#there is nothing worse than stupid overachiever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bruhlsbees · 3 years

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sweet disposition ; 2/? || modern!alex kerner x fem!professor!reader

summary: in a string of odd events, you and alex grow closer - but just as you grow closer, you take two steps back.

pairing: modern!alex kerner x fem!professor!reader

warnings: drinking (alex and reader), smoking (reader)

word count: 10,952 - this one was a doozy

a/n: part two!! here is the set list playlist for the club that is in this part!! thanks everyone for reading this one and enjoying it!! :) if you'd like to be on the tag list please let me know what account to tag as well as if you'd like to be added to this tag list or another fic!!

Sleep didn’t come easy for you that night. While the first day back from break went smoothly, getting back into the routine of teaching again hit you like a wall of bricks. By the end of your second class, you were already feeling yourself begin to drift off, deciding instead of the lecture slides, you’d put on a video discussing who Mary Shelley was and her novel, Frankenstein. Your students didn’t seem to mind all that much, in fact they probably were enjoying the video instead of the slides - still, you couldn’t help but feel bad for slacking.

You were a terrible overachiever - doing your best to be the picture perfect daughter your parents raised you to be. You got high honors throughout your time in school, captain of the girl’s rugby team, a member of the debate team, and at one point you even had two part time jobs. It was incredible that you even managed to keep your grades so well with all that you did.

But that obsessive behavior you were conditioned into left you burnt out after high school. You felt lost, as if you weren’t a person and simply a robot taking orders. You had no idea what interested you or what you even wanted to do with your life. Of course, you went to college, as your parents expected it of you - that and they did oh so graciously pay for your tuition. Your father constantly wished for you to become a dentist, as that was what he did, but your mother wanted you to become a nurse, like herself. But that was just it - you didn’t want to be like them. You were already their child, looking like a spitting image of the two of them, but to live in their shadow, take the torch they passed down to you? That just wasn't you.

It wasn’t until your sophomore year of college that you finally realized what you wanted to do with your life. In your ‘Romanticism in Literature’ class, you realized your love for words. You were deeply inspired by the language of romance and the stories that were created to have you question one's own thoughts. You were especially touched by Mary Shelley’s novel, Frankenstein, which is one of the many reasons you taught an entire section dedicated to her and the novel. As a teacher, your only hope was to inspire students the same way you once were and have them discover their own passions - that to you was the greatest lesson of all.

When you told your parents what you wanted to do, how you wanted to study English and teach at the university, your parents all but bit their tongues. They weren’t fond on the idea of you studying English, as they didn’t see the full purpose of it, but when you explained your interest in teaching, that seemed to be enough for them to support you. Though, even if they didn’t, you would have still continued on. For once in your life, the first time, you finally knew what you wanted to do.

Though the constant bundle of nerves that sat in your stomach never seemed to fade away. Some days were easier than others, but other days, when you stared at the picture of you with your parents on your desk, that bundle of nerves seemed to sizzle until you were left questioning your own motives. Were you even doing a good job teaching? Was this really what you wanted to be doing? Were you making the wrong choice?

The bad nights were the ones that left you awake all night, tossing and turning until the sun came up and the birds began to chirp. The sleepless nights also welcomed your new habit of smoking terrible cheap cigarettes. On average you found yourself having maybe two or three, but that particular night, you woke up to see doubled the amount of butts in the ashtray next to your bed. It was worse than a hangover, the guilt of succumbing to such a poor habit. When you finally managed to get out of bed, you grabbed the ashtray from your nightstand and went into the bathroom, dumping them into the waste bin before setting the tray on the counter, letting out a sigh as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

You would be turning thirty-three by February, and it made you sick. Thirty-three. Jesus, how did you get so old? You knew the cigarettes weren’t helping the older you got; the faint yellow coming through your teeth that was stained from the smoking and excessive coffee drinking, the stray silver slips of hair, hell, even the wrinkles you caught that morning. Pulling at your skin, you frowned seeing the crow’s feet that sat in the corners of your eyes, the lines in your forehead beginning to deepen.

“Great, this is great.”

You knew that obsessing over your age would get you nowhere. If you obsessed over it, you’d be smoking triple the amount of cigarettes and looking even worse by the end of the month. Taking the cup from the counter, you filled it with water and started lapping the water up, setting it back down while you wiped your mouth as you started to get ready for work.

The routine you had for getting ready was perfected into having you be able to get out the door within the half an hour. You were fairly good with getting most of your things around the night before, so all you truly had to do was get dressed, do your makeup, and leave. Coffee was set to be made ready by the time you were heading out the door so all you had to do was pour it and go. Today though, everything around you seemed to be falling apart.

It wasn’t until you were out of the bathroom, ready to sit at your vanity and do your makeup, that you realized you forgot to get around last night. You noticed the chair was empty, leaving you to quickly move to your closet and dig for an outfit. Unfortunately for you, laundry must have slipped your mind over the weekend, because you had no clean work clothes.

Stumbling back, your mouth fell open in shock, and disbelief, as you stared at the empty closet. It was a college, you knew the dress code wasn’t all that strict, but you still liked to keep it semi-professional. Moving back into the closet, you began to flick through the hangers, looking through your shirts, blouses, and dresses that hung up before finally finding a simple green dress in the back.

“This’ll have to do.” You mumbled, pulling it off the hanger roughly, hearing the hanger snap as it broke before hitting the floor. That was the least of your problems right now. You’d deal with it when you got home.

Turning, you pulled your pajamas off from the night and slipped the dress on over you, letting it settle over your body, clinging to your hips before stopping at your calves. You decided on your black vans that day, not wanting to even bother with the thought of heels as you were already beginning to run late. Pulling the chair out from your vanity, you sat down to do your makeup, reaching for the spot where your makeup bag usually sat only to find the space empty. What? It felt like a sick joke at this point, having your whole routine be off on a morning where you needed to be at work.

Extending your hands out, as if to stop the moment, you closed your eyes and tilted your head to the side slightly, “Take a breath, it’s fine. You’re fine. Everything is fine.”

Opening your eyes, you looked at yourself in the mirror and knew that it would just have to be a bare-faced day. The faint wrinkles on your face seemed to be more prominent today, and it would eat you alive all day. Running the brush through your hair, you tried to ignore the flicker of silver as you untangle your hair, soon pulling it back into two low pigtails. You pulled some pieces out to frame your face before realizing you had to get going for work soon.

Coffee though, that wasn’t something you could negotiate. You could deal with wearing no makeup and wearing something out of the ordinary for a day, but coffee was out of the question. It was your morning fuel to get you through the long day of teaching. It was an on-going joke within your friend group in the English department. By the time you met with them at lunch, they already had their guesses as to how many cups you’ve had. The record one day was seven, which made you realize then just how bad your addiction was. You didn’t mind though, other than the staining teeth, you never thought of it to be much of a problem - until you were needing to use the bathroom every twenty minutes.

After gathering your bags up, keys and phone in hand, you went to the kitchen to pour yourself coffee on your way out the door. It didn’t take more than one step into the kitchen when you realized something was terribly off. The smell of coffee that usually greeted you was not there.

“No...you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!”

Frozen in your spot, you saw that the coffee machine was not on, a warm pot of coffee not made for you to indulge on your way to work. You felt your eye twitch slightly, as if you were on the downhill path to cracking. You realized that though that there was nothing you could do, and you had to leave for work now or be late.

Shaking your head, you headed out of your apartment, slamming the door and locking it behind you before stomping down the steps, grumbling to yourself as you headed towards your car. “So fucking stupid, so stupid...stupid….stupid…”

Stuffing your bags in the back seat, you climbed into the driver’s seat, slamming the door behind you before letting out a frustrated scream, gripping the steering wheel in front of you. When you finally came to you, you let out a shaky breath before pulling the seat belt over you with a click. The tension in your body was oddly familiar, like how you were back in high school when things began to fall apart in your “perfect” life. This had to be the universe’s way of pulling a sick joke on you. Did you do something bad? Was karma getting back at you?

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

It didn’t take long for you to get onto campus and into your office. The parking lot was surprisingly not as packed as you had expected it to be, which felt as though at least something was turning up for you. You grabbed your things from the back of your car before rushing in the building, deciding to take the stairs this time - climbing up the three flights, soon reaching the English department.

You pushed the doors open, heading down the hallway towards your office before stopping at the one just three doors down from your own, hearing the familiar set of laughs. Standing in the doorway, you watched as your friend group gathered around, discussing something while staring at the computer that was opened.

It was Jaxon who noticed you first, the film professor that all your friends tried to set you up with. You couldn’t deny his charm and obvious handsomeness, but he wasn’t your type. You saw him as just that, a friend, and sometimes you wondered if he understood that. His expression softened slightly before leaning back in his chair, “Hey, you look like shit.” He stated, causing the others standing around him to turn and look at you.

“God, yeah you do. What the hell happened?” One of your friends, Jess, questioned, moving towards you to look at your face.

Gently pushing her hands away from you, you could only roll your eyes, “It’s called having a bad day...and me not wearing makeup. Thanks for the kind words you guys, as if I’m not already having a shitty time.”

It was Jaxon who laughed at your sarcastic comment, as he always seemed to do, standing up and handing you his cup of coffee, “Here, it looks like you need this more than I do.”

You felt bad, stealing away his precious cup of morning joe. It didn’t even look like he had gotten the chance to take a drink from it, but you were so moody and having a rough time...a cup of coffee was just what you needed. Smiling, you took the cup from him, feeling his hands rest on yours for a moment before your eyes snapped up at him, “Thanks, Jax, I appreciate it.” You mumbled, bringing the cup to your lips before taking a deep sip.

Sighing, you closed your eyes for a moment before opening them, leaning against the doorway, “Sorry, just had a rough first day I guess. I was exhausted last night and didn’t get around. This morning was rather hectic at my place,” You ran your free hand up your face before shaking your head, “Can’t get any worse though. ‘Least I hope not.”

Your other friend, Gihan, who stood beside her boyfriend, another professor within the English department and a friend, Oscar, smiled, leaning into him slightly, “You still coming out with us tonight? I’m sure letting off some steam would help.”

Ah, that. You had forgotten that it was Tuesday - meaning happy hour at the Sour Apple, a club on the other side of town. It was a regular social gathering for the five of you. Heading to Jaxon’s after work to pregame and then head to the Sour Apple until Jess passed out. You were usually always looking forward to going, but this time, you just didn’t know if you had it in you.

“I don’t know...I’m not sure if I’m in the drinking mood today.” You admitted, taking another sip of your coffee.

“Oh come on, just at least go with us. If you don’t wanna come over for pregaming, why don’t you just meet us there? Or we will pick you up on the way, yeah? You can get a nap in before we tear up the dance floor.” Oscar suggested.

Damn them. They always knew how to convince you to tag along. After a moment of silently debating, you rolled your eyes and let out a huff, “Fine, fine,” When your friends let out a cheer of victory, you could only laugh, shaking your head, “But I’m not getting fucked up! I’m not! I got classes tomorrow.”

With a deep laugh, your attention shot over to Jaxon who was back in his seat, looking up at you with a grin, “Yeah, cause we haven’t heard that one before. Wasn’t it just last semester you were showing up to teach hungover wearing the same outfi-”

“Hey! We don’t talk about that!” You couldn’t help but laugh, smiling as you tilted your head back, finishing the coffee before throwing the cup away in the waste bin beside you. When you stood back up, your attention was drawn to the hallway, seeing Alex, the student from yesterday, standing behind you, an almost embarrassed look on his face.

“Hi...sorry, am I interrupting something?” He questioned, his hands holding onto the strap of his bag, looking in the office to see the five of you. You noticed his cheeks going pink, probably feeling bad for stumbling into the office when he did.

You opened your mouth to explain that he was okay, but Jaxon beat you to it. “Alex? Hi, sorry, I’m not having office hours right now. You know that, right?” Jaxon stated, standing up from his chair to make his way to the doorway, standing beside you, almost too close.

You watched as Alex’s nose turned slightly, shifting his weight back, “Yeah...I know. I’m not here to see you.” He noted, clearing his throat awkwardly before glancing your way, as if looking for some backup with the situation.

Moving away from Jaxon and into the hall besides Alex, you looked up at your friend and smiled reassuringly, “Alex is a...semi-new student in my class, I told him he could meet with me today if he had the time to go over some things for the class,” You turned and looked at Alex, smiling sympathetically, “Sorry, Alex, I’ve been having a rough start to the day. Listen, guys, I’ll talk with you later, okay?”

You didn’t notice the look Jaxon and Alex shared between each other as you left to go down the hall to your own office. The two men, nearly standing at the same height, slightly glaring at one another, as if having a silent stand off between the two. When you unlocked your door and flipped the lights on, you turned and looked at Alex, motioning for him to come in. Hearing Alex scuff in, you set your bags on the floor before pointing to the seat at the round table in the middle of the room, “Please, have a seat. I’m just going to get some things out.”

You heard Alex sit in the chair, his bag settling down beside him while you bent over, reaching into your bag to pull out your laptop, glasses, and copy of Frankenstein, in case he had any questions over the text. You weren't entirely positive as to what he wanted to talk about, but you didn’t mind with whatever it ended up being. It was nice to have the time to get to know him. While he wasn’t properly one of your students, you would at least treat him as such.

When you stood back up, turning around to sit down, you noticed his face was rather red, his body tensed as he quickly turned his attention towards the other side of the room, desperately looking at anything else. You laughed the behavior off, sliding into the seat across from him before opening your laptop up. “You’re rather jumpy, I’ve noticed.” You pointed out, eyes scanning over the screen while you read over some of the emails that sat in your inbox.

Looking from your screen and to him, you could only smirk at his expression. It was like he was trying to be mad, but just couldn’t. “Sorry, sorry. Guess I should cool it on the teasing, huh? Second day and I’m already bullying you. I think one of the signs in the hallway would prompt you to report this behavior to the counselor’s office.” Shaking your head, you squinted over the harsh lights before picking up your glasses, sliding them up your nose, looking back up at him.

“So, is there anything specific you’d like to discuss. I know we didn’t get the chance to properly meet yesterday so if you just want to talk, I’m fine with that too. You decide though, whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Alex’s face seemed to cool off, returning to the paler complexion he had, sitting up slightly, his body relaxing, “Um, well, I read some of the book last night.” He explained, bending down to pull out his copy, putting it on the table in front of him. “It was a little hard to get into, but I think it’s just because I was reading it so late.”

You couldn’t help but smile, nodding in agreement, “Yes, I wouldn’t suggest reading this at night unless you’re trying to fall asleep. It can be incredibly dull at points.” Leaning back in your seat, you crossed your arms over your chest, “How do you know Jax- Professor Thorne, by the way?”

The question caught him off guard, not expecting to switch conversation topics so quickly. You realized this and leaned forward again, “Sorry, I just - I didn’t realize you had him for a professor. Then again, I don’t know anything about you except that your name is Alex and you are friends with Denis.” Laughing, you shook your head, closing the screen to give him your full attention, “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

Blinking slowly, Alex’s mouth fell open before he quickly caught up, “Oh, I’m a film student. Professor Thorne is one of my main professors. I actually have his class before your’s. He’s teaching ‘Authorship in Cinema’ this semester. I’m in my last year so I’m just finishing the last few requirements I have,” It was his turn to ask a question, “Are you friends with Professor Thorne?”

You felt your mouth turn into a smirk, “Hard to believe, huh? He’s not as bad as he likes to present himself...he can have a soft side. Film student, huh? You like to make movies?” You asked, tilting your head to the side as you waited for his response.

Alex shrugged his shoulders, “More or less...Denis is the one who is more into movies, at least making them. I’d be fine filming the news or something.” After explaining what he wanted to do, he realized how dull it sounded. He was going to school just to learn how to stand behind a camera and film reporters? His mother was probably rolling in her grave.

You recognized the expression as it faltered on his face. It was one of shame, as if his goals and dreams weren’t good enough for the stereotypical standard and admitting them meant he was no good. “You know, my parents weren’t too fond of me teaching English...couldn’t wrap their heads around why I wanted to do something so ‘pointless’. But that’s just it, it was something I wanted to do, not them. If you want to film for the news, Alex, go for it! Nobody is stopping you but yourself.”

The silence that settled in between you two felt heavy, a laugh escaping your lips to lighten the mood, “How’s that for some teacher’s advice?” You shook your head and shrugged, “You said you are a senior? You’ve obviously been doing this for a long time, if this wasn’t something you wanted to do, you would’ve got out a long time ago.”

Sitting in silence, Alex thought on what you said, bringing his fingers together, picking at the skin around his nails. “My mom died not too long ago. It’s why I started going to college actually,” He began, pulling his fingers away from each other to stop picking at the skin. His fingers began to drum lightly on his book. “My sister and her boyfriend have a baby and nobody needs me to take care of them. I think I went into film because it was something I knew how to do to an extent since I work with television satellites and stuff. It’s weird...doing stuff for my own. I guess sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the right thing, because it’s for me and not someone else.”

You listened to him carefully, hanging on every word he said. Dead mother, sister - assuming she is older than him, with a baby. You listened as he went on to explain how his mother fell into a coma and when she woke up he did everything for her - for his family. Of course he was feeling guilty about doing something he wanted to do, he hadn’t been able to put himself first for a long time.

Reaching across the table, a sad smile on your face, you gently placed your hand over his, “You know, Alex, if you ever just need to talk, I’m here. I know you probably don’t want to discuss this with Professor Thorne, but if you are ever just having a bad day, I’ll make myself free for you.”

You had to admit, you were a sucker for the sob story - the broken and troubled upbringing that left someone so fragile. Maybe it was the teacher in you, that enjoyed watching the delicate flowers bloom into something strong and beautiful. Or maybe it was just the human in you - hearing him talk about how after two decades he finally has put himself first, made you take pity on him. Either way, Alex knew how to make your heart hurt.

Pulling away, you watched as his smile turned slightly, taking his hand to move up to his nose, wiping it with the back of his sleeve before dropping his hand back down. “Thank you…” He mumbled, his eyes drawn to the blank space on the table. Alex tried his best to blink away the tears, not sure as to why he was getting so emotional suddenly.

Clearing his throat, he shook his head and looked up at you, who had been watching him carefully, ready to jump and comfort him if things went south. You had dealt with your fair share in emotional students. Typically they were girls, but you wouldn’t deny the gentle embrace for a male student. To say a boy couldn’t cry like a girl, well, that was just ridiculous.

Alex wasn’t expecting to open up so easily with you. He had whole-heartedly intended to come in to discuss the course, ask you a few basic questions about yourself, and go. Alex couldn’t lie, seeing you talking with Professor Dick made his blood boil. How could someone like him associate with someone like you? And to hear you defend him, to say he wasn’t ‘all that bad’...yeah right. It was bad enough that Alex saw him in class, but whenever he wanted to talk with you he’d see him then too.

Perhaps that was what was so wrong about it all. He knew he was jealous of him, of his friendship with you. Not because he looked better than him, no, it was because if Professor Dick wanted to, he could have you. He was your age, a colleague, and enjoyed kissing ass. He would say that he read Frankenstein to impress you, because he knew that was your favorite, but he wouldn’t really.

