#me: should I have included paper RSVPs after all....

[blujayonthewing]

[holding friends and family upside down by their ankles and shaking until wedding RSVPs fall out]

[hcneymilkks]

Month

A fake dating au but make it marriage. Two best friends scroll on social media and notice a trend where newlyweds send invites to famous celebrities to see what will happen? An appearance? A gift? Who knows. For the two best friends, as a joke, set up a fake wedding and request the most expensive gifts with the option of money. Sending invites to celebrities ranging from Kim Kardashian to even the Queen, they are surprised and shocked to realize that not only were gifts being delivered nearing the “big day” but a request to be part of the celebration causes the two friends to create a fake marriage in the smallest amount of time they have. 

University AU! Aged-up Haikyuu Characters!

Fashion Designer/Psychologist Oikawa

Humanities Y/N

Rain splattered on the window, causing little droplets here and there to roll down with no hesitation. The quiet hums of lo-fi music made its way around the little bedroom, with vigorous typing accompanying it. 

Backspace.

Enter. 

Click and delete. 

Brain throbbing, a sigh escaping from the lips.

It was no use, the longer the computer was stared at, the more your brain felt like mush.

“Damn him and using me to do his research analysis.”

Speak of the devil.

“Y/n!”

You stood up, turning around and crossing your arms with a glare. There he stood, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe with a sly smirk on his face.

Tooru Oikawa.

“How’s the report going? I hope to see it done by tomorrow?”

“Fuck you,” you strided over and pushed his arms, causing him to slightly lose balance. “Just tell me how you managed not getting kicked out yet. I swear you casted a spell on your professors or something. It's like you don’t do anything.”

He feigned hurt. “I do!” He whined. “Just not class related.” He pushed past you and flung yourself onto the bed, burying his face into your freshly washed sheets. “I’m designing a new clothing line inspired by the different volleyball team colours.”

“Is this your way at relieving the pain from not making it to nationals?” you snickered, remembering how pissed off he was after Ushijima told him he should have gone to Shiratorizawa.

“I-you little shit. This is why I never tell you things.”

“Shut up shittykawa you literally are making me do your research proposal. I know nothing about psychology!”

“I’m helping you learn a new subject! It’s time to look into your own brain and see what’s wrong with you!”

…

Three.

Two.

One.

“OIKAWA YOU LITTLE SHIT!” you flung yourself on top of him, garnering an oomph! sound. You smacked his back repeatedly. 

He let it have your way, already coming up with a counterattack. 

With stinging hands and shallow breaths after saying nothing but curses, you stopped and climbed off of him. Immediately, he’s on top of you. Pinning your wrists and getting dangerously closer to your neck. You couldn’t lie, he was attractive, but knowing him and his two-faced personality, you’d rather stay friends. 

But did you really want to?

A part of him knew you wanted him, but was that a risk you were willing to take?

Deep breaths. 

A low chuckle. “You love me y/n. I know you do, and I also know you’d do anything for me.” He smirked and pressed a kiss oh so close to your lips, getting up and dusting off his black shirt.

“I’m leaving! Remember, the paper has to be done by tomorrow!”

The door closed and for a moment you looked at your ceiling.

Eyes wide. 

Taking a pillow, you screamed into it.

“SHITTYKAWA!”

“Here you hoe, now for once in your life do your own work.”

You stomped into one of the many University studios, aiming the folder at Oikawa’s head much to his dismay.

“Thank you love you!”

You glared at him and waved a hand. “You definitely owe me like five bowls of ramen after what you put me through. I can’t believe you made me read so much on children’s brains and development.”

“I mean they said to choose something I liked, so children and volleyball worked together. Plus, if I actually had to conduct the research, my nephew’s volleyball club would have been perfect.” He finally turned around after pinning the teal fabric to the mannequin, striding towards you and ruffling your hair.

You mumbled incoherent curses as Oikawa picked up his sketchbook, writing down a quick note before closing it.

“Let’s go, I’m starving.”

The fragrant air of spices and creamy broth filled the little shop, making you drool. Grateful that Oikawa was rich, you took the opportunity to order almost everything on the menu.

“Y/n isn’t that-” you growled at him and he smirked.

“Feisty, you know I love that.” he winked and you gagged.

While waiting for the food, both of you were scrolling on Instagram. Having most of the same friends, it was no surprise that your timelines almost looked identical. Rolling his eyes, Oikawa saw a group photo of most of the volleyball players Hinata was pictured with, wanting nothing more than to squish the little one. 

But then something caught your eyes. 

You looked up at Oikawa who seemingly had the same expression, eyes wide, yet confused.

The dead groupchat came back to life with a link sent by Matsukawa, something about a bet.

matthewkawa 

Look at this lol

Sent a link

[Youtube storytime: The Time I Invited Drake to My Wedding (Spoiler Alert: He Came!)]

hannamaki

Wait why would someone invite a celebrity? Aren’t they hard to ask?

nishinoyya

Wait that’s cool! Asahi-san can we invite Jason Derulo to our wedding?

acai

Wait...what? What wedding?

y/n

Waittt i’ve seen that video

Apparently as a joke the person sent lots of invites to different celebrities. Most of them gave gifts or money but I guess Drake went

iwachew

LOOL IMAGINE Y/N AND CRAPPYKAWA DOING THAT

yoyoinata

I can see that woah!

milkyama

Psh! Flattykawa and y/n. I can’t see it. y/n deserves better lol

fabkawa

OI TAKE THAT BACK STUPID

y/n

Oi don’t talk back to my child like that shittykawa

fabkawa

Shut up y/n and eat your ramen

You glared at him before saying thank you to the waiter. Both minds now occupied with the creamy ramen and soft boiled egg. 

Flipping a page, you smiled. There it was, the fake couple who both fell for each other, breaking so many rules. But who couldn’t resist?

Oikawa scrolled on the computer, typing and clicking. He swiveled around in his seat and went over to you, peering over your shoulder.

You smacked his arm. “Personal space excuse me!” He put his arm up in defence, smirking.

“Remember the post Matsukawa sent?

“Yeah. So what?”

“I made the wedding on May 14th and invited some celebrities. Who did you want to send an invite to?”

You dropped the book. “Say what?”

Oikawa dragged you from his bed and sat you down on his uncomfy chair. Indeed, the computer screen showed a cheesy website where people rsvp to weddings. Already half of the groupchat accepted and you know this had to be a joke.

“Oikawa are you dumb? Who are you marrying? Wait no, who would want to marry you?” you looked at him and he pouted.

“Iwa-chan said no, Mad Dog scares me, Ushijima is definitely a no, so you’re left.”

“Who said I would do it?”

“I invited Stray Kids.”

Are you kidding me?

“This isn’t real, we’re not gonna really get married right? I mean if we were technically speaking, the wedding is less than a month away and we don’t have money, a reception place or any other sappy wedding shit.” You looked at the list and sure enough, Stray Kids was there.

“No y/n nothing is going to happen trust me. Plus, who doesn’t like free gifts? I tried to ask for expensive gifts and money because someone’s wardrobe and apartment looks ugly as hell.”

“You better not be talking about me bitch. I’m gonna set that sketchbook on fire.”

Oikawa chuckled. “Add some more people on the list, I wanna see how far this can get.”

“I never said I agreed to it,” you mumbled but nonetheless added in a few of your favourite celebrities, including the queen. 

After all, if this worked, free money. What’s the harm in that?”

A lot went wrong after that.

It was three am a week after the planning and your phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Grumbling, you answered the call without looking at the number…..which was a stupid mistake.

“Y/N! HOW DO I CANCEL THE WEDDING?!”

“Relax Papi you said nothing would happen? Free money right?” you yawned not even realizing what you said.

Oikawa sputtered on the other line, shaking his head and ignoring how you called him Papi for some reason. “Yeah but uh...we have a little problem.” 

“Hm…”

“Jason Derulo accepted the invite ...and he can’t wait to see the ceremony.”

From that moment, you were fully awake. “WHAT?!!”

“What do you mean you can’t cancel the wedding?” you rubbed at your temples, losing more brain cells by the minute.

"Okay so apparently my last name is common around celebrities, seeing as my father owns different restaurants. So it’s not a surprise to them that they wouldn’t attend the wedding.’

“Fuck.” you breathed out. How did the both of you not realize this?

“Okay so um..what now?”

Oikawa ruffled his air. “We go through with it.”

"Fuck no.” 

“What why?”

You’re the one who thought of this crazy idea! It’s all your fault!” 

“But you’re the one who put Jason Derulo in there!”’

You smacked your forehead. “It was a joke and for free money! Look what you got us into.”

Yells back and forth, each blaming the other. It was like the night wasn’t going to end soon. Tired from the arguing, you smacked Oikawa’s chest. “Stupid,” you mumbled. “I don’t want to do this!”

Oikawa scratched the back of his neck. “But what if I want to?” You looked up at him confused. “You know, like how Hinata and Tobio fake dated but then became boyfriends.”

“Oikawa, that’s different. That’s dating, this is marriage. It’s adult stuff, I can barely cook!”

“I’ll cook for you.”

You walked away from him, going towards his balcony. The view was beautiful, seeing various stars and the lights shining from Tokyo. “This is too much for me to handle. You're a pain, you know that?”

He wrapped his arms around you and instinctively you snuggled closer to his chest, facing the view so he wouldn’t see your red cheeks.

"Remember when we were children? And we had a whole promise that we would be with each other forever?” you laughed. The classic child marriage pact. It was as if almost all friendships started with that promise. A promise to love and stay with each other no matter what.

“That’s child play.”

He started to rub circles with his thumbs on your arms, you feeling relaxed. “One month. Give me one month after the wedding. We’ll go on a honeymoon to London, I'll teach you how to cook, you can live with me, we can adopt a puppy.” Oikawa gulped and looked at you. “And if you don’t like it, we can pretend none of this happened. In fact i’ll stop bothering you with my assignments and my presence.”

One month. That sounded like a challenge. A challenge that Oikawa was willing to risk everything for. A month to make you fall for him.

“...so we’re splitting the gifts and money equally then, right?”

A/N: I’m back! This has been in my drafts for months. At first it was supposed to be Yuto from Pentagon but after getting into Haikyuu I was like fuck it and changed it to Oikawa. Also because yes LMAO. I hope you all liked it and let me know your comments! Part two will be in the works if people want it, for now its a oneshot aha. 

Much love!

tags: @babyworld , @bakuhoes-dumbass

[missdawnandherdusk]

My Type

(Hufflepuff!*)Reader X Draco

Fourth Year

There was a time when I was alone

Nowhere to go and no place to call home

My only friend was the man in the moon

And even sometimes he would go away, too

Summary: (Original request form @darcypottah​) The events of the summer between fourth and fifth year unfold and you find yourself at Malfoy Manor more than you expected. 

A/n: Okay, so I might have said that these summer ones would be shorted, but that was before I started writing it... so yeah it’s like 10k words. But every one of them is so cute and ugh, I’m in love you guys. It’s got fluff, it’s got angst, it’s got magic, what more could you want? Let me know what you think!! Also see the end note for some thoughts from me and my posting schedule!! Love y’all so much 

“Malfoy?” My mother asked. “You want to go to Malfoy Manor?” She was trying very hard not to yell at me and I could tell as I bit my lip and looked down.

“Draco invited me,” I argued weakly. “He... um.”

“He what? He’s tormented you for three years Y/n. And now you want to go to the lion’s den?” Her voice was raising as the invitation in her hand fluttered about with her spastic movements.

“It’s not like that mother,” I insisted. “He’s... you wouldn’t understand,” I shook my head, wrapping my arms around myself defensively. “No one understands.”

My mother took a deep breath and set the parchment on the mantle, facing the fire, her back to me.

“Your father would understand,” She whispered softly. “He always saw the best in people...”

My eyes dropped to the floor as my stomach sank because we were thinking the same thing: it was his trust in people that had led to his death in the first war, and now my mother thought it was happening again. After what happened with... Cedric and the rumors about...she was frantic about protecting me.

“Mother, please. Draco asked me to come. He sent an invitation,”

I looked to the fancy paper marked with the Malfoy seal: an invitation to a Summer Solstice Ball at the manor. I took a deep breath.

“He’s alone, mother. You have to see that,”

It killed me that she had kept me here all summer because of the news of what occurred during the Triwizard Tournament. My thoughts often lingered to Draco as I wrote to Abby explaining why I couldn’t come over to see her, as was the usual of my summers. I didn’t write to him, explaining, and though I wanted to... I found myself staring at a blank page with too many words and not enough to say.

“Very well, you may go,” She finally sighed out. “But Abby will be your plus one,”

My heart soared as I thanked her, hugging her and taking the invitation, rushing to my room to write to Abby and to tell Draco I was coming after all.

Abby was ecstatic about the invite and teased me about liking Draco still, but again, I insisted that we were friends, and that was all. It was a friendly thing to do, invite me to the Ball, and it was friendly when I responded:

~

Draco,

I’ll be there, I promise. Mother’s making me bring Abby—not that I don’t want her to come as my plus one, but it is first and foremost my mother’s wishes. I can’t wait to see you.

Your Hufflepuff,

Y/n

P.S. Yes, I’ve sent the invitation back with the proper RSVP. It’s included with this letter.

~

It was two weeks before the party, I could wait two weeks. Right?

_______________________

“What is that?” His father demanded, coming up behind him.

Draco flinched and quickly hid your letter behind the invitation.

“Another has RSVP’d to the ball, from school,” Draco responded coolly, counting the seconds until his father responded in tense anticipation.

“I see,” His father’s eyes narrowed. “Very well. Your mother and I are going out for the evening. We shall be back in the morning.”

“Yes father,” Draco sighed.

All summer, since the Dark Lord had returned, his parents had been going to meetings non-stop, leaving him alone at the manor. In the quiet of the house, away from the house-elves, he had read through your book about three times, pouring into the pages, finding comfort in knowing that the book was all that he had to know that you were real and not a figment of his imagination.

Behind the locked door of his room, he took your letter out and smiled. Though he was bitter that you hadn’t come, or written to him all summer, it all went away when he saw the letter upon the dining table.

Taking out his own parchment, he stared at it, wanting to write you back, but having no idea what to say, or how to respond that would make sense and not make him look like he was holding onto your every word—because he wasn’t. He was just fine. And you were just a friend.

A week remained until the ball, and his parents were barely at the manor despite the fact. The house elves were cleaning religiously each day, so he spent his days outside, under a tree, reading your book.

________________________________

Abby arrived two days before the party, and after the initial excitement of seeing each other, we had time to fawn over our dresses and laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

“Is there a reason your dress is green,” Abby drawled. “To match a certain Slytherin we know?”

“No,” I refuted, growing red. “It was my mother’s. I’ve made adjustments of course, but it has nothing to do with Draco,” I defended.

“Who said I meant Draco?” Abby grinned.

I gave her a pointed look and rolled my eyes, failing to hold back a smile.

“I can’t believe you got invited to a Malfoy party,” Abby sighed wistfully as we lay awake, the stars coming out to play.

“It’s not that big a deal,” I laid on my back, staring at the swirling stars that lingered on my ceiling. “And, I did say I would come visit him over the summer,”

“You miss him,” It wasn’t a question, it was a melancholy statement.

“Somedays, yes.” I confessed, taking a breath in. “It’s harder at night... after you know...”

“What did happen between you two on that day? At the tournament? There was something that you knew, that really freaked you out. I know you Y/n, you rarely get that bad for Pomfrey to give you all three,” Abby sat up, looking over at me.

“I know, and... what Dumbledore said... about... you know... and my dad... and Cedric... It was too much that night, it still is most nights,” I sat up and hugged my knees. “And he was right there. He was as scared as I was... and he still... stayed.”

“I know I tease you about it a lot, but you know it is okay to like him, right?” Abby looked over at me, a soft look on her face.

“I know,” A smile touched my lips. “But I don’t know if either of us is ready for anything more than what we have now.”

That thought stopped me from writing to him constantly or doing something Slytherin worthy to go and see him. We needed to figure out what we needed, and right now, a friend was that.

The night of the Ball, Abby and I spent hours getting ready in my room, music playing for hype. It was great fun, preparing for the unknown with Abby. It calmed my nerves about seeing Draco for the first time in about a month.

“See, you should have gone to the Yule Ball with us,” She pointed out, setting an embellished headband in my hair, her options now much smaller that I had cut it, not that I was complaining. It was the easiest getting ready I ever had.

“Like I would have made it through that night,” I scoffed.

“What makes this one different?” The challenge caught me in my tracks, and I knew the answer deep down, but I was in denial about it: I had said yes to Draco this time.

The Malfoy Manor held up to its expectations as Abby and I arrived, greeted by a house-elf that asked for our names. After giving them and being escorted inside, our coats ushered off, I paused, taken aback by the glittering scene before me. It was like I had stepped into one of my books and it was a proper royal ball. My eyes scanned the sea of people, looking for silvery blond hair that I knew to be Draco, but I couldn’t see him in the crowd.

Abby took my arm and we headed into the throng of people, and I tried to ignore the stares that lingered on the two of us. I recognized several people from the Ministry, and professors from school, and of other places that were highbrow. Many greetings were exchanged, and I was becoming slightly overwhelmed, making my way to the outskirts of the noise.

“Miss Y/l/n,” The icy tone tipped me off that I was being called by a Malfoy.

“Mr. Malfoy,” I smiled politely, dipping in a slight bow. “May I congratulate you on your party,” My compliment was light and airy, opposed to the deep dark look Lucius Malfoy was giving me.

“Yes,” The word held disappointment and a thousand meanings. “You look so much like your mother,” His eyes all but stripped me. My hands clenched as I took a sharp breath in. “I believe she wore that before you,”

“Yes,” I responded blithely.

“It suits you as it did her, a fine Slytherin at Hogwarts,” There was a challenge in his eyes, as if he were trying to find what would make me come undone.

“She was,” I smiled, thinking of her and the comfort the thought gave.

“I heard that you are Hufflepuff, like your father then?” His eyes narrowed, disgust in his voice.

“Yes sir,”

“A shame he died in the war,” Lucius gave off hand. “Must have been difficult to grow up without a father,” There was no pity or sentiment in his voice.

I grit my teeth, pursing my lips together.

“He died for something he believed in,” I whispered. “It was the greatest example he could have set for me,” There was a fire in my eyes as I looked into a cold stare.

Lucius opened his mouth to say something, but I felt a hand at the small of my back and from my peripheral vision I could see blond hair and a cold look.

“Father, I see you’ve met Y/n, she attends Hogwarts with me,” His voice dripped acid as he took a small step in front of me.

“Yes, she is quite charming,” It was a lie. “If you’ll excuse me. And Draco, do not forget, you owe your mother a dance,”

As soon as his father was out of sight, I all but sagged in relief, turning to Draco. There was a small smile on his lips, and I greeted it with one of my own.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“You’re okay?” There was concern in his voice.

I nodded and looked back to the way Lucius had left. I took a deep breath and let his comments slide off of my shoulders. I wouldn’t let him ruin my night.

“You... um... look lovely,” Draco stammered as we stood there, quite awkwardly.

“Thank you,” my cheeks flushed a slight pink like his. “You’re rather handsome yourself.” He was in a well-tailored suit with a green tie that held the same hue as my dress.

“Thank you,” A smile caught his lips as his cheeks reddened.

“So, this is a Ball,” I mused, looking out onto the happy party goers. “It’s very warm,”

“Depends on the company you keep,” His voice got colder for the moment, no doubt his thoughts directing towards his father.

“Well, I hope I’m good company,” I baited, grinning at him. 

“You’ll do,” He grinned back, offering his arm.

I took it, walking along the halls surrounding the party, all lit with hundreds of fairy lights. A few hellos and introductions were made as we walked along. Seeing Snape outside of the school halls was a bizarre experience.

“Why didn’t you write sooner?” The question was soft as Draco and I found another moment alone.

“I’m really sorry about that. My mother was being overly protective,” I muttered as we walked among the outskirts of the party. “I did want to,” I clarified.

“It’s been so dull here. My parents are always out...”

“And they just leave you here?” I was slightly appalled. “You could have written me, we could have figured something out,”

“You said your mother was being overly protective,” he pointed out. “Besides, it’s fine. It’s done now,”

“I’m sorry Draco, if I had known,”

“Well, you’re here now, aren’t you?” He gave a hesitant smile. “A few others from school are here as well, I believe Abby already found them.” He changed the subject quickly and put up a front I knew all too well.

“I’m sure she did. She has a knack for that,” My tone became somber as I found the same mask he did and donned it.

He led me to a sitting room off the main foyer where a group of students from Hogwarts chatted and lounged. Most of them I recognized from Slytherin but there were a few others from different Houses.

“Y/n!” Abby called. “I was wondering where you went, you just vanished,” she scolded in a soft voice not to raise attention.

“I’m sorry, I don’t like large crowds, you know that,” My voice dropped to a mutter, while I fidgeted with the lace on my dress.

“I guess it’s a good thing I brought her back then?” Draco smirked, joining our conversation and bringing Pansy with him.

“Oh, like you didn’t go looking for her,” Pansy baited. “Merlin, you two,” She muttered under her breath

I felt my cheeks blush as Abby handed me a glass of what I hoped was not alcoholic. A gentle sip and I knew it wasn’t. I didn’t prefer the carbonated drink however, so I held it politely with no intention of drinking more.

“Is it better in here?” Draco’s voice was low and soft, I barely heard him.

I gave a small inconspicuous nod and a smile.

“Let me know if you need a break,” he whispered and then went to talk with Crabbe and Goyle.

My face warmed up again as I leaned against the wall, talking with Abby and Pansy about the party and the people and what we had done over the summer thus far. It was great fun, and a warm atmosphere but I found myself slipping into a sort of panic, as too many questions were asked, and the noise rose. My fingers thrummed against the glass as I got more fidgety.

“Excuse me,” I whispered, setting my glass down.

“Do you need me to come with you?” Abby asked concerned.

“No, I just need some air... I’ll... yeah,” I swept out of the room without another word and found myself hopelessly lost in the large house.

“There you are,” Draco’s annoyed voice came from behind me. “Seriously, Y/n you can’t just roam around here alone.” He hissed; fear hidden in his eyes letting me know that it was dangerous to be alone tonight.

“I’m sorry,” my gaze dropped. “I...” sighing, I shrugged.

“If you don’t like crowds and lights and noise, why did you come?” He asked, his tone softer as he led me in a better direction, it still stung though.

“I don’t know,” I confessed softly. “I thought I’d give it a try... and I... I missed you.”

“You missed me?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes as if he couldn’t believe it. “Am I not allowed to miss you?” I demanded, watching disbelief flit across his face.

“I guess,” he led me down a long hall, and to a smaller foyer that had a door leading outside.

Guiding me through the door, he took my hand in the moonlight and led me with practice down a path to a small garden of roses. I took great care in walking, not trusting myself completely in the heels I wore. The lights around us began to illuminate, and fairy lights twinkled all around, lighting the rose garden and the two of us.

“Is this quiet enough?” His demeanor had changed, his voice now colored with concern again.

I nodded and sat upon a bench, taking a deep breath, toying with my dress again. He sat beside me, as the same awkwardness from the Tournament and earlier hovered over us. Like whatever walls we had between us were gone, and it was just him and I out here; not Houses or expectations or our pasts. It was nerve wracking. Instead of focusing on that, I watched the stars swirl in the night sky above us.

“Lovely view,” I commented softly.

“Too bad it’s just us out here,” He sighed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, curiosity stretching a smile on my face as I stole a glance.

“Well, isn’t it a bit... I don’t know,” He took a sharp breath in and shrugged. “Romantic?”

I let out a soft laugh, hope fluttering in my chest, in vain of course, but it was there all the same. A blush rose to my cheeks as I focused on anything that wasn’t him.

“Maybe,” I murmured.

“Some other couple would love this,” He gestured softly, and I rolled my eyes, finally giving in and looking at him.

“And why can’t we enjoy it?” I challenged. “Shame to waste a lovely night,”

He gave me a flat look and stood.

“You can’t be serious,” Draco scoffed and faced away from me. “You’re not my type.”

A laugh bubbled through my lips as I stood.

“Really?” I dared. “And who is? Pansy maybe?” I took the few steps that laid between us, so that we were side by side again, gazing over the night sky.

He shrugged and didn’t say anything.

“I think I’ll be the one to make that call though,” I decided. “Of course, I’d never fall for you,” I scoffed at the mere thought and rolled my eyes, seeing if he would play my game.

“And what makes you think you get to make that decision? Are you going to make it for me?” His eyes found mine, his eyebrows raised.

“Of course not,” I narrowed my eyes at him, “But, you’re right, this would be nice for some girl who feels the chance that there’s some sort of romance but,” I shrugged teasingly. “I’m feeling nothing,” A smirk played at my lips.

He paused a moment, and I could see the gears working in his head. Would he play the game, or would he call me out on it? What call would he make?

“Is that right?” He was playing. Game on.

“Could be less than nothing,” I pressed further, turning from him, facing the rest of the manor and the rolling hills that were bathed in moonlight.

“Good to know,” He came up behind me, placing his hands at my waist. “What a waste of a lovely night then,”

______________________________

A million thoughts were swirling around Draco’s head. He had caught your game after a few comments that couldn’t be anything but teasing from your lips. He knew you too well. So, he’d play along.

You denied it, and so did he. What it was, however, was another matter. You didn’t seem to take his negating words to heart though and maybe he didn’t either.

If he would share this night with anyone, he would want it to be you. He didn’t feel this... different about anyone else. You mentioned Pansy, but he couldn’t imagine her out here with him like you were. There was something different about how you treated him that made him want it to be you.

With you so close to him, relaxing in his arms like you did the night you two accidentally ended up in the same bed, he felt the similar peace that you held about yourself.

“Draco,” His mother’s voice called softly from behind him. “I thought I’d find you out here,” Draco turned, and so did you, a blush creeping across your face.

“Mrs. Malfoy,” You greeted softly. “My apologies for keep Draco away. I’m afraid I’m not one for large crowds,”

You held such decorum that he was honestly impressed. The way you spoke respectfully and with dignity was a sight to behold. It was almost devious in the way that you did it.

“Think nothing of it my dear,” Oh, his mother liked you, he could tell from the use of the pet name. “But your father is looking for you,” Her eyes met his, but all he could notice was how your face dropped.

“Of course,” He answered coldly. “Come Y/n,” He urged softly, leading you inside.

You followed wordlessly, lost in thought again by the look you held on your face. He was so preoccupied with thinking about what you were thinking, he had missed what his father said to him.

“Draco,” His father scolded sharply. “You are not to be skirting around alone with her. You have a reputation and people to impress tonight. Now, bid her a goodnight and find your mother to offer her a dance,”

How could his father still sap any joy from him with a few words?

“Goodnight Draco,” Your voice was somber as your eyes didn’t leave the floor, “Excuse me,”

Before he could get a word in, you pushed past him, down the hall toward the sitting room that held the rest of his friends, leaving him alone with his father.

“Father,” Draco snapped. “That was uncalled for,” His glare matched his father’s. 

“Excuse me?”

“Y/n is a friend,” Draco stressed. “And I won’t let you treat her that way,”

Following your lead, he left before his father could get a word in, knowing that there would be hell to pay for what he was doing, but he couldn’t get the image of how broken you looked out of his mind as he raced off to find you.

And he did find you. With Abby by your side, you looked as if you were about to cry. Clenching his fists and pressing back the rising anger against his father, he made his way to you quickly.

“What are you doing?” You asked hoarsely. “You need to go socialize, impress people,” It wasn’t malicious, but he still took a hit from your words.

“I’ll just... leave you guys to it,” Abby muttered, quickly making her way out of the room.

You attention turned back to him as you awaited an answer, and honestly, he did too. He had no idea why he chased after you instead of doing what he was bred to do. He should have had no problem going out into the mass of people and charming them into liking him. But their opinions didn’t matter to him. Yours did.

“Come with me,” He blurted out. “Come... out there, with me. Socialize, and...” he trailed off knowing he was crazy and stupid for asking.

“Draco, that’s... I can’t.” Your voice was hopeless. “I can’t do large crowds and people...”

“I know,” He cut you off. “But you’ll be with me, that... that always seems to help you,” It was a long shot that his observation was correct, but he was desperate on making this work at the moment.

