#this is not the first. not the second. not even the fifth time I’ve seen it.

[indigovigilance]

Maggie is Possessed

This is my second meta! My first one is here.

I’m not the first fan to be suspicious of Maggie but I’m going to argue why she might be possessed (and I hypothesize that specifically she is possessed by an angel), rather than being eldritch herself, and will propose some reasons why the hitchhiker might be doing this.

First, a quick list of her early observable behaviors:

She cannot spell urgency

She signs “very faithfully yours”

She refuses to drink alcohol

Golden angel-wing earrings, anyone?

Have you seen those clothes?

All of those things are angelic, but why possession, specifically? Evidence is presented in order of chronology and not necessarily how strong it is, below the cut:

First: The timeline is weird. She’s eight months behind on rent, and suddenly decides she needs to speak to Mr. Fell “on a matter of some ugrency” and insists she can be out by next week. It’s inconsistent behavior that could indicate that a new decision-maker has taken over. First-point-five, she calls Aziraphale an angel: does she know?

Second: re-watch the first coffee shop scene, S2E1 at 13:20. Yes yes, it reads like a cute lesbian flirtation scene. That’s the cowrie shell. Pick it up. There’s a caraway seed underneath. When she arrives at the coffee shop for the first time, Maggie’s confused “ah, yes, coffee” might not be the flustered redirect you thought it was, but rather indicating that whoever is riding around in that body doesn’t actually know how a coffee shop works. But Nina (to Hitchhiker!Maggie’s relief) remembers her order. So Human!Maggie has been here before, in fact, Nina calls her a regular, to which Hitchhiker!Maggie says “oh right, yes, I’m that.” Not sus at all, sister.

Third: During the “herbal tea” exchange, Maggie says to Nina that “I didn’t go to parties” and she was “not that sort of teenager.” On it’s face it reads like she was a goody-two-shoes human teenager, but consider for a moment that whoever is speaking right now was never human; the statement isn’t a lie, but its very misleading. Who else do we know that does that?

Fourth: During the lock-in, Maggie tells the story of how her great grandmother’s store was in a corner of Mr. Fell’s bookshop, so he lets them stay on for old time’s sake. One possible interpretation of this phrasing is that Hitchhiker!Maggie knows that Aziraphale has owned that shop continuously for at least 100 years. Nina is the one that suggests that it was actually Aziraphale’s grandfather, and Maggie nods along.

Fifth: Maggie says it’s a “coincidence” that the power goes in and out when Crowley passes by; could read as a deliberate redirect from someone who actually knows that Crowley is a demon? But more on that later.

Sixth: I’m skipping a lot of intervening content BUT at the ball, during the dance, she says “this is just what we do, isn’t it?” to which Nina emphatically replies that no, it isn’t. So even though Nina has been effected by an emotion-suppressing aura, she hasn’t lost her memory of how society generally works in 2023, but somehow Maggie isn’t up to date. This is parallel to Point #2, not knowing how to order coffee.

Seventh: Aziraphale’s attempted miracle memory wipe doesn’t work on her. I’ve seen others suggest that it’s due to a miracle blocker but all of his other miracles work, so…

Eighth: Nina calls her “angel.” You thought it was cute. It’s not. It’s a double-bluff. She’s actually an angel.

Ninth: She tells Crowley that “we’re real people.” Okay, human police officer Inspector Constable, whatever you say.

The rest of this is wild speculation. Abandon hope all ye who read below the fold.

So of course this raises the question: why are is the hitchhiker here, and what was Human!Maggie’s motivation to give them permission to hitchhike?

I’ll start with Human!Maggie’s motivation. I believe that she is not just pretendy-good but a properly good person who feels a lot of anguish about her failing business, one that’s been in the family for 100 years, and guilt for not paying her rent. I think she prayed for help, and a “guardian angel” answered her prayers, and she gave that angel permission to possess her and fix the problem.

As for why the angel answered her prayers, I propose that the Metatron sent them to fuck around with Aziraphale. My evidence is that Maggie frequently meddles to Aziraphale’s detriment. In chronological order:

She puts him in a moral choice position: if he evicts her, he’s the bad guy. If he forgives her rent, he’s done something good. Both of these can be leveraged by the Metatron. Notably, after he forgives the rent, Maggie calls him an angel, perhaps to remind him whose side he’s really on *wink wink nudge nudge.*

She confides in her landlord about her crush on the business owner across the street, who’s already in a relationship?! How ridiculously inappropriate?? Maggie??!! But she does, and plants the idea in his head about love, which ultimately becomes the runaway train that makes him extremely vulnerable later.

She refuses to leave the shop during the attack (S2E5), I propose is for purposes of fucking over Aziraphale, as evidenced by…

For this part, I need you to go back and watch it. S2E6 at 3:28. During the pissing contest at the threshold, Maggie turns her head away, there is a sound effect, and that’s when she turns back to Shax and invites the demons in. Hitchhiker!Maggie has taken over and rolled out the carpet for the enemy invasion.

Maggie is the instigator of the “you have to talk about your feelings” conversation, dragging Nina from behind the counter across the street while she has a shop full of customers. Considering that the Metatron is at that very moment at the French restaurant next door, making a job offer to Aziraphale, the timing choice seems very suspect. Almost as if they coordinated to talk to each husband while they were separated.

So, it is possible that Hitchhiker!Maggie was sent by the Metatron as a spy and a saboteur to meddle with Aziraphale. To what end, specifically? Probably to get him to break up with Crowley and/or get him to return to Heaven, but ultimately, I just don’t know. I will admit that I don’t have a very strong conviction that this will become canon, but it was fun to write and I hope that it was fun to read! Leave a note if you enjoyed it!

edit: a link to another meta about why this was such an effective strategy against the husbands

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #maggie #ivoc

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

Some things I’ve noticed on my second viewing of “Five Nights at Freddy’s” (2023)

(Some of these are obvious, don’t @ me, I’m autistic and I had work the day I first watched the film so my brain was all over the place)

Once again, SPOILERS ARE UNDER THE CUT, PLEASE DONT READ IF YOU ARE AVOIDING SPOILERS!!!!

On my first viewing I thought that showing the security guard at the very start loosening the bolts of the chair straps was a fake out to make us believe he’d escape, but actually he loosened the bolts which is how Mike was able to escape later on

Just want to say that the opening credits are fucking cool and I love them so much

In my previous post about things in the FNAF movie, I incorrectly said there was no Golden Freddy - Golden Freddy is in fact in the film, he’s the one who goes to the house/kills Aunt Jane/is in the taxi

Following on from the above point, I said last time that I thought the cupcake was the fifth ghost child but I actually think it’s Golden Freddy to be honest - the blonde girl was obviously Chica, the boy with the bunny ears was Bonnie, the ginger boy was Foxy, and then there was the blonde boy and another boy with a top hat on. I originally thought that the blonde boy who wore the brown shirt was Freddy because he seemed like the leader, but now I’m wondering if the boy with the top hat was Freddy and the leader boy was in fact Golden Freddy (given his blonde hair)? I’m interested to hear what everyone else thinks

This is obvious but the doctor foreshadowed the ending because she told Mike that drawings are powerful tools for children to express things and understand things, and that’s exactly how Abby communicated to the gang at the end that Afton was responsible for their deaths

^side note but as an early years practitioner at a nursery/for preschool children, it’s actually true that pictures are used to help children learn things even before they can read, write or talk. I don’t know, it just interested me to be like “oh yeah that’s true!!”

There was not that much focus on Mike’s dad, like he was seen so briefly compared to his mom, which makes me wonder if there’s something to it that might be revealed in a future film. Like maybe his “dad” isn’t his dad or something? Because in the game canon, William is his father, so… I don’t know. I also saw someone else point out that in the training video Mike watched, there was a man working on the animatronics who maybe looked like the actor playing Mike’s dad, so maybe his dad worked there with the animatronics?

The film appears to be set in 2000; I’m 90% sure the security cam of Mike in the careers office showed the date as being in 2000, but if someone else can clarify or confirm the exact date then that would be great. It would make sense though because Garret presumably went missing around the same time as the ghost kids (in the 80s), so the film being set in the present day (meaning Mike would be in his 50s) would make zero sense. Also the mobile phones/computers all seem like they come from the early 2000s

Someone on Twitter pointed out that one of Abby’s drawings on her wall appeared to be a red airplane, which could just be an indication/foreshadowing of her knowledge of Garret’s disappearance (his toy airplane) but also someone else said it could have been 9/11 which….?!?! If this film is set in 2000, then that’s FUCKED

(I think it’s either a random drawing or to do with Garret’s toy tbh but the idea of her having foresight of 9/11 is fucking horrifying)

I’m still not totally sure which animatronic the gang were going to force Abby into, like it’s one with spring locks and at first I thought it might be Circus Baby but it doesn’t really look like her. It looks almost like a marionette or something? And I mean, yeah, it could be that they changed the design a bit but they literally stayed faithful to the designs of all the animatronics in the series so… you know.

Desperate to know if Matthew Lillard is aware of the fact that his DILF status has been multiplied by one hundred after this film like can someone check in on him and see if he’s alright? 💀 the FNAF girlies fans are frankly RABID about Afton

On that note, I wonder if Josh Hutcherson or Matthew Lillard have ever played any FNAF games, like were they fans before being cast or…? I really wish we could have content of them talking about the film or promoting it, but Hollywood refuses to pay their actors fairly so 🤷‍♀️

Listen, I ADORE both Josh and Matthew anyway but in this film I feel like Matthew especially stood out??? Maybe it’s just the character he’s playing but he ATE this role up (so did Josh but still)

I feel like the springlock scene was actually more terrifying upon a second viewing like at my first one I was like “that’s not as bad as I imagined” but this time I was like “holy shit he’s in agony” like his screams were PAINFUL to listen to

Speaking of painful to listen to, Freddy gave this really guttural and pained roar/scream at one point during the ending and it really made my heart hurt, it’s like the child inside of him was reliving the memory of their murder or something??? I can’t describe it but it was such an intense moment

I honest to god feel like I enjoyed it more on a second viewing and I don’t know why??? Maybe it’s just because the other people in my cinema weren’t laughing every five minutes but still.

I now have the urge to rewatch ALL of Markiplier’s playthroughs of ALL the FNAF games so… yep!

Once again begging for people to talk about FNAF because I’m not the most knowledgable on the series but I do enjoy it!

#fnaf #five nights at freddy’s #fnaf movie #fnaf movie spoilers #freddy fazbear #bonnie the bunny #chica the chicken #foxy the fox #springtrap #mike schmidt #abby schmidt #william afton #matthew lillard #josh hutcherson

[crowfanity]

Some more text post memes!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

(ID under cut)

[ID: A series of ten text post memes with Ace Attorney character sprites

The first image is a twitter post with Miles Edgeworth looking smug. The tweet reads “proud to announce that i am making a Bad decision but I’m not telling y’all what it is so u can’t stop me”.

The second image is of a tumblr post. An anon with Athena Cykes’ angry sprite next to it asks “Have you ever met someone who you just weren’t able to bully?” Underneath it is Simon Blackquill’s sprite with a smirk next to the response “no. I’m a very unpleasant person”.

The third picture is of a joke article title that says “If You Want To Achieve Enlightenment, You’re Gonna Have To Go Through Me”. In the corner is a picture of Nahyuta Sahdmadhi with his hand up in meditation.

The fourth photo is a tumblr screenshot. It says “my flatmate has just rocked in with the two lesbianest lesbians I’ve ever seen and introduced them as “my sister and my sister’s... roommate”. Underneath it has Kay Faraday grinning on the left, and on the right is Ema Skye’s confident sprite from Investigations next to pictures of Lana Skye with a neutral expression and Mia Fey smiling with her arms crossed.

The fifth image is a twitter conversation. The first tweet has a picture of teenage Maya Fey looking solemn with her head tilted down a bit. The text reads “The realization that the switch is 5 years old and they’re probably gonna reveal their next console in a couple of years just hit me like a fucking truck”. Underneath that is a response saying “I used to go into hospitals and switched the babies around. You can’t do stuff like that anymore, too many cameras.” To the right of that comment is a picture of Zak Gramarye in his magician outfit with his hands on his hips and laughing.

The sixth picture is of a single twitter post. In the bottom right corner is a picture of Nahyuta Sahdmadhi smiling with his eyes closed. The tweet says “Back in Uni, a girl mocked my presentation one time so I searched for her group and asked the topic they were presenting on. I spent 4 days researching on it and asked her so many questions like it was common knowledge that she cried. Stay blessed precious one.”

The seventh picture is of a short Facebook conversation. The first names are censored but the two commenters have the same last name. The first post says “I’d kill my own brother to be in bed right now I don’t even care” with a smiling emoji at the end. To the lower right of the comment is a picture of Aura Blackquill smiling with her chin in her hand as she leans on an upset Clonco. To the left of the second comment is a sprite of Simon Blackquill glaring. The reply says “I’d like to see you try you silly cunt I’ll put you in the fucking ground”.

The eighth photo is of a Grindr conversation. The first message is on the right with a yellow text box and just says “hey” next to a sprite of trilogy Phoenix Wright smiling awkwardly and rubbing the back of his head. The next two messages are on the left and have blue text boxes next to a sprite of Larry Butz playfully rubbing the back of his head with his eyes closed and tongue sticking out. The messages from him read “Hey” “Just so you know I’m not gay or anything”. The next message is next to a sprite of Phoenix looking confused/annoyed and sweating. It says “this is grindr my guy”. The response is next to an image of Larry looking angry with his eyes closed, teeth clenched, and hands balled into fists. The message says “I guess people who are lactose intolerant can’t walk down the fucking dairy aisle? I’m just looking”.

The ninth image is of a single tweet. In the upper right is Athena Cykes’ thinking sprite as she touches her earring. In the bottom right is a sprite of Simon Blackquill looking up and away from the camera and frowning. The tweet reads “My uncle, the countriest guy I know, just said “I fuckin hate seeing chipmunks cause it means there ain’t no big cool birds around””.

The last photo is of a single tweet in a chat format. In the upper right is a picture of Wocky Kitaki with his arms crossed and smirking awkwardly while looking away, looking smug yet nervous. Underneath him is Apollo Justice’s disheartened sprite, slouching forward a bit and looking annoyed/exhausted. The tweet says “me: [whispering to my lawyer]” “my lawyer: I’m not asking that” “me: [whispering some more]” “my lawyer: your honor would he still be guilty if he was a worm”.

/End of ID]

#saw the one about switching babies and was like ''this HAS to be an ace attorney character but who'' then I remembered Zak #now that's a man that doesn't care who raises who's kid #ace attorney #pwaa #ace attorney memes #ace attorney text posts #ace attorney spoilers #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #athena cykes #simon blackquill #nahyuta sahdmadhi #ema skye #lana skye #mia fey #mialana #kay faraday #maya fey #zak gramarye #aura blackquill #larry butz #wocky kitaki #apollo justice #aa5 spoilers #original post

[katsu28]

return to sender

pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader

summary: you’ve been getting your neighbor’s mail for the past few months and you were okay with it, but now came a time to finally talk to him about it 

warnings: light swearing, neighbors meet cute, bradley's biceps bc god damn they deserve a warning of their own (2.5k)

navigation

The first time you got someone else’s mail, you didn’t think anything of it. Bradley Bradshaw, it said, 1987 Pennsylvania Court. That was a few doors down from your place, and they were just letters, you could just drop them off in his mailbox the next time you went out. No big deal, it was just one time. 

Then one time became twice, which eventually turned into a third, fourth, fifth time, and so on. Letters soon became bigger envelopes, which didn’t actually fit into his mail slot. 

So you started dropping them on his doorstep, leaving them for him to find the next time he left the house. Knocking on his door and giving him his mail seemed like it would be too much of an endeavor for your poor social skills, because you’d seen Bradley Bradshaw around from afar sometimes, but you’d never said a word to him. No, he was big and tall and scary looking, and as much as you hated to pass judgment on people you didn’t actually know, probably a jerk. 

So yeah, sticking them in his mailbox, leaving them at his door and hightailing it out of there was the best option for everyone. It meant you didn’t have to confront him and tell him that his mail was being sent to the wrong apartment, and he didn’t have to waste his time talking to you. Win win for both of you. 

That all went out the window today, when you opened your door to see the biggest box you’d ever laid eyes on sitting on your welcome mat, the mailing address on the top flap spelling out none other than motherfucking Bradley Bradshaw in large, bold letters. Upon trying to lift it, you very quickly found that you couldn’t even get it to budge more than an inch. 

Looks like you were going to have to talk to Bradley after all. 

After giving yourself a pep talk (and hyping yourself up and going through all the things that could possibly go wrong) you marched your way over to his place, practicing what you were going to say to him the whole way. 

You exhaled one last sharp breath through your mouth, licking your lips nervously before knocking on his door, once, twice, a third time. Faint footsteps came from inside, the clicking of the lock a few seconds after, then the door swung open. 

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the person standing in front of you. It was Bradley, of course, but up close for the first time. For once, you could see him in his entirety, and holy fuck was he hot. Clad in a plain t-shirt and a pair of shorts, he looked unfairly good—a far cry from you in your stretched out leggings and frayed sweatshirt from fucking college. He was tall and broad and tan and about a dozen other words you couldn’t even think of right now, not when all you could do was barely control your reaction to seeing him. You wouldn’t be at all surprised if there was a ‘loading, please wait’ signal flashing above your head. 

His gaze landed on you hovering awkwardly on his doorstep, offering you a polite smile. “Hi, can I help you with something?” 

“Hi. I live a few doors down from here and I think there’s been some sort of mistake with the post office, because I’ve been getting your mail for the past few months.” You blurted, pressing your lips together right after the words left your mouth. Way to ease into it, loser! 

Bradley’s eyebrow’s furrowed, mouth turning down into a confused sort of frown. “Uh…no, I don’t think so? My mail’s been getting here just fine everyday.” 

“Yeah, I know. I’ve been dropping it off in your mailbox every time I get it.”  

His eyes widened, mouth dropping open the tiniest bit in…was that shock? Surprise? Possibly guilt? Maybe a mixture of all three. “Shit, really?” You nodded. “Oh god, I’m sorry, I didn’t even—I didn’t notice.” 

Honestly, you were expecting him to be a dick about it, but here he was, apologizing for something that he couldn’t have even known was happening all this time. It was throwing you for a loop, because you’d built him up in your head to be kinda mean and scary, but he was actually really nice. 

“Um. It’s—it’s okay. Just thought I should let you know.” 

“I guess I should be thanking you then.” He smiled warmly, and you had to fight the urge to turn tail and run. Bradley Bradshaw had the kind of smile that had the power to throw your whole plan out the window. 

See, you’d banked this entire interaction on him being an asshole. You’d tell him to come get his package, he’d do it, somehow fix the whole mail delivery problem, and then you’d never have to talk to him again. Problems solved, no reason for you to have to take this any further. 

Except he wasn’t an asshole at all, which made you feel like an asshole. 

“I’m Bradley, by the way,” He offered, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “Which you already knew, ‘cause you’ve been getting my mail for months. I never got your name though?” 

“Y/N.” You replied, shifting your weight to your other foot. He repeated it, bobbing his head in acknowledgment. Hearing your name come off his lips was…well, the only way you could describe it was weird. It sounded somehow better than you’d heard it come out of anyone else’s mouth. “Right, so that’s not actually what I came over here for. Well, it was to tell you about the mail thing, but also something else. You’ve got a giant package.” Your face burned lava hot as you realized what you said and what it sounded like you were saying (two very different things, by the way). 

Bradley coughed abruptly, choking on his own breath at your words. He pounded on his chest a few times to recover before speaking. “I’m sorry?” 

“Your mail—a really big box. Sent to my apartment. Again!” You exclaimed, attempting to salvage your dignity and this downhill spiraling conversation. You could see Bradley was trying to keep his composure so as to not make you feel any more mortified than he could clearly see you were, but he wasn’t doing a very good job of it. He’d brought up a hand to rub at his mustache, effectively covering most of his mouth, but the beginnings of a smirk curled the edges of it, his eyes glinting in barely contained amusement at your blunder. “There’s a giant box that belongs to you on my doorstep and I can’t move it, so can you just…” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll come grab it.” He nodded quickly, grabbing his keys and stepping outside. He shut the door behind him, gesturing for you to go first. “Lead the way.” 

You started the walk back to your place in dead silence, keeping your eyes trained on the sidewalk so you wouldn’t have to say anything to Bradley. You’d rather stew in your own humiliation and impending misery than initiate another conversation. Or think about how attractive he was, but that was besides the point. Totally, completely irrelevant. 

It was going pretty well, but then, he spoke. “So, when did you move into your place? I can’t say that I’ve seen you around here much.” 

He was trying to make small talk, you could tell. Probably to avoid having to dwell on the very awkward situation from moments prior. And as much as you didn’t want to make any more of a fool out of yourself than you already had, it would’ve been rude not to answer. 

“Been here a few years. I keep to myself mostly though.” Mainly to avoid situations like this. 

“Ah yeah, I’m usually not here too often. My job takes me a lot of different places, so I’m typically gone for months at a time.” He replied casually, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

“Long business trips?” 

“Sorta. I’m Navy. Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, naval aviator—at your service.” Navy, interesting. Now you were wondering how those broad shoulders fit into a jet. 

“So you zoom around in the skies for a living?” 

“It’s a little more than that, but yeah, pretty much,” He snorted, said broad shoulders shaking with laughter. Damnit, even his laugh was endearing. It was getting harder and harder for you to justify making this thing with Bradley a one off. “Maybe I could take you up in my jet one day, give you a taste of what flying free feels like.” 

Was he…flirting with you right now? 

You finally looked at him, raising a curious eyebrow. “Really?” 

“Actually, I’m pretty sure that’s extremely against the rules. I can’t do that, I don’t—I don’t know why I said that.” Bradley admitted, offering you a rather embarrassed smile. 

You didn’t know how to respond to that, but good thing you’d arrived back at your place right at that minute, the huge box on your doormat instantly distracting him. 

“No way! I’ve been waiting for this thing for ages!” He exclaimed, squatting down to run his hand along the cardboard. He turned to you, eyes alight with pure joy. “You wanna know what it is?” 

You didn’t feel like you really needed to know, but from the way Bradley was beaming at you, you found yourself actually growing a little interested. “What is it?” 

“This fancy new coffee machine one of my buddies has been raving about. Apparently it’s supposed to brew like, the best coffee ever. I really think he might be exaggerating a bit, but Hangman’s fairly reliable when it comes to cool things.” 

Your brow raised in curiosity. “Hangman?” 

“His callsign. Mine’s Rooster.” Weird, but somehow it seemed very fitting. 

Bradley hefted the box into his arms with ease, resting it on a raised knee as he attempted to get his arms around it. His biceps bulged with the effort, and you had to make a conscious effort to avert your gaze. God, those things had to be bigger than your head. 

“Thank you again for dropping off my mail all this time, you really didn’t have to.” He said earnestly, fighting another smirk. Oh, he definitely caught you looking.

“I didn’t mind.” You replied quickly, feeling your face grow warm again. “Thought they might be important things. Naval aviator paperwork, maybe.” 

“Right. Well, I’ll let you get on with your day,” Bradley chuckled. He shifted the box a little higher up in his arms, and you looked anywhere else to stop your eyes slipping to his flexing biceps yet again. “But hey, if you ever wanted to chat or hang out or something since we’re neighbors, feel free to swing by. We could try out this coffee machine, see if it’s worth the fortune I spent on it.” 

You hesitated in your response. You knew it wasn’t anything serious, just some coffee between two neighbors, but the weight of it hung heavy in the air. Did you really want to make this more than a one time thing? 

