#maybe I’ll keep it on the back burner for when I’m a professional

[liliavalley]

I want to write a fantasy romance novel but I’ve never been in a relationship and I’ve never had a long-term crush before either. uh ourh

[letstrywritingmaybe]

I’m trying to write the next part of the sibling verse and I’m a little undecided over how things should go… so I’m thinking maybe I should just try and start the lying verse instead. I’ll edit the first part of the POV series later, I’m planning for a lunar new year update since it’ll be my day off. But we’ll see. I should also edit my Valentine’s Day ficlets too… I’ve not been on it at all writing wise with being busy amongst other issues… also trying to talk myself out of a big purchase but I’m kinda the worst at that cause I’m all about experiences and it’s literally on my bucket list! There’s a reason why I keep saying I’m self indulgent as hell, in all aspects of my life I’m like this *sigh the problem with being an impulsive fangirl with no chill. I’m supposed to be a responsible adult and I do not act like it

Just an addition, yo this lie verse is so typical lots of love vibes, like this is all my fics. Literally, I say this as if I don’t write fics that are like my vibe, but still. I’m just reading through my overall outline and I’m like this is what I was thinking??? Definitely very reminiscent of when I started this writing thing. Which means I hope I can keep it short, but also I’m impatient which is why I fail. I never wrote it cause too many other ideas but also cause I’m so bad at executing my visions cause I’m too impatient! Basically what I’m trying to say is, authors who can write slow burn well and keep things not super sappy I applaud you cause I could never. My brand really is just a fangirl with a bunch of ideas she speeds through cause she cannot keep focus and do it justice completely. And this is why I could never do this professionally, it’s an art and I’ve definitely not mastered it. Not even close

Unrelated thought that I’m just gonna let sit for a moment cause I don’t wanna get into it, but I’m generally curious over what the rest of the shippers think about the level of attraction between them and how extreme it can be. Cause I have my extreme of toxic as hell and girl you need run via the adoption divergent of the marriage verse. But generally I prefer softness and it’s what I typically write. But some fics I read make me want to explore the more extreme side… okay for real gonna go to bed now. Nighty night 😘🩵🌙

Update: I’ve sorta edited the valentines event ficlets and I’ve finally settled on a summary of sorts for the lie verse. And I wrote one whole sentence! Tomorrow I’ll have to edit the pov verse. I’m still unsure over the sibling verse, so it’s on the back burner. It’s a good thing I never make promises to update regularly cause I’m the worst at that

Update 2: I’ve started the lie verse and I’m undecided how long each chapter should be? Cause I also don’t know how many chapters there will be either??? Decisions, decisions… I’m 1.5k into chapter one and I’m at a good stopping point… but idk.

[weaselle]

cooking for people who have no idea what they are doing (or are just, like, real depressed)

Okay, I’m a professional cook, but also, I get depressed. This is the cooking I do when I’m depressed, because I need the simplest path to a whole meal.

This is not for vegetarians, because, while I wholeheartedly support people choosing vegetarianism, and also enjoy cooking for vegetarians, for me, the simplest path to a meal includes meat. Perhaps when I am less depressed I will work on options.

A lot of recipes focus on achieving food that is in some way special, using special techniques, or using a precise list of carefully measured high-end ingredients... and that’s not this, this is all the parts of cooking that are not those things.

First, shopping

Meats Starches Veggies Sauces Breakfast/Snack

For a whole week you’re going to want

3 kinds of meat, with five portions each. So, for example, five chicken breasts, 10 sausage links, and 2-3 pounds of ground beef. Other possibilities include pork chops, salmon, some kind of steak, whatever. 

You’re going to want up to 3 starches. Honestly I usually stick to just rice, but you can go with rice, potatoes, and pasta. If you want to use quinoa or polenta or something, thats on you.

And, you’re going to want about 3 types of vegetables, again, about 5 portions each -- and try to stay green. So personally, I usually get 5 medium zucchini, 2 medium heads of broccoli, and then either yellow squash or mushrooms. A bag of salad greens is also a good option, and I have an easy way to make a good salad, which I will do as a separate post.

Next pick something easy that works as either breakfast or a snack. For me this is a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and a bunch of bananas. Sometimes it’s nice to have an additional option here, like cereal or yogurt. 

Last, you’ll want 2-5 sauces in bottles. I would definitely recommend a low sodium soy sauce be one of them, and maybe a BBQ sauce for the other. I usually also include worcestershire and sriracha but go with whatever you want, teriyaki sauce, A1, whatever you know you’ll eat. Hell, you can use Italian style salad dressing as a cookable sauce if you really want.

Oh, and If you don’t already have some at the house, you’ll need pan lube: butter and/or some kind of cooking oil. 

Okay! we’re done shopping! Affordability isn’t the main focus here, but is undeniably important -- I live in a very expensive area, this shopping trip is going to feed me well for a week and costs me about $100 bucks. When I was living in Alabama, it probably would have cost me more like $70. You won’t need to get stuff like the sauce and rice and peanut butter every week, so you’re definitely looking at a monthly grocery bill of something like $300 depending on where you live, and that’s not too bad. 

Prep

hell no, I’m depressed, the only prep I’m doing is putting two packages of meat in the freezer and the rest of this stuff in the fridge. You CAN box or bag each portion of meat separately so you can really alternate what you eat -- me, I’m gonna eat chicken for two or three days, then beef for two or three days, etc.

and listen, don’t fuck around with microwave settings or running water on things to defrost them. If you package the meat all up separately, just move a portion from the freezer to the fridge each time you cook dinner. Or, if you do like me, move the whole package when you go to cook your last portion of the previous stuff, and just deal with the fact that it will probably still be a tiny bit frozen when you go to cook next.

Tip: When you cook dinner, you’re going to make enough for lunch. That just leaves you one small meal - I often smear peanut butter on a peice of bread and wrap it around a banana like a taco - fast, easy, practically no dishes, relatively healthy

____________________________________________________________

Cooking (this is going to take about 25 minutes)

You’re going to need

ONE frying pan, medium size w/ lid ONE boil pot, medium size w/ lid knife, a spatula and a cutting board.

If you want to be fancy, you can include a big spoon. Looks like this

No matter what the specific ingredients you’ve chosen, the basic format is going to be:

Start your starch heat pan, put meat in the pan flip meat and add veggies, cover with lid remove meat and add sauce finish starch put everything on a plate while it is still too hot to eat and you are standing in the kitchen anyway, wash the like, 4 dishes you’ve gotten dirty. eat.

Okay, before you even get everything else out, start your starch. For rice this means rinse the rice and put it in the cold water and set it on high heat, for pasta this means put your salted water on the stove on high heat. For potatoes, you can use my perfect mashed potatoes recipe (I’ll do that as a separate post) or, honestly, you can wait until you’re halfway done with the rest of everything and microwave the sucker for like 8 minutes. I would never do that in a restaurant, but trying to feed my lethargic depressed ass? Absolutely.

easy rice: Fill your smallest coffee cup with rice, put it in the pot. Rinse. Fill the same cup twice with water, add to rice. Bring to a boil, give a good stir, turn heat all the way down, put a lid on it for something like 15 more minutes.

Okay, now lube your pan. Butter, olive oil, whatever. You’re probably looking at an amount more than a teaspoon and less than a table spoon of whichever you use. Personally I try to use as little olive oil as possible, so I pour a large coin sized amount (a quarter in the U.S.) into the pan, ear off a piece of the paper towel I’m going to use as my napkin for the evening, fold it up tight, and sort of paint the oil around so a little goes a longer way.

Pan lubed? Great, turn your burner on. highest heat will work but is not ideal, medium heat will work better but is still not ideal. Halfway between the two is perfect for chicken, a little hotter for beef, a little lower for fish.

Now remove two portions of your chosen protein (that way you’ll have tomorrow’s lunch too). By the time you get the packaging open and stuff, your pan is probably hot. If it’s not, let it get hot. You don’t want the oil to start smoking (warning, butter will burn faster than oil) but if you shake a single drop of water off your finger into the pan, you want it to sizzle.

If your pan is hot, put your meat in. The more you do this, the more you’ll perfect the timing, but you’re going to cook it for ~about~ 7 minutes before you flip it, maybe a couple minutes longer if it’s chicken or pork, maybe a couple minutes less if it’s beef.

Now that your meat is in, prepare your veggie. Rinse it off, cut off any part of it you don’t want to eat, and then cut what’s left into pieces the size of a large bite. Don’t worry, it’s going to get a little smaller when you cook it. Take your time, you’ll probably finish in less time than the meat needs.

Time to flip your meat? Great. Do that, and then dump your chopped up veggie in the pan. It does not matter at all if the pieces are not touching the bottom of the pan -probably most of them will not be, a bunch will be on top of the meat, that’s fine.

Put a lid on it. Now add your pasta to the water, or put your potato in the microwave, or check your rice. If following my perfect mashed potato recipe, mash now.

Rice tip, checking: eat a grain, you want zero crunch. If it’s not done and there’s no liquid, add a splash of water and stir. It it’s done or close to done, but it is still very wet, give it a big stir and leave on the stove with the lid off for a couple minutes.

Your meat still has like, at least 4 minutes, so rinse off your cutting board and chef knife, get out a plate, table knife and fork.

 Meat done? Great. Take the meat out of the pan, leaving the veggies in. Add sauce to the pan. I like to also use a little wine, because it’s usually already in the house, if you have some and want to, pour a large swallow of wine in the pan with the sauce. I’ll often mix a couple sauces, like worcestershire and soy (makes something similar to teriyaki) or hot sauce and BBQ

Stir the sauce around with the veggies. This, called deglazing, is an important step for two reasons, 1: it will get up a lot of the flavorful stuff that has stuck to the pan and make your sauce better, and 2: it will make washing the pan much easier. Okay, put the lid back on for one to two minutes, maybe stir a couple times. Basically you want the sauce to stain the veggies.

Your starch should be done, turn off the burner, put a portion on your plate, and stick the rest in a ziplock or tupperware or something. Go ahead and throw the second portion of meat right in there with it. 

Turn off the stove and scoop the veggies onto the plate, and pour the sauce from the pan over everything.

Now, while it’s too hot to eat, and you’re standing in the kitchen anyway, wash the pot, pan, and spatula. It should be very easy because of the way you used the sauce and because nothing has had a chance to harden. This usually takes me about 2 full minutes.

__________________________________________________________

OKAY! it’s been 20-25 minutes, you’ve got dinner and tomorrow’s lunch (just add another cut up veggie, pour a different sauce on, and put it in the microwave for two or three minutes) AND there’s no danger of dishes piling up on you :) You can even add “washing last night’s plate and fork for use tonight” to where you rinse the cutting board to really keep it full circle.

It’s not gormet. It IS accessibly healthy, affordable, and easy.

If you are extra depressed, forget the starch and use more veggies; this cuts what little work there is by up to half

Using this format, you can have three good meals per day and only spend 30 total minutes a day in the kitchen — including clean up! (dishes piling up tends to exacerbate my depression and makes cooking your next meal harder)

And it’s easy to give yourself a wide variety, from soy glazed chicken, zucchini and rice one night; to steak, mushrooms and pasta the next; followed by BBQ pork chops, brocoli and potatoes... I suck at math but there’s probably a hundred options

Just to recap, because I know I was very detailed and this might seem overwhelming, once you read through the above to answer any questions you might have, simply

-Start your starch -lube & heat pan, put meat in the pan, about 7 minutes -flip meat, add veggies, lid, about 7 minutes -wash knife and cutting board -remove meat and add sauce to veggies, re-lid, 1-2 minutes -finish starch, refrigerate extra meat and starch  -put everything left on a plate -wash pot and pan -eat.

[nat-20s]

for @jonmartinweek THE FINAL DAY prompt- Pining/Longing. This one takes place, well, you’ll see

~*~

A Study of Longing, Told in Six Parts

Part 1

Martin wonders if he’ll ever get to a point in his life where kindness doesn’t feel like a shock to the system. It’s already surprising enough when Tim and Sasha invite him for drinks in a genuine offer of friendship, but for that kindness to come from Jon? Martin has no idea what to do with being believed, let alone being protected.

And now here he is, blearily opening his eyes only to find himself staring at a mass of hair. As he sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes, the shape resolves into the form of one Jonathan Sims. He had apparently fallen asleep with his head cushioned on his arms, against the cot Martin was currently occupying. It’s not an image that Martin can fully process at the moment, so instead he debates whether or not to wake Jon up or quietly get off the cot to let him get some much needed sleep. He decides on the former, both thinking that it would be hell on his back to keep sleeping in that position, and that he would like an explanation.

Hand hovering above Jon’s shoulder, but not fully touching, Martin oh so quietly calls out, “Jon?”

That’s all it takes for Jon’s head to rush up with a gasp, glasses askew, and with the texture of his sleeves pressed in red marks on his face. It is a horribly endearing look. “Hrn?”

Martin opens his mouths, closes it, and waits for Jon to get his bearings. Jon smooths down his (frankly ridiculous) sweater-vest, adjusts his glasses, and slips back on his professional demeanor. “My apologies, Martin, I, ah, must have fallen asleep.”

Glancing to the crappy little digital clock resting on a file box next to him, Martin rolls his eyes. Only Jon could be quite so stuffy at 4:32 in the morning. “No apologies needed. Though, um, was there? Something you needed or..?”

Jon shakes his head and stands up, dusting off imaginary grime. “No, no, nothing like that. I had just, er. I had heard you cry out and I- I wanted to make sure nothing was going on. It appears that it simply a nightmare,so I will be.. taking my leave. Now.”

He doesn’t know what part of himself replies, “Oh! You don’t have to go!,” but he replies it anyway. Jon does that little thoughtful frown at him, which forces him to continue, “I mean, if you wanted the cot. For sleeping. I’ll probably be awake for the rest of the night, so, you know, no skin off my back .”

“Ah. No, that’s quite alright, Martin. Try to get some more sleep, there’s still a long work day ahead.”

Jon doesn’t even wait for a response before turning on his heel and leaving. Martin sort of hates how much he wanted him to stay.

Part 2

Jon is laughing. Jon is terrified, all the damn time, and yet, somehow, he’s laughing. Honestly, he was starting to wonder if he was still capable of it. Martin is gesticulating wildly with his fork, animated in a way that Jon’s only ever seen when in they’re in the middle of a rather silly debate. He thinks this lunch’s topic was something like whether or not snakes were cute? He lost the thread of conversation about half an hour ago, honestly. Covering his mouth, he lets the giggles run through his whole body, shaking his shoulders and heating his core. He feels light, heady, like he’s reminiscing with an old friend and they’re both on the edge of having had too much to drink.

He only wishes he could trust this feeling. He wishes that he could trust Martin, that they were normal coworkers having a normal lunch, that the previous person in Jon’s position had gone into an easy retirement instead of being violently murdered. He wishes he hadn’t read that letter telling him, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Martin, Martin, who took him to lunch and brought him tea and seemed so very warm in so very cold circumstances, was lying to him.

Jon stops laughing.

Part 3

Of course, the second his body hits the simultaneously stiff and weirdly lumpy motel mattress, his phone goes off. It may only be about 8 pm, but he’s tired, and he’s sore, and he’s had a persistent headcold for the past week for some unholy reason, the last thing he wants to do is talk. However, only about four people have the number to the burner cell, and they’re almost certainly have a purpose behind their call.

Closing his eyes and letting out a sigh that turns into more of a groan, he picks up on the 4th ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, Jon! It’s Martin, I’m not sure if you have my number programmed in that phone, or if it even has caller ID if you do. Anyway, it’s been about a week since I’ve heard anything, and I wanted to make sure you weren’t, y’know, dead or arrested or anything.”

His previously tense and aching muscles all relax, without him consciously deciding to relax them, and a sleepy smile spreads across his face, because some time in the past year he’s become a parody of himself. Yes, maybe he should be more affronted by how much Martin’s tinny voice brings him comfort, but he’s had a rather terrible time of things since...since he began work in the archives, really, and he’s worn down enough that he can admit he misses his friend.

Huh. Friends. They are, aren’t they? Wonder when that happened. (He can guess, something involving a fake CV admission, but he doesn’t feel like it right now.) “Martin, I recognize your voice, no need to introduce yourself.”

“Right! Yes, uh, ‘course..of course you can. Right. Sooo...I take it you’re not dead, then.”

“Correct. I haven’t been arrested, either.” It’s only sort of a comforting lie, so Jon thinks it can be forgiven.

“Good. Great! Yeah, that’s...that’s good.”

The conversation could probably end there. Jon could probably tell Martin good night, and they’d hang up, and Jon could get the sleep he had been so desperately craving not moments ago. Somehow, he thinks that neither of them want that. Scrambling for something to talk about, Jon replies, “Hang on, isn’t it something like 2am over there?”

“It...might be.”

“Martin!”

“What! It’s not like you have a monopoly on bad sleeping habits. Besides, I was up anyway, and I just..”

“Just what?”

“I just missed your voice.”

Oh. Heat rushes to his cheeks, and tears start to prick at the corners of his eyes, and god. He had missed Martin’s voice too. “Really? I know you’ve had to listen to a fair number of tapes lately, thought you might be sick of it by now.”

“No. I mean, I am a bit tired of tapes, honestly, but even the ones that you recorded, that not really your voice, is it? I mean it is, but it doesn’t sound like you when you’re actually, um, you. I wanted..I wanted to hear you.”

Jon’s far too worn out to deal with that sentiment, and the way that it makes his heart clench. So instead  of addressing it, he says, “I am very close to being asleep.”

“Oh. Right, sorry, I’ll let you go-”

“No! No. Um. Would you mind staying on the line? Until I’m gone? I-I like hearing your voice. As well.”

“Oh! Sure, yeah, definitely. Anything in particular you want me to talk about?”

“Whatever you like. Something nice?”

“All right. I can do that. Um. Did I tell you about this little yarn shop I found the other day. It’s called ‘Puttin’ on the knitz’, and it’s…”

Jon peacefully drifts off, listening to the voice of the man who he can only admit in moments such as these, he wishes was in this bed, laying beside him.

Part 4

please come back please come back for the love of god come back I can’t believe you’re doing this do you have any idea how stupid this is come back to me come back come back come back

Part 5

There is plenty of things to long for in the apocalypse. A decent cuppa. The relief of actual sleep. Murdering Jonah Magnus. For there not to be a apocalypse. They are grateful, however, to not have to long for each other.

Part 6

Martin comes to without a knife in his hand, or bloodstains on his clothing. Those, under other circumstances, would be good things.

Martin comes to, laying in the grass, without anyone beside him. He barely has the moment to feel agony spike through him before he’s out once more.

There are no Jonathan Sims admitted to the hospital. As far as he can tell, no one was admitted into the hospital at the same time as him, and certainly no one with a stab wound.

There are thousands of ‘Jonathan Sims UK’, typed desperately into a library computer search bar, wielding mostly results about a sport manager and a romance novelist. None of the images are of the right person.

Sometimes Martin puts one foot in front of the other, carefully blank in heart and head. Surviving, even  during times that he’s not sure he wants to, is one of his greatest abilities.

Sometimes Martin despairs.

On the worst nights, he tries to call the Lonely back to him, tries to be swallowed whole. It never works. He’s not sure if it’s because the fears aren’t in the reality or if they’re not established enough to have any leverage or if his connection has simply been broken. (He doubts the last reason. He hasn’t been this alone since Tim’s funeral. Even then, Melanie had thrown a few stilted condolences towards him. No one is aware enough of him to give condolences now. He misses Melanie. He misses all of them. He misses Jon like a gaping, bleeding wound misses skin.)

Seven months later, and he has enough money saved and identity built that he moves on to Scotland. The little village they had been adjacent to exists in this reality. Daisy’s cottage does not.

On a whim, he enters the yarn shop. He’s not going to pick anything up, hobbies are the last thing he can focus on, but it’s nice to look. To feel the various textures, to take in the rich variance of colors, to, hopefully be present in his own body, if only for a moment.

Martin steps in. The bell chimes. He’s there. Standing in front of him. Whole. In a cry that’s closer to a gasp, he calls out, “JON!”

Jon turns, looks up at him, recognizes him even before he’s even fully seen him. It’s his Jon, he’s here he’s here he’s here. The callback of “MARTIN!” sounds like it was punched out of him, the start of a sob and a laugh all at once.

In a blink, they’re together, their embrace a tangle of limbs, a collision of lips, a mixture of tears. Martin can’t tell which of them is saying the litany of “thank god thank god thank god” and who’s repeating “it’s you it’s you it’s you.”

It’s Jon that’s telling him, “I knew you had to be here. I knew it, because I kept thinking. Surely. Surely this new universe wouldn’t be so cruel as to allow me to live, but to make me live without you.”

It’s Martin that replies, “I didn’t know. I thought it would be that cruel. Please don’t make me go through that again.”

Jon pulls him in tighter, eliminating the centimeter of space between them. Speaking into Martin’s neck, whispered in fierce devotion, Jon promises, “Never again. Never again. You and me. Together. For the rest of our lives.”

Barely discernible through his sobbing, Martin tells him, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

~*~

There are people that think that wanting is more worthwhile than having. Martin thinks, frankly, that those people have never been in love.

[fallingsunflower]

Can you tell me why you think this is a pr stunt please

Yeah, also I'm sure I'll forget something so @ my anons feel free to add anything. And I'll try to explain this with as little bias as I can (I am incredibly biased because I really don't like Olivia but I'll try to keep my thoughts on her to a minimum).

There's a couple different reasons I think this is a stunt. It's not a simple answer so I'll try to outline it as clearly as I can.

DWD had a rocky start from the beginning, and it only continued throughout filming. Dakota Johnson (a big name) left. Shia (the original lead) either left or was fired. Then there were all the allegations surrounding him. I don't know if he was fired for those allegations or if he quit due to creative differences with Olivia. Either or, his name tarnished the film a little bit. Then covid shut down production for 2 weeks which caused the set millions. There was the second NDA the cast and crew had to sign for unprofessionalism, which I'm sure didn't bode well with Warner Bros. DWD also went two months over schedule, which again cost WB millions. A PR stunt is a common tactic used to draw attention away from negativity.

This is Olivia's second directorial movie, following the box office failure of Booksmart. Booksmart only brought in $25 million (internationally) during it's course in theaters. For reference, Five Feet Apart (a smilier movie that came out the same month) made $99.5 million. Captain Marvel (which came out the same weekend as Booksmart) made $1.128 billion. My guess is Olivia's hoping DWD will do well in the box office because she has some unheard of director deal where she gets half of the box office earnings once the movie breaks even. She probably wants to draw in as much publicity as she can for the money, but also to boost her own image as a female director. She's in her late thirties which is a "condemned" age in Hollywood women because of the industry's sexism. It's hard to get any gigs at that age. She also probably also wants to be the next big thing. There's a lot of reasons why she'd want to bring in publicity to DWD and a stunt is part of that promotion.

Speaking of promotion, Booksmart had major issues with promotion. It wasn't marketed effectively (you can read about it here). The stunt could be another marketing strategy.

