#it would be cool if Mr. Thomas told the school the lie about the kids being diseased and Barron just feeling like there's something off

[iamumbra195]

Guys, what if Barron actually became an important part of the overall plot?

Like I dislike the guy as much as the next person but he was also one of the last people to see Ashlyn and co. at school before they disappeared. He also saw Logan transform from a timid kid to someone who suddenly takes none of his shit and even saw all the kids go a little psycho that day at the park.

He's also the only established character besides Mr. Thomas at school too... I don't know but I just have this feeling that he's going to be somewhat important and I'm not sure how I feel about it.

[ginnympotter]

call it even

Chapter 1: you’ll always know me

A/N: This is the first chapter of a 2 (or possibly 3? who knows) chapter Muggle AU fanfic inspired by tis the damn season and dorothea by taylor swift hehe hope you like it :) You can also read it on AO3 here.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and took a deep breath. It was way too early in the morning, she had just gotten off a long flight where she barely slept a wink, and she just didn’t have it in her to talk to any fans without the coffee she was impatiently waiting for at the LAX Starbucks.

But she turned around anyway, bracing herself, and then saw a face that jolted her so much she supposed she wouldn’t need the coffee anymore. “Harry?”

“Hey, Ginny,” he smiled. Harry Potter was standing in front of her for the first time in almost a year, looking as handsome as ever. He was tired, his green eyes looking glazed behind his glasses, his hair pointing in all directions- though she could tell he didn’t try to comb it- wearing the grey-blue sweater she knew her Mum bought him years ago.

Without really thinking about it, she moved forward and hugged him, throwing her arms around his neck, and he put his around her waist and hugged her back, but he also let go first.

“What are you doing here?” she asked incredulously, trying not to think too hard about him breaking the embrace before she could.

“My students had a tournament against a school out here,” he explained. “We lost though.”

“I’m sorry,” she offered.

“Oh, don’t be, I don’t mind. But the kids all seem like they’re going to jump out of the plane before we can make it home. I was up until 2am consoling the quarterback. My assistant coach is talking them all down now out there while I grab us coffee.”

She nodded, biting her lip. And then blurted out, “Why didn’t you call?” At Harry’s confused look, she added, “to tell me you were in L.A.?”

He cleared his throat, and Ginny saw a light blush creep up his neck. “Well, I knew you were away for your match. I caught some of it, you played great, as always.”

“Oh,” she responded, feeling stupid. She sometimes forgot that as a member of the U.S. Women’s Soccer team her schedule was often public knowledge. She felt a tug at her heart thinking about Harry still supporting her after all this time. “Right, thanks. I wish I could’ve shown you around the city. Did you like it here?”

He shrugged. “Not bad, but big cities aren’t really my style. You know that,” he ended, a solemn note in his voice. “Have you been enjoying it out here?”

She mirrored his shrug. “It’s fine, I suppose. I like the weather, if that counts.”

“Nothing else?”

With most people she’d probably just lie and say she loved it, but with Harry she had a bad habit of always being blunt. “The traffic here is worse than what they warn you about, and honestly, it’s hard to make friends when it seems like everyone just wants to use you for your fame- or for the more famous people that you know.”

“Well, if you’re ever tired of being known for who you know, you know you'll always know me.” Harry offered her a sad smile. “I’m always a call- or a FaceTime- away. Not that a tiny screen is my ideal way of seeing you, but better than nothing.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond right away, as she could feel her whole body burning up and her throat closing. There was so much in the air between them. But the barista called out a cold brew, and at the same time they both said, “oh, that’s me,” then looked at each other and laughed. The first one had Ginny’s name on it, the one that followed five seconds later had Harry’s.

They walked away from the coffee pick-up area together, and Harry checked his watch. “Well, we have to board soon. I’m sorry this is the only way we got to see each other.”

“I’ll be home for Christmas,” Ginny told him in response. She originally didn’t plan on reaching out to him when she got back home, because she knew her brother and Harry’s best friend Ron would just tell him, and if he wanted to see her he could make that decision for himself. But suddenly this became information that she couldn’t hold in.

“Oh,” responded Harry, running his free hand through his hair. Her heart fluttered at that motion, as she knew what it meant- that he was nervous in a good way. “Well, that’s great! Let me know when you plan on getting in, I’d love to catch up, properly.”

“Yeah, me too,” she said, the sincerity spilling out against her will. She never could truly play it cool with him, not even when they were kids. She hugged him again, smelling home lingering on his sweater. “I will. Have a safe flight, Harry.”

His grip on her was tighter this time, even with coffee in hand, than the last. “You too,” he replied. And then stiffened and let go. “I mean, you already had your flight, so that made no sense. Have a safe...cab ride home, I suppose?”

Ginny laughed at his stumbling. “I’ll do my best.”

He smiled, raising a hand in a small wave as he walked back towards his students. “See you later, Gin.”

She returned the smile and watched him reach his students. She noticed one of them looking at her as if they recognized her. She saw him nudge Harry with his elbow before she turned around and began walking to find her cab driver. As she continued to stride forward she faintly heard him ask, “Mr. Potter, was that just… Ginny Weasley? Do you know her?”

***

It was her fault for thinking her brothers would give her some indication that Harry would be there. They knew she still had feelings for him, no matter how much she denied it and how many times she tried to move on, and yet they couldn’t even give her a heads up.

When Fred and George saw her exasperated expression, they rolled their eyes in unison as Fred put his arm around her. “Are you reverting back to your 11-year-old self, little sis?”

“Fuck off,” she said, shrugging out of her brother’s embrace. “You could have at least warned me.”

“I thought you were bold, or whatever,” said George. “Wasn’t that one of the three qualities you used to describe yourself in People Magazine?”

Harry began walking over to them. She mentally prepared herself as he hugged Fred and George and congratulated them on the joke shop’s expansion. As he turned his attention to Ginny, the twins quickly left to talk to other guests. He didn’t smile.

“Hi,” she said nervously. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Hi,” he replied, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his drink. “Ron told me you landed three days ago.”

She gulped, feeling his hurt absorb her. “Well, I just got settled in and recharged, you know. I- I was going to text you.” Which was true; she did intend on keeping her promise to Harry at the airport, but didn’t know when the appropriate time would be- how do you know the right time to text your ex and first love to casually catch up?

He hummed, taking a sip of his beer. She absolutely despised cold Harry, she could feel it emanating off of him. “It’s fine,” he said, ostensibly lying. “I was catching up with some other people from school anyway. Remember Cho?”

Oh, he was cruel, bringing up his ex like that. “Obviously,” she almost spat. As if she could forget.

“Saw her and Neville, Hannah and Luna the other day.”

She had half a mind to mention Dean Thomas, her boyfriend right before Harry in her sophomore year, reaching out to her asking to go for a drink, but couldn’t find it in her to do it, so instead she just mirrored his cool and pretend unbothered tone. “I don’t remember asking, but thanks for the information.”

Harry’s frown became more clearly defined. “Fine, sorry to bother you.”

She felt a chill as he walked away from her, a familiar ache pooling in her abdomen. They were fighting like they were teenagers rather than grown adults. It was unlike him to start it- it was usually her- but she couldn’t really blame him, though. She knew at the end of the day that she was the main culprit, that she made him ache the way she did because she didn’t know how else to hold it on her own.

She watched him return to her brother Ron’s side and take another large sip of his beer. Ron’s wife and one of both Ginny’s and Harry’s closest friends, Hermione Granger, gave Harry an appraising look and then walked over to Ginny. Hermione gave her a short hug and then said, “Alright, which one of you said something stupid this time?”

Ginny scoffed, pulling away from her friend. “Oh, it’s nice to see you too, Hermione.”

“I saw you yesterday. So which one of you started it?”

“Obviously he did! He had the audacity to mention hanging out with Cho Chang to me.”

Hermione gave a look of utter exasperation. “That’s a new low for him.”

“I know!”

“But I’m assuming you replied with equal spite?”

She sputtered, crossing her arms. “Maybe so.”

“Well, you should have texted him, Ginny.”

“He should’ve texted me! ” she whispered sharply.

“But you told him at the airport-”

“No, I know that, but- I mean, he should have texted me after…” she trailed off, feeling ashamed of herself for being this upset. “After your wedding last year.”

“You mean after you two slept together again after my wedding last year.”

“Well, yeah. Once I got back to L.A. at least. But nothing.”

“You could’ve texted him then, as well.”

“Whose side are you on, anyway? I know Harry’s been your best friend forever and everything but I’m your sister-in-law! Doesn’t family by marriage mean anything to you?”

Hermione shook her head and rubbed her temples. “You two really need to sort out your issues on your own. But if it helps to know, he wasn’t really ‘hanging out’ with Cho. We were out with him and the others as well, Cho wasn’t in our group, she just happened to walk in with Michael Corner and they stopped by our table and said hi for a quick minute.”

“She’s dating Michael? My ex-boyfriend Michael?”

“Oh, yeah, they’ll be engaged any day now,” Hermione informed her.

“That lying piece of-”

“You’re both to blame here,” Hermione declared, using her I’m Putting My Foot Down voice. “Just act like adults for once and sort it out. Properly.”

Guilt enveloped her throughout the rest of the night and she hated how such a small exchange could do this to her, as she had to act like everything was okay, be happy for her brothers and talk about her life in L.A. and as a famous soccer player and sell the life she was living as one she was satisfied to have.

By the end of the evening, before he could leave, she found Harry by himself sitting and reading something intently on his phone. She took a deep breath and walked over to him. “Mind if I sit here?”

He looked up for a second, shook his head, and continued staring at his phone. She eased up just a tad, as she could tell his silence wasn’t his I’m Ignoring You silence, but rather his I’m Deep In Thought and Concentration silence. “Everything okay?” She asked, and when he glanced her way she gestured to his phone.

He gave a half-laugh, half sigh, looking back at his screen. “Yeah, it’s just some of these parents have no boundaries… emailing me during the holidays- on a Friday night no less. I’m just reading through them to decide if any of them are worth responding to outside of my automatic away signature.”

“Is this for the football team kids, or your English Literature students?”