And to his surprise, you nodded and agreed to go with him. He led you to the main room, and though you spoke softly and rarely, he could tell that people were enamored with you, wondering who you were and why you would be on his arm. You’d absentmindedly tug on his sleeve when you became overwhelmed and he’d take you to a quiet spot for a moment and let you gather yourself again before meeting someone else.

He only left you when his mother finally found him for the dance that was promised and as the night closed, he couldn’t find you again.

___________________________________

As soon as Draco let go of my arm, I felt panic slip over me as I was alone. Abby was by my side before I could blink as she grabbed my hand and led me to the coat room then outside for fresh air.

“You okay?” She asked, animate.

I nodded and pulled my cloak around myself tightly.

“Let’s get home then,” She encouraged, and we used the portkey as before and were standing outside of my front door.

Inside, I sank onto the couch, ignoring my mother’s questions as tears started to fall softly. All of my emotions came crashing down all at once and it was too much. Abby explained it all to my mother, who understood and quietly took me upstairs and helped me out of my dress and makeup, finding me soft pajamas as she brushed through my hair.

“You like this boy, don’t you?” My mother asked softly. 

I nodded hopelessly, a few more tears slipping out.

“Oh sweetheart, it’s okay,” She gathered me into her arms, and I felt safe enough to come completely undone, crying into her shoulders.

“He’s so alone momma,” I whimpered.

“I know sweetheart,” She soothed, petting my hair softly. “You remind me so much of your father, he had a heart just like yours,”

“What am I supposed to do?” The question was hopeless as I fumbled for an explanation.

“For right now, you’re going to calm down and unwind,” My mother chided. “No use worrying in something that can’t be changed right now,”

I nodded at the familiar words and took a deep breath, getting my thoughts under control. Again, and again I repeated the words my mother said. There was no use in worrying about it now. It could be dealt with in the morning. Tomorrow was another day. I had done what I could with the day and that was good enough.

Abby was waiting for me, sitting on my bed, three familiar vials in her hands. 

“I’m okay,” I confirmed. “I don’t think I need them,”

“You need to take them anyway, there’s no harm in it,” She chided, placing them in my hands. “This is twice now that he’s gotten you this worked up.”

“It’s not his fault,” I snapped venomously. I took a deep breath and composed myself. “It’s not him.”

“But these situations he’s getting you into,” Abby tried again. “This isn’t good for you Y/n,”

“I’m getting myself into these situations, well, the first one I had no control over, and I don’t know if I could have done that one without him, and tonight...” A sharp breath in and I sat on my bed beside her. “I knew it was a bad idea, I just thought I’d try,”

“You can’t do this to yourself, it’s self-destructive,” She stood, allowing me to curl up under the covers.

I toyed with the first vial, running through my fingers. Abby turned off the lights and got into her bed, settling down for the night.

“He needs someone,” I argued softly. “And... I think I do too,” 

“And you think that it should be him?”

“Yes... I think so,” I whispered, taking the first vial, making my way through the next two and falling into a dreamless sleep.

________________________________

“Draco Lucius Malfoy!” His father roared. “How dare you speak to me like that!?”

Draco flinched, and stayed quiet, knowing that saying anything would make the outcome worse. The guests had gone and all that was left in the big empty house was him, his parents and the house-elves.

“After everything that I have done for you! I even let you invite that filthy little blood traitor! And you chose her over your family!?”

Draco clenched his fists, gritting his teeth, knowing it was going to be a painful sleepless night again. Not even his mother could stop his father when he was like this.

............

Looking in the bathroom mirror, the bruises and cuts on his face and skin started to heal already from the vial he kept under the sink for nights like these. It wouldn’t be long until he could wash away the dried blood. It didn’t matter what his father did to him, he still had to look presentable, and he always had a knack for potions.

He shed his suit as quickly as possible, finding comfort in sweats and a t-shirt, neither of which were tight fitting nor insulating. It was the middle of the summer and he was shoved into a three- piece wool suit. Whose idea was that anyway?

Pacing his room, muttering under his breath, he attempted to control his thoughts and anger but failed, letting tears fall behind locked doors. He let out a yell of despair and rage, scattering the things from his desk onto the floor, staring at the carnage.

He quickly panicked when he saw spilled ink weaving its way toward your book that had been thrown about in his fury. Rescuing the book, he smoothed the pages, repressing the dandelion on its proper page, rereading the words:

“Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he is good.”

Draco had spent the few months from when you had given him the book trying to figure out why you had underlined that. He memorized it accidently and found himself repeating it whenever he felt lost. After tonight, maybe, he thought, the reason was because that’s what you saw in him.

“She’s such a Hufflepuff,” He muttered, smiling to himself. “She’s going to get herself hurt one day,” The thought sobered his mood.

He brought the book to his bed and with the bedside lamp turned on, he began to read once more, getting lost in a world filled with hope and redemption. The thoughts of his father faded, of tonight faded, of the harsh words and expectations... they all slipped away.

Consciousness faded from his eyes as sleep welcomed him like an old friend. He found himself in a wintery forest, hopelessly lost. The chill was getting to him as he wrapped his arms around himself. Crunching through the snow, he saw a light ahead, and followed it.

“Bloody hell,” He muttered, finding a lamppost. “Maybe I’ve read it one too many times,” 

“Hello?” The voice was soft and gentle, holding a familiar decorum.

He turned and saw you standing there, in a light blue long-sleeved dress with white fur accents, your hair falling about your shoulders, sweeping down to your waist—it made him miss your cropped hair, it didn’t quite look like you any longer. The frost caused your nose and cheeks to hold a red hue. You looked like you belonged in the scene around him, except for the mass of black fur in your arms.

“Well, what are you doing out in the cold?” You asked, talking to him like he was crazy, like you weren’t out in the snow as well.

“I didn’t choose to be here,” He muttered.

“Well, come on then, let’s get you warm,” You offered the mass of fur in your arms out to him and he realized that it was a thick coat.

Just as he reached for it, the dream faded into nothing.

When he woke the first bits of dawn shined through his window, and the book laid open across his chest. Rubbing his face and running a hand through his hair he sighed, setting the book on his bedside table.

“Get a grip Malfoy,” He muttered. “Fairytales aren’t real, they’re just stories... it’s stupid to believe in it,”

_____________________________

I woke in the morning, unusually early for me in the summer, and Abby was downstairs having breakfast with my mother. I paused on the stairwell—not because I almost tripped down the stairs.

“I’ve never seen her like this,” I heard Abby’s soft voice. “There’s something about him that just makes her... I can’t explain it.”

“Is she in danger?” My mother retorted. “I know the Malfoys. I know Lucius. I fear that Draco might be just like his father,”

There was a pause and I sank to the nearest stair, leaning against the railing, listening in.

“He was, for the first few years of schooling, you know it as well as I do. But when Y/n came back last year, she got a lot of attention... and I think he got jealous. She was close with Cedric last year...” Abby’s voice became somber. “I just feel like I’m missing something, something she won’t tell me,”

“She does that,” I heard the smile in my mother’s voice. “Every time I think I have her figured out, she’ll tell me something or do something that has me on my toes again. Her father was like that,”

“I think that’s a part of whatever’s going on too,” Abby noted. “Since... You-Know-Who has been rumored to be back... she’s been...”

“I know. I try so hard to keep her from it all. Which is why I don’t know if I want her to keep seeing Draco, his family was on the wrong side of the first war,”

That wasn’t new information to me, it was quite public.

“Forgive me if I’m stepping out of line, but I don’t think keeping Y/n from Draco will end well in any circumstance.” Abby muttered, chuckling darkly.

“She is stubborn that way, isn’t she?” The smile was back in my mother’s tone as I stood, deciding I had heard enough.

“Good morning sunshine,” Abby grinned obnoxiously. “Sleep long enough?”

I gave her a flat look and lumbered to the kitchen bar and sat at a stool, flopping my arms on the counter, laying my head on them. Breakfast came and past, and Abby said her goodbyes before heading home, leaving me alone by the fireplace, staring at nothing and thinking about everything.

“Why don’t you send an owl to Draco,” My mother suggested softly, setting a cup of tea near me.

I took a breath in and sighed.

“He probably hates me,” I voiced my thoughts aloud. “I left without saying goodbye... and I know he got into trouble because of me.”

“Well, if that’s the case, you can at least apologize,” There was something mischievous in my mother’s tone. “Write to him, dear,”

I sat at my desk, staring at the crumpled parchments that I had failed to write a cohesive letter on. This shouldn’t be that hard. Determined, I started again.

~

Draco,

I’m sorry about last night. I hope I didn’t get you into too much trouble and that you don’t hate me.

If you still want company and you’re not to upset with me 

I hope you’re not upset with me,

Y/n

~

There, that would do wouldn’t it? Before I could second guess anything, I sent it off. Putting it out of mind, I set outside to work on my spells for next year and to read in the summer sun. The family owl, Herman, returned later that evening, as the sun was setting over the mountain range. The barn owl dropped the letter and dove off into the wheat fields to hunt.

The parchment was expensive, I could tell by the weight and grit of it. The green wax seal held a recognizable mark. Anxiety fluttered in my chest about what was inside, and part of me worried it might not be from Draco at all, but another Malfoy.

I took a breath and opened the letter.

~

Y/n,

Why would I be upset with you? It baffles me to know what goes on inside that head of yours.

And I can handle my father’s temper. I have for years. There’s no need to worry about that.

If you want to come to the Manor, my parents are going to be gone the next month. That is if you want to, and don’t mind the circumstance. I’ll have my mother write to yours.

I’m not mad at you, stop thinking that, 

Draco

~

I ran my thumb delicately over the words on the page, a smile reaching my lips. He wasn’t mad at me. That was the biggest relief. His cryptic remark about his father worried me, however, but that could be worried about another day.

Fate was with me, because my mother consented to let me spend the afternoons at the Manor, as long as I was home for dinner. I sent a letter to Draco as soon as I found out and began to look forward to the next afternoon.

Draco met me outside the large front doors, looking as if he were trying not to smile. I didn’t care that a grin stretched across my face. Before I could stop myself, I jumped into his arms, hugging him. He was shocked a moment but returned the gesture. I pulled away quickly, blushing.

“Sorry,” I offered.

“No, it’s alright,” There was a suppressed teasing smile on his face. “Shall we?”

The house seemed even bigger now that it was empty, and it didn’t quite hold the same magic as it did the night of the Solstice Ball. He led me through the house and back down a familiar hallway and out to the rose garden once more. It was different during the day as the old oak trees created a canopy for us.

_________________________

Draco never actually thought that this would work and that you’d be here with him. Good things didn’t just happen to him, ever. But now he wasn’t alone, for the first time in his life. Maybe this month would be bearable.

“I... I brought the other books, if you want to read them,” Your voice was timid as sat in the same spot you did the night of the Ball, hugging your bag to your chest. “We don’t have to though, I just thought maybe,”

Your innocence made him smile, the softness of your demeanor. He never really noticed before.

You and he sat on the grass of the small garden hidden in the rose bushes to anyone onlooking, and he watched you read as he did at Hogwarts. The words fell from your lips, creating a moving picture in his head once more about the Pevensie children in Narnia.

“How much do you know about the muggle world?” The question slipped through Draco’s lips before he could stop it.

“Oh,” You closed the book, setting it in your lap. “Well, I mean, I know a bit more than most, not like my parents are muggle, but my father had a fascination for certain things, music, movies, books, stuff like that,” A shrug left your shoulders as you stretched out your legs, crossing your ankles.

Draco tried very hard not to notice that this was the first time he had seen you in shorts, ever. Your entire wardrobe changed in fact, it was void of school uniforms—sweaters and skirts—and heavily relied on shorts and cut off t-shirts with designs he didn’t understand. It almost suited you more, seeing you this carefree.

The summer sun faded, and you paused your reading, a sigh falling from your lips. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” The question was hopeful from your lips as you stood. He gave a small nod and saw you to the door, watching you leave.

Dinner was quiet as he ate alone, wishing that you were still there with him. The house-elves had made it, as usual and set it in the dining room, like always. It was maddening, being alone. He never grasped how deafening it was until you were gone.

All he could do was wait for tomorrow as he tossed and turned all night. 

“You look awful,” The quip came with a smile and an air of concern.

“Didn’t sleep well,” He muttered, leading you to a random sitting room that held a grand piano that he watched you eye enviously. You sat up right, in the corner of the couch, taking up the least amount of space possible as you began to read once more.

Knowing he was pushing his luck with whatever this was, he had no qualm about stretching out across the couch and laying his head in your lap.

You raised an eyebrow at him, and he challenged you with a smirk, daring you to say something. You didn’t. Instead you continued to read to him, your other hand falling and resting on his chest, counting the soothing breaths he took.

He wondered if you knew that you absentmindedly rubbed his chest with your thumb as you read. Or that you were driving him absolutely mad by doing it.

___________________________

When my words began to slur together too much to understand, I gave up reading and placed the book on the end table, realizing that Draco was fast asleep in my lap. It hurt, to see him like this. There was no fear or worry in his eyes, no look of distress or a façade of power in his features. He was at peace, like the weight of the world was off of his shoulders.

Carefully, I ran my hand through his hair, combing it back and out of his face. It was soft and silky. His eyes fluttered open.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” I teased softly. “Have a nice nap?”

He sat up instantly, groaning and rubbing his face.

“Sorry?” He offered, defeated. “I wasted the entire afternoon, didn’t I?”

“I don’t mind, though I have no idea where to start the book again,”

He gave a hopeless laugh. I pulled my feet onto the sofa and angled myself towards him. He sat, his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. He was a burning man again.

“I’m sorry Y/n,”

It didn’t go unnoticed when he flinched as I reached out to rub his back comfortingly. My thoughts drifted back to his cryptic remark about his father from his letter and something burned within me.

“Don’t apologize for sleeping Dray,” I soothed, moving closer to him. “I’d rather you do that than be miserable all afternoon trying to humor me,”

The clock chimed and I sighed in defeat.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Draco, please get some rest,”

I laid awake in bed that night, wondering if Draco was taking my advice and sleeping, but I knew that it was probably a long shot to hope that.

I don’t know how it happened, but three weeks slipped through my fingers. I spent every afternoon with Draco, most times reading, inside or outside: in different rooms of the house, walking along the trails of the yard, under trees.

Sometimes he would fall asleep in my lap, or we’d just lay and watch the clouds and sleep claimed us both. There were days when he’d play the piano for me and I would sit beside him, watching quietly. Each time I saw him, he looked miserable, but it would fade by the time I left, a true smile touching his lips.

I arrived one afternoon, and Draco wasn’t outside as usual to greet me. Hesitant, I let myself in, my eyes searching for him. Hearing a clatter and shouting upstairs, I rushed up, nearly tripping in my fervor.

“Draco!?” I screamed, bursting through the door that separated us.

I was startled by the scene around me. Books were strewn everywhere, and a large armoire was thrown across the room, its doors fallen unceremoniously to the floor. Shredded clothing littered the room and the bed was barely standing, all of its four posts mangled. The wallpaper was sliced into nothing. But it wasn’t what was the most heartbreaking.

Draco was curled up on the floor, his head buried in his arms, his wand clutched in one of his hands as his shoulders shook. I barely heard his muffled sobs.

Taking out my wand I began to mutter the Repairing charm but paused. Instead, I put my wand away and made my way over to Draco, sitting beside him. I stared at the mess around us and slowly laid my head on his shoulder. He didn’t acknowledge me.

__________________________________

Draco wanted nothing more for than you to go away. He didn’t want you to see this. He didn’t want anyone to see this. He was a failure and a mess of a wizard who didn’t deserve anything. So, he most certainly didn’t deserve you sitting beside him, unafraid.

“I know you’re scared,” Your voice was soft and low. “I know you’re lonely, and I know it eats at you. I know that’s why you lash out,”

You paused, and he dared to peek at you. You were looking up at the ceiling, tears caught in your eyes as your lip was caught between your teeth.

“I know he abuses you, and it’s why you flinch whenever I try to touch you,” 

Draco hung his head, his hand tightening around his wand.

“And I can only imagine what your father is doing now, being away. I know it can’t be good, even though some part of me wishes it was. And I know you wish that too,”

He looked up at you, and slowly your eyes met his. Carefully your hand rose, and he wasn’t afraid. Not of you. Your fingers brushed through his hair, moving it away from his eyes.

“There,” You whispered softly, a kind smile on your lips. “Not so bad is it? Words are powerful, Draco. Speaking them, even though you’re afraid, takes some of their power.” You eyes dropped down and you took a small breath in. “And pressing on despite them makes you stronger,”

For the first time, Draco saw the sadness you held in your eyes and the weight that you carried on your shoulders. And it occurred to him, you had a lot to carry. Your father had died when you were young, and you had lived with your mother alone in a house that probably reminded you of him every moment.

You spoke with such wisdom he wondered how long it took for you to learn the same lesson before you could teach it. You never liked large crowds and you probably missed a lot of incredible things because of it. Then, you had to go and become his friend. You took a chance on him when you had every reason to walk away.

A girl who ran away and hid in books that you shared with him. A girl who ran to stories because they were better than what went on around her. A girl who showed him the same escape.

Lost in his thoughts, he hardly noticed that you slipped his wand out of his hand and stood slowly, offering your hand to him.

“Let’s fix this, yeah?”

He didn’t know if you meant the room or him, but he nodded, wanting to do both. A smile spread across your face as you helped him up.

“Here, my aunt taught me,” Tucking his wand into your back pocket, you took his hand, standing beside him looking at the wreckage. 

“In every job that must be done, there is an element of fun.” Your eyes shined. “Find the fun and snap,” You snapped your fingers. “The job’s a game,”

All around him he watched his room piece itself back together. The ruined walls mended themselves and the armoire reassembled and returned to its rightful position. The books picked themselves off the floor and reassembled and his bed made itself.

“What kind of spell is that?” His eyes darted around as the room continued to restore itself.

“Cleaning spell,” You smiled softly, “My aunt used to watch me when I was little, showed me how to clean up after I made a mess doing accidental magic,”

“You’re strange, you know that?” Draco smiled shaking his head. 

“I know,” You quipped. “But you love it,”

There was a beat between the two of you as it dawned on you what slipped through your lips. Before you could amend it, he responded.

“I do,” And it was the truth.

You looked down; a smile still stretched across your face.

“I thought I wasn’t your type?” You drawled mischievously.

“Oh, I’m never going to live that one down, am I?” He dismayed, a chuckle leaving his lips.

“As if I’d let you,” You reached up and he still didn’t flinch as you wrapped him into a hug. “Thank you for letting me in,”

His arms wrapped around you in return. You were so warm and soft, and a chill ran through him as your fingers curled in his hair.

“Thanks for taking a chance on me.”

You two spent the rest of the afternoon curled up in his window seat. You didn’t read to him, and neither of you really talked. Instead you held him in your arms, absentmindedly petting his hair and humming. You watched the view outside the window, and he watched you.

And for the moment he felt safe and didn’t feel alone. Even when you left that evening, he still didn’t feel isolated. He knew you would be back for the few days that he had left before his parents return. And though that thought was worrisome, he didn’t let it bother him.

“My parents will be back soon, but so will she,” He spoke aloud to an empty house. 

__________________________

“Draco?” I called to the nearly empty house again. “Draco!?”

“Here!” He responded, coming from in front of me somewhere. “Come on!” 

“Come on where!?” I asked, following the sound of his voice.

“Come on!” “Draco,” I whined.

I finally found him, he was in the kitchen, a large basket on one arm offering his other hand to you.

“What are we doing?” I complained lightly as he pulled me through the grassy backyard, down a path we’d never taken together before and into the woods.

“Will you trust me?” He bantered back, throwing me a playful questioning look.

“Sure, sure,” I rolled my eyes and dodged a tree branch. “Trust me, he says,”

Draco stopped short and caught me before I went barreling down a muddy slope and into a small lake that resided in the neck of the woods. Sunlight filtered in golden and green through the trees lighting the water and scene softly.

“You do know how to swim don’t you?” He asked softly, grinning at me. 

“I can swim circles around you, Malfoy,”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Isn’t it always?” I smirked.

I don’t remember laughing so much or having that much fun in an afternoon ever. Being with Draco seemed to make everything hurt less. Between slash wars or simply just hanging onto his shoulders as he chauffeured me around the crystal water it was a shining moment.

“You know it’s okay to like him, right?” Abby’s words echoed in my mind.

 All I could think in response was how could someone not?

Wrapped in a fluffy probably over-expensive towel on the lake beach, I watched Draco in the fading sun as he lounged, his eyes closed, smile reminiscent on his lips.

“It’s that time again isn’t it?” He asked softly.

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see. I’d have to go home soon, and our days were running out. A piece of me wished we had figured it out sooner. What it was, however, I didn’t know. But we would have had more time to figure it out.

Sighing I stood, casting a Drying charm and slipping his shirt over my head and my shorts back on, leaning over him.

“Well, are you gonna say goodbye?” I mused as he peeked an eye open. 

“That’s my shirt,”

“Not anymore,” I grinned, and he sat up as I crouched down beside him.

The awkward energy the lingered between us changed to something a bit more nervous and potential. His eyes matched the crystal water behind us, though his hair slicked back with the water reminded me of our first few years at school, so I reached up and ruffled it out so that he looked like my Draco once more.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Dray,” Standing, a smile remained on my face as he squinted up at me before standing himself.

“Y/n,” He called as I started to ascend the small bank.

His hand caught mine and he pulled me back to him, steadying me with his hands on my waist. Raising an eyebrow, I looked up at him expectant. His hand came up and tucked a stray strand of hair out of my face, lingering on my cheek.

As he leaned down, my eyes slipped closed as I felt his lips on mine, the anxiety in my chest turning into butterflies fluttering beautifully inside me. I pressed up on my toes and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, our lips dancing trying to find the right rhythm. His hand cradled my face softly and his other held my waist steady.

I pulled away reluctantly, nuzzling my nose to his. 

“Still not your type?” I breathed out.

“Not even close,” He chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips. “Go before you get in trouble,” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I promised meeting soft blue eyes.

“You’re awfully happy,” My mother commented offhand as I walked through the door. “Have a good time this afternoon?”

I nodded, smiling to myself and headed upstairs. After dinner there was a letter sitting on my desk as Herman, our owl, preened his feathers on my sill. The recognizable green seal offered me comfort as I sat on my bed and opened the letter.

~

Y/n,

I’m so sorry, but my parents came home early. I hoped that we would have more time, but it looks like our time is up. I’m sorry. Please don’t be upset.

Yours,

Draco

~

My heart fell at the letter as tears stung my eyes. I laid back on my mass of pillows and stared at the words, wishing them not to be true. No matter how much I stared, they didn’t change. I sprang from my bed and found parchment, writing him back immediately.

~

Draco,

You don’t need to apologize, but I do want to see you again. This can’t be it for us, for whatever this is. Please, I don’t want to lose this, and I don’t want to lose you either. You’re too important to me.

I won’t let this be goodbye,

Y/n

~

I sent the letter off and stared at the setting sun. 

_______________________________

Draco reread your letter again, laying on his bed, not sure of how to make this not be goodbye. He didn’t want it to be goodbye either. He didn’t want to lose you.

The sad part happened to be that as soon as school started again, he would lose you. There he had to be a Slytherin and you were a Hufflepuff. He had a mask to keep on and you... you’d fight against him because of it. The thought made his stomach churn.

Couldn’t he have just one good thing without his family—his father—getting in the way?

There was a knock on the door and his mother entered his room. He sat up quickly and threw the letter under a pillow.

“How is she taking it?” His mother asked, a knowing look in her eyes. “Don’t try to lie to me,” 

Draco sighed and hung his head.

“Not well,” He answered truthfully.

His mother came and sat beside him, rubbing his back softly.

“Part of loving someone is doing whatever it takes to keep them safe,” Her voice was gentle and despondent. “It’s a hard lesson, my dear, but you must keep her safe, and keep her from your father,”

Draco nodded mutely.

Taking his mother’s words to heart, he hid you from his father. He gave no sign that anything was out of the ordinary, nor that you were here at all. It was torture, seeing your ghost wander around the house or the yard, smiling and waving at him, knowing it wasn’t his anymore.

Draco tucked your book away, in the bottom corner of his school chest under an old spell book, your letters folded inside. And as much as he’d like to tuck you away the same way, he couldn’t. You were in his dreams that seemed too real. It left him awake late in the night, craving your touch, your kiss, your laughter, for you just to smile at him one more time.

Even though it seemed impossible, September arrived.

.

.

Chapter 3

End Note: So, hi, I hope you liked it. Anyway, I know i have a few different timelines up with Draco and different Readz, and that a lot of you are invested in my Gryffindor!Reader one, and that’s amazing and more than I deserve honestly. And I will continue ro write for it, but I need time to get all of my thoughts down and fleshed out. There are a lot of things that I want to do, and will do, but to get from A to B I need to find the right path. So there isn’t a posting schedule, though I do write daily as a practice. I know you all are excited to see what happens next, and so am I on some things, but I ask your patience and to not be upset when I post something different. I am human, I do have anxiety and depression and executive dysfunction as well as a life outside of writing unfortunately, so cut your girl some slack. I love all of you and what means the most to me is seeing reblogs and comments, not just like/kudos. I have extreme anxiety and those really help me calm down and feel like I’m wanted and doing the right thing. It’s stupid sure, but it’s me and I can accept and love that part of me too. I love you guys so much. 

--KGL

Tags: @un-limiteddd @geekysimmerthings @coffee-addicti @ilikestuffproductions @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @dolphincommander @bisexualbumblebeesstuff @fuzzy-panda@bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog @jillanaholland @shookyungsoo @savingdraco @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @chaotic-good-gemini @memalfoy-spidey@theres-a-dog-outside-omg @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise @dietkiwi@katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen @mccloudchloe @hxneybgb @justsomerandomgur @belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms @howdycharlie @littlethingsinmymindla @xtrashmouthxtozierx @cocochanelthepupper @ninacotte@mccloudchloe @braelynn-j @jiggllyy @honeymarvel @go-whovian-universe @darcypottah @atomicpunkrock @thiccheerioss @lottie289 @boredashaeck @beautiful-pegasus @tceedlmao @deadlynyghtshayde​ @iconjuresnapeingrandmaclothes​ 

[mcatra]

AU where Catra works at burger king

Catra works minimum wage at burger king, Adora comes in every day as the world’s worst customer.

AO3 

‘I am being HARASSED.’ Catra groans, sprawling on her side of the register. ‘I’m begging you, just kill me.’ 

It was another slow afternoon at Burger King, or as she likes to call it the absolute shithole she only got minimum wage for. Catra could be out there living her life as a youthful teenager, instead she was serving chicken nuggets to her worst enemy- Adora. It didn’t help that said blonde was currently sitting in the corner, laughing obnoxiously with her friends she had replaced her with. 

‘Aw I’m sure Adora isn’t here to harass you, she probably just likes our food! I do cook these to perfection you know.’ Scorpia says conversationally from her spot in the kitchen as she flame broils another patty.

Catra scoffs, her eyes trained on her most hated customer. 

‘There has to be some sort of law against coming to one’s workplace every day! No one likes Burger King that much! NOBODY!’ 

Suddenly she sees Adora sit up from her chair, that makes a horrific screeching noise on their unmopped floor. 

‘Oh god she’s coming.’ Catra whispers, trying to duck into the kitchen. ‘Scorpia! Hide me!’ 

Her friend shoves her back to the counter, as Adora approaches. ‘You’re the only one on this shift who is allowed to use the register-’

‘Do not make me serve her I swear to god-’

‘Hi Catra.’ Adora smiles, and Catra’s eyes narrow. 

‘Whatchu want, princess?’ She sneers, avoiding her piercing blue eyes that reminded her of still lakes. Or swirling oceans. Or the fluffy white cloud bath bombs from Lush. Wait, no.

‘Mmm, can I get a strawberry sundae?’ Adora chirps, looking above her at the menu. 

‘Can’t.’ Catra drawls, looking at her black painted nails. ‘The machine’s broken.’

Adora’s face falls in disappointment, and Catra cheers inwardly at her small victory until Scorpia’s voice cuts through their conversation.

