#floppy ear movements are still a mystery to me

[canisalbus]

This is Vasco. To me. when the floppy ear perks up

sorry I forgot his beauty marks

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[outercrasis]

Sessions

Pairing: College!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: None (let me know if I missed something!)

Summary: Everyone is talking about the mysterious new guy on campus

A/N: I had a ton of fun writing this extremely self-indulgent AU and I have plans to keep writing more about these two. It won’t be an actual chaptered fic, but at some point I’ll throw together a masterlist with a chronological order to things.

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Introductions

The semester had only started four weeks ago and he was already a legend around campus. Almost everywhere someone could be found whispering about him. You'd even heard faculty speculating, wondering about the rumors they overheard their students sharing.

You first heard of him in your literature seminar, some of your fellow classmates discussing a recent rumor about the now fabled man. Something about a motorcycle and a child caught your ear, prompting you to interrupt and the girls in front of you who they were talking about. 

The looks you received from the pair were incredulous at best. “You mean you haven’t heard about him?”

“Heard about who?” you asked, genuinely confused. It had only been the first week of class at the time and you were too caught up with your own busy start to check in on the rumor mill.

“Mando, obviously. He’s all anyone is talking about.” From there the girls had happily filled you in on all the latest sightings and rumors. 

Mando, as they called him, was shrouded in mystery. He'd popped up on Corellia University's campus when the semester began and no one knew a thing about him. He hadn't gone to Corellia before, internet searches turned up nothing, and even the skull-like symbol on the back of his leather jacket wasn't familiar to anyone. Any information on him was conjecture at best and there was plenty to go around. Once the rest of the class caught onto what you three were discussing, theories began to fly.

People discussed how he’d been spotted downtown, beating on some guys in a back alley. He’d also been seen uptown the same night though, strolling through Basalt Park. One girl was nearly certain that she’d gone to elementary school with Mando, but he’d mysteriously disappeared one day without explanation. Someone else was confident he was just a cop trying some weird shtick to go undercover. Then one person insisted he had a kid with him sometimes while another was trying to explain that he was actually a murderer. The rumors only became more ludicrous from there.

By the end of the discussion you only ascertained two things for certain. He went by the name Mando and he wore some kind of special helmet. Information you could have gotten by watching him pick up a drink at the Java Hut. Not nearly enough to warrant this level of fervor in your opinion.

From there, hearing about Mando was inescapable. You got home that night only to have your roommate and best friend, Layla, launch into theories about him. Within the week someone set up a social media page to try and track his location around campus via DMs fellow students sent in. That had struck you as invasive and unsettling, but the messages about him kept flooding in.

By pure chance, you had yet to actually see him for yourself. There weren't even any creep shots for you to look at. People had been trying to take photos of him, but he was like a ghost. In the time it took them to pull up their cameras he'd disappear. 

There wasn't even more concrete information about him beyond what you'd learned that first day. Just more and more speculation, a good amount of it made up purely for the shock factor. Another week slipped by, the semester picking up, and Mando news became standard in your day. There was always something new going around about him and as much as you tried to avoid it and focus on your studies, you couldn’t help but wonder about him yourself.

Who was this guy? Was this all some stunt or ‘social experiment’ that would be revealed by a sociology student at the end of the semester? Or was he a legitimate peculiarity, doomed to stick out like a sore thumb? You weren’t sure if you should hate him for making a big deal out of himself or pity him for all the unwarranted attention. Either way, you were sure that whenever you met this enigmatic Mando, you’d know.

×××××

You grumble looking at the submission form. The name and student ID information is blank again. You told Todd last week those fields needed to be made mandatory. How else were you supposed to know who to email when you end up with a no-show for the hour?

Looking further down you're pleased to note that they're at least a grad student. Despite the unfinished form, graduates almost never skip sessions like these. You're thrilled to have the opportunity to discuss something other than freshman composition for once. It's fun helping the wide-eyed freshies, but you can only go over basic comma rules so many times before you start to lose it a little.

There's a knock at the study room door and you look up only to be rendered speechless. It's him. Mando. With a kid on his hip. So Alissandra hadn’t been lying when she told you about the toddler she saw with him. Interesting. Continuing to take him in, you can’t help but focus on the obvious - the only thing you knew about him other than his supposed name, the helmet. 

It’s unlike anything you've seen before. You're fairly certain it's a motorcycle helmet, but it's been modified. Rather than the typical rounded shape, his is all sharp angles and flat at the front. It’s colored a sleek, shining chrome that gleams under the washed out fluorescent lighting. Most arresting is the way he's changed the face of the helmet. The cheeks dip inward at a sharp angle, creating deep, curved contours. His visor is a T of black glass in the center, entirely impossible to see through. It's intimidating and… kinda hot?

The little boy he's holding starts to wiggle in his grasp, physically demanding to be set down in the study room. Once his feet touch the floor, he immediately runs over and climbs into the chair next to you. He's a welcome distraction from his father’s? brother's? guardian's? commanding presence in the room.

The boy can't be older than three, smiling up at you with a wide toothy grin. His hair is covered by a green beanie with large floppy ears sewn onto it and he's wearing a little brown jacket with a sherpa collar. Maybe a bit too heavy for the early autumnal weather, but if the rumor that the kid rides on a motorcycle with Mando is true, it’s perfect. His eyes are large and brown, shining up at you with a slightly mischievous glint.

"Hello, what's your name?" you ask, smiling back at the child.

"Grogu," comes the reply, not from the kid, but from Mando.

You arch an eyebrow at him. He can't be serious with that name. "Grogu?" you ask.

He shrugs, placing his bag on the table. "I came home one day and he told his babysitter that was his name now. He won't respond to anything else. So, Grogu."

You look back to the bouncing toddler. He's still grinning, nodding along with what's been said about his name. They must not be lying then. Either that, or it was some elaborate prank between them and you would never be in on the joke. 

"Well okay, Grogu it is." 

You extend your hand out to Mando, offering your name alongside it. He offers a leather clad hand in return, giving you a firm handshake. You're pleased when he only gives your hand a gentle squeeze, not crushing it like so many other students have done. His gloves are unique as well, black with orange fingers, the leather well worn in. It's warm to the touch, his body heat radiating through the thick fabric. 

"Mando," he says, officially introducing himself as he takes the seat on your other side, across from Grogu.

"Mando," you repeat, cementing it as a truth from the rumor mill. "Got any other names?" You hope that comes across as casual and not intrusive. He hasn't even gone to remove his helmet, telling you he isn't a man who cares much for people prying into his business.

"No. Why?" Mando cocks his head slightly as he asks, the helmet adding an exaggerated look to the movement. He reaches into his bag, pulls out some crayons and a pad of paper, pushing them over to Grogu.

You shrug, trying not to think about how you heard his name might be David from someone in your composition course. "Just thought I'd ask. One hears many things around campus and it's hard to tell what's true or not."

"What do you mean?"

That question makes you pause. Surely he knows. Part of you is still convinced he’s doing this act on purpose, trying to gain notoriety for some reason. The way he asked though, something about it tells you that the poor man is clueless about the buzz he's caused.

"Mando, you're like the talk of the town right now. We only just met but I've heard plenty about you," you explain. It's hard to tell with the helmet on, but you're fairly sure he's shocked underneath. Grogu ignores you both, excitedly scribbling away on his paper.

"I'm fairly sure most of it's just rumor and speculation, but still. You're like a thing around campus," you add.

He's quiet for a moment, his laptop only half out of his bag. "Oh," he finally says. "I didn't know."

Grogu gives a happy shriek not a second later, breaking the awkward tension that had begun to creep into the room. He's beaming, holding up his crayola masterpiece. On the paper there is what appears to be a hastily drawn frog using every color in the box.

Mando returns to himself, pulling his laptop the rest of the way and continues to get set up. "Great job, kid. It looks good."

Most people would have said that dismissively, a platitude to get their child to stop bothering them. When Mando says it though, the authenticity is palpable. He said six words and you can hear the pride lacing them all together. It’s sweet, the obvious affection this clearly private man has for the toddler. 

You can’t help but wonder what his connection to Grogu actually is. The way he spoke just then, if you had to put your money on it, you’d say father. The kicker then though is if he’s biological or not. And if not, then how else does a grad student get strapped with a three year old? Thinking about all the potential scenarios is enough to make your head hurt.

You’re also left wondering where all the more violent rumors about him are coming from. His tenderness is so readily on display that it’s hard to imagine the man before you choking someone because they cut him in line at the local froyo shop. He’s mysterious and gives off a vaguely dangerous vibe, sure, but less than five minutes around him and the kid and it’s obvious he’s no threat to you. He’s just a guy trying to get his assignments done for class, same as everyone else.

Your stomach still catches in your throat as Mando starts unexpectedly tugging off his gloves. From what you’d heard, he never takes anything off: not his jacket, not his gloves, and certainly not his helmet. All anyone knows of his true appearance on campus is that he’s obviously male with rumors flying around about everything else including simple attributes, like the color of his skin. Now, here he is, casually revealing this groundbreaking information to you.

His hands move fluidly, pulling off each glove in just a few easy tugs. His skin matches the heat you felt from them just minutes ago, a warm golden tan, with a few faded lines of scars worn in. Watching him type, pulling his paper up for you to discuss, you feel a deep and sudden ache to have his hands touch you again. A simple handshake is no longer enough. Every stroke of the keys is measured, deliberate, and leaves you wondering how he would use those fingers on you.

“This is what I have so far.”

His voice snaps you back to reality, a quick wave of shame washing over you. Where did all of that come from? It was just a man’s hands for heaven’s sake, certainly not something you should be horny about at two in the afternoon. Not to mention that he came in here looking for your help, not wanting you to start fantasizing about his hands expertly working you over.

You clear your throat and tear your eyes away from the offending appendages. “Great, let me just read the introduction here so I can get an idea for what you’re writing about.”

You settle into working with him easily. His paper is already well-written, just needing tweaks here and there to bring it to the next level. It’s nice working with him. He’s attentive, clearly listening to everything you have to say and taking it into account. He doesn’t even try to challenge you as some of the more macho male students are wont to do. By the end of the session, you can’t help but wish all of your time as a tutor was that easy.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely, tucking his laptop away. “You really helped.”

You smile at him, thrilled with his genuine complement. “Of course, that’s what I’m here for.”

He finishes packing up his and Grogu’s things, with you silently lamenting as his gloves slide back on. It still feels like a ridiculous thought, but he really does have beautiful hands. There’s a small tap on your arm and you look to your left to see Grogu patiently waiting. He’s offering something to you, paper outstretched in his little hands.

“Thank you,” you say, taking the sheet from him. You look at it to see a frog carefully drawn on the page. It’s not the same as the first one he showed you and Mando, this one more deliberate and thoughtful. The colors are still just as varied, but it’s obvious he took more time to think about where he was using each one. You can’t help but smile at his small masterpiece.

“It looks great, buddy. I’ll keep it forever,” you tell him. Grogu beams at your praise, excitedly looking over to Mando. 

Mando nods at the kid. “Yeah kid, I heard her too.” He turns his head towards you. “Thank you again. I’d take good care of that drawing. He’ll never forgive you if he finds out you got rid of it.”

“Does that mean I’ll be seeing you again?” Your own boldness takes you by surprise. You have no idea where that came from, how those words spilled without a second thought. Part of you is already cringing at Mando’s potential reaction.

He surprises you once again though, holding a hand out for Grogu to take. Shouldering his backpack, you hear an amused huff of air from under the helmet. “Yeah, mesh’la, I’ll see you around.”

There isn’t a chance to reply as Mando turns, escorting his tiny charge out of the room with him. You’re a little dumbstruck, now equally surprised with him as you had been with yourself. 

And what was that name he just called you? Mesh’la? You don’t even know what language that could have been, much less the meaning. Something about his tone when he said it tells you it’s a good thing though, that he’s not secretly calling you rude names in some unknown language. You can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever get to find out.

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taglist: @honestly-shite

[xxdragonwriterxx]

Then allow me to make a dragon request(if ya don’t mind of course;))

Reader encounters a dragon in the forest but it’s injured. A horrible gash in his wing and foot so reader nurses him back of health by making herb pastes, bringing him food (she even brings him veggies and he’s like 🤮 then reader says “you need to eat this to heal. Don’t give me that face”) and finally when he heals, he doesn’t leave. Instead, he transforms into his human form and tells her being injured stopped him from becoming human and they just fall in love 😭❤️

A/N: HEY CADDY, MY LOVE!!!! Sorry for the wait, I was gone on a trip to visit home for a month and then when I was editing it last night I was interrupted by a horrible migraine. Also this fic is a fucking monster 😅. But I’m finally feeling better and had time to finish editing! This request was seriously so much fun to write, thank you so much for sending it in! I hope this was what you were looking for! ❤️❤️❤️

