#her sleeves have some serious balloon sleeving going on. tight at the wrist and the rest of the sleeve just hangs

[zzzzombroccoli]

F-F-Frostbitten!

Eira Frost, Ice-Type

#zomb doodles ; art #Pokemon FC #Fan Character #her sleeves have some serious balloon sleeving going on. tight at the wrist and the rest of the sleeve just hangs

[radiorenjun]

I Don't Need It. i

• Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader

• Genre: Angst, Comedy, Fluff

• Na Jaemin despised the idea of soulmates, he wanted to fight against fate for choosing his soulmate for him. Even if it means his stubborn childhood best friend wouldn't stop trying to make him accept about the similar tattoos on their wrists.

• Masterlist here!

• Chapters: i, ii

"Hey Jaemin?" you said, not looking up from your bucket filled with sand. "Yeah?" your friend replied, sitting down infront of you, sand moving everywhere from the impact. You flipped the bucket over, tapping it with your palms and the end of the plastic shovel.

"Do you think my soulmate is just gonna be like Daddy?" you asked, creating sand walls with your palm as Jaemin set up mini towers beside the bucket with his little cup. "Soulmate? Gross," his face scrunched up in disgust, sticking his tongue out which caused you to giggle.

"You're gonna have one, too, dummy!" your hands grabbed one of your stuffed animals and throwing it at him. "Yeah, but I don't wanna." he pouted, grabbing the shovel beside you to fill another bucket with the sand around you, putting your stuffed animal aside.

"Why not?"

"Cause it's stupid."

"It's not stupid!"

You look up at him with a pout, looking at Jaemin who's eyes was filled with anger. "Why?" you asked, pulling your bucket to reveal a perfectly made sand castle. "It's stupid how we can't choose our soulmates." he whined.

"Why?" you asked again, in the same calm tone as you decorated your sandcastle with tiny figurines of your latest favorite cartoon. "I want to choose myself." he ran his hand through the sand, picking a pile up with his palm before letting it pour out in between his fingers.

"I want to choose my soulmate." he stated after a sigh, looking at you with his lips sucked in between his teeth as you gave him a sweet understanding smile. "Dont you, Y/n?" he asked, making you look up at him with a small questioning hum.

"Don't you wanna choose your soulmate, too?" he asked. "Me?" you asked, pointing a finger at yourself, making him nod. You grabbed your tigger plushie and hugged it to yourself, "I want to. So bad. Mommy says soulmates are the ones that make you happy, and would protect you when Mommy and Daddy aren't around. And would always be with you forever and ever," you gushed.

You paused as you hugged your plushie tight, "I would do anything to meet my soulmate." you sighed dreamily. "I think Tigger might be your soulmate," Jaemin teased. "I wish." you stuck your tongue and blew a raspberry teasingly at him, making him laugh.

"But Mommy says Tigger can't have a tattoo when he's 16 years old." you whined, looking at your plushie with your lips pursed. "See! This is why I don't want a soulmate." Jaemin huffed, raising his arms out at you before crossing them against his chest dramatically.

"I thought you said you want to choose your soulmate," you smiled, nuzzling your head against Tigger. Jaemin frowned, kicking some sand off the soles of his shoes, "That too." he grumbled under his breath.

"Even if your soulmate was me?" you asked teasingly, poking your cheek with your hand to act cute. The boy let out a giggle, throwing your plushie that was previously thrown at him to you. "Especially you!"

His words made you frown, your bottom lip sticking out. "Meanie! Na Jaemin is a meanie!" you whined before looking at your Tigger plush. "Tigger, Jaemin is a big meanie. He's not my soulmate. My soulmate would make me happy, not be mean to me." You announced dramatically as Jaemin stuck his tongue out with a teasing smile.

"For now, you're my soulmate, Tigger! Tigger makes me happy all the time!" you grinned widely as Jaemin laughed. "Tigger can't be your soulmate, y/n!!" he laughed, clutching his stomach at your weird antics.

