looneyleyle

[looneyleyle]

the cauldron chronicles ~ n. longbottom

synopsis: when the niece of rita skeeter starts up a hogwarts newspaper, the cauldron chronicles, secrets are revealed, friendships torn, and total chaos consumes the school. how will the beloved herbology professor and the new care of magical creatures assistant fare as the rumors fly?

warnings: very sleepily edited, probably mistakes here and there

word counter: 6651 words

third person pov

the great hall was buzzing with excitement, the sort that could only come with the first dinner back from summer holidays. students everywhere reconnecting with friends, chattering on about every minuscule detail of their break. the warm glow of the fires lining the room, as well as the rich aroma of all the roast dinners, pies, and puddings awaiting, made it feel properly homey, a home away from home.

"now, now, settle down." headmistress minerva mcgonagall called, grabbing the attention of the crowded hall. "i would like to introduce our newest staff member, miss isla maccrae, who will be assisting professor hagrid in the teaching of the care of magical creatures." she announced, gesturing towards the newest face at the table. isla stood up, waving politely at the tables of students. it was a bit nerve wracking, isla wasn't used to such attention. the hall erupted with polite applause, whispers rippling through the crowd about the newest, and youngest, addition to the hogwarts faculty. at the ripe age of 22, isla was offered the position by a senior caretaker at the sanctuary she had previously worked at. and now, here she was, standing up in front of the hall filled with students, her stomach doing somersaults, trying to keep her head high as to give off an impression of confidence.

confidence. that was what isla told herself she needed going into this role. she was never shy, per se, but after the past three years working with a small staff of sheepish mazoologists and healers taking care of various magical creatures, the loud and rambunctious environment was something she'd have to get used to again. an air of confidence would hopefully make the students respect her, since she was already so young, being only four years older than her eldest students. it helped that she would be only assisting with lessons under hagrid, who had about a decade of teaching experience under his big belt by now.

"now, yeh'll wanna be firm. but not too firm, er else yeh'll scare 'em off. yer a professer, err- well, an assistant professer, got to show 'em yeh mean business." hagrid advised, watching as the herds of third years made their way down the grounds, ready for their first care of magical creatures lesson for the year. isla tried to take hagrid's words to heart, but they really didn't strike much of a chord in her. what did toughness have to do with teaching third years about flobberworms? so, she stood there, a polite smile on her face as the third years all gathered around, ready to learn.

lessons flew by with isla mostly just observing, helping out a confused student from time to time. before she knew it, she was back in the great hall, plopped down to the left of professor slughorn. it was weird to her, teaching alongside a professor she had sat in potions with only a few years prior. he certainly was still the oddball, maybe even with a few more screws loose than when she was a student. or maybe he was always like that, and she just never knew. it wasn't like she paid much attention to potions anyways. to her left at the table was none other than the war-hero-turned-auror-turned-herbology-professor neville longbottom. he was in her year back at school, a well known gryffindor, at first for being a bit of an outsider in the gryffindor house, and later for being a leader after harry left hogwarts, and eventually a war hero for standing up to he-who-must-not-be-named and killing his snake. isla wanted to talk to him, to see if he'd maybe recognised her, but professor slughorn wouldn't shut his mouth for even a second. he droned on and on about the rarity of blast-ended skrewt stingers, assuming that because of her speciality in the subject of creatures, she would for some reason care about the black market wares of their stingers.

dinner came and went, and she made her way to a part of the castle that she had never been to prior to the past few days. students were never allowed anywhere near the faculty chambers, not that they'd want to be anyways.

the door to her specific chamber was being a bit problematic, not wanting to budge as isla tried quite embarrassingly to push open the door, ultimately to no avail.

"need some help there?" a voice called from next to her. isla was so caught up in her door being stuck that she didn't notice… professor longbottom? neville? she really had no idea what to call him.

"if you don't mind. i was able to open it just fine the past couple of days, rowena knows why it's being so difficult now." she sighed, moving out of the way for the man to open her door.

"it happens quite a bit, really. all you have to do is give the knocker a good tap of the wand, and… voila." he demonstrated as he went, and sure enough, the door slid open the second he took his wand off of the surface. a breath of relief could be heard beside neville, isla really didn't want to go the whole night waiting for another professor to come by. it was a bit embarrassing, really, not being able to open a bloody door.

"thank you very much… professor longbottom? i guess i don't really know what to call you these days." neville let out a quiet laugh, reassuring the girl.

"longbottom or neville work just fine. no need for the formalities, we did spend seven years here together. i get what you mean though, it's a bit strange for a while, referring to your old professors by their names, makes it all feel a bit too surreal. not to mention wonky. i still call mcgonagall 'professor' from time to time." he rambled. she had only met neville once or twice during their time at hogwarts, due to their mutual friend, luna, but it warmed her heart to see that he hadn't totally lost his endearing awkwardness that seemed to characterise him during their schooling years. it was quite apparent that he had grown though, even since the battle. physically, he seemed more mature, more weathered. his posture was straighter, more sure of himself, not sporting the slouched shoulders and lowered head she'd see him walking the corridors with years ago. even in the way he talked, even if he was rambling, he was obviously more comfortable in his own shoes, something that was nice to see as someone who only knew him in brief.

"it definitely is. when i was doing my rounds last night, i felt like mcgonagall would come up and take points from my house for being out of bed." she laughed, neville joining in. their laughter quickly died down, but neither made a move to leave.

"i'm a bit surprised that you remember me, honestly. i don't think i really stood out at all. especially compared to you, the whole wizarding world knows your name." she commented, fiddling with her hands a bit. neville's brows twisted in confusion at her words, before an embarrassed coat of pink dusted his cheeks.

"it really wasn't anything special, anyone else would've done it too." he waved off, seriously undermining his contribution to them winning the war. "besides, you were friends with luna. she'd talk about you, y'know. sounded like you were a really great friend to her." it was isla's turn to get a bit red in the face, finding out that luna would talk about her in such a positive light.

"she's an exceptional witch. a bit eccentric, of course, but it's far better than being boring, in my humble opinion."

"wise words. wouldn't expect anything less from a ravenclaw." he commented. the two stood there yet again for a moment, a bit of an awkward silence between them. neville cleared his throat before looking at the door to the room next to hers.

"anyways, i should probably get some shut-eye. i'm just a door down if you need anything." he told her before crossing the few steps to get in front of his door.

"be careful, i might end up knocking at your door in the middle of the night with something else not working." she joked, opening up her door. he smiled, opening up his door as well.

"and i'll be there to help with whatever. g'night mccrae."

"night longbottom." with a close of her door, isla stood there for a moment, smile involuntarily taking over her face. she took a second to recollect herself before continuing on with her night, knowing she had a long day of lessons awaiting her when the sun would rise.

from then on, isla became much more accustomed to her role, not to mention more comfortable. her love for the creatures was evident, often going off on long side tangents when students would come to her with questions. she accredited it to her ravenclaw-ness, having seemingly millions of factoids memorised about each and every creature, as a species as well as the specific creatures they took care of at hogwarts. hagrid was beyond impressed, always making sure to tell her as much.

"it's a gift, what yeh've got. yeh'll be a professer in no time."

hagrid's praise most certainly helped with isla's comfortability. he'd even have her take over classes at times, having more passion than he for the subject. the two of them became good colleagues, seeing as they already were well acquainted from isla's time as a student of his.

not only was isla becoming comfortable with her role, but also her routine -especially her routine with a certain herbology professor. neville and isla's class schedules were similar, leading to the two often walking to and from the castle grounds, the great hall, and even their chambers together. it was never a surprise to see the two together, which made sense, the two of them being the closest staff members in age.

it was a fine autumn's morning, the leaves already fallen, a chill to the air, signaling that winter was approaching. students were bustling about in their casual attire, seeing as it was a weekend and most of them were on their way to hogsmeade. a knock was heard at isla's door, interrupting her and her cup of tea. it was curious, isla didn't normally have visitors on the weekends. she would spend them relaxing in her chambers, watching quidditch matches on her muggle television, enhanced with wizarding channels, of course, and grading various parchments. opening the door, she found a slightly sheepish looking neville there, twiddling with his hands. isla became acutely aware of her appearance; a muggle band t-shirt and pyjama pants, along with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and hair messily thrown into a braid. she quickly ran a hand over any bumps in her hair, as if that would improve her appearance

"hello isla. how are you this morning?" he asked, his hands still fidgeting with each other.

"it's going well, how about you?" she asked back, a polite smile on her face.

"it's going alright. i was wondering if you would come with me to hogsmeade?" he asked, isla's eyes widening a bit at his words, cheeks heating involuntarily. realizing the implications, his eyes grew to the size of saucers, quick to stumble over his words.

“no- i uh- what i meant to say, is that i need to go to dogweed and deathcap to get alihotsy seeds for my newts class on monday. i’m fresh out and er- well, i was wondering if you'd like to accompany me.” he stammered. isla sported a warm smile as neville rambled, which did not help him to concentrate on getting the words out.

"i can be ready in a few if you wouldn't mind waiting a couple of minutes." she replied softly. neville smiled, giving her an enthusiastic nod as she retreated back into her chambers.

isla spent a bit longer than she expected, taking longer than usual to pick out an outfit that would ultimately be covered up by her coat, as well as casting a glamour spell (twice, as she felt the first wasn't sufficient. not that she cared about what neville thought of her looks. no, of course not).

and when isla opened the door, neville was still standing there, now fumbling with the zipper of his coat. his eyes met hers, giving her his usual, wide, ever-so-slightly crooked smile.

"ready?" he asked.

"lead the way." she gestured, quickly falling into step with the tall man.

it would always take neville a bit to get comfortable in his conversations with isla before he stopped stumbling over his words, but once he did, he would passionately ramble about whatever plants he was growing in the greenhouse, either to teach about in lessons, or as personal passion projects. in turn, on the occasion that she did have something to say, he would quickly shut up and listen to isla go on about whatever creature that had her so excited.

"a hinkypunk? blimey, aren't they supposed to be a bit bothersome?" neville inquired as isla told him stories of her old job on their walk to dogweed and deathcap.

"normally, yes. but fizzbit? he's been with the sanctuary for so long, he's learned better than to harm any of us. he does like to play tricks from time to time, hiding in remote corners and calling out to us. it's like a game of hide and seek to him. but really, he's such a sweetie. he even let me put a little santa hat on his lantern one christmas. the last keeper to try and do that got a nasty burn on their hand, but fizzbit has a soft spot for me, i know it." she gushed, talking about one of her favorite creatures back at the sanctuary.

"do you miss it there?" neville asked.

"always." she answered immediately, before continuing, "i love all of the creatures there, having spent almost every day for two years with them. i still work there over summer holiday, but it is a bit hard to go this long without seeing them all." she told him.

"do you- do you think you'll go back there after this year? for good?" he continued, trying not to give away the sadness he felt from the possibility of her leaving. it had only been a few months, but having isla in his day-to-day life at hogwarts gave him something more to look forward to. a friend, something that he had gone the last two years here without. well- pomona and minerva were always quite nice to him, as well as finneas, the muggle studies professor, but all of them were at least ten years older than him (in pomona and minerva's case, well past ten years older). isla was his age, a kind soul he only knew in passing during his time in school, and her presence was something he loved having now. he didn't want to lose that so quickly -or ever, for that matter.

"probably not." isla replied after thinking a bit too long for neville's liking. "i would like to return when i'm too old to teach, or whenever minerva gets sick of me, but i quite enjoy teaching students. it's the whole reason i took the job in the first place. i would often be the one taking sponsors, interns, and other guests around the sanctuary, telling them all about the creatures we had there. the kindly old owner of the sanctuary, mr. reuben, reckoned i had a knack for teaching. he's an old friend of mcgonagall, and he recommended me to her, and the rest is history." she explained. neville let out a breath of relief, while also making a mental note about everything she was saying. he loved learning more about isla, especially things that others at the castle didn't necessarily know.

the two continued talking about whatever came to mind as they walked into dogweed and deathcap, not paying the owner, kindly old belinda green, much attention. not that she cared, she was fascinated that neville, who had been a patron of the store since his days in school, brought someone with him for the first time ever, and that said person was a girl. she could barely contain her smile as she rang up neville's order, isla oblivious to the look mrs. green was giving them. neville, however, was all too aware.

after that day, it became common for the two to run errands together. once the weather turned cold, they would find themselves in the three broomsticks or hog's head, sitting cozy at the corner of the bar, butterbeers in their mitten-covered hands, laughing about things that happened in their lessons. all was peaceful in their lives.

that is, until the paper.

not just any paper, one might add. poppy skeeter, niece to once-popular rita skeeter, found that she had inherited her aunt's same nosiness and flare for spreading gossip.

so, one morning, as the post arrived, there was a record number of owls flying in -some with parchments and parcels, but all bearing the same newspaper. murmurs broke out amongst the tables, everyone looking at what they would come to realise was the first-ever edition of the cauldron chronicles, poppy skeeter's weekly source of news for 'the ins and outs of hogwarts'. the "ins and outs" in question, however, were merely gossip, gossip, and more gossip. the first issue covered a variety of topics, ranging from the star slytherin keeper cheating not only on his tests, but his newest girlfriend as well, an interview with peeves about some of the pairs he's seen sneaking about the corridors late at night, and the coming retirement of their beloved hagrid from his position as a professor, going back to simply being a gamekeeper, with miss isla maccrae taking his place after the school year ends. everywhere, whispers and chatter were spreading, glances shifting between every named person in the article. poppy skeeter simply sat there, pleased with herself as she watched everyone's reactions. some people even stormed out of the hall, including veronica wentsworth, followed by what everyone assumed would now be her ex boyfriend, the slytherin claiming, rather unconvincingly, that the rumors were false. the professors could only sit there at the head table, watching the commotion in morbid curiosity, wondering what could possibly be getting everyone so riled up. eventually, one of the students, a young third year who had clearly lost a bet and looked scared out of his mind, came up to hagrid.

"is it true? that you're retiring?" he asked. all eyes were on hagrid, as he choked and sputtered on his meal, not expecting the boy to ask such a thing.

"i- er- well- it's-" he continued stammering, and that was all the confirmation most needed.

hagrid's retirement was far from public knowledge, not even amongst the professors. only the headmistress, isla, and hagrid himself knew.

that night, after having a long conversation with mcgonagall and hagrid, assuring them she told absolutely no one about the retirement, isla was stopped outside of her door by none other than neville.

"is it true? about hagrid retiring?"

"cat's out of the bag i suppose. it wasn't exactly finalised, having to make sure i was fit to take over and that i actually want the position and all, but yes, that was kind of the reason why mcgonagall brought me on." she explained. neville simply nodded, taking the information in. yet again, that selfish little part of him was excited, hearing further confirmation that isla would likely be staying at hogwarts for a long time to come.

poppy skeeter sure made a profit off of the nosiness of the hogwarts student body. for one knut, students would receive a weekly edition with all the latest gossip. and like chizpurfles to a crup, they were hooked, students lining up to throw their money at poppy.

the next edition of the cauldron chronicles covered a quidditch scandal, with some of the ravenclaw players being paid off to intentionally throw the past slytherin vs. ravenclaw game that put slytherin ahead of gryffindor in team wins, the peculiar, shifty habits of professor slughorn, a secret student club meeting in the forbidden forest, and the dating history of their dear bachelor professor longbottom, only 22 and apparently a heartthrob amongst the students. the section went over his brief time with the boy-who-lived's wife, ginny potter nee weasley, his time with luna lovegood for a brief moment after the war, and his short-lived relationship with hannah abbott while he was an auror. neville turned bright red at the head table as he sensed all eyes on him, girls giggling and pointing at him. he turned impossibly redder when he picked up a discarded edition from one of the empty tables on his way out.

"'professor longbottom, school heartthrob, with boyish charm and a handsome frame. all of the ladies take owl and newt level herbology just to swoon during his lectures. how has this hunky professor not been tied down? let's take a look into his brief history with a few select witches.'" isla read out dramatically, doing her rounds with neville. he simply groaned, hiding his face in his hands. isla laughed yet again at that, folding up the gossip paper and focusing her attention on the embarrassed man besides her.

"how did she even find all that out? no one here could have possibly known all that and told her, and she couldn't have reached out to anyone. luna is off in the amazons with her field research team, seamus was last in the states working on a proposal for-"

"calm down, no need to spiral. she did some extensive research, that's for sure. but trust me, none of your friends would be telling a 16 year old about your love life. and besides, you don't have a bad track record. a quidditch player, a famed mazoologist, and the caretaker of the leaky cauldron, training to be a healer? could be a lot worse, let me tell you." she reasoned. he nodded, still a bit abashed that all of his students now knew about, in his eyes, his embarrassing personal life.

as the weeks went on, the editions got more and more bruising, especially after christmas hols. the paper spoke of cheating, backstabbing, lying, and no one felt they could trust each other. professor mcgonagall tried to put a stop to it all, citing that the paper was libelous and harmful to students, but it only led to the paper being spread through secret networks, which only added to its appeal. of course, it also led to an uncharge of 3 knuts for the subscription, something quite incredulous but not enough to deter these gossiping chimaeras from getting their paws on each new edition.

with this secret network of dispensing the papers, the faculty was now out of the loop, leading to a seemingly peaceful couple of weeks for the staff. which was great, as the pile of parchments waiting to be graded and lesson plans to be devised seemed to grow faster than a puffapod. oftentimes, isla would find herself grading in silence alongside neville, the two growing closer by the day. the arrangement started when isla had a particularly rough time concentrating on devising the next day's lesson plan, coming to neville for help. after that, the two fell into a routine of grading in the greenhouse during their free period.

they should have seen it coming, really. even before the paper came out, students were whispering about the two of them. neither paid the comments much mind, living in a blissful state of naivety, assuming the students were only making comments to them and not to each other. but, one snowy morning, they couldn't help but hear their names being thrown all around the great hall, all eyes seemingly on them.

"i don't like the sound of this." isla whispered to him as she blew on her soup, pretending to not notice all of the stares.

"it can't be that bad." was all he was able to muster, slightly cowering in his seat from all of the attention on him.

it was, indeed, that bad. though, in all reality, it wasn't, but to the two of them? it was embarrassing, borderline mortifying, and the worst part was, it wasn't even the truth!

the newest edition of the cauldron chronicles's main story was on the alleged love affair going on between herbology professor longbottom and care of magical creatures assistant professor miss maccrae. it had moving pictures, and pretty incriminating ones at that. the first was of neville leaving her chambers, very clearly at a late hour of the night. the two of them had been watching a harpies-bats game on the muggle television set isla had in her room, and got caught up in chatting into the wee hours afterwards. the next photo was of isla leaving the greenhouse mighty disheveled, fixing her hair while attempting to hide a smile, her cheeks seemingly red, though it was hard to tell in the black and white photo. she was helping neville with a particularly nasty batch of chinese chomping cabbages, leading to the two running around the greenhouse, simultaneously chasing the cabbages and making sure they didn't get bit. as for the smile and blush, that was, admittedly, due to neville's endless spouting of praise and thanks towards her, not that she'd admit he had that kind of effect on her. and finally, the seemingly least incriminating photo to the students, and yet the nail in the coffin for the pair: the two of them at the three broomsticks, looking at each other with lovesick gazes, butterbeers gripped tightly in their hands. this was the worst of the photos because it actually was as it seemed. the first two painted them out to be sneaking around and participating in some… risqué acts, but this final photo? there was nothing else to it. just the two of them, a bit tipsy, blatantly admiring the other. they were able to avoid confronting the other about their overly friendly behavior when they had a few drinks in them thus far because they never felt the need to think about it sober. but now, with the whole student body analyzing the way they looked at each other, they were terrified, because it meant they had to face the facts as well, and that the other was also doing the same.

the next morning, when neville stepped out of his chambers, ready to walk with isla to the great hall, he found that she was nowhere to be seen. the lights in her chamber were off, and a pit sank in his stomach as he realised that she hadn't waited up for him. so, he trudged alone towards the great hall, only now realising truly how long of a walk it was. when he got there, isla was in her seat, food gone, zoning out as professor slughorn went on and on about some shortage in puffskein hair, obviously trying to have her invite him to the pen of them in the forest to collect some, "for research purposes". neville made his way over, and when he sat down, she looked up at him, eyes bright for a moment before looking quickly down at her plate.

"hey, sorry for not waiting up." she mumbled, slughorn still oblivious to the fact that she was not even the slightest bit listening to a word he spouted.