🐉Song Recommendation: “Hey, Runner!” By: Arcadian Wild 🐉

Word Count: ~ 10.7k

~~~

🔥Embers At Midnight🔥

The forest was quiet, save for the sound of the rain as it pattered against the leaves of the trees and slid down to pool within the foliage, making the ground glitter with the reflection of the stars. Shadows sprawled out across the dark path, chased away only by the light of the full moon, giving the forest an eerily calm aura that words couldn’t begin to explain. The animals of the wood had settled down for the night, but the howls of wolves, coos of night owls, and flutter of cicada wings made the place feel lively as ever, allowing (Y/N) to feel a pleasantly comfortable feeling in her chest despite the possible threat of danger as she crept her way through the trees.

She had been coming to these woods since she was a small child. She knew this forest like the back of her hand, had been here too many times to count. But she had learned a long time ago that she couldn’t let her guard down regardless. Experience had taught her that she was still a foreigner to these woods, no matter how much time she spent within them, and the creatures who lived within would not hesitate to remind her of such. 

Pressing her back against the trunk of a large oak, (Y/N) glanced around the corner for any sign of movement, her crossbow held firmly in her right hand, only continuing on when she had confirmed that the coast was clear. Her eyes scanned the moonlit clearing, her ears strained for any sound that could break the natural orchestra of the wood, her left hand clutching her basket of herbs so hard her knuckles turned white.

She knew it was dangerous to go into the forest at night. She had seen it time and time again with other healers before her, those who had ventured into the mysterious wood to look for new powerful medicines only to return maimed and broken, if they returned at all. But she couldn’t stay away. Something about this forest drew her in like a moth to a flame, beckoning her to come closer despite the imminent danger. It was stupid, she knew, but she fell for the call of the wood every time, leaving the safety of her home back in her village to traverse the forest in the middle of the night, searching for the magical herbs no one else dared to try to obtain.

As soon as she had reached the cover of another tree, (Y/N) glanced back and smiled when she saw a familiar shadow following her path, protecting her from anything that might want to sneak up on her from the rear. Bringing two fingers to her lips, she let out a series of low whistles, replicating the sound of a bird’s call to avoid attracting unwanted attention. Immediately, she saw the shadow perk up and pick up the pace, trotting up to (Y/N) with a large grin on their face. (Y/N)’s own smile widened in response as she leaned down to brush her fingers through the thick reddish brown fur of the dog now at her feet, giving her a scratch behind her floppy ears.

“Hey Captain, see anything yet, girl?”

The dog only whined and nuzzled her palm in response before trotting off again, her nose to the ground as she searched for danger. (Y/N) watched the sweet shepherd look around, waiting for the dog to wag her tail before leaving the cover of the tree she was standing behind.

So far so good. She just needed to make it to the famously large river that cut through the middle of the forest to find the last herb she needed, and then she could go home. She knew she was getting close, she could hear the low rumble of the water thundering over stones and rushing through the foliage even over the sounds of the downpour around her. Ducking behind a large boulder, (Y/N) pulled the hood of her cloak further over her head, keeping the rain out of her face as she did another scan of the surrounding area, keeping an eye out for anything that Captain may have missed in her search.

When she was sure the coast was clear, she darted out from behind the stone, pushed through the bushes, and let out a sigh of relief when the river she was searching for came into view, it’s surface white with frothy white caps and reflective moonlight. Captain was already on the other side of the river, having bounded across the stones lining the surface to make sure the clearing was safe, her nose on the ground and her ears perked. (Y/N) hesitated at the edge of  the clearing, but when Captain came back with nothing but a large twig in her mouth and a wagging tail, she deemed it safe enough to venture further.

After throwing the stick for Captain to fetch, (Y/N) leaned down and began scanning the dark soil for the plant she needed, using her fingers to carefully pick through the surrounding wildlife. At first, she found nothing but ferns and thorn bushes, occasionally wincing when she felt her skin prick with pain, but after a while, her eyes lit up when she noticed signs of what she was looking for. Leaning down, she toyed with the roots and plant stems, her sharp eyes catching every little detail until she finally found the direction she needed to go in. Keeping her head down, she crept along the edge of the river, her eyes glued to the forest floor as she started to climb a nearby hill, knowing she was getting closer to her target.

Finally, she saw it. She was panting by the time she crested the hill, but her exhaustion was all but forgotten as her eyes landed on the herb she was looking for. It was a moon flower, a beautiful, magical bloom known for its immense healing properties and regarded by many cultures as a sign of good luck. The petals were a soft violet in color, emitting a faint glow that left (Y/N) breathless. She couldn’t bear to look away, too enamored with the beauty of the bloom to notice anything around her, until a sudden movement in the shadows caught the edge of her vision.

It was the sheer power of will over instinct that kept (Y/N) from crying out as her gaze flew to the shadowed corner of the valley to settle on the beast she now saw laying amongst a nest of pine needles. She clamped a palm over her mouth in an attempt to quiet the sound of her  labored breathing, her chest heaving as she fought to stay calm.

It was a dragon.

It appeared to be dozing, its eyes closed as it shifted into a more comfortable position, its wings folded loosely against its body, but it was hard to tell, its movements seeming a little too frequent to appear natural in sleep. After the initial shock of the situation started to wear off, (Y/N) carefully pulled her hand away from her mouth and reached for one of the arrows resting in the sheathe strapped to her back. Keeping as quiet as possible, she knocked the arrow into her crossbow, wincing at the slight click that sounded when the arrow was locked into place. To her relief, the dragon did not budge, it’s eyes remaining closed as (Y/N) took her aim.

She knew better than to fire at a dragon, even a vulnerable one. Her arrow would do little more than anger the beast unless she hit a weak spot like its eye or the few inches of soft skin located just underneath the joint of its jaw, but having the weapon held at the ready made her feel more confident as she started to back away, her gaze never straying from that of the dragon. She was nearly in the clear, just a few paces away from the cover of the nearby foliage when a loud, vicious bark echoed out across the way, making (Y/N)’s blood freeze in her veins.

“CAPTAIN NO!!!” (Y/N) shouted in horror as a reddish blur flew across the valley floor, teeth bared and chest rumbling with protective snarls, heading right for the sleeping beast. Immediately, the dragon snapped awake, its head raising and its pupils narrowing into vicious slits as it caught sight of Captain.

(Y/N) acted without thinking, rushing for her faithful dog right as the dragon lunged, its jaws opened wide to snap up a midnight snack. (Y/N) gasped at the feeling of its sharp fangs snapping closed mere inches away from her back as she slammed into Captain, knocking both of them out of  the way just in time. She grunted when she hit the ground, the air rushing from her lungs upon impact, but she ignored her sudden breathlessness, relying on her training to force  herself onto her back, her crossbow already loaded and aimed right at the dragon’s face, ready to fire.

The dragon snarled at them, but (Y/N) caught the wariness in its eyes at the sight of her weapon, keeping it at bay. When she finally felt the air refill her lungs, (Y/N) pushed herself to stand, never allowing her aim to falter nor her gaze to break from that of the dragon's, her eyes narrowed on its every move.

“Captain, stay back,” (Y/N) growled, her free hand held out behind her to keep her dog from going after the dragon again. “We are going home.”

She could tell her dog wanted to lunge forward again, her fur ruffled and her teeth bared, but she had never once disobeyed (Y/N), and she wasn’t about to start now. Giving the dragon one last nasty look, Captain followed her master back up the hill, the pair leaving the forest to head back to the safety of their home.

(Y/N) waited a week before trying to venture into the forest again. She desperately wanted to collect that moon flower but she knew it wasn’t worth her life, so she waited, hoping that the dragon would leave with time. She hadn’t seen a cave or a den anywhere when they had confronted the dragon, so she was hoping it didn’t live there and had only been resting there by chance.

When she entered the forest this time, she left Captain back at home. She knew it was dangerous not to have her dog with her, but she didn’t want another incident to happen and the night was clear, so she trusted her ability to notice oncoming danger more than she had the last time.

Even so, (Y/N) was extra careful as she made her way through the wood, keeping her footsteps light and triple checking every area before continuing forward, hoping against hope that she could avoid confrontation with another one of the dangerous mythical beasts that roamed the forest. It took longer than usual to finally reach the river, but she didn’t mind, much preferring her safety to speed.

The loud rushing of the river comforted her somewhat, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the loud pounding of her rapidly beating heart as she slowly crawled back up the hill on the west side of the clearing. When she finally reached the top, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before peeking over the lip of the hill, her eyes darting around the valley in search of movement.

For a while she saw nothing, but just as her breathing started to return to normal, a low growl rumbled throughout the clearing, making (Y/N) duck down again on instinct, her eyes closed tightly.

Shit.

(Y/N) swallowed hard and slowly opened her eyes, knowing she was going to have to sit up at some point if she wanted to get out of there. Taking another deep breath, (Y/N) steeled her nerves and slowly forced herself to stand, raising her head to see the dragon laying in the same spot as the time before, its silver gaze narrowed directly on her. (Y/N)’s brow furrowed, forgetting her fear for a moment as she analyzed the beast. She didn’t have much experience with dragons, but even she knew from her research that dragons were migratory creatures, that they loved to fly and explore and hardly ever stayed in one place for long. They were even known for having multiple dens claimed all over the world so they weren’t regulated to one area. And yet, it looked as if this dragon had barely moved in a week, as if it had done nothing but lay in this one spot for days on end.

Against her better judgement, (Y/N) inched her way down the hillside and approached the beast, only pausing when it gave a deep warning growl, but refusing to walk away. Something was wrong. She didn’t know why she cared, or why she felt compelled to find out what was going on with the beast, but she found she couldn’t fight the urge to help in any way possible as she scanned the dragon for injuries. Maybe it was the healer inside her, but she couldn’t just leave it there, even if it was one of the most dangerous beasts known to man.

“Hey… are you okay?” (Y/N) asked. She had no idea if the beast could even understand her, but she figured she had to try. She only received a snarl in response, making her flinch.

Okay, so maybe it couldn’t understand her. But she couldn’t see any immediate injuries, so she knew she’d have to look deeper to find out what was wrong. Closing her eyes, she swallowed the fear that clawed at her throat at the thought of what she was going to have to do. She only hoped that it would garner the reaction she needed rather than result in tragedy.

Kneeling low to the ground, she kept her eyes trained on the dragon as she felt around her for what she needed with her right hand. After a few moments of searching, she felt her fingertips brush against something smooth and round, and closed her palm around it, bringing it up with her as she stood. The dragon was watching her every move, hissing when it noticed her hiding something in her hand. The noise made her want to sprint back to the safety of her home, but she held her ground, raising her arm and throwing the stone she had found right for the dragon’s chest.

Just as she had hoped, the dragon reacted immediately, leaping out of the way of the sudden stone before launching at her, its wings flared open in a terrifying display of dominance. (Y/N) shrieked and jumped into the nearby foliage, but kept her eyes on the dragon, searching for any signs of injury. Immediately, she noticed the ugly gash sliced down the expanse of its left wing before it was hidden from her once again, the dragon tucking its wings back along its sides as it settled back down into its usual spot, glaring daggers at her.

Glancing down, she also noticed the trap clamped painfully around the dragon’s back leg, preventing the beast from moving more than a few feet from where it was laying. Now she understood. No wonder it hadn’t moved in a week. It was trapped there, broken and weak, without a way to get out or heal properly. (Y/N) wondered when the dragon had eaten last, knowing that without the ability to move, finding prey would be damn near impossible.

She knew that meddling with a hungry, angry dragon was the last thing she should be doing if she wanted to keep her head, but she couldn’t just leave it behind. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she just let this beast slowly starve to death because she let the fear of what the dragon might do control her decisions. Clenching her fists with renewed determination, she met the dragon’s gaze.

“I’ll be right back.”

The dragon didn’t respond, but it didn’t need to. She was off before she lost her nerve, heading into the woods with her loaded crossbow propped up onto her shoulder, letting the light of the moon guide her as she set off to collect what she needed.

The pain was damn near unbearable. Heat flared through his system, lighting his nerves on fire and making his whole body burn. He tried shifting into a more comfortable position, but that did nothing but send a bolt of white hot pain to the open wound on his leg, making him whimper.

Levi cursed himself. He knew he looked pathetic. He was trapped, starving, and alone, vulnerable and exposed. It made his skin crawl. Ever since he was a small pup, he had been able to take care of himself. He had learned to survive in even the worst conditions, so the thought of  dying like this made him feel sick. He bit down on another groan and tried to roll his body enough to lick at his wounds, only to have to collapse back into his previous position when the pain became too much to bear.

He felt his panic rising. He wanted nothing more than to be able to slash his way out of this situation, to spread his wings painlessly and soar through the air to the highest mountain he could find, but he knew he wasn’t getting out of this one. Even if he did manage to get out of the traps, he was flightless, rendered so by the spear that had sliced through his wing like paper, which would mean nothing but a quick yet painful death for him. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew he was going to die in that pitiful valley, clamped to the ground by multiple traps, and alone.

Levi gave up on trying to squirm his way out of the trap and looked up at the night sky, suddenly realizing for the first time just how stunning it was. He couldn’t help the small whine that escaped his throat as he thought about how it felt to have the wind toying with his scales and dancing with his wings. He remembered how freeing it felt to rise and dip along the skyline, the brisk breeze chasing away his worries and allowing him a moment to relax, to silence his constantly whirring thoughts and feel nothing but genuine joy.

That is, until he was shot from his happy place, too lost in the moment to notice he had dipped too low to the ground, too close to the nearby hunter camps and villages. He lowered his gaze from the swirling stars above, wincing at the memory of his mistake, the small slip up that had gotten him stuck in this situation in the first place. Levi lowered his head to the ground, letting out a loud sigh and closing his eyes, willing to take responsibility for his situation. He hated the fact that he was going to die pathetically, but he felt he had no one to blame but himself, and moping around wasn’t going to do anything to numb the pain.

He had nearly managed to fall asleep, his mind dancing along the edge of consciousness as he dozed when he heard it. His head shot up, his eyes narrowed as he tried to see past his slightly blurred vision and into the surrounding darkness. He listened carefully, his nostrils flaring as he waited for the wind to tell him who was in front of him. When he heard nothing, and the wind offered only the sweet smell of the nearby pine trees, Levi bared his teeth at the shadows. He knew someone was there, he could feel them, their pulsing heartbeat, pounding frantically against their ribcage as they hid from him. He knew they were there, he just had to get them to show themselves.

Taking a deep breath, Levi opened his jaws and aimed a stream of fire at the ground directly in front of him. Just as he had expected, the moment his flames billowed from his mouth, the intruder let out a squeak of alarm and leaped out of the way, scrambling to make it to the other side of the clearing even though his flames hadn’t been anywhere near them.

Oh. Damn it.

Levi swallowed down a frustrated huff as the light of his fire chased the pitch darkness from the valley and surrounding woods, bathing the space in a warm golden light. Ignoring the way his flames ate at the surrounding foliage, knowing the river would put a stop to the inferno before it became uncontrollable, Levi turned his attention to the human female standing before him, crouched low to the ground and half hidden by a nearby birch tree.

She didn’t seem very threatening, and she didn’t look like the hunters who had shot him from the sky, but that didn’t stop him from feeling every alarm bell fire off in his system, prompting him to pull his lips back and bare his fangs at her, a low warning growl rumbling from his throat.

Levi felt pride swell a bit in his chest at the sight of her flinch, but to his surprise, she didn’t leave, nor did she crouch further behind the tree. Instead, she slowly made her way out from behind the tree, her gaze never leaving his as she slowly crawled her way towards him. His heart rate sped up at the sight of the large crossbow strapped across her shoulder and he let out a louder growl, warning her to stay away before he decided to claim her as easy prey.

She paused, her eyes flashing with some unnamed emotion, before she slowly reached behind her, aiming for the large pack slung around her waist. Levi watched her warily, feeling the fire in his stomach bubble as he prepared to attack if necessary. She never once broke eye contact with him, her hand hovering over the button of her pack for a moment before she slowly opened it and slipped a hand inside. Levi growled again, and the human winced as if physically harmed by the sound, but she didn’t stop.

Levi was just about to open his jaws, ready to put an end to whatever this was before it was too late, when she finally raised her hand back out of the bag, three dead fish hanging from her grasp. Against his wishes, his stomach immediately growled, making Levi want to close his eyes in embarrassment. His embarrassment only seemed to amplify at the sight of the woman brightening at the sound, as if he had just given her permission to climb on his back for a flight around the world.

“So, you are hungry… I figured you were…” Levi heard the woman murmur.

“No shit, I’ve been stuck in this shit hole for days. I’m fucking starving.”

It was only when the woman looked up in alarm that Levi remembered she couldn’t understand him, only able to hear the growls and snarls he was capable of in this form. He almost felt sorry for her when he saw the flash of panic on her face, almost wanted to apologize for scaring her when she had clearly been thinking about him and his well-being. Almost.

Regardless of what she was doing, whatever this was, he couldn't trust her. She was a human, and he had learned a long time ago that humans wanted nothing but the best for themselves, and didn’t care who they stepped on to get what they wanted. She obviously wanted something. He had no idea what it was, but he found he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to let some dead fish coerce him into making a deal with her.

“Um… my name is (Y/N),” the woman said, dragging Levi out of his thoughts and bringing him back to the moment. “I would ask for yours but I know you can’t speak my language. I don’t even know if you can understand me right now. But I want you to know that I mean no harm, so I want to try anyway.”

Levi tilted his head slightly, watching her warily as she slowly started to approach him again. She clearly didn’t know he could understand her, but that wasn’t what he found so intriguing about her. She was there to help him? He found that hard to believe. But what could she want from him if she didn’t know they could communicate? He could already tell she wasn’t a hunter, all dragon hunters were aware of a dragon’s ability to speak many different languages, which was one of the reasons many of them were hunters in the first place, wanting to bargain and force the large fire-breathing beasts to do things for them in exchange for the healing properties that would give them their human forms back. He could also tell she wasn’t a witch.  If she was, she would’ve used magic to subdue him before approaching him so she could steal his fangs, scales, and claws to make into potions or sell on the black market.

This woman seemed to be nothing short of completely ordinary with a surprisingly solid heart of gold. But that was just his hope, a delusion that the isolation and starvation had driven him to fantasize with. For all he knew, she could be hiding something dangerous, and he would be faced with a quick, somewhat painless death rather than a slowly drawn out one. He hated the idea of being killed by a human more than the idea of slowly rotting away in this valley, but he wondered if it wouldn’t be better for it to end this way.

(Y/N) flinched when a twig snapped beneath her boot, prompting Levi to lower his head, his fangs gleaming in the light of his fire as he watched her carefully, waiting to strike if he needed to. The woman took a deep, shaky breath, her foot hovering over where she was planning to take her next step as she fought to keep a hold on the slivers of courage she had left to keep moving forward. Levi almost wondered if she was going to give up and leave when she finally put her foot down again, taking two more small steps toward him before leaning down to place the dead fish at his feet.

He would be lying if he claimed he wasn’t surprised by her exposing her vulnerable back to him, lowering her head and breaking eye contact with him for the first time, giving him the perfect opportunity to go in for the kill if he so chose. It felt like an eternity as he debated with himself over getting rid of her before she could become dangerous or putting the same amount of trust in her that she was obviously putting in him. 

His jaws parted, his eyes narrowed, and he leaned down quickly, making (Y/N) stumble backwards to land on her back, her hands propped up behind her so she could still see him properly.

(Y/N) was breathing heavily, gasping for breath and reaching up with one hand to grasp at the front of her shirt, over her heart, as she fought to retain her sanity. Levi could feel the panic rolling off of her in waves, her eyes wide and her jaw dropped open, but he found that he didn’t care as the taste and scent of the fish overpowered his senses as he ate. The taste flooded his mouth and he practically moaned in delight, barely recognizing himself as the hunger suddenly became unbearable. He had never been a messy eater, always staying surprisingly clean for a dragon, but now, he found himself devouring the meal in front of him as if it was the last one he would ever have.

As soon as the fish were gone, Levi licked his jaws clean before turning to face the woman, who was still on the ground, staring at him in shock. She blinked when she found his eyes on hers, and quickly scrambled to a standing position, dusting off her pants and shooting him a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry that’s all I brought, I didn’t know what you liked and I wasn’t expecting you to eat it that quickly!” (Y/N) said. “Would you like me to bring you some more?”

Levi shook his head despite nearly drooling at the idea of more food, unwilling to tarnish his pride further by admitting his weakness to a mere human. The woman peered at him, her eyes narrowing as if she could see right into his soul. It took everything in Levi to keep from squirming awkwardly, feeling pinned by her intense gaze. Finally, she broke the silence, tearing her eyes from his as leaned down to scoop up the crossbow that had been thrown to the ground when she fell.

