#thinking about my friend helping me in chess and reassuring me every five minutes that its fine that i dont know what to do

[iqmmir]

thinking about my friend saying that im like the sun on monday when we were drawing each other

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #282

“daddy’s flown across the ocean / leaving just a memory / a snapshot in the family album / daddy, what’d you leave behind for me?”

What is your favorite type of dance? I like modern dances, especially those unusual or creepy with unique music. They’re the dances I look forward to watching in dance competitions. Do you find making scenes in public fun? Oh fuck no. Lemonade or pink lemonade? Pink is Supreme in so many ways. Where do you feel safest? At home, especially if Mom is here. Have you ever been to a gay pride parade? No, but I’d love to. Would you take your dream job if it were out of the country? No. I don’t want to move to Africa. What do you like to do when you're home alone? HAHA okay so I almost exclusively watch Unus Annus when Mom isn’t home because I will almost without a doubt cackle at least once, and… explaining why I’d be laughing would be WILD. UA is a fucking gift & I’mma miss it when it’s gone. What kind of music calms you down? My best bet is nostalgic music that I hold very close, like Ozzy. The soundtracks to SotC and SH2 are also magical when it comes to soothing me. Who did you last go to a park with? Uhhhh… probably not since I took family pictures for someone. Got some nice ones. Have you ever been robbed? Thankfully, no. Are you working, a student, both, or neither? Neither, and at nearly 25, it’s fucking humiliating. I’m thinking of appealing my disability case (you very rarely get it the first time), but of course self-doubt and anxiety just slaps me across the face again and again by asking, “Do you really need it?” That shit is agonizing. Very highly regarded people in my life agree that it’s realistic for me, at least at this moment, while I sort out my mental health. I don’t plan on being on it forever, fuck no. But right now I am, no matter what anyone says, a leech in my home. What's your favorite holiday? Christmas. I prefer Halloween’s “vibe,” of course, but I am much more excited and just thankful at Christmastime, especially now as an aunt with children who *understand* the holiday. Their joy and excitement is enough of a gift to me. It’s always really hard on Mom because she’s convinced she doesn’t do enough (she cries at least once like… every year), but my sisters and I always reassure her. It’s also a nice opportunity to see Dad and my stepmom, also with my sister’s family, and once again we get to see the kids so happy. But enough about them; what I love most about Christmas is I generally am able to put my troubles into perspective and take the time to remember I am, in the big picture, lucky to have what and who I do. And SNOW!!!!! If you can’t tell I’m stoked for Christmas. Do you prefer male or female friends? Both are great, but I’m more relaxed with female friends because of the whole “scared of men” ordeal. What's your favorite dessert? Biiiiihhhhh lemme get my hands on ice cream. Do you ever go on chatroulette or omegle? Noooo, I never did. That shit creeps me out. Besides, I’m shy. What kind of tea do you drink? None. Do you know anyone in a gang? Not to my knowledge… What color is your fridge? White. We decided to use the fridge already in this house versus our old one. Is your phone mostly on vibrate, silent, or ringtone? It’s just about always on vibrate. Do you own black sunglasses? I don’t own any sunglasses. Are you currently looking for a job? Fuck if I know. Not actively, but if something suitable magically popped up, I’d definitely pursue it. Do you watch MTV? No. Do you like to tell people who you like? Historically, I tend to keep my mouth shut about it to people who know that love interest unless explicitly asked, and even then, it depends on if I think they’ll keep their mouth shut. How often do you braid your hair? It’s too short to be braided. I very rarely had it braided beforehand. What color is your microwave? Black. Do you wash your face in the morning when you wake up? If I remember, especially if I’m groggy. Are you interested in the ocean? No more or no less than the average person. What's a big turn on for you? Keeping physical stuff outta this, I’m just such a fuckin sucker for being authentically romantic lmao. Have you ever thought about being a teacher? Heeeeeelllllll no. What's the first thing you do when you turn your computer on? Close out of the stuff that automatically pops up after it starts. Do you drink Gatorade? Ugh, ew, no. Do you hate when people replace 0's with O's? EX: 9:OO AM. Lol no, it’s honestly aesthetically pleasing in some formats. Did you hate riding the bus? Some of my best school memories are the long bus rides home w/ Jason so uh- Do you ever use XOXO in texts, letters etc..? Nah. Has anyone ever told you they liked you to your face? Yeah. Have you ever touched an elephant? No. Reading or writing? Writing. Do you have a childhood nickname? Mom called (and sometimes still does lakjdf;alkwe) me “Twinkie.” She gave sweets-oriented nicknames to all her kids. Have you ever had a Moon Pie? UGH they’re gross. I have this faint memory as a kid of a sweetheart babysitter my sisters and I had always offering us banana moon pies as a snack or dessert, idr. I’ve always hated anything banana-flavored. Has your car ever had troubles? N/A What's your birthstone? Amethyst. Would you join the navy? I want nothing to do with anything remotely related to war. What's your favorite board game? Battleship. Do you like chess? I’ve never played it nor even know the rules. If you’ve ever tried drugs or alcohol, what was your reason for first trying it? I was absolutely parched after a long, sweaty walk and was offered it to “try” by my mom without me knowing it was alcohol… the “WAIT NO STOP” from everyone was so quick lmao. It was just hard lemonade, so nothing super serious. Do you think you could ever have an abortion if you unexpectantly turned up pregnant right this second? I probably would. There is no fucking way I can emotionally handle carrying a baby right now. But I’d feel like absolute shit, even though I’m pro-choice. I just don’t want to picture myself in that situation. Is there a situation where you caved into peer pressure and regretted it? Probably. Although generally, I’m very resilient to peer pressure when it comes to something I really don’t want to do. What is your favorite video game console? Why? PS2, of course. I think the best games came from that era, many ahead of their time. Example, the original Shadow of the Colossus graphics massively pressured the limits of the software, and it still to this day blows me away. Sure, you have some lag in return, but the end result was just magnificent. I seriously, seriously, seriously hope I’m able to play the remake one day. When you lost your virginity, were you sober? I was. As of this minute, what is going through your mind? How I need a change and purpose in life so motherfucking badly. Where’s the last place you went? I was riding around with Mom, doing some errands. Are both of your blood parents still in your life? Yes. When was the last time you went apple picking? Never. Do you have a good relationship with your cousins? We don’t really… have a relationship. We don’t talk, we just kinda “exist” knowing we’re related. What was the last kids movie you saw? I watched some of Hotel Transylvania 3 with my niece and nephew. Do you know anyone who was born in Africa? When I was still in college, there was at least one guy in my class who was. Tutored me in math. Patience of a saint, haha. Have you ever been to an internet cafe? I actually have zero clue what that is. Has the year gone quickly for you so far? I’ve barely discerned 2018-2020, if I’m being honest with you. It’s just a lump of time where I’ve done jack-all. I mean yeah, school fits in there somewhere, but mentally I wasn’t in a wonderful place and haven’t been “happy” for a long time. My mental state has been the same for a few years. How many siblings does your significant other have? N/A Are you one of those people who can drink vodka straight? Oh, I hiiiighly doubt it. I loathe the taste of alcohol. Do you share a middle name with any of your friends? I legitimately have one of the most basic white bitch middle names in America, I know tons. How many pairs of jeans do you own? None. Do you know the name of the pharmacist at your local drug store? One, yes, considering Mom worked there before the cancer and is still in touch with this pharmacist. What flavor is your toothpaste? Mint. Are you sleepy right now? I think I’m permanently sleepy. Do you like crime films and tv shows? Not especially. Are you bitter about anything? Many things. What was the first online account you remember having? Neopets. My older sister helped me set it up when I was somewhere around eight. Do you use emojis? More than I used to. I’m gradually converting from emoticons to emojis, oof. What was the last type of soda you drank? Mountain Dew. Do you remember much from high school? I probably remember too much from high school, if I’m being honest. I remember far too much in far too much detail during the almost four years I dated Jason. Where would you go for the ultimate honeymoon? Probably the Bahamas, mostly for the pink beaches, aha. It would also be an incredible photography opportunity. Do you know anyone who has a strong accent that is hard to understand? My former best friend’s dad was so southern that yes, I could barely understand him whatsoever. If you had to get a tattoo tomorrow, what would you get? If you mean a fresh, new one and not a glow-up on the Mark tribute tat I’ve mentioned five thousand times, a tribute to Teddy featuring his portrait, pawprint, and the Powerwolf lyrics “and we’ll meet where the wild wolves have gone.” I’m going to be picky as a motherfucker about the design itself, though, so realistically it probably wouldn’t be tomorrow since I’d probably commission people to draw in varying styles. Ugh, I need that tattoo gun, my man. What was the last podcast you listened to? Do you listen to it regularly? That would be 4 Peens in a Pod (it’s… not a porn I swear, it’s Fischfuck and the boys lmao). I’m waaaaaaaaaaay behind on it, though. I watch so many different things now that I’m behind on like… everything I watch/listen to. Are you on a first-name basis with your boss? (or last boss if unemployed) I think I was with all of them? What was the last thing you wrote in a Word document? This survey. Because I combine short ones into Big Boys that I usually don’t finish in one go, I save my progress on it. Who do you miss and what do you miss about them? I miss a number of people and would rather not retrospect on them. What were the best and worst costumes you’ve ever worn? *shrug* Do you know anybody who is gay and married? I think so. What did you last take painkillers for? A headache. Are there any hobbies you want to get back into? Ugh. A whole fucking lot. I’ve thought quite a bit recently on how I miss video editing, but I just don’t have the motivation and dedication for that anymore. Have you ever shared a home with a friend? Yes. What’s the craziest or weirdest place you’ve ever slept? Nowhere that strange at all… Probably just like, the floor, but even then with blankets and stuff. What did you have for lunch today and who made it? I haven't had lunch yet. Are you allergic to anything? How did you find out? Pollen is pretty obvious, while serious discoloring and itching let me know I was allergic to silver. Have you ever been on a date with someone you met online? How was it? Yeah, I was visiting her for a couple weeks. It was nice. Who was the last very physically attractive person you saw? In ~real life~, probably some friend on Facebook. Do you know anyone who is deaf? We recently found out actually that my youngest niece is deaf in her left ear due to a massive buildup of fluid in it. I’m so ready to hear about her reaction to hearing normally once it’s taken care of. Has there ever been a person you regret ever being friends with? Probably at some point. “Ever” makes this question difficult. Do you think you have a good understanding on love? Yes. What do you think of your parent(s)? I love them both immensely while acknowledging their flaws. What celebrity do you think should of never become famous? I don’t care enough to think on this honestly haha. Did you ever get into the Twilight saga craze? What about the Harry Potter craze? Neither. What's your opinion about Katy Perry's song "I Kissed a Girl"? It was bold for its time, for sure. I’ve never minded it. Actually since coming out as bi I’ve known that this song has to be included in the recession dances of my wedding if my partner is female lmao. Do you believe in heaven? If so, what's it like? If not, why? I hope there’s some sort of total bliss after death if you’re deserving of such, but I don’t know. I definitely don’t know how I actually picture it. Even if there’s not, well, I’m assuming I just won’t exist anymore, so I wouldn’t be able to care anyway. Sometimes I hope that's the case. What email service do you use for your main (or only) email account? Hotmail. Did you ever believe in the Tooth Fairy? Yeah. I remember there was one time where “she” didn’t trade my tooth for munz and I was so mad lmao. Mom apparently forgot and slipped something under the pillow while I was getting ready for school. How I fell for it, who knows man, kids are wild. How do you feel about Taco Bell? I’m not a Mexican food fan, really, but I do love their cheese (with or without chicken) quite a bit. The cinnamon bite things are bomb as FUCK, too. I’m still mad tilted they took potato products off their menu tho because I used to destroy the fiesta potatoes. How often do you go on to YouTube? I’m like… always on it. Not focusing on it at all times, but something’s in the background. Back when Spongebob Squarepants was famous, were you interested in it? Well of course, man. What's your dream pet? Ugggghhhh a sunset morph ball python, probably. Buuut I’ve seen some over $2k with their rarity. More realistically, I really, really want a Brazilian Black tarantula. And an arctic morph hognose. I want a lot of pets. ;_; Who's been your favorite teacher growing up, and why? God, I have a lot, honestly. All things considered, the answer is probably Miss Tobey, who was my physical science teacher in high school. She’s an extremely close family friend now involved regularly in my family’s lives. She can be… difficult and says shit before thinking, but we love her nevertheless. What's your favorite fairy tale? Fuck outta here if you say Shrek isn’t one. Do you have a favorite pen? Uh, no… I barely ever use pens anyway. Has a child ever asked you a question you found difficult to answer? Yeah; it happens sometimes with my niece and nephew. Name five books you've read in the past year. I think I’ve read the first three Wings of Fire book within the same year, and I’m currently on the forth. Other than those, I started The Testaments by Margaret Atwood, but only got through the prologue I think before my focus shifted onto WoF. I still plan on reading it at some point, though. ^Are any of those books your favorite? No. The prequel to The Testaments, The Handmaid’s Tale, is very high up there, though. Are you a person that enjoys re-reading books? Not at all. Once I read it once, I’m done. There are VERY few books I’ve reread, and most of those were children’s books from when I was little. Do you have a favorite talk show host? Don’t watch any. Which sounds the most refreshing: a hot shower or a cold one? I prefer hot showers unless I seeeeeriously need to cool down. Have you ever made your own soap? No. Can you sleep with socks on? UGH NO. When was the last time you were pissed beyond belief and why? Ummm good question. I don’t know about *that* mad. Maybe when Ashley’s mother-in-law shared a massively homophobic article that condoned conversion therapy on Facebook that resulted in me removing her from my friends and RAGING to my mom about it. That was forever ago, though. Do you have a favorite candle brand? No. What is your opinion on taxidermy? I have… very mixed feelings. If the animal was hunted for sport, then it’s fuckin disgusting; you literally killed an animal with the intention to show off the fact you’re a goddamn murderer. On the other hand, taxidermy of naturally-deceased animals can be educational, and even… artistic sometimes? I don’t know. I can’t really pick one stance over the other. Would you ever want to own a body part in a jar? Actually, yes, particularly of fetal animals (that WERE NOT killed for the sake of displaying), but for the same reasons above, I’m not sure if I would *really* do it. They are incredibly interesting to me, more so than taxidermy probably, but yeah, I still question the morality of it. What is the worst thing you have ever done to your own hair? I don’t think I’ve ever really done a “bad” thing to my hair. What qualities of yours do you think could potentially harm a relationship? I’m very clingy and, in the beginning, very paranoid that you’re going to leave. Have any of your childhood habits carried over into adolescence/adulthood? I had AWFUL separation anxiety from my mom for a very long time as a kid, and I guess that evolved into my extreme inability to handle loss well, maybe. I’d say they’re at least somewhat related. What is the first band that comes to mind when I say 'dark'? Cradle of Filth popped up first. As far as relationships go, what are your biggest deal-breakers? Abuse, arrogance, and distrust probably top the list. Be honest: do looks really matter to you? Nah. It’s nice to be physically attracted to my partner, but it’s not a must. Have you ever done something simply because you were of age? No. Do you think it's worth it to tell someone you had feelings for them when you don't have them anymore? I mean, what’s the situation? Are you hanging out, talking about relationships casually? I’d say it’s fine then if it’s relevant to the conversation. I don’t think it’s worth going out of your way to tell someone you liked them if you don’t anymore, though. Have you ever done something you once thought you'd be too chicken to do? Y’know that ride at fairs where you go up really high on a circular thing with other people and then drop abruptly? That. I screamed like a mf lmao. I had to put a lot of effort into not yelling “SHIIIIIIIIIIIT” lmao. What's a food you love but don't get to eat very often? Stuff involving shrimp, ig. What's your favorite mythical being? Dragons! Have you ever felt a baby kick? I don’t think so, and I don’t want to, considering it’s fucking terrifying to me. I can’t even see a baby move without screaming and wanting to hurl. When is the last time you did something truly fun, and what was it? Who the fuck knows… What is the worst thing you've ever done when you were really angry? Said things I shouldn’t have. Are there any pills you take on a daily basis? If so, what? A lot. I can’t be bothered to go through all of them. At what age do you first remember feeling butterflies in your stomach around someone? I’m not sure. Do you feel that way around anyone now? I don’t think so. What is your main heritage? German or Irish, idr which is more prominent. What is a song that you hate to admit you like? “Bitches” by Hollywood Undead came to me first lmao. What inspires you to get off your bum and do something productive? More than anything, watching inspirational YouTube videos. What part of your body have you had the most problems with in your life? I suppose maybe my ears? I had tubes put in as a kid, I had an absolutely agonizing ear infection once, I had earwax adhered to my eardrum, and they've always been STUPID dry and flaky. Are you watching your weight? Like a hawk, but it doesn’t seem to matter anyway. :^) Have you ever become really good friends with someone you found online? Most of my closest friends I’ve met online. What is the coolest tattoo you've ever seen? You’re asking the wroooong person, lol. I’ve just seen way too many… Have you ever created anything artistic that you're proud of? If so, what? Lots of things; drawings, some writing, photographs, video edits… What do you like on your hotdogs, if you eat hotdogs? Just ketchup and mustard. What is a subject that makes you uncomfortable? Sex. What is a subject you can talk on and on about and not get sick of it? MEERKATS and MARK What is the worst thing someone could do to you emotionally? Tell me I’m weak. Or that my mental illnesses truly do make me unlovable. Just essentially do fucking not make me feel what Jason did. What is the worst thing you've ever done to someone emotionally? Said some extremely mean and potentially scarring shit.

[hillnerd]

The Wonderful Won Won - ch 5

ff.net    A03     tumblr     Chapter word count-  11524  [PREVIOUS CHAPTER]

[start at the beginning] 

BIG, GIANT, HUMONGOUS THANKS TO @diva-gonzo- for being so kind and being my beta/editor for this! It was a GIANT chapter to go through!!! Go and check out their work!!! Diva is an amazing writer!

Trigger warnings:  cursing, hospital, medical injuries (brain damage, memory issues, agraphia), negative thoughts about one’s own disabilities

      ====================================================

CHAPTER 5- Bedpans and Broomsticks

The first few days awake in the hospital wing were bleary ones. Ron had difficulty remembering all the various daily moments without consulting an ever-growing stack of parchments with reminders. Any lapse in memory was fine though, as he had Hermione there to remind him of anything he forgot.  He forgot quite a bit, considering how much Hermione had to remind him.

Ron felt exhilarated to see his friends on a weekday. It was excruciating being remanded to the hospital wing, waiting for people to come to him, and with very little to do. He loathed sitting still for too long. Sure he loved to laze about, but it’d be with the knowledge he could do anything he liked later. At home having the freedom to read comics, eat some ice mice, play chess or go for a fly made even a lazy day where he did nothing but sleep and do chores pleasant. 

Having nothing to do in a hospital wing was a different thing altogether. Enforced laziness wasn’t fun. Harry had brought him his chess set, and a couple of chocolate frogs. Ginny brought him some Quidditch magazines. Hermione brought him loads of homework and her highly detailed notes from their shared classes. He couldn’t do the work, though. Not that he didn’t try. The moment he’d start reading an assignment by the end of a paragraph he’d have forgotten most of what he’d read. 

He tried taking notes, but holding a quill and controlling it enough to even ink the quill made his whole arm spasm within five minutes, and the concentration it took to process words and spell them made him rage with frustration. He wasn’t a genius like Hermione but he’d always been bright enough that school wasn’t that hard for him and he could float by without much effort. Now it took all his willpower to write his name legibly and he even struggled to spell it. Pomfrey called it Agraphia, or the inability to process words to write them, and assured him that this would all come back, that it was all temporary. It was of little reassurance when experiencing the strange fear and crazed feeling of being unable to spell and write your name, a task he’d been able to do easily since he was four years old. 

