#sorry this looks like some of my other drawings. i rushed the sketch out yesterday and built from there

[st4rstudent]

tis the valentoons

#clemart #im going to maintag this who cares anymore #ttcc #toontown corporate clash #macthinker #winndoe #sorry this looks like some of my other drawings. i rushed the sketch out yesterday and built from there #alsosorry ill draw that brain in nonship art soon. todays an exception ok. #if its not obbvious macs supposed to be holding a bouquet of flowers. i angled it weird

[6lostgirl6]

Hello again! I’m the anon from yesterday. May I request another Bill (totally good with Bill from any of the films. Alex Winter is just a cutie honestly) or Marko fic with an arty partner please? Just the thought of either of them casually posing like a catalogue model in the hopes their partner will draw them is endlessly amusing to me.

Also, I don’t feel like I’ve thanked you properly for the fic you wrote me so would you like a picture in return? Bill and Ted and The Lost Boys are usually my thing but if there’s anyone else you’d like me to draw, let me know.

Omg! I enjoyed writing this for you! You don't have to draw me anything!If you're sure, I would like the lost boys if that's okay? (●u●)

Muse

Marko x Artistic!Reader

TW: None

You were leaning against your large pile of pillows, the slightly worn blankets surrounding you like a protective cocoon. Whenever you felt artistic, you would always retreat to your nest and sketch whatever it was that your mind conjured. Sometimes you needed some alone time whenever you felt like drawing, being able to concentrate in your own private space helped you with your creativity. Your nest was practically your own art studio.

Often times, Marko would join you when he was also in a mood for sketching. Unlike Paul, who needed music to help him concentrate, Marko enjoyed the silence. Therefore, the both of you decided that you would draw together weekly as a little stay at home date. Just being in each other's presence was enough to put you both in a creative mindset, shoulders touching and lingering gazes and draw whatever came to your minds.

Unfortunately, Marko and the boys were due for a feeding tonight. Therefore, Marko wouldn't be able to join you this week for your little date night filled with flirtation and art projects.

_________

It has been a few hours and while Marko was full from feeding earlier, he was hungry for something else. He craved the presence of his precious mate. Earlier, he was a little upset that he had to cancel his date with you. However, him and the boys haven't fed in a while and they knew they couldn't postpone any longer lest they wanted to feel weak.

However, he was going to make it up to you. Rather than staying out all night like usual, he got on his bike and arrived earlier than expected. He just missed you so much.

He walked into the cave and headed towards your slightly concealed nest that was surrounded by shimmery-curtains. Sometimes, whenever Marko would visit your nest, he felt like he was walking upon royalty. That's what you were to him. His mate. Someone priceless.

Uncharacteristically quiet, Marko pulled back the curtain and stared as he watched you continue with your sketch. You were humming to yourself, not noticing the new presence that has joined you. He continued to watch you, smirking to himself while the leather of his fingerless gloves.

God, you were so perfect and completely his.

Depite Marko being quiet, he will always find ways to create a little mischief. He devised a plan and quickly put it into action.

Silent as a mouse, he rushed towards the bed, swan diving and belly-flopping onto the bed. "Hey, baby!" He greeted loudly, wrapping his arms around your waist and giving you a squeeze.

You gasped in freight from the scare and turned towards him with a playful glare. "Don't do that!" You scolded, lightly bonking his head with the end of your pencil.

He laughed, rubbing your sides as he nuzzled into your lower back. "Sorry baby, you're just so easy to scare." He placed a kiss into your back before continuing his nuzzling.

You felt your face grow a little warm. "Shush. What are you doing back so early?" You asked, curiously.

Marko sighed before pushing himself up, moving to where he was sitting next to you and leaned against your shoulder. "Mmm, missed you is all." He said, looking up at you with a smirk.

You smiled and turned, giving him a small kiss which he quickly reciprocated. "I missed you too. Are you gonna draw with me?" You asked.

Marko chuckled mischievously. "I was thinking," he turned around, propping himself on his elbows and bending one of his legs, leaning his head back so his long curls caressed your sheets, "I could be your muse tonight."

You watched him in amusement as he continued to hold his pose. However, seeing him like that was very attractive. His jacket was starting to slip down his shoulders and his white crop top was pulled up slightly, exposing his tummy. He reminded you of those ancient Greek statues.

"How could I not draw such a handsome man?" You flirted, flicking through your journal to start a fresh page.

He smiled, lifting his head to look at you better. "After this, it'll be my turn to draw such a gorgeous being."

"Am I your muse or something?" You chuckled, leaning forward to fix his curl that hanged in the middle of his forehead.

His smile turned devious, "You've always been." He gripped your hand before you could pull away. "And I am yours." He gave it a squeeze.

You giggled, returning the squeeze. "Being each other's muses, how romantic."

"Course it is." He roughly pulled you close, gripping the back of your head and giving you a deep kiss, which you happily returned.

Pulling away slightly, he liked his lips before randomly flopping onto his back. "Now Hurry up, babe! I'm not getting any younger here!"

You laughed before shaking your head at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."

#the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys #tlb 1987 #marko the lost boys #marko tlb #marko x reader #alex winter

[vampirerosearin]

Damon's a Dickhead and We're Loaning Shit (Chapter 7)

Book Title: Widowed Willow Word Count: 2,440 Warnings: Damon creeping on Amari, Blood, Stefan catching feels, Death (dream), Amari is stupid Story Master List | Previous Chapter | Next chapter DO NOT PLACE MY WORK ANYWHERE ELSE! You may reblog, but DO NOT repost! Let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part.

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Amari was in her bedroom sketching a drawing of the blonde lady from her vision. Hearing a creek behind, she turned to see the raven-haired Salvatore. "Why are you up here?"

I wanted to check on you," Damon told her, walking into the room and glancing around. "What Caroline said was out of order."

Amari chuckled, shrugging her shoulders and flipping the page to another drawing of a wolf. "That's just Caroline, sometimes she's insensitive."

Damon walked over towards where Amari was sitting, looking at the sketchbook in front of him. Glancing at the brunette, he questioned "You draw?"

"No, I shit on paper," Amari scoffed, before shoving Damon's leg in amusement and exclaiming, " Yes, I draw. Helps me escape reality, it's how I express myself."

"It's impressive, like you," He stated, sitting on the edge of the bed while looking through a few drawings, "You seem to make Stefan smile more and I haven't seen that for a while."

Amari chuckles, shaking her head and looking down at her hands, "Earlier, did you mean Kathrine?"

Damon hummed in agreement, watching the curly brunette continue drawing before glancing at him and questioned, " How'd she die?"

The raven-haired vampire had a look of hurt on his face before he sadly informed, "In a fire."

"Damn," Amari's eyes widened in shock, turning towards the older Salvatore, "Recently?"

Damon shook his head, she shifted to sit next to him, and told her, "It seems like it was just yesterday."

"I'm sorry," Amari said with a small sympathetic smile, before frowning at the confusion on Damon's face. "About Katherine. You both lost her."

Damon looked at the dark-skinned girl in shock, no one had shown him kindness in a very long time, and honestly, he liked it.

The pair spaced out, lost in each other's eyes, slowly leaning in. Amari flinched back, scaring Damon out of the trance. He shook his head before standing up, "Right, well, goodnight princess."

The pair spaced out, lost in each other's eyes, slowly leaning in. Amari flinched back, scaring Damon out of the trance. He shook his head before standing up, "Right, well, goodnight princess."

He chuckled at the scoff from Amari, dodging the pillow thrown at him, while walking out the room.

───────

The following night, Michelle, Caroline, and Bonnie stood around the bonfire cheering with the cheerleaders while Amari and Elena stood on the side. After thinking about her talk with Damon, Elena decided to quit cheerleading.

"Wait, wait, let's be honest here," Tanner yelled through the microphone, "In the past, we used to let other teams come into our town and roll right over us! But that is about to change. We've got some great new talent tonight starting on the offensive line, and I'm gonna tell you right now, it has been a long time since I have seen a kid like this with hands like these."

The curly-brunette girl shared a smile with Bonnie, turning away when she heard people encouraging a fight happening behind her. Amari gasped, eyes widening in shock seeing Tyler on top of Jeremy with Vicki yelling, trying to separate them.

"Tyler, stop it, you're hurting him!" Vicki yelled, Amari, running over to them but before she could intervene Stefan ran around her and pulled Tyler off Jeremy, "Hey, he's down enough."

Amari's eyes widened in horror, watching Jeremy climb back to his feet and grab a piece of a broken bottle. Before she could stop him, he swung at Tyler, missing his target when Stefan held his hand up. He cut the Salvatore boy's hand, making the tall brunette gag placing her hand against her mouth to stop the bile from coming out.

Matt rushed over pulling Tyler away as he yelled, "Tyler. Knock it off. Stop!"

"Jeremy," Elena made her way towards her brother and exclaimed, "Put your head up, you're bleeding"

Jeremy just pushed his sister away, hissing out, " I'm fine"

"Yeah, you smell fine!" Elena yelled, scoffing in disbelief. Jeremy rolled his eye,s not in another mood for another lecture, "just stop, okay?"

Amari sighed, watching him walk away before turning to Stefan. She grabbed his hand, trying to pry it open, but he clenched his fist, "Let me see."

"No, no," Stefan stared at the brunette nervously and exclaimed, "It's fine."

"Really," Amari questioned, sending him an unimpressed look and questioned, "Because it looked like you got stabbed."

Stefan sighed, showing his hand to Amari, but there was nothing there. She frowned in confusion, running her fingers across his palm, she was sure he had been cut.

"I saw it, it was…" Amari trailed off, cradling his hand to her chest. She glanced between Stefan's face and his hand. He shook his head in response, trying to assure her, "He missed. It's not my blood. See? I'm fine" he told her wiping his hand on his jeans.

"No, nope," Amari shook her head, clutching his hand to her while eying him with concern, and exclaimed, "I, I saw it. The glass cut your hand."

Stefan looked at the curly brunette softly seeing the concern she had for him. He smiled softly, cutting her off of her rant, "It's ok, I'm ok." It's almost kick-off time, all right? So, um, I'll, uh, I'll see you after the game."

Amari nodded, squeezing his hand before letting it go, watching him run off. Elena came to her side hearing the entire conversation between her and Stefan, they knew something was wrong, they saw her brother cut her boyfriend's hand. The brunette grabbed Amari's arm and dragged her over towards Bonnie who was standing with the cheerleaders.

"Hey, where've you guys been?" Bonnie asked with furrowed eyebrows making her way over to the girls. Amari and Elena exchange a look before the brunette asked, "Can we ask you a serious no-joke question?"

"You know forget I said anything, Elena's dinner party plot totally won me over." Bonnie told the two girls with a wave of her hand only Elena shook her head with a serious expression and questioned, "No, Bonnie, what was it? Did you see something?"

Bonnie let out a deep breath sighing in defeat and explained to the two girls what she felt the night she touched Stefan at the comet, "It wasn't clear like a picture. Like today, I kept seeing those same numbers I told you about; 8,14, 22."

"Yeah?" Amari questioned with furrowed eyebrows, crossing her arms and thinking about the riddle she and Bonnie tried to solve.

"When I touched Stefan, it was a feeling and it vibrated through me, and it was cold and" Bonnie began to explain before she hesitated causing Elena to send Bonnie a look and asked, "And what?"

Bonnie glanced between the two girls and told them. "It was death. It's what I imagined death to be like."

───────

Amari shot up with a gasp, hearing a noise downstairs. She sighed, glancing around her room before climbing out of her bed and walking out the door, "Hello?"

The tall brunette stopped, glancing around before looking downstairs, "Elena? Jeremy?"

"Hell, Jenna?" She calls out, sighing when she spots a shadow moving towards the living room, "I swear, you dickheads can try to scare me, but It's not working."

"Hello," Amari scoffed, walking down the stairs and walking into the living room. She's met with silence causing her to frown, switching the light switch. Not light, she huffs in confusion, "The fuck?"

A bright light shines on her face, she squints and waits for her vision to clear before glancing at the tv. A news reporter was on the tv, "This is Logan Fell, live with breaking news, another animal attack."

"What the fuck," Amari slowly walks forward, stopping behind the couch. "The wild animal terrorizing citizens has claimed another two victims, local high school students."

"Elena Gilbert and her adoptive sister, Amari Taylor," A picture of the two girls appear on the screen causing the curly brunette to place her hand against her stomach in shock.

"Police are certain that forensic evidence will confirm that this is the same animal responsible for recent attacks," Her eyes began to water only to hear a voice behind her taunt her, "Be ready."

Amari spun around, gasping when she saw Elena's body on the floor and Damon standing next to the brunette body with a smirk on his face and blood around his mouth.

She cursed, spinning around and running out the room, heading straight for the front door. Letting out a scream when Damon appeared on the other side of the door.

"Goodbye," She slammed the door shut, wheezing when Damon appeared in front of her once again causing him to smirk as he launched himself at her biting into her neck and causing her to let out an earth-shattering scream.

Stefan's eyes snapped open, sitting up on his bed with a gasp trying to steady his breathing at the dream he had of a dead Elena and his brother attacking Amari.

The youngest Salvatore glanced around his room, sighing in frustration at the sight of his brother sitting by his desk with a smirk on his face.

"Bad dream," Damon asked, a mischievous look on his face smirking at his brother and sarcastically asking, "Do you know how easy it was to get into your head just now? You really need some human blood. It might even be the playing field. Football reference. Too soon?"

───────

The morning after the football game, Amari sat on the floor next to her bed hidden from the doorway. She couldn't help but think about Bonnie predicting Mr. Tanner's death, and it is a supposed animal attack.

She knew something was wrong with mystic falls; there's never been an animal attack done in the open, especially on school grounds. Walking into the hallway, she grabbed the sketchbook Stefan gave her thinking about Salvatore and his brother.

The curly-brunette ran downstairs, turning into the kitchen and grabbing a water bottle. The tall brunette frowned, turning around and seeing Jenna insulting the newsman on tv. An amused smile appeared on her lips watching Jenna, " Scum ball. Scum bucket."

Amari snorted at the names her aunt had made up. She paused, glancing at Elena when she walked into the room carrying a box with a confused look on her face and asked, "Who are you talking to?"

Jenna who kept her eyes narrowed on the newsman pointed towards the screen with the tv remote in irritation as she grumbled loudly, "Him. The news guy, also known as Logan 'Scum' Fell"

Amari's eyes widened in realization as she threw her head back laughing and mumbled, " Oh, my goodness."

"Remember when your mom told us why Jenna moved away from Mystic Falls?"

"No way," Elena looked at Amari in surprise before chuckling shaking her head in disbelief as she stood between her friend and aunt and exclaimed, "You and him?"

She hummed tilting her head to the side and commented, " He's cute"

Amari coughed, beating her chest before looking at Elena in disgust. Jenna narrowed her eyes, "He is not cute!"

"There's nothing cute about him," She turned the tv off, not wanting to see his face any longer. Chuckling, Amari peeked inside the box in Elena's arms, "What's this?"

"I got it from the safe deposit box, Mom told Mrs. Lockwood she'd loan it for their heritage display," Elena explained as Amari reached in and took out a ring, "Is this your Grandma Beth's wedding ring?"

Elena hummed, nodding her head, and informed, "Originally, it was Great-great-Grandma Mary's wedding ring."

Jeremy walked into the room looking at all the items in the box picking up one as he looked between his family and curiously asked, " How much do you think this stuff is worth, like, on eBay?"

Amari shrugged as Elena sent Jeremy an unimpressed look, snatching the item back from him and narrowing her eyes at her brother, and sternly told him, "You're not gonna find out."

"That stuff is mom's and dad's," Jeremy scoffed in disbelief rolling his eyes and exclaiming, "You can't just give it away"

"We aren't, we're loaning it," Amari explained with a small smile. "We'll get it back after the founders' party tonight."

───────

Later that day, Amari sat in the living room texting Bonnie who was telling her about her 'no date' problem. Caroline is going with Damon and Elena is going with Stefan.

Suddenly the doorbell rang, and the tall brunette sighs before rocking forward to get up only to flop back down. She huffs, "Door!" Elena ran downstairs, glaring at Amari before opening the door, "What're you doing here?"

"I'm here for my mom," Tyler explained causing Elena to nod her head, picking up the box by the door, handing it over to Tyler, and softly warning him, "Please be careful."

Tyler nodded his head as Jeremy joined his sister by the door, narrowed his eyes at the Lockwood boy, and hissed, " Yeah, be careful with it, dick."

Elena's eyes widened in shock, ignoring the holler of laughter from the living room she slaps her brother on his arm and scolded him, "Jeremy! Don't start"

She glanced between the boys with a stern look, Tyler shrugged his shoulders, "I'm fine, he's just being a punk."

"You're a punk," Jeremy scoffed, glaring at Tyler.

Elena sighed in annoyance, pushing Jeremy back into the house before turning to face Tyler, "Tell your mom we'll see her tonight."

"Elena!" Amari cried, a thud following right after. Elena sighed before jogging into the kitchen to help Amari, "Amari, how?!"

Jeremy turned to follow but was grabbed by Tyler, "Would it make a difference if I told you I actually like Vicky?"

Jeremy sighed, glancing down before looking up, "Not even if you meant it, which you don't. You're still hung up on Amari, but she won't give you the time of day."

"I'm not surprised though," He huffs, shrugging his shoulders and glancing back at the sound of hollering. He sees a jumping Amari, her shirt pulled over her head, and a laughing Elena following her.

He chuckles before looking back at Tyler with a glare, "You did ruin every single relationship she's had."

He slams the door, turning just in time to catch a falling Amari.

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Story Mastery List | Previous Part | Next Part

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@mt2sssss

Let me know if you want me to add you to the taglist.

#widowed willows story #stefan salavatore x reader #stefan salvatore x oc #vampire diaries x oc #vampire diaries x reader #tvd fanfiction #vampire diaries fanfiction #vampire diaries x black reader #vampirerosearin #bonnie bennett #elena gilbert x oc #elena gilbert x reader #elena gilbert #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore imagine #damon salvatore x oc #damon salvatore #jeremy gilbert #jenna sommers

[popsbridgerton]

Coming home again - Chapter One - A.B.

First of all, thanks to all the 116 people who liked the prolog and to those who sent a comment or a message or reblogged it. This means so much to me. Getting over 100 always feels amazing. So thanks to each and everyone. 💕

In this Chapter you get a little bit more of Benedict than of Anthony but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Feedback is always appreciated, doesn’t matter if it’s just a little note or even just one word I’d love to know what you think - even if it’s bad. Don’t hesitate and fire away. 😊

Words: 1300+ Note: Hadn’t proof read it yet, so sorry for any mistakes.

Summary: It’s the first morning after you arrived. Benedict who wasn’t there at the evening is extremely happy to see you and can’t let the opportunity to make his brother jealous slip away.

Prolog

The next morning arrived and your abigail helped you to get dressed and prepared you for breakfast. The day before were much more exhausted than you thought it would. You had an amazing dinner with the Bridgertons and then you all talked and enjoyed each other’s company while you remembered old stories. So, it came, that you were the last one to arrive at the room this morning, while all Bridgertons and your mother already sat on little sofas and chatted to each other or did some handwork or other stuff while they drunk tea and ate cookies.

“Good morning.” You half shouted when you arrived at the room and looked through it, smiling at everybody and when your gaze met your mothers you nodded shortly. “Y/N!” Benedict shouted and jumped up from his little sofa to come to you, arms wide open to hug you right when he would be close enough to you. “Ben!” You returned and looked at him, a big smile on your face, since it was to first time you saw him. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, yesterday. But I had some plans I couldn’t cancel.” He said and pressed you softly against his chest. “I heard about that. Some kind of exhibition?” You asked when you moved back again. Benedict raised an eyebrow and tilted his head before he nodded. “Yeah, some kind of exhibition.” He said and turned half around to look at Anthony who sat in his sofa but looked down immediately when Benedict had moved and pretended not to know anything. His legs were crossed over each other and his upper foot was bobbing.

You and Benedict went back to the sofa he had jumped off, but he sat down next to Anthony and you sat down on the empty sofa at the opposite, he had sitting on before. Anthony looked up from his newspaper and smiled at you, which you returned and then he got back to reading, while Benedict looked excited at you. He couldn’t wait to hear what you were going to tell him. Indeed, you had been best friends with Anthony when you were small. But also, you and Benedict were at the same age, so he spent most of the with you two as well and you became somehow a gang of three. You always being closer and more personal with Anthony while making fun and enjoying things was always easier with Benedict.

You poured yourself some tee and took one of the cookies before you looked up at him and smiling and raising a brow as if you would like to ask what he would like to know. “Tell me everything!” He said and placed his arms on his tights. You looked at him in surprise and took a sip of your hot tea. “Everything?” You asked back and placed the cup back on the table. “That’s quite a lot, Benedict.” You finished with a small grin on your lips. “What if we start with you, telling me how the exhibition was and how your drawing is going?” You raised a brow again and smiled at him, moving back to lean against the pillows. Anthony looked up from his newspaper again to see Benedicts reaction, but his brother only leaned back as well and pursed his lips.

“Well,” he started, and Anthony looked back to his newspaper, but you were sure he was listening. “it was good. I had some very interesting talks. It was very inspiring as well. I could talk to some Artists and they gave me some to tips how I could work on my lines.” He stopped and thought about what else he could tell he. “So that’s how drawing is going. I have to improve on my lines.” He finished his words with a little nod while he still looked at you. You were about to bite into your cookie, but you stopped. “Can I see them?” You asked and moved the cookie back down. “He never shows anybody.” Anthony stated, still looking t the newspaper in his hands. “Well then,” you returned. “It might be a perfect opportunity to make your brother jealous.” You tilted your head looking from Anthony to Benedict with a look on your face that supported your words. A little “pha” escaped Anthony’s lips like he would like to say that Benedict could never made him jealous but all of you knew that he could and since Benedict loved to play little games on his older brother he smiled and tilted his head. “Seems like it is, indeed.” And with these words he grabbed a little sketch book that was laying on a table next to him and moved over to you to sit next to you. When Anthony realized that Benedict stood up, his look moved up as well, while his eyes became darker. Benedict would show you his drawings and it made him jealous indeed. It didn’t bother him, that you would see what Benedict drew and he would not. He didn’t care much about his brother’s drawings. It bothered him that Benedict did something for you, he never did for anybody else. As if you had wrapped him around you little finger and worse you enjoyed it.