‘That’s not true, the soft serve machine is fine.’ Her traitor friend says, pulling down on the lever and swirling a perfect sundae into the cup. She adds the syrup before handing it to Adora.

‘That’ll be $1.50.’

‘Thanks Scorpia.’ Adora smiles, rummaging through her purse to collect her coins.

Catra rolls her eyes. 

‘What a cheap ass. Little rich girl can only afford a dollar-fifty ice cream? No wonder we’re running out of business.’ 

Adora frowns at this. ‘Did you want a tip or something?’ 

‘What? FUCK no. I don’t take charity.’ Catra scoffs, snatching the coins from her old childhood-friend-to-enemies palm. She swiftly jabs in the total and throws the coins into the drawer. They’re forced into silence as the receipt slowly prints, and she tries to ignore the way Adora is staring at her. 

Suddenly Adora leans in close, and she can hear her murmur close to her ear.

‘I’ll see you at student council.’

Catra flushes at the proximity, every hair standing on end. Before she can stutter out an insult, Adora rips the receipt from the machine and is sauntering back to Bow and Glimmer. 

The brown haired girl deflates, her nails scratching on the old countertop. All that mental damage, for $1.50? Life was not fair. 

Adora always had the perfect grades, the perfect family and friends, the most cushy and royal upbringing. After their falling out involving a scholarship to a private school, they hadn’t spoken until the merger. 

It filled Catra with sick pleasure that the private school had lost their prestige to embezzled money, and now had to be government funded. However in consequence of this, they had decided to merge the public and private school so they could sell off the land to build skyrises or something. 

This meant Catra lost her position of School Captain to Adora after a fierce election, and had been demoted to Vice Captain. Not to mention no matter how hard Catra tried, she could never beat her in the school rankings. She couldn’t work to support herself and study 6 hours a day, like rich privileged Adora. 

So now here she was, forced to interact with the one person she could’ve gone her whole life without seeing on a daily basis. 

Ever since Adora had discovered Catra had been working at Burger King during a late night drive-thru run, her ex best friend had made it her life’s mission to make her life hell. 

Of course she had done her best to make the experience awful to drive her away. Catra knew Adora hated pickles, so she would threaten Kyle to slice up an entire pickle’s worth in the blonde’s Whopper before giving it to her with a sweet smile. She is filled with glee watching Adora picking them out one by one in disgust. 

This doesn’t stop Adora from coming though. Not even when they had made it into some sort of competition to see how many pickles could physically be crammed into a bun. Or even when she had put every single condiment including the salt and pepper into an unholy liquid concoction and served it in a cola cup. Not even when she gave Adora food poisoning when they got too carried away trying to stack as many patties as they could to recreate Sky Burger. 

No matter what she did, the girl never went away. Even though she had so easily disappeared from her life when she had needed her the most. But she didn’t need Adora, she had gotten this job herself, she had gotten a roof over her head with her own power. She had worked so hard to become independent from Shadow Weaver, and no matter what, Adora will not jeopardize it. 

--

‘I’m doing, what exactly?’ 

Catra stares dumbly at her manager, a sinking feeling dawning on her.  

‘Adora ordered a birthday party at Burger King.’ Lonnie drawls, ignoring the look of complete horror on Catra’s face.

‘No, you can’t do this to me! Roster me for any other day. I cannot psychologically take this.’ She begs. 

‘Sorry dude, the deposit has already been paid for. We’re short staffed, and it seems like Kyle has gotten fryer oil burns from your last burger experiment with Adora.’ Lonnie whaps Catra with the birthday catering pamphlet. 

‘Stupid Kyle.’ Catra hisses, clenching it in her fist. Curse this damn place that can only afford to hire teenagers. 

‘Anyway, just set up the tables and decorations after school on Thursday. Should be a good day for business, with Adora and her posse being rich kids and all.’

‘Can I at least get time and a half?’ 

‘Are you gonna be paying Kyle’s medical bill?’

Catra pouts. ‘Not my fault you guys don’t provide gloves. This place is an OSHA violation haven.’ 

WE do the PLANNING, YOU have the FUN! The bold font emblazoned over the small child’s smiling face mocks her from the pamphlet. Catra clenches it in her fist. 

‘Also why the fuck did she book a kid’s birthday party package when she is like 17, and not 6 years old?!’ 

Lonnie rolls her eyes. ‘Do you still want a job or not? Just read the rest of the form, counting on you to organize it.’ 

Catra squints at the crumpled paper in her hand. 

GOLD PARTY PACKAGE

-Themed birthday cards!

-Party bags!

-Birthday gift for the celebrant!

-Jumbo birthday cake!

-Pinata!

-Special birthday songs!

-Dedicated hostess!

Catra can feel her soul physically leave her body. This was gonna be a long week.

-

It was terrible.

Adora had handed these obnoxious Burger King birthday invitations to all her friends, so now she had all these RSVP’s to the worst birthday of all of human history. In between working shifts until midnight, dealing with Adora at student council and not eating, Catra was on edge. 

‘No, you can not write ‘Die Adora Die’ on her cake.’ Scorpia chides, slapping Catra’s hands away to pipe the icing. 

‘It’s what she deserves.’ Catra seethes. If she couldn’t eat it, she could at least ruin it, right? 

‘They’ll be here soon, so try to take that dying grimace off your face.’ Scorpia replies, and Catra rolls her eyes before adding the finishing touches to the cake. 

Suddenly the door opens, interrupting her decorating. The once quiet establishment was now full of loud chatter as their classmates piled in one by one. All of Adora’s old private school friends were here, all unironically celebrating their school captain’s children’s birthday party at the worst fast food restaurant in their state. 

She plasters her fakest customer service smile she can muster. Dignity at the door. 

‘Hi, you must be here for the Birthday Girl’s party.’ Catra says, approaching the group. Just treat it like you don’t know them.

‘Aw you don’t have to be so formal with us, Vice Captain.’ Glimmer teases, and Catra almost snaps from her facade. Almost.

‘Let me show you to your table.’ Catra grits out. 

She had chosen the ugliest poop brown balloons she could find, and had deliberately made the HAPPY BIRTHDAY banner lopsided on the wall.

‘Thanks Catra!’ Adora grins, bouncing past her to admire the decorations. 

Catra imagines Adora’s face on the pinata and smashing it into a million pieces. She forces herself to take a deep breath. It was just the one shift, and she really needed this job. Plus after the party was over, she could probably nab some leftovers for her trouble. 

All of the girls (plus Bow and Seahawk) sit around the table, and Catra marches over with the laminated menus. 

‘Ooh, we all get hats!’ Perfuma says, placing her Burger King cardboard crown on top of her head.

Frosta squints at the menu. ‘I’ve never eaten fast food before. Looks disgusting.’

‘I think it’s fine! Adora wanted to eat here.’ Glimmer says in a sugarly sweet tone that just came off as passive aggressive. ‘Even though I had suggested my penthouse by the ocean and we go here nearly every day.’

‘I much rather would be at the ocean beach house thank you very much.’ Mermista retorts, swatting Sea Hawk off her shoulder.

Yeah me too, Catra thinks bitterly. She stomps off with their orders, cursing them inwardly the entire way to the kitchen.

Adora’s friends start playing with the so-called ‘entertainment’ they had haphazardly set up. 

It was ridiculous, seeing grown teenagers lining up to try to smack the shit out of a glittery pinata. They squabble over who gets to hit it first, Catra feeling very much like a glorified babysitter to her most hated enemies. 

After a while, she sees Scorpia emerge from the kitchen. ‘Happy Birthday to you,’ Scorpia sings with Adora’s birthday cake in her arms. ‘Happy Birthday to you~’ 

The others join in on the song, Catra only mouthing the words in silent rebellion. The cake is emblazoned with a crude doodle of Adora’s face with HAPPY BIRTHDAY written on her enormous forehead. 

‘Oh my gosh, I love it!’ Adora’s sky blue eyes light up, and she’s practically sparkling. Catra huffs, she wasn’t supposed to like it. Didn’t she see the drawing was supposed to make fun of her five-head? 

Adora catches Catra’s eye, beaming. ‘Did you draw this for me?’ 

‘She did!’ Scorpia tattles, and her enemy’s smile increased tenfold. Catra can feel her cheeks grow warm. Dammit. 

‘Whatever.’ Catra bites out, unable to meet her gaze.  

Luckily no one else seemed to be paying attention to the weird atmosphere between them, as they were split between eyeing the cake and pinata wrestling. 

‘Get over here Sea Hawk, we can do the pinata later!’ Mermista chastises, watching Bow spin her blindfolded boyfriend. 

‘Let me just get one good hit in, and I’ll join you!’ He crows, swinging the bat in random directions as Bow ducks the blows, laughing. 

Just for anything to do, Catra takes it upon herself as hostess to snatch up the knife and start cutting. She cuts into the cake to start portioning out the slices, but as the knife touches the bottom Glimmer lets out a shriek. 

‘What?’ Catra deadpans.

‘If you cut to the bottom of the cake, you have to kiss the person closest to you!’ Glimmer says, a demonic look in her eye. Adora elbows her, embarrassed. 

‘Excuse me?’ Catra’s never heard of this tradition. Though to be fair, she had not been to many parties in her lifetime. 

‘Oh, that’s right!’ Perfuma claps her hands together. ‘Adora’s closest right? Go ahead Catra!’

To her horror, Glimmer starts pushing Catra towards the blonde. She digs her heels into the linoleum, only to find that she was sliding from the newly mopped floors. 

‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ The girls start chanting, like they were her friends and that she wasn’t their damn server.

‘What the hell- fuck no, let go of me!’ Catra finally snaps, wrenching herself from Glimmer’s grip. 

The momentum sends her stumbling into Sea Hawk, who was still attempting to hit the pinata. 

‘Ack!’ He squawks. 

The bat goes flying straight out his hand and into their double doors. There’s a huge crash, and everybody winces at the noise. 

The glass pane shatters, and so does Catra’s sanity. She was so fired. 

Sea Hawk lifts the blindfold. 

‘Did I get it?’ 

---

It was nearly closing time, and Catra was still sweeping up bits of glass from the floor. This had been one of the worst days of her life, and she had been beaten and homeless before. To make it worse, Adora was still grovelling when she should’ve gone hours ago like the rest of them. 

‘I am so sorry Catra, I’ll pay for everything, I’ll take full responsibility so you don’t get fired-’ 

‘Stop it.’ She was too tired to even argue with Adora like she usually did, wishing Adora would just go away already so she could grovel over the phone to her regional manager without an audience. Catra always pretended to hate her job, but she couldn’t afford to lose it. She could barely make rent with her Burger King wage. 

‘Please, let me help clean. It was my fault anyway.’

There was hardly any money left over to feed herself most days, that’s why she was skinny as a rake as opposed to the toned, buff, well fed Adora. She had only been functioning on a few nuggets that Scorpia snuck her yesterday. Did Catra still have those food coupons? How long until the bank charged overdraft fees? 

‘Catra are you listening-’ 

‘I said stop it!’ Catra snaps. 

Adora has the audacity to look stunned. 

‘Why do you insist on harassing me at work everyday? Is it fun? Forcing me to play servant to you rich girls, to sing and dance for you? You already beat me in everything at school, you’re already School Captain, you have all the money and a loving family you need, so can you stop rubbing your privilege in my face just for one second so I can THINK?’ 

‘I...I just…I’m sorry.’ Adora starts and aborts a few sentences. Catra can’t even stand to look at her face. 

‘This party at your work. It was the only way to get you to celebrate my birthday with me.’ 

‘.....’

‘Um, I-’

‘Whatever.’ Catra retorts, trying and failing to pick up the last shards with her too long fingernails. She hisses when the glass nicks her finger, cutting into skin. Drops of blood fall to the floor.

‘Are you okay?!’ Adora gasps, rushing to her side. Catra slaps her hand away, she needed to go find the cleaning supplies. Blood was a biohazard, there was some protocol for it but she was having trouble remembering. 

She goes to stand up, but the fatigue rushes to her head and her legs give in underneath her. Instead of smacking her head against the floor, she feels herself land on something soft instead. 

Adora hooks her around the waist, gently placing her into the booth. She grabs a napkin from the dispenser and wraps it around Catra’s hand. She can feel Adora’s warm hand squeezing her own. 

‘I’m just applying pressure to the cut.’ Adora says quietly. 

Catra just closes her eyes. It’s well past midnight and she should be locking up the store, but she can’t bring herself to move. 

[svtntntn]

peace of mind

fake dating!au x co-workers!au

inspo: one of the sideplots from the kdrama 'romance is a bonus book' featuring lee nayoung and lee jongsuk

where taking work home has a greater meaning

——

"(y/n), honey. Answer your phone, you know better than to ignore your mother's calls, even after all this time. I wanted to let you know that Seungcheol is going to be in your neighborhood this weekend! He mentioned that he was visiting Joshua in preparation of the wedding and I think you two should catch up! If you would like, I can set a reservation at that one skyline restaurant for you both! Or I can set you up with someone—remember Kim Junmyeon? The doctor? He’s recently single! Call me, sweetie."

~

What was he doing here?

You're in the midst of laughing at some story Seungkwan and Seokmin were telling about the antics of their afternoon music class when you suddenly choke on your drink when your eyes catch on a pair of familiar brown ones across the room, the alcohol stinging your throat sourly.

You instantly dart around for your purse and your jacket, shoving them on quickly. Chungha pats your back in concern as you duck your head below the table, attempting to stay hidden from eye level.

"(y/n)? Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm alright! I-I just dropped something! Oh where did it go?" You maneuver around Chungha while keeping your head down, "I'll be right back!"

Keeping your head low, you manage to get pretty deep into the crowded bar until you run directly into someone's stomach, their hands finding your shoulders and lifting you up, "Ow—what the? (y/n)? What are you doing? Never mind that, where is everyone else? I got sidetracked with grading papers—"

"Shhhhh!" You put your hand to his lips and peer around the room again, scanning the bar for one person you're avoiding. "Mingyu! Will you please—shush for one moment, Mingyu!"

He wrestles your hand off his lips with a disgruntled groan, "What for, (y/n)? Why are you acting all weird?"

You can see Seungcheol weaving his way through the crowded bar to get to you but your eyes focus on Mingyu in front of you. He narrows his eyes, "is someone following you? Oh wait—is it some wronged parent from our school? Some ex-boyfriend of yours? I got it! It's that one guy who picked you up after classes that one time! He wasn't that handsome, he was actually pretty ugly, sorr—"

The words tumble out of your mouth before you have a single moment to even think about it, "can you for one second—pretend to be my boyfriend?"

Mingyu wordlessly stares at you as you repeat your question, pulling on his arm as you turn to see Seungcheol coming closer and closer, "Will you please? Mingyu, please? Answer me!"

"Ok, I’ll think about it.... one second." You let out a breath of relief and close your eyes, preparing to face the lion ahead till you hear Mingyu scoff, "done."

Your eyes flash open at his literal taking of your word, "why you! Kim Mingyu, the one time I ask—"

He waves off the whole-name spiel and walks away from you, "I'll be back."

"Mingyu!" You call his name but he continues retreating into the crowd until you can't see his figure anymore. Curse words directed at your co-worker are mumbled under your breath, the filthiest expletives leaving your mouth in an angry rush before you feel a tap on your shoulder.

"(y/n)?"

You silently pray before slowly turning around and plastering on the brightest smile you can, "Seungcheol, I haven't seen you in awhile."

The lights shine over his hair in an angelic way, creating a faint halo along the crown of his head, almost making you forget the fact he's practically your mother's lackey. "Well, you haven't visited home in a long time."

"You know very well why I haven't visited in a long time." You remind him pointedly, "my mother is an insufferable woman and that already is an understatement."

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow at your words, "She's just looking out for you, you know that."

"By being completely unreasonable and forcing me to go on blind dates every other weekend?" You volley back towards him sarcastically, "sure, she's worried about me. She just wants to make sure her only daughter doesn't become a lonely, old spinster."

"(y/n), imagine when you have your own children. You'd want them to live comfortably, wouldn't you? To watch them live without worrying about money or about having a roof over their heads, right? Your mother just wants what's best for you—"

"But that's not what I want," you emphasize, "what's best for me is to actually live my life! To worry and struggle, and work till midnight, a-and sleep till two in the afternoon! And go out with who I want to go out with and marry whoever I want to marry. That's what I want out of life," Seungcheol makes a face at you but you continue on, "yes I want to be comfortable and stable but on my own terms, on my own efforts."

Seungcheol snorts, "and how is that going?"

"I'm doing just fine, thank you very much." If you weren't in a crowded bar, you would have ordered a fresh drink to pour on Seungcheol. "I'm actually here with my co-workers for some drinks," you nod in the direction of Chungha and the rest of your workmates in the corner, who are cheering merrily at the next round of shots.

If you didn't know any of them, you definitely wouldn't think they'd be a group of teachers—nonetheless teachers for elementary students. "What are you doing here?"

"I’m visiting Joshua, he’s finally back in town after coming back from the States. He’s getting married next month, remember? You got the invitation, didn’t you?"

You nod as you remember receiving a white and gold envelope in the mail a couple weeks ago, the elegant calligraphy remarking the wedding details in due time and the RSVP at the bottom was left unmarked as it mockingly reminded you of your relationship status.

You knew you had to go to Joshua's wedding, but alone?

"If you’re going, maybe we could... you know, go together?" Seungcheol proposes, "I know it’ll save Joshua—"

Where was a drink when you needed one?

"(y/n)! Baby, I got your drink." As if on command, Mingyu sets down two glasses for you and himself on the empty table next to you, beaming his charming smile usually saved for the children and parents at the school.

You hide your confusion with a faux smile back at him, staring into him intently to try and read his mind, "Oh, thank you… baby."

"Of course, anything for my girl." Mingyu says warmly, his expression changing when he notices Seungcheol standing in front of you, "and you are?" His voice is protective as he takes a step in between you both. You almost want to snort at Mingyu's defensive nature as your fake boyfriend but you hold it back.

The scowl on Seungcheol's lips morphs into a forced smile, "Seungcheol, a family friend of (y/n)'s." Mingyu steps forward and shakes Seungcheol's hand with a slick grin before easily wrapping his arm around your shoulders and the other casually holding his drink. "And who are you exactly?"

Seungcheol’s eyes look to yours expectantly and you feel small under his gaze, "Oh, this is Mingyu—"

"I'm (y/n)'s boyfriend." Mingyu pulls a confident smile on his lips as he watches Seungcheol's jaw drop, pure satisfaction running through his body.

You take a pull from the drink Mingyu—your now boyfriend—got you before setting it down, hesitantly curling up into his arms and relaxing as Mingyu leans into you,  "Mingyu… babe," the foreign word makes Mingyu beam even harder at you. "Seungcheol is actually my mother's bodyguard, but moreso like the older brother I've never had. He's the only man that can put up with my mother and her incessant bullsh—"

Seungcheol corrects, "We've been family friends for a long time, she means to say." The patronizing tone in his voice makes you hide a scoff at his correction, "(y/n), how long have you and Mingi been together?"

Your boyfriend cuts in, "it's Mingyu."

"We've been together a couple months," you answer, counting your fingers and looking at Mingyu.

"Six months this weekend to be exact." Mingyu spits out with a proud tone, wrapping his hand around yours and letting them rest on your shoulder in plain sight. "(y/n)'s been working so hard, I planned for us to go out of town for a short vacation. I hear the beaches have been beautiful as of late."

"Happy anniversary to you two," Seungcheol cheers tensely, his lips pulled into that one fake smile that you can recognize from a mile away. He fills the awkward gap with a glance at his phone, his eyes reading over a text message followed by missed call notifications, "if you excuse me, Jeonghan and Joshua are looking for me."

"Well," you unwrap your hand from Mingyu's. "See you Seungcheol. Tell them I say hello, my mother included." You add begrudgingly.

"I’ll see you, (y/n)." Seungcheol gives you a brief hug, whispering you're always welcome back home in your ear before locking eyes with your boyfriend,  "Mingyu… nice to meet you."

As you step back into Mingyu's side, he returns a satisfied smirk to Seungcheol and raises his drink to him, "Seungcheol, it was a pleasure meeting you."

The moment he leaves your presence and walks outside of the bar, you untangle yourself from Mingyu's arms, a million thoughts in your head cascading all at once until you blurt out, "What was all that?"

"You asked me to be your boyfriend and I did it," Mingyu quips easily, "happy?"

"I actually am, thank you." You study his actions as he takes his glass and moves to a barstool at the counter, waving to the bartender for a round of shots for your co-workers in the corner. He acts normal this time, acting as if you and him weren't just all cuddled up with his arms and hands around you and calling you 'his girl.'

The juxtaposition is mind-boggling to say the least, but you have to ask, "why help me?"

"(y/n), we're co-workers. We help each other everyday, and tonight was no different. Your friend, mom's bodyguard, whatever he is—he was being a complete ass to you. I heard him talk to you; you don't disrespect someone's work or guilt them about their life choices, that's rude."

"Aw, look at you! All riled up, defending my honor. You should tell that to my mother, she’s always going on about me and my life choices," you muse out loud, a warm feeling spreading from your chest—was that the alcohol? "Who knew Kim Mingyu could transform into a knight in shining armor on command?"

Mingyu turns to you, "that and I know I'll never hear the end of it if I didn't help you and play along to fool Seunghyun."

"Seungcheol, his name is Seungcheol."

"I won't have to see him ever again, so what difference does it make?" Mingyu chortles, raising his beer to you. "Cheers, to the shortest, best fake relationship you've ever had."

You scoff at the sentiment but pause to clink your drink against his, "should I be offended?" You roll your eyes as he doesn't answer, waiting patiently for you, "fine, cheers."

~

"(y/n), baby, hi! It's your mother again. Answer the phone, as soon as you can. Seungcheol told me that he ran into you and he met your lovely boyfriend! Since when did you start dating again? And who is this man, Mingi? Mingyu? Minseok? I was getting worried when you stopped going on the dates I set up for you… Call me back."

~

Days pass by after your encounter with Seungcheol at the bar and your one time fling of asking Mingyu to be your boyfriend, and everything is normal. Lessons fly by, the children are more chaotic with every passing day, and you're wondering why lunch breaks can't be any longer.

Another fine day passes by when Mingyu's walking home to his apartment, carrying a pack of beers, essays to grade, and a fresh order of chicken for himself when a suited man stands in the middle of the sidewalk, halting him just before the entrance of his apartment. His dark brown eyes and icy stare slowly become familiar to him, the closer he gets to the blockade. "Uh, excuse me? May I pass through? I live here."

"Kim Mingyu, remember me?" The mystery man's brown eyes glare a deep, deep hole into Mingyu's brain and suddenly a laugh escapes his lips.

"Seunghyun, right? I met you at that bar not too long ago. You're (y/n)'s family friend, the bodyguard."

"It’s Seungcheol," he emphasizes with disdain, rolling his eyes at him, "and I have someone very important to introduce you to."

"So you’re the man dating my daughter." An eerily, eloquent figure rises from the bench next to Mingyu, a stern expression gracing her red lips while her neck and ears decorated with sparkling diamonds. Her eyes and nose are reminiscent of your own, leading Mingyu to the fact that this was your mother with the incessant, patronizing remarks and the endless string of blind dates set for you.

Mingyu nods just as she starts making a circle around him, coldly studying him with her lips in a thin, permanent line, "Kim Mingyu. Twenty-six years old. Elementary literature teacher alongside my daughter at the same institution. Graduated from university with top marks and honors. Spends his money buying his weight in food and yet he looks… lanky and unrefined. Resides alone at the same address for four years now?"

"Five years, actually." He mutters, gripping on to his bags tighter.

She clicks her tongue at him, her eagle eyes peering into his soul so deceitfully, "even though you seem to be a man of... tall stature and intelligence, I won't have you seeing my daughter. She deserves someone of her own status, her own class."

"Since when did you dictate (y/n)’s life?" Mingyu refutes, "(y/n) is her own person, she’s the only person who can make the choice to see me again, not you."

Your mother frowns before her lips curl into a cunning smirk, "what if I offered you something for your troubles? You could venture far and wide with this…" She pulls out a thick envelope from her purse and offers it to Mingyu, "like move out of this building? Out of this district? I wouldn't normally set the bar so high, but then again, it seems like you need it."

Mingyu curiously snatches the envelope from her hand, peeking past the flap to see a huge stack of crisp, clean bills. His eyes go wide at the sight of so much money in his hands alone, "oh—this is, this has to be more than a thousand."

"It's five to be exact." Your mother says unimpressively, "five hundred-thousand." Mingyu's eyes nearly fall out of their sockets as he drops the envelope, the stark white envelope falling from his hands and standing out against the gravel of the sidewalk.

"It's all yours if you agree to stay away from my daughter and never see her again." She callously smiles, the corners of lips raising a single inch.

Mingyu stares at the envelope with indignation, pure disbelief running through his mind. "You can't pay me to stay away from your daughter," he incredulously spits out as your mother's faux smile drops. "I-I'm in love with her and nothing you do or say is going to make me stop seeing her."

He can't believe the words coming from his own lips, but the charade must continue on.

At least your mother believes his bluff, because if his own mother had the very same expression yours did right now, he'd be on his knees repenting for his mistakes with a red mark on his cheek.

"You can't be serious."

"You can't be serious! What kind of mother pays to get rid of her daughter's boyfriend?" Mingyu rebukes, storming off past your mother and Seungcheol and up the steps to his apartment. He's alone listening to the quiet mechanisms of the elevator before thinking about what exactly just happened. "What in the world—"

txt msg to < (y/n) >

hey girlfriend

we need to talk

I met your mother

txt msg from < (y/n) >

huh?

can this wait till tomorrow?

wait my mother?

like MY ACTUAL MOTHER??

txt msg to < (y/n) >

tmrw at lunch

yes

my future mother in law

~

"(l/n) (y/n), pick up this phone right now. A teacher? Not a professor or a doctor? (y/n) please, did you not remember what I told you? And you work with him too? It is unprofessional and inappropriate to have a lover in the workplace. Answer me when you get this. Also, I set up a date for you this Sunday afternoon with Mr. and Mrs. Seo's son, Johnny! He's visiting from the States and he runs his own business! It's a Fortune 500 company so it's definitely reputable! Don't stand this one up."

~

"I'd be lying to you right now if I said I didn't see this coming." You mumble as you take a bite of your lunch, Mingyu sitting across you with crossed arms.

"You what? You knew she was going to do this?" He incredulously shouts, lowering his voice when the other teachers shush him. Lunchtime was the one time where all the faculty could get away from the loud commotion of their students. "She's crazy."

You glare at Mingyu slightly and he murmurs an apology, "sorry—she's kinda crazy."

"I didn't think she'd actually do it, it's been months since she's shown up in my life."

"What kind of mother does that?"

"She's done it before, and it worked on a couple of my past relationships." You sigh half-heartedly. Mingyu's temper flares at the mere thought of men—no, boys—who chose money over you. "I wouldn't put it past her to throw money at any problem or obstacle in her way again."

"She researched me too, she knew how old I was, my job, how long I've lived in the same building. How?"

"What can I say? My mother does her research." You swivel your spoon in your bowl before looking up at Mingyu. "She's the type of person who will not stop once she sets her sights on what she wants, especially if it concerns me. She hovers and nags and annoys you till you're frustrated and you give into what she wants."

"Oh, she's going to nag me to death? What fun." He deadpans, but when you don't laugh at his joke, he apologizes again.

"Mingyu, it's not funny. It's my life that's at stake here."

"The only thing at stake right now is our peace of mind," he glances at the clock on the wall, "which we only have ten minutes of until we have to go back to our classrooms and start lessons again. Just… when you're here at school, nothing else matters, alright? It's just you and the kids and… math." You giggle at his attempts of comforting words. "When the bell rings and classes are over, you can deal with the outside world, ok?"

"Isn't this just me pushing my problems away and avoiding them?"

"Nope," he quips with a wink. "This is you concentrating on one problem at a time, as it just so happens. Think of it as one of your worksheets: you have a whole sheet of math problems, right? You can't half-solve one problem and then go back to it, you have to focus and finish that one equation before moving onto the next. Simple."

You stifle a laugh as he leans back, his face in a grin over his smart thinking. "Actually, you can half-solve a problem and then go back to it. It's called being stuck, Mr. Kim."