His family had all written to him, sans Percy, with Mum sending a few follow ups when he hadn’t replied. They sat unanswered. There was no way for him to reply. He could barely sign a letter, much less write one. He kept trying to will his way through them, but all it lead to headaches and fatigue.

Despite spending all his days in bed, the hospital wing thoroughly exhausted him. No matter what activities his friends brought him he was unable to enjoy them, and it wasn’t relaxing in a hospital. He was in pain or at least uncomfortable all day and night. Pain potions didn’t help much and when they did, he slept. Every night he was awoken a few times as Pomfrey came to administer spells and potions, or just check the room. What sleep he got was light and restless, plagued by nightmares of choking to death or being unable to control his body. The fear would jerk him awake and it would take hours to fall asleep again. 

“How did you sleep?” Pomfrey asked, as she did her early morning round, waking him a good hour earlier than he ever woke on his own.

“Fine,” Ron lied, sitting up fully in bed as she spelled the bed to support him. “I think I can manage class today. I’m feeling good, now.”

She looked at him with a hint of agitation. Maybe he gave it away by not looking at her directly. She knew he was exaggerating, but Ron couldn’t help but hope she’d let him out of his prison, even if for an hour or two. He saw a hint of a smile on her face before she squared up in front of him.

“Oh? You’re ‘feeling good?’ Well let’s test you just to make sure. Please raise both your arms straight in front of you.”

Ron quickly complied. That was easy enough. They almost immediately began to ache as he held them aloft. He was so weak he could feel them imperceptibly begin to shake.

“I am going to press down on them, and I need you to push back to keep your arms in the same position.”

Ron nodded, biting the inside of his cheek as he concentrated on keeping his face neutral, and his arms firm and unshaking.

She gently pushed down on his arms. He forced himself  into keeping his arms aloft, but his head began to swim, and they were quickly pushed down to his lap by the Matron.

“I’m sorry, Mr Weasley. You haven’t regained the strength and stamina needed to attend your classes. Just getting to one of them right now would be too much for your body.”

Ron nearly cursed and wanted to throw something, but he was too exhausted to do it. He hated being weak like this. It wanted to bash his brains in, feeling so useless. He always felt a bit useless, which he hated, but at least he could combat it by just being there for people. He might not be the smartest, the most talented, good looking, or even useful but he had grit, and he was good at just being consistently present. At least, he tried to be that. Maybe he wasn’t even any good at that. He’d had a pretty bad track record of being there for Hermione, and his falling out with Harry their fourth year. And now he was sitting in the hospital wing unable to help them with anything at all.

He hated to admit it, and flat out refused to tell Madam Pomphrey, but he was utterly spent. Blimey! He’d toss Harry off the top of a tower to get a full night of uninterrupted sleep. Not sleeping wasn’t helping his memory issues get any better. 

He swore if he had one more friend say they’d said something to him already he’d scream! 

The doors to the hospital wing swung open and Ron feigned sleep, just in case it was Lavender. He knew the moment he paid her a lick of attention the newfound peace he’d found with Hermione would vanish, and Ron really didn’t know if his heart could take losing Hermione again. He would surely mess it up all on his own eventually, but he’d be damned if he’d let her slip away today. The footsteps sounded like the fast little rhythm of Hermione’s, but he didn’t dare open his eyes until he heard her laugh.

“Ron, I know you’re not asleep!” she said with a bit of a giggle that made him smile in turn as he opened his eyes. He’d never take her smile for granted ever again.

“How’d you know?” He sat up slightly in the bed.

“Because you snore every time you’re asleep for more than a minute or so.”

“What? Naw, I don’t. Not all the time.”

“Believe me, you do,” she said with a smile. “Harry’s mentioned it too, and he gets far more of an earful than anyone else, I imagine.”

“Is it loud? I don’t sound like a dragon rattling the timbers or anything, do I?”

“No, I'd say your snoring is something akin to the sound a bear makes.”

Ron flinched in embarrassment.

“A smallish bear,” she added with a small smile. “Well, now at least. You’ll probably have it get worse as you get older. I don’t envy anyone sleeping with you by then.”

Ron’s mind flew to a vision of he and Hermione settling into bed, an old married couple, her poking him in his back as he snored. It was the most domestic, and least sexy thing he’d ever imagined about Hermione in his life, yet somehow his cheeks began to burn what was surely a deep red.

“Oh don’t worry,” she said, eyeing his red face and taking a seat on his bed as she had for the past two mornings. “I’m sure there are lots of solutions for it; silencing spells or something. At least you don’t have sleep apnea.”

“I’ve no clue what that is.”

“It’s a condition where you stop breathing in your sleep for a moment or two. Mum and Dad have a fair few patients with it and the Muggle devices for it are ridiculous. They put a breathing apparatus with long tubes on your face, and you have to do it every night. It’s quite mad, really.”

“Where do the tubes go?” he asked, horrified.

“It’s a face mask that sits around the nose, and sometimes mouth area.”

“Sounds thoroughly miserable. I’m picturing it like the pipes in the bathroom going up the nose.”

“No no, it’s plastic bendy tubes. More looks like a jellyfish sitting on your face than a metal pipe.”

The two of them smiled as he budged over a bit more so she should sit with her back supported by the inclined bed.

“Are you able to come to class today?” she asked.

“I wish. And it’s Herbology then Potions today, right?” He asked looking to her to confirm. She nodded and he let out a relieved sigh. His memory was slowly improving, though not fast enough for his liking. He’d never been a Hermione, able to memorize books of information, but he’d always been pretty good at recall. The poisoning had left him struggling to remember innocuous details, and was easily distracted as he lost sight of what he was doing. He’d almost lost in chess a few times. 

“I thought I could maybe do class today, but Pomfrey did a test on me, and I’m still… Well I’m still pretty useless right now.”

“I’m sorry, Ron,” she said, holding his hand. His hands at least had gotten well enough that he could hold her hand almost normally again. “You’ll be better soon, and then you’ll be back to outstripping us all with your long legs, coming to class and playing Quidditch.”

“Yeah…” Ron said with a sigh. “I’m hoping they want me back for Quidditch.  I dunno if I’ll be cleared to play again. I hope so. McLaggen’s replacing me while I’m out, and he’s a really good Quidditch player so— ”

“He’s not as good as you.”

“I dunno.... He seems pretty damned confident about his skills and did really well at tryouts.”

“But he didn’t beat you, did he?” Hermione interjected. “Plus he has the personality of a skrewt. Trust me, no one will want to keep him around.”

“You were able to keep him around for Slughorn’s party,” Ron said before her could stop himself. 

“Well… That was only one night. And it was rather awful, if I’m honest. That’s why I left the party early as I did.”

“It was? You didn’t ‘finish the evening’ another time?”

“Definitely not.”

Ron felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth.

“You really think he’s a berk?”

“Yes.”

“And you… You didn’t go out on another date with him?”

“No.”

Ron was positively beaming. She wasn’t involved with McLaggen. He had a slight worry about the team preferring that arse, but the one person whose preference most mattered didn’t like McLaggen at all. Instead she was sitting in a hospital wing, on Ron’s bed, holding his hand. He found his other hand coming round to draw circles on her hand. 

“Would you like to play some chess?” Hermione asked, a little flush working its way across her cheeks.

“Naw, I’m fine doin’ this,” he replied, unable to catch her eye as he was content to stroke her tiny cold hand. Her hands were always so cold, like little ice packs, but it felt wonderful when she’d take one and put it against his overheated face. He’d never appreciated fever fudge more than when it got Hermione to check his temperature fall of fifth year. He’d blushed almost purple between her touching him, and the effects of the sweet. 

“I wish you could come to class,” Hermione said quietly. 

“I’d be more useless than usual at them,” Ron said with a snort. He hadn’t told Hermione how he couldn’t really write. He was fine with her thinking he was procrastinating, because at least he’d have a semblance of pride. “Plus, me being gone isn’t that big of a change for you, is it? We weren’t exactly spending that much time together in class the past few months.”

“No we weren’t,” she said, worrying her bottom lip. They hadn’t spoken about their months long rift, and Ron didn’t feel capable of truly broaching the subject with her, even if part of him wanted to. “But still, you were there.” 

She clutched firmly at his hand.

 “You’re always there, even if things aren’t going well, and I don’t like looking over to find you’re not there. Plus Harry looks so lonely without you next to him.”

“He gets on fine without me, I’m sure.” His ears gave away his lie.

“No he doesn’t,” Hermione argued back. He wished she’d said she couldn’t get on without him either, but it wasn’t in Hermione’s nature to lie. She might not like Ron missing or whatever, but she certainly didn’t need him. No one really did, not even Harry. 

Harry was awkward with other people, but he could get on without him in the picture. This year, at least, half the school were drooling to get a piece of Harry, so it’d be easy enough for him to find plenty of new friends. Much of the time it felt like a matter of time until Harry would move on to better friends than him. Sometimes he thought the only reason Harry kept him about was to have an in with the Weasley clan, and have the loving family he’d always deserved. 

He didn’t resent it most of the time. He was happy to give his family to Harry. They might all be perfectly mad, and more than half of them annoying, but they were a brilliant family most of the time. They preferred Harry to him anyways, and after everything Harry had done and been through, he had little inclination to become territorial over them. He didn’t have much he could share with his best friend, but he sure had an overabundance of family. 

Dad loved to corner Harry to learn about Muggle things, Mum would go out of her way to fatten up Harry and croon over his newest accomplishment, Charlie and Bill had immense respect for him, the Twins shared all sorts of secrets with Harry and even gave him free merchandise and Ginny seemed to have grown rather close with him too the last few years. The only Weasley who didn’t seem to prefer Harry over Ron was Percy, but that was only because of the Ministry. Ron was certain it was only a matter of time until Percy joined in too. It did hurt at times knowing his family liked and admired his friend more than they ever did him, but there was no use in mourning it. It was just one of those things he had to accept, like being poor, maroon sweaters, or corned beef sandwiches. Hermione seemed to like and admire Harry more too. He couldn’t blame her on that. Ron knew how grumpy and argumentative he could be, and how Harry excelled at everything and was ‘fanciable.’ Well… 

“You alright?” Hermione asked, drawing him from his ponderings. 

“Yeah,” he said, removing his hand from hers and giving a stretch. It wasn’t all that rare for him to get lost in thought, but since the poisoning it was a lot easier. “Might be up for that chess game after all.”

“Oh! I can fetch it for you.”

She hopped down from the bed and the lovely sensation of her pressed to his side was gone. 

They began to set the chess pieces up on his wheeled overbed table. Ron’s hand spasmed as he put a knight in place, sending the pieces spilling and clacking across the table. 

“Bleeding fuck! Sod it!” Ron snarled pushing the table away and covering his face in frustration. A few of the pieces cursed back as they picked themselves upright. 

“I’ll get it, don’t worry.” 

“Don’t bother, I doubt I can even play properly! I can’t do anything anymore!” he lamented, looking to the ceiling. 

“You’re getting better every day! You can even feed yourself now, and—”

“Oh there’s a big achievement,” he cheeked. “Ron Weasley can finally feed himself. How bloody spectacular! Next we can have people line up to watch Ron wipe his own arse. A real treat, that! What a useless sod I am...”

“You know what?” Hermione admonished. “Since you’re feeling useless, why don’t you reply to your letters or do your homework? They’re really piling up and— ”

“I don’t want to.”

“Oh, honestly! I know it’s not fun, but you need to see to your responsibilities, and it will give you something to pass the time. Here, I’ll get your textbooks and papers. Professor Snape’s Defense essay is quite grueling really, and it will take some time to do it. I spent hours just picking the books to use for my research, and I don’t think he’ll give you an extension, even with being poisoned. I’ll just fetch them, and we can make a rough outline of what research we want to use.”

“I’m not doing it now, so don’t bother. You really don’t need to!” Ron protested, hoping she wouldn’t open his satchel and see the sad attempts he’d made at the essay already. He’d been able to hide the child-like ink scribblings for days, despite her being drawn to his parchment and books like Dobby was drawn to socks. She pushed ahead though and started rifling through his bedside table. The idea of her seeing what an imbecile he’d become made him reel in panic.

“Really, don’t!” Ron said, scrambling out of the bed. He got one leg to the floor before it shook and gave out, pitching his whole body onto the side table with a loud crash as the lamp and all the other contents fell to the floor. Hermione narrowly avoided his shoulder crashing into her face by leaping out the way, and he struggled to hold himself from falling to the ground as the table precariously clacked against the flagstone floor. 

“Mr Weasley! What are you doing?” Pomfrey cried out at the calamitous sound. She bustled over and got him back in the bed. “You aren’t supposed to leave the bed without help, and you know it! What were you thinking? If you had smacked your head in its unstable state you could have seriously inhibited your recovery!”

“Sorry,” he miserably gritted out between his panting hard breaths.

“Attempt it again and I’ll tie you to the bed, young man.”

“I won’t! I won’t!” That was the last blow to his dignity he could take. He huffed as Pomfrey and Hermione silently gathered everything that had fallen to the ground, and willed himself not to throw anything or cry in front of them. He couldn’t even stand. Pathetic. His whole body was trembling like he’d been running through the Department of Mysteries. With Hermione looking at him with concern, he turned his body away and it automatically collapsed in on itself like a quivering fold-away cot.

“I’ll have some breakfast for you soon,” said Madame Pomfrey rather quietly, before leaving his side. 

He errantly nodded in response, unable to speak. He could hear Hermione shuffling the papers together behind him. If she had papers in her hand, she was reading them. She’d see the childish scrawl, the holes his quill had pressed through the paper, and multiple attempts to write his own name. 

“Where would you like me to put these?”

Ron gave a weary sigh.

“Doesn’t matter. Anywhere. Burn em. Useless, aren’t they?”

“We don’t have to do any homework now. You’re tired. I will go.”

“You don’t have to go,” Ron muttered into his pillow before slowly turning towards her. 

Hermione carefully perched upon his bed before holding up his papers. 

“Were you going to tell me you’re having trouble writing??” she asked with affected calmness. He could tell by the hunch of her shoulders, the tension of her neck, and the small scrunch of her brows she was anything but calm.

Ron shook his head and she sighed in return. 

“I wouldn’t have pushed you if I knew!”

“You also wouldn’t know I’m currently an illiterate halfwit!”

“Only currently?” Hermione teased. 

“Yes, hex me when I’m disarmed. Real nice, that,” Ron groused and she made an effort to suppress her smile. 

“You’ll find a way to cope. This is all tempor— ”

“Temporary? It’s bloody humiliating, is what it is! Knowing it’s temporary doesn’t suddenly make it a treat, Hermione. Mum and the whole lot keep poking me to write back, and all this work is piling up- meanwhile I’m— I’m…” 

Ron swallowed roughly. 

“YOU try not being able to spell your own fucking name. Let’s see how you’d ‘cope’ if anyone knew. And you wonder why I didn’t tell you... It’s cause who wants to tell the smartest girl in the world they can’t write or spell because their brain is broken. I wasn’t going to tell you that, and if you weren’t so bloody nosy, I could have a shred of dignity left for myself, but I guess that’s off the fucking table isn’t it?”

Without a word, Hermione primly rose from the bed, and walked away, her quick little strides making a beeline for the door. Ron swore under his breath. He knew he’d ruin things with her as he always did, but he thought he might get a bit more time than a few days. 

“Wait, please don’t go! I’m sorry!” Ron yelled after her as best as he could. Her strides didn’t slow down at all, but instead of going through the doors she made a detour for the supply closet. He could hear her rattling about in the cupboard, and a series of metal clanks, before she strode over to him with a bedpan in hand. 

“Er, I don’t have to…” Ron began, looking at her with incredulity. Surely she didn’t expect him to use the loo in front of her!

“Put the parchment in it,” she said, a bit cooly.

“What?” he croaked.

She rolled her eyes, and thrust the bedpan at him.

“Put the parchment in the bedpan.”

He did as she commanded, warily eyeing her, unsure of what her game was. She wasn’t going to conjure up birds to peck at him again, he was mostly certain. 

“You can set fire to it either with a wand or matches. Which would you prefer?”

“What?”

“You said you wanted me to ‘burn them.’ So we’re doing just that. Now, wand or matches?”

“Pomfrey will freak if I use my wand.”

“She doesn’t have to know. It’s your choice, either way,” Hermione said, her eyes fervently boring a hole into him. She could set fire the parchment with just that look. 

“I’ll… I’ll stick with matches… Haven’t tried any wandwork yet. Don’t want to set fire to the bed ‘cause I can’t do the movement right...”

“I’m sure you would do fine either way, but I agree it’s safer to do matches,” Hermione nodded. She shifted through her book bag for a while and found an old quill. She snapped it into a few pieces then transfigured them into matches and a striking surface. 

“There! Ready when you are,” she said with satisfaction, before throwing a hint of a smile his way. “Are there any more papers to burn?”

“Got a few stuffed in my potions book. Feel free to burn the book at the same time, if you like.” 

He knew it’d prickle her to hear him speaking of burning any book, and was rewarded with her familiar foreboding glare.

“If it was Harry’s potions book I would add it to the pyre,” Hermione sniffed. She gathered all the offending parchments and jammed them into the white bedpan.  Ron grinned at her, still incredulous at her sudden bout of pyromania.

“You do the honors,” she smiled again, handing him the matches.

He had trouble grasping them, and fumbled the first two matches so poorly the tips turned black without producing any fire. The final match he managed to strike in a straight line, and it burst into a small glowing flame. He and Hermione shared a smile, the kind of private breathless smile they had enjoyed after she lied to McGonagall in first year, or after she had slapped Malfoy, or after she had kissed his cheek last year. The flames were almost to his fingertips, but he dared the flames to stay back a moment longer, just so he could continue to look at her warm brown eyes and the flicker of fire in them.

“Don’t burn yourself,” she whispered to him, before glancing down at the match.

He licked his lips then let go of the match, smiling with satisfaction as the parchment slowly lit up. They sat and watched the flames flicker before growing a deep orange that ate away at the papers, eviscerating all evidence of Ron’s struggles.

Hermione cuddled up beside him, her small hand working its way into his pale freckled one for the second time that morning. 

“I won’t tell anyone,” she whispered.

“About the writing, or you being a pyro?” he said, trying to keep a tender look off his face. 

She gave him a nudge in the ribs then put her head on his shoulder. Her bushy hair tickled his nose a bit, but he’d gladly have a whole handful of her hair choking him if it meant he had even one more moment of her to himself like this. He’d never thought a bedpan could be entrancing, but Hermione could make anything entrancing really. 

The flames grew too high to stay safe so Hermione finally moved from his side to extinguish them.

She had to leave, eventually, to make it to class, but in her absence, his pleasant fiery morning with Hermione kept a smile on his face for hours.

She'd promised she'd being Pig later and would help him compose some letters. "We'll just say you can't do small motor movements yet," she'd assured him when he opened his mouth to protest.

Hours later, while everyone was at class, Ron contentedly napped on and off, thinking of Hermione and the shine of her eyes as she helped him set his parchment aflame. 

However, he still had his problem. Each time the doors made a noise he’d open an eye to see who it was. Harry came by before lunch, mood looking foul. 

He marched into the hospital wing, a prodigious frown on his face. The air around Harry seemed to frizzle with fractious energy when he was angry, and today was no exception. His green glare pierced its way across the hospital wing, and Ron cautiously sat up, wondering how he could help Harry calm down a bit.

Ron tried to school himself into a nice neutral mood for Harry, but it was difficult to hide his own light mood as his friend stomped over. 

“What’s got you in such high spirits?” Harry irritably inquired. Ron knew not to take it personally. He might have been in a snit, but it was rare Harry could see through his own mood to ask Ron about his. Being an invalid had its perks, he guessed. Harry flopped onto the foot of Ron’s bed, throwing his book back to the ground with a great thump. “Feeling any better?”

