#they somehow give a sense of security that you don't wanna leave them

[linusbenjamin]

Lost 3.15 | Left Behind

[anachronistic-falsehood]

SHIP BINGO FOR THE GUYS U WANNA TALK ABOUT. CELLTW I THINK . gimme the cannibalism rundown king

MAC. looking u dead in the eyes. getting into celltw has almost convinced me to start watching hannibal i guess i just really like gay cannibalism and i need more of it. ANYWAY listen listen listennnn. ok. qcellbit and qpac are my little fucking guys alright. my favourite boys. i'm gonna give you their whole fucking backstory here ok. ok. infodump time. i apologize in advance

so cellbit was a child soldier who didn't even have a NAME. resorted to cannibalism to survive. badboyhalo was there. both stuck in a war. killed thousands of people. AWFUL TIMES!!! goes from child soldier to domestic terrorist somehow. he gets arrested and thrown in FUCKING ALCATRAZ. HE'S STILL A CANNIBAL. somehow manages to sneak a cell phone in and uses it to threaten prisoners and people start calling him cell because he literally didn't have a name before. right. ENTER PAC E MIKE. they're robbers for a living. the sillies <3 they robbed a top security museum and got caught and thrown in alcatraz. cell has gone bonkers and fucking yonkers. weird habit of licking his lips. i'm in love with him. protects pac e mike from other prisoners. they are wary of him (understandable). pac e mike make a friend named jv who tries to help them escape. cell kills him right in front of them and tries to escape himself. gets thrown in solitary. pac e mike go to the solitary cells just to mock him. lots of lowkey gay tension in that scene???? eventually pac e mike escape with the help of another friend but cell tags along because he threatens them with a gun he got from a security guard he killed. THIS MAN IS UNHINGED!!!

they end up on a deserted island. the boat they used to sail there needs repairs and four people can't fit on it at all anymore. cell decides one of them needs to die and tells the others they can decide which one has to be killed. cell is the only one who manages to find food on the island, which happens to be apples. he hoards it from the others and I SHIT YOU NOT THERE IS SOME WEIRD FUCKING RELIGIOUS IMAGERY GOING ON HERE. OK. pac seeks out cell, and CELL, WHO IS SITTING IN A TREE, OFFERS PAC AN APPLE IF HE KILLS ONE OF THE OTHERS. PAC SAYS HE'LL THINK ABOUT IT AND CELL GIVES HIM AN APPLE. I'M GOING TO EAT DRYWALL. I DON'T KNOW IF THEY DID THAT ON PURPOSE BUT THEY SURE FUCKIN DID IT ALRIGHT. at some point cell eats pac's leg but we have no idea when that canonically happens bc it was only canonized in qsmp and wasn't shown in Fuga Impossível where he and mike met cell, but IT'S STILL FUCKING CANON AND I LIKE TO THINK IT HAPPENED SOMEWHERE ON THAT FUCKING ISLAND. ALRIGHT. IT COULD HAVE HAPPENED IN PRISON BUT IT HAPPENING ON THE ISLAND JUST MAKES SO MUCH MORE SENSE 2 ME.

they trick cell and trap him, telling him to use the last bullet in his gun for himself. the three of them leave the island and hear a single gunshot. they think he's dead. SIKE!!! somehow years and years later, pac, mike, and cell, plus two others are all on the same ship together and end up on a new island. cell now goes by cellbit??? and really likes mysteries and is a pretty chill person in comparison to how he used to be??? he went through copious amounts of therapy and is actually somewhat well adjusted. he's a pretty cool guy.

he's changed. mike has changed. pac has changed. they're all so different. he and cellbit get stuck in a cave and they kiss. it's weird. they don't do it again after that. cellbit starts talking to another guy, roier. they get married. pac is disappointed but he doesn't talk about it too much. why is he disappointed? he doesn't really know. pac has changed but every time he looks at cellbit he's back in that prison. one day, everyone's furniture goes missing, including cellbit's. pac's first instinct is to grab his son by the shoulders and tell him to pack his things because when cellbit sees that someone has robbed him he will go on a rampage the likes of which no one has ever seen. that doesn't happen. cellbit snaps and demands public execution of the culprit so they can drink his blood. he's holding a knife. he's easily placated and puts the knife away. cell is clearly somewhere in there. this is the first glimpse pac has gotten of him in the five months they've been here. pac licks his lips the same way cell used to. it's a habit.

their son goes missing. the president is put on drugs by the federation. pac has lost everything. he takes the fed's medication so he can try finding a cure. he sits in cellbit's castle panicking for a solid five minutes, debating with himself over whether he should leave some of the medication for cellbit to find in hopes he can help them. he tries to find a cure on his own while still hopped up on pills. there's blood on the floor. he leaves notes for his loved ones. he knows cellbit well enough to know he will come looking and find this. the thought is as terrifying as it is relieving. cellbit develops a cure with pac's notes. cellbit yells at the president, the fellow father of their son. pac only hears cell. he takes the antidote he helped develop. cellbit guides him home and tells him he's not alone anymore and never will be again. they hug. it's terrifying. it's comforting. it's weird.

cellbit clearly left that prison behind. pac never has. he probably never will.

[drarry-is-totally-cannon]

Drarry & the Goblet of Fire: 4th Year Rewrite

Chapter 9 - The Dark Mark

A roar goes up when Krum catches the snitch. The Irish fans cheer for the end of the game securing their already massive lead and the Bulgarian fans cheer to salvage what's left of their pride.

Harry's Ireland hat and jacket light up, shouting the names of the players in the announcer's voice. He and Draco cheer, not because they've really managed to enjoy the game through the threat of Death Eater's presence, but because cheering feels better than worrying.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye," Draco says solemnly, still not looking at Harry as the players exit the field, thunder made by thousands of clapping hands following them out.

"What?" It takes Harry a moment to understand, too caught up in the moment. "Oh, yeah." he looks down at his feet.

Neither of them wants to leave. Harry knows his friends are probably worried sick, and that he should probably go back to them, but he can't leave Draco knowing what he does now. If the Death Eaters truly are trying to make a resurgence and they're going after anyone who isn't pure blood, could Draco be on that list?

"Hey, you know, nothing has happened yet." Harry points out. Draco gives the barest hint of a smile. "If something was going to happen, it'd make sense to do it during the game, when no one's looking . . . so we could hang out?"

"Well, if you insist, Potter. I know I could certainly use a distraction." He gestures for Harry to follow him. Under the cover of his large Ireland hat, Harry follows Draco and descends down the stairs of the bright arena and into the night.

-

The Malfoy tent is empty, the only occupants being the twelve peacocks tethered outside. They hiss at Draco as he enters. Harry hesitates, but not for long before Draco drags him inside.

The tent is more of a house than a tent. 'If this is their tent, what must Malfoy's house look like?'

Harry's thoughts are interrupted with a loud, "Got it! Let's go!" as Draco emerges from the living room with a bottle of Firewhiskey.

"That looks expensive," Harry says warily. He may not be familiar with the ins and outs of wizard alcohol but he knows it looks a lot like what Uncle Vernon saved for special occasions.

"Oh, don't worry, Father's only been saving it for a couple of years."

'That sounds like something he'll get in big trouble for.' But the rebellious glint in Draco's eyes makes Harry go along with it.

-

The two tote the whiskey out to the forest and take turns sipping from the bottle. At first, they cough and splutter, but as the alcohol floods their systems and their taste buds dull, they acclimate to the fiery drink.

"I've actually never drank before, not really. No more than a sip of Mother's wine when she allowed it." Draco admits.

"That's still more than me, I haven't even really had more than one soft drink," Harry tells him.

In five minutes, they don't care how loud their laughter is, inhibitions lowered significantly. It feels as if somehow, they know each other better than they did this morning.

"Psst!" Draco flicks Harry's forehead, hissing way too loudly for how close they are. "Wanna do underage magic?"

"Hell yeah!"

It takes them longer than it should to rise to their feet, legs shaking like newborn calves, until the dizziness passes.

-

Jinxes fly between them, but they're both too unsteady to dodge too much, so they lie on their backs in the dirt, Harry with Slytherin green hair and Draco with Gryffindor Maroon. Quite a familiar shade actually, one Harry had seen just a few hours ago.

Harry looks over at the former blond and giggles. "You look pretty."

Draco blushes profusely. Harry giggles louder.

"Pretty like Cedric."

Draco's smile slips off his face at once. He glares, before remembering, 'He isn't mine. He never will be. I have to go before I do something I can't take back.'

"Yeah. like Cedric. I have to go. Father will be looking for me."

"Wha- Wait.' Harry slurs, throwing out an arm, but he's too dizzy to really get up and stop Draco, barely grasping his sleeve before Draco pulls away. "Please."

"Sorry," Draco mumbles over his shoulders. 'It's shitty, leaving him there like that but, I can't stand to look at his face, his lips, as he says things like that. He probably doesn't even mean it. Merlin, Draco. Get. It. Together!'

-

Draco doesn't make it far. Before he's cleared the treeline he hears a scream. It's coming from the campground but he runs back toward Harry on instinct.

"Harry!" he shouts the boy's name frantically. 'Is he still . . . did he go? What's happening?'

Suddenly something slams into him, sending him falling to the ground.

"What's all the screaming?" Harry asks, slightly breathless.

"I don't know, I came to ask you. I mean, no offense, Potter, but when there's trouble it tends to be your fault." His tone is bitter again, still not having forgiven Harry for his compliment of the Hufflepuff boy.

"Yeah, right, well, I swear I haven't got a fucking clue this time," Harry says, scowling, already making his way back out of the forest. He picked up on Draco's bitterness, of course he did. They know each other better than they think.

'What's he mad at me for? It's his father that's probably a Death Eater.'

Draco follows him, already regretting his words. 'He was drunk, I shouldn't have- He doesn't need to know.'

Sprinting back through the woods, they reach the treeline quickly. They step out into a campground, not like the one they saw this morning. This one is painted in flickering shades of red and orange.

Fire.

"Get down!" Harry hisses, yanking Draco to the ground as a stray spark ignites above them. Harry stands over Draco now, looking sobered and shaken. 

"Shite! It's the Death Eaters."

Draco leaps up, knocking Harry back. It's impulsive, but he has to know, he has to. Is his father among the masked terrorists?

"Malfoy, you idiot! What are you doing?" Harry scolds from the ground.

"I- I need to know." Draco's voice breaks. Harry understands.

"Yeah, well you can ask him later, for now, we've got to run. They're burning the campsite, we've got to do something."

Harry gets up, pulling Draco along until they reach another opening in the trees. He starts to reveal himself, but Draco yanks him back. Harry spins around, ready to shake his friend off but stops when he sees his face. So afraid. 

'I don't want to face them, Harry. I don't want to face my father.'

"Okay, then let's just try to find help."

Draco nods, mouth too dry to speak.

-

They don't find the Weasleys or Hermione, (which might be a good thing) but they do find the old woman from earlier, clutching her granddaughter. Draco casts a cloaking charm and the woman smiles before disapparating away.

But they've stayed in place for too long. 

The Death Eaters proceed at an even determined pace, so secure in the destruction they've created around them. They move with a strange determination, Harry notes. Draco must be rubbing off on him, he thinks, for him to become so observant. 'Determination to do what? Does that mean this isn't the worst of it?'

Hexes launch their way across the field, setting tents ablaze, and sending wizards and witches into various states of panic and discombobulation. A stray hex, an alarming shade of smoky purple heads straight for Harry. 

He doubts it was intentional, they couldn't have seen him from around the large tent, but it's going to hit him regardless. Between the tightly packed tents, there's nowhere to run.

He's still working out a plan when he hits the ground for what's got to be the fourth time today. He's been shoved into a random tent. It looks far from where they just were. How?

Harry rolls over, shaking his head. He feels woozy, and sitting up proves fruitless. If his hair was messy before it looks like he's been struck by lightning now. Instead of sitting up he moves tentatively to lay on his hip, propping himself up by the elbow. To his relief, the nausea and starts in his vision fade. 

Draco sits cross-legged beside him, his hair mused nearly as much as Harry's and his left arm hanging over his thigh at an obtuse angle. He examines it with narrowed eyes, sucking in a quiet breath as he flexes his fingers.

(A/N: Pushing my left-handed Draco agenda. Why? So he and Harry can hold hands under their desks, of course. Also, left-handed people are cool.)

He looks at the newly-woken Harry, putting effort into a small smile that looks more like a grimace. "Welcome to the land of the living, Potter. I'm not the smoothest at this yet, so the arrival knocked you out."

"What arrival, where?" Harry scrambles up, in panic mode, feeling hurriedly around for his glasses in case he needs to leave quickly. 

'We're in a house?' Harry wonders. The space around them is charmingly decorated, reminding them of the few pictures Hermione had shown them of her house.

"I didn't get us far, just to a tent a few metres away, but-" He notices Harry's search. And with an awkward gesture, places the glasses on Harry's lap. "Here, I could've done better, but my wand hand is my left."

Draco doesn't know why he says that, of course, Harry knows which hand he uses his wand in.

"It's fine. What happened?"

"Perhaps I did a worse job on your glasses than I thought. It's broken, obviously, Potter. I'm not sure if it was the jinx, or if I did it wrong. I've only done this by myself once before." Draco sounds a bit stressed.

Harry shakes his head, getting a bit annoyed, "Did what, Malfoy?"

Draco blinks, the smallest of signs revealing the frazzle beneath his calm, "I disapparated us, Potter."

"App- but you're 14. I thought . . .?"

"Anyone over the age of ten can do it with practice, and my mother's been teaching me over the summer, but I didn't mean to, not this time. I just panicked and it happened, okay. I'm sorry. I know it's lucky neither of us got splinched." He looks upset with himself.

'I could've hurt Harry, but what else could I have done?'

The way Draco winces on the word keeps Harry from asking what splinching is.

'I think he thinks I know way more about this than I do.'

"Don't be sorry, you probably saved my life, again."

Draco pretends not to hear him, turning away to hide his blush. "We should go, they're bound to burn this row any minute now." Without another word, not even a huff of pain, Draco continues moving, pushing himself up with his right hand, a bitter glare in his eyes.

'He's nothing like he was last year with Buckbeak. He hasn't cried at all. Is he in shock? . . . Or did something happen over summer holiday to make him used to pain like this? The way Mr. Malfoy looked at him earlier, does he always look at him like that? Does he do worse? . . . What am I thinking, he's the spoiled one between us. But he's still brave, smirk, and bear it brave. Slytherin is brave. '

Still a little dazed from the amature dissparation, not expecting Draco's quick pace, Harry's "Yeah." is belated and he struggles to his feet, feeling the alcohol as he tries to keep up with Draco.

When he only stumbles again, this time into Draco, the blond turns around. "Merlin, Potter, I'm right here, if you need help just ask for it." 

Harry looks down embarrassed. Internally Draco panics, but there's no taking the phrasing back now. Luckily for him, he hasn't rubbed off on Harry that much, The Chosen One is still decidedly dense.

Harry shakes his head, straightening up from where he'd been leaning against Draco. "Yeah, sorry. I shouldn't have drank so mu-"

"It's fine, forget that now. We'll be lucky if that's what we get punished for tonight. In fact, I hope it's the ministry that finds us." The "not my father" goes unsaid but not unheard even to Harry's slightly ringing ears, "And I take back what I said earlier Potter, Expelliarmus is just as good as any other spell. If we get caught, give it all you've got."

"Oh, ha, ha, ha, Malfoy, that's really funn-" Harry's voice dies mid-sentence. "Malfoy," he tries not to panic, "did you take my wand when I passed out?"

"What, no? Why would I? You never take another wizard's wand without permission, surely even you know that."

"So you didn't?"

"No . . . Oh, Merlin, Potter . . . don't tell me you've lost it." Darco's face says he's so so tired of this, of everything that's happened tonight.

"Hey! I haven't lost it, I swear I put it in my pocket earlier."

"Well it's not there now, is it?"

"No." Harry sags in defeat, "It must have fallen out when I fell or when you apparated us or something."

Both boys ignore the possibility that it was taken and the much bigger problem: If Harry doesn't have his wand, then who does?

But they haven't got time to worry about that now.

"Okay, let's just, uh," Draco hesitates, groaning and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Retrace our steps and look for it. The woods are probably safer anyway. The Death Eaters can't linger long, I'm sure Aurors are already on their way. If the worst happens we'll stay in the woods until the ministry comes in the morning to check the scene."

Harry nods, relieved that the ringing has stopped, "Yeah. Let's go." 

Ever the Gryffindor, he wants to lead, but knows it's probably better to let Draco do it.

'He doesn't seem to be teasing me for it, so that's nice. But I mean this is hardly a funny situation. He's more mature than I thought, when did that happen?'

But Draco stops him mid-step. He pats the tent flap away, wiping his glasses with his sleeve to make sure what he's seeing is right. The campground has been decimated, turned in under an hour from a place teeming with celebration to a blurry brown mass. Ash coats the ground like thick winter snow and dances through the air, providing the accompanying snowflakes. There's more ash than there should be, probably because most tents were far larger on the inside. Even the grand Malfoy family tent is nowhere to be seen. 

'Did Mr. Malfoy pack it up at the last second, or did he burn it too?'

But when Harry looks at Draco, the blond boy is looking up, jaw hanging slack. A single tear drips down his face. Harry finds himself wanting to brush it away but Draco's never been a touchy person, so he doesn't.

Instead, he asks, far from eloquently, "What the hell is that? I didn't think the Aurora Borealis came over England that much, and isn't it purple?"

"That isn't the Aurora Borealis, Potter!" Draco snaps, sniffling back more tears. "That's the Dark Mark. It's Voldemort's mark!" Draco glares up at the writing snake with all his might, but he looks more like he's trying to hold back a sob.

Harry flinches back at the intensity of Draco's voice, the rage under the words. That's the first time he's said the name . . . ever.

There's the snap of burnt wood that sends both of their heads swiveling to the right. A singular person stands in the wreckage, a skinny man by stature, but his face is invisible in the shadow of a dark brown coat collar and spiky black hair.

"Who is that?" Harry whispers.

"I don't know and I don't care, let's just . . . go back to the woods." Draco's voice breaks. He's so close to breaking.

'You can't. Not in front of Harry. He doesn't want to see how weak you are. He needs strong people on his side, not boys who can't even bear to look their own fathers in the eye.'

"No. We can't. We should go after him, at least to see his face. We have to tell the ministry." Harry starts to jog away, but Draco pulls him back.

"Potter." He clears his throat, looking away for a second to secretly blink away the escaped tears. "You're drunk, you have no vision and no wand. And I . . . I'm so fucking done . . . with my father, with Death Eaters, with all of this. I don't want any part of any of it. I know I'm going to have hades to face when I get home, so just for now, just for one moment, one singular fucking moment, please let me have a bit of peace. You and your little friends can chase that man to Scotland, and France, and back in the morning, but right now . . . please, let's just stay here . . . . and safe." He doesn't mean to squeeze Harry's hand so hard, but at the moment, Harry doesn't mind.

'I didn't know he even knew any Muggle swears.'

"Yeah, okay. Let's stay."

-

So they stay, waiting in silence, but not for long

This time the footsteps are accompanied by clear voices, shouting directions, names with suffixes on the front, and titles.

"Mr. Crouch, sir, over here!"

Harry and Draco's eyes find each other immediately, widening in panic and relief respectively. The voices are far away now but they grow closer by the second. 

"Oh, thank Merlin. I thought we'd be stuck out here all night like heathens!"

"No, Malfoy, you've got to get out of here."

"Wh-" but his words falter as he realises what Harry means.

That man is probably long gone by now. He and Harry and the only ones out here. And according to everyone they know they hate each other, plus Harry's wand is missing. 

'I wouldn't even blame them. What are they supposed to think?' Drco droops at the thought of the house prejudice.

"Alright, but I'm not sure if I can disapparate again."

"Malfoy, of course you can! Just go!" Harry shoves him, and he does, vanishing into the air with a sad smile.

When Harry's sure he's gone, he steps out of the tent, only to be greeted by several thundering voices.

-

At mr. Weasly's instance, the crowd of aurous clears from around Harry and he's left to face Ron and Hermione.

"See, Mione, told you he was fine. If You-know-who can't kill him, I doubt a few of his cronies could."

"Oh, that's an awful thing to say, Ronald!" She smacks him lightly, then turns on Harry. "Harry! Oh my god! Where on earth have you been?! We couldn't find you anywhere!? I sent out a search party."

"'Mione, let him breathe!"

Hermione relents her crushing hug, "Sorry. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. I just, uh, went to sit somewhere quieter, you know, so I could focus on the game."

Hermione looks appropriately confused, but says no more, "Oh, alright?"

-

As the group makes the trek back, Harry hangs back, rolling his recovered wand between his fingers. He knows it wasn't Winky, but there's no way to prove otherwise.

'Madame Pomfrey said that broken bones can be healed in an instant, and there's no way Mr. Malfoy would hurt his son when he has a reputation to keep up. Malfoy is fine, of course, he is . . . Mr. Diggory seemed fine, I wonder how Cedric is.'

Suddenly a hand taps Harry's shoulder. "Here, you left these, mate."

Not knowing how to explain, Harry just takes the omnoculars from Ron's hand. 

"I know you weren't watching the game, but you know it's really none of my business so just don't scare Hermione like that again." Then he pauses, sniffing the air, "Bloody hell, Harry!" he drops to a whisper before anyone can hear, "Have you been drinking?"

Harry blanches, caught. "Erm, kind of. Dean and Seamus dared me to try something that I think was more alcohol than we thought."

'Please don't rat me out.' He knows Seamus has always been curious about alcohol and silently prays that if Ron ever asks they'll just assume that they forgot and say yes.

"Oh, well, how was it?" Ron has had whiskey before, but only a bit, on the sly in the three broomsticks.

"Gross, absolutely disgusting," Harry assures, ignoring the tinge of warmth still in his veins. As interesting as it felt, it's not something he's very eager to do again, as he feels a headache already developing. Or maybe that's from his foggy glasses, the cracks didn't fuse back together quite right.

"By the way, mate, I meant to ask before, but why is your hair green? Did Seamus do that?"

"Huh?" Harry remembers, sinking down with laughter while Ron looks on in confusion. "Oh, this, I don't even know. Some boy about Fred and George's age was going around and spelling people's hair Irish Colours for them, and, no offense mate, but I didn't want to be ginger, or have white hair like Malfoy, so I chose green." the lie comes easily. He's not sure hwo to feel about that.

-

Even while snores fill the attic bedroom, dreams of snakes keep Harry awake. 

Sighing, with one hand massaging his scar, he retrieves his glasses, examining the ever so slightly distorted lenses. 

Draco had done the charm silently, but Harry still remembers the first time Hermione had fixed his glasses.

Tentatively he holds them out, pointing his wand at them. "Oculus Reparo." The words are quiet in the air but there's a crack as the glasses are fully restored.

'I probably didn't do as good a job as Hermione could've but this is better than worrying her. Draco's arm will be long healed by September, so I can probably ask him later if I need to. I hope he's alright. Mr. Malfoy couldn't know what we did. I'm sure he's fine.'

—

In Malfoy Manor, Draco cries to himself, frowning in the foggy mirror. He didn't feel like showering, but it was a good way to delay his mother's fretting and his father's interrogation. His hair is still maroon, but he doesn't trust himself to use his wand in his right hand.

This is the worst day ever. The sporting event was spoiled, his father may be a Death Eater and the boy he loves might like someone else.

The room spins as if he's still apparating and he rushes to the sink to be sick. Pain crackles up his arm when he grabs the sink to steady himself.

Behind him, Minty, the family's new house elf, whimpers. Draco had told her to go, perhaps a bit rudely, but she refused, now she offers him a warm washcloth.

"Stop! You're not my mother!"

"I is sorry, young master, Minty only meant to help. Young master is hurt, it is my job to help."

Draco takes a shuddering breath, then takes the washcloth with his good hand, "I-I know that. Thank you, Minty, just keep Mother out. I need a moment."