"Well let's think of ways to get you unstuck then, Ms. (l/n)."

"Me unstuck? Mr. Kim, we are in a public place, mind you!" You exclaim in false shock, just as your co-workers Joohyun and Sooyoung from the science department stroll past your table.

"What? No, I-I mean—" Mingyu gives up when he notices their appalled expression and he groans, "I can't win, can I?"

"Nope," you remark with a wink, matching his same tone as before. "Better hurry Mr. Kim, you have five minutes left before your peace of mind is at stake."

~

"(y/n)! Pick up the phone! Don't ignore your mother. I was visiting your neighborhood and stopped by your apartment, but you weren't home. I'll be in town till Sunday—you'll be home Saturday, right? Don't tell me you're seriously dating that, that teacher from your work! (y/n), please he's… a stick and there's something wrong with his head... If you're wanting to see someone, I set up a date with Dr. Park's son, Jinyoung for you! You remember him, right? He used to go by Junior when you two were younger? Tall, handsome, and he's a doctor too! Call me back."

~

"Hello, my darling girlfriend." Mingyu emphasizes with a saccharinely sweet tone, setting his lunch bag next to you in the staff room. He pulls out the chair right next to yours and stretches in his seat. "What's for lunch?"

"Morning, Kim Mingyu." When Mingyu gives you a look, you roll your eyes. "Morning, my handsome boyfriend." He beams at you at the title while you shake your head. "All I'm eating today is this apple." You solemnly hold up a bright green apple in your hands before rubbing your head. "I barely woke up on time today, so I grabbed an apple on the way out."

"Take some of mine," he pulls out his prepped side dishes and nudges them over to you, offering you his fork. "Go ahead, (y/n). I have more than enough food." You frown as he pushes the dish towards you again. "Save some for me, yeah? Don't act so eager now."

You smile and give in, taking a bite of one of the dishes, "my knight in shining armor strikes again. How could I ever repay you?"

"Feed me?" He opens his mouth and you shovel a big bite of his food on the fork, aiming the fork towards his mouth but immediately redirecting it towards you and into your mouth.

"In your dreams," you say with the mouthful. Mingyu hides his smile and rolls his eyes at your childish nature before jumping into his half of his lunch. You two eat in peaceful silence as more teachers enter the staff room, complaining and conversing about the children and their antics.

"So my mother called me last night and left me a voicemail, she even remembered you!" You announce with a smirk, "not by name, but as 'that, that teacher from your work.'" You copy your mother's tone of voice and straighten your posture to embody her completely.

"I upgraded from being your inappropriate, unprofessional lover to 'that teacher,' not that bad in a week's work."

"She's still not keen on the idea of me dating you."

"I don't get it. Any mother would be happy—ecstatic even, for me to date their daughter!" He grumbles, "I’m tall, handsome, considerate, I can cook, I clean after myself, I work with children on a day to day basis—what’s so wrong about me dating you? I'm the whole package… am I not?"

"Are you a doctor, lawyer, or CEO of a multi-million dollar company? Or do you come from old money?" You ask although instantly knowing the answer, "you’re not from… money, Mingyu. That’s why my mother doesn't approve of you—or of any guy I choose to date."

You pause to think of the other reasons your mother mentioned in the voicemail, "and she said you're too like a stick, and something's off about your head."

"What?" Mingyu's cutlery rattles against the table, "my head is perfectly shaped, and I'm not a stick, thank you very much! I have muscles, I'm fit and in shape!"

You hide your snickers using a napkin to cover your mouth, glancing around the room to see Joohyun and Sooyoung from the science department raise their eyebrows at Mingyu.

He sits back down slowly and lowers his head in his lunch, mumbling under his breath, "my head is perfectly fine."

You try to suppress the smile on your face as Mingyu angrily pouts at you, patting his arm gently, "mhmm, your head is perfectly fine, yes."

~

"(y/n), it's Seungcheol. I'm warning you that your mom and I are at your apartment again. I know she said she was leaving last night but it's just to make sure you're home. She refuses to leave the town until she sees you in person. Call me back when you get this... Also, are you going to Joshua's wedding? Maybe we could carpool? Or meet up? Just as old friends... call me."

~

It's late and Mingyu's tiredly grading homework assignments when there's a knock on his apartment door, his face showing pure confusion when he sees you on the other side.

You're taken aback by how natural Mingyu looks, how plainly he looks in house clothes and yet he's still just as… handsome? "Uh hi, can I come in?"

"I don't think I have anywhere else to go tonight, except here." You pout, "I know Seungcheol and my mother are still at my apartment right now and I don't want to deal with all that. Not tonight."

Mingyu nods and opens the door wider for you to enter. "This is a cute set up."

"It's not cute, (y/n). It's simple." He emphasizes, his arms sweeping over the studio apartment's monochrome theme.

"It's both cute and simple." You tease with a grin, removing your shoes and coat respectfully by the door. "Were you grading essays?"

"Yeah, but not anymore." He tucks the papers into his work folder and takes off his glasses. "Take my bed, I'll be on the couch."

Your eyes widen at the request, glancing at the length of the couch and then back at Mingyu. "No, I couldn't—"

There's a tired rasp in his voice, "(y/n), my apartment, my rules. Just take the bed."

You shift in direction of his neatly, folded bed and set your bag next to his nightstand, "also I know beggars can't be choosers, but do you have an extra shi—" An extra t-shirt and sweatpants land on the bottom of the bed as Mingyu heads to the bathroom with a wink.

"If you wanted to get into my pants, (y/n), you could have said so." He shuts the door as soon as he says it, leaving you no time to come up with a reply back. Not that you could come up with a comeback with your face all tinged pink.

He exits the bathroom and heads to the couch, settling himself under a spare blanket. "Good night, (y/n)." Mingyu turns on the couch and faces the cushions, his knees awkwardly bent in order to fit on the furniture and under his blanket.

"Good night, Mingyu."

There's silence in the apartment, save for the ticking of the clock and your tossing and turning in Mingyu's bed, his pillows and mattress crinkling with your every motion. Mingyu holds in the urge to turn to stop the couch springs from sounding so he lets out a fake snore in place of it.

"Wow, for a moment that sounded really realistic." You comment out loud and Mingyu lets out a huff before stretching out his legs, his ankles dangling off the couch's arm. "Are you sure you don't want your bed?"

He lets out another fake snore that's louder than the first.

"You know, you’re eerily good at that?" Mingyu grunts in confusion and you elaborate, "acting, playing pretend, faking stuff. You really didn't have to pretend to be my boyfriend that night."

"Yeah, that wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to pretend to be someone’s boyfriend."

"Oh my goodness," you tsk disapprovingly as you sit up in his bed. "Kim Mingyu—you're a professional heartbreaker, aren't you? I should have known."

He turns on the couch to face in your direction, "and yet, you're still here, coming back for more." You can imagine Mingyu's wink aimed directly at you even in the dark.

"Oh shut up." You toss one of his pillows at him from across the space, "I knew I should have asked Wonwoo or Seokmin to be my boyfriend, not you. Maybe they'd be a better fake boyfriend."

"Hey! I'm a way better fake boyfriend—I'm letting you take my bed and my clothes! You'd be sneezing if you were in Wonwoo's apartment because of his cats and Seokmin would be too loud for you."

"How did you remember I was allergic to cats?" You remember bringing it up once early on in the school year, before you even were close as colleagues and friends with Mingyu. It was for an icebreaker at a summer staff gathering to integrate the new faculty (one of which was yourself) with the current roster. 

That was over years ago and yet he remembered?

Mingyu hesitates, "I have a good memory."

You stare up at the ceiling and tap your fingers on the bed. "So Mingyu… what are you doing at the end of the month? More specifically on the last Saturday of the month?"

"It's not like I have that much planned ahead, so nothing right now. Why?"

"Uh, would you mind being my plus one to my friend's wedding? It's okay if not, I—"

"Yeah, I'd love to. I-I mean, no I don't mind." He stammers, shocked at his own clumsy response to you. He's a literature teacher for crying out loud—he was supposed to be good with words at the very least.

"Is Seungcheol going to be there? Isn't that the wedding you two were talking about the first time around?"

Damn his good memory, you frown. "I think so. He asked me if I wanted to carpool with him and be his date—I mean, plus one, but I'd rather not."

Why?

Mingyu admits it's too vague of a question to ask you, so he settles for something more specific. "You don't feel anything for Seungcheol, do you?" Mingyu carefully says, "like, you don't have feelings for him, right?"

"What? No no no," you sit up, vehemently shaking your head as if to explain yourself to him even though it's dark. "Seungcheol? No, I don't have any feelings for him."

"Like at all?"

You echo, "like at all. I don't really see him that way. He’s been my friend for so long, and I-I just don’t think of him in that light."

"He's not some ex-boyfriend, is he? Your mom hasn't tried setting you up with him?"

You fidget with the covers, tugging them close to your chin and inhaling the smell of the blanket. "No, you and Seungcheol are similar in that way, but with him, she wouldn't oppose it per say, but she'd rather me be with someone else."

"Who would you want to be with? Per say?"

There's a slight pause before you answer his question with another question, "Mingyu, are you asking me for my type?"

"Maybe," he hums.

"You just want me to say that you're my type, don't you?" You squint through the darkness to try and read him, but it's no use.

"If that's how you feel, then I wouldn't be upset." He responds cheekily, "are you saying I'm your type then?"

"Am I your type?"

"You can't keep answering my questions with more questions, (y/n)."

You flop back into the bed, dragging the blankets over your head. "Fine… what if I said yes?"

"That's still a question." Mingyu chimes.

"You didn't answer mine either!" You fight back, your voice muffled under the weight of the blankets. You lay there for what feels like ages, waiting for Mingyu's response but hearing nothing at all.

Maybe he actually fell asleep this time, you think, curling into a small ball and turning on your side.

"Yes." His voice is barely above a whisper, making you throw the blankets off yourself to ensure you heard him right. Mingyu clears his throat nervously, "what's yours?"

"So I'm Kim Mingyu's type, huh?" You muse out loud, just as he scoffs.

"You're doing it again."

"Good night Mingyu," you sing with a smile just as he complains again.

~

"(y/n). It's Seungcheol again… this time your mother and I left the city so you're fine to go back. Where have you been if you haven't been at your apartment for two weeks? Nearly three? Don't tell me you're living with what's his name, your mother's gonna have a heart attack if you are. She's already in denial after the PI's gave her the photos of you and him walking around and having dinner and going to his apartment building. See you at the wedding, I bet you're gonna look beautiful."

~

"(y/n)?"

You’re asleep on top of a mountain of papers on your desk, your arms neatly folded on top of the worksheets and tests you’re supposed to be grading. Your hair falls over your face and Mingyu delicately shifts the strands to see your closed eyes and rosy lips letting out a snore every minute or so.

He taps on your shoulder repeatedly before gently nudging you, successfully waking you, "(y/n)? Need help?"

"No, it’s fine." Your mind is still groggy and bogged down and you feel your dry eyes grasping for another minute of sleep. "I just need to go through these papers and grade them."

He chuckles at the sight of you closing your eyes for a single minute of sleep before haphazardly rising up and shaking your head. You blindly grab for your red pen and unclip the stack of papers, separating them by class period. The sound of a chair screeching against the linoleum startles you as you look up and see Mingyu drag a chair next to your desk.

"So, what do I need to look for?" Mingyu’s glasses are perched on his nose and his hand is clutching a red pen and you can’t help but fawn over the sight before you.

The dark night sky bleeds into the sunset as you and Mingyu grade your students’ worksheets, going through one period and onto another as the literature teacher asks you question after question to stifle the quiet.

"Why did you want to become a teacher?"

You rest the end of your pen between your teeth, biting it slightly, "why did you?" You volley back to him.

He quips childishly, "no answering questions with questions, remember?"

You smile before writing a letter grade at the top of the page. "Well, you may think this is very petty and cynical of me, but originally chose to become a teacher to spite my mother." Your pen rattles on the paper as you comment to study the times tables harder. "I told you how much money and financial security meant to her, and so she set me on the path to become a lawyer, to get my undergrad and then rush to law school to make money."

You set the pen and paper down on the table before standing up, stretching your limbs and circling around your desk as Mingyu stops grading to listen.

"But I didn’t want that, so I changed my major and completed a degree in education. All without her knowing until the very day I graduated. I chose this profession because helping children—as much as it wants to tear my hair out sometimes—it makes me happy, I'm happy to be teaching the next generation and making a decent pay out of it."

He sits against the edge of your desk next to you, rattling his red pen in between his fingers, "isn't it tiring? To keep on this petty fight with your mother? I mean, doesn't she just want what's best for you?"

You answer without hesitation, "yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes. It is tiring to fight my mother and yes, she does want the best for me." You murmur lightly, "but if I don't fight her, she will turn me into someone I'm not—she'll turn me into everything she would have wanted, all her hopes and dreams in a picture perfect daughter. A trophy wife on the arm of some rich man—but that's not my dream. I don't want to become some doll or a replica of her, I want to be my own person, and make my own way in life and fall in love and marry whoever I want—even if he's dirt poor and a fool."

"Well, as the lowly fool with a couple dollars to his name posing as your boyfriend, I think you're doing a great job." Mingyu nudges your arm tenderly.

"Hey, you're not some lowly fool… you're just a fool." Mingyu pretends to cry and faint at the revelation, falling on your shoulder, "I'm joking! Kim Mingyu, don't pull this with me! I was joking!"

Mingyu continues to fake cry on your shoulder as you playfully nudge him off, not feeling his head bob up and down until you feel him hit your shoulder. Mingyu immediately yelps in pain and you begin fretting over him, "Oh! Mingyu! I'm so sorry! Are you okay? I—"

"I'm f-fine. I don't think I'm bleeding, or am I?" You stand in front of Mingyu and have him carefully move his hands from his face but the moment he removes his hands, he grins without a speck of blood on him, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you from the ground. "Ha!"

"Kim Mingyu! You can't do that, put me down!" You sulk with a huff, a laugh escaping your lips as he twirls you around on his shoulder. After enough attempts of you hitting his back and cursing his name, he carefully sets you back down, his hands still on your hips and eyes locked on yours.

Your heart's beating so loud in your ears as you're stuck in place, entranced by the fragility of the moment, of how close you two are together. Your first thought is that he smells good, that he smells like clean soap, like laundry fresh and hot out of the dryer. His warmth radiates off his skin and wraps you up in your arms, pushing out the cold chill in the room and out the door.

It's warm—you're warm and content but you can't help but think that you shouldn't be doing this. Everything between you and Mingyu is supposed to be fake—from the dates around the city to the dinners to hiding out and staying over at his apartment for days on end to your daily lunches to your feelings.

You weren't supposed to fall for him, not like this—not when the lines are so blurred and muddled to the point you can't tell fiction from reality.

You should have known this was a terrible idea.

"Mingyu, I—" you don't finish your sentence as Mingyu's lips covers yours, the soft skin pressing against your own with passion and fervor as his hands wrap themselves around your waist. You're in pure shock—frozen in place as he kisses you and you can't help but have a million thoughts racing in your head, all fighting and arguing on what to do.

He realizes you're frozen in place and detangles himself as if you're an all-consuming fire. The hurt is evident on his face, the classroom's white lights reflecting the glassy stare in his eyes. "(y/n)... I thought—never mind." Mingyu quickly takes his jacket and bag and races out of the room, his footsteps fading away towards the exits. You're left all alone in the classroom as you crumple to the floor, leaning against your desk still just as shell-shocked as before and your heart now in shambles.

~

"(y/n), it's Seungcheol… I know that I'm the last person you want to see or talk to… but I'm grateful we caught up at Joshua's wedding together. Being with you there felt… nice, I was happy to be there with someone I knew for a long time, someone I cared deeply for. I shouldn't have tried what I did… I apologize for that and I promise to never try that again for as long as we remain friends… I hope you can forgive my actions and accept my apology… and (y/n), I wish you the best, with him, without him, in whatever you do."

~

"Thank goodness today is Friday!" Seungkwan shouts with a blissful sigh, wrapping his hands behind his head with a wide grin. "The kids were so active during music lessons!"

"Easy for you to say. Half of the children fell asleep during literature lessons in the morning. Try talking to snoring kids for an hour." Mingyu mumbles, weakly mixing his soup with his spoon. He's thisclose to becoming one of his own students in his literature class as he listens to Seungkwan and Seokmin drone on about their children in the music classes.

He couldn't catch a single second of sleep knowing he was bound to see you today. Mingyu's done all he could to avoid you, from waking up early to staying out late to not be home when you come around, to leaving all of your messages unopened, to not returning your calls, he's done so much.

He couldn't avoid you here though.

"At least they're quiet and not banging on the drums or beating a tamborine till it's broken or screaming the words out loud," Seokmin notes. "You're lucky, Mingyu. You get the kids to read and write out whatever their imagination desires."

The door suddenly opens and there's a noise Mingyu instantly recognizes: your laugh.

"You won't believe the mess that Lee Youngjoon caused today in class today." You follow Chungha into the staff room and set down your lunch next to hers, just as she pulls a chair at the same table with Mingyu and the guys. "He nearly incited a riot during art class and started a paint war against the girls in the classroom! Why are children so rowdy these days? Did I even mention he started it because of his crush on Kim Miso? Seriously!"

Seokmin helps pick out dried paint in Chungha's hair with a shrug, "well, it's an age old matter that boys pick on girls because they like them and they don't know how to express that."

"Mhmm," you agree, sneaking a glance at Mingyu as you open your lunch box, "maybe it's because boys don't know how to… communicate their feelings properly, so they just act rashly instead."

Mingyu raises an eyebrow, catching your stare, "oh I don't think it's that boys don't know how to communicate their feelings. They do, they do it all the time; I mean, actions speak louder than words."

"All the time now, huh?" You quip with curiosity. "Then what's the point of words if actions are supposedly enough? Words still matter. Do they not, mister literature teacher?"

He chuckles at your callout, "no you're right, words do matter. But the problem is that some words make everything too real and some people are scared of that reality… or might not even want it and act like they do. You can pretend all you want and do what you want, but at the end of the day, don't you want something real? Wouldn't you want to risk it for a chance at something like that?"

You realize the weight of his words and hold back the urge to yell everything on your mind at him in front of the entire staffing of your school behind you, "yeah, that'd be nice."

"Wise words, Kim Mingyu, but how does this relate back to the children?" Chungha cries, almost in hysterics thinking of her classroom. Your eyes lock on him before you shift your gaze to the clock at the front of the room, watching the time slip by with every second. "I'm going back to my classroom, if anyone wants to help me clean, let me know."

"I'm going back to my classroom too." Mingyu packs his lunch away and rises from the table, avoiding your eyes and giving a tight smile to his friends.

You watch him leave the room before cleaning up your barely touched lunch, glancing at the time before rushing down the hall to the literature teacher's classroom, knocking on the door panel lightly.

"Mingyu, I want to talk to you."

"Well, I'm here," he grunts as he lifts stacks of textbooks from one side of the room to the other. You internally punch yourself as you blatantly stare at his arms, his stupid muscles contracting under the weight of the sets. "I'm listening."

"Are you really?" You pose back, watching him stride back and forth with the books as you lean in the doorway. He gives you a look and you listen to yourself, "okay, yes that was a terrible question. Umm, so I know I have a lot to explain—"

He stops, "I'm not asking you for an explanation. You don't owe me anything, (y/n). "

"I don't but I want to explain myself—I have a right to explain myself, don't I?"

He sets down the most recent stack of books on his desk and circles around to his chair, "you have ten minutes, before—"

"Your peace of mind is at stake, yeah yeah." You finish for him with a roll of your eyes, making him break his tough demeanor. You pause as he waits for you to begin, but you honestly didn't think you'd get this far. "I… you, uh—how do I even begin this?" You sigh, turning to the side and staring at the classroom's blank chalkboard.

"Okay, here!" You take hold of one of the chalk pieces and start writing down your name, Mingyu, Seungcheol, and your mother's names on the board, all in different corners. "Don't laugh." Mingyu hides his smile behind his hand as you write by the names.

"(y/n): teacher, daughter, Kim Mingyu's type, allergic to cats. Mom: mother, too much, desperately doesn't want (y/n) to be poor and alone. Seungcheol: bodyguard, older brother, too much #2, good intentions? And lastly, Mingyu: professional heartbreaker and expert level actor, teacher, (y/n)'s boyfriend?"

Mingyu's fingers tap on the desk impatiently, "(y/n), can you please get to the point—"

"Shhhh." You sternly quiet him with a pointed look, tapping on the chalkboard loudly. You quickly run through the story of your life, starting with your friendship with Seungcheol, your mother's endless string of blind dates, the rift of not contacting your mother for months, the night you recruited Mingyu to be your boyfriend, the dates, the lunches, the dinners, everything in between right to the moment Mingyu kissed you in your classroom.

"...and then you kissed me, and I didn't know what to do or say exactly because I was confused—none of this was to actually happen! I wasn't expecting any of it and because I didn't do or say anything, you left and started avoiding me." You circle Mingyu's name over and over again, the white chalk wearing thin. "You and I were supposed to go to Joshua's wedding that weekend, but with you avoiding me, I ended up going by myself and running into—"

"Seungcheol." Mingyu answers for you, a sour frown on his face at the sound of his name. "He kept asking you to be his date."

"His plus one."

"There's a difference." He gripes with contempt, his lower lip jutted out in annoyance.

"There is no difference," you huff, rolling your eyes at his impatient behavior and clutching an eraser in your hand. "Because he kissed me too and I didn't do anything about it."

"He what?" Mingyu rises from his seat furiously. "He kissed you? And you didn't do anything about it either? Why?"

"Why? Are you jealous?"

"Yes I am jealous." He confesses proudly, once again catching you off-guard.

"When Seungcheol kissed me, I realized a couple things." Mingyu's attention stays completely on you as you wipe Seungcheol and your mother's name from the chalkboard, "one, that weddings are not that fun when you're single and wishing you were there with your boyfriend... or is it your fake boyfriend? Or maybe it’s the guy who started off as your co-worker and then fake boyfriend and then you slowly realized that you wanted him to be your actual, real life boyfriend, regardless of what your mother thinks of him and his oddly shaped head."

Mingyu circles around you as you set down the eraser on the chalkboard's ledge, "and two, I realized that I should have done this the first time someone kissed me."

You grab Mingyu by the collar of his shirt and pull him to you, closing your eyes and pushing your lips to his messily. He tenses up from the sudden action but slowly melts into you, moving his lips against yours slowly and wrapping his arms around you.

The lunch bell rings over the intercom and you can hear the school doors open, the sound of shoes running against the linoleum squeaking and echoing in the hallway. You pull yourself away from Mingyu and bite your lip when you realize lunch is over.

"There goes our peace of mind."

"I think I found mine right here." He smiles into you, leaning in for another kiss whilst still wrapped in his arms.

.

[silverostro]

EMBERS TASK // LETTERS​

sent and unsent letters to: @othcrhalf, @honimoore, @ncllysnge, @swannscngs, @sinksand, @digitalrcge, @dawnhardn, @blythefm, @hovergrove

we put down in writing what is happening in our minds once it’s on the paper we feel better, we feel better it’s like some kind of clarity when the letter’s done and signed

to robyn, sent before the 74th hunger games 

Robyn,

I know how much you hate the very thought of receiving a letter, yet alone writing a response, but unfortunately you’ve humored me enough that it’s habit to think of you when I sit to write. Old-fashioned, perhaps, but also safer. And there’s something about the act that brings honesty that’s more difficult to offer face to face, or over telecom even, if you’ll forgive a moment of vulnerability.

This letter is out of character, to be completely honest. I apologize that you won’t find the usual ranting and raving about my work, or any of the indifference that I know you adore so much from me. I’m certain you’ll miss it this once, but I promise we’ll be back to normal soon enough. If it helps, you’re welcome to include a few comments speculating on what will surely be another silver monstrosity I’m forced into for this year’s Games. Bacchus is hard at work as we speak, unfortunately.

But I digress.

Something about this year feels different. I know you understand that well, in a way that even I can’t fathom, and wish I had some way to ease. I’ve found myself considering this unease, this restlessness, and it took me far too long to realize what it is, selfishly, in my case.

I’ve never liked celebrating my birthday. The first birthday I still have memories of is my eighteenth; it was only a few days after I woke as a victor, all of my other memories distorted or gone. Ironic, isn’t it? A birthday I had been convinced a week earlier that I wouldn’t live to see, a thought I had made peace with the moment my name was drawn from that bowl, fate sealed, the first I still have memories of now. 

I’ve been wrong more often than I would admit to most anyone else, but just this once I’ll admit it to you, Robyn.

This year’s birthday is...strange. They’re always strange, but they’re easy to overlook. In the wake of victories that are rarely Three’s, it’s easy to slip into the background. But I haven’t been able to stop my thoughts from lingering on how strange it is to be here at all. Forty. Horrifying, isn’t that? I should be pleased. I should be grateful to have lasted so long when I believed I wouldn’t live to see eighteen. And yet, in the quiet moments of the night, when it’s more difficult to fill the blank spaces in my life with work, such simply human needs as sleep making it impossible not to reflect. (Yes, even I need sleep, sometimes.) I can’t help but feel I haven’t done nearly what I should have with all of these unexpected years, though. Does that make sense?

I look around around my workroom, my home, the quiet almost eerie, if I wasn’t so used to it after so many years, and I realize that I’ve spent so much time in my own bruised mind, that I’m a little more than alone. Used to something no one should be used to. A circumstance of my own making. There aren’t many memories left of my parents, but the few I have, I remember the way they told me it was better to keep my head down, keep a distance from the world for my own safety. In the absence of their guidance, anyone’s guidance, I took those words to heart, and I did them well. But I have no one to blame but myself. I thought I wanted this, I thought distance would benefit me, but now? I’m not so certain it does. 

I can only assume that your own birthday is something a little strange now, too. And I’m sorry for that. But I’m glad you’re still here.

All this to say, perhaps when I’m back in the Capitol, we could celebrate. Nothing wild, I’m much too old for that now, but... a drink or two? I think we could both use the distraction.

I’ll only accept your RSVP in writing...

Yours, Silver

to perri, sent shortly after the 66th hunger games

Perri,

A call would probably be easier, I’m well aware, but I can’t shake this paranoia lately, and the very real feeling that the static might crowd my mind and cause me to forget all I have to say, if I don’t put pen to paper. I know you understand.

I’d rather not give anyone a reason to keep a closer eye on me, or Three than they already have.

But it feels strange, not to be alone in victory any longer. 

I should be grateful that for the first time one of the children put in my care against my will survived, but I’ve found it difficult to feel that way. Of course, I’m glad that she survived––I wish desperately she wasn’t the first in my years of mentoring to do so––but from what I’ve seen already of how the Capitol is going to treat her, this outcome feels just as horrible, in an entirely different way. I know I shouldn’t think like that. It’s cruel, and perhaps it’s selfish, too, in a way, because in survival there’s guilt. She didn’t survive because of anything I did; I haven’t made a real effort beyond the bare minimum since my first few years mentoring. I’m certain she realized that I thought she wouldn’t make it out of that arena. 

Now there’s a reminder of my failures standing by my side. Now we’ll have to stand there together and watch children die year after year.

It’s not the same, but there are twisted parallels here that I have no desire to accept, but have somehow only fully realized now that Three has another victor. Parenthood and mentorship. Sometimes both as unwanted, and unasked for as the other. I don’t know how you do it, how you do both, when either alone is hard enough. This feeling of responsibility for another’s well being is terrifying. And I feel an immense amount of guilt for not allowing myself to see it that way until this year.

Could I have helped any of the others survive if I had tried harder? Would that have been dooming them to an even worse fate, if I did?

Am I cruel, for thinking this way? I can’t even tell anymore. It’s been too long, I have no sense of what’s normal any longer, if I did at all even before my own victory. 

I’ll see you soon enough. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to go on a Victory Tour, I’m not sure I remember how it’s done. But I’m glad for the excuse to see you and Sage. Perhaps I can convince our watchers to let us have dinner with you. I have a feeling you would get along well with Digit, she reminds me a little of you when we first met all those years ago. Perhaps you can give her understanding that I haven’t been able to find yet.

