#my listening habits have been so out of whack since leaving school so interesting to see

[wellenklavier]

tagged by @sibelin and @wednesdaytoo ^^ thank youu

Shuffle your "on repeat" playlist and reblog with the first ten songs that appear!

Nowa Aleksandria - Siekiera

Cold Tears of an Angel - Hoffen

Performance - Tones on Trail

Marian (Version) - Sisters of Mercy

Christian Says - Tones on Trail

Upir - Twin Tribes

I'll Never - Hoffen

Sex Dwarf - Soft Cell

Du Scrollst - Lebanon Hangover

Durdu D​ü​nya - She Past Away

Linked to bandcamp where I could :3 tagging @rivertigo @synthwife @fadgadget @legzeppelin if ya want........

[free-pool-trash]

come off it - george weasley

i wrote this because i was bored and in my george feels :) if you know me irl no you dont

word count: 5k

warnings: swearing, y/n absolutely bullying draco 💓😌, angst at the start for 0.2 seconds, mentions of blood, umbridge being a bitch, kissing 😽 slytherin!reader

summary: george wants to break up just until you graduate to keep umbridge off your case but it comes out wrong. eventually you both agree to keep your relationship on the low until you can see each other at graduation <3 (im terrible at summaries)

this is my first time ever writing for hp so please let me know what you think, id love feedback <3 reblogs are so appreciated

let me know if you’d like more hp stuff

masterlist

(also i dont support jkr if i saw her on the street she’d need new kneecaps <3)

The silence was screaming, the room completely devoid of volume, and yet, you’d never heard anything quite so loud.

He never moved from his spot, perched on the arm of an old grandfather chair, his head hung and his hair blocking his eyes from view, hiding any chance you had of reading his expression.

Feeling suffocated by his lack of dialogue, you spoke up again, your voice nothing more than a whisper to be swallowed up by the silence, “So, that’s that then.”

The quiet in the room didn’t bother you so much after you heard the words that had slipped from your lips, you could find solace in the hollow silence. Relating it to your thundering heart, that was beating rapidly, but the thought that you no longer knew what it was beating for left you like the aforementioned silence; hollow.

“I’m sorry, love.” His voice, as smooth as ever, brought your thoughts back to the situation at hand. All you managed was the weak shake of your head, willing your wet eyes to dry out before you lost hold of what little dignity you had left.

How could you possibly cry? You wondered miserably.

If you had only listened to the whispers in the back of your mind, you’d have seen this coming, foolish girl. You scolded yourself mentally.

“Don’t be.” You told him simply. Regaining your composure long enough to make it to the exit of the room, you spared the boy one last glance, he was looking at you then, brown eyes cloudier than you’d ever seen them.

What would he have to be sad about? This had been his choice, after all.

With a steadying breath you left the room, uttering an almost pathetic, “Look after yourself, Georgie.”

Only when he was sure you were truly gone did he allow his tears to fall, he hadn’t wanted to end things with you, not really.

It was for the best though. Tensions were high in Hogwarts at the minute, with Umbridge’s take over of the school putting everyone on edge. George knew well enough that the pink sporting she devil wouldn’t take too kindly to the prestigious, pure-blooded, princess of Slytherin embroiled with the likes of him. A supposedly lowly Weasley. A blood traitor.

Of course, status never mattered to you, or to your family for that matter. But it mattered to the new headmistress and George couldn’t bear the idea of putting you on the wretched witches radar knowing that he and Fred would be leaving you before the end of term.

He hadn’t expected it to be so bloody hard though. He thought he’d breeze through it with the thought process of “it’s only temporary”, as he’d initially intended. His plans for a temporary reprieve were hushed the second he saw your heart shattering right before his eyes.

You should’ve known really, you can’t just break up with the girl you’ve been completely in love with since third year out of nowhere. Merlin, you’ve really done it this time, haven’t you? She must think you’re a right tosser.

He reprimanded, the words trapped in the confines of his muddled mind.

His sadness turned to anger as it dawned on him, he’d just let you go and for what? Merlin, his mother was going to kill him.

Molly Weasley absolutely adored you, George recalled the first time he’d introduced you to his family. You’d been so nervous, it wasn’t every day a Slytherin found themselves in the midst of mostly Gryffindors.

Of course, yourself and George were just friends at the time. Fred had been the one who had begged you to visit the burrow as a matter of fact.

George cringed at the thought of the letter he’d surely be getting from his mother when she got wind of what he’d just done.

Overcome with frustration, George lifted himself from the arm of the chair and began storming through the stone halls in search of you. The conversation, if you could even call it that, hadn’t gone the way he planned.

He’d planned to sit down with you, talk you through his thought process and then hopefully you’d promise each other to rekindle your love in six months after you graduated.

Obviously that’s not how it ended up going. He’d screwed it up completely, he’d frozen on the spot and suddenly he’d forgotten everything he had planned to say.

He spotted you then, sluggishly moving down the corridor, small sniffles emitted from your retreating form and George jogged to reach you.

His large hand grasped your wrist, stopping you in your tracks, “Wait. Please.” His voice was strained, pleading.

Inhaling shakily you turned to face him again, the redhead tried his best to ignore your red rimmed eyes as he could already feel his guilt eating him alive as he held your wrist.

You didn’t speak. Just looked at him expectantly.

Carefully, his hand slipped from your wrist to your own hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Can we talk?” You nodded wordlessly, allowing him to lead you wherever he intended to go.

The pair of you didn’t speak until you reached your destination. You found yourself standing in the privacy of the astronomy tower, hugging yourself to lessen the chill you felt when George released your hand, you stared at him expectantly, praying that you wouldn’t cry anymore.

“I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did.” He confessed while taking a calculated step closer to you, acutely aware of your habit of simply walking away if you felt as though you were being ridiculed. It was a characteristic that he loved about you, you didn’t take anyone’s shit, including his. Which is why he wanted to keep a close proximity, knowing that there was a very real possibility that he’d say the wrong thing and you’d tell him to shove it.

“First of all, I love you. I don’t want you thinking for a second that I don’t.” He couldn’t quite hold back his grimace as you shuddered and turned your face away, staring out at the view as opposed to at him.

With an aggressive sniff you blinked away the water forming in your eyes before meeting his gaze again, “Then what is this about then?” Your tone was demanding, the cold air making itself comfortable in your bones while you waited for an answer.

George took another step forward, the sound of your shaky voice sending a pang directly to his heart. Throwing caution to the wind, he grabbed hold of your arms, just above your elbows.

“I want to be with you more than anything, honest. But I can’t have you in Umbridge’s bad books because of me, especially when Fred and I will be gone in two weeks.” He tried his best to explain, his grip on you softening when he felt your body become less rigid, although you still shook slightly from the cold.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that in the first place?” You chastised him weakly, your lips turning downward as you realised he was right. Umbridge had been on your case since she had arrived, with being the top student in her house, she didn’t take kindly to your “fraternisation with the likes of them”.

He let out a sigh, tugging you gently to his chest, his long arms wrapped around you tightly. “Because I’m a knobhead.”

His words had obviously been intended to get a laugh out of you and he was pleased to confirm that it had worked when he heard the soft giggle leaving your lips.

You gave his shoulder a halfhearted whack, “Yeah, you are.”

“Are you still breaking up with me?” You asked, voice a whisper, arms tightly around his waist, afraid if you loosened your grip he’d disappear.

George chuckled at that, “I was never breaking up with you, love.” His lips met the top of your head before he continued, “I just think we should keep a low profile for a bit.”

“I hate it when you’re right.” Your grumbled, pulling away from his hold slightly to look into his eyes.

“I know this isn’t ideal… but we’ll get through it. I need you in one piece for our wedding, after all.” He teased, wiggling his eyebrows and causing you to bark out a laugh.

“One minute you’re breaking up with me and the next your banging on about marrying me? I’ll never understand you Weasley.” You reciprocated his teasing, eyes finally dry and shining a little brighter than they had been just a few minutes prior.

George lowered his face close to yours, your noses nudging together ever so slightly as his mouth, formed in a grin, hovered in front of your own. “I’ve got to keep you interested somehow, love.”

With that his lips met yours, his hands sliding up to cup your cheeks when you began to move your lips in unison with his and your own hands tangled in his ginger hair.

All too soon, he removed his lips from yours and rested his forehead on yours. “Maybe we should make up some code words.”

“Like what?” You entertained him, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck as he thought about possible code words.

“Right, how about this? When I say “ Merlin, you’re hard work”” he spoke, his hands leaving your cheeks to make air quotes and you watched him fondly as his hands moved to your hips, “That will mean. You’re bloody incredible and I wish I could snog you right here on the spot.”

Throwing your head back, you laughed, “Perfect.”

Then you paused, thinking for a response and then you bit back a smile, hands sliding to his chest pushing him away ever so slightly, “And when I say “Oh, come off it, Weasley” that will mean You’re a prat but I love you regardless.” A dopey smile crossed his lips.

“I’m choosing to ignore the part where you called me a prat.”

Innocently, you shrugged your shoulders, “You are a prat.” George scoffed at that, pulling you into his chest again, rocking your bodies together and lulling you into a sense of tranquility as your cheek rested against his chest.

He let out a long sigh, tightening his grip around you, muttering cheekily in your ear, “Merlin, you’re hard work.”

A small laugh left your mouth and you looked up at him with a half hearted glare, “Oh, come off it, Weasley.”

*

This ‘keep it on the down low’ plan was to put it plainly: dreadful. Acting as though you and George had broken up didn't do too much to keep Umbridge off your back. What it did do however was have, what seemed like every girl in the entire castle, crowding around your boyfriend in hopes of being the next one to catch his attention.

He entertained them all with charming smiles and false niceties, more often than not passing them over to Fred, who basked in the new found attention.

Not that George was the only one being bombarded with love offers, you had your fair share of Slytherin boys sniffing around you over the last couple of days.

One boy had been particularly persistent though, and it was easy to see it was driving the youngest Weasley twin absolutely mental.

The boy in question was currently sat beside you at the Slytherin table in the great hall, doing his very best to keep you interested in what he was saying.

“I don’t know if I mentioned it earlier, but I’m sorry to hear about you and Weasley.” He told you, his voice uncharacteristically shy.

You supposed you shouldn’t be so curt with him, as far as Slytherin boys went Adrian Pucey was probably the kindest of the lot. With a small sigh you turned to the Slytherin chaser and gave him your best fake sad smile, “Thanks, Adrian.”

The boy cleared his throat and you couldn’t help but notice the flush beginning to form on his cheeks, Merlin he is going to be upset when he realises you're not really available.

“If you ever want to talk about it I’d be more than happy to listen.” He offered up kindly, his kindness wasn’t necessarily out of the ordinary, the pair of you had always been friendly with each other, but your perception told you that Adrian was definitely hoping for something a little more than friendly to come of this situation.

Giving him another small smile you nodded your head, deciding to cut the poor boy some slack, “I appreciate that. It’s been pretty strange honestly, feels like every girl in school is lining up to take my place…” You trailed off, eyes landing on George who was sat at the Gryffindor table, a fifth year Hufflepuff girl sitting way too close to him for your liking, twirling her hair and you let your eyes roll at the sight.

Adrian followed your gaze before giving you a sympathetic look, “He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that left you at that, you returned your gaze to him, giving him an expectant look, “You seem more upset than I am.” You pointed out, trying not to smile at the furrow in his brow.

Adrian looked away from you towards George who was now laughing with Lee, the Hufflepuff girl now long gone, shrugging his shoulders lightly he began to speak his eyes never leaving the red headed Gryffindor, “The pair of you were great together. I just don’t see what he could possibly want that you couldn’t offer… if you ask me he’s a right idiot for letting you go.”

George was looking in your direction now, his jaw set in a tight clench as he watched Pucey playfully bump his shoulder against yours. Why on earth were you smiling at something Adrian Pucey said?

You caught his gaze from across the room, sending him a sad smile then turning back to the Slytherin beside you, keeping in character as you were very aware of Umbridge’s eyes on you and what she would consider an eligible bachelor.

“Yes well, you know how Gryffindors are. Don’t often think before they act.” You told him, pushing yourself away from the table and collecting your things.