Alex though, Alex would read Frankenstein for you.

It didn’t cross his mind that you were older than him. He knew that most guys his age were pining after someone their own age. Someone who was still naive, perkier maybe, and would be wrapped around your arm at all times. But Alex, Alex liked that you were older. You held yourself in a different way than other girls. He liked how you had dimpled skin, wrinkles from age, and you weren’t as perky as girls his age.

Jesus, mommy issues much?

So that was it - he enjoyed having someone worry about him for once rather the other way around. When you spoke so carefully towards him, holding his hands and not questioning the tears that so obviously burned in his eyes, he felt safe.

“Thank you…” He found himself mumbling out, looking back up at you with misty eyes. He felt his smile grow as his cheeks ran pink, watching as you nod, your own smile on your face.

“Of course, Alex. I’m glad you came in today to chat, it seems like you needed it. Us teachers, it means a lot to us when our students feel comfortable enough to come and talk with us about personal issues. At least for me, it makes me feel more like a person than just someone who gives you a failing or passing grade.” You admitted, shrugging your shoulders before looking down at your watch. Technically your office hours hadn’t even begun yet, it only being 12:54. You wondered if Alex was hungry, would it be appropriate to ask a student to get lunch?

Before you could even attempt to ask Alex if he wanted to go out, you noticed someone standing in the doorway. Fixing your attention behind Alex, you smiled, seeing Lara, one of your students from your other class in the doorway.

“Oh! Hello, Lara! I’ll be with you in just a minute,” You felt bad for rushing Alex out, but it didn’t seem right to leave a student hanging, “Um, I’m sorry, Alex. I forgot that Lara had emailed me about having a meeting. I’m not sure how long we will be, but if you want to wait we can talk some more after.”

You noticed him frown, clearly not wanting to leave right away, however he gathered his things without an issue, forcing a smile on his face as he stood up, “No, don’t worry about it. Thanks for listening. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Turning on his heels, Alex moved out of the office, bumping into the student, Lara, who tried to take a step in too soon, running into his chest. “Oh! I’m sorry I-'' Looking down, Alex felt his ears grow warm, watching as Lara stared at him for a moment before blushing, “Hi...I’m Lara, I’m in Professor’s class that’s held on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” She explained, taking a step back.

She was cute, Lara, there was no denying that much. But Alex didn’t feel the same spark as he did with you, so when she was painfully trying to flirt with him it just went over his head. “Alex. Nice to meet you. I’m not, I’m not really in her classes,” There was a brief, and awkward, pause, before Alex moved around her. “Uh, sorry, I gotta run.” He rushed out of the conversation and down the hall, quickly making his way out of the department and to his class.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

“I’m just confused as to why we are going.” Denis explained, taking the shot glass from Alex before ‘clinking’ it against his, tipping his head back to take. He gagged slightly at the burn, but finished it nonetheless.

When Alex stopped in earlier that day to meet with you during your office hours, he overheard you and your friends talking about going to the Sour Apple after work. You knew the club they were talking about - it was the one that he lived just down the road from. He didn’t expect you to be the type to go there, but then again, he didn’t know you at all.

But he couldn’t tell Denis that, no. He couldn’t tell Denis that he had the hots for their professor after just one day and he wanted to go and see her. He was a boy, though, so of course he had no real plan as to what he would do if he saw you there. It’s not like he could buy you a drink and ask you to dance. So what would he do? Watch you from the corner like a creep? Part of him truly just wanted to go and make sure that Professor Dick didn’t do anything stupid. It was his caretaker personality kicking in, the need to have to defend you, even though you never asked for it. So what was he going there for?

“Look, you know I’m all for your movies and drinking some beers and watching what you’ve created, but why don’t we go and do something different tonight, yeah? Let’s go down to the Sour Apple and who knows, maybe you’ll even find a girl?” Denis rolled his eyes at the comment, shaking his head before leaning against Alex’s counter.

“Plus, they got happy hour going - or so I’ve heard.”

“Yeah, but on a Tuesday?” Denis shrugged and looked at Alex, with a flicker of concern in his eyes, “No offense, Alex, but you aren’t the best sometimes when holding your liquor. It’s already bad enough when you stumble home from my place, but a bar? You think you’re gonna wake up to see tomorrow?”

Denis was right - Alex suffered under the addiction of two things: beer and cigarettes. During his time taking care of his family, he relied heavily on the two to keep him in check, give him a bit of a release. But now that he was on his own, he didn’t need to rely on them.

“I get where you’re coming from, I do, but let’s just go have some fun, okay? If things really aren’t fun for you, we can come back here and do our usual. Does that sound fair?”

For a moment Denis seriously considered just heading home then, but deep down he knew that the change would be good for them. He had a suspicion though that there was something Alex wasn’t telling him, about why he so badly wanted to go down to the Sour Apple. Finally, after what felt like forever, Denis nodded and smiled as Alex clapped down on his shoulder, shaking him.

“I know you’re gonna have fun, Denny Boy - come on! Let’s get going before all the happy hour drinks are gone.” Pulling his jean jacket over the red flannel he decided to wear that night, Alex grabbed his keys and wallet, stuffing them in his pockets before opening the door to head out, locking it once Denis made his way out. The two trekked down the steps, moving quickly to get outside. Once the two were hit by the breeze of the evening air, they began their journey down the road to the Sour Apple.

It didn’t take long to hear the music booming out onto the street, the neon lights illuminating the block while the line of club-goers waited outside to be checked in. As Alex and Denis waited in the back of the line, he anxiously looked around, seeing if he could spot you with your friends. He wondered if you were here already and inside, or if you hadn’t left yet. Maybe you decided to not come at all? Alex was so worried about searching for you that he didn’t even realize the line was moving until he felt a sudden shove to his back.

“Hey! Pay attention!”

The rough voice from behind sent an instant headache to Alex. Looking behind him, he glared slightly at the older gentleman who towered him that was just as impatient as everyone else. The gentleman had a look on his face, almost testing Alex to see if he’d say or do anything. Denis, however, was the one to pull Alex away, gripping his arm tight as they moved up even more.

“Sorry about him,” Denis quickly rushed out to the angry man behind them, looking at Alex after. “Dude, what is your deal tonight? You aren’t acting like yourself?”

Pulling his arm away, Alex shook his jacket back down as it had bunched up, shaking his head, “I’m fine, man. Let’s just hurry up and get in.”

Alex didn’t mean to snap at Denis, in fact he really didn’t know why he was in such a poor mood to begin with. Yes, there was the boyish lust for you that he had fogging his brain, but that wasn’t enough to give him any reason to snap. As the two continued their way through the line, getting up to the bouncer and showing him their ID’s, Alex let out a sigh once through the door.

“Listen, Denis, I’m really sorry man. I didn’t mean to snap at you back there, that guy just really pissed me off is all.” It wasn’t a complete lie, the guy really did piss him off, but again, it wasn’t enough of a reason to have him snap at Denis.

All Denis could do though was shrug, smiling weakly towards his friend, “It’s cool man, come on, let’s not kill the mood before we even get a drink. Make it up to me by buying the first beer, yeah?”

It was a deal that Alex couldn’t say no to and after nudging his friend, Alex and Denis made their way towards the bar, wedging themselves into a couple seats before ordering the first round.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

You could already feel the buzz settling in once the sudden rush of heat hit you as you made your way into the club. You couldn’t remember what Jax said he put in the punch, but you knew having three cups probably wasn’t the smartest move. Everyone else seemed to be doing just fine, but then again - you also were the one running off of no sleep.

When the five of you got in, Gihan and Oscar instantly took off towards the dance floor, grinding up against one another to the sound of the music. You turned your nose slightly, more so at the sight of how obscene they looked. You heard Jess yell for them to get a room in which Gihan only flipped her off as a comeback. The remaining three of you headed towards the tables that were in the back of the club, grabbing one that would fit all of you before dumping your coats down.

“I’m going to get a drink, who’s coming with me?” Jaxon asked, clasping his hands together before grinning, clapping hands with Jess who announced that she would as well. Shaking your head, you felt Jaxon and Jess grab your arms, pulling you with them.

“So it seems even if I wanted to say no, I wouldn’t have had a choice.” You laughed as you stood at the end of the bar in between the two, waiting for one of the bartenders to grab your order. As you leaned against the bar, you couldn’t help but groan, your feet already killing you in the heels that Gihan and Jess offered you. It wasn’t that your outfit was uncomfortable or you hated it, but you didn’t see why you couldn’t just wear what you were wearing early.

“And what if there is a cute guy there who wants to take you home? You’re gonna leave wearing your work clothes?” Gihan asked, digging through her closet to try and find something for you to wear.

You could only roll your eyes, sitting on her bed, playing on your phone, “Gi, who says I wanna go home with someone? I got classes tomorrow, I’m not trying to wake up at some stranger’s house and figure out where the hell I am.”

Jess could only laugh at your annoyance, flopping down on the bed beside you, “Oh come on now, lighten up a bit. We are only trying to help you. You found your makeup bag and dolled yourself up, might as well finish the look off with something cute.”

Before you could ask why what you were wearing wasn’t cute, Gihan triumphantly stood up, presented the silky white pants and brown one shoulder tank top.

“I have a belt too,” She explained, moving to lay the outfit on the bed, “Snatch that waist of your’s up a bit.” You couldn’t help but laugh, looking down at the outfit before nodding, giving in to the makeover that Gihan was having with you.

“Thanks, Gi, yeah, this is great.” You slipped your vans off first before pulling your dress off, tossing it to the side before putting the outfit on that Gihan picked out for you. It was cute, and you were glad it wasn’t some 2006 hooker look that you feared she would give you - the last thing you needed was for someone you knew to see you looking like you were trying to pick someone up.

It was Jess who wanted to do your hair, pulling it out of the pigtails you had in earlier, fluffing your hair out before pinning some of it back out of your face. “There, now you look ready to go and have some fun.”

“Is that who I think it is?”

Looking up from his drink, Alex frowned, letting the straw dangle between his lips for a moment, squinting over at the end of the bar where Denis was pointing to, seeing Professor Dick and you. He tried to hide his excitement, playing it casual before nodding, “Oh yeah, it looks like it’s Professor,” He shrugged going back down to his drink, “She looks nice.”

The casual comment sent Denis laughing, looking back at Alex who was sipping down his Jack and Coke, “Nice? Man, she looks hot! For a teacher I mean...damn.”

Alex had to fight back his eyes from rolling, the twinge of jealousy settling in him. He knew that Denis was only looking at her because she was out of her typical teaching attire, or so he assumed given he’s only seen her now in two different outfits. Denis didn’t like her the way he did. Alex tried to suck his drink down, chewing on the straw now as he avoided the thoughts that ran through his head. When he glanced back up to see what you were doing, he frowned when he didn’t see you at the end of the bar anymore.

“No way! What are you two doing here?”

Turning around, Alex was pleasantly surprised to see that you had made your way over to them. There was a grin on your face as you shook your head, hands on your hips, “Don’t you both have homework you should be doing?” You teased, laughing as both men blushed.

“Oh, I’m only kidding. I’m sure you kids like to let loose sometimes too. Weird ain’t it though, running into your professor at the club?” You lifted your glass to your lips, finishing it off before wedging between them, motioning towards the bartender for a refill. “I’m buying their next round! I’m at the end seat!” You shouted over the music, watching the bartender nod in understandment.

Alex did his best to not get too hot and bothered by how close you were, your body practically flush against him with how tight the space was as you wedged yourself in the middle. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until you stepped back. Exhaling, Alex opened his mouth to speak before hearing Denis beat him to it.

“Hey, Professor! Now that you’re here, I actually had a question abo-”

“Oh no, no! I’m not answering any questions about the reading right now,” You let out a laugh and looked over at Alex, motioning towards Denis, “He always a goody-good?”

It was Alex’s turn to laugh, watching as Denis blushed from the teasing that came from you, “Oh yeah, can’t ever get him to loosen up.” He teased, winking at his friend who could only swat at him.

You laughed at how silly the two looked, shaking your head before taking a sip from your glass, “You boys are ridiculous. Listen, I’m going to go and have some fun with my friends...don’t, don’t be ratting me out to the board if you see us doing anything not family friendly, okay? I’ll pretend I don’t know you, if you pretend you don’t know me. Yeah?”

Before you turned to head back to your friends, you pointed at the two bottles of beer that were in front of them that you bought, “And don’t be telling anyone I’m out here buying you guys drinks.” You shot a wink their way before disappearing into the crowd.

Feeling his cheeks grow warm, Alex turned, taking the bottle into his hand before tilting his head back to drink. He typically wasn’t this flustered, but damn did you have to wink at him? Denis, on the other hand, was grinning ear to ear, nudging Alex with his elbow, “See? I told you she’s cool. What professor would buy their students booze at a club?”

Meanwhile on the other side of the club, as you returned back to your seat, you could only think about how silly it felt seeing students at the club. Of course the two of them were allowed, it’s not like they weren’t able to just because they went to school - but running into students at such a taboo place, it made you almost feel...wrong.

You slid into your seat at the table, Jess and Jaxon talking amongst themselves before they noticed you returning. Looking over at you, Jaxon’s smile faded slightly into a frown, “Where’d you go?” He asked, almost sounding possessive.

Trying not to think too much of it, you motioned at the bar, “A couple of students are here and I just went and said hi to them. Alex, a student from your film class, he was one of them. He’s here with one of his friends.”

At the mention of his name, Jaxon frowned, nodding once before glancing over at the bar, “So I see,” He picked up his drink and downed it quickly, setting the glass back on the table before glancing at you, “So what’s up with you and him?” He asked suddenly.

Taken back, you sat back a bit, not being able to help the laugh that escaped from you, “What are you talking about? Up with us? Alex? Jesus, Jax - he’s a student. What do you mean what’s going on between us?”

The way he shrugged his shoulders so carelessly made your blood boil. This wasn’t the first time he questioned our relationship with anyone of the opposite sex. Anyone who could be seen as a threat in any way towards him, he wanted out of the picture.

“He’s not the type to just go to the teacher's office hours. I just think it’s a little weird. You said you just met him yesterday? I’ve known him since he started college, okay? He’s not as nice as he likes to say he is.” Jaxon spun his finger around the rim of his glass. Jess, on the other hand, sat in awkward silence, not sure what to say while you sat on the other side, red in the face.

“Funny, I think the one who isn’t as nice as they like to say is you.” Your comment earned a jabbing glare your way from Jax, who’s own face began to turn red.

“At least I don’t play hard to get.” He mumbled, although both you and Jess very clearly caught what he said. Oh what a turn of events.

“So this is what it’s about? You’re still hung up on the fact that I turned you down?” You let out a laugh, so rocked by the disbelief that you weren’t even sure how to react, “If you weren’t such a presumptuous asshole, maybe I wouldn’t have turned you down.”

And you thought that was it. He fell silent and his drunk brain was malfunctioning, desperately trying to figure out what to say next. What came next though surprised all of you at the table.

It was almost an instinct. You caught what he said to you so quickly and then the next moment your drink was in his face. Serves him right for calling you a bitch.

Pushing yourself off the chair, you grabbed your coat and headed towards the exit, ignoring the calls from Jess and eventually Gihan and Oscar who were returning from the dance floor, confused as to what was all going on.

“Are you dense? What the fuck is your problem?” Jess demanded, shoving Jaxon’s arm as he tried to coward away in his drunk shame. She scoffed and shook her head, grabbing her own coat before beginning to chase after you, calling out your name over the music and crowd of people.

When you burst through the door, the breeze hitting your face, you quickly dug in your coat pocket for the carton of cigarettes, pulling one out before sparking a light, bringing the cigarette into your mouth and taking in a long inhale, blowing it out in a huff.

“Fucking prick.” You mumbled, moving away from the busy line and to the emptier side of the building, leaning against the wall as you smoked your cigarette, looking out at the road as cars rushed by, ignoring the people who walked by you.

You weren’t surprised to hear the sudden rush of clicks that came out of the club, your name called out as Jess rushed up to your side, “Hey, Jesus, I don’t know what that was about. You okay?”

Flicking your cigarette into the road, you exhaled your last puff before turning towards Jess, motioning towards the club, “I mean, yeah, but really what the fuck was that?” You did your best to not project your anger out onto Jess, but you couldn’t help the yelling that soon came out of you. “Who the fuck does he think he is to sit there and question anything I do? Hmm? I’m so sick of him. I’ve been playing nice for months now, defending him to everyone - and this is what I get back?” You shook your head, laughing as you fumbled into your pocket to get another cigarette, “No, I’m done. Done! I ain’t going back in there and I’m not speaking to him.”

Your hands were shaking from anger, trying to spark the lighter and light your next cigarette before Jess finally had enough of watching you struggle, stepping forward to take the lighter from your hand and lit the cigarette herself. You took a long inhale before exhaling, offering it to her, “Thanks…”

She took it without a second though, nodding once before inhaling, “Look,” She began, tilting her head back to blow the smoke out and not in your face, “I’m not saying you gotta listen to what he says, but there’s a good chance he’s not going to remember this in the morning. You gonna tell him or let him figure it out?”

You fell silent, debating with yourself on the best approach to this. “I’ll text him, tell him how it is and he can read it in the morning. Like I said though, I’m not talking with him. Not now, not ever. I’m done. I don’t care if you guys still hang out with him, that’s your choice, but don’t drag me into any group outings again if he’s going to be there.”

Nodding, Jess handed the cigarette back to you, watching as you quickly finished it off yourself, flicking it this time on the sidewalk before crushing it out. “You need a ride home? I can come back and pick you up after we drop Jax off at home.” You shook your head, declining the offer quickly.

“No, no I’ll figure something out. Thanks, though.” You smiled weakly at Jess and watched as she nodded again, reaching down to squeeze your hand. After a moment, she let go and turned, heading back inside to find the others, leaving you to your thoughts outside.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Alex had noticed your absence, or at least not seen you, for quite some time now. He knew he shouldn’t be worried, because you were a full grown adult and with friends, but what worried him was when he saw the table you were sitting at with only your friends and not you. At first he waited, hoping you were in the bathroom and coming back soon, but when you didn’t, that’s when he got nervous.

Denis seemed to be in a trance, perhaps it was the last shot he took, sending him over the edge; but whatever it was, he didn’t seem to be paying much attention to Alex fidgeting in his seat beside him.

“Hey, man, look. I don’t mean to be a buzzkill, but I think I better head home,” He hiccuped and groaned, feeling sick to his stomach, “I’m gonna catch a cab home, so don’t wait up for me, yeah? I had fun...see you tomorrow?”

Alex smiled and nodded, standing up to help Denis from slipping, grabbing his jean jacket from the stool before shaking his head, “Let me help you get a cab, okay?” Denis didn’t seem to protest, leaning into Alex’s hold as he pulled him out of the club and out onto the street, waving a cab down before helping Alex into the back.

