#i just- after talking to my parents last night. my mum is a teacher who has training specifically in understanding how ppl read

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[astreids]

in this life and all the others !!!

alternatively — ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩ john price prepared his daughter for everything and that included him being gone. what he didn't prepare himself for was her being gone.

simon riley x fem!price!reader — 𖦹₊˚⊹☁️

warnings — ⋆｡°✩ language. kinda ooc!simon but idgaf. reader may have some specific traits, sorry for self projection, it WILL happen again. kidnapping, allusion to death, blood, wounds, the usual yeeyay with their line of work. john is going through it. reader and ghost are already together.

author's note — ⋆｡°✩ hiii :) my first time ever writing for this fandom and i'm reallllly excited!! i hope you like this <3 fair warning, the reader's sense of style, hair length description, possible field of work may be specified so if that's not to your preference, i'm really sorry for it :( if you would like me to do something like this with some specific points and all, you can just ask me!! i'm sure i'll be able to work with that!! thank you so much for reading, i already love each and every one of you <3

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

it felt wrong to admit it now but when your mother first dropped you at your father's house, he didn't — well, he didn't exactly want you.

it wasn't as if he didn't love you, he did — you were his daughter. but his life had enough chaos to last him a lifetime and he was just fine with staying in touch with you through screens and only seeing you alternately on christmas, that too if the circumstances allowed him too

sure, he wouldn't be there at your parent teacher conferences or have you show him your report cards. he wouldn't get to see you perform extraordinarily in your extracurriculars or have you run towards him with whatever prize or trophy you'd get. he wouldn't always be there at your birthdays and sometimes, he might even forget to mail you a present. he might not get to see you grow up and he might only be just your father and never your dad.

he was fine with that.

so, what would it matter if his heart broke a little when his ex-wife, your mother, called him the night after they had signed the divorce papers and asked him to talk to you because you wouldn't stop asking for your dad? why would he be second guessing himself after hearing your small voice breaking in between as you asked him to come back? why did he get the sudden urge to drive to your mum's house and pick you up and apologize and let you choose the colour of the walls of your room in his house — your home?

but sure, he was fine.

he assured you that he was just a call away, told you to be good for your mom, eat your veggies, be nice and kind and then bid you goodbye. he tried hard not to pay attention to your cries as your mum took the phone from you and apologized to him, explaining that you just missed him.

'she just misses you, john,' and he was ready to break down then and there. you needed him, your dad, and he was refusing to be there. refusing to let that shadow of his work even fall on your shadow for a second. refusing to let you be a soft spot for him because that was the most dangerous thing a person in his line of work could ever have.

'she'll get over it soon, forget her old man and all,' he tried to laugh it off but his voice broke and before your mum could say anything, he hung up.

the next time he saw you, you were at his door, standing with your luggage behind you and your mother. he noticed that her own luggage was still in the cab and it didn't take long for him to figure out what was coming. he had tried to explain himself, explain why exactly he wasn't cut out for this and that he was very happy with seeing you every other weekend. all while you stood near the staircase and stayed quiet.

your mum left and left you behind with a father who didn't even remember his daughter's favourite colour.

he remembered the look on your face and the way you tried to make yourself as small as possible, taking the least amount of space you could. you had just turned ten, your birthday being one of many that john would eventually come to miss and he looked at you like you were still that same one year old baby who pulled herself up and walked to her dad.

he grabbed your luggage and one of your hands and walked you up the stairs and into one of the rooms down the hall. it was mostly empty, a twin size bed and a dresser drawer spread out with a wardrobe in the corner but he figured you'd be fine.

if he saw you pause at the walls being your maybe-favourite colour, he didn't say anything.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

"what do you mean?"

"john — "

"stop, just — stop," john took a deep breath, exhaling shakily as he broke eye contact with laswell and looked away. his hands ever so slightly shaking came up to fix his signature hat as he pointedly ignored ghost's gaze piercing him from where he was listening to everything at the back of his office. "what do you mean?"

"we're trying to locate — "

"that's my fucking daughter and you swore that this wouldn't ever catch up to her!" john snapped, his voice firm and sharp as he desperately tried to hide the tremor in his words. "you — you guaranteed that my line of work would never catch up to her and that she'd be safe and she'd be fine and now she is — "

he cut himself off with as soon as his voice cracked, looking away as he shook his head, shaking the concerned and empathetic eyes of kate and the blank stare of his lieutenant. deep down, he knew that she was doing everything she could to locate you — the whole base was. with soap leaving no stone unturned as he investigated the residence, gaz checking the cameras installed out the place and the street to find a trace of anything, kate herself flying down to the base to do everything she was capable of doing and ghost doing... something, everyone was on it.

but still, you were his daughter.

his daughter. the one who always waited up for him ever since you learned that your dad would be away for a while but he'd come back. the one who called him 'old man' but cried and got upset whenever he tried to have the 'when i'm gone' conversation with you. the one who made cards for every single occasion, cards he still cherished with his everything. you were his everything and you were nowhere to be found.

in a way he blamed himself, he always did. whether it'd be you catching a fever or not having all of your project supplies, he'd always blame himself. he'd continue to do it until someone — more often than not, kate — came by and knocked some sense into his head, told him that one shortcoming doesn't make him a bad dad.

his eyes glanced around the room, anything to prevent him from looking into the empathetic gaze of kate because it felt like she had already accepted that you were gone. you were not, you were just taken — taken from him and he needed to get you back.

he locked eyes with simon and took in his appearance for the first time since he came into the room. truth be told, nobody really saw him coming in, nobody even called for him to be in here. he just showed up and john knew that it would be futile to get him to go out — not that he wanted him to go. it was weirdly comforting, having simon in the same room as they discussed what to do next. maybe it was because they both had the same goal in their mind, get you back or maybe john had just grown familiar with his presence after countless mornings of him descending down the stairs to see him and you at the breakfast bar. whatever it was, john was grateful simon stuck around.

looking at him, everything was the same, not one thing out of place but john knew different, he knew better. he could see the small specks of blood decorating his infamous skull mask and the empty holster attached to his thigh. he could barely make out the dark spots on his glove but if he strained his eyes enough, he'd find them.

he wasn't looking at simon, he was looking at ghost.

john knew that ghost hadn't expressed one percent of what he actually wanted to express. he knew as soon as he stormed out of the room when laswell broke the news to the team and returned a couple hours later, gloves discarded somewhere and his knuckles stained with blood. he kept his mouth shut, mind running haywire as he tried to plan out anything, anything to get even a sliver of news about your whereabouts.

he could feel kate stare at him with calculating eyes and something akin to guilt swimming in them. he could feel simon stare at his form as he paced around the room, hands fidgeting as he fought the urge to call soap and gaz every minute.

kate's gaze didn't bother him, simon's did because it mirrored his hopelessness.

he was so lost in his own guilt and desperation and defeat that he didn't hear the footsteps thundering down the hallway, not until they were right in front of them and the door slammed open. it was only then he looked to see soap panting, a small piece of paper in his hands and he pointed to it back and forth and for a moment, john could feel the sickening sense of hope swell in his chest.

gaz was right behind soap, seemingly in a better position to speak than the latter and plucked the piece of paper from his teammate's hands and held it out for john to see.

"what — "

"we managed to trace the owner of the car that was seen going around your block more than eighteen times," gaz informed, eyes flickering to ghost who had now made his way towards their small group and back to his captain in front of him. "the car was brought under a very... creative way, three shell companies and we traced each one of them back to a single corporation."

"they have these warehouses, right outside of the town," soap continued, taking notice of the desperation in his captain's eyes and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, "it's a very good chance she's there."

"how sure are you?" it was the first time ghost opened his mouth ever since he joined john and kate. his voice gave away nothing and to anyone, it must have sounded like he was just talking about any other mission but john knew that it took everything for him to keep his voice steady and strong.

"damn sure, lt."

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

john remembered the first time he had the 'when i'm gone' talk with you.

you were eleven, and it killed him inside when he realised that he would have to make you understand the risks in his line of work.

he remembered the way you threw him the dirtiest look you could muster, the most withered glare set on your face as soon as he said the words and he had to stop and blink in surprise because goddamn, his daughter was scary.

he remembered the way you shook your head at his every 'understand?' the way you tried to run off to your room and you would've, if not for his arms shooting out to catch you before you could bolt. the way you told him to be quiet as politely as you could when he continued, denial in your eyes at the prospect of your dad going away and not coming back.

he remembered his heart cracking in two when you looked up at him with tears in your eyes and he almost stopped himself, cursing himself in his mind because you shouldn't have to sit here and listen to him telling you what to do in case his dog tags came back and he didn't.

you managed to get yourself free from his hold and rush upstairs to your room and he didn't have it in himself to call you back down and you both left it at that.

the second time he tried to have the talk with you was when you turned eighteen and he got shot on a mission.

the way you looked at him when he woke up in the hospital still haunted him on nights when he couldn't sleep and he knew that he was basically torturing you with this. going away and not providing any guarantee that he would come back but he couldn't.

he could leave tomorrow and say that he'd be back in time for christmas and there would still be a chance that he'd end up coming back home in a casket.

he couldn't give you the security of his arrival but he could prepare you in case anything ever happened and he did. he set apart bank accounts for you, under a different name and a different address. he brought two different apartments in the city, under a different name and a different address. he brought a small house and trusted that you would make it a home, under a different name and a different address. he made sure that you would be okay if he left, after he left and he knew he did a damn good job with it.

you didn't do the same.

he prepared you on how to live if he went away before it was time but he never prepared himself for if, god forbid, you were gone. he never had to because what kind of father would want to come to terms with the knowledge that their kid could leave before them?

"hey — hey, honey," he brushed the hair out of your face, his facade slowly crumbling away with his fingers came back stained with blood — your blood. his gun lays discarded next to him and he almost wants to go back and bullet a few more bullets in those bastards' heads for your condition. "you still with me?"

"dad..." you whispered, eyes fluttering close with fatigue and blood loss as your head rested against the wall. he could see the way you forced your eyelids to stay open, your grip on his hand weak and so delicate that he wanted to scream.

"i'm here, i'm here," he murmured, stroking your cheek to keep you awake while you both waited for the clear signal from the rest. his hands were shaking and he was sure that his heartbeat could be heard by everyone else on the comms but even then, he had to be strong. "i'm here, my sweet girl."

"you know," you forced these words out, eyes unfocused and dazy as you made an attempt to smile at his terror stricken face, "now's my turn to do the 'when i'm gone' talk. you already had two chances."

"NO! no — no, no," he shook his head, eyes blurring ever so slightly as the chaos over the comms became white noise to him. "we will never be having his conversation. ever. i'm supposed to go first and it'll be me. i don't care if i have to fight the fucking grim reaper for this, it'll be me and never you, you hear me? never — never you."

"when i'm gone," you continued as if he didn't practically tell you that he'd fight the devil if you went first and held onto his hand just a little bit tighter, as tight as your wounds would allow you to, "i want you to continue to invite simon around."

"darling — "

"no, please. i know you both and i know you'll just go away from the things that remind you of me and i don't want that," you talked quietly, your voice dipped in pain and john used his free hand to apply more pressure on it and when you didn't really wince or made a move to recoil back, his panic grew. "you both will remind each other of me and i don't want that to just hurt you more. invite him over, have tea, talk shit about me and — and just, keep him company. keep yourself some company."

"none of that is happening because you're not going away," john spoke sternly, his eyes determined and so confident that for a moment, he himself believed that you'd walk away from his alive and breathing. "we have years ahead of us and someone needs to be with me to make fun of riley for liking that stupid sitcom."

"i want you to be happy, dad," you continued, eyes fluttering close and stay shut for me even a longer time now and john panicked. "always happy."

"only when i have you," he shook you awake, your eyes shooting open at the motion and he almost cried in relief. he set you firmly against the wall and withdrew his hand from your grasp to talk over the comms. "lads, how's it looking?"

"positive, i believe. how's our miss soldier doing, sir?" gaz asked and john heard the occasional shower of bullets from his side and figured they were still stuck in the crossfire. "any damage to that billion dollar outfit of hers?"

"well, it's stained with blood now, so," john replied dryly and could feel gaz draw in a sharp inhale at that and figured he'd be out of the harm's way soon. "keep me updated."

he knew ghost was nearby, could feel his boots echoing in the almost empty hallways down the corridor and knew that you both were safe and secure. it was only when he looked away from the corner and back towards you that he noticed your limp hands and the way your head was slumped forward. he hands shook as he cupped your face and called out your name, almost hopefully.

"darling? honey, you gotta wake up," he spoke, almost inaudible and his own voice sounded foreign to him. it sounded too hollow and he hated that it looked like he had already accepted that you were gone. you were not. "come on, love. don't do this to your dad."

his hands were shaking terribly and blood smeared across your cheeks but he didn't care. all that he cared about was that you were there, still and so silent in his arms and you were not answering him. his could feel his heart break. he could make out exactly where it hurt him physically as he repeatedly called out your name and you did not respond.

heavy footsteps sounded from behind him and he didn't have to turn to know that it was simon — ghost, in that moment. he didn't have it in himself to turn. partly because you were here in his arms right now and if he turned, you being gone would be reality and he didn't wanna face that. partly because he didn't want simon to see you like that. blood trickling down the side if your head, face smeared with blood and a wound in the abdomen. no, john wanted simon to remember you happy, smiling and alive.

he wanted simon to have that much, even if his own last memory of you was you begging him to stay happy after your death.

and he thought about it. as he cradled your body close, rocking back and forth, he thought it was simply impossible. as if he'd ever be happy again without you here.

he didn't notice simon walk closer, didn't see him walk around to crouch in front of him and only realised that he was here when he called out his name. he couldn't even hear it clearly, high pitched ringing in his head and blurring images in front of him, the feeling of your blood on your hands, it was all just too much.

" — tain? captain?" simon called out, his eyes locking with his and john knew that it costed ghost his everything not to stare at you. his skull mask laid discared next to him, his signature balaclava in its place as he kneeled down. john could see the way his hold on his gun was too loose and the way his hands were trembling just the slightest bit as placed his gun back in his holster. "we need to get out of here."

"doesn't matter," john replied, his voice not giving away the turmoil in his heart and the war that was going on in his head. "she's gone, ghost."

"cap — "

"my daughter, she — fuck, my kid," john exhaled shakily, his hands carefully pushing away the strands of your hair out of your face. "lord, i don't have a child anymore."

"captain — "

"you don't get it, i'm not a father anymore!" john exclaimed, his voice breaking in the middle of the sentence as reality settled in. the weight of it seeped into his bones and he knew that he would carry its weight for the rest of his life. until he saw you again. "i'm not a dad, anymore."

he couldn't let you go, couldn't place you down and let you be gone from him. he couldn't accept it and why would he want to? what kind of father would he be if he just accepted that he was never going to hear someone call him 'dad' ever again? he'd never hear the words 'i love you, dad' or 'good morning, dad' or see your face smiling at him after he came back from a particularly long and stressful deployment or have you hug him whenever you got a nightmare or drink tea with you and simon as he joked about your relationship with his lieutenant. how was he going to accept this cruel and wretched version of reality?

"you'll always be a dad, captain," simon spoke quietly, his hand reaching out to smooth your hand down and just like his own hands, john noticed that it shook. "always gonna be her dad."

john couldn't do anything except watch. he tried to move, his mind screamed at him to move but his body caged him down. the dead weight of you — his daughter — weighted him down and for a moment, he was so sure that he'd feel this weight for the rest of his life. because, how was he supposed to forget the way you asked him to be okay after you? how was he supposed to be okay after you?

how was anyone supposed to be okay after you?

he blinked, eyes stinging with tears that he refused to let down and looked towards simon who was too quiet. john looked at him, watched him as he leaned down until his forehead was pressed against yours and felt an invisible knife twist around his heart. he could see the balaclava move and figured he was saying something to you but the ringing in head refused to let him hear anything, though, he thought that he heard the words 'come back' and 'don't do this to me' and felt his heart break some more. he had never — never — seen his lieutenant look so hopeless. so defeated. not when he found out that you both had broken up for some indefinite reason, not when he got injured on a mission and the only thing he asked for was you, not when you had made it your mission to paint his nails and only relented after his nails were a shade of wine red.

no.

john had always seen ghost so full of life around you. he had always seen his eyes crinkling at the corners as he spoke to you in low tones, always seen his shoulders dropping from their usual tense posture whenever he was around you. he had always seen him as simon around you.

john looked at him and realised that not only did he lose his daughter, simon lost the love or his life. he lost the one thing and one thing only that made him the happiest. he knew simon loved you even though he hadn't said the words out loud out, he knew he loved you. it was evident in the way only you were allowed to hold onto his mask for him as he adjusted his balaclava, in the way he always listened to you speak about anything and everything under the sun and never once interrupted you, in the way he always brought back something for you from his missions, ranging from a rock to a dried flowers.

john looked at him and realised that at any cost, he'd have to make it through this, for simon. for your promise.

for you.

he nodded, not trusting his voice to say anything and moved to stand up, your head lolled against his shoulder as he placed his hand under your knees while the other wrapped around your shoulders. he stood up as carefully as he could, as if any movement would cause you discomfort and held on tighter to push himself to be on his feet and — you whimpered, your wound pressing against his vest and your dad stilled, frozen alongside simon whose eyes shot towards your face as you stirred, your expression scrunched up with pain.

it didn't take more than a second for ghost to abandon his gloves and check your pulse as you went still once again, forcing his hands to stay still. john pretended not to hear him whisper 'please' under his breath as he placed his hand on the side of your neck, mainly because he knew he would break down if simon didn't hold himself together.

he looked at ghost who nodded and then he was already off, walking swiftly in front of john and you as he put on back his gloves and drew his gun to clear out anything that could show up, making a path from their corner to the evacuation point. john walked as fast as he could without jostling you and mumbled rapid apologies as you groaned in pain.

"we're heading out," ghost informed soap and gaz who were on the other side of the floot, drawing out any left hostile parties left. he filled them in your condition and in less than thirty seconds, they were running towards the three of you, panting and guns drawn. "she has already lost consciousness and we need to get her back."

john could only walk wherever ghost turned, his movements a bit too robotic and as they cleared out the building, the only thought he had was you, your safety, your life.

he doesn't remember much of the ride home but judging by the blood — your blood — on his hands and clothes, and the number of times gaz asked him if he was okay, he wasn't sure if he wanted to.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

"so, i pass out from the pain and blood loss and your first guess is that i'm dead?"

"well, when you put it like that — "

"there is no other way to put it!" you laughed, instantly regretting your decision to do so as the action pulled on your stitches. "fuck — that's a bit dramatic, don't you think? did you even check my pulse?"

"listen — i was not thinking. my girl was just laying there in her own blood, what was i supposed to do?"

it's been more than a couple weeks since you've been discharged from the hospital, stitches in your abdomen and the side of your head but it's mostly inconvenient rather than painful if you could be honest and john and simon both know this because you have expressed this opinion far too many times.

john and simon both disagreed.

you wish you could say that they had toned the whole scary-guard-dog thing down ever since you got discharged from the hospital but you'd be lying. if anything, their protectiveness dialled a few notches up. if your dad was busy with something, simon stayed with you and vice versa.

now, your dad was protective. you had always known this. if you thought that there was no way he'd be able to get more protective than he was before this whole ordeal, you thought wrong. you weren't allowed to get up from your bed unless it was to stretch your muscles — (simon volunteered to help you with that. you dad threw his boot at him. thrice and then one more time for good measure.) — or to use the bathroom. you were on strict diet for the first week, mainly consisting of fluids and lots of proteins alongside the years' worth of medicine you had to take. he stayed home, officially on leave until he was sure you wouldn't collapse after standing for more than seven seconds and then he stayed for an extra week simply because he wanted to.

("i think i can pick up the remote without popping out my stitches."

"'m not talking any chances, kid.")

and then, there was simon.

if you thought that there could be no more increase in the protective measures after your dad, simon set out to prove you so wrong.

he stayed with you even after your dad went back to the base and that meant he stayed with you. you couldn't move an inch without his hand coming up to stabilize you — you told him you didn't need it, he disagreed — or just straight up pushing you back to sit down, gently and doing whatever you were out to do. it made your life just a tad bit difficult but you knew this was coming from a place of love — and fear.

"i'm okay," you smiled softly at your boyfriend, hands intertwining with his as you both laid on the couch while your dad worked in the kitchen, occasional shouts and gasps announcing his continued presence. "i'm okay."

"the fuck? you are not," simon's eyebrows were furrowed and you fought the urge to lean up and kiss the spot until he relaxed, partly because it would put pressure on your stitches and you did not need another lecture on basic medical knowledge by your dad and your boyfriend again. "don't make me tie to your bed."

"don't threaten me with a good time," you laughed softly at his blank stare, squirming away as he poked one of almost healed bruises. "fuck you."

"you're injured, not now," you could practically feel the smirk behind his mask and gave him the best unimpressed look you could. "stop lookin' at me like that."

"when was the last time you slept?" you ignored his advances and slapped away his hand that was coming up to tug you towards him, looking him in the eye. "you look worse than me."

"i'm breaking up with you."

"no, you're not."

"no, i'm not," simon sighed, his hand coming up to run through his grown blonde hair that he had intended to get cut — not by you because he doesn't trust you with scissors anywhere near his head. "i slept last night."

"liar," you narrowed your eyes at him, taking in the dark circles around his eyes and the way his eyes were droopy and how his eyes remained close when he blinked. "i heard you watching that movie you told me you hated."

"i was not — "

"simon," you sighed and he stopped speaking, knowing he was in for a lecture from you about his sleeping habits and his biological sleep cycle — something you wasn't even sure existed in his body. "love, why haven't you been able?"

he stayed silent, his hands fumbling with your hands and twisting your rings around your fingers. he almost smiled when he noticed the ring that he had made for you on your ring finger, a small 's' in the middle with a semblance of a tiny heart next to it.

"haven't been able to," he replied finally, his voice gruff with faux annoyance directed at your ability to coax answers out of him just like that. "too much going on."

you knew what he meant by that. the last couple weeks have been hectic to say the least and you couldn't help but feel guilty about being a part of the reason for your boyfriend not being able to sleep. "i'm sorry."

"shut up, what for?" he rolled his eyes and placed a fleeting kiss to your cheek, very near to your mouth before leaning back. "i'd take a few sleepless nights over your bleeding out any day."

you didn't say anything, just tugged on his arms firmly enough to make him get the hint and settle back into the mountain of pillows you had brought down from your room. he looked at you, a confused look in his eyes but complied as you pulled him towards yourself and wrapped your arms around him, smiling when he nuzzled into the crook of your neck and finally, relaxed. he pulled back just for a moment, one of his hands coming up to squeeze yours when you frowned at the lack of contact while the other one pulled away his mask, leaving his face bare.

you had seen his face many times but each time, you found yourself falling in love more and more. you knew each and every scar that adorned his face, every inch of uneven skin. you had spent nights kissing all that he thought made him ugly and promised him that he thought so wrong. you said nothing as he looked at you once again, eyea squinting at you playfully before he was back in your arms.

"i love you so much, you know that?" you whispered, your hand playing with his hair. you could feel him press feather light kisses to your neck, his breath fanning over your exposed skin making a trail of goosebumps and you didn't mind it one bit. "you know that right?"

he hummed in reply, pressing himself as close to you as he physically could. you didn't stop playing with his hair, knowing how much it relaxed him and soon him, he went completely still next to you, his grip on your loosening just a bit as he went slack. you couldn't help but admire him when he was like this, his face free of the usual scowl that he pulled up with him at every table, the furrow of his eyebrow that you always kissed, the frown that he had whenever anyone spoke, it was all gone.

you didn't hear your dad come in, a tray of three steaming cups of tea in his hands and settled it down on the centre table, proud of himself. he picked up your usual cup, strawberries drawn on it with a few daisies in the middle spaces and gave it to you, smiling softly before turning to look at simon — who to his surprise, was fast asleep against your shoulder.

"he's knocked out," john remarked, making a mental note to make another cup of tea for simon whenever he woke up and settled back into his designated chair adjacent to yours. "never saw him this... relaxed."

"yeah, well," you sipped out of your cup before placing it on the side table, eyes flickering to simon's still figure before looking back at your dad, a small smile on your lips, "he's been pretty set on not letting me lift a finger."

"he's worried about you," your dad nodded and you couldn't help but feel your heart flutter. "never seen him so out of mind. you know he loves you, right? he would fold the earth in the half if anything happened to you."

"i know, dad," you replied, eyes locked on simon as he slept next to you. you could see his chest rising and falling with every breath he took, his lips slightly parted as he breathed in and out evenly. "i don't even know how i'm supposed to tell him just how much he means to me. i don't know where to begin."