Adrian nodded in agreement, quickly standing up too, “Um, I was wondering if you were after a new potions partner?” He asked quickly, voice shaking ever so slightly with nerves.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you glanced towards George- your usual potions partner desperately, turning back to Adrian you reluctantly nodded your head, you’d need a new partner in a week or so anyway. “Sure.”

Seeming pleased with your answer the brown haired boy sat back down and smiled happily as he watched you leave the hall.

The evening was drawing to an end as you found yourself on the balcony of the astronomy tower, eyes set on the sunset, your body leant comfortably on the railing in front of you.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the future Mrs. Pucey.” Came the voice you’d recognise anywhere, his tone teasing.

Without looking away from the view you chided him playfully, “Don’t be jealous, Georgie. Or should I say Hogwarts’ most eligible bachelor?”

You let out a content sigh as George wrapped his arms around you from behind, leaning his chin on your shoulder and placing a delicate kiss to the curve of your jaw, “I quite like that title. But I’d prefer to be known as your future husband.” He shot back cheekily, placing a flurry of kisses against your neck making you giggle joyfully.

As you threw your head back, your laughter was silenced by his lips catching your own in a passionate kiss, his hands moving to your hips to flip you around to face him, your back pressed against the railing now as you looked up into his eyes.

“That’s all I’ve been thinking about all day.” He admitted, his hands sliding up and down your sides gently as you slid your own around his shoulders.

You hummed approvingly, pulling him towards you and placing your lips against his again, tongue moving against his as his hands gripped your hips. When you pulled away, he chased your lips, pressing short kisses to them while simultaneously pressing his body closer to yours.

“Bet Pucey wouldn’t be able to kiss you like that, eh?” George smirked cockily and you let out a breathy laugh.

Matching his energy, your hands slipped up his neck and you let them get tangled in his hair, you raised an eyebrow, “I could always go and find out… how much are you willing to bet, Weasley?” At your challenge, his lips returned your neck, dragging along the sensitive skin and making your stomach flip.

George’s lips paused right at your ear, his voice gruff and low as he whispered, “No amount of galleons would tempt me if it meant you’d be kissing that git, darling.”

“Stop, you’ll make me swoon.” You joked dryly, tugging softly on his long hair causing him to detach from your neck.

His forehead met yours as the sun finally retreated, leaving just you, George and the stars in the darkness of the tower.

“You know, you could always run away with me. Then we could go back to snogging whenever we want and that old cow wouldn’t be able to punish either one of us for too long.” You could tell he wasn’t truly joking despite the tone of his voice, you released a sad sigh, running your hands through his hair, your nails scratching his scalp the way you knew he liked.

“Mm, but imagine how incredible it’ll feel when we reunite at graduation.” He let out a small puff of air against your face, tightening his arms around you.

It was then that a worry crossed your mind, would he and Fred even bother showing up? Ron wasn’t graduating until next year, Ginny in two, so there would be no family members there for them to see. But surely they’d show up to see Lee?

“You’ll come won’t you? To graduation?” You wondered out loud, his hands rubbing soothing circles into your hips as he sensed your nerves.

He pressed his lips to your forehead and hugged you close, “Freddie and I wouldn’t miss it for the world, love.”

“If I don’t see you there I’ll hex you both.” You promised, snuggling into his embrace.

George let out a small chuckle, hand running down your hair with a content smile, “I don’t doubt it.”

*

All too soon, Fred and George disappeared from Hogwarts in a blaze of lights and explosions and you couldn’t have been prouder of them. With the ambition those boys had you sometimes questioned how they weren’t placed in Slytherin.

You’d managed to stay on Umbridge’s good side for the most part, you’d become quite close with Adrian too, but to avoid leading him on you’d fed him a story about how you were still mad about George and that you were sure he’d only broken up with you so it wouldn’t hurt you so much when he left, he accepted it far more gracefully than you’d expected and continued to be a great friend to you despite knowing you weren’t interested in anything romantic.

There was only a week left until you graduated from the school you’d called home for the past seven years and you’d managed to make it this far with no detentions with Umbridge and her favourite quill.

You were so close.

It’d been a long day of classes and you were on your way back to the Slytherin common room, Adrian by your side when you’d come across the scene.

Some of the fifth years were crowding a scared looking fourth year, you let out a low growl as you recognised Ginny to be the girl cornered by Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. Throwing all your previous caution to the wind you stamped towards the scene, wrapping an arm around the youngest Weasley’s shoulder and pulled her into your side protectively.

“What do you three little demons think you’re doing?” You seethed, checking Ginny over for any injuries only to find she had tears pooling in her eyes.

It was no secret that you adored the Weasleys. You’d visited the burrow six Christmases in a row and Molly has never failed to send you an owl with a present attached on your birthday. It was also no secret to the family, even George, that you’d both kill and die for little Ginny. When she’d been taken to the chamber of secrets in her very first year you’d nearly popped a blood vessel worrying about her and very nearly ended up petrified while looking for her. Your fake break up with George hadn’t changed how you felt about the family.

Malfoy scoffed, turning his nose up to you, “What’s it to you, you’re just as bad as them. Filthy blood traitor you are.” It was then Adrian stepped in, clamping a hand down on the blonde’s shoulder.

“I’d watch your mouth if you’re looking to play in the final game on Saturday.” The chaser spoke lowly, his threat scaring the younger boy only slightly.

“Oh you’re such a big hard man, Draco.” You laughed mockingly, you’d known him since he was in nappies due to the fact that your mother and his were quite close up until recent years.

Pushing Ginny gently into the grasp of Adrian who had again moved to be standing by your side, he gave her a kind smile and you nodded reassuringly and that was all she needed to go willingly to Adrian.

Now that Ginny was out of the line of fire you squared up to the spoiled brat in front of you, you were anything but intimidated by him, it was high time you gave him a little reminder of exactly why you’d been named the Princess of Slytherin for so many years.

You were never mean for no reason. In fact, everyone believed you’d been misplaced at first. That was until half the student body had watched you absolutely verbally obliterate a Ravenclaw two years above you after he’d called you a slut. You had been absolutely ruthless. Nobody dared to speak badly of you or your friends as you proved on several occasions that you’d not hold back in retaliation. It seemed that little Draco needed a reminder of this.

“You’re so cool. Bullying girls…” You told him dryly, smirking wickedly as he swallowed harshly when Crabbe and Goyle had the good sense to take a few steps back, you raised an eyebrow lowering your voice and forming your lips in a pout, “Tell me, Draco, is your daddy proud of you? Or have you yet to catch his attention?”

Draco fumed then, huffing and gritting his teeth, by now there was a small crowd forming and Ginny had retreated into the arms of Ron, another one of George’s siblings that you simply adored.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He spat out, venom lacing his words, only egging you on further.

The grin on your lips only widened and your eyebrow rose higher, “Oh? Because the last time I checked” You lowered your voice so only he could hear before going on, “He’s missed your birthday for the last three years.”

His face turned red and he lunged. Shouts came from the crowd and you considered your options, were you really, as a seventeen year old, about to fist fight a fifteen year old prat with daddy issues? You got your answer in the form of Draco connecting his first to your jaw and busting you lip. The fifth year being restrained by Adrian and Ron, both of whom looked like they were going to fight him themselves.

The crowd watched with bated breath as you dabbed a finger under your cut lower lip. Noticing the blood that now painted your finger you let out a humourless laugh and tilted your head to the side.

You were absolutely about to fist fight the fifteen year old with daddy issues.

Just as you realed your fist back, a voice that met your ears like nails on a chalkboard sliced through the jeers of the crowd, “What is going on here?”

Umbridge screamed when she took in the scene. And you’d be the first to admit it looked bad. Draco with his hands being restrained by a seventh year and your fist in the air, there was absolutely no question about what was going on.

“Why Ms.(L/n)! My office this instant!” She seethed but you could tell she was biting back that horrid grin of hers. She’d been waiting for a reason to lock you in detention with her before you left.

You didn’t bother arguing with the women as she glared at Adrian, Ron and Draco.

“Pucey, Weasley let the boy go. I will deal with the three of you later.”

She motioned for you to follow her and you obliged, sighing softly when the voice echoed from behind you, “My father will be hearing about this.” He couldn’t quit could he? Seeing as you were already in trouble, you continued walking but turned your head over your shoulder and gave him a look of agreement, “Yes Draco he’ll be hearing, but will he really be listening?”

*

“You have been soiling the good name of Slytherin for far too long, positively whoring yourself out to that Weasley boy.” Umbridge had been criticising you for what felt that hours, watching intently as your hand bled as you wrote.

Not too bothered you let her go on her little rant as you write out your line: house embarrassment, her words stung far less than the growing wound on your hand.

The women took a deep breath as she continued, “A bright girl like you should be putting her talents to good use not entertaining the likes of blood traitors.”

It took everything in you to bite your tongue and refrain from stabbing her with her own enchanted quill. It was funny how you’d ended up in that position really, not because of George but because of his little sister.

“I had half a mind to hold you back. But you’d only get in my way. Consider yourself lucky.” She shut up after that, obviously growing bored of your lack of response she relieved you after another half an hour.

When you got back to the dungeon Adrian was sat waiting for you, a tired smile on his face, “You’re ridiculous.”

“Oh how your words injure me.” You jested, flopping onto the sofa, dropping your feet into his lap.

He patted your shin with a chuckle, “How’s the hand?”

You wiggled your bloody hand at him and he winced, “Merlin, (Y/n)...” It looked at lot worse than it felt.

You only shrugged, a dazed smile on your face, “My only regret is not getting a punch in.”

“That Ginny girl is quite worried about you. Kept saying how George was going to prank her so badly for getting you in trouble.” Pucey told you, laughing lightly when you sighed dreamily at the mention of the twin you loved.

“I’ll protect her.” You murmured, thoughts trailing off, “Did I tell you he’s coming to graduation next week?” Adrian nodded, soft smile on his face.

“D’you reckon a reconciliation is on the cards?” He asked teasingly, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Mimicking his eyebrow movements you nodded with determination, “No doubt about it, mate.”

He barked out a laugh, pushing your feet off his lap and standing up, “Save me the details, a man’s heart can only take so much.”

With a wicked smile you watched as he walked towards the dorm stairs, “So are you going to tell that Ravenclaw girl you fancy her before the end of the week?” He went rigid then, blushing furiously as you laughed.

“How’d you find out about that?” He whined miserably.

Just like earlier, you wiggled your eyebrows at him, “Saw you snogging at the back of the library.”

Adrian groaned, grabbing a cushion from the armchair by the stairs and chucked it at you, “Why’d you ask if you already knew?”

You placed your uninjured hand over your chest and faked hurt before it morphed into a triumphant grin, “Thought it’d be fun to rile you up considering you didn’t think to tell me.”

Adrian shook his head before finally heading up the stairs, “Don’t stay up too late.”

*

The days until graduation flew by and before you knew it you and the rest of your year were shouting in delight, a few even crying.

“(Y/n)!” Lee’s voice caught your attention and you met him with a bright smile and squeezed him tightly when he pulled you into a hug, “Come on, the twins are here!”

Being Fred and George’s best friend, Lee knew all about your fake split, never shy to tell you how utterly stupid he thought the whole thing was. But it didn’t matter anymore because the jig was about to be up. Finally.

Eagerly, you followed Lee through the crowd, rushing ahead of him when you locked eyes with George.

When the pair of you collided it was as if you’d never been apart. Your hands immediately tangled in his hair as he lifted you from around the waist, spinning you around excitedly before placing you down but keeping his arms around you

“Merlin, I’ve missed you.” He whispered lowly into your ear, you pulled your lip between your teeth, and leaned away to look at him fondly.

“Hi.” You whispered, a huge grin on your face.

“Hello.” He whispered back, the look on his face nothing short of enchanted when he studied you for the first time since he left.

Without another word you used your grip on his hair to bring his lips to yours, kissing him softly through your smile as you heard Ginny giggling from her place beside Molly.

George grumbled at the short length of the kiss, settling for holding you hard and leaning down to whisper, “You’re hard work, my love”

With a laugh you pecked his cheek adoringly, staring deeply into his eyes as you murmured with a shit eating grin, “Come off it, Weasley.”