When he told the cab driver the address, he smiled once more at Denis before patting his chest, “Take it easy, man. Call me if something happens and you need me, okay?” Denis nodded slowly, squeezing Alex’s hand before sighing, “Thanks, man. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Taking a step back, Alex watched the cab pull out, sighing as the sudden rush of cold air hit him, prompting him to pull his jean jacket around him tight. When he turned around on the sidewalk to start heading home, he wasn’t expecting to find you, standing outside, smoking a cigarette.

It took a moment for you to really process who it was, feeling a bit out of it. You had gone back in the club once after Jess left to get a couple drinks, slamming down a few shots out of anger before heading back outside, finishing the carton of cigarettes off shortly after.

Alex was the one to approach first, a worried expression on his face as he stepped closer to you, “Hey, what are you doing out here?” When he was close to your face, he noticed under the illuminated neon sign how red your eyes were, as if you were crying. You wouldn’t admit it to him, but you were, crying pathetically out on the street.

“O-Oh! Hey...Alex…” You felt yourself struggle to make a cohesive sentence, leaning against the side of the building for support. “What are you still doing here? Is Denisss here?”

When you began to slip, losing your balance, Alex was beside you in seconds, catching you and holding you in his arms, “Hey, woah, careful!” He helped you regain your balance, although his arms stayed wrapped around you, “Denis just left...I could ask you the same. Why aren’t you inside with your friends?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you adjusted your stance, leaning your weight into him. You noticed how warm he felt, despite standing outside in the cold, and how he smelled of a mixture of liquor and cigarettes. To anyone else, you’d probably gag at the smell, but in that moment, it was comforting.

“My friends are not someone I want to see right now.” You explained, turning your head into his chest, resting your cheek against him.

Was it friends? Or someone specific? Alex of course wouldn’t push it - if you could hardly stand on your own, how did he expect you to explain something to him that obviously was a little complex.

He only nodded his head, bringing his hand to your head for a moment, hovering his palm over your head before gently resting it on top of your hair.

“Do you have a way home? Do you need a way home?” He didn’t know if he trusted you or a cab driver enough to make sure you got home safely. It wasn’t something he was too thrilled on, despite the obvious attraction for you, but he began to realize it was your only option.

“Why don’t I take you home? To my place?” He suggested, coaxing you to stand up as he began to walk you down the sidewalk carefully, back to his apartment, “I can take you home in the morning. But you should probably sleep.”

You were the one to stop, pulling yourself away from him slightly. Despite being a little too drunk for your liking, you still felt in your gut that this wasn’t right, “Alex...I don’t know if I can do that. It’s not appro-”

Alex quickly stopped you, balancing you as you began to lean too far back, “I know, but you can’t get home alone. Please, just for tonight. You can sleep in my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch. You can trust me.”

You should have turned away, asked for him to take you back inside to your friends. You would deal with Jax for the extra hour if you had to if it meant ending back up in your own bed...but for some reason, you knew that just wasn’t going to work tonight.

And in some sick way, you did trust Alex. More than perhaps anyone else in that moment. The student you just met, you trusted him more than your own friends.

Nodding your head slowly, after a moment, you sighed and leaned closer to him, “Okay...thank you.” You felt the embarrassment sinking in, the idea of a student taking care of you made your stomach twist...or was it the one too many drinks?

It didn’t take long for Alex to get you to his apartment. He only struggled when it came to the stairs, practically having to carry you as your legs began to turn into jello on the second flight of stairs. He remembered doing this for his mother’s birthday, after her coma, when she wanted an old friend to come over.

He was so drunk, Alex remembered, that he had to help him shower and dress. Thankfully for Alex now, all that was the issue was getting you up the stairs. And finally, when he did, Alex could only sigh in relief, pushing his front door open as he coaxed you onto the couch. He locked the door before returning back to you, kneeling as he pulled your heels from your feet, putting them near the door for you to find easily in the morning.

“Okay, come on, let’s get you to bed.” Bending down, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you up, tightening his grip so you wouldn’t slip, turning to his right to walk with you towards his bedroom. He did his best to not trip over the stuff on his floor, making sure to watch your feet so you wouldn’t do the same. He became almost embarrassed with how messy it was. Thankfully you were too drunk to realize the mess, and hopefully in the morning you wouldn’t pay too much attention to it.

He got you to lay back on his bed, adjusting the pillows under your head before pulling the duvet up to cover you. “Okay, you good? I’m going to be out in the living room, I’ll keep the dorm open in case you need anything. If you do, just yell and I’ll come in.”

You nodded, eyes closed as you tried to relax. Your head was spinning and your heart was racing. “Thank you, Alex.” You mumbled, body curling under the duvet.

Smiling, Alex nodded and stood up, turning the lamp off, leaving the lava lamp on, before heading out of his room and into the living room again. He let out a sigh as he picked up one of the pillows by the window, a blanket as well, before making his way to the couch, kicking his own shoes off and tugging his jacket off before laying down. Alex adjusted the blanket to cover him before staring up at the ceiling.

He waited until he heard you fall asleep, not taking too long before he heard your deep breathing, a faint snore kick in. Closing his eyes, Alex smiled to himself, soon letting sleep take him over as well.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

The next morning, Alex woke to the sound of the birds chirping from outside, the sun peeking through the curtain and hitting him in the eye. With a groan, he sat up, rubbing his eyes and processed his surroundings. He felt his eyes droop shut again, tired from the night before. Feeling his phone buzz in his pocket, he leaned to the side and pulled out his phone, looking to see that his boss had texted him, asking him where he was.

It was then that he realized that Alex had work. Muttering a string of swears, Alex quickly texted his boss, explaining that he wouldn’t be able to come in today due to him feeling under the weather. He had hoped that Denis didn’t text something similar - the last thing he wanted or needed was for his boss to call and chew their asses out.

When Alex didn’t get a text back, he assumed that his boss was pissed, but accepted the fact that he wasn’t coming in. Swinging his legs off the couch, Alex took a deep breath, letting out a yawn before pushing himself off the couch, stretching and cracking his joints.

The apartment felt particularly quiet that morning, and Alex couldn’t figure out why. That, and why he was sleeping on the couch. When he headed from the living room and to his room, seeing his bed made, a scribbled note on the pillow, he carefully made his way over, picking up the note.

Alex,

Thanks for letting me stay the night. I’m going to assume that nothing happened and I don’t need to change my name and flee the country - given that we were in separate rooms and wearing our clothes.

While I appreciate the gesture, I would like to apologize for my behavior. As your professor I recognize how inappropriate it was last night and I would like for this to stay between the two of us. Along with that, I think it would be for the better if perhaps you didn’t sit in my class. Instead, go to Professor Thorne’s office hours - I’m sure he would appreciate it.

Again, thank you.

Alex had to read the letter four times before he finally really processed what it was that you wrote. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew Professor Dick must have said something to you last night, and that’s why you were acting this way. But...what if it wasn’t him at all? And this truly was your own words, how you really felt?

Stuffing the letter in his jeans, Alex quickly changed his shirt, freshening himself up before grabbing his school bag and heading out of his apartment. He needed to hear from you what this meant, if you truly meant this, or just what exactly was going on.

By the time he got on his scooter and made it onto campus, it was only going on 12:30, meaning there was a good chance you weren’t there yet. When he made his way up the stairs and into the English department, down the hall to the end where your office was, he stopped short, noticing that you were at your desk, back turned towards the door.

He took a deep breath first, pushing down on the handle before opening the door quietly, knocking on the door to signal you were there before shutting it behind you. When you had turned around, you hadn’t expected to see Alex, with your letter in his hand now. It was then that you felt your face grow hot, standing up from your chair.

“Alex, good afternoon. Is there something I can do for you?” You asked casually, trying to avoid staring at the letter to make it known just how oblivious you were trying to act with the situation. Shaking his head, Alex took two steps forward, stopping when he noticed you take a step back.

“I don’t get it. What happened? I mean, I read what you wrote, but it just doesn’t make sense.”

“What don’t you get?” You felt your eyebrows furrow before looking behind him at the window, making sure nobody was listening before back at him. “Look, I appreciate what you did for me last night, but that was a mistake, okay? I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that. I’m your professor and you’re my student. What happened was incredibly inappropriate and I do not feel comfortable right now with everything going on.”

It felt so sudden. The past two days were truly a blur. One minute you were meeting a student who was eager to join your class, the next you were in his bed drunk. Maybe it was what Jaxon had told you that made your head spin so violently, lash out at Alex with your own fear - whatever it was though, you knew that as a professor, your only choice was to be professional.

“So, what? I’m just supposed to walk away from this and pretend it never happened?” Alex asked suddenly his own irritation building. He knew this wasn’t you - it didn’t take a genius to know that you weren’t the type to push a student away like this, even if you had made a mistake.

He took a step forward, his expression softening, “Did Professor Thorne say something to you last night? Did he do something?” He was taken back with just how quickly your own expression changed. Going from a rather solemn one to red, pure rage. It was as if he tripped over the wire of a ticking time bomb.

“Even if Professor Thorne were to have said something last night, that is none of your concern. I’m sorry Alex, but I believe you have overstayed your welcome. Please, leave my office.” You pointed towards the door, eyes shifted down as the tears began to build. You hated making a student feel so confused, so sad, but in this case, you knew it was only for the better.

With his mouth fallen open, Alex stared at you for another moment, almost waiting for you to tell him to stay, that you were sorry and changed your mind. But it didn’t happen, it never came. He stifled a laugh and shook his head, looking her once over before turning and leaving her office, slamming the door shut behind him as he made his way down the hall.

He was slightly disappointed to see that Professor Thorne had not been in his office that day, because if he was, Alex knew he wouldn’t have been a student for much longer.

#daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #daniel bruehl #alex kerner #alex kerner imagine #alex kerner smut #alex kerner x reader #good bye lenin #goodbye lenin #sweet disposition

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randomsnakesimp · 3 years

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Day 28: what if...?

Just a couple of things I feel would have been possible (based on my interpretations/hc of the comics, not canon)

- so, obviously, what if Phobos and Cedric actually dated? While I am not a fan of romantic partners as emotional mules, I do think that in their case, just having someone might have made for a huge improvement as they don't have access to therapists. So while they likely would not have been good, per se, they would have been better than they are now, as being content eases compassion. I also feel Phobos would be more comfortable handing Cedric autonomous power, and Cedric would be more confident in doing what he feels is right, so Meridian would have a slightly more competent rule and this would ease the population (they'd still suck, but honestly, probably so does Elyon). Lastly, they'd distract one another from villaining, because Cedric would require scheduled marriage at the quietest of times and comic Phobos is so fucking lazy he can't have sex twice a week AND fight the guardians of the veil.

- what if Alborn and Miriadel took toddler Cedric along with Elyon? I already said above that I feel Cedric and Phobos are each others emotional support - so I feel with Cedric taken away, Phobos would go for either one of two extremes: he'd either become completely unhinged and destructive or he'd go apathetic. In either case he'd also lack planning abilities, so Meridian would probably be in utter chaos. In the latter case, someone else might actually take the throne. Either way, the guardians would likely be faced with a much worse, much more dangerous enemy once they get to Meridian. Cedric, on the other hand, would probably be a horribly over doting big brother to Elyon and the most annoying overachiever Sheffield Institute ever taught. I also feel that he'd be more questioning than Elyon, as he'd have more clear memory of Meridian, and at some point figure out where they came from. This would provide Elyon with more time to mature and train for her destiny. Also, once Elyon takes the throne she would have him by her side, and if nothing else he'd make sure she doesn't forget appointments and has all the facts necessary.

- what if Elyon was male and Phobos female? I feel those two are more similar than they like to think and Phobos is sort of a "there, but for the grace of God, go I". So they'd probably switch roles, but since Elyon is the younger one she'd have no chance and just be this bitter emo strolling the castle. (In the same way I think Phobos and Elyon would be a bit too similar had their mother and the people accepted and loved both).

- what if Caleb had decided to stay and spy in the castle rather than run away? I assume he doesn't remember much of the castle, as he was in a trance as a whisperer and his sentience only started once he woke, to which he immediately ran off. I don't think it takes a genius, if given the information the whisperers have access to, to figure out Cedric would swoon for the first person to be nice to him, so that plan writes itself. He'd probably be super petty about it once he finds out Phobos is just too stupid to communicate his feelings. Like, have his final act before betraying Phobos be fucking Cedric in clear earshot of him.

- what if Ludmoore was living in Meridian during canon? As he wouldn't have had decades to become consumed by his entrapment, he'd probably be what Blunk should have been - the chaotic neutral with his own agenda. He'd be doing everything in the name of science (or for the lols) and align himself with whatever side suits those needs best at the moment. Definitely an interesting addition, I'd think, and probably the cause of that one special where everyone has to work together as he accidentally infected the city with a pathogen that turns people random ages every time they sneeze.

That's it for today, folks.

I feel like most other interesting questions would be concerning later comics, but the issue there is that I'd first have to establish how much of the canon actually makes sense to me, and what should have been, and I don't want to overload you. However, if there's an issue or arc that you'd like my thoughts on, I'll gladly tell you^^

#30dayswitchversary #w.i.t.c.h.#Day 28

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rohad93 · 4 years

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Moonlit Masquerade: Mother of the Bride

Part 13 of the Moonlit Masquerade Series

Amity sat quietly at the kitchen table, having her customary morning cup of tea with Lilith before the sun came up. She had become a master at slipping out of bed without disturbing Luz even a little, depending on how wrapped around her the human was, usually it was just an arm, but sometimes she was snaked around her like a python.

Even Hooty was still asleep, so it was quite still in the house. Usually, they chatted but it was quiet this morning, Amity lost in her thoughts and Lilith content to let her think in the quiet, lost in her own idle thoughts.

She had something to do today, something she had been putting off for almost two weeks now, but there was nothing left to do but rip the bandage off and be done with it. She sighed quietly into her cup of black tea, making Lilith look up at her.

“Something on your mind, Amity?” she finally asked

“I’m going to see my parents today, tell them that Luz and I are getting married,” she says.

“I see, I was under the impression that you didn’t speak to your parents anymore,” Lilith hummed.

“To my mother, no. She prefers to try and send passive-aggressive messages through my siblings though from time to time. I do keep in occasional contact with my father though, I don’t want to lump him in with her, he was never the warmest man, but I don’t think he was ever aware of the kinds of things that went on when I was a kid…” Amity frowned into her cup.

“If you’d like my opinion…,” Lilith trailed off and Amity nodded, she valued the opinion of her once mentor, now friend, and still occasional mentor. They didn’t always agree, but they had both changed a lot in six years. Amity was older and wiser, able to more easily see things from Lilith’s point of view, while Lilith had done much growing of her own, looking to find more gray areas in life other than the stark black and white she had believed in for so long “His complacency is no less at fault then your mother’s manipulative maliciousness.”

Amity frowned, in ways, she knew Lilith was right, if her father hadn’t been so buried in work all the time and a little more attentive to his children, the three of them wouldn’t have suffered as they had under their mother’s thumb.

The waters were muddied though. For all his shortcomings, Amity loved her father and found difficulty condemning him to the same degree as her mother. He had been the one to teach her abomination magic and encouraged her curiosity for everything, kindled her voracious appetite for reading and learning as a child.

Whereas her mother...

Everything about Odalia Blight brought out the worst in Amity, and she had been all too happy to help foster what Amity viewed now, as some of her less desirable personality traits. Her at times, baneful pride and self-destructive need to overachieve to please people, for example.

To be honest, she wasn’t sure where she would be right now if a certain human hadn’t barreled into her life with all the force of a B-5 gorenado.

She surely would never have had the courage to start standing up to her and have the screaming match just after her eighteenth birthday that led to her moving out. Over her hair no less, though as Luz had once said, if it was just about hair, she wouldn’t be so upset. It was never ‘just’ about her hair. It was so much more than that.

It was hard to believe that was three years ago

An eighteen-year-old Amity ran through the woods, panting and tears still dripping down her cheeks as she made a beeline for the owl house through the darkness of night and the thick trees, her breath coming out in clouds in the cool night air of early fall.

She felt relief flood her when the eclectic demon house came into view.

She didn’t even bother knocking, the owl house had become her second home and Eda told her to just come in when she came over. Hooty also saw her coming and, perhaps seeing her tears and frantic face, for once, simply opened for her.

Luz was sitting on the couch doing homework when the door swung open and she flew into the living room, stopping only long enough to look around and for her eyes to land on Luz.

“Amity?” Luz sat up in surprise, even more so when Amity quickly crossed the room and threw herself into her girlfriend’s open arms, burying her face in her neck.

“What’s wrong?” Luz asked, the panic clear in her voice as Amity curled up in her lap and wept into her shoulder.

Luz held her till what was left of her tears had fallen and dried. At one point both Clawthorne sisters had stuck their heads out of the kitchen to check on them and Luz waved them away as she comfortingly rubbed her back.

When she finally calmed, Luz asked her again what was wrong.

“I had a fight with my mom. A big, screaming, fight,” she finally admitted, Luz’s eyes were the size of saucers at that.

“About what? Me again?” she grimaced and Amity shook her head from her place, nose buried in Luz’s neck.

“No, my hair,” she mumbled.

“Oh, yeah, I noticed your roots are starting to get long again…,” Luz hummed, reaching up to run her fingers through said hair. Amity leaned into the comforting touch. “So, what happened?” she asked quietly.

“I told her I wasn’t going to dye it anymore. I wasn’t a child and could make my own choices, and I wanted it to be natural again. She said I was being childish, that we should match… then said that it was your fault, that you influenced all my ‘bad decisions’,” Amity growled, scowling to herself. “So yeah… we spent fifteen minutes screaming at each other till she said that as long as I lived under her roof I’d do as she says, so I just ran out of the house…”

“I’m sorry, Amor,” Luz hummed.

“It’s not your fault,” she sighed, leaning back to look at her. “Titan… I just wish I had somewhere else to go, anywhere…”

“Well, you’re eighteen, why don’t you move out?” Luz suggested.

“Where would I go? If I moved out I’d have to drop out of school and work so I could afford a place to live, and this is our final year….” Amity frowned. “What coven would take a drop out? I think I’m just going to have to suck it up till spring…”

“That’s almost a year from now, and it seems it's only getting worse at home, Amity,” Luz said worriedly. Things had been escalating in the last year between Amity and her mother, but especially in the last three weeks since her eighteenth birthday.

“I know… but what choice do I have? I have to finish school,” she sighed, going limp against her warm girlfriend, who held her comfortingly.

“Could live here.”

They both jolted, turning to look at Eda, leaning in the doorway to the kitchen, arms folded.

“W-what?” Amity blinked at her, and Luz was looking at her just as bewildered. Eda sighed, walking fully into the living room, Lilith poking her head out of the kitchen behind her.

“You can live here, Kid,” she said again.

“I couldn’t… I don’t… I couldn’t be an imposition to you like that, Eda,” Amity finally said frowning.

“Imposition? You’re the quietest person who ever comes over here, and look at all these free-loaders!” She gestured to Lilith, Luz, and King, laying curled up asleep in the chair across from them, snoring.

“Hey!” Luz yelped and Lilith frowned.

