#like. considering that my mum made a big deal of 'oh dad will be here for your birthday' and then maybe he wont??

[isaacathom]

not to be weird. and very insensitive. but if my granddad happens to die on my birthday i will lose it for the complete wrong reasons. there will be nothing sensible about it. the idea that a man who forgot my birthday for something like a decade and a half (a fact i didnt realise for that time because my PARENTS WOULD GIVE ME GIFTS IN HIS STEAD SO I WOULDNT BE LEFT OUT) would inexorably tie my birthday to his demise gives me something of the Fucking Fury. the final joke on me personally.

i dont know if this is even a probability, since i dont really know the situation, but ive thought about it and it upsets me.

not even him actually being dead. ive never really liked him, probably due to us not seeing each other very often, so ill be sad for my dad but not for me, same as when my pa died (and i actually loved my pa, but alzheimers is a real fucking cunt and so i hadnt really seen him for something like 3 years). blalshfrg

[runnning-outof-time]

Hi K, I hope you’re doing well!🤍

I just wanted to make another request, if that’s alright with you. “I’ll break before I bend.” with Tommy?

Loving your blurbs by the way!

Thanks for sending this in, Reb @peakyswritings ! I’m sorry it took me a bit to write it — I hope you like what I did with it! I decided to use my family from my Girl Dad series because it’s been too long since I’ve written for them (a thank you goes out to the anon who messed me a little while ago asking about them). Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

Just Some Puppy Love

Tommy Shelby x Reader (family from the Girl Dad series)

Warnings: none - just Tommy being overprotective of his daughter

Word Count: 922

Summary: Tommy’s unhappy about the fact that his eight year old daughter, Thea, has caught the interest of a boy in her class. (Y/N) tries to tell him that he’s overreacting.

“How was school today, darling?” (Y/N) asked her daughter as the she entered the home.

“It was great, mum!” Thea answered, a beaming smile on her face. “I even got to see Evie’s class during lunch!” she added, turning to look at her younger sister, who was nodding profusely.

“That sounds lovely,” (Y/N) smiled, thanking the family’s driver, who tipped his cap at her before returning to the vehicle. “Did anything else exciting happen?” she asked no girl in particular as the three went into the front room.

“Billy was being very nice to me! We played together at recess, and he even shared his purple crayon because mine was too little to use,” Thea was the first to speak up.

“Uncle Arthur’s Billy?” (Y/N) asked out of curiosity. She didn’t think that the cousins were in the same class, but she could have seen him during some other point in the day.

“No, Billy from my class,” Thea chirped while collecting her papers from her bookbag, “he’s always very nice to me. Sometimes we even hold hands and walk around the playground.”

“Oh,” (Y/N) drew out the word, nodding her head slowly. Thea said this in such a nonchalant way; like her mum was supposed to know about this beforehand.

“I scored the highest on my maths test today, mummy!” Evie jumped into the conversation, a beaming smile now present on her face.

“That’s lovely to hear, Evie,” (Y/N) smiled at the little girl while looking at Thea - who had now started on her homework - through the corner of her eye.

Boy, oh boy did she have something to tell Tommy this evening.

“The girls are all down?” Tommy asked as his wife entered his office later that night.

“Juniper fused a little, but they’re all asleep now,” she answered him with a smile as she made her way over to her usual spot on the chaise lounge. She couldn’t help but purse her lips to hide her smile as she finally made eye contact with him.

“What?” Tommy asked, catching onto her expression rather quickly.

“Nothin’,” she brushed him off, glancing down at her fingernails as she picked them.

“You can’t just send that expression my way and then say that it’s nothing,” he commented.

“Well I’ve just done that,” she countered.

“Tell me, (Y/N),” he demanded, his voice dropping to a low level.

“It’s nothing…” she started looking to him again, watching as his mouth opened to argue with the words she said. She continued before he could, “but you’re going to make a big deal over it.”

“Over what?” he asked with furrowed brows.

“Thea might have a boy in her class that fancies her.”

“No,” Tommy shot the idea down within seconds, “impossible.”

“Quite possible considering she told me all about it when she came home this afternoon,” (Y/N) commented. “It’s not a big deal,” she brushed the matter off then.

“Oh but it is. She’s only eight. The boys in school don’t need to be fancying her,” he insisted.

“She is eight, Tommy. There’s no harm in a little puppy love,” she flipped the narrative. Tommy didn’t seem to be buying it. “Besides, they’re not even…”

“Oi, I’m being serious here,” he cut into her defense, his eyes wide, “I’ll break before I bend on this one, (Y/N). No boys. Not for a long time.”

(Y/N) looked at her husband with pursed lips. The intense expression that he was wearing surely worked on his adversaries, but it did nothing to her. “You’re being dramatic about this,” she stated after a few moments had passed.

“I’m not,” he shook his head.

“You are,” she doubled down with a nod. “There’s no reason for a response like that. It’s not like she’s going to go and marry this boy tomorrow. They’re just holding hands on the playground and sharing crayons in class,” she explained the reality of the situation. One look in his direction told her that he wasn’t quite convinced. With a sigh, she stood from her chair. “I know…” she started, moving around his desk so that she could rest her hands on his shoulders, “she’s your first born…your little girl.”

“She is,” Tommy answered in a huff, pressing the pads of his fingers into his eyes.

(Y/N) paused for a few beats, leaning down to rest her chin on top of his head as she looked at the photograph of their three girls that sat on his desk. “You don’t need to be worrying about this stuff right now,” she said in a soft voice as she clasped her hands together over his chest. She heard him sigh as he rested his head against her arm. A smile graced her lips as she thought of something to add, “you have another ten years, at least.”

“(Y/N). Don’t,” his voice was low, the two words coming out in a warning. She couldn’t stop herself from giggling anyway.

“I’m teasing you, Tommy,” she told him, pressing her lips to his hair.

“I know. But I still don’t appreciate it,” he answered her, his voice soft now as he turned his head and pressed a similar kiss to the skin of her arm.

(Y/N) smiled at the gesture. This wouldn’t be the last conversation about boys fancying their daughters that they would have. But she knew that Tommy would do whatever it took to make sure that his girls were safe and got the best.

*tags in reblogs so that they hopefully get sent out

MASTERLIST

[babybluebex]

PLEASE i would die for italy!joe learning how to be with you in London, meeting Lily, having her freak the fuck out bc how the fuck did you not KNOW who he was ???? love you love italy calling pls do little blurbs i neeeeeeeed him (emergency) (pls)

(psst @icallhimjoey you dropped this) (i hope this helps fix the emergency) italy calling masterlist

“Joe should be here any minute,” you told Lily. “He had a meeting across town.”

“Oh, no worries!” Lily said. “I still can’t believe that you actually managed to track him down!” 

“Well, he tracked me down,” you reminded her. “But yeah, what luck that we’re both from London. I can hardly believe it.” 

“Are you sure he’s not a stalker and moved to London just to be with you?” Lily giggled, and you huffed out a laugh. 

“No, he’s got a London accent,” you said. “And his mum lives here, and so does his dad, and—”

“You’ve met his parents?” Lily asked. “Moving fast!” 

“Oi!” you chuckled. “It wasn’t a big deal, it was just coffee with his mum, and his dad popped ‘round while I was at his flat one day and it sorta happened, we didn’t make an event out of it or anything.” 

“That’s cute, though,” Lily said. She sat down on the couch beside you and swirled her wine in her glass, and she said, “Any last minute things I should know about your man before I meet him?”

“No,” you shrugged. “He’s fine, he just… When he comes home from work, it takes him a while to unwind, so he’ll be really high energy for a few minutes when he first shows up. But just as long as you’re prepared for that…”

“A high energy man?” Lily scoffed. “That’s the least of the problems he could have. Bad breath? A weird cowlick? Nothing?”

“He sometimes smells of cigarettes,” you considered. “But I think it’s sorta sexy.” 

“That’s not bad!” Lily said, lightly hitting your shoulder. “Does he have any flaws?”

You chewed your lip as you thought. “He’s a little messy sometimes,” you said. “But not, like, gross or anything. A little disorganized. But he’s always jetting around and he’s pretty much living out of his suitcase right now, so I get it.” 

“He travels a lot for work?” Lily asked, and you nodded. 

Just then, the keys rattled in the doorknob, and Joe bustled in. He looked handsome, leather jacket and t-shirt with his sunglasses nestled in his dark curls, and he smiled at you when he saw you. “Hey, you,” he said cheerfully, setting his bag on the dining table and coming to you. He settled a firm kiss on your forehead as he passed by you to the kitchen, and, as he retreated, he called, “How was your day?”

“Fine,” you called back. “Lil and I opened a bottle of chard, if you want some.” 

“Mmm, can’t,” Joe hummed. “I met with my trainer for Gladiator today, and he’s started me a strict diet, and that includes no alcohol.” 

“Really?” you frowned. “Not even a pint?” 

“Not even a bleeding pint,” Joe sighed. He came back to the living room, shrugging off his jacket, and he wrinkled up his eyebrows at the sight of Lily on the couch. “God, I’m sorry, where are my manners? I’m Joe, you must be Lily.” 

Lily was uncharacteristically quiet as she shook your boyfriend’s hand, and she took a healthy drink of her wine before she spoke. “This is the guy you met in Italy?” she asked, eyeing Joe down as he hung up his jacket by the door, then retrieved his bag. 

“One and the same,” you said. You recognized the look on her face— it was the same look that you had seen before, on people’s faces before they asked Joe for a picture on the street. She was thoroughly starstruck, and it made you smile. 

“Babe!” Lily said quickly. “You could have told me you were dating Eddie Munson!”

Joe did his loud, boisterous chortle, deep from his chest, and he flopped down next to you on the couch, throwing his arm around you. “To be fair!” you started over Joe’s laughter. “To be fair, I didn’t even recognize him when I met him, so how could I have told you when I didn’t even know?” 

“But you could have told me when you realized,” Lily said. “And how did you not recognize him? I mean, he’s everywhere!”

“His face was familiar,” you started. “And I knew his name, I just didn’t know where I knew it from. Honestly, I— I really thought he was one of your ex’s from uni, and that’s how I knew his name.”

“I wish!” Lily said. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Joe.” 

“Nice to meet you too,” Joe said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” 

“Have you?” Lily asked. “Good things?”

“Only the best,” Joe said. 

“I’ve heard good things about you too,” Lily said. Then, she looked at you, confused, and she asked, “Wait, this is the guy that you told me about, how he’s really good at giving—”

“Lily!” you started quickly, cutting her off, and Joe sputtered out a laugh. “Some things are said in confidence, not to be repeated!”

“Aw, darling,” Joe started teasingly. “Did you tell your bestie that I give good head? That’s adorable.” 

“No, I didn’t, I told her nothing,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Even if I had told her that… I mean, shut up, you know it’s true, you don’t need that ego boost.” 

“You’re going to make my head get big,” Joe said. “I won’t be able to fit my wig anymore.” 

“Wig?” Lily repeated. “Like, your Eddie wig?” She gasped, and she said, “Wait, does that mean Eddie’s coming back?” 

“Oh, dear,” Joe said softly, his dark eyes widening. “I’ve done it now.” 

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Uncle Judd (Judd and trans!nephew!reader)

Word Count: 906

Warning: Transphobic parents, not sure if there’s anything else, give me a shout if you spot something

"Uncle Judd?" You say when the door swings open, "Can I- Can I come in?" 

"Of course, what's wrong, Doll?" He asked, opening the door for you to come in, he quickly took your bag, putting it by the door before shutting it. He led you into the living room, motioning for you to sit down, which you did. He knelt in front of you. 

"I er, I think I made a big mistake," You said, sniffing as more tears fell down your face. 

"Doll, what happened?" 

"Promise you won't be mad too if I tell you?" You ask, bottom lip quivering as you looked up at your uncle. 

"Of course not, you can tell me anything, I'll never be mad at you," 

You took a deep breath, "I told mum and dad I'm transgender," You paused for his reaction. Not seeing a change in his expression a put formed in your chest. Oh no. "You're against it too, aren't you?" You voice broke at the idea of it. 

"No, no, not at all," Judd immediately reassured. "I'm so proud of you for realising this and telling us all. What did your parents say?" 

"Either I stop being trans and go to conversion therapy, or get out of the house and stay out," You replied, Judd ignored the flare of anger in his chest. 

"I'm so sorry they said that, I will go down there and beat some sense into my brother if you'd like? Hell as soon as Gracie gets back…" 

You shook your head, "No, no, that's okay," You said, "I just… I didn't know where else to go and-" 

"Hey I'm always here for you, you're like a-" Judd paused when the word 'daughter' formed on his lips, "Well, I guess you're like a son to me, you can stay here with Grace and I as long as you want," 

“Thanks Uncle Judd,” You replied quietly. 

“Hey, we’re family,” He said strongly, “And tomorrow if you want, you, Gracie, and I can go shopping for some new clothes,”

“Deal,” Grace got home a few hours later and was more than happy to see you there, you and Judd playing on the playstation. She gave you a smile when you explained that you were transgender, she told you she would support you no matter what. She also told you that your parents were wrong and that she would happily go round there and knock some sense into them - which made both you and Judd laugh, knowing that she was serious and would actually do it. 

You all sat on the sofa after that, conversation, watching a movie to take your mind off of everything. After the movie, they helped you get settled in the guest room that they reserved for you when you came to stay over - which was once a week. When you were settled in, you gave them a hug before you went to bed. 

The next morning you felt good, all things considered. You all got ready for the day before making your way to the mall. You were nervous. And excited. You were feeling a little of everything, actually. Mostly happy that your Aunt and Uncle understood and accepted you. 

“Well I have never seen a young fella look so handsome,” Judd said, you beamed up at him, hair freshly cut, Grace trailing behind you with a smile on her face.

“Really?” You asked, wide eyes, “I look-?”

“You look like true Ryder in the making, Son,” He grinned, clapping you on the shoulder. “Come along now, let’s get you some new clothes,”

They brought you a whole new wardrobe after that, when you got back to your new bedroom, you found a small pile of slightly old and faded tops, when you turned to your uncle with a confused look he grinned. 

“They were mine when I was in college,” He began, “I figured that, now, after all these years, maybe they can be put to use,” You beamed up at him, throwing your arms around him as you thanked him. “If you want, you can come to the station with me, come and chill out?”

“Would I have to tell them?”

“Not if you don’t want to,” Judd said with a shrug, “This is your information, this is about you - you don’t owe no one an explanation, ever,” 

You grinned, “Thanks Uncle Judd,” You thought for a moment, “I think I will tell them. Then we could count how many gay people are in the room,” You laughed, Judd chuckled with you, shaking his head. 

“I brought you something while you and Gracie were looking for somewhere to eat,” He said before reaching behind him and into a bag you didn’t notice was there. He pulled out a medium sized plastic bag that was soft. You furrowed your eyebrows, “Just open it,” He rolled his eyes fondly. You grinned back at him, opening the bag, the blue, pink, and white of the trans flag stood out brightly and made you smile so hard your cheeks hurt. “What d’you think?”

“I love it,”

“I thought it would look real good up here,” Judd said, motioning to the space above your bed. 

“I agree,”

“Good good, we’ll do that tomorrow then, yeah?”

“Definitely,”

“You boys better not make a mess or ruin that wall,” Grace chimed as she walked past, you both snickered.

“Yes Ma’am,” Judd replied with a grin.

[mouthfulloftoothpasterry]

Hooked

Summary: Harry and Y/n meet again. This time spending more time together and getting to know each other. 

warnings/ disclaimers: Swearing, mentions of death, mentions of childbirth. 

Harry was out searching for a book. He had left Loralie with his mother for the day since he had some errands to run and it would be a busy day. He had finished all of his books and he was on the search for another, maybe even some extra ones for his classroom. He had stopped by his favorite coffee shop and ordered his favorite black coffee to start his day of errands, then he went to the market to get everything for dinner tonight- he thought he might as well get it out of the way since he hates grocery shopping.

Now he’s on the way to a bookstore, he didn’t want to order it on Amazon or just go to a big chain store so he did a quick google search and found a small book store a block down the road from the coffee shop he had gone to. He wanted to find the book burning in water, drowning in flame- his sister had recommended it to him and now he was itching to read it.

He made his way to the bookstore, it looked like a homey place just from the outside of the store. It was a rust colored brick with two sconces on either side of the top of the book shop, a rather tall building- possibly a flat at the top. Harry looks at the cacti peeking through the windows, little flower stickers to decorate.

Harry walks into the book shop, opening the door making the golden bell at the top of the door frame sound off. As soon as Harry steps in he notes the warm scent, it smells like the owner had been baking cookies. “Hello!” He hears a cheerful voice sing while he steps toward the poetry aisle in search of the book. “Is there anything I could help you with today?” He hears the voice again making him turn his head. To his surprise it’s Y/n, he’s been thinking about her. “Oh, hi.” He says bashfully, smiling and stepping over to the cashier counter she was behind.

Y/n smiles, continuing to add price tags on the back of her new shipment of books. She had started her little business officially a bit after she had gotten pregnant with Milo. Milo’s dad had left her after she broke the news to him, they were in their early twenty’s (Y/n being twenty one and him being twenty two) so it was understandable that he didn’t want children yet but the way he dealt with the situation was just dramatic and too much on Y/n. So she put everything into her little book shop, she took out a loan and bought this place, starting planning and putting her all into it, it wasn’t easy but it was worth it.

“Hi Harry.” She says, adding a book to the stack. Harry blushes at her tone again, she’s hard to read. “Um… do you happen to have burning in water, drowning in flame?” He asks, whirling around her display of different styles and colors of bookmarks. He is a twenty six year old man, why is acting like one of his students who thinks he’s handsome? Y/n laughs, nodding while she pulls her mug up to her lips- Harry thinks it’s hot chocolate (and he’s right). “It’s in poetry, first aisle, third shelf, second row.” She says, impressing Harry in how she has memorized every single spot of her book store.

Harry gives her a tight nod, walking over to the poetry section and looking for the book. “Is this your place?” Harry asks, making conversation while the rest of the store is dead silent.

“Yeah, me and Milo live in the flat upstairs.” Y/n admits. Harry’s ears perk up, she didn’t say anything about a partner. He walks back to the counter placing his book down, not handing it over to her yet. “When did you open this place?” He questions, looking around the shop. He sees some crystals, some candles- that both look up for sale and also her personal ones. It’s cute.

“After I got pregnant with Milo. Right after Xavier left me.” She says, leaving Harry wondering. “Xavier is…?” Y/n sighs, rolling her eyes a bit. It’s only their second time meeting and she’s already giving him her sob story. “He’s what would be Milo's father.” She says, picking at her bare nails. She doesn’t consider Xavier Milo's father, he’s never been there for him so he’s not a father. Harry’s lips form a tight line, “um, Loralies mum died… so… we’ve all got baggage.” He laughs, trying to cut the tension.

Loralies mum had died, she died during childbirth. She already had a particularly painful and rough pregnancy with Lora and that was just extremely unexpected, Harry just thanks his stars everyday that his little one is safe with him. “That’s awful, Harry. I‘m sorry.” Harry smiles at her, “it’s okay. I’ve got my Lora so I’m okay.” Y/n nods, smiling and grabbing the book from between his fingers. “She’s a sweet girl.” She compliments.

Harry nods, feeling a little cocky over how well he has raised his daughter. “Is this all for you?” She asks, pulling out a small brown bag with the logo and name on it- they are cute. “Yes please.” Harry politely says, making her laugh under her breath. “If this is your first time here? You get a free bookmark with every book you purchase if it is.” She says, nodding over to the bookmarks. Harry nods, looking through the bookmarks and picking a random Fleetwood Mac one- cute, he thinks. Y/n adds the bookmark to the bag, setting it infront of him. “13.22” she says, Harry fishing his wallet out.

“Are you doing a lot today?” He asks, motioning down to all the books stacked around her while he hands her a ten and four singles. She shrugs, “the usual.” Y/n says, handing him back his change. Harry thinks for a second, pausing his response making Y/n a little nervous. “I could help?” Harry offers, setting his coffee on the table. Y/n gives him a questionable look, sharpening one of her eyes at him. “You want to put tags on books and reorganize with me?” She asks, making Harry laugh. He nods, putting a bookmark back in its place “see, I’m already helping.” He says cheekily.

Y/n smiles, shaking her head. “I guess you can help.” She says.

Soon enough they are sat on the brown carpet, mountains of books around them. Y/n has a blanket wrapped around her and Harry has his legs stretched out. Y/n is tagging books while Harry is setting by the book shelf closest to them organizing. “I swear they put something in the water fountain at that school, the kids are always running and screaming around my classroom while I’m trying to talk about how Van Gogh cut off his own ear.” Harry says, making Y/n loudly giggle, thinking about how Milo probably gives him a horrible time on Wednesdays.

“You like working where Loralie is?” She asks, Harry of course nodding. Loralie is his baby, he loves knowing she’s just up the stairs- especially if she were to get sick or hurt he would be right there to take care of her. “Yeah, I wish I could always be with Milo but one of us has to make the money.” She jokes which makes Harry laugh.

“She always comes waddling into my classroom screaming for me- which disrupts the class but I don’t care.” He shrugs, his mind going back to Loralie. “Oh shit, I’ve got to pick her u-“

“Hi! How are you, baby!” Y/n cheers, Milo running toward her then crashing into her in a hug. Y/n’s friend Mikaela had babysat Milo for the day while Y/n tried to get as much work done as she could. Usually on the weekends (like today) Milo will be in the store with her… which tends to distract her. “Um, I’ve got to go but we should do this again? Maybe… over dinner?” Harry asks, Y/n’s face lighting up.

“Are you asking me on a date?” She teases, Harry blushing and nodding. Y/n laughs, slipping her phone from her pocket, “take my number and we can schedule that date you’re begging me for.” She teases.

Harry gets her number, thanking her for the book and letting him stay before he slips out. Now he’s got to get back to Loralie. But he’s got a date!

**

Later that night when Harry and Loralie are practicing her memorizing her ABCs his phone beeps. He ignores his at first, just expecting it to be a stupid text from his friend Mitch, but once he looks down he sees Y/n’s contact name. “Keep going, bug.” Harry says, grabbing his phone from the carpet while they set on the floor of the living room, unlocking his phone.

Hii, im free next Friday :) let me know if that works with your schedule!

Harry laughs at her cute little smiley faces, trying to think up a response that doesn’t make him sound a thousand years older than her. The tip of his tongue sticks out while he types back his response, his eyebrows knitted in concentration.

Hello! Friday works, how about 5:30? I can pick you up.

He lays his phone back down and helps Loralie with her letters, pulling her onto his lap. “D is for Daddy!” She cheers, making Harry smile, chuckling and kissing her round cheeks while she squeals. Harry hears his phone ding, grabbing it and reading the response, thanking god she answered. He thought his heart would explode out of his chest. It was beating so hard.

That sounds good ☺️ see you then!

Harry got her to say yes, but now he has to deal with the anxiety of actually going on the date. What should he wear, where should they go? Should he be opening the door and pulling out her chair or is that not in-in dating anymore? He hasn’t dated since Loralies mum and his baby is two years old now, it’s been quite a long time since he dipped his toe into trying to charm a woman. He just hopes he’s still got it.

****************************

The day is here. Loralie is with her grandma so Harry can get ready for the date. He’s been panicking and running all around his little house. He showered and smothered himself in lotion and his best cologne- he wanted to smell nice for her. He was adding leave in conditioner to his hair (which he hardly remembers to do) to make it more silky and the curls look a bit prettier than they usually do- he doesn’t know much about hair, he just does what his sister tells him what his hairdresser tells him he should do.

He planned out an outfit, a pair of tan dress pants with a white tank top and a cardigan over it. He had thought over the outfit a bit too much, was it too casual for the date? Was the cardigan too much? He decided against his thoughts and layers some pearls on, sliding his rings on that were in a jewelry dish, placed in there before his shower. He takes a look in the mirror, readjust his cardigan before he gives himself a little nod. He feels good about this.

He makes his way over to Y/n flat, walking up the metal steps to her flat and knocking on the door. When she opens the door he notices just how amazing her home smells, just like her book shop. He needs to remember to ask her where she gets her candles. “Hi,” Harry smiles, looking his date up and down. She was dressed nicely. It was a sage green dress with spaghetti straps, it stopped a couple inches above her knee. Harry thought it was cute.

She paired it with gold jewelry and a black cross body bag. Dirty white vans to go along with it that added a child-like feel to the outfit. Harry thought that was cute too.

“Hi,” she smiles, glancing behind her. “You look nice.” Harry says, suddenly feeling hot. Y/n laughs under her breath, thanking him. “You look nice as well.” Harry smiles bashfully, looking down at his feet. “Thank you”

Y/n says her goodbyes to Milo, hugging and kissing him before thanking her friend again for watching him. It’s the same one from last week, Mikaela. They get into Harry’s car, a bit of awkward silent before Y/n breaks it, Harry stopping the tapping of his fingers along to the low radio once her voice interrupts it. “So, where are we going?” She asks, smoothing her dress out against her thighs.

Harry laughs, he’s not prepared for dates and for some reason he hadn’t thought about the most important part. “I’ll eat anywhere to be honest.” Y/n admits, looking through her window at all the different places.

Harry was looking around in a panic and he finally pulled something out of his ass that sounded good, especially on his teacher salary. “Olive Garden?” Harry says, trying to say it confidently but it definitely comes out as more of a question. Y/n’s eyes light up, she’s in the mood for bottomless salad and breadsticks. “That sounds heavenly.” And Harry is happy to hear that.