[fbfh]

fangirl’s paradise - leo x reader

genre/vibe: romance, adventure, slice of life

word count: 2.8k

pronouns/perspective: first person present, no pronouns (I think), gn reader

au: soulmate kind of?? also traveling to other dimensions/multiverse

pairing: Leo x fic writer!reader

requested: nah

warnings: you think someone broke into your house for a minute, you feel like you’re going crazy for a minute, questionable pop culture/internet references, you get really embarrased about stuff you’ve written, you say fuck a lot, tiddy as an explative

summary: all you wanted to do was write some leo one shots for your blog, but finding out he’s your soulmate is good too

reccomended songs: havana - camila cabello, where do we go from here - amelie obc

a/n: got really meta and self indulgent with this bad boy, probs gonna do a part 2 at some point, cause this got really long and I started to get tired lol. For clarity, you’re from the riordanverse, but ended up in a world where it’s fictional. also some memories were erased. 

requests r open xo

All I wanted to do was dance embarrassingly and sing along to the same playlist I’d been listening to for the past three days in terrible accents while I wait for my ramen to finish cooking. That’s it. I really don’t think that’s too much to ask for. Plus, I’ve been home alone all day, so it’s really not too much to ask for. I flip over the waistband of my sweatpants while shimmying my way to the kitchen. 

“Half of my heart is in havana oh nana,” I sing along off key, in a pseudo growly voice that makes me giggle. I’m going to turn the corner, make myself some ramen, then finish the episode of love island I’ve been watching. Except that’s not what happens.

“He got tha-” I cut myself off with a scream, seeing a stranger in the hall way. He looks up. I scream more, way more, and choke out, “JFK’s left fucking tiddy!”, because this dude is either the best freaking cosplayer ever, or those tiktok reality shifting tutorials actually worked at some point. 

He looks too natural, too organic. The level of detail and strategic imperfection is beyond conscious choice. There’s no way he’s a cosplayer that broke into my house. Also, that would be a super weird crime. 

Either way, I’m standing in front of a dude who looks exactly like Leo Valdez. 

It feels… fake.

I didn’t really notice I’m covering my mouth with my hand to stop my hysterical scream laughs, but I’m able to get it under control after a second. 

He’s looking at me, eyes wide, examining me, probably wondering why I’m acting so erratically. Or why I just spat out such strange bullshit. In my defense, I’ve been watching chaotic tiktok compilations inbetween updating my blog for like, two days straight. Three other people round the corner. I don’t know what I expected, and it shouldn’t have been a surprise at this point, but I’m sure I’m looking no other than at Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, and Piper Mclean. 

“Jesus fucking christ, fuck me with a chainsaw!” I spit, retreating into the kitchen, reminding myself that while they are my favorite characters - and again, somehow real and in front of me? - they’re still technically intruders. I grab the nearest kitchen implement, a pair of red kitchen scissors I’d used to hack open the ramen packet, and point it at them. 

“Woah,” Piper says, “it’s okay, we’re not going to hurt you.” I count to four and breathe in, setting the scissors back down within arms reach. Hold for seven, exhale for eight. I repeated the process again, watching Annabeth whispering to Leo.

I can feel the initial freak out subsiding. I’m starting to calm down a little.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Piper repeats. Well duh, they’re the good guys. A spike of pure what the fuck shoots through me, as I realize I’m already adapting to the fact that fictional fucking characters are standing in my kitchen. Leo’s ignoring Annabeth, and still staring at me, searching my eyes for... something.

Piper’s brow furrows. I call past Piper to Annabeth.

“Yeah, hi op, what the fuck?” They all have a silent conversation for a minute, and I continue, “Anyone want to tell my why the fuck fic-”

“We can tell you what’s going on, but it’s going to sound crazy.” Piper starts.

“After the past five minutes, probably not.” I glance past her shoulder, Leo’s still examining me. I look away, overwhelmed almost immediately. About 30% of my brain is just an endless loop of ‘ohmygodohmygodohmygod he’s real??? Like,,,, r e a l real????? Aj;dlfkajskdla ohmygod he’s looking at me what the fuck richard’, 20% was still trying to calm down from freaking out so much earlier, so I was at about half brain power for the conversation ahead. 

“Okay, wait. Let me get this straight.” they stare at me in silence. We’re standing in the hallway outside the kitchen, and I feel like a complete disaster trying to process what they’re telling me and not look like a total idiot.

“So, Calypso went missing, and Leo got Aphrodite to activate his soulmate link so he can find her and it led you here?” I’m already smiling. There’s no chance, I can’t get my hopes up. 

Piper continues, “Which means it might not be Calypso.”

“Unless you’re wearing a really good disguise or something,” Leo says. I’m pretty sure that’s the first time he’s spoken to me. I let out a breathy laugh and look away from him. If I try to look at him my brain goes haywire. Scenes from stuff I’ve written about him on my tumblr flash in my mind, and it makes me feel like I’m about to explode. 

“Yeah, the reason we know is-”

“The gods are real, monsters are after you, et cetera et cetera. Yeah.” They seem a little surprised that I’m more concerned with the soulmate part than the mythology part, but I’ve been reading these books since middle school. We been knew.

Piper keeps looking between Leo and me with a weird look on her face. God, Piper, don’t get my hopes up. A knowing look passes over her face and she looks around the room again.

“Gods, where did he go…” She gets up and leaves the room. No one says anything. Between right then and when she gets back should have been in a ‘top ten most devastating anime uncomfortable silences’ compilation. She enters again a few seconds later, a tall hot guy behind her. He has red flowers in his hair and isn’t wearing a shirt for some reason. He looks between me and Leo.

“I see… interesting.” he turns to me and says, “Can you tell me anything… personal about him?” My face flushes. I turn to Piper.

“Sorry, but who the fuck?”

“I mean the only noncanon stuff I know is what I came up with for like, writing and stuff but that doesn’t count-” I sputter.

“Eros.” she replies, “My mom sent him along to help find the right person.”

“Normally I’d be able to tell instantly, but my powers don’t seem to work here very well.” his voice is like honey, and it seems like he’s heavily implying something no matter what he says. 

“Yeah, go on hermosa,” Leo says, smirking, “take a whack at it.” His voice sounds so much more… real than I could have imagined. If I could verbally keysmash, I would have then and there. 

“Hmm… why don’t you try anyway. What kind of lover is he?” the room erupts into protests. They don’t want to hear personal stuff about their friend, I don’t want to talk about cripplingly embarrassing smut headcanons in front of the character they’re about, and he probably doesn’t want me taking a wild guess at his bedroom habits. Eros turns to Percy, Annabeth, and Piper.

“You two, out. You, leave but stay close.” They leave the room hastily.

“Since I’m the god of sexual desire, I know what gets people going. I’ll be able to tell if you’re right or not. ” Eros says. I risk a glance at Leo, who I have a feeling has been staring at me a lot. He leans forward, playful intrigue all over him. How is he not dying inside?? 

“Ah ah,” Eros says to Leo, “you too.” Leo obliges, and heads up the stairs.

“H- okay, uh… he acts like a top, but he’s really kind of a bottom,” I choke out, trying to remember details from past posts, and Eros nods in approval, encouraging me to keep going, “he’s really-” my voice falters, and I hide my head in my hands, “he’s really vocal, like really vocal… uh…” 

“Oh yes, I can tell.” Eros says, and I laugh slightly. “What else?” 

“More? God okay… uh… he really likes hickeys, and-” I choke on my words, still unsure of how I got in this situation. 

“He holds hands a lot in… the bedroom? God…” I trail off.

“The next morning, he kind of… he just sort of stares at you while you get dressed and stuff. I don’t know anyone else who does that.”

Eros studies me for a second. My heart is beating so hard. How long does it take to say yes or no? I’m uncomfortably aware of the distracting adrenaline in my arms and chest and head. 

“Interesting,” he says, then stands up and leaves the room.

What the fuck, is he not going to tell me anything?

I’m listening as closely as I can, and I’m pretty sure I hear Eros say five out of five. I got everything right or everything wrong. Nailed it or failed it. 

Piper speeds past me a second later and races up the stairs. After a few seconds she comes back down. She nods toward the staircase.

“You should go talk to him.” a knowing smile is playing at the corner of her mouth, and I can’t stop one from starting on mine. I run up the stairs, and see him, kneeling on my bed, reading what’s on my laptop. 

Oh god, no. 

He stands up. He’s staring at me so intensely, I look away immediately. I start sputtering out a panicked apology and sit down on my bed, moving to shut the lid of my laptop.

“Uh… I just listen to a song or something that makes me think of you,” my voice gets really tiny at that last part, “and stuff starts to pop into my head. I just keep replaying it, and uncovering more details so I can wr- wait,” I start to look up at him, but can’t bring myself to meet his eyes. I stare intensely at the pattern on my quilt instead. “Did you say remember?” He lets out a breathy laugh, and I can hear the smile in his voice. 

“-of course I never thought you were going to read any of that, or…” His hand is on top of mine, my hand and voice freezing at the same time.

“How… did you remember all this?” my fears are being squashed. He doesn’t sound mad, or grossed out, or judgemental. He sounds… impressed.

“Yeah, I mean, I’m only starting to get back bits and pieces, but you remember… everything.” 

“Wait wait…” I mutter, completely dazed, “so it wasn’t… it was all real?” I feel him nodding behind me, and he makes a noise of agreement. 

“It was genius, really… as soon as I felt like I was remembering something, I’d forget it.” His other hand rests on my shoulder, palm flat against my back. “Only you would think to write it like that…” 

“So… it all happened?” I breathe, my face heating up as I think of the titles marked with a little asterisk. 

“Yeah,” I bite my lip, feeling his breath over my skin. It’s quiet for a second. The mattress shifts and I can feel him leaning closer to me, feel the heat coming off his body. His lips are dangerously close to my ear.

“Want something else to write about?”

Oh my fucking god.

I nod before I finish registering what he said. His free hand moves to my cheek, tilting my face towards him, and my skin explodes with sparks where he touches me. 

Our lips brush.

We both freeze.

Flood gates open. Countless vivid images and feelings and scenarios flash across my mind. It was like watching a movie connecting every fic I’ve written. I gasp-laugh a little, and he does the same. It seems like the visions or whatever that he’s seeing are a lot more intense than mine. His eyes flutter open and he looks at me stronger, more intensely, more passionately than he had before. He lets out a soft, breathy laugh, and presses his lips to mine. Everywhere he touches feels carbonated, and I’m trying not to smile too much. I don’t think I’ve ever been more in the moment than right this second. He pulls me closer, tilting his head and deepening the kiss. I didn’t know a kiss could be deeper than it had been a few seconds ago. His mouth moves feverishly against mine. My arms move up on instinct, one hand playing with his hair, the other tracing the collar of his shirt. He shifts his weight, and one hand on my waist, lowers me back onto my bed. His left hand intertwines with my right, and I smile, remembering what I had told Eros earlier. 

“Estrella,” He groans into my mouth, our teeth scraping as we smile in spite of ourselves, and I get the sense the nickname was an ‘as you wish’ type of thing, from the Princess Bride. It feels like he’s saying I love you. My heart speeds up as he nuzzles into my neck, pressing kisses and little bites into my skin. I think about the nickname I always thought would suit him, the one I kept writing down over and over. Now or never.

“Sparky…” I smile, hiding my face in his hair. He freezes for a second, then lets out that breathy laugh again, his face in my neck. His lips graze my collarbone, and he starts to say something, but the door opens suddenly, and we jump apart. It doesn’t help much though, because he’s still hovering over me on all fours and we both look very flushed. And I’m pretty sure the start of a hickey is forming on my neck. 

“Right,” she replies, “we gotta get going, the door is closing soon, so come down stairs as soon as you’re… free.” 

“Sorry!” Annabeth yells, averting her eyes. Leo and I stumble over each other’s flustered responses.

“-looks bad but nothing… happened… we d- we didn’t like, do anything...” I trail off. 

The door closes.

“I’m coming with you guys?” I breathe. He looks over at me, that unflappable sense of playfulness present as ever. 

Leo sits back, scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah, we should get back soon. Everyone else will be worried once they remember.” My heart plummets. I didn’t know you could go from feeling so incredibly euphoric to beyond miserable in about five seconds. I open my mouth to choke out a response, but before I can, he stands up and stretches a little.

“Do you wanna change before we go?” The question has such a normal tone to it, it’s a little bizarre after all the unusual things that have happened today. The bad feeling and tears at the corners of my eyes start to recede. 

