#Gathering the courage to say hi but being so scared of being known

[lemonynuggets]

suddenly got very emotional over nice anon asks. You said something that made me happy. You were very polite and told me you think I’m cool. You said you wanted to be friends. I’ll never know who you are.

[novasintheroom]

Ghost who, under “orders” from his army therapist (and with Price’s encouragement), starts looking around for hobbies when he’s on leave.

Not sure what to do at first. Tries gaming but gets bored of it and the PS4 stays gathering dust in his flat. Plants don’t appeal to him because he won’t be around enough to take care of them. Thinks about knitting, but is a bit too embarrassed to walk into the local craft shop to start making doilies.

Finally goes to the library after seeing a flyer advertising a painting class and thinks, “Hell, why not.”

Shows up in his hoodie, black face mask, and black baseball cap. Gives most of the old ladies attending the painting session a good scare

Until he rolls up his sleeves to avoid getting paint on his good hoodie. Then those old ladies are ogling his forearms and the tattoos painting his skin.

Is very attentive to the hired artist leading the session. Hasn’t got an artistic bone in his body, but dammit, he’s going to report back to his therapist that he tried if it’s the last thing he does.

Two little old ladies, Mrs. Levine and Ruby, pluck up the courage to sit beside him and start chatting him up. Compliments his painting, talk about their grandkids, how one of Ruby’s grandsons is into heavy metal (assuming Ghost is as well). Ghost listens half-heartedly, just trying to get the brown right for the deer he’s putting on paper. They manage to weasel out his name:

“Simon,” he announces gruffly.

“Oh, what a good name,” Mrs. Levine says.

He goes to the next activity as well: polymer clay creations. His hands are big and meaty and he has to take more clay than is probably reasonable to make the little pig he’s got going.

Mrs. Levine and Ruby are there too and sit right next to him to chat with him again. They love his idea of a pig and make a cow and sheep to go with it. When the hired artist comes around to see how everyone’s doing, Mrs. Levine announces that the three of them “have a little farm going” and that “Simon’s the farmhand.”

He's glad he's got his face mask on. He can feel his ears going red at the look the artist gives him.

Again, he’s very attentive to the hired artist, watching her hands carve into the soft clay with her nails to get texture on her dinosaur. He tries to do the same, giving whispy little hairs to his pig. It’s not pretty, but he feels a smidge better about going when it’s all done.

Mrs. Levine and Ruby get more information out of him as time goes on and he attends more activities. Soon their friends join in on the conversation, and Ghost – Simon – is well-known at the library for being the military guy who attends every Saturday when he’s not deployed. The little old ladies love him, even if he “doesn’t say much.” He’s helped them carry their bags of books and crafts to their cars, listens to them prattle on about activities and their aches and pains, and even scared off some hooligans who were trying to disrupt their library activity.

(They’ve all got little old lady crushes on this big man who takes time out of his day to better himself, and they love his dry/dad jokey humor)

(And he won't admit it, but these are his little old ladies now. Clarice brought him brownies that he absolutely devoured when he got back to his flat they were so good, and he can't help but laugh at how often they try to set him up with their granddaughters. And how they "trip" often just to hang on to his big arms. Birds are birds, no matter their age.)

[gublerryswift]

All these little things pt.1 | Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

fluff <3 The little actions that made Spencer fall in love with you

Warnings: None!

Content: Reader helping Spencer with migraine, friends to lovers but not yet

You joined the team only one year after Spencer, you and him were the youngest on the team and ended up growing really close over time. You two not only bonded over being the same age and sharing experiences, but both of you we're also the biggest nerds to ever walk on the face of the earth. 

It all started when Spencer came to work with a ‘doctor who’ mug that was shaped like TARDIS, it immediately caught your eye, as you were a fan of the show for a really long time and, it only being your third week on the job, you were really looking for a reason to become friends with the team. 

“Spencer, is that a doctor who mug?” You say, approaching his desk and leaning against it to face him 

“Yeah, are you a fan?” He says, looking up at you 

“Of course! I've been watching it since I was a child, i'm obsessed with it. Actually, i am going to need the name of the place where you bought that mug” You smile as you remember the afternoons spent in your childhood home, watching doctor who and eating a mountain of chocolate 

Spencer smiles at you, happy to have someone who shared the same interests as him, maybe, he thought to himself, he would finally have someone to listen to his nerdy rants. 

A month later, you two were already acting as if you've known each other for your entire lives, discovering other shared interests, similar humor and life experiences, you two were perfect for each other. You had gotten close to the rest of the team, but what you and Spencer had was something else, and everybody noticed. 

“Hey, do you want to marathon some documentaries with me? I've been meaning to watch them, but I would love some companion” Spencer says to you, as you both got ready to leave the bullpen 

You're caught by surprise by his invite, you've been meaning to invite him but never gathered the courage to do so, scared that your friendship wasn't at that point yet, you were glad he had asked. 

“Yeah, of course” You smile at him, “What are they about though?” 

His face lit up at the question, clearly excited to tell you about them, you loved how passionate he was about his interests, and you loved to be the one who heard all his rants. 

“Alright, so there's this one, which I think you'll love, that is about the history of music and music genres” 

“Oh, I will love that. Let's go?” You say, holding onto his arm as you two walk to the elevator 

“Ohh and there's also this one about unknown facts of the French Revolution, it's in French and might not have subtitles yet, but I can whisper the translation for you while we watch” 

“Sounds fun, Spence” You giggle at his enthusiasm as you two head to his house 

You two spent the whole night watching the docs and then talked until late at night, he didn't let you grab a taxi that late, so you ended up sleeping at his couch (after arguing a lot, because he wanted to leave his bed for you).  The next morning, he woke up early to make you coffee and breakfast. You spent the rest of the morning together, laughing and talking about random topics. For you that was it, he was now your best friend, and you knew he saw you as such too. 

Now, 5 years later you and Spencer are the closest you've ever been, the sleepovers at each other's houses are basically routine, you two will go on road trips when off of work, share hotel rooms while away on cases, do everything together. With time, both of you started blurring the lines between friendship and something else. It was clear to everyone else that you two felt something for each other, it was even clear to both of you, but neither would ever risk confessing. 

Until, Spencer started noticing these things, little things that you did, and they made him fall so deeply in love with you. Then, there was the moment he knew he had t have you. 

He had been complaining to you about his migraines, the next day you appeared with two drinks in your hand and a bag full of stuff 

“Good morning to you” He told you, smiling at you as you put all the stuff you were holding on his desk

“Good morning spence, I spent like, 3 hours searching stuff to ease migraines and I might have the solution to your problems” You say, pulling out all the things you bought him. 

“You didn't have to do that” 

“Of course I had, you're my best friend and there's no way I'm letting that beautiful brain of yours keep hurting” You smile at him, you really hated to see him in pain, and you knew that migraines had a big effect on his mental health, he always seemed more irritable and sad when he had those. “Alright so, according to my researches' caffeine can help, so this is a black coffee, with very little sugar which I know you hate, but it's for your health so drink it” You hand him the coffee and watch him take a sip and make a frown

“Alright doctor, what else” He's laughing at your serious tone that really makes you sound like you're his doctor, but also his heart couldn't help but flutter at how much thought you had put into helping him get better, how much you cared about him 

“The article also said ginger helps, so I made you ginger tea, which has sugar so that's a win for you, and also a sleep mask because they said that dark helps. Also, you need to start sleeping earlier, you can't keep going to sleep at 4 a.m and expect to be fine” You finished helping – and lecturing – him, with a smile on your face, Spencer tended to close himself off to being helped and taken care of, and you knew how hard that could be so you were happy to help him. 

“Thank you honey” He says, smiling at you 

“You're very welcome spence” You smile back at him and start making way to your way to your desk “... oh, I forgot” you say turning in your heels “Get up” 

“What, why?” His face is confused as he gets up from his seat 

“For this” You hug him deeply, not letting go until a couple seconds have passed “my grandma always says love heals everything”, Spencer's face softens, and he hugs you back. 

He pulls away, still smiling, and says “Thank you”. You both hug again before separating. 

This was it, there was no way he could hide it anymore. Even if it ruined everything, he had to tell you how much he loved you. 

For the rest of the day, Spencer did what you told him to do, even clocking out earlier to try and sleep better. But, throughout the whole day all he could think about was how much you cared for him, how you inadvertently told him you loved him. The next day, his migraine really had gotten better, and he would choose to believe it was you who made it all better and not the ibuprofen he had taken before sleeping. 

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"LET ME DO THE SAME FOR YOU"

Remember when I tell you that I was going to write a fic with Sergei and a worker from the prison he was kept in? Well HERE IT IS

I hope you like it!

Being the only woman guard in a Russian prison was not an easy task.

Elizaveta had to endure the most twisted and disgusting insinuations almost daily from those who were supposedly her colleagues.

As every day, she went to the dining room and knocked softly on the kitchen door.

-Prisoner 2405's food - she asked as every day -

She took the tray in her hands and went to his cell.

The rest of the guards could say what they wanted about her, but what could not be denied (and was in plain sight) was that she was the only one with the balls to set foot in the cell of the one they called the Hunter.

The prisoners did not believe it was him, and to be honest, neither did she. The Hunter was a myth, a legend, a horror story that was passed down from father to son.

That is why, the day they caught him, there was a big fuss in the prison.

The first day the supposed hunter spent in prison he was not given food. Not for nothing, but because everyone was too scared to step forward and say “I’ll do it.”

So that’s exactly what Elizaveta did.

From that day on, she was the one who brought him his meals and dinners, and occasionally ink to write with.

She didn’t know what he wrote with or what, but when she told her boss, he gave it to her and ordered her to give him whatever he asked for.

They were afraid of him

It was well known by everyone that if you lock an animal in a cage, sooner or later it would end up breaking the bars, no matter what the cost.

When she arrived in front of his door, she knocked on it with the toe of her foot, announcing her arrival.

He opened the gap for her to pass him the tray and, as every day, she did. She had never seen him in person, but if the rumors were true, he had a pair of aggressive red eyes and claws so long they could cut your throat from twenty meters away.

She closed the gate and when she turned to leave, she heard his voice. She had never heard him speak. It was a deep, husky, masculine voice that made her tense from head to toe.

"Please stay," he murmured from behind the sturdy gate.

"Why?" she gathered the courage to ask, but he remained silent for a few moments.

"I would like to meet the girl who has kept me alive," she said, making a noise with the plate she had given him.

"How do you know I am a girl?" –she asked, trying to make her voice hoarse- it could be a man

-You're not–he said, very sure- your smell –he whispered- you always wear that strawberry-scented perfume –he answered- you've asked yourself several times if the smell lasts all day, even though you put it on very early in the morning before coming to work –he said, leaving her breathless due to the truth of his words- the answer is yes, it lasts all day and all night –he added, his voice lowered three octaves- come on, let me meet you dorogoy (honey) –she couldn't see him, but somehow she knew he was smiling- I won't bite you, I promise

Seized by curiosity and halfway between excited and angry, she grabbed her walkie-talkie and pressed the button on the communicator.

-Open the sixty –she ordered the man who was in the control room-

The door opened with a creak. She pushed inside, not knowing what she was going to find.

When she saw him, she could tell that gossip had nothing to do with reality.

The man in front of her was robust, with dark brown hair disheveled on both sides of his head. His eyes were light blue, like a cloudless sky. They looked at each other for a moment, she considered leaving at that moment, but now there was no turning back.

Not when she was looking at him like that.

-Sit down - he asked, gesturing towards the chair in front of the bed where he was - forgive the mess, I wasn't expecting visitors

Elizaveta tried not to laugh, but she couldn't help the amused smile that appeared on her lips. He took a bite of the crust of bread on his plate, while he watched her.

-I have to ask you something - she murmured, testing the ground -

He nodded as he brought a spoonful of rice to his mouth.

-Shoot - he said, waiting for her question -

-Are you really the hunter?

-I am -he murmured firmly, putting the plate aside- just like you are the only woman guard in this prison

-How do you know that?

-I know many things, malen'kiy (little one) -he smiled, running a hand through his hair, she looked away at the fang he wore around his neck- just like I know you want -he shook his head- no, you NEED my help

-It's not true

-Yes it is -he insisted, pointing at her with his head- I see it in your eyes

-What?

-The rage, the hatred, the desperation -he added in a lower voice- you want me to help you finish off all those who have ever said or done something to harm you -he shrugged- you would just have to let me out -he said- I would fix your problem quickly

-You're wrong, hunter -she murmured, staring at him steadily- I'm not here because I'm not here because I need your help

-No? –he asked and the way he said it made her feel like a frightened fawn at the mercy of a lion- And why are you here?