Give Sage my love, as always. And I suppose you can have some of it for yourself, too.

Yours, Silver

to nelly, sent after the 70th hunger games

Dear Nelly, 

You mentioned your newest set of stationary the last time we ran into each other, so I thought I might give you an excuse to test it out, in case you’re not waiting on any other replies at the moment. (Although I’m certain you have much more interesting letters waiting for you than mine.)

I hope you’re doing as well as anyone can, in between Games. I realized, as I sat down to begin this letter, that I’m not actually entirely certain what the life of an escort is like outside of the little I hear from ours. In fact, it’s rare that I see much of the Capitol at all outside of the bustle of the Games, usually sequestered in a windowless room in some high rise to do work when I am asked to come in during the off season.

Do you spend your time planning for whatever might come during the next Games, or are you allowed a few months of rest from responsibility? It says something that I can’t tell if the idea of rest sounds appealing or horrifying. Only I suppose it’s hard for me to imagine what life in the Capitol must be like, or even just a life without my days filled with work, no room to think of much else.

Although, that’s not quite true, is it? I’ve found enough time without work to write. Oh, and I apologize if this is utterly illegible. Years of making notes only for myself or my assistants’ interpretation has led to rather awful handwriting. Perhaps you can offer me some pointers, that seems like the sort of thing you would be an expert at, perfect handwriting.

Anyway, I could go on about what I’m currently working on, but I won’t bore you with those details, when I’ve done enough rambling as it is. 

It seems that work is going to bring me to the Capitol for a few days in a week or two, perhaps I’ll see you at one of the parties they inevitably ask me to attend while there. The possibility of a friendly face at one of those events is always something to look forward to, at least.

In the meantime, take care of yourself, Nelly, you deserve a break.

Warmly, Silver

to swann, sent before the 72nd hunger games

Swann,

I hope I’m not being too presumptuous in writing to you. I know there’s no need for a letter, a call, at the very most, would have sufficed, if not simply a silent acknowledgement the next time we both find ourselves forced to attend a Capitol celebration. But something compelled me to do so anyway. 

Perhaps it’s because understanding is such a rarity, even among the unfortunate many of us who have been put through what we’ve faced.

I know I wasn’t in any state to offer the appropriate gratitude at that party. This is something that I’ve dealt with for years, but it rarely becomes so bad so publicly. I hope you know that I would do my best to offer you the same understanding you gave me, if our positions were ever reversed. I’m not so certain I would be able do so with as much compassion and grace as you, but we all have our strengths. Mine clearly not being my memory.

Trust isn’t an easy thing to give, but the risk was worth it, in this case. Still, if you could keep the...severity of my situation quiet, I would be very grateful. Flaws, weaknesses are too dangerous for those in our position, I know you’ve seen that firsthand as well. 

Which I suppose is why I’m all the more grateful for your help in remembering. That’s all I really wanted to say, I appreciated the reminder you gave me, and the humanity you showed. It’s all very easy to forget, sometimes.

There’s no need to write back.

Sincerely,  Silver Ostro

to aven, unsent, written several years after desmond’s death

Aven,

I’ve been thinking about Thalia a great deal lately. And when I think of Thalia, I can’t help but think of you, as well, of course.

It’s not rare to see her face in nightmares, to see her body. I relive those last few moments of my Games over and over again more nights than not, slowed down, sped up, in excruciating detail each time. 

I try to remind myself of what she was like before, but it’s been harder lately to remember those few good moments in the arena with her, when both of us were safe, when she showed me care it felt like I hadn’t been given in years. 

It’s selfish, but I wish we could talk about her, like we used to. I want to hear your stories about what she was like back in Five, before the Games took her, about how the two of you got along. It was always easier to see her smile in my mind, instead of her death, right after you talked about her with me.

But that’s not fair of me to wish for, is it?

I know you blame me in some ways for what happened, and I accept that. I know what I create is used for, I know how dangerous it all is, even those things that would be harmless in less cruel hands than those of the Capitol, and yet I still do so anyway. 

I have more blood on my hands that most victors, all without ever laying a finger on anyone.

Sometimes, I wonder if Thalia would have survived, if she hadn’t made the mistake of showing me kindness, and if everyone might have been better for that. I have a suspicion you know that feeling well yourself.

But there’s no use in speculation. We survived, and we continue to survive only because of the choices we’ve made. Choices that have hurt others we care for deeply. Perhaps that’s why it’s so easy to blame each other, to stay at odds, because we’ve both made those choices, and they’ve caused immeasurable pain. 

It’s not easy to look into a mirror.

I could apologize to you, but nothing I can say will undo what I’ve been apart of, and what I’ve caused with my selfish desire to live, despite this not feeling terribly like life at all. So instead I’ll just say that I understand, even if you don’t want me to. And perhaps that’s as far as we can hope to get just now.

- Silver

dawn, unsent, written several years ago after oversharing then pulling away lmao

Dawn,

I owe you an explanation. In fact, I owe you much more than that, but I’ve never had such an easy time with admitting I’ve been wrong, expressing vulnerability, so all that I can offer just now is an explanation, as a start.

You might have guessed that I’m not used to talking openly when it comes to things more emotional. In the absence of many memories of my own childhood, I have to simply assume from what I’ve been told that this has always been the case, something that I learned early on from my parents, who were both more content to hole themselves up surrounded by electronics and blueprints, rather than face the world. Logic reigned in our home, from what I’ve heard, and the little I do remember now. There was never much sharing of emotions, and that was that.

After my Games, I suppose I took that to the extreme. But it’s easier to swallow it all down, bury it deep, when facing it might break you in ways that you’re not sure you could come back from.

This is my overly formal way of saying I’m shit at anything emotional. And when I’m faced with just that, it’s instinct to do exactly the opposite.

I’m self aware enough to know this is an instinct I need to break. And I’m self aware enough to admit that it’s not always as helpful as I like to believe it is, and that it’s possible, despite so much pain, to live through it with gentleness. You’re proof of that.

In our conversations, you opened my eyes to that possibility, something that I would have scoffed at if I had been told before witnessing it firsthand. At first, it was simple curiosity, you baffle me. I can hardly fathom how someone can be put through the cruelty and pain that you have, and still show such kindness for everyone.

You made me want to try, though. I don’t understand why you’re so intent on trying with me. That’s not something that happens often, I don’t give anyone a reason to want to try with me. And yet you shared, and somehow it compelled me to do the same.

And that was terrifying.

It’s not a good explanation––it’s one that I could use for each and every one of my actions in honesty––but it’s cowardice that made me run from that honesty. But perhaps it’s a start to admit that at all. 

Next time, if there is a next time, I’ll try to do better.

- Silver

to blythe, unsent, written after the president’s party, kept in one of their notebooks

B.B.,

I needed to set our understanding in writing, for my own sake. Supremely ironic, isn’t it, that writing is less dangerous than words spoken. I’ve helped make sure of that, unfortunately, and so from the moment I left the arena I found myself clinging to the act of putting thought to paper for safety, I think.

But that’s neither here, nor there.

That hug you shocked me with during the party at the president’s mansion is something I’m considering. It was a surprise, but also a reminder of how much someone can say with something so simple. I’ve forgotten in my years spent with my head down, doing as the Capitol says, that simple can be powerful. An agreement sealed in that gesture, trust, perhaps. It left me speechless, unbalanced, but not in a negative way. 

Before then, I can’t remember the last time I hugged anyone, isn’t that depressing?

Physical touch, any form of it at all, is such a rarity now that I hardly know how to react to it. I’ve spent so much of my life making certain I was beyond any such attachment that I’ve left myself thoroughly alone, when it counts. Strange, then perhaps, that I’m realizing how deeply I desire just that. I’ve been alone for a long time, I’ve kept myself alone for a long time. I’m tired of that.

(Maybe I’m presumptuous to think you understand that feeling well.)

Perfect timing, this strange little agreement of ours. 

I’m well aware I’m not easy to trust, and I shouldn’t be. I’ve spent the past twenty-two years working for the very people who caused us all so much pain, helping them take lives, and keep us in line. It’s something I have to earn. Something I plan to earn, right along side the penance and control I so desperately seek. The risk you’re taking is not lost on me, and I’m grateful for it. 

I’m going to do everything I can not to disappoint you, or any of the dozens of others I’ve already disappointed with my actions. I promise you that.

- S.O.

to digit, unfinished, written after the quarter quell announcement, kept with other letters

Digit,

If this letter ever makes its way to you, you’ll have to forgive the archaic form it’s taken, but I know you’re just as aware as I am that nothing spoken out loud is safe, and anyway, I’m not so certain I could put my thoughts into words if I tried, face to face.

That’s always been part of the problem, after all, hasn’t it?

We’ve agreed to try, but that’s much easier said than done after years of doing the opposite, years keeping as much distance as possible, despite the Capitol forcing us together. 

There’s no need to beat around the bush anymore. You deserve candor in a way I’ve rarely offered, something I’m trying to learn to do better at, but still is a foreign concept in honesty.

I’m sorry. That’s the base of it. 

You deserve more than just a simple apology, after everything that I have done, and even more so for the things I haven’t, but I’ve never been particularly good at this sort of thing. And I don’t expect your forgiveness, or anyone else’s for that matter. You, of all people, have every right and every reason not to offer it. What have I offered you, after all? Certainly nothing to inspire trust or faith.

My goal here is to do the opposite now. You’ll be a better judge than I am of if I’m succeeding in those attempts or not––and I’m certain you’ll have no trouble telling me bluntly if I am not––but as we’ve said, there’s little to do but try.  

My fear is that I might not have a chance to get far enough to make a difference, and my hope is that you might be willing to keep trying in my stead if that happens. It’s a great deal to ask of someone I’ve given every reason not to trust me, but I trust you. Oddly enough, I’ve always trusted you, even if I’ve done nothing to show it. Almost laughable, how in forcing us together, the Capitol might have created its own problems by forcing me to care.

Because I do, despite what I’ve shown.

But I hope it’s not to late to admit that.

to hudson, unfinished, written after the quarter quell announcement, kept with other letters

Hudson,

This is a rather morbid letter, the sort of just in case I’d rather not consider, but with so much uncertainty, precautions need to be in place if things go wrong. 

Firstly, I knew your parents, or rather, knew of them, when they were still in Three. And you deserve to know why you ended up where you are, too, I believe, whether they want to admit it, or not. 

A well-kept secret in Three. We make the technology, and thus, as I mentioned during our brief conversation on the train, it’s more difficult for them to keep it from us. We’re as advanced as the Capitol in our own way, if not more so, if only covertly. There’s a thriving...market, as I’m certain there is in every district, numbered high or low. There are needs that aren’t met by strictly by the book, and there are those who are willing to bridge that gap, in various ways, for various reasons.

It’s a situation that we all have considered before, in various ways, a situation some of us have lived out, unfortunately. There’s the heroic thought, that if we were put in a position in which keeping quiet would doom us, but save others, we would holdfast. But the reality is not so simple. 

I could never blame anyone for breaking under that pressure, under that desire to keep their own life, yet alone those of their family, safe. I know many who have done the same thing. In honesty, I’ve done just that, although not in such an outright way.

It’s preferable to take the lighter punishment, rather than something much worse in the name those you hardly know, isn’t it?

Is it?

I’m not so sure it is. I only wish I could offer some sort of reassurance that none of us will end up in a position like that again.

Which brings me to my second point. You’re intelligent enough that I believe you might have read between the lines during our last conversation. Personal projects that are not actually so personal. And I need someone to know that, several people to know that, in case something happens and I can’t see them through. 

Communication, what we spoke about, sharing information between all of us, instead of trying to win this fight alone. But also weapons, for the inevitable. It’s all coded in my notebooks, and the blueprints are hidden away, but I think between Digit, and you, certainly you might be able to interpret enough of them to glean something useful. Enough that I might make it easier for you to help fix things. Or at least I hope so. 

If not, I’m certain that you’re intelligent enough to come up with your own solution to this problem. Find a way to fix things, just as you mentioned to me you enjoy doing.

[yournewapartment]

Wedding Planning

It is impossible to write an entire post on all of the intricacies of wedding planning, because it would just be too long and frankly exhausting. But here are some of the highlights that I think will help people in need! There are also extensive sources on the internet that are way more in-depth, but here’s an overview for you…

The Venue

The first thing you should do when planning a wedding is to pick your venue. Picking your venue will likely inform what date you set to be your wedding date. Most venues have limited availability, and if you want a specific venue for your dream wedding, best get that locked down ASAP. You may already have something in mind! If you don’t, my recommendation is to look for venues that host weddings year-round.

Choosing your venue will determine how “hands on” you’ll have to be in regards to planning your wedding. Venues that specialize in weddings and similar events will come with an entire staff of vendors ready to go for your wedding. If you’re doing a DIY wedding (like I did) you’ll have to find your own vendors. On that note- choosing a reliable and trustworthy vendor is SUPER important. There are so many options, it can be overwhelming to choose which will be right for your wedding.

If you choose a venue that is specifically used for weddings throughout the year, you will have the EASIEST time planning the resources part of your wedding. The venue will provide contact information for trusted vendors including (but not limited to): caterers they trust (or they may even have an in-house chef), photographers, make up artists, flower arrangers, DJs or musicians, etc. Simply choose which vendors you would like at your wedding, and of course, if you find a different vendor you like better, you’ll be able to use them. The venue will also assign you a key person who will manage all of the comings and goings of vendors and employees at your wedding itself. This is different than a wedding planner who you hire, this is just specifically a point person for you to go to with any issues during the wedding planning process.

If you choose a venue that may not specifically be made for weddings but is allowing you to get married there, they may or may not have contact numbers of trusted vendors. You may or may not have a point person, and I recommend that you at least consult with a wedding planner to make sure that you have everything under control.

If you’re creating your own venue (that’s what I did) you’re completely on your own and will have to find vendors your own way! See “DIY Vendors”.

Wedding Planning

Setting the right deadlines and expectations for your wedding will help the process be as smooth as possible. The easiest way to do this is to use an app specifically made for wedding planning. There are many good options out there, but I personally used The Knot.

These apps will create timelines for you based on when your wedding needs. They’re easy to personalize and disregard tasks and plans that are not relevant to your wedding. For example, I didn’t have bridesmaids, so I removed all the bridesmaid-related notifications from my timeline so I wouldn’t get notifications about those tasks.

You’ll receive notifications on your phone, reminding you to accomplish specific tasks. You’ll know which tasks are overdue and the order of which you should accomplish specific things. You’ll also learn how much contact you’ll have with specific vendors before locking them down.

My favorite part of using The Knot was the fact that it gave me a realistic expectation of when I should accomplish specific tasks. Which things would take more time, how many meetings I would need to set with specific vendors, etc. As a newbie, having all of these deadlines already created for me was wonderful.

The Knot doesn’t just stop there. It helps you set up your honeymoon, rehearsals dinner, as well as writing thank-you cards.

DIY Vendors

Because my husband manages a restaurant that also does catering, he had lots of networking connections he used to secure reputable vendors for us. While you may not have that direct of a connection, someone you know does have that connection! I recommend reaching out to friends, families, co-workers for recommendations. People LOVE giving recommendations.

If you went to a friend or family member’s wedding that was local, ask them for any recommendations. Ask them what worked and what didn’t work.

If a friend or family member has a wedding-related side hustle, consider working out a deal with them. For example, my parents own a garden, and one of their workers moonlights as a wedding photographer. We hired her, and she turned out to be AMAZING. Of course, always verify someone is legit before hiring them by checking their references and/or website.

If you find a trustworthy vendor, ask them for recommendations on other vendors. For example, our caterer recommended an ice cream truck company that we ended up using.

Use your network! You can always make a post on social media if no one in your immediate circle can help.

Creating “Save the Dates”, “RSVPs”, announcements … etc

We used Vistaprint for all of our paper goods. But there are SO many websites out there to explore! These websites have many different formatting options and always allow you to create your own formats. Make sure you have high quality photos saved on your computer that you can use to create cute mailings.

If you use a website like Vistaprint to create your mailings, they’ll have templates specifically labeled for weddings.

Also simply searching “wedding RSVP” on Google will give you millions of ideas.

Shop around on all the sites and create a dummy program and or mailing to see which site is the cheapest.

Search online for discount codes! A lot of websites will give you a discount for signing up for their email list

ALWAYS order more copies than you think you need. You’ll find yourself adding people to the guest list last minute and will be glad you’ll have extra. You also want to have extra copies of everything for your wedding scrapbook.

RSVPs

Shocking thing that I learned about weddings- most people DO NOT RSVP! If they’re coming, they’ll assume that you know that they’re coming. Even if you haven’t talked to them in two years. They may even be insulted that you’re asking them to RSVP. It’s bananas. I invited just under two hundred people to my wedding, and only fifty five RSVP’d. I’m not kidding.

There are lots of ways to track the mail you send to your guests, but from my experience, none are foolproof. In all likelihood you’ll find yourself contacting friends and family and asking them outright. This wasn’t an issue for me, because I didn’t have a formal dinner. If you do have a formal dinner planned and need people to make reservations for food, you may have to send out multiple reminders to RSVP and set a firm deadline.

There are ways to track the mail you send using an app, such as The Knot. But they only work if you have every single person’s email address. That may work if you have a smaller wedding, but asking two hundred people for their email is a time waste and not something I was willing to do. However, my friend got married, and communicated with people exclusively using Knot emails. The Knot even offers to bug people who haven’t RSVP’d for you, which is a nice feature. The Knot also allows you to go on and RSVP for people, which they can later go back in and edit, which is what I used.

There’s always the old fashioned way of tracking RSVPs… track of who responds via a spreadsheet or written document. Utter madness.

Registries

Online registries are so common, that most major retailors or stores have their own. For example- Amazon, Target, Etsy, all have their own registries. You can set these registries up so that the items are shipped directly to an address of your choosing. There are also apps that allow you to make “wedding fund” registries where people can send you money that is then deposited directly into your bank account.

If you don’t want to use The Knot for anything else, consider using them for your registry. The Knot registry is easy to use and connects to literally every website. You can literally find something obscure on some weird corner of the internet, and link it to your registry on The Knot for people to buy for you.

ALL of these registries keep track of who bought what for you, which is super helpful for after the wedding when you’re feverishly trying to complete your hundreds of thank you notes.

“Wedding fund” registries are great. Usually you’re asked to set a goaled monetary amount and to explain what you’re using the money for. People who donate are charged a small amount for sending you money, but that is something they pay on top of what they’re sending you.

Make sure to include items from a variety of different price points!

Don’t put an overwhelming amount of things on your registry. I don’t recommend putting more than forty things. You can always replenish if needed (I did that once).

Many people won’t buy anything from your registry until the week before your wedding. It sucks.

People with either buy you exactly what you want from your registry, will give you cash or a check at your wedding (make sure you have a box for these), or will just give you something random that you don’t want. We had a beautiful set of bowls and dinner ware on Etsy requested on our registry, most of which was purchased for us. And my husband’s one aunt went on to the artist’s profile on Etsy, and ordered us something random that did not fit our color scheme AT ALL. So now everything matches, except these random ugly bowls that she bought us.

General Tips/Tricks

The “wedding surcharge” is real fam! Vendors will charge you more for your wedding then they will for a regular party. Avoid using wedding terminology when speaking to specific vendors, if you can.

Some people will simply not give you anything for your wedding. It’s mind boggling and never who you would expect. Try not to take it personally.

If you do not grant every single guest a “plus one”, it’s likely that at least a few people will text you angrily and demand that you give them a plus one. So may even just show up with a “plus one” without talking to you.

Your family WILL get super offended that you didn’t invite an obscure person you haven’t spoken to in over a decade. Deal with it in the way you feel is best.

Speaking of your family, wedding guests will likely reach out to your parents before reaching out to you. So make sure to keep your close family updated on all of the wedding details.

People are OPINIONATED and it SUCKS. Bless her heart, but my Bubbie spent the months leading up to my wedding predicting every choice we made would blow up in our faces. She helped bankroll the wedding, so we had to sit there and take it. Nothing blew up in our faces, the wedding literally went off without a single hitch, and Bubbie even apologized afterwards and said it was the best wedding she ever went to. That hoe was trying to tell us that an ice cream truck instead of a cake was a bad idea! What nonsense.

In conclusion- You do YOU! Weddings are super stressful and EVERYBODY is judgmental and has an opinion, even if they aren’t married. Even if they have no direct relation to you and haven’t spoken to you since you were a child. Be willing to hear other suggestions, but stick to your guns. LIE LIE LIE if you have to. It’s your wedding! Your friends and family may seem upset in the moment, even though that’s dumb because it isn’t their wedding, but in the end they will love your wedding for what it is, and will forget they ever complained.

[artleaguemdcnorth]

Painting Class First Day of Class 9/27/2021

Hello students, Welcome to the 2021-1 Fall Semester  

Students where sent an email over the weekend with instructions for the following course:

ART2500C  or ART2502C (Painting 1 and Advanced Painting Class ) Mon/Weds 12:20 - 3:40 pm  Blended Format  

You also received a class syllabus and a link to meet virtually via TEAMS. The virtually first class meet is scheduled for  Monday 9/27/2021 at 12:30pm.

This link was sent to your  school ID (mymdc account).    

Make sure you rsvp as soon as you receive it.

     You are responsible for reading this entire email. 

    I understand that some of you might be first year students, so I have also included a document on proper ways of interacting with your professor. I am cordially asking all students to please adhere to those instructions regarding sending all communication to me.   

  https://www.bestcolleges.com/blog/email-etiquette-in-college/ 

  Please read below the format for these classes as we will begin a blended format this semester. 

Note that most of the semester will continue in a remote format.  

Next week I will send information on the dates for in person meetings. This will be done with space limitations, meaning only a specific number of students will attend in person at any given time. I will advise on those issues during our first meeting on Monday via Teams.  

I will be your instructor.    

I am Professor Alena Fresquet , I teach the foundations courses at MDC North.    

I am also a Mix Media and Installation artist. I received my MFA degree on 8/2000 and I have been teaching at MDC since 2001.    

I use the following platforms for teaching, TEAMS, Twitter and Tumblr.    

I will not be using Blackboard at all during the semester.   I will discuss further on Monday, the reasons why I use the above platforms instead of Bb.     For now, just know that this has been a staple of my teaching since before the pandemic and I have used it successfully since 2009.    

I encourage you to go through the class blog here to see how  other students have engaged in learning during the Spring ,Summer and Fall semesters using these platforms.

Also review my twitter handle @Prof_AFresquet so you can see how I interact during class time with students.     When classes begin, I will be posting information regarding class assignments and lecture on this blog:

https://artleaguemdcnorth.tumblr.com/  

I monitor your work and attendance during class in the following ways:  

1)     TEAMS , when we have virtual meets   2)     https://twitter.com/prof_afresquet?lang=en  (Twitter ) 3)     Your personal Tumblr blog when you submit work for review.  

You will follow me on twitter using my class handle shown here:      

@Prof_AFresquet .    

And you will follow the class blog when class assignments are posted.  

On the first day of class, you will use the class time after our TEAMS meeting to create both a Twitter account and a Tumblr account.    

1)      In both the Tumblr and Twitter handle, use your name and include your class (ART2500C or ART2502C ) in the bio. You will read additional instructions regarding your first Tumblr post and first tweet on the class blog on Monday after our virtual meet .

For the TEAMS meeting today, make sure you accept the invite to enter the room on Monday at the start of class. 

Try to be in the waiting room 10 minutes before the meeting. Once I start it is impossible for me to break out to let people into the chat.  

Try to review the class materials and write any questions you have regarding them to ask during the meeting.

As of this writing a return to in person learning in the Fall has been postponed. MDC continues to function in phase 2. This class is a blended course so we will meet remotely for the start of the semester and as the semester progresses, we will meet in person several times.  

I will create a list of the days we will be in person in the next few weeks.  

Most likely, I will leave in person interaction for critiques and project presentations. 

  For now, know that I am here to help you navigate this semester.  

Please let me know if there are special needs you require to succeed before classes begin so we can work towards helping you learn as seamless as possible.    

Tips for navigating the semester start by having good study skills and proper school conduct. 

That means that even though we are having a virtual interaction, you should still do the following:  

1) Turn your computer on ten minutes before class to make sure everything is working properly when we have virtual meets. That means video, mic and sound.   2) I encourage you to dress up for class accordingly and be ready to learn in an adult and proper manner.     3) Work on developing good study skills, discipline and on task qualities to fulfill the class assignments.   4) Aim to maintain excellent time management skills and self-discipline. I recommend that students use the allotted class time to complete class assignments.  

I follow attendance guidelines, if you are not on the TEAMS meeting or assignments are have not posted work to your Tumblr portfolio by the due dates it means you are not doing the class work.  

Keep yourself on task, on time and ready to learn.         I encourage you to work on those skills so that you can have a successful semester.     If at any time during the semester you become sick or encounter any personal difficulties that inhibit your ability to comply with your studies, please reach out to me accordingly. 

The sooner we deal with a situation the quicker we can resolve it.       I look forward to working with you and helping you achieve these goals.     We will talk more on Monday , the first day of class…      

Material list information:

Canvassette  or Canvas Paper 9 x12 or 12 x 16

Canvas pad or Canvas  ( 12 x 16 or 16 x 20 )

Acrylic Set Beginners - Golden , Liquitex, Winstor Newton

Selection of Acrylic brushes 

RECAP FOR TODAY -

FIRST DAY OF CLASS PAINTING ALL STUDENTS

1)    CREATE A TWITTER ACCOUNT 2)    FOLLOW ME AT MY HANDLE @Prof_AFresquet 3)    CREATE A TUMBLR ACCOUNT 4)    FIND A BOOK that depicts the life and work of a Painter see list below.

 BUY CLASS MATERIALS

HOMEWORK

A) Send me a tweet include a picture of your chosen artist.

B) First post for tumblr , review through first chapter of your book then write a brief summary. ( One paragraph ) Publish.

C) IN YOUR SKETCHBOOK, BEGINNING TODAY-

1) Choose an artist from the list below. 2) You will choose one of the artist’s work (still life only) and you will create in your own style a rendition of their work.

NOTE: Choose only a painting from the artists list below that depicts a ‘still Life’ scene.

If you are not familiar with the term ‘still life’ please look it up in an artist’s dictionary or art book.

Here are some suggestions of artists :

Cezanne, Van Gogh, Monet, Matisse, Suzanne Valadon, Jacob Lawrence Alice Neel, Marie Cassatt, Audrey Flack, Berthe Morisot, Remedios Varo Pierre Bonnard, Picasso, Degas, John Singer Sargent, Dali , Georges Seurat .

Final thought, the first assignment will give you an idea of how to paint a still life and how to create interesting compositions for painted narratives.

[shadowdianne]

As a courtesy to Harry's friendly relationship with the Malfoy family, she invites Narcissa to her wedding day... Sometimes falling in love happens when you see someone in a new light. Or her wedding dress. About to walk to her kind but totally-wrong-for-her husband-to-be.

Let’s try to do this. I’m already writing the author’s note and I’m feeling paralyzed. Heh. This is going well.

At any case, let’s see if I still have it in me, alright? Fingers crossed and eternal apologies if this sucks. Brain doesn’t seem to work properly ever since I stopped writing fic prompts.

She had considered on not answering to the invitation, fingers curled around the tasteful paper in where the names had been written with ink that would change from gold to black if she decided to RSVP. She wouldn’t have gone as far as admitting she was nervous, her magic pooling around her, climbing through the walls of a manor that felt far too big and far too constricting at the same time ever since the end of the war. Yet, as she had smoothed the invitation, careful on how her nails scraped the very corners, she hadn’t quite been able to shake the tightening sensation at the back of her throat.

Many words had been spilled about how the magic community have taken the news of the war being over, many more regarding the incessant trials, the perception of them being too much and yet not enough for the public. Her story, the one that should have been a note forgotten in the wind of time about how she had knelt next to Harry Potter and decided to lie through her teeth, mentioned far too much for her liking until the words and the actions had blurred together in a vortex of memories that she wasn’t entirely too sure were hers anymore to have. If she now closed her eyes tight enough, after two anniversaries of that day, she still could smell the musky scent of the forest around them: air tinted green and red due to the spells, energy blast sweeping at every robe that moved in unison in order to aid the one they had called their Dark Lord as she was instructed to check if the Boy who had survived still breathed. She could remember her decision, her question, the gritted way in where she had gotten her answer.