Bradley was really goddamn nice, and as pathetic as it might’ve sounded, just that was enough to make your answer lean towards yes. But he didn’t need to know that yet. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to pressure you for a response right this very minute, so you just nodded. 

“I’ll keep that in mind. It was nice to meet you, Rooster.” You were slightly teasing him about his callsign, but it didn’t look like he minded one bit. One side of his mouth lifted into a smile, dimples on full display. 

“Call me Bradley,” He insisted, brown eyes not unlike the coffee he was offering up boring into yours. “Please.” 

“Okay. Bradley.” He looked pleased at that. “See you around, I guess.” 

“I sure hope so.” 

-------

It was weird how frequently you did start to see Bradley around after that. You’d stopped getting his mail, but sometimes you’d catch a glimpse of him through your window on one of his daily runs, and a lot of the time you somehow left the house or came home at the same time, which resulted in more conversations with each other. 

He’d always go out of his way to say hi or good morning to you when he spotted you, even if you had your head down or your earbuds in, and one time he even scared the living shit out of you by tapping your shoulder when you were looking for your car keys in your bag. Turns out you’d somehow dropped them near his car (which you didn’t even know was his car), and he was on his way out too when he spotted them. 

Things like this happened so often, you began to get used to Bradley. Talking to him became easier, less nerve wracking. It got to a point where you even started to look forward to seeing him out and about, because your interactions always ended up leaving you in a better mood. He was funny, charismatic as hell, and definitely easy on the eyes, and as much as you were afraid to admit it at first, you started to like him a little more than you knew you should’ve. Part of you thought that he might like you too, but you just weren’t sure. 

Yeah, he was a little flirty with you, but you just chalked that up to it being part of his personality. No way he was actually serious about it. That was just who Bradley Bradshaw was. 

Or so you thought.

The answer to your wonders came in the form of a stack of your mail in your mailbox one day a few weeks after the whole giant package fiasco. There was a sticky note attached to the top one, a message scrawled across the paper in small, messy letters. 

These were mixed in with my mail today. My my, how the tables have turned. Here’s my number in case the post office decides to make this a new thing. - Bradley 

You had to hand it to him—Bradley sure knew how to make his mark. You smiled to yourself, phone in hand, fingers entering his number and tapping out a message before you could even take a second to dwell on it. 

y/n: that offer for coffee still on the table by any chance? 

You set it face down on the kitchen counter the moment after you pressed send, walking away from it like that would quell your nerves as you waited for Bradley’s response. But really, what was the likelihood that he was going to see your message in the next—

Ding.

It was pathetic how fast you bolted back to the kitchen to snatch up your phone. 

Bradley: Absolutely. Tomorrow at noon sound okay?

y/n: sounds perfect

Unbeknownst to you, Bradley had also been waiting anxiously for your text, digging his phone out of his pocket the second he felt it buzz, hoping his not-so-subtle way of slipping you his number wasn't too forward of him. He couldn’t help the stupid grin that stretched his lips as his eyes read your text over and over again. It would be perfect. 

Now if he could only figure out how to actually work the goddamn coffee machine, it would be even better. 

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #rooster bradshaw x y/n #bradley rooster bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw fluff #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x fem!reader #rooster bradshaw x fem!reader #top gun maverick #miles teller

[mangoshorthand]

ugh, ok listen. its stupid and cheesy and overplayed but i love the caught under the mistletoe trope. its stupidly corny and as annoying as christmas is, my dumb ass falls for it everytime. you’re my favourite writer for five, and if you could write something for this (or hit me with a bat to improve my taste) that’d be rlly cool. if not, dw and happy holidays.

Stupid, cheesy and overplayed? You just described my entire body of work! I've struggled writing for a while so I hope people enjoy this. Merry Christmas, weirdos x

Twelve Feet Away From the Mistletoe | Five Hargreeves / F Reader 2.8k words

Viktor was a friend of a friend who gradually became your own. 

He was supportive when you lost your job in September, and was even more practical help when you lost your apartment around Halloween. 

“There are like forty spare bedrooms. Technically I can do what I like with six of those since I own a seventh of the house. Plus you wouldn’t get in anyone’s way. There’s like…so much room. 

“Viktor, that’s kind but I’ll be fine. My parents say -”

“Don’t your parents live outside the city?” he interrupted, “I think it would be easier to find work if you’re here.”

“Yeah, it would, but I can’t pay any rent.”

“I don’t want rent. Stay a few months. Be my guest. I could use someone to help me deal with my crazy family anyway. It’s weird being back in that house.”

And so, you’d accepted. It was hard to refuse Viktor anything. 

‘Crazy’ was one word to describe his family. ‘Volatile’, ‘noisy’ and ‘infuriating’ were some others. 

And none were more infuriating than Number Five. 

You met him the first night you stayed, while Viktor was thrashing you at pool as the pair of you got gradually drunker on Moscow Mules. You weren’t really enjoying the game, but you were enjoying hanging out with him, and you’d just mis-cued spectacularly as Five entered the room.

The first thing you noticed was his scowl. The second, third, fourth and fifth thing you noticed was his looks. 

Dark. Pale. Jaw a razor lined angle, nose long and imperious. He moved with quick, confident grace as he crossed the room. It was as if every thread of carpet his shoes touched had been waiting until that moment, just to pave his way, and now all other treads to come would be incidental to the floor’s true purpose. Hands thrust self-assuredly in his pockets, he seemed to look down on you as if from a great height, although he was barely an inch taller. 

Cold green eyes looked you up and down.  

He cut a fine figure, but an arrogant one. Despite his looks, your overriding impression was only of rudeness, so you met the challenge of his gaze unflinchingly. 

After a moment surveying you, he turned to Viktor.

“Luther’s looking for you.”

“Why?” Viktor asked.

“No idea. I’m not your secretary.”

As Five’s gaze shifted back to you, Viktor took the hint and introduced you.

“She’s a friend of mine,” he said, by way of explanation, “she’s lost her apartment so she’ll be staying for a while.”

Five sighed at this, shaking his head at you with a dark chuckle.

“Is there a problem?” you asked, politely. 

“No. No problem,” he said, though his tone making it clear that there was, “It’s only that I’ve seen this play out a dozen times: my brother has a habit of picking up waifs and strays.”

“Don’t be dickhead,” Viktor murmured.

Five shrugged, smirking.

“Letting me stay for a few weeks because we’re friends is hardly ‘picking me up’, you said, bristling, “I’m sure Viktor will ask for your opinion when he wants it.”

Five smiled that infuriating, sarcastic smile of his. Even then, when you were angry with him, looking into his eyes was an experience you noticed for the way it made your heart beat.

“I guess I’m just a little protective,” Five said, delicately, “I know how susceptible he is to a sob story."

He looked at you insolently for a beat longer before addressing his next words to Viktor.

"Don’t let her take advantage of you.”

“Come on, Five,” said Viktor, almost wearily, “I can decide who’s taking advantage for myself.”

Five scoffed, at this, expressing doubt as clearly as if he'd spoken it.

Stinging with the injustice of Five’s snap judgment and his infantilization of his brother, you ground your teeth. You knew Viktor had a tough time as ‘Number Seven’ (always being told he wasn’t good enough), and for a moment you thought you could see that in Five’s treatment of him.

“Your brother’s a grown man. So why don’t you fuck off and go back to torturing small mammals, planning your next school shooting or whatever your We Need to Talk About Kevin - looking ass likes to do?”

Five looked back at you, in slight surprise, studying your angry face. After a short moment, he gave a tiny shrug and made a small noise of assent.

Then, looking back at Viktor:

“Do you want Thai food later?”

When he was gone, Viktor assured you that you’d just made as good an impression as it was possible to make. 

You doubted this, however. Five rarely spoke to you beyond a good morning and a good night. He was polite, but nevertheless guarded. 

It was strange, on the few occasions he had deigned to strike up a conversation with you, he took two routes: he'd either draw you out for no reason other than to challenge you on your opinions, or else ask odd combinations of questions. There was nothing odd in themselves, but in aggregate they felt...strategic. He asked what you liked to do, whether you lived with a roommate or partner in your last place, how you and Viktor met, how well you knew each other…the list went on. 

Perhaps he was still scrutinizing you, ensuring that you weren’t trying to use his brother in any way. 

It stung to feel that he still suspected you when you’d done nothing but accept a friend’s offer of help, but you were soon able to put it from your mind in the wake of the enjoyment you got from staying there and hanging out with the rest of Viktor’s family. Over the few weeks you were there, you indulged Luther, chatted animatedly with Diego, and laughed with Klaus and Lila. 

But still, and despite his polite superciliousness, only the oldest brother drew your eye as soon as he entered any room.

He unnerved as well as attracted you. Sometimes, you thought you caught him watching you, peering over whatever book he was reading with a steady look of contemplation. As soon as you noticed it, however, you concluded it was probably just absent-mindedness: you found him staring into space or at one of siblings just as often. 

You found a new job by mid-November, but Viktor persuaded you to wait for your first month’s paycheck to come in before you put down a deposit on a new place, so when it came to your last night staying with them there were half-assed string lights and tinsel hung haphazardly around Hargreeves manor. 

Those on the tree and the fire crackling in the grate were the living room’s only light. In the flickering, warm glow, even Luther’s piss-poor attempt at decoration looked passable.

With Christmas music playing softly in the background, the booze had been flowing. Ill-advised mulled wine followed ill-advised eggnog followed ill-advised mimosas, leading Luther and Sloane to already stagger off to bed.

Sprawled on one of the couches, Viktor leaned towards you, lowering his voice so as not to be heard over the noise of Klaus and Diego arguing over who had most right to the final gingerbread man. 

“I'll miss you, but at least when you're gone Five's crush might calm down."

“What?” you asked, too quickly to pass off as true ignorance.

“Come on, he’s been staring at you for the past three weeks.” Viktor smiled, teasing in his tipsiness, I’ve never seen him like this,” he added, fondly.

“Yeah, whatever.” you said, brushing this off with a roll of your eyes, “If he’s been staring at me, it’s probably only because I piss him off more than anyone else in the room.”

“We all piss him off.” Viktor said, reasonably, “Everyone he likes pisses him off.”

You looked at him doubtfully.

“Pretty weird way to be.”

Viktor shrugged.

“Well, he's definitely interested. The other day he asked if there was anything between you and me. Why else would he ask me that?"

You looked at Five covertly from the corner of your eye.

“Probably just checking I’m not some gold-digger moving in on that sweet sweet Hargreeves dough.”

“I don’t think he cares about the Hargreeves dough,” Viktor replied. 

“Yeah, well,” you murmured, hoping that this would be the end of the conversation. 

But Viktor didn’t oblige you in this. The drink was making him uncharacteristically tenacious.

“He’s into you. I’m sure of it. So you don’t like him?”

You sighed deeply, your own mild intoxication making it harder to bullshit him.

“I’m not saying he isn’t hot,” (Viktor visibly cringed at this remark), “but why would I be into someone who looks at me like I’m a problem?”

“I think that’s just his face,” Viktor said, more uncertain now, “but I hear you.”

The conversation moved on, and you chatted with the family lazily as, one by one they all filtered off to bed. Soon, it was just you, Five and Viktor who, when you turned to look at him after Klaus’s departure, had fallen asleep on the couch. 

Five caught sight of this and let out a small laughing breath. At the sound, you caught his eye and smiled, sharing the moment of humor.

At this reception, he got slowly up from his armchair and moved over to your couch. His usually confident movements were smaller than usual. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought he was uncertain in this approach. 

“Too much eggnog,” you said, as he sat down, nodding at his snoring brother.

“Mhm.” Five agreed, “There’s not much of him and he’s no drinker.”

You fell back into silence. He was only a few inches from you now, and it was awkward; strangely awkward. you were just thinking how best to excuse yourself and whether you should wake Viktor, when Five spoke again. 

“So, you’re moving into your new place tomorrow?”

You cleared your throat. There should be nothing uncomfortable about this. This was just small-talk with your friend’s brother.

...Your friend's brother who apparently hated your guts yet had also appeared in your dreams virtually every night since you met him in varying states of undress.

Pulling yourself together, you turned to face him with a passable impression of ease. 

“Yeah. I’m all packed. The moving van will be here around 11.”

“Hm,” Five said.

It was a single syllable, yet its ambiguity in tone made you look at him more closely.

He noticed.

“Will you decorate the new place for christmas?” he asked, quickly.

“Probably not,” you said, trying to keep your tone conversational, “my parents are away this year so I’ll be doing Christmas alone. There’s no point in unpacking it all just to put it away again in a few days.”

Giving himself thinking time, Five shifted, letting out a little sigh as he repositioned himself. Holding his glass of whisky on his knee, he leaned back, resting his head against the couch cushions and watching you from beneath the dark hair now falling over his eyes. 

“That seems a shame,” he said, finally.

You shrugged, mirroring him unconsciously, leaning back against the cushions so that your faces were just over a foot apart

“There’s always next year.”

“You’d be welcome here.” he said, seriously, “It was nice having you for Thanksgiving.”

“I’d never assume Viktor would invite me.”

“But I’m inviting you.”

You looked at him with a confused expression, which he interpreted correctly:

“What? Is it too much to imagine I want you to be there?”

'Yes', you wanted to say.

“You called me a deluded hippy at Thanksgiving.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing. You’re a progressive…an idealistic progressive.” 

He smiled, and your eyes flicked uncontrollably down to his lips. 

“And I only said that because you called me a fascist,” he continued, unaware of your unruly gaze flicking guiltily away from his mouth, “I know you weren’t being serious, but I don’t take that sort of accusation lightly.”

He responded to the question posed by your expression:

“I spent a lot of time in 1930s Munich. Not nice.”

You stole another glance at him and caught his grim face; handsome features clouded by too many dark memories.  

“I’m sorry,” you said, more softly than you’d ever spoken to him before. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, “I guess I’ve not given you the best impression.”

“No,” you said, disclaiming the idea unconvincingly, “it’s not exactly that…”

He raised an eyebrow skeptically, and you chuckled slightly.

“Well, I got the impression you wouldn’t like me to come to another family celebration, anyway.”

“And now I want to correct that impression.” he said, seriously, “I’d like to spend christmas with you. With all of us, I mean.”

You’d been looking into his eyes for too long now, fine lashes framing them, his pupils blown in the low light. Somehow, those eyes always gave you the impression you were being assessed.

…And for the first time, it occurred to you that perhaps you were being assessed: just not in the way you’d assumed.

You blinked and looked down, though you didn’t move your head from beside his.

“Thanks Five,” you replied, after a silence of seconds that felt like minutes. “I’d like that.” 

He smiled again, the corners of his mouth just twitching. It was as if he was trying to conceal just how much you accepting his invitation meant, but the lines around his eyes betrayed him. As you smiled in return, he couldn’t contain it further, and those gorgeous lips broke into a genuine, unrestrained smile.

And somehow, over the course of the conversation, your heads had shifted to a distance of no more than six inches apart.

You could feel his exhales on your cheeks. 

“I heard you and Viktor talking tonight.” he said, voice low, “He’s right about me.”

You felt the heat rising in your cheeks as he continued.

“I don’t think you’re a problem. Far from it, actually.”

“Oh,” you said. It was all you could say as he inched ever closer to you. 

You could have counted each of his eyelashes.

“And I also know that you think I’m hot,” he said, emphasizing the word with the ghost of his usual shit-eating grin back in his eyes, “so why not take the opportunity of being under the mistletoe and kiss me?”

You looked up to where he’d indicated. Across the room, above the fireplace, there was indeed a bunch of felt mistletoe, tied with a red, velvet bow: exactly the sort of decoration Luther would buy. 

“But we’re not under the mistletoe,” you said, hoping to give your racing mind and beating heart some time to take stock of this, “it’s twelve feet away.”

Five’s eyebrows twitched, and he looked quickly from you to the mistletoe and back again.

“Let me fix that,” he said, and suddenly your upper arms were caught in his grip.

Air crushed in on you as you both disappeared in a flash of blue, and then rushed away as you rematerialized beside the fireplace, mistletoe hanging overheard. You swayed from the surprise of unexpected teleportation, holding onto Five’s lapels for dear life as you tried to stay upright.

But his arms were around you, strong and solid. And his mouth was on yours, soft and yielding. You breathed his breath; tasted the sweet burn of scotch on his lips and felt yourself kissing him back, responding to a careful passion that you could sense might go further but for his self-restraint. 

His hands left your arms and came to cup your jaw, rising gooseflesh following the path of his fingers at the nape of your neck. You shivered at the sensation and deepened the kiss, your fingers automatically starting to gently tug into his soft, eucalyptus-smelling hair.

He made a low, appreciative sound against your lips but then, perhaps conscious of his brother sleeping on the couch, broke the kiss and stepped away.

You could do nothing but stand there: surprised, dazed, yet anxious to recapture his lips. The kiss had felt like one, shining, crystalline moment as it happened, but now it had already retreated too far over the horizon for you to stay satisfied.

You opened your mouth to say…you didn’t know what, but, grinning his infuriating grin, he held up a single finger to silence you.

“I'll see you on Christmas Eve. Stay a couple of nights.”

You nodded, mutely.

“It’s forecast to be cold though, so if you get cold in one of the spare bedrooms you could always-”

Now it was your turn to hold up a finger and silence him:

“Don’t ruin this with a crappy pickup line.”

He nodded sagely.

“Noted.” 

And with a small wink, he vanished in another of those blue flashes. 

Read part 2 >>

Request masterlist >> HERE

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed): @thebearmage, @nevbrooke-555, @fiannee

NOTE: I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See masterlist for request status and more.

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy imagine #umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy five #umbrella academy number five #umbrella academy five x reader #umbrella academy five x you #five hargreaves x you #five hargreaves x reader #number five imagine #five hargreeves imagine #number 5 imagine #number 5 x reader #number five x you

[fishsticksloser]

Heartache

Hobie x gn!reader

Warnings: swearing, angst and no comfort, breakups

A/N: how's this for my first Spiderverse fic? This is also based on the Character AI intro by fairybaby. The intro is written by them, but after that is all me. :) Sorry it's so late... Shit happened :(

Good  |  Bad

"You miss me yet?" Hobie asks, glancing back at you. His smile is slow, like he knows the answer but wants to hear it from you anyway. "Whenever you want me back, you can have me."

He already apologized—three times—for missing another date. You know he’s busy. Dismantling systems of oppression doesn’t give him a lot of free time. He spends whatever time he can with you, obviously. Even if he doesn’t like labels—you and him are together. It doesn’t matter that you’re a little mad at him.

"Hobie..." You sigh, shake your head. "What are we...? Really, what are we?"

"I don’t do labels," Hobie responds, shifting to meet your gaze. "I think…" He trails off, trying to convey it without sounding mushy or sentimental—both things that he’s not good at expressing. He nods, his voice and his gaze steady. "I think we’re something... Something that can last."

"Then why can't you make time for me?" You ask, looking at him desperately. "What do I actually mean to you?"

"I do make time for you!" He protests, not meeting your gaze suddenly. "I’m busy. I’m a busy guy. I work a lot." He runs a hand over his dreads, sighing to himself. "You know that—I think you just want me to say what I think. You know I feel. You’re really important to me." His voice is quiet.

"You've missed so many dates! Some of which you planned... No call, no text..." You huff, looking away from him, exasperated. "This is the fifth time we've rescheduled over this one date..."

“I know, I’ve apologized!" he replies, his voice sharp. "Look, I’m sorry, okay? I can’t plan my whole day around you—I just can’t." He sighs, shaking his head. Hobie rubs the back of his neck. "You know I like to keep things spontaneous. Hey, I’m sorry, okay? If you’re upset, then that’s on me."

"I don't expect you to plan your whole day around me, Hobart!" You say, a bit angrily. "What I want is for you is to actually show up when you say you will. You... Fuck, Hobie, I haven't seen you in weeks! You texted me about this date and I got so excited... I was so excited to see you and you didn't come... I just... I don't want to be second place to you when you're always first in mine..."

He mutters, his arms crossed over his chest as something inside him starts to burn. "I’m the one who’s busy, I’m the one who does important work—I’m the one who has responsibilities—and that’s how I treat you? Like you're some afterthought? Well, that’s okay." He shakes his head, turning away from you suddenly. "You can find someone else to put you first." His gaze hardens, and he starts to walk away.

"You're first place in my life... I always put you first. I always make time for you, Hobie." You say softly, you wrap your arms around yourself protectively. "I don't want someone else. I want you, but you don't seem to want me at all, do you?"

"You think I don’t want you?" His voice rises. He stops, not looking at you. "Do you have any idea how important you are to me? How much I care about you?" He lets out an angry growl before he speaks again. Hobie whirls to face you, an angry fire in his eyes. "Don’t you dare say that I don’t care about you. How dare you! I have other things to do besides go on dates with you!"

"If I'm so important to you, why can't you make time for me!?" You yell back. "You think it's just dates!? I... I haven't seen you in almost a month, you hardly ever text me, no calls. What am I supposed to think?" You sigh and close your eyes, reigning in your anger. "I understand what you do is important, but I put things aside for you because you're important to me. I... I can't keep going like this, Hobie. I need you. Not all the time, but sometimes..."

"I have a life, Y/N!" He responds, his eyes glaring and blazing as you yell at him. "You’re not all of my life, you know! I have my music, I have my activism, I have… I have—" Hobie pauses, letting out a breath of exhaustion. His voice now softer, quieter.. "Look, I care about you. I really do. I’m sorry I don’t make you a bigger part of my life, but I’ve got a lot going on right now, okay?"

"Then let me help!" You tell him desperately, stepping closer to him. "Whatever we are, it's... It's part of what we do is help each other... I... I want to help you, Hobie. But I can't when you just leave me, I can't when you ghost me. Whatever we are, we're in this together. If you can't trust me with that then why are we even together?"

He lets out a breath of frustration, shaking his head as you approach him, the anger in his voice giving way to the weariness inside him. "I don’t need any help." He says curtly, not meeting your gaze. "I don’t want any help," he mutters before speaking up again. "You’re right. Why are we even together if I can’t trust you? Maybe this whole thing was a mistake," he continues, his voice laced with disappointment and sadness. "I think this was a mistake."

You watch Hobie walk away before you go home and lay in bed. You put your hand in the pocket of his hoodie you're wearing and pull out something. It’s a shiny, slightly metallic spider totem, smooth to the touch and small enough to fit in your whole hand. It's a funny little gift you'd gotten him after he told you he was Spider-Man. It’s polished to a near-mirror sheen thanks to the amount of times Hobie rubbed his thumb against it whenever he was nervous. But now, looking at it brings only more questions—and questions lead to guilt.

If he cared about you, he’d fight harder for your relationship.

That’s what you told yourself, but you couldn’t help but doubt every time your thoughts wandered down that path.

What if he just didn’t care? What if he didn’t love you? What if you were just a burden on him? What if he could have better than you? What if he didn’t need you?

He did care about you. He really, truly did. He was just… preoccupied. Life got in the way, so often. He was busy, he was so busy. There were so many things to do, so many problems to solve. He wanted to share all of that with you, but how could he? How could he find time to be with you, when there was so much else to do? He wanted you. He wanted to be with you. But his heart said one thing while his brain said another.

Hobie wasn’t the best at communicating, that’s for sure. He was so used to being on his own, being independent and self-sufficient, that he forgot his actions—or his inaction—had the potential to hurt people around him. He wasn’t the best at letting people in, at all. He wasn’t the best at letting people stay. He was too afraid, too cowardly to admit all of those things. But if you’re willing to stick with him… he just might learn to be better.