“My Lit students, but there is some overlap. I have this one student, Danny, who’s a really great kid, and his parents are real dickheads, and they’re mad that he got a B+ instead of an A, despite me telling them last quarter that a B is a great grade, and Danny’s already self-conscious as it is and could use encouragement rather than nitpicking over bullshit-“

He caught sight of her face and quickly cut himself off, a blush spreading across his cheeks. She realized she was smiling- it was always nice to see Harry talk passionately about something- and quickly adjusted her facial features. He cleared his throat and closed his phone. “They can probably wait until after the holidays for me to repeat myself, I suppose.”

“I think that’s the right call,” she assured him.

He exhaled, running his hands through his hair and then over his face, trying to wipe off his exhaustion with it all. “Thanks.” He put his hands on his lap and looked at her fully, as he refused to do a couple of hours ago. “Ginny, I’m sorry-“

“No, I’m sorry,” she interjected. “I told you I’d let you know when I’d be here and I didn’t. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I let my frustration get the better of me,” he said with a sigh. “Classic Harry for you.”

She laughed, folding her legs into a pretzel in her seat. “Can’t blame you, really, as I’d probably behave the same.” She let out a breath and continued on. “Look, I did mean to text you and tell you I was back. I just… I don’t know, I was stupid, I thought it had to be the right timing, but I guess that doesn’t make much sense.”

“What, were you waiting for a sign or something?” he asked. He was joking when he asked, but as he processed the look on her face he rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Wow, Gin. You never stop amazing me.”

She blushed and laughed nervously, thinking of all the times in the past Harry had said something like that to her. She wanted to hear more of it, over and over, even when he’s saying it in jest. “That is what I do best.”

His features sharpened a bit and he leaned forward. “Well, how’s me asking to see you tomorrow for a sign?”

She put her hand on her chin and pretended to think about it. “A pretty good one, I’d say.”

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars XLVIII (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I feel like I go from ‘This is just a fun fluffy chapter with a nice picnic :)’ to ‘This is a bloodbath, you will cry and you will hate me.’ That’s cool -Danny

Words: 4,444 (this is aesthetically pleasing omg)

Warnings: Corpses, blood, trauma.

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Seven: New Lessons.

"Hey, Harry," said Seamus Finnigan during their Potions class that Thursday morning, "have you heard? Daily Prophet this morning — they reckon Sirius Black's been sighted."

"Where?" said Harry and Ron.

"Not too far from here- It was a Muggle who saw him. 'Course, she didn't really understand. The Muggles think he's just an ordinary criminal, don't they? So she phoned the telephone hotline. By the time the Ministry of Magic got there, he was gone."

"Not too far from here..." Ron looked over at Harry and Mel. Then he caught Malfoy staring and sneered. "What, Malfoy? Need something else skinned?"

The boy had returned with his arm covered in bandages, he didn't need them of course, but no one seemed to notice. Snape forced Ron and Harry to do the hard work for him, so he was sitting on their table.

"Thinking of trying to catch Black single-handed, Potter?" He asked with a taunting smile.

"Yeah, that's right," Harry said, not really paying attention.

"Of course, if it was me," Malfoy continued quietly, "I'd have done something before now. I wouldn't be staying in school like a good boy, I'd be out there looking for him."

"Are you sure you wouldn't be crying under your bed?" Mel asked through greeted teeth.

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" Ron frowned.

"Don't you know, Potter?" Malfoy's eyes examined his expression.

"Know what?"

"Maybe you'd rather not risk your neck," Malfoy shrugged. "Want to leave it to the dementors, do you? But if it was me, I'd want revenge. I'd hunt him down myself."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked with a lack of patience.

"You should have finished adding your ingredients by now; this potion needs to stew before it can be drunk, so clear away while it simmers and then we'll test Longbottom's..."  Snape said to the class.

They walked over to the gargoyle sink, Harry whispering his doubts to them.

"What did Malfoy mean? Why would I want revenge on Black? He hasn't done anything to me — yet."

"He's making it up," said Ron. "He's trying to make you do something stupid..."

"Wouldn't be the first time, would it?" Mel scoffed.

"Everyone gather 'round," said Snape, he was next to Neville and Hermione's table, "and watch what happens to Longbottom's toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned."

The Gryffindors watched fearfully. The Slytherins looked excited. Snape picked up Trevor the toad in his left hand and dipped a small spoon into Neville's potion, which was now green. He trickled a few drops down Trevor's throat.

There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Trevor gulped; then there was a small pop, and Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Snape's palm.

The Gryffindors burst into applause. Snape, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robe, poured a few drops on top of Trevor, and he reappeared suddenly, fully grown.

"Five points from Gryffindor," said Snape, which wiped the smiles from every face. "I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed."

"Five points from Gryffindor because the potion was all right! Why didn't you lie, Hermione? You should've said Neville did it all by himself!- Where is she?"

Harry and Mel turned. Hermione was nowhere to be seen.

"She was right behind us..."

Malfoy passed them between Crabbe and Goyle. He smirked, and it took a great deal from her to not throw a shoe at his head.

"There she is," said Harry suddenly, pointing at the end of the stairs.

"How did you do that?" said Ron.

"What?" said Hermione, joining them.

"One minute you were right behind us, the next moment, you were back at the bottom of the stairs again."

"What?" Hermione looked slightly confused. "Oh — I had to go back for something. Oh no —"

A seam had split on Hermione's bag. Harry wasn't surprised; he could see that it was crammed with at least a dozen large and heavy books.

"Why are you carrying all these around with you?" Ron asked her.

"You know how many subjects I'm taking," said Hermione breathlessly. "Couldn't hold these for me, could you?"

"But —" Ron was turning over the books she had handed him, looking at the covers. "You haven't got any of these subjects today. It's only Defense Against the Dark Arts this afternoon."

"Oh yes," said Hermione vaguely, but she packed all the books back into her bag just the same. "I hope there's something good for lunch, I'm starving," she added, and she marched off toward the Great Hall.

"D'you get the feeling Hermione's not telling us something?" Ron asked Harry.

"Maybe she's just carrying them to study between classes?" Mel offered, but she didn't actually believe that what she said was the whole truth.

A student approached her, he pocked her shoulder and gave her a note.

"Professor Dumbledore told me to give you this," He told her, going away as soon as he'd said it.

"Oh?" She unfolded the note. "Oh! It's my lesson!"

"What does it say?" Ron leaned over to read, forgetting about Hermione.

"He'll meet me tonight after dinner," Mel squirmed in her place, excited. "Can't wait!"

"Do you have any idea of what he'll be teaching us for our first class?" Hermione asked her anxiously.

Mel had told them (in utter secrecy) that Professor Lupin was sort of related to her, she didn't have to, but Ron and Hermione were her best friends along with Harry, and she wanted to be honest.

"I haven't talked to him since our first day," She tilted her head, "but I haven't heard bad things about him, so I trust he'll be good."

Professor Lupin entered the room just then, looking way better than the first night.

"Good afternoon," He said. "Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today's will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands."

The kids shared curious and excited looks as they obliged, wondering what the man may be planning. Once they were ready he glanced around and nodded.

"Right then, if you'd follow me."

Puzzled but interested, the class got to its feet and followed Professor Lupin out of the classroom. He led them along the deserted corridor and around a corner, where the first thing they saw was Peeves the Poltergeist, who was floating upside down in midair and stuffing the nearest keyhole with chewing gum.

Peeves didn't look up until Professor Lupin was two feet away; then he wiggled his curly-toed feet and broke into song.

"Loony, loopy Lupin," Peeves sang. "Loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin —"

Rude and unmanageable as he almost always was, Peeves usually showed some respect toward the teachers. Everyone looked quickly at Professor Lupin to see how he would take this; to their surprise, he was still smiling.

"I'd take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves," he said pleasantly. "Mr. Filch won't be able to get in to his brooms." Filch was the Hogwarts caretaker, a bad-tempered, failed wizard who waged a constant war against the students and, indeed, Peeves. However, Peeves paid no attention to Professor Lupin's words, except to blow a loud wet raspberry.

Professor Lupin gave a small sigh and took out his wand.

"This is a useful little spell," he told the class over his shoulder. "Please watch closely."

He raised the wand to shoulder height, said, "Waddiwasi!" and pointed it at Peeves.

With the force of a bullet, the wad of chewing gum shot out of the keyhole and straight down Peeves's left nostril; he whirled upright and zoomed away, cursing.

"Cool, sir!" said Dean Thomas in amazement.

"Thank you, Dean," said Professor Lupin, putting his wand away again. "Shall we proceed?"

She'd only seen him do magic once or twice during her summer, but it was all domestic, little spells. This demonstration was the first thing Mel witnessed on her uncle's abilities, and she was intrigued, to say the least.

They stopped outside the staffroom and their Professor invited them in, they found Snape sitting in one of the armchairs, however, he stood up to leave.

"Possibly no one's warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear."

Mel scowled at the man in front of her, she couldn't believe that such a nasty person could teach at school. Professor Lupin didn't miss a beat.

"I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation," he said, "and I am sure he will perform it admirably."

"Now, then," said Professor Lupin, beckoning the class toward the end of the room, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe where the teachers kept their spare robes. As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.

"Nothing to worry about," said Professor Lupin calmly because a few people had jumped backward in alarm. "There's a boggart in there."

Most people seemed to feel that this was something to worry about. Neville gave Professor Lupin a look of pure terror, and Seamus Finnigan eyed the now rattling doorknob apprehensively.

"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," said Professor Lupin. "Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks — I've even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice.

"So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a boggart?"

Hermione put up her hand.

"It's a shape-shifter," she said. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," said Professor Lupin, and Hermione glowed. "So the boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears.

"This means," said Professor Lupin, choosing to ignore Neville's small sputter of terror, "that we have a huge advantage over the boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?"

"Er — because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?" Her friend offered.

"Precisely. It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a boggart make that very mistake — tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening. The charm that repels a boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing. We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please . . . riddikulus!"

"Riddikulus!"

"Good," said Professor Lupin. "Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in, Neville."

The boy -quite bravely, if Mel would say so- stepped forward, trembling from head to toe.

"Right, Neville," said Professor Lupin. "First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"

He mumbled out something, but no one could hear.

"Didn't catch that, Neville, sorry," Professor Lupin replied, smiling politely.

"Professor Snape."

All the kids laughed, however, their Professor only nodded, deep in thought.

"Professor Snape... hmmm... Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?"

"Er — yes. But — I don't want the boggart to turn into her either."

"No, no, you misunderstand me. I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?"