“A bit, yeah,” said Ron, biting back a grin as he eyed the charred bedpan in the corner.

“Good! You’d better recover quickly. I can’t take another moment of McLaggen!”

“Oh yeah? How’s he shaping up?” Ron asked, nervous to hear the answer.

“He’s a complete disaster. His Keeping is fine when he stays in position and minds his business, but fat chance of that.”

“Oh?” Ron sat up taller. “What’s the bellend done now?”

“What hasn’t he done? Harangues me nonstop about Quidditch strategy wherever I go. It’s this constant stream of terrible advice! But he’s even worse at practice. He keeps interfering with everybody and trying to direct the way the practice runs and tell people how to play their position.Makes for absolute chaos on the field. I could barely Captain and he barely let anyone else play their positions either. If he’s not grabbing Coote’s beater bat, he’s vying for the snitch, or he’s hogging the ball as if he’s a Chaser to hold demonstrations on how to play.”

“Oh I bet Ginny doesn’t like that!” Ron said with barely contained glee.

“No she doesn’t.” Harry had fond look on his face. “Had to stop her from hexing him about five times. Finally missed her once practice was over.”

“Did you actually miss, or did you let her do the dirty work for you?”

“As Captain I would never condone someone hexing another team member,” Harry said with mock solemnity, but his wry smile was showing through. “I told her which specific spells I didn’t want to see any team members inflict on one another. How was I to know she’d use one of those very spells on him not minutes later?”

“Oh yeah, no one could have predicted that! What’s a Captain to do?” Ron laughed along with his friend. “What spell did she use?”

“Waddiwassi. Shoved the snitch right up his nose. He’ll probably drag himself in here soon enough since I can’t imagine anyone would be willing to remove it for him, the prat.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for that,” Ron beamed. 

“Maybe they’ll shut the school down and then I won’t have to deal with this shit anymore,” said Harry, laying back on the bed to glare at the ceiling.

“Why would they want to shut it down?”

“Oh Hagrid was going off about what’ll happen if students keep getting attacked.”

“Well either you me or Hermione has nearly died every year and I’ve not gotten so much as one holiday for it, so I think that notion is a load of bollocks,” said Ron, wobbly putting his arms behind his head. “Even if Dumbledore himself got chucked, there’d be old McGongall and the rest of the staff to keep it together well enough. Even Snape wouldn’t want Hogwarts to shut down. Then he’d have to spend all his time with the Order, who he hates. That or face being a full-time Death Eater.”

“Maybe he already is one,” said Harry darkly, not giving any more information. Ron gave him an expectant look, and finally Harry relented. “Hagrid told us he heard Dumbledore and Snape having an argument the other day. A bad one. Snape was saying he ‘didn’t want to do something anymore,’ and Dumbledore said Snape had ‘promised to.’ He was really ticked at Snape, it seems.”

“Cor! I’ve always wondered if Dumbledore thought he was as big a prick as we did. What do you suppose Snape’s trying to avoid?”

“Investigating the Slytherins properly. He’s protecting Draco somehow.”

And they were at that again. 

“Look, I know Draco wants me as dead as anyone,” Ron began, “but he wouldn’t have been after me—”

“There was no way he could have targeted you with the mead, I know that. All of this is tied together though, and Draco’s been up to something. And after what we heard between Snape and Draco this holiday… Snape’s trying to help Draco. Perhaps he’s trying to cover up Draco’s involvement?”

“Hmm…” Ron answered vaguely, looking to Hermione’s charred bed pan again. As interesting as it was to hear about the happenings of Dumbledore and Snape, he wasn’t sure how good it was for Harry to be obsessing the way he was. 

Harry had a tenacious mind. While Ron quite admired him for it, and would always back him up, he knew Harry needed time to be a kid and do stupid shit. Ron couldn’t tell him that though. If he did his friend would probably explode on him. No, it was best to humor him, but bring the conversation to a close. “Well next lesson with Dumbledore see if you can wheedle something out of him. If you have a moment alone he might have some correspondence on his desk or something you can read and get a clue from?”

“Good idea,” Harry said stoutly, as he rose from the bed to gather his book bag. “For now I’ve time to watch the map a bit while I get lunch. Maybe I’ll see if Draco or Snape are doing something different than usual.”

“Or you could get food and come back to play chess with your invalid friend,” Ron said with a smile.

Harry paused before he looked Ron in the eye for a moment.

“You’re pretty bored in here aren’t you?” he said, looking a bit shame faced. 

“I mean, I have the marvelous views of bedpans and Madame Pomphrey,” Ron said with a shrug. “And Hermione was in this morning, so that was nice.”

Harry nodded contemplatively. 

“Well, I have Potions after lunch, so I’ve not a lot of time to get to the Great Hall and the East Tower…”

“Don’t sweat it, mate,” Ron said immediately. He was trying to distract Harry from Draco, not make him guilty. Harry had enough guilt and suffering on his plate for a lifetime, and Ron wasn’t about to pile on. 

“Maybe if I skip lunch—”

“You’re scrawny enough! You’re not missing meals on my account,” Ron insisted. 

“I’ll see if I can come after dinner then? But I have practice… Well maybe after Charms, if he lets us out early. I could skip dinner then go by the kitchens on the way to practice.”

“If you manage to come by you’re welcome company, but seriously don’t even think of skipping a meal for me.”

“Fine fine, no skipped meals!” Harry relented. “Sorry I haven’t had much time to stay with you, though.”

“If it were reversed I’d never visit you. It’s boring as hell in here.”

“You’ve always managed to visit me loads when I’m in here,” Harry said with a knowing smile.

“Well that’s because I’m a better friend than you,” Ron teased. He feebly tossed a pillow at Harry, who didn’t need to bother blocking it. It barely made it to the foot of the bed. Harry’s mouth became a firm line as they stared at the pillow. 

“You’ll be well soon enough, and then it won’t matter.” 

Harry was pathetic at bolstering spirits and this was no exception. Ron understood, though, because of those bloody Muggles. The wooden smile that didn’t reach his eyes, the stiff way he held his body, and his inability to fake enthusiasm were a perfect combination to thoroughly depress a person. 

“Yeah…” Ron replied tightly. He knew he was supposed to be well soon, but of all the times he’d nearly died, this one felt the most real, and the consequences were much more frightening. He wasn’t sure how many more close calls he could take. “Well, get on out of here, you skinny git. If you pass out at practice from lack of nutrition Ginny’ll have my head.”

“When I have you back on the field I’ll make you pay for all the jokes about my size today!” Harry laughed as he left the hospital wing. Just as Harry reached the door Ron heard Lavender greet his friend. Ron quickly slammed his eyes shut and feigned sleep. In moments her footfalls, along with someone else’s, were next to his bed. 

“He’s asleep Lav. Let’s get going. Firenze is still considering doing a workshop, and I really think I can convince him if he sees we’re interested!”

“Oh, Parvati, I can’t! I’ve not visited Ron since yesterday!”

“But he’s asleep! He won’t know the difference.”

“He will, I just know it,” Lavender said stoutly before approaching the bed. He could feel the bed give as she sat on it and gently put her hand on his shoulder.

“Hello Won Won,” she whispered. He didn’t know why she thought she had to be quiet now, when she’d been at a normal volume not two feet away from him moments ago. “I don’t want to wake you of course, but I’m sorely tempted. I’ve got some new robes I want to show you again. I was wearing them on your birthday but you were on that horrid love potion then, so I don’t know if you properly saw them. I’m sure you’ll like them!”

Ron knew he should open his eyes and compliment her—  make her feel wanted and admired, especially after he’d rejected her to find Romilda the other day— but he couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eye and lead her on. It was a whisker width to outright lying.

Ron was a lot of things— poor, jealous, freckled, a right grumpy git— but he wasn’t a liar.

“Ok, Lav, you’ve been staring at him for like two minutes. He’s not waking up. Let’s go,” Parvati said, with much more patience than Ron would have in the same ridiculous situation.

“I suppose…” Lavender mumbled, a wobble to her voice. She slid off the bed and made her way to the door. “I can’t believe how much he’s sleeping! She must have him on an awful lot of potions!”

The door closed behind her, and Ron gave a great sigh of relief.

“Mr Weasley.”

“GAH!” 

He bolted straight up, hearing Madam Pomphrey’s voice so close to him. His head felt woozy at the quick change in position, and little spots swam in front of his eyes.

“I have your lunch,” she said, setting the tray down on his table. Ron looked towards the clock. 

“A bit later than usual,” Ron mused.

“Well seeing as you were working so very hard to feign sleep, I thought I’d not give you a reason to wake in front of her.”

“Thanks,” said Ron, flushing in embarrassment. 

“Hmm…” she said, giving him a beady look, put out his usual potions on his over-the-bed table, and whisked herself from the room. She normally hung about a little to inquire about his health, but he supposed she didn’t want to associate with such a cowardly arse.

Before he’d been poisoned, Lavender’s company was like a warm salve after the burning pangs of jealousy he felt over Hermione. Her touch, smiles, and comforting supporting were so easy and able to fill part of the void he’d felt in Hermione’s absence. He felt wanted and whole at times with her. The way she looked him… like he was the one person who made her heart lighter. He’d never in his wildest dreams be able to look back at Lavender that way. He wished he could. He’d tried his damnedest to get over Hermione, but he couldn’t hack it no matter how he tried. 

It was time he resign himself to the fact that he wasn’t getting over Hermione Granger. Not any time soon at least. Until his infatuation had blown over, he really couldn’t date another girl. He’d have to wait, and surely eventually he would stop fancying her. That or he’d fancy her until he died and ended up alone and bitter and turn into a sad bugger like Snape. 

Well, he’d never be able to stop being her friend, so he wouldn’t be completely alone. There was the errant hope that maybe she could fancy him back, but that was too much in the realm of unreality to fathom. 

Even if she never fancied him back, he needed her in his life, even if it was only as friends. Maybe he could end up better off than Snape and turn into a Dumbledore sort. He’d never be great or powerful, but maybe he could be a weirdo obsessed with sweets and grow his beard far too long. Yeah, that was doable. 

That evening Hermione brought Pig down to him so he could write his parents, and get to spend a bit of time with his silly pet. As ridiculous as his owl was, he cared about the little blighter something fierce. He might be pathetic, but he was all his. 

Hermione sat beside him on the bed, and she patiently wrote out his letters as he dictated them, stroking Pig’s little wings. He wished he could always have her write his letters. It wasn’t just for the convenience of it— though he had to admit, it was nice to avoid ink stains and hand cramps— but it was because he was at complete leisure to watch her writing as he’d never dared to before. It was better than when she fed  him the other day, because now she wasn’t aware of it. He could stare at her eyelashes as they fluttered down, the way her brow would give a tiny quirk when she finished a sentence, the way she’d bury her face behind a curtain of hair and she’d get a cute little double chin for a moment. Everything about her really was worth staring at. 

He knew he shouldn’t think about her like this and his gut squirmed in guilt. It was all kinds of wrong being entranced with one girl all the while avoiding his girlfriend for days. He was rotten and didn’t deserve either of them in his life. Inexplicably they still kept visiting him. He’d perk up and feel downright merry when Hermione would visit, and he’d pretend to be comatose whenever Lavender visited. 

Madam Pomfrey still had him on loads of potions, but had added in some little exercises for him to do in bed. They’d be simple tasks like ‘straighten your leg and tense the quad muscle here and hold for ten seconds’ or ‘take your hand and bend it back and hold it.’ They all seemed ludicrously easy and silly as she went through them with him, and they were easy the first few times he did it. He’d be shaking and sweating by the time he’d done all the little reps though.

The rest of the week dragged on, but by Saturday he was almost feeling himself. He was still sluggish and not back to full form composing papers, but he felt markedly more whole. He could get out of bed and walk to the loo unassisted and his memory was pretty spot on at this point, as long as he wasn’t too anxious or tired. 

He had finished putting on some clothes when Madam Pomfrey walked into the wing and gave a loud exclamation.

“What are you doing, Mr Weasley!”

“I wanted to go watch the Quidditch match.”

“I’m sorry, but you can’t make that long of a journey, plus the overexcitement of the game alone could cause a serious backslide for you.”

“What? How?” Ron angrily asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. He stood head and shoulders above the Healer but she stood her ground.

“Let me put it this way— remember when you injured your leg two years ago? You wouldn’t want to force yourself to walk on it when it was that badly broken.”

“I did walk on it,” Ron interrupted. 

“Oh yes! I quite remember,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “I normally can heal a broken leg in a trice, but you made it much worse it by walking on it, compounding your fracture, creating some real messy issues with your muscles and tendons— that’s why you were here much longer than a broken leg would take.”

“But I won’t be doing anything at the game! I’ll just be sitting there!”

“To an injured brain, almost anything beyond sleep is stressful and taxing on it. A Quidditch game to a boy like yourself? That’s like running a marathon for a brain. It’s simply too over-exciting.”

“This is completely mad! I’m fine! Catching up on studies is a hell of a lot more ‘stressful’ and ‘over-exciting’ than any match could be.”

He knew he was acting out of line, but there was no stopping his protests.

“We’ve already pushed your brain through enough stress as it is. I’m not about to let you go to today’s match and hurt yourself.”

“Hurt myself?” Ron scoffed. “It’s walking to tht pitch and back.”

“When you’re stressed or excited you have more frequent headaches, your memory deteriorates and your motor skills decrease. Imagine tripping coming back and hitting your head.  You might be in St. Mungo’s for good if that happened.”

“It’s not that bad…” he weakley protested.

“Do you remember when you could barely speak? Do you want to backslide to that?” she asked, arms akimbo.

His breath caught in his throat. He vividly remembered it. He still had nightmares about it. Low blow, Pomfrey… but effective.

He gave a moody shrug and sat back down on his bed.

“I’m sorry to have to be so harsh, Mr Weasley,” she said, sounding more kindly than usual, “but that’s the reality of this situation. I know you’re frustrated.”

He nodded, before toeing off his trainers and pushing himself back onto the bed.

He was mulishly staring at the wall when Harry came to visit, firebolt broom over his shoulder, dressed in his Quidditch uniform and looking far more at ease than Ron ever had before a game. Part of Ron was relieved he didn’t have to play, but after he’d done so well last game he thought he might be able to handle the pre-game jitters better this time. 

“All right?” Harry asked as he sat on Ron’s bed.

“No,” Ron bit back. Harry raised his eyebrows, prompting Ron to try to control his temper. “Pomfrey won’t let me go to the match.”

“What, why?”

“Says it might ‘overexcite me’ or something…” 

He understood it was a bigger deal than that, but there was no way he would reveal how bad things were to Harry. Harry had been rather oblivious to Ron’s worse symptoms, and Ron was happy to keep his friend in the dark.

“Bollocks, you’d only be sitting there!”

“That’s what I said!” he complained, throwing his hands up in frustration. “I hate being an invalid… How’s McLaggen shaping up?”

Would the bastard take his place on the team?

“Still a complete knob head.”

“Good— I mean, I want you to do well at the game of course. And that Smith character will be playing, so I’m hoping you kick his arse round the field a few times.”

“We’d perform a lot better with you there,” said Harry. It was a complete lie, of course, as Ron knew he was a shit player more often than not, but it was a rather nice lie. “I can’t keep losing my star players, though. If it weren’t for Ginny and Demelza our team would be complete shit today.”

“You’re alright too,” Ron said with a small punch to Harry’s arm.

“Thanks,” he replied, giving a dismissive shrug. “Won’t count for much if we’re getting scored on every ten seconds.”

“Oh? McLaggen not shaping up too well?”

“No…” Harry said, eyeing Ron. “You sure you’re doing alright?”

“M’fine. Should be out of here soon. No blood spewing, can walk about and everything. Definitely capable of watching a match,” he huffed. It was bad enough being endlessly trapped in the hospital wing and not getting to play— but it was downright miserable having his place filled by McLaggen. Hermione had said there was nothing between them… Then again she said that about Krum too… She never badmouthed Krum, so at least there was that. Perhaps if McLaggen did poorly at the match it would cement her disdain for the troll permanently. She might talk loftily about how little she cared for Quidditch, but she had a track record of dating really good players. She’d said as much back in December before her date with McLaggen. The thought made him wring his hands.

“So how’s McLaggen shaping up?” he asked, nervously fidgeting with his duvet cover. Harry made a grim face.

“I’ve told you,” said Harry, a bit slowly. Bugger. He’d forgotten he asked. Perhaps he was a bit anxious…  Maybe skipping the match today wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“He could be world-class and I wouldn’t want to keep him. He keeps trying to tell everyone what to do, he thinks he could play every position better than the rest of us. I can’t wait to be shot of him. And speaking of getting shot of people,” Harry added, rising from the bed to shoulder his broom, “will you stop pretending to be asleep when Lavender comes to see you? She’s driving me mad as well.”

“Oh,” said Ron, looking away. He hadn’t realized anyone knew he was feigning sleep beyond Pomfrey and Hermione that one time. “Yeah. All right.”

“If you don’t want to go out with her anymore, just tell her.”

“Yeah ... well ... it’s not that easy, is it?” said Ron.

Ron boggled at what awful advice that was. Harry hadn’t ever had to properly break up with a girl. Hell, he’d barely dated anyone. Cho and Harry’s relationship, if you could even call it that, consisted of one horrible date and one kiss under some mistletoe. They never spent time with one another, and he was reasonably sure Cho had never really looked at Harry the way Lavender looked at him. If anything, it was the opposite. Cho was still hung up on another person… he never thought he’d sympathize with Cho Chang, but perhaps Hermione hadn’t been too off when she was overanalyzing the girl last year. 

He was so confused, fancying Hermione, but genuinely caring for Lavender. He didn’t fancy her, but he liked her. And there was a sense of safety knowing he could turn around and have a girl cheering him on, no questions asked. Then there was that horrible guilt he couldn’t escape that kept gnawing at him. He felt so much he thought he might explode. He wished he could sit down and have Hermione help overanalyze himself a bit. There was no way to have her help him since she was one of his main concerns, but he couldn’t help wishing it. He hadn’t seen her this morning at all, and he was feeling a bit wobbly for it.

“Hermione going to look in before the match?” He couched this very smoothly, he thought. Just the right sort of casualness that Harry wouldn’t be able to catch on how much longed to see Hermione.

“No, she’s already gone down to the pitch with Ginny.”

“Oh,” said Ron. This was a right shit day. “Right. Well, good luck. Hope you hammer McLag — I mean, Smith.”

“I’ll try,” said Harry, shouldering his broom. “See you after the match.” With that Harry was racing out of the ward and Ron was left, once again, stuck by himself in the hospital wing with no company.

The window was open, and if he strained his ears he might be able to make out what the commentator was saying. He waited in equal parts anticipation and dread for the game to begin. He paced a bit, but found it too tiring to keep up.

He laid back in bed wondering what to do with himself when Madam Pomfrey brought a small box that looked like an ancient wizarding wireless and put it beside his bed. It was wooden with little brass knobs and speaker.

“Now, if you promise to stay relatively calm, I’ll leave this here for the entirety of the game.”

She waved a wand over it and he heard Luna Lovegood come onto the wireless.

“The sun has been shining through the clouds so very prettily. I saw one cloud that very much looked like a Horned Hodag today, and I think we all know what that portends for a Quidditch match.”

Ron hadn’t the foggiest what it could mean to see something like that in the clouds, but he gave a hearty laugh, the first good guffaw he’d had in weeks. 

“Thanks, Madam Pomfrey!” he enthused, settling deeper into his covers. She gave him a warm smile before leaving to do whatever it was she got up to in her office.

What barking lunatic had thought to give Luna a microphone and a platform to speak from? Oh this was going to be glorious.