"no worries." he mumbled back, truthfully a bit hurt and besides himself. he tried to tell himself that he was being daft, that this wasn't a big deal, but he could feel it. the shift in energy between them, it was all wrong. and of course, the whispers about the two of them were ever-present, their every move being scrutinised by the students.

the two were not prepared for the barrage of questions about each other they got during lessons. of course, the most common of them, "is it true? are you two seeing each other?" then there were those who assumed that everything they read is true, asking how long they've been together, who started it, what the other professor was like behind closed doors. the questions never seemed to end, not even during the lessons, no matter how hard they tried to get their students on track.

by the end of the day, the two were knackered, not having the energy in them to talk during dinner, just sitting in a somewhat tense silence.

the questions didn't stop. the whole week, students refused to let up, and without any new gossip to focus on, they were the hot topic of the school. even headmistress mcgonagall pulled neville to the side, asking if it was true. he was baffled, vehemently denying it, with a twinge of sadness in his voice. he hadn't realised how woven into his day-to-day life she was until now, with the two of them somewhat avoiding each other. they were adults, so naturally they weren't outright avoiding the other, but every chance to be helping someone else out, student or faculty, during their normal times together, they took, having valid excuses to not see the other. it was a lot on them, with all these feelings being brought to light against their will.

it was after classes were over on the friday of that week that the two of them truly talked again, and not on the terms either was necessarily hoping for.

rumors spread like wildfire about professor longbottom and his seventh-year newt-level herbology lesson. by the time isla was done with her lessons for the day, she had heard so many different versions of the story that she didn't know what to believe. a fifth year by the name of aisling o'sullivan told everyone that he had taken off 50 points from gryffindor for something sebastian moore did. third year callum kennedy swore professor longbottom punched sebastian, something isla seriously doubted, neville wouldn't hurt even a billywig. fiona clarke said he kicked sebastian out of class, oliver brown swore professor longbottom grabbed sebastian by the collar and threw him out of his seat, maeve mcallister reasoned that he simply yelled at sebastian and then moved on with the class, and ronan evans said he told sebastian to drop the class now, because he was going to fail him no matter what. every story she heard sounded much too extreme for the kindhearted, sheepish man she had come to know over the past couple of months. she all but ran out of her final lesson of the day, making a beeline for the great hall, relieved that the warmer weather had melted away any snow that could have slowed her down. neville was normally- well, scratch that. normally, the two of them would meet at the greenhouse and walk up to the castle together after friday lessons, but for the past week, neville had already been in the great hall by the time she finished up. her eyes immediately fell on neville's empty seat when she made it, in record time, to the great hall from the edge of the forbidden forest. she continued on to the head table, hoping neville would pop up soon.

after dinner was well on underway, and neville still hadn't shown up, isla became restless. in the middle of slughorn's rant about the rise in price of clabbert pustules, isla cut him off, not finding it in her to care about his needless complaints.

"do you have any idea where professor longbottom is?" she asked hurriedly. slughorn was taken aback, eyes wide at her sudden outburst. his shoulders slumped down, realizing she hadn't cared about his rant.

"no, i haven't my dear, i'm sorry." he replied before returning to his food, soon looking to the professor on his right to chat their ear off about who knows what. isla couldn't sit there any longer. she fixed up a plate of shepard's pie, soda bread, and roasted carrots before making the trek up to his chambers.

she knocked at his door a bit too harshly for her liking, but she couldn't help it. she was worried for her… acquaintance? friend? colleague? man plaguing her dreams? her head was swimming with thoughts, so much so that she didn't notice the door in front of her opening. there in front of her was neville, but his aura seemed so… different. he was tense, no smile on his face, a furrow in his brow. if she wasn't so concerned for him, she would have taken a moment to appreciate his casual wear; a warm looking hoodie, gray plaid pyjama pants, and the pair of fuzzy bowtruckle patterned socks she had bought for him during one of their last supply runs in diagon alley.

"hey." was all she managed to say, almost a bit intimidated by his gaze. he stared quietly at her and the plate of food before returning the "hey," moving out of the way so she could come in.

"i uh, you weren't at dinner, so i brought you some shepards pie." she told him, holding the plate out for him. he finally cracked a small smile, a major improvement in her books.

"thank you." the two stood there for a second. neville knew the question was coming, surely someone had told her what had happened by now.

"so… i've heard a lot of rumors about you and sebastian moore today." she started. neville nodded, lips tightening into a straight line, already feeling himself getting worked up again.

"yeah? and what have they been saying?" he asked quietly, staring down at his hands, eyes flickering to hers every couple of moments, staring deeply. even with his apparent nervousness, she felt so small in that moment. isla knew he wasn't doing it on purpose, he just had such… intensity right now, and she wasn't used to it.

"a lot of things." she finally breathed. "some about you taking points away, some about you breaking his nose, and pretty much everything in between." she responded, watching his face for any indication of what was true. the side of his mouth twitched upwards at the rumors, finding it entertaining how the story had been spun.

"and what do you think?" he asked, a small, amused smirk finding place on his face as he crossed his arms. despite this little confident facade, she could see a glimpse of that boyish glint in his eyes and nervous pink dusting his cheeks, which all reminded her that this was her neville. well, not hers hers, but the neville she was used to.

"what do i think?" she repeated, playing off of his slightly amused tone.

"yeah. which rumor do you believe?" he asked, curiosity woven throughout his words.

"none of them." she told him. "you're too kind to have done any of the things i heard." his expression softened at her words.

"so what really did happen then?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper, knowing that something must have happened. his face hardened, thinking back on the day. he walked over to the table, putting the plate down and fiddling around with the papers strewn over it, trying to make himself busy so he wouldn't have to look at her while he told her.

"he was talking inappropriately, and i made sure that he wouldn't speak that way again."

"that's ambiguous." she commented, not having really gained anything from his clipped retelling. neville sighed, turning back to face isla, but not looking her in the eyes.

"he was talking inappropriately about you. i told him to never talk about you like that again, or else. mcgonagall had a chat with me about not threatening students after word got out. i needed a moment to cool off, so i came up here. i honestly didn't even realise i had missed dinner." isla's eyes went wide at the revelation, staring at the man in front of her, waiting for him to return her gaze.

"what did he say?" she couldn't help her curiosity. what could he have possibly said that set neville off. he wasn't so easily bothered to get him into, in neville standards, a full on rage like this.

"it doesn't matter, he knows not to say anything like it again." he told her, finally making eye contact again.

"what did he say neville." she almost demanded. his jaw clenched, looking away for a moment to collect his thoughts.

"started off with the rumors about us, said you were too good for me. i didn't disagree. but then he got foul, talking about your body and-" his fists were clenched at his sides, not wanting to remember how that slimy git talked about you. "and that's when i decided he needed to know to never speak about you like that." isla just nodded, looking up at neville, so many emotions swirling within her. she was at a loss for words, not knowing whether to spill her deepest feelings about him, or to just let him calm down, or to hug him, or pull him onto the couch…

instead of all of that, she simply took a step forward, getting up close and personal with neville. he looked down at her, and she felt so tiny looking up at him. a thought popped into her head, and before she could convince herself otherwise, she quickly got up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, whispering 'my hero' by his ear before popping back down onto flat feet, watching his reaction anxiously with a blush on her cheeks. neville's face seemed to explode with color, any trace of his somewhat-tough guy facade immediately vanishing, his normal, adorable, lopsided, boyish grin spread across his face. he stared down at her with so much adoration, maybe even more than the picture in that stupid cauldron chronicles paper. the two seemed glued to their spots, stupid, lovesick grins overtaking their expressions. they were relieved, no, ecstatic that not only did they have their friend back, but they also found out that their pining wasn't as one-sided as they thought. after a couple more long moments, isla looked away, rubbing at her arms.

"anyways, i just wanted to drop off the food and find out what happened, so uh- i'll just… leave you to it then." she said, making her way out of his chambers when he made no move to stop her, simply following behind her.

as she stepped back out into the corridor, she turned back, looking up at neville. they were a lot closer than isla realised, nearly toe-to-toe with the other. from this close arrangement, she could see the pink still covering his cheeks and ears. the two wouldn't stop staring, not knowing how to react to the newfound dynamic between them. his body betraying him, neville's eyes dipped down to isla's lips, and taking quick notice, she did the same to him. just as she was about to speak, neville cut her off in a bought of gryffindor bravery.

"can i-"

"please." she didn't even let him finish, quickly wrapping her arms around his neck as he dove down to connect their lips, hearts soaring as these months of pining finally seemed to come to an end.

and sure enough, the next edition of the cauldron chronicles had quite the incriminating photo attached, one that had the two subjects of said question blushing, hands intertwined underneath the table. students, naturally, buzzed with excitement at the news, even a certain headmistress looking over at the two with a proud smile on her face, allowing this outright inappropriate public conduct to slide just this once.

[looneyleyle]

quidditch and dragons and hot younger brothers ~ c. weasley

synopsis: maeve has been close with the weasleys for years, but after 5 years away, she can't get over how much they've all grown. especially the charred dragon tamer. or, in which her best friend's younger brother may be the one for her!

warnings: small mentions of anxious tendencies (skin picking), unedited as always

word counter: 7156 words

**image is NOT mine!!

third person pov

"now boys, your father has a very exciting announcement to make!" molly weasley cheered, focused in on her three youngest boys. the rest of her children all sat at the back of the table in front of her. the eldest sons, along with ginny, all sat there, smiles on their faces, some with jittery legs bouncing up and down at the coming announcement. arthur, who was beside molly, stepped forward, smile brewing on his lips.

"we will be going to this year's quidditch world cup!"

the boys exploded in cheers, the quaint home filled with whoops and hollers and yells of all sorts. ginny was practically bouncing out of her seat, happy that she didn't ruin the secret for her brothers. bill and charlie sat in the back, arms folded across their chests, happy to be back home and to see their family this happy. it had been a while for the two of them, with bill off in egypt and charlie in romania. my, how their siblings had grown, with even starry-eyed little ginny already going into her third year at hogwarts. and now, the two of them were there to spend the next few weeks with them, no work, no curses, no dragons, just a relaxing time with their family.

as the younger ones made their way upstairs for bed, still jumping around from excitement over the world cup, bill went to help his mum with the dishes, while charlie went over to arthur to help with some trinkets in the shed.

"y'know," he started, stacking the dirty plates together, "maeve owled that she's going to the world cup as well." molly gasped, throwing the towel in her hand down at the ground.

"and you haven't invited the girl over yet?! you must owl her straight away, and i expect her here by nightfall overmorrow. do you understand billius?" bill couldn't help but laugh, with the slightest twinge of fear, at his mother's tone.

he wrote to her straight away, and sure enough, maeve was there in their fireplace first thing the morning the day after receiving bill's owl, easily making it before the matron weasley's deadline. she was a bit disoriented, but the smile on her face wouldn't falter as she looked around the home she spent most holidays at during her time at hogwarts. it was all the same, the colorful furniture, the ever present sound of someone scurrying about, and the lovely clock, with all nine arrows pointed to the upper-left corner: 'HOME'. the smell of whatever dish molly had cooked up for breakfast wafted through the air, and maeve felt all the tension leave her. it was good to be back. a wobbled sound of footsteps rustled over to the entrance to the living room, and a pudgy mrs. weasley entered maeve's line of vision.

"oh maeve, darling, i'm so glad you're here!" she exclaimed, running towards her. maeve dropped her bags and returned the bear hug she found herself in.

"i came as soon as i got bill's owl. it's been too long." she returned, pulling away from the woman's grip. a couple more pairs of footsteps scurried on into the living room, each bug-eyed as their sights landed on the girl- the woman in front of them.

"maevey, is that you?" ginny exclaimed, already running over. maeve laughed, engulfing the younger girl into a hug, twirling her through the air like she did when ginny was just a tot.

"it's been so long! look at how grown you've gotten! i remember when you were all but this tall and i would be braiding your hair while your brothers were whacking garden gnomes! you've grown quite nicely." maeve exclaimed. the girl blushed, being set back down on the ground and pulling away from the older girl and going back to her breakfast. next up was ron- who was promptly cut off by fred, who pulled himself and george right up in front of maeve before ron had the chance.

"maeve!"

"it's been quite a while!"

"try this!"

"our treat!"

the two kept toppling over each other's words, leaving maeve's head spinning, laughing at the ever-present chaos the twins brought around with them.

"alright you knuckleheads, leave her alone." a voice called out from behind. bill was there, at the back of the room, an amused smile playing at his lips as he watched his younger brothers try to trick his best friend into eating their latest disaster candy. the two backed off, quipping comments at their brother. maeve's face lit up as she ran over to her best friend.

"bill, it's great to see you again!" she greeted, bringing the boy into a hug.

"it's been a while. hard to visit you when you're traveling all over."

"when i stopped in cairo on my way to ref the patonga proudsticks game, you were the one that was to busy to say hey." she argued, huffing dramatically, a teasing lilt to her voice.

"oh bugger off." he laughed, the two of them splitting apart. ron started bouncing up and down besides them at the mere mention of quidditch.

"blimey, you reffed a proudsticks match?!" he buzzed, adoration scribbled across his face. maeve smirked, coming closer to the boy.

"i reffed last year's catapults-cannons game, the one where galvin gudgeon debuted and caught the snitch within five minutes, a cannon's team record." maeve boasted, remembering ron's unwavering loyalty to the cannons. ron seemed as if he could burst, his face all bright red and cheeks puffed.

"bill, you didn't tell me your friend was this cool! a bloody quidditch ref, how d'you reckon i could land a job like that?" he gushed. maeve's smile didn't leave her face for a second; the boy's enthusiasm was infectious.

"you have to have good luck and actually be good at quidditch, unlike yourself. plus, not the most stable of jobs, better off doing something in the ministry." a snotty voice piped up, entering the room

"aww, percy, you haven't changed a bit. get over here!" maeve called, arms wide open. the boy rolled his eyes, but reluctantly walked over to the girl. she slammed him into a hug, ruffling up his perfectly styled hair.

"always cheesed off, aren't ya." she teased. percy promptly pulled away, smoothing out his clothes and straightening his back.

"i'll have you know, i am currently working at the department of international magical co-operation, under the lead of bartimous crouch." he bragged. maeve and bill shared a knowing look, having always commented on percy feeling the need to show off his accomplishments at any opportunity he got.

a final pair of footsteps clomped into the living room, and there stood charlie weasley, the last of the weasley children up that morning. his eyes were still glazed with sleep, but at the sight of maeve in the living room, he straightened up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes to make sure he was seeing this right.

and sure enough, it was indeed maeve walsh, standing in front of him after all these years, surrounded by his various siblings.

"well well well, look at you charles, all grown up." she said, smile growing impossibly wider. he couldn't fight the smile that grew on his face even if he wanted to as she came up to him, bringing him into her umpteenth hug of the day. he was still a bit out of it from sleep and slight shock, seeing the girl he had the biggest crush on as a schoolboy now five years later. she had grown a lot since he last saw her, much more mature, an air of confidence surrounding her.

she pulled him out to about an arm's length away, keeping her hands on his shoulders as she gave him a once over.

"look at this. scars, big burn on the arm, hair short, have you gotten more freckles? you sure have changed a lot haven't you? must be all that time wrangling dragons off in romania and whatnot." she laughed, giving him a cheeky wink. charlie tried to fight it, he was positively sure he had gotten over his childhood crush on his brother's best friend, but he couldn't help but turn red at her piercing gaze. if it had been but a few years prior, he would have absolutely melted on the spot.

"oh boys, leave the poor girl alone, let her at least leave the living room! you must be starving dearie, come on over, i have some sausages ready just for you." with that, the weasley children scrambled out of maeve's way, letting the girl finally enter the rest of the weasley home.

when she made her way to the kitchen, she saw arthur weasley there, finishing up the morning's edition of the daily prophet.

"well i'll be. if it isn't miss maeve walsh. it's been quite a bit since i've last seen you here!" he exclaimed, coming over from his seat to shake her hand.

"always a pleasure arthur. couldn't pass up an opportunity to spend more time back here."

"i'm afraid i must be leaving for work, but i do hope we can catch up over stew tonight. last i heard you're working as a quidditch referee? how exciting." he conversed, grabbing his suitcase and making his way to the fireplace. before maeve could reply, he was off.

as molly served up a generous plate of food ("my dear, are they starving you off at work? here, an extra helping of toast and eggs should do the trick!"), maeve just enjoyed watching the weasley children going about their day. it was as if she never left.

"it's so crazy seeing all of the weasleys in one place after all this time" she remarked to molly, accepting the plate from the woman. molly beamed as she looked out at all of the children scattered about the living room and kitchen.

"it sure is. couldn't ask for anything more," she started, a far-off look in her eyes, before zeroing her gaze back on the girl. "and now you're back as well! and ron's friends will be arriving in the following days, my, we'll see if the house can handle this many youngins running about." she fussed. "but make yourself at home dear. it really is great to have you back. now eat up!"

and with that, maeve began to dig in, with weasleys seemingly forming lines to talk to her. ginny pushed her way in front of her brothers, gushing about how she'd finally have another girl there besides hermione. being stuck with at least four boys all summer got quite boring to her, wanting to do more 'girly' things. fred and george tried yet again to sneak her some 'treats', but were stopped by molly, who came in hot, swatting at them with the towel she was using to dry off the dishes. ron came up just as maeve finished up her meal, chatting her ear off about all things quidditch, asking about the matches she's reffed, games she's watched, and general quidditch news. even percy chimed in with a few comments, mostly about some recent international wizarding decree violations by some members of the heidelberg harriers.

"boys!" molly's shrill voice yelled, bringing all of the weasley boys into the kitchen as maeve finished cleaning up her breakfast plate. "help maeve bring her stuff upstairs, would you? you'll be staying with bill and charlie in their room."

"just like old times." bill quipped, already going to pick up maeve's bags before he bumped into charlie, who was coincidentally also going to pick up her bags. bill gave his brother a quizzical look before it morphed into a knowing smirk, and charlie simply huffed before stepping back, allowing bill to help the girl out. the attention was quickly diverted off of them by a short and loud "eep!" coming from the woman of the hour. fred and george had hoisted her up onto their shoulders, careful to hunch down a bit so she wouldn't hit her head on the ceiling.

"we'll help you up there."

"too long of a journey to make on your own two feet."

"oh, boys, put her down! that's no way to treat a lady!" molly yelled.

"on the contrary mum, this is exactly how a lady should be treated!" george countered.

"swept off of her feet and carried up to her room by two true gentlemen!" fred exclaimed. maeve could only laugh, jokingly swatting at the boys until they gently let her back down onto her own feet. bill rolled his eyes but laughed regardless, beginning the familiar trek up to his shared room. as always, bill and her argued over the sleeping arrangements, with bill insisting that he sleep on the mattress on the floor and have her sleep on the bed. and like always, maeve forced him to compromise, with the two of them rotating between the bed and the floor mattress. and, again, just like olden times, just as they would settle the whole thing, charlie would come up and throw his name into the hat, saying how he couldn't let them take the floor while he had the bed the whole time. so, the three would all take turns sleeping on the, admittedly quite uncomfortable, floor mattress throughout the following week leading up to the world cup.

maeve's time back at the burrow couldn't be more nostalgic. even with everyone all grown up, they were the same crazy family as they always were. there was always some sort of noise echoing throughout the burrow, but it was never loud or obnoxious -or at least, usually not, so long as fred and george weren't involved. it was packed and people would always find themselves bumping into one another, especially with the addition of harry and hermione in the following days after maeve's arrival. it was just one big, loving family, and maeve wouldn't want to spend her summer days in any other way.

each day mirrored those summer days from way back when, from wizard's chess with ron to whacking gnomes with the twins to the whole-family quidditch matches. maeve felt like a young girl again, running around with the weasley children, all responsibilities temporarily forgotten. it was all the same.

except, of course, the ever present fact that everyone was, indeed, five years older. ginny was no longer a little girl who maeve would read bedtime stories to. now, ginny was asking for boy and hair and makeup advice. ron seemed to have his foot in his mouth a lot more now, especially around his friend hermione, something maeve didn't think was possible considering his unfiltered nature as a kid. fred and george were ever the pranksters, but they were undoubtedly smarter, more cunning, than before, having successfully slipped a couple mostly-harmless trick treats into her. percy was still stuck up, but with an even bigger ego than before, now that he had his impressive ministry job. bill, in maeve's eyes, stayed more or less the same, as she had kept up with him for the past five years.

but charlie, charlie seemed to be the one whose change messed with maeve the most. he was vastly more mature and composed than he ever was during her time knowing him. of course, maeve had known about his schoolboy crush on her, in fact, she knew about all the little crushes the younger weasley boys had on her. she was their older brother's best friend, the only consistent older girl in their lives, it was only natural that they all sought her attention to some varying degree. with charlie though, it was always obvious; tripping over words, always running to help her out, bragging about any and all accomplishments a little louder than he normally would if she was in the next room, et cetera. maeve, of course, never did anything about it, as he was just her best friend's little brother. it just wasn't something that ever crossed her mind; he was her best friend's younger brother and that was that, nothing more, nothing less.

now, though, charlie was more collected. he easily maintained a witty banter with her without stumbling to get words out. he no longer raised his voice to brag about himself, keeping a healthy dose of ego without listing off achievements like a resume. he was also less rigid around her, no longer standing stiffly the second she passed by, he was able to relax, to laugh with her. and most importantly, he didn't follow her around like a lost puppy. he was able to enjoy his family's presence without obsessing over where maeve was or if she could hear him.

and because of all of this, maeve found herself wanting to spend some more time with charlie, getting to know this new adult version of him better. admittedly, she found herself laughing a bit harder at his quippy jokes, and, not that she'd ever say it out loud, but wouldn't feel the need to look away right away when he came back into the house from helping arthur out in the shed, a thin layer of sweat covering his muscled arms, shown off by the simple tank he strutted around in.

the two spent a lot more time together than they ever had in the past, usually in the company of bill, of course.

late nights, they would find themselves alone in the living room, everyone else already tucked in and snoozing or in their rooms, chatting up a storm. it would just be maeve, charlie, and bill, with bill quickly falling asleep on the couch next to them ("what an old bogey" charlie would quip, his cheeks always being ever-so-slightly twinged pink, because let's face it, even if he was "over his schoolboy crush on her", maeve was a pretty, intelligent girl sitting there, now alone with him without his brother's teasing stare on him). one night, they were so immersed in their conversation that molly stumbled upon them, the sun peaking over the horizon, not a wink of sleep gotten.

the morning of the quidditch world cup, the adults, adult children, and hermione were the first ones up, scurrying around to pack their bags and get ready for the trip there. molly was preparing tea, scones, and some fruit for everyone as arthur made sure he had everything in order, from the portkey time to the tickets to the lot their tent was set up in.