"he knows," he stated, sipping out of his own mug — with small yellow crowns — and setting it back down. "you'll both make it, you know? don't need to see the future to figure that out."

you knew what he was talking about.

you'd make it. of course, you would. it was simon who held your hand randomly while you walked around your town. it was simon who made sure that you were always stocked up with your favourite candies and chocolates. it was simon who learnt how to make paper rings because you were singing that song about how you'd marry him with paper rings. it was simon, always.

and even if this lifetime was enough for you, you knew that you'll find yourself falling for him in every other life. in all the universes out there, in every version of reality, you'd find yourself in love with him. you knew this much, you felt it in your bones.

maybe in another life, you would've seen him from across the bar and he would've sent a drink your way. maybe you would've ran into him at a coffee shop and he would've asked you your favourite blend. maybe you would've been childhood friends and he would've always been in love with you.

it would always be you and him.

"yeah, i know."

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

[footy-fictionist]

Insecurities - Karim Adeyemi

Pairing: Karim Adeyemi x female reader

Warnings: talk of insecurities in academic knowledge, little bit of angst, a curse word here or there

Word count: 1077

Note: This just came to mind and I thought it was a good idea. If I have missed anything in the warnings please let me know. Again, English is not my first language, I don't know Karim in real life so this is pure fiction and part of my imagination. Please do not copy or repost my work, reblogging is fine though!

Karim was never interested in school. When he talked about school, he told everyone how he didn’t do anything and the ways of telling his parents about school. How he was honest with his dad and said he failed his test because of football, whilst lying to his mum and saying that the questions were too difficult. So imagine everyone’s surprise when Karim started dating a teacher. One who had a huge passion for teaching and helping her students grow. 

Karim was used to busy days of training, traveling and games. It’s safe to say he never thought he would find a girlfriend that is busier than he is. It isn’t just teaching, it’s endless meetings with both co-workers and parents, paperwork and grading, preparing lessons and following courses to stay up-to-date with the changes in education. It almost makes Karim feel bad about the way he was in school. How he just didn’t put in any effort, when there are teachers like his girlfriend who give their all.

There are three big problems when it comes to dating her though. One, she would spend endless nights getting everything ready. Two, the teasing from his friends and family. And last but not least, how she absolutely crushes him when it comes to game night. He’s about ready to ban 30 Seconds from game night. She’s like a walking encyclopedia. When she’s on his team, he’s over the moon. But unfortunately for him, she isn’t this time. They invited some of his teammates and their spouses over for a game night. 

They all decided to draw names from a hat to figure out the partners for 30 seconds. Karim and Jude end up as a pairing, which isn’t bad, but according to Karim it isn’t great either. She teams up with Nico, which is everyone’s worst nightmare. Both of them know quite a lot, but together they are a well oiled machine. They fly through the cards, scoring 5 points on almost every turn. Karim is starting to think they’re cheating and their laughs and happy high fives/shoulder bumps are getting on his nerves. And everyones teasing just doesn’t end when he and Jude barely get any points.

“I thought you’d be better at this Karim. You’re dating a teacher. Everyone would think you’d pick up some facts from that alone.” “Wow man, you really should’ve done better in school.” “Guess those jokes about failing tests are backfiring now.”

The last comment is the last drop. Karim stands up abruptly and stalks towards the kitchen. It shocks everyone to see him walk out of the room like that, he can usually take the jokes. What they don’t know is that dating her makes Karim insecure. He knows he doesn’t know as much as she does and with everyone pointing it out. It makes him think he’s not good enough and that she should be with someone smarter, someone like Nico who did pay attention in school. For fucks sake, Nico even knows how to sew clothes. 

In the living room, she gets up to go after Karim. She’s also a little confused, Karim is always calm and collected, even when he’s angry. She walks into the kitchen to find him leaning against the counter, his back facing her. She slowly walks his way and softly wraps her arms around his waist. His tense form immediately relaxes a little. They just stay like that for a minute before he turns around in her arms and he wraps his arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. Her arms tighten around his waist as well, her face resting in the crook of Karim’s neck. 

“You okay baby?”

She softly murmurs against the skin of his neck. It makes a shiver run through his body. He just nods and holds her that little bit closer. He almost panics when she starts to pull away, only to calm down again when she holds his cheeks and puts her forehead against his. 

“Are you sure? It’s like you snapped out of nowhere.”

“I’m fine, I just… Are you sure you should be dating me?”

His question shocks her so much that her hands leave his face. Her mouth drops open, forehead losing contact with his, as she stares at him incredulously. 

“What are you on about? How does that question even cross your mind? I’m crazy about you, what makes you think I shouldn’t be dating you. You’ve stolen every single piece of my heart.” 

“I just think you might be better off with someone that’s smarter than me. Someone who actually paid attention in school. Someone that can match you in these games, someone like Nico.”

Her eyes rake over his face, studying his eyes and the emotions swimming in them. She’s not sure if he means what he’s saying. As far as she knows, she’s never doubted their relationship because she’s a teacher and he hated school. She loves that they are different like that. And she thought he felt the same way. 

“I would never be better off with Nico. Nico is your best friend and my friend. You have never doubted your friendship with him even though you differ in academics. And there is no reason to doubt our relationship for it. My work is just that, work. You Karim are everything to me. You are my private life, where I am the happiest I’ve ever been. Yes, I love my job and the kids. But I’ll never love it and them more than you. I don’t care if you know the full encyclopedia or if you know nothing at all. I love you for you and I would never even think of replacing you in my life.”

This time it’s Karim that studies her. He can tell that she’s telling the absolute truth, not a single trace of a lie. She’s clearly determined to convince him of her love for him and he’s never been more grateful to have her.

“I love you.”

It’s the only thing he responds with, but it’s enough. She understands every underlying thought. She leans her forehead back against his, happy to just be as close to him as possible for the moment. They stay like that for another minute before she pulls away and grabs his hand. They walk back into the living room, no one commenting on it. The night continues as though nothing happened and all is well again.

[verybadatwriting]

A Strange Pair

Lestrange!ReaderXFred Weasley

Summary: Fred Weasly and Y/n Lestrange make things work, despite the familial differences

Warnings: Descriptions of reader’s hair, unsupportive parents, abusive parents, probably mentions of mass genocide, bad eating habits/food scarcity, nightmares, dislike of self (specifically hair)

Notes: Your dad in this story looks just like you do in real life, I just wanna make it abundantly clear that you look like you. IDK if I’m explaining it right. I tried to keep it gn, as usual.

Part 2

Gn!reader

Word count: 3,547

In all but two ways, you looked like your father. Same skin, eyes, everything. The two things that didn't line up, and that people always immediately noticed, was that you had your mother’s smile and her hair. Thick, curly, and quite untamable. Since your first year at Hogwarts, you’d been told both were too reminiscent of her.

Many people had serious grudges against your parents, especially your mother. That was completely understandable. You had never really liked her. Or maybe you loved her. Sometimes even you didn’t know. There were times when she was a monster, and others where she wasn’t quite loving, but better than the monster. It didn’t make sense, to you or to anyone else. 

Outsiders thought you would be just like her. A monster. Teachers included. All the (secretly) loyal Death Eaters thought you were too soft and not at all like the woman they’d fought alongside, and who had gained the Dark Lord’s attention. In your own family that was the sentiment. Not good enough. Too soft. Not Slytherin Enough.

When you were a toddler, you’d made the mistake of asking if she loved you.

“No.” She had replied simply, then elaborated, “You’re my flesh and bone. Even that’s not enough to make up for your nature. Additionally, love is a distraction. A distraction from the one thing that truly matters…” 

You’d run crying to your father, who simply told you that’s the way she was. That was the last time you cried. Later that day, you were sitting with your aunt Narssissa and her newborn son. As you listened to her baby-talk to him, you started to resent your mother. You once overheard her say she expected you to be one of the small burned marks on the Black Family Tree. 

That resent didn’t pass during the war, or your parent’s sentencing for the torture of the Longbottoms, it only grew. For four years you lived with the Malfoys. Draco saw you as an older sibling, and you saw him as a tragically misguided child. In those four years you became disillusioned with the Death Eaters, mainly after more research into the attack on the Longbottoms. 

During your first two years at Hogwarts you befriended the Weasley twins, who were in the same year as you. Fred liked you and vice versa, and by your fifth year you were a couple. His mom didn’t approve, and you doubted your mother would either. You didn’t care, nor did he.

The outside observer couldn't fathom why you were together, you seemed like complete opposites. He was the life of the party, from a big family that fought on the right side of the war. In fact, the only thing you seemed to have in common was the nack for getting into trouble, especially with that wretched new pink-clad teacher. Umbridge.

You knew of the twin’s plan to set off fireworks and start a shop. The night before they enacted it, you and Fred were cuddled up on a couch in the Gryffindor common room, late at night. George sat across from you two.

“And then we’ll make our grand exit!” Fred said.

“Along with dropping fliers for our store.” George said.

“I think that Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes will be the most popular shop in Diagon Alley.” You said.

“At least among trouble-making youngsters.” George added. You three chuckled for a moment.

“Where are you going for the holidays?” You asked.

“We’ll probably stop by our mum’s house.” Fred said, “Unless she completely flips out about us deserting school and disowns us.” He realized what he’d said and sucked in a quick breath. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You said, “I don't think your mom would do something like that. Setting off a few hundred fireworks and leaving school isn’t the worst thing you two have done.” 

The twins laughed, and made sure not to be too loud. You were not supposed to be in their common room and someone finding out about the three of you meeting would have had disastrous consequences.

Around midnight George turned in for the night, and advised you and Fred to do the same.

“We will.” Fred said, “Just a few more minutes.” George went up the stairs, leaving Fred and you curled up on the couch together. After a few moments of silence, you spoke.

“If you and George want to stop by over Christmas…” You said, “Here’s where to find me.” You pulled away slightly to scribble down an address on a slip of paper and handed it to him along with an envelope with a key in it.

“It’s not the biggest apartment, but there’s enough room for three.”

“Thanks, love.” He kissed the crown of your head, “We really should get to bed, George and I need to be rested up.”

“I’m gonna miss you, Freddie.” You said.

“I will too.” He echoed, “Now that I have this,” He waved the slip of paper, “We’ll be seeing eachother often.”

The next few months flew by, like the twins had flown from Umbridge. You kept your head down at Hogwarts, and worked hard. Fred and George often sent letters, and you sent many as well. Over the summer, the letters were filled with invitations to visit them. Sadly, you had to decline. You were working your butt off to keep your apartment. Rent had gone up drastically.

You and your cat lived in an apartment in the Muggle side of London over the breaks. It was pretty nice, although strangely shaped. The entryway had a bedroom on the right, then it opened into a kitchen/living/dining room with windows. If you continued going forward from the door, the wall curved to the right ever so slightly, the bathroom’s on your left, and at the end of the hall is a second, smaller, bedroom.

It was always empty. It had furniture, chairs, beds, and such. All you brought with you each visit was a single suitcase enchanted against water, fire, and anything else you and Dumbledore could think of. That contained all your documents, money, a few prized possessions, and photos.

You had to save up enough to send rent while you were at Hogwarts, so that you could move back in during the breaks. All summer you worked tirelessly. Fred’s letters were what kept you going.

A lonely school year started in September 1996. After what felt like an eternity of studying and ignoring Umbridge, Winter Break finally rolled around. You briefly made eye contact with Mrs. Weasley on Platform 9 ¾. She glared at you, and you continued on your way.

You went home to your apartment, with arrangements to start work the next day. All you could do was head to bed. The next morning you woke up at five thirty to get to work. By six you were out the door. 

Six to six forty was commuting. Very different from Hogwarts, where you often didn’t have to leave the building. Crammed into the Tube, you didn’t even get a seat. After a hellish morning commute you got to the cheap chain restaurant you worked at every break.

Over your lunch break your boss pulled you aside.

“Hi Y/n.” He said, “It’s lovely to have you back, such a hard worker… Anyway! We’re cutting your hours.”

“What.” You said.

“We’ve learned to manage well enough without you.”

“Sir, we had an agreement.”

“I know…” He said, “Things change, plus we never signed anything official. I can still get you some hours, but they’ll be at odd times. Not enough people are signed up for the midnight to seven for tomorrow. I can get you that shift for sure and you’ll get at least seven hours a day.”

Somehow managing to not flip out at your manager, you politely nodded.

“Does today’s shift have the usual times?”

“Yes, you’ll get off at four.” He said, “Speaking of which, get to work.”

 

Hours later, after changing out of your slightly greasy uniform and folding it in the bottom of your bag, you left work to do two things. Get food for the week, and see if there was any way to make some more money. If you only got seven hours going forward there was no way you’d be able to keep the apartment.

Six pm rolled around and you walked into your apartment. You’d had no luck with getting a second job, especially since your availability during the school year was nonexistent. You did pick up a few packs of instant noodles and some cat food. At least your pet would be happy.

Turning the handle, your cat acknowledged you by lifting her head.

“Thanks for the warm welcome.” You said, “I brought dinner for you. It looks like it’s just us. Again.” You opened the food and plonked a bit in her bowl. While she ate, you thought about making a packet of the noodles, and decided against it. 

For all his failings, your manager was always alright with the workers sneaking a sandwich every now and then. You’d just eat in six hours when you got to work. That would have to do. You crawled into bed to sleep for a few hours.

Something woke you up. It was the sound of someone trying to navigate somewhere without being too loud. There was a knock at your bedroom door.

“Hey? Y/n?” A familiar voice said.

“What if we have the wrong house?” Said another.

“Then the key wouldn’t have worked, George.” Said Fred, “I thought my twin would be a bit smarter. Honestly.”

“Freddie?” You asked, opening the door.

“The one and only.” The two of you embraced in a kiss and stayed like that for a moment. Then you heard George bumbling around in the kitchen.

“Oh Merlin.” You sighed, “What on earth is your brother doing?”

“I don’t know.” Fred said, “Do we want to go find out?”

Turns out he was cooking. 

“Hi Y/n!” He said, “I’m making dinner. This fellow,” He motioned to Fred, “Was so set on getting here as soon as possible that he didn’t let us stop to eat! I’m making some for you too.”

“Oh George.” You said, “It’s fine, I’ll eat when I go to work.”

“That’s hours away!” He protested. “Do you just not like my cooking?”

“Fine.” You said, jokingly angry. “I’ll join you, but I’ve got to get to bed soon.”

“Why?” Fred teased, “Got a hot date?”

“No!” You guffawed, “I got the late shift at work. It starts at midnight.”

“Aw, I’m sorry, love.” He said.

“Y/n,” George said, “I suggest you get some rest. It’s nearly ten thirty right now and, with all due respect, you need some sleep.”

“Jeez, I look that bad?” You chuckled.

“Georgie,” Fred said, “I’m gonna go make sure they actually sleep.” He slung his arm around your shoulder. A few moments later, you were snuggled in bed together. He was the big spoon, and had one arm looped around your waist while the other served as a pillow. Silence settled for a while.

“Your hair’s in my mouth.” He said. This happened a lot when you were the little spoon. Another reason to hate your hair. You adjusted a little and that fixed it. As Fred was drifting off to sleep, he murmured something.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Freddie.”

Eleven thirty came about, and your alarm woke you up. Quietly, you tried to remove Fred’s arm and slip away without waking him up. You were unsuccessful. 

“Hmm?” He tightened his arm, “What’s going on?”

“I’m just going to work,” You yawned, exhausted.

“Do you have to?”

“Yes,” You replied, still gently trying to move his arm. “It’s how I can afford to keep this apartment.”

“Do you have to?”

“Do I have to keep my apartment?”

“Yeah.” He sleepily nodded.

“Fred,” You sighed, “It’s where I live.”

“I know, but that could change.”

“Where else would I go?”

“George and I have an apartment, a lot like this one, right above our shop.” He said, “There’s only two beds, but personally, I wouldn’t mind sharing with you.” You thought for a moment, not quite sure if this was the ramblings of a sleepyhead who wanted more cuddles, or if Fred was serious.

“Well.” You said, “My boss will wonder where I am.”

“Just call and say you’re sick.” He yawned, “Or say there’s a family emergency.”

“I suppose that could work. Either way, I have to get out of bed.” Reluctantly, Fred lifted his arm. Within minutes you were back, and snuggled next to him again.

Fred awoke to you suddenly sitting bolt-upright, soaked in sweat and looking really shaken up. He sat up next to you, and slowly took your hands in his.

“Hey Y/n.” He said, “You’re okay. You’re safe.” Your initial instinct was to pull away, until the more rational side of your brain took over and you remembered that Fred wasn’t a threat. 

“It’s okay,” He repeated, “Can you take some deep breaths, love? There you go. Good job.” You leaned onto him, relieved to have some form of comfort.

“Do you wanna talk about it, or lie back down?” He asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” You whispered.

“That’s alright.” He soothed, “We can stay like this.” And you did. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around you until you were ready to talk about the nightmare.

“It was… Well not quite a flashback,” You said, “I was there again. The cold walls. The firelight. Everything was the exact same…” You trailed off.

“Same as when?” Fred asked.

“Same as it was the first time.” You replied. This only slightly confused Fred, you had mentioned the ‘times’ a whole lot, although you never went into detail. This time, you told him all of it.

“I was an infant.” You continued, “Crying simply because that’s what babies do. That demon – my mother – used Crucio on me.” 

Fred sucked in an involuntary sharp breath.

“I eventually learned to stop crying. For good.”

“Oh God…” Fred said, “Y/n. I’m…” He trailed off and hoped his message would get through as he pressed a kiss to your head. 

“Thanks.” You said, “Let’s lie down now.”

“Of course.”

You awoke late in the morning. At first you panicked, thinking you’d drastically overslept, but then you felt Fred next to you and remembered it was alright. George was cooking breakfast, and when he heard the two of you waking up he poked his head in.

“Morning love birds,” He said, “What do you want to eat?”

“Uh,” You said, “I don’t have anything here. Just a few instant ramen packets.”

“Psh,” George said, “Silly of you to assume we didn’t bring food. I suggest you have pancakes, there’s some from the first batch on the table.” He left the room.

Throughout the day Fred insisted you relax. You found out he was completely serious about inviting you to live with them. In the afternoon, you contacted your boss to say you were moving. He threw a hissy fit because you gave such short notice.

“Well, sir,” You replied, “You seemed to be getting along just fine without me. I had the option to completely ghost you and never speak to you again. I’ll be there to return my uniform later today.” And then hung up the phone. 

“Freddie?” You said, “I need to make a quick run to work and drop off my uniform, wanna come?”

“Of course.” He said, “Is George joining us?”

“Only if he wants.”

The three of you walked down to the nearest Tube station. You bought the twins their own cards, and showed them how they worked. Unlike your usual commutes, this Tube trip was enjoyable. Fred and George were amazed at the underground trains, and how scanning a flimsy piece of paper caused the turnstiles to open. 

That night you called the Knight Bus to get to Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. On the ride you discussed their plans for Christmas. Their mom had invited them over Christmas Day. The only reason they weren’t there right now is because they were waiting for a reply. 

“Why do you need a reply from her?” You asked, “You’ve already been invited.”

“I wanted to know if you could come with us.” Fred said. “I expect there’s a letter waiting patiently for us back home.” 

Sure enough, there was a letter carefully slid underneath the door. It was from Mrs. Weasley, who begrudgingly extended the invitation to you.

‘If it is necessary for the Lestrange child to come too, I suppose it’s alright.’ She went on to threaten you with bodily harm if you stepped a foot out of line. After reading the letter, Fred lead you to his room. Or rather, your shared room. 

He showed you an empty bureau you could put your stuff in. To his surprise, you only had two extra shirts and pants. It didn’t even fill a single drawer. Later that evening, the three of you used the floo network to travel to the Burrow. 

Polite conversation filled the rooms. Mr. Weasley was very interested in the Muggle world, and was thoroughly enjoying listening to you, Fred, and George explain the underground train system. He had many questions, which bored his wife and helped her lose her death-glare at you. 

Over the course of a few hours she interacted with you once or twice, mainly saying things like ‘excuse me’ when she passed you in a narrow hallway. She did see you and Fred sitting together on the couch, and once again glowered in your direction.

“The way you two flirt is shameful.” She muttered, just loud enough for you and Fred to hear. In reply he simply wrapped an arm around your shoulders and continued the conversation like nothing had happened.

You met a woman named Nymphadora, who insisted everyone call her Tonks. The conversation started when she commented on your hair. With more than a little shame, you told her it was from your mother’s side of the family. It turned out you and her were cousins, although her mother was disowned.

“Oh that’s fun.” You said, “I’m disowned too!” Both of you laughed about it. 

“Yeah, that family really sucks.” Tonks said.

“Tell me about it.” You replied. Eventually the time came, and you went to bed. Through the thin walls you heard Mrs. Weasley fighting with Fred. Muffled voices attacking and defending you.

“I want that demon-spawn out of my house!”

A quiet reply.

“Well go and live with them then! See what I care.”

Fred replied again, just barely audible this time.

“But I love them.”

In the morning Mrs. Weasley looked more pissed than ever that you had the audacity to exist. Despite this, she made Christmas wonderful for everyone. The food was delicious, the spirit was there, blocking out the troubles of the outside world, if only for a little bit.

Evening fell. The next morning you would head back to the twin’s shop, just a few more hours without angering Mrs. Weasley any more and you’d be in the clear. Right as Tonks and Remus were saying their goodnights, a ball of fire rained down from the sky! Your cackling mother appeared out of a cloud of black smoke and the fire encircled the Burrow. As quick as she’d come, she disappeared over the wall of fire.

Harry tried to sprint after her, but you shoved past him. You thrust yourself through the fire, weapons drawn, and slung a knife at your mother’s shoulder. It hit with a sickening ‘thunk.’

“Your aim’s improved.” She said, withdrawing the knife and throwing it back, aiming for your torso. You nimbly caught it. 

“What’s wrong?” She teased, “Not happy to see Mummy?” You chucked another knife at her, this time she caught it midair.

“I see. Giving me the silent treatment.” She nodded. 

“Shut up.” You said, as you chased her further into the tall grass.

“Are you sure you want to stay here and play with me?” She asked, “Don’t you want to make sure your friends are okay? Fenrir sometimes plays a little rough…”

“I said shut up.” You lunged at her, and managed to get in a few good blows before she slashed you across the cheek and rolled to her feet.

“Any particular reason you’re not using magic?” Bellatrix questioned, “I always suspected you were a filthy squi-” At that moment, a jet of flame erupted into the air from the Burrow, and she used your distraction to escape, her cackles ringing in the air.

You rushed back towards the fire, only to see the whole group standing outside the now-burning Burrow. A heartbeat passed as everyone watched the blazing house, then Mrs. Weasley turned to you.

“You.” She spat, “You lead them to us. You are just like your mother. Sick! Get out. Now! Leave!” Molly was near hysterics, her husband was barely able to hold her back from attacking you. 

“Bye Freddie, I’ll see you at home.” You tossed a handful of Floo powder onto the burning Burrow and stepped in. The last word was directed at both Fred, and the fire. A whirlwind of green and you were back in the attic of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. 

“I guess this is home now.”

[kittyphoenix12-xx]

Byergrove Dear Evan Hansen AU

- Jonathan = Evan, Billy = Connor

- Nancy would be a mix of Alana/Zoe, i.e., ‘love interest’ (but also not because it’s byergrove lmao),,,,

- The Wheelers and Hargrove-Mayfields are related. Neil and Karen are brother/sister (this is for the Jonathan/billy confrontation cuz I will not make Jonathan have a crush on Max)

- Max would be Zoe but without the love interest angle. She’s still Billy’s stepsister.

- Steve is Jared and Eddie is Miguel

- This can lead to onesided Jonathan/Steve, past mungrove and future steddie because y not

- Any who

- Jonathan is struggling. His mum, Joyce, had a breakdown last year after his little brother Will was kidnapped/taken by his piece of shit of a dad. His mum, trying to get better, puts them all in therapy (individual)

- His arm is in a cast from trying to kill himself falling out of a tree.

- Dear Jonathan Byers, // This year will be better. I promise. You’re brother is safe, Steve is coming back from Europe and will hang out with you again, and maybe you’ll finally talk to Nancy Wheeler. // Sincerely, Me.

- Note: this is written on the backs of photos Jonathan takes. Instead of just writing letters to himself, his therapist told him to take photos of things that make him happy. (these include some kinda creepy photos of Nancy *important*)

- Steve meets him at school and makes that joke he makes every day. (At least Jonathan hopes it’s a joke, because if his only friend is hanging out with him so his parents will pay for his car then… then… he’ll what? Try to kill himself? Loser)

- Billy is angry. his dad had been real rough last night, left an obvious bruise and made it so he couldn’t do his homework. His teacher had just accused him of being a no-good-high-school-dropout and he was storming out down the corridor, breathing heavily, seeing red and all that shit.

- He slams into Jonathan and before he can say anything, Steve is getting up in his face, calling him an asshole and what not.