DWD also started filming during a very uncertain time due to Covid. At the time, no one had a clue when social distancing or mask wearing would come to an end, or proper movie promo. It doesn't seem impossible that they'd pull some extra strings since at the time, proper movie promo seemed unlikely.

Whether or not the stunt was originally intended for Harry's image, I don't know, but I do think he's riding it out now. It's bringing him in revenue since he's not touring (those pap pictures of him and Olivia probably have sold for an insane amount and him and Olivia get a cut of the check). He also, like Olivia, could be making his salary based off of what the movie makes (so a percentage of it). At the time he was also scheduled to tour (still is) so maybe he knew he wouldn't be at movie promo so he agreed to do the stunt to fulfill his part. Then I also have a theory that Harry got mixed up with something and the stunt is being used as a distraction (but I have absolutely no proof of this - it's just me)

There's also brand promotion. Not sure if that would be included in the original deal or as an add on but it's been shoved down our throats since the beginning and a lot of people don't pay attention to it. There's Gucci from the wedding (which conveniently was Harry's Gucci Beloved campaign). There's Eliou the jewelry brand. There's Bode. Now there's Nike, and it's not the first time Harry's been papped with Nike during this stunt

But even if you choose not to believe all the above things, there's still the very obvious consensus from Harry's fans and most of the GP that something is off with this "Relationship". The timing. The lack of chemistry. The predictable pictures and timeline. Literally every single thing points to it being a PR relationship. Even a verified journalist said she think its PR (on Twitter - I forget the username)

So here's what I think happened/and what's continuing to happen: I think the stunt was part of Harry's deal to join DWD. There have been seeds of "evidence" since the beginning (i.e. Olivia sticking her head at an uncomfortable angle out of her trailer to be seen talking to Harry). I think the wedding pap walk was planned since the beginning also but Olivia wasn't planning to go over schedule with DWD. I think the pap walk was supposed to come after production ended to keep things "professional". But due to their contracts, they probably couldn't back out and needed to go forth with the walk even though they were still filming.

I think there was a 6 month mark for the yacht pics (or PDA pics in general) because I think the movie was slated for a September 2021 release/July 2021 trailer. The timing would make sense - big stunt to draw attention to the movie. But obviously things got shifted around with the pushed back release, most likely WB's decision to give the movie a fighting chance (my guess is it will be released during the "movie dump months" of early 2022). Now I predict either the breakup or another big move right before the actual movie release.

I think Olivia and Harry's teams feed info to fan accounts, gossip blogs and magazines to keep things "organic". This can be sightings or pictures. Ever notice how many of those come from burner accounts? A lot. And I'm sure some of them are real, because after all if Harry and Olivia go out in public together they're going to be spotted.

As for the smoothie shop video, since this needs it's own explanation, the security footage can't just be "leaked". No one has access to it besides security. I don't even think the owners have access. So it wasn't organically "leaked". There's no possible way it way. It's illegal. The only way that footage could have gotten out is if the people in the video requested it, and probably for a pretty penny too. It was released during a content drought so I think it was a staged leak. (The pictures of Harry as Jack were also a staged leak. No one has access to film footage except the director, producers, and editors).

So yeah, that's my thought. I won't be convinced it's real unless they get married or have a child together

And also, just to add, PR stunts are common in the industry. It's not impossible for this to be a stunt. Celebrities will do a lot for fame and money. Harry's seemed to have fallen down that path

[sarahjtv]

BNHA Chapter 309 Spoiler Thoughts: Izuku and Inko Midoriya, and Some More Things Along The Way

The chapter leaks are here again!  Thanks to all the people on Twitter and here on Tumblr for providing us with scans and translations.  This chapter helps explain some things that a lot of us were wondering about.  Sadly, there’s still no Bakugo, or Shoto, or any other UA kids really; they’re only in flashbacks.  But, we do get to see what All Might and the Top 3 Heroes (Endeavor, Hawks, and Best Jeanist) are up to, so that’s something.  Anyway, remember to take what I say with a grain of salt until the official translations come out on Sunday:

The chapter starts a few minutes after Deku beat Muscular.  He’s flying through the air taking an unconscious Muscular tied up in his Black Whip.  The other Ketsubusu Academy students from the Lisence Exam see him too.  Thankfully the stubborn civilians from 2 chapters ago are willing to help Yo Shindo recover in exchange for not listening moving to the school shelters.  Also, Shindo’s barely conscious, but he does actually remember Deku.  He’s just not the same Deku as before.  Not much for me to say here except that I wonder if Shindo’s going to help spread the word about Deku’s actions.  Not just to his classmates, but I wonder if the words’ going to get out to the news and UA.  Actually, word might not even get that far since Shindo was only one of the few people in that exam that really even interacted with Deku...

Deku hands Muscular over to the police for them to take care off.  He also makes sure to cover himself up in Smokescreen to hide his identity.  So, Deku really is working in the shadows here.  It is best that the public doesn’t know what Deku is doing so that the LoV don’t track him down.  My man’s really going down the Batman route.  Oh, I also have to admire Deku’s smartphone here kept in this steel case.  I was going to say it’s a burner phone, but burner phones break easily for a reason and this one clearly doesn’t.  Maybe it’s a special one that can’t be tracked down.    

And we finally get to see All Might again!  He is actively working with Deku instead of just not knowing where his protege is.  He’s wearing casual clothes (jacket, jeans, sunglasses, the works) when he meets up with Deku in an alleyway.  I’m honestly glad that All Might is still supervising Deku.  I mean, Deku on his own would’ve been badass, but when you’re going up against people like AFO and Shigaraki, you’re going to need some help.  Especially when laying low.  Even with supervision, I still think Deku counts as a vigilante b/c I don’t think his license works if he’s not at UA.  I will believe this unless proven otherwise.  

It’s explained that the “wrapping” on Deku’s arms are actually gauntlets called “Mid-Gauntlets”, which are what are helping hold Deku’s arms together.  And they are VERY similar to the gauntlets that Melissa Shield from Two Heroes gave Deku.  Deku even says that All Might ordered them from the USA before travel restrictions were put in place.  I know that it’s only implied, but there’s no doubt in my mind that Deku’s new gauntlets were made by Melissa.  Even if you want to doubt it, at this point, Two Heroes (and by extension Heroes Rising and probably the upcoming 3rd movie, World Heroes Mission) are canon.  Honestly, I’m cool with it.  I liked Melissa and I’m glad her presence is still around (she was even in a Team-Up Mission chapter with Hatsume).  I do wonder if we’re ever going to see her in the main story.  It would be nice to see Melissa again.

The gauntlets are test samples and are used to enhance endurance.  All Might says that they can’t withstand 100% of OFA yet.  Which means that Deku actually beat Muscular with less than 100% unlike their first fight where Deku had to use over 100% just to knock him out.  So, does this mean that, say, Deku’s current 45% is stronger than his 100+% back in the Forest Camp?  Or maybe it was just the combo of moves and strategy rather then Deku just punching his way through things.

Small detail, but All Might’s phone goes off with that “I AM HERE” ringtone we heard before and Deku comments that this particular one is from All Might’s Silver Age TV Special!  It’s such a small thing, but I love that Deku still has that All Might fanboy in him despite everything 💚!  Somethings truly never change.

And back to the Top 3: Endeavor, Hawks, and Best Jeanist!  Endeavor and Best Jeanist are teaming up to kick a villain’s ass while Hawks is talking to All Might on the phone.  It looks like Hawks got a few costume changes particularly his visor/glasses which look more boxy than they did before if that makes sense.  Oh, and they’re also helping All Might work with Deku.  Makes sense since all three vowed to help take down Dabi earlier and Shigaraki and AFO definitely extend from that.

Deku’s Danger Sense is going off, so he’s probably going to check out any danger he can find in case it’s the LoV.  I do wonder if that harms Deku still.  It was said that it felt like a stabbing in his head and it must’ve been bad enough for the 4th OFA Holder to live in the forest away from society.  Man, I really hope our boy is ok (I know he’s not really, let me have this).

But yeah, Hawks (still wingless, but with a nice little undercut btw😳) explains that Deku's afraid of dragging other people in his battles like All Might.  Hawks also goes on to say that it’s best to take the initiative in taking down AFO and Shigaraki rather than waiting for them to appear all powered up.  He also wants All Might to keep supporting him despite the difficult position he’s in (remember that All Might’s technically Qurikless again and can’t really fight on his own).  It makes sense for them to go after the Villains again while they can.  If Deku fought Shigaraki while Shigaraki was at full strength, Deku would lose easily.  Even at 75%, Shigaraki was able to kill and injure A LOT of people, and Deku was lucky to even make it out there alive.  They need to find Shigaraki SOON!  

Flashback to Central Hospital before Deku jumped UA ship!  Recover Girl and Central Hospital’s high-tech were responsible for many of the patience recovering quickly and being discarged.  Deku was just there a little longer than the others.  So, we can assume that all our UA kids and some notable heroes made it out alive after being treated.  Still don’t know what happened to some people like Tamaki and Fat Gum tho 😭.  

All Might and Deku’s mom, Inko (thank god she’s ok), are by Deku’s bedside as his casts are taken off.  Deku’s doctor (who looks like Super Mario/Luigi; the whole Super Mario crew must run this damn place.  Where’s Bowser and Princess Peach) explains that despite his former warnings about his ligaments, Deku’s limbs are still functioning because he’s not the same as he was before.  So, before, Deku’s injuries were like his limbs were exploding from the inside, but this time those “explosions” were able to escape his body.  Also his Black Whip cast helped keep Deku’s arm in tact so that he wouldn’t pulverize himself.  His ligimates are still degrading too, so Deku still has to be careful.  I think he might have a few more small scars too, but that could just be shadows or muscle lining from Horikoshi’s pen-work.  

Ok, honestly, I’m not sure how this logically works...  I’m no medical professional, but I assume this means that Deku’s built his body up so much that it’s naturally able to withstand more damage than before and that’s why he’s more durable.  But, I don’t know how Deku was able to let the “explosions” escape this time.  I get the reverse; I get how he got injured before, but I don’t get this.  Was it the Black Whip brace he made for himself?  I honestly don’t really understand this.  Maybe the official translations will clear this up.  Or Horikoshi will in a Tweet or Volume Extra.

And Inko is finally informed of OFA thank the gods!  She was in the top of my list of “People who should really, really know OFA and what’s going on with Deku because I swear...”.  She’s clearly shaken up as anyone would be, but I’m glad she at least knows what’s going on with her son.  Yes, she’s still worried, but at least she can stop guessing why all this is happening.  

Deku announces the reason why he won’t go back to UA and it’s basically that Shigaraki can sense where Deku is and he doesn’t want to see anyone else close to him get hurt and/or die.  So, basically what I thought would be the reason.  Absolutely no surprise there.  But, going after Shigaraki and AFO first was originally Deku’s idea, so that’s something new.  Kid’s bold.

And this broke my heart 💔!  Inko insists that Deku stay with her to stay safe, but Deku knows what he has to do.  So, he thanks his mom, thanks her for making him happy, and tells her that he’ll be ok and that he’ll come back home with a somber smile on his face.  We see a flashback to Little Deku and Inko too when they were happier.  Bro, I don’t even know what to say.  I am in tears just writing this 😭  I’ll just post these two panels so y’all can cry with me.  I will never recover from this.  I’m fucking devastated.  You better come home, Deku: 

*sniffs* All Might remembers what he said to Inko.  He remembers how he said that he will protect Deku with his life.  All Might encourages Deku to go and he says that he’ll go with him with tears in his eyes.  He asks the Top 3 to help with this mission (finding Dabi) as their own mission coincides with Deku’s (finding Shigaraki and AFO).  I’m so glad all these adults are staying by Deku’s side throughout this.  It’s good to know that Deku still has support, though I wish it were from some of his friends too.  Maybe one day.

Deku goes to see Grand Torino in his hospital room to talk to him about OFA.  He mentions his friend and 7th Holder Nana Shimura.  Torino thinks he was responsible for killing Shigaraki (he really wasn’t let's be real).  He also tells Deku that Deku shouldn’t be so persistent in saving Shigaraki as killing can sometimes lead to salvation. Ok, few things:

1. I am surprised Grand Tarino is still alive.  I mean, we don’t know what happened to him after this talk, but at least he got to hear from Deku again.  It’s kind of nice to know that Tarino willingly passed down his cape to Deku too instead of Deku just taking it after his death.  Also, I’ve been watching some of Jujutsu Kaisen like everyone else has and this give me some Yuji & his grandfather vibes to it.  Knowing what happens there and that JJK’s magaka is good friends with Horikoshi, I have a sinking feeling I know what happened after this talk...

2. Deku looks so much older here.  Like, it’s not that cute, innocent baby face we knew at the beginning.  I don’t even know what it is exactly (maybe the eyes), but he just looks more mature here.  Also, his uniform some buttons down looks really good on him, I’m sorry but I need to mention that too 💚.

3. “Killing is a means towards salvation”.  Oh, boy...  I mean, I get it.  Some people just can’t be saved or captured in hopes of rehabilitation/redemption.  Sometimes killing people is necessary to save others.  But, Deku is not a killer.  He will try to save Shigaraki no matter what.  That was established again last chapter.   He tried to save Muscular for god’s sake.  But, I am curious if Gran Tarino’s words are going to hold any weight in the final fight. Like, will Deku have to kill Shigaraki?  What will that do to Deku as a person?  I’m really curious if Horikoshi is going to make Deku do this.

And finally, there’s a page showing off the Top 3, Deku, and All Might team up with the resolve to beat the LoV.  I am really interested to see where this goes.  Deku is working with the big Pro Heroes instead of his classmates/friends.  This hasn’t really happened before.  I also wonder if Shoto and Bakugo know what Deku’s doing then.  Because Shoto’s going to help Endeavor and his family find Dabi.  Endeavor’s activley helping Deku.  Also, Endeavor and Best Jeanist are both Bakugo’s mentors.  All Might too actually.  Look, maybe I’m making excuses to see my Origin Trio together again, but I do have to wonder if Shoto and Bakugo are involved somehow.

Welp, that’s it.  This chapter was a rollercoaster!  I was excited, I was confused, I was worried, I cried my eyes out at one point because THOSE TWO PANELS I CANNOT 💔😭!  I’m honestly just waiting for Horokishi to drop some major time-skip on us at some point.  I don’t want him to, but I won’t be entirely surprised if he does.  The end of this chapter is a good place to end if Horikoshi wants to segway into something else like, oh IDK, THE UA KIDS LET ME SEE THEM AGAIN HORIKOSHI PLS I’M BEGGING 💸  

Me @ Horikoshi almost every week:

[study-coffee-chicago]

Contract Killer (A Halstead brothers + Halstead! sister + Hailey Upton imagine)

Very, very loosely based off of season 2 ep 3 of PD titled "The Weigh Station".

What if Hailey's story meeting Jay is a little different? And it's all because of one big bad decision and seeing Y/N.

Hailey looked through her binoculars at the man who, if she could help it, would be dead within 48 hours. She could make it 24 if she really wanted to, but she needed to make sure she was alone and that she had time to get it to whoever needed to see him dead. Even though she was the one tasked with killing him, she had no idea who actually put the bounty out on his head. Someone she had put in prison (ironically, the reason they were in prison was for being a contract killer) when she worked in robbery-homicide had called her once they were out and told her about this opportunity. And, since Hailey had been fired from her job for a rumor that went around that she was sleeping with a superior officer and didn't actually pass the detective's exam (both were lies), she needed money, so she agreed to the hit.

A girl walked out of the house, surprising her. She looked too young to be one of Halstead's flings. She looked between 15 and 20 from where she was looking. Maybe she just had a babyface, though. Yeah, definitely just a babyface.

The girl walked outside and to her car with a backpack. She was starting her car when Jay Halstead ran out of the house and handed her what Hailey assumed was a textbook.

Shit, she thought, this girl's in high school or college, so it definitely wasn't a fling or a one night stand. If this was a younger sibling or relative that he was taking care of, then there was no way she was going through with this. When people were helping out their younger family members, well, that's where Hailey drew the line. She knew that Jay had an older brother, Will, but he was a doctor and could take care of himself. If Halstead had a younger sister that was still dependent on him financially or otherwise, well then there was no way she could do this.

Hailey pulled out her burner phone and called the burner number that was given to her in case she needed more information or she encountered any problems.

"JP," she started, "does Halstead have any siblings besides Will? There's a girl at his house and she looks too young to be sleeping with him."

She heard keys clacking on the other end. It took longer than she had expected. "Shit," JP said. "He's got a younger sister, Y/N Halstead. She's twenty and according to this, she lives with him since their parents are dead and she's in college. Need me to hand this off to someone else?"

"Yeah, you know I only did this for the money and my one drawback is people who are dependent on the people you want me to kill."

"What do you know about this guy?" JP asked. He assumed she didn't know much about him.

"They just told me that he was an ex-army ranger who killed innocent civilians in Afghanistan."

"God, they lied to you so hard, Upton," JP told her. "He's a detective with the Intelligence Unit of the CPD. And, he saved people overseas, he didn't kill them."

"Shit. I'm out. I'm definitely out."

Then, she hung up. But, she promised herself that he'd try her best to protect him. After all, she had taken this job, so maybe she could fix it by trying to protect him. She wasn't doing it for him, though. She was only doing it for his little sister. If it were just him, he'd be dead in less than two days.

***

You poured syrup on your waffles at the small diner you and your brothers had gone out to. It was a rare night where you didn't have any major studying to do, Will wasn't working or on call, and Jay wasn't working on a case or undercover, so you were all out for dinner together.

"How's school?" Will asked.

"You know, the usual. Homework, tests, papers," you answered.

"That's code for she constantly complains about how much homework she has, but does it anyway," Jay joked.

"At least I have less school than him," you said, pointing at Will. "And, I'll still get the doctor title."

You wanted to be a sports psychologist, which required a doctorate degree. So, instead of there just being one doctor in your family, there'd be two.

"And you're crazy to think that I'll address as Dr. Halstead."

"Hey, at least it's not a medical doctor," you pointed out, knowing Jay's hatred for needles and hospitals in general.

"But a shrink might be even worse, Jay. She'll be able to see through your shitty I'm fine excuses for how you're feeling mentally after you take yet another bullet."

"You've used up how many of your nine lives now? Four? Five?" you laughed.

"One day he'll realize he isn't invincible," Will said, agreeing with you.

Hailey was watching from afar when she saw a man in a black hoodie enter the diner. She didn't think anything of it, but in hindsight, she wishes she would have been able to look a little closer.

You heard a Pop! and then you were roughly pushed off your stool by Jay and onto the ground, all while hearing him yell.

"Get down! Get down!"

The shots continued and you screamed from underneath your brother.

"You're okay, you're covered," Jay told you.

And then, silence. The shots had stopped.

Slowly, Jay looked up, making sure the shooter was in fact gone.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he got up.

Before you could even answer him, Will was next to you, looking you over in a way that only a trained medical professional would.

"Did we- did we just get shot at?"

"We did," Jay answered. "But, we're gonna get out of here. I'm gonna call Voight and we're gonna figure this out. Did I hurt you at all when I pushed you off that stool?"

"No."

"Stay with Will."

And you did just that while Jay went off to call his unit.

Meanwhile, Hailey watched as squad cars pulled up a few minutes later. From the side of their cars, Hailey saw that Jay's unit was in the 21st district. Now whoever got hired to do the hit wasn't just going after Jay, he was going after his family. And, that's where Hailey drew the line. She knew where she'd be going tomorrow morning.

***

"Sergeant Platt," Hailey said as she walked into the 21st district of Chicago at promptly 8 o'clock the next morning.

"Goldilocks! What can I do for you?" Platt always had a soft spot for the young detective (hence the nickname) since she had responded to a call at her father's restaurant when Hailey was a kid and she was working the beat. And, they had kept in contact ever since. Platt may or may not have been the reason that Hailey got into the academy on her first try.

"I need to talk to you." Hailey looked around, and seeing a bunch of patrol officers, she decided this might not be the best place. "Alone. Somewhere preferably without cameras."

Platt gave Hailey a confused look but led her downstairs anyway. "What's going on?"

"So, I may or may not have taken a job to kill Jay Halstead, but--"

"Wait, wait, wait. I think my hearing is going. Did you just say you took a job to kill detective Halstead?"

"I said I may or may not have, but it's closer to may have."

"Jesus Christ, Hailey, I know you got fired, but why?" Platt asked, stunned.

"Before you tell anyone, once I learned he had a sister, I backed out. But, I needed money and I got terrible information because whoever wanted this hit said that he killed innocent civilians when he was overseas. So, excuse me for trying to rid the world of someone who I thought was the scum of the earth."

"So, you didn't even take one shot at him?" she asked, trying to figure out how she could keep Hailey out of trouble.

"Not even one."

"Please tell me you have useful information because I have to hand this over to Voight...and he will not hesitate to put you away if you have nothing useful."

"I have a name, but he won't get it unless my name isn't even mentioned with this case. And, I want to help. After all, it is kind of my fault this started in the first place."

"You are so lucky Voight owes me a favor, Goldilocks."

***

Hailey was currently sitting in Voight's office with Platt next to her. Platt had explained the whole thing to him, but Voight still wanted to talk to her. He had one more proposition.

"Since there's no evidence tying you to the shooting, I can't press charges anyway. Do you know who happened to have shot at Halstead and his family last night?" Voight asked, all of his anger was gone by now because he had used it up when Trudy Platt first came to him.

"I was there watching, just to make sure nothing happened. But, I didn't get a good look at his face. And, he reached into his pocket so fast and I was so far away that I didn't realize it was a gun. If I had known, I wouldn't have hesitated to try and stop him." Voight nodded. "All I saw was that the shooter was wearing a black hoodie. Sorry I don't have more."

"Okay, Upton, here's the deal," Voight started, "I need a name and I need someone to watch over Halstead and his sister during this, make sure his sister doesn't go out anywhere alone, and that Halstead doesn't do anything stupid. You can do those two things, and I'll leave your name out of this and you can work the case. You have my word."

"So, you want me to be their bodyguard?" Hailey asked, cocking one eyebrow.

"If you want to put it that way, yeah. Only certain times when we're short patrolman or it's nighttime because I know a lot of them sleep when they're supposed to be paying attention."

"Okay, I'm in. The name's JP."

"Any phone number? Other important personal information?" Voight asked.

"I called a burner last time I talked to him, but I doubt he's still using it. I can still give it to you if you want it though." Voight handed her a sticky note and a pen from his desk and Hailey quickly scribbled down the number and handed it back to him. "As for personal information, I know he has a son. I don't know his exact age, but I know he's at least 18."

"Good to know," Voight nodded. "Thanks, Trudy," she turned to leave, but Voight stopped her. "Can you send Halstead in? Need him to meet his new protection detail."

"Platt said you needed me, Sarge?" Jay asked as he entered Voight's office, closing the door behind him.

"Yes, Halstead, take a seat. Upton, you too," he added, seeing as Hailey was still standing.

Jay furrowed an eyebrow as he saw the new blond detective. She was short, had wavy blond hair, and was wearing jeans and a blue flannel, which she wore with the sleeves buttoned up to just below her elbows.

