#so it took us couple of hours to reach them bc they were hidden way back and then we put them in a box

[rosesnbooks]

kittens. that's the post

[levisgirll]

How about one where levi comforts his s/o on her birthday? She maybe doesn't feel as important or not good enough? My bday is actually coming up and im a bit anxious for it and i tend to cry on my birthdays for no reason, but now im feeling as if i have a reason to cry? idk but i just would like some fluff/comfort with levi bc i love him sm. Thank you!

𝐚 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐲 (𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐀𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

text: hello anon!! First of all thank you so much for your lovely request I would gladly write this up for you 🥺💕 and second HAPPY EARLY/LATE BIRTHDAY <3 I hope I am not too late and you get to see this post either on your birthday or before :,) I hope you have a lovely day filled with love and laughter cause everyone deserves that on their birthday 🥰 and also I hope this post somehow helps you go through with your bday and makes u feel perhaps less anxious or sad! I kind of felt like this on my last birthday but I went to read some fanfics and they kind of helped me out and made me smile so I hope that is the same case with you when you read what I wrote for you :,) also i made this modern au ahhhh

synopsis: it’s y/n’s birthday! He tries to make this day special as it is since he wants his s/o to realize that! Later he finds out that his s/o feels on this very day not that important and also tears up. As Levi discovers that, he does and says things only on your birthday that really made you surprised and on this day you felt extremely good and special y/n cries happy tears instead <3

comfort fluff, bit angst, a little bit suggestive (?), modern au ♡ —

Today is the day, and not any day but Levi's s/o birthday! He woke up extremely early for this day. He had already planned out what to do coming from a man who is pretty much organized and ahead of things you weren’t shocked to see him getting up quite early.

“Levi..?” Y/N said in such a soft and tired tone, it really warmed his heart. “Love...Happy birthday.” He would go near your ear and whisper that, then gave you a kiss on your forehead. “I’m sorry I didn't mean to wake you up...Go back to sleep.” He would say as he pushed your hair back gently that was laying on your face. You felt his warm fingertips brush against your cheek and you open your eyes slightly to look at your man, Levi that was up and putting his shirt on. You got up a bit reached out and pulled on the his shirt “Wait...don’t leave.”

He turned around quickly and looked at you, ‘Why does she sound uneasy....?’ He would wonder as he came closer to you and kissed on top of your head. “Silly, I’m not leaving or going anywhere. I’ll be in the kitchen so just rest a bit and I’ll wake you up later on, Hm?” Levi said with a smile, after the war and when you both left Paradise to start a life in the outside world, Levi started to smile more, laugh and be even more affectionate towards you and this warmed your heart. He promised you that he would protect you till the last days even if there was no war anymore and also....promised you to show you more love cause he deiced to spend the rest of his life with you, and he was in progress in doing that!

After a couple of hours, you felt a small rub on your shoulders. “Time to wake up birthday girl” He gave you a warm smile and helped you get out of your shared bed. You felt how gentle, and careful he was for you...he truly did cherish you and loved you a lot, you meant the world to Levi.

As you were brushing your teeth, Levi was brushing your hair and when he was done he would put his arms around your waist and kept kissing your neck until you were done and ready.

Your cheeks were red now and you had a shy look on your face. “Ha, Don't be shy with me Love, it’s just us alone.” He would say and softly rub your arms. “Let’s go then?” and you give him a nod and held on his hand.

When you both went downstairs, you gasped and was taken aback by what you saw. A beautiful breakfast that was set up and prepared for the both of you, a sack of pancakes with fruits that was cut by him, your favorite fruit juice, and there was a vase with a bouquet and you could see a card that was hidden in the beautiful flowers he picked out for you and it was written ‘Happy Birthday my Dearest’

“Wow, you did this for...me?” You would say while giving him a sad expression that almost broke his heart. “Who else?” He said with a sarcastic tone and pulled your hand towards the table. You and Levi enjoyed the breakfast and you both had a good morning filled with laughter.

“Sit down, I’m gonna clean the dishes” you nodded and went to sit on the coach. You then started to feel...a bit anxious? Y/N wondered how the rest of the day would go and you started to think if what Levi did was all worth it?

“Love, what's wrong?” Levi was quick to read your vibe, he approached you from behind, and sensed you were feeling perhaps down. “Nothing...”

“Yea I’m not gonna buy that, tell me....What’s wrong?” Y/N stood up slowly and was looking down, her hair was covering her face and that made Levi quickly go in front of her and held on her shoulders. Tears then started to roll down from your cheeks and Levi pulled you to his chest for a hug. “I-I don’t know why I’m tearing up! But I am feeling as if I have a reason to cry and I usually cry on my birthdays Levi...I’m sorry, it’s probably for nothing.”

“Why are you apologizing?” He hugged you tighter and then proceed to stroke your hair. “These feelings are completely normal, why apologize for it? But it’s okay you don’t need to explain why you are crying love.” Levi waited for y/n to calm down as he caressed her hair, and Y/N pulled her face away from his muscular chest and looked up at him. He gave a small smile to her and wiped her tears “Let’s....make those tears not for ‘nothing’ or for ‘no reason’ to be wasted, but instead let me make those tears a reason for you today. A reason that caused you to smile and laugh today.”

Levi was now looking at you in such a loving way, you could feel all his love, emotions, the way he caressed you, hugged you, touched your hair gently and now holding both of your hands, it warmed your heart. He was indeed a man who was really mature, and has a great deal of empathy towards Y/N. Levi understood your feelings cause of the deep love he had for you. “You are important to me, okay? So, let me make those tears....happy tears instead.”

After a while, Levi told you to get dressed up and ready because he was going to take you somewhere. You both left your apartment that you both shared at the moment and walked down the street, while Levi tightly holding your hand and on the other hand he was carrying a brown paper carrier bag which had something in it. “What’s inside?” “A surprise.”

Later did you know, you both reached a huge garden park and you saw a group of people that you recognized. Your friends! “Everyone!”

As soon as Hanji hear you, Hanji came running towards you and hugged you tightly which was then followed by Jean, Mikasa, Armin and the rest all wishing you a happy birthday!

You then spotted Onyankopn, Falco and Gabi preparing the huge picnic filled with a variety of delicious food and then Levi brought out the cake which he designed and baked just for you.

The whole afternoon was spent with your loved one, friends and you all had such a great time, playing some card games, tennis which Jean and Connie that they brought along with them. You were packed with so many gifts too, and Levi was holding on to your waist and hand the whole time and would sneak in some kisses on your cheek when no one would look. Hanji then talked about how your relationship was going and Levi would suddenly talk really highly of you, and pamper about you then he would mention all of the times you meant a lot to him and he cherished.

The sun started to set and everyone was heading to leave, and Levi held on your hand and you both went to see the sunset while sitting on the bench. You found the sunset really beautiful, but to Levi he thought you were more prettier. He held on your hand and then said while focusing on your eyes “You know...When you are not around, I always crave for your touch. You just make me feel good so I always find myself a chance to hold your hand constantly.” Before you could say anything, he gave you a box that was wrapped with a ribbon. “Open it.” Your eyes widen when you saw the gift, it was Rose Gold Watch and it looked rather expensive but extremely charming. He went closer to you and brought your wrist closer and wore the watch for you. “I knew this would suit you.” Levi smiled again and looked at you, tears were now forming on your eyes but this time...it was happy tears and you gave him a big smile that really warmed his heart. “Thank you Levi, I really love you...” He went closer to you and kissed your cheek which washed away the tears that was rolling down. “I love you more....And didn't I say I would make that happy tears today, Hm? But we aren’t done, your birthday did not end yet”

After you both reached home, you both went to the bedroom and you started to change into your comfy silk nightgown, while Levi took of his shirt and was only...wearing his joggers? ‘Wait...He would only do that if he is in the mood’ You thought as you started to blush slightly.

“Lev-” Your words were taken aback when Levi suddenly embraced you and kept his face in your neck while bring his arms around your waist. “Can...I make you feel good tonight? I want to make your birthday memorable....just for today.”  It was more of a whisper when he said it, and you managed to hear it all even though you could feel his heart beating fast.

Your face was now red, you could feel his back muscle tense up and the detail of it as you caressed his back. You nodded, which Levi sensed and acknowledged, but asked again. “I need to hear your answer love.” He was now looking at you and he held on your shoulders, waiting for a response and he would not let you go until you answered. “Yes Love” You said with certainty and looked back at him which he suddenly blushed with you how you responded. Levi did had a tough and strong personality from the outside, but when it came to moments like these he was really soft and usually shy but tonight he wanted to try his best for you, cause you meant the world to him.

He picked you up and you could feel his biceps around you which you held on as he gently laid you on top of the bed, with Levi being on top of you. He leaned in closer and gave you a kiss on your forehead. “Oi! I can be romantic…So why are you giving me that look?” He said with a smirk and that made you laugh. “Hmm...Prove it then.” You challenged him and that made his ego boost up. He proceeded to kiss all over your face which made you giggle as some of them tickled, and then he stopped and reached the edge of your lips which made both of you open your eyes and gazed into each other, both feeling the affection and attraction. “Shit...it drives me crazy when you look at me that way.” He went and kissed your lips, it was soft, slow and very passionate...you could feel all of his love in that kiss as you held on his biceps while his arms where between you for support.

“Where....else do you want me to kiss you?” He moved closer to you as he whispered near your ear, you felt his hot breathe which made you shiver. “A-Anywhere..” You were a blushing mess right now, but you weren't alone your boyfriend Levi’s face was redder than yours.

“O-Okay....Y/N I’m gonna make sure tonight you feel loved tonight, and I want you to focus right now how good you are and how wonderful you are.” As he said that, your face was burning up, ‘what made Levi say this all?’ you wondered.

He came closer to your neck, and was kissing it...you held on to him and hugged his chest, and he was doing it gently. This then left a small hickey on your neck and he was surprised as it was kind of dark.

“I will leave this mark on you so you can remember my love tonight, and know that you are always in my thoughts Y/N” He brought his hand and caressed your cheek which you held on, “And...when its gone, I’m here to give you another one.”

Perhaps, in the days you cry, there would be sad days, but today was a special day which was your birthday, and that not only gave you any tears but instead happy tears which was cause of Levi giving you the warmest/sweetest comfort and love throughout the whole day and especially the whole evening. You really did love Levi Ackerman.

well i hope you enjoyed this! I tried something new and I really see levi doing this for his s/o especially in days where he wants to make them feel loved and he really tries his best to comfort them <3 I hope you loved this anon and you get to see this and also if anyone else did please leave a like or a reblog! ♡

[hermannsthumb]

Okay but what about Hermann is just horny 24/7, but he's repressing his feelings. And Newt who sees it and maybe is enjoying a bit. And one day Newt just pins Hermann to a lab wall, ties his arms with a belt or sleeves of his shirt and teases Hermann until he melts in his hands. And Newt murmurs to Hermann something like "sweetheart, you could have just said.." This thought makes me DEAD

a fic! somewhat obviously rated 18+/not for kids' eyes!!!!! so all hidden below the cut, lmfao. dedicated to people on side twitter bc boy do I love some light d/s + nerm

It’s not like Newt’s never looked at Hermann before. Look-looked, in like, a sexy, considering way. It gets lonely in the lab with just the two of them, after all, and usually Hermann is the only face Newt will see for hours, days, one memorable occasion when they were super-swamped with work, a week. His face is the only one that comes to mind when Newt wants to have sexy thoughts for that reason—it’s just, like, easier and takes less imagination to masturbate to the thought of the guy you see every day than anyone else. And Hermann is kind of hot, Newt guesses, in a weird, repressed nerd kind of way. He thinks it has something to do with not knowing what Hermann's bothering to repress so bad. Maybe he's got a hot bod under all those layers or sucks dick like a porn star or something. Or he's hiding how horny he is all the time and would love nothing more than to cut loose for once. (Newt would be happy to take one for the team!) It's gotta be that, because Newt can't imagine why else the thought of Hermann—scowling and hunching over a chalkboard in one of his god-awful tweed blazers—gets him so goddamn riled up every time he sticks his hand down his pants.

Whatever the appeal is, Newt's masturbatory fantasies tend to tilt towards very particular (and well-loved) scenarios: Hermann finally gets fed up with Newt’s obnoxious behavior and shoves him against a wall to teach him a lesson, or Hermann holds Newt down on a bed or the lab couch or the floor and has his way with him to teach him a lesson, or Hermann grips Newt’s shoulders and uses his mouth in any way he sees fit to teach him a lesson. Newt's real into the idea of Hermann being in control. Or, in other words, Hermann doing the doing, Newt doing the taking. Not that Newt is adverse to topping. He'd be down for it if Hermann was. (And not that Newt spends a lot of time considering what Hermann is down for, and whether or not letting Newt top him is on that list, but yeah, Newt does kind of hope it would be.)

He's just...always assumed Hermann would want things that way. Newt's kind of assumed that he would want them that way, too.

All of his preconceived sexy notions about Hermann come crashing down around him one completely ordinary day in the lab.

It happens in a flash, too. A couple of seconds max. Hermann is over in Newt's space (he flagrantly disobeys the tape line more than Newt does, no matter what he may claim), shouting at him about something dumb and waving his cane around for dramatic effect. Only he's not looking where he's waving it, and the end of it comes into contact with a vial of some somewhat lethal weird kaiju gland extract that Newt's been planning on experimenting with this week, and the whole thing fuckin' shatters. "Shit!" Newt says, at the same time Hermann says "Bugger," and, before Newt knows it, Hermann's reaching out to save a pile of Newt's lab notes from certain kaiju gland death.

Which is royally stupid of him. That stuff is already eating through Newt's wooden work bench like it's nothing—God knows what it'd do to Hermann's skin. Newt's messy notes are not worth it.

"Dude, no," Newt exclaims, and grabs Hermann's wrist to stop him.

And Hermann...moans.

They stare at each other. The kaiju gland extract drips to the metal floor, where it sizzles harmlessly.

Hermann pulls his arm away.

"Clean this up," he snaps. He turns heel and storms out, giving Newt a spectacular view of the fiery red flush spreading down the back of his neck.

Huh, Newt thinks. That's something new.

-----

"I'm not some sort of sexual deviant," Hermann assures him. "I have. Er. Entirely respectable—tastes. Typically."

"Uh-huh," Newt says.

"Only this is quite out of character for me," Hermann says.

Newt pulls his tie taut around Hermann's wrists to watch Hermann squirm and grins, just a little, before knotting it loosely. "No offense, Hermann," he says, "but bondage isn't exactly hardcore. Besides, it's fine if you like out-there kinda stuff. No judgement."

“But I don’t,” Hermann says.

“I’m not saying you do,” Newt says, “I’m saying—”

“And this isn’t bondage.” Hermann sniffs. “Bondage sounds—”

"Look, dude, do I need to gag you?" Newt jokes.

Except Hermann maybe doesn't get the joke: his eyes widen, and mouth hangs open. Not exactly the shouty, loud response and demand for respect Newt was expecting. Also something new. Newt's learning a lot of very, very unexpected things about Hermann, and part of him wishes he had a notebook or his tape recorder on hand to take inventory of all of it. Subject A (Hermann Gottlieb) likes having his wrists pinned and his big dumb mouth shut up. Conclusion: ? "I—I beg your pardon?" Hermann says.

Today marks a week after the kaiju gland incident. A week of furtive glances across the tape line, Hermann's badly-hidden blushes, and Newt reevaluating every single goddamn thing he's ever thought or assumed about the guy (and himself, to be honest), and Newt was finally the one to snap. In Newt's defense, it wasn't totally out of the blue. At lunch time an uncharacteristically quiet and bashful Hermann slid a cup of coffee onto Newt's desk, mumbling something about how Newt really needed to get more sleep, and Newt just...

Hermann didn't moan when Newt grabbed his wrists that time; his tongue darted out over his lips, and he looked at Newt through the dark eyelashes of his half-mast eyelids. "Please," he had said.

Newt gets why Hermann was being so weird and cagey about it, he really does. It’s hard to admit to yourself you want something kinda embarrassing, and Newt knows it’s just as embarrassing for Hermann to like him as it is for Newt to like Hermann. Newt’s weird, and small, and probably smells bad, and Hermann’s weird, and smells bad (cigarette smoke and moth-eaten sweaters, but Newt jerks off to it anyway, huh, doesn't he), and is slightly not as small. But holy shit, if he didn’t melt into a puddle when Hermann breathed that out all desperately, like it took all he had.

“Do you want me to gag you?” Newt says.

He’s using the skinny tie Hermann claims to hate so much on his wrists, or he might’ve seriously balled up the fabric and shoved it into Hermann’s mouth. There’s not much else in the way of gags readily on hand in the lab, no fabric scraps or anything like that. Maybe they’ll try it later. He kisses Hermann instead, slipping his tongue past those open lips, and Hermann parts them wider with a throaty groan. "Ah, Newton—"

Newt didn’t really expect their first kiss to go like this. He didn’t expect their first kiss to, like, happen in the first place, but it’s especially weird that it’s happening while Hermann is bound up and pressed up against his chalkboard. Newt's been keeping an eye on Hermann's leg, careful of any sign that it's going to give out and that they should move this to the couch, but Newt's knee between both of Hermann's seems to be all the support he needs. “I’m here, dude,” he says, and slips down to press a gentle kiss to Hermann’s jaw instead, then his neck. Hermann tilts his head back with another groan; he flexes against his restraints.

Is Newt the first person Hermann's ever done this with? Or trusted enough to tell he wants to do this?

The possibility kinda just makes this all hotter to Newt. He drags the tips of his fingers up Hermann's chest, feeling his heart pound through the thick layers of his button-down and sweatervest, and drags them back down. He stops just at Hermann's bound wrists. Hermann groans softly. "Do you want me to touch you more?" Newt says.

"Please," Hermann says, "ah, please, Newton—"

Newt does, smiling as he curls up on the toes of his boots and presses another kiss to Hermann's mouth. His right hand, he uses to ruck up Hermann's sweatervest and dig under his shirt; his left hand, he curls the fingers of in Hermann's skinny tie bindings to tug sharply. Hermann's chest is bony and warm beneath his palm. His heart is beating faster, and faster. "Please," Hermann begs again, and this time when Newt kisses him, he sags against Newt helplessly.

"Hermann," Newt murmurs. Hermann's breath is fogging up his glasses and making it difficult for him to see. Which is a goddamn shame, because Newt wants to, like, memorize the image of a flushed and panting and begging Hermann, tattoo it to his skin forever as a reminder of today, a whole big splash of color on his back where he was planning on putting another kaiju. Yeah, Newt takes back what he said earlier, Hermann isn't just kinda hot—he's very hot. He drags his tongue over Hermann's pulse point, and says, just as gently, "Hermann, you could've just said."

Newt would've done anything for Hermann when he grabbed Hermann's wrists and Hermann breathed out a simple please, and Newt would do anything for Hermann now. Newt would get every single tattoo removed if it meant making Hermann happy. He bites down on the sweaty, pale skin of Hermann's neck, unable to hold back a moan of his own when Hermann's whole body writhes with it, and shoves his hand down Hermann's oversized slacks.

"I want you to come," Newt mumbles, rubbing at him furiously, "I want you to come, I wanna make you come, I wanna—"

Hermann muffles his cry in Newt's shoulder when he does. Newt waits until he's stopped shaking to untie his wrists carefully, and isn't surprised when Hermann immediately grabs Newt's shoulders to steady himself. (Hermann thighs are still trembling from the awesome orgasm Newt gave him. It's pretty hot. But also, Newt should probably grab his cane for him.) "You—you've made a terrific mess of me," Hermann sniffs, vaguely annoyed, like he's reprimanding Newt for knocking a piece of kaiju intestine on the floor again.

Newt decides not to mention to Hermann that he kinda soaked the knee of Newt's jeans, too. He can do laundry later. "Sorry, man," Newt says, but Hermann gives another, happier sniff when Newt kisses his cheek. "I'll take care of it."

[braindeadforiwa]

Can I request some first kiss head canons with Tsukishima, Kenma, and Tanaka? If that's alright, thank you for your time and writing!

i gotchuuuuu first kiss headcanons comin right up! i hope u enjoy <3

Tsukishima

you’d been on your way back to your apartment, the crisp winter air nipping at your nose and cheeks, when you spotted a familiar figure on the swings in the small park you passed nearly every day

the sun had set long ago at this point, and though you knew tsuki suffered from insomnia usually he didn’t make his way outside he’d usually opt to read a book or watch a show

you didn’t say anything as you took the swing next to him

he’d talk when he wanted to, that’s something you’d learned early on in your friendship

much like a cat it was better for him to cross that barrier and make that first move than you

“you’re coming home late,” was the first thing he said

it was a statement but you knew the question that was hidden there

“co-worker was sick so they needed some extra hands,” you replied

he hummed in response, the sound low

to others it likely sounded disinterested, but to your trained ear you knew it wasn’t him brushing off what you’d said

“you should go home and get some sleep” he said after a minute to which you told him you were tired just yet

and that’s how it continued for the next hour, small conversations about nothing of particular importance, stretches of comfortable silence mingled in 

the night sky was clear, and if you squinted you could make out the stars dotting the blanket of navy blue

the moonlight cascaded down to gently illuminate the park around you and creating a silver halo around tsuki’s hair

you’d joked with him once in the past that if things didn’t work out on his current path of working at the museum he could always try his hand at modeling

he’d only replied with a tsk as he went back to the book he’d been reading

“hey.” tsuki’s voice had taken on a slightly more serious tone ((though admittedly he sounded serious a good majority of the time)) “thanks for always keeping me company on the bad night...or whatever”

maybe you were seeing things but you could’ve sworn u saw pink color his cheeks

you reached out to tug your swing closer to his and grinned at him “that’s what i’m here for idiot”

his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you

after a few seconds had passed you were worried he’d actually been insulted that couldn’t be though, you’d called him worse before and he’d never batted an eye, just rolled them

you were about to ask when he quickly leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips

you were barely able to react before he pulled away and stood up, leaving you there to try and wrap your head around what had happened

“like i said, thanks,” he said before starting to walk away, his blush hidden now hidden in the darkness

“i- wh- TSUKI YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT AND WALK AWAY” you yelled before scrambling to follow after him, your lips pulling into a smile when you hear the smallest laugh escape him

Kenma

You’d been officially dating Kenma for a couple months now

most of your friends argued that the two of you had acted like a couple even before you two had become “official”

your friendship had just been one of those things where you two worked in tandem so well that the natural course of things landed you here

even now that you two were official nothing had really changed, the time spent together was the same, the interactions and conversations were the same, the only thing that was really different was there was more cuddles involved during movie nights

Currently you were in the kitchen making dinner while Kenma was busy with a charity stream

it’s something he’d started doing at the beginning of the year -- every month he’d have his subscribers choose a charity to raise money for and he’d stream until the goal was met

he liked having you over when he was doing these because you helped make sure he actually ate when he needed to

“and the company was nice” he’d told you after one stream

You knocked on the door to his room before entering, plates in hand

when kenma saw you he paused the game he’d been playing, removing his headphones

you walked over to kenma and gave him his food, waving to the camera, before heading over to the couch to eat your own dinner

while kenma ate he’d just talk with those in chat -- answering questions, talking about upcoming games and his most anticipated, discussing his thoughts on games he’d recently played

occasionally chat would have some questions for you and kenma would call you over to interact a bit

this had been the routine for nearly a year now, starting before the “official dating” started

"huh? yeah, we’re dating,” you heard kenma say nonchalantly, your ears perked up at that. “i’m not answering that,” kenma then said, his voice it’s usual calm

“what’d they ask?” you said

“they wanna know if we’ve kissed”

you hummed in response with a small chuckle. the answer was no, but if he wasn’t saying anything you wouldn’t either

the stream finally ended a few hours later and kenma let out a sigh

you walked over to his chair where he was with his head leaned back and his eyes closed

“congrats on reaching your goal,” you said brushing the hair back from his face

he hummed, opening his eyes a moment later to look up at you, brown eyes meeting your own 

he looked at you for a beat longer before asking “can i kiss you?” a gentle smile danced across your features before you leaned down, meeting his lips with your own

Tanaka

Life with Tanaka was always an adventure, that’s how it had been for the past four years you’d known him and it’d likely continue to be one in the future

On that particular day he’d told you about this secret place in the forest over by the park

he’d apparently heard about the place from one of his buddies from work

you were Not particularly interested in going into a forest bc you were Quite certain Tanaka would get both of you lost

you had good reason to believe so mind you, it had happened on the last few adventures he’d taken you along on

there were numerous reasons that he gave to get you on board with the search

“the forest isn’t even that deep!”

“c’mon y/n you’ve got me to protect ya from all the big nasties we might face!” coupled with a confident grin and a flex of his muscles

“damn i didn’t know you were such a baby” accompanied by a smug grin

at the end of it all he managed to wear you down and now you found yourself walking the path into the small forest

you had to admit you were pretty curious at this point and worst case scenario you got to tease tanaka and tell him i told you so

you two had met up at around noon and had been searching for about an hour or two now

tanaka was leading the way, looking at the directions his friend had given 

“okay we have to turn right”

“ryuu we already took two rights in a row, you’re gonna make us go in a circle”

“just trust me”

ultimately you did not find the secret getaway and unfortunately the heavens had decided to open up, rain cascading down from the darkened sky

the two of you had taken refuge under a large tree, its canopy doing a fairly good job at shielding you as you huddled together

even though you were soaked, there was a beauty to the whole scene

the sound of rain hitting the leaves of the trees all around, the drops ricocheting off of the rocks that lined the barely there trail

“well i can’t say i’m too disappointed, this is still pretty nice,” you said

you turned your head to look at tanaka to find him closer than you’d expected

what threw you off more was the soft look on his face

the heat of the blush rising to your cheeks contrasted the cool air around you

“ryuu-”

your question was cut off as he brought his lips to meet yours

the kiss was short, but still full of the energy that you were used to from tanaka, but underlying all of that was a gentleness -- a hesitance -- as if he were asking if this was alright

well your returning kiss was answer enough to that question

[wolfcha1k]

All I Can Think About

"One look and I can't catch my breath Two souls into one flesh When you're not next to me I'm incomplete 'Cause I'm on fire like a thousand suns I couldn't put it out even if I wanted to These flames tonight Look into my eyes and say you want me, too Like I want you"

"All my life I've been looking for a place my parents wanted me to find, and I found it… but now? All I can think about is Eep. My best friend, my first… and only love."

Guy and Eep reflect on what has happened in the wake of these two crazy moons since their Tomorrow was challenged. There's damage that needs to be fixed and broken hearts to mend.

Post!A New Age /// Guy x Eep /// hope you like kisses man, this is like 80 percent smooching time

You can also read it here on ao3 or FF.net: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29545320 https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13822786/1/All-I-Can-Think-About

I need to stop working backwards on the timeline but oh well. You can't convince that Guy wasn't fussing over Eep the moment they were alone after the events of the spiny mandrilla. Also tbh this was just an excuse to practice more kissing scenes, bc I know you all are secretly heathens

The moment Guy saw a chance to get away from the Pack he took it, quickly grabbing for Eep's hand to pull her down a random direction into the garden. She started in surprise before willingly following him with a trust Guy didn't feel he deserved anymore after last night. Guy didn't stop until he felt they were far enough away that nobody would find them without looking very hard, hidden behind some of the large gourds and corn.

He spun around to face her, letting out a long sigh. Guy just needed a moment to look at her, dark eyes worried and concerned as the adrenaline of what happened just a few hours ago finally seeped out of his body. Guy was covered in bruises and ached all over but it was nothing compared to the pain of when he thought he lost her forever three times in the span of just two terrifying days of his life. Somehow The End of the World felt miniscule in comparison now that Eep was his world.

His Tomorrow.

He rested his shaky hands on her shoulders, relief making him dizzy. Eep supported the sudden slumping of his weight, her green eyes wide with concern. "Guy! What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," he said, a tired smile on his face as he looked at her.

She held him up by the arms before lifting him up into hers. Eep sat down on the grass and positioned him on her lap, stroking the fringe of hair away from his face.

She could see the swollen purple bruises on his cheek and the black eye he had, his lower lip looked swollen and puffy. "You had a bad day," she sighed, cuddling him close.

"Yeah," he managed to chuckle, finding some amusement out of her words. "But it's better now that you're here…" He pressed a tired, sloppy kiss to her shoulder and rested his forehead there after. "Empathis on the better."

She just tugged him closer, as if her arms could squeeze the exhaustion and nerves right out of him. "I'm sorry," Eep suddenly said, muffling her face against his cheek. He felt moisture against his skin and the slight tremor in her arms and shoulders. "I'm really sorry."

Her warbled words cut him like a knife and he used his head to nudge her back so he could look at her. He could see the beginnings of tears on her eyelashes, gaze watery as she blinked it away stubbornly. Guy reached his hand to touch her face, feeling her recoil a bit before relaxing into his palm. He wiped his thumb under her eye, catching a tear.

He realized his own eyes felt moist all of a sudden, it'd been an emotionally charged couple of days. "It's okay, Eep. You didn't do anything wrong, I was just so stupid."

