Father-son time :D

crystal clear

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: five times other people realized melissa was in love with you and the one time she realized it herself

warnings: mostly fluff, reader gets called a slur but it isn’t written

note: sorry i’ve been slow on updating, it’s finals week and a relative has had some a health scare :/

ava

when ava introduced you to the other teachers in the break room, she truly wasn’t going to give them much of a glance. a new teacher here that understood all the references she throws out instead of squinting? now that was someone she could hang out, and party, with outside of work.

but ava coleman is nothing if not observant. she sees the way melissa is struggling not to stare at you, the way her blinking looked almost forced. she brushes it off. you’re hot. at least she knows melissa isn’t blind, being down a teacher when she just hired one would suck.

it wasn’t until months later that ava actually noticed just how much of melissa’s attention was specifically for you. jacob had gotten you hooked on some show, now the two of you were excitedly talking about last night’s episode. ava listened to none of the nerdy word vomit coming from the two of you, but instead watched melissa gaze at you while you spoke. the soft look in her eyes and the barely noticeable smile almost made ava laugh, but she kept quiet.

this could be fun.

jacob

movie night this week was replaced by you and jacob watching the two hour finale of your show together. just as you got your snacks and drinks spread out, as well as every throw pillow you owned, and the ones jacob brought, arranged into a makeshift mega-couch, the buzzer of your apartment went off.

you scrambled to your feet, “melissa is here!”

jacob nearly choked on a swedish fish, “melissa? melissa like schemmenti?”

“what other melissa do we both know?” you laugh as you buzz her in, “she caught up so that she would watch with us,” you say with a big smile. jacob had thought melissa wouldn’t come to this movie night, the way barbara, janine, and gregory didn’t for tonight, and ava never came to any, claiming she was ‘too fine’ for the occasion. they didn’t watch thisv show, neither did melissa, until now.

“yeah… us,” he mutters under his breath.

“what?”

“nothing!”

jacob watches you nearly bouncing when you hear the knock on the door, rushing to answer it. he hears a muffled mel! followed by hey sweetheart. no one else, except barbara, could call her mel. he tried once and got a glare that still haunts his dreams. she was so easy to reply to you with a pet name, too. usually she called everyone dude, or kid, or just plain you. but not you, no, you got sweetheart.

jacob was almost convulsing, the realization was just too good. he covered his mouth in order to not scream. melissa schemmenti, notorious hardass, had a big, fat crush on you. he squeals at the thought.

“do not tell me you looked at a spoiler jacob abernathy hill!” you shout as you walk back in.

“abernathy?” melissa laughs, stopping the second you look at her, before looking at jacob for an answer.

he stiffens, “nope. just super excited to see this all happen.”

janine

being yanked by the sleeve into her classroom like a raggedy anne doll was not what janine expected on a monday morning. jacob shut the door and turned to look at janine, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“i have got to tell you something,” jacob says with excitement practically oozing from him.

“what is it? is barbara okay?” janine asks quickly.

“no, no. barbara is fine, it’s something good. i’m not going to spoil the big surprise, i wanna see it on your face,” jacob answers, “but i’ll give you a hint.”

“oh my god, jacob. please just get to the point.”

“yes, sorry,” he clears his throat, “melissa has got one of the biggest crushes i’ve ever seen, second only to yours on grego-”

janine smacks a hand over his mouth, “uh-uh. who is it?”

“i can’t tell you!” jacob sing-songs as he rushes from her classroom.

the next week has janine practically stalking melissa around every corner. she watches her hold the door for you, shove jacob out of the way so she can get the last iced tea, roll her eyes aggressively when ava spoke, hold tacks for you as you hung up the new monthly decorations, then hold your hand as you stepped down from the from the chair.

janine saw in real time how melissa’s tough exterior dropped with you. she watched her handle you so gently, anyone would think you were made from glass, but you didn’t seem to notice. it was so normal for you to see this side of melissa, you couldn’t see that it was different. janine scurried to her classroom to happy dance quickly before calming herself, as much as janine is capable, before leaving to get the kids from the art room.

gregory

thankfully, janine’s knowledge of melissa’s feelings for you did not make front page news or into the morning announcements. janine felt it a safer choice for her and jacob if they just kept this secret to themselves, which left gregory in the dark.

gregory only heard mutters of your name and melissa’s, which gave him some sort of direction about their whisperings. he looks towards you, seeing you leaned into melissa while looking at something on her phone. totally normal. gregory continued to eat his also totally normal sandwich, boiled chicken is not weird.

it feels a little less normal after janine called melissa a bad teacher, leaving janine unprepared for the might of courtney’s troublemaking. when the kids are at recess, gregory starts towards the lounge but is stopped by voices inside your classroom. he stops to listen, suddenly intrigued.

“do you think she’s right, though? she wouldn’t just say that normally,” melissa says, her voice tense and sad.

“no, i don’t think she’s right. she got an ego trip from thinking it was a real requested transfer and it spilled over, i don’t think she meant it,” your voice is calm, soothing in a way.

“are you sure?”

you laugh softly, “of course. you’re one of the best teachers in the world. i know it, janine knows it, hell, stanley tucci knows it.” your words make melissa laugh, something she very much needed it seemed.

gregory feels the need to take just a tiny peek. he sees your arm around melissa’s shoulders, her head on your shoulder while yours rests on hers, your fingers gently playing with the loose curls in her hair. melissa looks relaxed, content even. he’d never seen her showing physical affection to anyone, except the occasional side hug to barbara. but she was leaning on you, playing with the hem of your shirt as she spoke, letting you playing with her hair.

gregory stepped away from the door and started briskly walking to the lounge. so that’s why jacob and janine were so giggly about you two.

barbara

barbara knows her friend very, very well. she saw the look she gave you the first time she met you. she also clocked every other look melissa has sent your way since. at first she thought melissa was just checking you out, but after a few weeks the heat in her gaze turned to cartoonish heart eyes bulging out of her head.

barbara was no fool, she saw how you acted with melissa. it didn’t slip her mind once that you also had feeling for the red head. she watched the dance between you two, smiling at the fact her best friend was so happy, even if she didn’t realize it. barbara keeps her smile to herself.

legendary schools was a hyperactive bull running through abbott elementary’s very delicate china shop. parents were snapping at teachers left and right, one setting off melissa’s ‘fight-or-fight’ response. jacob walks in, babbling about a commercial. he almost asks where you are so you be part of the conversation for the take-down plan, but he’s cut off by yelling in the hallway.

everyone rushes out to see the mother of one of your students in your face. barbara can see that you’re trying not to cry at the cruel words, but she also sees how you’re holding your own. you don’t yell back, only speaking when the mother takes a breath. a word barbara cannot and will not repeat strikes through the air, silencing everyone around you. your face drops immediately, looking like you’d been harshly slapped.

melissa is walking down the hall before anyone can stop her, immediately in front of you. “you got some nerve talking like that around here. what is this, 1951?” melissa barks at the parent, holding herself back from swearing at and beating the living day lights out of someone on this seemingly normal thursday afternoon.

“you have teachers in this school pushing their own shit onto our kids, and you’re defending it? you’ve got a cross around your neck!” the mother yells.

“liberation movements are part of the curriculum. i asked the kids what three topics they were most interested in and we covered those, i didn’t choose,” you try reasoning from behind melissa, she won’t let you move from your spot.

barbara heads over and speaks to the mother with a plastic smile, “i’m going to have to ask you to leave, the school day is done. i’m sure you’d prefer to re-educate your child with some ignorance at home, correct?”

ava leads the mother away and barbara focuses on you; your breathing is fast and you can’t tear your eyes from the floor, lip wobbling. melissa’s hands gently go to your shoulders, you barely nod before she’s pulling you into a hug. barbara can see that melissa is whispering to you, but she can’t make out the words, she just sees you nod. you pull away from melissa slowly before taking off to your classroom to get your stuff and leave.

barbara comes to melissa’s side, “going back to your place?” melissa nods and follows you down the hall.

she filled in barb later that you watched golden girls on the couch until you fell asleep against melissa’s shoulder. barbara watched the muted smile on melissa’s lips struggle against her efforts to conceal it. lord this woman was whipped.

melissa

melissa knew she loved you, but truthfully not to the extent in which she did. she had spent so long convincing herself she cared about you the same she cared for all her friends, that she didn’t see the love for you was different. somewhere between you bringing her lattes and her letting you use her lap as a pillow on movie nights, the lines between what was friendship and what was maddening love for you blurred.

melissa’s first hint that she had feelings for you should’ve been when she started looking for you. it was so small but when she realized she was doing it, she’d blush and force herself to look down. during meetings she watched you take notes, then watched as those notes slowly turned to doodles of flowers and fossils. you’d given her a very accurate drawing of a bumble bee after an ava-centered meeting. you’d told her it was because her name meant honeybee in greek, before walking back down to your classroom, leaving melissa with honeybees buzzing in her chest.

—

the day she actually realized she had full on, gross, huge feelings for you, you’d been running late. you ran into the break room with a mug already in hand, bag haphazardly over your shoulder. everyone collectively looked at you with a little bit of shock.

with a stern face you stated back, “speak now or forever keep your two cents. i’m not a fan of staring.”

immediately all eyes dropped back down, except for melissa’s. she just kept watching you move about with quick steps, pouting at the change in the normal routine. she moves to the coffee maker and pours you a cup, using the creamer you prefer from the fridge. you only responded with a relieved smile and a mouthed ‘thank you.’

she watched you hurriedly get your classroom ready for the students, a small smile across her rosy lips. “you want help or are you enjoying the crazy chicken dance?”

you huffed at her, “ha ha, schemmenti,” your fake glare dropped, “could you pass out the science quizzes? they’re on my desk.”

melissa looks over your desk as she grabbed the papers, taking note of the knickknacks and pictures. the funko pop of dorothy from golden girls makes her smile, so does the sketchbook with a bee sticker on the cover.

she passed out the quizzes, and helped you prep the whiteboard for the day. you chatted lightly, but mostly just moved around each other while music played. it was so incredibly peaceful, the ease of it made her feel this warmth in her chest.

“thank you for helping me, melissa. truly. you didn’t have to,” you say as you finish rearranging the classroom chore chart.

“it’s no problem, really… i like spending time with you,” melissa says tentatively, gauging your reaction.

any nervous energy she may have had dissipates when you smile and duck your face down. you look back up at her, shy smile on your lips, “i like spending time with you too.”

you walked with her to get the kids from drop off, standing just a little bit closer than usual.

—

today was different. this beautiful saturday morning with you practically pulling her around the flea market. you inspected every item on the table with equal curiosity, always showing melissa your favorite things and things you think she’d like. her smile never fades and her eyes never leave you.

as you finish having lunch under the large center tent, she sees your eyes widen with excitement.

“what? what is it?” melissa says through her final bite of a hotdog.

you grab her hand and pull her towards what she now sees as the mini petting zoo. your immediately cradling the face of a goat, baby talking it to high heaven. she walks up next to you, gently petting the top of the goats head.

“he likes you,” she says.

“only him?” you say with a laugh, watching another goat approach, now wanting the attention his friend was getting from you two.

melissa laughs to hide her shock at your words before facing you, “no, definitely not just him.”

your smile grows at her words, the way you bite your lip makes melissa feel a little faint. thankfully she gets a moment to breathe when you’re distracted by a piglet coming towards you, making you squeal in delight. in this moment, melissa was sure she loved you.

melissa stands back up after bit, going over to grab both of you a lemonade. when she walks back, the words she hears only solidify her thoughts.

an older gentleman approaches you, “you and your wife are a beautiful couple.”

his words clearly shock you, “oh,” but she sees you push it down before responding with a kind smile, “why thank you, that’s very sweet! she’s definitely the beautiful one.”

when you turned, you see melissa and immediately move towards her. she wordlessly hands you a lemonade, which you accept as well as loop your arm with hers. she’s quiet as you walk back to the car and place your purchases in the backseat.

before she can start the car, you place a hand on hers, “you okay? you’re just a little quiet.”

“yeah, sweetheart. never been better,” she says, squeezing your hand. she relishes in your tugging her arms and hugging it, stretching across the console to rest you head on her shoulder as she drives you back to her place for dinner and a movie, as always.

melissa ann schemmenti realized she was big time in love with you that day.

not sure if i love this but let me know what y’all think :)

Women of Abbott Elementary Having a Crush on You (Headcanons)

A/N: I hope I did these ladies some justice because I love them all very dearly. If you guys would like more Abbott content, please let me know! Headcanons are under the cut

Ava Coleman

✧･ﾟ The most obviously flirtatious out of everyone here 

✧･ﾟThe moment she sees you, she knows you’re fine and she wants a piece of you

✧･ﾟ And whatever Ava Coleman wants, she gets 

✧･ﾟShe’d come to the teacher’s lounge every morning just to say good morning and tease you

✧･ﾟGregory Eddie who? 

✧･ﾟEver since you got to the school, any time he speaks when you’re in the room she completely ignores him or tells him to be quiet 

✧･ﾟCalls you a whole bunch of nicknames like baby girl, princess, sugar boo, etc

✧･ﾟWhen you walk away, she’s always staring off after you and proceeds to tell the rest of the staff how gorgeous you are 

✧･ﾟIt gets annoying and uncomfortable for them when she’s constantly like “I hate to see her leave but i love watching her walk away. That body was blessed by Beyonce herself, damn.”

✧･ﾟYou become the first person to know any of her shenanigans 

✧･ﾟAlways calls you into her office and says it’s important, but really she just wants your opinions on her amazon orders 

✧･ﾟLittle do you know she’s just keeping tabs on what you like so she can shower you in surprise gifts here and there 

✧･ﾟYou catch little moments of her being really genuine, and while she’d usually brush them off with the others, she lets them linger when she’s with you

✧･ﾟThat’s how you know she’s got it bad for you, when she breaks that composure and shows you the vulnerability that she doesn’t let anyone else see 

✧･ﾟWhen she catches on that you’re into her just as much, she definitely doesn’t see a point in waiting anymore 

✧･ﾟNo one’s around when she asks and she definitely hovers over you when she asks you out

✧･ﾟMaybe leaning up against the door frame/wall with one arm up to make sure you don’t run off, or she circles you like a vulture- anything to make sure you stay right where she wants you 

✧･ﾟ“Look, baby, you know we got this Kate/Leo Titanic thing going on. Let me take you out. We can see where this goes.” 

✧･ﾟIn which she takes you on the date of a LIFETIME, the rest is history

Barbara Howard

✧･ﾟBarbara Howard is a lady of class. She takes her time with things, even if she wants something very badly 

✧･ﾟBut with that, she wants to make sure that she does everything *right* and with precision 

✧･ﾟWhen you started working, she didn’t seem to notice you much. She made sure to be polite and endearing when she needed to be, but nothing more than that 

✧･ﾟThen, you started making light conversation. You’d even made her laugh a few times, and when you got her on a tangent about gardening or about her favorite music, she noticed something change 

✧･ﾟShe certainly looked at you different and she was sure that she liked you much more now than most of the teachers, maybe as much as she liked Melissa

✧･ﾟSo much so that she started to invite you to sit at her lunch table, and she’d make sure to stop by your room every afternoon to check on you while her students were at recess

✧･ﾟPeople knew it was serious when she went out of her way to do so

✧･ﾟEveryone whispered and drew their theories, but Melissa would be the one to ask in which Barbara Howard would admit… Yes, she liked you more than a coworker.

✧･ﾟWhen she’d realized even more what she liked about you, her affection grew stronger and she started doing little things for you like giving advice on how to deal with difficult children, offering you a hug here and there whenever you needed one, offering to join her during her nail appointments between school hours if you were feeling particularly overwhelmed, and there were even a few times that she’d stood up to people for you that caught the others and yourself completely off guard 

✧･ﾟAnd every time that happened, she’d turn right around and that hard exterior would melt. She’d immediately go soft for you and make sure you were okay and that you weren’t hurt

✧･ﾟBarbara would really wanna tell you at the absolute perfect time, but of course, life doesn’t really work out that way

✧･ﾟShe’d probably save it for something big, like at the Christmas party she and Melissa always have together and she’s even planning it so that it really really means something 

✧･ﾟBut it definitely would just go completely wrong and there would be plenty of mishaps that would get her frustrated enough to retreat back into her room 

✧･ﾟIn which you’d seek her out and knock on her door to ask her what was wrong 

✧･ﾟShe’d close the door behind you and the lights would be dim since it was after school hours and she’d reach for your hand very delicately to say, 

✧･ﾟ“Y/N… Sweetheart, I- I like you very much. And in more than a professional coworker way. You are everything I’ve been looking for, and I’d like to take you out to dinner sometime.” There would definitely be a moment of silence between the two of you before she’d start second guessing herself once again and say, “I’m very sorry if I’ve crossed any boundaries. I should’ve never said anything at all.” 

✧･ﾟYou’d have to tell her that you liked her too almost immediately or else the whole thing would be called off. When you did admit your feelings, though, she’d smile very softly and hold you closer, maybe she’d even give you a very soft kiss to your cheek 

✧･ﾟShe wouldn’t even ask you where you wanted to go or what to do because she has had the perfect date planned out for MONTHS, but you’d love it regardless. Barbara Howard knows exactly how to make things perfect always.