"Yes he can! And he's a better soulmate than you'll ever be, Jaemin! Soulmates make each other happy all the time, not be mean to them!" you turned your head away from Jaemin dramatically, making Jaemin snort.

You were six years old when you found out Jaemin didn't want a soulmate. At least, a soulmate that was chosen for him. You didn't think he was serious, thinking it was merely just a phase that he would eventually get over and accept reality.

You were thirteen years old when you're beginning to think otherwise.

"Jaemin!!" you exclaimed, running up to him and hopping as you lay your hands on his shoulders, startling the boy. "How's my favorite bestfriend?" you grinned, tilting your head as you watch Jaemin chuckle softly at you.

"Im your only bestfriend, loser." he stated casually causing your smile to drop. "Damn, do you always have to ruin my mood? That is no way to speak to your precious best friend." you tutted, waving your index finger at him, making the boy giggle as he rolled his eyes.

"It's my job as a bestfriend to turn your life upside-down right?" he grinned as he shut his locker, walking by your side to your class. "Yeah, you're definitely not my soulmate." you stated in a monotone voice, your lips pursed dramatically.

"Could you stop talking bout soulmates for just a second?" he groaned loudly, tilting his head back in frustration. You grinned, "right, I forgot your sister found hers already. Must suck to hear how everyone in your family isn't single no more." you teased.

"Oh shut up, you're single too. Idiot." he sassed, gently flicking your forehead which caused you to let out a small yelp. "Yeah, yeah, yeah." you pouted, rubbing the slightly sore spot on your forehead as you continued to walk down the crowded halls.

"You still on that 'I'll reject my soulmate when I meet them' phase?" you mumbled, "this phase feels like its gonna last a whole lifetime, God." you continued as Jaemin let out an exasperated sigh. "It's not a phase, Y/n." he stated.

You raised your brow questioningly at your best friend, "you sure you won't change your mind?" you asked. You saw him nod without meeting your eyes, determined to keep his word. "Alright, dang, I feel bad whoever gets to be your soulmate." you chuckled.

"You're still love struck bout finding them? You got three years left til you actually get your tattoo. What's the rush?" he grinned after a moment of silence. You raise your eyebrows, "there's no rush. I just." you sighed, looking down at your two feet, your shoelaces both tied to a tight knot.

"I really really want to meet them." you sucked in your lips, hearing Jaemin let out a chuckle. "No kidding, y/n." he joked which made you glare at him. "I'm serious." you said, looking into his eyes with full seriousness to prove to him that you're actually that hyped up.

"I really really want to meet them. " you spoke. "My parents always show so much love for each other and they just make the concept seem so exciting. My mom says meeting your soulmate makes you feel whole and you can't stop yourself from smiling when you're around them." you explained.

"It's something you don't understand." you grinned, booping his nose which caused him to let out a small laugh. "Yeah, because I'm mostly sick of seeing my folks being all lovey dovey infront of me. Now I have my sister doing it," he scrunches his face in disgust.

"No matter, soulmates make each other happy. I'm sure mine is no different." you rolled your eyes, "your soulmate would just spend the rest of their lives being rejected by your stubborn ass," you nudged his side, making him smile. "Oh shut up," he laughed.

"Have you done your homework, mister?" you raised your brow teasingly. His face contorted from disgust to shock, his eyes widening. "We have homework?"

On your sixteenth birthday, you couldn't be more excited. They say the moment you blow your candles, it will start to appear. Jaemin got his on his birthday since he was older, his frown evident everytime he looks at his wrist.

He would cover his mark up with a bracelet or a watch so he wouldn't have to look at it every moment of his life. 'He's still going strong with his distaste for soulmates, huh?' you thought as you stared at yourself at the mirror, preparing for your big day.

The people you love around you, your parents putting down your cake infront of you with candles in the shape of numbers brightly lit. Everyone clapping and singing a happy birthday song before ending it with you blowing your candles.