- “Steve, it was an accident!” “Yeah, Harrington, didn’t mean to push your boyfriend.” “HE’S NOT MY BOYFRIEND!”

- Note: Steve has internalised homophobia and is, in fact, having a gay panic after he came back from Europe.

- Jonathan flinches at the tone. He knows Steve doesn’t mean it like that, really he does, but he can remember when he was thirteen, admitting in hushed tones that maybe he wanted to kiss a boy. He remembers Steve harsh swallowing and the slamming of a door and the hissed queer that followed. Steve had come back the next day, he always did, but he didn’t apologise, and Jonathan didn’t forget.

- Billy walks off and Nancy Wheeler helps Jonathan off the ground. “Sorry about him,” she says, “He’s having a temper tantrum.” Jonthan feels himself turn red as he takes her hand. He almost forgets to let go.

- He lets go.

- In the computer room, he’s printing off his letter when Billy walks in. They stare at each other awkwardly. “You broke your arm?” “Yeah…” “Can I sign the cast?” “…Sure…”

- Billy sees the pictures Jonathan has taken and Jonathan sees his eyes widen and cant even explain himself before Billy is pinning him to wall, holding them to his face.

- “What the fuck is this?” “I – uh…” “You fucking creep. Why are you taking photos of my cousin?” “Wait!”

- Billy leaves without a backwards glance. The photos lay at Jonathan’s feet, but he realises Billy took the letter with him…

- Sometime later etc etc

- Jonathan goes out for a walk. His mum was in an anxious state, flitting around Will like a nervous butterfly. Jonathan felt suffocated and it wasn’t even him. He needed to get out.

- He goes to the nearby park. He knows Eddie Munson hangs around there at this time, but he cant see the dealer around. But he does see Billy Hargrove’s blue Camaro.

- The car lights are on, but he can’t see anything. Feeling oddly brave, Jonathan goes to check the windows only to find Billy unconscious inside…

- His letter is on the passenger seat.

To be continued because I’m tried rn

[elizaellwrites]

Legacy of the Fallen- Chapter 8

One more for the night...

Prologue

Chapter 1

Last Chapter

Table of Contents

The Traitor

Dear Mother,

The last few days at school have been so strange. Jacob is back after hearing his mum has gone missing, but he hasn’t been himself. He’s distant and almost cold, he usually doesn’t pay much attention to what the teacher is talking about, but he’s not even engaging with what’s going on in class anymore. I’m wondering if he’s going to decide to go home soon because being here isn’t doing him any good. It’s probably hurting him more, with most of our classmates either acting like he personally offended them, or they’re coddling him like a child. It’s ridiculous.

I don’t like that it was announced to our classes that this happened to him, it really should have been kept quiet between Jacob and whoever he chose to share it with. I feel like I shouldn’t know about this, much less the entire student population. He at least seems upset about it, but it’s hard to tell since he hasn’t really talked to any of us. It also seems like he and Asher had a fallout before everything happened since Asher is avoiding Jacob too. Friends are confusing sometimes, but I just feel so bad about everything going on.

I can’t shake the fact that Father knew Jacob’s parents, meaning you probably did too. It’s just such a huge coincidence, especially with how he is here for an exchange programme or something like that, while we just moved here and I have no idea when Father will decide to leave since Joseph is here. I’m not confident about the idea that Father won’t walk into my room and tell me that we’re going to be moving again to who knows where. I’ve gotten my hopes up before, and I know Father well enough to know that he likes to keep moving. My best guess is that we’ll be staying in Rochester for a little longer than usual, maybe closer to four months? Six months?

We will see how everything ends, and I will be okay with whatever it is. We’ve come this far, and as much as I like the people I’ve met here, it’s no different than before.

Annamarie Rose Olson

____________________________

Jol stood on the rock he had met the informant two days prior, his blood boiling in the anticipation of meeting the man again. Despite his superiors encouraging him to take the Hecathian’s offer, he couldn’t feel right about this situation. Why would he have reason to give information that would assist them in the destruction of his species?

The man made his skin crawl, even beyond the fact that he was Hecathian. Rinoas was no one to mess with, having a record of killing or driving those he didn’t see as useful to insanity. Anyone who actively sought him out, much less those making deals with the enemy to see him, he didn’t want to interact with.

He agreed with the queen about how valuable the offered information was, though he still could not understand her level of interest in the Allenesaia girl, nor why the man had known she had been searching for her.

Either way, he had risen while the sky was still dark, his path only lit by the magmatic cracks in the ground. His claws had begun to hurt from being extended in preparation for any sort of attack, whether from wild iruqo, or any other creature that would be out looking for food before the suns rose above the horizon.

He was completely unaware of the man’s presence until the slight sound of his boots hitting rock came from behind him. The unmistakable sound of one of the man’s bronze daggers being unsheathed sent Jol whirling around to face the threat, his wings spreading wide.

“Relax,” the man’s face was still covered, but Jol could hear the smirk in his voice as the dagger was flipped in one hand. “You didn’t think I’d come all the way here just to kill you, did you?"

Jol stifled the growl rising in his chest, his claws digging into the rock as he forced his wings to lower.

“Since you’re here, I’m assuming your queen has accepted my proposition,”  flipped the dagger once again. “It would be foolish for you to come here otherwise.”

His jaw locked in anger, his red eyes flashing in barely controlled rage. “Rinoas is waiting for you as soon as you give us the information you promised.”

“I know the deal,” the man slid the dagger back into its arm sheath. His dark eyes glinted, and the black mixed with evergreen made him uneasy, much like the queen’s advisor’s mixed irises. “Which information are you wanting first?”

“The Academy,” Jol said without hesitation, his eyes narrowing.

“Are we doing this here, or do we have others to meet?”  raised an eyebrow, a hand placed on his hip as he watched Jol for an answer.

“If you think I’m bringing you into our headquarters, then you underestimate how gullible we are.” Jol spat, his wings bristling behind him. “You have given no reason for any of us to trust you.”

“Right,” the man let out a bark of laughter. “And you’re not as dumb as I’ve led myself to believe, I remember.”

Jol couldn’t hold back the growl this time, the sound ripping through the air, silencing the Hecathian’s cackling. “Speak.”

He stood there for a moment, crossing his arms as he contemplated Jol, his hands suspiciously close to the hilts of the weapons he had already threatened him with twice before. “The Academy is on the brink of chaos, the only reason it hasn’t collapsed is because of the man who runs it and exploits it with a blade held to everyone’s throat. All it would take for it to fall is a blow that would finally turn the people’s loyalty away from him.”

Jol’s ears pricked at this information, his interest rising dramatically in what the small amount conveyed.

“He’s surrounded by loyalists, and I’m sure even you could figure out what happens to those who are vocal about their disagreements.” The man scoffed, one hand rising to brush his shoulder absently.

“And how is it that you know this?” Jol questioned. It was too sensitive to be common knowledge, it was highly likely that most living in the academy would buy into whatever the man said. It was common across many of the species he had come across, Hecathians wouldn’t be any different, even if they pretended they were.

The man’s eyes narrowed dangerously, his arms tightening against each other. “Why does it matter? You’re getting the information you want.”

Jol twitched at that, his curiosity about whom this man was rising despite his disdain for him.

“As for the location,” the man continued as if the question hadn’t been asked. “It is near a town called Rochester in the region of Minnesota, located in the United States on Earth. You want more specifics, you will have to find the boundary yourself, but you’ll have the entire remainder of an army on you in an instant.”

“It narrows down where we were looking,” Jol watched the man carefully. “But how do I know you’re being truthful in any of this?”

The man stared at him for a second, one eyebrow cocked. “I came here voluntarily, for my own reasons, to the homeworld of one of the species that was responsible for the destruction of my homeworld and the deaths of most of my people. What reason would I have to lie when anything here could just decide to kill me.” He raised both eyebrows, moving his hands back down to rest on his hips.

“Fair enough,” Jol huffed. It really would be the equivalent of him going to talk to a Hecathian right outside of the Academy borders for a parallel universe where he would give them information about his organization. It would be a death wish to lie, especially with a beast that could decide to just kill him for entertainment.

“As for Allenesaia,”  continued. “She’s in Rochester, they’re planning on sending in a retrieval team very soon to bring her and the others back to the Academy.” He had a strange look in his eye at that idea, though Jol couldn’t fathom why. “If you’re planning on taking her, you may want to do it sooner rather than later. One guardian, who isn’t even that old or experienced, is easier to take on than whatever will happen after they take her.”

The way he said that made Jol wonder, once again, who this girl was to pique such attention. What could one Hecathian really be worth?

“Now,” the man straightened his posture, standing even taller than before. “I’ve given you what I promised, now I want to see Rinoas.”

“Very well.”

____________________________

Jacob sat still as the dim light of the sunrise had just begun to appear outside his window beside him, indifferent to the fact that he had sat there, ruminating in his thoughts, instead of sleeping. He was surrounded by a familiar, yet uncomfortable room. The light green walls usually tuned out now gave him an almost nauseating reaction. He sat in the center of the large bed, facing the dresser that was pressed up against the opposite wall, his reflection meeting his gaze. It was the first time he had been able to look himself in the eyes since he had left home.

His eyes were sunken with exhaustion, his skin pale and sickly. He had barely slept since hearing the news, the grief and mental images haunting him until he passed out, forcing him to sleep.

He was filled with more fury than sadness, more than he had felt in a long time. He knew that his mom was gone, he didn’t need the confirmation that so many kept telling him they didn’t have. Like his mom would have left anyone without a word when she wouldn’t even go to work without saying goodbye to everyone in the house, whether they were family or not.

No. He knew exactly what happened, and for the first time since he had come to Rochester, he wanted to go home. As much as he dreaded facing everything that came with going back, he needed to get answers. He knew his days were limited here anyway, especially with his call last week.

He closed his stinging eyes, leaning his chin against his propped-up knee. His whole body ached, screaming in protest at his decision to move. He could feel his body’s need to sleep, but he knew he needed to be at school. In this instance, he wished he could be like his father, being able to sleep amid any dire situation, no matter the context. That was as far as wanting to be like his father went.

He cautiously stretched his limbs, sucking in a breath at the clenching pain in his calves. Through his door, he could faintly hear the TV playing in the dining room, knowing it was Joseph fulfilling his daily habit of watching the news. Charlotte wouldn’t be up for another hour before they would both head to work while he was already halfway through his first class of the day.

He wished he could just curl into a ball and never move again, while at the same time wanting to take a knife and throw it at the wall. His sleep deprivation and days of internalizing his anger were draining him. There was only one other time he had felt like this before, and that was a time he wanted to forget more than anything else in his life. The rage, the guilt, and the grief overwhelmed his senses. He wanted to get as far away from it as he could, but this time, there was no scenario where that was possible.

Going back to school had been like being on autopilot, the classes, and hallways a blur as his thoughts simultaneously shut down and took over at once. His classmates had somehow heard about what had happened, most likely for sensitivity reasons, but it was annoying. He didn’t like talking to most of them, the majority made judgments about him for ignoring them, and didn’t pay any attention to him until they now had a reason to pity him. The way they treated him like he was made of glass, or those whom he knew were judging him for his masculinity just stared at him while he couldn’t care less about how he came across, he just wanted them to go back to ignoring his existence. It made everything so much easier.

His friends had been okay, there was a difference in how they talked to him, but he knew they actually cared instead of that fake sympathy. Rachel had no idea how to talk to him, so she just acted normally, which he appreciated. Ben was providing the silent support that he had always done, just more engaged than before. Anna was awkward, but he knew it was because of her naivete and presence in the office.

Asher was a different story, his interactions distant and uncharacteristic. He was among those giving those judgmental glances, his voice harsher when speaking to him. He had clocked Asher as someone who didn’t give such harsh judgments, someone who had pulled him aside to ask him if he was okay on multiple occasions just because he was being quieter. It made him wonder what was going on in his life, but he wasn’t going to ask.

He couldn’t remember if there was something due today, but he didn’t care either. He had only enjoyed school since it had provided him the means of finding a distraction and allowed him to talk to people that made him feel normal for once. Now, it did neither of those things, making it obsolete in his daily activities.

Jacob sighed, swinging his legs off the side of the bed, and rubbing his right eye absently. The sky was lightening to a hazy gold outside, the sounds of traffic picking up on the nearby highway. His being a night owl, slow to wake up in the morning, wasn’t helping in this situation. His sister could easily wake up at four or five in the morning and immediately start the day; it wasn’t fair.

He pushed himself to his feet, feeling his weight pressing down on his still half-asleep legs. He trudged his way over to the dresser, pulling open one of the drawers to reveal the black tee shirt he wanted to wear. He traded it for the plain white shirt he usually wore to bed, pulling his favorite black jacket overtop. He knew it was too hot now for long sleeves, but he really didn’t care much, it was cooler in the school anyway.

He shoved off the light gray sweatpants in exchange for his roughed-up blue jeans; there were no holes yet, but he was pushing his luck. His eyes fell on the golden rod on the top of the dresser, a gift he didn’t deserve. He lifted it in his hand anyway, the solid metal heavy in his hand. He tightened his grip on it, fighting the temptation to leave it behind.

He closed his eyes for a moment before shoving it in his pocket, not pausing to debate further, he grabbed socks that he wasn’t sure matched or not and rolled them onto his feet.

He left his room, heading straight for the door. He had no desire to eat anything. The last time he had tried, he barely ate any before he had begun to feel nauseous. He shoved his feet into his combat boots, kneeling to tie them tight until his feet felt like they were being suffocated by a boa.

He reached for his bag, not making a sound as he went toward the door. He wasn’t trying to avoid Jisuph, but he didn’t want to talk to him either. He had had enough of the older man checking in on if he was okay, the answer hadn’t changed: he wasn’t.

He closed the front door behind him, knowing that Jisuph heard it, but would just leave him to make his way to school in peace now that he was out of the house. If Jelare was awake, she would have dragged him back in to stuff something in his face for breakfast.

He took a deep breath, turning to follow the street toward the school. He was forever grateful that during his time in Rochester, he had remained close enough to everything that he could easily walk about anywhere.

As he passed each house, he wondered how many days he had left of making this path. He had started this journey six months prior and had felt free and normal for the first time in his life. Now the clock was ticking louder each day, reminding him that he was going home. He would see his friends, his sisters, and his father, but not his mom. The only person who had consistently shown him love and listened to what he had to say was gone. His mom had arranged the opportunity for him to leave home and experience something different at a time he couldn’t bear to be in the same place he always had been.

He wasn’t sure if home would be home with only her memory present.

____________________________

Anna’s gaze flicked up from her lunch, today being a bag of crisps with ground beef dumped haphazardly inside, to look at Jacob across the table. He had just sat there, staring at his food without touching it since he had sat down over ten minutes ago. It was beginning to become unnerving, him barely moving as his golden eyes were locked on the abomination of a meal that had been served to them that day.

She could see how tense his muscles were, even with the table cutting off most of his body. His eyebrows were furrowed in deep thought, his mouth curved in a fed-up frown. One could mistake it as him being offended by the food, but she knew better.

The entire table was strangely silent, the banter between any of them absent while they picked at their food. Even Rachel was quiet, her dark eyes darting from person to person as she bit into the sandwich she had managed to pick up by making it to the lunchroom early enough. Asher was sitting further away from them than he had before, shooting borderline harsh glances toward Jacob.

Anna drummed her fingers on her thigh, her foot itching to begin tapping on the tile under her shoes. She took her plastic fork, scooping some of the crisps and beef into her mouth, only to be assaulted by the amount of salt that was in that small amount of food. She chewed and swallowed it quickly, taking a large gulp from her water bottle to wash the flavour away; it only worked halfway.

A heavy breath directed her gaze back to Jacob, he had moved to grip the edge of the table, his arms tense. This wasn’t what caught her attention, however. His normally rich golden eyes which resembled a light brown on occasion, now sparked with a familiar-looking light.

Her eyes went wide, her breath leaving her as she stared at the boy. It was identical to the light she had seen in her own eyes that night in her uncle’s loo.

His intense gaze shot up to meet hers, causing her to blink in reaction to the direct light. In an instant, Jacob pushed himself up from the bench, swinging his legs over and immediately making his way out the doors on the far side of the cafeteria.

Anna just sat there for a moment before her muscles jumped into action. She followed his actions, ignoring the confused exclamation from Rachel behind her. She caught the door as it was closing, carelessly shoving it to hit the hinge. Her pulse rang in her ears, her thoughts fixated on the answer that was just out of sight.

Ahead of her, she could see him slow by the lone tree, just to the side of the small blacktop. He stood tense, looking over to the road across the field where she could see the normal movement of traffic and people getting out of cars. She continued toward him, her nerves spiking as she approached his now-frozen form.

Even as she moved into position beside him, her eyes burning into him, he just stood there, his eyes distant, looking straight ahead with an emotion that rivaled dread.

Anna could vaguely hear the tell-tale sounds of three sets of footsteps approaching, no doubt Rachel, Ben, and Asher. She followed Jacob’s gaze, finding a plain tan minivan at the end, with four people unloading the trunk. She looked back at him, confused at what he found so horrifying about such a sight. Behind her, she could hear Asher make some sort of coughing sound.

Jacob’s eyes were almost forcibly dragged away from the road, turning to meet her stare with his now dimly lit eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. She could hear that now familiar voice in her mind, though this time there were no distinguishable words, rather just a mess of a thousand statements all placed on top of one another. He took a step forward, toward the field of open grass, his eyes moving back to focus on the group now beginning to move toward the school.

In a blur of motion, Jacob was suddenly knocked forward, the boy seamlessly rolling free of the disruption before spinning back to face his assaulter. Anna stumbled back as she watched Asher loom over where Jacob had stood, his expression of seething rage out of place on the normally jovial boy.

Her legs had a mind of their own as she slowly began to back away, her eyes watching Jacob’s bright, narrowed eyes as he crouched in a clear defensive position. She was just barely aware of the other students around them directing their attention to what was going on.

“You really are pathetic,” Asher’s voice came out more of a growl than speaking. “A poor little boy, sniveling while pretending to care about anyone besides yourself.” He lunged forward, kicking out toward Jacob’s centre in a clearly practiced manner.

Jacob dodged, rolling to the side in an equally smooth action. His face was blank in focus, his body moving seamlessly out of a crouch to lunge at his attacker, grabbing Asher’s upper body and flipping him over to slam the other boy into the ground with an arm pressed over his chest. “You don’t want to do this,” he warned through his gritted teeth.

“I think I do,” he spat out with a level of animosity Anna couldn’t understand. She could have blinked and missed how Asher kicked Jacob’s legs from under him, turning the tables and grabbing him by the throat with a snarl.

By now, the fight was turning the heads of nearby students, and a teacher on the far side of the blacktop beginning to head over to the action. Though they were out of view from the cafeteria windows, some people had begun to leave the building to see what was happening outside. Jacob and Asher, too focused on each other, didn’t acknowledge the building’s attention.

Jacob lifted his head against the pressure, bashing his skull against Asher’s face; the latter reeling back with a hand against his now bleeding nose. He rubbed a hand against his neck, coughing once with a glare that could have drawn blood on its own. He pushed himself up to his feet, standing tall over Asher on the ground.

Jacob’s gold eyes were alight with darkness and danger that made her want to turn and run. He looked almost feral while he pushed his hair away from his face, his breath heavier than usual. “Yield,” he growled.

“Why would I do that?” Asher grinned, rising to a more upright position before springing back up to his feet. “You are a coward,” he hissed, eyes flashing.

Jacob narrowed his eyes further, one hand itching to his side as they stared each other down. “And you are not who you present yourself to be,” he muttered out, much to Anna’s confusion.

Asher grinned, though it wasn’t the toothy smile she had seen him do before. It sent a chill down her spine, his eyes full of hatred and his grin speaking threats that she couldn’t fully understand. It was then that his form lit a pale green haze, growing bigger and transforming to grow elongated and lizard-like with long legs that’s claws dug deep into the earth. His skin darkened, shifting from smooth pale beige to haunting yellow-green scales. Then his head began to rearrange itself, his neck stretching while its skull appeared to split into thirds, the sides of his head peeling off to copy the reptilian head in the centre.

Anna felt her stomach stir in a mixture of horror and disgust at the scene in front of her. On the other side of the creature, she could see Rachel and Ben frozen in twin stances of disbelief. Meanwhile, Jacob was unfazed, his hand buried in his pocket as he stared down the beast.

“You know,” Jacob’s eyes sparked with what could only be described as delighted rage. “I’ve really been waiting for this.” He removed his hand from his pocket, a small golden rod gripped in his hand. If she blinked, she would have missed how the small bit of gold in his hand expanded. The tip sharpened, shooting out to create a blade as long as her arm. The hilt blackened around the large red gem at the centre, curving back around his hand to arc in a way reminiscent of a crescent moon, similar black markings trailing up the blade to the very tip.

Around them, the students that had gathered to watch the fight now ran away, some screaming, while others ran in panicked silence. Even the teacher, who had been approaching with a hard look on his face, was rooted in fear. Anna could feel her own terror building, but she couldn’t bring herself to run. Rachel and Ben stood together on the other side of the action, Rachel gripping Ben’s arm with wide eyes as they too, stood frozen.

The monster recoiled, a loud hiss erupting through the schoolyard. Its six slanted green eyes regarded its opponent, the head on the right opening its mouth to reveal the many rows of ridged, jagged teeth. It lunged at Jacob with its left head, teeth snapping while he whirled to the side, cutting a stripe in the side of its elongated neck with his blade.

A high-pitched scream rang out of all of its heads, the middle immediately dipping under the left to strike at Jacob. Unprepared, Jacob attempted to block the attack but was still knocked back, landing beside Anna. His gaze went to hers after a split second, widening once recognition set in. “Get out of here!” He snapped, his tone harsh, but holding panic as well.

She barely managed a nod, swallowing and edging to her left while Jacob pushed himself up once again, spinning his blade in his hand in preparation for the next attack. Her brain was screaming at her legs to move, yet they didn’t, watching in stunned horror as the beast swung at Jacob with its front claws this time, his blade catching them before they struck. An ugly scraping noise grated her teeth when he pulled it free, the beast whipping its tail in frustration.

It turned as Jacob dove to the side, managing to slice through its defences again. The creature roared in pain, ringing out across the schoolyard, and echoing off the side of the building. Anna’s breath hitched in panic as the large tail lashed out, its approach towards her fast and unavoidable.

It slammed into her shoulder, the force knocking her to the ground with a yelp of pained surprise. Her head bounced off the ground on impact, her breath escaping her as she tried to reorient herself.

Another roar ripped through the air, Anna blinking up blurrily to see what was happening. There, lodged in its right head, a large silver arrow glinted in the midday sun.

She stared in uncomprehending confusion for a moment, before another whiz of an arrow buzzed through the air, this one hitting right beside the other, prompting another scream from the creature. She followed the invisible line the arrow had made, landing on four approaching figures that she vaguely recognised as having been across the field before the fighting had started.

In the back of the group was a blond boy, lowering a large silver bow that was almost the same height as him. He was in all black, so dark it appeared to swallow the light from around him, even his hands being covered in gloves that only exposed his fingers.

Ahead of him, his companions continued to approach, wearing the same black clothing that appeared to swallow the light around them. Her eyes were drawn to the tall albino girl in the front of the group, obviously close to six feet tall, with a sword in her hands that spanned most of that height. The girl’s colourless eyes glinted with the same chilling rage as Jacob’s, though accompanied by a chilling smirk upon her lips, sharp black markings stood out on her face, while something glinted in the sun atop her snow-white hair. Without hesitation, she threw herself at the beast, slamming the tip of her blade straight down into the top of its clawed foot.

The other two had skidded to a stop, exchanging words just outside of the perceived danger zone. Both had dark skin, but the similarities stopped there. The girl was facing away from her, but her short and small frame screamed child; making the sharpened spear strapped across her back seem even more out of place. Her rich brown hair was pulled back in a wavy ponytail, yet still fell to her lower back, the shade only slightly darker than her tawny skin. She was dwarfed by her companion, having to tilt her head back to look him in the face.

He was the oldest in the group, most likely already graduated from high school. He was over six feet tall, with angular features that didn’t belong to any single heritage. His angular, dark eyes darted about, almost calm even as Jacob and the albino girl were waging war against the large creature, cutting streaks down the side of the monster that continued to snap at them with its two good heads.

Meanwhile, the blond boy had slung his bow over his shoulder and had begun moving toward the lone tree, where Rachel and Ben had moved. While she watched him go, she was vaguely aware of the tall boy taking off in the direction of the cafeteria doors. The blond grabbed each of them by the arm, his mouth moving in words she was too far away to hear. Neither Rachel nor Ben could be described as particularly strong, but the same could not be said for Rachel’s attitude as his touch sent her elbow into his gut and her knee to be shoved into the one place no one wanted a knee to go.

