#she won’t be able to graduate and go on to be a working dog

[teabookgremlin]

i’ve been obsessively checking facebook i feel like a boomer

[jhilsara]

Tie Me to You/ Chapter 7

Chapter Summary: Mika and James announcement party has finally arrived. Too bad her father knows how to ruin everything.

Word Count: 4.9k

<Last | Next>

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of past child abuse and neglect, emetophobia, small amounts of violence (breaking some bones), and alcohol consumption.

This fanfic will explore heavier emotions and will have eventual smut. Minors DNI

Can also be found on AO3 X

The water filled my lungs

I screamed so loud, but no one heard a thing

Rain came pouring down when I was drowning

That's when I could finally breathe

And by morning, gone was any trace of you

I think I am finally clean

Clean- Taylor Swift

Chapter 7

She’s going to be ill. 

 Mika is a thousand percent going to vomit and ruin all the hard work she’s done to prepare for tonight. Her stomach won’t stop doing acrobatics and she’s only spent her day running back and forth doing tasks. Set up the decorations, clean the backyard, call the caterers back, and most importantly, that the supplies for the candlelight vigil for her grandfather are ready go. The list goes on. Everything she’s been doing was to keep her mind from drifting. She’s done all she can now, with three hours to go until the party, she has nothing to preoccupy her vicious thoughts. 

Mika’s mind mostly consists of seeing her father and fearing the repercussions of her actions.  

David makes her feel small, like she’s just a part of a checklist of his life. 

Graduate top of class? Check. 

Go to an Ivy League? Check. 

Get married young? Check. 

Get into the family business? Check. 

Have a baby? Check. 

Be a good father? Check. 

Her father always had an uncanny ability to make her feel insignificant and dim. She believes his words, even if she knows in her heart, they aren’t true. It doesn’t stop the pain of knowing her father’s love comes with conditions. One’s that she has no want to fulfill. There’s the tiniest part of her, the part that is still a little girl, who craves her father's affections.  

Mika wishes that part of her would shut up, would understand that there’s nothing she can do to make that man happy. She’s never been able to appease him without losing herself in the process.  

Mika’s in the middle of retying the decorations on the staircase banister, gripping the ribbon tightly in her hands, she barely registers Damien’s hand stopping her.  

She quickly snaps her head to look at him questioningly, her brows furrowed in confusion, before she sees all the brothers at the bottom of the stairs. Mika doesn’t like how they're looking at her. It’s a worried glance and it has her gritting her teeth in frustration. 

 Was she so lost in her own fears about her father she didn’t even hear all five of them enter?  

“Mika, just breathe. Everything looks fine, the food caterers are here, and the sound system and bartender are already set up.” James tells her. “It’s going to be fine.” He shoots her a far too confident smile.  

“That’s not,” She sighs looking at the five of them, “that’s not what my problem is. I mean, yes, I’m nervous but it’s not the party I’m worried about...” she states picking at the petals of the flower on the banister. Mika can’t meet their eyes. Not when they give her that look of pity.  

“Your father won’t get near you.” Damien reassures her quietly.  

While the thought was reassuring, it didn’t change the fact that her father’s cold looks and sharp tongue hurt more than any hit ever could. She shudders as the image of his anger floods her mind. Damien squeezes her hand reassuringly. 

“It’ll be fine,” Sam’s gruff voice cuts in. He’s looking up at her, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. “Stick with me, I’ll be like your guard dog.” he offers with a crooked smile.  

Matthew laughs boisterously and pats Sam’s back, “Sam can frighten anyone away!”  

Sam’s eye twitches before he grabs Matthew by his head and shoves his little brother away.  

Matthew’s hands fly up and he pouts, “I just styled my hair dude!” He walks away to find a mirror. 

Erik rolls his eyes before walking up the stairs and guiding Mika away. “Go get dressed while we finish up. We got this.”  

She doesn’t have a chance to argue before she’s being shoved into her room and the door closes behind her.  

Around fifteen minutes before the guests are supposed to start arriving, there's a knock on her door. She’s at her mirror, staring at herself, trying not to feel the dread creeping its way up her throat.  

“Come in.”  

The door cracks open and it’s Erik. He’s giving her a soft reassuring smile. He’s in his own tux, a wonderful deep burgundy suit with a black undershirt. His own ginger hair is styled and out of his eyes, he’s quite handsome.  

They were all handsome, she thinks, they were sex demons. Handsome and sexy is written into their DNA. 

She turns to look at herself once more in the mirror, feeling inadequate. It’s the voice of her father seeping into the back of her head. She still hesitates to think she’s anything but plain looking.  

Erik comes behind her and places his hands reassuringly on her shoulders, looking at her in the mirror. 

“You look like a dream. I should know, since I picked out that dress.” he says proudly with a glowing smile.  

Mika looked at her reflection, the dress was gorgeous. A wonderfully elegant plum, to compliment her bright green eyes. It didn’t wash her out and somehow made her darker hair look luxurious. Mika runs her hands down the fabric, trying to straighten out the silk. It clings to her body in a way that is flattering, but also makes her feel too seen. 

“I don’t feel like a dream.” She replies, still feeling nauseous.  

Erik shrugs nonchalantly, he grabs her wrist to drag her away from staring at herself. “Let’s go take a shot of courage together. Tonight will be fine, we’re all here for you. You don’t have to face anything you don't want to alone.” he encourages. 

Mika nods, letting him guide her.  

She plays Erik’s words on loop in her head. She doesn’t remember the last time she didn’t feel the burning sensation of isolation when it came to events like this. She was so used to playing her part at parties or events. Being a perfect daughter with her perfect family, even if it was only a ruse.  

She easily follows Erik down to the bar and has the bartender pour them two shots.  

“Cheers!”  

She feels the liquor burn the back of her throat, but it’s better than the nervous somersaults in her stomach. She could do this. 

Before her shot glass even lands on the counter there’s a solid hand on her exposed shoulder, holding her firmly. She looks up to see Sam raising a brow but with a slight smirk on his lips.  

“Didn’t realize it was that part of the night yet.” he teases her. 

She flushes a bit in embarrassment and shoves him lightly, he doesn’t budge. His muscular frame is much larger and bulkier than hers. She couldn’t move him if she wanted to.  

“It’s just a shot of courage Sam relax.” Erik waves him off dismissively before walking away from the pair to go check on something else before the guests arrive.  

As Erik leaves them Mika’s eyes roam Sam’s figure. He also is in a tux, but much different from Erik’s extravagant one. Sam’s is simple, a black suit with an emerald green tie sitting loose around his neck.  

Mika reaches up to tie it. “Isn’t it too early to have a loose tie?” She shoots back at Sam looking up at him with a small teasing smile.  

Once done, she runs her hands down the tie to make sure it sits perfectly. She pats his shoulders with a job well done to herself. Sam’s face is burning red as he looks down at her with wide eyes. 

He coughs awkwardly, averting his eyes. “Thanks...” he mumbles.  

She nods and chuckles to herself before walking away shaking her head.  

As the evening progressed Mika’s emotions kept ping ponging around. Everything was moving in an increasingly fast blur. As members from her grandfather's company come pouring in, they immediately all make their way towards her. Each person offering their own condolences or some words of remembrance of her grandfather. She keeps her emotions in check, thanking every one of them properly. They lost him too after all. 

There’s a lull in arrivals that gives Mika some reprieve from conversation. She feels herself deflate as she walks over to the open bar. She needs another shot. Her college friend group is mingling at one of the tables near the open bar and she smiles at them. Hoping that talking with them will settle her nerves some.  

Mika feels someone watching her, not maliciously just watching. As she waits for her shot, she looks over her shoulder and sees Sam’s gaze meet hers while he stands at the door. Mika gives him a small smile and a halfhearted wave.  

Sam shoots her a nod of acknowledgement. He’s watching out. Her parents hadn’t shown up yet, and a part of her prays they wouldn’t. Mika knows that her father wouldn’t miss a chance to save face though. It’s good to know Sam’s sharp gaze is watching. She feels a bit more secure knowing someone is looking out for her.  

She wonders over to her friends after taking her shot, to try and relax a bit before she makes the announcement. It’s nerve racking that she’s giving up her title in the family company, but also freeing. James was right, her grandfather wouldn’t want her to be miserable. She just had to get through this party first.  

Mika feels her parent's presence before she sees them. It doesn’t help that her friends' conversation slows, almost quiets completely. She feels the mood immediately change and she doesn’t want to turn to see them. Mika feels herself clamming up and her heart racing, she wants to run away. She does not want to be here; she can’t face her father.  

Before Mika can even turn to look and spot her parents, there’s a large, warm, reassuring hand on her back. She looks up and sees Sam standing next to her. He’s not looking at her, but his glowering stare is enough to know who he’s directing that fire towards. Mika follows his gaze, and she sees her father, facing her, like he was about to come up. Sam’s aura is enough to send David running with his tail between his legs. Mika let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.  

“Thanks.”  

“Don’t worry about it, James is looking for you. It’s almost time.” Sam tells her, his eyes are hard as he still follows her father's movements.  

Mika nods, looks to the top of the staircase and sees James up there with the sound system and microphone. It was time. She takes a shaky breath. She waves goodbye to her friends and walks over to the staircase. Matthew was blocking one of the entrance ways and Damien the other.  

Matthew gives her a bright smile, “You’ll do great, and it’ll be over. Piece of cake!” he tells her reassuringly. She can only nod as she hesitantly walks up the staircase.  

James is finishing setting up with the sound guy and gives her a thumbs up. “It’s ready to go when you are.” Mika can only give a tight smile. She’s not ready. It’s now or never though as Mika looks down over the banister to see people starting to form a crowd and the media outlets set up their own cameras.  

Mika turns around to James, eyes wide in fear. James gently holds her shoulders, “You are okay. You are safe. You can do this; Harold wouldn’t want you to spend your life miserable.” His voice is firm and leaves no room for discussion.  

Mika takes a deep, grounding breath. She walks up to the microphone and turns it on. It’s now or never. As much as her palms are sweating, she can feel her legs shaking, she knows she must do this. Or she’ll be trapped with her father forever. Her father who is looking up at her with an unamused face ready to pass his divine judgement. She will forever fall from David Anderson’s good graces, but Mika finds that she is asking herself if she was ever in them. 

No, she settles on, she doesn’t think she ever was. Mika had to fight tooth and nail for her father’s love, and she doesn’t want it anymore.  

The microphone feedback sounds in her ear, and she looks out amongst the crowd. She tries to find faces she is comfortable looking at. Her friends are all close together, which makes it easy. She also easily spots Erik, Matthew, and Damien. Sam’s disappeared but that’s okay. He’s been acting as security all night, so he’s probably busy. She looks towards her friends, who are all smiling and giving her a variety of thumbs up in reassurance.  

Mika can do this. She smiles at the crowd and speaks into the microphone. “Welcome everyone from Anderson Toy Company! I’d like to say thank you for coming tonight. There will be a few announcements we will be making alongside hosting a celebration of life for my grandfather, Harold Anderson. The candlelight vigil will be held later this evening.”  

There are a few mummers of excitement, but they settle quickly. Mika grips the microphone tightly, bracing herself.  

“I know all of you are here to witness me step into the position of CEO since my grandfather selected me...” she pauses trying to find her voice. Hesitant to make her next statement. “I am here to tell you all I have hired a new CEO who will be taking my place in the company, starting tonight.”  

The room is filled with gasps. The once silent room burst into noise. The camera flashes aren’t helping the immediate fear strangling her. She’s almost done, she just has to announce James. 

Mika brings her shaky hand up with the microphone, trying to finish her statement.  

“I know you all were expecting me to step into this role. I was prepared to sacrifice everything to do this.” Mika’s voice is small, and the room is silent to hear her again.  

“After careful consideration, I cannot in good faith take the role of CEO.” She’s looking out at the crowd, finding her friends’ faces for comfort. “My grandfather left me the option to be CEO, but he would never have made me do it. Not if I wasn’t passionate. He would have wanted me to find something I cared about, like his toys!” Mika smiles to herself, knowing, in her heart, she’s right. She’s making the right choice. 

“I welcome you all to regard your new CEO with the warmth and joy my grandfather would have. Please welcome James Anderson.”  

Mika finishes and takes a step back, handing James the microphone.  

“You did great,” he whispers to her before taking the microphone and walking forward to address the crowd.  

Mika watches James for around two minutes before her nerves finally get to her and she needs to get away. James words mingle in the air, and she should be paying attention, but she’s truly going to be sick.  

Mika slinks to the back staircase, the one closer to the kitchen in the back. She knows everyone's at the front, preoccupied by James, so no one should be in the back. She rushes into the hall bathroom and locks it. She’s looking at herself in the mirror and it feels like an out of body experience. Her dress feels too tight, her eyes are glassy, and she can feel the sweat dripping down her back. Mika only has about another split second before she hovers over the toilet retching up her nerves and the two shots of liquor in her stomach. She hasn’t been able to eat all day and the way she’s dry heaving proves it.  

She feels better after the bile settles and her stomach stops acting like it wants to vacate her body. She stands back up, on shaky legs and wipes her mouth over the sink. Mika looks at herself again, this time she’s able to recognize herself. Her green eyes pierce through the mirror back at her. She’s in once piece, the world didn’t end, and she has some newfound freedom. 

Mika nods to herself and leaves the bathroom.  

“You ungrateful brat!” Mika’s vision goes blurry as she’s shoved against the closing bathroom door. There’s a tight, vice like, grip on her forearm. The voice hisses out to her, “You were left everything, and you take it all for granted!”  

Mika looks up and sees her father’s cold eyes glaring down at her. Of course, he’d notice her walking away and he knew she’d be in the back. He knows this house like the back of his hand.  

Mika tries to pry her arm away from her father, but his grip is iron. He pulls her closer, “You have let our family name tarnish within this company!” he whispers in his quiet rage.  

“Let. Me. Go.” Mika growls out at her father, trying to pry his hand off her.  

“No! Not until you understand that this is the biggest mistake you’ve ever made!”  

Mika’s eyes are filled with fear as she looks to where the crowd is. Too far away. Everyone’s too far away. She can still hear James on the microphone discussing future plans and answering questions. She’s on her own. She squeezes her eyes shut; she should have just stayed upstairs.  

“What are you going to do with that business degree, huh? Don’t you dare think I’ll be paying for those student loans!”  

Mika flinches as she hears his voice, the tone, the anger... it’s making her shrink back into herself. She’s looking at the ground, pressing herself as close to the wall as possible. Mika should have known that he would corner her. David Anderson never made a scene public, especially when it came to discipling her. He always knew how to make her feel insignificant, even in public.  

“I mean really Mika,” he scoffs at her, “did you really think you could just sleep your way out of your responsibilities? Whose son are you fucking to mess with me?! Who’s James?” David spits out. 

His glare is so fierce she shrinks back into herself. She feels the hot shame of tears pricking her eyes and she tries to turn away from him.  

“Look at me when I’m talking to you-” David’s voice cuts off. 

The tight, bruising grip on Mika’s arm is gone suddenly and she sees someone step between them. Forcing her father to back up considerably. 

“Didn’t you hear her? She said, let go.” Mika’s head whips up and sees Sam’s broad back. He’s using his large frame to block David; she can’t see her father past Sam’s muscular form.  

Sam’s voice is low and demanding, she almost didn’t recognize it. She can see that Sam has her father’s hand tight in his grip. Crushingly tight.  

“What are you deaf? Answer me.” Sam pushes, taking an intimidating step towards David.  

“How dare you!” David growls out. He’s frantically trying to wiggle out of Sam’s inhuman grip. Fear filled his eyes.  

Mika doesn’t think she’s ever seen her father afraid. He always seemed so untouchable. 

“How dare I?” Sam questions back with a dry laugh and a tone that’s dangerously dark. Sam’s still gripping David’s hand. His grip is so tight, her father’s hand is a ghastly white.  

“I’m not the one who’s attacking their own kid, am I?”  

David scoffs, “I’m not hurting her. This is family business and none of your concern!” her father's voice cracks, giving away his false bravado.  

“Oh? You sure about that?” Sam replies in irritation, he turns back towards Mika, who’s just been staring at his back. His face is hard as he narrows in on her forearm. She’s been clutching her arm to herself, trying to seem as tiny as possible. His green eyes look down, making eye contact with her, they soften as he takes her in. 

“Can I see?” He motions quietly for her arm; she just nods numbly and holds her arm out hesitantly for him.  

His touch is gentle, almost feather light, as he looks down and sees the hand shaped bruise forming. She sees his eyes flicker gold as his brow furrows. He clicks in tongue in irritation. He gently holds her arm out for David to see.  

“She fell.” Her father says without hesitation.  

She hears the bones crack with a sickening snap before she hears her father’s yelp of pain. Sam has broken or at the very least, severely fractured, her father’s hand.  

“It’s in the shape of your hand... I suggest you apologize and leave before I shatter all the bones in your hand and convince James to fire you. Wouldn’t that be a scandal?” Sam threatens, his voice low and clearly angry.  

His eyes are burning with rage, as he stares down at David. Sam almost towers over her father in this moment. As Mika stands next to Sam, she wonders how she was ever afraid of this small man, who is trying desperately to cling onto some power.  

“Mika, I am your father! He can’t do this to me!” he shouts, trying to leer around Sam and force Mika to look at him. Force her to listen.  

She almost would have, if it wasn’t for Sam. She’s gripping onto his suit jacket, clinging to his back. Sam turns to her briefly, “He needs to apologize to you.” Sam growls out.  

She hears more bones cracking; Sam isn’t letting up until David apologizes to her.  

The pain sends David over the edge, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry just let go of me!” her father cries out. 

Sam doesn’t stop glaring but releases his hold, “Piss poor excuse of a father.” Sam bites out glaring down at David.  

David clutches his fist to his chest, his fierce glare flighting between her and Sam. Mika hears the noise of the crowd dispersing, knowing that James is done with his announcements. Mika sees her mother walking towards them with a quirked brow.  

“David what happened?” She asks him casually, looking lazily between Mika and Sam. “Forget it Laura, we’re leaving.” David says clearly biting his tongue. 

Mika’s mother doesn’t say anything, just gives the briefest of waves as she rolls her eyes before walking behind her husband to exit.  

Sam stays in front of Mika until he knows that her parents have left his line of sight. He turns around to face her, but her grip is still tight on his suit. Her body trembles as she leans her forehead against his back.  

“Sorry, I...” Mika tries to talk but she just feels how dry her mouth is. She’s trying to breathe, but the whole event has her head swimming.  

Sam gently coaxes her hand off and pulls her into his chest. One arm wrapped tightly around her body, rubbing soothing circles into her back. “It’s okay, it’s over.” he whispers into her hair.  

She stays hidden in Sam’s embrace for a while. It isn’t until she hears more footsteps coming their way that she feels the need to pull back. She’s still in front of the only guest bathroom and she doesn’t need to be seen right now.  

Mika looks down at her arm and makes a face, “I can’t cover this up...” she mumbles looking at the disgusting handprint on her forearm. It’s a ghastly purple with yellows flowering underneath it.  

Her father’s left worse on her before.  

“Stay put, I’m going to grab Erik. I’m sure he can help.” Sam tells her reassuringly. He waits for her to agree before running off.  

Mika stands off to the side, holding her arm behind her back. She only noticed a handful of guests walking her way, all to use the restroom. She’s still safely tucked away from the major crowd. It doesn’t take more than a few minutes for Sam to come around the corner with Erik hot on his heels.  

Sam looks over to Erik, like his brother has all the answers he needs. Mika pulls her arm forward for him to look over it. She can’t look them in the eyes, embarrassment flushing her face as she looks down. Her eyes spot Sam’s fists curling and uncurling in unspent frustration.  

Erik hums in thought, before gently escorting her back upstairs. “I have something to fix this fashion wise. It’ll be fine.” he reassures. 

Mika keeps her head down as Erik takes her into his room. She just stares blankly at the large bruise on her arm. Wishing she wasn’t so afraid, or that she could be different. Sam was the complete opposite of her. He came right up to her father and had no issues telling him to fuck off. Mika had never seen her father in that light. One where he was fearful and tiny. Seeing David like that, the man who could make her feel like she was nothing more than a pawn in a chess game...he was just as easily broken as her. Had he always been so small and frail? 

“Foul man, I can’t believe he thought he could grab you like that! It’s a nasty bruise love.” Erik mumbles under his breath and he goes to dig around in his bin of costume pieces he was working on.  

Erik’s daytime job of working as a tailor and designer paid off in moments like this. He had so many side projects he was working on, he just kept things and usually it worked out. Like in this moment as he pulls a gorgeous pair of black opera gloves out.  