You felt the skin on your wrist fidget, looking down at your left wrist everyone came closer to see your tattoo. Ink began to appear on your skin, forming a familiar small red heart balloon flying in between two clouds, awing everyone in the room.

Your jaw dropped as your eyes widened at the mark. The ink had stopped appearing, leaving your wrist with a small odd feeling. Like a thin layered sticker sticking to your skin. You looked up at the people around you who gave you compliments at your mark.

Everyone was smiling and congratulating you, however, your parents and Jaemin's parents were'nt looking too bright at your mark. Jaemin was unconsciously holding onto his left wrist which was covered by his new watch.

"Dude, your tattoo looks so aesthetically pleasing."

"Your tattoo looks so cute, do you think you found your soulmate already?"

"I hope you find them soon!"

"Man, I can't wait til I'm 16. That shit looked amazing!"

"Wonder who your soulmate is"

Everyone's words blurred in your ears as your eyes subtly went to Jaemin who was talking to his friends in the corner with a drink in his hand. His eyes met yours before giving you a small half hearted smile. It wasn't genuine. You knew what he was going to say after this party was over.

You gazed at the mark on your left wrist, running your thumb over it gently. Your head deep in the clouds, ignoring the people around you.

"Hey." Jaemin mumbled awkwardly after the party ended, leaving your house empty with just you, Jaemin and both of your parents. "Hey," you replied, tugging the sleeves of your hoodie as you didn't know what to say to him.

"So. We're soulmates." he stated as if it wasn't the obvious. Your eyes went to his left wrist, seeing that he had taken his watch off, leaving the skin a bit red from how tight he put on the watch. The similar mark of a red heart balloon in between two clouds evident on his skin.

"I guess." you shrugged, hugging your pillow to your chest tightly, tightening your grip with every passing second. "Listen, I-" Jaemin spoke after a long excruciating moment of silence. He cut himself off with a deep inhale.

"You know how I feel bout soulmates more than anyone. And it still hasn't change. You know I don't want a soulmate, at least one that's chosen for me." he bit his lip nervously, eyes not meeting yours. You couldn't lie, it felt like a strong punch to your gut. "But, like," Jaemin scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, unsure of what to say. "I don't want to lose you, my best friend, because of this silly stupid mark."

You furrowed your brows. 'He's your soulmate. You're fated to be together. He'll accept the fact soon, right? He just needs a little convincing.' you bit your lip. You were stubborn and you know it. You're gonna change his mind even if it's the last thing you do.

"So, can we just put this behind us-" Jaemin spoke softly before you cut him off. "No," you said in a bold tone, making him look at you wide confused eyes, brows furrowed. "What?" he mumbled.

You look up at him with determined eyes and a bright smile. "I know this isn't going to be easy but I'm going to do whatever it takes to convince you that deep down I know you feel something for me. Why? Cause we're soul mates and sooner or later you're going to accept that!" you huffed dramatically.

Jaemin started at you in disbelief, "don't try to talk me out of this. I'm just as stubborn as you are! I'm not stopping til you accept me as your soulmate," you put your hands on your hips, standing up to push him out of the room. "Wait what, Y/n-" he started as he stumbled to the exit of your room.

"Now get out, starting tomorrow I'm going to convince you. Therefore, I'll be needing tons and tons of rest. Just you wait, Na Jaemin. L/N Y/N is going to work hard for this!" you stuck your tongue out before slamming the door shut. You heard him sigh from the other side of the door before walking away half a minute later.

You leaned your back against the door in exhaustion, sliding down to sit down on the floor. Your smile turning to a quick frown as you ran a hand through your hair in frustration. This is going to be tough.