They walk into the busy restaurant, instantly getting escorted to a table. Harry is happy they didn’t have to wait- that would have just been embarrassing since he threw this together last minute. They sat in the booth, sliding in and getting comfortable. “So, how’s the bookstore?” Harry asks, pulling apart his breadstick. Y/n knocks her shoe with his under the table, she thinks it’s cute how bashfully he can get when just asking a simple question. “It’s good. How are your little art students?” Harry playfully rolls his eyes at her choice of words.

“It’s good. They are doing self portraits.” Y/n laughs, her eyes widening.

“How’s that going?” Harry laughs, shaking his head. “They look like shittier versions of Picasso’s paintings.” Y/n dramatically gasps through her laughs, “aren’t you supposed to worship the ground that man walks on? Why would you say that?” Harry rolls his eyes once again, chuckling at her. “I’m just behind honest!”

Their date goes on the same, they order their food, giggling while they eat and even getting into a little food fight with the leftover breadsticks. (They weren't being humble, they asked for another basket) They finished their food, “That was fun.” Y/n admits smiling. Harry nods, taking the check and opening his wallet. “Here,” y/n holds out her card, Harry shaking his head. “I’ll pay.” Harry shrugs her off, handing his card tucked in the black check book the waiter had brought over back to him before she can further protest.

Y/n scoffs, throwing another breadstick at him that he tried to catch but it’s too greasy. “Hey! I thought we had a truce?!” Harry questions her. She shakes her head, apparently swearing off the truce. Harry shrugs, thanking the waiter when he brings his card back along with their mints. “You better sleep with one eye open then.” Harry says, standing up and waiting for her. She laughs, standing up and pulling her bag over her shoulder. “I have a three year old, I basically sleep with them both open. You’re nothin’.” She says, Harry nodding his head in agreement. He knows just how she feels.

They drive back to her flat, Harry of course walking her to her door. “I had so much fun tonight.” Harry says, looking down before he looks up at Y/n. She smiles, blushing. She hasn’t dated since Xavier and she admired that to Harry tonight, they both admitted that they haven’t dated since their children’s parents so they felt a lot comfortable knowing they were both rusty.

“Me too, you’re a really sweet guy, Harry.” She says. She needs to remember to thank her forgetful little Milo for leaving his folder in Harry’s classroom. “Thanks for agreeing to go out with me. I was pretty nervous.” Harry admits a bit sheepishly. Harry is a bit giddy on the inside about them hitting it off so well, they were having the best conversation and at times they were getting extremely loud, probably annoying the people around them, but they didn’t care, they had fun. “Yeah, I was nervous as hell but I haven’t had this much fun in a while. Thanks for tonight.” Y/n smiles, leaning in for a kiss.

Harry’s eyes widen, but he still kisses her back. He hasn’t kissed anyone in so long he thought he had forgot how to for a second. His hands come up to cup her jaw, moving his lips with hers. “I’ll see you soon. Have a good night.” Y/n smiles, opening her door with red cheeks. Harry nods, a little flabbergasted. “Have a good night.” He says, trudging down her steps.

And now he’s hooked on her.

Tag list: @romionefp @iaalien @hopeyoustaythenight @evanjh

If you liked this please reblog and please tell me what you thought of it ☺️ thank you for reading!! I hope you all like the series so far I’m writing part three right now so it should come out soon ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

[palettepainter]

How the teachers play favourites

We all know Aizawa and All Might have their favourite UA child, Shinsou and Midoryia. And yeah I know Bakugo and Todoroki are also their UA kids but shhh, Midoryia and Shinsou where the first UA kids they adopted. 

And you can’t tell me Aizawa and All Might play favourites with them, All makes Deku lunch like..hello?? Aizawa gave Shinsou his capture weapon, HELLO?? 

So here are some dumb headcannons for how the other teachers play favourites to their UA kids

Ectoplasm and his UA kid Jiro:

-When he gives back marked tests he’ll sometimes write small encouraging notes for his students to read, he does this to some students when he feels they need a pick up but he always leaves a positive one on Jiro’s 

-During lessons where students are allowed to study in the lesson Ectoplasm lets them listen to music on their phones, everyone thought he would say no so everyone - mostly Kaminari and Mineta - peer pressured Jiro to ask. To no ones shock except Jiro’s Ectoplasm replied with a calm “Sure, but only if you use your headphones”

-Jiro talks about new songs that have been released and Ectoplasm will listen to her geek out about music

-Sometimes Jiro will tell Ectoplasm what her and the rest of the band (herself, Kaminari, Momo, Tokoyami and Bakugo) have been doing and if they’re working on any new songs in-between their studies. Jiro jokes that Ectoplasm is their biggest fan but Ecto is genuinely supportive of their band and admires their creativity

-Jiro once entered maths class and said “Hey miter Ecto, what’s shakin’ bacon?” and while the whole class was stood there in silence thinking Ectoplasm wouldn’t reply he said “Not much double dutch” and then Jiro went to her desk as thought nothing out of the ordinary happened. Kaminari tried to do the same thing to him and Ectoplasm just went “Kaminari your shoe lace is undone-” Jiro was very amused

Powerloader and Hatsume:

-This one started out more like this - Powerloader: Who’s idiot kid is that?....*realises it’s Hatsume* Oh shit- THAT’S MY IDIOT KID-

-Hatsume showed up at the design studio and never left basically, so Powerloader got used to her. He knows Hatsume overworkers herself so he keeps spare energy bars, fruit and bags of crisps in the design studio. He brought a small microwave and kettle for the winter so Hatsume could make hot drinks and food since she insisted on finishing her ‘babies’

-Say’s he doesn’t worry but still insists she goes to recovery girl when she gets a scratch or blows up the studio, sometimes dragging her there himself, ranting all the way about how she’s an idiot. One day Hatsume ended up breaking her leg during a bad explosion and Powerloader very nearly had a heart attack-

He kept a close eye on her while she worked from a wheelchair at her desk

-Makes her wear a god forsaken jumper in the winter when the design studio is freezing, stupid dumb teenager you’ll catch your death of cold

Present Mic and Kaminari:

-This man is shameless with playing favourites

-He greets Kaminari with his signature finger guns and an enthusiastic “AAAYYYY KAMINARI!” Kaminari shoots finger guns back with an “Ayyyyy teach hozit hanging?!” Everyone in class knows Kaminari is a teachers pet despite how Kaminari insists he’s not

-Mic knows Kaminari has a crush on Jiro and Kaminari is an embaressed child who is like “omg msiter Mic STOP-” while Present Mic is coeing and being all like “Aw that’s adorable!”. He always puts Jiro and Kaminari together in group projects, Kaminari shoots him a flustered glare cuz Present Mic knows what he’s doing 

-Kaminari teaches him meme/slang language for laughs and everyone in class hates it, Kaminari finds it hilarious. Eventually Mic gets the hang of it but he sucked at using the language correctly at first 

-Calls him lil listener and Kaminari calls him loud mouth 

Midnight and Yaoyorozu

-Another teacher who is shameless with playing favourites

-Midnight being a teacher does have to enforce the dress code if she sees a student wearing their uniform incorrectly - loose tie, untucked shirt, odd brightly coloured socks, chockes, etc. Midnight really doesn’t care all that much if a student’s socks aren’t the sae colour as their shoes...buuut she’s a teacher so she has to enforce it. Except when it comes to Yaoyorozu. Yaoyorozu one day had to wear light blue socks into UA as her tights where damaged, and she was worried she’d be called out for not following the dress code. Midnight saw, and turned a blind eye. She was in the middle of telling someone off for not dressing correctly, saw Yaoyorozu with the odd coloured socks and went “-Oh hello Yaoyorozu you have a good day sweetheart! ^^”

-Always complients Yaoyorozu when she comes into class. Oooo did you try a new hair style? Honey it suits you! New note book, such cursive hand writting! Glad to see you got those new pair of shoes, trying a different shoe brand this time? Very stylish!

-Had been tempted to kick Mineta like a beech ball on more then one occasion when he wouldn’t back off from Yaoyorozu

-The kind of teacher to say “I taught her that~” when Yaoyorozu uses one of her combat techniques

-Girl gossip. She tries to guess who Yaoyorozu will get with, meanwhile Momo is just blushing and blabbering because that isn’t very appropriate for history work. Midnight bats a hand is like “Pft I’m the teacher I can gossip in my own lesson”. Puts her with Todoroki during group projects and she, like Mic, 100% knows what she’s doing

Hounddog and Shishida

-Hounddog: I am not soft....*holds up Shishida* EXCEPT FOR MY 1B CHILD WHO IS VERY STRONG AND HE’S GOING TO BE A HERO DON’T @ ME HE’S AMAZING-

-Encourages Shishida to let loose with his beast form, with his rish upbringing Shishida isn’t used to embracing his more wild and uncaring side, having been raised to always be propper and polite when not in combat. Hounddog geuenily puts in effort to be a little less grumbly around Shishida cuz he doesn’t wanna peer pressure him, he’s giving him time

-Keeps a spare cloth so Shishida can clean his glasses off when and if they get dirty from training

-I imagine Shishida having a quirk called beast and having a more posh upbringing prolly has a little bit of anxiety, having to always be polite and propper even with a quirk called Beast. Sometimes he vents to Hounddog about this and he listens, insisting that it’s better Shishida get it off his chest when he apologises for drowning on

-During training Hounddog basically throws him about like a beanie bag at first, Shishida was still a kid and Hounddog had years of experience. The day Shishida finally knocked him down with a hard punch to the side of Hounddog’s face he felt...bad. But Hounddog was beaming! Shishida may have cried a little bit

Snipe and Hagakure (picked hagakure inspired by a suggestion @snipe-enthusiast made a while ago)

- Protective af

-Hagakure screams the innocent dorky girl of 1A, and thought Snipe makes sure none of the girls deal with Mineta’s bull while he’s around he’s especially protective of Hagakure just cuz...well, have you seen the way she acts? She’s innocent, peppy, happy, cheerful, and Snipe does not want that tainted by Mineta’s preverted ways

-After the exam with Hagakure and Shoji Snipe apologized for what happened and so did Hagakure, admitting that she over-reacted. 

-Hagakure admits one day to Snipe that she’s worried she won’t make it as a hero cuz her quirk isn’t flashy like her classmates. Snipe reassures her by saying that no one thought he could be a hero when he was little (this headcannon was inspired by @frelmidja and a post this did with Snipe) - guns weren’t exactly considered heroic and he got teased in the beginning when his quirk first activated. He told Hagakure to keep working hard and that she had the potential and the drive to be a hero, Hagakure was very thankful for the reassurance

-Hagakure really wants to see what Snipe’s face is like and constantly asks him if he could take his mask off and show them, Snipe has yet to break and take off his mask but Hagakure is very persistant 

Cementoss and Bondo

-Chill babies, they sit and have tea together. 

-I imagine Bondo to be the kind of person to accidentally call Cementoss dad, it happened once during one on one training and he got so embarrassed. Cementoss kept telling him it was fine but Bondo left in a hurry after

-Bondo tried to make certian shapes out of his glue one time but ended up getting himself stuck, Cementoss helped him out and reassured a disheartened Bondo that everyone makes mistakes and that he was progressing well 

-Being one of the taller boys in 1B he often has to hold back Monoma from going over to 1A when Kendo isn’t around, often tries to diffuse conflict before it gets worse, Cementoss is very proud

-After one on one training the two go to the lunch hall to get a hot drink after cleaning themselves up, Bondo tries to bring a different type of tea sweet each time - something like biscuits or chocolate. Cementoss returns the favour by bringing Bondo manju to have after his training

Thirteen + Gunhead and Uraraka

-Proud mum and dad because I couldn’t decide between the two

-Uraraka researches into the affects of zero gravity and how to better use her power, due to this she’s become a bit of a space nut and enjoys thinks like star gazing. When she was a kid and saw Pro Hro Thirteen on the TV she was ecstatic! Her parents brought her a Pro Hero Thirteen plush on her seventh birthday, Uraraka still has that toy. One day the toy got misplaced in the students washing and got mixed up with the teachers, Thirteen was a bit confused why a plush of her - and a well loved one by how old it looked - ended up in the wash. Uraraka hurridly rushes over to explain when Thirteen comes into the students dorms asking if it belonged to anyone. When Uraraka explained she got it when she was younger cuz she’s a big fan of Thirteen...heart squeeze

-Asked Uraraka if she could teach her the gunhead martial arts move, Uraraka was so honored she got to teach one of her idols a combat move! Through the gunhead martial arts move Thirteen met Gunhead and the two become good friends

-One day when Gunhead is teaching Thirteen the martial arts move with Uraraka to help demonstrate Uraraka wanted to take a picture of them all together. Gunhead was too tall to fit into the picture so he kneeled down to be at the same height as Thirteen and Uraraka (he did bunny ears behind Thirteen’s head and Uraraka thought it was adorable)

-Gunhead pretty much puts two and two together with Uraraka having a crush on Midoryia, so one day when Thirteen mentions in passing conversation how giddy Uraraka gets when she’s around this one green haired kid Gunhead just chuckles behind his hand. Thirteen and Gunhead think it’s very sweet how Uraraka totally has a crush on him (unlike Mic and Midnight thoug they don’t force anything and let Uraraka figure things out on her own)

[xreaderbooks]

Hidden (2)

Pair: Draco Malfoy x reader, Sibling! Harry Potter x reader

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: Language, (unedited asf)

Summary: Draco has to prove his love for her, while Y/N deals with the effects of the breakup. 

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long, y’all have been waiting a while for this one. Anyway kinda rushed to finish. Send me any requests for Draco or any of the character you see on my master list, I hope you enjoy :)

Masterlist - Part 1

"Prove it." Those words you spoke ran through Dracos head every time he saw you in the hall laughing with your friends, every time he had a class with you, every time he passed by the room of requirements. He lied awake on his bed each night missing your touch. Normally that would be the case considering the secrecy of your relationship but at least before he had memories of whatever lingered from the hours prior to when he was alone. He at least had that to hold on to. Now, thanks to what he admits are his cowardice-- he has nothing. He's alone without the one thing, the one person that made his miserable life mean something; you.

You weren't getting along any better. You tried to put up a front, knowing that you'd concern your friends and your brother. They obviously didn't know what was going on and they would be confused why your mood suddenly changed from blissfully happy to down and depressed. So you go on with your life as it would have been before your breakup with Draco or even before you had even gotten together with him in the first place. Cedric has been a big help in keeping your mind off of the platinum blond-haired boy, a good buddy is what you liked to call him when Harry asks what goes on between you and Cedric. At times you wish you would've liked Cedric as he liked you. Unfortunately, dark, brooding, and emotionally unavailable is your type.

A hand on your shoulder brought you back into reality, you forgot you were with Cedric sitting by the black lake. "Thinking about him again?" He asked.

"No." You lied, even though you knew that he knew you by now and that you most likely were thinking about Draco. He doesn't know that guy you were thinking about was Draco, he never pried. It's not like you're like this all the time either but the rare times you were, you would zone out, replaying certain memories when they came up with what you would be doing at the time.

"It's okay if you were."

"I wasn't."

"Alright, Alright, Whatever you say." He puts his hands up in surrender. You playfully shoved him.

"We should go back anyway, I have potions in 30 and it's a long walk." You motioned your hand so that he would follow you.

"Have you ever thought that maybe if you put a little pep in your step, you'd get to class faster?"

You shot him a glare. "First of all it's freezing, Snape is lucky I'm even showing up to his class at all instead of cuddled up in my bed with my warm blankets. Second of all if I put a 'pep in my step' I'll be out of breath." He chuckled.

"A bit of exercise could help with shortness of breath when walking y'know."

"How dare you suggest such an activity around me!" You stopped in your tracks putting a hand to your chest. "The word exercise personally offends me, sir."

Cedric stutters out an apology while laughing. "I-I am sorry Y/N, I promise not to mention your lack of physical fitness."

"That would be greatly appreciated." You let out a 'hmph' sound as you turned your back on him, continuing your trek to class.

~~~

A full day of classes had you exhausted and prepared to drop on your bed. You fought your eyes from closing as you walked back to your dorm. You hadn't even noticed you were bumped into someone while walking until you heard them shout, "Watch where your-" He paused noticing it was you.

'Fuck' you groaned internally. In your tired state, you forgot to go the other, longer way back to your dorm. It was a new system you set for yourself, instead of going the way you and Draco would usually walk through to get a glimpse of each other throughout the days you were together, you now walked the halls you knew he never liked to go through because of how it would be packed by students rushing to get to class.

You rolled your eyes at his attitude, you knew it wasn't meant for you. He gave you a once-over. You stuttered a quick apology moving away from him. He grabbed your wrist, you glanced at where he held his grip and to his eyes.

"Sorry." He muttered. "Can we talk?"

As much as you wanted to talk to him, you weren't mentally or emotionally prepared for this conversation. Your mind was racing with the different things he would say. Did he find someone else? Does he want to get back together and actually try? Or revert back to your old ways of sneaking around?

"I-"

"It doesn't have to be right at this moment." He leaned in to whisper in your ear. "How 'bout our usual time and place?"

"Fine." You yanked your wrist back from his grip and walked away from him.

~~~

Several hours later, you found yourself in front of the room of requirements, shaking your head you stepped inside.

"Alright, I'm here now what do you want?"

"You."

"You know I'm not yours anymore."

"Y/N you were always mine, let's stop this ridiculousness and go back to how we were before." He took a step towards you, you stepped back. You wanted to keep your distance, you didn't know how much restraint you had to keep yourself away from him. You knew being too close would lead you into his trap. He'd kiss you and tell you sweet nothings and you would believe them.

"I don't want to go back to the ways it was before!" You yelled, there were tears burning in your eyes. "You know what I want and if you can't give me that then we can't be together!"

"Y/N I can't do this without you-"

"Do what, Draco?" You wiped the stray tears that fell out.

"Live, I don't know how to live without you. Eating is a chore, sleeping knowing you're not in my arms is unbearable, in fact, I haven't slept since we broke up." You could see his eyes line with water. You willed yourself to not give in. You deserved a person who isn't afraid to love you in the open.

"I haven't either..." You allowed yourself to admit to him, then straightened yourself, your moment of weakness gone. "But it doesn't matter we can get past this and learn to live without each other."

"I can't, I won't."