“If anyone asks you about the gloves, you’ve had them this whole time. Just gaslight them. Be confident.” he tells her with a wave. 

She lets out a soft laugh, “Thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it, just make sure you see Sam before you go out to mingle.” Erik says with his arms crossed. “He won’t say it, but he was worried. I haven’t seen him that furious in a minute.”  

She’s pulling the gloves on and nods her head in acknowledgement. She needed to thank Sam properly.  

Mika goes back down to the main entrance. She sees everyone has scattered about again. Off towards the side of the entryway, James is being interviewed by one of the many news outlets. She tries to avoid that, quickly walking in the opposite direction. The last thing she needs right now is a camera in her face. Mika’s eyes hunt to find Sam. She finally sees him leaning against the wall of the dining room. She smiles softly as she walks over to him.  

His eyes catch hers and Sam perks up in attention. “You okay?” He asks her once she’s closer.  

“As good as I can be.” Mika gives a shrug. She notices Sam’s eyes burning a hole in her arm, where they both know the bruise from David is.  

“Thank you by the way...I don’t know what he would have done if you hadn’t stepped in.” Mika admits softly, trying to cover her arm with her hand.  

The bruise may be hidden, but it still feels like a raw, open wound with the way Sam’s heavy gaze sits on it.  

“I should have been quicker... You weren’t supposed to be alone.” he murmurs as he looks up at her. His eyes are so intense when he locks his with Mika’s it sends a chill down her back.  

She’s moving before she can really register her actions. Mika grabs Sam’s hands, holding them tightly. “You were there, which is better than most...” her eyes fall to where their hands connect, “I’ve had worse.” she murmurs. 

Sam opens his mouth to respond, but what he sees over her shoulder has him relaxing a bit. He gives her a crocked smile and nudges her. “Your friends are looking for you. Go, we can talk later.”  

Mika gives him a puzzled look before turning to look. Her small group of friends are congregating at the closest standing table just watching her. One of them wiggles their brows suggestively at her. She flushes and rolls her eyes at them.

“I, uh, yeah. We’ll talk later.” Mika rushes out and turns on her heels to her friends. She hears Sam laughing behind her.  

“Sooooooo,” one of her closest friends, Suzu, teases with a vicious grin, “Who is big, bulky, and broody?”  

Mika groans and reaches over to swat at her friend. A blush still creeping up her neck. “He’s just a friend! Could you not?”  

Her friend just hums in amusement, “Sure, friends. Haven’t heard that one before.” 

Mika groans in annoyance.  

The night ends with the vigil for her grandfather. James and her usher everyone out to the backyard. Damien and Matthew hand out candles to each person as they go through the doors. Once outside Sam and Erik are lighting the candles. By the time Mika and James make it outside, there’s little space left. Almost everyone who came for the announcement stayed for the vigil to honor her grandfather.  

It warms her heart, knowing so many people did truly care. 

“Thank you all once again for coming, I’d like to take this time to talk about my grandfather, Harold Anderson. He gifted me so many things throughout the years, but nothing will ever compare to the love he left me.” She looks out at the crowd and her eyes stop as she looks at the incubi brothers who have steamrolled their way into her life.  

“I hope we all learn to love and give back like my grandfather.” Mika says sincerely with a smile. 

[softguarnere]

For Whatever We Lose

Lewis Nixon x OFC (slow burn, enemies to lovers) Chapter Eight: The Same Page

Summary: Sobel had fixed them with a harsh glare when he warned them, “Anyone who does not return at the exact date and time specified will be cut from the paratrooper training program!” A/N: Oh, hi! Is anyone still here? You know, since I haven't updated in *checks notes* four months - yikes This chapter was completed months ago, but I never had time to upload it or edit it because all of my post graduation plans completely fell through and I've been working on starting a new career that's completely different from what I thought I would be doing with my life right now. But I've missed this story and I have a spare second, so I thought I would finally update :) Thanks to anyone who has stuck around <3 Warnings: grief (briefly) Taglist: @kujofam @dcyllom

It simultaneously feels like a few days and endless lifetimes that they’ve been in Toccoa. Not many of them have realized this until Christmas rolls around and they’re told that they will be moving to North Carolina and that they’re allowed to go home for the holidays.

Sobel had fixed them with a harsh glare when he warned them, “Anyone who does not return at the exact date and time specified will be cut from the paratrooper training program!”

He says it with such conviction that Minerva almost doesn’t go home. Not many roads on the Outer Banks are paved, and ferries are used to get between islands. Travel depends on the weather. If it’s finicky, she won’t be able to get back in time. She’ll be cut from the Airborne. And what would everyone say then?

“You’ve got to see your family, though!” Webster exclaims when Minerva reveals that she doesn’t plan on going home one morning at breakfast.

“I want to.” She really, really does. She wants to see Pop’s proud face when he sees the stripes on her uniform, her father to plant a kiss on her forehead, to hug her mother and breathe in her sweet perfume. She’ll even endure her brother’s stupid dog who probably still hasn’t learned to quit yapping twenty-four-seven. “I don’t know how it would work, though. Unless I only stay for a few days and then try to come back early.”

The second the words are out of her mouth, she realizes that it’s not that bad of an idea. Because yes, she loves her family, but they’re not the only ones on the Outer Banks. If she returns home, she’ll have to see the Teach family, and the Beauchamps . . .

“You know what? I will go,” Minerva agrees, which makes Webster smile. “The deadline will just be my excuse to come home early.”

By the time she and Diana meet with the lieutenants that evening, the idea is so set in her mind that she’s able to answer with more confidence when Winters asks if she’ll be going home for Christmas.

“What about you?” She asks, always with the southern niceties.

Winters smiles fondly as he answers. “Yep, I’ll be heading home to Pennsylvania. I want to say goodbye to my parents and family before we get shipped off.” He tilts his head. “What about you, Minerva? Do you have any siblings?”

Across the table, Nixon, who has been brooding into a cup of coffee, suddenly looks up. One of his dark brows quirks in interest, his dark eyes watching Minerva as she attempts to answer.

“A brother. Just the one.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” Winters says thoughtfully. “Is he in the service? Or is he younger?”

Minerva bites the inside of her cheek. Describing John-Michael to people who have never met him is hard. Hopefully the lieutenant won’t ask her for details if she gives him the bare minimum, albeit truthful, answer.

“He’s my twin brother, actually,” she replies. “But no, he’s not in the service.” She decides to beat any questions to the punch. “Doctor won’t let him serve.” There.

“How about you, Diana?” Nixon interjects. “Got any siblings?”

Diana’s eyes widen at the direct question. She jumps slightly, the coffee in her cup sloshing a bit. “Three brothers, two sisters,” she answers.

The conversation moves on to other things. But while Minerva sips her coffee, she could swear that she feels Nixon watching her – studying her, even – from across the table.

She refuses to look at him. He can look at her all he wants, regret what he’s missing out on.

Enjoy the view, she thinks as she nods along with something that Winters says. Because it’s all you’ll get.

Diana is too timid to be the bad guy, which means that it’s up to Minerva to issue the ultimatum before the girls leave for the holiday. Which is fine. She’s been the bad guy before, at work, at home – everywhere, according to some people. Later, she’s not even sure what she tells the girls about how crucial it is for them to make it back from Christmas on time, but the familiarity of the job leaves a tight feeling in her chest that doesn’t begin to ebb until the Albemarle Sound comes into view. 

Despite everything that happened last time she was home, the ocean sprawling on either side of her calms her nerves as she travels down the familiar barrier islands. When she was a child, her father used to bring her back books from the mainland when he returned from selling their catch. Ever since he gave her that first book about Greek mythology, she’s always imagined Poseidon lurking somewhere out there in that vast, endless blue, his very breath sending in the waves that lap against the shore, wearing away at them. She’s only been gone a few months, but her eyes recognize every subtle change in the landscape where the water has reshaped the restless ribbons of sand.

If Poseidon were real, he could have stopped the Turkey Shoot, she thinks to herself when the first Lifesaving Station comes into view. But then, she realizes, I wouldn’t have joined up.

It’s the first of many hard truths that she’ll have to contend with now that she’s returned home.

The barking starts when she’s only just in sight of the house. It’s coming from the backyard, as usual. And as always, Minerva pushes a hard sigh through her nose, just like she would when walking home from the school in the afternoons. Shut up, Sparky.

She should have written ahead to warn her family that she was coming, but she didn’t want to get their hopes up. After all, she wasn’t planning on returning until David talked her into it. So it’s not until she’s knocking on the door that anyone except John-Michael’s dog has any clue that she’s back.

The door opens to reveal a tall, dark-skinned man who peers at her from behind large, wire rimmed glasses. His face cycles between shock and confusion before it settles into a well-worn smile.

“What’s up, duck?” He asks.

Minerva can’t contain herself any longer. Trying to suppress the joy that rushes into her heart would be as useless as trying to restrain the ocean itself. She drops her bags and throws herself into her grandfather’s arms.

“Hey, Pop!”

“Who’s at the door?” A woman’s voice asks. Footsteps approach, and Minerva glances up to see her mother, who freezes in her tracks. “Minerva?”

“Minerva?” A man’s voice echoes as her father sticks his head out of a side room and sees her for the first time.

It’s the best kind of chaos, being swept up by her family like this. Realistically, she’s known that she has missed them. But it’s not until they’re showering her with affection that she realizes just how much.

And she’s been so busy trying to become a paratrooper that she hasn’t stopped to think about what she might be missing back home. Time did not stop passing while she was away. If anything, it sounds like it’s been moving faster since she left. Her family has been catching her up on everything she’s missed since she stepped in the door, and they’re well into dessert that night before the list of changes shows any sign of expiring. Minerva has just taken her last bite when the door opens to signal John-Michael’s arrival, which changes the course of the conversation as swiftly as a riptide.

“Minerva!” Her brother’s face lights up when he sees her. Never a hugger – or one for any kind of physical contact, really – he offers her a nod and a bright smile as he takes his usual place beside her at the dinner table. “You’re back!” He tilts his head, smile wavering in confusion and the upmost concern. “Why are you back? Have you been discharged?”

“I’m on leave for Christmas,” she assures him. “They haven’t managed to get rid of me yet.” Then, for good measure she adds, “And they won’t that easily, no matter how bad they want to.”

Pop freezes with his glass of water halfway to his mouth. He peers over the wire rims of his glasses, glancing between Minerva and her parents, waiting to see if they’re as concerned as he is.

The room holds its breath for a moment while everyone waits to see if Minerva will elaborate. When she doesn’t, Pop finally asks, “What do you mean, Mimi?”

Only Pop ever calls her that specific nickname. He’s used it less and less as Minerva has gotten older. If he’s pulling it out now, he must be full of worry.

Pop has a lot on his plate. Her whole family does, what with manning light stations and keeping the houses of their upper-crust, seasonal neighbors spotless. But Minerva has a lot on her plate, too, and she’s not sure how much longer she can keep it to herself without confiding in someone.

She sighs, making up her mind. Then, she tells them all about what it’s really like to be a female paratrooper.

Someone has been in her room since the last time she was home. It’s not like Minerva has anything to hide – anymore – so it’s not like this is the end of the world the way it would have been when she was fifteen. Still, the mirror over her vanity that she shattered the last time she was here has been replaced. Her mother must have come in to clean and discovered the smashed looking glass, the reflective shards strewn everywhere. No doubt she’ll have to explain that at some point during her visit.

Minerva turns her back on the new mirror and begins unpacking her bags. There isn’t much besides some letters that she wants to leave here so that they don’t get stolen. Or so she thinks, until she finds the bundled pair of socks in the bottom of her back.

The rolled pair is heavier than the others. The familiar weight of the secret is an anchor that immediately pulls her down onto her bed, staring at the bundle in her hands in disbelief. At the beginning of her time in Toccoa, this had been something that she thought about nearly every second of every day. Now . . . When was the last time she thought about this? What kind of person is she, if she could forget such a thing?

Helen was right, she thinks, hands trembling as she unrolls the socks to reveal the wad of letters folded up inside. I am a bad person.

Carefully, she unravels the small pile of letters until she reaches their center. When her eyes catch the rumpled yellow telegram they conceal, she pauses and sucks in a sharp breath before she can continue. She has not looked at this telegram since the day it arrived in Toccoa with the letters from her family and friends in Frisco – and she has not dared think about what hides between the folded yellow slip.

The ring sparkles, catching the light as she removes it from its hiding place. The chain it hangs on feels cold to the touch, just like the ice water currently churning in her stomach does. What would Jack say, if he knew that he spent all that money on an engagement ring just for Minerva to stow it away – out of sight, out of mind – the second that she was informed of his death? She should have kept that chain around her neck so her dead fiancé could be forever close to her heart.

There’s a soft knock at the door. Before Minerva has time to reply, the door opens and her mother sails in, just like in the old days. Although this time she freezes halfway to the bed when she sees what Minerva holds in her hands.

“Oh, Minerva.” In a second, she’s on the bed beside her, and Minerva has folded herself into her mother’s enveloping arms in a way that makes her feel like a small child who has just run to her mother after scraping her knees. “He loved you more than anything,” her mother finally whispers as she smooths Minerva’s hair.

She should be crying. Or at least she feels like she should be. Instead, Minerva lets her mother rock her back and forth while she squeezes the ring in her hand, staring at the new mirror above her vanity.

“Everything has changed,” she finds herself whispering the same realization that she had on the Women’s Division’s first night out. Except this time, it hits her even harder, because she’s in her old bedroom, but there is nothing familiar about the place anymore.

Just a few months ago, she was kissing her fiancé and wishing him luck as he joined the Navy. Then she herself had volunteered for the Airborne when it was announced that they would be accepting women for a new program. That’s when it all unraveled – when she had to break a mirror to destroy her reflection because it only showed her someone that was a showoff, who was vain, and who was an all-around bad friend. According to Helen Beauchamp, that is. God, she hopes that she doesn’t run into her former best friend while she’s home. That would be the last thing she needs, something she couldn’t withstand the pressure of.

When she finally comes back to herself, Minerva disentangles herself from her mother’s embrace and stares numbly at the ring still caressed in her palms.

“I should return it to Jack’s mother,” she decides aloud. “It feels right for her to have it.”

Her mother reaches up and smooths Minerva’s hair in a way that she only does when trying to comfort her – something Minerva really can’t remember the last time she did. “It’s up to you. He bought it especially for you, though.”

The cool band presses against her palm as Minerva closes the ring in her fist, squeezing it tight, as if demanding it spill out an answer. She’s so focused on the sensation that she almost doesn’t notice her mother’s featherlight touch on her arm.

“I have something for you.” Beneath them, the mattress shifts as Minerva’s mother repositions herself, removing something from her pocket in the process. Gently, her slender fingers unclench Minerva’s fist and place something in it.

She’s speechless when she realizes what she’s just been handed. There’s a moment of silence before Minerva finds her voice again. She fingers the pearls as if they might break, tracing the silver cross even more gently. “Your rosary?”

“You need it now more than I do,” her mother explains. “I would just feel safer knowing that it was protecting you.”

That statement really says something. This pearl rosary is the only connection that Minerva’s mother has to her past.

When she was about nineteen – or so everyone reasons – she had washed up on the shores of Cape Hatteras in a tattered dress with no memory, no name, and no idea where she was or how she got there. Her only possession was the rosary around her neck, which she clung to with an iron grip. Nevertheless, her frightened eyes and amnesia could not detract from her queenly stature.

It had been Minerva’s father who had found her as he walked from the Life-Saving Station to exchange his chit with the Surfman at the next station. He himself came from a proud line of people who had occupied the Outer Banks since the beginning of time – his family proudly joked that they had been the ones to welcome the Roanoke Colony settlers to the island, even though Minerva was pretty sure her father had stolen that joke from Will Rogers.

For her mother to offer her the only link to her past, to tell Minerva that the very item that had protected her for so many years would now offer her protection in war . . . A tugging sensation that Minerva has not felt for months floods her chest.

“Mom,” she breathes. “Thank you.”

There were so many times throughout her childhood and teenage years that Minerva felt that she didn’t understand her mother, that her mother didn’t understand her. It often felt like they were speaking a different language, and Minerva had forced herself into a mold to get along with her, to be perfect for her.

Now, though, when her mother slips the rosary over Minerva’s neck and embraces her once again, for the first time, it’s like they’re on the same page.

[literaryoblivion]

Abandoned WIP-Sterek

As stated before, this is an abandoned WIP snippet. I’ll tag them with #my abandoned WIPs to organize it. If you see any and are so inspired by any of these to either create your own or finish, PLEASE tag me! I’d love to see if someone was able to take it and run with it since it stalled out for me.

Stiles had assured his dad he would be perfectly fine. So what if he was going to a cabin he rented out in the woods far removed from wi-fi and probably cell towers alone for the weekend? He was bringing his dog, Tiger, with him! He’d be fine! And if something happened, Tiger would totally protect him!

“He’s a terrier mix. He’s barely thirty pounds. There are plenty of animals in the woods bigger than him,” his dad had said, un-amused and face deadpan.

“But he’s fierce and protective! I gave him his name for a reason, Dad. He’s growled at plenty of ne’er-do-wells for me. I just held him back from attacking.”

His dad had lifted an eyebrow. “Uh huh. Well, you call if you need something. I don’t like it, but you’re an adult, and I very well can’t tell you that you can’t go.”

“Damn right! I mean, I’ll be fine, but if not I’ll call. But, I won’t ‘cause I’ll be fine.”

It was about 4 hours away from home, so it’s not like he was going to be super far anyway. He needed to get away though. He liked home, don’t get him wrong, but having moved back to his hometown after he graduated college and working a regular 9-to-5 job drained on him after awhile. He was trying to save up for a big trip, maybe Hawaii or New York, but it’d be a long time before he had enough money to do that. SO cabin in the woods for the weekend it was.

It would be great, he’d hike around with Tiger, who Stiles was positive would love being out in nature and be able to run around more than the small fenced in dog park would allow. And Stiles could take it easy, get some reading done, maybe write that great American novel he always fantasized about writing. It was going to be awesome.

“Is your car going to make it? Didn’t you just have to get a bunch of repairs done?” his dad had asked.

“How dare you talk about Roscoe like that, and yes, she’ll be fine. All the repairs were in preparation for this trip, okay? She’s trustworthy and loyal, and she won’t let me down.”

His dad had sighed. “Fine, but when you have a cell signal, you let me know where you are and if you made it okay and when you’re leaving to come back. I’m sure this place isn’t as remote as you like to think it is.”

“Okay, Dad, I will. I promise.”

And true to his word, he texted his dad when Tiger and he left his apartment, sent a selfie when they stopped for a pee break and for gas. And he lucked out and had one bar right outside the park where the cabin was to text his dad that he had made his destination.

He grabbed the key and the map to his cabin from the lockbox outside the closed office and found it rather easily. He unloaded the groceries and settled into the cozy cabin. It was small, but for just him and Tiger, it was perfect. Tiger sniffed around like crazy, distracted every once in awhile by the fly buzzing around the cabin.

“This is going to be great, huh boy?” Stiles said to Tiger who was clearly not paying attention.

It was still light enough out that Stiles decided to take Tiger exploring around the grounds. Once they were outside, Tiger was having a field day, exploring and sniffing at all the plants and dirt piles they passed.

The cabin was within walking distance of a lake, and it was rather pretty with the sun setting. Stiles took a few pictures of it, trying to get Tiger within the frame, but the dog was moving too much for any of them to be good.

***This was based on a personal experience and I was trying to make it a Sterek meet-cute: Basically my dog and I went to a cabin in the woods in OK for the weekend and my car battery died. I had someone in the cabin next to ours jump start my car and then drove to a "car mechanic" place I found on Google in the middle of nowhere that ended up being some guy's personal garage. He was SUPER nice and basically gerry-rigged my car so I could make it back to TX. Plus, when I didn't have cash to pay him, his wife drove me to an ATM and they gave me food.***

[amplifyme]

A Necessary Evil

The X-Files. MSR. Rating: Teen and up. WC:2351. Read on AO3.

Tagging @today-in-fic

So it’s time to fess up.  To lay bare the part of himself he’s not so proud of. Here goes: Fox Mulder is skilled at seduction. He always has been. From as far back as middle school, he’s known. He looks at himself in a mirror and sees only the flaws. The ridiculously large lower lip. The small triangular eyes. The undersized chin with not enough room between it and the aforementioned lip. The overly broad and large-scale nose. But for some reason beyond any logic, and put all together, those features have had teenaged girls, and then women, falling at his feet for as long as he can remember. It’s as simple as his attentive gaze aimed in their direction.