She sighed heavily, unwinding an arm from around his body so she could cover his hand with her calloused palm. Eep said nothing for several long moments, just clutched his hand like a life line.

"Eep?"

Eep finally looked at him, tearing her eyes from the random direction she'd sent her sights towards. "Yeah?"

"You're not hurt, are you?" Guy sat up a bit in her lap, cautiously letting his palms trace her broad shoulders, fingers squeezing tentatively to see if she would flinch. He knew she was good at hiding things like injuries, nursing them in private as to avoid upsetting Grug, it'd also extended to him now. She was strong but that didn't mean he wasn't allowed to worry over her.

"No, I don't have a scratch on me," she assured him but Guy didn't stop checking her. Eep let him fuss though, knowing it would make him feel better if he came to the conclusion himself. His touch felt nice though, Eep realizing how starved she was for it since being separated from each other.

He touched her back, her arms, her ribs, anywhere his hands could reach in a modest way, careful in his examination. After running a hand down her leg, his eyes fell to where the prohestic was once on her pinkie toe. "I'm so, so glad you actually don't have a toe there," he sighed, knowing it was one of the most nonsensical, bizarre phrases he'd ever uttered in his seventeen years of life.

"Guess getting bit by that bearyena came in handy for once," Eep quipped, trying to lighten the mood a little.

He also was relieved she hadn't been ripped in half during the struggle, it had to be a miracle of some kind. Guy didn't voice this though, just traced his hands slowly back up her body so he could hold her waist. He missed her so much and he was quick to show her that, words failing him as he gently brushed her lips in a kiss. He let his hands slide up her back to lovingly stroke her shoulders, feeling the muscles ripple under his palms. She shivered and he shook, he pulled her closer as if to warm them both but still the trembling never stopped.

He always did love her shoulders and muscles, the clinical and practical part of him admired the strength and power there, how they could flex and be used to take down beasts twice her size. Then there was the simplicity of just being a man who loved a beautiful woman and it inspired a different kind of appreciation in him.

One that he knew Grug who absolutely skewer him alive for, his heart longing and aching as he hugged Eep. He never knew he could be so needy, it should have been pathetic as a puppy following its master for attention, never satisfied.

They'd shared an intense kiss over the raging flames but it still wasn't enough after the longest dry spell he had ever known since meeting her. After that first kiss in the ocean, he never got enough of her now. He was greedy and never was ashamed of that when it came to loving her.

He only wanted to be with her until there were no more Tomorrows that crossed the sky.

Eep quickly cupped his face in her hands and surged forward against him, her ferocity taking him by surprise. He practically squeaked when he felt the nip of her teeth on his bruised lip but somehow he couldn't care less. Just welcomed it, tilting his head and taking in the taste of her as he brushed her tongue with his. It was like fire and he was more than happy to be burned, letting Eep fly with him like the wild tiger in his stories.

He drew away a moment, just the slightest breath away as he spoke, pressing a few rapid kisses to her lips with each word. "You." Kiss. "Have." Kiss. "No idea." Kiss. Kiss. "How much I missed you," Guy finished in a rush, breathless as he lowered his head to trail a series of kisses down the column of her throat, grazing his teeth lightly on the skin of her collarbone.

There was a hitch in her breath at the affection. "Can't be more than I missed you."

He went to nuzzle her ear, placing a chase kiss on her earlobe. Eep arched into him and he clutched her tight as if she were water slipping through his fingers. "I thought I was going to die seeing you up there," Guy uttered in a strained voice. He could picture it so clearly, seeing her leaping and bounding across skeletal remains hanging precariously from old tendrils of vine. The spiny mandrilla closed on her heels and he could do nothing but watch, screaming her name out in desperation until his throat went raw. "I screwed up and almost didn't get to fix it."

Guy felt Eep nudge his head away from her so they could look at each other properly again. She just traced her thumb over his cheek, tender as she marked one of his hand print shaped bruises. "You saved me," she finally said, leaning forward to steal a kiss, smiling against his lips as they brushed, once, twice and finally a proper one that had Guy's toes curling and his head fuzzy. "I was so happy when I saw you again, Guy."

He'd been more than shocked to have seen Eep and the others arrive, riding Chunky and a pack of wolfspiders. He had practically given his last rights, resolving painfully he would never see her again, never fix what he had done to her. His first and only love, he didn't need to meet any other girls to know what he felt was real and it was more than just a beautiful teenage romance.

"You want to talk about heroics? How many people come swooping in on a tiger and take on a giant monster single handedly," Guy pressed his forehead against hers, awed by her courage and humbled by her love for him. "And here I picked a tree over you."

"It wasn't just a tree," she lightly scolded him much to his surprise. "I get it now."

Guy felt moisture collect on his eyelashes and without another thought, closed the distance between them once more. He let his hands roam, touching every part of her out of fear he would forget how warm and solid her body felt in his arms. It was almost like a dream, eyes shut tightly and listening to the soft little gasps in her breath, the way her chest heaved against his own. He hated needing to breathe when all he wanted was this, reluctantly pulling away as he felt light headed, exhilarated and breathless.

"Never again," he promised her, nuzzling his nose against hers. Eep practically purred at the loving attention, letting her palms rest on his shoulders to gently knead the tension there. He shuddered, forehead pressed into hers, knowing the gesture meant so much more than simple touch to her. "I'd rather chop off both my legs than lose you again. Please never scare me like that, I couldn't bare it."

She kissed his lips, gentle before in all her passionate nature, looped her arms around his neck and kissed him enough that Guy was convinced he'd forget his own name.

But that was okay, because she reminded him, pulling away. "Guy, I love you," she only said, beaming at him.

"Please say it again," he pleaded.

"I love you."

He felt his eyes growing glassy again and Eep kissed a tear away from below his eye, soft and tender. He smiled at her, embracing her tightly once more from his comfortable position in her lap. "I love you more," he murmured, kissing her shoulder.

"I love you more," she protested, lightly shoving him to nibble his ear, feeling his weight push into her.

"No, I said I love you more first."

"And I'm telling you I love you more right back," she purred, lifting her neck to give him better access to her jawline when he started to press an open mouth kiss there.

He felt her pulse rush under his lips like she'd ran a marathon, skin flushed as red as her hair. He couldn't help but kiss her again and again.

"You're so stubborn," he grumbled good naturedly, nuzzling her.

"Takes one to know one, babe." Eep grinned at him, stroking the nape of his neck and fiddling with his top knot.

It was just them now and feeling thrilled that he had her to himself, gently nudged her down, feeling her eyes bore into his. Guy braced his arms above her, not caring his muscles throbbed in protest. He could see the sun as it set shimmering there, burning with more than mere fire.

Her eyes were nearly amber in the low light of the evening, glinting with love. Those same eyes reminded him of the first night they met, curious and glowing as the fire flickered. He touched her face, fingers curling under her chin, taking in her flushed cheeks and kiss swollen lips. It was a good look for her. She was beautiful, and no amount of sleeping suns in the sky would ever compare.

There must have been something in his expression for he saw her tremble and emotion swelled within him as he shut his eyes. He ached in more ways than just the pain from the ordeal with getting pummeled by a bunch of punch monkeys.

No more words were spoken for a long time, whoever reached for whom first he didn't care. All that mattered was now she was in his arms, heart pressed against heart and the gentle whispers of breath against lips. She arched into him and it took all his might to remember how to breathe. She palmed his shoulder suddenly with a growl, pushing him beneath her and he didn't fight her.

No one and no thing would ever separate them again, he thought as he caught her lips once more in a fluid movement.

[scene break]

Grug had panicked when he realized Guy and Eep had disappeared. After today, who could really blame him for it? Everyone was quick to volunteer to find them, Ugga crouching to encourage Sandy to use that skilled sense of smell of hers. The fierce little tot bounded into the fields, disappearing into the tall grass and crops.

"She's got the scent!" Gran exclaimed, hobbling after her youngest granddaughter.

Grug just worried and worried, Ugga absently massaging a kink out of his large neck. "Relax, the farm is safe. I'm sure Eep and Guy are alright, Grug."

"Still," he began with a frown. "I'd feel better knowing that with my own eyes, honey."

They'd followed Sandy through the gardens, the farther they went the more Grug fretted. It felt too long when Sandy finally paused, several large bushes and crops shielding the view. She pawed in the direction of it, turning to giggle and pounce into Ugga's awaiting arms.

"Good girl, Sandy," she praised, pressing her cheek against hers fondly.

Grug lead the way, parting the foliage. Everyone shoved about behind him and attempted to peak around him, making the caveman huff in annoyance.

The family came upon the couple hidden amongst the fields of other worldly produce, cozy together on the grass as they traded needy little kisses. Alternating between whispering, giggling and pressing a small kiss here or there, Guy and Eep were content in their bubble. Guy was curled up as content as a house cat right in her lap, Eep's arms around him in a hug. The sight would have infuriated Grug once upon a time ago but he'd seen a lot in just two days.

Things changed and so did he. His daughter deserved happiness and having seen just how broken Guy had been over her, he knew it wasn't just puppy love.

It was full grown.

"Aw," Dawn gushed as she peeked over Grug's shoulders, standing on her tiptoes. "How cute, are they always like that?"

The typical young boy that he was, Thunk made a face, his travel window lowering. "Bleh," he only said. "Again already?"

Gran snorted and leaned over to Dawn to say inconspicuously, "You have no idea, smart girl."

Belt's only response from around Dawn's torso was to make a swooning gesture, unwinding an arm to drape it over his face. Dawn chuckled when immediately after the sloth was gushing over Sash who'd leaned down to nuzzle noses with Guy's little friend. "I get the picture."

Hope folded her hands to her chest, "I can't believe we tried breaking them up… who does that?"

The words Hope said affected Grug more than he wanted to admit and guilt swelled inside him.

Ugga patted him gently on the shoulder, rousing her mate's quiet contemplation. "Well?" Ugga asked him in that soft voice of hers, gray eyes shifting back towards Guy and Eep.

"Leave them be," Grug told her and the others, shaking his head with a reserved little smile. He felt sad but there was a fatherly resolve in his heart. Eep would always be his little girl but he had to accept she had her own life to live now.

One with many Tomorrows that he knew Guy could give her, there was no doubt the young man was going to give her the world on a silver platter. The thought of her leaving was like a knife in his heart, even Guy would be a tough bone to swallow, after all, Grug had called him son. And as a father, he only wanted what was best for them, even if it meant it wasn't here with him anymore.

Gran stomped her cane on the grass. "Who are you and what have you done with our Lunkhead?"

Grug grunted, "What? I'm not allowed to have a change of heart now?"

Ugga leaned her head against his fondly. "I'm proud of you, big guy."

Grug didn't want to get emotional, feeling the moisture gather in his eyes. Phil threw an arm over his shoulders on the side Ugga didn't occupy.

"Something on your mind, bro?" His eyes were sympathetic.

He sniffled, "Nothing, really." Grug shrugged Phil's arm off and sighed.

"You can tell me," Phil encouraged, lifting a hand in an encouraging manner.

"I don't wanna."

"I'm knocking on the door, big guy. Let me in!" He persisted.

Grug side eyed him, knowing no matter what he said the lanky Betterman was going to get his way. "It's just… gonna be hard to let them go," he said, the words slightly warbled. He was a big scary caveman but he'd always been soft in the heart despite the stoney exterior.

Gran scoffed, the old matriarch beginning to hobble away. "There's our Grug now. The big baby."

Phil patted him on the back, "There, there, it'll be alright. Besides, I have a solution to your little problem."

He looked uncertain as Phil led him away from the serene couple, the rest of the family following behind. "What do you mean 'solution'?"

"Let's just say it's a wedding present for our favorite pair of lovebirds, Gruggers. You can help me get it ready, they'll take one look at it and want to stay forever." Phil then fondly nudged his friend's back. "Just please learn to use doors, Guy won't be happy if you tear a hole in their little love nest. Knocking will save you a lot of grief too"

"Love nest?" Grug echoed and for a moment the protective father that wanted to smother his daughter peeked out.

Before he could regret his decision, it was a joint effort to shove him towards the large tree on the property, hefting a sigh and pouting as Ugga just laughed.

And oblivious to the world around them, Guy and Eep stayed stuck together, joint by the heart.

[twoidiotwriters1]

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

A/N: I think the second half of this book is my best work yet. I know I always say this and that’s bc I’m always getting better -Danny

Words: 4,073

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Twenty: St. Mungo's.

At five in the morning the mood hadn't changed much in the room, Fred had fallen asleep on her shoulder, George and Ginny were across, staring intently at some point on the wall, Ron kept his face hidden behind his hands.

Harry and Sirius would look around the room with a lost air, unsure of what their part in this whole thing was. Mel and her mother had the same worried expression, none of them was known to be patient, but they didn't have a choice, they were all waiting...

Mel was worried about Mr Weasley, but she was also worried about her uncle back in the castle, about Umbridge and how she'd react to the missing Gryffindor students... She was also worried about Erick, all alone and having to deal with the death of the man he'd admired his whole life.

That was all Mel could feel at its fullest lately, no happiness was lasting, no bliss was ever-present. Mel was in a constant state of worry and distress, part of it because of her own trauma, and because all around her there was simply no safe place where to hold on to.

Mrs Weasley came rushing through the door. Mel stared at the woman, trying to find any hints of the possible news. She didn't have to wait for long, though.

"He's going to be all right," The woman said. "He's sleeping. We can all go and see him later. Bill's sitting with him now, he's going to take the morning off work."

Fred sat back beside her with heaviness, Mel pulled him closer with one arm and hugged him sideways, George and Ginny stood up and hugged their mother tightly. Ron finished his butterbeer, his usual colour slowly going back to his face.

"Breakfast!" said Sirius, standing up with newfound energy. "Where's that accursed house-elf? Kreacher! KREACHER! Oh, forget it, then. So it's breakfast for — let's see — nine... Bacon and eggs, I think, and some tea, and toast —"

Harry got up swiftly and walked over to the stove, clearly wanting to be of use in a room where he felt he had no place to take. He was wrong. Mrs Weasley made her way to the boy and took the plates out of his hands, encasing him in a fierce hug.

"I don't know what would have happened if it hadn't been for you, Harry. They might not have found Arthur for hours, and then it would have been too late, but thanks to you he's alive and Dumbledore's been able to think up a good cover story for Arthur being where he was, you've no idea what trouble he would have been in otherwise, look at poor Sturgis..."

Before Harry had a chance to reply, she let him go and turned to Sirius and Emily.

"Oh, I'm so grateful... They think he'll be there a little while and it would be wonderful to be nearer... Of course, that might mean we're here for Christmas..."

"The more the merrier!" Sirius smiled openly at the woman. Emily nodded in agreement.

Mel knew Sirius loathed having to spend all his time inside the house, even with the company of Emily it surely was annoying, having nothing to do given the circumstances of his life.

"Sirius," Harry moved closer to the man and whispered something Mel couldn't quite hear.

Sirius gave the boy a funny look and followed him to the pantry. Mel felt the irresistible need to follow them as well, but she figured, whatever Harry wanted to talk about in private was not her business, not anymore. That much she'd said to him a few hours ago.

Fred stirred in his place and finally moved away from her grip, hastily cleaning his face before anyone could notice, Mel pretended not to see for his benefit.

"I'm going to help my mum with breakfast," She told him. "I'm happy your dad's well."

Fred nodded, half-listening to the girl. When she moved over to get something out of a shelf, she listened to Harry's voice coming from the little room next to her.

"Sirius, I... I think I'm going mad... Back in Dumbledore's office, just before we took the Portkey... for a couple of seconds there I thought I was a snake, I felt like one — my scar really hurt when I was looking at Dumbledore — Sirius, I wanted to attack him —"

"It must have been the aftermath of the vision, that's all. You were still thinking of the dream or whatever it was and —"

"It wasn't that. It was like something rose up inside me, like there's a snake inside me —"

Dumbledore's words felt heavier than before, if Harry was truly affected by some kind of dark magic... it reminded her when Ginny started to act strange, when she'd been...

"Possessed," Mel whispered.

The door to the pantry opened abruptly and Sirius walked out of it causing her to jump, Mel directed herself to the stove, doing her best to not look back to where she knew Harry was currently standing.

She listened to Ginny's slow breathing unable to fall asleep. Her mind was replaying every moment of the last few months after the third task, trying to see if there were any hints that could point to a possession.

Mel thought hard about every time she had touched the boy, which to be fair, wasn't that many. Harry was acting up more often, that much was true, but who wouldn't after the hell he'd been through? Everyone had a limit, and Harry's got surpassed by a wide difference.

She didn't want to think about this, but she couldn't ignore it, not when it could lead to some of her friends getting hurt. It wasn't that she didn't trust Harry, but once again, Ginny was absolutely trustworthy and yet she'd petrified Hermione without meaning to. It could've ended worse if it weren't because Hermione got the answer on time.

When it finally was time for lunch Mel followed everyone downstairs with very little energy. No one but Harry seemed to notice, and that only because he too hadn't slept. Mel was once again torn between her duty and her personal interests. On one side, she felt she owed to her uncle to pay close attention, but that meant staying as close as possible, and that was something she didn't want to do.

Maybe it wasn't about being close physically, maybe she just had to get closer to his head. That one she could do without having to spend time with him. Legilimency and Occlumency.

That afternoon they were meant to visit Mr Weasley, the trip could be useful, she could stand next to Harry and try to perceive if his energy had changed. It was hard work, and she couldn't fully trust in the little trick, but right now that was all she had.

An hour later and an awkward train ride with Tonks and Moody, she found herself entering 'ST. Mungo's hospital for magical maladies and injuries' through the glass of what appeared to be an abandoned department store.

The things Mel saw in the waiting room were certified to give her nightmares, or at least, very peculiar fever dreams. A group of wizards and witches were walking around the rows of people writing down things on clipboards and asking questions about their symptoms. Beside her, she heard Harry asked Ron if those were doctors.

"Doctors?" Ron asked in a tone of bewilderment. "Those Muggle nutters that cut people up? Nah, they're Healers."

"Hey, they're not nutters!" Mel argued. "Muggles can't heal each other magically, they had to find their own solutions..."

"Yeah, yeah," Ron rolled her eyes. "Look, mum's there!"

"Over here!" Mrs Weasley called from the line where she was standing.

Behind the desk, she saw the portrait of Dilys, the witch that was also inside Dumbledore's office. Mel timidly waved at her, the witch did a quick count to make sure all the Weasleys were there along with Harry and Mel and she discretely returned Mel's greeting, disappearing from her portrait right after that.

"It's these — ouch — shoes my brother gave me — ow!" A man at the front of the line caught her attention. "— they're eating my — OUCH — feet — look at them, there must be some kind of — AARGH — jinx on them and I can't — AAAAARGH — get them off —"

"The shoes don't prevent you reading, do they?" said the witch at the front desk. "You want Spell Damage, fourth floor. Just like it says on the floor guide. Next!"

Two more people went before them, one worried father holding a little girl by the ankle, with fluffy white wings coming out of her back, and one man that was there looking for a wizard that apparently was confused to the point he was sure he was a teapot.

"Hello," Mrs Weasley said when they arrived at the front. "My husband, Arthur Weasley, was supposed to be moved to a different ward this morning, could you tell us — ?"

"Arthur Weasley? Yes, first floor, second door on the right, Dai Llewellyn ward."

"Thank you. Come on, you lot."

They followed through the halls and Mel continued to look around curiously, she probably had a funny dreamy look on her face, because Ron nudged her side, smirking.

"What now, you're adding 'Healer' to the list of jobs you want when you grow up?"

Mel snorted.

"No! Didn't you see all the crazy things happening in the waiting room? I wouldn't get used to that! I'm afraid that even though I've spent years as a witch now, at heart I'm still a muggle."

"Give it time, Lady," George replied. "It's been like what, four years? You won't even remember your life without magic after a decade living like a witch."

For some reason, that made her feel slightly uncomfortable. She loved being a witch, but her muggle life wasn't something she wanted to forget, especially when it had been the best years of her friendship with Harry...

Why did her mind insist on bringing Harry to every discussion?

"We'll wait outside, Molly," Tonks said. "Arthur won't want too many visitors at once... It ought to be just the family first."

Harry and Mel immediately stepped back, but Mrs Weasley reached out to get Harry and the twins grabbed her by the arms, pulling her along.

"Don't be silly, Harry, Arthur wants to thank you..."

"And there's no way you're staying behind," Fred said playfully. "Dad would love to see her daughter-in-law..."

"If you keep saying that you'll end up believing it," Mel warned him.

"I bet my parents would rather have you as a daughter instead of this bad copy of me," George teased.

"Who are you calling a copy, you idiot?" Fred reached to hit his brother, but George hid behind her. "Everyone knows I'm more attractive than you!"

"You two stop fighting!" Mrs Weasley hissed. "This is a hospital room! Please act your age!"

The three of them stopped, trembling with contained laughter as they reached Mr Weasley's bed.

"Hello!" The man called happily. "Bill just left, Molly, had to get back to work, but he says he'll drop in on you later..."

"How are you, Arthur? You're still looking a bit peaky..."

"I feel absolutely fine, if they could only take the bandages off, I'd be fit to go home."

"Why can't they take them off, Dad?" asked Fred.

"Well, I start bleeding like mad every time they try," Mr Weasley reached for his wand, and with one wave he conjured a couple of chairs for them to sit on. "It seems there was some rather unusual kind of poison in that snake's fangs that keeps wounds open... They're sure they'll find an antidote, though, they say they've had much worse cases than mine, and in the meantime, I just have to keep taking a Blood-Replenishing Potion every hour. But that fellow over there," He lowered his voice and pointed to the man in front of them. "Bitten by a werewolf, poor chap. No cure at all."

"A werewolf?" Mrs Weasley turned to look at the man with wide eyes. "Is he safe in a public ward? Shouldn't he be in a private room?"

"It's two weeks till full moon. They've been talking to him this morning, the Healers, you know, trying to persuade him he'll be able to lead an almost normal life. I said to him — didn't mention names, of course — but I said I knew a werewolf personally, very nice man, who finds the condition quite easy to manage..."

"What did he say?" asked George.

"Said he'd give me another bite if I didn't shut up. And that woman over there won't tell the Healers what bit her, which makes us all think it must have been something she was handling illegally. Whatever it was took a real chunk out of her leg, very nasty smell when they take off the dressings."

Mel's eyes stayed on the man laying ahead of them. The newborn werewolf, a man who was probably completely fine before being bitten. Was it really two weeks before the full moon? That wasn't ideal, she wanted to see her uncle, she was missing him lots already, and having half a week wasted because of his condition made her feel terribly for him.

"So, you going to tell us what happened, Dad?" asked Fred.

"Well, you already know, don't you? It's very simple — I'd had a very long day, dozed off, got sneaked up on, and bitten."

"Is it in the Prophet, you being attacked?" asked Fred.

"No, of course not, the Ministry wouldn't want everyone to know a dirty great serpent got —"

"Arthur!" said Mrs Weasley.

"— got — er — me," Mr Weasley finished.

"So where were you when it happened, Dad?" asked George.

"That's my business," said Mr Weasley calmly, "I was just reading about Willy Widdershins's arrest when you arrived. You know Willy turned out to be behind those regurgitating toilets last summer? One of his jinxes backfired, the toilet exploded, and they found him lying unconscious in the wreckage covered from head to foot in —"

"When you say you were 'on duty,'" Fred interrupted in a low voice, "what were you doing?"

"You heard your father," Mrs Weasley hissed, "we are not discussing this here! Go on about Willy Widdershins, Arthur —"

"Well, don't ask me how, but he actually got off on the toilet charge. I can only suppose gold changed hands —"

"You were guarding it, weren't you?" said George eagerly. "The weapon? The thing You-Know-Who's after?"

"George, be quiet!"

"Anyway," Mr Weasley continued like he hadn't been interrupted, "this time Willy's been caught selling biting doorknobs to Muggles, and I don't think he'll be able to worm his way out of it because according to this article, two Muggles have lost fingers and are now in St. Mungo's for emergency bone regrowth and memory modification. Just think of it, Muggles in St. Mungo's! I wonder which ward they're in?"

"Didn't you say You-Know-Who's got a snake, Harry?" asked Fred, glancing at his father anxiously. "A massive one? You saw it the night he returned, didn't you?"

"There's no need to talk about that night," Mel said roughly. The tone she used was enough to quiet the twin, but Mrs Weasley added more to it.

"That's enough! Mad-Eye and Tonks are outside, Arthur, they want to come and see you. And you lot can wait outside. You can come and say good-bye afterwards. Go on..."

Mel stood up and wished Mr Weasley as fast recovery, then she followed the rest of her friends back outside. Moody and Tonks went in, Fred spoke up.

"Fine, be like that. Don't tell us anything."

"Looking for these?" said George, holding out the extendable ears.

"You read my mind," Fred grinned. "Let's see if St. Mungo's puts Imperturbable Charms on its ward doors, shall we?"

They gave everyone an extendable ear, Harry's hand stopped midway, hesitant to follow through.

"Go on, Harry, take it! You saved Dad's life, if anyone's got the right to eavesdrop on him it's you..." George insisted.

"Okay, go!" Fred whispered once they were all seated.

"...they searched the whole area but they couldn't find the snake anywhere," She heard Tonks voice, "it just seems to have vanished after it attacked you, Arthur... But You-Know-Who can't have expected a snake to get in, can he?"

"I reckon he sent it as a lookout," Moody replied, " 'cause he's not had any luck so far, has he? No, I reckon he's trying to get a clearer picture of what he's facing and if Arthur hadn't been there the beast would've had much more time to look around. So Potter says he saw it all happen?"

"Yes," said Mrs Weasley. "You know, Dumbledore seems almost to have been waiting for Harry to see something like this..."

"Yeah, well," said Moody, "there's something funny about the Potter kid, we all know that."

"Dumbledore seemed worried about Harry when I spoke to him this morning," whispered Mrs Weasley. "He said Mel used legilimency and found nothing unusual, but he's not so sure."

"Legilimency?" Moody said in a tone of mild surprise. "A fifteen-year-old having control over that kind of magic? No wonder why You-Know-Who wants her on his side!"

Mel gasped and Ron was quick to cover her mouth. So that was it then, Voldemort didn't want to kill her, he wanted to use her.

"...The boy's seeing things from inside You-Know-Who's snake... Obviously, Potter doesn't realize what that means, but if You-Know-Who's possessing him —"

Harry jumped back, dropping the extendable ear and looking at his friends with wide eyes. Mel kept her gaze fixed on the door.

She wanted nothing else than to follow Harry's lead and hide in her room for the rest of the day, but as soon as she set a foot on the entrance hall, Ron caught her wrist and pulled her towards the twins' room, quickly followed by the rest of the young Weasleys.

"What?" She asked, though she already knew.

"You know what's going on," Ron said. "You knew Harry was ill before Neville had left the room, and you knew Umbridge was hurting him. Not only that, but you had the same bruises as Harry on the back of your hand!"

"How..?"

"Hermione saw it one day while you were still asleep," Ron confessed. "You have to tell us what's going on."

"I don't have the answers," She said tensely. "I can't tell if what they're saying it's true, I don't know if Harry's possessed."

"But you can tell other things, can't you?" Her friend insisted. "Last June, you had the same injuries as him in your arm, only that yours were bruises..."

She looked at the twins and Ginny, they were all staring at her. Now was as good as any other day, Harry didn't care about her telling them, but she had to be careful. Mel sat down on Fred's bed and told them everything.

Well, not everything. She began her story on the night of the third task, when the thin wall dividing her lifeline from Harry's broke apart. It was simple, really. They had been through so many near-death experiences together that the magic in their souls had merged, creating their strange connection.

Dumbledore had called it survival instincts, Harry's mind would look for her whenever he felt in danger, whether he wanted to or not. Not only that, but they were able to lend a bit of vital energy to each other if they were lacking some in a crucial moment.

The Weasleys listened with their mouths wide open, Ginny kept biting her nails, Ron looked awfully confused and would look at her and then the floor as if he could see Harry through it.

"That's why we fought," She said. "Harry doesn't want to force me to feel his pain. He thought that distance would help but I don't think we'll ever go back to normal. It didn't use to be this strong but ever since he fought Voldemort I feel more things now... I see more."

"But..." Ron frowned, trying to gather his thoughts. "But it's not you in his body, right? Or Harry in your body?"

"No..." Mel hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. "I stay in my body and he stays in his. I just... it's like dreaming. You feel things, but as soon as you wake up, it goes away."

"But you've been hurt before," Fred frowned. "Ron said it just now, you get bruises, and last night when we got here, your nose was bleeding—"

"Those were my fault—" She started, but Fred shook his head in disbelief.

"How's that your fault?"

"The bruises happened because I didn't ground myself," Mel said. "Harry was going through a lot... he was dying. I had to give in a little so he could come back. I had to let him take whatever he needed..."

Her friends gave her eery looks, she let out a tired sigh.

"I know how it sounds, but I promise this is not hurting me more than it hurts him. This thing goes both ways, if I were the one hurting, Harry would feel everything. He... he would've done the same for me. You know he would."

No one talked against her, still, Ron had lots of questions.