#spider man: across the spider verse #sony spiderverse #hobie spiderverse #beyond the spiderverse #spiderman #hobie x reader #hobie brown #hobie x you #spiderpunk #spiderpunk x you #spiderpunk x y/n #spiderpunk x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n

[strawberryforks]

extra credit // cole walter x reader

summary: you and cole had a falling out. you’re not friends anymore but you still can’t sit back and watch him fail all of his classes—when you decide to tutor him, things are revealed, and things are fixed.

warnings: swearing, crying (this one has a happy ending don’t worry)

word count: 1730

a/n: requests/asks open and encouraged! <3

you hated cole walter more than was probably healthy. he broke your heart in fifth grade when he destroyed the science fair project you’d spent months working on and telling him about. family dinners were awkward as sin because even though you’d fallen out with the walters, your parents hadn’t… they owned a neighboring ranch and had know the walter family your entire life. so yes, you hated cole walter but you didn’t hate yourself which was the only reason you’d agreed to tutor him. your mom had begged you and your teacher mentioned that it would look good on your transcripts. in class, when you looked over and saw a red ‘f’ circled on the corner of his assignment, you almost felt bad. he’d shook his head and stuffed it into his bag. when the bell rang he was the first one out of his seat—you slung your bag over your shoulder and followed behind him, legs working twice as hard to catch up to his insanely long ones. “walter!” you shouted, “wait up!” he didn’t slow his pace but lee turned and tilted his head to the side. “not you.” you dismissed. “cole!” you tried again. this time he stopped. In the middle of the hallway teeming with teenagers, all in a rush to get home, he stopped. cole turned around and his blue eyes were full of confusion. it made sense, his apprehension, because you hadn’t spoken to him directly in years. yeah, you could hold a grudge. he looked side to side, almost expecting there to be another person with the same name. when there wasn’t, he gulped. “y/n/n?”

it was your turn to gulp. you hadn’t been called that in quite sometime. not by someone who mattered—who had mattered so much to you. “just y/n please.”

cole nodded and muttered his apologies, he could give you that much. “do you need a ride?”

“i need to talk to you, but we can do that in the car if you’ve got room.”

cole nodded and left through the double doors heading out to the student parking lot. He cast glances over his shoulder checking that you were still there and not a figment of his imagination. He opened your door and you scoffed but slid in anyways. “Thought I called shotgun!” Issac yelled, knocking into the passenger door before sliding into the back. cole shot him a look—one that said ‘shut up’ and he did. lee slid in beside him and then alex. the rest of the boys climbed in as well. you peaked over the back of your seat, meeting issac’s gaze. “sorry ise, i had no idea. we can swap spots if you want.”

“he’s fine,” cole said. he reached across you, grabbed your buckle, and plugged it in. “i could’ve done that,” you grumbled. cole didn’t care. he cranked the tunes, you switched the station and because you were talking to him, because you hadn’t in so long and he’d quite literally dreamed of this moment, he let you. he sat and listened to the shitty station you chose with a smile. danny bumped your shoulder on the way in and in the living room, you sat close to alex. your legs touched and though you thought nothing of it, cole was far from happy. alex whispered in your ear, “stay here for a second, i’ve never seen cole so red in the face.” you rolled your eyes, “i don’t need to make your brother jealous, alex. one—you have a girlfriend,” jackie was at one of her friend’s houses, “two, i’m not interested, and three, you guys don’t need another reason to fight. you hit him last time and i bet he’s itching to get even.”

cole passed you a glass of juice—your favorite and when his hand was empty he grabbed your arm and pulled you up. “what did you need to talk about?”

you weren’t stupid, you knew that was his way of getting you away from his brother. you didn’t care, though. you followed him and instead of leading you to his bedroom he took you out to the loft. you two had spent plenty of time together out there and you wondered if that was intentional. you climbed up and sat down, balancing on your favorite beam. cole inched closer, so he could reach you if he needed to. below there was only hay, but still, he was nervous, “i hate it when you sit there.”

“i know,” you said, but didn’t move, and that was that. “what’s up?” he asked softly.

“your hair. the middle part, i don’t like it.”

subconsciously he drug a hand through his blond locks then he saw a smile split your cheeks. you started laughing and he rolled his eyes. “had me ready to ask my mom for a haircut, y/n. not cool, not cool.”

this, you two, it felt too normal. too comfortable. too right. it was hard to remember that you were mad, let alone why.

you coughed a little, cleared your throat. “your grades, cole. they’re bad. i mean they’ve never been good—but you’ve really fallen off.”

cole’s smile flattened but you considered your small verbal assault “even when you were busy with football and with me it was never this bad, so what’s going on?”

“it’s not like i can go to college. football was all i had, it was my way out. when i lost it i had nothing, y/n. the only reason i haven’t dropped out is—“

“is because katherine and i would kill you?”

“i didn’t know you cared.”

“oh my lack of caring is not the problem here. it’s never been so don’t even start.” you take a breath, “ms jacobs said you’re doing bad in everything and worse in english—not in those exact words, so don’t start pouting or anything. i went around and talked to your teachers and got the work you missed, what they’re willing to let you redo, and extra credit assignments. so, get to work. i’m officially your tutor and no one i’m tutoring is getting anything less than an eighty.”

cole groaned when you handed him the pile of work but when you divided it by subject and deadline it was less overwhelming. the two of you worked in tandem for hours. he wrote, you edited. he attempted problems and you corrected them it he was wrong—explaining how to fix things. you went over formulas until he swore they were permanently burned into the backs of his eyelids.

“we’ll call it a night.” you decided when a quarter of the pile was completed. “you write an essay tonight and email it to me—i’ll edit it for you. the rest we can do when we meetup another day.”

“okay.” cole insisted on helping you down, and then when you turned to head out the driveway he grabbed your arm. “where are you going?”

“home.” you said.

“stay the night. you can take my bed and i’ll sleep on the couch. it’s dark and walking alone, especially at night, isn’t something i want you doing.”

“cole.” you warned.

“i don’t want anything to happen to you.” more than anything it was a confession. “stay for dinner at least, if you still want to leave i’ll drive you home. if you’re dead set on walking, i’ll walk with you.”

you couldn’t argue with that, not when kathrene and george were such great cooks. you headed inside and cole pulled an extra seat up to the table for you. “just you tonight, y/n?” george asked.

“yeah. mom and dad are at home, i just came over to help cole with… uh…” you didn’t know if all of his siblings and parents were aware of how he was struggling so you opted to say nothing. “with my truck,” cole supplied when his mother pinned him with a glare full of suspicion. “i love your outfit,” you tell parker when she passed you butter to twirl your corn through. cole passes you the salt before you can think to ask and it’s nice that he remembers these things. a smile tugs at the corner of my lips. small but bright.

after dinner you give in. you agree to sleepover and decide that you’ll take the bed and cole can sleep on the couch. when you’re settled in his room he leaves. you’re about to go to sleep, blankets piled on top of me and a smell that is so uniquely cole all around me when something catches my eye. it’s… it’s your project. you stand quick and cross to the closet, pulling it down carefully. the project he ruined in fifth grade is all there—glued back together. it’s perfect. you cry. it’s like you can’t stop crying. relief, anger, sadness, happiness, the emotions all slam into you with such force. tears trail down your cheeks and the wetness is still there when you find cole staring up at the ceiling, on the couch. he stands up quick—you’re upset, crying and he hates it. he doesn’t know what to do, what happened, how to fix it. you wrap your arms around him and squeeze. with your face buried into his chest you sob, “cole you fixed it,” it’s then that he finally clues in. “i couldn’t fix us so i… i fixed that. i never meant to break it.”

“i’m sorry!” you cried—loud and quiet at the same time. “no i am. i should’ve tried harder to explain myself,”

“i should’ve let you, cole. i never gave you a chance.”

“will you? give me a chance?”

you nodded. having cole back was the best thing that’d happened to you in a long time. family dinners became less awkward, you hungout with the walters more and a few weeks later, when it was time for the semi-formal dance, he asked you. picked you up in his truck (it was fixed and working great), gave you flowers, and spun you around all night. you held onto his arm, chatted, and at the end, you two stood outside under the stars, not quite ready to say goodbye or goodnight.

“i love you.” he said—it suprised you but not too much.

“i think i love you too.”

"you think you love me?" he asked with a teasing smile. “what if I kiss you right now? would that make it fact?"

you nodded, your lips met, and then the night was perfect. the project was fixed and so were you and cole. your best friend was now your boyfriend and you couldn’t be happier.

#my life with the walter boys #the walters #cole walter #alex walter #issac walter #cole walter x reader

[whatamesswehavemade]

Fuck, I'm So Sorry- Eddie Munson x Reader

Requested: Yes

Pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader

Requested: Yes

Word count: 1,319

Warnings: swearing, crying, Eddie yelling at you but makes up for it.

100% Fluff

GIF not mine

“Now put your finger here and strum light like this,” Eddie guides your hand from behind you. You’re sitting on your bedroom floor between Eddie’s legs. He brought his guitar over to your place after months of begging him to teach you. He was worried about you damaging his poor guitar, but you promised him he could keep his hands on it at all times to make sure not even a scratch could happen.

You strum, and it makes a way prettier noise than five minutes ago in your first part of the practice. You turn your head and smile at him. He rubs his nose against yours before catching your lips with his. He meant it as a peck, but you got lost in his intoxicating taste. You turn as much as possible in his lap, letting go of the guitar. 

It slips from your lap and hits the floor. You both jump, and he reaches around you and grabs it, laughing. “At least we’re not on your bed. That would’ve been a nasty fall.” He slides the guitar back in your lap.

“Sorry, Eds. I got a little carried away there.” You flush, putting your hands back in position on the guitar.

He leans over and kisses your cheek. “It’s fine, babe. Anyways, where were we?”

The next hour, you learn simple strings while the rain splatters against your window.

Lightning flashes over your room, causing you to jump a bit.

“I’ve got you, babe, don’t worry, your pretty little head.” He kisses the back of your head while bringing you impossibly closer.

“Are you talking to me or the guitar?” you laugh.

“Of course, I’m talking to you––” A deep, rumbling thunder cuts him off. 

It was close and caused you to yelp and jump while tightening your hold on the neck of the guitar. The sharp jump movement with your hand's opposing force caused the neck to crack. You both hear it, looking down at the neck and seeing the crack, only another hit away from the entire top breaking in half.

“Fuck, Eds! I’m so sorry!” You let go of the guitar to let him grab it. He jumped up with the guitar, inspecting it.

“Fuck, Y/N! I knew this would happen. This is why I didn’t want to teach you. Fuck! I have a show this weekend, and this is gonna cost an arm and leg to fix. Probably my kidney too!” 

You’ve never seen him so mad at you. You’ve definitely seen him angry, but it has never been directed towards you. You jump to your feet with your hands out, unsure whether to grab Eddie or the guitar, but you’re frantic. “I’m so sorry, Eddie. I didn’t mean it.”

He puts the guitar in the case, latches it shut, and stands up, walking to your door. “I’ve gotta go see if I can fix it myself or something.”

“Eds, let me help. I’m sorry. I didn’t ––”

“It is what it is, Y/N. I gotta go!” He stormed out of your room, and a few seconds later, you heard your front door slam shut.

You sink to your knees and start crying. You hear his van start over, the loud rain pings hitting your window. You hold yourself, rocking back and forth.

“It was just an accident,” you whisper to yourself.

After a few minutes, when you ran out of tears, you looked over at the clock. It only takes him about 10 minutes to get from your house to his. In the rain and at night, maybe an extra few minutes. He’s been gone for roughly 15 minutes now.

You pull yourself off the ground and go over to the phone by your bed. You dial his number and let it ring. He doesn’t pick up.

You try again. Nothing.

Now you start to worry. What if he didn’t make it home? 

He did drive off pretty fast, and he was mad, so now you start to think the worst.

You dial again. And again. Now that it’s your fifth time calling, if he doesn’t pick up this time, you swear you’re going to jump in your car and go check.

“What?” He snaps on the phone.

“Eddie, a-are you OK?” your voice breaks.

He sighs. “Yes, I’m fine. Now stop calling. You’re gonna wake up the neighbors. I’ll talk to you later.” He hangs up.

You start crying again. You roll up into a ball on your bed, ending up crying yourself to sleep.

An hour or two later, you hear tapping on your window. You ignore the taps, thinking it’s the wind or the rain, and rollover. Your head hurts from the sobbing.

The taps continue, getting louder. They became knocks.

You jump up and grab the baseball bat you keep under your bed–– your parents leave you home alone often–– and stalk slowly to your window. Once you get close enough, your hands tightening on the bat, a figure pops up in view. You go to yell but realize it’s Eddie, soaking wet. He lightly smiles at you. You drop the bat and open the window, letting him jump in.

His hands go up defensively. “Damn, were you gonna beat the shit outta me? Well, I know I deserve it.”

“Let me go get you a towel; you’re soaked.” You go to leave the room, but he grabs your wrist and pulls you into his soaking form.

He kisses the top of your head and sways you back and forth. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. It wasn’t even that bad. I have a friend who will help me fix it tomorrow.”

You look up at him and sniffle. “You said you didn’t want to teach me. That you knew that I’d break it. I didn’t mean to….” you trail off, feeling the tears well up.

“Hey, hey, no. I was dumb. I was being an ass. I’m sorry, babe. Fuck, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry,” he shoves his face into your hair, tightening his arms around you.

The two of you stand like this for a while, waiting for you to settle your breathing. You look up at him and give a weak smile. He leans down and rubs his nose against yours. “I obviously love you more than the guitar, princess. You know that, right?”

You lean up on your toes and kiss him lightly, pulling away. “I know now. I love you too, Eds. Now let me get you a towel and a change of clothes because I’m not letting you back out into that storm.”

Once getting a change of clothes from your dad’s closet–– an old shirt and shorts you know he won't miss–– and a few towels, you come back with a confused look on your face. “Eds, you do know my parents aren’t home, right?” you toss the towel at him, going and grabbing new pajamas for yourself. 

He starts to change as you have your back to him, slipping on a new top and sleep pants. “Yeah, I know. Why?”

You turn back to him. “You climbed through my window. In the rain. I have a front door, you know.”

He smiles, ruffling the towel through his hair. “I thought it’d be more romantic to scale your house to apologize. What, is there a problem with that?” He throws the towel in your face jokingly.

“You could’ve been struck by lightning. Or fallen. Or now catch a nasty cold since you were in the rain for however long.” You cross your arms over your chest.

“Aw, I love when you care too much, babe. C’mere.” He reaches out and grabs your waist, bringing you in for a kiss. “And when my guitar is all fixed up, I promise I’ll go back to teaching you how to play. Just, probably not during a storm next time.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #writings #fluff #joseph quinn #joe quinn #stranger things 4 #stranger things fluff #stranger things imagine #stranger things season four #stranger things smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanart #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader smut #dustin henderson #chrissy stranger things #stranger things vol 1 #steve harrington #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n

[jedimasterbailey]

WARNING! AHSOKA SHOW RANT DOWN BELOW! SPOILERS!

Furthermore, I’m going to be completely honest in this review so if you’re someone who truly enjoyed the show, you’re a Rebels stan, etc. then this post isn’t for you. Haters will be blocked immediately so take your negative energy elsewhere. You have been warned!

For everyone else, buckle up because I’ve got a lot to say and I’d love to hear your thoughts on this as well. All comments are welcome so long as they are respectful to everyone.

Okay, so now that the show is done for now. I’m going to be listing some major talking points. We’re there some aspects of the show that I enjoyed/appreciated? Absolutely! But overall, I’m leaving this show very disappointed, confused, and frustrated. The finale left me feeling empty and never have I personally been more silent after a Star Wars show. Now mind you I think this has a lot to do with the fact that I love Ahsoka’s character dearly as well as the Clone Wars and the prequels so there is bias here. Furthermore I am pretty indifferent with Rebels so going in knowing that the Ahsoka show wasn’t going to be…well about Ahsoka but rather a Rebels sequel, that already put a bad taste in my mouth and I was very nervous how this show was going to go and well…it was exactly what I expected from a Filoni/cheap Disney production. Without further ado, here’s a list of all my beef.

1.) Lack of a Coherent and Cohesive Story

So I’ve mentioned this in a previous post, but my main issue with Dave Feloni productions is that the story seems to be going all over the place and there’s a lot of moving parts that don’t necessarily meld well together. I often think to myself that Ahsoka is an example of a poorly written fanfiction brought to the screen. So the plot of the show initally was focused on Ahsoka bringing Ezra home. Okay, that’s simple, there’s many different ways we can make that cool and interesting but that’s not what happened here. We’re just filled with a ton of confusing information and we’re in for a very boring journey heading for a very anticlimactic and unsatisfying ending.

For starters, we the audience are informed that Ahsoka and Sabine had started an apprenticeship (which I have ALOT of issues with but that’s for another talking point) but they got into a tiff (which we never find out about and/or see) and now things are just depressing and weird between them. First of all, anyone who has seen Rebels KNOWS that Ahsoka and Sabine literally had very little to do with each other; I can’t recall a single conversation those two have had in the past, nor was it ever eluded to us that Sabine is Force sensitive.

Second we see that Hera and Sabine don’t have anything to do with each other for some reason? Which is weird considering all that’s happened and their history but okay suddenly Sabine, a grown ass 30+ year old woman is Ahsoka’s responsibility, which again why? We don’t get any background information, we’re just expected to accept and go with it.

Third, Ahsoka and Hyuang are reunited and working together immediately but again do we know how that became to be? No. We see none of that.

Fourth we are told that Morgan Elsbeth, a one off antagonist from the Mandalorian that Ahsoka fought is suddenly a Dathormirian woman even though she looks nothing like one besides her outfits in the show nor was that eluded to previously.

Fifth, we are introduced to these two new…I don’t even know what to call them “dark siders” “non Jedi” Shin and Baylan (who is apparently a former Jedi from the Clone Wars but did we see that or see how he knew Ahsoka and Anakin? No.) but we aren’t given any reason to care about them other than they’re in Ahsoka’s way of completing her mission. They end up being more like time fillers that anything else and end up walking away from the big conclusion. Like…why are they even in this show and why should we care?

Perhaps Dave Feloni has this big grand story in his mind but he’s so far up his own ass that none of us get to see this story. It’s like seeing a little kid play with their action figures and they’re super passionate about it but as a outsider you have no idea what’s going on. Now this isn’t good not only for the sake of good storytelling but it’s bad for business too.

Disney wants to make as much money off of Star Wars as they can. That’s extremely obvious. However here you have a show that isn’t going to pull in a casual Star Wars viewers (they would have to watch so much content to catch up on whose who and what is going on) nor is it really going to pull in fans of Clone Wars and Rebels because while they overlap, the fandoms are different and Feloni hasn’t done a good job melding those worlds together thus the divisive opinions on this show. This leaves for an incredibly small niche of people and honestly I think whatever toy sells they make from this show will do better than the actual ratings. I would be shocked if they greenlit for another season because I’m pretty done with this story as is many of the people who would be willing to watch.

All in all this is embarrassing how Feloni and the gang with all the money and resources can’t pull off a simple and epic show when there are thousands of unpaid fanfic writers that could pull off a much better story and build these beloved up characters, which leads into my next point.

2. The Characterizations of Ahsoka, Sabine, and Hera Are Bad

Now I have mentioned previously how much I love Ahsoka but damn it upon watching this show, she may as well be dead. Ahsoka has been given the Luke Skywalker treatment in that Ahsoka has been stripped of everything that made her lovable in Clone Wars and Rebels and is left as a sorry shell of who she once was. Her dialouge is hollow and lifeless not like the lively Ashley counterpart that made us all love Ahsoka in the first place. And no don’t give this “well she’s older now” bullshti excuse because Obi Wan Kenobi never lost his cheekiness and charisma as an old man, neither did Yoda, or Leia, etc. Just because you age doesn’t mean you have to be lifeless. Maturity does not equate to emotionless. Secondly for a woman whose well into her fifties and still acts very much like a Jedi Ahsoka’s views on the Jedi and their philosophy seem very warped and the audience is again left confused as to where she stands on the Jedi. I mentioned in a previous post how I couldn’t stand Ahsoka’s negativity towards the Jedi and how nobody seems to matter but Anakin (even though he’s put her through a ton of trauma and has tried to kill her as Vader) because it’s just so distasteful to the people who raised her and loved her that died by genocide no thanks to Anakin. Ahsoka has zero character development other than she seems to forgive Anakin for his wrongdoings despite the nonexistent apology. For a show that has her name on it, she sure is boring. Makes me miss Ashley and old Ahsoka even more.

As for Sabine I probably could write a whole thesis on how unlikeable she is but I’ll keep it short. One, I find it sick on Feloni’s part that he’s having a grown 30+ year old woman act like a teenager and be snarky with just about everyone. Ezra, who annoyed me immensely in Rebels, was WAY more mature and grounded. And again I’m sick and tired of the Mandalorian excuse of you getting to be an asshole because youre Mandalorian. Shut up. No one is above manners and decency. Sabine’s actions in this show have been far from Jedi like and thanks to her immaturity, she left Ahsoka for dead once and is indirectly responsible for the death of New Republic officers who were trying to stop this very dangerous mission that could possibly bring Thrawn and the Empire back ensuing more death and destruction of innocents. Ahsoka deserves to be angry with her for her words and actions, but of course Sabine gets a free pass and her bad behavior will continue to be enabled.

As for Hera…when did she become such a Karen? Just because you’re an officer doesn’t mean you get to abuse your power for your own personal agenda. That Senator was right about her. Finding Thrawn is a threat to the galaxy and using resources and putting lives at risk for it is a big deal. Hera was depicted as honorable and responsible in the Rebels series and I swear I was watching a different person on screen. Also she is a major Sabine enabler and that needs to stop. Sabine is grown and needs to grow up and fix her attitude.

3.) Anakin’s Role In the Show

Now don’t get me wrong, I love Hayden and I love Anakin, I have the dude tattooed on me for Force sake so don’t come at me for that, but I had some issues on how his character was used here. First, I’m tired of Ahsoka’s relevance to Anakin being the only defining trait about her. Second, I’m continuously annoyed by Anakin’s lack of accountability in these shows; he never once apologizes to Ahsoka for all that’s happened, he never once’s has a meaningful conversation with her; he just basically beats her down until she finally lets go of her past. Did I love the Clone Wars flashbacks! YES! They were my favorite part of the entire show and I want MORE of that; but I so wish Anakin could have been reflecting on his own actions with Ahsoka instead of being like “Is ThAt WhAt ThIs Is AbOuT?” Like come on 🙄

4.) Ahsoka’s “It’s Time To Move On” Line

Are you kidding me Ahsoka? There is still so much more to unpack with her past such as all the other relationships she’s had that completely changed her trajectory like BARRISS and REX and she could also be a mentor figure to Luke and Leia, etc. But nope the only thing that matters is getting over Anakin and all is well despite being stranded in another galaxy and Thrawn being unleashed back home. Like THIS IS NOT OKAY!

5.) The Cheap Ass Production of this Show

I’m not normally one to comment on production but it was so obvious in this show how many corners were cut. For one characters like Thrawn look god awful. Dude looking like a blue Elon Musk instead of an intimidating villain. The use of fog and the volume were very obvious and the places we went to were so boring minus the red leaves forest. The worlds of Star Wars used to be so cool and otherworldly but that’s not the case nowadays and it’s sad. Also why does Force ghost Anakin look better in the 2000’s than it does now? I prefer quality over quantity so I really wish Disney would quit churning out these cheaply made productions and have the audacity to rise their Disney plus subscriptions and not pay their people well.