". . . I cannot, sir, I cannot be disobeying an order from the Mistress Malfoy. I can tells her, sir, but if she would like to come in I will not being able to stop her. Good house elf do not get in her mistress way, and Minty is a good house elf" 

He sighs, "I know. Ugh, just tell her I'm in the bath."

"I cannot be lying, sir, lying is bad, and I am a good elf. Young master should not be lying to his mother either, sir."

"It's not a lie, I've just been waiting for you to leave, before I undress."

Minty squeaks. "Ah, yes, sir, I am sorry to be holding up your bath, I goes now! I goes now to tells the Mistress!"

-

When Draco leaves the bathroom, his mother is perched on his bed, still in her outing clothes, fidgeting with one of her pearl earrings. It's almost indistinguishable from the colour of her hair, which almost appears to cast a glow around the dark room.

"Draco, my darling, are you alright? Minty told me you were sick." She beckons him closer.

"Traitor," Draco mutters, moving to sit beside his mother

"No, I forced her. Please tell me what happened. You never came back to the tent and Amaryllis, and Aida said that you weren't with Pansy or Blaise."

Draco shakes his head, "No, I wasn't. I didn't want to see Harry, so I went down a few levels to watch by myself, then I went to find Pansy, Blaise, and Theo to tell them I was right about Ireland and then . . . the Death Eaters came."

Narcissa Black-Malfoy isn't stupid, and she knows her son better than anyone. "Draco, your father isn't home. He's at work, he won't be home until tomorrow. Were you with Harry? If that boy left you alone out there, I'll murder him myself."

"Mother, we are just friends, nothing more. That's all we'll ever be."

Narcissa Malfoy looks thoughtfully at her son, then tuts, buttoning his pyjama shirt and ruffling his hair. "That may be but friends don't leave each other and that boy is a Gryffindor if ever I've seen one, I know he stayed with you. So please, darling, tell me what happened."

Darco hesitates, stilling, but he can't contain himself any longer. He tells her. He tells her and tells her and tells her. He tells her everything, everything but his suspicions about his father.

'I've never lied to Mother before, not about something so big.'

And she holds him, holds him because her husband left her alone tonight as well. He left without a word and she doesn't know where he went and at the same time, she does. She knows he didn't leave at all. 

And they both cry. Draco sobbing loudly, and Narcissa's breath hitching quietly, the tears just refusing to fall because she's already shed so many in her lifetime.

'I thought this was done. I thought all of this was done. I lost Bella to that horrid man, I will not lose my husband as well.'

She clears her throat with determination, inhaling and exhaling the thoughts away, shifting so that she can see her son's face.  "There's shampoo still in your hair, let me wash it for you."

After a moment of hesitation, Draco nods, feeling four years old again. 'Why couldn't everything have stayed the same? I wish I never went to Hogwarts. I wish I never met Harry . . . I wish my father was dead.'

When he stands up, his stomach objects to the movements. Maybe it's the pain, maybe it's the alcohol, either way, he gets sick on the carpet. The sick smells distinctly of fire whiskey. Darco winces.

Narcissa sighs. Soundlessly, cleaning supplies float in and the mess disappears.

Draco braces for her scolding. "I'm sorry, Mum."

"It's alright, darling. It's alright." She whispers gently, picking him up as if he weren't nearly the same weight as her. The bathroom isn't far anyway.

(A/N: I have no idea average 14-year-old's body weight lmao)

-

She lays him on the counter. If setting him down brings relief, she gives no indication, her face calm as she sets the tap.

Draco sighs when the warm water hits his scalp.

"You need a haircut." his mother tuts sweetly.

Draco doesn't respond. There's nothing much to say.

Quieter this time she says, "I knew I should've taken you to France."

"It's alright," he says, trying not to let the strain show, though he knows he'll have to tell her soon if she hasn't already guessed.

"It's really not . . . Draco, would you . . . " Hesitation is a rare thing for Narcissa, so it catches her son's attention.

"Yes, Mum?"

"Would you like to transfer to Beauxbatons this year? Your grandfather is old friends with the headmistress and one of your distant cousins is already attending, it wouldn't be hard to get you in, even this close to start of term."

"What?"

"Would you like to?"

"What about all of my friends, Mum . . . what about Harry?"

"You don't have to if you really don't want to, and of course your father would rather you go to Durmstrang, and all I'm asking is that you think about what you've seen this summer and consider what you want."

"Mum? What's going on? Has something happened? What aren't you telling me? Does it have to do with what Father mentioned is happening at school this year?"

"No, darling, everything is fine." A small lie, "It's just that you're in fourth year now, you're 14, a young man. If you want to try something new, you should have the option."

And he does think. He thinks of all the secret meetings and tense whispers, of his father's possible involvement with the Death Eaters, and of Harry.

'I don't know for sure.' Another small lie.

"No. I'll stay at Hogwarts." 

'I couldn't leave Harry.'

Narcissa sees through him once again, "Draco, sometimes it's okay to think only of yourself and what will make you happy."

"Mother, if you want me at Beauxbatons, I can't stop you."

Narcissa shakes her head vigorously, still trying to maintain her calm, "No, of course not, it's your choice."

-

The two don't speak again for a while. Narcissa washes out the conditioner silently.

'The warm water must be thawing me out,' Draco thinks, 'because I don't feel numb anymore. I can feel my arm now, and it hurts.'

Draco winces, giving in to the pain.

Smiling gently, Narcissa helps him up, draping a towel over his shoulders.

"Let's fix this, hmm, darling?"

Darco nods.

Narcissa points her wand at her son's left arm, healing it in an instant.

-

Even when the ache is long gone, it feels like it remains, lingering on like a stubborn chest cold. Despite being in no physical pain, Draco Malfoy falls asleep crying.

In the bedroom down the hall, Narcissa Black-Malfoy stares out at the moon with determination. She will lose no one else to this damn Hilter-wannabe. 

'For someone who hates muggles, he acts an awful lot like one. Muggle or mage we are all human, I suppose it can't be helped. . . . Should I have told Draco about the tournament, that he'd be able to see Potter? Should I go ahead and send him anyway, before Lucuis attempts to use him as a tool to regain favour with a dead man, or at least until I know what's really going on. . . . I don't want to lose Luci, but I think if he gets involved in this again, I will, for good this time.'

"Oh, Bella, I wish you were here. Why did you have to lose yourself to that madman? Where is my sister when I need her, someone to look after and care for my son?" She asks the empty night.

'And even you Ande, your advice was always reasonable even when you went and did something stupid. So bravely marrying for love. It's so lucky that my love is a pureblood, I could have never bared to disappoint step-mum that way, I suppose that's because I knew I was already enough of a disappointment.'

For now, though, she will watch and wait. She's kept secrets before, she's done worse than that before. 

A roar goes up when Krum catches the snitch. The Irish fans cheer for the end of the game securing their already massive lead and the Bulgarian fans cheer to salvage what's left of their pride.

Harry's Ireland hat and jacket light up, shouting the names of the players in the announcer's voice. He and Draco cheer, not because they've really managed to enjoy the game through the threat of Death Eater's presence, but because cheering feels better than worrying.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye," Draco says solemnly, still not looking at Harry as the players exit the field, thunder made by thousands of clapping hands following them out.

"What?" It takes Harry a moment to understand, too caught up in the moment. "Oh, yeah." he looks down at his feet.

Neither of them wants to leave. Harry knows his friends are probably worried sick, and that he should probably go back to them, but he can't leave Draco knowing what he does now. If the Death Eaters truly are trying to make a resurgence and they're going after anyone who isn't pure blood, could Draco be on that list?

"Hey, you know, nothing has happened yet." Harry points out. Draco gives the barest hint of a smile. "If something was going to happen, it'd make sense to do it during the game, when no one's looking . . . so we could hang out?"

"Well, if you insist, Potter. I know I could certainly use a distraction." He gestures for Harry to follow him. Under the cover of his large Ireland hat, Harry follows Draco and descends down the stairs of the bright arena and into the night.

-

The Malfoy tent is empty, the only occupants being the twelve peacocks tethered outside. They hiss at Draco as he enters. Harry hesitates, but not for long before Draco drags him inside.

The tent is more of a house than a tent. 'If this is their tent, what must Malfoy's house look like?'

Harry's thoughts are interrupted with a loud, "Got it! Let's go!" as Draco emerges from the living room with a bottle of Firewhiskey.

"That looks expensive," Harry says warily. He may not be familiar with the ins and outs of wizard alcohol but he knows it looks a lot like what Uncle Vernon saved for special occasions.

"Oh, don't worry, Father's only been saving it for a couple of years."

'That sounds like something he'll get in big trouble for.' But the rebellious glint in Draco's eyes makes Harry go along with it.

-

The two tote the whiskey out to the forest and take turns sipping from the bottle. At first, they cough and splutter, but as the alcohol floods their systems and their taste buds dull, they acclimate to the fiery drink.

"I've actually never drank before, not really. No more than a sip of Mother's wine when she allowed it." Draco admits.

"That's still more than me, I haven't even really had more than one soft drink," Harry tells him.

In five minutes, they don't care how loud their laughter is, inhibitions lowered significantly. It feels as if somehow, they know each other better than they did this morning.

"Psst!" Draco flicks Harry's forehead, hissing way too loudly for how close they are. "Wanna do underage magic?"

"Hell yeah!"

It takes them longer than it should to rise to their feet, legs shaking like newborn calves, until the dizziness passes.

-

Jinxes fly between them, but they're both too unsteady to dodge too much, so they lie on their backs in the dirt, Harry with Slytherin green hair and Draco with Gryffindor Maroon. Quite a familiar shade actually, one Harry had seen just a few hours ago.

Harry looks over at the former blond and giggles. "You look pretty."

Draco blushes profusely. Harry giggles louder.

"Pretty like Cedric."

Draco's smile slips off his face at once. He glares, before remembering, 'He isn't mine. He never will be. I have to go before I do something I can't take back.'

"Yeah. like Cedric. I have to go. Father will be looking for me."

"Wha- Wait.' Harry slurs, throwing out an arm, but he's too dizzy to really get up and stop Draco, barely grasping his sleeve before Draco pulls away. "Please."

"Sorry," Draco mumbles over his shoulders. 'It's shitty, leaving him there like that but, I can't stand to look at his face, his lips, as he says things like that. He probably doesn't even mean it. Merlin, Draco. Get. It. Together!'

-

Draco doesn't make it far. Before he's cleared the treeline he hears a scream. It's coming from the campground but he runs back toward Harry on instinct.

"Harry!" he shouts the boy's name frantically. 'Is he still . . . did he go? What's happening?'

Suddenly something slams into him, sending him falling to the ground.

"What's all the screaming?" Harry asks, slightly breathless.

"I don't know, I came to ask you. I mean, no offense, Potter, but when there's trouble it tends to be your fault." His tone is bitter again, still not having forgiven Harry for his compliment of the Hufflepuff boy.

"Yeah, right, well, I swear I haven't got a fucking clue this time," Harry says, scowling, already making his way back out of the forest. He picked up on Draco's bitterness, of course he did. They know each other better than they think.

'What's he mad at me for? It's his father that's probably a Death Eater.'

Draco follows him, already regretting his words. 'He was drunk, I shouldn't have- He doesn't need to know.'

Sprinting back through the woods, they reach the treeline quickly. They step out into a campground, not like the one they saw this morning. This one is painted in flickering shades of red and orange.

Fire.

"Get down!" Harry hisses, yanking Draco to the ground as a stray spark ignites above them. Harry stands over Draco now, looking sobered and shaken. 

"Shite! It's the Death Eaters."

Draco leaps up, knocking Harry back. It's impulsive, but he has to know, he has to. Is his father among the masked terrorists?

"Malfoy, you idiot! What are you doing?" Harry scolds from the ground.

"I- I need to know." Draco's voice breaks. Harry understands.

"Yeah, well you can ask him later, for now, we've got to run. They're burning the campsite, we've got to do something."

Harry gets up, pulling Draco along until they reach another opening in the trees. He starts to reveal himself, but Draco yanks him back. Harry spins around, ready to shake his friend off but stops when he sees his face. So afraid. 

'I don't want to face them, Harry. I don't want to face my father.'

"Okay, then let's just try to find help."

Draco nods, mouth too dry to speak.

-

They don't find the Weasleys or Hermione, (which might be a good thing) but they do find the old woman from earlier, clutching her granddaughter. Draco casts a cloaking charm and the woman smiles before disapparating away.

But they've stayed in place for too long. 

The Death Eaters proceed at an even determined pace, so secure in the destruction they've created around them. They move with a strange determination, Harry notes. Draco must be rubbing off on him, he thinks, for him to become so observant. 'Determination to do what? Does that mean this isn't the worst of it?'

Hexes launch their way across the field, setting tents ablaze, and sending wizards and witches into various states of panic and discombobulation. A stray hex, an alarming shade of smoky purple heads straight for Harry. 

He doubts it was intentional, they couldn't have seen him from around the large tent, but it's going to hit him regardless. Between the tightly packed tents, there's nowhere to run.

He's still working out a plan when he hits the ground for what's got to be the fourth time today. He's been shoved into a random tent. It looks far from where they just were. How?

Harry rolls over, shaking his head. He feels woozy, and sitting up proves fruitless. If his hair was messy before it looks like he's been struck by lightning now. Instead of sitting up he moves tentatively to lay on his hip, propping himself up by the elbow. To his relief, the nausea and starts in his vision fade. 

Draco sits cross-legged beside him, his hair mused nearly as much as Harry's and his left arm hanging over his thigh at an obtuse angle. He examines it with narrowed eyes, sucking in a quiet breath as he flexes his fingers.

(A/N: Pushing my left-handed Draco agenda. Why? So he and Harry can hold hands under their desks, of course. Also, left-handed people are cool.)

He looks at the newly-woken Harry, putting effort into a small smile that looks more like a grimace. "Welcome to the land of the living, Potter. I'm not the smoothest at this yet, so the arrival knocked you out."

"What arrival, where?" Harry scrambles up, in panic mode, feeling hurriedly around for his glasses in case he needs to leave quickly. 

'We're in a house?' Harry wonders. The space around them is charmingly decorated, reminding them of the few pictures Hermione had shown them of her house.

"I didn't get us far, just to a tent a few metres away, but-" He notices Harry's search. And with an awkward gesture, places the glasses on Harry's lap. "Here, I could've done better, but my wand hand is my left."

Draco doesn't know why he says that, of course, Harry knows which hand he uses his wand in.

"It's fine. What happened?"

"Perhaps I did a worse job on your glasses than I thought. It's broken, obviously, Potter. I'm not sure if it was the jinx, or if I did it wrong. I've only done this by myself once before." Draco sounds a bit stressed.

Harry shakes his head, getting a bit annoyed, "Did what, Malfoy?"

Draco blinks, the smallest of signs revealing the frazzle beneath his calm, "I disapparated us, Potter."

"App- but you're 14. I thought . . .?"

"Anyone over the age of ten can do it with practice, and my mother's been teaching me over the summer, but I didn't mean to, not this time. I just panicked and it happened, okay. I'm sorry. I know it's lucky neither of us got splinched." He looks upset with himself.

'I could've hurt Harry, but what else could I have done?'

The way Draco winces on the word keeps Harry from asking what splinching is.

'I think he thinks I know way more about this than I do.'

"Don't be sorry, you probably saved my life, again."

Draco pretends not to hear him, turning away to hide his blush. "We should go, they're bound to burn this row any minute now." Without another word, not even a huff of pain, Draco continues moving, pushing himself up with his right hand, a bitter glare in his eyes.

'He's nothing like he was last year with Buckbeak. He hasn't cried at all. Is he in shock? . . . Or did something happen over summer holiday to make him used to pain like this? The way Mr. Malfoy looked at him earlier, does he always look at him like that? Does he do worse? . . . What am I thinking, he's the spoiled one between us. But he's still brave, smirk, and bear it brave. Slytherin is brave. '

Still a little dazed from the amature dissparation, not expecting Draco's quick pace, Harry's "Yeah." is belated and he struggles to his feet, feeling the alcohol as he tries to keep up with Draco.

When he only stumbles again, this time into Draco, the blond turns around. "Merlin, Potter, I'm right here, if you need help just ask for it." 

Harry looks down embarrassed. Internally Draco panics, but there's no taking the phrasing back now. Luckily for him, he hasn't rubbed off on Harry that much, The Chosen One is still decidedly dense.

Harry shakes his head, straightening up from where he'd been leaning against Draco. "Yeah, sorry. I shouldn't have drank so mu-"

"It's fine, forget that now. We'll be lucky if that's what we get punished for tonight. In fact, I hope it's the ministry that finds us." The "not my father" goes unsaid but not unheard even to Harry's slightly ringing ears, "And I take back what I said earlier Potter, Expelliarmus is just as good as any other spell. If we get caught, give it all you've got."

"Oh, ha, ha, ha, Malfoy, that's really funn-" Harry's voice dies mid-sentence. "Malfoy," he tries not to panic, "did you take my wand when I passed out?"

"What, no? Why would I? You never take another wizard's wand without permission, surely even you know that."

"So you didn't?"

"No . . . Oh, Merlin, Potter . . . don't tell me you've lost it." Darco's face says he's so so tired of this, of everything that's happened tonight.

"Hey! I haven't lost it, I swear I put it in my pocket earlier."

"Well it's not there now, is it?"

"No." Harry sags in defeat, "It must have fallen out when I fell or when you apparated us or something."

Both boys ignore the possibility that it was taken and the much bigger problem: If Harry doesn't have his wand, then who does?

But they haven't got time to worry about that now.

"Okay, let's just, uh," Draco hesitates, groaning and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Retrace our steps and look for it. The woods are probably safer anyway. The Death Eaters can't linger long, I'm sure Aurors are already on their way. If the worst happens we'll stay in the woods until the ministry comes in the morning to check the scene."

Harry nods, relieved that the ringing has stopped, "Yeah. Let's go." 

Ever the Gryffindor, he wants to lead, but knows it's probably better to let Draco do it.

'He doesn't seem to be teasing me for it, so that's nice. But I mean this is hardly a funny situation. He's more mature than I thought, when did that happen?'

But Draco stops him mid-step. He pats the tent flap away, wiping his glasses with his sleeve to make sure what he's seeing is right. The campground has been decimated, turned in under an hour from a place teeming with celebration to a blurry brown mass. Ash coats the ground like thick winter snow and dances through the air, providing the accompanying snowflakes. There's more ash than there should be, probably because most tents were far larger on the inside. Even the grand Malfoy family tent is nowhere to be seen. 

'Did Mr. Malfoy pack it up at the last second, or did he burn it too?'

But when Harry looks at Draco, the blond boy is looking up, jaw hanging slack. A single tear drips down his face. Harry finds himself wanting to brush it away but Draco's never been a touchy person, so he doesn't.

Instead, he asks, far from eloquently, "What the hell is that? I didn't think the Aurora Borealis came over England that much, and isn't it purple?"

"That isn't the Aurora Borealis, Potter!" Draco snaps, sniffling back more tears. "That's the Dark Mark. It's Voldemort's mark!" Draco glares up at the writing snake with all his might, but he looks more like he's trying to hold back a sob.

Harry flinches back at the intensity of Draco's voice, the rage under the words. That's the first time he's said the name . . . ever.

There's the snap of burnt wood that sends both of their heads swiveling to the right. A singular person stands in the wreckage, a skinny man by stature, but his face is invisible in the shadow of a dark brown coat collar and spiky black hair.

"Who is that?" Harry whispers.

"I don't know and I don't care, let's just . . . go back to the woods." Draco's voice breaks. He's so close to breaking.

'You can't. Not in front of Harry. He doesn't want to see how weak you are. He needs strong people on his side, not boys who can't even bear to look their own fathers in the eye.'

"No. We can't. We should go after him, at least to see his face. We have to tell the ministry." Harry starts to jog away, but Draco pulls him back.

"Potter." He clears his throat, looking away for a second to secretly blink away the escaped tears. "You're drunk, you have no vision and no wand. And I . . . I'm so fucking done . . . with my father, with Death Eaters, with all of this. I don't want any part of any of it. I know I'm going to have hades to face when I get home, so just for now, just for one moment, one singular fucking moment, please let me have a bit of peace. You and your little friends can chase that man to Scotland, and France, and back in the morning, but right now . . . please, let's just stay here . . . . and safe." He doesn't mean to squeeze Harry's hand so hard, but at the moment, Harry doesn't mind.

'I didn't know he even knew any Muggle swears.'

"Yeah, okay. Let's stay."

-

So they stay, waiting in silence, but not for long

This time the footsteps are accompanied by clear voices, shouting directions, names with suffixes on the front, and titles.

"Mr. Crouch, sir, over here!"

Harry and Draco's eyes find each other immediately, widening in panic and relief respectively. The voices are far away now but they grow closer by the second. 

"Oh, thank Merlin. I thought we'd be stuck out here all night like heathens!"

"No, Malfoy, you've got to get out of here."

"Wh-" but his words falter as he realises what Harry means.

That man is probably long gone by now. He and Harry and the only ones out here. And according to everyone they know they hate each other, plus Harry's wand is missing. 

'I wouldn't even blame them. What are they supposed to think?' Drco droops at the thought of the house prejudice.

"Alright, but I'm not sure if I can disapparate again."

"Malfoy, of course you can! Just go!" Harry shoves him, and he does, vanishing into the air with a sad smile.

When Harry's sure he's gone, he steps out of the tent, only to be greeted by several thundering voices.

-

At mr. Weasly's instance, the crowd of aurous clears from around Harry and he's left to face Ron and Hermione.

"See, Mione, told you he was fine. If You-know-who can't kill him, I doubt a few of his cronies could."

"Oh, that's an awful thing to say, Ronald!" She smacks him lightly, then turns on Harry. "Harry! Oh my god! Where on earth have you been?! We couldn't find you anywhere!? I sent out a search party."

"'Mione, let him breathe!"

Hermione relents her crushing hug, "Sorry. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. I just, uh, went to sit somewhere quieter, you know, so I could focus on the game."

Hermione looks appropriately confused, but says no more, "Oh, alright?"

-

As the group makes the trek back, Harry hangs back, rolling his recovered wand between his fingers. He knows it wasn't Winky, but there's no way to prove otherwise.

'Madame Pomfrey said that broken bones can be healed in an instant, and there's no way Mr. Malfoy would hurt his son when he has a reputation to keep up. Malfoy is fine, of course, he is . . . Mr. Diggory seemed fine, I wonder how Cedric is.'

Suddenly a hand taps Harry's shoulder. "Here, you left these, mate."

Not knowing how to explain, Harry just takes the omnoculars from Ron's hand. 

"I know you weren't watching the game, but you know it's really none of my business so just don't scare Hermione like that again." Then he pauses, sniffing the air, "Bloody hell, Harry!" he drops to a whisper before anyone can hear, "Have you been drinking?"

Harry blanches, caught. "Erm, kind of. Dean and Seamus dared me to try something that I think was more alcohol than we thought."

'Please don't rat me out.' He knows Seamus has always been curious about alcohol and silently prays that if Ron ever asks they'll just assume that they forgot and say yes.

"Oh, well, how was it?" Ron has had whiskey before, but only a bit, on the sly in the three broomsticks.

"Gross, absolutely disgusting," Harry assures, ignoring the tinge of warmth still in his veins. As interesting as it felt, it's not something he's very eager to do again, as he feels a headache already developing. Or maybe that's from his foggy glasses, the cracks didn't fuse back together quite right.

"By the way, mate, I meant to ask before, but why is your hair green? Did Seamus do that?"

"Huh?" Harry remembers, sinking down with laughter while Ron looks on in confusion. "Oh, this, I don't even know. Some boy about Fred and George's age was going around and spelling people's hair Irish Colours for them, and, no offense mate, but I didn't want to be ginger, or have white hair like Malfoy, so I chose green." the lie comes easily. He's not sure hwo to feel about that.

-

Even while snores fill the attic bedroom, dreams of snakes keep Harry awake. 

Sighing, with one hand massaging his scar, he retrieves his glasses, examining the ever so slightly distorted lenses. 