“I know you’re lying. It’s alright, I didn’t expect you to trust me right away, but I’ll be back soon with something more filling for you. Just wait there for me, okay?”

“Well it’s not like I can actually go anywhere, brat,” Levi snapped, letting out a frustrated sigh when he once again remembered the language barrier. To his surprise, (Y/N) giggled at the sound of his annoyed growls and hoisted the crossbow higher up on her shoulder.

“Don’t be so grumpy, I’ll be back before you know it!”

(Y/N) pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders when a brisk wind fluttered past, making her shiver as she walked along the cobblestone streets of her village. Looking above the roofs of the surrounding shops and booths revealed nothing but thick gray clouds and bleak skies; winter was on its way. At this thought, (Y/N) picked up her pace, shouldering her way past the other people bustling within the square towards a large wooden cabin built along the edge of town. It didn’t take her long to reach her destination, but she was feeling impatient and nervous, which made her movements more aggressive than usual, leading to some mumbled apologies as she bumped into numerous people crowding the space. (Y/N) breathed a sigh of relief when she finally made it to the front door and raised her fist to knock, chiding herself for feeling so anxious.

A loud clang sounded from within the building, snapping (Y/N) from her musings and making her raise an eyebrow as she waited. She heard a deep male voice shout something from inside, followed by a bright female voice that continually got closer until the door was wrenched open, revealing a frazzled brunette woman with warm hazel eyes, iron-rimmed square glasses, and a black eye patch covering her right eye.

“Hanji,” (Y/N) breathed, a tired smile spreading across her face.

“(Y/N)!” Hanji quickly swooped down to encompass (Y/N) in a bear hug, squeezing the other woman until she could barely breathe. “It’s about time you showed up! Come in, come!”

(Y/N) allowed herself to be ushered inside and let out a satisfied sigh as she was wrapped in the warmth of the fire burning in the hearth and the cozy atmosphere of the small cabin. She smiled when she noticed Erwin and Moblit splayed out around the living room - Erwin perched on the armrest of a worn armchair and Moblit laying across the couch.

“Hey guys!”

“Heya (Y/N).”

“Hi (Y/N).”

The two men beamed at her, motioning for her to sit in the armchair Erwin was perched on while Hanji darted into the kitchen to make some tea - Moblit rushing to help her lest she burn anything. (Y/N) complied, settling back into the chair with a soft groan as she scanned the room, taking note of all of the new machines Hanji had been tinkering with as of late.

The pair remained silent until Hanji and Moblit reentered the room, only breaking the soothing quiet of the space to murmur a soft thank you to their friends as drinks were passed around. (Y/N) took the time to gather her thoughts, humming in satisfaction when the warm flavor of the tea chased the heavy cold from her body and heated her chest and stomach like a cozy blanket. Only when everyone had settled and taken a few sips of their drinks did Erwin turn to (Y/N), giving her a serious look.

“So, you wanted to talk to me?”

(Y/N) took a deep breath, “Yes.”

“Is this about the beast you found in the woods?”

Another deep breath, “Yes.”

“(Y/N), I told you, you need to stop messing with that thing. It’s dangerous and you could end up getting hurt or killed. Maybe it’s just best if you let nature run its course.”

“And I told you that I’m not giving up on him,” (Y/N) said. “I know he’s dangerous, but I can’t just leave him there. Winter is coming soon and I know he won’t make it if he doesn’t have someone to help him along.”

“(Y/N), this is a fucking dragon we are talking about here. This isn’t some stray dog on the streets. As soon as you heal that thing, it will kill you and it will be our fault for not trying to put a stop to this sooner.”

“Erwin, we are not going through this conversation again. If that dragon wanted to kill me, he would’ve done so two weeks ago when I first got close to him. I just want to heal him enough to send him back on his way, and then I won’t meddle in the matters of the forest anymore. But I have to do this.”

Erwin sighed, looking up at Hanji and Moblit - who were unusually quiet - for assistance only to be met with sympathetic stares and the slightest shakes of their heads. Closing his eyes, Erwin focused on shoving down all of his concerns before he met (Y/N)’s stare again, swallowing the fear in his gut before he opened his mouth.

“Alright, I’ve made my case. I know there is nothing I can do to stop you now. Just… promise me - us - that you will be careful?”

“I promise,” (Y/N) said, her eyes softening and her hand reaching out to squeeze Erwin’s shoulder reassuringly.

“Okay then, what do you need from me?”

“I need to know where the best herbs for healing an infected gash and a trap wound can be found. You are one of the best huntsmen in the country, I know you’ll have an idea of what I need to look for.”

Erwin nodded slowly. “I have a book I am willing to lend you, a guide complete with my own personal notes written in the margins if you wish to use that. I could tell you, but I think it might be easier to have it on hand.”

(Y/N) brightened immediately, “Really!? Thank you Erwin!”

Erwin chuckled. “It’s no problem, (Y/N). Just make sure to keep your promise, that is the only way I will feel comfortable giving it to you. I don’t want you to die or get injured because I gave you the key to the forest.”

(Y/N) quickly leaned forward and embraced her best friend in a hug, burying her face in his shoulder and holding him tightly to her body. Erwin was a little stunned at first, but quickly reciprocated the hug, squeezing her just as tightly. When they finally broke away, they shared a meaningful look before (Y/N) turned to Hanji and Moblit, her smile returning to chase the solemn expression from her face.

“Hanji, do you have any kind of tool or weapon that would work for destroying a ground dragon trap?”

Hanji’s smile turned wicked and her eyes flashed with excitement as she nodded energetically. Moblit nodded as well, but he looked more concerned than Hanji did, his eyes trained on the brunette scientist beside him as if afraid she would do something insane.

“I’m sure I could whip up something for that, (Y/N),” Hanji said, practically foaming at the mouth. “Let me get started on the plans for it right away! Moblit, you in?”

Moblit still looked a little like he was going to be sick, but his somewhat cheeky grin was genuine and his eyes were sparkling with warmth as he nodded at his partner. “Yeah, I’ll help you brainstorm.”

“Thank you all so much,” (Y/N) said with a bow. “I know it’s strange, but it’s something I have to do and I know I wouldn’t be able to do it without your help. I really appreciate you guys going out of your way to do something like this for me.”

“It’s no problem, (Y/N),” Moblit said. “Just like Erwin said, so long as you stay safe for us, we are willing to help you with anything you might need.”

The group finished off their tea quickly, chatting idly and catching up before Hanji dragged Moblit into the other room to brainstorm and (Y/N) walked with Erwin to the front door to head back to their respective homes. The wind was even more bitter when (Y/N) opened the door and stepped out onto the now nearly deserted village street, but she barely felt it, her heart warm and her eyes sparkling as she waved goodbye to the blonde hunter and jogged her way home.

Levi squinted his eyes against the bitter cold as another blast of wind stung his face, making him growl in frustration. Normally, his scales were perfectly suited for defending him against the cold, allowing him to live high in the mountains despite the severe wind chill in the winter, but his body had grown feeble from the weeks of entrapment. He could feel himself slowly starting to wither away, his once gleaming, solid scales now dull and brittle.

He shivered again, cursing himself and the situation he was in just like he did every day. He hated it, he felt like he was going to go insane if he didn’t get out of there soon. He sure as hell wouldn’t survive the winter. But his muscles had given up on helping him, and both of his wounds were infected from the weeks of exposure and continuous damage, leaving him helpless and dying in the cold.

Levi was just about to curl into himself, hoping to shield himself more from the harsh wind when the sound of a twig snapping made him whip his head around, his lips already pulled back into a vicious snarl.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to spook ya!”

Levi relaxed at the sight of (Y/N), the stubborn woman who had never stopped coming back no matter how many times he snarled, snapped, or shot fire at her. She was definitely one to wonder at, someone he had yet to figure out, but he was starting to warm up to her. Against his better judgement, he was growing fond of her gentle mannerisms and bright voice. She was always cautious but never threatening, and she had never done anything more than bring him food and keep him company, talking to him even though he could not respond and keeping him from going insane with loneliness, even though he would never admit it aloud.

Even now, with food growing scarce and a freezing wind whipping around the valley, she carried a basket of his favorite fish for him and a wide smile on her face. He had no idea why she continuously insisted on helping him, but he had stopped asking himself that question a week ago, figuring it was better to just accept her help and get stronger than lose his mind over ‘what if’ scenarios.

“I hope I wasn’t too late, it took me a while to make it through the forest because of the wind, but I’m here now! And, if you’ll allow me, I’ve brought something for you.”

Levi tilted his head, cautious but curious, but was quickly distracted by the fish in (Y/N)’s basket, which was placed in front of him and tilted over so he could access the delicious food inside. He wolfed down the meal, grateful for the renewed strength as (Y/N) watched, her smile only growing wider at the sight of him enjoying the food. When he was done, she carefully dragged the basket away from him and threw it to the side.

“Alright, so you’re probably not going to like this when I first show you what I brought, but it’s really going to help, okay?”

Levi narrowed his gaze at her, “What do you have with you, brat?”

(Y/N) gulped a little at his suspicious growl but shoved her fear to the bottom of her stomach, unwilling to let it keep her from helping him. She knew this could go horribly wrong, but she needed to try. Bending down, (Y/N) dug through the bag she had set on the ground until she felt something thick, cold, and metallic brush against her fingers. Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) slowly pulled the object from her bag and held it out to Levi for him to see, her gaze never leaving his as she scanned his face for a reaction.

It was two solid metal poles connected together at a bent angle. One of the poles, a dark charcoal gray, was longer than its lighter silver counterpart, and had a spear shaped end while the other was tipped with a rubber claw. On the side of the lighter pole was a handle made of smooth wood. Levi eyed the piece, his gut twisting at the sight of the spear as he tried to make sense of what (Y/N) was holding.

“What the fuck is that?”

(Y/N) winced at his menacing snarl but stood her ground. “I’m sure you’re wondering what this is. It’s actually a device that one of my good friends designed for getting your foot out of that trap. It won’t hurt you, I promise. At least, not the tool itself. Removing the trap will be  painful, but I’m sure you know that already. What I’m trying to say is, you can trust me. I’m not here to hurt you, so if you’ll let me, I want to help you out of that trap. I even brought some stuff to help heal your wounds once we’re done, but we have to get you out of this first and you’re going to have to let me get close to you if we’re going to do that.”

Levi tensed, his expression twisted with confliction. On the one hand, the thought of  being free was almost enough to make him wag his tail in pure joy. Almost. But on the other, he nearly felt sick at the thought of letting (Y/N) get close to him, especially with a spear-like tool in her hands. She had been amazing so far, even if he struggled to admit it, but she was still a human, which were the same monsters who had put him in this situation in the first place.

(Y/N) could see the struggle on his face, but she kept quiet, letting him figure out what he wanted to do without her interference. If she was going to do this, she needed to do it because he felt comfortable enough to allow her to, not because she manipulated him into it. It was the best way to ensure none of them got hurt. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Levi gave her a curt nod, his gaze burning holes into her as he watched her every move towards his back leg.

Sending him a reassuring smile, (Y/N) slowly made her way towards the trap. She kept her eyes on him, constantly watching to make sure he was comfortable with every move she made until she was standing right in front of his injured foot. Tearing her gaze from the dragon hovering above her, she turned her attention to his wound, biting her lip at how infected it was. If she didn’t get him out of the trap soon, it was likely that his leg would lose the ability to function permanently.

Taking a deep breath and casting one last look in Levi’s direction, (Y/N) moved to stab the spear end of the device into the ground, wrestling with it until it was clear it wouldn’t budge. When she was satisfied, (Y/N) straddled his leg and pushed the pole with the rubber claw under the lip of the trap, right between the huge teeth lodged in the dragon’s flesh. A quiet growl made (Y/N) flinch, but she didn’t move. Instead, she used her free hand to stroke his surprisingly smooth scales in reassurance. Glancing behind her, she found Levi’s face to be only a few inches from her own, his gaze trained on her every move. She suppressed her body’s urges to fling herself off of his leg and get as far away as possible, instead focusing on gathering the courage to look into his intense gunmetal eyes.

“Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, brat.”

(Y/N) took his grumble as a sign to continue and turned back to face his injury, bracing her arms on the top pole and wrapping her hands around the handle. Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) pushed down on the handle, moving it in circles to make the pole with the claw extend, pushing on the edge of the trap. She suppressed a shiver at the pained growl she felt vibrating through her system, and focused all of her energy on pushing the lid of the trap, forcing the large metal teeth out of the dragon’s flesh. The trap was designed like a giant bear trap, which only made it that much more difficult to remove, but (Y/N) kept at it, using all of her strength to force the trap open. 

Finally, with one last pump of the handle and a loud roar from Levi, the trap popped open completely, the teeth ripping from Levi’s leg to fall uselessly to the ground. (Y/N) fell backwards into Levi’s chest as the trap gave way, a grunt falling from her lips as she held her hands out to keep from collapsing. They were both breathing heavily, their loud pants filling the air as they fought to regain their strength.

“Whoa… we did it… we did it!” (Y/N) shouted happily, jumping off of Levi and pumping her fist in the air.

Levi snorted at her ridiculous antics but couldn’t deny the excitement he felt at the feeling of finally being free. He let out a quiet purr, leaning forward to tap (Y/N)’s back with his muzzle. He couldn’t help the wolfish smirk that spread across his face at the loud squeak she made in response, whirling around to stare at him with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

“Gods… don’t do that, you nearly gave me a heart attack!”

Levi’s grin widened before he did it again, this time tapping her on the shoulder. She froze as he got close, but gave him a wide smile in return when he brought his face back, her eyes glimmering with an unnamed emotion as she stared at him.

“You’re welcome, you overgrown lizard.”

Levi frowned, “Fuck you, brat.”

Even though she couldn’t understand him, his annoyed growls made her burst into laughter, the joyous sound ringing throughout the forest as she bent down to begin dressing his infected wound.

“Oh for god's sake, stop being such a baby and eat the damn herbs,” (Y/N) said. Much to her dismay, the dragon in front of her turned his nose away once again, his lips pulled back in a disgusted sneer at the leaves piled in her basket.

“Come on, don’t give me that look, they're good for you! And they’ll help you heal faster.”

Levi snorted in irritation, “You are a real pain in my ass, brat.”

(Y/N) huffed, her hands on her hips with a glare on her face. Damn, he sometimes forgot how stubborn she could be. He couldn’t fathom why, this was the same woman that had been pestering him for the past month, but for some reason he always expected her to back down until she showed him otherwise. It was clear who was in control here, and despite the fact that he could feel his stomach rolling at the thought of eating the vegetables, he knew he would eventually cave and do whatever she wanted him to do. He owed her anyway, everything she was doing was for him and getting him back on his feet, the least he could do was comply with her simple demands.

The two glared at each other in silence for a few moments more before Levi finally lowered his head with an annoyed growl, dipping his muzzle into the basket of herbs to bite at the leaves inside. The moment he stopped being difficult, (Y/N) relaxed, giving him a gentle pat on the neck and a warm smile before she turned back to her bag to gather the mortar and pestle she always used to make poultices.

Levi’s face scrunched at the bitter taste of the herbs on his tongue, barely managing to swallow the foul stuff without gagging. (Y/N) turned at the sound of his pained swallow, her expression sympathetic this time as she gathered more herbs and began to mash them in the bowl.

“I know it doesn’t taste that great but I promise it’ll make you feel so much better. You’re already so close to being fully healed, you just need a few more days of eating these and letting me treat your injuries before you can finally be on your way.”

Levi didn’t respond, instead merely dipping his head back into the basket for another mouthful of the herbs. (Y/N) nodded in encouragement as he chewed on his next bite, finishing up with the paste she was making before bringing the bowl and fresh bandages over to his leg. Making sure to use careful movements, (Y/N) unwrapped the soiled bandage from his leg and examined his injury from the dragon trap, humming happily when she saw how far along it had come.

When she had first managed to pry the trap from his leg, the flesh had been inflamed, tender, throbbing in time with his heartbeat. It had been filled with pus and blood, and had caused most of his leg to swell to nearly twice its normal size. Now, the puncture wounds were  nearly completely shut, the blood dried and scabbed over, and the muscles of his leg reduced back to their normal size with no inflammation or infection.

(Y/N) quickly put the poultice paste on Levi’s leg, beaming with pride when Levi didn’t flinch at the feeling, before wrapping it back up with a fresh bandage and moving on to his wing. His wing had been a different story, sliced open by the weapon of a hunter, it hadn’t been completely infected but it had been incredibly sensitive and difficult to heal. Levi had been lucky, the wound had been sliced mere inches from the nerve that, if damaged, would’ve rendered him flightless for the rest of his life. That injury had been painful in a different way than the one on his leg, and had been a challenge to get close to let alone heal properly.

But with proper medical supplies and a hell of a lot of patience, (Y/N) had managed to reduce the wing injury to nothing more than a scratch, no longer even needing a bandage with its cream. There would be a scar left, on both his leg and his wing, but she knew he was lucky to have even survived the injuries he sustained, a few scars would do nothing to impair his ability to live a normal life from here on out.

(Y/N) finished dressing his wing to find him watching her, his forked tongue licking the last taste of the herbs from his lips. She smiled at him, wondering how long he had been staring at her for while she daydreamed. Stepping away from his wing, (Y/N) grabbed the basket away from Levi’s jaws, strapping it to her backpack to carry back to the village.

“There you go, dragon! You’re almost completely healed now! Aren’t you excited?”

Levi gave an affirmative purr in response and (Y/N) beamed at him, making his stomach stir with an odd fluttering feeling.

“Yeah, I’m excited too! I can’t wait to see you fly for the first time, finally free,” (Y/N) said happily before her voice suddenly turned melancholy. “Although, I will miss having you around, you giant lizard. Don’t forget about me, okay?”

Levi was stunned for a minute. He had been conflicted with himself for weeks over the prospect of leaving, some hidden part of himself latching on to his weird feelings surrounding the woman who had never given up on him. He had battled with himself over the ridiculous notion of staying, he was a dragon for fucks sake, he had never stayed in one place for longer than he needed to, and yet…

But he had constantly told himself that even if he decided to stay, she would never care enough about him to want him around. It was clear she was helping him heal to set him free, why would she ever want to be around him long term? But this, her words… they changed things. An inkling in the back of his mind began to wonder if she would genuinely miss him as much as he would miss her.

“Don’t worry, brat, I could never forget you.”

(Y/N) gave him a sad smile before walking up to him and boldy placing her hand on his muzzle, once again stunning him as she gently rubbed her fingers along his smooth, warm scales.

“I’ll take that as a promise.”

(Y/N) sighed as she made her way along the familiar trail through the woods, the one she had discovered nearly two months ago with her dog, Captain, in search of a moon flower. She still couldn’t believe it had really been that long since she had found the deadly dragon she now considered to be one of her good friends. She still couldn’t believe she had managed to befriend a dragon in the first place. It all seemed so surreal, like a really long daydream she didn’t want to snap out of.

She shook her head. She couldn’t think like that. She couldn’t let herself entertain the idea of him staying in these woods just to be around her. He was a dragon, a creature known for travelling all around the world, sometimes several times throughout the year. There was no reason for him to stay, no reason for him to give up his freedom for some small little forest on the edge of a human village, home to the very hunters that had shot him down in the first place. She knew she would accomplish nothing more than making her heart hurt if she let herself get her hopes up.

Jumping over a fallen log and crossing the river, (Y/N) hoisted her bag further up her shoulder as she made her way down into the familiar valley. Steeling her nerves and shoving her feelings into the deepest part of her heart, (Y/N) focused on maintaining her composure as she rounded the corner and entered the clearing where her dragon friend had been living for the past two months.

“Hey dragon! I brought you some more of your favorite fish from the marketplace in my village!  They were half off today and-”

(Y/N) stopped dead at the sight of the empty clearing, the space where her dragon had lain, completely clear except for a short, raven-haired man, who was examining a few scales on the ground. The man whirled at the sound of her voice and opened his mouth to speak, but barely even had time to take a breath before (Y/N) had her crossbow aimed and ready to fire, her gaze alight with cold fury.

“Who are you? What are you doing here? What have you done with my friend?” (Y/N) shouted, her voice firm and icy as she tried her best to keep it from cracking with fear.

The man quickly stood up to his full height and held his hands up, dropping the black scale to the ground. “(Y/N), calm down, it’s me.”

(Y/N) tensed. “How do you know my name?”

“You told it to me, when you first started to heal me.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened and she quickly lowered her weapon, nearly dropping it in her shock. “D-Dragon!?”

The man in front of her smirked, his eyes twinkling with slight amusement. “The name’s actually Levi, but yes, I’m your dragon.”

(Y/N) didn’t think, ignoring the butterflies that exploded in her stomach at his words and letting her bag and weapon fall to the ground as she ran for him. Levi was surprised but held his arms open for her nonetheless, letting out a grunt when she collided with him and embraced him tightly. (Y/N) sighed shakily when she felt his strong arms encase her body after a moment of hesitation to hold her close to him, and couldn’t help the tears that were quickly falling to land on his soft black shirt.

“Y-You’re all better!” (Y/N) sniffled, burying her face in his neck.

“Thanks to you, brat.”

“Hey! Don’t call me a brat,” (Y/N) said teasingly.

“Well, you called me an overgrown lizard, so you don’t get to dictate what I call you, brat.”

(Y/N) giggled and finally pulled away. “Your leg is fully healed? And your wing injury has finally closed up all the way?”

“Yes and yes,” Levi said.