"What about last night?"

"Last night," Mel look down, fidgeting at the idea of having felt something else than just Harry, but not wanting to scare her friends. "I was weak– I used legilimency for the first time, it drained me. I couldn't push Harry's feelings away, I just buried them inside. Which was a mistake."

"What does that mean?" Ginny asked. "If... if it turns out he's possessed, what will that do to you?"

"He can't be," Mel sentenced, but her voice broke at the end.

"Have you felt anything strange?"

"I just feel Harry, even if he were struggling with something, I doubt I'd feel it. I only feel the things that belong to his soul."

"I don't get it," George frowned. "You saved his life last June and he blames you for the connection?"

"He doesn't blame her," Ginny rolled her eyes. "Harry's scared for her. You'd be terrified too if your best friend gets hurt every time you do. Harry probably freaked out when he found out he'd taken a bit of Mel's life. That sounds awful... But he would've done the same for you, and it was your choice anyway, I think you were brave for doing so."

"Maybe if you talk to Harry he'll understand," Ron offered.

Mel let out a bitter laugh.

"I've tried. As soon as he told me his idea— I've tried to tell him that this is not his fault. The best we can do is just ignore it and try to live normal lives."

"I don't think it'll fix it," Fred replied. "Things don't usually go away like that."

" I'm not saying I'll ignore it if he's in danger, you saw it last night, I was the first to arrive and help him. I like my new life, I like having more friends and I can't help but think that maybe..."

She stopped before saying 'I don't need him anymore', realizing it was something horrible to say.

"Maybe what?" Ron asked sharply, probably guessing what she wanted to say.

"Maybe it's time I stop treating Harry like a child and let him deal with this on his own. He keeps saying he can do it, so maybe I should listen."

"What if he can't, though?" Ginny asked. "What if they're right and... and he's..."

Mel got up. "I'm tired... can we please leave it?"

"But—"

"Sure," Fred stood up as well. "C'mon, we should help mum and Emily downstairs."

He shared one significant look with Mel, she wondered if he'd gotten a new revelation with this. Maybe he understood there was more to their agreement than just her wanting to get over a crush.

It was about wanting to escape from the constant reminder of being tied to someone against her will, someone who didn't want her around.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world​ @just-here-to-escape-from-reality​ @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual

[ushijimaenthusiast]

a smol iwasemi for iwas bday! semi pretends iwa is his bc to make another dude back off but it fails

[ao3]

Hajime considers himself a patient man.

He’s been best friends with Oikawa since they were kids, so he’s used to his flamboyant, eccentric, egotistical personality getting them into all sorts of shit whenever they’re together, but lately, it seems as though something is throwing Oikawa out of whack, and it’s driving Hajime crazy.

Like tonight: instead of serving Hajime the beer he asked for five minutes ago, Oikawa is standing a foot away from a couple further down the bar pretending to polish a glass as he eavesdrops on the sleazy guy spew disgusting pick-up lines on the clearly uninterested girl. He knows Oikawa is paying attention because he’s seen some horrible things happen while working behind the counter, but Hajime can plainly tell that the woman would be able to handle herself no matter what happened. Even Hajime wouldn’t approach her unless prompted.

Normally Hajime wouldn’t mind Oikawa being so observant of something that has the potential to be dangerous; he’d commend his friend instead of criticizing him. But tonight was supposed to be about him.

It’s his birthday! He was supposed to have a fun night out with his best friend while the two did something exciting and chaotic and stupid, not spend the night on his usual barstool watching as his best friend works.

Hajime knows he’s fine with Oikawa working this evening. He’s fine with them not having a weekend off together for the foreseeable future and he’s even fine with the fact that he’s once again at this stupid bar nursing a drink as a single topic of conversation is dragged out over twenty minutes because Oikawa keeps getting pulled away to serve other customers.

It’s fine.

Hajime also knows he’s allowed to be a little bitter over it all, and he’s fine with that, too.

After another handful of minutes have passed and Oikawa still hasn’t moved from his spot despite the woman leaving, Hajime decides to throw caution to the wind and reach over the counter to grab the closest thing he can. He’s not scared about repercussions since Oikawa’s brother is the owner and likes him more than he likes Oikawa.

Just as he stands and plants his chest against the counter to see what he can find, something bumps into him and has the edge digging sharply into his stomach, followed by something wet landing on his shoulder.

“Hey!” he coughs out, pushing off from the counter and spinning around to chew out whoever bumped into him, only to have the words die in his throat.

Hajime’s been around Oikawa too long to really ever be interested in pretty guys, but the man pressed up against him throws everything out the window. From his dip-dyed ashy blond hair curling softly around his ears, his narrowed eyes darkened with smeared eyeliner, his sneering lips glinting with something silver. Hajime is captivated by the expression that’s not directed at him, and it takes a moment for what’s happening to catch up with him.

There’s another man standing next to them, taller and bigger than Hajime and it has him leaning away, wondering what the hell is going on. He’s scowling and wiping liquid off his face, probably the remnants from the glass in Pretty Boy’s hand.

“And I told you it was none of your business! It doesn't matter what’s in my pants, no still means no you dipshit.”

God, even his voice is pretty. Hajime feels himself start to smile a little, wanting to hear more of it despite the hostility, but is forced back when the intruder leans in and Pretty Boy pushes him further into the counter.

He starts to open his mouth, but Pretty Boy interrupts, “If you don’t back off I’ll have my boyfriend kick the shit out of you.”

Hajime’s sure his eyebrows meet his hairline. And then disappear completely when Pretty Boy wraps his arm around Hajime’s waist.

The intruder stares Hajime up and down, sizing him up and thinking if he’d win a fight, but all Hajime can focus on is the warmth now pressed all against his left side, wondering if he should return the gesture and play along or politely back off, not wanting to get in the middle of this feud.

The longer he’s silent, the more the arm around him tightens and the more the intruder starts to sneer and puff out his chest, shoulders squaring back and head tilting him. Hajime suddenly doesn’t remember how to block a punch.

“If you throw one punch at my best friend I’ll shove this bottle so far up your ass they’ll have to break your rib cage to dig it out.”

They all turn to stare at Oikawa who’s brandishing a still-full bottle of Smirnoff as he glares at the intruder, his lips twisted up into a dangerous smirk. It’s a look Hajime has seen too many times to count and knows what’s about to happen.

He spins out of Pretty Boy’s arms and leans across the counter to whisper-shout at Oikawa. “If you get into another fight you’re gonna get fired, brother or not.”

Oikawa doesn’t take his eyes off the intruder, nor does he keep his voice low. “You underestimate my persuasion skills over my brother. Now, Mr. Neanderthal,” he directs at the intruder, “this isn’t the first time I’ve seen you push yourself onto nice people, so I’m only gonna ask you once. Leave my bar, or I’ll kick your ass.”

One glance over his shoulder at the intruder and Hajime knows what’s going to happen next. He knows his best friend enough that he will literally follow up with his threat, and Hajime has a second to decide if he needs to continue to intervene or just steer Pretty Boy out of harm’s way until everything’s over.

What Hajime did not expect was to end up in urgent care, the blond sitting next to him with one hand rubbing circles on his back and the other holding Hajime’s.

The cab ride had been a little blurry, Hajime more focused on the blood seeping from his scalp and the hands pushing him out the bar than what was really going on, Oikawa’s laughter trailing after them like a maniacal echo.

Pretty Boy took charge and Hajime let him, not paying much attention to anything except the tone of the man’s voice.

By the time they get to the urgent care, Hajime’s head is killing him and it seems as if the blood has slowed down, if it was even that bad to begin with. Pretty Boy does most of the paperwork, even going so far as to dig out Hajime’s wallet and search for an insurance card. Hajime keeps a close eye on him then, but Pretty Boy doesn’t even try to touch his cash or credit cards.

He sits with Hajime through the hour-long wait and through the twenty-minute doctor visit, detailing the events leading up to the visit as the doctor pulls shards of glass from Hajime’s scalp. He doesn’t need stitches, which is great, and he doesn’t have a concussion, which is even better. The news has Pretty Boy sighing in relief, throwing Hajime a beautiful tiny smile.

Hajime expects them to part ways after the exam, but Pretty Boy directs him to the nearest diner, and it’s not until they’re collapsing into a booth that Hajime realizes he’s exhausted, but can admit that it was nice being babied for a while.

He even tells Pretty Boy that, and it earns him a small laugh that has Hajime swooning. He wipes at his eyes, smearing his already smudged eyeliner, but it just adds another level of intrigue to him that has Hajime leaning further over the table as they start to talk.

The man’s name is Semi Eita, and by the time their drinks arrive, Hajime thinks he’s a little bit in love.

“It’s not the first night I’ve seen you there, ya know,” Semi says after the waiter brings their meals. He grabs a fry and points it at Hajime before plopping it into his mouth. Hajime’s eyes track the movement, catching another glint of silver on Semi’s tongue that’s quickly hidden behind pink lips. He almost can’t take his eyes off Semi’s lips, following the curve of the cupid’s bow and trailing along the edge until he’s met with the spiral piercing curving at the bottom corner of his mouth. It’s captivating, and Hajime finds it hard to focus whenever it moves.

A fry hits him in the face, startling Hajime back into his seat. Semi gives him a curious look before his lips stretch in a grin that he tries to duck and hide.

His earlier words catch up with Hajime. “Why haven’t you approached me before then?”

Semi shrugs, not meeting Hajime’s eyes. He plops another fry into his mouth and takes a moment to answer. “I kind of thought you were with that bartender since I see you talkin’ with him all the time. Or you were straight since I’ve only seen you with girls hanging off your arm.”

Hajime snorts at that, quickly shaking the image of him and Oikawa out of his head. “I might swing for the right girl, but uh, I’m pretty gay. A lot of them pull a stunt like you did tonight, and I go with it because there are some sleazy assholes out there. And Oikawa’s my best friend. He’s more like an annoying brother I wish I could auction off for all the trouble he’s caused me.”

Semi winces at the jab, but Hajime continues, smiling. “He couldn’t get the night off, so I figured it’d be better to spend my birthday at the bar instead of home alone, even though he still ignored me all night because he was working.” Hajime rubs at his eyes, suddenly realizing how pathetic his idea for the evening was.

Semi hisses, and when Hajime peeks through his fingers at the other man, he catches a look of pity. “And I went and made everything worse for you.”

Hajime shakes his head, lowering his hands and offering a hopefully charming smile.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty happy with how my evening is going.”

Semi’s eyes widen, and the very top of his cheeks flush. Hajime finds it absolutely adorable.

“Even though you got into a bar fight because of a total stranger and ended up in urgent care because someone broke a bottle over your skull?”

Hajime laughs, nods.

“I met a really pretty guy who’s interested in me and took care of me. I’m interested in him too, and I’m hoping this night ends with me getting his number and a plan for a second date.”

Hajime watches as Semi's cheeks darken, and the very tip of his nose starts to pinken. Hajime wants to lean over the table and kiss him.

“Well shit,” Semi coughs, obviously flustered. Hajime grins even wider, finally giving in enough to reach out and gently grasp one of Semi’s hands, tangling their fingers together to reassure him. Hajime’s sure that despite the alt look, Semi might be on the softer side.

Hajime can’t wait to get to know Semi Eita, can’t wait to find out a million mundane things about the man who started a fight just so he could get to know Hajime. Maybe it’s a little weird or unorthodox, but it’s also something new and exciting. It’s the beginning of something that Hajime is actually looking forward to, and if the pleased and longing look in Semi’s eyes is anything to go by, it’s safe to say the other man is excited too.

Hajime’s glad he’s a patient man, because he hopes this will take a while.

[songfell-ut]

Chapter 2, bc this is happening

Yo. I’m charging ahead on this project because I’m a terrible mother and my kid is getting a lot of (educational) screen time during the day while my husband works from home and I get this written. It remains based on this comic by @lostmypotatoes​. It’s so long that I split off the end and it’s mutating into Chapter 3. Lots of talking, with Stuff to come of it very soon, no worries.

Now featuring a cut! Thanks (what’s an easy nickname for you? “Lost”? “‘Tatoes?”) for the tip on how to very easily do that.

Lastly, I have login shenanigans to deal with, and have been chatting with Lost (?) using @ikustioa on my phone, so I suppose that’s my blogging/personal handle now. Anyway, here we go:

~

Three nights later, Sans woke with a jerk. Someone in the next room was sobbing. It wasn't a memory or nightmare, he realized a moment later, and it wasn't the priestess; it was a small child, crying so hard that it could barely breathe. Steeling himself, the boss monster slid out of bed and listened intently.

He heard a woman whisper something, and the child's sobs quieted as a familiar sound came through the door. It was the same humming that had de-powered his blaster the other day, though not the same tune. The skeleton took a moment to be sure that the glow in his eyes was out, then cracked the bedroom door open.

Frisk was kneeling, bare-headed, with her arms around a little boy of perhaps eight or nine years. In the light of one lamp on the worktable, Sans saw a dark patch of blood in the child's hair. Frisk glanced at the skeleton, giving him a wan smile, still humming. Sans closed the door enough that the child wouldn't see him.

The priestess waited till the boy had calmed down to the occasional sniffle, then leaned back and reached for something on the table. "I've got a treat for you," she said cheerfully. "Do you like peppermint?"

The child thought it over, and nodded.

"Wonderful, because that's exactly what this is. You'll feel better in no time." She held out a glass bottle. "You can have three big swallows, but only three, all right?"

Well played, Sans thought, framing it as something he got to have, not something he had to take. Sure enough, the little boy gulped it right down, smacking his lips as the young woman retrieved the bottle. "Good. Can you do something very important for me?" she asked. Nod, nod. "Can you lie down and count to one hundred? That'll make the magic work better. Let's go to my office."

The child went with her quite willingly. After a few minutes, the High Priestess re-emerged into Sans' field of vision. Her pleasant expression was gone, replaced with one that actually made him feel a little sorry for whoever had pissed her off. Then he remembered the blood on the kid's head. "Anybody you want me ta kill?" he asked through the door.

"Don't tempt me." Frisk jerked a sheet of paper from a stack on the desk, grabbed a pen, and began writing rapidly.

Sans checked the time. "God damn, what's that kid doing awake at two in the morning?"

"Being beaten." The pen scratched viciously across the page.

He decided to shut up. Frisk soon finished the message, blew the ink dry and folded the paper in thirds, then sealed it and marched to the outer door, where she woke up the guard on duty. Sans heard her reaming the guy about doing his job properly, serving a writ, and not letting a guy out of the castle. She came back in, only to return to the office.

This seemed to be typical for her, as far as Sans could tell, though it usually wasn't this dramatic or this late at night. If she wasn't off at church or giving him lessons, she was talking to someone who needed help and apparently couldn't get it elsewhere. He had yet to see her do something for fun, or sleep more than five hours at a time.

Meanwhile, his daily routine had been surprisingly low-key. The first day, after being flagrantly mind-controlled into agreeing to stay, he'd eaten some more, then slept for another dreamless twenty-four hours. The next morning, she'd let him have another pile of food, then started his apprenticeship by showing him the most common ingredients for potions and how to identify them by sight, as he couldn't smell and didn't have much sense of touch. Yesterday had been a review, emphasizing that a mistake could literally kill someone, and she'd given him a book of basic recipes, asking him to make a list of any ingredients he found that she hadn't already introduced.

It was kind of annoying to have homework, and he was starting to get cabin fever, but otherwise, the whole experience hadn't been too terrible. He was relieved and disappointed that she kept the veil on almost all the time, which reduced the distraction somewhat, though she persisted in having a fantastic shape, and he was really starting to enjoy the sound of her voice. When he could focus enough to ask questions, she was patient and encouraging, and let him use all the paper he wanted to write down the answers. She was obviously pleased that he cared enough to take notes, though not in a smug or irritating way; it just made her happy, and that made him...not unhappy.

It was also still novel to talk to a human who wasn't afraid of him. He hadn't seen many humans up here besides the little boy, and figured they were forbidden to come into her rooms unless they desperately needed help, or could sneak past a sleeping guard. That was fine with Sans, though he'd overheard one cleaning lady being so persistent that he really wanted to come out of the bedroom and tell her to piss off. Unsurprisingly, Frisk had asked him to not do that.

There were only a few real mysteries so far. One was a pile of letters she'd brought in on the second day and tossed into a basket of also-unopened envelopes standing by the roaring fireplace in her workshop. He'd caught her looking at the basket a couple of times, as if debating whether to burn them all, but she never did it, or opened any in front of him.

The biggest question was how she knew he could teleport, and the nature of his blue magic, even if was getting more red than blue these days. He had unthinkingly used the latter to grab a couple things yesterday, and his magic had almost immediately died out. He didn't know exactly how she was doing it, but her barriers weren't just blocking him in: they kept his power so muted that he couldn't have summoned a single bone. It seemed that he'd be allowed to use some magic to make the actual potions, and that was it.

Well, there was time to worry about that later. The injured kid had made him think of Kris again, which made him think of the book passage Frisk had quoted at him. He'd have to ask if she...wait, no, he didn't have to ask. She'd given him carte blanche to read anything he found in her bedroom or workshop. Sans tapped the nearest witchlight on, noting that it was much weaker than the ones Underground, and started perusing the shelves.

Fifteen minutes later, Frisk knocked on the door, waiting for him to grunt acknowledgement before she came in. "I'm sorry for waking you," she said, dropping into her chair with a deep sigh. "There's going to be hell to pay in the morning."

She did look like hell, with bags under her eyes and a smear of blood on her cheek. Sans put the book down and tapped his own face, and she got the hint, rubbing her cheek with the back of her hand. "Ugh. That poor child." She sighed again, curling up and resting her head on the arm of the chair. "I'll wash up in a minute."

"Didn't you just get back from a thing?" he asked, wondering if she was always this cavalier about bodily fluids.

"Yes. His Holiness decided we needed more midnight services, and I have to be there every other night." She rubbed her eyes. "Flynn must have followed me back here. People aren't supposed to know where I live, but word is spreading. At this rate, I'll have to move again."

Sans drummed his fingertips on the bedpost. She'd found an oversized stool to use in the workshop, but there were no armchairs big enough for him, so he spent most of his leisure time on the bed. "Bein' High Priestess sucks. How long ya been at it?"

"Three years. The last Thea was assassinated, and they had to find a replacement as fast as possible. Out of all the minor priestesses available, I was the only one who passed all the tests. It's been...instructive."

"Hm." That didn't surprise him. A human strong enough to block a boss monster's focused attack had to be pretty rare. "How old are ya, anyway?" he asked, suddenly curious.

Her eyes shut. "Twenty-two. I was educated in a convent, ordained at sixeen, High Priestess at nineteen." A mighty yawn was partly hidden in her arm. "Lucky me."

Sans didn't know much about humans, but he was pretty sure that was young as hell for so much responsibility. The problem was that she was good enough to handle it, which meant they'd pile on more and more until she went nuts. "Nah, it sucks ta be you. Any way you can get out of it?"

"Well," she mumbled, eyes still closed, "I can die, or marry, or go back to the convent and become the Mother Superior, which would also be until I die." Frisk yawned again. "The Feast of All Saints is next week. That's when the last High Priestess was murdered."

Something prickled up Sans' spine. "You spend all yer time doin' church stuff, kissing babies and healin' puppies or whatever. Why the hell would anyone wanna kill you?"

"I meant it when I said I have influence in the Church and at court. I don't hate monsters, which is inconvenient for several people, and I'm not quiet about it, which is extremely inconvenient for many more of them. Besides, my natural father is very wealthy, and his other childr—"

"'Natural' father?" he queried. "What, do some humans have unnatural kids?"

Her eyes opened. She looked lovely in the soft light, but troubled and sad, so much that he wished he hadn't asked. "I'm illegitimate. My father never married my mother, and our life was...bad. Very hard, for a very long time." The priestess rubbed her fingertips together, as if seeing more dried blood. "He was a very busy man, but he only has one legitimate heir. After his second wife died, he started tracking down his children born out of wedlock, and it's an open secret that he'll leave each of us a large amount after he passes."

"And whoever's left gets a bigger piece of the pie?" Sans guessed.

"Exactly. As far as I know, there were fourteen or fifteen of us, but magic runs in his side of the family, and most of his children became sorcerers. Almost all of my half-brothers have been killed fighting monsters. Two of my half-sisters blew up in an experiment that went wrong. There are only six of us left, including the—his heir."

Sans' eyes narrowed. "What is it with humans an' explodin' stuff by accident?"

He couldn't read the look on her face. "If we knew the answer to that, history would have taken a much better course."

Of course, that made him think of Kris again. It seemed pretty inevitable, so he might as well ask... "I don't s'pose," he mumbled, "there's a record of the humans who went t'the Underground on that last trip? Maybe what happened to 'em after they got back?"

Frisk raised her head a little. "That depends. We know exactly which nobles, sorcerers, and other dignitaries attended. Do you mean one of them?"

"Nah, this was a servant, I think. Prob'ly. I dunno." The skeleton felt his eyes lighting up again. "He was only 4 or 5. S'comin' up on thirteen years ago, so he'd'a grown up by now."

The priestess frowned. "No one that young was in attendance, so far as I know, and I've read every account that I could find. May I ask why you want to know?"

"Nah." Sans flexed his hand around the bedpost. "Forget it."

Frisk sighed, carving a design into the plush chair with her thumbnail. "Well, I'm afraid the answer is no. There's no record of the servants who came along, except the ones who were killed, and that didn't include any children. You'd have to check with each of the—" She sat up. "Wait. I know someone who was there—my mother. Do you want me to ask her?"

"Hell yes, I do!" Sans' hand tightened, splintering the bedpost. He guiltily released it. "Did she talk much about it? What all did she tell ya? Can I ask 'er a coupla things?"

The priestess laughed, quieting him with a wave of her hand. "Sans, please! She's been very sick recently, and I don't want to excite her too much. I will ask her anything you need to know, thank you. And yes, she talked about it to anyone who'd listen. She's the one who told me all about monsters, and what you're actually like."

Sans sat forward, but she forestalled more questions with another gesture. "First, her name is Rosa. Did you ever meet her?"

It did sound familiar. "I think so. Little, blonde, wore her hair up?"

"That's her. She would've been in charge of any children they brought along, but she never mentioned any of them to me." Frisk tapped her finger on the chair arm. "She did say there were things she wasn't allowed to talk about. She worked for the Duke as a nurse, and she would never disobey him."

He wondered for a moment if that meant the guy was Frisk's father, but was too excited to dwell on it. "What'd she say about us?" he asked curiously.

Frisk hesitated. "Well...she didn't talk very much with individual monsters, but she said the Queen was very kind and made sure to tell each of the humans how glad she was to have them visit. The King was also very courteous. He tried his best not to frighten anyone, and he thought it was rude that the servants weren't allowed to eat with the nobles."

Sans' foot started tapping. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he reluctantly stopped. "Who else?" he demanded.

The next moment, they both heard the office door open into the workshop. "Miss?" came a plaintive voice.

Frisk was at the bedroom door in an instant. "What is it, Flynn?" She closed the door most of the way.

Damn it all to hell. Sans grumpily listened to the child explain that he'd scratched his head and sorry, there was blood on the couch now. Frisk explained that wounds got itchy as they healed, and to please not scratch it, and that it would be much better to wipe his hands on the towel she'd put down than on the furniture. Then he had to be cleaned up again and a bigger bandage applied, and someone was sent for to take the boy somewhere he could sleep safely.

A thought stabbed at him as he listened to the proceedings: that was how she knew he could teleport and zip things around without touching them. King Asgore had insisted the monsters show off their powers in various amusing ways so that the humans would be less afraid of their magic. Sans thought it was a bad idea at the time, and look what came of it!

Frisk eventually came back to the bedroom, drying her hands on her skirt. "Let's cut t'the chase," Sans said quietly as she sat down. "Did she tell ya about any skeletons?"

"Yes." Frisk folded her hands and looked straight at him. "Two brothers, Sans and Papyrus."

Sans laced his fingers together to avoid accidentally destroying anything else. "And...?"

"She liked them very much," Frisk said calmly, "especially Papyrus. Sans was friendly, but she said he watched their every move, and it made them nervous." The priestess smoothed her skirt over her knees. "Papyrus was a joy to be around. He was very full of himself, but there wasn't a mean bone in his body, and he considered it his duty to welcome the humans as much as possible. My mother talked about him more than any other monster." She coughed. "Apparently, his spaghetti was terrible."

"...Sounds about right."

Frisk looked at him sharply. "I wanted to ask you about that, but...are you all right?"

Sans couldn't answer. He'd avoided thinking too much about home, especially the fact that he'd already been gone for a week when he got caught. It'd been easy to tell himself that he could always bust out of here if he needed to, or that the lady would let him send a message or even go have a quick visit before coming back here, but...

"Are you Papyrus' brother?" Frisk asked.

"Yeah," he ground out.

The priestess shook her head. "I don't understand. R—Mother said that Sans was shorter than any of the humans who came to the Underground, and the only boss monsters mentioned in the official histories are Asgore and Toriel. Can you tell me what happened? I wasn't sure if you were the same skeleton, you seem so diff—"

"A lot of shit happened, that's what." Sans lurched to his feet, and she had to tip her head back to look up at him. His sockets were glowing again. "Ya know what? I'm tired, an' you look like crap. Time for night-night." He jerked the door open, rattling the hinges. "Good luck cleanin' up. Blood's a bitch to get out. Trust me, I know."

She rose quietly, folding her hands in the style he recognized from the very first time he'd seen her. "All right, then. Good night, Sans," she said, and walked past him, out of the room.

He didn't slam the doors shut behind her, but it was pretty close.

~

Once she had control of herself again, Frisk wiped her eyes and resumed scrubbing the couch. She kept glancing underneath it, and as she threw yet another towel into the laundry basket, she decided, To hell with it, and pulled the couch aside. A nearly invisible seam in the floor showed where a board could be pried up to access her hidden safe. There was no lid, no lock, and no key, just a solid golden film that vanished when she pressed her thumb into its center.

The High Priestess surveyed the contents: several tight-folded papers, a bag of high-value dinar, a sack of silver ingots, a few pieces of jewelry, and a small box. She selected the box and removed its rosewood lid to reveal a tiny glass orb, something swirling around on its surface like smoke. She stared at it for so long that her knees began aching, but she didn't notice. Her vision blurred again, and she jammed the lid back on the little box, shoving everything back into the safe, re-sealing it, thumping the floorboard into place and pushing the couch back. Not today, she told herself fiercely. She didn't care what Sans said or how he acted. It couldn't be worth it. Nothing could!

~

The next day, after a late breakfast, Frisk quizzed him on the differences between various herbs and powdered animal bits and their uses; they looked over the list he'd made of new ingredients, going through the recipes and identifying how each item worked in each potion. That was the first time she demonstrated how to mix and infuse something, and the first time she warned him, "You have to be careful how you feel when you make potions. Intent is always important when you're using magic—you fully intend to cause damage, and I fully intend to protect, which is why we're good at what we do, yes?"

He shrugged philosophically, and she half-smiled. "Well," she continued, "it's similar when you're making something for someone else to take. If you're in a foul mood and you want to cause harm, or you simply don't want the person to get better, you might as well be concocting poison, or giving them water. Of course, your feelings don't matter if you're just throwing herbs into a pot, but these work as well as they do because you're putting a tiny bit of yourself into it. You have to make sure that it's a good bit."

"Pretty sure all my bits are bad by now," Sans remarked. "How's about I make some poison instead?"

Frisk shook her head, leaning over the table. "No one is all bad, Sans. Here." She took the glass stirrer out of the miniature cauldron bubbling away in the middle of their workspace. "I'll infuse it now. Watch."

He did observe closely as she bent forward, though probably not the way she'd intended; he just made sure he was looking at the potion when she glanced up at him. "Try thinking of someone you care for, and imagine it's for them." She opened her hand over the cauldron and, to his surprise, let out a low whistle, piercingly sweet.

A mote of light drifted from her palm and settled into the mixture. It seemed to sparkle for a moment, then resumed being a potion. When he concentrated, though, he could feel a little tingle of magic in it. "I won't ask you to try it till you have better control of your emotions," she said. "Right now, you're so angry that I don't know what would happen."

A different note had crept into her voice. Sans shifted his bony weight on the stool. "S'not like I can help it."

"Perhaps," she said. "You probably don't even notice it anymore. It's become a part of you, through whatever stuff has happened since the humans left the Underground. And before you ask, my mother is ill again. We can't speak with her until she's better."

There it was; he'd wondered if she was going to pretend he'd never snapped at her. "Well, you can only ask me so many personal questions before I get touchy, lady. Frisk." He tapped the worktable a couple of times. "Look, I know ya have a lot on yer plate, an' havin' to deal with me isn't much help. I just want t'know...is there any way to tell the others I'm not dead or somethin'? My brother's gotta be out of his mind by now, and I don' want someone comin' after me and gettin' caught."

Frisk shook her head, and his SOUL sank to the floor. "I'm sorry, Sans, but that's out of the question," she said, soft but firm. "Our King has forbidden any humans from coming within a day's walk of the entrance to the Underground, and let's be very honest—what would happen if a human came up to you out of nowhere and said they had an important message to give the monsters?"

