#he did NOT appreciated that throw sorry luna

[farmer-beau-inbox]

Throws a croissant at your head

-Cupid

“OW! Alright, that was uncalled for...”

“I was about to eat that.”

[hurshibal]

“What do you mean old in human terms? I'm literally just 28!”

“Isn't that old in your lifespan?”

“Uhm, No?!”

“Then why is your hair white? According to Master Jingliu, short lived species have white hair when they're old! I'm different because I'm a long-lived species!”

“Well, I'm also different. I'm not a normal person at all- if that is your standard of old, then why is my lashes white instead of the usual black?”

“...Huh?”

Yingxing laughed at Young Jing Yuan's face. The look on is face is clearly amusing, “Normal humans don't have eyes like me as well. Say, Jing Yuan, what color are my eyes?”

Jing Yuan huffed, “Pink, obviously!”

“Wrong.”

Jing Yuan is clearly offended. “What!? But that's pink!”

“What is this noise?” A grumpy, and cute Dan Feng joined their little bickering and they finally remembered they were walking towards the Imbibitor Lunae's own library. “Might I remind you two to keep quiet when in this part of the luofu?”

“Sorry, High Elder!”

“Sorry, Dan Feng.”

Yingxing's voice is obviously much softer now, and it is evident in the way Jing Yuan is looking at him with the stinky eye as if to say to his face that he has 'favoritism', even though Dan Feng already said that they have to keep quiet.

“What is it that made you so frustrated?”

“Yingxing is who,”

Dan Feng raised an eyebrow, Yingxing knew he heard every word they've said due to his draconic nature and is obviously just looking at him to confirm that his words were true. Damn, Yingxing smiled at him brightly, he certainly knew I never lie to him, huh?

“I have a natural white hair and not-pink eyes-” he gave him a look, “that I know you've heard, which is also not natural for my species.”

“What's your eye color if you don't see it as pink!?”

“Really, where did the pink even came from!?”

“Silence.”

Yingxing felt his knees weaken a little bit by that voice, and Dan Feng obviously knew the effect, if his little smirk and eyes weren't telling enough.

“Ehem, Uh, It's not pink. My eyes actually have no color-”

“What?”

“Let me finish, Jing Yuan!” He says, exasperated. Really, children has no qualms about throwing tantrums and questions in the middle of a cenversation. Menaces, all of them! “And since it is transparent, You can see through my iris, or retina, or whatever it is that makes eyes have colors, I forgot. Point is, you don't see the color of my eyes, you're seeing the color of the blood in my eyes, through my eyes. Hence 'pink'.”

“What?” Jing Yuan looks a little disturbed and fascinated. Dan Feng looked surprise, which is adorable in Yingxing's opinion. Non-Fatal Diseases and Conditions that humans have are unknown to the people of the luofu, that's why even The Imbibitor Lunae is surprised.

“And that, my friends, is why I am not old despite my hair color. This thing is called Albinism.”

“Does it have any effect anywhere on your body, or just your eyes?” Jing Yuan asked.

“Hell, yeah. Can't you see?” Yingxing spread out his arms (fatui harbinger style haha). “My skin is paler than a sick person, and this is my normal skin. I have white hair, lashes and these eyes.”

“What is albinism?”

Dan Feng asked. His curious face is so adorable. Yingxing might have fallen even more at that moment.

“It is the absence of pigment, or color, in the biology of a species. So, not only humans have this but also our animals. It is genetic, which means somewhere from my bloodline, someone looks exactly like me. My mother certainly does.”

Dan Feng hid his satisfied curiousity in a hum, and proceed to just linger his gaze at Yingxing, as if there was a newfound fascination to Yingxing's appearance that made him want to appreciate him all over again. Like reading a book you loved in a new, or different perspective.

Jing Yuan, however, is not subtle at his excitement. “I am going to tell this to Master.” He said, then ran off to wherever Jing Liu was at the moment.

Of course, once he's gone, Yingxing is all over his Yinyue Jun. “Is your fascinating appearance a condition as well? I've heard no normal human is capable of bearing such beauty.”

“You flatter me.”

••••

Just a thought, like what if Yingxing always had White Hair, and Red Eyes? Like imagine the misunderstanding! Long-lived species don't normally see any white hairs from a human/short lived species until they're old! So, like, what if Yingxing is still 25-30 something yrs old, but he has natural pure, white hair? ofc with #xingyue . just because.

[ask-healthy-light]

But when Cadance finally managed to fall asleep, even though the Palace fell silent once again, her mind had only grown louder, and was flooded with doubts about herself, concerns for her Guests, and countless worries for her Family; and she tossed around for what felt like hours, until she woke up in a panic, and found Shining was holding her hoof with tears in his eyes, sitting next to the bed.

Before Shining could even ask Cadance whether she was all right, what thoughts tormented her, or if there was anything he could do to help, a bittersweet smile grew upon her face as she dove into his arms, and held him tightly in her embrace; but when she laid her head on his chest, and stained her face and his coat with tears, neither of the two uttered a word as Cadance's breathing slowed down.

Only when she felt able to take a deep breath did Cadance quietly whisper a 'thank you' to Shining, before she begged him for his help, or support, or even just to be a listening ear to her troubles, since she could not sleep anymore; and she cried harder as she pulled Shining even closer, and said that she did not understand why her mind would show her such horrible imagery of her harmed Family.

Though Shining tried to soothe Cadance by promising her that he and their Daughters were all right, and she was merely exhausted and stressed, she shook her head, got up from their bed, and said that these images felt different; and she begged him to join her to Luna for help, since she never again wanted to see the horrors she saw, nor feel the weight of her lifeless Family lying in her embrace.

At the same time, outside the Palace, after they had watched the stars for a while, Light yawned as they turned to Luna and Nox, and quietly asked them if they were all right, to which the two merely slowly nodded as they rubbed their eyes; and Light smiled, and thanked the two Princesses, for they would never have seen the often unseen stars in the sky, had they not brought them outside instead.

But although they did not want to stop watching the stars, since they were struggling to keep their eyes opened, Light suggested to head back inside and to bed, which Nox and Luna both agreed to; and together, the trio returned to the Palace, and sighed in relief to know it was only a stone's throw away, as they would probably have fallen asleep on their way back if they had to walk much further.

All three had to muffle their chuckle as they stepped inside, where Light had to shield their eyes, and asked Luna and Nox for a moment to re-adjust to how bright the hallways of the Palace were; but Light let out a deep sigh as their smile fell, and as they joined the two Princesses, they lamented over how incredible it was to see the countless stars which they would most likely never see again.

When they reached Nox's room, she stepped inside for a moment to grab Light's blade and Luna's map, though when she closed the door, the trio stood around, quietly waiting for each other to speak up, as they felt it unkind not to walk the others to their rooms; but Light warmly smiled, and solemnly bowed to Luna and Nox as they wished them a good rest of their night, when Luna asked them to wait.

Before Light turned around to return to their room by themselves, the Princess of the Night thanked them for the kind words they spoke while they were outside, as she truly appreciated their thoughts about her dark night; but as her eyes started to well up, Luna told them that the same words deeply touched her as well, and she knew not for how long she had desired to hear someone say this to her.

As Light's warm smile grew brighter, and their face became stained with tears, Luna gently embraced them, and shakily exhaled, when Nox joined her Mother and Friend in their embrace as well, for she, too, felt greatly comforted by what they said; and the three beings, who all preferred not to dwell on their pasts, closely held, and quietly thanked each other for everything they had done for them.

Their hearts ached terribly when a familiar, yet changed voice spoke up, and weakly asked them:

"I'm s-sorry, Your Highness… Pr-Princess… Auntie L-Luna, I need your help, please…"

(Thanks for reading! And if you enjoyed, please reblog! Thanks in advance!)

Send an ask or request! | Start at the beginning! | Next part!

Featuring: Nox Lunarwing from @nox-lunarwing

[sarahfeliciam]

The Ultimatum Ch 39

Chapter 39

Remus spent the next few days focusing intently on his connection with his daughter. Though unable to feel or hear every emotion, she was certainly more responsive and he was ever more attentive. 

His hope was to attempt to intercept anything from Greyback, should he hear it, and the reclusive state he’d pulled himself into focusing on this also had Tonks donning saddened brown hair and less jovial quips than normal. 

It was three days before the full moon, as Remus was sitting with a cup of hot cocoa and the latest Prophet, that he heard Emeline’s conversation with a friend and his heart broke in two. 

How had he never sat her down to discuss this?

•

“So not everyone sees Thestrals?” Emeline asked Luna curiously, skipping her own stone over the water’s surface. 

Luna attempted hers, which went slightly further than Emeline’s, (granted, she was further in the water, her pants rolled up high).

“No,” she replied, as dreamily as ever. “Only those who have seen death see the Thestrals.”

“Oh.” Emeline’s response was small and brief. She pondered for some time before saying anything additional. “W-who have you -“

“-my mother.” Luna nodded with an assuring smile. “She was an incredibly gifted witch, but one day one of her experiments went horribly wrong. I’ll never forget my dad walking in.”

Emeline swallowed thickly, dreading the following question. 

“Who did you see?” 

There it was.

At Grimmauld Place, Remus shook his head with tears filling his eyes. 

She had watched Florence die? 

“My mother, too.” Emeline whispered. “She died right before my second year of school.” 

Luna nodded. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Was it-“

“-particularly scarring? For a twelve year old, sure.” She shrugged, kicking a rock to the side of the stream. “She’d been sick for a while; a muggle illness. Her heart was failing. The more I learn, I think it was broken.”

Remus’ tears were flowing freely now. 

“Was it peaceful, then?” 

Luna’s questions knew no bounds. 

But it was somewhat refreshing for Emeline. It was nice not to feel taboo or judgement. 

“It was.” She nodded, a sad smile pulling at her lips. “Although, she said she loved me and then said ‘promise me’. She passed away before she made me promise whatever she was asking.”

“That must be hard; not knowing.”

“It is. I would’ve promised her anything.” She said quietly, staring out at the lake. I hope she’s proud.”

Luna smiled wider and stepped over to Emeline, standing close enough that they were shoulder to shoulder. 

“I’m certain she is.”

She is, darling Remus agreed. 

 Emeline let her tears flow then, too. 

•

Later on, Emeline found herself in the courtyard watching Fred and George with the rest of a majority of students. They had just perfected their handheld fireworks and were throwing balls of colorful flame back and forth, with various sparkles and pops that lit up the youngest students’ eyes. 

A moment of peace was appreciated, but as soon as she thought it, it was over. 

Umbridge’s sickening laughter broke them from their fun as they watched her obliterate Fred and George’s designs with a flick of her wand.

“Old hag.” Emeline groaned under her breath to George as they exited the courtyard together.

•

Next thing they knew, there was a Proclamation on Umbridge’s growing wall of orders that specifically banned Weasley’s joke products, which was a right punch in the gut to the twins. 

The many rules she was outlying ranged from dismal to even worse. She was slowly gaining a monopoly over the entire school, and the Prophet was naturally publishing and singing her praises. 

What Remus didn’t get from his daughter’s emotions or words, came straight from the source. He couldn’t say he was shocked at the Prophet’s portrayal of Umbridge, but he was certainly worried. 

As he poured over the newest clipping at the dining room table, Tonks came up behind him with an excited dance of glee and he smiled up at her. 

“You’re in a grander mood than usual.”

“Well,” she searched his eyes. “Have you seen this week’s guard duty list?”

He sighed quietly and shook his head. “I can’t say I have. Well, with-“

“- I know. They’ve given you two days recovery but on day three: you, me, Department of Mysteries! I guess they thought it’d be good for you to have a second set of hands after the moon.” 

Her smile was unwavering and Remus tried to feign excitement, but the only thing worse than being unsure what this charade of Tonks’ exactly was, had to be not being in the best shape for her to be around. 

What she was eagerly anticipating, he slowly began to dread.

“That’s wonderful. Happy to have you with me that night.” 

He must have been convincing enough, as Tonks squealed once more and gripped his shoulder excitedly before trotting off back into the sitting room.

Remus sunk back into his chair, rubbing his temples. 

He never remembered courtship being this difficult. (If that was indeed what this was or what he’d even allow).

Things flowed so easily with Florence. She was close friends with most of the Marauders, however there was always something deeper between her and Remus. 

Lily pointed it out first, in fourth year, and Remus found it hard to believe. By this time, his condition was common knowledge to the other Marauders and their immediate friends, like Marlene McKinnon, Florence Whitticker and Emmeline Vance. Lily was naturally grandfathered in long before the other girls found out. 

Florence and Emmeline were the best of friends, and regularly trailed behind Marlene who’d introduce them all. Marlene always had eyes for Sirius, Emmeline was indifferent to all of them other than friendship, and Florence will swear up and down that for her, it was love at first sight with Remus. 

When he finally allowed his resolve to crumble and love to blossom, it blossomed quickly. Before he knew it, they were graduating, hoping to be wed, and their baby girl was on the way. 

He often wondered if their old friend spent any time with his daughter, though she too, was gone now. 

The truth was, he was afraid of love again, in any capacity. 

He’d watched Emeline for months before he could open his mouth to tell her the truth and after things went so horribly south with Florence, who truly loved him, how could he trust someone else to not come down to the same ultimatum one day? 

Learning a new love interest, their family, establishing that trust, getting past the lycanthropy at all - well, it felt impossible. 

Sometimes, it even felt less than worth it. 

He had Emeline, and some days he still couldn’t even believe that. His life was full, whether he loved again or not, yet he still wondered.

Tonks was vastly different from him at present, but not so different from him as a teenager. He had an affinity with mischief, even if the other Marauders took lead. 

Remus always enjoyed light-hearted pranks and a good laugh, but his meekness arose surrounding his ‘furry little problem’. He was unsure he could even call it ‘meekness’, but he certainly quieted down and followed orders well, hoping desperately in his school years to be liked. 

Deep down, he always worried nobody cared for him and that he was the punchline of constant ridicule behind the scenes. This was neither true nor even close to it, but his feelings still persisted.

As he graduated, was forced away from the love of his life and daughter, and lost countless jobs due to lycanthropy, Remus began to feel more and more deflated. 

It was hard to fake happiness after a while, and then he realized one day that he’d stopped being happy altogether. His friends were dead or imprisoned, his fiancé was gone and he’d never know his little girl… happiness was gone.

Until two years ago.

As Emeline and Sirius bounded back into his life, a spark Remus didn’t even know how much he missed, ignited. Life was beginning to feel joyful again, and then Voldemort returned with Cedric’s death.

Despite not being opposed to love, it was hard to manage with the looming threat of Greyback over his daughter and the impending war. 

Things were darkening; could they find light, yet? 

He was sure of one thing: Tonks was patient and incredibly kind, two things Remus found invaluable. 

He decided then that he would not shut the door unless she did, however emotionally terrifying that fact was.

•

In Emeline’s dreams, he taunted her once more. 

She tried desperately to wake herself and evade him this time, but it was no use.

“I can give you everything he cannot. Immunity. Loyalty. It will not hurt, not if you don’t run from your identity.”

“I trust my father.” 

Emeline walked toward Greyback in the shadows. She could just make out his yellowing eyes behind the tree limbs. 

“You’re foolish.” He said cooly, stepping out and towering above her. “He will never grant you your deepest wish- to be like him. He will die in this war and you will lose your life of his fault. It’s quite harsh if you ask me.” 

He grabbed her waist with sharp claws, though he was not transformed. Shoving her against the Whomping Willow, she grimaced in pain as she hit the bark and Greyback chuckled. 

“You’d be so strong if you let me change your life. That’s one way you can be different from him. He’s weak.” 

“He’s stronger than you’ll ever be,” she spat toward his feet. “I would never let you.” 

He grabbed her neck now, holding her in place and she hid her whimper as best she could. 

Dad - her soul called it; her heart was racing.

“He won’t come for you now. The truth is, you mean nothing to him.”

Pup, it isn’t true - his whole spirit called out to her. She felt his desperation to get to her, though he could not. 

It’s mental, be strong 

She struggled frantically against Greyback’s grip as he sneered.

“Stay out of this, Lupin.”

Remus awarded Greyback no response and focused all of his energy onto his daughter, calming himself as much as possible in an attempt to calm her. 

He cannot hurt you, Emma

The name her mother called her shot through her heart like an electrical shock when she heard it leave her dad’s lips. 

Hot tears fell onto her cheeks and she ripped her wand out of her back pocket, stunning Greyback in one swift motion. 

“My father will always protect me.” She shoved his face to the side with a muddy kick to his cheek. “I will kill you before you ever have authority over him or I.”

•

Emmeline woke with a start and steadied her breathing as she looked around her dorm. 