(Y/N)’s smile gleamed brighter than the stars, her eyes filled with joy and excitement at finally getting the chance to see him be free. She met his intense silver gaze and felt a tidal wave of warmth in her stomach at the emotions she could see flashing in them. She had never imagined that he’d be able to turn into a human form when he was fully healed, but she was happier than words could describe at being able to fully communicate with him now. She had figured out that he was able to understand her by the actions he used to respond to her whenever she would talk with him, but there was something special about seeing him freed from his inability to communicate, to move, to fly.

Suddenly, that dark pit of sadness made itself known again, trying its best to swallow the joy (Y/N) felt as she quickly realized what this meant. He was leaving. She fought to keep her composure, but she was quickly losing, her smile faltering and the gleam in her eye dimming. She tried her best to keep it hidden, but Levi was quick to notice her strain with her emotions.

“Hey, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine!”

“No, no, brat,” Levi hummed softly, taking a step closer to crowd her against the tree she hadn’t even realized was behind her. “Something’s wrong. Spit it out.”

Wow. Who knew he could be so blunt? (Y/N) sighed, foregoing trying to convince him she was fine when she wasn’t. She was quickly figuring out his human personality and it was clear he wouldn’t take “I’m fine” for an answer. “It’s nothing really, I’m just being silly and selfish.”

Levi raised an eyebrow. (Y/N), being selfish? He found that hard to believe, this was in fact, the woman who had just spent the past two months healing a dangerous dragon just out of the goodness of her heart. “Explain.”

(Y/N) gave him a smile, humored by his brusque tone. “I guess I’m just… going to miss you, is all. I don’t really want you to leave even though it is completely selfish of me to even think of asking you to stay. You’re my friend, and I’ve really enjoyed having you around. I’m so happy that you are finally healed and free, I just,” (Y/N) breathed out shakily and leaned her head back against the tree trunk behind her, “wish you would stick around a little longer.”

Silence filled the space after (Y/N) finished explaining, and she closed her eyes, too afraid to see the disgust and condemnation in his eyes at her stupid sentiment. She almost wished she hadn’t told him what was wrong, she didn’t want him to feel pressured or burdened by her selfish desires despite the relief she felt at finally getting it off her chest. A loud sigh from in front of her made her open her eyes to see Levi watching her with a sad look of his own, his hand reaching up to caress her cheek with his thumb. She leaned into his touch before she could think about her actions, nuzzling his warm palm.

“(Y/N), as much as I’d like to, you know I can’t actually stay here, right?”

(Y/N) closed her eyes again and nodded, swallowing back the tears that were threatening to slip from beneath her lids. She did know that, had known that from the day she started to heal him. She wasn’t going to make him feel worse by crying about it.

“But what if… I don’t know, maybe you’d be interested in coming with me, instead?”

(Y/N) eyes flew open, her jaw dropping in shock. “Huh!?”

Levi winced at the loud noise and slid his gaze to the side, unable to look her in the eye as a hint of a blush bloomed on his cheeks. “I-I mean, you don’t have to but I just thought, you know, we could spend some more time together. I could show you more than just the small ass village you’ve lived in your whole life and take you back to my place if you want. We can go for flights together and I don’t know, maybe this is just a stupid idea-”

Levi was surprised when he was cut off by the sudden feeling of (Y/N)’s lips pressing against his. The kiss was fleeting and sweet and soft, but it immediately made him melt. Much too soon, (Y/N) had pulled away, a sheepish smile on her face as she looked at him with the warm look in her eye he had come to love in the recent months.

“That sounds perfect, Levi.”

Levi couldn’t help but smile back at her as soon as he had regained his composure, leaning down to recapture her lips in a proper kiss this time, allowing his feelings to take over as pride and happiness filled him to the brim. He never could’ve imagined loving a human, but life was certainly full of surprises and so far, (Y/N) was the best surprise he had ever received.

[itsbeaconhillsbaby]

city lights, pretty sights || tom holland x reader

a/n: hello again! so i was completely overwhelmed by the lovely response my first tom holland mini fic/imagine/blurb thing received from you guys. and i had a couple more ideas so decided to keep going and see what you all think. once again - i hope you guys are liking these, let me know if you are and if you wanna have a chat about anything tom related - hmu, I'd love to chat! 

word count: 1673 warning: none (that i can remember anyways) summary: wandering through nyc late at night still in your premiere outfits; pizza, piggy back rides and cute scenes

“What’s your thoughts on pizza?” 

You nuzzle closer into the side of the figure next to you, feeling them guiding and supporting you along the path as you walk together. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t holding on a little tighter than normal. Looking up to him you grinned, hair falling out of the loose style it’d been sitting in all night, the bouncy curls now framing your face, “I love pizza.” You could feel the presence of Tom’s security, walking a little further back giving you both some space, but still close enough that if anything at all happened, they’d be there to get you both home. You approach a tiny little hole-in-the-wall takeaway pizzeria, Tom pulling himself behind you, keeping hold of your hand as you walked through the tiny entrance. “Two slices of your pepperoni pizza please?!” you ask, grabbing a couple dollars from inside your bag and handing it over to the man. the place was empty. “Ay, 2 minutes!” You thank him and lean back slightly, now bracing yourself against Tom as he wraps both his arms around your waist and tucks his chin into your neck. sweeping a couple tiny kisses below your ear. “Have I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?” he whispers, brushing some hair behind your ear with his nose. “Only every single time you’ve looked at me,” you laugh, “It’s not every day I have make-up artists and dresses delivered to me. But I think you’ll find it’s me who can’t keep her eyes off of you. You were amazing tonight, y’know?” He hums into your bare shoulder, your body vibrating against his touch. Tonight was crazy; and you still couldn’t quite believe that it wasn’t all just some very elaborate dream. You had been making breakfast a couple days ago for you both, spoiling Tom now that he was back in London fresh off his press tour. You had come into the bedroom to tell him everything was ready when he pulled you down onto the bed and into his chest, gently asking if he could bring you as his plus one to his premiere in New York. The days that followed were crazy. Some designers had sent some dresses once they were told Tom was bringing a plus one, all eager to be the first to dress ‘her’. It was overwhelming to say the least. You were brought back from your memory by a saucy pizza aroma, your stomach reacting after now realising how long it had been since you’d eaten. You’d been so nervous all day, and everything was so stressful this morning...this pizza couldn’t come faster. Aside from your rumbling tummy, there was another big reason why neither of you had wanted to go straight home after the premiere. You hadn’t looked at your phones yet. Nor did you particularly want to. You knew the media would have been chomping at the bit to release the photos and articles of Tom and his ‘mystery girl’ - you were making the most of your normality with him before it was all blown to smithereens. Before you could dwell on that thought any longer, two slices of thick NYC pizza wrapped in napkins atop paper plates slid across the counter towards you. Tom unwound his arms from around your body and you both grabbed your slices before giving your thanks and leaving the pizzeria with a jingle of the bell above the door. //// You finished the last few bites of your pizza, leaving the crust before throwing it into the nearest bin. The city lights were glittering, cars still lining the streets despite the late hour. It definitely was the city that never sleeps and you loved it here. Despite it being hot and sticky all day, a cold wind had picked up and the material of your dress wasn’t exactly the warmest. Tiny little goosebumps has appeared on your arms, the little hairs standing up straight. “You wanna head back? It’s getting cold,” tom asked, he shuffled himself out of his burgundy suit jacket and held it open for you to put your arms in before sliding it up and over your shoulders, enveloping you. “-Or we can call a car here?” he continued. You had stopped where you stood, just at one of the entrances to central park. “We can have a car come in about 15 minutes if you want to take a little stroll about the park, Tom?” His security guard had noticed the lack of movement and had come over to see if either of you needed his assistance. “That sounds great, thank you!” you called, refusing to let this day end just yet. “Thank you for today, the paparazzi and the media and all the shouting. It’s a lot to deal with. Would put many off, but you handled it like a complete pro. We did the right thing didn’t we?” Tom asked, keeping his eyes forward to the grassy path lined with trees. “Hey. Look at me.” You turn him to face you, the lamplights highlighting his eyes as they trained themselves onto you, “I knew what I was getting myself into, and no amount of press or media stunts are gonna ruin this. No way. We’ll deal with it - as long as you want to keep making these films, I’ll support you. through the good and the bad, right?” He shifts on his feet, slightly uncomfortable with the conversation. His lifestyle had gotten in the way of his relationships before, you knew that. and Tom felt deeply about the people he loved. It was partly why you loved him and a reason why you’d both agreed to keep you out of the limelight for a while. You knew he was giving you a get out of jail free card. A reason to leave if you needed it. “I’m in this. I promise,” you reassured him. Youu bring your hands up to his face, caressing his cheek slightly, brushing the curls out of his face with your hand, “Since when did you get so soppy anyway?” “What can I say...it’s part of the charm!” you saw that twinkle jump back into his eyes, his playful energy taking centre stage pushing the tiredness, vulnerability and fear to the back of his mind. You continued to walk through the park a little, still within eyeshot of the entrance, careful not to wander too far. Enjoying each other’s company in a peaceful section of this intense city. At that moment, in classic NYC style, the heavens opened up and a heavy rainstorm thundered into the ground. The pair of you started laughing, the rain catching you both slightly as you took cover under one of the trees lining the pathway. You noticed Tom’s security waving you over, your car was here and the stretch from where you were both sheltered under the tree to the entrance was fully open. “Right, hop on!” You look at Tom confused as he squats down slightly, his arms held out behind him. Gathering up your dress slightly, you grip onto his shoulders, count down from 3 and hop onto his back, wrapping your legs around his waist and linking your arms around his shoulders and neck, clinging on with your face pressed into his hair. “Go go go!” You burst out laughing as he makes a beeline for the car, the rain pelting down on the both of you, completely soaking the pair of you to the bone. Your hair whipped around your face and you could hear Tom laughing as he ran, you couldn’t help but join in. You closed your eyes, tilted your head up and let it hit you for a moment, you were by far the luckiest girl in the world. You’d reached the car before you knew it, Tom gently lowered you back to the ground as you hopped back off - keeping your dress off the ground in the hopes not to ruin it completely. Opening the car door and ducking your head in, you slid across the seats, Tom on your heels. “Well, that was unexpected.” Tom looked at you, his full curls plastered to his head - shirt dripping, and burst out laughing, “I love you but you look like a raccoon.” You playfully hit on him on the shoulder before bursting into laughter yourself, “Oh shut up. ” //// Tom was, as expected, trending on all social media the next day. Articles and photos of his past relationships and rumoured romances brought to the surface as your red-carpet photos together came to light. However, the press hadn’t caught the best photos of the night at all.

In amongst all the posed pictures, two slightly blurry but still recognisable photos were moving their way across the internet. One taken by a fan through the window and across the road from the pizzeria - of Tom cuddling you from behind as you leaned back into him dressed in gown and tux. And another, of you with your head back, hair wild, laughing and Tom carrying you on his back, floppy and curly hair, massive grin and eyes crinkling at the sides - taken by another fan, you suspected. As gorgeous as the media pics were, you knew behind them was stress and nervousness from both parties, and you couldn’t help the feeling in your stomach that someone had managed to capture both of you completely natural and free, enjoying yourselves and each other on such a monumental day for both Tom and for your relationship. You liked and saved both the pictures before hearing the click of your phone locking shut as you placed it back on the bedside table. Rolling over you curled yourself behind Tom before he shifted himself onto his back, arm sliding under your shoulders and shifting you into his side. You close your eyes as he presses a sleepy kiss to your forehead and you let yourself finally relax - completely and utterly content.

[1dffchallenges]

Growing Pains

Written By: @rosegoldsweetpea​

Characters: (Daniella/Harry)

Summary: When a wish on a sixteenth birthday candle goes wrong, Daniella finds herself ten years into the future. Navigating a new boyfriend, her best friend who is no longer her best friend, and her crumbling relationship with her family, Daniella finds out that adulthood is not everything she ever imagined.

A “13 Going on 30″ AU

Warnings: Language

I had boobs.

I should preface this by saying that I’ve technically always had boobs. They existed before this moment. But they had always been tiny. They were what my mother affectionately called “mosquito bites.” As I held my new boobs in my hands, however, I could tell these were not mosquito bites. These were actual boobs that I saw on models in magazines. I wasn’t wearing a bra— which I hadn’t needed to wear anyway because the size of my boobs had always left something to be desired. Lifting my silk sleep shirt away from my boobs, I examined every inch of them. Sure enough, there was a small scar underneath, like someone had cut my boob open with a knife. 

“I got a boob job?” I whispered to myself.

“What did you say, babe?”

Along with suddenly having boobs, apparently there was someone in my house.

I screamed at the top of my lungs, the one thing my father taught me to do whenever there was a stranger around me. The man standing behind me had floppy brunette hair and tattoos covering his arms. Definitely not someone who would ever be allowed in my house, per my father’s rules. In fact, I think my father would have an aneurysm if I ever brought home a boy that had tattoos. This mystery boy’s eyes widened when I screamed in his face. “Babe, are you okay?” He moved like he was going to rush over to me and I took an immediate leap back.

“Who are you? Why are you in my house?” My voice screeched out, reaching an octave I knew was probably unpleasant to his ears. 

His eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?” He moved again, but I was quick to mirror his movements, scooting backwards. I nearly fell on my ass because there was a couch in the way of my step, but I managed to right myself before I did any real damage. “Daniella, are you okay?”

“How do you know my name?” I asked, grabbing the nearest object to use as a weapon. It happened to be a pillow, so it wasn’t very effective, but it made me feel better. I could throw it at him and block his vision while I found the kitchen in this place and got a knife. “Who are you?” I asked again.

“Liam. Your boyfriend of three and a half years.”

“I don’t know a Liam!” I argued, throwing the pillow in his direction. I didn’t stick around to see if he caught it or not before I was tumbling through the house. I wasn’t familiar with the layout of this house, like I had been with the floorplan of my childhood home, which I was fairly certain I had fallen asleep in last night. This was some kind of apartment, decorated with too many neutrals for my taste. There was a giant mirror I passed by, decorated around its edge with swirling cream wood and gold accents. I managed only a glance in its reflection as I moved, but what I saw made me stop in my tracks. 

In the reflection was me, only it wasn’t me. Last I remembered, I did not have a boob job, my hair was short, and my eyebrows had looked horrendous because I had accidentally plucked them too much. This Daniella had long hair that fell to her lower back and her eyebrows looked like they had been recently waxed. And then there was, obviously, the boob job. “What the hell is going on?” I exclaimed, sure that this mirror was some fancy one that only Bill Gates owned. It showed you what you wanted to look like. Or, if it was a real mirror and not a billionaire one, it was obviously broken or something. 

“Daniella, sit down,” Liam said placatingly, his voice soft and soothing. He didn’t touch me, which I appreciated, but he kept his arms out in the likely case that I would fall to my knees as I dragged myself to the tan couch in the middle of the living room of the random apartment. “Do you need water? Did you have a bad dream?”

“I don’t know what’s happening,” I stuttered out, my breathing coming quickly. I hadn’t had a panic attack since I was thirteen, when I had thought my best friend Harry was going to move away. “Where am I?”

“You’re in your apartment.” Liam gently sat on the couch next to me. “I woke up and you were gone. Then I came out here and you’re just standing in the living room. Do you think you had a sleepwalking episode?”

I didn’t sleepwalk. At least, I didn’t think I did. But this Liam guy was insinuating that I did, in fact, sleepwalk often enough for him to be concerned about it. “You’re really my boyfriend?” I asked hesitantly, my breathing still shallow. “You didn’t try to drug me and kidnap me, right?”

“What?” The word left his mouth in such a surprised and offended tone that I knew it wasn’t true. “No.”

“Tell me facts about myself, so I know you aren’t just lying,” I demanded, trying to keep my tears at bay and my breath from coming in and out shallowly.

He didn’t even take a second to think. “Your name is Daniella Araceli Rodriguez. Your birthday is February first. Your mother’s name is Alejandra. You once threw up on a cast member at Disneyland. When you were younger, you wanted to be a veterinarian, but then found out that they were the ones who euthanized animals and you started crying. You broke your arm in the seventh grade because your old best friend Harry dared you to flip over some monkey bars and you fell.” 

Okay, so obviously this boy knew me. Either that, or he was a fantastic stalker. 

“Liam, I think I’m going crazy,” I whispered, assured at least a little that this Liam guy actually knew me. “The last thing I remember is my sixteenth birthday. My friend Harry was there, and some girls from my school. Gianna’s brother was bringing beer...” I trailed off.

“How about I call Gianna? I’m sure she’d be able to help you. I want you to stay on the couch until she gets here, okay? I don’t think it’s a good thing you can’t remember anything.”

“I’m still friends with Gianna?” I asked breathlessly.

Liam’s brows furrowed again. “Babe, Gianna is your best friend. I’m gonna go call her, okay? Maybe she can call into work for the two of you.”

I could do nothing but nod as Liam stood from the couch and made his way over to the kitchen counter. I could see his phone resting there and a little tiny key rack with two sets of keys in it. Obviously, this Liam guy and I were very close. Close enough, I noticed, for us to live together. Upon my survey of the apartment, I realized there were pictures of us plastered everywhere, as well as a pretty cocoa-skinned girl with wild curls. Her face was familiar to me, albeit a little bit older. So Liam hadn’t been lying. I was really still friends with Gianna.

Harry was nowhere in the pictures.

This was weird to me for two reasons. First of all, Harry loved being in photos. Though we had both been pretty nerdy in high school, he was the life of the party. So I found it hard to believe he would have stayed out of the pictures that were now decorating my living room. The second reason I found it weird was because Harry was my best friend in the entire world. 

The circumstances of my friendship with Harry went as follows: we met in kindergarten when a nasty first grader had stolen my lunch in the cafeteria and Harry had stood up to him. The first grader ended up punching him in the nose. I had felt so bad that I had burst into tears and held up the end of my shirt for Harry to use as a tissue to block the blood as we awkwardly stumbled to the nurse’s office. Our mothers had arrived there at the same time, Anne Styles freaking out because her son’s nose was bleeding and my own mother Alejandra freaking out because the bottom of my shirt was bloody.

The next day, I asked my mother to make another sandwich and pack extra oreos. I sat next to Harry at lunch and thanked him for being so nice. And thus, our friendship had begun. 

It only grew stronger when I realized that he lived down my street, just a short walk and even shorter bike ride away. There wasn’t a day that went by where I wasn’t begging my parents to ride down to Harry’s house. Their answer was usually different renditions of “if Anne is okay with it, then we are too” and since Anne Styles was an angel on Earth, she was usually okay with it. 

“Babe,” I heard Liam say from the kitchen. He seemed to be off the phone, if him holding it in his hand was anything to go by. “Gianna called the both of you out of work and is on her way here.”

“Okay,” I mumbled, “are you gonna be here too?”

A guilty look crossed his face. “I...can be if you need me.”

“What do you do?”

He looked concerned again. As he should be. If he was telling the truth and we had been dating for the past three and a half years, shouldn’t I know what he did for work? “I’m a foster care recruiter.”

My mouth fell open. I was sure I looked like a fish. I was apparently dating someone who was incredibly good-looking, seemed nice, and worked as a foster care recruiter? “That sounds like a pretty important job. You should go.”

“You’re pretty important to me, too,” he argued.

“I’ll be fine. Really. I...remember Gianna and I’ll probably be more comfortable with her around anyway.” He still looked hesitant, so I reached out and grabbed his hand in my own. His fingers dwarfed mine. “Go. I’m fine. Hopefully Gianna can help me sort this out.”

He looked like he wanted to kiss me, but thought better of it. Instead, he pressed a hesitant kiss to my knuckles. “Alright. I’ll be back around six, okay? If you need me at all, call me. I’m serious, babe. My boss will understand.”

“I will.” Releasing his hand, I gave him a wobbly smile. I wondered if he could tell I was about to burst into tears. “I promise.”

Liam seemed as if he’d rather be shot in the foot than leave my side when I was so obviously going through something neither of us knew how to deal with, but he nodded and stood from the couch. He grabbed one set of the keys on the little rack and put his phone in the pocket, grabbing a blazer from a fancy and antique looking coat rack near the front door. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay,” I whispered pathetically.

And then the door closed behind him.

I spent the next twenty minutes trying to think about the last thing I remembered. We were having a sixteenth birthday party for me in the basement of my childhood home, and I had invited Gianna and a couple of her friends over. Obviously, Harry was there. We were setting up beer pong because Gianna insisted her brother would get us actual beer to play with. Harry had given me a beautiful mini-model of the house he was working on for his theatre tech class. It was pretty much his dream to become a set designer for theatre and cinema. He had produced a small strawberry cupcake from the fridge we had in the basement, which was my absolute favorite flavor in the world. 

What the hell had I wished for when I had blown out the candle? I couldn’t remember.

A knock on the door cleared the fog of my memory, and it was like I couldn’t stand up fast enough. It also felt like my legs were like jelly. By the time I made it to the door, I wouldn’t have been surprised if two minutes had passed even though the walk was only about twenty feet. Yanking it open, I was met with the familiar face of my friend from high school, holding two iced coffees and a little bakery bag. The second she saw me, she smiled.

“Hi, sweetie. You remember me, right? Liam said you were fuzzy on some things.”

I didn’t answer. I just threw myself into her arms.

“Oh thank God,” she cried out, wrapping her arms around me and squeezing me as tightly as she could manage. “I would have burst into tears if you said you didn’t remember me.” We stood there clinging to each other, forgetting that the iced coffee was melting and dripping condensation down my back. “I brought you an orange cranberry scone, your favorite. Hopefully this helps.”

