewel made you sit next to each other, you were overstretched because Jamil's facial features gave such cold expressions that even just someone sitting next to him involuntarily stretched.

But that's the trouble, appearances… they're just like the bitter peel of a fruit. It never introduces a its taste to person. If you can peel that peel, then you can only enjoy that beautiful taste in fruit.

Jamil was that strong taste, in fruit…

When you were doing group homework with your benchmate friend in history class, you noticed that his mood was extremely tense and terrible, you saw that his skateboard was broken. Just like that, you said a help sentence between words while investigating the work.

“In the back streets there is a 2nd hand shop selling skateboards, roller skates and bicycles. I can show you where it is if you want.” You said that by surprising Jamil. When he looked up and looked at you with confused eyes, you shook your hands with a little tension and whispered the sentence “never mind. anyway…” and then continued doing the homework.

There was a very strange silence in between, and when you thought you had completely ruined your chances with the guy you liked, Jamil's conversation surprised you even more. “Actually, I would love to… I don't think I can afford a new skateboard.” He said, looking at you strangely, rubbing the back of his neck. You shook your head quickly while reciting a prayer to God to regulate your heartbeat. “Sure… whenever you're available.” said, trying to be calm. And then you swore that you had seen the most beautiful smile in the world.

You couldn't do anything but admire Jamil while his long hair was waving at the edge of his face and he was smiling while his slanted eyes were getting more slanted.

Ah.. the best bonds were always random but quick.

“Then how does it sound after school?”

“I didn't know you liked knitting.” Jamil said, looking at the knitting needles in your hand.

You were startled by his sudden voice. You couldn't tell if your heart was beating from nerves or excitement. Because with Jamil's voice, the peaceful atmosphere inside the library, your calm mood and your enjoyment of the quiet moment turned into stress and excitement very quickly. However, you calmed down when you realized the question Jamil was asking. He was right, you liked knitting. But maybe you didn't care so much anymore because being in the sewing workshop became a job for you.

“Oh… you're right, yes. Still, knitting feels like a routine now.” You said with a shrug. But Jamil seemed to be upset by what you said.

“That's bad.” He said, looking at you with eyes as if reflecting his disappointment. When he realized that you were staring him, you thought or imagined that you saw a slight sign of redness on your cheek.

“Well, I mean for you to make unhappy something you enjoy in life. This doesn't suit you.” while he speaks to you nervously. But when this sentence only made you more curious and excited, you couldn't stop the sentence coming out of your mouth.

“What do you mean, it doesn't suit you?” you said it quickly and in a voice that could not hide its excitement.

Until now, all you've been doing with Jamil has been working on lessons you don't understand and missing classes in the library or in a pergola in the garden. You were so sure that he saw you only as a working friend all this time that a comment on your character, a special comment that showed how aware he was of you, increased your accelerating heart as if it would come out of your chest now.

“You are… a passionate person. Even in the little work you do, you are someone who focuses a lot and does it with the peace of mind that comes from loving it… just like the other day you fed each of the stray cats equally and fairly. The essence of someone is hidden in their details. You were… a very concise person, and- anyway, it's not my place to make this comment after I really didn't spend time with you outside of class and didn't talk about the specifics about you… I'm sorry.”

And my god. You were really sure that your heart was separated from your soul that day and get put back. Even though you cursed from the bottom of your heart that Jamil's flushed face, furrowed eyebrows and beautiful stares had caught you off guard so much, you couldn't feel anything but a feeling that you couldn't make sense of with the name that the comment gave you.

"… We can spend time together whenever you want, you know.” You said in a low voice.

Jamil smiled brightly

“Are you free after this study session?”

You'd think the only weird feeling you couldn't name was anxiety mixed with fear. Because only that feeling would make your heart beat so strangely.

"You know, maybe I can teach you how to skateboard too," Jamil said as he ate the ice cream in his hand and looked at the rainy weather. Turning your head to him and raising one eyebrow, you replied sarcastically "In this weather? You seem to want my death…” “Well- I mean, logically, rainy weather is more slippery, you know.” "Yes, but I've never ridden a skateboard before, and if you don't know, this is a risk for me to hurt myself somewhere," you said, laughing calmly. But Jamil wasn't laughing at all. He didn't even realize that he had dropped his ice cream while taking one of your hands seriously in his both hands.

“The last thing I want to do is hurt you.” He said with a calm tone of voice and a deep look that looked all the way into your eyes.

But it's a feeling in love that you can't name. Because you won't understand until you live it.

That day, on the 7th date of you two, you realized that you were in love with him. You knew that you had only known the person you were talking about for 3 months, but how right was it to postpone feeling love to a person who was serious enough to say such words to you in just 3 months?

You got angry. You're SO angry. You couldn't even make sense of why you were so angry. Maybe it's the indifferent attitude and rude answers of your first love, but haven't you already experienced this with people you love and trust before? Well, the peoples used to trust… Perhaps that was the reason. After all these months and dates, after dedicating your heart to Jamil, you didn't want your trust to be broken again. No matter how small the reason for the fight was, you didn't want someone to make you feel that disgusting feeling again.