Janine Teagues

✧･ﾟSweet baby angel Janine is so obvious when she has a crush

✧･ﾟSeriously, the minute she first saw you she was like *heart eyes motherfucker* 

✧･ﾟShe’d be really sweet and would be the first to welcome you to Abbott, and would probably ramble your ear off about the other teachers, advice to deal with the students, and then would have a whole bunch of questions about you 

✧･ﾟShe’s like the personification of sunshine whenever she sees you and it’s adorable 

✧･ﾟEvery morning, she’d make sure to say hello to you and would hype you up like

✧･ﾟ“We’re gonna have a great day today, Y/N!” and would try to high five you 

✧･ﾟLots of unintentional innuendos when she’s trying to be wholesome, to which she’ll listen to herself and then immediately be like “I didn’t- Ya know what, I gotta go-” 

✧･ﾟAlways sits next to you at lunch and tells you everything that’s going on with her day

✧･ﾟAnd vice versa, she’d listen to everything going on in your world and offer you support and validation because to her, you deserve every last bit of it 

✧･ﾟWhen Melissa had her over for cooking lessons, she’d bring you leftovers from the next day because she’s always thinking about things she can do for you 

✧･ﾟJacob would finally be the one to tell her she needed to go for it, and she’d be incredibly nervous to tell you (as if you don’t already know) 

✧･ﾟShe’d probably find you walking out at the end of the day and would pull you aside right out of the school and say something like 

✧･ﾟ“Okay- Okay, this is scary and weird, but I’m just gonna do it, okay?” She’d take a deep breath and very quickly admit, “I like you a lot, Y/N. And it’s okay if you don’t like me back- We can just stay friends! I don’t want to ruin everything we have, but I also can’t ignore that I really *really* like you a lot, I’m just really sorry if that’s weird or overbearing-” 

✧･ﾟTo which you would cut her off and admit that you liked her too

✧･ﾟShe’d give you the BIGGEST, prettiest and goofiest smile you’d ever seen her wear in all the time you’d known her 

✧･ﾟDefinitely would be kinda awkward because she wasn’t expecting to get this far, but she’d make sure to plan a very cute, personal date with you full of the fluffiest romance 

Melissa Schemmenti

✧･ﾟWhere to begin with Melissa Schemmenti 

✧･ﾟWhen she likes someone, she knows it and she has every intention of winning them over. Out of all the women (even Ava), Melissa has the absolute most game 

✧･ﾟThe moment you arrive she knows that she thinks you're cute. It only gets better the longer she talks to you and the more she gets to know you 

✧･ﾟDefinitely calls you little pet names like “hon”, “sweetheart”, “angel”, the works

✧･ﾟShe’d always be knocking on your door during her breaks and invade your classroom while you were teaching, just smiling ear to ear to see you in your element with the kids 

✧･ﾟShe’d also wait for you in the halls before classes, before breaks, and before it was time for the end of the day. She always insists on walking you out to your car to make sure no one tries any funny business with you 

✧･ﾟWhenever she got her fancy latte in the morning, she’d always bring you one just to cheer you up 

✧･ﾟAnd any time you were having a hard day, she’d be the first to find you to offer you comfort. Sometimes that meant telling you a weird Schemmenti family story that sounded unreal, other times it was cute joke, and when it was dire, she’d make sure to offer you sweet words of affection and try to let you know how wonderful you are to build you right back up 

✧･ﾟPeople would know it was getting real because Melissa would absolutely start getting territorial over you 

✧･ﾟIf someone so much as breathed around you and it *seemed* like they were interested, she’d start that growling and pacing back and forth like a menacing linebacker 

✧･ﾟIt would get to a point where she couldn’t take it anymore knowing that you weren’t officially hers that she’d find you after everyone was gone from school, maybe in your classroom once Mr. Johnson left for the day

✧･ﾟYou’d ask her what was wrong and she wouldn’t waste any time making her way right up to you and kissing you right on the lips, caressing over your hair sweetly just to drive it home even more 

✧･ﾟShe’d say something like “I like you. I like you a lot, actually, and I think you should come to my place for dinner this week… If you’re interested.” 

✧･ﾟAnd how could you say no to her after a kiss like that? FIND MORE GAY SHIT HERE

For the prompt thingy you reblogged—BTS for chapter 8 of Crocodile and Parakeet, “Foils” :)

(I should note that I’ve never really watched a DVD commentary before but here’s what I was thinking when I wrote this :))

Overview:

When writing Trust Issues I was already exploring how Ava and Gregory were foils naturally. Then I saw people discussing the possibility of an Ava/Gregory/Janine throuple and while I respect people who believe in it, I genuinely don’t think it could ever work because Ava and Gregory would piss each other off so much. (And in my head they would tug of war over Janine.) Then I thought “what if they were married and fighting over the same girl?” Obviously that didn’t end up being how this fic played out but that was ultimately how this fic was born. They both, to me, just would take such different approaches to wooing Janine and I thought it would be an interesting way to explore how Ava and Gregory are foils. (I also think this helps Janine explore her sexuality a bit, something she didn’t really get to do with Tariq).

Passages:

Like many public school teachers, Janine was forced to work multiple jobs to make ends meet. She’d gotten the evening shift at one of the local Starbucks, and there was one woman who showed up every time she was on shift.

I follow a bunch of teachers on Instagram and Iove that they share their stories of being on the job and how their lives were/are affected by teaching. A lot of them talked about how, especially with a single income, that a lot of times they had to work a second or third job to make ends meet so I was like “well Janine has a nice ass apartment close ish to a city and a single income so it’d be more realistic if she worked a second job”. I also love the idea of a coffee shop au so I decided to make it a barista job. (I also figured that the shifts she could take on would align more relationally with her schedule, but I could be wrong on this because I’ve never worked at Starbucks.)

From taking her order, Janine learned that her name was Ava. She was tall and curvy, with long, dark hair and a signature smirk that caused Janine to flush every time it was directed at her. Ava always wore subtle gold jewelry and came in with new acrylics every week, so Janine assumed that the woman had money.

I wanted to incorporate subtle indicators of wealth because I feel like they’re not super emphasized on the show. (I feel like Ava is wealthier than she lets on, with her influencer incomes and her boyfriend being a famous basketball player, though that second factor isn’t applicable to this fic.) It also helps isolate her presence in the fic to Janine so that Janine senses that Ava has some other intentions other than buying a drink.

It always begged the question as to why Ava would come to Starbucks when she could clearly afford better coffee.

I included this line in particular because I know people who don’t love Starbucks coffee and I thought it be a funny line to include. Also Ava to me comes off as the kind of person who’d have the potential to be picky and randomly pretentious about coffee.

[…]

“I’m sorry,” Janine said as she pulled away, and Gregory’s face was back to its stoic blankness. “I like you, like a lot, just… not like that.” She looked down at her lap and fiddled with her fingers, worried that Gregory would insult her or feel as if he was led on. She wasn’t trying to lead him on, she honestly wasn’t, she just didn’t realize that she was only attracted to him platonically, not romantically.

“I didn’t try to lead you on,” Janine said, her voice growing softer with every word. She was also trying to hide her panic, which was growing with every second that Gregory remained silent. If there was anything Janine hated more than conflict, it was silence. She talked more when she anticipated an awkward silence, though it often served to just make things feel more awkward.

Gregory merely sighed, seeming to sense that Janine would say that.

“It’s okay.” He actually looked a little relieved. “I’m just glad you told me now.” Gregory still looked a bit defeated, which made Janine look down guiltily, but then Gregory was wrapping his arm around her again.

“Hey, Janine. It’s fine.”

Janine wanted to cry. He was so attentive, even when he knew he was being rejected, and Janine wished that she felt more attracted to him for his sake rather than feeling obligated to be attracted to him because he was attracted to her.

One of my trope pet peeves is when fic authors make possible love interests assholes for no reason. Like obviously sometimes it’s warranted (especially if they’re an asshole in canon) but otherwise to me it feels like a cop out. At the time I wrote this (and I still stand by this), I felt like Gregory would be disappointed that Janine didn’t like him back, but he would understand that she’s still trying to figure things out. She’d been with one man for 12 years, mainly her formative years where she would’ve otherwise explored aspects of herself like sexuality and crushes and dating and how to be single. And I felt like Janine would feel guilty because the whole thing, on the surface, appears like a set up. She asks him herself on a date, already a massive achievement for her, and then they make strides throughout the date just for Janine to realize in the moment that she doesn’t want him. Ultimately it was easier for me to write a Gregory rejection than an Ava one. I wanted to showcase that Gregory was mature and capable of growth, that he could be the best friend Janine needed without taking the rejection too personally (or, at least, not actively blame Janine for it).

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 214

The Sign of Three

Here it isssss, nearly a week late (oops). The eighth episode of Sherlock. It’s only right to watch it today after buying the manga version of The Great Game

“The Sign of Three”

Plot Description: Sherlock tries to give the perfect best man speech at John’s wedding when he suddenly realizes a murder is about to take place

Gregory is BIG MAD about some crime family always getting away from Scotland Yard

And Sherlock ruined his big arrest by being bad at speech writing

(What if it didn’t take me three hours to watch this episode? WHAT IF I FREE MYSELF OF THAT TONIGHT??)

Mmmmm the foreshadowing of Sherlock leaving John’s wedding early.

That was a nice bit of staging. Sherlock bringing taking his tux to get on and saying “to battle” and cutting to…who I think was John’s superior officer in the Army, iirc

(See, it took almost nine whole minutes for my first pause)

I remember liking the one bridesmaid, Janine. She’s fun. And she is a good balance for Sherlock’s seriousness

Sherlock’s REALLY overstepping boundaries preparing for this episode. And he is…questionable with kids. Like this kid thinks he’s cool but maybe we shouldn’t be letting kids see ACTUAL beheadings. Just a thought

The JEALOUSY pouring out of a Sherlock, but at least Mary’s having a good time. And good for her, it’s her wedding day

It’s just….this phone call between the Holmes brothers. Sherlock is trying to force things to stay the same as much as he can, but Mycroft knows better. He knows things change when people get married. But Sherlock is either hopeful or delusional in his stubbornness. It’s hard to watch

Not the Redbeard mentionnnnnn

God…I could go for a steak right now…

Oh geez. Sherlock’s not too good with sentiment and expressing it…or even reading aloud other people’s affection and well wishes for the couple

All these years and Sherlock still doesn’t know Greg’s name.

And John’s not too good at expressing affection, particularly in the form of asking his best friend to be his best man…especially when Sherlock doesn’t seem to get the hint…at all

It is a nice speech, though

Ugh…the way they’re practically treating him like a child. Fuck. I hate this.

Isn’t this case the one where the weapon is thought to be or actually is an icicle??

Omg no. It was funnier. Molly’s boyfriend thought it was a weapon fashioned of compounded flesh and bone…like some sort of…meat dagger. Which I suppose is better than Lestrade’s “we’re looking for [someone with dwarfism].” MAYBE??

Wait, HE didn’t solve it either?? Oh. Because it’s gonna be tied to someone trying to murder Major Sholto

I remember people RAVING about the “obvious bi lighting” during John’s stag night…………….actually that’s real

They’re so stupid.

Omg… she…she was in a show with Andrew Scott. I watched a LOT of kind of bad stuff just to see him back in the day. I think her character dated Andrew’s character

Can she not tell they’re drunk af??? “He’s clueing for looks” like…COME ONNNNNNNNN

Ew I hate how loud the eye blinking noises are here. You didn’t need to do that.

Mrs Hudson is so precious. She’s trying so hard to prepare these two for the changes that WILL happen once John gets married. But she’s also so funny because you really do think she’s just this sweet old lady who has never done anything wrong or wild in her life and yet she was married to a guy who ran a drug cartel

Ohhhhhh the one lady who was tricked by the dude assuming the identities of recently deceased guys to use their apartments to have sex (which is a really weird crime, sure). But she’s a lil kinky and thinks his ploy is clever. I LOVE her. Ok but like…LET HER SPEAK!! She’s got her head right about her ideal man

Honestly I would have absolutely wanted someone to say they could go on about the depth and complexity of my sweaters back in 2014

Omg that kid just 100% earned his headless nun pics.

Oh yeah, Mary’s not gonna miss out on either saving Major Sholto’s life or solving his murder even on her wedding day. Again, good for her

“You are not a puzzle solver, you’re a drama queen” I forgot how funny that line was…yeah. So someone stabbed the major some hours ago but his belt kept him from feeling it and also kept the blood compressed in his body, I GUESS

DO they solve who it was??

So here’s the thing about Janine. She’s so normal (compared to everyone else in this show) and she’s really just here for a good time. She finds Sherlock interesting and funny but she’s not besotted like John or Molly or Irene

Ok. Looking back, the photographer was a bit of an obvious answer…but still. Pretty good solve

He played (and possibly wrote) the song they did their first dance to???? 🥹 but then he still leaves early 🥺 partly because he realizes they don’t need him around since he deduced Mary’s pregnant

Hello can I request where draco in fourth year having a crush on a hufflepuff reader but acts as arsehole cuz he doesn’t know how to show affection , leading it to her avoiding him which makes him depressed about what did he do wrong ?

Hi love. Thanks for the request.💕

I love writing Draco x hufflepuff!reader stories! I am a sucker for a slytherin x hufflepuff pairing.

I added a few extra details here and here. Hope you like it. X

Hopeful (Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader)

Word count: 2100 sorry got a bit carried away. 😅

Warnings: None. Soft!Draco being an absolute blubbering idiot.

Draco’s thoughts are written in green

Spring had arrived. 

It could be felt in the cool and gentle zephyr that made the shiny new leaves on top of the once barren and dead trees rustle. 

Daisies were in full bloom and the wind had managed to carry some of the petals away—making them fall to the ground, acting like a harbinger of the fast approaching summer. 

Draco couldn’t be bothered if it was spring, or autumn or winter. 

In that particular moment, all he wanted to do was get away from the Slytherin common room and Pansy Parkinson. 

He had taken her to the Yule ball and things had sort of fizzled out afterwards. He couldn’t get himself to see her as anything other than a friend. 

Having ran all the way to a far and secluded area of the Hogwarts grounds, Draco leaned against a tree trunk and panted heavily in an attempt to catch his breath. 

“Are you—are you alright?” 

Your voice startled him and he quickly stood up straight to look around. 

You were sitting criss-crossed on the grass with your transfigurations textbook opened on your lap. Your shirt sleeves were rolled up and your yellow and black tie hugged very loosely around your neck. 

“Fine.” He muttered as he slowly sat down noticing a single daisy tucked behind your ears. 

After sitting there in complete silence for the next few minutes, he finally spoke up. 

“What are you even doing here anyway?” 

“Just wanted some peace and quiet to be honest.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “It’s a beautiful day.” 

Draco just hummed in response and kept staring at the daisy in your hair that swayed lightly with the breeze. 

“What?” You asked when you noticed. 

“You have—you have a twig stuck in your hair.” 

“A daisy.” You corrected him as you closed your book and moved a bit closer to where he was sitting. “It’s a daisy.” 

“Yeah I know that. I’m not stupid.” He said quickly. “But why?” 

"Well, Daisies are essentially two flowers blended together in complete harmony." You said pulling the daisy out of your free falling hair before putting your hand forward to hand it to him. 

“And?” Draco reluctantly took the flower from you and blinked his eyes in confusion. 

“They are said to resemble innocence—true love even.”  You explained getting comfortable next to him.

“You believe in all that?” Draco scoffed, twirling the flower between his index finger and thumb. He couldn’t tell if the floral fragrance was coming from you or the air but it made him slightly queasy nonetheless. 

“Merlin. No.” You scrunched up your nose. “It just gives me hope I guess.” 

Draco gave you another hum in response. For someone who came up with snarky and sometimes witty comments on the spot, he found himself weirdly tongue tied. 

“I know you were hiding from Pansy by the way.” You remarked, making a small smile pull at his lips. 

“How come?”