“What’s one more? Besides, it’s one more pair of hands to do chores and stuff.” She shrugged.

“I… I don’t…” Her eyes were starting to burn again and Eda noticed, giving her an easy smile.

“Look, you’re a good kid, Amity, you just ended up with crap parents, with skewed priorities, and you’ve always been good to Luz, hell, you been good to us.” she gestured to herself and Lilith, who nodded as she walked into the room to stand next to her sister. “It’s not like you’re not here all the time anyway,” she snorted with a grin.

“What do you, think, babe?”

She turned to look at Luz who was looking back at her with barely restrained glee.

“I… Okay…,” she finally said, a small smile pulling at her lips.

“Whoo!” Luz jumped up, Amity held aloft bridal style in her arms.

“Luz!” Amity yelped at the sudden movement. Eda chuckled and Lilith smiled at the two.

“We’re living together!” Luz grinned and Amity blushed at the declaration as it really sank in.

She was now living with her girlfriend…

“Oh, right… we need to have a quick talk.” Eda crossed her arms and both girls' faces paled.

“Ay dios mio, not another talk!” Luz looked at her fearfully.

“No! Not that talk… not exactly,” Eda grumbled, scratching the back of her head. “There are no other rooms, and obviously you’re not gonna live on the couch, so you and Luz are gonna be sharing a room, so it’s time for a change of rules,” she sighed. “You’re eighteen…” she pointed at Amity. “And you will be here soon,” she pointed at Luz. “And I’m not stupid enough to think I can stop it, so from now on, doors closed, always.” Eda declared as the two turned red as fresh apple blood and Lilith snickered behind her closed hand. “And I swear to the Titan, the first time I get woken up in the middle of the night, you’re living on the couch!” she pointed at Luz who guffawed at that.

“Why me!?” she shouted. Eda leaned down so her face was only a few inches from Luz’s.

“Because you’re the one I always hear,” she hissed with a frown, and Luz’s face was practically glowing at that. Lilith was choking on her , not so restrained, laughter.

Despite her own bright face, Amity snorted, biting her lip, Luz looked at her with a face that spoke loudly of the betrayal she felt.

“So, let’s go get your stuff!” Eda leaned back and clapped her hands.

“Right now?” Amity blanched.

“No time like the present!” Eda held out her hand and her staff flew into the room. Lilith finally recovered and nodded, summing her own staff.

“Yeah!” Luz was grinning at her again and Amity giggled.

“Luz, you can set me down now.” she grinned at her.

“Oh, right,” she chuckled.

She pulled out her scroll and quickly called her sister and told her and Edric to throw all her clothes in a box.

“What, why?” Emira’s confused voice said in her ear.

“Because I’m moving,” she said simply as they left the owl house on the two older witch’s staves. There was a long pause on the other end of the scroll.

‘WHAT!?” Both twins were suddenly screaming in her ear.

When they showed up, she and Luz hurried inside, luckily avoiding her mother and father. The twins were standing in her room with her clothes all packed. They quickly explained the situation as they collected all of Amity’s personal belongings, she knew how big Luz’s room was so she had to make some sacrifices in her books and some other things, but Amity was now caught up in a giddy euphoria of leaving this place that had, for years, felt like a prison. She grabbed only what was most important to her. Her special box of keepsakes, her clothes, her diary, and a couple of little things. In hindsight, it was a little sad how unattached she was to most of the things in the room and how all the important things in her life fit into two decent sized boxes. They were the few things she had chosen for herself.

She could examine that later, for now, she just wanted out.

The twins offered to help carry them, but despite the fact they were both twenty, they still lived here, and Amity didn’t want to make things harder for her siblings if they ran into their parents.

“I can’t believe you’re really leaving,” Emira sniffled a little as they followed Amity and Luz down the stairs.

“Honestly, this is pretty hardcore and I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder of you, Mittens,” Edric said and Emira nodded.

“We’re gonna miss you,” her sister added.

Amity rolled her eyes even as she smiled.

“I’m moving into the owl house, I’m not leaving the demon realm.”

“But still!” Edric threw up his hands.

“You guys are always welcome at the house,” Luz supplied helpfully as they walked toward the front door.

“What is going on here?” A voice stopped them all cold at the door.

Coming out of his study was Alador and Odalia Blight.

“Oh, uh, good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Blight…,” Luz said cautiously. Alador nodded at Luz, but his gold gaze quickly shifted to his youngest daughter.

“Finally come home I see, Amity.” Odalia frowned at her youngest, completely ignoring Luz, which only made Amity angrier and she frowned, glaring at her mother.

“What is this?” Alador questioned, holding a hand at the two of them and the boxes.

“Mother informed me earlier tonight that so long as I live here I can’t make my own choices, despite being an adult, so… I’m not going to live here anymore.” Amity declared, standing up straight, even as she held her box of things in front of her like a makeshift barrier between herself and her parents. Luz shifted nervously from foot to foot while the twins glanced cautiously at each other.

Both older Blights' faces showed their shock at the declaration.

“What?” Odalia’s face is the picture of shocked outrage while Alador’s is sheer disbelief.

“Eda was kind enough to allow me to live at the owl house while I finish school,” Amity said.

“Amity…,” Alador started, and for the first time since Amity can remember, looking completely shocked.

“Do you see what allowing her to associate with this human has done, Alador?!” Odalia turned to her husband, scowling, as he turned his shocked gaze to her. Anger flared up in Amity, scorching hot.

“This isn’t about Luz! This is about you!” Amity practically screamed at her mother, making everyone jump and stare at her with wide eyes. “This is about you, controlling and manipulating me my entire life, telling me how to behave and dress. Who I could be friends with and what color my damn hair should be!” She unloaded on the older witch, voice cracking. “I’m tired of pretending I’m perfect, I’m not, I’m never going to be and you can’t make me by trying to change me! I’m tired of it and I don’t have to take it anymore… so I’m leaving, and you won’t have to worry about it or me embarrassing you or just me in general anymore!” Amity is breathing heavily as she finishes her tirade, fueled by years of neglect and overbearing controllingness.

Everyone is looking at her with wide eyes. Luz’s chest aches for her girlfriend and the twins are standing there with their jaw hanging open.

“What? Your hair?… Amity…,” Alador doesn’t understand what’s going on and tries to speak, but his wife is quicker.

“You ungrateful girl, after everything we’ve done for you, and you would throw it all away, for that?” She holds her hand out at Luz and Amity is seeing red, not just because of the insult to her girlfriend, but that she’s standing here, screaming at her and her mother still doesn’t hear anything she says to her.

“I told you, this isn’t about Luz! But yes, yes I would, for her and for the chance to finally just be me, and not just your dress up figurine!” she snarls, but then clutches the box tightly, sighing heavily. “I’m wasting my breath…” She turned on heel and started toward the door.

“Amity!” Alador stepped forward, calling his daughter, but before he could say anything else Odalia was calling at her back.

“If you step out that door, don’t ever think of coming back!”

The twins gasp, looking at their mother, not shocked, but horrified at the declaration.

“Odalia!” Alador whips around to face his wife, no longer is his tone shocked, but now a deep rumbling anger fills his voice.

Amity stops mid-step, staring out the front door at Eda and Lilith who are standing on the porch, watching, both their faces set in deep frowns, no doubt they heard everything.

Amity closes her eyes as she’s struck by how final this all is, but what shocks her is how much it hurts, that this was how it has to be between her and her mother, because so long as Amity allowed it, Odalia would never release her talons on her, let her live her own life.

So this was how it had to be.

She turns to look over her shoulder and Odalia is looking down her nose at her in that imperious way that has been the centerfold of Amity’s nightmares all her life. Her hard, olive gaze is expectant, expecting Amity to turn around and grovel for forgiveness, but not this time; never again.

Her jaw clenched, and her grip on the box tightens and she turns to her father, who for the first time in her life that she can remember, looks lost.

“Bye, Dad,” she says quietly and turns to stride out the door, never once looking back. Eda and Lilith step out of her way as she walks across the yard to the gate. Luz followed her silently.

The ride back to the owl house is quiet and it’s only then, flying through the dark, quiet sky that Amity lets the tears fall. She leans her face into Lilith’s back and cries. The older Clawthorne silently reached back and patted her leg comfortingly.

She cries all the way home.

Eda and Lilith don’t say anything as they watch the two teens go up the stairs

The second they set her things down on the floor of Luz’s… their room, she crawls into the bed, shoes and all, and curls into a ball. Luz hasn’t said a word since they left Blight Manor, and she doesn’t still as she crawls into bed behind Amity and holds her close, it’s all she can do.

She knows Amity is hurting and hates that there's nothing she can do about it, so she settles for holding her, a silent reminder that she’s here if she needs her.

Amity sighed, coming out of her memories to see Lilith looking at her concerned. Amity smiled at her.

“I’m fine, just…. thinking,” she answers the unasked question, and Lilith nods.

It’s then that they hear the tell-tale sound of feet on the stairs and Luz walks into the kitchen, dressed, and her staff in hand.

“Morning Lily.” She smiles at Lilith, who echoes the greeting. She leaned down to kiss Amity. “Morning, sneaky.” she grins and Amity chuckles.

“You sleep like a hibernating bear-cobra, I hardly have to be that sneaky.” she smiled at Luz over the rim of her teacup as she took a sip. Luz walked over to the counter and with a spin of her staff, all her potions gathered themselves from the counter and bundled themselves together in a convenient sack, hanging from the staff.

“I know for a fact you’re abnormally quiet and light-footed.” Luz grinned at her, hefting her wares over her shoulder as she grabbed a bottle of apple blood out of the fridge.

Amity just smirks at her.

“Welp, I’m off to cure the boils, rashes, and insomnia of the wonderful people of the Boiling Isles,” she declared like she was leaving for battle.

“What would the people do without you and your glorious, self-sacrificing ways, my dear?” Amity giggled as she stood from the table and set her cup in the sink.

“We pray that they never have to find out, mi amor.” Luz winked with a grin. Lilith rolled her eyes at the two, even as she smiled to herself.

“I need to get going myself, I’ll walk you out,” Amity followed her out.

“Have a good day,” Lilith called after them and they called back goodbyes.

“You got big plans for the day?” Luz asked as they closed the front door behind them.

“Just some errands to run…,” she said, not a lie, she did have some errands to run, but she carefully didn’t mention her trip to Blight Manor, it would only worry her. Luz nodded and she mounted her staff. “Don’t work too hard, querida,” Amity mumbled against her lips as she kissed her goodbye. Luz smiled at her.

“You forget who my mom is, I learned from the best how not to work hard,” she laughed and Amity rolled her eyes, both at Luz and that statement. There are few people who work harder than Luz, but she lets her jest.

“Have a good day!” Luz blows her a kiss as she flies off toward town.

Amity watches her go before summoning her own staff and taking off in the opposite direction, toward Blight Manor.

It’s a short ride and all too soon the large, opulent house comes into view.

Amity frowned to herself as she slid from her staff, standing outside the gates to her childhood home, and looked up at it's dark, imposing walls.

Once this place had been her worst nightmare, the fear of being constantly trapped within its walls, forced to dance along with her mother’s every pull of the string. She’d known since she was a child that her mother had been a conniving manipulator, but she had been a child, helpless to fight against it. Her and her siblings, though the twins did everything they could to help shield her from the worst of it, something she sometimes felt she did not voice enough thanks for, though, even when she did the two would hear none of it, they had all had each other’s backs.

Speaking of…

Edric and Emira were standing on the porch, waving at her as she walks through the gate and she smiles at them, even as she rolls her eyes when she sees that Edric still has that ridiculous mustache he insisted on growing.

“Well, well, if it isn’t one of the great heroes of the rebellion! To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?” Edric asks with a bow. Emira rolls her eyes and elbows him before jumping on Amity in a tight hug.

“We haven’t seen you in weeks!” Emira whined as Amity laughed into her shoulder.

“Except for the picture of that pretty rock you sent us, let’s see it!’ Edric grinned and Amity rolled her eyes as Emira released her and nodded.

“Yeah, let’s just see what our future sister-in-law was able to pull together,” she smiled, grabbing Amity’s left hand to hold up for both twins to examine her ring.

“Very nice,” Edric whistled.

“It’s beautiful, Amity,” Emira agreed. “We’re so happy for the two of you,” she said and Edric nodded in agreement.

“Thanks, we’ve already decided on a date. The thirty-first of October,” she says and Edric laughs.

“Halloween? That’s very ‘Luz’ actually.” He grinned.

“Actually, it was my idea. that‘s the date of the next blue moon.” She smiled fondly at the memories the mention of the lunar event brings.

“Aww, that’s sweet,” Emira coos, she’s partially teasing, partially sincere, it is a romantic idea.

“You two are still ‘that’ couple…” Edric rolled his eyes, even as he’s grinning. “Ridiculous,”

“What’s ridiculous is that mustache,” Amity claps back, hand on her hip, making Emira snort and Edric frown.

“I think it’s distinguishing,” he huffed.

“Distinguishing from what? Good looking facial hair?” Amity cocks a brow, smirking, and Emira barks a laugh.

“I told you, it’s terrible,” his twin laughs.

“Please shave it before the wedding, or you can’t be in any photos,” Amity tells him, half-seriously. He crossed his arms and huffs.

“Fine…”

“So… are they here?” Amity asks and the jovial mood dissipates.

“Yeah, they’re in dad’s study.” Emira frowns and Amity nods as she walks past them into the house.

The memories that hit her when she steps inside are not good and she pushes them away as she walks down the hall with her siblings.

Edric knocks and their father’s voice sounds back through the door.

“Yes?”

“You have a visitor,” he says.

“Come in.”

He opens the door and the twins walk in ahead of her before stepping to either side of the doorway.

Their parents' faces turn surprised before Odalia’s turns sour again.

“Amity!” Alador quickly stands from his desk and walks around it toward her.

To say Amity is surprised when her father wraps his arms around her in a tight hug is an understatement, but it fades quickly and she smiles and hugs him back.

“Hi, Dad.” She squeezed him before stepping back to look at him. There are a few more lines in his face and grays weaving their way through his auburn hair and beard than the last time she saw him in person, but he otherwise looked unchanged.

“You look wonderful.” he smiled, brushing his fingers through her own long, auburn hair, gold eyes burning with a warmth that shocks her.

“Thank you,” she smiled.

“To what do we owe this, unannounced, visit after three years?” her mother finally speaks up, drawing her gaze and Amity frowns. The message is clear, she is not welcome here, and that is fine by her.

“Worry not, I won’t be taking up much of your time,” she bit out.

“Nonsense, come sit.” Alador offered, but Amity shook her head.

“I have things I need to take care of for the council, I can’t stay long.” she smiled sadly at him, ignoring the look her mother was giving her at the mention of the council and wanted to smirk.

The Blight family had of course sided with the emperor, or at least her parents and extended family had, until the tides of the war had changed and it became clear that the rebellion was winning, then they had switched sides. After the rebellion was over the Blight family was one of the upper-class families that had been forced to pay reparations for their part in the initial battles against them and were now viewed less favorably by the people of the Isles, the loss of status was something that Amity knew from her siblings, left Odalia quite bitter. No doubt she blames Amity and of course, Luz, for their parts in the leadership of the rebellion.

“I wanted to come and share some news with you,” she told her father, who looked at her expectantly. “Luz and I are getting married at the end of October,” she tells him and both her parents are surprised by this. She takes a sick satisfaction in her mother’s scandalized face.

“That’s wonderful, Amity,” He smiles at her as he gently takes her hand to look at the ring adorning her finger and Amity smiles. Odalia makes a disgruntled, disgusted noise, making her father frown.

“I can’t believe you intend to drag this family name through the mud further than you already have, first by taking part in that… ill-conceived, rebellion, but now by giving it to a human.” Odalia blight almost spits the word.

“The ‘family name’...” Amity spat back. “...has never done anything except make me miserable and I want to be done with it.” Alador’s brows shot up and Odalia scowled. “That’s why when Luz and I get married I’m changing my name to Noceda,” she informed them with finality. “I came here today as a courtesy, one you don’t deserve,” she said to her mother. “And to ask you if you’d come, Dad.” Amity turned away from her mother to look at her father, who is still looking at her, face full of surprise. “I’d very much like you to be there.” she looks at him pleadingly. “You don’t need to answer now though, I just wanted to let you know.” She smiled at him and turned to go, but not before her mother landed one last parting shot.

“Even before the human, you were a disgrace to this family, Amity.”

“Odalia, that’s enough!” Alador roared, whipping around to glare at his wife, magic energy crackles in the air around him that makes the hair on the back of all three Blight children’s necks stand on end.

The venom that drips from her mother’s statement does not surprise Amity, and despite how much she has grown to hate and resent her mother for the years of manipulation and verbal abuse thinly disguised as concern, deep in her core, the words still burn her. She hates the green-haired woman standing behind her, yet she’s her mother, the only one she has, unlike Luz, and the fact that the two despise each other claws at a tender place in her heart that had been an open, raw wound since she was a child, a place inside her that had always longed for the kind of relationship her friends had with their parents, no matter how impossible that is, and she knows it.

So instead she straightens her spine and pulls back her shoulders, steeling herself and trying not to look at her siblings as they stand by the door to their father’s office, a mix of anger and sadness on their near-identical faces.

“Then it really shouldn’t matter to you who I marry, or what my name is, should it?” Are her parting words as she strides out of the office and down the hall, the twins follow a second behind her, but neither say anything till they are on the front porch.

“You okay, sis?” Edric asks her finally.

“No,” she answers them honestly. “But I didn’t expect anything different…” She summons her staff and mounts it; she can’t be gone from here quick enough.

“Let us know if you need anything, okay?” Emira asks, frowning.

Amity looks at the twins, their concern clear as day on their faces and Amity dismounts her staff to wrap her arms around them both and they squeeze her back tightly.

“We love you,” They both say, and Amity knows fewer things are truer than that, for which she could never be more grateful.

“I love you both, too.” She prys herself from her clinging siblings with a huff of a laugh.

She quickly jumps on her staff and flies away from Blight Manor, for the last time.

Tears are starting to burn and blur her vision and as much as she’d like to play it off as the wind whipping past her face, she knows it isn’t. The confrontation left her feeling raw, despite its brevity, she knows for certain that this is the last time she will return to her childhood home. There is nothing left to say to her mother and Amity knows she will never change.

Her grip on her staff is tight.

She needed Luz.

She finds her in her usual space in the market, hocking potions to the people of the Isles, though that makes it sound like it’s a scam, her business is far more reputable than Eda’s ever was, much to the older witch’s chagrin. Luz’s potions, from their school days onwards, are some of the finest quality in all the Boiling Isles and people come from all over to get their hands on them, something Luz is extremely proud of, she was the top student in potions all their years in school after all.

She has a small crowd, so Amity stands back, waiting because she knows the second Luz sees her she’ll insist on closing her shop for the day, and she doesn't want her to do that.

When the customers finally dissipate and Luz is left counting snails with Mochuelo standing on her shoulder, hooting quietly at her, does Amity finally approach.