-To bring you food, like I do every day

-You lie

-Do you read minds now too?

-Your pulse –he said calmly- quickens when you lie –he whispered- Don't try to fool me again, prekrasnyy (beautiful) because I will know

-Okay –he took a few deep breaths- I want you to help me with those men –he admitted at last- I will open this door, and you will do it for me, right?

-Right

-That easy?

-Why should it be difficult? –he questioned- I have killed elephants, buffalos and leopards with my own hands –he said- several angry men with a pair of AK-47s will not stop me –he got up from the bed, which made her see him in all his length-

He was huge and threatening. Every movement exuded confidence and integrity. He looked at the door for a moment before looking at her again.

-Lock it –he ordered- do it well so that no one can enter –he said looking at her firmly- I will come back for you

-Why are you doing this? –she wanted to know, he fixed his blue eyes, which now shone an amber color, and answered:

-You saved my life a long time ago –he reminded her- let me do the same for you

[albaskies]

And if I didn't know better

Or: One evening, Ginny reflects on her choice to step up for Teddy, while trying to navigate her grief for the loss of those who never could. Also on AO3:

She isn’t quite so sure what made her decide to step up for a child when she was hardly an adult herself. Not that she’d done much at first - she’d barely ever been there during the first year of his life, and she’d only gathered the courage to rock him to sleep a few months after she’d moved back home. It was more of a feeling, as if she’d accepted the responsibility deep in her heart before she could even trust her own limbs to hold him properly. 

It feels like a lifetime away, now, as his little body is curled up against hers and his turquoise hair shines in the dim candlelight. They lay on several cushions and blankets scattered on the floor; an old white sheet stuck on four chairs hanging on top of their heads, covering the ceiling. They’ve built a fort, you know. Right after playing dragons and running around on invisible broomsticks (‘Feet on the ground, Teddy, please’). All in their living room, all after having dinner. 

Harry’s sent word that he’ll be home late - problems at the office. He sounded very disappointed to miss out on having Teddy over for the night, one of his favourite weekly activities. He usually sleeps over on Fridays, but they might have to switch it to Saturdays if Harry keeps on getting held back at work.

Ginny is seriously doubting that her strategy to try and wear Teddy out before bedtime has been effective, as Teddy’s eyes are still wide open and shimmering with energy. The cup of warm milk she’s offered him hasn’t quite done the trick, now left unfinished and forgotten on the floor right next to him. But then again, Teddy’s undergoing that toddler phase where nothing in the world can get him to wind down unless he decides to, thank you very much. How did Hermione call him? A threenager? Where did she even hear such a ridiculous thing?

She looks down at him again, as he has started to move his tiny hands and notice the corresponding shadow movements reflected on the sheet. His expression is full of wonder, not a care in the world, and she’s so grateful for the look in his eyes (and, yes, for the rare moment of quiet as well) that she feels her heart could explode.

‘Look, Teddy,’ she says, joining her thumbs and wiggling the rest of her fingers. ‘Isn’t that an eagle? Oh my, how did it get here?’.

Teddy squeals with laughter, unable to contain his excitement - the sweetest sound in the world.

‘Again, Ginny, again!’.

She regrets it, to have hesitated back then. It’s not that she didn’t care for him when he was a baby - quite the contrary, actually. She’d known she loved him so much since before he was even born; that one Christmas morning when Tonks had grabbed her hand and had gently placed her on her pregnant tummy.  But she was scared, terrified of messing it all up, of not being good enough. She still is sometimes - she’s just learned to cope with it better, or maybe to hide it better. She reckons that nobody really knows how to deal with a child from the beginning, especially when it’s not their own; and they are all a bit broken now anyway. But it doesn’t really matter, does it, as long as they’re there for each other, as long as Friday nights are still about dragons, invisible broomsticks and animal shadows on a fort sheet ceiling.

.

Harry had dived into the role with all his seriousness and solemnity because, well, what else do you expect. He’d tried so hard to get Teddy to like him from the start, as if there could ever be the risk that he wouldn’t. He’d show up to Andromeda’s house bearing so many gifts that she’d had to beg him to stop once and for all, for the love of Merlin. 

‘I just want to do something nice for him, you know,’ he’d told Ginny later, his brows furrowed and his glare focused on his tea mug.

‘But you already do,’ she’d said, her hand gently squeezing his thigh. ‘You’re there for him. That’s as nice as it gets.’

She could tell she hadn’t fully convinced him, just as she knew that he hadn’t been exactly truthful either. He wanted to do something nice for Teddy, sure, stepping in those daunting godfather shoes as smoothly as possible. But he wanted to do something nice for himself too, for his much younger self, trying to give away all the love and attention he’d been missing all his life. And she couldn’t really blame him for that, now, could she.

‘Gin,’ he’d murmured, his whisper almost pleading. ‘I don’t think I know what I’m doing.’

She’d moved her hand from his leg to his jaw, resisting the urge to cut him off with sarcasm, ‘Have you ever, though.’

‘Nobody asks that of you right now, Harry. You’ll figure it out.’

He looks at her, still unconvinced. ‘But Tonks and Lupin -’

‘No,’ she’d shushed him, gently pressing a finger on his lips. ‘Not even them.’

That’s the thing - nobody had asked her to, either. And it’s not that she’d felt compelled to act as an unofficial godmother only because of her relationship with Harry. He’d certainly never expected that of her. 

She’d felt hurt when her mum had implied that once. As if that ring that Harry had placed on her finger dictated all of her choices, as if she had to have a reason to desire to care for Teddy. As if she hadn’t known Tonks and Lupin, too. 

No, Teddy's become part of her life because of a very careful and important choice she’s made. It has been so incredibly natural, and it has required quite some effort, both at the same time. But it’s always been there, no matter what. 

There hasn’t been a single Quidditch match she’s played without looking for him and Harry in the stands; there hasn’t been a single house she and Harry have looked at without thinking about what room could become his for when he stays over. There hasn’t been a single time she hasn’t thought of him when looking at the clear blue sky.

.

‘And what about this?’, she asks him, still twisting her hands to give life to dark shapes on the sheet.

Teddy lets out a sweet chuckle. ‘A rabbit!’.

‘Good job, Teddy!’’ 

He claps his hands in excitement and his hair seems to have become an even brighter shade of blue.

‘More, more!’

‘Let’s see. What about…’ Ginny says, continuing to move her fingers. ‘This?’

He seems to think about it for a second, squeezing his eyes, wrinkling his nose. Then he beams.

‘A wolf!’

A beat.

‘Er - no, it’s a dog -’

‘No, it’s a wolf!’

‘Teddy -’

And before she knows it, he starts howling. 

‘Wolves aren’t scary, Ginny! You shouldn’t be scared!’

She looks at him in horror. Total panic. Her mind blacked out. That’s the one thing she hasn’t brought herself to do with Teddy yet - talking about his parents. Or even mentioning them, to be frank. She’s quite selfishly left that to Harry, because what does she know about this stuff, he’s a child, she doesn’t want to mess it up for him. She’s quite sure that she would, if she tried. She can’t even think straight after he’s seen the shadow of a wolf rather than a dog, after all. What a stupid way to react to a child acting his age, playing and having fun. Stop this. Don’t be a git, please stop this.

It’s almost as if Lupin and Tonks never enter the bubble that she creates when she’s with Teddy - which is absurd, nonsensical, completely idiotic. But,  well - her insides knotting in guilt at the mere thought - it’s easier this way. She feels ashamed of herself, absolutely fucking revolted. Now that he’s inadvertently brought it up though, a three-year-old braver than she’ll ever be, and he’s opened Pandora’s box (some famous Greek witch, she reckons), she's at a loss for words. It’s so subtle that she should just let it slide - she must, actually. He hasn’t even asked her anything, he hasn’t even made the connection. He doesn’t even know. 

Her mind is racing out of control and he hasn’t even done it on purpose. She’s the one who’s acting like a lunatic. She doesn’t know why she feels like she should say something, doesn’t even know what, because it would all sound wrong anyway.

You know, Teddy, she almost hears herself saying, but you know, Teddy, what exactly? Why can’t she get this thought out of her head? He’s blissfully unaware, and he’s just a child that is playfully pretending to be a wolf, what the hell wrong with you, Ginny, pull yourself together. 

She continues spiralling as she notices that he’s stopped howling, and is now observing her with curiosity. 

Fuck, you’re going to traumatise him, aren’t you. 

As she looks at him more closely, she notices that his eyes, that have been blue like his hair for months now, have now turned darker - a warm, chocolaty brown. And instead of feeling even more horrified, she simply calms down, her panic gone.

Funny how Lupin can offer her comfort even in death.

.

She is staring at the empty desk in front of her. The bell has rung and all her classmates have left already, but somehow she can’t bring herself to get out of the classroom and head to lunch. Not yet, because she is staring at the empty desk in front of her so intensely, almost as if she could get it to talk to her. She remembers sitting there, less than a year ago, just before her memory had gone blank into one of her many blackouts. She remembers opening her diary on her lap, bored to death at the sound of Professor Lockhart’s pompous voice, she remembers jotting down a few thoughts pretending to be taking notes. Then she remembers a voice, his voice, and nothing more. Maybe if she stares at the desks hard enough, it will come back to her, maybe she will remember how she got from the classroom to Hagrid’s shed and then back to the castle again… 

‘What are you still doing here, Ginny?’.

She blinks once, and then once again, trying to bring Professor Lupin’s greyish frame into focus. She isn’t sure since when he’s been sitting on the chair in front of her.

‘Are you looking for something?’, he asks, watching her carefully. She must look rather lost, because he quickly adds: ‘You did well in class, today.’

‘I - er, no - I mean, thanks,’ she blurts out. His dark brown eyes are still focused on her, studying her in detail.

She clears her throat, as if to gather her courage. There is something she’s been wanting to ask him, actually, but she isn’t even sure that she should bring it up. Percy has made it clear that she shouldn’t talk about it with anybody, but Percy doesn’t really understand what it feels like, doesn’t it? To lose control, to not know.

‘I suppose you were wondering what happened on the train a few days ago?’, says Professor Lupin bluntly, as if it’s the most obvious thing on the planet.

‘How do you -?’

‘You wouldn’t be the first to ask.’

As she observes him a little more closely than ever before, she realises he must be much younger than he looks. He has a few grey locks of hair here and there, his face is tired and emaciated, but he doesn’t have wrinkles around his eyes and mouth like her dad. 

He smiles, encouragingly. She clears her throat again. 

‘My brother Percy’s told me about the Dementors,’ she mutters, her glare back on the desk. ‘I know they make people feel bad. It’s just -’.

She suddenly hears it again, that low, yet so familiar voice, telling her she should not be frightened. Then flashes of light, blood, screams, and her clothes are unexplainably damp. 

She shivers, subtly patting her robes. She’s fine. She’s fine.

‘I did some things last year,’ she hears herself say. She doesn’t even know how she’s managed to gather enough strength to.

‘I just fear - well, I guess I worry that the Dementors will make me do them again.’

Professor Lupin falls silent for a few seconds. He continues to watch her, but has now stopped smiling.

‘From what I’ve heard, you haven’t chosen to do any of those things.’

He’s heard, then. She doesn’t wonder why - she reckons stories must travel fast among Hogwarts staff, too.

She would normally be ashamed, but now she can’t help but feel a hint of relief, stemming from Merlin knows where. After all, yes, he’s heard, but he’s still talking to her like she isn’t any different; he’s heard, and he’s still offered her chocolate. 

‘Don’t worry, Ginny, Dementors can’t make you reenact your bad memories. They surely make you relive them, though,’ he furrows his brows, as if an unexpected thought has suddenly crossed his mind. ‘Do you - er - have enough support here?’

She’s taken aback by this question, shame creeping on her cheeks. ‘I’ve got four brothers here,’ she quickly responds, but she knows that this isn’t what he means. She sighs. He seems to understand.

‘I’m working on it,’ she sputters, defensively. ‘It’s not exactly easy to make friends when all the girls in your dormitory think you’re a freak.’

It comes out spontaneously, but she immediately regrets using that tone with a professor. However, to her great surprise, he bursts into laughter.

‘I guess you’re right,’ he says, throwing her an enigmatic look. ‘But believe me when I say that friends are the most precious gift that Hogwarts can give you. Real friends will help you overcome all the hard times; and if they think you’re a freak, well, they’ll choose to be freaky with you.’