And, okay, yes, he’s been blessed with a tall and naturally lean body. And he likes to work it, discover its limits. He pushes his body as stringently as he does his far-out theories. So he’s managed to gain a strong back and lean, muscled arms and legs; a swimmers physique and a coveted six-pack. And all with enough ease that he quit going to the gym years ago. Running, swimming, and pickup basketball games have replaced gym equipment, and he attempts to keep mind and body in synch with yoga too, though he won’t ever admit to that particular discipline, even to the few friends he has. Like his looks, he can’t help what his genetics have given him. It’s all just a result of his unique mishmash of genes, and maybe some dumb luck. But that doesn’t mean he’s not above using what he’s got to further his crusade - in ways both monumental and small.

His glibness, which some might call charm, comes naturally too. He’s an equal opportunity flirt. He always has been. And he’s rarely caught unable to offer a smooth, witty retort or a wry observation. He can’t explain this either. It’s simply who he is. Although it does help that he genuinely loves women. He finds them fascinating and mysterious puzzles, loves attempting to assemble their enigmatic ways into a kind of pattern that might afford him some answers to the great unknown. He loves to converse with the fairer sex, especially the ones who can keep up with his esoteric banter. More than anything else, he loves the opportunity to give them what they want most from him. And a lot of the time that means giving them parts of himself: his body, his mind, even his heart if they’re exceptional enough.

He lost his virginity at fifteen to a girl a few years older and on the cusp of her high school graduation. He was clueless aside from the alleged personal knowledge of his friends, the old, dog-eared copies of Playboy he snatched from his dad’s bottom dresser drawer, and his own determination to do for a woman what was expected of him as a man. Luckily, the girl who popped his cherry had more experience and the confidence necessary to begin to turn his enthusiasm into proper technique. The rest he learned from books and films once he was out of high school, independent for the first time, and housed in a third-floor flat right outside the grounds of Oxford University proper.

And then had come Phoebe.

If he was naturally gifted and confident in his technique, Phoebe was a Jedi Master when it came to seduction. And she punched way, way above his weight. She was both a revelation and a nightmare. She did things with him that he never could’ve imagined, let alone actually engaged in. There were still blocks of time so lost to the haze of drugs, alcohol, and depravity that he’ll never be able to recollect them with any clarity. She had his number almost from the start and didn't hesitate to fuck with his head with as much ease and skill as she fucked him in other ways. And there he was, a psych major. He should’ve known better.

But he loved her. And that’s when he learned that book knowledge could never trump the lessons learned while attempting to dissect Phoebe’s twisted mind. She took his love, his trust, and used it as a weapon against him.

He took those lessons with him to the FBI Academy. They pursued him with such fervor that he couldn’t deny them his as-yet-untested investigative skills and his spooky intuition. He was, soon after, deeply entrenched in the VCS and profiling criminals who sometimes paled in comparison to Phoebe Green’s mind games. He also managed to work his way through a majority of the female staff surrounding him. He’d make it clear from the first encounter that it would never be more than two consenting adults indulging in adult behavior. He wasn’t looking for his one true love. And romancing them, though the various techniques came easily, was not an indication of any desire to make permanent a temporary liaison; something lasting beyond a few rolls in the hay. He knew when to cut any fragile ties that might develop. He didn’t have time to waste on such trivialities. He was going to change the world and it wouldn’t be with his dick. Love and attachment had no place in his life anymore. Not after Phoebe.

But then had come Diana.

Leggy, dark haired, blessed with a steel-trap mind and an incredible set of tits. Yes, she was older than him, but she listened to him, encouraged him, praised him. And eventually she’d joined him in his bed, as well as in his explorations of a small and rarely mentioned off-shoot of FBI investigations classified as X-Files. Unexplained phenomenon. He found himself besotted with them, and with her. She lay next to him through many nights and had soothed him after the nightmares that’d plagued him most of his life. Diana encouraged him to seek out regression hypnosis to find answers to questions he’d been asking since his sister had vanished. She told him she loved him. He’d said, “Marry me,” and she’d said, “I do.”

He should have known better. But he loved her, too. And five months later she was gone. She took his love, his trust, his belief, his newfound quest, and used those things as an excuse to rip them asunder.

What good is innate charm when it comes at such a price? What good is seduction when it only postpones an inevitable loss? What good is love and intimacy when they only wound?

He sat in the half-empty apartment that was now his alone for three straight days. Diana hadn’t taken any of the alcohol, so he worked his way through the half-empty bottles of Chivas Regal and Absolut, sipped at the sickly-sweet brandy she liked before bed, pounded shots of Jose Cuervo. He didn’t bother turning on a light when the sun set. His phone didn’t ring. He didn’t shower and ate straight from containers of Chinese food and the flat boxes of pizza he had delivered. He watched mindless television or sat in silence. He didn’t bother with the marriage bed; his couch was good enough to sleep on and had room for only one. It was fitting because now he was only one. The loneliest number.

By the morning of the fourth day, he had a plan. He knew what he had to do. No more distractions, no more giving in to the weaknesses of the heart. Nothing but seeking the answers to his questions. And those lay within the X-Files - he was more certain of that than ever. He got back on his feet, dusted himself off, and went back to work. He fought harder than he ever had before for those discarded and dusty files. And finally, finally, they officially set him free from the serial killers and the pedophiles and the worst of humanity and sent him down to the basement of the Hoover building. He lived and breathed the work there. He buried himself in years, decades, of unanswered questions, certain that he would be the one to uncover the truth of what had happened to his sister, and to the larger mysteries of existence that everyone else seemed so uninterested in delving into. This was his mission. This was his calling. Nothing else mattered.

Then came Scully.

He opened his copious bag of tricks, both innate and learned through experience, when he found out she was on her way. He read everything he could find on her before she showed up. And when she did, he established a boundary from the get-go, addressing her not as Agent or Dana, but simply as Scully. He dialed up the charm, the casual game of seduction he knew so well, fully intending to use it against this usurper and cause her to trip up, to make a mistake that would force her away in either shame or disgust. He honed the sharp edges of his sarcasm and was prepared to cut her deeply with his casual disregard. He was already skilled at pulling women into his orbit. Combined with what he’d learned from Phoebe and Diana about the fine art of the emotional drawing and quartering of one’s prey, he didn’t think Scully would last a month.

But somehow, somehow, she saw him and who he truly was. Listened to him. Respected him, even if she initially bought into his reputation and thought him spooky and unhinged. She offered him her soft underbelly on the first night of their first case. And despite his determination to treat her as the spy she’d been sent to be, he couldn’t help but show her vulnerability in kind. He told her about Samantha.

And she stayed. She stayed despite his bad behavior and his obviously practiced performance; the means of disarmament that’d always served him so well before. And soon he realized she was just as unhinged as he was, just as passionate. Not in the same ways, of course, because she was firmly rooted in science and the desire to prove his extreme theories wrong. But she was fearless and feisty, infinitely curious, and willing to go beyond what any sensible person might do in order to further his cause. Even as she slowly came to realize he might be right more often than not, that this singular obsession of his took precedence over everything else, she stayed. Scully always stayed.

Seven years on, seven years of heartache and grief and losing more than they’ve gained, she remains by his side. And somewhere along their journey it’s become less about the work and more about the two of them, what they’ve built together. He occasionally worries that maybe he hasn’t always been honest enough with her, that she took his early subterfuge at face value, even after he'd dropped all pretenses. He worries that he may not be the man she thinks he is, and that eventually she'll figure that out and leave him.

He gets up and pulls her from her seat at the empty local pizza place in Nowhere, Nebraska just as the jukebox begins to play the last song he selected after feeding it quarters on the way to their booth.

“Mulder, what are you doing?” she grumbles in mild annoyance. It’s been a long day and they’re both dead on their feet. And now he’s dragged her away from the first slice of sausage and mushroom already on its way to her mouth. Her fingers are slightly greasy as he clasps them in his and gives her a little twirl before pulling her close.

He can do this kind of thing these days, when they’re in the field and not likely to be seen and reported for conduct unbecoming of Special Agents with the FBI. He can get them adjoining rooms, with their respective connecting doors left unlocked for clandestine visits after they’ve showered away the remains of their day. He can fully and unabashedly use all those powers of seduction and charm that he’s honed over the years. And Scully reaps the benefits. They both do. It works every time now. His myriad talents are a necessary evil.

“I’ve got you under my skin,” he tunelessly croons in her ear, murmuring along with Frank on the jukebox. “I’ve got you deep in the heart of me. So deep in my heart you’re really a part of me,” he finishes, gazing down into vivid and grudgingly tolerant azure eyes. He dances her in between tables and across the empty tiled floor as the horn section revs up and kicks in.

“Aren’t you a bit young to be a Sinatra fan, Mulder?” she asks after a minute or so. He catches the corner of a smile she’s trying to suppress.

“They’re called classics for a reason,” he argues. “Old Blue Eyes will never go out of style.” She finally relents a bit of her reserve and lays her cheek on his chest. “Tell me something, Scully.”

“What do you want me to tell you?” she asks, peering up at him with fondness. The tone she's using is one she normally reserves for small children or fat little puppies.

“Did I,” he hesitates, “…did I seduce you? Has everything led to this because of something I did years ago?”

She bursts out with a short, sharp peal of laughter and pats him on the chest with her free hand. “Don’t be an idiot, Mulder. I seduced you.”

He grins down at her and they dance a little more, the lone waitress shooting them a mildly curious look from her perch at the counter housing the cash register.

“I would sacrifice anything, come what might,” Scully begins softly singing, negating any advantage she might’ve had over him for being such a nerd and celebrating Frank Sinatra’s genius. “For the sake of having you near. In spite of the warning voice that comes in the night and repeats. How it yells in my ear, ‘Don't you know, little fool, you never can win?’”  

But that’s the thing. They have won. And right now, that’s good enough. Right now, it’s everything.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Notes:

I'm sorry. No idea where this came from, and it's very much stream-of-consciousness. That's becoming a pattern these days. I’d call it just another random brain dump, but instead of getting it out in a tiny chunk, this one took on a life of its own and tortured me beginning to end. I don’t question the muse. She’s driving this train, not me.

Until next time…

[pocket-luv101]

Wildflowers

Fandom: Genshin Impact Ship: CynoNari

Summary: Cyno volunteers to provide security for Pardis Dhyai’s exotic plant cultivation.

“There will be more visitors at Pardis Dhyai than usual today. You should go into standby mode deeper in the greenhouse.” Tighnari told Karkata. The mechanical crab rumbled and its metal plates slumped inward in disappointment. Despite being a machine, Karkata was as expressive as a living being. He lightly patted Karkata’s head. “Must I remind you that the Akademiya will confiscate you if they learn of your existence. I’ll give you a reward once I’m done with work.”

Tighnari found Karkata while investigating a contaminated zone in the forest. While he only took a few classes with the Spantamad, the concept of mechanical life fascinated him. Something that appeared cold and restrained could hold more warmth than the scholars he knew. That could also describe people he loved. People called Cyno cold and others would fear Collei due to the vengeful god within her. With that comparison, he decided to save Karkata and make it a research assistance.

He needed to keep Karkata in Pardis Dhyai to keep it hidden from the Matra. Ironically, it was the General Mahamatra himself who helped him hide Karkata. Cyno graduated from the Spantamad Darshan and he was able to give him advice on how to care for the mechanical crab. Most people only saw Cyno as the General Mahamatra but Tighnari knew him as so much more. He was a proud Matra, a caring father to Collei and a childish TCG player. Tighnari loved each aspect of him.

“The Amurta students will be here in an hour so you don’t need to hide yet. You can help me set up the plant cultivation. Come inside too, Cyno.” Tighnari looked over his shoulder to the entrance and grinned when he saw Cyno. He could sense whenever Cyno was nearby from his unique footsteps. Karkata ran around Tighnari and to Cyno’s side. As if it were a dog, it rose onto its hind legs and waited for him to pet it. “Karkata has taken a liking to you, Cyno.”

When he first brought Karkata to Pardis Dhyai, it was rather protective of him. He understood that Karkata didn’t want to lose another master like it did with Abattouy. It slowly came to trust Cyno. Cyno placed a yellow flower into the slit of Karkata’s shell and the crab scurried back to Tighnari. Tighnari giggled and lifted the flower to his nose. “Did you teach Karkata this trick?”

“Karkata is a quick learner.” Cyno’s smirked. The slight tilt of his lips and the rare sight made his heart race. He usually wore a stoic expression and Tighnari loved the moments Cyno could be himself. He walked across the greenhouse to his side and he picked up a potted plant. “Is this one of the exotic plants for the seminar? I’ll carry it outside for you.”

“As long as I don’t take too much of your time. I’m guessing that you’re on patrol but stopped by. Collei cooked more than enough food for the researchers and students so you should take a pita pocket. She won’t mind. Actually, she has been testing new recipes for our next dinner with you. She’s excited. Do you know the next time you’ll be free and we can eat together?”

Tighnari asked the question for both Collei and himself. They both had busy jobs so it would be selfish of him to expect him to spend every night together. Yet, there was still a part of Tighnari who yearned for that. No matter how difficult the distance could be, he wouldn’t choose anyone but Cyno. They would create a future for Sumeru where they could be together each day without worrying about their jobs.

“I’m here to provide security for Pardis Dhyai’s plant cultivation exhibit and I’ll be free after that. I can have dinner with you two after the plant cultivation.” Cyno told him.

“Security?” Tighnari flicked his finger against a leaf from the plant Cyno carried. “I’m an expert on plants and I don’t see much of a threat here— let alone one that requires the attention of the General Mahamatra. Is there something I should know? Do you suspect that someone will try to attack Pardis Dehyai or steal the rare plants? Even if you can’t tell me the details, let me warn Collei at least.”

For a moment, Cyno was silent. Tighnari stepped closer to him and looked into his red eyes to read his expression. A rare blush crept onto Cyno’s cheeks and he turned away from him. “The Matra doesn't have any pressing investigations that require my attention. Then, I saw the request from Pardis Dhyai to have a Matra present for their exotic plant cultivation. I volunteered.”

“Oh?” Tighnari’s initial surprise was quickly followed by a warm wave of happiness. He didn’t know he could still feel so giddy with Cyno despite already dating for years. While Cyno didn’t directly say that he took the job to be with him and Collei, Tighnari could guess his intention. He took the rope of Cyno’s helmet and gently pulled him closer. Then, he ran his fingers over his strong shoulders. “Well, it’s very reassuring to know that you’re here to protect me from the scary plants.”

“No matter how friendly a Fungi appears, it is important to keep a safe distance from them. They’re fungus who absorbed elemental energy and evolved.” Tighnari said as he walked through the line of rare plants on display. The exhibit was decorated with cartoon flowers, Aranara and Fungi that Collei created. He gestured to her art and added: “However, you shouldn’t impulsively kill it either. Fungi can carry pollen and seeds of rare plants much like bees. If you encounter a Fungi, please inform a Forest Ranger.”

Pardis Dhyai initially planned to have the exotic plant exhibit to cultivate the plants with the help of volunteers. The event soon became a lecture led by Tighnari. New Amurta students started to ask Tighnari questions about biology and he readily taught them. Cyno watched him with a proud smile. He was reminded of how different Tighnari was from other scholars.

Beside him, Collei rushed to write down Tighnari’s words. He looked over his shoulder and caught a glimpse at her notebook. Her writing was a little messy but she had progressed a lot in a short time. Cyno knew that it was from a combination of Collei’s determination and Tighnari’s patient teaching. She must’ve felt him staring because she turned to him.

Collei quickly turned away and she fumbled to close her notebook. She hid the small book behind her back and muttered something beneath her breath. Her embarrassed reaction made him feel guilty. He wanted to reassure her that she didn’t need to feel self conscious about her handwriting and that it had improved. He couldn’t find the words though. Cyno feared that he would say the wrong thing and make her feel worse. He wished that he could be better with words like Tighnari.

In the end, Cyno patted her head like a father would. “I know a few plant facts too. The Jadeplume Terrorshrome lay deviled eggs. You should write this down and tell it to Tighnari at dinner tonight. It’ll impress him. I spent a week thinking of that joke for Tighnari but you can use it.”

“That was a pun?”

“You see, deviled eggs is a breakfast meal but the key word is ‘devil’. The Jadeplume Terrorshrome is a Fungi that looks like a chicken and it will attack anyone who approaches. Chicken lay eggs. Following that logic—”

“Cyno, please save your jokes for after the exotic plant cultivation is complete. You might find those jokes funny but it’ll distract Collei from learning.” Tighnari interrupted their conversation. Most would be too intimidated to speak so curt with a Matra but Cyno didn’t mind. He smiled despite Tighnari’s tone and Tighnari felt himself soften. “I finished answering the class’s questions. Can you help me check on one of the plants?”

“It looks like Tighnari rescued you from my jokes.” Cyno chuckled with Collei.

“I thought that was one of your funnier puns.” He didn’t know whether she said it to be kind or if it was the truth. Nevertheless, he felt proud that he could make her smile again.

They walked to a large fern with limp leaves. From a glance, Cyno could see that the plant was sick. Tighnari should easily be able to treat a plant so Cyno reasoned that the issue could be a leyline disorder. His eyes fell onto two people that were already studying the plant. The shorter of the two stood and Cyno immediately knelt in front of the two.

“Dendro Archon, it is an honour to see you again. If I knew that you would be observing the plant cultivation as well, I would have my Matra escort you.” After he and the others rescued Nahida, they had worked together to reform the Akademiya. She treated everyone as a friend but Cyno was mindful to speak to her as an Archon.

“A handful of humans cannot compare to an Archon’s strength.” The man behind her rolled his eyes.

Cyno recognized him from the Interdarshan Championship but he didn’t know him well. He was certain that few in the Akademiya knew about him. The stranger’s sudden appearance in Sumeru made Cyno suspicious and he tried to investigate his past. He learned very little aside from that he joined the Darshan and worked closely with Nahida.

“Please, there is no merit in this debate, Hat Guy. Cyno was a part of the group that rescued me and I will always be grateful.” She reminded Scaramouche. He clicked his tongue but he didn’t say anything further.

Tighnari brought their conversation back to the fern. “Have you found what could be causing the leaves to be discoloured and brittle, Kusanali?”

He stepped towards them but Cyno stopped him by wrapping his arm around his waist. He pulled him back to his side and held him protectively. Tighnari looked at him in confusion. “Is something wrong, Cyno? I need to diagnose the plant.”

“Sorry.” Cyno couldn’t explain his own action to him because he took his hand out of instinct. Reluctantly, he let go of him. He couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in his stomach and he remained close by Tighnari’s side through the rest of plant cultivation.

“Cyno, are you planning to hold me like this all night? I love you but I need my arms to sort through these seeds.” The plant exhibit ended but Cyno and Tighnari stayed in Pardis Dhyai. Tighnari intended to catalogue the seeds and write a report for the plant cultivation. Cyno stayed simply to be with him. He stood behind Tighnari with his arms draped over his shoulders. In the position, Tighnari could feel the warmth of his chest pressed against his back.

“You smell like Pardisarah flowers. Are you using a new shampoo? It’s nice.” When he whispered the words, his breath brushed over his ear and tickled his fur. They were so close that Tighnari was certain that he could see him blush. He created the scent with Cyno in mind. He didn’t know that Cyno would be at Pardis Dhyai’s exhibit so Tighnari was pleasantly happy that he tested the shampoo that morning.

“I made it yesterday. Pardisarahs have a subtle scent so I searched for a way to enhance it.” Tighnari went on to explain the different methods he tested. The pride in his work shone in his voice and that excitement drew Cyno in. He loved listening to him talk about plants. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sound of his voice.

Tighnari’s next words pulled him out of the moment. “That reminds me. When I was treating the fern, you were acting strange. You were tense and on guard. Is it due to Hat Guy? You usually keep your distance from scholars but you aren’t directly hostile with them. Do you suspect that he could be a threat to Sumeru? He’s rude but I didn’t sense any ill-intention from him.”

“I think it’s this place.” Throughout the plant cultivation and the night, Cyno thought over the unnamed fear he had. He lowered his forehead onto Tighnari’s shoulder and held him a little tighter. He took a deep breath and asked: “Does the scar from that thunder strike still hurt?”

The faded scar on his shoulder reverberated with electricity at the mention of lightning. Tighnari couldn’t lie to Cyno and confessed: “Sometimes, I can feel. It’s not painful anymore and I’ve recovered quicker than others with similar injuries.”

While Cyno was in the city to rescue Nahida, Tighnari needed to stay behind to protect Haypasia. Cyno rejected that he wasn’t there to protect him when he was struck by lightning. The logical side of Cyno told him that there was nothing he could’ve done and the random strike of lightning was merely bad timing. Nevertheless, a voice in the back of his mind told him that he needed to protect Tighnari from someone.