“What do you mean how come?” You rolled your eyes. “Everyone can see that she is obsessed with you for some reason that I personally can't seem to comprehend.” 

~~~~~

The next day during potions class, Draco slowly opened his book and started to absently doodle on it with his quill while Snape talked about the upcoming potions essay that had to be done in pairs. 

Draco knew he should be paying attention but he just couldn’t get the interaction between you two out of his head. 

And just when he took a deep breath and decided to focus, a familiar scent started to fill his lungs up. 

Fruity, almost spicy notes of strawberry and pink grapefruit mixed with gardenias, vanilla and musk. It felt like someone had tossed a huge bouquet into the room. 

He knew it was you without even bothering to look up from my book. 

"Ah, Miss y/l/n. Late again." Snape muttered. “Five points from Hufflepuff house.” 

You quietly sat down next to your friend with your head hung low and Draco fought an unexplainable urge to give you a hug. 

"The essay must be done in pairs.." Snape said.

Great. 

"Ronald Weasley and Gregory Goyle." 

This is exactly what I needed right now. Thanks Snape. 

"Blaise Zabini and Hannah Abott." 

The last thing I need is someone weighing my essay down. 

"Draco Malfoy and y/n y/l/n." 

What? 

You turned back to look at Draco and gave him  an apologetic smile and he didn't understand why you kept smiling at him. It's not like the both of you had suddenly formed an unlikely bond with each other. 

Draco scowled at you in return and quickly raised his hand. "May I work on my essay alone?" 

"No. You may not Mr. Malfoy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Draco had been studying in the library for almost an hour. Because you were quietly sitting next to him, his elbows and knees slightly brushed yours every few seconds and as much as he hated to admit it, He secretly enjoyed it. 

Contrary to yesterday, Draco was trying very hard to make a conversation with you. You seemed somewhat offended that he had asked Snape to work on the essay alone. 

“I am happy to do most of the writing if you can look up all the ingredients.” You offered.

You don’t have to do all of that yourself. I am happy to help with the writing too. Is what he should have said. 

“Fine whatever.” He said instead as he reached for a copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. 

That night, Draco stayed up tossing and turning in his bed before giving up on getting any sleep for the night. 

He lethargically walked towards his dresser and put his hands in his blazer pocket pulling out the now dried and pressed daisy from the other day. 

Taking a deep breath, he put the flower in between the pages of his copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. 

You were drawing him in, undoing him, unraveling him even. 

He knew that. 

But did you?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Draco! Open up." 

His head jolted towards the door and He quickly walked over to open it. 

You stood on the other end with books tucked in your arms, wearing your denim shorts and a plain white tank top—looking like summer personified. 

The more time he spent with you, the more he started to notice your quirks. Like that the way your skin glowed as the days got warmer. 

Compliment her. Do it. It’s not Difficult. 

“Did you do something different to your hair?” 

“Uh—no why are you asking.” 

“It just looks a bit strange.” He commented wanting to slap himself. 

"Okay, well are you going to let me in?" You questioned, wondering why he was blocking the way and asking you about your hair. 

Why did you have to wear that God damned tank top-

"Sorry?" You asked stepping inside making his cheeks burn when he realized he wasn’t meaning to say that out loud. 

"Just shut up and get back to working in the essay or whatever it is that you were doing." Draco grumbled feeling embarrassed as he grabbed some fresh parchment. 

Okay. Focus. The Strengthening solution requires...

You stretched a little and pushed your hair away from your face. 

several days to mature...

"Staring is rude Draco." You suddenly interrupted his thoughts as you set your eyes on his—peering right into his soul.

Draco felt like he was giving you some sort of power over him and the possibility of you using that power and leaving him heartbroken made him feel so very vulnerable.

He couldn't take the vulnerability a second longer.

 "I don't think we should study together anymore." He blurted quickly standing up. “It's for the best.”

"Huh?" You stood up contorting your face in total confusion—wondering just what you had done to piss him off. "What's wrong Draco? Did I do something wrong?" 

"Leave. Now." He muttered with his teeth clenched. 

Please don’t go.

"Just go—leave please."

You couldn’t help but feel a sharp sting burning your insides as you gathered all the books that were on the floor and ran made your way towards hufflepuff dormitories with tears threatening to flood your eyes. 

As soon as you ran off, he punched his wall and muttered out the plethora of angry curses when the impact bruised his knuckles.

~~~~~~~~~~~

During the following week, Draco failed to show up to any of your shared classes after you had refused to talk to him after what happened. 

Even if you did manage to see him walking down the halls or walking with Crabbe and Goyle, you noticed that he looked like he hadn’t eaten or slept in days. 

On a Tuesday, Draco looked at the Hufflepuff table during breakfast and when you caught his eye, all you did was look away. 

Everyone at school had their opinions about him—most of them weren’t good opinions. 

But when you were with him under that tree, he seemed different. His smirk was more playful than condescending. It managed to charm you in a way. 

You took a final bite of your toast and gathered all your books, walking to your Potions class. 

His seat still remained empty and you shook your head, trying to snap away from the thoughts of him as you flipped open your book. 

Only it wasn’t your book. 

You didn’t remember writing on the margins and making annotations on your book. 

Running your fingertips along the pages, you flipped to the very first page of the book. 

D. Malfoy was written in ridiculously neat handwriting and you shook your head when you realized that you had grabbed his book with you that day by mistake. 

And just when you were about to put his book away, something fell from in between the pages and fell onto your desk. 

It was the daisy you had woven into your hair the other day. Even in its dried state, the petals remained intact like her had done something to keep them that way.