"Am I getting a new partner?" Jay asked.

"Something like that. Meet your new protection detail, Jay. This is detective Hailey Upton."

"Sarge, no offense, but I don't need protecting. If this is about the person who shot at me last night, I can handle it." He wouldn't admit it, but he didn't want a girl as his personal bodyguard. He'd dealt with partner problems in the past with Erin, and now that she was gone, he didn't want another workplace romance. And, he was more than capable of defending himself. Also, he wouldn't say this out loud, but if someone tried to come after him, he had doubts that she'd be able to protect them both, just because of her small stature.

"It's not you that I'm worried about. It's Y/N," Voight stated.

"Oh, yeah, of course." He wasn't going to lie, after last night he didn't want his sister going out alone either. Despite you being in college, he still worried about you.

"She'll only be there at night, just in case you get called on a case. That way, Y/N won't be alone."

"Is that really necessary? Every night until this gets figured out? Will can stay with her, he's got a permit to carry. So, the only time she really needs to be over there is when he's on a night shift at Med."

"Your- Will," Hailey quickly stopped herself, before she let Jay know that she knew that Will was his older brother, "Will's not a cop, is he?"

"No. My brother's a doctor. Why does that matter anyway?" Jay asked, annoyance in his voice.

"Because I'm pretty sure that I'm a better shot than he is."

"Another reason is that, if someone is really watching you, they won't think twice about Hailey being there," Voight said.

"What?"

"Think about it, Halstead. If a random guy is at your house all the time, whoever's watching will know someone's protecting you. But, if it's a girl, they won't think that."

Jay turned his head, digesting what his sergeant had just told him. "Wait, wait, wait, you want her to pretend to be my girlfriend? You want us off pretending to play house while my life, Will's life, and Y/N's life are in danger?" Jay was raising his voice at this point, and it kind of scared Hailey, but she remained calm on the outside.

At this, Voight slammed his hands on his desk. And, Jay didn't miss how Hailey jumped at the sudden action but quickly regained her composure. "Dammit, Halstead! She's staying with you and that's final! There will be a patrol car parked outside your and Will's houses at all times. But, I can't risk patrol falling asleep at your house at night, so Upton's staying with you. End of discussion." He looked at both detectives. "You're dismissed."

"I'm gonna go pack a bag," Hailey broke the uncomfortable silence between the two. "Be at your house tonight at 6?"

"Yeah. Here's my address." He wrote his address down and handed it to her. God, he had some explaining to do.

***

Hailey quickly scribbled a note to her boyfriend, thanking God that he wasn't home from work yet before she had to leave.

Going undercover. Don't try to call my phone. Don't want a repeat from last time. Idk how long this job will be.

~Hailey.

One time when she was undercover, she didn't have time to go home and grab her things; they just threw her right in with a robbery crew in hopes that they could bust them. They did, but not before her boyfriend, Zach, came looking for her and almost blew her cover. When they talked about it afterward, he said that he thought she was cheating on him, so he went to find her.

That should have been her first red flag.

Hailey shook her head at the memories and left their barely furnished apartment. After putting the address into her phone, she started the drive to the Halsteads.

***

When she got there, she knocked and was met with the one and only Y/N Halstead.

"Can I help you?" you asked, seeing a girl you didn't know with a duffle bag slung over her shoulder.

"I'm a friend of Jay's. Can I come in?"

"Uh, sure." You stepped out of the doorway to allow this mystery girl to come in. "Jay!" you yelled to your brother who was currently in the kitchen with Will. "Your friend's here!"

Jay walked into the living room, followed by Will, to see both you and Hailey. "I wouldn't necessarily call her a friend," Jay stated.

"Well, then your fuck buddy's here."

Will smacked you upside the head before Jay could even scold you for doing that. "Y/N, just go upstairs to your room for a bit to cool down," Will told you.

"I don't need to cool down," you argued.

"You sure as hell do," Jay told you. "Go upstairs. Now."

And that was the voice that scared you the most: Jay's stern, do what I say or else voice, which had you turning on your heels and almost jogging upstairs to your room.

Jay, Hailey, and Will made their way to the kitchen where Jay had been making pasta before Hailey arrived.

"Is she always like this?" Hailey asked, just now realizing what she had gotten herself into.

"Not typically," Will answered. "It's just that, after last night..." he trailed off, not wanting to say what actually happened in case Hailey didn't know or couldn't know.

"She knows," Jay said. "She's actually here to make sure Y/N's never alone through all of this so nothing like last night happens again."

"Oh, wow. Okay. Does she know that?"

"I was gonna tell her before she went off the rails like that," Jay answered his older brother. He turned back to Hailey. "I'm sorry about her, really. After last night, she's kinda pissed at me for putting her in danger like that."

Hailey furrowed her eyebrows, wondering if that was actually the truth. "You mind if I go talk to her?" She knew she might have been overstepping, after all, she had just met you, but she knew it was better than either one of your brothers talking to you.

"I guess it couldn't hurt," Jay agreed. "I'll show you your room too since it's right next to hers."

Hailey nodded and the three of them walked upstairs. They showed Hailey to the guest room, where she set her bag on the bed. It was a normal-sized bedroom, with a bed, a dresser, and a tv atop the dresser.

They walked next door to your room, and Hailey knocked on your door. "Hey, Y/N? It's Hailey. Can I come in please?"

"Are my brothers with you?" you asked as you slumped against your bed, tears of embarrassment rolling down your face.

Hailey tilted her head towards the stairs, silently telling the two boys to go back downstairs. To her surprise, they both actually listened.

"No, it's just me," Hailey confirmed.

"It's open." Hailey walked over to you, but not before you started apologizing. "I'm really sorry. It's just, a lot of things happened last night and I don't know how to feel and I just took all my emotions out on you. I'm really sorry," you told her, barely pausing for breath during your explanation.

"Hey, it's okay. Lots of emotions come out when you get shot at...especially when loved ones are in the picture," Hailey reassured you.

"How did you know about that?" It's not like you had seen her around here before, so she wasn't enough in the loop that Jay or Will would tell her. She wasn't in Intelligence. She wasn't one of the responding officers from the scene last night. And, she wasn't a customer at the diner at the time of the shooting.

"That's actually why I'm here. I'm essentially your bodyguard."

"Wow, didn't know I was special enough to have a bodyguard. Are you a cop?" Hailey nodded. "Can I see your badge?" That was one thing Jay had drilled into you: always ask a cop to see their badge.

Hailey handed you her badge and you quickly studied it, seeing it wasn't just a regular badge, but rather a detective's badge. "You're a detective?"

"Yeah, just like your brother," Hailey answered.

"So, do you know how long you're gonna be here for?" you asked, wondering how long another girl would be in the house. And, you didn't mind it, you liked her already, despite how rude you had been to her just fifteen minutes ago.

"As long as the case takes," she answered. "Now, are you good to go downstairs, or do you need some more time alone?"

"I'll be down there in a minute," you answered. "I just need to wash my face really quick."

A few minutes later, you walked downstairs to be met with Jay, Will, and Hailey all sitting at the table, plates full of pasta.

"Is that fettuccine alfredo?" you asked, looking at Jay. It had been your favorite dinner since the first time you went to Olive Garden when you were eight. And, after your mom died and your dad just kinda gave up as a parent, Jay took it upon himself to make sure that he made it for your birthday or any other special occasions you were involved in, such as your high school graduation.

"Figured you could use a pick me up after everything that happened last night," Jay answered.

"Thanks. And, I'm really sorry about earlier."

"I thought I raised you better than that," Will joked.

"You raised her?" Jay asked rhetorically. "I'm sorry, who is she living with right now? Who stepped up when someone was off partying in New York and feeling up girls?"

You almost choked on your pasta at Jay's description of plastic surgery. "First of all, they're called breast implants," Will pointed out. "Second of all, I cleaned up my act...eventually."

"Okay, let me answer this," you butted in. "Mom and Dad basically raised me, but you both helped me out when I was still a minor. There, problem solved."

"Fair enough, " Jay conceded. "But one last question: who taught you how to drive?"

"You."

"Which explains why she went into a ditch the first time she drove by herself in the snow and why she's always adding at least five miles to the speed limit," Will argued.

"Oh, shut up, Will. You drive like an old grandpa. I'm surprised you make it to work on time."

"Enough about us," Will started, turning to Hailey. "Tell us about yourself."

"Not much to tell. Born and raised in Chicago, used to be a detective for robbery-homicide until something, uh, popped off. And, now here I am," Hailey answered, easily avoiding saying that she was fired.

"Did you always wanna be a cop?" you asked.

"I guess I did. Someone broke into my dad's restaurant when I was a kid and I met the most badass female cop and from then on, I wanted to be like her. My dad wanted me to be a lawyer, but I thought that was boring, so here I am."

You nodded, thinking that it wouldn't be as fun to be a lawyer.

"Oh, before I forget," Jay began, "Y/N, as of tomorrow, all of your classes are switched to online."

"Okay."

"You're not mad about that?" Will asked.

"Oh hell no. Half the time I don't even get anything out of my lectures anyway. It just feels like time that could be spent doing homework for that class."

The four of you went back to your food, eating in comfortable silence. But, after a few minutes, you realized that you still had one more question.

"So, where am I going tomorrow? Am I staying here with Hailey or...?" you trailed off, secretly hoping you'd get to spend your days with the new detective. It was just nice to have someone with estrogen around the house instead of the amount of testosterone that was your brothers.

"Since Hailey's helping us work the case, you'll come to the district with me so that Hailey has time to sleep." That wasn't the real reason. There was a patrol car most of the time, but if they were short patrolman, Jay wanted to make sure that you'd be safe. And, the best way to do that would be for you to be in a building full of cops.

"Why can't I go to Med with Will?" you whined. Jay gave you a look that read you know why. "What? All I'm saying is the hospital has better vending machines than the district. But, I mean the district has better wifi, so there's that plus I guess."

"And you don't have to see Will's ugly mug all day," Jay joked.

"Hey! I'll have you know some women think I'm handsome."

"What women? Blind ones?"

And that's how the rest of the evening went, you all getting to know Hailey better and Hailey getting to know you all better.

***

You laid awake in bed, replaying the events of the day. You could see from the crack at the bottom of the door that there was a dim light coming from the hallway, so you assumed Hailey was still awake. Since Jay typically woke up at 5 due to his training in the military, they had agreed that Hailey would go to sleep at the time that he woke up and then would meet them at the district to work the case early in the afternoon. That way, she could still get some sleep and you'd still be safe during the hours that most criminal activity occurs. Despite this, you still couldn't sleep. It wasn't that you were scared, it was just that you felt terrible and knew that Jay deserved a better explanation as to why you lashed out earlier.

You got out of bed and quietly walked across the hallway, trying to be as quiet as possible so Hailey didn't run out of her room, gun drawn, thinking that you were an intruder. You opened Jay's bedroom door just a crack when you heard the tv playing in the background. Seeing that he was still awake, you walked in.

"Hey."

"Hey, what's up?" Jay asked, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie that was currently playing.

"I'm sorry about earlier, with the fuck buddy comment."

"You already apologized. Is there something you're not telling me?"

You moved to sit on the edge of his bed so that you were facing him. "It's just, yesterday when we were shot at, it made me realize how you could be gone so fast. I guess the reason I lashed out is that I was sad and scared."

Even in the dim light from the tv, you could see how much your words had affected Jay. "It's okay to be scared, Y/N. But just know that I have the best unit in the whole city that's got my back okay?"

"But they didn't yesterday and that's the scary part." You felt tears prick your eyes and knew that there was no point in holding them back, so you just let them roll down your cheeks. "If someone you put away gets out of prison and then wants revenge, they can come up to you and get you anytime, Jay. I- Me and Will thought we lost you when you got shot the last time. We can't go through that again. Because next time, you might- you might not make it. And, I need my big brother."

Jay sighed, trying to convince himself not to cry. You had never really talked about the night that he got shot trying to help Angela, and he'd be lying if it didn't worry both him and Will about how much you were bottling up those feelings. He thought you had gotten over it, hell he thought he had gotten over it, but last night had brought up those old fears for you.

Gently, Jay placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Hey, I need my little sister, too. I don't think Will can be as intimidating as me when it comes to boys either, so you need me." Despite your tears, your lips turned up into a slight smile at Jay trying to make light of the situation at hand. "And, I will always try my best to come home to you and Will. Always. And, you don't need to worry about me, because you'll be stuck with me at the district until we figure this out."

"Voight put you on desk duty?"

"I'm not thrilled, but he made the right call."

"Yeah, he did. And, you should talk to Hailey. She seems like your type."

***

When Hailey woke up the next day, she was surprised to look in the fridge to find a Tupperware container and a mug, stuck to both was a sticky note with her name on it.

Hailey, made extra for breakfast. There's eggs and bacon in here.

~Jay

And on the mug, he wrote:

Didn't know how you like your coffee, and I had some leftover in the pot this morning before I washed it, so it's yours. There's milk and creamer in the fridge and sugar in the cabinet to the left of the stove.

~Also Jay

Hailey smiled at his little notes and then put the food in the microwave. "Not bad," she said to herself after she took the first few bites. Then, she heated up the coffee and drank it as is...she liked black coffee, so she didn't bother with creamer or milk.

She started to get ready and then pulled out her phone. Y/N was probably bored at the district, so she figured she could grab her some good coffee on her way in. If the coffee at Intelligence was the same as the kind at robbery-homicide, she was sure that a twenty-year-old wouldn't like it.

You were sitting at the table in the breakroom when your phone buzzed, alerting you that you had a text message. Hailey had said it was her and asked what coffee you liked and mentioned Starbucks. So, you told her a vanilla sweet cream cold brew would be great and thanked her and also offered to give her five bucks when she got to the district. But, she told you she'd get it.

You went to rummage around in your backpack for a different notebook when Jay walked in. "How's it goin'?" he asked as he walked over to the coffee pot and poured himself more coffee.

"I don't know how you drink that stuff. The kind here is gross."

Jay shrugged, "Eh, you get used to it after a while."

"I guess," you agreed, grabbing your notebook but not zipping up your backpack.

"What are you working on now?"

"I have to watch some boring ass sociology lectures," you answered, opening your laptop.

"Ew," he took a seat next to you and started drinking his coffee, but not without knocking over your backpack. "No way," he said as he repositioned your bag and reached into it.

"What?" When you saw his hand in your backpack, you tried to grab it back, but he already had his hand wrapped around the object that you wanted to stay hidden. "Give her back!" you shouted as Jay ran out of the room with your stuffed cat in his hand.

You had brought your stuffed animal with you in case you had gotten stuck at the district overnight. Who knows, Hailey and Jay could be out working a case and you wouldn't have been able to go home. So, as a way of making yourself feel secure, you had put your stuffed animal, whom you affectionately named Kitty as you were three years old when it was gifted to you, in the bottom of your backpack. That way, if you had to sleep on the couch in the breakroom, you could tuck it away between the back of the couch and you, so that no one could see that you still slept with a stuffed animal.

"Jay!" you yelled, chasing after him, "Give it back!"

"Never!" he yelled back, running into an interrogation room. You followed him, hoping that he forgot to lock the door.

But, you were both lucky and unlucky as Jay was currently standing with his back to the door, keeping it closed despite how hard you pushed. You heard footsteps walking up the stairs into the bullpen, and he still wasn't budging. "Jay, someone's coming! Please!" you begged, not wanting the entire unit to know that you still slept with a stuffed animal.

You heard laughing from him on the other side of the door. "Give it back!" you tried again, fists pounding on the door.

"Give what back?"

"You know what!"

"No, I don't. What do I have that you want, Y/N?"

"Kitty. Now C'mon Jay!" You heard footsteps coming down the hall where the interrogation rooms were. God, you hoped it wasn't Ruzek; he'd never let you live this one down.

"You'll have to be more specific than that." Even though you could only hear him, you knew he was smirking on the other side of that door.

"Give me Kitty, my stuffed animal, Jay!"

"There it is." He opened the door just as you saw Hailey approaching the both of you. He quickly handed you back your stuffed animal and you hid it behind your back.

"Was that a toy?" Hailey asked, holding your coffee.

"Y/N sleeps with a--" you elbowed your brother in the stomach, and he groaned, which shut him up.

Then, you heard more voices. This wasn't good. You didn't have a jacket on, so had no way of hiding it on your way back to the breakroom. "Jay, I think they need you," Hailey said.

"And you got coffee for who?" he asked her.

"Y/N. Now go. They have to get you up to speed."

"They'll have to get you up to speed, too," he argued. "You just got here."

"Just tell them I'll be there in a minute."

Jay walked away, a smirk still plastered on his face because of how embarrassed he made you. When he was for sure out of earshot, Hailey held out her hand. "Give it to me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," you denied.

"The stuffed animal, Y/N. I'll hide it in my jacket on our way back to the breakroom and then you can hide it from there. I grew up with three older brothers, so I know how it is."

You handed it over to her and she placed it in her jacket, then you walked to the breakroom, but not without glaring at your brother on your way there. Once it was securely stashed in your backpack and you tried to give Hailey money for the coffee, but she refused as she had told you she'd do, only then did Hailey leave you alone in the breakroom to be with the rest of the unit.

"That was mean," Hailey whispered to Jay when she was in the bullpen.

"Something wrong?" Voight asked, looking at the two detectives.

"No, what do we got so far?" Jay asked, turning his attention to Voight.

Voight stuck a picture on the board, causing Hailey to swallow. It was JP.

"This scumbag is JP." Hailey wanted to say he wasn't as much of a scumbag as they probably thought, but since he associated with her boyfriend, Zach, and knew what happened in that apartment and didn't say anything, he was still sort of a scumbag. But, then again, Hailey hadn't talked about what happened in that apartment either, so maybe she was a scumbag for keeping Zach safe. But, he swore he had cut ties with Zach, so who knows what he'd do to keep himself out of jail. "CI said that he might know some information about who wanted the hit. Swears it wasn't JP, that he was just the person hiring."

Great, so she was a CI now, Hailey thought to herself.

"So we just get him to give up the guy who wants the hit done?" Ruzek suggested. "Simple enough."

"Not when he's not talking," Voight said. "He hasn't given us a single thing. But, we can hold him for 48 hours on conspiracy, so hopefully, he'll give something up or whoever wanted the hit will get sloppy within that time."

Hailey knew that JP wouldn't crack, so her only hope was that whoever wanted the hit would get sloppy.

***

"We have five more hours or this son of a bitch gets cut loose. So, do whatever you gotta do," Voight told his unit almost two days later. It had been 43 hours since they had arrested JP and so far all they had learned was that his real name was Joe Price. He wasn't talking and they were running out of time. "Upton, a quick word?"

Hailey followed Voight to his office and she closed the door behind them. "You mentioned JP's got a son who's at least 18. Anything you think we could use as leverage? Because at the moment, he ain't talkin'."

Hailey thought for a moment. "He mentioned once that his son was going to apply for the TSA, but couldn't get in because of a misdemeanor I think."

Voight nodded, thinking. "Maybe he'll flip if I get the charges sealed." Then, they left his office and he made his way to the interrogation room.

"We know about your son, JP," Voight said as he entered the room where Jay and Kevin were currently trying to get him to spill information, even though trying was useless at this point.

At this, JP lifted his eyes to meet the sergeant's. "What's there to know?" he asked bitterly.

"We know that he applied for TSA but can't get in."

"Yeah, because of this pissant obstruction charge from when he was eighteen. But, you don't really care about that unless there's something in it for you, do you?"

"You could say that," Voight started, walking around the table."Tell us who's behind this and I can get those charges sealed. It'd take time, but I can get it done."

JP pondered this for a moment. "You're not just blowing smoke up my ass?"

"You have my word," Voight answered.

JP nodded. "Patrick Shostack. New breed of contract killer. He'll kill the kids if he can't get to the parents. Take out an entire city block just for one target. What I did before I went in, there was honor in it. I've got the stomach for a lot of things, but not for this. This new breed, I ain't got the stomach for that."

"Can we get in contact with this Shostack guy?" Jay asked.

"He's got a messaging service. Whether he calls back, I don't know."

Voight slid a phone over to him and JP dialed the number. "Tell him you have Halstead," Voight told him. "You wanna make a deal. We'll take a photo of him dead. We'll rig it."

"And if he doesn't go for it?"

"Improvise."

JP left a message and then the three left the room.

"Think this will work?" Hailey asked Jay since she had been watching the interview from the next room.

"We'll see."

It had been ten minutes and Voight and Halstead were sitting in the interview room with JP, waiting for the phone to ring. Ruzek had rigged up a line so that they could all hear what Shostack was saying.

The phone rang, and Hailey held her breath.

"Hello?"

"JP." Shostack said on the other end. "Didn't expect a call from you."

"Well, I have something you may want, Shostack."

"And that is? I'm a man who desires many things."

"Halstead," JP answered.

"Thought you backed out."

Please God, do not say my name, Hailey thought to herself.

"I did. But then, I heard they were paying you more and I want in."

"What do you want?"

"Half," JP answered. "And you better make a decision quick because the drugs I pumped into him are gonna wear off soon."

"One third and we have a deal," Shostack told him.

"Deal. I'll take care of it and bring you a photo for proof."

"No, no, no. Just because I trust you, doesn't mean I don't want to see him alive. Well, I couldn't care either way to be frank with you. But, there's someone else who needs to see him alive."

Before he could even think about how what he was going to do could affect other people, Jay pointed to the phone and gave a thumbs up. "Deal," JP told Shostack.

They decided on a meeting place and then walked out. Hailey quickly grabbed Jay's arm and dragged him into the other interrogation room.

"What the hell was that?" she shouted. "Y/N was so worried about you when you guys were shot at the other day and now you're putting yourself in danger not even three days later!"

"Last I checked, your title was detective and not sergeant Upton. I can make my own choices!" Jay argued.

"Did you even think? Your choices affect other people besides you, Halstead!"

"I can handle myself out there! Have a little faith would you?"

"Someone wants your head on a silver platter and all you can think about is making this case! Do you even have regard for your own safety?"

Jay pointed an accusing finger at Hailey, inches away from her face. "You are just here to babysit Y/N. So get back to her and do the job you're here to do and I'll do mine...without you fucking interfering with it."

Hailey scoffed and left the room, leaving him alone. And, Jay went downstairs to get ready for the meet.

***

"Is he always a dick?" Hailey asked, walking into the breakroom after taking some time to cool off.

"Who? Ruzek? He never means for his jokes to go that far. If you tell him they're upsetting you, then he'll stop," you answered.

"No, not Ruzek. Your brother."

You turned to face Hailey dead on. "You questioned his abilities to do his job, didn't you?"

"Now that you put it that way, I guess I did," Hailey answered, trying to figure out why that would make Jay so mad.

Luckily, she didn't have to ask as you decided to explain. "That's one of the only times he gets really mad--unless I do something stupid like that comment the other day. Our dad was always telling him to go into the workforce instead of the military and then becoming a cop. He didn't have respect for what Jay did. He didn't have respect for what Will did either, which is why he had to put himself through undergrad and med school."