"Well... always the same hat. A tall one with a stuffed vulture on top. And a long dress... green, normally... and sometimes a fox-fur scarf."

"And a handbag?" prompted Professor Lupin.

"A big red one," said Neville.

"Right then," said Professor Lupin. "Can you picture those clothes very clearly, Neville? Can you see them in your mind's eye?"

"Yes?"

"When the boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape," said Lupin. "And you will raise your wand — thus — and cry 'Riddikulus' — and concentrate hard on your grandmother's clothes. If all goes well, Professor Boggart Snape will be forced into that vulture-topped hat, and that green dress, with that big red handbag."

"Oooh!" Mel exclaimed in her place, she couldn't wait to see that. And judging by the chuckles and nervous smiles of her classmates, neither could them.

"If Neville is successful, the boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn," said Professor Lupin. "I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical..."

Mel froze.

What was she afraid of?

The dark, perhaps- No, she didn't mind waking up at night and walking alone to the toilet. Insects? No... they were small, weak things. They couldn't hurt her...

Hurt.

She knew a thing or two about pain, there were worse things than spiders or ladies in white nightgowns and black, dirty hair. There are murderers, and death.

Death. Not hers... around her.

"Everyone ready?" said Professor Lupin.

She heard the rest of the students mumbling an agreement.

"Neville, we're going to back away," said Professor Lupin. "Let you have a clear field, all right? I'll call the next person forward... Everyone back, now, so Neville can get a clear shot —"

They all retreated, backed against the walls, leaving Neville alone beside the wardrobe. He looked pale and frightened, but he had pushed up the sleeves of his robes and was holding his wand ready.

"On the count of three, Neville," said Professor Lupin, who was pointing his own wand at the handle of the wardrobe. "One — two — three — now!"

A jet of sparks shot from the end of Professor Lupin's wand and hit the doorknob. The wardrobe burst open. Hook-nosed and menacing, Professor Snape stepped out, his eyes flashing at Neville.

Neville backed away, his wand up, mouthing wordlessly. Snape was bearing down upon him, reaching inside his robes.

"R — r — riddikulus!" squeaked Neville.

There was a noise like a whip crack. Snape stumbled; he was wearing a long, lace-trimmed dress and a towering hat topped with a moth-eaten vulture, and he was swinging a huge crimson handbag.

There was a roar of laughter; the boggart paused, confused, and Professor Lupin shouted, "Parvati! Forward!"

Parvati walked forward, her face set. Snape rounded on her. There was another crack, and where he had stood was a blood-stained, bandaged mummy; its sightless face was turned to Parvati and it began to walk toward her very slowly, dragging its feet, its stiff arms rising —

"Riddikulus!" cried Parvati.

A bandage unraveled at the mummy's feet; it became entangled, fell face forward, and its head rolled off.

"Seamus!" roared Professor Lupin.

Seamus darted past Parvati.

There she stood as the rest of the class faced their fears, and it was one of the funniest things she'd ever seen. The energy in the room was simply so full of life... And then it was her turn.

She stood above Dean's fear -a severed hand- and waited.

Crack!

Her mother laid dead on the floor- Crack! Dumbledore's corpse was in front of her- Crack! Ron's body- Crack! Hermione-

It changed so fast that she couldn't focus on what she was supposed to say.

'Say it!' She begged to herself, 'Say it before it turns into your uncle! Say it!'

Riddikulus. Riddikulus. Riddikulus...

Crack!  

Harry's eyes were staring right at her, eyes wide open in fear, but lifeless.

RIDDIKULUS!

ZAP!

Dashing blue sparks blew out of her wand and, with no warning, the boggart fell back at her feet,  this time as a rubber duck.

Professor Lupin exclaimed with wide eyes, "Miss Dumbledore... you know non-verbal spells?"

"I don't..." She was so shocked about her actions that her panic sounded like utter calmness, her eyes fixed on the duck.

"Outstanding..." Her uncle said with a strange glint in his eyes.

Mel stepped back, holding her wand tightly with both hands.

Harry and Mel were quite uneasy after class, the former because their Professor tackled his chance with the boggart with no explanation, and her because, well, it was never easy to see your loved ones dead.

Almost all of the class had left the classroom happy and talkative, but whenever their eyes landed on her they'd go pale, not daring to talk about what they'd seen.

She understood, of course. They saw Dumbledore and several of their classmates' bodies, it wasn't exactly a sight for sore eyes. She didn't know how dark her mind could go until the boggart showed it. She got up from the Gryffindor table until most of the students were gone, Dumbledore was waiting for her at the entrance, ready for their first lesson.

"Good evening," He said gently. "Follow me, please."

She didn't speak until Dumbledore mentioned her Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson.

"Professor Lupin had the kindness to let me know that today you managed to do a non-verbal spell," He started. "Are you aware of its meaning?"

"No," She said shortly. "I'm aware that it can't be normal."

"We teach non-verbal spells to our students, most are quite capable by the time they turn sixteen," there was something else to what he was saying, "But it's a difficult thing to accomplish being so young... how old are you, if I can ask?"

"Thirteen," She mumbled, and before she could stop herself she added, "I got scared! I tried to say it but I'd never seen it so... so real. I'm sorry-"

"What you did is nothing to be sorry, my dear girl," Dumbledore smiled, "your mind focused on the spell you needed and your wand did it for you. You might feel that it was completely unplanned, but I believe you're improving."

"You really think so?" She asked.

"I assume you read the books I gave you this summer," The man stopped in front of a Gargoyle statue, looked right at it and said, "Butterbeer."

The statue moved and revealed a set of stairs, Dumbledore signaled her to go through and she obeyed. Her thoughts were soon cut short when she came face to face with a large, wooden door. Dumbledore stepped forward and opened it, he turned to smile kindly at her and say, 'Come in' before closing the door behind both of them.

She remembered Harry describing a little how the office looked, he'd been sent there last year, when people thought he was the one causing the attacks on Muggleborns. The room was welcoming and warm, full of strange objects and books that she wanted to examine more carefully. However, she was there for a reason, and they needed to start right away.

She spotted Fawkes next to the desk and her heart jumped with happiness, she was quite fond of him. Fawkes flew swiftly across the room and landed on her shoulder, gently stroking her cheek with his head.

"I have taken the liberty to ask the staff what are their thoughts on your progress as a student," Dumbledore mentioned as he walked towards a closet. "Most of them think you're promising and have no complaints..."

"Most of them?" She raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Professor Snape, I think, holds his expectations high," Dumbledore smiled. "Do not take it as an insult, even him can be convinced of your abilities."

"Doubt it," She said under her breath, lovingly patting Fawkes.

"Please take a seat," Dumbledore pointed to the chair in front of his.

As she sat down, Fawkes went back to his place behind Dumbledore's chair.

"Tonight I want to work with your intuition," Dumbledore put two small boxes in front of her, "I think you know Professor Trelawney?"

"Yes," Mel tried to remain neutral. "I've assisted to her class."

"Very well. What I want you to do is something similar to what she asks, I want you to clear your head and feel- not think- feel, whatever these boxes may contain."

"I'm not a seer," She said quickly, having the bad feeling that she was about to fail her first lesson.

"It is not Divination," The old man soon calmed her, "it can be perceived as the same, but you won't use your mind for this bit, you'll be using your attraction to the power these boxes hold inside, and what kind of emotions you perceive."

"Oh," She frowned, unsure. "Okay, then."

"Take one of the boxes," Mel chose the one on the left, "and close your eyes, let the magic you own and the one in the box meet, take as much time as you need."

Now was not the time to let fear take the best of her, she was there to learn and she was going to learn. She took a deep breath, and sank in the loneliness of the dark behind her eyelids.

Mel knew that if she kept counting the seconds the stress would block the purpose, so she forgot about it. It could be two, three hours... she wasn't leaving that office without any results.

Then she felt it: a hard tug on her stomach and suddenly she recognized the energy, even if she hadn't seen, or heard it before. It seeped through her, blinding her for just a moment.

Light. Whatever it was inside that box was created to keep light and share it with its surroundings. She knew it, and so she told her great-uncle.

When she opened her eyes he was smiling at her.

"May I?" He pointed to the box, and she handed it over.

She blinked a few times, her eyes getting used to the illuminated room.

Dumbledore opened it and pulled out what looked like a lighter.

"This is a deluminator," He offered it back for her to hold, "it can take the sources of light from the room-"

As he explained this, Mel actioned it and suddenly they were sitting in the middle of a dark room, all the lights immediately flying to it.

"Oops," She said quietly.

She heard a low chuckle, and Dumbledore's hand gently reaching for the deluminator.

"However, it can also give it back," A soft click was heard, and the lights returned to their rightful place. "And in some cases, it can light one's path, clarify the way towards a big decision."

Mel nodded, then her hands reached the last box.

"Should I?"

Dumbledore's eyes shone in the candlelight, he had both hands in front of his face, as if he was pondering her answer, perhaps doubting her, though she didn't know why.

"Your fear..." Dumbledore replied, "you're allowed to not answer my next question if you don't wish to explain yourself... Has it always been death?"

Mel was taken by surprise, but she didn't think it was hard to answer.

"I don't think so," She played with the edge of her robes, "I don't remember having nightmares about it as a kid, not even about my dad... I think it started when, uh- well, after my first year here."

Dumbledore remained silent. Processing her answer, he nodded once.

"Harry and you have shared your own amount of adventures, and most of them had been nerve-wracking. I also know you want to protect your loved ones, you have that in common with your parents."

Mel waited for him to continue, his mind somewhere else.

"Ardent tempter, both of them. Emily wasn't patient with unkind behavior, even if she wasn't a saint herself during her school years. Matthew, on the other hand, picked his battles carefully– I believe he was pressured to do so, our family had its own fame, known for taking a few bad decisions from time to time... He tried to step away from it, to be perceived differently... I'm proud to say he succeeded."

"Sir?" Mel asked shyly. "Are you... Do you think I won't?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"Not at all, Mel. I believe you'll become something bigger than any of us ever could. Not a lot of people know this, but the women in our family have always been stronger than any men. Unfortunately, they're also more sensitive. Dumbledore women are bound to be the ones with big sacrifices in life, but also the ones with brighter minds and stronger wills. I believe that you've inherited their power, as much as their disposal to use it for others, or in the least, to protect others with it."

