um look at where her hands are

the-queen-sees-all  asked:

I was wondering, what if Harry and Hermione had met before Hogwarts?

The first time Harry Potter met Hermione Granger, she was standing with her chin up and her hands on her hips a few paces from the old olive tree in the schoolyard, glaring into the far distance. The wind was trying to twist and buffet her hair into her face, but mostly it was just tangling cheerfully with itself.

Dudley and Piers were busy kicking all the other kids off the play structure, so Harry had retreated out into the grass. He stood a safe distance from the weird girl who was pretending to be a statue and thought wistfully of lunch.

“There’s a fallen bird’s nest,” the girl said in a rapid and certain tumble of syllables. “The boys knocked it out of the tree, but I chased them off and I’m hoping the mama bird comes back. I’m Hermione Granger. We just moved here.”

“Harry,” he said.

“How’d you get that scar?” she said.

“Car accident.”

“That’s a weird scar for a car accident.”

Harry shrugged. “It killed my parents.”

She blinked quickly at him and even at that distance he wished vaguely that she wore glasses, too, because her gaze was something that really felt like it should have some built-in bluntedness. “Mine are dentists. Mum’s taking me to the library after school, want to come?”

-

Before they went into Diagon Alley, Harry asked Hagrid if they could find a payphone. Hermione picked up on the first ring.

“Harry! Where have you been? I’ve been trying and trying to call–”

“Sorry, yeah. Um, so, I’m not coming back to school next year, I…” Harry drifted off, staring at Hagrid’s massive moleskin shoulders. The giant man saw him looking and gave him a tentatively cheerful little wave. “It’s been weird, Herm.” He pressed his forehead into the phone stand, but not too hard. “I think you’re the only thing I’m really going to miss.”

“Harry,” Hermione said and Harry started to frown, because that wasn’t her stern and startled voice. That was the voice that meant she was off down a charging war path of other thought and might not have heard him at all. “I’ve been reading.”

“Of course you’ve been reading,” he said. “I’ve been being forcibly hidden from a swarm of post office owls–”

“You’re in books,” she said in breathless delight, squeaking over the telephone line. “First thing we did, of course, after the professor explained, was get her to escort us to a bookstore– a whole bibliography, Harry, a whole world’s bibliography I haven’t even touched– how am I ever going to–” She took in a little calming breath, and murmured, “Different infinities, it’s okay, Hermione, okay.” A sharp exhale and then she tumbled right back into her rushing rivelet of a sentence. “And I picked up a good dozen, besides the school books, of course, and Harry, you’re in books, in Dark Wizardwork of This Century and A Modern Wizards’ History and October’s End: A Biography–”

“Hermione,” said Harry with slow enunciation. “Are you a wizard, too?”

“A witch, I think,” she said. “But I’m still reading up on the sociology of it all.”

-

Hagrid wouldn’t say Voldemort’s name, but Hermione would. She came over with a stack of books up to her chin, gave the Dursleys her normal pointed little stare that said she’d like to set them a little on fire, and curled up in his cupboard with him.

He supposed she probably could learn how to set them on fire, now, if she really wanted to.

She gave him passages and excerpts with his name in them, with his parents’ names, a home he hadn’t known. There were pictures of a ruined house with the smoke drifting in little curls of ink. There was his mother, smiling and waving in black and white. There was his mother, laid out on the floor, with a sober little caption below it. That picture was still, except for curtains fluttering in the window.

Hermione finally dragged her face far enough up from the pages to see Harry holding his own hand very tightly, and then she closed the book and reached for one about which magical creatures you should pet and which you shouldn’t.

“Sorry,” she said.

“I wanted to know.”

“I’m still sorry.”

-

The Grangers drove Harry, Hermione, Hedwig, and their trunks to King’s Cross Station. Mrs. Granger kissed the top of Hermione’s head while Mr. Granger mussed Harry’s mop of dark hair affectionately, and then they swapped children and repeated the treatment. Hermione pushed her hair back out of her face and marched them all to Platform 9 ¾, the entrance mechanism of which she had read all about.

“Before you go,” Mrs. Granger said, “let’s buy you some sandwiches? I don’t know what sort of food they’ll have past that–”

“There’s a trolley,” Hermione said, but her parents dragged them off to a snack kiosk anyway, Harry happily in tow.

As they were on Hermione’s tight schedule, there were plenty of compartments open, and they took one all to themselves– well, to themselves, Hedwig, and Hermione’s books, which took up two seats. (Harry would wheedle Hagrid into taking him to Diagon Alley for Christmas shopping that year, where he would get Hermione a carry-all bag for her small personal library.)

Hermione took a long preparatory breath while Harry unwrapped his sandwich. “Harry? What if I go and sit down under the Hat and I just sit and sit there, and then it says I’m not a witch at all?” Hermione said, the words getting more squashed together and higher-pitched as she went. “I’m not magic, it just got confused, and they send me home? Harry, I don’t want to be a dentist. Other people’s mouths are disgusting–”

“You’re not going to get kicked out,” Harry said, chewing amiably on his sandwich. It was not good, but the Dursleys hadn’t bothered with any breakfast for him and he hadn’t wanted to bother the Grangers about it either. It was a bit dry on the way down, but it settled warmly in his belly.

“But what if I do?”

“I’ll stage a protest,” said Harry. “Refuse to do my homework til they reinstate you.”

“You’re not going to do your homework anyway.”

“See how dedicated I am to you.”

She made a dismissive little noise at him, wringing her hands in her lap.

“Hermione,” he said, and she lifted her bush of hair to look at him. “You’re the most magical person I know. It’s gonna be alright.”

She gave a long slow blink but whatever she might have said was interrupted by an uneven knock at the door. “Um,” said the pudgy boy standing there. “I’ve lost my toad.”

Hermione leapt to her feet. “Where did you see him last?”

Harry followed in the wake of her forward charge, but he brought the rest of his sandwich with him.

-

(Harry did not know this and would not know this until Mrs. Granger mentioned it casually over a Christmas dinner years and years later– but she and Mr. Granger reported the Dursleys for child abuse and neglect, over and over.

The reports got lost– minds scrubbed down, papers vanished– but they kept calling in reports. They considered kidnapping. They couldn’t imagine why the wizarding world might want to keep their chosen one somewhere so toxic, why they might want to keep this underfed child and his messy hair with those people.

“My mother left me a blood protection spell,” said Harry, whose scar had not ached in years. He poked at his mashed potatoes under the focused attention of Mrs. Granger’s stern little forehead wrinkle. “I had to live with family, blood family.”

“Then they should have made them treat you right,” Mrs. Granger said, as though it was that simple.

Mr. Granger gave Harry another helping of peas.)

-

On the steps of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy thrust out his hand to the Boy Who Lived, who surveyed the open palm with amusement. “Thanks,” said Harry. “But I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself.”

The redheaded, freckly, hand-me-down clothes boy Malfoy had been bothering snorted. Harry slipped his hands into his pockets.

“You’re the kid with the rat from the train,” Hermione said. “And the spell that didn’t work.”

“It was a cool rhyme anyway, though,” Harry said. “Hi, I’m Harry, this is Hermione.”

“Yeah, she said, then. I’m Ron– uh, Ron Weasley.”

“Yeah, he said,” Harry said, rolling his eyes Malfoy’s direction. “Come on, you wanna stand with us? Hermione will tell you about the ceiling.”

“It’s enchanted!” said Hermione.

-

When Hermione founded SPHEW, Harry was not surprised. He had spent too many schoolyard days escorting spiders to safe spaces, keeping vigil over fallen bird’s nests, and watching Hermione stand up on her desk chair in heated pitched verbal battles with teachers. She’d driven at least two teachers to tears and taught most of them at least a few new vocabulary words.

-

Over summers and holidays, Harry and Hermione took Ron to the movies, to the seashore, to Hermione’s top three favorite libraries. Hermione’s Aunt Meg taught them how to whittle under a cloud of cigarette smoke that clung to Harry’s hair until he washed it out.

In this life, there were things in the Muggle world that Harry missed, that he wanted to see again. He loved Hogwarts, and he nominally went home to the Dursleys each summer, but he knew he always had a bed at the Grangers’. He knew the weird system they used to organize the books on their shelves. He’d pass Mrs. Granger the marmalade in mornings before she had to ask. He got free dental check-ups all his life, which was good because the Dursleys rarely bothered taking him into the dentist.

The whole Granger family tore apart newspapers every morning, calling article excerpts across the table and pointing each other to their favorite journalists. Before Hermione even first stepped onto Hogwarts grounds she got a subscription to the Daily Prophet. During Harry’s fourth year, Mr. and Mrs. Granger got Arthur Weasley to buy them an owl and then began an unending campaign of furious letters to the editor that never got published.

-

In a crumbling boat shed, Severus Snape died, but first he pressed a shining bundle of memory into Harry’s hands.

The fight was still going– Neville newly broad and certain; Luna whipping out quiet, barbed little curses; Ginny charging like an army in and of herself. Hermione had her arms full of basilisk fangs. Ron was moving people like bishops and knights. But Harry had a long damp walk before him, so he had time to wade through that life not his own.

Severus had been a lot of things– one of them was in love. Harry dragged his feet through forest mulch, seeing a little redheaded girl in sunlight, hands not his own offering her transformed flowers. It had been just them for so long. For Severus, for so long, there had been no one but him and Lily.

Even in Hogwarts, Severus had drifted through the classrooms and common room and library. He had believed in magic, in the cool slide of good knives through dried roots, and in Lily– always, always in Lily– Lily in sunlight, Lily chewing on her thumbnail over Transfiguration homework, Lily flicking soapsuds at him in her kitchen at home over summer, Lily pig-tailed and seven, wide-eyed as he showed her the first magic she’d ever seen, a leaf to a flower, a bit of sunlight to a bit of fire.