“The Hufflepuff team are all in their uniforms of yellow and black. I think they look more like bumblebees than they want to. Especially the big one. Yes he looks very much like an angry bumblebee, especially now that he’s glaring at me like that.”

“The other team is Gryffindor, of course. I like them a lot. Hufflepuff are known for being friendly, but the Gryffindors have all been a lot more friendly to me. There’s a big player standing in for Ron Weasley today, but he doesn’t look as friendly or red-haired. I think it’s Tarmac Blaggins?”

“Cormac McLaggen!” McGongall corrected, sounding very unamused. Ron beamed, wishing he could see the two of them interacting.

“Oh no, there’s no remembering that. I’m just going to call him the Gryffindor Keeper… He was very loud at the Christmas party I went to, and is not very funny.”

The game began, and from what he could tell from Luna’s wandering commentary, McLaggen was as useless as a bag of bludgers dropped in a bathtub. Ron knew he shouldn’t root for his replacement to fail, but he was only human. His cheeks began to hurt from smiling. 

“Zacharias Smith is not very good at holding the quaffle for long. Perhaps he just isn’t good at holding things in general? Or it could be a case of — oh wait, he has the ball perhaps— oh dear, dropped it again. Yes, I’m quite certain that he has contracted a very bad case of Loser’s Lurgy…”

“Oh look! The Gryffindor Keeper's got hold of one of the Beater's bats. I don’t think that’s very usual for this game. And— oh dear!”

Ron could hear the whole audience at the pitch give a terrible sound of alarm, and even McGongall gave a great yell he could hear over the wireless.

“The Gryffindor Keeper Porkluck McFloodle hit a bludger right into Harry Potter’s head! My, he fell off his broom from very high up. The Gryffindor Beaters have caught him though. There is an awful lot of blood… What a strange strategy to employ at this point in the game.”  

Ron heard a sound from Pomfrey’s office, and a moment later she bustled into the ward a determined look on her face.

“Ginny looks so upset. The Gryffindor Beaters Ceakes and Poot are busy moving Harry, but the team hasn’t called a time-out. The Gryffindor Keeper let the quaffle through. Oh no! Without a captain they can’t call a time-out can they… The Hufflepuffs are scoring quite a lot of points now. Even Smith has managed to hold the quaffle a bit, despite his Loser’s Lurgy.”

Demelza and Dean managed only one goal each, while Hufflepuff trounced them soundly and the match ended with Hufflepuff mercifully catching the snitch..

Harry was brought into the ward on a stretcher not long after the team lost. Ginny, Hermione, and McGongall were marching behind it looking rather stricken. Harry did look a mess, all pale and lifeless— but Ron figured it was no big deal compared to some of the other things he’d faced, right? Ginny looked rather close to tears as Harry was spelled off the stretcher and onto the bed. 

Pomfrey waved her wand and diagnostic spells hummed around his head and neck, lighting his pale face before she closed the curtains around Harry.

“Oh Merlin,” Ginny moaned, moving over to Ron’s bed. He put an arm round his sister.

“He’s got a hard head,” Ron offered with a smile. 

His smile fell as Hermione stayed beside Harry’s bed, biting her lip and watching with worry. A fleeting terrible thought of Hermione fancying Harry darted through him. He’d entertained the thought before, and like always he quickly swatted it away. 

“That stupid McLaggen. I want to hex him into oblivion,” Ginny growled, wiping at her eyes. “The whole game was a complete shitshow. Ron, if you aren’t back on the team next week, I might quit.”

“He’s that bad?” Ron tried to say with sympathy, but he knew he was failing miserably given the punch he received.

“Oi! How am I supposed to be back on the team if you attack me when I’m healing!” he said, rubbing at his arm.

“I ought to hex you for making us get stuck with him in the first place.”

“Ah yeah, sorry about that. I’ll try really hard not to get randomly poisoned next week. That do?”

“I suppose it must,” she said with dramatic flair, before sitting in Hermione’s usual place at his side. For a moment he wanted to kick her out so he could entice Hermione to cozy up with him, but he could sense his sister was a bit rattled and needed some support. 

Hermione finally left Harry’s side to join them.

“Pomfrey said it’s a cracked skull, but she can heal it easily and he’ll be fine by Monday. He’ll be staying here at least overnight,” she informed them.

“There, see?” Ron said to his sister. “It wouldn’t be a proper school year if Harry wasn’t hospitalized unconscious at least once.”

“Well I am quite tired of the two of you getting injured all the time,” Hermione fretted.

“Here here!” Ginny agreed.

“You’ve been hospitalized a good bit too, Hermione,” he reminded her. She’d had plenty of short stints, but there were three long ones she’d endured that he would never forget.

The first had been when she had the accident with Polyjuice potion and had turned into a human-cat hybrid. She’d been trapped in the ward for almost a month. That hadn’t been so bad. He missed her during the day, but it was nice to spend time with her alone, helping her to catch up on her studies. He’d ever had better notes before or since.

The second time she’d been petrified by the basilisk. That had been pure torture seeing her usual expressive face frozen in shock. He visited her quite often, despite the lack of interaction, and talked to her about all sorts of things. It was like talking to an imaginary friend. He knew how she would have reacted, and could see it quite clearly in his mind. He’d always wondered if she could hear what all he’d said, but never had the guts to ask her. It had been bad, but there was a cure on the way, and somehow death just didn’t seem like a possibility for them. He used the news that she was ok to power some of his earliest patronuses.

The third time was the worst. The fight inside the Department of Mysteries had been the closest to death he had ever been. He was covered in the ugly scars of it and still haunted by nightmares. When he finally woke up in the hospital wing Hermione was beside him and she looked so pale and still that he was convinced she was dead. He kept checking her pulse, and was reassured by the medi-witch she wasn’t dead— but it had been too close a call for him to feel comforted. She’d nearly died! They’d all cheated death, a bunch of kids against full-grown Death Eaters. It almost felt like death himself would swoop in to chastise them like the Three Brothers in the old fairy tale. Death felt tangible and real. He supposed it had already felt that way for Harry since Cedric died, but it really sank in for him how very mortal they all were.

Ron chose to put his life on the line a fair number of times and figured that would be his role in it all. He would be a shield for the real heroes, like Harry and Hermione. And he was fine with that. It’s not like he wanted to die or anything, but he wasn’t particularly surprised when he’d had another close call. That was just part of it. He had to do his duty and keep Harry and everyone else safe. 

It shook him to have others going out there doing the same thing. When he’d been running through the department of mysteries he had lagged behind his sister and Luna, doing everything he could to shield them from the onslaught of spells. Hermione wasn’t supposed to be a shield or wand-fodder like he was. She was supposed to go on to do great things, like Harry. He couldn’t fathom a world without her, and wished he had a way to convince her to stay safe in a library somewhere instead of following him and Harry into danger all the time. A world without Hermione was unthinkable. He didn’t want to live in a world without Hermione.

“Yes, we all spend too much time here,” Hermione said with a sniff. “I’m quite tired. I think I’ll go take a nap. I’ll see you tomorrow, Ron.”

With that she practically fled from the hospital room. Ron looked to Ginny for answers, and she gave a shrug.

“It’s been a tough week. First you, now Harry… It’s enough to make anyone feel overwhelmed.”

He had a feeling Ginny wasn’t just speaking for Hermione.

“Don’t worry. We’ll be out of the hospital wing and driving you mad in no time.”

“You manage quite well even from the hospital bed,” she said with a grin.

“Tell me about the game, then. Luna’s version, while spectacular, was a bit hard to follow.”

Ginny went into all the details of the game, doing a great impression of McLaggen that left him in stitches, and nearly got her kicked out by Pomfrey.

“He gave a terrible speech before the game like he was captain when Harry was running late.”

“Late? Harry left here with plenty of time to get there.”

“I don’t know. He barely made it for the kick off, though.”

Ron would have to poke Harry about that later. Ginny gave him a hug and a kiss on the top of his head before climbing off the bed. 

“I’m off to shower the stench of losing off me before it sets in. Don’t want to get Loser’s Lurgy!” she smiled.

“Check in on Hermione, will you? She’ll be lonely without Harry.”

“Or you.”

“Well…” he began, but Ginny gave him a hard knowing look. “You’ll check on her?”

“Of course. We are friends you know. I might not be in your little ‘secret trio club’, but I do talk with her.”

“Secret trio club?” Ron asked.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “I’ve not the patience to get into that today. Break the news of our loss to Harry easy.”

“Will do,” he said with a salute to his sister. 

He was glad to spend time with her like this. As children they’d been joined at the hip, being the youngest. He didn’t necessarily want her company at times, as the Twins gave him so much grief for it— but it had been such an easy companionship. He wished they could have that easy of a time now. She was just so prickly with him. He missed how sweet she’d been when they were knee high to gnomes and climbing over the cobbled walls together.  Now there was always so much attitude towards him, as if he was a stand-in for everyone who had ever annoyed her. He didn’t mind it most of the time, but it would be nice to not have her teenage rebellion aimed at him every time they talked.

As much as he had enjoyed their short time together, he was still a bit miffed she’d made him miss out on his time with Hermione. He was hoping Hermione would have stayed with him as she’d been doing every day. He looked to the corner and saw that the bedpan Hermione had burned his papers in was still sitting in the corner, charred as ever. 

How had the meticulous Pomfrey not noticed it? 

He glanced over at her and saw she was still wrapping Harry’s head in about a million meters of tape.

As inconspicuously as he could, Ron slipped from the bed and went to the corner to inspect the bed pan. He poked it, and it stayed firmly in place,most likely held by a sticking charm. There seemed to be a subtle shimmer to it as he looked— whatever the spell it kept Pomfrey, or anyone other than Ron, from noticing it. It was like a little monument to them. 

Ron felt warmth course through him all over at the thought.

In moments like those he could pretend she was his girl, and not just his very good friend. 

He caught himself daydreaming that often enough. Whenever she’d sit close to him in his bed he’d been quite unable to escape the thought, with their legs touching, her elbow resting a bit on his stomach as they crammed together on the bed. If she were his girl he’d be able to put his hands in her hair, and lean in with his face right against hers. He could nibble on those little ears he’d never touched before. He’d be able to toss the letters to the side and kiss her until his head was swimming from lack of oxygen. He’d be able to laugh and hold her hand any time he liked. He’d lean in and whisper in her ear how much he fancied her and she’d tell him how much she loved him back, saying - “

“Oh no!” Ron let out, jerking himself upright from the bedpan. 

Shit! He loved her. He didn’t fancy her. He loved her!

His stomach lurched and he thought he was going to be sick from nerves.

“Are you quite well Mr Weasley?” he heard Madam Pomfrey ask from Harry’s bedside, looking up at him with concern.

“Spiffing! Just had a small cramp. I’m fine!” he lied, letting out a slightly hysterical sound that might have resembled a laugh. He wasn’t sure. 

He loved Hermione! 

Maybe it was the clarity that came from having almost died, but he now knew with certainty— this wasn’t just a crush he had on Hermione. It was that real deal, want to throw yourself from the astronomy tower, write poxy poetry, bolts of lightning, do anything for them kind of love. 

This was too much! He wasn’t supposed to love her! He wasn’t even supposed to fancy her!

She’d barely shown a sign she might welcome any sort of advance from him, let alone allow him to love her. He was so crap, and she was so great. How did one keep a secret like this? It felt a bit like when he’d been love potioned. He wanted to tell everyone. He wanted to tell her! 

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t tell a soul. God, if he didn’t watch it, he might blurt it out accidentally. That was a horrifying thought.

It was the absolute shittiest thing that could ever happen in the history of wizardom. And why? Why did he have to realize it now? He had no right to it! None at all. He had a girlfriend. A really nice, if a bit silly, girlfriend. And Hermione? She had no interest in him like that at all. 

This was the most mental thing that had ever happened. And there was nothing he could do about it at all. Well… fuck. It was a hopeless situation.

He thought back to Harry’s advice to just end things with Lavender. That would be easy enough, wouldn’t it? But then again… the thought of making her cry made him ill. He couldn’t very well tell her ‘I have an unrequited love for Hermione, so kindly eff off? But I hope we can still be friends!’ 

He’d tried earlier that year to pull away from her a bit and let her just naturally lose interest. Perhaps he could just drop a hint here or there and let his actions speak for him. He knew for a fact he didn’t have the words. 

He’d have to carry on as usual, even though he felt a bit like doing the conga and offing himself all at once. At least he had a few moments to himself to process it. It’d be hours before Harry was awake, most likely, and Pomfrey would be holed up in her office soon enough.

Resigned, he lay back in his bed, turning himself away from the little charred bedpan in the corner. 

==========================================================================================================================

Author’s note: Sorry this took so long to get out- hope you found it was worth the wait! 

If you liked it, please give it a reblog and/or comment! :) 

They give me such motivation to write more! :D

[voidselfshipp]

Puppet Show au

《◇》

Leonard's little neighborhood in Sydenham is pretty calm today.

He plays with the keys in his hand, twirling them aroun on his finger, as he exists his home,walking his mind dwells into memories that arent relevant in this exact moment, good moments with his sister, little stupid stories , time spent with Friends and family.

Suddenly an eldery woman stops him, her beautiful face, with traces of the years that went by contorns into a small smile,he knows her,its ms.Pietro from a couple of houses away.

-Hello dear, are you in a rush?-

"Not really"leonard thinks and shakes his head.

-Could you take care of my grandkid, Jerico this thursday?, Im going to the hospital that day for some check ups and to pay some bills, and you know that the Banks are usually filled with lot of people-

-Sure ms.Pietro, do you need anything more?-leo asks, he was always a bit reserved,maybe quiet, but with a heart of gold.

The woman shakes her head.

-Im heading to see your mother, is she around?-

-Im afraid not, but she Will be soon enough , ill see you on thursday ms.pietro -

They exchange goodbyes as the englishman checks the supermaket list his mom left him before heading to work.

His steps are short and slow.

" ms.pietro's grandkid, jerico,...wait arent they the kid thats always on the swing on the local park?...Wait yeah!,they are" jerico was just like him, quiet, softspoken, humble and kind,but Something tells him that under all that kindness there is an iron Will" then it should be easy" he thinks.

Eventually thursday rolls around and now Leonard sits on the couch in ms.pietro's house, he is playing chess with jerico, the kid is Smart and playful,they always have a smug grin on their face.

He also finds them hilarious, they bring him something that he feels rarely.

Peace, and happiness.

Even tho they are temporary, the kid knows how to make people smile.

Wish he had Friends like that.

At around ten pm, miss pietro comes back with the kid's mother, Kina, he says goodbye and heads home,he still has to finish some Papers for the writing contest.

Contest that he couldnt attend because the goverment picked him as a sniper.

He had to go.

But before he enters the car that Will lead him to his New home, jerico arrived, with a plushie in the form of a cute chibi plaguedoctor.

-Mr Leonard!,before you go-jeri says out of breath, did...did they ran to get here?-their name is void!, they helped me trough rough times , And I think its time for them to help you too, if you have any problems just talkto them!, they Will answer-

Leo softly grabs the plushie and his eyes water, thats the cutest thing anybody had done for him, he hugs the kid.

-Stay safe,alright kid?-

-I will-

He nodds and enters the car.

-Farewell Leo!- he hears them say.

《◇》

Its been a couple of years after he left, now Leonard works as a mercenary, he often ponders about that kid, what are they up to?, hows their life going?.

He also still has the plushie they gave him,To this day, he diminished the comment about the plushie being able to talk as just imagination,even tho late at night,after a long day of work and complaining in his room he could hear the faint murmurs of words of reassurance coming from the Shelf where he left void on.

Its a cold winter morning in london, he walks the snowy sidewalk and enters his usual coffee shopp " Beans,bindweed And sunflower seeds", the ambient there is cozy,the strong but gentle smell of coffee makes his grumpy face a bit happier, the corners of his mouth lift up with a slight smile.

He orders and waits, his eyes catch a glance of a woman,black leather jacket,a little plaguedoctor painted ,and around the sleeves various patches and pins,some crows,sunflowers, dragons.

He mindlessly walks to his spot, and bumps into someone, its that same Lady from two second ago,luckily nothing is spilled.

-Oh my god im really sorry-the woman says, fixing her hair with an embarassed look.

-Its okay , dont worry-his tone is relaxed, with a hint of shyness.

But now that hes up close,there is something really familiar about her.

-Im sorry for the out of the blue question but, have we met before?,you look a lot like a kid I babysitted Back in Sydenham...-

The woman tries to solve the puzzle in her head,and then it clicks.

-No way, Leonard is that you?-

-Holy shit, yeah its me, hell, how much youve grown little jerico-

They talk and sit besides the Window.

-Man, youve grown into a beautiful woman-Leo says.

-Well, not quite woman,see I uh, im genderfluid, long story short I change my pronouns every now and the,its him today tho..-

Leonard quickly recomposes.

-Youve grown into a handsome Man -

Jerico smiles and his eyes spark.

They talk and chatter most of the morning, until the englishman is called to work.

-Tomorrow, same spot, six am then?-jeri asks.

-Yeah sure, ill also bring the little doll you gave me when I left-

-Holy shit, you still got that?-

-I wouldnt throw it away for nothing in the world-

Jerico Coos.

-Thats really cute-he says.

-they are well kept,washed and it still smells like vanilla-

-Thats adorable Leo, thanks for taking care of void that way-

-No need-Leo checks the time...fuck hes going to be late.

Jerico senses the distress and quickly grabs his motorcycle helmet .

-Need a ride?-

-Fuck yes, im going to be bloody late!-

Both speed to the little bridge that separates mercserv from the rest of london.

-here take my cellphone and call me if anything comes up, okay?- Leo says quickly scribbling his number in a spare pice of paper-Thanks for the ride-

-Dont mention it, now go-

Leonard nodds and runs trough the bridge.

Jeri turns the motorcycle around and drives yo his home.

《◇》

Jerico's face hit the pillow, its been a long and wonderful day, he looks over to the ceiling and grabs his phone.

《》

Leo☕

-Hey, wanna come over to my place and stay for dinner?

《》

It takes less than five minutes for Leo to answer.

' sure,im on my way'

Jeri quickly tidys up the place and just when he is done , Leonard rings the doorbell.

-Good evening jeri-he says entering the house with something behind his back.

-Hey Leo..., what do you have there?..-

-Oh nothing-the englishman says-just a little something very important to me- he shows him the little plushie.

-oh god , you actually brought it!,god I havent seen void in ages!-The other Man grabs the plaguedoctor plush and smiles,he hugs Leonard and smiles-Thank you Leo!-

-dont mention it-

They order food and set the table.

Suddenly a song comes in.

I met this girl and she drove me wild.

She looked at me and I looked and smile.

The cutest girl you could ever see.

I never thought she'd go out with me.

-Im in love! I just cant wait because tooonight I have a daate!-leonard chimes in and starts to sing.

Jerico smiles and looks at him ,he does have a good voice, and he is in synch with the song too,he swears he can see void dancing besides the fruit basket.

Both of them start to goof around and suddenly Leo has his back against the counter, jeri hovers above him and they are really close, the woman's hands are on either side of the counter, trapping the englishman's torso around them.

I never dream it would come to this.

She leans over and the Man closes the gap between them.

I drove her home and she gave me a kiss.

Im in love and its safe to say, she really wants to see me again.

They eventually pull apart and smile, the womans head snuggles into Leo's chest, he hugs her and chuckles.

The old feelings are coming back.

Peace and happiness.

Im in love,I just cant wait, because tonight I have a date.

I have a date!

Im in love, I just cant wait,becuase tonight I have a date.

The song finishes and the doorbell rings.

-Perfect timing!-

They kiss one more time and jerico goes and pays for the food.

Late at night both lay on the bed , the woman is atop of him,face resting on his chest.