6.) THE RACISM

I’m so fucking tired of this y’all! 🤬 of course make the Jewish actor in the shipyard be greedy and power hungry. Of course make the Asian Senator the asshole and not any of the white protagonists. The antisemitism and racism against POC is unacceptable to me and it should be unacceptable to you too.

Conclusion

I’m sure I’m missing some talking points but these are my biggest grips and as an Ahsoka fan I’m disappointed. Being a miserable Jedi not Jedi responsible for bringing a new evil into the galaxy but being content being stranded in another galaxy is not the future I believe Ahsoka deserves and I sincerely hope they don’t continue this story. It’s just bad all around. Except for the Loth cats… the Loth cats can stay. And Clone Wars flashbacks.

#ahsoka #ahsoka show critical #darth felonious #anti dave feloni #ahsoka critical #ahsoka tano #anakin skywalker #barriss offee #the clone wars #star wars #star wars meta #anti sabine wren #hera syndulla #sabine wren #captain rex #ezra bridger

[sunbaby01]

You and me

JJ Maybank x Reader

How ‘you and me’ became their thing.

The first time he taught her to surf was the first time she’d heard it, having managed to stay on for longer than 30 seconds before plunging into the water his voice filled her ears, shouting it through cupped hands “that’s it! It’s you and me baby!” He cheered paddling out on his own board to join her.

The second time was a completely different situation, she’d gotten a boyfriend, some boy from school who was, in JJs eyes, clearly undeserving of her. JJ had turned up for their weekly movie night at her house only to stumble over his words when he answered the door. Which led to the argument on her front lawn saying he was being replaced “it’s supposed to be you and me” he refused to cry getting annoyed as his body betrayed him letting a single tear fall. They didn’t talk for a week.

The third time it was her crying waiting at the chateau. “Baby?” Hearing the concern in his voice, she looked up, saw him and practically ran to him, him catching her without a second thought. “He cheated” she mumbled and his grip on her tightened, “it’s okay…I got you baby, it’s you and me” he head her, making a mental note to pay the boy a visit later.

The fourth time was when they’d left the Pogues with a sinking Twinkie and got convinced to take Luke to a boat so he could finally leave- so JJ could finally be free. She and Luke being left in the car wasn’t a good idea, JJ realised as much when he stepped out the store and caught the backend of her elbowing his dad in the face. He couldn’t help but smirk pretending he’d seen nothing until Luke had finally gone and he mumbled apology after apology. “JJ don’t be silly, he’s gone now, it’s you and me okay?”

The fifth time is when they’d stole the cross, her head buried into JJ’s back with her arms around his chest as he sped to catch up to Toppers truck shouting at the driver to drive straight. “I need you to jump for me okay?” He nodded towards the back of the truck where Kie was already sat.

“J-“ she wasn’t convinced.

“I’m just gonna distract them then I’ll meet you okay? I promise” she jumped at the perfect time and watched as JJ sped the other day smashing the cops window with a rock. Topper tried to keep up with him speeding and swerving until they were coming under the bridge JJ was driving across. That was until his bike hit the side and flew over smashing into all these pieces with no JJ in sight. Everyone rushed out the truck, even Topper, but no one let out a cry of anguish the way she did as she looked at the bike debris in front of her. Too caught up crying she didn’t hear feet shuffling out from the bushes, “I wish I could say that was intentional” he took a breath, “but that was the gnarliest power slide I’ve ever done”

She turned around as tears leaked from her eyes. He was okay. A little cut and bruised but alive. She didn’t hesitate before running towards him as he let out an oof when their bodies collided in a hug, just when he was about to wrap his arms around her she pulled away. “You don’t fucking do that to me ever again, you could’ve died. You could’ve died and I hadn’t gotten to tell you I love you” she said between hitting his shoulder, not enough to hurt him but just enough to emphasise her point.

“I’m here, I’m sorry, I’m alive, I’m here” he repeated pulling her back into his arms whispering in her ear, “I love you it’s you and me, I love you”

“You and me” they promised one another, sealing it with a kiss.

#jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fanfiction #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank #outer banks x y/n #outer banks x reader #outer banks fic #outer banks fanfiction #obx fic #obx fanfiction #rudy pankow

[sallowsunshine]

love triangle between reader, sebastian, and garreth weasley? Maybe things come to a head during a “friendly” quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor

LOVEEE THIS- Year 6, things have smoothed out. It’s a normal year so far and quidditch is back! I’m going to use Hufflepuff as the house for reader, just so she’s not pulled to support one or the other based on house loyalty (Also posted here)

By Your Side (Sebastian SallowxReader)

The Great Hall was buzzing louder than usual, the students chatting excitedly with one another. Quidditch was back after being canceled last year, and the first friendly match was today, between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Tryouts ended early last week, and you were the backup seeker for Hufflepuff. You wouldn’t see much playing time until you could prove yourself, but you understood. It was only really your second year at Hogwarts, and your second year flying on a broom.

You were sandwiched between Poppy and Adelaide at the Hufflepuff table eating breakfast. “Who are you going to cheer for today?” Poppy nudged your shoulder with a smirk on her face. “Team Garreth or Team Sebastian?”

You roll your eyes. “I’ve decided I’d be a bad friend if I picked one or the other, therefore I am cheering for both of them.”

The doors open with a bang and the Slytherin table starts cheering as their Quidditch team enters. Some boos come from the Gryffindor end. You join in on the cheers, clapping your hands while you search for your friend amongst all the green. You finally spot Sebastian, his eyes searching the Hufflepuff table until they land on you. You smile and give him a little wave. He grins widely and gives you a big wave back. This is the first time you’ve seen him in his uniform. He’d grown a bit over the summer, now standing almost a foot taller than you. You’re glad to see him smiling, as it was so rare these days, after what happened last year. You were the one to suggest trying out for Quidditch. He had made the team his fourth year, it was canceled his fifth, and after everything that had happened, he wasn’t going to try out again, but you insisted if he had something like a hobby to practice and improve at, it would be a welcome distraction.

Before the team even finishes taking their seats, the doors are thrown open again, cheers erupting from the Gryffindor table. You clap again, and immediately spot Garreth’s Weasley red hair from the Quidditch players entering the Great Hall. He catches your eye and winks.

“He’s coming over here!” Poppy smacks your shoulder.

“Ouch! Poppy, quite it.”

Garreth approaches you with one hand behind his back. “How’s my favorite potions partner doing?”

“Hi, Garreth.” you stand up and smile. “Are you ready for the game today?”

“I am, indeed. I’ve brought these for you, hoping your good luck will rub off on me today.” He pulls his arm out from behind him and presents her with a small bouquet of red and yellow roses tied with a gold bow. Some of the girls around the tables gasp.

“Oh Garreth, that is very kind of you.” you smile and take them from him.

“I’ve got to join my team now, but I hope to see you out there.” he winks again and leaves.

You sit back down, a bit embarrassed he gave you flowers in front of your entire house. You knew Garreth liked you, based on the relentless flirting, but he had yet to ask you out. You also had a feeling Sebastian liked you too, but he was a bit harder to read. The two of you had been through so much together from the moment you met, and you cherished your friendship with him beyond anything else. You didn’t want to jeopardize it by telling him you had feelings for him if he didn’t reciprocate them. If Garreth actually asked you out, you would decide to come to the conclusion that you and Sebastian were only meant to be friends.

“How cute!” Poppy gushes in your ear. “Oh, don’t look now, but Sebastian’s watching you.”

You feel even more embarrassed to know that he saw Garreth give you flowers.

-

Sebastian entered the Great Hall with the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team, the adrenalin from excitement and anticipation pumping through his veins. His eyes scanned first to the Slytherin table where he sees Ominis and Anne sitting together. They still had not been able to find a cure for Anne, but they found a spell that eased her pain enough to come back to Hogwarts. She still had to take days off to rest, but Sebastian was just glad she could be back at school. They still weren’t on good terms, but he knew it would take time for her and Ominis to come around. Next, he gazes over the Hufflepuff table. He finds you in the mix of black and yellow and sees you. You smile and wave, and he grins and waves back. It’s been hard, his best friend and his twin giving him the cold shoulder. But you- you were a light in the shadows. You were the warmth of the sun. You hadn’t given up on him. He knew you were still hesitant with your trust, but you stayed by his side despite what he did.

Sebastian takes his seat and boos with the other Slytherins when Gryffindor’s team enters the Great Hall. He sees a redhead break off from the others and head toward the Hufflepuff table. It’s Garreth Weasley. Sebastian’s eyes narrow. Weasley is headed straight for you, and from his angle, Sebastian sees the red and yellow flowers behind his back.

Sebastian bought his backup quidditch top in hopes that you would wear it and show your support for Slytherin (and him) but it looks like Garreth beat him to it. He tucks it away, no chance he’ll be able to give it to you now. He eats his breakfast, trying to think about the game and not about you.

-

“Sebastian, wait up!” You call out. The two teams were heading out to the Quidditch Pitch to start warming up. He stops and turns, looking for who called him. You jog to catch up.

“I didn’t get to wish you luck!” you say bashfully, avoiding eye contact.

“I saw Weasley give you flowers”, Sebastian blurts out. “Did you wish him luck, too?”

“Oh, yeah, he did. And I did. There’s nothing wrong with wishing both of my friends luck.” you say, a bit defensive.

“Well you might as well cheer for Gryffindor, those half-witted gits,” Sebastian grumbles.

“Okay, Sebastian, that was not necessary.” you cross your arms. “You’re my friend too. One of my closest friends. Of course, I’m going to cheer for you.”

“I- thank you.” Sebastian backs out, cooling down for a moment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get upset. Imelda’s got the whole team worked up over this game.”

“It’s okay, I understand.” you smile, and before you can chicken out, you move forward up on your tiptoes to kiss him softly on the cheek.

“That’s for good luck,” you say, backing up. “See you after the match!” you run back towards the castle.

-

The Hufflepuff is gone before he can find his voice, but he moves his hand to his face, fingertips brushing where her lips touched his cheek. A smile graces his face, and then he mentally smacks himself when remembers the uniform top he meant to give you. That would have been a perfect time.

-

The pitch is practically shaking from all the cheering, stomping, and yelling. Gryffindor and Slytherin are tied, the golden snitch nowhere to be spotted. Sebastian and the other Beater have been playing good defense, Sebastian sticking by Imelda, their best Chaser (probably the best Chaser to come from Hogwarts), and protecting her from the incoming Bludgers.

Sebastian can’t believe Garreth made Beater for the Gryffindor team.

All game, he’s been taunting Sebastian, knocking brooms with him, or swatting the Buldger at him. It’s thrown his focus totally off, but luckily he has yet to make a major mistake. It’s difficult to do when Imelda keeps threatening him with violence if he doesn’t straighten out and do his job.

Imelda calls out a code for one of their formations and he zips over to line up with his teammates and protect her as she flies with the Quaffle toward the three rings. She scores easily and the crowd’s roars are deafening. The adrenaline high brings a smile to Sebastian’s face. A flash of red zips up by him- Weasley.

“Nice trick, Sallow, but it won’t win the game for you.” Weasley taunts. “Speaking of tricks, I’ve got one that I think our little Hufflepuff friend will like, if you know what I mean, eh?” he chuckles, and Sebastian fumes.

“Don’t you talk that way about her, Weasley. She’s not your girl.” Sebastian calls over.

“I’m only having a bit of fun, lighten up, Sallow. If you care that much, you’d make her your girl before anyone else finds the guts.”

Sebastian’s grip on his broom tightens. “Sallow, on your right!” A teammate calls out, and he barely reacts in time to hit the flying Bludger away towards the Gryffindor Chaser in possession of the Quaffle.

“Pay attention, Sebastian,” Imelda growls from behind him. “We need you at your best if we’re to beat Gryffindor today. Just then, the crowd erupts into cheers, and the two Seekers speed by. They must have spotted the Snitch.

“Go! We need to stop them from catching the Snitch” Imelda commands, and Sebastian pushes forward to pick up speed, his bat at the ready.

Weasley is once again by his side, matching Sebastian’s speed. “You think she’ll give me a congratulatory kiss when Gryffindor wins this match?”

“Bugger off, Weasley.” Sebastian leans in and knocks his broom against Garreth’s.

Chaos erupts with the two Seekers being mere feet ahead, also knocking into one another, their arms extended forward, grasping for the Snitch. Sebastian tries to focus on the task at hand, but Weasley’s struck his last nerve.

His eyes are so focused on Weasley, he misses when everyone else ducks down. Panic raises as he yanks himself down, but he doesn’t quite make it, the tip of his broom catching one of the barriers of the pitch. It throws him off his broom, and he’s falling ten feet to the ground. Everything goes dark.

-

You’re in the stands with Anne and Ominis, binoculars at your eyes, giving Ominis a verbal playback of everything that’s happening.

“They’ve spotted the Snitch!” you say, grabbing Ominis’ wrist in excitement.

“Who?”

“Sorry, both Seekers are after it. There goes Sebastian and Garreth, I think they’re going to try to clobber the Seekers! Oh- no, I can’t see them anymore, they’ve disappeared underneath the Pitch- oh there they are again- oh wait- I’ve lost them, nope- there they are- and-” You stop suddenly and gasp, wordlessly watching as Sebastian loses control of his broom. You pull away your binoculars but you still see his body fall and crash toward the ground.

“I’ve got to go!” You race out of the stands.

“Wait what happen-” You don’t hear the rest of Ominis’ question, you’re pushing past students, taking the stairs down to the bottom two at a time, hopping over the railings.

You reach the entrance to the pitch, the game continuing since no foul had been called. The crowd’s uproar is deafening, one of the Seekers must have caught the Snitch, but you don’t care. Pushing your way on to the pitch, you’re by Sebastian’s side in an instant.

“Sebastian!” You cry out, scared to touch him, scared of how injured he could be. He doesn’t react, his eyes closed, but he’s moaning in pain, curled up in the fetal position. He stops moving, probably passed out from the pain.

“He needs the nurse! Someone get Nurse Blainey!” you scream, but only a few are paying attention, everyone is focused on the win and the end of the game.

-

Sebastian wakes up in one of the beds of the Hospital Wing, his ribs and one arm bandaged up. The windows are dark, it must be nighttime. His mind is hazy, and it takes him a minute to recall the last memories before blacking out. The impact rushes back fresh into his mind and he cringes in pain, squeezing his unbandaged hand. It startles him when he realized that his hand isn’t empty, but another is gently holding his four fingers. He turns his head, and there you are, curled up in a chair next to his bed, your hand extended out, holding his. You’re fast asleep, still, wearing the previous day’s clothes, but there’s another addition Sebastian didn’t see that morning. His house scarf is draped around your neck. You had a bad habit of stealing his scarf, claiming it to be warmer than your own, but he didn’t believe you. He never asked for it back the last time you borrowed it, and you must have worn it for the match.

It brings a smile to Sebastian’s face. Garreth was wrong, he’d already made you his girl. Sebastian just hadn’t realized it himself, until now, seeing you stay by his side throughout the night. Until now, seeing you wearing his scarf.

Sebastian squeezes your hand, trying to wake you up gently. Your eyes flutter open.

“Sebastian?” you whisper. “Oh Sebastian, are you okay? How do you feel?” you sit up quickly. “That was a nasty fall.”

Sebastian tries to speak but finds his throat too dry to get words out. Instead, he grunts in pain, trying to sit up.

“Don’t- No, don’t move. Or speak. You might hurt yourself further.” You jump into action. “Let me get you some water.”

Sebastian lays back and closes his eyes. There’s so much he wants to say to you, but he’s in too much pain. Those words will have to wait. For now, he lets you take care of him, and he feels a weight off his shoulders, knowing with you by his side, everything will be okay.

#sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy #my writing #by your side

[honey-milk-depresso]

19 Reasons (Tim Drake x Reader)

It’s Tim’s birthday in my timezone, so I’m writing my first ever DC Comic post- yes- fiNALLY-

Summary: You said you wished your turning 19 year old Tim “Happy Womb Escape” by presenting a slideshow titled “19 reasons why I love Tim Drake.”

☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️

“Guess what day it is?”

“19 July?” He didn’t even bat an eye, busy typing away on his computer without a care in the world.

“Seriously? Okay stop working,” you closed his laptop and shove it away to a corner, “you literally forget it’s your birthday today?”

He looks at you nonchalantly before crossing his arms with an eyebrow raised. “Well, it’s not that important?”

You gasped in horror, dramatically rolling up to his chest with your hand pressed to your forehead and the other clutching your heart. “ ‘Not important’? My own boyfriend saying his birthday is ‘not important’? Non!”

He rolled his eyes, playfully and lightly shoving you away as he smirked. You grinned.

“I’m going to show you why it’s important with this slideshow!” You placed your own laptop on his lap, the monitor flashing a slideshow titled “19 Reasons Why I Love Tim Drake”.

“Oh god. This is gonna be fun,” he joked.

“Before that, I would just like to say,” you started, clicking to the next slide, “ ‘Happy Womb Escape’ to you, Drake.”

“Wait wha-”

“Now first reason!” You clicked to the next slide, cutting your baffled vigilante as you cleared your throat to perform your lines.

“Number one! He’s Red Robin, Gotham’s best vigilante out there! Ain’t I ever seen another like him!”

“There’s Bruce, Dick, Jason, Cass, Steph, Lu-”

“STOP- THERE IS NO ONE LIKE YOU!” You groaned in frustration, making Tim chuckle. “Yeah but I’m basically just like them.”

“I ain’t see someone who single-handedly took down the Joker? Obeah Man? Got rid of the booty shorts of Robin? That’s a crime, by the way.” You said it in a “matter-of-fact” way. He snorted.

“Secondly! He’s the most hardworking man I know! But also he needs rest so take notes. Third! He’s the biggest, dorkiest dork on earth who loves machines, science, and he googles the most random things on the internet just to give me a fun fact later on out of the blue!”

“Fourth! His hair is fluffy as hell and it makes him very nice to pat on the head! Fifth! He’s a nerd! And that’s cute! Sixth, Tim is the smartest man I’ve ever met. I bet he could find the last digit of Pi in like 2 seconds in his brain. Seventh!”

Tim smiled warmly, soon becoming smug the more you went on with your points. He looked so proud.

“Seventh, is that he’s a bisexual icon! Enough said. Eighth! He lends me his sweaters and they all smell like him which is the nice part.”

“You stole them, you mean?”

“Shhhh, let the presenter speak. Anyways, ninth! Timmy bringing me to a burger joint on our first date and he didn’t judge me for it. I’ll tell you something I didn’t until now: I was pretty scared you judged me but you didn’t. So thank god.”

“I always judge you, Y/N, it’s alright,” Tim smirked. You looked at him with a frown, not amused. “Yeah, okay never mind, I should take this slide down.”

“Hey!” He said, grinning as wide as you were. “Next! Tenth! He watches over me even when he’s on patrol to make sure I’m safe!”

“You… know? I thought I was pretty well hidden…” he blinked in surprise.

“Tim, you may be a detective and that’s exactly the point. It doesn’t take some of your skills to rub off of me,” again, you said it as a matter-of-fact.

“Eleventh! He’s a skater boy, and he’s my ‘Skater Boi’,” Tim once again snorted, much louder upon understanding that pop culture reference.

“Twelfth, he loves watching old, 80s to 90s cheesy movies and geeks out about them all the time while we’re watching! Don’t ever shut up, by the way. Thirteenth! He always fidgets with his fingers and hands when he’s bored subconsciously! That in itself is adorable.”

“Fourteenth! He’s a terrible cook, but he still tries anyways. It’s also adorable~” He rolled his eyes, folding his arms.

“Wow, I feel so loved.”

“Yesh, and I love you very much as well, Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne,” you teased. He scoffed lightly. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Fifteenth! He is the best cross-dresser. That is all. Sixteenth! HE IS THE WORLD’S GREATEST DETECTIVE! Like he found Waldo every 2 seconds, finished 5 books of him in 1 minute,” you said, doing an amateur explosion side effect by saying “kaploosh” with your hands doing the mind-blown action.

“Again, Bruce and everyone else in my family.”

“Again, there is no one like you, Detective Tim. Seventeenth! Best photographer! Also enough said! Love everything you take, sweetie! Eighteenth! He makes using a metal stick look badass!”

“And lastly! Nineteenth! Drum roll please!” You use your knuckles to lightly drum against the wooden floors. “He’s Tim Drake! What’s not to love?” You smiled. It was so contagious that he found himself smiling as stupid and gleefully as you did.

He had always been insecure of his abilities and himself in general, so he was so flustered and gooey on the inside with how genuine you were with each point. Although, his flustered-ness was showing with pink blooming on his cheeks.

“Okay, guess I understand why my birthday’s important now.”

“Glad you understood my report, Mr Drake!” You smiled at him.

“So now I shall say,” you drum-rolled again, quickly tossing your arms around him and lightly pecked his cheek with a grin.

“I love you, Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne.”

He smiled at you lovingly, cupping your cheek as he gently brushed his thumb against it. “And I love you, too, YF/N L/N. Thanks for your birthday gift.”

You laughed sweetly. “The gift is you, technically~”

☘️☘️☘️☘️☘️

Reblogs help! ^^

#tim drake #tim drake x reader #dc comics x reader #red robin #red robin x reader #batfam #batfamily #happy birthday tim drake #ITS HIS BIRTHDAYYYSJAJDJJF #dc comics fluff #fluff #oneshot #x reader fluff #x reader oneshot #x reader #self insert #gn reader #love this boy💕💕 #dc comics

[thefrontofmymind]

Baby Bug

a/n: this was supposed to be just a little drabble but it...evolved. hope you enjoy xx

SYNOPSIS: a slice of life from your pregnancy with yours and Matty's first baby

WARNINGS: pregnancy stuff (obvi), the smallest allusion to sex (what do you expect, babies have to get made somehow), epidural.

WC: 1.7k

It certainly wasn’t the perfect time for you to get pregnant. You were well on your way for a promotion at work, and Matty’s new album was just about finished and ready to be sent off, in preparation for a world tour. It wasn’t like it’d never be on the cards for you–you were both in your thirties and not flat broke so it was only a matter of convenient timing for you.

Though as you were sitting on your bathroom floor with the positive test–the fifth one you’d taken that day just to be one hundred percent sure–there was a part of it all that just felt right. There were butterflies in your stomach–and not just from the constant nausea you’d been experiencing for the past couple weeks, but excitement.

You couldn’t even think of a cute or witty way to tell Matty like you’d seen a thousand times on Instagram and Tiktok, you just needed to get it out. As soon as he came home from the studio that day you greeted him at the door with a giddy smile on your face.

“What’s up with you?” He said after giving you a gentle kiss as he took off his coat.

“You know how I’ve been sick recently?” He nodded, giving a ‘hmm’ in response. “I figured out why today…”

“Was it a bug like I said?” He laughed.

“No…It’s um-” This was it. “It’s a baby…”

He looked up at you in shock–wide eyes and a gasp. “You’re…You’re?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, as did his. “I am….”

He fell to his knees, he was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. You couldn’t help but let out a giggle as he grabbed your hips and cradled your stomach.