He had loved, and it had been a real thing. He had fucked up, and it had been a real thing, that heartbreak, that regret.

When Harry turned the Stone in his hand and saw his mother step into pseudo-life in that forest clearing, he thought I wish I’d known you. He thought about how she was in sepia and gray, here, just like in the pictures in the pages of Hermione’s books.

But he was also thinking about Severus. He was remembering Lily in sunlight, remembering her walking away, remembering her in that same cold photographed sprawl but in color–in grief–in bruised knees and heaving gasps.

Severus had been the first to find Lily’s body and it had felt like someone had cut the sunlight out of him. Harry was living through that grief, but he was also living through the wail of the child crying unacknowledged. His tiny pudgy hands were wrapped around the guardrail of his crib.

Harry was thinking about a girl standing in a field like a statue, hands on hips. He was thinking about Hermione’s raised hand ignored in Potions, or the way Snape had sneered that he didn’t see a difference in her cursed teeth. Love had made him brave, perhaps. It had killed him, but it had not made Severus good.

Harry wondered if his mother would have escorted spiders to safe places, if she would have stood guard over fallen bird’s nests, if she had worried herself to pieces that first time on the Hogwarts Express about the Hat telling her she didn’t really belong.

“I wish I’d known you,” he told the specter of Lily Potter. He held his own hands tight.

For Harry, for so long, there had been no one but him and Hermione. Even in Hogwarts, there were things only she would understand– parking meters, the cobweb ceiling of his cupboard, the silence of marmalade at breakfast. Harry believed in magic and he believed Hermione Granger was the most magical thing he knew.

“They’ll be alright,” he said. “I’ll be alright. I was alright, mum. I wish I’d known you– but I wasn’t alone.” He squeezed his hands tighter– Hermione showing him her favorite spots in her favorite libraries; Ron shyly showing them the Burrow like it was anything less than a magnificent masterpiece of warm rooms and patchwork architecture; Hermione standing in the field like a statue, bushy-haired and seven years old, jaw set. “She wasn’t alone, either,” he said. “And she’ll be alright. Ron will be alright. I have to do this, don’t I?”

“We are so proud of you,” Lily said.

“Thanks,” said Harry. “Sorry,” said Harry, and wondered if Hermione was going to be able to read the little passages and excerpts with his name in them, with those un-moving pictures and the sober captions underneath.

He dropped the Stone.

-

When Harry Potter died for the first time, crumpled in forest mulch, he didn’t go to a squeaky clean King’s Cross Station. There were no crescent moon glasses to twinkle kindly at him.

He stood under an old olive tree and a little girl looked up at him with those eyes that needed shielding, needed blunting, needed a manufacturer’s warning. “A wind’s coming,” she said. “You can just go. It will be easy.”

He stood outside Diagon Alley, a Muggle payphone tucked between his shoulder and ear. “You’re in books,” she said, with a breathlessness he’d barely heard for years. There had been too much weight on his shoulders, on hers. “You’re done,” she said. “You’ve done enough. Go on, tap three bricks up and two to the left.”

He stood in Godric’s Hollow, in the snow, holding her hand, looking at the ruined house. “You should have had this,” she said. She was seven and small, not nineteen and weary like she had been in life. The sky was overcast but there was sunlight glinting in her hair. “You can still have this. You can have everything.”

“You’re not real,” Harry said.

“But you are,” she said. “There’s a wind coming. It will be easy.”

“You’ve never done anything easy in your life,” he said.

She took both his hands– hers were so small against his grown fingers, his broad palms, and how had they done everything with hands that small? Basilisks and werewolves; shouting down teachers from atop desk chairs.

Harry was sitting in his cupboard in the light of its single bulb and he was too big for this space, his shoulders curling forward, his head bowing. She was standing there with sunlight still in her hair and her arms piled high with books. “You don’t belong here,” she said. “It will hurt. You won’t fit, if you go back. Everything can be easy. Everything can be fine. It doesn’t have to hurt, ever again.”

“Hermione,” he said and leaned forward, put his hands on her hands where they were gripping her books. “It’ll be alright.” He smiled and she was staring at him with those eyes, those goddamn eyes. “We never fit, remember?”

“We tried,” she said and Harry squeezed her small hands gently.

“Send me back,” he said. “I want to go home.”

-

After the battle, as Hogwarts rang with frantic healing, crushing grief, and raging celebration, the three of them retreated to the library. Hermione hauled them down narrow aisles until she found her favorite tucked-away nook and they all collapsed on sagging sofas that seemed to not have been touched at all by the war.

“Well,” said Hermione. “What now?”

Ron let his head flop back against the seat, hair tumbling all over his pale forehead. “I’m going to nap,” he said. “For a month.”

“That’s not physiologically possible,” said Hermione. “Or if it is, then it’d be a coma.”

“It’s a metaphor,” Ron said, then: “no, wait, a hyperbole.” Hermione beamed at him. He blushed a little and elbowed her gently.

“After this, you’ll be in books, you know,” Harry told her.

“Not– I mean–” Hermione rubbed at her nose furiously. Ron laughed enough to wake up and sit up, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

While Ron came up with outlandish titles for Hermione’s eventual many biographies, Harry pulled his feet up onto the sofa. He watched the candles float quietly between the shelves.

hey um. consider a stevens university au where the gems actually react realistically to steven bubbling bismuth:

  • pearl shrieks “you did WHAT?” and slaps a hand over her mouth, looking horrified
  • garnet clenches her fists and has to take a deep breath
  • she kneels down and holds steven’s shoulders and says “i know you were scared, and i’m sorry that we put you in that situation. sometimes we forget that you’re a child and there’s still so much we haven’t told you about the war. steven, bismuth wasn’t wrong to want to shatter the diamonds. the diamonds aren’t like you or me. what they’ve done… they deserve to be shattered. now, let’s unbubble bismuth, and then we can talk, okay?”
  • then they unbubble bismuth
  • she’s confused and angry; she didn’t think she’d come back so soon after the last time. there are tears in her eyes.
  • garnet and pearl wrap her in a hug as soon as she comes out
  • steven apologizes to her for poofing her and bismuth says “it’s okay, steven. i know now that you’re not rose quartz. my anger at her shouldn’t stop us from being friends.” steven holds out a hand to shake hers and she pulls him into a hug instead.
  • then they sit down on the floor and the gems tell steven about the war and about rose shattering pink diamond.
  • bismuth stays a member of the crystal gems and steven has the chance to learn more about his and his mother’s history!
  • (bonus: amethyst is feeling left out by all of this and when they sit down, she goes to sit on the couch instead, but bismuth grabs her hand and says “where are you going, girl? you’re a crystal gem too! come sit down next to me.”)

anonymous asked:

so, um. if you have any particular feelings about labyrinth--specifically Sarah--uh, go wild.

WILD PEACHES  [AO3]

.

The morning after Sarah Williams defeats the Goblin King, she gets up and makes toast. She has to brush some glitter off the toaster—it withers and vanishes at the brush of her fingertips, and she stares at her hand for a long time. 

It mostly just looks like her hand. Even when she turns it over, and sees where she scraped her knuckles against the oubliette, where the shattered mirror cut the back of her wrist. It looks like she fell, or was playing in the street. That’s all.

The toast comes out burned, and Sarah stares at that too. Eventually, she slumps down against the cabinets and cries, wracking sobs that send her dad and Karen rushing into kitchen. They check her forehead for a fever, put their hands on her, and keep asking, “Are you okay? Sarah, please, tell us what’s wrong…”

Eventually, her dad drags her into his lap and cradles her against his chest, like he did when she was little. Her legs are too long to really fit anymore, but Sarah hugs him around the neck anyway. “It’ll be okay,” he says, keeps saying. “You’ll be okay.” And Sarah—doesn’t laugh, because she can’t, and doesn’t have the words to express what—how—

(None of her stories ever talked about this. What did Sir George do, the morning after he slayed the last dragon in England? Did Tam Lin eat breakfast, or did he sit there, shivering, wondering if his hands were different, having been claws and wings and scales?)

Afterwards, she leaves the burnt toast outside on the back porch. Not an offering. Maybe a reminder.

.

It’s Didymus she sees the most often, mostly because he’s the one who invites himself rather than waiting for an invitation. He comes for tea, but even if there’s no tea—which there isn’t, usually—he comes to tell Sarah stories. She learns to love poetry because there’s no escaping it with him. (She won’t read Idylls of the King until Brit Lit in college, but she ends up scrawling a lot in the margins; Didymus’ telling of events had been much more interesting.)

Once, she falls asleep like that, her hands tucked behind her head with Didymus curled up and sleepily reciting from the crook of her elbow. “So tender was her voice, so fair her face—though I don’t think he was looking at her face, my lady, pardon me for saying so—”

Sarah buries her nose in his fur. Didymus always smells of rosewater, and a crispness she thinks is just…the Labyrinth. She falls asleep trying to place it.

She wakes up with a wild fox in her bed, animal-black eyes frightened and flat, teeth bared. The fox is whining, and she’s tempted to throw herself across the room, to get away from this wild thing and its teeth. It takes a monumental will to keep herself still and her breathing slow, even; like she’s still asleep and unafraid. 

It takes her longer to swallow, and start humming one of the songs he taught her—a knight’s round, he’d said. She’s shaky at first, but the fox’s ears flick forward. It cocks its head, and slowly, the teeth disappear behind its lips. 

She almost laughs when noses at her throat curiously, butting its head against her jaw like a cat might.

Keep reading

||| Part One ||| Part Two ||| Part Three ||| 


“It’s, um, Peter, right?”