Draco had done the charm silently, but Harry still remembers the first time Hermione had fixed his glasses.

Tentatively he holds them out, pointing his wand at them. "Oculus Reparo." The words are quiet in the air but there's a crack as the glasses are fully restored.

'I probably didn't do as good a job as Hermione could've but this is better than worrying her. Draco's arm will be long healed by September, so I can probably ask him later if I need to. I hope he's alright. Mr. Malfoy couldn't know what we did. I'm sure he's fine.'

—

In Malfoy Manor, Draco cries to himself, frowning in the foggy mirror. He didn't feel like showering, but it was a good way to delay his mother's fretting and his father's interrogation. His hair is still maroon, but he doesn't trust himself to use his wand in his right hand.

This is the worst day ever. The sporting event was spoiled, his father may be a Death Eater and the boy he loves might like someone else.

The room spins as if he's still apparating and he rushes to the sink to be sick. Pain crackles up his arm when he grabs the sink to steady himself.

Behind him, Minty, the family's new house elf, whimpers. Draco had told her to go, perhaps a bit rudely, but she refused, now she offers him a warm washcloth.

"Stop! You're not my mother!"

"I is sorry, young master, Minty only meant to help. Young master is hurt, it is my job to help."

Draco takes a shuddering breath, then takes the washcloth with his good hand, "I-I know that. Thank you, Minty, just keep Mother out. I need a moment."

". . . I cannot, sir, I cannot be disobeying an order from the Mistress Malfoy. I can tells her, sir, but if she would like to come in I will not being able to stop her. Good house elf do not get in her mistress way, and Minty is a good house elf" 

He sighs, "I know. Ugh, just tell her I'm in the bath."

"I cannot be lying, sir, lying is bad, and I am a good elf. Young master should not be lying to his mother either, sir."

"It's not a lie, I've just been waiting for you to leave, before I undress."

Minty squeaks. "Ah, yes, sir, I am sorry to be holding up your bath, I goes now! I goes now to tells the Mistress!"

-

When Draco leaves the bathroom, his mother is perched on his bed, still in her outing clothes, fidgeting with one of her pearl earrings. It's almost indistinguishable from the colour of her hair, which almost appears to cast a glow around the dark room.

"Draco, my darling, are you alright? Minty told me you were sick." She beckons him closer.

"Traitor," Draco mutters, moving to sit beside his mother

"No, I forced her. Please tell me what happened. You never came back to the tent and Amaryllis, and Aida said that you weren't with Pansy or Blaise."

Draco shakes his head, "No, I wasn't. I didn't want to see Harry, so I went down a few levels to watch by myself, then I went to find Pansy, Blaise, and Theo to tell them I was right about Ireland and then . . . the Death Eaters came."

Narcissa Black-Malfoy isn't stupid, and she knows her son better than anyone. "Draco, your father isn't home. He's at work, he won't be home until tomorrow. Were you with Harry? If that boy left you alone out there, I'll murder him myself."

"Mother, we are just friends, nothing more. That's all we'll ever be."

Narcissa Malfoy looks thoughtfully at her son, then tuts, buttoning his pyjama shirt and ruffling his hair. "That may be but friends don't leave each other and that boy is a Gryffindor if ever I've seen one, I know he stayed with you. So please, darling, tell me what happened."

Darco hesitates, stilling, but he can't contain himself any longer. He tells her. He tells her and tells her and tells her. He tells her everything, everything but his suspicions about his father.

'I've never lied to Mother before, not about something so big.'

And she holds him, holds him because her husband left her alone tonight as well. He left without a word and she doesn't know where he went and at the same time, she does. She knows he didn't leave at all. 

And they both cry. Draco sobbing loudly, and Narcissa's breath hitching quietly, the tears just refusing to fall because she's already shed so many in her lifetime.

'I thought this was done. I thought all of this was done. I lost Bella to that horrid man, I will not lose my husband as well.'

She clears her throat with determination, inhaling and exhaling the thoughts away, shifting so that she can see her son's face.  "There's shampoo still in your hair, let me wash it for you."

After a moment of hesitation, Draco nods, feeling four years old again. 'Why couldn't everything have stayed the same? I wish I never went to Hogwarts. I wish I never met Harry . . . I wish my father was dead.'

When he stands up, his stomach objects to the movements. Maybe it's the pain, maybe it's the alcohol, either way, he gets sick on the carpet. The sick smells distinctly of fire whiskey. Darco winces.

Narcissa sighs. Soundlessly, cleaning supplies float in and the mess disappears.

Draco braces for her scolding. "I'm sorry, Mum."

"It's alright, darling. It's alright." She whispers gently, picking him up as if he weren't nearly the same weight as her. The bathroom isn't far anyway.

(A/N: I have no idea average 14-year-old's body weight lmao)

-

She lays him on the counter. If setting him down brings relief, she gives no indication, her face calm as she sets the tap.

Draco sighs when the warm water hits his scalp.

"You need a haircut." his mother tuts sweetly.

Draco doesn't respond. There's nothing much to say.

Quieter this time she says, "I knew I should've taken you to France."

"It's alright," he says, trying not to let the strain show, though he knows he'll have to tell her soon if she hasn't already guessed.

"It's really not . . . Draco, would you . . . " Hesitation is a rare thing for Narcissa, so it catches her son's attention.

"Yes, Mum?"

"Would you like to transfer to Beauxbatons this year? Your grandfather is old friends with the headmistress and one of your distant cousins is already attending, it wouldn't be hard to get you in, even this close to start of term."

"What?"

"Would you like to?"

"What about all of my friends, Mum . . . what about Harry?"

"You don't have to if you really don't want to, and of course your father would rather you go to Durmstrang, and all I'm asking is that you think about what you've seen this summer and consider what you want."

"Mum? What's going on? Has something happened? What aren't you telling me? Does it have to do with what Father mentioned is happening at school this year?"

"No, darling, everything is fine." A small lie, "It's just that you're in fourth year now, you're 14, a young man. If you want to try something new, you should have the option."

And he does think. He thinks of all the secret meetings and tense whispers, of his father's possible involvement with the Death Eaters, and of Harry.

'I don't know for sure.' Another small lie.

"No. I'll stay at Hogwarts." 

'I couldn't leave Harry.'

Narcissa sees through him once again, "Draco, sometimes it's okay to think only of yourself and what will make you happy."

"Mother, if you want me at Beauxbatons, I can't stop you."

Narcissa shakes her head vigorously, still trying to maintain her calm, "No, of course not, it's your choice."

-

The two don't speak again for a while. Narcissa washes out the conditioner silently.

'The warm water must be thawing me out,' Draco thinks, 'because I don't feel numb anymore. I can feel my arm now, and it hurts.'

Draco winces, giving in to the pain.

Smiling gently, Narcissa helps him up, draping a towel over his shoulders.

"Let's fix this, hmm, darling?"

Darco nods.

Narcissa points her wand at her son's left arm, healing it in an instant.

-

Even when the ache is long gone, it feels like it remains, lingering on like a stubborn chest cold. Despite being in no physical pain, Draco Malfoy falls asleep crying.

In the bedroom down the hall, Narcissa Black-Malfoy stares out at the moon with determination. She will lose no one else to this damn Hilter-wannabe. 

'For someone who hates muggles, he acts an awful lot like one. Muggle or mage we are all human, I suppose it can't be helped. . . . Should I have told Draco about the tournament, that he'd be able to see Potter? Should I go ahead and send him anyway, before Lucuis attempts to use him as a tool to regain favour with a dead man, or at least until I know what's really going on. . . . I don't want to lose Luci, but I think if he gets involved in this again, I will, for good this time.'

"Oh, Bella, I wish you were here. Why did you have to lose yourself to that madman? Where is my sister when I need her, someone to look after and care for my son?" She asks the empty night.

'And even you Ande, your advice was always reasonable even when you went and did something stupid. So bravely marrying for love. It's so lucky that my love is a pureblood, I could have never bared to disappoint step-mum that way, I suppose that's because I knew I was already enough of a disappointment.'

For now, though, she will watch and wait. She's kept secrets before, she's done worse than that before. 

[thebunnyremix]

You should tell us about a thing you like

Hmmm…what’s a thing I like that I wanna gush about for a few…there’s so many things I like that I can ramble on about for literal hours…

Oh, I know! Let me talk about Legend, an 80's fantasy film directed by Ridley Scott, and featuring Tim Curry at his finest.

Along with Willow, this dark and glittery film pretty much set my standards for the fantasy genre.

Truth be told, it scared the crap out of me as a kid. (Then again, i frightened easily at that age.) Child me could not handle the goblins and the amazing practical effects that brought them to life. They don't bother me now, but I couldn't even look at them as a kid. They creeped me out.

Anyway, I saw this movie as a kid because my sister had a horse obsession and she couldn't get enough of the unicorns. And who could blame her? I mean, damn. Look at them.

This is Jurassic Park level of amazing special effects. I'm still not convinced those weren't real unicorns Ridley Scott somehow smuggled on set. (Just like Spielberg totally smuggled real dinosaurs on set. Fight me.) Also, they make whale noises for some reason. I dunno why, but I like it. It's cool and adds to how ethereal they are.

The story revolves around Princess Lili and her forest-dwelling boyfriend, Jack. The Lord of Darkness wants to kill the unicorns, and use their horns to reshape the world more to his liking. So, he sends a trio of goblins to hunt the unicorns down.

Real talk? The makeup job on the goblins still holds up. I love their designs.

Anyway, Jack wants to show Lili the unicorns, which happen to be passing through. Lili unwittingly becomes the perfect bait to lure in the unicorns into a false sense of security when she can't resist petting one.

This leads to the goblins darting one of the unicorns, cornering him once he collapses, and cutting off his horn, sending the world spiraling into an eternal winter, and thus leaving his mate the last of their kind. Guilt-ridden, Lili sets out to make things right, while Jack bands together with his forest brethren to go after the Lord of Darkness...who now has the hots for Lili and has her captured along with the remaining unicorn.

And just when you think this can't get any more weird, we get a creepy, yet sexy dress dance.

Child me did not know why I liked this scene so much. Adult me knows why, though.

Now, there are two versions of this film. The director's cut, which is generally considered to be the better version, as it's more organized and has all the cut scenes intact. I grew up seeing the theatrical cut, which has a slightly more jumbled plot due to cut scenes and other meddling.

If the theatrical cut has any redeeming quality in my opinion, it's the soundtrack by Tangerine Dream. It's so...captivating. Just listen.

God, I just...I love the pretty noises so much...

But, there you go. That's a thing I like. 😁

To me, Legend is basically the movie equivalent of comfort food. But let me tell ya, if you like a good 80's aesthetic, the fantasy genre, and anything with Tim Curry, I recommend giving it a watch. Maybe watch both versions too. Decide which you like better. (Spoiler: The director's cut is better story-wise. But the theatrical cut has better music. Fight me.)

[mypoisonedvine]

artificial scarcity || (soft)dark!Jake Jensen x reader

summary: you'll realize how good he can treat you, how badly you need him, one way or another. you just need a little encouragement, that's all.

word count: 4k, somehow...

warnings: smut! (dubcon; she is fully consenting but under dubious circumstances), drugging (technically), kidnapping, imprisonment, starvation, touch-starved reader, bed sharing, grinding/thigh fucking, size kink, spanking, implied stalking/voyeurism, implied noncon (kinda?), jake being possessive and manipulative and creepy

a/n: this was supposed to be a drabble which is why the pacing might feel a little rushed in the beginning but I hope you guys don’t mind!

Jake was normally a relatively patient guy, especially with you since he had an obvious soft spot for the newest member of the team.  But after months of trying to get your attention, of his abysmal flirting not getting him anywhere, of you becoming more and more comfortable with the idea of him as a friend and nothing else, his patience was running thin.

He was tired of waiting for the perfect opportunity to rescue you and show you that he was the perfect guy for you.  He was tired of waiting for you to figure out that he could be everything you needed if you just let him.  So, he figured he needed to manufacture a chance to save you; he needed to take away some things just to bring them back, show you what it was like to let him take care of you.

Getting close to you was easy, you were teammates and friends so you trusted him.  The tricky thing was he didn't want you to know it was him, so he used your trust to lure you right into his trap.

Movie night tonight? There’s some cheesy slasher playing at the drive in at 1930, he texted you as soon as he could to the showtime to decrease the odds of you having any time to tell anyone about your plans to meet up with him; he’d rather not have the heat of being the last person to see you before your disappearance.

yeah sure!  are you driving? you replied almost instantly.

Yep, I’ll pick you up at S Lamar and Hanover in 10, he informed you, knowing it was close to your apartment but far away from any security cameras or likely witnesses.

He parked a block away and walked around the corner to see you standing there under the flickering streetlight looking at your phone.  You were waiting for him, and as he hid behind cover to come closer, you were clearly looking around for where he might be.  Thankfully, you didn't see him or his tranq gun, and he got your neck on the first shot.

He ran to catch you before you fell, relishing the weight of your body limp and pliant in his arms.  Somehow, he resisted the urge to play with you now, knowing it would be worth the wait to let his whole plan come to fruition.

//

The room he locked you in was dark and damp, barely any light but enough to see the half-full water bottle he left for you; your chain was short but you could reach everything you needed.  It broke his heart to hear your cries but he had to ignore them, if he came in now it wouldn't make sense.  He needed to be patient.

When the video feed from his camera inside showed that you'd fallen asleep for the night, he snuck in to bring you a new water bottle and a little granola bar since you'd screamed all day about being hungry.  You seem surprised when you woke up and saw it, quickly grabbing the bar but taking a long time to examine and smell it first before eating, like you were afraid it was poisoned.  But you ate, and drank your water, and waited for rescue.

Day 3 was the hardest to watch.  You tugged at your chain so much that he worried you'd hurt yourself.  He decided tomorrow was the last day because he couldn't take any more of this.

On the fourth day, he waited until you started to cry yourself to sleep before shutting down his equipment and finally coming to the door; he took a deep breath, preparing himself, before dramatically kicking it down and gasping when he saw you.  He called your name into the dark and you barely had the energy to open your eyes, poor thing.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" he yelped, dashing over to where you were chained and picking at the lock.  "I'm gonna get you out, don't worry, you're safe now."

"Jensen...?" you mumbled sleepily, making him smile and stroke your face a little.  

"Yeah, I'm right here."

//

He carried you to his car and drove you home-- not your old home, your new one which also happened to be his apartment.

"I think it's time to wake up, I'm guessing you wanna take a shower," he cooed at your sleeping form, watching you stir in his arms before finally blinking your eyes open and looking up at him.

"Oh," you whispered.  "Did I fall asleep?"

"Yes," he laughed, "you've been out the whole ride here."

"Oh…” you repeated, “and where are we?"

"My apartment.  I didn't want to leave you alone right now."

You nodded, seemingly in agreement.  "You can put me down now."

He reluctantly did as you'd asked, watching you carefully put weight back on your legs.

"Woah!" he chuckled when you wobbled a bit, reaching out to catch you, but you recovered.

"Thank you," you whispered, and he smiled at you.

"Just wish I'd found you sooner.”

"Um, you said I can take a shower?"

"Yeah, down that hall, first door on the right.  I'll bring you some clothes,” he explained, and you smiled weakly before navigating your way to the bathroom.

//

You looked so good in his clothes that his heart skipped a beat when he saw you step out into the living room.  The t-shirt that was almost too tight on him was baggy on you, reminding him of how delicate you were in so many ways, how much bigger he was than you.

It reminded him that if he really wanted to, he could force himself on you and you'd be helpless to stop him.  But that wasn't what he wanted.  It was going to be so much better this way.

"Wanna go to bed now?  I'll take the couch," he offered.

"N-no," you stammered, and he gave you a quizzical look.  "I don't… I don't want you that far away."

"Okay, I could sleep on the floor," he bargained instead, "in my room, with you."

"No," you sighed again, "then I won't be able to see you."

"I'll be right there," he reminded you.

"It's a king, right?  You can share with me."

"Are you sure?" he pressed.  "I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"No, please, this is the only way I'll be comfortable."

"Okay," he smiled, guiding you to the bedroom.  He let you watch him take off his shirt and smirked a little when he saw you ogling.

"I usually just sleep in boxers," he admitted nervously.  "I'll put on some pajama pants at least."

"It's fine, really," you smiled.  "I don't wanna be any more of a burden than I already am."

"You're not a burden."

"And I'm not gonna wear pants to bed anyways," you shrugged.

"O-oh."

But he hadn't given you a new pair of panties to wear because he didn't have any to give you.  Which meant that if you took off the sweats he'd given you, that'd leave you in his shirt and nothing else.

He tried not to let that thought go straight to his cock as he unbuttoned and pushed down his pants, seeing you conflicted on where to look, before getting in bed.  You did the same, taking the sweats off once you were under the covers and tossing them out from under the blanket.

"Goodnight," he smiled as he turned off the lamp, hearing you whisper it back before starting to shift around and get comfortable.

He didn't have to wait nearly as long as he had expected to hear you meekly whisper, "Jensen?"

"Yeah, is everything alright?" he asked, voice full of concern.

"I… I don't want to ask you for anything else…" you sighed.

"No, hey, it's okay," he assured, "ask for anything."

"Would you, um, would you hold me?" 

He cleared his throat a little.  "If you need me to."

"Please, it's the only way I'll be able to sleep."

He sighed a little but relented, coming over to your side of the bed and spooning you, gingerly laying one arm over you and trying to avoid touching you anywhere too personal.

"Thank you," you sighed sleepily.

"Whatever you need,” he assured.

"Jake, why are you doing all this for me?" you asked quietly, turning back a little to look at him.

"You're my teammate, nobody gets left behind,” he explained.  “Besides, this is all my fault anyways.  You were waiting for me when they got you."

"No, Jake, don't say that.  It's not your fault."

"Alright, but it's not yours either.  You didn't deserve that."

“You’re right, but I don’t deserve this either,” you mumbled.

“Yes, you do.”

You shifted slightly against him, humming contentedly, and he groaned.

"I think maybe we should stop," he hissed, pulling away— but you stopped him by grabbing his arm.

"No, wait," you whimpered.  "Why?  What’s wrong?"

"I, uh, I guess I'm just experiencing some of the consequences of laying in bed with a beautiful woman…"

"Huh?"

"The, um, the biological consequences."

"I— oh,” you whispered.

"Yeahhh...” he trailed off awkwardly.

"No, hey, it's okay.  I don't mind, I mean, you can't help it,” you shrugged.

"Sorry, I'm not normally this easily amused but it's been a while, so…"

"I understand," you assured, "really, it's okay… just don't go."

He just barely heard your gasp as he pressed himself against you, his shaft cradled perfectly between each soft globe of your ass.  "Is this okay?" he asked quietly.

"Y-yeah," you answered, making him suppress a laugh since it was obvious you were noticing his size.  He would bet a grand at least that you were getting wet right now, if he had anyone to bet against.

Your back arched a little, pushing your ass into him with more force, and you actually started to rock your hips ever so slightly.

"Stop moving," he hissed through his teeth.  

"I'm not…" you denied weakly.

"Yes you are, you're… rubbing yourself on me."

"I'm sorry, it just feels good,” you admitted sleepily, surprising him with your forwardness.  “You like it too, right?"

"Yes, but I feel like I'm taking advantage of you,” he admitted worriedly.

"You're not,” you promised, “you did so much for me— you saved me— and I want to help you, too.  You said it's been a while since you were with anybody, I could help you out… you know, you could rub up against me until you…"

He groaned a little but leaned in closer until his lips were right against your ear.  "Are you sure?  Don't do me any favors, you don't owe me anything."

"I want you to," you assured, making him smile and nod a bit, taking a moment to enjoy a deep breath as he prepared himself.

Carefully, he began to rock his hips forward, rubbing his cock on you through his boxers.  Even with a layer of cotton in the way he could feel your warmth, he could imagine how smooth your skin was.  If you hadn't been able to make out the shape of him before, you certainly could now— the ridge of his head was probably digging into you, and on particularly long thrusts he could feel your ass against his balls (which, inversely, meant you could feel his balls against your ass).

He held your hips as he picked up his pace a bit, grinding into you and breathing heavily in your ear.  You gasped and tried to hide a moan by biting your lip but he heard it.  It was even more obvious when he whispered your name to you, heavy with desire, and rubbed your spine with his finger.  Your back arched even further, inviting him to push harder against you until he felt the slightest wet patch forming on his boxers— not from him, from you.  It made his cock throb and his breath catch in his throat.

Overcome with need, he pushed his boxers down quickly before getting back to it, both of you moaning at the feeling of his skin on yours.  He was so close to your pussy he could hardly stand it, and he knew you must be dripping right now, desperate to be filled.  He could probably slip right in and you wouldn't even stop him, but that wasn't what he needed from you right now.  You needed to ask him for it.  He knew you wanted it, but he needed you to know you wanted it.

A drop of precum formed at his slit, smearing onto your skin and easing his way further.  

"I want you to feel good, too," he whispered.  "I don't just want to use you."

He pushed his cock down and slipped it between your thighs instead, sliding right against your wet, silky folds.  You whined beautifully as he thrusted forward, your thighs clenching (and therefore gripping him even tighter) when his cock slid right over your clit.

Your wetness was plentiful enough to drench him just from this, so he already knew the answer but he still asked, "does it feel good?"

"Yes," you sighed.  "Yes, it's good…"

He knew he could make you come like this, and he knew exactly how to, but that wouldn't get him what he wanted.  Instead he only gave you enough to keep you on the edge, moving too slow to really let you finish.  You even tried to move faster but his grip on your hips was too tight, keeping you still so he could savor his own pace and keep you desperate.

"Fuck me," you moaned.  

"I don't have a condom," he whispered nervously.

"I don't care, just please…"

That was all the encouragement he needed, pulling back enough to guide his head to your entrance before sliding right in.  Your wet, hot walls stretched open to accept him, struggling against his girth but eventually giving way.

Your hand shot back to grab onto his thigh, trying to keep him from going too deep, but he had no intentions of holding back now that he was inside you; he delicately grabbed your wrist and guided your hand back to your chest where he wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly.

"Baby," he moaned into your ear as his hips met yours.  "This is my pussy now."

You gasped and shivered in his arms, eyes falling shut as he pulled back and pushed in again, incredibly slow but as deep as he could push himself.

Your moans were perfect, even better than the ones he'd heard when he hacked into your webcam because it wasn't just your fingers or toy anymore, it was him— exactly what you'd always needed, whether you knew it or not.  He'd dreamed of this for so long and now that he had you he couldn't imagine ever letting you go.  Every inch of your channel was like heaven, every moan was somehow more beautiful than the last.

"That's it, baby, take all of me," he purred when he pressed deep into your cunt, holding your hips so the tip of his cock hit the deepest parts of you.  You made the cutest little choking noise and he kissed your neck while trying his best to make you do it again, moving faster and slapping his hips against yours more firmly.

"Jake," you managed to whimper, and he groaned through his teeth.

"Yeah, I'm right here," he promised.  "That's me inside you, sweetheart, that's my cock filling you up."

He leaned back slightly and pulled your ass apart so he could see his cock stretching you out, disappearing into your body.  It made his head fall back for a moment before he pulled you close again and started thrusting faster.  He reached around and brought two fingers to your clit, rubbing it fiercely as he kept thrusting.

"Oh fuck," you moaned, "Jake, right there… I'm gonna come…"

He laughed a little, kissing your ear as a show of approval.  "Baby, you're so sensitive," he praised, giving your clit a little spank.  You cried out and shuddered, bouncing yourself back on his cock, meeting his thrusts.  Amused by your neediness, he stopped moving and watched you go.

"There you go, sweetheart, fuck yourself with my cock.  Make yourself come."

You whined and kept going, your ass slapping against his hips loudly.  He kept rubbing your clit as you worked his cock, your walls starting to clench down on him rhythmically and your body beginning to shake.

The absolute second he heard you cry out with pleasure as you reached the peak, he grabbed you and rolled both of you over until you were on your stomach and he was brutally fucking you into the mattress.  He could still feel you pulsing around his length, gripping him tight and pulling him deeper.