She found her wand, casting ‘Lumos’ quietly and grabbing George’s flannel he’d left with her close to her chest. Her heart was beginning to slow as she closed her eyes and breathed in sync with it. 

Darling, you’ve done well

Why is this happening? 

I wish I knew

Snape?

Please

In the morning she thought quietly as she drifted off to sleep once more. 

[sevasey51]

Hi, sorry to bother you. I just wanted to ask if you could write a oneshot about Baby Luna's first words.Thank you💕💕

Baba

Just a little oneshot about Luna saying her first word!

It was a normal day in the Evans’ house, Chris was off from filming, Luna was being Luna and getting used to walking since she recently got that skill down.

Holding on to the couch she can walk but hey she’s walking and Chris couldn’t be more than happy now he just needs to hear her first word and he’ll be so happy! But he knows it happens when it happens.

Toddling along the couch one hand gripped onto it, the other waving around for balance. Babbling to herself Chris glances over at her, smiling ear to ear at how sweet she looks with her now found independence.

“Baba - bababaah” she babbles whilst focusing on walking over to her dada on the couch who is reading a script looking up at her every once in a while.

“What did you say bubba?” Chris asked curiously

“Baba” Luna giggled pointing to her bottle on the coffee table

“Baba? - oh my god! Luna your said your first word!” He got up laughing ecstatically picking her up too and throwing her up in the air, luna laughing at her dad laughing too.

“Baba! Baba!” she giggled after chris put her down.

“So is it safe to say Luna wants a baba?” He asks his still giggling daughter.

“Ya baba! Baba!” She shouted giggling as she spoke.

Now let’s just say chris had to ask her if she really wanted a baba all the time now, because that’s what she said for a week straight until she learnt apple sauce was a thing ❤️

Thank you for requesting this anon! It wasn’t a bother at all if you have anymore ideas please send them in! :)

And a very big thank you to @anotherfuckingmarvelfanaccount for helping me with the idea of what word Luna should’ve said because I thought of one too many words.

taglist!

@mcuamerica @scarlettproof @lilithneedslove @angelbaby-fics @angelbabydoll28 @ace-of-gay @chrisevansonly @chrissyevanss @sarahrogersevans @buckybarnesandmarvel @writersblog20 @youre-amazing-say-it @ellerosie2332 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @imyourbratzdoll @anotherfuckingmarvelfanaccount @mrvlxgrl @stuckysgirl27 @nana1000night @marvelstarker-mha98 @full-timephoebefanatic @hulkstacos @jessybarnes @thatsamericasass24 @haleyhunlibrary @haleybr

if you guys would like to be added to my tag list please do comment or just send in an ask :)

Reblogs, feedback and asks are appreciated <3

[onthesandsofdreams]

Silent Love

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Morpheus x f!Reader Summary: 'You're looking, but you don't see.' Teleute's voice softly echoing in his mind, not to mention the look she had given him after he had spoken about the newest movie you two had watched. Words: 1669 Notes: For my sister, @mousedetective. Also, a small fyi, the ice creams that I’ve mentioned are very much real (and very, very tasty). Arrullo de Luna = Cooing from the Moon (Peach, mango, pecan and strawberry), Oracion de Amor = Love Prayer (Almond, peach, rose petals and marshmallows) and yes, they were chosen on purpose.  Prompt(s): #16.- You're looking, but you don't see.'  from @fictober-event

Read @ AO3

Morpheus stood still, 'You're looking, but you don't see.' Teleute's voice softly echoing in his mind, not to mention the look she had given him after he had spoken about the newest movie you two had watched.

What had she meant? Frowning, he recalled the last time you two had been together, it had been a simple get together between friends, to watch a movie you had been insistent that he ought to watch. He would had to admit that Gravity had been a good movie. You had been kind enough to offer foodstuff and drinks and it had been a quiet night simply watching the movie and enjoying each other's company.

But he knew that Teleute was trying to tell him something without outright having to say it.

So, he went over your most recent of interactions. One of them were in the park, where you two found yourselves feeding the birds. Conversation had steered - or rather you had steered - into fashion, thinking nothing of it, he had commented about experiencing the fashions of the centuries every time he visited with Hob.

You had stopped feeding the birds, turned to him and given him a long, critical look. "I am sure you looked amazing. I would have loved to see you in that fashion."

He had stared at you and shrugged. "I could always change my looks, perhaps during that costume party you are so fond off, and then you could truly make a judgement."

You had laughed, "Halloween party, Morpheus. And yeah, that would be fun. I might even let you win the contest that I throw, you know, just for sheer historical accuracy. Think on it, extra candy!"

* Another of your most recent interactions had been when he had rescued you from some drunken men. You and your friends had gone to a bar, to dance and relax a bit from the stress of work when a couple of men had all but cornered you as you came out of the bathroom.

Whatever they had told you, he did not need to know. But he understood the fear in your eyes when he made his way to you. "Excuse me," he had said, easily pushing the men aside and all but turning himself into a wall in front of you. "I am sorry for being late, darling. But I am here now. Are these men bothering you?"

"They were just leaving," he had not missed the way your voice was thick with relief. "And now that you're here, perhaps we could go home too, I'm growing a little tired. Just need to say bye to the girls, I'll be right back."

And that had been that, he had made sure you made it home safely. You clinging to his arm the whole way home, "Thank you," you had told him. "For the rescue in there. I was ready to panic."

"I know, I could see the fear in your eyes. I would not stand for it."

"Well, I appreciate it, Morpheus. I really, really do." Your face and voice had gone soft. "I appreciate and I'm thankful for your help, I owe you one."

"There is no need for repayment." He had told you. "You were in distress and I would not stand for it."

"Nevertheless, I insist. If you ever need my help, I will give it." You had taken his hand in yours and squeezed it tight, your whole face solemn. "I mean it."

*

The next one had been when you had insisted in taking him out for ice cream. "C'mon Morpheus, this shop is the best! They have such unique flavorings and I'm sure we will find something for you. Specially, something you have not tried."

He had indulged you, it was ice cream, how different it could be? Turns out, a lot more than what he had been expecting. You had explained that the owners were Mexican, and they took inspiration from there to create their flavors and always offered a small tasting bite if the customer was unsure as to what to get.

You had settled for one called 'Oracion de Amor', and then insisted he try it. "This is delicious Morpheus, you have to try it!"

He had indulged you, and he could not helped but agreed that it was. When he had told you so, you had beamed at him. He however, had picked one called 'Arrullo de Luna'. In the end, the two of you had enjoyed the shop and the ice cream. And now he had another place to bring his sister to.

*

Another had been when you had insisted in dragging him to an amusement park. First thing on your agenda? The highest rollercoaster there was. "You loose all fear when you conquer the worst," you had told him. "And I intent to."

And so, he had found himself sitting besides you as you both waited for the ride to begin. "This metal's too flimsy. Are you sure it's safe?"

You had rolled your eyes and gently slapped his arm. "Perfectly so. These amusement parks are well maintained. We're not dying - no, don't give me that face - here today. That would put such a damper in the mood."

He could not deny that you were excited about the whole thing, even more so when at the highest part before the drop. But of course, the very moment when the ride dropped, he had not been able from stopping himself and placing a protective arm in front of you. You didn't seem to mind.

"That was amazing, wasn't it?" You were practically vibrated with excitement and he could not help but to smile at your wide eyes and clear delight.

"It wasn't as terrible as I thought."

"Aha! A small victory, I'll take it."

In the end, the amusement park had not been so bad, despite being crowded and loud. And he had won a rainbow plush unicorn for you after you set your eyes on it. The hug that you had given him would had probably crush bones if he were human, and your eyes were sparkling when you pulled back and said, "Thank you, Morpheus. I'll treasure it. Always."

*

The last one that had happened was when due to his duties, he had been unable to visit you in the waking world and had not had the chance to spend enough time in the Dreaming. And if he had to be honest, he missed your presence a lot more than he had been expecting to. So, he made his mind to visit you as soon as he could.

He had gone directly to your home, a place that you had offered to him whenever he needed some sort of escape. "It's not the Dreaming," you had told him shrugging. "But I would like to think we're friends, and when a friend needs a place to hide, you offer your place. So, you're welcome to let yourself in anytime." And to prove your point, you had given him the keys and the alarm code, "In case you feel like entering like a normal person."

"Would I not be imposing upon you?"

"No. My house is yours, Morpheus." You had looked so very serious. "And you're welcome to make yourself at home whenever - even when I'm not here."

"Thank you."

And when he finally took your offer and visit, he found you reading on your sofa. A blanket thrown on your legs and a steaming mug of coffee on the table next to you. He took a moment to observe you, you looked so at peace and content.

Then, you nearly jumped to the ceiling when you realized that he had come. Your book forgotten, you stood and rushed to hug him, "Morpheus, hi. Welcome, I've missed you!"

"It's good to see you, you have also been missed."

When you pulled back, there was something in your eyes that he had not been able to read well, for you immediately pulled him over to the sofa. "I know you're busy, but I was starting to worry. Would you like anything?"

"Tea is fine, thank you."

You had beamed at him and rushed to your kitchen. When you came back, you offered the tea and asked if he had been well. After reassuring you that he was, in fact, quite well and inquiring about yourself, the two of you had launched into a lively book debate.

That was one of the things he liked about you, how passionate you were. And he welcomed the debate and your different point of view. You two had talked - and you had managed to convinced him to have dinner with you - until you had began yawning. It had been his turn to be amused, "Sleep. We'll see each other in the Dreaming."

"Alright. I'll see you in a bit, Morpheus."

And the lively debates had continued in the Fielder's Green with an impromptu picnic. And something that had struck him had been how regretful you looked at having to leave the Dreaming when you were about to wake up.

What could that...

Oh.

Well, Teleute was right. He was an idiot.

How come had been so blind not to see the love that swam in your eyes? The care and tenderness you offered to him so freely? How he had missed the whole signs that your friendship had shifted to something so much more deep?

And more importantly, how did he feel about it?

He closed his eyes, allowing himself to simply feel... and his eyes snapped open when he realized that he felt the same for you. Well now, that was quite unexpected. Not unpleasant, just unexpected. And he would do his best to court you.

Now, perhaps he could ask his sister about modern courting rituals? Yes, that option was better than having to ask Matthew. Mind made up, he made his way to his gallery, no point in delaying the inevitable, he had already kept you waiting long enough.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Daddy Issues | Draco Malfoy

Wow I’m sorry I didn’t mean to disappear like that Lovelies! Sometimes I forget depression and writers block are a thing until they punch me in the face and force me to go MIA for a hundred years! I guess I’m back? I hope? Fingers crossed? Anyway, I’m sorry this isn’t a TVD fic but I figured Y’all would appreciate something over nothing. I missed you all more than I can say! I hope you enjoy, I love you all!

Description: Draco and y/n are best friends until Draco’s father threatens y/n. She avoids Draco until he confronts her.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: Like none, it’s kinda sad but not really, the only flaw is bad writing

Word count: 3.4k

Tags: Angst, FLUFF

(not my gif, I just love it lol)

Your heart stings from across the courtyard, the gap between you and the blonde boy tangible. For a second you don't know whether or not your heart is even in your chest anymore or if it’s in his hands. In that case your heart is sitting on a bench, sandwiched between Blaise Zabini and Vincent Crabbe. Maybe he isn’t holding your heart, though, maybe he is your heart, in which case you’re avoiding your heart’s piercing gaze. 

Your hands twitch at your sides, itching to grab his or to twist through his silky hair or do anything other than lay idle when he is only mere steps away from you. Your hands ache to touch him and usually you would be doing just that: clinging to his robes or twisting the rings around on his fingers or simply tangling your own fingers with his slender ones. Your hands feel painfully empty without him to hold on to. 

That makes sense though, he’s your best friend after all. You’re rarely ever spotted less than five feet away from each other. Everyone at Hogwarts can see how utterly entwined you are, every part of him wrapped around your finger and every part of you sitting precisely in the palm of his hand. You orbit each other, drawn in by a gravity that the rest of the student body can’t deny.

Right now, though, that gravity is being tested and everyone feels a little bit like they’re floating away. 

Draco sits exactly seventeen feet and four inches away from you. You can feel his eyes on the back of your head, like lasers, searing into your black and gold jumper and refusing to look away. It burns but you embrace it, taking any contact, even imagined, that you can get from him. Even if it hurts. You would gladly burn for the blonde Slytherin if it made him happy. This doesn’t make him happy, though, being ignored by the girl that commands his entire life. You know that, but you also know that it’s for the best. 

You run your hands through your hair, tugging on the strands relentlessly and closing your eyes. You see his father, the tall, grim man, and replay the conversation you had in your head. 

“He has a bright future ahead of him, y/n.” 

Lucious had backed you into a corner, both metaphorically and literally, the stone of the castle biting harshly into your skin, “I know that, sir.”

He stood tall, menacingly, like he was bigger than the castle itself, “he doesn’t have time for nonsense, y/n.”

Your hands trembled, the cold of the dungeon nipping at them fiercely, “he’s very bright, Mr. Malfoy, I don’t think I’m slowing him down.”

The neutral, if not cold, expression on his face switched then to one of red hot anger, “did I ask what you think? It’s time the two of you separate. He is to be married next year and not to some silly Hufflepuff girl.”

“We’re just friends, sir,” your eyes had long since found the floor.

“Don’t be daft, my son is infatuated with you. If I catch you near him from this day on I will not hesitate to destroy you, do you understand me? Do not speak to him again.”

That was two weeks ago and you haven’t dared to go near him since, spending every waking moment of your spare time in the Hufflepuff common room. You aren’t brave, you didn’t march up to your best friend and tell him that his father threatened to destroy you. You would be lying if you said you even thought about it. The reality of it is that you’re a coward and have iced Draco out in fear of having his father hurt either of you.  

His father’s words still ring in your head. Don’t be daft, my son is infatuated with you. Your heart flutters hard in your chest, your rib cage the only barrier keeping it from finding him across the courtyard. Draco is infatuated with you. Apparently. He hasn’t said so, only his father. Still, you can’t help but hope that it’s true.

But then that makes your chest burn and palms sting again. You aren’t allowed to hope that Draco wants you. You aren’t even allowed to hope that he wants to be your friend. You’re not allowed anywhere near him, let alone allowed to kiss him. Would he even kiss you? Probably not. You tug even harder on your hair, as if pulling each strand out will somehow take the pain away. Don’t be daft.

“Y/n,” gentle hands wrap around your tight fists, “you’re hurting yourself.”

You forgot Luna was there, sitting next to you on the bench, the bench that is seventeen feet and four inches away from Draco. You let the airy Ravenclaw unravel your fingers and hold one of your hands, rubbing circles on the back of your palm. It doesn’t feel the same, her grip is too soft, her fingers too short. Draco’s fingers are longer. 

You shake your head, trying to clear the fog of him from your senses, “sorry, I know I’m not the best company right now.”

Luna only smiles at you and rolls her eyes gently, “I know it’s hard for you right now.”

Of course you told her. You weren’t able to tell Draco so you turned to Luna, your other best friend. You nod your head at the blonde girl, too tired to speak. 

“I think you should tell him though, he looks bloody miserable without you,” your eyes widen as if on their own accord.

You feel dizzy at the thought and not the good kind like when Draco spins you around. No, this is the bad kind of ‘I’m definitely going to throw up’ dizzy. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears rapidly. Thump, thump, thump. It almost sounds like footsteps, angry ones, pounding towards you. That can’t be right.

“I can’t tell him, Luna, you know that.”

A hand lands on your shoulder, warmth spreading through your jumper. You open your mouth, ready to thank Luna for relentlessly comforting you, but close it quickly when a thought hits you. You glance down to your lap, just to double check. There, on your lap rests your hand carefully wrapped up in both of Luna’s. Crap. 

“What can’t you tell me?” It takes everything in you to not let his familiar voice curl around you and pull you further into his touch.

You shift out of his hold, not turning to look at him yet, afraid to see the expression on his face. Would it be anger? Sadness? Disgust? The last one makes your heart drop, the thought of the blonde boy being repulsed by you causing you to curl into yourself slightly. You would take anything from him but that.

You stand curtly, turning to face Draco, all too aware of the lack of space between you and him. Six inches at the most, every breath he takes makes his chest brush yours. You still don’t look up at him, not anywhere ready to meet the eyes of the boy you’ve been avoiding. 

You lock your eyes on his silver and green tie, mumbling to it instead of him, “What makes you think I was talking about you, Draco?”