Peter’s head snapped up at the sound of his name. Kind of shocked to see [Y/N] standing in front of him and Ned, he lost his grip on the table. Catching himself before he fell face first into their project, he cleared his throat, “Uh, yeah, yeah, uh, that’s me. Peter….”

“Nice, dude.” Ned snickered. 

Flashing his friend a dirty look, he quickly turned back towards [Y/N]. She was awkwardly standing in front of their workshop table, he could sense that she was a bit nervous. “Did you need something?” He asked with a smile. 

[Y/N]’s cheeks turned a little tinge of pink, something that had never happened to Peter. He had never made a girl blush before. Looking down at her feet, she bit her lip. “Yeah, actually I do. Um, well, how do I put this.” She looked back up at Peter’s confused expression. “I’m about to fail this class.”

“No fucking way.” Ned gasped, “You’re like the smartest girl in this school.” 

Peter clenched his jaw, closing his eyes. “Ned.” He warned. 

Ned shrugged, “What? She is. I don’t think she’s ever failed a class. It’s just shocking, that’s all.” 

Peter shook his head, giving Ned a look to shut up. Turning to face [Y/N] again, he gently raised a brow. “And you need me to?” 

Taking a deep breath, she pointed to Ned, “I actually failed Spanish in middle school by the way but,” looking at Peter, she exhaled in defeat. “not trying to exploit your mechanical genius or anything but Mr. Harding said if I can come up with at least three projects that can move, speak, and think on its own, he won’t fail me and give me a passing grade.” Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, she bit her lip. “I’ve come up with the first two…kind of, not really but the last one I can’t seem to figure out. And I was wondering if you could help….me.” 

Ned’s eyes widened as he smiled. Slapping Peter on the back, he cheered out. “OF course he can!”

[Y/N] gave Ned a peculiar look, “I appreciate you speaking for Peter, Ned. But, it’s not your time that I’d be wasting. I’m completely helpless when it comes to wiring. I just don’t understand.”

Peter watched her babble on about her inability to mechanically engineer things. He couldn’t help but smile, she was kind of cute when she panicked. She was one of those girls that never talked much outside her circle of friends and seemed unbelievably shy. He could relate to her. 

“I’ll do it.” Peter said, cutting off her ramble of paying him too. Shaking his head, he crossed his arms, smiling. “You don’t have to pay me. We can trade services. I help you with your project and you help me study for the History exam.” 

Her eyes lit up, “Really?”

Nodding, “Yeah, definitely.”

Reaching into her totebag, she tore a piece of paper from her notebook and scribbled down her number. “You seriously have no idea how much this means to me, Peter!” Handing him her number, she gave a shy smile. “Just, uh, um, text me whenever you figure out your schedule and I’ll rearrange mine.” Backing up slowly, she started to blush again, “I should get back, my partner’s probably wondering where I am.” 

Peter looked down at the number and smiled. “Yeah, I’ll text you after school.” Sticking in his pocket, he looked back down at his project.

Ned leaned in, “Dude, did that just happen?” 

“Shut up, Ned.” Peter rolled his eyes. 

“No seriously, did it? Because I’m pretty sure that it didn’t. [Y/N] is like the most underrated girl in our school. She’s so pretty that she doesn’t even know she’s pretty.” 

Squinting his eyes, Peter looked at Ned, “What does that even mean?” 

Squeezing his arm, Ned squealed out. “It means you have a chance dude.” 

Peter shook his head and glanced across the room. He chuckled silently at [Y/N] desperately trying to understand what her partner was telling her. Ned had a point, she was extremely pretty and he could bet she didn’t even know her worth. Looking back down at their open wires, he shrugged, “Yeah maybe.” 

“Nice.” Bumping Peter to do their little hand shake, Ned whispered. “Liz Allen who, whaaat?” 


||| Part One ||| Part Two ||| Part Three ||| 

Something about Fate

Dean decides to go to a new psychic in town - just for the hell of it, of course - with his roommate Castiel, and doesn’t get the reading he was expecting.

~5.2k

AO3

“Hey, Cas, have you ever been to a psychic?”

Dean watched as Castiel looked up from his book with his eyebrows pinched together.

“No.” A pause. “Why do you ask?”

Dean shrugged.

“Garth texted me. Apparently there’s one in town that he went to yesterday and he’s obsessed. He said she really knows her stuff.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow before returning his attention to the textbook he had sprawled across their kitchen counter, so he could eat and study at the same time - a sight that was not all that uncommon in their apartment.

“Psychics don’t exists, Dean,” he said, matter-of-factly, as he turned the page. “People who claim to be psychic are scammers hoping to draw in the desperate or the gullible. Garth is the latter, I’m afraid.”

“Hey, he’s not -”

“Remember when Gabriel told him that stop signs with a white rim around them were optional?”

Dean rolled his eyes and pulled out a stool on the opposite side of the counter from his roommate.

“Duh, Cas. I know that they aren’t legit. Everyone does. But at the very least they’re supposed to be super good at reading people and then you essentially pay them to tell you what their first impression of you is.”

A small smile crept its way across Castiel’s face.

“I could tell you that for free, you know.”

Dean flipped him off as he got up and pulled out an apple from the refrigerator, not even bothering to look back as he did so.

“Whatever. I think it could be kind of cool.”

“Then by all means…” Castiel wrote something down in a notepad and flipped to the next page. “I think you should do it. I have free time tomorrow if you’d like to find this psychic then.”

Dean tossed the apple between his hands.

“You’d come with me?”

“Of course. I would never miss the opportunity to witness someone predicting your death.”

Castiel laughed as Dean flipped him off again.

Keep reading

DEAR EVAN HANSEN BOOTLEG MOMENTS

FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVEN’T SEEN THE BEAUTY THAT IS THE BOOTLEG, HERE ARE SOME CUTE MOMENTS also I don’t mention every song because some of them are still amazing songs but not any different on stage

Anybody Have a Map?: Evan tells this whole story before the song starts about how he had the perfect chance to talk to Zoe but he was worried his hands were sweaty so he tried to dry them under a bathroom hand dryer and now they were warm AND sweaty and it’s really funny and cute. Also, when you meet Connor and his dad and Zoe go “He’s probably high / he’s definatley high” Connor yells “FUCK YOU” and lays his head on the table and his mom says “Oh he isn’t high” and he just slowly looks up and theres a really awkward silence before she yells “I DON’T WANT YOU GOING TO SCHOOL HIGH, CONNOR”

Waving Through A Window: Before this song Connor shoves Evan down because Jared called Connor a freak and Evan laughed about it. That’s about it for this song, the rest was just as it was on the soundtrack. There is a part, though, when Connor signs his cast, where he asks how Evan broke his arm and when Evan tells him he fell out of a tree Connor laughs and says “Well that’s just about the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

For Forever: When he says “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, and I say, me too!” He points at nobody like he’s talking to Connor

Sincerely Me: When Connor says “I rub my nipples and start moaning in delight” he starts VICIOUSLY rubbing the front of his jacket and he throws his head back and keeps his mouth open the whole time Jared and Evan talk. And then before Evans part he’s freaking out and Jared is trying to calm him down and Evan goes “I’M NOT HYPERVENTALATINGDear Connor Murphy, yes I also miss our talks” and then later when Connor sings “Dear Evan Hansen, thanks for every note you send!” He’s play punching Evan and then Evan sings “Dear Connor Murphy, I’m just glad to be your friend!” But he’s anxiously trying not to touch Connor and is just squatting and looking so anxious

If I Could Tell Her: Evan doesn’t know what to do with his hands and he keeps trying to rub the sweat off on his pants and I relate

Sincerely Me, Reprise: THIS A SONG NOT ON THE SOUNDTRACK SO I’LL EXPLAIN it’s a song where Jared is trying to write more emails and he tries to make it look like he was also friends with Connor but Evan interrupts him like “Um, no no no” and is really rude to him about it but there’s lines like “You know that guy at school, Jared Kleinman? THAT TOTALLY COOL JARED KLEINMAN”

To Break In a Glove: Connors dad says “You’re dad must be proud of you” and Evan says “Yeah, he is” before saying “I don’t know why I said that, my dad left when I was seven, I’m not his priority.” And Connors dad looks so heartbroken for him

The other songs are really good and they do so well on stage (it’s broadway so duh) but they’re more intense than cute and they don’t have moments not in the soundtrack that much. Hey, message me for the link so you can see the moments I didn’t mention

Lena give Kara a charge card

Lena and Kara are on one of their totally-platonic-friends-nonstop-flirting dates.

K: Must be nice to be able to travel like that. Seeing all those place.
L: *Digging in her purse* where would you like to go?
K: I dunno. Ireland. New Zealand…you know, that’s where Xena and Lord of the Rings were filmed?
L: *still rummaging in her purse, but chuckling* you are such a nerd. But adorable. Why don’t you go? I’m sure you could get the time off.
K: *blushes and adjusts her glasses* Um..it’s tough to get away.
L: *pursing her lips, starting to remove items from her purse and setting them on the table* oh, I’m sure it is.
K: Lena, what are you looking for?
L: *laughs triumphantly, holding up a credit card* This!
L: *handing the credit card over to Kara* here
K: *confused, but takes the offered card* what…?
L: *putting everything back in her bag, setting it on the ground, crossing her arms on the table, and looking directly into Kara’s eyes* That is a charge card.
K: *rolls here eyes* yeah I know. Why are you giving it to me?
L: *smirks* look at it.
K: *looks at the card, more confused* why does it have my name on it?
L: It’s yours. I added you to my account.
K: *growing more confused by the minute* What? Why?
L: *waves on hand vaguely in the air* well I figured you probably go through a lot of shirts. So I thought I would help you keep replenishing them.
K: *hesitating* What are you talking about?
L: *grins and mimes ripping her shirt open*

Peter Parker Imagine

Requested: Anonymous

Imagine:  can you do a peter parker imagine where you’re going to a haunted house with peter and some friends. peter didn’t want to go at first but when he heard you were going, he was in. you all go to the haunted house and a guy in the group was flirting with you trying to act all manly and brave and stuff. peter gets really jealous and wants you all to himself so he ‘accidentally’ locks you in the same room as him. he confesses his feelings with you and you confess yours. thx so much i love ur writing!