He laughed as you felt your tshirt begin to become wet with his tears. “Oh, you’re the best kind of bug!” 

~~~

From that moment on, Matty waited on you hand and foot. If he could have it his way, you wouldn’t have to even think about housework or cooking or any other task that may float into your head–which was growing more and more cloudy by the day. Your obstetrician told you it was perfectly normal though, you liked to think it was the baby taking all your brains so they could become a supergenius–wouldn’t that be neat? Any time Matty was home, you were delegated to the sofa, with your feet up and whatever show you were currently bingeing. And as your baby grew, the more grateful you became of his efforts for you to relax. And when he wasn’t home, he was just waiting to be by your side again, doting on you as much as he could–including quenching any craving you had, food and otherwise.

“How’s the bug doing?” He said, getting comfortable next to you on the sofa.

“They’re alright, been moving non stop…I think they’re training for a boot camp or something in there…”

“Hey, you!” He wiggled down so his face was level with your ever-growing bump. “Stop giving your mum a hard time! She’s growing you, for Christ’s sake…”

You felt an extra hard kick, an answer of ‘I’ll do whatever I please, thank you’

~~~

When it began to get closer to your second trimester–and you were convinced you were showing, as deluded as you may have been–you and Matty started to think about how you were telling everyone you loved about your happy news. To you, being able to let your loved ones in on your secret and seeing their reactions was something you’d been itching for.

First was the grandparents, over a small brunch one Sunday morning. On your back patio you gave them a box to open all together, containing the pictures from your twelve week scan. Through their tears, they told you all about how ecstatic they were for you.

“A grandmother! Me!” Denise laughed. “I’m too young!” You all joined in on the laughter.

When it came to telling the band, you had more of a strategy. You decided to tell Adam and Carly first–they were parents, themselves, and probably knew all the answers to the questions you both had concerning, well, just about everything to come over the next six months–and beyond.

You’d called in at theirs one afternoon, just for a cup of tea and a catch up. It shocked just how much their son had grown within the few weeks it had been since you saw him last, he was up and walking and almost like a proper person now. And he just wouldn’t leave you alone all afternoon. Every toy he’d go to play with, he’d want to show you, when he wanted one of the muffins you’d brought–picked up from a bakery on the drive over–he wanted to share it with you.

“Someone’s got a new favourite!” Adam said after the fifth time he brought you a drawing of some nondescript blob crafted with every colour marker he had at his disposal.

“You know what they say about little kids…” You started, earning confused looks from the couple, while Matty just grinned. “They’re really good at sensing things…Like…Well…”

“Oh just say it before I do!” Matty interrupted after a brief moment of stuttering from you.

“I’m pregnant!” You finally got out. 

Carly immediately burst into tears, while congratulating you with a warm hug, then Adam did the same–sans tears.

“How far along are you?” Carly asked excitedly.

“Just thirteen weeks,” Matty answered for you, as you could hardly speak from the smile that pulled at your mouth. “We’ve only told the grandparents, apart from that, you guys are the first to know.”

You saw a glint of a tear in Adam’s eye as he went to hug Matty, and Carly asked you about pretty much everything so far, giving you some handy tips to keep in mind.

Once you got used to telling a few people, it was a cake walk. You told the rest of the band at a dinner you held. It sort of just slipped out when George asked you why you didn’t have a glass of wine like normal, the whole room erupted in congratulations.

~~~

When the time came for your twenty week scan, you were a bundle of nerves. This would be the first proper time you'd be able to see your baby in all their glory, arms and legs and ears and eyelids, the whole shebang. The technician would be checking for physical abnormalities and–if you wanted to know–the sex of the baby.

You spoke with Matty about it, and ultimately decided that you would wait for the surprise of the sex for when the bug was born. It wouldn’t really make much of a difference for you both, you didn’t have a preference and you liked the idea of not going with a stereotypical blue or pink colour scheme–and at least this way, no one would pester you to tell them, because you couldn’t.

But your spine was practically jelly as you laid on the cold bed with a metal wand being prodded as hard as humanly possible. As you saw the outline of a face and you heard the heartbeat–much stronger than at your twelve week scan a few months back. When the technician asked you both if you would like to know the sex, you felt your heart ache.

“I, uh-” You started, quietly. “I kind of want to know…” Matty let out a sigh. “Oh thank god because I want to know too!”

The technician laughed. “It’s a…drumroll please….” Matty patted his lap, making a drumroll sound. “You’re having a…boy!”

At the news you couldn’t stop yourself from bursting into tears. Your emotions had gone into overdrive in the past couple weeks, you practically cried at everything these days.

“We’re gonna have a son…” Matty said, looking at the screen with tears in his eyes. “A little boy…”

~~~

“I hope he has your hair…” You said, laying on your bed rubbing your bump in an attempt to soothe your ever-so-active baby boy so you could possibly get at least half an hour of sleep–which was a more and more rare occurrence the further you got into your pregnancy. 

Matty scoffed. “Could you imagine?”

“You’d be twins!” You laughed.

“I hope he looks like you,” he said, putting an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side–as best he could with the bump growing out of your front. “He’d be the most beautiful baby in the world then.”

“Oh shut up, you,” you said, playfully batting his chest.

~~~

Your third trimester was a battle to say the least. With swollen feet, a sore back, and complete and utter exhaustion at every moment of the day, you were ready for your bug to make his entrance into the world. 

But he wasn’t. Your due date came and went, and you remained pregnant and irritable. You spent most of the day afterwards in bed, mostly on the verge of tears. You became so overwhelmed by the whole thing, you were so, so tired but you knew this was the most rested you’d be for months, with a newborn baby to keep you up for most of the coming nights.

You had an appointment with your obstetrician, but you hardly noticed–you were practically a zombie by then.

“I’ll book you in for an induction then?” She asked once she got a look at you in all your misery, scrolling and clicking around on her laptop. “I can do 3 days from now which would be…” She checked her calendar. “Next Tuesday. Sounds alright?”

You’d never been more animated than with your nodding. “Please…Just get this baby out of me!” You laughed.

Three days. You could feasibly do three more days if it meant you’d finally have your baby bug in your arms. You just had to stick it out.

~~~

After you were induced, your labour was shockingly quick. There was barely time for an epidural–which you had to beg the nurse to give you when she was tentative about it, given how quickly you were dilating. After only about 3 hours of active labour, your baby bug was swaddled and sleeping in a bassinet by your side.He was very fortunate, he looked exactly like his dad–who, for the record, was sleeping curled up on an old hospital chair next to his son. You looked at your boys, both sleeping peacefully, curly hair and shielded chocolate brown eyes. You couldn’t help but shed a tear at the realisation that you’d somehow gotten the most perfect life.

#matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #matty healy drabble #matty healy fluff

[blushy-tigerrr]

Saved By The Bell - Naruto Tickle Fic

Fandom: Naruto Shippuden

Summary: During the second bell test, Naruto makes an interesting discovery about his Sensei.

Content Warning: mild language

Word Count: 2.7k

Author's Note: it has been SO LONG since i last wrote a fic so i'm v nervous about posting this, but i am pretty proud of it! i hope you enjoy!

Naruto and Sakura ducked behind a tree, breathing heavily as they tried to recover some energy from all of the failed attempts at retrieving the bells from Kakashi. Their brains were moving a mile a minute, trying desperately to figure out a new tactic. It’s been about three years since the first time they had tried to do this, and as strong as the two of them have gotten in that time, it was still incredibly difficult. It didn’t help that the pressure was up this time as Lady Tsunade, the Fifth Hokage and Sakura’s mentor, and Jiraiya, Naruto’s mentor, were watching and evaluating their fight. With the extra amount of pressure they were feeling, the two of them couldn’t help but wonder if they had even progressed much at all.

Kakashi, however, felt the amount of growth his students had achieved. As opposed to last time they fought him like this, he wasn’t daring to let even a little bit of his guard down. He knew how much stronger Naruto and Sakura had become, and because of this, he knew he’d be defeated easily if he relaxed for even a second. Even so, he couldn’t fully keep his mind away from his new “Make-Out Tactics” book that Naruto had brought him. He’d never dare to start reading while facing opponents like these, but the desire was there, and it was strong.

Naruto sighed, his breath becoming steadier. “Man, that Kakashi is ridiculously strong. I mean, he’s smarter than Shikamaru, he has a better sense of smell than Kiba, his Sharingan is better than Sasuke’s, his Taijutsu is better than Lee’s… and he’s got way more experience than us.”

“You’re right, but even so…” Sakura interjected curiously, “even he must have a weakness.” She squinted her eyes as if to see the possibilities written out in front of her. “We just have to think about it…”

“A weakness, huh?” Naruto wondered aloud, joining Sakura and becoming deep in thought. He cycled through every fight he’s seen Kakashi in, trying to figure out what his weakness could possibly be. It was hard to find the answer with an opponent so strong. Maybe, his weakness wasn’t a physical thing, like a blind spot. Maybe… Naruto gasped suddenly. “I’ve got it!”

Sakura’s head whipped towards Naruto in surprise, her brow slightly furrowed. “Really? You know Kakashi’s weakness? Tell me!” She leaned in, prompting him to whisper so no one would overhear their plotting. Naruto stifled a giggle, playing out his ridiculous plan in his head.

“Sakura, think about it for a minute. If you really look back at all of Kakashi Sensei’s actions, you’ll know what I’m thinking of.” Naruto smirked, waiting for Sakura to think of it, too. She did think very hard, in fact. Alas, she wasn’t able to see it the way that Naruto did so clearly. He beckoned her close to him and whispered his plan into her ear. As the words left his mouth, her face switched from a confused expression into a wide, scheming smile.

“Oh, I get it now! Naruto, that’s a genius idea!” She exclaimed, feeling her hands begin to shake in excitement. “You really are the most unpredictable knucklehead ninja I’ve ever met.” Naruto growled, lightly smacking Sakura in the arm, making her laugh.

“Hey! How dare you call me a knucklehead when I just came up with that amazing plan! You said it yourself, it was genius.” He smirked, crossing his arms in a playfully arrogant way. Sakura rolled her eyes at his actions.

“No matter how many great plans you come up with, you’ll always be a knucklehead to me, Naruto.” She teased. Naruto copied her eye roll, still smirking.

“Whatever. Let’s just go before Kakashi Sensei starts getting suspicious.” He began to move noiselessly in Kakashi’s direction, Sakura close behind him. They both focused on their movements, making sure to draw no attention to themselves while also making their way through the trees as quickly as possible. Before they knew it, they were crouched behind a bush about thirty feet away from Kakashi.

Kakashi couldn’t sense their presence yet, but his guard was very much up, anticipating a sneak attack from a direction that wouldn’t be expected. He would never admit it to his two students, but he started to feel a bit nervous. He couldn’t place exactly why. All he knew is that he should be expecting the unexpected. But then he wondered, what could be so unexpected that it warranted him feeling this nervous? When he saw his two students appear from behind a bush, that was when the nerves really started to kick in. They couldn’t possibly think a head-on attack would work, could they?

“Huh… attacking me head-on like this. Are you sure that’s the best course of action?” Kakashi questioned his students, keeping his voice even as he readied his defensive stance. The two stood before him, and Kakashi couldn’t miss the eagerness in their stances. What on Earth did they have planned?

“Now, Naruto!” Sakura’s sudden exclamation prompted the two of them to jump into the air, diving slowly towards Kakashi. He couldn’t help but gain a confused look. All three of them knew that Kakashi could destroy them easily in a frontal attack like this. He stood, still ready to attack at any moment, but he watched them closely, analyzing every movement down to the tiniest muscle twitch.

“Alright, Kakashi Sensei…” Naruto started to speak as they continued to descend. Kakashi cocked his head to the side slightly, surprised that he’d use a moment like this for conversational language. “At the end of ‘Make-Out Tactics’…”

Oh. Oh.

Those words sent a chill down Kakashi’s spine. There was no way Naruto was resorting to such a dirty trick. Spoiling the ending of the book he had just received that day? What kind of a monster did he train?! Kakashi covered his ears out of instinct, preventing himself from hearing any more of Naruto’s words. He kept his eyes locked on their movements, but then he realized…

“As it happens, the main character…” No! He could still read Naruto’s lips because of his Sharingan! His eyes clamped shut, determined not to find out any spoilers that Naruto might have known. He was also Jiraiya’s student, and he’s the author of these books, after all. It was more likely than not that Naruto knew exactly how this book went, and Kakashi would rather lose this fight than have his favorite series spoiled for him.

Kakashi felt a sudden jab at his right side, close to his hip. His eyes shot open with a gasp, as his hands flew down to protect himself from… that. Much to his dismay, the jabs kept coming one after another. He felt his face begin to flush in embarrassment as he choked back the laughter that was about to come out of his mouth. There was no way he was letting his students learn both of his weaknesses in the same day.

“Damn it, where the hell are they?!” A familiar voice mumbled to no one in particular. Kakashi looked down to see that the culprit of the pokes was none other than Naruto. He was obviously searching for something… wait. “Where are they? Where are the bells?!” Naruto’s hands kept searching as Kakashi felt his defenses begin to crumble. He inhaled deeply and held his breath. He could not, would not let this happen. Not in front of the Fifth Hokage herself.

When Naruto’s hands reached the bottom of his ribs, Kakashi felt himself involuntarily move away from the poking. This made Naruto stop what he was doing and stare curiously at his teacher. Kakashi stared back, his eyes a little bit wider than normal. His heart rate began to increase when he saw a devious glint in Naruto’s eyes. Naruto reached out to land another poke into Kakashi’s ribs, eliciting a quiet yelp from the older.

“Say, Kakashi Sensei…” Naruto’s voice was lower than before, almost a growl. Kakashi swallowed, his face growing more flushed the closer Naruto gets to him. “You wouldn’t happen to be ticklish, would you?”

Kakashi felt his breath catch in his throat hearing those words. “Now, Naruto…” His voice had a slight tremble to it, but he tried to keep his tone calm and level. “Is this really necessary? You would have defeated me just now. We don’t need to resort to such tactics.”

Naruto chuckled, stepping even closer to Kakashi with his hands reaching out in front of him. “If you’re hiding the bells from us, then I have no other choice.” He leapt at Kakashi suddenly, attaching his fingers to his sides and digging in mercilessly. Kakashi gasped, putting his hands over Naruto’s in an attempt to push them away. He gritted his teeth to prevent any laughter from slipping out of his mouth. He was determined to keep up his stoic facade for as long as possible.

“N-Naruto, this isn’t necessary. C-come on, stop this.” Kakashi’s voice came out a bit more strained than normal as he held back his laugh. As ticklish as he was, Kakashi was able to handle this spot pretty well. As long as Naruto didn’t get any other ideas, that is. Not satisfied with the reaction he was getting, Naruto furrowed his brow in deep thought.

“I think it’s very necessary, Kakashi Sensei! If you’re unfairly hiding the bells from us, I have to find them by any means.” Naruto moved his hands up to Kakashi’s ribs, scratching each finger between each of the bones. Kakashi let out a strong exhale, still holding his laughter in, but just barely. His hands still stayed on top of Naruto’s, trying to detach his fingers from his ribs. The feeling of all ten of Naruto’s fingers wiggling in between his ribs was almost too much to handle. Naruto grinned mischievously, noticing Kakashi’s face becoming more red as the tickling continued.

“You’re really not letting up? Man, I guess I have to do it, then…” Those words from Naruto made Kakashi’s stomach do a backflip. He started to squirm underneath the tickly touch, wondering what on Earth he could have possibly thought of to escalate the situation.

“Well, as I was saying before, the main character in ‘Make-Out Tactics’…”

Kakashi gasped, covering his ears and clamping his eyes shut once more. Damn, Naruto was much better at finding his weaknesses than he’d like to admit. “N-no! I’m not listening!” Kakashi exclaimed in a panic. What he failed to consider, however, was just how vulnerable he had made himself in this one motion. Naruto chuckled, taking the chance that was given to him. He shot his now free hands up into Kakashi’s underarms.

Kakashi’s arms came crashing down as his entire body curled in on itself. The laughter that he was fighting back finally bubbled to the surface in the form of soft, hysterical giggles. His face flushed even deeper than before, feeling embarrassed about reacting in such a way, especially in front of the people that were around. As Naruto’s fingers scratched in the sensitive spot, Kakashi couldn’t help himself but squirm even more than before.

Naruto was shocked. He had never heard Kakashi laugh like this. He didn’t even know if he’d heard Kakashi laugh at all before, so to see him reduced to a giggling mess was a hilarious sight. “Wow, Kakashi Sensei! You’re way more ticklish than I would have thought!” He continued to scratch his nails in Kakashi’s underarms, causing his teacher’s laughter to slowly get louder.

“N-Narutohoho, plehehease! This ihis soho childihihihish!” Kakashi cackled, trying half heartedly to bat Naruto’s arms away from him. Could he have gotten the kid off of him easily with one swift motion? Absolutely, but to be honest, he couldn’t remember the last time he had allowed his guard to drop this much. It had to have been years since he felt himself laugh even a little bit. As embarrassing as it all was, a bigger part of it felt refreshing.

“Oh, you think this is childish? I’ll show you childish!” Naruto taunted, throwing pokes all around Kakashi’s torso, making his laughter spike up an octave. “Childish is hiding the bells from me when I beat you, fair and square!”

Kakashi’s eyes were still squeezed shut due to his loud laughter. All of a sudden, the tickling sensations increased rapidly. He felt so many different spots being targeted all at once. While the scratching in his underarms continued, he additionally felt fingers wiggling against his stomach and his ribs. Then, there was a pair of hands scratching behind his knees, forcing a surprised squeak out of Kakashi’s mouth. His legs began to shake due to the new spot being targeted. How was this even possible? He forced open his eyes and finally realized: he was being attacked by Naruto and three of his Shadow Clones.

Once he found out what had happened, Kakashi’s body surrendered to the sensations. He let unfiltered laughter flood out of his mouth as his legs finally gave out, making him end up on the ground. All four Narutos followed him down, all of their hands staying attached to the spots they were targeting. Kakashi was almost in tears laughing, completely unable to get away from the eight hands that were attacking him. “Nahahaharutoho! Plehehease, stohohohop!”

“I’ll stop as soon as you tell me where the damn bells are!” The real Naruto yelled, his three Shadow Clones laughing along.

Jingle.

Hearing that soft, familiar sound ring through the chaos made both Naruto and Kakashi freeze. All of their remaining chakra was focused in their ears, listening intently for the sound of the bells.

Jingle.

Their heads whipped around to see Sakura standing a few feet away from them, holding both of the bells, one in each hand. Kakashi felt his face pale at the sight as Naruto bolted over to grab one of the bells out of her hand with a satisfied chuckle.

“Y-you had them the whole time, Sakura?” Kakashi stammered, slowly gathering himself and getting to his feet. Sakura had a small smile on her face as she blushed a bit.

“Yeah… I’m sorry, Kakashi Sensei! I just thought… you looked like you were having fun, so I didn’t want to make you guys stop so soon.” Sakura explained sheepishly. Kakashi couldn’t help but smile at her statement, his face remaining a deep shade of pink.

“Well… you aren’t necessarily wrong.” Kakashi admitted, making both of his students stare at him in shock. He shrugged as he continued his thought. “I mean, I can’t remember the last time my body was able to relax like that, and I don’t even think either of you had ever heard me laugh before.” Naruto and Sakura looked at each other, knowing that to be true. Kakashi smiled at them before looking around the area. “Now, I have one thing to ask, and this goes for everyone here, so listen up.” As Kakashi spoke, Tsunade and Jiraiya poked their heads out of the trees, their grinning faces focused on him intently.

“What is it, Kakashi Sensei?” Naruto asked, his eyes shining with glee. Kakashi sighed, directing this statement mostly at the two Sannin.

“Please, do not tell Gai about this. He will never let me live a peaceful life with this information.” Jiraiya snickered as he and Tsunade shared a mischievous glance. 

“No promises.” Tsunade responded with a scheming smile. Kakashi sighed even deeper this time, holding his face in his hands.

“Don’t worry, Kakashi Sensei! We’ll protect your honor!” Naruto exclaimed, positioning himself in front of Kakashi, using a defensive stance.

Sakura giggled and mirrored Naruto’s actions. “Yeah! We’ll protect you no matter what!”

Kakashi smiled, grateful for the incredible Shinobi his students had become. “Thank you. Now, what do you say I treat you two to some ramen as a congratulations?” His students let out a yell of excitement, racing each other back to the village. Kakashi followed close behind them while Tsunade and Jiraiya lingered for just a moment longer.

“You’re going to tell him, aren’t you?” Jiraiya asked the Hokage.

Tsunade chuckled. “Oh, I absolutely am.”

#tickling #tickle fic #naruto tickle fic #lee!kakashi #ler!naruto #my works

[festivalsofmargot]

Illicit Affairs {Dad!Garreth Weasley x F!Professor!Reader}

AGED UP CHARACTERS, 18+ SCENARIOS (Characters are adults, graduated from Hogwarts, and are 18+)

Introduction: Garreth thinks back on his life with you, and it was far from perfect. But he’d relive every second if he had the chance. 

Word Count: ~ 13,100 (I think I’m gonna puke)

Warnings: Smut, Angst without a happy ending, Cheating, Loss

Author’s Note: Want to say right now that cheating is disgusting. This is purely a fantasy scenario. So if you get triggered by cheating I highly recommend you skip out on this fanfic. This romanticizes it and I didn’t really write the person getting cheated on as a realistic human being. More than anything, this is smut with a plot. I watched Cyberpunk: Edgerunners and I’ve never felt so empty inside. So writing this, I just felt like being sad, ya know? Like literally ruining my entire month.😃 Anyways, it’s 10 pm my time so still Wednesday for me. Bone Apple Tea Weasley Wednesday-ers! I’m going to hyperventilate and cry in bed. (Like wtf did I write this...?)

Songs (if interested):

Illicit Affairs - Taylor Swift

Little Stranger - Dawid Podsiadło

I Really Want to Stay at Your House - Rosa Walton, Hallie Coggins

Baby Teeth - Bunny Lowe

It’s My Fault - End Credits -  Roque Baños

-

Whether the warmth in Garreth Weasley’s cheeks was coming from the multiple glasses of whiskey he had or the fireplace he sat across, he wasn’t sure. But it was welcome all the same. As he looked into the flames and slouched in his chair, lightly rubbing at his chin, he thought back on his life with you.

The two of you had been the best of friends while you attended Hogwarts. The moment he asked you to sneak a fwooper feather out of Professor Sharp’s office, he had felt in his gut that you were going to be someone special. 

He had always been upset he only had three years with you at Hogwarts, and you had been too. Both of you had said “If only we met in first year.” too many times to count, but meant it every single time.

He knew it now that you had felt the same way about him. But during school, it was a constant struggle not to kiss you, especially after every dangerous outing the two of you had gone on. He had fallen hard and fast for you during his fifth year, and that infatuation never seemed to dissipate, even to this day. 

Everything about you was perfect to him, you had fit together just right. But he was afraid if he ever confessed and it turned out you hadn’t seen him in that way, he’d lose you forever. 

Thankfully, you had made the first move a few years after the two of you graduated. Merlin knows his cowardly ass never would have. That following month in Hogsmeade had easily been the best month of his life.

-

“If you’re sweet, maybe I’ll get you that discount.” Garreth said coolly to the woman with fox eyes before him, restocking some potion ingredients on the shelves.

“Are you sure sweet is what you want, Gar?” The woman flirted back, and Garreth’s body tensed at the shortened version of his name coming off her lips. He was able to keep an easy smile on his face and continue restocking, but he still didn’t like anyone else calling him that except for you.

“Fine, play coy.” She sighed playfully when he kept quiet and she made her way out. She gave him a little wave and as soon as she was out of sight, he let the smile vanish from his face. He didn’t even remember this woman’s name truth be told, thank Merlin she left before he had a chance to let that slip.

Garreth had been a little more reckless than usual these past few months. He hadn’t received a letter back from you in ages. As soon as you graduated from Hogwarts, you pursued the magizoology field while he went to work for Parry Pippin.