The boy’s pained yelp was a mouse squeak under another roar from the beast, the albino girl perched on its back with her sword buried halfway into its rough skin. Jacob had slid under its body, slicing at its legs and vulnerable underside. He regained his balance on the other side of the creature, only to have its clawed foot slam into him from behind, sending him flying, his sword falling to the ground. The albino girl called something out, pushing down harder on the blade in retaliation.

Anna’s eyes bounced between the multiple events happening around her, her mind trying to comprehend as the world she had known turned inside out before her. She didn’t acknowledge the short girl, who had moved to her side, just as the blond, who was getting back to his feet, had gone to Rachel and Ben.

“Come on,” Her features still held the innocence of a child, her vivid green gaze holding the same innocence. She was most likely a couple of years younger than her, maybe even more. It was almost calming in the pandemonium around them. “We need to go.”

Anna’s focus was drawn back to the monster as a click and an inhuman scream rang out. The albino girl had a satisfied look on her face as she pulled the sword out of the beast’s back, standing as she did so. Anna’s mouth opened in horror and disgust as the flesh around where the blade had gone in began to fold back and rip as curved spikes that Anna definitely didn’t remember being there were revealed with a coat of blood and bits of flesh hanging from them.

It was, without a doubt, the most terrible thing she had witnessed in her life up to this point. The creature swayed, the girl somehow keeping her balance. Anna’s ears echoed with the anguished noises that it made as it struggled to stay on its feet, her body beginning to shake as her legs threatened to give out from under her.

A yellow glow flashed out across the schoolyard then, all signs that a monster had been before them disappearing in an instant as the albino girl plummeted to the ground with her now clean sword still in hand.

Everyone was still then, the only sound being the police sirens that rang out over the city. Jacob hadn’t moved from where he had landed down the hill, but she somehow knew that he was still alive. The tall boy had returned at some point, his breaths coming fast as he scanned the aftermath of what had occurred, looking just as confused as the rest of them.

“We need to go now,” the tall boy managed. “Elaine, grab Jacob. Take them to the van,” he gestured around. “I wasn’t able to get the other, security is too tight. We’ll have to come back for him.”

The three strangers gave their acknowledgments, beginning to do as they were told. Anna shivered as she felt eyes on her again, almost like something was prodding at the edges of her consciousness. She looked around, trying to identify what was causing the feeling. The short girl grabbed her arm, trying to pull her in the direction of the others. Her line of sight lifted to the roof of the school three stories up, a dark figure visible against a grouping of clouds that was passing over. She hissed, ducking her face as a spike of pain drove into her head, but once she looked up again after the pain passed, the shadow was gone.

Behind her, she could hear people speaking, but the words blended while her eyes darted to look for what she had seen. Her eyebrows furrowed, her muscles tense. She reached out with her mind, the way she had in the loo. She winced again, though this time it was from the sheer amount of noise that entered her mind.

Both her hands pressed against her temples, she knew her eyes were glowing gold, though concealed as she closed her eyes. She tried to focus on each individual voice at a time, but it was too much. They shifted constantly, words blending, pictures of faces that were vaguely familiar flashing behind her eyelids, darkened classrooms with students hidden under their desks, a toilet stall with its single occupant breathing short and fast as he stood atop the toilet seat to hide his feet from an unseen threat. She could physically feel so many sensations. Hands on her shoulders, the fabric of a skirt she wasn’t wearing fluttering against her thighs, the cramping leg muscles from crouching in a confined position, and the ache of a freshly bruised leg. Emotions cycled through her, anger, fear, worry, confusion, acceptance, bloodlust, frustration, determination, shock… 

It was consuming her, surrounding her as she cowered in a crouch on the grass. She couldn’t tell if she was screaming or if it was someone else doing so, the sound piercing through the others, the tell-tale burn in her throat. It was impossible to distinguish what was real, even when her heart leapt in her chest at the sensation of being lifted off the ground.

She opened her eyes, revealing the ground five or six metres down. It took her a moment to comprehend the large claws wrapped around her torso, turning her gaze up to the large four-legged beast lifting her into the air. Rather than the feathers one would expect, this creature’s legs and curled paws were coated in fine, silky brown fur. Its body hunched over her, the head a bizarre mix between a bat and one of a small wildcat. The wings stretched out of its back, each wing three times the width of the creature itself, tan skin stretched out, its greenish veins visible in its naked state.

She screamed once her brain had caught up with what was happening, thrashing in the creature’s grip as they continued to rise. An arrow whizzed by, sending her panic even higher. She could feel something building inside her, though it barely registered as they crossed the school field.

She kicked and punched at its legs, stopping only when she saw the haze of a glow that was beginning to become familiar. She closed her eyes, reaching inward to that power she knew she had in her. At this moment, it didn’t matter that she didn’t know what it was, or why she had it. It didn’t matter that she had no idea how they worked or how to even use or control them.

She felt heat across her body, a deafening bang as her body dropped. Even with her eyes closed tight she could see the bright light that was visible even in daylight. She felt herself falling, her body going limp as it plummeted toward the grass below. She didn’t open her eyes, nor did she make a sound until she hit the ground.

Next Chapter

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[bisluthq]

I forgot to copy the post link, but this is a reply to two posts I guess, the one who said their dad drinks too much and the one from the teacher who doesn’t drink.

My dad is an alcoholic and has cut back heaps for him, but he could easily drink 35 standard drinks before he started to be “drunk” because his tolerance is so high. He’s down to about 14-22 standard drinks a day.

I have never had more than a few sips of a drink because, yk, look what I grew up with lol. He was still high functioning and going to work on time but having 20+ standard drinks a night in a 4 hour period. I never saw him throw up in my life and only saw him fall down on really hot days when he had been drinking but was dehydrated (cause he never drinks water). This isn’t to make any assumptions about anyone else, but my mum is slurring words after 3 drinks and falls asleep/ passes out after 6. My dad was always “normal” like other dads on work nights despite his TWENTY DRINKS. It looks different for everyone you know.

People ALWAYS asked me why I wasn’t drinking and why I was ordering a virgin drink and double checking with the wait staff that it was an alcohol free drink. Even at house parties when I was 18, my friends’ PARENTS would ask why I wasn’t drinking and say how I’d still be fine to drive after just 1 or 2 drinks 💀 a lot of those friends got booked for drink driving, luckily no one was ever injured.

Then I had one job where we’d do lunches with clients and co-workers, I had to be charming, intelligent and win them over so naturally you’d think I wouldn’t drink - my boss asked me why I wasn’t drinking at one of these lunches and encouraged me to, so I ordered a virgin cocktail but asked them to not say it was alcohol free lol. But you’d think my boss would want me sober!

. There’s so much expectation everywhere to always be drinking, even brunch and day drinking to just watch Netflix. It’s not healthy.

But you know what shocks me more though (going back to last weeks talk lol)? NO ONE wants to order dessert because they’re diet conscious (fair enough!) but they’ve just had half a bottle of wine and a cocktail (which makes no sense) lol. Fuck that Long Island ice tea and have the pastry! It’s so much better lmao

EXACTLY!!! I could’ve written a lot of what you’ve written minus the fact that from my student years to last year tbh I was drinking a lot. I’ve realized it’s not great for my mental health or my physical well-being and impacts a lot of my relationships tbh in a negative way so I’ve cut back a HUGE amount. What’s funny is like I said that people, even some people who previously expressed concern for how much I’m drinking, are still baffled that I don’t want to drink. I ordered a tomato juice at brunch recently because I… like tomato juice… and the friend I was with was like “why don’t you just get a Bloody Mary?” and I was like “because I… don’t want vodka? I want tomato juice?” and she was like “yea but you can have one cocktail surely even with your whole cutting back thing” and I was like “I absolutely can, but I don’t want to” 🤷🏻‍♀️ I did want an Aperol Spritz the one time, so I had it. But I didn’t want vodka for breakfast tbh and that was, to my friend, odd. Another friend who literally EXPRESSED CONCERN about my drinking a few months ago invited me round for drinks recently and I was like “can we rather go for a walk?” and she didn’t want to lol. It’s just this pervasive thing everywhere yk and it really has started to bug me. Like I want to do other things lol except sit around drinking tbh and I don’t want to be fucked up every time I go out. It’s also funny you mention the pastries thing because as I’ve said I try to follow IE principles and I haven’t been big into sweet things but since I cut back on the booze I’m super into cookies lmao. I keep fucking buying cookies and just munching them 😂 Cookies are so good y’all, way better than vodka 😂🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

[ivogfan]

New Q&A with Ivo in The Times!

Ivo Graham: ‘My gig in Falkirk was top-tier awkward’

The comedian talks his most memorable Scottish performance, his long-enduring love for Gary Neville and why a recent trip to the dentist left him flabberglasted. [NON-PAYWALL VERSION]

When did you first come to Scotland?

We came up most years as children to stay with cousins just outside Stirling — shout out to the Gargunnock Grahams — but we also came as a family to the Edinburgh Fringe in 1999. I wouldn’t be the self-promoter I am if I didn’t mention that my report of the trip was given a commendation by my headmaster.

What has been your most memorable Scottish gig?

Falkirk, 2019, days after a pretty top-tier break-up, in front of 13 people, five of them friends of my parents. Lovely as it was of my mum and dad to email all their extensive contacts in the Falkirk area, it would almost have been less awkward if it was eight people, none of them family friends.

What’s your favourite place in Scotland?

Ullapool — its harbour is one of the most serene bodies of water I have ever had the good fortune to gaze upon. My brother and I were there in 2019, him sent by my parents to cheer me up post-Falkirk.

What’s been your most embarrassing moment?

I feel very certain there are going to be a few contenders this month, but to raid the recent archives, I’d have to say being caught by two Taskmaster fans eating a KFC mini fillet burger in the toilets of Corley services (southbound).

Tell us a secret.

In 2016 I won a Toblerone from my friend Matt because I correctly bet what song Foals would open their set with at Wembley Arena. However, despite my protestations to the contrary, I HAD checked their previous setlists online ahead of the gig. I just really wanted the Toblerone. I’m not proud of who I am.

What’s your favourite journey?

I spent much of the last hour of the London-Edinburgh train yesterday trying to capture the sublime power of the Northumberland coastline in a tweet (rather than just looking at it) and I am not ashamed to go into bat for it again here.

What’s your earliest memory?

Obviously I have plenty of blurrier stuff from the mid-Nineties but I very vividly remember going for lunch in summer 1998 (seven years old) with a boy called Julian in a nearby village. We were starting at the same boarding school in September so our mums thought it would be nice if we had a friend. Julian remains one of my best friends to this day, and I lived with him and his own young family during two of the three lockdowns, so needless to say: thanks, socially manipulative mums. Anyway, my vivid memory is my brother (then three) relieving himself fantastically unapologetically in the middle of Julian’s garden, and me worrying that in some way this would damage my new arranged friendship with Julian. In fact, it’s become something we both reminisce about regularly, so needless to say: thanks, casually urinating brother.

What’s the best meal you’ve had in Scotland?

So so many options but the haddock wrap at the Seafood Shack in Ullapool. Or the 20-minute curry I had at Solti with Stuart Laws last night, a lamb madras against the clock for a video that I hope to use at the start of my show. The food was delicious, although admittedly I was not exactly pausing to give it much thought. I am now having an Africa wrap with my producer at the Nile Valley Café. I have had many of these wraps at this table over the years, usually at the invitation of Kieran Hodgson, whose shows I have loved since even before they became the unstoppable forces/immoveable objects of the Edinburgh Comedy Awards, and who expresses his love of this festival and its wraps far more poetically than I can in this time frame.

Who was your childhood hero?

I’m really sorry to say that beyond a sincere but uninteresting reverence for my parents/a couple of my more charismatic teachers, I didn’t emotionally project onto anyone other than footballers until I was at least a teenager. In the late 1990s, as a Manchester United glory hunter yet to pivot to my local team (Swindon Town FC), I’m afraid I really did spend a lot of time wanting to be Gary Neville: a dignified older brother, as I still dream of being, and leader of men, as I don’t think is really likely at this juncture, who had such a lovely on and off-pitch relationship with the more obvious hero figure of David Beckham.

Tell us one lesson life has taught you.

I’m still some way off any Big Wisdom, sadly, so please enjoy instead a trio of recent resolutions: always print off tickets if you have the opportunity to (absolute QR code-based panic attack at a War on Drugs gig recently); always have pens and paper with you (drawing with my daughter is one of the most pleasurable and also strategically useful activities in my life at the moment); and if you have the opportunity and chiropractic derring-do to put someone on your shoulders at a festival (aka the best thing ever), do make sure to do a little spin so they can take in every angle of this absolutely sublime life moment. It’s all about these moments!

What song would you have played at your funeral?

Oh for goodness’ sake. And I’m meant to just have this ready to go, am I? What I would say is that (clang!) my theatre show, Carousel, has about three pieces of music in it that could be used as the answer to this question, although they are now all probably too associated with panicking about scripts and props to be played anywhere else. Not that I’ll be there to listen and complain, of course. A big chunk of the show is about a very dearly beloved friend I lost in 2022, and his family and I were all pretty floored by Bruce Springsteen’s I’ll See You In My Dreams at Wembley recently, so although I’m not pinching that for my own service, I’d certainly recommend it to anyone trying to take solace, as we are, in reunions around the river bend, for death is not the end. What an unbelievably heavy thing to answer under timed conditions!

What’s the most outrageously untrue thing that’s ever been said about you?

I saw a note recently from my old dentist to my new dentist saying that I was a “very chilled-out guy” and I was baffled and ecstatic at how wrong he’d got me.

What’s Grand Designs all about?

It’s about the desperate gulf between my expectations and reality, as compared (only briefly in the show, to be frank) to some of the fantastically ambitious/deluded people who appear on the TV show Grand Designs. I am not trying to build a clifftop mansion with a built-in lighthouse. That is out of my budget. But I am trying to do three different shows at the Edinburgh Fringe and that is, by a lot of people’s measurements, too many.

Who was your first celebrity crush?

Holly Valance undeniably quit Ramsay Street with more of a bang than most, and though I would like to distance myself from her recent political lurches, you’re welcome to write “that only makes her MORE attractive to me!” if you think that’s more pleasingly on brand.

What three words sum you up?

Dishevelled, distracted, and late.

Ivo Graham will perform Grand Designs until Aug 25 at Pleasance Courtyard; Carousel until Aug 25 at Assembly George Square (The Box); Comedians’ DJ Battles on Aug 9 & 16 at Assembly George Square Studios (Underground) and Aug 24 at La Belle Angele, edfringe.com

[yellowsunflowerheart]

Prompt idea:

IronStrange no!powers AU wherein Stephen goes into education after his accident, adopts America, and realizes that he has a passion for working with kids, so he takes a job teaching biology and chemistry at a private academy for gifted children in K-12 in upstate New York. It isn't long before he becomes the PTA liason for the school, and immediately he's proven to be great at his job.

Meanwhile, Tony Stark has been divorced for a few years now, but his family has only grown with the adoption of Peter and Harley. After discovering that the boys have been struggling with a bullying problem, Tony decides to move all three of his kids to this academy Pepper and May had told him about, and buys a house in the area. All three of his kids thrive there, and Peter and Harley won't shut up about their new science teacher, so when they come home with a flyer from him asking parents to volunteer for the annual autumn carnival, Tony finds himself attending a PTA info meeting and immediately becomes smitten with the alluring Doctor Strange. Pretty soon, Tony finds himself volunteering for every PTA event just to spend a little more time with Stephen, completely oblivious to the fact that his growing crush isn't unrequited. Bonus points if America is fast friends with Peter and Harley, and Morgan adores Stephen too. Additional bonus points if Stephen is just as oblivious as Tony- gotta love that pining, lol.

Sorry if that's too much detail for a prompt, I just love your style so much and I think you could really do something like this justice

Can you hear me singing?! I really love this prompt, thank you so much for sending it!!

It’s gonna take me a while unfortunately, as I’m currently working full time and writing some other fics, so I wrote this whole thing for the meantime (I’m thinking the actual fic is going to have to be chaptered to get the full effect, I’m getting a million ideas already for this one).

~

This prompt kind of ties in with this idea I’ve been wanting to write about Stephen actually delivering America, and that’s how they meet and he actually meets and adopts her through the connection there.

The idea has been sitting in my list for a while, because I’ve never had anything to follow up with, but I think it would be cool to add in this fic (because I love Doctor Dad and backstories, I’m sorry).

Maybe America’s Mum’s have an accident on the way to the hospital, and Stephen has to emergency deliver her because he’s the only Doctor available at the time.

Maybe her Mum’s both passed away then, and she’s an orphan baby now

Or maybe they’re all okay, but another accident years down the track claims their lives, and Stephen finds out she’s an orphan

Or he meets her again in the hospital because she goes looking for the doctor who delivered her while she’s staying there recovering herself from the accident. Even better if this is in the same timeline as Stephen’s accident, and they’re both patients and they build a connection during the long hours of having no where else to go.

He wasn’t really looking to be a Dad, but something deep inside of him is really drawing him to her. He can’t stand to let her fade into the unknown, so he puts his hand up for carer, and later he makes the adoption official.

Let’s headcanon she’s really smart, but because of her dislexia, it’s hard for her to put her thoughts on paper. So Stephen tutors her and they have these brainstorming nights where they just talk science all night long, and he realises he likes this, teaching kids, they’re so optimistic and artistic and anything is possible to them.

He lost that optimism spark a long time ago, but she’s reigniting it again.

So he starts looking for teaching jobs, thinks of maybe starting his own after school club or something, when an old college professor of his, who finished out his last working years at a gifted school, retires and actually recommends Stephen. He’s heard about Stephen’s accident and thinks this’ll be good for him.

It has to be a sign, that the job practically found Stephen, and it’s so close to home they could walk, and America gets a free education and all the resources she wants- whatever career she decides to pursue.

So he accepts the job. Has five crisis’, almost a breakdown before he starts, but America drags him in the school gates their first morning. And he’s worried, that he’ll hate these kids, or they’ll hate him, and they’ll be annoying and disinterested, disrespectful, or ask a million questions about his hands.

But they hit him rapid fire with questions from the very first bell, and when they realise Stephen really knows his stuff, they’re actually super excited to be in his class.

This won’t be a year of boring lectures from a textbook, Stephen is interesting, and not afraid of gore or messiness. His classes are interesting and real, and it hits Stephen one day, that these kids are wanting to grow up and be doctors and research scientists because of him.

He may not be the king of an operating theatre anymore, but being the king of a classroom of young minds, where he’s making hundreds of other masters of their craft is… wow, this is so much more important than anything else he’s ever been and he loves it.

Meanwhile, Tony has primary custody of his three kids. He’s stepped back a little from work and the limelight (leaving Pep to be CEO of Stark Industries) and he’s really just enjoying being a Dad. These kids are healing traumas he didn’t even knew he had. He still can’t believe he’s kind of good at it.

Pepper and May are still involved in the kids lives, they’ve all got their routines and their family dynamic works seamlessly. They’re both thriving in their careers, and Tony is equally happy for them.

He isn’t at all prepared for the day he’s phoned to the principals office, and Peter and Harley are both pouting and Harley has an actual black eye, and for a second, Tony questions his humanity, because he’s going to kill whoever did that to Harley.

He fusses over the boys until one of the school officials comes along and invites them into the office. Neither of the kids would tell him anything, they’ve never been so shut down with him before, practically sticking to one another silently and refusing to tell him anything.

It all makes sense when he’s told the boys have been the targets of bullying at the school. It literally shatters his heart, and he doesn’t understand why they never told him, until it’s revealed half of the awful things said to them are mockeries surrounding their relationship with Tony.

“I bet you don’t even know Tony Stark” “He’s just using you for good PR because you’re so pathetic” “He only adopted you to look good” “Tony must be ashamed that you’re his sons” “I hope Tony comes to his senses and drops you back on the doorstep you came from.”

Tony un-enrols them on the spot, shouts some choice words to the heads of the school who have allowed this to go on to the point where it became physical, and takes the boys home and cuddles them for two days straight, heartbreakingly icing Harley’s black eye.

Late at night, Pepper and May have heard all about it, while the boys are sleeping. Tony’s wanting names- the kids names, family names, Tony wants to take down anyone and everyone associated with whoever has been picking on his kids, but the women talk Tony out of becoming a bully himself, pushing him into devoting his energy to the kids and giving them a fresh start.

When Pepper is dropping Morgan back off at the end of the weekend, she and Tony discuss the situation, and Pepper tells him about a school for the extraordinarily gifted, like their three children.

She’s heard good things, and she’ll look into it for him. She’s not really happy with Morgan’s school either, and Tony agrees, and it might be easier if all three kids went to the same school.

A week later, Tony is ushering three nervous faces in the gates, holding all three hands. He’s keeping it together- business cold, hoping if he’s calm, it’ll calm the kids. He spends the day stress pacing and calling the school to check that there hasn’t been any incidents.

His said his goodbyes in the morning to three quiet, anxious children, and is bombarded at the gates that afternoon by three smiling, laughing, shouting kids, all talking over each other to tell him about their day.

Their hair is in shambles, they’re literally buzzing. Meanwhile Tony’s been on the verge of vomiting all day with anxiety.

A couple weeks go by, and the hype stays. Tony feels good about making the decision to enrol them there, so good that he’s happy to pack up their life and move closer to the school. Out of their apartment and into a home. It’s a little further away from Pep and May, but they’re happy with the move, too.

Every afternoon the kids brag for hours about school, and Tony hasn’t missed that Doctor Strange is the favourite teacher by far as the boys are concerned. They love his science lessons, love his teaching, his experiments, his guidance. Also, his homework is actually cool, even Tony can admit that, so he gets bonus points.

A few months go by, and Tony is actually hoping parent teacher meetings come up soon, because he so wants to meet this Doctor Strange, who is good as God to the boys. Tony’s even considered reaching out and making one, under a false pretence that he wants to check the boys are warming well to their new school.

So when the boys come home one day, a couple months later, with a flyer from the one Doctor Strange about the upcoming PTA meeting, Tony see’s it as the perfect opportunity to meet the man. They’re also seeking donations for the autumn carnival, and Tony is sure he can sort something out with Pep, so that he has an excuse to speak to the man one on one.

Peter and Harley are insisting he should go, he’s gonna love Doctor Strange, and honestly, Tony’s kind of got a weird little crush? on the man. Even though they’ve never met, the boys have talked so much about him Tony honestly feels like he knows him.

So, he puts on some nice dress pants and a button up and more casual jacket, and goes to his first ever PTA meeting.

He phones May in the car park, kind of freaking out, and she talks him into taking the last steps into the building.

Tony has loved being a Dad, and he’s done all this school stuff before, but suddenly, he’s really spooked at the idea of attending an actual PTA meeting. Suddenly he’s feeling totally inadequate being there.

He’s glued himself to the drinks table at the entrance, and Tony Stark has never, ever been shy, but he feels like he doesn’t really belong there.

Meanwhile, Doctor Strange has noticed a new face at the meeting, and makes his way over to welcome him. He wasn’t expecting Tony Stark, but he’s glad at least one of his students parents read the flyer and actually turned up.

They talk, and Stephen calms him down while Tony is very steadily growing heart eyes.

Stephen is so authoritative, and well spoken, and intelligent, and actually Peter and Harley don’t brag enough, this man is incredible. He’s so thorough and clear running the meeting, he’s organised and has such great ideas.

Tony’s afraid to stand up out of his seat afterwards, he’s fairly certain he might be more than a little turned on.

So he says his goodbyes and goes home to 1) research more about this Doctor Strange, and 2) find something good to donate/contribute to this carnival so he has an excuse to talk to the man again.

They meet casually here and there, talk politely, and Tony finds any and every excuse for them to bump into each other again as soon as possible. It might as well be Christmas the day Tony finds out Harley’s new best friend America is Stephen’s daughter!!!!

She’s got an infinite invitation to the Stark house, so long as her Dad drops her off and picks her up so Tony can see him.

Tony gets more and more involved in the PTA, just to be close to Stephen, and they get friendlier and friendlier, and Tony’s crush is bigger than Jupiter now, and all the kids are teasing him about it, but who could blame him?

Stephen is perfect, and such a good Dad, and god Tony just wants the man in his house for the rest of their lives.

Maybe they have a lot of almosts.

Getting stuck together at he top of a ferris wheel at the carnival, but they never quite kiss.

They go tea tasting together, and Tony could fucking spit it back in his mug, but he swallows every sample for Stephen.

They decorate the hall for prom, and chaperone and they almost kiss again under the lights like a teenage dream. But they don’t.

Tony’s so fucking desperate he might just steal a kiss.

Maybe on the school camping trip they go on, or at the competition where Harley and America win first prize for their invention. Maybe while they’re cooking for charity work, or when Tony invites Stephen to the tower and lets him poke around at their research.

In the end, it’s simple. It late at night, and goodbyes are too hard when they’re this tired.