“I’m surprised that you can be so calm here in Pardis Dhyai after you were hurt here.”

Tighnari lifted his hand and tenderly stroke Cyno’s hair. “I have far more precious memories here in Pardis Dhyai. Our first date was a picnic in the garden. Collei’s first field trip was here. I wrote my first thesis in this greenhouse. Karkata made this his home. One lightning strike can’t overshadow those things.”

[evil-ontheinside]

Happy Birth to Mike! and a tiny (almost 2k) ficlet to celebrate :D

The apartment was darker and colder than usual. Or at least it felt like it at the moment: Mike sitting at his tiny kitchen table, barely big enough to fit two plates, and one single ray of sunshine reflecting on the picture frame placed on a table near the front door.

The picture was one of the Party, taken one day after graduation in the Byers’ new home in Hawkins.

Mike stared at it for a long moment, not even able to make out the faces from the distance but knowing exactly what it looked like anyway. He liked to look at it whenever he left the house or came back home. It was nice to know that the five most important people in his life were only a phone call away.

The phone had rung a total of three times today, which was more and less than Mike expected at the same time.

Joyce’s call just before she had been off to work in the morning had been a nice surprise. Even Hopper’s grumbling in the background, most likely still half asleep and craving his coffee, had only made Mike smile and then laugh when Joyce joked about Hopper loving his morning coffee more than her.

Nancy calling was always fifty/fifty. There had been last year when she had been drowned in paperwork the entire week and only remembered a month later that she completely missed the date. She had come to visit him as an apology, even though Mike had told her it was fine. This time she called, as usual during entirely unpredictable times like four in the morning, while being incredibly hurried and letting him know that there will be mail coming sometime this week, let’s hope they don’t lose it again.

His mother had called sometime around lunch when Mike had been at work. She left a nice message on the answering machine, hoping he has a wonderful day and telling him about her women’s club meeting in the afternoon and who knows how long it will take this time, Dorothy knows how to talk the whole night if she wants to which was a subtle way of telling him that he won’t catch her if he called back. He did anyway and got Holly on the phone. She had been all too excited to talk to him, and he made a mental note to call more often if only to hear all about the newest elementary school gossip.

It seemed that his mother had kept her promise of not giving his number to any other relatives that might attack his phone line and would expect him to act polite while they talked about their problems and made underhanded jabs at him when they forgot that they were talking to him and not his mother. Not even good old Loren managed to get through, notorious for stealing at least two hours of your precious time and calling every five minutes until you picked up because she forgot to tell you about my neighbor’s dog, Henry, do you remember Henry?

Five other calls had arrived sporadically throughout the last month, all disappointing to various degrees but all equally dampening his mood.

The first had been Max. Since Mike couldn’t come to Hawkins like he had done the previous two years and her mother had just suffered a minor health scare, she wouldn’t be able to make the trip. Mike told her it was fine and that he hoped her mom was going to make a quick recovery and used the opportunity to open a bottle of wine a few hours after their call.

Lucas had been next, quite predictably, because he had decided to be the amazing person that he is, and went home to see his parents to subtly support Max and her mother. He wasn’t subtle at all but Mike was sure Lucas was well aware of the fact without his input.

Dustin had followed only a few days after Lucas, talking about this big project his favorite teacher had offered him and how it was an opportunity he couldn’t miss. Mike told him that he understood and wished him good luck which Dustin won't need anyway.

El hadn’t quite mentioned a reason when she called, only that she was really sorry and would try to make up for it the next time they saw each other. Then she wished him a good time with Will and hung up before Mike could ask any questions.

Will had told him last week even though Mike visited him for his birthday two weeks ago. Apparently, some big art project would keep him in New York for the near future. When he talked about it, Mike had been so proud of him because it sounded like a really big deal and Will had sounded nervous about it, like he usually got about his art. Mike would have felt awful to even consider asking him to come anyway, even though Will asked and made it quite clear that he would drop everything, you just have to say a word, Mike. Promise you’re not just saying it? Are you sure? Ok, I still really wish I could come. See you as soon as possible.

Mike’s eyes wandered from the framed picture back toward the table and the bowl of cereal in front of him. At this point, it was soggy and looked entirely unappetizing. Somehow, cereal only tasted good in the morning. It was too sweet and slimy any other time of day, especially if the cereal-milk ratio was completely out of order because of Mike’s embarrassingly empty fridge and pantry. One would think that with a grocery store just around the corner, having a decently stocked fridge wouldn’t be that hard.

Breakfast for dinner, Mike thought to himself and chuckled at his own dumb joke. I’m pretty sure cereal usually doesn’t count as breakfast for dinner, Mike. Probably not. The thought still looped around in his head for a full minute.

In the end, Mike didn’t eat the cereal. It looked more like soup at this point anyway.

Mike had just put the freshly rinsed bowl back into the cupboard when a knock on his door made him startle bad enough that he almost threw the spoon out of the window. Which would have been less than ideal because Mike only had five spoons to begin with (don’t ask what happened to the other five; and if you do, ask Dustin) and three of them were weirdly bent out of shape.

More knocking sounded throughout the quiet apartment while Mike carefully placed the piece of cutlery onto the counter and turned toward the door. If someone knocked, it usually was one of his neighbors. Which meant it was either someone asking for eggs or flour or something of the sort, which Mike didn't even have (see exhibit a: the saddest birthday dinner known to man), or Mr. Baggins from the second floor who, despite his very awesome last name, was mostly annoying and looking for a strong young man to help me with this box I just got in the mail. I don’t even remember what I bought, ha!

Mike could live without another two-hour endeavor and endless chatting but judging by the third round of knocks it would be something he won’t be able to escape tonight.

With a sigh entirely too dramatic but warranted---because Mike already had a really exhausting day at work with lots of customers that all had something to complain about and children with extra wishes ranging from no tomatoes please to demanding he went and bought a specific brand of bottled water for them just because they didn't like the taste of anything else. Frankly, Mike thought he didn't get paid enough for this, and since all his coworkers agreed with him, he must be right---he made his way over to the door and opened it without much hesitation to just get it over with.

Instead of Mr. Baggins, who really didn’t deserve his name, Mike was greeted by five familiar faces, grinning expressions, and an assortment of snacks and drinks distributed more or less equally between all of them.

For a second, nothing happened. It was almost as if the rest of the Party didn’t expect him to open the door so soon or at all and Mike wasn’t sure what to do with the unexpected company when he had planned on accompanying a better Mr. Baggins on his quest and going to bed early.

Before Mike could question anything, his arms were full of El who squeezed the air out of his lungs, pressed a kiss against his cheek, and wished him an enthusiastic happy birthday while expertly pushing him back into his apartment and clearing the doorway for the others. There surely was an explanation why she only carried a single package of potato chips that he would be sure to hear within the next few hours.

Dustin, with his arms full enough that Mike wondered how he hadn’t left a trail of snacks in the hallway, bumped their shoulders together and echoed El’s words before following her and dumping the food onto the couch.

Lucas was sensible enough to transfer his charge onto one arm to give Mike one side hug and ruffle his hair while he was at it. Mike finally gained enough brain cells to splutter and bat his hand away, which only made Lucas laugh before he joined the other two who already managed to start bickering about the best way to arrange the snacks.

Max, cane in hand and backpack on her back, made a show out of hitting him with her cane a few times before pulling him into a tight hug. She grinned at him, told him that he was way too naïve sometimes but not to worry, they would only tease him about it for the rest of his life.

Last was Will, looking a little sheepish but highly amused while he closed the door behind him and kicked off his shoes at the entrance. He put his backpack down and pulled Mike into a hug without pausing or explaining anything.

Mike wrapped his own arms around Will, breathing in the familiar scent of his shampoo and relaxing with the boyfriend-shaped human in his arms. The confusion from earlier and disappointment of the last month gave way to a quiet calm that always accompanied Will’s comforting presence. With the Party chattering in the background, Mike couldn’t have imagined any other place he would rather be than right here in Will’s arms.

“You didn’t think we would leave you all alone on your birthday, right?” Will’s voice was muffled because his face was buried into Mike’s sweater and Mike thought it was the best sound in the world because it meant that Will was close and here and not all the way in New York.

“You were very convincing,” Mike mumbled, tightening his hold on Will and pulling him even closer. Will did the same, one hand resting at the back of Mike’s head and the other rubbing circles into his back as if he could sense the stinging in Mike’s eyes.

“Will! Stop hogging the birthday boy!” Dustin’s voice was way too loud for the thin walls of Mike’s apartment but he chuckled anyway. They pulled away and Will pressed a firm kiss to Mike’s lips.

“Happy Birthday, Mike. Love you.”

“I love you, too.”

[honeys-clangen]

FNAFClan - Moon Twelve

(season: Greenleaf)

Freddy Quickbear stands above the clan and proclaims that Bearpaw shall now be known as Bearfoot, honoring their enterprise. Freddy gifts him a black bowtie, to make his graduation official, and Bearfoot wells up with pride. So much so, that he spends the entire rest of the day beaming with it. 

Manglepaw’s penchant for getting into, and even starting, trouble has almost made Freddy Quickbear hold back on making her a warrior. However, Freddy can tell that Manglepaw has been trying really hard lately to make up for it, and it would feel cruel to make him wait any longer. So, Freddy Quickbear names them Mangledfox in honor of their energy. Foxthrift is proud to give them their cardinal feathers.

(note: yeah I wanted to give an assigned accessory to the Foxies so I chose the cardinal feathers. So they both have that now. 

As Shadowpaw touches noses with Witheredbear, they hope they’ll get to do something that will really impress the clan on their first day. Maybe they could catch a big, fat rabbit? Or chase off a dog! That’ll show the clan they’re the best apprentice anyone’s ever seen!

Almost immediately after Balloonpaw touches noses with Endotail, they start babbling on, asking and prodding about when they’ll go out and explore the territory. Or hunt. Or fight. Seemingly, Balloonpaw’s torrent of words is endless. 

Jaypaw touches noses with Endopaws, who seems just as nervous as her. She looks at them with shining eyes, and they suddenly feel a burst of confidence. They can do this. She’ll be the best warrior anyone has ever seen, and Endopaws will be the best mentor, too!

Gildedpaw, shocking the clan, walks up to Freddy Quickbear with blank, expressionless eyes and tells him bluntly that he will be working alongside Marionettefang. The healer steps up from the crowd and says that, even though this is a surprise to her, she won’t refuse to train a cat with such promise. Freddy decides he will allow it, and as Gildedpaw touches noses with Marionettefang, he doesnt quite smile, but does seem pleased. 

Chickenjaw’s dislocated joint has popped back into place and is feeling much better. Though, shes embarrassed to find Shinyrabbit and Bearfoot teasing her and Chickenfoot about their penchant for leg injuries. Shadowbunny comments that is must be a Cbica thing. Chickenfoot takes it in stride, chuckling from her spot beside Bunnysong. Chickenjaw, however, does not feel the same. 

Patrols:

One - Marionettefang waits until they're out of camp to reveal to Gildedpaw that they're hunting for catmint. A 'helpful' group of 'helpers' can be just a little, well, unhelpful. Catmint is just a little too exciting for most of their clanmates to keep their heads around, but she wants to take advantage of the greenleaf season. Marionettefang and Gildedpaw are able to bring a whole bunch of the herb back to camp.

Two - Endopaws takes Jaypaw out to see a herd of Bison that had been reported in FNAFClan territory. Jaypaw is over the moon, and when they get back to camp, she won't stop rambling about them. She thinks she'll have the sound of those thundering hoofsteps in her mind forever.

Three - It's a dry morning, Endotail has Balloonpaw practice tunnel navigation in a long abandoned badger sett. Balloonpaw thinks its definitely easier than the burrows rabbits make, and its got the added bonus of masking all the times he walked face first into a wall.

Two cats were found, and both joined the clan.

Aaand..

Two spooky phantom cats! what will they do

[letadlock]

Eden of the East

Right off the bat I wondered if this series would touch on biblical allegory of the stories of Adam and Eve and Cain and Able like in John Steinbeck’s East of Eden. It took a quick google search of this series synopsis to realize there are no similarities to Steinbeck’s novel but what I did find was an overarching idea of corrupted work culture, Neoliberalism, and the rising trend of Japanese NEET culture.   

After a series of terrorist attacks called “Careless Monday,” Japanese college graduate Saki Morimi visits the white house to make a wish by throwing a quarter through the gate. This catches the attention of the police who go to question Saki but are distracted by a naked Akira Takizawa who gets the police off Saki’s trail only to leave and run around the DC trying to find his apartment.  

Later in the episode as they make their way through the DC airport Saki tells Akira about how she views the White House as the center of the world, the “root” of all problems from the little ones she faces to the world as a whole. She mentions a trend in Japan going on “right now” (2010) leaving her feeling as if there is nothing people can do for themselves, that she needs to make a wish to the government for change. Already touching on the philosophical definition of Neoliberalism in our lecture from the first episode, Saki is looking for a government action even from outside Japan to help Japanese people over their economic issues created by Neoliberalism.

In episode 5 Akira meets one of the NEET’s he originally thought he had taken out. The NEET originally dogs on Akira for dumping him and the rest of the NEETs in Dubai but eventually thanks him because he was able to turn his life around and find a wife. This episode shows an alternative to the solution of Japanese NEET culture where characters like this man can still turn their life around despite years of fiending off their parents.  

On the flip side, this episode also highlights corruption and difficulty entering the Japense workforce through Saki’s interview experience. After a failed interview where the boss not only rejects her but spills a bowl of ramen on her she meets with Akira to answer a few questions. Saki reveals how she had already turned down an interview at one company because they were looking for young people to take advantage of by giving them little pay. Yet another occurrence of a need for change from Neoliberalism is displayed through this scene and Akira realizes this is his way of saving Japan. By changing the work system Saki and others like her who struggle to find a job he decides he wants to create a system differing from Neoliberalism that would give young people like her job opportunity where they won’t be taken advantage of. At the same time this solution would also solve the issue of the NEET’s. If the work system were changed more people would be less likely to turn away from society all together.  

While not entirely the same, I feel some of Saki’s frustration with the workforce in the US. As a college student it’s difficult to obtain any job that doesn’t pay just above minimum wage. I’ve also had post-graduate friends express their similar dissatisfaction in fear that their degree does not hold very high value now that higher education has become the standard after high school. It seems now that less and less people in my generation are opting for work-your-way-up positions because of difficult entry barriers.  

Episode 9 opens up with Yutaka Itazu, who is a NEET with an alarm clock indicating he will always be a NEET. He loses his pants as they are drying in the wind and we cut to a scene many years later where his pants are still missing, and he hasn’t left his apartment since. Yukata is a talented hacker but at the cost of having never integrated into society. He even says to Saki in the episode he’s a “shut-in” who “hasn’t left the place in years.” As mentioned in our professor's lecture the growing social concern of NEET’s is a result of the arduous entry into the Japanese workforce. In one sense Yukata is an exception to the traditional NEET’s portrayed in this show in that he serves the group by working as their hacker.  

I am satisfied with how this series wrapped up. Akira was not able to stop the missiles but he did have them striked down so they would be out of harm's way for everyone. I liked that it referenced the workplace issues going on in Japan at the time it was aired and even offered a solution to people shunned away from Neoliberalism.

[latibvles]

SAD, BEAUTIFUL, TRAGIC.

beautiful tragic // d-day plus six.

in which the company takes the village of carentan.

masterlist | gallery | taglist

WARNINGS: descriptions of gore, death, and injuries

SUMMARY: the nurses hit the ground running after being in Normandy for less than a week — not that daisy is necessarily complaining, as she’s placed in the first aid station closest to carentan.

She’s never really known how to be idle. Of course, anyone around her could tell her that — but there’s something about this heavy silence that hangs in the air that really smacks her in the face with that realization. It isn’t necessarily her fault, however, because in her defense, she’s been busy since she and her fellow nurses hit Normandy four days ago. Her muscles ache in a way that was almost satisfactory, nails chipped and broken from working with her hands, and for once she’s enjoying with this feeling of dirt itching across her skin. She only had enough time to squeeze in a few hours of precious sleep before she was back on her feet —not so much a shower. Not that she minded.

This however, she did mind, the waiting — staring in anticipation into the open rode and waiting for those first trucks to come with wounded men or corpses. How bad would it be? The rest of their men weren’t getting off the beach if they didn’t secure Carentan, and she had a feeling everybody with half a brain knew that. Including the Germans.

“Hey, Clarke,” she feels a hand come upon her shoulder and squeeze it, and she’s immediately looking to the left to face the one beckoning her.

Virginia Brant, their head nurse, and, as far as Daisy is concerned, one of the best nurses in their unit. Her gray eyes are searching, and she feels Ginny slide her arm down Daisy’s shoulder, going to grasp one of her hands. “Staring at the road won’t will something to happen. Come with me. Rita and Patty are cleaning bandages and I’m sure they could use the extra hands before this all goes to shit,” she raises both brows expectantly, and Daisy nods in surrender, allowing the woman to drag her away from the main road. She watches in fascination as Ginny’s blonde curls seem to bounce with every step she takes.

They’d met back in training a year ago, both of them fresh-faced nursing graduates hoping to put all that school to some good use. Ginny stuck by her ever since — and now was the Captain of their unit. The position always suited her. She’d always been an opinionated, commandeering sort.

Sure enough, Ginny leads her to one of the abandoned buildings that they’d used to establish this field hospital, five miles out from Carentan. Inside, there’s water boiling on the stove and she watches as her two fellow nurses dump bandages unceremoniously into the large metal basin on top.

Well, Rita’s unceremonious and quick about it. Patty is more precise, Daisy watches as she delicately places the bandages in the boiling water as though they were made of glass. Rita notices her and Ginny first, flashing the two of them a toothy grin.

“Was wonderin’ when you’d snap outta it. Ginny puttin’ you t’work now?” she asks playfully. Daisy releases her friend’s hand, and immediately goes to the pile of what she assumes is clean bandages, wringing out the water in them with a lighthearted roll of her eyes.

“I just knew that you’d be struggling without me, and I was feeling charitable today.”

“Oh how kind of you,” Rita drawls in response, eliciting a low chuckle from Ginny.

“Right then — the boys are set to come up on Carentan within the hour. So far we’ve got Easy Company and Fox Company making their way — but no doubt we can probably expect Dog Company falling in soon as well, and Able’s up to the North. Don’t know what firepower they’ve got on the German side, but you remember what it was like at the 42nd,” Daisy wrings out the next bandage a little tighter than what she’s used to, and her eyes flit to Patty, who’s resigned to picking at her bottom lip.

They’d gotten to Normandy early in comparison — as a result there was nowhere for them to set up a field hospital, nothing to set it up with. So they worked at the 42nd Field Hospital until they were ordered to move out. Most of the men they dealt with were some of the first to land in Normandy — and several required surgery. Needless to say, it was a bloody mess, and when things finally calmed down as much as they could, Daisy was the one who held Patty’s hair back as she threw up into a helmet with no liner after losing several patients in surgery.

The girl’s green eyes are clouded with a sort of pensiveness that lets Daisy know she’s probably thinking about that day too.

“Rita, I want you to assist our surgeon. Patty, I want you in preop, and Daisy, you’re on standby till we’re ready to send you down to the aid station. They’re still getting their bearings on who survived Day One so they’ll likely be short on medics. That clear?”

There’s an almost sick, cruel irony in her being ordered to wait, but she knows that it’s not like Ginny meant for things to pan out that way. Just happened to be her turn in this three-way rotation they’d set up. The luck of the draw. And Daisy, apparently, just seems to have poor luck today. But she doesn’t protest, just gives Ginny a definitive nod as she continues to wring out bandages and lay them out to dry. Rita replies with a calm ‘aye aye Captain’ and Patty squeaks out her own ‘You’ve got it.’

With that, their dear Captain Brant leaves the room, and Daisy crosses over to give Patty a reaffirming squeeze on the shoulder.

The sick, cruel irony was that every patient Patty lost hadn’t even made it past preop. She looks to Daisy with a frown, biting her bottom lip. Daisy, in turn, tries to give her a reassuring smile.

“You’ve got this, Pats. Everything’s gonna work out like it’s supposed to.” She brings the girl closer, and Patty tilts her head to one side so Daisy can kiss the side of her head as a means of reassurance.

They’d met Patricia Kegley upon their arrival in England. Daisy’s unit was meant to show an example of skill to the other nurses who had been on standby, waiting for D-Day’s fast arrival. Apparently, Patty was so moved by the display that she asked to be transferred to their unit — it had been finalized just before they were meant to embark to Normandy. Needless to say she was definitely emotional — sometimes Daisy wonders if those rosy cheeks of hers were a direct result of all the tears she’s wept for the fallen men. Needless to say, Patty’s heart was oftentimes, too big for her petite frame to carry.