“I don't understand, I've been meeting you for 6 months, and not once in all that time have you made a joint project decision without my permission. You know how bad I am about polynomials, Jamil! I can't understand why you chose this because this is what you're best at, you've never seemed like a selfish person.” You said, raising your voice slowly. You were just trying to figure out why he did it and all you got were side-eye stares and cold sentences. However, you got a different reaction this time because the selfish word should have made that jamil angry.

“Don't you dare call me selfish.” “Then instead of giving me evasive answers, explain to me how to describe this action you have made.” “You are the irresponsible one. You stayed up late for class that day, falling asleep.” “Because some of us were studying for literature tests instead of sleeping, Mr. very knowledgeable.” “Then it's none of my business that some of us are impassive and retarded in some matters.” jamil said, shouting.

Idiot? Is that… is that what he thought about you?

You wanted to be able to get back the thoughts you were just thinking. Because you'd rather have your trust broken right now. Yes, because the breaking of your heart was definitely thirty times worse than the breaking of trust. You felt your breathing slow down, your tears filling up. Was love such a disgusting feeling? Why was it so changeable? You didn't know, but you hated how you felt. Your sudden silence must have brought Jamil to himself because suddenly his eyes returned to normal and he realized what he was saying. Just when he was reaching forward and trying to hold your hand, you took your backpack and left the classroom.

When you left the door, you ran to the toilet, sat on the toilet seat and locked the door, started sobbing quietly. If love makes you feel so shitty in your bad moments, you didn't want to feel it.

When the memory of the fight came back to your mind, your tears accelerated and began to fall into the palm of your hand. It made you realize that you were crying more. Still, you felt relieved inside, because the only thing that could make it easier for so many things to overlap was crying. That's why you just cupped your face and sobbed and let all the emotions flow through you. After a while, when you felt the vibration in your bag, you reluctantly pulled your hand away from your face and reached for the bag.

*Jamil &lt;3, 3 missed decals*

While your hand was shaking, you blinked at the phone like an idiot. Nevertheless, you took a deep breath and continued knitting the coat, not breaking your pride and putting music in your ears. He didn't care. After making you feel perfect for months, you weren't going to give what you wanted by responding to a person that would break your heart with a racial sentence. You put the phone on silent mode and all you heard was music. However, it would be a lie to say that you could get Jamil out of your head “Thay boy's a liar.” You thought. This time the phone started to vibrate with the sounds of lots of messages. You nervously reached for the phone and tried to grasp what you were reading while opening the lock screen.

“I know you're awake.” " If you hadn't been awake by now, you would have woken up and picked up the phone without realizing who I was and started cursing when you heard my voice. " " Where are you?” "are you at home?” " Please answer, I want to talk.”

While you were trying not to break the phone, you unlocked it to answer. Where was he after that fight? Because you've never seen him? And now again, he is again pulling "no one who knows you better than me" ? Fuck you, Jamil. Fuck you.

“Leave me alone." You locked the phone again after typing, but after the vibration session that came back, you grabbed it with a grip while trying to not getting worse mood.

Jamil: If you meet me at the park and just give me half an hour, I'll do it. You: No. If you don't want me to block you, stop texting. Jamil: Then I will call Najma and tell her to disturb you. If you block her, I'll call that Kamil bastard. If you block him, someone else. I'm not giving up. You: Fuck you. Jamil: You are not in the dormitory, there is no light in your room. Stay in the studio, I'm coming.

And so about half an hour later you heard a hard knock on the studio door 3 times and you started yelling at Jamil while jumping out of fear and opening the door in anger.

“I'M ALREADY HERE, WHAT THE FUCK.” you shout while Jamil was embarrassed at the entrance of the door by awkwardly putting his hand on his neck. “Oh… sorry.” He said when he saw your angry exit for the first time. You noticed the skateboard and the IPOD next to him. He looked at you as he nervously put his hands in his pockets. "Well, this isn't the best place to talk-“ “Oh i think it is” You said with crossed arms. Jamil pulled his arm from his neck apart with a sigh and grabbed your hands, while you tried to pull his hand away but when he hugged you, you couldn't understand what he was doing and you exhaled in surprise. “Look, I know you're angry. You're so right, but at least let me explain honestly. Please…”

And you knew deep down that you couldn't say no to him when he was cursing at yourself. “Fuck love. Fuck that kind of feeling.” You clenched your jaw while you were thinking. He left you and put one hand in your hand while he took his skateboard with the other hand. While he slowly took your jacket and put it on you, he pulled you out of the studio. He was holding your hand, your heart accelerated so much that your face started to blush, and you quickly pulled your hand away from him and made the excuse that you should lock up the studio before the situation got worse. Jamil seemed disappointed. You didn't care. That bastard deserved that.