Sans' jaw clenched so hard that the priestess put her hand out, not quite touching his arm. "Sans, please. If there was any way to—"

"Forget it, okay? Just...never mind." The skeleton glared at the windows facing out from the workroom. Like everything else in this damn place, they were too small for him to fit more than his head through. He'd gone through this in his own mind a dozen times: even if he could break through the wood and stone, he could sense the barrier set behind the wall to block his shortcuts. The one along the outside wall was heavier than the ones in the bedroom, which were permeable, purely there to track his movements. It was debatable whether this one could be physically broken with...something, but the moment he tried, she would know he was trying and stop him with a stronger barrier.

Hmm. What if...what if he waited till she wasn't here and couldn't get back in time to stop him? If he broke through when she was distracted, and far enough away – say, doing her church stuff in the middle of the night – then there wouldn't be much she could do. He could escape and decide later whether he wanted to come back or—

Wait. Come back? What the hell was he thinking? Why would he choose to be locked up by any human? No matter how pretty, and gutsy, and sweet and nice-voiced and...

Crap.

Anyway. He wouldn't come back. He'd have to be sure to grab his notes and a few books for Alphys; Frisk could always get more copies. He already had plenty to report to King Asgore, though he felt a little uneasy about letting ol' Gorey know that the most powerful barrier-making human was a determined sorceress whose SOUL could probably make you invincible. Actually, he felt a lot uneasy. Maybe he'd keep that to himself for now.

Too bad he couldn't bring her with him...

"...ans. Sans?" Frisk was touching his radius. She'd lifted her veil, large brown eyes turned up to his. "Are you all right?"

Sans studied her for a long moment, reflecting that Papyrus had always wanted a pet. The idea was more appealing than he'd have liked to admit; he had to dismiss it with a shake of his head, and shake it again to get it loose. "'m fine, kid. Remind me what this stuff was for?" After all, he thought darkly, he'd always told Pap no. Pets were too much trouble, especially if you got attached to them. Besides, what would they feed her?

A knock on the outer door startled them both. Before Frisk could respond, the door opened, and in strode a tall, thin man in dark robes, holding a box under his arm. "High Priestess. Honored guest," the man said in a cool, whispery voice, giving them a short bow.

"Dr. Serif? This is a surprise," the High Priestess responded, replacing the veil as she stood up. "I wasn't expecting you so early. Sans, this is Dr. Serif, the royal sorcerer. Doctor, please meet Sans the skeleton."

The man regarded Sans with mild curiosity. "I am very pleased to see you again, Sans the skeleton. Has Her Eminence been treating you well?"

"Uh...yeah," said Sans, nonplussed. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

The royal sorcerer bowed again. He was unnervingly pale, the effect enhanced by dark eyes and long black hair framing his face. "I helped transport you from your cell to this room."

"It took magic," Frisk said helpfully.

He'd figured as much; magic was the only way humans could do any damn thing. The boss monster looked at the box under the doctor's arm, which had a strange feel to it. He couldn't tell what it was, but he knew he didn't like it.

"This is for you, as we discussed, Your Eminence," the man said smoothly. "I will leave it in your office."

Frisk looked so uncomfortable that Sans glanced at the sorcerer, but nothing was visibly wrong. The man ignored them both, striding past the table and opening the door to her office. They heard rustling, and the doors closing as he stepped back into the workroom. "That will be all. Good day, my lady, Sans." With another bow, the doctor turned and left.

"Weirdo," said the ten-foot skeleton. He found he didn't want to look away from the door lest the guy come back and catch him unawares. He hadn't been threatening, but something about him was very off.

"He's...unique." Frisk sat down again. "Now, this infusion is almost ready. We'll leave it at room temperature for another ten minutes or so before we stir it again. In the meantime, you can add two drops of peppermint oil, mint, orange or lemon extract..."

~

The rest of the day passed without major incident. Frisk had to stop in the middle of concocting a burn salve and leave Sans to finish it, though she cautioned him not to infuse it yet. She rather envied him; she had to walk to the other side of the castle to go over her parish's monthly accounts, balancing foot-long columns of tiny numbers to check that tithes and alms had come in and gone out properly. They never quite did, though it had gotten better in the past year, as she had made it increasingly clear that she was not interested in stealing from the poor or turning a blind eye to it, even for a few hundred extra dinar in her own column.

The attempts at bribery were particularly insulting because she didn't need it. The realm's High Priestess was entitled to half a percent of the Church's total monthly income, and through the magic of frugality and compound interest, her personal fortune had grown to the point where she didn't want to use any of it. Life was so strange; as a small child, she had only eaten once every couple of days, and now she could decide not to buy her own estate and maintain a huge staff for it.

She was starting to wonder, though, about a rumor she'd heard regarding several hundred acres of land that would supposedly be up for sale in the next few months. They were principally wheat and barley fields, no more than two days' walk from the Underground's main entrance. That was food for thought, indeed.

Frisk eventually finished and stopped by the kitchens on her way back to her room. Sans was still wary of what he ate, and she took care to have more than one damned fork now when she tasted his food for him. She wasn't worried for herself: if she didn't have time to eat in the kitchen, she routinely paid several of the staff a bit extra to make sure that everything they brought her had come straight from the pot or the pan, with no chance for someone to add any surprises.

That had felt hypocritical at first, but she'd soon realized that she couldn't rely on people's consciences or sense of duty to keep her safe. Many, like the guard captain, were loyal for loyalty's sake, but many more of them needed external motivation, and she was helping the cooks and servers support their families. And she wasn't literally stealing from orphans to do it!

An overstuffed basket sat outside her chambers, and the guard hastened to open the door and push it inside for her. Frisk carried the tray to the table, setting it by Sans' elbow as he compared nearly identical recipes in two separate books. Then she dragged the laundry basket over, pulling a sail-like garment out end over end. "Here you are," she said around an armful of fabric.

The skeleton looked up, scowling at the interruption. "Wha?"

"This is for you." Frisk tried to hold up an enormous shirt, then an enormous set of trousers. "I had them measure your clothes when we washed them for you. They made you another set."

Sans slowly got up and took the shirt from her, holding it against himself. It was sturdy linen, almost as thick as the canvas shirt he wore now and much softer. The skeleton turned it this way and that, poking the material. "What's this for?"

Pause. "It's a shirt," said Frisk. "It goes on the top half of your body. Humans need it for protection against the elements, and modesty, but for you, it's principally so that you have a shirt on."

He acknowledged her smartassery with a respectful nod. "I mean, wasn't this a pain to make? I hope nobody expects me t'pay fer this. Not my fault if what I got on ain't pretty enough for ya."

"Oh, it was. Getting something that size made up so quickly cost me more than I paid for all the clothes I've had this year combined. But you're not a slave, you're my apprentice. That means you're working for me, and I'm keeping track of your wages. It'll take a while to pay this off—" Frisk stuck her arm through one of the trouser legs, flapping it to shake it out. "—but I think you'll manage it before you leave."

Sans had another odd expression. "Yer payin' me for the stuff I make? I thought apprentices were the ones payin' to learn."

"I consider the knowledge you'll bring back to the Underground to be your apprenticeship fee, and as this arrangement wasn't your idea in the first place, we're bending the rules," she said patiently. "I see you've made three sets of burn salve, two of which look useable, and you're almost done with a cough elixir. Fair market value for those is about ten dinar total, so minus the infusion I'll do for you, you've earned about seven already."

"Hm." He scratched the side of his head. "What am I payin' you for my food?"

Frisk laughed, shaking out the other leg. "The pleasure of your company." At his blank stare, she shook her head and uncovered the tray. "No one charges their apprentice for room and board, Sans." The priestess put down the trousers, picked up the fork and leaned in for a bite of baked fish.

The skeleton pulled the tray away, making her stab the table instead. "If I owe ya money, you're definitely not gonna poison me," he pointed out, and began shoveling it in.

"You're right," Frisk said gravely, trying and failing to hide her grin. "I'm glad you've had time to mullet over."

Sans pounded the table with his free fist, rattling the glass vials. "Might as well, just for the halibut. Right?"

She covered her mouth with the back of her hand. "That was weak. Think of a better one and let minnow," she said around it.

"You're right," he said, and waited for her to take a bite before he added, "We really need to scale back."

They had to stop laughing long enough to eat. By the time dinner was over and Frisk had carried the dishes out, both were relaxed enough to be sleepy. "Dunno why I keep wantin' to go t'bed, all I've done is read 'n catnap," mumbled Sans, trudging into the bedroom and flopping onto the mattress. "'m not even usin' my damn magic."

"You're eating human food, so your body is getting more nutrition and working harder to process it," Frisk pointed out, settling into her chair. "Mother said the humans all had to eat more to stop being hungry Underground." She tried not to burp out loud. "Besides, you're probably still recovering from the energy you spent being captured and then trying to kill me. Thrice."

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that." The skeleton stretched all the phalanges of his toes, flexing them in turn. "Probably won't do it again," he added truthfully.

"Thank you." Frisk also stretched her legs out, Sans noticing how absurdly tiny her feet were as she got up from her chair with the recipe book. She reached down to dog-ear the page they were on. "Well, I—"

He whisked the book out of her hand and flipped it open to smooth the page out. "Use a bookmark, woman! What are ya, some kinda barbarian?"

"It's an old book! They're all creased anyway," she argued, trying to take it back. He held it over his head, roughly a mile out of reach. "All right, then, fine," she said with a smirk. "I'm going to take a bath. Read through and find five more ingredients to discuss when I get back." She shut the door on quiet skeletal griping, smiling to herself.

~

The next day passed in a similar fashion, at least outwardly. Frisk took careful note of everything Sans made, ignoring his suggestion to dock him the price of the ingredients when he screwed up; luckily, he was catching on fast, even if she wouldn't let him infuse anything yet. She also wouldn't tell him how much his new clothing had cost, saying only that she'd let him know when he broke even. What really got his attention was her adding, "If you make enough money, we'll send a few bushels of wheat back with you. No one can be upset that you were gone for so long if you come bearing gifts, can they?"

Sans was glad he didn't have facial muscles or anything similar to betray his inner turmoil. He'd had a lot of second thoughts last night about bashing his way out of here, due in small part to the new outfit and the possibility of bringing food to the Underground, but mostly because she was working her brain-magic on him again, being attractive and kind and easy to talk to like the terrible, sadistic person she was...not. She was not remotely terrible or sadistic, and that was the problem. He still didn't understand it, or how it was getting worse so much quicker than he'd anticipated. He just wanted to get away before she entangled him any further.

Then he'd started thinking of Snowdin right before he fell asleep, and for the first time since he'd been captured, he had dreamed of home. He dreamed their house was cold and dark, with no one upstairs and a single light on in the kitchen. A female form was silhouetted in the kitchen doorway, hands on hips, facing something slumped over the side of the couch. "C'mon, Pap. He's probably just out on another hunting trip," she argued.

"...IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MAKE ME FEEL BETTER?" The thin, nasal voice hurt Sans' SOUL, and not just because he'd desperately wanted to hear it again. This wasn't his boisterous, indomitable, recklessly cheerful brother; this was a small, heartsick Papyrus, one Sans hadn't seen or heard in a long, long time. The last time it happened, at least Sans had been there for him. Now Sans was gone, too.

"Hunting animals, Papyrus! He's hunting animals. Not humans." The woman thumped the wall for emphasis, knocking little bits of plaster from the ceiling. Dammit, Sans had told her to quit doing that. "That's gotta be it. We don't eat humans, and he knows how bad the food situation is, right? So..."

"I DON'T CARE WHAT HE'S DOING. ...WELL. NOT MUCH." The skeleton heaved a sigh, raising his face from the couch cushion. "...UNDYNE, I...I CAN'T REACH HIM. IF HE'S ALL RIGHT, WHERE IS HE?"

And then something had seeped out of the darkness and gently enclosed Sans' mind, blotting out the dream like a sponge on spilled water. He had woken up knowing that it wasn't a dream, and was instantly enraged—he'd been so grateful that the nightmares had stopped, and too damn stupid to figure out that she'd set a barrier up against external influences, including dreams shared with Pap. He'd ponder the full ramifications of it blocking nightmares another day; the memory of his brother's expression had decided him. Agreement or no agreement, he was getting out of here tonight.

Of course, he couldn't pack up the stuff he needed before their lesson was done, or right afterward. He wasn't worried about giving himself away: as an accomplished bullshitter, he knew he was behaving perfectly normally. The moment dinner was cleared away, he called dibs on the bathroom, which had a nice, huge tub that he wanted to use one more time. When he was done and she'd gone in and locked the door – and after the usual stab of curiosity as to what she looked like outside of clothes – Sans quietly put everything he wanted into a satchel he'd found under the worktable, and stowed it behind the door in the bedroom, where he had to wait until she was done getting dressed.

The one odd thing was that after she emerged from her dressing room in her full priestess-y regalia, she went into her office and spent a few minutes doing nothing that he could hear, after which she was wearing a different brooch. She'd had a white one on the first day they met, but this one shone with a greyish light under her veil.

"Goin' so soon?" he asked carelessly. It was ten o'clock.

She smiled. "If my duties only included saying words and a few songs, I would sleep much easier. There's always someone to speak to before and after services."

"Gotcha. Well, have fun. 'm gonna read somethin' with a damn bookmark 'fore I go to bed—I forgot t'ask, mind if I try ta make a few things while you're not here?"

"Go right ahead. You'll pay for it if you burn down my workroom, so I'm trusting you to behave." Was he imagining a weird little inflection there? No, she looked totally wonderful. ...Normal. She looked totally normal. "Good night, Sans," she said, adjusting her veil.

"G'night, Frisk." He stretched out on the bed as she shut the door.

That was it, then. He might not ever see her again. It...wasn't a good feeling. In fact, it felt pretty bad. Time to quit feeling it, think of Pap, and focus on his plan of action.

The plan: well, for starters, it would be dumb to try breaking out immediately. He wished he knew exactly where the chapel was. He'd heard occasional church-type singing off in the distance, but that didn't give him an idea of how far away she'd be during the service, or for exactly how long. Instead, he watched the clock and fidgeted, as nervous as the first time he'd faced down a group of human sorcerers.

Maybe this was a dumb idea. Maybe he should just ask her to take down the barrier keeping him from dreaming with Papyrus, just for one night. She was too kind to refuse, and intelligent enough...

...to ask him for more information in exchange. Frisk knew he used to be a normal monster, and might think to ask if he'd always been able to speak across dreams; it wouldn't be too far a stretch for her to keep questioning how he became a boss monster. She'd also realize that if she let him communicate with other monsters, he could tell them several things that she would prefer they not know, including her identity and full capabilities. It was one thing for her to take a calculated risk and let him go back to the Underground with that information, or – much more likely – to make him forget it before he left; some humans had the ability to excise bits of memory like that. It'd be another thing entirely to permit a conversation that no one else could even hear. She was nice, not stupid.

So Sans waited until eleven forty-five, and then he sat in the workroom with the satchel looped around his wrist for another ten minutes, nerves humming. Then he got up, went to the double doors leading out of her rooms, and silently picked up a seven-foot decorative statue standing at the room's threshold, wedging it inward across the doorframe. He went back to the workroom, judged the weakest place in the outside wall, reared back, and slammed his fist directly between two of the windows.

~

Frisk had started to relax as the organist began playing and incense floated in the chapel air. She was opening her mouth for the first hymn when a warning note sounded in the back of her mind: the barrier to her workroom's outside windows was tingling, and then it suddenly burned away, the warning note sliding all the way up to a full-blown klaxon.

She gritted her teeth so hard that it hurt, controlling her expression with a supreme effort as the voice in her head screamed, Sans, you two-faced sack of fertilizer!

The only good thing about the situation was that she wasn't leading this service. Therefore, it was odd, but not completely conspicuous, when she stepped to the back of the choir, touched her new brooch, and vanished.

[camimcndcs]

i’ll look after you

TAGGING: KJ @itskjapa​, Cami.

LOCATION: Vancouver, BC.

TIMEFRAME: November 4th, 2020.

NOTES: KJ and Camila come together for the sake of their daughter after she comes down with a fever.

Cami: The past week had been a complete rollercoaster for both Camila and KJ. They hadn’t been communicating well and it had taken it’s toll. Overnight it seemed their relationship went from being about them to being solely about Talia. Speaking of their infant daughter, she hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before and when Camila had gotten her up this morning she was fussy and crying. KJ had been gone when Camila woke up, but he had an early call time which was expected. She was supposed to be on set later this afternoon, but Talia was really starting to worry her. Their daughter had hardly stopped crying in the last hour and Camila was reaching her limit. Reaching for her phone, the raven-haired girl called her mother in a panic when she noticed her daughter felt unreasonably warm. Gisel had tried her best to calm Camila down, trying to not make her freak out as she calmly explained that the baby probably had a fever brought on by a cold. The best thing to do would be to take the baby to the hospital and contact KJ on the way. Camila thanked her mother with a panicked smile as she rushed around the apartment grabbing anything she might need for Talia at the hospital. She called Lisa and asked for a ride to the hospital, explaining that she would inform KJ on the way and he could meet them there. The drive from the set was about 40 minutes so she made sure to call her fiancé as soon as she got into Lisa’s car. It felt like it had been ringing for forever when he finally picked up and before he could even get a word out she was rambling on. “Babe? Hi, um, Lisa and I are taking Talia to the hospital because she hasn’t stopped crying since she woke up an hour ago and she’s really warm, my mom said it’s probably a fever, please, just meet us at the hospital, okay?” she spit out in just a couple of minutes, hoping he was already on his way to finding a ride to the hospital. “Try not to worry too much, she’s going to be okay…” she whispered, holding back her own tears. Camila knew that not being able to be here with them now was probably killing him. “I’ll text you updates, we love you,” she whispered, the words already feeling somewhat foreign on her tongue which she hated.

KJ: Just as easily as autumn had settled over Vancouver, things behind closed doors had drastically changed. KJ had pondered on the situation enough to get headaches, but he was still as dumbfounded by the sudden turn of events regarding his relationship with Camila. It was as if one day she had decided to shut him out; their only common ground being their daughter. Although he was doing his best to keep a positive outlook, telling himself it was something most mothers went through the first weeks after birth, he was slowly losing such battle. Keeping up a good front was becoming harder, but there was nothing else he could do without fearing of worsening their fragile bond. Every day was a new prayer that she would find it in herself to grab the hand he desperately kept extending her way. His break between takes was spent as he usually did lately, looking at pictures of the two of them. Better times he kept longing for. It constantly brought this spurt of courage that died down as soon as he crossed the threshold of their apartment without any greetings from his fiancée -- unless she needed him to run to the store for diapers. The redhead was thrown off his walk down memory lane when her face appeared on the left corner of the screen, his thumb immediately brushing against the green button on the other side. "Hey--" he started, cut off by Camila who explained the emergency currently happening. Without missing a beat, he jumped from his chair, looking at Lili on his way out of the tent; who thankfully understood he needed to leave and went to warn the crew. "I'm not worried. You shouldn't be too, she's totally going to be okay." He breathed out heavily while racing to where his car was parked, door flung open before he quickly settled in. Phone still in hand as he reached out for the keys hidden in the sun visor. The next words she uttered made him pause and for a brief moment KJ thought he was probably dreaming them. Though his heart wouldn't be soaring for any other reason. "I love you too, Cami." he quietly replied, eyes brimming with tears as the emotions he couldn't contain washed over him. "I'll be there soon." All he left behind him was a cloud of dust as he sped away from the studio. Inclined to keep his word and be with them as quick as possible.

Cami: Hearing her fiancé on the other line brought a surge of hope to Camila's spirit. She knew that Talia would be fine, but bringing their tiny baby to the hospital was still scary. It was every mother's nightmare for their child to get sick. The raven-haired girl brought her free hand up to caress Talia's face as she continued to fuss in her car seat. "Drive safely," she whispered to KJ on the phone before hanging up, feeling some sort of relief when she saw the hospital come into view just a few minutes later. Lisa dropped the mother-daughter pair off at the front door to the emergency room, promising to be in as soon as she had parked. Camila took a deep breath before walking into the building, finding someone to speak with immediately to get Talia checked in. Lisa was entering the building when a nurse took Camila and Talia back for a physical exam to measure her weight, heart rate, temperature, and oxygen level.  The minutes seemed to pass like hours as the nurse tended to Talia before she informed them that they'd be put in a private room to wait for a physician. Camila sent a quick text to KJ to update him before taking Talia in her arms as Lisa grabbed the car seat to follow them into a more private area. She told the nurse that her fiancé would be joining them soon and the nurse promised to get him to their room as soon as possible. Again, the minutes seemed to pass slowly before the physician entered the room and Talia had gone back to inconsolable crying which was making it hard for Camila to stay calm. Taking a few deep breaths, she explained to the physician what was going on, and the doctor explained that they would have to do some tests on Talia to see what was really wrong. It could be something as simple as a cold or something more serious. Camila nodded her head in response, tears filling her eyes as she looked down at the little girl in her arms, hoping and praying she would be okay.

KJ: Drive Safely, Camila had uttered before ending their phone call, but KJ had been anything but safe while on the road. Wanting to be by her side and Talia's as soon as humanly possible. The traffic was busy as usual, but not enough to prevent him from reaching the hospital in record time. As if God had led the path himself and made sure there would be no obstacles on the way. As he rushed inside the building, he couldn't help but be reminded of the last time a similar scenario had happened -- except the circumstances had been more joyful. Yet still as nerve-racking considering they were both treading into new territory. This time, there was no one to greet him or lead the way, at least no one familiar, and although words rapidly fell from his lips in what he deemed as quite incoherent, a nurse seemed to understand him nonetheless. She was quick to reassure him as they walked down the hallway, believing their baby had surely caught a cold and would be alright. It's always frightening when it's your first, but you'll learn with time. He held onto those words and hoped she was right. "Thank you." he nodded at the older woman before stepping inside the room, his brown eyes settling on his fiancée as soon. Not wasting any time, he separated the distance between them and wrapped an arm around her frame while simultaneously caressing their daughter's face. Feeling for himself just how warm she appeared to be. "Hey, I'm here. Anything new? Did you talk to the doc?" he asked, pressing his lips against Talia's forehead. The fingers resting against Camila's hip digging slightly into the clothes she was wearing, resisting the urge to drive her closer next to him. They were both worried in that moment and she had whispered those three words he had failed to hear for a while; but he knew better than to assume anything. He would make himself available, but wouldn't force more than the current touch he was bestowing upon her as they both watched over Talia.

Cami: Despite the noise in the hospital, Camila could hear the sound of her fiancé's voice which caused her to look up, feeling a sense of relief wash over her as he quickly made his way over to her and Talia. "Hi," she whispered, the tears that had welled up in her eyes falling as he wrapped his arm around her waist and leaned down to press a kiss to Talia's forehead. "Yeah, um, they need to do a urine test and a blood test to see what's going on," she replied her voice shaky as she relayed the information she had from the doctor. Once it looked like the little family was settled, Lisa stood up and excused herself, letting the couple know she would be thinking of them and praying for a speedy recovery. Camila promised to update her as they got more news and then it was just the three of them, waiting for the doctor to come back to run the tests. Taking a deep breath, Camila handed Talia to KJ and then wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face into his bicep as she began to cry. She hadn't wanted to cry earlier because she had needed to pay attention to everything the doctor was saying, but now that it was just the three of them she felt like she could finally let go a little bit. Camila had been holding in a lot of tears and she knew things were off between them, but she also knew that they needed each other right now to be strong for their daughter. "I hate being here, I know it's probably just a cold, but I hate being here and I hate that they're going to run tests on her, she's so small," she whispered into his sweatshirt clad arm. At least Talia had finally seemed to calm down in her father's arms, Camila was thankful for that, but she was certain the tears would come again when they needed to get a blood and urine sample from their baby girl. "How was work? Were you busy?" she asked, hoping to distract herself from the reason they were in this hospital to begin with.

KJ: There was no denying the anxiousness she was exuding in that moment — the slight tremor in her voice as she explained what would unfold gripping his fragile heart and squeezing tight. No matter how frightened KJ was as well, despite the encouraging words the nurse had shared previously, he knew he needed to be the strong one. The shoulder she could lean on and be her vulnerable self around; like a rock that wouldn’t falter. “It’s gonna be fine.“ he reassured Camila as his gaze ventured to her face. The long strands of hair in the way not being able to fully hide the tears that were clearly rolling down her cheeks. The redhead had been too preoccupied to even acknowledge Lisa in the first place, though he gave her a small nod when she offered to keep Talia in her prayers. Thankful for the alone time they would get as a family during this situation. “Hi, baby.“ He was taken aback when Talia found place in his arms, but not as much as when Camila used the opportunity to fling herself at him. Her warm breath tingling all of his senses. How he had missed having her this close — the warmth radiating from her body enveloping him whole. “I know, Cami. Me too... I wish things could be different. But we gotta see the positive in this. Once those tests are done, at least we’ll be sure. And we won’t worry as much.“ he whispered in the crown of her head, pressing his lips against her hair while the hand that was resting on the small of her back kept her close to him. A handful of minutes passed before she tried to make small talk, something he wasn’t truly inclined to but humored her with anyway while they waited. “Just the usual, aye. I was finishing a scene when you called... nothing that I can’t reshoot later though.“ Standing in the middle of the room, he almost forgot for a second about the circumstances surrounding them; simply basking in the two most precious people in his life. “I’m sorry I wasn’t home with you. But I ain’t going anywhere now.“

Cami: The tears continued to flow from Camila’s eyes as KJ did his best to reassure her. “But what if it’s not just a cold? What if she’s really sick?” she whimpered a bit, closing her eyes and trying her best to take deep breaths. She knew that she shouldn’t be thinking like that, but being here was making her anxious and Talia had never been so cranky and upset before. Camila knew that it was the only way their daughter could show that she was in pain or didn’t feel well, but it was still scary. “You’re right, you’re right,” she finally breathed out, smiling softly as his lips pressed against her hair at the crown of her head. “Your daddy’s got you, T, you’re in good hands,” she whispered to the baby, reaching out one hand to caress the little girls cheek. “Well, that’s good. Anything exciting?” she asked with a smile, trying her best to distract herself. “That’s okay, babe, you were working to provide for your family, I can’t be mad at that, you’re here now, that’s what matters,” she whispered, reaching up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. It was at that moment that the doctor stepped back in to administer some tests. She asked that one of them hold Talia during the process, because it would provide some sort of comfort to her. Once they’d done the tests, they would get her into a crib and hook her up to some medicine to at least calm her fever down. The doctor informed them that if things started to look better in the next few hours they’d let them go home with some more medicine they could administer on their own since the tests wouldn’t come back for a day or two. Camila pulled away from KJ and offered him the chair in the room, wanting him to be the one to keep Talia safe through this because she didn’t know if she was currently strong enough to. Moving behind the chair, the raven-haired girl placed her hands on her fiancé’s shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze, watching as he listened to the doctors instructions for how to hold Talia during the different tests.

KJ: All KJ could do was hold Camila tighter against him, providing the comfort she was seeking while trying his best to prevent himself from following right along the negative thoughts she had voiced aloud. They were in the back of his mind, whispering softly but he refused to give in; instead keeping his brown eyes on their daughter as they both surrounded her with what he hoped was a sense of safety. Your daddy's got you. He wanted to tell his fiancée he was there for her just as much but swallowed the lump in his throat, afraid that if he pushed his luck in this moment, the spell would break. And then she would take her distance once more, leaving him feeling like an empty shell. Yet she surprised him on her own by being so kind and understanding regarding his absence -- something she had blamed him for days ago -- and as her lips came in contact with his cheek; a shaky breath flew past his own. The gesture so familiar and foreign all at once. One that didn't last as long as he would have liked it to and clearing his throat, he tried to get himself back on track. Finally answering the casual question she had thrown his way. "Nothing very exciting, nah. Just the same old drama in Riverdale, aye." A quiet chuckle followed suit before they were interrupted by the doctor, who immediately got his undivided attention. The redhead lost count of the number of times he nodded along as she spoke and settled down on the chair Camila dragged toward him -- indicating he would be the one to hold Talia during the different tests she would endure. "Is this okay?" he asked while holding the fussy baby against his chest, making sure one of his limbs wasn't in the way. The weight of his fiancée's hands as she placed them on his shoulders keeping him focused. Heavy and soothing; clearly still looking for the strength he had been supplying from the beginning while also sharing some of her own. They always worked best as a team.