Patty smiles at her, a wobbly thing but it’s an attempt, and she nods.

“You’re right, Daisy, I just…”

“I know, Patty, I know.”

The thing about rifles is that even when you’re miles off — you can still hear them. Especially when it’s countless rifles all firing off at the same time. Five miles out, she can still recognize the pepper of gunfire, no matter how distant — in times like this it almost feels like the entire field hospital is holding their collective breath. She hasn’t seen Rita nor Patty since they separated after cleaning duty — finding an unoccupied spot to perch upon in case anyone needed her.

There’s a loud, rattling boom, and Daisy cringes. She isn’t sure if it’s a mortar or very well placed TNT, and she can only hope that their guys were the ones setting it off as her knee begins to bounce in anticipation, waiting for whichever jeep is going to speed into the town first and take her away.

The biggest problem with distance is that while she can tell that there’s combat going on — it’s not like she can see it. So Daisy simply has to hope. Hope things are going as well as they can, hope that whoever is there is holding down the fort, and hope that when she does get down there — she’ll be useful enough.

And this is why she hates the waiting, even though it would probably do her some good to refine her patience. Left like this, on standby no less, would almost always lead to her generating the worst case scenarios and running through each of them as though she were her own cruel, sadistic drill sergeant.

The revving of an engine and the calls for aid snap her from her muddled thoughts.

An ambulance revvs through the gravel and two soldiers are unloading a third before it even comes to a complete halt. One side of his face is completely mangled by shrapnel, and she can see smoke pluming from his left arm as the entire place goes into motion. She watches as they carry him off and Patty coaxes the three of them inside, and it doesn’t take long before more and more are coming in. It’s a cacophony of tires screeching, of wailing, dying men, of nurses and doctors ordering about the soldiers to stay or go or hand that here.

“Nurse Clarke?”

A voice snaps her from her own trance, a hand firmly gripping her forearm and she turns to look at whoever called her. He’s got brown eyes, a helmet on, and she immediately recognizes the red cross on his uniform. Daisy clears her throat, rising to her feet but not paying mind to his grip, standing up straighter.

“Yes. That’s me.” It’s immediate. He gives her nothing more than a nod in greeting.

“Eugene Roe. You’re coming with me.” He’s got a thick accent and although he’s very quick to relay this to her, he’s also quick to release her arm as she grabs her helmet from where it rested at her side and the two move quickly down the street to an awaiting jeep on the hospital outskirts. He hops in first, extends his hand, which she takes to pull herself up immediately after. The last thing she sees before they take off is Captain Brant helping a soldier limp into a tent.

“How many wounded?” she asks as the sounds of gunfire grow louder, and she can make out indiscernible shouting.

“I don’t know.” Eugene replies, jaw clenching as they approach.

“If you had to take a guess?”

“We were getting shot down before we even stepped foot in Carenten, if that gives you an idea.” Daisy nods, as the jeep skids to a stop, jumping off without assistance and turning to face Eugene.

“Which company are you a part of?”

“Easy, ma’am.”

“Right. Okay, point me in the direction of your aid station and then just worry about getting your boys to me,” she feels the ghost of Eugene’s hand on her back as he guides her to a building. Gunfire rings loudly in her ears and they’re quick to scurry inside. Already she’s met with the scent of blood, men moaning in agony. She looks to Eugene, gives him a nod, and he’s scurrying off towards the front. Daisy moves further into the building, and after a brief exchange of introductions, immediately falls into step with the men around her.

A man is brought in — although he’s more like a boy — face a ghastly pale color, lip quivering and eyes blown wide.

“Here. Put ‘em here.” She gestures to an empty table and the two men who brought him in set him down. Immediately she’s moving the fabric of his jacket and shirt away, greeted with a bullet hole. Apparently, and unsurprisingly, they’re low on morphine — so Daisy tears a bit of his jacket unceremoniously. “Here. Bite this. It’s probably gonna hurt a lot but I need to get that bullet out, alright?” The boy looks to her, fear in his face, chest heaving.

“I don’t— I don’t wanna die,” is his meek, blubbering reply. Daisy reaches up, letting her fingers caress his face for the briefest moment and using her free hand to put pressure on the wound.

“You’re fine. Just need you to relax for a second and bite, okay? I’ll patch you up real nice.” It takes a few seconds, but he stops heaving and she, rather flippantly, shoves the cloth into his mouth before reaching for the tweezers and giving him one last shared look before she’s pulling out the first pieces of the bullet that had lodged into his side. His scream is muffled, and she winces, but continues.

It takes a few minutes, but she works deftly to ensure all the pieces had been pulled before she’s tearing open a packet of sulfa powder with her teeth and sprinkling it on the wound, then grabbing bandages and wrapping them around his waist, muttering out her own reassurances that he’s doing fine.

“Alright, you’re fine. You’re okay — hey, can someone come move him?! Send him up to the field hospital on the next ride up!” she calls out. Surely enough two medics come, but she frowns when they pick him up too roughly for her liking. “Hey. Easy now, he’s not a sack you can just swing around!”

She wipes off her hands with a rag, and sure enough there’s another patient being half-dragged in, and the roof of this aid station rattles with every mortar blast. She doesn’t slow down. There’s a man with a missing leg, a man with a few face abrasions and a wound in his thigh. She assumes that the man who brought him in is a friend, because when she’s done he makes a joke about her saving the man’s “family line” — if this were any other time, Daisy probably would’ve blushed.

Those aren’t even the worst ones of the day.

She’s just finished removing another bullet wound when the door nearly crashes open and three men come in, carrying a forth. The entire right side of his face is mangled, bloody, and he’s coughing up blood that dribbles down the front of his uniform. Even from across the room she can see the severe burns, the smoke that comes out of his boots. He’s whimpering and heaving and one of the men is muttering out his own reassurances.

“You’re gonna be fine, Tip, I’ve got you.”

Daisy, and two other medics immediately guide them to an open spot. Just as the one man moves to leave with the other two, she grabs his sleeve.

“Your name, sir?” Brown eyes, brown hair, an upturned nose and a look of frustration on his face. For a second she thinks he’s going to mouth off to her, but he doesn’t.

“Liebgott,” he bites out, and she repeats it quietly.

“Alright Liebgott, you stay here with him and keep him calm. Gonna take a second for the painkillers to kick in and we don’t need him thrashing about till then, got it?” As if thrown off by her order, he blinks for a moment. She narrows her eyes and repeats it again. “Got it?!”

“Yes nurse, got it.” he replies, moving into “Tip’s” field of vision. In cruder terms — the left side of his face. She watches Liebgott take his hand and squeeze it, before getting to work herself, cutting away at the fabric aggravating his burns as whatever drug the other medics adminsistered seems to kick in, and his body relaxes, barely reacting as one of them begins to cut away at some of the burned tissue. Make the surgeon’s job a little easier — but there’s not much they can do without proper surgical tools. Continuously, her gaze shifts to Liebgott when she’s moving on to another task, and once they’ve managed to move Tipper and send him up the five mile drive, she does her best to smile at him before he leaves.

The rest of the day goes quickly after that — she’s left heaving in the aftermath, but is conscious of not dragging a hand down her face despite the desire to. Instead, she takes a few steps back, looking about the station as she wipes her hands on her apron. There are men spread out on every available surface, some hooked up to plasma or other fluids, but the pepper of gunfire has died down significantly, and for that she’s relieved. Daisy’s eyes land on a doctor, tucked away in his own corner, and recognizes it as Eugene after a few moments, so she makes her way over.

A man sits on the table, with neatly parted ginger hair and a piercing blue-eyed gaze. Eugene seems to be wrapping a bandage around his ankle. It doesn’t help that he’s the first to notice her presence — she tries not to make her shudder too obvious. Afterwards, Eugene follows his stare, looks up, and gives her something of a smile. Even though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, it’s still warm and inviting.

“Nurse Clarke,” he greets.

“Roe, and this is…” she looks at the ginger expectantly.

“Lieutenant Winters, ma’am,” he introduces himself, and Daisy’s eyebrows shoot up reflexively.

“The one in charge,” she blurts without entirely thinking it through. Rita liked to gossip, so she was more than aware of the ‘Lieutenant Meehan situation’ as Rita liked to put it. He cracks a smile and suddenly Daisy wants to shrink into her own skin.

“Sorry sir I didn’t… I just— well I was gonna have Eugene pass this on but since you’re here I can do it,” she reaches up to scratch the side of her neck, then feeling the sticky substance on her fingertips, does her best not to swear. “Private Tipper’s been sent up to the hospital, they’ll probably be moving him further from there. If you wish to relay that to whoever might be concerned that’s up to you but I figured to notify you. I didn’t take all your guys though.” The last part of her statement garners a laugh from him — brief as it may be, and a small shake of his head as he voices his thanks. Daisy then looks back to Eugene.

“I… better get back to the field hospital. Someone will probably run by with the names of who we’ve got up with us, so keep a lookout for that. Be safe, Eugene. And you too, Lieutenant.”

She doesn’t linger for long after that, opting to scurry out of the aid station and into the now slightly busy town. But she doesn’t get very far, before she collides with another person.

“Long time, no see.”

[prettywordsyouleft]

Needing Directions

Pairing: Choi Youngjae x female reader

Genre: fluff / idol au

Warnings: terribly cliché fluff – aka none

Prompt: “Don’t go that way.” - #7 for Idea Starters

Word count: 1076

“I need some directions.”

You should have just asked him for an autograph. That would have been quicker than this. What had you been thinking?!

To be fair, you weren’t thinking at all.

“So, there are two alleyways to head down,” he continued, and you were surprised you were able to hear the words coming out of his mouth and that they made sense to you. Well, some of them, because now he was still talking, and you had no idea where he was in the grand scheme of his directions. He paused, frowning for a moment. “Don’t go that way.”

“Huh?”

He smiled softly. “Down to the very end of that street. There’s a shortcut.”

“Next to the bakery,” you confirmed with a sharp nod. “Got it.”

The man frowned. “I didn’t say about the bakery.”

Damn it.

You really should have gone with the autograph now.

But his face had lit up when you hadn’t approached him walking his dog asking about his fame. His dark eyes had turned decadent warm chocolate, and his hand gestures excited.

You had treated him like anyone else on the street when you had asked Choi Youngjae for directions.

And he had appreciated more than you had expected.

Picking up Coco as she started to yap impatiently at his heels, Youngjae cocked his head to the side. “You already know the way there, don’t you?” “Would it annoy you if I did?” you asked tentatively.

Youngjae’s wide smile curved up his mouth, and soon his hearty chuckles let loose. Right in front of you. In person.

You needed to get a grip on yourself before you turned into a squealing fan.

“That was clever.”

“It was the first thing I could think of. Surprisingly more so than ‘can I have your autograph?’. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have fooled you.”

“Just to get me to talk to you more?” he wondered, taking a step forward. You wondered if that was an invitation for you to follow suit.

You hoped to God it was.

Falling into step at his side, you nodded and shrugged at the time same. Youngjae laughed again. “It’s okay. I’m not offended. Curious, though.”

“About?”

“Why, out of all places in this area, you asked where to find the closest dispensary.”

“Oh,” you replied, feeling flushed. “That.”

“You’re not unwell, are you?” Youngjae asked, concern etching his expression.

If you didn’t admire the idol before, you sure did now.

“Actually, I work there.”

“Sly move,” Youngjae announced with another laugh. “Ensuring I know where you work, uhh – sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“I didn’t tell you it.”

“That was a perfect segue into telling me, though. I mean, you know mine.”

“Doesn’t a lot of people?”

“You’ll be surprised how unnoticed I go on the streets. It’s this one that makes everyone put two and two together,” Youngjae admitted, nodding his head in the direction of the infamous Maltese he held.

Your lips twitched. He was onto something there. You had figured it was the singer by his dog. Especially when he had scolded Coco for walking around the other side of the lamppost and getting the lead tangled when he called her back.

“Y/N. That’s my name.”

“Y/N, the pharmacist,” he said, rolling your name around on his tongue like it was something special.

You bit your lip to suppress the giddy giggle pressing up your throat. “I’m sort of an intern, though.”

“An intern?”

You nodded. “I just started working there two weeks ago. Not long graduated with my degree. You remain an intern for a year before gaining the full pharmacist title.”

“That will explain why I haven’t seen you in there before. This is my neighbourhood, after all.” He then eyed you cautiously. “Wait. You’re not going to—”

“Gosh, no. You know where I work now. That could complicate both of us,” you hastily pointed out, and Youngjae relaxed again. You smiled weakly. “Besides, you won’t see much of me. I’m normally out the back, running about for the senior pharmacist. I only see the front of the dispensary when the owner takes her break at two.”

Youngjae stopped walking, turning to face you. He smiled warmly. “Well, Y/N, the intern pharmacist, it was nice walking with you. Here’s the bakery turn off, so I’m sure you can make the rest of your way to work now, right?”

You nodded. “Thank you for escorting me and not seeing me as completely ridiculous for my weird reaction.”

“Not at all,” Youngjae replied with a wave, softly encouraging Coco off back the way you’d come.

Staring after him for just a moment more, you smiled. You didn’t believe in special encounters, but the one you’d just had with Youngjae had revitalised you. The last few arduous months had come into fruition now.

A full-time job, and Choi Youngjae’s handsome face in the flesh.

You all but skipped into work.

“I’m going on my break now, Y/N. Can you watch the front for me?” the owner Yelena asked, and you stepped out from the back with a nod.

You liked serving the customers. It gave you a chance to practice what you had learned in your degree when you gave out advice on what was best to take for certain ailments. You also got to know some of the regulars, and frankly, anything was better than attempting to chat with the senior pharmacist. He was polite where needed and silent there otherwise. At first, you had thought it was just you, but he was the same with everyone.

The doorbell chimed as the sliding doors opened, and you turned from restacking some stock that Yelena had left for you to do, your mouth falling ajar.

Youngjae grinned, looking curiously at some of the display items as he made his way over. Of course, since this was his neighbourhood, he’d come here for any health need he might have.

He wasn’t here because of you. Right?

“Two-ten,” he said suddenly, looking a little bashful as your expression narrowed with confusion. “I didn’t know if the break was a lunch one or just a quick one, but—”

“You came here to see me?”

“Well, I did come for a reason,” Youngjae mentioned, and you nodded, trying to rein in the fan inside of you. This was your professional environment.

“Oh? What can I help you with today?”

Youngjae smiled coyly. “I need some directions.”

_________________

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

[GOT7 Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

[lottiebagley]

Family Reunions- George Weasley

Three years imagining a life together Love your family more than we loved each other I said I’d keep in touch and I did But the more we keep in touch, the more I miss him

The second she enters her small flat she can feel her entire world shatter around her. Leaning her back against the door as she sinks to the ground, head dropping into her hands as she wipes furiously at her eyes, trying to push the tears back in.

Once a week she had attended dinner at the burrow, it was nice, good to see Molly and Arthur and whichever kids were around, of course George was never there, the date marked in his calendar in a red pen reminder to not go home that day. To sleep and eat at the flat.

The family had been heartbroken to hear that he had broken up with his girlfriend, after the war he had committed all his time to helping Fred. His twin needed every last bit of his attention, helping with his physical therapy and his dwindling mental state and so George's relationship had taken a back seat. She hadn't minded, in fact she had understood, she even committed herself to helping too.

But a year after George decided to call things off, Fred was better, he was walking and he was happier and he was working again. It was the perfect time for him to focus on his relationship, after all the girl had proven herself time and time again. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Maybe it was that he felt like he needed a minute alone.

Maybe it was the feeling that she was so much better than him. Maybe it was his mother's constant talks of rings and weddings. He wasn't quite sure but all of a sudden he felt like he was suffocating.

He sat her down in his bedroom in the flat. Explained that she wasn't the one and it didn't feel right anymore. He had watched as she cried and had attempted to comfort her only for her to push him away, fleeing his flat leaving a baffled Fred on the living room sofa, television on in front of him, wondering why the girl who may as well be a sister just left the flat in floods of tears.

George still visions his mother's face when he closes his eyes, the look on her face when he told her he ended his relationship. He remembers her disappointment. He remembers his brothers shock. He remembers his dad's sad sigh. He remembers his sister's passionate rant about how he never deserved her anyway.

As the girl cries on her hallway floor she vows that she will stop. Stop seeing the Weasley's. Not because she doesn't love them with every fibre of her being but because she couldn't handle the heart break. Couldn't keep sitting at their dinner table without his hand on her knee. Couldn't keep sitting on the swing set without him laughing and pushing her. Couldn't keep helping Molly clean plates without him sat on the counter teasing her.

Tell your sister if she hears from her ex I can’t be the one that she calls And as much as I love talks with your dad I need him to leave me alone Cause I can’t find the words to express The way that I wish I was the one But friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

Her resolve to stop seeing the Weasley's was gone by the next morning.

She woke up to a missed call from Charlie and called back, chattering away about his upcoming trip home as she got ready.

She arrived at her job at the ministry and met up with Hermione for coffee, deciding that when she eventually cut her ties she would keep Hermione. The girl was like a younger sister, although so was Ginny, but she figured one last tie to the family, someone to hear their news from would do no harm.

Arthur knocked on her office door in his lunch break, bringing with him sandwiches made by Molly and asking her to eat with him and she didn't have the heart to say no, so instead they ate in her office and talked merrily about the infestation of singing sunglasses he was dealing with today.

As she left her office she received a phone call from Ginny, who ranted about how annoying Harry was being and how now she had graduated and was training she felt like she had no time to focus on her relationship.

It was after she assured the girl that her and Harry were meant to be as she walked through the Leaky Cauldron she knew what she had to do.

She got a flat above a bookshop on Diagon Alley simply to be near George and now everyday, walking past his store, felt like torture. She hadn't been in the store, she'd avoided it like the plague even when Fred asked her to come and hang out with him and George wasn't working. So as she walked into the atmospheric shop her heart felt like it was sinking in her chest.

"Hey sweetheart, you all okay?" Fred asks with a bright grin, he's leaning on his cane for support and eyeing the door.

She could cry looking at him. Not just because he looks identical to the man who fell out of love with her and she still pined desperately for. No. Today the tears she blinks back are practically grief, she knew that, realistically, she would see Fred around, but she wouldn't be able to call him a friend anymore.

"I uh- could I speak to George?" she questions, Fred smiles gently, noticing her pained tone.

"Yeah, of course, you can go on up," he assures. She nods shooting him a small smile, but pauses on the stairs.

"Hey Freddie,"

"Yeah,"

"I want you to know that I am really proud of you, of the shop and of how much better you are and I mean when I first met you who'd have thought you'd end up here. I just-well I love you and I am really proud," She blinks back tears as she speaks, almost wishing she would get a chance to say a goodbye to all the Weasley's.

Fred smiles gently, somewhere in him he can tell, tell that this is goodbye and he's about to loose a friend.

"I love you too sweetheart, just remember no matter what that I am always going to be here for you,"

They share eye contact for a moment, both knowing and not saying it. Fred understood, he can only imagine how hard it must be to still be a part of his family's lives after George. He knew the girl in front of him loved his twin brother more than anything, he knew that deep down George loved her just as much, and yet here Fred stands, a silent goodbye hanging in the air.

Phone calls Sweet notes All the little things I used to love Now they just remind me that I was never enough We said we’d keep in touch and I tried But the more we keep in touch, the less I move on in life

"Hey George," she speaks quietly, standing in the hallway of his flat as he stands staring at her shock.

It's been a month since he saw her and his heart leaps at the sight of her, at her standing there with a small smile and teary eyes and a pencil skirt and blazer and messy hair and she's just her. She is her and it's everything he's been missing. He wonders as he stares at her how he ever thought that she wasn't the one. That she wasn't perfect. That she wasn't made for him.

Her own eyes are wide, seeing him sparking something in her that she didn't even know existed. He's shirtless, a white towel wrapped around his hips and his hair damp from the shower he just clearly had. Her eyes scan his toned chest, his broad shoulders, the light sprinkles of freckles. His scent, his cinnamon body wash, is so strong that it practically invades her body and she could scream and cry and all she wants is to kiss him.

"Oh-shit-hi. Is everything alright?" He's worried to see her, had someone died? Was she okay? Merlin, he wanted her to be happy more than anything in the world.

"Hey," she speaks quietly, backing a way a little when he tries to move closer, not wanting to be close enough that she could reach out and touch him.

"You said that already," he teases gently, testing the waters.

"I'm sorry- I-" she cuts herself off, not sure how to say anything that she wants to

"Hey, it's okay. You're okay," he comforts her gently "Why don't you go sit down, I'll get dressed and come, just give me a minute," he offers, she nods her head slowly.