A/N: thanks anon! you are a sweetie!! || it’s long ;3

Warning: None


 You walked around the corner with a smile on your face and your hair in perfect condition. You’ve been looking for Peter for the past five minutes, you wanted him to see how good you looked today. As you looked around, you spotted him talking with your friends. You gave yourself a silent, ‘yes!’ of excitement. He was talking with your friends, which was a good sign because they were your excuse to talk with Peter.

 You fix your hair up one last time and take a deep breath. Before you knew it, you were off. When you reached the group, Peter was the first one to greet you. Everybody greeted you afterwards, you glanced at Peter who kept staring at you. You were freaking out on the inside, he must’ve thought you looked good.

‘’So.. What were you guys talking about?’’ you ask, trying to spark up a conversation.

‘’Oh. We were inviting him to going to the haunted house with us tomorrow, but he doesn’t want to go.’’ judy explains.

‘’Yeah. Haunted houses aren’t really my thing.’’ peter shrugs.

‘’Aw man, that’s to bad. I was going to go tomorrow night.’’ you sigh.

 Peter gasped in surprise. He pulled out his phone almost immediately and started to tap his fingers rapidly on his screen. Everybody in the group exchanged glances, wondering what he was doing. Peter soon threw his phone back into his pocket and looked up at you.

‘’I actually had plans for tomorrow night that’s why I couldn’t go. But it seemed that they cancelled the plans so I’m free. I’ll go.’’ peter says.

‘’But I thought you said haunted houses weren’t real-’’

‘’Forget what I said! I’ll be there!’’ peter exclaims.

 Before you could respond, the bell rang and Peter ran off into the big crowd that was forming. You watched as he rushed off, you bit your lip and smiled. He was going and it was going to be a blast.

‘’Y’know Y/N. I think he’s just going because you’re going.’’ judy comments.

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sex bomb

Harry works at lush and you’re a writer 

masterlist x

a/n : I hope you guys really like this story. I worked really hard and this story means a lot to me. So if anything I would really like some feedback and what you guys think of it. Thank you

 Today wasn’t the best day of work, sitting at a desk all day and answering phone calls from very impatient rude people isn’t fun. When I drive out of the parking lot and onto the road my mind starts to check off the list of things I have to do when I get home. Cook dinner, feed the cat and do the laundry. Right before I get on the freeway I decide to stop by the little strip mall that is right across the street. I turn and pull in and park right in front of 7-Eleven, I decide to grab myself a treat just to maybe calm my nerves a bit for the rest of the day. I walk out and jog up to the front door, I yank the door open and stride right up to the freezer. I looked at all the types of ice cream bars they had, Snickers, Twix and Hershey. I decide to get a Snickers bar and pull it out of its case. I walk through the aisles searching for anything else that may grab my attention. I decide to not get much more and head up to the front counter to pay for everything. The cashier rings everything up and I hand him the money, he hands me my bag and say thank you. I reach for the door and walk out to the sidewalk, i start to walk to my car when I look to my left and notice a wonderful smell coming towards me. I decide to have a look and to see where it is coming from. When I start to walk and notice that it is coming from this one store that is called lush, never heard of it before. I walk in and decide to have a look around to see what they have.

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FP Jones/Andrew’s Family/Riverdale imagines - Oh Dear Part 4

Originally posted by riverdales-daily

AN: I decided to post this earlier than I originally said and I’m also Sorry for the cliff hanger last part! This chapter is a little messy but I hope you like it and things are going to start picking up from now on!

Catch up: (Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three)

Overall Summary: You’re Archie’s old sister and you have a thing for a certain serpent

Pairing: Reader x FP Jones, Sister!Reader x Archie Andrews, Daughter!Reader x Fred Andrews

Word count: 2,323

Warnings: Well, FP is clearly older than the reader in this fic, none really

**Incoming call: FP Jones**

You frowned at the unexpected call. It hadn’t been long since you left the bar, why would FP call you? 

You heard Jughead’s voice from down the hall, he had only just got home, and you moved towards your window on the other end of the room. 

“Hello?” You answered quietly, cautious that Jughead was just down the hall. 

“I need you to come to the trailer park.” FP said immediately. You knew you should have ask ‘why’ and ‘was everything okay?’ but you just said you were on your way and then hung up. 

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anonymous asked:

can you do a fic or imagine where josh is late to someone's funeral (like a family member or something) and realizes he wants to bring flowers so on his way he steals some from the readers garden!!! fluff if you can :) love you tay xoxo

JOSH DUN IMAGINE

Warnings: death mention, poor sappy sad josh. 

Note: I’m so sorry that I take so long to update and write. I’ve been in a bad place lately, but I’m trying to pull out of it. You guys are the best, thanks for sticking with me through all this stuff and being so supportive!! honestly idek what this is, I wrote this half asleep all while eating an unhealthy amount of pasta, so please excuse the inevitable typos that you will find. But anyway here’s a kinda sad, kinda fluffy mess of a fic. 

Josh is late. In every sense of the word, he is so late. He’s even still in his work uniform, grey polo shirt scratching uncomfortably under his rain jacket. His hands are freezing and he doesn’t even have any flowers. Ashley is going to be so mad.

He’s power walking, well aware he probably looks like a mom tracking down six kids in a crowded mall (thinking of that makes his heart clench in his chest). There’s one more street to walk down–he refuses to drive there, it makes it feel too real. He stuffs shaking hands in his pockets and turns the corner.

Josh doesn’t have flowers. He’s visiting for the first time since it happened, he’s late, and he doesn’t have flowers.

He’s a block away when he sees them, the roses growing almost chaotically over a small light pink fence. He stops and looks down at them, then around. No one’s watching, so he crouches and picks a decent handful, murmuring a few sorries as the stems snap. He notes the house number and reminds himself to write a thank you note before standing up and continuing on his way.

Everyone’s already there when Josh arrives, eyes watery from the wind. Ashley gives him a look that would’ve been terrifying if not for the red around her eyes, and Josh mouths his apology while passing out hugs.

With a deep breath he crouches and places the six roses at the base of the polished stone. “Hi, mum.” Josh whispers, pressing a kiss into his hand and then to her name. “Sorry I’m late.”

I miss you. I stole these flowers for you, the old lady they belong to probably noticed already. My boss gave me a few extra sick days because she knows. I’m tired of everyone knowing. I love you.

It happens seven times in the course of two months, and Josh really doesn’t mean to make it a habit, but he can never seem to remember the flowers until he’s well on his way, and there are so many of them in the garden that he hardly feels bad. He never got around to writing the note.

He’s sitting in front of the grave with a bunch of daisies. “The girls miss you.” Josh says quietly, arranging the flowers nicely along the stone. The white is almost too bright to look at. “We all miss you, mum.” He whispers, feeling a tear run down his cheek. “Today at work a girl brought in her therapy dog. She was behind the counter with me and her dog—I can’t remember it’s name, but it spent the whole time licking my shoe. Reckon he knows, too? Anyway, it was nice. Maybe I should get a dog.”

Josh never means to cry but he always ends up doing it. It takes about twenty minutes for him to be able to breathe again, then he says goodbye and walks the three blocks to his car.

He usually visits once a week, sometimes one of his sisters comes with him. If it’s Abigail, they go get ice cream after. If it’s Ashley, which it usually is, they get coffee and don’t talk about it.

It’s running on month six when Josh sees her. He’s holding a beautiful bunch of chrysanthemums by his side, when he notices that there’s someone in the window holding the curtain aside. They make eye contact, and Josh feels very guilty. She doesn’t look angry, although there’s a noticeable furrow between her eyebrows. She’s wearing a cotton bathrobe and holding a mug of coffee. Josh could use some coffee.

He doesn’t know what to do, so he just smiles and holds up the flowers. Then turns on his heels and walks as quickly as he can.

“It’s not an old lady, mum, it’s a girl. She saw me today, caught me red handed.” Josh mumbles, laughing a bit to himself as he clears away some old flowers and places the new ones. “She didn’t do anything though, so I think I’m okay.” His voice cracks as he says it, and then, as usual, starts crying.

It takes two more times for the rightful owner of the flowers to confront Josh about his thievery.

Josh’s on his knees, picking some cute purple flowers when he hears her voice.

“Um, hello?” Josh nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Oh shit.” Josh says, looking up and feeling his heart sink. “Right. I’m sorry I just–your flowers are very nice.”

She smiles and crosses her hands over her chest. “Thank you.”

Josh’s still kneeling, hands shaking where they’re holding stems. She has long, dark hair and a sort of crooked smile on her face. Neither of them are saying anything. She’s wearing an old shirt with a hole near the hem. Josh’s hands are sweating.

“You know, if you’re going to steal my flowers to take to your girl, I think I’m going to have to come with you to make sure she’s beautiful enough to warrant theft.” She says, oddly calm and good natured.

Josh doesn’t know what to say. He just nods, trying to ease the panic rising in his chest.

“Add a few roses.” She orders, and Josh nods, picking a few and standing up, finally. “I’m Y/N, by the way.“ She says, extending a hand.

Josh smiles and shakes it. “Josh.” She smiles at him one more time and then they start to walk.

She pesters him with questions about his imaginary girlfriend, and Josh tries to answer them in the vaguest way possible, all the while trying to figure out how the hell he’s going to explain this when they get to the cemetery.