"Then you know what you need to do," With that, you left.

~~~

The next day he approached your brother during lunch and asked to speak with him. You were nervous, this wasn't exactly how you thought the big reveal was going to go. But when Harry came back he didn't look angry but confused and suspicious.

"What was that about?" Hermione asked. You glanced back and forth between Draco over at the Slytherin table and Harry who was now, sitting back in his seat in front of you.

"He apologized for everything." Harry's brows furrowed.

"Shouldn't that be a good thing?" You questioned. Hermione shook her head 'no'

"He always has some other agenda." She wasn't entirely wrong. Maybe this was his way of trying, but he's mistaken if he thinks that just apologizing to Harry will have you running back. He would have to try harder, you would help him out a little bit by gaining Harry and the rest of the group's favor, as much as you could.

"Maybe he's trying to change."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed, "That's what he said, he told me that he wanted to change and do better and apologized for everything he's done since our first year. Malfoy even gave me the answers to the History of Magic exam next class."

"Where'd he get those?" Ron asked with a mouthful of food. Hermione rolled her eyes, "It doesn't matter cause he's not going to use them. Right, Harry?" He shrugged.

"I might, I'm not exactly passing that class 'mione." She gave him a disapproving look and snatched the piece of parchment from his hand. "I could've helped you study, besides how do you know this isn't some sort of joke?"

"Does it matter? Pass it over, I need to get an outstanding before McGonagall writes a letter to Mum about my notes. I am not doing well this year." Ron answered.

"How about this, you use the answers that he gave you and if you pass then he really is trying to get better and if you fail he's just being a prick, yeah?" You suggested, you were sure that this was his attempt (one of many, you hoped) to get you back with him. If it was, then he was playing smart. Getting on your brother's good side first was a good idea.

In the days that passed, You, Harry, and the others were waiting for the results Malfoy continued to do good deeds for your group which made everyone suspicious. Even sending you flowers during days where when the mail came in with love notes. It was nice but those were secret, just for you and him although everyone knew you were being courted nobody knew by who. And when Harry and Ron had gotten their results back from Professor Binns, they passed. Hermione wasn't too thrilled about being wrong, Ron wanted to celebrate at the next Hogsmeade trip which was tomorrow. You all decided that you'd get butterbeer at the three broomsticks and would talk over what to do with Malfoy now that he's no longer bullying them.

When everyone went to bed, you found yourself using your dad's invisibility cloak to sneak off to the room of requirements. You were surprised to find Draco laying on the couch that always appeared, with his eyes closed. He looked peaceful and beautiful, his platinum blond hair standing out in the darkness of the room. His perfectly sculpted face, and oh how you missed kissing him on his soft lips.

"Starings at a person while they're sleeping is a bit odd, don't you think?" He sat up, you were startled by his voice and jumped.

"You're not sleeping anymore." You sat on the empty spot next to him. "Thanks for the answers, by the way, they were thrilled."

"Stole them from a Ravenclaw, they didn't seem to have use for them." You snorted at his reply of course he would. "What'd you think about the flowers?"

"My room now looks like a florist's shop by they were beautiful, thank you."

"I have to start somewhere." He shrugged. You had a small smile on your face, these were the things that you missed, what you loved about him and yes it was the bare minimum of effort but it used to be a lot more when you were together. People don't see this side of him, how he could be improper and make jokes that aren't all snide remarks at people. He's kind and sweet and considerate of the people he cares about. Your smile turned into a frown when you remembered why you broke up in the first place. He was considerate and cared about you but not enough to be with you in public and not care about what others say.

"I fucked it up but I'm going to try Y/N, It'll be a new start for us, I promise." He slowly eased his hand into your own, as if questioning if it was alright. And for the moment, it was.

You didn't notice that you had fallen asleep on the couch with Draco when you woke up. His arm underneath supporting your head, one of your arms were tucked into you while the other was wrapped around his waist. You took note of the position you were in and scolded yourself mentally. This was definitely not keeping your distance. Gladly this was the only thing that happened last night. You sneakily removed yourself from to so you wouldn't wake him up, picking up the invisibility cloak that laid on the ground and ran back to the common room, praying absence wasn't noticed. It was about 10 o'clock in the morning, you could tell by the sun shining and the number of students who were buzzing about the halls.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron weren't in the common room when you entered through the portrait hole after a fellow Gryffindor.  You let out a sigh of relief when you made it to your dorm, uncovering yourself from the cloak. You quickly got dressed in normal clothes for the day. By the time you went down, the others were sitting around chatting.

"Finally!" Ron exclaimed, "Now can we go?"

"Yes, Ronald." Hermione dragged Ron away. "So dramatic, we were only out here for 10 minutes."

Your trek to the small town of Hogsmeade was uneventful. You went to a couple of stores before finally sitting down at a table by the stairs at the three broomsticks. Ron and Harry went to go get drinks leaving you and Hermione at the table alone.

"Where were you last night?" She blurted out. You choked on your spit, you didn't expect that.

"What do you mean?" You asked after your coughing fit. She gave you a look that said 'seriously.

"I woke up in the middle of the night you were gone, when I woke up to wake the boys you still weren't there, and then all of a sudden you come down from girl's dorm as if you were there the entire time." She folded her arms across her chest, one eyebrow arched in the way she always did when she made a point. "I guess the question isn't where you were but who were you with?"

You knew your shock was giving you away and you tried to compose yourself, luckily the boys returned with the drinks. You took one out of Ron's hand and took a sip.

"That was mine but whatever I guess." He sat down next to Hermione. "Alright so when are we gonna talk about the new Malfoy?"

"We were having a good day without having to bring him up, Ron." Harry groaned.

"Well, your days gonna get a whole lot worse because he just walked in." Ron nodded his head toward the entrance. You sunk into your seat putting a hand over your face in hopes that he wouldn't see you.

Just as fate would have it he saw your brother and friends and came over to your table. "Good afternoon Weasley, Granger, Potters."

You all replied with awkward greetings, they were all obviously confused as to why he would come up to you guys and not immediately throw insults.

"I was wondering if I could have a word with Y/N?" He asked politely. Your eyes narrowed 'Oh fuck no'. You felt all their eyes shift to you, Hermiones especially a glint in her eye telling you that she knew the answer to her own question.

Just as you were about to answer, Harry interjected with a no, "Whatever you need to talk to her about you could say it in front of us. Your eyes widened, 'Merlin this day truly couldn't get worse'.

"Very well then, Potter would you allow me to take your sister out on a date?" You almost spit out your drink and slightly coughed when you swallowed. You looked between Harry's angry face and Dracos amused one. You assumed Harry was too shocked to respond, your nerves were all over the place waiting for him to say something.

"No." He said simply. Draco clenched his jaw while yours dropped at your brother's bluntness, Ron looked shocked and burst out laughing and Hermione was just sitting there watching this scene unfold. No seemed to be the answer of the day.

You shook your head. "So what I don't get a say?"

"I mean-" Draco attempted to respond but Harry cut him off.

"That's why you've been so nice recently, this was all some sort of plot to get to my sister, use her to get to me?" Harry stood up so he was face to face with Draco. "Listen here Malfoy, you can mess with me, try to humiliate me, get me into all sorts of trouble but the minute you bring my sister into this-"

"Harry calm down." You saw his wand peeking out through the sleeve of his hoodie.

"I can assure you this isn't some plot to get to you, I've fancied your sister for quite some time now." His eyes flickered between you and your brother. "I decided it was time I acted on it."

"Is he the guy that's been sending you flowers?" You pursed your lips debating on whether to answer or not, it seems like Draco was feeling bold today so he confessed that he was.

"I thought you were dating Cedric?" Ron interrupted, Draco rolled his eyes and Hermione smacked him over the head. "Of course not idiot!"

You chuckled, "No he's just a good friend."

"The timing just doesn't make sense." Harry tried to reason, "Malfoys never showed interest before and he's an arsehole." He spoke as if he wasn't standing right in front of him.

"He's a lot sweeter than you think!" you defended him.

"How would you know?"

"Because we were dating before!" Draco lost his patience. He was going to ask you out in front of Harry in hopes he'd say yes and ease him into the idea of being in a relationship with him. But at this point, with what happened last night he couldn't restrain himself from you anymore.

Hermione gasped. It appeared the whole Three broomsticks was quiet at the outburst. "I'm tired of hiding it. And I lost her because. I wanted to keep our relationship hidden so I've been trying to win back her affections. I can't deal with this anymore, Y/N you know this, You know how much I love you and you're right. Our love can't be hidden, not one like ours, so pure and powerful. It was wrong of me to hold us back because I was scared. I'm not anymore, clearly, please," He knelt down on one knee, something you never ever thought he would do in front of all these people. The most vulnerable part of him coming out. "tell me you still love me and you will take me back."

"Of course, I will." You brought him back up, grabbing his face and kissing him. Cheers were heard all around you. This was all you wanted.

Tags: @thescarletknight2014​ - @with-my-soul-and-heart​ - @idkatee​

[dcforts]

[week 3: i can still recall our last summer]

1.6k, pre s12.

Dean said it was too hot. He’d said it fifty times already since they left the bunker this morning and they were not even halfway through the journey.

He huffed and puffed, saying how uncomfortable he was in his jeans and tshirt and how much he hated his sweaty skin sticking to the vinyl seat. Cas tried to look sympathetic.

“I can’t even look at you right now,” said Dean, his eyes on the road, little drops of sweat above his upper lip. “At least loose the trench coat. I feel like I’m wearing it, it’s making me physically sick,” he said overly dramatic.

Cas indulged him and slipped it off, took off his jacket as well and loosened his tie.

Then he unbottoned his cuffs and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. He did a pretty nice job of it, he thought. He'd had done it a couple of times before, but Dean always said it looked messy and usually rolled them down again to do them himself.

Cas didn't mind that too much; Dean's fingertips travelling up his arms felt different than anything else he'd have ever experienced and he kind of started anticipating it.

Dean must have felt really bad today though, because he didn’t do anything but throw a quick look at him. Despite not being affected by it, Cas could tell the weather was unusually hot and Dean was definitely not used to it. Still, he could do with a change of topic.

Dean seemed to cheer up a bit when they passed a sign saying they were nearing a gas station, but then spent the time it took to get there to complain some more and apologize to his girl for not thinking of getting her a drink sooner. Cas managed to avoid making a comment on Dean talking about his car like that.

The place was pretty much empty. There were only two pumps that looked pretty old and a little store behind them. Dean stopped the car at the pump closer to the road and wriggled in his seat to take out a few dollar bills from his jeans, “I’m gonna get gas, could you go ahead to pay and get me something to drink?”

Cas nodded, “Sure.”

So he stepped into the store where the A/C was blasting and some mellow music was playing in the background. He wandered towards the fridges that held the beverages and spent a while trying not to feel overwhelmed by the choices available.

He knew what kind of beer Dean preferred, but it was too early for that. He scanned the shelves and looked for something that seemed refreshing.

There was one kind of juice that promised to be a "Natural Fruit Drink" and was stored in little colourful pouches. It looked refreshing enough. He grabbed two lemonaded drinks and a big water bottle.

“Would you consider this being a refreshing beverage?”

The old lady at the cash register smiled at him as if he was being funny, “Sure. There’s only one*, right?” she said, winking. She looked like she was expecting a reaction from him, but Cas didn’t know what to say. First of all, he was paying for two pouches.

“Uh –"

“Nevermind, dear,” she huffed a laugh, “you were probably too young to remember.”

That was highly unlikely, Cas thought. Thankfully she was handing him his receipt already so he was able to get away from the conversation with a, "Have a good day, ma’am.”

When he got outside Dean was waiting for him leaned against the Impala. There was no one else still, so he wasn’t in a hurry to free the space and lose the shade of the canopy over his head.

He had his arms crossed and looked like he was thinking intensely. Probably a way to murder the Sun.

He looked up when Cas approached, “What you got for me?”, he said and when he saw what he was carrying, he had the funniest reaction.

He started laughing.

“What?”

“Capri Sun?” he laughed some more, genuinely delighted, “God,” he said, taking one of the pouches from Cas, “Wh-why did you get these?” he asked in a silly voice and didn’t even wait for Cas to reply. “I haven’t had one of these in like – forever.”

He turned the pouch in his hands and then his smile softened and disappeared. He cleared his throat and knitted his eyebrows.

“You don’t like it?” Cas asked, confused by the sudden change of expression. “I also got you water.”

“Uh – no,” said Dean, “No, nothing like that. It’s just –” he was still turning the thing in his hands and not making any move to start drinking it. “These remind me of my mum?” he said like it was a question. He looked up at him and let out a little laugh. “It’s – weird. I can’t really – I mean I was three. I know I can’t possibly remember, and maybe most of the things are like – a wish or a dream or something, but – You know when you get like, memories from tastes and stuff? Like in In Search of Lost Time.”

Cas didn’t really know.

It must have read on his face because Dean snorted, “Forget it,” and kept going, “It brings me back to when I was a kid and – I don’t know.” He looked at the pouch. “I think it was summer? Must have been summer. I don’t even – She’d like, take me to the park, I think. I don’t remember Sam being there, so it must have been the last summer where it was just me and her, you know, before she – ” he trailed off, his hand gently squeezing the pouch. “Yeah. Anyway, I don't even know if it's real. Could be a commercial or something." He clicked his tongue, then finally jammed the straw in the plastic and brought it to his lips.

Cas was still standing there, his hands full, watching him as he drank. There was more to the story and he didn't want to interrupt. Sure enough, Dean added, “Anyway, when she was gone and we got on the road, money got a bit tight. I remember crying and kicking ‘cause my dad wasn’t buying it for me. That I remember well. I remember I learned not to ask for it anymore. So I had kind of – forgotten about it.”

He fell silent. Dean's childhood had been unfair and tragic and if Cas could have had the power to do something to set it right he would have. Dean rarely talked about it so casually. He didn't seem sad like other times, but as he finished his drink, Cas still felt the need to tell him, "I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, I'm not upset," he was quick to reply, shrugging, "I mean, real or not, it makes me feel good." He flashed out a smile, "It's making me feel good right now," he said, raising his eyebrows playfully at him, "Guess it'll remind me of today now too. And at least I'm sure this is real."

“Is today really a good memory?" asked Cas, skeptical, "You complained all the way here. And I thought you said, 'I'd rather go back to Hell than live another day like this.'"

Dean snorted, “Yeah, well," he said, one corner of his mouth going up in half a smile, "the weather is not all there is."

He looked away and walked a few steps to throw out the empty pouch. On his way back he headed straight towards Cas, and came to stand very close to him.

Cas blinked, “Do you want the other one?”

Dean smiled like he was being funny. “Nah, I’ll drink that later,” he said, but still took out of his hands both the water bottle and the juice and Cas didn’t understand what was going on when Dean sent them bouncing onto the backseat from the open window, barely taking his eyes off of him. Cas could not help but stare back.

“What-" he tried to ask, but Dean was already cupping his left elbow with one hand, soon joined by the other and unrolling the sleeve of his shirt. Oh.

Dean lowered his gaze as he worked and Cas took the chance to stare at him from such a short distance, focus on his eyelashes, his sweaty brow, the dark freckles on his skin. He was really close, closer than Cas thought he'd like to be in this heat. Cas' arm dangled by his side like a dead weight when he released it and his right arm was already halfway up in offering. Seeing that made Dean smile a little.

They were really close.

They were really close and Cas kind of wanted to step closer.

“You are so bad at this,” Dean huffed, his fingertips and knuckles brushing his skin. Cas thought it hadn’t looked that bad, but Dean would surely know better than he. He'd almost finished rolling up the other one as well, and he was slowing down his movements.

Cas wished he had four other arms.

"So -" Dean said, taking his time to smooth the last of the wrinkles, "How about a deal? If I start complaining too much, you -", he pursed his lips like he was thinking it through, but he was just trying to be funny. Cas found him funny, "you can play some music, drown out my voice."

"Do I get to choose the tape?" Cas asked, feigning innocence.

Dean looked up to give him an unamused look that said he was taking it too far, but when their eyes met he realized Cas had been waiting for that and was actually holding back a grin.

So Dean puffed a sigh to smooth the smile that was threatening to curl his lips. It didn't really work so he had to look away to hide it.

"Fine," he said in the end, finally letting go of his arm. He gave him a pat on his shoulder as he walked past him. "I'll let you choose the tape." He pointed a finger at him from the other side of the car. "Just this one time."

Cas was fine with that.

*a reference to the 82' commercial you can see here - just a fun a coincidence that it's the same year Dean's referring to :)

@bend-me-shape-me said #deancassummerprompts21 and I said YES

[jungwoniics]

𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌 | 𝐒𝐉𝐘

↦ pairing: sim jaeyun / jake x reader ↦ genre: fluff ↦ w/c: 2434 ↦ warnings: - ↦ a/n: hi everyone!! i'm back again with a new jake fic!! i'm not really sure how this is, so do let me know your thoughts on it! have a great day everyone! <3

- Jake POV -

“Okay, I’ll end the class here since it seems that there’s going to be a thunderstorm and I want all of you to get home before it starts. So please make your way home safely,” Ms Kim says as the whole class immediately starts packing their things.

I get up, glancing at the empty seat in front of me. Why didn’t she come to school today?

- Y/N POV -

I was seated in the living room, staring into blank space. My parents were in the kitchen, arguing about who to tell me the news, thinking they couldn’t be heard just because I couldn’t see them.

It was obvious what the news is: they were getting divorced.

I knew they’ve been considering it for weeks now. How?

I saw the divorce papers on my dad’s desk.

And I’ve been trying everything to get them to scrap that idea. I made plans to have a picnic at the beach as a family but they couldn’t stop arguing the whole way there that we ended up turning back.

We had movie night but they could even ruin that by arguing how we could’ve been a happy family like that in the movie if they each did their job.

See what I'm dealing with?

I have no idea what to do anymore. And I don’t want them to divorce. I’m sure there has to be some way to fix this for good.

My parents eventually emerge from the kitchen and stand in front of me. They look at me then at each other, as if waiting for the other to start the conversation. “Tell her,” my mum says.

“Why don’t you tell her?” my dad retaliates.

“I’ve been telling her everything all these years.”

“Then there shouldn’t be a problem with you doing it again.”

Ugh, here we go again.

“What is the big deal with just telling her this once?” my mum says again to my dad.

My dad raises his voice, “Well, what’s wrong with you-”

“Stop! Just stop!” I shout, getting up from the couch. “I can’t take it anymore. Why do you have to keep fighting?! I’ve been trying everything, everything, to become the family we all wish we were. Everything!”

“You've made me wait all day just to tell me some news. I missed school for this!”

“Well, this is important enough for you to skip school, Y/N,” my mum says firmly.

I scoff, “Right. I know what you’re gonna tell me. I've seen the divorce papers. So why don’t we cut this short and go on with our individual lives because that’s clearly what both of you are doing.”

“Y/N, you better watch your tone. No matter what happens we’re still gonna be your parents.”

“Oh my god, that’s what you’re worried about? Does it not bother you that our family is falling apart? Does it not matter that you’re divorcing? Does it not?!” I shout at the both of them.

Before they could say anything else, I leave the apartment, taking note of the dark sky outside.

- Jake POV -

As I enter the apartment building, I see Y/N leaving, noticing how she wasn’t carrying an umbrella with her. Worried for her safety in the imminent thunderstorm, I turn around to chase her. I follow her down the street but I lose sight of her as a big crowd of people blocks me as I cross the street.

Seeing the even darker sky, I stop in my tracks, putting on the raincoat that I had brought and opening my umbrella. The park greets me when I look up again so I quickly make my way there as it starts pouring.

Seriously, where is she?

Turning the corner, I notice a small figure walking slowly along the path.

“Y/N!” I call out, relieved to have finally found her.

- Y/N POV -

I turn around when I hear my name, shocked to see Jake standing a distance away. “What are you doing in this thunderstorm?” he asks, making his way to me.

“Do you know how dangerous it is to be out right now?” he chides, looking into my eyes as if he could see right through my soul.

I was obviously drenched from head to toe. I mean, that was the whole point of me leaving the apartment without my raincoat. But my body suddenly shivers from the cold. I watch silently as Jake takes off his raincoat and drapes it over my shoulders.

“Thanks,” I whisper, not sure if he was annoyed at me.

“Let's just get out of this storm,” he grabs hold of my wrist, bringing me to the closest shelter we could find.

✦❘༻{ 𝐄𝐍– }༺❘✦

“So why were you out there?” Jake asks me again, taking a seat next to me.

I just shrug, not really wanting to tell him about my parents. It was embarrassing enough that he caught me walking in the storm when I knew how dangerous it could be. I didn’t need another reason to be embarrassed.

“You can tell me, Y/N. I'm not gonna judge,” he says again when I don’t respond. “I mean, you didn’t come to school today. It has to be something serious.”

I look up at him, and I see this look in his eyes. Like he meant every word that he said. Like whatever I was going to tell him wouldn’t affect how he feels about me. I didn’t want to tell him, but I did anyway.

- Jake POV -

I could see that Y/N didn’t want to tell me, but she had to. She has to let it out to someone. Who knows what else might happen if she doesn’t. She did just take a walk in the park in this thunderstorm.

When she finally looks up at me, I see the look in her eyes. She didn’t want to tell me. But she was going to.

So I prepared myself to listen.

✦❘༻{ 𝐄𝐍– }༺❘✦

“I'm so sorry, Y/N. I wish I could help you solve this. I really do. But maybe just give them some time to think things through. Maybe some time away from each other would give them the chance to reflect.”

“But they’re getting divorced. Once they sign the papers, it’s done. We’re not a family anymore,” Y/N says, sighing.

“That's not true. Your parents will always have you as the reason to come back. And even if they do divorce, it’s not your fault. So stop blaming yourself,” I had a feeling whatever I was saying didn’t help, but I was trying my best.

What?

I don’t have experience in this area.

“Oh, the rain’s stopped,” Y/N suddenly says. Sure enough, when I look up, the sky was clearing. I grab my things, getting ready to go to the apartment.

“You coming?” I turn back to see Y/N still seated.

She hesitates, not making eye contact again.

“C’mon I’ll walk you back.”

✦❘༻{ 𝐄𝐍– }༺❘✦

As the lift door opens, I gesture to Y/N, who slowly steps out.

“Hey, uh, if anything happens when I get back, is it okay if I come over to your place?”

I nod, “Of course.”

She gives me a weak smile before unlocking her apartment door. “Good luck,” I say before she disappears into her apartment.

- Y/N POV -

My parents were seated on the couch when I entered. It must’ve been the first time I saw them seated without arguing about anything. It looked peaceful. But it didn’t last long.

The both of them turn their heads swiftly to face me.

“Y/N! How could you just walk out like that?!” my mum exclaims. “You knew there was going to be a thunderstorm. What is wrong with you?”

“Why are you scolding her when she just got back? At least ask her if she’s okay,” my dad tells her.

I just fold my arms, “I just got back and you’re fighting again? Do I mean nothing to you? You’re both just absorbed in your own lives. Does it not matter what I want?”

“We’ve done everything for you, Y/N. What’re you talking about?” my dad says.

“You’re divorcing! Is that doing things for me?”

“It's what’s best for all of us, Y/N!” my mum suddenly shouts, catching both me and my dad off guard.

On the verge of crying, I end the conversation, “Best for us… or best for you?”

✦❘༻{ 𝐄𝐍– }༺❘✦

- Jake POV -

Ding.

“I’ll get it.”

I open the door to see a tearful Y/N. I immediately step aside as she steps in. “So you wanna talk about it?”

She shakes her head so I leave her be.

When I was sure she was comfortable, I head back into the kitchen to help my mum. “Who was it?” she asks, taking out the nuggets from the airfryer.

“Y/N”

“Oh, the girl that didn’t come to school today?”

“Yeah”

“Hey, what’s y/n doing here?” my hyung suddenly appears in the kitchen. Just that moment, my dad walks into the kitchen too.

I huddle my family together as I whisper, “Okay listen. She told me her parents are divorcing so she’s having a hard time right now. So, can we just be nice to her while she’s here? Also don’t bring up the divorce… I'm not sure she wants other people knowing about it.”

“Oh, of course”

My mum immediately continues cooking dinner while my dad and hyung make their way to where Y/N was seated. “Heyyy Y/N, it’s good to see you again. It’s been quite a while since the last time I babysat you and Jake,” my hyung says, taking a seat next to her.

Oh my god. Really? That’s how he’s starting the conversation?

Oh, I’m sorry. Let me catch you on.

My family and Y/N’s used to be close. We’ve been living close to one another for years now. Actually, it was merely a coincidence when my family moved in here last year. But anyways, until two years ago, Y/N, my hyung and I always hung out together when our parents were out working.

Since my hyung is two years older, he was responsible for looking after us. Which he decided to call babysitting even though he was as much a kid as we were.

Anyway, two years ago, Y/N’s family moved away and we lost contact with one another. And here we are now.

Y/N shoots my hyung a puzzled look. “You didn’t babysit me. I’m only two years younger than you.”

“Hey, don’t ruin my childhood memories.”

Expecting Y/N to roll her eyes, she smiles instead. “Fine, you’ve always called it babysitting anyway.”

“Anyway… Y/N, are you hungry?” my dad cuts in.

✦❘༻{ 𝐄𝐍– }༺❘✦

- Y/N POV -

I honestly really missed Jake’s family. They are a really nice family. Close and… happy. They made me feel welcome even after our family’s haven’t hung out in two years. It brought tears to my eyes, thinking how being with another family gave me more joy than being with my own.

As much as I wanted my parents and I to be one happy family like Jake’s, it wasn’t going to happen. And maybe it wouldn’t be too bad with them divorced. I mean, I’ll always have Jake and his family. And my mum and dad will always love me even if they have fallen out of love with each other.

It’s funny how having a good time can make you so positive.

I think I was finally ready to head back home.

✦❘༻{ 𝐄𝐍– }༺❘✦

“Thank you so much for allowing me to stay here for the past few hours,” I thank them profusely, getting ready to head out.

“Of course, Y/N. Any time you need a place to go to that’s not home, You’re always welcome here,” Jake’s mum says with a wide smile.

I smile softly, bidding them goodbye as I head to the door.

“Y/N”

“Yeah?” I turn back around.

“I anything happens, you can always drop by,” jaJke tells me.

I nod, “Thanks, but I think I’ll be fine.”

✦❘༻{ 𝐄𝐍– }༺❘✦

[ one year later ]

“Y/N, ready to go?” my dad asks, picking up the food my mum had packed for us to bring back.

So, they did divorce. But things have never been better. They still loved each other, they just do it better when they don’t live together. How do I know? None of them even considered searching for another life partner… so I just made my conclusion from there.

We all hung out as a family once a week on Sundays. Why? Because it was the day for me to go over to the other parent’s house for the week. Sundays were the best days now… although we merely spent the day watching movies together, it was good to be able to sit in a room together again without a fight occurring.

Oh, and we also began hanging out with Jake’s family more often. They’ve been really, really supportive during the past year when my parents made the decision to divorce. And now, we’ve all settled with our lives and they’re going great.

“Yeah, I’ll see you soon, mum,” I give her a tight hug before walking out the door.