Hailey nodded. Stuff from your past coming into the present and making emotions run high was something that she was all too familiar with.

"Wanna watch a movie?" Hailey suggested, hoping that would keep you occupied until Jay and the rest of the team got back.

You opened Netflix and then started the movie, thinking nothing of it. Hailey on the other hand, was silently worried about Jay, even if he had just yelled at her. She was only worrying about what would happen to you though if something happened to him...at least, that's what she told herself anyway.

***

You and Hailey looked up from the movie when you heard movement in the bullpen. Seeing that everyone was back, you both left to see what was up.

The first thing you noticed was how red Jay's wrists were. "Jay, what happened?" you asked, walking closer to him.

"I learned that I could choke out a suspect when my hands are zip-tied in front of me." You put your hands on your hips, not appreciating his sass. "I'm fine, Y/N, really. Now, let the big kids do their jobs and go back and do whatever you were doing. I gotta go do an interrogation."

"Can I watch?" you asked.

"I'm sorry," Ruzek stepped in. "Did you just ask if you could watch Halstead do an interrogation?"

"Adam," you whined, "I'm bored."

"Then go for a walk or get food or something," he suggested.

"Dude!" Jay yelled. "She can't be alone right now!"

"Oh yeah, right. Go get something from the vending machines or something."

"Halstead, Atwater," Voight said, breaking up the little quarrel, "Go interrogate Shostack."

"Voight, can I talk to you for a second?" Hailey asked as you walked back into the breakroom.

You were scrolling through social media, trying to find something interesting that kept your attention, when you started to hear Voight and Hailey's conversation. His office was right next to the breakroom, and it's not like the walls were soundproof. You put in your headphones so that if anyone peeked in, it wouldn't look like you were eavesdropping.

"Just let me interview Shostack," you heard Hailey say.

"Hailey, I know you feel bad about starting this mess, but I can't let you in there. If word gets out that you were a snitch, then that would spell bad news."

What did Voight mean by that? you thought to yourself. How was Hailey in on the hit on Jay's life?

"Could be an asset. I might be able to say I know JP and then he'll tell me more."

"I gave you an out so that you could work this case and not get taken down for stalking Halstead and wanting to kill him. You go in there now, and the deal's off the table. I will bury you." Voight paused and you held your breath. "You said you took the murder for hire because you needed money. Why?"

"It's my boyfriend." Hailey was so quiet when she said that, that you had to strain your ears to even hear it.

"Is he hurting you?" Silence. "I can help you, Hailey. Just tell me what's going on."

"I'm gonna go. I promise you I won't interview him." Then, Hailey left Voight's office.

But, you knew one thing: there was no way you'd be staying at your house tonight with Hailey.

***

Hailey said that she had to take a shower, and Jay was still at the district doing paperwork, so you figured now was as good a time as any.

You knew there was a party going on a few blocks from here, so you decided you'd go. You grabbed your wallet and phone and slowly slipped down the stairs and out the back door. Now you just had to make sure that Jay didn't find out. You couldn't give a damn if Hailey lost her mind over your disappearance. She deserved it after all.

Jay was sitting at his desk, trying not to fall asleep when his phone rang. "Hailey? What's going--"

"I need you to ping Y/N's phone now! I got out of the shower and she was gone and I don't know where she is and she didn't leave a note or anything!"

"Slow down," he told her, even though he wanted to freak out as much as she was. "How long were you in the shower?"

"Fifteen minutes."

Jay cradled the phone with his shoulder as he typed away at his computer. "Is her car there?"

There was a pause as Hailey looked out the window. "Yeah, it's here."

"Okay, she couldn't have gone far." He moved his mouse to zoom in. "I got a location."

When you got close to the party, you decided you didn't really want to go there. If by some miracle Jay's unit found you, you didn't want to wreck their fun. So, you kept walking. That was until you heard your name being called from behind you.

"Shit," you muttered, breaking into a run.

"Y/N, stop!"

Dammit, that one was definitely worse. You looked ahead and then turned around. There was nowhere to go; you were cornered between two detectives.

You tried to dodge Jay, but he was too fast and quickly grabbed onto you and held you tight against him until you calmed down. "Stop fighting! Stop fighting, Y/N! We're going home! What the hell were you thinking?"

You calmed down enough to stop squirming, but you were still furious. "What was I thinking?" you yelled. "I was thinking that she--" You pointed an accusing finger at Hailey. "wanted to kill you. She got hired to do that hit, Jay! She was going to fucking kill you and you want me to be alone with her?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I heard her! I heard her talking to Voight earlier about interviewing that one guy and he said she couldn't because no one could know that she was hired to kill you! I don't give a flying fuck if you need the money, Hailey! Yow wanted my big brother dead!"

Still holding onto you, Jay looked directly at Hailey. "Please tell me it's not true. That she tripped and hit her head or something."

Hailey looked at the ground. "It's true but--"

"Unbelievable!"

"Just let me explain, okay?" Hailey argued.

"What's there to explain?"

"Just listen to the reason I needed the money!"

"So you needing money takes priority over my life!" Jay spat.

"God, I got bad information! They said you killed innocent people overseas and I didn't know you had a little sister, so I stopped when I saw that--"

"So you were stalking me?"

"Dammit, Jay! I needed the money to get away from my boyfriend! But like you fucking care! I was just starting to care about your life and now it's just become a big inconvenience!"

"Go home, Hailey! I never wanna see you again." He looked down at you. "We never wanna see you again!"

"Fine! Get a new protection detail because the person who wants you dead is still out there until Shostack gives Intelligence something!"

Then, Hailey got in her car and drove away and Jay finally let go of you. "Get in the car," he told you sternly.

"Jay, I'm sorry--"

"Just get in the damn car, Y/N!"

You walked over to the car and pulled on the handle. "Jay."

"What?" It took all his strength not to blow up on you when you were both still outside.

"It's locked."

He unlocked the car and got into the driver's seat, you in the passenger seat. "I'm sorry," was all you said as Jay started driving.

"You could've gotten yourself killed! Whoever this new breed of contract killer is, apparently they won't stop until they get me and they'll do it by whatever means necessary! So, excuse me for being worried!"

"It's not like I could stay home with Hailey when I knew she wanted to kill you!"

"But you could've told someone! You could've told me!" The next part, he said quieter, which almost made it worse than if he would've yelled it. "How fucking stupid can you get?"

It's not like he had never called you stupid, he had, but it was always jokingly and when you were kids. But, this time, it felt different, like he meant every single word he said. You put your hand over your mouth, to try and stop yourself from sobbing, but one came out anyway.

Jay didn't even seem to notice, just kept his eyes focused on the road and his jaw clenched.

When you got home, you jumped out of the car, not even waiting for Jay to completely put it in park. Then, you ran into the house, only to crash into Will.

"Whoa! Slow down!" he said, grabbing ahold of you to stop you from falling.

You yanked your arm out of his hand. "Let go of me!" you yelled and then ran straight to your room and slammed the door shut for good measure.

"What happened?" Will asked as Jay walked inside.

At this, Jay finally grasped the gravity of the moment and what he had done. "I fucked up, Will. I fucked up so bad."

"So, you let Y/N sneak out. That's happened to everyone. If I remember correctly, me and you did it all the time," Will said, trying to lighten the mood.

"This isn't like that and you know it." Jay paused and took a deep breath. "God, I should've never left her alone with Hailey."

"Why? What's wrong with Hailey?" Will asked. And so, Jay told him. And Will was as shocked as Jay was.

"What did you say to Y/N?"

Jay sat on the couch and put his head in his hands. He hated what he had done only because their dad had said the same thing to Jay when he was younger and you were in the room and defended your big brother, telling your dad that Jay wasn't in fact stupid, but smart. "I called her fucking stupid, Will." He rubbed his hands on his face, pissed at himself. "God, I did what Dad did that one day and she stood up for me. I'm a terrible brother."

Will sat down next to his younger brother and put a comforting arm around him. "Jay, look at me." Jay lifted his head. "You are not a terrible brother, you are far from that. She'll come around and realize that. Now, do you know why Hailey needed the money?"

"Said she needed it to get away from her boyfriend or something like that," Jay shrugged.

"Do you know where she is right now?"

"No, and I really couldn't care less."

"Jay, listen to me. She said she needed it to get away from her boyfriend."

At this, Jay's head snapped up. "Oh, God. Oh, God. I gotta find her. Stay with Y/N!"

***

"How was the undercover assignment?" Zach asked Hailey as she let himself into their little apartment.

"Was good. You know I can't talk about an open investigation, Zach."

"Hmmm, so you weren't working with other cops?"

Hailey looked at him like he was crazy. How did he know that she was working with Halstead? "No, it was just me."

Then, he pulled a gun from his waistband. Hailey put her hands above her head in surrender. "Zach, let's just take a moment to think this through. How about you tell me what you think happened undercover?"

"And you'll answer my questions honestly?" he asked, but with a gun now pointed at her, it was more like a command.

"Why didn't you kill him?"

"Kill who?" she yelled.

"Jay Halstead! Why didn't you kill him?"

I don't know what you're talking about!" She lied, but then instantly regretted it as Zach took the gun and hit her in the stomach. She reached for her gun in her holster, but then Zach took his arm that wasn't holding the gun and twisted it behind her back. Hailey screamed out in pain and she screamed loud.

***

"Shostack," Voight began as he was pacing back in front of Patrick Shostack who was handcuffed in the cage, "you tell me everything you know about who wanted Halstead murdered and how and why a Chicago PD detective got brought in to kill him. Only then, when you tell me everything, will I even consider making a deal."

Shostack was already beginning to bruise from where Voight had hit him, so he decided it was in his best interest if he talked. He had heard rumors about this dirty cop and he knew that Voight wouldn't think twice about killing him to get answers. "The person who wants Halstead dead is Zach Grey."

Voight pulled out his phone and texted the name to Ruzek, telling him that they now had a suspect and to start going through everything about this guy. "What can you tell me about this Grey? How'd he know Halstead?"

"They were in the army together. Apparently, Grey wasn't good at following orders and made really stupid decisions out in the field. So, Halstead told their supervisor about it, and after a few more mess-ups that almost cost the unit their lives, Grey was dishonorably discharged."

"Why wait this long?" Voight asked.

"Dunno. I know Grey just moved to Chicago two years ago from California. He got a girlfriend and then he hatched this elaborate plan to get her to kill him."

"What's the girlfriend's name?"

"I don't know her name, man. I just know she was short and she was blond. Pretty little thing. Apparently, she was a cop, too. He figured that if anyone could get away with killing Halstead, she could."

"Did she know Grey was behind it?" Voight asked, thanking God that Hailey was with Jay because that description Shostack just gave him sounded a hell of a lot like Detective Hailey Upton.

"Not a chance. He called me and I got her to agree to the hit."

"I thought JP got her to agree to the hit?"

"That's where things get tricky. I used a voice modulator to disguise my voice. I told her, that if she needed money, she could kill this guy. I told her that Halstead killed innocents overseas and that he had no family other than his older brother, Will. Once she agreed to it, I gave her a number to call."

"And that number was JP?"

"Yeah. I think he knows Grey but doesn't know that he's the one behind all this. Told Upton that JP'd know what to do since he'd done it before. And, then it was all up to them after that. Didn't know she'd flip and try to help you, though. Now that was a shock."

"Did you know that Halstead has a little sister and that he's also a cop?"

"Yeah, but Grey told me what to say and promised me some of the money if the hit went through."

"Boss!" Adam yelled as he ran downstairs. "You gotta come see this!"

"We're done here," Voight said, turning back to Shostack and then going back upstairs into the bullpen.

Kevin turned the screen of his computer towards Voight. "If we got the right Zach Grey, then Hailey's got some explaining to do." In front of him was a picture from Instagram of Hailey and Zach, Zach kissing her on the cheek and it was posted only a few weeks ago.

"Please tell me you got an address for this prick."

Ruzek flipped through some papers and pulled one out. "Here's his LKA."

Voight nodded. "Let's roll out. I'll loop in Halstead."

Before Voight could even get a word in edgewise to the young detective on the other end of the phone, Jay butted in. "Did you know that Hailey was gonna kill me?"

"I know, but she backed out because she had gotten bad information--"

"You sound just like her! Why are you defending her?"

"She was trying to get out of a bad situation! Shostack told us everything, just trust me on this one. Please tell me that she's with you."

"She's not. I'm driving around looking for her right now. She said she needed to get away from her boyfriend before she left."

"Shit. Try this address."

Voight gave him the address, but Jay was wondering how they had gotten it. "How do you know where she is?"

"Does the name Zach Grey ring a bell?"

"We served together. I got him dishonorably discharged because he was being reckless and me and other guys almost died because of him. But, why is this important?"

"He's the one who wants you dead, Jay. He found out you were in Chicago and since he's Hailey's boyfriend, he figured she'd be able to get away with killing you."

"But he told her that I was the scum of the earth and didn't know I was a cop or had a little sister, so then she backed out," Jay said, piecing it together.

"Exactly."

"I'm on my way to Grey's place. Hopefully, he has no idea Hailey's been with me because Grey's got a temper."

Jay turned on his lights and sirens and sped through Chicago and into a more rundown place on the southside. He knew that Grey wasn't the best with money just based on how much he gambled overseas, so it made sense to him why he was living in this dump of an apartment complex.

Jay flashed his badge at the person who worked "security" and then made his way to the third floor, gun already drawn. He redialed Voight's number and held the phone between his shoulder and his ear. "What's your ETA?" he asked, creeping closer and closer to the apartment.

"Two minutes out."

Then, Jay heard an ear-piercing scream coming from the apartment where Grey was supposed to be. It sounded like a woman. It sounded like Hailey. "Sarge, I'm going in."

"Halstead, do you have protective gear?"

"Yeah, I grabbed it when I went looking for Y/N. Don't worry, it's on." Then, he ended the call.

"Chicago PD!" Jay yelled and then kicked in the door.

"Jay! Get out of here! He's gonna--"

"Shut it, bitch!" Zach twisted Hailey's arm even more, causing her to scream out in pain.

"Listen, Grey, I know you're pissed at me for what I did all those years ago, but Hailey didn't do any of that. You gotta let her go, man," Jay pleaded, gun trained on Zach.

"She was supposed to kill you!" He moved the gun so that it was now against Hailey's temple.

She whimpered, terrified. He had thrown her gun across the room, so she had no way of defending herself, not that she'd try with a gun against her head. She knew what to do in these situations, which was, wait until a moment of weakness and then get him. Or, wait for backup.

"You want me, right?" Jay asked, putting his hands above his head, gun still in hand. "Take the gun off her and point it at me."

"No!" But all Hailey got in response was Grey digging the gun further into her temple.

"Drop your gun," Grey ordered.

"Okay." Jay dropped the magazine out of his gun and then set it down on the floor.

"Now kick it away."

"Kicking it away," Jay narrated as he kicked his gun across the room.

Only then did Grey take the gun away from Hailey and point it at Jay. "Any last words Halstead?"

Now was Hailey's chance. He was distracted so Hailey swung around and knocked the gun from his hand. The minute the gun was on the ground, Jay jumped into action, tackling Grey as Hailey run at the guns, making sure that Grey couldn't get them. Jay flipped Grey around and pulled out his cuffs. "Get up," he told him after he was finished handcuffing him.

"Chicago-- Oh," Ruzek said as he and Voight entered the apartment to see Grey already handcuffed.

"Let's go get him booked," Voight said. Then, he looked at Hailey. "You should probably get to the hospital just to get checked out."

"I'm fine, really," she protested. "And I don't really want to spend the night in the hospital. It's the least I can do to help Jay with paperwork anyway."

"I'll call Will," Jay said as he handed Zach Grey off to Voight.

***

"Where's Jay?" you asked Will as you walked into the kitchen. You had cried enough and now needed to rehydrate.

"He went to go find Hailey."

That's when it hit you. I needed the money to get away from my boyfriend. Shit, he was hurting her.

"It's all my fault! If he hurts her, it's all my fault, Will!" you yelled.

"Hey, hey, no it's not," he said, taking the water glass from your hand. "We don't even know if he's physically abusing her. It could be emotional abuse. We could be wrong altogether. Don't worry about it."

You sighed and took the glass back to get some water. "Thaks, but that doesn't make me feel any better."

"I think there's hockey on," Will said, changing the subject. "Let's go watch that."

"Yeah, I guess. I'll be right back." You finished your water and put the glass in the dishwasher. Then, you went to your room to grab a blanket.

When you looked on your bed, you saw it was missing something. Kitty. Quickly, you grabbed your backpack and dumped out its contents. "Shit," you muttered as you realized you had left it on the couch of the breakroom at the district.

You ran downstairs, blanket forgotten. "Will! We gotta go to the--" He held up a hand, effectively silencing you. It was only then you saw that he was on the phone.

"Yeah, it's in my car. Yeah, I'll bring Y/N. We're on our way," Will said to whoever was on the other end and then hung up.

"What was that about?" you asked. You had a right to know because, from what you had heard, you had to go somewhere with Will.

"We gotta go to the district. Jay wants me to have a look at Hailey's shoulder, says she doesn't want to go to the hospital this late at night."

"Oh, okay. Can't be that bad because if it was broken or something Voight would make her go to the ED right?" you asked, partially blaming yourself.

"I'd hope so. Let's go."

You were walking up the stairs into the bullpen fifteen minutes later when one of your worst nightmares came true.

"Hey, did some kid leave their stuffed animal here?" Ruzek asked, holding up Kitty as he exited the breakroom.

You and Will shared a look that you hoped nobody else saw as you made your way over to Jay and Hailey. You were about to open your mouth and admit it was yours because you figured, if you didn't do it in the next few seconds, Jay would do it for you. But were surprisingly saved by Hailey.

"It's mine," Hailey lied. "My mom gave it to me and I wanted to get it out of the apartment before it became a crime scene."

"Oh," Ruzek said, furrowing his eyebrows and handing it to her. "Here you go I guess."

"Thanks."

When he turned around, Hailey handed it to you and you quickly shoved Kitty into one of Jay's desk drawers.

"Y/N, I just wanna apologize--"

"No, you were in trouble and trying your best to get out of it." Then, you stooped down and whispered in her ear, since she was sitting down, waiting for Will to examine her. "And you told Adam that that was yours, so it's the least I can do."

"So, we're all good?" she asked.

"We're all good," you confirmed.

"Now, let's take a look at that shoulder," Will said, unzipping his doctor's bag.

After a few minutes, he declared that it was just a light sprain, so it should be fine, even though it might hurt like hell.

"Good, because I need her to be okay," Voight said, exiting his office.

"What do you mean?" Hailey asked. It's not like she was one of his detectives.

"You helped us solve this case and led us to Grey. This wouldn't have been possible without you, Hailey," Voight told her.

"Thank you, Sergeant."

"Since Kim's on furlough right now and Erin left to go to New York, this unit is short...especially on female cops. What you did earlier, disarming Grey, you proved you can handle it here. So, what do you say? You wanna stay?"

"I'd be honored," Hailey answered, breaking out into a smile.

"Welcome to Intelligence, Detective Upton."

A/N: That was long! Sorry, it's taken me so long to update! I got a few ideas and never stuck with them until this one! Please vote and comment and tell me what you thought! Do you like more upstead centric stories or do you like the ones that mainly focus on Y/N and the Halstead bros? Also on my wattpad @ malewk172

[fandomlovingfreak]

Healing His Heart (4/?)

Young Remus Lupin/Reader

Rating: E for Everyone

Word Count: 2890

MasterList Link I AO3 Link I Wattpad Link I Tiktok Link

Summary: (y/n) is two years younger than him, a popular Slytherin, and Regulus Black's best friend. Yet he can't help but be attracted to her bewitching personality and sweet smile. Unfortunately, his er--problem makes it harder to get close to others. Despite his attempts to push her away (for her own good) she seems determined to worm her way into his life.

Notes: Thanks for reading!

Enjoy

"I asked her out," Remus says in the common room later that night, "to Hogsmeade this weekend."

"Asked who?" James springs from the couch.

"(y/n), of course." 

"(y/n)?" Both James and Sirius yell at the same time.

He jerks his head away from his two friends, "yes? Isn't that what you've been bothering me to do for months? Make a move?"

"Yes," Sirius's eyes are wide, "I didn't think you'd do it, though."

"She's very-- persuasive."

"Obviously very persuasive!" James laughs, "I honestly thought you'd never do it."

Remus shoves his nose back into his textbook, embarrassed by his friend's comments, "Well, I did."

"How'd she manage the impossible?" Sirius asks, leaning towards him.

Remus feels his neck burn. He is not telling James and Sirius (and whoever else may be around the commons room) about the whole speech and then-- the kiss. "She and I talked it out. That's all."

Sirius squints at him, "I don't believe you."

"What? Why?" 

"Because you've been so adamant since Summer that it would not and could not work out. Something happened--" Sirius's devilish grin widens as if he's had a sudden, brilliant realization, "you kissed her! NO! She kissed you!" Remus tries to look stony, he really does, but his face most definitely spills the truth as James and Sirius laugh. James ruffles his hair, asking how it was.

He shushes them, "stop it. It's not that big of a deal--"

"She took the initiative and kissed you. (y/n) really does get what she wants, eh?" James winks, elbowing Sirius playfully.

Sirius squints at Remus, all joking thrown to the back burner, "that's my brother's friend, Moony! You better not hurt her, you understand? She's practically a Black."

"Not for long," James singsongs "(y/n) Lupin has got a ring to it."

Remus rolls his eyes, his cheeks a brilliant shade of red, "I don't have time for this-- I've got a Charms paper to write."

"I bet he's going upstairs to plan how he's going to propose," James snickers. Remus flips him off as he makes his way towards their shared dorm.

"You have to ask my permission first before you ask her!" Sirius shouts after him.

"Shut up!" Remus practically runs up the stairs to end their embarrassing words.

***

Eventually, after the longest week of his life, the Hogsmeade weekend does come.

He finds her waiting for him in the courtyard, donned in a large black winter coat that reaches below her knees, snow boots with fur around the edges, a large knit scarf in Slytherin colors loosely wrapped around her neck, and a grey beanie on her head. He thinks she looks absolutely adorable in her winter gear.

"Hi," his voice is breathy, the crisp air making his words visible in the air.

"Hi," she looks down at his gloveless hands, "are your hands not cold?"

"They're fine." (y/n) shakes her head slightly, taking his hand in one of her mittened ones.

"You can't walk around in the cold without gloves," she tuts, smiling up at him, "tell me if your other hand gets cold. You can have my other mitten."

"I'm not taking your mitten (y/n). Besides, I can put one in my jacket pocket," Remus uses his unoccupied hand to move her scarf further up her chin.

"We'll have to get creative how we keep your other hand warm then." Remus flushes, causing (y/n) to giggle. "C'mon." She pulls him towards the snowy path. He stumbles for only a second, easily pacing her as they walk.

"So--A walk?" he can't think of anything more intelligent to say at that moment, much too focused on the feeling of her hand in his.

"A walk, yes." she glances up at him, "Ask me anything. I'm an open book."