“Did she like the daisies you picked last time? I always thought those were more of a flower you give your mum, but I guess they’re nice.” she babbles, and Josh almost chokes.

“Yeah, um. Yeah.” he says, his heart racing in his chest. The small side entrance is only a few meters away, and she still has no idea. Josh doesn’t say anything as he walks through the gate, holding it open for her, who immediately stops talking as well.

The silence feels like a heavy blanket, and she just follows Josh as he makes the walk now committed to memory. Josh almost forgets she’s there, dropping to the probably permanently grass stained knees of his jeans and managing a smile. “Hi mum.” He places the flowers around the base of the stone, like he always does. Josh jolts when he feels a hand on his thigh, near his knee. He follows the arm up and meets her green eyes. Josh hadn’t noticed her kneel, too.

“Josh…” she whispers, obviously surprised. Josh doesn’t blame her.

“Don’t.” he says quietly, sniffling and looking away from him. “I brought someone with me. She’s the one I’ve been stealing all the flowers from.” Josh says, smiling a bit and he hears Y/N mumble a soft hello. “She hasn’t called the cops on me yet, which I guess is good.”

He takes a shaky breath before getting choked up. He puts his face in his hands and this was always just a part of his agenda, but the arm around his shoulders is new.

She starts talking.

“The first time I was sitting in my kitchen and I was like oh god do not pick the hibiscuses, they’ve got bees. But he didn’t, he chose some tulips instead.“ she laughs a little, and Josh almost starts crying again. “Between us, I hope he never stops.” she whispers, and Josh knows he wasn’t meant to hear it. There’s a lot he wasn’t meant to do.

Josh sniffles loudly and sits up to wipe his eyes. Her arm is still around his shoulders. “I’m sorry.” he says out of habit, as he’s been doing every time anyone’s seen him cry since October. She just shakes her head and uses a thumb to wipe a stray tear.

“Don’t apologize.” She says, and puts her hand back on her own lap. Josh wants to tell her to put it back. “I’ll um, give you some privacy.” She says, standing up and brushing her jeans off. “And, Josh, you’re welcome to my flowers anytime.” She says, giving him a bright smile before walking away.

Josh doesn’t watch her walk away. He turns back to the gravestone and sighs. “She’s kinda nice isn’t she mum?”

Josh can almost hear his mum yelling at him. Don’t be stupid, dear, go after her.

He kisses his hand and presses it agains the warming stone. “I love you.” He gets up, not bothering to dust off his knees and all but sprints back out to the sidewalk. Josh jogs down the road and turns the corner, smiling when he sees her walking peacefully down the street.

“Hey!” Josh yells, picking up to a run. She turns, and stops walking, looking surprised that Josh is running after her.  

“Let me, um, buy you lunch.” he says breathlessly.  “Figure I owe you one, since I’ve been stealing your flowers for months.“

She smiles and nods.  “Yeah, I guess that’a fair payback.”

They talk as they walk to her pick of café, and Josh feels lighter than he has in months.

They walk back to Y/N’s, and she makes Josh promise to close his eyes as she grabs the spare key. It’s painfully adorable.

“Wanna, um come in?” she asks, looking down at her feet as she says it. Josh’s cheeks go hot at that, being suddenly floored by how pretty she really is.

“I-” Josh starts, before checking his watch,. “Really need to be heading home.” He tries not to let the way her face falls hurt his feelings too bad. “I have work in like, an hour, so.” he explains, and she nods.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Maybe another time.” she says, eyes wide and hopeful.

Josh grins. "Definitely. I’ll call you–or you’ll see me in your garden, either one.” He throws in a wink and leans in to peck her cheek before turning and walking down the street to his car.  At the corner he turns and finds Y/N still standing in her doorway.

It was not a good day. Josh has been avoiding sleep because every time he closes his eyes at night,  he can’t stop picturing the time he showed his mum how he could climb the tree in the backyard. He fell on the second branch and skinned his shin and elbow. She patched him up and bought him ice cream, and then they watched movies until Josh fell asleep against her on the couch.

He sighs and presses the heels of his palms into his eyes. He’d stopped crying about an hour ago, now he’s just staring at his ceiling with his eyes burning. It’s four thirty. Sleep is definitely out of the picture, so Josh grabs his keys and does the only thing he can think of.

He picks seven roses on his way, hops the fence, and finds he can still cry, forehead pressed against cold stone.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there for, but when he opens his eyes, the sky is more grey than black. “Fuck.” He curses and rubs at his stinging eyes. “Sorry for swearing,” He whispers, laughing a bit. “I’ll be back soon, I love you.”

He stands.  It’s about to be five in the morning, and Josh really can’t see himself driving all the way back home. He doesn’t quite know what to do as he walks back, but then he sees the garden, and finds himself knocking on the door.

It takes a few, but Y/N does open the door, hair a mess, grey sweats hanging low on her hips. “Josh,” She says, surprised. “What are you doing here babe?” she asks softly.

“Couldn’t sleep. Needed some flowers.” he mumbles, blinking a few times to try and get rid of the blurriness creeping across his eyes. “Can I come in?”

“Yes, of course.” she says without missing a beat, and Josh sighs, relieved. He toes off his sneakers at the door and lets Y/N lead him through the house.  He can tell that Y/N wants to ask, but doesn’t.

In fact, she doesn’t say anything, and Josh finds that oddly comforting, she just sits next to Josh on the couch and keeps her hands curled in her lap.  

“I took some roses again this morning,” Josh admits.

“What color?” is all she responds with.

“The white.”

“That’s the best kind,” she assures him. You can keep helping yourself to those.” she says, leaning over and poking into Josh’s side. “Think of it as my gift to your mum, too.”

That makes Josh tear up a bit.

“I should go,” he says, not wanting to start crying in front of her for a second time.  

“Oh,” she says, sounding almost disappointed.  “Right— okay.”

Josh stands up, his chest feeling tight and his thoughts racing.  But in the midst of the chaos, he hears her voice.  Clear as day; the reason behind his messy, illogical mind. Don’t be stupid, dear, go after her.

Josh turns suddenly then, and takes a step closer to Y/N, so he can hold her hands in his own. “Can I take you to breakfast right now?”

She beams at him, dimples drilled into her cheeks as she nods in agreement. She hurriedly finds shoes and a jacket, stopping at the door to lock the door before following Josh out. They walk to his car hand in hand, and it all feels so right.

They get pancakes, and Josh kisses the whip cream off her lips. People give them looks as they laugh obnoxiously and fond over one another. Josh doesn’t care.

He wakes up the next morning in a bed that isn’t his own and to the smell of bacon. He smiles to himself. “Are you ever going to let me make you breakfast?” he asks, laughing a little when he sees Y/N standing in front of the stove.

“Maybe, if you ever wake up before me.” she says, looking over her shoulder and smiling at Josh.

They sit down to eat breakfast on Y/N‘s couch, blanket pulled over both of them, and it’s home.

Matchmaker - Cody Christian AU Imagine

Warnings:SMUT,swearing,daddy kink,jealous Cody,ass slapping,hand tying,m+f oral,fake tweet,fluff.

A/N: Enjoy xx and Happy Valentines Day or as I like to call it “Another thing to remind me i’m Single AF” 

y/n; your name

y/u/n; your username

MASTERLIST


Lisa: Hi guys were back on Clevver Tv’s Valentines day special with the cast of Teen Wolf * Lisa smiled*

Lisa: So Cody our sources yell us you’re off the market and have been for some time now, is that true?

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Fragments - Part 8

Word Count: 3488

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of being roofied? 

Fragments Masterlist


“Y/N!” Donna beamed so bright her smile could light up the night sky.

You smiled and pushed your hair behind your ear. “I uh…I got your message and I thought since I was close I’d stop in…unless it’s a bad time…”

“Never a bad time for you, get in here!” She practically pulled you inside, yanking you into a bone-crushing hug. “Dean called and said you were alive, I didn’t believe him, but here you are.”

“Here I am.”

“So…wanna get blingo’d, eat a buncha junk food, and have a girl’s night?”

“God, yes.” You smiled. “I see why we’re friends.”

Donna opened her home to you and let you use her shower while she ordered all kinds of take out. She laughed it off when you told her you had no idea what foods you liked best and said she’d take good care of you. You trusted her in that regard.

You walked out of the bathroom, your hair thrown up in a messy ponytail, wearing a pair of sweatpants and one of Dean’s flannels you’d stolen. Donna gave you a knowing smirk as you sat down next to her on the couch, peering into one of the takeout bags. “That’s Dean’s. Smells just like ‘em.” She laughed. “You take it or did he give it to ya?”

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Strangers

Originally posted by betty-and-jughead

a/n: okay so I actually think I did well on this one so…im happy with it :)) btw if you want I might turn this into a series…so if you want me to, feel free to ask :)

summary: You move back to Riverdale, expecting a fresh start. Slowly realizing, somethings and some people don’t change.

word count: 670

“Okay, so…here’s the bathrooms. The classrooms. The cafeteria. And here you have the newsroom. Which is fairly new… I kind of brought it back…not to brag or anything”, Betty says, lightly giggling. “Ok, that’s basically it, I guess. So I’ll hopefully be seeing you more often”, she said with a warm, welcoming smile. You responded with a small smile and a nod.

“Um…yeah sure…”, you said hesitantly. It has only been three years since last time you have been there, yet everything felt different to you. Hopefully, some people changed too.

As you were walking to your next class, looking at your schedule, you felt something hard crash into you.

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anonymous asked:

How do you think Tracer and Widowmaker would be like being parents?

Whoops, this turned into a semi-related drabble. 