-Im so in love with you -Leo mutters, half asleep.

-Me too...-jerico mumbles as they exchange one last loving look before falling asleep.

In between their hands, its the little plushie, who squeals when they see them cuddling.

'Mission accomplished!' Void thinks.

《◇》

-The end.

[nightnight-comic]

Nightnight

Prologue - Part 9/10

<Previous - Next>

The four of them settled into a night of card games, friendly chatter and drinks. As birthday surprises go Ivan thought it was pleasant, hanging out with his housemates in a relaxed environment. Clubbing would have been no fun tonight, and simple as it was a games night was captivating enough that he was no longer checking his phone every five minutes.

The evening was not without a little derailing. Krys, a testy but charismatic troublemaker, was evidently getting bored. Several rounds into a game he took a card from his hand and slid it face down onto the table, announcing “Go fish.” This got a few raised eyebrows, and as usual Alex interjected.

“That… That’s not even the right game.” They sighed disparagingly. Krys cocked his head in fake confusion, further irritating Alex.

“Oh.” Krys pouted. “What were we playing again?”

Ivan knew by now that these two just loved to engage in petty arguments, and rather than listen to their pointless row he instead turned to Sammi, who was rolling their eyes at the squabblers.

“So… I talked to my professor about dropping out.” This was a conversation he had had with Sammi many times. As his best friend they were the only one he felt comfortable talking to about such embarrassing and delicate matters. As much as they wanted Ivan to stay Sammi was the one who pushed him to start looking at other options. Upon hearing that he had done so they couldn’t help frowning a little.

“Oh yeah?” They tried to say coolly. “Was she upset?”

“Nah, she was really helpful.” Ivan told them. “I’m going to see her before my lecture tomorrow to discuss my options.”

“Yikes.” Sammi chuckled a little. “Isn’t your lecture at 8am?” Ivan laughed nervously in response.

“Yeah, but it’s the only time we’re both free.” He replied. “And I really, really want to have a plan. As soon as possible. I think my dad’s catching on to the fact that I’m not really… Happy with this course.”

“Oh, he doesn’t know?” Ivan looked away as Sammi spoke, only furthering their concern. “I thought you were going to tell him when he came ‘over today.”

Ivan knotted his hands and gave a curt sigh of frustration. “I was going to… But I didn’t.” He said shortly. The sound of Krys and Alex’s increasingly heated argument filled an awkward pause before Sammi spoke.

“If you’re worried he’ll be ashamed of you, don’t.” They reassured. “I know how much he adores you, he only wants you to be happy.” When Ivan did not respond Sammi reached out and held his fiddling hands in one of their own, causing his fingers to be still. “You deserve to be happy.” Ivan looked at them now, a warm smile on their perfect, rosy cheeks. He smiled back.

“Than-“ Before he could finish talking, Krys lunged at him, giggling madly as he attempted to hide behind Ivan.

“PSYCHOLOGY IS A REAL SCIENCE!!” Alex boomed from barely a metre away. Sammi leapt from their seat, switching instantly into Mum-friend mode.

“Alex! Put DOWN the footstool!!!”

 ***

Sammi quickly resolved the conflict by assigning Alex to a less vocal game. Ivan was not 10 minutes into a chess game with them, and while he insensly thought through each and every move, Alex breezed through on either pure talent or dumb luck, and was now playing with the pieces they had already captured. They held a pawn between their thumb and index finger and held it up to eye level.

“Does it ever occur to you that Chess is totally a war strategy game?” They pondered. Ivan didn’t even look up from the board.

“... Can’t say I’ve ever thought of it that way.” He answered honestly.

“It is though!” They flicked the pawn across the table and began arranged other pieces into shapes. “The whole point of it is driving back the other player’s forces and trying to invade their land. It’s all war strategy; being one step ahead of the enemy, being smarter rather than stronger.” Ivan moved his bishop after a long inner debate, only for Alex’s queen to swoop into the gap it left and take his remaining knight. “Each piece has its role, a talent that the others can’t succeed without.” They swallowed the knight in their fist and gave Ivan a sly smile. “And sometimes the only way to survive is to sacrifice others for the greater good.”

At this point Ivan was rather sick of loosing embarrassingly to someone who wasn’t even paying attention to the game. “Wow.” He said with all the sarcasm he could muster. “I’m 14 and this is deep.”

“Shut up and let me be dramatic!”

<Previous - Next>

[swfanficbyjz]

I Am The Fulcrum - SW AU

Pairing: Brotp Anakin/Ahsoka 

So, awhile ago, @litheian gave me the idea of a Time Travel AU where Ahsoka goes back in time to before Anakin’s mother died and how that would all play out. Up until that point, I’d been really resistant to write time travel stuff because it feels so unrealistic. But the idea got me curious and the next thing I knew, another full-length story happened. There is a little romantic stuff between Anakin and Ahsoka just because it felt right for what was going on with the story (they’re the same age at the time), but ultimately, it’s about their close friendship and what they’d do for each other. Hope you enjoy it!

Part 1:

Chapter 1:

I am Fulcrum. I am part of the rebellion. I’m trying to destroy the very thing I helped build. Of course, I didn’t know I was helping build it. If Anakin were here, would he be proud of me? Would he be fighting by my side like I once fought by his?

She ran her fingers across the curved hilt of one of her new lightsabers. They were foreign to her, yet familiar. They were thinner than her old ones but they felt like they belonged in her hands and when lit, they were the brightest white she’d ever seen. She didn’t know lightsabers could be white. She tried searching her memory for any mention of white lightsabers throughout the history of the Jedi, but she came up empty. What did it mean? She wasn’t special, not like Anakin had been. He was the Chosen One. If anyone should have carried a white lightsaber, it was him. Instead, she carried not one, but two. She wasn’t a Jedi anymore. She wasn’t a Sith either. Yet the force had brought her back to something bigger. It was preparing her for something. 

“Ahsoka?” She looked up to see Bail looking at her with concern. “Are you alright?”

“Sorry,” she replied. “It’s been awhile.” 

“Are you sure you want to do this? We could use the help, but if you’re not up for it…”

“No, I am.” She gave him a reassuring smile. I just have to get my head back in the game. Everything that had happened on Raada was still fresh on her mind. But she’d been stupid, and reckless. I thought I’d gotten past that. She felt a tug in the force; A pull in a direction she didn’t want to go. She tried to push it away, but it only buzzed harder. “There’s something I need to do first.” 

“How can I help?” Bail asked.

“Can you take me back to the Jedi temple on Coruscant?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. Why did she want to go there? What was she hoping to find? Even if there were other Jedi still out there, even if the purge had never happened, she didn’t belong there anymore. Did she honestly think she’d find Anakin? He’s dead. Let it go.

“The temple is nothing but rubble now, I’m afraid,” Bail was saying. “I’m not sure if there’s anything there to find.” 

Except ghosts. “I feel like there’s something there I need to do.” She admitted. “It might help the rebellion.” 

“Well, I can get you close. Only a couple people have codes to get through the security checkpoints. There’s a few guards around the complex, which probably won’t be a problem for you, but the place is crawling with probe droids and scavengers. The Emperor has been pretty keen on discovering all its secrets.”

She felt sick. The idea of all those grubby hands on a place so sacred. No matter where the force led her now, she still held the ideals of the Jedi. Some part of her that she’d been trying to bury, still wanted to be one. It was impossible though. She’d made the decision to leave and there was nothing to go back to anyways. So why is it telling me I should? “If you could drop me down on level 1313, I can get there on foot. That would probably be safer for you too.”  

“Level 1313? That’s a seedy part of town. Are you sure?”

She smiled again. “Yeah, I’m sure. I can take care of myself, besides, I have an old friend there if I need it.” She hoped he was still there. Although she didn’t tell Bail that she had no intention of going to him even if she got into trouble. Nyx might never have known she’d once been a Jedi, but she wanted to avoid interactions with anyone. Mainly she wanted to avoid awkward questions. 

---

Ahsoka threw up her hood. At least in the lower levels of Coruscant people had enough of their own problems to notice her. She’d tried to talk herself out of this all the way back, but the closer she got, the stronger her feeling that she needed to go there. 

She looked up past the flashing lights, busy traffic and towering buildings to the empty skyline where the five peaks of the temple had once been visible. She shivered and pulled her coat even tighter. She’d once walked those hallways looking out at the bustling city, feeling safe… untouchable. Even before the building itself had come crashing down, her world had. She couldn’t even remember the last time she felt safe. 

She slipped into the shadows, disguising her force signature, stepping forward large distances at a time. Keeping her head down she’d duck into an occasional alleyway as probes or police went by. As she joined the larger crowds, she sidled up the side of some apartments, preferring the clearer path across the rooftops. 

At the edge of the skyscrapers the city opened into a flatter area with shorter buildings. Ships of all shapes and sizes weaved back and forth through the sky in a chess board pattern. The wind tugged at her hood and she pulled it back around her face without thinking. Her heart raced as she scanned the horizon. Coruscant felt empty to her now. Memories washed over her. She wished she could forget. In all her lazy daydreams as a youngling, she never could have imagined this. Life had seemed so simple; so easy back then. Even once she’d started as a padawan. She’d given Anakin a hard time for all the trouble they ended up in, but she would give anything to have those days back; to have him back. She’d even be happy to hear Master Kenobi prattle on about protocols and procedure. Or Master Yoda and his backwards way of talking, or Master Windu and his frowning look of disdain. The truth was… she missed them all. They hadn’t trusted her; they’d thrown her out like the trash. But none of that really mattered anymore. If they appeared in front of her, she’d forgive them in an instant. 

Stop it. She chided herself. You’re only making it harder. Focus. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She breathed easier as the force flooded in stronger every time she inhaled. She focused on clearing her mind and pushing the pain aside for now. She opened her eyes and looked towards the ruins, only vaguely acknowledging the pang that hit her. A path towards her destination illuminated in the force. She nodded to herself, glanced around to see if the coast was clear and let the it guide her the rest of the way to the temple. 

---

It had been easy to slip past the guards, they’d been deep in their own conversation. Clearly, they were convinced no one would be fool enough to enter. Apparently, she was. She kept her senses wide open. She couldn’t feel droids in the force, but if she was paying attention, she could hear them in enough time to hide. 

Now that she was in, she had no idea what she was looking for. Bail had been right, there wasn’t much left. What had she expected? That it would be sitting there in the middle with a sign? 

Sighing deeply, she watched the patrol pattern of the droids and troopers for a while and found a corner they didn’t seem to go by very often. Hidden between two fallen columns, she knelt and started meditating. The pain of all that had occurred here was distracting. Yet, she found herself searching through it, looking for him. If Anakin had died here, like so many others, she knew she’d find the memory in there somewhere. She hated herself for wanting to feel it, for wanting to know. But every time she’d reached into the force for him, it had felt like a broken conduit. Like the pathway had simply been cut. It didn’t feel like death to her, it just felt empty. It was as if he’d simply gone missing and if he was just missing… she had to find him. Even if finding him meant witnessing his death. She had to know the truth. 

“Attachment is forbidden for Jedi.” Her eyes snapped open at the voice but there was no one there. She waited for a few minutes but it didn’t speak again. She shrugged and went back to meditating. My mind is playing tricks on me.

She fell deeper and deeper into her search, throwing caution to the wind as she searched for him. She felt anger; familiar anger. She turned her search towards it feeling as though she was getting close to the truth. “Why are you here?” This time when her eyes snapped open, a temple guardian stood in front of her. 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. 

“I think you do.” It replied from behind the white faceless mask. It’s brown ceremonial robes blowing slightly in the breeze. The double-bladed lightsaber hilt, hanging from its belt. 

“I miss him.” She said, emotions she’d been trying to repress tumbling out her eyes before she could stop them. “I miss all of them.”

“Attachments is forbidden for Jedi.” It repeated the first thing she’d heard.

“I know.” She said, leaning forward to rest on the palms of her hands so the temple guardian couldn’t see her face that was streaked with tears. They fell on the stone below her now. 

“He cannot come back from where he’s gone.” She squeezed her eyes shut at his words. “But if you still wish to become a Jedi, I can help you.” Wiping her eyes, she looked up at the masked face of the specter before her.

“The Jedi are all gone. How can I become one?”

“If you pass the trial I put before you, I can grant you the rank of knight.” How will that help with the rebellion? What could becoming a knight at this point do that she couldn’t already? It would be an empty title for an empty soul. But the force had led her here, whatever this trial was… it might give her the knowledge that she sought. 

“I’m ready,” she said.

---

When she opened her eyes, she was no longer sitting in the middle of rubble. She looked around her at the lush green landscape and rolling hills. Laid out before her was a lake shimmering in the early morning light. Trees dotted the landscape and sitting just ahead of her was a huge stone castle with a pastel pink paint peeking through the climbing vines up to the dome roofs. A figure stood on the balcony that opened out over the water. She could just make them out between the arched stone columns and planters that lined the railing. 

The temple guardian had told her she was going back in time to change something. Her trial was to figure out what it was. Succeed, and she’d be brought back to her time and knighted as a Jedi. It hadn’t told her where she was going or how far back. It also hadn’t told her what would happen if she failed. She’d probably be stuck here in this time; whenever it was…

She climbed the stone wall at the far end of the balcony, trying to be as quiet as possible. But when she peeked over the railing, she almost lost her grip. Her heart pounded in her chest as she dangled from the side of the balcony. She swung around to look between the balusters at the figure silhouetted against the cloudy sunrise. He had his back to her. His loose tunic fluttered in the breeze. The thin material barely masking his well-defined musculature.

She vaulted herself over the railing landing lightly on the stone floor. She stood there staring at his back longingly; a lump in her throat. Every muscle in her body screamed at her to run to him. She wanted nothing more than to throw herself into his arms, she’d missed him so much. But this Anakin might not know she existed yet, she had to be cautious. She could just make out his padawan braid where it fell on his right shoulder. 

He started turning in her direction and she scrambled to hide but ran into the wall. “Hey!” he yelled.

Kriff! She started running down the back steps, rubbing her forehead trying to ignore the pain of where it had hit the stone. 

“Stop! Who are you?” he demanded as he chased after her. She didn’t know where she was going so she just kept running, taking random turns that seemed like the right direction trying to lose him in the maze of the castle pathways. After running for a few minutes, she risked a glance backwards but didn’t see him behind her anymore. She slowed to a walk trying to catch her breath and kept looking over her shoulder. 

Something reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her into a little alcove behind a statue along the passageway. She yelped and then fell silent as she looked up into his intense blue eyes. Her knees wobbled a little as she tried to memorize his face. He couldn’t be much younger than when she met him, so she’d only gone back in time a few years. Before the Clone Wars, most likely. He was gripping each of her arms tightly and staring into her soul. She realized at some point that he didn’t have his mechanical arm yet. He’d lost his in the Battle of Geonosis, hadn’t he? So it had to be before that.

“How did you find this place?” he asked angrily. “Who sent you?”

“Um…” she was at a loss, she didn’t know what to say. “I felt like I should come here…” she stammered. “I think I’m supposed to help you.” It was weak, she bit her lip hoping he’d buy it. 

He glanced down and saw the lightsabers dangling from her belt. “Are you a Jedi?” he asked. She nodded, not trusting herself to lie. His close proximity to her was distracting. He smelled good too. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but she was afraid to. 

“Anakin?” a female voice called. It was familiar too. 

He brought his finger to her lips and then leaned out to reply. “I’ll be right there, senator. Just a moment.” Padmé… I should have known.

“Are you alright? I thought I heard you shouting.” Senator Amidala called again.

“It was nothing,” he answered. Her shoulders slumped. Yeah… nothing… She wanted to look away, but if she moved her face, her lips would brush his finger which was probably not the smartest idea right now. Not that any of this was smart. Apparently satisfied with his response, Padmé didn’t say anything else. But neither did Anakin. She looked up to find him staring at her. She held her breath. “Who are you?” he asked again, softer this time. She peered up at him like a schoolgirl. Why was it so hard to talk to him now? Because you thought he was dead. He is dead. You’re in the past remember? She tried to ignore the arguing voices in her head. 

“Fulcrum.” She managed finally. 

“You said you were here to help. Help with what?” he asked. 

Stang… she didn’t know. She could feel something through the force. She pushed her senses out trying to read him. “You’re hurting,” she responded instead. “Why?” Now that she’d managed to focus on something other than his intoxicating presence she could feel a deep pain in his soul. Something was bothering him. There was confusion, sorrow… longing… a cavern of aching, oceans wide. She’d felt pain in him like this before, but this was fresh. Boiling just beneath the surface, demanding attention. Not like the deeply buried loss he’d carried with him as her master. 

He released her and stepped away. No, come back… “It’s nothing.” He looked uncomfortable and avoided her gaze. 

“It might be what I’m supposed to help you with,” she whispered. “Tell me.”

“It was just a dream,” he said. “Forget it.” Dreams don’t hurt you like that. She studied the profile of his face. Was it possible for her to help fix whatever had caused that chasm of pain she’d always felt in him? Could that be what she was meant to change? 

She tentatively reached out and touched him on the arm. “Tell me about your nightmare,” she said soothingly. “Let me help you.” As her master, he’d never let her in; not really anyways. She hoped this was before he’d shut everyone out. She hoped he would tell her. 

“It was about my mother,” he said finally, swallowing hard. “I can feel her, she’s in pain. I have to help her!” His mother… right… she’d died somehow. What was it she’d overheard Master Kenobi and Master Yoda say about it? She racked her brain trying to find the elusive piece of information that might help her stop it from happening. “Are you going to chastise me like the rest of them? Tell me that attachments are forbidden, and I should let her go?” He said suddenly angry, interrupting her thoughts. The temple guardian had also said attachments are forbidden. Had he been referring to her attachment to Anakin? Or had it been a hint to help her with this trial?

“No,” she said, trying to weigh her words. She had to keep reminding herself that right now, he must think she’s a Jedi master. That he’s still a padawan, expecting them to tell him what to do. She wasn’t so sure she liked that he was looking to her for what to do or rather to not do something. “Attachment might be forbidden, but if someone is in danger, it is a Jedi’s responsibility to do what they can to help them.”

He smiled suddenly. “Thank you.” He said, but then frowned again. “But my mandate is to protect the senator. That’s why we’re here. I can’t leave.”

“Between the two of us, I’m sure we can keep her safe if she comes along.” Ahsoka answered. But I’d rather she stay here…

“I’ll go tell her to get ready and we’ll meet you at the ship,” he said starting up the stairs. He paused near the top and turned back to look at her, “I’m glad you’re not like the other masters.” He commented.

Because of you… she almost replied, but instead, she just gave him a smile and he disappeared around the corner. She sighed heavily when he was out of sight. This was going to be a difficult task. Not rescuing his mother, or protecting the senator… but because seeing him like this, younger… and more carefree… still smiling occasionally… it was distracting to say the least. And she was having a really hard time not noticing her body’s response when he was close to her. You’re not here to fall in love, you idiot. A little late for that, don’t you think?

---

Ahsoka raced to the shiny, chromium plated Nubian starship sitting on the private landing pad, hoping that it would take the senator her usual amount of time to get ready and she’d have a few minutes to come up with a plan. It had taken longer than she cared to admit to stop thinking about Anakin in that loose tunic and seeing him genuinely smile. He had smiled every once in a while, as her master, but it was usually a smug one or a smirk. She couldn’t think of a single moment he’d been really happy. At least he’d been good at hiding his expression of happiness.

Once her focus was back on the task at hand, she struggled to find any memory of what had happened to his mother. She searched the database in her head and came up empty. This would be so much easier if you’d talked to me about your past, Skyguy! She kicked the back of the chair. She forced herself to take a deep breath. Before she got very far, a little astromech droid wheeled into the cockpit.