"That's it, keep fuckin' coming for me," he groaned.  "Gimme one more and then I'm gonna fill you up."

"Jake!" you yelped, grabbing onto the pillow and even biting it as he slammed into you.  

"You're so good, baby, your pussy feels so good," he growled, pinning you down by your shoulders as he sped up even more.  He laughed when he felt your walls weakly fluttering, his balls hitting your swollen clit with each thrust.  "Gonna come again already, baby?  Just from my cock?"

"Yes," you sobbed hoarsely, "yes, Jake, I'm gonna come again— oh my god, please don't stop…"

"Oh, I won't stop," he assured.  "You take it so fuckin' good, sweetheart, like you were made for it.  Like you were made for me."

You moaned loudly and he took the opportunity to spank you— not incredibly hard but enough to make you whine a bit… and get even wetter.

"Oh fuck, you like that huh?" he purred with a grin.  "You like it rough."

"Yes, fuck, I love it," you agreed with a moan.  "I'm— I'm coming, Jake, don't stop."

"Yeah, I know," he chuckled, "I can feel it.  Feels so good when you come on my cock, baby…"

You went suddenly from arching your back and gripping the pillow to falling limp and relaxing, your body his toy now as he fucked you to the point of overstimulation.  Your moans were exhausted and muffled now, your walls clinging to him desperately as he continued stroking every sensitive place he could reach (which was all of them).

He could so easily pull out and paint your back, or jerk himself off over your ass, but if he was going to claim your body then he was going to do it right.  

He didn't warn you in advance, just in case you suddenly decided to tell him to pull out, but he did make sure you knew what he was doing.  "Fuck, I'm coming!" he moaned as his cock flexed and his seed filled you, still thrusting in time with each pump of his release.  It was nearly overwhelming, physically and psychologically.  He was finally filling you like he'd fantasized about basically every time he got off since he met you, finally making you his the way you should've been from the beginning.

He sighed and laid down on top of you, smiling as he kissed all over your face, neck, shoulders, and back.

You giggled sleepily, but whined when he tried to pull out, bringing your legs up to hold him inside.  "Don't go yet," you pleaded.

"Okay, baby, I'll stay right here until you fall asleep," he promised.  "Goodnight, beautiful…"

//

Not only could he not think of a night he'd slept better in his life, but he was pretty sure this was the best any man had slept in the history of sleep.  But even then, he wasn't at all disappointed when you woke him up.

"Good morning," you whispered in his ear with a giggle, making him blink his eyes open and look down at where you were resting your face on his chest.

"Good morning," he returned with a grin, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close.

"Last night was… pretty amazing," you smiled coyly, and he stroked your cheek as he felt it warm even more.

"Yeah, you have no idea," he chuckled, lifting your head so he could give you a kiss.  It was supposed to be quick and wholesome but you deepened it instantly, wrapping your arms around his neck.  

Just as you started to climb up to straddle him, he heard your stomach loudly growl and he pulled back to laugh.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but it sounds like you've got some other needs to take care of first," he smirked.

"Ugh, you're right," you sighed, "I'm going raid your kitchen."

"No, let me do that, I'll make you something— whatever you want," he offered, starting to sit up, but you pushed him back down.

"Jake, you've done enough for me already.  I don't even know what I want, that's why I wanna go look at what you have."

"If you insist," he relented, watching you hop out of bed and playfully smacking your ass when it was within reach.  You giggled and scampered away, leaving him to lay back and put his hands up behind his head, taking a deep breath of satisfaction.  His plan had not only worked but gone beyond his expectations— clearly you had wanted this, on some level, from the beginning, you were too eager for him to believe otherwise.  But that didn't matter now, because you were finally his and it was exactly as he'd dreamed it would feel: right, undeniably and overwhelmingly right.

He decided to take a break from basking in his own glory for a while to get up and find some food for himself as well.  After all, he planned on fucking you at least one more time today so he'd need lots of energy to keep him going.

He slipped back on his boxers and walked to the kitchen, finding you there standing oddly still.  "What are you doing?" he asked with a bemused scoff.

"Jake…" you mumbled, staring into the cabinet blankly.

"What's wrong?" he asked, stepping closer but stopping in his tracks when he saw what you were looking at: a six-pack box of granola bars.  He sighed a little as he internally chided himself for such a rookie mistake.  "Baby, seriously, what's wrong?"

"I… these… this is the same kind they gave me… it was the only thing I ate for almost four days."

"Oh my god," he whispered, stepping up behind you and wrapping his arms around you to try to soothe you.  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring back any bad memories.  You only ate granola bars for four days?  Honey, you must be starving, please just let me cook you something—"

"No, not only granola bars: only a granola bar.  Just one…"

You reached up to grab the box but he held you tighter, trying to stop you.  Instead what happened was you accidentally knocked the box over, exactly five bars sliding out and landing on the floor with a crinkly thud.

You gasped with realization and tried to squirm away but his comforting hug turned into restraint instantly.  "Jake, let me go…"

"I'm sorry, baby, but I don't think I can do that."

"Jake, please," you begged with a sob.  "Why did you— how could you?"

"I know you had feelings for me, you just needed a little encouragement."

"Feelings for you?  I hate you!"

"Huh, that's odd, because I distinctly remember you begging me to fuck you last night,” he taunted.  “I remember you coming for me, twice.  Is that what you normally do when you hate somebody?"

"You're a monster," you sneered.

"And you're stuck with me, whether you like it or not," he chuckled, spinning you around to bend you over the counter, pressing his hips against yours as you whined and failed to squirm away.  "So you might as well let yourself like it."

[shelby-love]

KELLY SEVERIDE

Good to be back.

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warnings: none

Authors note: Sorry for dissappearing! Writers block is an absolute b and it still isn't gone but I guess it's enough to get me back on track. Much love everyone! 💕

"Good luck sis." Your older brother says behind you. The deep breath you tried to hide pushed through and makes you exhale loudly. After turning your body to face him you make your way to hug him once more.

After a decade of being away from the magnificent city of Chicago, the one you were born in, you finally came back.

Firehouse 51 looks intimidating as you stand before it. "Alright. I'll see you at home."

Your brother leaves you be by entering the car and driving away. With your duffle bag thrown over your shoulder you start walking towards the massive house.

You see several vehicles parked in the driveway, one of them being your new ambulance vehicle. Your eyes roam around your surroundings.

"Hey can I help you somehow? I'm Joe." A good looking man comes up to you. His dementor is friendly and he makes you relax instantly.

"Yeah... Um actually I'm here as the new PIC. Ambulance 61?" You state, unsure if you actually came to the right house.

"Y/LN right? Yeah Chief told us. Come let me show you to his office." He starts walking rapidly fast while talking about all the rooms and people at the house. You struggle to keep up with the information so you decide to just watch and memorise the rooms.

"This is Connie. Connie this is our new PIC." He instructes you to the lady that sits at the desk. She looks really intimidating. She just shoots Joe a look and says, "I know. Hello Y/N. Welcome to firehouse 51."

When Joe tries to open the door Connie stops him, "He's busy right now. But he'll be done in a minute and th-"

Her words are cut off by the office door opening. Two men stride out wearing dark blue shirts meaning that they're lieutenants. The man that comes out second makes your heart beat faster instantly. He just seems really fimiliar to you.

When Kelly exited the office, the last thing he thought he would see was you. Literally the last thing.

"Y/N?" His mouth worked faster than his brain. All it took to get your mouth on the floor was him recognizing you after a decade.

He changed. A lot. He wasn't the boy you saw 10 years ago anymore. He grew up, handsomely too.

"Hey Kelly."

"Casey let's go I need to talk to you." He stated monotonous, acting like he didn't even know you anymore. Your name felt bitter in his mouth and you knew it.

As soon as the duo dissappeared Joe didn't try to hide his discomfort, "Well that was...wierd."

Joe wanted to comment more but his words were cut short by the bataillon chief. "Y/LN you can come in. Thank you Joe for showing her the way."

With a small salute Joe took this as his cue to leave. He wondered what was up with Severide, he never acted like that towards anyone new. When he saw him sitting at the squad table he debated whether to press him to get information or just stay put.

"Please Y/N take a seat. Make yourself comfortable." You couldn't really get comfortable until you got the green light from everyone...but after seeing Kelly you knew that wasn't going to be possible.

"I will keep this short. Leslie Shay is going to help you get settled in the ambulance but I'm sure you'll have no problem."

"Ambulance 61, truck 81, squad 3. Truck collision. South Clark 56."

Just great, you thought. Still not fully trusting your orientation in the firehouse you make your way outside with the chief. Once you spot Kelly next to the squad truck you hesitantly smile at him but he breaks contact and jumps inside.

"Hey I'm Shay? You okay if I drive?" A pretty blonde comes up to you. Your eyes are still locked on the squad truck and so the words slip just slip out. "Yeah sure."

"Oh my God! Finally someone with some sense," She rambles on happily while you sit in the passenger seat. "I mean it might take a while for you to get used to this... But take the wheel whenever you want! Or don't. Please don't. But I mean you can. Obviously..."

Fits of laughter overcome the nervousness in the ambo. "I'm Y/N."

Her eyes flash with something unknown to you. It's like she's trying to remember something... Or someone.

"Well nice to meet you partner." She smiles and makes a turn. "A little heads up. Collisions aren't that bad here in Chicago. We just have to squeeze into the vehicle. But don't worry! The guys make sure nothing happens to us."

Aren't that bad, she said.

Her words were proven to be false when you arrived at the scene. It was a terrible sight.

Two big loaded trucks smashed right into each other. The bigger truck now hanged over the cliff with the driver in his seat.

"Squeeze in you said Shay." You repeat her words and exit the ambo.

Where you lived you never had calls that big. You now doubted your abilities. Especially because you don't know anyone to ask for help except for Kelly who gave a honest impression that he doesn't like you anymore.

"Okay squad, truck, let's get them out!" A man who's uniform read Casey announced. You grabbed the jump bag and followed them. The man that didn't hang from a cliff seemed to be lost in his thoughts when you came to him.

"Y/N I got him." Shay suddenly appeared beside you. "They need you there."

Confused about her words you told her, "But I don't know them or how they work."

"You're the PIC though," She held the man's head to protect his neck. "Look I know about you and Kelly and trust me when I say that he'll come back to his senses soon. But you can't let that affect the job. Go!"

You didn't have to be told twice as you detached yourself from the truck and ran towards the huddle. "Where do you guys need me?" You asked. To your suprise Kelly ignored the tension and walked towards you.

"We need you inside with him he's in pretty bad shape." He explained and grabbed the ropes, his rough hands and strong arms connected you to his ropes securely. No matter how much you tried you couldn't ignore the different type of connection that was growing between you.

"I'm sorry I left Kelly." You spoke truthfully.

He glanced up at you before putting his hand behind your back and walking you through the plan. "Just be safe."

***

"Sir stay with me okay?!" You were trying to keep him stable while Kelly connected ropes to him as quickly as he could. He won't be able to make it unless you get him out now. "Kelly we don't have a lot of time!"

"Done! Cruz get him out now!!" Both squad and truck were trying hard to get him out without putting too much weight onto the hanging vehicle. After they get him out the two of you were next and until then you were stuck inside.

"You know I didn't have a choice?" You tell him. You want him to know you didn't just abandon what the two of you had.

"Y/N now is not the time."

Words were forming in you brain but before you could say them the weight of the truck shifted and the two of you sank with it. Before you could grab onto the rope your body shifted backwards and you almost flew through the broken window.

"Hey!" Kelly reached out and grabbed you. The look of fear in his eyes was evident and made you realise that this is the right time.

"You do realise we're only going to say what's on our mind not that we're closer to death than life?" Your words are meant to be a bit sarcastic and you voice is supposed to sound light but it turns out to be none of those things.

"Stop joking," Kelly sighs and helps you settle back in as carefully as possible. "You wanna know why I'm acting the way I am?"

You only nod.

"Because you left me when I wanted to tell how much I love you."

You're so struck by his words that you forget where you are.

"And because you left and made me think that I did something wrong."

He tries to avoid your eyes by looking back at the rest of the firefighters that are getting the patient safely on the ground.

"Kelly..."

"No forget it." He waves his hands but you aren't letting it go. Instead you do what you wanted to do for years and years. You lean in and kiss him.

With that one careful kiss you apologise for everything that happened.

You're scared Kelly will pull away but he only returns the kiss. He pulls away only when the other ropes arrive gives you his famous smile that made you fall for him all of those years ago.

"We're not done yet." He starts connecting more ropes to your body and the tension is higher than it ever was before. "You still have a lot to apologise for."

You wonder how to do it and smile.

Six words: It is good to be back.

MASTERLIST

[one-boring-person]

Just A Babysitter. (Part Five)

The Lost Boys x reader

Warnings: mentions of drug and alcohol use, some vague mentions of gore.

Context: (Y/n) entertains herself at the cave whilst the boys show Michael their true selves, before they rejoin her for some quality time spent together.

A/N: I apologise that this took longer to get out, but km quite happy with it, even if some parts don't necessarily work "realistically" ��

Part One , Part Two , Part Three , Part Four , Part Six , Part Seven , Part Eight

"Wanna take a drag?" Paul offers me, leaning over from his perch directly beside me on the railing of the Boardwalk, a lit joint pinched between his fingers.

"Nah, I'm good, thanks. Not really my thing." I decline, gently pushing his hand away from my face, wrinkling my nose at the pungent smell of weed.

"I forget that you're an alcoholic, not a junky. Sorry." The vampire responds, teasing me with smirk as I elbow him in the ribs, a grin on my own face.

"I wouldn't tease her for that, if I were you, Paul. We all know she holds her alcohol better than you do." David points out, giving us a pointed look as he inhales a breath of smoke from the cigarette in his hand. Marko and Dwayne snicker at this, the former yelping when Paul gives him a light slap on the back of the head.

"Not true! I'm not a lightweight!" He protests, though he knows full well that what David says is true.

"You're a lightweight compared to (Y/n)." Dwayne chips in, grinning at us from under his dark hair as he flicks it out of his eyes, the wind having blown it there in the first place.

Paul opens and closes his mouth a few times before giving in, shrugging and taking a drag of his joint in defeat.

"Not as lightweight as Marko." He mutters, a smirk on his face as he says this, intending to get a rise out of the mentioned vampire.

"More so, in fact." Marko retorts, pushing against his friend's back jokingly, laughing when Paul yelps in mock surprise.

He is cut off suddenly when he is pushed aside by a rather distressed Michael, the half-vampire angrily shoving Marko into me, nearly throwing me over the edge and onto the sand below, only just caught by Paul, who sacrifices his joint to save me. Steadying me, the vampire makes sure I'm alright before turning his blue-eyed gaze onto the brunette, staring at him as the rest of us do.

"Where is she?!" Michael growls into the leader's face, grabbing hold of his collar.

In response, David breathes out a lungful of smoke and chuckles, taking Michael's hands off of him.

"Take it easy, Michael." He says calmly, looking the half-vampire in the eye.

"Where is Star, David?" Michael spits out, putting heavy emphasis on the blonde's name.

"Michael, you ever wanna see Star again, you better come with us now." He threatens, face turning serious as the brunette lets him go, breathing erratic.

At his words, I immediately understand what is going to happen, and make a quick decision. As David moves to go back to the motorcycles, I tap at his arm, getting his attention as I walk beside him, voice quiet as I speak to him.

"Can I go home? I don't really want to watch you guys eat a bunch of people tonight..." My voice trails off as I start to think about how stupid and pathetic I must sound, surprised when the vampire places his arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer to his icy body, smiling down at me.

"Of course. Go make sure the other two aren't up to anything bad." David says, rubbing my arm gently before releasing me as we approach the bikes, climbing onto his with a practiced ease. Following suit, I get up onto mine and kick start the engine, waiting for the others to do the same, watching as Michael hesitantly joins us, eyes flicking to mine with confusion and trepidation. In response, I give him a sympathetic look, knowing full well that he will be horrified by what will become his fate.

As a group, we pull out onto the road, taking the route through town to get out, David surprisingly allowing me to ride closer to him than usual, the blonde smirking at me across the gap as I get level with him. Behind us, Paul, Dwayne and Marko all cry out in excitement, their energy levels shooting up at the prospect of a feed, whilst Michael just becomes even more worried. As we leave civilisation, we approach a junction, where we'd normally turn right towards the Bluff, but this time it's only me who takes this route, my hand lifting into a wave as I veer away from the others, bringing up the speed as much as I can as I turn onto the mostly empty road.

For once, I mostly stick to the rules of the road, staying on the correct side and keeping to the speed limits, my pace not quite as wild as it usually is, though I do skip through a few traffic lights I come across, grimacing when I hear the protests of others behind me. The ride up the dusty track leading to the Bluff is no different however, I take it as fast as I usually do, skidding on the dust a little as the bike struggles to grip the ground. A giddy whoop of thrill rips from my throat as it does so, a grin forming on my face in response to this, just proving how much of an adrenaline junky I really am.

Finally, I reach the Bluff, stopping the bike and getting off before hiding it where we normally do, going down the rickety walkway into the cave, navigating it by instinct, seeing as it is nearly pitch black when the lighthouse isn't pointing at it. The interior is lit up by the braziers, the cheerful yet somehow tense sounds of Star and Laddie playing around floating up to me as I get closer, slowing my descent. It's not often these days that Star actually plays with the boy, mostly passing it off onto me or Paul, or Dwayne, who Laddie sees almost as a father figure of sorts. It's not that she doesn't care, it's just that she's preoccupied with other things, like the prospect of becoming a fully fledged vampire, which I can understand.

Entering the sunken hotel, I try to be as quiet as possible, making sure I don't step on any of the debris littering the floor, aiming not to interrupt the two of them at all. Somehow I manage to succeed in doing so, stepping silently over to the corner where my armchair is situated, taking a seat and picking up a book to read, which just so happens to be Anne Rice's "Interview With The Vampire", a favourite of mine ever since the boys bought it for me a couple of years ago, as a joke. Even as I read it through now, I find myself drawing parallels between the characters and my friends, specifically Laddie and Claudia, who are both turned at a young age, and will never fully experience what adulthood is like thanks to this. At the thought of this, a sense of pity wells up in me, thinking back to the boy who I've come to care for as a younger brother, knowing that, eventually, he will become bitter and resentful at his fate, no matter what the rest of us do to help him. If only the boys had read the book, then it might have occurred to them how unfair Laddie's life will soon become.

For a little while, I read the book, soon tiring of the pages as I finish the storyline in my head knowing it all too well, standing from my seat and stretching out my stiff muscles with a sigh. Placing the book down, I survey the area, quickly making up my decision when I notice the familiar beams of wood resting against the far wall, their ends not too far from the secure iron frameworks latticing the ceiling, their rusty bars appearing mostly safe. With a small smile, I go over to them, testing their stability before taking a firm hold of them, bracing my feet against the rock wall and shuffling upwards. A groan escapes me at the exertion, but I push on, determined to reach the top, ignoring the steadily growing burn in my muscles, halting briefly when the beam to my left suddenly makes a cracking noise, a burst of panic making me tense up. When nothing further happens, I continue on my way, going a little more cautiously so as to avoid putting too much pressure on the old pieces of wood, a proud grin splitting my face as I reach the top, my head turning around to gauge the distance between me and the first iron bar. Judging it well, I reach out one arm and push off the wall, feeling suddenly vulnerable somewhere in the middle as I stop on my trajectory, before I feel the reassuring roughness of the iron beneath my fingers.

Taking hold of it with both hands, I allow myself to swing for a moment, enjoying the new perspective of the room briefly, grimacing when I finally heave myself onto the bar, precariously managing to stand up, my feet somehow finding safe purchase on the frame. Using the other bars around me as a railing, I walk along the bar until I reach the middle of the room, where I then sit down, swinging my legs over the edge, watching the room intently, waiting for the two half-vampires to emerge from the curtained area by their beds. I sit there for ten minutes before I see anything, my eyebrow lifting when I notice Star step out into the light, alone wearing a black jacket, looking around as if to check if the rest of us are back yet. I decide to put her out of her misery.

"Going somewhere?" I call down to her plastering a pleasant smile onto my face.

Surprised, Star looks around with wide eyes, trying to find me in the shadows, not once looking upwards towards the ceiling, where I'm residing, amused by her oblivion.

"Up here." I quickly inform her, trying not to laugh when she finally finds me, shock lining her face.

"(Y/n)?! How the hell did you...?" She starts, voice trailing off when she casts her eyes around the room, trying to find out how I got to my perch.

"I climbed. Now answer my question." I respond, smiling at her to show I'm not trying to be controlling, even if that's how it sounds.

"I'm going out." She confirms, clenching her jaw a little.

"Out?" I question, looking at my watch to check the time.

"Yeah, I'm going to the Boardwalk." I can tell she's lying, but I don't say anything, instead telling her to have fun, assuming that she's put Laddie to bed already, seeing as she is willing to leave him alone.

As she leaves, I decide that I'm bored with my current position and decide to change it up, knowing that any slip of the hand could be deadly. Carefully, I manoeuvre myself so that I'm hanging upside down with my legs hooked over the bar, my feet linked under another one a foot or two away to provide stability, my clothes all hitching up around my shoulders as the gravity pulls them downwards. Instantly, I can feel the blood rush to my head, my vision briefly clouding over as I try my best to ignore it, biting my lip when the nausea starts to kick in. Despite all this, the thrill of hanging by a thread seems to excite me, my adrenaline pumping through me, my heartbeat racing in anticipation.

Vaguely, I hear as the boys finally return, their voices loud in the confined space, energy clearly high after feeding; knowing them, they probably came in wearing their victims on their clothes, too. I spot them quickly as they enter the room, their brows furrowing as they notice I'm not in my usual spot, clearly picking up my scent and the sound of my pulse, but unable to place my whereabouts.

"Where is she?" Marko wonders aloud, looking around in concern.

"She's not with Laddie." Paul states, having just gone to check, confusion lacing his voice as the other two stay quiet.

David and Dwayne seem to come to the same conclusion, their gazes landing on the beams I used to climb up, before following them up to the ceiling, worry etched into their faces. They don't spot me immediately, but I give them a grin and a quick wave, and they realise where I am, David letting out a chuckle as he spots me, Dwayne only sighing in exasperation, followed by a broad grin when Marko and Paul continue to figure it out. The former notices David and Dwayne looking up, and follows their line of sight, eyes widening when he sees me, a giggle escaping him, along with a gasp of surprise, Paul figuring it out seconds later.

"How'd you get up there?!" He calls up to me, grinning maniacally at the sight.

"I climbed." I inform them, struggling to talk now, what with the oxygen rushing to my brain, deciding to get back into a comfortable position.

"You climbed? Damn, you have some serious muscle." Marko compliments, making me blush at the comment.

"How do you plan to get back down?" David inquires, smirking at me as I look at the beams against the wall, finally noticing that the climb down wouldn't work as easily as the journey up did, what with the pieces of wood having cracked through the middle.

"Yeah, I didn't think of that." I reply, frowning a bit at the predicament I'm in, embarrassment making me blush.

The sudden sight of Dwayne standing in front of me makes me jump, the brunette grinning widely at me, the vampire clearly having flown up her using his vampiric abilities.

"Jesus, Dwayne, you scared the hell out of me!" I curse, placing a hand over my heart as if to calm it.

"Oops." He responds, before leaning forwards and picking me up, ignoring my protests as he cradles me against his chest, stepping off of the beam again once he's got me. Slowly, he descends back to the cave floor, setting me back on my feet as the rest of the boys crowd around me.

"What made you think I was ready to come down?" I grumble in mock irritation, trying not to smile as Paul mimics me, instinctually giving him a light slap on the chest as he does so. At our antics, the others chuckle, watching as Paul gives me a gentle shove in response, which ultimately breaks out into a playful wrestling match between us as we refuse to let the other win.

For a few minutes, we roll around on the floor, trying our best to get the upper hand, which he eventually manages to do, pinning my body to the floor by grabbing my wrists and holding them above my heads, grinning when he notices my chest heaving in exhaustion, a pout making it's way onto my face at the fact I lost. Again.