Cami: Keeping her hands steady against her fiancé’s shoulders, Camila listened as the doctor explained that they would draw some blood from the babies heel and then put an absorbent pad into her diaper and wait a few minutes for her to pee. She spoke up to let the doctor know Talia hadn’t really eaten much this morning, so a feeding would most likely have to happen before they got her urine sample. Watching as KJ held their daughter against his chest, the doctor wiped Talia’s foot to clean it and then pricked her heel with a needle which caused her to scream out. Camila couldn’t bare to see her little girls face become red with tears, so she gave the redheads shoulders a squeeze and closed her eyes, willing the tears to not come. The doctor placed a bandaid on her heel and KJ turned the little girl in his arms to try and comfort her. At that point, Camila had sat herself next to them in a chair, ready to feed their daughter. The doctor instructed her fiancé on applying the absorbent pad to their daughters diaper which he did carefully as Talia squirmed on the table. When everything was secure, he handed their daughter over to Camila who undid her shirt, silently praying Talia would latch on and actually eat something or else they’d be hooking her up to more than just an IV for medicine. The thought of her baby laying in a hospital crib, hooked up to machines did not sit well with her, so she needed Talia to eat this way. As she felt their little girl latch on to her breast, Camila almost let out a cry, tearing up slightly at this tiny victory. “She’s doing it, babe,” she whispered, looking over at KJ and reaching out to squeeze his hand. There was finally a comfortable moment of silence between them as the only sound came from their daughter suckling from her mother’s breast. Hopefully she’d have a full diaper in just a few minutes and then they could get her hooked up to some medicine to slow her fever down.

KJ: Everything that was coming out of the doctor's mouth seemed way too complicated to understand the more she explained herself. At least on KJ's side, despite how much he relentlessly nodded along whenever her gaze would find him. Which is why he was quite relieved to see Camila interacting so easily with her, appearing to be very in tune with the process Talia would be put through -- although the grip on his shoulders was a reminder that she was trying her hardest to keep her composure. For once in what had seemed like an eternity, they were finally on the same page about something. His heart broke for the second time that day as his little angel cried harder than she had before, but all he could do was press her harder against his chest. Praying that the gesture alone would appease her in some way. The redhead had always been good at doing what he was told to and followed the instructions properly when he was asked to apply the pad; the confident motions a stark contrast to the expression crossing his features. There was only so many emotions he could prevent from taking over after all. "Roger, roger... we're landing on Cami's island. Happy boob, Miss T." he whispered under his breath as a small smile tugged on the corners of his mouth. The sound of his voice loud enough for their daughter to hear. He never ceased to come up with some idiotic sentences that he was certain would make her laugh one of these days. Watching intently when his fiancée offered the boob in question so she could latch onto it, a bright grin broke on his face as she did so -- the look on Camila's making it hard to do anything but smile. A beautiful sight that had been rare to witness lately. After a handful of minutes and two hands that had been unable to let go of one another, KJ was given the task to burp Talia. Which he did as soon, pacing the room slowly while his hand came in contact repeatedly with her small back. "You just watch, she'll have that pad filled out like a pro.”

Cami: The laugh that fell from Camila’s lips at KJ’s whispering as he placed their daughter into her arms was the first time she had laughed in a couple of days. “Yes, happy boob indeed,” she giggled, keeping his hand held tight in hers. When Talia finished eating, Camila handed her back to KJ to burp her. Watching as he slowly paced the room, gently patting her back to get her to burp. His confidence in their daughter and his more positive outlook on the current situation was good for Camila. Once Talia had let out a burp, she watched as her fiancé laid the little girl down to change her. The doctor had returned in that moment from dropping off her blood sample and was ready to take a sample of her urine if their little girl had actually gone the bathroom. Camila stood, standing by KJ’s side, caressing Talia’s cheek as the redhead checked she diaper. To their relief, it was full and Camila let out a little cheer, leaning in to press a kiss to Talia’s forehead. She still felt so warm which worried Camila, but she knew they were now on track to getting her better. Their doctor took the sample and then explained that a nurse would be in soon to hook their daughter up to an IV to slow down her fever with some medicine. Scooping Talia back up into her arms, the raven-haired girl stood waiting for KJ to wrap his arms around her from behind and keep them both safe in his strong arms. “Will you hold us?” she asked in a whisper, knowing he had been staying back to give her space if she needed or wanted it. But space was the last thing she wanted right now. As his strong arms latched around her waist, Camila leaned into him, pressing her back against his chest. Looking down at Talia as their baby girl let out a yawn. “You can take a nap once they get some medicine into you, baby,” she whispered, feeling instantly calmer in KJ’s arms.

KJ: Just as he had predicted, Talia had filled out her pad as nicely as possible under such circumstances, and a part of him couldn't believe they were so happy to retrieve what ultimately could be deemed as a dirty diaper. Though it would determine whatever illness she was currently taken over with and that was quite enough for him to get on board with the idea -- a slight fist pump accompanying Camila's cheer. The obvious stress that had washed over them would only find rest once they would be able to go home, but being reassured regarding the current fever would lift a weight from their tired shoulders. As they were once again left on their own, KJ nervously licked his lips, his brown eyes drifting from the two most important people in his life and settling on the floor. Now that Talia was back in his fiancée's arms, he wasn't certain on what he was supposed to do. She had been very hands on from the start, but he didn't want to assume she was still looking to have him close. The question she suddenly uttered in a quiet and vulnerable voice caught him off guard, but he was quick to react -- moving forward and slowly wrapping his arms around them. The redhead allowed himself a brief moment to breathe her in, so tempted to kiss the patch of skin that was so near and seemed to call out his name. But a light kick from his daughter brought him back from the spell he had been put under. "She's gonna be okay. There's nothing that can get to her-- not while we're together." he whispered, so certain of such statement. The medicine would do the trick and they would watch over her like hawks nonetheless; barely get any sleep as they'd act like the protective parents they were. "T is strong like her mum. Ain't you, baby girl? All you need is a little cocktail and you'll be crying for food and that cute pacifier you love so much. It'll be like nothing's happened." He could only hope that would be the case for the tension between them.

Cami: With KJ's arms wrapped tightly around Camila's waist, she felt completely calm. Closing her eyes as she felt him breathe in her scent, the moment was interrupted of course by Talia, kicking at her father's arm, but they really couldn't be upset with her when she was sick. As he whispered encouragement to them, Camila nodded her head in agreement. Knowing they worked better as a team, but still unable to fully grasp why her hormones had taken such a toll on her mood. She couldn't help but giggle at his next comment, brushing her fingers against their daughters cheek and leaning down to kiss her forehead which was still warm to the touch. The doctor reentered the room again at that moment with a nurse right behind her, wheeling in a crib and prepping the IV for Talia's medicine. Stepping out of her fiancé's arms, Camila stripped their daughter of her clothes and gave her another kiss, offering her up to KJ so he could give her a kiss as well. Holding her close as they got the IV into her almost broke Camila as their daughters cries filled the room again. "It's okay, T, this is going to help you feel better, I promise, baby, please don't cry," she whispered, trying to soothe the little girl as best she could. Once her IV was in, Camila gently placed her into the crib and turned towards KJ, falling into his arms as sobs wracked her body. Deep down she knew that this was good for their daughter and she was going to be okay, but the sound of her crying just broke her heart into a million pieces. It was also scary to see their daughter hooked up to an IV with other wires surrounding her. Burying her face deeper into his chest, Camila tried to catch her breath as he held her. She was so thankful to have him by her side through all of this even though tensions had been high between them. He could've just been here for Talia, but instead he was here for both of them and it was just what she needed.

KJ: After agonizing hours waiting for things to get better, they had finally be allowed to leave the hospital with a sleepy Talia by their side. The results of the tests they had put her through wouldn't be available until the following day, but the doctor had felt quite confident in her diagnosis when the fever had dropped down -- giving them a handful of instructions regarding the medicine they were provided with. The ride home had been rather silent, though the tension was still nowhere to be found. Their interactions were slightly awkward at times, mostly on his side as he wasn't entirely sure how to react. KJ never failed to follow suit in the end and take whatever she was willing to offer him, especially under such stressful circumstances. Camila had found place with their daughter in the backseat, wanting to stay as close as humanly possible. Something he couldn't blame her for, quite the opposite. Glancing back yet again in the rearview mirror as he came to a stop at a red light, he was surprised to catch her looking at him instead of the baby who had been under her very watchful eye as soon as they had gotten in the car. The redhead mustered a small smile, one that was returned immediately and animated the butterflies in the pit of his stomach. Despite the anxious and tired look crossing her features, she was still just as beautiful and he wished he felt confident enough to utter such words in that moment -- ultimately, he wasn't. "Should we lay down in bed with her when we get home? Or do you prefer something else?" he questioned with a tilt of his head, brown eyes venturing back onto the road as he moved forward in the direction of their building. Although he couldn't find it in himself to compliment her, he was brave enough to include himself in the scenario that would unfold at home. She had been in his arms too much that day for him to think she would want the rest of their time to be different.

Cami: Sitting in the backseat with their daughter, Camila kept her eyes on the little girl in her car seat, glancing at her fiancé from time to time. When he caught her eye at a red light she couldn't help but return his smile, thankful to have him as her rock throughout all of this. "You look so handsome today," she whispered, blushing slightly as he looked at her. Glancing down again at their daughter she nodded her head in response to his question. "We should definitely lay in bed with her until she falls asleep and then see if she'll sleep in her own bed. You're not going back to work?" she asked, hoping he was going to stay with them, but understanding if he had to get back to work. Even though it frustrated her sometimes, she knew that it wasn't up to him when he worked. She was lucky to only have to work a few days a week, but he didn't have that luxury. Once they arrived back at their building, Camila got out of the car and let KJ carry Talia in her carrier up to their apartment. She was thankful to be home, with her family and out of that stuffy hospital room with their baby hooked up to different machines with wires. The raven-haired girl was quiet as they rode the elevator up to their floor, standing close to her fiancé and little girl as she waited for the elevator to stop. Once it did, she stepped out, grabbing her keys from her purse to let them into their home. "It's good to be home," she breathed out, setting her purse down and walking towards their room. Camila immediately changed into one of KJ's shirts and a pair of leggings, crawling into their bed waiting for her fiancé to join her as he changed Talia's diaper and stripped her of her onesie to keep her cooled down.

KJ: Just as if they were still on the same wavelength despite the rift between them, the compliment she uttered caught him off guard -- his gaze lingering in the rearview mirror until the car behind them loudly made its presence known as the next red light they had encountered turned green. "Shit." he cursed under his breath, pressing his foot on the pedal and turning right when they reached the underground parking of Shangri-La. Making a fool of himself wouldn't probably work in his favor, although Camila had always seemed to find it endearing. Alas, things hadn't been quite the same these days. "Yeah nah, I sent a text to Roberto. He understood I was needed at home. I can't really leave you both alone..." he trailed off as they came to a halt in the reserved space, eyes widening slightly before he quickly spoke again. Afraid she would take his words the wrong way. "I mean, I wanna be with you. It's been pretty tough seeing T this way." Before he could say something that would officially dig his grave, he led the way to their apartment; their daughter seemingly in better shape than previously as she quietly kept her brown eyes on the both of them. Instructions had been given on their way up and it was dutifully that the redhead changed Talia's diaper, leaving her practically bare. Once in the bedroom, he smiled at the sight of his fiancée wearing one of his shirts and kicked off his shoes -- gently laying down their baby in the middle of the bed and finding place beside them. "You look beautiful." he breathed out, his gaze trailing over the sheet before confidently finding Camila's. "I wanted to say so earlier, but..." A light scoff tumbled from his mouth and the little girl became the center of attention once more in an attempt to save himself from embarrassment. Small steps would perhaps allow them to find their way back to better times. They could meet each other halfway with simple gestures. "Someone's gonna have the best nap ever, aye. Can't get any better."

Cami: As the car remained stopped even as the light turned green, Camila couldn't help but laugh as the car behind them loudly made their presence known and KJ muttered under his breath. Thankfully, the honking didn't disturb Talia, who was too busy rubbing her gums against her mother's finger. If they had disturbed their daughter, Camila was certain her mood would've turned sour rather quickly. As her fiancé fumbled over his words, the raven-haired girl rested her free hand on his shoulder, rubbing it gently. "I get it, babe, it has been awful seeing our little girl this way, I'm glad you're staying," she whispered. Following KJ up into their building and then their apartment, she could hear him babbling to their baby girl as she changed her which brought a smile to her face as Camila waited for them to join her. Once Talia was laid in the middle of their bed, Camila threw her arm over their daughter's waist to keep her secure. She gently caressed the smooth skin of the little girl's stomach, as KJ joined them in the bed. A slight blush crept up on her cheeks as he complimented her, watching as he again fumbled over his words before focusing his attention on the little girl who had stolen both of their hearts. "Thank you, babe," she whispered in response, making sure to acknowledge his compliment. At his next comment, she watched as a yawn fell from their daughter's lips. She was thankful Talia had been able to calm down and was now feeling ready for a nap. It was a nice change of pace from the crazy morning. "I'll let her fall asleep here and then we can move her to her own bed, mommy and daddy deserve their own cuddle time," she whispered sweetly, reaching over to run her hands through the redhead's hair. Things had been tense between them, but right now, all she wanted was to be completely wrapped up in his strong arms. The events of the morning had really worn her out.

KJ: Like for most of the day ever since she had called him regarding Talia's feverish state, Camila's words rendered him speechless -- the surprise crossing his features undeniable as she mentioned cuddling with him once their little girl would be asleep. KJ couldn't quite recall the last time they had done this purposefully. He had woken up wrapped around her many mornings, but usually because they were both inclined to roll over during the night; thus finding themselves in close proximity. Her mood swings, that were more intense than the ones she had graced him with during her actual pregnancy, were in the way each evening when he came home. He never truly knew what to say or do in order to make it better, preferring to give her the space she needed and allowing her to come to him on her own terms. It was all so frustrating, but today was the first time there was a glimmer of hope for them to get back on the right track -- for their fun and loving side to take over again. "Yeah, we do." he breathed out as the look in his eyes softened, his own hand gliding between them and resting on the small of her back; drawing her closer against their daughter. Closer toward him. The ticking sound coming from his watch almost drove him crazy as the minutes passed them by, the anticipation of the moment bubbling inside his being. There was nothing that mattered more than Talia being safe and sound, but the thought of being close to his fiancée was at the forefront and had been ever since she had mentioned as such. When it became clear their baby was fast asleep, the redhead tried not to appear too eager while he moved her to her own bed -- carefully laying her down on the mattress and backing away just as quietly. Yet he couldn't conceal the excitement he was submerged with as he plopped down on the space he had previously occupied and waited for Camila to separate the distance. One arm folded behind his head and the other spread out; inviting her in his embrace.

Cami: Watching the look in KJ's eyes soften warmed the raven-haired girls heart. As his hand came between them before resting on the small of her back, drawing her closer to him she couldn't help but smile. It had been awhile since they'd been like this. Once Talia had finally settled down and was now fast asleep between them, Camila watched as her fiancé carefully moved her to her crib, being extra gentle after the long day their sweet baby had to endure. Once he came back to the bed, she immediately snuggled as close to him as possible. Camila pressed a kiss to his shirt-covered chest before nuzzling her head into it for maximum comfort against him and in his arms. The air in Vancouver was only getting colder and she was thankful for his body heat that always kept her warm. "I'm glad you're home with us," she whispered, truly meaning the sentiment she expressed. Sleep was soon to take over her body, the day had been exhausting and she was ready for a nap, but she was also just enjoying the feeling of being in KJ's embrace. Talia stirred and Camila turned her head for a second, hoping she wouldn't cry or need anything. Thankfully, she remained quiet after that and then the couple was free to allow sleep to take over their bodies. Camila hadn't felt this at peace in weeks which she knew was noticeable to those around her, but there was nothing she was truly doing about it. Being here right now with her fiancé was all that she cared about, the morning had been quite a scare, but now that Talia was alright, she felt so much better. A quiet late afternoon nap was hopefully going to be the rejuvenation they all needed. She could feel her eyelids closing as she lay with her head against KJ's chest and she fell asleep quickly to the rhythm of his heart beating in his chest.

[vitanes]

say it’s okay when it’s not

chapter 12: the beginning of the search

Lucas confronts his feelings about what Daphne has done, finds new resolve and reaches interesting gay conclusions. 

(a/n: does anyone remember this fic. i only have 4 exams left. the next chapter will be up in 2 weeks and after that we go back to the regular updates!)

“What?”

Lucas feels his knees giving out under him and he takes a step away from Daphne. She uselessly reaches a hand towards him but refrains from touching him when Lucas flinches away.

It feels like his whole world is crumbling down. Lucas is running out of breath, his skin feels itchy and hot, too hot.

“It was you? All those months?” he asks, his voice breaking. His eyes meet Daphne’s and there’s so much guilt in her gaze Lucas could drown. He gasps.

“No,” she claims, her whole face scrunched up. “I only took the pictures. I forgot about them until they were leaked. I swear I wasn’t blackmailing you,” she says, her voice thick with emotions. She stomps for emphasis.

“Someone made you do this? Why would you–“

Daphne cuts in.

“I was drunk and I saw you. I wasn’t thinking, I just snapped the pictures. I have no idea how they got out. Please, believe me. I wouldn’t do something like that to you,” she pleads, desperation clear in her voice. “Someone must have taken hold of my phone. I was so wasted that night.”

Lucas swallows the lump that has formed in his throat. “Why should I believe you?” he asks coldly. He knows that Daphne couldn’t have possibly stopped everything that has happened by telling him, but she had no right in taking those pictures. Essentially, if she hadn’t, this whole mess wouldn’t have happened.

“I may not be the best person but I wouldn’t blackmail someone,” she replies.

“But you took the pictures, no?” That shuts her up quickly. She has no answer to that, can only look at Lucas, hoping that he will forgive her. Tough luck because his ribs are still aching and he can’t stop waking up from nightmares. He isn’t in the best mood to forgive. Not for something like that. “You just want me to pat you on the back, say it’s not your fault, but the person’s who stole the pictures. But it is your fault. And you didn’t even tell me shit. I don’t hate you, Daphne, but I don’t like you very much either,” he spits out, his hands trembling. He can’t keep looking at her, he simply can’t or he will explode even more than he already has.

Lucas doesn’t let her say anything else, too tired of her shit and shakily walks out of the room. He has no idea what to do now. Should he tell someone? Keep it to himself? It’s too much, too fucking much to handle now. He wishes that she had at least said something useful instead of only making it worse. For example, that she had known who exactly stole the pictures.

Fuck.

He kicks a nearby wall and curses under his breath.

***

After his confrontation with Daphne, he’s got a couple of texts from her, all of them consisting of varying I’m sorry’s and what can I do’s. Lucas has left them unanswered, too pissed off to think of something better than a fuck off. He’s also got some worried messages from his other friends, asking about where the hell he’s disappeared – after all he skipped on the last two lessons. Lucas reassured them that everything is okay, but hasn’t provided any further explanation. He doesn’t want to say it. Not yet. As much as he’s angry at Daphne, he isn’t sure he wants to be the cause of their group splitting. Just because she’s done him dirty, doesn’t mean he’s an asshole, too.

At the same time, though, it’s hard to keep it in. That’s why he asks Eliott to hang out on Saturday. Eliott knows Daphne for the shortest time and for some reason it just feels right to confide in him. Lucas knows his go-to should be Yann and he is, but there’s something that tells Lucas things would blow up after that. Or maybe he simply wants to go to Eliott. No reason needed. Sometimes he isn’t quite sure there’s any logic behind his actions.

The moment he sees Eliott, he feels lighter. Eliott sends his way a wide grin while he’s approaching the bench Lucas is sitting on and then he plops down next to him.

“So what’s up?” Eliott asks, giving Lucas a look. Lucas huffs.

“Does something need to be up for me to ask you to hang out?” Lucas replies and hopes that the answer is no, that Eliott doesn’t think he’s convenient only when he’s needed. That’s not true at all.

“No, but you know, considering you disappeared on us it’s safe to assume that something happened,” Eliott says, knocking his elbow into Lucas’, as if sensing his insecurities.

Lucas sighs and licks his bottom lip before speaking, “Daphne took pictures of me and that guy.”

He can feel Eliott tense next to him and he glances at him. First, he looks confused as hell, his eyebrows furrowed but then another emotion takes over his face. Lucas perfectly knows this one. It’s anger.

Eliott lets out a bitter laugh. “Quite a bomb you just dropped on me. I wouldn’t expect her to do something like that.”

Lucas snorts. Well, Daphne being drunk and not respecting people’s privacy isn’t that uncommon. She’s tactless. “For some fucking reason, she wanted to have photos of me kissing a boy. And never said a thing. She wasn’t the one to blackmail me, but it’s still fucked up, isn’t it?” Lucas asks, trying to hide his uncertainty. What if Eliott says he’s blowing things out of proportion? He needs a confirmation that he was rightfully mad at Daphne.

“Yeah. Like, even if you were out and proud she wouldn’t have the right to do that unless you gave her permission. Let alone in this situation,” Eliott says and there are still traces of disbelief in his voice.

“And she’s never even told me a thing. It took someone beating me up for her to come clean,” Lucas mumbles, carding his fingers through his hair. Other than anger, he feels utter disappointment.  No matter how unbearable Daphne tends to be, he still considered her a friend. “And so I didn’t want to face anyone yesterday. No guys and God forbid, any of the girls. How can I go and tell them our dear friend fucked me over? I still don’t want to,” he admits quietly, his fingers toying with the hem of his jacket.

“Why did you decide to tell me?” Eliott asks and Lucas looks up at him. The apples of Eliott’s cheeks are tinted pink. It’s a little chilly today, that must be the reason. Lucas’ fingers flex when a stray strand of hair falls into Eliott’s eyes.

“You’re different,” Lucas says, his voice raspy.

Eliott turns towards him and their eyes meet. There’s something bashful in his gaze. “How so?”

Lucas gulps, feeling like they stepped off the track, into another territory. Far away from the topic of the earlier conversation.

Lucas tries to feign nonchalance and shrugs. He can’t really name it. “I don’t know,” he simply says.

Eliott’s thigh pressing against his feels warm.

***

The thing is, Lucas has wanted to find out who the blackmailer was ever since he got the first text. He’s spent hours upon hours wondering who can have a personal vendetta against him. Who would go this far just to destroy him? But the shit kept piling up on his plate, there were no hints indicating who it could be and he’d have developed paranoia than found the culprit. So he stopped. But what Daphne has told him, awoke in him the need for search once again.

He knows it’s not someone who actively took the pictures, but stumbled across them on Daphne’s phone. Someone who had access to her phone, even if for a moment. Which isn’t a lot but still more than Lucas has ever had on this person.

There’s also one more thing that has been bothering Lucas. If it’s not personal, did this person contact the guy he kissed, too? If so, does he know something more?

Lucas knows these leads are too vague and shitty, but he isn’t a professional investigator, but a sixteen-year-old desperately wanting to know the truth.

Considering Lucas met the guy at two different parties, he connects the dots and reaches the conclusion that there is no way none of his friends wouldn’t have him somewhere on their social media.

He spends around two hours tracing the guy and jumps through at least two different social media platforms, but eventually, he manages it. God, if only he had had the same resolve after their make-out session. He could have a boyfriend now.

Lucas scrolls through a couple of the boy’s pictures, just to make sure it’s him. Thank God he met him twice. He wouldn’t be able to recognise him from the memory of his lips only. Lucas was drunk and there wasn’t a lot of light. The second time definitely got engraved in his mind, though. Also, the boy is cute. Lucas can see why he wanted to kiss him. But he isn’t sure it was worth all the mess that followed.

He feels weird, typing out the message. He doesn’t know the dude and their last encounter was less than pleasant. He can only hope the guy doesn’t hold grudges.

Then, right before sending the text, Lucas realises that this boy may not even remember him and is filled with a sudden wave of embarrassment. Maybe he shouldn’t bother?

Lucas shakes his head. This may be a lead to the blackmailer.

Hey, I don’t know if you remember but we made out at a party once. Ik its weird reaching out to you dw no hidden motives but I was blackmailed and outed bc someone took pics of us kissing. I just wanted to ask if they tried to get to you too

Lucas hits send and lets out a heavy sigh, his heart hammering in his chest. He thinks he managed to sound okay. He made it clear that he didn’t stalk the guy he once kissed but had important business. Now, the hope lays in the possibility that this boy isn’t a complete jerk.

He keeps staring at the nearly empty chat for a few minutes, hoping to get the reply soon. Anticipating it strongly. But by the time around five minutes have passed, his nerves have calmed down and there’s still no answer, he deflates. Maybe the guy isn’t online. Lucas should occupy himself with something else. He can’t just keep glaring at his phone.

Lucas does the unexpected and busies himself with homework, groaning loudly when he realises just how far behind he is. After trying – and failing – he moves onto other tasks. He gathers his laundry, cleans up his room and goes to the living room where Lisa is napping and Mika is watching something on the TV. Lucas is glad Manon isn’t there because he still hasn’t figured out how to act around the girls with the Daphne issue.

Lucas tries to get into whatever is on the TV to no avail. He’s too distracted. Mika keeps sending him annoyed looks when he notices just how jittery Lucas is.

“Just what exactly has got into you?” he asks after Lucas can’t keep still for one minute.

“I’m waiting,” he says vaguely, sending Mika an apologetic smile. Mika raises one of his eyebrows and his eyes fall on Lucas’ hands that he entwined to stop them from moving.

“Something good?”

“We’ll see,” Lucas replies and stands up. He deliberately left his phone back in his bedroom as not to check it every few seconds and now he regrets it. Mika doesn’t say anything to him, only watches him with curiosity.

Lucas is glad, it’d be hard to explain what is going on.

Much to his disappointment, there isn’t any notification from the guy and the message still hasn’t been read. Lucas pouts and goes to the kitchen to eat something.

After that, he still manages to do a few things that keep him occupied. By the time it’s evening, he’s already lost all the hope and is watching videos on YouTube when his phone vibrates with the new notification.

He jumps in place and clicks on the communicate so hard it’s a miracle he hasn’t left a dent in the screen.

hey hey yeah I remember I remember everyone who rejected me jksfjds but no no one has texted me man that sucks. are you okay?

Lucas purses his lips into a thin, tight line. It’s hard to hide his disappointment. Why was only he targeted by the blackmailer? Maybe because his face was the most visible in the pictures, but still. Could it be that the blackmailer knows him, but not the boy he kissed? So maybe it was personal. After all, they had Lucas’ number. Unless they stole that from Daphne, too.

He clicks his tongue, rereading the reply. He blushes, yes, he did reject him. It was out of fear, but the fact stands – a boy wanted to kiss him again and Lucas said no. They are basically strangers but Lucas still wants to apologise for that. Considering the boy’s question, should he be honest? Or brush it off and say it’s fine?

Sorry for rejecting you I wasn’t in the best place then Ugh so I guess I’m out of leads again altho I’m glad I was the only one targeted I’m getting better but had some troubles

Lucas figures out that reply is okay. He isn’t pouring his heart out, but isn’t exactly pretending nothing has happened. They talk for a little while and Lucas thinks, it’s nice. The guy tells him that if Lucas ever needs something he can hit him up and despite the fact that Lucas hasn’t got much that would help him with the blackmailer, he doesn’t feel that defeated. Quite the contrary, there is a lot of resolve in him.

He will find out who ruined his life, one way or another.

***

“Hi, mom. How is it going?” Lucas asks, toeing his shoes off. He nods at Mika as he’s crossing the distance to his room and is met with a grin.

“Everything’s fine, but my neighbour. Oh, God. She’s so obnoxious and keeps singing opera. I can’t stand her,” his mom complains, heaving out a loud sigh. Lucas snorts as he enters his bedroom and goes straight for his bed.

“Have you tried asking her to tone it down?” he suggests, staring at his ceiling.

The school was hard today. He had a test he was pretty much unprepared for and the problem with Daphne has been gnawing at him all the time. He still isn’t sure whether he should let the others know.  Isn’t that an issue between the two of them? Besides, if he makes this fact known, people will start picking sides. He isn’t that worried about the boys, but the girls? They will be divided. And hanging out together will become troublesome. God, at this point Lucas regrets she’s even told him.

“Are you there?”

Lucas snaps out of his thoughts. “Yeah, yeah, I’m listening,” he blurts out.

“Then what was I saying just now?”

Lucas opens his mouth to reply, searching his brain for an answer but comes up blank. “Okay, I lost it.” His mom huffs.

“I said that yes, I did ask her but she said it helps in her therapy.”

“That’s… unfortunate,” Lucas says dumbly.

“Okay, I can hear you thinking all the way from there. What’s on your mind?”

Lucas sits up abruptly. “Let’s say you get caught kissing a boy by someone and they blackmail you for months and then out you. You’re in a big, supportive friend group. Then, one of the girls comes to you and tells you she snapped the pictures that were later used to give you hell. Do you tell the rest?” Lucas says all in one breath.

His mom hums thoughtfully. “Oddly specific,” she states sarcastically and makes Lucas chuckle. “Does no one else know?”

“I told Eliott because I couldn’t deal with it alone,” Lucas says. He still isn’t sure why exactly he chose Eliott and not Yann. He kind of feels like he betrayed his best friend. Maybe he should at least tell him?

“You two have sure grown close. Didn’t you start off as enemies?” she asks, not really answering Lucas’ question. He falls back on his pillow and puts his forearm over his eyes.

“It was me being a jealous prick and him trying to become my friend. I’ve matured,” Lucas declares. He can’t really tell his mom they smoke weed together and that’s how Lucas’ animosity died down. “So what would you do?”

“It’s a tough situation. In the ideal scenario, she would come clean by herself. Own up to her mistakes. But I suppose it’s not happening?”