That was a massive piece of information.

"I think that your fear isn't death, but to fail on what you've decided to do, which is to protect your family and keep them safe. Believe me when I tell you, dear girl, that if you follow these lessons, you won't."

Finally, a clear answer to the question she feared most. She looked down at the untouched box and held it with determination. It took her less time than expected, only because she knew exactly what it was as soon as her magic and the one inside the box mixed together.

She hated it. Not the feeling, no. She loathed the object inside, and the hatred was mutual somehow- it filled her with anguish and a bitter taste in her tongue, its magic was dark, lethal.

"Riddle's diary," She stated, her hands shaking under the weight of its energy.

She put the box on the table, as far as she could from her body.

She recognized the feeling because she'd held the book once or twice last year. Of course, last year she wasn't paying much attention, but that night, with her radar all the way up like a radio finding the clearest station, it felt contaminating, blistering to the touch.

Dumbledore didn't bother to open the box. His expression, while serious, reflected triumph.

"That's all for today." He replied calmly.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@tiphareth2018​ @vampiregirl1797​ @siriuslysirius1107​ @celestialhayi​ @mikariell95​ @omiwashere​ @kylosleftbuttcheek​ @steve-thotgers​ @tomshollandz​ @reverse-hxlland​ @thesuitelifeofafangirl​

[death-himself]

Hidden in Shadows—Chapter 13

Summary: Thomas has a day off and his kids are at school, so why not spend some time baking with Virgil?

Word Count: 1,313 (I am so proud of this accident)

Warnings: Food (I think that’s it?)

previous next (AO3 Link)

Click, click, click. Virgil was lying on the ground of his cave, staring up at the small cube he held above his face. He had seen Logan fiddle with it while doing his homework all the time, saying that it helped him concentrate. Last night he had stayed at the Sanders’ house after the kids had fallen asleep, so he decided to borrow it and put it back where he found it before they woke up.

He turned the cube over in his hand, enjoying the small clicking the switch on one side made, before switching to the side with the buttons and enjoying the small, similar clicks they made. He didn’t know why it was so mesmerizing to him, but it was. And to think when he first saw Logan holding it he thought it was a bomb.

He glanced out his cave, cursing as he realized the sun had risen. He melted into the shadows, coming out at their house to find that everyone was already up and bustling around. 

Roman was screeching about how long Logan was taking in the bathroom while Logan screeched back about how it had only been five minutes, Patton had spilled cereal all over the floor, and Mr. Sanders looked dead inside as he somehow managed to pack their lunch boxes and clean up Patton’s mess at the same time. So, it was a normal Monday morning.

Virgil locked eyes with Mr. Sanders, who hesitated before nodding in the direction of the bathroom, silently asking Virgil to calm Roman down. Virgil obeyed, walking over to Roman and picking him up, carrying him over to the dining table and sitting him down. Roman whined in protest.

“Wait your turn, drama prince.” Roman grumbled nonsense in an almost mocking tone, grabbing the now half-empty box of cereal and pouring himself a bowl.

Half an hour later, the chaos was over, Mr. Sanders had driven the kids to school, and Virgil was left alone in the house. He stretched out on the couch, turning on the TV and fiddling with Logan’s cube a bit. Logan hadn’t noticed it was gone and he never took it to school, so Virgil guessed there would be no harm in it.

He had zoned out, not really hearing when the front door opened and closed, and not noticing when a shadow began looming over him. “Virgil?”

Virgil jumped, falling off the couch and turning around to glare and hiss at whoever dared to sneak up on him. Mr. Sanders had done almost the same, scrambling back into a wall, his heart pounding out of his chest. Virgil blinked out of his stupor, looking Mr. Sanders up and down, before slowly sitting back down on the couch.

Mr. Sanders cleared his throat, joining him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine.” The two turned their attention to the TV for a moment, both silently watching without really taking in what was playing.

“I don’t really have anything to do today. Joan forced me to take a break, so I kinda have to listen to them.” He thought for a moment, before turning to Virgil. “Is there anything you want to do?”

“You’re asking me for suggestions?”

“Yeah! Whenever I have a day off I usually ask my kids if they want to do anything first, and you’re the closest I’ve got to one of my kids right now.” Virgil blinked, unsure of whether he was happy that he was almost one of Mr. Sanders's kids, or upset that he wasn’t one.

“I don’t really have any ideas.” Mr. Sanders hummed, scrolling through his phone. As he came across a page he had bookmarked, his eyes brightened.

“Why don’t we make cookies? I found this three-ingredient recipe a while back and I wanted to see if it worked.”

“Yeah, alright.” Virgil had seen Mr. Sanders try to bake with Roman before. It usually ended in disaster, so he didn’t really have a good feeling about this. Nonetheless, he followed Mr. Sanders into the kitchen, his back hunched and his hands shoved into his pockets.

“We might as well double the recipe. Let’s see, ¾ times 2 is—”

“What do you mean times?”

“You know, like multiplication?”

“What’s a multiplication?” Mr. Sanders stared at him. Virgil grimaced and subconsciously curled tighter into himself, speaking through clenched teeth. “What?”

The father shook his head. “Sorry I just...forgot you wouldn’t have gone to school. Do you mind measuring out the peanut butter?”

Virgil huffed, doing as he was told. “I can read and write, that’s all I really need. It’s not like I can get a job or anything.” He mumbled to himself.

Thomas had understood before that Virgil was a fifteen year old. But he wasn’t sure if it had ever truly clicked that he was a fifteen year old. He was still a child who never went to school. Honestly it was a miracle that he even knew how to read and write, that was stuff that a parent would teach you.

Virgil had to learn on his own, without anyone there to help him. Thomas couldn’t help but be reminded of all the times he needed his parents’ help during his childhood.

Soon, the batter was mixed, the cookies were on a tray, and they were placed in the oven. They began to clean up, Thomas washing the bowl and measuring cups while Virgil dried. Thomas couldn’t help but glance up at Virgil every so often. Never before had he looked at this nine foot tall creature and had the thought of “that is a child that would still need a parental guardian if he were human” so prominent in his mind.

They waited out the last few minutes on the timer, Mr. Sanders and Virgil both sitting on the counter just a foot apart. Mr. Sanders had turned on a Youtube video and held it between the two of them in order for them both to watch. Virgil was admittedly surprised by that, but tried not to show it, instead focusing on the video.

Thomas admittedly felt bad for being unsettled by Virgil’s voice, as well as his laughter. Which was why Thomas had chosen one of the funniest videos he could think of in an attempt to get rid of that feeling. Was Virgil’s laugh truly unsettling? Yes, it very much was.

But Thomas could see that Virgil was enjoying the video, and that he was trying to cover up his small snickers and giggles as much as possible. And laughter showed that someone was happy, so what kind of good father to anyone would Thomas be if he was freaked out by the sound of a teenager’s joy?

The timer beeped, and Mr. Sanders took out the cookies, placing them on a cooling rack and waiting a bit for them to cool. Once they had cooled, he plucked one up and handed it to Virgil, grabbing another for himself. “Well, cheers!”

The cookies tasted alright. They weren’t the best. Considering they were the first Virgil had ever had, they were pretty good to him. Mr. Sanders dusted the crumbs off his hands, saying, “You can have two today since you helped make them, but after that only one a day, alright?”

“What?”

“Or you can have two if you’re having a bad day. Those are the cookie rules in this household.”

“Okay?” Mr. Sanders nodded affirmatively, reaching up as if trying to pat Virgil on the head, before resorting to patting his shoulder when he realized he couldn’t reach, then heading into the living room.

“You wanna watch a movie? I have a couple you might like.” Virgil bit back a smile as he followed Thomas in. He wasn’t really sure what was going on with Mr. Sanders today, but...he couldn’t lie and say he hated it.

[randomlerson75]

Stuff people at my high school have said or done

• “I’ll just pretend I broke my ankle. I’ll limp a little”

• “You’re face doesn’t even have many bones”

• “Do you wipe your ass with your fingers”

• “I look cute though so I’m saving it”

• “They’re not dirty minded they just have a sexy brain”

• “This is not a good situation now. I’m not happy”

• *sleeping in class and randomly screams* “STOP!!!”

• “I’m coloring my weed symbol”

• “I stretch pretty violently I’m sorry”

• “I look like I’m more full of life than you”

•”I’m a good person” “haha ok”

• “I’m gonna round it to the nearest 11”

• “You don’t always have to swallow”

• “What a fucking time to be alive”

• “why are you harissing me”

• “That’s why you turn around and punch him in the face”. “I don’t have time”

• “You are the highest grade”

• “Does it taste normal”. “No it tastes good”

• “Why are we all up in this cold ass blueberry”

• “The sun can’t be that hot”

• “I could have overreached but that would make me stupid”

• “I’m all muscle bro, it’s tight on me”

• ”I’m a stripper that’s how I make my money”

• “You’re my mom” *talking to the teacher*

• “Are you high” “just get it off”

• *laughs normally* “you sound like a pedophile”

• “Pinkie ring until I roll”

• *about to jump off a cliff in a video for free diving* “push her”

• “Capitalism is ok”

• “It’s so funny how you can be alive one second and dead the next”

• “Change the m in marijuana to a j. Jarijuana”

• *teacher puts desk in the hallway*

• “He smoked water”

• “You can’t speak Latin” “Can you?”

• “May I acquire a pencil” “yes you may” “have a blessed day”

• “I’m going to write a book about how depressed I am”

• “God has forsaken me”

• *girls trying to stab each other with scissors*

• “I got a pretty long weenus. It looks like a penis”

• “My skeleton is twerking”

• *draws a skeleton twerking* “this is why it’s fun to learn art”

• “Why does he have eye holes?” “He’s a skeleton”

• “Don’t get my businesses ”

• “YOU ARE A WHORE”

• “love is so good”

• “Happy 17th day of birth”

• “You know it’s cold when you walk outside and it’s cold

• “why are you smiling like a creep Jess?” “That’s my normal face”

• “I’m living my best life, right here right now”

• *About thirty kids doing nothing but snapping*

• “Yes, I am very racist about smart boards”

• “I used to be like ;) but now I’m like :|”

• “Physically I’m here but mentally I’m still at home”

• “Emotions are like hurricanes. They never go where they are suppose too”

• “it took me a whole 27 minutes”

• “I would pay for the fire alarm to go off again”

• “Why did we get such a gay name like Florence”

• “this is my dad” *points to Albert Einstein

• *A REAL debate on wether to rip the clippy part off of mechanical pencils*

• “Not gonna lie. I grinded a friends marathon this weekend”

• “FINISH THE TEA”

• “You should know to never mess with another persons tech deck”

• “She has a thing against white people even though she’s white”

• “Speak of the devil. All white, what a fright”

• “You are a children”

• “You think a bull in a china shop? How about a bomb in a restaurant”

• “Me do”

• “I cheesed myself”

• “I never said I was going to jump you at Bojangles”

• “Knitting is VERY fun”

• “I’m not good enough, I’m great enough”

• “North Korea, South Korea, Same thing”

• *drops pencil* “NOOOOOOOOO”

• *light flickers* “excuse you”

• “You can make Australia bigger?”