When class was finally over, you made a quick beeline towards the slytherin dungeons, bumping into people along the way. 

~~~~~~~~~

“Some hufflepuff girl is standing outside the dungeons asking to see you.” Theo shrugged when he saw Draco at the common room sofa. “Says it's urgent.” 

He felt terrified yet so elated as he quickly stood up and made his way outside. 

“Here’s your book.” You said taking a step towards him. “You never told me what’s wrong by the way.” 

“Thank you.” Draco quickly took his book from you and stared at the ground. 

“Why did you stop talking to me y/n?”

“You told me to go away—If I remember correctly.” You said shaking your head at him. “Tell me Draco, what’s wrong?”

“Everything.” He said quietly, meeting your gaze. 

"What do you mean?" 

"You make me feel all weak.....and smiley...and I hate it." He looked at you with agitation.

"Weak?" You ran your  fingers through your hair in confusion. 

"And your ridiculous white tank top." Draco half yelled. 

"What's wrong with my top?" You asked, raising your voice slightly as if you had had enough of this. 

"Nothing is wrong except for the fact that you look stunning in it.” He blurted involuntarily. "It is absolutely distracting when one is trying to study!." 

He watched you open your mouth in shock and close it. Before he could spend another minute trying to solve the riddle that was your expression, you grabbed him by his tie and placed your lips on his. 

His brows furrowed as he kissed you back tenderly. Tasting the sweetness of your lips—pouring out every bit of suppressed passion and adoration he felt for you with his lips.

There was something so strange and euphoric about finally kissing someone he had been longing to kiss for so long. 

Something so magical about holding the person that fits perfectly into his arms. 

Freaking Finally. 

He was slightly disappointed when you slowly backed away, but the glow on your skin and the glossy ness in your eyes made him smile. 

"I guess I'll leave before I realize the consequences of what I have just done." You said softly as you held his face and placed a small peck on his lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, you found a tiny box and an envelope on your desk when you woke up. Your roommate let you know that Draco Malfoy had stopped by late last night when you were asleep and half begged and half threatened her to leave the box on your desk. 

You slowly opened the box and found a bedazzled and whimsical looking daisy necklace, encrusted with gems.  

A Daisy for my daisy. 

You give me hope.

- D.M

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco Taglist: @dracomalfoyisindahouse @dracomalfoys-wh0re @maybesandohnos @justfangirlthingies @desiredmalfoy @dlmmdl @trainintersection @fa-me @dracoswhore007 @paulina1998 @wh0re4blaise @marrymetheonott @quacksonsssandtea @letoof @rvaldez7569 @loloo22 @emma67 @berriemalfoy @thegaudess @itchywitch33 @louweasleymalfoy @lunar0se10 @savagelysarcasticslytherin @fleursbabe @teawineaddict @thebitchybeatle @malfoyxxdraco23 @fantasyfairysworld @trashyvicks @h0ggyw0ggyh0gwarts @l0vely-lupin @linasylveon @amwitherspoon @the-bisexual-bitch

Love you all sm. (if i was unable to tag you, please look into your privacy settings)

Fell free to send me reuests. My other stories can be found here.

Join my taglist here.

- violet-Anne

rakes | chapter two

pairing: regency!Harrison Osterfield x regency!reader

words: 2.1k 

warnings:  bridgerton s1 spoilers, swearing, mentions of sex

a/n: this took me forever to write because i wrote the ending ish and I have even the whole end part planned out lmao. now I just need to write up to it lmao. 

Please Reblog and Like if you enjoy!

series masterlist

You awoke startled, sweaty, and with tears streaming down your face. It had been from a nightmare, of your first season’s debut. You knew that things could not go as horribly wrong that night did, yet, you were afraid deep down it might. 

You could never forget the piercing scream that rang through your body as you watched helplessly, your worst unknown nightmare becoming real in front of you, and being able to do nothing for your parents. 

After sitting in your bed for what seemed like hours, you decided to get dressed at the start making a list of what you had to do in haste to get ready for the season’s rush.

There was so much to do and so little time, so you knew one worry could be put at ease if you planned it all out. At least then your mind would hopefully quiet down the thoughts in your head. 

Sitting near the window with it open, you watched the sunrise, wondering how your dear William was doing. You had left hastily, not even with a goodbye to him. It was too painful to be in Grosvenor square where all your fondest memories had been with your deceased parents. He was of course in those fond memories, yet it was too painful as you saw your father in him, and the man he became because of your father being a parental figure to him.

You wondered how he was handling being the earl, especially without the guidance or help of anyone. Especially since your presence is missing. You wrote to him all the time, yet he had no return address to send it to so you knew not much of how your dearest sibling was doing.

You knew not much of duty of being a man and running an estate and the burden weighed on society of being an earl, yet you knew the pressures and gossip and betrayal all too much so you knew it could not have been easy. 

You only wished as much that you could have stayed for William, yet you knew your body would not let you stay as the fear would crawl into your bones, rotting you into some sort of insane spinster. 

You stretched your body out after sitting for too long on the uncomfortable chair, deciding it was time to head on out- “the earlier the better”- you thought.

As soon as you stepped out into the hall you had turned, and collided with a strong torso, almost falling to the ground. Strong arms had caught you before you took a nasty spill. 

“Pardon me-” you whispered quietly, as you then realized the close proximity of you and the man that had caught you, his face very close to your own. 

He looked disheveled slightly, with his golden locks out of place slightly, and a small amount of dusting of freckles that adorned his face. His icy blue eyes had been staring into yours, almost too cold to even look into, yet you felt a sense of curiosity to capture the color of them in your mind. You also had noticed the closeness of your bodies in this very moment, almost too scandalous to even think of in society’s ton. 

“Apologies, Miss.,” he said with a slightly crooked smile that could make any woman melt at this moment. 

He helped you regain your balance on your own two feet, before heading towards the stairs, giving you a lopsided smile again, nodding at you, and went downstairs.

You were almost too stunned to move from the interaction. You had never been as close as that to a man in your life. It gave you a small chill down your spine, even thinking about him, the mystery man. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts when your maid, Lucy, was walking out of the adjacent room to yours. 

“Madam, shall I fetch the carriage?” she asks you politely, suddenly snapping you out of your entranced state. 

“Yes, we should get going.”

Arriving at the Bridgeton home was, interesting to say the least, in a good way. It had been around noon, after your stop at the modiste, picking up dresses for the most -well- dreaded season, and you had been welcomed by most of the Bridgerton ladies in the drawing-room, embraced by Violet, asking for your time heading to their home. It was quite a shock as the chaos yet love could be felt in the room, as whom you were assuming the two youngest were arguing of some hair ribbon, and two of the other elder brothers of Daphne’s were in some heated debate about god knows what, and one sister was writing in a journal of some sort as the other played the pianoforte. 

“Welcome dear, to our home. I apologize in advance for the chaos, we are getting ready for Elosie’s first season, and our masquerade ball.”

“No need to apologize, Lady Bridgerton. Thank you for letting me stay until William gets in tomorrow. I just couldn’t stay in the house alone.”

“Please call me Violet! And any friend of my family is welcome here. Children, This is Lady Y/L/N.”

“If I am to call you Violet I insist you all call me Y/n” she smiles warmly towards you, “Eloise, could you please show Y/n to her room, I’m sure she is but tired from her journey.”

She comes out of her trance of writing responding to her mother, “Of course Mama.”

As you walk out of the drawing-room with her she looks as if she’s in deep thought. 

“I have so many questions to ask of you! How were you able to travel? I only thought men such as my brother could do so, yet here you are!”

“Well when my parents passed, I just- well, couldn’t stay here, so I ventured off with what my bro- erm, cousin, William had given to me. I went to visit some other cousins in France and had gone off to other parts of Europe. It was better than I had ever imagined. But now my duty is to my family, and the adventure has stopped, for now at least.”

You had stopped walking when you reached a door, that you assumed was your room.  

“That is incredible, I shall wait to ask more of you, later on of course.”

“Why don’t you show me the grounds and I shall tell you more, right now, and you can tell me about yourself, Eloise.”

Her face lit up.

“I would quite enjoy that!”

After walking around their grounds, you had sat on the swings on a tree, telling her all about your adventures, and she told you about herself and even told you quite a bit about Lady Whistledown and her venture in trying to find the writer behind the pen. It had been a few hours, probably nearing dinner time, but you felt at ease with Eloise. At least, you knew you had a friend in her, that hated society almost as much as you,

“I cannot believe you went in the ocean on the beach! Most ladies here would assume it unlady-like!”

“Well, I am especially not one for lady-like behavior! Especially structured by vicious mamas!” you both laugh together at that comment. Oh how you both knew of the shocking behavior of the ton’s mamas. 

“I believe we should head in now, Dinner will soon be ready, and I can only assume you are starving since we only had biscuits earlier.”

You both get up stretching your legs lightly, before heading indoors. 

You felt warmth sitting at the dinner table, though not typical, it felt like they truly loved each other, and actually enjoyed each other as a family, something you had longed for from your own family, especially for William’s sake.

William had never felt like he belonged in your family, at least not fully. The warmth you and your parents tried to give to him almost did not get through his thick skull, that you had accepted him as an esteemed member of the family. You had always wondered if it was because his true father never accepted him until he needed him to fulfill his wants. 

“So, Y/n are you excited for the season?” Anthony cuts through his current conversation, to include you. 

“Probably something of the sort. I am quite intrigued to see how people have changed.”

“Well, most have not, especially the men.” 

You laughed slightly at that. 

“Well do tell whom to stay away from.” you joke.

“If you have not read the most recent lady Whistledown I assume you don’t know.”

“I’m not quite sure I’ve ever heard of a Lady Whistledown?” you question, curiosity getting to the best of you. 

“Lady Whistledown is a gossip writer, under a pen name, whom, however, mentions people in the ton in name, by name in full.” Eloise cuts in.

You raise a brow quizzically. That was unheard of. 

“She mentions you in her most recent edition” Hyacinth mentions, before going back to throwing peas strategically when her mother wasn’t looking at her brother Gregory.  

“I’m sure Eloise has it if she hasn’t already shown you.” now you were fully intrigued. There was truly only one main thing you thought the writer could write about.

“She wrote about Lord Holland today, and might I say he is pretty dreamy.” Francesca pipes up, before earnings glare from Anthony and a kick from Eloise.

“Ow!” 

“If I didn’t do it, Anthony would have and he kicks harder.” 

You giggle at the family’s interactions. You only hoped you could have one as close as the Bridgertons.

“I see we are quite the entertainment for our guest tonight. I guess there’s no need for Eloise to get on the pianoforte. God knows I’m in motion for that.” Benedict adds before earning a kick from Eloise as well. 

“Ow!”

“Back to the topic at hand, I’d stay away from Benedict for certain.” Eloise says, which erupts you five into a fit of giggles, before getting your end of the table gets a hard stare-down from Violet, almost as if to say ‘behave’.

“So I'm assuming other than Daphne missing, the letter C, Colin, must be the one travelling? Daph did mention he would be writing me asking about the best places to travel.”

“Yes, Colin is the one travelling, but was the letter system too obvious of whom is which?” Benedict asks in an amused manner. 

“I think it’s adorable, and if you must know I find it orderly.”

“Don’t tell my mother that, or she won’t stop talking about how ‘Lady Y/n complimented her naming system’.” Benedict jokes.

You laugh before you see Eloise bringing out what you assumed was the gossip sheet. She hands it to you before you read it over, turning slightly pale at the mentions of your family so intimately.

Harrison had made it into town earlier that afternoon, only to be wondering why Mama’s, and Ladies alike- married or not- had been whispering and pointing at him. On the other hand, he had been met with a warm embrace from his wonderful sister Charlotte, and loving Mother, Phil, only to be dragged by Charlotte for her to tell him to read the latest Lady Whistledown, a woman he knew he hadn’t heard of, nevertheless thought he’d fucked. 

He however listened to his sister and her worry, before being shell-shocked by what was on the page. 

“Charlotte what the hell is this? And who the hell wrote it?"

“Lady Whistledown is but the biggest anonymous gossip columnist, and everyone reads it. Haz what am I to do if no suitors show interest when I am eligible for marriage? What if I end up a spinster?!”

“Char, I won’t let that happen I promise you.”

Harrison was determined to make sure charlotte never had to worry. She was the most lovely of any woman on the market and he would make sure she had a shot. 

“Wait Osterfield, you’re saying, you’ll Woo whoever is the most desired by the queen and marry her?” Tom askes very confusedly as to what sparked this in his bestfriend.

“Yes Tom, That is my plan,” Harrison replies before taking a sip of his drink again.

The two men had reunited at the Bridgerton’s gentleman club, talking over Harrison’s not so genius plan, according to Tom.

“Do you know how many mamas loathe even the sight of you right now? Especially because of Lady Whistledown.” Harrison’s face scrunches up, cringing at that. 

“Yes, I know already. But if I can just get in the good graces of Lady Whistledown, then I know any mama will turn around! maybe if I form an attachment with someone she might see that I’m serious about marrying. Don’t you have that cousin? Zendaya?”

“That’s a terrible idea, Harrison. Also, Zendaya is now going to be under my care according to my mother. She told her father, who is ill,  I’d watch out for her during the season to find her a suitable husband.”

Harrison gets a mischievous, conniving look on his face as the gears turn in his brain. “I said suitable Haz! Her father would have a heart attack if you came near her!”

“Fine, but can you at least convince her to show interest in me to the other ladies? So I can find a wife?”

Tom rolls his eyes before downing his drink mentally hating the idea, but agreeing to try for his almost brother,  even if he didn’t think he’d find a wife.

Tags

crossed out  = couldn't tag

@spideyspeaches @greenorangevioletgrass @take-me-to-ny @queenofthepouges @minejungwoo @sheranatic111 @keithseabrook27 @lolooo22​ @webmeupspiderdaddy​

Christophe x childhood friend reader x Kenny, Christophe, Gregory and reader have been friends since gradeschool. Reader was a very emotional person who cared about everyone. She was very sweet yet still helped the boys assassinating people. Reader had always had an obvious crush on Christophe but she never seems get to an direct answer and it really starts to bum her out. So she starts trying to stop showing her feelings to him. It worries people because she starts being more quieter than her normal self. When asked, all she can say ' I just realized that there's something I could never have' and nothing else. It's until reader's parents (who are bakers) get a job opportunity in a town named South Park. It's a very awkward goodbye (with Christophe, it's sad af with Gregory) and she leaves.

As if a switch was pulled, reader goes back to being a sweet and emotional girl (much to her parents delight/relief). We makes lot of new friends and gets a new crush too, Kenny McCormick. She's shy around him at first, much to her friends: Bebe, Wendy, and Nicole's confusion. She confides in them and tells her past troubles with love. They comfort her and tell that it's sure to be different. So reader lightens up around Kenny and they begin a beautiful relationship.

Yet we hit a rough patch when Kenny's womanizing way Catches up with him (Kelly, Tammy, etc) so we naturally get defensive (not to how we were with Christophe but still pretty strained). But worry not, reader (and her friends) win their class a trip to London (they sold 7,777 cookies!!!). Reader is nervous but doesn't stress to hard, it's not like Christophe is still leaving there right? Well after settling into their hotel, Reader and Gregory run into each other and have a heartfelt reunion then reader reunites with Christophe and it's really awkward. So Gregory and Christophe decide to join them on their trip, but something wrong. Christophe seems a lot more open with reader, which confuses reader and Kenny, having connected the dots, tries keeping reader for himself. And poor reader's in a blushy confusing emotional spiral.

I had such a blast writing this. Writing Christophe is mad fun.

Btw, I implied that the events of the movie never happened here, so Wendy and the others never met Gregory or Christophe.

Kenny and Christophe are also pretty mean girls basically but I loved it so much, I couldn't help myself. ^^

(EXCUSE MY BAD FRENCH; IT HAS BEEN YEARS SINCE MY LAST FRENCH LESSONS AND I WAS PRETTY BAD AT IT)

Warnings: Kenny and Christophe are a little OOC I think, swearing, French, Bad French.

____________________________

Christophe x Childhood friend!Reader x Kenny

You hummed as you waited for your best friends in the whole wide world. You had prepared a nice little lunch with self-made sandwiches, lemonade, and brownies.

Your excitement went through the roof, once you heard the door to your secret hideout open. Gregory was the first to come in. “Ah, Y/N, what a lovely surprise!” He said gleamingly and admired the beautifully set table. He put down his backpack and as he did so, your longtime crush strolled in. Cigarette in mouth, dirty all over him and an annoyed expression painted on his face, Christophe.

“Hey, how was the job?” You asked sweetly, as Gregory sat down, and Christophe did so too after a short hesitation. “It went well unti-” “Until zat fucking dumb kid made the wrong zound and made me mess up the whole time plan. Why does no one know what a dying giraffe sounds like?” He ranted, hands moving around hastily, while you and Gregory chuckled. “It’s not funny!” The dark-haired protested while he lit his cigarette. You just smiled.

Despite Christophe’s mean demeanor, you had a huge soft spot for him. “Hey, Christophe?” You asked, demanding his attention, which he gave you, while also taking a bite of a sandwich. “Would you maybe like to hang out sometime?” Gregory pretended to not exist and focused on the suddenly very interesting drink in his hand. He knew you liked their friend. But he also knew Christophe better than anyone else. And the blond knew this couldn’t end well.

“Ah, excuse moi, mais…I just don’t have the time currently.” You nodded, trying your best to not show how disappointed you were. It pained Gregory to see you like this. He loved you like a sister and seeing how Christophe was constantly breaking your little heart made him sad.

To his demise, you only grew quieter with time. When Gregory pressed you on the matter, asking what’s wrong, all you managed to mumble was: “I guess… I just realized that there's something I could never have”. It made him worry. You were such a sweet girl but recently you had become a husk of yourself and today was no different.

They had just come back from another job but this time you didn’t even greet them, just passed the folders in which you listed the new jobs they could take. “Here. I am afraid I have some bad news though.” You mumbled as you pressed the papers in their hands. Gregory looked at you with worry on his face. “What’s wrong, dear?” He asked and noticed how close you were to crying.

“My parents got a really good job over in Colorado. We will move next week.” You mumbled. Gregory threw the papers across the room, before storming to hug you. You held him close, feeling sad, that you would never again drink tea with your favorite English gentleman, and that deeply saddened you.

Your eyes wandered over to Christophe, who looked somewhat sad but made no move to express this. “I can't believe it. You’re THE most important part of this organization and you will be gone by next week?! Who is gonna help me with all the papers?” Gregory held you so close, you almost had trouble breathing.

“I gotta go early today since I have to start packing. I will miss you two so much.” You said, not being able to stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. “Yeah, sure, take your time. If you need any help, you know you can always count on me.” Gregory said, finally letting go of you. You nodded and walked up to Christophe.

“I guess that’s it huh?” You muttered. “Oui. You will be a great loss to zis organization.” Awkwardly you nodded. Was this really everything he had to say? You didn’t see Gregory in the background, wildly gesticulating for him to say more. The dark-haired raised an eyebrow until he finally got what his partner tried to say.

“We will miss you.” He thought this was a perfectly fine answer, but didn’t catch how much that hurt you. “Yeah, me you too.” You said and walked towards the exit. “See you guys!” You called out before you vanished.

“Great job making her feel like shit.” “What waz I supposed to say?”

“My God, Y/N, you have been here for over half a year now! Just tell him already!” Bebe commented and you blushed profusely. “N-no! He doesn’t even like me that much!” You protested, your cheeks colored in a deep red. “There is no point in denying sweetheart. You both are head over heels for each other. Trust me, Stan told me how much Kenny talks about you.” Wendy reassured you. She pointed with her fork over to the table the boys were seated on and sure enough, the blond boy you were talking about was looking over, waving even when he spotted you looking at him. You shyly waved back, before hiding in your sweater.

“Okay, Y/N, what the fuck happened when you lived in England? I can’t imagine you always behave like this around someone you like.” Nicole looked sternly at you, and you let out a deep sigh. “Well, fine, yeah, there was a guy before Kenny that I liked.”