"No fair, you used your vampire strength!" I complain, waiting for him to let me up again.

"Nope, I didn't. You'd know if I did, girly." The vampire smirks, not budging as I start to wriggle under his lanky frame, only just noticing the blood still staining the white fabric of his trousers.

"Still." I continue, gritting my teeth as I try my best to get out from under him, looking around to the other boys for help. David smirks and shrugs, letting me know it's my own predicament and I need to get out of it alone, Dwayne smiles at me, clearly enjoying the show, whilst Marko is nowhere to be seen.

"Get off me, you're heavy as hell!" I protest, going limp in his arms as I give up wriggling out from his grip.

"I'm not!' Paul exclaims, acting offended though his blue eyes are glittering with mischief. However, just as he's about to continue, the air is suddenly knocked out of him and he goes flying over my head, his body crashing to the floor a couple of metres away with another, smaller one situated on top of him, Marko's devious giggling echoing around the cave as he and the other vampire get into a scrap again, both of them laughing together. Watching them from my spot lying on the floor, I allow a smile to plaster itself across my face, enjoying watching the two of them playfight, not noticing when Dwayne comes over to help me up, the tall brunette grinning at me as he offers me his hand.

Taking it, I allow him to pull me to my feet, groaning when I feel the blood rush to my head, my balance faltering momentarily before the tall vampire manages to catch me, chuckling lowly as he steadies me against his body. Leading me over to the random sofa they have lying around, he sits me down on it and joins me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as I let my head drop onto his chest, still watching the two younger vampires scuffle around with each other. A quick glance across the room tells me that David is just as invested in the show as we are, the platinum blonde's lips slightly upturned into a smirk.

"Where'd Star go?" Dwayne asks me after a moment, shooting a worried look at the bed in the corner, having finally noticed that it is empty.

"She said she was going to the Boardwalk, but I don't believe her. I think she went to see Michael." I reply, admitting my thoughts to the group because they'll figure it out sooner or later anyway.

"You're probably right. He's gonna need the support anyway." Dwayne comments, brow furrowed a little, even if his tone is light.

"How do you mean?" I question him, confused until the pieces click into place, "I guess he didn't take too well to the whole killing people thing, then?"

"He was terrified." David confirms from across the room, rolling his eyes at the memory.

"Yeah, well, that's a given, surely? I didn't exactly have the best reaction myself, did I?" I point out, embarrassed at the reminder of my childish reaction, back when they first showed me who they really were.

"True, but you didn't stick your face in the sand to avoid looking at us." David replies, smirking briefly before turning back to the other two, "Are you quite finished? The sun's coming up soon."

Almost sheepishly, Paul and Marko pry themselves apart, straightening themselves up as they quickly apologise, though it is obvious that they don't really care. Seeing Dwayne and I together on the sofa, they both exchange a glance, swiftly throwing themselves at the two of us with all the force they can muster, eager to join us. Instantly, Paul sits himself with his head in my lap, moving my hands to his hair, allowing me to touch it for once, Marko draping himself over the back of the sofa, his head resting on my shoulder. Smiling, I carefully brush my fingers through Paul's mess of hair, leaning my head against Marko's as Dwayne pulls me closer into him, rubbing my arm gently, watching as the other vampires soak up the affection, clearly happy to be in such proximity.

Across the room, David watches us, his blue eyes giving away no emotion even if there is a small smile gracing his lips, his head cocked to the side in interest. Eventually, he stands and comes closer to us, sitting himself on the side of the fountain so as not to impose, unsure of what else to do. From my position under the rest of them, I shoot him a quick smile before  Paul lets out a complaint, the lanky vampire insisting I stay focused on him, which draws an exasperated eyeroll out of both David and Dwayne,  the latter reaching down briefly to flick him in the side of the head. Almost instantly, Paul has retaliated, poking the brunette's leg with a cheeky pout on his lips. Marko giggles as we watch the two of them start a little war of poking and prodding each other, neither vampire willing to give in until one of them accidentally catches me, at which point a surprised yelp escapes me, alerting them both to this fact. Both are quick to apologise, Dwayne pressing a swift kiss to my temple as Paul does the same to the palm of my hand, slender fingers tracing a pattern on the tender skin as he pulls away, smiling up at me apologetically.

For a little while, we remain as we are, comfortably sitting in each other's presence, though I can tell David wishes he were more involved, before all four of them realise what time it is, looks of worry and irritation creeping into place onto their faces.

"What's wrong?" I question them, confused as to their sudden change of mood.

"The sun is coming up." David supplies simply, blue eyes narrowed with frustration.

"Oh." My voice is laced with disappointment, even though I know it isn't their fault.

"Sorry, girly. We gotta go." Paul says to me, reluctantly rolling himself off my lap and onto the floor catching himself on his hands and knees as he behaves himself upright. With a sigh, Dwayne and Marko release me, too, the former giving me one last squeeze as he stands up, stretching his tall body put with a satisfying cracking sound, growling when Paul pokes his stomach in the process, a chase swiftly ensuing as the blonde vampire runs, giggling, towards their sleeping area. Marko gives me one last hug before pursuing them, eager to see Paul get his ass kicked by Dwayne, eyes glittering in amusement.

David is the last to leave, coming over to me on the sofa for a moment and sitting himself beside me, slinging an arm around my shoulders and pulling me into him. It's rare that he gives me this much affection, so I eagerly wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face into the material of his jacket, inhaling the familiar scent of old cigarette smoke, motor oil and blood which has always, surprisingly, comforted me. His low chuckle resonates through his chest, his other arm coming up to hold me tightly, pressing me into his cold body, thumbs rubbing circles into my back as he always has done, ever since they first took me in.

Too soon, he pulls away, pressing a careful kiss to my forehead as he does so, blue eyes softening for a second as they make contact with mine, the proximity causing my pulse to pick up considerably. Knowing he can hear it, I stand up from his grip, pulling him with me as I cast my gaze to the entrance to the cave, where the first rays of sunlight are just becoming visible.

"Sleep well, David." I say to him quietly, hanging my head a bit, as if ashamed at my body's reaction to him and the others.

Lightly, he takes my chin in his hand, tilting my head back up to him as he meets my guilty eyes.

"You, too, (Y/n)." He responds, voice just as soft as mine, a smile gracing his lips before he turns away from me, walking into the tunnel leading to their sleeping area, giving me one last glance as he disappears into the darkness.

Sighing, I take myself to my bed, taking off my jacket and shoes as I prepare to climb into the warm confines, not quite tired just yet, even though I should be. A footstep behind me snaps my attention to the entrance of the room, irrational fear briefly exploding in my mind until I turn to find Star standing there, an odd look on her face.

"Star? What's up?"

"Nothing, I just, err..." She begins, trying to find the right words, "Well, I wanted to say sorry for being a bit of an ass to you these past few days, especially with how good you've been to Laddie. He really loves being with you."

At first, I'm a bit surprised, but I swiftly push it down, motioning for her to come closer. She takes a seat beside me on the bed, her body tense and uncomfortable.

"You don't have to be sorry, life hasn't exactly been easy for you recently. I doubt being a half-vampire is simple at the best of times, so you've been dealing with it quite well, on the scale of things." I reassure her, the words genuine.

"Doesn't give me an excuse to be rude."

"Of course it does. It's not a light choice to make, so I don't blame you for being a bit tense. Don't be so hard on yourself, it's not your fault the whole transition thing is so taxing."

At my words, she gives me a small smile, glad that I'm not flipping out on her at all, even though I have been irritated with her at times in the past few days. I do understand why, though, so I don't really blame her for anything.

"Thanks, (Y/n). I'm glad I've got another girl to talk to." She admits, leaning over to hug me gently, as if afraid to touch me. Carefully, I return the gesture, patting her on the back comfortingly.

"Yeah, me too. There's just a little bit too much testosterone flying around without you." I grin as she chuckles, pulling back a little to look me in the eye.

"Same goes for the other way round." Star chuckles, getting up and going to the doorway, looking back at me, "Thank you again."

"Of course." I reply, smiling at her, happy that she came to talk to me.

"Goodnight, or good day, I guess." She says, allowing me to reply before leaving the room.

I take a few moments to think things through, eventually slipping beneath the covers and into the comfortable interior of the been sighing as I allow myself to relax. It takes me a while to fall asleep, and it is fitful when I finally manage to, the slightest noise waking me up.

Much to my advantage, it turns out.

Part Six

[a-garden-of-worlds]

Alright so a few people have expressed wanting to adopt and own a lamia bitty that I created a while back.

So, now that I have a design for his brother and their eggs (there are two, one created by me and one created by my new friend, Sys, who's bitty blog is @forgotten-bittys

Both the bitties and their eggs have strange effects on their environment, so without further ado, let's get into the lore, shall we?

So to start off, this particular set of bitty twins are a strange phenomena that has started being reported throughout the world where random people and random bitty shops recieve a small package of unknown origins. Sometimes it holds (one) of the two eggs mentioned above, which will eventually hatch into a set of twins. Other times it holds the already hatched pair of baby lamia. (85% male, 10%female 5% other (nonbinary)

The Lunar Type egg (the first one, drawn traditionally by me) affects the dreams of those who sleep with in the same room as the egg. Whatever dreams you might normally have start becoming increasingly bizzar until the egg hatches.

Sometimes these dreams are prophetic, and you find that what happened in your dream ends up coming true not long after. Other times you get the feeling you've traveled, or even witnessed something change in the (sometimes very distant) past and may later open up a history book to find that very event had actually happened. (Or you get the feeling it should be something else and has changed)

Still, other times you travel to other strange, unknown realities. And throughout each and every dream and nightmare you get the sense that your body or soul is traversing the surface of the egg.

For the Solar type, (drawn digitally, again by Sys.)

It gives of a glittering, cold, black mist and glows in the dark. Causing hallucinations during the night and bringing a feeling of comfort during the night.

Both sparkle and shimmer in the sunlight.

The bitties: each single egg hatches a pair of twins. More often than not these twins will be tightly coiled around each other, embracing and it could take some gentle coaxing to get them to separate. It will be easier to coax them to let go of each other if you got them as an egg and were the first one seen when they open their eyes, but if you got them after they hatched, they'll likely be a little more stubborn.

As for personality, it's entirely up to the individual adopting as each pair is different in their own ways.

If you decide you only want to adopt one and not the other, know that separating them will make them always feel as though something is missing. They might try to fill that void somehow.

The twins feed on negative and positive emotions as you might expect from a dream and nightmare bitty, leaving behind no waste. They can still eat regular food however, if they so wish but you might want to limit their intake lest they get indigestion. Some individuals may have allergies or be lactose intolerant. Also: their little crowns appear sometime after feeding on emotions for the first time.

As for the effects of the bitty twins, they appear to cause an increase in bad and good luck. You might win the lottery, but at the same time you could have your identity stolen. (Might wanna up the security on that just in case)

Sometimes you may also end up with a cryptid or something stalking you at night, wherever you go. This last one is much more likely to happen if you only have the crescent twin.

Mating/heat

They get their first heat at age 18. However for some reason, all attempts at breeding them has never worked to produce the lunar or solar eggs, and more often than not they prove to be infertile so the origins of the eggs remain a mystery. (You can still make ship kids with them though I won't stop you.)

Oh! And one more thing about their lore: since they're such a strange phenomena, the local government might try to come take them from you in one way or another if they catch wind of you having them, so uh, bitty disappearances might happen.(Should you want to spice things up in a fic or something)

That's... About all the information I've got on my lamias so far, besides an idea for corrupted versions of them but if I ever go through with it it'll be at a later date in a separate post.

So, how do you adopt? Just make something with them. Draw it, write it, or even just daydreaming about it. Choice is yours. Ya want a pair or even just one, go for it. I don't mind.

Can you make nsfw of them? I don't mind as long as

1. They're both appropriately aged and act/look like it.

2. Everything is appropriately tagged/in the appropriate place for that kind of content so as to avoid minors coming across it.

3. ABSOLUTELY NO MINOR/ADULT! That shits gross.

Credit: as you probably already know, og Nightmare and Dream were made by jokublog while I made the design and one of the eggs shown here.

Should you credit me? Well, it's not 100% necessary but I'd really like to see what you make if you decide to do anything with them so if you could do that just to tag me, that'd be great. (Again not 100% necessary as long as your not claiming the designs as your own.)

And well... That's it! That's the post! 😊 adopt away!

[pink-peony-princess]

Months on the making

"Please?" My best friend Ashley, begged, chasing me around the dorm room.

"I don't know," I sighed flopping down on the sofa and switching the TV on. It was 3 in the afternoon so there wasn't much on, but the aimless chatter was enough to block out the whining coming from my roommate.

"Please, please, please, I'll clean the toilet for a month, and you can use my Netflix and steal my lecture notes," she added. I looked at her laughing slightly as she got down on her knees and literally begged me. "Who knows," she added when I didn't respond. "It is a cross facility party, so you might even see some cute guys there, cute doctors," she added.

"Shawn won't be there, there's no way, he's a week out from starting his residency," I stated as if this ended it.

"Who said anything about Shawn?" She smirked, getting up. "You're coming!" She called, walking into the kitchen and returning with snacks. "I mean come on! It's not like you two haven't been sussing each other out all semester ever since you worked in that group project for communications, I mean it's clear you like each other, he's even told his buddies, make your move girl, he's perfect for you!" She encouraged.

"He sure is that," I agreed, dazed just thinking about him. He was tall and built, with broad shoulders, and soft brown curly hair, an award-winning smile and charm to boot. On top of all that he was a really nice guy. No one seemed to have a bad word to say about him.

Two hours later we walked into the party, and I was immediately taken aback by how many people were here. "I'm going to get a drink," Ashley yelled over the music. I nodded turning around, coming across the one face I didn't want to see.

"Oh shit, Hayden is here," I hissed, running to catch up to Ashley.

"Just try to ignore him, he's a douche!"

The night was going well and despite myself, I'd even started to relax and enjoy myself, Ashley had even managed to get Shawn and I talking, not that we didn't flirt with each other whenever we saw one another, but we never really got to have a real conversation- about the more meaningful stuff. We talked about everything from the way Ashley and Brian his best friend were flirting shamelessly, why he chose to live on campus even though he could have chosen to take his last few pre-residency classes online having successfully completed his residency year and what he was looking forward to most.

I was on a real high- he was so easy to talk to (and flirt with)- he'd even suggested we go out for breakfast which immediately got my heart racing. The thought of going out with Shawn-alone, was thrilling.

This changed however, when Shawn declared that he was going to get a drink and Ashley announced she was going to the bathroom, leaving me on the patio where we'd been chatting all alone. I heard the door go, expecting it to be one of them back already, but when I turned, I found Hayden, sauntering over to me, a disturbing smirk on his face. A third-year sports major, med school drop out Hayden was a class A arsehole that would try to get with any girl he could-everyone knew that. He'd had more security warnings than anyone else in our year and he'd decided that his latest challenge was me. It had started in communications class which all journalism, med and sports science majors took- along with a few others so it wasn't uncommon to run into people from other courses. Basically, if you had to talk to people as part of your career, you took the class.

But when I'd told him I wasn't interested, like so many others in the class before me had, he took that as a challenge and had made my life a living hell for the past three months.

"So Kenzie, you finally come to your senses?" He slurred, coming to stand mere inches from my face, his breath stunk of stale beer.

"Go shove it," I spat instinctively taking a step back in an effort to put some distance between us.

"Careful Kenz, you don't have your little pozzie with you now." He grabbed my wrist, slamming me into the side of the building, knocking the wind out of me. I could already feel where the rough stone was cutting into my exposed skin of my back, wrist aching.

"Get off me!" I yelled again, moving to push him away. This only seemed to anger him further though.

"Man she said to leave her alone, " another voice spoke, "so leave her alone." The figure was tall and it was only when they stepped into the light that I realised it was Shawn. Relief flooded me.

"What are you doing here Mendes? Come to protect your girl?" He taunted.

"Stopping a dickhead from doing something stupid," He spoke cooly, a new drink in his hand.

"Wait, what's your degree again, oh yeah...medicine, well let's see how good you really are!" He spoke, pulling me into him by my already pained limb and then thrusting me backward again, smashing me into the wall and ripping my dress in the process leaving me exposed and vulnerable. The relief I had felt moments earlier was replaced with terror.

My head was spinning, a dull ache starting at the base of my scalp, my legs gave out and I found myself on the ground, a shivering, shaking mess.

"Someone call security to come get this piece of shit out of here," Shawn called to the group of people that had assembled at the commotion before crouching down beside me.

"Are you okay, Kenz?" He asked, looking me up and down. I was in too much pain to care that he or anyone else was seeing me practically naked.

"Kenzie, Kenzie oh my God!" Ashley yelled, coming to a skidding halt beside me.

"Give me your coat," Shawn spoke urgently gesturing to the woollen material Ashely had wrapped around her. She handed it over quickly, allowing him to wrap it around me carefully.

"Brian, come help me get her up and inside," he called when he realised his friend had returned.

"We're just going to help you stand up okay?" Shawn spoke gently. Taking my hand.

"Owwww, owww, stop!" I begged, feeling another wave of dizziness and nausea wash over me.

"Right come here," He spoke, picking me up in one gentle but fluid movement. I closed my eyes then, but I could feel people pointing and starting as we made our way through the house and out into the night air. The breeze was cool and dry, bringing me to my senses a little more.

"Out of the way people. I'm half a mind just to take her to the hospital, " He muttered to Ashley and Brian who I could hear trailing behind.

"She won't like that, can't you check her out yourself?" Ashley pleaded and I silently thanked the heavens that I had a friend like her.

"I mean, I could, but if I think she needs to go to the hospital once I look her over, we go, " he bargained.

As we walked for what seemed like ages the pain only intensified my side now throbbing horribly. I was almost certain I was going to be sick when we came to a sudden stop, the lock on a door clicking open.

"Brian get the first aid kit and my bag?" Shawn asked, moving rapidly through space and placing me down onto what felt like a bed.

"Kenz, Kenzie, open your eyes for me, honey." He urged, tapping my arm. With great effort to fight the increasing lethargy, I opened my eyes, blinking furiously at the bright lights that stung my eyes overhead.

"Where are we?" I whispered, trying to ignore the pain- I felt like a life-sized ache.

"We're in my dorm room. I wanted to go to the hospital, but Ash said you may not like that so I brought you here. I have the stuff to treat you here, providing you don't need any further testing, " He explained, kneeling beside my bed as I looked around. I made the mistake of trying to get up, and immediately regretted it when my ribs protested angrily.

"Easy, easy, he warned his expression one of sympathy and concern. "Stay there Kenz, I'll move you if need be. Do you remember what happened?" He asked, glancing down at me with a soft smile. I nodded, somewhat reassured by Shawn's warmth and competency.

"Hayden, " My voice was hoarse from the shouting earlier. He nodded.

"Good, that's a good sign."

He stood up, reaching for several items by the door- the first aid kit and a bag- no doubt the one's he had asked Brian to retrieve.

"Where are you hurting?" He asked, looking me up and down, appraising my injuries. Just this small action made the tears I had been holding back, spillover, a mixture of pain, fear, relief and embarrassment. "Hey, hey, you're okay. Shhh, you don't need to cry, " He murmured, taking my hand gently in his, immediately enveloping me with warmth. I had known I liked him for months now, and every time we interacted this was affirmed more by small things he would do or say- getting me my favourite coffee before early morning tutes, offering to walk me to class. Yet somehow this felt so much more intimate and I almost forgot where we were until Ashley cleared her throat.

"Do- do you wanna help her change and we'll come back in a minute. You can have one of my shirts." Shawn spoke shaking his head as if clearing a fog as he got up and threw a soft sweater at the bed.

I nodded mutely, not trusting my voice.

"A little help?" I asked Ashley, when the door closed.

"Girl he is smit-ten, She sang, coming over to help undo the ripped material of my dress."

"Shut up! He's probably just outside the door,"

I hissed, wanting very much to hit her over the head, but not wanting to move again for fear of pain.

The shirt smelled like him- a mix of Sandalwood and some sort of earthy, almost woodsy tone.

"You can come back in, " She called when I was decent again and laying back on the bed.

Thankfully Shawn was extremely professional, acutely aware of the strange situation and my escalated anxiety. Asking permission before so much as taking my pulse.

When he got to my ribs, he stopped, barely touching the bottom of the sweater.

"May I?" I nodded, sucking in a huge breath as the anticipation of pain (and Shawn's touch) over whelmed me. I could help, but hold my breath, as he gently palpated the area, feeling in and around my ribs. "Nothing feels broken, " He commented, after a little bit.

"So no hospital?" I asked praying he agreed. His brow furrowed. I would still feel better if you saw a fully licensed doctor. I'll call my mate okay. Connor, he's really chilled," He spoke, pushing some baby hairs off my face. "In the meantime let's get these cuts and bruises sorted, " He smiled.

Not much was said for the next half an hour, Shawn working quietly and efficiently. The only time I felt any pain was when he and Ashley had to sit me up so he could clean and disinfect my back. My wrists he said, although badly bruised and about eight differ ent shades of purple would heal on their own.

I was just starting to get sleepy, Shawn tapping me every so often to keep me awake when there was a soft knock at the door, before a man around Shawn's age, maybe a few years older walked in.

"Kenzie is it? I'm Connor, he introduced himself with a smile. "Shawn told me what happened, is it okay if I have a look at your head."

I nodded, trusting him, because Shawn trusted him. And honestly I just wanted, no needed, sleep.

Like Shawn his assessment was thourough, but quick. "You can lay back again, " he murmured as he finished checking me over, putting his penlight back in his pocket and pulling his gloves off.

"So?" Shawn asked, looking between me and his friend.

Connor sighed, "Yeah, you're right, she does have a small concussion, you know the drill, rest, lots of fluids, wake her every hour. He got you good, I'm sorry to say, " he grimaced. "Is someone staying with her?" He asked looking between me, Shawn and Ashley.

"I could stay, I mean, if you're okay with that?"Shawn spoke looking to me.

I shrugged, hissing as the action, pulled at my ribs.

"Okay, it's settled then, " Ashley clapped, a sly smile on her face, which I could just see past Shawn's torso blocking most of my view as he sat beside me.

Brian and Ashley stayed for a little longer, chatting quietly between themselves as I lay there half awake, and exhausted, but unable to sleep. When Shawn declared that it was time for them to go, because the 'patient' needed rest (this got a glare), Ash tried to kick up a stink, no doubt hoping to witness more content with which she could hold over my head. Shawn however wasn't having it, and insisted they come back tomorrow.

"Finally, some peace, jeez, my head hurts," I laughed, again regretting it.

"Here, take these." He handed me some tablets and a bottle of water. Sitting beside the bed on a chair, which he had pulled from the desk across the room. "It's been one hell of a night! I'll have to take you out to make up for it, " He spoke casually.

I turned, surprised, not quite sure I believe what I was hearing.

"Like a date?" I sqeeked out, feeling my face flush.

"I mean, I just thought..." He trailed off, rubbing the back of his head nervously.

"I'd like that," I smiled.

Get some rest and when you're better we'll organise something, it's been months in the making. Don't think I haven't noticed the way Ashley's been 'accidently' having to talk to the professor in comms class leaving us alone." He smiled.

I blushed, just thinking about it, damn, he was more perceptive than I thought. "Don't tease me, I'm sore, and tired, " I grumbled.

"I'm here if you need me, Honey, " He spoke, my heart swelling the nickname.

"Thank you, Shawn, "I spoke reaching for his hand as I finally fell to sleep.

[utterlyinevitable]

For the Directors Cut - something, everything, or anything about For All the Lies.

And if you don't mind saying, why didn't he keep in touch?

That fic still breaks my heart whenever I think about it ❤️

Ruby, you have no idea how excited I was to get this about FATL 😄 I am gonna re-read and will tell you anything and everything you’d ever wanna know 💗

Starting with the idea... 

It was a dream scene I had with someone I used to know my muse - the two of us meeting after all this time, harboring old unresolved feelings but coming to terms with how life panned out. Some time’s you’re just not meant to be with someone and there’s a greater happiness out there to grasp. 