“Look, I don’t judge them, if the guy needs seven bottles of rash potion, who am I to say no?” she tells her palisman, gesturing with a hand.

“That sounds like quite the rash,” Amity says as she stands to the side of the stand, making Luz jump.

“Amity, what are you doing here?” Luz’s face lights up like the sun peeking over the mountains until she gets a good look at her fiancée. She’s leaning heavily on her staff, and her eyes hold a hint of red that indicates she’d been crying and Luz’s smile drops, brows drawing between her eyes.

“I just... needed to see you.” Her voice is tight.

Mochuelo jumps off Luz’s shoulder as she sets her bag of snails under the counter and walks over, reaching up to cup her face and wipe the remnants of tears away with her thumbs. They are mostly dry but she can clearly see the track marks left behind on her cheeks and the puffiness around her eyes.

“What’s wrong, did something happen, amor?” she asks her gently.

Amity just lays her staff against the stand, Calliban slithering off it, and wraps herself around Luz, desperately seeking her comforting embrace, which the human would never deny and squeezes her back, rubbing her hand up and down Amity’s back. She’s learned over the years that Amity will tell her what’s wrong when she’s ready, so she waits.

She whistles at the two palisman, and the two flip-down her closed sign.

“Come on.” Luz lifts her with a frown and carries her back behind the stalls curtains where she keeps her stock, it’s dim and she carefully slides them to the ground, Amity in her lap.

Luz contents herself with running her hand through Amity’s long, soft, auburn hair until she sighs heavily against her and leans back so she can look at those concerned, deep, brown eyes.

“I’m sorry, I should have gone home instead of coming here and bothering you while you’re busy...”

“You’re never a bother to me, Amity,” Luz said, wiping at her face with the back of her fingers. The corner of the witch’s lips curled upward ever so slightly at that but quickly fell again as she spoke.

“I went to see my parents today,” she finally said and watched as Luz’s brows shot into her hairline.

“Why?” the tone isn’t angry or judging, just curious and concerned.

“I wanted to invite my father to the wedding… we might not have the best relationship, but I do love him. I’d like him to be there, and I…” she trailed off, biting her lip. Luz waited, squeezing her gently. “I guess I just hoped that maybe, just maybe, my mother had changed in the last three years, but I should have known better, she’s never going to change,” Amity sighed.

“I’m sorry, mi amor.” Luz frowned, resting her forehead against Amity’s. “I wish she wasn’t like this either.”

“It’s fine…”

“No it isn’t,” Luz cut her off. Amity always downplayed her feelings when it came to her mother, but Luz knew better. “It’s not fine, but, you know, it is okay for you, not to be fine, right?” she asked her quietly. Gold eyes stared back at her for a long moment.

“Right…,” Amity sighed, closing her eyes and leaning into Luz. “I wish I had a mom like yours…,” she sighed

“Which one?” Luz asked with a small grin and Amity couldn’t help but smirk at the question.

“Either,” she mumbled. “I should head back to the house and let you work.” she moved to pull away but Luz only held on tighter.

“It’s lunchtime, I wouldn’t be working right now anyway, so just stay a while, we can get lunch at Redstone…” Luz wheedled making Amity smile. She still felt so wounded, but Luz was always a balm on the pains in her heart.

“Okay.”

As they walked down the street Luz was already trying considering her next plan of action, and she thinks she needs to make another visit to her mother.

#Lumity #moonlit masquerade #Luz Noceda #Amity Blight #Eda Clawthorne #Lilith Clawthorne #Alador Blight #Odalia Blight #Edric Blight #Emira Blight #gay #fic #the owl house #TOH

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jkbabiey · 4 years

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{JJK} Say it ⤇ 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x student!reader

Word Count: ~2.88 K

Genre: actually... I don’t even know; some angst in the beginning, and then there’s that flirty smutty tension between the reader and kook; college!AU

Warnings: Jungkook seems to be a dick and Y/N can be kinda rude but it’s fine, she’s a sweetheart. There are some very soft mentions of sex and a very very annoying kook omg

YOU SHOULD PAY ATTENTION TO THE DATES IN THIS FANFIC

22nd of August, 2023

It was about 3 am when you heard the doorbell.

It was him.

Your irritation had nothing to do with sleepiness or with the late-night hour he chose to come by. You were awake, there’s no way you’d be able to sleep. You haven’t slept well since the night he let you go. Your irritation had to do with him; he wouldn’t be at your door if he wasn’t drunk or horny, and the fact that he didn’t understand this type of “meetings” wouldn’t be happening after that same night, pissed you off.

You were extremely pissed off.

Your anger was long gone as soon as you opened the door. He wasn’t drunk, and he sure as hell didn’t look horny, he was completely broken. His eyes were red and his face was puffy, he was a mess. If this had happened a month ago, you would have hugged him right away, trying to give him as much as a sense of comfort as you could and right now, you were trying to fight the urge to do exactly that. You had spent almost three weeks trying to convince yourself that he was a bad person and you weren't willing to give up all of your progress. Even though the look he was sending your way was yearning - almost begging - for some comfort coming from you.

His gaze was intense. He stared at you as if begging you to do something, he was lost, he had been for a long time now. He was begging you to let him in, and let him do whatever he wanted. He wanted you to do what you always did, he wanted to feel you. He wanted to feel as if he wasn’t as lost as he actually knew he was. You always made him feel like at least something in his life was worth it, and that something was you.

“Please let me in.” his voice was hoarse.

You didn’t budge. You just stood there, looking at him dead in the eye. What the fuck were you supposed to do in this situation? You were so hopeless about anything that had to do with him at this point you couldn’t even speak.

You didn’t say a word, but he understood just what was going through your mind. He knew how caught up in your thoughts you could get and how much of a rational person you were. But right now there was nothing minimally rational you could do. Nothing about your relationship was rational.

He stepped closer to you and closed the door behind him, not breaking the eye contact once. That has always been his way to get more intimate with you, to make you open up to him.

His hand made its way to your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. His heart softened when he noticed the way you leaned into his touch.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as his face got closer to yours, you could see the guilt in his eyes, even though your vision was already blurred up by the tears that managed to well up in your eyes.

His free hand rested on your shoulder, trying to push you towards him, but you stayed still, refusing to give in.

“Please Y/N… I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean anything I said that night, I just, I’ve never felt like this with anyone else before you, I have no idea what I’m supposed to do, or say, or how to deal with any of this- fuck” he paused, taking the hand that was previously resting on your shoulder to his face, rubbing it harshly. “ and I am sorry…” he finally finished.

Your tears were already running free, and your face was probably a mess, but you didn’t care.

“Say it,” You said sternly even though your voice was already wavering. He knew what you were referring to, of course he did. He was a very intelligent guy, even though he usually pretended no to be.

“I’m telling you what to do now, Jungkook, just say it,” you whispered, closing your eyes for a moment.

He looked at you, pain evident on his face, he didn’t want to say it. Not because he didn’t feel the same way you did, but because he wasn’t brave enough to admit that he feels, that he can feel something as dangerous as love.

He opened his mouth several times, just to close it again. He couldn’t say it, he was so afraid.

Yeah… Jungkook was afraid.

He was known by everyone around the city for being fearless. Because that was what he wanted people to think. He smokes, his body is embellished with tattoos, and he has fucked almost every girl in the town, forgetting their names the day after.

... But Jungkook was all talk.

He liked to be known, desired and even feared by some, but now, here he was, begging you to let him in.

Neither of you knew what to do. You were both scared. But then you understood he wasn’t able to cross that line, and ignoring all the urges to kiss him right there, take all of his worries and insecurities off his chest and the doubtful look off his eyes, you decided to put an end to that.

“Get out.”

11th of February, 2023

You were completely covered in work, sitting on your living room’s floor. Anatomy books all around you. This had already became a very typical Saturday night for you. Your house was a complete mess, you didn’t even manage to find time to eat, how would you have time to clean your small apartment?

Med school wasn’t easy, it was far from easy. There was so much effort you had to put into it. You barely had a social life. Actually, all you had was your sister, your best friend, and a few friends from med school. You weren't particularly the social butterfly, and you couldn't really blame med school for that, you never liked to have many people around you. If you want to be a doctor, you have to forget having a life apart from the hospital, your full attention has to be directed to studying so you can save lives in the future.

The thing is, you’ve wanted to be a doctor since you were 14 years old. You worked your ass off so that you could have the perfect grades, and get into med school without any problem. You knew it was going to be hard from the beginning, but you were a girl that like challenges, you loved being challenged; your competitive nature implied it. You have always liked to get things the hard way. Easy was boring.

You’ve always set your goals very high. You were an overachiever. And you were stubborn, you would never give up on your dreams. These were great characteristics for an aspiring doctor. You were sure you were on the right path.

Your studies were interrupted when Maggie, your sister, barged into your house. She had a spare key, you gave it to her when you moved into this apartment. She has always been your confidant, you told her every single thing that happened in your life. She knew everything there was to know about you, and you knew everything about her. Your relationship has always been awesome, you’ve always treated each other as best friends and not really as sisters.

You had told her how stressed you were about med school the night prior, and you could hear in her voice how worried she got about your mental health, even though, the situation wasn’t that bad, she tended to exaggerate. So it wasn’t really surprising that she was in your apartment, all excited, telling you, you were going to a party tonight because you needed to get loose.

And even though you could see how happy and full of good intentions she was, you almost laughed at her face, well... actually, you really did laugh, a lot. It was just a really funny and almost ridiculous idea. It was really stupid of her to even think you would waste a night of study, for a party. You didn't even like parties!

You hated parties, actually!

You've always been kind of an introvert. You liked to have your own space, you loved to be alone, you loved to read, and you didn't like having other people invading your personal space.

"What are you even saying?" you asked, still laughing.

Your sister's expression fell the moment you said that, almost mocking her.

"We are going out, I already talked to Vicky, she's coming with us. Get ready, you have one hour, we are leaving at 9pm and we still have to pick Vicky up"

Vicky was your best friend, you were so surprised Maggie got her to leave her house. Vicky was also an introvert, she was even worse than you.

"Hurry up!" she screamed, already impatient.

You were left staring at her, completely dumbfounded, before she grabbed your arm and pushed you into the bathroom.

You were already in Maggie's car. The tight black dress you were wearing was utterly and completely uncomfortable. The three of you were already on your way to the party, you couldn't be more panicked. You haven't come to a party since you were 15, you didn't even know how to act in a party, what were you supposed to do? You looked at Vicky, in the backseat, she was just as nervous as you were, you couldn't find her situation more relatable. Your eyes crossed and you both knew what each of you was feeling at that exact moment.

It had always been like this. You've always understood and known each other like the back of your hands. Your mothers were best friends, and when she was born, you were only one year old. You grew together and got used to each others' presence. Now you were almost inseparable.

When you got to the party, the smell of smoke and the loud suggestive music invaded your senses. You weren't used to this kind of environment, and you didn't like it, not one bit.

In the middle of the party, Maggie was already on the dance floor, and she had already denied dancing with at least 5 different guys. Everyone was just so drawn to her, you couldn't blame them. Maggie was absolutely stunning, she had always been the pretty girl of the family. Vicky was seated beside you at the bar when Maggie came and basically pulled her to dance. She tried to do the same with you, but she gave up as soon as you sent her your most intimidating gaze.

"Sorry, can I get a cosmopolitan, please?" you asked the bartender. If your friends dragged you here, you should, at least, drink something, right?

The bartender gave you your drink a bit after matched with an apologetic look, probably used to seeing other people in the same situation you were.

Sipping your drink you looked up to see all kind of people dancing and laughing at each other. This couldn't really be considered dancing, all everybody attempted to do was grinding on each other, exchanging partner if their rhythms of grinding weren’t similar. Disgusting. Purely disgusting.

Your discomfort only increased when your eyes locked with another pair of brown orbs, that were already fixed on yours. His gaze was intense, so intense that he got you shifting in your seat and adjusting your dress, so it would cover your legs properly - if that was even possible. He must have noticed your agitation because you swear to god, you saw him smirking. You tried looking somewhere else, but his gaze was fixed on you, and at some point, you forgot the nervousness you had felt some seconds before, giving up on keeping your eyes away and looking straight at him. All your confidence was long gone when he decided to stand up and started walking towards you, never breaking the eye contact.

You haven't really noticed how attractive that stranger was but now that his face was lightened up by the red neon lights of the pub you were in, you could see it perfectly. His face was flawless - his dark hair was pulled back as if he had just run his fingers through it, his gaze was sharp and intense, you could see he felt challenged, looking straight at your eyes, his lips were slightly parted, and apparently moisturized and you could clearly see how chiselled his jawline was.

For your contentment, he looked away first, but kept his eyes on you, analyzing your body now. He was wearing a simple white t-shirt, but the muscles beneath it were definitely noticeable. His arms were also muscular and he had some tattoos covering them. The tight jeans he was wearing left you almost drooling at how muscular and defined his tights seemed to be. His steps were languid and slow. The tension between you two was palpable, and while you were focused on his eyes and the desire that they exuded, everyone else was gone, it was just the two of you.

What a fucking prick...

"Hey princess," he said when he got to your side, sitting in one of the fancy stools that stood by the bar after pulling it closer to yours.

If he thinks that with that little fuckboy talk he's going to take you to bed, he's wrong. So wrong...

"You should get back to your friends." he was taken aback by your words, it was obvious by the way he looked at you, but the surprised look didn't last long, quickly being replaced by that stupidly desirable smirk he'd been wearing since his eyes laid on your figure and a soft tilt os his head.

"You were so excited looking at me across the room... Acting all confident. Now that I'm finally here, you send me away... Am I making you nervous, baby?"

"God, you're so full of yourself... Is that your tactic to get girls to go home with you?" you looked at him, clearly annoyed.

It was clear he wasn't liking how rude you were sounding, but you couldn't care less.

He laughed a bit, low and hoarsely, amused by how feisty you were, getting even closer to you, after poking the inside of his cheek.

"You think I want to take you home?" he looked at your eyes defyingly, clearly mocking you. His face was so close to yours that you could see the rage he was feeling and hiding, almost flawlessly, through his eyes. "I wouldn't want to take you home." he stared, waiting for you to snap. God, he was so rude.

"Fuck off," you said with a neutral voice, daring to send him a little ironic smile.

"I'm not sayin' I'm not up to fuck you, but not necessarily in my house" he chuckled in a low tone and looked at you with the same challenging look he was wearing earlier. He was severely testing your patience, but you were determined to not give him the satisfaction of seeing you lose your cool.

You looked at him. The disgust you were feeling was evident, he noticed it.

"When are you going to shut the fuck up?" you asked, almost losing your patience, which you'd been preserving for a long time now.

You stood up, ready to leave him there.

He was ready to say something else but noticing you had already left he was left staring at your uncovered back and your hips that were adorned by your tight little black dress.

You knew you were one hell of a woman. You've always had your insecurities just like everyone else, but you knew how beautiful you were on top of all those imperfections.

You looked back and smirked when you saw him staring at your ass, biting his bottom lip.

You sat in a velvety sofa in the bar, still holding your drink, but the thought of those lips and shiny eyes was still haunting you, and the fact that he was still persistently staring your way wasn't helping. You felt your body relax a bit when he finally stood up and stepped towards the dance floor.

A while later, Maggie and Vicky were walking towards the couch you were sitting on and threw themselves on it, completely wasted.

"Hey, I gave your number to a really hot guy. I think you're getting laid in the next week!" Vicky screamed at the top of her lungs excitedly and you wondered who she could be talking about, running your eyes through the unfamiliar faces that filled the bar.

“Finally!” Maggie added to Vicky’s exaggerated statement.

Your heart stopped the moment your eyes locked with the ones you've been dreadfully thinking about for the last hour. He was smirking as if he had heard your friends - which he probably did.

He studied your expression falling as realization fell on you. He had won. And when you found yourself lost in his eyes from across the room, imagining what he could do to you, you were pretty sure you had lost.

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unforth · 4 years

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@castielscarma I've done this meme for Destiel, though it was a million years ago, so how about Rand and Aviendha?

who’s the werewolf and who’s the hunter: oh Aviendha is so the werewolf and Rand is the hunter, except that Rand has no idea that werewolves exist and he's wandered into her territory and she assumes he's there to kill her so of course she's gonna strike first. She lays a whole ambush and catches him unawares, and he raises a blade to defend himself then realizes...he's being attacked by a woman...and hardly even defends himself. This infuriates her because she's been stalking him long enough to know he's a badass so what the fuck is he doing? She's too enraged to stop fighting long enough to ask...and he's nearly dead when she finally snarls out "what are you DOING" and he just manages a weak smile and a "light, you're so beautiful" before he passes out and it occurs to her she's made one heck of a mistake...and decides to nurse him back to health entirely so she can ask him to explain himself, and THEN kill him. (That's definitely the only reason she's helping him what other reason could she possibly have? Don't even suggest she thinks he's handsome she will rip your head off...)

who’s the mermaid and who’s the fisherman: Rand is the merman and Aviendha is the fisherwoman. She's so beautiful, and her legs are so long, that Rand lingers beneath the waves to watch her every day but it's not until her boat is capsized that he learns that she doesn't actually know how to swim, and he's forced to choose between rescuing her and revealing himself, or letting her drown. It's not until after he's saved her and she's seen him that the truth starts to come out - he is of her people, and wasn't born a merman, and no one can say how he ended up beneath the sea...but maybe together they can figure it out.

who’s the witch and who’s the familiar: hmm...that's a super hard choice lol...I'm gonna go with witch Aviendha and familiar Rand, though both have a ton of potential. After her training with the Wise Ones, she is sent on a quest to find her familiar, only to spend years visiting every hold in the Wasteland and finding nothing. It's with utmost disgust that she finally gives up and ventures out into the wetlands to find her familiar...she hates to do it but she can never earn her birthright if she's not bonded to a familiar...and then she finds Rand, a stag familiar, and it's hate at first sight...except she's POSITIVE he's the one, and fuck her life, and how is she going to convince him to return to the Wasteland with her??

who’s the barista and who’s the coffee addict: Rand is the barista working his way through college and Aviendha is the massively overachieving sports medicine major who runs on coffee and rage and is convinced Rand is an idiot cause he can hardly get out a sentence without tripping over his tongue when she's around. Fortunately, she's thinks he's hot, and breaks the ice by inviting him to fuck. Unfortunately, he actually really likes her and has no idea how to transition from being "strangers with benefits" to actually...being in a relationship. (He never does figure it out. Min intervenes and saves him from his own stupidity. She's aro and occasionally joins them as a third and realizes they're both idiots who've caught feels...)

who’s the professor and who’s the TA: they're both professors, Aviendha of women's studies, Rand of military history, and they never get along and are constantly arguing during faculty meetings except it's entirely based on their stereotypes of each other ("she must be a feminazi!" "he must be an actual nazi!") And meanwhile the rest of the staff are like...actually she's really brilliant? Actually he's really nice? Why can't they get along? (The answer is UST, and the conviction that the other hates them and they're both too stubborn to be the first to relent...until they end up having drunken hate sex after a holiday party...and are inseparable forever after.)

who’s the knight and who’s the prince(ss): Aviendha is the knight and Rand is the prince. He's so soft, so coddled, she hates him...until she realizes semi-accidentally that the entire kingdom virtually is planning to kill him and he's alive solely because of his wits and ability to navigate social milieus. She discovers this after saving his life...and then nearly getting executed for her trouble...and getting saved by his ability to play the games nobles favor. Post rescue she expects him to be a dick and demand things of her but instead he just offers her a sad smile and says, "thanks for helping me...we're even now...stay away from now on if you value your life" and she realizes she is utterly screwed because there's no way he can leave him to his fate...

who’s the teacher and who’s the single parent: Rand is the single parent after a messy divorce from Elayne Trakand, legendary socialite (they're actually on okay terms, the messy part was because of the tabloids and her family). Aviendha is the kids' martial arts instructor, and she's always had a thing for Rand - he's gorgeous and nice and great with his kids, what's not to like? - but she's always coped by compartmentalizing and now that he's actually available she has absolutely no idea what to do and proceeds to screw up in increasingly spectacular ways until he finally, sheepishly (possibly terrified-ly) asks her out. They're married four months later.

who’s the writer and who’s the editor: Rand is the author and Aviendha is the editor. He's in a bind: he writes sensitive, intellectual chicklit, often with PoC and/or queer characters, under a female pseudonym and he's so afraid of getting found out (cause male authors are no go in that genre) that he enters a contest with the publishing house and basically creates an entire alter ego female persona? And they actually pick his book? And now he's completely screwed even as he finally succeeds? And it's even worse because his editor seems to genuinely like him and he's absolutely positive that she'll loathe him if she finally finds out the truth...still, manuscript by manuscript, collaboration after collaboration, he falls for her and is pretty sure she's falling too and that makes it so much worse to keep the secret...of course eventually the truth comes out and he's right at first, she literally stabs him with her letter opener...and then he's very very wrong and it's better than he ever dared hope.