I didn’t remember orange cranberry being my favorite. But this was Gianna, and I trusted her a hell of a lot more than I trusted myself right now.

“What is the last thing you remember?” she asked me when we settled onto my couch, the coffee and scone putting something in my empty stomach and making me feel a little better. “And don’t even worry about Nick being upset. I told him that you were having a family emergency.” I didn’t know exactly who Nick was, but using context clues, I was able to guess he was my boss.

“The last thing I remember is my sixteenth birthday party.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Funny. I would have thought you wouldn’t remember that. We got absolutely plastered.”

I didn’t even remember that. Harry gave me his mini-model house, I blew out the candle on my cupcake, my mother and I got into an argument about something…

“I wished my mom would start treating me like an adult,” I said to myself, the words finally clicking into my head. Harry’s fingers, wrapped around the bottom of the cupcake wrapper, grinning as I closed my eyes and blew out through my mouth. Harry complained because I spit on him, but had gotten his revenge when he smashed the cupcake into my face.

“What?” Gianna asked.

“Nothing. Sorry.” My head was spinning. “What do we do?”

“We’re designers for Nicholas Jennings. We’re currently working on some pieces for his summer showcase.”

“Nicholas Jennings?” I breathed out. Nicholas Jennings had just been starting out his career when I was sixteen, but he had already been predicted to be one of the top designers by the end of the decade. He was known for his avant-garde looks that were still wearable for the workplace. “We work for Nicholas Jennings?”

“Work for him? Sweetie, you’re basically his muse,” Gianna stated excitedly. “His entire winter collection was based on that movie you recommended to him. The Iron Giant?”

Another thing that was familiar. Harry and I would sit on the couch in my basement and watch Iron Giant at least twice a week. He always made fun of me for crying, but I knew it made him tear up too. I could only imagine what Nicholas Jennings had come up with if he were using the film as a concept for an entire clothing collection. However, I doubted Nicholas Jennings had fattened himself up with oversalted and greasy, buttered popcorn when watching the movie like Harry and I had.

“And…” I leaned forward, as if it were a secret, whispering even though it was only the two of us in the apartment. “And I got a boob job?”

“And they look fantastic. I know you’re insecure about the scarring it left, but Liam doesn’t mind and your tits look great.”

My hands went up to cup them again, sure I was still imagining this whole thing. Gianna just laughed. 

“Listen, we are going to take today and research what’s going on, yeah? I was reading something about Kleine Levin Syndrome last week, which could be it, but Liam said you weren’t sleepwalking…”

Gianna’s voice trailed off as a lightbulb went off in my head. Research. Research like contacting the only person who could talk me through what the hell was going on at this moment in time. I ignored Gianna’s surprise when I abruptly stood from the couch and walked to the kitchen counter, where my phone was resting. I had an iPhone when I was sixteen, but this was some fancy one that didn’t have a home button. It took me at least six tries to get it open, but when it finally did, I didn’t hesitate to click the phone button.

Gianna stared at me as the other line rang, the little intervals between obnoxious dial tones spent biting my thumb nail. 

“Hey, it’s Harry. Sorry I can’t get to the phone, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you later.”

“Harry!” I shouted, surprised that he still had the same phone number and excited that this meant I could talk to one person who knew me better than anyone else. “It’s Daniella. I really need to talk to you, so call me back when you can. I have the same number. Er, if you don’t remember the number, it’s 205-1340.” I awkwardly pressed the end call button and tossed my phone back onto the counter.

“Harry Styles? That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Gianna stared at me with sympathetic eyes. “Sweetie, we haven’t talked to Harry since high school.”

I think she was expecting me to gasp or something, but instead I snorted. Yeah, right. Harry and I not talking? There was a higher chance I would spontaneously combust. Maybe we weren’t as close as we used to be when I was sixteen, but even that was highly unlikely. Harry was the one person I told everything to. “Okay,” I said, just to placate her, but I was still chuckling a little bit in disbelief.

She gave me a look. “Okay, but...don’t be surprised if he doesn’t call back, okay?”

“He’ll call,” I promised, more certain about this fact than anything else in my life. The most serious fight Harry and I had ever gotten into was when I had accidentally killed his goldfish. He hadn’t spoken to me for three weeks, and the only reason he finally did was because I went to go apologize and burst into tears. Harry was awful when someone was crying. 

“Which reminds me,” Gianna said after several moments, pulling out her phone, “I need to call Nick and say that we’re not going to make it to the party tonight.”

“Party?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. We were invited to the launch of Christian Siriano’s new collection. But Nick will completely understand if you aren’t feeling well.”

I was invited to a collection launch party? I felt the smile on the face widen. At least in the midst of waking up ten years older, I had a pretty decent life. “We don’t have to cancel. As long as you stick by my side, it should be okay.”

“I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

“I want to go,” I promised. “Maybe it’ll help me remember something.”

Gianna looked uncertain, but also was biting her lip like she was considering my idea. After a few moments of considering me, she groaned. “Fine. But Liam will want to come to make sure that you’re alright. I’ll call Nick and Rachael.”

“Rachael?”

“Your assistant.”

“Right.” I had an assistant. Sixteen-year-old Daniella was snorting at me right now. “I can call Rachael, if you want to call Nick. What time is the party?”

“Not until eight.” She looked at her watch and sighed. “I’ve got to head out. I’m meeting a potential new employee for lunch. You’ll be okay here by yourself, right?” She looked so worried that I sent her a small grin. 

“I’m doing better. Seeing a familiar face helped. And I know Harry will call back and he’ll help.”

Her face fell. “Right. Harry will call.” She didn’t sound convinced. “Well, if you’re sure you’ll be okay, then I’m off. Call me if you need anything, okay? Or Liam.”

“I will, Gianna. I promise.” I couldn’t stop myself from reaching forward and giving her a giant hug. I honestly didn’t know what I would have done if she hadn’t been here to calm me down. “Thank you.”

“I’m always here for you, sweetie,” she whispered, squeezing me back before releasing. “I’ll see you tonight. I’ll have my driver pick you up at around seven forty-five so you don’t have to worry about getting an Uber or anything.”

Gianna left, shutting the door behind her quietly. I could do nothing but stand in the middle of my apartment, staring at the home I’d somehow managed to create for myself, despite my not remembering it. I tried searching through the pictures on my wall to see if I had any with my mother and father, but before I could I remembered Gianna’s words about calling Rachael and took my phone out.

She answered on the second ring. “Hello Miss Rodriguez. How can I help you?”

It was then I realized I had absolutely nothing to say to her. “What are you doing tonight?” was the only thing that blurted out of my mouth.

“Um...staying here to work on that collection concept you asked me to?”

“Oh. Why aren’t you going to the party?” I questioned. If Rachael worked there as my assistant, then wouldn’t she have gotten an invite? Why would she willingly choose to stay and work when there was a freaking Christian Siriano launch party?

“I wasn’t invited, Miss Rodriguez.”

“Well that’s stupid,” I claimed. “I am officially inviting you.”

“You’re...you’re inviting me to a launch party?” She sounded confused, like I’d never interacted with her before. Which was insane. Had Gianna been wrong when she said Rachael was my assistant? “You’ve never done that before.”

“Sure I have!” I did not, in fact, know if I ever had. Then, I had the best idea ever. “Oh! Can you do me a huge favor please?”

“Yes ma’am. What do you need?”

“Could you find out where Harry Styles lives?” Surely Harry wouldn’t mind if I dropped by. I was getting a little anxious as the minutes ticked by without a reply, as Harry usually had his phone glued to him. Since we were both apparently twenty-six now, it was entirely possible he was at work, but I would still feel comfortable knowing I could see him in person rather than texting over the phone. 

“Of course. I’ll email you his address. Is there anything else you need, Miss Rodriguez?”

“Nope, that’s it, Rachael. Thank you! I’ll see you tonight!”

“Right…see you tonight, Miss Rodriguez.”

When I hung up the phone, I had no clue what to do. Being in a body I didn’t really know, in an apartment I wasn’t familiar with, was terrifying. So I decided to take the time to snoop around my own place, starting in the kitchen. I opened up cupboards and drawers, finding fancy chrome silverware and glass plates that were neatly stacked in the cupboard above my kitchen sink. The entire kitchen was decorated with black paint and dark wood, something I never thought my own kitchen would look like. It was sleek and modern and so far from my colorful blue-cabinet and white tile kitchen at my childhood home that it was almost shocking.

Opening up the fridge, I examined its contents. Inside was nothing but vegetables and almond milk. I was pretty sure I had never once had almond milk and there were purple vegetables in one of the drawers. Did purple vegetables even exist? I closed it, suddenly frightened of what Liam and I seemed to eat on a day-to-day basis. Moving out from my kitchen, I examined the living room with passing interest. The one thing I was really concerned about was my bedroom.

This room was nearly as dark as the kitchen, with canned lights dimmed when I flicked the light switch on. It was attached to a bathroom which had a heavenly looking tub. Deciding to start in the bathroom, I rummaged through some of the drawers, finding an expensive Tom Ford cologne that I assumed belonged to Liam. in my own drawers there was a variety of face creams and serums that I had only ever dreamed about purchasing when I was sixteen. 

Before I could examine my bedroom too closely, my phone chirped. I had honestly forgotten I was holding it, so the sound made me jump before I realized it was probably Rachael with Harry’s information. I tried to hurriedly unlock my phone again, still struggling a little with the technology, but managed to get Rachael’s new email opened.

Harry Styles, 515 W 52nd Street. Avalon Clinton apartment complex.

Grinning, I managed to quickly strip my silk sleepwear off and change into the first outfit I found, not bothering to even zip up my boots all the way as I exited my building.

~

Harry’s apartment complex was an incredible building. My jaw dropped when I saw it, figuring that to live somewhere like this, he must have been doing pretty well at whatever he was doing. 

I found the intercom well enough, pressing the button that had H. Styles written on it in cursive script. It crackled to life underneath my touch, and just like drinking a cool sip of water after being dehydrated for thirty days, hearing the deep baritone of Harry’s voice instantly soothed me. “Hello? Who is it?”

“It’s me!” I screamed, nearly sinking in the relief that this was the Harry that I was looking for. “Daniella!” 

“Shit, the fucking thing’s broken again. I can’t hear you, but ring twice if you’re from Amazon. I’ve been waiting on that package for days.”

I didn’t know what he had bought on Amazon and it was most likely important, but I didn’t care. I hit the button twice and the door immediately opened up. Once I checked to make sure I was headed towards the right floor, I scurried inside and into the lobby.

There was a front desk, and the concierge smiled at me when I walked in, but I was on a mission. I hastily made my way to the elevators, pressing the fifth floor button and willing the doors to close faster than they were. Sure I resembled a drunk cheetah with the rush in which I was moving, I almost crashed into Harry’s door when the elevator finally stopped and let me off on his floor.

“Harry!” I demanded, pounding on the door in a series of succinct knocks that portrayed my urgency.

The door swung open and I immediately took a step back. There, standing on the other side of the door, was my best friend in the entire world. Long gone were the shoulder-length strands of curly brown hair that I had grown up with, instead cut short. He had some glasses perched on his nose and something that looked like paint on his hand. He was wearing comfortable looking jogger pants and a white shirt, no shoes or socks on his feet.

In my pleasure to see him, it took me a couple of moments to realize that he did not look equally as pleased to see me.

“Daniella,” he said stiffly, opening the door a little wider and leaning on the threshold. “I can honestly say I wasn’t expecting this.”

I launched myself at him.

He let out a “oof” when our bodies collided, but I was holding onto Harry and suddenly everything seemed okay in the world. My arms wrapped around his neck in a vice-like grip, holding him to me like he might disappear if I loosened my hold even a little. He robotically moved his arms around my shoulders to hug me back, but his stiff posture turned soothing when he realized that on top of squeezing him with all my might, I was also sobbing. 

I prided myself on not being a weepy person, but this entire morning had warranted a good cry, in my personal opinion.

“C’mon inside,” he said softly, gently prying my hands off him. Once we were both inside his apartment, he shut the door and moved to his kitchen. I wondered if I should follow him. Just when I had mustered up enough nerve to take a step, however, he had returned with a tissue in his fingers. “Want to sit?”

I nodded and let him lead me to the colorful orange couch he had in the middle of his living room. Well...living room was a little bit of an overstatement. He lived in a studio apartment, so everything was an open floor plan, save for the small door I saw that led to a bathroom. His place had much more color than mine did, and I found myself jealous at the styling choices. This place was much more me.

“Feeling better?” Harry asked, sitting on the opposite end of the couch. This in itself was weird, considering sitting on a couch with Harry almost always ended up with us sitting as close as we physically could. This was because we were both blanket-hoggers and being close meant neither one of us was trying to jip the other out of their respective half of the blanket. 

“I don’t know what’s going on, H,” I told him, my voice cracking as the emotions of this morning hit me all at once. “I...I think I’ve got amnesia or something. I don’t remember anything past my sixteenth birthday. And then I’ve got Gianna telling me that you and I don’t talk anymore?” I looked over at him and let out a crazed laugh. “How crazy is that?”

“We don’t talk anymore, Daniella,” he replied. “We stopped being friends shortly after your sixteenth birthday.”

Tears gathered in my eyes again. “No, I refuse to believe that. We’re Harry and Daniella. You’re my best friend in the entire world.”

He looked genuinely sorry to be telling me this, but shook his head. “No, Daniella. Not anymore.”

This time, I let the tears fall. My fingers curled in on themselves, balling into fists as I tried to stop myself from biting them or ripping my hair out. We sat in silence for several moments, my heart racing in anxiety because here was Harry, the person I knew most in the world and who knew me in return, and he was saying that we weren’t friends anymore. The bike rides, the late nights watching movies, the careful and soothing hugs he gave me...they were all gone. This Harry didn’t know me, not like I knew him. And who was to say I even knew him anymore?

“Why?” It was the only question I could seem to let escape.

Harry sighed, rubbing his hands over the thighs of his jeans. “I don’t know, Daniella. We just grew apart.” 

“People like us don’t just grow apart, H.”

“We did.”

“There’s got to be a reason!” I exclaimed, and I could hear that my breathing was labored. My chest felt like it was constricting, like someone had taken hold of my lungs and was crushing them between their hands.

He sensed the anxious change in my breathing and his eyes widened. “Hey, hey, Daniella. Take deep breaths for me, okay?” His body shifted off the couch and suddenly he was on his knees in front of me, holding my arms in his hands. He was tall enough to nearly be at eye-level with me. “C’mon, Dani. Breathe. Can you tell me five things you see?”

I was sure I looked a mess, with tears streaming down my cheeks and on the verge of a mental breakdown. “What?” 

“Tell me five things you see, Dani. Count them for me.”

I still couldn’t breathe properly, so his words sounded muffled like we were underwater. But I managed to get the point of his demand. My eyes shifted from his impossibly green ones to find something to latch onto. “You’ve got yellow and red throw pillows on your bed.”

“Good. Count four more for me.”

It was impossible to ignore the soft cadence of his voice. “You’ve got granite countertops. You’ve got playbills on your bookshelf.” It made me wonder if his dreams of designing sets had really worked out. “You’ve got clay on the counter. And there are sculpting tools next to it.”

“There she is,” he said softly, a hand hesitantly raising to brush my hair back from my face, where it was sticking because of the tears. “Now count five things you can feel.”

“The couch. My nail polish. Your shirt.” I brushed my finger against the shoulder of it. “My hair. The paint on your hands.”

He looked down at them, as if remembering. “I scrubbed, but it wouldn’t come off.”

“Typical,” I choked out, giving him a tight smile. My breathing was beginning to even out and return to normal, but I still felt like someone had placed the weight of the world on my shoulders. “What happened, H? Tell me.” I had to know. I had to know why we suddenly weren’t friends, like we had been for our entire lives.

I heard a sigh escape him, but luckily his fingers didn’t retreat. I think if he pulled away, I might have started up on the attack again. “I don’t know, Daniella. We just grew apart. I guess it was you hanging out with Gianna in high school. You just stopped bothering with me. Or maybe it was the funeral—”

“What funeral?” I interrupted.

“C’mon Dani,” he whispered brokenly, “you know what funeral. Don’t make me say it.”

“I don’t remember anything, Harry. I swear to you. I woke up this morning and my...my boyfriend of three and a half years that I don’t remember at all was trying to get me to calm down because I didn’t know who I was. I look like me and feel like me, but at the same time...I don’t? For Christ’s sake, Harry, I’ve gone and gotten myself a boob job!”

He cleared his throat, his cheeks turning pink. “Obviously I hadn’t noticed, Dani. I’m not looking there.”

“It’s hard to miss them!” I was glad this seemed to get a laugh out of him, but he turned serious once again.

“You really don’t remember anything?”

“Not a thing past the night of my sixteenth birthday. The last thing I remember is you giving me my cupcake and then blowing out the candle and you trying to smash it in my face and then...nothing.”

His thumbs on my shoulders began to rub across the fabric of my jacket. It was cold in his apartment, but it was a comfortable kind of cool. To be honest, I hadn’t felt as comfortable this morning as I was sitting here now, with my best friend looking at me like I was something fragile that was about to shatter. At this moment, I didn’t care if he thought I was weak. If it meant that he would explain what the hell was going on and tell me that we could be friends again, I would cry a thousand more tears.

“Dani,” he whispered in a tiny voice, “I’m so sorry.”

“What funeral?” I asked again.

He flinched, like he was avoiding the question. Then, his arms moved to caress my face, anticipating my reaction to his next words. He cradled my cheeks like I was going to fall apart. “Your dad’s.”

I couldn’t speak. I just stared at him, processing his words. That couldn’t be right. I had just spoken to my father less than twelve hours ago, when he had helped me set up a board game table in our basement as asked if we had a couple minutes for a quick round of Operation. My father was always a sore winner. He had purposely jostled the table so I would hit the metal and lose my turn. 

“No, you’re lying,” I mumbled, but I knew deep down that Harry would never lie to me. He was honest to a fault.

“You...you weren’t at the funeral. You and he were in an argument of some kind and you didn’t show up.”

I shook my head, his hands moving with me as he cupped my cheeks. He anticipated the tears, catching them with his thumb the second they started to fall. “No, H,” I groaned out, the feeling of panic twelve times worse with the new news. “No, no, no.” I was a blubbering mess. He didn’t move from his spot, slotted between my thighs and holding my face tightly in his hands. “No, there’s got to be some mistake. I would have gone. I would have.”

“Maybe you did,” he said in a soothing voice, brushing my tears away. “I left pretty early. Maybe you just showed up late.” But we both knew his words were empty. He didn’t truly mean them. “Let’s get you a glass of water, yeah?”

“No!” I clutched onto his fingers, gripping them tight enough to leave bruises. He didn’t pull away or wince in pain. 

“Alright,” he said soothingly, “I won’t go anywhere.”

He allowed me to sit on his couch, crying my eyes out until there were no more tears that could possibly come. Last night, I went to bed with everyone I ever loved in the world content and safe. Now, I had lost my friendship with Harry, I didn’t remember this insanely nice boyfriend I apparently had, and my father was dead. I hadn’t gone to his funeral because of some stupid argument. What argument could have been enough to keep me from attending his funeral?

“What have I done to ruin everything?” I questioned in a teary voice, shaking my head at myself. What the fuck had I done in my life to deserve this? There had to be a reason.

“Don’t think like that, Dani. It wasn’t your fault.”

But obviously it was. Obviously there was something I had done to piss off the universe so much that they took the most important people away from my life. I stood up quickly, suddenly feeling like Harry’s apartment was suffocating me. He let me go without question, but his eyes were trained on me like he was afraid I was going to have another panic attack. “I have to go,” I stuttered out, my body moving towards the door before the sentence fully left my mouth. 

“I think you should stay here until you feel better,” Harry said, kind enough to worry about me even though apparently we weren’t friends anymore.

“I’m sorry for showing up unexpectedly.” They were the only sentiments I managed to get out before I was out of his apartment, rushing towards the elevator. I didn’t know why I was running away from Harry. All I knew was that it was imperative that I get out of his apartment and away from the life I’d apparently fucked up.

The elevator doors were closing when I heard him call my name. 

I let the tears fall once again.

~

Since I was a little girl, I had dreamed of getting invited to a party as fancy as a Christian Siriano launch party. Now, here I was, waiting for Gianna to pick me up for said party, and I felt like shit.

I had reluctantly gotten ready for the party, pulling out a fancy dress and one of my many pairs of heels that I already wanted to rip off my feet. I was already missing the Vans my mother had gotten me for my birthday that I had been wearing when whatever this weird dream had happened to me. Due to my low mood, I hadn’t felt like doing much to my hair, so it was just up in a high ponytail that would have to do. This weird twenty-six-year-old skin of mine didn’t need foundation, but I made sure to coat my eyelashes in waterproof mascara in case I started sobbing again, which I had in spurts since leaving Harry’s apartment.

My father was dead. The only reason I was even going to this stupid party and not on the soonest train ride back to my mother was because maybe something at this party would shake my memory loose and I would remember something. In reality, I wanted to curl up in a corner and cry some more. Still, when Gianna’s limo pulled up in front of my building, I plastered a smile on my face and opened the door with mock enthusiasm.

“You look amazing, sweetie!” Gianna said excitedly when I opened the door. She was wearing a bright yellow dress that set off the dark color of her skin perfectly, along with gold accessories. “Love that color on you!”

The first dress I had picked was a bright fire-engine red high-necked dress with tulle puffed sleeves. The shoes were a satin material in the same color as the dress. If I had been in a better headspace, I would have screamed because the label on the dress said Versace, but right now it didn’t matter who the hell had made the dress. I plastered on a smile. “Thanks. You look fantastic.”

“Get your ass in the car! Nick is so happy you decided to come tonight. Christian is looking forward to it, too!” She slid over in the seat as I situated myself inside the car. The second the door shut behind me, her driver was taking off to the destination of the launch party. “Liam is coming tonight, too. He texted me and said he wanted to surprise you, but I figured that with everything going on, a surprise is the last thing you needed.”