“Artoo!” She greeted the droid excitedly, forgetting for a moment that it didn’t know her yet. It beeped something about her trespassing on royal property. Oh right… She told it that Senator Amidala had sent her ahead to get the ship ready for their trip. It whistled something that she didn’t quite catch but otherwise went to work starting the engines. “Artoo, I need your help.” The droid spun its dome top so that it’s ocular lens was facing her and she knelt down. “Do you know anything about Anakin Skywalker’s mother?”

R2 whirred for a few minutes and then wheeled over to plug into the computer database for information retrieval. It projected a profile of her in the air before her. Ahsoka scanned it quickly looking for any information that would help her. She was on Tatooine… okay… she was once a slave… yeah… a man named Cliegg Lars had purchased her and then freed her. Then why would she be in danger? It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Anakin’s instinct or visions; what was she missing? Could she be in danger from something besides slavery? What was it that Anakin had told her was dangerous on Tatooine on their first real mission together? The desert was merciless… but why? She stood up quickly. Sand people. 

If the Tuskens had somehow captured her… she would not survive until they got there. She paced back and forth trying to come up with a plan. She ran to the comm and put in a call to Jabba the Hutt. It wasn’t ideal, but it might work… She didn’t have time to second guess herself though, she could hear Anakin and Padme coming closer. She ducked into the closet near the bridge, forcing herself past the heavy material hanging there so that she’d be well hidden in the depth of the tiny room. Why was she so keen to hide from Padme? Because you don’t want to see them together.

“It looks like Artoo already started the ship. Are you ready to go?” Senator Amidala’s voice drifted past where Ahsoka was hiding. 

“Not quite,” Anakin said. “I forgot something.” Ahsoka realized a little too late that he was trying to find her but she was too embarrassed to crawl out of the closet now that Padme was sitting right outside. “I couldn’t find it,” Anakin said returning. Ahsoka felt the ship lift off and shifted to find a more comfortable position to wait out the long trip.

“Ouch,” she said clunking her head on a shelf in the back of the closet and quickly covered her mouth. 

“Did you hear that?” Anakin asked.

“I didn’t hear anything.” Padme replied.

Stang! Artoo beeped something and Ahsoka heard the door to the closet open. She shimmied further back against the wall hoping the heavy dresses and robes would keep her hidden. The material against her face moved, but she didn’t hear Anakin say anything so she hoped he didn’t see her. After a few minutes of rustling, the closet door closed again. She was about to breathe a sigh of relief when she realized that he was sitting on the floor next to her. She froze, panicking.

 “Any particular reason you’re hiding in the closet?” he whispered. Her heart thudded in her chest, she willed it to be quiet. Think!

 “I was inspecting the ship, of course! The senator’s life is in danger, you can’t be too careful.” She tried her best to emphasize that what she was doing was the most obvious course of action, how could he commit such an oversight? 

“You’re right! How silly of me. The ship has been sitting here completely unguarded in the middle of nowhere. I hadn’t even considered that it could be tampered with.” He replied seriously, furrowing his brow. She wasn’t quite sure if he was making fun of her or not. She resisted the urge to punch him in the shoulder. It wasn’t very master-like. 

“If you were trying to take out a target, would you confront them directly when they’re guarded by a Jedi, or would you find another form of subterfuge?” She mimicked his tone of voice when he tried to teach her hard lessons. He was quiet for a moment. 

 “You’re right. I like the way you think, Snips.” He said.

 Her eyes widened as she stared at him in surprise, “What did you call me?”

 “I’m sorry,” he said embarrassed. “That was inappropriate. I’m not sure where that came from.” She reached for him before she could stop. He looked at her nervously awaiting a reprimand. Her hand touched the side of his face and he relaxed into it returning her stare. His eyes flicked to her lips and they leaned closer. “Master,” he breathed, before they kissed. Alarm bells were sounding in her brain. Hey… that’s you! Her brain was too fuzzy to react though. He tasted so sweet, for a moment, nothing else mattered.

 They kissed again, deeper this time. Reaching depths neither had known. Everything about him filled her heart to bursting, why was he so irresistible? You have to stop this. She ignored the voice in her head and wrapped her arms around his neck pushing him backwards. He responded hungrily, his intensity startling her. She was on top of him as his arms weaved around her back pulling her closer. The ship lurched, shoving their tangled embrace into the wall.

 "Anakin?" Padmé called from outside the closet door. Her voice brought them both crashing back to reality and they scrambled apart as quietly as they could. Holding their breaths, they waited for her footsteps to recede and then he stumbled clumsily out of the closet, standing up and adjusting his robes. 

 He glanced back at her, but she shook her head, mouthing to him that she would continue inspecting the ship. So, he shut the closet door, leaving her in darkness again. She felt around the back looking for the ventilation shaft and then squeezed her way in. 

 Deep in the bowels of the ship, she finally faced the truth; being close to him was dangerous. And she needed to get her act together. What they'd just done was wrong on every level. But it felt so right...

 Use your brain, girl! Not only is he your future master, you're not from this time. Do you really think messing up his relationship with Padmé is what you're meant to do? Well the temple guardian had said attachment is forbidden... so you get him attached to you instead? Brilliant.

Ahsoka sighed. She couldn't ignore the magnetism between them, but she had to resist it. There was a bigger picture she had been conveniently ignoring. But... No. Don't go there.

Chapter 2:

"Excuse me," Ahsoka said, poking her head into the doorway of the Lars' compound. She'd managed to survive the two-day trip here without the senator finding out she was on board. She'd found a small room in the aft part of the ship that had a bed and a refresher; probably a servant's quarters. Whenever she'd been certain Padmé was asleep or in another part of the ship, she'd sneak into the galley through the ventilation ducts and get a snack. Otherwise she stayed out of sight as much as possible. "Sorry to barge in, but I'm a little lost, could you tell me if there's a city or village in that direction?" She said pointing one of her lightsabers to her left. 

 The Lars family, including Anakin and Padmé, piled out of the doorway to look in the direction she pointed. One of them grabbed monoculars and scanned the horizon. "No city," the one-legged fellow in the motor chair said, "but maybe a Tusken camp."

 A girl not much younger than herself gasped, "look at all the smoke!" She said. 

 "From the tracks we found, that's the direction they went with your mother." The older man said, glancing at Anakin. Ahsoka felt him tense up beside her. "But it's not like the Tuskens to draw so much attention to themselves."

 "Well, I'm already headed in that direction, young Jedi. If you'd like to come along, perhaps I can help you find who you're looking for."

 Anakin gave her a grateful look and then turned to Padmé. “Stay here, senator. These are good people, you’ll be safe.”

 “Be careful,” Padmé replied hugging him, then she gave Ahsoka a critical and distrusting look. Ahsoka bowed slightly and turned towards one of the two speeder bikes parked near the main house. 

 “Do you mind if we borrow these?” She looked back to the man in the motor chair.

 “If there’s a chance you can find my wife, please take them.” He replied. He must be Cliegg Lars. She nodded her thanks and then looked back in the direction of the smoke as she waited for Anakin to join her. She had a bad feeling about what they were going to find out there.

 She’d hoped by reporting Shmi as a runaway slave that the Hutts would track her down and they could sort out the political mess later. But from the looks of the billowing black smoke rising high above the hazy horizon… the sand people’s entire compound must be on fire. If the Hutts were responsible for such destruction to capture a ‘runaway’ slave… perhaps dealing with the sand people directly would have been easier. 

 Anakin hopped onto the second speeder bike and they both took off in that direction. She was focused on their destination, but she felt his emotions wafting back at her through the force. She could sense his anger, but dwarfing that was his fear. He was afraid of what they’d find when they arrived at the ruins of the camp. Was she equipped to help him deal with his grief? Would she be strong enough? I can only hope it won’t come to that.

 After an hour of travel time they stopped on the top of the ridge peering down at the smoldering remains of a Tusken camp. At least a hundred tents had all been burned to the ground, bodies were strewn around with blaster wounds and bad burns. Her shoulders dropped. Sand people may be the enemy of desert settlers, but this was pure genocide. By trying to save his mother had she inadvertently led these people to their destruction?

 Anakin was crouching by the edge, scanning the wreckage. There was turmoil in him too. Hatred yet sorrow. A conflicting mix of knowing what you’re supposed to feel and the disconnect with what you do feel. She rested a hand on his shoulder and he looked up at her. “What do you sense?”

 “She’s not here.” He replied. Ahsoka breathed a little easier, there might still be a chance to save her. “But she was.” He said, swallowing. “I can feel her pain, like in my nightmares. They tortured her.” She felt his anger rise off him; stronger through their connection. He stood up so fast her hand slid off his shoulder. “They got what they deserved.” He growled with a raw primal utterance of emotion.

 She wanted to cry out that he couldn’t mean that, this wasn’t the Anakin she knew. But from everything she was feeling in the force… he did mean it. What could she possibly say or do to guide him? What would a Jedi do? She put her hand on his arm and turned him to face her and she stared up searchingly at his face. “Anakin,” she breathed. From the look on his face, he was daring her to challenge his feelings. “What happened here was not justice,” she started cautiously. “This was annihilation.”

He fumed for a moment but to her relief his anger was beginning to recede. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, looking away.

 “Don’t be sorry,” she said soothingly, reaching up to take his face in her hands. He looked at her again. “Emotions are a natural part of life, but what we do with them is what defines who we are. A Jedi must learn to control them, not because they are wrong, but so that we can act with clarity.”

 She brushed the tear away that slid down his cheek. “I just miss her so much. I know I’m not supposed to, but I do.”

 I know the feeling… she almost said. “I know,” she said instead.

 “It’s hard to ignore it.”

 “Never ignore your feelings, Anakin. Act on them, but do so deliberately. Focus them into intention; for peace and justice.”

 He was silent for a few moments, searching her eyes. He was lost, confused, conflicted. She held him while he searched himself too, keeping her senses cast over him so she could feel everything he was. It was painful and overwhelming, but also oddly comforting to be standing there beside him again. Even when his pain had become too much to handle before, she’d never wished to leave his side. That feeling had only become stronger here. 

 “It wasn’t an accident you found me on Naboo,” he commented.

 No, she wanted to say, but she stayed silent. He didn’t need an answer; he already knew. 

 “I’m glad you did.”

 She smiled at him. “Me too.” She said simply.

 “The force works in mysterious ways.” He said finally. You have no idea…

 “Come on,” she said after a few moments. “Let’s see if we can find your mother.” She leapt off the cliff, using the force to slow her fall and landed gracefully in the valley below. He landed softly beside her seconds later. 

 “Over here,” he called after they’d been searching for a while.

 “What did you find?” she asked joining him.

 “Tracks.” She looked around them. There were tracks in every direction both from animals and people, what was so special about these? “Gamorreans.” She was grateful she hadn’t been forced to admit her ignorance. “Hutt lackeys.” He said matching his gaze to the direction they headed.

 So, I was responsible for this… “Is it common for there to be conflict between the Hutt cartel and the sand people?” She asked. “I was under the impression only settlers had trouble with the Tuskens.”

 “It depends,” he said. “I know they’ve battled in the past because the Tuskens would encroach on Hutt territory. But for Jabba to send out his guards to slaughter them like this… It was either personal or they were looking for someone.”

 “Who could they be looking for?”

 “My best guess is a slave.” Anakin replied solemnly. “Smugglers and pirates would know better than to seek refuge with the sand people. Only a slave would be that desperate.” 

 “They’d do all of this to capture a runaway slave?” she was horrified.

 “A slave’s value far outweighs the lives of transients. It makes them rich, gives them prestige. Without slavery, the Hutts would be nothing.” His anger was rising again. She stopped asking questions. 

 “I suggest we pay this Jabba the Hutt a visit then.”

 “My thoughts exactly.” He replied clenching his fist. She wanted to say something about restraint or warn him to be careful or call him down from the edge. But she couldn’t. She simply hoped that as long as he believed he was in the presence of a Jedi master, he’d behave more diplomatically. Although, she was starting to think he wasn’t truly convinced she was one. He played along, of course, but there was doubt in his eyes when he looked at her. “So how come I’ve never seen you around the temple?” he asked as they climbed back up the ridge to where they’d left the speeder bikes.

 “Oh, well…” she scrambled to find a good enough excuse. It would be easy if she was still a youngling since he didn’t come near them, but most masters take turns teaching classes and you at least see them around, even if you’ve not met them all. “I’m rarely at the temple. I prefer to let the force dictate my direction rather than the senate.” She grinned at him.

 “Must be nice to not be ordered around all the time.” he commented.

 “It is and it isn’t,” she replied. “The force guides me, but rarely in easy directions. I never know where I’m going or what to expect. At least the council gives you briefings.” She chuckled, thinking about all the time spent being bored while one of the masters droned on about the latest mission. And how her and Anakin had often made faces at each other during them. Or lewd imitations of master Yoda or master Windu. Thinking back, it was surprising they survived that war, they hardly ever took it seriously. They did on the battlefield of course, when it was do or die. But the rest of the time it had just been a game to them. Not all of us did survive it… she reminded herself.

 “You sound like you miss it.” He said. She glanced at him hoping he couldn’t see the water building in her eyes.

 “The path I’m on can get very lonely,” she said hoarsely, trying to swallow her emotions. She had just told him to always act on his, but if she acted on hers… Well, it could really screw things up. If she hadn’t already… she thought back to their kiss in the closet on the ship. Despite years of training… she had never learned restraint. I’m sorry, Skyguy.

 “You know...” he said before climbing on his speeder and starting the engine. “If you ever do come back to the temple, well, my door is always open. I’d serve with you anytime. Or we could just talk.”

 She smiled and looked down, thankful that he’d turned his back to mount the bike so he hadn’t seen the sorrow that had surely etched her face. It was amazing the difference a few months could make. It made her heart ache to know that something awful had to have happened in the short amount of time before she’d become his padawan. She was suddenly determined to do anything she could to stop what had caused him so much pain. 

 ---

 In the distance, she could just make out the domed towers of Jabba’s palace. It had taken several hours to get this far; they sped towards it in silence. With all the dust, wind and noise, it would have been pointless to try to talk anyways. She didn’t mind the quiet, his presence was enough. She could feel his anticipation mounting the closer they got to their destination. She wondered how they were going to talk their way through this. If Jabba had ordered the destruction of an entire population of drifters to capture a slave, it wasn’t likely he’d just hand her over to them. Assuming she was still alive in the first place.

 They dismounted outside and were greeted by several bounty hunters and a protocol droid. "We request an audience with the magnificent Jabba." Ahsoka said, bowing politely. While bent over she glanced at Anakin who was glaring at them with no intention of bowing. She subtly kicked him. Finally, he gave in and gave a curt nod, she figured that was the best she'd get. 

 "Right this way," the protocol droid responded not seeming to notice Anakin's hostile attitude. They followed it inside. Jabba lounged on a raised dais in the center of the room. All manner of bounty hunters or other creatures seeking his favor were crowded around the room drinking and watching skinny Twi'lik dancers prance about the room. A band was playing upbeat music in the corner and Jabba was nodding to the rhythm with his eyes closed. 

 The droid tottered over to the Hutt and whispered something to it. His eyes popped open as he glared down at them. He spoke in his own language with the droid translating. Though if she wasn't mistaken, she was certain Anakin understood him because she could feel his responses to things Jabba said before the translation was given. 

 "The mighty Jabba wishes to know why you've interrupted his party."

 "We are humbly sorry, your worship," Ahsoka replied ignoring the gagging noise that Anakin was making beside her. "We are looking for an escaped slave, and since you are the ruler of this fine planet, we came to request your assistance." Apparently she managed to grovel just enough for Jabba to be cooperative.

 "His high exalted will help you find your missing property." She had to reach out and grab Anakin's arm so he didn't respond violently to the Hutt's comments. 

 "We are most gracious, mighty Jabba. We are looking for a slave named Shmi Skywalker." She replied. 

 "The glorious Jabba suggests that you look in the dungeon. His guards recently captured a runaway hiding amongst the Tuskens. If your slave is among them, he will release it for a finders fee of 200,000 credits."

 "What?" Anakin said, reaching for his weapon only to have ten different blasters pointed at them. 

 "Pardon my young friend here, he's still learning your customs. We will gladly pay your fee if she is among your prisoners." Jabba ordered several guards to escort them to the cells, and they bowed to him, and followed them out of the room.

 "Why are you negotiating with that slug?" Anakin demanded the moment they were out of the room. "I don't have any money to give him, it's outrageous!"

 "Calm yourself," she replied. "Sometimes you have to play their games." 

 "Now you sound like my master." He scowled. 

 "And who is your master?" She asked conversationally. As if she didn't know.

 "Obi wan." He said.

 "Ah yes, master Kenobi. The negotiator." She chuckled. "There is credence in playing their little mind games, but it's not always the best way to solve a problem. Right now, we need to establish if she's even here. Which we wouldn't be able to do if we'd made Jabba mad up there." She said pointing above them. 

 He hung his head. "You're right, I'm sorry." She stopped. She hated hearing him apologize for everything. He looked at her curiously.

 "Your emotions rule you, young Skywalker. Remember what I said about focusing them into intention and clarity?"

 "Yes," he said shuffling his feet. 

 “Take a deep breath," she said waiting for him to do so. "Feel the force surround you. Good, now think about your goal. With it in sight, let the force flood around it showing you the path ahead." She watched him for a moment, his face screwed up in concentration and then his shoulders relaxed and he opened his eyes looking at her more calmly. "Now lead the way."

 She followed him into the depths of the dungeon. "I wish we could save them all." He said as they walked past cell after cell of desolate, hopeless people. 

 "Me too," she replied sadly. "But we're ill equipped at the moment to start a war with the Hutts." She saw his shoulders slump and she wanted to hug him. She remembered his pain on Kiros when he found out slavers had kidnapped its entire population. She'd promised him that she would help him wipe out slavery throughout the galaxy when the war was over, but they'd never been given that chance. At least during that mission, they'd had the help of the Jedi council and the Republic senate. Right now though, it was just the two of them, trying to save someone he was attached to. Not only would the council disapprove, if they had to resort to violence, it could cause a war between the Jedi and the Hutts. With the other war coming soon... that was the last thing they needed. 

 "Mom!" Anakin said running to a cell at the end of the second row. 

 "Ani?" The women replied coughing. She was in terrible shape. "Is it really you? My little Ani?"

 "I'm here, ma!" He replied reaching through the bars to hold her. Ahsoka felt a lump form in her throat as she watched Anakin turn into a little child in his mother's arms. "We're going to get you out of here. Hang on!" 

 "Stay here, I'll go negotiate her release." Ahsoka turned but then was called back by his mother. Shmi reached through the bars and gripped her hand tightly. Ahsoka looked at her scarred and bloody face. Her heart aching as she felt her immense pain. His mother stared up at her with pleading eyes and she understood intuitively that she was begging Ahsoka to take care of her son. She swallowed hard and nodded her promise. For just one moment, she was certain that Shmi knew the truth of who she was. She didn't know how, but... she was sure she did. Ahsoka squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I'll be right back." 

 She left them both on their knees on the dirt covered stone trying to hold each other through the thick, rusty metal bars. 

 She returned ten minutes later to find them still in the same position. She pointed the guard with the key to her cell door. He unlocked it for them and Anakin caught his mother in his arms as she tried to stand up. 

“Let’s get out of here before Jabba ups the price again.” Ahsoka mumbled, putting her arm around Shmi’s other side to help her up the stairs.

 “He did what?” Anakin asked furiously.

“Shh…” Ahsoka responded instead. “I took care of it.” Was all she’d say. She didn’t want to tell him it had cost her all but thirty credits of the money she’d been desperately trying to hold onto since the end of the Clone Wars. She didn’t want to give him anymore reasons to get angry or feel guilty. She’d paid the ransom without hesitation, even though she had a hunch Shmi wouldn’t recover from her ordeal. But at least if they could get her out of this awful, smelly place, they’d have a chance to make up for some lost time. She hoped it would be enough.