"up up up, out the door, out the door in five minutes, all of you! you're going to be late!" molly rushed, motioning for them all to leave. hermione started up the stairs, already ready to rip the boys out of bed. percy followed behind her, jumping at the opportunity to yell at his troublesome younger brothers. maeve volunteered to go up to wake up charlie, pointedly ignoring the raise of bill's brow at her already bounding up the stairs.

when she got up there, she knocked somewhat quietly on the door. no response. she turned the knob lightly, opening it ever so slightly. charlie laid there, splayed out on his bed, snoring.

"charlie." she called out quietly. he looked so peaceful, sprawled out here, woven with the sheets. she just stood there for a beat, taking a moment to appreciate him.

"charlie, wake up" she said a bit louder, peeking her head a bit further in the room. finally, he woke up with a start, sitting up abruptly to look at whoever was at the door. his blanket quickly fell, showing off his skimpy sleep tank (which accentuated his arms quite nicely, a thought that maeve made sure to zip up).

"mhm, i'll be out in a sec." he replied before immediately flopping back down onto the bed, eyes closing again.

"charles septimus weasley, you'd better be out of bed in the next minute, or else you'll send your mother into a fit about us being late for the world cup." it was as if the mention of quidditch brought him back to life, jolting up and saluting the woman in his doorway, getting up and out of his bed.

"aye aye captain."

after surely much more than five minutes, the rest of the weasleys and company were out of bed, with ron and harry apparently giving hermione much more trouble than a sleepy charlie did maeve, and gathered outside of the burrow, ready to start the trek.

percy led the group with arthur, droning on and on about some ministry assignment. harry and ron held up the rear, sleepily dragging their feet through the grass, wishing they could be back in the comfort of ron's room, blankets wrapped tightly around them. a yawn could be heard from ron, leading hermione to shoot him a look from ahead mid-conversation with ginny. in front of the two girls were bill, maeve, and charlie clumped together, talking about the old days back at hogwarts and all that, as well as finally catching maeve up with everything they've been up to since. the three hadn't had the time during maeve's first few days back, as they had been chock-full of different activities. she had already known about most of the stuff with bill, for even though they had not seen each other much, the two would frequently owl. charlie, however, she knew virtually nothing about his time in the past couple of years. he told her all about these crazy dragon taming stories, but what caught maeve's sleepy attention was the care with which he would talk about these creatures. from nursing them back to health to sharing monumental moments in their lives with, he talked about these dragons with nothing but love and respect. he was always a fiercely passionate boy, realizing his love of magical creatures early on, but now? he was a fiercely passionate man, something she kept on reminding herself of with each look at his sculpted, scarred arms or built frame.

after what felt like forever, they finally reached the portkey, the trio not even noticing the addition of amos diggory and his son, too entrenched in their own conversation. everyone crowded the manky old boot, fred pushing bill out of the way to be next to maeve, giving her a quick wink. she rolled her eyes and leaned down, looking to her other side to see charlie thoroughly unamused by his brother's antics. they all grabbed on, and when it came time to let go, maeve had a wobbly descent, leading charlie to wrap a firm arm around her to stabilize her. maeve gave charlie an appreciative nod after they landed, charlie teasing her about her inability to use a portkey.

at the cup, ginny, hermione, and maeve split off from the rest of the group, going to their slightly smaller tent while the boys piled into the tent lent to arthur from perkins.

night quickly fell upon the field of partying wizards, everyone moving in droves to see what was sure to be a phenomenal game. the twins, who had an awfully suspicious looking conversation with none other than ludo bagman, were bursting with excitement, which seemed to be flowing through everyone there.

the arena hummed with energy from the get-go. the weasleys couldn't wait to watch, being the first major quidditch match that many of them had ever attended. after the uncomfortable encounter with the malfoys, they climbed and climbed ("blimey dad, how much higher?") until they reached the top. maeve was, of course, draped in green garments in support of her home team, ireland. bill was in similar robes, while charlie donned red and black, as most of the other dragon tamers back in romania pushed him to root for bulgaria.

maeve's face lit up as krum caught the snitch, the math in her head aligning with the realization of every irish supporter in the arena: 170-160, the score in favor of the green white and orange.

maeve gloated on and on about the win, beaming from ear to ear. charlie couldn't help but admire her, his love for quidditch was almost as big as his love for dragons, and seeing her passion rival his stirred something within him, something he had been fighting with himself over, the fact that she would be leaving only a day after weighing heavily on his chest.

"and youuu thought the bulgarians had a chance? ha! an absolute blowout of a game prior to krum's folly, and we weren't even the ones to catch the snitch! he's a right talented seeker, i'll give you that, but merlin is he a daft one!" she laughed, rubbing the win in charlie's face. bill was exhausted and retired to his bunk as soon as the group arrived at the tent, while charlie offered to walk maeve back the short distance to the girls' tent. hermione and ginny went to celebrate with the others in the main tent, leaving charlie and maeve to their own devices.

"yeah yeah, you win. but, if quigley hadn't whacked dimitrov with that bludger, which was of questionable legality, mind you, they would have at least had a shot."

"a perfectly legal hit from where i'm sitting, and i am the resident quidditch ref here." she gloated, hoisting herself up onto the small table behind her. charlie walked up, almost in between her legs, the firewhiskey the trio had shared earlier pumping charlie full of confidence, not backing down.

"oh yeah, because from where i'm sitting, i would say dimitrov only got hit by quigley's bludger because of moran attempting to blatch him. if dimitrov didn't think he was going to collide with moran, then he wouldn't have been sent straight into the bludger's path, and i think any good quidditch ref would be able to see that."

"questioning my integrity now are ya charlie?" maeve teased, scooting a bit further on the edge of the table, trying to get up in charlie's face. but, maeve scooted just a tad too far, sending the table tipping and maeve falling straight into charlie, who was able to catch her, but not fast enough to prevent them from toppling over onto the floor.

the moment was charged, uncharted territory for the two of them, so close together, truly alone for the first time practically ever, save from a few silent mornings eating breakfast years and years ago. charlie diffused the tension with a laugh, not trying to fall back into his schoolboyish ways with her. she returned with a hearty chuckle, getting off of him and pulling him up, a slight pink dust upon her cheeks. the two of them stood there for a second before yells were heard from outside, the tent flaps opening wildly.

"we have to go, now." arthur ordered, not even acknowledging how close the two had been, nor why the two of them were in the tent alone. the two looked at each other in shock and concern before maeve started pulling the two out of the tent. ginny, ron, harry, hermione, and the twins were nowhere to be seen, while bill and percy stood alongside their father, awaiting orders. noticing the concern on both of their faces at the missing parties, arthur spoke up.

"they're hiding. we have to help." was all he could rush out before a large blast of fire landed a couple tents down from them. charlie and maeve looked around to see people fleeing in all directions, and groups of masked wizards going around, chanting, destroying anything in their path, and tortuing innocent people. maeve's wand appeared in her hand in a flash, ready to fend them off.

the five of them ran about, ushering people into hiding while fighting off any death eaters that came into their path. charlie went off to help an elderly wizard couple get into the woods safely, causing him to be separated from the rest.

when the dark mark appeared, a chill ran up and down maeve's spine, and she became acutely aware of charlie's absence.

"why isn't charlie back yet." she growled through gritted teeth, but her words failed to cover up the worry in her tone. bill noticed, but had nothing to say to help ease her worries -he was equally, if not more so, worried about charlie's location as she was.

after what felt like hours, the weasleys and friends were reunited, and arthur was quick to send the children home with the adult weasleys minus percy, who would stay behind with arthur to help the ministry clean up and assess damages. bill and maeve ushered the group to the emergency portkeys that had been brought in by the ministry.

upon arriving home, molly bombarded them, hugging each of her children, making sure they were alright. she was worried when she didn't see arthur or percy, but her worries were eased when charlie explained that they had stayed back to help. after molly sent everyone up to bed, the kids had so many questions, and so they followed the adults up to their room. harry, ron, and hermione all sat on the floor mattress, fred and george leaded up against the far wall, and ginny sidled up next to maeve on charlie's bed, still a bit spooked.

"death eaters? what are death eaters?" harry asked, feeling a bit silly that everyone else knew what they were.

"it's what you-know-who's supporters called themselves. i think we saw what's left of them tonight." bill explained.

"but what were they doing there?" ginny continued. bill shrugged.

"your guess is as good as ours. death eaters haven't been active for years now, most of them either in azkaban or too afraid to end up there to show their faces." maeve said, twiddling her thumbs. she tried to seem neutral in front of the younger ones, but on the inside, there was a twinge of paranoia within her. the last time the dark mark had appeared was during the war, and maeve didn't want to think about the implications that had on what was to come.

"what we do know is that the ministry has this covered. the death eaters are gone, a fair amount of them captured tonight. it'd probably be best if we all got some shuteye." charlie suggested, getting up to escort the younger ones to their rooms. charlie went upstairs with the twins, ron, and his friends, while bill went with ginny across the stairway, knowing she was more than rattled and that she would probably need someone with her tonight.

"you take the bed tonight. i'm gonna stay with ginny, help her get some peace of mind. g'night." bill told her, pulling her into a quick side hug before following his sister out and to her room.

aloen in the room with her thoughts, maeve couldn't find it in her to move to get off to bed. she sat there on charlie's bed, unmoving, staring out the dark window into the abyss.

a bit later, charlie came back into the room, finding maeve in the exact same spot as earlier. his brow furrowed, and he sat up next to her.

"hey, maeve, what's wrong?" he asked, trying to get a good look at her face. she wouldn't look at him, only looking between the window and her hands, with her fingers picking at the skin around her nail.

"i guess i'm a bit more worried than i realized." she mumbled. charlie placed one of his big hands over hers, stopping her hands from continuing.

"i'm not going to lie to you and tell you that everything is okay, but i can tell you that you're okay. you're safe here, and i know that for a fact." he told her, hoping he was being comforting. he wasn't really used to this, spending more time recently comforting dragons rather than humans. she smiled lightly at his words before nodding, getting up to change into her pyjamas.

when she got back into the room, charlie was already changed, sitting upright on the edge of his bed. he looked at her, waiting for her to say something, his concerned, analytical gaze resting on her frame. when she made no move to say anything or move, he got up.

"are you sure you're okay?" he asked, moving a bit closer to her. she felt silly, the request that popped up into her mind. she nodded, but she was like an open book to charlie, he could tell something was still wrong.

"c'mon darling, you can tell me anything."

"would it-" she started, her hands coming back up to each other again.. charlie watched her hands like a hawk, so she simply clasped them together. "would it be alright if we pushed the beds together? i know it's silly, but-" before she could finish, he was already on it, pushing bill's bed up to his, grabbing a blanket from the floor mattress and wrapping it around her shoulders. this was what he did best, not the talking, but the showing of his care. words weren't his forte, but actions sure as hell were.

and so she hopped into bill's bed, and after turning off the lights, charlie hopped into his, but the two of them met in the middle, only a wee bit of space in between the two. charlie reached an arm out around maeve, watching her face as he did so.

"is this okay?" he whispered. as a response, maeve pulled herself close to him, slotting herself just millimeters away from his body, nodding so he could feel the movements on his chest. he started to rub slow and soft circles into her back, and before he knew it, the two of them were out.

the two woke up to maeve's head buried in charlie's chest, charlie's hand rubbing languid strokes against her shoulder. feeling maeve shifting around in his arms, charlie slowly opened his eyes, being met with hers already staring up at him.

"hey." he whispered, his brain already waking up and becoming acutely aware of his arms still wrapped around her. Before he could overthink anything, to worry that she was uncomfortable, she buried her face back into his chest, mumbling a quiet "hi" in return.

"how are you feeling?" he asked softly. she simply mumbled into him, not having the energy to process the fears she had from the night before. before charlie could ask any more questions, he was interrupted by a sleepy bill coming into the room. he stared long and hard at the sight in front of him; his bed pushed up against charlie's, no maeve to be- oh, no, maeve was there, buried impossibly far into charlie, surely not wanting to look at her best friend as she was caught wrapped up with his younger brother. deciding it was too early to tease, he simply grabbed some clothes and went to the bathroom, deciding to process it all later.

neither bill nor charlie nor maeve commented on whatever had been seen that morning as they all sat down with the rest of the weasleys for lunch. arthur and percy had stayed late at the cup last night and were already at the ministry bright and early to deal with the death eaters and the media and all other loose ends that they weren't able to deal with the night prior.

the weasley children were properly spooked from the cup, leading to maeve staying another night, just to help raise the spirits. she spent the day helping distract the younger ones from what had gone down, playing far too many games of wizard's chess for her liking.

when night fell, maeve found herself standing next to molly, folding up some laundry to keep herself busy. molly wouldn't stop looking over at maeve with admiration, and only after she finished folding her pile did she speak up.

"y'know maeve, i always tried to push bill in the right direction if you know what i mean. would love to have you as one of us, officially of course. you know you're always welcome here." maeve of course laughed, thinking back to all the times bill ranted about his mum trying to push the two of them together. after thinking back on the past few days and the... new interactions maeve had been having with a certain weasley, she let out a casually sly comment.

"maybe one of the others will tie me down some day. i'd love to have you as my mum in law." molly squealed at that, bringing her into another one of her signature motherly bear hugs.

maeve, at the insistence of mrs. weasley, stayed at the burrow for a another week, not having to go back to work just yet, but not wanting to leave this wonderful bubble she was in at the burrow. the week was peaceful, domestic, and nothing short of wonderful. during the days, she'd run around with the family, goofing around, forgetting about the world. at night, she would curl up onto one of the beds and talk all night long with bill and charlie, with bill often falling asleep early like the old man he was, leaving charlie and maeve to chat alone most nights.

maeve went with when the kids all had to go to king's cross to get back to hogwarts, having a few more days before she would have to start traveling for the macaws versus warriors game off in new zealand. it was bittersweet watching the children get on the train at platform 9 and 3/4, a part of her wishing to go back to the simplicity of her life at hogwarts.

the next day, bill said his farewells early in the morning, not being able to delay work any longer. he hugged his family goodbye before getting to maeve, looking between her and charlie, who was talking to arthur, giving her a knowing smirk.

"so..." he started, whispering in a teasing voice as to not be heard by the others. maeve's face heated up before lightly smacking his arm.

"billius, if you so much as say one word, merlin, i'll set an ironbelly on you." she whispered back through gritted teeth. bill's smirk got impossibly wider.

"interesting that you're threatening me with dragons. i wonder why that is." he beamed before making his way out the door.

"i'll see you soon, christmas maybe? unless the wedding is sooner." he finished his teasing, maeve mumbling some choice words under her breath, waving as her best friend disapparated.

maeve followed in bill's lead only a few minutes later, grabbing her bags and saying goodbye to the remaining weasleys. molly, of course, reminded her that she was always welcome, and that she would be expected at christmas this year. maeve smiled and promised the woman, not wanting to pass up the opportunity to go to another weasley christmas after all these years.

her last goodbye was to charlie, and it seemed like everyone knew something was up, from molly hand-dusting a nearby lamp, very obviously watching the pair, percy unabashedly peaking above the book in his face to see, and arthur staring "intently" at the clock, as if there was anything interesting to see.

"it was great seeing you again after all these years. thank you for... everything." she told him, her words heavy in her throat. charlie nodded, at a loss for words like he was so many times as a schoolboy.

"i uh- of course. anything for you." he managed to get out, inwardly cringing at his words.

"when will i be- er, when will you be back?" she asked, hoping he would be back soon.

"i don't know, i usually spend holidays in romania, it gets pretty short staffed around those times." he rambled, heart already sinking at the thought that he wouldn't be seeing her for a while. he loved his job, it was his favorite thing in life, but after the tension building between the two of them for the past weeks, he wanted nothing more than to be here, with his family, and her.

"oh." she said, frowning. she quickly replaced it with a smile, trying to rid herself of all of these emotions she was feeling. "well, until we meet again." she told him, giving him a quick hug, which was not nearly enough for either of them, before flooing off to her apartment.

when will i be seeing you again. charlie was sure that's what she was going to say. it was always after the moment was over that he would have these bouts of clarity, where he would over analyze everything that had been said and realize what he should have said instead. he couldn't figure it out, he could face a hungarian horntail or norwegian ridgeback with a clear head, but the second a woman, no, the second maeve was involved, he would lose his head.

he sat there silently at dinner, picking at his food, still thinking about the past few weeks with her. everyone at the table noticed, and eventually, molly had enough.

"oh, quit your moping and go to her." she told him, already putting his food, along with another serving, in to go containers and pushing him towards the fireplace.

"but-"

"i don't want you home until you've told that poor girl how you feel. godric, we haven't all been watching you two pine over each other like puppies for weeks just for you to let her go."

and so, charlie quickly found himself in the middle of maeve's apartment, her standing there wide eyed in shirt she may have snagged from the burrow before she left. charlie had been practicing what to say, but at the sight of her there, in seemingly nothing but his old quidditch jersey, he couldn't think straight anymore.

"charlie- i-" he quickly closed the gap between them, pulling her up into a deep kiss. no words could convey all the pent up emotions he has felt since the first time they met in the gryffindor common room. she didn't waste a second reciprocating, throwing her arms around him and arching herself into him. his arms were wrapped around her so tight, he had the fleeting thought that he might be crushing her, but she held onto him with the same force, pulling him down to her level.

"that jersey looks awfully familiar" he panted when they separated, his face so close to hers that she felt his lips move against hers when he spoke.

"shut up weasley." she huffed, pulling him back down again.

when maeve and charlie showed up to christmas that year hand-in-hand, a flood of whoops and hollers were heard throughout the burrow, an approving nod coming from the eldest weasley child seeing his best friend and brother so happy ("no funny business, alright? or at least, not while i'm in the room you bloody slags").

[looneyleyle]

hogwarts corridors ~ g. weasley

synopsis: a classic strangers to something more, through the art of baring one's soul to someone they barely know. as they say, trauma bonding is the best bonding.

warnings: not proofread but that's to be expected

word count: 2733 words

ramona elwine's pov

fifth floor, just past the prefect's bathroom. i knew how to get there with my eyes closed after downing a dizziness draught. it was the best place in the castle to cry. very few were up there, just the occasional prefect, and they would never venture any further than the bathrooms. peeves usually left that part of the castle alone, never wanting to run into the tattle tale prefects. it was silent apart from the occasional birds and owls, but they never caused too much of a disruption.

what was a disruption to the peaceful crying spot, however, were two boys i liked to call tweedle dee and tweedle dumbass. george and fred weasley, respectively. for some reason, the two were nearly always up there, doing merlin knows what. i always heard their obnoxious voices and loud guffawing, though i was fortunate enough to never see them.

that is, i never saw them until one fateful night.

i was with chase sutton at the time. when i first met the boy, he was kind and charming, nothing like the rest of his slytherin comrades. he sat down next to me one morning for potions, and the rest was history.

over the months (two months and four days, to be exact), he slowly became colder and more disinterested. i didn't mind too much at first, the professors were loading us up with work and preparation for newts. i figured he was just busy.

i had known of the quiet corridor on the fifth floor for years, i discovered it as a lost little first year who was trying to find the library. for the longest time i kept away from it, only going there in the most stressful of times, in order to collect my thoughts.

and yet, after i saw chase and joan burgess sneaking into a broom cupboard with their hands interlinked, i found solace in the quiet of that little corridor on the fifth floor.

and naturally, as sobs shook through my body, a blurry ginger blob just had to appear.

"merlin, are you alright?" the blob asked.

"peachy." i glared, trying to blink away the tears to see which twin was in front of me. not that it would help, the two were identical and i knew nothing about them that could set them apart.

instead of taking the obvious hint that i did not want company, the blob sat down next to me.

"you're the girl that was dating that tosser sutton?" he asked, though he seemed to already know the answer.

"what do you mean by 'was'?"

"well, if the way his tongue was just down that hufflepuff's throat was any indicator, i'd say it's pretty safe to assume so. unless you have an open relationship, which i must say is a bit hot."

the information sent another wave of red-hot tears down my face. the ginger blob began to mutter apologies, squirming around uncomfortably.

"sorry, not the time." he mumbled. his arm then raised awkwardly, as if to put a grounding hand on my back. the icy glare i sent him was enough to have his hand back in his lap, tapping his fingers anxiously on his thigh.

"if it makes you feel any better, that hufflepuff doesn't hold a candle to you, and sutton is just a grimy little snake like the rest of them." his comment cause the smallest of smiles to spread on my face.

my tears eventually slowed, the ginger still next to me for merlin knows what reason. at one point, he started blabbering on about some prank he pulled with his twin fred, and the only thing i took out of his nonsensical rambling was that this was george sitting next to me. he eventually looked over and stopped talking, noticing the tear paths drying on my face.

"thank you for staying with me through this."

"of course. i couldn't leave a lady here all alone while in distress." he told me, standing up and dusting off his pants.

"i'm ramona by the way. ramona elwine." i said as he started backing up.

"i know." he said, the makings of a smirk twitching in his lips. and with that, the ginger was out of sight.

a week or so went by before our next encounter. i had officially dumped sutton (in the privacy of an empty classroom, much to the chagrin of my friends, who wanted a public accusation in the great hall). classes were going well, in fact, everything was splendid. things were not splendid, however, for my friend autumn taylor, who had just received the nastiest howler from her parents over an "acceptable" in transfiguration. in the middle of the packed common room, no less. her tears were growing rapidly in her eyes, and i knew where to take her to get her out of the spotlight.

when we got to the corridor, a pensive looking weasley was there, perched up by the window. at the sounds of my friend's sobs, he turned around, a smile on his face until he noticed the distress.