Just as we were about to leave, Jake walks out his apartment door. “Oh hey, Y/N. And Y/N’s dad,” he bows his head.

“Oh Jake, it’s good to see you. I’ll give you guys some time,” my dad says, patting Jake’s shoulder.

Once my dad walks off, I turn back to Jake. “So… how’s everything?”

“It’s good. Who knew divorce wasn’t such a bad thing,” I shrug with a smile.

“Oh my god, you don’t get two Christmas presents, do you?” Jake suddenly asks, his eyes wide in anticipation.

I let out a soft laugh, “No. We’re still a family. We just don’t live together. It’s fun.”

Jake just nods. We remain silent for a couple moments. I have no idea why there suddenly was some tension between us. I was avoiding eye contact, but I could feel his gaze on me.

I clear my throat, breaking the silence. “Anyway, uh, I should probably get going.”

“Oh, right. I’ll see you around.”

“Bye”

✦❘༻{ 𝐄𝐍𝐃 }༺❘✦

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ғᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ

© jungwoniics. all rights reserved. please don’t repost, plagiarise and translate. likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[theresthesnitch]

A Letter from Home

Coming in late on day 2 for this prompt, but I'm happy with how this came out. Another entry for @harryandginuary BINGO event.

O 63: “I’m having the worst day and you've just handed me an envelope with…”

Read it here on AO3!

Rated: Mature

***

The rain is incessant. 

Everything is saturated with it. Weeks and weeks of staking out this post in the neverending rain, hoping that the dark wizards responsible for a string of muggle disappearances would finally, finally make a move and reveal themselves. The intelligence was good. They were sure. This was the right location. All that was left was to wait. 

And wait.

And wait. 

And wait. 

And Harry was so tired of waiting in this fucking rain, and on today of all fucking days, that he was legitimately considering if being an Auror was really worth it. He couldn't just walk away without consequences. He may have saved the wizarding world from the worst dark wizard in a generation (which, the rational part of him that wasn't quite soaked through with rain reminded him was not a card he would ever play), he still didn't have the standing to just walk away from an unfavorable post. He was a junior Auror. He was only just out of his training and had only just achieved Auror status. So he was stuck with no choice but to wait. 

And wait. 

And wait. 

And wait. 

And what's worse is they just received word from Robards that they would have to keep waiting because the intelligence still suggested this was the place they needed to be and the targets were close and they just had to wait and I swear to Merlin I cannot wait in this fucking rain anymore. 

"Auror Potter!" 

Despite the fact that Harry was younger and had less training, Junior Auror Jeffrey Wilson insisted on referring to Harry in a tone and with an honorific that placed Harry at a higher level of seniority. In fact, several of the Junior Aurors referred to him this way. Harry gritted his teeth at the continued use of the title. 

"It's just Harry." 

"Right, sir. Sorry, sir." 

"No, Jeff. Not sir. Just Harry." 

"Oh. Uh, right, si- Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Did you need something, Jeff?" 

"Oh! Yes, sir." Harry bit back the angry retort at the use of sir again, and took the item Jeff was holding out to him. "A letter came for you." 

"A letter?" Harry looked dubiously at the envelope in his hands. "I thought they were blocking our post." 

"I don't know, sir. It came with our weekly rations from the Ministry, not by owl. Seems to be for you, though." 

Harry looked down at the letter in his hands, and his heart warmed at the familiar script that curled and twisted into his name. “Jeff, you are officially my favorite person here.” 

“Oh, thank you, sir! That’s wonderful!” Harry stifled a groan at the man’s overreaction to his offhand comment. “Uh, sir? What did I do?”

“It’s just Harry, Jeff. Not sir.” Why did he bother correcting him when it seemed like he would never learn. “It’s just that it’s my birthday-”

“Oh, happy birthday, sir!”

“-and we are stuck out here in the rain on this awful stakeout. I’m having the worst day, and you've just handed me an envelope with a letter from the love of my life. It’s just about the best present you could have given me.” 

“Oh, well you’re welcome, sir.” Harry shot him a glare that caused him to stagger a step under its weight. “Uh, Harry. You’re welcome Harry.” He scurried away swiftly after that. 

Harry flipped the letter over and broke the seal. He was immediately surrounded with the comforting scent of warm treacle tart, the earthy scent of a broomstick handle, and the flowery scent that had him momentarily transported back home to his bed and wrapped in Ginny’s arms again. He didn’t know how she managed to package everything he loved into this little paper box, but he was nearly overcome with longing, desire, and gratitude before even opening the letter inside. 

He removed the letter from the envelope, fingers trembling slightly. He unfolded it, and began to read: 

My love, 

I miss you so much that I don’t even know where to start. Remember to thank Robards for allowing me to include it in the supplies. I may or may not have yelled at him that the man who saved the whole wizarding world, including Robard’s own useless ass, deserved to receive at least a letter on his birthday. I’m not even a little sorry for doing it either. 

Mum wants to have a party for you as soon as you’re back, so she’s requiring everyone to keep Saturday evenings free until you get back. That resulted in a (not so) small amount of muttering about wasted weekends, but you know mum who shut them all up quickly. I only hope that she does not preemptively prepare a feast every Saturday just in case you turn up at the last minute. I don’t know if I have the heart to tell her that if you do show up without warning on a Saturday that we will not be making an appearance at a party that same night. Honestly, she may have birthed seven kids, but I am not prepared to discuss sex plans with my mother. 

Hermione helped me charm this letter so that it smells like Amortentia to whoever holds it. I hope you like it, and I hope it reminds you of that weekend we spent at Grimmauld Place during Christmas of my seventh year. If it didn’t, I hope that’s what you’re thinking of now.

Did I ever tell you my Amortentia smelled like? I don’t think I got a chance, since that was during my sixth year and you were away. I smell yeast dough and cinnamon, like the cinnamon buns that mum makes on Christmas morning. I smell the crisp, clean scent of new clothes and new shoes. And finally, I smell you, which is vaguely spicy and and dark, with earthy tones to it, like your Auror robes smell like when you return from long trips. I can still remember walking into Slughorn’s classroom and nearly being thrown backwards by the smell of it. It smelled of you so strongly that I searched for you in that room before I realized that it was a potion and not the real thing.

Writing this letter to you is bringing up all kinds of memories of my seventh year, while I was at Hogwarts and you were always just an owl away. I know it was only a few years ago, but I feel like we were such different people then. In that first year after the war, we were so broken down and struggling to come to terms with the post-war world. I’m proud of us for figuring out together how to navigate this new world. After the summer we spent barely apart, I thought we could never deal with just letters and a few Hogsmede trips, but it was leagues better than the year prior. 

I cannot wait for you to be home again. I’ve thought extensively on what that first day would be like when you finally return. I would feed you first, of course, because I know that you always come home from missions hungry. Something light, I think. Sandwiches, maybe, full of crisp green lettuce and juicy tomatoes. Then, I would take you upstairs, peel all of your clothes off and draw us a warm bath.

Do you remember the bath we took together after the Quidditch game against the Tornados my first year on the Harpies? We lost so miserably, and I was so worn down from the match. You took me in the bath, filled with rose oil and petals, and rubbed down all of my sore and tired muscles until I was putty in your lap. Then you made love to me slowly while the water cooled around us, and I swear that I have never orgasmed as hard as I did that night. I’ve been revisiting that memory a lot these last few weeks while you’ve been away, particularly when I’m alone in that great big bathtub, and my hand slips underneath the water and between my legs… 

Did I mention I miss you? Because I do. Touching myself never feels as good as when you touch me. 

I hope you come home again soon. I've been keeping busy with my training schedule during the day, but my nights are empty without you. I've been spending some nights with mum and dad or Ron and Hermione because I hate being here when you are so far away. 

I miss you, and I'll be here planning for the night you come home until I see you again. 

Yours eternally, 

Ginny

Harry reread the letter twice more, then held the paper to his chest and breathed in deeply the scents of Ginny and home. The letter was wonderful, but it also left him feeling empty. Reading her words wasn't half as good as having her in his arms. 

Harry looked up and caught movement at the house they've been watching for weeks. He waited another minute and, sure enough, it's what they've been carefully waiting and watching and hoping to find. 

Wait for me, Gin, he thought as he foldrd the letter and sounded the silent alarm. I'll be home tonight.

[theclockworkmonk]

Out of the Mouths of Babes — Chapter 4

Read on AO3

Read on FFNet

Chapter 1 on Tumblr

Chapter 2 on Tumblr

Chapter 3 on Tumblr

Written for Hinny Ficfest 2021

Prompt: “Uncle Ron said something about Harry knocking Ginny up, but I don’t know what he means,” Teddy said.

*******

Ginny had disappeared, dragged through the kitchen door, before Harry could come up with an excuse to keep her by his side. He sighed and took a long gulp from his glass of firewhiskey, welcoming the burning sensation down his throat. Whatever his family was so wound up about, Harry knew he wasn't in danger here, so he hoped the drink would dull his overactive auror instincts so he could enjoy the evening.

"So...how's the shop?" asked Harry, choosing to focus on George, "any accidental new body parts I can't see?"

"Harry, I'll have you know that we ascribe to only the highest of safety standards at Weasley Wizard Wheezes," said George with his nose in the air, "We strictly adhere to a dual-fault system to make sure a trained wizard is on-site to intervene in case of emergency."

"By that he means that he doesn't try any weird shit on himself without me there to rush him to St. Mungo's," said Ron with his mouth full, wincing as his mother smacked him in the back of the head with a wooden spoon for his language.

Harry's eyes narrowed at his best friend. "So you two are already partners now? Really wasting no time on bailing on me, aren't you?"

"Don't be a prat!" grumbled Ron. "No, like I said, it was just a thought that I had. You know, the kind of thought you would hope you could share with your best mate without him jumping down your throat?"

"Well I think it's a marvelous idea," Mrs. Weasley announced loudly from her place at the stove."

George's eyebrows shot up. "Who are you and what have you done with my mother? You're glad that another one of your sons is considering wasting his life at this silly business, instead of a respectable job at the Ministry?"

"Well, if said Ministry job involves chasing after Death Eaters every day," huffed Mrs. Weasley, "Then I suppose my nerves will take any alternative."

She sent a stern look towards Harry and pointed a threatening spoon at him, making him jump back. "You could do well to learn from Ron in that regard, Harry."

Ron was grinning ear to ear, bouncing in his seat from being the favorite child of the moment.

"There's nothing wrong with Ron doing the responsible thing." she lowered her voice to a grumble so Harry barely heard, "at least someone is."

Harry surveyed the tense atmosphere in the room again.

"Okay, what's got everyone in such a mood?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"No one's in a mood!" said Mrs. Weasley quickly.

"Harry," Mr. Weasley spoke up for the first time, and his voice too was less assuring than Harry usually found it. "I'm having trouble with a fascinating new muggle device I've discovered, would you mind giving me a hand out in the shed?"

"Oh. Sure," said Harry easily. Mr. Weasley got up from the table and led Harry outside. They entered the man's infamous tool shed, and Harry noticed new mechanical and electronic devices in various states of disassembly. Mr. Weasley gestured to his work table, where a VCR sat.

"I've heard that muggles use this to see recorded images, like a pensieve, but I've put in those black blocks, and nothing happens."

"Oh, well," said Harry, trying not to laugh, "You need to attach it to a television. It can't just work on its—"

He was interrupted by the door opening again, and Harry was surprised to see Mrs. Weasley entering the shed which he always knew her to avoid, wanting nothing to do with her husband's "nonsense" tinkering.

"Molly, what are you doing here?" Mr. Weasley asked crossly, "We agreed we wouldn't. The boys—"

"I told them I was getting apples from the orchard," his wife said dismissively. She crossed the shed and looked beseechingly at a very surprised Harry.

"Harry, dear, you know how we think of you as a part of this family. We've been wanting to say….we hope that you don't think that has changed because of you and Ginny's relationship. We know young men have trepidation about 'the girlfriend's parents,' but you're not just our daughter's boyfriend to us, you're one of our own."

Harry was as touched as he was confused. "Th-Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," he said softly. "I can't tell you how much that means to me."

"And one reason we had no objection to you and Ginny dating," Mr. Weasley continued, "is that we trust you to always do right by Ginny. To always do what's best for her."

Harry looked back and forth between them, their expressions pointed and expecting.

"Well — ehem — I'll remember that. I promise to never do anything to hurt her." He meant it.

There was another moment of silence before Mrs. Weasley spoke up again.

"Sooooo…." she prompted. "We just want you to be aware that….should you decide to propose…you wouldn't have to worry—"

"What!?" Harry's heart leapt into his throat and he knew his face had turned scarlet. "Oh, no no," he said, putting his hands up. "I'm glad to have your blessing, but we're not ready to think about that yet."

Harry rubbed his neck nervously. It was only a half-lie. In truth, Harry was ready to think about that. He thought about proposing to Ginny damn near every day, in fact. But he was fairly certain that Ginny was still years away from being ready. She was fiercely proud of her independence and she was still dealing with the papers referring to her as "Harry Potter's girlfriend" before "star Harpies Chaser," even without marriage.

Mr. Weasley sighed in what seemed like disappointment and Mrs. Weasley's mouth thinned and her expression turned sour.

"Well...the roast should be done, we should all head back inside."

The Weasleys led the way out of the shed and Harry cautiously followed them. When they arrived back in the kitchen, Harry saw Bill shoot his father a stern, questioning look, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Mr. Weasley shake his head grimly, and Bill and Charlie gave Harry a glare that would make Mad-Eye Moody quake in his boots.

Harry froze and all the breath left his body. It suddenly all made sense. He was the thing that the Weasleys were so on edge about. Ginny's parents inquiring about him marrying her.

They had somehow found out that he and Ginny were living together.

Harry suddenly felt like a sheep in a cage with several wolves.

"Hey mum," said Charlie, "while you were outside, Aunt Muriel floo-called and said that the gnomes are in her attic again. Apparently she's upset at the way dad tried to take care of it last time."

"Is she sure it's actually the gnomes, or is it the doxies nesting in her hair?" Mr. Weasley grumbled as his wife shooed him into their sitting room and through their fireplace. Harry's heart was thudding in his chest as the few Weasleys he could count on to not murder him due to this secret getting out abandoned him with the curse breaker, dragon tamer, master prankster, and Ministry power-broker.

Several murderous eyes turned towards Harry.

"Look...er…" Harry stammered. "I really thought that, after everything, we had all moved past the whole 'overprotective big brothers' routine."

"Yeah, we thought we had too," said Charlie darkly, "but mum and dad's diplomatic approach clearly didn't work, so the gloves are off. I guess we never figured that the savior of the bloody wizarding world would do this to our sister."

George snorted, still finding this whole thing quite amusing. "Sorry, do this to her? Harry's the real victim here. Ginny's a nightmare already, can you imagine what living with her will be like now?"

"What the hell are you lot talking about?" Ron cut in, looking around the room in confusion.

"I think your brothers have become aware of me and Ginny's...status change," said Harry.

"Oh, that is just so typical!" huffed Hermione, crossing her arms and adopting her lecturing pose. "Ginny is perfectly capable of handling her own life and she doesn't need a bunch of chest-beating men to defend an outdated notion of her 'honour!' I still can't believe how sexist magical society can be sometimes."

"Yes, Hermione, our world is sexist, whether we like it or not" said Bill, not backing down. "You can pontificate all you want about how it's not right, or a double standard, but once the public finds out about this — and sooner or later, they will," he shot another glare at Harry, as if he wrote to the papers about it himself, "then it will change how people see her. And since she's a Quidditch star, the way people see her matters."

"Yup, can see the headlines now," George sighed dramatically, "the ambitious social climber Ginevra Weasley, raised in a pauper's home, so she used her feminine wiles to land herself this sweet gig."

"Look, ultimately, it's none of our business — no, I'm serious!" Ron finished in response to his brothers' looks of betrayal. "Look, Bill, Charlie, you two were only around when Ginny was a little girl. You didn't go to school with her. You never saw first-hand what happens when you try to meddle in her life to defend her virtue, trust me." He shivered a bit, as he remembered the traumatic memory.

"I don't even understand why we have to meddle," said Percy, "I just don't understand your logic, Harry. There's no question you would be willing to throw yourself into mortal danger all over again to protect Ginny. What you're hesitating to do is comparatively easy."

"His reasons don't matter, he should have thought of that earlier," said Charlie, pointing a threatening finger at Harry. "I don't care if this makes me a hypocrite, but you're going to do the right thing and—"

Ginny suddenly burst into the room, causing every word to fall silent. Harry knew that Ginny always hated it when people were obviously talking about her, but as he started towards her, he was surprised when he saw that her eyes were watery with tears. Ignoring all of the eyes on her, she ran straight towards Hermione, throwing her arms around her friend.

"Erm, is something wrong?" asked Hermione. She threw a questioning look to Fleur as she followed Ginny into the kitchen, but the young mother looked just as confused as anyone as she took Victoire back from Bill.

Instead of answering Hermione's question, Ginny withdrew from the hug and smacked Ron upside the head.

"Ah! What the shit!" Ron cried, rubbing the back of his head.

"Ronald, language!" scolded Mrs. Weasley, re-entering the kitchen along with her husband, making the room quite crowded.

"That's your main concern?" asked Ron, "Not the unwarranted physical assault?"

"It's not unwarranted, it's for being a stupid, forgetful git!" barked Ginny

She walked up to Harry and took his glass of firewhiskey, still mostly intact.

"I need this more than you," she informed him, and began to raise the glass to her lips.

"GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY!"

Mrs. Weasley's ear-piercing shriek caused everyone in the room to wince, and Ginny momentarily jumped behind Harry for protection. "Merlin's balls, WHAT!?"

"Molly…" Mr. Weasley cautioned.

"DO NOT 'MOLLY' ME, ARTHUR!" his wife shouted back. She had a crazed look in her eye and she was pulling at her hair. She rounded on Harry and Ginny.

"We have tried to be respectful, but you two are clearly not ready for this kind of responsibility! I am so disappointed in you both for not taking this more seriously! You haven't even given a thought to how this will affect your careers!"

"Our careers?" asked Harry, confused. "How would that possibly—"

Suddenly, everything clicked into place. He had gotten it completely wrong about what the Weasleys were talking about. The talk about responsibility, their careers, affects to Ginny's public image.

Somehow, the family had gotten word about the "honour" bestowed upon Harry by the Wizengamot, and all the implications that had for his and Ginny's future together. He supposed it wasn't too surprising that Arthur or Percy had heard about it through their Ministry connections.

He looked sideways at Ginny, and from one look he knew that she had come to the same realization. Both their faces split into wide grins as relief flooded through them that all of this drama was over something so silly. Apparently, the family somehow had the absurd idea that Harry would keep the title and actually take the status, power, and responsibilities being offered to him.

Harry and Ginny cracked up into delirious laughter, leaning on each other for support, which did nothing to help the livid look on Mrs. Weasley's face.

"Oh Merlin's beard, is that what has you all concerned? Don't worry about that," laughed Harry, waving one hand dismissively and wrapping the other around Ginny's shoulder.

"I mean, come on, we're obviously not keeping it!"

There was a moment of silence, then the entire kitchen exploded.

[whitexwingedxdoves]

you want me         [request]

Pairing: Negan x Younger Reader Pronouns: She/Her Warnings: Language Era: Pre- Apocalypse Summary: Falling for your dad’s friend, you do everything in your power to make him yours, only problem being you’re far to young for him.... for now! A/N: thank you @jinxeee​ for trusting me with this request and for being my MUSE <3 I hope you love it just as much as I loved writing it <3 ITS IN TWO PARTS BECAUSE I GOT FAR TOO ENGROSSED WITH THIS! 

You hated your parents stupid parties they insisted on throwing almost every month, you’d watch as your mother would scramble around the house like headless chickens making sure everything was perfect. Your father would keep himself busy with trips to the store to get whatever food or drinks were on his list. There was only one thing that made the night worth making small talk with your parents, co-workers and friends, Negan, oh god even his name sent your stomach into a whirl. Negan had been friends with your dad for a while now and became a regular face at your home, it was almost love at first sight for you, the way he held himself with so much confidence and talked to you like an adult. You’d find yourself thinking about him during class, when you’re out with your friends... hell you’d even dream about him.

Your parents didn’t realise that you’d actually put effort into your appearance now, they probably just thought it was some teenage hormone thing. You stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching your mum run over the wooden flooring with the vacuum for the 5th time today. Your thumbs pulled at the hem of your skirt, hoping your parents wouldn’t notice how high it rested on your thighs. They weren't, of course, far too occupied with the lay out of party food on the counter of the kitchen. Your mum however did comment on how nice your hair looked curled and how you should do it more often. You listened to the same lecture they gave you every time someone was coming over, how to behave and all that patronising crap.

As people came spilling in, you knew not to get your hopes up just yet, Negan was always the last one to swagger through the door so you just sat on the sofa, twirling one of your curls between your fingers. Without warning, a large hand grabbed a hold of your shoulder, your eyes immediately finding who the hand belonged to. The butterflies in your stomach became more and more aware of the gaze that sat on you. “Hey kid! Shouldn’t you be asleep... isn’t it a school night” your eyes rolled at his teasing words but on the inside you became instantly weak at the tone of his voice.

“I'm not a kid!” you retorted pulling yourself up from the sofa. You followed the man into the kitchen presumably looking for your dad. You managed to get ahead of him, your walk changing almost instantly attempting your best sexy walk but to any onlooker it was just plain awkward. You peered around at him, catching his confused gaze which only made your teen heart throb much more aggressively. “What? You don’t like my outfit?” the teasing tone of your voice made the older man shudder a little as he reached the counter, placing down a bottle of gin he brought along with him. You leaned against the counter directly opposite him, your fingers finding your curls again, your lip taking the brunt of your teeth as you naturally eyed up the tall man.

Negan kept his eye on you, watching your actions with caution as he unscrewed the lid from the bottle. Once his mind had come to a conclusion as to what you were playing at, his muscles relaxed and he allowed a chuckle pass his lips.” What are you doing kid?” His question made you stand up straight almost immediately, catching you completely off guard. “You wanna be some sort of jail bait for one of these losers?” his words felt like daggers going straight through your heart.

“No!” you snapped at the man, pulling at your tight shirt attempting to become a little more modest. He gave you an unsure nod before he met you on your side of the counter island.

“Look, i'm a flattered kid but erm – you not exactly my type” you couldn’t bear to look up at him, the embarrassment was far too much for you to deal with right now “You’re just a kid, far too young for me!” Though he was teasing, he couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty. He remembered how strongly girls loved at that age and he couldn’t bear the thought of having to break your heart like this but it had to be done.

You didn’t speak a word to anyone else that night, you took yourself to your room and cried yourself to sleep, well that was the plan anyway but you couldn’t. The rage wouldn't allow it. If he wanted a mature girl, you’d give it to him. You spent most of the night throwing things out of your closet that seemed too adolescent for ‘grown ups’ and watching videos on how to do your makeup to make you look more mature. You had approximately two weeks to get your act together until you saw him again at your dad’s big birthday barbeque.

-

You spent the last two weeks changing almost everything about yourself, all for this day. You sat in your garden watching over the brim of one of the books you stole from your mum, Women are from Venus Men are from Mars. You had no idea what it was about nor did you care to find out, it was all part of your plan to prove to Negan you were in fact a woman. Everyone was in their own little circles talking over cold beers and almost burnt hot dogs, your gaze looking through each and everyone of them before settling at the large gate that allowed access to your garden. You saw it move ever so slightly, causing your heart to stop for a moment... There he was, looking as irresistible as ever, time seemed to slow down as he made his way in allowing you to take in every inch of him. Time came rushing back as soon as you saw his perfectly sculpted hand pulling something in with him. A girl.

Your book dropped from your face, allowing the fluster of red that gathered in your cheeks to show. Who the hell was she!? Why is she here and why the hell is she hanging off his arm like some cheap bracelet. Despite wanting to, you just couldn’t look away as she flaunted her win over you, your breathing became uneven without you even noticing. Negan looked for you in the crowd of people and once he saw you, all flustered and angry he shot you an innocent smile accompanied with a wave to be sure he got your attention. He made you watch as he pulled the women he had dragged in, into a hug. What the fuck was he playing at.

You couldn’t move from your spot, you thought everyone was pointing and laughing at you for even thinking your plan would work. It could have but you never got the chance to try it, not now that miss big tit’s, blonde hair was here. Granted no one was actually even looking your way at all and it wasn’t like you had a ‘I heart Negan’ shirt on but still the situation was far too embarrassing for you to even try to socialise right now. You buried your head in your hands, attempting to cover up your crimson cheeks.

“Y/N, Come here!” The ringing of your dad’s words caused you to groan before you reluctantly pushed yourself away from the deck chair and dragged yourself to his side.

“Y/N, This is Jennifer... Negan’s girlfriend.” Finally you had a name for the bitch, you plastered the best fake smile you could possibly muster at this moment and held out your hand for her to shake, she did of course.

“So nice to meet you, Tiffany!” you smiled, your hand gripping hers a little tighter than you initially planned.

“it’s Jennifer” she finally pulled away making you feel like you already had the upper hand

“Whatever” at the sound of your cheery tone you felt your dad’s arm nudge you slightly, your eyes rolling underneath your sunglasses.

The night was going fine, all things considered. Negan continued to wrap his arms around Jennifer whenever you even looked in his direction but you decided to go the grown up route about it and simply avoid him. The sun had set and the air was getting pretty cool, a few of your fathers friends had already left. Laying back in the swing chair that occupied the back porch, you let your thoughts occupy your mind. Why was he even doing this? Did he really think that getting a girlfriend would prove some sort of point? Like getting Jennifer would prove some sort of point? Your thoughts couldn’t get away with you too much because at that point you were brought back to your dull reality at the sound of someone clearing their throat. Your eyes circled the area before they settled on the exact man you were just thinking about. He stood tall over you, a sinister smirk occupying his face. You snapped up as soon as your thoughts caught up with you, sitting straight now on the chair though at the velocity of your movements, it made it swing slightly.

“What’s wrong, where’s Tiffany?” your question only caused his smirk to grow as you allowed your head to hang slightly.

“Jennifer and she’s waiting at the door for me. We’re heading home” his voice was so deep it sent vibrations through your body. Allowing your gaze to finally meet with him. “Just saying bye!” a small laugh left his lips before you stood up.

“Bye” you answered simply before pushing past the man.