“Of course you are. If you think I’m losing you again this soon you’re crazier than I am.” I let out a relieved laugh, and stand up. I look down at my monster foot slippers and sweatpants. 

“You know where to find me,” he winks before closing the door on his way out.

“Yeah, I should probably change.” He pulls me close to him, one hand comes up to the back of my neck, the other on my hip. He starts swaying us back and forth, dancing around my room.

“Well, if you need any help…” I laugh, and shove him away playfully.

I take a second to catch my breath. Oh my god. Thoughts are still racing in the back of my mind, but I don’t pay attention. I don’t have time to worry about what’s real and what’s not, I need to find the perfect demigod adventure outfit. I throw open my closet, start shuffling through dresser drawers, digging through my shoes. I don’t remember having one or two of the pieces, but after a minute, I find exactly what I’m looking for. It’s the exact outfit I’d always imagined myself in if I ever went to camp half blood. I search through my accessories, grab a bag, and hastily fill it with anything I think I’ll probably need. I turn back to my laptop, and change my blog description to on hiatus. I check my hair, flattening out the back from before, and determine I’m ready to go. 

I walk down the stairs, and everyone’s watching me. I feel like it’s prom or something, which sounds silly since I’ve got on ripped jeans and a backpack instead of a dress and clutch. Leo’s watching me with that look, the one that makes his eyes all sparkly, and he meets me at the bottom of the stairs. He puts his arm around my shoulder.

“Ready to go home, Estrella?”

I have never been more ready for anything.

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Making Dreams Come True

Paring: Kirishima x reader

Warnings: This one’s spicy, so, uh, be warned or whatever if you don't like makeout scenes. Oh, and this one is more leaning towards fem reader, so sorry about that!

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Eijirou's breath caught in his throat as expert hands slid their way down his sides, moving to meet in the center so they could both trace over his defined abs. He felt your lips, soft as they pressed kisses against the bare skin of his chest. The blush on his face burned even brighter as he used his own hands to caress your curves, running them down your back until they came to a stop at your butt, his hands giving you a gentle squeeze. He whispered your name as you sucked on the skin of his neck, grazing his surface gently with your teeth. Kirishima moaned as you bit down, letting your name leave his lips one more time.

Music suddenly floated into his ears, prompting him to open his eyes.

He was still laying in bed, however, you were not there with him. He shot up, the realization of the meaning of his dream washing over him. He silenced his phone, resting his elbow on his thigh so he could put his chin in his hand.

The two of you had been dating for only about two months now. Neither of you had worked up the courage to be very intimate with each other yet. The most you'd shared were two mouth kisses and the occasional peck on the cheek. It wasn't that he didn't want to make out with you, far from it. He'd had his eyes on you since the first couple weeks of school, and he couldn't be happier now that he'd finally asked you out after a couple months of pining.

He just couldn't quite bring himself to work around the fact that he was a bit shy when it came to things like this. He knew you were too, and now what with school and his work study, it was pretty difficult to even spend time with you. The thing you both needed most was time, and until you had such a luxury, his fantasies would have to stay as such.

Kirishima lifted his blanket, taking a peek at the bulge that had formed in his shorts while he slept. He dropped it, sighing as he brought his fingers to his chest, letting the pads ghost their way up to his neck, trying to imagine that they were your fingers rather than his own. He felt a little embarrassed, thinking of you in this way, but he just couldn't help it.

He got out of bed and went about his routine, getting ready for his classes for the day before heading down to breakfast. His eyes roved over his classmates out of habit, having no difficulty picking out the top of your head among the group. It was something he'd done since the class had moved into the dorms, only now, instead of feeling forced to wistfully watch you from afar, he was able to confidently make his way towards you.

Your back was turned to him as you busied yourself at the counter making breakfast. His eyes wandered down to your butt of their own accord, his brain suddenly throwing him back to the moment in his dream where he grabbed and held you. The impulse to act on the memory wormed itself into his brain next, making him falter in his walk to you with the shock of it. He cleared his throat, trying to chase the thoughts from his mind.

The sound made you turn, your (E/C) eyes meeting his. He couldn't keep the smile from spreading across his face as he saw you.

"Good morning," you said, greeting him.

"Good morning." He took your hand in his, grinning at your still-sleepy tone. You weren't a morning person like him, and he found it cute when you were a little grumpy or out of it. You popped up onto your tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek. His face immediately heated up, his thoughts returning to that morning. He again remembered his dream, thinking of your lips against his neck and he blushed harder, his face probably the same color as his hair by this point.

You, thankfully for him, were unable to see this as you had already turned away. Lost in trying to hide the blush of your own, you jumped at the sound of the toaster popping out your bread. Kirishima wondered for the millionth time how it was possible for a person as cute as you to exist in the world, let alone like him back.

You pulled out your toast and began to spread butter over it, searching your mind for something to say to him. You were bad at small talk, even with someone like your boyfriend. You decided on something generic, but you were still certainly interested.

"Did you sleep well last night?" you asked.

Kirishima nearly choked as he fumbled with the twist tie on the package of bread, preparing to make some toast for himself. His blush continued to burn as he avoided your eye contact. "Yeah, you?" He silently congratulated himself at his ability to keep his voice relatively steady as he answered you.

You went on to mention something about having too many blankets and being too warm, then started talking about a dream you'd had. Kirishima smirked to himself at the slight irony that kept encroaching on his morning, listening to you talk as he waited for his toast.

His day went on as usual, his classes and training going by like they always did. He didn't have to do his work study today, so he was able to watch you train. He had enjoyed seeing you progress in your abilities during your time at U.A. Like him, your quirk was getting stronger and you were able to use it with more and more precision with each passing session.

The only thing different about his day, though, were the intrusive recollections of his dream from the night before. He had gotten used to fantasizing about you, especially from back when you'd just been his crush. But it was so much more frequently today. Every time there was a lull in a conversation, or he would zone out a little in class, he found his mind wandering to the imagined sensation of your hands on his body. His eyes would drift to you if you were nearby, furthering some of the actions you both took in his fantasy.

Bakugou caught him staring for the third time that day just before hero training started. He gave Kirishima a whack to the back of his head, jolting him from his thoughts.

"Oi, dumbass, I thought you were dating her already!" he yelled at his startled friend.

"What? We are!" Kirishima answered, rubbing at the back of his skull. He hadn't had enough time to harden, being completely caught off guard by the blow.

"Well then stop staring at her like you did before you asked her out!"

Kirishima sheepishly followed him, getting ready to focus on training.

Once classes were finished, 1-A decided to have a movie night. It was a Friday evening, so most students didn't feel pressured to do their homework due Monday. Most of the class showed up, apart from a few stragglers who weren't interested.

After arguing and then finally voting on a movie, the kids of 1-A settled around the TV in the common room. Kirishima had chosen to sit on the floor and you had followed, leaning against him. You had brought your blanket down from your dorm room and had proceeded to wrap it around both of your shoulders. Your boyfriend blushed as you snuggled into him, pressing your shoulder and back against his chest as the movie started.

Mina saw the two of you and giggled. "Aww!" she said, leaning over to lightly punch you on the arm. "The two of you are so cute!"

You both blushed, you pushing yourself against Eijirou even more to shy away from Mina a bit. She laughed again and left you alone, turning her attention back to the screen.

The feeling of your body pressed against him made Kirishima want more of you. He fought the urge to wrap his arms around you, maybe even pull you into his lap. So far, you were the only couple in your class, so it felt a little awkward to show any type of affection in front of your peers. Neither of you really wanted to flaunt your relationship, being happy to just enjoy each other.

The movie eventually ended, and your friends began to clean up, picking up blankets and empty bags of popcorn. You and Kirishima had enjoyed the movie, but he couldn't help but feel even more frustrated than he was before.

The two of you had slipped out from under the blanket and you were now folding it up, preparing to go back to your room. You seemed to be taking your time, keeping close to him while your fellow students buzzed around you.

Kirishima steeled his nerves, trying to muster the courage to tell you what had been on his mind (at least, some of it. He didn't want to look like a total creep). "Hey, uh, (Y/N)."

You looked up at him as soon as you heard his voice, strangely eager. "Yeah?"

Kirishima lowered his voice so others couldn't hear him. "Do you want to come over to my room for a bit?" He blushed a little, realizing how he sounded. "Not to do anything or . . . anything! I just want to hang out with you."

You beamed up at him and nodded, taking his hand to show that you were ready to go. He led you to the elevator, heading up towards his room. Kirishima stood awkwardly next to you, still holding your hand while you waited for the elevator to bring you to his floor. You were silent while you made your way down the empty hallway. Kirishima opened the door and let you in his room.

You liked his room, despite what Hagakure said. You thought it suited him, and if he liked it, you liked it. You set your blanket down on his bed, unsure of where else you were supposed to keep it while you spent time with your boyfriend.

"So what did you want to do?" you asked him.

Kirishima faltered a bit. Truthfully, he'd wanted to make out with you, but now that he was thinking about it, he wasn't sure how to initiate it. He puffed out his cheeks, thinking. "Uh, we can talk, I guess." He moved to sit on his bed, motioning for you to do the same.

You obliged, smirking. "What do you want to talk about?"

Kirishima racked his brain for a subject, remembering how you told him how hard it was for you to make small talk. He cringed at how long the silence was beginning to stretch. He'd never describe himself as a quiet person, but around you, it was as if he couldn't function.

"Sorry this is awkward," he said after a few seconds of silence. "I just wanted to spend more time with you alone but I didn't really think about what we'd do."

You smiled softly and took his hand, letting your cheek rest once again on his shoulder. "It's not awkward. We can come up with something together."

Kirishima looked down at your face, brushing a strand of hair off your forehead. "I really like you," he found himself saying. It was the truth, and the way it made you blush a little only encouraged him to keep going. "I know we haven't been together for a long time yet, but . . . I just think you're amazing."

You blushed even harder, made slightly uncomfortable with all this sudden praise from your boyfriend. You decided to counter it the best way you knew; by returning the favor. "You're the amazing one. You're such a nice person and your quirk is so amazing."

Kirishima winced a little. He hadn't really talked to you about his insecurities yet. "I don't know, it's not the flashiest."

"So?" you said, genuinely surprised at his suddenly hurt tone. "It's so useful, and you've made it super powerful. I wish my quirk was as awesome."

Kirishima looked at you. "Your quirk is awesome."

"I know, but yours is cooler."

His eyebrows went down as he smirked at you. "No, yours is cooler."

"Yours is cooler."

"No, you."

You brought your lips up to kiss his cheek. "Your quirk is amazing and you're an amazing person," you said, your nose against his burning cheek. "Don't ever doubt it."

Kirishima turned his head so his nose would knock against yours. "I should say the same for you," he whispered against your lips. He brought his hand up so he could hold the back of your head. Your lips met as you finally kissed. He had been waiting all day for something like this and it was finally happening! Your mouths moved against each other, still a little unused to the motions seeing as this was only your third kiss. You wrapped your hands into the front of his shirt, pulling him closer to you. He experimentally ran his tongue over your lips, silently asking for entrance. You obliged, letting him touch his tongue to yours, then going down to explore your teeth. They were flat, unlike his, which intrigued him.

He pulled you into his lap, enjoying the feeling of your weight on his thighs as he began to properly make out with you. You released his shirt, wrapping your arms around his neck to further deepen the kiss, little moans escaping your mouth as his hands began to move up and down on your body.

Eijirou pushed you back for a moment, slowly sliding his shirt over his head at an almost agonizing pace. He tossed it to the floor beside him and met your eyes. You had bitten your lip, looking over him almost hungrily as your hands hovered at your sides, waiting for his permission.

"Touch me, (Y/N)." His voice came out as a hoarse whisper, desperate to feel your hands on him.

"Eijirou . . . ." You swallowed, your face burning brilliantly at his words. You gently caressed his warm skin, letting your fingertips brush over his pecs before dipping down to trace his abs. Next you went back up to rub his shoulders, slipping down to his back where you pulled him into another kiss. You pushed him down, letting his back hit the soft mattress as you hovered over him.

He brought his hands up to touch you through your hoodie, finding your waist through the surplus of fabric and running them up and down. He experimentally decided to palm one of your boobs, making you moan into the kiss. You removed yourself from his lips, trailing kisses on his chin, then his jaw, moving down to his neck. You started to use your teeth a little, gently nibbling down to his collarbone where you began to frantically place kisses everywhere you could, desperate to let him know how much you loved him, how much you appreciated his body.