This was smart of her. If Liam showed up and started being as incredibly kind and sweet as he had been this morning, I might have thrown up. Did he know about my father? Had I talked to him about the mysterious argument that had estranged us? I felt the tears welling in my eyes again at the thought of it, so I choked them back and tried to focus on Gianna, who was talking a mile a minute about who would be at the launch.

“Rachael is coming too. She said that you invited her this morning,” Gianna said, looking at me to confirm. When I nodded, I was surprised to see a frown grace her features. “Sweetie, that’s fine and all, I’ve got no problem with Rachael. But she hasn’t exactly been to one of these before. And she’s a bit meek. They might eat her alive.”

I frowned. “Rachael is nice. I wanted to invite her.” I had no clue if Rachael was actually nice, but I knew she shouldn’t be excluded from the party even if she was meek and hadn’t been to one before. “Besides, she did a big favor for me this morning. She found Harry’s address.”

Gianna’s eyes widened. “No shit. Did you go and see him?”

“Yeah. You were right. We aren’t friends anymore.” The words hurt even saying them out loud. “When he answered the door and saw me...he looked annoyed, like I was something from his past he couldn’t shake off.” I guess that’s what I was, now. And even though he had been so sweet, trying to comfort me and holding me tightly, it didn’t change the fact that he hadn’t wanted to see me when I knocked at his door.

“Oh, sweetie. Things will work out, I’m sure of it.”

I wondered if Gianna calling me “sweetie” was a normal thing. I hated it.

We pulled up to the party, smiling fakely at photographers that were loitering outside as we walked into the building, clearing the security easily. The inside was decorated in bright avant garde styles, bleeding color into every corner of the venue. It was a beautiful setup that I would have been dying to explore if I hadn’t been so muddled emotionally. I was so wrapped up in the decorating that I jumped when arms wrapped around my waist from behind, pulling me close to a hard body.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, babe,” I heard Liam say in my ear. “You look absolutely beautiful.” I turned in his arms, immediately throwing them around his neck. I didn’t know anything about this man, but he had offered me kindness and hadn’t given up on me this morning, despite how hard I knew it must have been. He looked extremely pleased at my reception towards him, pressing a delicate kiss on the top of my head. “You need a drink?”

“Sure.” 

As soon as he had appeared, he was gone, Gianna headed over to the bar with him. And then I was alone, standing in the middle of the launch party twiddling my thumbs and feeling like I belonged anywhere but there at that moment. I saw someone moving towards me, a timid looking blonde with giant glasses taking up half her face. Still, she looked wonderful in her pale blue dress. 

“Hi, Miss Rodriguez. Thanks for inviting me,” she said softly when she made her way over towards me. Ah, so this was Rachael. She looked every bit as nice as her voice sounded, and I sent her a genuine smile.

“It’s nothing at all, Rachael. You look great.”

Her eyes lit up, and I wondered how terrible I had to usually be to have her look so terrified of me. “Oh, thank you Miss Rodriguez!”

“You can call me Daniella, Rachael. We’re co-workers, aren’t we?”

“Oh.” She looked surprised. “You told me to never call you Daniella.”

As if my night couldn’t get any worse. “Right. I wasn’t feeling myself that day. I apologize. Feel free to call me Daniella.” Suddenly uncomfortable with the revered way she was looking at me, like I was some kind of fashion god giving her access into the world I lived in, I gestured towards the bar. “Want a drink?”

“Sure!” she said quickly, smiling brightly. “Mind if I go with you? I don’t really know anyone here.”

Me neither, I wanted to say, but refrained. “Of course. C’mon.” Following in the direction Liam and Gianna had disappeared to, we made it to the bar with ease. “What do you want?”

“I’ll take a strawberry martini.”

I had no idea what cocktail I wanted. My alcohol experience consisted of sneaking shitty beer into my basement and champagne at my cousin’s wedding. “Make that two,” I told the bartender, smiling softly as he got to work. “Hey, Rachael, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Miss Ro—Daniella,” she corrected herself. The bartender handed our drinks over and she immediately took a sip. I didn’t bother with mine yet, on a mission.

“Do you know why I wasn’t talking to my father when he died?”

She flinched. “Ah...no. I just remember reminding you about the funeral and...um...you weren’t too happy.”

How selfish was I in this new life that the idea of my father’s funeral made me angry? “Right. If you’ll excuse me, I’m just...going to go powder my nose.”

I left Rachael nodding after me as I walked through the venue. I saw my boss (I still couldn’t believe I worked for Nicholas Jennings) and tried my best to stay out of his sight, lest he greet me and ask me questions I didn’t know the answer to. Walking into different hallways and still not able to find the bathroom, I decided to just lean up against a pillar on the second floor of the building, looking down at the launch with a sense of bittersweetness.

I had seemingly gotten everything I wanted. At what cost?

The second I heard whispers, I ducked behind the pillar, not willing to join in conversation with people. However, I recognized the voices almost immediately as Liam and Gianna.

“I still don’t know what happened to her, Gianna. It worries me.”

“I know. It worries me too. But...we’re still going to tell her, right?”

I peeked out from the pillar and saw them standing at the entrance of the hallway, Liam’s hands wrapped around Gianna’s wrists. The lights were reflecting brilliantly off her dress.

“You want to tell her that we’ve been having an affair for eleven months when just this morning she didn’t recognize either of us?” Liam asked incredulously.

“I know the timing is shit. I know it, Liam. But I can’t hold my feelings in any longer. Besides, you know she was seeing Rachael’s boyfriend for that little three-month period a couple years back.”

“And we discussed that. I forgave her. Sleeping with your assistant’s boyfriend twice isn’t really the same as sleeping with your best friend’s boyfriend of almost four years.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I pushed off the pillar, walking in the opposite direction on my tiptoes so I didn’t draw attention to myself. The hallway swung back around in a circle to the staircase, so I quickly rushed down them when I was in the clear and made my way out of the building, letting the New York air cool my skin.

I hadn’t thought going to this party would make me feel worse, but I had been proven wrong.

Without thinking, I pulled out my phone and called Harry.

He picked up on the second ring. “Dani? Thank god. I was worried when you left earlier. That wasn’t exactly the best news to hear.”

“Do you want to get dinner with me?” I asked bluntly, ignoring his concerns. “I just...I need to get away from reality for a while.”

The other line was silent, and I was terrified he was going to reject me. He would remind me that we weren’t friends, that he hated me and thought I was selfish, and then tell me that he never wanted to see me again. The longer I heard nothing but his breathing, the more certain I was that these events were about to unfold. So I was surprised when I heard him say, “Sure. Meet me at Blue Elephant. It’s the Thai place a couple of blocks down from my apartment.”

For the first time that night, I felt a genuine smile spread across my features.

~

I tried not to laugh when the noodle from Harry’s pad thai dangled from his mouth, but the snort escaped me before I could stop it.

He had gotten to the restaurant much quicker than I had. He wasn’t lying when he had told me it was just down a couple blocks. He had raised a brow at my fancy attire, since he was just in jeans and a black shirt splattered with tiny little paint flecks. His fingernails had clay under them, which would have been gross if I hadn’t known it was because Harry spent nearly all his free time sculpting. The comfort of this sight nearly had me in tears again, but I shrugged it off in favor of ordering what Harry suggested from the menu. I had ended up with what the restaurant called “glass noodles,” which was their low-carb options that had lots of vegetables mixed in. Harry had gone for the classic pad thai, which if the way he was slurping was any indication, he enjoyed.

“How are you doing?” Harry asked hesitantly, like he was unsure how to ask the question.

I shrugged. “I woke up this morning not knowing anything about my life, not being friends with you, finding out my father is dead, and seeing Liam and Gianna discuss how they were going to tell me that they’re having an affair.”

“Shit. That’s terrible, Dani.”

The wry laugh left my lips before I could stop it. “The thing that kills me is that I deserve it. I let a stupid, petty argument that I can’t even remember keep me from the funeral. Apparently I slept with someone in a relationship. It was my assistant’s boyfriend, by the way. And I don’t know what I did to ruin our friendship, but obviously it was my fault.” I twirled some of my pasta around my fork. “I work for Nicholas Jennings as a designer. I just came from a Christian Siriano launch party. I managed to get everything I’ve ever wanted, but it feels terrible.”

“You didn’t ruin our friendship single handedly,” Harry assured. “It was the both of us.”

“I can’t even argue with you, because I don’t remember.”

He sighed, pushing his plate away from him. “It was your party. Everyone had left to go get beer with Gianna’s brother.” I sat up eagerly in my chair, ready to hear his version of events so I could decipher when it all went wrong. “I had just given you the mini-model for my theatre class and then I let you blow out the cupcake and smashed it in your face.”

“And?” I asked impatiently. “And then what? That’s the last thing I remember.”

His hand reached up to rub the back of his neck. “And then I kissed you.”

My mouth had been open, ready to comment on whatever he had said, but no sound came out. I stared at my best friend, who suddenly looked so embarrassed and small, and my heart ached in my chest. “You kissed me?” I whispered, food completely forgotten in front of me.

“I kissed you,” he repeated. “You had strawberry frosting on your face and you just...looked so beautiful. I’ve always thought you were. And there was a moment when you were trying to wipe it off that I thought I might have seen something in your eyes...but I was wrong. I kissed you and you pulled away. You looked so regretful, like you were running through a thousand ways to let me down easy in your head because you were always too kind to me. I tried to tell you to forget it, that it didn’t mean anything, but you were determined to talk about it.”

“Did we?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t let you. I knew the second I pulled away I had made a mistake. But you kept...pushing. And I got angry, said some things I didn’t mean. You got angry back, and said some other things. Then you shoved the mini-model in my hands and told me to leave. The glue was shit, so it crumbled a little. I’m sure it was an accident, but...after the rejection, it felt like it was on purpose.”

“Harry, I would have never—”

“I know,” he interrupted, giving me a hesitant smile. “I know, Dani. It was just me being pathetically in love with you.”

The words made me wish the ground would swallow me whole. “In love with me?” My voice was so quiet, I was surprised he heard it.

“Yeah, Dani. In love with you.”

The Harry from my memories suddenly shifted, as if with his confession I was seeing him in a new life. My quinceañera, when I had asked him to be my escort and he had to help me zip the back of my dress up. The first day of high school, when he had ridden his bike to my house and looked at me like he was seeing someone new. That moment he had just told me about, looking at him with strawberry frosting on his chin because I had managed to swipe some there.

Was there some other emotion hiding in those eyes every time he looked at me?

“I’m sorry,” I said, unable to say anything else.

“You don’t have to be sorry for not loving me, Dani. It wasn’t your responsibility.”

“But I should have fought harder for your forgiveness.” The tears did come then. I felt like that was all I had done today, just sob and sob. “I should have fought for us. I don’t want to be the person that doesn’t fight.”

I stood from my chair, slapping down a twenty dollar bill to cover the price of my meal. He watched me with clouded eyes, part-betrayed that I was leaving him once again and part-understanding that being in that restaurant was going to suffocate me with the weight of what had happened today. As I made my way towards the exit, he let me go.

I wondered if he would have before the night of my sixteenth birthday.

My lip wobbled as I hailed a cab, pulling out my phone to see all of the missed text messages from both Gianna and Liam. There was even one from Rachael, who had seen me leave in a hurry and asked if I was alright. My heart clenched in my chest when I saw her name across the screen. I wondered if she had any clue that I had apparently slept with her boyfriend. Assuming that she would have quit if she had known, I was going to guess she didn’t know. The texts from Liam were all variations of him asking me where I was. 

I couldn’t even be angry with him for cheating on me with Gianna. Who knew what kind of person I was now? What if I had pushed him away, like I had with Harry, like I had with my father? If he found comfort and love in Gianna, who was I to tell him he was wrong? 

My feet were carrying me somewhere I didn’t know, walking in the direction of my apartment that wasn’t home. When the first drop of rain splattered on my nose, I didn’t even feel it. 

I just felt numb.

~

The house before me was very non-threatening. It was a small thing, brick on the outside and a bright red door. When I was younger, the kids at school used to tease me and call it the “Three Little Pig” house, the one left standing at the end of the story that the wolf couldn’t blow down. I hated it when I was little, but I found it comforting now. Even with all that had changed in my life, this seemed to still be the same.

Knocking on the door shouldn’t have been terrifying, but it was suddenly the most scary thing I’d ever done. Before my fist could meet it for a third time, the red door swung open to reveal my mother, looking at me with a softness in her eyes that I was sure I didn’t deserve.

“Harry called me earlier. Said you might be coming here.” Her words were matter-of-fact, like there was no arguing. And there wasn’t. I wasn’t entirely sure how Harry had guessed that I was going to visit my mother, but I supposed he still knew me like the back of my hand. “Said you’ve got amnesia?”

I couldn’t stop the laugh that came from my throat. Amnesia was a weird way of putting it, but it was the only explanation I could give. I was sure “I’m really sixteen and just woke up in twenty-six-year-old Dani’s body” wouldn’t work with my mother. And then I was flinging myself into her arms and sobbing, like I constantly did now. “He said I didn’t come to Dad’s funeral,” I cried out.

“You didn’t,” she replied simply, but she held me in her arms and squeezed my shoulders like she had when I was younger. I hadn’t felt more like myself than in that moment, except maybe talking with Harry. 

“But why? That doesn’t make sense.” I clutched her to me, wanting nothing more than to melt into her skin and disappear forever. 

She sighed, rubbing my shoulders. “Come inside. We’ll talk.”

Minutes later I was sitting at the familiar circular dark wooden table from my childhood. My mother had poured us iced tea, a drink I had forgotten I loved until I took a cautious sip of it. We sat in silence for a few moments, just drinking as she stared at the wall across from me. Just as I was about to open my mouth and ask again what had happened, she began to speak.

“You really don’t remember anything?”

“No,” I promised. “The last thing I remember is Harry shoving a cupcake into my face at my sixteenth birthday party after I made a wish.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “What’d you wish for?”

I smiled grimly. “For you to treat me like an adult.” Awkwardly picking at a loose thread on my sweater, I looked away from my mother. I didn’t want to see the disappointment or hurt on her face when my words registered. “I...I didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah, you did. And you were right. Maybe if I had treated you like an adult, you would have...you would have come to the funeral.” She took a long sip of the tea, steadying herself. “You’ve got to know that we always planned on telling you. But we just never did. And that was on us. And you’d always struggled so much with your identity. Remember when you used to come home from school and cry just because you felt like you didn’t know yourself?”

I remembered those days well. The last one I could remember had been two days before my birthday. Harry seemed to fit in so well with everyone he met, and I just didn’t have that skill. I had come home crying to my mom, asking why Harry could manage to fit in everywhere but I couldn’t. 

“Two Christmases ago you were looking in the attic to help find some tree topper I had bought. You came down from the attic with that piece of paper in your hand and my heart stopped. I knew right then and there that you’d never forgive us.”

“Mom, it can’t be that bad.”

“Believe me, it is.” There were tears in her eyes now as she set her glass down. Her hands shook. “You...found adoption papers and letters from your birth mother. She had written to you every year on your birthday. Your father and I never showed them to you. And obviously...we never told you about the adoption.”

If there was one thing I did not expect for my mother to say, it was that.

“What?” I managed to stutter out, blinking at her in disbelief.

Her tears fell now, streaking the mascara on her bottom lashes and leaving horrible black lines down her face. “We always meant to tell you, you...you have to believe that. And you got so, so angry with us. You said you never wanted to talk to us again. You marched out and went back to New York to stay with Liam. And then your father got sick and I...I just thought we would have so much more time to make things right with you before he died. I called you to tell you about the funeral and you just didn’t care. And the shitty part was that I couldn’t blame you.”

My tears had stopped, simply because I was trying hard to process what she had just told me. My mother, the one who braided my hair when I was younger and kissed my knee when I skinned it, wasn’t my actual mother. And my father, who read me bedtime stories with funny voices and made me pancakes when I was feeling sad, he wasn’t my actual father. I had never felt less like I knew myself.

I laughed.

It was a short, stark sound in the silence between us. My mother had been staring at the ground and she looked up at me in surprise when she heard it. I couldn’t help it. I laughed again. I laughed until there were angry and frustrated tears falling out of my eyes. 

“Do you know what kind of person I am?” I didn’t give her the chance to answer before I started speaking again. “I’ve spoken more to Harry in the past two days than I have in the last ten years. I let him feel like I hated him. I slept with my assistant’s boyfriend and apparently haven’t told her about it. But I did tell my boyfriend, who is currently having sex with my best friend because of something I did, I guess. And now I find out I didn’t go to my father’s funeral because I was being an absolute bitch?”

“You had every right to be upset—”

“No! I didn’t have the right to not go to the funeral!” My lower lip quivered. The reality of the words set in with me then. I had missed my father’s funeral because of something as stupid as me being adopted. That didn’t change the fact that he had gone to all the little father-daughter dances my school held when I was young. That he had taught me how to swim and clapped when I could jump into the pool with no problems. That he had held me when the boy I liked called me ugly. “I didn’t go to the funeral,” I whispered brokenly.

My mother’s arms were around me before I had time to blink. She flung herself across the table and wrapped me in her embrace. I felt her tears on my shoulder, the tears the both of us had apparently needed to cry since two Christmases ago. When the pain got too uncomfortable, I moved out of my chair so I could be closer to her, on my knees on the kitchen floor. She slid out of her own seat, grabbing onto my shoulders and kissing my head.

“I’m sorry,” she kept saying, over and over again. “I’m so sorry.”

“I missed the funeral,” I repeated, my fingers digging painfully into her shoulder blades. If she was in pain, she didn’t show it. She just held me harder as we both kneeled on the kitchen floor.

~

New York was having a good weather day. 

I was sitting outside a little cafe, munching on an ice cream cone. It had been only hours since I’d left my mother’s house. We had talked, cried, drank wine that she had stashed in a cupboard, and cried some more. Even before the freak accident in which I had aged ten years overnight, it was the most I’d really talked to her in a long while. There was a dull ache in my heart because I wanted my father to be there, but my mother had kissed my forehead in the way he used to when I was headed out the door. 

“I love you, Dani,” she had said, with so much conviction that it had nearly brought me to my knees.

“I love you too, Mom,” I had replied. She smiled that big grin of hers, the one I used to tell her could light up the world. 

Now I was waiting for Liam and Gianna to arrive. I had called them both the second I got into a taxi from my mom’s house and was waiting to meet them. The cafe was the first one I had found (though it wasn’t as if they were lacking in New York), so I didn’t know if it was any good or not. If the ice cream was any indicator, it was fantastic.

“Thank god you’re okay,” Liam said from somewhere behind me, and then I was forced out of my sesat and engulfed in a huge bear hug. Liam’s hugs were nice, I decided. Maybe if I had met him when this weird thing hadn’t happened, I would have loved him. “Why didn’t you return any of my calls?”

“I was visiting my mom. Sorry,” I mumbled into his shoulder.

He pulled away immediately. “Your mom? Is everything okay? You haven’t spoken in—”

“Two years,” I interrupted, nodding my head. “Everything’s fine, just needed to talk some stuff out with her.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay.” He pulled me back into another hug, rubbing his hand on my back. “Do you want to sit? Have you ordered anything?”

“Not yet. I was waiting for you and Gianna to get here.”

“You don’t have to wait much longer.” Gianna appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and gave me a small hug. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, sweetie. Did you ever figure out what the hell was going on yesterday? Memory all back?”

“Not at all.” And that was still the frustrating part. I gestured to the little bistro table and watched the two of them as they moved towards their seats. I had never really had to examine how two people moved together before, but they moved like they were magnets. Liam hesitantly reached out his hand for me to hold and I saw the quick glimpse of something akin to heartbreak on Gianna’s face.

At least I knew the two really loved each other.

“So, what did you and your mom talk about?” Liam asked, his thumb making circles on the back of my hand. 

“Life. How things didn’t really work out the way I wanted them to.”

Gianna’s brow raised. “What do you mean, sweetie? You work for Nicholas Jennings. That’s like your dream job.”

“Yeah.” And look where that dream had gotten me. “But I mean in my personal life, not really my professional life.”

It was quiet for a few seconds. Liam awkwardly smiled. “We don’t really know what you mean, babe.”

“I know.” I composed my thoughts for a moment before hesitantly reaching out my other hand to stretch it across the table. Gianna was quick to grab it, but I could tell she still looked a little confused. “I’m not a good person. I see that. I don’t know how you two put up with me. But I like to think I deserve better than my boyfriend and best friend lying to me.” The color drained out of Liam’s face and Gianna was gaping like a fish, opening and closing her mouth as if she’d find something to say. “And you deserve better than the way I’ve obviously treated you.”

“Dani,” Liam said brokenly, but I shook my head.

“It’s okay. We’ve all got things we need to work on, I guess.”

And that was the truth. If there was anything I’d learned from the last two days, it was that I had to work to not be the bitch I had so obviously become in the ten years I’d missed. I pat Liam’s hand comfortingly before standing from the little table, allowing Gianna and Liam to digest what I’d just sprung on them as I walked away. 

I was in a city I genuinely loved. The sky was pretty and blue and I felt a little bit of the ice cream cone in my hand dripping on my fingers. Things were okay with my mom and I. I would never get back the memories I’d lost with my father, but I’d use him as an example on how to be better. I wished for nothing more than to go back in time to my sixteen year-old self to tell her what she was missing when she wished on that stupid candle. 

But maybe it wasn’t all bad, I decided, when I stopped at a hot dog stand to ask for some napkins and saw Harry ordering on the other side.

“Dani,” he said, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “Hey. What are you doing?”