When he enters the living room it feels natural. Seeing her sat on his sofa waiting for him feels right. He thinks for a second about how it could all be different. How he could be in pyjamas and she could be in one of his shirts, how he would jump on her and laugh when she tells him he is squashing her, how he'd have held her as they watch a film and make-out and he'd cook for her and they'd drink wine and enjoy a blissful Friday evening, wrapped up in each other.  

"You're all dressed up. Going anywhere nice?" she questions, eyes scanning his white dress shirt and jeans.

"The Italian, the one in Camden town,"

"With the little dog and the red wine?" she questions, George lets out a laugh at the memory of the time he took her there, it was a month after the war, thinking back it was probably the last time he took her out. He got so busy with Fred and the shop and she'd not been a priority when he knew she should have been, she never seemed to mind though.

"That's the one,"

"So, it's a date," she smiles gently, heart splintering in her chest

"Uh, yeah. Yeah it is," he confirms, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly

"That's great, do I know her?"

"Angelina," He admits quietly. She nods, forcing a smile.

"That's great George, I'm really happy for you. I'm sorry to disturb you-"

"No!" he cuts her off a little too eagerly, a little too happy to see her. "No, you are fine being here. I want to help with whatever is happening," he assures her

"Right, well I won't keep you long," she nods awkwardly

"Hush, none of that nonsense, take all the time you need," he reassures her, sitting down next to her on the sofa but keeping a respectful distance apart.

"So-well- I know that this is-" she cuts herself off with a sigh "Sorry, this is just...awkward,"

"Hey, it's just me. You can say anything," He moves his hand to place it gently on her knee, his heart stops at the way she gently pulls her leg away.

"I need you to tell your family to stop talking to me,"

"What?" he snaps, suddenly quite offended. "My family have been nothing but kind to you and-"

"Christ! it's not like that!" she gasps, he sighs

"Then what?"

"I can't be a part of their lives anymore. I know it sounds so selfish and I wish it was different but- George- I love your family. I really do. I just- being around them hurts. It kills me. It makes me want to just drop dead because every time I talk to them I think of you. Being in your house I can feel you and- I- it hurts. It hurts too much," She admits it in a tired whisper, George feels his heart break at the thought of her heartbroken because of him.

"Okay. I'll talk to them," he speaks quietly, she nods and stands.

"Goodbye George,"

"I'll see you around?" he asks quietly, the thought of this being it makes his heart hurt. When his family were stealing seeing him all the time it wasn't as bad, he always knew what was happening in her life. This, this was final.

"Yeah. Yeah maybe,"

Tell your sister if she hears from her ex I can’t be the one that she calls And as much as I’ll miss talks with your dad I need him to leave me alone Cause I can’t find the words to express The way you don’t think I am the one And friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

For the next six months George hears nothing. Without his family seeing her he has no idea how she is, if she's okay, if she's happier now. He lays up at night thinking about her and wishing he could turn back time.

She hears scraps, staying in touch with Hermione, she knows about Ron in depth, hears bits and pieces about the rest of the family. Too awkward to ask if George is okay, if he's happier without her, if he's with Angelina now.

Bill receives a card when his little girl is born but she doesn't pick up the phone when he calls her. Fred gets a text message when he finishes his physical therapy but when he replies it's left on delivered. Ginny swears up and down that she saw her in the stands of her first professional quidditch game but can't prove it.

So, with dread filling her body and curses at her nephew flying in her mind she enters Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. She's hoping to go unseen by the twins, they had staff now and maybe they would never have to find out her annoyingly loveable nephew wanted a reusable swamp for his 12th birthday and absolutely nothing else would do.

"Hello, welcome to Weasley's Wizard- oh, hi," George's voice sounds anxious when he snaps his head up to see her standing like a deer in the headlights in the almost empty shop.

"Hey,"

"Is everything alright?" George wonders if the way his mind automatically jumps to something awful having happened because of the war or because he can't think of any other reason after everything he put her through that she would want to be anywhere near him.

"It's Max's birthday next week," she announces

"Yeah. 12, right?" George questions with a lopsided grin. He adored her nephew, the kid as giggly and energetic and just like him and Fred were as kids. He also loved the way she was around kids.

"Yeah," she confirms, surprised he remembers. "He, uh, started school,"

"Made Gryffindor I'm sure," George smiles, it's the first genuine smile he's let out in weeks

"Yeah. The first thing he said when he saw me at Christmas was that I just had to tell uncle George, didn't shut up about you once. I didn't have the heart to tell him we broke up so..." she trails off.

"He's a good kid,"

"He is. Professor McGonogall isn't quite so set on him,"

"Nah, she always loves the trouble makers," George smirks

"That's true," She smiles gently "Anyway, so he wants a portable swamp and nothing else instead for his birthday, so," she trails off once more, gesturing to herself.

"Well of course," George grins, pushing himself off the front desk that he had been resting on and striding across the shop floor to grab one. He grabs a basket, walking around the floor and plucking any product he thinks the kid might like, even a few unreleased things from the back room before returning to where she is standing at the front till with a small smile on her face.

"George-" she starts, he shushes her immediately.

"I'll gift wrap them for you," he announces, placing the full basket on the till

"You don't have to that," she protests but he laughs

"Actually, I kinda do. You are the worst at wrapping gifts," he teases making her smile.

"You got me there," she admits

"Yeah. So, how've you been," He begins scanning products through the till and wrapping them with ease

"Uh good. I got a promotion-"

"Wow! that's fantastic, and so well deserved,"

"How would you know?" She blushes as she speaks, not looking at the boy

"I do read the paper y'know? What is it now 100 war criminals you have single handedly found," he bolsters, she'd always wanted to be an auror but becoming so high up that she reported directly to the minister and had a big fancy office was only in her wildest dreams until now.

"What about you? How's things?" she questions

"They're good. Shop's going great and Fred's only getting better by the day. Little Victorie is so perfect and yeah life is, well, it's good," He can't bring himself to say that as much as everything is perfect he can't find it in him to be happy without her by his side.

"And Angelina?"

"We decided we were way better as friends. You dating?"

"I'm married to the job," she shrugs, not wanting to say she doubted she would ever fall in love again without him.

"I get that," he nods, placing the pile of wrapped up parcels into bags. He physically laughs when she grabs her purse and begins to gather money

"Sweetheart, you're not paying for any of this. I only rang it through the till because we have to stock management,"

"George, that is so kind but I can-"

"Yes you can, if it makes you feel better stick my name on a couple of the tags alright?"

"I will, I promise that I will," she nods, taking the bags from his hand "Thank you,"

"No bother. Give Max my best, yeah?" He smiles, she nods and he watches as she leaves the store, his heart that he hadn't even realised was practically beaming dulls back down when she goes.

Tell your mom to stop sending me recipes she finds on the internet And when your brother wins homecoming king

I won’t be there to witness it And when you find the words to express the way you don’t think I am the one And friends don’t bring friends to family reunions If we’re just friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

"You busy?" Hermione leans in the doorway of her office

"I can make a couple minutes, what's up? We had coffee three days ago," she reminds as the brunette steps into the office, closing the door behind her and settling in the seat across the desk.

"I know and I wanted to ask then but I couldn't bring myself to it because I feel so bad asking," Hermione explains, twisting the diamond ring on her finger anxiously.

"'Mione, you can ask me anything. You know that if it's physically possible I'll do it," she assures, putting the papers she had been reading down to give her friend undivided attention.

"You're one of my best friends," Hermione states

"And you're one of mine," The girl nods, eyebrows furrowed in concern

"And when somebody does something big in their life they want their best friends there,"

"Hermione what ever you need I'm there. 100%"

"Big things like getting married. I'm getting married, you know that, I mean to say Ron and I have picked a date and it's four months away and we are getting married at the burrow in a marquee by the lake. I know it's a lot to ask of you. I mean it's not just some ex, it's George, and I know how hard it's been for you without him and I hate myself for asking. And it's not just seeing him it's being there, I mean you fell in love with him there and it's not just him it's all of them and I understand if you say no, but, I want you there," Hermione rambles

"Of course," She speaks without thinking, never would she not attend her friends wedding "Hermione, I would love nothing more than to be there,"

"Really?" Hermione beams

"Merlin, 'Mione did you think for a second I wouldn't come, it's your wedding,"

Love them like they are my own But I don’t think I’ll ever move on If you don’t , If  you don't

It had been the most obvious thing in the world to say yes when Hermione asked, but now, standing in a stupid, but undeniably beautiful, pale blue bridesmaid dress she felt nervous. Hermione had insisted she had no obligation to see the Weasley's until the wedding day, she knew how her friends heart ached for not just George but the whole family, and wanted to make the whole thing as painless as possible.

But now, standing in the empty kitchen the morning of the wedding, the girl wondered how to breathe. She arrived by floo powder, already changed and ready like Hermione had instructed as she was getting ready with her muggle family.

She wasn't sure what she expected but it wasn't the empty, quiet room she was standing in.

She lets out a sigh, blinking back tears, the scent feeling like coming home.

"Sweetie, how are you?" She hadn't even realised Molly had entered the room from the back door until the familiar woman is pulling her into a hug.

"I'm okay, how are you?" she questions as Molly pulls away. If it were anyone else Molly would have rushed away, much too busy with preparations, but it wasn't. Molly loved the kids her children brought home in her life like her own, she missed the girl but understood that she needed space. One look at the tears in her eyes tells Molly that right now she needs to be here.

"I'm good. We are all good," Molly assures, gently guiding the girl to sit. "Now, tell me honestly, how are you?

"I'm just sorry," She admits, voice cracking and tears spilling onto her cheeks. "You must all hate me,"

"Sweetie, no one here hates you, not even for a second. We adore you," she assures, rubbing the girl's shoulder comfortingly

"All of you were always so welcoming and kind and then I just stop speaking to you all. I was so rude and I'm so sorry. Merlin, I didn't even tell you myself I made George do it,"

"None of that. You don't have to be sorry. We are the sorry ones. My son broke your heart and we were all wrapped up in loving you and wanting to be part of your life that we didn't stop to think how hard it would be for you. To be here and to talk to us. You needed to heal, no one is mad at you. We just miss you, and when or if you ever want to come back you will be welcomed with open arms," Molly assures her, grabbing a tissue to dab the girls cheeks dry.

"I missed you so much Molly," she sighs

"I missed you too dear, and I know George misses you,"

"I miss him. Every day I miss him,"

The moment is cut short when Charlie strides in through the front door "Thought I smelt trouble," He beams, wrapping his arms around the girl "Come help me with the daises, Hermione wants like a thousand and Perce is useless,"  He informs, an arm wrapped around her shoulder. She looks almost anxious and he rubs her shoulder gently "He's upstairs with Ron," he whispers gently

"You're welcome to go and speak to him if you'd rather," Molly informs, she wanted her son to be back with the girl more than anything.

"It's okay I'm happy to help,"

"Thank Merlin, I'd strangle Percy if you aren't there to stop me,"

Tell your sister if she hears from her ex I can’t be the one that she calls And as much as I’ll miss talks with your dad I need him to leave me alone Cause I can’t find words to express The way that I wish I was the one But friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

"I saw mum put you to work earlier," George's voice calls through the dark night air. She's sat in the tree house in the garden, the wedding a small distance away.

"I never mind," she shrugs as she watched him climb the ladder, he sits down next to her, legs dangling over the edge next to hers.

"Thought I'd find you here," He comments, he had built the tree house one summer when they couldn't get a minute alone. It was the first summer she spent there, between 4th and 5th year, she fell in love with him in that tree house.

"Just needed a minute," she sighs

"Yeah. It's beautiful but it's kind of a lot,"

"Weddings when you're depressingly single are often a lot," she shrugs, he chuckles at that.

"I have no clue how you are single," He comments, eyes trained on the starry sky above them

"Well, you dumped me so," she teases, a light laugh in her voice. He rolls his eyes, bumping his body to hers, for the first time since the breakup she doesn't move away from his touch. Not wanting to waste the opportunity but also not wanting to push her he settles for pressing his leg next to hers, her foot wraps around his leg holding him close to her without her even noticing, it's second nature, instinctive.

"I'm serious. You're so incredibly kind, and funny, and smart and good in bed," he adds the last one as a joke, laughing when she playfully swats his arm "and I mean, look at you right now, you're like a fucking goddess. You always are. How had no one swept you up?" He questions, and he means every word of it.

"Honestly?" she questions

"Always,"

"They've tried. I mean boys ask me out or try and get with me, but- I- well I never say yes, it's not fair to go on a date with someone when you're in love with someone else,"  She admits, she is staring straight ahead, not looking at him, so she misses the grin that brightens his face.

"That's why Angelina and I decided on friends," he admits, she hums in response not sure what to say. A comfortable silence falls over them, the sound of music from the party the only thing filling the air.

"You wanna dance?"he asks suddenly

"Sure," she agrees, he jumps down from the tree house, it's a little stupid but not unsafe and they've done it a thousand times before. She follows suit and his hands grab her waist to steady her when she stumbles a little in her heels.

He keeps his hands there, pulling her closer to him as hers wrap around his neck.

"Always thought you looked so good in blue," he admits as his thumb strokes her waist, the silky material soft under his grip. "Like a princess," he adds

"Always thought you looked so good in a suit," she grins, blushing a little as he twirls her around

"I miss you," he hums out, pulling her back closer this time, her head resting on his chest.

"I miss you," she returns.

"Y'know I never stopped loving you. Not even for a second. I regret it. More than anything," he's practically whispering and his heart stops when she stills in his arms.

"I can't do this," She whispers, tugging herself from his arms

"Darling-"

"No. George, I love you, more than anything. So I can't. It's your little brother's wedding and you are lonely and you are all mixed up and we haven't seen each other in so long and weddings, merlin weddings, they confuse everything and I can't. I can't do this one last night thing. I'm sorry,"

Before George can reply, can tell her that she's so far from right she's turned around and is speeding back towards the party.

Tell your mom to stop sending me recipes she finds on the internet And when your brother wins homecoming king I won’t be there to witness it And when you find the words to express That you don’t think I am the one And friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

She pulls her apartment door open a week after the wedding, surprised to see George Weasley a determined look in his eyes and soaking wet from the rain.

"George,"

"Hi. I need to talk to you," he doesn't seem nervous, he seems like there's a fire in his belly, a determination, a purpose, a need.

"Oh, sure. Come in," She moves aside, letting him in. "The living area is at the end of the hall. I'll go grab a towel," she directs.

He looks around the living area, it's open plan to the kitchen and it's cosy. Full of pictures and little trinkets, it is fundamentally her and his he feels more at home there despite having never been before than he does in his own flat.

She re-enters, throwing a fluffy baby pink towel at George before heading into the kitchen, grabbing an extra mug having been in the process of making tea when he arrived, and fixing them both a tea how they like it.

"So, you wanted to talk?" she prompts, sitting crosslegged on the couch, her fuzzy pjs and messy hair so domestic and beautiful he would marry her on the spot to get to see her like that every day.

"You said that you didn't want to do one last night, well, I don't either. It wasn't wedding goggles making me look at you different. I am in love with you. So, in love with you that being without you makes it hard to breathe and I want you back, not just for a night but for the rest of my life," He thinks he should be nervous but he's not. It's her. He could never be nervous with her.

"George, that makes no sense why would you-"

"Listen, I have never felt good enough for you. The whole time I've known you it was like you were so above me and I could never be on your level, no matter what happened you were always perfect. You were, and are, too good for me,"

"George, I have never been-" she starts but he cuts her off

"I had to help Fred. He is my twin brother, my best friend. He nearly died and I was terrified. He was nearly crushed to death and I realised I could loose him, I could loose anyone I loved. That included you, obviously, and that's how it started. I was scared to be with you because if I lost you I couldn't cope. I couldn't survive. So I started pushing you away. But you. Merlin, you're so good that it didn't matter. I pushed you away and I was wrong to do that but you didn't waver for a second. It was my responsibility to help Fred. To go to physical therapy with him. To hold him when he cried. To be there no matter. I would have done it no matter what. But you. You didn't have to do that. But you did. You didn't complain. You didn't walk away. You helped fix Fred even when I was being crappy to you," He rants

"George, I loved you and I still do. I would have done anything you asked me to, I still would. But I didn't help Fred because of you. I didn't do it for you. Not cause I was too good. I helped Fred because he's been my friend since I was 11. I helped Fred for Fred. Not for you," She explains, George sighs.

"I know. I just was in this state right? I was scared to loose you and you've always been too good for me and I just didn't know what to do. Then, Fred was getting better, and I felt empty. I wanted Fred happy and healthy of course but I'd become so used to spending all my time trying to fix things, trying to keep everyone afloat. It felt like everything stopped. Like no one needed me. I became obsessed with things I could. I couldn't fix you, I couldn't fix us, because nothing needed fixing. You were so perfect for me that I didn't need to fix it. That scared me. The more I thought about it the more I realised if I lost you, no one could fix me, I couldn't loose you but I wasn't good enough for you. It had to be me. My terms. My breakup. It was stupid, but that was I hadn't lost you I'd given you up and that was better," he explains, tears flooding her cheeks as she suddenly understands everything that's been happening for the past months.

"Georgie, you never needed to be scared. I'm not going anywhere, I promise,"

"I know. I'm sorry that I hurt you,"

"George, I love you,"

"I love you darling, more than anything," he smiles

"So another go?" she questions timidly

"If you'll have me," he nods, she grins. Hands shoving his shoulder's back to lay against the sofa, knees on either side of his waist. Her lips touch his for the first time in months and it's like they can breathe again.

They lay side by side in her bed that night, bare skin pressed to each other, holding each other as tightly as humanly possible.

"Can we stay here all day tomorrow? I just wanna lay with you," she speaks tiredly, her head on his chest

"Ron and Hermione get home from the honeymoon tomorrow," George informs, she moves her head to look at him "We have a dinner thing, looking at the wedding pictures too,"he continues

"That'll be nice. You aren't leaving my bed till the very last minute though," she decides

"You should come," he prompts, giving her a squeeze

"You really think your family won't mind?"

"Please, they love you. They'll just be glad to see we are back together,"

"We could be going as friends," She teases, he rolls his eyes

"Not to a family reunion we couldn't. Besides, I have every intention to hold your hand and kiss you the whole night so they'll probably catch on. Aside from Percy, bless him, he's socially inept,"

If we’re just friends don’t bring friends to family reunions If we’re just friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

**

Masterlist

[marlena-immortale]

Movie Nights

Summary: You and Thomas both have a crush on each other but are too nervous to make a move, until one day he finally works up the courage. (Based on these requests ⬇️) 

- Hi! Could you maybe write something about being roommates with Thomas, and you both have kind of fallen for each other, but don’t want to ruin the friendship so youre both too nervous to say anything? (Until of course, one of you can’t take it anymore and confesses). Thanks regardless!

- Would I please be able to request a Thomas fic where he and reader have been best friends forever and always secretly had a crush on each other, then finally confess their feelings? Then maybe it turns smutty 👀

CW: Not super smutty but a little spicy, just some titty touching and making out, mostly just cute fluff and mutual pining

Word Count: 1.5k

You and Thomas have been close friends for years now and, after you graduated college, you decided to move to Italy and Thomas offered to let you move in with him to the extra room in his apartment. And now, the two of you are inseparable. You’re always tagging along with him and the band when they go out, when you’re welcomed by all of them of course, and you and Thomas are joined at the hip the whole time. Strangers are always confusing you two for a couple and you both just laugh it off but you secretly don’t mind. In fact, you would absolutely love for it to be true. 

One night, you’re out at a party with Thomas and the rest of the band and you’re talking to Vic by the wall, watching Thomas dance out of the corner of your eye. 

“Honey, we can all see it,” Vic says when she sees you staring off yet again. Your attention is brought back to her, cheeks heating up. 

“See what?” you sheepishly respond. 

“We see you and Thomas always flirting with each other but both of you are too afraid to make a move,” Vic says with a smirk, leaning in close so no one else hears. 

You feel your cheeks heat up even more, realizing that everyone knows your little secret. You cross your arms in a vain attempt to protect yourself. “I- I do not flirt with Thomas. And he certainly does not flirt with me,” you stutter through. 

Just as you attempt to compose yourself again, you see Vic smiling at someone and look over to the direction of her gaze to see a smiley Thomas barrelling his way over to you two. Once he gets to his destination, he immediately wraps his one arm around your shoulder and the other around your waist. He was always super comfortable and affectionate with you so this wasn’t out of the ordinary. 

“Hey ladies, having fun?” Thomas says.