 ---

 Ahsoka left the sad scene unfolding inside the medical facility in Mos Eisley. Between the torture and the infections growing in her wounds, there wasn't a lot the doctors could do for Anakin's mother. They got her cleaned up and comfortable, but the damage had already been done. They'd called the Lars family to tell them they found her so they'd come to meet them in town right away. Padmé had stood close to Anakin's side with her arm around his back to comfort him. They all stood around Shmi's bed in their vigil of respect.

 She didn't feel as though she belonged in there, so she'd slipped outside the first chance she could. She sat on a bench in the late afternoon heat, watching the diverse crowd of aliens, humans and droids bustle about as merchants shouted trying to hock their goods, but were often drowned out by rumbling ships arriving and departing from the spaceport not far away. Anakin joined her after a while and they sat in silence watching the twin suns set behind the rounded stone tops of the sand colored buildings.

 She could feel the mountain of grief weighing him down and wished that she could have done more to help him. She'd been so sure that saving his mother had been her trial but if it had been, she'd failed miserably. What would happen now? "I'm sorry about your mother," she said softly. He didn't respond at first so she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Tears were falling down his cheeks, but she didn't reach out to wipe them away this time.

 "Why do people we love have to die?" He asked hoarsely. She wasn't sure how to answer him at first. She thought about all the people she'd lost through the years. Each one more painful than the last. She'd never let herself ask why, it was just the way it was. Some people live, some people die. There never seemed to be a rhyme or reason to who was chosen for either. Losing him had been the hardest for her. She'd spent many sleepless nights asking the force why she'd survived when he hadn't. She'd never been given an acceptable explanation. Maybe there wasn't one.

 "I don't know," she said at last. "I guess it's the cost of living. I like to think though, that once they become part of the force, they're not really gone. If anything, they're closer than ever. Something we can reach to when we're feeling alone. Something that gives us strength when we're scared or lost. They become part of everything we do and in their memory, we keep fighting for what's good. And use their energy only for peace and light. To honor them." As her words fell in the space between them, he reached out and took her hand. Holding it as if that simple act could cure anything. She poured all the love that she contained into her hand so that he would feel it.

 “I feel like I failed her.” He said after a long time.

 “You didn’t.” she replied simply. I’m the one that failed…

 “How can you be so sure? I didn’t save her! I wasn’t strong enough!”

 “Strength had nothing to do with it, Anakin. And you did save her. Maybe not her life, but you saved her soul. She had a chance to say goodbye to someone she thought she lost ages ago. You made her life complete. You brought her peace. Don’t ignore that.”

 “You said the force often guides you in difficult directions.” She nodded at his comment. “I’m glad it led you here.” She smiled at him, but before she could respond, Padme came out of the medical facility and they let go of each other’s hand.

 “I’m so sorry, Anakin.” The senator said hugging him. Anakin looked over Padme’s shoulder at Ahsoka a little sheepishly. She just gestured to carry on and went back to watching the sunset. Though she couldn’t help but watch them out of the corner of her eye. After everything she’d shared with him, it hurt to see their intimacy. She had no reason to be jealous really, there was no hope for them in this time; or her own, for that matter. She looked down at her drab but practical attire. The high neck tunic, long pants, gloves, boots and plain belt. Next to Senator Amidala’s sky-blue two-piece attire, long flowing curly brown hair and elaborate silver headpiece, why would he find her attractive anyways? She dressed to fight, the senator… well she dressed to impress.

 Her attention shifted to the little blue and white astromech droid that rolled up to where they were gathered, followed by a silver protocol droid that looked like he’d never been finished.

 “Artoo? What are you doing here?” Padme asked as though annoyed to see the droid. If only she knew how special he was. R2D2 beeped a series of different noises.

 “He says he’s carrying a message from an Obi wan Kenobi. Do you know anyone by that name? I tried to get him to wait on the ship until you returned, my lady, but he was quite insistent it was important to tell you immediately.” The protocol droid chattered.

 They hailed a rickshaw to take them to the shuttleport; after climbing in the two-seater with the senator, Anakin called back to Ahsoka to see if she was coming. Ahsoka shrugged but then said she’d meet them there. She politely said goodbye to the Lars family, offering them her condolences and then ran down the street; raced past the rickshaw, climbed up a building, looked back in their direction and winked at him, then she flipped over the far wall smiling to herself. Even if she knew she couldn’t come between him and Padme, she couldn’t stop herself from showing off just a little. His expression had been priceless. As interested as he was in Senator Amidala, he was still a man of action and all this diplomacy and chivalry was boring him to death.

[justtextmeoppa]

Seven big and annoying brothers - Chapter 1

Sooooo, a lot of people (God blesses you guys, really) asked for a second part or making a mini serie after this scenario , so I started to write and I think it’ll be a mini serie! I hope you guys will enjoy it because I really love writing this kind of stuff. Kisses, M. ♥ P.S. “Jongin” is Kim Jongin from Exo but only for what concerns his physical features.

Words count: 2,9k+

Pairing: Bts x Reader 

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Romance in the future (not with BTS)

Gif isn’t mine, credits to the owner! ♥

Seokjin had told the truth.  

High school was literally your new personal hell. The fact that you were a year younger than your classmates didn't help, some looked at you as if you were a freak, others instead respected the limits; smiling you with kindness.  

The truth was, you missed your old life. Your old school, your classmates. You were even missing the moments spent with Heechul, your best friend while stealing your lunch that your mother prepared with love every single morning. Yet it was for your parents that you were bearing that torture. You liked to study, but you wanted to do everything at the right times.  

So to avoid getting sucked by the weight that was formed in your chest every single morning in front of the school gates, you were enrolled in any type of school club. Chess, theatre, swimming, photography; All while keeping your mind and your body busy to the point that you don't wander with thoughts.  

The first three had been a total disaster.  

Chess was boring; as much as you were a clever little girl you were bored to death every time your gaze was resting on the black and white pieces placed diligently on the chess board.  

You and theatre couldn't get along; this bad habit of laughing at cheesy lines had bought one of your sunbae to chase you out of the classroom.  

Swimming; In short, you forgot that you were struggling to stay afloat for five seconds so it was practically impossible to think of being in the water hours and hours to practice.  

The only thing; In spite of your initial expectations, that had aroused a mad love had been photography. Yoongi's blame; you had to admit the day you marked your name to ask to be admitted to the club. You still remember how during a day of peace and quiet you and one of the older members of the group had spent the afternoon to visit the city (he's perfectly incognito) to find special places to photograph.  

Perhaps it had been the light in his gaze when he squeezed the camera and focused on his lens. It was the same one you saw every time when he was composing music or was on stage. The light that born when you love what you're doing.  

And oddly enough, you were also as good as a photographer. The club president, a Sunbae of your last year, had complimented you after the first project saying that there was talent in you. Crude, to work on, but it was there.  

It was in the classroom reserved for the club that the episode changed everything you thought you knew.  

You were almost 15 years old, you were in the middle of adolescence but fortunately, you were never preyed by the hormonal changes characteristic of those years.  

Not until that day.  

It was called Park Jongin and had the sweetest smile you had ever seen; Even sweeter and more perfect than that of Jimin.  

He was a year older than you and grasp your hand by presenting himself; assuring you that he would take care of you because you were a freshman. The way he caressed your name when he pronounced it was something that provoked a strange sensation in your stomach; strange as much as unknown.  

The thought of the moment was in his eyes; surrounded by long eyelashes, wider than normal and with a light hazelnut to color the irises.  

A little plop on the chair next to yours made it present that the owner of those eyes was next to you and automatically your body will stiffen, the air will be blocked in your lungs and your hands began to tremble so much that the film between them mess up a little.  

"Y/N, do you want to go get an ice cream? We were only the two of us; I'm bored! "  

' What? WHY ME? OH, MY GOD... What should I do? Why are you asking me? I have to lie, I can't be alone with him. ' Your brain thought frantically, raising your gaze and smiling him embarrassed.  

"Hey, are you okay?" Why are you red in your face? Do you have a fever?? "  

You wide open your eyes when he stroked your forehead with the back of his hand, mumbling something subheading and provoking violent electric discharges along your arms. Your hands would have wanted so much to touch his forearm; right in front of your eyes. It was tense, the muscles were tense because of the position and the veins in relief throbbed rhythmically. It was a perfect forearm for a perfect guy.  

"N-No.. Just that.. I'm hot, that's all. "  

"Then let's go get the ice cream, so you'll refresh!"  

"N-No.. I can't, I'm sorry sunbae, " You whispered, biting the tip of your tongue, and with frenzy, you picked up your things and ran out of the classroom under the upset look of Jongin.  

Your breath came out in small puffs of steam, the temperature low despite the fall had started a few days. Your footsteps were fast; quickly you walked out of the school area and in an automatic, you headed to the only place where you could have found some answers.  

You were even willing to undergo to Seokjin's reproaches, Hoseok's panic and a terrifying gaze of Yoongi in learning that you, for the first time in 15 years, were finally experiencing what marked the adolescence of anyone.  

Your first crush.  

The dorm appeared quiet from the outside but you remembered that they didn't have schedules scheduled for that day, so you rang the doorbell in three sequences so let them understand that it was you.  

Immediately the door opened revealing Jimin's slightly irregular smile, who pulling you for the wrist let you in. The warmth of the apartment spread to your limbs, caressing the muscles slightly tense because of the cold that had struck you up to that moment.  

Jimin took off your scarf; he took your bag and walked away heading to the living room while you were pulling out your shoes and slipping your slippers. Yes, they kept a pair of extra slippers for the moments you decided to hide in the dorm instead of your home.  

"Guys, there's Y/N," announced the now blonde-haired boy as you appeared in the salon and everyone greeted you enthusiastically. You immediately took place next to Taehyung, resting your head against his shoulder and letting yourself escape a grunt of disappointment that all seven seemed to grasp to perfection.  

"What's going on?" Seokjin asked, just squinting his eyes to better observe your face.  

You knew you were tired; physically your dark circles and the pulled skin were proof of it, but you would have preferred that he wouldn't notice it because you knew he would be the most concerned of all.  

"Nothing, school.. That's all, " you reassure him, in spite of your voice trembled. Taehyung's arm lifted and quickly shrugged your shoulders, letting your face glide more towards his chest. With his fingertips, he began to caress the soft fabric of your shirt against your shoulder and that little gesture began to erase the edginess that you had accumulated in the last hours; mainly because of Jongin.  

"Namjoon Hyung, why do you not help her? In short, you're the smartest among us! "  

Jimin proposed while Namjoon nodded, smiling you with more sweetness than usual. They were all too strange; No joke, no gaps, nothing. Like they're hiding something.  

"Yoongi, what are you guys hiding?"  

All seven froze instantly and you knew you asked the right person. Yoongi hated lying and had never seen the reason to do so; So he just sighed and began to explain to you that soon they would be leaving for the final stages of their "Wings Tour" and didn't know how long they could spend with you in those days.  

It was no surprise; you knew about their schedules, you even remarked it with Taehyung the night he called you. But being put before the concrete fact caused you to be sad, but you hid behind a smile that didn't reach your eyes.  

"And then you make all the sweets and gorgeous because you're leaving? C'mon! No one dies, then there are phone calls. You can make the protective brothers even from afar. "  

Taehyung squeezed the grip on your shoulders with more force, while the others murmured something and started-finally-to behave as usual. Some beat flew into the air, Seokjin scolded you because he knew that starting high school before the time was wrong, Namjoon offered to help you with your homework for those few days that remained before their departure.  

The thought of Jongin was put in a corner of your mind, ignorable even if that feeling of warmth that emerged every time his name or face resonated in your mind kept pinching in your chest.  

The rest of the afternoon passed too fast and by now it was ten o'clock in the evening when, reluctantly, you got up from your little and warm space on the couch announcing it was late.  

Hoseok stood up with you and nothing earned your attempts to persuade him. He wanted to walk you at home because he didn't like the thought of you on the streets, alone when it was dark.  

You greeted everyone with a smile and a wave of your hand, putting your shoes on and the jacket and then go out together with the rapper who was covered with a hat and a face mask to camouflage his identity. That's why you tried to stop him because you didn't want someone to recognize him and start running to escape the catastrophic event.  

For the first few minutes you walked quietly next to each other; you reassured by his presence more than you wanted to admit.  

"Hoseok oppa?"  

He directed his gaze to you, continuing to walk but you could notice from behind the mask that his lips were stretched in one of his smiles; the ones that every time warmth your heart when it was too heavy.  

"How.. How did you figure out when someone liked you? I mean, you got some crush when you were my age, right..? And, of course, everyone had a crush on you, I mean look at you. "  

Hoseok, despite the soft light that only the street lamps threw on you, noticed an escalation of rose and then red on your cheeks. He had a sister but he had never dealt with that kind of speech with her because he was too embarrassed to do so.  

He was now 23 years old; he was discreetly more mature than his adolescence self and he could -at least hoped - to face that speech with you. Despite in his eyes you were still too young for that.  

"Let's say that their attitudes were quite eloquent."  

"Like??" You inquired anxiously, slipping your hands into the pockets of your jacket and you unwittingly moved closer to his body looking for warmth. He chuckled in seeing how your cheeks became increasingly red with the beating of the seconds and he knew not by the pungent air of the night, so he drew you to himself and towered upon you because, in fact, he was higher than you, surrounding your shoulders in the same way as Taehyung a few hours earlier.  

"Well; They always wanted my company.. There was one person, in particular, it was really very sweet, we danced often together because that person also had a passion for dancing. I remember that when I once fell, cause to myself a sprained ankle, she ran to me and was really scared.. Scared that I had really hurt myself. And fear is normal when you are friends; of course, but.. In her eyes, I don't know, there was something more. "  

You nodded by listening to his words, trying to think if Jongin was always looking for your company or not. You noticed that he was kind to everyone; he helped those who asked and sometimes even those who were too stubborn to ask for help. Yet that request to eat an ice cream together, now examined with more calm, it seemed strange to you. He had never surpassed the boundaries of "sunbae-hoobae", he had never spoken you out of the context of photography.  

"And then she confessed to me and we had dated for a while until I became a trainee."  

The rest of his speech hadn't been transposed by your ears, but the sense of nostalgia you perceived in his voice forced you to lift your gaze towards him.  

Who knows how many things all seven had made slip through their fingers while pursuing their dreams.  

"Why do you ask me?"  

"ERHM?? NO, NOTHING.. JUST CURIOSITY! "  

From underneath his mask, he bit his lower lip to not laugh because of your expression and by the way your eyes express pure horror. Hoseok had intuited that there must be a boy behind your strange interest, but this awareness also brought something else. Jealousy. Not that kind that people feel in a romantic relationship, but that kind that usually a big brother feels in seeing his own little and helpless little sister take the first steps in the dark world of the crush and perhaps -later- of love in its most intense form.  

"We're here, Little panda. Try to sleep, mh? "  

"Hoseok oppa, why are you so quiet tonight??"  

You had noticed it before, but Hoseok had been more taciturn than usual. Together with Taehyung were the mood makers of the dorm, but that night there was something turned off in him. And you also perceived it from the way he had quietly told that episode of the past.  

"You must remember that not because I always act as if I were happy; I really am. I'm a human being too, " he whispered, lowering the mask and resting his lips against your forehead; "Now go inside, it's cold and you must make a good night's sleep."  

You nodded, quickly hugging his waist for a few moments and then moving away and approaching the door of your house.  

He waved his hand and you felt the need to express your thoughts aloud.  

"Oppa?"  

"Mh?"  

"I know I'm young but.. When you're sad, I can be your little bubble of joy if you want, " the sincerity of your words seemed to strike him because you noticed that his smile under the mask seemed to widen to sizes that you had never seen. He covered those few steps and hugged you, making you shield from the cold temperature that the night was carrying.  

"If that boy makes you suffer, just tell me, okay?"  

Your eyes were wide open and you started to gasping looking for air, forcefully pushing your hands against his chest and hearing him giggling as his usual do.  

"OPPA!"  

"Sh, you may be my little bubble of joy, but I still remain your Oppa. And your Oppa has to protect you from everything, " he said by winking and loosening the hug, leaving you completely astonished as he began to run in the direction of which you had just arrived.  

How did he understand that your strange attempts to understand how to recognize signs in people who have a crush was a mystery; so signing you entered the house to be greeted by the scream of your mother who said that a classmate of yours had passed in the afternoon to leave you a few things that you had left in school.  

You thank her, after explaining where you were all the time, going to your room.  

The fatigue began to guide your movements, which became slower until you noticed on the desk one of your books with a small green it post stuck on.  

Your curiosity had the best of you, despite the desire for a shower and your hot blankets were huge, so you approached the desk and took the little sticker in your hands.  

' I had to ask for your address to the administrative office, I hope you don't mind. I hope someday you will accept to eat an ice cream together. -J. '  

Your heart began to run so that you felt him press convulsively against your rib cage. The idea that Jongin came into your house, in your room just to be able to give you a book, make you melt slowly. Your cheeks reignited, the heat spread with speed and you cupped both hands on them trying to contain the excess of giggles that began to grow in your chest.  

You immediately took your phone from the bag and made a photo to the sticker, forwarding then to the one person who -you hoped was still the only one - was aware of your little secret.  

After not even ten seconds came to his answer, while with shaking hands you pressed the screen to open the message.  

' I can say, despite my little experience, that this guy most likely or is kind to the point of getting on the road to bring you the book Or.. Your crush is reciprocated. Kekeke'  

Hoseok and his final laugh had the best on your nerves and throwing yourself on the bed you started rolling into the mattress, struck by a strange madness that you had never experienced.  

"Okay.. Maybe I should ask Seokjin Oppa tomorrow, I'm sure he'll definitely have more advice than Hoseok. I get it. "  

And with that conviction, you ignored the shower and fell asleep, fully clothed and with the Jongin's sticker still secure in your left hand.

[sing-across-the-universe-blog]

5 Harsh Truths That Will Make You Better At The LSAT 2018 complete review!

A good deal of folks giving prep guidance, especially individuals selling it, is a modest over-concerned with creating LSAT prep pupils feel great about what they're doing to prepare to take the exam. We here in LSI are more worried that you find the best score you can.

This usually means doing exactly what you ought to do, even in case you may break down into tears and throw away your LSAT prep books throughout the room several times throughout your LSAT prep.

In this informative article, we take off our gloves and strike you with five unpleasant truths about what it is you're doing wrong to search for the LSAT.

I would estimate that over 80 percent of the people I have talked to over the years were not doing enough homework to max out their score on the LSAT.

Taking the LSAT is an ability. Unless you're already obtaining a 180 on each and every clinic test, you may benefit hugely from extreme exercise.

I've heard people say things like, "The LSAT is just 3 hours, so I did not see the point in analyzing no more than that any day" or, "Your mind functions better when you just prep for one hour so that I just study an hour every day.

Proper extreme prep is something nearer to 3 hours and on three days of this week and five hours and at least 2 times of this week. Watch our research programs for complete recommendations.

Remember that this does not mean that you ought to examine intensely each minute of those hours you dedicate to prep in a specific day. Take lots of small breaks throughout or area out the prep substantially over the course of daily. If prep feels just like you're torturing yourself all of the time, you're doing this wrong.

Nevertheless, it is going to require mental attention and dedication to create the necessary effort -- LSAT prep is not simple. In my time celebrating LSAT prep pupils, those that were very serious and extreme about it outperformed the slackers about the true evaluation and made way larger improvements on the way.

When you do LSAT prep you're absolutely attempting to boost new connections from the mind. Can it like everybody else who's intent on becoming better in a skill. Chess masters train profoundly. Fantastic LSAT takers need to train intensely too.