#nct angst #nct x reader #nct #nctzen #nct au #nct jaemin #nct dream x you #nct dream x reader #nct dream #nct dream jaemin #jaemin x you #na jaemin #jaemin x reader #na jaemin x reader #nct x you #nct jaemin x reader

[fredheads]

WIP WEDNESDAY (special birthday edition)

i flopped hard and did not write a thing for @fredsythes birthday not a special fic and not even a chapter of my own debauchery that i was gonna pass off as a present real quick so in order to make it up here is an extra long wip wednesday for clown au ft. some real gay ass shit ❤️ 🧡 💛 💙 💜 💚🥰pls enjoy

Harry Clayton came jogging up to them then, no longer wearing the blue uniform of the Church School band. He had replaced his trombone in the Neibolt School music room, and had changed into blue jeans and a cream-coloured shirt. A canvas bag flapped against his shoulder. FP noted, almost unthinkingly, how pronounced the muscles in his legs and arms were. Harry was built more solidly than any of them, even Hal and Fred, who were the biggest and tallest, respectively. 

“Hey,” said Harry abruptly, his eyes sliding over Hiram and FP before landing on Fred. “I saw him,” Harry confided, lowering his voice. “The clown. As we were going up Main Street Hill I saw him passing out balloons to kids. 

“It was the same one you talked about. He had a silver suit with orange buttons. And orange hair. And he was smiling, but… there was something wrong about him. He was facing away when I saw him, but as soon as I recognized him he looked at me. And something about him… it scared me. And the paint on his mouth was dripping. It looked like blood.” 

“I told you!” Hiram suddenly shrieked. He threw his ice cream on the ground and covered his face with his hands. “I told you! It’s here!” 

‘Let’s go,” said Fred quickly. His mouth had hardened into a thin line, and his jaw was taut. He touched FP’s shoulder abruptly, and a warmth flared from the place where his fingers pressed. Fred steered them towards the road. “We should f-find the others. Have you g-got the s-s-slides, Harry?” 

“Yeah.” Harry patted his bag. “My dad’s got a lot of stuff about Riverdale. It goes back a long time.” 

“Why’s your dad care so much?” FP asked. His own ice cream had melted down to a stump of cone, and he threw it on the ground as they walked. 

“He thinks it’s interesting. He told me once it was because he wasn’t born here. It’s like he came in in the middle of a movie and-” 

“He w-wants to see the s-start,” Fred said, and Harry smiled at him. 

“Exactly.” 

They found Hal, Mary, and Alice together at the fence bordering the tilt-a-whirl. Mary had been marching with the Boy Scouts, and was wearing her neckerchief and neatly pressed uniform. Alice was eating a stick of spun pink cotton candy and laughing at something one of the others had said. FP gauged by the exhilarated and terrified look on Hal’s face that they might have spent the morning together. The bigger boy was blushing so badly that FP expected smoke to start spiraling out of his ears. 

“W-We’re g-going to my h-house,” Fred explained. “H-Harry’s going to s-show us the puh-pictures.” 

The smiles disappeared from their faces, replaced by the serious looks of small adults. They walked in a solemn pack through the crowded streets and away from the festival, pushing their bikes by the handlebars. Fred’s house stood vacant and quiet, though music and fanfare from downtown floated very faintly over the tops of the neighbourhood trees. A tattered row of pinwheels turned doggedly in his neighbour’s garden. Fred pulled up the garage door and began setting up the projector while the others pulled up boxes and stools to use as chairs. 

FP stared at a photo tacked above Artie Andrews’ workbench. It was a ragged snapshot of the Andrews family on vacation. Oscar was there, sandwiched between his mother and father with a hand in each of theirs. And Fred was standing at his father’s shoulder, his head leaning against Artie’s arm, beaming at the camera. He looked very young and very happy. 

FP had a fantasy sometimes of telling Mr. and Mrs. Andrews off for the way they treated Fred. In this fantasy he was usually over at the Andrews house, maybe eating dinner or sitting with Fred at the kitchen island. The air was thick and painful, and Fred was trying to talk to his parents, and they were ignoring him. FP could see the tears welling up in Fred’s eyes, and his jaw was clenched like he was trying his hardest to be brave, but he was hurting. FP saw him hurting and it made him lose his cool a bit. 