Eventually you worked your way back up to his lips, allowing for one final slow, deep kiss. You touched your nose to his and buried your face into the crook of his neck. You let out a deep contented sigh, letting your warm breath collect between his shoulder and the pillow under his head. He held you, unable to slow his racing heart nor keep the goofy grin off his face.

"Why don't we do this more often?" you asked, your voice slightly muffled.

Kirishima's smile dropped a little. "I'm sorry, pebble. I've been busy . . . and sometimes I'm too shy . . . . I wish we could do this more often too. Every night . . . ." His voice began to trail off. "I think about you. All the time."

"I know."

Kirishima looked down at you, a little surprised. "Huh?"

"Bakugou." You turned your head so it would be easier to converse. "He told me you were, and I quote, 'making goo-goo eyes at me all day and it's getting really damn annoying, so you should just go make out with each other already and get it over with.'"

"Wow."

"I notice it too sometimes. You're not exactly subtle."

Kirishima blushed, feeling a little sheepish. "Sorry."

You leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "Don't worry about it. I wouldn't have it any other way. Besides, you never leave my mind either."

Your boyfriend allowed the smile to return to his face. You admired it. He had the most beautiful smile you'd ever seen. Looking into his face, you couldn't help but feel your chest squeeze as your heart melted into a giant mug of hot chocolate, complete with squidgy marshmallows.

"What is it?" Eijirou asked, noticing how you were looking at him.

"I think I'm in love with you." Your eyes widened at what you said. Neither of you had spoken the infamous 'l-word' aloud yet.

Kirishima's cheeks reddened again before he gave you another heart-melting grin. "I love you too, (Y/N)."

You pressed your lips together, frustrated at how your sentence had come out. "I don't just think I'm in love with you, I know it, even if we've only been together for a few months."

He chuckled, pulling you in for another kiss. "I'm glad you do."

The two of you laid there for a few minutes, your head resting against Eijirou's chest as you listened to his heartbeat, him running his fingers through your hair. Your phone buzzed with a bedtime reminder, and you pulled it out of your back pocket to silence it.

"Do you have to get going?" Eijirou said, sounding a little sad.

"Yeah," you replied, settling your head onto his chest one last time. "I'd stay here for the night, but you know how everyone would be looking at us tomorrow morning when they saw me leave."

The redhead sighed, giving you another tight hug. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then."

You grinned against his bare skin. "Shall we continue where this left off?"

You could practically hear Kirishima blush again, noticing the way he inhaled a little sharper. "Sure." His voice was a little higher than normal, and a bit too loud.

You smirked, standing. You bent over his face one last time, giving him a kiss on the forehead. "Good night, Eiji."

"Good night, pebble."

"I love you."

Kirishima smiled. "I love you too."

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─────────

Taglist: @basicaegyo​ @xo-sun-storm-xo  @heroacademiafan

[beeexx]

TK writes love letters to all his past crushes, these are letters just for him and he has no intention of ever sending them off. Until one day the thing that can't happen does and somehow TK ends up kind of dating Carlos Reyes, star football player, cool, hot and way out of TK's league. His life takes a sudden turn and it will be a year he won't forget anytime soon.

But this is high school, and it's fun and messy and heartbreaking and all over the place all at once, so TK's up for a ride for sure, and he isn't sure it's just the good kind.

The To all the boys I've loved before Tarlos au no one asked for but I wrote anyway.

You can read it here

Here is a snippet:

When Mateo saunters into TK’s room he’s too busy daydreaming to notice it. His walls are full of posters, his desk is overflowing with notebooks and pencils, full of drawings and doodles, clothes are spilling onto the floor everywhere and his bookcase is overfull of everything from trashy romance novels to complex sci fi stories. TK’s at the moment too wrapped up in his own fantasies about hand holding with someone cute and sweet, forbidden kisses and sneaking out at night together to notice anything out of the ordinary. He’s been staring at the same page for a while, he’s read the novel a few times by now, instead he has a distant look in his eyes as he lies on his side, staring into the wall. Mateo rolls his eyes and grabs the nearest pillow and whacks it, hard, straight into TK’s face. 

“Hey!” TK almost falls off the bed, Mateo laughing as he leans against the wall, looking way too proud over his achievement. 

“Are we hanging out or what?” 

“Oh right, yeah I forgot.” He throws a mournful look at his book that has fallen to the floor, picks it up and dusts it off before he gets off the bed. 

“You need to stop living inside your head so much. It’s not good for you.”

“Shut up.” 

“What? It’s true, you need to start living your life.”

“Sure Dr. Phil, I’ll get right onto it.” Mateo laughs and shrugs, like he knows it’s a losing battle, and then they are both interrupted by the clattering of plates downstairs. Mateo lifts an eyebrow.

“Yeah, we should probably go help him.” TK agrees. 

“He doesn’t want the help though.”

“Well, we can set the table.” TK caringly puts his book on the nightstand and then they head downstairs to see if their dad is about to burn the whole house down, which would be ironic since he’s ridiculously thorough when it comes to fire safety. 

“Hi, dad, don’t burn the house down please.” TK calls and Mateo glares at him.

“What?”

“Don’t say that, it will hurt his feelings.”

“No, it won’t.”

Owen Strand, fire captain, father of two, and an altogether good person was standing in their infrequently used kitchen, oven mitts on and way on his way to almost drop the big metallic bowl he’s holding as they make their way downstairs. 

“Dad, how’s it going, do you want any help?” Mateo asks, and then gives TK a look over his shoulder that says ‘this is how it’s done’ like he thinks TK doesn’t know how to be discreet, which is a lie, TK definitely knows how to be discreet. There’s a knock on their door then and before anyone can even open it Paul and Marjan step inside, like they both live here and have done this numerous times before. 

“Hi, fire captain, it smells good.” Paul calls as he steps inside to high five Owen, who delightfully accepts, only to actually drop the bowl on Mateo’s toes. TK snickers meanly into his hands as Mateo jumps up and down, like that will somehow ease the pain. Marjan rolls her eyes but bends down to pick it up, luckily it was empty. 

“Thanks Paul.” Owen says proudly and takes the bowl off Marjan, who looks at Owen like he’s hung the moon. TK loves his friends, but Marjan and Paul are both clearly too dumb to be able to see Owen for who he really is, even if TK were to dangle the mess his father can be in front of their eyes. They love his dad, absolutely adore him and when they come around to hang out, TK and Mateo can expect to be left on the sidelines while the pair relentlessly bother Owen with questions about being a fireman and listen like there’s nothing more interesting to do in life than hear Owen’s stories. TK isn’t too bothered by it, but it bugs Mateo, so TK has taken to intervening from time to time and force his dad to leave the room so they can actually hang out like planned. 

They come over on Saturdays though, every Saturday since they’ve all been friends, and that day is reserved for only listening to Owen talking about being a firefighter, that’s the standing deal they all have. Mateo and TK have given up on trying to change that by now and most of those evenings usually ends with Mateo being the one to cook the actual dinner while TK tries to help and fails spectacularly. He’s a miniature of his dad in the kitchen for sure. 

There was a time when TK used to only refer to Owen as his dad, but since Mateo’s been around ever since TK was 6, Owen is just as much TK’s dad at this point as he is Mateo’s. And Owen is a good dad, in most areas, but not when it comes to cooking or being on time, so Mateo and TK gave up a long time ago trying to change his weird and unbreakable habits. They’ve spent enough time on their own by now to know it’s useless and they are old enough now both to care and to understand that being a fire captain is a serious and very time consuming job. They’ve spent enough time doing homework, and what they used to refer to as sleepovers at the station, which weren’t exactly sleepovers, more like their dad was working night shifts and he couldn’t get Michelle to cover all the time for him during the nights and they were too young to be left on their own, to understand that what their dad does is a very serious job. Michelle who used to babysit them pretty often when they were children are now working with Owen as a paramedic. She’s shown them around the van a few times too and both Mateo and TK are very taken by the whole station and the people working there, but more so Mateo these days than TK. 

Long cooked ribs are soon ready to be taken out of the oven, but TK has the chinese takeout place a ten minute drive down the road on speed dial for emergencies, and he knows his dad, this is going to end up being one.

“Paul, Marjan, how’s school? How are your parents?” While Owen has never been on time once in his life, apart from when he’s on call, he’s good at keeping up with all of TK and Mateo’s friends and their respective families though, and always asks and seems to genuinely care about any news. Owen is popular by default, and it’s not his fault he’s likeable by most people, but it does mean that TK and Mateo don’t get a lot of alone time with him, seeing as when he’s off work he gets pulled in all sorts of directions and he’s basically incapable of saying no. TK has definitely not inherited that quality though as his default answer to doing anything that requires him to spend time outside of this house and away from his precious books and characters is always going to be a no. More often than not Mateo is forced to push and pull him out of the house if he’s going to leave it for anything other than school, which he can’t exactly opt out of. 

“It’s good, and my parents send their hello.” Marjan says as TK tunes them out and turns to Mateo instead so he can be directed towards what he’s supposed to do. He starts to chop carrots up as his dad distractedly starts to hold a conversation with Marjan and Paul while Mateo takes the bowl off his dad completely and starts putting the mostly already cut up potatoes in there.

-------

“It’s supposed to fall off the bone.” His dad whispers sadly as he tries to shake the meat off in an attempt to try and fix the situation. Paul and Marjan look about ready to protest and eat it anyway but TK refuses to risk anyone getting food poisoning and brings out his phone to order takeout while Mateo offers to help Owen clean up.

“It’s fine dad, I’ll just order some food, okay?” Owen looks disappointed but concedes to Mateo while Marjan and Paul try to cheer him up. TK rolls his eyes and dials. 

“It will be ready in 15 minutes.” They’ve done this enough times by now for TK to know everyone’s order by heart and Nigel, the owner of the place, is starting to feel more like a permanent friend of TK’s than someone he just goes to order food from. 

“Oh TK, Judd says his grandmother’s car is fixed up by the way and you can come pick it up at his this week.” TK groans and Mateo shouts out his displeasure.

“Why did TK get a car, he's a terrible driver.”

“I’m not, I just don’t like driving.” 

“You drive like a grandma, I would feel more safe in a car with an actual grandma than with you.”

“At least I have a driver’s license.” He shoots back.

“Yeah, I don’t even know how the driver’s instructor let you through.”

“Feel free to take the bus!”

“Or I can just drive and then we can switch places real quick if we get pulled over.”

“No!” Both TK and Owen shout and Mateo defleats, it sends a pang of guilt through TK though, because while they joke around about this Mateo is genuinely upset that he failed the driving test and TK didn’t which is a bit of an ironic situation because Mateo is a better driver than TK, he’s just really bad when he’s put under pressure and things tend to go wrong then. TK basically passed because he was driving so slow the instructor got so bored he didn’t want to do this with him again. 

“Boys, what I was suggesting was that all you go pick up the food and I stay here and clean up the place.” TK peeks through into the kitchen where Marjan and Paul have started looking through the fridge, the dishes everywhere and the surfaces all full of cutlery, dirty and clean alike looking very much in need of a cleaning. 

“Is TK driving?”

“Who else is going to?” Mateo looks at Paul and Marjan, which both are definitely out of the question and then at TK and just grimaces.

“Fine.”

“You don’t have to come, I can go on my own.” He crosses his arms, a little defensively, because while he isn’t the most comfortable driver, he is the only one out of his friends that actually can do it. 

“No, we’re coming.” Paul declares and Owen ushers them all to the door and hands TK the keys to his car with a reproachful look which makes TK promise that he will drive carefully.

“Be safe kiddos, and tell Nigel hi from me.” 

“Yes dad.” Mateo shouts, already out the door calling for shotgun and rushing up the car with Marjan hot on his heels. When it looks like Mateo is going to make it, Marjan manages to trip him and he falls head first into the car, but just as quickly as he’s hit the side of the door, which doesn’t look to be too painful, he moves to stand in front of Marjan anyway.

“I called it!”

“Kids, settle down.” Paul says, always one for joking around, but definitely more calmer than what either Marjan and Mateo are.

“I called it though.”