He stops smiling, suddenly looking rather thoughtful, but then quickly shakes his head. Somehow, she ends up with the strange feeling that he’s no longer having this conversation only with her.

‘Might I suggest,’ he adds, now back to his reassuring tone. ‘That you perhaps try to talk to other students that might have had - how to put this - a similar experience to yours? Harry’s a good friend of your brother’s, isn’t he?’

She feels it coming - the blush. One of the big ones. One of the bad ones.

‘No! I don’t think -’, she hisses, suddenly horrified, redder than she’s ever been in her life. ‘I don’t think that would work.’

He raises his eyebrows, the corners of his mouth slightly twitching.

‘Well, you never know,’ he states matter-of-factly. He then stands up, patting his hands on his legs. ‘But now I must really let you go. I wouldn’t want you to feel unwell during your next class because you haven’t had any lunch.’

She nods, grabs her things, mutters an awkward ‘Thanks’. Just when she’s about to leave, she hears him speak again.

‘It may be hard to understand now, but what happened to you doesn’t define you. Please, don’t ever forget that.’

It’s true, she doesn’t understand that quite just yet, but she will remember those words for the rest of her life.

For now, she’s busy spending the next few days ridiculously terrified by the thought of Professor Lupin telling Harry about their conversation. She imagines Harry looking at her with pity, disgust even, as a stupid little girl who can’t bring herself to make some friends. But this doesn’t happen - Harry barely ever looks at her, and when he does he seems, well, normal. She’s quite glad of that, for one. She’s also so incredibly glad that Professor Lupin respected her enough to keep her secret, that he could be trusted.

Years later, she’ll regret never having told him that she and Harry had fallen in love. She’ll reckon he would’ve liked to know that, he might have even been delighted. She’ll figure, as a punch in her stomach, that she’d assumed they’d have more time.

.

‘You know what, Teddy, you’re right,’ she finally says, gently stroking his hair. ‘Wolves aren’t scary.’

He beams, looking rather satisfied with her answer, and pulls up his back to sit against a big pillow.

‘Let’s play another game!’

Ginny sighs at his never ending source of energy; her hopes that relaxing under the fort would somehow make him drowsy are completely shattered. She quickly glances at the clock on the wall - if Andromeda finds out that Teddy's been up so late, she’ll never hear the end of it.

‘Time out, Teddy,’ she says, faking a yawn. ‘We should really go to bed now.’

Teddy frowns, pouting his lips and wrinkling his little nose.

‘What if we read the story of Babbity Rabbity?’, she then intervenes tentatively, hoping to jump in just in time to prevent a tantrum. ‘Come on, you love Babbity Rabbity…’

But Teddy isn’t having it. He shakes his head fervently, now crossing his arms.

Ginny wonders if this is the time to be a bit more assertive with him, if she could dare, even. Sometimes she feels like she’s still tiptoeing around him - she’s the one giving him all the fun and games, but when it comes to discipline, she finds that she’s quite rattled. He’s not her child, after all; she fears it’s not her place. Most of the time, she finds herself wondering how Lupin would deal with his son’s tantrums; she would love to see what Tonks would do. She reckons she would do anything to learn a bit more about parenthood from them both, even though (and to only remotely fathom this, her heart sinks) they haven’t had the chance to be parents for long. They would’ve been brilliant at it, though - this is merely her fantasy, sure, as she actually doesn’t know. Tonks and Lupin will remain fundamentally pure in her memory, because she doesn’t like to remember their flaws, especially not in relation to Teddy, and it won’t do any good to anyone, anyway.

‘Why don’t you finish up your milk first?’, she tries again, pointing at the abandoned mug on the floor. With a flick of her wand, she mildly warms it up again. 

He nods enthusiastically, but something goes wrong when he grabs the mug and he spills all the remaining milk all over himself and the blanket. He immediately looks up at her, his eyes filled with remorse and anticipation, almost as if he’s realised he’s gone a step too far. Ginny is aware that Teddy’s clumsy to the point of exasperating his grandmother, and that he might even expect a scolding for his little distraction, but she feels a sudden rush of affection towards him instead.

‘All right,’ she says, standing up and taking him in her arms. ‘Time for another bath.’

She could easily scurgify and dry up his pyjamas, but she remembers how good it would feel when her mum would bathe her and then wrap her in a warm towel, always offering her snuggles and kisses along the process. She repeats the same ritual with Teddy, even playing with some dragon and quaffle toys in the water with him, just as her mum used to - only that the toys, at the time, were old and faded, sometimes missing a paw or an eye. 

She wraps him in the softest towel she can find, swings him in her arms while dancing across the hallway to reach her bedroom, and pretends to drop him on her bed. He laughs so hysterically and uncontrollably that his hair becomes curly. Her heart couldn’t be any more full.

She retrieves his pyjamas bottoms with a quick ‘Accio’ and helps him wear them, but decides to leave his milk-stained t-shirt on the bathroom floor. She ransacks first Harry’s, and then her own clothes drawer in search of something clean for Teddy to wear that isn’t the top of Harry’s Auror uniform, a pair of mismatched socks, a bra or some old Christmas jumpers. 

That’s when she sees it, stuck in the back of the drawer - a hint of green. She touches the cotton fabric and seizes it. It still feels soft, despite having been left unworn and forgotten in a drawer for years.

She realises her hands are shaking. She’d never thought she could’ve forgotten.

.

Ginny had never assumed she could smell dust before, but now she’s quite positive she’s been in the wrong all her life. As she sits in the dining room of 12 Grimmauld Place, taking a break from the massive amount of cleaning her mother has decided to subject her to since they’ve moved here (no exceptions, not even today), she feels like every inch of her body is covered with dust. Her hair, her fingers, her nose - to the extent that she thinks she can actually smell it. And it’s not great, considering that the more extensive the efforts they make to clean up the house, the more the house seems to turn out filthier than before.

Today it’s only her and her mother on cleaning duty, though. Everyone else is too preoccupied with what’s going to happen tomorrow - the tense whispering and nervous pacing are becoming almost unbearable. Her mum is worried too, of course, but she reckons that trying to tidy up this wreck of a place is the only way she knows to distract herself at the moment. Ginny is, for one, happy to oblige. She’d never thought she’d say this, but she’d rather dust every single one of those house-elf heads hanging on top of the stairs with a toothbrush rather than giving in to everyone’s anxiety.

Amused by the thought, she gets up to go and do just that, but someone barges loudly in the room from the door behind her back.

‘Wotcher, Ginny,’ says a ringing voice. ‘So, where's the party?’

Ginny smiles at Tonks, who has styled her hair in a bright purple ponytail today. Before she can say anything, Tonks hands her a little parcel, wrapped in crumpled paper that must have once belonged to an issue of the Daily Prophet. She recognises some of the scattered, black-inked words - ‘The Boy Who Lies?’, or: ‘Let’s hope he hasn’t got a scar on his forehead or we’ll be asked to worship him next’, and: ‘Delusional teenager’, ‘Better skilled at seeking attention than golden snitches’,  ‘Expert Circe Bryce confirms that orphaned children often employ cunning strategies to cope with their abandonment complex (more on page 8).’

‘Sorry,’ utters Tonks with an apologetic half-smile. ‘That’s all I could find.’

Ginny shrugs and lets out an unlikely high-pitched cackle. Laughs at the irony of it all. Everything seems to be overflowing with Harry these days, even her birthday presents. 

She rips out the paper, unsure whether she’s more eager to see what’s inside or to get those stupid printed words out of her sight. The first thing that she finds is soft and bright green, an unmistakable green, and she already knows what it is.

‘You didn’t!’, she cries out in complete disbelief. ‘No way!’

‘Heard you’re a big fan.’

Ginny wields a Holyhead Harpies t-shirt in her hands as if it’s a trophy, her most prized possession, and her eyes are sparkling.

‘The design is from 1981, the year you were born, I s’pose,’ continues Tonks with a satisfied look on her face, pointing at the golden print on the front of the t-shirt. It reads Holyhead Harpies in a curly font, never seen before. ‘I thrifted it from a small shop in Diagon Alley. I should take you there some time.’

Ginny nods with excitement, although she’s only listened to half of what Tonks’s said, too busy marvelling at her new t-shirt.

‘Come on now,’ adds Tonks, sounding very amused, pointing at the half-opened parcel. ‘There’s something else in there.’

Ginny opens her eyes wide and immediately dives her hands into the wrapping paper. She finds something thin and folded - when she opens it, it reveals a moving picture of Gwenog Jones darting through the air on her broomstick.

‘She’s a badass, isn’t she,’ comments Tonks. Ginny doesn’t respond right away, too busy mentally scanning the walls of her bedroom back at the Burrow to decide where to hang the picture.

‘Blimey, you’re spoiling me, Tonks,’ she manages to let out after a bit, still holding the t-shirt with one hand and her new poster with the other. She then throws her arms around Tonks’s neck, squeezing her tight. ‘Thank you, so much.’

She doesn’t quite know what she’s done to deserve Tonks’s affection after knowing her for barely over a month. It’s true, they spend most of their days together under the same roof, but they seem to have just instantly connected regardless. Tonks embodies everything that she aspires to be one day, plus she’s bold, unbelievably funny, and doesn’t coddle her. It feels good to be surrounded by women that aren’t her mother for a change - soothing, even. For what may be the first time in her life, this summer she’s truly felt the urge and longing for female companionship - maybe because she’s finally started getting used to it, back at school and here at Grimmauld Place. And now that Hermione’s back to fussing over Harry with her brother, and her mother is too busy running around barking at people, she’s really only got Tonks to rely on. What amazes her is that Tonks doesn’t seem to mind - on the contrary, she appears to be rather thrilled to spend time with her when she can, unbothered by their age gap, almost taking her under her wing. In a time of her life in which she feels left out, a spare, Tonks has chosen to give her some purpose, to make her feel necessary. She doesn’t know why she does it, only that she’ll be eternally grateful for it.

‘Ah, it’s nothing,’ smiles Tonks, gently pulling away from her to give her a pointed look. ‘I’m sorry that we didn’t celebrate you more, though.’ 

She doesn’t need to add more about lingering wars, resistance movements and impending Ministry hearings.

‘What are you talking about,’ says Ginny, brushing those thoughts off quickly. ‘This birthday’s been dashing. Even your cousin’s made me a card.’

That’s quite true, actually. Her mum's baked a cake and everybody (well, except some angsty black-haired teenager, know anyone?) gathered around the table to sing her ‘Happy birthday’ first thing in the morning. Then she's opened her gifts - a jumper from her parents, quite a few boxes of Honeydukes from all her brothers, and the unexpected birthday card from Sirius, with the handmade drawing of a flying hippogriff that waves hello and smirks at her. Hermione's got her a book, unsurprisingly - but that’s frustrated her a little, because she knows she won’t be able to reciprocate on her own birthday, except with a stupid singing card and (if she’s lucky) with a box of chocolates stolen from one of her brothers. 

Tonks chuckles lightly. ‘Has that special boy wished you a happy birthday?’

Ginny shrugs, and just as she’s about to mutter a resentful ‘Barely’, she realises with a pinch of guilt that Tonks is talking about - well, another boy.

‘Michael’s sent me an owl,’ she says, blushing softly. ‘Said he misses me.’

‘Bet he does,’ remarks Tonks, observing her very carefully all of a sudden, as if she wants to read her mind. She waits a few seconds and then, rather out of the blue, she simply adds: ‘Don’t ever settle, all right?’

Ginny frowns, puzzled. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Tonks doesn’t answer, but winks at her, laughing. ‘You’ll understand with time, you’ll see.’

And indeed, she will.

.

Ginny wonders if the small shop in Diagon Alley is still there after the war. She’d like to find it now, pay it a visit, maybe purchase something in Tonks’s honour. They’d never managed to go together, in the end.

She exhales heavily and taps the vintage Holyhead Harpies t-shirt with her wand, shrinking it just enough to fit Teddy perfectly. She reckons he should keep it; she doesn’t seem to have it in her to wear it, anyway.

Teddy falls asleep peacefully wearing that t-shirt and maybe it’s pathetic, maybe it’s irrational, but she can’t help hoping that his mother’s touch will comfort him in his dreams tonight. 

She’s so deep in her thoughts that she doesn’t notice that Harry’s arrived home until he plants a gentle kiss on the back of her head.

‘Tough evening?’, he asks softly, gesturing towards Teddy.

Ginny sighs, leaning her head on his chest. ‘It was fine.’

He seems to understand, though, and decides not to push further. They hold each other in silence for a while, their eyes captured by the little boy snuggled under the blanket and asleep in their bed. Staring at the past and the future, all at once.