So I just realized that the first line makes no sense and I should probably change it 😂

I did initially want Becca to be engaged to Bryce but thought better of it. She left her life at Edenbrook behind for a job far away, being with Bryce meant that there was always a possibility for her to come back - an teeny tiny opening where she could potentially fall back into Ethan. The finality of her fiancé being some unknown guy just felt right. Someone whom no one knew existed could finally, actually give her everything she’s always wanted and never knew she needed. 

In my mind Becca accepted the fellowship somewhere between the Gwyneth case and the Senator incident (which ultimately never happened in this timeline). Her and Ethan were getting closer, though for every time he kissed her he’d then be super strict and assert his position as her boss. Very waffley and she was not here for that after 1.5 years. With Edenbrook going under, Ethan being mad at her for turning the team for-profit, and the hospital cutting jobs, Becca did the one thing she knew she could do: used her clout as Dr. Banerji’s savior to secure a fellowship abroad and keep some other Edenbrook doctor off the budgetary chopping block. What really was left in Boston for her anyway? 

She and Ethan had one last night together before she made her decision. He was completely unaware she had even applied, treating the night like any other with them having takeout in his office looking over their respective files. He pushed her away. They had a little fight. The next morning she accepted the position. Ethan found out she was leaving in an email she sent to Dr. Banerji and CC’d him on. He responded with a simple: “Congratulations. I have every faith you will make an invaluable addition to their team.” 

Becca left and got a new local phone number. He could have emailed her personal account, but a part of him was definitely hurt. If she wanted to hear from him she would reach out, he told himself whenever she crept into his thoughts. For Becca it was easier to let go, he’d broken her heart one too many times. And just like him she thought if he wanted her in his life he would have reached out - he did know what new hospital she’d be working at. 

It was Ethan’s turn to feel abandoned, just like he did to her. Except this time she wasn’t coming back. There wouldn’t be a reset button or a chance to do things over in two months when she returned from her sabbatical. His pride took a serious hit. But he still kept tabs on his protégé - he had a google alert with her name. Any time it pinged with a new published work of hers, he was always the first one to order a copy. He missed her but he was so proud of the brilliant doctor he knew she would become.   

Having them meet at Harper’s engagement party was a happy accident, though now I really like how she’s shown how a workaholic can change their habits and find love and happiness. I wanted a place where Bryce and Ethan would definitely be dressed up in suits but nothing involving medicine. It’s also morbidly funny to have Ethan be witness to both the incredible women he lost move on and find happiness in their lives without him. He’s kinda stuck in his small box of ethics and morals. Which as we all know got in the way of his relationships. 

Aurora’s purpose here was to subtly reassert that Bryce is a friend and not fiancé. 

I’d like to think that Ethan felt Becca’s presence the moment she entered the gates on Bryce’s arm. Like even though he was at the back of the garden yards and yards away, somehow he could smell her perfume swirling in the air around him. Unsettling and alert. Then his eyes fell on her and he couldn’t believe it. He inched closer and closer until luckily she was alone and he could muster the courage to face his biggest regret. 

God I wish I could paint the picture that’s in my head of the two of them when she turns around and acknowledges him. It breaks my heart. All that yearning and pent up anxiety and months and months of tears packaged in the faint acknowledgement of “Dr. Ramsey”. Everything just fades away when their eyes lock onto one another and it’s like no time had passed - one week, two years, three decades - none of that mattered in the other’s presence. There’s this underlying feeling that if he was just brave enough to pick up where they left off and saw sorry that she’d forgive him and run away with him. That is, if he had the courage to do that before she committed to another man four months ago. A part of Becca always held onto the idea that he’d find her again. But the moment - no, a about four weeks after her fiancé proposed she finally put her childish crush in the past for good. Where it belonged. 

I like to think that Ethan and Becca were friends. So old times for them would be dancing at a highbrow event he was forced to attend and invited her just because he liked the company, he’d drive her to a shopping center after work sometimes when she needed to get a lot of items she couldn’t carry on the subway, or window shopping during their coffee breaks. 

They were always respectful of the other’s boundaries for the most part. Except when eyes and hands would linger a little longer than they should have. Except for when innocent lip biting became too enticing. Except when they drank a little more than usual and just enough to act on their emotions. Except for when they were at his apartment, and when they recalled the few times they gave in intern year. 

Becca’s hand at his chest is always over his heart. Ever since Miami she’s held his heart in the palm of her hand. Then there’s also the practicality of it being there to push him away if she needed to. 

Ethan knew she was engaged. He heard it through the Edenbrook grapevine and then saw it on Pictagram to confirm the rumor - he hadn’t logged into the damn app since he used it to make sure she landed in her new homeland safely. But having her in his arms now and knowing this fact... it was all so confusing. He couldn’t believe it. One of these had to be fake. He hoped it was the ring on her finger. 

As he twirled it back and forth, both of them were taken aback and just a little guilty. 

She mindfully thanked her fiance for once again knowing her and her needs better than she herself did.  

This is the other bit I put in just to hone that Bryce is not Mr. Becca. 

I went through so many things of what Ethan could say to move the conversation along and literally nothing felt right. As much as I wanted them to jump in and talk about what happened in their absence, the awkward tension between them had to reign supreme. There is no reason these two near-lovers should have been comfortable enough to bare all their insecurities, especially when they still harbor feelings for one another. Though they try to push past it with banter. 

The ghostly smile I imagine on Ethan’s lips when he tells her he read her book. It breaks and warms my heart. And Becca completely not knowing that he would read it? It’s like she never really knew him at all. Of course he was going to keep track of her career no matter what happened in their personal life. This stemmed from the idea that there are people in my life that I’m not close with and haven’t spoken to in years, but I still keep track of them and support their businesses and endeavors. I’m proud to have them as someone I used to know. 

Becca was going to ask him How he was which is why she let him continue his question.  

In this moment Becca recalled every single thing that kept her from reaching out. If she reached out she’d be letting him back in. She’d be letting him break her once more. If Ethan didn’t date her while they were in the same city, there was no way they could have a future if they’re an ocean apart indefinitely. I think this “Ethan...” is more exasperation compared to the later one. 

These two idiots should have confessed how much they love one another ages ago. That way they probably wouldn’t be in this position and she wouldn’t have left to ‘reset’.  

The hand motions between them is everything. Ethan squeezing hers to keep her close, her squeezing back to pull an answer from him. Him going slack in her arms and having to take a step back like the admission knocked the wind out of him. Her moving back into place like a magnet, her hand going back to his heart. His hand going over hers, letting his fingers fall through the cracks. Her immediately balling her hand up so he couldn’t linger in the space she left for him anymore - effectively finally shutting him out and not holding him in her palm anymore. Not holding onto him anymore. 

And then there’s the last three bittersweet lines that kill me every single time. 

That’s all we ever want for someone we care about - for them to be happy, right? If it couldn’t be him because he threw away every single chance she served up to him on a silver platter then Ethan guesses he’s glad it’s a man who know what kind of ring she needed and put a smile on her face. 

[I think I lost the plot of this commentary thing oops] 

[an-american-whovian]

- An American Whovian Reviews: 'Revolution of the Daleks' by Chris Shitnall.

• The Story Thus Far.

When we last left the Doctor she was partaking in one of the WORST Doctor Who episodes of all time. Turns out she's had, like, a billion regenerations -- and started off as a cute lil' black girl who got experimented on by some crazy TimeLord lady. Makes about as much sense as an asshole on my elbow.

I digress, after that whole REVEAL -- the Doctor is arrested by everyone's favorite space rhinos and sent to space jail much like Rick Sanchez at the end of 'Rick & Morty' season 2.

(Just not as good.)

• Recap.

The story starts off with a reminder of an even shittier story 'Resolution' in which the Doctor and "Fam'" defeat a Dalek with spare parts from a microwave. (Fuck you, Chibnall.)

Anyways, back to now: some people have the leftovers of that one Dalek in some facility. This one dude is tasked with transporting it and stops fer a hot cup of coffee -- which he chugs. (That's a thing.) Shortly thereafter, turns out he got drugged by the barista and she's, like, "Bitch, this is my truck now."

• I Loved that Show.

Curtis from 'Misfits' and Mr. Big from 'Sex & the City' meet up with some lady in which he hired some folks to "roleplay" as rioters. (I can't make this up.) He's, like, "Check this out -- I made these robots that can subdue rioters." (Where was he during the attack on the Capitol!?) Actually, Curtis from 'Misfits' supposedly made them from scratch.

Somewhere Davros is rolling in his chair.

• Political Disintrigue.

Mr. Big and the lady are in cahoots. I don't care.

• Elsewhere.

The Doctor is in jail serving her sentence and eating space brownies. She's got a Weeping Angel, Sycorax, Ood l and the Pting as neighbors. (Everyone loves call backs.) Laying on her cot she does her best quirky Matt Smith impersonation when she here's a-knocking.

WHO COULD IT BE!?

• Elsewhere, again.

We cut to the Fam' back on Earth. Yaz is living in a house that's a TARDIS in disguise; whilst Graham and Ryan could care less about what happened to the Doctor. They're, like, "Yaz, you gotta move on. However, someone leaked that footage of the roleplaying rioters versus a Dalek on DailyMotion -- so we should do something about that."

The lady and Mr. Big meet up, again, this time in some forest -- fer more expository conversation. I still can't be bothered.

Later, the Fam' just tracks down Mr. Big, like, it's nothing. Fortunately fer him, he has has guards -- and they shoo off the Fam'.

Ugh.

• Slammer Buddies.

The Doctor sees a Silence and then, say wha'!? Captain Jack is there to break he Doctor out with some doohickey he snuck up his ass. Turns out it's a giant hamster bubble that let's them break out of a MAXIMUM SECURITY SPACE JAIL! I hate this shit . . .

It's great to see Captain Jack, again, but this isn't worth it.

Only 18 minutes has passed. Fuck me.

• Exposition Earl.

Curtis from 'Misfits' is talking to Mr. Big and he's, like, "Dude, did you know there's, like, DNA samples inside that old casing you gave me!? Well, I took the time to clone it! I call it Squiggly."

Curtis from 'Misfits' cloned a Dalek. Fuuuuuuck.

Mr. Big is, like, "Yo, get that abomination out of my face and burn it!" -- which Curtis from 'Misfits' hesitantly obliges. Psyche! Squiggly takes mind control over Curtis from 'Misfits'. Who didn't see that coming!?

• Elsewhere: Part 3.

The Doctor and Captain Jack SOMEHOW just get back to the TARDIS like it's nothing. Fer some reason the Doctor is a bit of a jerk to Jack eventhough he just got her ungrateful ass out of Space Prison.

She's, like, "I gotta find my REAL friends." and meets back up with the Fam'. Yaz gets wet and Jack flirts with Graham. Turns out the Doctor has been gone fer a little less than a year. Cool. They get straight to the point and are, like, "Daleks are back. You know, the same aliens that tried to conquer Earth in series 2 and 4. Oh, no one remembers that?"

Fuck you, Chibnall.

• Hilarity ensues.

Squiggly somehow has a giant facility with other Dalek clones in Japan. Where the fuck did they come from!? Who knows -- and who cares.

The Doctor confronts Mr. Big and he's, like, "I'm 3D printing Dalek casings. It's cool, tho'. There's nothing inside of them. It's not, like, there's a facility in Osaka, Japan with a bunch of Dalek clones waiting to fill these up.

Speaking of which, Yaz and Jack are in Japan and they have a cringey convo about life with the Doctor. Rose and Sarah Jane's talk in 'School Reunion' this is not.

There's still 40 minutes to go.

After their heart to heart -- Yaz still has the audacity to insult Jack. She's fierce!

Anyways, guess what they find!? GUESS WHAT THEY FUCKING FIND!? The Dalek clone farm. Like, we weren't already shown this before. They even do a "Dun-Dun-Dun!" reveal fer this shit.

FUCK YOU, CHIBNALL.

• Facepalm.

Fer reasons unbeknownst to me the Doctor takes Mr. Big along to Japan -- you know, fer reasons. All the while, we cut to scenes of that one lady introducing Daleks to the public. No one still remembers series 2 and 4 -- or any other time Daleks have been on Earth.

At the same time, Jack and Yaz get attacked by a bunch of other Squigglies and I'm getting mad hentai vibes.

The Doctor, still back on the TARDIS, has a half hearted conversation with Ryan and tells hims it's, "Four minutes to Osaka" -- eventhough there's 50+ years of the TARDIS landing places INSTANTENOUSLY!

FUCK.

YOU.

CHIBNALL.

Ryan is, like, "Yea, I kinda prefer being back home than traveling in the TARDIS and seeing all of time and space. By the way, how'd 'The Timeless Children' go fer you?"

The Doctor is basically, like, "The less said about that -- the better." I tend to fucking agree.

Four minutes are up and Jack has and orgasm when he sees the TARDIS materialize eventhough he was just on it not too long ago.

• Git 'er Done.

Everyone's reunited along with Mr. Big as they confront mind controlled Curtis from 'Misfits'. We get more exposition as to how these Squigglies were cloned and what they eat. The big revelation is that they eat humans -- and I still can't be bothered to care.

Somehow the cloned Squigglies can teleport to those empty Dalek casings and proceed to wreck havoc to the masses. I will NEVER grow tired of Daleks massacaring people. "EXTERMINATE!"

(I finally have a non ironic smile on my face.)

Squiggly kills Curtis from 'Misfits' and the only one to give a shit is Mr. Big. The Doctor tries her best at a, "I am the Doctor and I save people!" speech which falls flat. She's got a plan, tho'!

She beeps up real Daleks -- and she's, like, "These REAL Daleks are gonna kill those fake Daleks! It's okay if they come -- fer REASONS they wont kill any humans. Just these fake Daleks. The story demands it."

• Invasion of the Dalek Snatchers.

We finally get the revolution in "Revolution of the Daleks". The real Daleks are, like, "Y'all, mother fuckers, are impure!" All the while, Mr. Big is, like, "I like these real Daleks. I wanna be friends with them -- you know, 'cause I'm a bad guy. Take me to yer leader." (That last bit was a direct quote.)

The boys leave the girls behind to go destroy the Dalek ship. We get some more poorly written dialogue.

Mr. Big tells the real Daleks about the Doctor -- which they should've been already privy to. Luckily, Jack informs the Doctor about Mr. big's treacherous ways and she's got another trick up her sleeve! All the while, Jack and the boys blow up the Dalek ship and the Doctor reveals her ruse. She sucked the Daleks into the spare TARDIS that Yaz was living in and has it collapse on itself.

Aren't TARDIS kind of, like, living creatures? They've been known to have a consciousness. Whatever.

• The Home Stretch.

Fer REASONS Mr. Big is considered a hero. Captain Jack is, like, "I'm out and I'm gonna go find my Torchwood friends. Fuck you guys."

Ryan is, like, "Yea, no more trips fer me either. I wanna stay home and play football with me mates and eat fish and chips." Graham agrees, too. So it's just Yaz and the Doctor now. I'm excited fer that potential porn parody.

Then we get a call back to 'The Girl Who Fell to Earth' and Ryan trying to ride a bike. I forgot that was a thing. They babble about facing off alien threats on Earth and fer other REASONS Grace shows up a, like, a fucking Jedi Force Ghost. 😂😭🤤

• The Good, the Bad and the Fugly.

The best I can say about this story is that Doctor Who, aesthetically, has never looked better. The Daleks inside and out were REALLY well done; and I fucking love the look of the TARDIS traveling through the time vortex. Unfortunately, that's it about it.

This was god awful. Maybe in time I can rewatch this in a it's so bad it's good capacity; but I won't be doing that any time soon. Chibnall has lost his goddamn mind.

Why is everyone so mean to Captain Jack!? I don't fucking get it. Graham and Ryan wanting to leave the TARDIS just 'cause they're, like, "Meh. It's been done.? Why is Mr. Big in this, at all!? Also, somebody fire that composer! I'm tired of his ambient noises.

Seriously, this was bad.

Zero stars.

[loftec]

Hi i don't know if anyone haven't ask you about it or i'm the only one who wants to read it but CAN YOU PLEASE SHARE YOUR NOTES (ch.44) i don't know if you were serious about that but i really would love to read them cause i'm obsessed with everything what is ntw related 🖤 hope ur well

Hi friend! It’s possibly just you (or one other person, in case of separate anons) but that is enough! I was absolutely serious. 

Note on the notes! This is not all of it, because my notes for this chapter were often repetitive and very messy, and some older notes were from four years ago when I didn’t bother writing things out properly, so they barely make sense even to me. But! I’ve done my best to sort everything in some kind of linear order, and removed most of the repetition. And, well, you asked for it... sorry! 🖤

Ian shows up in the morning, Mickey digs out the magazine Iggy stole from Amelia’s dentist’s office the other day and confronts Ian about the big-ass article in Rolling Stone about IAN’S BAND, says he’s listened to some of their songs, takes out a paper where he’s written down some lyrics that sound strangely familiar.

You’re famous!

I’m in a band, people know about us right now, tomorrow they might not. I’m not famous.

You’re kinda famous.

Ian talks about Mickey recognizing him because of Frank. Hints that there might be several songs inspired by Mickey. It’s awkward as fuck, didn’t want you to know.

Were you ever gonna tell me?

Oh yeah, I had a plan. 3 dates, dinner and a movie, day out with Yev, dinner at my place turned vigorous love-making. Second prong; cohabitation, engagement, marriage, then on our wedding night I tell you about crushing on Justin Timberlake when I was 12,

then I tell you I’m semi-famous, if it still applies.

Mickey thinks his face might be on fire.

What the?

I’m fucking with you, Mick. Figured you already knew.

This again?

You angry?

No, I’m not fucking angry. Just-

Freaked out.

Kinda, yeah.

You shouldn’t be. Please.

It’s weird that I didn’t know, I feel like a schmuck. (And I’m pretty sure by your count we’ve already been on those first two dates.)

I’m sorry. I thought you knew and by some fucking miracle didn’t treat me different. I’d been gearing up to maybe have to have this conversation on our date, ‘cause it’s shit sometimes, you know? I don’t do interviews and I never talk about myself when I gotta do them, but there’s still a limelight and a lot of bullshit that complicates

I’ve been crushing on you since we met basically, and I thought I’d just… let it run its course, keep my mouth shut about it and deal until it went away and we could remain friends without me fucking it up.

Didn’t work, by the way.

Good.

Mickey is talking about it with Etch, who suggests that Ian’s been writing at the diner for a reason.

Etch looks up some lyrics and Mickey caps locks them to Ian

You might have inspired a few lately…

Fuck off. How many?

Since we met? Pretty much all of them.

Maybe one or two made it on to the album, but I wrote those before we really got to know each other so they’re just like… about moments, and how I would feel around you.

Didn’t think of it as creepy but it kinda sounds that way now.

No it’s fine

I won’t do it again.

Said it’s fine. Kinda like it.

Yeah?

You gonna tell me which ones are about me, or is that a secret too?

What are you doing tonight?

Thought you said you were going on tour?

We are, it starts tonight. It’s a small fan club gig here in Chicago.

You have a fan club?

Kinda. I’ll put you on the guest list if you want to come.

(Mickey calls Svetlana to make sure Yevgeny can stay with her over the weekend.)

It’s fine if you don’t want to, we’ll do something else when I get back.

Calm your tits Gallagher, course I wanna go. Needed to make sure I’ve got Yev covered.

Oh okay, good. You’re on the list. Doors at 7, gig starts at 8, no support.

You’ve got no chill.

(Ian doesn’t answer for a while)

I like it.

Good, that was torture. Never doing that again.

(Etch teases him about having his nose in his phone, and makes him aware of new guests arriving)

Gotta get back to work

Yeah, me too. See you tonight?

No chill at all.

Ian invites him to the concert and gives Mickey his phone number. Mickey makes sure Yevgeny stays with his mom on saturday, and after work he goes home and gets ready. Showers and cleans himself thoroughly, puts on cologne and a band t-shirt he hasn’t worn in ages, it’s gotten kinda tight on him since he got it. (He puts on a dress shirt first, tucks it into his pants and glares at his reflection).

He’s on the guest list when he gets there, the girl in the box office can’t find him at first but then Anne shows up and points him out, he’s on the VIP list and gets a pass that he’s told he needs to carry so it’s visible. He makes a point of shoving it in the admission guy’s face, but then shoves the ostentatious thing down the pocket of his jeans. Anne shows him in and tells him about the gig, about how the fan club got started. Anne says he can go backstage but he says he’ll pass, thank you. He gets a beer and finds a good spot, there’s a balcony halfway through the venue where he’s got a perfect view of the stage without having to stand in the front.

They text a little, Mickey says he’s there and Ian says he’ll make a sign when they play a song inspired by him.

run-through of the concert, Ian touches the side of his nose when the song is about Mickey. He’s sexy as fuck, and has some ridiculous stripper moves.

He takes off his hoodie at some point, and sweating through his tank he and Anne put on gloves and start hitting the barrels with crowbars.

Anne is the maestro, maybe Ian crowd surfs at some point? Warren Ellis that violin, man. He has little routines with Anne, and some with Jon too. One song, Anne gets one of his guitars and he does noisy stuff with his violin and plays on the oil barrels with Stran, completely in sync.  

They got some good stage banter going, and at some point Ian does a Tom Waits impression, and Anne groans and says he’ll sing the whole thing if they’re not careful. There’s a reason why he’s

For the encore, Ian touches the side of his nose and they start playing a song, Anne saying that this is a first. It looks like Ian is about to sing, but then it looks like he changes his mind and they start playing a song that Mickey sure as fuck hope isn’t about him. The insufferable man on a date right next to Mickey tells the woman he’s with that they were about to play the mysterious title track from their last album that never ended up on the record

“it’s derivative, but cute”

how can it be a title track if it’s not on the album

the guy talks about how he’s got a friend working as an engineer in the studio and he’s sent him an early demo version. It’s not their best song by far, but it’s cool that pretty much no one else has heard it.

Mickey asks the girl if she’s ok with this joker, and she says she’s fine. He offers to get her a cab or something, if she wants to get out of there.

She says she’s not interested

Lady, if I wanted to get with either of you, it wouldn’t be you. Just sayin, I ain’t picky, but that guy would’ve gotten the boot ten minutes into the date if he were here with me, no offense.

WHAT IF.

The concert is over, and crowd starts to let up. Then a fight breaks out at the front and Mickey makes his way towards it. It’s over before he gets there, and sees a guy in his 40s with a bleeding nose, and Lip shaking out his fist, a security guard between them.

Mickey talks to the guard and defuses the situation, putting the bleeding man in the position of a sad overzealous fan. It somehow warms Lip to him, absurdly, and he finds himself apologized to, Lip shaking his hand and wincing when Mickey grips his bruised knuckles a little too hard. Lip vaguely explains that that was an old ex of Ian’s, a real piece of work, and then offers Mickey to come backstage with them to see Ian. Mickey declines.

It’s Lip, Carl and Debbie (Liam is too young, and Fiona too pregnant).

“I was drunk, and wrong, and when I’m wrong I say I’m wrong. (IT’S FROM DIRTY DANCING YOU LITERALLY FORGET EVERY TIME AND HAVE TO GOOGLE IT WHENEVER READING THIS NOTE should I really be quoting Baby’s dad in this fic? Probably. If anyone can, it’s Lip.) And Ian tells me you’ve been there for him a lot lately

I wouldn’t say that

But he did, he doesn’t tell me a lot these days, but he told me that.

Mickey gets another beer at the bar as people mill towards the merch and exit, he sits on a stool with an eye on the backstage passage. He watches the band come out to talk to some of the lingering fans and sign shit. Ian comes out and is immediately surrounded by fans, he locks eyes with Mickey across the room and Mickey raises his beer in a silent cheers. Ian comes up to him after a few minutes, he looks damp and exhilarated and unexpectedly nervous,

How was it?

Not bad, Gallagher.

he asks Mickey over. He has to pack up his shit and do the rounds, but he’ll be done in half an hour, tops. Mickey says he’ll meet him outside.