You finally glance up at him and wish you hadn’t. His eyes, usually a bright blue, are dull and rimmed with red. The bruises under his eyes stand out against his cheeks. He’s always had dark circles but this is extreme. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days, like he hasn’t eaten in days. It’s almost garish, but then again nothing could ever make the Slytherin Prince look anything less than perfect. He looks destroyed, almost as if his father had gotten to him too. You have to stop yourself from reaching out, choosing instead to look away again.

“Are you serious right now? Tell me this is all a joke y/n!” The courtyard goes silent when Draco raises his voice.

You squeeze your fists, the tone of his voice a punch in the gut. He never shouts at you. Draco is never anything but soft around you. Right now, however, he’s seething. No one around you dares to make a sound.

You close your eyes, trying desperately to stop a traitorous flood of tears, “Draco, please don’t do this right now.”

Draco takes a step back, as if your words had shoved him, “if not now then when? You’ve given me no choice! You run every time you see me, you don’t answer my notes. Do you even read them anymore? Can you just explain why you bloody hate me?”

His voice cracks when he says hate, like its acid in his mouth. In any way it’s acid to your ears. You could never hate Draco, it’s very much the opposite actually. You’re painfully in love with him.

“I don’t,” you have to pause to clear your throat, trying to rid the lump, “I could never hate you.”

His hand grasps you chin gently, his rings cold against your skin as he pulls your face up to meet his eyes, “then tell me what’s going on. Please.”

You squeeze your eyes close, sinking into the warmth of his palm for a moment. You can’t remember a time you’ve gone this long without the blonde boy touching you. You can’t stop the tears from trailing down your cheeks and into his palm. You can feel the hitch in his breath as if it had come from your own lungs. You wrap your own hands around his, squeezing his fingers gently before pulling them away from you.

“I can’t, Dra. We can’t do this anymore. I’m,” your voice trembles, your eyes still closed, his hand still locked in yours, “I’m not good for you. We can’t be friends.”

You release his hand, taking a few steps back from the love of your life. This time, though, he doesn’t let you get as far, taking two steps towards you for every step you take away from him. It doesn’t take him long before he’s in front of you again, closer and even more determined. His eyes burn into yours, his hands restless. You know he wants to touch you. At least, you hope he does. You want to.

“Don’t say that,” there’s a strength behind his words, one you have yet to hear until now, “don’t you dare say that! Tell me what’s going on y/n, you need to tell me! I can fix it. I can make it better whatever it is just please tell me. Please, love.”

Love. That’s new. Your heart cracks even more when he says it and maybe that’s because you know you won’t get to hear it again. You wish you could grab the word from his lips and hold on to it. You want to put it in your pocket so at least you can have a part of him, the very best part of him, for when he walked away. But you can’t, so there’s no use in trying. 

“You can’t fix it this time, Draco,” you take another step back and your back hits the rough surface of a tree.

He fills the space between the two of you once more and this time you’re stuck. Your palms continue to sting, reminding you relentlessly how much you need to touch him. You scrunch the hem of your jumper, trying desperately to quell the pain. Your wrists feel like they’re on fire, something you’ve come to realise that means you’re about to have a panic attack. He can't see that happen, you refuse to fall apart in front of him. 

Of course he notices, though. That’s your Draco, he notices everything about you. That’s his job. 

He grabs your face again, stopping you from frantically looking everywhere but him, “of course I can. When have I not fixed your problems? Remember when those Ravenclaws’ were messing with you? I took care of that, didn’t I? And Parkinson? Zabini? I took care of them too. Remember when Snape wouldn’t let you hand in your assignment because you had the flu? And the time you passed out in the stairwell? I fixed those too because I can. Because I wanted to and I do what I want. Now, all I’ve wanted for days is you so if someone said something to you I need you to tell me so I can sort them out and get my best friend back. Now.”

He stares into your eyes the entire time, daring you to turn away. You feel like you can’t breathe, your hands once again wrapped around his but this time clinging for dear life. You’ve been terrified for two weeks and the exhaustion hits you in one, whopping punch to your stomach, the second punch of the day. Without warning your legs give out, all of your weight falling into the blonde who seems to expect it. His arms wrap around you, holding you against his chest for the first time in what feels like ages.

You don’t realise that you’re sobbing until you try to speak, “Dra, I’m so scared. I’m tired,” you grip his robes in your fists, your head falling against his chest, “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, I feel like I’m falling apart.”

He pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you and holding you against him. You can feel the sigh of relief he releases and his heartbeat slowing as if it’s your own. Maybe that’s because yours does the same. For the first time in weeks you’re engulfed in Draco and you cling to him, circling your arms around his waist and pulling yourself impossibly close. He wastes no time either, wrapping his cloak around you and burying his face in your neck. 

Your body shakes furiously in his arms, everything you’ve been bottling up comes pouring out in a torrent of sobs and hiccups. Draco presses closer to you, towering over you and shielding you from the rest of the world. You let his peppermint scent engulf you completely,

“For Salazar’s sake y/n I need you to tell me what’s wrong. I need to fix it, love. Please tell me,” his voice is low and choked.

He’s right, you know he’s right. You squeeze your eyes tighter and grip his back, savouring the muscles under his dress shirt for a few more seconds before you know you’ll have to let go.

“Your father told me we couldn’t see each other anymore. He told me,” you pull out of his arms, leaning back against the tree, “he said, well, it doesn’t matter what he said. We just can’t be together.” Draco’s eyes widen and your cheeks heat up, your words ringing through your ears, “I mean we can’t be friends.”

Draco steps closer to you, running a hand through his hair and closing his eyes. He mumbles something under his breath that you can’t hear but you’re almost positive that it’s a curse. When he opens his eyes, your heart stops. His blue eyes burn into yours, glassy and angry but with something else too, something hot and fierce. Your heart restarts when he places his arms against the tree, caging you between it and him. You can’t resist placing your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat pick up as well.

“What did my father say, y/n.” He isn’t asking you, he’s telling you.

You lower your eyes, not bothering to fight him anymore, “he told me he would destroy me if I kept being friends with you. He said you were getting married and that you could never marry a Hufflepuff and that he would destroy me if he had to.”

He staggers back with each word, like each one shoves him more than the last. He squeezes his fists before straightening his fingers, shoving them once more through his hair. His shoulders are tense, his back straight. His eyes are screwed shut again. 

“Bloody hell,” he pulls at his hair, biting his lip, “he’s lost his damn mind.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, tugging at your jumper, suddenly hot all over. Now is not the time to be getting riled up over Draco but you can’t help it, he looks exquisite. Messy hair and an un-tucked shirt, the veins in his hand prominent and his rings glittering in the afternoon sun. He’s absolutely and undeniably perfect.

“It’s ok, Dra, you’ll be ok,” you try your best to comfort him but he snaps his eyes open, looking at you like you’ve gone mad as well.

“My dad threatened to kill you! No I am not okay!”

This time you walk to him, pulling him into your chest again and wrapping your arms around his neck. He sweeps his arms around your waist, pulling you so close that you have to stand on your tiptoes to keep your arms around him. His hands grasp your hips tight and you immediately know what he wants. You oblige, wanting it just as much if not more, jumping up and wrapping your legs around his stomach. You tuck your face into his neck this time, breathing in the slightest hint of apples, green ones. 

You don’t speak, practically feeling the words bubbling in his chest, “My dad told you he was going to kill you, love. He threatened you and he didn’t even tell me. I am definitely not okay. I need to do something. I need to talk to him. And he told you I was getting married? He’s lucky he isn’t here. I don’t care if he’s my father, nobody talks to my girl like that.”

He’s rambling, something he does when he’s at his end. His words wrap around you, tangling with every part of you and sinking into your skin. They lull you into a daze of sorts, almost nodding off on your best friends shoulder. You don’t realise how tired you are until you’re in his arms, safe. And then it hits you, and you’re wide awake again.

“Your girl?”

You cut him off mid sentence, squeezing your legs tighter around him to bring his attention back to you.

“What did you say, love?” Draco hikes you further up his body, readjusting his grip on you.

Your cheeks flame, your neck hot. His eyes bore into yours, searching for something that you’re not quite sure you’re ready to give. His lips are so close to yours, his breath hitting your lips with every exhale. The courtyard around you fades away and Hogwarts itself holds its breath.

“Did you call me your girl, Draco?”

He doesn’t blush like you thought he would, “yes, I did. That’s what you are. Mine. And Merlin help my father for trying to take you away from me.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, letting his words sink into your flesh. They curl around your bones, laying down a warmth that you’ve been craving for longer than you can remember. He’s right. Of course he’s right, he’s Draco. You are his and you always have been. His arm around your back tightens, jostling you enough to make you cling harder to him. Your fingers find their way to the nape of his neck, tangling in his hair. He leans his head back, giving in to your touch willingly. 

He holds your gaze as your fingers weave through his silky hair, capturing you with his eyes and refusing to let go, “I’m yours, Draco. Please don’t let me go.”

He leans his forehead against yours, “never, love.”

Hogwarts releases the breath it had been holding, the noise of the courtyard once more fluttering around you. You go to get down from Draco but he stops you, tightening his arms. You only shake your head and smile, letting the sunshine warm your face.

Your heart aches slightly still though, “what are we going to do about your father, Dra?

He starts walking, the sudden movement causing you to tug his hair a little harder.

His voice is strained when he finally answers, leaning down to rub his cheek against your head, “just let me handle that, ok?” 

You give in, for now, laying your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes for the final time, “where are we going, Dra?”

“We, my love, are going to take a very much needed nap.” 

[nuatthebeach]

What's your top 10 Harry Potter favorite characters?

To start off, just want to make it clear that while I like some characters more than others, I actually appreciate each and every one of these characters for the roles they exercise in the books. Appreciating vs liking do not always equate, and certainly nor do respecting vs liking. This Top 10 is purely based on my opinion, and the reasons that are subsequently provided are simply that - reasons - and not evidence. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion.

Also, after writing all of this, I realized this ended up being a very long character analysis instead of being purely based on liking, so please enjoy this very chaotic list because I felt chaotic writing it for sure.

With that being said…

10. Lily - I know. Crazy. You must be thinking what the hell is wrong with me to put her last in the first place. I can already feel the backlash from fandom, but I’m kind of beyond caring by this point because this fandom is crazy as hell. My issue with Lily is that from my standpoint, she’s truly not developed enough for me to gravitate to her. The main characteristics that we get from her is that she’s smart, funny, selfless, and cool. However, not only do we not see real canon evidence of these traits (besides being selfless), but that’s pretty much all the details we get of her personality. I guess you could argue that she learned to see the nuance in people and overcame her stubbornness by falling in love with James - in this case, I agree, she had some development there, though how much of it was her “overcoming” her stubbornness and not just James becoming more “worthy” of her, it’s hard to tell. For the most part though, I think she was mainly written - by JKR, not fandom - as a plot device: a prize to be won by either James or Snape to determine who is more “worthy” of her love and a sacrificial lamb that must represent the ideal Harry must hold to successfully kill Voldemort - love. All in all, it’s a pass for me, sorry. Still makes the ranking though, so there’s that!

9. Snape - I know, I know. How in the world am I putting Snape above Lily in my ranking? I need it to be known I really dislike Snape from the bottom of my core. He is cruel, petty, and arguably never really cared about Harry beyond his “love” for Lily. I think Alan Rickman definitely made his character a lot more palatable because when I first read the books, not a single tear shed for him when he died (in contrast, it did while watching the movies, but that doesn’t come as a surprise since the two mediums are so different). However, saying this dude didn’t absolutely nail his double agent role and completely throw people off in his complexity is just simply dismissive. He’s just…really complicated, and reading that in books, not real life, is incredibly fascinating from a literary point of view. Don’t like him, but I don’t exactly hate him either.

8. Draco - speaking of annoying assholes. Honestly I kind of want to rank him lower but alas I went through a Drinny/Dramione phase ten years ago and unfortunately fanon Draco (who as we all know - regardless whether you like him or not - is very different from both book and honestly movie Draco too) seems to loom occasionally. In the books, he’s classist, racist, snobbish, spoiled, an actual bully, and a bunch of other adjectives I’d need a dictionary to pull out to describe him with. With that being said, his sixth year was quite troublesome for him and I don’t put a lot of blame for his actions and conflict there because he was a kid who like Ginny was manipulated by Voldemort in his own way, even if he played a more conscious role in it. I give him a 3/10 for personal preference, 5/10 for development.

7. Luna - I gotta say, when I was a kid, I liked her a lot for all the reasons you normally would gravitate toward a whimsical, strange, funny-without-trying character, and though I still appreciate all of these characteristics - and her value as friends to Harry and Ginny in particular - I see some flaws in her arc now. I am a firm believer that often times, whenever authors want their characters to appear more complex, they just tack on a tragic backstory (one we never really saw on scene) and call it development while keeping their characterization relatively static. Case in point, Luna. There’s no argument that she’s one of the most loved characters in Harry Potter, and I think the reason for that is because there’s simply nothing to not like about her. She almost doesn’t seem real. Though I can appreciate the beauty in that too because she - just like the things she believes in - are open to interpretation as well.

6. James - surprisingly, I don’t have a lot of strong feelings for James either way. This just seemed like a neutral area to put him in so here we are. He’s pretty decent. He reminds me of the perfect mix between Harry and Ginny: brash, arrogant, impulsive, but also caring and willing to do the right thing when it counts. It actually really surprises me when people bash James - a lot of the times, I think it’s because they only really watch the movies, which never show the positives of his character. He’s even shoved to the side further in DH2 movie with dead Lily saying “Always” to Harry in the Forest of Dean, which I’ve always considered a big fuck you to the supposed great love story that is meant to symbolize the main theme of love and everything it means to fight for it. He even has GREAT development mentioned in the books as well, considered he, I don’t know, changed by helping out Snape in the end, proving he’s not the senseless bully others make him out to be? And yet, people feel more sympathy for Snape even though he continues his petty rivalry by enacting it on literal kids who did nothing to him? Anywho.

5. Hermione - I’ve always had mixed feelings about Hermione, unfortunately because of the ever present shit show that is the movies. Seriously. Fuck the movies. With that being said, I actually think her characterization is not bad…it’s similar to Lily’s arc (but a lot more actualized in my opinion) in that she went from being stubborn and single-minded in some ways to understanding there is a lot more to life than books but rather friendship and bravery (her words, not mine). She’s smart, intense, scary, and compassionate, and honestly just writing about her gives me the chills. However, my problem with her character arc is that it just keeps repeating in every single book (SS, OOTP, HBP especially). She learns this lesson over and over and it makes me feel like JKR kind of didn’t know where to go with her after a while.

4. Neville - speaking of character arcs that keep repeating. I like his arc because it’s the typical shy/awkward boy finds grounding and confidence, which with me having gone through that myself (and lowkey still going through it lol), many can relate to this a lot. Because this arc is repeated so much though - particularly in the movies - he’s a bit overinfantilized and babied when he’s proven himself time and again that he’s actually quite capable. He doesn’t really have much flaws like in the case with Luna (unless you count being shy and awkward, which it seems he’s more endeared for it than anything), but overall a great lad.

3. Ron - probably one of the most developed characters in the books because both of his strengths and flaws are clearly shown page after page, time after time again. Also probably the most hated. And probably the most relatable. I’m, uh…starting to see a correlation. Honestly I could talk about him for hours, but to quote Ms. Marvel: Good is not something that you are, it’s something that you do. And Ron’s actions speak for themselves. He leaves the Trio in DH? He comes back and atones for it. He treats Hermione badly in HBP? He makes efforts to improve his “lack of an emotional range” (which is BS btw) by reading the book about How to Charm Witches. He has an argument with Hermione about Crookshanks and Scabbers? He offers to make up for it by helping Hermione in her research on Buckbeak. And c’mon. Don’t tell me that when you read the scene in DH of him crying (NOT being angry, jealous, petty) after killing the Horcrux that your heart did not absolutely shatter for this tender, precious moment of vulnerability that hardly any other character besides maybe Harry displayed in the books at that age. A King 👑.