You and Benedict instead got a little closer together so you could see the drawings in his sketch book, and you were starting to talk about his lines and the things he drew. Anthony stared at you for a little longer, his eyes getting darker and his features getting more furious but then he covered his face with the newspaper and read the lines without knowing what he was reading. His ears still tried to hear what you and his brother were talking.

“That’s it.” Benedict said after a little time and clapped the papers of his sketch book together. “So, Miss Winterbottom, what’s your passion?” He asked and turned his head to face you. “My passion?” You repeated the question again and titled your head while you were looking at him. A small smile started to play around your lips. “My passion is fashion.” You said like a little melody and Benedicts brows went up while he still smiled as well. “Your passion is fashion?” He asked and repeated the melody you were using before. “Indeed, my passion is fashion.” You repeated again with the same melody and giggled a little. This was always the two of you. Making fun of the smallest, tiniest things and enjoying them so long until everybody else is annoyed as hell. And indeed, you could hear Anthony groaning when Benedict again with the same melody said, “How interesting that your passion is fashion.”

The two of you turned your heads to look at the eldest Bridgerton sibling, you both know how he had rolled his eyes on you. “Oh, come on, Lord Bridgerton” you said, emphasizing the ‘Lord Bridgerton’ as if he was something better than you. “Had you ever had pleasure to have a passion.” You raised a brow while he continued to pretend reading the newspaper. Benedict shook his head for this brother. “No, Lord Bridgerton” and he emphasized his brothers title in the same way you did before. “had never had the pleasure to have a passion. He doesn’t even know what passion is. He’s always too busy and important to enjoy things.”

The newspaper was moved down in a quick move that it made a loud sound. Anthonys features were dark and almost frightening. “Enough!” He said and looked at Benedict, who you thought, leaned a little deeper into the sofa as if he wanted to disappear. Anthony folded the newspaper and laid it on the table next to the sofa, stood up and rushed out of the room. You and Benedict watched him go, both a little shocked because of what just happened.  You were making fun not more, not less. “Seems like Lord Bridgerton really doesn’t know how fun looks like.” You rolled your eyes and looked at Benedict who sighed. “He did never.”

_

Hope you liked it if you did so, leave some feedback or reblog, please. If you like to be tagged please head over to this post.  😊

Chapter two

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony Bridgerton y/n #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton brothers #bridgerton fanfic #jonathan bailey #jonathan bailey x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagine #coming home again

[lemonpeter]

My first fill for @peterparkerbingo : Teacher/teacher !

I’ve had a little bit of a writers block, so I’m sorry if this isn’t my best. But I enjoyed writing it and I hope y’all enjoy reading it! 💕 just a bit of spidershield

1.5K words

Warnings: unprofessional behavior between coworkers, fluff, I think that’s it lol

***

Mr. Parker was no stranger to the stares of others. Whether his students, or his coworkers, or even the parents of his students sometimes, he knew that he was watched.

It didn’t bother him in the slightest.

Which was why he agreed to model for Mr. Rogers’ class. And also because he loved being around the other teacher.

The art teacher from across the hall needed a model for his class to do figure drawing. And he’d come to Peter first.

His reasoning was that the teacher had a strong body from dancing for so many years. And that allowed him to stay in positions to be drawn for longer periods of time.

The reasons he didn’t list were that he wanted an excuse to stare at the gorgeous man for a couple hours without seeming weird. But he didn’t need to tell anyone that.

Peter walked into the classroom during his free block, a small smile tugging at his lips when he saw Steve. The other teacher had charcoal smudged on his cheek and forehead and didn’t seem to notice at all. Or maybe he didn’t care.

“Pete! I mean- Mr. Parker.” Steve cleared his throat, grinning a little. “Hey, thank you so much for doing this. You’re the best.”

The younger man waved his hand, laughing. “It’s no big deal, I didn’t have anything going on right now anyways. I’m happy to help.”

Steve nodded. He rubbed at his nose momentarily, effectively smearing another black streak across his face. “Okay, so, the kids will all be here in a couple minutes. You know how most of them wait right up until the bell.” He gave Peter a knowing look. “But you’ll just be right there in the center and I’ll position you once we’re all ready, okay?”

Peter nodded, smile reaching his eyes as he watched Steve. “Sounds perfect. Now, do you want some help cleaning up?”

The art teacher blinked at him, glancing around the room. “I think I’m good, my kids are usually pretty-“

Peter shook his head, brushing his thumb over the charcoal mark on his cheek. “Not the room. Your face. You’ve got a little….” He rubbed at the mark gently until it started coming off.

“Oh! Oh, I’m okay.” Steve’s cheeks colored and he stepped away from Peter’s touch. “Thank you, though. I’m just gonna get more on me, right?” He joked a little. “No point in cleaning yet.”

Peter smiled at him fondly, nodding. “Alright. That makes sense.”

Students began filing in, whispering to those around them as they eyed the other teacher in the room. It wasn’t like it was anything scandalous to walk in on, but everyone loved drama and the chance to start a rumor. It was the most fun part about school. And almost everyone believed that there was something between the two teachers already.

Steve cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention when the final bell rang and the last of his students trickled in. “Alright, I mentioned yesterday that we’d be working on sketching figures today. So Mr. Parker here was kind enough to be our volunteer figure. Isn’t that nice of him?”

A few weak “Thanks, Mr. Parker”s were mumbled, but almost everyone stayed focused on Steve and getting their supplies out of their bags.

“Okay, so-“ Steve made his way to where Peter was standing, mentally figuring out how he wanted him positioned. Then he reached out to move him before pausing. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

Peter’s cheeks burned at the words when he heard the giggles from around the room in response, but nodded. “Of course.”

The art teacher’s hands gently guided Peter to where he wanted him, positioning him in a traditional ballet fourth position with one hand in front of him with the other gracefully held above his head. Peter moved his feet into position on his own when he understood.

“Do you think you can hold this position?” Steve asked softly, pulling his hands away to look at the younger man after he was finished.

“Of course.” Peter nodded, not moving at all. He knew that holding his arm up would get tiring eventually, but he didn’t want to ruin the picture. So he stayed as still as possible.

“Perfect. Thank you.” Steve smiled, going to his own seat and looking around at his students. “This is the position you’ll draw him in. You have all of class to complete your picture, it’s due by the bell.”

Everyone quickly got to work, eyes on Peter.

Steve started on his own sketch, an easy smile on his face as he started.

A recreation of Peter began to fill his page. Firm muscle on a slim body, his upper body hidden mostly beneath a loose blue tee. Dainty fingers holding position that lead into strong arms. Thick thighs that Steve wanted to feel wrapped around him that were clear in tight leggings. A soft bulge that the man had to be sure he didn’t pay too much attention to.

His sketch became clearer as time went on, as he was sure to capture every single detail of the man he admired from across the hall.

Just as he finished the gentle smile that curved at Peter’s lips with a stroke of his pencil, the bell broke through his blissful trance.

Steve blinked as he looked up, seeing his students packing up and Peter relaxing from his pose. “Oh, leave your papers at the table by the door. Make sure you signed your name on them,” he called before too many could get out the door.

Peter’s fingers gently massaged at his stiff arm as he relaxed, not noticing the other teacher approaching him again.

“I hope you’re not too sore.” Steve spoke up, his sketch held between his fingers. “I’m sorry if the position I picked was too…demanding. I just figured it would look nice.”

“No, it’s alright,” Peter assured him. “I’m a tough guy, I can take it,” he joked. His eyes landed on the drawing hanging at Steve’s side in his hand and nodded towards it. “I saw you were pretty focused over there. Can I see it?”

The teacher looked at the paper like he’d forgotten it was there and then back at the other man. “Oh- uh, yeah. Sure.” He held the sketch out nervously.

The dance teacher took it with a smile, eyes scanning over the drawing as he took in every detail.

He was quiet for a moment. Two moments. Long enough to make Steve worried that he did something wrong. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not-“

“Shh,” Peter scolded, not looking away from the page in his hand. “You’re ruining the moment.”

Steve shut his mouth again, watching him. Ruining the moment? What was that supposed to mean?

After a few more seconds, Peter finally looked up. “I’m not sure who exactly that is that you drew. He can’t be me,” he said confidently.

“What?” The picture looked exactly like him. Steve may have been a little rusty, but it was definitely Peter.

“Nope, can’t be. Because whoever that is is gorgeous.” The dance teacher grinned at him, the expression a little goofy. “Steve, you’re incredible.”

Steve finally relaxed again, laughing a little. “Oh. Thanks, I don’t know about incredible, but thank you.”

Peter went to hand the paper back, looking up at him when he was stopped. “It’s yours.”

“No, I want you to have it. Please.”

The dancer smiled more, nodding. “Thank you.” Then he paused, going to grab a scrap piece of paper and a pencil.

Steve watched him curiously, chuckling at how he was furiously scribbling on the paper. “Okay?”

“Shh, I’m creating.”

After about a minute of frantic doodling, Peter confidently held up the paper and handed it over.

Steve raised an eyebrow, laughing loudly as he saw the drawing. He just couldn’t help himself. “Why am I a triangle? With just a circle for a head?”

Peter pouted a little before laughing with him. “We can’t all be artists. But that’s not the important part.”

Steve looked lower on the paper, brows furrowing when he saw a number. “I already have your extension. And you’re across the hall. Why would I need-“

“That’s my cell number, Steve.” Peter started to walk to the door. So he wouldn’t be stuck there if he was rejected. “Feel free to call. For anything.”

“Your cell…why?”

Peter sighed, leaning against the doorway. “I want you to call me, Stevie. Clear enough for you?” He bit the inside of his cheek before blurting out his comment. “Maybe you could do some more figure drawing of me. Just not as professional.”

He rushed to leave after what he said, face flushed in embarrassment. What the hell was that?

Steve watched him go, eyes squinted as students for his next class filed in. “Not as professional…what does- oh my god, does that mean naked?”

His classroom fell completely silent and he wished that he could take his words back. He’d forgotten that they could hear every word.

One brave soul decided to speak up after the silence continued. “I say go for it.”

#spidershield #my writing #peter parker #steve rogers #steve x peter #steve rogers x peter parker #dance teacher!Peter #art teacher!steve #peterparkerbingo2021 #if there are any insane obvious editing mistakes let me know #other than that just ignore them lol I’m tired and am proud for even getting this much written

[shoichee]

Hello! Can I perhaps ask for no. 28. “Make me” from your prompt list for my beloved Imayoshi? It's so nice seeing him here on your theme and avatar and that pERFECT url, it feels like I finally found my people.

HELLO HELLO, and YES I WAS SO SURPRISED THAT NO ONE TOOK THIS URL... considering that it was just an alternative spelling of shoichi and its a rlly short handle too mwehe // im sort of a particular person when it comes to how something looks, whether itd be outfits, drawings, coloring, and the UI of a blog, u name it.... i may have spent hours trying to have the perfect colors for this theme PLEASEEEE, but without further ado here is our man, our little shit, Imayoshi

@knb-kreations howdy! another new work posted here!

Imayoshi x Reader

28. “Make me”

Word Count: 2331

prompt list here

»»—————　☼　—————««

Imayoshi doesn’t exactly know how he feels about you.

Scratch that, he does know. He’s quite amused at the shenanigans you pull on others around you, and a lot of times, you actually elicit a few dry laughs out of the guy. Other times though, he’d wish that you would just shut the fuck up, especially when all he hears amidst his studying was your loud “whispering” and “hushed” jokes. How you were always nearby no matter where he is was still a mystery that he casually ponders about from time to time. Perhaps your natural tendency to project your voice creates the illusion that you were near when you really weren’t?

No matter, such trivial thoughts can’t occupy his mind when college entrance exams loom closer. Then again, they weren’t particularly difficult; they were simply a hassle to secure near-perfect scores, especially when his chances of admittance rely critically on how well he does.

“That’s an awful drawing of a samurai,” Susa comments, snapping Imayoshi out of idle thought.

“Ho? Is it really terrible if you were able to tell what it is?” Imayoshi chuckles. “The point of a drawing is to convey the right idea or emotion. It seems that my drawing skills hit a bulls-eye with this sketch, no?” He playfully spins his pencil around, patiently waiting for his reply to goad him.

All Susa does in response is to roll his eyes before he turns his full attention back to his notes. He knows better than to try a comeback against Imayoshi, who can easily make it backfire against the person with a pleasant close-eyed smile. Imayoshi, seeing Susa’s nonverbal resign from engaging further banter, also looks down back to his book of scribbled notes and chicken-scratch drawings before he exhales an inaudible sigh.

School just doesn’t cut out to be mentally stimulating for him. It’s a little too repetitive and mundane for his taste.

“Argh!! Oh no!” your voice rang out, despite your poor attempt to be reasonably quiet. “I forgot applications for the Coca-Cola scholarship are due today!”

Coca-Cola… what?

Everyone looks up to warily eye you, and your few friends, who are currently rushing to pull you down and slap their hands over your mouth to mute you, were panicking at the new attention you managed to garner. Even still, your mind seems more fixated on whatever was on the laptop’s screen, rather than what they were doing to you.

Imayoshi can’t help but stifle his audible mirth from how you manage to change the mood of the entire library within seconds.

“How do you even forget something as important as a huge scholarship like that?” Susa says in dismay. “Makes me kind of wonder how (l/n) would handle life after graduation, to be honest.”

“Well,” Imayoshi begins. “I wouldn’t worry too much. It’s best not to underestimate (l/n)-san. Surely we’ve learned our lesson with Seirin?” He toys with the pencil grip before he sporadically draws some lines loosely resembling another sketch.

“Drawing again?” Susa raises a brow. “Have you even been studying?”

“Well,” he replies. “There’s still plenty of time before exams—months to be exact. Could you even study with the current distractions in here?” At his own words, he nudges his chin in your direction.

“It’s not just any exams though, it’s—”

“Whether they have more importance or not doesn’t really concern me. After all, standardized testing isn’t worth stressing out for when we’ve taken essentially the same thing all our lives.”

“What most are worried about is the content inside the exams, Imayoshi,” he said, carefully treading into dangerous waters with Imayoshi’s tendency to take all replies as mind-game challenges for his own amusement.

“‘If you have been paying attention consistently throughout the year, you wouldn’t be having much trouble…’ that’s what you once oh-so-wisely said to Wakamatsu yesterday, hmm?” His mimicking tone drips a hint of arrogance. “Unless you mean to tell me my ears do not work? But by all means, please feel free to correct me.”

“That’s different,” he sighed, his face clearly evident that he was done with Imayoshi’s shit. “That exam only tested content for the past year, not your entire academic repertoire over the courses of middle and high school.”

“I’d like to think that the logic still applies the same way.”

“Well,” Susa heaves with a languid stretch. “You generally score better on the exams than me, so you’re probably right. Still, don’t neglect your studying.”

“Right, right, Susa-senpai~”

“... Please don’t call me that again.”

“... If you say so,” he said, but his smile blatantly showed his real intentions of never stopping his irritable quips. Susa gets ready to pack up his book bag before he heads out the door with a friendly wave. Imayoshi half-heartedly returns the gesture with a casual wave of his own. He immediately notices you also packed up and about to leave with a worried frown, and of course, while audibly mumbling your concerns and makeshift schedules to accommodate time for last-minute essay writing. By now, all of your friends have left for home.

“Ah, biology lab due next week, kanji worksheets due tomorrow, hmm, um, how would I finish this on time… ah, calculus test is tomorrow too, ah shit… should I ask someone to tutor?—ah, but it’s super last minute, and there’s still that scholarship… argh, fuck!” Your voice peaked in volume at the end, and the librarian immediately shot daggers at you.

“Shhhhh!”

“A-Ah! S-Sorry, sorry!”

Imayoshi was watching you with his chin on his arm propped up on the desk, unable to control the smile that escaped his lips. You really were entertaining to watch, and you never cease to bore him.

He turns away to crack his neck and roll it around before methodically packing up his writing utensils and notebooks. Soft shuffling filled the air as he rearranged the items inside his bag. As he turns to pack the last thing on the table, which happened to be the notebook filled with his idle doodling, his face slightly softens at the drawing he did after the samurai. Yes, the one Susa chastised him for when he could’ve been studying. Yes, perhaps he was right when he was terrible at drawing after all; your panicked face and wild hand gestures didn’t really translate well into paper, and it looked a little too much like a horror comic and less than a sketch of you. Still, he’s oddly proud of it.

Imayoshi promptly pushes the chair in and leaves the library, but when he rounds the corner of the adjacent hallway, he bumps into you.

“Er—hi! I mean, please, uhhh… if it isn’t too much to ask—canyoupleasetutormeforthecalculustesttomorrowbecausemyfinalgradedependsonthat?”

Imayoshi winces at the sheer volume of your voice and plugs his ears in out of habit to block out some of the decibels. Wakamatsu was eerily similar to you in that regard. Only difference between the two of you was that you were deceptively intelligent. Extremely so.

“My, my, if it isn’t (l/n)-senpai!” He fakes a surprised look, earning him an eye roll on your end. “You need someone like me to teach you the works?”

“I—what? We’re literally in the same calc class, Imayoshi,” you retort. “Besides, drop the ‘senpai’ honorific. It feels so slimy when you say it so disingenuously… Aren’t we both 3rd years too?”

“I’m so hurt,” he mocks. “What if I was really genuine with you?”

“Look, right now, no remarks from you, Evil Glasses,” you say. “It’s really, really urgent and I don’t know how to grasp the material for the class lately, plus my essay, ugh…” You rub your fingers against your temples in an attempt to make the stressful headaches disappear while Imayoshi simply watches with his eyes slightly open.

“... You usually do well on all your exams, no? Unless my eyes and memory fail me.” It was true; even though you were as loud-mouthed as Wakamatsu, you would often shock a lot of people when your name always appeared in the higher percentiles of exam results. Apparently most students and teachers associate your rowdy personality with an expected subpar academic performance. He has you to thank for when your score reports always cause reactions of utter disbelief from the teachers. You really do liven up the school and make it a lot more unorthodox.

“I guess…” you mumble. “But I really wanna do especially well for this one because math is my weakest subject, and you always score the highest for these types of exams, so…”

“It may be my best subject,” he says, leaning slightly closer to your face. “But I’m not the one with the highest scores in any math subjects throughout these years, and we both know that quite well, don’t we, (l/n)? Why don’t you come clean about the real reason why you’re here?”

“Oh my literal fuck—Imayoshi, you’re one of the best students in calc right now regardless of exam results,” you petulantly huffed, not backing down from his intimidation. Imayoshi notes your cheeks reddening, and he figured it was either because of the close proximity between your faces or the fact you were frustrated… perhaps both. “And you’re the only one around here on campus who I could ask!”

“Really now,” he chimes, moving closer to whisper in your ear. “Are you sure?” With incoherent stammers, you backed away from him, slapping your hands against both of your ears to protect them.

“W-W-What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Looks like I won this one, (l/n)-san,” he purrs, relishing the fact that only he could render you this quiet. “Ho? What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

“I—Shut up!” you lamely shoot back. “You can just say no if you really don’t wanna do this—urgh, I’m leaving, I’m not gonna waste any more time—”

“How hurtful,” he dryly remarks, standing up straight again after leaning for a quite a while. “It’s almost as if you’re rejecting me~” He knew you would always take his bait and quip back (unlike Susa), regardless of whether or not you tell him that you weren’t going to engage further.

“As if,” you snorted, making another exaggerated eye roll. “You’re the last person who would ever be hurt from this.”

“Dear me!” he exclaims. “Have you ever considered that perhaps I don’t help out people for free? Did you think I would be a gracious, selfless person who would help you like a saint?”

“Okay, fine! Perhaps I didn’t think that far ahead, okay? You just were the first person that came to mind, and I thought asking you wouldn’t hurt.” His smirk widens almost maliciously at your words, lips already opening to deliver another irritating quip before you immediately spoke again to stop him. ���Okay, Imayoshi, you little shit, just shut up—I don’t wanna hear anything from your mouth right now.”

“I don’t see any reason why I should listen to you at all,” he muses. “Why don’t you make me?” He has a shit-eating grin plastered across his face, eagerly eyeing your next move, and as he expected, you let out a frustrated noise that prompted passerby students to shoot pointed looks towards the both of you.

What he didn’t expect was for you to take a huge step towards him, unceremoniously pull him down to your level, and press a reverberating smack on his lips. His eyes are immediately blown wide open to look at your embarrassed, but determined face. His fingers unconsciously move to touch his warmed lips.

“... That was quite romantic, wasn’t it, (l/n)?” he dryly says, recovering almost immediately from the shock. All the other students fled from the blatantly bold scene to save face. Not that Imayoshi really cared.

“Okay, you know what? Bye, I’m not gonna play anymore mind games with you,” you grumble. “Essays and studying aren’t gonna be done by themselves—wah!”

Imayoshi gently tugs you back to reciprocate back a kiss, meticulously slipping his hands behind your head and on your waist to accommodate you. Your eyes are completely open from the shock that the Imayoshi Shoichi was actually kissing you. You don’t close your eyes from the sensation, completely entranced when you make eye contact with his half-lidded eyes watching your every reaction closely. The kiss ended all too soon, and Imayoshi separates himself from you, secretly admiring your dazed look.