Garreth knew your main focus would be going after any poacher you came across rather than studying magical beasts. Try as you might to talk down what you did in your letters, he wasn’t stupid, he knew you. 

Your silence had filled him with so much dread, he was wishing more than anything you had just decided you wanted nothing to do with him anymore. He didn’t care, as long as you weren’t dead. Please Merlin, don’t be dead.

To distract himself, he dove head first into the bachelor lifestyle. Drinking and women were his main hobbies outside of J. Pippin’s Potions. Being young and handsome, living on his own, and having plenty of his own money now, he was making himself enjoy it.

Garreth was manning the store by himself that day, looking over stock and crossing items off his parchment when he heard the doorbell ring. He absently greeted whoever had just entered the shop, not taking his eyes off his list.

“Welcome to J. Pippin’s, let me know if you need help with anything.”

“Gar?”

At the sound of your voice, Garreth nearly broke his neck turning to look at you. His eyes were wide, breath hitching in his throat. 

The moment he locked eyes with you, you lost every word you had planned on saying to him. “I um… It’s good to see you again.” 

Garreth dropped everything he was holding, closing the distance between you two in only a few steps, pulling you into a tight embrace. You didn’t hesitate to hold him back, letting his warmth envelope you.

“I was worried you were dead.” He whispered into your hair as the relief washed over him.

“I nearly was.” You admitted.

Keeping his hold on you, he pulled back just enough to look at your face. He noticed then that there was a small bandage on your cheek, and some other areas looked recently healed.

“That’s why I’m here. I needed to see you. Needed to tell you I -”

Garreth looked into your eyes and listened close, silently urging you to continue. 

“I’m in love with you, Gar.” You breathed, as if a huge weight lifted off your shoulders finally telling him. “I always have been. It was close during my last outing and - When I thought I wasn’t going to make it, my biggest regret was never telling you. It’s alright if you don’t feel the same. I - I just needed you to -”

Garreth silenced you by crashing his lips onto yours. Keeping one arm around your waist, he brought up one hand to cup your jaw. He had caught you by surprise, but it didn’t take long to register what was happening and kiss him back. 

This. This right here was exactly what you two always dreamed of doing ever since your fifth year at Hogwarts.

The sound of voices approaching the shop from outside made him tear his lips away from yours. He took a step back and you couldn't help the bashful smile that tugged at your lips.

"Sorry. Parry Pippin will have my head if he caught word of me snogging in the shop while he was away."

"No need to apologize." You chuckled and turned to leave. "I can leave you to it."

Garreth's eyes widened. "Where are you going?" He asked in a panic and took a step towards you. 

"I was going to run a few errands around Hogsmeade. Get a room."

Garreth opened his mouth to protest, but some customers came in. "Welcome." He called, dismissing his usual greeting line and looking back at you. "Don't get a room." Garreth said loud enough for only you to hear.

You gave him a smile and nod, then took your leave. He made his way back behind the counter, watching your form out the window until you were out of sight. How was he supposed to carry on working as normal now that you were back and he had free reign to kiss you?

-

By the time you finished up what you needed to do and headed back to J. Pippin's Potions, Garreth was hurriedly closing up the shop. 

He looked up with a beaming smile when you walked through the door again. Setting down some empty vials, he strode up and pulled you into another deep kiss. He was learning fast that he wasn't going to be able to help himself around you.

Pulling away, he went straight back to his closing routine, aiming to finish as fast as possible so he could leave with you. "Get everything you need?" 

"I did." You got a bit shifty, wondering if you should tell him what you had done or it would seem like too much too soon. It hadn't seemed that way to you, having known Garreth for so long. But you hoped he would be happy to hear the news.

"You know you’re staying with me, right?" He said as he put away some ingredients.

You smiled. "I was hoping that was what you meant earlier." 

He shot you a smirk over his shoulder. "I think you'll be very proud to see how tidy I keep the place."

"Oh will I?" You quipped, nervously glancing down to your feet and shoving your hands in your pockets.

Garreth took a double take at you, his brows furrowing in concern. “What’s got you so quiet?” A worrying feeling began to set in that he may have been too bold to assume you would be alright with staying with him.

You raised your brows and looked back up at him. “Nothing.” You assured. “Sorry, I uh -” You let out an amused huff at having gotten yourself so worked up. “I got something I want to tell you when we get to your place.”

The ease came back to him as he locked up some cabinets. “You know you already told me you’re madly in love with me, right?” 

“I don’t remember saying ‘madly’.”

“Oh, silly me. ‘Devastatingly’ was the word.”

“That could have been it.” You shrugged, biting back your amused smirk. “Wouldn’t hurt to say it a few more times.”

A cheeky grin pulled at his lips. You love me.

“And you haven’t said it back by the way.” You teased.

Garreth’s movements slowed to a stop and he looked back at you, quirking a brow. “I haven’t? Yes, I have. Haven’t I?” Fuck, I haven’t. He had said it in his head so many times, were you certain he hadn’t even slipped up and said it aloud once? 

“Well, then…” Turning out the lights and grabbing his coat, he shrugged it on and strode up to you. He cupped your face in his hands and planted another kiss on your lips. “I love you too.”

“That was corny.”

“It was.” He took your hand in his and led you out. “I’ll work on it.”

-

“After you.” Garreth said as he opened the door to his home. 

“Wow.” Your eyes widened as they roamed his place. “You weren’t joking when you said you kept it tidy. I thought you were, or at least had a different definition of tidy.” You turned back towards him and looked him up and down suspiciously. “This isn’t the Gar I knew back at Hogwarts.”

“I’m a changed man.” He said coming up and pulling you against him, capturing your lips. How could you expect him to keep his hands off of you at this point? If you asked him, he’d say the two of you had some lost time to make up for. 

On one hand, it was wonderful knowing you pined for him all these years just as he had for you. But on the other, it was a bit frustrating knowing he could have been with you all this time, could have pulled you off to secret corners and kissed you senseless.

“Wait wait,” You slowed his kisses to a halt and took glances around his home. “Is there a room I can change in? I’ve been traveling all day and want to get out of these clothes.”

“Bedroom’s just there.” He gestured with his head towards it, not taking his eyes off of you. You gave him a grateful nod, slipping from his embrace.

“Won’t be a moment.” You called over your shoulder.

While he waited for you, he decided to grab some glasses from his cupboard. Maybe you’d be up for a stiff drink or two with him to celebrate. But truth be told, he needed something to help with his nerves. He was beyond elated to have you back, he didn’t want to mess this up.

His hands were shaky as he poured, and he cursed under his breath. The nerves were really hitting him. Easy now, Weasley. It’s you. We’ve been friends for years. He tried to inwardly calm himself.

But you weren’t quite friends anymore were you? Your confessions meant you were seeing each other now, right? So he was heading into uncharted territory with you. Merlin, of all the times for him to overthink in his life, why did it have to be then?!

He heard his door open and he turned back towards you with drinks in hand. “How would you feel about -” Garreth’s jaw went slack and he dropped the glasses, shattering them along the floor. You were standing at his bedroom doorway, completely naked.

“Oh fuck.” He croaked.

“Come here, Gar.”

“Yep, coming.” Though his mind was a mess, he was thankful to every higher power he could think of that his body kicked into gear to get to you. 

His hands went for your hips first, gripping the soft skin there as his mouth went for your neck like a starved man, leaving open mouthed kisses and bites everywhere he could. So this is what it’s like to taste every bit of you, I always wondered.

You let out the most delicious sounds as he walked the two of you towards his bed. You fell back and he fell on top of you. You instantly wrapped your arms and legs around him, holding him close. You had dreamed of having him like this for so long, it was hard to keep a loose grip.

“Mmh. Wait. Let me -” He sat up, and with hurried fingers began undoing his vest, you sat up as well and helped him, the both of you smiling like ecstatic idiots. If there was a feeling to describe looking down at you looking back up at him as you went for his clothes, it would be euphoria. 

Shrugging off his vest and then going for his shirt, he couldn’t believe how many layers he had on. Was this really what he dressed himself in every day? How did he ever find the time? 

Slipping off his shirt and unable to keep his lips away a moment more, he bent down to capture yours again. He stayed locked with you as he went for his pants. Thankfully there weren’t as many buttons as the shirt, and he shoved them down with your help. But the pants caught on his legs. He stood to his feet to get them off but tripped over himself, hitting the ground with a loud thunk.

“Ow!” He cackled, finally kicking them off and you went into hysterics. 

Climbing back onto the bed with a groan, he smiled down at you as he crawled over and laid on top of you. The nerves completely gone as you continued to howl with laughter. 

Sighing, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, and you held him lovingly against you as you tried to calm down.

“Satisfied already, are you?” He said with a feigned annoyance, but the grin was still on his face, hidden against your neck.

“Yes, very much so.” Your laughter dissipated into little giggles as you wiped away the amused tears from your eyes.

The two of you laid there like that for a moment, just holding each other. And he thought back to when you had cuddled and napped together in the Room of Requirement frequently during your Hogwarts days. How in Merlin’s name did he think that was just something friends did? He certainly wasn’t cuddling with Leander Prewett.

He didn’t let himself dwell on his missed opportunities anymore. Here was his opportunity now, right under him, holding him close.

He began kissing at your neck, and that seemed to get rid of your amusement entirely, something carnal beginning to take over. His mouth went up from your neck to your jaw, finding his way to your lips again.

He slid his tongue in when he felt your mouth part slightly, and you met him with yours. As your tongues tasted and entwined, he realized it was the closest he had gotten to being inside you, and he wanted more.

Breaking the kiss, he adjusted himself between your legs, teasing his tip at your entrance. He glanced down at you two about to join, then up at your face. Breathless with anticipation, you gave him a nod of your head, and he pushed himself in, ever so slowly.

You kept your eyes on one another as he thrusted into you with a slow rhythm, a rhythm that would help him savor being in you for the first time. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” He breathed, relishing the feel of your slick heat enveloping him.

The noises that escaped you were maddening, and he was beginning to lose himself. But he didn’t want to lose himself, he wanted to be attentive to everything you did as you clung to him, naked in his arms. But when you arched your back and your breasts pressed hard against his bare chest, the control was fraying at the seams.

His thrusts into you came harder and faster, and your hold on him tightened, nails digging into his back. It felt as if you two were more alive than you ever had been. Being intimate with someone was one thing, but being intimate with someone you were in love with brought you to a whole other level.

Multiple times that night, you had gone over the edge together. Tasting, touching, gasping, and sighing.

-

Both of you sweaty, sore, and satisfied, Garreth had you tucked under his arm, looking up at the ceiling, completely serene. “Back at J. Pippin’s,” He began, his voice raspy. “You said you wanted to tell me something.”

You sat up a bit to look at him, he kept a hand on your back. “When I went around Hogsmeade, I stopped at Brood & Peck.” 

You sat up a bit more and Garreth sat up with you, beyond curious at what you were going to tell him. 

“I got a job there.”

Garreth’s eyes widened. “You did?” He had been too swept up in your confession and being with you, he hadn’t even thought about where you two would take things from there. But it seemed you were already a few steps ahead anyway, just like you always had been. 

He shifted closer and pulled you onto his lap so you were straddling him. “But what about your magizoology career? Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled but… are you sure this is what you want?” He asked looking up at you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I don’t want to fight anymore.” You sighed. “I don’t want to live on the road for years to come. I just want to stay in one place and live my life.”

Garreth loved the sound of that. Even if you hadn’t decided to do this to be with him, he would have been ecstatic just to know you were leaving your dangerous lifestyle. He didn’t have to worry constantly about you getting killed anymore.

“Give me a few days and I’ll find my own place. Promise.”

“About that.” His hand went up through your hair and he pulled your head back towards his. “I wasn’t really planning on you leaving.”

-

Garreth was a nervous wreck. When the third potion that day had slipped through his fingers and shattered on the floor, he knew he needed to step out and take a breath of fresh air. 

He went out back and reached for the ring that was burning a hole in his pocket. When he had bought it, he had been more sure than anything you would say yes. But now that the time was approaching when he would ask you, doubts began to swirl.

Would it be too soon? Sure you had known each other and been close for years, but you had only been seeing each other for a few weeks. Granted, those past few weeks had been some of the best of his life. What if he proposed and you weren’t ready like he was? What if his eagerness to marry you would scare you off and you’d want to leave him and…

Garreth shook his head, taking another deep breath. His overthinking caused him to miss out on so much with you already, he couldn’t let it stop him again.

He took his time closing up the shop that day, he was still fidgety and wanted to get it together at least somewhat for when he went to meet you. Closing had always felt like it dragged on and on, but that night it seemed to speed by.

He went down to Brood & Peck and stepped through the door. You were looking over a map with Ellie Peck and discussing who knows what, probably another home relocation area for the beasts. Garreth couldn’t seem to pay attention, too in his own head still.

You glanced up at him and smiled, mouthing one moment. He smiled back and gave a little nod of his head, praying you would take your time. Merlin knew he needed every second you’d give him.

Finishing up, you grabbed your coat and waved goodnight to Ellie. You met Garreth and took his arm as you walked up the path to your home. You shot each other little smirks as you trekked along.

You sighed in exhaustion and rested your head against his shoulder. “Long day for you too?”

“Hmm? Oh er - yes. Long day.”

“More than anything I want to fall asleep, but I need to bathe first. The stables were a mess today.”

“That’s good to hear.” 

You huffed an amused breath through your nose and looked up at his face. He was staring ahead, seemingly off in his own world. “I think it was so bad I might quit and go back to my old job. Hope you don’t mind, I’ll be sure to write you.”

“Mmhm.”

“Sebastian Sallow showed up today and confessed his love for me again.”

“Mmhm - Wait what?!” He snapped his head to face you with wide eyes, but then relaxed when you started to cackle. “Not funny.” He grumbled.

“It was a little funny.” You gave his arm a loving squeeze. “What’s got you so distracted?”

He swallowed thickly and stopped walking. You stopped walking with him and raised a brow at him. “Should I be worried?” You teased.

He decided he just needed to get this over with or he was going to be a nauseated mess for the time being. He took a step back from you and went down on one knee.

At first, you thought he dropped something on the ground, then it hit you when he reached into his back pocket and took out a ring.

He said your name and looked up at you with tortured eyes, your lips parted slightly in shock. “I - I was going to make a special dinner tonight and ask you then but I think I’d burn the house down cooking I’m so nervous.” He swallowed thickly, glancing down at the ring and then back up at you. “I can’t remember exactly what I planned to say. But it was along the lines of me having been mad for you since we were kids, and how I want to be mad for you the rest of my life.”

Tears pricked at your eyes and your chest was nothing but a fluttery mess. “Yes.” You breathed, getting on your knees with him. 

An elated smile tugged at the corner of Garreth’s lips. “Yes? I - I had more I was going to say though - but… Yes?”

You nodded your head vigorously and the two of you couldn’t help but laugh. He put the ring on your finger and you grabbed for each other, kissing one another wherever you could get your lips on.

-

It had already been a month now that you and Garreth were together. He couldn’t believe how the days flew by being with you. But he shouldn’t be surprised. Every day consisted of him waking up to you in the morning, getting up and going to a job where he was surrounded by potions, walking down to meet you at Brood & Peck when he was done, then finishing it off by being buried deep inside you throughout the night.

Sure, you two may have lost out on some hours of sleep. But one could argue that you two taking the time to wear yourselves out could get you a deeper, more effective sleep. It was a running joke between the two of you, and neither of you were sure it was true. But you were both happy, and that was all that mattered.

With a smile on his face he couldn’t seem to shake, Garreth took the time to restock shelves at work. The doorbell rang when someone came in, he recited his usual line with the peppiness that had a hold on him this past month.

“Welcome to J. Pippin’s.” He turned towards the customer. “Let me know if -” He stopped cold in his greeting seeing it was Victoria Willowsmith, an ingredients delivery girl he had been seeing off and on before you came back. “Afternoon, Victoria.” He began as casually as he could, inwardly praying she just wanted to drop off ingredients and leave. “Got ingredients for me?” He put on a polite smile.

She looked uneasy as she walked towards him, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread. “Um… not today.”

He absently took out a rag and began polishing a nearby potion vial. “Then what can I do for you?” Something was off, he could feel it. 

“I need to speak with you.”

-

When Garreth arrived to meet you outside of Brood & Peck, you threw yourself into his arms as you always did. “Mmm, I’m ready to head home.”

He kept quiet as he wrapped his arms back around you, but you noticed his hold wasn’t nearly as tight on you as it normally was. You stepped back slightly, looking over his features and noticing he wasn’t meeting your gaze.

“What’s wrong?” You asked in concern, placing a hand on his cheek.

He took a deep breath and took your hand down from his face, stroking his thumb over your skin as the anxiety built up sickeningly at what he was about to tell you. “Walk with me.”

You remained silent as he guided you away from Hogsmeade, down the stone path to a place more isolated.

Garreth sat the two of you on a nearby bench as the sun began to set. He held your left hand in both of his, looking at the ring on your finger. He couldn’t stand the thought of it ever coming off.

The way he was acting brought on a sense of trouble. But you willed yourself to keep quiet, and let him say what he needed to say. As he held your hand, you looked out into the sunset, hoping the sight would help keep you calm.

“You’re everything to me. I hope you know that.” Garreth began, but it only made all of this more eerie. When you didn’t say anything in response, he knew he had to just tell you, not drag this on any longer. “Before you came back, I was seeing this girl off and on. Nothing serious. But she’s come back and told me that she’s -” He ran a shaky hand through his hair and he felt you tense up. “- told me she’s pregnant with my child.”

Your stomach went into agonizing knots as you continued looking out into the sunset. You wanted to throw up, you wanted to scream, you wanted to cry. But after a moment, all those intense feelings turned into something numb. 

“Please say something.” Garreth pleaded, finally looking at you then, unable to read your expression. “Shout at me. Anything. I just need you to say something.” 

You met his gaze and gave him the smallest of smiles. “You’re going to be a dad.”

Something in him broke. He had wanted you to say those words to him one day, but not under circumstances like this. He sighed your name as you stood up and slipped your hand from his. 

He stood with you and tried to search your eyes, but you gave him nothing.

“I uh -” You cleared your throat, trying to hide the sadness that constricted it. “I need to be alone at the house for a bit if you don’t mind.”

“Of course. Whatever you need.” He took a step towards you, but you took a step back, and he wanted to die. 

Without another word, he watched your form walk away. 

He slumped back down on the bench until the sun had completely set. Then he headed over to Hog’s Head. Three Broomsticks felt a little too upbeat for such a night.

After a few drinks he decided it was time to face you again at home. Taking one last sip of liquid courage, he made his way out. 

The first thing he noticed approaching the house was that none of the lights were on. 

“No…” 

He burst through the door and called your name in a panic, striding through the house and searching every room for you. “No no no.” But you were gone, and so were your things. There wasn’t a trace of you anywhere, not even a note.

Garreth fell to his knees, the pain hitting him all at once. He had never felt such an ache in his chest, as if a piece of him was gone, ripped right from him.

-

“Let’s see your list, bug.” Garreth said to his little one as he stepped out the door with her. The ecstatic, freckled, redheaded girl handed him the parchment that listed everything she needed for her first year at Hogwarts and he looked it over.

“Merlin’s beard! I don’t think I had this many books when I attended.” He teased, ruffling her hair.

“Dad.” Matilda grumbled, swatting him away and fixing her curly locks before they got into town. He and Victoria had agreed to name her after his aunt after she passed. She may have been tough on him growing up, but she had done so much for him, it only felt right.

The two of them went up and down Hogsmeade, getting everything she needed. Thankfully, they could save a bit on everything related to potions class. Ever since he took over for Parry Pippin, they had more potion equipment and ingredients to last a lifetime, even for him. Too bad Matilda didn’t seem to share the same passion for it as him. Her attention always seemed to lie in magical beasts, of course. Try as he might to shift her interests all these years, it was no use. 

He saved the most exciting part for last, getting Matilda her wand. As they walked on to Ollivanders, he caught sight of that day’s Daily Prophet on the news stand they passed. His jaw tensed when he saw you were on the cover yet again. Seems he saw you there several times a year. 

The first time he ever saw you on the cover, he had to do a double take. His legs turned to jelly and he immediately bought the first copy he laid eyes on. He would sneak off to stare at your portrait on the paper for months, maybe even over the course of a year truth be told. But the more he saw you grace the cover over the years, he’d eventually grown indifferent to it. It did start to get old after more than a decade of it happening.

What could you have accomplished this time? Perhaps you took down another magical beast fighting ring, discovered another abandoned dragon’s nest still full of eggs, or maybe even became the first ever human leader of a mongrel pack! Garreth didn’t care. All he needed was that little reassurance you were still alive and well and he could move on with his day.

He hoped Matilda didn’t catch it. Much to his chagrin, she was one of your biggest fans. He always… always had to buy the paper for her when you were on it. When he heard her gasp, he squeezed his eyes shut briefly in defeat. Of course she caught it.

“Dad! Can I have some galleons for -”

“Here, love.” He was already reaching into his pocket and handing her some money. He had never been one to say no to her. She gratefully (he liked to think) swiped it from him and took off towards the news stand. 

“Come right back to Ollivanders.” He called, waiting back and not wanting to chance reading over the headline.

-

You stepped out to greet your students for your first beasts class. Who would have thought, even after the career you’ve had, you’d still get nervous? 

As you looked out to all the little first years, you were surprised to see them all silent, attentively waiting to hear what you said next. “Well… Hello, everyone. Today, I say we jump into things and start with basic caretaking for each beast here we have in the stables. All we’ll need is a brush and some feed. But before we begin, any questions?”

Hands shot up, way too many hands. “Oh! Ah - yes you?” 

“Is it true you took down Bartley Barrin’s graphorn fighting ring?!” A curly haired student that reminded you all too well of Lucan Brattleby asked in amazement.

You raised your brows, not sure if it would be appropriate to answer such questions, especially to your first year class. “Ah, right. We can discuss such things later, I suppose. Outside of class hours. Now, any questions on basic caretaking?”

All the hands slowly went down except for one, enthusiastic, redheaded girl’s. She was reaching her hand up in the air so high you were worried she’d pull a muscle if you didn’t call on her. 

“Yes?” 

“Should we grab extra feed for the nifflers so they can stow it away for later?” 

A smile tugged at your lips. “No need. They’ll get fed multiple times a day just like the other beasts.”

The girl gave a firm nod of her head as if saying got it. Then her eyes widened and she shot her hand up again. 

“Go on.” You were trying to bite back your delighted smile. You’ve only had an enthusiastic student for a few minutes and it was already making you giddy. Please let there be more like her.

“Can we use the same brush on all the beasts? Or do we need to grab different sizes?”

“You can certainly use the same brush on all of them, er - What’s your name, dear?”

“Matilda Weasley.” She answered with a gap toothed smile.

You kept a straight face as your insides constricted a bit and you nodded your head. This wasn’t the first Weasley you had encountered since you arrived back at Hogwarts, it was probably the seventh truth be told. Yet you couldn’t stop your mind from reeling.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Miss Weasley. I hope you keep this enthusiasm even after you see how grumpy kneazles can be.” You clapped your hands together. “All right then! Everyone grab a brush and some feed and we’ll head over to the stables.”

-

“Dad!” Matilda burst through the door of J. Pippin’s Potions and ran up to Garreth.

He met her with open arms. “There’s my girl. Sporting the Gryffindor robes too, I see.” He looked at her proudly. But then he furrowed his brows and checked his pocket watch. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at dinner?”

“I ate fast.” She said dismissively. “I wanted to ask if I could have some money to go to Brood & Peck to get my own beasts brush!”

Garreth sighed. “Don’t they have brushes you can use for class, bug?” 