In this daydream he jumped up and laid into both of them, really blew up and gave them the business. Fred looked embarrassed, a little, but grateful too. He looked at FP with stars in his eyes, like no one had ever done something like that for him before. FP indulged himself in this vision the way he did his dreams of becoming a rock star or a stand up comic in his adult life - it had the same mythical, incandescent quality as those daydreams, though this particular one recurred with frightening severity. 

“You’d better start treating your son right,” he told Mr. and Mrs. Andrews. In this fantasy he also had a strong, gravelly tough-guy voice, like he smoked a pack of cigarettes a day. He was suave. He meant business. “Do you hear me? Oscar’s gone, but Fred’s not. Fred’s still here. And your son is the smartest, strongest person I’ve ever met, and you don’t even know it.” 

His arm would go around Fred, then, wrapping around his broad back and holding him tight. Fred’s parents looked shamed, but FP wasn’t done. No, they’d know when he was done. He was just getting started. “This whole time you’ve been ignoring him he’s been braver than you’ve ever been in your life,” FP told them, and his voice rang out across the dining room clear as a bell. 

Sometimes Artie started to give him some trouble, but FP stopped him cold every time. 

“Don’t make me hurt you,” he would say to Artie Andrews, cracking his knuckles. “I don’t wanna hurt you, but I swear to God, I will. If you make him cry again, I swear to God you’ll regret it.” (He savoured these particular words like spun sugar in his mouth, reciting them sometimes in the veil between dreaming and waking like an actor rehearsing for his opening scene.) 

Fred would pull on his sleeve, but FP wouldn’t be calmed. He was a loose cannon. “I’m not crying,” Fred would say sometimes, wiping his eyes and trying to be brave, and that would make FP hold him tighter. 

Artie always apologized. They both did. “Don’t say sorry to me, you say sorry to him,” FP would order, and Fred would turn to him with those wide, adoring eyes in which FP could see reflected all the stars in the universe, and a tear would tremble on the rim of his lower lashes. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Fred would say when they were alone. He wouldn’t stutter either - FP would have fixed that one up too. 

“Sure I did, kid,” FP said. “You’re my best friend, aren’t you?” 

And Fred would smile at him, a smile that was brave and hopeful and then he would 

(NO! NO NO NO!) 

(yes yes he would KISS-)

kiss FP on the cheek, only here the dream would be so bright and wonderful that FP would come to in a start, would throw it off blushing with his tongue drier than sawdust and his stomach cramping madly, the dream and reality overlapping in lovely translucent strips so that flashes of it were still visible - Fred’s hand on his wrist, Fred’s hot dry lips on his cheek, and then he would leave it entirely with superhuman effort and go back to the start like rewinding a tape, sitting at the kitchen table, telling Fred’s parents that they’d better wise up. 

He got as far as telling Artie off the second time around when he looked up suddenly and realized he was the only one still standing in the middle of the garage. Mary was sitting on a folding chair to his right, asking him what the hell he was doing. FP dropped quickly onto a nearby crate and shook the dream out of his head. 

“Just thinking me thinks,” he said glibly, crossing one ankle on top of his knee and bouncing it, and Mary shook her head slightly and turned away. 

Fred pulled down the garage door, sealing out the light. In the moment before FP’s eyes adjusted to the pitch black, he had a horrible thought. Suppose something reached out of the dark and grabbed his neck, or a set of teeth fastened in his leg? Suppose the clown was behind them all now? Then the projector flashed on, illuminating a square of flat garage wall, and the breath came back to his body. 

“Some of these pictures go back hundreds of years, my dad said,” Harry explained. He was feeding slides into Artie Andrews’ projector, his broad shoulders silhouetted very handsomely in the blue light. “When you all were talking about the clown, I realized I’d seen something like it before. And after I saw it today, I’m sure I recognized him.” 