“That was quite a strong reaction to just a simple kiss.”

“I—that was not just a ‘simple kiss!’”

“Now would you like to tell me the true reason why you approached me?”

“You’re… insinuating that you know something.”

“Well we wouldn’t know unless you come clean,” Imayoshi purrs. “I can sometimes be wrong too.”

“Ugh, what the hell—fine, I am quite enamored by you, and uh, I… find it infuriating to be with you, but it also gives me butterflies… so I thought I could be with you more… if I asked you—don’t get it twisted, though! I still need your help to study!...” He covers his mouth to suppress a laugh at your honesty.

“Was it really so hard to say that in the beginning, (l/n)-san?”

“Okay, that’s it! I’m really, really leaving! Fuck off, Imayoshi, I swear to—”

“Ho? Just a minute, darling~” he tuts, reaching to hold your hand. “Perhaps if you offer more kisses as an incentive, I’d be more inclined to offer my expertise.”

“How quaint,” you dryly reply. “It’s almost as if we’re in a relationship.”

Imayoshi can’t help but bark out a genuine laugh. You even managed to pick up some of his mannerisms so quickly.

“That’s an interesting proposal, (l/n),” he murmurs. “Should we try that?” You tut at him irritatedly as you tug your interlocked hands while speed-walking ahead.

“Hurry up, or I’ll consider breaking up with you right now.”

“Ah ha!~” he chuckles at your attitude. “How mean, (l/n)-san! Too bad that we both know that’s not going to happen anytime soon.”

#ask #narnvaeron #knb #knb scenarios #kuroko no basket #imayoshi shouichi #imayoshi shoichi #imayoshi x reader #imayoshi #knb fic #knb fluff #100 followers #100 follower milestone

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 1: Logince

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 1: Your soulmate’s name is on your wrist.

Content: Flower/Tattoo Shop AU, background character death (unspecified cause, none of the sides), that’s pretty much it, it’s just soft Logince.

Word count: 2.7k

A small ding from the store entrance pulled Roman out of his thoughts, and he groaned softly. It was nearing the end of his shift, almost closing time, and another customer at this time would probably mean he was staying after hours again. All he wanted to do was go home and watch cheap reality TV in his sweatpants while shoveling handfuls of hot cheetos into his mouth. So sue him, it had been a long day. But nooo. Someone else had just walked in, probably someone with a very specific style that was out of season and they would argue for half an hour, no matter how many times he explained that tulips aren’t blooming right now, Vanessa! 

Sure, usually his customers were great. Nervous first anniversaries, eccentric brides, all that romance stuff. He loved it. And they were usually all too willing to give him a budget and a color scheme and let him go wild, which was the best part about his job. He was good at it, too. His boss had seen his eye for style and almost immediately gave him solo shifts, which meant decently good pay and hours alone to belt out songs amongst the flowers and daydream to his heart’s content. It was a small enough business that the only mandatory part of his outfit was a green apron, so he could wear whatever he wanted, and he didn’t need a pesky nametag. Those had always weirded him out just a bit. So yeah, he loved his job, but right now, he knew himself too well. He had awful luck. 

With a forced customer service grin, he poked out of the backroom and began his usual spiel of, “Thanks for coming to The Rainbow Bouquet, what can I get started…” 

His words died in his throat at the mere sight of the man before him. Never had he been so equally attracted and frightened at the same time.

He was tall, probably just taller than him, but he held himself in a way that made Roman feel miniscule. Both arms were covered in tattoo sleeves, the left one a flurried mix of black and white and color, beautiful strips of pink and blue galaxies blending with grayscale skulls and clocks. The other had more order; shadows of a forest growing from around his wrist, shimmering mist curling up over his bicep and ending with a full moon stamped on his shoulder like a crest. A corner of something peaked up around the collar of his torn vest, and if Roman had to guess, there were most likely plenty more tattoos that were covered by his ripped black jeans and blue Nasa shirt. Not that his mind was going there at all, no siree. 

Once Roman’s brain had screeched to a halt back in his body, he spoke again.

“What can I get started for you today?”

The man swallowed with difficulty, taking in the rows and rows of flowers surrounding him. He definitely didn’t look in his element.

“I need an arrangement for my mother. She’s in the hospital.”

Ah, the part of the job that Roman didn’t enjoy. Probably half the orders that came in were for sick people or funerals, and those were always a lot harder to arrange. It was always hard to find joy in creating for something so dismal.

“I’m sorry to hear. Did you have anything specific in mind? Does she have a favorite flower?”

“Daisies. She likes Daisies,” He murmured, still admiring the space around him. Roman couldn’t help but smile at the man’s expression. It was just a little awe inspired, a little bit of childish wonder, under that rough exterior. It was a gorgeous shop, that’s one of the reasons Roman had started working there.

“That’s good, it makes it a little easier for me to design something when I have that to go off of. Do you have a budget, or…”

He shook his head weakly, finally turning to look at Roman. “Price isn’t an issue. This is one of the last things I’m going to be able to give her.”

“Oh,” Roman whispered, slowly putting down the pen he’d been writing with, “I’m so sorry.”

“It can’t be changed. There’s no point in losing sleep over it.”

“Just because it’s going to happen doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck. You’re allowed to be sad about it.”

The man narrowed his eyes, giving Roman a once over before lifting his chin slightly. “I don’t need advice from a stranger.”

“Of course you don’t,” Roman quickly corrected, remembering he was still at work, “My apologies. When did you want to pick it up?”

“I’m visiting her tomorrow at noon. Could it be ready by then?”

“You bet. Can I have a name for the pick up?”

“Logan.” Roman’s pen skittered over his notepad, almost falling through his fingers. 

Having a common name on your wrist was a curse in and of itself. And poor him, the hopeless romantic that he was, had met countless “Logan’s” in his day, and consequently fallen for most of them at first introduction, only to figure out quickly that they weren’t destined for a “Roman”. As inconspicuously as possible, he tried to glance down at Logan’s wrist, only finding a mass of swirling tattoos covering his skin. Dammit. There were some people born without soulmates, or had their soulmark fade to nothingness when their person passed away, and he tried not to think too terribly hard on which one Logan was. He tampered his rush of excitement as quickly as it had arisen and turned back to his notes, ignoring Logan’s raised eyebrow at his sudden stop.

Roman scribbled down the name and phone number as it was given, setting down the notepad with a customer service smile. The man spent no time dawdling, immediately starting towards the door, only to hesitate before walking out.

“Her favorite color is yellow.”

Roman nodded, the fake smile slowly morphing into an authentic one. “I can work with that.”

It was now a week after Logan had picked up the bouquet, a somewhat awkward interaction filled with small compliments towards the arrangement and Roman nearly dropping the flowers as their fingers touched while passing it over. As he was ringing up the total, he’d been able to uphold a brief conversation where Logan revealed he was a tattoo artist (no shock, considering he showed more inked skin than plain), and Roman showed off his rose tattoo on his upper arm. It would have been fine if the conversation ended there, but no, Logan had to reach up tentatively to brush his finger along the edge of the piece, commenting off handedly about how the color had started to fade.

“How long ago did you get this done?”

“Probably ten years, give or take.”

“You’re what, mid twenties? There’s no way you were legal ten years ago.”

“Who said I was?” It was said with a small wink that made Logan pull his hand away, an action that immediately dampened Roman’s mood.

“If you ever want it touched up, come by the shop. It’s just down the road.”

Roman had promised to consider, pulling the collar of his long sleeve shirt back up over the rose and bidding the man a good visit to his mother. Even now, a full week later, he couldn’t help his thoughts that were so centered around the tattoo artist. So maybe that was why Logan walked back into the shop the following Wednesday. I simped so hard I summoned him, Roman thought weakly as the gorgeous man strode straight up to the counter, leaning on it like he owned it. 

“I have a question.”

“What’s your question?  

“A client asked me yesterday to design a tattoo for her. A bouquet, seen from the top, and all she specified was it should feature hydrangeas, and she asked me to, quote, ‘go nuts’.”

“This isn’t sounding like a question so far.”

Logan sighed apprehensively, adjusting his glasses, “I was hoping you could give me some ideas on how to start. All the tips I found online contradicted each other in some way or another, and the arrangement you created for my mother was so well done…”

He trailed off, giving Roman a look that clearly said I need your help but don’t make me ask for it. Chuckling slightly, he leaned onto the counter as well, his face inches away from Logan’s. For the first time, he could see the small piercing on the man’s tongue as he sighed again. God, that’s hot.

“I’ll help you. On one condition.” 

“Being?” 

“Help me design my next tattoo.” In full honesty, he hadn’t even considered a second tattoo until that second. 

“Deal.” There was no hesitation in his answer, and he took Roman’s offered hand, barely shaking it in the small space between them. 

“Alright!” Roman pulled back, satisfied but disappointed as their hands separated, “Let’s talk flowers!”

And talk they did. For hours, in fact. It started with Logan’s tattoo dilemma, and Roman’s skillful eye and creative mind solved that problem in a flash, crudely drawing out a bouquet idea that fit all the criteria. The tattoo artist took it from there, using the notepad paper and Roman’s sketch, along with a quick round of the shop to see what the recommended flowers, fillers, and greens would all look like, and drew out a detailed piece that put Roman’s own art talent to shame. After explaining that his shift was done at the parlor and he had the rest of the afternoon free, Roman invited Logan to stay for a while longer, seeing as his day had dragged on customer-less so far, and he was bored. Plus, now was as good a time as any to pay back the favor. Two mugs of breakroom coffee later, the two were huddled around the counter, Roman describing his ideas and Logan sketching them like there was no tomorrow. Maybe half way through the brainstorm, the conversation switched to Logan’s mother (which he talked about hesitantly), then to Roman’s family, slowly changing to the absurdity of satin couch cushions, then to their favorite foods, and finally ending with a loud debate on whether pineapple deserved to be on pizza.

“It’s a fruit, Logan! Why the hell would you put fruit on a pizza?!”

“All I’m saying is that the sweet flavor of the pineapple balances out the tanginess of the marinara sauce, and adds more to the plain crust!”

“That doesn’t make it right!”

Logan had to go soon after that, wanting to visit his mom before visiting hours ended. He left with a begrudging smile on his face and a promise to come back another day, drawing an ear to ear grin from Roman. He’s just a friend, he reprimanded himself sternly, all the while sliding the drawing of his next possible tattoo into his phone case with startling reverence. No use getting attached to some who wasn’t his soulmate. 

Yet, he still couldn’t help but feel saddened as a week passed again, then two, then a month. His job had returned to it’s boring normalcy, with only the flowers and no cute boy to keep him company. Even when he sat at his little desk next to the counter, hands working effortlessly to string together order after order, he couldn’t help the occasional glance at the door. The hope that his prince charming would waltz back in, piercings and ripped clothing galore, never faded. 

A month and a half later, the little chime above the door dinged, and Roman glanced up from his handful of Baby’s Breath (seriously people, there are other fillers). Immediately a huge smile pulled at his lips and he dropped the half finished bouquet onto his table.

“Logan! What took you so… long…” His expression morphed into one of worry as he took in the other’s appearance. Gone was the usual grunge attire he was so prone to wearing, replaced with a black hoodie and beaten up Vans. His eyes no longer held that dangerous glimmer that had intimidated Roman so much when they first met. He just looked… small. Logan had never looked small before.

“My mom died last month,” He whispered.

Roman was over the desk in a second, pulling the man into his arms before he could protest. It took Logan a second, a long, awkward, stiff second, before he let his arms wrap around his waist, allowing his forehead to rest on the florist’s shoulder. 

“I thought I’d be okay when she died… it was inevitable. It was her time… so why does it still hurt so bad?” The desperate whisper shattered Roman’s heart. 

“You’re allowed to feel sad, Logan.” He felt him merely shake his head in response, but he said nothing to push the topic further. 

Logan didn’t cry as they stood there, though he clung to Roman almost desperately. If he had to guess, the poor man was probably already cried out. He looked exhausted, and his unusually slumped posture only weakened more when Roman tightened his arms ever so slightly. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. You were probably waiting.”

“Hey, no apologizing.”

“I just… didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“So what changed your mind?”

Logan shrugged, still not pulling away, “I couldn’t seem to snap myself out of it. And I needed someone who wouldn’t laugh at me. If our few interactions were anything to go by, you were that person.”

Roman decided to ignore the blatant implication that Logan didn’t have anyone except a practical stranger to go to. They could talk about that later, if he decided to stay for a while. Roman really hoped he did. 

When the tattoo artist finally pulled out of the hug, many minutes later, he pushed his sweater paws under his glasses to scrub at his eyes. Maybe he hadn’t cried, but he sure was close to it. 

“I’m sorry-”

“Stop apologizing.”

“I don’t even know your name, and I-”

“It’s okay, stop-” Roman reeled back slightly, eyebrows shooting into his hairline, “Oh… sweet Zac Efron. I never told you my name! Why didn’t you say anything?!” 

“It felt too late to ask,” Logan smirked subtly despite himself, letting his hands fall back to his side.

“Oh, my sweet summer child.”

“I am none of those things.”

Roman sighed in soft exasperation, smiling at the barely perceivable glimmer in the other’s eyes. Ah, there it is. “My name’s Roman. I can’t believe I forgot to tell you.”

He was instantly concerned with the way Logan’s face fell into one of total shock. Shit, what did he do wrong? The fear was quickly replaced with understanding, however, as the artist’s hand drifted to his right wrist. 

“What are the chances that your wrist says my name on it?” Logan said it like he was scared to be hopeful, like a happy ending was just not imaginable for him. Roman couldn’t comprehend all the emotions he felt at one time; elation, shock, fear. He answered in a choked voice, smiling all the while. 

“One hundred percent.”

The both upturned their arms in near harmony, Roman pulling his gardening glove down to reveal the name. He squinted at Logan’s wrist, finally noticing the small writing that just barely stood out underneath a grayscale (anatomically correct) heart. No wonder he missed it before, it almost blended in with the outline. 

And then Logan did cry, but so did Roman, so it was a little more okay. He seemed more confused than anything as Roman pulled him back in, holding him even tighter than before.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

“I’m so unused to… well, feeling. I’m not usually like this, I believe I’m just sleep deprived and worn out from-”

“You never, ever need to be guilty for feeling, you absolute punk stereotype.” Roman pressed a long kiss to the other’s temple, letting him unwind in his arms. “We’ll work on that together. I promise.”

A muffled affirmative hum was all he got in response. He pressed another kiss to the top of Logan’s head as his crying slowed, breathing out heavily into the man’s hair. Together. That’s all that mattered.  

Peep this gorgeous art piece for this fic

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #logince #logan sanders #roman sanders #ts soulmate au

[slasher-sweetie]

Can I requests Asa’s reaction to realizing he has feelings for uuuuh , maybe like one of the students at the school he works at , but not his direct student .

Of course! I hope you like it! ❤

Asa Emory x College Student!Reader

Asa sat at his desk, writing meticulously in his journal as he studied the insect in front of him. He had nearly finished his notes and was on his way to beginning his sketch when there was a knock on the door. With a sigh, Asa lowered his pencil. This had better be important, or whoever was standing on the other side of the door was getting skinned alive. He straightened his pencil and journal so that they were in an even line on his desk. 

"Come in," he called clearly, his dark eyes waiting to pierce the form of the person who dared to interrupt his work. 

The person who entered might have been one of the most attractive people he had ever seen in his life. Even complexion, stunning bone structure, and bright eyes. 

You poked your head in shyly and asked, "Doctor Emory?" 

Asa can't muster more than a single nod, "Can I help you?"

You give him a slow, unsure smile, "Uh yes," you walk further into the room, closing the door behind you. You look around momentarily at the thousands of preserved specimens that lined the walls, "I'm Y/n, the new office aide. Ms. Helker told me to bring you your mail." 

Asa studied you as you reached out to hand him a few envelopes, waiting long enough for your smile to look forced, and a crinkle to form between your brows before he took them from you. You straightened and gave him a brighter smile, and then your eyes traveled down to the insect on his desk and a gasp left your lips. 

"Is.. is that a Royal Goliath beetle?" you ask, subconsciously taking a step closer to the object of your attention. 

Asa stifles his shock, he didn't remember you being in any of his classes, so how did you know about Royal Goliath beetles? Most people despised insects. Apparently not you. 

You glance up to meet his eyes and give him another nervous smile, "They're my favorite, they're strength is incredible, did you know that they can lift 850 times their own body weight?" you giggle softly, "I mean, of course you do, you're the Professor." 

Asa is blown away by your knowledge but doesn't reward you with more than the soft upturn of the corner of his mouth. "Yes, they're extraordinary creatures. If you have such an interest in Entomology, then why aren't you in any of my classes?"

A faint blush dusts over the apples of your cheeks, darkening them, "I was going to, but my schedule is full with my required classes, and as part of my scholarship, I have to help out in the office when I'm in between lectures," you glance over at the clock and gasp, "Excuse me, Dr. Emory, I've gotta run. I have to go and pick up lunch at noon. Have a nice day!" 

With those words you were whirling around and exiting the classroom. Asa was taken aback by the abruptness of your departure. As he got back to work, he couldn't shake the lingering image of the way your lips peeled back from your teeth when you smiled. He quite liked the sight. 

***

Asa was late. Very late. If he hadn't been up half the night dealing with a particularly stress-inducing new addition to his collection, he wouldn't be rushing through the halls like some sort of buffoon. He glanced at his watch as he quickened his steps, he would NOT be late to his lecture over something so ridiculous. That was his last thought before he walked solidly into another body. Papers went flying, falling to the floor like a January snow, and Asa could feel his temper rising. 

His dark eyes focused on the idiot he had collided with, and he could've laughed when he saw it was you, just the person he couldn't get out of his head. He had imagined you as a part of his collection at least a thousand times since the last time you had met, and after this situation, he was fighting back the need to keep you in a cage. You always knew how to aggravate him when he was trying to attend to his business. 

Your bright eyes met his, and you looked downright repentant, "Dr. Emory! I'm so sorry. I was rushing to class and I, uh, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going," your lower lip trembled and you looked like you were on the verge of tears.

Asa sighed, and reached down to pull you to your feet, "No harm done, accidents happen." He then began to help you gather your papers that currently littered the hallway. One look at one of them told him it was an essay of some sort, it appeared to be about the impact of gerrymandering in urban areas. He handed you the papers and watched as you sorted through them carefully, putting them in some semblance of order. 

You looked up at him again, "I'm so sorry again, Dr. Emory, I should've been paying attention to where I was going."

Asa waved his hand, physically waving off your apology, "No need to be sorry, no harm done."

Your eyes softened, and the smile you gave him caused his breath to hitch ever so slightly. With a small thank you, you left Asa staring after your retreating form in wonder. 

The feeling in his stomach mimicked the fluttering of a thousand Painted Lady butterflies, and that was when Asa knew you were dangerous. You had to be a part of his collection, he had to have you, there were absolutely no arguments to be had about it. 

As Asa watched you disappear around the corner, he wondered if he could artificially replicate the way your eyes shined. 

***

Asa grumbled as he adjusted his tie for the sixth time. Why on earth did he ever agree to come to this boring party for the University's faculty members. The sooner he could leave, the sooner he could work on a new project involving a fascinating subject that he was turning into a Praying Mantis. Asa pivoted to the side, barely saving himself, as a writer walked by with a tray full of champagne glasses. Apparently the alumni had went all out for this soiree. 

Asa looked around, taking tentative sips of his champagne. He saw a few of his colleagues from the science department huddled up, laughing. He was about to go and greet them when out of the corner of his eye, he saw you. 

You stood there, dressed impeccably, your outfit flattering your figure, drawing Asa's eyes to all of your best assets. You were talking to the Political Science professor, an old man with a bushy white beard who was wearing an awful brown suit. Asa couldn't recall his name, Dr. Franklin maybe? It didn't matter because in that moment you had decided to throw your head back laughing at something the professor said. Your laughter was warm, and sweet, and it was better than the ticking of a Deathwatch beetle which, up until this point, had been Asa's favorite sound. His new favorite thing about you, you, who would be his newest addition to his collection. 

Asa started as the record scratch of reality sounded in his head. If you became part of his collection, would you ever laugh like that again? Could you ever laugh like that again? There was no way to force such genuine delight. Asa sighed, draining the rest of his drink. 

He'd have to take another path. 

***

It was Monday, and Asa knew you'd be by with his mail any time now. He was impatiently waiting, the ticking of the clock grating against his already frayed nerves. He needed to see you. He needed this to work. He wanted to consume your every waking thought as much as you consumed his. He wanted to possess your very being. 

As if answering his unspoken prayers, there was a gentle knocking at his door. 

Quickly, almost too quickly, Asa jumped out of his seat, "Come in." 

You poked your head in, and the mere sight of you was like ice on a burn. He could feel his muscles relaxing. His jaw was unclenching. All within moments of being in your presence. 

"Hello, Dr. Emory!" you greeted cheerfully, making your way over to him, "I've got your mail. No beetles today?"

Asa forced a small smile, trying to fight through his obsessive compulsions to take you in his arms and never let you go. "No, not today. How are you?"

You blink at him in surprise, but quickly hide it with a smile, "I'm fine, a little sore from helping my friend move into their new apartment yesterday, but besides that great! How are you doing?"

"I'm well, thank you. Do you like Italian food?" quick, to the point, social interaction had never been Asa's strongest point. He just hoped you'd say yes. 

Your smile falls slightly, you had never been more baffled by a person before. Asa rarely ever spoke to you, which hadn't stopped you from forming a crush on him, but now he was making an effort to hold a conversation. How strange. 

"Yes, I love Italian food, it's one of my favorites. My grandmother makes the best ravioli." 

Good. Good. Things were going according to plan. Asa glances over to the clock on the wall, nearly noon. Lunch time. Get it over with. 