“What, not gonna say bye to Jen?” you stopped dead in your tracks, your face starting to flush again and your hands slightly shaking, taking a moment to process your actions. Finally you turned to him, mimicking his smirk.

“Oh so you did all this to make me jealous?” you teased, stepping a little closer to him. The power you felt as you watched his expression go blank. “You really didn’t have to go through all this trouble, Negan... really!” Finally standing so close to him, you could feel his body heat against your cheeks. Standing up on your tiptoes, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug allowing your lips to rest against his ear. “You can have me whenever you want” you whispered as seductively as you possibly could, ignoring the swirling of butterflies that swam around your stomach. You couldn’t soak up the feeling of his body against yours for long as he pushed you away as gently as he could. His hands landed on your hips, as he came to your level.

“Never gonna happen kid!” You’ve heard it before but it still stung, not giving you any time to react, the older man made his way past you and out of sight.

Every holiday or party after that he would bring a new Tiffany to the house, flaunting her in front of you at every chance he got but you never backed down, you did everything you could possibly think of to degrade her in front of everyone and at the end of every night you’d hold onto him a little bit too long like a lioness marking her prey. Nothing prepared you for his last minute appearance at Christmas though! Strolling in, in that stupid Santa hat and that stupid bimbo. The audacity of him to ruin my Christmas like that, to corner me like that! What made it worse was the gift he got you, a fucking Barbie. You made some quick retort about how you were too old for Barbie’s and how Tiffany would probably enjoy it more, he’d correct you on her name like usual but the boxed doll was a constant reminder of how he managed to get under your skin every single time

Part Two 

[extremelyblackandwhite]

a year in the life | mob boss! s.s.

pairing: mob boss!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

main work: handmaid

season: winter ❄️

    - Elizabeth! - Sebastian sighed as he followed his two year old daughter who was running around the couch with her white dress stained in blue watercolours. Out of all the days in week of the year his daughter could’ve gotten her clothes dirty, it just had to be when his father-in-law was in the town. The same father-in-law who was still not very friendly with him. Turns out marrying and knocking up his actual daughter was where he drew the lines of niceties. The last thing he needed was to hear another snide remark “Doesn’t my daughter have enough money for you to buy my grandchildren some clothing or has your side of the business gone wrong already?”. Of course, Mr. Forrest seemed to forget children weren’t particularly known for keeping things tidy, specially when 2 of them were still very young.

  - Seb? - Y/N walked into the living room, dressed in a white tweed dress and low heeled shoes, holding Ollie against her. - Elizabeth, stop running away from your father and go change.

  - But mummy ...

  - No. - Y/N interrupted her daughter, one hand on her waist and the other one still holding Ollie. - You have five minutes to be here with some clean clothes or you’re not going to the Winter Fair.

  - Grandpa wouldn’t let that happen. - she pouted.

  - Wanna bet? - Y/N cocked her head slightly to the side.

Lizzie dropped her act and walked past her mum to go back inside her room. Sebastian sighed out of relief, walking over to his wife to kiss her forehead. He didn’t understand why she was so afraid of taking hold of her father’s spot in the family at some point considering she was very good at taking leadership in the home. Heck, if there was someone who couldn’t control her children without even trying it would be her. Forget the many years he had had controlling way more complicated and dangerous people, when it came to his children, he had as much authority as a soft pudding.

She settled Ollie back on the ground who immediately rushed to the toys on the ground, happy he could play without his siblings around. Y/N wrapped her arms around her husband, playfully swinging around as if they were dancing. The winter season was always incredibly romantic for the two of them, mostly because her family tended to come into town and want to spend more time with the children which meant the two of them had more time together. The door bell rang and chaos irrupted as Elizabeth and Nate rushed over to the door. Y/N rolled her eyes, following her children to the door. 

Ollie stepped forward, hugging his father’s leg as he always did whenever someone who wasn’t Y/N or Sebastian rang the door bell. There was no missing the extended family with the four year old, which Sebastian greatly appreciated as no one in her family, either it being her mother’s side, her father or her half-brother cared much for him either. Her father walked into the apartment, greeting the children before he started to inspect everything as he always did. Turns out if his daughter is not living in a gold palace which 10000 servants, it is not good enough. 

    - Oliver, you’ve gotten bigger. - Mr. Forrest said in the tone he sparred only for Y/N and his grandchildren. Ollie tightened his hold on Sebastian’s leg, slightly pushing on his trousers so he could be held up. Sebastian lowered down to pick him up. - Sebastian, I assume you’ve gotten the business deal with the Carranos. My family has a reputation to uphold.

    - Dad, no mob talk in the house. - Y/N crossed her arms, coming over to Sebastian’s side. - No mob talk in front of the children either. 

    - I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s important business, you know that. - she moved her attention to Ollie who had his head on Sebastian’s shoulder. - It’s okay, bubba. It’s just grandpa. Don’t you wanna go with Nate and Lizzie to the winter fair?

    - No. - he turned his face away from his mum, hiding in Sebastian’s shoulder.

    - Aw bud, what about Santa? Don’t you wanna see Santa?

    - Is Santa gonna be there, daddy?

    - Of course he is. - Sebastian bolstered. - You have to tell Santa what you want for Christmas. 

    - And make sure Lizzie doesn’t ask for a lot? - the four year old commented before being put on the ground. Sebastian chuckled, wrapping his arm around his wife as the three children were met by Dan. 

   - They need to be here before 9, dad. Not 10 or 11. - Y/N pointed out. - Lizzie is in a running phase so hold her hand at all times and Ollie gets overwhelmed with big crowds. Nate can calm him down but it always shakes him a bit. 

   - It’ll be fine, sweetheart.

Sebastian kept a tight hold on Y/N as they said goodbye to the kids who all left with her father and Dan, leaving the two alone in a now very silent penthouse. They didn’t like not having the children around, mostly out of overprotectiveness. The two of them hadn’t had particularly healthy relationships with their parents or idillic childhoods and Y/N had just started to have a relationship with her father and mother’s side of the family, so the two liked to spend their free time trying to make their children’s childhood as good as they could. 

   - They are going to be fine, angel. - Sebastian kissed her temple.

   - But Ollie ...

   - Ollie is gonna be fine. He’s like his mumma. - he pulled her away from the door and into an embrace. - Besides, when was the last time we spent some time just the two of us?

   - How old is Lizzie? - she teased. - You know my dad, he always talks about ... mob stuff.

   - Angel, it’s fine. He’s not exactly gonna give them a Ted talk on the mob. 

   - I know but you know how the kids are. Ollie doesn’t like big crowds and Lizzie is always running.

   - Nate is there. He’ll watch over them. I might be starting to think you just don’t want to spend alone time with me. 

   - It’s not that. I love you. - she leaned forward. - It’s just ... it’s gonna be my birthday soon which means it’s gonna be my mum’s ... you know the anniversary of it. I keep thinking about the kids and if they’re safe and if something was to happen to them, I just, I couldn’t bare it.

   - You think I’m gonna let anything happen to you or to my children? - he cocked his head to the side. - They’d be dead if they even thought it. They’d be dead if they even made one of my kids cry. You got nothing to worry about, okay? Besides, your dad would probably let people kill me first then touch you or the babies. 

   - Don’t say that. I don’t want anything to happen to you either. 

   - Angel as long as you’re married to me I’m not going anywhere. Even if you weren’t ... I’d probably not go anywhere either. 

   - Stalker, much? - she joked.

   - Oh, yes, I am obsessed with you. - he kissed her. - What should we do today?

   - Do you have any candles?

   - Are we going to summon the spirits? 

   - No but you could drip wax over me. 

   - Angel, you’re toying with me. 

   - Not really, I was hoping you’d toy with me.

[panda-noosh]

the normal one {Leo Valdez x Reader}

Words: 14k

Summary: Your sister is the demigod. You’re just the unlucky one who got dragged into her mess.

Genre: angst??

Notes: support my writing or ask me about commissions! - omg happy first day of nano y’all. 

---

  You never knew your sister was a demigod. 

   Of course you didn't; it's not the kind of thought that crosses the mind of a logical individual, though it seems obvious now that you're being greeted with the proof. 

   Emma has never been particularly normal. She's three years older than you, and yet she carries herself like she's been through years upon years of unforgiven trauma, glaring at anyone who dares even speak to her. You used to just describe her as grumpy, not-a-morning-person, just leave her alone and you'll be fine.

 Now, you're beginning to think it might not be as simple as all that.

    Your day starts off pretty normal; you wake up, greeted by the sunlight streaming through the curtains you once again forgot to close over the previous night. You look down, not surprised to see you're still dressed in a pair of jogging bottoms and a loose white shirt instead of the pyjamas your sister has been trying so desperately to make you wear at night. You got ready, brushing the knots from your hair before marching downstairs. 

   Your mum is in the kitchen, whistling to herself, frail hands forever trembling around the pot of boiling oatmeal; you and your mum don't really talk that much. She favours Emma over you, and she's never found much point in wasting breath on the child she doesn't necessarily like. She'll smile, feed you, let you have a roof over your head, but neither of you pretend like your relationship with each other is permanent. One day you're going to move out, and your mum is never going to contact you, never going to step foot in your house, never going to give you a house-warming gift. 

You're fine with that. 

Emma is sat at the kitchen table, her head in her hands. It's not even that weird of a sight, considering you've always known Emma to be into the dramatics. You sit across from her, folding your arms over the table before whispering, rather loudly, "Rough night?" 

Her head jerks up, revealing her wild, bloodshot eyes. "What?" 

You laugh, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl in the centre of the table. "You look like shit, Em. Where have you been all night?"

 Her jaw twitches, and she doesn't respond, which is a pretty normal reply for her, especially at this time of day. 

 "Whatever," you mumble. "Can I borrow that fancy deodorant you bought back from that summer camp you go to?" Emma nods. You grin, banishing the conversation all together as you stand and skip upstairs.

 So, yeah. The day was starting off pretty normal. Not a single worry in sight. You would go to school, mope around classes for a few hours, come home and stress eat over a pile of unfinished homework that was probably due multiple days ago. 

Instead, you have to deal with the boulders being thrown through Emma's bedroom window. 

The first one hits just as your grabbing Emma's fancy deodorant from her bottom drawer. There is no warning, no low whoosh sound that would give you a chance to step away and make a run for it - no. Instead, it goes straight to the shattered glass and bloodied arms. Instead, it goes straight to the boulder smashing against your hand, crushing your fingers against the wall.

 You are stuck, legs crumbling beneath you. You should be slipping to the floor right now, probably unconscious, maybe dead, but your hand, trapped between the biggest rock known to man and the wall, keeps you upright. Blood leaks from gashes forming on your fingers, dribbling down your wrist, your arm, dripping onto your knees. You stare at the scene in shock for a moment, unable to register what on earth has actually just happened. 

And then Emma is screaming your name, thundering up the stairs, and you're crying out, trying to form words but they get lodged in your throat, replaced by the overwhelming pain and realisation that you're going to die, you're going to fucking die on your sisters bedroom floor because there is so much blood, and there is no way in hell you won't be drained before the end of this day, probably within the next ten minutes, probably within-

The door opens. Emma barrels inside, wielding a golden sword that honestly just makes you think of course she has a golden sword. 

"You son of a bitch!" she cries out, darting to her bedroom window. She stands upon the sill and waves her arms at the sky. "You got the wrong L/N, you idiot! Get back here and finish me off if you're so tough!" 

"Emma," you croak, tears flooding down your cheeks. "Little help here." 

"It's the giants." She leaps off the window sill and swivels round, darting to your side. Something has changed in her, something you've never seen before; she seems stronger, her eyes a little brighter yet still eerily dark at the same time.

 She crouches beside you and begins manoeuvring your trapped hand back and forth. You hiss, throwing your head back as blood spurts down your arm, staining your shirt. Emma grits her teeth, keeping her eyes peeled on her work. "They've found me," she continues muttering. "We need to get out of here - all of us. You, me, Mum. They know where the house is. How did they find out where the bloody house is?" 

"Can you shut the fuck up talking crazy for one second?"

 Emma pays you no mind, taking a tiny knife from her back pocket and wriggling it between the wall and the boulder. "I'll have to get in touch with Chiron, tell him I'm bringing a few mortals with me to camp this summer." 

You grunt. "I'm not going to some hippy-Christian summer camp with you." 

"It's not a hippy-Christian summer camp." Emma swats your head, forcing you to look away from the blood dribbling down your arm. "It's a place that will keep you safe, alright? So don't argue." 

"Don't tell me what to - AH!" The boulder falls, crashing to the floor. Tables rattle, things tumble off shelves, and your hand is freed. You pull it to your chest, but Emma doesn't let it go unaided for long - she grabs your wrist and tugs it back, examining the damage; your nerves have clearly been ripped, fingers cold from lack of feeling. Gashes have been made into the back of your hand, fingers torn to shreds. 

 She shakes her head. "I'll get Will to have a look at this."

 "No, you idiot, you'll call 999 before-" 

"We have to go now. That giant will be back soon enough, especially once he realises I'm taking you guys with me." Emma doesn't even give you a chance to respond before she's grabbing your good hand and dragging you from her bedroom. You hiss in pain, stumbling behind her, but there's really no point in arguing. When Emma has her mind set on something, she goes for it no matter what objections people put in place. Mum always said she gets that from her dad, but you've never met the man, so you wouldn't know.

 Speaking of your dear old mother, the woman doesn't even give you a second glance when Emma drags you into the living room and shoves you onto the sofa next to her; she's frozen in fear, fingers pulled to her lips as she bites on the nails, a habit she's had for as long as you can remember.

 She shakes her head, dazed. "He's coming back to me. He's sending signs." 

Emma groans. Looking over, you see her with a phone pressed to her ear, big and bulky with an oversized antennae peeking from the top of it. "Mum, that wasn't Dad sending signs. That was a giant trying to kill me." 

You blink, certain your blood loss is contributing to this wild conversation somehow. "A giant? Your dad?" 

Emma raises a finger, telling you to be quiet. Mum whimpers at the movement and goes back to chewing her nails, gazing steadily out the window. She looks terrified, but her knee is bouncing in that way it always does when she's excited. You've given up trying to understand her. In fact, you've given up trying to understand your entire family.

So you just sit there, trying to fight off the black spots dotting your vision and the blood dribbling through your fingers; you don't know why Emma hasn't called 999 yet, considering you're basically on the verge of unconsciousness, but your throat is too dry to ask. Instead you listen as she says, "Leo! Where are you? Are you close?" and then she sighs in relief, and within three minutes, there's a knock on the door and she's barrelling out of the living room to grab it.

 You look up, dazed, when she returns with a small curly haired boy in tow. He's a bit scruffy, you have to admit, but in a cute way, like a bunny with a bit of dirt on its nose. 

"Not really the time for guests, is it, Em?" you grumble, before falling face first into the floor. 

--- 

You wake up, and immediately wish you hadn't.

 Emma always messes things up - always. 

Her life has to be so damn dramatic all the damn time, and you're getting pretty damn sick of being dragged into it. All you want to do is sit in bed with a nice blanket and a cup of tea, maybe practice a bit of witchcraft, maybe sink into the dirt and become one with nature. 

You don't want to be hunted down by rabid, murderous giants, that's for sure.

 You also don't want to be trapped in a hospital bed at some hippy-Christian camp you don't even know the name of. But that's exactly what has happened. 

When you open your eyes, you're greeted by the sight of white, cloth walls and multiple eager faces gazing down at you. Most of them have blonde hair and the brightest eyes you have ever seen, and then there's that curly haired boy, and Emma herself, and there's a guy who is half horse-

 "Oh god, this is death. I've died." 

"She's awake!" the curly haired boy - Leo, you remember - cries, throwing his hands in the air. "Good job, Apollo kids! Another point for you!" 

"Shut up, Leo." One of the many blonde haired kids steps forward and places the back of his hand against your forehead; in any other situation, you might have pulled away and told him to step back, but the feel of his skin against your own is surprisingly soothing. It's almost against your will when you melt into it, eyes gliding shut. Your hit with images of you and Emma as children, running through fields, her punching that guy in the nose because he called you short that one time, and-

 He snatches his hand back, startling you back to reality. "The fevers definitely going down," he says, turning to Emma. 

"Uh, excuse me," you chirp, raising a timid hand. "She's not my legal guardian, I'll have you know." You glance at Emma. "Where is my legal guardian, by the way?" 

Emma rolls her eyes, and that's answer enough. 

"Ah. Frollicking in the leaves again?"

 Emma hums. "I left her to it; we have bigger things to worry about than her love life."

 "That's a bit morbid, Emma," says Leo. "Love is a magnificent thing."

 "So is me not dying," you say, before turning back to the blonde haired boy. "Can I leave?"

 The boy blinks, staring at you like you have two heads. It almost makes you uncomfortable, but his eyes are so pretty, and the way his palm felt against your forehead- 

Leo shoves to the front. "Will here is gay, Y/N. Stop staring." 

You look away, flustered. "I wasn't even staring." 

"Yeah, you were. I see that look of lust on people all the time - I get it a lot, to tell you the truth." 

You look at his curls, the oil on his tattered overalls, the dirt smothering both his cheeks, nose and hands. 

"I'm sure you do, big guy. I'm sure you do."

 Will sighs, shoving Leo out the way again. "I'm gonna do a final check up before I let you leave; I can't give mortals any nectar or ambrosia, so the healing process might take-" 

Awkwardly, Emma coughs. The entire tent goes silent, turning to her with raised brows and narrowed eyes, but all you can focus on is Will's strange choice of vocabulary. Nectar. Ambrosia. Those don't sound like common prescription pain meds. 

"Emma..." Will drawls. "What have you-" 

"I'll talk to them," Emma mumbles. "Can you guys just give us a minute?"

 You grab Will's hand. "Please don't leave me alone with her." 

Will gives you a timid smile, squeezing your hand gently before he, Leo and all the other blonde haired strangers exit the tent, leaving just you and Emma to your own devices. 

And honestly, Emma's your best friend. She means the world to you. She's the one person in that god forsaken house that actually pays you any attention, and it doesn't even matter that she's the favourite, that Mum basically licks the ground she walks on for a reason you have yet to pinpoint. You love Emma with all your heart, but right now, you would rather be anywhere but in her presence. 

You pull the quilt up to your chin and say, "I'm very confused." 

Emma pulls a stool over and takes a seat. "I know. I should have explained. I need to explain." 

"Yes, you do." 

She hollows out her cheeks, which only makes your fear spike - you've never seen Emma act like this. She's usually so brave, bold, confident. She doesn't do a single thing without planning it out perfectly beforehand, and yet here she is, looking completely stumped. You almost feel bad for her until you remember the way she completely ignored your pleas for her to call 999 when you were fairly certain you were bleeding out. 

"Well?" you push. "Go on, Em. I'm listening."

 Emma sighs, scrubbing a hand down her face. "Do you have any idea where we are right now?" 

"Absolutely none. There was a guy with a horse body-" 

"That's Chiron. He's a centaur." 

You blink. "Okay." 

"This place is called Camp Half-Blood; it's where I go to every summer."

 "Well, I assumed." 

"It's a camp for Half-Bloods. Demigods. People who are half-god, like. . . like me. Like Leo, and Will, and probably loads of other kids, too."

 It's starting to get jumbled now, a string of words that don't form to make a coherent, sensible sentence. 

You don't even respond, simply staring at Emma until she is forced to continue. 

"It sounds insane, I know, but I'm not lying. I'm a demigod, Y/N, daughter of Ares." 

It goes silent, because of course it does. What are you even meant to say to that? The logical part of you says to just call her out on her lies, ask her where the hell you actually are and where Mum is and why she brought you here in the first place. But the other half recognises that Emma being the daughter of a war god kind of makes perfect sense.

 In your conflicted state of disbelief, you say neither of those things. Instead, you look at Emma and say, "Mum hooked up with a god?" 

Emma breathes a laugh, closing her eyes. "Yes, little one, she did." 

"And she couldn't have done the same thing when she was conceiving me?"

 Emma winces. "I don't want to talk about Mum conceiving either of us, thank you very much." 

You shake your head. "So that's why she's always hated me."

 "Mum doesn't hate you-" 

"I'm the repair kid. I'm the one who-" 

Leo pops his head in the door. "Did someone say repair kid?" 

Emma looks up, giving Leo a tired little wave. "You can come back in now. Y/N's all caught up."

 "Oh, happy days!" Leo marches in and reaches for your good hand, giving it a vigorous shake. "Leo Valdez, son of Hephaestus. Nice to properly meet you." 

"Y/N L/N, child of - uh - that guy from McDonalds.

 Emma stands up quickly, grabbing Leo's shoulders as his eyes narrow. "Alright! Now that we've got the niceties out of the way, I think it's time we let Will back in here so he can do his final check up. Sound good?"

 "Sounds fantastic," you mumble, sinking down into the pillows. "Bring the nice looking blonde boy to me now, please." 

---- 

Camp Half-Blood kind of looks like a dream scape. But a really bad one.

 A nightmare-scape. 

There's sword fighting, and teeny tiny girls in green dresses that get wildly offended when you call them Tinkerbell. There's people riding around on winged horses like it's no big deal, and you're almost certain it was raining when you left the house earlier, so why is it sunny and warm right now?

 Leo is the one who greets you when you're finally allowed to step out of the tent - the infirmary, apparently, run by the kids of Apollo. All of them were really nice. They all had really nice hands. 

"You're looking fresh," Leo says, tucking his hands in his pockets as the two of you stroll across camp together. "Will and his siblings really know what they're doing, huh? I had my doubts, with you being a mortal and all. I don't know how often they work on people like you."

 You shrug. "It was just a bit of nerve damage in my hand." 

"You passed out." 

"I blanked. It happens to the best of us."

 Leo's lips twitch. It shows you just the briefest hint of dimples, and you hate that it immediately turns your tough-guy demeanour to mush. It seems like you have a soft spot for demigods. You look away quickly, tucking your hands - bandage and all - into your pockets. It's this movement that seems to tilt Leo's attention to the clothes you're wearing, all of which are smothered in your own blood. 

Pleasant. 

He grimaces, stopping dead in his tracks. You would continue walking, being an independent mortal and all that, but you don't know your way around this place, and you'd rather not accidentally walk into a fighting arena. So, you stop and look back at him. "What's wrong?" 

"You need a change of clothes, my friend."

 You blink. "No, I don't think-"

 "They might be a bit big on you, but I have the perfect pair of overalls you could borrow. Come on. To Bunker 9 we go." 

He starts walking away before you even have a chance to protest. It really puts the fear of god - gods? - in you, because at that very moment, a winged horse slams into the floor at your side. You squeal, immediately sprinting after him, and the bastard doesn't even turn back to look at what has just startled you. He merely grins, cocky and annoying, and says, "Yeah, stick with me and that won't happen."

 You grunt, knowing he's right.

 The two of you arrive at Bunker 9 in no time. It's like an old bomb shelter, with tin walls and a door that looks like it's about to fall off it's hinges. You make a joke about why Leo can't just fix the hinges, considering he's a machine expert and all that, and Leo rolls his eyes and says, "I'm busy enough as it is."

 The room lights up without a switch needing to be flipped, which you think is pretty cool. 

 "My school used to have lights like that," you point out, gazing up at the ceiling. "They were motion censored."

 "Mm. They're handy little things until you haven't moved in fifteen minutes and they switch off whilst you're still standing there. The amount of times I've nearly put a screw through my finger." He shakes his head, tossing aside discarded tools in his search for the overalls he promised you. "Mental." 

You pluck at a random copper wire hanging out of a drawer. "So, is this like. . . your dorm room?" 

"Hm?" Leo looks at you. "Oh, no. I don't sleep in here - I sleep in the Hephaestus cabin. I'm the head counsellor, so I have to keep an eye on things, you know."

 You raise a brow. "Is your bed more comfy in the Hephaestus cabin?"

 "That, too." He blushes, lowering his eyes back to his search. "But honestly, my job is pretty important. I've got to keep that place running, keep all my siblings in check."

 "I'm not being funny, if Emma tried telling me what to do, I would tell her to piss off."

 Leo scoffs. "Yeah, I got that vibe off you."

 "So how do you do it?" 

Leo pauses, glancing over his shoulder."How do I do what?"

You push yourself up onto the counter, ignoring the saw dust that now litters your hands and the back of your already ruined jeans. "How do you get them to listen to you? You don't look to be much older than I am - surely you have older siblings in that cabin of yours. It can't be easy getting them to fall into line, too." 

Slowly, Leo turns. He leans against the chest of drawers he has been digging through, regarding you with a single raised brow. His gaze is hard, but you keep the eye contact, smiling just the tiniest bit. 

He doesn't respond with words. Instead, he stretches his hand out, palm towards the ceiling, and uncurls his fingers, revealing a bright orange flame dancing in the centre. It doesn't make you jump as it probably should have; instead, you are mesmerised, caught in the slick movements of the tiny ball of fire. 

You slowly reach out. Leo slams his hand closed and pulls back. "You can't touch it."

 "I wasn't going to." 

"You were fully going to touch it."

 You scowl, folding your arms over your chest. "What was the point in showing me that?" 

He turns on his heel, going back to digging through the chest of drawers. "That's why I'm head counsellor - no other child of Hephaestus can do that." He glances at you. "You don't think it's weird?"

"Well, yeah - very weird." You shrug. "But who am I to judge? I can do this thing where I dislocate my shoulder, and that's pretty weird, too."

 Leo blinks, mouth opening like you've caught him off guard. He swipes his tongue along his lower lip before he turns away and mumbles, "Yeah. That is pretty weird." 

Bunker 9 is doused in silence after that. Leo rummages through his drawers as you inspect every nook and cranny of the place, running your fingers along the tin walls, picking up tools you have never seen before; you can feel Leo watching you from the corner of his eye, probably making sure you're not stealing anything. Honestly, the golden screwdriver set is pretty tempting, but you wouldn't want to risk getting on a demigod's bad side. 

Finally, after what feels like far too long, Leo pops his head up, grinning broadly with a set of overalls in his hands. "Found them!" He tosses them at you with no warning; you just barely manage to catch them. "They got shrunk in the wash, so I was gonna rip them up for hand towels in here, but I'm sure they'll be more useful for you." 

You pull them into your chest. "They smell like oil." 

Leo spreads his oil stained hands. "Yeah, well, that's how life is, love. I'll let you get changed - I promise I won't peak!"

 Laughing, he leaves Bunker 9; his footsteps stop there, though, and there's a glimmer of relief when you realise he isn't just walking away and leaving you to your own devices. 

 You get changed quickly, bundling your blood stained clothes into a ball and shoving them beneath your arm - you don't know where you can possibly wash them, but you refuse to leave this camp in Leo's old overalls. First of all, they're much too big on you, pooling over your feet despite Leo's own small stature. The striped shirt he gave you to put underneath it has oil spots embedded in it, too, which just makes you look like even more of a slump. Nonetheless, you throw open the door to Bunker 9 with your arms outstretched and call out, "How do I look?" 

Leo peaks his head around and freezes. 