“I doubt it.”

“If not telling bothers you this much, you should let the closest people know. It’ll take some weight off your shoulders.”

“I thought you’d tell me something about how I should forgive her because Jesus said so,” Lucas jokes. He knows he shouldn’t mix his mom’s religious beliefs up with this but he can’t help it. It’s what he’s used to.

“Well, forgiveness should happen only if you really forgive someone and I don’t think you feel like doing it. She caused you so much pain, even if indirectly. Sometimes, you should be allowed not to forgive,” his mom says quietly and Lucas wonders if she’s ever forgiven his father. If she struggles with it because she is supposed to forgive, but everything bad that’s ever happened overshadows it. “I love God and Jesus, but sometimes I disagree. I’m only human and can’t forgive every single person. Neither should you,” she adds after a minute or two.

Yeah, Lucas doesn’t think he could do it even if he wanted to. That wound runs too deep.

“Thank you, mom,” he says, clutching the phone in his palm.

“I hope it helped a bit.”

“It did.” He smiles under his nose and drags a hand down his face. “Ah,” he perks up, “I’ve decided to go to the police. About the beating up. But I’ll need an adult. Will you go with me?” he asks. Lucas hopes his mom will agree, otherwise he’d have to ask his father and it’s the last thing he wants to do. It took him a lot to even make this decision.

Arthur was delighted when Lucas told him about it and promised to go with him. Lucas still isn’t sure about it, but he thinks that if he doesn’t stand up now, he never will. He’s also going to ask whether the blackmail thing could be reported as well – after all, he’s got the whole proof of the crime, just not the criminal.

“Of course, Lucas. Just let me know when.”

“Friday? I’ll send you more details later.”

“Okay.”

***

Lucas is scribbling down an answer when a certain thought comes to his mind. He steals a glance at Imane. She seems very engrossed in the task, as should he. Too bad he’s going to interrupt her.

He taps her with his pencil and her eyes shoot up to his face, her expression exasperated.

“Yes?”

Lucas scratches the sides of his neck with the end of his pencil, trying to find the correct words. “I know it’s hard to remember but have you ever been at a party and Daphne was really fucking wasted?” he asks, realising halfway through just how dumb he sounds. He doesn’t want to tell Imane the truth per se, but he has the subtlety of an elephant and he isn’t sure whether he’s able to pull it off without letting anything slip out.

“Literally every single party since I’ve known her,” Imane deadpans.

“The party right before you all started working on the common room and we became partners?” He hopes that will ring the bell. Lucas doesn’t even know if Imane was at that party, but it’s safe to assume that since Daphne was, Imane could have been as well.

She frowns and tilts her head to the side. “What about it?”

“Do you remember anything?” he asks, hoping his tone masks his emotions well.

“Not really? Not anything specific. Why?”

“It was the party the pictures were taken at. I guess the blackmailer was present,” Lucas explains, resigned and goes back to his exercise. If he doesn’t want to go into any more details, he should stop there. Imane has a way of figuring things out.

“And it’s connected to Daphne? How?” Yup, there it is.

Lucas sighs. “Drop it,” he mutters. He thought that if something remarkable had happened then, involving someone else, then he’d have a lead. He needs to narrow down the suspects, otherwise he can as well accuse the entirety of Paris.

Lucas is aware his search is long postponed, that he should have done it when everything was much fresher, but the thing is, sometimes he lacks rational thinking. Back then he was also really fucking terrified and was on the verge of becoming paranoid. As of now, he’s able to reflect on things with a clear mind.

“Lucas,” Imane starts warningly and Lucas looks towards her once again. There’s concern in her eyes and that’s the last thing he wanted to cause. She has already spent enough time worrying about him, there is no need in adding up more of it.

“Doesn’t matter. Really,” he assures her, putting on a smile.

“You can’t just start something and then not tell me. What did Daphne do?” Imane asks, scowling at him.

“Quiet. You’re supposed to be doing your exercises, not chatting up your partner. There are breaks for that,” the teacher butts in and Lucas nods vigorously, going back to his notebook. He was saved this time. Small mercies, even if the expression on Imane’s face he can see out of the corner of his eye is telling him they’re not finished.

Imane’s next words only confirm it. “When this class is over, we’re talking.”

Unfortunate because as soon as the bell rings, Lucas is out of the classroom so quickly it’s a miracle he doesn’t trip over his own feet.

***

Eliott has hands. That’s an observation Lucas makes watching Eliott play with a rubber band during lunch on Thursday. Eliott is doing it subconsciously, while he is talking with the rest. His movements are swift. He’s already finished his meal and Lucas has no clue where the rubber band came from, but he’s fascinated by the fingers stretching it out or twirling it around.

Lucas isn’t eating anymore, just idly dragging his fork around the remnants on his plate. He’s got his head propped up on his palm and every once in a while he lets out a sigh.

Eliott has hands and Lucas would know since he touched them on countless occasions. More than once he held them in his own. How come has he never paid much attention, though? The fingers are slender and Eliott’s nails seem pristine. From only looking, one could assume they are rough and calloused, but Lucas remembers clearly that’s not the case. They are soft and gentle.

Big, too.

Lucas sighs again and reaches out for his soda. He takes a sip and from the corner of his eye notices Arthur watching him. Lucas glances at him and arches an eyebrow but Arthur only shakes his head and waves him away. Lucas shrugs and places his drink back on the table. His eyes jump back to Eliott. He’s stopped fiddling with the rubber band. It’s around his left wrist now. His fingers are tapping on the table.

Tap, tap.

Lucas’ eyes slide up and pause at Eliott’s throat. Its muscles are moving as Eliott keeps talking and laughing. Lucas gulps and lets his eyes wander higher, right to Eliott’s lips.

Eliott’s got pretty lips. This makes Lucas remember a certain embarrassing dream he pushed very deep into the back of his mind and he takes his eyes off Eliott’s lips just as quickly as they settled there. It seems like entering into dangerous territory. Better not feed Lucas’ imagination with any imageries.

He ends up on Eliott’s eyes and finds them looking right back at him.

Lucas sits up straighter, feeling his whole body flush with warmth.

Eliott smiles at him and Lucas, trying to play it cool, grins back. He’s just been caught red-handed staring at Eliott. Lucas wants to die.

He keeps his grin for the few seconds that Eliott’s gaze stays on him and right after Eliott moves his attention to Basile, Lucas’ expression drops and it takes all of his willpower not to hide his face in his hands.

What the fuck. He must be so red. He knows he is, he can feel his cheeks burning. His heart beating rapidly in his chest isn’t helping either. God.

“So we need to take care of that mural,” Basile says and Lucas thanks heavens there is something to ground him so he won’t lose his shit. He can’t freak out if he has to take part in a civil conversation, right?

“Do we?” Eliott asks and every single one of them looks at him with confusion. His shoulders draw up.

“Weren’t you the one who was the most excited about it?” Arthur raises an eyebrow at Eliott.

“People change,” Eliott says matter-of-factly. “Why even bother?”

“You know, it’s the common room. Unity, friendship, respect. Daphne really cares about it,” Yann replies, shrugging.

Eliott clicks his tongue. “Oh, yeah, because Daphne is all about friendship and respect,” he lets out bitterly.

Eliott is still pissed off on Lucas’ behalf. For some reason it makes Lucas’ heart flutter.

“Um, did something happen?” Yann asks, frowning.

Eliott briefly glances up at Lucas before moving his gaze to some neutral area. “I just don’t really care much about what’s important to Daphne, that’s all.”

Lucas could kiss him right now.

(Platonically, of course.)

“Dude, what happened? Didn’t you have so many ideas for it?” Basile chimes in.

“I still like this whole concept. Just not Daphne,” Eliott replies calmly. It’s apparent that the guys have no idea what to think about Eliott’s behaviour. He doesn’t show animosity towards anyone, he was the nicest guy even when Lucas acted like a dick towards him. No wonder the boys are this shocked, especially since Eliott got really involved in this thing.

“But did she do something? I know Daphne can be a lot but why be this harsh?” Arthur asks and Yann nods while Basile lets out a ‘yeah’.

Eliott seems uncomfortable and he fidgets in his seat. He doesn’t look like he wants to take his words back, but his pose screams anxious. He isn’t even making any eye-contact with them. Lucas curls his hand into a fist.

“Daphne took the pictures that the blackmailer used against me,” Lucas says and sees how the tension seeps off Eliott in an instant. He was fighting for Lucas’ sake and probably didn’t expect Lucas to say anything, but Lucas couldn’t leave him alone.

“No way,” Basile says after a few beats of awkward silence.

“You’re shitting us, right?” Arthur adds, his tone baffled.

Lucas shakes his head. “I wish. She told me last Friday,” Lucas mutters and looks towards Yann. The realisation flashes across his face and he nods. He must remember the exact moment Daphne asked Lucas to stay. “She didn’t blackmail me, but still. If not for her, I wouldn’t be in this shit. I only told Eliott, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to make things worse for her by telling anyone else so,” he explains weakly and looks over their faces.

“No wonder Eliott was this angry,” Basile comments and Lucas bites down on his bottom lip.

Eliott is the only one he initially told about it and then Eliott showed his solidarity without letting anything on to the boys. Lucas wonders how it all looks to them. He hopes they don’t feel like he doesn’t trust them.

Arthur groans and threads his fingers through his hair. “That situation is fucked up. And we still promised to paint that damn mural to the girls. Fuck.”

“At this point, I don’t want to have anything to do with Daphne either,” Yann says, displeasure painted all over his face.

Yeah, they’ll have to work around it somehow.

***

Lucas is dreading the last bell on Friday, but when it does ring and he gets out of the classroom to see Arthur waiting for him, his nerves calm down, if only a little. He decided it was his and Arthur’s thing to do, kind of symbolic to their bond, and so the other guys simply told them to let them know how it goes.

The case is known to the police but Lucas will still have to talk about everything that happened, revisit painful memories and he’s so scared. He feels like he’s seven again and the fact his mom will be there is the only thing that makes him step forward.

Arthur keeps brushing Lucas’ arm every now and then and Lucas figures out it’s his way of showing support without words. Lucas is glad since he isn’t sure anything verbal would help him at the moment anyway.

“Hey, I have a question. You don’t have to say anything, though it’ll be an answer in itself,” Arthur says suddenly and Lucas frowns at him.

“Yeah?” Lucas’ palms get even clammier than they’ve been before.

“Do you have a crush on Eliott? Or like, are you guys together?” Arthur asks, his cheeks getting pink.

Lucas misses a step but recovers quickly and continues walking. “No? Why are you asking?” For him, that question doesn’t make sense. Eliott is the one crushing.

Arthur chuckles and shrugs one of his shoulders. “It would explain a lot. Like, I don’t know, I was just thinking that you hating him back then might have been some sort of pulling at his ponytails thing. Like middle schoolers do. And you are so close now. You even tell him things before us. Besides, I saw you staring at him a lot. So it got me thinking. I guess I was wrong, yeah?” he asks, stealing a glance at Lucas. He looks embarrassed now. To the point, he probably can’t see the bewilderment on Lucas’ face.

God, Arthur noticed Lucas staring at Eliott. Way to go, Lucas, way to go.

Lucas lets out a nervous chuckle and shakes his head. “We just get along, that’s all,” he says, gazing at the pavement.

“I see. Sorry for jumping to conclusions. I suppose my disillusioned ass just sees things it wants to see,” Arthur jokes.

“Why would you want to see me and Eliott together?” Lucas asks and realises too late that it’s a bad question. Something deep inside Lucas tells him that he shouldn’t want to know the answer.

“It’s not about you two, but like, I’m gay so I want to see some gay love, you get me? And I think you two could be cute together. Sorry if it sounds weird. I just thought I saw something that wasn’t there,” he says, sending Lucas an apologetic smile. “Anyways, we’ve arrived,” he adds, abandoning the topic and nods straight ahead.

Indeed, Lucas can see the police station and the silhouette of his mom standing by the entrance.

Lucas clenches his jaw. He can do it.

[lunasaturnine]

Vienna and cultural trauma

WOW so cool to sign into tumblr and see 99+ notifications, and think “oh a post got some attention,” but it’s actually just general attention!

My astro blog is ready for some action! Or maybe ppl are just bored bc of the quarantine. Either way, it would be cool to write.

I want to write about VIENNA.

I just took a course about somatic healing of trauma and it gave me a good overview of how trauma recovery works. Chapter 1 of trauma recovery is gathering resources. Chapter 2 is dipping or oscillating back into the memory, whether it’s a clear memory or just something held hidden in your body, with your new resources, and allowing circles to complete. Chapter 3 is being bigger bigger brighter in the world !!! (It’s a nice course, it’s on somatopia.com, it costs $40 if you have that to throw around, it’s like 2 hours of videos of a nice man talking in a soothing voice in intelligent language about healing from trauma)

Now I’m thinking about cultural trauma and Vienna. I have long felt that helping to heal the Hitler wound of Vienna is one of my soul’s major dharmic thrusts. So I googled “healing cultural trauma” and most resources out there talk about the trauma of the victim culture. That kind of trauma is totally different, because it recommends amplifying the traditions and greatnesses of the culture, and when you’re a cultural perpetrator of violence, amplifying the greatness of your culture is a trigger because cultural superiority is what lead your culture to be violent. But there are still a lot of resources with a lot of valuable information. I’ve only skimmed a couple things so far and it seems like one thing people emphasize in cultural healing is human connectedness.

The internet is a little hard to navigate on this topic, but I found an NYT editorial called “I loved my grandmother but she was a Nazi.” The author’s sweet grandma was literally a Nazi but she was a nice person who didn’t hate Jews. When the author talked to her about it, she would deflect. “He said a lot of things, I didn’t listen to them all” and “I was caught up in my own life” etc. The author says, that’s bullshit, there’s something she’s avoiding, and I can’t understand what it is or why she’s doing it, and I’m hesitant to say this because it might seem like I’m trying to forgive Naziism but I’m really just trying to understand who I look at when I look at my grandmother. It’s the most direct address of the West’s Nazi wound that I’ve found in my two and a half minutes of searching on google and I think it’s on the nose.

In the readmore are my more concrete thoughts on potential resources for Western/German/Viennese healing, and thoughts about what working through phase 2 would look like for a perpetrator culture.

Resources

On this reddit post:

https://www.reddit.com/r/history/comments/5nfqwp/my_grandmother_grew_up_in_nazi_germany/

there are some resources. First of all, 1. there are people from diverse backgrounds respective to WWII, coming together and talking as equals in the same kind of “room.” The descendants of the persecuted and the persecutors are together and they are not enemies. The knowledge, and SOMATIC FEELING EXPERIENCE, of that, can be  a resource. I am typing over this brusquely and that’s Mercury magic for you and you should know that I just burst into sobs. That in just a couple of generations, the grandsons and daughters of enemies can be together and not hate each other and even love each other is an immense resource and can be leaned into at any point. There is a vast well of cultural relief available here. My tears are thankful, grateful tears, tears of relief. I am thinking of the parks in vienna that are holocaust memorial parks. I am thinking of that horrible statue out in front of the Albertina that is a memorial to cultural violence but at the same time, also represents the trapped soul of the Perpetrator culture, since we are all One. In the same way that a piece of music which opens with a terrifying chord represents both the terror experienced by the terrorized, and the menace of the terrorizer, AND THE FEELINGS IN THE terrorizer that caused them to generate this chord... off on a tangent, and I’m not sobbing anymore! That was crazy. I have a tendency to lock my feelings up, but being alone in this house and in this quarantine, I can open up locked wells of feeling like that.

That resource is IMMENSE, and it’s RIGHT in front of our faces all the time. I took a class on 20th century germany in undergrad, and the professor was a young guy with a Nazi grandfather, well I’m not sure if he was a Nazi but he was a German soldier, and he remarked on it. And I think at the time I thought “how lovely” but if you sit with that feeling, it’s deep as hell. And if you sit with it from the perspective of a penitent perpetrator, it’s REALLY FUCKING DEEP.

So that’s available. Im gonna post this real quick as a way of saving the draft but I have more ideas.

Okay. Continuing,

Resource 2 also from reddit post

The top respondent says his German POW uncle had a British GF. That’s similar to the first resource, but more immediate. I’m sure there are lots of stories like that. Intercultural experience that nullifies certain tensions

Resource 3 also from reddit post

The stories of people who did do the right thing... maybe. I dont know. I’ll get off this post soon but it’s interesting. Idk if this counts as a resource, it’s kind of a tangent, but the more I learn about karma and trans-life inheritance of it, the more it seems true that it really is better to die living in line with your beliefs than to live safely. Like the person in Pweuy’s post. That father died but his karma was pristine as far as this was concerned and perpetrator trauma did not cling to him.

ok jesus this is an interesting post... the girl skipping over the river of blood as it trickled out of the asylum... the hitler youth boy befriending a lamb and the nazis slaughtering it in front of him... the russian soldier who guarded the german girl because she reminded him of her daughter...

Okay. Before I go on, I want to clarify that I am not specifically talking about people who held Nazi beliefs in their core. There is a special type of perpetrator injury that is specific to that kind of thing, true villains and terrorists. I’m talking more about “ordinary Germans” who didn’t think very hard and got swept along, moderate supporters to moderate resisters. As a culture, they were moved by the tides into Naziism. They have culpability, but not the exact same kind of culpability as perpetrator people. The culture moved to perpetrate these crimes, and they were a part of that culture. That’s the specific kind of wound I’m interested in healing. There is a poster on that page whose grandma really loved Hitler...

Ok! I spent a lot of my energy in that page, now its 10PM and I still have veggies to prepare. I need energy for this next thing I was going to talk about.

Resource 4 - this one specific coffee shop

I’m putting *s in its name because I like this blog anonymous. P*****n is a coffee shop in Vienna that is the only happy place I went. There were places that were ok... and fine... maybe pleasant... but this place was American levels of happy. Waiters danced around and were actually relaxed and happy. P*****n’s theme is intergenerational communication. It hires grandmothers to work behind the counter, and make pies, and you’re supposed to buy a slice of their pie and talk to them a bit. And then the waiters are young, and they communicate with the Omas. And the Omas are maybe not old enough to have been Nazis but their parents were.

They also include a bit in all their menus about intergenerational dialogue and wondering what more they can do and how they can be more of a space for it.

I had MANY genuinely pleasant little experiences there... and I think that little space that some person with a vision made, is a blossoming flowerpot with lots of healing energy where true dialogue could happen. So that could be a resource too. The happiness of that place. In fact, these conversations could happen there.

But I wouldn’t want to break the space. The course I just took talked about titration, which is just accessing a TINY part of the traumatic memory, so you don’t get overwhelmed. This is a very icy fucked up conversation for a lot of people. My Viennese friend told me to talk more quietly about it than I was. Actually I did talk about it there with some people! The German girl was surprised that I thought Vienna had a wound. So was the Irish girl actually. For other people it’s really evident. My Viennese friend. D**n. Rf: “it’s ALL I feel when I am there.” ME. God that conversation was sooo gentle and sweet and light. The Irish girl was wondering if she should move to Vienna or stay in Barcelona, and the three of us talked about Vienna nd it was SOOOOO LOVELY, holy BALLS.

But even if we don’t hold conversations there exactly, that could be a really good place for conversation to start. I could reach out to the people who run the shop to ask them about it. And then maybe conversations could happen in other places (don’t want to spoil the sweetness of the shop).

Resource 5 - personal as I investigate maybe not really a resource - but yes maybe it is a resource: Grounded, comfortable people who are Viennese, and who understand the goals and also understand the sensitivities of Viennese people more than I do; 

Resource 6 - people who are experts at cultural healing in victim cultures

Resource 7 - fostering dialogue between those two parties, also me.

Again I’m really playing fast and loose with the idea of resources. Maybe. We’re starting to move into phase 2, also, because with this dialogue, I want to open up some scripts for how to TITRATE sensitively.

phase 2

For instance, notice that I didn’t say something like “Remembering Vienna’s amazing heritage of incredible music that has the power to redeem and heal equal to and more accessibly than religions.” I think it’s true that Viennese music is a major healing resource (BEETHOVENSCHUBERTMOZARSKLTBSLJRTHBLEWSKJNS:OFDFD), but since it is bound up in Viennese identity, that notion is complex. Also, it’s not only that Viennese identity is nasty because it’s nazi and therefore that gives Schubert etc a dark tint, but also, the grand things that Vienna has contributed to western culture are now a part of Vienna’s current wound of degradation, cheapification, and humiliation by TOURISM. although I will say that I think Resource 8 should be MY OWN deep internalization of the healing power of Viennese music. Posting again to save...

...not only does that music help me be healed, but it also helps me understand healing process in the specific language of the culture i’m interested in

okay.  Phase 2. 

A picture of what I think sorta needs to happen

I think Omas that say “It was just a lot of talk, we ignored it” and “I was busy in my life”... I think what needs to happen for a perp culture is for them to actually own their part in the villainy, to claim it and stand in it and feel the pain, and say “I’m SORRY, this was HORRIBLE, I AM SORRY.” THIS WILL ALLOW THEM TO BECOME NEW!!!!!!!

That’s a v different healing process from like native american healing etc.

I really think somatic approach is a better road in than cognitive because, god, imagine cognizing all of this HORRIBLE SIN bit by bit knowing your culture perpetrated it and not having anyone to blame it on. Jesus.

How might the process of getting there look?

This is vague especially now that I don’t have that burst of energy. Conversations...

Here’s a question. After resource gathering.

“Knowing that bells rang for Hitler in Vienna, how does it feel to be Viennese?” IN YOUR BODY?

Damn THAT’S GOOD! THAT’S THE FUNDAMENTAL QUESTION. How does it feel to be Viennese? The goal is for it to feel OK.

Um, speaking specifically about Wiener trauma and their welcoming of Hitler, a few years ago, I read this in some guidebook, Vienna’s government acknowledged that they welcomed Hitler and that they were wrong, and investigating that is important for my mission. It’s cool because 1. it’s a Big Ol Step and 2. it lays groundwork for all of this.

Step 3 is really beautiful to think about. In the course I took, it’s where the instructor got out of his soothing calm neutral demeanor and started speaking passionately and bursting with smiles.

In addition to being able to be more firmly grounded in their own individual and cultural identities...

Okay, so, I’m drawn to this because I’m drawn to it, punkt. That’s all. But also, and I think I’m really late on the uptake here, I think I was due in Vienna many years ago, I think that whatever work I do in Vienna is helpful for the echoes of Naziism in today’s world, such as Trumpism (which does not...exactly... have the same kinds of premises but uses a lot of the same kinds of mecahnisms) and actual brazen nationalism, white supremicism, and far right movements. Hitler is a LOUD and REVERBERANT figure in our history for this kind of energy, and if we can do healing surrounding him, re-discovering resilience in the moderates, helping them go through the emotional journey they need to go through, they will be a beautiful resonant horn call from the past, a solid core of NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! that will strengthen the culture of the entire FUCKING world.

Music will be a part of it.

I have always loved Vienna, and I can’t really analyze it. I love it like a girlfriend. I know she’s problematic. And she can be really really horrible.

The wound is deep. The horribleness, the life negating quality not only of the FUCKING WRETCHED SHOP CLERKS, but also of the WAY -- THINGS -- HAPPEN, of the overall weird ass SPIRIT in Vienna, is... God DAMN WHY do I like that city so much? It’s bizarre. It’s very pervasive. I don’t enjoy experiencing it, I don’t think it’s attractive, I don’t like it. I love Vienna THROUGH that wound. I REALLY LOVE Vienna. That’s one of the clearest things that I know in my heart. I love Vienna... and that’s the whole story. It’s one of the easiest things for me to say.

Lots of people love a city. We do it for reasons. I think our hearts are drawn where they are drawn because we are attracted to healing the specific karmas of places. The karma of my hometown is mainly racial, with native american underneath. The coffee shop that is equivalent to P*****n serves often as a place of racial conversation and healing. It is actually pretty amazing. And once there was a white supremacist with a gun there and he stood up on a table and let people see his gun. He didn’t yell or anything. But that vital thing happened there in that coffee shop.

Excuse me I also love coffee shops and Vienna is the land of coffee shops.

Okay. I love Vienna! I literally love Vienna, with my heart. I love Vienna.

One last thing. I’m saving then editing...

The postscript: A major resource, and it kinda sidesteps some things, is language. It will be much better if German is spoken in these conversations. When I went to Vienna last, I didn’t prepare my German because when I went to Vienna first, everyone spoke English and it was simply easier to speak English all the time, so I figured I wouldn’t try to give the illusion and disappoint. But lo... the native people really, really resent it if you don’t even try to speak German. They actually seem to experience it as an injury. It is wild, if you’re not expecting it.

ALL OVER VIENNA I saw the Graffiti stamp/brand, “Tourism is terrorism.” 

When I was in the airport and the cute customs dudes asked me the purpose of my visit, I said “TOURISM” and they laughed. That was fun. But it was a lie. I was a pilgrim. I... know I was a tourist, technically. But I felt such hatred for the tourists standing like apes in front of the Schubert statue in the Stadtpark. Their wretched selfie smiles plastered on top of the emptiness of their experience. My purpose in Vienna had nothing in common with theirs. And I claim that I didn’t do a lot of the tourist things - not many museums or concerts or whatever.

One of my more pleasant memories was going into a used book shop and asking about a book in the window, a German-language edition of the tao te ching from 1923 (a very strange time). I asked in English. The clerk was confused and asked if I spoke German, and I answered in German that I spoke some German, but was learning, and knew the TTC very well, and that it’s simply usually easier to speak in English. I might have used imperfect German, but I felt dignified and natural doing it.

Ok, not only the German language, but the quiet Viennese demeanor of Scorpiness. Scorpscorpscorpscorp. Quiet, observant, emotional, and responsive to gentle tenderness and consideration, and traumatized by brashness. 

Both the spoken language, and the language of the demeanor, I think are somatic approaches that sidestep cognitive...things and make the culture feel unconsciously accepted and open.

On my first trip I learned howwwwww AMERICAN I was, and then on my second trip I opened myself up to my inner Wiener and was quiet and scorpy, and I felt warmth emerge from the people and city in response. It felt really right, and it felt like i was honoring...her, and it felt um sort of romantic. ha 

[emybain]

Total Fluff Where Nova Surprises Everyone

I previously posted something about a mother coming up to sketch’s team in public and asking them to hold her baby while she did something, and the baby is crying and all of that, and no one can calm them down except for nova, much to everyone’s surprise and amusement. I decided to write it because i have nothing better to do with my life. Im gonna say it takes place post-archenemies but pre-reveal so…. Here. 

Edit: Holy heck I did not mean for this to be so long Im so sorry. Warning: this is unedited bc im tired.

Nova’s eyes followed Adrian as he paced back and forth. They were in the lounge, waiting to be called in for a patrol shift. Oscar and Ruby were playing Battle to the Death, like they always did, and were volleying insults to one another. Danna was...well...stuck in swarm mode still. Nova’s stomach churned at the thought. Her butterflies had disappeared after the gala a couple of weeks ago, according to Adrian, and hadn’t made an appearance since. Nova was constantly checking her surroundings whenever she was alone to make sure that one of them wasn’t following her the way the one currently trapped in the room she shared with honey was. She tried to push down thoughts of Danna, and how if her trapped butterfly somehow got loose, it would all be over for Nova.

    Nova wanted nothing more than to be done with the Renegades, but she still had a mission. A mission that was supposed to have ended two weeks ago, had it not been for the arrest of her uncle, Ace Anarchy. This hero charade was running itself dry. Nova was back on track; her uncle’s arrest reminded her of that. She was expecting Leroy or Honey or Phobia to tell her any day now that she could put Nova McLain and Insomnia to rest. That she could become Nightmare, fully, again.

    She waited for that day with anticipation, fingers itching to grasp it. It was only a matter of time before the Renegades caught onto her game, also. Too many clues, too many reckless mistakes, had been left behind the night of the gala. Then, she had thought her time parading around as a Renegade was over. She hadn’t cared about what she did or the damage she left that would lead the Renegades busting down the door to her home and arresting her. She cared now. Every step, every maneuver, every breath, was taken with precaution. Even now, Nova’s eyes left Adrian’s pacing form to glance at the elevator doors, at the exit signs, at the room full of Renegades that could easily outnumber her. Every time the elevator buzzed open, she expected more experienced and higher up Renegades to come bursting in, armed with powers and weapons and handcuffs and Agent N specifically for Nova.

    Adrian passed her for the umpteenth time, and she grabbed his hand, which had been used to amplify his rant about Nightmare. She had only been half listening to him, as it was stuff she had heard a thousand times before, how much he hated her and how she would pay for what she did to Max.

    Max, who was currently hidden away in his quarantine. No one was allowed to visit him, not even Captain Chromium. After barely surviving being ran through with the chromium spear, and having to go through a surgery that lasted hours, Max had been transported back to his quarantine to avoid the media and to prevent prodigies from being affected by his power. He was on strict bed rest, and would be that way for many weeks. Nova’s heart tugged, and she longed to tell Adrian that it wasn’t Nightmare who almost killed Max, but Genissa Clark, who was no longer a Renegade after being tranquilized by Nova herself. However, there was no way for her to tell Adrian without revealing her true identity and ruining everything. Not that it would matter much if he knew the truth, anyways. He still hated Nightmare with a burning passion.