"Anything?" he takes a moment to think of an interesting question but lands on, "what's--uh, what's your favorite class this year?"

(y/n) looks thoughtful for a moment, "surprisingly, I'm rather good at Potions. I think I'll be allowed to take advanced in the upcoming year."

"Really?" he's impressed, "I'm awful at potions."

(y/n) smiles, "What's your favorite class?" 

"Defence Against the Dark Arts," he answers swiftly. 

"Oh really?" she glances at him, "what about Defence Against the Dark Arts do you like?"

"All of it. I think the entire class is fascinating. Maybe it's because it covers such a large range of topics in our world."

"Yeah? Regulus told me once you're big into tutoring younger students. Have you ever thought about teaching after graduation?"

"Me, teaching? No, I haven't. I honestly don't know what I'm going to do once I graduate."

She looks at him, funny, "No? No dream career? But you're absolutely brilliant. I'm sure there are a million different departments at the Ministry that would really benefit from your presence."

He chuckles, "Thank you, but uh-- not many people would hire me."

"Why?"

"Well--the whole…werewolf thing usually disqualifies me from most jobs."

She stops their walking, "What do you mean? People don't want to hire you because of that? That's asinine, Remus!"

He looks at the girl, so full of rage over how others treat him. Something he or she can't control. "It's how people are--"

"No! That's bullshit. Why--why do you let them treat you like that? Why hasn't anyone done anything?" Her (y/e/c) eyes shine with the raw indignant emotion.

"You don't have to be angry on my account. I'm used to it by now (y/n). I've lived with this condition for a long time now."

"I still--" she takes a deep breath, "It's not fair."

He offers her a small smile, squeezing her hand. At this moment, she looks like she'd go to war for him, and he can't say he's upset about it. If anything, it's deepening the feelings that were already present for her. "I know. But, it's not worth being angry over. People will be people." She huffs but doesn't respond. After a moment of silence, he asks, "what do you want to do after graduation?"

(y/n) glances up at him through her lashes, "I want to be a healer."

"Yeah? Would've guessed… professional Quidditch player," he teases.

(y/n) shoulder checks him playfully, "You sound like Regulus. He's tried to convince me at least a thousand times to give up the healer dream and focus on Quidditch."

"We could all go and watch the famous (y/n) (y/l/n)," Remus grins at her. He could see it. She'd been Slytherin's prized Chaser for two years now, and from what he's seen himself, he could see her leading a successful Quidditch career.

"Well, it's not going to happen," she laughs, "I've always wanted to be a healer. That's why I make sure my marks in potions and herbology are top of my class. But I don't want to work for St. Mungos if that's what you're thinking." she shakes her head, "I want to open my own shop. Maybe in my lifetime, I can cure some diseases and ailments. At least make people's suffering less than it is now. Just do something good, you know?"

He nods, impressed by her career choice. He shouldn't be surprised that she's so passionate. The girl was about to burst into flames over his mistreatment moments ago. "That's incredibly admirable. I'm sure you'll achieve the goals you've set out for yourself."

"Probably why I'm a Slytherin, eh? Ambition and all that," she waves her hand in a very 'Sirius' manner, no doubt adopted after years of summer's with his friend.

He chuckles, "obviously."

"Maybe," she looks away from him shyly, "if you can't find anyone open-minded enough to hire you based on your skills, you can work at my shop."

"Offering me a job on the first date? Guess I can't fuck this up, huh?" He jokes.

(y/n)'s bubbling laughter spills from her lips as she bumps her shoulder against his, "You're good with maths, right?"

"Good enough," Remus shrugs.

"Perfect. You can look after the books and the store as I tinker around with my potions during the Wizarding World of its ailments in the back."

He grins, "sounds like a deal."

***

She asks him mundane things, like what his favorite food is and his favorite color. He hasn't been quizzed like this, probably ever, as she attempts to get to know him. All of this seems surface level, like she doesn't want to pry too deep. Maybe she's afraid he'll get scared away if she tries to push him too hard for information. Whenever he can get in a question, though, she's all too happy to answer. 

She's chattering on about her parents when he stops them in the middle of the path, turning to face her. 

"What are you doing?" she watches as he moves to adjust her hat so he can see her eyes better.

Remus doesn't answer her question with words. Instead, his fingers roam her jaw before he's leaning down to kiss her quickly. The soft warmth of her lips resting against his for the moment is intoxicating. The kiss is gentle and innocent but warms his whole body. He doesn't know how he went on for years, not kissing these lips.

(y/n)'s eyes flutter open, "what was that for?"

"Just wanted to," his eyes flick back down to her lips, "again."

"Again," she's grinning, pulling him back down to her lips by his scarf. Her tongue swipes across his bottom lip, demanding to deepen the kiss as her fingers run through his tousled hair. Remus groans as she tugs at the hair at the nape of his neck, finally allowing (y/n) to kiss her how she pleases.

She feels so warm and solid against his body and under his hands that rest on her waist.

"Moony!" Remus pulls away from the kiss at the sound of Sirius's voice. Looking towards where Sirius's voice came from, he sees James and Sirius laughing like this was the most amusing situation they've ever stumbled upon.

"You haven't even gotten the poor girl a Butterbeer yet. Here you are snogging her on the main road?"

"Shut up, Sirius," (y/n) scowls at Sirius, hiding her face slightly in his chest.

James snickers, "I thought we taught you better, Moony."

Remus frowns, "get out of here." They continue to walk away, making kissy noises. Remus leans his forehead against hers, muttering a sorry.

"It's fine--" she giggles, tilting her chin up to press another kiss to his lips.

Remus pulls away from the kiss, rubbing a hand up and down her covered arm. "C'mon. I'll get you that Butterbeer so no one else questions my intentions."

(y/n) rolls her eyes, "I don't care what James and Sirius think."

"You're not the one who has to share a dorm with them later. I'll never hear the end of that." He gestures with a nod towards his slowly retreating friends.

(y/n) giggles adjusting his scarf around his neck, "If I kiss you again, will it make it more bearable?"

He chuckles, "maybe." She leans up again, kissing him quickly before she's again dragging him back down the snowy path.

***

He does get her that Butterbeer eventually after they've walked the path rather slowly to make the time last. They sit at one of the tables nearly in the corner of Three Broomsticks. (y/n) continues to chat away happily, her fingers intertwined with his over the wooden tabletop. 

"So what's it like sharing a dorm with those three?" she asks, taking another sip of her Butterbeer. 

"It's madness," he laughs against the rim of his mug, "but they're the best friends I could ever ask for."

(y/n)'s smile reaches her eyes, "Yeah?"

"Of course, they drive me insane. It's impossible to sleep around them. Sirius loves to pull pranks on anyone who's sleeping."

"I'm fully aware of that. I stopped sleeping in Regulus's room once I became the victim of those pranks." Her eyes twinkle in the muted light of the pub. Remus loses concentration on their conversation for a moment gazing into those (y/e/c) eyes. 

"I'm surprised he dared prank you."

"You think I'm special enough to not be a victim of Sirius's pranks?"

Remus shrugs, "Regulus and Sirius are very protective of you."

She frowns, "what makes you say that?"

Remus leans further over the table, "My life has been threatened by both the Black brother's over you this year alone."

(y/n)'s expression turns to shocked, "no way. What did Regulus say?"

"Demanded to know why I was leading you on. Told me off right in the middle of the hallway," Remus smiles at (y/n), rubbing his thumb gently against the back of her hand.

She looks mortified, "I told him not to intervene--"

"He was right, though. I was acting like-- well, like a jackass. I'm sorry about that, by the way. The whole night at the pub... and everything after that. It was-- immature, to say the least."

"I was so angry at you at the pub, Remus. Were you really that jealous over me talking to that guy?" Remus, feeling still embarrassed over the way he reacted that night, flushes a deep scarlet.

"I don't know what came over me. You don't know how badly I wish I could go back and change how I reacted--"

"It's okay, Remus, honestly."

He smiles, looking at their fingers. Hers look so small in his own, so-- fragile against his scarred ones. "I can't believe I tried so hard to keep you away from me. It's silly. You're-- you're so wonderful…"

(y/n) laughs, "you are too… so sweet and-- gods, Remus…" she's got this look in her eyes that releases butterflies in his stomach, "you don't even see how wonderful you are. It's almost heartbreaking."

He feels his cheeks heat up at her words. No one has ever shown him this sort of affection before. He's watched on the sidelines, and James and Sirius dated people, never really daring to try half in fear of rejection and half because… well, no one tried. And he's partially to blame as well; it's not like he tried. With (y/n), though, it didn't feel like much trying was required. She made it easy.

"Again, I don't see how I deserve you." Remus rubs at the back of his neck, too embarrassed to meet her eyes again.

(y/n) sighs in exasperation, "Remus Lupin-- enough of that. Now tell me something---" she pauses, "tell me something about your childhood."

"What would you like to know?" he rubs his thumb across her knuckles.

"What are your parent's names?"

"Lyall and Hope."

"Did they both attend Hogwarts

Remus shakes his head no, "my mum's a muggle. But my dad, yes."

"Really? I always assumed both your parents were wizarding folk."

"My dad met my mum because of a Boggart. Saved her from it and well, the rest is history."

(y/n) giggles, "that's so cute! Both my parents went to Hogwarts. My mum was in Ravenclaw and my dad, Slytherin. But mum's muggle-born. But my dad, yes."

"Really? I always assumed both your parents were wizarding folk."

"Do you spend a lot of time with your mother's family?"

"No. I don't see my parents very often either."

"Why not?" 

He hesitates for a moment, "with my condition… I don't like to, you know, give my parents any issues."

"There's no way your mother thinks that is acceptable. I mean--"

"No, you're right. She's begged me for ages to come home for breaks, but it's easier to either stay here or stay with my friends." And safer for everyone.

(y/n) shakes her head, "so you stay for… Christmas break at the castle every year?"

"I've stayed at the Potter's once or twice, but yes. For the most part."

"Remus…" she reaches out to touch his cheek, "this year you're planning on staying here--?"

Remus's eyebrows furrow. Even if (y/n) knew what was wrong with him, he didn't exactly still know how to talk about it so openly. "The full moon falls on Christmas this year."

He can see the gears moving in her brain before she opens up her mouth, "Can I stay with you?"

"(y/n)..." he chuckles, "I can't ask you to stay with me. You're going to be horribly bored here--"

"C'mon. Are the boys staying?" she pleads with him.

Sirius had already planned on it anyway, "Yes."

"Then I'll stay too."

"You should go home and see your parents--"

(y/n) rolls her eyes, "I'll have plenty of Christmases with them in the future. C'mon, I'll get Regulus to stay too. We'll make a whole ordeal out of it on the twenty-fourth." It's tempting to let her throw away her plans for him...

"Are you sure? I don't want to ruin your break--"

"You'd hardly be ruining my break, honest." 

Remus can't help but succumb to her generous offer, "Okay. If you're sure."

(y/n)'s face visibly brightens when he agrees, "of course, I'm sure." 

***

"I had fun," she's got her arm hooked with his, snuggled up close as they walk back to the castle.

"Me too," Remus glances down at her. Her lovely smile, directed towards him, makes him feel like he's won some sort of lottery. 

"It's no Hogsmeade, but... do you want to study in the library with me this week?" she asks.

"You've completely stolen my heart already," he laughs.

[catgrump]

Can you do “hold still” for Saiibo? (Shuichi x Kiibo)

I love these two tysm for the request

So this AU is a BIT out there but give it a chance: this is a Non-Despair Hope’s Peak AU where Kiibo is A: human, and B: the class’ Ultimate Lucky Student (and I can’t wait to think up more of Luckster Kiibo; it’s such a good idea! Send me asks if you wanna know more about Luckster!Kiibo)

🌻🌻🌻

Chemistry is not either Shuichi or Kiibo’s strong suit.

It’s no wonder they both felt like they needed to meet after class hours to figure out the latest assignment.

And Shuichi would be lying if he said he wasn’t relishing the chance to work with his cute lab partner some more. Kiibo is really cute and sweet but Shuichi has never EVER made a first move before, and the thought of rejection paralyzes him.

“I figured out how to at least turn the Bunsen burner on,” Kiibo chirped with a bright smile

“Hah, well that’s good,” Shuichi replied

Shuichi couldn’t help but watch as Kiibo very delicately turned it on. He also couldn’t help but notice Kiibo wince when he bent his hand a certain way. “Hey, are you okay, Kiibo?” Shuichi also went out of his way to call Kiibo by name to try and let him know he cares

“Hm?”

“Your hand: are you hurt?”

“Oh,” Kiibo looked down at the hand he was moving unnaturally, “I think I just got too close to the burner when I was trying to get it to work before you got here.”

“Wait, like the fire?”

“Yeah, it looked like a small flame and it was blue so I figured it wasn’t too hot and I needed to grab something on the other side of the table—“

“Kiibo, you burnt your hand!”

“Huh?”

“You burnt your hand; you need to treat it!”

“It feels fine now; I’ll be okay! If it was that bad of a burn I’d be in a lot of pain, right? I guess it’s the luck?”

“No, Kiibo,” Shuichi grabbed Kiibo’s wrist that wasn’t on his injured hand, “Come on, you need to treat this.”

Instinctively, Shuichi was dragging Kiibo out of the chemistry lab toward the nearest bathroom. Once they were inside and the door swung closed behind them, Shuichi realized he had no idea what he was going to do to help.

How do you treat a burn? Shuichi has no idea.

“Dammit,” Shuichi muttered, taking out his phone and googling ‘how to treat a burn’

“How long ago did you get hurt?” Shuichi asked

“Uh, maybe like ten minutes ago?” Kiibo asked, uncertain

Shuichi’s face contorted as he scrolled through the search results. The only resource he had available was running water from the sinks, so he turned one on, putting his hand under the water to check the temperature.

“Shuichi, it doesn’t hurt that bad,” Kiibo piped in

Shuichi impulsively shushed him and took his hand. Kiibo felt tense and shaky, even in Shuichi’s gentle grip, “Hold still, alright?” Shuichi tried to soothe him and hide his own anxiety

Kiibo swallowed and nodded his head in affirmation.

“This may not feel amazing,” Shuichi gently warned, looking to Kiibo’s big blue eyes that were full of worry

“I, uh, I’ve never gotten burnt before— not even a sunburn,” Kiibo added

“Lucky you,” Shuichi chuckled, “They’re not fun.”

Seeing Shuichi smile made Kiibo’s shoulders relax before Shuichi asked if he was ready.

Shuichi brought Kiibo’s hand under the cool— not cold— water and felt empathetic when Kiibo’s face cringed as the water made contact with his palm. “You’re right” Kiibo winced with his eyes shut tight, “This isn’t fun.”

“You’re doing good,” Shuichi’s gaze was fixed on Kiibo but his body’s attention was on Kiibo’s hand. He was absentmindedly brushing his thumb on the back of Kiibo’s hand, “Just a little longer, okay?”

Even though their hands were drenched in cool tap water, the air was getting warmer between the two of them.

Kiibo’s eyes fluttered open to see Shuichi looking back at him with a soft, caring demeanor. “You okay?” Shuichi asked, suddenly smiling

“Y-yeah, I think so,” Kiibo stuttered, “What about you?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Shuichi lied

And then they just... looked at each other for a few moments. If it weren’t for the sound of the water from the faucet, it would’ve been as if time were standing still. They moved in slow motion, holding hands in the sink, subconsciously moving closer together, making impulsive glances at the other’s eyes and lips. Is this—? Is this happening?

“Um,” Kiibo uttered and swallowed as Shuichi was suddenly centimeters from his face, “You didn’t have to do this, Shuichi.”

“Do what?” Shuichi’s heart was racing

“Help me? Like, I think I would’ve survived—“

After quickly drying his sweating palm, Shuichi took a chance and grabbed Kiibo’s other hand, “I just...” it would’ve helped if Shuichi planned out what he wanted to say, wouldn’t it? “I got worried seeing you hurt.”

Kiibo’s eyes were locked on the new touch they were sharing, “But why? I’m nothing special—“

“Says who?”

“I dunno,” Kiibo sighed, “everyone? I mean I’m only at this school because of random chance—“

“H-hey, Kiibo?”

“Yes?”

“Do you believe in fate?”

“Uh,” Kiibo was unsure where this was going, “I’m not sure. I’ve never really thought about it.”

Shuichi squeezed his dry hand, took a breath, and looked Kiibo in the eye, “I don’t really believe in it myself. It would kind of contradict my entire M.O. ... But if it weren’t for whatever ‘random chance’ that brought you here, we wouldn’t have met.”

Kiibo blinked a few times as he tried to process what Shuichi said. But he didn’t know what that was, so he just asked, “What are you trying to say?”

Shuichi groaned and keeled his head back in frustration, “This sucks; holy shit this is HARD to do—“

“I’m sorry,” Kiibo briefly let go of Shuichi’s dry hand when he heard his tone change, “I won’t be a bother to you if—“

And Shuichi instead brought his now free hand to Kiibo’s arm in a panic, “No no no no that’s like, the opposite of what I’m trying to say!”

Kiibo tilted his head, still unsure. Shuichi sighed, brought his gaze to the bathroom tile and asked, mostly to himself, “I’m going to just have to say it, huh?”

“Say what?” Kiibo sounded genuinely worried

Shuichi picked his head up and pursed his lips when he saw how sweet Kiibo looked. His crystal eyes wide, his faint eyebrows raised, his blonde hair framing his cherubic face with that piece that sticks up looking like a halo, his lips parted ever-so-slightly. His heart was caught in his chest but if he didn’t say something, he felt like he was going to explode, “You’re... you’re really cute,” and as soon as the words came out of Shuichi’s mouth he felt the knot in his chest tighten even more

“Huh?”

What does he mean, ‘huh?’?? Shuichi has to keep going?? He forced out a chuckle like he just caught his breath after riding a rollercoaster, “You’re cute, and, I, uh... I really like you?”

Why did his intonation go up like it was a question. Is isn’t a question; Shuichi KNOWS he likes him. “Sorry,” Shuichi was impulsively apologizing, “I get it if you don’t feel the same; I get kind of stupid when—“

And to both of their surprise, Kiibo shut him up with a kiss. It was quick and delicate, but their lips met for a few brief, blissful moments. Shuichi’s eyes were stunned open and remained that way as Kiibo separated them from each other, and now it was Kiibo who was trying not to flub his feelings, “Was that too much? Too fast? I’m sorry, I’ve never liked someone who liked me back—“

Now it was Shuichi’s turn to shut him up. He was smiling as he put a hand to Kiibo’s cheek, closed his eyes, and went back for another kiss. This time it was slower and more deliberate. It spoke— no, it sang— words of tenderness, longing, and bliss. Kiibo’s hand held on to Shuichi’s as he responded to Shuichi’s call, letting their lips harmonize together... suddenly fading out to the accompaniment of the sink their other hands still lay in.

They broke away and simultaneously looked at their drenched hands starting to prune, and laughed together. “We still need to finish treating this,” Shuichi said, finally turning the water off

Kiibo was a bit giggly as he asked, “Okay; what’s next? Is kissing not part of the treatment?”

“Only if you want it to be,” suddenly confident now that he knows his feelings are reciprocated, Shuichi quickly kissed Kiibo’s cheek, “But technically, no; I uh, need some petroleum jelly, I think?”

“Maybe we should’ve just gone to the nurse’s office?” Kiibo asked with a sheepish grin

“But then we wouldn’t have gotten to do this,” Shuichi went back for another kiss, to Kiibo’s delight

“Well, we could’ve,” Kiibo smiled, “But that would’ve been awkward for the school nurse, huh?”

Shuichi laughed and kissed his forehead. “Come on, you goof, let’s get a professional to fix you up.”

If you enjoy my work, you can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi if you’re able! 💛 Fics will always be free; this is just an additional way to support me

[black-streak]

Little Pistol - Where is my Mind?

Chapter 3

First Previous Next

The song is by The Pixies. Did I mention this is going to take a while? Because it's going to take a while. Burner is turned way down to warm. Not even low heat. Here we are. By the way, would you guys be interested in the playlists I make for when I'm writing? Let me know.

Reminder kids, I tend to write more when y'all interact with my work (comments, asks, ect.) Please fuel me.

LP Taglist

@zalladane @moonlightstar64 @amayakans @elmokingkong @queen-in-a-flower-crown @karategirl119 @dreamykitty25 @danielslilangel @melicmusicmagic @xahriia @sassakitty @yin-390 @zotinha456 @indecisive-mess-named-me

Permanent list

@naoryllis @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @my-name-is-michell @maribat-is-lifeblood @dast218 @novicevoice @shizukiryuu @princess-of-fangirls @bigpicklebananatree @pirats-pizzacanninibles @abrx2002 @breemeister @darkthunder1589 @thestressmademedoit @severelyenchantedwonderland @isabellemasen @multi-fandom-freak0221 @fantasyloversblog @bzz75 @cloudiedraws @jardimazul @orbitsvt @gingerdaile @sotheresthatthought @kadmeread @novaloptr @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @crazylittlemunchkin @18-fandoms-unite-08 @tiny-goddess-of-chaos @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @the-alice-of-hearts

~---~

Over the following weeks, everything shifted slowly but steadily. Chat became more and more focused and professional during attacks and so very desperate for reassurance of his good work afterwards. Normally, they had very little time for such things due to the timers on their miraculouses, but with each thing he did to please her, she offered a bit more of her time and softened ever so slightly. It seemed the perfect little reward to drive him further in the right direction. Akumas were simply an inconvenience if annoying now, or if she were lucky, a fun little puzzle to figure out. A major improvement on the terror and stress and anxiety they induced before.

Things at school were shifting as well. She'd long ago given up on remaining friends with everyone, especially with the classroom changes over the last few years. She was entirely too busy to keep up with people who no longer shared a classroom with her or put in the effort to seek her out. She would've loved to remain close to them all, sure, but the reality was that without the ease of having the same homeroom, it just wasn't possible. Alya and Nino sometimes sought her out, luckily sharing a class still and willing to work around her own schedule. 

As did Chloe, though normally for something regarding a school function. Chloe was an interesting one. She still had her lapdog and turned her nose up to her peers, but she no longer hunted Mari down to bully her. They weren't friends, but they had found a level of respect and civility between them. That worked just fine for them.

The part that shifted lay more in how she interacted with her peers. She never lied. She also stopped hiding though. Her honesty began to extend to her emotions and reactions. She stopped pushing herself aside for others. Really though, if she expected decency and a level of care for her from Chat, surely she should expect the same of those she surrounded herself with, right?

Marinette still spent spare moments considering how to help people around her. What to say or do to push them into adjusting their own actions into something more acceptable. Less cruel and inconsiderate. Still, it wasn't her place, so she left it be. They'd figure it out, she hoped.

…

"M'lady? I've been thinking and… I had a thought about the whole Hawkmoth thing."

"Oh? What's the thought?" She turned to offer Chat her full attention where the boy squirmed.

"Well, what if he's been an akuma? We keep crossing off anyone who's been akumatized, but what if that's what he wants?" He asked, sounding more and more unsure of himself under her watchful gaze.