(Send me an ask with a ship and I'll answer the above questions!)

#unforth writes #meme #wheel of time #rand/aviendha

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theteej · 4 years

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“You need to take serious time for yourself, do self-care, or something,” my best friend Mark said to me, uncomfortably earnestly.

“I’m serious. You haven’t been letting anything in, and you just have to sit and stop running. Go process, or feel, or just let it sink in that you did things and you surprisingly don’t suck.”

Fuck, he’s right.

And so that’s what I’m doing. Last week I booked an Airbnb in La Jolla, a tony coastal enclave of San Diego near where I went to undergrad. I pretended I was on vacation, but in a pandemic. I booked a small studio near the water, and planned to spend these next few days reading, reflecting, walking along the ocean, and staying otherwise indoors and trying to wrestle with this whole semester. I pulled up to the studio last night, unpacked my bags, and cried. Like cried a lot. I felt lonely and scared, but also so numb. I felt a sea of blankness all around me, and a sense of trepidation.

Honestly, I don’t know what to do about all of my stupid feelings.

Where to start?

I feel like I’ve been anxious nearly my whole life. It’s absolutely something that developed as a kid with a violent, drunken father. You learn to live in between heartbeats like that, always testing what’s about to happen, trying to think of the next thing to plan in order to stay safe. Sure, your brain says tauntingly. Things are OK right now, but what if they’re not in a few minutes? Or even worse: Things ARE terrible—what are you going to do if they stay that way forever? These are the gifts Tyrone Tallie Sr left me, along with an unoriginal legal name and a stubborn widows peak visible whenever I grow my hair out for a few weeks.

Couple that with a natural tendency to think quickly, and you have the birth of a personality that masked my calculating self-security by turning those constant permutations into clever moments for interaction or comment. Like many people, my wit is born of trauma; the ability to process things in quick time is born out of needing to feel safe, and frequently gets deployed to put others at ease. That’s one of the weirder contradictory things about being me. I am simultaneously witty and clever and in control, and I am also always quietly freaking out, or at the very least, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Which is why this has been….a damn semester. Teaching two classes fully remotely with panicked, overwhelmed students in the shadow of an ever-worsening pandemic that stretches on and on without end and feeling daily gaslighted by the endless selfishness of your fellow citizens—what a gift for the anxious. Ironically, anxiety helped to a certain extent because I didn’t have the shock of falling into a new world of uncertainty or fear that so many non-anxious folk did this year. But that’s hardly a gift, is it? Congratulations! You’re already living as if a bomb can go off at any moment, so you’re not struggling to adjust to the new horror show of life!

Teaching this semester has been…just without any context. I’ve taught online, but not in this same planned way and with everyone panicking, and the looming threat of pandemic and election. And yet we did it. We pulled ourselves together, and my students were honest about their needs and their breakdowns and I tried to model humility and grace and confusion and rage as well as they did. We didn’t fuck it up. Or, we all fucked up, and it was okay. We learned things. Students surprised me, and it was glorious. I got to be broken and I didn’t die.

It was an intense semester of overworking as well. I was on a bunch of committees, formal and informal, and we managed to get a new minor—African Studies—passed. I’ll be heading a new program on campus next year, and that’s exciting and terrifying. And on top of all of that, I couldn’t stop volunteering for stuff, or talking about things I cared about. In addition to teaching, I gave fourteen different presentations or talks this semester, an increase in expectations or agreements on my part thanks to the ubiquity of zoom. It grinds on you: the whole, get up, trudge to the back room, power up a personality for the zoom camera, and pour yourself digitally into a screen, only to feel yourself broken into little packets of light and data and scattered across the universe.

The talks went well. The student evaluations went well. Honestly, both were fucking great. And I haven’t let myself feel a goddamn thing. I let it slide off me like rain on a waxed deck, the droplets beading on the slick wood before slipping away into the darkness. I cant let it sink in, because then something good might be happening, and the very skills that have made me capable—the whip-fast reflexes, the self-deprecating humour, the rapid analysis—are also tied to the very deep-seeded anxiety. Everything has to be calculated and understood and prepared for, because at some moment a dark curtain is going to fall over the face of a man with my same name. He will smack me so hard I will go flying out of a chair and hit the wall with a soft, sickly whump, a particularly unpleasant of me at seven that I carry sewn into every cell of my skin and fiber of my being.

I can’t stop and let it sink in because I have internalized the worst calculus of overachiever life—push harder, don’t stop for the good, that’s normal. Stop only for the bad to learn from it, take in its horror, and let it never happen to you again. And so I found myself at the end of the semester holding a bag of relative joy like a party favour, looking around anxiously for bullies to come snatch it out of my hands.

And then Jeopardy fucking happened.

I got to be on television. I got to talk to Alex Trebek, the same man who held my grandmother’s hand on Classic Concentration and saw that her for the beautiful, formidable queen that she was. I got to turn silly trivia knowledge into cash—and I got to do it while being me. And to my confusion—people liked me. It went well, they felt I resonated with something inside of them, and they liked it.

I do not, in my own skill set, have the tools to deal with that. I am supposed to be clever and fast, and witty, and engaging and lovable—but I do not know how to actually think of receiving goodness. I know how to process being witty and clever and delightful—I did what I was supposed to do, good job, next—but I don’t know how to actually take that positivity in.

I keep waiting for all of this to fall apart, for everyone to hate me in the reassuring ways that I distrust or marginalize or disbelieve myself. And yet, I know that’s not helpful. Hence, overachiever’s therapy: forcing oneself to prematurely trade on prize money and spend a three day love/relaxation retreat, less than fifteen miles from my own apartment.

I woke up and cried a little. I then tried to mediate or at least focus on the positives of late. Nope. Nothing came. I decided it was time for coffee. I drank some that I made in the Airbnb, but realized I needed to get outside for a walk. I changed into a bright yellow caftan and an extra-dramatic face mask, and went for a walk on the streets of La Jolla, the bougie and strange bubble by the sea.

La Jolla can double in weird ways like other parts of the world I frequent. It feels sometimes like I’m in Durban (if you’re more partial to Umhlanga Rocks or Durban North) or Wellington (if you love Mount Vic or Oriental Bay), or even Vancouver (if you feel like West Point Grey or the haughtiest parts of Kitsilano are your thing). It’s a rich place, one that I don’t belong in, but one that I can feign a few hours of enjoyment and sun.

Today I walked down palm tree lined streets in the perfect weather, the breeze pushing through my still-short hair with a strange urgency. I picked up a cold brew coffee and a freshly caught and grilled halibut sandwich that my therapist recommended (we decided to briefly be pescatarian for a day and chalked it up to the ‘medical advice.’), then I turned toward the coast. I sat for a long time looking at the waves—unsurprisingly—with a bit of anxiety.

What if I relaxed WRONG? What if I couldn’t let myself feel joy? What if I just wasted the day by…eating this sandwich and not fully appreciating the beautiful ocean waves, golden sun, or nature all around me. After a while I realized that sounded ridiculous, and just forced myself to sit.

And as the old Zulu language dance song “Unamanga” by the late Patricia Majalisa started to filter to my headphones, as I stared out at the sea and the sun, something shifted. I felt something like, I don’t know, a failure in the sealnt around myself, and some drops dripped in, slowly. Maybe, just maybe, I didn’t have to do this in a grand gesture. I could enjoy myself and the small joys I’d found in life so far.

I could be grateful and quietly glad for the little things that happened. It wasn’t about deserving it, or about it being worthy of me. I could imagine for right now, that this was a thing that I could have. I could sit and marvel that some great shit happened to me, and it was OK. Let’s not get it twisted—I didn’t have an epiphany, there were no turnbacks on the road to Emmaus. But I did find a little quietude in my soul for a second and stopped frantically Teflon-ing my heart from joy for a second.

I survived a hell semester, and did well. I got a wonderful opportunity and it went well. I could just let hat happen and also not ignore that it happened, to focus on negatives in an outsized way. I could, in this single afternoon moment, be delighted that things had gone okay. And not worry or strategize about the next disaster, which would happen on its own anyway. And…that’s all I can do right now.

Also, I’m going to work on this more, this whole letting people love me and letting it sink in. I usually avoid it because I feel like it keeps me off my game from the inevitable disaster to follow. But that’s not how I want to live. I’m going to try to think about what it means that some of you all tell me you love me, and then to show it. I need to reconcile the nonstop whirligig of my mind also turns menacingly in on itself so often, and that acknowledging the gift of calculated wit and mirth also means I have to cultivate love and joy.

So tomorrow, I’m going to go for a brief run, I’m going to drink some lovely coffee, and I’m going to walk along the ocean again. (And then I’m going to keep staying in this Airbnb so I don’t catch or spread this plague.)

What a fucking semester, y’all.

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dibidibifiction · 4 years

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Criminal In My Mind: Chapter 1

Warning: foul language

Pairing: Choi Minho x Reader

Word count: 2k

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction made for personal entertainment of readers. The writer does not ever intend to offend her readers nor does she aim to spread false information about anyone as to pay any disrespect to the real-life persons whom the characters are based on. She also does not claim ownership to any of the images that are being used.

masterlist

Y/N

“What... What’s happening?”

Different voices sound faint in the background. I try to adjust as my sight is still cloudy. I have no idea where I am. I start to fail catching my breath as soon as I realize that I can’t feel my arms when I attempt to feel my head where there’s excruciating pain other than the rest of my body aches all over.

Although everything is dark and blurry, I noticed that I’m sitting down with my knees bent to my face, a cloth smelling of gasoline fumes covers my nose and mouth. I’m in a cramped space that I can hardly move in, some kind of a big container. I look up and I see a small hole with light shining through.

What is going on? I can hear myself breathing rapidly.

Two men appear from above me and grab me forcefully on both of my arms to stand me up as I feel another severe pain. This time it’s somewhere on my hip.

Shit, it hurts! It hurts, it hurts. It fucking hurts!

Still catching up with my breath, my sight is fading black again while I hear drilling and hammering but I can’t tell where it’s coming from. I feel myself being dragged as burns forming on my heels. I start to panic—trying to jerk every part of my body, trying to break free. I’d shout for help but my lips down to my throat are too dry as if frozen.

I must have passed out for a minute because the next thing I know is complete silence and complete darkness. Suddenly, in front of me appears another man with blood all over his hands and a sledgehammer in one. “Stay still,” he says.

I try to scream again and finally, my voice rips out the loudest that I can, “Help!”

“Shh, relax, this is just a-”

“Dream!”

I jolt up. My pores drip with cold sweat and my heart throbs as if to break free from my ribs.

“It was just a dream,” I think out loud.

It’s been over a year since I last dreamt something about what happened when I was thirteen. I don’t even remember what exactly happened anymore. I just remember exactly how it felt, how terrifying it was. How I thought I was going to die. I’m not even sure how I survived, especially my surgeon. I received quite a beating from that event, such as severe bruises and deep cuts all over my body, internal bleeding along my insides. Two rib bones were so complicatedly twisted on my lower right flank that I needed surgery just for the doctors to fix them, which left a big scar down my side. I don’t know what’s worse: remembering how everything happened or remembering how it all felt. The memory of it all, although unclear...

I get freighted by the vibration of my phone against my nightstand. Jinki is calling.

“Lee Jinki, isn’t it too early for a flirtatious phone call? I’m not in the mood.”

“Oh, hey! I didn’t expect you to pick up right away. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just a bad dream. Gonna take a shower. I’m late for-”

“Wait! Stop by for breakfast. It’s on me.”

I roll my eyes and hang up. Jinki and I dated shortly after college for like a week or two so nothing was serious. We’re good friends now but he’s still claiming that there is still some kind of remaining spark between us. It’s getting old so I just always assume he’s joking every time he tells me that.

I decided not to wash my hair and just let it loose since I really am going to be late for work and I hate to bother going out with wet hair. I get dressed, I go for a pastel pink long-sleeved shirt tucked into a pair of high-waisted light blue jeans and my ivory cream high-top Chucks. I don’t bother for any makeup, which rarely happens, and rush out the front door then lock it behind me.

I hop on a cab taking it that there won’t be a bus stopping any second now.

I arrive at Jinki’s café, which is just on the next parallel street of the flower shop and just two neighborhoods away from home, “Hi, I’m here,” I call out even before I spot him.

“Good morning, Y/n!” Jinki greets cheerfully with his usual bright smile. “Wait, I think there’s something different,” he gestures both of his hands on my face.

“Oh, maybe it’s because I haven’t put any makeup-”

“You’re extra beautiful today,” his smile widens, and eyes almost disappear.

“-on,” I grit my teeth at him. “You shut up, Jinki! I’ll see you later,” I walk out the glass doors and nod at the barista as thanks for opening them for me.

I flash all the way to the flower shop that my sock slips off from my heel when I walk in, to already witness an early customer.

“There she is! My favorite employee. Y/n, sweetie, please come and talk to this fine lady right here. She has a lot of questions that are far beyond my energy to handle.”

“Sorry, I’m late, Mr. Lee. And everybody knows I’m your only employee who isn’t your son,” I joke back as Taemin pops in yawning, still in his morning glory.

“And everybody also knows that my son sucks at his job,” Mr. Lee shouts and smacks the back of his son’s head then points to another customer that has just walked in, ordering him to go and entertain.

As I mind my own customer, I catch a small glimpse of the guy Taemin’s talking to, who looks unimpressed. He has dark hair in a layered bowl style with his fringe covering more than half his forehead and would’ve definitely looked cuter if he smiled. They seem to already know each other. Weird thing is I feel like I’ve met him before. Was he in one of my classes in college? Does he go to the same gym class I do?

“For the petunia bouquet, can you add something else so it won’t look so plain?” the nice lady inquires further.

“Absolutely. Maybe I’ll add some purple azaleas or lilies, or maybe both if you’d like. What do you think?”

“Great! I’ll just entrust this on you, dear, okay?”

“No problem,” I assure her, not breaking a smile while I work the cash register for her down payment, I take one more quick look at the guy, who may now think I’m creepy so I’ll stop now. I hand over the receipt to the lady in front of me.

“Thanks! I’ll come back Friday to pick them up,” she announces.

“Thank you for coming in! I’ll make sure to ready your bouquets by then. Have a nice day!” I say, still smiling, opening the door for her to walk out.

As soon as I approach the guys, the other customer, probably coincidentally, is just walking out of the shop. I don’t know about everybody else who’s met him but he seems hostile to me.

And really really familiar. I can’t point my finger at it. “You know him?” I ask Taemin beside me.

“Yeah, we’re in a photography class together,” he tells me. “I tend to talk to him at school but he’s kind of scary.”

“Seems likely.”

“But I like him. I think he’s better once I get to know him.”

I laugh. “Anyway, what time do your classes start this afternoon?”

“2 o’clock.”

“Great. Can you deliver those bouquets due today for me? Please and thank you!” I sweetly ask him, pointing at a big box across the counter.

“Sure thing, Noona. Tell Dad I’ll be home late tonight,” he informs me while grabbing his backpack and the box of deliveries.

“Hot date?” I tease him.

“We’re just friends,” he said with a jokingly evil grin and a wink.

“Hey, Lee Taemin, don’t do anything stupid!”

Just like that, he’s out the door before I even finish my sentence.

Lunchtime is finally here. I’ve been arranging flowers all morning and handling customers whenever somebody comes in. Although I could never complain about my job since this is what I’ve ever wanted growing up.

I was born and raised in a different city where my parents live to this day about a two-hour drive away from here, or three hours if you took the bus since it has a lot of stops and depending on traffic. I moved to this city in my first year of college.

My mom and dad had been tight with me growing up, especially with academics, since they both have families that got master’s degrees and PhDs. At first, I didn’t mind studying hard and graduating with honors because I didn’t really know what I wanted to be in the future at the time. However, the more I aged, the more I realized that I hated studying. I’m not smart enough like my parents and my cousins and they had no idea how hard I must have worked in order for me to please them. I hated the attention whenever I received a first-place certificate or won local quiz bees and academic decathlons because, you know what, none of the trophies and medals I earned made me happy.

When I was kidnapped and held captive in some kind of box for days, all I thought about was flowers. I was missing my mom’s garden at home, and how it smelled in the morning before I went to school. I figured that flowers were all that I drew with crayons in kindergarten. It was the highlight of my days. At the time, in that container, I had foreboded that I was going to die.

Since the universe provided me a second chance to live, that’s when my life began. I did not want to be an academic overachiever, I wanted to have fun. Since then, my parents always scolded me for getting a B or a C, but I didn’t care. At least I never neglected my studies.

The day came when I had to move out to go to college and I couldn’t be more excited. Still without neglecting my academics, I started partying almost every weekend and dated whoever I wanted. Although, I honestly have never been in love before.

The rest is history, I found Mr. Lee’s flower shop. I applied for a job here three years ago, before I graduated.

“Did somebody order lunch?” Jinki walks into the shop. “How’s my love doing?”

“Fine, thank you for asking. And shut up,” I say. “You didn’t have to do this. You already gave me breakfast.”

“Oh, no, I don’t want my girl to starve,” he winks at me.”

“Hey, Lee Jinki! Give me a break, won’t you? I’m not yours.”

“Come on, I’m kidding. It already sank into me that you’re never gonna be mine. Plus, I actually met somebody.”