Tony kisses Stephen, and later, when his head is clear, he can’t believe that Stephen actually kissed him back. He literally goes to bed smiling that night.

It’s Stephen who suggests their first date, and everything falls into place from there.

Eventually, America and Stephen pack up their apartment and move into the Stark’s house, and they do bonfires, and light marshmallows. Friday nights are for movie marathons, and Saturdays are usually spent brainstorming world changing devices and medicines.

They’re happy, and in love, and a family.

Tony and Stephen both adopt all children, and Stephen gets to know Pepper and May, and they all go together to the kids big functions, and share tissues and embarrass them all every time.

And even well past the older kids graduation, Tony is a familiar face around school.

The husband of everyone’s favourite Doctor Strange, always at his husbands side, practically a trophy-spouse, making sure everything is in order and his husband is happy and successful in his endeavours.

Everyone knows them, everyone loves them. They’re the it couple, even though they’re both in their fifties now.

They visit the kids at college all the time, and vacation most of the rest of their spare time.

They’re happy, and eventually they downsize to a small cottage and live a simple life together in one another’s company, far from everything that was difficult in their earlier lives.

They watch the kids take over Tony’s company and do great things, and they feel so incredibly lucky this is their lives. It’s been perfect.

[angryschnauzer]

The Darkest Night (Part 6 - Rugby Teacher Henry Series)

Summary; A few days before Christmas you and your husband Henry are due to attend a big family get together, unfortunately a rude relative continues to show their true colours and insults you, but Henry isn’t going to let this slide and proves to you that you are more important to him than anything. A continuation of my Rugby Teacher Henry series.

Fandom: Henry Cavill Pairing: Rugby Teacher Henry Cavill x Teacher Wife Reader

Wordcount: 2915

Warnings: Angst, NSFW, 18+, Smut, Talk of conception issues, Fertility Issues, Family Bullying, Fatphobia. Unprotected Sex. Happy Ending.

Henry Cavill Masterlist 

Part 1 Thigh Riding, Part 2 Jingle My Bells  Part 3 An Epic Quickie Part 4 The Boy Next Door,  Part 5  Three Fingers

I do not operate a tag list but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications you’ll get an alert every time i post something new, plus be able to find all my past works. Everything can also be found on my AO3

The Darkest Night

Henry pressed a kiss to your breast as he worked his fingers harder within you, his blue gaze making you feel even more naked than you actually were.

“Are you going to cum for me Darling?”

Biting your lip you let your eyes close and your head fall back to the pillow. If truth be told you couldn’t be farther from an orgasm. Your mind was elsewhere, you felt under pressure to find your release but the stress that was on your mind was a nasty little goblin taking away your pleasure. It took a few moments to realise Henry had pulled his fingers out, and the touch of the warm duvet covering your naked body had you opening your eyes;

“Hen, what are you…?”

Your big burly husband wrapped his arms around you as he sat against the headboard, pulling you close;

“You need to tell me what’s going on in that mind of yours. You’ve been distracted ever since your parents rang on Friday night”

Letting out a shaky breath you nodded;

“Grandma is coming to the family dinner tonight”

“Oh. Your Dad’s Mum?”

“Yeah”

“I see”

Henry knew that you didn’t get on with your paternal Grandmother. She was overbearing and opinionated. Played on her elderly age to say the nastiest things about people, but in fact she’d been nasty your entire life.

“Hen, I don't want to see her. Every single time I do she is always so horrible and says the most awful things. I had always wished I had a kind or fun Grandmother, but instead I got one that was a flat out bully to me. She wasn’t much kinder to my Mum, but for some reason Grandma hated that I was the eldest grandchild, and it wasn’t my cousin Brendan who was born 2 weeks later. She thought a male grandchild should be the eldest. I’ve managed to avoid her for almost 2 years thanks to the pandemic, but she has deemed it her right to come to tonight’s meal and I just know she’s going to say something…” 

You trailed off, your nose running and your eyes watering from holding back the tears, feeling Henry’s hand on your arm gently rubbing to try and comfort you before he quietly spoke;

“I will be at your side the entire night. Whatever she feels she has to say she’ll have to say in front of me, and i will not stand for any of her bullshit, ok?”

You let out a sob and nodded, smiling at your protective bear of a husband;

“Thank you”

-

This year had been even tougher than the last. Whereas the previous year had been a living hell due to the pandemic and the both of you being school teachers, trying to navigate work, life, and keeping yourselves safe, at the start of this year you’d decided to start to try for a baby. You weren’t getting any younger, and you knew Henry longed to be a father, so you’d started in earnest trying to conceive. By the middle of the year you’d gotten frustrated, but Henry had reassured you that you were both just stressed. You’d set out time to relax, to look after your body. Henry had designed meal plans that gave both of you the most nutrients you could possibly have to help encourage your bodies to be in the best possible health. But nothing had worked. Every month when you saw the red stain on the tissue you cried. After 9 months you’d both gotten tested; bloodwork, hormone levels, health checks. Henry had his sperm checked to ensure everything swam correctly and it had been noted that he had world class swimmers. Your heart had sank as for you to get your eggs tested it was a painful and invasive procedure, but the fact that Henry had been checked and was fine made it pretty obvious that it was your body that was the one that was the problem.

What also hadn’t helped was that what you’d told your Mum, and she’d told your Dad. Your Dad was somewhat clueless and had then in turn told his Mother about the situation you were in, and even in your birthday card from Grandma this year she’d made a comment about ‘trying harder to please your husband’. The card had been ripped to shreds and you’d glared at every piece you’d burnt to a crisp over the candle on the little patio table as you’d sat and made a significant dent in a bottle of white wine that night. There wasn’t a single part of you that would be sad the day she slipped off the mortal coil, but you kept that thought to yourself, not wanting to show Henry the bitter side to your mind.

As the day had gone on you and Henry had worked around the house, finishing wrapping the Christmas gifts that you were taking that night, had the groceries delivered and put them away. Your Mum had dropped off some daffodil bulbs to plant in the garden, telling you to make sure they were planted on the Winter Solstice (your Mum grew up in a household that followed pagan holidays) as in her words ‘seeds planted on the darkest day come out the brightest’. Henry had done his utmost to distract you and keep you happy which you had truly appreciated, but the evening still plagued your mind. As the sky started to darken by mid afternoon he took your hand and led you upstairs so you could both get ready for the family dinner.

-

The evening had gone as expected. Grandma had lorded around, taking the best seat in the living room as your cousins, aunts and uncles all chatted with her and her husband - she’d remarried after the death of your grandfather a couple of decades earlier - whereas your Mum and Dad had done their best to entertain everyone and ensure glasses were topped up, you and Henry had kept to the sidelines, and as promised Henry hadn’t left your side all night.

With dinner long over you felt Henry fidgeting beside you as you both rested your bums on the old radiator, your parents house full of drafts and cold spots so any warm spot was hogged on cold evenings;

“Are you ok?” you whispered

“I’m fine. Need to pee but don’t want to leave you alone with… you know…”

You smiled kindly;

“Hen, go pee. She’s busy, i’m out of the way. You don’t have to literally stay by my side for every second”

With a kiss to your cheek Henry trotted off down the hall, and you absentmindedly pulled your phone from the pocket in your jeans. With your attention elsewhere you didn’t realise people were shifting around, the suggestion of after dinner drinks, coffees and chocolates agreed on, that was until a familiar pair of house slippers came into your view and your heart sank;

“You’ve been quiet all evening”

Looking up you tried hard not to glare, but if you were honest with yourself, the woman still scared you in the same way she had when you were 8 years old;

“Just enjoying time with my husband and my family”

Grandma looked you up and down;

“Good to see you’ve finally got one on the way”

Your eyes went wide, following her gaze down to your stomach where it sat proud. Partly from the food you’d just eaten and partly from the pandemic pounds you’d unfortunately added on;

“I’m… I'm not…”

Grandma frowned with a look of disapprovement on her face;

“Well then… perhaps you could lose a few pounds then, that’ll be what is holding you back. Plus you’ll need to make sure you look good for that handsome husband of yours, leave it too long and he’ll find someone prettier that suits his needs elsewhere”

Initially stunned by her words, you didn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing what she had had upset you, instead turning in the opposite direction and heading to the kitchen. 

-

Henry emerged from the bathroom, heading along the hallway before he ran into your cousin;

“Hey Bren”

“Henry” Brendan shot out his arm, balancing his two year old in the other; “You need to go find your wife. Grandma incident”

Henry’s eyes went wide then immediately narrowed;

“Thanks for the heads up. Where is she?”

“Think the kitchen. But Hen, the old bat was really nasty. I was trying to corral this little stinker so I could change his nappy when I heard her; basically accusing your wife of being pregnant whilst pointing to her tummy. Then when your wife said she wasn’t Grandma went full bitch mode and said that she needed to lose weight otherwise you’d leave her. Real low blow.”

Henry pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath to try and quell the anger that was rising;

“Ok. Thanks. I’m gonna go see what I can do. Probably get her out of here to be honest, she’s already on edge with stress, this is gonna break her. If i don’t see you to say bye, have a good Christmas”

“Thanks, you too Hen. We’ll have to meet for a pint in the new year”

“Sounds good”

-

You stood at the sink, hacking away at the burnt mashed potato from the shepherd's pie dish with a butter knife that had been soaking in the sink since dinner had finished. Your cheeks were wet from tears that you’d silently shed, angry at yourself for letting that bitch get you so upset. The sound of footsteps and a quiet ‘hey’ had you tense then go limp as Henry wrapped his arms around you. Dropping the items into the bowl of water you turned and clung to him, sobbing into his chest and the warm knitted sweater he wore;

“I… she…” you tried to speak, but he soothed you

“Shh, it's ok. Brendan heard and told me. You don’t need to repeat it”

As he held you, you started to relax, enveloped in his warmth before you suddenly felt him go tense. Pulling back you looked up at him and saw him glaring across the room, turning to see your Grandmother walking into the kitchen;

“Henry, thought you were coming in here to put the kettle on?”

She walked to the kettle and hit the little lever to turn it on, and suddenly you were being carefully placed against the sink as Henry strode across the room and dramatically flicked the lever back to off;

“No”

“Excuse me?” the old woman exclaimed

“And I won't do that either. What you said to my wife was unacceptable, and you are nothing short of a bully. If a child in one of my classes had said what you said to another classmate, they would have been thoroughly reprimanded. But they are still learning how to speak to other people… you however have had ample years and have no excuse”

Rather than accept that her granddaughter's husband was right, your Grandmother crossed her arms;

“It’s about time you two had a child. In my day we had no issues whatsoever. Get married, have a child, it’s the right way of doing things. You two obviously don’t have your priorities straight”

“Oh that’s how it's going to be? Well how about the fact you didn’t even wait until you were married” Henry spat back, causing her to gasp.

“I have no idea what you mean”

“Funny that, how was your wedding anniversary to Derek in May and yet your son Brian’s birthday is September?”

Your Grandma glared at Henry;

“Well then, perhaps it was a case of my husband knew what he was doing”

“Oh i can assure you i know what i’m doing”

Your Grandmother snorted a peel of laughter, but Henry wouldn’t let her speak;

“But what would convince you? Seeing my dick in her cunt? Making sure my semen doesn’t drip out of her? Is that what you want to see?”

At his crudeness she was lost for words, but it made you smile to finally watch the old matriarch fumble for once. With the air in the room tense another voice caught your attention;

“I think it's time for you to go now”

You all turned, seeing your Dad at the doorway. Your heart sank as did Henry’s head, who turned and nodded, but your Dad caught his arm;

“Not you Henry”

Everyone’s attention snapped back to your Dad and then your Grandma. Your Dad was a silent type, a thinker and watcher, but when he made a decision it was stuck to.

“Mum, you’re leaving, you’re not welcome here anymore”

“Son…”

“Don’t. Brendan filled me in on what you said to my daughter. In years gone by I'd turned a blind eye, just putting it down to you being you in the way you treated her. I made sure I was always there for her, but never realised I failed her by simply letting you continue your bullying ways. You may be my mother but she is my child, and I will do anything to protect her…” he paused; “As will Henry. He’s part of this family now as well, and you will treat him with respect”

At that moment your Grandmother's husband appeared in the hallway, looking at the floor as he quietly said the car was ready. Your Dad stepped aside;

“Mum, time to leave”

“But… but your Christmas gifts!”

“We don’t want them. We’ve put them back in the car, find somewhere to donate them to”

She stepped towards him and your Dad looked away;

“Son”

“No. Get out of my house”

-

Sitting in the passenger seat, you set the heat onto a high heat setting and let the heated seat soothe your aching muscles. Henry drove quietly through the empty streets, one hand on the wheel, the other holding yours and you were thankful his Volvo had an automatic transmission so he could do so. 

Once back home you both silently climbed the stairs to your bedroom, getting undressed by the light coming in from the streetlamp outside. You were emotionally drained, unable to even consider putting any night clothes on so instead just climbed under the duvet naked. Henry always slept naked so this was no different for him, and he immediately pulled you into his arms, the little spoon to his big. After a few moments you felt him start to stir against your buttocks.

“Sorry, just ignore it” he apologised for getting hard

“What if i don’t want to ignore it?” you said quietly, arching your back and pushing your ass back against him. 

“Oh… are you sure Darling?”

Looking over your shoulder you smiled at your husband;

“I’m sure. I’ve had the sad part, i’ve had the angry time. Now i want the passionate time”

“I’m not going to say no” Henry muttered as he immediately started to kiss at your neck and shoulders, his hands wrapping around you, one playing with your breasts as the other slid between your thighs and sought out your slit.

This time you were turned on instantly and ready for more, your folds growing wet and your nipples hardening. Henry lifted your leg and you felt his thick length rub through your petals, dousing himself with your slick before he notched the tip at your entrance and slowly pushed deep into you. 

“Oh fuck, you feel so damn good” he muttered against your ear, his hips thrusting shallow strokes.

“More Henry, please, i want you to fuck me hard”

You could almost sense the dark grin on his face, before he pulled out and moved you onto your front. He parted your thighs but then managed to straddle them with his ridiculously long legs;

“Arch your back, push that arse out for me”

Doing as he asked you moved and were rewarded with the feel of his dick sliding back into you, Henry caging you in with his arms as he started to fuck into your tight hole, his teeth biting at your neck and shoulders;

“Feel so fucking good… gonna fuck you so hard…”

You loved it when Henry went rough, and in the right position it could turn lovemaking into feral mating. The curve of his dick meant your g-spot was getting hit repeatedly, and soon you could feel a powerful orgasm starting to build. Henry timed his thrusts with drags of his teeth down your back, before one particularly deep thrust hit the right spot and you were coming hard, shaking beneath him;

“Oh fuck… fuck fuck that’s good, oh my god, gotta cum…” Henry rambled as he reached his peak too, pumping deep into you as he emptied his balls deep within your womb.

For the longest time you both lay there, one on top of the other, chests heaving, bodies joined, before Henry tenderly pulled out of you. As he waddled to the bathroom you curled up on your side, and as he returned to the bed you were already asleep. Setting the cloth back into the bathroom he pulled the duvet over the pair of you and pulled you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

That night you both slept soundly. Completely unaware of the seed within you growing, already the start of a tiny life blessing you. Your Mum had been right; a seed planted on the darkest day will thrive the brightest.

[messers-moony]

Red Mugs | R.L

Paring: Remus Lupin X Wife!Reader

Summary: Her last breath was devoted to saving her husbands best friend who also happened to be her brother, memories of the past begin to fill her brothers mind.

“ Sirius! “ It was the last word that fell off her lips before a flash of green hit her from Bellatrix, ultimately saving Sirius’ life.

This girl was no hero, no superwomen, no stranger. She was a wife, a sister, and a daughter. Y/n Lupin, formally known as Y/n Black, the middle child of the black family. Disowned by her mother in her fifth year and seeker refuge with her close friend Remus. Being a Black daughter and sorted into Gryffindor wasn’t easy. Being a Black daughter, in general, isn’t easy. The one thing she took pride in? She was close with both her brothers till the very end.

He was in danger, and all she saw was red. Remus, her husband who had grieved for Sirius after learning he had betrayed the Potters and was kept in Azkaban. After extended evaluation and a multitude of arguments, Y/n proved that Sirius was innocent to her husband. It wasn’t enough to prove him innocent to the Ministry. Despite being Remus’ wife, she knew that Sirius meant more to him than she could ever imagine.

It wasn’t just Remus Y/n was thinking of. It was Harry, Harry Potter. The godson of Sirius Black and Y/n Black. But all Harry saw was Professor Lupin, teacher of Defense Against the Dark Arts, and his wife. Never Uncle Remus or Aunt Y/n, the titles they always wanted to hear.

Sirius watched as his little sister took the spell and fell back into the vail. He watched his little sister die by their cousin's hand. Remus had to grab Sirius by the neck in order from running after Bellatrix, which Harry did anyways. Tears streamed down the eldest Black brother's cheeks. He’d lost his youngest sibling when he was just twenty. Now he lost his last sibling at the age of thirty-seven. He was too young to have witnessed this many deaths.

Remus wanted to sob, wanted to cry for his now dead wife, but he couldn’t. Not right now. Sirius needed him before he had time to grieve. So when it was time, they apparated back to Grimmauld Place, where Sirius fell onto the couch. The man sat with his elbows on his knees, his palms holding his head up facing the fireplace. The same fireplace they used to make hot cocoa and joke around while their parents were out.

“ Sirius! Regulus! Come on! “ The thirteen-year-old girl called, making both her brothers run down the steps.

“ Here. One for you. “ She handed a cup to Sirius, “ And one for you. “ Y/n stated, smiling, giving another cup to Regulus.

They all sat around the fireplace with hot cocoa in their hands, “ I’m scared. “ Regulus admitted.

“ Scared? Why? “ Sirius inquired after taking a sip of his hot beverage, “ Mum keeps hurting you guys. I don’t want you to leave. “ Regulus confessed.

Both older siblings hugged either side of him, “ If we ever leave, you’re coming with us. “ Sirius stated, “ We’ll never leave you, Reggie. “ Y/n added.

Eventually, their cups got cold as they joked around together, feeling like kids for the first time in years. But every good night comes to an end. Sirius and Y/n had their arms wrapped around Regulus. The trio had fallen asleep. When Walburga and Orion returned home, Orion immediately went upstairs, assuming all his kids had fallen asleep. Walburga had seen them huddled up in the living room together and smiled fondly. Deciding that she’d pretend she never saw it.

A hand on his back snapped him from his flashback, “ Don’t blame this on yourself. “ The man had just lost his wife, yet his voice was so steady, “ How can I not? She died saving my sorry arse. “ Sirius retorted.

“ She died saving her brother. The same brother that would’ve done the same for her. “ Remus replied, and Sirius sighed, “ She shouldn’t have. She had a life to live. “

“ And you don’t? “ Remus queried with an eyebrow raised, “ She could’ve had a life with you, Moony! “ Sirius exclaimed.

The man chuckled bitterly, “ Y/n talked about it all the time how you and her planned to have a child one day, how she waited for me to leave Azkaban so I could be in the child’s life. How she wanted to find a place with you in London instead of staying here. “

“ I don’t have a wife. I never had a lover to care about, to come home to. She did. “ Sirius stated as tears filled his vision, “ Her life had more things in it than mine ever will. “

Remus had to swallow back the tears after hearing about these plans his wife talked about, “ Y/n lived the best life she could’ve ever had. “

“ How could you know? “ Sirius snapped, and Remus chuckled, “ Because she told me. “

“ Every morning, she told me how living through the days was a blessing. She used to say to me that if she died tomorrow that she wouldn’t have changed a thing. That she lived her life to its fullest. “ Remus explained, “ Y/n didn’t die with regrets or guilt. She was content. “

Sirius twisted a ring on his finger, “ This ring. “ He began, “ When we were kids, she used to steal things. “

“ Like my jumpers? “ Remus interjected jokingly, “ Yeah. “ Sirius laughed.

“ But she- she always nicked something from the shelf at a store, and one day she nicked this costly ring. Probably worth about three galleons, and she gave it to me for my fifteenth birthday just before I had left for the Potters and gotten disowned. “ He informed, twisting the ring off his finger and holding it out to the male beside him, “ I think you should take it. “

“ What? “ Remus was gobsmacked, “ Take it. “ Sirius insisted.

The male shook his head, “ No. Trust me. I have plenty of other things of hers. “

“ Do you have the Black photo books? “ Sirius questioned, “ I believe they’re in her study somewhere. “ Remus answered.

“ Do you- Do you think we could take a trip there after the war? “ Sirius questioned, and Remus nodded, “ Of course. “

The raven-haired male stared at the fireplace a little longer. Maybe if he stared long enough, the old memory of falling asleep with his siblings would come true. Now it even felt like he could see the coffee mugs on the table. The same red coffee mugs she had again, stolen from a store.

Sirius stood up and walked into the kitchen. Inside the cabinet laid three red mugs. The very same red mugs from those nights. She had placed them into the cupboard after starting to live here with her brother and husband. Sirius took two of them down and began making hot chocolate. After moments of making the beverage from memory, he walked back into the main room, where Remus had slight tears falling down his cheeks.

Swallowing thickly, he repeated her words, “ Here one for you. “

Remus took the cup gratefully and began drinking; soon enough, he realized it was her exact recipe. Taking a look at Sirius, who looked strangely nostalgic while drinking hot chocolate from a red mug. The trails of tears on either of their faces weren’t mistaken.

“ Red mugs. “ Sirius began, “ The only red in the house other than my bedroom. “

“ She nicked them from a market and hid them in her bedroom. On nights where both of our parents were out, she made me and Reggie hot cocoa. We used to sit on the floor in front of the sofa, talking until we fell asleep. “ He concluded, “ Full moons. “ Remus began.

He chuckled, “ Every night after a full moon, I was greeted with a red mug full of hot cocoa. It seemed to be the only thing distracting me while she cleaned my wounds. “

“ It didn’t matter if it was boiling hot outside. She always made hot cocoa for me, and it was always in a red mug, but I never understood why until now. “ Remus finished.

Sirius grabbed Remus’s hand and held it tight, “ One day, she’ll greet us with hot cocoa in a red mug again. We just have to wait. “

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Can You Get Enough Of Me? - Michael Myers x Reader

"It's a nice day today, huh?" Y/N smiled up at the sky as she went back and forth in the swing. "Will you push me, Mickey?" "Sure." he shrugged as he got off his own swing and went behind her, pushing her the best he could. "Look, Mickey, I'm flying! Whooooo!" the little girl giggled without a care in the world, as Michael watched her long, beautiful hair going everywhere. "Okay, okay, I wanna swing too!" but before the girl could take her time and stop swinging, a bunch of older boys came by and roughly grabbed the chains holding the swing, which in turn, made the girl fall off and get hurt. "Y/N!" Michael gasped as he ran to her side, helping her up, and seeing the blood seeping from one of her legs and arm. "Aww, Myers's got a giiirlfriend! Look at them, gonna fuck? Girl, don'tcha know, Myers's a faggot?" the gang hollered maliciously, and Y/N could only frown, despite the tears of pain from her injuries, and clinging on Michael for support, she got up and yelled at the boys. "Leave Michael alone, jerks! You're rude!" but instead of trying to fight them off, or go in a brawl, she grabbed her friend's arm and dragged him away from there, knowing that if he were to get in trouble again, he'd get some bad detention, and that's the last thing she'd want. Besides...Two kids couldn't possibly fight those guys. "Why didn't you let me fight them?! I could've taken them on!" the blond boy glared at his friend, who only rolled her eyes and sighed at his childishness. "No, you couldn't. Besides, if the teachers find out you got in trouble again, who knows what will happen? Come on, let's go to the fountain, I have to wipe off the blood." Y/N muttered, going on ahead to sit on the rocks by the fountain and took out her handkerchief from her little bag, dipping it in the water and carefully wiping away the red liquid streaming down her limbs, hissing from the pain here and there, but otherwise, staying completely silent. "I'm sorry..." the girl suddenly heard the blond boy mutter, barely audible. "Huh? What do you have to be sorry about, Mickey?" as her eyes widened from the shock, she leaned forward, raising his chin up with her finger. "...I couldn't protect you. I suck. I'm as bad as that fuckass says I am..." he sighed, gently pulling away her hand and looking away from her. "Look at what they did to you. Could've been much worse. And yet, you stood up for me, while I did nothing. I'm a horrible friend." his voice was pitiful, and it was obvious he hated his lack of strength. "First of all, you aren't just my friend. You're my BEST friend. Okay? And nothing in this world will change that. Got it? Okay. Second of all, we're still little and weak. That's how kids are. Trying to fight those guys is like trying to fight the forces of nature...You...You can't fight a hurricane, you know? And...Violence isn't the answer. I mean...Look at our parents. There's nothing good coming out of that...But someday! Someday we'll get older and stronger, and nobody will bully us anymore! It just...It takes a while...I guess." she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly, trying to comfort him. "That's shit! They'll see, they'll ALL pay for it! Nobody will dare be fuckers with us anymore! And when I grow up, I will make sure everyone is nice to you." he was so revolted, but his anger gradually dissipated as he felt her warmth. "Please don't speak like that. Calm down, Mickey. Things are okay now. At least we have each other, and we will always have each other, don't forget that, okay?" she leaned her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes for a while, only to hear an aggressive male voice booming through the park which made the girl yelp and tremble in fear. "GET AWAY FROM THAT FREAK, Y/N! GET HERE RIGHT NOW!" her father yelled at her and she could only whimper silently, trying to stop herself from hyperventilating. "B-But daddy, Michael is not bad...! H-He tried to protect me from those mean boys from the playground!" she spoke meekly, slowly walking in front of her father, her head hung in fear, only for the man to burry his hand in

her hair, pulling on it roughly, making the girl yelp in pain. "Don't talk back to me, you stupid little bitch! You have no right to go against what I say while you're under MY roof, got it? Home, now." Michael couldn't even retaliate in any way, knowing that if he were to cause trouble for her, she would get in even more trouble, and that's the last thing he'd want...But why did it have to be her...?