She had been called brave by some, multifaceted by others, she had been called traitor, given the title of someone who would betray anyone. She had never felt inspired. Nor righteous. She had done what she needed to do at the time. Which, in the end, had been the same reason why she had looked up towards where portraits of old names of the House of Malfoy had hung and, while pressing her lips into a thin line, had murmured her agreement to the invitation, the swirling ink transforming its color the silent yet deafening answer she got from her final decision.

It wasn’t, she had considered while perusing through the clothes she would wear to the wedding as if she felt compelled to say yes. Not exactly, the words in the invitation on itself had been polite, perfectly thought. But she knew that, in the same way, she hadn’t needed to be present in every trial performed to what had been the Death Eaters after hers and Lucius had passed -with him being sent to Azkaban- and yet she had attended  them all out of that very same sense of duty, showcasing that she was, indeed, someone else beside being her now ex-husband shadow, she needed to go all the same. For herself. For the boy, now a man, that kept on including her as one that needed to be taken for everything she was and not merely a surname she had married into.

It was, to put it simple, baffling.

She had, also, not quite expected a similar treatment from the others who had actually stood next to Harry Potter. The young man was far too kind sometimes but she hadn’t seen beyond that night the one back at Hogwarts and when the dust had settled her mind had been too full to actually consider what her actions could warrant beyond, maybe, a smidge of some levity on her own sanction. She had been wrong. And the fact that Hermione Granger had invited her to her own wedding was something that still murked her mind the moment she traveled to where, if she had understood it correctly, Bill and Fleur had once married as well: The Burrow.

She had been there a few times already. Always outside, always careful, back when Draco himself had been invited with the same brittle carefulness for everyone involved as his boy also mended his relationship out of that same sense of duty, he seemed to have had the day he had told Bellatrix how the hexed boy in front of him could be or could not be the one they all were seeking to bring forward to the Dark Lord. She had followed those days, a year in after the war, with the same curling nerves at the end of her throat. Yet when his son had shared with her his growing relationship with the dark-haired one her happiness for him had been genuine. Because atop everything else, Draco would forever and always be her son.

Her train of thought, the memories of those days, the scandal the news had brought into the magical community, were halted as she took into the changed setting of the Burrow. The open field now filled to the brim, the grass seemingly to be under a spell so their colors would mimic the sky in all its oranges and purples as the sun settled above them all. She kept to herself, smiling politely, making small talk to the ones who greeted her, as poised, as careful, as ever. She hugged Draco the moment she spotted him, tightly yet quickly as the scent of sweet flowers filled the air, traipsing over the ones who, in unison, turned all towards the groom as the ceremony began its initial notes.

If Narcissa Malfoy -now Black- had learned something was how not to expect anything, how feelings were difficult at times, how things never quite went in the direction one expected to. The power of one’s magic wasn’t rooted in the fact of how much one witch could change what came in her way but how quick and resilient said witch was to those very same changes. Moving like a spell, unable to be grasped, rather than the very physical wand that could or could not hold a hit, was something she had needed to understand and then rely on as she saw everything she had believed once fall around in jagged shapes.

And yet, when the initial fanfare began to play and she saw the wife-to-be walk down the aisle, walk past her in whites and notes of gold that peppered the edges of her dress as the very same metal had condensed in vaporous lace, the blonde witch felt her own breath being stolen away.

She had talked with Hermione a few times before, always smidges of conversations that felt as if they could be larger specks into the very intelligent woman’s mind. She had felt interested in the way the younger witch hold herself, by the way she always commanded a very different kind of power she herself had done back when Malfoy Manor had been full and a light atop everyone who had considered themselves to be better. That very kind of thing that could not be quite taught and yet it was not merely natural. The brunette had it on spades and she had always felt such pull whenever she was able to get a few minutes with her. A mere comforting interest that she had felt some other times, on her younger days.

Yet, the dress, the way she kept her eyes ahead, her lips parted, the blossoming red on her cheeks. It came far too sudden for her, a hit and a gasp, a murmur that didn’t quite escape her lips as she swallowed, the most obvious, physical reaction of her body hidden away beneath her clothes.

Narcissa tended to prefer to use her wording as specific as possible, as right and perfectly well-put as humanly able. Yet, the word beautiful lost its meaning in a slight, slanted way, as if she looked at it through a murky, dirty glass.  Blinking quickly, regaining herself, she looked back to the groom, the redhead young man. The third part of the trio, the one who had eyed her with less kindness on his eyes for the longest of times. The one who, in the end, had turned out to be the most comforting one amidst the faces who looked wearily but trusting her due to some words Harry Potter had said time and time again. The Weasley family would probably always superimpose the image of her sister, of Bellatrix, of the death eater, with her own shadow. A truth she was ready to admit and a weight to bear. And, still, when she looked at the man that now glanced back at Hermione as she slowly came in front of him, she saw the kindness that he professed for her, and the careful way in where the brunette witch took on his offered hand, a gentle squeeze making muscles tremble and jump against the dying light.

She was beautiful.

And she needed to leave.

[peterstanslizzie]

Re-watching Lizzie Mcguire: Episode 2.9 (Party Over Here)

Ohhh hey there Zachary! 😍

- Kate’s turning 14 soon and she’s forced by her parents to invite all of her classmates, including Lizzie, Gordo and Miranda to her birthday party. I thought she’s a year older than everyone since she revealed to Claire in Season 1 she got held back in kindergarten? Since they’re in the 8th grade, shouldn’t she be turning 15 instead? Unless, everyone else is turning 14 in the following year since it’s the fall right now. 

- In addition to handing out paper invites, she has a whole entourage sing an entire song, which I’m assuming it’s called ‘The Kate, The Party’ to the invitees. It was pretty cringe but very on-brand for Kate. Lizzie wasn’t gonna RSVP to her invite but after hearing a couple of kids talking about Kate giving her guests goodie bags with cellphones in it, she quickly changes her mind. I think ALL of us would change our minds lol.

Lizzie’s Next Attempt At Lying

- First things first, Lizzie needs to convince her mom, Jo that Kate’s party will be well-chaperoned even though Kate’s irresponsible 18 year-old cousin, Amy (played by Hilary Duff’s sister, Haylie) is going to be the chaperone. However, Jo is pretty set on not letting her daughter go to this party and this causes Lizzie to get upset. 

- The next day in school, Lizzie complains to her best friends about not being able to go to Kate’s birthday party. Miranda is also on the same boat as Lizzie but surprisingly (or maybe unsurprisingly), Gordo’s parents are allowing him to go because he’s basically a good boy and never really gets into trouble. Except, he did actually got into trouble at least one time before this. Didn’t he get grounded last season for sneaking into an R-rated film in the episode, Rated Aargh? 

- Lizzie and Miranda try to think of ways to convince their parents once more like volunteering to do more chores around the house but they’re not so keen on doing that either. Miranda then thinks about the other option, which is to lie to them. Sounds a lot like the Rated Aargh episode. Hopefully, Lizzie’s a better liar this time. 

- They come up with a plan, which is to get Jo to drop them off at the mall but instead of staying there, they will then get on a bus to go to Kate’s house. Lizzie is quaking in her boots because poor girl doesn’t know how to lie well. Gordo, who’s trying to prove to everyone that he’s not some goody two shoes reveals that he lied to his parents by saying that he’s at Miranda’s place but in actuality, he’s going to go the party that he was already allowed to go to instead. That sounds so unnecessary but whatever floats your boat, Gordo.  

- Before taking off, Jo gives Lizzie some cash to spend on some treats at the mall, which instantly makes Lizzie feel guilty. This reminds me of the ‘Between A Rock and Bra Place’ episode, where Jo also gives Lizzie some money to go shopping for bras, which made Lizzie feel guilty as well especially after telling her mom off at the changing room. 

Kate’s Cousin Is The Worst

Eww, I hope that woman washed her hands before flicking Gordo like that. How rude! 

- They get to the mall and Lizzie and Miranda then change into their ‘party’ outfits whilst Gordo waits for them outside the ladies room. Just a little after 7 pm, they arrive at Kate’s house. Lizzie is still feeling the guilt from her mom giving her 10 bucks. Only 10 bucks? Lol, I thought she gave more than that...just saying.

This actually happened to me once at a club in Spain....lol

- Kate’s party is filled with older kids, whom are probably around the same age as Amy and probably older. Our trio doesn’t seem to recognize anybody...well, except for Amy:

This is so funny to me because it’s Hilary watching her big sis, Haylie doing a ‘7 minutes in heaven’ thing. Well, this is why Jo and Daniela are against their daughters going to an Amy-chaperoned party 

-  The three of them decide to just ditch the party but before they could make their escape, Kate finds them inside the ‘7 minutes of heaven’ closet they were hiding in. Isn’t hiding in there kind of gross? It looks like Kate doesn’t want them to leave so soon seeing that she wants them to at least be around for when she cuts her birthday cake. 

Amy is like the worst....lmao. First of all, she got Kate a strawberry cake when she knew Kate preferred chocolate but what’s even worse is that she forgot that Kate’s birthday is today. How does Kate even deal with her? 

1:06 gif

You can’t help but feel bad for her at this moment.

Lizzie Helps Kate...Again

- Lizzie goes upstairs to see if Kate’s doing okay and she then sees Kate on the phone with her mom to let her know how much of a disaster her birthday party is. We also find out that the only reason why Amy’s chaperone is because Kate’s mom is out of town. Lizzie tries to talk to her but Kate’s still very upset. 

- They both sit on Kate’s bed and Kate reveals to Lizzie that all she wanted for her birthday is just to go to the movies with a few of her close friends. However, her mom wanted her to have a ‘grown up’ party instead. She’s 14 (or 15)! She doesn’t need a grown-up party. Lizzie obviously feels bad for Kate and decides to ask her to tag along with her and Gordo and Miranda to the mall to watch a film together. That’s so sweet. And Kate’s reaction was sweet too!

-  However, Kate doesn’t think it’s a good idea to leave her house in the state that it’s in. I actually think she should just leave and let Amy take all the blame since she is the chaperone and ADULT in this situation. I’m sure Kate’s mom would have punished Amy and not Kate for any possible destruction of property lol. 

Why are Gordo and Miranda me in most parties? Just be eating cake all the time lol

- Lizzie thinks the best solution is to call her mom to put an end to this party. How about no. Can’t they ask Kate to call an aunt or an uncle or something? Anyways, she eventually calls her mom, who was eating ice cream whilst watching a sad movie (that’s so me as well) and she quickly makes her way over to Kate’s house. 

- Lizzie makes an attempt to get herself off the hook by telling her mom that she doesn’t deserve to be punished since she did a responsible thing, which is to call her. However, Jo isn’t fooled by this and tells Lizzie that she’s grounded. She also tells Miranda and Gordo that she’s going to inform their parents as well. 

- We then see Jo turning the party upside down by getting everyone in there to behave and she literally brings the party to a halt by unplugging the music speaker, causing everyone to stop dancing. She then orders everyone to get out of the house.

Amy vs Jo lol 

- Amy gets an attitude with Jo for disrupting the party but Jo isn’t gonna let any 18-year old walk all over her. You got that right! Jo asks Kate if she wants to come home with them but Kate politely declines. 

Okay...so it was definitely Kate’s 15th birthday and she’s still just lying to everybody hahaha

- Kate decides to swallow all her pride and thank Lizzie for helping her out...for a minute. She then goes back to mean girl Kate shortly after. I’m so sick of this charade Kate’s playing with Lizzie. Just suck it up and be friends lol. 

B-Plot: Fun Dad 

- In this episode, it isn’t just Matt getting into some weird albeit fun venture but Sam is also involved in it too. They reveal that the both of them were chosen to be the spokes-family for ‘Cardio Punch’ sport drink, which includes them starring in a commercial. Jo thought that she is to be part of it too but unfortunately for her, it’s just a father and son thing. And she’s feeling pretty salty about it. 

Hey there Zachary!

- Matt and Sam arrive at the studio and they’re greeted by the casting director and Zachary Quinto Steve, the director. It looks like Steve isn’t playing around  as he wants them to get fitted into harnesses straight away because they’re gonna have to rock climb; Sam is all sorts of terrified. 

-  Steve goes over all the steps they need to take once they scale that wall with them. It’s not very complicated but at the speed he was delivering the instructions, I wouldn’t have caught most of it lol. 

- We fast forward to the both of them pretty high up on the mountain wall. However, Sam is petrified and can’t really move. He explains to Matt that he experienced a bad rope-climbing incident, which made him greatly afraid of heights ever since. Steve, the director grow impatient and yells at Sam for not moving. He even makes fun of Sam’s weight. This angers Matt and he proceeds to scale back down to the bottom and gives Steve a piece of his mind. It turns out, Matt telling off Steve made great film for the commercial. 

- At the end of the episode, the full commercial is out on TV and the Mcguires are in the living room watching the final product.  The commercial is just so hilariously bad, especially that shoddy dub on Matt, by Matt. It didn’t even fit his lip movements. Sam was also edited out of the commercial. After all of that anxiety? Poor Sam. 

Overall Thoughts

- This was a pretty enjoyable episode to watch. Nothing significant really happened except that we got to see Zachary Quinto guest star in this episode as well as Haylie Duff guest-starring again. Lizzie helping Kate out is nothing new but as I’ve mentioned it earlier, I’m kinda over Kate acting like she hates Lizzie when deep down, she doesn’t. It’s getting really old. 

- Jo definitely got to shine as a character in this episode, which is awesome to see. I particularly enjoyed her setting the older kids straight like a military sergeant. I’m also glad she was involved in the A-plot instead of Matt’s B-plot, in which the latter is usually where she appears in most of the time. 

- Speaking of the B-plot, it was one of the better ones frankly speaking. It didn’t involve Matt doing something ridiculous like an extreme hobby or whatnot. It was just him and his dad, Sam starring in a somewhat cool sports drink commercial. The highlight of all of that was definitely Matt standing up for his dad in front of Steve. Although, it didn’t really do much to Steve except making him happy and excited that he got great film out of Matt’s rant lol. 

[slushrottweiler]

Between the Lines - Part 1

How Varric Tethras fell in love with his editor: a story in letters.

Bioware wont let me romance the dwarf, so I’ll do it myself Read on Ao3

9:28 Dragon

To Ser Tethras,

As you have been informed, your previous editor has parted ways with Kirkwall Publishing, leaving the production of your popular serial, Hard in Hightown, on hiatus. I am writing to introduce myself as Serah Lawfield's replacement, and to inform you that we shall re-commence publishing your serial by the end of this month.

My name is Y/N Y/L/N, and I am very excited to begin working with you on developing your story. I have personally enjoyed reading your work, and believe we can work well together. Whilst I have looked over your previous edits with Lawfield, if you have any requests or person preferences for the editing process, please let me know and I shall attempt to adjust my process to suit you.

If I do not hear back from you within the next week, I shall begin edits on your most recent manuscript as per the in-house style manual.

Thank you again for choosing to work with Kirkwall Publishing. We are honoured to help share your stories.

Hope to hear from you soon, Regards Y/N Y/L/N Editor at Kirkwall Publishing

…...

Here is the information you requested on New editor. Had 3 men tail her. Notes are attached

(a collection of papers, written in three different hands. One page had scratchy drawings of flying books and quills in the margins.)

Y/N Y/L/N Employed at MP for approx 18 months. Human. Free-Marcher. Originally from starkhaven. Low-born. Educated.Young Resided above Hightown markets. Small apartment. Well kept. 6pin double key lock. Well-liked at MP. Professional. Friendly. Considered hardworking and talented. Has a rep for being good at dealing with difficult writers. Arrives late. Stays late. Takes her work home. Drinks 5-8 coffees a day. Strong ties to Coterie. More info incoming.

Coterie ties extend back years. Potential child recruit.

Currently information broker for Kirkwall faction Respected, feared. Background in smuggling and forgery. Negotiated trade deals with Carta.

Left home later than should have , looked tired but was smiling. Carrying large stack of manuscripts. Was greeted with smiles and waves at office. Two men rose to help her carry her things. Another woman brought her coffee without being asked. Wears slim-framed glasses when working. Nibbled on the end of her quill. Many messengers stop by her desk. Cannot all be publishing related. Some notes are placed directly into her bag. Some belligerent author just showed up. Did not interrupt until author started insulting other staff members. Only took her two minutes to calm him down. Author just left. Not only agreed to changes, but seems to think the changes are his idea. Stayed back late to finish work. Took home three manuscripts. Dead dropped letter exchange under lower left paved outside blooming rose. Added to Coterie watch list. Seems to have a preference for sitting on her windowsill at home to work. Doesn't wear pants at home. Legs for days.

……

(A letter, attached to a well-bound and heavily annotated copy of chapter 5 of Hard in Hightown)

To Ser Tethras,

Since you are, unfortunately, too busy to respond to my last message, I kept to my word and have completed a standard but thorough edit of the latest chapter of Hard in Hightown.

I have used industry standard mark ups, and left my annotations in the margins for your perusal. I have also included a detailed list of suggestion changes that I feel will help streamline the story and reduce unnecessary clutter. Whilst I thoroughly enjoyed your imagery, some of your metaphors boarded on purple prose and I felt best to remove to maintain the tension.

If you have any questions, or you would like to discuss my suggestions further, I would be happy to arrange a personal meet up at the location of your choice.

If all is well, please send your approved changes to the Kirkwall Publishing office byclose of business Friday.

Kind Regards, Y/N Y/L/N Editor at Kirkwall Publishing.

…….

(A note, hastily written and torn roughly from a notebook)

Dear Serah Y/N

You can bet your sweet Starkhaven ass I want to discuss your suggestions. I don't know how you've conned your other authors into dancing your jig, but I'm not about to rework my entire story to suit your whims.

Since you we're so generous as to offer to meet at a location I choose, I'll see you at the Hanged Man this evening. Unless, you've grown accustomed to life up in Hightown?

Yours reluctantly, V. Tethras

……

Mr. Tethras,

Looking forward to meeting you.

Y/N

……

(a note attached to the second draft of chapter 5 of Hard in Hightown)

As requested, here is the edited manuscript; well before Friday you may notice. All agreed upon changes have been made, and grammar corrected. No need to get all antsy over commas again.

V. Tethras.

P.S. where did you learn to play Diamondback like that? ….

Thank you for getting those edits back to me so promptly Tethras. I'm so glad you agree to cut those flashbacks in the middle, they dragged the whole pace to a crawl. The tension is just perfect now!

As for your enquiry about my gambling skills, I shall only state that I am a mystery and an enigma, one you cannot hope to solve. Bow before my beginners luck.

…….

Tone it down, you silver-tongued brat.

V.

……............................................................................................................

Ser Tethras,

I understand that you and your brother are knee deep in preparations for your Deep Roads expedition, but that does NOT excuse you from submitting your latest drafts on time.

If the latest draft of Chapter Eleven is not on my desk by tomorrow morning, I will come down there and drag it from your ink-stained fingers myself.

Sincerely,

Y/N Y/L/N

Editor at Kirkwall Publishing.

……

Why Silver, formal sign-off and everything. You are mad at me.

Would you forgive your favourite dwarf if I said I was assisting a young and devilishly handsome Fereldan refugee to turn his life around? And that, through working with this strapping lad, I am gathering a whole host of new ideas for later chapters, a perhaps… that second serial you’ve been asking for?

Your humble wordsmith,

V. Tethras

…….

Have the damn manuscript to me by next week.

You owe me V.

Silver

P.S. Stay out of trouble.

……

Dearest Silver,

Stay out of trouble? Why, I am an upstanding and law-abiding citizen of this fine city. I wouldn’t dream of creating trouble in our fair Kirkwall.

Hawke on the other hand…

You’ll break us out of prison, right?

……

(a letter attached to a manuscript, delivered within hours of close-of-business the following week.)

Chapter Eleven, as promised Silver.

And if my courier is as fast as she claims, with a good half-a-day to spare.

Now let me have a few solid nights of drinking before you bombard me with your inevitable critiques. After the week I’ve had. I deserve it.

Your favourite Dwarf,

V. Tethras

……

No rest for the wicked V.

…..

Slave driver.

……

You're the one sending (and likely paying) this young boy to run between my office and the Hanged Man to deliver scathing quips.

Are you so desperate to have the final word?

……

Well yes; but you keep responding, don't you?

…….....................................................................................................................

So I noticed you seem a bit fixated on my latest romance scene. There have to be at least twice as many notes on those pages than the rest of the manuscript combined (what do you have against the humble ellipses? Did it kill your father, insult your mother’s honour? Cheat you in cards?).

Something there must have really caught your attention.

……

If by caught my attention, you mean had me scoffing into my coffee, then yes -- there was plenty to work with.

I don’t know who you’re paying at the Blooming Rose, but no one has ever lasted that long, or had a woman orgasming that many times, without the aid of some very potent potions. Anyone who claims otherwise is better at lying than you are.

Try to be a bit more realistic when penning your explicit material.

Your readers aren’t that stupid.

By the way, I have no qualms with the ellipses. But they are not sugar V, don’t sprinkle them about like the scene is an Orlesian sweet.

……

Obviously you’ve never slept with a dwarf...

What we lack in size, we make up for in …  stamina.

Surely you’ve heard the saying... “Just the right height to give a human girl a good time.”

… V

P.S… sweet enough for you Silver?

…............................................................................................................................

                                             Kirkwall Publishing;                 in association with the Noble Literary Society of Kirkwall,

                                extend their cordial invitation to

                                          Ser Varric Tethras

                                                    to our

                                Annual Satinalia Award Ceremony

                               To be held at the De Launcet Estate                                              10th Harvestmere

                                    Dinner will be served at 6 bells                                  Award Ceremony to begin at 8 bells.

                           Please contact Kirkwall Publishing to RSVP.

( scribbled in the bottom corner of the invitation)

Yes you have to come! You won an award for Viper’s Nest

- Silver

……

My Dearest Silver,

I regret to inform you that I will be unable to attend this award shindig, as I will be busy doing literally anything else. As it if Satinalia and the entirety of Kirkwall will be pissed-up and cavorting around in masks, I’m sure no one will miss me.

Be a dear and collect my award for me. I want to send it to the Merchants Guild next time they try and involve Bartrand and me in their latest drivel. And when you finally grow tired of the snooty bastards up in Hightown, come join us at the Hanged Man. Hawke and I are having a little get together.

Yours, without regrets

Varric Tethras

……

Dear V.

Fine, but you better get your clever merchant hands on a bottle of the honey mead I like.

Try not to pass out before I get there.

- Silver

......

( a message, written on the back of a letter from the Merchants Guild and left on the beside of one Varric Tethras )

I stand correct. Dwarven stamina is a thing of beauty.

You still owe me 3 sovereigns.

Silver

……

Where the all of Thedas did you get that dress! That neckline should be illegal.

You can’t possibly have found it in a store, even I wouldn’t believe that kind of coincidence. Did you show a tailor my author portrait? You must have! Which means you had that outfit planned well before I rejected your precious awards night invite.

So you were planning to what, attend that ceremony with me dressed in a pin up version of my usual clothes? I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.

This is punishment for all those ellipses isn’t it?

Or were you just trying to catch my attention? I've been called a narcissist before, but never by intelligent company.

Your exceedingly bemused author,

V. Tethras

……

You didn’t seem to mind the dress last night, when I stopped by to deliver your award.

Or did it only cause offence once it landed on the floor of your room?

I didn’t think you noticed, you were very… distracted.

You’ll note my accurate and well placed use of an ellipses.

Your exceedingly well-dressed editor,

Silver

By the way; your pretty elven friend, the one who’s always sneaking into the Hightown gardens. Is she seeing anyone?

……

Hands of Silver. Hawke’s been making doe-eyes at Daisy since he saw her.

Furthermore, asking about my friends the day after you sleep with me! I feel so used.

Your tragically offended friend,

V. Tethras

……

As usual, you force me to repeat myself V.

You didn’t mind being used last night.

Your surprisingly flexible friend,

Silver

……

No fair, now you’ve got me thinking about humans and their long, bendy limbs.

You’d think all that leg of yours would get in the way.

Next time, remind me to hook them over my shoulders. I like the way it makes your back arch.

……

Tempting.

But you still need to send me the redraft of chapter eleven by next fortnight.

- Silver

[irwintry]

Birthday Baby

Warnings: swearing, mention of alcohol, mention of sickness

Author’s Note: by request lol

Word Count: 4.2k

Luke felt his heart beating heavy in his chest as he rounded the corner. Of course, you would be there. Out of all the people in the fucking world, you would be there. He didn’t care about how or why you were there because he couldn’t get over the fact that you were there.

He tried to avoid his problems with the nearest bottle of booze that would intoxicate his brain. Every time he made a break for it, he’d catch a glimpse of your shirt or your hair and he’d run away from it all. If he had wanted you there, he would have asked you himself. But, that was the problem – he hadn’t talked to you in a year.

-

Eight-year-old Luke wanted a pool party for his ninth birthday. He wanted all of his friends and classmates invited, including the ones he never had the confidence to talk to on the playground. Those were the cool kids, and he figured they’d jump at the chance of going to a pool party. Everyone was doing those nowadays.

His parents went all out for him. The cake was two-tiered, and the balloons and decorations were an assortment of blues and yellows. They had even purchased a new swimsuit for him. When the day came, Luke had received no RSVPs, but he tried not to let it bother him much as they arrived an hour early at the pool they reserved. He was most excited about the gift bags he made (with the help of his mother Liz) for his friends.

At 2:02 in the afternoon, he was straining his neck to look for people with gifts coming through the front entrance. The rest of the pool was crowded with strangers enjoying the nice warm day while Luke was stressing over a party he’d forget about a few years later. That would not be the case, unfortunately.

He spotted a fellow classmate after fifteen minutes. He had nearly started to cry when you joined him on a picnic bench, a big blue gift back in your left hand. Your swimsuit had flowers all over it, which Luke thought was kind of tacky. Sure, you were one of his classmates, but you were never one he cared to get to know. You were quiet, albeit nice.

Luke realized later that he should have invited more people and that he should have given them more of a heads up about the party. Nevertheless, he couldn’t stop crying in front of you. After forty minutes of waiting, you had been the only guest to arrive. This crushed his parents, and it even made you sad as well. You jumped in the pool while he was busy throwing a minor tantrum, and after you pleaded with him to join you, he finally slid into the chlorinated water.

Maybe he liked being around you. Being around you made him happy, and even though he liked his other friends enough, none of them had set out to make his birthday party better like you had. He invited you over to his house the next weekend for a playdate. After that, playdates between the two of you were more common than those with his old friends.

Plus, you had gotten him LEGOs for his birthday, and Luke loved LEGOs.

-

He squeezed through the mass crowds of people in his best mate’s living room. The tequila shot running through his system could only burn through his surface level thoughts. He had gathered enough courage to find your face, but no amount of alcohol could save him from the guilt he felt when looking at you. He had bitten a hole through his red solo cup just thinking about you.

The watch on his wrist read half past midnight. Everyone was wide-eyed and alert as they drunkenly ground against friends and soon-to-be lovers. Luke, on the other hand, could not keep himself awake despite the bass bouncing in his chest. He wondered about you, what you liked, what you disliked, the people you liked and disliked... all of the above. No matter how many times he shut his eyes tight, he couldn’t erase the expression on your face the day he told you the truth. He couldn’t shake the feeling of his stomach rolling every time the silence grew too thick. He couldn’t imagine the emptiness you must have felt once you left and never came back.

That was why Luke was throwing up in the upstairs bathroom at one in the morning. He wasn’t nearly drunk enough to be getting sick, but your random appearance had made him this way. If he had been expecting you, he was confident his reaction would be the same. You made him nervous, and he absolutely hated it.

He challenged his stomach to make it through another hour. Though he wasn’t sure of his plan, he knew he couldn’t let you leave without him saying something. Luke let out a sigh as he backed away from the all-too-expensive toilet. He took the wad of toilet paper in his hand and rubbed it along his mouth before tossing it into the toilet before him. He wanted to believe you didn’t hate him. He wanted to know for sure that you were doing okay, but nausea returned every time he thought of you happy without him.