[cherriemybaby]

best friends dad! this will probably have two parts or a few extras and i love them!

you and harry spend a night together after a fight with your best friend aka his son!

warnings:smut, oral f to m and m to f, some body issues (talked about deeper in part two)

wc:3000+

you and ben had been bestfriends for as long long as you can remember but that’s it just two close best friends so when he told you he was in love with you.. 30 seconds ago? two hours ago? you weren’t sure all you knew after he muttered out those words you stood staring at him, waiting for that cheeky smile he always supports after telling you a funny joke and then you would both crack up. but that smile never came and his expression never faltered. He just looked at you so.. lovingly? was that it, was he really in love with you and you somehow didn’t see it for the past 6 years.

other friends would joke about it saying how there’s no way you didn’t feel it or apparently didn’t see it when he looked in our direction. but in your eyes you were brother and sister but you know saying that to him would be hurtful and you didn’t want to lose him over this even though you know everything will change once you open your mouth and finally get the courage to respond so instead you stare for a good minute before he breaks the silence

“are you okay.. did i scare you- fuck i shouldn’t have said anything i promised myself i wouldn’t but i just thought maybe you would feel the same i mean you’re always giving me the eyes and telling me how bad the dates you go on are and i just thought it was a hint that you wanted this too”.

ending his rant you look at him a little different this time, he thought you were giving him signs? you were notoriously known for being overly honest, only one or two times did you keep secrets from him. but those things are out of the realm of you two, how do you say “oh yeah i’ve had a huge crush on your dad for the past 6 years and that’s why my dates go horribly” but back to reality you still couldn’t believe what he said

“you thought i.. i mean why would i do that i tell you everything” and yeah maybe that everything was a little over stretched but you couldn’t say that so you stated a broad oversight of what you let him in on.

“i mean yeah maybe i just thought since you’re always looking at me and-“

you huffed “yeah i look at you like i love you because i do, as my best friend as my platonic soulmate i just always thought we shared those feelings and now i just dot know what to do”

the look on his face made everything real he was mad? upset? hurt? all of the emotions and probably ten others

“i can’t believe- they all saw it and i just- whatever y/n honestly whatever i can’t do this right now” he began towards the door of your apartment you wanted to stop him and ask who said what but you just couldn’t bring yourself to move, instead he slammed the door on his way out and you crumbled completely a mess on the floor not knowing what just happened or how you lost the most important person to you.

you sat there for a good amount of time before you hear your phone ding twice and you get a knock at the door, wiping your tears. You stand and look through the peephole in the door, it's harry.

you gasp slightly before grabbing your phone to check the messages which are in fact also harry first asking if you’re okay but second asking if you were home.

your mind is rolling you have no idea why he is here or what he wants, he asked if you were okay but maybe he came by to defend his son? had he seen the “looks” ben convinced had been so obvious, you didn’t know but you knew you had to face the music so you opened the door and were met with harry looking distraught?

“what- what are you doing here, did ben tell you i’m sorry harry i really didn’t know.”

he let you finish before pushing through the door and gathering you in his arms, a bag you now noticed was in his hand, peaking out of the top was light pink daisies, your favorite. “it's not your fault , he started, ben doesn’t know what he was saying i’m do sorry he said that to you and made you feel in the wrong, he called to tell me on his way home from here and i wasn’t thinking i just jumped in the car and made a trader joe’s pit stop”

you pulled away from him slightly to look up at him your brows furrowed, he wasn’t mad, he came over to comfort you? looking into the bag a bit deeper you saw the flowers and your favorite soup dumplings as well as your favorite off brand chips, you looked up at him again now he looks anxious as he awaited your response to it all.

harry you just, why did you do all of this, i guess i was expecting you to come in and give me a lecture about how to treat your son and you just, you brought my favorite things and” he cut you off

“i know how much you love him as a friend and it wasn’t fair of him to say what he did, thankfully he wasn’t in front of me because I would have punched him right there.. i mean he was awful he was so rude saying you’ve been leading him on and i know you, the real true flower loving, soup dumpling loving girl who’s been his biggest cheerleader for years and trust me i know how he feels i would have a crush on you too” he smirks at that while blushing slightly

maybe you’re in a state of shock when you retort, i know how having a crush on one of you always makes me feel special.”

and while maybe this doesn’t feel like a crazy thing to say just hours ago you admitted to one of the styles men that you didn’t have a crush on him so your truth speaks loudly throughout the air making it your turn to blush.

harry doesn't seem scared or shocked by this as he responds “well yeah i mean if we’re telling the truth i’ve always had quite a bit of a crush you”

stepping out of the hold he has kept you in you look down embarrassed by also excited? did he just admit what you’ve kept hidden for so long. at this he gently picks your head up into his palm and swipes his thumb over your lip, it's not much but its enough to make your breath feel heavier. The lust and want in your eyes must be apparent because one more good look at your and he’s leaning down to kiss you. you melt into it as you feel every nerve ending react to him and for the first time in your life you feel the once imaginary fireworks.

he drops the bag on the floor and moves to take off his coat, his mouth never leaving yours, he reaches down to your hips pulling you further into him as he deepens the kiss, squeezing you tight in his grasp the slight pleasurable pain has you gasping allowing him to incorporate his tongue which moves against yours perfectly making you whither which each flick it has in your mouth. you reach your hands out tugging at his shirt, only leaving his mouth astray for a moment before you pounce back onto him jumping up so he could carry you. he walks backwards slightly before pulling away and smiling, “i was thinking i could be sexy like the man in the movies who magically knows where your room is but all i see is you and three closed doors and i believe walking us into the toilet may turn you off a bit” you laugh loudly throwing your head back �� last door on the right “

he nods curtly with a small smile and it's times like these where you remember just how much you like him. every time you would enter his house and he would take your coat and insist you sit immediately, never wanting you to lift a finger while in his company and while nice he sadly raised his son to be the same which made earlier all the more difficult and with this in mind your heart stops.

you can never go back from this, it’s not that you don’t want it, it's that you absolutely do and you know you can never go back, if ben found out i would kill him especially after his recent confessions, but you shake those thoughts away as you look back at harry carrying you to your bedroom and you know when that door opens and all of your fantasies come alive you won’t care about what’s right and wrong just that the man in front of you will make doing all of those bad things feel so right, so much so that you might be convinced it’s all good but definitely not pure.

he pushes the door open and steps in, kissing you again for a moment before sitting on the bed making you straddle him, harry reaches down and grabs the bottom of your shirt to tug it up and over your head leaving you more breathless before and well now shirtless.

he begins kissing down your neck and just like that all of your thoughts of ben and the argument drift away as if it never happened at all.

“harry” you whine out as he continues sucking and kissing all of your pressure points he somehow has found, a low sound, a growl? a moan possibly escapes him

“hearing you moan my name that way is making me crave you more somehow and i know now more than every i don’t want you moaning another mans name ever again” the sudden possessive tone he has turns you on more, reaching down you begin to unbutton his pants before pulling the zipper down in a swift manner.

“get me out baby i wanna see what you look like with your mouth stuffed full”

you audibly whine as you pull him out he’s large to say the least, at least 7 inches with a pretty pink tip that’s already leaking for you. you lean in and put him in your mouth, just the tip at first

“fu-fuck baby, please give me more of your mouth you’re so warm i might not last long” you want to giggle at that because he already looks so fucked out and you wonder how long it’s been for him, but you do as he commands while taking him deeper until your nose is almost touching him.

he whines and gasps, wrapping his hand tightly around your hair before murmuring ‘m gonna fuck your mouth is that okay sweetheart” you hum around him since your ability to do much else has been taken away

he starts off slow, guiding you up and down is cock but before long he’s moving you faster, deeper, so so deep you think it's the best thing you’ve ever felt, you’re getting drenched without stimulation. he groans deeply and you know he’s almost there

he looks down at you, pausing your movements momentarily, “is it alright if i finish in your mouth, i can pull out if you’d like just want you to be comfy”

it would be sweet if his cock wasn’t down your throat, so instead you pull off for a moment looking into his eyes, “yes please wanna taste it” he takes a breath before leaning down to pull you into a kiss

“okay m’gonna finish if you keep talking like that, get back down there and finish what you started” you giggle for a moment leaving one last peck on his lips then slowing sinking down to your spot in between his legs.

taking him back into your mouth, you suck hard wanting his come down your throat, with other guys you never felt this urge and want to see them come undone so deeply but with harry all you want is for him to feel good so you continue sucking and licking him so deep in your throat before he’s finishing for you

“fuck angel please m’righ there right there for you just keep going please” his words turn into a mingle of whining and begging all the way through his orgasm, you pull off when he’s down before sticking your tongue out to show him the mess then bringing it back into your mouth to swallow the rest and sticking it back out to show him just how well you took it all.

he groans at this lifting you back up into your straddling him again “you’re so fucking hot i think i might get hard again” you giggle at that “so proud you baby took me so well, i think you deserve a treat of your own” your heart falters a bit at this, you loved your body.. well it's a temple and it keeps you protected and all of those things but there’s hesitation about someone you’ve waited for seeing you like this, would he be disappointed?

the look on your face must tell the whole story as he grips your face in his hand forcing you to look at him “this is about you okay? i would love to see you and i mean all of you but i’m only going to do what you’re ready for, what you’re comfortable with. how bout we lay down for a bit and relax maybe talk maybe put on a record and just enjoy each others company”

you smile at this, as you’re pretty sure you’ve never wanted something more than to just lay in a bed domestically with harry after a long day and listen to a record. so that’s what you do, for probably an hour you laugh and lay and talk about everything from music to tv shows and don’t forget the animals you want once you’re out of a ten foot apartment. and it feels nice, it feels right.

a break in the conversation comes before harry is caressing your leg, your thigh more like it and somewhere in the conversation you decided to take off your jeans because they were uncomfortable right? definitely not because you wanted to slowly start taking clothes off, maybe to tell him you were ready, maybe not? okay yeah definitely you were trying to send signs.

so back to him caressing your thigh, to make it more obvious you slowly spread them allowing him to stroke deeper, closer to your spot that aches so so goodbadgoodbadgood you can’t tell anymore.

he chuckles lowly “I can tell what you’re doing baby, just tell me what you want and i’ll give it to you” . You look up at him trying to find the words to describe the ache and the need but all you say is “touch me please?” this elicits another chuckle “where” he whispers “my- umm my pussy” he takes you aback when you feel a light slap on your inner thigh

“you’re missing something little girl try again” you whine “touch my pussy harry” after a moment his hand in the air like a warning you whisper “please”

“good girl bunny knew you were my good girl” you want to smile but instead of happy it makes you crave him more. he slides himself down further on the bed before coming face to face with your heat, he wraps your legs around his neck before tracing an outline slowly, teasingly around your panty line

you huff loudly earning another slap “be patient let me enjoy this okay?” you nod not wanting him to back away and decide to no longer pleasure you how you want

he finally after a lifetime grips the top of your underwear slowly dragging it down your body and finally throwing it off the bed.

he leans in getting closer to your pussy until he finally places a small kiss right atop your clit, you whine tugging at his hair , urging, begging for more.

finally his teasing tops and he dives in enjoying tasting you, you feel foolish for believing you could come already but it's been a long time, too long, way too long. as he continues you feel your orgasm getting closer.

”harry please i’m right there, just need to come - fuck!” you yell out as you come undone for him, he licks you up until you’re shaking from overstimulation.

smirking to himself he runs into the bathroom to grab a towel to wipe you down and before leaving a kiss on your inner thigh, you whine slightly and he playfully bites down. you lay back watching him go back into the bathroom, although you should feel bliss and have no thoughts, you have every thought. would this happen again? was it a one time thing? so when he walks back in, you don’t notice too caught up in your own thoughts.

”what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours” he whispers while laying down next to you, pulling you in for a cuddle

you sigh, “i know i shouldn’t be thinking about what this means but i just want to know where your head is, i mean if its a one time thing that's okay, i guess i always thought of you more than that but i would understand if-“

he cuts you off with a peck, looking into your eyes. “its not a one time thing for me i’ve had a crush on you forever, lets worry about it in the morning yeah?”

you smile up at him letting yourself relax slightly as he pulls you in farther and you drift off to sleep, you'd figure it out in the morning, right?