“You recognized him?” Alice asked, sounding horrified. 

“Look.” 

The slide clicked into place, throwing an outline of a photo on the garage wall. The projection was a scan of a black-and-white ink sketch, showing a clown entertaining a group of children. The children were smiling, but the clown was not. Its mouth drooped down in a sorrowful frown, its eyes gloomy black pits. There was an awful aura about the antique photo, as though the black and white lines radiated malice. 

PENNYWISE THE CLOWN read old-timey writing across the bottom. 

“What’s the date on this?” Hal asked. 

“My dad says this one is from the early seventeen hundreds. Back when Riverdale was just a beaver trapping camp.” 

This phenomenal news rocketed FP into action. “Still is! Am I right, boys?” FP shoved Hiram hard with his elbow and threw a hand up for a high five. Hiram looked at him blankly. Fred frowned. Mary shook her head at him until FP put his hand back down.

#it au #wip wednesday #fred andrews #fp jones #parentdale

[rvnclwrites]

Herbology Tutor (Talbott x Female MC)

A/N: Sorry I went on a hiatus for awhile. A combination of writer's block and a serious lack of free time has prevented me from writing, and I was pretty bummed after seeing Akkiarn's spoilers, which essentially confirm canon characters not being options for romance. Because of this and in honor of the latest side quest with Talbott, I decided to write a fic about him. Don't worry though, I will get back to Charlie x MC fics, as well as my current requests soon.

Word count: ~2100

"(Y/N)? Are you even listening to me?"

"Huh?" (Y/N) said, her attention snapping from the blank piece of parchment in front of her to a disappointed looking Penny across the table. She rubbed her face, hoping to clear her foggy mind. "I'm really sorry, Penny. What were you saying?"

"That you need to get writing! This essay is due tomorrow, and you've never procrastinated like this before. I'm really worried about you."

(Y/N) forced a half-hearted smile, grateful for her friend's concern. "I'm okay. Go finish up your Potions project, I'll figure this out."

"Are you sure? I can explain the steps again if you want."

(Y/N) shook her head. If she hadn’t understood it the first two times, odds were a third wouldn’t be of much help either. "I really appreciate it, but I'll be fine. Promise."

Penny stared at her for a long moment before resigning. "Okay, but please come get me if you need anything."

As the Hufflepuff headed out of the library, (Y/N) grabbed her quill and began scribbling, intent on formulating at least a few meaningful sentences. It didn't take long though for her brain to stop working again. She angrily flipped through the pages of Flesh-Eating Trees of the World, feeling a lump rise in the back of her throat. Why was this so hard for her? She had outstanding marks in all of her subjects, she should be able to figure it out by herself.

"You okay?"

(Y/N) jumped, startled by the unexpected voice nearby, and she was surprised to find a familiar pair of brown eyes peering down at her. "Oh, Talbott," (Y/N) said, placing a hand over her racing chest. How was he always so quiet? "Sorry, you scared me."

Without a word, he slid into the seat next to hers and as he continued to be silent, (Y/N) realized he had asked her a question.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just trying to understand Self-Fertilising Shrubs." She rubbed her temples again and looked up to the ceiling, trying hard to ignore the burning sensation traveling up her throat and threatening to reach her eyes. She was not going to cry. (Y/N) never cried.

"Want some help?" He offered, scooting his chair closer to hers.

(Y/N)'s gaze trailed over to meet Talbott's. The pair had been friends for a few weeks now, playing Gobstones together and drinking Butterbeer on the weekends, but (Y/N) had always initiated it. This was the first time he was offering to help her.

Something warmed in the pit of (Y/N)'s stomach as she tried to decipher the look on Talbott's face. As always, he was a mystery; so tricky to read and it drove (Y/N) nuts. "You don't have to," (Y/N) said, biting her bottom lip. In all honesty, she really did want Talbott's help, but this was so out of character for him and she didn't want to put him out.

The corner of his lips quirked up in a subtle smile. "I owe you for helping me find my necklace."