He can take it, alright...But her...That's just not acceptable. She is small, and weak, and frail, and innocent...And there is nobody who can protect her.

Nobody but him...

----

"Michael, Michael, are we going trick or treating today?" Y/N asked, skipping around him in her cutesy witch costume, while he was a boring clown. "I guess." he shrugged, pulling down his clown mask. "Come on, it's Halloween, Mickey! You love Halloween! It's your favourite holiday! And we get free candy! It's gonna be fuuun~!" she bumped him with her body, making him stumble a bit, before looking at her and groaning. "Fine, fine, we're going. I just have to tell my mum." he grabbed her wrist and dragged her to his house, but on the way, she stopped him. "Hey, how about we trick or treat all the houses on the way to yours? I mean, there's nothing bad in that, right? We're just going home! It's not even considered a detour!" Y/N grinned widely, her beautiful eyes sparkling with excitement. "...Okay, let's do that." as he said that, Michael took out his candy bag from his schoolbag and taking her hand, they went to all house from both sides of the street. "Trick or Treat!" they both exclaimed as the first grandma opened the door with a loving look on her face. "Ahh, my, my, how cute you two are! And what do we have here...A very adorable, magical witch! And...A funny clown! How lovely!" the woman clapped her hands together to her chest, admiring the two kids. "Ma'am, he's not just a clown, he is my jester! Isn't he so cute?" she threw her arms around his neck, slamming his face to hers as she grinned even wider, making the woman laugh at them. "Yees, yes, I understand! Here, darlings, you're so adorable, take all of these. Hope to see you two, cuties, next year as well! Have fun!" the grandma patted both their heads before going back to her home. "Wiiicked! Look how much candy we've got! My fave holiday is Christmas, but honestly, Halloween is a very close runner up! Our teeth will literally rot after this!" the girl giggled as she inspected each variety of candy in her bag, "I love it 'cause I can spare people." Michael shrugged simply, but he also munched on some candy corn. "Would you scare me, Mickey?" Y/N turned her face to his, her eyes widening with a glimmering, innocent curiosity. "...No. I wouldn't. But you're the only one, okay?! Everyone else, I'd scare!" he tried to sound scary and dangerous, but it only made the little girl giggle and kiss his cheek. "You're my hero! My handsome knight in shining armour, Mickey! Thank you for protecting me. You're the best." help his soul, he wasn't used to people saying good things about him... "...But I'm ugly...That's why I wear a mask so often..." he muttered, looking down at the ground. "No! That's so not true! You're very pretty, okay? I love your face! And you have the most gorgeous eyes in the world! And...And...And your hair is so lovely, I'm jealous! Please don't say bad things about yourself, Mickey, it makes me very upset." she pouted, hugging him tightly, and it was pretty clear neither of them wanted to let go. "You won't leave me, would you, Y/N?" Michael's low voice came out barely above a whisper, but it was the only time he ever allowed himself to show any kind of weakness or vulnerability. "Never. Some day, we will be together forever, okay?" she ruffled his hair playfully, which made his face flush softly. "Hey, actually...Here you go. This is yours now. This way, if you're ever lonely, you'll remember I'm always thinking of you, okay?" Y/N grinned sweetly at him as she took off her flower-charmed necklace and put in on him, hiding it under his costume, so nobody else could see it. "Mum gave this to me on my birthday, before she died. It means the world for me, and so do you. So...Don't forget that, okay? I hope you'd smile more, you have a very pretty smile." as she said that, she squished his chipmunk cheeks.

The boy said nothing - What was he supposed to do, anyway? He was overwhelmed entirely by the only person who makes him feel...Good? But he had to go home, and he already knew that home was hell, and by the time he went there, he knew he wouldn't actually be going trick or treating, as promised...And he'd have to let Y/N down again.

Stupid family.

With a very disappointed voice, he went outside of the house and told the girl that he can't go trick or treating with her, but instead of yelling or disappointment, she just smiled and hugged him.

"It's alright! There's always next year! And besides, we already kinda went trick or treating, right? Sweet dreams, Mickey! Take care!" she waved at him cheerfully and skipped back home.

But little did she know that would be the last Halloween they'd spend together, for that night, a massacre happened at his home, and deep down, Y/N knew.

She just...Knew.

It was Michael who created that blood bath. He couldn't take all that abuse anymore, and Y/N understood that well enough...And she hated herself for thinking this, but she knew she was selfish...

If Michael didn't kill his family, they'd still have been able to hang out daily, and laugh together, lick each other's wounds, and go trick or treating on Halloween...

But she had to be happy with visiting him at Smith's Grove institute weekly with his mum, and they'd chat, and talk, and try to get him out of the shell that he hid himself into...

And he wouldn't stop hiding his face behind his masks, every week, a new one, a new one, and a new one, each time, weirder and creepier and grotesque.

No matter what his mother told him, and no matter what Y/N told him...Michael didn't listen, and the more time he spent there, the less he spoke...Until he hasn't said a word to Y/N in at least two weeks. It made the poor girl tear up, fearing that he hated her, but at least he'd shake his head and clutch his shirt where the gifted necklace would be.

And she would understand.

His mother was confused, and the Dr. was confused as well, but Y/N wasn't, and she'd smile at him and wouldn't explain what happened. It was their little secret, and nobody would be able to be made aware of.

And then...After many weeks of visiting, Michael stuck again and killed a nurse, which led to his mother committing suicide, and since she had nobody to go with to visit him, the last thing she could do was send in letters weekly, hoping they will be given to him, but she had no way of knowing, since nobody wanted to tell her anything, and no reply came by.

Until she gave up writing, thinking that Michael actually hated her, and decided to go on with her life, and her father made her move away to another state to get better education.

15 years passed, and the now 27 year old Y/N was a University graduate who worked hard and was able to get her old home in Haddonfield...To think she'd finally be able to go there again, she never would have thought that.

But here she was, having found a nice, well-paying job, and she was pretty happy, albeit nostalgic, being again back...Home. By the time she returned, she had already learnt how to play the guitar too, so every Friday night, she'd sit on her porch and play a song, softly singing along, hoping not to disturb anyone.

"I was made for lovin' you baby, you were made for loving me..." she hummed, singing the song by Kiss as she looked up at the starry night with no care in the world.

It was a simple life, but it was good and peaceful - And she had quite a lot of money to do with as she pleases - What else could ask for?

"BREAKING NEWS! A psychiatric patient from Smith's Grove escaped just last night and -..." but Y/N didn't bother hearing the rest of it, because...Because... "Michael...!" she gasped, covering her mouth with both her hands from the shock, tears threatening to fall and she goes outside, looking around, left and right, down the street, hoping to see a glimpse of the blond boy she once held so dear to her heart.

And what a coincidence, tomorrow night was Halloween...Did he do it on purpose? Did he even remember the days they spent together? Or how special Halloween was for him? Did he still have that silly necklace with him? Did he ever read her letters?

So many questions that she was pretty sure she'll never get an answer to, and that thought alone killed her.

The next day, she dressed in her Kiss loose Tshirt, remembering how that was Michael's favourite band, and somewhere in her heart, she hoped to see him again, even just by a little bit. Even a glimpse at his beautiful blue eyes would be enough.

But she knew she was dreaming...

She went to work as usual, but she was so busy that she didn't realise she ended up overstaying and overworking herself until she left the place and realised it was already dark outside, and there were barely any children trick or treating - But hey, there still were a few - And Y/N couldn't help but smile and remember the cute witch and her loyal jester.

The good times...

As she hummed carefree and looked up at the starry sky, but then she heard a crack, and looking back...Nothing? Hmm...Suspicious... She continued walking, but the ominous feeling in the back of her head continued, and so, she took out her pocket mirror and noticed a man somewhere in the back, walking towards her. A colleague from work, she recognised him, yes, she remembers him. He was kicked out from the job because of his inappropriate behaviour...And him following her now truly was no good news.

Analysing the situation, she realised she was close enough to home to make a break for it, so taking a deep breath, she sprinted the hell out of there...But...things didn't go as expected.

Before she could even reach her home, for she was pushed to the ground and straddled, his hands immediately finding their way around her neck, trying to immobilise her, to stop her from struggling and let him have his way with her.

But Y/N was a fighter, and she didn't want to allow the bullying she experienced as a child to take over her adult life, but she also didn't have the body strength to go against this guy, no matter how much she tried to struggle.

However...Before she knew it, the man stopped - Almost as if he froze - And she was splattered with liquid. It was blood. The man above her was stabbed in the chest, then in the head continuously, before his body was snatched and tossed away like a ragdoll.

Great - Y/N thought - From one criminal to another, with a whimper, she tried to get up and run away, but the man was too fast for her, and he picked her up with a weird ease, getting her inside her own house and letting her fall down on her couch.

The man saw fear in her eyes, and she was whimpering, her head hung as she tried to make herself as small as possible - As if she wasn't already so small, especially compared to him - It was pissing him off, as he remembered her jackass father abusing her. He would never hurt her! He promised her he'd always protect her, so why is she so scared of him...?!

"E-Excuse me...Uhm...Mister...A-Are you...Maybe...Uhmm...Are you Michael...?" she stuttered in such a meek voice that it grated his brain. This isn't right, Y/N was cheerful and happy. This...This wasn't right... The man got a hand underneath the neck of his blouse, only to reveal the old flower necklace from long ago. "Michael...! It really is you...Michael...I can't believe it! Oh my God...You grew up so much, this is insane!" as if a switch turned inside her, the girl jumped on her couch and threw herself on the incredibly tall man, not caring whether he liked it or not.

He was her Michael, and she missed him.

"You still don't talk, do you? Well...At least take off this mask of yours. I told you, I hate it when you hide yourself from me. I want to see your beautiful face." she chuckled, pulling Michael down with her on the couch, as he stood with his hands mid-way in the air, rather awkwardly, before finally pulling up his old mask and threading with it with his hands that were laying on his lap. "There we go, as beautiful as ever." she chuckled softly as she parted his long, dirty blond hair and letting it fall down his back, so his face could properly be seen. "Oh my God, you even have a stubble. I can't believe it. Well, we are all grown up after all, aren't we? Seems like almost yesterday when we'd go trick or treating...On this very day." she kept talking of the nostalgic things from so long ago, so much that it made Michael grunt in amusement, but his face didn't sketch any emotion. It really upset Y/N, it felt like talking to a wall. "Well, at least I'm happy that you remember me. I didn't think you did. I kinda thought you hated me too, I didn't know if you got any of my letters either. Uhm...I don't really know what to say. It's weird talking to myself like that. But I'm happy to see you again." she continued speaking before stopping altogether and fidgeting awkwardly on her spot next to him, as he didn't even move, or bother saying a single word.

They stood like that for a while, until Michael suddenly started moving, and revealed a bunch of unopened letters - All from her.

"You have all of them...!" Y/N gasped in shock, taking the letters and examining all of them one by one. "Why didn't you open them?" but instead of an answer, he shook his head. "Did you...Not have them...Until recently?" Y/N tried to guess, and the answer came in the form of a nod. "That stupid doctor! How dare he?! ...You must have felt so lonely stuck there...With your mum shooting herself, I couldn't go there anymore, so I sent you letters weekly...The doctor promised to give them to you...Urgh, what a jerk. And I thought you hated me and that's why you didn't want to reply to them...But you just got them. How annoying." Y/N groaned, realising the truth of what happened, and she let the letters fall down on the coffee table.

After some more silence between the two, Michael pointed towards her shirt, and she smiled, nodding and taking her guitar before leaning on his side. "Yeah, I know it's your favourite band. I never forgot that." she chuckled, and as she started playing the same song she knew so well - And she felt a strong arm sneaking around her waist, pulling her closer to his body. It surprised her a bit, but she felt so safe and warm in his embrace.

"I was made for lovin' you baby, you were made for lovin' me. And I can't get enough of you, baby..." she sang in the same sweet, crystalline, soft voice that he loved so much, and missed over the many years they've been separated.

"...Can you get enough of me?"

[prfctethereal]

Can you write James Potter smut please. Thank you

frosted hearts. | james potter

pairing: single dad!james potter x preschool teacher!reader

word count: 3.5k

warnings: NSFW. smut, sub!james, dom!reader, talk of masturbation, talk of punishment, mommy kink, praise kink, tit sucking, thigh riding, slap and degrading kink only for a short amount of time at the end

summary: you are harry’s preschool teacher and one day james is late to picking his son up from school

**

It was hard to be around screaming toddlers, all day, every day. By the end of your long shifts, your head was blistered by the engraved sound of whining, moaning, and that smacking sound the children make with their lips.

But for the most part, you loved being around kids. Their tenderness brought so much joy to you and you were happy to have become an early childhood teacher. Your workplace was loving, with your fellow teachers continuously supporting you through everything. Even the kids were decently nice.

The age old stigma that kids were devil spawn seemed like the most foreign concept to as you coddled a near sleeping three year old, his warm body curled up to your side. Reading a children’s story to the kids, you felt so much adoration for the children around you, enough to make your cheeks rouge. All of them looked at you with doe eyes as you finished the last page.

“And the princess and the prince fell in love and lived happily ever after.” You closed the book with a soft clap. “The end.”

Looking around, the children beamed, flashing their pearly, toothy smiles towards you. In that moment, you felt at peace, almost content, knowing that you were bringing enjoyment to the kids surrounding you. Gently, you stroked the arm of the nearest child, Harry, as he slowly unraveled from your side.

“Miss?” Harry asked placidly, his tiny fingers down playing with the hem of your skirt. He looked up at you, fluttering his long eyelashes.

“Yes, Harry?” You responded, once you knew that he wasn’t going to speak without permission.

“Do you have a prince?”

At those words, you frowned, your smile disappearing from your face. Admittedly, you have been quite lonely for the past year. Focusing on work has been devastating for your social life. After your messy breakup with your previous partner, you felt like it was unnecessary to rush into another relationship. Quickly enough, those days turned into months, and eventually a year. Your dry spell was becoming quite unbearable.

As the winter months closed in, you wished for more comfort at night. The smoking fireplace could only fill your lonely apartment with so much warmth before you got desperate - needy - for something more. Some nights were spent with your fingers curled up into your cunt, tight from the months of neglect, desperately trying to churn some pleasure out of you, but, there was only so much your own fingers could do. They couldn’t go nearly as deep enough, or stretch you nearly as much as you so deeply desired. You were starting to become flustered just thinking about it.

“No.” Your reply was short, until you realised the kids around you would want a longer explanation. Sighing, you folded your hands in your lap, pursing your lips forward. “I’m not a princess of any sort. Even then, sometimes people don't have someone with them.”

“Just like my Daddy.” Harry babbled unprompted, dawdling away from you to join the midst of his pre-school friends. “He is all alone too.”

You knew Harry’s father, and just the thought of him made you curl your toes in delight. He was one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. Deep hazel eyes that light up when he laughs. Plump pink lips that frame his mischievous smile. Strong, muscular arms, complimenting his toned hands, that you can imagine wrapped around your neck...

Before you could even process the dubious insult thrown your way, you felt a sprinkling of fingers press lightly against your shoulders, snapping you out of your daze. Furrowing your eyebrows, you traveled your eyeline up, locking eyes with another teacher who worked there, Lily.

She looked absolutely wrecked. You knew she had been on the phone for most of the afternoon, for reasons you didn’t know, but you expected that you were going to be told now, as she beckoned you away from the kids.

“One moment.” You held up your finger, showing the kids an example of counting. As you walked away, you saw the kids out of the corner of your eye. They too had one finger in the air, repeating the same word - “One!” - over and over to each other. It was very cute.

“Roads have been closing because of the weather.” Lily started, her nimble fingers gesturing out of the frosted window panes. She was right; the roads were starting to look pretty bad. A thin layer of snow seemed to be shredding downwards, coating the town like powdered sugar. The sun stayed behind the clouds, not even daring to peek through, keeping the town in a cold flurry, and keeping the children inside. This was going to be a long shift.

“So, we’ll have to stay here longer tonight?” You asked, an exasperated sigh leaving your lips. You brought the pads of your index fingers up to the window pane, feeling the chill of the temperature seem into your skin. WIthout realising it, you traced a heart shape into the frost, your own heart sighing as you exhaled.

“Hopefully not.” Lily replied. “I’ve contacted all the parents and have told them to come pick up their kids as soon as possible. This storm seems to not be slowing down any time soon. So, potentially, we might be able to go home early, if the children all get picked up before the snow gets too thick. And, don’t bother coming in tomorrow. The snow’s gonna settle, meaning there will be road closure all across town.”

“Great.” A sarcastic laugh poured from your mouths as you turned back to the kids, who were still being occupied by the thought of having one finger in the air. “We should start getting them ready then.”

You and Lily worked diligently side by side, bundling the kids up in layers of soft clothing, keeping them secure from the storm. The kids joined in too, helping to clean the classroom, picking up litter off of the floor, and clearing off tables. As you sprayed down the surfaces of the tables and kitchen counters, you hummed a soft tune, getting into the rhythm of cleaning.

While you were occupied with cleaning, parents started arriving, greeting their kids with loving smiles and gentle touches. You melted as the kids ran excitedly into their parents arms, wrapping themselves around their mums and dads, wishing to not let go. In those sweet moments, you felt a fleeting pang of loneliness. You longed for your own child, and with that, a loyal husband. You breathed out a sigh, something that was becoming quite regular for you by now.

As more and more parents arrived, you saw the sun trickle behind the horizon. Soon, the night sky appeared, painting the sky in hues of indigo and cerulean. As much as you loved the night, you didn’t love the idea of being stuck here all night, and neither did Lily, who was looking even more restless than you.

Her ginger hair fell across her face, partially blocking her vision as she lethargically signed out the second to last kid. Deep, violet bags were forming under her eyes, her skin borderline white from her exhaustion. It was getting hard to look at.

“Why don’t you just go home?” Your offer made Lily perk her head up. “You look way too tired to even continue standing on two feet.”

“I couldn't do that to you.” Lily yawned, clasping her perfectly manicured hand over her mouth. “And besides, Harry hasn’t been picked up yet. I still have to do my job.”

You looked at her with pity in your eyes. You hadn’t seen her this exhausted in years, and you knew her anxiety was bubbling up as more and more snow fell onto the ground. “Please just go Lily. It’s only Harry; I can monitor him by myself. You need to get home before the snow gets heavier.” Before she could butt in, you continued. “Besides, Harry much prefers me over you.”

Lily laughed, closing you tightly into a friendly hug. “Thank you so much. I’ll get you back another day. Are you sure you’re all good closing up on your own?”

“Go home.” You waved her away dismissively. Lily bounced around and in only five minutes, she had collected herself, and had dashed out the door, leaving only you and Harry in the pre-school.

He was looking quite tired himself, which was understandable. By now, it was nearly eight o’clock at night, a time you knew was well past his bedtime. Harry had curled himself up on one of the naptime beds himself, his raven hair falling over his eyes. Staying by his side, you caressed his back, until he fell into a soft slumber.

You felt lonely again. Harry was asleep and there was nothing left for you to do until Harry’s father arrived to pick him up. You knew a few things about Harry’s father, from the fleeting conversations you had had over the time Harry had been at this school. You knew his name was James, and he looked like heaven. Everytime you glanced his way, you felt yourself grow wet. It probably was a problem, but your secret crush didn’t hurt anyone, so you kept it secret.

Long after it had become dark, you finally saw canary coloured headlights glint in the distance. It was a relatively nice car, something you’d expect a well paid ministry worker, like James, to drive. You watched attentively as the car parked slowly and surely. Then, the car door opened, and you got your first look of James for the day.

He definitely looked a little tired but there was something endearing about it. His fluffy brown hair was slightly disheveled, as if he had run his fingers through it greatly. His round glasses sat low on his nose bridge, with his natural eyes scanning the area. There, he locked eyes with you through the window, the same window you had drawn your pathetic heart on. Right then, James was positioned right in the middle of the heart, condensation like a halo.

Before you knew it, James had opened up the door into the school, realising a sigh of relief when he was hit by the warmth of the classroom. Dramatically, he closed the door behind him, leaning up against the frame, apologies falling from his lips like rain from the sky.

“I’m so sorry I was late. Traffic was crazy. Too many road closures.” James seemed frantic, but the solidarity of the preschool was definitely calming his mood down.

“There’s no need to apologise, Mr Potter. Harry is delightful to look after.”

“Please,” James held out his hand, “call me James.” You intertwined your fingers with hsi, shaking his hand ever so lightly, the same hand you had fantasised about. It was everything you dreamed of.

“I should drive Harry home now.” James broke the silence, his voice cutting through the tension, making you want to salivate. You didn’t like the idea of James driving in his state, especially since he looked so tired. If anything, he would need some caffeine in him before the journey.

You reached your hand up, stroking his right cheek with your left hand, concern filling your eyes. “Oh, please James, you look so tired. Let me make you a cup of tea before you journey back home. You look as though you need it.”

James chuckled. “Alright then, just one though. Besides, Harry seems to be having a lovely nap. Wouldn't want to disturbed him now, would we?”

You guided James into the back kitchen through a secret door. Here was your break room where you could have some peace and quiet away from the kids. It was one of your favourite places in the entire school, because even though you loved the kids, sometimes you just needed a place to help you unwind, and unwind you did. Countless times you had fallen asleep back here and had dreamed of James.

“We have Earl Grey. Is that okay?” You looked through your cupboards, eyes locking onto a small red box, tea bags flooding out of it. Personally, you weren’t a big fan of it, that's why there were still so many, but James didn’t seem to mind it.

“Please, sounds lovely, dear.”

You worked in silence, turning the kettle on to boil. Carefully, you dunked a tea bag into a mug, swirling it around in your fingers as you waited for the water to boil. The emptiness of volume was killing; you could’ve heard a pin drop. James was the one to speak up first.

“Harry really likes you. He talks about you often.”

“Oh really?” You chuckled in disbelief, facing away from James, fiddling with some lint of your sweater.

“Yes. Sometimes, he even calls you Mum. I’m happy that he has a mother figure like you to look after him.” You chuckled when hearing James’ words, which confused him. “Why are you laughing?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” You said, reaching for the kettle. “He’s just not the only one to have called me Mommy before.”

James furrowed his brows, even more confused. “You have kids of your own?”

“Not quite.” You swung your head around, throwing James a cheeky grin. That’s when he understood what you meant. He gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, his pants seeming just a bit tighter than before. It was definitely hotter in the room.

“What normally happens when people call you that?” James asked, testing the waters. As you stood to move around, the chair scraped against the wooden floors, alerting you of his prowling presence.

When he was a mere inch away from you, you smirked once again. “Why don’t you kiss me and find out?” You weren’t sure where this rush of confidence was coming from but you both seemed to not want to slow down.

Consciously, James raised his hand to your cheek, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. His soft hands lingered a little too long, before his eyes flickered downwards towards your lips. You knew what he wanted, but you never took him for the shy type. Something about this made you aroused. Needing relief desperately, you lunged forwards, connecting your lips to his.

It was everything you thought it would be. Hungry, passionate, skilled. Your lips melded perfectly together with his, as his lips sucked gently on your top lip. Yearning for something more, you moved your hands down to his ass, giving James an experimental squeeze. Just like how you wanted, he gasped, giving you the perfect entrance to insert your tongue into his ready mouth. He moaned, his lips vibrating against you.

“Show your Mommy how much you need her.” You pulled away, whispering those words at the shell of his ear. You could hear James whimper in front of you, positioning himself so he was straddling one of your thighs, as you were pushed up against the counter tops.

James’ fingers worked at the hem of your sweater. Eager to remove as many clothes as possible from you, he tugged at the edge, slow whimpers escaping his pretty mouth, as you tilted your head down to his neck, aching to leave soft love bites on his skin.