“Walking,” I replied, gesturing to his hot dog. “Looks good.”

“I’d ask you if you wanted a bite, but I know you don’t like mustard.”

The fact that he’d remembered something so insignificant made me smile. “Right.”

He finished up his hot dog and took one of the napkins I offered. “What’re you doing today?”

“Nothing much. Why?”

“Mind if I join you on your walk?”

I pretended to think about it for a moment, but it truly was just pretending. My mind was made up the second the question had left his mouth. “Only if you tell me what you’re doing for work. Don’t think I missed all the clay and stuff in your apartment.”

He flushed, the apples of his cheeks turning a cute pink color. I wanted to poke them, like I used to when we were kids, but didn’t know if it would be welcome or not. “You don’t want to hear about my job,” he said, like he had already decided it was going to be a boring topic.

“Harry, I always want to hear about what you’re doing.”

It was a statement he must not have heard from me in ten years, because he gave me a soft and hesitant smile, the kind of smile I imagined he had given me as kids through the lens of someone in love with me. It made my stomach warm to see it.

“Really?” At my enthusiastic nod, his smile widened a little bit and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay. Well, shortly after high school I was just working for the theater department at the community college. It didn’t pay much, but it was a good experience for the resume. I worked there for about three years and then got into sculpting.”

“Which explains the clay,” I joked, reaching for his hand. I lifted it between us and gestured to the clay caked underneath his nails. He laughed, nodding his head at my observation.

His laughter came up short when he realized that we were skin-to-skin, my fingers dancing across his knuckles to get a view of the clay. It turned his skin a light gray color, somewhat matching the color of the shirt he wore. “Yeah,” he said, and his voice sounded a little breathless. “Yeah, that explains the clay.”

I was hesitant to release his fingers, but I did. He didn’t move his hand away, however, just stared at me with those impossibly green eyes of his. I had always been jealous of them when we were younger. “Harry?”

“Yes?”

“If I were to hold your hand, would you hate me?”

His smile was quick and soft, and I realized there was a tiny little speck of mustard on his top lip. “If you had asked me at sixteen, I would have jumped at the opportunity. And maybe faint.”

I laughed. “I’m not asking sixteen year-old Harry, though. I’m asking twenty-six year-old Harry.”

“Right. Semantics. I suppose he’s fine with it too, if it means you’ll go out to dinner with him.”

Our fingers threaded together, still awkwardly hanging in front of us. His hand was warm and callused, and I could feel the texture of the clay. “I would love to go to dinner tonight. You can regale me with stories about how you fell in love with me when we were kids.”

He laughed, and our hands dropped to fit more comfortably between us. “It’s not very hard to fall in love with you, Dani.”

~

I was used to getting ready for a friend hang-out with Harry. For those, I knew what I would wear. It would be some variation of comfy jeans or leggings, a graphic tee of one of my favorite bands, and some Vans. I was familiar with that ensemble.

It was a little different getting ready for a date with Harry.

He had followed me back to my apartment, where I saw some of Liam’s stuff was already gone. It seems he wasted no time in seeking shelter with Gianna. I was honestly happy for him, if he was happier with Gianna. Harry sat on my couch and laughed while I tried on different outfits, seeing which one would fit his surprise restaurant better since he wouldn’t tell me where we were going. In each dress, he twirled his finger to signal he wanted me to turn in the dress before he disagreed and sent me back.

“Could you at least give me a hint on what to wear?”

“Do you have jeans at all?”

I poked my head out of the door to my bedroom, giving him a look. “I would never wear jeans on a date.”

“It’s a date with me. You know I don’t care what you look like.”

That made the butterflies in my stomach set off. Apparently, however, twenty-six year-old Daniella didn’t own a pair of jeans, so I settled on a casual sundress and slipped it on. It was a pretty orange color that looked good with my skin, and had little yellow flowers printed at the bottom. When I walked out into the living room, Harry grinned.

“Perfect,” he said, standing from my couch. “You look beautiful.”

If I were still sixteen and Harry was just a friend, the words wouldn’t have such an effect on me. But the truth of the matter was, my skin was warming, butterflies were flying, and my eyes were looking at Harry in a new light. “Thank you.”

“I have always wanted to say that to you and not have you punch me in the shoulder.”

“I wouldn’t have punched you in the shoulder!”

“Yeah...but you wouldn’t have looked at me like that, either.”

I wondered what expression was on my face to make his eyes go slightly dark and hazy. Letting out a short, breathless laugh, I grabbed his hand and led him out of my apartment. “Lead the way, since I have no idea where we’re going.”

The walk to the restaurant was spent talking about old memories from the past, Harry’s fingers intertwined with mine. There were several points where we had to stop walking so the two of us could laugh, bending over at the waist as we remembered when Gemma had put makeup on Harry or I had fallen into a puddle of mud at one of our family get-togethers. When we got to our destination, I stared at the theatre in front of us with a look of awe on my face.

“C’mon, I told the guys that I needed this place to myself tonight. I’ll give you a grand tour.”

He took the keys out of his pocket and opened the door. The lights were automatic, turning on when they sensed movement. We were in the lobby of the theatre, with programs from all the productions hung on every inch of the walls. Harry laughed when I took in the colors of all of them as he opened the door to the main stage.

“You’re a giant softie,” I breathed out when I saw that there was a picnic set up on the stage. “I’m telling Gemma.”

“She’ll never let me live it down.”

“That’s the point, Harry.” But I squeezed his fingers even tighter in mine. “It’s perfect.”

The theatre itself was beautiful. Unlike the harsh white lights of the lobby, the stage was lit with warm stage lighting that gave the place a pretty yellow glow. I took the stairs up to the main stage and sat down on a pillow Harry had placed there beforehand, unwilling to let our grip break when he moved to sit down on his own pillow. It was only when he started moving towards the picnic basket that I relinquished my hold on his hand. 

“Okay, I’ve got some pasta, a little cucumber salad, and wine. Because we all need wine.” He made a plate for me and then himself before reaching back into the picnic basket. “And for dessert…”

I wanted to laugh at the little cupcake, nearly identical to the one he had given me on my sixteenth birthday. I could tell it was what he was expecting. But I just stared at it, my throat going dry. Eventually, the smile slipped off his face and he set the cupcake on the stage. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

“I know you didn’t,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I just...you deserve so much better, Harry.”

“Maybe. But who are we to decide that?”

“You deserve someone who hasn’t treated you like shit. Which is what I treated you like. I shouldn’t have let our friendship go just because I was scared that loving you would ruin things for us.”

“Dani,” he said softly, reaching out to take my hand in his. “It’s all in the past.”

“But it’s not. Not for me. For me, it was two days ago. And I know that it sounds crazy and you don’t believe me, but I...I’ve obviously made some choices that have hurt a lot of people and I don’t remember making any of them. I hurt you.”

“Yeah, you did. Look at where we are now, though. Look at where you are.”

“I just don’t want you to wake up and regret this tomorrow because you’re holding onto a sixteen year-old version of me.”

And that was the point of all of this. I couldn’t just forget that this weird time blip had happened, and I couldn’t forget that apparently I had made shitty choices for the past ten years of my life. I wished more than anything that I could go back to the night of my sixteenth birthday and just tell Harry that while I didn’t love him at that exact moment, I would be willing to give us a shot because really, it was Harry. I knew that I could fall in love with him if I just had the time. Maybe I already had been, secretly, and was just scared.

“We’re just...we’re not sixteen anymore, Harry.”

He nodded, his mouth tight-lipped and his eyes sad. I think it was because he knew what I was saying was true. We couldn’t change the past. “I know,” he whispered. “I just...having you back in my life was like this out of reach dream.”

“I don’t want to go the next ten years not talking to you, Harry. But I think you’ll be so much happier with someone else. Someone who doesn’t run away when you tell them you love them.”

The wry smile on his face made my heart break. He gently slid towards the end of the stage and jumped off, his feet hitting the ground with a thudding sound that echoed in my ears. He made it to the back of the theatre before he turned around, tears in his eyes and a small smile on his face. “Maybe in a parallel universe, then. I’ll see you around, Dani.”

The tears were already on my cheeks when the door shut behind him.

I didn’t feel like eating anything after Harry’s departure, but I picked up the cupcake gently, willing it to bring me back to the night of my sixteenth birthday, before I had royally screwed myself over. Setting it down with a sigh, I started to pick up the food items so Harry wouldn’t get in trouble for leaving food on the stage. It was only then that I saw the candle and lighter in the basket.

I cried as I stuck the candle into the cupcake and lit it with the lighter.

“I wish I could go back and do this all over,” I mumbled to myself. Shutting my eyes, I softly blew out the flame of the candle.

I kept them shut as I leaned back and lay on the stage, letting myself fall asleep.

~

“Dani?” I heard, and I opened my eyes slowly. The theatre was gone, the soft yellow light something harsh and white again. I took in my surroundings, noting the Jonas Brothers poster on the wall and the ugly pink color of them. I sat up quickly, looking around the room before I gasped and looked down at my chest.

No boobs. 

“Dani, you awake?” I heard someone say from the other side of the door. Immediately I was up, shooting like a bottle rocket as I flung my door open. Harry stood there, sixteen year-old Harry with his head of floppy curls and the spot of acne on his chin. He was holding something wrapped in a pretty pink box.

“Harry?”

His eyebrows furrowed as he stepped into my room, setting the pink box on my bed as I shut the door behind him. “You okay?” he asked. “You seem off.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” I said, still looking around my room to reassure myself that I was actually here. “I...I think I had a really weird dream.”

“What was it about?”

“It was terrible, H. We weren’t friends anymore.” He sat on my bed and I moved to sit next to him, careful of the pink box that I somehow knew contained a little theatre set he had made me.

“Well, that’ll never happen,” he snorted. “But, let’s focus on something happy. Open up.” He handed me the box. I pulled apart the purple ribbon and opened it up. It was in an Amazon box, but sure enough, it was a beautiful stage designing set. “It’s Wicked, since I know that’s your favorite musical.”

“Harry,” I whispered, “it’s gorgeous.”

“You like it?” When I nodded enthusiastically, he relaxed. “Oh good. I was worried. Also, I got you something else.”

From behind his back he produced a pretty pink strawberry cupcake, complete with a candle. He took a lighter out of his pocket and held it up to me. “Make a wish, Dani.”

When the flame was lit, I closed my eyes. I didn’t bother to make one. There wasn’t anything more that I needed.

I was expecting the smash, and the cool feeling that followed. I was expecting Harry to double over in laughter as pink goop fell from my face. I was even expecting my own laugh as I wiped it from my eyes so it wouldn’t burn them. What I wasn’t expecting was for Harry to suddenly take my face in his hands and kiss me, the minty taste of his breath mingling with the strawberry of the frosting coating my mouth. The kiss was over before it had begun, and Harry stared at me in fear, like I was going to reject him.

Instead, I smiled.

“Harry,” I said softly, reaching out my hand to him. His own hands shook when he placed his fingers in mine. “Do you want to go on a date?”

When his shoulders sagged in relief and he nodded, I knew.

“Oh, and I really need to go talk to my dad.”

[spoopyredacted]

umm i did another thing

pls read

it is soft and maybe a little sad?

you make some brekkie for two(2) soft bbys

tagging @wrestlingfae and @helplessly-nonstop cause they are the best and they love me and i love them

masterlist

Your morning started pretty much how it always starts, with the child babbling away. However this time they seemed much closer than normal, rolling over you open your eyes to see them just at the end of your cot, playing with the small cloth doll you picked up for them some time ago. You smile at the scene and sit up propping your back against the wall.

“Hmmm, hey there sweetling,” Sleep still heavy in your voice the child looks up and smiles, showing their tiny teeth and makes their way to your lap, doll in hand.

“What are you doing up here?” You stroke one of their long floppy ears as they start chewing on the doll. Leaning your head back to rest your eyes, sleep tries to pull you back under as you are content with the child in your lap.

“They wanted to be near you,” You open your eyes at the sound of the Mandalorians’ voice. You didn’t know he was down in the cargo bay with you, usually, when you are asleep he spends his time up top in the cockpit plotting out where to travel next.

However, he’s now sat at the table focused on cleaning one of his blasters, despite just speaking to you, the rest of his weapons are scattered across the top. You still don’t know what to make of the man beneath the mask. Yes, he’s been kind to you and the child, he’s given you both a home and protection that you wouldn’t have found elsewhere. But he’s still such a mystery you wish to solve.

Maybe one day.

Giving a hum in acknowledgment you smirk at the thought of the child bugging Mando to be placed at your side. They probably looked up to him with those big brown orbs for eyes and Mando just caved. As he has done so many times before.

“Well,” You scoop up the child in your lap, a squeak of glee comes out of them as you stand up from the cot. The cold metal of the floor against your bare feet instantly wakes you up fully. A shiver runs through you, your sleep shirt and shorts doing nothing to stave off the ever-present chill of the ship.

“I guess it’s time for some breakfast.” Making your way to the food storage you set the child down on top of a crate and they start babbling away realizing that they are about to be fed.

As you passed in front of the Mandalorian you didn’t see how he looked up from his blaster and his gaze followed you to the containers. You didn’t see how he stilled and watched you place the child down and rummage through the containers pulling out some fruit and a package of oats. You couldn’t tell how when you reached up to grab three bowls from a high shelf, his eyes skimmed the little bit of skin that peaked through at your waist. Wherever you went his gaze followed and his heart fluttered in his chest like a bird trying to escape a too-small cage. The feeling inside him had been growing steadily the past few weeks and he was scared of what it meant. Of what it could would lead too.

So when you set a warm bowl of oats, with bits of fruit mixed in, on the table with a small smile, you never see the longing he holds in his eyes for something he knows he could never have. The only movement you see from him is a tilt of his helmet from you to the bowl.

You grab yours and the child’s oatmeal bowls placing them at the top of the ladder. Climbing back down you pick up the child where you left them on the crate and make your way back to climb the ladder.

Mando is still staring at the bowl as you pass by him. Well as far as you can tell he is still staring at the bowl. He hasn’t moved, blaster still half part in his gloved hands.

“We’re going to eat up here so your dad can eat in peace little one.” You murmur to the child as you begin the climb up to the cockpit.

You’re almost at the top when you hear him, soft, a whisper, if you weren’t used to listening out for him you would've missed it.

“Thank you.”

[regensia]

⇀ @curseofabel | animal shenanigans! ( from discord )

He really needs to stay cool. He wants to stay cool. He doesn’t want to think too much about the whole situation, because he’s not really sure how to handle those knots within his brain, and the fact that he can sense a large tail wagging each time he’s walking. What the hell did they do in their last mission to end up like this? It’s completely fucked up, Mika quite unused to anything supernatural in his life in the first place. The only thing which has ever been the slightest bizarre was his first ugly neighbor haircut, but the mystery has been solved by his brother and him, when they understood that the overuse of hair lacquer could create monsters with cardboard locks. And while he’s having flashbacks of his childhood, his sapphire irises are still unable to look away from those two pointy cat attributes, his fingers brushing them with the softest motion. He can sense the fur instead of the usual white hair right there, incredible to touch, perfect to pet he can’t help but think, while he makes sure to control his movements. Vital seems to slowly appreciate the treatment, his eyes closed, leaning to the touch as Mika wonders if he can even purr right now, chasing for those sensations, until he eventually opens them back to hiss his words. Mika immediately flinches, while he plasters his hand back against his chest as if it has just been burnt, his dog ears immediately shifting and folding against his skull, only to signify that he’s both afraid and sorry. “So...Sorry but it looks so fucking soft!” He argues, the wagging of his large tail turning to something tamed, almost still. “You can’t be mad at me because of it! I bet my ass you want to know how it feels to touch my tail or my ears!”

He huffs, while he stumbles forwards in the apartment, feeling weirdly more at ease right here. He has this sudden urge to look around and inspect the whole environment, his nose suddenly catching all the scents right there, phenomenally more present today. His ears are following the motion of his head while he looks back at the plants, the furniture, a light growl escaping his throat when he notices the gleaming eyes of Theodore from the stairs. He wonders if there’s not some food to steal somewhere… Maybe… Maybe he should inspects the trashcan at some point, and Mika yikes silently as he understands that those thoughts are not natural. While he turns around to face Vital once again, as they need to solve that problem after all, well… His tail is acting without him to control it again. The wagging is back, furious, his pupils dilated and betraying his profound happiness to see him. Oh he missed him! He missed him! He can’t help himself, he’s back at his bullshit, crossing the distance between them to catch his boyfriend once again. He feels… overly affective right now, a terrible need to be there, right against Vital. He starts to kiss his cheek, his nose, his face, the woompf sound of his tail invading the room. Eventually he takes a step backward. “Mmh.” Focus. Focus, Mika, it’s serious shit right here. “Is there a way to get rid of that? Because on my hitman book I never heard about preparing myself to become a focking dog.” Mika growls, his Scottish accent slightly showing as he feels, well, a bit stressed, right now.

for fuck’s sake, he had been downright enjoying being petted. petted. him! being petted not unlike he’d pet his own cat! it had sent warming tingles along his spine that had told his tail to sway slower in a lazy manner, almost making vital hum in relaxation and contentment, trusting mika and his gentle touch, enjoying the scent of the presence of the other. until the more normal part of his brain had regained control, irritated and confused by this development. it seemed they hadn’t gained just physical animal attributes. even after this odd moment, he witnessed the hurt look on the other’s face, amplified by how mika’s ears went back, but it wasn’t enough to dissuade the defensive mood and posture he had taken himself. 

while mika wasn’t wrong that he wanted to touch those soft floppy ears and mess with that swishing tail of his, all the smaller man did was make a noise of apparent disgust somewhere from the back of his throat, stepping aside as his now incredibly distractible boyfriend went further into the apartment, ears already perked up. he watched the other carefully as he took a look around as if experiencing the place for the first time again, and vital had to agree certain things like scents and sounds had been highly amplified, likely for the both of them, his own ears facing forward at what could have only been a growl. maybe in the back of his mind he could consider what a nasty mess this situation and curse was, but all he did was watch his pet theodore whose eyes refused to meet his own, the real cat deciding none of this was worth his time as he turned and trotted off to some other part of the apartment upstairs.  with that, attention returned to mika – he had no other choice – as the man practically rushed him, peppering his face with kisses.

“ wh- no, stop, ” he began to complain, feeling a bit claustrophobic with the sudden attention, those white furry ears turning to the sides, ready to swat at the man once more. a large wagging tail caught his gaze, momentarily looking like something he should grab at and pin, the swish of the fur a bit enticing. but as the other came back to reality and spoke once more, it encouraged vital to do the same, exhaling a rather exasperated sigh. this was already a bit overwhelming and it hadn’t even been more than just maybe a few hours. he felt as stressed as mika sounded, his accent peeking through in his voice, encouraging him to follow suit rather than waste energy in disguising his own welsh accent. it felt a little more comfortable to talk like this anyways, his old home tied to the old world that was responsible for... well, all of this. 

“ there’s likely a way. ” as he spoke, his i’s heavily emphasized in his words. he took a seat on the couch they had already spent plenty of time upon in other nights, not even considering how he was reclined upon his side, tail flicking around in apparent anxiety. “ i haven’t found it yet though – this stuff takes time, and usually bargaining of some kind too. i just... ” he trailed, falling quiet as he pulled his knees to his chest now, staring at the dark screen of the television. “ ffyc, it’ll take time, and we will have to cope. you shouldn’t go out until i get this fixed. ”

[psychopersonified]

Keep Calm, Dance On

Part of the prequel series to "Are we ever going to talk about this?".

I'll post little snippets of their 'not dating' days in this series. Little events that draw them together and the intimacy they share in plain sight.

This particular snippet is an excuse to write a dancing Q and the effect it has on 007.

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“Is that Nish’s mix of Vodka, Redbull and Ribena?” Q surprises him by reaching for the glass, fingers curling around Bond’s to pull it close and takes a sip from it.

The gesture is scandalously intimate considering they are still in HQ among colleagues - if anyone was watching, it would seem as if Bond was feeding him the drink.

---------

Notes: Inspired by Tom Hiddleston’s dance moves. If you haven't watched it, you have to! ENJOY!

———————————----------------------------------------------------

SIS HQ - Q-Branch Lower Ground Level 1

They have rigged the lights to strobe and change colours like in a club. Electronic dance music blares from the PA system. The office space on Lower Ground level 1 has been cleared, equipment moved to the edges and covered with black cloth. 

Bond is nursing a violently sweet concoction that included a large percentage of Redbull, Ribena and Vodka that Nish handed to him at the door. 

He sidles up to Eve catching her attention by touching her on the arm with the hand holding the drink. 

“What is this?” Bond has hardly been to any social gatherings organised internally. Except formal affairs where attendance was compulsory, he’s eschewed getting too chummy with his colleagues. 

Eve smiles at him a little disbelieving, “James, haven’t you ever been to one of these? Oh you’re in for a treat.”

It does not look like much is going on at the moment. A large section of the central floor is outlined and gridded with hazard tape in what looks like a potential dance floor. However, no one is dancing despite the music, preferring to keep to the edges. 

“What a smashing party,” his voice dipping with sarcasm.

“Oh James, don’t be so quick to judge. Just wait—…”

And just then, the lights dim as if on cue. The outer glass doors swish open and white smoke floating low on the ground rolls into the main space. A tall slim male figure is silhouetted in the doorway. The crowd quiets down immediately. 

“What’s happening?” 

“Hush!” Eve bids him, pulling them into a better position. 

The music picks up. The figure descends the short flight of stairs, feet quick and lithe, then comes sauntering towards the dance floor in long easy strides. The crowd parts for him.  