An unrecognisable feeling fizzed in the pit of (Y/N)'s stomach. Talbott had only smiled a handful of times in front of her and when he did, it always made her inexplicably happy. "Thanks," (Y/N) said, returning the smile. "I couldn't focus during Professor Sprout's lecture and now I'm completely lost. My Self-Fertilising Shrub wasn't too fond of me."

Talbott laughed and flipped through one of the books in front of them, stopping near the back. "Here," he said, pointing to a paragraph near the bottom. "This section better describes their purpose."

(Y/N) frowned, looking down at the book. "Why isn't this page listed in the index then?"

Talbott shrugged. "I don't know, I didn't write the book."

(Y/N) elbowed him in the shoulder before skimming the section. Within fifteen minutes, Talbott had helped her write three lengthy paragraphs on Self-Fertilising Shrubs and the uses of their fertiliser.

"This says to leave around two meters between each plant. Why do you need to plant them so far apart?" (Y/N) asked, glancing up from her textbook.

"They'll eat each other, and most other plants for that matter."

(Y/N) blinked at him. "Oh." She flipped to the next page and frowned. "This says nothing about the feeding or watering process other than they need a lot of it. How in the bloody hell is that supposed to help me?"

Fighting back another smile, Talbott stood up and gestured for (Y/N) to follow him. "Come on, I'll show you how to feed it."

"Are you sure?" (Y/N) asked, not wanting to take up any more of Talbott's time if he didn't want to.

Instead of answering, Talbott's fingers closed around (Y/N)'s wrist and he tugged her to her feet and toward the door, sending a trail of goosebumps down her arm.

Once they reached the Greenhouse, (Y/N) located her shrub from earlier and apprehensively began following Talbott's instructions.

"I can't believe it eats that," she said, scrunching her nose in disgust at the unmistakable pile of animal flesh on the tray. Using the levitation spell, (Y/N) thankfully managed to feed the plant without having to touch any of it. "Anyone who says plants are romantic is insane. I don't think we've ever planted a single attractive flower. No, instead we get to risk losing an arm to this thing."

"Hey, be nice," Talbott said before turning to the shrub. "She didn't mean that, buddy."

(Y/N) bit back a giggle while she filled up the watering can and noticed Talbott tossing seeds into a soil-filled pot. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Don't worry about me, you've got a shrub to water," he said while patting down the soil inside the dainty pot.

"Are you sure it won't bite me?" (Y/N) asked, her gloved hands trembling as she extended the watering can toward the plant. She may not have been afraid of most things, but (Y/N) had enough common sense to fear anything labeled as "flesh-eating".

"Yes, I'm sure. That's why we fed it first."

Trusting her friend, (Y/N) cautiously poured water onto the soil (not over top of the shrub, per Talbott's instructions) and watched as the plant didn't protest like it had earlier. Instead, it wiggled in approval before standing taller. "I did it!" (Y/N) said, grinning wider than she had after acing her last Potions exam. She dropped the watering can onto the table and without thinking pulled Talbott into a tight hug. "Thank you so much." Talbott's body stiffened against hers, and (Y/N) pulled back quickly, hoping she didn't make him uncomfortable. "Sorry," she said, her face flushing.

Talbott rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, don't mention it. Seriously, don't- I'd never tutor anyone else but you and don't want people thinking otherwise."

(Y/N) laughed and felt that nagging sensation return to her stomach. She wanted to ask what made her special enough to warrant his attention but didn't want to make him start questioning it. "Deal."

(Y/N) began gathering her books from the floor and was caught off guard when Talbott asked, "So, why were you distracted in class?"

Straightening, (Y/N) felt that lump return to the back of her throat. "What?"

"You said you lost focus in class and that's not like you," he said, his attention still trained on the pot in front of him while he sprinkled the watering can over it. "Did something happen?"