"ramona? is something wrong?" he asked. at the use of my first name, autumn sent me a quizzical look that i knew i would have to respond to later. for the moment, though, i focused on getting george out of here.

"everything is fine george, though we need this corridor."

"of course, of course. always a pleasure ramona, taylor." he nodded, walking away.

"first name basis with a weasley twin? spill."

i was back in the corridor the very next day, looking for autumn's hair clip. why i was there and she wasn't, i had no clue. something about detention with flitwick for merlin knows what reason.

when i rounded the corner, i couldn't even say that i was surprised to see that familiar ginger there, looking out the window, the same pensive look on his face as the day before.

"something must really be boggling you for you to be thinking this hard two days in a row." i started, getting his attention. he looked over and smiled, shaking his thoughts out of his head.

"i see you're alone this time. no crying companion." he commented, moving his body to face me and patting the seat next to him. i sat down next to him, and upon closer inspection, the worry lines were still etched into his forehead, and his smile didn't fully reach his eyes.

"you're dodging the subject at hand." i told him with a pointed glare and a playful shrug of the shoulder. he bumped into me in retaliation and looked ahead of us, surely avoiding my stare. he replied to me with some sort of bullshit, mumbling something along the lines of "'s nothing."

"don't lie to me weasley, you were here the other night too, what's going on?" his hand went over his chest at my comment.

"back to weasley? ouch ramona, i thought we were closer than that"

"maybe if you would tell me what's going on, i wouldn't resort to such formalities." i continued. i didn't know why i was prying so much, why i cared so deeply about whatever was plaguing his mind. he was just someone i've had a few chance encounters with, nothing more. at least, that's what i told myself.

george sighed, took a deep breath, opened his mouth, closed it, and repeated this on and on until he finally slumped down, looking at the floor.

"fred and i have this business going." he started, taking a final deep breath to collect his thoughts. "it's great. more than great, it's brilliant, really. it's what we're good at. making people laugh, helping them cause a bit of trouble." another sigh. "mum doesn't see it that way. she's been trying to get us to stop for ages, confiscating products, sending howlers, threatening to pull us out of hogwarts. i just- i just worry that we've pushed it too far. that someday she'll wake up and realize that freddie and i aren't worth the trouble anymore, aren't worth the owls home or the barely satisfactory notes. i mean, my brothers bill, charlie, and percy, they've all done something with themselves. billy is a curse breaker for gringotts. charlie's out working with bloody dragons in romania. even percy, stuck up percy, has landed himself a job at the ministry. but what have fred and i got? a shoddy box of puking pastels and skiving snackboxes to help chaps out of class. that's hardly admirable. i just can't help but think we're disappointing her by following our dreams." he poured. i sat there, almost stunned as he told me about his deepest insecurities. the infamous troublemaking twin, beloved by anyone with a funny bone, worried that he's a failure?

at my silence, george sighed, "sorry, that was a lot to dump on you." he ruffled up his hair and got up.

"i'll uh, see you around ramona." he said, an empty smile painted on his face. i was still flabbergasted, only able to call out his name as he walked off, him not bothering to turn around.

the seasons changed from the burnt orange of autumn to the still white of winter, and after that little moment with george, it was a while before i saw him again. well, i mean, of course i saw him, it's hard to miss his fiery red hair and the ruckus that always followed him and his twin, but i never got a chance to talk to him. he would send me little smiles as he walked by, but nothing of substance. i found myself craving time alone with him, walking up to that corridor almost every night, hoping he would be there, only for it to be empty.

with the change of seasons brought the change of headmasters at hogwarts. dumbledore was nowhere to be seen, the daily prophet accusing him of trying to overthrow the ministry, while umbridge took over. it was hell, but it provided a temporary distraction from my all-consuming curiosity about the redheaded twin.

i didn't see george in that corridor again until after holidays, after my very first detention with the devil.

my hand was burning, the script on my hand fresh and still bleeding a bit. i must not read illicit materials was etched onto the back of my left hand. the "illicit material" in question was a copy of a previous year's defense against the dark arts book. i was reading it in the library when cassius warrington, a slytherin git on the inquisitorial squad, snatched the book out of my hand and demanded that i do his potions essay for him. naturally, when i refused, i was turned in.

i made my way past the prefect's bathroom and ended up in the corridor, needing a moment to collect my thoughts. i couldn't stand umbridge and the way she was running hogwarts, but there was nothing i could do. there were rumors about some secret classes being held by students, but as soon as dumbledore vanished, so did the whispers of the meetings.

i must have sat there for hours, just staring out of the window, watching the snow fall. i was in almost a dream-like state, one that left me oblivious to the presence next to me until a hand was on my shoulder.

i flinched, turning towards the owner of the hand. my gut knew who it was, but my eyes sought the affirmation that it was, indeed, who i thought.

"you alright there ramona?" george asked, his eyes already finding my scarred hand. he took my hand in his, inspecting it.

"yeah, 'm alright." he looked up at me through furrowed eyebrows, not buying it. moving one of his hands to his robes pocket, the other still holding mine gently, he produced a vial of… some sort of liquid.

"do you trust me?" he asked. with much less hesitation than i should have, i nodded my head, watching his movements closely.

"this may sting a bit." he warned before letting a few drops fall onto my injured hand. it stung for a second, but my eyes widened as i watched the scars fade a bit. they were still there, but healed over, as if i had them for weeks already. i looked up at george in awe.

"how did you do that?" i asked, inspecting my hand. it still hurt a bit, but not nearly as much as before.

"something freddie and i cooked up a while back. couldn't stand watching any more first years going to bed in pain." he told me, his thumb ghosting over my scars. my heart swelled in my chest, words caught in my throat at this. every interaction with the ginger left me more and more enthralled by him.

"you sure you're okay love?" i could only nod, not trusting any sounds that would come out of my mouth. george left it at that, simply scooting a bit closer to me and watching the snowflakes flitter past the window.

when i wandered up to that fifth floor corridor almost a week and a half later, i would have laughed at meeting the redhead here yet again, if it weren't for the slight sobs wracking through his frame.

"george? what's going on?" i asked, quickly making my way to his side. he looked up at me with tear-filled eyes, a half smile gracing his face.

"we have got to stop running into each other like this." he laughed, though his tears kept me from returning the action. i fell into our normal routine, sitting ever-so-slightly too close to each other, looking at the other with so much unspoken care and... something a lot heavier than that. he twiddled with the sleeves of his robes for a second, glancing at me, uncertainty swirling in his eyes.

"freddie and i are leaving." he told me. the words didn't process in my brain.

"leaving? what do you mean leaving?" a sorrowful smile graced his lips.

"we're leaving hogwarts. there isn't much of a future here for us." i just stared at him, taking in this information. he took this as a sign to continue. "we had enough saved up to buy a lot in diagon alley. it has a little apartment above it, and it's perfect. winding stairs, wonky layout, it's as if it was meant for us." he paused for a moment, glancing over at me, as if trying to read my reaction. "we're opening up shop. weasley's wizard wheezes. mum... she doesn't know about it quite yet. i'm not ready to face her disappointment." i looked up at george, and even in this moment, i couldn't help but admire him. he was following his dreams, but his love for his family was evident.

"you're going to do fantastic. you both will. i've seen the impact you guys have on everyone here, i have not a doubt in my mind that the shop will be a hit. as for your mum... she'll come around. once she sees you two doing what you love, once she sees you two genuinely happy, she'll understand." george smiled over at me, a genuine, full smile, before bumping my arm with his, settling himself right up against me.

"aren't you gonna miss me?" he teased. my heart clenched at the thought of him not being here, and i'm sure my face betrayed the internal battle my emotions were going through, because his smirk dropped off of his face.

"it won't be the last time you see me, i guarantee it." he told me, his voice small, vulnerable. i turned my head to look up into his eyes, my nose nearly hitting his. the words died on my tongue as i watched his eyes lower to my lips. my heart raced in my chest, before he spoke.

"as much as i love spending time here in this corridor with you, which i do, more than life, i was wondering if you would like to go somewhere a little less depressing? hogsmeade, maybe? tomorrow?" his confidence was evident, but an underlying hint of vulnerability of doubt crept in at the end.

"i'd love that." i whispered back to him, his brown eyes no longer sad or tear-filled, but now swimming with excitement, before turning back down to my lips, my own eyes doing the same.

[looneyleyle]

the movie of us ~ t. owens

synopsis: as any good tragedy goes, the highs are high, and the lows are low. at least as a hopeless romantic, georgia can romanticize the gut-wrenching tragedy that is her rocky relationship with tornado wrangler tyler owens.

warnings: angsty, can you tell i've been hurt by a boy recently?, potentially toxic tyler depending on how you read it, me not being from the south so prolly not very accurate lingo and such, written in a two hour long spiral of sadness and romanticism (aka unedited)

word count: 1424 words

third person pov

hey darlin, looks like i'm not gonna be able to make it tonight :( big cell forming north of el reno

georgia stared down at her phone for a few minutes, disappointed but not surprised. the restaurant around her buzzed with life and excitement, but she was anything but that. the waitress had been checking in on her every fifteen or so minutes, her expression grimmer with each passing round.

on the waitress's fifth round of checking in on her tables, georgia waved her over, asking for the bill with a hollow smile. the waitress nodded, a sickly sympathetic look on her face. georgia all but rolled her eyes, not needing a stranger's pity. she paid the bill and left immediately, wanting to get away from all of the people and the waitress's prying eyes.

and funnily enough, georgia almost couldn't bring herself to feel sad. it was hard to even muster up a few tears, although not impossible. the only thing that could describe her feelings, plain and simply, was numbness. numb to the countless times she had been blown off by him, numb to the ever growing list of dates she had been stood up, numb to everything that had to do with that goddamn tornado chaser.

when she got home, she made her way towards the bay window in the living room, not wanting to go to bed just yet, unable to feel tired as her feelings sat heavy on her chest. her knees instinctively curled to her chest, imitating the pose she found herself in all too often since crossing paths with the handsome self-proclaimed tornado wrangler tyler no-good owens a year and a half ago. she turned on the stereo and set it to a low volume, not wanting to wake up her parents. rain pelted against the window in sporadic thunks, but the sounds were drowned out by a familiar song on the radio. her chest squeezed as she listened, humming along while watching the storm brew outside, a reflection of the anguish brewing inside of her.

the moment played out in her head like a movie, a bluish tint over the film to aid in setting the dreary mood, the camera of her mind focusing in on the few tears that managed to escape her eyes, her longing look out the window panning out and off into the world, transitioning into whatever tyler was doing. was he asleep? was he out and about with his crew? was he at some bar, not a thought of her in his head? the scene continued to change in her mind, each as unsettling as the previous thought, until she drifted into a restless sleep.

after a couple of days, georgia ignored tyler's texts, deciding that he had run out of second chances. she was done with him for good.

as she came home from grocery shopping one clear, sunny day, tyler was there, looking out at the garden her mother tended to, a few flowers of his own in his hands.

georgia tried to resist him, she really did. she wanted nothing more than to deliver a swift punch to his annoyingly perfect face.

"hey darlin, i missed you." he said, opening his arms wide. she fought every nerve, muscle, and whim in her body from running up and jumping into his strong arms. she had a point to prove to him.

but his eyes didn't hold even a hint of malice or manipulation in them. tyler was a simple guy, georgia could easily chalk up his flakiness and absence to his passion for his job. it was as if he didn't even realize that he had done something wrong, and how could she be mad at him for something he didn't even mean to do? it was as if they haven't been apart for the past two months, date upon date cancelled, with georgia spending her nights in bed, soundless sobs escaping her as she wondered what she could do to make it work, to make them work.

no, in that moment, it was as if it were only yesterday that he was there, in her house, having dinner with her parents, before sneaking out to go dance with her at the town bar into the late late hours of the night.

and so, that night, long after the plates have been washed, her parents already tucked away in bed, tyler whisked her away in his truck, heading towards an open field away from town, the sky clear as ever.

and in that moment, the wind whipping throughout his big red truck on that warm oklahoma night, georgia felt like she was floating through the air. because she was here, with tyler, the same gleeful look gracing both of their faces.

the movie pieced itself back together in her mind, an upbeat love song playing in the back as their laughs surpassed the roar of his truck. all previous transgressions against her on his behalf were forgotten in this moment of pure, unfiltered glee. a moment in which the actors went off script, genuinely happy and feeding on each others' energy.

he stopped the truck, jogging out of it and opening her door for her, leading her into his truck bed. he grabbed a few blankets from the backseat, putting them down to make it a bit more comfortable for them. he then hopped up next to her, wrapping the blanket and himself around her as they looked up at the clear night sky, talking about whatever popped up into their hyperactive minds. it was as if they were each other's own personal drug, dopey smiles never leaving their faces, hearts thumping rapidly together as one.

and the next day, she woke up at some ungodly hour to tyler hopping out of bed, putting on his clothes and gathering up his belongings.

"you're not leaving again, are you?" she asked, not able to mask the pain in her tone. he looked over at her and gave her what she assumed he thought was a sympathetic smile, reassuring her that he would be back by sundown, that boone had found the makings of a perfect storm about an hour west of them.

georgia pulled the covers closer to her bare body, chilled not by the air, but by the emptiness surrounding her as tyler pressed a chaste kiss to her head, already one foot out of the door.

as it approached dinner time, she made one of tyler's favorites, pouring out a glass of iced tea for everyone and setting the table.

the six o'clock hour passed, and she told her parents to go ahead and eat, not wanting them to get hungry.

the seven o'clock hour passed, and she covered up her and tyler's food, not wanting it to get cold.

the eight o'clock hour passed, and with it, the sun fell below the horizon. the ice in her iced tea was long melted, and tyler was, as always, nowhere to be seen.

the nine o'clock hour passed, and georgia found that she was no longer hungry. it was almost as if she could see the hours pass by in a movie montage, everything moving around her, but her staying perfectly still in her chair, waiting in sorrowful desperation for her absent love interest.

the ten o'clock hour passed, and she put everything away in the fridge and did the dishes, getting ready for bed.

only when the clock on her bedside reached 11:18 did tyler text her.

got caught up in the storm, it was perfect! twin ef3's, can you believe it?? the crew had to stop at a motel in weatherford, i'll head back tomorrow morning, sleep well darlin

and just like a fool, she believed him, falling asleep while making plans for what her and tyler would do the coming day.

and she waited and waited and waited, realization seeping in around mid afternoon that tyler wasn't coming. he never was.

and for once, she took a page out of tyler's book. she packed up her bags and followed the wind wherever it took her, not looking back once.

so after a week or so of no responses from georgia, tyler returned to georgia's house, only to find her truck gone and her mother in the doorway, a disapproving shake of her head as she headed back inside.

and with that, the movie of tyler and georgia ended, the final frame focused on tyler's fallen face, finally realizing, after all this time, that he fucked up irreparably.

[looneyleyle]

percy jackson masterlist

journal scraps ~ l. castellan written 07.18.24

[looneyleyle]

journal scraps ~ l. castellan

synopsis: when luke sneaks back into camp to gather some of his leftover belongings and supplies, he finds something that makes him realize that he may have made the wrong decision.

warnings: a bit angsty

word count: 2051 words

note: no name used, she/her pronouns

third person pov

camp half blood couldn't be described as anything other than desolate. as the seasons changed from the warm, breezy summer to the brittle, nippy autumn, campers would part to go back into the mortal world, outside of the safety of camp's magical borders. this made it the perfect time for luke castellan to sneak back into camp for some supplies.

so, on this early autumnal day, luke found himself docked on the shore a ways away from camp half blood, lurking through the woods in order to ensure that no one would see him.

the woods held a lot of memories for luke. victory cries from his numerous capture the flag wins, hidden parties supplied with alcohol that the stoll brothers snatched from a nearby gas station, giggles from the wood nymphs while he walked through the forest. it was as if he could hear the memories rustling through the leaves. he could almost see them playing out in front of him, all the bright smiles looking up at him.

luke, noticing his train of thought, shook his head, as if shaking the thoughts right out of it. he wasn't one for nostalgia, not anymore. not since he left camp last year. he was the new and improved luke, captain of princess andromeda, right hand man to kronos, leader of an army. he had no time to dwell upon this shoddy place, worshipping crooks, bigots, and gluttons. this place was nothing but blasphemous, not worth his time and thoughts.

that is, until he came across a peculiar pile of belongings next to a dying fire. at first, it didn't look like much, just a couple of shirts, pictures, notes, trinkets, and a few flowers. however, upon further inspection, he recognized the belongings, starting with a navy blue hoodie... his navy blue hoodie, all the way down to a silly little clay strawberry he had made for… her.

a daughter of demeter, ever the fair and kindhearted. she came to camp a couple of months before luke's quest. the two weren't friends per say, at least not at first. amicable would be the best word to describe their dynamic. she found him attractive, yes, but underneath those perfect curls and annoyingly gorgeous features, she saw an undying sense of arrogance and self-importance. it was earned, most definitely, with him being the big brother to the campers, as well as being one of the best swordsmen there, but his faux humility didn't fool her. he loved the compliments, the stares, the goo-goo eyes from the girls, he ate it up. to him, on the other hand, she was just another quiet daughter of demeter, not remarkable in anyway. no doubt pretty, but nothing special in his mind.

it wasn't until after his quest that the two grew close. when she had heard that luke was back from his quest, she expected him to be waltzing around camp, showing off the golden apple and the slain head of the dragon ladon, oozing confidence from yet another castellan triumph. however, that was not the luke she saw when she came into the infirmary with some herbs for the apollo kids. instead, he was there, looking down at his hands, a large, jarring scar marring his face, shoulders hunched as if to make himself as small as possible. one of the apollo kids said not to bother him, that he hadn't succeeded in his quest. that news, coupled with his hunched over frame, shattered her previous notions on the boy. here, in this infirmary bed, he was just another person, just as vulnerable as the rest of the campers here.

luke spent a couple weeks in the infirmary, even after everything was healed up. he didn't have the mental strength to go out there, to tell everyone that he failed, to have to recount the memory of him losing to ladon, to watch their disgusted and pitiful glances every time they looked at his messed up face. ambrosia and nectar could heal all physical wounds, but not those deep within one's mind and soul.

"don't bother him, he doesn't want to see-" he had heard his healer whisper harshly to someone. when luke looked up, he saw her, holding a basket of strawberries. wordlessly, she took out a handkerchief, placed a handful of berries on it, and put it on the table next to luke’s bed. she glanced at him, gave him a small smile, and left, leaving the boy alone with his thoughts and her berries.

this continued for a couple of days, her wordlessly bringing him berries, him mumbling quiet words of thanks in return. something about the action helped him gain himself back. there was no pity in her gaze, not a trace of disgust in her look, just a friendly gesture from one camper to another.

and from that moment on, luke castellan was wrapped around her finger, and she didn’t even have a clue.

luke pulled himself out of his memories again. what was going on with him? he had never felt this many… emotions when returning to camp.

he wrote off these feelings as a moment of weakness, a need for comfort and solace and love when he was at his worst.

but he was different back then. weaker, more emotional, compliant with the world of the gods. not anymore. he stood up from the crouched position he didn’t remember getting into, letting go of the clay strawberry he had made her, and prepared to continue his journey to camp.

but, as he moved to take a step, something in him refused to budge. a nagging feeling in him urged him to look through the rest of the belongings. he sighed, going back in front of the little pile of memorabilia.

upon closer inspection, it was more of a grave than anything. a polaroid of him was nailed to a piece of scrap wood in the ground, high above the items. luke’s favorite flowers were resting right next to the items, and from the lack of noticeable wilting or decay, luke assumed they were fresh. a few more trinkets and shirts he had lent her throughout their time at camp were scattered around.

but then, luke looked over at the dying fire next to the shrine. despite the lack of embers, he could still feel a light heat emitting from the stack. in it, besides the logs, were little pieces of crumpled up paper, some burned beyond recognition, but others, just on the outskirts of the fire, are still salvageable, with scribbled words still discernible on the slightly charred paper. luke grabbed one near him, his original purpose for this visit completely blown out of his mind. his heart thudded in his chest as he scanned the paper, something that hadn’t happened, coincidentally, since he last saw the writer of these papers.

each paper had his name on it, along with a date scrawled at the top. he grabbed as many as possible, sorting them by the dates scribbled at the top. the first note was from about a week after he left camp.

luke,

i don’t want to believe it. that you’re gone. that you left without a trace, that you tried to hurt percy.

the worst part is, i didn’t even know about it at first. as soon as i woke up, chiron was at my door, asking me to come with him to the big house. there, he and mr. d asked me for any information i knew about you. if you had said anything about the gods, anything about having bad dreams, anything about wanting to leave camp. i didn’t understand what was going on, why they were asking so many questions. at the end, after it was clear i had no idea as to what was going on, chiron told me that you betrayed camp. not just left, betrayed. i couldn’t believe it, and i didn’t, until i saw the asterisk shaped scar on percy.

it’s not that you betrayed camp that hurts me, it’s that you left without saying anything. not a goodbye, not a glance my way, not even a note.

luke’s heart clenched, he even thought about leaving something for her, but he didn’t want to implicate her in this mess.

he rifled through the next few letters.

luke,

not a day goes by that i don't think about you. terribly cheesy, i know, but it's true. i see you everywhere here. in the pavilion, in the woods, in the capture the flag games. i wake up and i hope and pray it was all just one big dream, one big nightmare. i wish i had a chance to say goodbye, to tell you everything, and above all, to tell you how i felt. would it have been enough to make you stay? would you have tried to convince me to go with you? the biggest question of all, the one that haunts me each and every day is, would i have gone with?

luke,

it's probably best that you left. i wouldn't have been happy away from camp. i was meant to stay here, to help the campers. this place is my home.

i know you don't like the gods, but i don't think this is the way to bring about change. you're messing with forces bigger than yourself that are using you just as much as the gods use us.

there were a few more letters, each a knife into luke's heart.

and then, the final letter. it was undated, but the paper had little thin splotches on it, as if fresh tears had just dried.

i still love you, please come back

luke sat there for a while, unable to move. he didn't know what was going on, he had been repressing all feelings of… well, just about anything for the past year, and he couldn't cope with whatever those letters were making him feel. the memories that popped up in his mind, of all the times the two were alone, walking around camp, picking strawberries, sneaking off into town to buy snacks for movie nights, all the domestic things he couldn't do anymore. it was ripping apart this facade he had created. he felt water hit his face. he looked up, but the leaves were dry. instead, he felt his face, feeling the fresh tear tracks.

luke sighed. he got up, shaking his head, wiping away the silly tears. that wasn't his life anymore. she wasn't his life anymore. it wouldn't do him any good to dwell on it.

so, he continued on with his mission, sneaking effortlessly into the hermes cabin and armory. the only credit he'd ever give his dad was the ability he gave him to sneak around.

however, on his way out, he passed by a patch of her favorite flowers. he couldn't help it. like a moth to a flame, he was pulled to them. to satisfy the part of him that was crying, screaming at his past self for the decisions he made, he grabbed a few, went back to his 'grave', and placed them next to his flowers. ever the dramatic, he unfurled the note with her tear drops staining it, a few fresh tear drops adorning the letter, and placed it down on top of the flowers. he then headed back to the boat and sailed away, reminding himself that he was doing this for the greater good, so that demigods would no longer be neglected by their power drunk parents, used only when convenient for them.

when she took her routine morning walk the next morning, she could swear she could smell his signature cologne lingering in the air. she knew it couldn't be, it was impossible, he was gone.

but something in her just couldn't stop thinking about it. so, she went back to the little 'grave'. she knew it was stupid, everything would be as it was the night before, but she had to check.

and when she got close enough to the grave, she saw it. alongside the flowers she had put there for luke were her favorite flowers, as well as the note she had crumpled up the day before, straightened out. her knees buckled underneath her, making her fall to the ground, sobbing.

luke.