"Would you like to accompany me to lunch? Today," Asa clarifies quickly, not letting his inner turmoil show on his face. 

Your answering smile was breath-taking, "Of course! I'd love to. Let me just finish delivering the mail, and I'll meet you in the courtyard?" 

Asa couldn't help but smile, and nodded in agreement.

You turned to leave and stumbled over your own feet. A chuckle leaves you, and as you reach the door you turn back to look at Asa one more time, giving him another smile. 

It's then that Asa realizes that you don't have to be a part of his collection in order to belong to him. 

You were already on your way to being his. 

#slasher x reader #slashers #slasher x you #asa emory #the collector

[getnight]

So, hi, here is the part of my big fic about sons of Mike&Rachel and Harvey&Donna. It's just a little piece. Actually, Chris and Tyler (their sons) are my Original characters, but... I like them) And, yeah, we haven't Marvey at Canon, so i did their children in love. They are cute, I think🌚 Soooo... Maybe you'll be interested. Yeah.

Christopher caught up with Tyler in a few seconds, yanking off his hood and grabbing him lightly by the neck with his forearm. The boy flinched, leaned back and tried to pull his arm away, and when he failed, he tried to fall with his attacker to the side of the road. At that moment, Chris let go.

— Hey, Tyle, take it easy. This is me, — He steadied Tyler from falling and stood beside him, brushing him off.

— You... why did you do that? — Tyler frowned, pulling the headphones out of his ears and pinching a lollipop to his cheek.

— Why are you so cute? You're a formidable genius, but you love lollipops and you frown like you're five instead of fifteen.

— I'm not cute, keep your high energy endorphins with yourself, — Tyler pulled up his hood, turned around, and was about to continue walking when Chris literally dived in front of him, blocking the way.

They faced each other. Chris was literally a centimeter taller, but he had rather broad shoulders, which made him look much bigger than Tyler.

— Hey,— Christopher whispered.

— What? — Tyler replied.

Chris smiled fondly as he pulled back his hood.

— That's better. I love your hair, — he hesitated for a second, then gently took Tyler's hand, the other gently pulling the candy out of Ross' mouth and tugging at his wrist, pulling him into a soft, chaste kiss that Tyler happily responded to. Christopher's other hand went to the back of the boy's head, and he felt long fingers on his waist. When they finally parted, Chris said:

— Good morning, Tyle, — and he smiled sincerely, expecting something like that in return: "Don't call me that”.

— Good morning, Topha, — and the kind of smile that only Tyler Harvey Ross could give. Sincere and pure. The one that no one but those closest to her had ever seen. The one that opened the veil of a brilliant, sullen guy.

The nickname "Topha" seemed strange to Chris. It was indeed a derivative of his name, Christopher, but how Tyler came up with it... no one ever found out. Parents said that as a child, baby Ross could not pronounce Chris ' full name and called him "Topha". And so it turned out. Since then, Tyler only calls his boyfriend that when no one is looking.

Tyler pulled the hood up again. His clothes were no different from what he always wore. Black ripped jeans, a huge black hoodie, and... something had changed that day.

— I'm not going to ask about the paint stain, or what wall you painted on the way here, but do I really see your badge? — Chris stared at the rainbow-colored iron circle attached to the left side of Tyler's chest.

— Exactly one year, three hundred and sixty five days, eight thousand seven hundred and sixty-six hours, five million two hundred and fifty-six thousand minutes ago, I first realized that I was in love with you, — Tyler said calmly.

Christopher choked and blushed. No, no, no, no. Damn, why is he so bad with emotions?

— I'm sorry, I… — Specter whispered, and suddenly felt a warm hand on his cheek.

Tyler looked at him, not affectionately, not solicitously, just calmly.

— It's all right. I know we'll be working on your emotional range, — he said.

— God, — Chris suddenly smiled, — How do you do that? How can you so easily talk about your feelings and understand them, but absolutely not be able to communicate with people? — he abruptly hoisted the thin Tyler onto his shoulder, running ahead of him down the road.

At first there were attempts to resist and shouts that they would be seen, but then the guy just hung on Chris ' back.

— You took my lollipop, by the way, — he mumbled.

— Is that the only thing that bothers you? Christopher laughed.

— No, the fact that you laugh for some reason means that you experience joy, happiness, euphoria, fun or…

The schoolhouse loomed up ahead, and Chris lowered his boyfriend to the ground.

— Here, just shut up, highactivity sociopath, — he said, handing Tyler a lollipop he'd taken from his backpack. Yes, he always had such a supply. It was the most important thing in his things. What Chris checked every day before he left for school. Ever since he had the pocket money. That is, from the age of nine.

Tyler's face lit up with a childlike smile, and he took the candy, opened it, put it in his mouth, and said through it:

— You can't blame my love of Sherlock.

— I'm not blameing.

Tyler's entire room was covered with posters, quote sheets, DVD boxes taped to tape, and other decorations. By the way, the love of watching movies on DVD was instilled in Tyler by Chris ' father.

Christopher never disapproved of posters and things like that, no. Conversely. He thought it was extremely cute. In his room, despite the fact that he had both favorite movies and favorite bands, there was not a single poster. Somehow, he had never been attracted to such a way of designing a room.

A couple in love walked towards the school, holding hands. Tyler, who was always more open with Chris, chatted about how he'd tried to curl his hair again over the weekend, which he did often, and he liked it. Chris, always a sociable bully-athlete in front of everyone and a little modest, relaxed and allowing himself to revel in his mind, not strength, and the mind of the person he talks to, in front of Tyler, listened carefully to his boyfriend, once saying that he wanted to make Tyler's curls himself one day.

Closer to the school, they uncoupled their hands. At school, they are just childhood best friends, close brothers. There may be rumors that will quickly reach the teachers, and from them to the parents. Both Chris and Tyler agreed to hide it from the families at all costs. They didn't know what the reaction and consequences would be, so the longer their relationship was kept secret, the better.

— I have literature, — Tyler said, pulling his hood up again and searching for something in his backpack.

— Math, — Chris said.

— Here. I drew it yesterday. Will you watch it? Tyler waved his hand, closed his backpack, and walked away, putting in his headphones.

Christopher hated painting, drawing, and galleries. But there was one exception. The exception who bore the name was Tyler Harvey Ross. His boyfriend was an incredible artist, he drew a lot of different sketches, gradually a whole pile formed in his desk drawer. These drawings were never shown to anyone other than Chris. Moreover, Specter suspected that even he did not know all of Tyler's works.

— Chris! — a voice called out.

Christopher turned.

— Let's go to class, buddy — said the guy who flew up.

— Where are you going in such a hurry, Jim? Christopher chuckled.

Jim was one of the guys on the football team.

Jim ruffled Chris ' red hair.

— Come on.

They entered the classroom,where there were already quite a few people. Christopher walked past a girl who was eating grapes and brazenly stole one of the berries.

—Thank you, — he chuckled.

The girl said nothing. Everyone is used to it. Chris Specter is a real badass.

The teacher appeared and the bell rang.

When everyone had calmed down, and the rowdy teammates and friends were deep in math, a topic that he and Tyler had gone through with Uncle Mike a year ago, Chris pulled out a drawing, unfolding it.

It was their portrait. Him and Tyler. Just a sketch, not even painted, but Christopher just couldn't look away. The two of them were standing on the pavement of New York City, high-rise buildings behind them, and a car was driving in the foreground. Chris was hanging up the Topha Coffee sign on the stairs. The building he hung it on says "Open," and there are all kinds of cakes and other desserts in the windows. Inside, there are a couple of tables and a counter. On the sides of the picture are depicted tree branches with birds. Tylee himself was standing a little apart from his boyfriend, his index finger outstretched, apparently instructing him on how to hang up the sign. Tyler's self-portrait was perfect. It was the coal-black hair with the little curls, the ice-blue eyes (the eyes of both of them were the only color spots in the drawing), the thick eyebrows, the lean body hidden under a large apron that Chris found charming, wide nose and sharp cheekbones.

Christopher seemed to be busy with the sign, and Tyler was busy with putting it up, but their eyes were only on each other. And there was life in those eyes, real life. Frozen, yes. But it's real. Perhaps such a picture was their dream. Chris wanted to move to New York, and Tyler wanted to open his own cozy little coffee shop with his paintings hanging on the walls.

A couple of times Specter asked his boyfriend if his genius mind would not be bored in such a routine. Tiley just smiled and shook his head. Then Chris realized that the teenager himself did not know. He wants a simple quiet happiness, but at the same time not to lose his mind and genius. He's afraid of society, shuns it, finds it boring and disturbing, but he wants to see people smile when they drink his freshly made coffee or try a piece of that apple pie that Edith Ross, Tyler's great-grandmother, then Uncle Mike, and now Tyler himself, baked. He rushes around, not knowing where to put himself and what to do.

Maybe they should just finish school first and enjoy their youth. And then… Then they will definitely come up with how it will be. They will tell their parents about their relationship, go to university, and who knows what will happen next. We'll see. That was Chris ' opinion.

The bell rang in the hallway, dismissing all the students for recess. Christopher carefully folded the drawing and put it in his pocket. They'll meet at dinner, they always do. And this day will be no exception.

That's what Christopher thought as he walked out of the math room with his friends in his arms. But perhaps this day will be something that will soon change their entire lives and views on her, their family and each other.

#marvey #harvey x mike #darvey #suits usa #mike ross #harvey #donna paulsen #rachel zane

[marriael]

Be my Latibule? (Changbin x Reader)

@skzrequests​

Request: My pace 24 w changbin? uwu im a sucker for the idea of tattooist bin lmao I so vibed with this request, I love thinking about tattoist bin

Word count: 3717

a/n: part of the reason this took so long is I had to restart it twice :(

You walk into work at Insomnia Coffee Shop and your co-worker, Sohee, greets you.

“Anyone fun yet?” You ask. She's usually in when the store opens and often gets the most interesting customers.

“Not today. But yesterday a cute guy came in and ordered 3 americanos. Turns out it was for him and 2 friends. I tried to give them for free cause he looked half dead but he wouldn't let me. Who even does that?“

While she was talking you had slipped on the ugly orange apron and scowl when you noticed someone double knotted and didn't untie the strings.

You shake your head, “probably a college student pulling an all-nighter. What college student turns down free anything? Ugh, I wish some cute barista offered me free coffee, just, ever.”

Sohee turns and passes the drink over the counter. “For Jeno!”

A cute guy comes up to grab and winks at her before he turns to the door. Your jaw drops a little and you slap her shoulder.

“Is he a regular?” You ask.

“Nope. Said he got a recommendation from a friend and went out of his way to come. Weird day to do it though.”

You hum as the next customer comes in and you get thoroughly distracted. It isn’t until he comes up to the counter and speaks that you stop staring blankly.

“1 latte, 1 americano,” his voice is low and rough and he’s a little bit intimidating honestly. He’s got a small bit of a tattoo poking out one of the sleeves and you try and look at it before you have to turn around.

“Is that a tattoo?” You ask him when you turn around.

He rolls the short sleeve up to his shoulder to expose the full tattoo and you stare at the simple beauty of the moon and stars.

“Woah, that’s cool!” Sohee must’ve seen him just in her peripheral… or she was staring like you. You nod emphatically in agreement.

He blushes a little and says “thanks. Couldn’t reach this part of my arm or else I would’ve done it myself, but I still drew it.”

“Do you work at a tattoo parlour then?”

“Yeah, I do a lot of the designs for our place,”

You gasp, “can I come look at them? Please?” You pout trying to convince him to accept your strange request. You just felt something pulling you towards these drawings and the man who made them.

He looks at you for a moment then says, “yeah, let me give you the address. When you come in just ask for Changbin.”

He pulls out a random business card, not his unfortunately, and writes down the address. He slides it over and covers his smile with a sip.

You turn back to the coffee machines as he walks out the door but Mina stops you.

“Changbin huh? He was pretty cute,” she smirks.

“Hush your mouth and get back to work, brat.”

“Nuh-uh! I get to leave now but if, no no not if when, you meet him we're talking about this later.”

The next day was Tuesday and, thankfully, it was mostly empty of things for you. So you pull out the piece of paper Changbin gave you and looked up the address.

It was just a couple blocks down from the coffee shop and you head out. The building is small and squished right between a bakery and a florist, basically some cheesy romance just waiting to happen.

You walked in and looked around. There were corkboards on either sidewall and they were filled with drawings pinned to them. The bottoms of them fluttered a little at the draft you brought with you.

When you looked at him the man behind the counter raised an eyebrow at you. Ah, so it was very obvious you wouldn't be in here often.

You let out a little nervous laugh, “hi, Changbin told me to come see him here?”

The man raised both eyebrows at that. You fiddled as he looked you over again then laughed a little. “Changbin!” He suddenly yelled.

From one of the closed side rooms comes a muffled voice “go away Chan, I’m busy!”

The man at the desk, Chan, turns back to you “sorry, he’s always like this. He’s probably just sketching a custom.”

“Oh, I can come back later if he’s busy.”

Chan doesn’t answer you and instead yells at Changbin again “I know you’re not actually busy. Your partner is here to see you!”

“Hey!” You protest but Chan just grins at you as you hear the door open.

“Chan what the hell are you-” Changbin cuts himself off and gently smiles when he sees you “hey, didn’t think you were actually gonna come.”

You smile back at him. He looks much softer when he’s smiling and you were briefly caught off guard.

“Tell me again about how you’re not dating or at least interested, “ Chan’s eyes flick between the shy but wide smiles on yours and Changbin’s faces.

Changbin rolls his eyes but inclines his head towards the door he was behind and you follow behind him. He closes the door most of the way behind you and then moves to sit at the desk in the far corner. There are more drawings in here and you assume all of them are his. It’s a wide variety of subjects, from small sketches of animals and plants to large and detailed fantasy creatures.

“Sorry about Chan, he’s always delighted in teasing anyone who’s younger than him,” Changbin shakes his head, probably at Chan even though he can’t see or hear in the room.

“Have you two known each other a long time then?” You ask and tilt your head a little.

“Ah, yeah,” Changbin looks at you again, “most of us met in high school and a couple joined right at the start of college. College was really when our whole group started getting close, too.”

“Sounds nice,” you were paying attention to him, promise, but with such wonderful drawings surrounding you, you really couldn’t help it if your attention drifted a bit.

Changbin notices and raises an eyebrow slightly, “interested in getting one?”

“What? Oh, no no, not right now at least. They’re just… really, really good.”

Changbin immediately looks down and smiles, and you could swear he was blushing a bit but when he looks back up it's gone.

“There’s a couple hidden ones in here that aren’t mine. Think you can spot ‘em?” He challenges.

You immediately head up to one of the boards and stand about 5 centimetres away. You push a couple of them up and out of the way, making sure to be careful. There really is all sorts of stuff, Changbin must be pretty busy. A rushing river done with such detail you can almost see it moving. Swirls that when you look just right suddenly snap into focus to make an abstract, soaring bird. Nature moulded with a person or item in such a seamless way that there is not a difference between them, they are simply one continuous sight.

You’re looking for hidden drawings, not ogling at Changbin’s skills. Right. When you move one more there is a small piece of paper. There is… something on it. Either Changbin drew this when he was about 5 years old or it was someone else.

“Hey, I found one. I don’t even know what this is though, it looks like a squiggle.”

Changbin laughs, “hold on.”

He comes and looks right over your shoulder. You can feel his hot breath on your ear and feel his chest move when he laughs at the drawing again. You quickly reign in the slight disappointment when he moves away.

“Yeah, that’s the thing Chan keeps trying to make our mascot. Felix and I won’t let him so until one of us breaks it’s two against one,” he shrugs and it doesn’t look like he feels bad at all.

“Do all your friends have a drawing stashed in here somewhere?”

“Well, I’ve seen at least 16 drawings put in here so yes they all have one. Some of them and Felix, Jisung’s special twin, has hidden at least 4. There’s probably more that he did when I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Ugh, how many friends do you even have. If it’s more than, like, 6 I might be genuinely angry.”

Changbin practically cackles, “well then get ready to be absolutely furious. There’s 9 of us, including myself and everyone I’ve already mentioned.”

“That’s not even fair! How have you all been friends for so long without someone murdering someone else.”

“Oh, believe me. Seungmin’s wanted to. Unfortunately, his best friends are some of our greatest problem children. Though sometimes I'm pretty sure he'll murder them first.”

“Any other possible murderers I should worry about seeing?” You flip a couple more pictures up, still passively looking for any other weird drawings.  

“Hm, Minho's murderous intentions are usually directed at Jisung. He'd do it for his cats too, though. He definitely fits in well.”

“Were there concerns about him not fitting in?”

“Yeah 'cause, he was the last one to join us, but he’s just as chaotic if not more. For Chan’s graduation night he insisted on using some mini firework things he found. Nearly lit himself and Jisung on fire with the very first one.”

Something clicks in your brain. You’ve heard this story before, from one of your random classmates. He was… interesting, to put it politely.

“Are you talking about Lee Minho? The smug bastard who tried to get everyone to call him Lee Know for like 5 months? And Han Jisung, my co-worker kind of, that I’m pretty sure hates me for some reason?”

“Wait, you know them? And why do you think Jisung hates you?”

“Yeah, Minho was my weird classmate. I’m like 90% sure Jisung hates me because he barely looks at me and gives one-word answers to all of my questions. I don’t really see him other than during shift switches but still!”

“I think Minho actually might have mentioned you before. And Jisung is just like that around people he doesn’t know. Trust me, he actually has the capacity to be the loudest person in the room. By far.”

“Huh, I wonder how many of your friends I actually know.”

"Well, we're hanging out on Thursday. Do you want to come with and meet some more of them?”

You hum thoughtfully, thinking of any possible commitments you had made lately, “I probably can but can I bring Sohee? Just so I know someone there?”

“Do I still not count as someone you know?” He whines and pouts a little for the extra effect.

“Not enough. If you all go off on some inside joke I need someone to be confused with.”

“Actually fair, because it might happen. I’ll let you know when and where we’re going later then.”

You pull out your phone and extend it to him, when he looks at it confused you raise an eyebrow, “unless you plan to send it by bird I recommend putting your number in my phone.”

He makes a surprised noise and keeps his eyes away from you and on your phone. It has not spread to his face but under his dark hair his bright red ears peek out just enough for you to see. Even when handing it back he doesn’t look at you and you smile at his bashfulness.

“See ya soon, Bin. I work again tomorrow.”

Directions are not always your strong suit. You’d like to believe they are and that’s how you end up like this, no map and unsure of what direction you should even look in.

“You look lost,” a voice comes from behind you.

You spin around. A tall puppy-like guy is standing behind you, he looks slightly amused and you’re betting it’s at your expense.

“Yeah, do you know where M.I.A Café is?”

“Oh,” he nods, “yeah I’m going there. Let’s go.”

It’s slightly awkward, walking this distance with someone you don’t know. You search your brain with how to start a conversation with someone.

“Are you… meeting someone at the café?” You ask, slightly awkward.

“Yeah, a couple of my friends.”

“Huh, so am I. Well, actually, it’s someone else’s friends and I’m just kinda tagging along,” you shrug, realizing how awkward this will probably be.

“Good luck with that,” he says as he holds the door for you.

You enter and scan the tables for Changbin’s face. You wave and slip into the chair opposite him. On the edge of the table thankfully, hopefully Sohee can recognize the back of your head. Someone sits next to you and you get a little shock seeing who it is.

He grins at you, “hey stranger.”

The guy you walked all that way with one of Changbin’s friends!

Changbin looks between you confusedly, “you know Seungmin?”

“He helped me get here. I might have gotten a little lost.”

“A little, ok. You had no idea where you were,” Seungmin snarks.

“Maybe so!”

“Well good to know you get along with another one of my friends already,” Changbin interjects.

Someone comes up and sits beside Changbin.

“Hey, I’m Hyunjin,” he greets you simply.

You give him a little wave. You don’t like judging people so fast but he’s a little intimidating.

You hear a little scrape of a chair beside and Sohee pops down at the end of the table.

“Sohee, you made it!”

“Yeah, no thanks to you,” she sticks out her tongue at you.

“I’ve seen you somewhere before,” Hyunjin speaks up and you whip your head towards him.

Sohee looks at him and squints for a moment. They start looking at each other for so long that you think they’re actually just having a staring contest. You think you recognize someone walking outside but when you actually look out the window you have no idea who any of them are. It’s still a nice day out, maybe you can go out somewhere after this.

“Oh! You’re the guy I thought was going to drink 3 americanos the other day!”

“Sohee~” you sing.

“What?” She looks at you, annoyed.

“You forgot an important detail that you told me about him.”

She looks genuinely confused for a moment before catching on and shaking her head, “shut up, nope nope nope.”

“You think he’s cute!” You cackle.

You, Changbin, and Seungmin make fun of Sohee and Hyunjin for a little while. It backfires when Sohee manages to sneakily turn the attention on you, well you and Changbin. Together, you being together.

“Yeah, and you stared at him for so long when he came in!” Sohee says.

“Sohee, kindly shut your mouth,” you reply, smiling the most pained and fake smile ever.

“Ok, please don’t pour your drink on me, I’m afraid. Also we work together so I’m coming for you.”

You just roll your eyes at her, you didn’t actually scare her and you both know that. She just likes to be some sort of annoying sister to you.

Hyunjin clears his throat and when you look at him his eyes are bright. He smiles sneakily and says, “you should hear about the time Changbin actually poured his drink on someone.”

“Hyunjin that was an accident and you know it!” Changbin exclaims, attempting to shoulder check a giggling Hyunjin.

You breeze into Blueprint Tattoos and Chan looks up in surprise.

“Hey there, didn’t know you were coming in today.”

You let out a single, unnatural ‘ha’, “I didn’t know either but uh, here I am.”

“Well, Changbin’s in his usual spot. I don’t think he has anything today.”