He stops right in the centre of the dance floor and the lights brighten just enough to reveal of all people, the Quartermaster dressed in an impeccable black suit - this one for once tailored perfectly to his lanky figure. The jacket and trousers are tight accentuating the slim waist and long slender legs. The hair is still a floppy artful mess, but the back is clipped short and neat, making him look much younger than he really is - he could still effortlessly pass as a university student.

Bond chokes badly on his drink, hiding it quickly with a cough. Not quick enough. Eve’s eyes slide to the left to regard him with with a look and a smirk. 

On the dance floor, Q strikes a nonchalant pose. A hand comes up to undo the single button on the dinner jacket. His hips start moving to the rising beat. The air is thick with anticipation. 

Then it happens - the beat drops and Q is a sudden blur of movement. His long legs ripping up the dance floor in time with the music and with practiced ease. His movements are precise and controlled but infused with fluid grace. 

There is no trace of the cloistered, sometimes hesitant and  flailing chief boffin that calls this concrete cave his lair. These, my god, these are the confident movements of a young man that has done more than his fair share of clubbing in the trendy nightclubs of London. 

Bond is rendered speechless. He is aware that the intense scowl forming on his face is an over compensation - to keep his jaw from hang open otherwise.

The crowd of semi inebriated colleagues ROAR, wildly appreciative. They start to close in on the dance floor. 

Around the edges of the crowd, movement catches Bond’s trained eyes. He’s not the only Double-0 invited to party. He can see 003 and 006 emerge from their lurking places behind thick brick columns. Their quartermaster’s sudden display of sexuality has piqued their interest - like predators catching the movement of prey, it is almost as if they can’t help themselves. 

This will NOT do. Something that has been smouldering for sometime inside Bond ignites - something deeply possessive and steeped with arousal. 

The music builds to a crescendo and the whole thing is over in less than three minutes. Q’s choreography finishing in time with it. He is panting a little, but otherwise unruffled. 

There is a brilliant smile on his face as his hands finds the edges of his jacket to straighten it with a dramatic flourish before doing up the buttons again. When he’s done, he spreads his arms, palms up in welcome - and he tips his head to the crowd. 

The Quartermaster officiates the party by calling to everyone, “Please, carry on!” 

With that the music starts again and the party begins in earnest. People clapping, cheering and pouring onto the dance floor. The place is transformed in an instant. 

The melee of moving bodies helps Q melt into the crowd and Bond looses sight of him for a moment. He sees 003 dart out from her position to slice into the crowd. Her red hair and outfit light making her more easy to see. 

Shit. Bond scans the crowd for Q. When he finds the quartermaster, he launches himself into the crowd - completely forgetting to take leave of Eve who was still standing next to him. 

How rude! Eve doesn’t really take offence. In fact, she’s surprised he’s lasted this long. She barks out a laugh and shakes her head. 007 likes to think he’s an international man of mystery - but he can be so obvious at times. 

Conveniently for Bond, Q was making his way in his direction - or more likely towards Eve. They’d probably agreed to meet somewhere near the drinks table. 

Bond intercepts smoothy, he passes Q on the man’s right and swings around behind him to end up on the left. This allows Bond to hook his right arm around Q’s waist briefly before resting his palm on the small of his back. 

The move catches Q off guard who was about to say hello to Bond. For a moment, he felt a twinge of embarrassment when thought the agent was going to walk straight past him - only to be startled when 007 ends up nearly pressed to his side on the left. 

“Have you been holding out on me quartermaster?” the loud music an excuse for Bond to lean in close, lips nearly touching Q’s ear. 

He takes the opportunity to glance back to where he last saw 003. She was just ten feet shy of catching up to them. He sends her a wink and she stops in her tracks. She smiles back with a shake of her head conceding defeat. 

“Ah, 007. I see you’ve decided to grace us with your presence after all.” Q smiles up at him. He is still panting slightly from the exertion of the dance - his lips are dark pink and there is beautiful colour in his cheeks which just further highlights the smooth curve of his cheekbones. 

The effect hits Bond like a punch to the gut. Fuck. He wants so badly to devour those lips. To bury his hands in that ridiculous hair. To make him pant prettily in his arms. ..

“…Bond? Are you alright?” Q’s concern snap him out of his thoughts. 

“Ah yes. Sorry where are my manners. Let’s get you a drink.” Bond holds up his half empty glass in his left hand and gestures towards the drinks table.

“Is that Nish’s mix of Vodka, Redbull and Ribena?” Q surprises him by reaching for the glass, fingers curling around Bond’s to pull it close and takes a sip from it. 

The gesture is scandalously intimate considering they are still in HQ among colleagues - if anyone was watching, it would seem as if Bond was feeding him the drink. 

The thought of it results in a flaring heat of arousal that nearly causes him to trip - and he has to violently push it back into its cage. Bond is pretty sure he is starting to show in his trousers. 

“Ugh! Every bit as vile as imagined,” Q passes verdict on the drink. The sip leaves a layer of shiny sweet liquid on his lips and Bond wonders how it would taste if he were to lick it off. 

Stop it. Behave! Bond is blindsided by the intensity of his own reactions. At this rate he is not sure how he will survive the night.

“Come. I know what you’ll like..” Q veers off before they reach the drinks table. Bond’s imagination is going to overdrive and his mouth dry. He follows closely because that is all he can do at the moment. He would have followed Q right off a cliff if it meant he could remain within touching distance. 

They peel away from the crowd of revellers and make their way to the back of the cavernous space. There is a recessed area in the back, off to the side that serves as Q’s unofficial office. It is dark, but there is just enough light from the party to illuminate the area dimly. 

 Q ducks into a corner and switches on one of the worklamps, angling the shade upwards so it throws light onto the ceiling instead. The effect is to softly illuminate the recess - almost romantic. 

Then Q goes to the filing cabinet behind his desk and pulls out from the bottom drawer a bottle of 12 year old Macallan Whisky; three quarters full. He looks around the workspace for something. 

“…I don’t have a clean glass.” Q explains. 

Bond looks around, he sees the penholder on Q’s desk. It is an old mug with a broken handle. He removes the contents and then tips the remains of the Vodka-Redbull-Ribena into the receptacle. 

Q hands him the bottle of scotch; then moves to sit on the edge of his desk facing the party. His long legs extend out in front of him. 

Bond rinses out the glass with the tiniest amount of scotch he can bear to waste, then pours enough for both of them to share. He passes the glass back to Q before settling himself on the edge of the table as well - shoulder brushing Q’s.

“Ah, much better.” Q says after a sip.  

“Never guessed you to be a scotch drinker. Then again, never pegged you for a dancer either…” Bond says as he reaches for the glass in Q’s right hand. Instead of taking it from him, Bond returns the gesture Q made earlier - his larger hand wrapping around the smaller one to pull the glass towards himself.

“Did I meet your expectations?” Q asks, eyes not leaving his as he watches Bond take a sip. 

“Oh, I’d dare say you’ve exceed it—“ he replies after he swallows. Then right into Q’s ear, “—by a wide margin.” 

Q shoots him a fond look that tells him how ridiculous he is being, but makes no move to put any distance between them. It is a brief look, but tenderness blooms in his chest and he has to look away before he does something stupid. 

His eyes end up following the stretch of long slim legs clad in tight trousers; which was a poor move. He knows he is going to end up with the worst case of blue balls by the end of the night. 

They stay that way for the next half hour. Watching the party, gossiping a little and sharing the drink. Not once did he remove the glass from Q’s hand, preferring to repeat what he did earlier each time he takes a sip - drinking right out of the quartermaster’s hand. 

——The End——

Note: If you liked this fic, there’s more like it on the blog. Including my take on a kidnapped Q. Enjoy!

[unholyhelbig]

So. I need a sequel to the dog park prompt because it was beautiful.: Beca goes back to the park at the same time to wait for Chloe. She cuddles with crash until she shows up. Maybe has a nap. Please.

[A/N: This is the best I could do at this point! Anyway, this actually isn’t the first time I’ve written Crash into something. I remember doing a Triple Treble Prompt with him!] 

–> CHECK OUT THE FIRST PART OF THE PROMPT 

–> SEND ME YOUR REQUESTS HERE 

Crash was a restless animal. That was apparent from the first time Beca stumbled upon the little dog hanging his floppy head over a cardboard box. His makeshift home was falling apart at the seams, part of it darker from the rainwater that had collected the last few days.

She had barely seen him through the looming storm and thickening air. She had her jacket pulled over her eyes the second the wind started to push her heavily as she walked back to her apartment. But a little flash of black eyes stopped the young burette in her tracks.

Beca tucked her bag against her shoulder as she went against her better judgment and stepped away from the streetlamps that illuminated every few inches of the pathway. She heard rustling, a little noise of cardboard against asphalt as she drew in a careful breath and fished for her phone.

Without drawing too much attention to herself, she flicked on the flashlight that was built into her phone, holding her breath. Her chest started to burn from the rancid scent of whatever food surrounding businesses had thrown out.

The puppy blinked a few times against the harsh change in atmosphere, and Beca’s heart effectively melted from its icy exterior the second she saw the little guy. His paws were too big for his frame. His fur was sandy and matted with misty rain. He was small, and one of his ears flopped over his big blue eyes. Eyes so blue that Beca suddenly didn’t care how her apartment didn’t really allow pets, or how she hadn’t the slightest idea about taking care of something bigger than a hamster.

Beca learned.

It had a large curve, but her tiny puppy eventually grew into his paws, and nothing could separate the two from each other; his clumsy nature had worked in tune with hers like a well working clock- and eventually the two had a natural routine. Which included heading to the park around six o’clock to burn off some of that energy he always seemed to harbor.

“I’m pretty nervous, you know?” Beca mumbled, her back pressed against the nearest oak tree that lined the clearing.

Crash was curled up into her side, resting his head on her lap as he breathed in and out carefully. His large doe eyes flicked up to his owners, eyebrows knit together in an attempt to understand her somber tone. She stroked her fingers down his back and behind his ears.

“I don’t even know her name.” She drew in a breath, air cold “But I don’t think I care. She’s so…” He let out a small whine that was in the shape of an exhale. “Mysterious, yes! That’s the word.”

Beca had never been so infatuated with someone before. She had dated her fair share of women and men. She had gone through the crappy club nights with drinks so neon that they shouldn’t be edible. She had sat through movies holding clammy hands and listened to bands that she had never heard of before- but had never been quite as infatuated by a simple promise like this one.

“What do you think about Sammy?” Her dogs head perked up at that, lifting off her lap as he lilted his head slightly to the right “She’s pretty cute right?” His tail picked up speed as she let out a little chuckle and scratched under his chin.  

Beca relaxed a little more as Crash cuddled back into her side, her fingers curling into his side as she leaned her head back against the tree. She was drowsy, and Crash was warm, and work had been beyond long. The studio making her head pound and her stomach churn more than usual- the prospect of the end of the day pulling at the back of her mind as Beca fell into a restless sleep, her fingers clenching onto the leather leash (One she had just replaced.)

She wasn’t sure how much time past before she stirred, her neck aching, mouth dry as she realized the exact lack of warmth that plagued her. The leash wasn’t in her hand- her fingers balancing on the edge of her jeans. She was, however, acutely aware of a thick vanilla scent in her lungs as her eyes shot open.

Beca was met with bright blue eyes that reflected of pure curiosity.

The stranger was squatted down, her jeans pushing into her stomach as she wore a goofy grin on her face. It was amused, and Beca, practically beside herself, shot up from her position against the large oak tree.

“What the hell?” She rasped out, voice thick with sleep.

“You know Beca, it’s not a smart idea to fall asleep in a public park.”

“Fuck off.” She groaned, pressing her free hand against her hairline. She was cold, and her bones seemed to ache through her muscles. Her nose was raw, eyes blinking the remainder of exhaustion away.

“You could have licked the chains on a swing set if you wanted to catch a cold.”

Beca snorted, noticing very quickly that her dog’s leash was in the woman’s hand. Crash was wagging his tail hard enough to shake his whole entire body, Sammy licking underneath his chin as they sat calmly next to one another. Her Crash was never still- and it almost made her blood boil that this woman had such an effect on the puppy.

She caught the glimpse of a shining object under the husky’s chin. Deep russet fur surrounded a black leather collar- Sammy seemingly lifting her large head to get a better grasp on things. The woman stood up now, fluidly and without much effort.

“Mind helping me up,” She outreached her hand, devilish look in her eyes. “Beale.”

She stilled, her icy eyes flicking down to the small brunette that wore a smirk on her lips. Her hand was stretched outright- the woman’s auburn hair clouding her vision. It was a curly mess, and her breath stopped forming in front of her.

“You put your last name on your dogs’ collar.”

“I suppose that’s how you plan on getting my number too.”

“No, I was thinking Coffee.” Beca quipped, “If I could get up.”

The woman seemed to relent, dropping her shoulders slightly as she grasped onto the girl’s outstretched hand, pulling her to her feet. Beca’s body groaned under the weight of her sudden movement, and she hated herself even more for the way she had dozed off in the middle of a crowded park.

Beale jutted out her hand, Beca grasping the leash that was warm from the contact that it received. Crash seemed to huff in annoyance at the change, nudging his cold nose against Beca’s knee with as much force as he could muster.

“Watch it,” She mumbled, scratching the back of her neck as she stared up at the stranger with the large dog “I’m serious about that coffee.”

“I didn’t’ doubt that you were,” She smiled, a bright illumination of light against the cloudy dusk.

“If you say no, then it’s going to be on your conscious forever that I have a terrible cold.” She coughed dramatically into her closed palm. “What if I catch my death?”

“Then I shall lick a swing set in your honor.” She said, straightening her stance as she saluted. “Only after we get that drink.”    

[lirlovesfic]

The Choice

A Doctor Who fanfic Summary: After GitF, the TARDIS brings the Doctor, Rose, and Mickey back to the estate to solve a problem involving the TARDIS herself. But when they see a familiar face, the face of someone who should not exist, they realize the problem is deeper than they thought and could endanger the Doctor’s very existence. Primary characters: Ninth Doctor, Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Mickey Smith, Jackie Tyler. Genres: Romance, mystery, adventure, drama, character study, HN AU, fobbed!Nine, sick TARDIS. Pairings: Nine/Rose, Ten/Rose Rating: Adult

Warning: None for this chapter

a/n: I am currently working on editing this chapter-by-chapter, with the hopes of completing a chapter a day until I catch up with myself. As I mentioned in a previous post, I’m doing it to try to get back into the swing of writing and to build some momentum in order to finish this. Also, there have been some tiny things nagging at me for a while (grammar, punctuation, etc.) so I’ll be correcting as many of them as I can find as I go. The story will not change. In fact, most of the changes are going to be so minor that I doubt anyone (besides myself) will notice. But to keep me on target, I’ll be posting it all here as I go, with links to the other websites it’s on. I hope you enjoy it.

This chapter: on AO3, on TSP, on ffnet

Prologue–London, 1 January, 2007 Six months ago… Fire. Searing heat. An inferno of red and yellow and orange rushing through the deep red grasses of the plains. Red flames igniting the trees. The delicate silver leaves ablaze, turning the trees into torches that illuminated the night sky. Screams. Running. Monstrous metal creatures of silver and black with glowing eye stalks. Shooting beams of energy. Killing everything in sight. "Exterminate! Exterminate!" Disjointed faces. Circling, swirling in front of his eyes. Voices. Echoing… An elderly man. Straight white hair. Beaky nose. "One day I shall come back. Yes, I shall come back..." Dark, straight hair. An expressive face. "Jamie, stay with me, don't wander off." White hair. Piercing eyes. "Courage isn't just a matter of not being frightened, you know. It's being afraid and doing what you have to do anyway." Brown curls. Floppy hat. Lots of teeth. "Just touch these two strands together, and the Daleks are finished... Have I that right?" Straight blond hair. A young face. Pleasant features. "Brave heart, Tegan." Blond curls. Haughty, arrogant. Filled with righteous indignation. "Power-mad conspirators, Daleks, Sontarans, Cybermen - they're still in the nursery compared to us. Ten million years of absolute power. That's what it takes to be really corrupt." Dark hair. A Panama hat. "Every great decision creates ripples. Like a huge boulder dropping in a lake. The ripples merge and rebound off the banks in unforeseeable ways. The heavier the decision, the larger the waves, the more uncertain the consequences." Dark curly hair. A grave expression. "It's not my war. I will have no part of it." An elderly man. A warrior. "No more!" Explosions. Fire. Fire everywhere. The ground on fire. The sky on fire. The sounds of screaming– Suddenly cut off. Silence. The silence of space. The silence of the Void. The silence of the dead. After a moment that could have lasted a second or a year or several millennia, new images, new sounds, emerged out of the blackness. New faces. New voices. Plastic people. A hand in his. A glimpse of blonde hair. "Run!" "Are they students?" "Nice to meet you… Run for your life!" "The turn of the Earth… I can feel it. Now forget me…" "It wasn't my fault! I couldn't save your world! I couldn't save any of them!" Someone swinging on a chain, saving him. Another glimpse of blonde hair. A pretty face. Warm brown eyes and a generous mouth. "You were useless in there. You'd be dead if it wasn't for me." "Yes, I would… Uh... I don't know... you could come with me." "You could come with me…" "You could come with me…" The feel of something repetitively poking him in the ribs drew him slowly back to consciousness. As awareness returned, he gradually realized he was lying face down on something hard. Rough. Asphalt. Cutting into the side of his face. "Oi, mate. Wakey, wakey," said a deep male voice. The poking became harder, more insistent. He opened his eyes a crack. Even that slight movement made his head pound. Despite lying horizontally, he was struck with a wave of dizziness and nausea. "Come on, time to wake up." This was a different voice. Lighter, younger. Feminine. He wondered where he was, and cautiously he opened his eyes wider. Someone, probably the person poking him, was shining a torch in his face. Through the glare, he could see a series of bins in front of him. All sorts of rubbish lay on the ground around and under them–pizza cartons and takeaway containers, empty glass whisky bottles and half empty pop bottles, cast off bits of clothing and used condoms and fragrant nappies, and large black bin bags filled so tightly they threatened to burst–as if the people who had left it all couldn't be bothered to actually lift up the lids of the bins and put it inside. He turned his head, wincing at the throbbing pain that shot through his head at the move. Black shoes led to black trousers led to radio equipped utility belts led to bright yellow rain slickers and black helmets. Police officers. One, the female–petite with dark brown skin and closely cropped hair–was looking at him with a frown, while the other, the male–large with a red, beefy face–was still prodding him with a baton. "Ow," he complained. "Sir, are you hurt?" the policewoman asked. He groaned. Now I am, he thought. "Sir, have you been mugged?" she asked. "He hasn't been mugged, Seward," her partner said. "New Year's, unconscious in an alley, he's sleepin' it off. And now he needs to go home." The policeman turned back to him. "So you need to get up and go home, mate." "I don't smell any alcohol on him, Rutgers," Seward told him. "Doesn't mean anything," Rutgers said. "Alcohol, drugs… whatever he took, he needs to sleep it off at home, not in the alley." "Shouldn't he go to A & E?" "Not if he's not hurt," her partner replied. "And I don't see a mark on him." As they spoke, he felt an overwhelming wave of drowsiness. His eyes drifted closed. "Oi, don't go back to sleep!" Rutgers said, poking him again. "Wake up." "Sir, can you tell us your name?" He opened his eyes again. The policewoman, Seward, was kneeling over him now, concern written all over her face. "Can you tell us your name?" she repeated. "Is there someone we can call?" He opened his mouth to answer… and realized he didn't remember. Not whether he had any family, not where he was from, not how he had ended up in the alley. Not even his name. Nothing. "Told you he was drunk," Rutgers said. He couldn't argue with that. He didn't remember, so for all he knew he had been. "Check his ID," the officer continued. Seward reached forward as if she was going to check his pockets, and he held up a hand. Slowly he pushed himself up to a sitting position and patted down his jacket. All he could find was a slim wallet in an interior pocket. He handed it to her. "Looks like he's… John Smith from Manchester," she said. She handed her partner the wallet. "Manchester, eh?" Rutgers said. The officer examined the contents before handing the wallet back to him. "You're a long way from home." He flipped open the wallet. Only one thing in it, a driving license made out in the name of John Smith, Manchester, with the picture of a man with short cropped hair and a big nose and big ears. Him, he guessed, although the face didn't look familiar. Frowning, he searched the wallet. Beyond the license there was nothing in it. No money, no credit card, no NHS card, not even an old ticket for the Tube. He returned his attention to the driving license. There was something odd about it. For just a second, he could have sworn it was just a blank piece of paper… "Yeah, guess I am," he replied. He put the wallet back in his pocket. "So what's your story? Drunk or mugged?" John tried to remember, but he couldn't. The name sounded familiar, but odd at the same time, like it could be his but really wasn't. But until he could figure out who he was, it was as good a name as any. "If you were drunk, we could let you go with a warning," Rutgers continued. "But if you were mugged, we'd have to bring you in to file a report. Now which was it? Drunk or mugged?" There was only one answer he could give. If they brought him in to file a report, he'd have to admit he didn't remember who he was, and that could mean a stint in the local psychiatric ward. No. If he was sectioned, he'd never figure out who he was. "New Year's," he said, remembering that the officer had mentioned it earlier. "Was celebratin'. Had a couple too many at the local and got pissed. Was on my way home, but obviously didn't make it." Rutgers nodded sharply. "Right. We'll be on our way, then. And next time, make sure you head home before you're so drunk you can't walk." He headed out of the alley, but Seward hung back for a moment, a worried expression on her face. "Are you going to be able to make it home all right?" she asked. "Absolutely," he told her. She nodded. John could tell she didn't believe him, but she stood and headed towards the mouth of the alley anyway. Just before she left, he stopped her. "Hey," he said impulsively. "What year is it?" She stared at him in shock. "It's 1 Jan, 2007. Are you sure you're alright?" "Don't worry about me," he told her. "I'm fantastic. Absolutely fantastic." She gave him another disbelieving look before turning and following her partner out of the alley. John gave them a several minute head start before he stood up. His entire body ached, as if it had been pummeled repeatedly. Maybe he had been mugged after all, he thought. Without knowing where to go, he slowly staggered out of the alley, never noticing the tall blue box he was leaving behind.