“Tons. I think I’ll leave you two alone now though,” Vic responds while already starting to walk off.

Thomas quickly stops her. “Wait Vic, stay! Don’t worry, we won’t do anything you wouldn’t wanna see,” he says with a wink in your direction. Vic raises her eyebrows and looks to you as if to say see I told you. You roll your eyes at both of them and watch as Vic shakes her head and smiles, walking away from you. 

You’re suddenly very aware of your surroundings, you get a little nervous. That’s not to say you mind being encased in Thomas’s arms, but he does get your heart beating a little too fast sometimes. Thomas notices you staring at him and pipes up, “you wanna ditch this place babe?”

He just called you babe. Your heartbeat now comes to a complete halt. But, he calls everyone babe right? You’ve definitely heard him call Damiano babe before, and maybe even Vic too if you think back. So this can’t mean anything. Right?

Thomas takes you out of your thoughts by holding you closer and asking, “well, is that a yes?” 

“Oh. Yes-uh- yeah let’s get out of here,” you somehow get out of your mouth. You don’t know why you’re so nervous all of the sudden, you’re not usually like this with Thomas. You try to shake it off as you walk together to your car. This party was interrupting one of your weekly movie nights so you spent the car ride discussing what movie you should watch instead. 

As soon as you make it home, you order delivery from your favorite pizza place and open a bottle of wine. You pour two glasses as he sets the pizza box down on the coffee table in the living room and turns on the movie you’ve selected. 

You bring the (way too full) glasses of wine and hand one to Thomas as you get under the soft, warm blanket with him. You immediately cuddle up to him, resting your head on his shoulder with your arm resting around his neck and his around your waist. You scooch back so your side is against his chest, halfway in his lap. He smiles and blushes when you snuggle closer and cheers your glasses.   

A few hours later, you’re both a little wine drunk and somehow have cuddled up even closer to each other under the blanket on the couch and you can feel each other's heartbeats racing. You look up at him and see that he’s already staring down at you, you ask, “Why aren’t you watching the movie?”    

Feeling incredibly bold from the wine, he says, “because you’re more interesting to look at”. You can feel the warmth in your cheeks rise and a smile appear on your face, but your nerves are still present. He could mean it in a friendly way, or it could just be a joke, you thought. 

You realize he’s being serious when you see a blush reach his cheeks as well and start to shift under you, trying to escape your grasp, thinking you don’t feel the same. 

“No, wait. What do you mean?” you say as you stop him from shifting away. 

“I-Uh-I  well… I mean I think you’re really pretty y/n,” he stutters. The tension between you two is suddenly palpable and you both are just sitting there not saying anything, staring at each other. 

You decide to say ‘fuck it’ and quickly finish your third glass of wine, pouring what’s left of it into your mouth, and grab Thomas’s glass from his hands before setting them both down on the table. You lightly grab his face, pulling him into a gentle kiss. He’s not kissing you back so you pull away to see his slightly stunned face. Thinking you’ve fucked up, you try to come up with words to apologize before he finally comes to his senses and goes back in for another kiss, this time filled with much more passion and intensity. His long fingers end up tangled in your hair at the back of your neck.

After a few seconds, you both pull back, breathless with dumb smiles on your faces.You start laughing all blushy and happy and Thomas join in, confessing, “I’ve wanted to do that since I first met you”. You’re both so relieved and you realize you could’ve told him a while ago and could’ve been kissing him long ago. You decide to make up for lost time and go back in for another kiss. Your hands find their home in his hair as you pull him in even closer. His plush lips massage your own as your tongue darts out to softly brush against his bottom lip. His hands make their way to your waist, and while you're both distracted by each other's lips and tongues, he fidgets his long fingers around the hem of your shirt, pulling and rubbing at it. 

“You want me to take it off baby?” you offer, noticing the nice feeling of his fingertips on your skin and wanting more. 

He gets somehow even more shy and cute, not even realizing where his hands were, and stares at you blankly for a moment before remembering to answer with a, “yes...please” and a nod. 

His puppy-dog eyes combined with his begging goes straight to your core and your breathing instantly gets heavier, not realizing how much you’d enjoy that. You smirk, keeping eye contact with him while slowly pull your top over your head and throw it to the floor. Your eye contact breaks as he shifts his eyes down to your bare chest. You get a little bashful when you see him staring and attempt to cover yourself with your arms before he grabs your wrists and says, “don’t cover yourself, you’re so beautiful”. 

You smile, feeling slightly more confident in your body seeing the lust in Thomas’s eyes. You lift yourself onto your knees and swing one leg around his hips to straddle him, sitting in his lap. You go back to kissing his lips before trailing them down to his neck, feeling his stubble scratching against your lips. His hands are hesitant and he doesn’t quite know where to place them so you help him decide. You take his big hands into your own and bring them to your newly revealed breasts, pressing them down and encouraging him to explore and play with them however he wants. He likes the little whimper he hears when his nimble fingers brush against your nipples so he does it again. Your lips make their way to the base of his neck and graze your teeth over the sensitive spot, hearing Thomas moan in your ear. 

You raise your head to look him in the eyes and see how flushed he’s become and just how pretty he looks in your arms. “Do you want to take this to my bedroom?” you ask. He nods his head and you both smile, getting up to walk together hand in hand. You can’t seem to wipe the smile off your face as you realize you finally get to spend every night in bed with Thomas now.

[tayegi]

A note on Asian privilege

As some of you know, I live in a small, predominantly white suburban town. Last week, I went to the grocery store and stood in line waiting to check out behind this old white couple. I noticed the nice conversation the cashier was having with the couple, and figured that we might have a similar exchange. So I went up to the cashier when it was my turn with a friendly greeting, but the moment she laid eyes on me, her expression completely changed. She immediately dove for her hand sanitizer and smeared it all over before she would even touch my groceries, and didn’t respond to my greeting. And even as she bagged my groceries, she refused to make eye contact, and kept a healthy distance between us, even with the glass divider already in place. And that’s when I realized that she wasn’t just being rude-- she was terrified of me. That even though I was born and raised in the US and have not stepped foot in Wuhan China, she was scared that I might carry a deadly virus and get her sick. 

I have experienced many condescending and outright racist insults in my life, both subtle (e.g., “But where are you really from?”) and overt (e.g., “Go back to your country” and other racist slurs), but never have I ever experienced anyone reacting to me with fear before. And when I told this story to my family, they were equally as shocked. “Why would she be scared?” “But you’re so small and harmless!” I remember feeling strangely embarrassed by the encounter-- like I was the one to blame for the cashier’s fear of me. That I should apologize for the deadly coronavirus just on account of me being Asian. 

And that’s when I realized that this is exactly what Black Americans have experienced everyday for hundreds of years. 

That feeling of being seen as dangerous. Of others being afraid of you. It is gut-wrenching. And it is mind-blowing that no one in my family has experienced this until 2020 with COVID-19. This fear of Asians will pass, as COVID-19 either passes or becomes integrated into our daily lives. But the association of Blacks as dangerous criminals still continues, and will continue unless we do something about it. 

I am so beyond privileged that I can walk into a store without fear of being followed by a cashier or accused of robbery. That I can call police for help without fear of being shot or arrested instead. 

Asian Americans are called the “model minority” and some even wear this title as a badge of honor. It is not a compliment and should not be viewed as such. It’s a manipulative way to turn minority groups against each other. “Look at how much Asians have achieved. Why can’t black/Latino people be more like them?” Why? Because Asians already come from a place of immense privilege. 

We love to pat ourselves on the back and think of ourselves as hard-working underdogs who overcame the barriers of language and racism to succeed. I won’t deny that there are hardships that immigrants and other Asians face. No one is saying that you didn’t suffer!! But your sufferings are in no way comparable to what Black Americans face on a daily basis. And that’s because most Asians come from highly educated or wealthy backgrounds. Think of all the international students you know-- what’s the stereotype about them? That they’re filthy rich, huh? And why’s that? Because it’s true. Asians currently have the highest SES and are the most educated of all ethnic groups in the United States. The only Asians who are allowed to immigrate to the U.S. are usually the richest or most educated. And there aren’t negative stereotypes about dangerousness or criminal behavior around us. 

My dad was a poor grad student, and I grew up in relative poverty as a kid. I remember watching him struggle to make ends meet. But even then, we were highly privileged. Both my parents already had their bachelor’s degrees before immigrating. Do you know how rare that is? Both of them had decades of education and support that set them up for success in the United States. Sure, there was the language barrier, but they were offered free ESL classes from the university. And if all else failed, they could easily just go back to their homeland and find work there. And once my dad graduated with his graduate degree, he was instantly able to find high paying jobs that instantly launched us up to the middle class. Yes, I was poor growing up. Yes, my parents struggled. But they were highly educated, coming from privileged families, and could teach me and pass down those skills. 

The number one predictor of your future SES and income is your parents’ income. 

Let that sink in. 

It’s not hard work. It’s not intelligence. It’s what privilege you were born with that determines your success. Now imagine if you had to start all the way back with slavery. Where you were just an object and had no rights or money. The “American Dream” is just a lie rich people tell to keep poor people in their place. “If you work hard, you can achieve success.” And then they try to use Bill Gates or Zuckerberg as examples of this “American Dream.” Bullshit. Sure, Gates & Zuckerberg dropped out of Harvard to pursue their dreams, but they were privileged enough to get into Harvard in the first place. And I can guarantee you that I would have never gotten into my PhD program-- wouldn’t have even dreamt of applying, if not for my family of academics. 

Asian Americans need to shake off the title of “model minority” and stand with Black Americans. We might be seen as particularly well-behaved dogs, but we’re still dogs in the system. We’ve seen how fast the American public has turned on us during the COVID pandemic. I doubt there’d be even a fraction of this xenophobia and violent hatred if the virus came from Europe. Don’t forget that Japanese Americans were imprisoned in internment camps during WWII. Not even Germans, who started the war, but the foreign-looking ones. And don’t forget that the Chinese weren’t even considered human and weren’t allowed to be U.S. citizens until less than 80 years ago. The system is no friend of ours. No matter how they try to flatter us with all this “model minority” bullshit. We are not special and we will never be seen as equals by Whites. 

Standing in solidarity with Black Lives Matter is standing for equality. It means that we will not put up with white supremacy and systemic injustices anymore. The system is broken, and I am sick and tired of seeing other Asian Americans do everything in their power to try to be perfect, unoffending citizens and appease white people in power. We have to fight for justice and equality. Not just because the tides can turn at any time and put us at harm, but simply because it is the right thing to do. And we, as a community, are in a unique position of privilege in order to make change. 

Black Lives Matter. And check your goddamn privilege. 

[helliontherapscallion]

Anon who’s dog had a seizure. I wanted to be able to give a positive update, but I won’t be able to. I was woken up by a call at around 1:30am from my mom and the first thing she said was “[my dogs name] died”

I don’t know all the details, I was in a full fledge panic attack and was overcome with despair when it was either explained to me or I overheard (frankly, I don’t remember) but apparently at some point either last night or veryyyyy early this morning my mom let the dog out to use the restroom, and he collapsed again similarly to how he did two days ago. My mom rushed him to the emergency vet (a thirty minute drive) but he didn’t even make it there.

I think I was dry heaving at some point because my panic was so bad. I ended up going to the vet with my dad so I could say goodbye (he had before my mom left with the dog) and ngl, going with him did not help in the slightest. My dad has NPD and he kept making the situation about himself and I stg I was ready to throw myself out the car window in the middle of the freeway and walk the rest of the way there OOP—

I was afraid we wouldn’t be able to because of Covid, but we were allowed to all head into the vet and hold him and give proper goodbyes before they took him to be cremated (they have a partnership with some place that does all that jazz). It was rough. He’s a small dog, only 18 pounds, but just holding him felt so different. There was no resistance when I picked him up (I’m not his favorite person lol, so he’d always deadpan and shuffle away a little from me before giving in whenever i’d make grabby hands hahaha) and it was just rough.

A year and a half ago my old bird passed away in that same emergency vet, so I just felt like I was suffocating the whole time. It was basically history repeating itself and I had a ✨mental breakdown✨ while cradling the pooch. My mom almost had to drag me out 2.5 hours later because I didn’t want to leave him. I tried to be strong, he was her dog in the end and they had an unbreakable bond. I should’ve been the one comforting her, not the other way around. I totally failed lol.

Thank god I was able to go home with my mom and not my dad. I wanted to be the one to drive home so she could rest, but I didn’t have the energy to protest when I saw she was already in the drivers seat.

We’ve had him since he was a few months old. I was in first grade at the time, and despite us having a very rocky start (young me didn’t like all the attention he received bc it used to be mine) he was my lil buddy and I would have done anything for him. I was looking forward to taking my senior and graduation pictures with him soon, but it seems like that won’t be happening. I just wish I did more with him.

Sorry for rambling and being so depressing! I haven’t gotten much sleep over the past two nights so I’m really out of it.

If it’s not too much to ask for, could I have a part ii of my previous request but have it involving what I wrote above? Asdfghjkl my depressed ass needs comfort and all of my friends are in school LOL. (Thank god I was called off from school this time) Plus, I don’t wanna make my mom feel worse by adding my grief on top of her own (I hope that made sense)

Part 1

(A/N): anon, I’m so sorry to hear about your dog. From what you sent me about him, he sounded like an absolute delight to be around and a very good boy. You deserve to grieve too, even if you don’t think you should. Grieving is healthy and it’s something that shouldn’t be ignored. Everyone grieves differently, so maybe you and your mom could reminisce on the good times with him? Only if you both feel comfortable doing so of course. Please get some sleep, drink plenty of water, and eat some food if you haven’t already. My DMs are always open if you ever want to talk <3

Warnings: death of a dog and bird (mentioned), panic attacks, NPD parent mention

You were jolted awake by a loud ring from your phone laying on your nightstand. It was the ringtone you specifically set for your mom. Blinking deliriously, you answered with a raspy, “mom?”

You were only met with her choked sobs on the other end. This woke you up completely as you turned on a lamp and sat up fully in your bed, “mom what’s wrong?”

“(Dog name)...” She was unable to say your dog's name before she broke into more harsh sobbing. Worry and fear pricked your gut at the mention of your dog’s name. “What about (dog name)? What’s going on?”

“He d-died, (y/n). He isn’t suffering anymore.” You felt as if ice cold water was poured onto you as you sat staring at the wall in shock. Faintly you heard your mom telling you how it happened, but you didn’t register her words. The words that came out of your mother’s mouth were nearly incomprehensible anyways due to her distress. You didn’t know when she hung up, but the next time you looked at the phone screen your homescreen met you: a picture of you, Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy at an amusement park. 

Your panic attack had escalated to you dry heaving over the toilet after puking up your dinner. You felt like you were suffocating as you remembered the techniques Techno used a few days prior. You stumbled up from a crouch and scrambled over to the sink. Your hands could barely grab the faucet and turn it on as you lost most of your sense of spatial awareness and everything you touched felt distant, like every single synapse in your body was both simultaneously working in overdrive and failing at the same time. The water was as cold as it was going to get, so you plunged your hands into the liquid and felt your body jolt at the temperature. After a while, your hands turned numb after regaining some senses back so you shakily cupped your hands under the faucet and gathered water into your hands. You splashed it at your face and felt yourself becoming more grounded as time passed.

By the time you left the bathroom, your dad gathered you into the car and started to drive you to the emergency vet. The entire time he was ranting about how you needed to pull yourself together because the dog was closer to him than to you. That definitely did not help in any way, it made you want to jump out of the car and walk the rest of the way to the vet. It would be better than having someone constantly belittling you for grieving. The ride was hell, but you persevered for (dog name). You needed to say goodbye to him.

When you left the car and walked into the building, it felt as if you were walking through the nine rings of hell with blazing infernos licking at your skin with every step. Dread and despair filled and overwhelmed you with every step. 

When a nurse escorted you to the room, she offered you her condolences and left you to say goodbye. With wide eyes, you slowly walked over to your mom and saw the motionless bundle of fur in her hands. It looked like he was sleeping, but you knew better. She looked at you with so much heartbreak and sadness as tears slipped down her cheeks that you remembered that he was her dog in the end and they’ve always had an unbreakable bond. You needed to be strong for her.

Your stony facade broke the second your mom handed you (dog name). He was cold and stiff as he laid unmoving in your arms, not even trying to wiggle out of your embrace like he always did. You were never his favorite person. He felt so… different. So wrong. 

Time passed around you as you held him and cried into his fur. This situation was very similar to your previous one that happened about a year and a half ago when your bird passed away and that was what finally sent you over the edge. Before you knew it, your mom was dragging you out of the building so he could get cremated. Your dad had long since gone home so he could get ready for work, so that left you to ride home with your mom. Not that you were complaining, it was certainly better than riding home with your dad. You just wished that you could drive so she could get some rest. 

By time you got home, it was about the same time you would leave for school. As you were driving down your neighborhood, you saw a very familiar car pass you. It was Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy’s car. They were probably going to school. You kept your head down and stared intensely at your tightly clasped hands. 

The second the car was in park in your driveway, you made a beeline for your room. For the rest of the day, you hid underneath your covers and ignored the incessant buzzing of your phone on the nightstand. You spent that time alone having a panic attack. This was your longest and most intense one yet, by the time it finally calmed down it was 10:30 at night. 

You smacked your dry lips together and feel absolutely drained. The buzzing still wouldn’t let up, so you reached out with a shaky hand and opened your phone. You had at least eighty combined missed texts from Wilbur, Tommy, and Techno. 

Tuesday, Innit?

Yo, the fuck’s goin on? 

Why the hell did you ignore us when we passed you???

Music man take me by the hand lead me to the land

Ignore that dumbass

What’s going on? You weren’t at school today

(Y/n)?

Technology Sword

You don’t have to tell us what happened if you’re not comfortable

Just tell us if you’re okay

That was only the start of the messages in the group chat. Granted it was mostly Tommy spamming your name and Wilbur and Techno trying to get him to chill out, but some of the messages managed to calm the swirling panic inside of you slightly. Your phone buzzed as you got another text. This time, it was an individual one from Technoblade.

Technology Sword

Look out your window, grab your notebook

You raised your eyebrows slightly as you read the message. Your window was right across from Technoblade’s, so when you saw Taylor Swift’s “You Belong With Me” music video and showed it to Techno, you both decided that this would be your primary communication before you eventually got phones. It wasted a ton of paper, but you both felt like the main characters in a story so you kept doing it. You hadn’t done this since you got your phone and he got his. 

After you grabbed your spare notebook and a sharpie, you sat up in your bed and turned on your lamp. When you opened your curtains, you saw Techno smiling at you before he grabbed his notebook and wrote ‘hello’. 

You uncapped your marker, wrote ‘hi’, and shakily raised it to him. You saw him frown at your shakiness, he wrote ‘you okay?’

You stared at your paper for a bit contemplating whether or not you should tell him the truth. It was no use in lying to him, he knew you better than you knew yourself. After a moment, you wrote ‘no’.

You watched as he frowned and his eyebrows crinkled together in an upwards slant. ‘Discord?’

‘Sure’

You closed your curtains once more and opened up your PC. You could already see that Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy were in a separate voice channel. When you joined, you were startled by Tommy’s loud screaming and Wilbur’s hysterical laughter. 

“WILBUR YOU PRICK WHY THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT I WORKED SO HARD GETTING THAT NETHERITE!” 

They were interrupted by a knock on Tommy’s door, “Tommy for the love of god it’s almost eleven at night kiddo. You can keep playing but please just keep it down.”

“SORRY DADZA!”

“Good job dumbass,” Wilbur chuckled.

“Hey (y/n), how’re you?” Techno’s somewhat pointed voice interrupted them. “(Y/N)! Please tell Wilbur that it’s not cool to borrow my armor and ‘accidentally’ fall into a lava lake.”

“It was an accident I swear!” Wilbur’s slight chuckle told you otherwise. “Wilbur,” your croaky and wobbly voice scolded him quietly, “not cool.”

The voice channel went silent as you logged into your shared minecraft server. You immediately spawned in the main lobby at spawn that you built the last time you logged in. You got to work gathering wood for walls you were going to build around the city. You saw Techno’s character run to you and help you gather wood. 

“...You good, (y/n)?” Tommy’s voice took on an uncharacteristic level of gentleness and concern. 

“‘M fine.” 

After a while of silence, you heard keyboards start to click again. Gradually conversation started back up and everything felt lighthearted once more. Though, you only talked when you were prompted to. After gathering the correct amount of wood, you and Techno went back to your house so you could craft some slabs. However as you approached the crafting table, you passed your bed. Next to your bed was your pet dog, barking slightly and looking at you with it’s pixel eyes. 