Lena had been waiting for the right moment to bring it up with Widowmaker. Unfortunately, right moments to bring up tricky subjects were few and far between with her, and after weeks and weeks and, like, loads of attempts at trying to cheer her up (which, Lena had to admit, never worked), she gave up waiting.

There wouldn’t be a right moment. Lena would have to attempt to transform a wrong moment.

Said Wrong Moment started with Widowmaker arriving home at 5am, covered in mysterious blood splatters. That was a good sign! Bursting, Lena accosted her girlfriend at the door. “Before I ask you something, did you kill someone?”

Widowmaker gave her a tired look, ignoring what she’d said. “Why are you awake?”

That was a good question. Lena was famously unconscious by 11 most nights. “I was waiting for you to get home!” she explained. “But did you kill someone? I have to know. It’s important.”

Widowmaker gave her a long, flat stare. “I would have thought it was evident that this blood isn’t mine.”

Okay, well, that was as much of an answer as Lena was likely to get out of her. “Right, so that means you’re in a good mood, then, aren’t you? I have something I need to talk to you about.”

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Better than Porn

Summary: Dean takes his baby brother to a strip club for his birthday, and one particular dancer catches his eye. His crush isn’t helped by the fact she turns out to be one of his best friend’s cousin. 
Pairing
: SamxReader
Words
: 3432
Warnings
: Nope!
AN: LOOK GUYS. THE FIC IS FINALLY OUT. IT WAS A SON OF A BITCH BUT IT’S HERE! WOOOOOOOOOO!!!!
This is my entry for @dancingalone21‘s Funny Quote Challenge! My prompt was ‘Dude, you’re confusing reality with porn again’, and I made it a College AU. Hope you enjoy it!!!
Constructive Criticism Welcome!!!

***

Dean dropped into the chair next to Sam, slamming a fresh bottle of beer down in front of him as he chuckled contentedly, watching as a new woman took to the main stage in front of them.

“Y’know” Sam started, eyeing his brother with amusement as he wrapped his fingers around the chilled bottle, “this was not what I was expecting when you said you wanted to go out for my birthday.”

For a few moments, he didn’t respond, watching as the girl on the stage swayed her hips with the music, not really making much use of the pole behind her, then turned and grinned at him. “Why? What were you expecting?” he asked, taking a long draught from his beer.

He’d already stopped looking at him when Sam shrugged. “I figured a bar? A few beers? A few games of pool? Then I figured you’d probably disappear into the night with your catch of the day, call me the following morning to apologise for ditching my ass, except you wouldn’t really regret it cos you never do when you wind up getting laid” he told him, laughing as Dean turned and stared at him in mock offense.

“Why would I do such a thing to my baby brother on his birthday?”

Sam raised his eyebrow, still smiling as he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “to get laid. Didn’t I just say that?”

Dean chuckled as he leaned forward, a sly smirk playing on his lips as he nodded in the direction of the bar. “I’m not the one getting laid tonight… she’s been tossing you glances all night, Sammy” he murmured, letting out a bark of laughter as Sam’s head whipped around in the direction he’d indicated, brow furrowed curiously.

His eyes instantly caught the ones of a girl who had chosen that precise moment to look over at him. Her hair was loose, framing her face perfectly; her eyes were bright and shining, reflecting the dim lighting of the room as she stared at him. They bugged slightly when she realised they were staring at one another, before hastily turning back to the patron she had been chatting to before.

Was it his imagination, or were her cheeks now flushed slightly?

Sam huffed slightly, clearing his throat as he looked down at the beer bottle in his hand.

“Nah” he started, taking a swig of his drink before continuing, “she works here Dean. She’s probably just scoping for her next tip,” he told him nonchalantly.

A scoffing sound beside him made him raise his head, and he just caught the tail end of Dean rolling his eyes. “Come on, Sammy! What could be more perfect? The birthday boy and the stripper… a match made for a perfect one night stand.”

Dude, you’re confusing reality with porn again” Sam deadpanned, taking his turn to roll his eyes as he tried to suppress a grin.

“Whatever Sammy, it’s your loss” he crowed, once again reclining in his chair as the dancers once again switched up.

Despite his protests, Sam became hyper aware of the girl’s location in the room for the rest of the night, her presence drawing his attention. Every now and then, he snuck glances of his own, and in his ever-increasing state of inebriation, he couldn’t help but admire how pretty she was.

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Winchesters in Riverdale (Part Eight)

After a hunt gone wrong, Y/N Winchester, the 17 year old half-sister of Sam and Dean Winchester, her older brothers, and Castiel are transported to Riverdale, a town in a different universe. While Sam, Dean, and Castiel attempt to find a way back home, Y/N struggles to fit in in the community of Riverdale. In a universe with no monsters to worry about, there’s so many questions that need answering.

Can she ever try to be normal after hunting for all of her life? Who’s the good-looking, mystical teen with the beanie who’s always at that diner? And will anyone discover that secret she’s been hiding for the last year and a half?

Prologue

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Riverdale gif by @jugheadgifs

A/N: The song used in this fic is called “Flightless Bird, American Mouth” by Iron & Wine if anyone’s curious/wants to listen to it while reading this! Enjoy!

—————

“So what do you guys want to do next? Facials, manicures, some gossiping about Reggie Mantle’s latest fling?”

“Kevin, no.” Betty groaned. “The last thing I want to hear about is Reggie’s sex life.”

You laughed and turned back to Betty’s little trinkets, checking them out. Girls night was being hosted at Betty’s house and you were having a great time so far. You, Betty, Veronica, and Kevin were listening to music and just chatting mindlessly about things like school and the dance.

“Oh, I love this song!” Veronica exclaimed.

Before you could ask what song it was, it flooded through the speakers.

I was a quick-wet boy
Diving too deep for coins

You froze. It was your and Kevin’s song. The song that was playing when the both of you got together. Your first kiss. Your first dance.

Your mind felt burned out. You were sick of all this research. Why couldn’t you and your brothers and Kevin go on a vacation? One vacation. That’s all you were asking for. You sighed and rubbed your eyes. Kevin was on the opposite side of you, trying to translate the tablet. Some upbeat pop music was playing quietly from the radio. All of a sudden, a slow song came on the radio.

I was a quick-wet boy
Diving too deep for coins

You paid no attention to it. Kevin however, looked up at you for a second, then to the radio, then back down to the tablet again. Should he or shouldn’t he? After toying with it for thirty seconds, he took a deep breath and got up and walked to your side.

Stole me a dog-eared map
And called for you everywhere

You looked up from your book at him and Kevin held out his palm. You looked at it for a second before a hint of a smile came on your face and you placed your hand on his. Kevin smirked as you got up.

Have I found you?
Flightless bird, jealous, weeping
Or lost you?

He placed one hand on your hip and kept his other in yours. You placed your free hand on his shoulder and the two of you started to sway, slowly at first. Then the slow song picked up the beat just a bit and Kevin spun you around and smiled.

Now I’m a fat house cat
Nursing my sore blunt tongue

You giggled as you spun and came back into contact with Kevin. The two of you continued to dance, every once in a while smiling or chuckling at your movements. By the song’s upcoming conclusion, the beat had considerably slowed down and the both of you swayed very slowly, gazing into each other’s eyes.

American mouth
Big pill stuck going down

The song hit the final note and you and Kevin both leaned into each other at the same time, kissing each other softly. You finally broke the kiss and you looked at each other, trying to figure out the other’s reaction. Then at the same time, the two of you broke out into smiles and softly chuckled. You wrapped your arms around Kevin’s neck while Kevin snaked his arms around your waist. You rested your head on Kevin’s shoulder while Kevin rested his head on the side of your head. You both closed your eyes and continued to sway gently to the music that wasn’t even slow now. You were lost in your own world, not wanting this moment to end.

“Y/N?” Betty asked from behind you. “Are you okay?”

You gripped the table so hard your knuckles turned white.

All of your street light eyes
Wide on my plastic toys

“Um, can you guys turn that off please?” you asked quietly, trying to keep your voice steady and your tears at bay.

Kevin quickly turned the song off and the three of them looked at you. Veronica slowly walked over to you.

“Y/N…” Veronica said, gently putting a hand on your arm. “Are you alright?”

You flinched at the touch and turned around to face the three other teens.

“I gotta go,” you said, quickly wiping a fallen tear away, hoping the teens wouldn’t notice.

They did.

“Um, thank you for having me over, Betty. Bye.” You quickly said before all but running out of the house.

You didn’t notice the photo that fell out of your jacket pocket.

“Wait, Y/N!” Betty called, but you were already downstairs.

The teens heard the front door close and Veronica and Kevin ran to the window, peeking out of it. You ran until you got to the end of the driveway, stopping. You ran a hand through your H/C locks, breathing heavily.

“Who gets PTSD from a song?” Kevin asked.

Veronica glared at him.

“What?” he asked innocently.

They turned back to you. You shoved your hands in your plaid jacket pockets and walked off down the street, beginning your journey to Pop’s.

“Hey guys?” Betty asked.

Kevin and Veronica turned to the blonde who picked up the fallen photograph.

“You need to see this.”

All you wanted was a milkshake to go. You would walk home and then lock yourself up in your room until Monday morning. You could try to convince Sam and Dean that you were sick on Monday to prevent going to school for one more day, but you knew they wouldn’t believe you. As you walked into Pop’s with those things on your mind, they instantly faded away once you saw Jughead sitting in his usual booth typing away on his computer. Seemingly feeling your gaze, Jughead looked up at you and smirked. You couldn’t help but smile back as you made your way over to the raven-haired teen, sitting across from him.

“Hey there, Ms. Winchester.” he said.

“Mr. Jones.” you said back as you stole a couple of Jughead’s fries.