[looneyleyle]

soccer masterlist

mi media naranja ~ p. gavi written 06.08.24

[looneyleyle]

mi media naranja ~ p. gavi

synopsis: the private but not secret relationship of a guy and a girl <3

warnings: my spanish 😭 im not quite fluent so beware of errors!

notes: first off, most of the pictures i used are not my own! credits to their owners. second, the accounts pedroplays and pabs.gavs are their private instas, just wanted to clear up any potential confusion

insta au!

user.yn

♡ 💬 ➢ les gusta a hey.its.bff, sister.name, pabs.gavs y otros

user.yn recientemente ☼ (recently)

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hey.its.bff gorgeous gorgeous girl ↳ user.yn @/hey.its.bff you should visit sometime

sister.name miss you lots ↳ user.yn @/sister.name i miss you more

pedroplays alguien no puede callarse pq estás aquí (someone can’t shut up about you being here) ↳ user.yn @/pedroplays hmmm quien podría ser... (hmmmm who could it be…) ↳ pabs.gavs @/user.yn obviamente es lamine (obviously it’s lamine)

user.yn

♡ 💬 ➢ les gusta a hey.its.bff, pabs.gavs, pedroplays y otros

user.yn alguien me sugirió que viniera a un partido, supongo que estuvo bueno ◡̈ (someone suggested that i come to a game, i guess it was fine)

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hey.its.bff best weekend w the best girl <3 ↳ user.yn @/hey.its.bff so glad you came, ily

pabs.gavs sólo bueno? :( (just fine?) ↳ user.yn @/pabs.gavs marca un gol la próxima vez y veremos si mi opinión cambia (score a goal next time and we’ll see if my opinion changes)

culersporpablito

♡ 💬 ➢ les gusta a user915 y otros

culersporpablito gavi y una mujer besándose en la calle cerca de las ramblas, foto por un culer (gavi and a woman kissing in the street near las ramblas, photo by a culer)

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user823 ¿¿él tiene novia?? ¿quién es? (he has a girlfriend?? who is it?) ↳ user756 no sabemos, pero ellos han estado juntos desde sus días en la masia (we don’t know, but they’ve been together since his days in la masia)

user089 que afortunada, cómo convertirse en ella 😭 (how lucky, how to become her 😭)

ferrantorres

♡ 💬 ➢ les gusta a pablogavi, user.yn, pedri y otros

ferrantorres 🦈⚽️

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pedri goleadorrr (goal scorer)

frenkiedejong bon día 💙❤️ (good day)

marcguiu9 😍😍

user.yn que impresionante bebe (impressive babe)

pabs.gavs

jaja eres tan graciosa cariño 😐 (haha you're so funny darling)

deja de coquetear con mi compañero. (stop flirting with my teammate.)

y si no? qué pasaría?(and if not? what would happen?)

para. (stop.)

eres lindo cuando estás celoso (you're cute when you're jealous)

cállate mujer (shut up woman)

pablogavi

♡ 💬 ➢ les gusta a pedri, user.yn, fcbarcelona y otros

pablogavi ¡otra gran victoria por tres puntos! força barça! (another great victory for three points!)

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pedri vamos hermanito 🔥 (let's go bro)

_ferminlopez sigue hermano 👏 (keep it up bro)

user.yn mi favorito 🫶 (my favorite) gustado por pabs.gavs

pabs.gavs

♡ 💬 ➢ les gusta a pedroplays, user.yn, hectorelhermoso y otros

pabs.gavs contigo para siempre amor (with you forever love)

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user.yn ayeee quién es la chica? es muy guapa 🤩 (who's that girl? she's gorgeous)

user.yn mi media naranja 🍊🫶 (my soulmate)

pedroplays que asco 🤢 (how gross) ↳ user.yn @/pedroplays pablito todavía te quiere, no te pongas tan celoso (pablo still loves you, don't be too jealous)

[looneyleyle]

hockey masterlist

the self-destructive habits of a hopeless romantic ~ j. hughes written 04.25.24

[looneyleyle]

the self-destructive habits of a hopeless romantic ~ j. hughes

synopsis: monetizing one's self-sabotaging habits, surprisingly, has its downfalls. one of them being leaving that one attractive hockey player that is an absolute gentleman who loves you with his whole entire heart.

warnings: self-sabotage, self-deprecation, angsty (but with happy ending)

word count: 3425 words

note: once again unedited but i wanted to get this one out there

???'s pov

time and time again, the world has seen the self destructive habits of humans. well, that makes it seem serious. the world has seen the countless missed opportunities due to a fear of another's reaction. the world has seen the blunders due to saving face. the world has seen the heartbreaks due to miscommunication. time and time again, the world has seen how people sabotage their own lives for the dumbest reasons.

esther graham was no different.

in fact, she capitalized on her ability to put herself into the worst emotional distress possible. every heartbreak produced a great work of literature that would nearly sell out in bookstores all over the northeast. she wasn't a new york times best seller by any means, but she was a small town writer from mont vernon, new hampshire. she made a name for herself during her time at hamilton college in their creative writing program. in her junior year of college, she published her first book, woes of a teenage failure, a novel following what could have been for a young college drop out named sophia. the book was a hit amongst her peers and professors, and by word of mouth, ended up selling 200 copies. the book, as ms. graham remarked, was her own "what-if" story, as she almost dropped out of college the beginning of her sophomore year.

and how do i know so much about ms. graham?

well, because i am ms. esther graham.

and i'm here to tell you all about the biggest blunder of my life.

after my first book, i hit major writing block. i would stare at my computer screen for hours just to delete the only three words that i could come up with. i would sit in coffee shops, pen in hand, ready for inspiration to strike, and yet, nothing. i was nearing the end of my college career, riding on the coattails of my first and only book's success, and couldn't figure out how to continue. my professors taught me plenty of ways to try and combat writer's block, but nothing worked.

until i met ryan. a devilishly handsome man all the way from the cheese state of wisconsin, who was meeting up with some college friends for the annual boston beanpot. we had our meet cute at a nearby pizza joint, in which i sat down and started chatting with him, thinking he was a publisher that i was supposed to meet with. after realizing my blunder when he had absolutely no idea what an anthology was, he asked if i wanted to join him and his friends at the beanpot, as one of their friends had cancelled, leaving them with an extra ticket.

ryan and i dated for four months. we would take turns traveling between my college in new york and his in wisconsin until eventually it became too much, or should i say, too little for him, and he broke it off. in my rage and complete depression from the breakup, i wrote my next hit, until the sun sets, a 142-page anthology of gut-wrenching poems, which was eventually integrated into hamilton college's curriculum for their young adult modern literature class. i was quite proud of that.

after that, i found myself yet again staring at blanks screens and empty notepads.

that is, until chloe. a beautiful new york native whom i had actually met while dating ryan. she was a hostess at a restaurant ryan and i would always go to. she was pursuing her masters in psychology, which gave me fascinating insights and tactics to use in my books. we were never officially together, but we had something for almost three months before she was whisked off by some californian named ella. i never saw her again, which prompted my next book, the ninth floor, a murder mystery following a closeted lesbian couple in 1940's hollywood (it was one of the girlfriends the whole time).

at this point, when i hit a creative block for the third time, i realized that i needed my heart or brain to be in absolute shambles in order to produce my best work. i needed to be at some sort of life crisis, and the easiest way to do so was to love another and let that love be ripped out of your life.

so, i began dating for the sake of my career. it was like i sought out the most manipulative, scummy people in the world who were able to get away with it just because they were attractive. over the course of a year, my first year out of college, i dated a total of three men and one woman, and poured my emotions out into a collection of short stories titled lavender.

and that was when i met jack.

i was in new jersey for a book signing at this little bookstore which, as it turns out, was right by the prudential center. as i left the bookstore, i was nearly run over by an overly excited man-child with a giant bag slung upon his shoulder.

"luke, watch out, you nearly killed that woman!" a voice yelled from where the man came from.

"i'm so sorry about that miss, my brother can get a bit overexcited sometimes." looking at the person talking to me, i found a young, very attractive brunet with the most adorable smile. i straightened myself up instinctively, wanting to appear presentable.

"no worries. if you don't mind me asking, what got him so riled up that he almost trampled me?" the man let out a laugh at my statement.

"of course, we owe you at least that much for your near-death experience. he just got nominated for the calder trophy." he explained, as if those words meant anything to me. seeing my blank stare, he clarified. "a rookie of the year award. we play for the new jersey devils." the boy in question came up and joined us, grinning ear to ear.

"ahhh, i see. i'm not a big hockey watcher, which i know is absolute blasphemy for someone who grew up in new hampshire." his jaw nearly dropped.

"you're from up here and don't like hockey? we have to change that." he exclaimed. in my peripheral vision, i could see his brother trying to hide his laughter at his brother's forwardness.

"ill have to come and watch a game sometime." i mused.

"we have a game coming up next week against the blue jackets. i could maybe snatch you a seat in exchange for your number." he proposed. his brother snorted at that, having to turn around to hide his obvious laughter. the man paid his brother no mind, just looking at me with a big smile on his face.

"trying to bribe me mister?"

"is it working?" i put my hand out and he immediately put his phone in my hand, adding my information into his contacts.

"esther? that's nice, you look like a esther." i quirked an eyebrow at him, but continued on anyways.

"and you? what should i call you?"

"call me yours. or jack, either works." the brother was doubled over on the floor at this point, jack finally acknowledging him by kicking him slightly, making him fall over.

"anyways, ms. esther, we have to get going, but ill see you next week at our game." he put out his hand for me to shake.

"you've got yourself a deal jack."

and just like that, jack and i started talking. his eagerness was cute, he texted me no more than ten minutes after meeting me. we talked every day, mainly on calls, asking each other questions and such to get to know each other.

and sure enough, the next week, i found myself back in new jersey watching the brothers play. i assumed jack was going to be some sort of benchwarmer or something, but that didn't seem to be the case. despite my lack of hockey knowledge, i could tell the boy was good, and he had quite a fan base if the amount of women wearing his jersey meant anything. and i felt severely out of place, simply wearing a grey sweater and jeans, unlike everyone else in the stands, decked out in red.

after that, i found myself going to a couple more hockey games, for no particular reason. jack would try to explain the game over video calls and our occasional coffee meet ups, but i couldn't for the life of me wrap my head around it. why do they all get off the ice every five seconds? and what the hell is offsides?? jack always laughed at my confusion, telling me that i'd get it one day.

we spent a couple months thriving off of video chats and once-in-a-blue-moon hangouts, until i got a job as an editor for a local paper. i was good at editing, always having good grammar and an eye for design, but it wasn't my dream. despite it not being my dream, i needed a stable income, and fast. my mind was devoid of ideas, and it didn't seem like that would change any time soon.

plus, it helped that this stable income happened to be in new york city, putting me a lot closer to a certain someone. and, with me being closer, that certain someone would pop on by a lot more than before. and eventually, chinese takeout dinners turned into staying the night, which turned into coming up for the weekend, which turned into the line of friendship being crossed into something more.

and then, i made the dumbest mistake of my life.

i let him go.

now, i know what you must be thinking. he must have done something wrong, he must have cheated or neglected me or done something so completely unforgivable that i would just throw away the most amazing thing in my life. and i wish i was here to tell you that was the truth.

but it wasn't.

jack was nothing but a gentleman, and i was just a broken girl doing the only thing i knew how to do: leave. i like to tell myself that it was for my career, that i needed to write another book, that i wasn't fulfilled in my job and that i was putting myself first by doing this, but i was perfectly content with my life. i was an editor for a major publishing company, i started writing little happy poems about my mundane life with jack, and wanted nothing more. i had no reason to run away. i just woke up in his bed one day and realized that i wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, and i couldn't accept that. i had gotten so used to leaving people that i assumed that they would leave me if i hadn't done so first, and i couldn't lose the one real thing i ever had.

so naturally, my self-destructive, self-sabotaging self let him go, the exact opposite of what i wanted.

and when i got back to my apartment after writing jack a confusing and half-assed letter, i cried. i cried and cried and cried, and i always wrote about characters crying until they couldn't anymore, but that day, i couldn't find the end to my tears. for hours tears would either slowly leak or violently pour from my eyes, and they never did end, not even when i passed out on my couch from exhaustion.

and after a week, i was expecting to pick myself up and start writing my next best seller, coping with my writing. but i sat there, and my florescent computer screen simply sat there, staring back at me. and when i left my apartment for a change of scenery, the blank pages of my notebook mocked me. i flipped through past works, all of them being little poems about jack, and the waterworks continued, right in the middle of a starbucks.

after a week and four days, i couldn't take it. i had to make things right, i had to at least see him. it always worked in the books, right? someone makes a huge mistake, they break up, they see each other again and realize they're both miserable without each other and then get back together and live happily ever after.

when i knocked on the door to jack's apartment, i was met with an unimpressed looking luke. at the sight of him, the waterworks started up again.

"you're an idiot, you know that?" i nodded furiously at this, sobs wrecking through my body. i couldn't see through the tears in my eyes, but i could tell the luke hadn't moved a muscle.

"he deserved better and you know that." i felt my soul being crushed. "i mean, a letter? seriously esther? and a half-assed one at that. i know damn well you don't have a degree in creative writing for that bullshit."

i opened my mouth to explain, but nothing came up. what would i say, that i was a broken person? cop out. that i did it to everyone? not much better. that i got scared? fucking coward.

"if you think that you deserve to see my brother, then i'll let you in." he told me, moving out of the way, door open wide. i just stood there, staring at him through teary eyes. my brain cheered, finally able to go in, but my feet wouldn't move.

my heart still clenched and ached, and with every thought of moving forward, into that apartment, it hurt more. jack didn't deserve this. after all the nights of him reading my poems about him and praising my work, after all the sweet things he'd say when i was down, after all the little acts of kindness he showed me, after all the love he poured into us, he didn't deserve to be broken by me. hurt people hurt people, the scholars had that right. he didn't deserve to be broken.

and so, i got ready to leave, again.

"i'm sorry." was all i said, turning around with heavy legs and a heavy heart. i heard luke let out a sigh as i walked away, closing the door behind him.

a couple of days went by and i found myself back at their apartment. i knew they wouldn't be there, they had an away game in anaheim the night before, and i knew from my time with jack that they would always spend the night in the city before coming back, especially after a win, a 5-0 win no less.

i stood there in front of their door, a small box in my hands, contemplating. jack didn't deserve this, but a selfish part of me needed this. i placed the box gingerly outside of their door and left the building. if the box was taken by some nosy neighbor, or thrown in the trash by some janitor, then it would be fate. it would be a sign to move on. but, there was a chance that jack and luke would come back to their apartment, and would pick up the box, and jack would recognize my handwriting. and, instead of throwing the box in the trash like any normal self-respecting person receiving a box from their shitty ex, he would take it to his room, and open it up to see my notebook, with a bookmark starting at the pages when i first started seeing him. and he would read the poems and maybe, just maybe, he'd see the note written on the bookmark to meet me at the park near his apartment, and maybe, just maybe, he'd be willing to hear me out.

i went to that park every single day for exactly one month and six days, always arriving by 1 pm, never late. and i would stay there until 4 pm, waiting.

on the 37th day, i was sitting there, editing, funnily enough, a sports column about the recent devils and islanders game. i watched it, absolutely terrible game it was, the islanders beating the devils for the first time in the season. our sports journalist, while passionate and very knowledgeable about seemingly every sport out there, had a knack for writing long, run-on sentences that reflected his rambling nature. as i sat there on the same park bench i had been sitting on for the previous 36 days, a figure stopped in front of me. i finished up the sentence i was working on before looking up.

and while i hate cliches, the wind was absolutely knocked out of my lungs.

"h-hey jack." i started, immediately putting away my work, giving him my full attention.

"hey esther." a shiver ran down my spine from him just saying my name. it had been so long, and while it lost its loving tone, i welcomed it with open arms. jack moved, taking the spot next to me, looking out at the trees in front of us. when it became apparent he wasn't going to say anything, i started the conversation.

"i see you read the notebook."

"i finished it three weeks ago." he replied, voice lacking its usual emotion. tears welled up in my eyes. three weeks.

"oh."

"i came here immediately after finishing it." i felt my eyes bulge out of their sockets at that. he continued, "i went to that bench over there and watched as you fidgeted in your spot, looking frantically at everyone who passed by. i watched the next day as you sat in the pouring rain with no umbrella. i sat over on that bench every day that i was here since reading your notebook."

a silence fell upon us, my mind reeling, trying to figure out what he was trying to say, from his emotionless face to the fact that he came.

"do you know how much it hurt? waking up to empty sheets and some half-assed note with the lamest excuses on earth?" i hadn't really paid mind to the tears rolling down my cheeks until he brought that up, sending me back to that morning, quickly scribbling out some gibberish before leaving the best part of my life behind.

"i was going to wait another month, y'know. to see if you were still gonna come here every day."

"so why didn't you?" i asked, sniffling intensely, trying to calm down my sobs.

"luke said i was absolutely miserable without you. coach told me i wasn't focused. my teammates pointed out that i barely left my apartment. the icing on the cake was when my mom started asking if you would be coming over to the lakehouse this summer. i realized, as pathetic as it seems, that i can't live without you."

my attempts at stopping my crying were thrown out the window at that. i could probably fill the hudson river with the amount of tears i had shed over the past two months.

"how can i make it up to you. please, please let me make it up to you." i begged, fully facing him, my hands angrily playing with the sleeves of my shirt because if i didn't, i would be reaching out to the man in front of me.

"never pull that shit again." he bargained, looking me dead in the eyes for the first time in months. and in that moment, i saw just how bad he was doing. sunken eyes with heavy bags, his skin dull, hair slightly unkempt under his hat.

"never again." i promised, putting out my pinky to him, something he would always do when he promised me to not get hurt in games. he let out a hoarse laugh, looking away from me, and when he looked back, i saw the tears brewing in his eyes. he took my pinky in his and held it there, between us.

"now, i'm not gonna just take you right back after all that. that was really shitty and i need some time to get over that. but, as i've found out, i can't really function without you. so maybe you could start with coming to my games again, and i could take you out for coffee next week."

"sounds perfect."

i accepted my life as an editor for the local newspaper, accepted that i probably wouldn't write another page-turning sell-out book, accepted that i was completely content with whatever happened to me, so long as jack was there with me.

and with that, my self-destructive, soul-crushing, heart-breaking tendencies reached their end.