“Doesn’t matter, I reached it first.” Marjan says and moves her hands around Mateo’s body to lift him to the side.

“Hey! That is cheating.” Both Paul and TK roll their eyes.

“Because I am the one driving I get to decide who sits beside me, I pick Paul and if anyone objects I won’t pay for your food.” Mateo and Marjan both glare but they get into the back, not before Marjan pushes Mateo again who knocks his shoulder against hers back. TK rolls his eyes again, never fully having gotten on board with their sometimes overly aggressive way of showing affection. He much preferred Paul’s steady presence and occasionally unwanted wisdom and creepy observational skills he forced upon you. But they had all been friends for a long time now, Mateo and TK first, then it had grown into Paul and lastly Marjan who joined their group when they all started high school, for them to even have too many objections about each other by now.  

Once in the car another fight over who gets to decide the music starts and TK shuts them out and puts the radio on while they figure it out, it’s a ten minute drive, fifteen tops when TK drives, and it will take them about the same amount of time to figure out whose phone to connect anyway so he lets them be. 

“Mateo we listened to yours the other day, it’s definitely my turn.”

“No one wants to hear your emo music about sadness and feelings, it’s bullshit!”

“Shut up, my music taste is great.” Marjan whacks him on the head and Paul sighs before he turns around to whack both of them.

“Shut up, I am deciding.”

“How come it’s always you and TK against me and Marjan?”

“Pftt, as if I am getting roped into your category.”

“It’s not even me and TK against you two, it’s me against the both of you knuckleheads.”

“I’m neutral, don’t even try and drag me into this.” TK protests and slows down at the speed bump in front of him. Then he turns right and then they get to the big crossing that leads into town. He slows and Mateo groans.

“This is going to take ages.”

“Shut up.”

“Man you could have totally gone now.” Paul complains and TK glares at the both of them before he turns right again, finally getting onto the main road. 

“No backseat driving.”

“Yeah yeah.” Mateo mutters. 

Ten minutes later, without any accidents, they get to the small family owned Chinese place. It was a popular place, beloved by the town, and almost always full of customers. But Nigel was a sweet man, always took the time to talk to people, and ever since Owen had saved most of the place from burning down many many years ago now, when a newbie was closing it down and forgot to turn off the stove, they were always given extra prawn crackers and spring rolls to go with their food. Or maybe it was because they were here way too often when Owen decided to try new recipes that Nigel knew them well enough to send extra food.

“I drove, I’m not going in.”

“Of course you’re going in, you have the money!” Marjan calls.

“Exactly. You two get to sit in the front seat, and TK has the money, I ain't moving.” 

“Ugh, fine.” He has no energy to argue and Paul just shrugs and gets out. Typical Paul.

“No one steal my seat while I’m gone.” He warns and Mateo and Marjan nods solmely, both aware that Paul could take on the both of them if he decided. 

“Come on, I’m hungry.” TK calls impateniely and Paul jogs to catch up. TK’s phone chimes with a text message and he opens it up, unaware of where he’s really going, doesn’t catch what Paul says and steps straight into what feels like a solid wall, his phone goes flying and so does the person’s takeout in front of him. Paul catches his arm before he also goes flying to the floor and TK looks up and is about to say that he’s sorry only to freeze up, his mouth probably hanging open in shock.

“TK.” Paul shakes his arm and TK almost stumbles again. “What’s wrong with you man?”

What is wrong is that TK is an absolute idiot and the person he just walked into and sent their take out orders and the drinks to the floor, is of bloody course Carlos Reyes. 

Carlos Reyes.

Not that he looks angry or anything, instead he looks something between amused and concerned and a bit like he’s waiting for TK to say anything.

“Erm…”

Paul faceplants and bends down to help pick up the stuff from the ground because TK seems to have broken down completely and Paul at least has some sense about him to act human. 

“It looks like most of it is fine, sorry man.” Paul says and Carlos’ eyes finally move away from TK, thank fuck, because he can breathe again and watches as Carlos smiles at Paul, sending something like jealousy and relief through him. God, what the fuck?

“Oh, yeah, thanks. That’s good.”

“What happened?” A girl says and TK’s eyes move away from Carlos’ to a girl he knows is called Iris, a jumper that has the The Alder high school’s symbol printed at the front in red bold letters, and a size that’s way too big on her to belong to her at all. TK wonders if it’s Carlos.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t see where I was going.” He finally says and her eyes snap to his, recognition sparking in them. She smiles, nicely, and grabs Carlos by the shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I’m sure it wasn’t all your fault. Carlos is a known clutz.” Carlos rolls his eyes and TK highly doubts that someone as athletic and fit as Carlos can be clumsy. He thankfully keeps his mouth shut though. Paul hands Carlos the bags and he smiles thankfully, his face stupidly handsome and TK gulps, he hopes it goes unnoticed.

“Sorry, sorry again.” He stutters out like an idiot and when Carlos looks at him and TK feels the air go out of him.

UGH.

“It’s cool, well we better get going, see you sometime.” He says, trying to sidestep TK who misreads the whole thing and steps to the right at the same time as Carlos does, making Carlos chuckle, before he tries again, only to almost step right into TK. Paul groans and then, not too gently, grabs TK’s shoulders to forcefully remove him from Carlos’ path like TK is at the moment incapable of doing it himself. Carlos chuckles again, a deep sound that vibrates through TK, before he waves and drags Iris with him, her eyes sparkling with mischief and before they cross the street TK hears Carlos shush her. TK groans and pulls at the ends of his hair and is met by Paul raising his eyebrow at him, both judginly and fondly at the same time.

“Don’t say a word.” He warns.

“I wasn’t.” Paul opens the door to the place so they can finally get inside, the place smelling wonderfully and the noise level comforting TK immediately. What can he say, he likes the sound of voices to fill empty spaces. 

“Your eyes are saying enough.”

“If they were they would be saying that that was pathetic.”

“Ugh.”

“How long has this crush been going on now? Since middle school?”

“Yeah.” TK lies, because he did meet Carlos ages ago, and he was possibly too young to have a crush then, but then yes, middle school was probably around the time he figured out he was into boys and Carlos was the best looking one he had ever laid eyes on and he was young and dramatic and couldn’t help but latch onto him. 

“He’s not so bad for a jock, you know that right?”

“It doesn’t matter.” The line moves further up ahead and it can’t go quick enough TK thinks. 

“Why?”

“Because! Because?” He ends. Pauls rolls his eyes. 

“Because? These are not reasons.”

“Okay, fine, fine! He’s popular, hot, clever, way out of my league, and, and…”

“These sound like excuses and not reasons.”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” He mutters petulantly and is saved by it being their turn, Nigel knowing exactly what they have ordered, smile bright and happy and TK gets busy answering all his questions instead of Paul’s, which he prefers anyway. 

[distant-rose]

Playing Off Foul (1/2)

Notes: I’ve been working off this idea for awhile. I just needed to get it off my chest. I have so much baseball!Killian crap in my WIP drawer and it needs to see the light of day. A special thank you to @welllpthisishappening​ and @katie-dub​ for being my support system and for encouraging me to write this nonsense. My apologies to fans of the Arizona Diamondbacks and Carmelo Anthony. My shade is nothing personal. Summary: Emma Swan doesn’t know anything about baseball, only that her son Henry is obsessed and works as a ballboy for the New York Yankees. She has no interest in it, that is until her son gets whacked with a foul ball and she comes face-to-face with the player that hit it - Killian Jones. Rating: T+ Word Count: 4,600+

When it came down to it, Emma blamed David.

Though it had been Neal who had introduced Henry to baseball, it had been David’s fault that he became a Yankees fan. Since the moment he learned that Henry was interest in the sport dubbed “America’s Favorite Pastime,” Emma’s brother had taken to bringing her son to every baseball game he could afford and spending the rest of his money on more merchandise than their tiny two bedroom apartment could afford. 

It was David who had told Henry about the ballboy job opening at Yankee Stadium and like a fool, Emma had allowed her teenager to apply. She didn’t think he would get past the application review but two weeks later, Henry had gotten the call in for an interview which was followed by an official job offer and a celebratory dinner at Fazio’s. She wasn’t been sure how was more excited about it - Henry for having an opportunity to meet his heroes and get paid for it or David who now had an inside man on what was really going on in the Yankees’ locker room. Emma had been less enthused about it.

Though the team that spent half of its games on the road, the stadium seemed to have constant need of Henry and it wasn’t uncommon for him to come stumbling back into the apartment at one or two in the morning on a school night. Furthermore, the players had an habit of giving him more money in tips than Henry knew what to do with on top of earning an whopping $21.50 an hour. Emma nearly blew a gasket when she find out one of the players had given her son a thousand dollars to keep quiet about some girls coming into the locker room for a “private tour.” She didn’t want their boorish behaviour and outrageous spending habits rubbing off on her son. She already had Neal to contend with, she didn’t need to add a bunch of immature rich assholes to the mix. However, there were silver linings to Henry working at the ballpark. Being a ballboy required him to be on top of his grades and it kept him out of trouble for the most part. More often than not, his Saturday nights were spent cleaning bases and polishing cleats rather than going to parties. She also no longer had to worry about Henry asking for money to hang out with his friends since he made more than enough to fend for himself. Another added cherry was that nothing pissed off her Diamondbacks loving ex more than knowing their son was working for “the Evil Empire.” Still, Emma didn’t like it.

She especially didn’t like it when she saw “Yankee Stadium” on her caller ID when she was in the middle of a honey-trap operation to catch a guy who had been charged with credit card fraud.

“Hello? Is this Mrs. Swan?” It was a voice she didn’t recognise but he sounded vaguely nervous.

She bristled slightly at bit at the misnomer. “It’s Miss Swan and yes, this is.”

“Right, sorry, Miss Swan, my name is William Smee and I’m a clubhouse assistant manager over at Yankee Stadium. I’m calling in regard to your son-“ “What happened?” Emma cut him off in a clipped tone.

“There was an accident. A foul ball caught him unaware and he was knocked unconscious. An ambulance was called and he’s on his way to Bronx New Lebanon.”

Fear spiked up her spine as he spoke but she tapped it down, immediately going into crisis mode. She couldn’t afford to get hysterical. Henry needed to keep her cool. Before Mr. Smee even finished his last sentence, she had picked up her purse and was shrugging her coat back on.

“How long ago was this?”

“Twenty minutes ago. We wanted to make sure Henry got immediate attention and was looked after before we did anything else. His health is our top priority and rest assured, Miss Swan, the organisation is willing to pay any medical bills or anything-” “I literally do not care,” Emma cut him off again. “Just give me the address.”

“It’s on Tiffany Street, I believe, ma’am.”

Emma got up, so focused on the situation with Henry that she had forgotten all about her “date.” She turned to leave, he reached out and grabbed her arm. Emma hissed when his grip was a little more forceful than necessary, fingers digging into her skin.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked rudely.

“My son is in the hospital. I need to go.”

“You have a son?”

“Yes. He’s fourteen and was just in an accident at Yankee Stadium. Now, let me go.”

“Look, Emma, I don’t know what your malfunction is but I know a lie when I see one. You’re wearing an old ass dress and false stones after all. How about you sit down and actually give me a chance. I’m a really nice guy with some cash to burn.”

“Listen, dude, let me go and I will forget about this.”

“Or what? What are you gonna do me, sweetheart?”

Emma let out a short humourless laugh. This guy didn’t realize how lenient she was planning on being. When she heard Henry was in the hospital, she had decided that she would let this skip go and focus on her son. Now, she wasn’t going to be so generous. On top of being a massive credit scam artist, he was also an asshole and she wasn’t going to let that fly.

She pulled out her cuffs and attached one to his wrist faster than he could blink. He stared at his wrist dumbfounded while she attached the other end to his seat. When he tried to take off, Emma tripped him. She watched in smug satisfaction as the chair landed on top of him. She placed a heeled foot on top of it to keep him in place as she took out her phone once more and called her brother. He picked up after the second ring.

“Is Henry okay?” He asked immediately, not even bothering with pleasantries.

Emma blinked in surprise. “You know about that already?”

“Yeah. It was just on ESPN.”

“Shit.”

“Where is he? I saw him get pulled off. He okay?”

“I’m heading to Bronx New Lebanon now,” Emma replied, applying more pressure on the man beneath her foot. “I need a big favor though. I need you to pick up a Mr. James Graves from Piccola Cucina.”