“What brings you to this fine establishment at these hours?” he asked as he looked down at his laptop again. “Weren’t you supposed to have a girls night with Veronica or something?”

You froze, forcing the fries down your throat as you swallowed them.

“I was, but stuff came up. So I left.” you mumbled.

Jughead looked up at you at your change of tone and closed his laptop, giving you his full attention.

“Something happen?” he asked.

You shrugged.

“Not really. Maybe. I don’t know. It’s kinda stupid.” you said.

Jughead nodded.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

You shook your head.

“Not particularly.” you said weakly.

Jughead nodded again.

“Fair enough,” he said as he sat back in his seat. “I know how it feels when someone pressures you into talking about something you’re not ready to talk about. So I’ll back off.”

You smiled at him.

“Thank you, Jughead. I appreciate it.”

Jughead smirked at you again.

“However… For the dance…” he began. “I do need to know where you live. I’d like to pick you up.”

The smile fell off your face.

“D-Do you?” you asked. “I mean… don’t people just meet each other there?”

Jughead chuckled.

“Not if they have dates they don’t.”

The smile came back to your face.

“So this’ll be a date, huh?” you joked.

Jughead blushed and looked down.

“If you want it to be.” he said shyly.

You beamed.

“Of course, Juggie,” you said.

He looked up at you again with that soft smile you loved so much. You took a deep breath.

“I guess I’ll tell you where I live then,” you began. “I’m staying at the—”

“Incoming.” Jughead interrupted, looking at something behind you.

You frowned.

“What?” you asked as you turned around.

Your eyes widened as you saw Veronica walking towards you, something in her hand.

“Ronnie.”

“Y/N,” she began, eyes darting between you and Jughead nervously. “Um, here. It fell out of your pocket when you left Betty’s.”

She handed you the object and Jughead craned his neck to see what it was. You felt your breath leave your body as you realized what it was. It was the photo of Lily from when she was three months old.

“Great,” you croaked. “Thanks.”

You wanted to put the photo away as quickly as you could but you found yourself unable to stop staring at your daughter and her little smile. It had been four months since you had gotten that picture. You wondered how big she was now. What she could be doing. Could she sit up yet? Roll over? Crawl?

“What’s her name?” Veronica asked tentatively.

You looked up at her, ready to deny knowing anything about the baby in the picture but stopped once you saw her face. Veronica Lodge wasn’t dumb. She had put together all the pieces. She knew who Lily was.

“That’s none of your business.” you snapped as you got up, shoving the photo into your pocket.

“Y/N—”

“I said, it’s none of your business, Veronica!” you yelled as you exited your booth.

The diner quieted down and everyone looked at you. You turned around, ready to leave when you felt someone gently grab your arm. You stopped, looking back. Jughead looked up at you worriedly, his hand gently enclosed around your arm. Tears welled up in your eyes.

“Y/N…” he said softly.

You couldn’t take it. He had figured it out too. Lily may have had Kevin’s smile and hair color, but she looked exactly like you otherwise.

You quickly pulled your arm from Jughead’s grip, running out of Pop’s as fast as you could. Even with your lungs burning and your legs feeling like they would give out at any second, you continued to run, your chest heaving. After running for God knows how long, you came to a stop, falling to your knees. All the emotions that you had kept bottled up for the last few months hit you at full speed and you finally allowed yourself to cry. As you cried, you weren’t sure if you could stop. Or even if you wanted to.

—————

A/N: Y’all know how I love my angst. :) Hope you liked it! Please send me feedback! Oh, and for anyone confused with dates, the reader was gone for eleven months in total (seven for the remainder of her pregnancy and four in order to get back in shape), and she’s been back for three. That makes Lily seven months old. Hope this clears up any confusion!

Taglist

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Winchesters in Riverdale Taglist

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Reggie Mantle x Reader PART TWO: THE ARTIST & THE JOCK

I cant believe people actually liked this, I honestly thought nobody would like it, but I got 84 notes as of now. I really want to thank you guys for liking it and rebloging it. I am currently writing part three so hopefully, you guys like where this is going.

Words: 1585

Pairing: Reggie x Reader

Summary: Dinner b/w The Mantles and (Y/L/N) with a bit of a twist at the end. 

Spoilers: Cute, fluff flashback b/w Reggie and the Reader.

A/N: I had fun writing this so hopefully you guys like it! 

Part One

You arrived home practically speeding home, since for business dinners, your father wants everything at its best. But before arriving you stopped by the flower shop to get tulips for Reggie’s sister Riley (I made this character up) and Pink Roses for his mom Vicky (this is his moms name in the comics). Hoping these were still there favorite type of flowers.

Mom! Dad! I’m home!” You shouted opening the door to your home.

“(Y/N) you’re a bit late, now go on and start getting ready” your father answers you.

“Sorry dad, I stopped at the flower shop as quickly as I could to get flowers for Riley and Mrs. Mantle.” You spoke up and your mother gives you a smile

“Well that’s sweet, now go on take a shower and start getting ready, do you want to give them like that or should I find a vase for them?” your mother asks

“No just like this, I think, you don’t want my help getting the stuff ready?” You question them.

“No honey” your parents answer in sync

“Okay” You nodded and went up the stairs to start getting ready. Wondering why they were acting strange about you looking nice since they usually didn’t care as long as you tried.

You turned on your music and got in the shower, then If we were a Movie by Hannah Montana started playing on shuffle, and you couldn’t help but smile and start singing along to the song that brought a great memory to you.

Flashback:

If we were a movie
You’d be the right guy
And I’d be the best friend
That you’d fall in love with in the end

You and Reggie were watching TV at his house, both 9 years old. You persuaded him to let you watch Hannah Montana with him. His parents were away with Riley at the clinic.  He would pretend he wasn’t enjoying it, but you’d catch him smiling every now and then. You sang along to those lyrics dancing around the living room.

Wish I could tell you there’s a kiss
Like something more than in my mind
I see it could be amazing

Then Reggie got up from the couch and started to walk away, when you grabbed him and made him dance with you. He squirmed to get away, but defeated he did what he knew would get him off your grip. He pretended to start slow dancing with you, so his hands reached your waist and he started to tickle you. You ended up on the floor laughing/screaming “Please! Reg! Stop! Its hurts!”  until you ran out breath to speak. He removed himself and brought water for your dry mouth.

That day was great for you because you and Reggie were growing up and your little group was growing and sometimes you just wanted to spend time with him. You were both about to turn 10 and your parents promised to take you two camping.

Turning off the shower, you grabbed your towel and started to get ready for the dinner. You dried off your hair so you could curl it. A smile plastered on your face to the memory that was now flooding your brain. You could not get yourself to think about anything else, and thought nothing about the fact you could not get Reggie of your mind, you simply pushed that away by lying to yourself that maybe it was better this way since you would have to deal with him and his parents.

You ignored the fact that the memory made you think so much about the old Reggie, Oh the old Reggie was so charming, caring, and you were the only girl in his universe until his sister showed up in your lives when you both were 7 and throughout the years you started drifting apart, not because of her, but the fact that growing up meant changing and you both were no longer into the same things anymore.

It was now 6:50pm as you applied red chapstick, since you weren’t a big fan of makeup, you kept it simple with a bit of black eyeliner to match your dress as well since that’s all you could do.

Your heart sunk the moment you realized you had no dressy shoes, mentally preparing yourself for your mothers’ wrath. You recently bought new converse, and you decided to pair them with “fancy” looking black socks.

It was now 7:00pm when you heard the doorbell ring. And you heard you parents call you, so you made your way out of your room and down the stairs.

You couldn’t help, but smile at Reggie.

He looked amazing in that maroon blazer, white shirt, and black pants. You were glancing at him until your mom took you out of your trance.

“Well well” your mother spoke up “look how handsome you have turned out” She directed a smile at Reggie

You were reaching the last steps and you felt Reggie’s eyes on you.

Man, she looks so beautiful Reggie thought

“(Y/N) you look amazing” was what came out of his mouth as he reached his hand towards you, and you grabbed it and finally made to the last step.

“Um, these are for you (Y/F/Flowers), hopefully they’re still your favorite” you nodded at him as you took the flowers in your hands and you were both staring at each other until Riley broke it by hugging you.

“I missed you sooo much (Y/N)!” The brown haired girl with a huge smile on her face spoke.

“I missed you so much too! Look I got you flowers too” you grabbed her hand leading her to the kitchen island where her and Mrs. Mantle’s bouquets resided. Your dad led the family to the dining room.

“I got you flowers too Mrs. Mantle” you declared when you walked in the dining room with Riley and she took the seat across yours.

“Oh that’s so sweet, but please hold them for now” you nodded “And please call me Vicky” she added on and you smiled placing her bouquet on a small table in the dining room.

As you were about to take your seat, Reggie got up grabbed your chair, so you could sit in it and pushed you in, and took the seat next to you and you both couldn’t help but smile at each other. The parents were on their own side of the table as our mothers brought in the food.

“So what business are you guys doing together?” you spoke looking directly at your father and Mr. Mantle after a few minutes.

“I am going to start a practice at the hospital” your father spoke up taking a drink of his merlot.

“I am going to pitch in some money, to help your father out start the practice” Mr. Mantle added on.

There was a bit of shift in the mood of the dinner now and you somewhat regretted that you asked.

“This Garlic, Basil Chicken is great Mrs. (Y/L/N) the tomato butter sauce really makes it pop” Reggie spoke up to get rid of the awkward silence that you started and you smiled at him and he returned it.

“Why, thank you so much Reggie” your mother spoke up while your father and Reggie’s father glanced at each other.

You and Reggie started to talk, as your parents held up their own conversation and Riley was playing games on her tablet with headphones plugged into her ears you would turn to see the 10 year old, so into her little world.