He was getting needier and more submissive by the minute, but to you, he was acting like a brat. “That’s not how we ask for something we want, is it baby? Use your words.”

“Please Mommy, may I take your sweater off?”

With a curt nod, you obliged, watching James’ eyes light up in fascination. Quickly, he pulled your sweater over your head, glad to see that your thin shir had stuck to the material of your sweater, leaving you in just a bra on top. His eyes were transfixed by the way your nipples were hard on your pert breasts, sticking out from your bra.

“Can I take your bra off please, Mommy?” James’ hands had already made their way around your torso, preparing for the inevitable.

“Yes love, good boy for asking.” You felt James grow harder against your thigh as you praised him, a thought that made you smirk in delight and what could be in store.

Like you were made of glass, James slipped the bra off of your shoulders, dragging it slowly off of your arms. You knew he wasn’t teasing on purpose, as it seemed that he was distracted by the sight of your tits, but you needed relief anyway, bucking your thigh up against his crotch as encouragement. “They’re all yours.”

Delighted, James leaned in, his whole mouth engulfing your nipple. With vigour, he bagan sucking, the pleasure of it going straight down into your core. You moaned loudly, something you learned that egged James on. Greedily, he started rubbing his hands down your side, eager to feel all of your skin. You didn’t mind though, as you were lost in your own moment.

“Good- good boy.” You stuttered out as James’ mouth left the centre of the nipple, beginning to suck small bruises into the side of your boob. Normally, you would punish him - well, anyone - for doing that without permission, but you didn’t care at that moment.

Content with his handiwork, James moved onto your next nipple, ready to give you the same amount of pleasure as last time. As he worked your nipple to a bright scarlet like the last one, you noticed a curious movement with his hips. Looking down, you saw James, rutting his hips into you, humping your thigh as if he was a bitch in heat. You moaned at the sight.

“You like that, huh? You like,” -  you jolted your thigh upwards - “Mommy’s thigh?”

“Mmm, so good.” James mumbled against your tit. You knew he was close to coming, but you weren’t quite done with him yet. Pulling him away from your body, you looked into his eyes to see a hurt expression, something you didn’t like seeing. Luckily, it wasn’t going to last long.

“If you can make Mommy cum from your tongue, then I’ll let you cum on my thigh, alright?” With an excited nod of his head, James immediately sunk to his knees, diving his head underneath your skirt. His fingers worked quickly, stretching the fabric of your panties to the side so he had the best access possible. When you heard a muffled “Oops” against your thigh, you could tell that your panties had snapped from James’ force, but you didn’t mind. He made up for it by being so damn skilled.

He dove in nearly straight away, his tongue licking straight up the lips of your cunt, lapping at it as if it was his first ever meal. The end of his tongue teased the entrance to your velvet walls, pressing in ever so slightly and pulling away, creating tension and frustration for you. But it felt so good.

“Feels so good, darling. Doing so good, my good boy. My good, good boy.” You knew he was spurred on by praise, so you gave him what he needed. Threading your fingers in his hair, you held him down slightly, taking the tiniest amount of control back.

When he began sucking at your clit, that's when you really felt the tide going out. It was ebbing at your senses, the only indication being your shaking body and the mewling whimpers coming from your mouth. This only encouraged James further to topple you over the edge.

Slowly, James brought his fingers up to your cunt, teasing your entrance with his finger. Then, he slipped it inside of you, feeling the way you clenched around his finger. You were so tight that James dreamed of how you would feel around his cock, these thoughts going straight to his straining dick in his pants. He needed relief, so he worked faster, inserting another finger and pumping faster.

You were so close by now. The combined stimulation of James’ lips suctioning at your clit and his fingers working in and out of you was too much. With one last hard suck, you felt your orgaasm wash over you like a tsunami. You could hardly hold yourself up, and that was evident by the way you toppled to your side. The only reason you didn’t hit the floor was because of James’ lightning fast reflexes, keeping you upright.

“Did I do good, Mommy?” James asked, his shiny eyes looking up at you with adoration, his lips glistening with your cum. You smiled sweetly down at him, stroking his cheek with your hand, until you pulled it back and gave him a harsh slap across his face.

“It was so good baby, but I thought I said only using your tongue?” James had the look of realisation on his face, but you kept going. “Naughty boys who don’t follow rules have to be punished, and I don't think you want to get put in the Naughty Corner, do you?”

James whimpered, but it sounded like he was enjoying the degradation. A smile spread across your face.

“Oh so you do? Good boy.”

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Maeve//i don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you

Request: Could you please do something else with Maeve? Perhaps something where reader works with Maeve on an English project and she's surprised that they have so much in common. She realizes she has feelings for her somehow after that? Sorry that's sort of rubbish, have a swell day/night.

hey! what’s up everybody! i hope everyone is well, and i hope you like this!! title is from ‘the lakes’ by taylor swift! 

- English projects are never fun 

- I mean, who finds constant stress and a deadline that’s always far too close fun?

- Nobody

- That’s who

- Well apart from Mrs Jones

- Your year 9 English teacher who made every minute of her classes a living hell

- And who mysteriously went missing half way through the year after having a screaming match with a fellow English teacher

- When she was supposed to be teaching you Romeo & Juliet. 

- One day she was accusing Miss Newman of being a terrible teacher and purposefully bumping up students grades so she looked better 

- And the next day both her and Miss Newman were gone 

- And you only got a replacement teacher when you moved into year 10

- Right now though 

- Its seems Miss Sands is going through some stuff 

- Because not only did she give you an assignment on Friday with a deadline of Monday 

- She also chose your partners instead of letting you choose your own

- Which is why you’re stood outside of Maeve’s in the pouring rain

- On a frankly miserable Saturday morning 

- It seems the weather knew exactly what sort of weekend you were facing 

- And decided to make it even worse. 

- By the third knock 

- You’re about to give up 

- The curtains are still drawn 

- And you’ve seen more movement in a graveyard 

- Plus

- You kind of already assumed you would be doing the project alone 

- Maeve Wiley was known for being very...

- ...independant 

- And group projects are no different 

- You actually think she may be more independent during group projects

- So as soon as Miss Sands paired you together 

- You knew 

- You were 99% sure that 

- You’d do your thing

- She’d do hers 

- And then five minutes before the presentation 

- You would figure out a way to connect the two.

- Anywayyyy

- While daydreaming about a time when you won’t have any assignments 

- And making awkward, accidental eye contact with Maeve’s neighbours 

- The door in front of you opens 

- Simultaneously giving you a fright and almost knocking you out

- She yawns and scratches the top of her head 

- ‘what are you doing here?’ 

- She sounds both tired and annoyed and you blink at her a few times before answering 

- ‘er - i - the project. for english.’ 

- It takes her a few seconds to process what you’ve said 

- But when she does 

- She looks even more miserable than she did five seconds ago

- And you brace yourself for a long weekend 

- She sighs and rolls her eyes 

- Before slowly opening the door properly and letting you in

- You feel slightly nervous as you walk in 

- But you really have no idea why

- It’s not like she’s a complete stranger 

- But then again 

- She’s not exactly a friend 

- ‘don’t worry, i’ve hidden the drugs. i don’t really like to share anyway.’ 

- ‘what?’ you ask confused and she rolls her eyes again 

- She huffs and crosses her arms before nodding to the slightly messy living room

- ‘i get it. we’re a bunch of benefit fraud chavs that do nothing but drink and smoke all day.’ 

- ‘that’s not what i was thinkin-’ 

- ‘sure it wasn’t.’ she rolls her eyes and you stare down at the floor. ‘i need to get changed so make yourself at home I suppose.’ 

- She walks into what you assume is her bedroom and slams the door behind her 

- Leaving you to stand awkwardly in the middle of the living room

- It’s small and slightly cramped 

- And most people would say that all the stuff makes it look busy 

- But to you 

- It’s wonderful 

- It’s filled with stories and memories 

- Some self explanatory 

- Some slightly more bizarre 

- Like the wonky blue and yellow clay swan living on the coffee table 

- You really want to know the story behind it 

- But decide it might be a little early in your partnership to start asking about her attachment to a half swan, half moth looking ornament

- So instead you pick up a pile of books on the dining table and move them onto the floor 

- You can hear Maeve opening and closing drawers while humming a familiar tune 

- And you feel yourself relax slightly as you place your laptop and books where the books were previously sat 

- Even if it does feel like you’re using all of your braincells to try and figure out where you’ve heard it before 

- ‘wow, do you actually trust me around that?’ 

- ‘what?’ you stop humming and look up at her 

- She looks between you and the laptop, staring at you expectantly 

- ‘oh no. i mean of course i do.’ you blush and she shakes her head before sitting opposite you 

- ‘so what do we know about women in fiction?’ 

- ‘historically they are written as either a femme fatalle type or some sort of innocent angelic being.’ 

- ‘they still are’ 

- ‘true’ you agree and flick through your textbook

- ‘why don’t we write about that then?’ 

- ‘what? how we’re still depressingly far back in the equality movement, despite being told otherwise?’ 

- She stares at you for a few seconds 

- A mixture of shock and surprise 

- Before nodding 

- And smiling 

- An actual genuine smile 

- You didn’t even know she could do that 

- Well you did 

- Of course you did 

- But you just haven’t seen it a lot 

- Usually when you see Maeve 

- She’s either mad, grumpy or very, very, very angry

- But her smiling 

- Puts a smile on your face 

- And this was definitely not where you thought this was going 

- ‘yeah...that’ 

- ‘okay.’ you shrug. ‘you can do classic literature because i know you prefer them and i’ll cover modern works.’

- ‘how do you know i prefer classics?’ 

- ‘the pile of books’ you nod towards the floor and she follows your gaze, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. ‘they’re all ripped and folded. you either love them or really, really hate them’ 

- ‘okay’ she eyes you suspiciously as you focus on your laptop 

- And you can feel your cheeks heat up under her gaze 

- However as quickly as they were there 

- They disappear 

- And the two of you fall into a surprisingly comfortable silence. 

- After about half an hour 

- Maeve stops what she’s doing to stretch 

- ‘is it okay if i play some music?’ 

- ‘sure, it’s your place. do what you want...as long as its not awful’ 

- ‘and what constitutes as awful?’ she asks, a smirk playing on her lips

- ‘well’ 

- And with that one question 

- Your entire day disappears in front of you 

- Laptops and books are closed and long forgotten 

- And instead you talk about music and movies 

- Books and plays 

- Characters that you love and hate 

- And the fact that her favourite character is the one you hate the most 

- She makes you lunch while you debate between movies and books and which adaptations are good

- And which ones should never have been made

- And you clean up and apologise profusely after a stray cushion (possibly thrown by you) ends up knocking the pan over 

- Surprisingly 

- She finds it quite funny 

- And you let out a relieved sigh

- Soon the sun goes down on another day 

- And you’ve barely written two paragraphs done between you

- ‘do you want to stay?’ she asks while your putting your jacket on

- If she’d asked you that this morning 

- You would have thought she had lost it 

- But now it feels almost inevitable 

- And you feel genuinely lucky to be asked 

- Not many people get to know Maeve 

- The real her 

- And that last person she told all of this to broke her heart 

- Very publicly 

- And she told herself she would never let herself be that vulnerable with someone ever again

- But this just feels right 

- For some reason you feel right 

- She feels safe with you 

- And part of her hates herself for it 

- But then again 

- She hates herself for not getting to know you sooner

- She feels far too attached to you 

- And it’s barely been twelve hours 

- You of course agree to stay 

- Shocking yourself and her 

- And while she sorts to sofa out 

- You excuse yourself to the bathroom 

- Under the pretences of telling your parents where you are 

- It takes two seconds to text them 

- And the other 28 to ask yourself 

- What the fuck are you doing? 

- Why are you agreeing to this? 

- Why do you feel like this? 

- What are you feeling?

- Who knows?

- Not you 

- Great 

- Now you’ve been in the bathroom for a suspicious amount of time 

- Just get it together, Y/n

- It’s just a study sleepover 

- Maeve gives you a questioning look as you leave 

- ‘you know how mums are. always worrying about where you are and what you’re doing’ 

- ‘i wouldn’t actually’ she shrugs and your eyes widen 

- ‘oh shit, sorry. i’m so sorry. god, i’m an idiot.’

- ‘it’s fine’ she forces a laugh and you wince. ‘i got you an extra duvet and little women is ready to watch so i can show you that the book is better’ 

- ‘that’s not what i said and you know it’ 

- ‘i’m sorry. i can’t hear you over the sound of me being 100% right and you being 100% wrong.’ 

- ‘you may be good at english, but you suck at maths’ 

- The next day you wake up to the sun shining through the curtains 

- And a clump of Maeve’s hair in your mouth 

- You splutter and cough and wake her up quickly 

- And she jumps away from you and smacks her head of the table 

- The two of you ended up moving the blankets to the floor while watching Pride and Prejudice 

- And neither of you bothered to move back 

- Maeve yawns and scratches her head

- Exposing a small part of her stomach and you feel yourself become a little breathless 

- ‘are you okay?’ 

- ‘ye-yeah’ you nod and she eyes you suspiciously 

- ‘whatever’ she shrugs and starts making breakfast 

- You watch as she pours to bowls of cereal

- Giving you the last of the milk 

- And for a second you’re a little worried as to how she knew you liked it 

- But then you remember that she also likes it and you had a whole discussion about the best and worst types of cereal at 2am 

- And half way through breakfast 

- You remember the original reason you’re here 

- And both of you curse loudly 

- Before rushing to finish eating 

-You get half way through your project 

- When Maeve asks if you want to go out for a bit 

- And well 

- She doesn’t need to ask you twice 

- And by the time you come back 

- The feeling you had last night returns 

- And has settled in your stomach 

- For the foreseeable future it seems 

- It makes you feel both light and heavy at the same time 

- And when you look at her 

- You feel dizzy 

- So you rush to finish the project 

- So you can go home and pretend nothing has changed 

- And yeah 

- With the need to leave 

- You get the rest of the assignment done fairly quickly 

- But you end up leaving feeling more confused about Maeve as you did when you started this 

- Maybe Miss Sands was right about a weekend project 

- Any longer and you would have gone insane trying to figure out whatever the hell this is 

- You just have to get through tomorrow and then you’ll be okay 

- Everything will go back to normal 

- You and Maeve can go back to being neutral to each other

- And you won’t have to deal with all of these confusing feelings that have decided to make an appearance for some reason 

- Wellll

- Turns out Miss Sands was wrong 

- A weekend is not enough time 

- And the first few presentations are awful 

- To put it nicely 

- So you spend the next week in a permanent confused state 

- Confused as to why you start looking for Maeve whenever you enter a room

- Confused as to why your heart skips a beat whenever you hear her laugh 

- Confused as to why you never want her stop talking in class 

- Even if the bell has rung and it’s lunch 

- Confused to why you keep looking for excuses to go over to see her 

- Despite your assignment being long done 

- And even more confused as to why you feel anxious when you’re waiting for her to answer the door

- The next Monday rolls around both painfully slowly and far too quickly 

- And while you wait for Ola and Danny to finish their presentation 

- Your hands shake with anxiety while your grip your papers 

- Maeve reaches over the table and gives them a reassuring squeeze 

- But it just makes them shake more and she slowly pulls back 

- Your turn can’t come quick enough 

- But then it’s over far too quickly 

- And you slump back down in your seat disappointed 

- Despite Miss Sands’ praise 

- Because it’s over 

- You no longer have an excuse to hang out with her 

- You never talked before 

- So why do you care about after 

- But there’s so much about her that you want to know

- Like the weird swan/moth hybrid 

- And the ugly plate that sits on top of the bookshelf 

- You want to be part of these stories 

- You want to be able to point to these things and say

- ‘yeah, i know exactly why that is special to you’ 

- You want to be the reason to add to this random collection of stuff 

- You want her to smile when she looks at them because they’ll remind her of you 

- You want her to smile when she looks at you 

- ‘y/n? are you okay?’ she asks making you jump 

- The classroom is now empty and you didn’t even notice the bell go 

- ‘ye-yeah’ you nod and grab your bag

- ‘are you sure?’ she grabs your arm forcing you turn around 

- ‘whats the weird swan thing on your coffee table?’ you ask and she furrows her eyebrows at you. ‘it’s just i saw it when i first came over and i really want to know the story behind it’ 

- ‘oh. aimee went through a pottery phase last year and that was the only thing she made that didn’t have a hole in it.’

- ‘and the plate?’ 

- ‘birthday present from my neighbours’ 

- ‘they got you a plate?’ 

- ‘yeah, they don’t have any kids’ 

- ‘clearly’ 

- Silence fills the room and you stare at the peeling posters behind her head 

- You can feel Maeve move closer to you and your breath hitches when she stops a few centimetres in front of you 

- She grabs your hand and squeezes it again 

- And your heartbeat increases 

- ‘y/n?’ 

- ‘yeah?’ 

- ‘i’m really, really confused right now. like more confused that i have ever been in my life. but what i do know, is that if i watch you walk out of that door without saying anything first, then i’d regret it for the rest of my life. i’ve only ever felt like this about boys before, but now i feel this and more about you and i have no idea where it’s come from or what i need to do, but i do know i need to tell you. because otherwise, it wouldn’t be fair for either of us’ she whispers and you stare at her wide eyed 

- ‘can i kiss you?’ she asks and you nod your head quickly 

- Slowly she leans in

- Her eye flutter closed and you follow 

- Your lips brush over hers 

- Her hands wrap around you waist to pull you close

- And then your lips connect 

- And you feel everything change 

- She kisses you slowly 

- And when you pull away you both feel breathless 

- Her cheeks are bright red 

- And there’s a shy smile playing on her lips as she looks at you bashfully

- And all of a sudden you feel really grateful for Miss Sands and her personal issues 

- Although you really hope they are resolved now 

- For your sake as well as hers

support my writing! if you want! 

[jamiedc-they-them]

One way ticket (Platonic)

Requested Imagine: An argument with your parents sends you to your best friend, and on a journey of self discovery. 

The door to your house swung open, and a tired you walked in through it. You closed the door, your back resting against it as you closed your eyes. Today had been a hard day, lots of studying and deadlines.

However, part of the weariness now came from being at home. It was something you weren’t exactly thrilled by.

 “Evening, dear.” Your mother called from the kitchen, your step father barely paying you any attention.

 “Hi, mum.” You greeted in return. She gave you a smile. If it was your old dad, he would’ve said something.

 But, they just had to fall out, didn’t they.

 In your room, filled with posters of films and large posters of book covers and your favourite characters, you sunk into your bed, back hitting it first and you exhaled. For once, a moment of peace.

 Your phone vibrated, and your reached for it. You saw the caller ID, and smiled.

 “Dickhead.” She greeted in her usual manner. You could practically hear the smile on the other end.

 “Maeve.” You weren’t as creative with the nicknames, but she didn’t care.

 “Tough day?” She asked, there was some softer part to her tone there.

 You let out a breath, “In a way.” Was your cryptic answer.

 It wasn’t, however, cryptic to her, “Parents again?”

 “They haven’t done anything yet.”

 “That ‘yet’ is the concerning part, Y/N,” As she spoke, you heard the door to her home unlock. She was home too, “If they’re giving you any trouble, you call me, ok? Spend the night at mine. Nothing wrong with taking a break. Or just walking away” She assured you as you heard her keys hit the counter.

 You always were a bit envious of your best friend, how carefree she was. If only your father didn’t cheat, maybe the month long that turned into a forever long break wouldn’t have happened.

 “Yeah, he was a bit of a prick for doing that, wasn’t he?” Maeve’s voice was softer still when she spoke. Seemed you said some parts of that out loud.

 You paused, hearing call up to you from downstairs, “That’s dinner. I’ll call you later.”

 There was silence, she must’ve nodded and then remembered she was on the phone, “Yeah, sure thing.”

“So, son, how was school?” Internally, you cringed at the misgender, but didn’t correct your father. More importantly, neither did your mother. They had made their voices known on that want of yours, to go by something else, something they called a “none entity.”

 “Good, yeah, thanks.” You answered, going back to your food.

 “That it?” He asked, making you look up at him.

 “Is what it?” It wasn’t meant to be a challenge.

 He took it as one, though, staring you down as he spoke, “Was school just, ‘good’?”

 “Yeah, I mean nothing really happened, mum can attest to that.” You answered, trying to be careful with your word choice. Your father’s choice of words explaining his action was what caused the break.

 He looked to his wife, and she nodded, confirming it.

 “You been hanging around with your friends?” You nodded, “They still…preferring to go by the plurals?” Again, you nodded, “Youth of today, doomed, I swear.”

 “Because you don’t like a pronouns?” Ok, you shouldn’t have said that, and you immediately regretted it right after as there was a pause. It was sharp, and it was a direct pause.

 Your father stopped eating and looked to you, “Excuse me?”

 “I’m sorry, I –” You started to apologise. But you knew you had crossed a line.

 You were in your room the next moment, having ran up there yourself to escape your fathers growing wrath.

 You found your phone, dialling the number you needed instantly, “Maeve – I… I don’t –“

 “What’s happened? Are you safe?” Was the first thing your friend asked, concern leaking through the phone.

 “I don’t – I…I think Mum’s calming him down. But--”

 “You know the bridge?” You nodded, and Maeve seemed to know that you had nodded, “Meet me there.”

 “What?”

 “Meet me there.”

 “Can…can I stay the night?” You asked. You heard her door open and close, and her breathing became more laboured as she walked.

 “Of course you can.” She answered.

 “Ok, bridge, right?”

 “Bridge.”

“Ok, see you there.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You had nothing with you, just yourself. You didn’t even have a jacket. You were still in your school clothes, but the night was cold.

 Maeve was there, just as she said she would be. When you saw her, she was smoking, but eyes were scanning the water.

 She heard you approaching, and turned to you. Her eyes softened at your figure. You probably looked lonely, and you looked anxious. You were.

 She approached you when you stopped, bringing your timid figure into a hug. She didn’t say anything, she just held you.

 You appreciated it massively, how she didn’t say anything, just hugged you.

 It lasted a few seconds, but when she released you, you were teary eyed. You were scared, but you weren’t alone. You were scared still.

 She gave you a sympathetic smile, “Let’s go home.” She said, arm looping into yours and bringing you with her to her home. Yours was behind you, not too far away.

 Unlocking the door, she opened it up and ushered you in, closing the door behind the door and flicking on the light and taking off her jacket.

 “Do you want something to eat?” She seemed to just know without ever being told the circumstance you were in. It made you feel for your friend, wondering how she was able to just know what you had gone through.

 She grabbed a spare plate, filling it with the Chinese food she had picked up on the way home.

Together, you both sat on the couch, eating in silence. She didn’t seem to mind, but she did curl up, feet touching your own.

 “Thank you,” She looked to you at your words, “For this, I mean. Thank you.”

 She smiled, “Anytime. I know what it’s like to have shitty parents.” She said, despite the attempt of humour, you detected the sadness that was there.

 “Sorry.”

 She shook her head, “You have nothing to be sorry for.” She told you. You both went back to eating, but she did grab a blanket for you both.

 When you were done, you just started venting. You didn’t even mean to, it just all started to spill out. The whole time, she did not speak, she only let you talk and vent and rage about it all.

 There were tears, your own tears as you spoke. Maeve passed you a new tissue every so often as you spoke.

 “I’m sorry, Y/N. I really am. You can stay here as long as you –”

 “It’ll just be for tonight, I’ll go back tomorrow.” She looked like she wanted to say something, but nodded in granting and respecting your wish.

 “You can have the bed.” She said, and your eyes met her’s in an instant.

 “No, Maeve –”

 She held up a hand to stop you, “I’m not arguing about this, Y/N. I don’t mind you going back tomorrow, but if you’re staying, then you take the bed.”

 “…Why?”

 She rolled her eyes, “Because I know how to be comfy on that sofa. Besides, can’t have my best mate here and have them be uncomfortable, can I?”

 You resigned yourself to your fate, going to the bedroom, but not before you both shared another hug.

 As you went to bed, you saw a piece of paper on the floor. Picking it up, it was a form to be a guardian, but the name was blank as to who it was. So, you just left it.

 You woke up in your school clothes, you hadn’t exactly had time to change. But ‘school clothes’ you were wearing a smarter shirt than usual and some jeans.

 Maeve entered your room, toothbrush in her mouth, “Morning.” She said, even if it wasn’t as clear as it could’ve been, what with the toothbrush and all.

 “Morning.” You said in return, getting out of bed.

 She spat into the sink, before leaning against the doorway, “You can borrow some of my clothes. I’ll make sure they aren’t too embarrassing.” She said, lightly, before going to the drawer to find just that.

 “Might as well go out, right?” You joked, referencing to the opinion your parents had on your identity.

 She laughed, “If you’re up for it.”