That part sucked most of all. He wanted you to be happy with or without him. Luke knew he was selfish. He hadn’t been most of his life, and you got to witness it develop firsthand.

He hardly had enough energy to stand back up. The silk shirt that clung to the hairs on his chest was drenched with vodka, soda, water, and sweat, but he couldn’t take it upon himself to peel it off of his clammy body. If things had been different one year prior, he wouldn’t be in this situation. You wouldn’t be in the living room of Ashton’s home, trying to celebrate the birthday of your former best friend while he was upstairs puking because he saw you.

None of this would have happened if Luke had decided that maintaining his friendship with you was more important than his greed.

“Whatever you did up here,” a voice boomed over the music reverberating through the tiles of the bathroom, “I hope you cleaned it up.”

Luke let out a muffled groan as he nuzzled his face into the arms situated on his knees. He felt so awful, he couldn’t even say a word.

“Mate, lemme in,” the person – Ashton – said again. “It’s just me.”

“’s open,” Luke mumbled in response.

A few seconds later, Ashton was closing the door behind him and kneeling to Luke’s level on the cool tiled flooring. Sometimes Luke wished that his friend had laminate flooring for moments like these. He found himself in sickly situations more often than he would like to admit.

“Y’okay, Luke?” Ashton asked while propping his back against the tub beside his friend.

Luke shook his head. He didn’t even want to look up.

“Look, we’re doing a few lame party games in the basement if ya wanna join,” offered Ash. “I’m placing bets on whether or not Jack passes out first. Wanna wager anything?”

Once again, Luke shook his head. “’m not feeling well.”

“Sorry ‘bout that, man,” Ashton replied, his tone calm and understanding. “But, hey, when you are feelin’ better, the basement is where the party will be.”

Luke managed a tight smile as his friend stood from his spot.

“See ya soon,” said Ashton as he rotated the doorknob.

“Who invited her?”

His hand fell. It took him a moment to take a breath and come up with an answer to the question. “I don’t know. If I did, I’d tell ya right away. Try to have fun, okay? You’ve both changed since then.”

Luke nodded, and after another few seconds said, “see you soon.”

“Feel better, man,” Ashton replied before closing the bathroom door behind him.

Luke sighed, the knotting in his stomach returning but only momentarily. He had to collect himself whether he wanted to or not. So, he brushed his hair off of his forehead, stood up way too quickly, shut the light off, and walked out to face the party meant for him all along.

-

On the eve of his fifteenth birthday, Luke had wandered to the park at a quarter to ten at night to meet you. His ankle was still swollen from having previously tripped over a sewer grate earlier that afternoon, but he was braving the pain just to see you. The pain in his ankle mattered little as compared to the pain settling in his chest. He couldn’t believe what he had done, and he had never been this scared to tell you anything.

His parents raised him to tell the truth whenever it mattered the most, and in this case, the truth made him seem like the weeniest best friend on the planet. He lost the bracelet you made him last spring – the one you worked two months on to get it to match yours perfectly. And now, he had to tell you that all of your hard work was gone forever.

“Accidents happen,” you told him after his word vomit ensued. Your feet were dangling off of the boulder beside the creek. This was the exact boulder the two of you always met at after the park was “closed”. One of these days, you were bound to get caught. “I’m bummed, but I can’t be mad.”

“Don’t say that,” he sputtered. “I was being careless, and you don’t deserve to have a friend who is careless. I should have made sure that– “

“Lukey,” you giggled, swinging your body around to face him. “You ass. I’m not mad.”

He frowned. “Since when did you swear?”

“Since my friends dared me,” you replied with a shrug.

Luke felt his stomach fold, but it didn’t last long before the blood rushed to his cheeks. What was he feeling? “Maggie and Jenny? Didn’t they hang out without you like, last weekend?”

You brought your knees to your chest at the sound of your best friend’s words. “They... it doesn’t matter. I like talking to them, and they like having me around.”

“Sometimes they like having you around.”

“Luke!”

He cowered back, realizing how all of this must have felt for you. What Luke never understood about you was the way you handled other relationships. Things appeared different when he looked at it from a larger perspective. The way you acted around others never amounted to the way you acted around him. Plus, he simply didn’t understand why you put up with people’s shit. He was right when he said that you deserved a friend who wasn’t careless.

The only sounds between the two of you now where the chirping of cicadas and crickets and the rushing of the water below you.

“You have a zit,” you muttered after a moment, your finger reaching up to poke his inflamed cheek. “Want me to pop it?”

“No,” Luke whined and swatted your hand away. “Disgusting freak.”

You laughed lightly. “I think I like someone,” you said to him, your hands deep in the pockets of your jacket. You had popped a Tic Tac in your mouth only a second ago.

Luke felt that feeling in his stomach again, only this time, his heart beat faster than usual. “Y-yeah? Who’s the unlucky dude?” Even though it was dark out, he could still see you roll your eyes.

“That guy Tyler from our gym class,” you responded hesitantly. “I played him in tennis the other day, and I think he was flirting with me.”

“You already think you like him?”

“Well, I think he might like me, too.”

Maybe Luke had digestive issues. He felt like he was about to get sick right then and there.

“You can’t be serious,” he stated with a frown. “Tyler? The guy who just dated Anna Parks, the junior?”

“Why are you acting like this?” You seemed to be in disbelief.

Luke didn’t understand your question, nor did he want to. He felt as though he was acting logistical with his questions. Little did he know, all you wanted was support. Little did you know, he was talking through distant feelings.

“You can do so much better, Y/N,” he said. He tried to slide up farther on the rock so he could be closer to you, and amid transition, his sandal began slipping from his foot. As fast as he could try to catch it, it fell off completely and plummeted into the water below. “My shoe!”

“I can do so much better?” You stood, balancing yourself up on the rock so you could tower over him. “What do you even know about me? He’s a nice guy, and he actually likes talking to me in school unlike you.”

“I just lost my fucking shoe!”

“Yeah, well, you deserve it. Happy fucking birthday,” you said and walked away.

-

Luke’s mind was a broken record. Every time he figured out a new thing to say to you, he repeated it over and over until he grew sick of it. Now, he was standing on the bottom step of Ashton’s basement, an ice pack to his head as he peered around the room. Nobody had noticed him just yet, something Luke wasn’t necessarily used to.

The group before him was playing a fucked-up version of drunk Jenga. He never imagined finding you first thing, your back against the coffee table as some dude he met a few years ago was doing body shots off of you. You were laughing, even when the whole ordeal was over. Suddenly, Luke was missing the sensation of the cool tile under his ass as you stood, your body facing his direction. When your eyes met, he panicked and threw up a peace sign. A fucking peace sign.

The frigid ice against his head was starting to hurt as you neared him. Your shirt was slung over your shoulder, so you clearly did not mind being this exposed around a bunch of strangers that Luke knew a little too well. Not only was he missing the cold tile, but he honestly preferred vomiting up his dinner to seeing you like this. He needed to find a distraction before his mind began to wander in an undesired direction.

“You have a zit,” you said with a smirk. “Want me to pop it?”

Luke shook his head. The running gag never got old, even after all of these years. However, the words were unsettling as of late, especially since he hadn’t heard them since June of last year.

Your smile fell after that, your eyes darting around his figure to take in every little thing he was offering tonight. The dark circles and cracked lips said enough.

“Someone told me about this great twenty-four diner just a few blocks away,” you started, taking your shirt from off of your shoulder so you could pull it over your head. You tucked it into your pants while you continued talking. “And, I’m kinda in the mood for waffles. My treat?”

Luke nodded slowly as he brought the ice pack down from his forehead. He looked down, whispering out a meek “okay” while nodding once more. “Just lemme brush my teeth.”

You raised your eyebrow but smiled again nevertheless. “Okay, freak.”

-

Luke had gotten used to being away from home for years, and you had gotten used to never seeing him. Somehow, the two of you managed to stay in contact. You’d occasionally visit him while he was on tour, and he’d come to visit you for a bit just for a slumber party of sorts. Before he left for good many years ago, he never imagined the pain of leaving you and his family. He always dreamed of a life like the one he was given, but missing people made it hard to enjoy the finer things.

Talk of his 21st came up faster than he realized. You planned to stay with him for a month by that point considering his band’s hiatus. He wanted to treat you to everything LA had to offer. You were his best friend, his roots, and he needed a little taste of home every once in a while. He needed a little taste of you.

Sometimes, he believed he needed more of you than he was aware of.

Luke had the issue of letting romantic relationships get out of hand. He struggled to maintain them while keeping a focused head, and most times, he let them go on a little too long. He compared his dates to you all too often, and he never quite grasped the reason why.

On one late June evening, he had gotten too drunk with you. He was acting as though the two of you had just met in some slimy bar with beer-gut drunks that wore beards down to their belly buttons. His lips were all over your exposed shoulders, and he kept fumbling with the straps on your tank top until you pushed him away. While he couldn’t stop apologizing, he couldn’t get away from you either. He still remembered how you smelled after all of those months without you. He had never wanted someone as badly as he had wanted you.

After that, the air between the two of you was thick. The conversations shared resembled small talk more than anything and thinking about that made Luke queasy. He needed a wakeup call similar to this; boundaries were something he hardly had to worry about when it came to his life. He had been certain that the two of you wouldn’t have any, but sitting on the kitchen stool next to you in silence on a Monday morning, he was proved wrong.

The two of you used to hold hands whenever something was wrong. Any deep conversation at two am on a school night called for it. You would lie next to each other in bed and talk about anything that came to mind. Now, it was more talk about him and less of you. He hardly knew a thing about your career, and the more time passed, the more he strayed from asking.

Luke hadn’t meant to deliver any confessions. In all actuality, he hadn’t been aware that he had confessions. The energy had shifted dramatically since your first day with him in LA, and he couldn’t bear it any longer. All of this was his fault.

But, he would never acknowledge that aloud. Not in front of anyone, especially you.

He had never been selfish until these past few years, so when he hammered you with every single feeling in his soul, he had no idea you would react the way you did. Your anger was justified by this point. The drunken thoughts being spewed back and forth only fueled the flame that burned in your guts. The tears falling down his cheeks weren’t because he was sad. He wanted you to feel what he was feeling, but he had already ruined everything good about the relationship the two of you had.

The two of you unloaded every single emotion on each other that night. Any thought one of you had about the other was told through spiteful words that shattered the heart like glass. He wanted to take it all back at the time, but he didn’t have the strength to make you feel better. He only knew what he felt, and he was frustrated you couldn’t see his point of view.

Your friendship had never been as tricky as it had been that night. Luke wanted more than a friendship, and from his understanding, you no longer felt wanted by him in the first place.

The crying had subsided, and all that was left between the two of you was that familiar tense feeling in the air. Your lip trembled, and Luke tried to resist reaching out to touch it. He had never imagined his feelings this heightened before.

“I’m going,” you whispered.

“Okay.”

“Leaving you.”

“Okay.”

“Leaving LA.”

“Fucking okay,” Luke spat, but he wasn’t okay. He didn’t know how to beg you to stay.

Your eyes widened at his sudden volume. All you could do in return was nod as you bumped his shoulder to pass him. He winced, and he almost considered reaching out for your arm to stop you. He wished he could change a million things about the night he told you he loved you, but you left before his brain could catch up with his heart.

-

“I haven’t had a waffle like this since I went home last winter,” you said, pure lust in your eyes as you gazed down at the syrup-drenched golden delight.

Luke didn’t order anything. He simply couldn’t. He couldn’t fathom the idea of food after that hour of getting sick because your face haunted his body. And, he couldn’t believe you were sitting here with him after that whole year of silence. You were merely strangers now.

“Remember when I had a waffle party when I was like, thirteen, and– “

“Can I pay you back for the Uber?”

You looked up from cutting your waffle. “What?”

“Can I pay you back for the Uber?” Luke asked again, his tone as deadpan as it had been a second ago. He felt dizzy and incapable of speaking to you as if nothing had happened.

Slowly, you took a bite of the syrup-soaked piece, nearly moaning at the taste. You nodded at him a moment later.

Luke appreciated the fact that you were trying to avoid awkwardness. You wanted to continue things the way they had been, but it was impossible for him. His mind hadn’t changed, yet all he could think about was your reaction that night.

“I was thinking since I’m in LA for the weekend, that we should– “

“Why are you in LA?” he questioned.

“When will you stop interrupting me?” you mocked in return. You waited patiently for his expression to change and continued speaking when it didn’t. “For your birthday, of course.”

Luke shook his head. “Bullshit.”

“What do you want me to say?” You placed your silverware down onto the scratched plate before you.

“Donno.” He shrugged. “We haven’t spoken in a fucking year. Excuse me for being cynical.”

“Okay, and whose fault is that?”

Luke frowned. He hadn’t meant for any of this to happen.

You sighed. “I just wanted to see you. Is that a crime? I missed my best friend. Thirteen years is a long time to be friends.”

“Twelve.”

“Thirteen.”

“We stopped talking last year,” he said. “Twelve.”

You rolled your eyes and proceeded to take another bite of your waffle. “Whatever. I wanted to see you. I don’t care about last year.”

Luke tensed, his jaw clenching as he fought back words.

“It doesn’t mean anything now.”

His hands balled into fists on his lap, and he had to shut his eyes and breathe through his nose to keep calm.

“Besides, I’m sure we’ve both forgotten most of what happened anyway, so I think– “

“You expect me to just forget that I told you I was head over heels in love with you?” he asked, a somewhat-devilish laugh coming out unannounced. “Babe, you’re fuckin’ kidding me.” Luke rapped his knuckles down onto the tabletop.

“I just– I just hoped we would be okay.”

Luke’s smile faltered, and soon, his gaze was falling back to his hands. “You have no idea,” he said breathily, “how much I want to be more than okay.”

You nodded. “I know.”

“I’ve been replaying that night in my head every single damn d– “

“You never asked how I felt.”

Luke scratched at his pants. “Huh?”

You pulled your wallet out, dropping a bunch of uncounted cash before escaping the confines of the booth. Luke stared at you, his eyes slightly wide as you pulled him up by his wrist. You led him to a dark corner outside of the diner, a place Luke knew you wouldn’t feel safe being in unless you felt safe with the person you were with.

“If you want to tell me nothing has changed,” you started, “now’s your chance. If you regret the things you said, now’s the time to fucking tell me. If you still have feelings for me, then you’ll just fucking kiss me.”

He repeated your words twice over in his head, making sure he heard every little thing correctly. Your hand was still tight on his wrist, but he wriggled out of your grip so he could wrap his arm around your waist. His pressed his lips onto yours roughly, taking no extra time to slip his tongue into your mouth so he could tell you how badly he’s wanted you after all of this time.

Your hands wound themselves into his hair, your fingers tugging at his roots so he could groan and whine against you. His chest heaved as he pulled away, and all thoughts about what happened within the past year were drowned out by the taste of your lips.

“You have a zit,” he mumbled, a lazy smirk playing on his own lips. “Want me to pop it?”

You smiled in return. “Freak.”

[peter-parkouuuur]

Chapter 10: Stark Party Part 2 (Spider-boy - Peter ParkerxStark!Reader)

HI THERE!

I’m so sorry for the late upload! I didn’t have much time last month to write and revise. Not gonna lie, I had a hard time writing the whole thing, so I’m sorry if it’s a bit sloppy.

Anyway, enjoy! xx

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13

“Leaving so early, Spiderman?” Peter hears a familiar voice stop him from walking away.

“Mr. Stark… I uh… Something came up.” Peter lies.

“Nothing’s up. I know you and your sidekick were coming. I’ve checked the RSVPs. Where are you really going?” Tony asks.

“Queens.” Peter answers.

“Here’s where I draw the line, Mr. Parker. I know for a fact that this isn’t the first time you’ve walked out on my little girl. You need to stop this. Whatever your little game is, stop it. You may work for me, but I won’t stand down knowing that you keep doing this to my daughter.” Tony walks toward Peter who is clutching his gift nervously behind his back.

“Is that your gift?” Tony sees the gift bag Peter is hiding.

“Umm yeah.” Tony takes the gift bag from Peter’s hold and shoves two tickets inside.

“I was going to give her 3 gifts tonight for interning at Stark Industries but you can give her gift 1,” Tony states giving him back the gift bag.

“What is it?” Peter asks.

“Two tickets to some soccer game she’s always wanted to watch in Madrid. You can go with her but of course, I’ll be flying with the two of you.” Tony stares at him sternly.

“Wow. Mr. Stark you didn’t have to… The two of you can watch the game together. Besides, Aunt May would probably say no.” Peter replies.

“No, I’m not really a fan. I’ll handle your Aunt May.” Tony reassures him.

Peter just nods.

“Listen, I know that other kid a tough competition, but as her father, don’t do this to her. Not my little girl, Peter. If you really like her, go back inside.” Tony tells him.

“But Mr. Stark, I-“ Tony cuts him off.

“No. I will not have it. I may not like the idea of my daughter liking any boy her age but I know you’re a good kid, Spidey. I may not approve of this now, but I know you’ll keep her safe. And you better keep her safe and happy at all times. If I see her crying because of you, that bruise on your face will double in numbers. Get back in there, Peter.” Tony states.

“Don’t worry Mr. Stark, I really do like your daughter. I won’t let you down this time.” Peter states.

“Good.” Tony nods his head.

Peter moves in for a hug but Tony stops him beforehand.

“We’re not there yet. I’m just telling you what to do.” Tony clarifies.

“Right.” Peter acts nonchalant.

Peter heads back inside to see Y/n waiting by the door.

Happy moves to where Tony is standing.

“You’re really okay with that kid dating your daughter?” Happy asks.

“Better him than any other snobby elitist,” Tony replies before following Peter inside the hotel.

Meanwhile…..

“Oh my god….. Ted…. I can’t accept this.” Y/n stares up at the Blonde guy who is smiling sincerely at her.

“No, I insist. It’s a birthday gift. Here, let me put it on you.” Ted wraps the 18k rose gold love necklace from Tiffany’s, around Y/n neck.

“It looks really great on you.” Ted smiles at Y/n.

“Thank you.” Y/n smiles weakly at Ted.

Y/n spots Ned by the coconut shakes stand.

“Excuse me.” Y/n excuses herself from Ted and her friends and walks toward Ned.

“Ned hi! Where’s Peter?” Y/n asks.

“Hi Y/n! We kinda split up the moment we arrived. I’m sure he’s here somewhere.” Ned shrugs his shoulders, paying more attention to the coconut shake being blended by the staff.

“Alright. Thanks, Ned.” Y/n tells him.

“No. Thank you.” Ned raises his glass at Y/n.

Y/n lets out a faint laughter before being accosted by Denise.

“Why aren’t you greeting all your guests? Where’s your father? He’s late. He planned all this and somehow he still manages to arrive late.” She scolds Y/n.

“Mom, I have no idea where dad is. He’s probably stuck in traffic. Don’t worry, he’s never absent from these events.” Y/n reassures her mom.

“Where did you pick up that boy? Is he from Dalton?” Denise motions at Ned who is busy drinking his shake.

“Oh him! No, he’s one of my friends from Queens.” Y/n replies bluntly.

“You have friends from Queens? How on earth did you meet him?” Y/n’s mother questions.

“His best friend also works for dad. Dad and I went to Queens to recruit Peter, dad’s new ‘sidekick’.” Y/n states.

“Of course he brought you to Queens with him. Always been daddy’s partner in crime.” Denise sighs and walks away.

Ned stands beside Y/n who is shaking her head in dismay.

“My mom is despicable sometimes.” Y/n mutters.

“Oh hey! There are Peter and your dad!” Ned exclaims, pointing at the door of Palm Court.

“Finally.” Y/n grumbles, walking towards Peter and her dad.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you.” Y/n wraps her arms around Peter.

Their hug is short-lived after hearing Tony’s fake cough.

“Hi, dad.” Y/n hugs her dad tightly.

“You look great, sweetie! Nice necklace, whose gift is that?” Tony asks.

Sensing Peter’s awkwardness, Y/n shrugs off Tony’s inquiry by replying, “Oh umm from my friends. Mom’s been looking for you, by the way.”

“Oh god. The witch just wants to taunt me. Better go find her before she blows up. I’m doing the toast tonight, alright?” Tony looks at his daughter with admiration, realizing that his little girl is growing up in his very eyes.

“I’m watching you two,” Tony warns the two teenagers before walking away.

Peter just stares at Y/n knowing that it was a lie to save herself from all the questions about Ted Vanderbilt and his enormous trust fund.

“Hi.” Y/n greets Peter, pulling him in lightly.

“Hi there. Happy Birthday…. Well, I already greeted you a while ago but you get th-“ Y/n cuts Peter off with a kiss on the cheek.

“Here you go again with your bumbling. Relax, it’s just me.” Y/n giggles.

Peter just looks down and blushes slightly. It’s not every day that a girl compliments him, it’s usually the other way around, but New York girls are more forward than the average ones.

POST DINNER: THE REAL PARTY

When all the adults left the restaurant including Y/n’s parents and Eloise, the real party officially began.

“I made it through the darkest part of the night! And now I see the sunrise! Now I feel glorious! Glorious! Glorious! Glorious!!!” The whole Palm Court is filled with the voices of Manhattan Private school kids singing to Macklemore’s Glorious at the top of their lungs.

“Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!” Y/n’s friends, Peter, Ned, and Ted all cheer on Y/n as she manages to drink her 9th shot of Mojito in a row, a first time in her case.

“Wooooh!” Y/n screams at the top of her lungs.

“You guys are so great, you know that? Like, there are no better people in this world who could ever tolerate me. You girls are gems.” Y/n hugs her three best friends.

“Wow, you’re a lightweight, Y/n.” Ted laughs.

“She really is. I’ve never seen her this chatty before.” Tina laughs at Y/n’s drunken state.

Y/n walks toward Peter who is awkwardly assessing the situation.

‘What do I do? Should I carry her and bring her home or something?’ Peter thinks to himself.

Y/n puts her arms around Peter’s neck and giggles.

“The world is up for grabs!” Y/n sings along.

“Are you alright?” Peter holds Y/n by the waist, making sure she’s standing steadily.

“What? Oh yeah, I’m fine. I’m totally cool.” Y/n snorts.

“Listen, I have to bring Ned home but I’m coming back okay? I just need to make sure my best friend goes home safe.” Peter states.

“What? Ned has to leave already? It’s only 11!” Y/n grumbles.

“Yeah well, Ned’s mom isn’t really the most lenient mom. I think the only reason why she allowed Ned to come to Manhattan with me was that he was invited to a Stark party.” Peter explains.

“Fine…. Can’t you at least take Happy with you? Happy!” Y/n summons Happy, Tony Stark’s head of security.

“Dear god, is she drunk?” Happy asks Peter.

“She’s just tipsy, I’m sure she’s fine.” Peter answers.

“Shut up, I’m totally fine. Happy, I need you to bring Peter’s friend, Ned home to Queens.” Y/n stares at Ned who is already sitting down after drinking too many shots.

“I’m just gonna bring down to the car. I’ll be right back.” Peter tells Y/n.

Y/n kisses Peter on the cheek and grins at him when she pulls away.

“Alright! I’ll be here.” Y/n replies, waving at Ned who just giggles and waves back at Y/n before being dragged away by Happy and Peter outside the room.

Y/n moves to the bar with Ted following suit.

“So, are you enjoying your whole…. Luau?” Ted asks, staring at the Hawaiian decors hanging on the walls.

“I am! It’s been great so far. Are you enjoying my luau?” Y/n chuckles.

“Yeah of course. I finally have some alone time with you tonight.” Ted replies.

“Thank you for the necklace, by the way, you really didn’t have to buy me anything, really. You being here is enough.” Y/n tells him.

Ted moves in closer to give her a kiss which he does.

Y/n just sits there, stunned. It hits her after 2 seconds to push Ted away.

“I’m sorry, Ted. I can’t…” Y/n shakes her head.

“What does the Queens guy have that I don’t?” Ted asks.

“Ted…. You and I just met… in fact, we’ve only had like 1 official date and Peter & I work for my dad’s company and we bond. I’m sorry if you think I’m leading you on, that was never my intention.” Y/n explains.

“It’s fine… I get it. We can still hang out though, right?” Ted inquires.

“We can… but just as friends.” Y/n clarifies.

Ted just nods.

The car is parked right outside Peter’s building with the two teenagers seated at the back and Happy & Nico seated in front to give space for the two teenagers.

“Open my gift to you right now, quick.” Peter bounces on his seat.

“Umm okay? What’s with the excitement, Parker?” Y/n asks.

Y/n opens the paper bag to see a Charm bracelet with a Brandenburg gate charm to represent their trip to Germany together.

“I only had enough money for one charm, sorry..” Peter states.

“What no it’s fine! I love it…” Y/n looks up at Peter in awe.

“Quick, there’s still something else inside the paper bag,” Peter adds.

Y/n sees two tickets which catch her eyes immediately.

“Are these tickets what I think they are?” Y/n gasps.

“Your dad may have invited me to watch a football game with you in Spain.” Peter rubs the back of his head.

“Oh my god…” Y/n looks at Peter who looks quite unsure.

“Do you like it?” Peter asks.

“Like it? I love it!! How did you know?” Y/n inquires.

“Well, your dad may have helped me.” Peter shrugs his shoulders.

“I love it so much! Thank you!” Y/n gushes, hugging Peter.

“In case you guys are forgetting, Your brother and I are right here.” Happy interrupts the moment.

“Hey is that your mom?” Nico points outside the car where Aunt May is standing.

“Oh, that’s my Aunt May. I really have to go…” Peter grumbles.

Before Peter could get out of the car, Y/n opens the door to greet May who is standing impatiently outside their apartment building.

“Hi, May! It’s so good to see you.” Y/n greets Peter’s aunt whose mood changed from anger to elation.

“Hi Y/n! Is Peter with you? He’s way past his curfew.” May asks.

“Yep! I’m here!” Peter awkwardly steps out of the car.

“Oh thank god! I called Ned and he said some guy named Happy brought him home.” May states.

“That would be my dad’s head of security. He’s a bit of killjoy.” Y/n laughs.

“The car window is down!” Happy shouts.

“Love you, Happy!” Y/n gives him the peace sign.

Y/n looks at Peter and smiles at him warmly before giving him a long hug.

“Good night.” Y/n sighs.

Peter, feeling a bit devilish, pulls Y/n in to give her short kiss. It was the first time they kissed in front of anyone important in their lives. Y/n knows Tony is going to find out about this as soon as she arrives home.

“Good night. Happy Birthday.” Peter pulls away and signals his aunt May to head inside with him.

Y/n slides inside the car silently and contently.

“You do know dad is going to kill him right?” Nico looks at his sister with a grin on his face.

“I know.” Y/n mumbles.

-------------------------

TAG LIST:

@capandbuck @multifandom-slytherin @httpmcrvel @ccold-as-ice @nerdywitch @founding-fuck-bois @bookgirlunicorn @spidey-boio @antaraxy 

[hanaxjeong]

Birth of Velocity

(( OOC: so I'm gonna do a little preface to this whole self-para thing. Caus I don't know all the potential trigger warnings I should include, this is kind of the warning before the full thing.

Plus I wanted to tag people in CCPD and Team Flash so that those in the CCPD, if they want to do an investigation into Hana's place while she is missing they can get details in this.

Team Flash people will be tagged because of the end of the story. Also because this whole thing kind of effects them. I will probably also tag Main just so the admins can make sure not to miss the story.

Also Hana has been missing since December 3rd (since I said it was a week til Barry and Iris' wedding which was on the 9th) and I figured Hana might show back up either on the 19th or potentially later but still within December.

Also also for the Admins I decided to change the potential speedster name for Hana. Slipstream sounded weird and clunky the longer I thought about it. So title gives the new name!

CCPD: @detectivechristiansingh , @detectivexspivot , @struckbylightningflash

Team Flash: @viberamon , @speedsterxs , @lightningtotem , @elcngation

Main: @centralcitysfinest-rp

Hopefully that is everyone that needs to be tagged. If I missed someone let me know and I'll fix it! Enjoy!))

Hana sat at her desk and let out a soft sigh as she looked at the invitation before her. Barry Allen and Iris West Wedding. She was happy for the Forensics Scientist, but part of her felt awkward since she didn't really know her co-worker well enough to be invited to his wedding.