2. Ginny - honestly, this one alternates with my number one sometimes but because I’m going with the answer I know in my heart is right, I’m sticking her here for now. This girl. If she were real, I’d give her my babies. She is almost the most developed female character in the book series, considering the little number of relevant scenes she was given. I say almost because I actually do think JKR missed the concluding bulls-eye with her arc, particularly in HBP and DH. I, like everyone else, expected her to do a lot more than she did (c’mon she’s one of the only kids connected to fucking Voldemort, that had to have counted for something?!?!). With that being said, she’s the only female character who has a consistent rise in characterization throughout the books: starting off as a bubbly 10 year old waving and crying to see her brothers leave, a shy 11 year old who can’t speak around Harry but can to her diary and trauma ensues, a quiet 12 year old who still doesn’t talk to Harry but is overcoming her reputation as the girl who opened the Chamber and was victimized by literal Voldemort himself, and so on and so forth to the flawed, stubborn, angry, petty, defensive but also caring, compassionate, funny, clever, sassy girl we have by HBP and DH. As the books go on, you really see her shine and become a woman in her own right. And interestingly enough, her arc doesn’t repeat, like Hermione’s and Neville’s does; it has a clear direction that journeys from Book 1 to the end. For all of these reasons, I notice a lot of people claim she isn’t very developed - and while I agree she could definitely be more - I’d also argue she’s one of the most obviously developed too. Plus, I’ve always been fascinated by her connection to Voldemort and wish JKR explored it more herself: from her wand being made of the same wood as his (while Harry’s is made of the same core…hmmm interesting) to the interactions being much more gendered and personal than I’d even argue Harry’s. If I had to read about someone’s relationship with Voldemort other than Harry, Ginny definitely takes the cake, sorry Draco. I could go on and on about her, but if you want more Ginny meta, just check out my other posts dedicated just for her.

1. Harry - …MAN does this boy deserve more recognition in his own damn franchise. I don’t think the book series would have been more interesting if it was told in literally anybody else’s point of view. He is so witty, caring, headstrong, brave, stubborn, and beautifully flawed that I can’t help but adore him. I will forever hate the Steve Kloves and company for making him appear one-note, static, and absolutely positively bland in the movies because the truth is that he has so much freakin’ depth. Order of the Phoenix was the book that sold me on him. He had every right to be feeling angry at not just the adults in his life but the system and those who keep it under cover and even with a lot of that hurt and anger he STILL let Bellatrix go after she killed the closest loving parent figure he bloody had. Like, dayum. And what’s even more heartbreaking than that is only after all of the death and hurt and suffering in Deathly Hallows did he even further surprise all of us by throwing the Cruciatus curse at a Carrow for just simply talking bad about McGonagall. Talk about a Reputation album Taylor Swift era. You just can’t help but root for him while also being just the tiniest bit (okay, a large bit) intimidated by him. Regardless, he deserves better and if you want more examples of my defense for him (or anyone I’ve mentioned thus far), you need not but ask.

Honorable mentions include Fred, George, and Sirius, who I do adore but my feelings still tend to stay in the neutral area such that they couldn’t make it on this list.

If you couldn’t already tell, my love for characters stem from the amount of development they go through - it’s not always based on their “likability” or “toxicity.” I think an environment like fictional books provides a safe medium to explore morally gray, complex, dynamic, complicated, nuanced characters, and to completely dismiss or even “cancel” fictional characters is a bit…well, naive. That’s why for others it seems a little contradictory to put Snape and James in the same list together, but to me, it feels appropriate considering the complex traits the two have.

This was fun. I might consider doing a Top 5 or Top 10 ship ranking if this gets enough attention or if anyone wants one.

Thanks for the ask!!!

[smolla-than-a-bug]

I don’t know if you write character!reader but if you do can you write one with Cher Horowitz!reader x Mitsuya Takashi and Shinichiro Sano?

tokrev boys with a clueless s/o

ft. mitsuya, shinichiro

[ navi | tokrev m.list | request rules ]

content — gn!reader, cher horowitz!reader

notes — OMG I LOVE CLUELESS AAAA hi anon! i havent rewatched in a while so sorry this took so long <33

⚜️ MITSUYA widens your outlook on the world. Honestly, to be as clueless as you are, you grew up in a pretty sheltered environment—good for you. Genuinely good at that, because everything is served to you on a silver platter and you barely have to struggle with anything other than having to see other people’s poor fashion choices.

When Mitsuya comes into your life, you’re exposed to what seems to you is an entirely different world. You never knew a whole apartment that was barely the size of your own bedroom ever housed actual people—much less, four real people. Thinking nothing of it, you had said it was like they lived in a dollhouse, which honestly kept Mana and Luna entertained. That was your dynamic: You’d carry on being you without much thought for your actions, and Mitsuya would ignore what you said. His patience honestly ran a long track, but even that has to come to an end somehow.

Despite how he loves you, sometimes you just tend to say insensitive things and do dumb stuff without thinking of how it affects others around you. He had scolded you for the first time, one day, and you never knew words could impact a person so much. He did apologize a few days after he cooled down with some distance between you, but you told him he had nothing to apologize for. You understand now. And because of that, you would change your ways.

⚜️ SHINICHIRO thinks you don’t stand a chance surviving by yourself and has taken up the role of being your certified life coach or your ‘guardian angel,’ as he likes to refer to himself. He’s your best friend, who is madly in love with you, and in a sense is even more clueless than you are sometimes (only because he follows you around almost blindly). He’s stuck by you your entire life, barely even hiding what he feels for you, yet you’d never noticed a thing.

Throwing himself between you and the slobbery high school boys who try hitting on you because he knows you don’t like it; teaching you how to drive because no one else wants to deal with your complaints and horrible sense of direction. In fact, you’d have probably gotten robbed and dirtied your designer clothing that night you were held up after a party had he not found you on his way to pick you up and stepped in in your defense. He’s been with you—loved you—through it all, yet you’re too clueless to even notice the way he looks at you as you’re always caught up in your head or with something other!

Then one day, when one of your girl friends seem to be getting along with him a little too well, you’re thrown off a bit. You’d marched around your room, frustrated for what seemed to be no reason, totally buggin’, and grabbing at your hair until it finally hit you: You… are so in love with him.

all rights reserved © smolla-than-a-bug, 2021. please do not copy, translate, or repost my works. reblogs/feedback/comments are appreciated!

tokyo revengers taglist — @victoirey

[thewiscryptid]

SHE’S SO BROKEN INSIDE -- C - R - A - Z - Y !!

a reboot of my sentence starters for crazy ex girlfriend season 1 please change any pronouns/words to make it more applicable for your usage! some mature themes apply!

“This is what Happy feels like. This is what I’m supposed to feel like.”

“Why aren’t you happy?!”

“You didn’t even break skin and you inconvenienced a lot of people.”

“Remember you said that if I was in the neighborhood I should give you a buzz? Well… BUZZ!”

“I’m taking a few of these until my business cards come in, just so if anyone asks why I’m here, I can say ‘It’s for work! It’s legitimate!.”

“Because you’re pretty and you’re smart and you’re ignoring me so you’re obviously my type.”

“I’m not good for much but I do know it’s not right to hook up with a crying girl.”

“You half Italian? I can always tell.”

“He should be a search term on porn sites.”

“He made me feel warm inside— like glitter was exploding inside me.”

“I’m not in love. That would be stupid.”

“I’m crazy and I’m irrational and I’m everything my mother ever said I was.”

“If we play this right, it’s gonna hit him like a bag of nails to the balls.”

“Could we have a postmortem on the whole make out-crying situation?”

“Bras are in aisle one.”

“I’m going to gracefully exeunt and be chased….by a bear.”

“Maybe I will throw my saddle on that filly and take her for a ride around the paddock. ...Wow. Men are disgusting.”

“They spread a rumor that I slept with the English teacher! Which was totally a lie because we only did hand stuff!”

“Of course we’re friends because what other agenda could I possibly have?”

“I want to cut the silky hair right off your head and slurp it up like spaghetti.”

“We were just being cute! Cute kissing! For attention!”

“I can’t be friends with women. Everyone wants to have sex with me!”

“I’m going to go out on a limb and say that telling the truth from the beginning was probably the right option.”

“Luna bars are for women. I think they have menstrual blood in them or something.”

“A true friend loves you no matter what, even if your downward dog is horrible.”

“Now, if someone pulls a gun on me, I pull out my knife!”

“Come sit on my lap like I’m Santa and listen to me—”

“Put those things away, you’re going to poke a kid’s eye out.”

“I don’t leave when there’s whiskey left.”

“It was weird and sad and kinda beautiful in a pure and unironic way.”

“You’re really starting to fit in here. That’s not a compliment.”

“She’s seriously ‘bonker balls’.”

“The last thing you need right now is a conversation with a pathological narcissist!”

“How are you? UTIs under control?”

“Hey, don’t skate sad!”

“Let’s leave the children outta here for a sec.”

“Shut up, I love that fire! It’s my favorite fire!”

“How could a guy with a man bun know what’s authentic?!”

“You took some guy home from our date and SLEPT with him? What’s WRONG with you?!”

“I make no sense and you shouldn’t waste your time on me, can’t you see that?”

“I have an IQ of 164. On the entire SAT, I only got two questions wrong and in subsequent years, those questions were removed for being misleading.”

“You are a good person. He is a good person. …. We are good person.”

“What do you want me to say, people? That she doesn’t have the softest hair? And that I don’t watch her while she sleeps? Because I do! She’s an Angel.”

“She had flyaways! I can’t have her walking around like that.”

“You know I want to turn you in so much, because you’re an actual piece of human garbage.”

“Can I get a free beer? I’m down like $10,000.”

“My parents are alive. They’re just frigid and unloving.”

“Parents love brown nosers but men? Men love a woman who looks like me.”

“Chicken soup is just gross, hot, fat water.”

“I got a tongue scraper! Things are looking hhhhhhhexcellent.”

“Look at you, old man. You loooose! You have tubes in your face!”

“You promised me a drink and I got tired of waiting.”

“It was like Pearl Harbor meets the movie Pearl Harbor.”

“Why does Netflix always want me to watch Leaving Las Vegas? Is it trying to tell me something?”

“That basset hound could benefit from a juice cleanse.”

“Twilight is only the greatest love story since Shakespeare… in Love!”

“I needed that sage to cleanse the house of evil spirits. Ghosts are obsessed with me.”

“Do I really need to tell you to not take a pill from off the bathroom floor?!”

“I’m not going to listen to you. You talk silly.”

“I’m half of him so I am half of what you hate!”

“I’m glad you stood up to me because when the Cossack’s come, I know you’ll survive!”

“I want to melt into the chair like a butter lady.”

“Get realsies with me or I’m outskies.”

“Thanks for showing my boyfriend your cervix.”

“Charm and wit is a weird name for your boobs.”

“Where am I? Who am I? Am I in the Matrix? Am I Neo?”

“If you can’t even send me a whole word, then I’m not taking my clothes off for you. At least send an emoji. A chipmunk eating a block of cheese. I get that. I’m coming over.”

“Be the boat. Don’t be the hole. Nobody likes the hole.”

“Oh, you know what people say. One person’s blackmail is another person’s love story.”

“Okay, you can sleep at the foot of my bed tonight. Like a dog. …. Please don’t look so excited.”

“Oh, I don’t like her. She looks like she orders everything on the side.”

“He looks like a Kennedy. But a sober one.”

“What’s a pretty, showered girl like you doing here?”

“I think my life is a giant turd.”

“Why doesn’t he love me? Why doesn’t anyone love me? Why am I so alone?”

“I don’t want to say I don’t like anyone as much as you … but I just said it.”

“Love does not last in my life. I’m loveless.”

“I want to haunt Hitler and make him rethink a few things.”

“She’s not just a kid! She’s your daughter, you ass!”

“Oh, come on! Let’s make bad decisions together! We could run into traffic!”

“I’m not a sourpuss. I’m pensive and deep.”

“Are we being pleasant now? Sorry. I don’t know your rules.”

“He has the flat top of a Greek God.”

“If it were any other situation, I would take off my heels, my earrings and my extensions and curb stomp you.”

“Chasing someone who isn’t into you is a terrible move.”

“You have been Single White Female-ing me since you got here.”

“I have, like, the smartest face here.”

“Boo work and life and clothing.”

“You need to realize that ‘U up?’ is text speak for ‘are you horny?’.”

“You gotta force love, everyone knows that.”

“You weirdo face, put me down!”

“You just scooped me up like a basket of muffins…— PUT ME DOWN!”

“Why is he always talking about his theater major?! I know a lot of theater majors! They don’t talk about it! They just are!”

“I appreciate you Schwarzenegger-ing out back there.”

[apr1cots]

a handful of birthdays

on harry’s 20th birthday, luna brought draco to the pub, but he sat quietly and didn’t talk. harry got far too drunk. memories of the war were fresh and any opportunity to forget led to three too many shots and an extra pint or two of beer. harry didn’t say anything to draco, not even acknowledging him beyond the polite nod of recognition he’d given when draco had sat down. he was too tired to fight anyone anymore and draco just sat enigmatically sipping slowly on a drink harry didn’t recognize.

on harry’s 21st birthday, they were back at the pub but this time draco smiled all night and laughed when harry made stupid jokes. luna rested her head on his shoulder when she got too tired and he held her close. he gave harry a book about curses, promising not to use any of them against him with his signature on the first page.

on harry’s 22nd birthday, draco looked soft in the warm light of ron and hermione’s flat. harry’s heart skipped several beats when draco caught his eye and signaled him to step outside, but settled into a familiar dull ache when draco simply handed him a tin of dark chocolates. “they’re dosed with a potion that will help you sleep.” draco neglected to mention that he’d spent months creating them just for harry and lied about the scar on his left hand that he’d burned in the process. harry watched draco’s lips while he talked, mind reeling, but hugged his friend goodbye at the end of the night.

on harry’s 23rd birthday, ginny begged and begged until he relented and everyone ended up in the middle of a deafening club, dancing raucously, throwing caution to the wind, in a way draco commonly enjoyed criticizing. harry’s heart stumbled when draco appeared at the bar, loud lights changing his white blond hair a million colors, a glass of sparkling water in each hand. everyone screamed when ginny and pansy kissed on the dance floor, but draco laughed knowingly and tugged on harry’s hair to catch his attention before throwing him a wink. disarray dissolved into absolute chaos after that and somehow everyone else was gone at half past midnight and draco offered to walk harry home.

“soooo, our exes are an item i guess.”

“i hardly count pansy as an ex,” draco snorted and harry looked up too quickly when the backs of their hands bumped together.

“still though. it’s…”

“yeah.”

harry floundered for something to say and came up with nothing, but with draco it was okay. they listened to the night and the cars on the street and the happy music spilling out of one fourth floor flat three streets from harry’s place. their hands bumped together twice more, but harry forced his gaze to remain on the sidewalk.

at the entrance to harry’s building, he stalled, turning towards draco and opening his mouth to say something, anything, when draco kissed him.

it was unlike any kiss harry had ever had, washing over him in equal parts panic, shock, delight, and sweet sweet, long-awaited relief. when draco pulled away he smiled nervously, rubbing the back of his own neck with an uncertainty antithetical to the grip he’d had on harry’s neck moments before.

“draco…”

“i’m sorry, i just-“

“no. we should’ve done that a long time ago.”

“really? because-” harry laughed and cut him off, kissing him until neither of them could breathe.

on harry’s 24th birthday, they held hands under the table at the burrow. happiness tickled them all and it was loud in the way that it hadn’t been after the war. after fred and tonks and remus and all of their friends. around the fire that night, they talked about the people they missed in the way that people do when they have wounds that will never heal. but even with a heavy heart, harry fell asleep warm and grateful and with his person, not wishing his world was any different.

on harry’s 25th birthday, draco sat at the foot of his hospital bed, reading a novel and waiting for harry to wake. when he did, draco kissed his cheeks and rolled his eyes at harry making light of the situation. harry forced draco to crawl under the covers with him even though draco had claimed it beneath him. draco’s entire torso fluttered with stupid butterflies when he handed harry the jewelry box.

“merlin, draco is this-”

“i asked if they’d let me keep the bullet when they took it out. they thought i had lost the plot, but I really played up the distressed lover act and they relented.” he helped harry put the necklace on. “i… salazar, this sounds so juvenile but in this book i read they said ‘i’d take a bullet for you,’ and i… fuck, harry, there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you.”

on harry’s 26th birthday, he stretched lazily in the italian sun like a cat. draco watched him run down to the water’s edge appreciatively and ignored the puppy dog eyes that begged him to join. they pretended they were strangers but couldn’t keep up the act and laughed eating chocolate-covered strawberries under a thick blanket of stars. harry kissed draco’s neck and hummed contentedly into his warm skin. draco’s hands combed through his messy hair and they talked about their first kiss all those years ago, grinning like fools. fools in love.

on harry’s 27th birthday, they went back to their favorite pub with their favorite people, but didn’t get drunk. they rarely drank anymore and went home at eleven. draco was embarrassed but harry just squeezed his hip and told him he wanted to grow old with him anyways and that they might as well start now.

on harry’s 28th birthday, he sat on the floor of his kitchen with a bottle of dark liquid, half empty and no tears left to cry. he’d been dreading the day for weeks. it didn’t matter who wished him happy birthday, because he knew that the one person who really mattered wouldn’t say a word. his heart ached in a way he hadn’t thought was survivable and in his darkest moments, he still didn’t know how he could possibly keep on living. nothing was right without draco and it wasn’t fair that he felt so empty when draco appeared to be completely fine. how could draco be so okay without him? draco lived in his head, their arguments playing on a loop. but more than that, harry couldn’t stop thinking about the good times, the best times. he couldn’t stop dreaming about the way draco held his hand when they were in public and the way he mouthed the words to whatever book he was reading when he thought no one was watching. harry missed him so badly he couldn’t even breathe.

on harry’s 29th birthday, harry was breathless with laughter in his sitting room with his friends. rose sat on his lap, trying to steal his glasses, while teddy performed a dramatic reenactment of harry running into a pole at the park the day before. someone knocked on the door. he handed rose to her father and was met by draco on his porch. his hair was longer, but he was the same as harry’s draco had always been, sinfully beautifully, with soft eyes and pinked cheeks. 