• “Why don’t we burn people at the stake anymore for doing crimes. It was proven very effective”

• “It’s like I went into the pits of hell”

• “Can I borrow her crutches” “She has a lot”

• “You have arms?”

• “I was born thick”

• “I wasn’t sick I was drunk”

• “be a good person. Go go go”

• “Lotion and ravioli”

• “It smells like weed in here”

• “F*ck oxygen”

• “bring it back tomorrow or you die”

• “Tables are for glasses, not asses”

• “Stick it in between her boobs”

• “A lot of religions end in ism” “Christianiaism”

• “I just want someone to snort my ashes. That would be cool. Mix it with a little cocaine”

• “The United States of Australia”

• “Clark Kent who. I’m kidding, that’s not even Spider-Man”

• “Mental cheese”

• “Your blood is not supposed to make whistling noises”

• “Who sleeps on a Friday night”

• “A whole ass race”

• “that’s a sexy button” “I know right”

• *Screams* “and....”

• “Judaism is neither a religion or race”

• “Have you ever met someone and thought ‘wow. I would feel no remorse killing you’”

•“I hate this school with a burning passion”

•“Beep beep in your seats”

•“What is wrong with the world? The simulation is breaking”

•“What if we’re each other’s dad”

•“You use mental gymnastics to get around your head and get what you want”

•”You can’t just roll up to North Korea. You have to beat me in bingo”

•*teachers wear a dress and played despacito on the trumpet*

• “He’s a stingy boi”

• “A for anarchy? Dude i wish”

• “shut up I’m choking”

• “The snack the smiles back” “GOLDFISH!!!”

• “Where’s the pointy boi?” “I don’t know. I have the thick boi”

• “Dude. Fish can’t talk”

• “Stop taking my eraser” “it’s a ruler” “it can be whatever it wants to be”

• “A female vacuum is attractive”

• “I can love you but not like you”

• “I am mother gothel mentally, physically and spiritually

• “Mother gothel is my religion”

• “IM GETTING A COW!!!!”

• “It’s like Leonardo Da’Vinchi but instead it’s Leonardo Decaprio”

• “I wish I had some crippling disease. Schizophrenia would be nice”

• “I’m gonna kill someone for the rush of adrenaline I’ll get. I’ll get pumped, then I’ll work out”

• “Should I become an important political figure”

• “My cats might have eaten him”

• “Who else is trying to overthrow the government”

• “Where’s our kid?” “He looked at me funny and I had to teach him a lesson. I flushed him down the toilet”

• “I text Jesus all the time”

• “You are a saucy boi”

• “Your neck is really soft. Do you know that?”

• “Um. No professor. I don’t give a fuck”

• “Bro I look like a whole ass beetle”

• “You know? I’m definitely going to hell. But I’ve accepted that”

• “We need to go to the woods and have a collective cry”

• “Moths = whore”

• “Can we watch more food videos”

• “Just outlive the old people and health care prices can go back to normal”

• “Let’s just start the gladiator games again to handle population”

• “I’ll be Michael Phelps”

• “Don’t you just hate it when Nolan steps on your 69 Barbie head”

• “He’s so 20”

• “LITTLE BOY! WHERE ARE YOUR NIPPLES”

• “You guys disgust me”

• “I thought I had a good nights sleep but then I stood up and was like ‘oh no’”

• “you look better as an apple”

• “Why the fuck does it smell like weed in here. Mrs. Burch be blazing it up”

• “What is the coast of South Carolina growing” “Fish”

• “Why are we here on Halloween but not on Thanksgiving”

• “Even though I’m 18 I still might go trick or treating”

• “All minors should be allowed to trick or treat”

• “Tomorrow is not today, is it?”

• “ah yes, the glorious uno and dos”

• “I think Kanye is a crackhead”

• “Like. She’s not hideous”

• “Casserole and Gatorade?”

• “That’s what Google’s for girly”

• “this class has corrupted me”

• “You stepped on my fat”

• “What would Jesus do?”

• *Squeaks kazoo in anguish*

• “We’re going to watch a video about the depression” “weird, nobody has been following me around with cameras”

• “Approximately 50 minutes till ice cream”

• “Did you know heroin is not good for you?”

• “I have the constant need to fight myself and my demons”

• “what the hell?” “I know”

• “you are crack-a-lakin me up”

• “I have no muscles so what’s the point”

• “Flex on the legless”

• “didn’t that movie come out in November? Fifty shades of green?”

• *County music blares from another class down the hall*

• “I got a twin brother” “What’s his name” “Pj”

• “Keep the iPhone in your ear”

• “Super white red lipstick”

• “They just need a lot more dollars”

• “Don’t be like Anthony” “Isn’t he your son”

• “There’s a lot that needs to happen in the next.... today”

• *Plays bagpipe music walking down the hallway*

• “Say sorry to Billie Eilish”

• “We should make army merch”

• “Some of us have bitch lips”

• “Time is moco loco”

• “Alfred Adler sounds like Adolf Hitler”

• “Albert Einstein is my favorite president” “YES”

• “It’s winter berries”

• “She just unfollowed your ass”

• “Do you ever get so mad you’re like rrrrr”

• “Bear Grills filtered that shit”

• “The US army is trying to recruit us with socks and bandannas”

• “This dude tastes bad”

• “I’m a sophisticated retard”

• “It’ll get your heart rate up” “I think asthma will make my heart rate go down”

• “She was like egh and the he was like EGH”

• *Door won’t open* “DISRESPECTFUL”

• “if she wasn’t my sister she would be my baby”

• “Will you let me make love to an Oreo”

• “Directions turn me on”

• “I’ll eat you” “Dude that’s gay”

• “you’ve been had a 69 in here”

• “I’m gonna be real with you. Hayden is a whole ass lesbian”

• “I’m sorry that picture is ugly. Sorry sis”

• “A whole jump suit with pikachu on it”

• “He’s been birthed”

• “Ru Paul’s drag race has been dragged”

• “Imma sip some chlorine”

• “why do you gotta throw up”

• “suicidal dog collar”

• “I’m pulling out Murphy’s head ass”

• “you’re gonna be single forever”

• “Do you trust me?” “No” “why” “you know why” “I told the truth after”

• “I didn’t mean to make her suicidal”

• “I did it in the most respectful way I possible could” “oh Jesus”

• “it’s not my fault she had that much of a connection”

• “she’s a sly bitch”

• *dresses in a Thomas the train hat and plays Thomas the train theme song on a piano*

• “I’m getting better at this” “what” “this”

• “It’s just my master plan to manipulate people’s emotions and have many successes in my future”

• “How do you do that” “I just empty my eyes”

• “You know what. Give me my birthday back”

• “Bitch bye. Not even cousins”

• “they go away. They don’t putt putt”

• “why” “so you don’t die in a police chase”

• “are you a virgin” “yes” *throws paper* “there’s my virginity for you”

• “I’m not stupid. I’m just not smart”

• *tries to hit someone with a decapitated mannequin head that has swim goggles on and fake blood coming out of its eyes*

• “you ignant”

• “I hope she chokes”

• “I had to sit at the edge of my chair, feet flat on the floor and hold my horn”

• “I don’t want to get my freaking hair done”

• “he hates my moms guts” “yeah no shit”

• “ok. Can you go cry over there”

• “Fuckin Jurassic world”

• “will you please beat up my mom”

• *drops phone purposefully* *immediately gets scared*

• “I want a new mom” “then break her”

• “did you just say what’s frog juice”

• *freshman walk by* “oh shit there’s a parade of them”

• “that five year old king is a queen”

• “Join the ranks”

• “Garrett’s carressing the computer” “cool”

• “You’re going into my dragons mouth”

• “Don’t snap my crab”

• “Crab breaking black belt”

• “are you milking the crab”

• “Cameron buttered my lemons”

• “Mixed with god”

• “What’s the juice”

• “I’m your bestie and you won’t even tell me the juice”

• “Let’s amazon.com this”

[ineedsomemoremetime]

Who is Tom Holland (Tom Holland Fanfic)

Author: @ineedsomemoremetime

Pairing: Tom Holland x Ella Green

Summary: Ella was living a normal life reading and writing all the time until she gets the opportunity of her life, that’s when things get crazy. She gets to meet a celebrity and write a biography about them.

Word Count: 2k

                                                         Chapter 1:

         When I was kid, I used to always say that by the time I was 19 I would be married and by 20, I would by having my first child. I would be working in a job that pays so well, that I have so much money I don’t know what to do with it. But I would also be working at a job I love, because I would be fulfilling my dream. But now that I’m 20 I realize I don’t want a kid nor do I want to be married this young. I also don’t have a job that makes me a lot of money. Actually it barely makes me enough to pay bills and hopefully eat something during the week.

I know I would probably be doing so much better if I went to college, but when you can’t afford it, and can’t even get a loan, it's pointless to go.

I’m not saying I hate my job, because it’s not bad, it really isn’t. I occasionally deal with amazing customers who make my day so enjoyable. But at the same time I also deal with customers who make me want to either chop my head off or theirs. I do the same thing day after day, which is typically okay. But, I’ve worked in retail since I was 16, this isn’t something I want to do for a living. What do I want to do? I got no clue.

“Ella, would you please bring me the put away rack?” Mia my manager asks. I stand back up from putting more bags out and almost run into Macie.

“You are so lucky I put the scissors back before I started walking this way.”

“Are you saying, you could of just stabbed me?” I ask shocked as I start heading to grab the put away rack for Mia.