Considering it, she nodded, "That could be dangerous, how do you think he did it though?"

"Well. Couldn't he just conjure the butterfly and send it out to hunt out negative feelings and then detransform? Certainly he must feel negative feelings constantly, so the butterfly would be attracted to him before it even got far enough to feel someone else's?"

Marinette, looked out to the Eiffel tower, the structure making a perfect focal point to zone out on to think over his suggestion. To detransform without deactivating anything you created was possible, she knew this due to lucky charms remaining in the past. But how would he control it if he was the one akumatized? Well she supposed his motives would remain the same, akuma or not, so he wouldn't need to worry about it. To deakumatize though, how would that work? Would catching their miraculouses be enough of a relief to release the akuma on its own? Or maybe Hawkmoth just didn't think that far ahead to begin with. Either way, it's entirely possible he could've been an akuma, now that she thought about it. Turning to face the cat, she let a small smile show, "That's a very good observation. You're right, he could do that, couldn't he? Good kitty cat," she watched him perk up and straighten, making her smile a little wider. A stray thought turned her lips back down though, "This means we're back to square one though, with everyone in Paris as the suspects. And just as we'd started to knock some off."

Char shrunk slightly, only to perk back up, "That's not entirely true, we could always take off anyone who we've seen get akumatized?"

"Without revealing the places we frequent and possibly our identities?" Her eyes cut to his own, in a disapproving manner, "Sure, I can cross off my own, but your experiences are useless to my mental list since you can't tell me. And don't you dare suggest that you could tell me who you are. You know how I feel about that." 

That seemed to take the wind from beneath him, and as much as she wished she could assure him it was okay and they'd just keep brainstorming, she didn't want to encourage the idea of being more open to each other. Suddenly, he perked once more.

"I'll start looking into past akumas. Maybe we can recross them from our lists?"

"And how would we go about that?" Her voice betrayed her weary feeling.

"I'm a black cat. I'm very good at observing others without being noticed. I can spy on them until there's an akuna without their making it so."

That was kind of a breach in privacy and meant he'd waste time on people she knew were innocent. But then, it wasn't her idea and she wouldn't take part in it and he looked so eager. If he felt it was a good idea… well he's never listened when she told him not to do things before, once he got it into his head that it was a good idea. Might as well have him report the results to her if he was going to do it anyways.

"Okay, let me know what you find out. If I get an idea for who to look in to next, you'll do that for me though, yes?"

"Of course! I'll start right away. I won't let you down, bugaboo, I purromise!" He shouted as he took off across the rooftops. 

Uh, she hated that petname. That's okay, it'll stop soon enough. She'd make sure of it.

…

"So now we're stalking people? Treating everyone as suspect?" Tikki ground out upon release.

"Of course not. He is. Of his own volition."

"You could've told him not to."

"We both know when Chat gets an idea in his head, he doesn't let up until he's seen it through. At least with my approval, he won't hide it from me. Since when have you had issue with my invading others' privacy, anyways? You insisted I stalk Adrien back when he had the book. Which reminds me, he's given me a thought."

"You still could've tried! It's the intention of it that matters," she pouted.

"Enough Tikki, we both know we won't agree on this. It'll be fine, anyways, I'm sure. Back to my thought," she spoke right over the goddess's complaints, "Adrien had that book. His father's book. And with Chat's idea, that puts Gabriel back on the suspect list, right?"

Tikki seemed to perk at this, "You think we knocked him off too soon?"

"Yes."

"... Well I suppose if you had Chat look into it, it could be acceptable."

"Oh, so now you're okay with it," she teased, dropping the subject at the glare she received.

…

Her Robin sent someone into Arkham Asylum that night. It wasn't of much note, except they were begging to get away from him. To be put up and never let out again. 

The video displayed a manic man, clutching the arms of a police officer to protect him from the man in red and black. The officer asked if the guy meant Red Hood, who apparently was the one seen last with her lovely Robin. But the man only gave a hysterical laugh, pleading, "Hood would have the decency to kill me and be done with it. Please, help me."

The clip ended with the guy being placed in restraints and driven away. She vaguely recognized him, but couldn't quite place who he was. The reporter closed up the case, wondering at who this new menace to Gotham was under the mask.

Her Robin… her Robin drove someone insane. Terrorized some man into fearing him more than Batman, to the point of begging for confinement. To pleading for death over another encounter. Just who had her Robin become?

Perhaps, maybe, her hero had fallen. Maybe she'd need a new inspiration, a new hero. Maybe she should quit while she was ahead.

[adam-t-cox]

Traditional Publishing Overview

So, you've finished your manuscript, its all polished up and ready for... what exactly? If you're anything like me after the first 24 hours of elation wear off you'll be asking yourself, "What the $&*! do I do now?”

I've been considering starting this blog for a while but didn't want to do it until I’d finished publishing my own work. Now that I have, I’m amazed at just how much work an author still has left once they’ve finished their manuscript. I’ll be sharing whatever knowledge I gained during my journey in a series of posts in the hopes that fellow first-time authors might be able to save some time and effort during this extremely complicated and often demoralizing process.

So first off: Congratulations! Finishing a manuscript is no small feat and should be celebrated. After you’re done celebrating, the first thing you’ll want to consider for the next leg of your journey is what type of publishing method you want to pursue for your book.

Let’s start by talking about traditional publishing. For most authors, this is the path we think of when we picture our books on the shelves of an Indigo, Coles, or Barnes & Noble. But how does this process work and how long does it take?

First let’s outline the process itself:

1.      Query letters to Literary Agents/Agencies

2.      Rejections/Revisions/Offers of Representation/Acceptance

3.      Waiting…

4.      Agent finds a publisher

5.      Further revisions or changes requested by editor at publishing house

6.      Revisions are approved and work begins on formatting and cover design

7.      Book scheduled for release.*

*There may be additional edits or work requested during the formatting and design process before the book’s initial release. But from what I’ve heard its usually minor stuff.

 Now I’ll be going into more detail on the steps that I have experience with in later posts, but I’ll give you the quick version here. Basically, in traditional publishing very, and I mean VERY few publishers will accept unsolicited manuscripts directly from authors. I can count on one hand the amount I’ve found in Canada, and I never found one in the US. All the ones I found in Canada dealt with children’s literature or non-fiction titles, so they were a no go for me. Which means you need a literary agent to pitch your book to publishers for you.

The agent or agency has their reputation to throw around and likely already has a good working relationship built with the publishing houses they’ll be pitching to. So not having one makes it essentially impossible for you to do anything with your manuscript. Now, this may seem unfair, and feel like someone is intentionally setting up barriers to keep you out. That’s because essentially they are, and for a completely understandable reason.

You are an unproven writer; no one knows if you’re the next Stephen King or Terry Pratchett yet. For every great or even good writer out there, there’s hundreds of not-so-great ones, and you’re all competing to have your voices heard. The publishing houses have enough work on their plates without filtering through this noise on a daily basis. Hence the role of the Literary agent. A liaison between the author and the publisher, with the goal of publishing your work in a way that satisfies everyone involved, while also getting the two of you paid.

So first you have to write a query letter to agents. Which is a topic that will require its own post to explain in enough detail. You will probably craft a handful at a time and wait for responses to filter in before sending more out. You will get rejections, and a lot of them, it happens to everyone. Don’t let it discourage you, you wrote an entire manuscript after all, we already know you can work past disappointments and move on.

Now, if you’re lucky enough to get the hallowed ‘offer of representation’, you will probably be thinking, “Amazing! My book will be published in a month.” but just hold on a second. It’s still going to be a while before you get there. There are likely going to be requests for edits from the editor at the publishing house. Which, if you’ve already signed the paperwork, are mandatory and may not be negotiable at all if you want your book to see the light of day. Then there’s the formatting work, cover designing, and figuring out where in their lineup of book releases your title will end up.

All in all, based on my own experiences, and from what I’ve heard from a few others, this process could take anywhere from 1.5 to 4 years to complete.

“Up to 4 years?!” I hear you yell at your phone or computer screen. Yes, it could easily take that long. Finding a literary agent alone could take 1-2 years, especially if you are working full or part-time while pursuing this. Also, you are likely a first-time writer, and the publishing house is taking a gamble that your title will sell. It’s not guaranteed income for them like the sequel to a best seller from a well-known author would be.

So why bother doing it if its going to take so long?

Well, there are LOTS of benefits from publishing your book through a publishing house and using a literary agent. Here are some of the biggest ones that made me try this method first:

1.      If you do well, they do well:

There is a real incentive for the people you will be working alongside to help you better your product, your writing, and give you advice. These are people who have worked in the industry for many years and have extensive knowledge of what works, and what doesn’t. That is incredibly valuable.

2.      Professional Editors:

By now you’ve edited your own work about 1000 times right? Well guess what, there’s still mistakes. Trust me … I know. A good editor at a publishing house can really help polish your manuscript, improving the overall reading experience of your readers. Also, they are great at finding the plot holes you are still blind to.

3.      You don’t have to focus on managing your book:

This is probably the biggest boon that traditional publishing will give you as a writer vs. self publishing. Especially if you already have more books in the series or your next stand-alone ready on the back burner. Once they approve any edits they request, everything else is pretty much hands off for you. Sure, you might get an email or a call about some aspect they want to go over with you (Cover design, formatting, maybe another small edit.) but for the most part you’re done until its time for the release and your shameless promotion of your book to anyone and everyone. This means no late nights formatting each individual release of your book (ePub, PDF, Paperback, Hardcover, KPF, Apple Books, etc.), no hunting for artists or cover designers, and no extensive marketing campaigns to manage after release. Just you and your computer, working on your next big thing. This will save you so much time it’s not even funny.

 There are of course other reasons why traditional publishing may be right for you, but these were the big ones that made me pursue it. Personally, even though it didn’t work out for me with my book, I still think it’s worth a shot for most authors. And for the record I still plan to pursue acquiring a literary agent for my future projects.

But with that I think I’ll call this overview done and like I said, I’ll be going into more detail in later posts, so stay tuned.

Have a good one,

-Adam

P.S. The next post in this series will be about the steps involved in self-publishing and some of its biggest advantages.

[gypsydanger01]

THE STORM - Part eleven

Fandom: The Boys (Amazon prime tv series)

Pairing: Black Noir x OC

Disclaimer: I don’t own The Boys, only my OC characters and certain pieces of au plot.

Comments, reviews, constructive criticism, and other requests are always more than welcome!

  Posting new chapters on Wednesday and Friday!

 Mallory

The following day started out cloudy but ultimately turned out to be a lovely day. Unfortunately, though, the pale sun in the sky gave little warmth, and Sarah trudged on towards the local park, hands stuffed in the pockets of her coat.

Waking up in a fairly good mood, she decided to go for a walk, and maybe make a trip to the local park. Children’s laughter grew louder and louder until she turned the corner, and there it was. To be honest, it wasn’t much of a park, run down and covered in graffiti, but children are quick to move past that. All that mattered to them was playing, running around, and having fun.

Sarah looked away and sat on a bench, legs crossed one over the other. She checked the time and flipped open the burner phone she kept for contacting Mallory. After five minutes, at precisely eleven o’clock, she selected the only registered number and called.

“Mommy, mommy, look—look at me, mommy,” a little girl called from the swings, her mother smiling and assuring that she, indeed, could see her.

It reminded Sarah so much of her younger self calling out to her mother, and it hurt. She'd visited the playground they used to go to before the Vought trials, but it had become abandoned, all grass and rusty edges. It was sad how it'd been left behind.

She waited for the other end to pick up.

“Hello?” a voice called out, and Sarah smiled lightly.

She paused and breathed out, “Hey Mal, how are you doing?”

Mallory chuckled on the other end, “Well these knees aren’t what they used to be, but I’m okay,” Sarah heard her plop onto the sofa, “More importantly, how are you?”

Sarah ran a hand through the curly tresses that had been blown into her face.

“I guess it’s decent, can’t really complain. I’m still working as a data analyst for the labs, in bioinformatics…,” she trailed off. “But I heard a slot is opening up for a researcher in the developmental biology labs, so I’m going to try and see if they’ll hire me.”

“Please, Sarah—just be careful, keep your eyes open,” she murmured, “always vigilant, alright?”

The young woman stared out at the children crawling over the playground’s castle, tumbling down the slides, running after each other and laughing out of pure, innocent joy.

“Where are you?”

“Neighborhood playground.”

“I thought I heard children. How’s school?”

“Well, actually well, I’ll be finished with my post doc soon enough. They hired me as an assistant professor a couple days ago, I’m teaching a microbiology class for some juniors.”

“That sounds interesting, it would be entertaining to see you teach. You’re a mix of patient and impatient—don’t really know what that would look like in the classroom.”

Sarah snorted lightly, “Fortunately, they seem to be good listeners, quiet and respectful—I don’t know what I’d do if they were a bunch of little arrogant rich kids.”

Mallory too started laughing, thinking back on the young woman’s training. She was proficient in using a great number of weapons and could easily hold her own without one. In an interrogation room, she was skillful in psychologically manipulating a suspect into confessing or giving up information. She spoke multiple languages and was a natural at reading body-language. She had a good eye for meaningful details that are often overlooked. She was the perfect field agent. Mallory had a hard time seeing her as a professor, calmly explaining a powerpoint to a bunch of students.

“I guess it’ll help you further develop that patience of yours,” Mallory surmised.

Sarah couldn’t help but agree.

“Hey, Mallory?” she asked tentatively.

The older woman stilled on the couch, “Yes dear?”

“Do you remember Dr. Roberts? The doctor I saw for my…” she trailed off, searching for a better word, “for my health problems?”

Mallory pursed her lips and stayed silent on the other end.

“I need to contact him—”

Mallory cut in, “What happened? Do you need to come home?”

Worry laced in her voice, the older woman couldn’t help the string of worst scenarios playing in her head. She knew the danger correlated with the young woman’s plan and felt helpless in being left out. If anything happened to the girl, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself.

 When the dust finally settled, there was nothing left but a crater and a little girl lying amid the smoke and ashes. That’s how they found her: curled in a ball, shivering with her skin covered in soot.

When the perimeter was deemed safe enough, Mallory and a team of experts approached the figure. Alive, yet on the brink of death, the little girl had slipped into a coma, and they were quick to have her internalized in a secured section of a local hospital. Only Mallory and few others had the security clearance to access the small room that held her.

Months passed and the room stayed quiet. Mallory went to gather updates from the doctors once a week. At the CIA they had many hypothesis but couldn’t seem to put together the disaster that had been the implosion of that Vought clinic. She had her underlying suspicions and didn’t trust the little girl who had survived. She had to be enhanced, she had to be a supe. There was no other explanation, no other alternative. And yet, she was the only link that would allow them to piece together the accident. The news had presented it as an explosion due to an accidental chemical explosion, but Mallory knew they were far from the truth.

It was an experimental factory for building little supes. And evidently, it had worked.

The proof of that was the little unknown girl lying in her white, pristine cot.

Mallory would look at her with detachment, knowing the child was probably a victim, and yet not feeling any remorse. She had leveled an entire building.

But then one day, as she watched a nurse report her vitals while tucking the little girl in, she opened her eyes. Afraid and trembling, she looked around wildly and fixated on the woman standing at the door.

With her height and professional attire, she was the epitome of rigidness. Blonde hair perfectly pinned back into a bun. Sharp light blue eyes guarded and alert. The two stared at each other, both with underlying dread and a sliver of fear.

And then something twisted in Mallory. Maybe it was the blatant fear in the young girls’ eyes, or maybe it was the innocent tears trailing down her cheeks.

“Where’s my mommy?”

Mallory moved forward, compelled by some unknown force.

She sat at the girl’s side, “She’s not here at the moment, okay?” she explained softly, tension visible in her rigid shoulders. She had no idea what the little one was capable of, and she didn’t want to find out.

The nurse gently took a hold of her bony wrist, taking her vitals once again. “How are you feeling?”

The little girl wiped at her face, “Sleepy.”

“Okay, and can you tell us your name sweetie?”

She looked up at the strict woman beside her, “Marianna,” she said matter-of-factly before adding, “my mommy calls me Mari.”

As the minutes passed, Mari seemed to grow livelier and more awake, her skin less pale and clammy than before.

The nurse pressed a button on the side of the bed, calling the assigned physician, Dr. Roberts.

“Marianna, I’m going to have to get a little bit of blood so we can have it tested and make sure you’re okay. Is that alright?”

The girl pulled her legs into a crisscrossed position and shrugged her shoulders.

“Okay,” she answered as if it were the most normal thing in the world. The nurse hurried to prepare the syringe and test tube, comparing her to the hundreds of kids who cry and scream in vicinity of a needle.

Marianna watched her sterilize the needle, then looked back at Mallory.

“Can I hold your hand?”

Mallory was left speechless and felt like she should distance herself before growing attached. Nevertheless, she nodded and let Marianna’s small fingers grip her own.

 “Mallory?” Sarah called into the phone, suddenly worried.

The woman was brought out of her memories and focused on the task at hand.

“Why are you bringing this up now? I haven’t heard from Dr. Roberts in years.”

Sarah explained, reciting the story she’d come up with, “I know but I have some samples I took that need to be tested,” she explained. “Discreetly,” she stressed.

Mallory thought about it and let go of the tension in her shoulders, “Alright, I thought something happened with you.”

Sarah felt terrible for lying but couldn’t see any alternative. “No, I’m doing alright, I just need to contact him for these samples. I don’t know anyone else who would do it. And he’s trustworthy.”

Mallory nodded to herself, “Alright, I’ll look for his number and email—I’ll send you the info by tonight.”

“Great, thanks Mal.”

Mallory laughed lightly, “Please, you won’t let me get involved, this is the least I can do.”

They chatted for a few more minutes before saying their goodbyes with the usual promise of talking at the same time next Sunday.

Sarah stayed seated on the park bench for a little while longer, trying her best to recall details on Dr. Roberts. She’d met him only a few times at the hospital after she had woken up from the coma.

 Mallory was seated on the edge of her cot, answering Marianna’s flood of questions. Mostly, she tried to avoid answering questions about her parents. Mallory’s heart squeezed tight every time the little one inquired about their whereabouts, and why they hadn’t still been to see her.

They were waiting for word on her final results, and when Dr. Roberts finally entered, they both fell silent.

“Good morning everyone,” he greeted, lively energy in his movements, “how are you doing today, Marianna?”

The little girl looked at Mallory and answered shyly, “M’okay”

“That sounds great,” he smiled, “I have your test results here and everything is looking good. Great, actually.”

He further explained certain details and made sure to indicate what medications she would need to take over the next few weeks.

Finally, he rose and excused himself to speak with Mallory. In the meantime, the little girl put on the clothes the woman had brought for her.

“She’s really doing fine, she must have some regenerative enhancement as well, because she’s healthier than what she should be.”

“And will the other enhancement manifest?”

“I don’t think so. It seems like it’s linked to the amygdala—the center for processing fear, stress, anxiety, and the likes—" he paused. “The accident took its toll, I think. And when she’ll remember, or you tell her, I think it’s going to effectively shut that part of her down.” He thought about it and added, “Think of it as an emotional wall.”

Mallory nodded, processing the information. The little one might have a chance at a semi-normal life.

“Just follow the instructions on the papers I gave you and you all should be fine. She just needs to be looked after and cared for. It’s going to be a shock when she finds out.”

Mallory agreed and her chest squeezed at the thought of the pain the girl would go through.

She thanked the doctor and headed back into the room.

“Are you ready to go, sweetie?”

She watched the little one scramble off the bed in fresh clothes, a small light blue backpack on her shoulders. It contained some items Mallory had brought her over the course of her stay at the clinic. There was a comb for her unruly hair, chap-stick, some crayons, and a small notebook.

“You remember what we talked about?”

The little girl nodded, “My name is Sarah now.”

Mallory smiled, her usually frigid expression melting away. She reminded her of her grandchildren at home.

“Come on, let’s go meet your new friends.”

Marianna, now officially named Sarah Burns, skipped along with her down a hallway and out of the building. As she climbed into the back of her car, Mallory scanned the premises for any watchful eyes. She slipped into the driver’s seat before looking back at Sarah.

“I was almost forgetting—I got you something,” she said reaching into her jacket pocket.

Sarah’s eyes widened at the Snickers bar she extracted. The little girl laughed and clapped her hands.

 Sarah was pulled back into the present as a little girl ran past her—she felt the movement of air in waves. The woman stood and took her leave, heading back home.

MASTERLIST

Tag list: @ateliefloresdaprimaveraa @ellejo @dust-bun @coco724  @proximio-5 @damiminator @omegahighendpro @rpgluvr95 @sweetrabbitteamx

[whatthe-tuckb]

The Tornado Trio | Discord Para

with: @carofms, @beckhcm when/where: the night of the tornado/ Tucker’s Truck

tucker

tucker turned the key to start his truck, the engine coming to life and luckily so did his heat and winsheild wipers. The rain that soaked his clothes made him shiver, or maybe it was the fact that the adrenaline from moments before with caroline were still racing through his mind causing his whole body to tremble. Reaching forward he turned on the heat, "You okay?" he asked looking over at her, a small smile finding his lips. "I haven't heard from Beck.." Tucker said pulling out onto the road which now had more than an inch of water. "I'm worried he usually hits me back quick..." he chewed his lip as he drove turning up the wipers another speed. "You up for a rescue mission?" he turned to her, a twinge of a smirk peaked the corner of his mouth. She was his adventure partner. "I'm going to drive down some streets check some places he could be. I hope he's already at Blue's party but part of me feels like he's off being the main character somehwere knowing him."

caroline

getting into the car was the first time caroline noticed she was freezing. the south carolina heat didn't have much of a match on the cold rain that soaked her clothes, and she mirrored his shiver in the car. a smile was tugging at her lips but for some reason she couldn't make eye contact with tucker right now. "i'm good," she responded, lifting her hands to the heat. finally she lifted her eyes to look over at him, concern growing on her face at the mention of beck. "you know me. of course i'm up for it. let's go find the idiot." she responds jokingly, shifting her gaze to the front window and throwing her feet up on the dash. she stifles a laugh at his comment. "i wouldn't be surprised in the slightest. he's probably -- wait, stop the car, i think i see him!" she shouts, pointing at a figure that resembled their friend.

𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐤

beck is walking back and forth on the curb as he watches a tow truck take away christian's car.  he's going to kill him, plain and simple. he's going to kick him out of the apartment and then kill him on the streets for wrecking his 'baby'. and then there's the mess with leo.... beck shakes his head trying to put all of that on the back burner.  if he's ever going to deal with that it will be with a help of a licensed professional.  out of the corner of his eye, he catches a glimpse of tucker's truck. he hears caroline's voice and feels a weight lifted off his shoulders, at least he won't be walking home alone in the middle of a tornado- that's one win out of a million loses. he runs up to the truck too afraid to look back at the mess he made. beck gets in without saying as much as hello, wrapping his arms around his body making himself small. there's a deep breath, followed by small wines, and before he realizes it he's crying.

tucker

looking over at care he nods, knowing the heat is good for her he feels his own body start to warm contradicting the coolness of his clothing causing goosebumps on his skin. at her comment tucker chuckles and nods, indeed let's go find this fool he called a a best friend. scanning the streets he was looking off at something when his attention was called to wherever caroline had spotted someone who was either beck or resembled him. Tucker didn't think it would be this soon but to his dismay the familar figure of his friend came out of the shadows. "Well I'll be damned.." he said shaking his head with the lightest chuckle. Stopping the truck instantly he slowed down to a stop, reaching back and unlocking the door. Before he even said anything and busted his ass about how he almost sent the natonal guard to come find him he looked at beck, then over at caroline- locking eyes with her before turning them back to Beck. "Hey man. You okay? What happened out there? I figured you were off being a main character or some shit and having your moment in the rain but what- what's going on.." he asked not sure if he wanted to talk all that much.

caroline

caroline noticed the tow truck before realizing it was beck's car on the back of it -- and it looked bad. as soon as she felt the car door open, her head twisted to look at the blonde, sitting in the back seat, sulking -- as anyone would. but shock washed over her when she heard cries coming from him. she never thought she'd ever see that from him. her eyes met tuckers before watching him comfort his best friend. "was that your car on the tow truck?" she asked for clarification once tucker finished speaking.

𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐤

the back of the car echoes with his cries, each one getting louder than the last.  he doesn't know where all of these feelings are coming from. he is fine. "no!" he screams between sobs,  rubbing at his eyes so hard he can see stars "itschristianscarandhesgonnakillme" he wails so fast he doubts either of his friends can understand what he's saying.  it's getting harder for him to keep a steady breath as a year's worth of built-up emotions pour out of him, "andialmostkilledadogandifeellikeafuckingidiot" frustrated with everything he throws himself across the backseat, burying his face in the seats crying everything out just to get the theatrics over with.

tucker

tucker just sits and listens, the calming tapping of rain against the tin roof of his truck pitter patter in the silence that fills the void inbetween beck's sobs. he somewhat made out what he was saying, beck's words jumbling together in a run on sentence. Tucker sucked in his bottom lip in thought before knowing what to do, taking the truck he moved off the side of the road into an empty parking lot nearby. Putting the car in park he climbed into the back with Beck, stepping between the seats and plopping down next to him. Looking up at Care he nodded for her to come join them. Not saying anything Tucker wrapped his arms around his friend and just held him, not saying a word but squeezing. "You're not an idiot man and a car is a car. It can be replaced you know what can't? You." he said confidently. "And I'll fuck up anyone who makes you think differently." he said his language bold- piercing- but true. "You're a brother to me. I mean that." he leaned his head against beck, wrapping his arms around him and meeting caroline's on the other side. "Who do I need to beat up? Tell me?" he tried to lighten the mood.

caroline

as soon as she got the signal to join the pair, caroline followed suit and climbed to the back, taking a seat on the other side of beck. upon instinct, her hand went to his back, resting it there for added comfort. sure, they annoyed the living shit out of each other — but she didn’t like seeing him like this. the girl allowed tucker to give him the pep talk; who was she to interrupt a couple of best friends having a moment? she gave a soft smile when his arms wrapped around the both of them, joining them willingly in the group hug. “and i may not be a good physical fighter, so i’ll leave that one to tuck, but i’m willing to bully someone if they try to fuck with you.”

𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐤

he supposes all of this affection is supposed to make him feel better however it only makes him cry harder. mostly because he knows tucker is a man of his word. he said  he would go to war for him and meant it,  but how is he supposed to tell him that the person he needs to beat up is beck himself.  because once again he dug his own grave and is now bearing the consequences. he looks up at caroline, brow raised in confusion. she cared about him. that was definitely new but not unpleasant.  he sits up slightly, his weight still resting on the other blonde before he looks up at tucker.  "i can't fucking stop" he cries, "knock me out. sedate me. do something!"

(beck in a gif rn : here) 

tucker

tucker still has beck wrapped in his arms, feeling caroline's arms joining him he was glad that she climbed back to support beck in his time of need. Reaching his hand over to her free hand he found her hand and squeezed it almost as if to say ' thank you for doing this for him for me' and in another way to say I didn't forget about what happened between us only minutes before and that if she was in her head this would get her out of it. Despite all the crazy that was going on with him it was good to be the reason to calm someone else. He'd do anything for Beck and he knew that he knew that. A foster kid, an orphan he had nobody even close to a brother who felt the way Beck did to him or meant that much. He was family. Swallowing he nodded listening to Beck speak, "I hate to do this Beck- forgive me." he grimaced and raised his hand to slap his cheek. "Snap out of it man. You'd want me to do this if you were in a better mindset so don't come for me." he clarified grasping Beck by the shoulders. "Pull yourself together man. Remember who you are. You're not this guy. You're gonna figure it out and fuck Care and I will come after those who don't agree. So tell me. What. Do .You. Need." he blew on his face like you blow on a baby who is crying so hard they need to catch their breath. A cheeky smile crept onto his mouth. "You need too feel but you also need to breath. What happened? How bad is the damage? What do I need to do? Help you hide a body just tell me."

( see attached image for reference of how tucker/care were looking at eachother in this moment : here ) 

caroline

her mind was still racing from what happened earlier with her and tucker -- so many thoughts about what this meant and if he was thinking about it, too. but the look he gave her put her mind slightly at ease and allowed her to compartmentalize that until she knew beck was feeling more at ease. watching them together made her smile -- it reminded her of her friendship with blue. just as their sweet buddy moment was at it's peak, caroline's eyes widened and she backed away just as tucker's hand met beck's face. sitting in shock, she couldn't help but crack a smile. "remember, beck, as much as i hate my parents... they do have the funds to help you out. i'm sure i can pull a few strings and cover some of the cost of the damage."August 21, 2021

𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐤

people who knew how to deal with shit in a healthy way, this would be the part where they hugged and talked about their feelings. instead, beck raises his hand and returns the slap, striking tucker across the face "ouch!" he complains rubbing at his face, " but thank you." he says sounding more like himself. if there was any dignity left in him he would feel embarrassed about the show he just put on but right now all he feels is exhausted. he rubs his nose with the sleeve of his sweatshirt and turns to caroline, "no need to call the big dogs. i'll work it out myself"  a pause,  "i always do."  beck appreciates his friends, honest, if they hadn't found him on the street he probably would've jumped into the ocean and let the tide take him away. however, their proximity is starting to suffocate him, he shifts uncomfortably in his seat and looks down at his hands, "i don't need you to hide a body. i need you to get me a drink."August 23, 2021

tucker

he didn't know what hit him. quite literally and metaphorically. when beck raised his hand tucker's face felt a sting then heat before his eyed widened and he looked at caroline then back at beck. taking a deep breath he held his cheek then started to laugh softly. "Okay." he nodded a smirk of all things finding his lips. "feel better?" he asked at this point fully laughing and rubbing his cheek. "damn bro I didn't know you got that much power behind you." he smiled. Tucker took a breath and grabbed his friends shoulders. "Listen dude. You don't need to. That's what we're saying here. I know you're capable of doing this shit on your own but sometimes people- believe it or not- want to be there for their friends and help take a load off. So you don't have to go all lone ranger on this one okay? Just think about it alright?" he asked, giving his shoulder a loving tap before crawling back into the drivers seat. "Now that...I can do, and quite frankly need after this." he looked over towards Caroline. "Co-pilot?" he nodded his head towards the seat as if to gesture her to come up. Turning over the ignition he started out of the empty lot  "Alright Beck, you're on aux but don't make me regret it." The rain had somewhat calmed down enough that the road to blue's was manageable and luckily the party had not gone too long without them.

[heart2jeno]

▸ 💌 : u:mi is writing … ✎♡

burn me, heal me. | fire prince!lhc / ldh x healer!reader drabble

“it doesn’t hurt to be more careful,” you run your fingers over one of the deeper gashes on your patient’s forearm, only recieving a hum in response as the skin knits together beneath your touch, “i mean it, your highness.”

“yeah well,” fire prince!donghyuck’s speech slowly comes back to him, as the pain dulls with each trace that your finger draws over his skin. he watches your healing magic bleed through your fingertips and dance across his wounds, leaving no trace of the injuries ever being there in the first place.

he always enjoyed the sensation of a healer’s touch on his skin and, though he doesn’t dare imagine what would happen if you were to ever find out, likes your touch especially. “it’s only training. and, besides, in actual battles, we’ll have to take risks.”

the burner prince knows that your concern comes from a strictly professional perspective but he often finds the young boy in him hoping that maybe even the smallest part of you worries about him for a different reason—and he hopes this narrative isn’t completely outlandish. he’s commanded war generals and defended his kingdom’s borders from invasion yet it seems that not even the hottest violet fire that he could weild would be able to melt your cold and distant disposition, no matter how many visits he makes to your infirmary.

he clenches and unclenches the hand of the arm that rests on your lap, his gaze shifting to one of your dainty hands encircling his wrist while the other closes up his injuries, “and besides,” his eyes lift to your face, watching how your eyelashes move like butterfly wings whenever you blink and how your eyes concentrate on his wounds, how could someone so beautiful be so painfully unaware? “i’ll always have you to take care of me when i’m in trouble, right?”

“that’s my duty, your highness” you say quietly, meeting his gaze through your lashes; using his title which, like the colours he wore and the metal bracelet glinting in the light of the infirmary, is yet another reminder of his status. he is the crown prince, the next fire-wielding heir to the throne—and he shouldn’t be associating with one of the royals’ lowly healers.

before anymore can be said, you release his wrist and nod curtly. donghyuck mirrors you, as you stand, and you’re forced to look up at his face as you address him, “you’re recovered. i advise you to stay well-rested and try not to throw yourself at trouble, at least for a few days. take care, your highn—”

“donghyuck,” he cuts you off, “call me donghyuck.”

although you had sworn to keep your head down and stay inconspicuous, it became even more difficult with every passing day; the crown prince would show up at the infirmary, drenched in sweat from his training session, every day without fail, and insist that you were the one who tends to his wounds.

if rumours were to spread around court, you weren’t sure what you would do. but for now... who would you be to turn away the prince and his order?

“take care,” you repeat, the corners of your mouth quirking up and hinting at a smile, “donghyuck.”

[gothic-safari-clown]

The Mind’s Power Over the Body

Part 20: Home

Story summary: They only ever had each other. It had been that way since high school, ever since Elianna transferred to dreary Arlen and took Jonathan under her wing. They go separate ways for college, and when they're reunited at Arkham Asylum professionally, Elianna comes to find that they've both changed during their time separated. Can she look past the promise of danger and stay by Jonathan's side as they slide further and further into the darkness while she grapples to come to terms with the truth about herself? Can she accept what needs to be done in order to hold onto the only person who holds any meaning in her life? This is a very self-indulgent AU that draws from several different canons of the DCU and ignoring others, starting in the Batman Begins Nolanverse. This will follow the plot of the movie, although the timeline has been very slightly tweaked.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 / Part 19

Word count: 1827

El heard the front door unlock from the kitchen, and happily oblivious to the precarious status of her wellbeing, she waited quietly for Jonathan to come in and greet her. She had to make sure that the water didn't boil over anyway.

She only got an inkling that something might be wrong when the door slammed shut, and Jonathan rushed into view, looking slightly disheveled. He hadn't even put down his briefcase at the door.

Before she could inquire as to what was wrong, the briefcase was carelessly tossed onto the dining table, and Jonathan had locked her in a tight embrace, pressing a firm kiss into her hair.

"Woah, hi," she squeaked, hugging him back. "What happened? Is everything okay?" She felt the deep sigh as his body relaxed, and he stepped away again, smoothing down his tie as he regained his composure. Registering a few seconds later that she had asked a question, he nodded and raked his fingers through his hair to push it off of his forehead.

"Yeah, yeah, everything is fine." His heart was only just slowing to a regular rate.

She's safe.

Yeah, I told you. I can't believe how whipped you are, Jonny.

"Why didn't you answer your phone? I've been calling you for hours."

"Oh, I forgot to plug it in last night, so it died at work." She replied casually, still entirely unaware of the panic she had caused. "I had to go grocery shopping before I came home, and it's been charging in the bedroom since I got back; I must not have heard it." She turned back to the stove to give the boiling pasta a quick stir and check on the sauce on the other burner. "Are you sure everything is alright?"

Jonathan moved to stand against the counter next to her, needing to be near her still. "I had to see Falcone today."

"Oh? How was that?"

"Not good. He tried to threaten me into letting him into the operation, and when that didn't work, he...talked about you. I thought maybe he had already given orders, and I had to oversee the shipment as soon as possible to get it finished in time."

"Ah," El frowned, suddenly understanding the trouble. "So when I didn't answer the phone..." Jonathan nodded. Pasta still undercooked, El replaced the pot lid before turning back to the man next to her. "Well, I'm sorry for making you worry, love, but I'm okay." She smiled and stretched up on her toes to kiss his cheek. "Besides, nobody is taking me away from you without a fight. Speaking of which," she plucked a stray burlap thread off of his shoulder, "what happened here?"

Jonathan kicked himself mentally. How had his run-in with the Batman already slipped his mind?

"Scarecrow and I have had an eventful day." He said, suddenly exhausted, pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses.

"I'll tell you what, why don't you go change out of your work clothes while this is finishing up, and you can tell me about it while we eat." He nodded but hesitated to walk away, which made her chuckle. "Nothing is going to happen to me if you leave the room for a few minutes. Go on." She pushed on his arm gently, which finally coaxed his weight off the counter.

He was still hesitant to leave the room, but he knew that she was right and obeyed, ignoring Scarecrow's continued snickering. He redressed as quickly as he could, hell-bent on returning to the kitchen fast. Of course, she was still there at the stove when he came back, switching off the burner.

Unfamiliar with normal relationships, Jonathan didn't fully understand his impulses, but he was so exhausted from the events of the day that he didn't have the energy to fight them. Before El could pick up the pot to drain the water from the pasta, he locked his arms around her from behind and dropped his forehead to rest on her shoulder.

"Jonathan..." her voice was laced with soft concern, and she raised her hand to rest on the back of his head. "You were really worried about me, weren't you, love?" Her tone was actually serious now, upset that Jonathan was upset. He didn't answer, just staying where he was. "I'll leave my ringer on from now on; I remember what this feels like." He nodded slightly in acknowledgment. "Come on, sweet, let me finish this up, and we can go sit on the couch while we eat. Up, come on," she coaxed gently, and Jonathan finally straightened up, allowing El to drain the pasta and serve them each a plate.

"So you and Scarecrow had an eventful day," she recalled as they settled onto the couch. "Tell me about that."

Dinner was soon forgotten as Jonathan began to recount their run-in with Batman.

"You set him on fire?" She asked incredulously. When Jonathan looked at her, he expected to see shock, maybe horror, but no. What he saw instead was a genuine, thrilled amusement that he had tried to burn a man alive. "That's hilarious. You set Batman on fire."

See, she thinks I'm funny.

"Scarecrow thinks so too."

"Mm, that's probably a bad sign for me," she said casually, returning her attention to her food. It seemed she had finally given up on feigning morality. Took her long enough.

"Yeah, probably, but you've made it this far." She hummed in response.

"So," she started slowly, wanting to address the initial problem, "Falcone?" Jonathan frowned, disliking the reminder that he now had something that could be leveraged over him. Not that he would give it up for the world, but if people were going to use Elianna to threaten him, then something would have to be done about that. Perhaps Falcone could serve as a warning.

Then again, maybe that had been the wrong decision. The old man's sudden mental break could draw suspicion. While it was true that they had been dumping the toxin into the water mains for weeks, the job would be cleaner if they didn't draw too much attention to themselves. And in one moment of anger and weakness, Jonathan had thrown away that advantage.

"I may have overreacted to that. We'll have to be careful about the project until it's ready to go. It should only be another few days."

"Overreacted?" El asked quizzically. "What did you do, gas him?" She was answered with silence and knew that she had guessed correctly.

She was sure that she was supposed to be upset, maybe a little annoyed with him for endangering such a delicate operation, but she couldn't help but feel a little flattered instead. He had done all of that for her?

Done eating, she placed her empty bowl on the coffee table and scooted closer. "He must have said something pretty bad about me to set you off like that." Jonathan's brow furrowed, remembering what Falcone had implied.

"It was...gross." For lack of a better word. He looked at her to find her smiling at him. "And no, I'm not going to tell you, so don't ask."

"I wasn't going to. I just think it's sweet that you did that for me," she said matter-of-,factly and kissed Jonathan's cheek. "Mostly, I'm just curious, would that have been your normal reaction, or was that just because the nature of our relationship changed?" She grinned as he blushed lightly.

"Probably the second one." He closed his eyes in embarrassment and pinched the bridge of his nose again. "Either way, it was an overreaction. It's going to draw attention."

"Oh, who cares. There are only a few days left. Hey, that reminds me, I wanted to make a mask."

"We can just get you one from a hardware store; that should be easy-"

"No, I mean like," she sighed as she gathered her thoughts. "Like, you and Scarecrow have yours, and it's like a character almost. When people see it, they'll know who it is. It's your brand. I want something like that."

It was a fair point, Jonathan decided. And why shouldn't she get to have one like that? "Alright, what are you thinking?"

"Why, thank you for asking, love." She sat up straight as she began to present her idea. "When I was thinking about it, I asked myself, 'what are the most memorable silhouettes of all time?' There are so many to choose-"

"El, please, I've had such a long day." Jonathan almost felt bad interrupting. He knew how much she loved doing dramatic speeches, but he wasn't sure he had the patience for it this time.

"Alright, love, sorry." She raised his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. "Anyway, I was thinking something like a plague doctor. I feel like it would match the scarecrow in energy; it's sort of mysterious and technically meant for good, but it's become a sort of a classic horror icon." Jonathan nodded, agreeing with her line of thinking.

"Yeah. It might be a little tricky to pull off in such a short amount of time, but I think that's a good idea." Her face lit up. "We'll need a gas mask to rig into it, a pattern, and a stiff enough material to keep the shape."

"No problem. You know me, I started making my own Halloween costumes at like, ten, I can take care of it. In fact, I kinda already got all of the materials." Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "I made a pit stop between work and the grocery store. I just need a sewing machine. I was going to ask Harley if-"

"No need, I have one." They sat in silence for a moment.

"What?"

"I mean, Scarecrow does. He insisted on making the mask himself. Apparently, I was making it too neat, so he commandeered it."

"Wow, that actually makes a lot of sense," El nodded. "I don't know where I thought the mask came from, but yeah, that sounds right."

"Why don't I go get it out of storage so you can start?" El nodded excitedly, and in just a few short minutes, they had her set up at the kitchen table to get to work. Jonathan's night quickly went from a prolonged panic attack to something warm and comforting. Watching El work and helping her take measurements, and teasing her theatrics slowly helped him feel normal.

Seeing her power ahead with her ideas and devotion to their future life, unimpeded by the threat against her, brought a sense of security in a way that he had never quite felt before. While she worked, he came up with and solidified a plan to provide them with protection for the next few days at least, but it would have to wait for tomorrow. In the meantime, he contented himself with wiling away the time in the kitchen with his paramour, letting the rest of the world fall away.

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Somebody Sweet to Talk To ❁︎ 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

Pairing: Harry Osborn x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 6k

Gif credit: @mayahawkes

Summary & Warnings || Series Masterlist

Extra warning for this chapter: reader shows some signs of anxiety/mood changes.

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐨

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐨

❁︎ ・・・・・❁︎ ・・・・・ ❁︎ ・・・・・❁︎

Monday arrived too soon, and you dreaded it more than any other week from the school year. Entering the library, you had walked directly toward your usual table and took your laptop and headphones out in order to do homework but everyone around you was staring, almost impatiently, and it was extremely distracting.

It didn’t matter if you finished early or not, Tony had given you the entire week free and changed your working schedule to only Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday unless there was too much to do or emergencies. Seeing as it was better than not having a job at all, you didn’t dare fight him when you knew he was trying to favor you.

The therapy thing... that was different. Maybe you had taken advantage of the fact that Tony and Bucky were mentally ill too by reminding them how cruel medical professionals tended to be toward their patients and even more so when the patient was a fat woman, and maybe you could’ve approached the topic in a more neutral way to not make them feel so damn guilty; yet you didn’t think about it at that moment, too scared of going back to hear that you would never get better, or that you were a problematic person, or therapists simply denying you treatment until you lost weight.

A hand encapsulating yours took you out of your self-absorptive episode. You didn’t need to look to know it was Harry, the slight warmth from his palm that was so different from any hand you had felt on you was becoming familiar.

That was a problem. You spent the entire Sunday going through it and pondering on telling him it would be better to knock it off. You still decided you could tame your newfound feelings and keep faking being in a relationship with him in exchange for friendship.

Snatching your headphones off, you did turn to look at him. He was seemingly analyzing you, “are you okay?” his question was made in a whisper.

“Yeah, I’m just... struggling to focus.” You nodded upward at the now black screen from your computer. You had definitely lost more time than you thought.

“I know, I finished my homework already.”

Looking down at your wristwatch, you realized Harry had gotten there an hour ago. “Sorry, I��“

“It’s okay,” he interrupted, giving your hand a squeeze before moving to store his supplies. “Pete told me you had a tough weekend.”

Humming, you stored your supplies too just to entertain yourself. You hated when people talked about your health without your consent, it was extremely intrusive and made you feel vulnerably uncomfortable. Had Peter told Gwen too?

The answer didn’t take long to come. Fingers intertwined with Harry’s, you left the library to where Peter and Gwen must’ve been waiting for the two of you. The blonde looked at you with empathy, almost pity, and flashed one of those smiles that unknowingly made you feel worse.

Your fake boyfriend must’ve processed it the same way or felt you tense because he ran his thumb over the back of your hand soothingly. He then breathed a smile, making you turn to inquire what was going on. He nodded upward to gesture at the front crystal doors and it was like you could breathe properly again — it was raining.

The smell enhanced your senses as the four of you abandoned the building, Harry’s steps slowed down in contrast to Peter’s hurried ones. You could have cried as consistently as the sky was doing, Harry was being thoughtful and extremely kind to you by allowing you a relaxing moment and you hadn’t even asked for it.

He threw his keys at Gwen, telling her to not wait for you because you would walk to The Compound. It was a bad idea, walking under the rain when the season was about to change, yet you didn’t dare say no — you couldn’t when as much as you knew the water falling onto you was cold, you felt warm inside.

There was no need for Harry and you to still hold hands, or to stroll so closely to each other — both of you knew, both ignored it. Having a friend was nice, someone to go to the movies with, talk about everything and nothing, bake together, walk down the rain in silence with slow strides to relish into the aliveness only nature could grant.

Walking slowly didn’t bother him this time, getting soaked didn’t either. He had never seen the face of a person look younger so quickly, he had never even paid attention to those things before and now wondered why when it was so satisfying to watch. In that case, the satisfaction could’ve come from the fact that he was part of it, not an important one in his mind but it was something. You were starting to relax beside him, the frown you had been carrying since he got to the library long gone as your upper body slumped a little. He had helped achieve that, and for a split minute, nothing else mattered until he thought what would his father say if he knew Harry’s biggest accomplishment up to that day had been relaxing his —fake— girlfriend.