The girls all pushed their food trays to the side, to stick their heads closer together. “In England, I was close friends with two guys.” “Ohh, a three-way?” “Bebe!” Wendy hissed before they let you continue. “They are assassins and I helped them with everything behind the scenes, like contacting clients, paperwork, and all that. Gregory was my best friend, and the other guy is a French, god-hating, foul-mouthed idiot named Christophe. And I really had a thing for him, but he was always super cold and just not that interested in me.” You rambled and the girls listened attentively. “Okay, okay, Y/N, hear me out on this one…” Bebe began, and you looked at her. “Have you maybe thought about the fact that that Christophe guy was just an idiot? You’re great and Kenny sooo has a thing for you. Just go for it!” Nicole and Wendy nodded. “Yeah, you gotta make new experiences, real experiences.” Nicole agreed and Wendy gave it a thumbs up.

Before they could talk any further, you felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around. Kenny stood there, smiling warmly. “Hey, Y/n, I just wanted to ask if you maybe wanna go to the mall with me on Saturday and maybe get a smoothie or something?” You felt your face heat up and heard the girls squeal quietly. You nodded. “Yeah, that would great!” You answered and he shot you a flashy smile. “Great. I’ll come to pick you up, yeah?” You nodded excitingly and he walked back to the boy’s table. “Ahh, you got a date!” Nicole beamed and so did the other two. A big smile was glued to your face, and you only managed to nod. “We will so come over on Friday and get you ready! Girls’ night!” Bebe planed and you happily agreed.

Being with Kenny was great. He was loving, always looked out for you, loved listening to you, and yet, you hated his guts just now. You wanted to strangle those stupid sluts that constantly clung to his side like their life depended on it. Yeah, you knew Tammy and he had history, as did Kelly, but did he really have to talk to them that much? Didn’t he see how much you hated it? “Hey, babe!” He whispered into your ear, and you moved away. “Hey, Kenny.” You said coldly. You waited for Mister Garrison to finally let you in the hotel. You and the girls managed to win the school competition for a trip to London, by selling 7,777 packages of cookies, totally legally, by the way, nothing to see here, so now your class was in London and after you sat with the girls in the bus Kenny had sneaked up to you. You were kind of nervous, fearing that you could maybe run into…him… but there was no chance he still lives here, right? Right?

You didn’t know why, but since Kenny had started to talk to his bitches, as you called them, again you distanced yourself from him. You were afraid of being hurt again, so distancing yourself was an automatic reaction.

Once you got settled in your room, the girls proposed discovering the town, since you guys had no events for the day. You happily greed and once in the corridor, you spotted Stans gang down the hall. Wendy asked them to join, much to your demise. You wanted girl time, not being secretly annoyed with Kenny time.

You, Wendy, Bebe, Stan, Kyle, and Kenny wandered the streets, taking in the new scenery. “It’s pretty nice here, isn’t it?” Wendy asked as she put the sweets she bought in her bag. “Yeah!” You agreed and sipped on the tea you ordered.

You guys had sat down at a café to just watch the bussing streets and enjoy some British tea. Kyle was talking to Stan about Cartman, and what prank they’d play on him tonight. Kenny was chatting with Bebe and Wendy about Tammy and Kelly, much to your demise and you just looked around. Your eyes wandered and you watched the other patrons when you stopped at a familiar seeming one. Your mouth was agape, there’s no way your eyes weren’t tricking you right now?!

The in leather gloved hands, the orange button-up shirt, that thick golden hair… A book rested in his left hand, while the other held the tea with an extended pinky. It was him. Gregory. He must have noticed you staring as he looked up and recognized you as well. A big smile appeared on his face, and he quickly put the book in his leather messenger bag. You got up, ignoring the questions from the others, while you ran into Gregory’s extended arms.

“Y/N my dear! I would have never guessed to see you again!” Gregory proclaimed, spinning you around. Neither of you cared that everyone was watching. “I’m so happy to see you. It has been ages!” You mumbled, still hugging your long-lost friend tightly. You only lost contact because you lost your phone during the move, so you had no way of contacting them. Before you two could talk, Kenny appeared by your side.

“Hey, babe, who is this guy?” He asked and as you turned around you saw the questioning looks of everyone. “Oh sorry. Guys, this is my old friend Gregory, we have been friends since we were little. Gregory, these are my friends from America, Wendy, Bebe, Kyle, Stan, and my boyfriend Kenny.”

Gregory properly introduced himself and moved to sit with you guys. He talked with your new friends, and you immediately saw how Wendy and Bebe hung to his lips. You understood that. Gregory was a really good-looking young man by now. You chuckled when you spotted how jealous Stan became with each passing second. Soon Gregory’s phone rang, and he excused himself to take the call.

“Oh my god! That’s the Gregory, you told us about, Y/N? Why did you hide that he’s a British snack!” Bebe exclaimed and you chuckled. Soon Gregory sat back down and that devious smile on his lips made you wonder.

“Ze Mole is coming.” He just said, knowing you wanted to question his smile. You felt the blood in your veins freeze for a second.

“He is still here?” You asked and Gregory nodded. “Why wouldn’t he? We kept the organization running. And there is always a spot for you if you ever want to come back.” The blond spotted the longing in your eyes at an instant. Kenny watched it happening quietly, carefully watching you. Soon enough, a certain someone arrived, pulling another chair to your table, and sitting on it backward, so that he was leaning on the backrest.

Your heart was beating like you had just run a marathon as you inspected every detail about him. His dark messy hair was roughly still the same and his trademark cigarette his only accessory. The tight-fitting dark green shirt fit him perfectly you thought and the tactical belt around his torso was still there. He also still wore fingerless gloves. The two really didn’t change much, apart from becoming older.

“Well, Christophe, these are Y/Ns friends from America.” Gregory introduced them and the dark-haired male lazily gifted him a wave. Wendy and Bebe noticed how you were obviously checking him out and laughed.

“I see you got a thing for baddies.” Bebe whispered into your ear, and you wanted to protest, but got interrupted by Stan.

“Well, I like this sort of reunion, but don’t wanna want to continue or sightseeing?” Gregory smiled warmly, as he offered to play tour guide for you. Your friends happily agreed to his proposition, feeling glad to have a real British tour guide. So, you guys paid for your orders and started walking.

To your surprise, instead of walking up front with Gregory, Christophe walked next to you, eyeing you curiously. “It’s nice to ze you again, mon chéri.” He said you felt your face heat up. Did he seriously just call you that? Did he actually say he’s happy to see you again?

“Well, it has been a while, hasn’t it?” You mumbled and Christophe had a pleasant smile resting on his face. That was a new thing, you thought. While Christophe walked next to you on your right, Kenny was on your left and eyeing the French with jealous eyes. He was an expert at reading people and he spotted Christophe’s attraction to HIS girlfriend miles go and he wasn’t blind to your body language either. You two had history. That much was clear.

Gregory led the group down to a nice spot near the riverbanks of the Thames where the girls took pictures together. Kyle and Gregory switched taking the group photos, while Kenny stood next to Christophe, both looking at the others.

Everyone felt the obvious tension between the two. “Don’t even think about, frog eater.” Kenny said, which made Christophe chuckle.

“Ahh, you Américains are so funny. You think everything belongs to you, when in reality she was already mine, once I sat down at ze table.” Christophe took the last puff of his cigarette, before stomping on it on the ground. Kenny averted his gaze and looked at his newfound rival.

“Yours?” He questioned but didn’t Christoph didn’t reward him with an answer. He only chuckled and put a new unlit cigarette in his mouth.

“Écoutez-Vous. You sound so funny.” The girl the two were fighting about returned with Bebe and Wendy and they all obviously felt the tension between the two.

“Ken, come over. Group pics!” Kyle called out to him and somewhat annoyed, Kenny jogged over. So you and your two friends were left with the French man.

“I just wanted to say, you look formidable, ma briquette.” Wendy and Bebe quietly squealed, as Christoph took your hand to press a kiss on your knuckles. You blushed a deep red. What had happened to him? He never behaved like that, but you couldn’t deny how he made your knees weak.

“Hey, Hey, Hey!” Kenny called out and quickly came stomping back. “I just told you to back off.” Kenny said. “Ah sorry, my English is pretty bad, I must have misunderstood.” Christophe shrugged. Kenny wrapped his arms around you and held you close.

“I’ll fuck you up if you don’t keep yourself in check.” Kenny spat and you broke free of his forced hug. “Ken, what the hell?” You questioned his sudden aggression, but you were quickly shoved away by Christophe, who now got all up in Kenny’s face.

“Oh, zen pray to whatever hate-filled God you believe in, and I hope for you he’z real because nothing will be as real as your fucked up face once I am done.” “Oh, I don’t believe in Gods. Not when I already know what hell looks like and so will you when I get started.”There was no point in denying that you, Wendy, and Bebe were super interested in this showdown. It was interesting to see two guys who were obviously fighting over you get so riled up.

Bebe leaned over and whispered: “Damn Y/N, you really got the hot guys fighting over you.” You had a faint pink tone on your cheeks. The two guys you liked were ready to basically kill each other over you. It was kind of flattering. Stan and Kyle tried getting the two to calm down, but to no avail, as they just kept going with their petty insults.

Gregory walked up next to you, leaning down to talk. “You are the only one who can get them to stop, you know that right?” He questioned.

“Yeah. But you must admit, this is kinda entertaining.” He laughed and nodded. “You’re right.” “Give me a minute Gregory. I never had someone fight for me.” You whispered with a hot face, watching as Kyle and Stan tried to pull the two away from each other.

Your heart was confused, seeing Christophe again and how he now behaved towards you awakened feelings you thought weren’t there anymore, but you also loved how Kenny was ready to fight for you. How could anyone not find this super interesting?

friend- a. hotchner

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader, platonic!bau x reader

warnings: mentions of a bullet wound and getting shot

about: you don't want to be friends with aaron anymore

a/n: yes it is inspired by a song- a cookie if you can guess it correctly

teeth sinking into your bottom lip, you maneuvered your right hand to your gun at your side, pulling it out easily and looking to hotch next you. his eyes flickered from yours to the closed door, giving you a small nod after a few seconds.

you launched your foot against the door, knocking it down with a hard thud and running through the opening. “fbi!” you heard derek yell, and you checked each room of the abandoned factory with aaron, coming up with nothing.

“clear!” you stated, pointing your gun around you as you saw the last door, looking at hotch and giving him a silent signal.

“treeger! give it up, you’re surrounded!”

it was the largest room, and the feeble string security you felt from having hotch behind you broke when you realized you had lost him.

you huffed, jaw setting as you looked around the room for gregory treeger.

“treeg-”

a hand wrapping around your mouth didn’t let you finish, tugging your hair and not letting any oxygen past your lips. the other hand tightened around your waist, holding you against treeger.

you shrieked out of surprise and struggled, caught off guard. you tried to kick at him, missing and only letting him have more control over you. you were beginning to get dizzy and concerned over where the hell hotch was, so you bit the hand on your lips, gagging slightly when you broke the skin. treeger made a noise of anger, loosening the hand around your waist and letting you pull one arm out. in annoyance and maybe due to a small miracle, you remembered the move derek taught you and elbowed the man behind you in the gut; twisting around and hitting him over the head with the barrel of your gun when he let you go.

you miscalculated how long you were without oxygen, the hit you planned to go on his head smacking the air above instead.

you managed to blink away the dizziness and get a shot in when treeger ran towards you. he faltered but didn’t stop, instead pulling a gun from his person- how the hell did you not notice- and making your eyes widen.

he pointed at you and fired three times, you doing the same and hitting him in the chest.

you grunted when he hit you in the chest, falling to the ground after he had. you forced your eyes to open afterwards, standing up with a hiss, walking towards the body and checking its pulse, not surprised when you didn’t find one. you ripped open your jacket, finding a bullet lodged in your vest.

you panted, shutting your eyes, only opening them when you heard hotch’s voice over the blood rushing through your ears.

“y/n?” hotch asked, touching your shoulder gently. you blinked, looking at his face, concerned, but still beautiful- the jackass.

“he shot at me. only one actually got me, i think; but i was wearing my vest, so i’m fine,” you muttered, standing up quickly and regretting it immediately.

hotch’s arms reached out, hands wrapping around your shoulders to hold you steady, and making you note a faint pain that came from that.

“are you okay?” he asked, and you nodded, surprised when he pulled you to his chest, "god, y/n, don’t go off by yourself.”

you nodded dumbly against his shoulder, pulling your arms around him and letting yourself enjoy the embrace of your boss/surprising best friend that you were in love with.

he pulled away when the rest of your teammates came in, eyebrow pulled together in concern when they saw you.

“do i really look that bad?” you joked, only to be met by still-worried faces. “what?” you asked, genuinely confused. you pulled your arms together to wrap them around yourself, wincing when you did.

“ouch,” you said, looking to your arm and noticing a growing red stain. “shit, he nipped me.”

you groaned when you saw hotch’s face. “i’ll drive her to the hospital,” he said, putting a hand on your back that made your stomach erupt in butterflies. everyone else nodded, but you didn’t get to see the knowing look on rossi’s face.

the car ride was made up of hotch asking you if you were okay and what happened, his words completely professional but his free hand on your knee.

it was friendly, you told yourself, he’s your friend, what else would it be?

-

surprisingly- although you guessed it shouldn’t be, seeing as he did this every time- hotch stayed with you throughout the whole hospital visit, uncharacteristically joking around with you to ease the discomfort he knew you had in hospitals.

luckily, your time in the hospital was short, the doctor telling you the exact same thing you had been told before. it was basically a cut from the bullet brushing your arm, and it wasn’t the first time you- or anyone on the team- had them. apart from some bruises and pain from the bullet your vest protected you from, you were fine and free to go home.

the case was in quantico, and there were no plane rides to have to endure to go home, which you were all happy about. even though you assured him it was fine, hotch made you go home, telling you he would give your paperwork to jj, who volunteered, but you knew he was the one who was going to do it. he always did.

at your house, all you could think about was hotch.

you had joined the team seven years ago, and became friends with hotch within the first year. everyone had been surprised, but you just shrugged when anyone asked you about it, only having seen the guarded hotch for a few months.

you had gotten to know a version of him not many people got to see as much as you did, and you had fallen in love with him.

everything he did drove you insane, and you were sure he knew; he was a profiler, how could he not?

sitting alone in your house, eating strawberry ice cream and whipped cream, watching cheesy rom coms that you supposed weren’t meant to make you laugh in the points you did, you decided you couldn’t do it anymore.

it was ten, hotch wouldn’t be asleep yet, and you could be at his house in a short ten minutes.

in a haste, you put everything away and ran to your car, turning it on and groaning at the rain pounding down.

“of course,” you muttered, but continued on, closing your eyes for a moment and resting your head on the steering wheel at a stop sign to really ask yourself if you were actually going to confess your feelings to your boss.

yes. yes you were, you decided, sighing and waiting for the red light to turn green.

-

you stood outside of hotch’s door, blinking hard as the rain soaked through your clothes and made your hair drip. water slid off your eyelashes and ran down your cheeks as you stared at his door, not having even knocked yet.

this had been happening for minutes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

you contemplated your options for another minute before shutting your eyes, bringing your hand up, and rapping on the door.

after a few seconds that passed like minutes, hotch came to the door, opening it and staring at you in surprise, “...y/n?”

you smiled at him, shivering. “come inside, what are you doing here-”

“i have to tell you something.”

he stayed silent, wordlessly telling you to continue.

“there’s something you don’t know,” you swallowed, sniffing.

“you can tell me inside,” hotch insisted, but you shook your head, pushing the words out.

“i don’t want to be friends with you anymore. i can’t- i can’t do it- i’m-” you blinked, shutting your eyes hard and swiping at your face with your hand.

“i’m sorry? what are you-”

“i love you,” you whispered, “i- i’m in love with you.”

a look you didn’t recognize went over hotch’s eyes, and you stepped back, “i’m so sorry- i- i thought- this was a mistake- i should get going, i knew i shouldn’t have done this-”

you were about to turn around when a hand wrapped around your (uninjured arm’s) wrist, tugging you back.

“will you let me talk?” hotch asked, breath fanning over your cold face.

the rain was seeping through his own clothes now, too, but you couldn’t bring yourself to notice that much when his lips were so close to yours.

“do you know why i haven’t asked you for any of the clothes i’ve lent you back?”

you shook your head, finding your voice unable to work.

“or why i am always your partner when we go on cases?”

you didn’t respond at all this time, waiting for him to continue.

“i love you too.”

his hand reached up to your chin, pulling your face closer and crashing your lips against his. you gasped softly but responded, eyes fluttering closed. you felt him pull you closer, and were overwhelmed at the combination of the feeling of his lips against your own, his chest against yours and his fingers gently massaging your waist.

you pulled away with a smile, leaning your forehead against his shoulder. “you’re in the rain,” you said softly, and he laughed. “well, you’re apparently all for the dramatics, which i’m going to take note of, by the way.”

you laughed, letting him tug you by your uninjured arm into his house to warm up.

Still Here

Kaidan one shot. Set in Citadel DLC, no prior romance imports. Enjoy loves. @gregories 

The rhythm of the music was pulsing in time with her heart rate, a happy coincidence as she leaned into the cool metal of the railing that overlooked the main floor of Anderson's apartment. The group below was swapping big fish stories.

"I was with Shepard when we took down that thresher maw," Grunt gloated, pounding a large fist against his chest like the swing of a hammer.

"Which one, kid?" Wrex scoffed. "You haven't been around since the mako days. We used to get out and take them down on foot planetside."

"I miss the mako. Shame they discontinued that model." Steve got a solemn nod from a few of the others and continued on, Shepard's attention drawn back to the others that stood on the balcony above with an elbow jabbed at her playfully.

"Right, Lola?"

"Sorry James, missed that."

"Don't play innocent. We were just saying that it's impossible not to fall a little bit in love with you." He swung his drink at the group behind him, most with hesitant if not expectant faces.

Shepard looked back at the lieutenant and scrunched her nose slightly. "And by that you mean...?"

"Well, it's true. Look, I know I haven't been here that long and you've already talked me into some crazy shit. Like leaving Earth to be able to bring the fight back to the Reapers. These people have stolen ships, gone on suicide runs, and faced some of the evilest shit this galaxy has to offer. All at your command." Large shoulders heaved a shrug as he concluded with a, "If that ain't love, I don't know what is."

Her gaze fell to the floor as she pushed off the rail and took a half step back. Shepard chewed on her words for a short second before taking that same step back and straightened her shoulders.

"I've been beyond lucky. To have found you all along the way, and still have so many of you here, still fighting the same fight with me after all this time..." A warmth tugged at the corners of her mouth almost imperceptibly. "I can't say I don't love you right back for it."

They carried on that way for a short while, light and happy. Shepard noticed one pair of eyes never left her, and she slipped away by asking if anyone needed a refill. She wanted a minute to collect herself, but boots sounded a few steps behind her on the stairs as she descended.

"Hey. On second thought, I'll take another drink. You got beer too or just the tall boys, Shepard?"

Rounding the corner to the open kitchen, she swung the refrigerator door wide and deftly popped the tops on two lagers. "I gotcha covered, Kaidan."

"Wow, thanks. I'm curious where you were able to get them, but then again you did manage to find whiskey when I was on the mend back at Huerta. Guess I shouldn't ask."

"Gift shop was still stocked when you were admitted. These were here though. Must be Anderson kept the fridge stocked for just the occasion." She took a pull on the bottle, enjoying the warmth it brought. "By the way, did you ever end up drinking that whiskey?"

"No. I told you we'd drink it together, remember?" Kaidan's eyes still hadn't left her. She shifted under his gaze.

"You said we'd crack it open to celebrate. Did you mean once we win this war or-?" She turned to the next room where the party was still on, the music still alive and in her veins, but feeding into this odd mood she found herself in, amplifying it somehow. Was it... what was it? "I can't think of a time we've celebrated more than now since we've known each other."

The major finally turned away from her after a beat, facing the light show that splayed across the room from the floor-to-ceiling windows. The strip was alive tonight. So were they. It felt good.

"Speaking of knowing each other." Kaidan tapped his beer against hers. "Was I the only one a little uncomfortable after what Vega said?"

"No," she agreed too quickly. "But that's James for you. He likes to press his luck."

They were quiet a moment longer before Kaidan continued. "He was right though. And it made me realize something... You could've had someone. I didn't know you before Eden Prime, but even back then. Liara and I, we... kind of made fools of ourselves. We loved you then. And you let us both down easy. I don't know if you've been with anyone else after that, but I can't imagine none of them haven't at least tried. And I can't help but wonder if we-"