“draco?”

fooooor @drarrymicrofic prompt: bullet 

[yejiroh]

falling-through-pages

Hey There, Lunar Boy✧*。Mikey x Fem.Reader

WC: 1k

reblogs are highly appreciated<3

taglist•trailer•playlist•masterlist

The absent are always in the wrong. That is just a principle of justice, one could suppose. After the gas attack and the arresting of Naoto Tachibana, the first division of Luna- sectors A-1 through A-5, were put on lockdown, and all of the staff members had a new assignment, the people they used to work with now no longer under their care. After some were found guilty; if one were suspicious, a rumor would start. And from that rumor was an unintentional opening of weakness that any criminal within those sectors could use. 

Manjiro was, however, a different case. After that woman's announcement of the trial date, he had been locked in confinement, only having the occasional meal dropped down to him through the small square opening in the ceiling. 

Of course, there were bathroom breaks, but even then he was watched. And all supposedly for the sake of "The public's ever-lasting good and safety." As if that had meant anything at all to him. 

Laying down on the spongy floors, he ran his fingers through his hair, wincing at how tender his scalp had become, at how greasy his hair was. He went over the past couple of days in his mind, recalling all that had happened. Not one of his questions had been answered, except for how he got here.  

A crash from the ceiling interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up to see a woman peeking her head through- a wary smile on her face. She looked vaguely familiar, and upon looking her in the eyes,  Manjiro felt a tingle in his skin- almost like an itch, like a bug was crawling up his skin.  

"Sorry- I'm kinda new here. You're number 070417, right ?"

He nodded, watching the woman as she stuck her hand into the room and fumble with the ceiling, just as Naoto had done when he came to get Manjiro. 

It was quiet for a moment, and then,

"You know, I'm not supposed to be talking with you, but you look a lot like someone I knew back on Earth."

"Hm?"

"Yeah- he went by Mikey- you guys have the same face, but he was a blonde with longer hair. It's freaky."

She went back to messing with the ceiling before shouting in excitement. The ladder fell, and once again, rusted chips fell off from it. 

"Okay, you go ahead and get up the ladder sir. I'm just getting some files ready- you know that your trial date is soon?"

"Mhm."

"Sir?"

"Hm?"

"I don't know why I'm saying this, but I feel like I should-" She pulled Manjiro up, unfastening his jacket- "But, you don't look like a bad person, y'know? I'm not saying that I don't know what you did cause I do. I mean, I looked at your file and all...it's just that, well..."

"Well what?"

The two looked at each other for a moment before the woman looked away. 

"You have a gentle heart."

Nothing else was said as she escorted Manjiro to the canteen, leading him through, the rope attached to his wrist getting tighter with every tug as he got distracted.

As they got closer, the sounds of metal clinking and people arguing got closer. The staff member glanced at Manjiro then back at the door, a look of confusion on her face as they finally got there that turned to shock and anger. Quickly, she disregarded her position, storming through the doors, I.D. badge out and ready in case of a question for authority (not that a level 1-E would have much clearance). Manjiro followed quickly, his knees almost buckling. Inside, an apparent food fight had started. 

Along the grayscale walls, ribbons on different foods in all states of matter were sliding down the walls and onto the floor. One item, purple and not possibly edible without some built-up resistance, had begun to evaporate, an even darker purple vapor coming from it. 

The people behind the counters who had been on serving duty donned on coveralls of clear plastic, holding metal trays above their face as they laughed wickedly.

In the middle of the hall, two men were throwing punches fast, faces bruised and bloody. On the left, the shorter of the two pulled the other's braids down, kneeing him in the face. In return, the braided man grabbed a nearby chair, crashing it into the other's shins.

"The hell are they doing?"

"I don't know, but my money's on Ran!"

"No, you idiot- Sanzu's knocking the shit out of him!"

"$50 BUCKS ON HAITANI!"

"SHUT UP- THAT CURRENCY ISN'T EVEN USED ON EARTH ANYMORE."

Onlookers that had been eating peacefully rose, circling them, not paying any mind to the staff member's and Manjiro's arrival.

"What's going on?" 

Another staff member, who had just entered, turned to her, 

"We're not sure how this happened, "Miss Akaashi, but we'll get this under control as fast as possible."

Just how did the power system work here?

Regardless, Manjiro looked around the room, walking away from 'Miss Akaashi', wincing at the rope digging into his wrist before grabbing a plastic knife off the floor. 

It was too dull to hurt someone, but maybe...

He pocketed it fast, then came back while more people rushed in. 

A loud crack sounded, almost mimicking the sound of a bone popping- but not quite. 

And then a scream. 

The people that had gathered quickly dispersed, even the two who had been throwing punches had stopped.

The cantine went deadly quiet, and, stepping on his tiptoes, Manjiro looked over, sucking in his breath.

Naoto Tachibana was on the floor, a bloody hole through his mouth, and past his eyes. 

Dead.

[dracosathenaeum]

Great Love Story | Part 2 | D.M.

A/N: I will apologise that this took so long. This is honestly 70% smut but don't worry part 3 will fix all the loose ends and should come out faster than this did lmao

Warnings: cheating, smut, angst

Word Count: 2,858

PART 1

“I thought I told you to keep quiet.”

You stared open mouthed at the sight of Pansy pushing a blonde against the wall of a hidden corridor. Moans poured out of her mouth as Pansy nipped at her neck; fingers underneath the blonde’s skirt moving in motions she recognised all too well.

A mixture of embarrassment and anger flooded through you; the same kind you felt watching Draco that day in the great hall. How was this fair? Pansy had taken everything from you, but she didn’t even want him. Had she taken him from you just to prove a point? You weren’t good enough for him and you knew that; but it didn’t mean you didn’t love him any less than he deserved to be loved.

Was she toying with the both of you? You had seen the way he had looked at her in the great hall but when you thought back you hadn’t even bothered to focus on Pansy’s expression or actions through your jealousy tainted vision.

You pulled your eyes away from the two lovers, rushing towards your common room once you realised, you’d probably been stood there a second too long. It would be more than embarrassing to say the least if they had caught you staring at them.

You kept your head down, eyes cast on the floor as you mulled over what you would say to Draco if you decided to say anything at all that was. As it happened you had far less time to deliberate than you had thought, you had been so worried about whether or not to tell him that you didn’t notice him standing in your path.

“Running late to your dick appointment?” A sneer had ripped out of Draco, a side of Draco you were used to seeing but not receiving.

You stopped dead in your tracks and let loose your guilt without a second thought.

“Pansy is cheating on you. With Luna. I’m really sorry.” It doesn’t matter if he didn’t want you back, he deserved to know. You were just being a decent human being; well that’s what you told yourself anyways. He looked at you with a hint anger in his eyes but at least you knew he had believed your words, well, at least you had hoped.

He had quickly schooled his expression into a blank stare, nothing to betray how he truly felt. “Thank you, I’ll speak to her about it.” Curt and to the point, no openings for further conversations. He walked away from you this time and it was clear what this had meant.

As a heavy weight in your stomach overpowered the hammering of your heart, you realise it was hope you had been feeling; hope that had fuelled your heart but maybe now your traitorous heart would realise he was gone for good. How many times would you allow yourself to hope before finally realising he wasn’t coming back to you?

//

You were going to go mad. A 7-page essay due the next week and you couldn’t understand half the divination gibberish laid out onto the pages in front of you. Usually Draco would be sat with you, both teasing and teaching you.

He’d mock Professor Trelawny; impersonating her to the point you had tears in your eyes and stitches in your sides. Though most of his impressions had been meant to be a mockery; half of what you had managed to scribble down plus pages of waffle would usually get you one of the top grades in the class. This would only feed Draco’s ego, so you never told him but as you sit swimming in tea leaves you realise, you’d do anything to hear his stupid words again.

“Uh I don’t mean to interrupt but do you need some help?” You look up, red flushing your cheeks as you remembered you weren’t alone in the library, casually ripping at your own hair.

“That obvious I’m struggling?” Theo only replied with a soft grin before instantly delving into some story from 4th year. Conversation flowed easily between the two of you and you were glad for a change in atmosphere from a friendly face.

That was how Draco had found you; head tilted back, a look of pure enjoyment across your features. He hadn’t heard your laugh in a while, and he hadn’t realised how much he missed it; though his reminiscing only lasted so long before he realised who you were sat with.

Theo Notts. He had the same friendship with Blaise as with Theo and he trusted him. He really did. But it didn’t matter that he had been a lifelong friend, what mattered was the way he looked at you as you laughed. The same way he knew he looked at you. Or so his brain convinced him.

“You’re welcome.”

“Welcome for what?” You wiped the tears from your eyes as you asked, still trying to catch your breathe. You had spoken to Blaise and Theo a hundred times before but never as a friend, only as Draco’s girlfriend. He had made you laugh harder than you had in months with one simple story about your loony professor.

He didn’t have to answer before you found yourself dragged out of the library. You had been so focused on not tripping over your own two feet that you hadn’t seen the wink Theo had thrown at Draco and the scowl Draco had thrown back at him.

You didn’t have to look up to know who had pulled you away, the familiar feel of cool fingers around your hand and the press of his signet ring was enough to know it was Draco.

Once you had steadied your footing (and gathered the courage to look up) you saw the familiar door of the room of requirement opening for the both of you. He slammed the door closed behind you before pushing you up against it, trapping you against it with his body.

“Was he the one you’ve been shagging?”

You laughed. Perhaps even harder than you had with Theo just seconds before hand, laughed so hard Draco had to pull away to give you room to breathe and to clutch your sides as you doubled over. The irony in this was concerning; this was the second time he had acted out, as if returning to the role of jealous boyfriend that was no longer his to fill out.

Your wiped at the tears falling from your eyes for the second time that day; evening out your breathes to reply, “Who does it matter who I shag when you’ve probably gotten every STD out there from Pansy?”

You barely finish your sentence before he has you against the wall again, mouth angrily moving over yours. It was like listening to your favourite childhood song where the lyrics would come back to you without having to even think about it. Your lips moved together the same as they had done a thousand times before, your arms finding themselves linked around his neck whilst his own rested on your waist pulling you flush against his body.

“Draco wait-”

“You don’t get to talk without my permission, understood?”

You nod as his lips move over the column of your neck; you were too far gone to worry over him feeling your pulse practically jumping out of your neck.

“Use words.”

“Yes” you all but moan.

He gathers your wrists in one hand to pin above your head as he brings his mouth back to yours; his free hand gliding up the thigh that’s hiked across his hip, hand dipping under the skirt with ease as he’d done so many times previously.

Just as his fingers reach where you needed him the most they stopped. Your lips stop their movement against his; worried he’d suddenly snap out of what was happening and realise what was happening. Worried that he’d leave you. Again.

His hand leaves your skirt to tilt your chin to face him as he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your lips. “Do you want to stop now, or do you want to keep going?”

Your heart skipped a beat, consent was the bare minimum and you knew that, but it was the way he had looked at you as he asked, the softness in his tone and in his eyes that made you think the old him had come back to you. That made you want to beg for him not to stop.

You opened your eyes again once his lips started their ministrations back on the column of your neck. You had wanted this for the past month, you had wanted his attention and his love so why is that when you were finally getting it you weren’t so sure anymore.  

“If you’re uncomfortable we can stop but don’t feel guilty about Parkinson.” It was like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over your fevered body. Pansy. How could you have forgotten he was a taken man?

You knew that this was so wrong, knew that in your bones but some sick twisted part of your brain thought that if she could have Draco and throw him away to be with Luna and Merlin knows who else; this was just you claiming back what was rightfully yours. Right?

“Are you going to give me an answer? Consent would be greatly appreciated.”

“Please” your eyes held steady as you answered, this was it, this was you winning him back. You ignored your brain; the thoughts that caused a weight to hang over your brain. And instead you focused on full your heart felt; of how comfortable your body felt to be back in his arms.

“I need a yes or no.”

“Yes.”

The switch was suddenly flicked back on as Draco wasted no time, two fingers dipping into your mouth that you greedily sucked on without a moment’s hesitation.

His other hand had reached down and back up your skirt, you had thought he’d simply pull the cotton to one side, but he instead tore at it, throwing the scrap of fabric carelessly beside you.

“I liked that pair!” Was what you had tried to say but with two fingers caressing your tongue it was more like incoherent dribbling.

Once he was apparently satisfied with you, his coated fingers swiftly moved to part your folds before slipping inside of you. His hand that have previously ruined your favourite pair of underwear drew circles around your clit as his other set a merciless rhythm inside of you, deliberately avoiding that spot inside of you that would have you keening over.

Draco kept his head close to yours, but each time you’d try to reach up to join your lips he’d pull away slightly, “I want to hear you.”

You clenched hard around his fingers at his words, it had been so long since he had touched you in any way and your fingers just weren’t enough for you anymore. Not after getting used to what Draco would give you.

“I’m so close. Please don’t stop.” His fingers kept at their pace, but just as your stomach tensed, just as you were about to fall over the edge. He pulled both hands pull away from you, wrapping around your waist to pick you up instead.

You didn’t have time to be angry at him, half a groan falling from your lips before his mouth claimed yours, hands ripping at the rest of your clothes as you fell backwards onto the bed, Draco falling on top of you. Your own fingers fumbled with his belt and tore at his shirt when the buttons refused to undo.

“Get on your knees and face the mirror.” You didn’t need to be told twice; hands resting on the end of the bed as your knees spread to accommodate him, eyes finding his in the mirror.

You watched his eyes as they traced up and down your bare body, appreciating the view of both sides due to the mirror. He lined the tip of his cock with your entrance; your lips trapped between your own teeth as you waited for him to give you what you had been waiting weeks for.

He slid in with ease, but you winced slightly at the pain that followed the pleasure. He stilled, allowed you to adjust, hands running across your body and mouth at your neck trying to reduce the stretch as he bottomed out.

You clenched around him as a sign he could move but he instead brought your upper body up with him, so your back was to his chest. You could both see everything in the mirror in this position; his hands that cupped your breasts and supported you as well as the place his body joined with yours. You couldn’t feel anything but him; surrounded by the scent, feel and taste of him and there was nowhere else you’d ever want to be.

His first thrust had moans falling from your lips, the same you had heard Luna try to muffle the same morning.

The second had you trying to squeeze your legs together at the pleasure, his tensed thighs not allowing you to move an inch. You had gone so long without this, so long that the pleasure was too much.

The third had you falling apart, head falling forward as you came hard; the build up from weeks on unsatisfactory orgasms and him not letting you over the edge before had you coming in an embarrassingly short amount of time.

Draco had continued his thrusts throughout your orgasm but as you looked into the mirror the cocky smirk on his face gave away his true feelings. Cocky bastard.

“Good girls don’t cum without permission.” You whimpered. You were so sensitive, but you weren’t done yet, not by any means.

“I’m sorry, I’ll be good I promise.” He apparently liked that answer as he shifted his hips slightly to angle his hips to repeatedly hit that one spot he had been avoiding so far. You let out a sound you didn’t know you were capable as his continued his thrusts that had your thighs shaking and thoughts empty.

“No one else could make you feel this good, I’m the only one aren’t I love?” You let out something between a cry and a moan when he stopped his actions, waiting for your answer. You were half delirious, hips shifting against his as you tried to bring back the friction that you needed.

When it was clear he wouldn’t be moving again until he got the response, he wanted you w

racked your brain, “Only you, it’s only ever been you I swear.” If your mind was slightly clearing you might’ve seen the irony in this, the idea that he was it for you, but he had someone else waiting for him in bed.

Sharp teeth nibbled at you ear, warmth breathe washing over it as he whispered, “If you’re good I’ll let you cum again.” If you weren’t so embarrassed from how quickly you had cum before you might not have been so successful in holding back your second orgasm from those words alone. He knew exactly which parts of your body to touch, to kiss or to simply breathe on that would have you shaking from overstimulation.