“No shit, really? Who?” I ask, surprised.

“I’m not gonna tell you now. We just started seeing each other and we’re not exclusive yet. I don’t even know if she likes me.”

“Well, I’m glad to see you moving on. Let me meet her when you’re ready.” I say to him as I pinch his cheek.

“Here we go,” he says after laying out all the food on the counter.

“Looks good, thank you,” I’m always thankful for Jinki. Even though we didn’t work out as romantic partners, I’m glad we’re friends. “Oh, by the way, Kibum is coming into town this Friday.”

“Oh, great. I only got to meet him once before but I think he’s really funny. How long ago was it when he last visited?” he asks while his mouth is full with rice.

“I think it was over a month ago when he told me the news about his engagement.”

“Looks like we have a fun weekend ahead. Although I might not join you the next day since I’m going home to my mom’s.”

“Great! Say hi to her for me.”

Chapter 2

#ktm cimm c1 #ktm cimm #shinee fanfic #shinee fanfiction #shinee fanfics #minho x reader #shinee fluff #shinee smut

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orionsdxg · 4 years

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before christmas holidays, gryffindor boys’ dormitory, hogwarts, 2007

He was supposed to be packing for the holiday, everyone else had already started and the overachievers had already finished. Trunks that usually sat open or with things haphazardly dumped on top of them were now neatly packed and lined by the door, indicating to the house elves they were ready to be taken to the train in the morning. Downstairs in the common room, he could hear the buzz of students spending their final night of the year with one another before they would all board the train with their trunks to go home for the holiday. Sirius was lying on his made bed, staring up at the canopy wondering how long he could stall before he would either end up going home without a trunk or missing the train.

He could go home without a trunk, technically. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have enough clothes still at the family house to get through the holiday. But then he would end up wearing the clothes his mother approved of since those were the ones he left there. He wouldn’t have the ones he’d managed to cajole his way into or the ones he’d accumulated through sharing clothes with James throughout the first half of the year. One of the only things that was keeping him from spiraling into a complete temper tantrum was the idea of coming down to Christmas dinner in faded jeans and a Weezer t-shirt.

No, he had to bring the trunk. He refused to give his mother the satisfaction.

Last year, there had at least been the silver lining of seeing Regulus. His first year at Hogwarts had been the hardest because Regulus had been back home and so he had been able to avoid the dread and the hysterics by spending as much time as he could holed up in Reg’s room and out of his mother’s line of fire. This year, though, Reg was at school too and they hadn’t lacked for time together. Even being in different houses, it was better than not being at school together at all. But it meant that the only good thing about going back to Grimmauld Place for Christmas was gone.

Hence the staring and the wallowing and the procrastinating.

“Are you coming down anytime soo — have you even started packing?”

Sirius didn’t move as he heard her voice, he wasn’t surprised to hear this particular female voice in the boys’ dormitory. Lily was clever and had long since figured a work around to get up the stairs to the boys’ tower. Her displeasure at being separated from ‘her boys’ had been no match for a centuries old spell.

“I’ve actually unpacked everything that I hadn’t ever gotten around to unpacking in September.” He scooted over on his bed a bit so that she had room to climb up with him but it was the only move he made to acknowledge her presence or invite her to say. He didn’t need to do more.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

She didn’t answer because she knew he he was full of it. He knew that she knew. She knew that he knew that she knew. He was just being stubborn as he insisted on continuing to stare at the canopy in silence. It had to be a solid five minutes before he finally spoke again, Lily had waited him out and even though he didn’t want to admit anything, he wanted to talk about everything. It was part of the contradiction that was Sirius Black.

“I don’t want to go back there. Not even for the holiday. Every time is worse than the last. This summer was a bloody nightmare and I spent half of it with Jim.” He let his head fall to the side, finally, looking at Lily. “Do you know I’ve never had a Christmas where we weren’t shouting at dinner?” He looked back up again. He knew it was as much his fault as his mother’s, he picked fights even when he wanted to have peace and quiet. He would go into a meal determined to be civil because it was a holiday and he didn’t want Regulus to only ever remember him and Walburga fighting. But then she would open her mouth and say something so awful or cruel or cutting and he couldn’t help himself.

“Is it bad that I’d rather stay here and spend Christmas with the house elves than go home?”

Sirius didn’t know what he expected the answer to be. Part of him thought she would say yes because that’s what his answer was. Of course it was bad. Who didn’t want to go home for Christmas, even if they did fight with their mum and live in an old drafty ugly house? Who would rather be alone than with their brother just because of a little fighting that he should be used to by now? Part of him hoped that she would say no, that she would make him feel a little less stupid about it all. He didn’t expect what she actually said.

"Why would you want to stay with the house elves when you can hang out with me?"

He snorted, finally grinning a little bit.

“What, you planning on skipping the epic Evans Christmas to mope around the castle with me?”

He assumed she was joking, they all usually were. It was the best way to cheer up a glum Marauder, tell a joke or poke some fun. And it had worked, he was grinning.

“No, I’m inviting you home for Christmas. Epic Evans celebration and all.”

He moved, finally, propping himself up on his elbows and looking down at her.

“You can’t just invite me home. The night before the train leaves. Won’t your parents be pissed off you brought home a stray?”

Walburga would mount his head next to the house elves’ on the wall if he had brought home someone she didn’t know without any kind of notice. She didn’t even like when he had invited his cousins over as a boy without asking her permission first.

“They’ll only be angry if you make us miss the train and they have to come and get us themselves so get your butt out of bed and pack your trunk.”

Her smile was wide and genuine and his half hearted grin grew to match hers. He didn’t need to be told twice.

@thefoxevans

#luxrpchristmas #ᴀʀʀᴏɢᴀɴᴛ ʟᴏᴜᴅᴍᴏᴜᴛʜ ʙᴏᴛʜᴇʀ | sirius #ʟᴏsᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪʟᴅ; ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴜɪʟᴛ ᴀ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴍᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴀᴅ | lily #ᴀ sᴛᴏʀʏ ɪɴ sᴄᴀʀs ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛs | drabbles

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shadowed-dancer · 5 years

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Queens of the Old Book (my versions)

Alright, I've been meaning to do this for a while and finally got around to it. I’ve designed my versions of the 26 queens who came before Skywynne! It’s a really long post, but I included pictures, poems, brief physical descriptions, and some backstory for each! I’m gonna draw my favourites again soon. Hope you enjoy.

Mo the First

The very first Queen of Mewni, A destiny foretold By the little man from beyond time, A wonder to behold

Hair: Light brown Eyes: Greek Cheekmark colour: Pink Aureole sign: Warnicorn

Mo was the first Queen and did a lot of things to set up a kingdom. She built the first castle out of wood from the stump that sheltered her and her family, and set out in pursuit of corn. She laid all the foundations for a prosperous kingdom.

---

Cassandra the Overwhelmed

When the entirety of a legacy Is up to you to make, The pressure starts to multiply Which lead Cassandra to break

Hair: Black Eyes: Green Cheekmark colour: Yellow Aureole sign: Tadpole

Cassandra was freaked out by the prospect of running a kingdom and began breaking down after the birth of her child. She did nothing to better her kingdom, and let it fall into despair. It was during her reign that people fled her kingdom and established the Spiderbites, Johansens, and the minor kingdoms like Garbage Beach and the Dock of Unending Torment.

---

Jasmine the Star Chaser

There was no star Within the sky That didn't catch Young Jasmine’s eye

Hair: Dark brown Eyes: Yellow Cheekmark colour: White Aureole sign: Silkworm

Jasmine was a star gazer and started the trend of sky named children. She created the Aureole signs and looked to the stars for answers, which somehow ended up helping her repair the kingdom from her mother’s reign.

---

Andromeda the Shallow

The suitors flooded in the halls And spread throughout the land. Yet Andromeda the Shallow Picked the worst fit for her hand

Hair: Blonde Eyes: Pink Cheekmark colour: Light blue Aureole sign: Hydra

Andromeda had suitors from all sorts of kingdoms, yet she chose the worst political choice (a selfish vain man who just wanted power) just because he was handsome. It was because of his stupid desicions and insistence on growing their land that the animosity between mewman and monster started to grow.

---

Calliope the Musician

The peasants of Mewni hear her call, The music echoing in the hall, And despite the love for her fine tune, Her show was cut off far too soon

Hair: Magenta Eyes: Teal Cheekmark colour: Yellow Aureole sign: Narwhal

Calliope was the first and only Queen to become a songstrel and began the tradition of song-day and the coronation song. Her idea was that the princesses after her would have a song written about them, then give back the sentiment by writing their own song to become queen. She died shortly after her daughter’s song day, leaving her 14 year old daughter to become the youngest queen in Mewni history.

---

Cassiopeia the Indecisive

For Cassiopeia the Indecisive The choices mounted thick. To ease the issues in her mind She called upon Glossaryck

Hair: Pink Eyes: Blue Cheekmark colour: Green Aureole sign: Pixie

Being the youngest queen ever took its toll on Cassiopeia. She had a lot of choices to make as Queen and couldn't handle the pressure, so she called Glossaryck into existence as her advisor.

---

Titania the Explorer

A world awaited beyond the shores And none would be quite bolder Than the girl who left to sail the seas Titania the Explorer

Hair: Black Eyes: Green Cheekmark colour: Pink Aureole sign: Lion Dragon

After getting married and having her daughter, Titania took to the seas and found many islands of Mewni (pie island being one of them). She made most of them part of the kingdom, and didn’t take her responsibilities as queen very seriously.

---

Artemis the Wild

Running all throughout the kingdom, A completely untameable child As bright as the suns upon her cheeks Was Artemis the Wild

Hair: Red/Orange Eyes: Yellow Cheekmark colour: Yellow Aureole sign: Lion Dragon

Artemis was a crazy kid who refused to listen to reason. Since her mother left to explore the sea and her father was stuck ruling, Artemis was left to her own devices for most of her childhood. When she got older, she'd run into battle without a second glance and married the first random guy she came across. During her rule, she made a lot of spontaneous decisions, not always for the best.

---

Terra the Wise

Always calm and always sure The kingdom could depend on her. An answer to every single plight, the Wise knew how to run things right

Hair: White Eyes: Purple Cheekmark colour: Light green Aureole sign: Deadhorse

Terra disliked her mother's way of ruling and took the time to think everything through. She had great reasoning skills and always weighed her options before making a decision. She was the wisest of the queens and never made a bad decision in all the history of her rule.

---

Luna the Fearful

The monsters lurking in the night Filled poor Luna with dread. The swirl of fear and fantasy That must have filled her head

Hair: Lilac Eyes: Purple Cheekmark colour: Purple Aureole sign: Pony Head

Luna was born as the monsters began getting restless. She was terrified that they would attack, but there were no soldiers strong enough to fight for the kingdom. Her fear of monsters evolved into other things, like fear of losing her family, and it caused her to become paranoid.

---

Neptuna the Beautiful

No man or woman on Mewni Could resist Neptuna’s beauty. A treasure of the earth, No gems to capture her worth

Hair: Dark blue Eyes: Light blue Cheekmark colour: Pink Aureole sign: Pixie

Neptuna was a beautiful queen who didn't really do much. Her greatest attempt was trying to charm the monsters into stopping their attacks, which didn’t actually work.

---

Orion Queen of Peace

When beauty alone proved not enough To convince the monsters to cease A temporary solution came from Orion, Queen of Peace

Hair: Pastel green Eyes: Brown Cheekmark colour: Pink Aureole sign: Deadhorse

Orion saw that her mother was unable to keep the peace just through her looks, so she proposed a solution. If the monsters stopped attacking Mewmans and stayed in a certain part of land, the Mewmans would stop attacking them. This worked for a bit.

---

Polaris the Unbalanced

When a system seemed to be in place The scales were tipped too far one way. And the later acts of Polaris Ensured it stayed this way

Hair: Ice blue Eyes: Teal Cheekmark colour: Purple Aureole sign: Hydra

Polaris didn't like her mother's idea of getting along with the monsters so she tried taking more land from them, which they obviously disliked. She doubled down though, making it impossible for anyone to talk her out of it, and started a war. Her ideas began spreading until the Mewni population believed they were the rightful owners of the land.

---

Venus the Sympathetic

When too much fighting lead to blood And it all became too hectic The Queen just had to step away, Venus the Sympathetic

Hair: Orange Eyes: Teal Cheekmark colour: Yellow Aureole sign: Blowhole

Venus was naturally a sympathetic person and found the war took too much on her mental state. She couldn’t stand to see her people suffer, and as a result had to leave Mewni for a bit to travel the multiverse and clear her head.

---

Astrid the Scholar

Every book in the multiverse Was gathered by Astrid’s hand. All the knowledge and wisdom To share within Mewni’s land

Hair: Blonde Eyes: Blue Cheekmark colour: Purple Aureole sign: Tadpole

Astrid loved to read and (just like her mother) traveled the multiverse to gather a copy of “every book in existence”. She wanted to have the most magnificent library ever, and succeeded. She claims to have read every book in her collection, and no one doubts it for a second.

---

Pandora the Trickster

Good intentions, a bit of play, Too much magic, a dangerous day, A prank gone wrong with too much power, All that face it on will cower

Hair: Black Eyes: Blue Cheekmark colour: Red Aureole sign: Demon

The creator of Pandora’s box, Pandora loved to play pranks. Unfortunately, she greatly underestimated her powers and accidentally created the most dangerous box in the multiverse. She hid it in her closet, and it remained there far beyond her death until her great great something granddaughter found it in the ruins of the castle and tossed it in another dimension (probably for the better).

---

Daphne the Overachiever

When doing good was not enough Daphne dreamed of things too grand. She did the absolute most of any Queen to rule the land

Hair: Purple Eyes: Pink Cheekmark colour: Lilac Aureole sign: Hydra

Daphne always wanted to do the best things for her kingdom and went above and beyond to prove herself a good queen. She never stopped at a solution, and would work hard even after the problems were solved.

---

Soupina the Strange

A spell gone wrong is a tragic song Of potential forced to change. The wonders that she must have seen, Poor Soupina the Strange

Hair: Teal Eyes: Yellow Cheekmark colour: Pink Aureole sign: Pig-Goat

Soupina showed the signs of a great queen and a powerful magic wielder, but she got stuck with her mewberty eyes and went mad. She never reached her full potential, and caused a lot of problems for Mewni.

Potato the Comforting

Her heart would always lead her home, Her priorities were straight. So to care for her maddening mother, The kingdom had to wait

Hair: Light brown Eyes: Blue Cheekmark colour: Yellow Aureole sign: Warnicorn

Potato was the daughter of Soupina and was born after she went mad. She didn’t spend much time actually ruling, and instead spent most of her life trying to comfort her mother. During her reign, the mewman monster relation grew worse with no queen to guide them, causing a lot of citizens to act on their own.

---

Galexia the Queen of Change

Perhaps Galexia saw more than the rest For she was certain she was doing her best. Her insistence to categorize creatures so strange Gained her the title, the Queen of Change

Hair: Black Eyes: Brown Cheekmark colour: Blue Aureole sign: Narwhal

Galexia began making huge changes after she claimed there was a difference between demons, monsters, mermaids, etc. It was hard to accept at first, but it caught on, and soon the Waterfolk and Lucitors were accepted as Kingdoms of Mewni. She did this so she could marry the Prince of the Waterfolk.

---

Trinity the Rebel

When the lure of life beyond the wall Is too strong to ignore, The promises of fame and glory Called Trinity back to shore

Hair: Blue Eyes: Green Cheekmark colour: Teal Aureole sign: Demon

Trinity almost didn't become queen because she had run off to the waterfolk kingdom and had no desire to return. She came back a few years later though, ready to be Queen after learning all the perks of being famous. She never took ruling seriously though, and the kingdom fell into even rougher shape. She was also the first “half monster” princess.

---

Serena the Popular

Sometimes the quickest way to peace Is to make yourself loved near and far And the one to break this secret Was Serena the Popular

Hair: Magenta Eyes: Blue Cheekmark colour: Red Aureole sign: Pixie

During Trinity’s time, the smaller kingdoms began to get angry with the Butterflies and started making demands for more power. Similar to her great something grannie Neptuna, she believed that being liked was the way to peace. Unlike “the beautiful”, Serena had to work hard to make herself loved. She befriended the royals of the minor kingdoms and created a sense of unity.

---

Celestia the Mournful

No one knows the weight of loss Celestia the Mournful had to feel. With 3 sons lost and 4 daughters gone She was unsure of what remained real

Hair: Green Eyes: Green Cheekmark colour: Blue Aureole sign: Blowhole

Celestia suffered greatly and kept losing her children before they had even reached their first year, which drove her to question everything she knew. Only her youngest daughter, Gemina, survived and ended up living a long life. Celestia’s sons were named Taurus, Aries, and Sagitar. Her daughters were Caprica, Libra, Virga, and Aquaria. Taurus was the oldest boy and Caprica was the oldest girl.

---

Gemina the Animal Lover

Some say the animals whisper In languages of their own. So Gemina kept them by her side And they guided her on the throne

Hair: Light brown/orange Eyes: Teal Cheekmark colour: Magenta Aureole sign: Narwhal

Gemina was the first (and only) Queen to go beyond speaking alligator and actually found ways of communicating with other animals. She claimed they were very wise, and trusted their council more than that of Glossaryck and the MHC. The only reason she wasn’t deemed mad was because she seemed to be right, and her decisions based on her animal friends often benefited the kingdom.

---

Helia the Direct

Helia didn't have the time To leave the kingdom a wreck, So with a firm and steady hand Became Helia the Direct

Hair: Blonde Eyes: Purple Cheekmark colour: Pink Aureole sign: Deadhorse

Helia had let the kingdom fall into poverty during her early rule, and worked to fix it. She was extremely firm and never beat around the bush, causing many to think she was rather rude. Her blunt attitude was passed onto Lyric, her daughter.

---

Lyric the Short-Sighted

A million futures can exist And for many, this will leave them vexed. But Lyric only sees the now, No need to worry about what's next

Hair: Ice blue Eyes: Ice blue Cheekmark colour: Pink Aureole sign: Pixie

Lyric made all her decisions based on what would benefit her immediately and never considered the consequences of her actions. The two most famous examples were choosing the book of fashion over the book of spells, and giving her daughter the throne at only 17. Throughout her rule too, she made many choices that ended up causing her more trouble in the long run. She let her daughter fix most of these.

#my art #svtfoe #svtfoe oc #queens of mewni #lyric butterfly #soupina the strange #soupina butterfly #svtfoe queen

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sweetbyte · 5 years

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Title: Patronus pt.1

Pairing(s): TodoMomo | BakuMomo (Friendship)

Rating: T

Summary: Apart of the Lessons in Magic Series/HP AU. Yaoyorozu finds a way to deal with failure, Bakugou tries to help, Todoroki is exceedingly distracting and he doesn't even know.....

He expects her patronus to be regal and elegant like her.