[looneyleyle]

bitchy kie ~ j. maybank

synopsis: midsummer's and john b's hospital visit seem to push kie to snap, at her best friend in the world nonetheless. snap crackle pop!

warnings: some kie hate

words: 1882 words

note: from my wattpad account, written april 18 2022

paisley pov

kiara and i rarely ever fought. sure, we'd have petty quarrels every now and again, but never any full blown fight. this, however, was much different than any other time, and i didn't have the slightest clue as to what i did wrong.

kiara had invited me to midsummer's, despite me being a pogue. her parents had essentially taken me in when i started working at the wreck two years ago. they had even lent me a beautiful dress for the occasion. it was short, wavy at the skirt, and light orange, paired with a beautiful moon necklace. mrs. carrera even made me a flower crown, which i couldn't thank her enough for.

everything leading up to midsummer's went just fine. kie and i got ready, throwing compliments at each other left and right. we blasted music throughout the room, dancing playfully like the two teenage girls we are. when we got to midsummer's, we made snarky comments about the kooks, and we had to hold each other to contain our laughter when rose cameron waltzed in with that absolute monstrosity perched upon her head. when pope arrived, the air was still light, the three of us joking around, trying to keep our minds off of the incident with jj earlier on.

i think it all went downhill when jj was being escorted off of the premises by one of the guards. as kie was going to speak up for him, i yelled out about how he was my date, and that they had no right to throw him out. kie had her parents watching, and us pogues were already on thin ice with them. it was best for them to be mad at me for bringing jj than for them to be mad at kie for bringing him and 'embarrassing the family name' or some other bullshit kook idea they have.

when the words escaped my lips, the guard pushed jj my way. i caught him and he put an arm around my waist, making my lie more believable. he then twirled me away from the scene to the music, downed some man's drink, and yelled for a mandatory pogue meeting at rixon's. holding my hand, he didn't wait for the others to follow behind us.

we all whooped and hollered, having a great time, before settling down for this mandatory meeting. john b brought up his treasure hunt again, leading me to look at jj skeptically. he squeezed my hand, motioning for me to keep listening.

i didn't look at kiara at all during the first half of the meeting, but when the name 'sarah cameron' was slipped, she went apeshit.

"you let a kook in on our secret?!" she screamed. they all went back and forth for a bit, kiara not calming down in the slightest.

when john b and kiara were done arguing, everything went silent.

"so…" jj trailed off, trying to find something, anything, to say. kiara raised her eyebrows at him, and then did the same to me. i looked at her questioningly, not understanding why she all of a sudden had beef with me. jj shifted a bit, making me aware of the arm that had been around my shoulders throughout the argument. i didn't pull away, however, and despite kiara's piercing glare boring into my soul, i found myself becoming drowsy. my eyes drooped as my head fell onto jj's shoulder.

when i woke up, i was in roughly the same position, but in the back of the van instead of around the fire pit. john b was nowhere to be seen, pope and jj were immersed in conversation, and kiara sat alone, staring out the window and towards hawks nest. i stayed in jj's arms, still teetering on the line between sleep and consciousness.

if possible, kiara's mood was soured even more by sarah cameron leaning over john b's limp body, crying, kissing his lips as if it were a disney movie. that mood continued as sarah insisted on staying by him at all times, waiting for him to wake up.

"i could honestly care less that john b decided to befriend that snake, but she acts as if she's the only one there for him! hello, he has four perfectly good friends right here who care about him way more than she could ever even fathom!" kiara ranted, the four of us sitting around the château. due to all the injuries agatha caused, there was a limit of two visitors per person in the hospital, and some mystery man and sarah cameron filled up those two spots before the rest of us could have a say.

"at least we know that he's in stable condition. he won't drop dead, it's just a matter of time before he wakes up." i suggested, trying to calm her down. she chuckled bitterly. a burst of anger went through my body, what did i do?

"if you have something to say, by all means, get it off your chest. you've been acting like a bitch ever since we left midsummer's." i told her, arms crossed in front of me. a quiet "ooooooh" came from jj, but i was focused on kie.

"it's easy for you to be all easy-going right now, isn't it? it's only john b in the hospital. but if your boy toy were in there, you'd be raising hell over the fact that we can't go and visit."

"my 'boy toy'? and who exactly is that?" i asked, irked and a bit genuinely confused as to who she's referring to.

"isn't it obvious? you two are practically joint at the hip! all you ever do is eye-fuck each other!" kie yelled. jj shifted against me, nearly glaring at kiara.

"drop it kie." he said lowly. she just laughed sarcastically at that, deflating. i didn't feel like talking to her anymore, so i dropped it and got up to leave.

"paisley? where're you going?" jj asked, also getting up.

"i'm going home. goodnight." i told him, already walking away. i heard him follow me, but i didn't protest.

surprisingly, jj didn't say anything for the whole walk. he stayed in stride with me, occasionally whistling a little tune. when we got to the little house i shared with my mom and siblings, he spoke up.

"you okay? i've never seen you and kie fight like that." a sigh escaped my lips.

"i don't know why she's being so pissy right now. we were fine up until midsummer's! then she's mad at me for trying to calm her down? like what the fuck was that all about?" i ranted. jj nodded, not saying anything.

"and then the whole 'boy toy' comment? like what was that?" at that, jj stayed silent for a bit.

"just give her some time, i'm sure she'll realize she's being crazy after all of this sarah stuff blows over." i nodded. the door to the house creaked open, making me jump. out of the door came my little brother, charlie. i crouched down and picked up his tired figure.

"hey charlie, why're you still up?" i asked, slightly bouncing him on my hip.

"i was waiting for you to come home. momma is at work and i need my night-night kisses." he said seriously, pouting. jj smiled softly at this and took charlie from me, holding him up in the air slightly.

"how 'bout i tuck you in while your sister gets ready for bed?" he asked in a slight baby voice. charlie gave jj a tired smile, nodding. my heart melted at the sight; two of the most important boys in my life together. jj carried charlie inside, holding the door open for me with his foot. i followed after the two quietly, not wanting to wake up anyone else in the house.

jj and charlie turned into the first bedroom on the right, while i crept further into the house until i got to my room. after wiping off my makeup and putting my hair up, i made my way back to the boys.

peering into the room, i watched as jj delicately placed the blankets around charlie.

"where are my goodnight kissies??" charlie whined tiredly. jj chuckled before moving some of charlie's hair out of his face and gave him a light kiss on the forehead.

"g'night buddy." he whispered, staying near the boy until his eyes closed and breathing softened. my heart squeezed as i watched the interaction. jj was so soft and loving with charlie and it absolutely melted my heart. i tiptoed in and placed a light kiss on charlie's head. i put his favorite stuffed animal in his arms and, together, jj and i walked out of his room.

i closed the door ever so slowly as to not disturb the sleeping child. when i turned around, jj was there, staring at me. the cocky smirk he usually held was nowhere to be seen. instead, a small smile played at his lips, his soft blue eyes focused on my face. for reasons i tried to repress for many months, i couldn't look at him for more than a couple seconds before fidgeting nervously. jj placed his hand under my chin and lifted it, gently forcing me to hold his stare. when his hand dropped, my eyes remained locked on his, anticipating his next move. however, after a couple moments passed by, jj looked away and scratched at the back of his neck.

"it's been a long day, let's get you to bed."

i let out a light chuckle at that, but followed him to my room regardless. he stood near the edge of my room as i grabbed my pajamas and, as i reach to take off my shirt, he turned around, giving me the privacy that i didn't even ask for. i stopped for a moment to take in the action before continuing to strip and change into comfier clothes. when i finished, jj was still turned around. off of a whim and slight exhaustion, i walked right up behind him and hugged him, burying my face into his back. all the emotions i had buried for the boy in front of me came bubbling up, making me squeeze the boy a bit tighter. he clasped his hands over mine, letting out a deep, content sigh.

"c'mon," he said quietly, shuffling us towards the bed. he crawled in after me, leaving a sizable distance between the two of us.

once settled in, the two of us simply stared up at the ceiling, deep in thought. after a while, i closed me eyes, taking in everything that had happened in the past couple of weeks, including what was happening in that moment.

"it feels like everything is falling apart." i whispered, not opening my eyes.

"yeah, it does," he replied. after a few seconds, there was a rustling besides me. i opened my eyes ever so slightly and turned, seeing jj laying there, giving me a soft smile.

"but we always manage to get through it together." he finished.

"together." i repeated, my eyes getting heavier, the weight of everything pushing down onto my body. and so, the two of us fell asleep, just a couple inches closer than when we first laid down.

[looneyleyle]

outer banks masterlist

valse triste ~ r. cameron written 04.03.24 edited 06.08.24 bitchy kie ~ j. maybank written 04.18.22 reposted 04.05.24

[looneyleyle]

valse triste ~ r. cameron

synopsis: the ever forbidden love story between a pogue and a kook, a woman and death. after all, life imitates art far more than art imitates life (oscar wilde).

warnings: ig death mentioned, fighting, cameron-family typical warnings, i made oc portuguese but it's rlly not a prominent thing or anything.

words: 6181 words

notes: i was really excited about this idea!! lmk if you guys want more stuff like this!!

third person pov

valse triste is a piece composed by jean sibelius in 1903 for the finnish play "kuolema" (in english, "death"). the play, written by sibelius's brother-in-law, follows a woman on her death bed who is visited by death himself late in the night.

camila matos. pogue. a witty, beautiful girl raised on the cut. friend of john b, jj, kiara, and pope. an observer, always preferring to stay on the sidelines and take everything in. the best surfer of the pogues, which went hand in hand with her job at the country club as a lifeguard.

"ayo camila, heading back to the chateau?" jj asked after their shifts had finished.

"nah, i'm on little brother duty tonight while my parents work the late night shift. i'll pop in tomorrow before the boneyard though." she replied, grabbing her bike from the rack. just as she was about to ride off, a sleek, black range rover promptly cut her off and zoomed into the country club. a middle finger and flurry of obscenities left the blonde boy next to her's mouth.

"fucking asshole. one day he's gonna get what's coming for him." jj mumbled.

"he's a cameron, what do you expect?"

rafe cameron. king of the kooks. a hotheaded coke-addicted psychopath, at least in the eyes of the pogues. always flanked by his posse of kelce and topper. ever the impulsive, ending seemingly every party covered in blood, though usually not his own.

"what's up man?" topper greeted as rafe sat down at their table.

"hear about the boneyard party tomorrow?" kelce asked, not waiting for the man's reply. "lots of tourons around this time of year. i know ward has been on your back about the company. could be a good way to let off some steam" at the mention of his father, rafe's jaw clenched, the muscles in his arms and shoulders tensing.

"yeah, i might stop by."

the piece is divided into six prominent sections.

first, the invitation.

death knocks on the woman’s door and invites her to dance. the woman refuses, knowing of death and his intentions. death asks once again, only this time, the woman concedes, albeit reluctantly.

the party was in full swing by the time camila and the pogues got there. a couple empty kegs were scattered around, discarded red solo cups littering the ground.

"no fights this time guys. i mean it, we can't afford any more trouble." kiara warned the group, a pointed glare thrown at john b and jj.

"no fights." john b promised, hands raised up at kiara's accusatory glare.

"i make no promises. the kooks have it coming." jj commented, already looking at the group of kooks by the nearest keg. kie and jj started bickering, with pope and john b heading to one of the farther kegs to avoid kook central. camila rolled her eyes, not afraid of some entitled pricks.

as she made her way to the spout of the keg, she heard a voice from behind her.

"what's a girl like you doing over here?" the voice taunted. she rolled her eyes, continuing to pour herself a drink.

"ha ha rafe, do you really have nothing better to do than to go around picking fights?" she quipped, topping off her drink and turning to face the man. he was wearing a plain grey tee and some khaki shorts, completely overdressed compared to all the shirtless men roaming around. an amused smirk played across his lips, his eyes swimming with trouble.

"i'm not picking any fights sweetheart, i'm just making conversation. it's called being polite, you should try it sometime." he teased, towering over the girl. their height difference did nothing to deter her or her smart mouth.

"you wouldn't know polite if it crashed into your pretty little range rover. besides, i am being polite. i've just spent a whole minute talking to you and i haven't even kicked you in the balls."

"such a sweet way with words you have." camila rolled her eyes, starting to walk away from the man.

"ah yes, my goal in life, to make men swoon." as her back finally turned on rafe, he grabbed her arm, stopping her from going any further.

"rafe, i swear to god-"

"dance with me." he said, pulling her back towards him.

"why in the world would i dance with you?" camila asked, her mind reeling from the question. when has rafe cameron ever shown anything but anger towards the pogues? and now he's not only being somewhat civil, but asking to dance?

"just one dance, that's all i'm asking for. then i'll get out of your hair."

camila weighed the pros and cons, ultimately deciding that he would only get more annoying and more persistent the longer she denied him. and so, she stopped struggling against his hold, earning a victorious smirk from rafe.

"see? now that wasn't that hard, was it?" he patronized, leading her to a more secluded area.

"don't push your luck cameron." she then noticed just how far away they were from the rest of the partiers.

"if you're pulling me away from everyone to murder me, i'm-"

"relax, it's so your pogue buddies don't try and jump me for being near you. i don't think you want them seeing you either, dancing with their sworn enemy and all." he huffed, coming to a stop behind a pile of driftwood.

then, the dance.

the tempo picks up, albeit timidly, as death and the woman gain their bearings. the music is soft, reflecting the woman's unsureness of dancing with this stranger. their movements are sharp and calculated, as if measuring each other.

then, the music swells into a swinging waltz. death and the woman twist and turn in a flurry of dips, spins, and twirls, no longer rigid with distrust. the woman enjoys her time, carried away by the music, until she remembers just who her dance partner is.

the music was indiscernible, but still audible despite being so far away. some sort of slow-ish song played, and rafe took both of camila's hands in his, starting to sway them back and forth lazily.

"so c'mon, why'd you ask me to dance with you?" camila interrogated. rafe let out a sigh, his jaw clenching ever so slightly.

"i can't just want to talk to you?"

"i'm a pogue, rafe. one of those people you treat like shit? or have you forgotten?" she pointed out. rafe stayed quiet for a second, still moving them around in the dance.

"everyone just agrees with me all the time and it's fucking annoying. but you don't, you keep it real." he explained shortly, refusing to look at her. her heart jumped for a second, though she kept her face neutral.

"so i say something to you and it's 'keeping it real', but pope says the same thing and you start swinging?" she continued. his grip on her hands tightened a bit.

"he's a punk." was all rafe could come up with. camila smirked at that, but bit her cheek to prevent any further comments.

"so what do you like to do besides terrorize us pogues?"

and with that, one song turned to two, and two turned to four, until the two lost track of time. they eventually switched from dancing to sitting down on some driftwood, chatting away about themselves. camila learned that besides doing coke and making their lives hell, he likes to golf and fish. he has two younger sisters, sarah and wheezie, who annoy the everliving daylights out of him, but whom he cares for deeply nonetheless. he has a father who is constantly on his ass about everything, which tends to be the cause for his drug usage. he even admitted that he wants to get clean, but can't seem to stop.

rafe already knew more than he cared to share about camila. as creepy as it sounded, he would always notice when she was around, observing her. she was fit, good with a board, and wouldn't go around picking fights like the rest of the pogues. he did learn a bit more of the less obvious things about her, like that she has a younger brother, joao, and parents who work day in and day out running one of the only gas stations on the cut.

the two were laughing about some story about camila's brother when they heard a loud "what the fuck?!" coming from behind them. they turned to see jj, who was followed by a very confused looking kiara. it was that moment when camila realized just how close the two were sitting, and abruptly got up. she could have swore she heard a sigh coming from rafe, but she had bigger fish to fry at the moment.

"what the fuck are you doing over here with him?" jj seethed.

"look man, it-" rafe started, but was immediately cut off by camila.

"not now rafe." she mumbled. "jj, it's fine-"

"fine?!" jj had smoke coming out from his ears. "it's fine?! camila, have you forgotten everything this entitled douchebag has done to us?" camila didn't have a response to this. jj was right, rafe had given the pogues nothing but trouble for years, no good reason to trust him or even be near him. the man has tormented pogues for far too long, so why was she even entertaining a conversation with him?

"i'll take that as my queue to leave. it was nice talking with you camila. can't say the same to you maybank." rafe mumbled, already walking away, adding his pointed remark at the end.

"no no no, you don't get to walk away so easily rafe. what were you doing with camila-"

"jj, enough." kiara stopped him, holding him back from following rafe.

"oh, so we're just giving kooks free passes for trying to mack on our girls, i see how it is. that makes total sense." jj muttered, throwing his arms about in wide, angry gestures. he started walking back towards john b and pope, kie and camila following a couple paces behind.

"what were you doing with rafe?" she asked quietly. camila just looked around, wanting to be anywhere but the boneyard.

"nothing."

next, the rekindling.

death waits a moment for the woman to collect her thoughts. he asks again, slowly and gently, if she would like to continue. the woman hesitates, but agrees nonetheless.

a couple of days passed before camila saw rafe again. she got quite the mouthful from the pogues about the night, and didn't plan on revisiting that. so, she spent her days working at the country club, watching the waves to make sure no one was in trouble.

"well well well, look who it is." a pit sank in camila's stomach.

"hey rafe." she answered plainly. she knew jj was just a couple yards away, bussing tables. if he saw her talking to rafe again, he would probably go apeshit and lose his job.

"what's with the silent treatment? thought we had a nice conversation the other day." he asked, looking down at his hands through slanted eyes, fidgeting with his rings. he almost seemed nervous, but with his laid back posture and dry tone, he was anything but. it was almost intimidating the way he questioned her without even looking her way, yet she felt so compelled to answer.

"jj was right. you've done nothing but torment us for years. i don't owe you any conversation or dance or anything of the sort." he lifted an eyebrow at this, his focus now on the sea in front of them.

"i don't think i was tormenting you the other day." he said. he then finally looked at her, his piercing blue eyes staring straight into her soul. camila was always one to stand her ground, but his stare was too intense to hold.

"look, rafe, we're just too different. i mean, you're-"

"what, i'm a kook? is that your argument? c'mon camila, i thought we were past that bullshit by now." he drawled. camila refused to answer, causing him to sigh.

"look, i'm not- i'm not gonna force you to do something you don't want to, but i'm going to the mainland tomorrow, and i want you to come with." he stated, running a hand through his hair, no longer able to look at camila. her lack of response caused him to look back at her, and his face fell for a moment when she just stared back, no visual indication of leaning one way or the other.

"alright well, if you wanna come, i'll be outside the country club at 10." a couple beats passed, and he started walking away.

"make it outside the wreck at 10:30." she yelled out. he stopped in his tracks, looking back at her to give her what almost seemed to be a smile, and continued on back to the building. camila checked the deck, and luckily there was no jj in sight. she sighed, her heart racing.

what did i just get myself into? she thought, shaking away her thoughts and focusing back in on the waves.

the reunion.

death and the woman go back into the waltz. it begins quiet and slow, but quickly, the music soars, the woman being swept around by death in a frenzy of passion.

it was 10:30 on the dot, and no camila in sight. rafe had been anxiously tapping the steering wheel for the past five minutes, parked outside the wreck, getting a couple looks from the people on the sidewalks.

by 10:35, he had given up, letting his head hit the wheel. he was stood up.

"fuck!" he yelled, hitting the wheel.

"woah there, what're you all worked up about this early in the morning?" a voice asked from his passenger side. he looked over to see camila outside the rolled down window. rafe let out a breath before trying to find some excuse.

"i, uh- i got-"

"close your mouth pretty boy, you look like a fish." she laughed, getting into the car. she had on a white sundress with a red floral print, along with beaded and woven bracelets stacked on her wrists.

"sorry for being late, had to take joao to a friend's house before this."

"nah, it's fine, it's cool." he said, composing himself. they then took off, rafe's music filling the car. camila took the opportunity to study the man. he was wearing a blue polo and white shorts, some expensive watch on his wrist. his hair was a bit messy, which camila couldn't help but admire.

"so captain, what's the plan for today?" camila asked, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the silence between them. he just lazily rolled his head towards her, giving her a lopsided grin.

"you'll see."

the image burned itself into her memory, with his one hand on the wheel, the other on the gear shift, and his cocky, pretty little face. camila mentally beat herself up for how easily she was caving for this man.

rafe ended up having quite a wonderful plan. they started off by walking around in a beautiful botanical garden, admiring all the pretty flowers and plants. then, he took her to a little corner cafe, treating her to lunch. after that, he took her to an art museum, knowing a surprising amount about the paintings on the walls.

"how do you know so much about these?" she asked, cutting him off from an explanation of the andy warhol work to their right. he slowed down a bit, hyper fixating on the paintings.

"my..." rafe took a deep breath, forcing himself to continue. he hated talking about anything real, but he knew that he wouldn't get anywhere with camila if he didn't open up a bit. "i didn't know my mom much before she was gone, but she loved art. she would take me and sarah here all the time and would go on and on about each painting. once she was... gone, rose tried to do the same for us, but it just wasn't the same. so, i filled in for mom, taking sarah around just like she would." he explained, trying to keep his voice level. he started fidgeting with his ring, to which camila placed her hand over his, taking it into her own. rafe looked down at her, looking into her big eyes that urged him to continue. he took in a deep breath and ran his free hand through his hair.

"i was nine. dad didn't take it too well, locking himself up in his office for days at a time. when rose entered the picture, sarah and i didn't really consider her a mom. still don't." he didn't seem to want to continue, so camila asked him about the next painting, relief filling rafe at the change in topic, very much aware of camila's hand still in his.

that night, while rafe drove them back to outer banks, camila couldn't find it in her to dislike him anymore. she understood where he was coming from, which totally did not justify the things he had done to the pogues, but allowed her to empathize with why he did what he did. at his core, he was just a boy who never truly got to feel the love of a family, who had to step up at an early age and suffer from constant pressure from his work-obsessed father.

when rafe parked outside of her house, camila just sat there, not wanting the day to end.

"i had a lot of fun today." she told him, looking up at him with those same big eyes from before. rafe couldn't breathe, he didn't know what was wrong with him. he had never been this affected by anyone in his life.