[abiiors]

falling for you ❤️ // matty healy x reader

promptober '23 - day 10

a/n: might be one of my favs of this month?? writing this made me so giggly, i do very much love the song cw: smoking?? umm nothing else, i don't think wc: 950

a leaf crunches under matty’s foot, shooting a tendril of thrill through him. giddiness and adrenaline is an amazing combination, he’s realised. especially if she's with him, holding the flashlight in one hand and his hand in the other. 

if only so she won’t get lost in the darkness. 

they are breaking into a graveyard at 1 am afterall. what else do bored teenagers do on nights they feel rebellious? so matty allows himself another excited grin knowing she can’t see his face and tugs on her hand. 

“scared?” he teases, giggling when she scoffs quite bravely. 

“you wish, healy.” 

he should commend her, really. the tremor in her voice was quite well hidden that time. 

“well you did just enlist me to finish your dare so…”

“matty!” behind him he can hear her anxiously biting down her nails, bitten red and raw and down to the skin. he tuts, the pot calling the kettle black but at least she stops. 

“you won’t tell ross would you?” she asks sheepishly.

stifling his laughter seems almost impossible then, so much so that he stops abruptly and she walks into his back, making him burst out laughing anyway. a hand comes up from behind him—her slapping a palm over his mouth, muffling his cackle. 

they both look at each other, matty with tears streaming down his face and her with a slightly annoyed glare that’s quickly melting away. he gulps in air to calm himself down, to breathe in the scent of her skin. jasmine. just like it’s always been. 

“wouldn’t…” his voice comes out muffled and she immediately moves her hand away, making him feel a little cold. “wouldn’t tell ross, i promise. don’t wanna ruin your stellar reputation! he’d never let you live it down.” 

“yeah, alright matty,” she rolls her eyes but the laugh in her voice is unmistakable. “you care about my reputation so much, sure, i believe you.”

“hey!” he protests, jogging up to her when she starts walking away from him and deeper into the graveyard, a little brave now. “why wouldn’t i care about my best friend’s reputation?” the word stings, he swallows it down. 

matty catches up to her, walking side by side as he stares at her profile illuminated by the moon. the old smudged eyeliner under her eyes, the faint dusting of freckles, the slight curve of her lips that fights to be free even when she’s trying so hard to act annoyed at him. 

it disarms him thoroughly, so much so that he has to shakily light a cigarette just so he would have something to do with his hands. 

it’s not new though, she always disarms him, he always lights a cigarette to stop his hands from shaking. at this rate, his lungs would shrivel up well before his heart does from the joys of unrequited love. 

“there she is,” he points into the distance, putting on his old-man spooky voice. “old dorothy and her old grave. you know what to do…” 

he’s well aware of the local legend and so is ross. hence the dare—she has to chip away a piece of stone from the oldest grave in town and bring it to him. and it has to be done on a full moon's night according to george the folklore connoisseur. 

she gulps involuntarily, lingering a bit and toeing the grass. matty watches, amused, as she tries to gather courage. the girl he’s known all his life for being tough as nails scared of a harmless local legend. 

“don’t take two though,” he teases, wiggling his fingers in front of her face. “you know what they say—dorothy punishes the greedy.”

“i don’t even want one piece, why would i take two?” she mutters, wiping her sweaty hands on her jeans. matty wants to kiss them, place a tiny kiss on her palm. maybe even on her lips while he’s at it. 

shakily he takes a drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke.

“give me that,” she practically demands it, barely waiting for him to hand it to her before she takes a deep drag, cheeks hollowed, eyes closed. when she opens them again, she looks calmer. then she turns to him and blows the smoke in his direction in tiny rings and matty damn near goes into cardiac arrest from that alone. 

“right, here i go!” she jumps in place once, twice to hype herself up while he tries to recover. and then just like that, she sprints into the night. towards the moss-covered crumbling grave. 

matty takes another drag. and then one more just in case. 

not even half a minute later she’s jogging back to him, only a silhouette in the moonlight before her triumphant face becomes clear. her fist is held high in the air, the little piece of mossy rock hoisted like a trophy. 

“all done!” she whoops cringing instantly when matty hurries to shush her. 

unmistakably a porchlight turns on in the distance. a grumble—something about “rowdy teenagers” and a flashlight shines on them, blinding them for a moment. 

she squeals, pocketing the stone and grabbing matty’s hand. 

“run!” he yells, laughing maniacally as they run out the graveyard, hand-in-hand, all the way until they’re out the wrought iron gates and in a little alley before bursting into wheezing and fits of giggles. 

she pumps her fist up giddily. “oh ross can suck my dick, i did it!” 

matty stares, memorising the details of her face, of the curve of her lips, the glee in her eyes. the way her hair blows in the wind, unruly and slipping out of her claw clip. 

she looks alive. his heart thuds in his chest. 

it really is a shame that he’s a coward. 

lemme know what you think <33

taglist: @scooby-doodoo, @partoftheairforce, @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855@beachesgetpeaches, @you-muppet, @mcabister, @alexmarie29, @at-her-very-foreign, @hfkait, @squishysoupy@sierraeslaprincesa@harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet@thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @theoriginalwhatsername@celestcies@sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @thewaywewereinsaigon @daphnesutton @beliefandsayingsomething @ros3chu @nothingrevealedeverythingdenied @zzzhealy @mattymybeloved

add yourself to the taglist

[typicalopposite]

💧 & Firstprince please 😄 x

Ok so this might be a little different than what the original prompt meant... BUUUUUT here you go :) I hope you like it <3

<3<3<3

Henry stands in front of the large tank of water, eyeing it suspiciously. “What’s wrong, H… you scared?” Alex comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around Henry’s waist. “It’s just water.”

“It’s just going to be the headline of every newspaper, magazine, and podcast for weeks…” Henry sighs. “Here and back in London. Grandpa is going to have a heart attack…” He hears Nora and Percy’s voices, and turns to see them coming back with Henry and Alex’s goggles. “Remind me why I agreed to this?” 

Alex presses a kiss to the back of Henry’s neck. “It’s for a good cause,” he laughs. 

“Okay, one for you,” Nora says, handing a pair of goggles to Alex. “Aaand one for you.” Henry takes his goggles and looks at them, dreading this decision immensely. “Now get ‘em on and get in the hot seats people are already lining up.” 

“Good luck, mate…” Percy says, trying not very hard at all to hide his gleeful grin. He pats Henry on the shoulder and takes off after Nora into the crowd of people gathering around the dunk tank. 

“You ready?” Alex asks, already climbing the ladder up to his side. 

No… Henry thinks, but follows Alex’s lead and gets up onto the little drop down seat. It’s rickety and feels like it might just give from his weight alone. “Ugh I’m just ready for this to be over…” he sighs, looking down into the water just past his dangling feet. 

“Okay, okay, okay!” Nora’s voice rings out. She’s got a mic and is walking back up to the dunk tank. “Hello, Houston! How is everybody doing today?” The crowd cheers loudly. “Alright, that’s awesome! Well in keeping with the summer fun we are here to get a little up close and personal with everyone’s favorite international power couple, the faces of the infamous Cake-Gate, and newlyweds… often known as FirstPrince; Alexander Claremont-Diaz and His Royal Highness Prince Henry.” 

Again the crowd goes wild. 

The rules are simple. It’s $5 to get a question and a toss. There are three targets in front of the tank, one directly to Alex’s chair, one to Henry’s, and one to both. They are positioned very unfairly��in Henry’s opinion—in a small triangle so it’s really up to chance (or luck that the pitcher has good aim) on who gets dunked. Nothing too personal, nothing disrespectful, nothing vulgar… just common sense, really ask decent questions and try to dunk the former president's son or the prince of England. The end of the pitcher line is nowhere in sight. 

Beside him Henry can see Alex’s smile stretching out across his face. The first person in the line walks up. A teenager; they lean towards Nora’s mic and say that their name is Cale, and they want to thank both of them for their courage and their influence in the community. They say they are so inspired by them and just love them so much. Henry feels his heart swell. Suddenly he doesn’t dread the headlines anymore. He and Alex both thank the kid for their kind words, causing them to blush. 

They take the ball and toss it; it hits Alex’s target, and he drops into the tank. The crowd erupts into laughter, and Henry can’t suppress his own as Alex bobs up and shakes the water from his curls. 

The next, a young woman, comes up to the mic and asks if they are enjoying married life. They give each other jokingly disgusted looks, but both say they are happier than they have ever been. The woman smiles, thanking them for their answer. She tosses her ball underhanded… and again Alex gets dunked; this time Henry doesn’t try to hide his laughter. 

“Oh you enjoy it now,” Alex teases, shaking his curls off towards Henry as he comes up. 

More people come up, more people take shots at the targets. If it’s not a miss it’s Alex that drops into the water, until they get to a point Alex is bargaining with the pitchers to aim for Henry’s. Henry laughs and argues back that they shouldn’t break the streak clearly being made for Alex. They are playfully bickering, and bargaining, and Henry is having so much fun. 

Alex climbs back onto his seat. Water drips from his drenched curls onto his long lashes. He looks so handsome regardless of his wet stature, Henry has to stop a moment to stare. The next question asked, and the next ball is tossed and it smacks the double drop target hard. 

Henry braces himself… and only Alex drops. He shoots back out of the water like a torpedo. “No hell!” He says lunging over the side of the tank and slapping Henry’s target, finally dropping him into the water. He holds his breath as he sinks into the tank, even fully submerged he can hear the crowd screaming and laughing. He pops back up and runs his hands through his no longer styled hair. Alex looks very satisfied with himself, so Henry feels compelled to splash water at him. The action is repeated back and then they are playfully wrestling in the tank, while the crowd continues to cheer and root for one or the other. 

By the time the line has dwindled down, they are both shriveled up like prunes, but they have raised an insane amount of money for the shelter’s, and shared a ton of fun stories with their community. Both of them pose for the photographer that wants one more picture of them together before they leave. Henry leans in towards Alex and smiles big at the camera, waiting until he’s about to snap the picture to tug Alex off his seat, sending him back into the water. That one’s gonna make a nice front page story… Henry thinks. 

[brighteyedbushybrowed]

can we get headcanons on how cardinal copia would react to getting a long confessional love letter from his crush?

I love this request so much aaaaaaaa I saw someone else do a request like this so I wanted to leave it for a few days so it wouldn't seem like I was copying anyone and hopefully not be compared to them. Funny story, this one time I did a request that was similar to one someone else was done and I got hate in my inbox suggesting I was copying them lmaoooo anyway here's wonderwall

I think it's obvious that he's shocked about this

He has to read the letter a few times because he thinks he's dreaming or the letter is fake. Perhaps a cruel joke being played on him

However, the words and the emotions they stir within him just can't be fake in his mind

There's so much genuine emotion and love in everything you say in your confession that he's moved by the letter and everything you say about him

It's during this letter that he realises you've both been pining after each other for what must be over a year at this point

And he kicks himself

Because had Copia known his love was reciprocated he would have acted on his feelings far sooner and confessed to you himself

He's not sure what to do at first, however

He doesn't know if he should seek you out immediately and kiss you and lay out all of his emotions for you, or if he should write a letter in response

Copia eventually decides to write a letter in response, detailing his deep, unending, unconditional love for you

It's just as long as yours - a good 7 sides of lined paper - and more than once he had to start it over

When he's finally happy with it and gathers up the courage, he has Aether deliver it to you personally with the Cardinal's seal stamped on the back so that you know it's really him

He finds waiting for your response to be torturous

He's a patient man usually, but his anxiety and nerves make him impatient

Then it finally happens

He receives a knock at his office door a couple of days after he had Aether deliver his own confession and it's you

And oh Satanas you are a vision to behold

Dressed in your sibling of sin uniform customised to be lined with his favourite colour, the sunlight filtering through the stained glass of his window to bathe you in vibrant colours that somehow make you even more breathtaking

And are those flowers? For him?!

The smile on your face is positively radiant

Copia can't help but rush over and kiss you

Your first kiss isn't perfect like in the movies or romance novels, but it doesn't need to be

It's real and it's chapped lips and his inexperienced tongue pushing into your mouth because Terzo has always boasted about how his lovers like that so surely you'd like that too, right?

Copia shakes a little because even with you here and kissing him back and knowing you both love one another he's still scared that you're going to turn around and say that you don't feel the same way about him as he does about you

You both end up blurting out your confessions again and giggling

And Copia promises to take you out on the most amazing, spectacular first date possible

It'll take you reassuring him that you don't need grand gestures and displays of his influence to win you over, because he's already got you as long as he'll have you

[nyx-greenwood99]

Fear of Pains pt.2

Continuation of part 1, keep in mind this will contain harsh topics like abusive childhood and abortion as well as arguing and panic attacks.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

I'd spent the day holed up in my office when I wasn't teaching. I'd held back tears and tried to keep a lid on my emotions as I taught. Flickers of how scared I was of being pregnant flitted in and out of my mind, but I knew I'd need to speak with him before making a decision.