His hips suddenly snapped back up, quickly regaining the brutal pace before. You threw you head back against his shoulder, if you looked into the mirror again you were worried you’d cum again; the sight of him, thick and hard disappearing into you over and over again as his eyes would find yours, his fingers and mouth marking you as his.

You couldn’t bear to watch yourself anymore, not tonight at least, but you believed you would have an infinite number of opportunities to do so in the future.

“Oh, god-”

One of his fingers had slipped down to your most sensitive part as you got lost in your thoughts, his mouth once again asking you to look in the mirror.

“Cum.” The built-up coil in your abdomen suddenly let go and you couldn’t stop yourself from falling forward, leaving your entire body weight in his arm that wasn’t still on your clit working you through your orgasm.

“Good girl.”

//

He had taken you a further three times, finishing only twice himself compared to your five. Your entire body ached; head clearer than it had been in weeks but so content that you couldn’t stop yourself whispering the three words you had longed to hear from him again.

“I lov-”

“Don’t. Don’t say it.” There would be time to say it again is what you told yourself as you laid beside him. Usually he’d throw an arm around you and bask in the afterglow with you, softly tracing shapes across your back. Instead, you found yourself waiting for the tell-tale signs of his changing breathes before slipping under his arm and resting your cheek on his chest; telling yourself he’d still be there when you woke up.

//

You woke up to cold sheets and a heavy heart.

PART 3

TAGLIST: @bbeauttyybbx @pipppaaaaalouisee @theslytherinprincessworld @fangirl-3d2y @tttyrus @scriptingslytherin @justmimithings @purpleskymalfoy @minigigglybabi @505weasleys @secretaccshh @obbrssession @whatwoulddracodo @thatoneniceslytherin @thehumanistsdiary @mariah-can-dream @futureofanthropology @ccabian @tobarmaidswhodontcount @dray-cookies  @xuckduck @dreamyginny @dracofeltonmalfoy @lord-byron @inglourious-imagines @audreythehufflepuff @beiahadid @moonlightorbit @imonlyherecauseimbored @dracosgoodgirl @dreaming-about-fanfictions @goldenxreid @avengers-end-me @sad-bitch-h0ur @zhangyixingxing1 @yourenotafailureoverall @pastelpuffbar @miso-tang @pixiedustsupplyco @harry-and-draco-loves @tsukibaby @dracoswhore007 @hogwartslut @mischiefisbeingmanaged @raylovessarcasm @drxcomvlfx @dracosballs @standingandstaring @its-chickenwing-450 @iamproudtobeaslytherin @mischiefisbeingmanaged @pxroxide-prinxcesss @slytherinxraven @jinnbie @lunalovegoodsgirlfriend @Utzelh8 @gloryekaterina @capkatie @jquick-18 @imcedricdiggorys @osterfieldnholland @explxsion @big-galaxy-chaos @malfoycrave @softlyqoos @krazykendraisnotinsane @minsuuwu @lumlfy @mllzhxrrs44 @weasleyis0urking @slytherinwh0re @sydnee-kom-spacekru

People who asked for a part 2!: @america0105 @lana-isabelle​ @persephone-archives @tomhollandisabae @dracoxmgg @babydol @youknowiloveyou-so  @swiftingday @joselyn001 @sushiims @fuyumiworld​

[lucky-katebishop]

I spent a month reading harry potter fanfics and here’s what I learned

So for the past three and a half weeks, I’ve been doing basically nothing but reading Harry Potter fanfics and now I kind of just want to talk about them. No one cares but future me will! I tend to get caught in obsessions fairly easily (for instance, two months ago was comic books and last month was video editing and then k dramas). I’m feeling like my Harry Potter obsession is fading which makes me really sad cause it was a fun ride. I went from Drarry to Hinny, time travel to alternate realities, obscuris Harry to Dark!Harry, MCU AUs to Doctor Who AUs. I must’ve read more than 50 fics.

I’ve learned that I hate Dumbledore

Snape makes for a great mentor but I will only like him with proper character development

also where did Snape being Draco’s godfather come from? I don’t think this was in the books? I’m not angry, just confused

I read a fic that was so sad that I was physically unable to finish reading it -- actually I read two of those, one of them was a DID fic and the other Voldemort adopted Harry

the Voldemort one is quite possibly the most tragic thing I have ever read and even though it’s been two weeks I still haven’t been able to recover -- I was only halfway finished too GOOD LORD

another fic I read that was so fucking depressing was a time loop situation where Harry literally couldn’t get out of and it ended tragically

obscuris Harry is interesting but I really only like the ones where Newt is actually involved but I couldn’t find any finished ones

I don’t like it when Harry’s appearance changes, it throws me for a loop

there was this one where Harry got sent back in time and his figure got disfigured and so he didn’t even appear like himself anymore

I just find it odd for Harry Potter not to look like Harry Potter, idk

I also have a headcanon that his hair is very curly rather than shaggy

I haven’t been able to find a fic where Harry goes back in time to the Marauders era and has the right amount of angst but the right amount of fluff

I’ve read some good ones where the Marauders travel to Harry’s time but like,,, it isn’t quite what I’m looking for? I’m gonna have to write it, aren’t I? 

this doesn’t happen with irondad fics, literally everything you’ve ever wanted you can find it there

I read one where Harry did go back in time but she (fem!Harry) didn’t really interact with her parents or the Marauders that much, she became friends with Regulus instead

Regulus should’ve been in Gryffindor

I’ve not only read fics where Draco has been a Ravenclaw, Slytherin, but also a Gryffindor. I haven’t found one where he’s in Hufflepuff

I’ve read fics where Harry’s in every single house - the Ravenclaw one might be my favorite so far, it had to do with him going to a different timeline where there’s another Harry and he’s a major dick

Hufflepuff Harry one was funny, but it got distressing cause Dumbledore didn’t trust him and tried to get him expelled

actually the Hufflepuff one made my heart hurt cause Harry was put in the body of a Harry who isn’t the boy who lived and barely spoke and was basically like an even more traumatized Neville

Slytherin Harry is everything to me and he should’ve been in Slytherin

Ravenclaw Draco is something that can be so personal

I’m tired of reading Year One fics, I get it, there’s a stone, let’s move on

Year Four fics are my favorite however, there was one (which is my favorite) where Harry’s a necromancer and in the graveyard scene he calls corpses from the graves alive to help him get out of there it was so cool

I am partial to Harry/Draco but Harry/Luna is cute

there was a Pokemon Harry/Luna one that’s adorable and I’ve read it twice already

I like when there’s a ton of lore involved

especially Hogwarts lessons - like ancient runes can fucking get it, I love runes fics

there was an MCU AU one where I read Harry didn’t have his magic anymore, not as potent as it was, but he did have ancient runes

LISTEN I tried to get into Dark!Harry but after that Voldemort adoption one I can’t do it anymore, I will start crying literally right now -- he just wants to be fucking useful! He just wants to be loved! Is that too much to fucking ask for? 

however Harry doing dark!magic but isn’t actually on the dark side is cool

Death Eater Spy Draco! It makes me distressed but also I am so here for it!

Jenkins if you’re out there I love you (if you get this reference I love you)

I read a ton of Avengers adopt Harry when he’s younger but I don’t care for younger Harry fics, I prefer when he’s a teenager and I don’t have to read the first few years at Hogwarts, it can get repetitive

Give me all the angst with Harry being a horcrux please, I’m living for the drama

Lily is not a fan favorite weirdly enough, when the Marauders are in fics she’s usually not there which is unfortunate because I just really want a good Harry/Lily bonding moment

one of the saddest fics I read was where harry, luna, hermione and neville find themselves in an alternate dimension where Lily and Remus are married and alive, James is a dick but has other kids, and every single person that had died in their world is alive

I don’t like it when there’s Ron bashing, he’s one of my favorites, but if I have to, I’ll read some of them

there was this Sherlock fic (listen, I went in fucking deep, it’s been a weird month) where fem!Harry is on the run from the Ministry because I don’t actually understand and Ron and everyone is out for blood for her

Eleventh Doctor/Harry is a pairing I was not aware of but I actually kind of love?

Master of Death Harry is fucking OP and I love him for that

mcu aus is something I never knew I needed

Holly Potter and the Midlife Crisis is fucking everything

So is On Punching Gods and Absentee Dads, I realized it was the same author when I read in the author notes that the author was going to some volcano convention thing and I was like this is way too niche for it to be a coincidence

I’ve read Tony is Harry’s dad, Loki is Harry’s dad, Harry is just weird friends with Thor, ones where Natasha is Harry’s aunt

listen everyone is related to this boy

I will not read a fic if it doesn’t involve Harry, he’s my boy, he’s my love, I care only about him and him only I’m so sorry

you know that meme where people say nobody’s favorite character is harry potter, the titular character? Well meet me! He’s my favorite!

in battle of hogwarts fics, Remus almost always dies. Why is that? Why do you guys hate him so much? It’s always half and half for Fred, I never know if he’s going to live or not

In all of the good fics I’ve read I saw in the collections area of ao3 the same collection and I was like! You get me! 

if it says Gammily’s Bookshelf on the fic, it’s gonna be a really fucking great fic let me just tell you that right now

Parseltongue gets me so riled up, I fucking love Parseltongue, it’s so cool

there’s a reason I usually filter out non/c*n but I decided to let it flow and I ran into a few that fucking d e s t r o y e d me why do you guys read shit like this, it broke my heart

that being said I read one that was really nuanced and actually really good but it’ll never be finished and I’m very mad about that

Either we have a better understanding of how goblins could be utilized  than JKR or we’re just ignorant of how powerful they can be

weird coincidence that I’ve read two completely different fics where Harry thought having a threesome meant kissing three different people

Dumbledore’s a bitch and I hate him, every fic I’ve read so far agrees with me

there is a person out there that is CARRYING the bucky barnes/harry potter pairing on their back and I hope whoever that is knows how much I appreciate them

remind me never to click on a fic that hasn’t been updated since 2015 ever again, C’est La Vie I will miss you so

this is just a fucking quarter of the harry potter fics I’ve read but thanks for reading if you did, let me know if you want to know some of the titles

[doc-pickles]

all's well that ends well to end up with you

After a weekend conference Jo finds herself in an unfamiliar and unexpected situation with an all too familiar face from her past.

“How was the conference?”

As Link approaches Jo she can’t help but jump in surprise, he’d snuck up on her as she stood outside of one of her patients' rooms editing their chart. She had been gone for the weekend at a medical conference in New York and hadn’t seen Link since coming home.

“It was good,” Jo doesn’t look away from the computer in front of her, typing as she speaks to Link. “Robbins is pretty amazing, I’m kinda bummed I never got to work under her as an OB. But I learned a lot and I had fun.”

Her phone dings next to her and before she can grab it Link is reading the screen with interest, “Who’s Michael and why does he want to know how your morning is going?”

Jo snatches her phone up, putting it into her pocket as she closes out of the computer. She turns and begins to walk away from Link, “I met him at the conference.”

“Does he live nearby?”

“No.”

“Did you sleep with him?”

“Atticus Lincoln!”

Whipping her head around Jo isn’t shocked to see the smug grin on Link’s face. He shrugs, walking past her towards the elevators as he continues his thoughts, “I’m just saying, you’re a single mom of a three-year-old who had a whole entire weekend to herself. I assume you went to a bar, got wasted, and slept with the first eligible doctor you laid eyes on.” “Wow you really do not know me at all,” Jo follows Link into the elevator, pressing the level one button. “He’s a doctor that I happened to connect with in New York. We’ve been texting, not that it’s any of your business.”

“I’m your best friend and you’re not gonna tell me about the first man you’ve slept with since…”

“Don’t try to calculate, it’ll hurt your brain.”

While she’s always more than happy that she has her college friend back in her life Jo often finds herself annoyed at his antics, the same way she assumes siblings get tired of each other. She assumes that Link does these things to get a rise out of her but she always has the suspicion that his love for life and childlike excitement has something to do with it as well.

“Well I’m glad you had a good weekend,” the doors of the elevator slide open, and Jo and Link step out. “Still on for dinner tomorrow?”

Jo nods as she begins to walk down the hallway away from Link, “Yes and I promise I won’t burn it this week.” Link’s laugh echoes down the hallway as Jo turns the corner towards the hospital daycare. She’d flown in early in the morning and gone straight to work meaning she hadn’t seen Luna for three days. She was more than ready to scoop her daughter up and go home to watch movies on the couch.

“Mama!”

The excited voice of her daughter snaps Jo out of her thoughts, a grin overtaking her face as she runs towards her. She opens her arms just quick enough to catch Luna as she barrels forward into her chest. Even though she was just gone for the weekend Jo couldn’t help but savor the feeling of her daughter's arms wrapped around her.

“Oh my little star, I missed you so much,” Jo pulls back and presses a kiss to Luna’s forehead. “Did you have fun with Auntie Mer?”

“Yes she did, she was a perfect angel,” Jo turns her attention to Meredith who’s standing in front of her with Ellis hoisted on her hip. “I came to check on this one, she’s got a bit of a cough so sorry if Luna catches it.”

Jo shakes her head, squeezing her daughter tighter, “It’s okay, Luna is a warrior. Thank you so much again for watching her.”

“Jo you’ve watched my kids more times than I can count, don’t worry about it,” Meredith brushes off Jo’s thanks with a grin. “So did you have fun? Adult fun?”

“What is with you and Link? I go to an MFM conference and you guys think my whole weekend was a sexscapade,” Jo rolls her eyes, grabbing Luna’s backpack and hoisting the three-year-old onto her hip. “Not that it matters but I did have fun.”

Meredith shouts her goodbyes as Jo and Luna walk out of the daycare. While she’d be hesitant to admit it out loud Jo did enjoy having a weekend to herself. She’d caught up with Arizona and Callie and even had a chance to sleep in for once. The handsome man that she’d connected with was a nice bonus as well.

As if on queue Jo’s phone dings as she climbs into the driver’s seat of her Audi, a smile lighting up her face as she reads the text.

Hope you girls are having a good night, can’t stop thinking about you.

A blush spreads across her cheeks and Jo can’t help the swarm of butterflies that well up in her stomach. While one weekend wasn’t enough to judge a whole future she was excited to see where things took her.

+

True to Meredith’s word both Luna and Jo caught the cough and cold that Ellis had. While Luna had recovered quickly Jo couldn’t seem to shake the brain fog and fatigue plaguing her. She trudged through her work weeks, adopting the same bedtime as Luna and pushing off everyone’s questioning and concerned gazes until she couldn’t anymore. After three days straight of waking up exhausted, fatigued, and throwing up Jo surrendered and called Meredith to come and get Luna. If she could barely manage to get herself out of bed how was she supposed to take care of a rambunctious toddler as well? While she waited for Meredith to arrive Jo laid in bed, phone pressed to her ear.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself. What’s up?”

“I don’t think Luna and I will be able to make it this weekend.”

“Are you guys okay? You sound terrible.”

“Gee how romantic of you, you really know how to woo a girl.”

“Jo…”

“I’m fine just… pregnant.”

There’s a long pause, an unavoidable silence encompassing both ends of the phone. Jo knows this is the last thing he was expecting, it was the last thing she was expecting, but it’s where they found themselves.

“What’d you say?” “I’m pregnant. I took a test yesterday. Well, I took seven but still.”

Jo can hear him suck in a breath on the other side and she can’t help but wish she was telling him in person, standing across from him as he launches forward and wraps his arms around her in that pleasant rush of shock and excitement.

“From New York? It’s…” “Definitely yours. There’s not really any other contenders.”

“Holy sh-”

“I know, not exactly the kind of news you were expecting,” Jo pauses, toying with a loose thread on her comforter. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, we’ll work it out. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I want to stay on and talk but I have surgery. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Of course. Talk to you soon.”

Jo hangs the phone up, falling back onto her pillows with a sigh. She had never pictured herself in this situation but here she was; a single mom to a toddler pregnant by a guy she had seen over one weekend who lived states away. The thought alone hurt her, but she knew that she could get through it.

“Was that mystery man from the conference?”

Jo nearly jumps at the sight of Meredith standing in the doorway of her bedroom. She looks down to Luna who’s sleeping soundly beside her before answering, “Yeah that was him.”

“You didn’t seem very happy to talk to him,” Meredith seats herself at the end of Jo’s bed, raising her eyebrows with a questioning look. “Trouble in paradise?”

“More like trouble in everyday life,” Jo rolls her eyes, looking up at Meredith. “Thanks for taking Luna, I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Meredith pauses, eyeing Jo warily for a moment. “Are you sure you’re not contagious?”