"What, Kaidan?" she cut him off. Her tone was light, but firm. "After Sovereign attacked the Citadel, I was gone for two years. That put a serious strain on our friendship that a lot of time has finally healed. How would it have been any better if we'd been together?"

Out of reflex, a hand went to the back of Kaidan's neck and he rubbed it in earnest, his eyes on his boots. Shepard knew that tick. The migraine he was pushing aside flared as he lamented, a look of consternation carved into his scruffy frown lines. She silently cursed herself, pissed at herself and her logic.

"To be honest, I don't know," he finally admitted. He said it so softly she almost didn't hear him. "But we're both here now. And I..." he turned his body to face her as he heaved a sigh of resignation. "I still love you. Even after everything we've been through, and maybe moreso because of it. I dunno, Shepard. The world coming to an end has a way of putting things into perspective for you."

"You think we're gonna lose?" she all but whispered.

"No. No, I think you're going to kick the Reapers back into whatever black hole they crawled out of. No impossible feat has stopped you yet. But you can't deny that these are end times. People are looking back at their lives and wondering about the 'what if's.' What if I'd spent less time being angry with you for dying in the first place and more time protecting you from Cerberus? What if I'd gone with you on Horizon, what if-"

On instinct, Shepard reached for him as Kaidan's voice caught in his throat. "Stop it," she chastised lightly. "What if's are a waste. Besides." She found herself smiling as he looked up from his laces to search her expression. "In spite of all of it, here we are."

They stood like that for a while. The party disappeared around them and she could smell his cologne. When had he gotten so close?

Slowly, he smiled back at her. With measured movements, Kaidan took their forgotten drinks and placed them on the counter beside them. Then he stepped up to her, laying a soft kiss against her lips.

After a heartbeat, they parted and her smile grew. "Wow."

Kaidan chuckled at the bemused grin. "What?"

"I didn't expect your beard to be so soft." She traced her thumb along his jawline, his smile widening to mirror hers. "Do that again."

Easily, as if they'd done it a thousand times, they stepped into an embrace that drowned out any doubts the other had and found a small but profound victory in the way their bodies fit together.

Life is funny like that, she decided much later that night when everything was calm and dark. Her pulse was still loud in her ears, but so was Kaidan's heavy breathing beside her. Shepard found his hand and entwined her fingers with his, silently grateful for her dumb luck and the conundrum that is Kaidan Alenko.

There is a popular quote that circulates every once in a while that reads “One person can make a difference and everyone should try.”

This individual holds a special place in my heart and also the hearts of many long-time Peace Page followers, who found this page after reading a simple story which mentioned her and which became one of the most popular posts on the Peace Page. Her name is Harriet Glickman, she is the teacher who decided to write a letter to Charles Schulz and ask him if he could create a black character on his Peanuts comic strip - that character would become Franklin, one of the first black characters in a popular comic strip. Harriet Glickman passed away Friday morning, March 27, 2020, at her home in Sherman Oaks. She was 93. Her passing was reported by a Peanuts-based website, which quoted a personal friend who said, her passing was "peaceful, in her sleep" and that the former schoolteacher had been "well prepared for this." They say representation matters, and Franklin, even though he was a fictional character, was noticed by many who did not feel they were being represented enough during those days. The original Peace Page post started: "On July 31, 1968, a young, black man was reading the newspaper when he saw something that he had never seen before. With tears in his eyes, he started running and screaming throughout the house, calling for his mom. He would show his mom, and, she would gasp, seeing something she thought she would never see in her lifetime. Throughout the nation, there were similar reactions. "What they saw was Franklin Armstrong's first appearance on the iconic comic strip "Peanuts." Although Charles Schulz deserves the accolades and credit for having the courage to create Franklin and standing by him when he started receiving racist demands to remove him, it was all started by a school teacher who decided to write a simple letter. "Harriet has a very interesting place in history," according to The LAist. "In 1968, she wrote to 'Peanuts' creator Charles Schulz asking him to do something remarkable at the time: integrate his famous comic strip." "Harriet Glickman was a white, 42-year-old suburban Los Angeles school teacher and mother raising three children when Martin Luther King was assassinated in 1968," according to the Press Telegram. According to NPR, she wrote, “Since the death of Martin Luther King, 'I’ve been asking myself what I can do to help change those conditions in our society which led to the assassination and which contribute to the vast sea of misunderstanding, hate, fear and violence.'” Glickman decided to write a letter to Schulz, not knowing whether he would actually read it or even whether he would receive the letter. Glickman was especially aware of the power of comics among the young. “And my feeling at the time was that I realized that black kids and white kids never saw themselves [depicted] together in the classroom,” she said in the Washington Post. She hoped this would bring the country together and show people of color that they are not excluded from American society. At the time, Schulz, the creator of the enormously popular “Peanuts” comic strip, was already being "published in hundreds of newspapers around the United States reaching nearly 100 million readers," according to the Press Telegram. Surprisingly, Schulz did respond, but wasn't sure whether it would be right, coming from him, he didn't want to make matters worse, he felt that it may sound condescending to people of color. Glickman persisted, however, continuing her correspondence with Schulz, even having black friends write to Schulz and explain to him what it would mean to them. She told Schulz that "the gentleness of the [Peanuts would be] 'the perfect setting' for such representation," according to CBR. “I am well aware of the very long and tortuous road ahead,” she added. “I’m sure one doesn’t make radical changes in so important an institution without a lot of shock waves from syndicates, clients, etc. You have, however, a stature and reputation which can withstand a great deal.” This conversation would continue until one day, Schulz told Glickman to check her newspaper on July 31, 1968. On that date, the cartoon, as created by Schulz, shows Charlie Brown meeting a new character, named Franklin. Other than his color, Franklin was just an ordinary kid who befriends and helps Charlie Brown. In a speech at American University of Health Sciences in Signal Hill, California in 2018, talking to a group of children and adults, Glickman said, the 1960s in the United States was “a time long before any of you were born, a time when not everyone was understanding of other people, when young African Americans couldn’t go to the same beach as white children and when schools were separate.” According to the Press Telegram, the Rev. Gregory Johnson, co-founder of American University of Health Sciences who invited Glickman to the event, said he wanted her to know what a profound effect her action with Schulz had on him. “I appreciate so much what you did in improving relations. I wouldn’t be here without you,” he said. Glickman was born in Sioux City, Iowa, and lived in Chicago before moving to Southern California and a job in the Burbank School District and eventually UCLA before retiring. Glickman explained in previous interviews that her parents were "concerned about others, and the values that they instilled in us about caring for and appreciating everyone of all colors and backgrounds — this is what we knew when we were growing up, that you cared about other people . . . And so, during the years, we were very aware of the issues of racism and civil rights in this country [when] black people had to sit at the back of the bus, black people couldn’t sit in the same seats in the restaurants that you could sit . . . Every day I would see, or read, about black children trying to get into school and seeing crowds of white people standing around spitting at them or yelling at them . . . and the beatings and the dogs and the hosings and the courage of so many people in that time." Glickman, according to The LAist, said someone once commented to her that "‘It took courage [to do what she did, to make a stand].’ I said, ’No it didn’t, it didn’t take courage for me to sit in Sherman Oaks in my comfortable home with my three children and type a letter.'" "Courage," she said, "was little Ruby Bridges, the little girl who integrated a school in the south who had to come with the National Guard with people spitting at her and yelling at her and throwing things at her and the parents who drew their children out. That was courage." Because of Glickman, because of Schulz, people around the world were introduced to a little boy named Franklin, and even today, when Franklin is mentioned, fond memories are evoked, such as those like the young, black man, who with tears in his eyes, started running and screaming throughout the house because he was introduced to Franklin for the first time. Barbara Brandon-Croft, the first African American woman to have a nationally syndicated comic strip in the mainstream press, was 10 years old in 1968, said, “I remember feeling affirmed by seeing Franklin in ‘Peanuts.’ ‘There’s a little black kid! Thank goodness! We do matter.’" When the Peace Page first shared its story about Franklin's birth, one Peace Page reader commented, "I normally don't comment on Facebook but I feel compelled to now. As a black child growing up in the 70's and 80's U grew up in mostly white neighborhoods. One of the most difficult things at that time is my sense of where I belonged in the world. I didn't have anybody in my position i could relate to on TV or in the movies. Then I started reading Peanut cartoons and I met Franklin and I saw myself for once. As a character, Franklin was so important to me I named my third son after him. thank you . . . for helping me find my place." That Peace Page story has now reached 22,498,877 people, receiving 2,091,450 reactions. It has inspired an Upworthy article and has been shared all over the world, including by media companies in Australia and Italy. When the Peace Page contacted the Charles M. Schulz Museum in Santa Rosa, California, one of the representatives said that Glickman regularly visited the museum and she was fondly called "Franklin's Mom." When she saw that Peace Page post, she commented on the Peace Page, "It's always a joy for me to share the Franklin story. I consider him my fourth child and he is very much loved." In the speech in 2018 at American University of Health Sciences, she told the audience that it still “feels like yesterday [when Franklin was introduced].” She said some things have changed, but others have not. “We still have so many problems on how we see each other,” she said in an article by the Press Telegram. She told the children: “You can make a difference in making the world a better place. When you see something that makes you feel angry or upset, don’t just complain, do something about it. And remember that we all care for each other; we’re all the same loving, caring people.” She then autographed a book introducing Franklin to Charlie Brown, “Nice to Meet You, Franklin!” and urged each youngster “to make a difference.” Thank you, Harriet Glickman, also, for making a difference and making the world a better place. [Photo courtesy of CBR]

The Jon S. Randal Peace Page

Hiya! I love your writing! Would you consider writing a draco malfoy x reader soulmate au? Maybe post war? Like you feel a harsh burn when you meet your soulmate but it immediately stops when you look in theirs eyes?

Carrot Cake

A/N: Thank you anon for being my first request and I hope you enjoy it!

W.C. : 4500

Warnings: A little bit of swearing.

Soulmates were a tricky thing. Even more when you found your perfect match in the entire world by the touch of skin against skin, showing you what true pain was before it all went away with the look of the one person that would love you no matter what. The fire that they ignited in you being washed away by you swimming in their eyes, diving into their gaze and letting it take all the pain away. 

That sounded like a fairy tale, didn´t it?

Well try it at school, with thousands of teenagers looking for the one they would love until they took their last breath. It got intense at times.

You had witnessed the desperation of many at the very halls of Hogwarts. Girls and boys alike, walking way to closely to the one they thought was the one for them. “Accidentally” brushing hands to just get the disappointing feeling of a sweaty hand or the looks of confusion in the person. Many didn’t even try to date until they were sure it was their soulmate.

“I’m saving me the pain of a heartbreak.” they would say as they carried on with their lives.

It was funny to watch when two people found out they were soulmates. Your favorite one being at a Quidditch match. It was almost summer and the uniforms were just the necessary layers to prevent they passed out because of the heat. Hufflepuff was playing against Ravenclaw, the two seekers flying after the golden snitch at such speed they were flashes before the eyes of the crowd.

The Ravenclaw seeker had the snitch at the slightest stretch of her arm, but the Hufflepuff team couldn’t lose so he did the only thing that came to his mind. He forced his broom to the right, clashing his body against the one of the Ravenclaw seeker. 

The matched stopped completely at the cries from both seekers rolling on the ground, their fall wasn’t that high so everyone stared at them with wide eyes as they screamed in pain. Only when one student reacted everyone understood what was happening. They were soulmates.

“LOOK AT HER, YOU FOOL!” someone yelled from the back of the crowd, and so he did. He forced the pain aside and opened his eyes meeting tear stained ones. 

They felt as a cold bucket of water was poured over them, the pain fading into a feeling of bliss and fulfillment. The young seekers had found each other.

But you? You were neutral. You see, you were sure neither of your friends was your soulmate or you would have known since the moment you shook hands for the first time. And it wasn’t like you could go around touching every single person you crossed paths with. So you took the matter with patience.

One thing was for sure: You would meet your soulmate. Whether you were eleven, sixteen, thirty or fifty years old was up to fate.

How ever your friends, or more like one friend, was extremely worried about you.

“You won’t find them if you don’t look for them, Y/N” Hermione scolded you with a stern look. This was the third time she had brought up the subject in the week, whether she did it out of genuine concern or just mere curiosity of who you were destined to be, you didn’t know.

“That’s easy for you to say ‘Mione,” you said with the tilt of you head “You found yours when you were eleven.” your eyes falling to her and Ron’s hands together.

She rolled her eyes, dropping his boyfriend’s hand before she turned to the dark haired boy at your right  “Harry?” she said, looking for the some kind of support. 

He just shrugged, giving her a tight smile before returning to the book he seemed to have glued to his body. You’ll have to talk to him about it soon.

Hermione’s scoff returned your attention to her “All I’m saying is: It wouldn’t hurt if you made the effort, you know?” she said in defeat “Your soulmate is not going to drop out of the sky or go and knock at your door. You have to get out there and try.”

You smiled at her, and she returned it with a hopeful glint in her eyes “You’re right,” you said, pausing a little “Although he might drop out of the sky. We live in world with flying brooms, remember?” you said with an innocent smile.

Ron and Harry snickered around you, bursting in a full fit of laughter as Hermione yanked his hands away from yours. “You’re impossible.” she grunted, crossing her hands over her chest and turning away from you.

“Just leave her be, Hermione.” Harry defended you “If she doesn’t want to push it that’s up to her.”

You gave him a genuine smile, mouthing a thank you his way. He nodded his head with a smile, returning to the open page in front of him. Harry was right, you weren’t going to push it.

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

You couldn’t deny that after the war panicked was a current state you found yourself at least once a day. What if Hermione was right? You could have made the effort back at Hogwarts to find your soulmate, but no one could assure you that he or she was there.

Still you would have known. What if they died at war? Many students died at the hands of Voldemort’s forces, students and adults alike that had every possibility of being your soulmate. Age wasn’t a problem and you knew that first hand. The story of Professor Lupin and Tonks was well known among the wizards, besides the fact that you had meet the little Teddy Lupin in one of your visits to Harry. The boy was proof that the Soulmate bond was never wrong.

No one ever told you anything about what happened if your soulmate died before you realized who they are. Yes, you met but you never touched or interacted enough to realize you were soulmates. 

At 25 years of being alive you had meet thousands of people who you had never even shared the same space. What if you already met them and you never realized because the interaction was so fast. Was that even possible?

The sound of the bell at your door ringing brought you back to reality, you stood from the stool you sat and straighten your apron before the person on the other side of the counter got there. 

“Hello,” you greeted them with a smile “What can I get for you today?”. 

After the war the last thing you wanted to do was work at the Ministry of Magic or anything that could put your life in danger again. So you worked to save enough money to open your own café, the recipes of your mother and your love for coffee making it success after the first year of opening. It also helped that the upper part of the little building worked as your home. A flat with a room for you and a big open space for the living room and a small but functional kitchen.

The person in front of you was clearly a new customer, reading over the menu hanged high on the wall as he took all the options in “I’ll have a black coffee with a slice of the double chocolate cake, please.” he said with a smile.

You nodded your head “Be ready in just a second!” you said turning to the coffee maker to get a fresh pot. He went to the stools that faced the busy street of Diagon Alley, the wooden bar filled with all kinds of beautiful plants that Neville had once showed you and you ended up loving.

The door burst open again, the sound of the outside world filling the place with the flowing chatter of the group that had just entered, taking one of the tables from far in the corner. 

“Here you go, Sir.” you told the man waiting patiently on the bar.

He turned to you with a smile, taking the bag from your hand “Thank you!” he said, paying you and waving goodbye. You hadn’t even noticed the crowd that had gathered in the register until someone spoke from behind you.

“Well if it’s none other than Y/N Y/L/N,” said Blaise Zabini with a grin in his face, his eyes roaming all over your body before they landed on your eyes “Couldn’t find a better job?” he asked, the smug look in his face making you want nothing more than to throw the hot pot of coffee in his clearly expensive clothes.

But you held yourself back, you had dealt with clients like him before. With maybe too much force you placed the pot in the counter, putting a fake smile on your face “What can I get for you today?” you asked kindly, hoping the tick you felt in your eye was only a game your mind was playing on you.

“Awww,” he said with a fake pout of his lip “Sensitive subject?” he said with little voice. The ones accompanying him laughed under their breath, taking a glance their way  you recognize them as Pansy Parkinson and Gregory Goyle. She was still one of the prettiest yet meanest persons you had ever met, her sense of fashion hadn’t changed much, fortunately, her looks the only attribute you could save from her. Goyle was the same as he was back at Hogwarts, he looked more mature and adult-like but the chuckle at what Zabini had just said proved you that not much had changed.

“Are you going to order something or can I carry on with the rest of the line?” you asked, your patience starting to wear thin as more people got behind them.

“Answer me this first and maybe I’ll order something,” he said, resting his arms over the counter. The bell to the door sounded again but you paid it no mind, your hands starting to get sweaty at the sardonic look in his face  “Is it true you haven’t found your soulmate yet?”

You stared at him, your eyes turning into a glare before you took a menacing step forward “This is not an interrogation” you said lowly “Order something or get out of my shop.” you snapped.

He raised his arms in defeat, a breathy laugh coming out of his lips “Whether you wanted it or not you just answered my question.” he laughed, glancing back to Pansy and Goyle “No wonder your so moody.”

“Zabini,” someone said beside him, your eyes shifting doubtfully to the side to see a tall man. He had serious face, his hazel eyes cold as he stared almost in annoyance at him “Did you choose this place only to bother her or are you actually going to order something?” he growled. 

“Oh, c’mon Theo. We were just having a casual chat.” he said innocently “You remember Y/L/N, don’t you?” he said pointing at you.

He only spared a glance at you, his attention shifting quickly as another man joined them. Draco Malfoy. 

“Of course I do,” Theo answered “I also remember how she once hexed your ass so bad you couldn’t leave your room for a week.” he said, erasing the smug look from his face “Need I continue or are you going to finally order something? Is the least you can do after making her lose her time on you.”

Blaise was fuming when he turned to you, never meeting your eyes “Three black coffees, one with cream and sugar and whatever they want.” he grunted, turning in his heel before you could even answer.

You turned to Theo, giving him a small yet genuine smile “What can I get for the two of you?” you asked, seeing his eyes go over the selection of cakes you had displayed.

“A mocha and a cappuccino, and one slice of the carrot cake.” he said, giving you a nod. 

“I’ll have it by your table in a moment.” you told him, making a move with your hand for the next person in line to order.

They both muttered a thank you, keeping your eyes in the back of their heads as they went to the table their friends sat at. You shook your head, facing the lady next in line “Thank you for your patience.” you said, getting over with all the orders before you got to work.

The girl that you hired to help you moved at such a speed you almost missed her when she was about to take the order to the Slytherins “Not that one!” you said, stopping her before she was out of the kitchen “I’ll take it.” you mumbled grabbing the tray.

“Are you sure?” she said with a cock of her eyebrow “‘Cause they weren’t that nice before.” she said bitterly.

“I’m sure, Raven.” you said with a smile “You can start making the batter for the carrot cake, that was the last slice.”