To this end, be sure to examine the daily LSAT programs we have set up. They will not be simple, but that is a fantastic thing. If you are not up to the sort of self-motivated work entailed in LSAT training (and more so in law school), it is ideal to understand today.

After a strict schedule is a rather modest investment for possibly massive returns. 4 or 3 factors either way about the LSAT may mean the difference between a sizable scholarship in your dream college or merely getting in. It may be quite a while until you get this much money with this small job, so take the chance and return to business.

If you're a newcomer to the LSAT training planet, you can be excused for not understanding this, but a few LSAT prep businesses have a far better reputation than others.

They are only throwing a lot of marketing dollars around and trading in their reputation for assisting high school students prep to the ACT/SAT to earn a fast buck. Kaplan is not as poor as the rest of these, but they're still second-rate. This just is not their market.

If you're thinking about going with these firms, do not do it. Nobody is paying me stating this. Look around the net and you will notice that additional disinterested experts agree with me.

As soon as I began my LSAT prep I went out and purchased everything that has been at my regional bookstore. Only later, when I was not seeing the improvements I was expecting to create, did I start to do some deep study. When my copy came in the mail and I snapped it open, I immediately understood that it had been hand in relation to the other novels I was using.

Though I'd already discovered the Kaplan system, I made the choice to start utilizing PowerScore's techniques rather. Make the switch into better educational materials and you'll see real advantages. Even when you're halfway or longer through your LSAT research, then it is not too late to go over to some adequate prep firm. Together with logic games particularly, it's of utmost importance that you get a fantastic system.

Proceed with novels from a business that began from the LSAT globe. Obviously you also require a lot of real, official LSAT Practice Tests.

I believe a good deal of people register to an LSAT prep class and go on autopilot out there, lazily doing just a few of the missions and believing they're getting everything they want. This in Spite of the Fact That Each great LSAT prep class informs you outright THAT You've Got TO DO PLENTY OF PRACTICE ON YOUR OWN.

The best LSAT classes are made to match into self-study. They have a tendency to run two weeks and discontinue well before the LSAT to enable you to do lots of complete simulated practice tests prior to the date of this test.

Incredibly, I watched lot of homework pupils who'd finish the course then essentially do nothing before the exam. What do you do??? Your mind will completely atrophy in that previous month!!!

Clearly that is closely associated with harsh fact #1 (you are not prepping hard enough), but I wish to concentrate here on span of homework. Two months of homework is cutting it damn near, and performing two weeks likely requires an excessive amount of work for example that you run the chance of burn.

Prep. For. Two. And. A. Half. Months. Or. More. "

I really don't understand why this appears to be the magical number precisely, but it works for many people. On the other hand, if You've Got significant outside commitments such as a full-time occupation or demanding faculty course load, You May Want to invest 5 weeks or maybe 6 weeks researching for the LSAT

As LSAC themselves notice, performance on the examination correlates strongly with duration of homework, and thus don't put off LSAT prep till there is insufficient time.

I had been guilty of the a number of the time throughout my LSAT prep, but do not make it a practice. If you are doing simulated evaluations with just 4 segments and taking small breaks between segments for up and stretch and get water, then you are not actually doing the evaluation the way it'll be on evaluation day.

At least half of the time you just do complete simulated LSAT preptests, ensure that you do it just how it'll be on evaluation day: include a fifth segment in an older evaluation to simulate an experimental department. Then have a rest. Then do two timed segments with no break. Stop. You simply did a simulated properly.

If you do not do so on a regular basis, do not expect to strike your clinic evaluation average on test day. You will not have built up the suitable stamina to consider at full rate for the whole five segments. Nevertheless, it is perfectly fine to do only 4 segments with breaks between.

My concept of test prep is that you must get great at matters under perfect conditions prior to making it tougher on your own.

I saved possibly the harshest fact for final...

I am sorry if that makes you shout, but you simply are not likely to strike your best score on the LSAT if you're knocking your mind around by blacking out each Friday night. I really don't know all the science, but most of signs indicate that drinking isn't simply bad for the learning mind. If you're likely to run at full rate, you need to cut binge drinking at least 2 weeks prior to the LSAT.

I am aware this is particularly painful because most people are in your senior year of school and are attempting to have fun with friends. Honestly this is one reason why I recommend taking off a year rather than going directly through to law college. If you are a social butterfly and you also wish to enjoy your senior year of school to it's fullest, you might wish to seriously think about studying for the exam afterwards, once you will not be missing out just as much.

Nevertheless, it is fine to go outside and have a few beverages from time to time. What I am really recommending is that you simply cut the heavy drinking. We all completely abstained from drinking through LSAT prep and we're convinced that we've been more intelligent in our own lives compared to when we walked to the LSAT on evaluation day.

Do not worry. The entire world will still be waiting for you once you return in the LSAT. I had a massive martini the moment I left the testing centre, and it had been the most gratifying drink I have ever had.

We are Here to Help

For all those shooting to perform the very best potential on the LSAT, we welcome you to use us. We're in the process of encouraging a few of highly-motivated pupils aiming for the best, therefore join now if you're interested. When you're in, you're in for life, together with access to countless courses and weekly small group tutoring/coaching together with Josh and myself.

Now that I have played LSAT poor cop for some time, allow me to point you toward a few more soothing guidance: how to relax and manage stress ahead of the LSAT. While we are not your therapist, then you can find it reassuring that we're here in order to answer your LSAT and law school related issues. Great luck!

[nathanielpoint]

A Dot Filled Life. By. Nathaniel Point

"Every story in a man's life is like a dot in an impressionist painting" - Ted Mosby("How I met your Mother").       

 It's interesting to think our lives as insignificant dots,  because dots don’t have any discerning features. Small, alone and essentially not relatable, they simply could disappear in the background of other dots. Although a dot simply could disappear, it's only a dot to something that's much grander than itself. To the universe I am a dot,  but to the atom I am the universe. Neither could exist without the other. The universe would not be defined without I to fill it, and the atom would have nowhere to exist without I there to fill.  Like the atom to I, and myself to the universe, each moment is like a dot. A dot full of one moment, insignificant by itself and only a dot compared to life, but still full of its own unique and amazing properties that are defined as its own whole. A whole filled to the brim with bountiful rich colors, and lined with a shining bright gold border. A border not used to accentuate the innate beauty of the "Dot", rather used as an instrument to show how dull the border is compared to the whole. Full of light and dark, this mixture of colors is best described as the night ending and the day beginning. Where the light and warmth of the sun, mix with the cold, hallow darkness of the sky. Draping itself over the mountains, but not casting into the valley.  Like foreshadowing of what's to come, this mosaic of a dark somber blue, filled the upstairs suite of Ms.Frizz's home. Where a young native man, with dark brown eyes, hair to match and light mocha skin. This young man's name was Jeremy. Jeremy laid against a young lady with pale skin, blazing red hair and gorgeous hazel eyes. Although called by many names, we shall stick with one, Red. The Native clenched Red feverish body as close as he could, feeling every inch of her smooth white skin against his. As clothing gets in the way of two conjoining bodies, as does the skin get in the way of two conjoining souls.  Although clothed at this time,  it was nothing for this young man who wanted to feel her soul one last time. Gazing upon the tiresome clock, he began to think.  "Five a.m, two hours till I have to be at home, three and a half  hours before I'm on my plane, and six hours till I'm in Toronto.  That gives me fifty-five minutes till I leave. My arm is constantly aching, your body is overheating mine and your frizzy red hair is constantly in my face.  I don't want go". Thinking about it now, I can't believe it's been four years  since I thought about leaving . Four very long years, yet so short. Many people have told me "when you're enjoying your time, it passes by too quickly.  When you're not enjoying  your time it passes by incredibly slow". No one ever took the time to tell me what happens when your ambivalent about the moment.   When the moment in itself is the best thing you have ever had, but the ending of it makes it the most excruciating moment of your life. The knowledge of how nothing ever lasts, kills the last amazing moment. As the narrator I feel responsible enough to inform you, when you're in a situation like I was, where each moment last infinitum , and its excruciating to feel every second leave you by. Just sit back, relax and enjoy it.   While every second left the "dot", the room filled with an intoxicating heat,  summer air had taken its toll this season and tonight was no exception. Gasping for air, the Native started sweating in this gratuitous amount of heat. Holding onto the human heater,  he clutched her tightly. No amount of anything, could make him let go, not in this moment. While clutching his love, he scanned the room. Searching for every other dot that painted the summer.  One such dot came to mind and he began to ponder.  "Fifty minutes till I have to leave". He began to smile his notorious grin. A grin that was only ever used when he couldn't talk about something so decadently good. So instead of talking about it, he smiled.  "It was just a month ago, we had to move a couch bed from your friends place to here, because you didn't have a proper bed(not that a couch bed is a proper bed anyways). The day was hot as ever, and the couch weighed a ton. But you needed it, and you needed my help".  Maybe you didn't need my specific help, but it felt good to think that you did.  "We went at it, pivoting the couch through your friends obscure doors, having to move around the toddlers toys, it was a chore and a half just to get the right angle. Finally breaking  through the door, the two start their journey towards the house. A quest that requires stamina and strength, which neither have. Constantly changing their stances and taking breaks, it will be a surprise to see if they get there. I know we did it".  Words suddenly resonated through the native that really took him back into the moment.    "shut up native, you virus"   red exhaustively spoke,                                                                                                                  "I don't need your sass". Native laughingly but just as exhausted uttered,   "LIES, you love it, besides you were the one to make my kind of joke".  "Hence why you're a virus, you infect others into your stupid humor",  Red snickered.  Native retorted,   " SUUUUUUUUUUUUURE BLAME the native, first you take my land, then you make me carry this HEAVY...ASSS...couch. What more do you want from me".  "Well sir Jeremy, I'm pretty sure I still have your heart",  Red smirked.    "Oh Ms. Frizz",   Native smiled.  The name "Ms. Frizz" reminded the Native or "Jeremy" of the movie "Secret of Nimh". Where they spent one relaxed after noon simply watching Netflix.  It reminded him of such events because the name "Ms. Frizz" and "Jeremy" refer to two of the characters in the movie. Frisbee the mouse and Jeremy the crow.  Jeremy being the clumsy oaf always star struck by love, and Mrs.Frisbee being calm and astute with her situations, solemnly working out her issues.  I suppose we used that as a backdrop for our friendship. For a bird and a mouse could only be friends.  The two finally carved their way through "Ms. Frizz's" apartment, they got the couch into the bedroom. Panting heavily, and smiling through a hard day's work. Red had to leave for some family business. In the midst of leaving she spoke   " So were going to hang tonight?".   Jeremy skeptically excited about the question,  answered   "of course?!".  Now you can ponder why "Jeremy the bird" was so skeptical and excited about the question. Maybe it was because they hung out every night, and never once did she ask for reassurance. He asked himself   "Why did she need to be reassured this one night"?  The answer he knew, but didn't want to accept it , till it was done. You the reader may ponder what you will, I'll say one thing "Jeremy the bird" was no longer "Jeremy the bird". So, the native smiled his delinquent grin and pondered.  "The ending of that day was only amazing, because of everything that led up to it. For no event....is.....no......event.......hmmmmmm. I'll get it later" . For no event is meaningful without the context behind it. I.E the joining of two people means nothing, when there's nothing backing it up. It wasn't my first time, but it was with her. There is so many important events in one's life, and they normally start with the phrase "my first time". Red was not my first time for anything, but she might as well have been. No kiss, no moment, no anything felt as good as it did with her. It became new, it became exciting, it became the first. I understand why we wait for the one we love before we experience some things. That definition defines how I see so many things now and why I simply wait.  "Forty-eight minutes, we had a great summer. I helped you get over your ex, which I'm glad I could repay that debt.  We explored caves, went camping, drank(a...lot), played chess, and did so, so many things together. I had the best summer of my life with you.  I remember when we first went camping, we were sooooo unprepared. We had to buy an axe cause we forgot it,  then as we were unloading the car we found another axe.  We had no tarp for when it rained(which it did).  We couldn't start a fire because I brought damp wood(which I thought was dry), and we had to lay on the very hard ground.   Not to mention, we lost your keys(which I found, thankfully) and all we did was get drunk. So overall It was amazing. *(It doesn't add to the story,  but I'm smiling really hard  as I write this.)* .  I would define that as one of the happiest nights of my life. Not because I got to be near her, plenty of times I have been close with her. But because this was the first time I got to share an experience with her in over a year without her.   I remember laying in this spot, where she had been with her previous boyfriends at the camp. Down the trail up in the woods, where we laid. Thinking I never want to be that guy she talks about poorly, how disappointed she was because of me. I wanted to be nothing but good for her. It's like how all my siblings wanted pets. My sisters got hamsters, my brother got a turtle, we had a dog. My sisters accidently killed the hamsters, my brothers turtle actually ran away, and our dog got sent to a new home. Now I won't say another stupid platitude like " we don't always get what we want". Rather, I will say this "Sometimes, when we have what we want, we don’t know how to take care of it".   It’s the plain truth,  and as I secretly cried while Red slept.  As I have cried many times after. I would think about that line over and over again.   "*silent tears*, sniffles. Forty minutes, this will be the last time I hold you, I know it. I took a year to become a better person. So I wouldn't do the same stupid mistakes as before.  I am honestly trying so hard.  I'm going to get jealous, lose my shit and wreck everything I know it. Why can't I be more healthy.  All our fights this summer, all those times I stupidly made you feel bad. Could have been avoided... I have to try my best. I won't get it if I don't keep trying at least. I just hope I get it before it gets worse".   The word important comes to mind,  like how important it is to remember that previous statement. So important, I'm going to write it in big blue letters, give it extra space and highlight it.   "Sometimes, when we have what we want, we don’t know how to take care of it". - Nathaniel Point  Now don't forget it.  Thinking back on it, I was a hot mess of a person. Probably still am, who knows.....I don’t know, although I'd say my most redeeming feature is that I don't give up.   "Thirty minutes,  Okay I'm better now.  No more crying, I have to be strong for Red. She's going to meet someone, and be with him I know it, and I have to be happy for her. I just have to be. I'm going to be gone. She needs someone to be here for her. It makes sense.  If I worry about, how much trouble I've been or could possibly be, I'm just setting myself up.  I'll cross that bridge when I get to it". I should have thought "I'll burn that bridge when I get there", I was far better at ruining things then keeping them together. At least back then. (By the way mashing two idioms like that together is considered a malaphor,  informally speaking. Let's try to use it more to make it more formal).  "I remember when you messaged me to hang, my heart popped out of my chest. I was so freaking ecstatic, it was crazy.  I had looked every day for the past year to see if you messaged me, sometimes twice. You had a few times. But there was no intention of really talking to me. But for some reason this time I knew. When I got home from Toronto, I had a gut feeling and I was excited for those few days leading up to it".  The happiest moment of my life is when I saw her again, ready to talk and continue. No moment after or before would be able to top it. I remember it so vividly, we chose to meet at the Dairy Queen parking lot, in downtown wherever. She said 15 minutes, because she had to travel from a separate location.  I got dressed bouncing. Now I have tons of energy normally, but never that excited, that energized in my entire life. I was literally bouncing, running to get everything on as fast as I could. I got there in five minutes(two minute walk),  and I waited there for 10 minutes. Then I saw her, and I just missed her.  A piece of who I was, had returned.   Originally, I had planned to work on the island for my summer. I had a gut feeling about red, but I figured I shouldn't plan my summer around a gut feeling or a person. Be healthy and responsible. I was going to save up money at this really good job that my friend and his C.E.O dad  got me.  I needed the money for furniture  and our new apartment in Toronto.  It paid 16 dollars an hour, offered to pay room & board, and was going to give me a truck for the job. Then I was going to go back to school and finish my astrophysics degree.  Then a week before I go, Red appears and messages me. Now I have a decision, do I talk to her or do I move on. I knew it was a mistake, not because she's a bad person. But because I wasn't healthy around her.  I knew the instant that I talked to her. All my plans to disappear. They did,  I stayed out on the island for a month, I just wanted to be back with Red.  The school year started and I just couldn’t focus, failed and dropped out.  I don't blame her at all for this. It just reflects the unhealthy type of person I was to let this happen.    "She let me back..... after I screwed things up the first time, she let me back."  Sometimes, we can do our best to learn from our mistake, and make the same mistake again. That is a cold hard truth of life.  "After I screwed up things the first time. Just before that she told me she was falling for me and I got scared. I pushed her away.  She got closer to her last boyfriend and I got jealous and let go, Cowardice. I can't let fear get to me, 12 minutes left".   Fear is the absolute destructor of all relationships,  it hides our deepest feelings, it twists our imaginations to do stupid things, and it manifests realities. If I have learned anything,  fear will not help.  The issue is, even when you realize it's just fears, it's hard to not let it decide for you.  Getting caught up in a moment will not help.  "10 minutes left.........I remember how this all started. I remember when I met you, I was dating my ex-girlfriend and you were dating your ex-boyfriend. We were in photography, I was sitting with Stacy and our teacher says "alright well pair up" and you got paired with us. We had to make a box that took pictures. I actually just sat there and did nothing, cause I had no idea what was going on".  When Red and I met for the first time. I thought her name was slutty, therefore she was slutty. Also her voice was terribly bland. Which I thought was perfect, because I was like "Hey, I have a girlfriend, I don’t need to like her, and were probably not going to talk anyways, after this project is done we will say our goodbyes. So no worries".  Then our friend Stacy didn't show up for class, and I got paired up with her again.  Then we just started hanging out. Our teacher was really relaxed, so we essentially just got to do what we liked in class.  We would go explore by ourselves outside, for hours taking pics.  Talking, hanging out and fooling around in the friend way. Cause we had our respective others. Then we had to develop our pics together, we would go in the dark, essentially black room and we would lay there and just talk. Until someone would get mad at us for being in there too long. I fell in love with my friend.  Five minutes before Native had to leave, he woke her. The dark somber blue still over casted the room. He got off the coach, red led him downstairs to put on his shoes. He put on his shoes, kissed her on her forehead and as he left.  I held on to her hand as long as I could while she closed the door. Feeling every contour of her hand,  for some reason I knew, a gut feeling. This would be the last time we would touch for a long time, or if ever at all. If ever never came.  Not long after I screwed it up.  I became the way I was worried, I would become. Fear took over, the unhealthy person I didn't want to be came alive.  The person that would hurt her. Because she found someone that did know how to love her from the start. That knew how to care of what he had. I'm the unlucky fool, who grew up with a distorted view on how to love, how to take care of those that you love. Sometimes, it's not if or if not you love them. Sometimes you just don't know how. I wish I knew how, back then I wished I knew how. I did everything in my power to learn. But it wasn't enough. If I met her any later,  I would have not fallen in love with her as I did.  If I didn't go through life the way I did, to end up with my distorted love.  Chances are I wouldn't have met her.  Things lined perfectly just to have her in my life the way she was.  So I can't be ungrateful,  just thankful.  If as the reader you feel cheated. Cheated  from a  true climax or anti-climax. Cheated because it somewhat abruptly ends. Where there was no resolution to the story, then you would have a better understanding to what the narrator and character did go through.  Because in life, sometimes things do abruptly end. With no finish, no resolution, and no closure.  Each memory becomes tainted, and you become ambivalent about every dot on your painting. Each dot becomes a shade of light and dark, and the universe becomes nothing more than a shade of grey. That's the interesting thing about depression, it doesn't have to be because you went through a terrible ordeal.  Sometimes you just have to take something away.  The story then isn't about the conflict or the end, it's about that one dot. The dot that changed a person from wanting life dreams, to settling for less.  Make a man or woman go from a friendly, outgoing person; to a closed off hermit. It's that same dot that will pull them back, from this terrible place.  Because Dots no matter how small they are, or feel; are far grander when whole.     FIN