“Thanks,” you nod stiffly.

Looking around at the cork boards you can see some of them definitely done in Changbin’s style and a handful more you suspect would be his. You breathe out heavily and slouch a little before straightening and walking towards where Changbin should be, full of false confidence.

“Are you ok?” Chan asks and when you look over his eyebrows are furrowed and his forehead pinched down a little. The concern from someone you barely know is a little unusual but the warmth you get from it is welcoming.

“Yeah, just a little nervous you know?” You force a small laugh but you know it’s not convincing.

“Oh!” Chan exclaims, “well if this is what I think it is then good luck.”

Chan’s face is completely relaxed and you feel a little bit bad for making him worry so much. You’re not entirely sure what he thinks you’re doing but you smile at his kindness as you open Changbin’s door.

He has headphones in and doesn’t hear when you close the door behind you. You stand there for a minute, back against the door, just looking at him. Most people move to what they’re listening to but the only thing moving is his hand and it glides across the page. You have no idea what he’s doing but you just hope he’ll show it to you when he’s done.

You take a big breath in and out before approaching him. Tapping his shoulder gently you hope not to cause him to jerk his arm and ruin a line or anything. He stops completely and pulls his headphones out. He looks a little annoyed but then he looks up to see you and his face eases.

“Hi! I didn’t know you were coming today. Anything specific on the brain or did you just want to hang out with Best Friend Binnie?” He gives you an exaggerated and comical wink.

“Give me a tattoo?” You say, surprisingly calm for how jittery you actually feel.

“Wait, what? Are you sure? Like really sure?”

You roll your eyes like a stereotypical teenager would at their parents, that is to say, so far back it felt like they would disappear into your head, “no, Changbin, I’m not sure. I’ve really only been thinking about it basically since the first time I walked into this room.”

“That was only a week ago,” Changbin deadpans.

“Yeah, and?”

Changbin shakes his head, “I’m not going to give you a tattoo you’ll regret.”

You look around at the drawings. Feeling like that one action gave this decision away as way more spontaneous than it had originally seemed. Yes, you had been thinking about getting one and getting Changbin to do it for you but doing it today specifically was a complete impulse.

“I’m not going to regret it! Bin, please,” you pout at him.

Changbin tilts his head to look at the ceiling as if it will give him some guidance.

“What do you want?”

You clap your hands excitedly and then hesitate again.

“Well, I know I want a flower but… I want you to choose which one. I want it to be a flower with a good meaning behind it.”

Changbin nods and stands there considering your request. You take the time to look around his office again. Staring at all the intricate drawings on the walls you feel a bit dorky choosing to get a simple flower. Your eyes briefly catch on two stylized drawings of the word SpearB. One of them has a cute little ‘Binnie~’ under it and the other has a messy ‘Chanathan’ in English and Korean.

There are a couple of flowers scattered throughout the room so you’re a bit surprised when you hear Changbin ripping a page out of his sketchbook. His back is to you so you can’t see him cutting it down to a size to la and trace on your body. You can hear the gentle snips of scissors as you distract yourself with rows of flowers connected and individual petals with such detail you could believe them being real.

You watch as he gently traces the pattern onto your skin. You don’t recognize the flower right away but it looks delicate and beautiful. You think you catch him glancing up at you a few times but you’re pretty sure the clock is behind you and he’s looking at that.

You zone out almost entirely as he prepares. Well, it’s not exactly zoning out. You’d say it’s appreciation of an attractive man, your friends would say that you’re just checking him out.

Ok, so what if you are? Changbin’s shirt has no sleeves which means his arms are on full display which means that you can’t stop looking at the muscles flexing as he moves. Thankfully you’re conscious enough to look away when he turns back around.

The buzz of the gun wakes you up and Changbin is looking at you.

“All good?” He asks.

“Yeah, let’s do this.”

You watch for a moment as he starts going and the ink sinks permanently into your skin. It’s a strange thing to conceptualize, something being on your body forever. You catch a glimpse of Changbin’s concentrated face and you get completely distracted by him. If this is what he looks like everytime he gives a tattoo then you want to observe, even study, him.

His mouth is set in a firm line and eyebrows pinched slight inwards and downwards. His eyes are wide and focused and if you look closely enough you can see every slight movement of his irises following his hand around.

Neither of you say a word and you don’t dare move to try and look at the clock or your phone. Just watching and waiting in silence, but together. A shared silence is different than one had alone.

Silences by yourself can feel wrong sometimes but this kind of silence with Changbin feels so right that you almost never want it to end.

Good things often come quicker than they should and soon the buzzing stops. You can hear phantom buzzing still and suspect you will for quite a while. You lift your arm and look at it, it’s finished now but you’re still not sure what it is and certainly not what it means.

“What is it?” You ask.

“An almond blossom. It, uh, it means promise.”

“Promise, huh?” You grin and look at Changbin's pink-ish face.

You expect him to have some witty comment but instead, he just smiles goofily and breathlessly says, “yeah.”

#latibule: a hiding place #or place of safety and comfort #longest one yet once again! #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenarios #stray kids scenario #stray kids #changbin fluff #changbin imagine #changbin scenarios #changbin scenario #changbin #binnie baby #my writing #seo changbin #the set up for going to the tattoo parlor is so garbage #but i can't write this anymore #so this is what ya get #sorry

[elsanna-shenanigans]

April Contest Submission #22: Lake Town Sunrise

Words: ca. 3,800 Setting: modern Lemon: no CW: loneliness, moving, high schoolers, mild angst, language

If anyone had asked Anna what she felt about moving halfway across the country to a tiny place called Lake Town during the fourth month of her senior year, well — she would have lied and said she didn’t mind at all. But no one had, so she didn’t have to lie to anyone. Not even herself. And she hated the move.

Anna had no choice in the matter but the seventeen year-old felt like she had no right to complain to her beloved grandfather, who had sacrificed his entire retirement life to raise her from an infant. If he wanted to move, there should be nothing holding him back. But Anna had to admit she wished he’d waited a few more months. Just a few more months and Anna would graduate and be out of his hair. On her own.

Until then, Anna was adjusting to an entirely new life in a new place with new people and new schoolwork. The piles of catch-up homework were her worst nightmare. She didn’t like to have bad grades so she was devoting all of her energy to her classes in an effort not to disappoint herself. As a result, she hadn’t had the time or energy to make a single friend from November to March, and as a social person, the loss of friendship was starting to drive her crazy. Nobody back home even returned her texts anymore; they’d completely moved on and Anna was stuck by herself in a town with only a lake she had yet to even visit, just trying to keep her head above water.

Just because she hadn’t made any friends, however, didn’t mean she hadn’t picked out a couple people from her classes she’d love to be friends with. One girl stood out to her in particular. She was in Anna’s writing class and they often paired up when the teacher required it. Her name was Elsa and she had the prettiest long white-blonde hair Anna had ever seen; usually worn in a braid or a ponytail. Every once in a while she let it loose in gentle waves; those were Anna’s favorite days.

Elsa was a quiet student, never talking with anyone around her. Anna noticed she usually had a sketchbook open and a pencil rhythmically scratching away. She’d give anything to know what Elsa was always drawing, but she couldn’t stare too long or the blonde would eventually glance up and catch her eye, causing them both to look away quickly, blushing.

Yesterday Elsa hadn’t come to school and Anna had found herself rather disappointed. She always looked forward to English class but without the other girl to pay attention to, Anna had stared at the clock, willing the hands to move faster. Was Elsa the only reason she enjoyed this class? They had barely had a complete conversation beyond relevant English topics. Still, Anna found herself begging the fates to let her see that sketchbook when she walked through the door to room 37b today.

A sigh of relief escaped her lungs when Anna rounded the corner and saw Elsa at the desk beside hers, legs crossed, focused entirely on the pencil meeting her paper. Anna approached; Elsa looked up and smiled when she saw who was there.

“Hi, Anna!”

“Hey,” she smiled back. “I missed you yesterday.”

“Oh yeah,” blonde eyebrows softened, “My grandma was a bit under the weather so I had to stay home and take care of her.”

“You live with your grandma?” Anna asked, pleasantly surprised.

“Yeah, it’s just the two of us.”

“Me too,” Anna encouraged, “but with my grandfather.”

“Oh wow! I don’t think I’ve met anyone else here in the same boat.” Elsa closed her sketchbook as Anna took a seat.

“It’s definitely a unique experience,” Anna laughed. She watched the fluorescent lights glimmer in Elsa’s eyes when she nodded in response.

Anna’s heart raced quietly while she pulled out her English notebook and folder. There were still a few minutes left before class began. Maybe she could think of something else to say before the chance was gone. But it was Elsa who took another stab at conversation first.

“What are you doing for spring break?” Elsa asked.

“Oh!” Anna smiled, excited. “Ever since moving here in the winter I’ve been drowning in either snow or catch-up homework, so I’m finally gonna take a break in the nice weather and see what this famous lake is all about! I’ve never even gotten…” she trailed off at the sight of Elsa’s grimace. “What?”

“Sorry,” Elsa said, “it’s just - you don’t want to be anywhere near the lake during spring break.”

“I mean I know it’s gonna be crowded—”

“You don’t understand. That lake is the only interesting thing in a 200 mile radius. Everybody in the entire state who can’t afford a real vacation will be swarming the town - especially the lake. All fucking week.”

“Oh.” Anna sighed, crestfallen. She had hoped to spend some time with her new classmates at the lake; they were still strangers to her after all this time. She had thought maybe she’d even make a friend there. But not now. “Wait, where does everybody go then? If the whole town gets taken over?”

“Well, some have to stick around to run the shops and everything, but most everybody scatters off to vacations of their own.” Elsa explained.

“And what about you?”

“My grandma doesn’t go anywhere. I’ll be around.”

Class started abruptly and the conversation was cut off. Anna didn’t hear a word of the lecture, as her thoughts swirled around her head. Thoughts of the forbidden lake, of people who got to experience “real” vacations, but mostly of Elsa. Elsa had talked to her for so long today - and seemed to enjoy it! Anna felt light and airy, like something was trying to lift her heart right out of her chest. Was this what it felt like, to be on the verge of friendship? Anna hadn’t even experienced these butterflies the entire time she dated Kristoff back home.

Wait. Did she have feeling-feelings for Elsa? Was that - was that allowed? Would Elsa ever —

The bell rang.

Everybody scrambled to pack their backpacks up, except for Elsa and Anna. Elsa jotted something down on a corner of a page in her sketchbook, then tore it out as Anna watched.

“Here,” Elsa held out the ripped corner. “That’s my address. Meet me there after school today when break starts. I wanna show you something.”

Anna took the paper and watched dumbfounded as Elsa left the classroom. Shaking her head out, she looked at the address. It was a five minute walk from her house.

When she flipped the piece of paper over in her hand, the other side (probably unintentionally) had part of a sketch. It was a person, cut off just below the shoulders. Anna stared in disbelief at her own freckled face smiling up at herself in graphite.

***********************************

Anna ran all the way home, making her 12 minute walk in 8 minutes. She found her grandpa sitting in his chair, working on a puzzle. Huffing and puffing from exertion, Anna made her way through the living room to the hallway, saying, “Hey, Gramps,” as she passed.

“In a hurry, child?” the old man replied, glancing up briefly from his puzzle.

“I made a friend, I’ll explain in a minute!” Anna called out as she jogged farther into the house.

She reached her room and threw her backpack to the ground before stripping off her clothes and staring at her closet, hoping something would jump out at her. Her chest heaved as the cool air helped dry the clammy skin of her torso. What was she supposed to wear to Elsa’s house for the first time, where she was going to quote-unquote ‘show her something?’ Was it something casual, something fancy? After a moment she settled on a cute tie dye t-shirt and black jeans. It was spring break after all, she should be able to wear something comfortable.

Anna glanced at her signature twin braids in the mirror. She pulled the hair ties out and ran her fingers through the locks, letting it fall apart into structured waves. Yep, that’s cute! she thought.

On her way back out through the house, Anna told her grandfather she was going to a new friend’s house, and that he should order a pizza for dinner. He had no complaints, but reminded her to be home by 10. Soon, Anna was out the door, headed in the direction of Elsa’s house.

This time, she walked deliberately slowly. Anna didn’t want to be out of breath when she got to Elsa’s house, nor did she want to get there earlier than Elsa might expect. Anna had rushed herself rather hard ever since that final bell rang, but now as she passed houses she had never seen and heard birds enjoying the spring afternoon, she had a few moments to think about what had happened earlier. Precisely: the conversation, the realization, and the invitation.

Just yesterday she was silently disappointed that Elsa was missing from class, and now they’d had a nice interaction, Anna thought she might have a crush on her, and Elsa invited her over to her house! It was all so sudden and exciting. Confusing, but exciting.

Do I really like her? Anna wondered. Well, comparing her feelings to what she used to feel around Kristoff was pretty telling. She thought Kristoff was cute and nice, and she liked how it made her feel when he told her how much he liked her. But maybe that wasn’t what love feels like. Maybe it’s more like what Elsa makes her feel… comfort, acceptance, longing, excitement. Not to mention how attractive she was, with her gorgeous hair and perfect face and shining blue eyes, bluer than anything Anna had ever seen…

Fuck.

Anna might have a little bit of a crush on Elsa. In fact, it might be huge.

But could Elsa ever feel the same way? They were both girls, so Anna felt it was unlikely Elsa had ever had a similar thought toward Anna. However, Anna felt the piece of paper in her pocket. The one with the drawing on the back. Why did Elsa draw her? Was this the only one and it happened to be on the exact page and corner she tore out? Or did she sketch Anna a lot?… Is that why sometimes when Anna was watching her draw, Elsa would glance up directly at her — because Anna was actually her subject?

She sighed. There was so much to think about all of a sudden. She almost wanted to go back to obsessing over her homework and ignoring everybody. But then she saw a mailbox with Elsa’s address and her heart rate took off. That was a normal reaction, right? Totally, for sure.

Anna wiped her clammy palms off on her jeans and consciously corrected her posture as she approached Elsa’s house. It was painted a nice sky blue, with navy shutters. There was an old car in the driveway, which disappeared past the other side of the building. In the front yard was a big pine tree looming over the house, at least three times as tall. As she approached, Anna noticed Elsa sitting at the base of the pine tree, under its canopy created by trimming the lowest branches. She waved from her shady spot when she noticed Anna.

“Hey!” Elsa called out. “You came!”

Anna jogged the last few steps and ducked under the branches to join Elsa’s shady dwelling. “Of course I came!” She grinned widely and plopped down across from the blonde, folding her legs into a criss-cross style. “This tree is amazing,” she remarked, looking up through its branches, barely able to see the bright sky filtering through them.

“Thanks,” Elsa patted the trunk she was leaning her back against, “she’s a good one. Great for quiet afternoons. But this isn’t what I wanted to show you.” She stood up, grabbing her sketchbook and brushing off her pants. “Follow me?”

We made our way across the lawn, past the car, and followed the driveway around the side of Elsa’s house. The drive stretched back past half of the small backyard, all the way to a strangely tall garage. It was wide enough for one car but was more like two-stories tall. Maybe a past owner had it built especially for a big vehicle or boat.

We stopped at the regular service door beside the big garage door and Elsa grabbed the handle, her fingers lightly trembling as they reached out. She was nervous to show Anna whatever was inside. Anna was racking her brain trying to guess what it could be. A boat for the lake they can’t go to? A weirdly tall truck? A collection of four wheelers? A quiet place perfect to trick Anna into a serial killer’s lair? No, of course not that one, jeez.

The door opened, the lights flicked on.

Anna’s jaw dropped.

She was wrong about everything.

Inside the garage, the entire space was transformed into a secret hideout of some kind. It like walking into a crazy treehouse but within the walls of a garage. There was a structure made out of lumber, expertly crafted together to form multiple separate areas as well as an elaborate winding staircase/ramp combo that wrapped around the walls, leading up to a partial upper level. All of the woodwork was bright blue with handpainted details which gave it all a realistic ice effect. Where the ceiling was visible there were tinted skylights letting in natural light, bathing everything in a blue glow.

To furnish the hangout, Elsa had a desk she clearly used for homework and art, a futon, multiple bean bag chairs, and who knows what else on the upper level. Anna reached out and laid a hand on Elsa’s arm. “This…” she shook her head out in disbelief. “This is not what I was expecting you to show me - but it’s incredible!”

“Thank you,” Elsa blushed slightly as she dipped her head down in gratitude.

“How did you do this? You made it all yourself?” Anna asked, touching the glossy surface of the painted wood beam closest to her.

Elsa scratched her neck, “Well, when I was little I always dreamed of having an ice palace, a place to get away from my daily life. I love my grandmother but sometimes I just needed to be a kid. As soon as we learned shop in middle school, I knew what I had to do. I asked permission to upgrade the garage and beyond that, my grandma doesn’t know or care what I do out here. She’s never seen it.” Elsa laughed. “So I’ve just been creating this space for myself over the years. I finally finished it last year with the paint job and everything. Oh, and I made the skylights myself by cutting holes through the roof and installing windows, weatherproofing the cracks. That was the hardest part of the whole garage.”

Anna smiled in disbelief. This quiet girl had a whole universe of creativity inside her head, and when the subject was something she was passionate about, she wasn’t quiet at all! Anna had never really been friends with an introvert, and apparently she had been missing out big time.

“You are…. so cool,” Anna finally said. “This is amazing!” She spun around, walking farther into the ice palace, looking up as the homemade skylights twisted in circles. After a minute, she got too dizzy and fell, landing on a beanbag with a thwump.

Elsa laughed and joined her on the nearest beanbag. “You really think so?”

“Of course!” Anna said.

“You’re the only person who I’ve ever invited here. The only one who’s ever seen it.”

“Wait, what?” Anna’s thoughts halted. “How is that possible?”

Elsa rubbed her arm anxiously, “Well, I… I don’t really have many friends. Or any friends, really. This place is my safe space, where I can get away from the world and truly be myself. Here I can read and create and relax, and nobody is here to judge me. I’ve never minded being alone.”

“So,” Anna tilted her head, trying not to come off as rude. “Then why did you invite me?”

Elsa’s cheeks bloomed with pink. “You’re the first person I’ve ever wanted to invite.”

Anna’s expression softened as Elsa continued, “I feel safe around you. Even though we didn’t talk much before today, I’ve wanted to get to know you ever since you first walked into my English class.”

Anna’s heart soared. “I’ve felt the same way about you. I lost all my friends when I moved… and as an extrovert, I struggled with that a lot. But I had so much homework to catch up on, I couldn’t find the time to reach out to anyone here. So instead I cut myself off from making friends and buried myself in class work. But the whole time I’ve lived here, I couldn’t help but feel drawn to you. I wished and wished and wished that you would be my friend, but it felt like I waited too long and I’d be stuck alone for the rest of high school.”

Elsa held her hand out for Anna to take. It felt so smooth against Anna’s palm, she never would’ve believed the hard work these hands had been through if she didn’t see it with her own eyes.

“Well I think it’s safe to say we’re friends now,” Elsa said.

“Absolutely,” Anna agreed. “Good luck getting rid of me at this point!”

*******************************

A couple of hours passed before Anna even checked the time. “I should probably be getting home,” she sighed. “Could we do this again tomorrow?”

Elsa nodded enthusiastically. “I’d like that. And actually, I was wrong before, about the lake. Everybody else’s spring break doesn’t start until Monday so the droves won’t be hitting town until tomorrow night. The lake would be pretty deserted if we got there really early.”

“Yes!” Anna made a fist.

“I mean like sunrise-early.”

“Yikes. Okay. No problem!” Anna wasn’t a morning person, especially when she had the choice to sleep in, but this was a great exception.

A sunrise on the lake with her new favorite person? Sounded like a dream come true!

Anna didn’t even dream that night. She woke a minute before her 3:30 alarm and sprang out of bed. Flipping on lamps here and there, she went to the kitchen to prepare some food. She made an egg scramble which her grandpa could reheat when he woke up, and then she made more sandwiches than she’d ever made at one time, leaving two in the fridge for his lunch, and taking the rest with her to share with Elsa later.

When her lunch pack was filled with ice and sandwiches, Anna went back to her room to write a note for her grandpa and change into her swimsuit. She didn’t know if there would be any getting in the water at this lake on an early spring morning, but she was ready just in case. Then she put a light green t-shirt on over the swimwear, along with dark blue jogging pants and a black and white tie dye hoodie. She probably clashed but Anna preferred to wear lots of different colors, not caring if they went well together.

A bit of a long walk later, and Anna arrived at the street corner Elsa told her about. It was right at the lake. Anna set her lunch bag on the pavement and leaned against the street lamp pole. She felt in her pocket for that ripped piece of sketchbook paper, gently running her fingers over its edges. Before long, Elsa approached in the dim lamp light.

“Good morning,” Elsa said in a quiet voice. The way it sounded so …intimate made Anna’s stomach butterflies go for a loop.

“Morning, Elsa.” Anna smiled, picking up her bag. Elsa led the way toward the lake where they found an empty pier. They walked all the way to the end and sat on the edge, dangling their legs over the dark lake. It was about a ten foot drop beneath their feet to the surface of the water, where it gently rippled just for them.

They sat quietly in the darkness until the faintest tinge of light started appearing along the horizon. It was a gentle pale blue, barely discernible from the rest of the sky at first. Slowly, it gained more light, moment by moment. Soon the light blue was joined by pale yellow, then peach. When a brilliant pink appeared on wispy clouds, Anna couldn’t help but feel it was a metaphor for how quickly and beautifully her friendship with Elsa had bloomed.

Her feelings for Elsa developed like a brightening dawn.

It was light enough now to see each other if either girl dared to turn. Anna felt for the paper in her pocket and slowly pulled it out.

“Elsa?”

“Hmm?” Elsa answered, still staring at the pink clouds, now turning orange.