“They do, but they lock them away when class isn’t in session. Professor Y/N said I could visit the beasts whenever I wanted in my spare time to -”

“Professor who?” 

“Y/N, the beasts professor. Didn’t you read the paper?! Now, as long as I have my own brush, I can stop by even when no one’s able to take out the class brushes from storage so…”

Garreth let Matilda go on as the room started to spin. Shakily, he reached into his back pocket and grabbed some galleons for her. Probably giving her too much for what she wanted at Brood & Peck. But he couldn’t seem to think straight at the moment, and he didn’t need Matilda around to see her dad possibly faint.

“Thank you!” She sang, sprinting out the door.

Garreth leaned himself back against the counter, trying to stay steady. He rubbed at his chest in hopes it would help his heart rate go down. The last he saw you was 12 years ago, when you walked away from him. Not a letter, not a glimpse of you outside the Daily Prophet since. 

The Daily Prophet.

Garreth grabbed his coat and keys. Switching the open sign to closed, he locked up and made his way home.

He was greeted by Victoria when he stepped through the door. "What are you doing home so early?" She called from the kitchen.

"Matilda needed something from her room." He threw out as he headed there.

Throwing open her door, his eyes roamed the room quickly in search of the Daily Prophet he had gotten her. He spotted it on her dresser and made a beeline for it.

"Famed Magizoologist Takes Up Teaching…"

He looked over the article explaining your move to becoming the next beasts professor for Hogwarts and the bustling nerves within him wouldn’t let him stay still. You’re here… you’re just down the road. 

His body seemed to be moving without thinking. He dropped the paper to the ground and made his way out, headed down the road to Hogwarts.

-

“All right, that's enough questions for today I think.” You chuckled awkwardly, and the several students that had been asking you endless questions about your poacher hunter days whined.

“I know I know. Now I think it’s best you all be off before curfew anyway. I won’t be so interesting when I have to give you detentions, will I?” You guided the students out of your office. 

Once you shut the door behind them and were finally alone, you let out an exhausted sigh. Sure, you were grateful you didn’t have difficulty getting students to listen to you, but you couldn’t have predicted how exhausting their questions would become. 

Your “career” wasn’t something you looked back on fondly. You had done a lot of things you couldn’t take back, things you lost sleep over. But pursuing it was all you had.

As you turned to get ready for bed, a knock sounded at your door, tensing you up. You took a deep breath to relax and prepped yourself up a bit. No need to get a reputation as a scowling, moody professor quite yet. 

Turning on your heel, you went back to the door. “It’s almost curfew.” You called as you opened the door. “You should -” 

Words seemed to escape you, which probably didn’t matter much since your voice did as well. Locking eyes with the green ones before you seemed to have the same effect as petrificus totalus. 

Garreth was just as frozen in place as you. He didn’t have a plan for when he faced you again, all he had been set on doing was seeing you in person before him. He had walked up and down the road from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade until the sky went dark. Even after all that time, even after 12 years, he still had no idea what he’d say to you.

After a few moments of silence and the both of you trying to regain composure, you swallowed thickly. “Mr. Weasley.” You nodded your head in some sort of greeting, at least that’s what you thought your head did.

“Professor.” He attempted to greet back. “May I… May I come in?”

Nodding your head, you moved to the side to let him through. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he stepped inside. He needed to or else he’d be a fidgety, thumb twiddling mess.

You closed the door and the both of you stood there in silence for a moment, not sure where to begin in starting a conversation with a history such as yours. “Would you like a drink?” You offered. 

“Yes. Thank you.” He answered, looking around your office and living quarters. Any minute now, he’d be able to look your way again. Any minute now…

You went to grab the bottle given to you as a welcome gift when you first arrived to teach at Hogwarts. You were planning on saving it for a special occasion, and you couldn’t think of anything that could top what was happening then.

Pouring for the both of you, you grabbed the glasses and walked over to hand one to him. He gave a polite, if not awkward, smile as he took it from you. Both of you downed it a bit fast. Your frantic nerves helping you push passed the dreadful taste. 

“Another?” You asked.

“Please.” You gladly took the glass from him again and he ran a shaky hand through his hair. 

You returned with your refilled glasses, and he took his from you, just as appreciative as the first time.

“What brings you here?” You managed to begin.

He looked down at his glass, twirling the liquid around in his hand. “I needed to see you.” He decided to confess.

Your breath hitched and your heart rate picked up. The only response you could manage was a nod of your head and an absent sip of your drink. 

He looked up and met your gaze. “Was this stupid of me?” 

You shook your head. “No.”

He gave the smallest smile and looked back down at his glass.

“I think I met about ten different Weasleys today.” You casually began with a chuckle, the warmth in your cheeks putting you a bit at ease. “By chance were any of them yours?”

He let out an amused breath through his nose. “My little Matilda just started.”

“Ah, so it was Matilda. I had a suspicion. She’s delightful to have as a student just so you know.”

Garreth began to feel a bit more at ease now too. “I bet you it’s only because you have her for beasts class. Any other subject, you might have struggled to keep her attention.”

You nodded your head. “I may have gotten the sense she loved magical beasts. Just a little though.” You quipped.

Garreth shook his head. “Already asked me for her own beasts brush. I tried to remind her the school had some she could use, but she’s a silver tongue that one.”

You laughed at him then. The thought of Garreth Weasley being such a sucker for his little girl was too sweet not to smile at.

“What?” He asked, an amused smile of his own plastered on his face.

“Look at you, Gar. A proper dad.”

His chest fluttered at you calling him that again, but he shoved it back. “In all its glory.” He took another sip of his drink when his emotions began to swirl. In a perfect world, he would have had children with you. You would have been Matilda’s mother. But he shouldn’t dwell on impossible things like that, he had done enough of that already.

“What are you up to these days?” You asked.

Garreth gave a shrug. “A lot of the same really. Parry Pippin gave me his shop.”

Your eyes widened. “He did? That’s wonderful, Gar!”

There you went, calling him Gar again so effortlessly, blissfully unaware of what it did to him. He took another sip. “Not too bad, yeah? Never felt the need to change the name, thought it worked fine as is.”

“Outgrew ‘Garreth’s Subterranean Concoctions’, did you?”

He grunted and rolled his eyes in response, taking another sip of his drink. But he had to admit, at least to himself, he was a little impressed you remembered. “I decided it was, in fact, too obtuse. But I’d rather talk about you and your adventures. Think I’ve seen you in the Daily Prophet once or twice.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes. “Merlin, don’t remind me. Those journalists are pests. Won’t leave me alone.”

“Can’t really blame them. You’re probably the most interesting magizoologist they’ve encountered. You’re famous now.”

You rubbed at the back of your neck. “I wasn’t trying to be. I think the only plus side is my students seem to be very keen on what I have to say in class.”

“My Matilda’s going to talk your ear off. I hope you’re prepared.”

You smiled again, a warm feeling coming over you. You always knew Garreth would be a doting father. As much as you wanted him to have been the father of your children once upon a time, you couldn’t be mad with where things ended up. He clearly adored his little girl.

“I think you’re underestimating how much I’ll appreciate her enthusiasm.”

“Oh.” He guffawed with a shake of his head. “I don’t think I am.” Another sip. When he realized he finished the last of his drink, he took out his pocket watch and cursed under his breath. “I apologize, I shouldn’t have come to see you so late.”

You waved him off and chugged the last of your drink, going up and taking his glass from him. “You, Mr. Weasley, are welcome any time.” You said as you went to put away the glasses in your kitchen.

He rubbed a hand down his face as you walked him to the door. “Thank you… for tonight. Really.”

You met his serious stare and smiled at him. “Of course, Garreth.” 

He smiled back, but it had a hint of sadness to it. Call me Gar one more time. Just once more. 

“Goodnight.” He opened the door and went into the night air, giving you a small wave over his shoulder.

“Goodnight.” You called and waved back, then shut the door. You took a deep breath and released it, relieved that your reunion had gone as well as it had. Maybe you could do this. Maybe you could be friends with him again.

Another knock at the door tore you from your hopeful thoughts. You didn’t hesitate to open it back up. “Forget somethi -”

“What’s on your neck?” 

You stilled, you had completely forgotten you had it on. You had worn it for over a decade, it basically felt like a part of you now. If you had known he was coming you would have hidden it for the time being, but it hadn’t even crossed your mind until he asked you about it just then.

You were too flustered to answer, and Garreth walked up until he was toe to toe with you. Not taking his eyes off yours, he reached a delicate finger up to tug at the necklace you were wearing. He pulled it up just enough so that it wasn't covered by your shirt anymore. His eyes dropped to what was on it, and he lost all sense of reason. It was the engagement ring he got you. He thought he was seeing things when he caught the briefest glimpse earlier, but he had to be sure. He had to. And now that he was, he knew he was about to do something really stupid.

He looked back up to your eyes, his hand shifted from holding the necklace to cupping your neck, and he slowly leaned down towards you. “You need to tell me to stop.”

You shook your head, your breathing growing heavy. You didn’t want him to stop. You wanted him to close the distance between you so badly, but not like this, not when he had a wife at home. “Go home, Garreth.” You somehow got yourself to whisper, his lips just a breath away from yours.

He stopped. “Alright.” He whispered back and nodded, forcing himself to come to his senses. He kept his eyes on yours as he released you and walked backwards. Once he was far enough, he turned on his heel and strode up the path back to Hogsmeade.

-

The next day, Garreth headed down to Hogwarts with a crate of overstocked potion ingredients. He remembered how you always asked him for potions back in your school days, surely giving the excess stock to you would be better than tossing it out. Of course, that was, without question, the only reason he was heading to Hogwarts.

He walked along the path towards the beasts class stables, carrying the crate over one shoulder, and he spotted you talking to a student. He walked a bit slower so he could watch you. 

You knelt down to the young student’s level and explained something to him. The child was cradling a puffskein in his arms, and you were gesturing to different points on the creature while you spoke. Seeing you interact so well with kids did something to Garreth’s insides. 

You glanced in his direction and his throat went dry. You turned back to the student and stood, finishing up your lesson. The student handed you the puffskein and you waved goodbye as he ran off.

You turned towards him, squinting slightly with the sun in your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “Can I help you, Mr. Weasley?”

He pointed up at the crate on his shoulder. “Was wondering if you wanted some spare ingredients.” He called back.

“I’ll take whatever you can give me. One moment.” You turned to put the puffskein back in the stable.

Garreth shifted on his feet as he waited for you. He tried to keep his gaze on you subtle as you bent over to put down the puffskein and lock up the gate. But once you faced him fully and walked towards him, he eyed you with undivided attention. Merlin, you’re stunning.

“Let me get the door.” You said as you passed him.

He followed close, doing everything he could to not look at your backside in those pants. With a click of your key in the slot, you pushed open the door.

He stepped in and glanced back at you. “Anywhere?”

“Anywhere.”

Garreth went and placed the crate on your desk, taking glances around your hut, getting a scope of the place. Then he went back up to you, bringing himself toe to toe again, just as close as the night before. “I’m off then.”

You took in his freckles for a moment. Surely it was harmless to admire from afar, right? “You’re welcome any time, Mr. Weasley.” You decided to remind him.

He took the briefest glance at your neck, catching you still wearing the necklace with your ring. “Then I’ll be back tomorrow, Professor.” With that, he took his leave.

-

It had become a daily occurrence for Garreth, walking down to Hogwarts with spare ingredients from the shop. It was the highlight of his day every time. Just getting to be near you and feel that thick as honey tension between you, it was intoxicating. 

It had gone on for weeks, and the excitement hadn’t dissipated in the slightest. If anything, it only grew by the day.

His newfound routine had been thrown off when there was a shortage of wiggenweld potions across the valley. He had been the only shop to have stock and he wasn’t able to leave until every last customer was helped. 

As soon as everyone had cleared out, he rushed to close up. Throwing the crate with ingredients over his shoulder, he picked up the pace to make it down to you before Hogwarts’ curfew.

He didn’t expect to walk down and see you waiting on the steps of your hut.

His footsteps slowed to a stop as you stood and eyed him. “You're late.” You stated as you went to get the door.

“Busy day.” He replied as he came up behind you and stepped inside. Walking past you, he went to your desk as he usually did, but stopped and turned when he heard you close the door and lock it.

He met your gaze as you took determined steps towards him. “Put it down.”

Garreth recognized that look in your eye, even if it had been over a decade since he’d seen it. He dropped the crate to the ground, the wood breaking and the ingredients scattering across the floor. He closed the distance between you two, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling your lips to his.

Your hands reached up and gripped the fabric of his shirt, holding him against you just as you had dreamed to these past 12 years. 

The two of you licked and bit and sucked at each other's lips in an attempt to fill this insatiable need between you, gasps and sighs escaping. Garreth gripped at your thighs, picking you up and hoisting your legs around him. He carried you to your desk, the two of you urgently shoving off everything that covered it as he sat you on top of it. 

With hurried hands, you went for each others’ pants, unbuttoning and pulling down the fabric that separated you both. As soon as he had access, his tip was at your entrance. You shifted so he could enter you, moans coming from both of you as he did.

His thrusts were hard and spaced out as soon as he was in you again. He couldn’t let himself go fast. No, he needed to savor every second of this. The two of you kept your eyes locked on one another as he pounded into you. 

When your head began to fall back, he cupped your face, keeping you upright. “Keep looking at me.”

Your hands shot to the back of his head and held tight to his locks as he thrusted into you. He crashed his lips back onto yours, your tongues battling for dominance, and his release was coming fast. 

He reached up for the top of your shirt, tearing the top few buttons open, breaking them off and sending them flying. He broke your kiss and looked down at your necklace, the ring in full view before him. Grunts escaped him as his thrusts came faster and he plunged into you until completion.   

Both of you breathing hard, you remained holding one another. He rested his head on your shoulder as he caught his breath. You seemed to come out of the blissful haze before he did, but when you shifted to get up he held you in place. 

“No.” He said. “No, please. Can we stay like this a little longer?”

The desperation in his voice matched the desperation you felt. But this was a mistake, you shouldn’t have initiated as you had. You should have let him drop off the ingredients and go. But you shut the door and locked the both of you in, selfishly taking him as if he were still yours. 

“I’m sorry.” You breathed as you shifted away from him and off the desk. “I shouldn’t have… Forgive me, this is all my fault.” Your voice was strained as you went to grab your discarded pants. 

Garreth pulled up his own pants as well, numbly looking at the wall before him. He wanted your warmth against him again, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to get his fill of it. “I’m just as much to blame.”

“I think -” You took a shaky breath and went for the door when you were both clothed again. “I think I’m fine on ingredients. Thank you for everything.”

Garreth’s face went stoic, and he took his leave without looking at you. “You’re welcome.”

-

You and Garreth kept your distance from each other throughout the following months. But he still kept an eye out for you throughout Hogsmeade. He allowed himself to look, but the temptation to touch never faded.

After a rather taxing day at the shop he decided to pop into Three Broomsticks, he tensed when he saw you at a table in the back talking with Brood & Peck’s new worker. He had seen the fellow around and heard some things about him. He had quite the adventurous background, just like you. 

Garreth tried to keep the scowl off his face as he enjoyed a drink or two… or three.

Throughout the night, Garreth spoke amicably with everyone seated next to him at the bar. He’d sip at his drink as he took casual glances your way. You had been talking with that blockhead all night, smiling at him, acting smitten. He hid it well, but it was sending him up the wall.

He caught that you finally said goodbye to the man and took your leave. He downed the last of his drink and left after you. He could probably blame it on the alcohol in his system, but in truth, it was just how crazy you made him. 

Coming up behind you, he grabbed your arm and pulled you into a dark, nearby alleyway. 

“Hey! Garreth, what in Merlin’s name are you doing?" You took rapid glances around to make sure no one could see you two.

Pinning you between him and the wall, he pressed himself against you. You were taken aback, but immediately compliant. You looked up at him as he put a firm hold on your neck, feeling the chain of your necklace under his fingers. 

A thrilling sensation coursed through you and you were eager to see what he would do next, ignoring all the screaming voices in your head to not let it go any further. 

He leaned down and bit at your bottom lip, then placed his forehead against yours. “Trying to replace me?”

You didn’t respond, only looked into his darkened eyes with yours as your breathing picked up. Keeping his hand on your throat, he slid his free hand down the front of your pants, immediately going for your folds. 

“Go ahead. Just try.” He moved his fingers against your slit and greedily took your lips with his.

You kissed him back with just as much hunger, but you got yourself to turn away and push feebly at his chest. “Garreth… We can’t -” A whimper escaped you at his touch, and he plunged his first finger into you.

“I had to watch you with him all night.” He spoke in a low tone next to your ear. 

You bit your lip and your hands slid up from his chest to grip his shoulders. He took that as his chance to slip another finger in.

“Does he know what’s around your neck?” His fingers moved faster. “Hm?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, wanting to slap him, but also wanting him to continue taking you as he was.

“Fuck, I like the way you’re looking at me.” He breathed. He had never taken control like this before, and it was a power trip he never knew he wanted to experience. 

Your breathing was becoming shallow as he kept up his movements. “Don’t stop.” You panted in his ear as you threw your arms around him, holding him even closer.

“I’ll stop when I want to stop.”

The combination of his rough fingers and the way he was speaking had you delirious, the fire in your abdomen now an inferno. You were a furnace completely at his mercy and it was everything.

When your heavy breathing melted into moans, Garreth shifted back a bit, moving the hand that was on your throat and placing it over your mouth. “Keep fucking quiet.” He commanded in a hushed tone. But his fingers moved faster within you, almost challenging himself to get you to scream out.

He glanced down at his hand in your pants then back up to your face, and caught your half-lidded, pleasure filled eyes. His knees nearly buckled at the sight, but he stood strong. He could tell you were close, and more than anything he wanted to get you there, be the only person who ever did for the rest of your lives.

Your eyes began to roll into the back of your head and he removed his hand from your mouth, capturing your lips with his. He was going to swallow every cry and mewl he got out of you.

When your walls stopped contracting over his fingers, he slowly slid them out of you. His hands went to your hips and he rested his forehead against yours. As you caught your breath, the two of you had left your hate-fuck filled state and somehow shifted to something else.

“Tell me you still love me.” He exhaled, trying to stay steady. “Tell me you still love me like I love you.”

You took in his freckles with him being this close, just like you had always done. “Of course I still love you. You’re all I have left.”

His throat constricted. “Then why did you leave?”

Your arms snaked around his shoulders. “Garreth…”

“You didn’t even leave a note.” He shook his head slightly, the tears began to sting at his eyes. “You left me with nothing. We could have figured something out. We could have -”

You pulled his head down to your shoulder, cradling him there. He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you tight to him.

“Please just… tell me why you left without giving me a chance. I know I didn’t deserve it. I know that. But I have to know what was going through your head.”

You let out a shaky breath, keeping your own tears at bay. “There wasn’t a place for me there.”

He tightened his hold on you and buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“It didn’t feel like my home anymore. That house was for you and your family.”

“You were my family.” He argued against your neck. “We were going to get married.”

“But we weren’t yet. And you had a baby on the way, Garreth.” You sighed. “I thought about coming back so many times. I did once.”

Garreth pulled back slightly, furrowing his brows and meeting your eyes. “When?”

“About a year after I left.” You admitted. “Your aunt had passed and I wanted to visit her grave. Told myself I was going to let you go and give you back the ring while I was at it. Then I saw you sitting outside your house holding little Matilda.” You smiled a bit thinking back on it. “You looked tired, but so happy. I felt like I’d only intrude, so I left.”

Garreth thought about it, and he didn’t know what he’d do if you decided to meet with him. He had come to terms with it all by then, marrying Victoria, having Matilda, losing you. He might have been able to stand tall. But then again, he went mad just seeing your picture in the Daily Prophet for the first time.

“And the ring? After all this time?”

You shook your head. “I can’t seem to let you go.”

You held each other in the alley like lovesick teenagers who snuck out in the night. He kissed you then, but without the aggression or urgency. For the first time since he’d had you in his arms again, his lips were tender on yours.

-

Just like it had when you were seeing each other over a decade ago, time seemed to fly by. Months had passed since he began sneaking away to see you, taking a quick floo to your hut and locking yourselves away for a few stolen moments. Moments where you two would be entwined. He’d be on top of you, under you, any position he could manage while he was inside you. Sometimes you’d make love, sometimes you’d fuck. It was all perfect to him. 

That potions shop keeper is having an affair with the beasts professor at Hogwarts. Garreth imagined people around Hogsmeade would say. But your meetups were the best kept secret he had ever had. No one ever suspected a thing.

Sure it was a bit thrilling to have secrets, but all that mattered was that he had you again. He couldn’t ask for anything more.

Except for maybe a divorce. He felt awful running around on Victoria as he was. She was a fine wife, a fine mother. But he hadn’t felt that spark of life he always had with you. The moment he saw you standing in person before him again, he knew his marriage was over. He had nothing more to offer her.

It had weighed heavily on Garreth. Separating wouldn’t exactly be easy to do legally, or cheap. But he’d push through, whatever it took to get the life he had been aching for since the moment you left. 

He hadn’t touched Victoria since you came back. She had tried, and he’d been dismissive. Even spending a good amount of his nights sleeping at the shop. She had sensed his distance easily, and eventually gave up on trying. He hoped she found a lover too.

He’d go easy on Matilda and break the news to her when the time came. He reasoned her being away at Hogwarts a majority of the year now would give her enough space from it all. There was never a good time for parents to separate, only the sooner the better at this point.

-

Matilda hadn’t attended beasts class that day. You would assume she was out sick, but something felt off. Every time she was sick she would still make her way to beasts class, and you’d always have to tell her she could catch up after hours and to go get some rest. But she hadn’t even shown up that day, and it set all your alarm bells off.

“You’re not in trouble, I promise you.” You assured the student you overheard mentioning her name. “Just tell me where she said she’d be.”

“W - Well, she mentioned a place called Henrietta’s Hideout? Hideaway? Said she needed to find a runaway niffler.”

Your blood had gone cold. Henrietta’s Hideaway was beyond dangerous for anyone, let alone a child. It had been riddled with traps and dark wizards when you and Garreth went exploring there, when you were particularly young and stupid. “Are you sure?”

The student nodded his head, clearly nervous. 

You turned on your heel, immediately heading to the nearest floo.

-

Matilda felt in her gut coming to Henrietta’s Hideaway would be dangerous, but she ignored that feeling and ventured forth anyway. The thought of leaving Agnes Coffey’s pet niffler to roam here and get killed made her sick to her stomach. She couldn’t sit by and let it be. She couldn’t.

She had managed to find the niffler, Rococo, but getting back out alive was starting to feel impossible. There were traps everywhere, and she didn’t know how to cast disillusionment on anything else other than herself. Rococo would give her away to the surrounding dark wizards for certain.

As she stood there, hiding herself and cradling the niffler in her arms, her hope slipped away every time she peeked around the corner. Each time it seemed like the amount of dark wizards lurking around went up. She let herself panic, but she didn’t let herself cry.

She startled when she started to hear spell blasts. Hearing the alarm in the dark wizards’ voices as they started casting spells back, Matilda held tight to the niffler and slid down the wall she was leaning against. She was finally starting to feel like the child she was. 

She needed to get out of there, she needed her father. He could save her, he always had. She squeezed her eyes shut and closed out the world around her, the tears started to come then.

Because her fear had taken over, she didn’t even notice when everything went quiet. She continued to hold tight to the whining niffler and keep her eyes closed when you approached.

“Matilda? Matilda, it’s me. Everything’s alright now. Come with me, dear.” You knelt to her level and spoke in a hushed tone. 