    Ironic, really.

    Adrian paused in his ranting, mid-sentence about how in the hell did Nightmare even have access to Agent N and how she was able to take down Frostbite’s entire team alone. Another thing that could trace itself back to Nova.

    Adrian looked down at their hands, mouth open slightly. He stopped pacing, finally, too surprised by her confidant gesture. Nova took the opportunity and pressed her luck more, covering the back of his hand with her other one, sandwiching his together between hers. She squeezed his hand softly with the one holding his palm and stroked his knuckles with the thumb on her other hand. She gazed up at him, trying to feign a worried face. She batted her eyelashes, opened her eyes a little wider, raised her eyebrows, pursed her lips. It wasn’t hard, as she was truly worried about him. About his obsession, his lack of sleep, his constant Nightmare this and Nightmare that. He was worrying himself sick over the same person he was letting hold his hand.

    “You need to stop, Adrian.” Nova insisted. “You’ve been going on about Nightmare ever since we set foot in here, and you’ve been obsessing over her ever since that night.” He flinched, down casting his eyes.

    “You don’t understand,” he muttered. “I have to find her, Nova. She tried to-”

    “I know.” Nova sighed, a little frustrated. She pushed down the negativity, though, and stopped her stroking to stand and nudge his chin so he would look at her. He jumped at the contact.  “You need to get your mind off of her.”

    Adrian tugged her closer, making Nova’s heart race. She ignored it. Mostly. “I’ve tried. It’s just...it’s hard to after what she did.”

    “I know,” Nova repeated. They were inches apart. For all Nova cared, they could be the only two people in that room. In the entire world. “How do you think I felt after my family..you know..” she trailed off, then shook her head. “I was angry for a long time, Adrian. I’m still angry, but there’s nothing I can do about it to change what happened.” When his eyes started to drift away from hers again, she placed a desperate hand on his chest. “Adrian, Max is still here. He was very lucky.”

    Adrian stared at her for so long that she shifted, feeling his eyes bore into her, making her feel bare. Then, he closed his eyes, let out a slow breath, and pulled the hand that was still holding his to his lips. The soft press of his kiss on the back of her hand was so intimate that it sent a shock through Nova’s body. She felt her cheeks light up. He held her hand there for a second, then pulled back, letting their entwined hands fall between them. She instantly missed the contact, even though they were still holding one another.

    “You’re right,” he finally said, with a slight nod.

    Nova pressed a smile to her lips. It was tight. “I have an idea: let’s take a walk. Maybe go to the park? They clearly don’t need us here right now if we haven’t been called in yet, and if they do, we’ll get a message through our communication bands.”

    Adrian seemed to ponder it for a moment, then nodded again, this time firmly. “Alright. Should we tell Oscar and Ruby, or should we let them continue their bickering?”

    They both glanced over at the pair, who had moved onto another arcade game that Nova was unfamiliar to. It looked like some sort of racing game, with seats and steering wheels. Ruby was trying to mess Oscar up by swiping at his steering wheel, causing his car to veer off-course. He cursed her and swatted at her hand, shoving her away, although not harshly. Ruby cackled, trying to do it again while controlling her own wheel, but Oscar was able to keep her away this time. He kept glancing at her, and if it was out of precaution or affection or both, Nova had no clue. She shook her head.

    “I think they need some fresh air, too.”

    Nova and Adrian trailed behind Oscar and Ruby, hand in hand. Oscar must’ve made a bad joke, because he threw his head back laughing while Ruby groaned, face palming. Nova caught a glimpse of a smile on her face, however. She also noticed Oscar’s failed attempts to reach for her hand, as Ruby was animated and used her hands whenever she spoke. A pang of sympathy went through Nova for Oscar.

    “When are they going to get together,” Nova said under her breath, shooting a smile to Adrian. He chuckled and shook his head.

    “When they decide to fess up to each other.”

    “So never?”

    “Probably.”

    Nova shook her head, watching the two in front of them. She thought back to her conversation with Oscar back at the gala. He really was charming, despite, well, everything he did. And it was clear that Ruby liked him back; he was just too in-denial to see it.

    A breeze blew through, sending goosebumps down Nova’s arm. The weather was starting to turn, becoming chillier every day. The issued Renegade’s uniform wasn’t exactly made with material for winter. Nightmare’s disguise would’ve kept her warm, she thought smugly.

    Ahead, Oscar and Ruby slowed to a stop and looked behind them, waiting for Nova and Adrian to catch up. When they did, the four of them started walking again.

    “Have either of you heard anything from Danna?” Ruby asked, worry lacing her tone. “Oscar and I were just discussing that, and how her swarm won’t fair well with this weather.”

    Adrian shook his head. “No. Nothing since the gala, when I last messaged her.”

    “Yeah, we haven’t heard anything since we saw her butterflies at the cathedral.” Ruby shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.

    Nova opened her mouth, about to feign having not seen her either, when a young woman with a crying baby in her arms rushed over to them. The group stopped, all four surprised.

    “Excuse me,” the woman said, clearly stressed. “I’m sorry to ask you this, but there are no other mother’s around, and I saw the uniforms. Can you watch my daughter for me for like five minutes? My son just ran off and I can’t catch him while holding her.”

    Adrian was the first to speak. “Of course, ma’am.” He smiled at her pleasantly. “Do you need any help finding your son?”

    Relief swept over the woman’s features. “No, I know where he’s going, I just need to grab him before he gets there or I’ll be in huge trouble. He’s done this dozens of times that I know his route and how fast he goes, so it won’t take long.” She hurried forward and pushed the baby into Adrian’s arms, forcing him to let go of Nova’s hand, much to her dismay. “Thank you so much! I’ll be back in a minute!” The woman waved a hand over her shoulder as she dashed off in mad pursuit of her rogue son, shouting his name.

    Adrian looked to Nova, then to Ruby, then Oscar, panic written all over his face. His shoulders were stiff, and he held the baby at a distance from himself, awkward. The baby continued to cry, harder than before now that she was separated from her mother.

    “Help,” was all Adrian said. Nova’s mouth twitched, and she bit her cheek to keep from smiling. It was too comical.

    Oscar was less nice about keeping it in, and bust out laughing. Adrian glared at him. Ruby rolled her eyes and stepped forward, muttering about how useless boys were. She took the baby from Adrian’s arms without question, cradling her close to her chest and making shushing sounds. She bounced a little on the balls of her feet, rocking back and forth.

    The baby continued to cry, fisting her hands against Ruby’s uniform.

    After a minute, Ruby looked up with the same panicked expression as Adrian. “I don’t know what’s wrong,” she stammered out, “I used to hold my brothers all the time when they were babies, and I could usually get them to stop crying. Oscar?”

    Oscar backed up, eyes wide. “Hell no. I love kids as much as anyone, but me holding a baby is bad luck.”

    Ruby groaned, shifting the infant in her arms.

    Nova had an idea. A terrible idea, really, but one that would work. She debated for a bit, arms crossed and biting her lip, then stepped forward, arms outstretched.

    “Give her to me.” She beckoned for Ruby to place the crying child in her arms. Ruby looked at Nova as if she had grown a second head. Adrian and Oscar held similar gazes.

    Nova’s face reddened at the staring. Her jaw tightened in defense. “What? I had a baby sister. I knew how to calm her better than my parents.” It wasn’t a complete lie. She spent multiple nights using her power on Evie to keep her quiet in their tiny apartment.

    Ruby hesitated, then sighed, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe what she was about to do. She placed the baby in Nova’s waiting arms, unfurling her little fists from her uniform. Nova held the infant close to her chest, cradling her beneath the head. Her pudgy face was scrunched up and scarlet from crying. It didn’t look like she would be giving up anytime soon, either.

    Nova glanced at the others, who were watching her closely. With a great sigh, and a small tinge of regret for what she was about to do, Nova cleared her throat. Her Papà used to sing her and Evie to sleep when they were having rough nights. She distinctly remembered one lullaby that always got her to fall asleep quickly. And if that didn’t work on this baby, well, she had her power.

    Reluctantly, Nova opened her mouth, and sang.

“Ninna nanna, ninna oh

Questo bimbo a chi lo dò?

Ninna nanna, ninna oh

Questo bimbo a chi lo dò?”

    Out of the corner of her eye, Nova saw Oscar’s jaw drop. He elbowed Adrian roughly, whispering. Blushing furiously, Nova turned her back to them, swaying from side to side to the rhythm of the song.

“Se lo dò alla befana

se lo tiene una settimana

Se lo dò all’uomo nero

se lo tiene un anno intero.”

    The crying from the baby had stopped, thankfully, and the little girl’s eyes were open. Their deep brown orbs stared up at Nova in wonder, mouth open. Nova cracked a small smile, sad, as she thought of Evie.

“Se lo dò al lupo bianco

se lo tiene tanto tanto

Ninna nanna, nanna fate

Il mio bimbo addormentate.”

     The infant did not close her eyes as Nova had hoped. Instead, she reached up and tugged at Nova’s hair. Nova ignored this, remembering that Evie used to do the same thing. She started the lullaby again, doing a little dance now. She kept her back to her teammates, not daring to look at them. When she got near the end of the song, she let her power flow through her gently, like with Evie. She stroked the baby’s soft curls, smiling at her as the baby’s eyes grew droopy, then closed. The baby girl relaxed instantly, curling into Nova. Nova hummed the lullaby, pretending that she was still trying to get the baby to fall asleep as she turned to face three wide eyed Renegades, mouths opening and closing like fish out of water. She avoided their gazes, continuing to hum and rock and look at the baby’s features. The baby was pretty adorable when she wasn’t screaming her head off.

    “Thank you so much!” Nova looked up to see the mother, now sweaty and out of breath, coming towards them with a squirming toddler beside her. Nova could see how white the woman’s hands were from holding her son so tightly. He looked very proud of himself, mischief in his eyes. “Oh my goodness, you got her to fall asleep?” The mother gaped at Nova, then glanced down at her child, still fast asleep in Nova’s arms.

    Nova laughed nervously. “Um, yeah. I sang to her and she just passed out. I used to sing to my little sister all the time when she was a baby. She was always crying, and my parent’s could never get her to sleep. But, whenever I held her, she would fall asleep almost immediately.” A partial lie, but the stranger didn’t need to know that.

    “She hates going to sleep!” the woman exclaimed, still staring at her baby in wonder. “It takes me hours to get her to even close her eyes. You have a true gift!” She turned her attention to her son, made him promise to not run away again, let go of his hand, and took her daughter from Nova, slowly to avoid waking her. “If you ever need some extra money, I would love to have you as a babysitter.”

    Nova’s eyes widened, and she shook her head vigorously. “Oh! Um...I would love to, but...I..I’m already so busy with Renegade work and my studies and things at home.” She smiled sheepishly. “But thank you for the offer.”

    The woman’s expression fell for a moment, and Nova felt bad. But what was she to do? Nightmare becoming a babysitter was the last thing Nova needed, even if she could bring in some money for the Anarchists.

    “Well, okay. If you change your mind, my name is Liliana Hemmings. I walk through this park every day around this time, so feel free to come find me.” She smiled brightly then at all four of them, gratitude written across her features. “Thank you again so much for the help. It’s always good to know we can count on the Renegades. Have a nice day!” She waved to the four of them, and they all said their goodbyes. Nova bit her lip in irritation at her comment. No one should count on the Renegades. They only brought disappointment.

    Oscar whistled loudly, moving forward to clap an arm around Nova’s shoulders, which she pushed away instantly. He snorted, unbothered. “Well, would you look at that? Our vicious and antisocial little Nova not only knows how to rock a baby, but she can sing too!” Nova glared at him, then cast her eyes downward. When she didn’t reply, Oscar continued. “And did you guys hear that vibrato? I say she’s a solid soprano.”

    “Shut up, Oscar.” Nova rolled her eyes, annoyed, yet trying to keep a smile from blooming on her face.

    “No, but seriously, where did you learn all of that, Nova?” Ruby raised an eyebrow, amused.

    Nova shrugged, shrinking under so much attention. “My dad used to sing all the time in Italian. And like I already said, I used to help put my sister to sleep all the time because my parents always had a hard time.”

    They seemed to ponder this for a moment. Then, all of their communication bands went off.

    “Looks like they need us.” Ruby beckoned them. “C’mon, let’s head back.” She and Oscar started walking, and Nova was thankful, for the first and last time in history, for the Renegades for saving her from further embarrassment. She started to follow behind Oscar and Ruby, but was pulled back by Adrian. There was a teasing smile on his face that burned her cheeks, yet she still allowed him to pull her against him. He wrapped his arms around her waist confidently. Through their uniforms, she could feel his heart beating against hers.

    “You have a beautiful voice,” he murmured, moving a hand to cup her cheek. His hand was cool against its heat. “I had no idea you could sing.”

    “Oh, we’re being Mr. Suave now, are we?” Nova tried to keep a neutral voice, but she couldn’t hide the shaking in her tone. Adrian grinned, much to her frustration, pleased at the not-compliment. The hand still at her waist squeezed, and she bit her lip to keep from gasping. Her arms remained at her side, balled into fists. She would not be drawn into his antics.

    “I’m feeling much better because of you, Nova. I wanted to thank you.” His voice turned sincere, and he pulled her closer, tilting his head down. Nova’s eyes betrayed her, flitting down to his lips. She glanced back up at him.

    “You’re welcome,” she said, although it came out hoarse. She could feel Adrian’s breath on her chin. Unable to control herself anymore, Nova closed the space between them, pressing her lips against his. He grinned and returned the kiss, deepening it slightly.

    “We’re in public.” She pulled back slightly, just to have Adrian chase after her lips.

    “And?” He moved both his hands now to cup her face, kissing her tenderly. Nova wrapped her arms around his neck, digging her fingers into his hair. She could go on like this forever, wrapped in Adrian’s warm embrace, cuddling, kissing, enjoying every second life had to offer.

    And then Oscar had to ruin it.

    “Ay, lovebirds!” he yelled, almost twenty feet away. The people around them turned their attention to Nova and Adrian. Nova pulled back instantly, but Adrian leaned in for one final peck, lingering a second too long for Oscar’s liking. “Can you keep your faces apart for two seconds or am I gonna have to come over there?” Nova turned, glaring. She wanted to slap that smug smile from Oscar’s face. Next to him, Ruby held her face in her hands, probably embarrassed for Nova and Adrian.

    “We’re coming!” Adrian called back, tugging at Nova’s hand.

Not two (2) days later, in the lounge before a night patrol:

    “You guys remember that time Nova showed her soft side by singing in Italian for a baby in public?”

    “Oscar if you don’t shut up now I will throw this pillow at you.”

[frisbee-camp]

What’s Hidden Can Be Found|Tyrus Summer Camp AU

AO3 link/Wattpad link

Camp Lowland sleepaway camp is an hour drive from Shadyside, where tensions and disagreements have been left for time to mend. But what will Tj and Cyrus do when the past comes chasing after them? Follow the Good Hair Crew and The Good Boys through their annual two-month stay in the wilderness where nature does not care for petty arguments and time has only worsened their situation.

Chapter 1: Deja Vu

///*takes place about one to two years after the finale**summer after freshman year of high school bcs idk if they're in 7th or 8th lol thx disney//

Disclaimer: ive never been to summer camp lmao but I did go to camp in sixth grade so forgive me if my knowledge of summer camp culture is off. FOR TYRUS WEEK!! ////

TJ squinted when the hot forest sun hit his eyes. It was hot. Actually properly hot. Another degree up and the pine trees would have kindled and Camp Lowland would have burned down. TJ’s duffle bag pinched his shoulder as he walked towards the main camp lawn where the rest of Sunnyside teens congregated around the flagpole. He always enjoyed this weird annual tradition where parents sent their kids to the middle of nowhere to annoy other slightly older teenagers. Anyone who was anyone went to Camp Lowland, this meant all of his school friends would be there. His smiled widened as he was met with hugs from William, Lucas, Grant and his other basketball friends. There were about a hundred or so campers this year, a little less than last year thought TJ.

“YO, TJ!!” Someone to his right called out to him. It was Marty, trailed by Jonah. Marty’s hair had gotten fluffier, he had grown taller since middle school. Jonah had also gotten taller and now had a soccer players body since he switched from Frisbee to the more recognized sport. TJ jogged to his friends and gave them hugs.

“Hey guys, what’s up? Where are we this year?” He dropped his bag around the compact grassy field and looked around. Camp Lowland was set in a valley surrounded by tall prickly pine trees. There was a river on the east side and a lake in the north, and a soccer field and basketball in the west. There were four cabins at Camp Lowland: Redwood, Aspen, Oak, and Willow. All situated on the edges of the grassy field in a rhombus layout with Redwood in the north, Aspen in the east, Oak in the west, and Willow in the south. They were big and luxurious as someone had recently donated an excessive amount of money to them. TJ loved it. No school. No teachers. No stress. Just him, his friends, the wilderness, and fun. He felt like a dog let loose in a flower field.

“We’re Redwood, all three of us. Cool right?” Jonah smiled his classic smile. Tj, Marty, and Jonah had formed their own little posse Andi had named The Good Boys. Tj didn’t even remember how they became such good friends, one day he just found himself in a group chat with the three of them and no one else. In a year they were inseparable. He had a feeling they had been set up by Andi and Buffy, but no one complained. They were some of the only people TJ could completely trust.

“Yeah, cool,” TJ said cooly and looked around in the crowd. He couldn’t see Andi or Buffy or even…

“You looking for Cyrus?” Marty had noticed him looking around, “he’s already in WIllow with Andi and Buffy.” Marty gave him a sympathetic smile. He always kept an eye on Cyrus since he was still with Buffy. Tj returned with a shy smile.

“You ready to go?” Jonah said as he dragged his bag towards Redwood.

“Yeah let’s go,” TJ said without looking back.

Tj loved the new renovations, now it meant that there were four people per room in each cabin with ten rooms in each cabin. Five for boys and five for girls on opposite sides of the hall. By some glorious luck, the Good Boys were all in one room. There were two bunk beds but no one came to claim the last bed. Marty and Jonah took the top bunks, leaving TJ alone on the bottom. Once they settled in, TJ opened the window that overlooked the lake. It was glistening and alive and it took all of TJ’s will to not jump in right now. It wasn’t as hot as it was when he got to Camp, but it was still enough to cause his t-shirt to cling to him. At least the breeze cooled as the sun started going down.

Later that evening, when the camp counselors had introduced themselves and their ridiculous camp names, Tj found himself searching the mass of teenagers for a boy with dark hair. Each cabin had their own fire pit and was roasting marshmallows and introducing themselves to each other, but that didn’t mean Tj couldn’t see the other campers in adjacent fire pits. During high school, TJ had tried to move away from the mean jock stereotype but it was impossible to control how people saw him. He still played basketball, was the best on the team and the captain of JV, but that didn’t make him any less self-conscious. He didn’t have much more to hide really, except maybe his dyscalculia, but everyone knew he was gay or questioning or whatever you want to call it. But they still didn’t know him like, like him. Tj found the back of Cyrus’ head on Andi’s shoulder around the Willow fire. He knew he probably hated being outdoors, probably hated the dirt and the sun. He gave himself a sad smile and burnt his marshmallow on purpose.

After introductions and camp songs Tj had sung a million times, the cabins were allowed to mill about and socialize. The Good Boys and the Good Hair Crew immediately found each other in the crowd.

“Hey!” Andi said, “Aren’t the renovations awesome! We all get our own bathrooms now!”

TJ zoned out after that. They laughed and talked while Tj hid his hands in his pockets. He tried to catch eyes with Cyrus, but he kept looking away from him at the last second. Tj decided that he couldn’t be there anymore and said, “I’m gonna get some chocolate.”

Tj found himself mindlessly chewing on a gummy bear at the snack table. There were all sorts of goodies laid out in front of him, sour candies and chocolate bars, a big bowl of fluffy marshmallows, strawberries, crispy mountain apples, and lots of chips and popcorn. Any other day and Tj would have devoured the entire table, but not today. He reached for a marshmallow to roast and brushed hands with someone familiar.

Tj’s eyes fluttered up.

“Hey,” Cyrus said shyly.

“Hi,” Tj said just as quietly. Tj had his glasses on, the flame from the fire reflected over them and half of his face making him look a little warmer than usual.

“Um,” Cyrus looked down at their still touching hands and inched his way. Tj missed the sensation. “I think there are enough marshmallows to go around,” Cyrus joked. It was nice to hear him laugh, even it if was just a small one.

“Yeah, but who knows. You know I could eat an entire bowl of this stuff,” Tj said.

“Yeah I know,” Cyrus was staring at him. It made him shuffle his feet and look towards his friends.

“How’s your room?” TJ asked trying to ease the tension but if Andi came over right now she’d be able to cut it with scissors.

“Probably not as nice as yours,” Cyrus blinked once. Tj thought he saw his cheeks pinked, but it could have been the heat from the fire.

“Well, you are in Willow…” Tj teased. It was camp tradition that the opposite cabins were rivals. This meant Redwood rivaled Willow and Aspen rivaled Oak. At the end of the summer, whichever camp amassed the most points would have a tree named after the cabin leader. Tj was sure it was just an excuse to plant two trees every year, but it wasn’t about who won at the end, he just loved the competition. Sometimes the cabins would form alliances, last year Aspen won because Redwood helped them during a scavenger hunt, and in return, they let rabbits loose in Willow. Not the fluffy cute rabbits, these ones had rabies. The camp almost shut down because of the scandal but no one found out that it was all Amber and Tj’s idea.

Cyrus laughed a little, “Whatever cabin leader, don’t let the power get to your head.” Being cabin leader meant TJ and the other cabin leaders, Amber for Aspen (again), Iris in Oak, and Buffy in Willow, could choose what days the cabin wide competitions would be held. It may seem small, but every cabin had a strategy. Even the ones with alliances.

“Oh don’t worry Cyrus, it already has,” Tj knew he was looking for too long. He probably had that dumb grin he got around Cyrus.

Cyrus hummed softly and poked a marshmallow through his marshmallow skewer and walked back towards the group. TJ’s heart rate finally calmed down when he left.

The next day began cabin competition or ‘Cabin Comp’ preparations. One competition worth 200 points held at the end of each week and culminating in the final competition which was yet to be determined by the cabin leaders. But during the week each cabin could win up to 50 points, two max for each cabin member that exhibited good behavior, excellent camping skills, or any other skill that the counselors felt deserved an award. That meant there was a maximum of 2,000 points. Tj’s cabin last year had won 1,582 but Amber’s had won a perfect 2,000. He didn’t care though, because he still beat Willow. It was sort of like Hogwarts, except the only magic came from the adrenalin rush he got from playing basketball with his friends.

Tj spent most of the week playing basketball and soccer with the Good Boys. He tried concentrating on figuring out a strategy for the first game: capture the flag. It seemed like Buffy was working on a strategy too since she kept giving him cold glances during morning announcements and in the mess hall. Last year she had gotten only 50 points less than Tj, a little too close for Tj’s taste. He had a feeling she was keeping her cabin members away from the Redwoods, which was understandable since he was doing the same with the Willows. During the first week, campers usually stuck to their own cabins and through the summer tensions calmed until a couple of weeks to the last Cabin Comp.

“Yo T!” He heard Jonah call to him, “you good dude?” Jonah held the basketball on his hip, his blue eyes the same color as the river he was staring into.

“Yeah, I’m good just thinking,” He said absentmindedly.

“Yeah? About CC1?” Marty said a little out of breath. CC1 stood for Cabin Competition One.

Tj just sighed and nodded. “Bro if you need help thinking you know you can ask us right?” Jonah added. Tj’s lip quirked up. For some reason, he thought he could do it alone. He tried not to get caught up in the cabin leader mentality where he only thought the competition was between him and the other leaders.

“How ‘bout now?” Tj said, surprising even himself.

The rest of the night Tj, Jonah, and Marty spent sitting on the floor of their room. Tj had to step out to do room inspections with the cabin counselor Luke, a 20 something with way too much energy and who always smelled like some illegal substance. TJ liked him nonetheless, he was cool and never talked down to his campers.

“Hey, TJ. Don’t worry about all that CC stuff I know we’ll win like last year” Luke whispered as they tiptoed around the cabin with flashlights making sure all the campers were accounted for.

“I don’t know Luke, this year feels different, like a bad version of deja vu or something,” Tj breathed out.

“Just think positive and you’ll attract those good vibes,” Luke said. He had a habit of trying to give everyone he met a psychic reading. Let’s just say that he was 0% psychic.

“I don’t even know why I’m cabin leader again,” Tj was surprised when he was voted as cabin leader around the campfire last night. This would be the third year in a row he’d been elected.  Same with the other cabin leaders.

“Just think of it as the universe rewarding you, you know you can always give it to someone else,” Luke trailed, “like I don’t know, Jonah or even Marty or something. I know you guys are basically the same person.” Luke gave an airy laugh and clicked his flashlight off.

“I don’t know dude,” TJ said, “I guess they trust me or whatever.” Tj actually thought his cabin members were just playing a trick on him. It wasn’t that he was mean anymore, he just thought that they thought he was still a jerk. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe he was leveled and a good leader.

When he got back to his room Jonah and Marty had perfected the strategy. Tj smiled as it was laid out in front of him in his friends’ messy boyish handwriting. “Perfect” he finally said after examining it.

When CC1 day came, the mess hall buzzed with excitement. Everyone was nervously chittering away as TJ slurped down two bowls of cereal. He found himself staring at Buffy’s table, more specifically to Cyrus who looked tired but content as he bit into a slice of bacon.

“Tj,” Jonah said to him, “Focus, we need you.”

“You’re right, sorry” Tj felt his nose pink just as Cyrus met his eyes and quickly looked away.

Tj stood on the steps of the Redwood cabin as he explained the rules and strategy of CC1: capture the flag. The plan was simple. They would not ally themselves with either Oak or Aspen, they were to directly look for Willows flag. Half of them would defend and the other half would go searching spread out evenly and with whistles to use as signals and to blow if any of them were in trouble. A third of the searchers would run at full speed and while Willow was distracted another third would follow and when they least expected it the last third would storm. Tj had only a faint idea of where the flag was. He knew that Redwoods' flag was on the dock in the middle of the lake, Aspen’s would probably be on the other side of the river, Willows would be somewhere around the willow tree they were named after, and Oak’s would be on the top of the hill their cabin was in front of. This meant that all the flags would be behind the cabins, they’d have to run through the open field. Once they ran, Willow would know their plan.

He looked out at his cabin members, kids he had known since he was a toddler. They knew him and trusted him and Tj felt his heart soar like when it does when he captains the basketball team. He took a deep breath and looked out at the other cabins. The sun was just as hot as the first day they were there. Hot. Not warm or steamy but a humid sticky hot. Here we go he thought.

“Change of plans,” Tj said suddenly. “Searchers, go in your ambush groups but sneak behind Aspen and Oak before going into Willow’s territory."

It was a good thing he changed the plan because Buffy had chosen to use the strategy he abandoned at last minute. He didn’t know how she had learned it, but once the whistle blew from Head Counselor Moose she and 10 other cabin members stormed. TJ laughed knowing that his cabin would know exactly how to get them out. Marty had volunteered to guard the flag himself. Tj lead one of the ambush groups behind Oak and Jonah behind Aspen. They were sneaky but even then some of them were tagged out leaving only Jonah and Tj to quietly look for the Willow tree. And then it was there. After what felt like thirty years of walking and a gallon of sweat, Tj saw the enormous and beautiful Willow tree. Andi’s sculptures could never compare to the real thing. This one was tall, with branches that hung low and swayed in the wind. It was incredibly green and lush and just slightly tinged pink along the borders. The suns' heat didn’t even phase this part of the forest. It’s rays gently seeped through the leaves, leaving a fuzzy warm light. The grass was taller than normal here, rising above Tj’s ankles. Wildflowers dotted the base of the tree, light purple, and yellow and pink. TJ crept closer to the tree, it must have been a trick, this was too easy. He saw the flag peaking around the corner of the trunk, it was neon orange and foreign in such a natural environment. Tj went to grab it but someone also poked their head around the trunk.

“You didn’t think you’d be able to just take it did you?” Squinted up an already sunburnt Cyrus. Tj jumped back. He wasn’t expecting to talk to Cyrus today, especially not have him holding the flag that could get him 200 points.

“I uh-“ Tj blinked in surprise as Cyrus stood up to his full height. He wasn’t holding the flag, he was the flag. Buffy had tied it around his waist. Not against the rules but fowl play. Of course she would do this. She knew Tj would come himself and she knew he couldn’t just snatch it from Cyrus’ body. Tj vowed to take revenge.

But Cyrus looked so cute in the Weeping Willow tree’s soft light. He had a blue wildflower behind his ear and had tried weaving himself a flower crown. It was crooked on his head. He must have been here for a long time. Probably before the cabin leaders even explained the rules.

“Yes?” Cyrus swayed slightly, he seemed proud of the predicament he had put Tj in.