“Would of been your own fault.” She replies while walking to the back room to grab some more boxes to start checking in.

Macie has worked her for about 2 years now, she's that coworker you really can’t stand but put up with them so there isn’t any drama. She was offered a management position about a year ago but she turned it down because she only wanted to work 10 to 15 hours a week instead of 40. Since she turned it down they had to go out and hire someone new, Diana. She was a manager for 2 months then she quit when she got another job. So, now we're stuck with Macie thinking she has the authority of a manager without working the hours and doing the job.

“What am I hearing about someone stabbing someone?” Mia asks when I bring her the rack.

Mia’s the head boss, but the way we can act with her, makes it seem like she's just a normal worker. I think that's a big reason I love working with her. She makes it easy to come to her, to ask for help, to make mistakes. Most head bosses these days are scary, I wouldn’t want to deal with them.

“Macie, accidentally almost stabbed me, if she wouldn’t of put the scissors down.” I tell her. ‘Accidentally’, I kinda fear that Macie would do it on purpose and just laugh afterwards. I mean she's not crazy, but with the things she says and does, makes me a little weary.

“Oh, damn. Be careful back there. I don’t want any death on my watch. “ She laughs. “Oh, do you want to go take your break?” I nod and turn around to go grab my purse.

“Excuse me, can I be let into a fitting room?” A customer asks right after I clock out.

“Of course.” I tell her and quickly unlock the door for her. As I go to turn around I hear my name. The voice sounded so familiar that it actually made me not want to turn around for a second.

“Ella Green. Honey, is that you?” I hear her say again. I turn around to see a face that I haven’t seen in almost 3 years. The face of the mother of the guy I fell in love with. The guy who broke my heart, who ruined my dreams. The mother of the guy who made me lie to everyone I care about.

“Nikki!”

“Oh my goodness. It’s been ages. How are you dear?” She asks while coming to give me a quick hug. Nikki always had the best hugs she always made you feel safe just by looking at her. When I left her son, I almost called her, because she would of known what to say, to make me feel better. But it’s her son, I didn’t want her to pick sides.

“I’m decent. How are you? The twins? Paddy? Dom? Tess?” I ask automatically missing them all, and thinking of all the great memories I had with them.

“I’m good. Everyone is good. Expect we all miss you. Especially Tess, she grew an attachment to you.” She made it hard to leave. Tess was honestly one of the best dogs I’ve ever met. When I first met her she automatically started loving me,they were all jealous at how fast I got her to like me.

“Aww, I miss her and all of you too. What you even doing here?” I ask moving her over towards the back counter to give us a little bit of privacy.

“Tom has an interview at a local high school today, so we decided to take a week off and explore the area, maybe get some cool pictures.”

There she goes, she said his name. I try not to think about him as an actual person. I see him more as whatever character he plays, because he is a very talented actor. I mean it’s not like I can just forget him, he plays one of my favorite Marvel characters Spider-Man. Plus my best friend loves him, and she talks about him all the time. I know she would probably cut it down if she actually knew what my history was with him but it’s something I promised to keep a secret, even though it means lying to my best friend and some family.

“Wow, at a local high school. I wonder which one. Oh, there's a park not too far from here that has a waterfall and during sunset and sunrise it looks so pretty, those might be good pictures.”

“Thank you, I will have to check that out. Actually why don’t you show me tonight. Come over for dinner, were staying the King’s Inn for the next couple of days. I know Tom would love to see you.” She invites.

“I would but, Tom and I didn’t really leave each other on the best terms. So seeing him wouldn’t be smart.”  

“Nonsense, he missed you. He doesn’t say it but you can tell. When some of us read your book, we were surprised at how different it was. We wish it would of been published.” The book, the reason I actually met Tom in the first place. To write a biography on a celebrity, and then Writers of America would help edit and then it would be published. When I went to them to help edit the book, they changed everything. They made it seem like Tom was this big asshole who honestly never cared about anyone. They made up fake things to make the story more interesting. I couldn’t let them publish that, I mean Tom and I may of left things bad but he wasn’t anything those people were calling him.  So I told them no, and they told me that I couldn’t get the scholarship then, and if anyone asked about me they would tell them that ‘I am a horrible student who doesn’t listen to anyone's rules.’ I think that's a big reason I didn’t even put it on my application.

“Why would you want it published, they were putting false lies about you guys in there. Why would you want lies published?”

“Ella,I know they had lies in the final product. In the beginning we didn’t though, actually in the beginning we were shocked. We thought we knew you better then that. I never would've believed that you would write such false things about us. But then I thought that kinda seemed odd, why would you want to lie.So  I called the company and they came clean that they are the ones who changed everything. They even sent us a copy of the unedited version of your book. The book we love, and wish was published. We all read it and realized that this is the version we knew you would write, not some made up crap that company threw together.”

They actually told her they lied, I can’t believe they would actually own up to their lies.

“Did, um. Did Tom read it as well?” I ask looking down at my feet.

“No, I didn’t.” I hear. Tom, he’s here. How can I look up and see that face. The face that I fell in love with. The face that told me to ‘Get the hell out of my life and to never come back.’. I look up to see him wearing a classic grey t-shirt with his dark tan leather jacket, and his dark blue skinny jeans. His hair was shorter, probably from reshoot from his new movie Chaos Walking.

All in all, he looked so good.

“No, Ella. I didn’t read it. I didn’t want to read anything you ever wrote again.” Harsh.

“Thomas, don’t be rude.” Nikki snapped.

“Sorry. I did meet your old teacher Mrs. Jackson, she had nothing but good things to talk about you Ella.” Tom comments. Wait, his interview was at my old high school. Wow, he tells me to stay out of his life but he can come in go in mine as he pleases. He went to my old high school, he seen my old teacher. He’s here at my job. So, maybe I should tell him to get the hell out of my life. Yeah, that would show him. Damn it, Ella. Stop it, you don’t want him out of your life, if you wanted him out of your life you wouldn’t watch his movies and interviews, nor continue to follow his instagram and twitter.

“Well, spoiler. You know where I went to school now.”

“I’m sorry, but are you Tom Holland?” Macie interrupts.

“I am, and you are?’ He answers. He was always so polite with everyone, it was a big reason I fell in love with him.

“I’m Macie. Ella, you never told me you knew Tom Holland.” She whispers to me while smacking me in the arm over and over again.

“I didn’t know you knew who he was.” I explain while trying to move away from her, because she smacks hard.

“Of course I know who he is. I don’t live under a rock, you idiot. What I want to know is how you know him, your a nobody. No offense.”  Hmm, I wonder why I didn’t like her. Maybe it's because she likes insulting people every chance she gets.

“ Actually, I don’t really know him. It was nice seeing you again Nikki. Now if you could excuse me.” I explained. Then started to head over to the cabinet to grab my purse.

“Ella, wait. Could I actually have a word with you?” Tom asks while moving away from Macie who was standing way to close to him for anyone's comfort.

“What, Tom. I really don’t have time for this.”

“Mrs. Jackson did tell me some things that happen once you came home. I wanted to talk to you about them.” He offers.

“If you wanted to talk to me about anything that happened in my life, you wouldn’t of told me to get out of your life and to never come back. So no Tom. I don’t want to talk about what happened, because it is none of your goddamn business.” I snap at him. How dare he, how dare he think that after all this time I would be up to talk about anything with him. He doesn’t get to know what happened once I left Atlanta. He doesn’t get to know anything about me anymore.

“Ella, please.” He begs.

“Why should I talk to you when you won’t even read what I actually wrote instead of believing what that dumb company said about you. Once you actually read that, then maybe I’ll consider talking to you.”

“Wait, you write?’ Macie asks. When did she get here, last I checked she was talking to Nikki about something.

“Not anymore.” I reply. “Goodbye Tom.” I then grab my purse and walk to the back room to take my break.

After 3 years, I never would of expected Tom to come here, to do an interview at my old high school. To try and actually talk to me. To have Nikki know the real truth, hell most of her family know the  real truth. If only Tom knew, that’s all I could want. Is for Tom to finally see the real and honest truth. That iI could never write those horrible lies about him, because I love him. And not publishing the book, what it did to me and my life. But maybe he’ll never know.

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New Post has been published on https://techcrunchapp.com/the-baby-sitters-club-recap-welcome-to-the-free-market-vulture/

The Baby-Sitters Club Recap: Welcome to the Free Market - Vulture

Photo: Liane Hentscher/Netflix/

As the show has been heavily hinting, there’s something up with Stacey McGill, and now that the new girl in Stoneybrook is our narrator, she fills us in: She was recently diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. It was the reason she left New York City in the first place. One day at school, she went into insulin shock and started seizing. The video of it was spread all over — by her best friend at the time, no less — so the McGills moved to Stoneybrook for a fresh start. Because of that scarring event, Stacey works extra hard to keep her diagnosis a secret from, well, everyone else.

Although the other girls can definitely tell something’s going on with Stacey — remember, Kristy caught her in a lie (okay, technically she caught her in a Porsche) — they are extremely preoccupied at the moment. Lacy Lewis and her Baby-Sitting Agency of high schoolers has infiltrated the BSC’s market and it is not good. Loyal clients are loyal no more, as older babysitters mean child care with later curfews and driving licenses. The girls are worried, but refuse to simply give up. If Lacy Lewis justifies stealing their idea and their clients by “free market” rules, they’re going to show her the free market.

Unfortunately, simply making kid kits (book readers, I clapped at the invention of the legendary kid kits) doesn’t help with client retention, and the Agency takes things up a notch by hiring the girls for fake jobs. Will Mary Anne ever recover from old man Carl yelling at her about his Depends? We’ll never know.

So Kristy gets peak Kristy and leans in hard to Sun Tzu’s The Art of War, calling the other girls in for the first ever Emergency Meeting of the Baby-Sitters Club. They all have their reasons for needing to fight to keep the BSC alive, but Stacey’s is the most heartwarming, even if she does keep it a secret: She needs the club because she can’t bear to lose her friends again. Stacey’s breaking my heart in this episode — just tell the girls!

Things take a turn: While the four girls are out, they come across one of their used-to-be-regulars, Jamie, playing in the street. When they get him inside, they find his new sitter, the one and only BSA President Lacy Lewis, hanging out on the couch with her idiot boyfriend who is probably the worst poet on the planet, no exaggeration. (Mary Anne: “That doesn’t rhyme, sir.”) Honestly, she — the high schooler who bullies 12-year-olds and steals their business model only to put out an inferior product — deserves that clown. I hope they are very happy together!!