“Do you draw everyone in class?”

“What do you mean?” Elsa asked.

“When you’re sketching in your notebook, do you draw our classmates? Or anyone in particular?” Anna’s heart was beating so loud she was sure Elsa could hear it.

“Oh. Um,” Elsa hesitated. “I don’t draw a lot of different people. Only the ones who mean something to me.” She glanced sideways at Anna. “Why?”

“This piece of paper you wrote your address on…” Anna held it in her hand. Elsa’s head turned to look. “I couldn’t help but notice this drawing on the back. You probably didn’t mean—”

Elsa swiftly took the paper from Anna’s fingertips and gasped when she saw the sketch. “Anna, I can explain.”

“Hey, don’t worry,” Anna placed a calming hand on Elsa’s. “You don’t have to explain anything.”

“I don’t?” Elsa asked, her face visibly red even in the low light.

“No.” Anna said. “I was just making sure I understood how you felt, before…” she trailed off.

“Before?”

Anna reached up and touched Elsa’s chin with her thumb and first finger. She gently tilted Elsa’s head as her eyes asked an important question. Elsa’s breath shook as she nodded slightly. Anna leaned in sweetly, but with purpose, as she let her lips softly brush against Elsa’s. They both let out a nervous breath before closing in again. This time, Anna could really feel the connection between their lips. Anna’s eyes fluttered closed.

She no longer needed to see the picture perfect sunrise, for the colors bursting in her heart and behind her eyelids were even more beautiful.

#elsanna #submission #April 2021 contest #prompt: break

[icarusbuck]

31. I trust you

FOX! 911 | minor concussion

∞

Buck turned in a slow circle, careful not to lose his footing on the red clay tiles of Eddie's roof. A long line of string lights spread before him, doubling back on itself and looping around in a mimicry of the Santa hat sketched on a piece of paper in his hand. He consulted the drawing with some amount of skepticism and tilted his head, eyeing the distance between the peak of the roof and the gutter.

"You know," he called out to Eddie, bending at the waist to adjust one of the places where the lights were attached, "this is going to drive your energy bill through the roof." The roof clips were easy to slide around, and he straightened carefully once he was satisfied with the new placement.

"Christopher wants to win the neighborhood contest," Eddie replied, his voice impossible to place over the edge of the roof. He was busy arranging the dozen or so inflatable decorations around the yard.

"Chris does, or you do?" Buck teased, squinting once more at the drawing. The matching hat on his head sat crooked after bending over, the little ball at the end dangling in front of his face. He swatted it to the side and tugged the hat back into place.

"Please. Where do you think he gets his sense of competition?" Eddie's voice had moved again.

"What sense of competition?" Buck laughed. He shifted his weight, careful to keep as much of his rubber soles in contact with the slippery roof tiles as possible. In retrospect, it may have been worth tying himself to the chimney. From his vantage point, it was almost impossible to gauge whether the lights were shaped appropriately. At best, it just looked like he'd tossed the string lights and left them. "Hey, do you think this looks right?"

"Sure. I trust you," Eddie said flippantly. He sounded even further away, which was odd considering how small the front yard was.

"Did you even look?" Buck sighed, rolling his eyes. He turned in place and surveyed Eddie's progress on the yard. There were several sad half-inflated reindeer and extension cords snaking between them all, but no Eddie. Taking a step closer to the gutter, Buck leaned over to scope out to the far reaches of the property.

In either direction, there were only a handful of other houses that boasted any decorations at all, and none were as extravagant as what Eddie had planned. Buck frowned and turned his attention back to not falling off the roof.

"Isn't it a little early to go all in on Christmas? I mean, I respect the commitment, but Halloween was yesterday." He finally gave up waiting for Eddie's appraisal and folded up his drawing, tucking it into the back pocket of his jeans. "Eddie?"

He told himself Eddie had just gone inside, but the little spark of fear at the back of his mind ignited when he received no response. The ladder was on the other end of the roof, and worry made him careless. He didn't pay as much attention to his footing as he'd done before, and with the ladder still several feet away, he slipped.

With a clipped yelp, he went down, landing on one ass cheek on the tile. He began to slide immediately, fingernails scraping against the shaped clay, and then the roof was no longer under him. His stomach tilted during his brief period of free fall. It happened too quickly for him to even pray for a soft landing. One moment he was standing on the roof, and the next his momentum was halted by a body. The air rushed out of him when they both toppled into one of the inflatables.

"How the hell did you know I would be there?" Eddie griped from beneath him, shoving at the synthetic material pressing into his face. Buck scrambled onto his hands and knees, meeting Eddie's glare with concerned surprise. "I swear you aimed for me," he accused.

"I didn't," Buck said, getting quickly to his feet. He reached down to help pull Eddie out of the inflatable. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Eddie winced, rocking back on his heels once he'd gained his feet. He leaned away unsteadily and Buck grabbed his arm again to steady him, frowning.

"Did you hit your head?" Buck bent to get a better look at Eddie's eyes, feeling the back of his skull for a bump.

"I don't think so," Eddie said, but it sounded like a question. "Did you hit my head?"

Buck pressed his lips against a retort and shook his head. "Come on. I'm taking you to get checked out."

"Buck, I'm fine," Eddie scoffed, pulling free of Buck's grip. He stumbled immediately, and Buck was met with no resistance this time when he grabbed him again. "Whoa," Eddie groaned, pressing his palm to his forehead.

"You're definitely not fine," Buck insisted, and he marched them both over to the Jeep. Eddie climbed into the passenger seat willingly, but drew the line when Buck tried to clip the seatbelt for him. As soon as Buck was in the driver's seat, Eddie squinted at him.

"Can I borrow some sunglasses?"

Buck eyed the gray skies and glanced back as he fetched the pair from the center console.

∞

The emergency department was having a blissfully slow day, but the process of getting Eddie checked in and filling out forms and seeing one of the doctors still took them a few hours. The diagnosis was a mild concussion and the recommended course of action was to just rest, and Buck was given a list of symptoms to watch for.

Once, while they waited, Eddie turned to look at Buck.

"Is Christopher okay?" He asked with a worried frown.

Buck had to fight a smile. "Yeah, he's fine," he assured him.

He took care of arranging an overnight stay for Christopher with Abuela. While Eddie's symptoms were minor, they both knew how unpredictable concussions could be, and he didn't want the added stress of worrying about Christopher if his dad needed to be rushed back to the hospital in the middle of the night.

Night had fallen by the time Eddie was released. His disorientation and confusion fluctuated, but never grew severe enough for him to stay. Once they were safely back at Eddie's, Buck left him in the dining room and called Bobby.

"Hey Buck," Bobby greeted, backed by a chorus of voices. The voices quieted after a moment. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Buck said, keeping his voice low despite being a room away from Eddie. "Eddie needs to take a couple sick days, though. He's got a concussion."

"Is he okay?"

"He will be. But I was also wondering if I could use up some vacation to make sure he's okay. Between his concussion and Chris's needs…"

"I understand," Bobby said, picking up as Buck's words trailed off. "Take a few days, make sure he recovers."

"You got it, Captain," Buck said, smiling. He hung up and returned to the dining room, where Eddie was still seated at the table.

"I don't feel good," he mumbled. Buck took the seat next to him and awkwardly patted his hand.

"I know. I'm sorry, head injuries suck. You're supposed to avoid screens and bright lights, maybe we could listen to something?" Buck offered, though he doubted any noise at all would be pleasant. From what little he remembered of his own head injuries, any sound at all was pure misery.

"Why?” Eddie frowned, his gaze transferring from the ceiling to Buck.

"Because you have a concussion," Buck said patiently. He felt a twinge of guilt; this was definitely his fault.

"Oh," Eddie said. He frowned down at his hands and picked at his cuticles. "I'm tired," he complained after a few seconds, his face pinching almost comically. His shoulders fell inward as he leaned forward to put his forehead on the table.

"I know," Buck said again, wincing. "Come on, let's go sit on the couch. At least you'll be more comfortable there." He stood and held out his hand, but Eddie swatted clumsily at it and found his feet by himself. It was almost comical how quickly he reached out to steady himself with Buck's shoulder, and Buck simply raised an eyebrow at him.

"I can do it," Eddie assured him, his fingers patting Buck's shoulder as if that was all he'd meant to do. He drew in a steadying breath and set off for the living room, Buck hot on his heels just in case. When he reached the couch, he sagged onto it with a groan.

Buck sat beside him. A mixture of guilt and worry had him watching Eddie like a hawk, but it was shortlived. Eddie smacked the back of his knuckles against Buck's arm.

"Stop it," he grumbled, shifting about on the couch. "You're so tense."

"Forgive me for worrying about you," Buck said dryly, rolling his eyes.

"Now you know how it feels," Eddie muttered under his breath.

"What?" Buck tried to meet his eyes, but Eddie wasn't looking at him. His eyes were unfocused, directed toward the fireplace. He shook himself and refocused his attention on Buck.

"Huh?"

Buck shook his head, choosing to ignore the little changes the concussion had brought out. He pulled his phone out again and went through the list of symptoms - that one included - to remind himself precisely when it would be time to worry.

"What were you saying?" Eddie prodded, knocking his knee into Buck's.

Buck looked up from his phone, surprised to find Eddie looking at him. He wasn't sure how much of this Eddie was real and how much was the bump on the head, but he figured they were still in safe territory. "I wasn't. You were saying you worry about me."

"Oh yeah," Eddie said, nodding. "You do a lot of shit worth worrying about."

"Like what? Aside from my job," Buck challenged, setting his phone aside. He settled back into the cushions, wiggling in between two of them.

"Like falling off the roof," Eddie fired back, and Buck had to admit that it had merit. Eddie slouched down, searching for a comfortable position, and wound up tipping slightly to lean into Buck's side. He sighed his contentment and closed his eyes.

"Well, I wouldn't have fallen off the roof if you weren't hellbent on winning your neighborhood competition. Eyes open," Buck said, setting his arm on the back of the couch. Eddie took advantage of the space it created, making agreeable noises as he snuggled into Buck's side. Buck raised an eyebrow; it wasn't uncommon for either of them to touch, but this was decidedly different from sideways hugs and bumping arms as they walked.

Eddie's eyes opened obediently after several seconds, and he looked up at Buck. "Thanks," he said softly.

Buck patted his shoulder, squeezing him closer after a moment's hesitation. "It's the least I could do after you broke my fall."

"I'll always catch you," Eddie affirmed, his lips twitching. "Especially when you fall for me." His voice shook, and he gave in to the giggle that threatened.

"What?" Buck asked, a little too sharply this time. He tensed involuntarily and couldn't suppress the odd feeling tugging at the back of his mind.

"What?" Eddie repeated, frowning at him.

Buck wiped his hand over his face, hiding behind his palm in order to school his expression. "You are running in circles, and it's driving me crazy," he sighed.

"Now you know how it feels," Eddie said again. There was a hint of a smirk on his face, but it faded quickly. He cast his eyes about the room as though looking for something. "I won't remember this in a few days, will I?"

Buck edged the shoulder not occupied by Eddie's head into a shrug. "You might, but… probably not. I don't remember most of mine."

Eddie nodded and set his jaw. He sat up and turned in place to face Buck, lifting one hand to cup his jaw. There was a clarity in his eyes that hadn't been there before. Buck held his breath and waited for an explanation, but the quiet stretched on.

"Eddie," Buck breathed, setting his hand on Eddie's shoulder. "This is just the concussion." He didn't know if he was trying to convince Eddie or himself, though.

"How do you know?" Eddie demanded, his fingertips digging in behind Buck's jaw, pulling at him.

"I know you," Buck asserted, but his resolve crumbled the longer Eddie stared at him.

"You think so?" Eddie loosened his grip. Keeping his hand there, he rubbed his thumb over Buck's mouth, following the movement with his eyes. "Are you sure?"

Eddie met his eyes again, and the rest happened in slow motion. He leaned in, moving his finger out of the way just to replace it with his lips.

They were softer than Buck expected, a tentative press that lasted forever and not long enough. He closed his eyes to savor it, to revel in the ache it caused, to commit the feeling to memory. The side of Eddie's nose nudged against his, and it was so close to perfect, save for the ever present knowledge that Eddie had a concussion.

Eddie held him still and released a shaky breath across Buck's lips. Then he tipped his head and went back for more, taking Buck's bottom lip between his. Against his better judgment, Buck kissed him back.

∞

Buck kept his distance after that. One kiss. One long kiss. One long kiss with a man who had a concussion and a kid and deserved a pass.

He stayed during his time off and carefully avoided the subject, and Eddie, and ignored the longing he felt for another one.

Because it was just one kiss, and knowing Eddie wouldn't remember it made those next few days agony. He was almost relieved to go back to work and escape the persistent feeling that he'd taken advantage, the guilt that accompanied it. Things would go back to normal soon enough, but if he avoided Eddie's texts and busied himself with work instead, normal would return even faster.

That's what he told himself, anyway. He repeated it like a mantra whenever his phone buzzed and signaled Eddie's boredom.

Work only provided a distraction for a few days, and then he wound up back at Eddie's as promised. He was a glutton for punishment and apparently ready for more.

Eddie opened the front door as soon as Buck's feet hit the ground. He looked better than he had the last time Buck had been over, more rested. His eyes narrowed as Buck picked his way in between the decorations. The job had fallen to him to finish after the visit to the emergency department, and he'd done so happily as an excuse to escape Eddie's scrutiny.

"You've been avoiding me," Eddie said, pointing an accusing finger at him. "You know, if you were that sick of me, I could have gotten Carla to come babysit."

Buck rolled his eyes. "You're needy when you aren't concussed," he retorted, brushing Eddie aside so he could enter the house. He held out a bag of takeout and shook it. "Truce?"

"We'll see," Eddie grumbled, snatching the bag from him. He shoved his nose into it and took a deep sniff as he headed over to the couch. There were plates and forks already laid out in anticipation of Buck's arrival, a gesture that managed to ease his guilt further.

The subject hadn't come up again, but in the wake of that first night Eddie grew even more tactile. Touch for Buck had always been important, a way to ground him even on his worst days. Working side by side had taught Eddie when Buck needed it most, and he was always happy to provide it.

Now that it was Eddie who needed grounding, Buck couldn't find it in himself to deny him.

Eddie sat down onto the couch and laid out the food. Buck detoured to the kitchen to retrieve a couple bottles of water, and by the time he returned the plates were already loaded and the movie was starting. He took his place beside Eddie and wasn't surprised when Eddie scooted closer, closing the distance until there was no space between them from shoulder to knee.

They ate quickly and in silence, largely because Buck hadn't realized how hungry he was, but soon he sat back with his bottle of water and a sated sigh.

"Any interesting calls while I've been out?" Eddie asked, nudging the plates aside so he could prop his feet up on the table after he sat back. He leaned into Buck's side and Buck put his arm over the back of the couch, making the space as comfortable as possible.

"The usual. All the crazy shit happened on Halloween."

Eddie snorted and shifted, using Buck like his personal armrest. He rested his hand on Buck's knee, and Buck tensed.

He cleared his throat and took a sip of water, reminding himself that Eddie just needed normalcy while he regained his bearings. Concentrating on the movie was made impossible when Eddie started rubbing slow circles with his thumb.

God, this was going to kill him.

Buck glanced sideways after a few minutes and froze. Eddie was already staring intently at him. His fingers tightened in the beat of silence that followed.

"Okay," Buck huffed. The word fell from his mouth involuntarily and he swallowed as a small smile emerged on Eddie's face. He mentally went back through the week as they stared at each other, realizing after several days that it might not have been the concussion after all.

Or at least, that the concussion had just brought everything to light for both of them.

"Okay?" Eddie prompted.

Buck tipped his head, searching his eyes for answers. He held up his hand to stop Eddie as soon as he opened his mouth again. "No, wait a second. You can't tell me I was wrong here," he insisted.

Eddie shook his head as his smile widened into a grin. He closed the distance between them and covered Buck's mouth with his own, effectively shutting him up.

"You had a concussion!" Buck protested, his words trapped in between them. He tried to pull back and smiled despite himself.

"Shut up," Eddie ordered, chasing after him. He refused to allow Buck any distance, taking Buck's face in his hands and kissing him again. When Buck sat back, Eddie followed, twisting halfway into his lap.

"How was I supposed to know this was real?" Buck murmured against his lips. He set his hand on Eddie's hip to guide him.

"God, will you shut up?" Eddie groaned, breaking away long enough to seat himself across Buck's thighs. His knees tucked in on either side of Buck's hips and he framed Buck's head with his forearms, looking down at him with a mixture of wonder and exasperation. He couldn't escape even if he wanted to. And he very much did not want to.

A laugh bubbled forth and Buck pulled him closer, acquiescing to Eddie's assault. There would be time for answers after they made up for all the lost time.

#fictober20 #buddie #911 on fox #eddie diaz #evan buckley #AND WITH THAT I CLOSE OUT FICTOBER #I FUCKING DID IT #HOLY SHIT #huge huge HUGE shoutout to weresilver-in-space #seriously i don't think i could have gotten through this month without jules and his willingness to read fics and check for selling errors #and all of his cheerreading was what kept me going #even if i asked for ideas and promptly ignored them slfknaskln #jules you're a real one i'm so glad i was able to drag you into buddie hell without you even seeing 911 <3

[descendantofthesparrow]

Multipart Commission - Harry Hook x Reader - a prince behind the pirate - part 3 - stress

@musicarose​

=

You flourished your hand, ending the signature the paper needed to be approved, “okay my half done” you announced, stretching back in your seat and groaning lightly “alright, i’m gonna get to my dress fitting kay? See you later Ben” he waved you off, intently staring down at the paper he was overviewing.

You ran to Evie’s dorm, smiling as you entered, Mal sitting on her bed wearing her own cotillion dress. “love the dress Mal” you chirped, making her jump and looked to you surprised.

‘oh! Uh thanks,” she muttered distracted, eyes drifting to her mother in the tank.

“just in time (y/n), now here's the form and go get changed so I can make any changes to the size or anything kay?” you nodded and grabbed the light pink dress, going behind her changing setup.

Minutes later you stood on her little platform letting her move your body around and pin the fabric. “so, what do you think” Evie smiled up at you, glancing down you moved your arms around and took a deep breath.

“pretty good! If I could have some gloves that end in a princess point?” Evie beamed and grabbed her measuring tape, grabbing your arm, and started to measure.

“read it fast at lightning speed, remember everything I need” you glanced at Mal, who tossed her spellbook to the side and grabbed a evacuate book, waving her finger around and spelling it.

“Mal please teach me that, It would be so dang helpful for Sundays with my grandma” you laughed, mentally patting yourself on the back as Mal looked to you and gave you a small grin.

“well I think, Mal should give her spellbook to the museum!” Evie grabbed the book, Mal gasping and reaching for it “she doesn’t need it”

“you remember what I was like I couldn't even remember what class I had next without it” Mal whined, reaching for the book.

“I don’t know about you Evie, but I had that book I would use it for the same reasons Mal is using it, it's a lot to go from an isle girl to a lady of the court, there are so many rules and expectations that it's so mentally exhausting keeping up with it all!” you had a habit of talking with your hands so as you ended with your mini-rant you dropped your hands from the air and let them hit your legs.

Mal gave you a grin, the brightest you’ve seen the last couple months, Evie looked from the book to Mal and sighed, placing the book back in Mals lap “I guess you're right, but you have to tell Ben soon, i’m sure he'll understand the pressure you’ve been under to perform”

Mal nodded glumly, picking her book back up and continuing to read. You sighed, glancing at the refined sketch of your dress Evie was shoving in front of you.

“love it Evie! If its no trouble, maybe some more lilac?” Evie smiled and shook her head.

“no problem at all, you, Mal, and Chad are the only ones not done yet, I already finished the others and Jane and Lonnie had their last fittings yesterday” she chirped, grabbing a marker and opening it with her teeth, scribbling in some more lilac in your dress.

“Alright then, I have to get back to my dorm, I have some stuff on my computer that I need to send out Jane” Evie nodded and helped you off the pedestal, and unpinned you.

Three minutes later you left for your dorm, humming your mother's song as you did.

-I know you I walked with you once upon a dream- you smiled as you thought of the black-haired dream boy with the accent.

-I know you~ the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam- you stepped into your room and closed the door behind you, kicking off your shoes and collapsing into your desk chair.

“Alright, let's get to work” you muttered to yourself, clicking on your tablet and refining some décor sketches.

=

Harry pouted as Gil wiggled his brows at him “the dream girl again huh~” he laughed as harry pulled the napkin away, the form of the dream girl messily sketched on to the dark brown napkin.

“shut up” he growled, quickly punching Gil in the arm, causing the teen to yelp and wince as Harry's rings slightly cut into his skin.

“oww!” Gil whined, pouting as harry snickered and stuffed the drawing of dream girl in his pocket.

Uma came out of the kitchen and tossed tray in front off harry, glaring at the tv as she turned, she growled and hit Harry's arm, he lifted his arm allowing Uma to grab one of the crab patties and chuck it at the tv.

“ugh!” harry chuckled as she flicked the residue off her hand and leaned on the table, a nasty look on her face.

“What a poser” harry laughed and glanced at the tv.

“traitor!” Uma glanced around, raising her brow at the crew

“Hello?!” the crew roared, tossing some of their food at the tv.

Harry ducked slightly, a small grin on his lips. “oh I would love to wipe the smiles off their faces” he wiped some mayo from the screen, sticking his finger in his mouth to lick it off “yeh know what I mean?”

“Gil!” he jumped slightly, glancing at Uma, a couple of fries hanging out of his mouth “wanna quit chocking down yolks and get with the program?!”

He swallowed down and gave a nervously smile “yeah what they said?!” Uma rolled her eyes and glared at nothing in front of her.

“that little traitor, who left us in the dirt!”