Ian leaves and Mickey finishes his beer, watching Ian talk to some fans, signing shit and taking pictures. He goes for a piss and then goes out for a smoke.

Ian comes out after twenty minutes, carrying two guitar cases and a large wheelie-bag. Mickey takes one of the guitars off his hands and they walk together.

(maybe Ian has a banjo and he gives it to Mickey to carry and Mickey is all really? I wanna kick your ass so bad right now, country boy, but then carries it anyway.) (banjos are cool)

Walk from the club. Mickey mentions talking to Lip. They talk about Ian’s Tom Waits impression. You’re not musically illiterate at all! Talk about Mickey’s Radiohead tee that he stole from a hookup when he was sixteen, he’s grown into it now. Talk about Ian’s onstage dancing, used to be a stripper, well, not saying you can’t still do private performances (?? you know what I mean! this is not what they’re saying but you’ll remember it) (Note from 2020: I DID NOT REMEMBER IT.)

Talk about wanting to learn playing the trumpet. Don’t have trumpet playing lips.

”Sure you and your lips can do whatever you set your heart to, I believe in you.”

Looks at Mickey and smiles.

”What?”

”You’ve been flirting with me since we first met, haven’t you?”

”Maybe.”

”Huh”

“What?”

“Oh nothing.” “Just re-evaluating everything you’ve ever said to me.”

”Re-evaluate this;” gives Ian the finger.

”That an invitation?”

”Fuck you is what it is,”

“sounds like an invitation.”

Ian tells him a little about his different instruments, Mickey picks up the beat up guitar Gus first gave to Ian and strums it, Ian asks him to play him something but Mickey snorts and says he’s counting on getting laid tonight and him playing would be detrimental to that plan. Ian doesn’t think so, but accepts it when Mickey gives him the guitar.

”I’ve walked some thousand miles,” he starts softly, eyes on his left hand, moving over the strings, ”I have slept many hundred nights, and people’ve said hello and bye through the years since you were mine. But don’t think I’ll stop my mourning, don’t I know it’s overdue. Just because I’ve gotten older, none the wiser I cry for you.”

”Honey, cutie, sweetie-pie,” ”My darling boy, sweet old times, as long as I keep you in mind I will remember what love is like. So, don’t think I’ll stop my mourning, don’t I know it’s overdue.”

”Just because I’ve gotten older, none the wiser.”

”I cry for you.”

I’M THINKING OF WRITING MY OWN SONG BECAUSE I WAS THIS MOMENT TO BE MORE BEFORE SUNSET THAN ANYTHING, ALL SMILES AND DRAMA FREE. SO MAYBE A TEXT THAT IS A LITTLE MORE STRAIGHTFORWARD.

Ian plays the song and when he’s done, Mickey kisses him and they have really enthusiastic sex on the couch. Mickey is about to leave after when Ian invites him to stay,

How about some long-ass foreplay on the couch and then they move into the bedroom.

They start on the couch, they take it to the bedroom, they collapse on the bed after and Mickey is feeling too good to argue when Ian mumbles at him to “stay”.

(Sings the song, says it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a song, it’s one quick thought put under a spotlight. Feeling like he should have known Mickey his whole life already. It’s too much, isn’t it? In the kitchen.

”do you normally take guys home and serenade them?”

”nah, don’t think it’d be very effective with most.”

”But you figured I’d swoon?”

”Figured you’d want the truth.”

”which is?”)

??? Need to find a good mix of excitement and new and easy, balanced with ho shit wtf are we doing this isn’t going to end well i think i fucking love him shut the fuck up. needs to be sexy and a little rough, as well as painfully sincere against better knowledge. kissing will do that. they’re doing stuff the way they usually do stuff, but for some reason it feels completely different.

Important that Mickey kisses him.

They stand up and stand chest to chest, Ian says they don’t have to do anything, Mickey says shut up and get naked

he helps ian take his shirt off and kisses him the second his face comes back into view

They fucks on the couch.

OR ALT FADE CUT END and don’t go explicit. Just saying, it’s an option. A valid option.

They can go at it in one of the sequels? Like the roadtrip can be more explicit? If I want? But also not?

I mean, there is such a thing as a nice middle ground right.

I just don’t think I’m interested in going all out porn after 40+ chapters of whatever.

THEY KISS AND THEN THERE’S A MOTHERFUCKING FADE TO BLACK MY FRIEND, BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT I HAVE DECIDED. Soz

WHAT IF!!

Iggy comes in, is all: guess what I found at the dentist this morning?

M: again? Did Amelia break another tooth?

I: It’ll grow back, take a look at this

E: Did you steal that from the dentist’s office?

M: Rolling Stone, wtf?

E: your dentist’s got rolling stone?

Mickey reads the headlines out loud as a customer comes in and asks Etch about something they’ve lost the other day, and Etch starts rifling through boxes behind the counter as Mickey moves over to sit down in Ian’s booth, rifling through the magazine.

M: what am I looking for?

I: I marked the page

E: what’s this note?

Mickey starts reading the article, realizing that the blurred picture is of Ian, and the interview is with Ian, and holy shit. Ian is legit famous.

Etch starts reading the list of coffees, eventually turning the page over and pointing out that there’s a phone number.

Iggy comes to the diner in the morning, Etch is rifling through stuff behind the counter and Mickey is doing the rounds with the few guests still there after the morning rush.

Iggy shows him the magazine he found at the dentist’s and Etch is in the background like wtf is this, reading from Ian’s note with the coffee orders, Mickey only half listens, trying to take in the fact that Ian is fucking famous.

Etch says there’s a phone number too and Mickey brushes him off.

Then he’s like, hold the fuck up! And gets the note from the trash and tries the number, and Ian fucking answers. And they have the you’re famous conversation on the phone and voila, Mickey has his number and vice versa.

So Mickey calls Ian in the morning, then there’s text talk during the day.

From Ian

So, you’ve had my number for x days and you only now decided to use it?

That’s cold.

From Mickey

You wrote it on a piece of paper you then balled up and threw on the floor, asshole, it’s a miracle it didn’t end up in the trash. didn’t know I had it until this morning.

You suck at this. (This is a nice revelation that he likes, but Maybe that doesn’t come across in text.

Not a complaint btw, just gleeful observation.

From Ian

Are we still on?

From Mickey

Of course.

Dumbass.

Ian

I probably deserved that.

At some point Mickey starts capslocking and sending lyrics to Ian, who has to explain through text why he’s written songs about Mickey, saying that he’ll point them out tonight.

HERE’S A QUESTION

SHOULD I SKIP THE WHOLE “WRITING SONGS ABOUT MICKEY” BUSINESS??

Isn’t it enough that Ian is famous and kept this fact from Mickey? Isn’t the writing songs business a little creepy? and if he did write songs about Mickey, would he really publish them without Mickey’s consent? No. Maybe I’m deliriously tired and about to fall ill right now, but I actually think I should skip that part. It’s a little sad because it’s been part of this idea for three years, but if I’m uncertain about it now imagine how I’m going to feel about it later?

When I started writing this story, it was supposed to be a quick and silly thing, and now it’s something else. It’s not important or anything, but also it is. To me. And making a decision on the rating was a big deal for me, and I think this is another one of those things. I’ve been holding on to this idea for so long but when I really think about it, is it even romantic? It’s romantic in that kind of teenage dream way, maybe? It’s more romantic to me if they fall in love for reasons other than Ian writing songs. But he’s written NTW, and he still thinks about performing it live, but we skip the whole thing about songs being about Mickey.

So they talk on the phone in the morning, and then there’s a text coming in after a little while asking if Mickey wants to come to the show.

HEYHO IT’S A REVOLUTION AND I FEEL FREE

Mickey and Ian text after the show (after Mickey declines going backstage) Ian asks him to meet him round back in twenty minutes. When Mickey goes out there, he sees Ian talking to a couple of fans by the bus and Mickey hangs back to smoke while he waits. The fans leave and Ian looks around, checks his watch, he has a bunch of guitars with him.

I AM LEANING HEAVILY TOWARDS MICKEY KISSING IAN HERE. He’s like “Stop, hold this” giving Ian back the guitar, so he can grab on to him and kiss him, smiling against Ian lips as the guitar tips over and clatters against the asphalt.

They’re outside Ian’s house, Ian says he has to get up at an unholy hour tomorrow. Invites him in anyway.

They’re in the elevator, then they’re in Ian’s apartment. Ian plays him the song, Before sunset ending.

almost none of that rhymed, just letting you know. kinda embarrassing.

(almost none of that rhymed, just letting you know. kinda embarrassing.

yeah, it’s not a very good song. is why we cut it from the record

oh yeah? thought it was ‘cause of the like, intensely personal subject

that too)

They smile at each other like fools and Mickey feels like he is exactly where he’s supposed to be, and there’s no rush. Fade to black.

Etch finds the paper, says there’s a phone number on it. Mickey dials the number and goes out back as it rings out. When Ian answers, he reads a question from the interview and they talk.

He goes back into the diner and basically blows the whole thing off, it doesn’t make any difference to him and he has to go back to work. Yevgeny does his homework and Iggy leaves, and Ian invites Mickey to the gig via text. Etch invites Yevgeny to stay over at theirs for a movie night.

Does Mickey tell Yev about the gig?

Start with Mickey out back, smoking. The phone rings and he waits for Etch to take it, but it keeps ringing. He bangs the door and yells PHONE and then it stops ringing. He kills the cigarette and goes back inside. Etch is behind the counter talking on the phone and going through the lost and found, looking for whatever the caller has lost. Mickey clears a table. It’s afternoon. Etch hangs up but keeps going through stuff in the box, talking to Mickey, when Iggy comes in.

It’s maybe more like afternoon (?) when Iggy comes in and shows Mickey the magazine. He calls Ian and they have a quick conversation (he probably goes outside to have it, to escape his audience) and they establish that Ian is sorta famous. Then they text back and forth a little, until Ian invites him to the show.

Mickey calls Svet to arrange it so Yev can stay with her, and then accepts. He goes home after work to eat, have a shower and change out of his clothes. He wears the only band tee he owns, mostly because it’s funny and because it’s kinda tight and he doesn’t think he looks too bad in it (and a dress shirt is way too much for a concert not-date, not that he tried on a couple first. Then he does a little bit of cyberstalking only to find very little personal information and a lot of crazy fans. Maybe he watches a couple of music videos, but they’re all really weird cartoons so they give him nothing. They’re cool though, and guess the music’s alright, even though he doesn’t have a connection yet to it so it’s hard to tell if he likes it.

Yevgeny calls, because Mickey switched the days and he wants to know why. Mickey asks if he knows about the Broken Bells, and Yev’s like duh who doesn’t? And freaks out when Mickey tells him about Ian. He doesn’t tell him about the whole date situation though, just that he’s going to the concert. Maybe Yev asks for some merch.

Mickey takes an Uber to the venue, even though it’s not too far from the diner (but on the other side, so at least a 30 minute walk) and it seems like they’ve already started letting people in. He hangs back until the admissions office is clear and then tells the lady that he’s on some kinda guest list. She can’t find him, and he’s about to give up and go home when he sees a familiar figure in the background. He calls her Stay-puft first, but then also remembers that her name is Anne and calls her that too. She remembers him, and finds him on a different (VIP) list, the venue staff woman is embarrassed, but Anne is borderline flirting she’s so nice about the mistake. Mickey gets a pass that he’s supposed to keep around his neck, but he shows it to the guards and then tucks it down his back pocket. Anne shows him inside the venue and asks if he wants to come backstage and say hello, but he kindly declines.

He has a quick peruse of the merch table (he checks the CDs, and then sees a smaller table next to the merch with a guy handing out pins, Mickey talks to him and finds out that it’s “fan club” pins to commemorate the gig and Mickey asks if his VIP pass gets him one, it does, and then the guy asks if Mickey wants to sign up for the newsletter) and then gets a beer, before finding a good spot on the mezzanine floor. He’s got a balcony railing for support and beer holder, and he’s got an excellent view of the stage. The floor is filling up with people packing themselves against the front. He texts Ian saying he’s here and they text a little back and forth. He gets someone to watch his spot and goes to the restroom. There, he finds a kid getting cornered by a middle-aged man. The kid looks vaguely familiar and not older than sixteen. Mickey steps in and casually accuses the guy of creeping on a kid and the guy immediately backs off, the kid says thanks and that he’s eighteen (because it’s an 18+ gig) and Mickey says sure.

Getting back to his spot, There is a douchebag on a date behind him that he wants to move away from, but he doesn’t want to surrender his good spot. He decides to tune him out, he’ll hopefully shut up once the set starts. It’s just a couple of minutes after eight when the lights dim and a song comes on louder than before, and the band start coming out on the stage. Ian is wearing jeans and a hoodie, like he normally does, but he’s clean shaven and his normally smiling face is set in blank determination. Anne is the front person, and she commands the audience with the slightest gesture. It’s obvious that the venue is filled with old fans, they all know exactly what to do exactly when she asks them to do it. Ian’s got like four guitars and a whole lot of other shit around him, and he’s super focused on doing his stuff, but now and then he does little routines with Anne and Jon, and gets a big cheer for his occasional solos.

A few songs in, Ian gets up to stand on one of the oil barrels, and Anne starts banging on it with a crowbar. That’s when Mickey starts to really get into it. It’s cool, and it’s a lot harder than Ian made it out to be, but kind of theatrical at the same time. Ian is brilliant, even though he dances like an uncoordinated stripper.

There is banter between the songs, mainly between Anne and Stran (girl sure bangs those drums!) Anne starts banging one of the oil barrels again and Ian and Jon do a little step dance next to each other across the scene.

At some point Ian takes off his hoodie. He’s wearing a white tank and he’s already sweating through it. He gives his guitar to Anne and puts on gloves. Him and Stran do a little bant-y thing and then they start a new song by both banging the barrels in unison while Anne and Jon start playing (maybe Jon plays something else, like an electric piano or a marimba?). At the crescendo of the song, Ian takes out a baseball bat and goes to town on the barrel, sweat shining on his muscly arms and his wet hair flopping down his forehead.

They go off the stage, but come back when the crowd chants a song, stomping their feet and clapping their hands. Anne says they’ve got one more song for them, and they start playing. She moves away from the microphone and it looks for a second like Ian is going to step up and sing. Douchebag behind Mickey tells his date about an unreleased b-side to the last album. But then Ian steps back and says something to Stran, who nods and moves into a slightly different beat. Without blinking Anne, steps back up to the mic and sings the last song.

Some of the crowd lingers by the stage after the lights have gone back on, but most move towards the bar or the merch table. Mickey hangs back to watch the crew take down the stage, and the two oil barrels being handed over to someone in the audience, along with set lists and left-over picks. Walking down from the mezzanine floor to go look for the restrooms, a fight breaks out on the floor. Mickey immediately recognizes one of them as Lip and the other one as the creep from the bathroom, and intervenes by clearly positioning himself on Lip’s side and reminding the creep that he could get him in trouble, the creep backs off and agrees when Mickey tells the security guards it was an accident (in a way that isn’t obviously helpful, but in the end still makes sure that Lip isn’t hurt or arrested for punching a guy) (because he did, he punched a guy, who is thrown out by the guards after Mickey’s intervention). Lip, Carl, Debbie, and Liam is there, but it’s only Lip who knows who Mickey is. He hangs back to talk to Mickey while his siblings go backstage (and PROBABLY DOESN’T tell him a little bit about the guy being Ian’s ex, making it clear that Lip really doesn’t like him). He also apologizes to Mickey for last time. He asks if Mickey wants to go backstage, but Mickey declines. He’s decided earlier with Ian through text that he’ll wait for him and thinks it’s better to do it somewhere that isn’t backstage where he might get asked questions and have to talk to people who aren’t Ian.

He gets another beer and stands in the bar next to the merch, watching as Ian and the rest of the band come out to sign some stuff and shake hands. Ian still looks slightly damp from sweat, even though he’s obviously changed clothes and run a towel through his hair. Mickey wonders if his skin tastes like salt. He drinks his beer.

Ian comes up to him after a little while, asking well? (or texts him, which probably makes more sense? But I also want Mickey to see Ian post-show)

Not bad Gallagher, not bad at all.

Ian looks pleased and asks if Mickey wants to come over, even though Ian has an early morning. Mickey says yes and Ian asks him to wait until they’re done packing up.

Mickey finishes his beer, goes to the restroom (where he sees douchebag by the urinal) and then he goes outside to wait for Ian. (He talks to douchebag’s date and offers to get her a taxi before the guy comes out.) He smokes a cigarette, and before he knows it, Ian is by his side, carrying a fuck ton of guitars. They decide to walk, for some reason, talking on the way.

HEY

Ian says he’s got a car coming and they walk a little bit to where they’re getting picked up. They talk about trumpet lips and stuff and Mickey kisses him. They get interrupted by the car arriving, and Ian picks up his guitars and says “you coming?”

Fuck yes

They sit in silence in the car, but it’s a good one. Ian says

Lip told me what you did back there.

He didn’t tell you shit.

He did, told me you stepped in and stopped him from getting arrested

He was getting his ass kicked, someone had to help the guy

And Liam told me you got him out of a tough situation in the restroom

That was Liam? Some pedo’s creeping on a kid by the urinal, I’m not gonna stand by doing nothing.

You know that’s not what happened

Yeah, well, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

He isn’t a pedo, and Lip would’ve beat the shit outta him if you hadn’t stepped in.

You defending this guy?

No, trying to say thanks.

You’re shit at it.

Thank you, Mickey

Better.

So… friend of yours.

No. (Ian isn’t forthcoming with the info)

Alright, whatever.

And he’s definitely not someone I wanna talk about, tonight.

(Ian is smiling at him, all the promise in the world in his eyes)

Fucking fair enough.

They arrive.

OR Ian joins Mickey outside and they stand around and talk

They talk about Ian’s Tom Waits impression. You’re not musically illiterate at all! Talk about Mickey’s Radiohead tee that he stole from a hookup when he was sixteen, he’s grown into it now. Talk about Ian’s onstage dancing, used to be a stripper, well, not saying you can’t still do private performances (?? you know what I mean! this is not what they’re saying but you’ll remember it)

Talk about wanting to learn playing the trumpet. Don’t have trumpet playing lips.

”Sure you and your lips can do whatever you set your heart to, I believe in you.”

Looks at Mickey and smiles.

”What?”

”You’ve been flirting with me since we first met, haven’t you?”

”Maybe.”

”Huh”

“What?”

“Oh nothing.” “Just re-evaluating everything you’ve ever said to me.”

”Re-evaluate this;” gives Ian the finger.

”That an invitation?”

”Fuck you is what it is,”

“sounds like an invitation.”

That’s when a taxi pulls up and Ian walks toward it

Could use some help with these.

They ride in silence

They carry Ian’s instruments from the car, and Ian says something cute

Mickey’s like “Stop, hold this” giving Ian back the guitar, so he can grab on to him and kiss him, smiling against Ian lips as the guitar tips over and clatters on the asphalt.

They’re outside Ian’s house, Ian says he has to get up at an unholy hour tomorrow. Invites him in anyway.

There he asks Ian to play him something that other people don’t get to hear (mostly to be a cheeky monkey, but also because he wants it) and Ian plays him None the wiser.

I’ve walked a thousand miles to end up in your corner booth

Grinning idiot when you bitch, falling fool for your dirty mouth

Sitting on my busy hands when you swagger by and I say -

Hey waiter, pour some coffee in my cup and bring me my toast, before you fuck me up

I’ve been in some thousand fights and it’s clear that so have you, too

Faded threats and cigarettes, sharp glass polished by the sea

Wish you’d put your hands on me and make your feelings clear

Hey waiter

meet me ‘round the back door, tell me I’ve got it wrong and fuck me up some more

‘Cause I’ve fallen a thousand times but never felt this way before, like I should have met you long ago

Walked with you by my side and had your back through thick and thin

Sickness and health, come what may, and I say-

Hey waiter

pop the damn champagne

None the wiser

you fuck me up again

Hey waiter

tell me you’ll be mine

I’ll give you my life

and fuck you up in kind

I wish I was just a plain white shirt

then you could wear me off to work

and I’d be one of the things you keep close to your heart

soft white cotton wrapped around your heart

(Contrasts have faded now

but color still haunt my mind

And words ripped off from their lines

Make bitter tears flood my eyes

Don’t think I’ll stop my mourning

Don’t I know it’s overdue

Just because I’ve gotten older

None the wiser, I cry for you)

Honey, cutie, sweetie-pie

My darling boy, sweet old times

As long as I keep you in mind

I will remember what love is like

So, don’t think I’ll stop my mourning

Don’t I know it’s overdue

Just because I’ve gotten older

None the wiser, I cry for you

’Cause I always say ’I love you’

when I mean ’turn out the light’

And I say ’let’s run away’

when I just mean ’stay the night’

But the words you want to hear

you will never hear from me

I’ll never say ’happy anniversary’

Never stay to say ’happy anniversary’

Bom-chaka bom-chak 23 verses

And he climbed up a mountain

And he looked around

Some kind of forest

With all these dinosaurs

And he stripped his woman

He stripped her bare

But there was a pterodactyl

There!