You could feel tears well up in your eyes at the sight of the pixelated dog. With a lump forming in your throat you struggled to breathe through it, your breaths coming out shuttering. You made quick work of muting yourself on Discord and started sobbing, the white dog staring at you sitting on top of your minecraft bed. This wasn’t a panic attack, you knew that. But you still felt overcome by a massive wave of grief. 

After a bit, you saw Techno’s character pop in front of you and start hitting the air. In chat, you saw that he private messaged you ‘vc 2’

You clicked off the main voice chat and was immediately greeted by Techno’s gentle voice. “What’s goin on buddy?” He was only met with your sobs, “deep breaths.”

“I’m not having a panic attack.”

“Still, deep breaths are good. Follow me.” With that, you two worked on getting your breathing back to normal and your tears slowly stopped. The entire time he was giving you praise and gentle reassurances whenever you tried to apologize to him. By the time you stopped crying you felt almost completely drained. 

“You okay now?” You hummed in confirmation, too tired to say anything. “Thank you Tech, I-I’m sorry-”

“Stop apologizing for feeling emotions. They’re one hundred percent valid… Do you feel comfortable telling me what happened?”

“I…” You trailed off as you couldn’t bring yourself to say the words out loud. “You don’t have to tell me, ya know.” Technoblade gently reminded you.

“I’ll PM it to you.” With that, you PMed him on minecraft explaining that your dog died this morning. “Fuck, I’m so sorry (y/n). I’m sure he isn’t suffering anymore. Did- did they ever find out what caused the seizures?”

“No, but… he had tons of health issues that I’m glad he doesn’t have to deal with anymore.” 

“Do you wanna talk about the good times with him with Wil and Tommy? If you don’t want to we can just talk about them here.”

“Let’s rejoin the main voice channel.”

“Hey (y/n), how’re you doing?” Wilbur gently asked you. “I’m alright, do- do you guys know what happened?” They both said yes. Technoblade must’ve told them what was happening.

“(Y/n) come outside. We built something for you.” Tommy was uncharastically gentle. 

When you moved to go outside of your minecraft house and Wilbur and Tommy led you to an empty spot in the city you four were building, you stopped in your tracks. In front of you built in various types of stone was a dog statue. In front of it stood a sign that read ‘in loving memory of (dog name)’.

“We aren’t done with it, but we can finish it in a couple of hours,” Wilbur mumbled into the microphone. 

“No, it’s perfect as it is. I don’t know what to say guys…”

“You don’t have to say anything, just know that we’re here for you.” Tommy said, his minecraft character walking over to your own and hitting you. 

“Oi, don’t hit them!” Techno punched him back and that started an all out brawl between the two. It quickly ended when Techno pulled out his fully enchanted netherite sword named ‘Orphan Obliterator’. 

“Get fucked, nerd.” You could just tell Tommy was holding in screaming at his brother. “I’m not the nerd here, you’re the one that reads for fun.” Tommy retorted. You heard shuffling on Techno’s end and him walking away from his PC. You were about to ask what was happening before you heard Tommy silently scream in terror. “Oh fuck he’s coming!” You assumed that Tommy ran to lock his door. Not long after that you heard a knock, “I just wanna talk.”

“No! You-”

“I just wanna talk.”

“Let him talk, Tommy!”

“NO WILBUR.”

You heard Philza’s groggy muffled voice, “it is midnight on a Friday. I don’t care what happens or who fights who, just do it in your own rooms and do it quietly.” 

“Sorry Dad,” you heard Techno’s retreating steps before he returned to his chair. “You’re a douche, Technoblade.” 

“I just wanted to talk, Tommy.” At that, Techno started beating Tommy to death once more. Each time he would kill Tommy, he would give Tommy a small head start before he would find him again. While this was happening, Wilbur PMed you ‘wanna prank Tommy and Techno? I’m thinking we put chickens under their houses’.

You looked at his player and nodded. You and Wilbur got to work luring chickens into holes you dug around their bases and burying them so that they were close enough to hear, but deep enough for it to be mildly inconvenient finding them. After you two were done with that, you met at spawn again.

“Techno stop killing Tommy. We want to tell stories about (dog name).” You saw Techno’s character sprint to your group and Tommy’s come up from a hole in the ground. “I was just about to find him.”

“Thank you! God, I hate it when he does that.”

The rest of the night you four spent reminiscing on the funny things that (dog name) did over the years. At some points you even laughed along with them. After you told them that you wanted to take your senior pictures with him, Techno offered to edit him into your photos. You didn’t know when you passed out but when you woke up, you had a crick in your neck and your PC monitor was off. You could hear three sets of soft snoring on the other end of the call. You felt yourself drifting off to their gentle breathing and smiled slightly; with them, everything felt better. 

[jadedxrealityw]

-Meeting The Family- Draco Malfoy x Female Reader

    ☼-🐍-☼

     Request: hi darling, how you doing? can i request a draco x reader where is draco going to her house on christmas break to meet her parents? maybe she has a younger brother who is quite jealous of her and draco together? just something very fluff and funny !! thank you, i love your work btw ❤️

     Kody: YESS. I’ve been waiting for something like this for the sole purpose that i’m going to make the reader a Weasley!

     Year: 7th

    House: Gryffindor

    Possible Triggers/Warnings: Fred and George being the best siblings, Molly being Molly, Draco being literally terrified of the Weasley’s, a little bit of the spice spice at the end. 

    ☼-🐍-☼

   “will you stop pacing? Your making me nervous” you grumble, watching as the platinum blond hair boy walked back and forth in your dorm room “Your nervous? Your not the one meeting your girlfriends whole bloody family today” he snaps at you. 

    he walks over to the edge of your bed and sits down, putting his face in his hands “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you” he sighs deeply. You crack a smile and walked over to stand in front of him and take his hands into yours “It’s alright, but i’ll be there so there’s nothing to worry about. They’ll love you”

   Draco scoffs, leaning his head against your stomach “They have every right to hate me, my father is a horrible person to them and they’ll think i’m just the same as him” he spoke. You had never seen him so worked up over anything before, except for maybe when you got injured by a werewolf in the woods. 

    you purse your lips before sitting comfortably on his lap “Draco. You are nothing like your father and you will show them that. So stop moping okay?” you watch his eyes for a moment as he nods his head “Okay darling. I won’t mope. I just hope your right about this”

   “I’m always right”

    ☼-🐍-☼

    today was the day, you had put on a blue, burnt orange, and brown striped sweater with blue jeans. The Weasley aesthetic really while Draco wore a emerald green sweater with black jeans (ik hawt). You stood in front of the burrow, holding his hand “Here we go” you spoke.

   you reach up to knock a couple times and the door swings open. It was Fred with a candy cane in his mouth. He looks at the both of you and nods once “Hey Y/n and Malfoy. I’m Fred by the way, not George. Just so you know” he sticks out his hand and Draco takes it. They shake hands. That’s a good start.

   he takes the candy cane out of his mouth and points behind him “Let’s head in shall we?” he says and you smile. As you both step in, you could hear everyone talking “Is Charlie here yet?” you turn and face your brother. Fred’s face drops and he shakes his head “He said he got busy with work.”

   you nod slowly, your expression dropping “Oh, okay” you shrug. “Y/n!” you hear a familiar shout and watch as Molly and Arthur come from around the corner. You let go of Draco’s hand and walk up to them. They both embrace you tightly. You pull away from them and walk back to Draco.

   you could tell how tense he was when he saw your parents. “Mum, Dad. This is Draco” you say and slowly brought him up to them. Draco cleared his throat before speaking “Hello Mrs. and Mr. Weasley. Thank you so much for inviting me” he spoke. So polite. 

   your mother smiled warmly at him as well as your father “Well, were glad you came. Seems like our girls like Slytherins” Molly let out a laugh. You raise a brow “What do you mean?” “Hey Draco” you both turn to the right and see Pansy Parkinson come out of the hallway. Oh right, Ginny’s girlfriend.

   Draco smiled kindly, she was his friend after all. “hey Pans” he replies. Pansy waves before disappearing into the living area. “Now, you two join your siblings in the living room while we finish dinner” Molly spoke and leant down to kiss your forehead before leaning with Arthur “I think that went well”

    Draco nods “Me too”

    ☼-🐍-☼

    “Percy, don’t be such a buzzkill and take the candy cane” George sat next to Percy, jabbing him in the side with the peppermint treat. Percy just rolled his eyes and continued to read the book we was holding. You chuckle as you sat on the sofa with Draco, his arm wrapped around your shoulders.

   It was certainly a full house tonight. Molly, Arthur, George, Luna, Fred, Percy, Ginny, Pansy, Bill, Fleur, Ron, Hermione, you, and Draco. You wondered where you would all eat considering your family table could barely fit the kids who already lived in the house. “Your family is much different than mine” Draco whispers to you.

   you turn your head to face him with a smile. “Yeah, we’re definitely stranger then other families” you laugh quietly, a grin forming on his face. “I like it. I’m so used to the quiet that i forgot that actual families talk and hang out with each other” he spoke, his eyes glossing over a bit as he looks at the tall christmas tree.

   you reach into his lap and grab his hand, bringing it up to your lips to kiss his knuckles. “I hope i don’t make you feel as alone anymore” you spoke with a small frown on your face. Draco shook his head and with the arm wrapped around your shoulders, he grabs the back of your head and pulls you into a kiss.

   it was sweet and loving. To bad you had shit for brian brothers. “Hey hands off Malfoy! No snogging my sister while i’m here!” Ron shouts, causing you to pull away from the kiss. Hermione seemed annoyed with her boyfriend and pushes his shoulder “Y/n can do whatever Y/n want’s get over yourself Ron”

   George and Fred both choked back laughter then actually choked on candy canes. Idiots. Ron grumbled something and crossed his arms. What a child. After more talking you had the urge to go to the bathroom and laid your head in the crook of Draco’s neck “I’ll be right back. I have to use the bathroom. Okay?”

   Draco nods and places a hand on your thigh to squeeze it gently before unwrapping his limbs from yours “I’ll be back. Be nice. All of you” you gaze at all your brothers because Ginny at least knew how to be nice to Draco. You give a sharp glare to Ron before you leave the living room.

   Fred watches as you walk out of the room and like a pack of dogs, every single Weasley sibling crowded Draco. He thought he was going to be murdered on the spot as his grey eyes widened. Bill smiles lightly and holds out his hand to shake “Hi, i’m Bill. Anyway as you probably know were missing a Weasley tonight”

   Draco grabs his hand and shakes it “Charlie, right?” he says and all there heads nod. Oh this is so creepy. “Right. Well you see Y/n is really close to Charlie, but she hasn’t been able to see him for almost three years and such, so Fred told her he’s not coming, but we plan on surprising her when we open gifts”

   a small smile graces the Slytherins face- wait. “Why are you telling me this?” he questions and Percy speaks up surprisingly “Because you make our sister happy and considering you both are graduating next year, we figure your  going to be around more often and- so welcome to the family Malfoy”

   Draco was in complete shock as Percy spoke, considering he thought Percy hated him the most. Y/n was right. “Thank you. I also want to apologize for my fathers behaviour towards your family as well as mine in the past. It took me awhile to see you guys the way Y/n does”

   the twins shake their heads “Don’t worry about it. Your dad’s a real piece of work. Y/n tells us your mum’s nice enough though” they spoke in unison. Draco nods “yeah, she’s not judgemental” he reassures. “Anyway, we hope your having a nice night though. Right Ron?” Bill turns to face the younger Weasley.

   Ron looks at Bill and shakes his head, but Bill hits his shoulder “Yeah yeah whatever. We hope your having a blast” Ron then tore away from the group and went back to sitting with Hermione on the other sofa, mumbling something along the lines of ‘snogging his sister’ 

   a couple minutes later you came back into the living room and were pleasantly surprised to see Bill, George, and Fred chatting with Draco who seemed to be smiling brightly. What a sight. You lean against the doorway and watch as he interacted with your brothers. 

   you watch as they all went to sit on the floor so Percy, Ginny, Hermione, Luna, and Pansy could sit down and chat as well. Who would thought the Slytherin prince would get along so well with your family. “You guys seem to be having fun” you say as they turn to look at you. 

   you look to your left to see Ron sitting alone on the loveseat with a scowl on his face. You wave the group off before going to sit with your brother. He looks at you then the floor “Y/n” he spoke and you smiled lightly “Ron” you say in the same manner. “Why aren’t you sitting with the rest of them?”

   Ron scoffs under his breath “Why should i? Malfoy will never be friends” he comments and you reach up to lift his face, making him look at the group laughing and talking. “Look at Percy. He’s the most stuck up person i know and he is having a blast talking to Draco and Pansy. Why do you have a problem?”

   Ron sighs and pushes your hand away “Because your my sister. Yes, i know Ginny is to, but we’re the same age you and i. I can talk to you about anything, but ever since you and Draco got together. It hasn’t been you and i. It’s been you and him. What’s gonna happen when your married? I’ll never see you”

   you frown. You didn’t know Ron felt this way at all. It wasn’t as surprising though to be honest “Ron. Your my brother and i love you dearly. I’ll never forget about you or George, Fred, Percy, Ginny, Bill, and Charlie. Your my family. If your ever feeling alone. Just talk to me, okay?”

   your words seemed to cheer Ron up. He nods and looks over at the group once more “Let’s do this.” he said and stood up.

    ☼-🐍-☼

    after dinner the whole family including the lovers were in the living room again, passing out gifts. You watch as a square shaped box decorated with orange wrapping paper and a red bow floated from out a room and into each and every ones laps “oh wow, i wonder what these could be” 

    George spoke sarcastically before getting wacked on the head by Molly. You chuckle and look over at Draco who stared at aw in the christmas gift in his lap “Are you alright my boy?” Arthur spoke up. Draco looks up and nods eagerly “I’ve never gotten a real christmas gift before. My mother snuck me sweets and such, but never anything like this”

    Molly gave Draco a look of solace before smiling “Well, i hope you enjoy this one! Now kids open them up!” she shouts and you all start to rip open the wrapping paper and you saw a deep red sweater with your first initial on it. Every year. The Weasley kids slip on there sweaters “Thanks mum!”

   after slipping yours on, you look over at Draco who had a emerald green sweater in his hands with the letter ‘D’ on it. He looked excited as he takes off his quidditch sweater to put on Molly’s. “Do you like it Draco?” you spoke “i absolutely love it” he a wide smile spreads across his face.

    Luna got a baby blue sweater

   Hermione got a deep red one as well

   Fleur got a white sweater

   Pansy got a emerald green sweater as well as Draco.

   Pansy slipped hers on and nods smugly “i look awesome. I’m never taking it off. You’ll have to kill me first!” she exclaims as Ginny laughs beside her “She’s not joking either” Luna pulls the sweater over her head and wraps her arms around herself “So warm” she mumbles in her soft voice. 

   George smiles brightly and wraps his arms around her “Your so cute” he says before kissing the side of her face. Fleur looked down at the sweater on her and smiles warmly “I adore it” she spoke in her thick accent and Bill nods before grabbing her hand to kiss her knuckles.

   Molly clapped happily “I’m so glad you all like it. Now me and Arthur are going to get the christmas cookies from the kitchen. We’ll be right back out!” she announces before leaving the room. Everyone began to talk amongst each other and while you were distracted Draco snuck off into the kitchen.

      ☼-🐍-☼

   “Um hello” he spoke up. Molly turns around and places the icing bag she was holding on the counter. “Ah Draco! Did you need something?” she asked, waving her hand for him to step closer. Draco walks over and immediately felt a cold shiver run up his spine. He was nervous.

   “I wanted to ask you both something?” he says, gulping. Arthur and Molly look at each other before smiling “Sure, go ahead” Arthur spoke. Draco takes a deep breath to calm his nerves “Me and Y/n have been dating for three years now and i know we only just turned 18, but i wanted to ask for your blessing to marry her when the time is right”

   Molly gasped loudly, before covering her mouth “Oh Draco! We would be more than happy to give you our blessing. She talks about you all the time and you had been nothing but kind to her and our family. I know you are much different then your father. you’ve learn to accept and adapt”

   Draco felt as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders and he smiles “Thank you so much. Uh- can i help ice those? If you’ll teach me how?” he laughs nervously and Molly nods.

    ☼-🐍-☼

   ten minutes later Draco came out holding a tray of cookies with your parents. You smile lightly at the sight. How cute. He places the tray down on the floor where the group sat and everyone began to much on cookies, except for Fred and George. Where had they gone off too? Draco takes a seat next to you.

   he hands you a cookie and you smile, taking a bite “You snuck away to ice cookies with my parents?” you ask, laughing a little. He nods with a smile and pecks your lips quickly, “Seemed fun” he replied nonchalantly. You roll your eyes and continue to eat your cookie in piece.

   after everyone ate one Molly shot up from the sofa and gasped “Godric! We forgot Y/n’s present outside!” she exclaims, causing everyone to look at her. You tilt your head “What present?” you ask. “We all pitched in and got you a present. It’s so big we have to show you outside” Arthur spoke.

   you were now thoroughly confused as everybody made there way to the front door and walking out. Draco grabs your hand and lifts you up from the ground. You both walk outside and see George and Fred on both sides of a tall present, wrapped in orange paper with your name written in red ink.

   you laugh nervously. What was going on? “Um- do i open it?” you ask and Ginny nods, pushing you forward “Go on! Open it!” she shouts. You watch as George and Fred walk away from the present and behind you. “we suggest to pull the red ribbon then step back” George points out.

   you chuckle with a confused expression before taking the end of the ribbon and tug it once. You hear a couple clicks and step back quickly as the box falls apart. A tall male with orange hair and a red sweater with a ‘C’ smiles at you. Charlie. You watch as he steps out the box and opens his arms.

   “Hello my little dragon” he smile brightly as you ran up and tackled him into a hug. He lifts you off the ground and spins you around as you cling onto him. After a couple seconds he lets go and eyes you up and down “You’ve gotten so tall! and your hair is different. I also hear you have a boyfriend” he teases.

   you smile widely and nod “Yeah. He’s hear. Um- Draco!” you turn around and call for your boyfriend who steps towards you, holding out his hand “I’m Draco Malfoy” he says politely as they both shake hands “I’m Charlie! I hope my little sister hasn’t annoyed you too much. She’s mental this one”

   you huff and wack your older brothers arm “Hey! Don’t scare him off!” you shout, making Charlie laugh. He shrugs his shoulders “I don’t think he’s going anywhere. Your in for the long hall Malfoy. Welcome to the Weasley’s!” he exclaims and Draco smiles as he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

    ☼-🐍-☼

   the party came to an end and everyone made there way to there perspective rooms. There was surprisingly enough room for everyone, to be fair your pretty sure that your father used a spell to add some extra rooms of some sort. You put on black and white flannel pants with a black crop top, as well as a dark grey jacket.

   Draco had on a black t-shirt and his boxers. You yawn as you began to fold up your sweater and place it in your trunk. You feel hands wrap around your waist and pull you close to his chest. “I had fun tonight” Draco mumbles against the skin of your shoulder since your jacket had slipped down your arms a bit. 

   you smile and lean your head back to look at him “You did? I’m happy. I’m also happy i got to see my brother” you spoke with a warm smile. Draco hums in response and slowly begins to pull the jacket off of your arms “I promised my mum no funny business while were here Draco”

   he smirks and begins to place sweet kisses on your neck “You may have promised that, but i didn’t darling” he rasps. You feel one of his hands run across the exposed skin of your stomach as his thumb traces the hem of your pants. “Why are you always horny?” you asked.

   “I don’t know? Have you seen yourself?” he chuckles as he spins you around to face him “Come on darling~” he coos and dips down to kiss your collar bone. “I-” “-Goodnight Y/n. Goodnight Draco!” you heard Charlie, Percy, and Fred shout. Oh those little shits.

   you flush in embarrassment and sputter out a goodnight back as Draco growls in frustration. “Cockblockers” he snarls, making you laugh. “Don’t worry, there going to do it to every couple in here. Didn’t expect Percy too though, just listen” you say and Draco keep quiet to listen.

   “Night Ginny. Night Pansy!” 

   “Go away were busy!” Ginny shouts

   “Sleep tight Fleur and Bill!”

   “You all are insufferable!” Bill yells making you snicker a bit

   “We don’t have to worry about Ron and Hermione. Ron has got like zero game” Fred speaks and they all laugh.

   “Hey i heard that!” Ron shrieks in offense.

   “Sleep well George! Sleep well Luna!”

   “You guys can’t pull this shit on me! Shove off!” George shouts and you hear a door slam.

   “Goodnight” Luna says. What a sweet girl

    ☼-🐍-☼

   Kody: I hope you enjoyed this one. I really liked writing it! Anyways peace.