 “Mum will say what she says, but I can’t let her define me, try and make her understand it.”

 Maeve just nodded, but there was some conflict there.

 Your mother worked at school, she was a science teacher – it was where her view on your identity came from.

 You had her today on the schedule, you liked science enough, but you knew this would be an…awkward session.

 Maeve had walked with you. She had called Aimee and told her she would be with you today, and the other woman understood, giving you her love. So, arm looped in yours, Maeve and you entered school.

 “First period, you ready?” She asked, putting her head on your shoulder for a moment as you continued going down the hallway to the lesson. You ignored the looks from people in the hallway. Otis had his mother to contend with, now so did you.

 “As I can be.” You answered honestly. As you got the doorway, she gave you a wink, before she went in first. After a few moments, so did you.

 It was to make your mother think anything other than the fact that you had gone to Maeve for help.

 As you went to your seat, you felt your mother’s eyes on you the whole way. When she went back to teaching, you saw that she had a slight darkness under her eyes. She had stayed up. A feeling stirred in your stomach. However, you went back to looking at the lesson.

 You did pay attention, just not all the time. Sometimes, you’d find yourself writing notes or just looking them up yourself in the textbook, just to avoid looking at your mothers gaze.

 However, as the bell rang, you were one of the last to leave. The other, was Maeve. She sat on the desk, legs swinging as she looked between yourself and your mum.

 She never hated your mum, or your dad. They had their flaws, but it was mainly their apathy to who you wanted to be that pissed her off.

 Still, she didn’t voice it, which was something that was unusual for her.

 Your mother looked up at you as you put a book on her desk. You looked nervous, eyes darting a little, but you managed to get the words out, even throwing a bit of humour in with your tone.

 “Parlay?” Behind you, once she approached, Maeve smiled a bit, before it turned a little bit – just a little – more threatening to your mother, a warning.

 As stated before, she didn’t hate your mum, just hated the discomfort it caused you.

 “He’s not angry, not now anyway. If anything, a little impressed.” Your mother said. The little amount of praise, despite it being so little, stirred something within you.

 Maeve saw how your shoulders relaxed a little. How you seemed to almost not expect it, but be deeply appreciative of it at the same time. She made a mental note, and her smile became more sympathetic.

 “Talk about it at dinner?” You asked, your mother nodded.

 “Talk about it at dinner,” She said, standing up and packing her own bag to leave for the teachers lounge, “And I can finally meet this girlfriend of yours.” You sighed, seemed you wouldn’t be able to fully escape their ideas yet.

 As she left, you turned to Maeve with your eyebrows up, but a tired expression on your face.

 “Dinner?” She asked, light smile on your face.

You laughed, putting your hands to your face before moving them around and interlocking them at the back of your head, you smiled at your friend, “Dinner.” You confirmed.

 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 You had gone back to Maeve’s place without her. She had something to do with the clinic, which you understood and so she gave you her keys, telling you only to leave the door unlocked for her.

 So, it was just you, alone in the home. You actually looked around it now, seeing the little things, like how the cups were stacked neatly, how the plates had been washed. She took care of this place, she cared for it. It was a shithole, but she stayed and looked after it.

 If she stayed and managed to make this place work, maybe you had hope with your parents just yet.

 Your thoughts went back to them, your parents. Maybe you had been too hasty, maybe they’d just accept you back with open arms. Maybe, for once, they’d be sorry. You had stood up to your father, that was new.

 Maybe you’d still have a place to go.

 The door opened, and Maeve entered, she tossed her bag onto the sofa and took her jacket off, giving you a smile as she saw you getting a drink.

 “Sorry I took so long, Otis held me up.” She said, gently moving you aside and doing the same – getting a drink – for herself.

 “It’s alright, he’s a good guy but can…I don’t know.” You conceded, not really knowing how to explain your other friend – a mutual one of yours.

 “Much?” She filled, you nodded.

 “Please don’t make a scene tonight.” Your friend took a sip of her water and looked at you, almost a little taken aback by your words. You further explained, “I need to go well, Maeve, please. I can’t have it turn into another row. I can’t have another uncomfortable breakfast, again.”

 Maeve stopped you, “Wait, ‘again’? Your staying?!” She couldn’t stop the surprise that one.

 You cocked your head, “Course I am. Why wouldn’t I? They’re my parents –”

 “Not good ones.” She pointed out.

 “They aren’t the worst.”

 Again, she couldn’t help herself, “They aren’t exactly the best either,” She sighed, putting her glass down and approaching you, putting her hands on your shoulders, before using one hand to cup your chin and turn it up to face her, “You are so much better without them, Y/N. They don’t accept you for who you are. I’m sure in some way they love you, just like my mum did. But, you know what I did.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement, you did know what she had done.

 Part of you resented her for having the strength to do it. Still, you insisted, “I can’t just drop them like that, Maeve…How would I fund school? What about rent and –”

 “We’d figure it out –”

 Now it was you stopping her, or more so talking over her at her first word, “’We’?”

 She creased her eyebrows, “Yeah, ‘we’, you think I’d just leave you if you did it?” She almost seemed hurt at the accusation she was now accusing you of.

 “I just – I don’t think I can do that. I don’t even know how.” You confessed, voice sounding tired.

 “I do, I know how,” Maeve assured as she nodded a few times, “It’s called ‘emancipation’.”

 As she went to explain, the alarm on your phone went off. Looking at it, you saw it was a half hour reminder to get to your house for the dinner.

 “Just…please don’t mess this up for me…please.” Was all you asked of your best friend.

 Her eyes softened at the pain, the loss, and the fear that laid within them. She had more on her mind, more she wanted to say, you could see that clear as day. Still, she nodded, and said nothing.

 You stood outside your door with your best friend by your side. You had walked together in silence, both trying to prepare as much as you could for this event. The main thing you had said to the other being that you looked nice. You both did, you in your normal clothes, Maeve in a dress. She had even redone her makeup.

 You saw that hurt in her eye hadn’t fully left, but there was an almost apathetic look now. She was here to help you, not to appease your parents who she had plenty to say on.

 You knocked, the door opening and your father stood there in smart, but causal wear. Seemed he’d put some effort into it too. Out of the pair, your mother had the better job, but it didn’t matter. Job meant nothing to how you were as a person.

 He didn’t say anything, he only moved aside as a silent beckoning to enter. You both did so.

 Maeve took time to look around. She didn’t comment, just looked around. She then met your eyes, a bit of life returning and you saw them soften a little, she raised her eyebrows; “Fancy.” Her gaze seemed to communicate to you.

 You had no idea if she meant it or not, so you just smiled a thin one, trying not to show your nerves. Maeve, however, was good at reading people. So, as you went to the table in silence, she held your hand to provide some comfort.

 However, as you both sat at the table, you saw your mother had seen the hand holding in a different light. Of course she did.

 You saw her have a look on her eyes, almost a proud look. You felt Maeve tighten her hold on your hand, trying to supress a sense of frustration. It did pain you a little, but you tried not to show it. This was redemption with your parents, not a further regress.

 Still, she didn’t say anything, she remembered the promise she made. And Maeve Wiley was not one to break a promise…to the best of her ability.

 “So, you’re the mysterious Maeve we’ve been hearing all about?” Your mother asked as your father put food on the table. No, the irony was not lost on you.

 Maeve looked to you, a silent dialogue going between you two. However, your communication was clear, “I’ve never mention you to them.” She knew it wasn’t in a mean way, just wanted confirmation.

 She nodded, “Yeah, that’s me.” She said, bullshit smile on her face. The smile, however, eased your mother – hell, even doing the same to your father, for once he smiled and it was genuine.

 You envied it. But, as you put your hands on the table, Maeve held one. To your parents, it meant the opposite to what it actually was, she gave your hand a squeeze.

 “One step closer to being a man, my lad.” Your mother hadn’t been lying when she told you your father was proud. Christ.

 You looked at your father with the same distaste you always had for him, but now it was less easy to mask.

 So far, no food had been touched by anyone other than your mother.

 “See? Even got the look.” He seemed to celebrate your hatred. Not revel in it, just celebrate it.

 “’The look’?” You parroted back to him in a questioning manner.

 “Yeah, every man needs –”

 “Y/N doesn’t identify as a man, though.” Maeve spoke up. You moved your hands down to your side, keeping your eyes only on your best friend. You shook your head, begging her not to.

 She, however, only kept her eyes on your father, a challenging and daring look in her eyes, “Y/N is a they –”

 “Not this bollocks again. He got you doing it now, too.” Your father’s tone was filled with frustration.

 “Yeah, I guess they have, haven’t they?” Her eyes squinted a bit, she seemed to be daring for him to try it.

 “Let me guess, you two haven’t shagged either?” He sounded tired. Done.

 Wasn’t quite the bite Maeve was looking for, but she still took it, “Y/N doesn’t feel that way about anyone. They don’t won’t a partner in that way, and that’s just fine.”

 “It’s sick,” Your father looked to your mother, “Isn’t that right, honey?”

 She seemed to just be enjoying her food, but when your father asked, she hesitated. There were a few look in her eyes, fear wasn’t one of them, but shame was as she spoke, “Yes.” Her voice was monotone.

 “I think it’s time you leave.” Your father said, seemingly taking back control.

 However, Maeve stayed put, “Not without Y/N.” She was firm in that.

 “Get out, now, or I will call the police,” He then looked to you, “Is that why you brought her, to get it all out in the open these beliefs you have about yourself?” His tone was cold.

 “N-No.” You managed to stutter out.

 “If you lay one hand on them –”

 “Him, and I won’t. I’d never hit my boy, I just need it to get through to him that he can’t think the way he does.”

 “So, verbal then?”

 “If you want to be a snowflake, then yes, verbal.” He seemingly had no problem with saying that.

 So, Maeve stood up, and she gave you a pat on the shoulder and an apologetic look. Then, with a click of the door, she was gone.

 Silence permeated the room, and now your father had his hands on the table and his chin resting on them.

 “I don’t want you seeing her again.” Your father said, “Go to your room, I’ll bring some food up in a few minutes.”

 You didn’t say anything, only getting up from the table, “Phone.” Your father said. You brought the item out of your pocket and gave it to him, before going upstairs.

 You laid on your bed, closing your eyes and letting out a sigh. Could’ve gone better, but it definitely could’ve gone worse.

 You heard a knock at your door. You gave yourself a moment to try to get rid of the tears that were pooling in your eyes and told whoever was there to come in.

 It was your father, who was carrying a tray with a plate of food on. He placed it on the floor, before he stood at the door.

 “You know I just want what’s best for you, right?”

 It was bollocks, but you nodded, “It’s just…there are two ways of being. I’d rather you be Trans than be…this.” Harsh, but it was more honest, more controlled.

 Again, you nodded. You hated the words he said, but you nodded.

 “We’ll talk again, tomorrow.” He then left, closing the door more softly this time.

 You picked up the tray, apathetic look on your face as you ate the food. It wasn’t too bad, to be honest.

 This was your life, one filled with pain, but two parents that gave you a roof over your head.

 You heard a knock at your window, turning, you saw the last person you expected to see. It was the face of someone else who gave you a roof over your head.

 She waved to you. You put your empty plate down and looked to the door. He never did say you couldn’t leave. Then again, he also said you couldn’t be how you felt inside. So, you know.

 Quietly, you made your way to the window, opening it with her help. Neither of you spoke, but she didn’t need to, she only offered you a hand – and a silent question along with it.

 You looked to the door one more time, one that – outside of it – held only misery.

 You took the hand that was offered.

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She held your hand the whole way home, leading the way. However, this time you worked with – an admittedly – shaky confidence.

 She opened the door, going to her bed room to get her dress off. You, meanwhile, got a glass of water and sat down. You knew your dad still had your phone, but that was ok.

 Maeve re-entered, now with pyjamas on, “What’s on your mind?” She asked, seeing a look on your face that told her you had a plan.

 “Mum’s gonna be at school tomorrow. But, I’ve made my choice, I’m done with them. We just need to do that…what’d you call it, ‘emancipation?’”

 Maeve nodded, “Ok, we’ll need some papers for the court. Plus, I have this,” At ‘this’ Maeve held up her phone and hit ‘play’ it was a recording of the meal.

 It was proof.

 “Ok, you got my back?” You asked.

 “Always.” She swore.

 So, off to school you went to execute your plan. You walked to the school grounds, talking and – for once, in your case – being happy and having a sense of agency.

 You had made your request to the court and made some calls to friends, now you just had to hope your parents wouldn’t try and stop it.

 “Otis and everyone else agreed? Just like that?” You asked, only having spoken to Eric while Maeve called everyone else.

 “A noble cause worth fighting for.” She said with a smile, parroting your own one.

 You believed those words, and you believed in your own course too, you believed in your own freedom.

 Going to science, you saw your other friends now sat there, awaiting you. It started out as normal, just with you in a more positive beat.

 That was, until the bell rang and your mother asked you to stay behind. Without having to ask, your other friend stayed as well.

 “So, you’re applying for emancipation?” She asked, tone flat.

 “That’s right.” You answered, sure of your choice.

 “You know we’ll fight it, right? There’s no way you can take care of yourself out there. You can barely handle us. Besides, who else is going to take care of you?”

 You felt a presence next to you, it was Maeve. However, you felt the others behind you.

 “They will.” You said, standing strong, “And, yes, it’ll cost us, but we’ll fight it. Because it’s worth it. You were toxic to me, mum. And, I think I deserve better.”

 With that, you and your new family walked out.

  It had been a long battle, one filled with ups and downs, but the others stood by you, chipping in however they could.

 Plus, Maeve found herself with a new sibling, so that was something. It felt nice, to be validated, to have your pronouns respected and your thoughts taken on board.

 As you returned home from school one day, Maeve had left a bit earlier. You opened the door, going in and throwing your bag to the floor and laying on the couch, “Good day?” She asked, stirring the coffee she had made.

 You looked to her with a smile, “Yeah, good day.” You confirmed.

[hiinnys]

i buried a hatchet (it’s coming up lavender)

(hello! it’s been a minute! sorry, i’ve unfortunately been trapped under work’s capitalist foot!! but how are yall? MAJOR happy birthday to harry james! thank you for being my comfort character <3 anyways, hope you enjoy harry’s little 22nd party, which is also on ao3!) 

the planning starts in may. it’s nearly three months early, but may brings bad memories molly’s always tried to avoid. it’s a simple question about cake flavors pointed at harry and ginny, their birthdays always planned in tandem, but harry freezes nonetheless. it’s nothing anyone would notice, but ginny does because she’s ginny and harry’s always been what she’s good at. so when they’re alone later and she asks about it, he’s not surprised.

“it’s stupid,” he says, shaking his head in that way he does that makes him seem so small ginny’s heart aches.

“harry,” she pushes this one, feels like she has to.  

“it’s just…i’m twenty-two this year, aren’t i?”

“yeah?”

“i’m always gonna be older than them now,” he almost whispers, like it’s a crime to even speak aloud. he sits down on the bed just then. the bed in his flat that he’s been too scared to ask her to share with him. he wonders briefly if his dad was ever as scared to ask his mum something so easy; wonders if his dad ever got the chance to be, or if that was just another thing war took away from him.

“harry,” she sits next to him, body angled towards him so her legs are pushed up against his side. “talk to me.”

it’s a simple request; ginny’s like that, takes only the smallest pieces of him because she thinks everyone else takes too much. he wants to tell her that she can take as much as she wants, it’s all hers anyways, but he doesn’t know how, so he settles for giving her what she’s asked of him.

“it feels…wrong, i guess, to celebrate it,” he sighs, tries to quell the storm in his chest, in his head (doesn’t succeed). “it feels like i’m celebrating their deaths.”

she’s silent for a moment, like she’s thinking it all through, weighing the merits of what he’s said, and he can’t quite express how grateful he is that she gives him this - her respect, her thoughtfulness, her whole self, each and every time.

“i get it,” she finally says. “but you can’t live the rest of your life avoiding your birthday. i think you’ve already missed too many in your parents’ books.”

he knows she’s right, thinks about his years with the dursleys, about how he didn’t even know his birthday until he was five and a teacher at primary told him. he nods his head.

“but-,” he starts.

“just not this one,” she finishes. “yeah, i get it.”

the next time they’re at the burrow, ginny casually mentions that she’s actually surprised harry with a weekend trip for his birthday, seeing as he never takes time off otherwise, and if the family would like, they could do a joint cake at ginny’s birthday dinner.

***

she actually does surprise him with a trip, something that he wasn’t expecting, but she suggests they bring teddy along and harry reckons the kid’s due for a holiday. she doesn’t tell him where they’re going to start, just piles the three of them in harry’s car and tells him to drive (she’s yet to pass her driver’s test, but ginny’s one of the few people who genuinely enjoys the tube so she’s not in any rush).

it’s when they’re less than halfway there that harry realizes she has them set out for shell cottage.

“really? you thought bringing me to your brother’s place would be a nice birthday surprise?”

“first of all, you said yourself we aren’t celebrating your birthday, and, second, bill and fleur aren’t home. they’re in france, so i asked if we could borrow the place for the weekend and they said yes.”

“fair enough.”

***

teddy’s antsy for the water as soon as he sees it, so they only go as far as throwing their stuff in the sitting room before taking him down to the shoreline. he splashes happily through the calm water, and his clothes are soaked to the brim, but his laughter fills the air, so harry lets it be.

“harry!” the five year-old shouts, holding up a distinctly purple piece of coral. “look! pretty!”

“you wanna take it with you?”

“YES!” he screams, eyes wide with glee, and harry can’t help the rush of love for his godson. he exaggerates tucking the coral into his pocket when teddy hands it to him, just to affirm ted’s desire to keep it safe. when he turns around, ginny’s smiling at them from her place on a rock, jeans pushed up to her knees, feet in the water and red hair blowing in the wind, and harry finally feels peace settle into his heart.

***

the rest of the day passes rather quietly. when they finally make it in from the beach, the day catches up with teddy, leaving him exhausted and irate, so harry gives him a quick bath and settles the boy in for a small nap. when he gets back down, ginny’s changed and sits on a bar stool in the kitchen, picking at the last of the snack plate harry had made earlier in lieu of a proper lunch.

“hungry?” harry asks and, at her nod of affirmation, starts looking through the fridge to figure out what dinner can be. they sit in an easy silence for a bit, harry washing and cutting vegetables and ginny watching. over the years, he’s learned she likes to watch him cook, and though the reason for it doesn’t make too much sense to him, he likes having her there, so he’s never questioned it much.

“thank you for this,” he finally says.

“for what?”

“bringing us here. i’ve been in my head about it all too much, i think. the whole twenty-two thing. it’s nice to not have to think about it for a bit.”

she studies him for a minute, like she’s trying to look right at the core of him, so he puts down the knife he’s been using to chop the vegetables and gives her all of himself.

“you never have to thank me,” she says after a minute.

“i know.”

***

teddy “helps” harry clean up after dinner that night, which really just means that ted sits on the counter next to the kitchen sink and rattles on about something or the other while harry does the dishes. every now and then, harry blows some soap bubbles on the boy and basks in the glow of the laughter it brings out of him.

an hour later (and well past his bedtime), harry finally manages to get teddy to stay beneath the sheets, but it’s only when ginny reads him babbity rabbity twice and swears on her life that they’ll go back down to the water tomorrow that teddy settles in for the night.

“harry!” he whispers as harry’s switching off the light.

“yeah, mate,” harry stage-whispers back, his eyebrows raised for ginny’s amusement.

“happy birthday!” teddy murmurs tiredly.

“that’s tomorrow, mate.”

“still,” the boy whines.

“thanks, ted,” harry responds, gentle smile on his face.

when they finally make it into their room, harry places a quick silencing charm on the door. at ginny’s raised brow, he says, rather simply:

“for good measure.”

ginny snorts.

they’re silent as they get ready for bed, and harry lets himself sink deep into the warmth of it. they don’t get this too often, the pair of them; ginny’s spot in the harpies takes her across the world and, when harry’s not in some obscure town somewhere tracking some homicidal maniac or the other, kingsley has him on diplomatic missions across the continent. it grates at harry sometimes, how little he gets to be with his girlfriend, but ginny has games to play and championships to win and harry has people to catch and (every now and then) laws to change, and neither has any desire to stop anytime soon so they live with it. in his opinion, they’re pretty good at it. they know their limits. they carve time out for each other, always. harry makes it to all the big games, the ones she’s nervous about. ginny makes it to every stupid ceremony and the endless galas that make harry want to claw his eyes out. she keeps him going; he keeps her sane, and the rest they take as it comes, together. always together.

“harry,” her voice, light as the sun, breaks him out of his reverie. “where’d you go?”

“sorry,” he whispers back. “just in my head a bit.”

“that’s okay. it’s a nice head.”

“it’s a nice head?” he grins at her, knowing she’s caught. ginny rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile on her face, and when she’s done feigning her annoyance, she pulls him in for a kiss. it’s calm and confident and everything that is ginny and when they fuck, they look into each other’s eyes the entire time, and he’s reminded, with each thrust, of just how much he loves her.

***

when he wakes up, the room’s dark, the spot next to him is empty, and he can hear voices coming from below. his heart clenches for a minute, a piece of the war he’ll never be able to let go of, but it eases when he sees ginny’s wand, still on the table, still next to his.

he gets out of bed silently (mentally thanking his auror training) and makes the short walk down the hallway towards the stairs when he sees teddy’s door open too. before he has the chance to panic this time, though, he hears the boy’s laugh followed by ginny’s own giggle. there’s a smile on his face now that he knows ginny would tease him about if she could see it, but he honestly can’t help it. not when he’s in this house, full of a warmth that he’s finally, blessedly, allowed to be a part of. he spots them in the kitchen, but from their angle, he knows they can’t see him. ginny’s leaning against the counter, mixing something in a rather large bowl, while teddy’s sitting on the counter next to her, weirdly, waving a strawberry in the air.

“we gotta put it in!” he whispers, in the way five year-olds do, which isn’t much of a whisper at all. “harry loves strawberries!”

“strawberries in a birthday cake? i’m afraid you may be a genius, ted,” ginny announces in a quiet voice, while harry’s eyes fill with unshed tears. he stays glued to the spot for a bit longer, knowing somewhere in the back of his mind that he’s ruining their surprise, but not being able to turn away from his family. eventually though, he does. he climbs, silently, back up the stairs and slips back into his and ginny’s bed. when he falls back asleep, it’s with the ghost of a smile on his face and a feeling he doesn’t think he’s known until this moment.

***

he’s woken up in the morning by teddy trying to pull his arm off.

“wha-”

“come on,” the boy whines. “it’s breakfast!”

at that, harry wakes up instantly, feeling the guilt wash over him at the idea of leaving teddy without food. it’s only then that he smells the coffee in the air and realizes that ginny isn’t next to him. he breathes just then, quickly realizing that teddy isn’t hungry; he just wants harry awake.

“sorry, mate,” harry smiles at him guiltily, voice a bit rough with sleep. he lets ted drag him down stairs, the boy practically bouncing the entire way down. when they get to the kitchen, he’s met with ginny - long hair in a knot atop her head, eyes still a little sleep tired - grinning around a piece of toast.

“morning,” she smiles up at him and he gives her a lopsided grin in return.

“ginny, ginny, ginny,” teddy bounces next to her. “we’ve gotta do it now!” he whispers.

“we should probably let him eat first,” ginny whispers back.

“no! we gotta do it now!”

“alright, alright,” she responds. “harry,” she gestures to a seat, which harry takes, brows furrowed though he thinks he knows what’s coming. sure enough, ginny and teddy disappear for a few seconds, then come back with a slightly lopsided cake adorned in strawberries, a single candle lit in the middle. he beams the minute he sees them, which turns into an all out laugh the minute teddy starts up his rendition of ‘happy birthday’ which usually involves a lot of lyrics that never stay the same and none of them ever know. when ted’s done, ginny tells him to make a wish and harry asks teddy for help blowing out the candle.

they skip actual breakfast, choosing to tuck into the cake first. it’s sickly sweet and makes teddy smile from ear to ear, frosting covering his cheeks.

“like it, mate,” harry bemusedly asks. all teddy manages is a quick nod between bites, and harry knows he’ll regret letting the kid have two slices later on. but that’s later and this is right now and right now, he’s sat at a table with the two people he loves most in the world, eating a cake they made for him. right now, he’s celebrating - in his own, admittedly, small way -  a birthday his parents’ never got to. right now, he’s doing everything they wanted for themselves and him. right now (and everyday after), he’s their son, the same as he’s always been, keeping them alive with every breath he breathes, every birthday he celebrates. right now, he’s sat with the woman he loves, laughing as he watches his godson attempt to fit an entire strawberry in his mouth, so completely and ridiculously happy.

happy birthday, ginny mouths from over teddy’s head. harry smiles easily at her, love shining through his eyes, lighter than he’s ever been.