(Y/N) dug her fingernails into the palm of her hand, hoping to force away the emotion fighting to creep its way out again. She wanted to lie. She wanted to keep telling everyone she was just having a bad day and move on. But this was Talbott, and not only was he smart enough to see through any of her lies, he had also been trusting and vulnerable enough to open up to (Y/N) despite how hard it was for him. 

"I realized that today is-" (Y/N) took in a breath and let it out slowly. "Today is my brother's birthday."

Talbott froze before lowering the watering can back to the table and turning toward (Y/N). "Oh."

(Y/N) nodded, blinking fast. "I just- I've felt terrible all day because I didn't even remember until second period." She looked down at the books in her hand, hating the heavy ache in her chest. It usually came and went, easily dismissable, but today it just seemed to continue swelling like a balloon.

"I used to spend holidays locked in my room. I didn't want to do anything but sleep and be alone," Talbott admitted, causing (Y/N) to peer up at him despite her misty eyes. "My extended family thought I should go see my parents’ graves or share happy memories, but I would always refuse. I didn't want to be happy without them, it made me feel guilty."

(Y/N) nodded, quickly wiping her face with her sleeve as a tear leaked out.

"It took some time, but now I know that's stupid. Your brother would want you to be happy. You can't spend every second worrying about where he is or what's happened to him- that wouldn't help anyone."

(Y/N) breathed in a deep breath of fresh air, feeling the knot in her chest loosen a little at Talbott's words.

"Just like I can't spend my entire life forcing myself to be miserable. That won't bring my parents back. If anything, that's letting You Know Who win."

Despite her sniffling, (Y/N) forced a smile at Talbott, grateful more than ever that he was her friend. "Thank you- for everything." (Y/N) peered up at him innocently and his eyebrows raised in response. "Can I hug you again?"

Talbott laughed, shaking his head before bracing himself. "I guess."

With that, (Y/N) wrapped her arms around Talbott’s waist and rested her head against his chest. "Thanks," she whispered, smiling to herself as the gap in her heart fill just a little bit.

At first Talbott was rigid again, but as she stayed there, (Y/N) felt his posture slowly relax against her and, for a brief moment in time, she could have sworn he even hugged her back.

"Tell anyone about this and you're dead," he muttered into her ear, causing an unfamiliar nerve to prickle at the back of her neck and send a tingle down her spine.

(Y/N) squeezed her friend one last time in response before pulling back, feeling for the first time that day that everything was going to be okay. "Thanks again for being my tutor. I really appreciate it."

"Stop thanking me," he groaned. "That's what friends are for, right?"

(Y/N) beamed at him but before she could respond, Talbott placed the small pot he had been fiddling with into her free hand. (Y/N) blinked at it, staring down at the single flower in front of her.

"There's a pretty flower for you. It's called a Moly."

(Y/N) just continued to stare down at the black stemmed, white petal flower, utterly speechless. Did Talbott Winger just give her a flower?

"It can counteract enchantments if you eat it."

(Y/N) gasped and pulled the pot defensively close. "No one is touching this flower, let alone eating it. You green thumbs are weirdos." She brushed the soft petals gently with her thumb. "How did you make it so fast?"

"I used to help my mom plant them all the time. They're really valuable to Healers, it's no big deal."

"It is to me." (Y/N) looked down at her flower admiringly. "So, how do I not kill it?"

Talbott laughed. "All it needs is water a couple times a week."

"Low maintenance, I like it. You know what, this is better than a friendship bracelet."

Talbott groaned again and started toward the door. "You're ridiculous."

"What? I finally have proof of our friendship," (Y/N) said, grinning.

"You know I'll deny it if anyone asks."

"I know." She glanced down at the flower again, unable to stop the flutters in her stomach. "Hey Talbott, would you show me how to plant this sometime?"

Talbott paused for a minute before briefly glancing over his shoulder at her and nodding. "Sure."

(Y/N)'s stomach flipped and she held the plant tight to her chest. She could definitely get used to having this new Herbology tutor.

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