Over the course of the day I managed myself rather well but in the lengthy classes I heard whispers from the students about how Snape had been awful today, more awful than usual. Snippy and contrite, just horrid. It wasn't until mid afternoon that I saw a student in the back of my class sobbing that I realized just how horrid he was being.

I gather my courage and bite down feelings of frustration and fear, storming to his classroom. Putting our personal issues aside he was taking his frustrations out on the students and I was not going to let that continue.

I rudely open his door to find him pacing, a glass of his usual whiskey on his desk. He stops dead in his tracks, his face flickering rapidly through emotions, first relief then anger, followed shortly by fear and finally settling into a mask of disgust.

I stop short, him never having looked at me so venomously, it truly rattled me.

"Severus we need to talk" I calmly state

"like hell, get out of my office" he bites out, mildly slurred.

I look again over at the glass, realizing he'd been drinking, drinking far too much to be normal. I shake my head, knowing he must be really upset to do something so stupid.

"Severus, you're slurring" I get a glass of water and set it on his desk.

"sit down, drink"

I point to the glass, watching him debate ignoring me. I glare at him, making it clear if he doesn't I'll force him to.

He sits begrudgingly and chugs the water, swiping his cuff over his mouth. His hair is more tousled than usual like he'd been repeatedly raking his hands through it.

"we need to talk about this morning but first, you're acting like a twat. The students have been whispering about you all day."

He shoots me a glare, clearly pissed off and loathing that I'm lecturing him on his foul behavior.

"Are you going to respond or sit there and stare?" I hiss, my anger welling up despite my attempts to control it

"I need to think" is all he says.

"you've had all day and I have a decision to make. Youre leaving me in limbo, so unless you want me to decide on my own we're discussing this"

"you're going to decide with or without me, what's the point?" He sighs, looking defeated

"I...Severus, your opinion matters....I have final say but you get to make your opinions known, I want to know what you're thinking"

I stammer, caught off guard by the fear and exhaustion in his voice. He looks up to me, his eyes glassy and his cheeks flushed with drink.

"you know I want to do this together" I murmur out, my voice thick with emotion

He balks, standing and pacing again, his hands raking through his hair.

"you don't understand, I can't do this! I don't want nor have need for a child, look at me!" He exclaims, his eyes wide with panic, his calm facade cracking under the weight of his emotions.

"Severus, I understand-" I try to interject

"No, you don't understand, you understand the fear, the worry of being better than both our parents were but-im the father, I'm the violent one! Its all on me, I can't be that, I can't be a father" his voice cracks, tears welling in his eyes, his panic and despair palpable.

I quickly stand, walking to him and taking his hands while he trembles, his eyes far away.

"Severus, you are not your father, you are a good man, a brave kind man" I speak sternly, holding his gaze

"I trust you, you are the man I chose, do you think I'd be with you if I feared you?" I murmur, my voice going soft and quivering.

I can't bear to see my unshakable man looking so distraught. I stroke my thumbs over his hands, soothing him and giving him a moment to breathe.

"we don't have to keep it either, I'm not ready...." I whisper, preparing for his response.

"you....you don't want it?" He hesitantly asks.

"we haven't discussed children and we're only two years in. I trust you but frankly I'm not ready. If you want them, one day maybe but not now...." My voice trembles, feeling so worried that he'll hate or resent me.

"then we won't have it" he sighs, his shoulders slumping in relief

I watch in surprise as he starts to calm

"you don't want it?" I ask

"heavens no, I love you but Merlins beard, it's far too soon to do so. We both have careers and frankly...I'm not ready either" he replies with earnest eyes.

"oh thank Merlin, I thought you were going to hate me for not wanting it" I gasp out with a nervous laugh, my tears spilling out as my emotions break free.

His eyes widen, seeing my tears and he immediately pulls me into his arms, stroking my hair tenderly

"I would never hate you for that, I want you to be happy, not force you to comply with my wants" he murmurs softly

I cry quietly into his coat, his arms staying around me in an embrace.

A few moments pass, us both calming in one anothers comfort before we pull apart, looking at one another with renewed soft affection.

"I'm so sorry, I acted like a twat. You are right, not about just the students but I should have considered how you were feeling" he gently speaks, his voice rough with emotion.

"I accept your apology...in the future just tell me what youre feeling.... we're in together, you and I" I tenderly murmur

"may I get you the potion?" He asks quietly, his eyes searching mine for any emotions of regret

"please, gods I'm so scared of it being in me" I breathe out in a quivering voice

He chuckles and retrieves it from his shelf.

"having something growing in you is rather frightening" he calmly replies, attempting to soothe my nerves.

I swig the potion, handing him the vial back. He takes my hand and pulls me over to his desk, settling into his chair and pulling me onto his lap in a rare display of deep affection.

"I.....I want to do everything with you but children....I'm terrified to repeat my father's actions" he murmurs softly against my shoulder, his arms curled around me.

"I'm terrified too, I don't want to screw a child up the way I was" I whisper back

"you'd be an excellent mother if you so chose to be one" he replies tenderly, his dark eyes glittering with adoration as he looks over my features.

"you'd be a wonderful father" I murmur

"I'm glad you think so highly of me" he mutters, almost sheepish

I kiss his forehead speaking tenderly, "maybe far down the line, but for now I'm happy to have all your attention and affections"

"my sweet girl" he rumbles, his head lolling sleepily against my shoulder as he feels his heart calm, reminded of just how perfectly flawed and wonderful our life is.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Please let me know what you thought! I'm a bit rusty but I hope you guys enjoyed :)

[r0-boat]

Heyyy wassupp

(This is my first time using Tumblr after a long period of time so idk if I'm requesting how i should)

I'm not sure if you take SFW requests but if you do, here's my request:

Ingo and Emmet having a partner that is trans (Both FTM or MTF are fine) finally decides to tell them,but they're really shy about telling them?

Thank you! :)

Hi! Congratulations for sending your first request! Yes I do sfw and nsfw

I've always to right about something like this but keep in mind that I am not trans so if I get things wrong please please tell me! Because again I am not trans and I don't want to either spread false information or say something that's potentially hurtful or insensitive.

Trans!Reader x Ingo

Trans!reader x emmet

Shy Reader coming out to Ingo and Emmet as trans.

Emmet

He noticed something was off in your behavior recently; being very perceptive to behavior changes, the slightest difference could send him questioning. He knew you were shy, but you seemed more dismissive than fearful; immediately, he asked if you were okay, and you were scared stiff that your boyfriend was already on to you. He answered,' Yeah... I just wanted to talk to you later.' his heart was pounding, and Emmet was freaking out on the inside. He knew you were lying. The look on your face was everything. It was all he thought about. If something were bothering you, then he would want to know now at this second. So he could either fix the problem or make you feel better, but he knew that if it was important to you, then he should never press and force you to tell him until you're ready, no matter how much he doesn't like when you keep things from him.

His heart was pounding when he saw you again you look like you were ready to cry as you talked very Softly your voice breaking is you struggled to find your words. He waited, wanting to physically comfort you as you find what you were trying to say. When you finally tell him that the gender he's always known you as wasn't what you were born with. You frozen fear when you saw his face; however, his Blank Stare turned into something else when he sighed in relief.

No it wasn't because you were trans in fact he was extremely happy with the fact that you took the courage to come out to him. He reassured that he would always love you no matter who you were....

"then what about that sigh of relief and that look on his face?" You ask because of that split moment it did kind of freak you out.

"Oh when you wanted to talk I thought we were breaking up. I prepared for the worst. I'm verrrrry glad it wasn't that." Emmet said a hand scratching the back of his head feeling nervous about the whole thing that Signature Smile of his becoming softer.

He apologizes for how he acted earlier and if he had scared you. And the two of you got ice cream/lunch to celebrate.

Ingo

At first, he has a million questions. He reassures you that at any time, if you'd like to talk about it, please take your time to tell him. He does not pick up on your change in Behavior. However when you do tell him in his head, he tries to find the problem before you even try to talk to him all day. It's just questions about the times he was slightly annoying and vowed to change it.

When you wanted to talk about anything important it could never be in a public place since Ingo is still struggling with his volume control. And even then Ingo tried to talk a little quiet at you he's not sure if it actually helps or not he just doesn't want to become too much.

He takes all important talks with you with the utmost seriousness. You adore it but at the same time it's a little scary. It's really hard when he looks you directly in the eye. as you begin talking he listens, taking it every word, but he couldn't stay quiet for long occasionally making small comments as you continue with your story of when before you transition to gather your courage.

Then you told him his eyes widening. You were scared at first even though that face of shock was something you expected. But your worries quickly dissipated and your eardrums as well when Ingo shouted excitedly "BRAVO!! CONGRADULATIONS!!" He was sad that he wasn't there too celebrate with you when you transitioned or any Milestone that you went past or support your hardships and at the same time he was extremely happy that you told him this information and trusted him with it and it just all rolled into excitement.

His Outburst almost scared the trans out of you but nonetheless you were extremely happy he took it well giving him a smile despite your ears now ringing. Realizing what are you done he immediately starts apologizing for his outburst. He offers to take you out to a restaurant and pay for dinner anywhere you want.

[abeinginsand]

ooh also 💝👻 for Glenn for the headcanon ask game!

Hi again!! ooo Glenn hc time!! :D Sorry I took awhile, this one ended up longer than expected

Hcs Ask Game

--- 💝 A headcanon about their love language I will say that I have two ideas here that might contradict each other but regardless-- Glenn loves being held, around the waist, by the hand, in a hug, the rare piggy back or bridal carry etc. He loves feeling someone's weight, their warm presence against him. His mind chanting subconsciously: Show me you're here. Show me I'm not alone

However, he never knew how much he enjoyed physical affection given how lacking it was growing up until falling for one amazing Morgan Freeman. She always loved hooking their arms together as they walked or weaving a hand through his hair when they rested together. They took turns carrying each other down the aisle even! It was overwhelming at times though and they eventually talked about it. She was good at that--making talking about things and setting boundaries a little more fun and little less like nails on a chalkboard (the sentimental weed helped too of course).

And when she.... well he found himself being affectionate like she had in some ways even after he couldn't hold onto her anymore. Hugs Nick close when they head to bed for the night, even though neither sleep that well anymore. He puts an arm around Darryl's shoulder and leans in to talk to him. Let's Henry braid his hair at the campfire when his friend needs something for his trembling hands to do. Teaches Ron about a proper fist-bump and high-five. Childishly getting into poking/elbowing sessions with Jodie (the usual sibling bickering (tm)) Eventually, gathers the courage to ask for hugs sometimes too. As a goodbye at first, planning to head into Hell, but after, too, when they all still kept meeting up. When Nicky was still small enough, he'd pick him up and spin him around sometimes or they'd fly around together. All while said teen groaned dramatically or laughed... --- On the other hand, something Glenn has always done without influence is use his voice as an instrument of love in itself. He'd never explain it like that though since that sounds pretty cheesy. The musician enjoys giving people nicknames/petnames and absolutely adores making up little songs for loved ones. He had a little song he sang with Bill when he was kid though he only remembers the tune and not the lyrics when he gets older. He made new lyrics and sang it as a lullaby instead. For the songs lyrics themselves...nothing that his band would play nor anything for a radio station--more so a minute or two of short tunes based on mundane stuff. Singing a clean-up song to motivate little Nick to help him and Morgan clean up his toys for example. Back when Morgan was still working at Disneyland, he had this 'finally off work' song he'd serenade her with when he picked her up from work or when she came back home to find him holding a snoozing kiddo on the couch. Though there were plenty of other spicier songs for Morgan too to which she was entertained and plenty flustered about, she called him kitten as usual but also a menace (affectionate) ;] So in summary, wants to be held, will not ask unless you've known him for years, will happily sing and create cheesy songs for people though ---- 👻 A headcanon about what scares them ...Hmm, first thought was not being recognized by people he cares about. Now I don't know much about Christine and sorry if this sounds like slander but... I think she'd be the origin of this particular fear. When things were good between his parents, they spent time together all the time. Huddled up on the couch with 'Glenny' in the middle to watch his mom's favorite shows. Or stroll around town or the park and be told stories about how how much the city changed since Bill was a kid ("see, used to be a big-ol dog statue over here but it got sold for a charity or somethin'. Now there's rose bushes over there. Tell me, what you would have put there, kid?"). To which he excitedly said 'a statue of meatball' (his canonical pet goldfish) and Bill gave him a round of applause and a fist bump while Christine softly patted his hair with a soft smile. But after the divorce/separation, mom moved out fast, and his parents swapped him from home to home every few weeks. Well there's the line during the court case that's something like "mom taught me rules and dad told me how to break them." Eventually, Christine didn't recognize her son anymore--he seemed so much more Bill every year and it...well she wished it didn't annoy her but oh boy it did. She found herself distancing herself from both Bill and Glenn especially after seeing her side of the parenting undone every month. At some point, Bill gets Glenn into some trouble as a teen and he tries for once to ask his mom for help. And she lets the resentment get the best of her in the moment, the feelings having built up. Says something like "I told you to stop listening to him. You're not my son, you're his. I couldn't fix him and I can't help you." They don't meet up in person after that, only the occasional text or once a month call.