“I told you I have food poisoning,” Jo groans as she slips further under the covers. She wasn’t in the mood for Meredith‘s questioning today. “I’ll call if I’m not okay.”

The answer placates Meredith for now and Jo wakes Luna and sends her with her friend. She stays in bed for a few more minutes before the urge to throw up overwhelms her. After she spends half an hour hunched over the toilet she finally feels good enough to crawl back into bed, falling asleep before thoughts about her unexpected pregnancy overwhelm her brain.

Despite falling asleep quickly Jo finds that she’s restless. When her stomach finally feels settled she drags herself to the kitchen, eating plain toast before jumping in the shower. By midday, Jo feels better, save for her lingering exhaustion. Meredith texts to inform her that Ellis and Luna have suckered her into a sleepover and that she’ll bring Luna home the next afternoon. With not much else to do Jo settles on the couch with a movie.

She doesn’t realize she’s fallen asleep until there’s a banging on her front door. The bright light shining through the windows alerts Jo to the fact that she slept through the night and Meredith is bringing Luna home. She jogs to the door, her apology to Meredith failing on her lips as she realizes it’s not her friend in front of her.

“Hey.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Well you called and sounded terrible and we were supposed to meet up this weekend anyway so…”

“So you hopped on the first plane to Seattle?”

“I hope that’s okay.”

”Of course! You know I missed you, I'm just shocked.”

The rest of Jo's statement is cut short as Luna barrels down the hallway and crashes into her legs. It only takes a few seconds for Jo to realize just how screwed she is before Meredith‘s voice echoes down the hallway.

“Alex?”

The blonde doesn’t wait for a response, instead wrapping her arms around the man standing in Jo's doorway. As she pulls away from Alex Meredith looks between him and Jo before letting out a gasp.

“Oh my go-“

Jo doesn’t hear the rest of Meredith's sentence as she shakes Luna off of her leg and bolts down the hall. She barely makes it to the bathroom, the little bit of popcorn and toast she managed to eat yesterday reappearing in the toilet bowl before her. She can hear Luna calling down the hall for her, Meredith distracting her quickly. As her body heaves forward again, Jo feels a warm hand on her back and another pulling her hair back.

“I’ve only been in town for an hour and I’m having a blast,” Alex chuckles as Jo swats at him blindly. “Sorry about the throwing up.”

“I blame you for this.”

“And I blame Arizona.”

When she’s done throwing up, Jo sits back and takes a long look at Alex. Although she had seen him only a few weeks earlier she can’t help but take him in all over again. The crooked smile she’s become so accustomed to still graces his face and his presence calms her nerves more than she thought it would.

“I can’t believe you flew all the way out here.”

“You were going to fly out to Kansas with Luna, I figured the least I could do right now was help you out for the weekend,” Alex brushes the hair back from Jo’s forehead and she can’t help but lean into him. “How are you doing? I mean throwing up aside obviously?”

“Tired. And I can’t remember anything,” Jo doesn’t have a better answer for Alex, her train of thought being interrupted by Luna babbling outside the door anyways. “I should get her.”

“I can get her if you want,” Alex stands quickly, extending his hand to Jo. “I mean if it's okay with you that is. I’m just trying to help out, I can take her for a bit and you can nap.”

Jo nods in thanks, bypassing Meredith in the hallway and immediately curling up in bed. She can hear Alex and Meredith whispering but can’t quite make out their words. Luna is babbling and she can tell that Alex is responding to whatever the toddler is saying to him. As Jo drifts off to sleep once again she can’t help but feel like the future might not be as dim as she had first thought.

When she wakes up a few hours later Jo is greeted by the sight of Alex coming into her room. She pats the spot next to her on the bed and curls into Alex’s side as he settles in, his arms wrapping around her shoulder. The warmth that spreads through her as he presses a kiss to her forehead is warm and comforting, something she’d craved for far too long.

“Thank you for helping with Luna, I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem,” there’s a momentary pause before Alex speaks again and despite not being able to see his face Jo knows he’s grinning. “We’re having a baby. Can you believe that?”

“I would say no but the constant nausea and throwing up make it hard to forget,” Jo threads her fingers through Alex’s as she rests his hand on her still flat abdomen. “We’re having a baby.”

The moment is bittersweet, the excitement of the tiny new life overshadowing the reminder that they could have already had this had Alex not left. Jo chooses to overlook that as she lets herself finally feel the excitement that’s been bubbling under the surface since she had seen the positive test two days before, “The first time I sleep with you in three years and you knock me up. I think you just missed me.”

“I did. I have every day since we said goodbye outside the airport.”

Alex’s candor makes Jo’s breath hitch. As she turns to meet his eyes she knows he’s telling the truth, but she still finds herself craving the reminder that this is real and not a dream.

“I want us to be a family, that’s what I’ve always wanted with you, Jo. I know we didn’t count on Eli and Alexis or Luna. And we definitely didn’t count on this little one,” a smile spreads across Alex’s face as he squeezes their intertwined hands still resting on her stomach. Jo can’t help the tears that well in her eyes at the small gesture. “But I can’t picture a future without all of them. Or you, I definitely don’t want a future without you, Jo. I told you in New York that leaving was my biggest mistake and I meant that. I don’t want to be a dad without you by my side, I don’t want anything if you’re not by my side. I can do it, I can live my life, but I don’t want to unless you’re there too. I love you, Jo.”

Jo can’t stop the tears that are tracking down her face. She knows she’s worrying Alex with her emotional display but her raging hormones make the task of stopping the tears near impossible. Instead, she reaches up and kisses him squarely, letting her lips linger a bit longer than she normally would. When she pulls away Alex’s eyes are still closed and he’s wearing a blissed-out expression.

“I love you too,” Jo savors the words as they fall off of her lips, not having said them in this context since the last voicemail she had left for Alex before she had read his letter. “I love you and our family so much.”

There’s nothing else for them to say, the couple enjoying the silence that surrounds them as Jo leans up to kiss Alex again and they get lost in each other. It’s an easy feat, their emotions and feelings towards each other guiding their actions as they once again fall into bed with each other. Jo knows that they have more to discuss but for now she’s content to get lost in Alex all over again.

[yourfangirlfriend]

It’s Nothing Serious - Chapter Seven

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Five and a Half

Chapter Six

A/N: Hey. Been a while. Here’s an update and a loose promise I’ll be better? Also thanks for all the notes, comments, and messages recently! I forget who wanted to be on the tag list, but comment and I’ll know for next time!

“It’s not serious.”

 You pinch the bridge of your nose.

 “Mother.” 

 “It’s not. You’re really overreacting.”

 You curl your fingers into the bed of your palm and feel the bite of your nails digging into the flesh. “It’s cancer.”

 “Psssh.”

 You want to throw the phone across the room. Instead, you screw your eyes shut and lean back against the wall.

 “Do you have an appointment soon?”

 “You know I don’t like hospitals.” She says just as you see the deadbolt to your apartment flick unlocked. Javi pushes in seconds later, looking just as tired as you feel. You give him a little wave.

 “Well weigh that dislike of hospitals against your dislike of death,” you say, turning away and putting your hand on your hip. You don’t want to burden him with this, but you see his eyebrows perk up anyway. Shit. You lower your voice. “Can’t Dad sit with you? Or Luna?”

 “You worry too much.” She chides.

 “You don’t worry enough!” You scold into the phone. You feel a hand around your waist and turn just in time to get a kiss on your forehead. It calms you down.

 Sighing, you regain your composure. “Mom? Please promise me you’re going to go back.”

 “Well of course I’ll go back, Bean, but really, I don’t want you worrying about me.” Somewhere in the background, you hear a crash behind her.

 “Mom?”

 “It’s just your father. He’s putting up shelves for the crystals and I think he fell. Can I call you back?”

 You sigh. The only thing your mother is worse at than soothing your anxiety is calling you back.

 “Yeah, sure.” You say. “But actually call?”

 “I always do.”

 “Hmm.”

 “Bye Bean, I love you.”

 “I love you too,” you say before you hear the line go dead. You put the phone back on the hook and drop your head, trying it to calm yourself down. From the couch, you hear Javi perk up.

 “Sounds like you had a worse day than me.”

 You look up and give him a weak smile. “We’re having a lot of those, recently.”

  How long are honeymoon periods supposed to last? You would have at least guessed six months. That only seems fair, given the seven months of angst and hookups that preceded finally, finally being able to admit to one another that maybe this meant a little more than you led on. You would have taken three months, even- three months of everything just being calm and quiet and nice, where the most stressful thing to happen is burning dinner because you’re too busy fucking on the counter.

 You moved to the wrong fucking city.

 It wasn’t even a week after your drunken exchange of I-love-yous that it began. All those bodies piling up once more, only this time the cops and their allies were giving just as good as they had got. Bodies from both sides seemed to pile up in higher stacks all around you two. Three days hadn’t passed without you having to calm down one of your students -or worse, one of your fellow teachers- over recent events. It was getting to you, too, if you were honest. Javi had warned you against going out like you once did, and as much as you hated it, you knew he was right. You thought of the friends of friends who had disappeared or died, caught in the crossfire or in the consequences of their poor decisions. The more you heard, the more you wanted to lock yourself in your apartment, hidden away from the chaos of the outside. You managed to see your friends at work but meet-ups outside had dwindled severely. Alessa found out she was pregnant and didn’t want to risk it. Lisa’s brother-in-law got caught in between two sides of a gunfight and couldn’t work any longer, so she was helping them more around the house. Maritza was the only one who still tried to go out, but it was a rare occasion you could even gather everyone up for a dinner at home.

 Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if you could have spent all this new, anxious free time with Javi, but if anything, he had picked up your slack when it came to existing in the outside world. Since Los Pepes had entered the picture, the man worked around the clock. Sometimes you would go the whole evening without seeing him, only to be awoken to the feeling of his body falling on the bed next to yours. While he still insisted on driving you to work every morning, he had begun staying at the office later and later, sometimes not returning until 2 am. The fire and anger that once fuelled him seemed to have died out, and the poor man is running on fumes. You could see it when you both woke in the morning in the dark circles under his eyes and the uptick in cigarettes he had been smoking. You try and take care of him - bringing him coffee in bed, rubbing his shoulders when he sits up, lost in his own thoughts. He appreciates it, he tells you as much, but no matter how hard you try he’s still as weary as ever when he finally comes back to you.

 You don’t want to add to that. You know that what he’s seeing at work must be leagues beyond your little pep-talks and lonely evenings, and you don’t think it’s worth mentioning even if it has started to take its toll on you. You miss your friends. You miss days at work where the kids are sunny and mischievous, instead of withdrawn and scared. Hell, you miss your boyfriend- it feels weird calling a man his age that- you’re supposed to be in loved-up bliss, but instead it seems the universe decided to throw you another curveball. You overcame the intimacy issues only to come face to face with this bullshit not days later.

 And now your mom is sick.

 Javi gets up from the couch and comes to stand beside you, his tired hand dropping down to take your fingers. You smile at the effort, which seems small, but you know takes so much for him these days. You reach up to wipe a stupid tear out of your eyes.

 “Swear she thinks she could cure this with sage and essential oil,” you try to joke. He doesn’t say anything, only runs his thumb along your cheek bone and tilt your chin up to look at him. You try and give him a smile before another year drops down your face. Frustrated, you press your hands into your eyes and let out a groan.

 “Fuck.” You say. You drop your hands and look back at him. “I’m sorry.”

 “What are you sorry for, huh?” He asks.

 You shake your head.

 “I don’t…I don’t know.” I’m sorry I can’t be soft and happy for you when you come home? I’m sorry that he has to spend all day on the front lines and come back to this mess? “Things have been rough lately. I don’t want to add anything to your pile.”

 “It’s not my pile that’s getting added to,” he pulls you against him, pressing a kiss against your head once more. You close your eyes and let out a sigh. “You okay, hermosa?”

 You nod, pulling away just enough to look him in the eyes. “They caught it early. She’s just stubborn. She’ll go, though. Her dad was an oncologist. She pretends like she doesn’t know, but…” you shake your head. “Fucking parents, huh?”

 “Yeah,” he says, reaching out to push a loose curl behind your ear. “Fuckin’ parents.”

 You relax into him, letting your head dip down into the dip when his neck connects to his chest. He brings his arms around you to keep you there. The two of you stand like that for a moment, two idiots swaying to the silence of the world’s chaos.

 “You’re not bad,” you sigh against him, snuggling in deeper. “For an alcoholic cop.”

 He chuckles. “Agent.” He combs his fingers through your hair. “You’re not bad for a teacher who lets strange men finger her in a supply closet.”

 You hold a finger up. “One time.”

 He catches your hand and brings your fingers up to his lips, kissing the tips. It’s enough to make you melt.

 “I am sorry,” he says, placing your hand against his chest and holding it there. “About your mom.”

 You sigh. “What can you do?”

 “Do you need to go back?”

 “I’d never hear the end of it if I did,” you pull away from him and make for the coffee table, where you had set out two drinks for Javi’s arrival before your mother had called. You pick them up and extend one to him, and he takes it gratefully, dropping onto the couch next to you. “She’s convinced I worry too much. Me, her brilliant daughter who chose to live in the middle of a war zone,” you purse your lips. “Sorry,” you say.

 He shakes his head. “You’re right,” he leans forward to set his drink down on the coffee table before resting his elbows on his knees, bending forward in a pose of contemplation. Sensing the shift in the air, you sit up and run your fingers along his back.

 “Javi- I didn’t mean…”

 He shakes his head again. “This thing…it’s a fucking mess. All of it.” He sighs. “Sick of seeing fucking bodies.”

 You reach for something to say to comfort him, but you know there’s nothing. Instead, you scoot closer to him, resting your chin on his shoulder.

 “Have you thought about it? Going back to Texas for a while?” He asks.

 You shake your head. “She doesn’t want me to. And neither do I,” you reach up and lace your fingers through his, unclasping a worried hand. He turns to you, his eyes flicking up and down your face.

 “You shouldn’t stay here because of me. You’d be safer.”

 You blow a raspberry. “Don’t flatter yourself.” Sensing he took the joke to heart, you nudge him with your chin. “I’m here because I want to be here. With the kids. With you.”

 He turns back to face forward, and you’re unsure if he’s satisfied with your answer before he speaks again.

 “If anything happens to you…” he shakes his head. It forms a pit in your stomach.

 You reach out and press his hand against the center of your chest. When he looks at you puzzled, you smile. “See? Still beating. Think that’s a good sign.”

 He sighs, but not without a small smile on his face. Taking advantage of the moment, you reach out and take him by the chin, pulling him in for a long kiss. When you break away, his hands come up to pull your face back to his, and you can’t help but smile as he presses his lips against your mouth and begins to trail down your neck.

 “Yeah,” he says, kissing the pulse point that makes you shiver. “I think it’s a good sign.”

      You’re not great at taking care of yourself when you’re stressed out. Who is, really? You hope he hasn’t noticed, though, the way the bags under your eyes have darkened to match his or how much more quickly you seem to go through liquor bottles. You want to think he doesn’t notice- that he’s too focused on other things, but it’s getting harder to pretend. You try and rally your energy every time you see him. You want to be this bright spot for him in the middle of all this chaos and violence. You cook, you clean, and you go down on him like you want to live the rest of your life on your knees. You smile. You joke. You try to be pure sunshine in the bullshit he’s caught in.

 But now your mom’s sick. And, fuck, you’re empty.

 He must notice it. He has to see it when he comes home to you, and your house is a mess. He has to hear it when you spend the next few weeks by the phone, arguing with your family- Luna is too busy with the baby to go home, your father doesn’t want to believe it’s real, and your mother-fuck! - she keeps telling you not to worry. Not to worry! Like the few times she calls, she doesn’t tell you offhandedly how much worse she’s getting. Like you’re not trying to keep yourself from telling her how you hear gunshots every night, or how you can’t go a week without seeing a dead body. Like you’re not protecting everyone from your feelings because surely, they have it worse. You know everyone has it worse. How do you compete with cancer and being a foot soldier in the war on drugs? You’re just some teacher. You’re just some lady in over her head. Like everyone else in this country.

     Maybe it was just a bad day when he came home that Wednesday. For both of you. One of your students’ siblings had died the day before, and you had spent the majority of the day trying not to cry alongside an eight-year-old. You had been trying to reach your mother for days, but the calls kept getting picked up by the answering machine and you couldn’t come up with any other way to say, “please call me back and tell me you’re okay”. When you finally came home, it was to a messy house - why are you so disappointed? it’s been a disaster for weeks- and you barely have enough energy to kick a few things out of a sort of path. You check your messages, willing there to be one overlooked recording of your mother’s voice assuring you she’s doing fine before her scheduled surgery, but the tape is woefully empty, just as it was yesterday and the day before. You pick the stupid machine up from the table and throw it to the ground.