Running a hand though her hair she figured she would RSVP to the event, even easier to hand it over since the Forensics Lab was just a short walk away. Taking the invite to Barry's office she noticed he wasn't there.

"Must of gone home early." She said to herself as she placed the RSVP on his desk. Hana knew she would have to go get some fancy clothes, but she still had plenty of time, the wedding wasn't for another week or so.

Heading back downstairs to her desk she had noticed Joe missing as well. She had chalked it up to him helping Barry, or Iris get ready for the wedding. Taking a seat she looked at her case before her.

Missing people from the mall, and unlike those that had died, these were humans. They had no powers yet they still went missing. It was odd, but she had worked missing persons cases before.

Looking over the case a few more seconds she closed it. She wasn't going to get any answers looking at what little info they had. Storing the case in her desk she made her to the Captain's office to let him know she talked with him a bit before heading home.

Once she was home she, Hana ran a hand through her hair before heading to kitchen she opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. "Home sweet home." She muttered to herself as she popped the bottle cap off.

Taking a seat on her sofa she turned on the news, but quickly changed it from Channel 52. After she finished her drink she went to take a shower. Letting the warm water rush over her body Hana heard the sound of breaking glass.

Her mind started to race, but she calmly got out of the shower grabbing a towel. Hana left the water running. Walking over to her bed she reached behind the nightstand to pull out a hand gun.

Checking her house, she noticed a baseball sitting on her kitchen floor with broken glass. Letting out a sigh, she walked back to the bathroom to turn off the shower. After drying off and getting dressed she put the gun back where it belonged.

Grabbing the baseball, she headed to her neighbor's house. After talking with them for a while, she headed back to clean up the broken glass. Once it was cleaned up she headed to her bedroom.

On her wall was a copy of a case file from Coast City Police Department. The center of her web of the casefile was a picture of her father. Taking a look over the information on the wall, her lips pulled to the side. The information was getting jumbled with her current case. She needed sleep.

The next morning Hana looked over at her phone. The display read 5:45 AM. Early, but she was used to it. Getting up she got dressed to go jogging.

As she looked through her closet she noticed her surfing suit. "Why did I bring you to Central?" She questioned as she looked at it. Pushing it aside, she grabbed the jogging outfit.

This time she had hoped she wouldn't run into a criminal like she had a while back when she ran into Snart, or at least a version of Snart. Looking at the time she let out a sigh. 6:05 AM. She was running behind on her usual schedule.

Putting in her earbuds she turned on her running mix, which amounted to the sounds of the ocean. It helped calm her and helped her think things through. There was plenty on her mind she needed to think through.

Setting out on her route, Hana let her mind wander through everything going on. As she jogged her mind thought of everything that had been going on since she moved to Central City. The Revelation of Flashpoint, Metas, The Flash, the Attack on Central City Mall, Missing people. It was all so much.

Pre-Flashpoint. Her mind focused on that. A timeline that no longer exsisted. A time when her father lived and she was a meta. Not only a meta, but a superhero named Snapshot.

Her focus was ripped from the sounds of the ocean, of a timeline long since past, of a hero that didn't exist. Looking at who she bumped into, she looked at the man. He looked familiar, but she couldn't place it.

The man bothered her and she pulled out her cellphone to get ready to call the cops. She heard a scream and she looked over at the direction. It was just a few kids playing.

Lowering her phone she had forgotten about the man behind her. Taking a step forward her mind snapped back to the man she bumped into. Of course she couldn't get one jog without bumping into a criminal.

Turning around Hana found that she had more than Norvok to deal with. She didn't get to far before metal clasped around her mouth and her phone shattered by a metal fragment. Amunet Black. The only meta bold enough to kidnap someone in broad daylight.

Hana couldn't move, at least not without risk of getting killed. Her vision started to blur, the world felt out of synch. The last thing she could focus on was Amunet, at least until everything went dark.

When she finally woke up she was in a concrete room. At least she woke up in a bed, but she noticed her shoes were missing. "Well great." She commented. Looking around she didn't see much.

A single door, a light, the bed she woke up on, a toilet, a swirling symbol painted on the wall and no windows. She had seen solitary rooms in prisions that were homier than the room she was in. Getting up she walked around the room.

A camera in the corner. "Good. No privacy." She said as she saw the camera. Rubbing her temples she knew one simple truth that it had to be at least the same day. "Who the hell are you?" She asked looking at the camera.

Pacing back and forth for a bit she sat back down on the bed. Eventually a slat opened in the door and a tray of food slid in. Looking at it she was weary of it. "You really expect me to eat that after you drugged me already?" She asked.

"Why am I talking? No one is gonna respond." Hana said to herself. It wasn't long before her stomach growled. She cursed to herself about not having eaten before her run. She was weary of the food, but she needed to eat.

Cautiously making her way over to the food tray, Hana inspected it. Finger foods. Who ever gave her the food wasn't going to risk her storing away a utensil, even the tray was made of paper.

"Great. You might as well just get me Big Belly Burger if you're gonna be cheap." She said. Though she knew it was useless. Hana could hear muffled talking just outside her door, but she couldn't make out what was being said.

For now she had to survive. She needed to set up a routine to track time. She couldn't lose track of it otherwise she would lose sense of how long she had been missing.

After she had eaten she looked around, her eyes once again settled on the camera. It was too high up for her to mess with, and her bed was bolted to the ground. Letting out a sigh she sat back down on the bed.

It was easy for her to fall into a routine, each day she spent exercising. Each day she was served three meals, at night they dimmed the lights. Despite her best to keep track of how long she was missing, Hana was slowly losing track of time.

As she was doing situps, the door started to unlock. Standing up she watched as the door swing open. Right in front of her was a scientist with two guards behind her. "You've been keeping in shape." The woman said.

"It passes the time." Hana said as she took stock of the guards. "So you clearly kidnapped me for a reason." She added.

The scientist gave a soft chuckle. "Kidnapping is such a terrible word. We needed test subjects and you're the perfect specimen." The scientist said.

"You had Amunet Black kidnap me, locked me in this room and now you want to say that I'm what.. a test subject?" Hana asked. "You can go fuck yourself if you think I'm a willing test subject." She added.

"If I thought you were a willing subject then I wouldn't have these guards. We know that you have the potential to be very rebellious." The scientist said. "However it is your turn finally, so come along. I'd hate to have these two drag you out." She said turning to walk away.

Hana stayed where she was. "Ugh hit her with the Sonic blasters." The scientist said. The two guards raised their guns at her. Hana fell to the ground covering her ears.

"That's enough." The scientist said. The sound faded, but the ringing still filled her ears. The two guards walked over and dragged her away from her cell. The world was out of focus, she couldn't make out anything that was being said, or where she was being taken.

By the time her vision focused she was strapped to a table. Above her was a massive machine, a heart monitor beeped next to her. "Where ..." She barely managed to say. Hana had noticed that there was no one around.

The machine above her sprung to life. The orb end gathered electricity that danced around it. As she watched the electricity, Hana recognized it. It was the same as when the Flash ran.

"How did...." She tried to speak. Hana was cut off by the bolt of lighting that struck her. Her scream of pain was muffled by the lightning. As the bolt dissipated, the sound of the heart monitor grew louder.

Beeping. Beeping faster. Then a rush of scientist trying to stop her from dying, but Hana didn't feel like she was dying. Sure her whole body felt like it was on fire, but things seemed to of slowed down. Or had they?

"She is crashing! We need to stabilize her right now damn it!" One scientist shouted. Everything started to fade again. The heart monitor beeped faster and faster til a flat line was heard.

When Hana had woken up, she was in an alleyway, her body hurt like hell. How did she end up where she was. "Ugh ..." She groaned. Trying to stand up was a bad idea as she fell back to her knees.

"Hey you okay?" Someone asked her. Looking up she rubbed her forehead. "Uhm. Yeah. Just to much to drink last night." She lied.

The person had moved on with their day. Hana saw a nearby thrown away paper. She had been gone for some time, she had missed the wedding, she had missed worked. As she tried to read the paper she felt it shaking.

Looking at her hands she noticed it vibrating at a fast pace. "What the?" She asked curiously. She gripped her wrist trying to stop it. "No no no. Please stop." She said letting out an exhale trying to calm herself.

"Think Hana...." She said to herself. "Where can I go? Work wouldn't understand. The Flash. I need the Flash." She said aloud. Closing her eyes she tried to think of where he might be. S.T.A.R. Labs popped to mind. Taking a step forward, her body reacted on its own.

In an instant she was in the cortex of S.T.A.R. Labs. Though it was a less than graceful entrance. She had practically tripped as she tried to stop. Looking around she saw no signs of anyone being there. The only good thing was the Flash suit before her.

Standing up, she brushed off her damaged jogging outfit. She was surprised it hadn't been burned to a crisp when the lightning hit her. Looking down she noticed her shoes had been returned. "Where are you Flash?" She asked herself as she felt her hand vibrating again.

[saintdracopotter]

11 hours as a couple

Harry sighed at the magnificently designed silver and gold invitation to Blaise and Ginny’s wedding. He shook his head but he picked up a pen and a sheet of paper to write his RSVP anyway.

He was in the middle of writing ‘no plus one’ when a sharp knock sounded on his front door. Harry waited a moment to see if whoever it was would assume he wasn’t home and sod off, but the knocking only got louder and more persistent.

“Ugh, okay. I’m coming.” Harry was ready to tell the person on the other side of the door to fuck off, but when he saw that it was Draco Malfoy, his words disappeared and he just stood there with his mouth open.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes at Harry. “Close your mouth. You look like one of those statues on top of fountains who spit fountain water out of their mouths.”

Harry snapped his mouth shut, but he didn’t respond in any other way.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Aren’t you going to invite me in? It’s bloody freezing out here.”

Harry nodded and moved aside to let Malfoy in. Malfoy walked into Harry’s house like he lived there, heading straight for the kitchen where he started opening and shutting cabinets like a madman. Harry closed the door and went after Malfoy.

“What the hell are you doing, Malfoy?”

“I’m looking for alcohol.”

“And why are you looking for alcohol in my house?”

“I need to talk to you,” Malfoy said, finally turning around to look at Harry. “Didn’t you get the invitation? It’s so insensitive, isn’t it? The way they’re flaunting their happiness?”

“Who? Blaise and Ginny?” Harry asked, and Malfoy rolled his eyes before going back to searching the cabinets.

“Yes, obviously, Blaise and Ginny. Ah, yes! There it is. Scotch.” Malfoy promptly set to work fixing himself a drink while Harry stared at him.

“Why are you so upset?”

Malfoy took a drink before saying, “Why aren’t you upset? You were with Ginny for nearly two years.”

Harry shook his head. “Ginny and I are friends. I thought you and Blaise were still friends as well.”

“We are. And I do want Blaise to find love and happiness, but not until I find it too. It will be horribly embarrassing to show up at their cute little Christmas wedding by myself. Which is why-” Draco stopped his sentence when he caught sight of the papers on Harry’s kitchen table. He glared at Harry’s RSVP, snapped his fingers, and the paper vanished.

Although Harry was impressed by that wandless magic, he still exclaimed, “What the fuck, Malfoy? I’m going to Blaise and Ginny’s wedding. I don’t care that you’re pissed off, Ginny’s my friend and I have to go even if that means going by myself.” Harry stared defiantly at Malfoy, but Malfoy seemed unmoved.

“I never said not to go to the wedding, Potter. I was going to suggest that we spare ourselves some shame by going together.” Malfoy raised his eyebrows at Harry, and Harry recognized it as a challenge.

“I’m listening,” Harry said. He sat down at the table and wandlessly pushed a chair back for Malfoy to sit in. Malfoy didn’t appreciate Harry’s neat trick with the chair, but he sat down nonetheless.

“All we need to do is pretend to be a couple for their wedding day. We get to the ceremony at noon and leave the reception at eleven at night, so that’s only eleven hours. When they get back from their honeymoon we can tell them we broke up because we weren’t a good fit or something.”

“What about the other people at the wedding? Like the Weasleys and Hermione and Pansy? Are we going to keep pretending around them while Blaise and Ginny are on their honeymoon?” Draco shrugged and took another swig of scotch. “Yes, I suppose. But we won’t be around them together, so it won’t be as hard.”

Harry nodded. He thought over the plan for about a second before he said, “Yeah, I’ll do it.”

“Of course you will. It’s an ingenious idea. Now, let’s get to work on our story. Who do you think made the first move?” …

Malfoy- no, Draco, Harry was supposed to call him Draco today- arrived bright and early at Harry’s house on Christmas Eve morning.

Harry shook off his nerves, took one last look in the mirror, and went to greet his fake boyfriend for eleven hours at the door.

When Harry opened the door and saw Draco, his jaw practically hit the floor. Draco looked handsome, but no, not just handsome, stunning. Gorgeous. His hair was styled off of his face, but he had used nowhere near the same amount of styling gel he used in first and second year. He wore midnight blue and white dress robes which brought out the blue hints in his eyes.

“What did I tell you about closing your mouth?” Draco said. When Harry’s jaw didn’t move, Draco put a finger under Harry’s chin and shut Harry’s mouth himself. He smirked as if he was rather pleased with himself. “Come on, Harry.”

After a moment, Harry followed Draco into the lounge.

“You remember the story we agreed upon, yes?” Draco asked as Harry got the Floo powder.

“Yes. Wait, sorry, I don’t remember our first kiss. When was it again?”

“October. We were standing under a lamppost. You leaned in first, then me. Remember now?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I think I got it. Let’s go.”

…

Draco and Harry’s fake relationship was first put to the test when the usher put them in the seats next to Neville and Luna at the ceremony.

“Oh, Draco,” Luna said, and she threw her arms around him. “I’ve missed you.” She realized Harry was sitting next to Draco and exclaimed, “Oh, Harry, I’ve missed you too.” She looked back and forth between Draco and Harry for a moment. “You two came together?”

Draco nodded. “We’re dating.” He took Harry’s hand in his own, and Harry had to convince himself that his heart was only beating so fast because he was scared of the plan not working.

Luna smiled. “That’s wonderful. Your auras really compliment each other, you know that? I’ve always thought you two would make a happy couple. Isn’t that right, Neville?” Luna said, turning to the man next to her.

Neville looked up from the wedding program, confused. “What?” He caught sight of Draco and Harry’s intertwined hands and his confusion grew.

“I said, I’ve always thought Draco and Harry would be good together. Isn’t that right, Neville?”

Neville’s brow furrowed. “Uh, yes you have. I just never thought it would actually happen.”

Luna nodded and smiled before turning back to Draco and Harry. “I am absolutely thrilled for you.”

Neville was frowning, but he congratulated them anyway, “Yeah. I’m glad you guys are happy.” Neville’s words were obviously supposed to be a statement but they came out more like a question.

Feeling oddly like he had to defend himself and Draco, Harry said emphatically, “Yes, we are very happy. Draco makes me smile everyday.” Harry glanced at Draco, who was looking at him with a slightly surprised expression, and gave a little smile that he hoped would inspire Draco to play along.

For some reason, Draco blushed. Then he cleared his throat and said, “Yeah, that’s, uh, yeah, it’s true. I’ve- I mean, we’ve never been happier.” Harry thought that was strange, as he’d never heard Draco speak so inarticulately before. He thought Draco might be nervous, so he squeezed  his hand. Draco blushed again and looked away.

“That’s nice,” Neville said. “When did-”

“Oh, Neville, the wedding will start soon, let’s watch for Ginny.”

…

Draco and Harry had gotten to the reception space while it was still fairly empty, and Draco took one look around the massive ballroom, said, “Lovely color scheme,” and then dragged Harry to the restroom to talk.

Draco fixed his hair in the mirror (Harry didn’t think it needed fixing) as he asked Harry, “How do you think it’s going?”

“I think it’s going well,” Harry said. “But the reception is going to be the hard part, isn’t it? We’ll have to talk to Blaise and Ginny, Hermione and Ron, and Pansy, and they’re going to be the most skeptical.”

“Yes, Granger did look a bit alarmed when she was walking down the aisle and saw us holding hands.”

“We’ll manage. Is there anything you think we need to review before we go out there?”

Draco smoothed down his robes and shook his head. “I think we’ll be fine.”

Suddenly, someone pounded on the door to the restroom, shouting, “Oi! You’re not the bloody Minister of Magic, are you? What gives you the right to hog the restroom?” “Shit,” Draco said. “We have to make it look like we were kissing in here or something.”

Harry frowned. “What? Why?”

“Why else would we be in here together for an extended period of time?”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Okay, well, what do people usually look like when they’ve been snogging in a restroom?”

“Um, their hair and clothes are messed up.”

Draco looked horrified. “There’s no way I’m messing up my hair or my robes. How else do people look when they’ve been caught snogging?”

“Their faces are red.”

“Well, shit, I don’t know how to make my face red. Maybe we should just- maybe it’s not-” It was clear to Harry that Draco was panicking, so he just acted on the first idea he had.

Harry put his hands on Draco’s arms and leaned in to kiss him. The moment his lips touched Draco’s, Draco froze. For a second it was rather awkward, but then Draco noticeably relaxed and kissed Harry back. His hands moved to circle Harry’s waist and Harry’s hands slid up to cup Draco’s jaw. They both melted into the kiss, and soon enough they were snogging for real. Then the knocking on the restroom door returned and they broke apart.

“Well, our faces are red,” Harry said. Draco didn’t reply, he just stood there with his lips still parted and eyes wide. Harry kind of wanted to kiss him again. Instead he grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the restroom.

…

The eleven hours were nearly up, and Draco was still thinking about that kiss.

For the most part, the day had gone exactly according to plan. Everyone, including their closest friends, believed that he and Harry were a couple. Initially Draco found that odd, but as the day went on he realized his very not-fake attraction to Harry must be apparent to the people around them. The only thing that had not gone according to plan this day was the kiss that Harry and Draco shared in the restroom. That perfect, infuriating, mind-blowing kiss which Draco was reliving in his head over and over until Harry approached him and shook him out of his reverie.

“I’m sorry, what?” Draco said.

“I asked you if you’d like to dance.”

Draco stared at Harry’s outstretched hand for a moment, but then he set his hand in Harry’s and smiled. “I’d love to.”

When they were out on the dance floor, their bodies moving in perfect harmony as if they’d been designed for this specific purpose, Harry pulled Draco close and spoke into his ear.

“Today was fun. More fun than I thought it would be.” “Yeah,” Draco agreed, not knowing how to say what he wanted to say. Luckily for Draco, Harry did know how to say what he wanted to.

“I’d enjoy being your boyfriend for eleven hours again sometime. Maybe even for longer than eleven hours.”

Draco pulled back from Harry just far enough to answer him with a kiss.

[jarrettfuller]

Put a bird on it

Prologue The most challenging design projects, they say, are the ones you do for yourself. Without parameters and constraints, timelines and clients, you miss the checks and balances that can often guide the process. The markers that tell you you're on the right track, moving in the right direction, are absent. When I was an undergraduate, I had a class where we had to design personal logos we could use on letterhead, stationery, and business cards in preparation for our impending job searches. It was honestly the hardest project of my college years.

Part 1: A Love Story On January 8, 2017, I proposed to my girlfriend, Eurry. It was three years to the day since our first date. We had met over a video conference when we both were working at Facebook; I was in San Francisco and she was in New York. I was a designer and she was a data researcher. One day in the middle of December, my team's project manager asked if I had some time to work on a small data visualization project for someone on the data team in New York. I reluctantly agreed. 'Small projects' always seemed to turn into 'big projects' and this was a team we hadn't worked with before. But a meeting was scheduled and I walked in knowing nothing. I was caught off guard when a cute girl wearing a black and white striped sweater from the New York office popped up on the video screen. I vaguely remember saying something to my project manager when we left the meeting about how cool Eurry seemed. I immediately sent her a Facebook friend request.

A few weeks later she was in the California office and we met in person to go over updates on the project. The meeting quickly turned into friendly conversation about our lives, discovering all sorts of shared interests. I didn't want the meeting to end. The next time she was in town, we went out for drinks and we have talked every day since, beginning what became a multi-year, bicoastal long distance relationship. We became best friends and fell in love.

We both eventually left Facebook — I went to graduate school and she went to work on Hillary Clinton's presidential campaign. We traveled, tried countless new restaurants, met each other's families, watched a lot of movies, and laughed a lot. We started talking about marriage, about moving in together, about our future. And then on a freezing, snowy morning last January after I pulled a ring from my pocket, I asked her to marry me. Through tears she said 'duh'.

But the story I'm writing here is not one of our relationship or of planning a wedding or even our wedding day. That's a story we want to save for our friends and family. Our married friends told us how all-consuming wedding planning can be so we decided early on that we'd share the planning responsibilities and take ownership over the parts we respectively cared more about. Eurry has stronger opinions about drinks, for example, so she'd handle the bar menu while I cared more about music and was tasked with choosing songs for our first dance and processional. You probably see where this is going: I was in charge of the visual design. And the visual design, it turned out, would be a special kind of challenge. This is a story about that process.

Part 2: Location, Location, Location Designing for our wedding became the hardest design project I've ever completed; certainly more challenging than those personal logos I did in college. It wasn't just about how I could represent our wedding visually but how to represent our entire relationship visually. We knew we wanted it to feel different — we wanted something casual and fun, informal and nontraditional. And we both desperately wanted to avoid the cliche calligraphy so dominant in wedding design these days. Almost immediately after we got engaged, I created a massive Illustrator file where I began setting our names in nearly every typeface I own in search of an interesting lockup or style that might emerge (perhaps something interesting with the double R's in both our names? Nope, too obvious), but for a long time it felt like I was going in circles, unable to figure out what our wedding should look like.

The biggest decision we had to make, however, was where we wanted to get married. One weekend last spring, we were sitting on the couch with our laptops looking at potential venues when Eurry found the John James Audubon House, located right outside Philadelphia and just forty-five minutes from where I grew up. We immediately knew this was where we wanted to get married. Audubon was a naturalist and a painter, most known for his paintings of birds. In an ambitious quest, he set out to paint every bird in North America, discovering at least twenty-five new species in the process. These paintings are collected in his famous book, The Birds of North America, which is considered the best ornithological work ever completed. This was Audubon's first home in North America and has since been converted to a public park, bird conservatory, and museum in his honor. We scheduled a visit a few weeks later and fell in love with the property — there was a beautiful apple orchard where we planned to hold the ceremony and an old barn perfect for a party. We picked a date and booked it.

It feels like cheating, but the venue helped clarify the visual design. The Audubon Society has made most of Audubon's paintings available in the public domain and offers high resolution reproductions as free downloads. I could use these images in the design! We both have love of birds and have a secret ambitions to get into birding. In fact, very early in our relationship, we laughed in amazement at how both of us had similar framed images of birds hanging in our apartments. Add the owl references from our favorite show and our love of Portlandia, a bird-themed wedding seemed perfect.

Part 3: Put a Bird On It With the venue booked and a library of high-resolution bird paintings on my hard drive, the design started to take shape. I went through countless typefaces — some were too formal and others too playful. I settled on ITC Serif Gothic for the logotype and Pitch for the accent typography. Serif Gothic is a typeface I've always admired but had yet to find an appropriate use for and Pitch has become a favorite monospace. Paired together, they immediately gave the design something that felt unique — blending the classic with the casual, the fun with the traditional.

I knew this would have to be treated like a brand — as it would be applied to everything from save the dates to name tags, invitations to menus — and needed to be flexible enough to work across mediums and scales. I decided we could allow design system to slowly reveal itself — using the incremental mailings, save the dates, invites, and RSVPs, to allow the entire aesthetic to unfold, each piece to increase in complexity and vibrancy as we got closer to the wedding day. The Save the Date cards that went out to our guests six months before the wedding were a simple black and white card, printed on a crisp white 130lb paper. A small vector bird perched atop an 'r' in Eurry's name hinted at the larger theme, the forest green envelopes previewed the color palette.

We directed guests to visit our website — eurryandjarrett.com — for travel and hotel details, links to our gift registry, and more information about the day itself. We used the website to introduce the venue and Audubon's paintings. The colors — forest green, a silvery-blue, and light pink — were pulled from a few of our favorite birds.

Three months later, the official invitations went out. Packaged in light blue envelopes, the invitations first appear to be black and white: the nameplate we introduced on the Save the Dates is on the front and opens for more information and RSVP details. But the invitation folds out one more time to reveal a large poster featuring a collage of Audubon's paintings, including the birds from which we pulled our colors as well as the state birds of California (where Eurry was born and where we met), Indiana (where I was born), New York (where we live now), and Pennsylvania (where I grew up and where we were getting married). We wanted something memorable — something that might not just be hung up on the refrigerator or thrown away after the wedding, but a piece of art our guests could remember our wedding by.

Part 4: The Day The design came together in a 20-page booklet I designed in place of a traditional program that included not only details about the day but also family photographs, a few of our favorite recipes, fun facts, and thank yous. Again, we wanted something people would want to keep — a scrapbook of sorts that our guests would feel invested in as they found photos of themselves and learn more about us and our story. The cover of the book expanded the collage from the invitation to include images of some of our favorite things and memorable moments in our relationship: the flowers from Eurry's bouquet, Twin Peaks and Portlandia, doughnuts, succulents, the Facebook sign, gummy bears, and ice cream.

Collage has become a go-to visual style of mine and is central to my own design process. For our wedding, I realized it could once again allow me to include everything we love instead of trying to find a color or style that somehow represented all of us. A key in the back of the book gave descriptions of everything hidden in the collage. This gave us variety in the design system while retaining a clear, distinct style; at once simple and diverse.

The venue offered their own signage, menus, and table numbers but we swapped them out for custom designs to match our design system. For dinner, three dishes were offered — chicken, fish, and vegetarian — and we asked our guests to select their preference on the RSVP cards. Their selections were noted on the name tags with small iconography to help the servers. (One of my favorite details: one couple brought their young child, who was served chicken fingers, and we noted his selection with a baby chick!). The florist decorated the tables forest green table clothes, navy napkins, and natural arrangements of ferns, succulents, and monstera. I designed table numbers that had Audubon's birds wrapped around each number, set in Serif Gothic that were placed in each arrangement. A small box with custom labels of black cherry gummy bears were set at each guest's plate as a small gift of thanks.

Beverages were offered before the ceremony started and were labeled with matching signage and drinks menus were displayed at the bar giving details on the wine and beer offerings. For the visitors who came in from out of town, a small gift bag was left in their hotel room with a few of our favorite things and a small postcard detailing the event (including the school bus that brought guests from the hotel to the venue!) and thanking them for coming into town. As if designing a brand system, every interaction our guests had at the wedding had been customized to match our design, from arriving at the hotel to the thank you notes sent out after. Each piece was fully branded and could stay on its own yet when brought together, created a narrative of our relationship.

It was fun to see it all come together and I enjoyed watching people read the booklets before the ceremony began. We couldn't have done it without the amazing team at Audubon and Jeffrey Miller Catering, who put it all together exactly like we wanted it. You can see more images of the design here.

Epilogue At the beginning of the summer, we got married in a barn in front of the people we love the most just as it began to rain. As we were pronounced husband and wife, Carly Rae Jepson's I Really Like You started playing. We moved to the pavilion where speeches brought us to tears; we ate and drank and thanked every guest for being there and being a part of our lives; we danced into the night as the rain poured outside.

The entire day feels like a blur to me. It was hard to take it all in. All the planning, all the designing, all the celebrating felt like a whirlwind. You know you've been to a good party, I think, when you have no pictures to remember it by. You were so in the moment you forgot to stop and document it. When we talked to our families the next day, none of us had any photos. So when we got our wedding photos back last week, we poured through every single one, reliving the day as spectators, piecing together the memories we had made. The same is true of the design. Designing for my own wedding was easily the hardest design project of my life because this wasn't another design or branding project but a scrapbook of our lives so far and a commemoration of our new life together. This was how we'd remember the day. Working on these pieces consumed our lives for the few months leading up the wedding and though it was just a small part of a day filled with friends and family and laughing and dancing and eating and drinking and birds and love. They serve as markers in time, totems for ourselves and our family and friends. Another way to remember a perfect day. It was the best day of my life. The next day, my face hurt from smiling so much.