“On it.”

“Fuck you, bitch!” The skip growled.

“Hey! You had your chance!” She snapped back. “You should have just let me go and see my son!”

The maitre d’hotel came over with a cautious expression, holding his hands up in front of him as if he was approaching a wild and dangerous animal. Emma flashed him a smile in hopes of defusing some of the tension. He gave a tentative one back.

“Is everything okay here, Miss?” He asked nervously.

“Hi. My name is Emma Swan. I work for Nationalwide Bail Bonds Agency. This gentleman, and I use that term loosely, missed his court date and there’s a warrant out for his arrest. There’s an officer on the way. I needed to leave like twenty minutes ago because my kid is in the hospital. So, no. It’s not okay.”

The maitre d’hotel’s eyes went wide and he glanced between her and the man underneath her boot a few times, looking entirely unsure on how to handle the situation. Emma sympathised. This wasn’t the type of joint that was used to rough clientele and this wasn’t normally the sort of spot that Emma would bring her skips but James Graves had insisted on this spot, probably in an attempt to impress her into sleeping with him.

“I’ll going to talk to someone...I will be right back…”

“I’ll be here,” Emma muttered bitterly, taking out her phone and glancing at the time. She didn’t want to leave Henry alone in the hospital.

“You could still let me go...and see your kid...and I will be willing to forget all about this…” James Graves wheezed from under her.

Emma rolled her eyes. “You had your shot, buddy. You blew it. Now, you’re going to hang tight until Officer Nolan comes.”

The maitre d’hotel returned four minutes later, two large stocky men flanking him. Both were wearing black shirts and white aprons that were covered in grime;  the customary mark of someone who works in the back of a restaurant. Neither of them looked happy, both eying Emma’s skip with disdain.

“Miss, I know you need to leave so I talked to some of the boys in the back who are willing to babysit your friend until the authorities arrive so you can get to your son.”

It was the nicest thing a stranger had ever done for her. She gave them her first genuine smile of the night.

“Seriously?”

“Absolutely. We’ll keep an eye on him. Go see your boy… and perhaps come back for some eggplant parm when you’re able.”

With her skip issue settled, Emma raced to where she had parked her car.  Her eyes nearly bulged when she saw a parking ticket tacked to her windshield but it was nothing she couldn’t sort out with David later. It was just another annoyance and one that she needed to set aside until she saw to Henry.

The drive to the Bronx was as painful. It was as if the some unmerciful god knew how stressed she was and decided to add to it. FDR Drive was backed to hell with bumper-to-bumper traffic. She watched in frustration as the ETA on her Waze app crept up minute by minute, screaming against her steering wheel. If only she had gotten a Hummer instead of a Volkswagen Bug, then she could just crush everything in her path and be with her son already.

It took her nearly an hour and twenty minutes to get to Tiffany Street and then another ten minutes to find parking before resigning to put her car in an overpriced garage that only took cash. The men at the lot were unsympathetic to her plight. They rolled their eyes at her explanations, telling her to that the local convenience across the street had an ATM and to come back when she could actually pay them.

Needless to say by the time she finally got into the hospital, Emma was in a foul mood and was ready to go to war with anyone who got in her path. Her anger must have been plastered all over her face because anyone who saw her gave her a wide berth and the nursing staff seemed to shrink under her gaze when she demanded to know where her son was. She didn’t care what anyone thought of her. She just wanted to know her kid was okay.

She was led down the hall by a harassed looking nurse who was trying very hard to make small talk with her but Emma was having none of it. The nurse stopped towards the end of the hall and gestured to the last room, mumbling something about seeing to other people. She paid the woman no mind though.

She was surprised to hear laughter coming from her son’s hospital room. It wasn’t the laughter of a teenager but rather a grown man, one she didn’t recognise. Frowning to herself, she entered the room to find her son sitting up in bed and playing cards with a stranger.

Henry’s face brightened when he saw her.

“Mom! You made it! Did you get your guy?”

Emma didn’t acknowledge the question. Her attention was focused on the man sitting at her son’s bedside. He appeared to be the same age as her and dressed in the most expensive pair of sweats that she had ever seen. The New York Yankees logo was emblazoned across his chest and his sleeves were rolled to his elbows, exposing muscled forearms. He had messy dark hair and well-manicured stubble that seemed to enhance the line of his jaw. He was giving her a tentative smile and brushing his hands against his knees nervously. In the back of her head, Emma acknowledged he was incredibly attractive but she was more concerned with who the hell he was and why he was in her son’s hospital room.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Mom!” Henry sounded scandalized.

“Ermmm…” The man ran one of his hands through his hair. Emma noted the massive scarring that seemed to encompass webbing between his thumb and index finger and seemed to radiate in angry lines across his knuckles. He stood up and held out his other hand for her shake. “Killian Jones.”

She didn’t take it. Instead she crossed her arms in front of her chest and raised her eyebrows at him. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

Henry let out a loud groan and looked like he was about have a fit.

“Mom! Are you kidding? He’s the best second baseman in the league! He has the highest on-base percentage and leads the AL in stolen bases! He’s, like, one of the top twenty best hitters! How do you not know who he is!”

Emma glanced back at the proclaimed baseball superstar and squinted a bit. Now that Henry had mentioned it, he did look a little familiar. She was pretty certain that he had seen his profile on her son’s bedroom wall. Though, he looked more intense on the poster than he did in real life. If anything, he now looked awkward and embarrassed. Killian’s face flushed under the praise and he took back the hand he had held out in order to scratch behind his ear.

“I’m pretty sure Jose Altuve would disagree with you on the best second baseman thing.”

“Okay, maybe not the best second baseman but you’re up there. You have an insane record in double plays and you play for the best team in baseball,” Henry conceded, picking up the deck of cards that had been scattered across his rollaway table.

“I appreciate the show of team spirit, Henry.”

“Okay, I get it,”she said, cutting into the bizarre display of male bonding that was happening in front of her. “What is he doing here?”

Both Henry and Killian looked uncomfortable at the question, the two of them exchanging glances. Emma felt her stomach tying itself in knots. She had a feeling she was not going to like what they had to say.

“I just wanted to make sure your boy was okay…” Killian replied slowly, as if he was trying to choose his words carefully. “...and you know, make sure that there was no hard feelings or anything…”

“Excuse me?” Emma narrowed her eyes at him.

“It wasn’t your fault, Killian. It was a foul ball. I should have been paying attention more.”

“Perhaps but still, I would never forgive myself if anything bad had happened to you.”

“You’re the one who hit my kid?!” She hissed, looking at him with murder in her eyes. She was five seconds away from decking him in the face.

Killian seemed to sense her aggression because he put his hands out in front of him in surrender. “Not intentionally! I promise!”

“Right,” she replied in a clipped tone before turning to her son. “Do you mind if I borrow Mr. Baseball here for a moment so we can have a...chat?”

Emma wasn’t certain who looked more nervous, her son or the professional baseball player who was shifting in place like a guilty toddler.

“As long as you promise not to kill him… if he dies, we, for sure, won’t make the playoffs this year.”

“Glad to know that’s all my life is worth to you, Henry.”

“Just being honest.”

She gestured for Killian to follow her out into the hallway. He followed her but she could see the clear reluctance that embodied his stride. He reminded her of the children who sat in front of the principal’s office, waiting to be screamed at. She closed the door behind them, so Henry wouldn't listen in on their conversation. She leaned against it, crossing her arms in front of her chest and glaring at him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

He looked startled by the question. “I already told you. I’m here for your boy, Mrs. Swan.”

“You say that but I know how you assholes work. Everything with you is image. Henry keeps a tight lip on what happens in that locker room but I know that you and some of your buddies pay him to keep quiet about the nasty shit that goes on in that.”

“Pardon?” His lips formed a thin line. His nerves were giving way to irritation but Emma didn’t care.

“You heard? I’m not an idiot. You‘ really not here out of any concern for my son. You’re here to cover your ass and keep up your good guy image. I will not have you use my son as a publicity stunt.”

“Publicity stunt?” He repeated. He looked positively offended by her words. “Listen, Mrs. Swan-”

“It’s Emma. Not Miss Swan, especially not Mrs. Swan,” she cut him off. “I’m not married. Everyone at that fucking stadium always assumes I am. It’s annoying.”

“Alright, alright, fine, Emma,” he conceded, looking more frustrated. “I’m not here for a publicity stunt. Do you see cameras? Reporters? Any media specialists?”

“No,” she admitted.

“That’s because no one knows I’m here. Especially not any reporter. If anything, I’m in big trouble because I skipped media. I didn’t tell anyone I was coming here except one of the base coaches and only because he asked where I was going.”

“Aren’t you going to get in trouble for that?”

“Most definitely,” he replied with a nonchalant shrug.

“Then why are you here?” she whispered again.

“I don’t know how many times I have to say it to you but I genuinely like your son, Mis-Emma. He’s a nice kid. He’s always got a smile on his face and never complains or asks for anything except what else he can do...some of the ballboys after a while try to cut corners or try to go out partying with the team but not Henry… he’s been with us just for this season and it feels like he’s always been there…If he had been seriously hurt…” Killian paused, rubbing his hand over his jaw and looking distressed by the very idea. “...I was serious when I said I would never forgive myself.”

Emma studied him for a moment, sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose. She felt slightly guilty about accusing him of using Henry in such a way when he seemed so earnest in his attachment to her son.

“I didn’t want him to take the job,” she admitted. “He’s got enough going on… And now this...”

“I know.”

She looked up at him, slightly startled. “What?”

“Henry told me you were apprehensive about letting him work in the clubhouse… he thinks you only allowed it to piss off your ex.”

“Henry told you that?”

“I don’t think you understand how closely your son works with the team, love. Like I said, he’s a good kid so I tend to gravitate towards him instead of the others...we talk a lot about things...from freshman baseball tryouts to his writing...”

“You know about Henry’s writing? Henry doesn’t talk to anyone about his writing, not David, not his father.”

“Well, I think he’s more open with me about it because I’m admittedly a Babylon Five and Stargate Atlantis junkie so he’s more comfortable sharing things with a fellow nerd… from what I understand your ex was quite disparaging of his Doctor Who obsession...not that he has much taste, considering he’s a Diamondbacks fan.”

“You’re a sci fi nerd AND a professional baseball player?”

“They aren’t mutually exclusive,” he teased. “What? What did you think we only watched ESPN or Fox Sports or something?”

“Honestly, yes.”

He chuckled, shaking his head and smiling at her. Her breath caught a little and her stomach did annoyingly flips that it hadn’t done since high school. She was stunned how she went from wanting to murder him for hurting her kid to literally squirming at the sight of his face. She needed to get a hold of herself.

“We should probably go back in,” she replied. “You know, so he doesn’t think I murdered you and the team’s playoff chances…”

“Probably a good idea.”

Henry looked anxious as they opened the door, craning his neck to see past Emma. His shoulders visibly relaxed when he saw Killian, alive and well, behind her. She couldn’t help her snort of amusement.

“Did you honestly think I was going to kill him?”

“With you anything is possible, Mom. You did almost run over Carmelo Anthony that one time..”

Killian’s eyebrows rose as he regarded her with a look that was equals concerned and amused. “You almost ran over Carmelo Anthony?”

“That’s not my fault! He was on his phone and walked in front of my car!” Emma defended. “He’s lucky that I have amazing reflexes and was able to stop in time or else he would have been out for all of 2016.”

“I think at that point Knicks fans would have thanked you. I’m pretty they were trying to get rid of him by then. He was a cancer to the team,” Killian responded with a smirk.

“You follow basketball too?”

“I follow most major sports, love. Except maybe golf. But that’s because I firmly believe if you can drink and smoke while playing it, then it isn’t a sport,” Killian remarked.

“Babe Ruth used to eat, drink and smoke between innings,” Henry teased.

“That’s because Babe Ruth was a baseball god and could do whatever he wanted.”

“If you say so.”

Killian gave Henry a light shove in response. He sat down in his original seat and picked up the neatly stack cards that Henry had been fiddling with.

“Do you want to play another hand?”

“Only if Mom deals in,” Henry smiled.

“I can play,” Emma responded, taking another chair and sitting next Killian. She miscalculated the distance between them, causing her knee bump against his. Emma was vaguely surprised when neither of them pulled away from the accidental contact. “As long as I get the official story of what happened.”