He can't win back his mom, but darn does he try to be whatever people want him to be after that. To keep them around because he's always afraid he'll become a 'stranger' to avoid again.

Unfortunately, this also leads to letting his son be his friend and desperately hoping to impress him at all times.

[phychohex]

I Met a Vampire Down in Santa Carla (chapter two)

Sitting down watching as Josh and Will search for a prop they lost in the water. Right now we are larping something we only did once a month cause they take so long. So far we have come to the beach and introduced my character. I play a high elf named Ismeth. Kayla sits next to us as we are currently out of game. "god can't believe those idiots actually put it in the water" she groans. She played teilfling rouge. She is currently in full get-up. I only had the ears on and a normal outfit that fit into my stepdad's stupid regulations. "should we help"

"you can" I huff she looks at me and laughs.

"no way are you still scared" Scared was a huge understatement. I had an insane phobia of the water but for all the right reasons. My dad had died in the ocean, I was there. Even though I went through years of intense therapy at a young age I never got over it. "how can a siren be scared of the ocean" she jokes and I shake my head. "I'm just fucking with you. I don't blame you, but you never really told me though what happened." She wasn't wrong even though we were the closest any two people could be I never could retell the story of that day. It always hurts too much. It doesn't help I was only five and what I do remember was through the eyes of a young child. I used to say a monster killed my dad and as far as I know that was true. The ocean is a monster.

A shriek of joy turns our attention back to Will. "found it" he exclaims and puts the game back on. We go over and look at a ceramic box with carving on it. Lilly holds it and flips through her book being a very powerful sossocer.

"I cast magic detection" hovering her hand over the box as Josh plays the role as Game master.

"Thy treasures may only be shown to one of true heart and courage. For if thou fail a deadly curse shall be cast down" We look at each other not sure what to do. Look at our barbarian who was played by Alex. He steps back shaking his head.

"you've fought a whole village of orcs come on" Kayla groans "That's pretty courageous"

"Who said I was scared to fight them"

"What are you talking about that has nothing to do with it" she snaps they always did this back and forth but that is only because their characters had been partners under odd circumstances. In reality, they got along very well.

"That defies the definition of courage" Lilly points out "Courage is shown when doing something even though it scares you"

"How is fighting a horde of orcs not terrifying tho" I ask

"I'm half" he shrugs. "besides it doesn't say a past act we have to do one now to prove to the box, so one of us should touch it that would be courageous"

"then do it" Kayla scuffs

"can't" he smiles "A tiny box doesn't scare the Mighty Throx" he boasts. "why not you?" she rolls her eyes.

"Have you not met me I'm anything but pure-hearted" Now lost with what to do. I go over to the water my heart racing.

"I will do it" I start not much of my character was known but this could be a good way to give a background. "my village was once attacked by a beast known as the Farquill. Many parished and my home was never the same yet somewhere out there the beast lay waiting to finish the job" I take a deep breath "I fear that if I ever step foot in the cold waters it will know" I let the water hit my feet before a loud crash. I turn to see Will smash the ceramic box on the ground.

"Juese dude" Josh snaps "trying to take someone out" I quickly step away "I also didn't want her to do that, you didn't have to do that Rory" he gave an apologetic look "But it worked." I go over and grab the scroll. it is a map. "that's it for today anyways um I guess we clean this up" I look at the time.

"shit" I start gathering my stuff.

"what" Lilly looks over "You okay"

"yeah, I'm going to be late I got to go" We all share our goodbyes and I drive to the tattoo shop. I enter with a ding of the bell going to the front desk waiting for Oscar. Instead, I'm greeted by a tall guy with short hair covered in tattoos sporting a goatee.

"How may I help you" he leans in smiling.

"I'm looking for Oscar" he turns and calls him.

Entering with that golly grin plastered on his face "Rory there you are Will told me you were on the way come on I'll show you where you can set up." I head back and the guy turns looking very displeased. I go back to; the shop being very high-end if I may say so. Each artist had a room to themselves. The room had all the stuff I needed. The chair for the client, a rolling stool, the drawers for all the supplies. "so you set up with all your stuff decorate as you like the shared supplies are down at the end of the hall." He smiles. The room was that of a small bedroom about 10x10. I go out to my car minding my own business noticing Oscar talking with the guy from before. I start loading my stuff in and making the room my own.

The tattoo gun I have is bright pink along with the gloves I use. I put a fluffy pink stool cover on making the place feel more like my own. I hang up some of my work all with a Pink wooden frame. The bride of Frankinsitne and Frankenstine both had rounded frames; putting them side by side facing each other. The other framed photo was a fairy with phycodelic cloud puff sitting on a mushroom smoking a hooka. Having to go get the shared shit from the storage room I leave making my way down the hall. I notice the man who greeted me glaring. Oscar comes out of his office offering to help.

"by the way this is Tyler he will be working night shift with you. It will be just you too at night." I hold out my hand and give him a handshake. "let me go get a box for you" Oscar walks off leaving me alone with tyler who didn't seem to thrilled to have me here. I could care less I wasn't here to be buddy buddy with people anyway. While it would be nice to be friends he didn't seem the type of person I'd be friends with. I'm here to do my thing and get paid that's all.

"can't believe I have a chick working with me" he huffs "When he said I was finally getting permanent help at night I didn't think he set me up with a newbie" Before more could be said under his breath Oscar came back showing me the supplies room.

"Is he always like that" I question. Oscar seemed all too clear knowing what I meant.

"just ignore him. All bark no bite, he has had some trouble with coworkers in general but he is damn good that's why I keep him. If you have any problem just let me know" reassuring me that I'd be okay and gathering what I needed before heading back to my area. It was quiet for the most part until some big dude with lots of tattoos covering his arms came in.

"oi, Rory right?" Tyler calls me over "I'll make a bet with you," intreged I walk over. "I want to see what you got. Round here respect is earned so whoever design he chooses wins bragging rights and gets to buy dinner on break deal" Feeling ballsy and a sense to prove myself I shake on it before going over. "how may I help you Tony" Apparently this was a recurring client knowing I might've made a bad decision.

"Sup, I'm looking to get a spider with an eye for the body. Just wanted to fill in some of the gaps" taking what he wanted and rushing off to start drawing what he wanted having a couple of ideas. I drew a normal spider and modified it by making the body like he wanted but it turned out kinda cartoony. Trying again to make it more photorealistic with the pupil being the hourglass-like a black widow. After about thirty minutes I go to see if Tyler was done and he was still working on the idea. He was good, so good it made me a bit nervous. He had the tarantula with the pattern being an eye it was realistic as well and in color. If it was my tattoo I'd probably choose him it would blend in and not be so obvious either. We go over Tony was impressed. "damn that's sick" he chuckles "I like this one" he fucking pointed to mine "Can it be in color" he asks "Thinking the eye can be red" I nod surprised he actually choose mine. The way I went about the design was a bit cartoony while Tyler's was more like something you'd see. Proud of myself we discuss everything.

I take him back and start setting up my station and doing the placement. After positioning it about twice I was ready. "would you like music or we can talk" I offer.

"music's fine" he smiles "What you got"

"not much sadly It's my first day in this shop so I haven't got the room completely decked out I can turn on a station if you'd like" I offer playing with the station till it is what he prefured. I get started my mind hyperfocused on what I was doing. I was finally in my zone. My mind was at ease nothing could stop my flow. I loved when clients wanted music, while I don't mind talking I'd much rather just vibe. I move on to the coloring after what felt like only thirty minutes even though I doubt it was. I felt thirsty leaning up and stopping the clock.

"is everything ok" The concern in his voice was a bit startling.

"yeah I just need something to drink real quick" I smile.

"you pay by hour no?"

"I do that's why I stopped the clock, I charge for the work I do not for taking breaks. Can I get you anything while I'm up?"

"Could I get some water too if you don't mind" I nod and go to get our drinks I glance at the time it has been almost two hours. fifty bucks. I was nowhere near done maybe another two to go. I come back refreshed and let him sit and relax some before resterilizing and going back to work this time no music.

"so where did you work before this"

"I worked in a shop called Vixxin it was in New Mexico"

"you from there"

"no I just moved back" I smile. "so when did you start your collage" I joke

"When I was bout your age I think. I was fucking around with some friends and got a stick and poke after a few of those I got addicted." we start talking about the addiction tattoo and how some had meanings. He was a war vet and had a big eagle on his bicep. Having served in Vietnam he moved to Santa Carla afterwards. The war changed him having seen such horrible things made him want to help those. Like the victims he saw in the war the civilians who just happened to be in the way of fire. He is currently a firefighter and has a kid on the way.

Wrapping things up and heading to the front his total wasn't bad. I did great; being really proud of my work. "I hope you enjoy and congratulations on the kiddo" I smile

"thanks and you know this was one of the best services I've gotten can I tip." Not sure if it was allowed I called for Oscar who still happened to be here.

"how can I help" He smiles

"Can we accept a tip ?"

"Yeah," I'm handed twenty-five which was a pleasant surprise. Having a happy customer made my night that much better. "well shit look at that keep up the good work." Oscar pats my back "I'm going to get going here in a bit"

"do you want me to just put it in a jar in the front?" I ask not sure of the rules on tips.

"Nah that's yours I believe if you earn it it's yours. My wife used to be a waitress and came home always mad about how she had to split her hard-earned money with people who sat around. So that's yours be proud." I go back to my room cleaning up again when I hear the ding. I go to see a woman waiting.

"How may I help you" I smile. The rest of the night was easy I had one other quick tattoo customer and did a few pricings. I started my reservations and appointments for clients. When break rolled around Tyler ordered a pizza and ignored me for the rest of the night pissy that I won the bet which was the icing on top. While sweeping up the floors and going around to start closing up shop Tyler comes out.

"you did good," He mutters still butt hurt.

"thank you" I smile "I got it from here if you want to go" I offer trying to be on a more friendly term with him.

"No it's fine you go I got it" he starts towards the back.

"Are you sure" I look at him and he nods I finish what I am doing before grabbing my things and heading out. The boardwalk was slowly closing the only places still open being a twenty-four hour convenience store as well as a few bars that didn't close till five. I get in my car and drive over to the store to get a snack and a drink. As I am checking out I hear the loud engines of bikes outside. I glance over to meet the blue eyes of the man from a few nights ago. Being almost entranced by them.

"is that all" the teenager working the counter asks with a bratty attitude. I look over nodding handing her the money before making my way out. They just sat there getting gas and all loudly talking. Having noticed me staring he leans forward against the handles nodding his head up eyebrows doing the same smirking. I quickly look away before getting in my car and heading home. I unlock the front door and enter not expecting Steve to be waiting nearly scaring the wits out of me.

"oh my god," I jump dropping my bag. I groan and pick my stuff up ready for the earful of whatever bullshit was about to spew out of his mouth.

"where were you" he questions "It's almost four in the morning"

"I was at work" I move past him "I told you I got it why are you surprised" Setting my things down on the counter I try to ignore him.

"you said you get off at three" he snaps

"I needed gas" opening the fridge to put my things away which was quickly slammed shut in my face.

"you will look at me when I am talking to you" He yells. "how do you expect to get shit done if you are out all night"

"what do you mean" I snap back.

"We agreed you'd help did we not"

"yes, I have a job though so I can pay you rent if you want and I will buy my food didn't Mom tell you"

"she did but that isn't any of her business this is my house Rory" he yells "So this is what will happen you will give me half of every paycheck." he smiles thinking he did something.

"Okay," I shrug.

Not getting the reaction he wanted he grits his teeth hissing under his breath"Well how much do you make then"

"a month" I get out a paper to go some quick math. "bout 4,500" I look over his eyes wide.