"yeah, me too." the tension in the car was quickly climbing, both sitting there, waiting to see what the other would do.

"give me your phone." camila ordered, breaking up the tension. rafe just blinked for a second, the words taking a moment to process in his head. then, he quickly grabbed his phone from his pocket and handed it to the girl. she typed away for a second before handing it back.

"i'll see you later rafe." and with that, she was out the door and gone, rafe staring at his phone.

new contact!

camila ☼ (xxx) xxx-xxxx

after that, rafe and camila found themselves seeing each other all the time, behind the pogues' backs, of course. he would pick her up from shifts, taking her back to his to go on the boat, or walking along the beach. she even tried to teach him how to surf, but to no avail. they would spend late nights wrapped up in blankets, watching some horror movie or dumb comedy. she was helping him to find healthier coping habits to deal with the constant stress and thoughts he would have, even getting him to schedule a consultation with a therapist on the mainland. the experience was new for the both of them, so surprisingly domestic considering their fiery personalities. of course, there was still the constant banter and snarky comments, but there were also vulnerable conversations, and moments in which they would just hold each other, trying to wash away the other's worries.

then, the turmoil.

the woman battles with herself. to give herself to death, to give in to what she know she needs, or to fight back and remain as she is?

of course, the two were destined to face some troubles. in fact, they were surprised that they got through a whole month and a half without being caught or having anyone suspicious of them.

it was kiara who first noticed something. everyone was at the chateau, just bumming about, laying in the hammocks and splayed across the furniture. camila's phone was going off like crazy when the girl stepped inside to make a sandwich. kie, who was the closest to her phone, picked it up to silence it, but noticed the contact that was blowing her up.

my bitch boy <3 when are you coming over i have popcorn i even got those candies that you like c'mon, no one's home rn, but we don't have all day

kiara looked up at the others, all of them off in their own little worlds. kiara silenced the notifications and got back in her seat.

"hey guys?" she started when camila entered the room again. everyone mumbled some noise of acknowledgement. "wanna head out to the beach tonight? supposed to be a really clear sky tonight, we can do some stargazing."

"yeah, sounds good to me."

"sounds kinda boring, can i bring a j?"

"sure."

"sorry, i can't tonight." kiara looked up at the girl.

"you can't? why not?" she pushed, trying to keep it subtle.

"oh, i have to watch my little brother. parents working late again tonight."

"ah, i see, you're all good." kiara replied, but remained skeptical.

not thirty minutes later, camila left, bidding the group goodnight. kiara watched her calculatedly as she left.

"what's that look for?" pope asked, noticing the strange behavior of his friend.

"we'll see..."

the next person to notice was jj. the two would always purposely work the same shifts so they could bike back to the cut together. but, camila claimed that she had to work overtime the past couple of weeks. when he took a peek at the lifeguarding schedule on the wall, however, it said she had requested to change her hours, not work overtime like she claimed.

next, john b. jj was on his typical kook rant, and when rafe's name got mentioned, camila visibly cringed. john b looked around, but no one else seemed to have noticed.

pope, the supposed smart one of the group, was the last to figure out that something was up. camila had to take an urgent call, going inside while everyone else was waxing up their boards. pope, however, really needed to take a piss, and followed shortly behind her. as he went into the bathroom, he could hear camila's voice on the other side of the wall. he tried not to listen in, he really did, but he couldn't help himself.

"rafe, c'mon, i've been at your place nearly every day for the past week. i need some pogue time tonight. they're going surfing and... i know, we can hang out tomorrow. ok, i'll talk to you later. bye."

pope couldn't believe his ears, did he hear her right? why was she talking to rafe? why did she say she had been at his house for the past week? she had told the group she was working extra shifts for a sick coworker.

when camila came back, she started waxing her board while chatting with john b and jj, giving pope a chance to share this newfound information.

"hey kie? c'mere for a second." he whispered, moving away from the chatty surfers.

"what's up?"

"i just overhead camila on the phone with rafe cameron." kiara's jaw dropped for a second, the pieces connecting in her mind.

"oh my god. and you're sure it was him? couldn't be anyone else?"

"how many rafe's do you know in the outer banks, cuz i can only think of one." he replied in a hushed, snarky tone. the two looked back at the rest of the group, who were blissfully unaware of the secret meeting going on a couple yards away. kiara simply nodded at pope, formulating a plan in her head.

that night, once everyone was done surfing and a bonfire was starting, kie enacted her plan.

"hey camila, i heard rafe talking about you the other day." she said, feigning confusion. camila's face paled.

"that fucking asshole, he better keep her name out of his mouth!" jj yelled out.

"what did he say about me?" she asked, trying to mask her horror.

"i don't really remember, but the odd thing is? i don't remember him saying a single bad thing." camila breathed out a small sigh of relief, which didn't go undetected by john b.

"that's weird. maybe he's turning over a new leaf or something?" she suggested. jj snorted at that.

"are you kidding? rafe cameron, change? he'll always be the same entitled asshole for the rest of his life, no doubt about it." pope scoffed. camila's hand clenched against her thigh, but she refused to let them know. that reaction right there was the reason why she could never say anything to them. they hate him too much, they would never give him a chance.

"look, i gotta go, i forgot i told joao that i'd get up early tomorrow to teach him how to surf. g'night guys." camila lied, getting her stuff and leaving them. everyone in the circle looked around at each other, inquisitive glances everywhere.

"something's going on." john b remarked, everyone nodding along.

when rafe didn't hear from camila for two days, he got worried. he understood that she could be busy, she would often put her phone on do not disturb for days at a time when she was particularly stressed and didn't want the added social burden of technology. but two days without a single call or text was unheard of.

my bitch boy <3 camila? you okay? haven't heard from you in a while? are you sick? i can bring over some soup if you want

no answer. for three hours rafe paced around his room, trying to occupy himself with something, anything to get his mind off of her. she could be busy, she could be working.

but rafe's brain wouldn't stop. worries of her being sick of him, finally realizing what a screw-up he is invaded his mind. she was the one person that he felt truly understood him, and he wouldn't give that up that easily.

he had to force himself to not drive over to her house. they had just had a talk about healthy boundaries the other day, and going to her house and pounding on the door to see that she was alive was not an example of healthy boundaries. so, he called her.

after a couple rings, she picked up.

"hey, are you alright? haven't heard from you in a while." he started, trying to seem as calm and cool about this, despite him freaking out on the inside.

"uh, yeah, i'm ok..." she trailed off. rafe could tell that there was something wrong, she would normally launch off into how her day was, telling rafe every minute detail of her day.

"i can tell something's wrong. did something happen at work? with the pogues? is joao ok?" he asked, rattling off possible problems. she let out a slight laugh. in all reality, his worry made her heart soar. she was never worried that rafe was using her or anything, but the confirmation that he noticed the tiny changes in her mood and cared to make it better had her heart doing flips.

"i just- kie knows. i can tell. she brought you up the other day and-" rafe could hear sobs coming from the other end of the line. "she looked so disappointed in me. and god, the things they say about you, they'd never hear me out." rafe's heart broke at this. in his mind, there was only one solution to this problem. she couldn't have both him and the pogues. and when it came to choosing between someone and rafe, the odds were never in his favor.

"i love them so much, they're my best friends, and i don't want to lose them, but i don't want to lose you either."

"i understand. i know how much they mean to you. i wouldn't want to keep you from them." he spoke, eyes tearing up as he twisted his ring around with his thumb.

"i- no, that's not what i'm saying rafe. i'm not giving you up, not in a million years. i, god, i don't know how to describe how much you mean to me. i just don't know how to make them see that you're not this monster they think you are."

"but baby, what if... what if they're right? i mean, i'm no saint. i'm fucked up in the head and i've done terrible things to you guys that i have no way of making up to you guys." he continued, starting to spiral.

"breathe, rafe, breathe. we've talked about this. yes, you've had some not great moments in the past. but look at how far you've come. you haven't gone to barry in months. you're starting to see a therapist. you haven't been in a fight in months. and i'm so proud of you for your progress, and i'm gonna be here with you every step of the way, no matter what happens." she poured. he nodded, even though she couldn't see through the phone. it was quiet for a minute, before...

"come over." she told him. his eyes went wide, she had never invited him over to her place. he wasn't dumb, he knew it was because of their status. when she first walked into the cameron mansion, she looked so uncomfortable and small. it got better as the days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, but she never truly got over how big and empty the house felt. rafe had seen her house from the outside, a little ranch house surrounded by trees. they in no way shape or form lived in even similar situations, and it was a tense part of their relationship, or whatever they wanted to call themselves.

"i'll be there in 15."

when rafe got to camila's house, he was bombarded by little 13 year old joao, who had been kicking a soccer ball outside the house.

"are you rafe? like the rafe? the one my sister's dating?" rafe smiled at the boy. knowing that camila had talked about him to her family... knowing that she had talked about him and joao's first reaction wasn't to flinch away... it wasn't something he was used to.

"ay, joao, let the man breathe." rafe heard camila yell. he looked up to the front door to see her there, wrapped up in a blanket. the two boys made their way to her, rafe immediately wrapping his arms around her.

"hey." he whispered into her hair.

"hey." she mumbled into his chest.

"hey, i'm still here!" pouted joao, giving the two the same big eyes that camila would give rafe. it ran in the family, he supposed.

the three walked into the house, running into camila's mother in the kitchen.

"hello mrs. matos. i'm rafe cameron." he introduced cordially, sticking out his hand stiffly to the woman. joao giggled to himself, while a smile spread on camila's face. rafe gave them a confused look before he was crushed into a bone-breaking hug from camila's mom.

"it's so good to finally meet you rafe. i've heard so much about you." she gushed. rafe remained tense in the hug, trying to ease into it, but not used to the touch.

"all bad things i presume." he joked, but mrs. matos gave him a pointed look.

"you wouldn't be standing in this house if i had heard bad things about you kiddo." she quipped, moving back to the kettle on the stovetop. rafe looked over at camila and gave her a dopey, lovesick smile that he couldn't repress, not used to someone thinking so highly of him.

"c'mon, let's go to my room." she directed, dragging him to another room.

"i want that door open filha! no funny business!"

"yeah yeah mãe, i know."

"see ya rafe!" joao called out, bouncing on over to his own room.

"see ya kiddo." he called out with a big smile on his face. rafe had never felt so... homey before. it was a nice change in pace.

when rafe entered camila's room, he took a minute to just admire all the decorations. a broken surfboard hung like a decoration on her wall, surrounded by photos of her, her family, and the pogues. as he looked at each of the pictures, he found one from their first "date". it was a candid of him looking at one of the paintings in the museum. his heart couldn't take it, it couldn't physically take the sheer amount of emotions he had felt since entering this home. he felt arms wrap around his waist, camila's head resting against his shoulder blade, and for the first time in a very long time, he felt truly and completely relaxed, unburdened by all the problems of his life.

and finally, the concession.

the woman finally decides. she will go on and give herself to death, to leave with him. taking his extended hand, the woman follows death into the beyond.

the next day, the pogues and camila decided to go to a local pizza joint after spending the day running errands for heyward. the group hadn't commented on camila's recent weird behavior, and they acted so normal that she assumed they had forgotten all about it.

but, of course, that would be too easy.

as soon as they stepped inside, they saw rafe with his sisters, sitting at a table near the entrance. camila nearly froze in her spot. rafe hadn't noticed yet, he was just sitting there, listening to wheezie talk about who knows what.

"what are you doing here kooks? i thought pizza would be too pogue for you guys." jj started, going straight to their table. kiara sighed, wanting just one peaceful day without this kook-pogue bullshit.

"not now man." rafe told him, staying firmly in his seat.

"too afraid to fight me? nah, i get it, you're a lame ass kook who can't put his money where his mouth is." he continued. camila looked to see if anyone was going to stop him, to pull him away from a fight like they normally do, but they were all looking at her. of course, they knew. hell, they might have set this whole thing up for all camila knew.

"just leave us alone, we're just trying to eat some pizza." he continued, keeping his voice level, focusing on not letting it raise. jj started making chicken noises, walking around rafe's table, causing a scene.

“guys, c’mon, he said to leave them alone.” she finally spoke up. jj turned to her, amazed.

"you're sticking up for this guy? what's going on with you camila?"

“he’s not as bad as you guys make him seem-” a few of them scoffed, and camila felt like crying. she didn't want to have this conversation, not here, not now, and definitely not in public.

"guys, he- he really-" rafe looked up at the tears in her eyes and sprung up, causing jj and john b to square up, ready to fight him off. instead of the fight they were expecting, he simply went up to camila, wiping the few tears off of her face and whispering into her hair. everyone in the vicinity was shell-shocked, even sarah and wheezie. they had never seen their brother like this, and they loved it. the pogues, however, were not loving this.

"hey man, get off her," jj started, trying to pull rafe away from camila. it was john b who stopped him, holding him back from even touching rafe. pope was astounded, about to go up to rafe himself, when kie placed a hand on his chest, telling him to calm down.

"we're gonna get going." kie started, pushing the angry men out. kie lingered behind for a second, looking at her best friend who was obviously torn by the situation. she came up to camila and rafe, putting a comforting hand on camila's arm.

"we're gonna get through this, alright? none of us love this, but they'll come around." she told the girl, who nodded, giving the other girl a hug.

"you gonna stay here with him?" she asked.

"yeah, i'm gonna stay with rafe." camila told her. she whispered a couple 'thanks's to kie before going back to rafe.

"hey, hurt her and you're dead. like actually, cuz jj and pope might kill you either way." she warned.

"yes ma'am. thank you kiara." he told her, wrapping an arm around camila. with that, kie left, dealing with the fuming men outside, while rafe guided camila back to the table.

"oh my gosh, you're camila, right?" sarah started, not believing that her brother was capable of feeling human emotions, and for a pogue nonetheless.

"you're gorgeous!" wheezie gushed. camila's face heated up, not knowing what to say.

"how 'bout we take the rest of this to go and have a movie night at mine, yeah?" rafe asked his girls. sarah and wheezie immediately jumped up, ready to spend time with rafe and his mystery girl.

"it's all gonna be okay, yeah? they'll come around." rafe told her, squeezing her arm gently.

"yeah, it's all gonna be alright." she responded, pulling him down so his forehead rested on hers.

fin.

[looneyleyle]

i just wanted to say thank you so much everyone?? i hopped off of tumblr for a bit and came back to find out that waves blew up?? it warmed my heart to see people enjoying my work, thank you so so so so so much everyone <3

[looneyleyle]

hogwarts express ~ d. thomas

synopsis: just an average ride to hogwarts with an overly fluffy gyrffindor

warnings: short, very fluffy

words: 401

note: from my wattled account, written jan 16 2022

first person pov

"dean, stop!" i laughed, trying to get him to stop tickling me.

"and why should i do that?" he asked teasingly, continuing his assault on my sides. confided in our train compartment, i couldn't get away from him. no one passing by our compartment seemed to notice the two of us, so i couldn't count on a hero saving the day. he was relentless in his attack, not stopping until i begged for mercy.

"p-please, i'll do a-anything." i laughed, the sensation starting to hurt a bit. noticing this, he stopped, but still gave me a wide smirk.

"anything, aye?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. i nodded, knowing he would never do anything that would hurt me.

"hmm…" he thought, smirking at me before looking me up and down.

"that is," i started, getting up from my seat and coming towards dean. once i was a couple of milimeters away from his face, he closed his eyes in anticipation.

"… if you can catch me." i whispered in his ear before sprinting out of the compartment. i briefly caught his confused expression on my way out, but i was more focused on losing the tall boy. i could hear him sprinting behind me, running into a couple of people. just as i was about to make it to another passenger car, i felt arms wrap around me and pull me backwards harshly. i soon found myself pressed against the wall of the train, trapped by the arms and body of one tall, cocky gryffindor.

"i caught you." he gloated, a perfect smirk resting upon his perfect face.

"and what will you do with me now that you've captured me?" i asked. he pushed his body closer to mine and flickered his gaze down to my lips.

"this." he whispered before leaning down, catching my lips. we paid no attention to the people passing us by on the train. it was just me and him, pressed up against each other in the cramped train corridor. my arms wrapped loosely around his neck, a playful kiss, just enjoying each other's presence, no sense of time or urgency. when he pulled away, he still had the same goofy smirk on his gorgeous face.

"we should do this more often." he said against my lips, lightly pecking them before pulling us back to our compartment.

[looneyleyle]

waves ~ f. odair

synopsis: a look into the healing mind of a tortured champion

warnings: angsty, hunger-games typical trauma, some hurt and comfort, mentioned forced prostitution

words: 1916

first person pov

waves.

that was what the doctors told me to focus on. well, they told me to focus on something calming. something soothing that i could draw upon from my life before the capitol, before the games, before the trauma.

so, i thought of waves. not the big flashy ones far out on the horizon. i thought of the small ones that ripple just barely onto the sand line at night. the ones that would lightly wash over my bare feet during my nightly strolls with finnick.

finnick. another constant from my life, but not before the trauma. we were raised in the same district, but i didn't know him before the games. he would always be out in the water, spearing fish and weaving baskets, whereas i sat in the shop, drying up ocean plants and grinding up chunks of sea salt. i knew of him during his games, of course, but i never met him until i was reaped myself. it was a couple of years after him, five to be exact. my family was one of the poorer ones of the district. our shop didn't bring in much money, as most families collected and made their own herbs and spices from their time in the water. we mainly sold to the older folks who couldn't go out themselves, or when families needed something in a pinch. that was why i had my name in so many times. it was my last year of being eligible for the games, so i applied for a tesserae for each of my family members. rarely anyone else in the district applied for it, but there were a few other kids who did the same, coming from the same poorer part of the district as i did.

and so, as fate had it, i was reaped for the seventieth hunger games, and came to know the capitol's darling, finnick. he was a charming boy, everyone in panem knew that. by the time of my games, he had sprouted into quite a handsome young man, at the ripe age of 19. i was only a woman, of course i recognized it. in fact, i savored it. i knew i had no skills to win the games, i might as well drink in the sights before the end.

miraculously, i survived my games. survived was... a word you could use, i guess. the neverending trauma, the waking up in cold sweat, the sound of screams ringing in your ears never feels like "surviving", but that's what it could technically be called.

this is the part where i tell you that finnick was there to comfort and guide me through these times, except it's not. in fact, something in my games set him off so badly that he hid himself from me. during my victory tour, he locked himself up in his room, only showing his face during the speeches. instead, mags comforted me, being the wonderful woman she is. she waved off finnick's behavior with a sad glint in her kind eyes whenever i brought it up.

instead, it was me who comforted him. i was sitting in my room in the capitol, waiting for the party the following day at snow's mansion, when i heard a loud thunk outside of my door. when i opened it, i saw finnick, leaned up against the wall, in a daze. i immediately ushered him in, his body moving lethargically through the apartment. he all but fell onto the couch, eyes dragging along the surroundings until they finally honed in on me. when he locked eyes with me, his expression faltered, and his eyes began to water. i didn't know what was going on, the ever so cocky and charismatic man was in my victory tour apartment, almost sobbing.

"i won't let them take you, i won't let them." was all he was able to say. he muttered it over and over again, i started to seriously worry about my safety. who was 'they', and what did they want with me?

he later explained the predicament, how the capitol would take "desirable" victors and sell them to the highest bidder for the night. he told me about his 'friend' who had gone through it, but even as the word 'friend' left his lips, he knew that i saw right through him.

when my victory tour officially ended, i returned to district four with a new house and all the riches in panem. i offered my parents and sister to live with me, but they insisted on staying in the shop. they wouldn't take the money i got from the games either, but i managed to pay off a fair few of their bills before they could realize it each month.

so, i was the sole occupant of an overly extravagant house, no need to work, no need to fish, no need to lift a finger. my job was to sit there on the couch and rot away.

after one of his particularly long stays at the capitol, finnick and i found ourselves in a very similar situation to before: him, leaning on my door, broken, looking for some form of real human connection. i, of course, let him in, and just sat there and talked with him. he began to get antsy, pacing my living room. it was still fairly warm outside, so i decided to take him on a nice, calming, late-night walk on the beach. we let the little waves nip at our feet as we talked about small things, nothing too serious. it felt like everything in our lives were entirely too serious, and a break was much appreciated.

this became our routine. every time finnick got back from the capitol, he would show up on my doorstep, and we would take a long walk on the beach. finnick once told me that it was the only way he could get through those stays there, the thought that he would soon be walking among the waves with me.

waves.

when finnick got reaped for the quarter quell, it felt like the air was knocked out of me. it was finnick and mags, and while i stepped forward to volunteer, i was held back by one of the other victors. finnick had talked to me about it a few nights before, lying in bed with me. he made me promise that if one of us was reaped, the other wouldn't volunteer. it would do us no use if we were both in there. there was no chance of the capitol allowing two victors to make it out of the games alive again, not after the chaos that followed katniss and peeta's victory.

as soon as finnick was transported off to the capitol, i locked myself in my house. my bedsheets still smelled like him, and i bunched them up in my hands and cried into them.

i battled with myself, wondering if i should even watch the games. on one hand, i'd know for a fact if he was alive. on the other, i don't think i could bear the sights of him being maimed, mauled, or mutilated. ultimately, to keep my peace of mind, i decided against watching the games. one of the other victors watching was to inform me if he died, and nothing else. i instead spent my days weaving, something finnick taught me over the years. it was his way of focusing his mind, calming the thoughts. when i weaved, it was like he was there right behind me, arms wrapped around my torso as he whispered into my hair the directions.

i didn't know how many days into the games it was, but one day, at some late hour of the night, i heard knocking at my door. my stomach dropped. i could only assume the worst, that someone was here to tell me that finnick had died. i rushed down the stairs and swung open the door, only to be met by a mob of peacekeepers who violently dragged me out of the house and knocked me unconcious.

i don't remember much of what happened to me whilst in the capitol, and the doctors say that's good. they don't want me dwelling on whatever torture they might have put me through. but it freaked me out. according to the doctors, i was there for months. months of my life were just casually blank in my memory, and that freaked me the fuck out. this would be the point where i would start hyperventilating, and the doctors would tell me to focus on the waves.

waves.

the small waves that would hit the sand back at home. the waves of golden hair resting on my chest when i would wake up in my house in victory village. the now bronzer waves that i would see during my daily visitor hours. the lack of sunshine in thirteen really paled out finnick's appearance, though i've been told it was worse when he knew i was still in the capitol. they knew i was precious to him, they knew taking me would be the ultimate revenge towards him. as to how they knew about me and finnick, i had no clue. we weren't officially anything, though i suppose it was a bit incriminating when he moved over half of his belongings to my house a year or so after my games. after all, snow had eyes everywhere.

after a month or so in the medward of district 13, i was finally cleared to roam around on my own, provided that i came in for weekly check-ins. as soon as the words left the doctor's lips, finnick was at the door to my room, arm poised to help steady myself as we walked around. the doctors suggested that we head down to the cafeteria to get me socialized, but finnick seemed to have other plans. i didn't know my way around thirteen, but i knew that a latch in the ceiling certainly could not be the way into the cafe. instead, it took us outside. it was night out, and much colder than the nights in four ever were. finnick simply looked back at me, hand extended towards me with a question lingering in his sea green eyes. i took his hand with no hesitation, letting him pull me up and into the grass. the fresh air filled my lungs, after months of being locked up in stuffy rooms, both in the capitol and in thirteen. we walked in silence, me taking everything in, finnick's hand never leaving mine. eventually, i felt the texture of the ground beneath me change. looking down, i watched as my feet were swallowed by sand. my eyes quickly surveyed the area around us, and quickly spotted a calm pond fed by a small stream. the stream caused the slightest of ripples in the water, which just barely made it to the sand.