She smiled, nodding her head before she turned, half the ingredients out before you even made it out of the kitchen. You walked to the table, putting a smile on your face “Three black coffees, one with sugar and cream,” you repeated their entire order as you placed each item in the table, a satisfactory look in your face as you ended “Anything else I can get you?” 

They all stayed silent, never meeting your eyes. You catched a glimpse of Draco rolling his eyes, his eyes meeting yours “That would be all, thank you.” he said.

You nodded and turned, hearing a small part of their conversation. 

“I didn’t order that.” Draco muttered as Theo placed the cake in front of him.

“Did you really think I forgot your birthday last week?” he asked, and you couldn’t help the smile that krept on your face. “Happy birthday, mate.”

They were the last ones to leave the shop that day, ordering all kinds of drinks they put their eyes on. You wondered if they would be able to sleep that night.

“Uh...Y/N?” Raven called you from the front part of the shop. 

“Yes, darling?” you said, walking out to where she stood cleaning the tables. Her eyes shifting from you to the untouched table.

“I think this is for you.” she said shakily, handing you a neatly folded napkin. 

You looked at her with a frown, opening the piece of paper to see it was a note. A beautifully written note. 

I apologize for my idiotic friends and their behavior. 

It had no signature but you had a pretty good guess as to who had left it. You turned to Raven with a soft smile “It’s just note Raven, nothing wrong with that.” you said, your smile dropping as she moved her body and let you see what she had been hiding. There in the table was a very generous tip, one that you hadn’t seen anyone leave.

“Merlin,” you mumbled turning to Raven who still had a panicked look in her eyes.

“Let’s close alright, it’s getting late.”

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

It had been two weeks since the incident with Blaise Zabini and even if they had been of your best customers you felt relieved when none of them had showed their face again. Of course, you weren’t that lucky.

It was a slow morning, friday mornings where no one went looking for coffee and instead saved their money and energy for the weekend. So, the bell ringing made you jump in anticipation until you saw them, Theo Nott and Draco Malfoy walking inside the shop.

You took a deep breath, watching them near the counter “Morning,” you smiled “What can I get you?” you asked. 

You were glad it was them and not the others, surprisingly being the nicest ones. But still you couldn’t help but feel intimidated, they both have cold stares and a permanent tired looking face. 

“Morning Y/N,” said Theo, surprising you by using your first name “Two black coffees, please.”

You nodded almost out of their sight before you heard Draco call “Do you have carrot cake?” he asked you, a chuckle emerging from Theo before he turned to pick a table. You smiled at him nodding your head, he thanked you and joined his friend at the table, slumping in his seat.

You couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong with him. You remembered him from school, always with a confident air to him, a bright smile that had everyone at his feet. He was a Malfoy for Godric's sake! Now he looked… defeated.

“Two black coffees and carrot cake,” you said once at their table “Fresh out of the oven.” you smiled down at him and he gave you a small smile, the corners of his mouth barely lifting. “Let me know if you need anything else.” you said.

You moved your hands to grab the tray, Draco’s hand reaching for his mug at the same time, knuckled brushing slightly. You felt a hot sensation, a gasp leaving your lips as you brought your hand up to your chest. 

“Everything alright?” Theo asked from your side, your eyes never leaving Draco as you hoped to maybe see a reaction. His eyes dead as they always were.

“Yes...Enjoy your coffee.” you said to quickly, grabbing the tray and running back to the kitchen. You rubbed your thumb over your knuckles, Could it be?

Their voices caught your attention, being the only ones in the shop besides you made it difficult not to eavesdrop. They could probably whisper and you would get every single word they uttered.

“You gotta get out there,” Theo sighed “I know you don’t want to but not all is lost.”

“She was supposed to be the one,” Draco mumbled, his voice void of any emotion “Not fucking Zabini.” he grunted, stabbing his cake with the fork multiple times.

“So Astoria is not your soulmate,” Theo said with a knowing look “You should see it as a win.” he uttered getting a glare from Draco as he stopped the stabbing “You won’t have Daphne as your sister in law, you won’t have to endure their parents ridiculous expectations on you as her husband plus, do you even liked her?” he asked with a frown.

“I was starting to.” he mumbled bitterly.

“Then stop.” Theo ordered “And get yourself together, you don’t want to meet your soulmate and look like your fresh out of Azkaban.” he mumbled, sipping away before he took a look to the hour. He was close to spitting the bitter liquid, placing the cup down “Shit, I’m late.” he said, tapping his pockets before Draco waved a hand in his way.

“Go,” he told him “I got it.”

“Thanks mate,” he said, his eyes scanning the place before they landed on you behind the counter “Y/N!” he called and you poked your head over the counter “Keep the man some company for me, would you?” he said, smiling at the nod you gave him, running out the door before you could say another thing.

Your eyes drifted to Draco, sitting awkwardly at the table. You chuckled, getting up to walk to him, grabbing the empty mugs you cocked your head “Well c’mon, the stools are more comfortable, believe it or not.” you told him, listening to the shuffling sound before his steps filled the shop. 

He sat in the one nearer to where you sat behind the counter. You stared at him before it turned weird, you shook your head “Do you want more coffee?” you said, wiggling your eyebrow at him before you said “Carrot cake?”

He laughed softly, giving you his empty mug. You poured him the coffee, bringing the cake out anyway. He gave you a questioning look, and you kept on cutting the slice “With the tip your friend left the last time you were here, I should give you a year worth of cake and coffee.” you laughed, placing the cake in a plate and giving it to him.

He smiled at you, taking the plate before he lowered his head “That would have been me, actually.” he mumbled, and you froze.

“What?” you stuttered, with wide eyes “That was you?” you asked him and he nodded, taking a bite of the cake. “Woah, well thank you,” you said, sitting in your stool “You made a little girl’s day that evening.”

He couldn’t help the disappointing feeling that settled in him, he doubted but the words left his mouth before he could even think about them “You have kids?” he asked.

You stared at him dumbfounded, laughing softly at his assumption “Oh, no.” you said, relief washing over him “Raven, the girl that works with me. She started working so she could buy her first broom.” you shared.

“You gave it all to her?” he asked, and you nodded with smile.

Draco didn’t understand what he was feeling right there with you, but he didn’t want it to stop. This was the happiest he had felt in weeks.

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

Draco’s sporadic buy of coffee turned into daily visits, sometimes accompanied by Theo, but mostly only him. He had his preferred seat, near where you took the orders and prepared the coffee. It was rare the occasion that someone sat on the bar, the place used by lonely customers.  It became Draco’s predetermined place.

“Draco,” you said, one day when all the clients were happy and away with their orders “Don’t get me wrong, I love your visits and that you spend so much time here,” he raised an eyebrow when you paused, looking for the right words “Don’t you have a work to go to?”

His entire expression changed, he looked tormented and sad at the same time. He placed his cup down, avoiding your eyes “I’m supposed to be on vacations.” he said in you frown in confusion.

“Draco, as flattered as I am, my coffee shop is not a vacation destination.” you told him and he chuckled, daring to meet your eyes.

“No, I-,” he sighed in defeat “I was supposed to be on my honeymoon right now.” he said. 

“What?” you asked leaning in the counter, holding your head in your hands “What happened?”

“She wasn’t my soulmate,” he said bitterly “Zabini ended up being her soulmate and now they are planning their wedding.”

You were very confused and he could tell by the look on your face “Apparently she found a way to fake the bond, did it on me before she found out he was her soulmate.”

You scoffed, and he meet your eyes “What a bitch move.” you mumbled, realizing that you said it out loud “No offense, but you should never do that to someone. Not even I’m that desperate.” you laughed, walking to the register to take Dave’s order. The sweet man that had found your shop the same day Draco and his gang had the first time.

But Draco was focused on the words you had said. Not even I’m that desperate:

You didn’t have a soulmate yet. A spark of hope made his heart flutter as he watched you give the man his order, a kind smile always on your face as you waved him goodbye. 

Maybe not all was lost.

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

“You didn’t have to stay so late.” you told Draco, his tall frame leaned against the door as he watched you put in place the last chair. “I literally live here, well, not here but upstairs,” you laughed “You know what I mean.” you said, your face changing to a concerned one “Draco?”

He had stayed silent, through all the cleaning process he had help you wash and put everything in place. You didn’t find it odd, the man was suffering and he had relived all that by sharing it with you. You let him to his thoughts for a moment.

But now he was watching you intently, almost as he was admiring you. You started to feel shaky, and even more when he took a hesitant step towards you, his eyes lighting up when you didn’t take one back yourself.

“Draco, what are you doing?” you asked shakily, crossing your arms over your chest as a way to physically shield you from his burning eyes.

“I want to ty something,” he said, his grey eyes shifting to your hand before they meet your E/C ones. He was inches away from you, if your breathing became any more deeper you chests would brush against each other. But you knew that wouldn’t work.

It had to be your skin against his.

“Y/N?” he called again and you looked at him with glossy eyes, the tears barely staying there. “Can I?” he asked you, his voice so soft you barely heard him.

“I don’t...What if it’s not us?” you asked him, the crack in your voice paining him more than any other thing he had ever gone through. 

He took a shaky breath “Do you trust me?” he asked you. You nodded your head immediately and he smiled softly “Keep your eyes on me, okay?” he said, leaning down slightly. 

He took one last look at you and then he grabbed your hand.

A cry of pain left your mouth as you felt the warmth spread all over your body, the heat concentrated in your wrist where his hand had touched you. The burning sensation was quickly washed away by his grey eyes on you. The warm feeling of the bond replaced by the cold feeling of his hand.

Draco Malfoy was your soulmate.

You laughed breathlessly, looking at his hand in your wrist before you faced him again. A smile that mirrored your own in his face.

You threw your arms around his neck, taking him by surprise as he stumbled back a little. He placed his hands on your waist and brought you closer to him, his lips finding yours in a soft kiss. He kissed you so softly, running his hand up and down your back, landing again on your sides.

You had your fingers tangled in his hair before he pulled away from you, his eyes still closed before he opened them to see the brightest smile he had ever seen. You kept on playing with his hair, placing soft kisses on his cheeks.

“You taste like carrot cake.” 

He chuckled resting his head on your shoulder as he hugged you, letting you hold him as you scratched his scalp with your fingertips. “That’s all your fault,” he muttered, letting go of his hold on you. “I’m glad I found you.” he said, giving you a quick kiss.

“I’m glad I found you too.” 

TAGS: @fanficflaneuse @accio-rogers @gloriousrebelrunaway @slytherinprincess03 @coldlilheart @aasthapiplani @nebulablakemurphy @strawberriesonsummer @l1teralegend @infinity1o1  @nevermore9292 @artist-bby @not-today-anxiety

@thatfann @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @starcross16 @bunny-bois @harddonutalmondhound 

Hi Johanna! :) I'm currently (and have been on and off for a few months) struggling with my view of Jesus' divinity. I have Christian friends who think Jesus = God and friends who think He was just a normal human like us and that's it,, and somehow i feel as if I'm somewhere in between rn? Learning that titles such as "the son of God" were used for normal human leaders at that time really threw me, and also that Jews now and I guess in Jesus' time think the Messiah will just be a normal human, and the "I am" statements in John's gospel were probably not actually said by Jesus but were written by John to kind of describe Him but also John said Jesus was "the word made flesh" not "God made flesh" and like what even is the word exactly??? now I'm thinking there's really nowhere in the new testament that claims that Jesus is God, but then there are things like Collosians 1:15-17 which sounds like it's suggesting it but doesn't explicitly say that Jesus is God...?? So essentially I'm just v confused and was wondering what your beliefs about it all are and why you believe what you believe?? and just really any information or resources you have on the topic would be v much appreciated, thank you so much (also I love your blog!) :))

Hello! This is such a wonderful question that I don't know a ton about, but I love thinking about it and I hope I say/find something that's helpful to you!

I grew up and still identify as Lutheran, so that theology is what I'm familiar with and am influenced by. I and my Lutheran siblings, as well as many other Christians, believe that Jesus was/is fully God and fully Man. Your phrase that you're "somewhere in between right now" makes so much sense to me, although for me it's not so much in between as both! Jesus on earth was born physically, had a human body and genes, ate, laughed, pooped, and died. I believe that, simultaneously, Jesus was God, fully divine. I don't have the words or the knowledge to spout perfect Trinitarian teachings right now (and probably never will), but my favorite description/representation of the Trinity is that God is love, and love is an interpersonal action. So love made manifest cannot be a sole being: God as Lover, Jesus as Beloved, the Holy Spirit as Love. That's only one way to look at it, but even looking a tiny bit into this kind of Trinity theology, you'll learn that we see Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as three representations of the same God, three in one. This is batshit crazy to many people, including many Christians, and I acknowledge and respect that! It is crazy! Anyway, all that to say that I do believe Jesus is a manifestation of God, but that God took human form and saw through our eyes.

A thought about Martin Luther's opinion: "Luther repeatedly argues that the basis for attributing divinity to Jesus is that the person of faith understands that Jesus Christ has done for humanity what only God can do" ("Martin Luther: A Pure Doctrine of Faith" by Micharl Stoltzfus, Journal of Lutheran Ethics, 2003).

Whether you think anything Jesus said was Him verbally claiming to be God, He, over and over, places himself in the role of God, forgiving people, healing people, and making promises/interpretations for them. I realized this while watching Jesus Christ Superstar (yeah, sue me)— whether or not you believe Jesus is God, Jesus obviously thought so, or at least thought himself at the same level as God. C. S. Lewis has a great point about this in Mere Christianity.

I think your statement that something was ". . . not actually said by Jesus but [was] written by John to . . . describe Him" is a good point about how we look at the Bible— if one believes that every word in the Bible comes directly from God, then that is God describing Themself as Jesus, so Jesus saying something and God dictating it to John would be the same thing! This isn't a criticism, I was just pointing out that what you believe about the Bible will definitely affect how you look at this— just something to think about! I'm not a Biblical literalist (or whatever you want to call it) by any means, but I do lean towards divine inspiration and the Spirit having a hand in the writing of the Bible, as well as acknowledging that the human writers' personal perspective and prejudices shine through.

Your question "What is "the Word" exactly?" is a great one! John uses the Greek word logos in John 1, ("word," "discourse," or "reason") as a title for Jesus, and it's absolutely beautiful. In the Bible, "the Word" is used to describe something that God has decreed, something that God has said when addressing humans, words that God spoke through the prophets, God's written Word (the Bible), and Jesus Christ Himself. Jesus is referred to as the Word in John 1 and Revelation 19. Jesus is these things! He's something God decreed, He is God addressing humans, He has spoken through the prophets— Jesus is the physical manifestation of God's Word.

Oh, one more thing! It's so interesting to talk about what the early Church believed, but I think it's funny when people use it as a "gotcha" when the early Church didn't believe something, and other people do. Like, was the early Church perfect and right all the time? Why can't the disciples and early saints get something wrong that later people got right? So obviously it's important to learn about early Christian theology, but it's not some pure teaching that we have to get back to— it's proof that we're constantly evolving!

Here are some sources/resources/thoughts on stuff I've talked about!

What are the strongest biblical arguments for the divinity of Christ? (Got Questions)

Was the divinity of Jesus a Late Invention of the Council of Nicea? (Canon Fodder)

The Divinity of Jesus: An Early Christian Debate (Cynthia Stewart, Saint Mary's Press)

The Divinity of Jesus & 5 Reasons it Matters (David Guzik, Calvary Chapel)

What the Early Church Believed: The Divinity of Christ (Catholic.com)

What Does the Phrase "the Word of God" Mean? (Don Stewart, Blue Letter Bible)

Logos (Christianity) (Wikipedia)

Scholastic Lutheran Christology (Wikipedia)

A Lutheran-Orthodox Common Statement on Faith in the Holy Trinity

Who is God—The Trinity? (Holy Cross Lutheran Church)

The mystery of the Trinity (Delmer Chilton, Living Lutheran)

The Moody Handbook of Messianic Prophecy: Studies and Expositions of the Messiah in the Old Testament by Michael Rydelnik & Edwni Blum

Christology: A Biblical, Historical, and Systematic Study of Jesus Christ by Gerald O'Collins

Is Jesus Truly God?: How the Bible Teaches the Divinity of Christ by Gregory R. Lanier

I'm not sure that I actually answered any questions— I may have just created more, but that is the nature of theology, I'm afraid. Good luck in your learning and thinking, and may you come to your own idea of how to think about and relate to Jesus— there isn't one right way, don't worry. I'm not even claiming that I or my denomination's beliefs are "right," although I do think they're true. (I like differentiating those.)

Thank you so much for your support of my blog, and I hope you have a lovely day/night!

<3 Johanna

Gregory Week - Flowers

Day 2 of Gregory Edgeworth Week (note: contains delayed speech Miles and Gregory excited when he does start talking. He’d had taken steps to learn how to communicate even if Miles didn’t talk because he loves his son but please take care of yourselves.)

“So when do I get to meet the most important person in you life Gregory?”

She smiled at him and his chest ached. He wanted to run his fingers down the length of her braid. Kiss every blossom weaved in. She was beautiful and kind and perfect.

“Soon Flora. Soon.”

He sat on the floor next to Miles as he sorted through his building blocks. Arranged them by color and size. “There is someone I would like you to meet. If you would be partial to that.”

Miles considered one of the strange pieces. Debated where to put it. Set it down carefully so all the lines were straight. Nodded.

“Thank you.” He outlined when she would come over and for how long. Miles always appreciated that. Knowing exactly what he was up against. It made grocery store runs less daunting for them both.

Hopefully this would be less upsetting than the grocery store.

She brought a large bouquet of flowers with her.

“Don’t worry, we were going to throw them out anyway. Oh! But- But I’m not trying to give you subpar flowers it’s only that-”

He took them. Cradled them in his arms. Breathed in their sweet scent. “I love them.” He wasn’t sure anyone had ever given him flowers before. Not before her. Kept them on the desk at work until she threw them out and replaced them with new ones.

It was the little things like that. Like how she packed an extra orange for him because those convenience store meals don’t have any fruit in them Gregory! You have to take better care of yourself! You’ll get scurvy! Or how she reminded him to sort through the mail collecting on his desk. Or just pulled him up out of his chair to stretch. 

Or how she laughed so bright and warm and it filled his chest. Just like it did when Miles giggled.

He wanted to be good for them. Be better. Be put together and organized and not be constantly two weeks behind on laundry and debating which of Miles shirts had the least amount of stains so people wouldn’t think he was failing as a parent. 

“Well I like doing laundry Gregory. And we all need a little help sometimes.”

Oh he could love her. Marry her. One day.

“This is Flora, Miles. She’s one of my friends.”

Miles hid his face in his pant leg. Waved with one hand and clung with the other.

Her lips pressed together into a frown. Cast a worried gaze up to him.

“When you said he wasn’t talking yet, I thought he was younger.”

Add this to the list of ways he’s already failed Miles as a father. That he didn’t know they were missing milestones.

She sits next to Miles as he flips through the pages of his favorite book. Evidence law. There’s a little chick on the front with a deerstalker. He’s had to move his current law books up out of the reach of sticky fingers because Miles loved to take them out and stare at them. Mirror him as he read his own tomes. Although these couldn’t be interesting, they were just text.

Miles wiped his nose against his sleeve again. A button up with a bowtie. If he dressed Miles up fancy enough maybe no one wouldn’t notice how his shirts hadn’t been ironed in months. She leaned closer and pointed to one of the pictures. Braid with all those beautiful flowers falling over her shoulder. Asked him a question about it.

Miles sneezed. A tiny kitten of a sneeze. Neither could stop the instant coo. His sneezes were just so cute. Miles tugs on his sleeve and then covered his nose with both hands. Tissue please. He understands. Retrieves one and hands it to him. Blows his nose with a honk.

(I hope he isn’t catching a cold.)

Dinner is Miles favorite. Which isn’t the most impressive of meals but in the debate between impressing Flora and making sure Miles was as happy and content as possible for the duration of the meeting, keeping Miles happy had won. Besides, he barely had time to clean the spaces she’d see before she’d come over, much less make something fancy. 