"bullshit" he snaps throwing whatever was close causing me to jump. "what do you really make" I shake my head handing him the paper. "there is no fucking way you make that much"

"on a good month yeah I would" I nod backing up not sure what he wanted me to say. "I do okay for myself, I don't get why you are so mad"

"Because I won't tolerate lying" he yells. My mom walked in just as confused as I was. "so how much" his face slowly turning red with rage. "an hour how much"

"twenty-five minus like 20%"

"Bullshit" He yells realizing his ego was hurt. He didn't want to believe I made so much. Even though it felt good to know I bruised his elated ego it was fucking terrifying.

"Fifteen" I blurt out saying the lowest but most believable number I could think of.

"there see why didn't you just say that hmm." smiling satisfied "No need to lie to me Rory, now I should expect about thirteen hundred right?" he asks and I nod not being able to move. It was like every muscle in my body was so tense that if you pointed a gun at me I wouldn't be able to move. The terror that filled me was too intense. He fixes himself to hide the rage fit he just had. "now I need to get going I love you both" He goes over to my mom kissing her head. "I'll be home later" before leaving. My eyes were wide as I looked over at my mom who was just as frozen as I was. What the fuck was that. I've never seen him act like that the whole time I've known him. Sure he was a horrible person but the shift of emotion was baffling. If he got mad it would take a long time for him to cool down we would hear about it all day but just smile say I love you then walk off. That was horrifying it's like a psychopath was just yelling at me. I go over to the broken object that he threw to clean. Mom springing in action as well. While cleaning up trying to help her with housework both of us kept quiet.

"what time did you get home" she asks while I help her with the dishes.

"like four" I mutter. She nods and glances over.

"don't you have work tonight" I nod "Honey go get some rest it's almost noon" I look at her. "don't worry I won't tell. As long as you are working he doesn't have to know that I do the housework by myself you are doing your part."

"I wasn't lying," I tell her my voice meek.

"I know, I'm proud of you. Doing what you love and doing so well. Jokes on him in the end though." she chuckles I look over her smile real not like when I first saw her when I got here. That's how she made it. Every time he got things wrong or showed his ass in front of people it filled her with the same sick joy of finally someone sees him for the bastard he is and how he isn't as tough as he seems, so fragile. Even though that fear plagued the back of her mind the fear that made it to where she would feel this joy in private. I knew this feeling too well the only hope for her was if she did what I did. She didn't have the resources though. No family to run back to. I won't leave no matter if it is worse than it was. I will stay and never leave her alone like I did again, if I do leave it will be with her going with me I vow that.

[polyamorous-elevenv2]

I felt like writing angst, so here’s lumax hurt/comfort drabble for you, loves.

Words: 736

-

“Hey, hey, talk to me here.” Lucas’ soft voice interrupted Max’s spiral of pathetic thoughts. She was lying on the hospital bed, looking at the ceiling, not being able to move or feel anything in her body. It was annoying and if she had more water in her system, she would cry angry tears, but because she was still exhausted and dehydrated, she could only stare at the ceiling, hoping it won’t stare back at her this time. Without Vecna around, that is.

“But it’s stupid. And… not that important, anyway.” She sighed, hearing her groggy, hoarse voice. She wasn’t supposed to sound like that. The only thing keeping her talking was the doctor, who said that talking would make her voice and throat better with time. She swallowed hard before speaking. “I’m just emotional, that’s all.”

“MadMax.” Was all that Lucas said, but Max could see in her imagination his puppy-like eyes, begging her to open up to him. It’s the sight that would probably annoy her long ago, but now, she wished she was able to see it again. And she didn’t want to open up, not really, not to Lucas or anyone else. After everything that happened, she was just really fucking tired. 

But she felt helpless and vulnerable, so she thought: fuck it. Just this one time.

“Just- Just don’t laugh.” She said finally, gathering her courage before hearing him hum in agreement. “I just- I had that stupid dream that maybe- in some future or whatever, I would be able to, you know, walk down the isle on ou- my wedding day.” She corrected herself, not wanting to be too vulnerable at once, and although she was pretty sure Lucas did catch that, he didn’t comment or laugh, so she continued. “But here I am. Everything will be known in the future, weeks, months, I don’t even know, and right now, all I can do is lay here, and- and I can’t even turn my head to look at you. It’s- I feel so weak and helpless and angry, and I, I can’t do anything about it, Lucas. It’s tiring.”

She still couldn’t cry or move to look at him, so she did the only thing she could - lick her lips, trying to wet them, if only a little. It was better than just staring at the ceiling, but God, was it pathetic as hell. Her thoughts were a mess. Max knew Lucas enough to know that he wouldn’t just leave her alone - he said that much, just after she woke up a few days ago - but part of her was still scared that after hearing her helpless vulnerable self, he will just walk away. And that made that whole experience even scarier than it already was for her.

But before she could say something again, try to joke or mock him maybe, Lucas’ face came into her view. He wasn’t grinning, and she could tell by the bags under his eyes that he was tired, but… but she saw very clearly that bright, genuine smile on his face, and that overwhelming love in his eyes, that still could make Max’s heart flutter, even after so long of not being together.

“It’s not stupid.” His voice firm, as he slowly lowered himself to her face, and gave her a peck on the cheek, keeping his lips a little longer on her skin than necessary. “You can do it. I know you can. You will be able to walk and dance, and kick asses in no time! And, after all, hey. You’re my MadMax. You’ve already rocked my world with your badassery, so I’m sure you can do it again.” 

Max felt a lump form in her throat, seeing his grin and hearing those words. Lucas was so good for her, too good, really. But he was her rock, and she knew that he will be there for her no matter what.

Feeling emotional, Max was now grateful, that she wasn’t able to cry.

“Y,You are so, stupid, Stalker.” She said, trying to hide her affection with playful insult, knowing that Lucas will understand her anyway. And she didn’t say that words, yet, she couldn’t do it just now, but hoped that she could deliver that two important words to Lucas with her smile and her eyes alone—the appreciation of just being with her all this lonely time.

I love you.

[ugghrr]

I’d like to share a little story I wrote.

(Feel free to share your opinion)

Long ago, two tribes, the Kartvelians and the Xanthas, lived next to each other. And even though they settled close, the neighboring tribes had nothing in common.

They didn’t speak the same language, unable to understand each other, and while Xanthas’s territory was colossal due to being largely populated, Kartvelians were immersed in a green but small area of very sparse population.

Despite the differences, they managed to live peacefully until one day the Xanthas Tribe created a rather interesting tradition.

Every time a child would be born, the parents would have to bury its umbilical cord under the tallest tree nearby, as it would guarantee a healthy life for the newborn.

The problem occurred when the trees stopped growing and the Xanthas got scared of facing depopulation. Kartvelians,however, lived on a territory surrounded by the largest trees known to mankind, so the Xanthas Tribe decided to invade their space, and as a gift, they even considered mating with the smaller tribe to help them grow.

But these tribes didn’t speak the same language, so there was no way of explaining their intentions to one another. Which is why the Xanthas people decided to use intimidation, which was a tactic they utilized to scare animals before hunting them down. They took the sticks made from wood and proceeded on their way.

Unlike Xanthas, Kartvelians preached peace and thought it came from dismissing concepts of greed, ownership, or violence. So when the neighboring tribe came into their territory, throwing them out of their homes, killing men, and taking women as hostages, they were completely distraught.

For months, the tribe tried to keep peace and come to an understanding, but to no avail. And just when they thought that all hope was gone, a strange phenomenon changed the course of their fate. The Xanthas Tribe mostly forced Kartvelians to go hunting and would only eat the food brought back by their hunters. They still made sure to have the best huntsmen from their tribe follow them along to keep watch.

During one of those hunting trips, as the hunters sat in silence, waiting for the prey to keep its guard down, one of the Kartvelians started speaking in his language. It was loud enough for the prey to hear, but that wasn’t the key part of this story. The man’s words sounded peculiar.

His words carried out pitches in rhythm, and he kept saying the same words over and over again:

" დამიბრუნე ჩემი უფლება,

მომეცი თავისუფლება."

The last word seemed unfamiliar to the Kartvelians as well, but that day turned out to be when the word “freedom” was created. The man continued repeating these words with sound, and the Xanthas men didn’t know what to do. It was so foreign that they got scared.

People have always been scared of the unknown. So they did the first thing that came to mind.

The men took nearby rocks and started throwing them at the singing man, who till his last breath kept saying the word "თავისუფლება". And with his last breath, complete silence took over. They didn’t catch anything that day and went back empty-handed.

Xanthas punished the supervisors and didn’t let them go hunting again.

Meanwhile, Kartvelian hunters started spreading the word about the man who died and how they thought Xanthas were scared of him. Due to the small population, the word spread fast, and Kartvelians came up with a plan.

One day, every single tribe member—men, women, children, and the elderly—gathered together and started chanting the same words the dead man had said.

Xanthas became confused. They tried to intimidate them again, waving carved sticks and screaming back, but Kartvelians voice was so loud they couldn’t overpower it.

Gathering enough courage, the main hunters even came close to the invaders, putting their chests against the sharp weapons. So having nothing else to do and being scared and intimidated themselves, the Xanthas Tribe stepped down and went back to their territory.

You may be wondering why I am telling this story in English. I am simply relishing the luxury of being able to speak with the rest of the world in a language that unites us all.

And if you ever hear the word “თავისუფლება", know that it may not always be easy to obtain, but sometimes you can try without any weapons or bloodshed.

[ntimapreusser]

i was born on a boisterous ~red-white-and blue~ summer day with many soulmates to one day meet.

a plethora of potentials.

i’ve found a lot of them.

my friends whose arms are my life rafts. my mother. the women who have buoyed me. the babies i have mothered. our cats. japanese katsu curry on a cold night.

you. 

when we found each other ~ kids suspended on land in the middle of the sea ~ i’m not sure we were soulmates, just yet.

my soul barely developed. a whole life not yet lived. 

albeit fragmented, the deepest parts of my inner knowing ~ was sure you wore the eyes

of my one-day-daughters.

because of the desolation within myself, loving you felt emergent. 

as i’ve aged and chipped away at my own spirit ~ the more love i have unearthed for you.  

i have discovered the work of creating a soulmate is stars aligned AND persistent choice.  

written in galaxies AND willed into existence.

growing up made it so. parenting our children made it so. crumbling and rebuilding when it felt like the ashes of us were slipping through our god damn fingers made it so.

—

our therapist told us to begin having conversations with the teenagers we once were. she says we were so young; the pinky promises made, so massive

consequently, there were areas that we skipped over. there were places we missed. there are parts of us that were stopped in time,

stunted/stagnant, 

intimacy rushed through. 

so together, we bring our inner kids to the table each morning for breakfast. we lay out all the pieces before them and ask what we’ve forgotten,

we ask where it hurts.

together, we resurrect our wonder and whimsy. we tell them of sorrow accumulated & our strength & courage to deconstruct.

they’re devastated by the little deaths of themselves they see in us now.

we tell them they are not graves, but alters that we worship.

we bear them our testimony of self compassion. 

i remind her that she can set down the embarrassment she carries for having a cautious timeline, i forgive her for being scared to live

you’ll tell him he will save his own life when he takes medicine for his ancient, foreboding pain

(you win exactly 2 cool points with your sick tats and lego collection)

we lose a few points when we tell them to find God in all the places the church tells them not to look

we promise to service the grief they can’t even bear to notice right now

we lick their wounds

and now hand in hand with the children inside of us — we teach them how to dismantle and they teach us how to sculpt. 

we build bridges over the gaps while we kiss each others foreheads again.

we lace our fingers and look into each others eyes and live without the urgency we inherited as kids.

in our stillness, in our silence,

in our giggly sleepovers and our ~ somehow both stupid and insightful~ kaleidoscope conversation — forging new paths.

being known.

tenderly weeding the Garden of Us.

beginning again.

when the sun warms us in the morning, i vow to find new ways to love you

to hear you,

to see you,

unburied, unhurried

without altering, without expectation.

slowly, i will discover you.

i will savor you.

i will take my time.

i will not demand harvest before I sow. i will keep my eyes upright in gratitude while i gather.

i will witness you, reverently.

i will be unafraid to hold the holy pieces of both of us that we swore we would never be.

i will cherish the way your smile meets your sparkling sea glass eyes as they still find their way

to me

across a room.

i will kneel at the alter

of all of the people we were that carried us here.

our sacred journey.

the years it took, crawling on our knees to finally find the soulmate inside of ourselves

(thank God for our scarred skin)

so we could knit a soulmate in one another

my darling. my love. my eternal summer.

my patient home.

i will sink my teeth into our life together.

i will not hurry through the miracle that is

you and me

being here,

eating breakfast,

sharing a lifetime.