"it isn't anything like four, but it's the closest we have here. i would come out here almost every night while you were in the capitol, right there, hoping that i would get to take you here sometime, or better yet, to take you back to four." he told me. i looked up at him, my body aflame from his words. my heart was heavy, knowing how much he suffered while i was there, but knowing that we were here, right now, helped wash away the pain, like the waves hitting the sand.

[looneyleyle]

daylight

luke castellan x daughter of ares reader

3.8k you and luke castellan via percy jackson

tags. the tangledinlove special (jealousy trope, best friends in love, denial of feelings etc.) and title from the tswift song

a/n. i havent written in sooo long please don’t make fun… also i kiss canon and characterization goodbye because i have not read the books since i was 7 years old

i. back and forth from new york (sneaking in your bed)

Percy Jackson has become a light sleeper.

He didn’t think it was even possible to be yanked from sleep so harshly, but finds himself jolting awake whenever the kid nexts to him so much as turns over in his sleep.

He chalks the nerves up to his new… situation. If finding out your father is Poseidon and watching your mother turn into dust Avengers: Infinity War style could be called that.

This is also the first time he’s slept around so many people, so he thinks he’s just on edge. It’s not like he was ever close enough with anyone to warrant a sleepover before.

He shuts his eyes, willing himself to go back to sleep.

Until he can’t.

There’s tossing and turning from across the room, and then a muffled noise.

Someone’s sleep talking.

Percy groans in frustration before realizing he’s being too loud. Thankfully, the kid next to him seems to be desensitized to random nighttime grumblings. Which is understandable, seeing as there’s an entire classroom of other children around them.

Percy takes his pillow that’s barely thicker than his forearm and clamps it firmly over his ears. He counts sheep. He imagines them jumping over fences when that doesn’t work. And then he imagines them as Chiron when that doesn’t work either.

The grumbling doesn’t stop. But as Percy peels the pillow from his ears, he realizes that the measly fabric was able to muffle something.

The crying.

Percy squints across the room, his eyes well adjusted to the darkness by now. He can see the Thrasher now, tossing in their sheets as quiet sobs leave their mouth.

Heard what happened to you on the hill. And I just…

He can make out a dark mop of hair.

Wanted to say I’m really sorry.

Tall limbs and a red cotton shirt.

I know what you’re going through, believe me. I’m—

Luke.

That’s Luke’s bed, Percy realizes. The heroic and brave and wise boy who introduced him to camp is crying thirty feet away from him, and he has no idea what to do.

A twig snaps from outside, and Percy jolts upright. Ah, of course, how could he have forgotten about the second reason he’s feeling so twitchy? Apparently all of those mythological monsters he’d learned about are real, too. Because someone out there is plotting against him.

The memory of rain soaked clothes and the feeling of a sharp horn under his hands has Percy fumbling for his pocket, sweaty fingers closing around Riptide.

Should he wake Luke? Surely he would know what to do. But the idea sounded ridiculous. The camp was safe, it had to be. Grover had said it himself. It wasn’t possible for anything to get past that old tree on the hill.

But rational thinking was beginning to look less rational since he was alone with whatever creature was outside. Something was definitely on the other side of the wooden walls, and it was just Percy and his stupid pen against whatever monster is making its way nearer.

Whatever it is is nearly silent, making its way around with soft footfalls and quiet steps. But the wood of the patio outside creaks under their weight, and Percy thumbs the cap of his pen nervously.

The doorknob twitches, and a cold chill goes down Percy’s spine when he realizes that the door isn’t locked. The door creaks open without protest.

It’s a person.

Much less scary than previously anticipated, but a potential threat nonetheless. Percy watches in awe as the hooded figure carefully steps over the floorboard that he nearly tripped over about thirty times already, dodging limbs hanging out of beds and sleeping bags. A perfectly trained ninja in the night.

Percy pushes himself up using a forearm, concealing Riptide in his sleeve.

“Who are you?” he croaks, voice choppy from disuse. “I have a weapon, so don’t try anything.”

He winces at the way it's much less intimidating than he hoped.

The figure whips around, their hood slipping down to reveal their features. Moonlight streaming in through a window illuminates your face.

Oh. It’s you.

Luke had introduced you to him earlier in the day, and he can’t remember much about you. But he remembers the easy way Luke had been around you, a closeness that Percy hadn’t seen before.

—

You were lingering around the forge, and had gotten a front row seat to Percy nearly setting someone on fire.

“Luke, why are you giving hot tools to twelve year olds?” you’d asked as Percy shed his goggles and gloves frustratedly.

The two boys turned around to find you standing right behind them.

Percy flinched away, and Luke laughed at the face he was making. “Percy, this is—”

“Luke’s best friend,” you had proclaimed, slotting yourself against his side. Percy was on the fence with what he thought about Ares kids, but the difference between you and Clarisse could not be more clear. You were all smiles as you reached down to ruffle Percy’s hair. “Don’t tell Chris, or he’ll get a little angry.”

“Sure, killer,” Luke had said, a smile lighting up his face. He turned away from Percy to face you completely, both of his hands coming to rest on your sides. “I’ll see you at lunch?”

You saluted him seriously, but the way your other hand curled around his arm was awfully casual. “Absolutely, sir.”

He squeezed you once, sending you leaning away from his grasp. Percy felt like he was intruding on something as he watched the two of you playfully fight in front of him.

With a pointed look, Percy’d said, “Uhh. Alright. Nice to meet you?”

You at least had the shame to look a little embarrassed as you released Luke from the headlock you’d put him in. “It was nice to meet you too, Percy.” You took extra care to whack the back of Luke’s head as you left. “I’ll leave you to it!”

Luke watched you leave, a fond smile on his face as he tried to straighten out his hair. “Sorry, where were we?”

—

“What are you doing up?” you ask from across the room, keeping your voice as quiet as possible. Red Converse hit the floor softly as you make yourself comfortable in a cabin that’s definitely not yours. “It’s late. Go to sleep.”

“I thought curfew was strictly enforced here.”

“It is,” you yank your tattered hoodie over your head, dropping it onto the foot of Luke’s bed. “So keep it down before you wake up Katie. She’s snitched on me twice already.”

Percy huffs. “I’m not even—”

“S-Sorry.”

You and Percy go silent.

“It won’t… I won’t—”

“Luke,” Percy thinks he hears you say. You crouch at his side, sweeping his hair away from his face. Without even a grimace, or a sign of disgust, you wipe what must be his sweat off on your flannel pajama pants. Your voice is softened with affection. “It’s just a nightmare.”

“I won’t fail again,” he hiccups instead.

Your shoulders sag. With practiced hands, you shift the boy over and settle onto the empty part of the mattress with him.

Percy knows he’s being nosy, but curiosity keeps his eyes glued to your movements. You seem to know exactly what to do, digging through a bag at your feet and pulling out a cool water bottle. Your hands go to Luke’s shoulders as you gently coax him upwards, placing the water in his grip.

Luke’s eyes are still shut when he says, “Hey, killer.”

“Hi, hero.”

“What’re you doin’ here?”

When you don’t answer, Luke tips his head back to drink before tossing the bottle somewhere on the floor. He shifts over, giving you more room to lay down. Percy freezes when you meet his gaze head on through the darkness.

“Go to sleep,” you whisper, and Percy knows you’re not just talking to Luke.

You disappear into the mattress as Luke pulls you into a hug. Percy hears quiet rumbling as you whisper something to him, and he can’t tell which one of you pulls his head into the crook of your neck.

Luke sleeps silently for the rest of the night.

ii. now that i thought of you (things will never be the same)

Capture the Flag scares Percy to no end.

A chill goes down his spine as the other team lets out their battle cries, and he begins to doubt what Chiron said about no maiming being allowed. Some of those kids look like they’re out for blood.

The nerves only get worse as Annabeth drags him off to someplace in the woods and promptly leaves him to his own devices. No plan, no help, no sense of direction. He’s honestly expecting a bear to come out of the woods and maul him half to death, but after what feels like an hour of silence, he lounges back on a bit of rocks and watches the clouds.

“Hey, Goldilocks.”

Fear launches Percy to his feet as he takes in his surroundings. Riptide slips out of his hands and clatters onto his shield, spinning around the curved piece of metal like a Beyblade.

It’s you. Again.

“Relax,” you say quickly, raising your hands to show him you mean no harm. Your sword is tucked away and you have a slight smile on your face. “I was just going to ask you what you’re doing all alone out here. Our flag’s in the other direction, if you didn’t know.”

“I know,” Percy huffs, picking up his own weapon. He rights his armor as he looks at you suspiciously. “This girl Annabeth dragged me out here.”

“Annabeth,” you say amusedly. You glance around the two of you like she’s going to jump out of a bush.

“She’s long gone. She dragged me out here just to ditch me,” he says bitterly. “You know her?”

You have a weird smile on your face. “She’s like my little sister.”

Luke had said the same thing to him, out by the archery fields yesterday. “So you and Luke, you’re like, siblings too, then?”

“Gods, no!” you protest, your face scrunching together in disgust. “He’s just… He’s like…”

Percy watches you fumble for your words, his brow raised. You seemed pretty disgusted at his suggestion.

“He’s just Luke,” you decide on, and Percy nods, even though he doesn’t really understand. For a brief second, you look horrified again. “Did he… Say that we’re like siblings?”

“No,” he says, and watches as you smile slowly, satisfied.

Ohh, Percy wants to say. It’s like that. But he knows that you could probably tear his head off if you wanted to, so he bites his tongue.

“How long have you guys known each other?” he asks instead.

Your smile grows fond as you think about him. “Our entire lives. We were friends before either of us even knew about all of this.” You gesture to the two of you and then to the woods around you.

“That’s a long time.”

“Yeah. I couldn’t imagine this place without him,” you say thoughtfully, your gaze growing far away. “Hermes is lucky to have a son like him. He’s great.”

You talk about him so kindly. For a second, he can see his Mom in your eyes, and the adoring way she would speak about his dad on the rare occasions she would bring him up. And Percy knows it’s not nice to assume, but… He’s assuming.

Percy doesn’t phrase it like a question when he says, “You like Luke.”

A twig snaps somewhere nearby.

You’re silent for a second. “I — What do you mean?”

Percy doubles down. “You have a crush on him.”

“Alright, Goldilocks,” you say, amused. “I don’t like Luke.”

“Sure.”

“I don’t!” you insist, looking awfully embarrassed for someone who ‘definitely doesn’t like Luke.’ “And even if I did, he would never like me back, so…”

You turn to face the woods, and Percy has no doubt that your face is on fire.

“I thought you guys liked each other.”

“Percy, stop talking.”

“Like when you snuck into the cabin, I thought—”

“Percy,” you snap, your voice low.

“—you were dating. Like Jim and Pam. Or like Rory and Dean.”

You whirl back around, curious. “You’ve seen Gilmore Girls?”

He realizes what he said too late. “My mom made me watch it.”

Your smile disappears under your helmet as you slip it back on. “Good for her. And I’m sorry to leave you here, but I have to go.”

He frowns. “What? Why?” Percy almost doesn’t want you to leave. You’re the first person he’s seen in an hour, and your company isn’t that bad.

“My sister is about fifty feet away, and I’m supposed to be defending my flag that’s halfway across the woods.”

Percy perks up at this. “Annabeth’s back?”

Finally. He isn’t sure what she’d wanted him to do, because he definitely hasn’t done it.

You shove his shield into his hands as you brush past him. “No. Clarisse is.”

The words take a second to register, but once they do, Percy whips around in your direction. He finds nothing but the rustle of the leaves as you make your quick exit.

“Percy Jackson!” a voice booms from the direction of the woods.

He’s screwed.

iii. i once believed love would be (burnin’ red)

Their team won Capture the Flag.

Percy hadn’t done much, other than get claimed by Poseidon and be used as Clarisse bait. Nonetheless, he was enjoying the celebration feast.

Everyone was in high spirits — especially Chris, who had helped lead the team to victory while Percy was being pummeled by three angry Ares kids.

(Yeah, he was trying to not be too bitter about that.)

A group of campers were cheering on Annabeth for her plan that lead them to the big win. (Definitely not still bitter.) The comradery amongst their team was high, and even those that lost didn’t seem too angry about it.

Except for Clarisse and her cronies, of course. They were sitting in a corner, sending him furious looks every once in a while.

Percy made a mental note to ask someone about putting a deadbolt on his cabin door.

The other Ares kids didn’t seem to mind though, wearing any new battle wounds with pride. Percy could see you across the dining pavilion, talking with one of the boys from another cabin.

Luke did not look too happy about that.

Percy had thought he would be soaking up every glorious moment of the dinner, as he was the one who secured the flag for their team. But he had done nothing much other than sulk and push his food around with his fork.

“Who’s that?” Percy asks, once he notices where his angry glare is directed.

Luke is distracted when he responds. “Oh, uh.” He rubs the back of his neck. “That’s Max. Cabin 9. Hephaestus kid.”

Chris laughs as he takes his seat next to Luke, finally hungry after all of his celebrating. “He’s been trying to ask her out for a while now.”

“And he needs to take a hint.” Luke scoffs. “She clearly doesn’t like him.”

The two of you are sharing an orange. Max breaks off pieces for you to have, and Percy watches as you laugh at something he says, covering your smile with the palm of your hand.

The three of them are silent.

Percy’s head tilts. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Luke says, his tone steely. “She’s my… She’s my best friend. If she liked Max, she would’ve told me.”

The three of them watch as the boy stands up and you follow suit. Max tosses the rest of the orange into the fire as an offering, and the two of you head away from the celebration.

Percy gives Luke a side glance. If he had eaten anything, it probably would’ve been emptied up onto the table right now.

Luke shakes the table with the force he uses to stand up. “I’ll be back.”

His plate is left abandoned, and Chris snorts at his speedy departure. Luke’s practically jogging across the pavilion to reach you before you get too far. That old goofy cartoon running sound effect plays in Percy’s head as he does.

The boy closes the distance in record timing, stopping you and Max before you can make your way up a small hill just outside of the pavilion.

Luke must be a great liar, or just really convincing, because after a few words from him and an extended hand, you’re back at his side. You say a few parting words to Max before the two of you turn your backs on him and head back in the direction of the feast.

Unfortunately, it seems like Max is significantly unhappy with that.

He looks a little more than angry when he says something that has you and Luke whipping your heads around.

Whatever he said must not have been nice, because the next second, Luke is advancing in his direction, and the other boy is meeting him in the middle.

The small argument is beginning to attract the attention of the campers on the outskirts of the feast, with a few mixed reactions. Some look like they’re ready to jump into a brawl if need be, and others watch the argument play out, unashamed.

Percy grimaces. “Are they… okay?”

Chris gets up wordlessly to head in the direction of his friend, and Percy trails after him with not much else to do. Other campers join them, forming a bit of a crowd around the three of you.

Your voice sounds biting as you say something to the both of them, and while it seems like Max isn’t angry at you, it looks like he still spits out a snarky comment directed at Luke, if the smirk on his face says anything.

And that’s all it takes. Luke rears his arm back and strikes Max right across the face.

Something that sounds like a mix between a gasp and an “Ooh!” ripples through the crowd as he stumbles back.

That’s gotta sting, Percy thinks as Max steadies himself on shaky legs. The boy looks completely dazed from the single blow. If that’s what Luke can do with a single punch… Percy hopes he never gets on his bad side.

You shove Luke’s shoulder and say something to him, starting another disagreement between the two of you. But now steady on his feet, Max seemingly takes advantage of him being distracted and takes his own shot at Luke’s face. Percy sucks in air through his teeth as he rubs his jaw.

Luke’s on him in a second, wrestling him to the ground as he moves to probably hit him again. But you and one of the older campers rush forward to drag him off of Max just as Chiron’s booming voice sounds from the other end of the clearing.

The crowd scatters like a flock of birds. Chris drags Percy by the back of his shirt collar away from the scene, leaving you, Luke, and Max alone.

Everyone disperses back to their cabins, whispering about the events all the way up until the lights go out.

Alone in the Poseidon cabin, Percy doesn’t see the way Luke enters his own a few hours later, his knuckles sore but his heart aching.

iv. but its golden

You don’t look in Luke’s direction during Percy’s selection ceremony.

Once he’s selected Annabeth and Grover, you give him a genuine smile and squeeze his shoulder before walking away as fast as you can.

Luke calls after you, but you ignore him. The other twenty demigods at the ceremony look away in what’s probably second hand embarrassment.

Percy doesn’t see you again until much later. After knocking on his cabin door, you put a wad of cash into his hands.

“What’s this for?”

“Emergency cash,” you explain as he rifles through it. The stack is heavy. “I know Chiron gave you two hundred, but you never know. Use it only for emergencies, alright?”

“This is nearly two hundred dollars,” Percy says, shocked. “Where’d you get this from?”

“Summer job.”

“I can’t—”

“Annabeth already refused to take it from me,” you protest. “I thought you were my best bet.”

“This is a lot of money.” Percy doesn’t think he’s even held this much cash before.

“I know,” you say, before closing his fist around the money again. “But I know I could’ve really used this money on my first quest. So I’m giving it to you for yours.”

Percy was getting the impression that you weren’t going to leave his cabin with this money in your hand.

“Thanks,” he acquiesces with a smile. “Only for emergencies.”

“Only for emergencies,” you confirm, squeezing his shoulder.

“Were you nervous for your first quest?” he asks, tucking the cash into the inner pocket of his jacket.

You shake your head without an ounce of hesitation. “No. But it’s normal to be nervous, if you are.”

Percy thinks about his Mom, all alone in the Underworld. He was doing all of this for her. He was a little more than nervous.

“How were you not worried? Like at all?”

You shrug, picking at a loose thread on your hoodie. “I was with Luke. I didn’t really have anything to be worried about.”

Percy thinks about Annabeth and Grover. Could he rely on them? The Oracle’s words weigh heavy on his shoulders. Percy wished that he had someone he could count on like the way you relied on Luke.

“Are you mad at him?”

“Who said I’m mad at Luke?” You tilt your head in question.

“You ignored him in front of everyone earlier. It was kinda hard to watch.”

You look away, smiling. “Well, he was kind of being stupid last night. I’m not mad, I just needed to cool down.”

There’s shuffling in the doorway, and you don’t have to turn around to know who it is.

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” you mumble under your breath. Luke’s holding an old box in his hands, staring straight at the back of your head.

You give Percy one last reassuring smile. “Good luck, Percy. And I know you and Annabeth aren’t all that close, but she’s a good kid. You can count on her.”

“She’s a good kid.” Luke repeats from behind you.

You turn to face him, your gaze assessing, and Luke’s eyes widen in what Percy thinks is slight fear. But it’s like his entire body relaxes when you move forward to flick his shoulder.

“Thank you for your great input, Luke Castellan,” you tease, leaving a quick kiss on the bruise on his lower jaw.

His eyes blow wide with surprise. “Yeah,” he stammers. “Yeah.”

“See you later, hero.”

The door swings shut behind you.

Luke stares blankly for a good ten seconds before Percy speaks.

“So…” he starts. “What’s in the box?”

“Yeah, uh,” Luke repeats, dazed. “It’s a, uh. A gift.”

Percy presses his lips together, slightly miffed.

It’s obvious to him how the two of you feel about each other. He just wonders if either of you will ever figure that out yourselves.

a/n. evil boys i love u. if i ever write more luke fic itll be through one of their povs so their interactions are less restrained!! lmk if u enjoyed theyre my sillies