“I uh,” Tj swallowed and saw Jonah out of the corner of his eye, “I came for the flag.”

Cyrus considered this for a moment and then saw Jonah in Tj’s line of sight, “Tell Jonah that if he comes any closer I’ll tag you out and run. You know you can’t afford that because Buffy is probably just as close to your flag.” He was right. Geez. Cyrus was enjoying this, his eyes glinted and he had a small smile.

“Marty’s guarding ours.”

“Yeah, she knows,” Cyrus sighed slightly, “do you think she cares?” Tj knew Marty and Buffy were so in love it disgusted him, but he also knew Buffy would take the flag without hesitation.

“So what do you want me to say that will make you give me the flag?” Tj blurted. He hated this weird tension they had.

Cyrus looked angry now, “I don’t want you to say anything. Why are you being a jerk?”

Tj grunted in frustration, his win was a foot away from him but he couldn’t get it because of his feelings.

“I don’t know Cyrus?! Why are you so weird around me?!” Tj could tell that his voice had raised. It made Cyrus cower a bit, but he quickly regained his angry face.

“You broke me TJ! You know that.” Cyrus was about the cry, TJ could tell by the way he spit out every word.

“What? Wh-“

And then Camp Counselor Moose’s whistle blew. Buffy had won.

[bruhnushka]

what happened w the guy

so basically,,, *this is really Long btw

lets call the guy Sean. 

so i followed Sean on insta a couple months ago bc I thought he was funny and he lived in the same area I did. He was kinda famous (had 33k followers so I mean) and I kind of assumed wed never interact past his posts. Then one day he goes on live. I’m super bored so I click on it. He tells everyone there to ask questions that they find interesting. All the comments were “how big is your dick” and “what color are your eyes really” type beat. I thought that was the vibe so I put in a question I knew he wouldn't answer. I commented “Do you think the US was justified in Hiroshima?” It took a few seconds but he saw my question and his eyes did this thing were they like widened and like creased??? but anyways I remember that look bc that kinda started everything. He started going into full depth about the USA and our excessive need for sticking our noses where they don't belong and how much resources and money we waste on foreign aid and we were having a discussion and he was ONLY looking for my comment. there was a girl named Leah who kept asking him to say her name by spamming the comments section and he literally said “Leah. there. im blocking you now.” and deadass blocked her. this whole live chat thing happened for the next few days until around the fourth time. After he finished his live on the discussion of our gun laws he followed me. I was so excited and happy and at this point I hidden FALLEN for him, but I had somewhat of a tiny crush. Seeing his dumbass posts made me smile and go all butterfly-y in my stomach. Anything with his name in it (which was a common white boy name) also made me smile and go all butterfly-y in my stomach. Exactly 2 days after he followed me I was watching his story where he posted one of his dumbass tik toks he made when he was high. I started laughing so hard so I slid up, forgetting it was him, and called him stupid. By the time I realized I slid up on HIS story it was too late and he'd already seen it. He started replying and although it was awkward at the beginning it started to became more bearable, until we exchanged numbers and would text for nights. It had been about 2-3 weeks after I first commented at this point. Sean had been texting me like nonstop and would tell me that he loved talking to me and he wanted to meet. I hadn't really discussed anything relationship wise with him but I could feel myself getting whipped. Around the 5th week of talking we met up at a movie theatre, took some edis, and got smacked. It was so fun and we talked forever about everything and I ended up sleeping in his car. He drove me home the next day and he told me that we should hang out again, but didn't kiss me or anything. And we did, like every single week. He’d come to my rooftop and smoke with me and we’d just talk and laugh and sleep. By then it had been about 2 months and I was gone. I was literally completely head over heels fallen for him. There reached a point when he was in Vegas so I couldn’t talk to him so I missed him. I went on his main insta, that had no posts. I got bored so I looked into his tagged, and scrolled around. Then I found two things. number one was a prom post, but a collection of photos w him and a girl who's head was on his shoulder. the second post was all the way at the bottom, and was a one month anniversary photo of him and the same girl from Aug of 2018. My heart literally dropped and I immediately called my friends and told them. I assumed the worst, that he was in a relationship and was just playing with me. I wanted so desperately to believe that he was the most perfect person for me- smart and intelligent about all these topics that interest me, funny with the same damn sense of crackhead humor as me, and he was so hot. And the fact that he WANTED to hang out with me, and showed interest in me, I really let myself fall. I didn't talk to him for a few weeks, and by the time he finally texted me it was about 4 months since I first commented. Looking back at it, everything happened so fast. He texted me asking if I was ok. When I didn't respond, he drove to my house with food and weed and I sent him out. He left me a voicemail and a paragraph hoping that I was ok and if he could do anything. That really hurt me because I realized that he didn't know what he did wrong. After he left the voicemail, I decided I would tell him how I feel about him. It took me days but I eventually wrote a massive paragraph explaining everything I felt from the moment I met him until now, and why I didn't want to talk to him, and why I felt the way I did. I sent it, he read it, and gave a paragraph in return. to summarize, he basically said “I never meant to lead you on, I loved you but as a friend, I would never date you, I wish we could still be friends because you are an amazing person.” I told him we could, but I needed a break from him. He asked if we could meet for one last time before the break and I was so fucking vulnerable and desperate to spend time with him I said yes. He picked me up and we went to Lake Elizabeth and thats where I asked him, like an idiot, why he wouldn't date me. He told me, and I quote, “I don't really... fuck with your type of girls.” obviously I was confused, so I asked him wym. he kinda said “you know...” and motioned towards my body. He basically said he didn't date fat girls. He saw my face when he said that and he knew he made a mistake but it was too late, I literally just got up and left. I called my friend and asked her to send me an uber and it was just a mess, I was crying and about to scream and Sean was like finally getting up to chase after me after sitting there for like fifteen minutes but by then I left. I went home. About 2 days ago, 3 days after that happened, I was shamelessly stalking his page using another one of my accounts. He posts a black screen with a broken heart emoji, and then the next one was a paragraph ass post about why they broke up. I didn't want to read it but I skimmed it and i think it was something about how they were “too different.” anyways almost three hours after reading the post he hits me with a “wyd” and some random ass worm emoji we use ironically. I haven't responded still and don't plan to, although theres a part of me literally begging to talk to him again bc I know he wants to either date me or just play with me again and that part of me isn't even mad at that

so yea. that on top of so much other tings w my personal life and friends has literally made me so numb rn. like I wanna cry,,, but I can't

[tsundere-model]

Also ShuIzu bc yes

Meme: Five times kissed ((this took me almost 3 hours to write what the actual heck, i hope you fucking love this thing)) @mathlovershugarl

I love you, no matter how i meet you

The first time was in the dim light of an oil lantern, it’s light so fickle every breeze from the open window felt like a deadly threat. Not even the unusual calmness of an empty street beyond his window enough to stop the tears that dripped from blue eyes. How shameful, he had thought. To find a familiar echo in the words of someone else - words written far away across the sea, by someone he might never come to meet.

A small apology at his ridicule display, he pressed a folded piece of white cloth against the corners of his eyes, cleaning away them from the offending tears without compromising the elaborate makeup.

The stern tone of the scholar pulled at his heart like gravity itself, face turning up in time to be caught by the trap of bright gold eyes. A lure he couldn’t help but take, the warning tone of light irritation at his mindless apology useless against the warmth caress of that breath against his skin. His head spinning as he experienced for the first time since he remembered, both the intense craving for contact and a intense fear of utter rejection.

And yet, as he allowed his body to give in, eyelids low and lips seeking contact… he found nothing but a sweet retort. A corresponding caress of lips against lips and tender fingers over the softness of his cheek and the intricate mess of his own silver hair. And that was it… the academic had pulled away and returned to his own side, ending the contact so quick it felt unreal. That first kiss of actual love but an ephemeral summer dream for him.

And yet, it was leading him to a path of no return.

Feet moving along the upbeat music, the beautiful landscape of the city beyond the windows all the more beautiful when seen in complete darkness. Silly giggles he felt almost too embarrassed to let others hear following one after the other, he had eventually stopped pointlessly looking at his feet for possible obstacles a couple of songs ago, instead allowing himself to follow the expert lead that came from that warm hold around his waist and those rough fingers against his very own hand.

They had moved all the furniture out of the way before starting, so there was no point in looking around. He was just used to it. Just like the redhead before him was used to the opposite, always ‘looking’ straight ahead.

And just like he had said before they indulged in this little game, he truly was all too used to sing and not enough to dance; breath already harsh after only these few songs. At the very least his partner was just as tired as himself - an amusing thought considering how steady his lead continued to be.

It was the change from being an idol to a singer - he tried to excuse himself- from caring about his whole appearance to hating the voiced judgments about it. But that was all they were, excuses. Not that he needed when standing here - in this small world for just the two of them. Another smile, he pressed himself closer to the taller male, gently leading him to crane down. Just enough he’d be able to catch him if he stretched his back.

Lips pressed softly against his cheek, he followed by another one by the corner of his lips.

A giddy feeling as he noticed, in the closeness, the embarrassed gesture the artist was doing without noticing, he ventured another kiss, this time square in the lips. Soft, warm, sweet. Their feet still moving along with the music -even if much slower by now- the gentle kiss made his whole world shift perspectives.

How he hated rainy days. The pitter-patter of the rain against the cold concrete of a unforgiving world sounding like judgment in his ears. A nonexistent persecution by the hand of stormy rain clinging to his fur and imposing thunder making him shiver - and yet the warmth inside him wouldn’t stop.

He froze in place, the piercing fierce eyes of a dog placed over its small frame.

A real escape - breathless, fearful.

Unfamiliar sights and dark alleys following one after the other, he slowly but certainly cornered himself. Slowly drifting away from the places he knew he’d be safe in; Self-destructive even in his attempts to flee danger.

And then he heard no more panting behind his tracks.

He hated rainy days. Grim remainders of the stains that made him worthless, the weak - unwanted. Paws finally giving up in his escape, even if he wasn’t sure he was completely safe, he curled down against a cold concrete wall, barely hiding from the rain in a creak between rocks and a tree… the whole world grey for starry blue eyes he blinked slowly, the drops of water following the lines of his fur and across his muzzle.

He heard a growl in the distance and curled further down, wishing to pass unnoticed.

The sound of sniffle making him look towards the street ahead, he noticed a big muzzle trying to squeeze itself in the creak he had hidden inside and cowered further inside.

Fear…

He closed his eyes, breath erratic and claws out, a low hiss trying to keep the intruder at bay.

And then he felt fingers over his fur. The sudden touch making him turn around and claw at the hand that touched him.

The hand however, didn’t retreated, instead holding his nape strongly and forcing him out of his hiding place. He hissed, struggling and wriggling in that hold, until he was able to see familiar eyes… gestures.

His fighting stopping, he allowed himself to shift back slowly… bones cracking and body shaking at the cold, the tears that a cat couldn’t shed instantly dripping from his now human blue eyes. How weak. How vulnerable… wrapped in a warm jacket he could only guess the wolf-dog had been clever enough to bring with him, strong hands picked him up and held him tight. Warmth unlike anything he had ever felt kept him from falling again, the sheer contrast making painfully obvious how cold his body felt.

Reaching up with both arms, he clung from that warmth that made his loneliness so evident. He felt gentle nuzzling against his face, warm lick more befitting of a dog than a man. He trembled, fearful, lonely, cold.

Words of gratitude and regret mixed inside his mouth, coming as hollow cries not unlike the ones before. Yet desperate for returning the gesture, he eventually licked back at the other’s face. Slowly, timidly, right in between his own tears…

And ever so slowly their muzzles - no, their mouths- seemed to close their distance. Shaking in the gentle hold, a stray lick turned into a soft kiss. Drops of water falling from the long ends of his hair and mixing as their tongues slowly wrapped around each other. Sweet… warm… it wasn’t the excruciating heat that threw him over to his knees and made his mind turn to mush.

No… it was a good warmth. A good need.

A reassuring hold…

He woke up in the middle of the night to unusual sounds, his attempt of turning around and sitting up foiled by an arm strongly laced around his waist and refusing to let go. Shifting around as he could in the almost desperate embrace he had been caught into, he managed to turn around enough to look at his lovers face across the darkness. Through the curtains the obnoxious neon lights of a city refusing to sleep gave him enough light to make up the details in his face.

The deep frown that marked lines across the skin, clenched jaw and tightly pressed lips… a gesture of pain that matched those small whimpering sounds that had woke him up. A nightmare maybe? Was it the accident again? Was it something else?

He called the other’s name gently, long fingers reaching up to caress his face and brush the red buckles of stray hair out of the way, inviting him to return to reality.

Finally, golden eyes opened at the calling… first opening wide and then closing down slowly. The hold around his waist only turning stronger now that the redhead had woke up.

What were the right words to say? What the right things to do? Unable to tell, he could only try his best. Fingers passing through that red hair, he gently pressed a kiss against his cheek, and then another one against his forehead, reassuring words as he tried to ease him back into a gentle and warmth world.

How gentle his words could be when the only thing in his mind was to bring calm to the agitated mind of his lover. He heard what he could only guess was an apology, the shaky breath making it hard to tell… shaking his head no, he kissed the apology away, along with all the other worries and fears.

He didn’t minded one bit. He had no regrets in his love… if he could be useful like this... if he could make things even a little bit easier for the one he loved with his words, with his presence… then that was enough for him.

The cup was empty. Eyebrows knitted at the realization, he finally looked up from the pile of reports, transcriptions and recordings. Time had passed without him noticing, the sun already gone from the sky. The bright light above their head very lightly the result of his younger lover’s timely concern.

Talking of which… lowering his glasses over the bridge of his nose, he gave an adoring look at the young redhead before his eyes. Gesture serious, he seemed all too focused in the complicated-looking book before his eyes to even realize he was being stared at.

A little smirk pulling from his lips, the lawyer opted for silently refiling his coffee. The sound of the chair moving against the floor or the coffee machine starting up did nothing to shake the student’s concentration, completely invested in the theory before him.

How cute. Truly adorable.

Pouring another full cup of coffee as it was done, he took a good sip from it before settling it down besides his work… However, instead of sitting down to continue as he might have done, he opted for walking around the younger male, finally standing on the opposite side from him. Tapping lightly in the opposite shoulder, he smiled as the college student turned towards the place he was expecting the lawyer to be just to be surprised by the empty desk and chair.

A wide smile was plastered across his face when the redhead finally found him standing besides him. The pout in the younger’s face every bit able to melt him down where he stood. He had no business looking this cute.

Reaching out with one hand, he squeezed the soft cheek of the student, giggling at his small sound of protest as he called him cute again. Finally, he released the teasing hold -albeit reluctantly- to instead, catch the prize of soft cherry lips. How soft and cute, just like everything about him. And before he could complain another kiss for good measure, tongue swiping across his lips and slowly sneaking inside his mouth. He wondered if the redhead would think the kiss was bitter, considering the coffee he had just downed, but as he pulled back, he saw nothing but a messed up look of bliss.

How adorable indeed. He seemed like the perfect dessert to go along with his coffee.

[twoidiotwriters1]

July 5th, 1981 (WITT One-Shot)

A/N: It’s my birthday but so is Mel’s!! I wanted to post something, it also works so you guys can know Matthew a little better, I’m gonna do more extras like this for sure, but it might be a while before I post another. -Danny

Words: 2,688

Warnings: It’s not proof-read bc it’s my birthday guys I don’t have the time jsdsfjs also this has a sappy ending, sorry not sorry

Series’ Masterlist

July 5th, 1981.

It was quiet, this wasn’t how she had pictured her daughter’s first birthday would be. 

When she was younger, her parents would always throw the biggest parties, that stopped once she went to Hogwarts, but they would always send howlers singing ‘Happy Birthday’ and she would always die of embarrassment. Now she would give anything to receive one again.

‘This is not about me’, she quickly corrects. ‘Today all that matters is that we’re together.

Emily was nervous though, James and Lily were supposed to remain hidden but they had found a way to convince Dumbledore to help them get to Matt and Em’s house so they could celebrate both, Mel and Harry’s first birthday together.

Harry’s birthday was actually way after Mel’s, but is not like they could really be moving places all the time, not when they knew there was so much at stake.

So there she was, nervously waiting for Lily and James to arrive with their son, Matthew and Sirius escorting the family to give extra security.

“Em, if you keep messing with Mel’s ribbon she’ll bite your hand,” Remus warned her calmly. “They’ll be here soon, don’t worry.”

“I don’t worry about them being late,” She said, putting her daughter back in the playpen. “I worry about… you know, the journey.”

“They’ll be fine,” Remus shook his head. “Didn’t Matthew just got promoted to Head Auror?”

“Yes, and if you ask me that’s the biggest nonsense I’ve heard.”

“Is it?” The man raised a brow. “Thought you’d be happy.”

“I am,” Emily brushed it off, “you know this didn’t make Matt happier, every day he talks about murders, accidents… Now I understand why my mother hated so much when my dad would talk about that in front of me.”

“Listen,” Remus stood up and put a hand on her shoulder to stop her rambling. “There’s someone at the back door…”

Emily ran to the kitchen then, she walked in the exact moment James and Lily were taking off the cloak, little Harry clinging to her Mother’s neck.

“Where’s Matt?” Emily asked a bit too frantically.

James let out a short, sarcastic laugh.

“We’re happy to see you too, Mily.”

“Don’t be mean, you’d be asking the same thing if it were me the one who left hours ago to pick up some friends,” Lily scolded him, then she turned back to Emily. “He’s with Sirius making sure no one followed us, they’ll be here in a moment.”

“Okay,” Emily nodded, though she still looked nervous.

“Hey!” Remus walked in, he was holding Mel and the little girl was playing quietly with the hem of his sweater. “Thought you might want to say hello to the birthday girl…”

“Hey there, little Em!” James was the first to stir into action, he quickly made his way over to the baby and stole her from Remus grip. “Blimey, I saw you last week, but I could swear you weren’t this big!”

“She looks so much like you, Em”, Lily smiled, walking over to her husband and holding Harry a bit more closer to his father so the babies could see each other.

“Only on the outside,” Emily shook her head, “She’s all her father, that one. Trust me, she’s so quiet I barely register when she’s around.”

“Give her time, once she learns how to speak you’ll have her giving out orders like the bossy girl she’s destined to be, just like her mother–  aren’t you, love?” James smirked, tickling the girl’s belly.

The little girl laughed, Harry’s attention was inmediately drawn to the sound and he reached out to touch the girl’s face. Lily pulled him back with a laugh.

“Easy there! We don’t want you fighting like last time”

“Fighting?” Emily asked, her attention abruptly leaving the window and turning to face the young couple. “Matthew never mentioned they fought”.

“Well, that’s cause it’s a baby fight, they don’t count,” James explained.

“Are you talking about the time you and Sirius got mad for a day because you stole his chocolate frog?” Matthew walked in, followed by Sirius. “Cause that sure was childish.”

“Newsflash, asshole. We were children,” Sirius hit the back of his head.  

Matthew walked straight to the faucet to wash his hands, but just as he was about to start, Emily let out a loud, exasperated breath.

“Matt!” Emily rushed over to her husband and gave him a firm kiss on the cheek, she cupped his face with both hands and examined him carefully, causing him to laugh.

“I left for just an hour love, I’m all right…”

“She knows that, she’s just checking if you finally got some brains inside that huge head of yours,” James teased.

Matthew threw him the cloth he was using to dry his hands and James yelled.

“Hey! I’m holding your daughter!”

“Not anymore!” Sirius quickly took the baby in his arms and started to twirl around the way he knew would make her laugh non-stop. “How’s our little Em doing, huh?”

“She has a name, you know?” Emily said, crossing her arms.

“Right, a name that’s derived from a nickname Matthew gave you in school,” James shrugged. “So it’s the same.”

“Enough, give me my child, Sirius,” Emily huffed.

“No!” Sirius held onto the baby tighter. “This is the first time I see her in weeks, give me a moment.”

“Who knew Sirius would turn out to be such a fan?” Lily laughed. “Never thought I’d see you grow attached to a baby until Mel and Harry were born.”

“Not me, that’s certain,” Sirius raised a brow, his eyes softening at the way Mel would giggle.

“Shall we start the party, then?” Remus asked. “I’m starving.”

“Unexpected,” James snorted.

“Shut up, Prongs.”

Most of the group moved to the living room, Emily stopped James and Lily at the doorframe.

“Sorry for not saying hi,” Emily sighed heavily, “It’s just… waiting has never been my favorite hobby.”

“Tell me about it,” James said, she knew he hated having to stay at home instead of fighting along his friends, but his family came first and Harry was in danger, Emily was feeling exactly like him, having to stay so she could take care of Mel while Matthew was out…

Emily hugged both of them quickly before guiding them to the living room.

“Okay, but which one do you think will be the real trouble maker?” Sirius asked to the group.

He was sitting on the floor right next to Harry and Mel, who were playing loudly, unaware of what the adults were saying.

“Oh, Harry for sure,” Emily said, at the same time Lily replied ‘Mel, certainly.’

“What?” They asked at the same time.

“What makes you think my daughter is the right choice?”

“What makes you think my son is?”

“Oh, are you about to fight? Should I take the kids upstairs?”

“Shut up, Sirius!”

“I think you’re both wrong,” James replied. “You think that with a mother like Lily and a father like Matt our children have any chance to misbehave?”

“Oh, you think that with a mother like Emily and a father like you they won’t be tempted to go behind our backs?” Matthew raised a brow. “That’s bollocks.”

“You know, as long as they don’t set their rooms on fire or something, I think we’ll manage,” Lily said with a shrugged.

“What if they start dating?” Sirius asked excitedly.

“I mean, eventually they will–”

“Hold on, who said anything about dating?” Matthew perked up. “My daughter has no reason to be thinking about dates until she’s nineteen, eighteen at best.”

“Shut up, Ruddy, you asked me on a date when we were fifteen.”

“Yeah, and how did that turn out, huh?” Matthew asked pointedly.

“Dunno, with you marrying the girl of your dreams?” Emily teased him.

Matthew’s cheek reddened, a knowing smile on his face.

“Yeah… but that’s not the point! You’re cool with letting some boy take advantage of Mel?”

“Not if we raise her right, no boy will have a chance.” Emily smirked.

“What if it’s Harry?”

“What?”

“What if Harry’s the one who asks Mel on a date?” Remus asked.

A heavy silence fell onto the group, everyone looking at Remus as if he’d said something crazy.

“Oh c’mon,” The young man rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me this is the first time you think about the possibility?”

“You know what?” James said from his seat. “That’s not such a dreadfull idea, is it?”

“What?” Matthew’s head turned so fast Emily thought he’d hurt himself.

“Think about it, Ruddy!” James laughed openly. “Are you saying my boy’s not good enough for your baby?”

Matthew opened his mouth and closed it again, he looked at Emily looking for support.

“That’s an lovely idea, actually,” Emily grinned. “We know Harry’s parents already, so that’s one thing we don’t have to worry about!”

“No, that’s exactly the thing that we should worry about,” Matthew raised a brow.

“I could say the same,” Lily said, shaking her head in disbelief. “I still remember that time Emily put blue dye on my juice just because I called her lazy.”

“That doesn’t mean Mel would be the same!” Matthew defended.

“Thanks for that, love,” Emily scoffed.

“What about James?” Sirius offered. “He’ll tell Harry all about our outings and Harry’ll get ideas.”

“Padfoot!”

“Guys, guys,” Remus stopped them, regretting being the one who had caused the argument. “Calm down, this is all just in our heads, there’s no way Mel and Harry will end up together– Merlin, I mean, they’ll grow up like brother and sister!”

“We can take care of that,” James suggested. “You know, just don’t let them get too comfy around each other…”

“If you want them to date shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

“Listen Prongs, no offense but I’m with Remus here, there’s no way my kid will end up falling for your Harry, she’s too smart.”

“She’s a one-year old baby that can’t eat on her own, what are you talking about?” James argued.

“I bet ten galleons Mel and Harry end up together,” Sirius interrupted.

The group fell silent one more time.

“Ten that they won’t,” Lily said suddenly.

“Evans!” James exclaimed in outrage.

“I’m in!” Emily said. “I’m with Sirius on this one.”

“I’m with Lily,” Matthew replied, giving his wife a look she knew was meant to be challenging.

“Okay then, I’m with Mily and Padfoot,” James huffed. “And you two are nasty traitors, can’t believe you don’t want us to be one big family.”

“We already are, Prongs,” Remus smirked. “Look at these lovely little siblings,” He pointed to the babies.

“So you’re with Lily, are you?”

“Obviously,” Remus snorted.

“Can’t believe you’re Mel’s Godfather,” Emily said dramatically. “You clearly don’t want what’s best for her.”

“Awwe, thanks, Mily.”

“No problem, James.”

“You two are unbelievable,” Lily rolled her eyes, standing up.

“Where are you going and can I go with you?” Matthew asked, giving his wife a playful, angry look.

“To get a drink, if I have to spend a whole afternoon with Sirius, James and Emily planning my son’s wedding, I won’t do it sobber.”

“Well, Happy Birthday Mel, I guess I just got you a husband!” Sirius chortled.

“Wait for me!” Remus said, quickly following Lily and Matthew to the kitchen.

“We had a great time, really,” James said, holding a sleeping Harry in his arms.

“Even if your wife revealed she doesn’t want us to be part of the same family?” Emily teased.

“Oh, she’ll end up loving the idea, trust me,” Jame said with a smile, “just wait for them to start school, she’ll be begging us to set them up.”

Emily laughed.

“I’m just teasing, but I mean it though, I know your Harry will be a great boy.”

“I know, and Lily thinks your daughter will grow up to be amazing, you and Matthew are great. And you know Harry adores Mely, Lily sees that.”

“Yeah, well… she’s the only other baby he knows.”

“Not for long though,” James sighed, staring down at his son, a worried, yet hopeful look on his face. “Soon all of this will be over, won’t it, little guy?”

“Let’s go James!” Lily called from the door. “Harry needs to sleep!”

“Coming!”

When Emily and him arrived, Sirius waited until Lily and Emily said their goodbyes and then covered the Potters with James’ cloak.

“I’ll go with Sirius, you can stay,” Remus assured Matthew, when the man started to argue back, their friend shook his head. “Stay. Emily needs you, Sirius and I will make sure James and Lily get home safe, right Paddie?”

“Sure thing,” Sirius winked. “See you next Sunday!”

“Thank you,” Emily held onto her husband’s hand, squeezing lightly. “Thank you for everything.”

“It’s nothing,” Remus brushed it off. “Next year, Mily. You’ll see…”

Next year. It felt so far away, so fragile to be an actual promise. Next year everything could be different, yes. That didn’t mean it’d be better, but it didn’t mean it’d be worse either.

Once they were alone, Matthew and Emily sat on their bed, a sleeping girl between them. Mel hadn’t been sleeping in her own room since Matthew started to watch over the Potters’ house. It gave Emily something to hold onto, Mel was her hope of a brighter future.

“You’re so good to Mel,” Matthew said suddenly, bringing her back from her swirling thoughts. “She… I know it’s hard, I don’t like being away most of the day, but you know… they’re my family too.”

“I know,” Emily smiled, reaching out to hold his hand. “That’s why I don’t ask you to stay, so you don’t have to choose.”

Matt stared for a long time at their sleeping baby before quietly replying.

“I would choose you in a heartbeat,” He swallowed the lump on his throat, feeling terrible for admiting that out loud. “You know I would.”

Emily sighed.

“Of course I do,” She replied quietly. “But then you’d never forgive yourself if something were to happen them. I’ll never force you to pick a side, Matt. We’re all fighting in our own ways, as hard as we can. We’re all doing our best.”

“Next year this will all be over,” Matthew put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, careful so Mel wasn’t uncomfortable between their bodies. “This will all be a bad dream.”

“Please,” Emily blinked back the tears, “don’t give me hopes, Matt… I know you want it to be true, but please…”

“She’ll be safe,” He cleared his throat. “Mel will live through this, and she’ll grow. I promise you that.”

“What about you?”

“Me…” She couldn’t see his face, but she was almost certain Matt was crying. “Well, if I don’t make it, tell Harry he’s got my blessing to woo Mel all he wants.”

Emily laughed, it came out a bit drowned, but it still sounded like a happy one.

“I thought you didn’t want that for our girl?”

“It doesn’t matter what we think though, does it?” Matthew sigh. “They’ll grow up and eventually they’ll fall in love– whether if they fall for each other or a total stranger, that’s out of our control. Whatever happens, I hope she finds someone who will love her the way I love you.”

“I that case, I pitty the kid that will have to endure that job,” Emily raised a brow, “they’ll have to chase her around for six years and then wait that one day, maybe, she’ll agree to date them.”

“Any Sultens girl is worth the wait,” Matthew squeezed her shoulder lightly, a loving gaze adorning his features.

“And any Dumbledore is worth the trouble,” Emily teased, then looked down at her daughter, who was peacefully sleeping beside her. “Happy Birthday, little one.”

Matthew brushed a lose strand of hair away from his daughter’s face and beamed at how tiny her hand look above his.

“Happy birthday, love.”

Taglist.

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