Henry’s face turned red and ducked his head down, focusing on the cards Killian was dealing.

“Okay….so with foul balls, we’re supposed to give them away to fans. And when we say fans, they mean to give them away to the little kids. You know? The four to ten-year olds. Anyway, there was this family and they had two kids and the older kid really really really wanted a ball....so I gave him one and the other kid who was maybe three, I think? I’m guessing he was three, anyway, he threw a big tantrum and I just wanted him to be happy and have a good time so I decided to give him the next ball that came our way...So that’s what I did. And this kid, I don’t think he understood that you’re supposed to keep it because he threw it back on the field...The long and short of it is that I was supposed to be paying attention to the batter. You’re not supposed to do anything but watch when someone is in the box because of safety reasons but the kid threw the ball and I went to pick it up...and the next thing I knew I was on the ground... So really, it’s not Killian’s fault, Mom. It’s mine. And I’m probably going to lose my job over it.”

“You’re not going to lose your job over that, Henry,” Killian said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Things like this happen. You’re not the first and you probably won’t be the last ballboy to get hit.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely,” he responded, picking up his cards.

Emma was more focused on her son than on the card game, looking at him in concern.

“What did the doctor say?”

“That I have a mild concussion. They did tests and say I should be okay, but they want to keep me overnight for observation,” Henry shrugged.

“They did tests!?”

Tests and an overnight in the hospital? She could only imagine what the hospital bill was going to look like. She highly doubted her crap ass insurance plan would do much to cover the costs. She was going to be paying this off all year. She could feel it.

Killian seemed to sense her distress and played a hand on her arm. She jumped slightly at the contact.

“I’m pretty sure the organization is going to foot the bill, love. And if they don’t, I will. You don’t need to worry.”

“We’re not a charity case,” she snapped.

“I didn’t say you were. It’s just the right there to do.”

They didn’t talk much after that, instead focusing on the card game that they had started. Henry was pretty much sweeping them both but Emma had a sneaking suspicion that Killian was losing on purpose, trying to make Henry smile and laugh. It was strange to see someone interact with her son like this outside David and Neal. It did funny things to her insides.

Killian stayed with them past visiting hours, using his charm and clout as a professional baseball player to keep the nurses from kicking them out. It wasn’t until his agent, an imposing woman in a well-tailored pantsuit, came and pulled on the back of his sweatshirt, did Killian leave. Emma didn’t know who was more upset, she or Henry, that he was going.

“You’ll see me sooner than you think,” he told Henry, ruffling his hair a bit and causing the teenager to scowl at him. “You’ll be working at the clubhouse again before you know it and we still have to work on your swing. If you’re not a starting baseman by next year, I will eat my shoe.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Henry replied smartly.

Killian’s eyes cut to Emma, smile softening. “Will I be seeing you around?”

“I don’t know, do you plan on whacking my son in the head again?”

“Hopefully not,” he chuckled, ducking his head a bit.

“Then maybe…”

“Just maybe?”

“It’s better than no.”

“Too true,” he chuckled. “Well, I look forward to maybe seeing you around.”

Henry hit her in the shoulder as soon as Killian was out the door, smirking at her. “You were flirting with Killian Jones!”

“What? I was not!”

“You were too! And he was flirting back! I saw you!” he crowed. “Wait until Uncle David hears this!”

“You’re not telling Uncle David anything because nothing happened!”

“Suuuuureeeeee Mom.”

“Shut up,” she said, giving him a light shove back. “And you should be resting.”

“And you should have gotten his number.”

“Henry. Sleep.”

It turned out that Emma didn’t have to ask. Next afternoon there was a large package outside their apartment, containing a large display of flowers, a personalized New York Yankees jersey with ‘Swan’ on the back, a pack of baseball cards and an index phone with a handwritten message: Just in case, you want to make that maybe a certainty, give me call: 212-921-2012 - KJ

[big-tony]

1-100 hoe

I hate you so much.

1. Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora?

Spotify for sure

3. what color are your eyes?

Ugly ass brown

6. describe your personality in 3 words or less

Really obnoxious

8. what kind of car do you drive? color?

I have a black 2013 Nissan Altima 

9. where do you shop?

As much as I hate them, I do most of my shopping on Amazon. I’ve started using Thrift Books when I buy books, but I also want to start going to local bookstores since some have opened up nearby.

10. how would you describe your style?

The stereotypical person who listens exclusively to music on Bandcamp but doesn’t want to commit to buying clothes at Goodwill

11. favorite social media account

Tumblr but I’m kind of warming up to Twitter

13. any siblings?

Yeah I have an older sister

14. if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why?

I would say at this stage in my life I would like to live in Spain or Argentina. I’d really like to just be somewhere out of North America where I can speak Spanish all the time. I feel like it would be a nice change of pace

15. favorite snapchat filter? 

I deleted snap like four months ago but I really liked the one that just hid all of your blemishes lmao

17. how many times a week do you shower?

Like 10-12 on average

18. favorite tv show?

Either Eric Andre or the Twilight Zone

19. shoe size?

16 which makes shopping for shoes impossible

20. how tall are you?

6′5″

21. sandals or sneakers? 

Sneakers. I only wear sandals if I’m running somewhere for less than 30 minutes

22. do you go to the gym? 

I kind of neglected that this semester but before that I was going about 5 days a week

24. how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment?

$5 lmao

25. what color socks are you wearing? 

White

26. how many pillows do you sleep with?

Just two I don’t like having too many

27. do you have a job? what do you do? 

Not rn I just finished up working as a research assistant and I’ll be applying for that position again this summer

28. how many friends do you have? 

idk if I had to guess somewhere around 30 but I see about 10 of them weekly the rest kind of rotate in and out

29. whats the worst thing you have ever done? 

This girl was going to sit down when I was in high school and I thought it would be funny to pull the chair out from under her. It was not particularly funny and it still haunts me because it was so unnecessarily mean

30. whats your favorite candle scent? 

Fuck I don’t know what it’s called but when I’m home for the holidays my parents always burn this one candle that just reminds me of Christmas. Very cinnamon-y but also smells like pine needles

31. 3 favorite boy names

James, Antonio, David

32. 3 favorite girl names

Autumn, McKenzie, Maria

33. favorite actor? 

I don’t think I watch enough movies to have a strong opinion on this one

34. favorite actress? 

Same

35. who is your celebrity crush?

Shakira for sure

36. favorite movie? 

I watch so few movies that my favorite movie is basically the last good movie I watched so I’d say Madeinusa. If we’re going for movies that are so bad that they’re awesome I’d say Bloodsport

37. do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? 

Yeah I love reading! I’d say it’s tied between The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway and 100 Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

38. money or brains? 

Brains for sure

39. do you have a nickname? what is it? 

People used to call me Chief Keef all the time but I don’t have one anymore

40. how many times have you been to the hospital?

I think like when I was born was the only time lol

41. top 10 favorite songs

In no particular order:

Smashing Pumpkins - 1979

Sun Kil Moon - Pancho Villa

Algernon Cadwallader - Fun

American Football - Stay Home

Shakira - Se Quiere, Se Mata

Sun Kil Moon - Micheline

Sufjan Stevens - Impossible Soul

The Microphones - The Glow, Pt. 2

Frank Dominguez & Elena Burke - Imágenes

Sufjan Stevens - Romulus

42. do you take any medications daily? 

Nah

43. what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc)

I’d say pretty oily I have to shower the moment I wake up because my hair looks like a mess from the oil

44. what is your biggest fear? 

Heights

45. how many kids do you want? 

If I decide I want kids, probably just one

46. whats your go to hair style?

I like to keep it pretty short and put some gel in it it’s pretty basic

47. what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) 

I live in an apartment right now but my parents’ house is kind of small compared to all my friends’ growing up.

48. who is your role model? 

I try not to have a role model per se because every time I learn about famous people they disappoint me in one way or another. I had a lot of respect for Anthony Bourdain though

49. what was the last compliment you received?

My friend told me yesterday that I’ve made a lot of positive changes in my life this past month, which meant a lot to me

50. what was the last text you sent?

“Dead af” which is pretty par for the course

51. how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real?

I think I was 9 when I decided he didn’t exist. No one really confirmed or denied it until I was like 12

52. what is your dream car? 

I used to say corvette but I can’t fit in one lol

53. opinion on smoking?

I can’t really get on a high horse about it because I smoke when I’m very drunk but I don’t enjoy the really strong smell of a smoker’s house

54. do you go to college? 

Yeah! I’m studying history and Spanish and I should be graduating spring 2020

55. what is your dream job? 

I want to be a professor and hopefully teach Latin American history

56. would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? 

Since my indie folk days are behind me, suburbs for sure

57. do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? 

No my hair seems to hate those so I have to bring my own shampoo when I go places

58. do you have freckles? 

nah

59. do you smile for pictures?

Yeah I like my smile a lot so

60. how many pictures do you have on your phone? 

1629 according to my camera roll

61. have you ever peed in the woods? 

Oh yeah absolutely

62. do you still watch cartoons? 

I keep up with Steven Universe by force of habit but otherwise no

63. do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds?

McDonald’s. Wendy’s chicken nuggets are whack

64. Favorite dipping sauce? 

Chick-Fil-A sauce

65. what do you wear to bed? 

Basketball shorts

66. have you ever won a spelling bee?

I won this in-class one and they asked me to go to the school-wide one but I didn’t go

67. what are your hobbies?

Reading, writing, and learning languages mostly. I’d like to get more social hobbies at some point like get into playing pool but I haven’t gotten around to it

68. can you draw? 

Oh hell no. I tried super hard up until like 7th grade and then I accepted fate

69. do you play an instrument?

I am trying to learn the banjo but I need to get more consistent

70. what was the last concert you saw? 

I saw Fleet Foxes in March, which was an amazing show. I missed American Football in August which I’m still really upset about

71. tea or coffee?

Coffee, though I’d like to learn more about tea

72. Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts?

Dunkin Donuts just because it’s cheaper

73. do you want to get married?

Yeah I have a crippling fear of ending up alone lmao

74. what is your crush’s first and last initial?

I don’t really have a crush but the girl I’m seeing’s initials are BS which is interesting to say the least

75. are you going to change your last name when you get married? 

No but I probably should because my last name is bland af

76. what color looks best on you? 

I think I look good in a deep purple

77. do you miss anyone right now? 

Unfortunately yes but I’m getting over it slowly

78. do you sleep with your door open or closed?

Closed. I have this irrational fear that I will wake up and someone is watching me, but in all reality an unlocked door won’t stop them if that’s what it is going to come to

79. do you believe in ghosts?

Nah

80. what is your biggest pet peeve? 

People who read, watch, or hear something slightly out of the ordinary and go “WOW I WONDER HOW MANY DRUGS THEY MUST HAVE BEEN ON TO COME UP WITH THAT”

81. last person you called`

My parents like two hours ago

82. favorite ice cream flavor? 

Cookies and cream

83. regular oreos or golden oreos? 

Regular, I didn’t know people liked the golden ones

84. chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? 

Rainbow

85. what shirt are you wearing? 

A UCF football shirt! Go Knights

86. what is your phone background?

Salamovka at Night (Judy’s Window Lit) by Lois Dodd

87. are you outgoing or shy?

Very outgoing lol

88. do you like it when people play with your hair?

Ugh I love it so much

89. do you like your neighbors? 

Never talked to em but they’re quiet so I can’t complain

90. do you wash your face? at night? in the morning?

Yeah before bed and after my shower

91. have you ever been high? 

Many times

92. have you ever been drunk? 

Many times

93. last thing you ate? 

I got a chicken tender sub at Publix!

94. favorite lyrics right now

Don’t leave home, again

If empathy takes energy

‘Cause everyone feels just like you

But that’s life, it’s so social

95. summer or winter? 

Winter because I like when it’s a bit chillier, even though Florida does not get very cold. It’s been in the 40s and 50s this week which has been incredible and I wish we had more days like that.

96. day or night? 

I like the night during summer and the day during winter. 

97. dark, milk, or white chocolate? 

Milk chocolate

98. favorite month? 

October

99. what is your zodiac sign

Libra

100. who was the last person you cried in front of? 

My ex-girlfriend about three years ago.

I still hate you for this.