“Well” Mr. Mantle spoke up “I hope you can keep your end of the bargain” and the dining room went silent, so silent you could even hear the crickets outside chirping.

“(Y/N) do you like Reggie?” Mrs. Mantle broke the silence and you choked on the water you were drinking.

“I really hope you do because your parents and I would love for you guys to date, right?” She kept going and you were so confused as to what was going on and all the parents smiled.

You looked at Reggie who was staring down at his plate with a somber look on his face.

“Um, what is going on?” You finally spoke up and Mr. Mantle and your dad handed you a small stack of papers.

“This is a contract your father has signed in our partnership in the practice, in return I would like for you to date Reggie, during any events we have since he is not popular for his attitude and with you we could have an advantage to these fundraising events” Mr. Mantle spoke up “See honey you are sweetheart, compared to Reggie” he added on.

“You would make it look like he was changing his ways” Your father spoke up and your mother and Mrs. Mantle were just smiling.

You were speechless, you couldn’t get a word out, you could not believe your ears as to how Reggie’s parents were talking about him or your parents who didn’t seem to care about you to agree to such a thing in exchange for money. Instead your body took over and you stood up from your chair and walked out.

Reggie’s POV:

I couldn’t believe the way my parents did that, we had agreed that I would ask her out like a normal teenager. We were 16, and throughout the days I made it my mission to start changing, I know she noticed; but now that plan was out and I had to go out and look for her.

Tags: @sgarrett49 @oharchiekinz 

Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six

anonymous asked:

would you please write some more supercorp? whenever you want! thank you!

alex lets her get away with moping for only four days before she strides into kara’s apartment, a sense of purpose dressed in leather. she shuts the door behind her and, instead of responding to what feels like an appropriately indignant “hey that’s my door, remember!”, alex just snaps her fingers and points kara to the couch.

she places her helmet on the kitchen island, taking a moment to steady herself as kara decides—of her own volition, not because alex is scary at all—to take a seat on her couch.

Keep reading

Newcomers Pt 17

Creten gathered what was left of his belongings from his home that had been burned down during the battle for his small town. There was not much left but he was happy to find a few of his books were still in good order or were salvageable. The Humans had offered his father a temporary robotic arm that he refused probably still bitter about being defeated. In fact Creten was sad to be leaving at all, for the last few days he had been welcomed by them and they had answered his mountain of questions and seemed pleased to meet someone who was interested in their culture. He and the rest of the now refugees as the Humans called them were being sent to Geeda with the others, they were told that it was being used as a holding area for those caught up in this war.

Ruffling through the burned wreckage he found what he was sent to find, a picture of his mother, he snatched it and ran out to the street.

“Father I found it!”

“Ah good” he said taking and looking at it with a smile on his face, he ran his finger over her features as if he was scared he might forget them. He knew that she had gone west towards the capital and that was likely where the Humans were going next. He hoped like they had done here they would not kill anyone they did not have to.

“You guys ready?” asked one of the Humans that was helping them into the trucks.

“Yes, let us go”

Creten helped his father to his feet and the Human picked up the bags and followed them to one of the rear trucks. Just as his father got on Creten turned to the Human.

“Can I really not stay here? I want to stay and see everything”

Hopkins looked down at him smiling and handed him one of the bags.

“You are brave little one and you have a good head on your shoulders, but the front is no place for you. Your strength lies inside your mind and your people will need you once this war is over”

“Can I at least…” Creten looked at Hopkins pocket smiling and he pulled out a few sweets.

“There those are my last ones”

“Thank you”

Hopkins lifted him into the truck and he sat by his father.

“Take care all of you, there are clean beds and hot meals waiting for you in Geeda.

“What about those who defended it?” asked Creten’s father and Hopkins turned to him.

“I can’t say for anyone specific but there are many survivors” Hopkins banged the side of the truck and it began to pull away with Creten waving goodbye to the Humans they passed.


They rode for hours with the tracks of the truck kicking up dust and dirt behind them making the small town they had called home fade from view as if being erased.

Going past them heading the opposite way were Gal and Human infantry running on foot and vehicles carrying other supplies and to Creten’s joy a Bastion. Behind him a flap that separated the drivers from the occupants opened and a Human handed them some protein bars saying the journey will be longer than expected.

The reason was traffic, there were a lot of vehicles trying to get in Greeda through only a small number of gates, and not all were Human vehicles.

In the weeks since Greeda fell it became the place for refugees to go and be housed by the Humans who felt it their duty to help those caught up in the war. One thing they did not stop and even in fact they encouraged was the travelling of Benemar merchants. They would come and trade their goods with the refugees and Humans alike who paid them well. Soon other merchants were making their way into Human controlled territory to trade their goods.

It was nearly midnight when they arrived at one of Geeda’s recently repaired gates and they were stopped once more by Human guards that came and inspected the truck. Many feared this was the moment the Human would show their true colours and kill them but all the guards did was ask them their names and hand them ID bracelets.

They passed through the gate and into the city which was rather quiet as it was close to the middle of the night now and everyone had retired to bed, the truck suddenly stopped and they were asked to disembark.

There was a waiting waiting of them and once they had all exited the truck it left them in the middle of the street with this guard holding a clipboard watching them.

“Hello everyone my name is Lieutenant Rosev and I am the one in charge of this section of the city. This building behind me is your new home” he indicated the large housing block that could hold hundreds of families, small townsmen like them could only dream of living in one of these.

“They have all been checked and stocked with beds and basic living needs, the water is a bit dodgy but we are working on fixing it. Tomorrow food will be distributed from a centre down the road. So yeah, find a bed and fall in I guess, goodnight” he saluted then and walked off.

They all looked around a bit dumbfounded, these were supposed to be luxury apartments for only the highly rich or privileged Benemar and they were being given to them freely and without questions.

“I don’t know about you lot but I have no intention of freezing out here on the street” Creten’s father Malthos said heading inside. He had become the town elder since the last was killed during the battle and the town survivors looked to him for guidance. They slowly followed him inside.


The next morning Creten ran to the window having been woken by the sound of low flying aircraft, there were hundreds of fighters and bombers heading west and flying low. He watched excited and memorizing their strange shape and holding his ears at the loud booming sound they made when they passed overhead. His father was none to happy at being woken so abruptly and simply shouted at his son to go to this distribution centre the Humans had told them about to get food.

Creten did not need telling twice as he already had his boots on when his father called for him.

The streets were packed, you would have been forgiven for believing that the city never came under attack nor was under Human occupation. The streets were filled with Benemar, both survivors of the when the city fell and refugees from other such towns like his. Children played in the streets, merchants had set up stalls and adults chatted. He headed in the direction the Human had told them the centre was and on the way he passed a building that was once a gathering hall but had been turned into a walk in hospital by the Humans. He looked inside and saw Human doctors treating sick Benemar offering such services freely. Such services on Bento were hard to come by sometimes and even if one could find a healer the price of such treatment was extortionate. But the Humans asked for nothing and gave without question. They were not unobserved though, looking up he saw Gal, not a large number maybe half a dozen looking down and moving along the buildings slowly, there were a few Humans sitting on perches but they seemed more interested in chatting with each other than keeping an eye on them. He went on his way and found the food centre, naturally there was a long line as it was the morning and people were waiting for their morning meals. He hated waiting, he wanted to explore and talk to the Human soldiers who he saw every so often wandering around unarmed but completely at ease.

“Creten?” he heard someone call his name and looked around but could not see where it was coming from. “Creten!” he heard again louder and closer and he was suddenly seized from behind and spun to face this newcomer.

“Selan!” he shouted leaping into the arms of his big sister “You’re alive!”

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Um..our town fell, the Humans sent us here”

Selan’s face fell “Why didn’t you leave and go to the capital?”

“Mother did, father and me along with a number of others stayed and fought”

“You fought the Humans?” Selan said shocked at the thought of her baby brother even lifting a rifle let alone firing it.

“We lost as you can see but they did not mistreat us, most of the those who stayed survived”

“Father?” Selan said quickly.

“He is at home, or the home we have been given”

Selan let out a breathe of relief.

“Where is Jeqan and Kop?” Creten asked.

Selan’s face dropped and she shook her head “They died fighting to the last and with honour”

Creten grew angry, he hated that word honour for in his mind it was worthless and so many died for it. “They shouldn’t have died at all and we shouldn’t be fighting either”

Selan glared at him “They are the enemy” she hissed.

“Are they? They have been nothing but kind to me and father once they saw we were not warriors, like now I am in line to get food which they say they do not charge for”

Selan said nothing.

“How many long hours did we spend in the salt fields scratching at the dirt in the hopes we might eat something or find enough to sell?”

Selan was a bit taken back by this, Creten was usually so submissive and easily spoken down to but now he stood tall. He had a new confidence that she had not seen before.

Finally he arrived at the desk where a Human female greeted him.

“Bracelet please” she asked holding out her hand and Creten put his arm up with his ID bracelet on and it was scanned.

“I see you have your father is in the city with you” she said reading a screen “Do you want to collect for him as well?”

“Yes please”

“One meal or the entire day?”

“Um…the whole day please”

She disappeared behind a curtain for a few minutes and Creten turned back to his sister who had said nothing.

“Have you tried their food?” he asked.

She looked at him out the corner of her eye as if refusing to face him “It’s not bad” she finally said and the Human reappeared with three large bags.

“This is your morning meal, your afternoon meal and your evening meal. There are few sweets in there as well”

“Chocolate?” he asked excited and the Human smiled and nodded. “Yay”

“Yay?” Selan asked not familiar with this word.

“It’s a Human word it’s used as a small celebration for when something happens that they like”

“Oh” she said “Let’s go see father then”

Creten turned and led the way and Selan watched him go a few paces “Traitor” she whispered to herself before following.