You were both quiet the whole walk. You were just looking at the road and not looking at Jamil. Jamil, on the other hand, was plugging in his iPod, changing the music every once in a while and looking at you sometimes. His hand touched yours again several times, but you thought he pulled it off assuming he was scared. Finally, when you came to the park, you just sat on the bench and again did not talk about anything between you.

It was Jamil who broke the silence. “Well, how's it going, then?” he said, trying to deconstruct the strange mood between you, but when he got “are you serious?” stare, he was tense on the spot. “Okay, you want to get straight to the point, I get it.” He said as he took a deep breath. And damn, he fell silent again later.

As the anger inside you grew, you noticed that you were cold. Just when you were getting up in anger and planning to come back, Jamil grabbed your face and made you lift your face and look into his eyes. “No matter what I say, no matter what excuses I offer, my behavior on that day was never acceptable. I'm so sorry… I was just… I was just having a shitty week and, and-“ Jamil swallowed. "And I was so nervous when the plans of what I was planning to do that day were disrupted, which, God, it seems so stupid when I think about what I'm going to do… I, I just want us to make up. Please. I am so sorry.” He spoke so fast that for a moment you tried to grasp what he was saying. But obviously Jamil misunderstood this, and when you saw that his hands were starting to shake in your hands, you couldn't help but pity him. Like that, you've just forgived him, you were in love with this stupid skateboarding idiot, and you couldn't help yourself. You didn't want to experience anything else shitty this week. You wanted to feel good things.

Quietly, you took his hands and took them to your lips and kissed them “Well. I forgive you. But… I need you to explain that day to me.” you said it quietly. Jamil looked into your eyes while shocked at the gesture you made. “Did you… did you cry?” he said in an anxious voice. He spoke quietly as you looked at him in shock, surprised at how he understood. “It's just... when you cry that your nose gets red and eye bags.”

For a moment you couldn't understand what he was saying, but then you giggled slowly and snorted. "You know a lot about me, Jamil…" you said, looking at your hands united in embarrassment. There was an awkward silence Decked out in between. Jamil was looking at you admiringly, while you were just looking at your hands with your head tilted down. Until Jamil pulled one of his hands away and put it under your chin.

“Yes, it is, but do you know why?” he said, looking into your eyes. You felt your heart beating in your chest. It was very difficult to breathe at that moment. You began to tremble too much to form a sentence, and you said a single word, trying not to shake your voice. “W-why?”

And from that moment on, you swore that time was slowing down. “Let me explain myself, what I planned to do that day was to confess to you, but all the photos on the broken skateboard that I was going to give you as a gift were thrown away with it, by stupid kalim bastard. thinking it was 'garbage.' " Jamil said sadly, "The tension of the week and the disruption of the plan have driven me crazy. I blamed my feelings for you on this issue because I would never let such stupid things be made to me, but god, it's so hard when I'm with you. That's why I took my anger out on you… But the only thing I wanted to do that day was not to take my anger out, but my love out of me. I'm so sorry, jamali…" Jamil said while stroking your jawline with his hands.. He slowly leaned forward and brought his mouth closer to your lips. “ But I can't keep it to myself any longer. I can never bear to be without you. Because I'm in love with you. A lot indeed.”

You didn't know why you were shocked when you just stared him and suddenly grabbed Jamil's face and gently pulled him to your own lips.

His lips gave you the taste of that beautiful peeled fruit. When you put your hand gently on his cheek and bowed your head, you swore that you had entered heaven. You slowly returned to the real world, hearing the feeling disappear and leaning his forehead against yours, sarcastically asking you questions.

“I take that as a yes?” "Idiot… I love you too. Now shut it and kiss me.” You said while chuckling. The short and sweet kisses continued until Jamil cut it and stood up while held out his hand.

“It's 5 AM and I want nothing more then to show universe that I have opened up to you while shout out my happiness. Come with me.” and after that, since you put one of his airpods in your ear, you don't even remember how the time passed, all you know is that the sunlight slowly hit your face at sunrise, Jamil was trying to teach you skateboarding, you were screaming slowly, and he was laughing. The music in your ear, the warming air, Jamil's face and the smell of pine trees. You swore that you would remember these things for the rest of your life.

At one point, while you were riding the skateboard and giggling, Jamil stopped you and made his face serious “Hey, you didn't tell me why you were crying. Who has upset you? Me?” he said anxiously. “I don't know, I've already forgotten. " you said, chuckling happily even tought you knew the answer. You just didn't want to ruin the moment since it was in the past. Jamil repeatedly asked you about the same question in a different ways, while you just kept trying to ride the skateboard and giggling. He realized that no matter what he said, he would not get an answer. So he just grabbed your face and gently touched with his lips to yours, maybe for 20st time he said sorry with body language and calmed you down.

Maybe you were right. Jamil, that boy was a liar. But he's a sweet liar who lies enough to make you feel that there's no other important being but you.

And love at its worst was a disgusting taste that made your mouth bleed with pain. And strangely, that beautiful smell and taste that could take away that taste with itself again...

whew dude..i hate dumblr