Obviously, the BSC will not stand for this. Stacey immediately calls Jamie’s mother to tell her about the situation. Lacy tells Stacey that she’ll pay for what she’s done and honestly, could Lacy please get a life?

Instead, Lacy finds the video of Stacey in insulin shock and sends it out to a whole bunch of parents as evidence as to why you shouldn’t hire the Baby-Sitters Club. It could happen again! While she’s watching your kids! Pardon my language guys, but Lacy really sucks.

Thankfully, only good things come out of this video: First, it forces Stacey to confide in Claudia, Mary Anne, and Kristy, and immediately she realizes that she had nothing to fear. They’re obviously sorry for everything she’s dealing with, but they know people with diabetes. It’s not some shocking revelation. Plus, they would never make fun of her, they’re her friends, after all. It’s a very nice moment and yeah, okay, maybe it made me tear up a little. I am only human!

The next thing the video forces is another emergency meeting, this time with a gaggle of parents. I applaud the ambition of our BSC girls, but come on, at least one of these parents had to get a notice from their 12-year-old sometimes-babysitter calling for a meeting and be like, “Excuse me, I do not have the time for this.” At least from the looks of it, the girls provided a very nice app spread. Were you not the proudest watching Stacey stand in front of all those adults, explain her situation, and then offer to resign from the BSC if it meant keeping the other girls in business? These girls give me hope! Thankfully, it doesn’t come down to that because one of the parents, Dr. Johanssen (we met her and her wife at the Halloween dance) is an endocrinology specialist, spotted Stacey’s insulin pump the first time she watched her daughter and is, frankly, impressed with Stacey’s ability to manage her symptoms. Stacey is mature. Also, she’d never be a punk like Lacy. The BSC is back on top!

The whole mess does one other very positive thing: It helps Stacey get rid of the shame she feels surrounding her disease. She also confronts her mother about seemingly always wanting to hide Stacey’s diagnosis from other people. Mrs. McGill couldn’t be more sorry that she ever made Stacey feel ashamed of herself  — she simply wanted to protect her from ever getting hurt again. Of course she’s on board with Stacey bedazzling her insulin pump and wearing it loud and proud. Okay, fine, now the tears are really flowing. Lay off me, these girls are my role models.

• Here’s my truth about Stacey: Growing up, she was my favorite sitter. I had her doll. She was chic and cool and I was most definitely not those things. Like, when Mary Anne was blown away by Stacey referring to NYC as “the city”? I felt that.

• I still can’t decide who’s my favorite in this version of the BSC, but know that Claudia Kishi is for sure in the running, especially thanks to lines like this: “Why don’t they loiter at the mall like normal teenagers?”

• Obviously Mary Anne Spier is up there too, because when Kristy announces that they’re going to do the most responsible thing of all in regard to the Baby-Sitters Agency, Mary Anne responds: “Vacuum.” And guys, she isn’t wrong.

• Kristy has certainly not come around to her mother marrying Watson yet. When she sees Elizabeth sporting a huge engagement ring, she wastes no time in dragging her: “What’s next, are you going to start walking behind him all the time?” But Elizabeth, who gets her daughter, replies: “Of course. And it would make us more comfortable if you would refer to me as Ofwatson from now on.” Well, okay Elizabeth Thomas with The Handmaid’s Tale references.

• I’m ready to dig deeper into the life of Mary Anne Spier. At the end of the episode, as the other girls are sharing the stories their mothers told them about the day they were born, she’s visibly upset. Mary Anne is the most precious. Protect her at all costs.

• Oooooo Stacey loves Sam Thomas! Stacey is no match for her feelings when Sam, Kristy’s brother and a freshman at Stoneybrook High, saunters in strumming a guitar that he barely knows how to play and says things like, “That’s what your club is? I thought you just sat around and talked about babies, you know.”

• “Where have you been keeping him?” “High school.”

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[beanjuice-duh]

Piece of Cake

Warning: ...cussin and waste of food, also unedited(raw draft) a/n: oneshot drabble, jam fluff. Getting those writing juices flowin’ Summary: high school au/ hamilton w/c: 3733

“Why the hell are we here?” Alexander groaned, he ran a hand down his tired face. He started to think back at the series of events that led him here. Where was here? Sitting at a long table for two in a Home Economics class. There were various cooking tools, bowls, a sink and small two burner stove top oven...and there was his partner. The bile began to rise up his throat and threatened to force a gag out of him. He glanced over at the purple bomber jacket wearing, big haired, facial hair on fleek idiot beside him. His partner sported a face of immense disinterest, his eyes on his phone as he scrolled with his thumb.

“Because you’re a fucking idiot who got us kicked out of Creative Writing.” Thomas responded with a hiss, he didn’t look up while he spoke to Alexander, he didn’t want to look at the face of the guy who placed him in this bullshit elective.

Honestly that was not how he remembered it going down at all. What he remembered was signing up for the Creative Writing class with his friends Aaron and Gilbert. His best friend John Laurens wasn’t a fan of writing and took on Aquatics as his elective. Alexander was more of an academic, though he tried his hand in sports. He was fairly good at wrestling but found it hard to maintain the proper weight/height ratio to stay in his class. He decided to follow Aaron in a more relaxed subject, one he knew he was well versed at as well. As for Gilbert...well he was in it because Mr. Washington was teaching the class.

Alexander only expected the best of the best to be there, Angelica Schuyler's little sister Eliza was taking the class, as she did the year before. It was highly recommended after that. Alexander expected James Madison the kid who skipped two full grades to be there, he seemed to enjoy writing as well. What he didn’t expect was Thomas Jefferson to be there. Apparently he was some kid that moved away then moved back or some weird drama. He was popular when he left and even more so when rumors flooded in that he and Angelica were dating. 

Not. True. He wasn’t a fan of someone who just waltzed into school like that. Alexander wasn’t popular...he tried and he was popular among his close friends. Most people found him annoying, the kid who got in trouble and still managed to get the grades. Kid who never shut up and pissed off nearly everyone. It took a certain kind of person to put up with him. “Maybe if you didn’t start talking shit I wouldn’t have thrown my book at you.” Alex growled back, remembering clearly that in the middle of his discussion, Thomas had clearly leaned over to Madison. He looked right at Alex and laughed right at him.

Thomas rolled his eyes, still not giving Alex the benefit of meeting his eye contact. “Please, you don’t even know I was talking about you and even if I was, someone who talks as much shit as you should be able to take it.” The dislike was mutual. Thomas was not a fan of popularity in the sense of having people flock him. He liked being admired from afar. Little knew but he was quite awkward around too many people, often leaning on the moral support of his friends like Madison. Alexander threw him off balance. He was boisterous and impossible to ignore, more importantly he brought out an ugly side to Thomas that no one had seen before.

“I can take the shit talking!” Alex yelled, earning a hush from their new elective teacher. Of course, it was bold face lie. Alexander could deal out some of the rudest, wittiest insults but the moment it was directed back at him he flew off the handle. In his mind, he had to have the last word, the last say, the last insult no matter what. He was in the middle of a great discussion when Thomas interrupted him. Sure throwing his book across the room and taking out Madison instead of Thomas was a bad idea. It would have been well worth it if he had hit Thomas instead. “No one told you to return fire…”

“You fucking socked James in the face with your book and gave him a nosebleed.”

“I said I was sorry.” Alex crossed his arms.

“After you complained about how your shot would have been perfect if it wasn’t for his, and I quote, ‘bulbous air brained head’” Alexander smirked to himself, it was a good time to use his word of the day. “Now thanks to you, James is stuck in the nurse’s office and the only other elective I get is Home Ec, stuck with you.”

The fight didn’t go over well with George. Who, as much as he loved Alexander as a student and a person, wanted him to learn a little restraint even when it came to those he had trouble tolerating. Alex felt personally attacked. He was Washington’s favorite, he was the cool new kid that everyone befriended. Then the ‘legend’ Thomas Jefferson, rich, snobby, basketball player comes back and everyone is up in arms. Angelica and Lafayette were apparently his friends first, George missed him since he coached the team. Even Aaron Burr spoke highly of Thomas. It was sickening. “Whatever lets just get this over with.”

The bell rang and Mrs.Adams began instruction they were to make a dish  that reminded them of home. The deep sentimentality made Alexander’s stomach churn. He had been through various foster homes, hopscotched around so many times the past was just a blur. That was another internal lie, he purposely tried to keep his past in the past. He looked over at Thomas. He was from the South or something, he remembered hearing that stupid twang in his voice. He probably wanted to make fried chicken or something. They were suppose to work together, other groups already started brainstorming while Thomas started taking out pots from the cabinet.

“What are you doing?” Alex watched as Thomas silently began to maneuver around him.

“I’m going to make my comfort food.” He answered, “Be a doll, and get me some cheese from the fridge.”

“This suppose to be a team thing, we didn’t discuss what we’re making.” Alex ignored his instructions. Thomas rolled his eyes and went to get the items himself. Fine,if that was how he was going to play it. Alexander went to the back and grabbed a large, clear, cylindrical container of ground up coffee.

He returned just as Thomas was filling up a pot with sink water. “What are You doing?”

“I’m going to make my comfort food.” Alexander echoed in a mocking voice, it was hard to mock Thomas’s voice. It was low and rumbly but not at all gritty. It was...smooth and low, like dark chocola--

“We can’t make two different foods, we can only turn in one.” Thomas glared as Alexander popped the container open and started measuring out a few cups of ground coffee. “Coffee isn’t even a fucking food, you dunderhead.” 

“Doll, now Dunderhead, what are you fifty?” Thomas was old fashion, his tastes were dated and so was were his insults apparently. “Hm, then I guess whoever finishes first gets to turn in our assignment.” Alex mused watching Thomas’s dark eyes narrow at him. They shared a silent moment, which was rare, nothing but glares and shallow breathing before they broke away and furiously went to cooking. Racing to be the other.

Thomas turned and dumped all of the pasta in the water before it was boiling. Alex went and started practically throwing cups of flour into the bowl with his coffee. A puff of flour rose from his bowl and dusted itself onto Thomas’s jacket sleeve. “Fucking watch it slob.” He tore off his jacket and revealed intensely toned biceps and a tight tshirt that hugged his wide chest. Alexander clenched his jaw unable to repress the small wave of shock. Thomas felt eyes on him and looked down. Alexander was glaring a hole into Thomas ‘s arm. “Take a picture, it lasts longer” He purred.