You drop your arms, rolling your eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. This isn't a romance movie." 

His nose erupts into flames. He yelps, swatting the fire away before he awkwardly coughs and says, "Good. You look good." 

You grin. "Thank you. Do you have any idea where I can put these?" You offer up your pile of clothes. Leo takes them from your hands and tosses them over your shoulder, back into Bunker 9. You frown. "Do you have a washing machine in there?" 

"It won't take me long to rig one up. I'll have them washed before you leave, don't worry." He offers his arm, grinning yet again. "Now, how about we go up to the dining pavilion and get some food? I'm starving!" 

---- 

Leo did not know one of his best friends was related to such an attractive individual. 

It wasn't really that big of a shock when he walked in and saw you sitting there in the living room, looking dazed and out of it with blood dribbling from some pretty severe cuts in your hand. Emma had rang him and filled him on all the details, so there was no surprise at the scene. And plus, Emma's not exactly ugly. She has that rough look to her, sure, but Leo would probably date her if she asked him. Again, it wasn't much of a surprise when he walked in and saw you there, all pretty with the innocence only a mortal could have. 

But then he got a glimpse of your personality.

 No. Scratch that. He got an entire bucketload of your personality, and he was still craving more by the end of it.

 He tried his hardest to fight off these feelings, because he's felt them before - with almost every person he finds attractive, in fact. He gets it lodged in his head that he can impress them, that this is the one and he can make it work if he just tries hard enough. It's kind of hard not to think that way - hopeful, desperate, almost - when all his friends are hooking up and getting boyfriends and girlfriends, generally just having the time of their damn lives. And Leo is just. . . making machines.

 But then the two of you went and had dinner together, and he found himself asking if you wanted to go for a walk along the lake before you would have to go to bed. You had agreed, and the conversation had continued, and Leo has never laughed so much in his entire life. 

You tell stories of these little memories you have with Emma, enjoying the embarrassing little details you add in whenever you can. Leo struggles to imagine the daughter of Ares being anything close to the Emma you're describing, but he can tell in the passion of your words you're not telling lies. 

"What about you, though?" he asks. 

Your hands drop to your side, smile curving. "What about me?"

 "Well, you're going on about Emma and all the cool stuff she used to do - what about you, though? What have you been up to?" 

It's a pretty simple question in Leo's mind; with his ADHD brain, he is able to come up with a million different answers on the spot. 

You, however, look at him with a raised brow. He stares right back. 

Finally, you crack and say, "Uh. . . I've been doing some school work, I guess." 

Leo blinks. "You go to school?"

 "I do indeed. I'm studying psychology, but it's really difficult, so I might drop it." 

Leo nods like he understands, even though he doesn't. All he really remembers of his school days is him sitting in the back of the classroom plotting his next escape. "Interesting," he says. "Does Emma go to school?" 

"She's doing an apprenticeship at some mechanics place. She dropped out when she turned sixteen."

 "Naughty." 

You shrug. "She does what she wants. I would love to drop out, but Mum would flip." Leo glances at you; the mention of your Mum seems to be something a little heavy, as your smile immediately dips, your shoulders slumping. Leo knows he probably shouldn't pry, but he's Leo, so he does anyway. 

"Is your mum tough on you?" 

"No. She's not tough at all. She's not light, either. She just. . . lives with me, I guess." 

"She just lives with you?" 

You inhale, looking out over the lake. For a moment, Leo thinks you might start crying, but then he shakes that thought out of his mind, because you don't seem like the type to cry in front of a stranger, and that's really all Leo is, which is why he shouldn't expect you to open up to him right now, not if this is something you don't want to- 

"Mum only had me because she wanted to see if she could get over Emma's dad." You wince. "Ares, I guess." 

Leo pauses. His fingertips start glowing, a sign of his anger, but he shoves them in his pockets and dispels the flames before you see them. "That's horrible."

 You shrug halfheartedly. "It's fine. She was crazy about the guy from what I've heard - it's why Emma's her favourite. She's the only piece of him she has left, really."

 "But that doesn't mean-"

 "You don't have to tell me she's a bad mother, Leo. I know. I've known from day one; I've just gotten used to it." You pick up a rock and toss it into the lake. "Honestly, we're better off out of each other's hair anyway; put us in a room together and make us talk, we'll probably burn the house down."

 Leo doesn't know how to respond; he's never felt like that. Ever. Even with his dad, there's always been some level of affection there, even though his dad is a Greek god who only pops in when he wants something; Hephaestus has never straight-up ignored him, never made his favouritism clear.

 Leo finds he wants to punch something, and not even the steady whisper of the lake can calm him down. He walks a little bit behind you as the silence settles, you picking up random rocks and tossing them into the water, apologising profusely when the eighteen tentacled octopus pokes its head up and yells at you. 

Your calmness makes it even worse, though, because that lets Leo know that this treatment is something you've grown used to. You've never known any different. 

---- 

Three days in, and Emma still insists on keeping you at Camp Half-Blood. 

"You're not leaving until that giant is dead, and that might take a while." 

You drape your arm over your forehead, still sprawled across her bed in the Ares cabin. It's a pretty musty cabin, to be fair, but you won't mention that when all of Emma's siblings are glaring daggers at you. "Do you have any idea how many assessments I'm missing? Mr Wrightchuck is gonna be furious with me, and I do not have the mental energy to deal with his shit right now."

 Emma throws a pair of shorts at you. "Shut up and fold those for me." 

 You grunt, sitting up and getting to work; you've decided to make yourself at least a little bit useful around here. These people were nice enough to offer you accommodation, even though it's clear being around mortals isn't exactly their everyday routine. The amount of times you've hissed in pain because of your hand and been offered a chunk of ambrosia is uncountable. 

 "So," Emma starts suddenly, taking you by surprise; she hardly ever initiates conversations, preferring to brood in her own head when she can get away with it. 

You look at her, sitting cross legged on the floor in front of the bright pink laundry hamper she stole off your Aunt Grace. She's not even looking up, lips pursed, eyebrows raised as if expecting you to fill in the blanks from that single word. 

"So, what?" you push. "What did I just say, Emma? I don't have the mental energy-"

 "You and Leo have been hanging out an awful lot these past few days." 

You pause. That certainly wasn't what you had been expecting to hear. 

"Uh. . . I suppose. He's a cool guy. Cool fire, and stuff." You wriggle your fingers, imitating flames, though Emma's sideways glare makes you mumble an apology and drop your hand to your side. "Is there something wrong with Leo and I being pals?"

 "Leo's a very. . . hopeful boy," Emma replies. "He tends to get lost in his own fantasies sometimes."

 You blink. "What, like kinks?" 

 Emma groans, throwing some socks at you. "No, you idiot! When he likes someone, he tends to get a little carried away. It's quite sad to see, actually." 

"What does that have to do with me and him being friends?"

 Emma glances at you; you recognise that look. It makes your stomach curl, heat rising to your cheeks. You look away, coughing awkwardly into her shirt before you mumble, "No. No, absolutely not. Leo doesn't like me that way." 

Emma shrugs, grin spreading across her face. "Maybe, maybe not. I'm just saying, if you don't like him that way, try and break the illusion as soon as possible. It's easier to just rip the bandaid off."

 "You're heartless." 

"I'm a daughter of Ares, Y/N. We don't bullshit people. We say it how it is."

 You scowl, snatching another set of trousers from her wash pile and getting to work, trying to ignore the thump of your heartbeat, which suddenly seems to have sped up a fair bit.

 ---- 

You lose track of how long it has been since you last saw your mother. 

This happens sometimes, these long stretches of time when neither of you will acknowledge the other person; it's easier that way, just pretending she doesn't exist, just pretending the house is empty besides you.

 You've been caught up in camp activities these past few weeks. Your hand is starting to heal, the nerves tingling, which Will says is a good sign. You've been talking to other campers, learning more and more about the world Emma has kept hidden from you for so long, a world that fascinates you, a world you will never want to be properly part of. 

Now, however, you see her. Sitting on her own by the lake, knobbly knees pulled into her chest, dazed eyes locked on the swirling water in front of her. The little sea creatures have long since hidden, probably put-off by the presence of a stranger, but your mother doesn't seem to care. She just sits all on her own, long hair billowing out behind her as the moon begins to rise in the distance.

 You lean against a tree just a little bit behind her and say, "Are you not cold?" 

She doesn't even flinch, like the voice of her child has no effect on her whatsoever. Instead, she digs her fingernails into the dirt and grabs a handful of stones, lobbing them into the lake. 

You sigh and crouch down next to her; she smells of sweat and dirt, a sure sign that she hasn't been taking much care of herself these past few weeks. "Let's go back to the Big House, Mum. You're gonna get hypothermia out here."

 "He will protect me," she replies. "He's always protecting me." 

"You mean Ares? Emma's Dad?" 

"He's protected me from day one; he loves Emma and I. He's just busy." 

You swallow, staring at the side of her face. "I'm sure he does, Mum. But he's clearly running a little late right now, so he's asked me to come make sure you get wrapped up before the wind eats you alive." You gaze at the trees. "Which I'm pretty sure is a thing that actually happens here." 

Finally, your mum gazes at you, lower lip trembling. "I just want him to talk to me." 

You freeze; it's most unlike your mother to talk like this, especially to you. She rants and raves about Ares to Emma, but she barely pays you any attention when it comes to things like this. You don't really know how to handle it, whether you should comfort her and tell her Ares loves her - this Greek god, surviving somewhere on Mount Olympus, overlooking the entire world. Yes, of course he still loves her. Of course he does. 

But the other half of you just doesn't want to lie. You don't want to get her hopes up any more than they already are, because anyone with a brain will be able to see that Ares has long since forgotten about the mortal woman he apparently fell in love with, and the daughter they created together.

 So, you grab your mum's hand and drag her to her feet. She slumps against you like a child having a tantrum, and you have to basically lift her off the floor to get anywhere. Nonetheless, you eventually have her standing, and together, you walk up the hill, back to the main camp.

 It's dark, probably past curfew, but campers are still walking about. Mostly the Apollo cabin, never off their feet with the casualties they have to tend to in a day, though there are other campers enjoying a late night cup of hot chocolate by the fire, laughing merrily. They don't notice you walking up the hill, don't notice your mum mumbling to herself, words you can't even grasp being right beside her. 

"The Ares cabin," your mum suddenly blurts.

 You pause, nearly stumbling over your own two feet as your head whips around to the direction she is now staring, eyes wide.

 "Yes, Mum," you grumble. "That is the Ares cabin - now, can we keep moving before my fingers fall off?"

 "Is that where you've been sleeping these past few weeks?" 

You narrow your eyes. "What? Yes, Mum, it is; Emma lets me sleep with her, now can we please-" 

"He isn't your father." 

You stop dead in your tracks; oh no. You've heard this line of speech before, and it's never pleasant. Mum gets angry, enraged, when she thinks you're trying to take on the same status as her beloved Emma, daughter of the war god. She likes to keep you in your place, which is a good few tiers below everybody else, apparently. 

"I know that," you say quickly. "Emma was just nice enough to lend me her bed so I didn't have to sleep in the Hermes cabin - you know I don't know my way around here, so-"

 "He wouldn't like you sleeping amongst his children. He told me."

 "He what now?"

 She shakes out of your grip, gritting her teeth. Her eyes are wild, dilated beyond anything you've ever seen, and when she next speaks, the words are a cry. "He told me!" She shakes her head, gripping the strands of hair between trembling fingers. "He's so mad at me, Y/N; he told me it was disrespectful to have a child with another man. He said he would burn you to the ground if you stepped out of line. He said he would kill you, just to teach me a lesson for going behind his back!" 

You blink. You're used to this. You're meant to be used to this, but holy mother of god - gods? - you don't know what she's on about. You've never heard her talk like this. You've never heard her speak of your death before, and the words coming from her mouth are so eerie, so fucking terrifying that you stumble back, hands trembling, tears rushing to the surface. 

"You crazy bitch." 

She laughs, loud and clear so the entire camp's attention turns directly to her. "That's what he said! He called me insane, and then he said he loved me and gave me a child - and that child certainly wasn't you."

 "Mum, what are you-" 

"He talks to me sometimes, you know." She nods, hands still buried in her hair, tugging her eyes back so she looks demented. "In my head, he talks. We have little conversations, but he's been so much more talkative since we arrived here, like this place really is my home." She releases her hair, eyes dimming. "But you're not meant to be here; he told me that, too. He said Emma and I were welcome amongst his kind, but not you - not a bastard like you." 

You look around; all the demigods are on their feet now, staring at the scene in confusion. It's embarrassing, absolutely mortifying to suddenly be the centre of their attention, especially under such circumstances.

"Okay," you croak out. "Okay, that's fine - I'll go, then. Leave you and Emma here. I don't mind, Mum. You don't have to get angry." 

Mum's nostrils flare. "It's not me who's angry - it's him-" 

"Well, tell him that he doesn't have to get his godly bollocks in a twist, because I'm leaving." You raise your hands in faux surrender, taking a few tentative steps back. "I'm leaving, and you'll never have to see me again." 

The words hurt, but they're the truth - especially now. Mum doesn't respond, merely stares as you take a few more steps backwards, turn on your heel and dart towards the Ares cabin, fighting desperately to push the tears away, because crying is stupid. 

This is just your mum being. . . your mum, just as she's always been. Sure, her words tonight were a little harsher than you're used to, but her neglect has given you thick skin, thick enough to take her words on the chin.

 You see the Ares cabin, and run right past it towards the lake. You nearly slip in the mud on your way down the hill, catching yourself before finally crumbling to the floor against a tree by the lake side. 

You'll take her words on the chin, but you'll cry over them first.

 ----

 When Leo hears the news, he's pretty sure his blood turns to fire.

 He's half-asleep, but that doesn't stop his understanding of Will's words, his descriptions of the scene he just witnessed at the camp fire.

 And the thing is, after hearing all the things your mum has done to you, Leo isn't even surprised to hear it's finally boiled over.

 Doesn't make him any less angry. 

He storms out of the Hephaestus cabin wearing nothing but his pyjamas. He feels the heat beneath his skin, threatening to break the surface as he forces it down, gritting his teeth. He's half tempted to turn to the Big House to give your mum a piece of his mind, but his main concern at the moment is you, and where you've gone, and where you plan on going, because according to Will, your last words to her were "I'm leaving, and you'll never have to see me again." That's a horrible thought. Leo doesn't want to think about that. 

He heads to the lake, because according to Will, that's the direction you were running, and Leo knows how much you like the lake; it calms you down, you said, and he stored that piece of information in his brain for weeks, as if in preparation for this very moment.

 He stops at the top of the hill and gazes down, lighting up the darkness with a ball of fire cupped in the palm of his hand. You don't flinch at the sudden intrusion, instead curling into a tighter ball against the roots of a tree, burying your head in your knees. The sight breaks his heart. He swallows, slowly waddling down the hill, careful not to fall in the dirt. 

You don't look up when he finally arrives at your side. "Y/N." 

"Who told you?" 

Leo crouches. "Will. He said you seemed upset."

 "That's literally nobody's business."

 Leo sighs, slumping against the tree beside you; his shoulder brushes your own, and for a moment, you stiffen against his side. "You don't have to tell me what happened if you're not cool with that," he says. "I'm not being nosy or anything." 

"Yes, you are." 

"No, I'm really not. I just wanted to make sure that witch didn't hurt your feelings too bad." He pauses. "What did she actually say?" 

Your head snaps up, eyes blood shot, lips dry. "Ah, see! You are just being nosy!" 

He swats your arm, scowling. "Be quiet, no I'm not; but how am I meant to help you if I don't even know what happened?"

 "I never said I wanted help, Leo. My mum not caring about me isn't something that can just be helped." And you didn't even realise those were the words you were going to say, because they sound so heartbreaking, so self-pitying, even though they're the truth. You've always just brushed your mothers behaviour off as normal, the only hand you've ever been dealt, but phrasing it in that way, claiming she doesn't care . . . something about that makes your heart break. 

Your lower lip trembles before you can stop it, fresh tears springing to the surface. You remember holidays, catching Emma wrapping up gifts of her own to give to you, just so you could wake up to something on Christmas morning. You remember making your own Halloween costume because your mother spent all her money on Emma's. You remember thinking it was okay, because it was all you ever knew. 

You're older now, though. You can recognise mistreatment when you see it, but it's still a blow to the chest realising that you were on the other end of it, that you're a victim, whether you want to deny it or not.

 Leo notices your sudden change of emotions and immediately lurches forward. His fingers are hot, almost scalding when they make contact with your arm, his brown eyes burning holes into your own. His eyebrows are furrowed when he says your name in a whisper, just your name, like nothing else needs to be said.

 You close your eyes. "I'm fine." 

"I wish you'd stop saying that. It's starting to grate on my skull, and I can't afford that kind of damage." 

You let out a breath of a laugh, just because you think it's appropriate; in truth, you find none of this funny. You want to curl up and cry. You want to leave Camp Half-Blood and everything it stands for, start a life away from demigods and Greek gods alike.

 What's stopping you? 

Leo's hands heat up on your arm, forcing you to look at him again. He's closer now, head tilted, all amusement flushed from his features, which is a sad enough sight on it's own. It's been two seconds, but you already miss that sparkle in his eyes. 

"Hey," he says quietly. "Talk to me."

 And you do. You don't know why, but you do. The words pour out like a broken faucet, a complete mess of incoherence's that Leo - and only Leo - would ever be able to understand. He nods along like the words are making sense, like these sentences aren't just complete gibberish.

When you finish explaining everything that happened down at the camp fire, you gasp, starved for air. Leo grabs your hand and tugs you forward, cupping your face in his attempts to calm you down; you didn't realise the tears had started pouring, didn't realise you're breathing heavily, totally lost, unable to catch a breath.

 "Calm down," he mumbles. "Y/N, calm down. I'm here. I've got you, pal, I've got you." 

You close your eyes, leaning into his palm. He traces his thumbs along your cheeks before slowly, slowly, slowly running his hand over your ear, tucking a strand of hair back. His eyes never leave your face, despite the state you know you are in, how awful you must look. 

"I'm sorry," you choke out. "I didn't mean to. . . to get so worked up." 

"Don't be stupid," he replies. "Did she really say all that to you?" 

"She's not in her right mind out here. She thinks she's one of you guys, that she can be part of the group just because-" 

"Because she slept with Ares?" 

You laugh, exhausted. "Yes, exactly." 

Leo rolls his eyes, finally letting his hands drop back to his sides. "Honestly, everyone and their grandfather has probably slept with Ares. She's nothing special, and she needs to get that through her head." He pauses. The air crackles. "But - uh - you're, you know, special. Very special."

 You blink, certain you heard him wrong. The words don't really make sense in this context, so you're trying to disentangle them. 

Finally, you crack and say, "What?" 

Leo rubs the back of his neck, glancing awkwardly over his shoulder. Over the hill, everything is silent as Half-Bloods sleep, unknowing to the panic attack that has just captured you, unknowing to the magic Leo has just cast to calm you down. 

"I said you're special," he mumbles. "In a good way, I mean. Like, a really good way."

 Your heart thunders. "Thank you?"  

     "You're welcome." He looks at you then, chirping up. "But seriously, don't let her get to you. She's just a love sick psycho who doesn't know when to back down. Clingy ex-girlfriend and all that."

 He changes the topic so swiftly it nearly gives you whiplash. You stare at him for another moment, and just when you're about to open your mouth to continue the previous, deserted conversation, Leo stands and reaches his hand out. "Shall we go before Hedge thinks there's some funny business going on?" 

You nod dumbly, taking his hand only because you don't know what you want to say in response to what he has just said - he called you special, and he said it like it was just. . . normal, like it was something you could slip in without any further questions being asked. 

You try and let the subject drop as Leo leads you back into camp. He walks you to the door of the Ares cabin, and it is there that he turns to you and says, voice low, "You can sleep in my cabin if your mum is in there; Chiron won't mind, and I won't either." 

"No, it's okay," you reply. "Mum's staying in the Big House; I'll just slip in next to Emma." You glance at him, his eyes meeting yours because he never looked away. He looks so sweet beneath the lantern light, flames dancing across his skin like they were always meant to be there, like Leo has lived his life in fire and came out smiling every time. "Thank you, Leo; you really didn't have to help me tonight." 

He scoffs. "Don't be daft. Next time you have any issues, I want you to run to me instead of the river naiads, you hear?" 

You smile and nod. "I hear." 

And so, Leo and you bid each other goodnight, and you watch as he walks across camp, past the Hephaestus cabin, right in the direction of Bunker 9. Half of you wants to go after him, question him on his use of the word special earlier on, but you don't. Your limbs are heavy with exhaustion, and so you turn on your heel and head into the Ares cabin, unable to stop the tiny smile that forms on your face. 

----

 Bunker 9 looks very nice in the morning.

 "Oh, the tin is just glistening!"

 Leo yelps, dropping a spanner on the ground as he whirls around. His overalls are covered in oil, along with his face, arms, legs, and every other body part that is presented to you on this fine Monday morning. In your hand is a plate of steaming cinnamon buns that Leo's eyes immediately fix upon, his startled expression quickly being replaced by one of pure hunger. You're almost certain you see his mouth salivating. 

You tug the plate back, holding one arm out. "Not so fast, Fire Boy." 

He frowns. "What did you just call me?"

 "No cinnamon buns for you until you tell me how many hours of sleep you got last night." 

Leo raises a brow, a tiny smirk making an appearance. "Are you kidding?" 

"Nope. I want the details, Valdez, or these cinnamon buns are all mine." 

"That's really unfair, and very unnecessary. A body like mine was made to work off two hours sleep." 

Your eyes widen. "Two hours? Leo!" 

"Can you just hand me my breakfast already?" 

You groan, but a promise is a promise. You set the plate down on a nearby toolbox before pushing yourself onto the counter, legs swinging. Leo dives for the plate, nudging your knee with his hip as he grabs the first cinnamon bun he can see and stuffs it in his mouth, nearly swallowing the thing whole.

 "Watch you don't choke." 

"Why are you so protective this morning?" 

"Two hours sleep, Leo? That's awful." 

He shrugs, fingers hovering over the plate as he searches for his next victim. "I'm used to it. I'm not even tired! It was a really refreshing two hours."

 "You get worse, you know."

 Leo rolls his eyes, looking up at you. "And how many hours of sleep did you get, Sleeping Beauty?" 

"More than two hours."

He clicks his fingers. "I want the details." 

You roll your eyes, swatting his hand away. "I had six hours, if you must know. I'm refreshed and ready for my day!"

 "So am I."

 "Liar." 

"And what?" 

You laugh, and Leo smiles, making the noise louder than it really is.

 "But no," he continues. "Don't you go worrying about me, dear. Ol' Leo Valdez can handle himself." 

"Ol' Leo Valdez needs to take a nap."

 "A nap? Sounds cowardly." He grabs the spanner from the floor, spins it in the air, catches it with an ease that makes your breath catch. "How about I show you the new updates I've made to Festus?" 

Festus, Leo's pride and joy, the one thing in the world he will talk about for hours upon hours on end; you've sat there and listened to him every single time, absorbing every word, even if you don't understand it. He talks about circuits and updates and tools you have never heard of, but he says it all with such enthusiasm it's almost impossible not to get involved. And even though you know you should be stubborn, insisting on him getting into bed right this instant, you want to see him in that state again. You always want to see him in that state, eyes glittering with passion, hands moving all over the place, smile brighter than anything. 

He doesn't need an answer. You simply smile at him, slightly exasperated, and he says, "Alright!" before spinning on his heel, the very beginning of his lecture.

 You listen to him talk like how you would listen to lo-fi music. Your legs swing back and forth, back and forth, a tiny smile gracing your features. Leo shows you different parts, illuminating the inside of Festus's new helmet with fire ignited in his calloused palm. It makes his grin impossibly brighter. It makes his curls that little bit darker. It's him.

 Finally, he spins and says, "Cool, right?" and even though you were mildly distracted the entire time, you nod and say, "Very cool. As always."

 "What are you doing here so early, anyway?" He strolls over, casually plucking another cinnamon roll off the plate and taking a bite. 

 "I saw you heading to Bunker 9 last night and just assumed this was where you slept. I thought you said you didn't sleep in here?"

 He shrugs. "I sleep in here when I'm stressed; gets me away from the ruckus of everyone else, you know." 

You raise a brow. "You were stressed?"

 "Of course I was stressed." He looks at you, exasperated. "Do you not remember anything we discussed last night?" 

You blink; it's not that you had forgotten - there's no way you'll be forgetting that night any time soon - but you thought for sure Leo had. Yes, he'd been there to help you through it, and he was the reason you went to bed smiling, but you were still a mortal, and your problems surely could never be as big as his. You genuinely sat in front of him and cried about feeling neglected by your mother when his own mother is dead, and his Dad doesn't even talk to him, too busy producing other godly children. But here he is, head tilted and eyes slashed with worry. You almost want to look away, but the colour in them has become so noticeably entrancing these past few weeks that you find it nearly impossible to do so. 

"I didn't mean to stress you out," is all you can manage. "I was just ranting." 

"You were crying." 

"I was - I mean - like - yeah, I guess, but you don't have to stress." 

Leo narrows his eyes. "You really are dense, aren't you?"

 You open your mouth, ready to chastise him for saying such a thing, but your words are swallowed by the loud clang clang clang of the door opening. Leo stares at you for a second longer before glancing over his shoulder, sharing your shock at the sight of Will popping his head in the door. His lower lip is pulled between his teeth, movements slow and timid. 

"Uh, sorry to interrupt," he says. "But we kind of need Y/N up at camp."

 Those words are terrifying. They jolt you and Leo into action almost immediately; you slip off the counter, stumbling over a few discarded wrenches and old toolboxes. Leo catches you before you can fall, but neither of you comment on your suddenly linked hands before following Will out the door, curiosity getting the better of you. 

You hear the commotion before you see it. 

The sound of your mothers shrill voice is all-too familiar, and it echoes now. Bouncing off trees, sinking into the dirt, giving you a blistering headache that immediately makes you want to turn around and pretend you never heard it. But there's a crowd, an ocean of demigods, all with weapons and angry expressions trained on the woman who raised you - the woman who tried raising you - and despite the anger you once felt towards her, you pick up your pace, rush into the scene and say, "Ay! Get that spear out of my face!" 

The demigod - you don't even know who she is - stumbles back, gaping at you. You don't give her the time of day, instead pivoting on your heel towards your mother. 

There she is, stood in the middle of the clearing with her arms above her head, screaming up at the sky. Blood coats her elbows and knees. Chiron and Emma are beside her, but it seems like both of them have given up trying to make her see sense; they simply stare, Emma with tears in her eyes, Chiron looking like he's on the verge of booting her out of camp right this instant.

 Leo stumbles to your side and grabs your arm. "What's wrong with her?" 