“We don’t have to get in if you don’t want to,” he whispered, almost hopeful so he could be in you relaxed and consequentially soothing presence for a little longer.

“I don’t want you to get sick,” you said, softness oozing from your tone in an attempt to show him you were more than grateful.

Either of you wasn’t wet enough to be soaked, both made the observation in distinct ways. His hoodie, in fact, was wet, just like his hair, but his jeans looked almost dry — your hair looked different due to the water, your jacket seemed darker, and there was a waterdrop on top of your right eyelash that he couldn’t keep himself from wiping.

Dropping your backpack onto one of the sofas, you peeled your jacket off. Harry did the same with his book bag and took his hoodie off. Before he could drop it, you took it from his hand.

He tilted his head. You chuckled, “I’ll put it in the dryer so it doesn’t get ruined.” He blinked rapidly, a nod being the only answer he could give.

He watched you walk away, heart dropping as you disappeared further into the hallway and made a turn. God, what was happening to him? He missed the warmth from your palm already, irradiating into his even though yours was smaller, and filling his entire system with a feeling he had never experienced; a week had taken him to become needy for your touch, that attention you gave so selflessly when he spoke, your wise and poignant comments that you always seemed to finish with an interested question of his opinion, your soft lips that made everything around him fade away.

“Here,” you whispered, almost bashfully. He focused his eyes on you again, realizing he had been staring at nothingness. A piece of clothing was being offered by your right hand as with the left one you made signs at someone behind him. “It’ll fit you loosely because it’s mine, but you’ll be warm.”

Fuck. Harry had never met a kinder person than you. He couldn’t believe Peter and Ned had said you were everything but, it was impossible for them to be talking about the same woman. He took the soft fabric in his grasp, sliding it down his head before slipping his arms in — it fitted him better than both of you had considered.

Peter was horrified to see his male best friend in a familiar blue sweatshirt, eyes wide as he and Gwen went back to the living room after spending time alone in his bedroom. His two best friends were sat almost flushed against the other, you type in your laptop as Harry slanted his head to read whatever you were redacting.

Gwen was worried, she thought Harry would keep his distance after the conversation they had. But now, watching him give you all his attention and hearing him ask about your homework like it was the most interesting topic someone could talk about, she realized there was no point in tearing you apart. Her boyfriend thought otherwise, and it worried her too — Peter, being Peter, was getting obsessive.

When you were done, you uploaded the essay to the school’s interface and closed the laptop. Standing up, you arranged your backpack in the way you liked and then did the same with the laptop case.

“Does any of you want something from the kitchen?” you asked, surprising them.

Gwen nodded, bashfully. “Camomile tea, if you can.”

“Of course,” you nodded too.

Harry followed you toward the kitchen, not wanting to be under Peter’s annoyed gaze that he honestly didn’t understand anymore. Snorting when you started peeling the gigantic orange he bought for you once the kettle was on the burner, he sat on a stool.

You offered him some fruit, the ghost of a smile appearing on your face when he took half of the orange. It was surprisingly tasty, you hadn’t expected that from its size.

Endearingly vexing was a good way of describing oranges, he had to agree. Harry avoided them most of the time because of how changing their flavor was, but now he was starting to think they weren’t that bad — they would never beat apples, though.

Tony poured himself some coffee, watching you comfortably eat fruit. He also saw Harry’s sweatshirt and couldn’t hide the teasing smirk from plastering on his face when you turned to gaze at him. He was happy you hadn’t ended things with Harry, no matter what Tony thought of Norman he knew the kid wasn’t at fault — he also suspected Harry was mistreated by his dad and couldn’t help but be biased.

“Does Gwen like sugar in her tea?” You wondered out loud.

Harry shrugged. He didn’t know a lot about Gwen even though she was his best friend, the blonde didn’t make him part of everything. You ignored him and carried the teacup in a hand and the sugar bowl in another, making him once again inwardly question why everyone thought of you as a heartless person.

And because you weren’t what people said you were, he grew more nervous about introducing you to his father. Norman tended to treat people who weren’t Harry with respect and even empathy, but what if he didn’t like you? What if he found you to be dumb for supposedly dating his son? Harry didn’t want to put you through one of his dad’s weird episodes, but he didn’t want his dad to laugh at him if he said you had an emergency to take care of either.

He saw you try to smile warmly at Gwen when handing her the cup and decided it would be better to warn you the next day when the mood wouldn’t be soured.

“We’re watching Footloose when Pete finishes his homework, do you two want to join us?”

“Sure,” both shrugged and said at the same time. Sharing a look, something that in the week you had been close had become second nature, you saw each other’s brows twitch in curiousness.

Too focused on the movie to pay attention to whatever couple-y thing Peter and Gwen were doing, you sat with your shoulders brushing. Harry shifted to rest his head on the arm of the couch, his hand brushing yours so you’d get the hint. Your head dropped onto his arm as you shuffled to make sure you would squash him, none of your eyes leaving the screen.

Tuesday brought mountains of homework and a scorching sunny afternoon. Wednesday was the opposite, that morning Harry found himself staring at the blue sweatshirt laying on his desk chair to decide if it would be a good idea to wear it again. The fabric still smelled of the softener you used, a custom one Stark bought for you every few weeks — there was a slight sweetness under the freshness of the scent and he marveled at how suiting it was.

Caving in, he snatched the sweatshirt and hoped Peter wouldn’t react like the other time. His best friend was getting distant, he got annoyed easily too — Harry thought him to be jealous, confirming his theory of Peter having feelings for you; Harry also thought himself to be envious of the finding.

Peter always got what Harry wanted, but this was different. This time he had put himself in that situation, almost begging to be thrown to the side when he wasn’t useful anymore. The day was approaching if the pattern wasn’t broken, and it didn’t hurt him because his dad would laugh or because he would probably still see you every day, it hurt him because he had never felt so safe in someone else’s presence.

He took a whiff of the sweatshirt as he slid it on, the memory of the first time he got to smell the scent coming to his mind.

It had been a while since he put a foot in the university. Harry had hit rock bottom, an overdose almost took his life and the worst part of it was how badly he wished it had. Out of spite, because he didn’t think he should let his father win every single battle, he decided to get help. Rehabilitation centers weren’t pretty, nor comfortable, and their usefulness could be up for debate; but Harry learned many things about himself there: his needs and dreams, his potential that he didn’t believe in most of the days, the fact that if he tried and wanted hard enough he could be a good person and a successful professional.

Peter was with Ned outside of the building when he arrived, waiting for someone that wasn’t him. Their greetings were effusive, brotherly, he felt good in their arms when he allowed them to hug him. But the feeling was nothing compared to the somersaults his stomach made when something he could only describe as hot cocoa on a winter day filled his nostrils.

You were dressed in casual clothes, he remembered them perfectly as he swung his backpack over his shoulder. Dark jeans, skater vans, a yellow sweatshirt that made you look radiant even though your eyes were sad. You greeted them three politely and Peter introduced you briefly, after that you made your way through the door and into the crowd — Harry couldn’t stop staring at the spot you had disappeared from, and Ned caught it so he said, ”been there, not even got to try and do that.”

Warnings came. Your reclusiveness, the way you closed off when a loved one did something that mildly upset you and how easily you got upset. Peter said you were like a sister to him, that not even he could get your shell to crack. ”She’s shyer than me, and I’m not even sure if she likes people,” Peter had sighed sadly.

Your career paths didn’t have anything to do with the other, not a single class was shared. Free hours you did share, but Harry followed his friends’ advice because it was simple curiosity and he needed different things, he didn’t need to fix people because he couldn’t.

But now, now he wished he had tried like Ned didn’t. He didn’t understand why he was feeling like that so soon, and he didn’t want to understand — it would be useless. Maybe all this time he had harbored a crush, or maybe it was the particular enticement that only the forbidden could provide, or maybe —just maybe and that was all— he was falling easily for the first person to be unapologetically themselves around him.

Harry knew that Peter held off, Ned always followed what Pete and Betty did, and Gwen was scared of him because of his past. If you explicitly knew about it and had lied when he asked, you were a master at masking it, and if you didn’t know about it he was sure you wouldn’t react badly to the news.

You would probably praise him again for learning to not lash out at people, he could picture your neutral semblance upon hearing all about it as he entered the classroom to take his first lecture of the day and a sigh slid past his lips.

Bouncing your leg, you slid the collar of your hoodie up to the bridge of your nose in exasperation. Harry’s cologne made you sigh heavily against the soft fabric, a part of you regretted having put it on while the other marveled at how the smell had clung to the fabric just by being against his arm. The grey material was comforting enough, but his smell was the real treat and you hated to know it, you hated not being able to help it.

Thoughts of Peter still swarmed around your mind, you still felt pangs on your chest when Gwen sat on his lap or when they kissed in front of you. But they weren’t constant anymore, you were too busy between getting your master’s degree, your wavering mental health, and Harry’s deep voice. At that, you would have to add your job next week, but you’d manage. You were almost as good as Tony at multitasking, writing nomenclatures down while craving your fake boyfriend’s presence would be aced — you even were sure you could get a doctorate on it and the thought chilled you to the bone.

You assumed you were thinking like a teenager — you hadn’t even thought like that when you were a teenager! You had been too lost into your self-hate and problems at home to have the time to behave like a teenager or to want to be one... Not wanting to think about it anymore, you focused on your homework for the day.

A shadow was cast on your notebook, prompting you to look upward. The sight of Harry in your sweatshirt made your heart skip a beat. “Peter left early,” he whispered to not be kicked out of the library, cellphone in hand. “He took my car.”

You nodded, aware of his eyes being on you. “I’m almost done.”

“Want me to ask for an Uber?”

“I can walk,” you assured him, scribbling down the answer you were halfway through. Gloomy days had never bothered you, they were common for you.

You waved at Ned goodbye as you walked across the hallway, the shorter man lifted an eyebrow upon realizing Harry and you were truly holding hands. You had to keep the act up, of course, people would talk about a supposed break up otherwise. You cursed, making Harry worriedly gaze at you.

“You’ll have to carry my cellphone this time around,” you explained. “These pants don’t have pockets and it can crack in my backpack.”

He extended his free palm for you to place the device on it. Sliding it into his pocket carefully, he continued walking.

The first two minutes of walk toward the compound were silent until he took his AirPods out. “Wanna listen to some music?”

“Sure.” You stopped so he could choose a playlist in his phone as you slipped the AirPod he had offered in your ear.

His musical taste was as pleasant as his company, as mixed as his conversation. It made you wonder why Peter and Gwen didn’t spend more time with him. He wasn’t like everyone said at all, it was true he was distant most of the time and even more when he didn’t know people but you found that natural, he had many qualities and peculiarities that made him so unique... you had met many people in your life, you were good at reading them all and you got bored easily of them because of that. Harry wasn’t easy to read, and knowing him meant getting more interested in his intellect and how different it was from the people around you. He wasn’t dumb, and although a genius either, but he was knowledgeable enough in many topics, he had a way with words when he got comfortable and his opinions were quite radical for conventional expectations, he was sensitive and patient, — you utterly adored that about him, much to your dismay.

Humming to the songs both knew, you swung your clasped hands a little bit. Upon approaching the compound your steps slowed down to finish the current song, something that had happened so often throughout the walk that his car was already parked outside.

“You came here on foot in this weather?” A familiar voice screeched as you closed the door.

You stopped abruptly at that. Fuck, fuck, fuck, this was worse than liking Harry. “Dad,” you greeted through a small smile, letting your fake boyfriend’s hand go. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I texted you an hour ago.” Your dad’s eyes were on you, brows lifted in expectancy of an explanation.

Harry handed you your cellphone so you could check. Pressing the button to look down at the screen you found a photo of your own self as a lock screen. It had been taken earlier, and you had to admit he was right when he said he was good at taking photos, the lighting in the school’s library wasn’t ideal and still, the angle was so good you didn’t look as bad as you often did and the way you were looking up —surely at him— made your eyes shine.

“Sorry,” Harry apologized behind you, “I gave you mine.”

You turned around to face him, “didn’t we talk about... that?”

He nodded, taking his cellphone from your hand and placing yours instead. “We said I wouldn’t put (Your Favorite Artist) in a plaid shirt as a lock screen.”

“We said you wouldn’t put me.”

“We said you wouldn’t send me a photo of yours to put, never that I couldn’t take it and put it.”

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, you nodded. He was right, you should have been more specific. The short conversation wasn’t helping your case, now your dad knew something was going on between you two and you didn’t want him to; it was fake, and you didn’t want to introduce your dad to a fake boyfriend when the relationship wouldn’t last more than a few weeks more because of its nature. To be fair, it would last only a few weeks even if it was real but the point stood, strongly.

You felt so small you could’ve scurried off and in your mind, no one would even realize. Both men stared at each other with curiosity, your dad was trying to intimidate Harry and it would have worked if he hadn’t been Norman Osborn’s son.

Gwen, God bless her, cut through the slight tension. “Your dad was telling us you liked to play doctor as a ki—“ the blonde’s eyes widened as she stood in front of you when your dad moved out of the way to look at her as she spoke, the sight of Harry’s attire wasn’t one she had expected. “Did you wear... your girlfriend’s clothes to school?”

Harry cleared his throat, “out of coincidence.” He nodded to make emphasis, avoiding looking at anyone in particular.

Peter called for Harry. “Can I talk to you in private, Har?”

The tallest young man nodded, casting you a sideways glance. You blinked rapidly, too nervous suddenly. There was nothing wrong with sharing clothes, and Peter knew the reason why you had lent Harry a sweatshirt in the first place — why did you feel like you’d get an anxiety attack at any moment?

Peter leaned against the closed door, crossing his arms against his chest — he knew Harry wouldn’t be intimidated, but he had to get the point across of how serious the topic would be. Harry lifted his eyebrows, signaling for Pete to start talking.

“What are you doing, Harry?” Harry just stared at his best friend. Peter set his jaw. “I told you to stay away from her, and now you’re wearing her clothes to school!”

“She’s my girlfriend,” Harry defended his actions. “You share clothes with Gwen, why can’t I share clothes with (Y/N)?”

“That’s not the point! The point is you shouldn’t be dating her.”

’Here we go again’ Harry thought. Peter had annoyed him with that every time he stared at you, even when he didn’t do it on purpose. “Why, Peter? I’m not forcing her!”

“Because it’s weird! You’re like my brother and she’s like my sister, I know the two of you very well and I know you’re not right for each other.”

Harry huffed, pinching his nose to keep himself from rolling his eyes. “You and Gwen keep saying that but you never say why!” He exploded. “Peter, I adore you, man, but only (Y/N) and I know how our relationship is like.”

“I’m worried,” Peter hurried to explain. It was clear he didn’t mean to offend Harry. “Maybe at least take it slower? She needs a lot of patience, more than we can give her.”

Harry didn’t really get why Peter was telling him the same Gwen did days ago, but he nodded in understanding. His best friend pushed himself off the door and opened it, letting him out of the room first.

The living room was dead silent. Harry observed you weren’t there, but your belongings were. Gwen nodded upward, toward the hallway you had guided him through after your first ‘date’. Seeing him tilt his head, she withdrew her cellphone. His own device buzzed in his jean pocket.

Backyard

He found you with your back against the wall, cornered near the outdoor table. As he got closer , he saw the slight shake of your upper body. Harry silently sat beside you, trying not to stare too much so you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. From the corner of his eye, he caught the tremble of your lip and how you bit down into it — he hated that you were trying not to cry in front of him.

You were angry. Gwen had tried to apologize for her impressed state but it was of no use, your dad asked why didn’t he know about your boyfriend which angered you, he hadn’t called in a month — how could you say anything if he didn’t contact you? Your cold answer had been that the relationship was very new, but instead of moving on your dad had to make a comment about how it seemed like it had been longer.

It was like everyone was trying to decide how you should live your life or how you should develop your relationships. You understood that it looked like Harry and you were moving fast, but it wasn’t real — it wasn’t real and it bothered you which made it more fucked up.

The cataclysm was the inquiry that came before that. Your dad had asked if you were happy, prompting Gwen and Tony to perk up to stare at you. All that focus on you had made you nervous, so you explained you were comfortable. It hadn’t been enough for your dad who insisted on speaking about your happiness.

You hadn’t expected him to push it, and you didn’t know where the question had come from when he implied the relationship was too volatile due to its newness. His severe look as he reminded you how fast you were moving had been too shocking, and so you exploded, done with the stupid conversation already, saying you didn’t know if you had ever been happy.

Your own comment had dawned on you like an ice-cold water bucket poured harshly onto the head. It had soaked you in sudden anguish, adding itself to the list of things that chilled you to the bone although this one felt deeper, it seeped into every fiber of your being and still had enough composition to leak in the form of tears.

Harry got closer to you, wrapping an arm around you to pull you even closer. “It’s okay,” Harry murmured. His free hand slid up to trail up and down your back.

You shook your head, it was everything but okay. You didn’t dare to tell him and prayed for the first time in years that no one in the living room had.

The memory of the last time you prayed only worsened your state. You did the only thing that came to your mind and threw your arms around his shoulders, with your face hidden in the crook of his neck as you continued crying.

He massaged the nape of your neck softly with the hand that had been on your upper back. Harry wasn’t very good at consoling people, he was only doing what he would’ve liked someone to do with him. Feeling you sob, he tightened the arm around you to muffle your cries.

“Harry, let me calm her down,” Bucky, whom Harry hadn’t heard come outside, muttered, “she can get angry and it’s not—“ he interrupted himself when the young man shook his head.

Your hands started shaking at Bucky’s words and Harry didn’t think to let you go would help. He realized that when Gwen told him you had deep issues she had meant anger issues or something of sorts by the way Bucky was staring at your back as if you would explode at any second.

Slowly shifting to a kneeling position on the concrete, he flushed your body to his, your face fell onto his shoulder and slid to his chest. He rocked you lightly, only enough for the movement to be processed by your brain without startling you. He knew it would work, he had seen you rock yourself sideways a few times.

As your sobs simmered down, the shake of your hands did too and you placed them firmly on his shoulders. Parting from him to sniff comfortably, you avoided his eyes.

He kissed your forehead, shushing you from apologizing. He would’ve done that at least, and the thought of you doing it almost broke him there. He withdrew an arm off you, tightening the other one so you wouldn’t move. Taking his cellphone out, he texted Gwen again so his friend would bring him his backpack.

Gwen hurried to do it, holding it for him to open it.

“There are Kleenex in the front pocket, give me a few?”

The blonde worked quickly, withdrawing the pocket-sized pack of Kleenex and retrieving a couple from it. Harry took them with his free hand, wiping your tears slowly to not hurt your skin. You giggled nervously when he tried cleaning your nose, snatching the Kleenex from his hand to do it yourself.

You mumbled that you needed to wash your face, prompting him to nod as he moved his arm away from your body. Harry followed you inside, telling you he would be back in a few minutes as you made your way toward the elevator to get to your room.

Washing your face wouldn’t be enough. You needed a hot shower and a Xanax. For the second one, you would have to eat something first but that could be fixed later. The hoodie you took off carefully, laying it softly on the bed. Kicking your sneakers off, you peeled yourself off the remaining clothes quickly, desperate to feel clean again.

The sense of dirtiness didn’t have to do with Harry, or with anyone downstairs. The realization that you had never experienced happiness, that realistically your chances of ever doing it were pretty low... it was too much. It made you feel less than nothing— dirty for once thinking you could be normal, have normal relationships like everyone else did.

One thing, out of the multiple ones, you had always enjoyed of taking showers was its sound and how it could be confused with rain if you closed your eyes tightly enough. Opening the shower, you got in immediately and allowed yourself to breathe slowly.

You were getting dressed when someone knocked on your door, presumably to check on you. Hurrying to get into a pair of shoes, you left the walk-in closet, crossed the bedroom, and swung the door open.

“Hi, so...” Harry scratched the back of his head, worriedly examining your face. “I don’t know which soup is your favorite and I can’t make your favorite soup if I don’t know which is it, can I?”

You stuttered, confused by the fact that he wanted to cook for you. “Uh— you don’t have to.”

“I want to, tell me.”

Sighing heavily, you lifted a hand only to slap it down against your thigh and simply told him what to add and how.

“Got it!” He assured, turning on his heel to go back downstairs.

Harry trotted down the stairs quickly, skipping a few steps. He could feel Peter and Gwen staring at him, sat around the dining table to have a better view. It should’ve made him feel nervous but he felt confident he would do it fine, the instructions were clear and he wasn’t stupid.

What compelled him to make soup for his fake girlfriend who had cried her soul out while clinging to him earlier was a mystery. A mystery as scary as welcomed. He was starting to enjoy showing more of himself to you and in consequence to the people involved in your daily lives — a sharp contrast to what he felt on Saturday. Aware of that, he wondered if he should say something about it.

In three days you would be sat in front of his dad. In three days you would be scared off. In three days he would be back to feel alone. He would lose the warmth and scent he liked so much, the complicit looks, the music recommendations, the intellectual stimulation, the hope for everything to be okay one day.

He wished there was a way to keep it from happening, but the odds were against him. His only chance was that you’d be willing to keep faking it, and how fine he was with just that startled him.

You hesitated going downstairs when you were summoned but ultimately decided to do it so Harry wouldn’t feel bad. Gwen lightly patted your thigh as you sat down in a kind gesture that you realized meant she was glad you were feeling better. She didn’t tell you anything directly, but she very nicely started speaking to everyone around the table so they wouldn’t bother you while you ate.

Harry sat to your other side, participating in the conversation and sporadically giving you his attention to making sure you were okay.

“I think your soup is better than mine,” you communicated to him when you walked him out.

He breathed a laugh, looking down so the blue-ish light wouldn’t highlight his blush. “I’m glad you liked it.”

You nodded, “thank you for going through all that trouble. You didn’t have to.”

He lifted his gaze, leaning more comfortably on the hood of his car. “It wasn't troubling at all.” Harry then added, not able to help it, “are you feeling better?”

No, you weren’t. There were so many things wrong, you would have to face your dad as soon as Harry was on his way home, an explanation as to what was going on with you would ruin everything you had built in the past months, and then... then there was something you could’ve avoided — you were sure you had a crush on your fake boyfriend, also sure he didn’t have a crush on you; you were certain he was into Gwen and had the suspicion the fake dating thing was his attempt of making the blonde jealous. You didn’t blame him, even you thought Gwen was perfect.

“Yeah,” you faked a tight smile. “Nothing a good cry can’t fix.”

He nodded, slowly moving his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Harry cursed himself for sounding as unsure as hopeful.

“Have a good night,” you wished him, turning on your heel to get back into hell on earth.

That was an exaggeration, yet you didn’t care because it would feel just like it. But your reality hadn’t changed, you still didn’t know if you had ever felt happiness, you still felt like something was wrong with you, and you still felt there was a piece missing in your life — you had lost so much already that you couldn’t put your finger on what said piece could be nor where could it fit. You just knew you wished it wouldn’t matter.