“and turned her back on evil” harry cooed, lifting a fry and smirking.

“who said you weren’t big or bad enough to join her gang!” the crew went silent, harry sighing from Gil's lack of timing. “ back when we were kids….what? You remember she called her shrimpy and the name just kinda-“ gil caught Harry's eyes, which were yelling at him to shut up “-stuck?” he ended quietly, looking back down at his food.

“that snooty little witch” Uma muttered to him, looking up at him and sneering at the tv “who took everything she wanted and left me nothing”

“no, she left you that sandbox and said that you could-“ Uma slammed her hand on the table, giving a “nice” smile to Gil.

“I need you! To stop talking~” she purred, nodding as Gil shrunk into himself.

“look” Harry pushed his tray away, gesturing out to the isle “we have her turf now, they can stay in boradon-“ Uma groaned and smacked his arm.

“harry that’s her turf now!” she turned off the tv, smacking her hands on the table and leaning back with her heels “and I want it too, we should not be getting her leftovers!”

She turned and smirked at Harry, wrapping her arm around his shoulder “son of hook” she grabbed Gil and pulled him into her side “son of Gaston and me! Most of all daughter of Ursula!” she pushed Gil back to his food and turned to harry.

“what's my name?” harry dropped to a kneeling position, taking off his hat and putting it to his chest. “Uma~” she turned to Gil and repeated.

‘what's my name?”

“oh um, Uma?”

She grinned and turned to the crew. “what's my name!?”

“UMA!” satisfied, Uma nodded, eye-catching the dirty white napkin in Harry's pocket, she smirked and pulled it out, dangling it in front of harry. His eyes widened and he scrambled to grab it.

“Uma!?!” she cackled and looked at the drawing, her eyes softening slightly.

“any new things about dream girl?”

Harry sighed and shook his head “not even a smidge, she was talking about planning about some important event and how shes stressed about it n stuff” Uma stared blankly at him. “wha?”

“you dolt she's planning cotillion, your dream girl is in Auradon!” harry stopped….that made a lot of sense?

Harry groaned and facepalmed “im so stupid”

“you are” Uma stuffed the drawing back in Harry's pocket and walked around the table to grab orders, “tell ya what when we take over she can be your little pet kay?”

Harry shrugged, that was the best he could get in a villain ruled world so he would take it.

It meant that no one else would touch his dream girl at least.

=

You sent the last piece to Jane, sighing and leaning back in your chair, the door suddenly slamming open, you flinched and sat up, Mal rushing in and slamming the door behind her, the muffled voices of the press behind the now-closed door.

She quickly locked it and sighed, starting to walk around the room and breathing heavily. “Mal!” you stood and walked in front of you, holding out your hands. She reached out and grabbed them, holding onto them tightly as she closed her eyes and tried to calm down.

Her eyes flashed open and glowed, her hair flying around slightly and her grip tightening on your hands. “okay okay breathe, breath, it’s a panic attack mal, it'll pass”

With your help Mal managed to calm down, you letting her collapse against your bed, she buried her face in her hands, letting loose a sob. “why can't they just leave me alone for five minutes!!” she screamed.

You sighed and kneeled in front of her, gently prying her hands away, frowning as you saw her red eyes. “I know, I know, it's hard. The press doesn’t really get boundaries, and hardly understand the unspoken rule of ‘don’t harass a minor’ but ya know”

“how do you deal with it” she muttered, sniffing slightly and wiping her cheeks.

“uh, ignore them the best I can and if not smile and wave? Sorry, but i’m no help with it” you smiled, brushing her blonde hair back. “its, unfortunately, something all us royals deal with, trust me, we all hate it, just some of us are better at hiding it”

Mal laughed, taking one more deep breath and sighing “okay, um, I should probably get back to my dorm room now, thanks (y/n)”

You grinned and helped her stand up “no problem”

Mal looked at the window and raised her brow, which you shrugged at “you wouldn’t be the first to sneak out the window to get away from the press” you snickered, watching as Mal just went ahead and climbed out your window.

“see you tomorrow Mal!” she smiled back at you and nodded.

“see you tomorrow” she repeated, hopping out of your window and walking across the ledge to get down easier.

You closed the window and decided to get ready for bed.

Only two more days to cotillion.

--end of part 3--

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[rebsrams]

A case of you (Ethan x F!MC)  part II

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey and MC (Dr. Rebecca Valentine)

Warnings: none. Just utterly romantic fluff.

Summary: part II of my fic A case of you. Find part I here.

Word count: 1,377   

@openheartfanfics​

"On the back of a cartoon coaster

In the blue TV screen light

I drew a map of Canada

Oh, Canada

With your face sketched on it twice"

Then he saw her.

Just standing there, in the gloomy blue reflection of the tv placed on a shelf above her head.

She was swiping her finger delicately on the rim of the glass, a few coppery curls partially blocking her view.

He noticed than she had a map of some place he didn't recognize from that distance, with something sketched upon it, a few lines which from where he was standing didn't make any sense. 

"Rookie."

He called for her, breathless from the run and completely stunned by her natural beauty. 

But most of all, he was thankful to see her there, still waiting for him.

She looked up, her eyes glimmering with surprise and pure joy.

She hadn't heard him call her like that in a really long time, and suddenly they both someway felt brought like a rush to the start of it all.

That first day at the hospital, the first nights they gazed at each other through glasses of scotch on the rocks with the chattering of her friends in the background.

The coffees they secretly shared, because he couldn't stand that anyone else knew the existence of his precious and miracolous coffee machine.

That night spent together next to baby Ethan, while Ethan senior was still grieving for the loss of his mother.

That was the night he knew that anything was the same anymore. 

That he couldn't live peacefully without her.

 And he wouldn't. 

She immediately stood up, her lower lip already trembling for the excitement. "Dr. Ramsey." she managed to say, voice shaking and weak in the knees. 

She dreamed so much about this moment. 

She knew he was gonna tell her something that was going to change her life, for better of for worse. 

They finally met in front of the table, merely a couple of inches between them. He just gazed into her eyes, afraid that by saying anything he would have ruined the incredible moment they were living.

 A moment of awareness.

 "Listen, Ethan, you don't really have to say anything at all, I-I'm incredibily sorry for what..."

"I love you." 

The sentence cut into her clumsy speech like a shard of glass, sudden and sure. Eyes wide and gaping, a thin "what?" was everything she could actually manage to say in return. 

He quickly took her by the shoulders, as if to shake some sense into her, and repeated, even more sure than before: "I love you, Rebecca. Your clumsiness, and your incredible kindness, and altruism, your impatience and the little wrinkle on your forehead that it causes you when you have to wait for an important result. I love that you always take the same time to come to my office after I paged you, always a little breathless because you ran up the stairs to be quicker. I love your freshness, and the incredible irony you have, worthy of your stunning mind. I love the fire that you hold inside, igniting you from the bone, even when it's directed towards me." at that point,she let out a small chuckle, beginning to sniff loudly. 

"I love that you're so emotional" he continued, wiping her tears with his thumb "that you cried all night after that one of your long time patients left the hospital for good because you could heal him. I love you, Rebecca. And I don't want to hide anymore." 

Now, he was cupping her cheeks with both of his big and warm hands. 

"Are you going to make my heart stop?" she said, nearly choking with her tears. "Couldn't you just... I don't know, deliver the news in small doses?" 

Now was his turn to chuckle, a giggle which turned into a deeply laugh that filled his chest. 

"What was that saying of yours... Go big or go home, right?"

Just like he imagined, she threw her arms around his neck and began to pepper his face with kisses, until their mouths finally encountered in what seemed the seal to a silent pact. 

No more lies. No more running.

They stood there, in each other's arms, foreheads touching and inebriated grins on their faces for what seemed an eternity.

Eventually, they sat to share a drink together, cherishing the moment a little more.

"What is it that you have there?"

He pointed to the map she was sketching upon, catching her cheeks turning red.

"Oh, just a little... Nothing, really"

He could easily smell the lie, picking the map of what looked like...

"Canada? And... Is it my face that you were drawing?"

"It's a long story."

"I have plenty of time. Plus, I'm not going anywhere." he said, kissing the back of her hand.

She let out a long sigh.

"Well, long story short... I was offered a job at the Toronto General hospital, a few days ago. I must admit that I really thought about moving my residency there, escaping from my problems and starting a new life. I even bought this map yesterday, hoping it would have gave me the courage to finally face the decision.Then... I found myself sketching your face on it, twice, and hoping that you wouldn't forget me once I got away. That you could forgive me, if I went there. Now I'm so ashamed... I just want to dig deep and hide!"

She let go of his hand and dug both hands in the mess of her curls, a dismayed expression on her face.

"Rebs, sweetheart. I should be the one ashamed, here. You have to forgive me. For the way I treated you, for backing away when you needed me the most, for being so fucking scared of making you suffer just by being by your side that I hurt you anyway. That is a thing I could never forgive myself for, but you have to. I couldn't live otherwise."

He tilted her chin up to make her face him, giving her a quick nod.

"Let me take you home." he said almost in a whisper.

Now was her turn to nod, a brief smile hanging loose on her lips.

"You're in my blood like holy wine

You taste so bitter and so sweet, ohI could drink a case of you

Still I'd be on my feet

Oh, I would still be on my feet"

Three years later, Dr. Ethan Ramsey was sitting on the couch of his apartment, her wife's head in the slope of his neck while he gently caressed her belly, swollen by six months of pregnancy.

"Judy, dear, I already told you that you'll have to wait a little longer before meeting us. We're quite impatient too, your mommy especially, but that is no reason to kick the hell out of her." Ethan whispered softly to her womb.

"Ethan! That's not quite the way to talk to a baby, you know."

While playfully reproaching him, she shuffled his hair in a way that made his heart melt like the first time she laid her hands on him.

"Maybe we should blame it on the alcohol. I think that three glasses of that pinot noir i drank with Naveen this evening had me quite dizzy. I still can't imagine how a man of his age who once was on the verge of death and ready to let everything go could take the alcohol that way."

"Maybe it's my presence that makes you so dizzy, uh? I saw you enter that door quite decently just half an hour ago." she mocked him, remembering him stumble through the doorstep.

"Trust me, my dear, you're the only thing that's keeping me on my feet and going. You, and this funny little thing in here" 

He kissed her belly affectionately, unspoken prayers carried with the simplicity of that gesture. 

"Have I ever told you that I love you, Doctor Ethan Jonah Ramsey?" she replied, giving him a peck on the lips.

Something about his full name said by her wife's full lips filled him with pride and a touch of lust that he could never resist, no matter how hard he tried.

"Quite a few times, I guess."

With a swift movement, despite her several months of pregnancy and his actual dizziness, he lift her up and brought her to their bedroom, ready to cherish her once more as he always did since that night of three years before. 

Aaaand here we go! Hope you liked the second part.

I had a lot of fun writing this.

Feel free to report any mistake (as I already said, I’m not a native speaker and I’d really like to improve, so your help is more than well received!)

Also, I’m trying to gather a taglist, so let me know if you’re interested in my writing and want to stay up to date on my MC adventures!

#open heart #Open heart book 2 #Open heart 2 #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #doctor ethan ramsey #ethan jonah ramsey #Ethan Ramsey x reader #open heart fanfiction #my writing #my fic #Fanfics #ethan ramsey fanfiction

[wreckofawriter]

Focus

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Ravenclaw!reader

Warnings: Slight swearing, bullying

Word count: 4,728 (this is the longest one I've ever written)

Request: Hey do you think you could do a Draco imagine? I was thinking with a ravenclaw reader who’s actually shy and clumsy.

A/n: Sorry this came out later than I anticipated, its regents week for me and I was crushed by exams. I hope to have part one of my Draco series out over the weekend. Hope you guys like this ridiculously long one!

“Ms. y/l/n” You heard an all too familiar voice say.

“Yes Professor?” You asked turning around swiftly to face the raven haired teacher.

“What happened with your potion, it was a complete disaster?” The teacher asked.

You flushed, it was no secret you weren't exactly great at positions, you were too clumsy to measure anything out, you managed to cut your finger and you always messes up the order of ingredients.

“I'm so sorry professor i'm just not very good at positions. I have been studying I swear, it just..” Your voice trailed off. “I'm sorry professor.” You mumbled looking down.

“I want you prepared for the test next Wednesday, you should be able to manage that?” He asked eyebrows raised.

“Of course professor.” You mumbled still quite flush from the whole conversation. You turned to leave walking back towards your common room. About thirty seconds later you saw the last person you wanted to. Mckenzie Clarkson. She was a fellow housemate who unfortunately was extremely popular, pretty, nimble footed and of course, smart. She was basically everything you weren't, in your mind.

“God your pathetic.” The brunett girl laughed, her stunning green eyes narrowing. “You have lost, what was it? 30 points for us today.” The girls behind her giggled whispering things to each other. “You shouldnt even be in Ravenclaw. Your far to stupid. You cant even get into the common room without help, you trip over your own feet and you are practically failing all your classes.” She smirked clearly feeling very good about herself, as you willed yourself not to cry. You hated crying, so you just glared up at her anger rushing through you like a wave, but you kept it down, what could you possibly say to her?

“Can you just let me go?” You asked voice weak.

“I don't know can we?” The hallway erupted in laughter.

“Just let me leave.” You said voice a bit stronger now as your anger grew.

“Fine.” She smirked as she moved out of the way. You quickly began to walk through the group of girls, the embarrassment was suffocating.

Just as you were about to break free of the group, a girl stuck he leg out sending you sprawling to the ground. Your hands, full of books that scattered as you attempted to get your arms in front of you, it was a failure and you landed on your elbow directly followed by you face. You groaned in pain as you felt blood begin to seep from your nose.

“Oops.” The girl giggled before they all turned to leave laughing and joking.

You lay there for a few seconds squeezing your eyes shut, begging the tears to retreat. You eventually pushed yourself up so you were sitting. You were surrounded by books and papers, you had blood rushing down your face dripping onto you shirt and you had had enough. You simply pulled yourself to the side of the hallway drawing your knees to you cest and began to cry. You knew this wouldn't stop. You were far too shy to say anything and even if you weren't the girls were right anyway. Why were you in Ravenclaw when it took you a good twenty minutes just to figure out the password to your own common room?

Just then your heard voices. You quickly moved grabbing your books and sprinting out of the hallway before anyone could see you. You sprinted the whole way back to the tower. You were greeted by the raven statue you had grown to hate. You groaned loudly.

The statue spoke, “How is it possible for you to stand behind your father while he is standing behind you?” it asked, making you groan again.

“Can you please just let me in, im covered in blood.” You grumbled knowing that it wouldn’t answer. You tried to think. How can I stand behind something that is behind me? You racked your brain for an awnser but it seemed impossible. You couldnt help it you began to cry again. Frustration, embarrassment and sadness filled you as tears streaked you cheek. Why were you put in Ravenclaw? What could that stupid, good for nothing, hat possibly seen in you that made him shout “Ravenclaw” like a farmer yelling for his next sheep to slaughter.

You then heard footsteps beside you. You turned to see Cho Chang. She was in the year above you and was everything a Ravenclaw should have been, pretty, athletic, and of course wicked smart. You wanted to hate her for being so perfect but you couldn't.

“Hey,” She said softly, “I heard what Mckenzie did. That's messed up.” She attempted to sooth you.

“It doesn't matter.” You attempted to smile but it was more of a tight lipped grimace.

“She’s wrong you know.” Cho smiled.

You gave a half hearted laugh, “What could possibly make me a Ravenclaw?”

“So much y/n,” she said, “You are crazy good at Wizards Chess for one.”

“That’s just a stupid game.” You grumbled.

“No, it takes strategy and I've never seen a single person beat you.” She pointed out.

You blushed not used to getting praised.

“Also i've seen your artwork, its beautiful, absolutely stunning.” She smiled making you blush more.

“Thanks.” you mumbled.

“Look don't let one girl get you down.” She advised before asking the statute for the riddle. It answered and she stood there thinking for a second.

    “Oh!” she exclaimed, “Your standing back to back.”

    The statue spun open as you hit your forehead onto you stack of books making you stumble, barley catching yourself before you fell. You cursed yourself before ascending the stairs to your room. You had had enough humiliation for today.

    Draco rolled his eyes as Zambini told another terrible joke beside him, “What do you call a red head with no brains?’

    “I don't know, you with red hair?” Draco mocked.

    “Close but no.” the other boy snickered, “A weasley!” He erupted into laughter as they rounded the corner, heading to the common room.

    As they continued talking Draco felt something thump against his foot. He looked down to see a leather bound book which he had kicked a few feet in front of him. The platinum blonde raised his eyebrows before bending down to pick it up.

    “What the..” Balises voice trailed off.

    Draco looked up to see a small puddle of blood at the end of the quoridor.

    “Some idiot probably got hurt in potions or something.” Draco scoffed, though he was a bit confused. They continued walking being careful to avoid the blood. Draco's mind was quickly brought back to the book and he opened it to see what it was. What he saw stunned him.

    They were sketches. Not crappy sketches that was done by some kid, but damn good sketches. Most of them looked like they were for herbology. There were various plants with notes about them scribbled in messy handwriting in the margins, but every few pages there was something different. On the fifth page there was a drawing of a creature he didn't recognize. It was a black horse-like creature with big leathery looking wings. He wondered what it was. They had now arrived at the common room and Draco went directly to a couch sitting down on the black leather, continuing through the book. On the eleventh page there was a drawing of a broom stick. It was read Nimbus 2000 at the handel. There were various other sketches of random objects littered throughout the pages of plants and each was extremely realistic. His thoughts were interrupted by Daphne and Pansy.

    “Did you draw those Malfoy?” Daphne asked plucking the book out of his hand ignoring his protests.

    “No, could I have it back?” He asked glaring at the girl.

    Before she could respond Perkison interrupted, “Who’s is it Dracy?”

    “Don't call me Dracy” the boy groweld, “and I haven't the slightest idea.”

    “Oh, how did you get it?” Daphne asked.

    “I just found it, now give it back.” He stood up snatching the book up before retreating upstairs.

    “Who pissed in his cheerios?” Pansy grumbled plopping onto the couch.

    The next day you had herbology first period, you quite liked herbology you were good at it too. You loved how you could just sketch after you finished the drawing of the plants and of course you love your grade in the class. It made you feel less like a loser. Just a little less. When you plopped yourself into a seat next to a Ravenclaw boy named Casey. He was always very nice and often complimented you drawings. You would be lying if you said you didn't like him a little.

    After sitting down and greeting the boy you opened your bag to look for your sketchbook. It was nowhere to be found. What the heck? You thought as you searched through your bag with no luck. Then it struck you. You must have left it in the dungous yesterday. You cursed yourself quietly.

    “You okay?” Casey asked beside you.

    “Yeah I just lost my book,” You smiled at him blushing a bit.

    “Oh. I could help you look for it later if you want.” He offered.

    “O-oh I wouldn't want to bother you.” you blushed

    “It's no bother, I swear i want to help.” He smiled flashing a pearly set of straight teeth.

    “Ok, s-sounds good.” You stammered, you felt your face grow impossibly warmer.

    The lesson continues and you talked occasionally to Casey, you did your sketch on a piece of lined paper, you would transfer them when you found your notebook. After Herbologioy you and Casey headed down to the dungeons to look for your book. You had never really hung out with him out of class and it was nice. You were fighting a blush the whole time, you weren’t really one who interacted with attractive boys out of class.

    Draco began to make his way down to potions, he was still working through the drawings, there were many creatures he had never heard of before. It was odd, how had he never seen so many of these before? He was halfway through the dungeons when he heard giggling. It wasn't Pansy’s shriek, it was a soft quiet sound that made him think of the patter of rain on dewy grass. He turned the corner to see two figures in blue robes. One was a tall boy with dirty blond hair and deep brown eyes. Next to him was a y/h girl with y/h/l y/h/c hair that shone in the candle light. Her eyes were a stunning y/e/c that shared a soft yet sharp gaze with the world. He was taken aback. How had he never seen this girl before? They both looked at Draco expecting him to speak but he didn't, he simply kept walking brushing past the two, tucking the leather bound book back into his robes.

    As he walked away, he heard the boy mutter something to the girl, causing her to gasp and laugh,

    “Casey!” she scolded him

    “Oh come on y/n that was funny.” He teased back and Draco almost gasped in surprise. That was y/n? y/n y/l/n? No way. You were in his potions class and you never even spoke up, you were constantly messing up positions too. How was that girl the same one whose name he had grown deaf to Snape yelling? I didn't seem possible.

“Shot, I have to get to positions.” you told Casey glancing at your watch. He said goodbye as you walked quickly to your worst class. You were actually unusually excited, Luna one of your best friends had offered to help you out because you had the class together and she was quite good at potions. You entered the classroom quickly and found Lun, sitting next to the girl. As you waited for class to start you chatted about the different potions and what might be on the test.

“Wait for the dragons egg you have to turn it to powder first right?” you asked to see your friends gaze elss where.

“Dracos staring at you.” She said simply as if she hadn't just said an impossible sentence.

“What?” you asked turning around to meet a pair of silver eyes already on you. They quickly dodged away making you blush tremendously. “I saw him in the hallway eairler, and Casey made a stupid joke about him, hes probally plotting my death.” You sighed reality crashing on to you.

    “I don't think so.” Luna said in her usual dreamy tone.

    “What else would he be doing?” You murmured returning to your notes.

    Before Luna could answer Snape entered the room and you snapped your eyes to the front of the class.

    “It has come to my attention that many of you are getting nothing done in this class.” He stated harshly. You cringed this was not going to end well. “And because of that fact I have made a new seating chart,” You groaned, just when you were getting excited about positions.