You touch your mum's arm. "Mum, you're being proper embarrassing right now." 

She spins. Her hair is matted, the product of having not been washed in weeks. Her eyes are dark, lips chapped and bitten, utterly destroyed. You've seen her when she's having one of her episodes, but this is worse. This is the worst you've ever seen it. It breaks your heart, even though it shouldn't. It was only last night she was basically calling you worthless, a mistake, the reason her little affair with a Greek god didn't work out. 

You swallow. "Mum. . . It's me." 

"Emma?" 

 You bite your lip, trying to ignore how much that hurts. "Uh. . . not quite, but nearly. Emma's over there."

 "Don't get me involved in this," Emma spits, roughly swiping a hand across her cheek. "I don't want anything to do with her."

 Your heart judders. Your mother's eyes narrow, like she's taking a little longer to process her first childs words. You decide to step in before she has a chance to. 

"No, Mum, I'm not Emma, I'm Y/N. I'm here to - uh - take you home."

 As soon as you say it, you want to curl in on yourself. It's a truth you've been trying to avoid these past few weeks, the idea of finally breaking away from camp and heading back to your shitty apartment with your shitty mother to live a shitty life of online classes and pretending everything is normal and okay. Behind you, Leo mumbles, "Sorry, what was that?" which hurts your heart even more.  "Yeah," you continue, taking another timid step towards her. A branch cracks beneath your foot, and your mother flinches, looks up into the sky like the sound of a god appearing will be nothing more than a simple crack. 

"Yeah, Mum, we're gonna go home, and you're gonna get some rest, okay? You look exhausted."

 "Exhausted," she mumbles. "Home."

 "Home, yeah. Remember home? We liked it there. Things were normal there."

 Mum's nostrils flare. "Normal-" 

"But our house is also where Ares thinks we are right now!" you barrel on. "He's got our address in his little address book - he doesn't actually know we're at Camp Half-Blood right now."

 Her shoulders deflate, eyes brightening. "Oh. You're right. He's probably visited so many times and we haven't even been there! He's going to be so angry!" 

"So, so angry." You wrap your arm around her shoulder, gently drawing her away from the crowd of angry demigods, of sobbing sisters and confused centaurs. You meet Leo's eyes only once, and it's enough to shatter your being, enough for the burning of tears to erupt through your senses. You want to turn and run to him, tell him you're sorry, promise to never leave him, but the feelings are so extraordinary and so weird, unfamiliar, that you can't. 

You turn your gaze to the floor and guide your mother through the crowd towards the Big House, uttering words about home and comfort, and going back to a life you want to abandon for good. You pretend it's all okay, because that's all you've ever known. 

---- 

Leo finds you that same night. 

You left your mother in Chiron's care. She fell asleep immediately, and you were free to do what you wanted after that, but the thought of parading through Camp Half-Blood after being in the centre of such a weird scene made your stomach curl, so you stayed by her side until you were positive most of the campers were in bed, sleeping.

Except Leo, of course.

 He sits down in the grass, shoulder brushing yours. You don't look over; you know it's him just from the scent of oil, and the way he cracks his knuckles, and the way he awkwardly coughs into the darkness. These are all little things of him you have memorised. Each one makes your heart ache. 

Finally, after what feels like forever, he speaks. "You don't have to do all that, you know."

"Do what?" 

"Stick up for her. Make her comfortable.

" You shrug. "I know I don't."

 "So why do you do it?" 

"Because she's my mum."

 "She's barely your mum. She doesn't even do the bare minimum for you." 

True. Painfully, awkwardly true. 

You shrug again. Leo sighs, tilting his head back. When you glance over, you see him gazing up at the stars, jaw clenched in a way that throws off the soft features of his face you have grown so used to seeing. You don't like it. 

You reach over and poke his cheek in an attempt to make him loosen up. He closes his eyes. "I don't get it." 

"What?" 

"Why you have to be the one taking care of her when she's never taken care of you." 

You swallow thickly. "I'm not. . . I'm not taking care of her. I'm just-" 

"Then what was that back there?"

 "That was me trying to make sure my mum didn't get a spear shoved down her throat. It's basic human decency, Leo." 

He purses his lips, like this is something he has never heard of.

 You sigh, slumping back against a tree. "I don't hate my mum, you know; she's done some fucked up stuff to me, but I don't hate her."

 Leo stares at you. His eyes are lazors, flames, beams pouring into the side of your head, and you want to look at him, but you think it would be a very bad idea right now.

 Neither of you say anything for what feels like forever, which is a big deal when sitting with someone like Leo Valdez. The only noise filling in the silence is the steady drip of rain drops rolling down the leaves, bouncing against the lakes surface. A few ocean creatures peak their heads up, examine the scene, duck back beneath the water. 

And then, "Are you actually leaving?"

 You bite back a sob. "You didn't expect me to stay here forever, did you?"

 Leo doesn't respond. 

"She's not well here," you continue, tilting your head back. The moon waves at you. The stars smile. "She was bad at home, but being here - around this kind of thing - it's going to drive her insane." 

"She's a grown woman." 

"Ares messed her up." It's the first time you've said it out loud, the truth. Your mother was okay before she met that man. You've heard stories from your grandparents, your aunts and uncles, of the days when your mum was winning medals for her skills in ballet, the days she was getting awards for her academic success, the days where she played mediator in a house full of people who could never see eye-to-eye on anything. You listened to them with only half-interest, because you never fully believed them. You had lived with the crazy side of her for too long by that point.

 But it's true. Ares waltzed into her life, promised her the world, gave her this child with skills beyond human comprehension, gave her a taste of real love for the first time in her life - and then he left. 

 "Why do gods think they can just get away with that?" you find yourself asking before you can stop. "Mess with people's lives like that. Why do they think that's okay?" 

Leo sighs. "They run the world. They can do whatever they want." 

"That seems really unfair." 

"Yeah, well, it's also unfair that you have to give up your own happiness for your mum." 

You close your eyes; there it is again, the topic breached. Leo doesn't understand that this is all you've ever known - caring for her, making sure she's okay, being ignored and neglected because you're not the gods child. He doesn't understand that this has been your life from day one. You were never given a chance to mind it. You were never given a chance to know anything else.

 "You know, I think this place could really benefit with someone like you." 

You look at him. "You're just saying that." 

He shrugs, picking up a pebble and lobbing it at the lake. Always keeping his hands moving, never being still. "Maybe. Maybe I'm just a little desperate for you to stay." He looks at you. "Is that weird?" 

You swallow, unable to respond, because you want to tell him no, no of course it's not weird, please keep talking and I'll stay, I'll stay here with you, I'll never leave, I never wanted to leave in the first place.

 Leo looks down at his hands, fingers fiddling with the threads dangling from his overalls. "Sorry. I - I didn't mean to - like - put you on the spot or anything. I just care about you. A lot. And I hate seeing you upset. It bothers me."

 The way it says it, words spoken through gritted teeth, makes your heart stutter. Oddly, it reminds you of those days spent laughing in Bunker 9, calling him stupid as he tried so hard to keep you amused, like he wanted to keep your attention as firm as possible so you wouldn't get up and leave. For once in your life, someone wants you to stay. 

 And it's sad - heartbreaking, even - that you have been cursed with these circumstances, that the mere notion of staying at Camp Half-Blood is so beyond reality; you're no demigod. Even if your mother were to head home on her own, do you a favour for once, the chances of Chiron being allowed to let you stay are incredibly, incredibly slim. You won't entertain the idea. You won't get your hopes up like that. You won't play to your own feelings, because that has never done anything for you, nothing but leave you in a state of despair.

 And so, you keep quiet, staring out over the lake with Leo by your side, his hands working, his mind probably racing, your heart a steady thump in the distance. 

--- 

The next day, you are ready to leave.

 You packed all your things the night before. You said all your goodbyes the night before. You and Emma got into a brutal argument the night before, and now you're stood before her, trembling from head to toe as you patiently wait for Chiron to lead your mother to Thalia's pine tree so the both of you can finally be let go. 

Emma stares at you. She's been doing that since last night, her hands balled into fists, jaw strong, so she looks a little bit like her father; you can say that now. You hate him. You think you'd punch him in the face if you ever saw him. 

"I can't believe you're actually doing this for her."

 "I never understood why you hate her so much - you're the one she actually cares about." 

Emma grits her teeth, looking to the ground in that way she so often does when she's trying not to punch you square in the face. "That's not the point."

 "You don't even deny it any more," you scoff. "You've just come to terms with the fact that she basically worships the ground you walk on. How about you start understanding how lucky you are rather than giving me grief for taking care of her?" 

"Taking care of her?" Emma bursts. "She's your mother! She should be taking care of you!" 

"Right, but that's not the way things have turned out, so we might as well cut the shit now before-" 

"Leo spoke to me, you know." You freeze. Your mouth stays open, eyes widening; Leo is the absolute last thing you want to talk about right now, not after last night, not after hearing the hint of heartbreak in his voice when he realised it was too late, you were too far gone, there was no keeping you. 

Emma nods, even though you haven't said anything, even though you can do nothing but stare at her in complete shock and bewilderment. "Yeah, Leo Valdez, the boy you're head over heels in love with." 

You splutter. "What?"

 "Oh, don't play dumb! I've seen the way you are with each other. I've seen the way you look at him. I've seen the way he looks at you, and for fuck sake Y/N, you shouldn't have to give all that up for someone like her!" 

"That person you're on about is our mother!"

 "And what? That means you have to put your entire life on hold for her?" Emma drops her sword in a move close to desperation, startling you when she barrels forward and grabs your shoulders. She holds you at arms length, eyes like fire. "You're my only little sibling, Y/N; it's my job more than anything else to look after you, and I'm not going to sit back and let your selflessness ruin your whole life." 

You blink, and only then do the tears make an appearance. You think of Leo, even though you hate it, even though you've already said your goodbyes to him and you should just leave it at that. He hugged you, and you hugged him, and you apologised and he told you there was nothing to be sorry for - it was the perfect potential ending, but you don't want it to be over.

 Emma is right; you're jeopardising your own happiness for this woman. 

Emma stares at you, the tears leaking from your eyes. Her own lower lip trembles, but she's Emma, so she won't start crying. Not properly.

 You inhale shakily, ducking your head down. "I can't let her go home on her own, Em. She'll never make it. She'll never agree to go if she doesn't have someone with her." 

"So I'll go."

 You freeze. "What?" 

Emma tilts her head forward, catching your eye. "I said, I'll go. I'll take her home, get her settled, and then I'll get someone to come take care of her - a professional. Someone who should have been there for her a long bloody time ago. You can stay here for a while." 

Your heart thunders. You're certain you've heard her wrong, because this isn't right - none of this is right. Emma's the demigod. She should be the one staying here whilst you get shipped off back home with your mother. That's how things have always been, how things were always meant to be. But when you look back at your older sister now, there is no glimmer of amusement in her eyes; she's being serious, more serious than you've ever seen her before.

 She squeezes your shoulders, curling her stubby nails into the fabric of your hoodie. "I mean it, Y/N. If you want to stay here-" 

"I do," you croak out. "I really, really do." 

"For Leo?" 

You blink. 

Emma grins. "For Leo." She pats your shoulder, nearly knocking you off your feet. "Go, before her and Chiron make an appearance. I think Valdez is-"

 But you don't let her finish. You know where Leo is even without her input, and so you throw yourself into her arms, squeal a thank you in her ear before sprinting off down the hill towards Bunker 9. 

The gods should be yelling at you right now, casting lightning and rain and every other deadly element down upon you, because this must be so far out of the rule book. This must be going entirely against everything they have ever set up, every rule they have laid out - a mortal in one of their demigod camps? A mortal hanging around their children like their even close to being equal. Complete blasphemy.

 But you don't care. Not when you round the corner to see the door to Bunker 9 already wide open, little flashes of Leo Valdez skimming past the entryway. 

You pause in the trees, craning your neck to catch a glimpse of what he is doing, and it is only then do you see the spanner smash against one of the windows. The glass doesn't shatter, but it shakes and it makes a loud noise, and it's followed closely by Leo yelling out a curse that would get him blown to smithereens if his father were to hear it. 

You sprint towards the door. "Leo?" 

He spins around, eyes widening. He grips his hand, blood seeping from one of his fingers, dribbling down his wrist and landing upon his boots. He doesn't seem to care, though, simply staring at you in shock. 

And then, "Y/N?" 

You throw yourself forward, grabbing his wrist. The blood from his gets caught beneath your fingers, but you don't care. You stare at it, shaking your head, whispering his name over and over, and all he can do is stare at you, dumbfounded, before he exclaims, "Hey, wait!" and stumbles back, yanking his hand from your grip in the process.

 "Leo, let me have a look at that-" 

"You shouldn't be here right now!"

 "Okay, Leo, yes, we'll discuss that later, but please, let me look at your hand. What the hell did you even do?" 

 You reach for him, but he's like a wild animal, startled and afraid. He stumbles back, nearly tripping over a toolbox discarded on the floor. You notice the mess that wasn't there this morning, the tools laying everywhere, sheets of torn paper thrown left, right and centre, broken glass littering the hard floor.

 "Jesus, Leo," you gasp. "What have you been doing in here?"

 "Why are you back? Why aren't you away yet?"

 You lift your gaze, narrowing your eyes. "If you want me to go, you can just say so." And right now, looking at the scene around you and the state of Leo's hand, and his startled expression, you don't even feel bad that he very well might just ask you to turn and leave. Your mind is preoccupied, wanting nothing more than to grab him and force him to shut up so you can pay some attention to the gaping wound on the tip of his finger. His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. He's staring at you, unable to move, small of his back pressed against the workbench. The blood welling in his fingertip looks to only be getting worse. 

"Leo," you say softly. "Please, can we talk about this later?" 

He doesn't respond, but he doesn't run away when you take a step towards him, either. His eyes never leave your own as you reach for his hand and pull him towards a chair in the corner, slowly pushing him into it. You softly ask him to reach into that magic toolbelt of his to pull out some medical supplies, and he does so with trembling hands, never saying a word, never really needing to.

 You get to work in silence, trying to ignore the thumping of your own heart, the tremble of your own hands, the desperate need you have to just apologise over and over and over for scaring him so bad, for startling him to the point where he can't even form a full sentence, to the point where he was willing to run away from you. 

You clean the wound and bandage it the best way you can, remembering all those times as a child when you would cut yourself by accident and your mum would be too dazed or too neglectful to take you to the hospital or do anything about it herself. 

Leo watches your hands working wonders until it's all finally complete and you step back, admiring your handiwork with a pleased grin on your face. "Not too shabby." 

Leo swallows. Finally you take the time to look at him, his pale face and startled eyes; he looks like he's on the verge of tears, which really isn't the reaction you were hoping to receive when you walked back into Bunker 9.

 You fold your arms over your chest, nibbling your bottom lip as you say, "I'm staying."

 Leo exhales shakily. "I don't get it. Last night you were so adamant-"

 "I know. I know I was, but I never wanted to go in the first place."

 "So why-" 

"Emma made me realise some things." You push yourself onto the workbench behind you, the very same spot you always found yourself sitting when Leo is working away on one of his projects. You used to sit with your legs pulled beneath you, watching him work in silence. 

 He stares at you. "I fully prepared myself to never see you again." 

You wince. "I'm sorry."

 And then he's scrambling out of his chair, stumbling between your legs, grabbing your hands, tugging them into his chest, all in that order. You gasp at the touch, the rough fabric of his plaster rubbing against your wrist, the forever warm touch of his skin so familiar yet you crave it so badly. 

He's shaking his head, mumbling "No," on repeat beneath his breath

. "Leo. . ." 

"I didn't mean to make you feel bad," he says. "So don't apologise to me again, alright? I don't want it. I don't need it - all that matters now is that you're here, and you - you said you're staying." He looks up, almost timid. "Did I hear that right?" 

You nod, dazed; he's not mad. He's happy. He's smiling, and his eyes are doing that thing again where they glint and they crease into crescents, and he looks so cute, so happy, so like the Leo you've come to know and love so deeply. It makes your heart stutter. It makes  this entire thing so, so worth it. 

He grins. "Oh gods, Y/N, you scared the shit out of me. I nearly tore this place to the ground-" 

"I can see that," you croak. 

He winces, glancing awkwardly over his shoulder. "I didn't mean to - It was honestly an accident, but-" 

"It's okay, Leo." His head snaps back round. 

"It's okay?"

 "It's all okay." 

You reach forward, winding your arm around his neck, dragging him closer. His curls flood through your fingers, his eyes fluttering closed for a split second before he opens them again and says, "Can I kiss you?"

 You nod, because of course he can. He does just that, pressing his lips to yours delicately, so, so delicately, like he's afraid you'll shatter. His hands are tender on your hips, thumbs rubbing gentle, mindless circles into the fabric of your shirt, and it's all so slow, all so gentle, but your heart is exploding into constellations, sprinkling over your being in a way you have never experienced before.

 For someone who is never still, never calm, never quiet, his kisses are like a warm summer afternoon spent wading along a beach. They are aquamarine waters and birds chirping around a morning sunrise. They are everything and nothing and more than enough but never enough all in the same breath.

 He pulls away first, uncertain, glancing nervously into your eyes as he slowly releases you. He takes a steady step back, rubbing the back of his neck, and it takes everything in you not to pull him back in. 

Instead you laugh, swinging your legs back and forth like a giddy child. "Don't look so sheepish or I'll think you've poisoned me." 

"I'm not very good at that," he mumbles. "Machines don't usually need kissed, so I don't tend to do it that often." 

"I'd hope not." You grab his hand, pulling him back between your knees. "I'm sorry for scaring you earlier." 

He opens his mouth, ready to protest your apologies once again, but you cut him off with five fingertips pressed to his lips. His eyes cross over as he glares at them, making you giggle. "I know you said I shouldn't apologise, but I shouldn't have been so. . . hasty. I shouldn't have lost my temper with you. I should have let you speak-"

 "I don't say very interesting things."

 "You say the most interesting things." You drop your hand, intertwine your fingers with his. "But I'm staying, Leo. I promise." He exhales shakily, like this is what he has been waiting to hear for a while now; it breaks your heart, rejuvenates you at the same time, and you realise suddenly just how awful it would have been to pack up your stuff and head home, to live a life without Leo Valdez in it. 

---

 Your mother looks a little better. A little healthier. A little happier.

 Emma sits beside her, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, a denim jacket over the top. She looks happy, too, a little exhausted, but you never expected anything less. She's still smiling, though, and when her face appears in the Iris message, she lets out a happy sigh of relief.

 "I thought you two would fuck it up." 

"Go to hell, Emma," says Leo.

 You chuckle, leaning back in your seat; it's been two weeks since Mum and Emma went back to the flat together, two weeks since you agreed to spend the rest of your summer at Camp Half-Blood, working on a relationship with Leo Valdez. It's been a grand two weeks, yes, but you still have responsibilities back in the real world.

 "So, how's it going?" you ask. "Mum, you're still going to therapy, aren't you?" 

"Yes," Mum mumbles, sounding more like an anguished teenager than anything else. "I've told you both already, I don't need it - I got over Ares years ago. I have my own family now - he can go to hell." 

"Tartarus," Leo corrects. 

"Whatever."

 You grin. It's been so long - so long - since you've heard your mum mention you in the same context as Emma, including your name in the same sentence as the word family. Leo must notice your sudden shift in mood, as he chuckles, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back. He does that sometimes, letting you know he's there, like you'd ever forget. You reach behind you and tangle your fingers with his, subtly placing your joined hands in your lap.

 "A few more weeks," you tell her. "That's all you have to endure, and then they're putting you on that trial, aren't they?" 

"Apparently," Mum replies. "I was thinking of coming to visit you." 

You and Emma share a look - the last time your mother was at Camp Half-Blood, things didn't exactly go well. The energy of this place drove her insane, reminded her of days with Ares, reminded her she'd been abandoned by the one man she ever loved. 

Leo cuts in. "Oh, no! I was hoping Y/N and I could come out there and visit you guys for the week!"

 Your head whips round. "You were?"

 "Well, yeah." Leo rolls his eyes, faux exasperation. "I did tell you about it. I haven't been back to your house since the giant threw that boulder through your window." He rubs his finger along your scarred, damaged knuckles, forever torn from the boulder that destroyed all your nerve endings. "I think it would be a grand old time, personally." 

"I agree," Emma chimes in. "And it would be less stressful for us - we can just wait here for them to arrive, and you still get to see Y/N!"

 Mum hums, thoughtful, and for just a second, you're certain she's going to revert back to her old ways. She's going to call you scum, pretend you don't exist, make you feel like shit all over again; judging by the sudden grip Leo has on your hand, he thinks the exact same thing. You thought this was over with. You thought your Mum had gotten better, that she finally realised you are her child, too, and-

 "I guess it would be a lot less hassle."

 Leo exhales. "Great! It's a date." 

"For you two, maybe," Emma grumbles. "Look, we have to leave in two minutes, so this is goodbye."

 "Jeez, Em, tell us how you really feel."

 "See you in a few weeks, assholes!" And before you or Leo can respond, the Iris message is flickering to a close, leaving you and Leo alone in Bunker 9. 

It's silent for a few seconds. Leo grips your hand, running his thumb along your knuckles, and it suddenly feels so, so hard not to cry. 

"She's getting so much better," you choke out. 

Leo's head snaps round, eyes widening at the crack in your voice. "Hey, no. Don't you start crying on me, okay? This is a good thing! Good!" He cups your face, forcing you to look at him. He has that goofy look, his eyebrows stitched together, his lips pursed; it makes you laugh every time.

 You reach up, wrapping your hands around his wrists just to keep the feel of him against you for a little longer. "I'm not going to cry. I'm not a bitch." 

"It's all good here, Y/N," he says. "I always told you it's all good here." 

And with his hands on your face, his eyes gazing into your own, the sweet weather of Camp Half-Blood flourishing outside, you know he's telling the truth. It's all good. 

[milk-addicc]

I really liked that post you made about how Capcom feels about Narumitsu. And I'm wondering how do you think they feel about Narumayo? Personally to me it feels like they throw more hints at Narumitsu since with the other one if Takami wanted it to be canon he would of done it at the end of T&T. I also think the team could of made it more obvious in SoJ with Maya's big return but I never really saw the hints but I know I'm biased lol.

oh i’m glad you like my rambles haha;;

ahh... that ship, 

well first, about the whole Takumi “wanting narumitsu to be canon” thing, its not exactly making them canon but have more fanservice leaning heavy towards narumitsu (which was declined by the director(?) who claimed, i sorta agree with, that the game did well even without the narumitsu hinting since in the first game they didn’t have that intention and it was pure coincidence that their relationship was just THAT deep and meaningful which is incredible lmao, Takumi and co managed to slip his warning and still put at least some of the hints in TT tho hhh-). so even then, i doubt the crew actually want the endgame to come so soon hh.

okay, back on topic. what i think about naru//mayo? yea, i’m not keen on that ship personally at all, actually i despise it. like, they first met in the office, in front of their dead loved one, Mia. Maya was 17, Phoenix was 24. you have Maya, who’s supposedly still in HIGH SCHOOL and Phoenix, who has GRADUATED COLLEGE, has a JOB, and most likely has PAID HIS OWN BILLS. from that point alone, it should already feel weird. 

Maya’s an adolescence, a teenager, she just lost her sister and barely grew up, in a way she’s still innocent, notice how she tend to ask random questions and or say things that she thinks makes sense or amusing, she tends to be naive too. its kinda like.. a child.

and Phoenix on the other hand, is a grown man. heck even Maya says he’s an “old fart”, they’re legit aware of their own age gap in game and outright say it. if anything, they both act like self-aware best friends/brother-sister than romantically. even Maya said it herself, she wants to be a good big sister for Pearl and Nick.

now how about we ignore this obvious fact just for a little while and try to see it from only their interactions in-franchise. heres the kicker, you may not see it in game since they only lightly nudges about this ship (usually with Pearl, and was dismissed by Maya right after.), but in some of AA spin off mangas (and from what i heard, one of the stage shows), for some reason, this ship has their own hints despite being completely aware that Maya is a teenager.

but its okay now don’t hold your breaths, 

their “hints” are more of a one-off ish thing, most of the time a gag and not taken seriously, and unlike other ship per say narumitsu, where it actually affects their lives and changed it forever IN-GAME. “i care about Maya and understands her” and “i became an attorney because of you, Edgeworth and i don’t have any regrets” are both literally incomparable, especially given Phoenix and Edgeworth’s history together in-game canon.

anyway, here’s some common arguments i’ve encountered about this particular ship :

“but Phoenix cares about Maya a lot! he literally went through a trial against a hitman and run through a burning bridge for her!”

“Phoenix blushed and goes red when Pearl says he’s Maya’s special someone and he stutters!”

“Well my parents had a huge age gap!"

“well, Maya is 18 in AA2″

“considering Maya is a christmas cake now, Nick better tap that” 

“she’s an adult in AA6 tho”

now lets dissect each of these,

yes, Phoenix cares about Maya a lot he literally did cross a burning bridge for her but people seem to forget that this is the same man who turned his life around, abandon his dreams, study law for four years, and became an attorney to meet one man and willing to defend a girl who looks like his psychotic ex that nearly poisoned him in court. he literally would believe in his clients’s innocence no matter what, he’s by nature would sacrifice anything and even his life for someone. so its normal that he cares about Maya, but is it romantic? i doubt it, he cares about her safety and well being but does it have to be a romantic hint? no, of course not, he’s just very selfless for the people he cares about and Maya has no one to help her but Nick when she’s in trouble, he’s one of few adults she can trust and will help her out.

oh so blushing and stuttering due to embarrassment means having feelings now? and about the stuttering, he literally stutters around Edgeworth a lot lol. i’m starting to feel like people ships naru//mayo not because of their depth but because Pearl said so. Pearl finds them should be together and keep shoving the audience with Nick being “Mystic Maya’s special someone”, well if thats the case, they also explained why this happened, in-game. Pearl grew up very sheltered and among unhealthy marriages she just assumes a girl and a boy together means they’re dating and being “special someones”. she most likely just wants her cousin to be in a happy relationship unlike her parents where her father left both her and her mother but didn’t know any better because she was eight years old.

https://youtu.be/FGAqQkMEKNs?start=674&end=776