He’s vaguely aware of others in the room shouting out ‘expecto patronum’ while others, like him, are waiting for Yaoyorozu to succeed, as she usually does. Yaoyorozu has always been far ahead in every class and has been since first year so this will probably be no feat for her. She’ll summon her patronus, the professor will billow “10 points to Ravenclaw!” and everyone will be in awe of her magical prowess.

With a graceful but practiced swish of her wand, she clearly chants the incantation and suddenly silence falls upon the room as nothing happens.

Shouto hears snickers coming from a group of Slytherin girls who have always had it in for the girl as soon as she was sorted into Ravenclaw. Being from the most powerful pureblood house, it was quite the scandal to have broken the generations of Slytherin heirs. They are quickly silenced by an irate Bakugo, whose jaw is clenched at the sight of Yaoyorozu visibly getting distraught. The action is enough to snap most students from the sight and continue their own attempts at the spell.

As she continues to try, her want movements become shaky and her voice is almost desperate. When Midoriya successfully produces what looks to be a phoenix, her eyes widen and her wand falls to the ground. He takes a step towards her, but Bakugo has already let out a stream of profanity quickly picking up her wand and is escorting her, or rather dragging her out of the class. The professor says nothing, as he’s fascinated by the other boy’s patronus. They were only practicing, no one actually expected a corporal patronus.

The Slytherin girls resume their snickering and Shouto ignores the pang of jealousy and truly hopes that the abrasive blond can console Yaoyorozu.

Bakugou gives her space. He doesn’t ask her how she feels. He doesn’t lecture her. He doesn’t try console her with soothing words or gestures. He giver her space to get through her embarrassing episode of anxiety and she’s grateful.

Once she’s calmed down, she apologizes. He naturally scoffs.

“You don’t have to an overachieving swot at everything, you know.” He’s leaning against a castle wall and she resists the urge to nag him for he’s dirtying his robes. Instead she allows a small meek smile and moves to lean next to him, allowing her head to rest on his shoulder. “You should heed your own advice.”

“I am sorry you missed the class babysitting me.” She starts again causing him to nudge her head. “Stop bloody apologizing.” His tone is warning but she ignores it. “You didn’t get to-“

“It wouldn’t have mattered. I know I wouldn’t have been able to produce one anyway.”

“How are you so sure?” Momo moves her head to glance at him in question, but he stares off into the distance with a blank expression. “We are on the same sodding boat, are we not? No happy memories or overwhelming feelings of love to conjure up…”

She lets out a deep sigh and contemplates how what he said was true. The pure hearted, compassionate Yaoyorozu could not conjure up a patronus because she truly had no precious memory she held close to her heart.

“How utterly depressing” She blurts, almost cynically that it surprises her, and she feels him grunt in agreement.

“Truly fucked up, indeed.”

The rest of week was spent practicing summoning their patronus. The rest of the week was also absent of Yaoyorozu’s presence. He tried not to think about how it bothered him. The head girl is the embodiment of academic perfection so a couple of absent days are not all common for her.

Despite practicing, less than half of the class could summon a patronus, and he was not included in that small group. It surprised him that, that didn’t bother him much at all.

He ran into her, literally, on the morning of their break day. She had just rounded the corner of the grounds outside, where the air was chilly, when they collided. She let out a squeak as she fell before him, in slow motion it seemed, and he did his best to catch her mid-air to no avail. She landed in a somehow graceful heap, and laughed sheepishly, not yet looking at him or his outstretched hand.

“Ouch. My apologies! I did not mean to de so unaware of my surroundings! You see there was a cat, and I was trying to see if the poor thing was a stray. Though that is probably highly unlikely, I felt the need to check. It’s rather cold out here for a cat to be wondering around- “

“Yaoyorozu.” He interrupts the girls rambling and her eyes fly open as she jumps in surprise.

“Todoroki! What brings you around here? Oh, do pardon me, that came out incredibly rude! Also pardon me again for being so reckless, you see there was a cat and- “He allows himself to smile at her antics before cutting in again.

“Yaoyorozu, I’ll tell you after you let me help you up. I doubt the cold cement is all that comfortable.”

“Oh, right!” Her laugh is light and melodic, and he notes that her hands are soft despite the cold as he helps her up.

“I am truly sorry” Momo begins again, and he waves her off. “If anyone should be sorry, I think its me. I scared off your cat.”

“No worries, my only concern was for it not to be caught in the harsh weathers.”

“I was on my way to the library to study charms.” He answers her first question as he watches her pat down her robes.

“I never pegged you as an early riser.” She blurts out.

“Truth be told, I wasn’t. I rather found I now enjoy the peaceful solitude the morning brings. Additionally, the books I needed where usually already booked out by midday.” He nods his head to the direction of the library and she joins him on his trek.

“It appears I owe you another apology.” His eyebrow arches, asking for elaboration and she laughs lightly. “I may have been the one monopolizing the books.”

Nothing can stop the jump in his chest at the sound of her laugh, and nothing can stop the twitch of his lips. “Well, I can’t say I’m all that shocked.” He is not, it makes perfect sense.

“I’ll be mindful in the future” She promises. “Truthfully, most of them are rereads for me.” She admits guiltily, and he relishes the color that graces her cheeks.

He smiles as they come to the split, finally in the corridors of the castle. “No need to apologize. If anything, now I know who to hunt down in the future.” Her eyes widen and he allows himself to smirk at the sight. “That is, if you can manage to get them before me.

Content with himself, he gives her a final nod. “I’ll see you around, Yaoyorozu.”

His blood is warm as he turns to continue down to the library, willing himself to ignore the thunderous heartbeat that is embarrassingly his.

Momo is still frozen when he disappears from her sight around the corner. She’s frozen, but her body is on fire. Her treacherous heart is surely about to implode.

Momo has spent a good amount of her 7 years at Hogwarts fancying this boy, and in her experience of fawning from afar, she cannot say she’s ever seen him smirk. Well, correction, he has smirked but only a handful of times when dueling in DADA.

What’s worse is that it was directed towards her and she doesn’t know what to do. She remembers the muggle saying she learned earlier in the week and pinches herself. Not dreaming, but definitely dazed, and that’s how Bakugou finds her.

“What’s got you looking stupid?”

“Huh?” His face twists and concern paints his face so quickly that its comical and he puts a hand on her forehead. ‘Huh’ is not and has never been in her vocabulary.

“What the actual fuck? You’re burning up! Don’t tell me you’re sick.” He grimaces, taking a step back in precaution while swiftly retracting his hand. She ends up choking on air, which further deepens his scowl. “You should probably go to the infirmary, you’ll end up worse if you try occlumency today.”

“No! I am not sick!” She argues. They had gotten special permission after some stings where pulled to allow Bakugou to teach her occlumency in efforts to control her emotions after her anxiety episode. Occlumency is mainly used to protect the mind and thoughts, but they concluded that it might assist her in controlling her nerves. Bakugou might not be the most patient person, but what he had been teaching her was helpful.

“I don’t want to hear it. I ain’t taking any chances.” Her nose scrunches up at his comment. His mother would truly be sent to the grave if she heard him talking like that. “I trust you can make it to the infirmary on your own...?”

“What a gentleman, truly. I must insist, I am not- “

“I told you I ain’t-” He rolls his eyes at her obvious distaste “I am not taking any chances, we are done here.”

Again, she’s stuck watching the retreating from of yet another male and sighs. Boys

Bakugou eyes her skeptically when they resume her occlumency lessons in the room of requirement. Momo huffs in response and starts warming up with breathing exercises. Now that he has been teaching her for about a week, he has become rather ruthless when pushing into her mind.

‘You’re not going to get a proper warning if someone wants to bust in, Yaoyorozu! They are not gonna ask for your bloody permission.’

As soon as she’s done, she takes her position in front of him and nods, signaling she’s ready. He only glares before immediately starting his assault.

‘Build a wall’ She remembers him demanding, but the walls are barely holding up. She vaguely recalls the muggle tale of the wolf and the three little pigs before she feels Bakugou push again. She feels a crack in her barrier and that’s all he needs to bust in. Suddenly she’s on her knees gasping as her thoughts and memories she’s tried to hide flash by her leaving her exposed.

Momo is still trying to catch her breath when Bakugou’s shoes come into her line of sight. She manages to look up and catches the grimace on his face while he extends a hand to help her up.

“Am I getting better?” She asks, breathless, as she lets him pull her up to her feet and he snorts.

“I mean, you are lasting longer, but its still fucking easy to read you. I told you to build-“

“Walls. Yes, that is precisely what I have been doing!” She interrupts him, agitated causing him to snicker. “Sure, it is, princess.”

“You doubt me?”

“Its just really bloody hard to believe when the first thing I see is you hot and bothered over that halfie.” Momo squeaks, mortified.

“Your father is one of the best legilimens, is he not? That annoying prick would be dead if your father saw what I did.”

She knows he’s right, so she can only nod with determination. “Again.”

AN// Thank you for reading. I feel like I’m finally getting my mojo back. Just took a year or two, I know. Excuse any error, this is unbeta’d and non proof-read.

#bnha #my writes #jots #todomomo #bakumomo brotp #hp au #lessons in magic

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

Caretakers 2/2 (Branjie)- athena2

A/N: Here’s part 2, where José takes care of Brock. Thank you to everyone that read part 1! Also, a special thank you to @mistressaq, for being so excited about part 2 and beta-ing it for me!

“Will you find the pills already? I’m gonna drop dead before you find them!” Brock yells, leg bouncing up and down with anxiety. He’s perched on the edge of the bed while José spreads the various pills across the mattress, smug grin lighting up his face. Brock never gets sick and he knows José is having way too much fun with this.

“You’re not gonna die. You’re fine,” José reassures him for the tenth time, placing a hand on his knee to calm the bouncing.

Brock tries to listen but he can’t. His mind is moving too fast to slow down, thinking about all the deadly diseases he could have, even though he knows it’s not that bad.

“Here!” José exclaims triumphantly, loud enough for Brock to hear even as he sneezes. “These shits”–he holds up a strip of red pills– “are amazing. Two of these and you’ll feel a lot better, trust me.”

“Good, I’ll need them for tonight.”

“You’re seriously still gonna do the show? Weren’t you just threatening to drop dead a minute ago?” José challenges, eyebrow raised.

“Look, everyone already thinks we’re fucking on the side. If I’m sick enough to miss a show less than a week after you were sick enough to miss a show, it’s way too obvious. Besides, I’ll be fine once the pills kick in. I want to go on. I really hate missing performances,” he insists, glossing over the uncertain nature of their current relationship.

He’s performed with a cold before, performed with worse than that a few times. He’s used to working through pain and sickness, pushing himself beyond what is probably healthy, and he’s positive he can get through tonight. And he doesn’t want to tell José (mainly because he knows the younger man will tell him he shouldn’t think this way, and he’s probably right), but Brock doesn’t want to miss a show because it just proves that he is weak. He feels weak enough already to have caught a stupid cold. There’s no way he’s going to succumb to the weakness and miss a show over it, even if he just wants to curl into a ball and sleep all day. If you don’t go on, you’re a failure. How can you even call yourself a performer if you miss a show for a cold? You can’t fail and disappoint people like that.

“Fine,” José huffs. “But you better remember that I said no to this from the start, and I get one free ‘I told you so’ if it goes bad. Aaannnddd,” he starts, dragging it out so the word is longer than A’Keria’s orange wig, “you can’t get mad at me for asking how you’re doing every five seconds like you did to me,” he smiles.

“Deal,” Brock agrees with a grin. He can’t help but notice that José didn’t address anything about the rumors that they were still together. He doesn’t know if he’s relieved or upset by that and finally decides on confused.

They spend the day in bed, flicking back and forth between reruns of The Office and Parks and Recreation, and even in its sick, hazy state, Brock’s mind will not quiet down. José’s hand runs through his hair soothingly, making him feel like a cat. Does it mean anything that José is staying with him when there’s probably more exciting things he could be doing? Is he just here as a friend, or to repay Brock for his help, or for something more? What even are they anymore? They’ve been together every day for the past week, and now they’re in bed together for the second time in days. They’ve been finishing each other’s sentences, bantering and laughing in unison like they used to, and just yesterday Brock had been craving cookies and José burst into his room with a bag of Chips Ahoy! like he could read his mind. He groans. He needs to stop thinking or he’ll have a headache on top of everything else.

Brock doesn’t mean to, but he must fall asleep, because one minute José is rubbing his back and the next his phone alarm blares and he blinks awake dazedly. He forces his eyes open and it’s like the clouds have parted over him–he doesn’t feel that shitty anymore. José was right. Those pills are amazing. He leaps out of bed and tears around the room gathering his bags.

“I feel good! Let’s do this thing!”

“Oh, so now you okay, hoe? Three hours ago you were planning your own funeral. And for the record, I don’t think having Nina sing ‘Wind Beneath My Wings’ is a good idea,” José retorts.

“It’s an amazing idea. I stand by my decision,” Brock tries to say seriously, then launches into snorting laughter. José laughs along with him until they both have tears in their eyes, and it’s something Brock thought he had given up for good. Friends or otherwise, having this comfort, this freedom to just be, is something he never thought he’d be able to experience with José again. If it takes an illness to let him have José like this, he’ll gladly get sick a thousand times over.

***

He takes it easy during the show, doesn’t throw himself all over the stage or do any shoulder-stands. Brooke puts on a good front and Vanessa checks on him discreetly enough that none of the other girls suspect anything, except A’Keria, who glances at him with concern every now and then. That bitch always knows when something’s up, Brooke thinks admirably. The crowd is loving them and he feels so good he wonders if he was ever really sick or if it was all a dream, but the warmth and softness of José’s hands on his back were just too real to have been in his head. (He would know. He’s been dreaming about José’s touch for months now, each time waking up breathless with regret and longing and want).

But in the last 10 minutes everything goes to hell all at once. His limbs are made of cement and he can barely move. His head weighs a million pounds, straining his neck just to hold it up. He’s swallowing razor blades and his nose has become Niagara Falls. Brooke hopes Nina has enough time to prepare her song for the funeral. He staggers off stage after the last number, head spinning and floor shifting beneath his heels, Vanessa rushing after him in a flurry of sequins. She stretches a hand up to his forehead and her face twists with worry. “You’re really burning up, Brooke. We better get you to bed.”

There’s no argument left in him. He knows she’s right, and if it wasn’t for her arm around his waist he’d be on the floor right now. He’s Cinderella after midnight, pills worn off and magic stripped from him. Brooke nods tiredly and lets her lead him back to the dressing room to de-drag.

They get back to the hotel as fast as they can, Brock collapsing into bed and waiting anxiously while José digs through the mess of medicine bottles on the dresser and recovers a thermometer.

“Don’t be so scared, Brock. You look like a kid about to get a shot at the doctor’s office,” José teases as he brings the thermometer to the bed.

Brock manages a small laugh, grateful José is trying to calm him. “I just kinda…freak out when I get sick. It doesn’t happen much so when it does I turn into a baby and panic about it,” he admits.

José slips the thermometer under his tongue and gently caresses Brock’s face, running a thumb over his too-warm cheek. “You’re okay, baby. Nothing to worry about,” he whispers softly.

Now that he’s off stage and in bed, now that he’s here with José and doesn’t have to put on the ‘I’m fine’ mask, the worry is coming back. Vanessa said he was warm, which means he has a fever, which means he’s sicker than a cold. What if he’s dying? Oh god, he’s dying. He wills the thermometer to hurry up and beep, tell him how high his temperature is so he can start listing the various illnesses it might be a symptom of.

José pulls out the thermometer and squints at it. “101.9. Why you always gotta be an overachiever, Brock? Can’t even get a damn normal cold.”

“Sorry.” 101.9, that’s not too high, right? His rational side tries to convince him. But the fear is rising so fast rationality has jumped off a roof. It’s not low, you idiot, it’s basically 102, and another degree puts you in the danger zone. Besides, there’s plenty of fatal diseases that start out slow. You’re still gonna die.

José laughs. “Well, one of these pills will take care of the fever. Just let me find it. You’ll be okay.”

“Are you sure? What if it’s some sort of rare disease? What if I’m dying? I’m probably dying. I’m gonna die in a hotel room, oh my God. You better take care of my cats,” he commands, rapidly coming to terms with his own death.

“You’re not dying. Calm down.”

“How do you know?” he demands hysterically. “You’re not a doctor!”

“Neither are you, Mary!” José yells, exasperated. He takes a breath and softens. “Look, I promise you’re gonna be fine. I was sick, and I’m okay now, and you’ll be okay too.” He pauses, then grips Brock’s hand and looks him directly in the eyes. “Brock, do you really think I’d let anything happen to you?”

Brock goes quiet. He knows how serious José is, and even his worrying mind cannot doubt the sincerity. (Well, it could if it really wanted to, his doubt is what caused the whole mess months ago in the first place, but Brock manages to turn it off for now). Regardless of what happened or what will happen, Brock knows that José is here, and nothing bad is going to happen to him because José won’t let it.

“I trust you,” he says simply. He discreetly wipes at his eyes, which are brimming with tears he just can’t let fall. Thankfully José doesn’t say anything, just grabs a bottle of Gatorade and holds out a pill for Brock to take.

He takes the pill and José gets him settled, fixing pillows, adjusting lights, and making sure he has a water bottle next to the bed.

“You’ll stay with me?” Brock asks, echoes of mere nights ago running through him.

“Of course.”

Brock pats the space next to him and then turns on his side, praying José will do what Brock is so desperately and deeply wishing for. José presses up against his back and lowers an arm around his waist, a mirror image from earlier this week. Brock holds back his smile, but nothing can stop the jolt in his heart or the warmth spreading in his stomach.

José leans over and kisses him on the cheek, and the deja vu sends Brock’s head spinning. He wonders if José will get sick again, and pictures himself taking care of the younger man. Then maybe Brock would get sick again too, and José would take care of him, and he wonders if the two of them would just keep going back and forth getting sick and helping each other, caught in an endless loop of being each other’s caretaker. He honestly doesn’t think it would be so bad, and he wonders if the fever is messing with his head. What if he’s delirious? Can you be considered delirious if you know you’re delirious? Maybe he should–

“Stop thinking so loud and get some sleep, baby,” José says quietly.

That’s the second baby of the night, Brock notes. Please stop, he begs himself. Just please stop thinking. I’m too tired for this.

Brock starts coughing, pain shooting through his chest as the fit worsens. His shoulders heave and he is gasping for breath and holding his ribs when it finally ends. José is no longer behind him but in front of him, holding out the water bottle from the nightstand. Brock takes a few cautious sips and regains his breath before giving the bottle back to José.

The mattress dips as he returns to the bed, and then José’s hands are on his back again, rubbing soothing circles. The touch is light, and warm, and real. It’s real, and those hands on his back slow Brock’s breathing down. It’s real, and his mind is able to be quiet for once and focus on the touch without overthinking it. It’s real, and it is infinitely better than anything he could possibly dream of.

“Thanks,” he whispers.

“Oh, one more thing. You had me so worried I almost forgot.”

“What?”

“I told you so.”

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #fluff #hurt/comfort #sick fic #caretakers #athena2 #concrit welcome #submission #canon compliant

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