    “Listen for your name and your partner,” He continued. “Parkinson, Belby. Goldstein, Crabbe. Greengrass, Lovegood.” You glanced at your friend who was as usual, smiling. You are happy for her as well, there were much worse partners to be had. “Corner, Zambini. Boot, Blustrode. Y/l/n, Malfoy.” The rest of the names went out of the window when you heard your partner. This was not going to be good, not good at all.

    When Draco heard your name called, then quickly followed by his he felt like he was going to throw up. And it wasn't because he knew you were probably going to botch whatever potion they made, it was because he wasn't sure if he could focus around you. He blushed madly and tried to think about something else. It's just a pretty girl you bloody idiot. He scolded himself. You just met her today, he reminded himself Well just realized she existed today. He was shaken out of his thoughts by Snape's voice.

“If you don't like your partner, too bad. Move together please.” Draco glanced over at y/n who was already packing up, Zambini moved from his seat apologizing to Draco for his partner and moved toward the back where Micheal was seated.

    He then saw you make your way over to him your cheeks a bit red, the same way they were when you were talking to that Casey boy in the hallway. He grimaced, how was he jealous of someone he had never spoken a word to? He then decided he would ignore every good quality you had and focus on the bad ones. That way it would be easier to pretend to hate you right?

    The second you sat down his plan failed. You smelt like vanilla and roses. He wanted to lean closer to you and inhale your addicting scent forever, but instead he moved over or so he couldn't breathe in your intoxicating fumes.  

    “Hi, i’m y/n.” You said sweetly sticking your hand out.

    “I know who you are.” Draco responded ignoring your hand and continuing to stare at the board, slouching in his seat.

    “Oh ok.” You murmured. He saw a small frown take over your soft pink lips and he felt angry for being its cause.

    Snape explained that you were to make a Confusing Concoction potion and told you you had till the end of class. The potion wasn't too complicated. You thought you might be able to get through this one.

    “I'll get the water you can work on the feathers.” Draco drawled trying not to get to close to you as he stood. You pretend not to notice.

    “Ok.” you nodded. You grabbed the feathers and began to separate the barbs from them. Not but two feathers in you yelped with pain as a barb pierced your thumb. You yanked it out hissing in pain as you saw blood drips from the wound. Draco who was now back and heating the water grimaced at the sound of your pain but refused to show that he cared.

    He sighed loudly, “Look you go clean up and I will finish the feathers.”

    “Thank you.” you whimpered walking towards a sink face red as the blood dripping from your hand.

    Draco let out a breath he didn't know he was holding after you walked past. He then sat down and began to work on the feathers. His fingers moved easily to separate the barbs from the stalk and he couldn't help but wonder how you had possible stuck yourself with one so quickly. He then heard a thump and an apology and looked up to see you stumbling back to your seat face a brilliant red as Millicent and Boot glared after you. He snickered a bit turning back to the feathers.

    Once you had most of the ingredients in you had to wait for 30 minutes for it to boil so Draco sat down and pulled out the book of drawings he had found.

    He was flipping through the pages again when he heard a gasp beside him. He looked up eyebrows raised.

    “Where did you find that?” You asked pointing at the book.

    “In the hallway.” He smirked, “Why do you care anyway?”

    “Because it's mine.” You whispered causing his cheeks to flush.

    “This is yours?” He asked surprise sewn into his voice.

    “Yes.” you nodded, “I lost it when..” your voice trailed off face growing red, “after potions.” you finished voice quiet.

    “You sure this is yours?” It came out harsher than Draco had intended but what could he do about it now?

    “Yes.” you breathed out face growing warmer. “It does have drawings in it, doesn't it?”

    “Well yeah but they are like, really good.” Only after he said it did he realise how it sounded. He instantly was filled with guilt as your face flashed with sadness and anger.

    “Yeah, well, they’re mine.” You grumbled voice quiet.

    “Here.” He handed the book to you, your hands brushed before you snatched the book away and he felt like he was going to burst at the feeling of your skin against his.

    Just then the timer on your position went off and the two of you continued to work.

    That's how it went for two weeks. You and Draco would share very few words as you worked together. Your grade did improve, but you were still quite prone to accidents and Draco rolled his eyes everytime. You went from being sad he didn't like you to being mad. He was always so rude. He would avoid speaking to you, looking at you, hell he avoided you altogether, his seat was always poised at the other end of the desk as if you were some sort of plague. All of this made you angry and frustrated. What have you done to make you so repulsive? You knew you weren't the best at potions but you had only messes up three the whole time and you were improving. You had never been rude to the boy even once, how come he hated you so much?

    “I just don't get it.” You pouted turning to Casey who was walking you down to potions.

    “It's not your fault y/n, he's like that with everyone.” He explained, “He's just a dick, not much you can do about it.”

    “But maybe if I was better at potions the-” you were interrupted by Casey.

    “Y/n its not your fault, you are amazing and sweet and kind, it's just him okay? Don't let him make you doubt yourself.”

    You blushed furiously at his words, “Thanks Case.”

    “Plus if he's really pissing you off just blow a potion up in his face.” he jeered.

    You laughed loudly, “He'd probably kill me with his icy glare.” you teased.

    “He is always glaring at you.” Casey smiled.

    “Thanks for walking me.” You said.

    “Of course, i’ll see you around y/n.” He beamed.

    “See ya.” You said before entering the classroom. You were met with Draco's frozen glare.

    “Hello Malfoy.” You greeted.

    “Y/l/n” he responded his voice vacant of any emotion.

    You sat down and glanced at the board to see what position you were working on. You then looked at Draco who was already looking at you making you blush.

    “I'll get the water.” You said promptly before standing up and snatching a cauldron. Only when you did this you left foot got caught behind your right and you plummeted to the ground. You dropped the cauldron with a clang and you hit the ground. You instantly heard laughter erupted throughout the room and you felt tears well up in your eyes. You then heard a snicker and you didn't have to see his face to know it was Draco. You blinked furiously face a deep shade of crimson. You then pushed yourself off the ground, lifted the cauldron from a few feet away and turned to face the slytherin boy. Your shyness suddenly disappearing in your rage and embarrassment when you saw the everlasting smirk perched on his lips. You felt two tears cascade down your red cheeks as you thrust the cauldron into his hands.

“Screw you Malfoy.” your voice trembled through gritted teeth. You then quickly left the classroom, laughter disappearing behind you. You made it maybe two cordors from the classroom when you saw Mckenzie. You instantly turned to run but were cut off by a few other girls already behind you.

“God y/n, such a clutz.” She snickered. “I think you belong in a physical therapy building not a wizarding school.”

You only whimpered feeling helpless and small.

“Boo-hoo poor, poor, y/n all alone.” She rubbed her eyes with her fists.”You do realize that Casey only hangs out with you because of a dare right?”

Your eyes widened in confusion.

“I made a dare that he couldn't get you to go out with him in a month and here we are, only two weeks in and you are practically drooling over him.”

You felt a sob leave your mouth. You wanted to say it wasn’t true but you knew it was. It sure as hell wasn’t a coincidence he asked to help you find your book the exact day she said she struck the deal with him. You felt angry. Sad. But most of all embarassed. You were always so embarrassed. Why where you always so fucking embarassed?!

“Guess I'll have to go out with him now that I told you about the bet” She smirked picking at her long blue nails.

“Of course.” You muttered tears falling of your chin.

“What's that?” Mckenzie smirked.

“Of course he would want to go out with you.” You began to sob and you saw Mckenzie’s smirk widen and your anger out did you.

“Of course, some douchebag like him would want to date a slutty bitch like you.” Anger dripped like poison from your voice. All of the laughter around you stopped as you felt yourself smile. You looked up through your tears to see Mkenzies mouth wide open in shock, her eyes wide in her sockets.

Anger took over her features and she pulled her wand from her robes with a shriek. “Stupify!” she shouted and you were sent sprawling backward. Your head hit the stone wall and black dots danced in your vision. You groaned closing your eyes but they popped back open when you heard another voice.

“Back off!” it yelled anger knit into its frame. You turned to see Draco heading strait at the girls. He whipped his wand once and suddenly Meckenzi flew into the air. She then dangled there like an invisible rope was tied to her ankle.

She shrieked for the girls below her to help but they just turned and ran fearful of the boy heading toward them. After the other girls disappeared Draco flicked his wand again and Mckenzie fell to the ground and began to cry.

“Get out of here before I do more than hex you.” You heard him growl.

The girl instantly stood up sobbing as she stumbled away. Draco's eyes softened when they landed on you.

“Are you alright?” he asked as he rushed over to you.

“What do you care Malfoy?” you mumbled attempting to get up only to stumble over your own feet and plummet to the ground, well you would have hit the ground if it wasn't for a pair of strong arms wrapping around you. You looked up at the blonde, his grey eyes were set on your lips and felt your heartbeat speed up to extremely high. Draco's face was now quite red as he helped you back to your feet.

“Why do you hate me?” the question rose from your lips before you could stop it. You flushed immediately after it left your mouth. Draco looked taken aback by the question.

“I don't hate you.” he stated.

“Don't lie to me. You avoid looking at me, you don't speak to me, hell you sit as far away from me as possible.” You paused looking at the boy, “I just want to know why.”

He laughed he actually laughed. What could possibly be funny right now? Was this all another joke? Did he really find your misery that funny. You flushed madly turning to leave.

“No wait love, don't leave.” Draco begged his laughter stopping abruptly.

You felt heat rush to your face at the nickname and turned around looking at the ground. Your gaze was turned upward when you felt a finger slowly lift your face upward. You had never blushed so much in your entire life.

“I don't hate you y/n. I would never hate you.” He smiled, not his usual smirk but a genuine smile and it made you go weak at the knees. “I don't think I could ever hate you.”

“Then why do you act like you do?” you asked, “Why do you avoid me? Why do you never talk to me, never look at me?”

He sighed, “I avoid you because whenever I get near you, I smell you. And it drives me crazy.” His hand caressed your cheek bone and you were pretty sure you face was on fire. “Your scent is beyond intoxicating. When I talk to you I lose track of everything else and I can only hear your voice echoing in my head.” He whispered, his minty breath danced across your face making you shudder. “And when I look at you, it's like the world disappears and it's only you standing there. Everytime I look at you I have to battle myself not to lean in and taste your lips.”

You stared at him. You couldn't breath, your It had been replaced with butterflies that were now fluting inside you madly. You were pretty sure this is what death felt like. But then something clicked inside you and your realized this wasn't death it was love.

“When it comes to you, I can focus on nothing else.” Dracos lips were so close you could feel them brush yours and you couldn't take it anymore. You grabbed the back of his head and smashed his lips onto yours.

You had never felt anything like it before, his lips danced on yours with grace you couldn't even begin to fathom. You felt his tongue slid across your lips and your eyes widened in surprise. You then shut them again opening your mouth a slight bit. You ran your hand threw his hair as he explored your mouth with his tongue pushing you up against the wall softly. You didn't want to break the kiss but you felt your lungs burn begging for air and you drew away from him.

You were both panting when you pulled apart. Your face was a bright red, your lips swollen, and hair disheveled but to Draco, you had never looked more beautiful.

“Merlin,” he gasped out, “I'm never going to focus again when I know you kiss like that.”

You flashed a brilliant red and giggled, Draco then decided he couldn't stop himself anymore, he pressed his lips against yours once again.

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[ownworldresident]

We Are Our Own Heroes. Chapter Two: Bayside

Book: The Royal Romance, seven years post-TRR

Premise: Six years after a tragic loss, Liam and his adopted daughter meet Cassandra, an artist with her own troubled past, and the three find in each other the friend they never knew they needed.

Disclaimer: Setting and some characters belong to Pixelberry. I am just borrowing them and will return them when they feel better.

Themes: found family, (power of) friendship, healing

The Master Masterlist (link) ---  Our Own Heroes Masterlist (link)

Liam

Saturday rolled around again. Nothing could lift the heavy circles under Liam’s eyes or take away his yawns, and the coffee could only do so much. He took solace in the fact that he could crash hard later that day. Emily had a harder time against this team. He kept score in his head, crossing his fingers and sending encouraging smiles whenever she glanced his way. The final whistle blew as they started from the centre of the court. Emily looked around to find her coach, then converged with her teammates. A moment later they cheered at the score. The crowd filed out and Liam waited for Emily to take her time with her friends. He nodded to the few spectators who looked his way. Today’s game was a late one, and the court was almost bare except for a few chatting kids and waiting parents. He yawned again, and when he opened his eyes, Cassie stood beside him. He blinked, too tired to conceal his surprise. “Sorry,” she chuckled, “didn’t mean to startle you.” “No, that’s alright,” he replied, “long week.” “Here I thought being king would be easy.” Cassie folded her arms across her chest. Liam breathed a laugh, but that was all he could manage. Something had happened, in the last few weeks, to throw him off balance.

“Challenging. But rewarding.” “A standard answer.” She smiled, then sighed. Liam watched her torn expression morph into resolve. “She’s lucky to have you,” she continued, turning to Emily a moment. Liam did not follow her gaze, but watched Cassie instead. “Thank you,” he answered, wary of the direction of the conversation. "My sister was really ill years back, and I moved in to take care of her boys for a while. I was only 24 at the time. I knew nothing about children, and they were so small.” Cassie smiled, and Liam waited to see if she would continue. He was glad the courts were emptying, and there was no one within earshot. “She was living out in the country, and I’d come straight from university in Amsterdam. No one really thought I should be the one to look after them, it was hard, but it… was the right thing to do, I think. They are such dear boys.” She looked down, a little heat in her cheeks, and Liam frowned. “You knew what they needed.” He found himself saying. “Where they’d come from.” She nodded, lifting her head again. “Maybe someone knew better. But I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I’d failed my sister when she needed me most.” Liam took in her words, feeling the memory come to him again. He blinked, and remembered where he was. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked gently. Cassie turned to him, then away again, cheeks a little redder. “I’m not sure.” She sighed. “I suppose I wanted you to know. It’s hard when no one believes in you. When no one understands.” Her voice trailed as she finished, but a moment later strengthened again. “I haven’t coached Emily before, but I have seen you around. I’m sorry if this is inappropriate, but if you ever need someone to talk to.” She lifted her shoulders, trying not to fold in on herself. “I’m here.” Liam pulled away from her, realising how unguarded he had been during the conversation. “Thank you,” was his final reply. What else could he say? Something more articulate if he was awake enough. Cassie nodded, then pulled something from her jacket pocket. As he suspected, the paper she handed him had her name and mobile number. “I’m not asking you to call me or anything,” she said with a more familiar cadence. “But if you need…” she smiled, “I’m here.” And with a nod, she walked away. Liam pocketed the note, and tried and failed to decipher whatever subtext he had missed. He didn't get much time to do so. A rush of colour preceded an impact against his side and he nearly stumbled. Emily wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him, grinning, eyes shining with exertion. “Movie?” she said, leaning her chin against his stomach. Liam could hardly watch her insistence without laughing. “That depends.” He raised his eyebrows, and Emily frowned. “On what?” Leaning down, Liam gently detached her from him, kissed the top of her head, and stepped back. “On whether you can beat me to the car!” He ran, but not to win. Odd looks followed from those around them, but Liam’s focus was on the small shape darting ahead.

Cassandra

The last of the kids departed, and Cassie continued to pack up. The work took her hands to complete but not her mind, and she whisked herself away to some place colourful. Somewhere she could go to create. With everything packed away, she hoisted the ball bag over her shoulder and carried it to her car. She reflected on her interactions with Liam and Emily. Had she been too abrupt with her offer? She’d only known him a few weeks and spoken to him twice, and he had seemed concerned. That was the reason she had offered it, she reminded herself. All she could do was hope that her manner wasn’t off-putting, if a friend was what he needed. And if he didn’t act on her offer, like her mother had always said, at least she had tried. Back in her studio apartment, Cassie tossed her keys in a bowl by the door and the sports bag on the ground. “Back to work,” she informed no one in particular. Peeling off her clothes, she threw them in the direction of her bed. Then she changed into old stained things, and twirled a charcoal pencil between her fingers. With soft music as a backdrop, several hours and a glass of wine passed before she admitted defeat. The line work on her canvas was approximately complete but nothing in her usual colour palette captured the feel of it. The much larger canvas nearby was as blank as the day she bought it. It taunted her lack of inspiration. There was plenty of time, she told it, and pointedly avoided the calendar on her wall ‘with exhibition’ circled two months from now. Around dusk, a miasma of sunset shades began to leak in through the window and touch her other pieces. Her stomach growled on cue as she registered the time. It occurred to her that she hadn’t eaten since midday yesterday. As good a reason as any, she reasoned, to take a break. She grabbed her jacket and keys and headed out again.

---

After dark on a Saturday, the boardwalk came to life. Cassie reclined in the corner of her favourite establishment, drink in one hand, pencil in the other. Always carry a sketchbook. And when she wasn’t in front of a canvas her hand flowed freely. The din of the bar was chatty and friendly. Two and a half walls were open to a balcony over the bay. People meandered in and out or stood or sat in groups, waving their hands in animated recounts of their life events. Warm lighting like this was perfect for sketching. Her knees were nearly against her chest at a booth in the corner and hid most of her work from prying eyes. An easy sketch sat nearby. Rolling her shoulders back, Cassie drew his outline. He hunched over the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey, denim jacket concealing muscled arms and a t-shirt. He came most weekends, she noticed -detailing the perfect frown- but never seemed to be fully here. When she looked up again he was gone. “Having fun?” The low voice resonated from the same booth she sat at. Cassie hadn’t noticed his approach. She pulled her sketchbook against her chest as she turned to him. Too late, the regular had noticed his likeness. “What gave it away?” she asked, reaching for her cocktail. He shrugged. “You’ve hardly touched your drink.” He gestured to the almost full glass in her hand, ice almost melted. She grinned and took a sip. “Likewise.” She indicated his glass. He rarely took more than a shot at a time. “This isn’t meant to be rushed.” He gazed at his drink with reverence and she tried not to laugh. “Uhuh.” Cassie took another sip and looked back at her sketch as she put the glass down. “What do you think?” “Of your sketch?” He reclined. “You’re very talented.” “Not what I was going for, but thanks.” Cassie smirked, then turned her book so he could see the drawing better. “Did I get you right?” He shrugged, took another sip, then shook his head. “I don’t frown that much.” Cassie spilled her drink on the table as she laughed, which only made her laugh more. When finally she regained control, he was waiting. “Yes, you do.” The man turned away. His attempt at a severe frown fell short as the tiniest curve of a smile touched the corner of his mouth. She picked up her pencil again and started adding the new expression. “I’m Cassie,” she said into the silence, no longer able to leave his sketches unnamed. Leaning toward her book to focus on the detail of his lips, she waited for his response. Instead, when she looked up, he had turned to her fully, and intensely. “What?” “So you’re Cassie,” he said. She frowned this time. “What do you mean?” He blinked, glanced at his drink for a long moment, then shook his head. “Nothing,” he said, sticking out his hand, “I’m Drake.”

What Happened Six Years Ago

Drake

Drake found Liam in the hall of the children’s hospital. The day was more than over, and the quiet was eerie. He lowered himself to the seat beside Liam, and they sat in silence for some indeterminate time, receiving awkward glances from the few hospital staff that passed. “Li—” Drake started, realising with a cough that he hadn’t spoken in several hours. He cleared his throat. “Liam, I think…” But there weren’t any adequate words to come after that. “We should figure out what to do next.” Liam didn’t respond. He stared wide-eyed at the ground, fingers laced around the back of his head and elbows braced on his knees. How far into his mind had he retreated? “We should think about—” “It doesn’t matter.” Drake's chest tightened at the heaviness in Liam’s voice. Like he couldn’t intonate. He paused, and searched for what to say next.   “You can’t sit in a hospital corridor all night. You need to decide what to do. There’s the… her…” Drake turned from his friend, trying not to imagine the view of the night before in that old, musty room. He wasn’t successful. “I can organise our trip back to Cordonia, and you can send people back to investigate, but you need to make the call about her…” he swallowed painfully past the lump in his throat. “Anna’s body.” The words came out hoarse. “Coming with us. Bastien is organising it.” New information to Drake, but he nodded. “And the kid.” “Emily.” Liam croaked, then sighed. The door closest to Liam’s other side was the girl’s room door. “She won’t be here much longer. We need to organise where to leave her.” “Leave her?” Liam looked up, finally, and Drake struggled to keep focus when confronted with the red, grief stricken eyes of his friend. “Once she leaves the hospital, we need to find a home for her.” Liam balked, leaning away from him, and the sudden movement was jarring. “Drake she’s coming with me. How could you even suggest …” Liam stood and looked down to him. “I made a promise.” “You said you’d take care of her.” “At my home, yes.” “Liam you can’t be…” Drake stood as well to be on a level. “She’s barely three years old. You don’t know anything about children.” Liam stared at him. “You still don’t get it.” Drake made a sweeping gesture but continued in an even voice. “Then help me get it. What do you owe her, after what she put you through?” “I promised—” Liam halted as his volume rose, then sighed again and lowered his voice. “I promised I would protect her. Handing her over to social care or their equivalent here, however fortunate she might be in finding a family who treats her as she deserves, is not enough.” Drake grit his teeth, struggling to find a way to bring reason to Liam’s emotional argument. He was no more prepared to raise a child than Drake was. “Three years old,” Drake repeated, hesitant. “She won’t remember what happened. Taking her away from here isn’t fair to her.” “And what if she does remember? Do you think you will ever for… forget…” Liam slumped back against the wall and down to his seat again. He raked his fingers through his hair and groaned, and when he looked up again he looked paler and more tired than Drake had ever seen him. “As I said,” Liam drew in a long breath. “I made a promise. I won’t leave her fate to chance.” No matter his grievance, Drake couldn’t force Liam to consider something he was set against. Maybe in a few days, when his thoughts cleared, he could convince Liam that finding Emily a family was better than taking her in himself. After all, there was no way he would be able to move on from Anna while raising a child who looked just like her.

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