now about the parent thing and taking it personal, well my parents too had a huge age-gap of 7 years. but how come is it okay? its because they met when my mum was already a career woman at 26. she’s already an adult when my dad met her. what does this mean? it means my parents were both adults when they’re together, this is why i still like GumMaggey despite their age gap so wide, they first met when Maggey has already had a career, supposedly in her 20′s, she’s a young adult, she can buy alcohol by herself, already knows whats right and wrong and has live life independently, not a still hormonal teenager who depends on one adult figure. did your parents date when your mum is in highschool while your dad is like in his mid 20′s? sorry to hear that.

as for the last three arguments, i don’t even want to touch any of them with a five-foot pole. are you listening to yourself? do you not feel like you’re a creep typing that?

let me give you a benefit of the doubt. yes she’s older and legally an adult, but are you really discrediting the fact they met when Maya was still in highschool? they met and became friends when she’s 17 and he’s 24. sure they barely met during disbarment era, but should that change anything? why should it? how should it? like this?

“Oh this is Maya, i haven’t met her in years but boy she sure has grown up can’t wait to date her since she’s legal now.”

because thats what that argument sounds like, YIKES. 

you know? if they met under a different circumstance and Maya was like 19, i’d let it go. but they didn’t, they met because of a horrible loss, Maya, still in training, 17 lost her big sister and Phoenix, a rookie, at 24 lost his mentor. 

in conclusion, i don’t like naru//mayo at all

pairing them feels like pairing Edgeworth with Kay or Phoenix with Ema, just because they partnered in investigations, make playful jabs at each other, and saved each others’s lives before, people just think they like each other romantically despite their age-gap in first meetings (not to mention Kay sees Edgeworth as somewhat of a father figure, and she’s nearly 18 while Edgeworth is the same age as Phoenix). especially with how Maya, being a zoomer, calls Phoenix an “old fart” and just makes jokes about how so out-of-touch Phoenix is with the modern entertainment.

from observations, i have a huge hunch that almost all of them pair these two because :

1. Maya’s a girl protagonist so its a male protagonist x female protagonist type of deal and despise narumitsu because “yaoi”

2. AA6 she’s an adult so she’s legal which is damn creepy on its own, or last

3. because of Pearl shipping them in game despite being an eight year old and was so sheltered she thought a man and a woman being next to each other means they’re special someones.

either way, i only see them as best friends, sibling-like relationship with self awareness here and there since they tease the audience a lot with their gag “hints” in spin-off mangas and game. 

not only that, it kinda showcase how all male/female bond don’t have to be romantic, they can be just friends or familial and still hang together. another plus for the franchise right after encouraging moving on from ex partners. *glancing at Phoenix//Iris*

and as to the people who pairs this for some odd reasons, sometimes i just want to ask these questions,

“how would you feel if you’re in Phoenix’s shoes? met your mentor’s little sister at age 17 while you’re 24, would you feel romantically interested in this high schooler?” because i don’t, to me anyone 3 years younger than me is like a baby, how would Phoenix feel when Maya’s 7 years younger?

“also... why even? narumitsu and other less questionable pairings are RIGHT THERE in the open!”

but oh well people can like and pair whatever hhh, 

and there you have it, my even longer rambling hahaha sorry;;

Edit : To add the final nail to the coffin, Phoenix outright has said that Maya’s like his kid, like a niece.

Edit 2 : remember that this is simply my personal take, you can somewhat use this to make yourself feel better about your pair nor simply just to hate on the ship itself but do not use this to dictate actual people what to ship and not to ship. 

please don’t be destructive towards others.

[floralguccistyles]

nine: aliens, bigfoot, and nerds, oh my!

“Have you been eating, sweetheart? You’ve lost at least ten pounds since the last time I’ve seen you.”

My father rolled his eyes from over my mother’s shoulder as she pulled me into a big hug. Every time I saw my mother, she mentioned how skinny I was getting even though I was sure I had gained about five pounds since the last time I’d seen her. It was usually an excuse to come into my flat and make us a giant dinner, which I would never complain about. Her arms squeezed my shoulders as she released me, pulling back so she could look at my face.

“Pretty as ever, sweetheart.” 

“Eva, can I please hug our daughter hello now?”

I laughed as my mother made a big deal of moving out of the way so my father could hug me. His embrace was familiar, his arms the ones I ran to when the bullying in secondary school got too bad to handle on my own. He had wiped my tears away and said “you’re one of a kind, mija, and they’re jealous of that.” 

“Was the drive okay?” I asked them, pulling away from my father after he planted a quick kiss on my hairline. Their suitcases (the ones they had owned when they came to England) were decorated with vibrant stickers from Cuba. They were worn now, scratched at the corners, but their color had miraculously remained. 

“It was wonderful. It’s been so long since we’ve been to London, and now look at us! We’re here to celebrate our daughter’s book!”

Inviting them to the book release party had been a last minute decision, but I found myself happy that I had. Though I knew they were proud of me, I also knew that they didn’t really understand a lot of the fandom stuff I had discussed in several chapters. They would read it to support me, of that I was sure, but I was uncertain about if they’d actually enjoy it. 

“You probably won’t understand a lot of it, Mum.”

“You don’t know that. Your father and I have been watching that Doctor show...what’s it called, Roberto?”

“I don’t know, Eva. I fall asleep when it’s on.”

“It’s called Doctor Who, Mum,” I snorted out, biting back a bigger laugh. 

“Whatever it’s called, we’ve been watching it. And we were alive when Star Wars came out, you know. I was there for the Darth Vader reveal and everything. Mamá took me to the theater and got me an extra large popcorn.”

I liked hearing little stories like that. It was almost too easy to picture my mum, sitting there in a little theater in Cuba when the true identity of Darth Vader was revealed. My grandmother had probably grasped her chest with her hand and shouted “¡Dios mío!” at the top of her lungs. If I eventually travelled to Cuba, if the movie theater was still there, I decided I would visit it.

The three of us piled into the Uber I had called for us, which wasn’t hard because their suitcases were so small. On the way to my flat, my parents regaled stories about their drive to London and how she was upset my dad wouldn’t let her listen to Dua Lipa on the radio because “that Dua Lipa girl was very talented, Petra.” We made it back to my flat with only three arguments broken out between them.

“You guys are staying in my room and I’m camping out on the couch,” I informed them, helping my mum to carry her suitcase in. “Sorry it’s so cramped. It’s perfect for me, but unfortunately having guests is a little difficult.”

“We could have stayed in a hotel, baby,” My father commented.

“I’m not going to make my parents pay for a hotel room. I can sleep on the couch for one night and survive, Dad.” They had been to my flat before, but I still showed them where the extra towels and soap was in the bathroom. “The party’s at seven tonight, and dinner will be served. I’ve got to go a little earlier, but I’m just a text away if you need anything.”

“My baby,” my mum said, her eyes glistening, “we are so proud of you!”

I found myself enveloped in another tight hug, this time joined by my father. The lump in my throat grew when I thought of their praise. Too often, I had taken their support for granted. “I love you both.”

“We love you, mija.”

A sudden knock on my door had us pulling apart. “Were you expecting anyone, baby?” my mum asked, going to the front foyer and looking out the foggy windows. “It’s a boy, Roberto!”

“What?” 

I moved around my frozen parents to answer the door, swinging it open and greeting Harry Styles’s smiling face with a blank look. I had no idea what Harry was doing here, but he really had very impeccable timing. 

And by impeccable, I meant shit. 

“Morning! I was thinking about grabbing something to eat at a little bistro around here and thought I’d come by and see what you were up to today. Wanna join?”

Speech wouldn’t come. I felt the stares of my parents behind me, still hidden from Harry’s view, and how they would squeal and gush when they found out I was on somewhat good terms with Harry Styles, something they’d been trying to get me to do for years. “Harry—”

“Harry?” My mum’s voice asked loudly from where she was standing. She marched up behind me and swung the door open a little wider so he could clearly see her. “Oh my goodness! Harry Styles! Petra, it’s Harry Styles!”

“I know who he is, Mum,” I whispered in an embarrassed voice.

“Last time I saw you, you were about four feet tall,” My mother cooed, stepping forward. Before Harry could react, she had him in a tight hug, wrapping her arms around his body. “Petra didn’t tell me you were friends again!”

I bit down the urge to argue that we were never friends, but my mother wouldn’t listen. She never had when it had come to my bullies at school. “Just give them a chance to change, Petra,” she had told me when I would bury my face in her shoulder and cry that I didn’t want to go to school.

“Hi, Mrs. Gallego. I didn’t know you guys were coming to town. Sorry for intruding on family day. I was just coming down to this part of town to grab some lunch and wanted to see if Petra could come. No worries, though. I don’t want to take away—”

“Nonsense!” My father cut in, reaching out his hand for Harry to shake. “Nice to see you again, Harry. Feel free to take Petra to lunch. We’re probably going to nap a little before her release party tonight. The drive was long.”

“Release party?” Harry asked, glancing back and forth between my parents and me.

I awkwardly scratched the side of my head. “My, er, book is being released tonight.” 

“What? Petra, that’s amazing!” His smile seemed genuine enough, but all I wanted was to shut the door and rewind the last five minutes. I never would have answered the door in front of my parents if I had known it was going to be Harry on the other side. “If you, um, want to go...it can be a celebratory lunch. And obviously you all are invited, Mr. and Mrs. Gallego.”

“Oh, Harry, we’d love to come, wouldn’t we, Petra?”

My eyes moved between Harry’s cautiously hopeful face and my parents, who were already grabbing my mum’s purse and getting ready to leave. In their eyes, I had already agreed. “Sure,” I said uncomfortably. “That’s fine. Let me just call an Uber for us and we’ll follow behind you.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Petra. We can call an Uber and you can go with Harry.”

There was no arguing with Eva Gallego when she set her mind to something, so I just nodded. “Okay. Er...I guess that settles that.”

We awkwardly stood around in my foyer until my mum cleared her throat. “Petra, darling, aren’t you going to invite Harry in while we wait for our ride?”

“Right. Come on in, Harry.”

His gaze locked on mine, expression questioning. I knew he felt the tension that was creeping up inside me with having him in the same room as my parents, but I didn’t want to get into it. Not when I knew it would ruin my night. The morning had already started off with self-destructive behavior as I looked back at some of the tweets about my day out with Harry from February. I had never been as aware of my appearance as I was in that moment, scrolling through absolute strangers saying the worst things. I had an extra appointment with Doctor Thorne this week to make up for it.

“How long have you and Petra been hanging out again?” My mum asked as we all sat in my living room. 

“A couple of months. She contacted me in January about being on the show. It was an amazing experience.”

“I just love listening to Petra’s podcast,” my father said happily, reaching over and patting my knee. “I have no clue what she’s talking about half the time, but she sounds damn smart saying it.”

“She’s incredibly smart,” Harry agreed, and I ignored the urge to bang my head on the coffee table. I didn’t want him agreeing with my parents about my intelligence. We weren’t really that good of friends, if I even considered us friends yet. I had admitted to myself that Harry had definitely changed for the better, but that didn’t mean the past hurt went away.

“I almost forgot, mija! Your grandma sent you Materva. She said you wrote her an email about it.”

Normally, I would be jumping for joy. The first and only time my grandmother had visited from Cuba, she had brought Materva with her and it had become my favorite drink. With Harry here, however, I felt uncomfortable and self-conscious. I squirmed a little in my seat.

“That was nice of her. I’ll email her and tell her thank you. Want me to put it in the fridge?”

My father went off to my room to grab the Materva and Harry raised a quizzical eyebrow. “What is Moterva?”

“Materva,” my mum corrected with a smile. “It’s a soda.”

“And it’s delicious. Remind Petra to let you try some later,” my father said, returning with a set of six cans. “She sent us more, but we’re selfish and kept the rest of it at home for us.”

He stocked them in my fridge and pulled out his phone when he heard the small chime. “Our Uber is here. We’ll see you two at the restaurant.”

I made sure they made it into their car okay before I hesitantly pulled open the door of Harry’s. We both got ourselves situated, clicking our seatbelts into place. 

He didn’t start the car.

“I didn’t know your parents would be here,” he said, offering me an apologetic smile. “I could tell it...it made you uncomfortable.”

“I’m just not used to this.” I gestured back and forth between us with my hand. “And my parents...they mean well, but when I was in secondary school and coming home to them crying, they told me to try and make friends with you guys. They didn’t really understand how hard that would have been. They think I should let bygones be bygones and I want to...but I don’t know if I can just yet.”

“I completely understand.” He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “Can I ask you something a little personal?”

“I don’t know if I’ll answer.” Honesty seemed to be the best approach with Harry.

“Why do you seem so embarrassed when your Cuban heritage is mentioned around me? When your dad brought out the soda, it looks like you were going to stab yourself with a fork.”

Go back to where you came from, Gallego. Nathan Penrose’s voice filtered through my thoughts. To them, I wasn’t English enough for England. But it was almost worse to feel that I wasn’t Cuban enough for Cuba.

“It’s about what that prick Nathan said when we were younger, right?” he asked softly, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel remembering it. “I so wish I would have punched him in the face.”

“It’s not just Nathan. That’s a big part of it, but it’s not just you I feel uncomfortable talking about it with.”

“Okay. You don’t have to talk about it, but...just know you can, if you ever want to. I’m serious about trying to be friends, Petra.”

The rest of the car ride was spent in silence, with some pop song playing lowly over the speakers. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, per se, but it made me wriggle around in my seat and wish I was sitting at the restaurant already. I wasn’t used to silences with Harry not trying to fill the space with his random thoughts. I appreciated that he was letting me just sit and absorb the moments, but it was also unnerving.

We pulled up to the little bistro right after my parents, who had already decided to get a table for us. Harry walked around to the other side of his car and opened the door for me, holding out his hand to help me out. My parents waved us over from their table outside, pulling out our chairs. I was seated between Harry and my mum, across from my father. It meant that I caught the sly looks they gave me whenever Harry was engrossed with his menu.

“What’s good here, Harry?” My mum asked after a couple moments of looking.

“I like their vegan buffalo wings and macaroni.”

“You’re vegan?” I asked in surprise, raising a brow at him.

“No, but I eat plant based meat when I can. And most places make their vegan wings with cauliflower, which hurts my stomach. This place makes them with mushrooms.”

“Petra loves mushrooms. You should try them, sweetheart.”

I set my menu down without really looking at it. “I’m getting a bagel and their cucumber and edamame salad.” Since both of my parents loved cucumbers, I knew I would be sharing at least a few bites with them. It was normal for us to sample each other’s meals. “What are you getting, Mum?”

“Maybe the chicken breast and mashed potato lunch special. Your father, predictable as ever, is getting a burger.”

My dad shrugged. “Don’t fix what isn’t broken.”

The waitress eyed Harry a little longer than necessary when she came to take our orders, but eventually left. I could tell he would be getting asked to take a picture before he left, despite how unprofessional that was. Then I thought about if it had been Hayden Christensen if I had been the waitress and understood what the fuss was about. 

“So, Harry,” my mum said after a long sip of her lemonade, which I knew meant she was going to ask a lot of questions, “what have you been doing now that you’re solo? I ran into your Mum when she was visiting home for a couple of weeks and she showed me one of your music videos. You’re very talented!”

I’d never seen Harry Styles blush, but I noticed a faint twinge of pink on his cheeks. “Thank you, Mrs. Gallego. I’m writing some more music right now, but I’m not sure when the next album will be out.”

“We just love listening to your first album. We listen to your group stuff too,” Mum commented, tapping her nails on her wrist. “Petra has a wonderful singing voice, did you know?”

Before Harry could question the statement, my father and I both snorted. “No, she doesn’t, Eva. No offense, mija.”

“None taken. I sound like a dying animal. Mum, I hate to tell you this, but the last time I sang, you were very intoxicated and would have thought our next door neighbor’s cat was Shakira.”

“Petra’s good at other things, though. She’s awesome on Alien Crossing. And I’m sure her book is going to be fantastic,” Harry supplied helpfully. 

“Has she invited you to the party tonight? I know her other friends are coming. Jeremiah, Veronica, and Melody?”

I shifted in my seat. Harry looked pained, like he didn’t want to say anything that would hurt my mum’s feelings. I hadn’t invited him to the book release party because this book was mine, something untainted by the memories of secondary school. Talking about my nerd stuff on AC was one thing, but publishing them on paper was another. “Mum…” I trailed off.

“He could come with us! Are you going to buy a copy of the book, Harry?” 

“Mum, he’s not going to buy—”

“Yeah, actually. I preordered it on my phone. And I was going to buy a hard copy, as well.”

Harry’s words had my mouth closing in surprise. I blinked over at him, at his secretive little smile when he raised his soda up to his lips and took a sip. “You preordered it?” I whispered, my throat thick with some emotion I couldn’t identify. “You’re not gonna understand it all.”

“Well, I’ll understand the Lord of the Rings bits now. And anything unfamiliar I come across, I’ll just make a note to watch or read it.”

This action felt more significant than anything that had happened in our hesitant friendship thus far. Even though he had introduced me to John Williams and had brought me a plant, this was the thing that felt essential. I felt like the Grinch in that moment, my heart growing a size bigger and allowing room for hesitant optimism to sink in. Maybe Harry Styles and I actually could be friends. 

Which was why when my mum suggested him coming another time, I shyly looked over at him and said, “Of course you can come if you’d like. I’ll text you the details.”

~

My publisher had rented out the Aldgate Library at my college for the release.

It felt weird stepping back into the library, stumbling a little in my black heels when I accidentally grazed a rock on the sidewalk right outside. The last time I had been here, I had my hair in a messy ponytail and was in tears at midnight trying to study for my last finals of my university career. Now, I was publishing a book. It felt surreal.

I smoothed down the skirt of my red dress, trying my best not to chew on my lip. Veronica had meticulously spread some kind of red lip stain on it that was supposed to be long lasting, but I didn’t trust it’s longevity against my teeth nervously biting at it. Plus, I knew pictures would be taken tonight and the last thing I needed was to have lipstick on my teeth. 

“Petra!” My publisher said, walking out of Aldgate in a tailored suit. She was also wearing a little badge that had “Aimee Metcalfe, Dorrance Publishing” printed right underneath a fantastic photo of her. I found myself jealous. My ID photos never came out that great. “What’re you doing standing outside? Come in, you numpty!”

I gave Aimee a quick salute and followed her inside, trying to keep up with her. As familiar as she was walking in heels, it was a new skill set to me entirely. She led me through the front of Aldgate and back into one of the large common area study rooms, which had been transformed for the launch. There was a giant banner hung up on the far left side, with #Aliens #Bigfoot #Nerds printed over it in sparkling letters. In front of the banner was a table decorated with cupcakes and cake pops, each the same color blue as my book cover, which featured a picture of myself that I hated but Aimee had insisted the readers would love. Jeremiah and Zach were shoving their faces with one of the cake pops, while Veronica looked on in disgust. Bailey was chatting with Melody by the photo booth that Aimee had suggested, which when printed, would frame the pictures in the same hashtags the banner provided.

My parents were crying in the corner of the room.

I went to them first, holding out my arms. My mum immediately let out a wail, pulling me into an embrace. “This is supposed to be a happy day, Mum.”

“Oh, I’m so happy for you, sweetheart. You have worked so hard. And you look beautiful.” She pulled back to examine my dress and makeup, pressing her hand to her mouth when she did. “Such a beautiful young woman, inside and out. Oh, how did we get so lucky, Roberto?”

My dad smiled at me. “Proud doesn’t even cover it, mija. Your mum has demanded she be first in the book signing line.”

“Oh, I did not, Roberto!”

“Petra,” Aimee said, interrupting our conversation. She introduced herself to my parents and then led me over to the podium. “You’re going to do the reading, and then Terri and I put together a fun little trivia game about some of the fandoms in the book. Whoever wins that will get a free signed copy. Afterwards, you’re on book signing duty. We’ve got about twelve hundred Sharpies lined up for you. Questions?”

My head was spinning with all the information, but I found myself growing excited. This was something I had put blood, sweat, and tears into. And I was finally getting to share it with the people who meant the most to me. “None so far. I’ll flag you down if any come up.”

“Good. Oh,” she said, reaching into her bag, “keep this close. This is your best friend when you’re up there reading and when you’re signing books.”

She handed me a water bottle with room temperature water, which was apparently better for the vocal cords. Then she was pushing me towards the podium and I hid the water bottle on the hidden shelf on my side. My book was sitting there, my own face staring back at me.

When I looked into the sea of people, I saw my friends giving me encouraging looks and my parents crying happily, my mother now with a tissue from the dessert bar that she pressed underneath her eyes every five seconds. The rest of the people in the room were people who were avid listeners of AC, the ones who sent in messages for me to read. I noticed Daisy Callahan sitting at one of the tables, shooting looks over to Jeremiah and smiling like a smitten school girl. I made a mental note to ask Jeremiah if they were officially together after the reading.

And then, there was Harry Styles.

It looked like he had just come in, dressed in a nice suit in a dark red color. I was so used to seeing him in bright neons when he was dressed up that the muted burgundy almost faded into the background. However, he was still Harry Styles and it was hard for Harry to do anything but stand out. He was fidgeting with his suit jacket, messing around with the collar of it before he looked up and caught my eye.

I wondered what he saw, looking at me standing up on the podium. I knew what my friends and family saw; they saw me finally getting one of my big wishes to come true. But what did Harry Styles, who already got his dream, see? 

I didn’t have time to think about it, because Aimee was gesturing for me to start the reading. She was helping usher people to their seats, and I felt the weight of more than just Harry’s eyes on me.

“Good evening everyone,” I said into the small microphone attached in front of me. “Thank you all for coming. This is the culmination of blood, sweat, tears, and other bodily substances I won’t mention. I can’t wait to share it with you. This reading comes from chapter seven, in which I discuss why Game of Thrones actually became so popular and how I think the last season is going to go, amongst other things.”

Jeremiah let out an embarrassing whooping sound and I rolled my eyes. 

Then, I read.

If I had expected to be embarrassed standing there in front of a crowd, reading the words I had written, I was wrong. Instead of feeling down, like I had so many times before when I discussed the things I loved, I felt powerful. Because yeah, Nathan Penrose could be a racist asshole all he wanted, and his friends could drop all my books in the puddle. But I had done it. I had written my book, I had a kickass podcast that introduced me to my best friends, and I was filled with an uncharacteristic pride.

So I went along with it. It’s what Doctor Thorne would have wanted. But more importantly, it was what I wanted.

Aimee had been a lifesaver with the water, as I found myself finishing up my excerpt and drinking nearly all of it during the applause. “Thank you,” I said after I had capped the bottle and set it back where I had it hidden. “Thank you to Aimee Metcalfe, my knight in shining armor through this process. Thank you to Terri Patterson, who spent night and day editing. Thank you to everyone at Dorrance Publishing who put up with trying to get copyright issues taken care of because I wrote about some of the biggest money shark companies in here,” I paused for the light laughter that trickled through the room. “But most importantly, thank you to my friends and family and everyone who supported me through this. It means the world. I hope you enjoy the rest of the book.”

There was a small table with stacks and stacks of my book. I didn’t think I’d ever seen that many pictures of me in one place before, including my parents’ house. Aimee started up the trivia game, and I heard the first question asked about what the aliens that destroyed New York in the first Avengers movie was called while I took my seat at the table.

“The book is awesome.” I heard from my left. I turned, seeing Harry standing beside the table, leaning against a pillar. “I could tell you love it when you were reading.”

“It’s a little overwhelming to see it all finished,” I said, awkwardly gesturing to the pile of books in front of me. 

“Would you ever want to write fiction?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure. For now, no. I might change my mind later.” He nodded, fixing his suit jacket again like he had been earlier. “I didn’t expect you to come,” I said after a few moments.

His eyes crinkled and his head tilted to the side, like he was confused. “Why? You invited me and this is important to you. I wouldn’t miss it.”

“It wasn’t hard...with the paps or anything?”

His jaw set and told me everything I needed to know. “I’ve got someone on security here tonight, just in case. I’m not gonna let anything ruin your big night, including paps. There was someone who recognized my car, but I don’t think anyone else is coming.” He unclenched his jaw and looked down at me. A softer look took over his face. “You look gorgeous. That color reminds me of the dress you wore to prom.”

I blinked. “You didn’t talk to me at prom.”

In fact, I had spent most of prom standing in the corner, nursing the lemonade I had gotten myself. Nathan Penrose had spiked it, but not before I had gotten myself a cup. I had saved up all my money for the pretty red spaghetti strap dress, but looking back it was a useless purchase. I didn’t have fun and was home drinking tea and watching Legally Blonde by midnight.

Harry gave me a small smile. “No, but I saw you. I remembered thinking you looked so beautiful and how I was an idiot for how I’d treated you.”

“You did not,” I argued, rolling my eyes at his statement. “You were thinking of your audition and what song you were going to sing. I wasn’t even a blip on your radar.”

He shrugged, bringing his own water up to his lips. “Think what you think. Doesn’t change the fact you looked gorgeous— then and now.”

I fiddled with one of the books in front of me. I didn’t know how to take his compliment. It was something I’d always been bad at, but especially when it came to Harry. Part of me wanted so badly to believe he was telling the truth; he had seen me at prom and thought I looked pretty and was looking at me now and seeing the same thing. The other part of me was hardened and cold, telling myself not to fall for it.

In the end I just decided to ignore his comment. If I didn’t acknowledge it, then I didn’t have to dissect my feelings on it.

“I’ve got to take off. I’m sorry I can’t stay long. I’m flying out to Los Angeles tonight for some meetings. But I wanted to be here.” He held up one of my books and set it in front of me. “Last time I asked, you said you wouldn’t sign it.”

“Wipe that cheeky grin off your face. Of course I’ll sign it.” He slipped a fifty pound note onto the table (more than double what he actually had to pay for the book) and opened up the title page.

The blank page stared at me. There were so many things I could write. Aimee advised me just to sign my name, but that felt too impersonal for Harry. Uncapping the pen, I held down the page with my other hand to keep it steady.

Live long and prosper, my young padawan.

Petra Gallego

He grinned when I handed it back to him. “I’m reading this on my flight to LA.”

“Might put you to sleep.”

“I don’t think it could,” he argued, tucking it under his arm. “Think I could...um...text you while I’m there?”

“I can’t control what you do or don’t do, Harry.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to give you the choice.”

The choice to talk to him. It was something I didn’t have in secondary school, but I realized a small part of me acknowledged that it was something I didn’t have now, either. There was something in me that wanted to see where this friendship with Harry went and if we could make it work.

“Yeah, Harry. You can text me when you’re in LA.”

Which was how I woke up the next morning, with a message reading: Made it to LA. Didn’t stop reading once. And despite what you may think, I didn’t fall asleep either.

~

A/N: Here is the next installment of AC! I hope you guys liked reading as much as I loved writing. I’m just so happy for Petra!