He reaches out and strokes the soft petal of the flowers on the table. They really made this place seem nice. Adult. Not like the bachelor pad turned baby playground it was. They could go to the farmers market together, swing Miles between them, and buy fresh fruit that wouldn’t rot in the bottom drawer half the time. Purchase nice art to hang on the walls. Always have fresh flowers for the vase. Have enough time to actually clean the dust he’d only noticed built up on the shelves once she’d stepped in the door.

(You’re getting ahead of yourself Gregory. Taking things too fast.)

“Miles dear? Is something wrong?” Flora asked.

He was wiping at his cheeks. Tears flowing. Snot running down his face. Discomfort and distress in every line. Breaths ragged like the start of a meltdown.

“Miles?!”

He scooted off his chair. Ran to his room. The door slammed closed behind him.

They stared at each other. Those beautiful flowers framing the shot.

Wilted alongside them.

“I should go check on Miles.”

He could never tell what the problem was with Flora. Miles seemed to like her right up until he started crying out of the clear blue. Began to sulk whenever they’d go to see her.

“I’m sorry Flora. Perhaps when he’s older...”

He knows she won’t wait that long.

She shouldn’t have to.

She leaves him with a dried flower and a book on sign language.

“So we can communicate even if you don’t talk.” He says and signs achingly slow. Has rehearsed these motions countless times in preparation. He wants to hear his son’s voice more than anything. But even more than that he wants him to be happy and understood. “I love you Miles.”

Miles plays with his trench coat. Fiddles with his attorney’s badge. He’s always worried Miles will pop it off and hurt himself. So far he’s been content to just shine and admire it. Cocks his head the way he does when he doesn’t understand a direction. Say that again?

He does. Begins to repeat the explanation on sign language. Miles shakes his head. Waves his hand. “Just the last part?” Nods. He hesitates. “I love you Miles.” He says and signs.

Miles watches his hand. Looks down at his own. Adjusts his right hand into position with his left.

I love you. He signs back.

His glasses immediately begin to fog. Tears blinding his eyes. “Can I…” Oh he doesn’t remember that word. He’ll just have to make one up for now. “Hug you?” Held his arms out wide. Shrugged his shoulders. Cocked his head.

Miles nodded and climbed into his arms. Pressed his ears against his chest. As if listening to his heartbeat.

I love you. I love you. I love you. He hoped Miles heard with every single beat.

I love you.

Miles played quietly under the bench as he argued his case. He didn’t like bringing Miles to court – one very prominent memory from when Miles was even smaller that ended in him covered in sick, making closing arguments through tears, and lightheaded with hunger came to mind. He really should have just switched to formula sooner. He hadn’t been able to keep up with the calorie demand. – But the Judge was always incredibly lenient about such things. Had taken a crying Miles off his hands to rock him to calm more than once. Refused to give him back until the trial was over, cooing his questions to Miles the entire time.

Wait. Did he just say-

“Hold it!” He began to say. Your statement contains a contradiction.

“HOLD IT!”A voice he did not recognize called out. High and loud. Young. He glanced around for it’s source. “Or Statement contains a,” Hesitation. He peered over the bench to the voices origin. To where the prosecutors, judge and courtroom were all staring. “Con-Tra-Dic-Tion!” Every single syllable was over and carefully enunciated.

Miles little grey head stood on the other side of the bench. Finger pointed.

The court erupted into noise.

Did he just- Oh that’s so cute! – why’s there a toddler – did you hear him?!

He rounded the bench and scooped him up. “What did you say?!”

Miles jumped. Looked away. Startled. Head bowed like he’d done something wrong.

“No- no no no. Miles what did you say? Can you say it again? Any of it. Say anything again.” Nuzzled into his hair. “I love you so much please say something.” I want to hear your voice so bad.

(Am I pushing too hard? Am I scaring him? Too much. You’re making this too big a deal. You said it was okay if he never spoke.)

It would have been. He loved his little boy. No matter what.

But he couldn’t help but want to hear that voice.

Miles buried his face in his shoulder as he squeezed him to his chest.

“… Father…” Came the embarrassed little squeak.

Oh I love you I love you I love you.

The prosecutor cleared his throat. “Gentleman… I believe we were in the middle of a cross examination?”

He rounded on the witness. Pointed with his free hand. “Yes! We were! And as my favorite legal assistant has just pointed out,” Miles giggled. Oh he loved that sound. “Your testimony directly contradicts the evidence.”

“Thank you.” The defendant’s eyes glittered with unshed tears. “You truly saved me.”

Miles studied him from behind his legs. Eyes catching on the brilliant fabric of the magicians cape. He pressed his hat to his chest. “I was just doing my job.” Bowed.

“Yes!” Magi laughed. The light caught on the glitter on his cheeks. “Take a bow!" Ah. That was… “You’ve put on a magnificent show.” Removed from his sleeve an entire bouquet of flowers. Handed it to him. “Truly. Thank you.”

He accepted it. They were beautiful.

He knelt. “And for the legal assistant and his indispensable aid,” Pulled one more beautiful flower out and presented it to him. “Here.”

Miles reached out. Took it. Inhaled.

Sneezed.

Sneezed again.

Magi covered his laugh as Miles sneezed once more. “Oh dear.” Pulled out a colorful handkerchief for him. “My apologies.” Took the flower back and made it disappear as Miles blew his nose. “I didn’t realize you were allergic.”

Allergic.

He dropped to the floor. Pulled Miles to his chest.

“Oh Miles. That’s why you didn’t like Flora. She always had flowers on her.”

And he was just allergic enough to be irritated.

What a fool he was.

“… Father.” Miles was tapping him. He forced open his eyes to Miles signing at him. “Why are you laughing?”

He received an invite to Flora’s wedding not a month before. They seemed very happy together.

That could have been us. If only I’d know about your allergies.

Father? He repeated.

“Because I’ve been very silly. And caused you unnecessary pain.”

(I’m not a very good Father at all am I? I keep messing up.)

“… Oh. You want another handkerchief?” Magi asked. “Here you go.”

Cloth touched his face. He opened his eyes to Miles very seriously wiping the tears from his face. Just like he would for Miles. He let him finish his very serious work.

Miles dropped his hands. Considered him from where he stood in the nest of his knees.

Raised his right hand and signed, “I love you.”

Oh Miles.

“I love you too.”

Something with wirt and greg pre-unknown, kinda showing how their relationship changed before and after the series

Ruined

Summary: Wirt asks his little half-brother, Greg, for advice, and unexpectedly receives the answer he was looking for.

I was so excited when I got this request! i love looking into Wirt and Greg's brother relationship, and have many headcanons about their family. in this, Greg's last name is Petley and Wirt's last name is Lee. just a little fun fact LOL

Word Count: 1,282

you can find this on ao3 here!!

    With a frustrated grunt, yet another crumpled piece of paper was thrown to the ground.

It had been several attempts, a hopeless endeavor that would seemingly last for ages until Wirt found the right string of words that would make its way onto the paper. He knew that the weight of his mother’s requests is what seemed to create this writer’s block, for it lingered in his head in a way that created a pallor among his face, a grimace of realization. If it weren’t for knowing that he had a little brother to babysit tonight, he knew his creativity would flow freely and pour from the interior of his perpetual mind. It was a simple thought, of course, that allowed the dread to fall heavy on his shoulders, and remain there for seemingly eternity. 

    The teenager would like to say he got along with his brother, and tried very hard to-- but his mind seemed to forbade this from happening. He had always thought about how one-sided his family seemed. It had already wormed itself into his head that Gregory had both of his parents, and Wirt only had one. It was an envy that made the older brother loathe himself, which in turn seemed to create a loathing for Greg. And for good reason, he had thought. Greg’s father practically ruined his life. And by bearing a child with Wirt’s mother, the anger had begun to be directed towards both of the Petleys that had made their way into his life without question. It was a selfish thing to think about, and yet, Wirt could not help himself. He blamed his own father for these thoughts, who had left them so long ago. Yes, there was so much accusation in Wirt’s mind, so much self-loathing, that it burned itself into his brain. 

    He sat back in his chair, thinking over the repressed anger and words that he wished he could tell his mother. Yet he knew he could never muster up the courage to do so, and knew of the punishment that would make its way into his already horrible teenager life. 

    And knowing that his mother and step-father practically disregarded both boys, especially Wirt, he was to pause and mull over his anger in his mind until his heart pounded furiously and he wished he were busy to keep himself occupied. So perhaps it wasn’t Gregory that made him mad, rather the parents that raised the both of them, and yet focused more on their work than their little six-year-old son.

    Wirt kept this in his mind as he rose from his chair, left the room, and departed down the stairs where he found himself in the kitchen. The house was comfortably quiet, and it seemed to calm him down. He filled a tea kettle with water, and set it on the stove to boil. His mind turned to elsewhere; The project that was due at the end of the week had proved to be troubling to him. Perhaps he should find someone to help him with it. The first person to come to mind was Sara. Oh, how he wished he could be with Sara at that moment. She was a very cool person-- so chill, and so laid-back. She didn't give a hoot about what other people thought of her… which is why Wirt admired her so much. If only she saw him the same way….

    "Hi home!" 

    Greg's words made him jump, jarring through his daydream so unexpectedly that he almost knocked over the kettle on the stove. His head whipped around to see his brother, appearing in the doorway. The small child practically brightened upon realizing Wirt was home.

    "Hi Wirt!"

    Wirt didn't smile, but he let out a soft breath. "Hi, Greg," he mumbled.

    "Oh, are you making hot chocolate?" He pulled his stool out from beneath the counter, and stepped up onto it so he could see the kettle on the stove, beginning to simmer and breathe with the gathering heat.

    "Tea, but I can make you some hot chocolate, if you want." 

    "Ok. Thanks, Wirty-o!"

    Wirt grimaced. "Don't call me that."

    "Aye aye, cap'n!" Greg gave a small, fake salute, and then stepped down from the stool. He kicked it out of the way, leaving room for a long, uncomfortable pause of silence that Wirt could not stand. It reminded him of the awkward silence between him and their Mom, when she was upset with him after a long, unforgiving day. Perhaps this pause was his fault.

    Greg climbed onto the chair at the small island in the center of the kitchen, grunting as he kicked his feet up and onto the seat. He drummed both fingers on the table surface. "So," he said, "Do you want to go to the funny pet store later? The one with the parrots?"

    "Uhh… not today, Greg." 

    "Oh. Ok."

    There was another pause of silence, and Wirt took that moment to daydream again. He thought for a moment, depressing thoughts, until he couldn't stand the silence any longer. He then finally mustered up the courage to talk. "Greg, how would you tell someone that you liked them?" He asked, and then turned to face his brother, leaning against the counter.

    The little boy blew out a small breath in thought. "I would give them a caterpillar." He responded.

    Wirt grimaced. He wasn't sure if Sara even liked bugs or insects or anything of the sort."Other than that," he said, and turned back around to take the kettle off of the stove. He knew how much Greg didn't like the loud sound.

    "I would sing them a song!" 

    Wirt thought this over, though he let out a frustrated sigh. He wasn't much of a singer-- he wasn't terrible, but it wasn't something he did very often. And he wasn't confident enough to bust out into song. He picked up the kettle, and poured the water into two mugs-- one with hot cocoa powder, and the other with a tea bag: vanilla black tea, to be precise. 

    "You play an instrument, don't you? You can play a song!" Greg suggested, as Wirt handed him his mug.

    Wirt nearly dropped his own mug. Of course! Clarinet! Why didn't he think of that before? His mind began to run, and he set down his mug so fast that tea sloshed to and fro. "Greg, you're a genius!" Yes, that was it. He could sit down, and record himself playing clarinet. And then, something else hit him: the mindless poetry about Sara scattered across his floor in crumpled messes. Clarinet and poetry. Two things he was especially good at, or so he thought at the time, and two things he was actually comfortable doing. Now he just needed a way to record it….

    Greg had smiled from ear to ear, clearly pleased that he gained a compliment from the brother that usually tried his hardest to avoid him. "I get that a lot," he assured, "But now we have to go frog-hunting together, to make up for my genesis idea." 

    "Genius," Wirt corrected, and then huffed, "Ok, fine. I promise I'll go frog-hunting with you. Later. Not right now. Before the cold weather comes." 

    "Deal!" Greg was quick to hop up in his chair, and reach forward to shake Wirt's hand with both of his-- like what he saw those business guys do in those cartoons. Then, he looked at the hot chocolate in front of him. "Umm… can you also put marshmallows on top of that deal, actually?"

    Wirt reluctantly agreed, but only because he loved his brother at that moment. Perhaps his life wasn't ruined, after all.

Dear Asexual-Deesasters,

Mod Edgeworth: 

If you want to know the answer to that question, go to this link.

Dear Skibot99,

Co-Mod: I’m fairly certain it was The Mod, but I don’t know for sure.  He actually had another one before it, made from an old Ace Attorney musical animation.  I haven’t been able to locate that video, unfortunately, but here’s the old banner:

Ah...  Those were good days.  Good days.

Dear Dawsongfg,

Co-Mod: It’s fine.  Besides, it won’t be too long before those letters are accepted, so maybe we’ll hold onto them until that time.

Dear skibot99 again,

Mod Edgeworth: The Lost Turnabout hands down. All logic is thrown out the window the moment Phoenix had amnesia. It’s clear the Judge knew something was wrong with Phoenix, so why didn’t he call for a recess or check on Phoenix? Not to mention Wellington was annoying. He’s probably the only character I would be hesitant to play as when answering letters, if only because he was so unbearable.

As for Turnabout Ablaze, I do agree that it is a drag to get through in the end, though the entire game of AAI was boring, aside from the game mechanics. As a case by itself, I wouldn’t put it as my least favorite, if only because I did get some funny parts out of it.  It also contributed to the overall story, whereas The Lost Turnabout could just be taken out and it wouldn’t effect the overarching plot.

Co-Mod: I’d probably have to go with Turnabout Big Top.  I honestly couldn’t figure out the part where you have to present Max’s poster without consulting a walkthrough.  Why couldn’t we just present Max himself?  Besides that, the ending was largely underwhelming -- the murder weapon was hidden under Acro’s blanket the entire time, but instead of seeing a screenshot of it there, we just have to imagine it.  Maybe it was a filler case, but that was no excuse for it to end so poorly.  Not to mention one of the witnesses was a literal puppet.

It’s hard truth, Trilo.  Live with it.

Dear skibot99 and Anonymous,

Mod Edgeworth: I… think I heard from her when the localization of DGS was announced? I know Mod Kristoph and Mod Maya introduced themselves when I came into the group. There’s a third person, but I only heard from her once. As for what’s going on with her… I don’t know.

As for the flooding the inbox, it’s fine. I won’t promise a letter or two won’t be deleted, but we may make an exception and I’d hardly consider 4-5 different letters flooding the inbox. However, I do highly suggest lowering your letter sending to no more than three a day to prevent deletion of your letters. The only time I’d say your letters are flooding the inbox is when you’re sending 10-20 of them, especially of the same letter, and we have to scroll down for a while to get to the next letter. We will only choose three out of that pile and delete the rest.

And yes, we do have a few that send us 10-20 of the same letter to multiple characters in the span of five minutes. Geez.

Co-Mod: Mod Paups has had to remain absent for personal reasons, and sadly, has recently communicated to me that she wishes to leave the blog entirely.  Thanks for all you’ve contributed to this blog, Mod Paups, and best of luck in whatever you do next!

(Referenced Letter)

Dear mungeondaster,

Mod Edgeworth: Since I answered this one, I shall answer your letter.

(^ Why do I always use this sprite? ^) Actually, the localization never specified if Manfred Von Karma was born in Germany or not. In fact, we never knew the German part until Justice For All when Franziska Von Karma was stated to have flown all the way from Germany. It never specifies any reason for this and fans were quick to jump to the conclusion that it means the Von Karma family were German, which… isn’t entirely true? Manfred Von Karma never said he lived in Germany and, for all we know, Franziska could’ve lived in Germany to study law or something.

Now, the OG does give us more specific detail on this, being why I answered this the way I did. In the OG, both Von Karma’s were born Japanese, but lived in America or at least have an estate there. It specified that they were originally born in Japan, which would be translated to LA, California in the localization. While using the OG canon isn’t normal here, I will use it, if the localization doesn’t specify things. In this case, it never specified if the Von Karma’s were born in Germany or if Manfred Von Karma lived in America. Since he had to wait out the Statue of Limitations for DL-6, we can assume he lived in LA for 15 years or more. That means he’s American.

I am still getting the hang of writing letters, but I try to stick to canon as much as possible. If you believe we’ve made an error in our letters, feel free to let us know, but also show proof, if we go against canon. We’ll be sure the letter is sent to the right mod or else fix it.

Dear  Bluedragoncody,

Mod Edgeworth: I... don’t know how to feel about that.

Also, I accidentally deleted your previous letter before this one when trying to post it on here. I’m so sorry about that. If you could remember it, would you send it again?

Co-Mod: I’ll just respond to this with an old classic:

Dear Aceattorneyismyjam,

Mod Edgeworth: I-I’m not a pro! I accidentally deleted an important mod question from bluedragoncody, because of my inexperience. Oof! Again, so sorry!

Granted, I am good with digital art and writing essays, but I’m still trying to get the hang of being a mod here. Believe me, I do get corrected on several mistakes I do here. I can’t really call myself a pro just yet. I’ve only just started becoming a mod here last month lol

Dear Dahlia,

Mod Edgeworth: I thank you for your support of this blog and my essay. Manfred Von Karma is also my favorite villain and someone I do feel is underestimated as a one dimensional villain. I think people hate him so much, because of how he ruined Miles Edgeworth’s life without looking at the bigger picture. They focus on the bad things with their black colored glasses without dissecting Manfred Von Karma’s character as a whole. 

One thing I love about this blog, even before becoming a mod, is that no one here ever portrayed Manfred Von Karma as the one dimensional villain. He can be snappy at times, but as proven in many of our previous letters, he’s also portrayed as being calm when threatened, polite at times and absolutely loves his wife and children. Yes, he’s a terrible person, but that’s what makes him so interesting. He’s a bad, evil person that does good things from time to time. It doesn’t justify any of his horrible deeds, murder included, but it does make him human.

Co-Mod: I’m...going to assume you’re a different Dahlia.  (I’m grabbing a Magatama of Parting just in case, though.  I’m sure you can understand.)

Anyway, thanks for being such a loyal follower!  This blog’s been through a lot of changes since it began, and since I joined it back in 2017, so I’m glad it’s still a good source of enjoyment for you.  I’ve seen all sorts of cringe by now, by the way (some of which I wrote myself), so don’t worry about it.

I’m also glad that the characters still sound like themselves and not like us.  The hilarious personalities and quirks given to them by Capcom’s writers, as well as the humanity in so many of them, make them easy to relate to, and thus fairly easy to mimic.  I may have said something like this before, but I see myself in a lot of them -- in Athena’s fear of inadequacy, in Apollo’s desire for justice in a world where it’s hard to find, in Sebastian’s confusion about where to go next after his world falls apart, and possibly even in the von Karmas’ desire for perfection.  I of course identify with their positive feelings as well -- Phoenix’s smugness when he gets things right, Athena’s joy after pulling off a victory in court, Adrian’s pride after her self-confidence is restored, etc. -- but there’s something about the struggles they face that make them easier to relate to, on top of being that much more awesome in the end.

Unfortunately, I can’t promise anything about this blog continuing on in perpetuity.  For one thing, I don’t plan on being around forever (I’m fairly certain the other Mods don’t, either), and for that matter, there’s also no telling how long Tumblr will be around.  All I can promise is that I’ll give my best while I’m here, and that the love from you and everyone else who shares it here is sure to be what keeps us going.  Thank you for your contribution!

Dear TurqouiseJavelin,

Mod Edgeworth: Hm... not bad ideas. Though, we mods choose our own mod names under the condition that it doesn’t match anyone else’s mod name.

Co-Mod: What Mod Edgeworth said.  Choosing the name “Mod Athena” may or may not increase your chances of being hired, though.  *wink, wink*

Dear Anonymous, 

Mod Edgeworth: Actually, Gregory was stated in the Autopsy to have died by a gunshot. However, you do bring up something interesting. If Gregory Edgeworth realized he was dead and last remembered Robert Hammond strangling him, he wouldn’t think “I died by the shot of a gun.” Since the Detectives weren’t aware that victim had died unconscious, they’d assume the victim would recall being shot and killed. This makes me wonder if Gregory Edgeworth was channeled, but never brought to court to be cross-examined.

There are still holes, but I do like your aspect on DL-6.

Co-Mod: Dang...  No matter how many times you come back to this game, there’s always something new to think about.  I honestly hadn’t considered those details about Yanni Yogi’s trial.  Your explanation makes the most sense to me, but there’s one other possibility regarding Gregory’s testimony -- he may have chosen to lie about who murdered him in order to protect his son from a murder charge.  That’s all open to interpretation, of course, so your guess is as good as ours.

It’s a good thing we’re not actual defense attorneys, huh?

-The Mods