[punkscowardschampions]

Savannah & Jac

Savannah: How is it going? Savannah: I'm so proud of you for working at this with her, I just wanted you to know that Jac: 😖 ugh, THANK YOU 🙏 Jac: I'm really trying Jac: and she's being a LOT better today Jac: more like herself Jac: she still hasn't said what's really going on, but maybe she isn't even sure herself, you know? 😕 Jac: we'll get to the bottom of it Jac: how are you, honey? ❤ Savannah: 🙌🏾 I'm BEYOND happy for you both 🙌🏾 Savannah: Ty is being more like himself too, today must be fated Savannah: it's such a relief, isn't it? Jac: I am BEYOND glad Jac: I do not know what was in the water but we can both finally breathe out so that's the main thing Savannah: I know right?! I feel more centred than I have in forever Jac: It's nice not to be so stressed Jac: I had no idea the tension I was holding, honestly Savannah: Baby 😔 Savannah: I had an idea but there's been no time to give you a massage, we're always working Jac: and I love it Jac: but other people still demanding time we don't have now is like Jac: 😬 Savannah: ^^ so true Savannah: I feel like I constantly have to choose between Sienna & Ty Jac: Right? There's always someone to be let down Savannah: excuse me whilst I essentially tear myself in half & still manage to somehow hurt either of you more in the process Jac: 😔 Jac: Ty should really learn a little more self-sufficiency in this situation Jac: like Amelia Jac: Sienna, that's different Jac: but you two are in a partnership, that's meant to make things easier, not harder Savannah: it's my own fault, I love him so much that I can't help but make everything easier for him even if it means things are harder for me as a direct result Jac: he's still meant to return the favour Savannah: & he does, he just doesn't always realise exactly what I do need, which is my fault too Jac: I can't see that Jac: you're beyond communicative Jac: and when you're not, that means there's a problem Savannah: Honesty is important but so is maintaining the image he has of me, I cultivated it, I can't just let it go when it's not as effortless as it looks Jac: but you, actually you, are perfect Jac: if he didn't love you for all of you, he'd be just Jac: wrong Savannah: No I'm not Jac: Not like you have no flaws or can do no wrong Jac: but you're so caring and loving and you'll do anything for anyone, especially the people you care about Jac: and even at your lowest, you still try to keep positive, and see the way out and forward Jac: and when you do make mistakes, it's because of all of these things about you that are so amazing Savannah: You're perfect, I don't even know what to say or what response would come close Jac: I'm far from it Jac: I do things sometimes, just to be cruel because I feel bad Jac: I try not to but I still do Jac: and I don't look after anyone the way you do Savannah: you look after me Savannah: & Isabelle & Amelia Savannah: we all take so much from you & you never complain because you're too busy giving us more of you Savannah: that makes me feel bad Jac: You shouldn't feel bad, you give me so much back too Jac: when you're already stretched Jac: and it doesn't feel anything like work with you Jac: it's natural, easy Jac: but still worthwhile Savannah: It's the same for me, with you, everything else may feel like a demand on my time or a stressful obligation, but that's not how I feel about you Jac: that makes me happy to hear that Jac: I swear, other people didn't used to feel like this much work Savannah: I don't know why it's so different Savannah: why you're the only person who sees through who I have to be to who I actually am Jac: It's like Jac: I feel a million miles or years or lives ahead of everyone else but you Jac: it's not even arrogance I just Jac: they don't get it Savannah: ^^^^ Savannah: it's exhausting Jac: trying to be on their level, care about what they care about Jac: when there's so much more important things to be thinking or doing Jac: I'm really struggling Savannah: what can I do? Jac: See? 🥺 Jac: this is why I love you Jac: I just wanna be with you again, then we'll both feel better and like this world actually makes sense Savannah: where has she even taken you? I'll come & get you right now Jac: we hung out most of the day and just chilled but we've gone out for dinner, [a place] Savannah: okay, I'll be there once the bill hits the table Savannah: come out when you're ready Jac: Okay, that's not an issue, we're near mine, ish, so I didn't need a lift from her dad or anything Savannah: I'll wait for you at home then Jac: That's so cute Jac: imagine how perfect our Uni flat will be Savannah: 😊 Savannah: I'll make a start on my moodboard Jac: we can do a dream shop when I get back Savannah: oh my god, we have to Savannah: but I promise I'll FINALLY give you that massage too, because I have no doubt your goodbye with Amelia will be stressful Jac: At least she can't ask for a sleepover reasonably when it's Monday tomorrow Jac: because yeah Jac: I cannot when a massage is on offer 😍👼🏾 Savannah: I can though, can't I? Savannah: I don't ever want to leave you, but especially not to go back to my house Jac: Of course you can Jac: we'll be sensible so we can still get up in the morning Savannah: 👼🏾 I swear Jac: I trust you Jac: I got a new night-time tea, it's really relaxing, you'll ❤ it Savannah: that sounds amazing, I've been having the most intense dreams when I do sleep Jac: at least your brain is processing everything and storing it away Jac: even if that's exhausting Jac: you'll be having sweet dreams so soon Jac: but in the meantime, I'll do everything I can to help Savannah: this is literally the evidence that you're as caring & loving & positive as you believe I am Savannah: I don't even dream when I'm with Ty, which I used to think was a nice thing, because I felt so safe but now it just feels like I switch off when he doesn't need me Jac: oh 😔 I don't love that Savannah: It sounds horrible, I know Savannah: & it would kill him to hear me say so Jac: No, it's not horrible, it's how you feel Savannah: he hasn't given me any reason to feel like that though, it's my crazy Jac: not on purpose, I'm sure Savannah: What have you noticed? You can tell me Jac: Well, even if doesn't ask you to prioritize him and his happiness at all times Jac: he still lets you Jac: I'm sure he doesn't realize but it still happens Savannah: oh Jac: like, I'm not having a go at him, or you, because you know you do it and you know why Jac: but he really SHOULD be thinking more about it, you Savannah: of course Jac: I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything Savannah: I asked for your perspective because I need it, you have nothing to apologise for Savannah: & you're right Savannah: I just don't know what to do about it Jac: I don't want to sound like THAT friend Jac: he's great, in lots of ways Jac: but I couldn't say I hadn't noticed, when I had, it would be a disservice to you both Jac: it needs to be brought to his attention somehow, but outright saying it would probably feel...cruel? Savannah: I understand & I totally trust in the kind of friend I know you are Jac: ❤❤ Jac: We will work this out Jac: but we need time to 💭 on it Savannah: We need a time out from it first, the last thing I want to do is bring your stress levels back up after you've finally had a break through with Amelia Savannah: I refuse to be THAT friend Jac: we don't need to think about it any more tonight Jac: we can just think about our future and how amazing it will be Savannah: thank god I still have the ability to look forward without my future solely depending upon him Jac: ^^ no matter what, we're never those kind of girls Savannah: 👏🏾🙌🏾 Jac: I've text my parents so they won't be shook to see you Jac: not that they are these days 🥰 Savannah: I'll pick them something up to thank them as well when I get your presents for you Jac: Presents? for me? Savannah: 🥰 surprises, yes Jac: you're the best surprise Jac: I didn't think we'd get to see each other today Savannah: I wasn't sure if we'd even get chance to talk properly Jac: I know Jac: and I hate that Jac: I worry about you when we can't keep in touch Savannah: I hate the idea of you worrying about me, but I feel the exact same way Savannah: I dread to think how awful I'll have done on my homework because I couldn't stop thinking about you Jac: you're too smart to ever mess up too bad Jac: but we can doublecheck 😋 Savannah: what your compliments do for my self worth they don't do for my concentration span, so whilst the offer to check my work is appreciated, I'm not sure how well it'd be received Savannah: unless I'm sitting there with my eyes closed & you're in silence Jac: I think I can manage stunned silence in your presence quite easily Jac: we can make it work Savannah: you really do have an answer for everything, I love that about you Jac: it's easy to be sure with you Savannah: I wish we could be together all the time, there wouldn't be any room for doubt for me then either Jac: so rude of my parents to overdo it with the kids 🙄 Savannah: so rude of my parents to exist if they were going to use that existence to destroy everything they built, including my faith, trust & sense of security Savannah: if they were better people you could just stay here Jac: I don't know how it doesn't break their hearts Jac: and make them change and be better Jac: because I can't 😢 Savannah: they'd have to heal from the heartbreak they inflicted upon each other first & they have a lot of work to do before that'll happen Savannah: my mother doesn't have anything left for me & my dad doesn't have anything to offer that I want Jac: So true Jac: inherited trauma is the hardest Jac: and I don't have an answer for that, I really, really wish I did Savannah: you are an answer to that Savannah: you make me feel like I did before any of this happened Jac: I'm going to take care of you Jac: and the you that's still that little girl Savannah: we used to be so close, me & my dad Savannah: I don't understand how he could do this Jac: Even if he didn't love your mum anymore, in the way he did before Jac: the way he's handled it all Savannah: I would literally move heaven & earth to make things work with Ty, do anything to avoid hurting him, under no illusion that we're unlikely to be together forever Savannah: he can't have ever loved her, me or Sienna Jac: He must have thought it would have hurt MORE to stay Jac: I'm not saying he's right, or it excuses it Savannah: maybe it would Jac: I just really think he does love you guys Jac: and that doesn't have to change how you think or feel about him, at all, and that's not why I would say it Jac: the situation is still the same Jac: but it's rare the intentions are that bad, people do what they think is right, or they do the wrong thing out of hurt, like your mum right now Savannah: I know you want that for me, for me to be loved, I love you for it Jac: You are loved, by lots of people Jac: me being the chief one, of course Savannah: I'm trying so hard to remind myself that he isn't his mistakes but I can't forgive them when his actions make me feel like I am one of said mistakes Savannah: & my mum reinforces that every time she can't bear to look at me Jac: I can't begin to imagine how hurtful that is Jac: and how much that must occupy your head, and how hard you must have to fight every day to not be consumed by those thoughts and feelings Jac: all I can and will continue to do is be here for you, whenever and in whatever capacity you need Savannah: all my life she's told me how beautiful I am, but now all that matters is how much I resemble him Savannah: what am I supposed to do? Jac: You're still beautiful Jac: and you're always going to look like him Jac: do you want to change your appearance? Savannah: No, but I want to be able to look at myself in the mirror again without feeling as awful as I do when my mum tells me to get out of her room Jac: just because she's the victim in her narrative with your dad Jac: doesn't mean she's not also capable of perpetuating unhealthy behaviour Jac: that isn't okay, to make you feel like that Savannah: I know, but she's incapable of having a conversation about it right now, medicated or not Jac: Does your aunt have any more luck with her? Jac: or can you vent to your aunt about her? Savannah: I can but that doesn't mean I feel comfortable doing it Jac: That makes sense Jac: there's always the uncertainty of where the information will end up, or if any judgment is silently being passed Savannah: ^^ Savannah: you're the only person I want to talk to Jac: we can stay up and talk Jac: School can be completed with one eye shut Jac: this is more important right now Savannah: we have to talk about you too, it's always me Jac: Okay, I can always call upon all my problems at any time Savannah: for instance, where is Jude going to be when we're having this deep & meaningful conversation? Jac: Cammie is at her mum's, Jude can take her bed Jac: I'll take the heat if Cam is mad about it Savannah: okay Jac: I'll make them share full-time and then you can move in Jac: sorted Savannah: & when I move in, I'll take the puppies to bed with us & take the blame if your parents are upset Jac: they can't talk Jac: they give it all that about training and rules and boundaries Jac: but there was always a dog in the bed when we used to sneak in in the morning as kids Savannah: 😄 Savannah: I can't wait to have a family like yours Jac: How many kids do you want? Jac: or more importantly, puppies? 😋 Savannah: More than 👶🏾👶🏾 obviously Savannah: & they'll each have their own 🐶 or 🐱 or both however many of them there are Jac: Aww, that's sweet Jac: I think two can be kind of perfect Jac: but they have to be the right two Savannah: so is that how many you want? Jac: I don't think much about that part of my future Jac: I don't know if I'd be a good parent Savannah: Well you have to, because who else are my 👶🏾👶��👶🏾👶🏾 going to be best friends with? Isabelle's children? I don't think so Jac: 😂😂 okay, fair point Jac: we cannot have that Savannah: & of course you're going to be 🧚🏻 godmother to them all because I can't trust anyone else if anything ever happened to me Jac: 🥺🥺 Jac: I will spoil them so hard, I promise Savannah: nobody else would be able to tell them what I'm really like, nobody knows me like you do Jac: You'll make me cry Jac: I don't wanna think about you ever not being here Jac: but I'd make sure they knew how much you loved them, and how incredible you were so they love you as much, always Savannah: I'll be with you forever, even if I do die first, because I love you that much too Jac: [don't actually cry in front of Amelia omg] Jac: I love you so much as well Jac: and we're paying up Jac: so I won't be long now 🙌 Savannah: that is perfect timing because I just arrived at your house Savannah: there was such a long queue in the shop Jac: So rude Jac: people are EXTRA with the Christmas shopping from like mid-october now Jac: thank god we aren't working retail Savannah: ^^^^^^^ Savannah: & this boy in front of me keep trying to flirt, it was so embarrassing Savannah: I have a boyfriend & I'm having a breakdown, excuse me Jac: The lack of awareness so many boys have is ALARMING Savannah: I almost wish I had started crying as he started speaking, he wouldn't have known where to look Jac: That would be kind of iconic Jac: but not worth the mascara Savannah: next time maybe, if I've gone makeup free Jac: or you could bring out some of the sign language I teach you Jac: it's very useful for that Savannah: 😄 true Savannah: are you going to teach me some more when you come home? Jac: We totally can Savannah: I'd like to Jac: why is it that whatever we do together, it's just the best time Jac: I'm really excited to see you Savannah: I know what you mean, I feel like a different person from who I was earlier Savannah: my mood has lifted purely because you'll be here soon Jac: It's the same for me, completely Jac: I'm so glad we found each other Savannah: I think your face looks perfect by the way, in that picture & always Jac: 😌😌 you're way too kind Savannah: my good deed is the gifts I've brought, how flawless you are is just what I genuinely believe Jac: thank goodness the walk back will give me time to cool down my 😳 Savannah: Oh no! I'll have to bring it back Savannah: 🌷 🌺 🌸 Jac: is that a clue to my gifts? 🧐 Savannah: perhaps 😊 Jac: 🥰 Savannah: [sends her a pic of her snuggling all these dogs cos we've made ourselves at home hens but she'd never post it because she don't look perfect enough] Jac: Awwh! Jac: You're [insert dog's name here]'s favourite, you know Savannah: Oh my god, am I? She's my favourite too! Jac: Yep, fully endorse this lovestory Savannah: 🥰🤗 Savannah: Teen motherhood definitely wasn't part of my plan but for her, I'll make the necessary changes Jac: If anyone could actually work it, it would be you Savannah: I literally can't even joke about it because of the degree at which I'll be tempting fate & how vitally important it is to me that no 👶🏾 happen yet Jac: We won't speak that into existence 🤐 Jac: can you imagine Savannah: I can imagine exactly what my dad would say Jac: 🤐 need that about as much as you need the 👶🏾 Savannah: I refuse to put a single foot wrong for him to claim is a cry for his attention Jac: As if Jac: the ego, like, yes, I'm going to permanently change MY life so you pay me attention Savannah: I can't make it any clearer that I'm not interested, we haven't spoken since he left Jac: exactly Jac: he wants you to make mistakes so he can have a valid in and come back to berate you because he knows IF he wants to make that contact as things are now, it's HIM that will face the criticism, rightly so, but he doesn't want that Savannah: ^^^ Jac: and he's meant to be the grown-up Jac: 🙄 Savannah: at least, having not acted like one for a long time, I'm fully prepared for his behaviour instead of being shocked by it once I reach my own adulthood Jac: 🌥 Jac: the only one defined by his mistakes, will be him Jac: you're gonna be happy and thrive, none of this will stop you Savannah: of course, because I've got you 🌞💛 Jac: if anyone is sunshine, it's you Jac: I just gravitate towards you 🌻🌻 Savannah: I'm willing you into my orbit right now for sure, you must be freezing out there Jac: yes, it's pretty cold Jac: the fashionable coat is gonna have to be swapped for the more practical 😖😂 Savannah: my poor baby! I'll warm you up Jac: 😳😳 works too Jac: for now, whilst I fast walk because I can't run on this ice Savannah: Don't walk too fast! Savannah: even with all the experience Ty has given me, I can't attest to be some kind of physiotherapist Jac: I 🤞 Savannah: I'll stop talking to you until you're back safely 👼🏾 Jac: ❤❤❤

[hoopdiddies]

I'm Not Over You // Ben Hardy x Reader (Part 2)

Summary: You had always loved Ben ever since you two met at university and became the best of friends. That feeling went out like a candle flame when the two of you parted ways until he re-entered your life...but this time with someone who has already occupied his heart.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, FlUFf, AnGst. Just one mention of alcohol.

WC:2184

A/N: Irrelevant but omg tomorrow's the Endgame premiere. Please pray for my grieving soul.

Tags: @mrsmazzello , @likeit-or-leaveit

"Hey Joe, I'm going to get something from the car. Mind if I borrow your keys?" You ask Joe who's enjoyed a few drinks but hasn't intoxicated himself. He nods in a lousy way and fish his car keys from his back pocket, dropping it onto your open palm. "Bronze key."

"Thanks, Maz." You ruffle his fiery red hair and leave it a mess, making your way back into the kitchen and through the living room. You had expected to at least find Ben close by but he's probably somewhere else. The guests are gradually leaving anyway so that could be a good thing. Upon reaching the front door and swinging it open, you gasp breathlessly at the sight of Ben standing in front of you.

"Oh god, you scared me." You plant your hand on your chest as to catch your breath and punch his arm jokingly. He rubs his nape, chewing on his bottom lip as a playful smile dares to take form on his face. "Yikes, sorry, Y/N. You were little jumpy there."

"No kidding." You raise an eyebrow as you zip past him, in a rush to get to Joe's car.

"Wait, where are you going?" He calls out and you turn, juggling Joe's keys carelessly. "Just going to get something in Joe's car."

With the amused smile still plastered on his face, he glances sideways and strides over to your side. "I'll go with you."

"I think I'm capable of crossing the street, Ben." You fold your arms together yet to no avail he spins you around and leads you across the empty street to Joe's car, squeezing your hand. Your brows furrow at his eagerness but at the same time, you feel your blood accumulate in your face as the way his fingers entwine around yours triggers a weird spark between you.

However elating it feels, you wonder where Rosy is.

"I know, but I had to tell you something, right?" He looks at you over his shoulder with a lopsided smile and you nod, avoiding eye contact. Upon reaching Joe's car, you pull out the bronze key and unlock the driver's seat to retrieve your wallet from the dashboard.

Afterwards, you slam the door shut and secure the lock, slowly turning to Ben to prompt him to talk. He inhales sharply and shoves his hands into his back pockets. "See, I wanted some advice from you. And a little verbal encouragement." He averts his gaze from yours, leaning towards the hood of the car.

Your brows couldn't be any more higher than they already are. "Did you and Rosy bicker?"

"No. But yes. It is about Rosy." It's almost as if he nearly hesitated to say her name but you could've been just hearing things. You encourage him to go on and he does, lacking the will to look you in the eye thereby giving you the inkling that he wants something to progress between them.

"Thing is, do you think I'm ready?" He finally looks at you directly and you smirk. "Ready for what?"

"For you know...that life."

"You're not making any sense, Ben."

He scratches the side of his nose and swears underneath his breath, letting out a faint chuckle. "I'm not good at this."

"Just build up the words right."

"Okay, do you think I'm ready for a new life with her? You know," and out of the fear that he might say the thing you now dread the most, you unconsciously hold your breath in, "settling down?"

It takes a good five seconds for you to fully comprehend the latter words and just as Ben is about to snap his fingers to bring you back to reality, you heave out a rough exhale and force a supportive smile at him. "If you want to, of course."

"What would I be like as a husband?" He just had to ask. Had he meant that in the fictional situation where you were in the place of Rosy, you would have a definite answer. But he's asking you as a friend. As someone who knows you and looks at you from a sibling-like perspective.

You feel yourself crumble from the inside as you open your mouth to answer. "You as a husband? Oh god, the horrors!" You joke to mask the pain.

He rakes his hand through his hair and plays along. "Come on, Y/N. Silly idea but I wanna hear it from you."

"Why me? Why not the girl who inspired you to ask this?"

He takes a light step forward and rubs your shoulders, having his green eyes burn through you. "Because you've known me longer."

Yes, I have. But why did you still pick her? The inner voice in your head cries out. The only rational thing you could do now is be here for him. As you always have. No matter how painful it is, you love him enough to support him with this.

"You as a husband? You wouldn't be perfect, " you pause to look down but after doing so resume, "you'd have your fights, temper tantrums and frankly, I doubt you could be a lot less messier in the morning."

"Y/N-"

"But your ability to love makes up for your imperfections, Ben. I know of Rosy's little episodes and despite her being a mess sometimes, being moody and hard to handle, you loved her regardless," you gently press your palm against Ben's cheek, caressing his skin softly, "you'd be the husband whom she'd wait for at the door every night."

Touched by how delicately you delivered your words, he takes you by surprise and hugs you tight. Your eyes widen for a couple of seconds before finally surrendering to his the beat of his heart, wrapping your arms around him too. No matter how bittersweet the situation is.

You've lived through Ben being that way. He truly is someone you'd always wait for at the door. Someone you wish to wait for.

"How come you're still single?" He asks amusingly and you look up to prevent the tears from falling. "I'm not."

Wait a minute.

Ben quickly releases you from his hold and his expression shifts instantly. "Who's the guy?" He asks you directly and you still haven't recovered from what you just said. In a daze, you ask back. "What?"

"You said you're not single anymore. Who's the lucky guy?"

Why did you say that? You haven't got a clue as to why, it was probably some kind of involuntary thing to fight back the hurt but now that there's no taking back what you said, you play along awkwardly. The somehow bright idea of pretending to be in a relationship to compensate for being in a hopeless situation popping into your mind.

"Um...um. Uh.." You can't think of anyone decent enough but luckily, and unluckily at the same time, you spot Joe jogging across the street over to you and reluctantly, you answer Ben's question.

"Joe!" You say out loud, catching Ben off guard and confusing an approaching Joe. "Hey...guys. What are you two still doing out here?" Joe, clueless to what you just said, asks.

You glance awkwardly at Joe and pull him close to your side. "Yeah, Joe and I are together." You say out of nowhere, making Joe do double-take at you to make sure he's hearing you correctly. Ben's eyes fall as a smile forms on his face. "That's awesome! Since when?"

Just as Joe begins to protest, you answer abruptly before he could utter a word. "Just last week. Sorry for not telling you earlier. We've dated for a while, often so when you and I don't hang out." You swear you could just toss yourself in the middle of the road and hope for a truck to run you over.

As being the only one who knows how you really feel about Ben, Joe seems to catch your drift instantly and what you're trying to pull, so he decides to play along.

"Is that right, mate?" Ben asks curiously and Joe nods in the most casual way possible. "Yeah. Been seeing this lovely girl for a while now."

"I see."

"Ben, darling! There you are!" You close your eyes as you hear Rosy call out from a feet across. Ben shrugs meekly before whisking past you and Joe in his way to Rosy.

"Hey babe, sorry. I was just helping Y/N with something." He smiles down at her. She gives you an almost curt glance and smiles back at Ben. "It's alright. Let's get back inside, it's cold out here."

"Yeah."

You apologize to Joe quietly for involving him in your mess yet he doesn't mind, as long as he's helping you get over it. You suddenly feel the need to get back home to recharge your batteries and escape the unwanted strains you get from seeing Ben and Rosy in each other's arms.

You walk towards them and huff. "Hey, uh, Ben? We better get going. I'm so sorry if I can't stay any longer but I have work tomorrow."

He turns his body to you fully and by the looks of it, he's quite disappointed that you have to go so soon. "Oh. Are you sure?"

You nod and he sighs, giving you one last embrace for the night. "If you have to. Thank you for coming and the gift. You have no idea how much it means to me everytime you're around." You ought to slap yourself everytime Ben says something that just breaks you into two. You rest your head over his shoulder and smile softly. "Of course. Thanks for the time as well. Happy Birthday again."

You pull away deliberately and give him and Rosy one last smile before walking back to Joe. He opens the driver's seat for you and you get in, clipping the seatbelt over yourself.

Accepting that you're now in the arms of someone as trustworthy as Joe, Ben smiles crookedly at him."Don't break her heart. That's just one rule, okay?"

"Never been one to do that. Don't worry." Joe reassures with a wink and gets in after you, the two of you waving at Ben and Rosy before driving off. You immediately take out your phone to text Lucy and Gwilym about your rush to leave the party. After doing so, you place your phone on your lap and cover your face with your hands.

"I'm curious, what prompted you to lie to him about being in a relationship with me?" As eager as ever to hold back a laugh, he asks, keeping his eyes firm on the road.

You throw your head back against the seat and tut. "He thought of proposing to Rosy."

"Seriously?"

"He didn't actually say that, per se. But he gave a clear hint. It didn't even seem like a hint."

"But what if he does propose," he adjusts his rearview mirror all the while stealing glimpses of you, "because I can tell you, when a guy implies like that, it's go time." You shrug weakly, "What can I do but be there for him? Yes it'll hurt, a lot, but seeing him happy is enough."

"Are you sure? You've known Ben longer, heck even loved him longer. Why didn't you ever tell him?" Now that Joe's brought up the question, you begin rethinking what could've been had you told him.

You didn't want to ruin what you already had. Your friendship with Ben was already considered a strong bond, it was on all levels...except romantic. You feared it might have just caused a riff in your relationship and damage what you've built with him through the years.

What if he does propose?

Would you still be strong enough to be around him?

You look out the window and trace your finger across the glass. "It's complicated, Joe."

"Okay," Joe exhales softly and raises his brows at you, pressing his lips to a hard line, "if you're tired, feel free to doze off. You look bummed." You smile at him and pat his hand that's on the gear lever, leaning against the window afterwards to take a nap through the drive back.

--

By the time you arrived home, you give Joe a kiss on the cheek and thank him for the night and particularly for saving your ass when you couldn't think of someone to name as your "boyfriend" at that moment. He bids you good night and drives off.

You kick the door to your apartment open and toss your shoes aside, flopping like a pancake onto the couch and feeling your phone buzz from your back pocket. You take it out and find one message from Lucy, two from Gwilym and...one from Ben.

You narrow your eyes as you skip the first, three messages to read Ben's and find yourself unwillingly tear up at one simple text from him.

Hhhh- Ben:

We finally found our soul mates like we once swore. Thanks for bein here, love. Good night, love you.

Your eyes gloss over those two words once more.

,love you.

If only he knew.

(Part 3 will be posted tomorrow...after I come out of the theatre wheezing uwu)