The shorter student felt a rage. The same violent rage he felt when he heard Thomas laugh at him. That stupid, soft, bell like laugh that was warm and light, completely contradicting what Hamilton assumed his laugh would sound like. With no book to throw and no time to waste, Alex eyed the open bag of flour that was between him and Jefferson. In midmix he elbowed the back and watched it flop over all over Thomas’s side of the table. “Whoops.” Alex smiled, the flour trickled off the side of the table down to Thomas’s fancy oxfords.

His southern attitude shined as he sucked his teeth and rolled his tongue against the inside of his cheek. Thomas kicked off some of the excess flour from his feet and looked over at Alex. He waited until he was measuring cups of milk and just as he began to Thomas nudged his arm causing him to spill out of the bowl and onto himself. “Whoops~”

“You, fuckin’” Alex turned and was met by a flour covered hand smearing the white dust all over his face.

“Good look for you, Hamilton, ever considered wearing makeup to cover up those baby hairs on your chinny-chin-chin?” Thomas smirked, insulting the only thing that kept the strangely rosy, baby faced Hamilton from looking overly feminine. Thomas went back to stirring the pasta now that the water was now in a rolling boil. Hamilton angrily wiped his face, getting only some of the flour off his skin. He looked down at the batter he was making and smirked. “Thomas…” Alexander cooed, sickly sweet. Falsely sweet but it sent a strange sensation down Thomas’s spine. He turned his head cautiously and noticed Alexander was still covered in flour. Ha. He smirked but it started to fade when he tried to read Alex’s expression. It was soft, no smile, cheeks flared. He was slightly disarmed, long enough for Alex to lean forward. Thomas’s nervous and awkward tendencies started to shine as he backed up, slightly gawk like expression in his eyes. Hamilton, confident as always, got so close their chests bumped. And fast as a whip, Thomas’s well maintained facial hair was slapped by Alex. He felt a wet, goop on his face. “I think coffee cake batter is a good shade for you.”

Jefferson frantically shoved Alex aside, his bowl in his hand, as he hogged the sink. Alex lost control of his bowl and his batter went flying all over the floor. Thomas ran out water over his face. He made quick work of the cake mix before it made him break out.

A livid Alexander who’s “hard work” was now splattered on the ground walked over to the sink. He pressed his thumb against the faucet hole and the water pressure exploded as a stream of water aimed at Thomas’s wild, mane like hair. “You missed a spot”

Thomas shook his head, his curls now hung low heavy from being dampened. “So did you!” He grabbed Alexander by the collar and held him up a few inches off the ground. “BOYS” Mrs. Adams glared at them. “I hope you two have your dish done in the next thirteen minutes...or else you will both not only be failed, it will be a trip to Principal King’s office!”

They gulped in unison. Thomas didn’t want to visit the principal, his parents would skin him alive if he got in trouble and risked missing a game. Hamilton couldn’t risk hurting his college bound future with a failing grade… Slowly Thomas placed Alexander down and sighed. “Look lets just do something, anything…” 

“Well coffee cake is out of the question.” Alex sighed. Not like he was any good at making cake.

“Ew who puts coffee in a cake?” Thomas wrinkled his nose. “My mac and cheese idea is so much better.” “I forget my partner has the tastebuds of a child.” Alex only ever saw Thomas eat carbs and cheese. His palette was almost as stupid as Thomas’s love for the color purple. His tired eyes darted behind Thomas to the pot on the stove, it was foaming and overflowing behind him. “Yeah i don’t think your dish is going to work out either.”

“Shit!” The southern boy spun around and turned off the stove. The pasta was painfully over cooked, now they were both out of luck. “Crap...now what? We can’t cook something in eleven minutes can we?” He looked at Alex who was rubbing his finger under his chin. He looked deep in thought, pensive, those eyes framed by sleepless bags never really looked tired. They had a bad frame around them, in truth, Alexander’s eyes (in Thomas’s opinion) were wide awake. Intelligent browns that were hyper focused to any and all tasks at hand. Shame, those bags made him look lazy and lackluster. Thomas blushed a bit realizing he had been thinking about Alexander’s eyes. The moment of admiration was fleeting as Alexander turned and started pacing towards the pantry. “Hello? Earth to Hamilton do you have an idea or what?” Jefferson waited but got no response. He groaned and followed behind Alexander as he searched the dry ingredients shelf. “Hamilton, you being quiet is unnerving so speak we have 11 minutes to make something that doesn’t cause food poisoning.” 

“No bake Cheesecake.” He muttered. Thomas didn’t catch that, Hamilton turned around holding a box of graham crackers. “We’ll make a no bake cheesecake. I saw it once skimming on Facebook. It was one of those tasty videos.” “You watched a Tasty video?” “No, I skimmed it but I got the gist.” Alex pouted as Thomas facepalmed in front of him. “Look you have cream cheese, we have whipped cream and no time to actually bake anything, you want to fail fine but I’m going to do something about.” He marched off. He didn’t need Thomas’s help. He’d pull both of their asses out of this mess, he was not going to fail a class and ruin his chances in an Ivy league school. He started cleaning some space when suddenly a hand came out and stopped him. Their skins met and Alex felt a jolt so strong he made him flinch back. 

Thomas stared down at him, his cheeks slightly red “what can I do?”

How strange, Thomas was being helpful? Subservient? Alex could get use to that look on his face. The awkward, unsure shy look he wore, the blush, not to mention he looked pretty nice with his hair wet and hardly as fluffed up. He was hot when he wasn’t peacocking around. “Grind up the graham crackers, I’ll soften the cream cheese and melt the butter.”

Silence came over them, they worked...well together. Alex found it strange Thomas was silent...then again when Alexander wasn’t around him Thomas seem quiet. After all he was friends with James Madison the sickly and silent type. He didn’t think they had long conversations. They had knowing lookings and that...he envied. He didn’t know anyone that could figure out what was happening in his mind long enough to figure it out. Even his closest friend was lost when it came to what went through his mind. Hamilton watched as Thomas used a rolling pin to bound the crackers as fast and finely as possible. He was...strong. The table shook with his pounding, Alex watched that bicep flex and his heart sputtered like a failing car. It took him a moment to restart his mind, and slowly he went back to working the cream cheese with sugar, whipped cream making a thickened mix. 

Once Thomas was done he grabbed a cake tin and walked around Hamilton. “Watch your back.” He whispered in a low voice closer to Hamilton’s face. Alex’s ears started to burn with color and heat. Thomas reached over Alex’s shoulder, his large arm pressing up just a bit against Alex’s face, grabbing the container of melted butter. Without being told? Alex was impressed. He, absentmindedly, leaned into the arm and felt a sudden urge to close his eyes. “Uh…” Thomas slowly retracted his arm a bit and arched his eyebrow at Alex. “Alright then. You should look into sleeping.” 

“I don’t sleep.” It wasn’t by choice. Thomas chuckled, soft and not sarcastic, were they getting along? No but at least they weren’t biting each other’s heads of. “I’m sure turning off your mind is near impossible but you should at least try cutting down the caffeine.”

“Are you worried about me, Jefferson?” Alex turned his head and there was a silence. “No.” Hamilton rolled his eyes, “crust is done.” “Thanks.” Alex poured the mix in and popped it into the freezer for the rest of the time they had left. “Well now it's up to the fridge.” “I’ll start praying.” Thomas shook his head. “Oh yes, please pray to the Southern Cake God” A questionable believer like Hamilton could only scoff at him. “I don’t pray for miracles.”Thomas smirked, “I’m praying not to fail.”

Hamilton and Jefferson went back to awkward silence. How strange silence came when they couldn’t fight. As if they only knew how to speak to each other when it was meant to hurt. After a while Thomas spoke again, his eyes on his phone, scrolling. “I wasn’t laughing at you.” Alex had his head down, catching some rest as they waited as long as they could. “Excuse me?” “In Creative Writing, I wasn’t laughing at you.” Thomas had put together why Alex had his outburst. He couldn’t believe that Alexander was so sensitive when it came to his performance but it was the only logical conclusion. “I was showing a video to James.” “So why were you looking at me WHILE you laughed?” “Because I was also paying attention. Some of us can manage two things at once.” Thomas shook his head. “I listen to all your stupid discussions. Insightful or not.” Jefferson shrugged, keeping his eyes down on the screen of his phone. Alex blinked...a small smile formed on his lips. So he was heard. Thomas thought he was insightful? Thomas might have only meant at times but Hamilton knew he was always insightful. And Thomas Jefferson paid attention to him…

Mrs. Adams started making her rounds, Alex pulled the cheesecake out of the fridge and placed it on their table. “Well...mess and your little mishaps aside...this looks promising.” She took a slice and jotted down a grade. She placed a ‘B’ on their sheet with only the comment ‘Next time actually cook something’. “Not my usual, but I’ll take it.” Alex sighed in relief. He sliced a piece for himself and started to dig in. It was theirs after all. He chewed, knowing well he probably shouldn’t, when he felt eyes on him. Instantly he glared at the pair of judgmental black eyes...instead they were disarmingly curious. “Want some?” Thomas silently wrinkled his nose and Alexander could almost read his mind. “Stop being a baby, it's cheese, you like cheese. And it's cake, everyone loves cake.” He shook his head, Thomas pouted a little still silent and somewhat surprised Alex was reading him so easily. “Try it and stop acting like a child. It’s a B grade cake. It won’t kill you.” “It -- “ “It won’t.” He interjected not letting Jefferson finish. He took some on a spoon and started making train noises towards him. “Say ah, baby~” Both of them froze for a moment. Alex swore it was more insulting in his mind...He squeaked when Thomas’s large hand gripped his wrist tightly. He leaned in, keeping Alex’s hand steady and opened his mouth. His full, plush lips wrapped around the tip of the spoon and slowly slid off leaving nothing on it. He chewed, then nodded, licking his lips slowly. Thomas’s eyes were on Alex, while Alex watched Thomas’s slow tongue move around his lips. “Not bad, Alexander.” He nodded, “We make a decent team.” Working with Jefferson wasn’t so bad. Alex would say it was even…