 You chain-smoked three cigarettes by your window, zoning out into the ether as night descended upon you so gradually until it was suddenly dark. You thought of your student, the one who came home to a massacred older sibling, and your stomach cramps. Before you can stop yourself, you imagine your mother in the same position they described to you that morning- spread out like a starfish on the floor, eyes wide open and dull as they stare up to the ceiling, a halo of blood around their head. Your throat itches and you light a fourth cigarette.

 When you went to the refrigerator, finally, but discovered upon opening the door that you had once again forgotten to go grocery shopping. The only things that stared back at you were three-day-old pasta leftovers, some eggs, and a few beers.

 “Fucking idiot,” you said to yourself.

 You pulled out the carton of eggs and had begun to whisk them together when you heard the door creak open. You turned around to call out a greeting but bit your tongue when you saw his face. A deep scowl marked his otherwise handsome features, and he had already lit a cigarette before coming in.

 “Hey,” he said as if he was annoyed with you. You tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the eggs in front of you. He made for the couch, stripping off his jacket as he walked.

 “Fuck!”

 You turned around to see him wavering, trying to regain his balance. He reaches out and grabs the edge of the counter, but it’s stacked so high with papers that his hand slips and he’s falling back onto the floor- but not before hitting the back of his head. You run around, dropping to your knees beside him as he pulls a bloodied hand from the back of his head.

 “Hang on- “you run to the sink and grab a wet towel. Jogging back to him, you reach out to nurse the area when he snatches the rag out of your hand.

 “I can do it myself,” he says. “Why is your fucking answering machine on the floor?”

 You feel stupid and lost for words, like a child who just got scolded. You hold your hands in front of you.

 “I want to help- “

 “If you want to help, why don’t you clean the fucking apartment?” He snaps.

 Your eyes widen. He’s been grumpy for weeks, surly even, but there’s an extra bit of venom in his voice tonight. Before today, maybe you would have called him on it, snatched the rag out of his hand, and told him to go fuck himself, to go to his place and bleed over his own towels.

 But…fuck you’re tired. You have been hanging by a thread all day and the only thing that was keeping your eyes dry was the thought of curling up with him tonight. Maybe if one of the many, horrible things hadn’t happened today you would already be kicking his ass out, instead of standing there dumb and speechless, taking this abuse you don’t deserve.

 So, you let him have the rag. You turn back and walk to the kitchen and keep making the eggs.

 He has it worse. He has it worse.

  You two eat dinner in silence. You can tell he’s not pleased with the meager meal, but he just grunts and shovels it into his mouth. You barely eat, picking at little bites like a bird. Instead, you think about how chemotherapy makes people lose their appetite, and wonder if your mother can eat right now. You imagine her too-long blonde hair must have begun to fall out, and for a moment you think you can feel the sickly strands tightening around your fingers. It’s all-encompassing, and you don’t hear when Javi tries to get your attention.

 “Eloise!”

 You jerk your head up, your blank face meeting his. He frowns.

 “I said do you want a drink,”

 “Oh,” you say, softly. You shake your head. “No.”

 He rolls his eyes and pushes up from the table, going to the liquor cabinet. When he pulls the doors open, his head drops, disappointed.

 “You’re out.”

 “Oh?” You turn around. He turns and sends you a look.

 “Yeah.” He says

 “I forgot to go to the…” you wave your hand.

 “Seems like you forgot to do a lot of things,” he sighs. You frown, a bit taken aback by his annoyance. But yet again, you bite your tongue. He sighs and walks towards the table, snatching up his keys.

 “Where are you-?”

 “To get some from my apartment.” He says. He swings the door open with too much power, and when it falls closed with a crack it makes your shudder.

 Across the room, the phone rings.

 You scramble to your feet, nearly tripping over that same answering machine that had claimed Javi. You yank the phone off the hook, shoving the phone to your ear.

 “Mom?” Your voice is like a little girl’s.

 “What?” The male voice says. Your shoulders deflate.

 “Sorry,” you say, pressing your hand to your forehead. You look up as the door to your apartment swings open again, and Javi walks in with a storm cloud over his head, whiskey clutched in his fist. “He just walked in, hang on.” You hold the phone out to Javi. “Steve.”

 He lets out a sigh and walks forward, taking the phone from your hand. In a daze, you walk towards the kitchen and begin to clean up the few dishes you dirtied, your mind zoning in and out of reality. You don’t notice you’re just standing with the water running until a hand comes from the corner of your eye and switches the tap off.

 “Stop watering the pipes,” Javi says. He walks back to the table and lights a cigarette, sitting down and kicking his feet up. You turn back to look at him.

 “Everything alright?” You ask.

 He scoffs. “No, it’s not fucking alright.” He takes a drag and blows a plume of smoke out. He looks up to you, his eyes darting to the glass he left by your hand. He makes to sit up.

 “I’ll get it,” you say, and you pick it up, walking over towards him. You’re just about to hand it to him when your ankle gives, and you drop the glass, spilling his drink over his pants.

 “Goddammit!” He yelps. He looks up at you - and you know it’s not you, you know he’s had a bad day, you know there’s so much on his plate- but the snarl he has feels like a punch to the stomach.

 “I’m sorry, let me- “you reach for the napkins you thought were on the table before realizing you forgot to buy those, too. Your hand flails around you as you’re caught in your anxiety.

 “You’ve done enough,” he grumbles, pushing up and walking past you to pull a rag from the counter.

 You’re not sure why hearing him blotting his pants behind you does it, but you feel it immediately. That hot, wet trail down your face. And once that first tear is loose, you know you can’t stop. Suddenly, you’re silently weeping, snot and water running down your face as your shoulders shake and you reach up to try and hold yourself.

You let out a long breath, but it comes out as shaky, and the sounds from behind you stop.

 “…El?”

 You begin to paw at your face but realize it’s a lost cause. Shaking your head, you ignore him and walk back to your bedroom, closing the door behind you before dropping against the wall.

 You were doing so well. You hadn’t cried, you hadn’t screamed at him during his shittier moods, you had been an angel. You pushed through all of this bullshit, hoping that, even though you couldn’t compete with his life, he would notice. He would realize how much of toll your own, lesser bullshit had begun to take on you, and had some sympathy. More than that, you had hoped he would appreciate it- how you never pushed him to take care of you, how you were always there for him with a meal and warm arms, how you were soldiering on for him through all the stress. You wanted him to think you some sort of martyr, a girlfriend who was pushing all her needs down to take care of him when he needed it most. If he was emotionally unable to reciprocate, he could at least fucking notice.

 But he didn’t. He was too up his own ass, too busy at work, too concerned with being the only person in this relationship with problems that he didn’t even fucking see how much your teeth nearly cracked every time you faked a smile for him. You were mad at yourself, too- you had folded into this smaller version of yourself after making excuses for him, and now you had the gall to be sad about it? You had paved this path. You tried to protect him from your pain, thinking it was kind, when really you were coddling him.

 You feel anger rise in your chest. You clench your fists in your hands, and you’re about to scream into your knees when you hear the soft knock on the door. Furled by anger, you stand up quickly and swing the door open to see a much softer looking Javi in the doorway.

 And that takes the wind out of your sails. Instead of laying into him like you wanted, you let out a pathetic sob. Immediately he’s pulling you towards him and you’re caught in a tight hold as you sob into one of his nicer shirts.

 “El,” he says softly, and you choke out another sob on his shoulder. Carefully, the two of you descend to the floor of your bedroom as he keeps his hold on you, tracing his fingers up and down your back as you continue to cry against him.

 His tone is soothing as he circles through what little he can say - “baby” and “I’m sorry” and “it’s okay”. As your cries come to a slow, you pull away from him and try to wipe your face.

 “Baby,” he says again, reaching out to touch your cheek. You dare to make eye contact, and, fuck, it breaks your heart. He looks like a little boy who just realized he had crossed a line. You let out a pathetic little hiccup as you wipe your eyes again.

 “I’ve tried- “you stutter on your words as your tears keep falling. “I- I know it’s hard for you, really fucking hard, I know my d-day to day can’t compare to the shi-shit you see,” you try to take in a deep breath. His hand runs down your arm. “But I’m not doing okay. And I’ve tried to put that aside to t-take care of you, but - fuck, I need- “you feel yourself begin to hyperventilate. Fuck, you haven’t cried this hard since you were a kid.

 “What do you need, baby?”

 “Fuck, Javi, my mom is dying!” You yell. “She’s dying and I can’t get a hold of her. And every day I have to go to the school and hear more awful fucking stories about other kids’ families dying. I have to let them think I have any kind of answer when I fucking don’t! I’m just as lost as they are! I’m in my godamn thirties and all I want is to hug my fucking mommy, too!” You huff a few more breaths. “But I can’t, so I pretend. And I come home to you, and I- fuck, I love you so much, and I don’t want to burden you or make you take care of me when you have it so, so much worse but today- “you swallow, your mouth dry from crying - “today she was supposed to go in for surgery. And I haven’t heard anything. I spent all of lunch not eating because an eight-year-old, a fucking eight-year-old! Was telling me that she found her brother with a gunshot wound between his eyes. And I can’t do anything to help her! Just like I can’t do anything to help my fucking mother who won’t even call her daughter back to leave a message to say ‘hey! I SURVIVED SURGERY’. And maybe if I hadn’t had all of that I could put up with your shitty moods like I have been for weeks because I know it’s hard and I know you have it worse but today I just-I fucking couldn’t! I couldn’t do it! I couldn’t take YOU yelling at me when all I wanted was for you to fucking- I don’t know! Pull me in your lap and pet my hair! Ask me how my day was! Ignore my dirty apartment the way I’ve ignored your passive-aggressive moody bullshit for a month because you understand I’m not doing the fucking best right now! And I need the person who loves me to fucking act like it!” You fall forward, sobbing again. The arm on your shoulder drops, and you expect for a moment he’s going to get up and leave you to cry into the night. Instead, though, he scoots back until his back leans against the footboard of the bed. You look up in time to see him open his arms.

 “Come here,” he says.

 Too eager, you scramble over to him as he pulls you against him, petting your arms and face as you keep weeping against him.

 “I’m sorry,” he says. “I do see it. I do. I promise.”

 You hiccup and he pulls you tighter.

 “I know you have it worse- “you start.

 “Stop,” he says, pressing your head against his chest.

 You keep crying over the next half hour as he whispers sweet things to you. When you’ve exhausted yourself, you drop your head to his lap, fading in and out of consciousness as his fingers comb through your hair, soft and comforting. You don’t quite remember him urging you up and into bed, but by the time you’ve regained your senses somewhat he’s pulled your back against him, tucking his nose into the nape of your neck.

 “I’m sorry,” you say softly. He shakes his head.

 “You don’t have anything to apologize for.” He says. “Go to sleep, hermosa.”

 You do.

     The next morning is quiet. The two of your dress quickly and rush out the door, having slept past your alarm. He tells you briefly he’s got a lot on at work today, and you take it as a sign you’ll be walking back this afternoon. You nod and give him a quick peck before running up the stairs to the school, at least somewhat happy to have avoided talking about last night.

 So, you don’t expect it when you leave the school one afternoon and see him waiting for you outside, his arms crossed on his chest, aviators on, posed in front of his car like he’s in a film. You fight the urge to smirk when you drop down to the final step and his mouth jerks up at the corner.

 “You look like a cliche,” you deadpan, walking up to give him a quick kiss. Only, it’s not quick- you try to pull away tastefully, but he takes you by your waist and pulls you into a deeper kiss. You give him a swat on his shoulder but return it regardless, luxuriating in the attention. It feels nice.

 “Get in the car,” he says when he finally pulls away. You tilt your head.

  “You takin' me somewhere?”

 “Not if you don’t get in the damn car,” he swats your ass, causing you to shriek, before beginning to walk around the front. Despite yourself, you smile as you clamber in.

 You don’t ask questions throughout the whole drive, but you admit you’re a bit disappointed when you just pull back up to your apartment building. You try and mask it, hopping out of the car and waiting expectantly for him to come around and join you. He climbs the stairs quickly, beating you to the door to hold it open.

 Without thinking, you reach for your keys. It’s almost muscle memory now. You haven’t been to his place for any real time in months. You think it reminds him too much of work.

 Except, now he’s nodding you over to his door he’s begun to unlock. You come to stand by him, eying him as he fiddles with the lock. As the bolt clicks, he smiles, then turns to you.

 “Close your eyes,” he says.

 “Really?”

 “Fuck you. Yea really.”

 With a small grin on your face, you make a show of daintily closing your eyes. You see a flash of light- him waving his hands in front of your face. Convinced you really have your eyes closed, you hear the door open, then feel a warm hand taking your own. You walk inside, blindly stepping after him until he drops his hand, and you feel his hands come to rest on your shoulders.

 “Alright,” he says.

 You open your eyes, and it takes you a while to realize what he’s even made a fuss about. In front of you are two plates with a single sandwich and a side of potato chips. You’re kind of annoyed for a second- when you surprise him, it’s always with a cake or really good head, never just dinner. Dinner that’s basically a sandwich.

 You turn to look at him before noticing that the apartment has been cleaned up. You swivel around, taking in the sight, noticing the repaired answering machine has been put carefully back on the side table. You haven’t seen your home this clean in a while, and you realize that he must have done this, too. You start to say something, but he’s already pulling out your chair for you, urging you to sit down. Lost for words, you drop yourself into the seat and watch as he comes around to sit in front of you. He waits for you to say something, but when you don’t, he begins.

 “It’s not much,” he says finally. “But you were right. I’ve been a dick, and I’m not the only one with shit on my plate.” He rubs the back of his neck. “When my mom was sick…I should be better to you. For you.” He bites his lip. When you still don’t say anything, he continues. “I’m sorry, El. You’re so…good, and I’m…” he shakes his head. You reach out your hand, covering his. There’s a flash of a smile across his face. “I called sick to work. They were having me doing bullshit paperwork, anyway. Murphy can handle that.” He clears his throat. “It’s uh, not much, but a rich guy owed me a favor, and he had a smoker. I had some old rubs from Señora Garza, the one with the hands? My dad sent me them from back home a while, and I know it’s not going home, but I know you miss the food- “you reach forward and pull the top of the sandwich off.

 Brisket.

 You look up at him, and you start to cry.

 His face drops, alarmed. “Oh- no, baby- “

 “Javi,” you wipe a tear away. “This is- this is - “you bend forward and let out another small cry. Immediately, he’s on his feet, coming around to kneel beside you. Just as he’s about to say something, you lean forward and catch his face in your hands, pulling him in for a kiss. It’s long and warm, and when he finally breaks away, you’re rewarded with a bright smile.

 “You like it?”

 “I love- I love it.” You say, running a hand through his hair. “This is very sweet.”

 He looks down, pleased with himself. You lean forward and press a kiss to his forehead. He reaches up and takes your hands.

 “I…I really love you, El,” he says, not quite daring to look you in the eyes until he’s finished his sentence. “I just hope you know that.”

 You nod before pressing another kiss to his lips. “I do,” you say. “Even when…I do know, Javi.”

 He nods, and the two of you sit there, blissed out together for a moment before he lets out a breath.

 “Well, you better eat. Fucking thing took six hours to smoke, better not let it get too cold.”

 You let out a laugh as he stands and comes to sit across from you. With a smile, the two of you eat. It’s not the perfect approximation of the food back home, but it’s enough to fill you with the comfort you had been craving for weeks. Javi watches, proud of himself as you lick the remaining sauce off a finger, smiling at the flavor.

 “You did good, Peña.” You say, flicking your eyes back to him. He smiles, tossing the napkin down between the two of you before making to stand. He walks over and extends a hand down to you, and you raise your eyebrows.

 “Is there more to eat?” You ask, somewhat hopeful. It’s impossible, but if he found a way to get a malt shake down here too you think you’d have to spend the next three weeks with his dick in your mouth.

 “Something like that,” he says, urging you up. You send him a playful look as he reaches behind you and pulls the zipper to your skirt. With strong hands, he pulls your underwear and skirt down to your ankles, dropping to his knees to let you step out of them. With a twinkle in his eye, he smiles up at you.

 “Go sit on the couch,” he orders. “And keep your knees apart.”

   Turns out his surprises come with pretty good head, too.

A/N: Idk if this is of any interest but in my head Eloise is played by Phoebe Waller-Bridge. But of course, you cast her however you like!! She’s yours, too