She slowly looked up hearing your voice, her eyes widening. Letting herself sob then, she threw an arm around you while still holding tight to the niffler. 

She threw you off balance slightly but you kept upright and held her back. “I got you.” You soothed and slowly brought both of you to your feet. “Let’s get going.” You pulled back, keeping a hold on her shoulders. You looked into her eyes, trying to get her steady again. “I need that Gryffindor bravery, alright?” You gave her a reassuring smile.

She wiped at her eyes quickly and gave you a firm nod. “A - Alright.”

The two of you moved forward out of Henrietta’s Hideaway. You tried to remember what the trap mechanisms looked like when you were there back in your school days. Dark Wizards you could handle. Nearly invisible traps? Those could sneak up on anyone.

You and Matilda caught sight of the entrance and she was immediately filled with optimism and relief. “There!” She shouted and began sprinting. 

“Matilda, slow down!” You called, keeping up with her as best you could.

You caught it at the last second. The tile Matilda stepped on made a clicking sound, and sank just slightly under the pressure of her foot.

“Matilda!” You shouted and shoved her out of the way. You weren’t sure what the trap being set off would do, but something moved into your abdomen, a strong pressure hitting you immediately. It didn’t hurt at first, but it had a solid hold on you. You couldn’t move. Then whatever was in your abdomen slipped out, the blood and the pain started to come. It was a spike, triggered by the plate Matilda had stepped on.

The realization started to kick in then. You did your best to keep your breathing even and not scare Matilda. This was it. This was the misstep that got you, wasn’t it? You could feel it. You weren’t going to be alive after today.

“Matilda.” You began as calmly as you could. “Go… Go get your father. He can help me, he’ll know what to do.” You sat down on the ground, clutching your stomach, slowing the bleeding to buy yourself time. “Watch your step as you go.”

Matilda was scared seeing your wound bleeding as harshly as it was, but she was able to stand strong at your handling of it. You were her hero after all. Of course you could handle something like this, no problem. She nodded her head vigorously and ran out.

You tried to keep your breathing even, last long enough to see Garreth one last time.

-

“Dad!” Matilda burst through the shop door. Garreth caught her panic in an instant and didn’t hesitate to run up to her. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he looked her over quickly, ignoring the niffler in her arms. 

“What is it?! What’s wrong?!” He cupped her cheek when he noticed some of the scrapes on her face. “Let me get a wiggenweld.” He turned to get it but she grabbed his wrist.

“No time! It’s Professor Y/N. I - I was at Henrietta’s Hideaway and she helped get me out of there. She saved me from a trap but she’s hurt, dad. She - She said to get you. Said you’d be able to help.”

Garreth’s eyes widened, nostrils flaring. Henrietta’s Hideaway? “What in Merlin’s name were you doing all the way out there?!” Not waiting for her answer, he ran for the door. “Wiggenweld! Now!” He snapped before he was out of sight and at the nearest floo flame. As soon as he returned with you, he’d give Matilda an earful.

-

Garreth called your name as he carefully stepped into the hideaway. It had been so long since the two of you had explored there. He had no doubt it was still as dangerous as it was back then, the both of you had barely made it out in one piece even with how capable the two of you were.

He heard you cough. He turned your direction and his heart dropped at the sight.

You were sitting on the ground in a pool of blood, back up against a rock, hand clutched over your abdomen attempting to stop the bleeding. Garreth strode up and knelt before you. “We have to get you out of here.” He swallowed thickly once he got a closer look at the wound and noticed the loss of color in your skin. A sickening thought took hold of him. 

Are you dying?

“No, I -” You hissed in pain. “I’m not going to make it out of here, Gar.” 

He had never heard your voice so weak, dread started to set in. No, you’re not dying. You survive everything. You can’t die. “We’ve got to try. I can carry you.”

He wanted to scream when you only shook your head at him. “Be with me.” You reached for his hand.

His nostrils flared, his breathing starting to come out uneven as he tried to shove the panic down. “I’m getting you to St. Mungo’s.” As carefully as he could, he attempted to lift you. But your cries of pain stopped him. He shifted just enough so he was on the ground with you, holding you in his arms, your blood coating his clothes. The helplessness he felt was crippling.

“Tell me what to do.” He pleaded. “You always have a plan. Tell me what I need to do.” Garreth was crumbling, the pieces of him falling too quickly to catch.

You rested your head against his chest and looked up at him as he looked around the cave frantically. “Be with me. Please, Gar.”

He shook his head. “I just got you back.” His voice cracked, his throat constricting. “Please… Please don’t leave me. I can’t do it. I can’t lose you again.”

You weakly reached up and tugged at your necklace. “You never lost me.”

Garreth looked down at the ring he gave you and the tears stung at his eyes, ready to fall. You let go of the necklace and cupped his cheek, looking at him with so much love, he didn’t feel worthy of any of it. 

He reached up and held your hand against his cheek. “You saved my girl.” He whispered, more grateful than you’d ever know.

“You know me. Always have to be the hero.” You quipped, your voice so weak it nearly came out as a wheeze. “I wish we met in first year.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, nodding his head, tears falling.

“It was always you, Gar.”

He shifted you in his arms, holding you tighter. “And it was always you.”

“You and me.” You smiled, your voice getting quieter.

“You and me.”

As you looked up at him and he looked back down at you, you seemed to stop breathing, seemed to go perfectly still. He said your name, but no response. He said it one more time, waiting for something, anything at all. But nothing. 

He pulled you up more against him, resting his cheek against the top of your head, and let the rest of the tears come. 

Come back to me. 

Come back to me. 

Come back to me.

-

The day of your funeral, he’d barely been able to speak, his voice would betray him each time. Nobody expected him to speak much anyway. After all, who was he to you? He wasn’t blood, he wasn’t your husband. At most he was an old friend, as far as everyone knew. No one would ever know what he truly was to you, would they? If he thought he felt loss when you left him all those years ago, it was nothing compared to what he felt then.

You were gone, for good this time. The permanence of it made his chest ache with an unbearable emptiness. It seemed every breath he took, he needed to guide himself through it. In, out. In, out. In, out.

Even after everyone left, he remained with your grave. As he stood there, looking down at your tombstone, he realized this was all he could have with you for the rest of his life. 

He tried to think about your smile, your laugh, picture you there still with him. But as soon as he’d fall into the memory, a little voice in the back of his head reminded him it wasn’t real. Then your laugh in his head went silent, and he’d be brought back to reality in front of your tombstone.

Someone had walked up and looked down at your grave with him. “Seems I’m late.”

Garreth glanced up briefly and saw Sebastian Sallow beside him, looking down uneasily. “Afraid so.” 

He had never liked Sallow. The lad would be fine in Garreth’s eyes if he hadn’t been so hopelessly in love with you back at Hogwarts. He had been sane before you showed up, but as soon as you arrived, something about you drove the poor fool mad. He had to stop him from following you around and begging you to reconsider your rejection too many times to count.

“Merlin, this can’t be real. She was supposed to outlive us all.” He whispered in disbelief. “When was the last time you spoke to her?”

Garreth blinked away the memory, trying to get the image of your bloody, lifeless form in his arms out of his head. “Not long before she passed. You?”

“I’d say about five years ago. Last I saw her, she was walking out my door, breaking my heart once again.”

Garreth wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer, but he asked anyway. “You two…?” 

Sebastian glanced up at him, then looked back down with a shake of his head. “Not really. I mean we tried for a while. But she was never able to love me like I loved her.” Sebastian let out a shaky sigh. “Untameable that one.”

Garreth could only nod his head. That you were.

“I really thought I had a chance after you.” Sebastian huffed humorlessly. “But if it wasn’t going to be you, I don’t think it was going to be anybody.”

Garreth swallowed the lump in his throat and knew it was time to be alone. He gave Sebastian’s shoulder a cordial pat as he passed. “Good seeing you again, Sallow.”

-

Garreth sat before the fire, and let himself wallow in his own whiskey fueled pity. How many times had he let you down throughout knowing each other? How many times had he failed you when you two were right on track to live happily ever after?

There was nothing he could do now, was there? The only thing left to do was mourn. So he thought back on his life with you again. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could see you again in his dreams tonight.

#garreth weasley #garreth weasley smut #garreth weasley x reader #garreth weasley x you #garreth weasley imagine #garreth weasley angst #weasley wednesday

[airplanned]

Castletown Academy

Modern AU.  Link and Zelda both want to send their kidos to the best school around.  Too bad there’s only one spot!

3,000 words.  Rated E for Everyone.  Not beta’d, we die like men.

I’ve been in a weird writing place this week, and wanted to just write a lot all at once and this terrible AU idea came out.  IDEK.  Enjoy!

---

Zelda tried to hide her anxiety, and putting all her effort into that loosened her hold on her tongue so she asked, "Are you also a prospective family?" She could tell already that she was going to ask far too many questions on this tour of Castletown Academy, and get herself labeled "that mom" before they even started. 

If they started.  This was the fifth school she'd toured this week.

The couple sitting across from her in the school office looked up.  "We are!" the woman said with a smile, but the man narrowed his eyes at her, sizing up her and then her son, Ralphie.  Probably trying to figure out what grade he was in to see if he'd be competition for his own child.

This was a very difficult school to get into.

Ralphie was currently huddled in on himself like a little turtle, and he was small for his age, so the man across from them would probably think he was a year younger, if not two.

The couple across from her didn't have their child with them.  This was actually the first time she'd brought Ralphie, since she'd finally lost all patience with his last school and pulled him out.  He'd miss the last two weeks and come with her to the office, but she was not sending him back there.

For the millionth time, she second guessed her decision, but then shoved the doubt way.  Which meant that more talking happened.

"What grade is your child in?" she asked.

"Second and Kindergarten."

"Raphie's also going into second."

"How wonderful!" the woman said.  She smiled at him in a kindly way as if she really believed that.

The man tensed even more.  Ralphie was a threat.

Zelda was far too tired to deal with that.

The door opened, and a man hurried into the office, pulling a little girl behind him.  The smile on Zelda's face froze.  

The man clapped eyes on her, and his eyes widened for just a fraction of a second, before he cleared his throat and hurried his kid into the room to join them.

Zelda followed his lead and ignored him, reaching a hand down for Ralphie to squeeze her fingers.

She'd seen the man at three of the other school tours.  He was quiet, keeping his opinions to himself, and--unlike Zelda--he offered up very little information about himself or his daughter.  From the few questions he'd asked, she'd gathered that his daughter had an interest in math and science, and he was especially interested in the rigor of the curriculum.  She’d gathered from one of their tour guides that his daughter had already applied to different schools and gotten partial scholarships.  At every tour, they had known who the man was, and they'd been absolutely ecstatic to have his daughter join them.

Why he'd visited so many schools was a complete mystery to Zelda.  It was almost rude, in fact, that he kept showing up.

His daughter was also going into the second grade.

They were so obviously in competition with each other, and the man's daughter was so obviously winning.  Two school visits ago, their tour guide's smile had cracked as soon as Zelda had said Ralphie was going into second grade. Her eyes darting to the man and back. "Well.  We do have limited space of course.  To keep class sizes small.  You understand."  Then she had practically ignored Zelda for the rest of the tour.

Infuriating.  

(The man did look a bit uncomfortable, and had spoken even less than usual, but that might have been because their academics were clearly not up to his standards.  They weren't really up to Zelda's either, and she didn't want to be somewhere where they would treat people so poorly. Not again.)

The last school they'd visited, she had felt the tide pull yet again in the man's favor, and in desperation asked, "When was the last time your auditorium was refurbished?...Oh!  Perhaps a wealthy donor could assist with that."  And suddenly Zelda had the tour guide's attention.

It was not her finest moment.  In fact, she immediately felt such queasy, hot shame at the way the man had looked away and swallowed hard that she vowed to herself not to do it again.  (At least not until Ralphie was a student, at which point she would donate whatever was needed.)

She'd consoled herself that she probably wouldn't see the man again, and she could live with one person out there, who didn't know her name, thinking she was a completely selfish wealthy monster.

But now here he was.  With his daughter.  Who apparently loved math and science.  And was cute as a button with dirty blond hair done up in an elaborate braid with little wisps of it flying loose.

She came straight up to Ralphie and said, "I'm Flora.  What's your name?"

Ralphie shifted closer to Zelda, pressing against her arm, refraining from hiding behind her simply because they were sitting.  Zelda lifted a hand to his shoulder and squeezed.

"Oh!" the girl said.  "You're shy.  Do you want me to go away, or can I sit by you?  I talk a lot, but you don't have to talk back, if you don't want."

"You...can sit here," Ralphie said, his voice quiet.  He leaned less against Zelda.

Flora beamed and slipped into place beside him.

Zelda lifted her eyes to the man's, and for a tense moment, they stared at each other, wariness and embarrassment that they wouldn't address in front of their children warring between them.  She dropped her eyes first as heat crept up her neck.

Flora plopped into her seat, already talking about how pretty the floor was.  It was a hounds-tooth tile done in granite, and it was very shiny, which Flora appreciated.  A moment later the man took the seat next to his daughter.

Flora dominated the conversation in the office, nearly pulling Zelda in twice, and finally getting Ralphie to tell her his name and how old he was and that his favorite subject was Library.

Ralphie liked to hide in the library during recess.  And gym.  And sometimes Art and Music and math centers.  The librarian let him hide under an unused desk, handing him a book and a camp lantern.  Then she'd send Zelda a text.

A low quiet voice startled her.  "Have you been to the public library?  Flora and I go there."

Her head snapped up to see the man smiling softly at Ralphie, giving him plenty of attention and kind interest.

"Sometimes.  The school librarian gets me enough books tho."

"My school doesn't have a library!" Flora announced proudly.  "But I heard this school has one.  I want to see it."

Ralphie nodded.  "Me too."

Zelda couldn't not say anything about that.  "I'm certain there won't be a need to hid--to visit as often here."

Ralphie looked as if he didn't believe her, his shoulders sneaking back up around his ears.

She sucked in a breath to say more, how this school would be different, how she was going to keep him safe, how they were turning over a new leaf where he could finally feel comfortable.  But she stopped herself.  Saying such things in public would embarrass him.

She squeezed his arm again.  "This school will be better."

"So much better!" Flora said.  "I heard they have a math club!  And they won a trophy!"

Zelda laughed.  "You want to join math club?"

"Yeah, and then I'll have a trophy too."

Zelda darted a look at the man, who gave his daughter a fond smile.

He really should be proud of her.

His eyes lifted to hers.  Then darted down to Ralphie and back in question.

Zelda tightened her jaw and looked away.

Their guide for the hour appeared, the assistant principal if Zelda remembered correctly.  The woman greeted them all as they stood.

"John and Mira Saddelwell," the grumpy man said, shaking the vice principal's hand.

"Link," Flora's father said.

"Zelda."

"I'm Flora, and this is Ralphie.  He doesn't talk a lot."

"Well, hello Ralphie and Flora!"  The assistant principal bowed towards them, bracing her hands on her knees.  "Would you like me to show you our school?"

"Yeah!"

And with that Flora grabbed Ralphie's hand and skipped after the assistant principal.  Ralphie barely had to be dragged along.

***

The school had a robotics team.  Because of course the school had a robotics team.

Flora was in heaven, and Link had no idea what he was going to do when they finally told him the cost of tuition.  He really should have not brought her, but he hadn't had any other child care. 

Flora and the little boy she'd adopted watched in awe as an older student patiently explained the robot arm he was working on.  The older kid was a Sophomore (or so they'd been told when the woman--Zelda--had asked).  Kids as young as third grade could join robotics club, which was tutored by some of the high school students.  They couldn't enter competitions until junior high, but by then their team had several years experience under their belts and always crushed the competition.

Maye they had scholarships.  Maybe he could get a second job.  Maybe it wouldn't be as bad as--

The robot arm moved, much to the kids' delight. 

Yeah, no.  Tuition was going to be bad.

But they had a great math and science curriculum, and the junior high and high school science teachers and won so many awards a few years back that there had been some drama about renaming the school the Castletown Science Academy, at which point the English department had pushed back with a vengeance, citing the high school students' publications in national literary magazines and poetry contests and famous alumni who were now writers.  They got one of the most decorated journalists in the country to come give a rather pointed talk about how much her Junior year English teacher had inspired her.  Later the same week the national poet laureate dedicated a poem to her alma mater, and the matter was dropped.

So.  Yeah.  It was a good school.

The best school.

And the assistant principal was strongly hinting that Flora would be accepted.

It was kind of embarrassing.  He wished they wouldn't be so obvious.  She would get in, and he'd have to tell her no.  And in the mean time all the other parents would glare at him.

Zelda had given up glaring at him a bit this time.  Maybe because her son was there.  She looked softer when she looked at him, and putting the pieces together, some of her anxious desperation was starting to make sense.

This time, it was the other family that was giving him the stink eye.  He avoided eye contact and ignored them completely.

It didn't surprise him when half way down the next hall, Zelda asked, "What's your bullying policy?"  She'd asked that on previous tours, along with dozens of other questions, and Link hadn't paid much attention because it seemed as if she wanted every bit of information about everything.  Now that he'd seen her kid, and the way he'd melted with Flora's kindness, now he was getting the picture.

"We have a zero tolerance policy," Ms. Jones said.  "It's clearly laid out in our student handbook.  I'll be sure to get you a copy.  But honestly, we rarely have issues.  At the elementary level, we have a socio-emotional curriculum.  It focuses a lot on identifying and expressing their emotions in constructive ways.  The kids really do take it to heart."

That was true if what Link had seen so far was to be believed.  The few classes they peeked in, the kids actively helped one another and seemed to listen to each other in ways he'd never seen before in a school.  Even that high school kid who had shown them the robot was weirdly patient.

Flora actually might have trouble with all that.  But if she could learn to chill out a bit when she got frustrated and bored and annoyed at people disturbing her work, that would be awesome.

That was part of why they needed to change schools.

"Here's our music room," Ms. Jones announced, showing them through a door.  "There's no class right now, but you can meet Mr. Bosk."  The music room was large with chairs in stadium seating and shelves of books and small percussion instruments along one wall, lockers for real orchestra instruments along another, and a set of white boards, one of which had a music staff printed on it and a little tune drawn out in magic marker.

As Mr. Bosk introduced himself and explained what the elementry school kids were working on, Ralphie scooted closer and closer to towards the grand piano at the front of the room, dragging Flora along as if they were connected by magnets.

"Oh!" Mr. Bosk said, noticing the kids once they were close enough to reach out and touch it.  "Do you play the piano?  Or would you like to learn?"

Ralphie nodded, tucking both his hands behind his back to show he wasn't going to touch the piano.

The music teacher smiled.  "Would you play something for me?"

The kid looked to his mom, who nodded encouragingly.  "We'd all love to hear it."

Strangely, the kid's eyes then turned to Link, who mimiced his mom's nod.

That got the kid to sit.  His little feet hung from the bench so he couldn't reach the pedals, but his spine suddenly straightened.  And then he started to play.

The lady married to the grumpy guy audibly gasped.

It was a classical piece they'd all heard before, technically a bit challenging, but played with a fluidity that was rare to see in children.  His head bounced along to keep time.

When he finished, Flora squealed, "That was so good!" 

Zelda beamed with pride.  It was a good look on her.  Much better than the worry she seemed to always wear.  And really, she ought to be proud after a performance like that. 

"That was excellent, young man!" the music teacher said.  His eyes sparkled as if he was suddenly planning out the entire music program next year to revolve around this kid.

Ralphie ducked his head.  Quietly, he said, "It's easier to talk with my hands."

Flora gasped, then tapped him on the shoulder and signed, "You talk with your hands?!"

Aww geeze.

Then, shockingly, Ralphie signed back, "You know sign!?"

"My dad taught me!"

Zelda's head snapped around to face Link, and suddenly her hands were flying.  "Where did you learn sign?"

Oh.  Oh geeze. 

"I was selectively mute as a kid.  Now Flora talks enough for the both of us."

Across the room, Flora was showing Mr. Bosk how she knew how to play chopsticks and explaining that her dad played the piano, but they didn't have one in their apartment any more, and Mr. Bosk was saying, "Oh, that's very nice," while also telling Ralphie about the different opportunities that would be available for him to play the piano at school.

Zelda looked at him as if she was seeing him for the first time.  "Ralphie's the same way."

"He seems like a sweet kid."

"He is."  Then, "I wish I could be half as sweet."

Link hesitated.  "Don't know about that. Wouldn't want you to melt in the rain."

The corner of her mouth lifted, and--oh.  Oh no, she was pretty.

The grumpy man lifted his voice and interrupted.  "Let's get down to it.  How likely is my kid to get in here?"

Every adult in the room tensed.  Ms. Jones cleared her throat.  "Second grade is very competitive this year.  We only have one open spot."  Link's stomach twisted.  At least when he and Flora had to turn the spot down, Ralphie might get it.

"But we do of course make accommodations for siblings.  We look at each child's application individually, and determine admissions, but then if one sibling got in, we would admit both."  She smiled at the grumpy couple.

Then she turned, and smiled at Link and Zelda.

Not one of them and then the other.  The two of them together.

As if this information would be relevant.

The grumpy couple relaxed, and fell into a hushed conversation about how their younger child might be able to get in.

Link and Zelda held absolutely still.  Neither one of them seemed to be breathing.

At the end of the tour, back in the main office, Ms. Jones handed Zelda the code of conduct, and handed Link and the grumpy couple a folder with information about how to apply.  The first page in the folder pocket had a chart with tuition.

The price for two elementary school kids was highlighted, and that was so weird that Link didn't manage to feel sick at the price.  Instead, he felt a little dizzy.

He felt as if he were outside himself, looking down as he asked, "Can we get another copy?" and for reasons he couldn't explain added, "I'm known to lose things."

He passed the folder over to Zelda so she would see the highlighted price.  She would see the suggestion hanging between them in bright yellow.

Her voice sounded strange when she asked, "Is this amount good for step siblings as well?"

"Yes, of course!"

Link swallowed.

The kids skipped down the stairs outside as they left, Ralphie actually laughing.

Link and Zelda had yet to look at each other.

"I..." he started, then had to swallow and start again.  "I was going to take Flora for ice cream.  If the two of you want to join us."

She bit her lip, watching the kids.  Quietly, she said, "She's a shoe in, isn't she?"

"The word genius has been kicked around a few times, yes.  She's too bored at school.  And when she gets bored, she...makes her own projects.  Those get disruptive, and the administration has strongly suggested we find somewhere else that's better suited."

Zelda nodded.  Then turned and looked at him.  "But you don't have the money."

He swallowed down the embarrassment, because it was a useless thing to be embarrassed about.  "I don't have the money.  She's got a full scholarship already to Mabe Elementary.  That--you remember it."  It was okay.  Not the best.  Not here. "And we're on the wait list for the National Academy, which is free." He sighed.  

"It's...hard as a single parent," she said.

"Smooth."

"Thank you.  Your...wife?"

"She died.  When Flora was very small."

"I'm so sorry."

He let it pass.  "Your husband?"

"We weren't married, and he's not in the picture."

"Ah."

For a moment she said nothing, just staring at him.  "I really want Ralphie to come here."

Link nodded.  "This would be good for him.  He's already coming out of his shell."

"That's your daughter."

"Well.  I think he'll do well here even without her."

They stared at each other.

"I have an idea," she said.

He huffed laugh, because...what?  This was ridiculous.  How desperate did they have to be to even consider...He dragged a hand through his hair. "I don't even know where we'd start with that."

"Let's...let's start with ice cream."  She nodded, the matter settled.  The ball rolling.

He took a breath and nodded.  "Ice cream."

#Zelda #my fic #Castletown Academy