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theshelbyclan · 2 years

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Meet the parents

Summary: Your parents want to meet Tommy, after realising you’ve been sneaking off to see him, but you’re a little afraid of whether he’ll behave

A/N: I just wanted to write the little piece, that’s literally all there’s too it XD Set around season 1, pure fluff and a little smut (Also, I’ve never written any form of smut before so be kind). Here we go!

Words: 2224

*****

“My parents want to meet you.”

Tommy blinked a few times, which made you realise you’d spoken out loud.

“It’s... Uhm...” you stumbled now, unsure of how to continue, “It’s just... I’ve been mentioning you, so they want to meet you.”

He smoked his cigarette in silence and finally said, “You’ve been mentioning me, eh?”

“They kept on asking, about where I went at night.”

“And what did you tell them?”

Somehow, his tone made you nervous, “That I was meeting up with a man.”

Suddenly, a sort of boyish mischievous glint came into his eyes, “And did you tell them what we usually do when we meet up?”

“No,” you blushed, “of course not.”

Tommy smiled and thought about how adorable you looked when embarrassed, “Better not.”

“So?” you asked again.

“So, tomorrow. 6 PM.” And with that, he’d put on his cap and walked out.

*****

It had only been a few months after the boys came back from France. You remembered that day so well: silently, they’d poured back into Birmingham, but they were like ghosts. So many boys who went off were absent now, but the men that had returned? They’d died too.

Your brother never made it back from France. Every day, you mourned him still, but life was too hectic for you to dwell on it. He’d told you, just before he left, “Remember to keep on living!” And so you did, with Thomas Shelby.

Without attracting too much attention to yourself, you walked through the lane, on your way to work in one of the shops. Before the war, and during of course, you’d worked in the factory, but Tommy didn’t want you to anymore. After he’d come back, he often decidedly little things like that for you, without many words. But you didn’t mind.

“Good morning,” you greeted one of your regular customers, who was already waiting by the door for you to open up, “I’ll be right with you, alright? I just need to sign this...” and you showed her the way into the shop.

You prided yourself on not being particularly noteworthy. You weren’t pretty, but not ugly either. You never had the best jokes or the most courage. Most people assumed you weren’t all that interesting and you definitely weren’t the most intelligent girl in Small Heath. But you were stable and practical, and a good cook. Or, at least, that was how you saw yourself.

Tommy entered the shops, just as your workday was coming to an end. When he looked at you, he saw something else entirely than your own self-image. From the second he’d seen you walk by, back when he was only fifteen, he’d taken note of you. To him, you were radiant. Not pretty and therefore easily replaced by some other pretty girl, not sassy or smart, trying to attract attention all the time, but you could light up the room without saying a word. And whenever you were near him, he felt calm. Maybe it was because you were so practical, but on Tommy it had the effect of him wanting to make an impression upon you, all the time. So he’d take you out, properly, he’d have gifts delivered to you and he would impulsively take you down to a special place near the Cut, just so you could be kids again, if only for a moment. You made him light, with all your simplicity. You made him at ease.

And so Tommy stood watching you, until you’d finished with a customer. Then he said, “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” you smiled, feeling his excitement radiating through those two words, “I’m not finished here yet.”

“Close up,” he urged, “We still have another hour before we have tea with your parents.”

“Tea?” you joked, eyes sparkling.

He smiled broadly and took you hand, but you protested, “I have to get changed first! Can’t meet them dressed like this.”

“Why?” Tommy furrowed his brows, “You’re perfect. Besides, your fancy clothes are only going to get messed up again, eh?”

Knowing exactly what he wanted then, you followed him out the shop, hastily locking up. Almost skipping, you followed him through the streets. He looked around to see if anyone was watching the two of you, but you didn’t care at this point. Your heart was beating in your chest for the excitement.

Under the bridge, he immediately pushed you up against the wall and went in for a deep kiss.

“Tommy!” You giggled, “What if anyone sees?”

“Let them fucking watch,” he growled in your ear and at once he made good on his statement by hiking up your skirt.

His hand made his way up your leg, around your thigh, searching frantically almost. And when he’d found your panties and touched you carefully, he grinned, “So, it’s not just me who’s been yearning for this all day...”

Like you’d been caught out, you blushed again. You’d felt yourself get wet the second he’d taken you from the shops and he was all you wanted now.

“Fuck...” he breathed, “All this, for some simple gypsy boy, eh?”

“You’re the most powerful man in Birmingham,” you replied, between moans.

“Yes,” he sounded a little breathless as his hand dipped into your panties, “And you fucking love it.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but as you did, he pushed two fingers inside of you, while rubbing your clit with his thumb. No words came out.

“Tommy...” you whispered, as you felt the stress and exhaustion of the day falling off of you. The warm sensation of pleasure seemed to engulf you, as he slowly moved inside of you. You opened your eyes for a second and saw him watching you.

For a second, he stopped and commented, “Fuck, you are beautiful.”

“That’s all well and good,” you replied, a little annoyed, but also not really, “but would you mind continuing?”

Tommy’s eyebrows shot up, “Very well.” And with that, he grabbed your legs, lifted you off the ground and draped them around his waist. You yelped out and the suddenness of his motion and he laughed along with you. And there he was again: the careless gypsy boy you loved so much.

With your back against the wall, he supported you with one hand and undid his trousers with the other. Meanwhile, he kissed you wildly, like he wouldn’t last another minute without it.

“Do you want me?” he questioned playfully in a low voice.

“Fuck, yes.” You were desperate for it now.

And so was he. Tommy pushed his cock inside of you, gently but certain. At once, a moan escaped your mouth. With a smug face, Tommy started bouncing you up and down in a perfect rhythm.

The sensation washed over you. Clinging onto his neck, you grabbed his hair and buried your face into his shoulder, to keep yourself from calling out. His movements were getting faster and you realised this wouldn’t take long. He did too, but always the gentleman, he took one of your hands and guided it down onto your clit.

“You first,” he ordered, as he traced a hand down your back. It felt like electricity running down your spine.

As you carefully rubbed your clit, Tommy adjusted his speed a little, not wanting to cum before you did.

But is wasn’t necessary. You felt the pressure building up in your abdomen and the familiar tingling sensation working its way down your legs. “Faster,” you ordered him about now, “Fuck, Tommy, make me cum hard!”

And apparently, just your words were enough for him. As he picked up the pace again, and you felt your orgasm take over, so did he. You arched your back and let your head fall back, as your muscles clenched around his cock. Another spasm went through you when he pushed in as deep as he could and ejaculated inside of you.

“Fuck...” he could only breathe, “Fucking hell, what are you doing to me? I’m like some fucking boy again, hardly able to fucking contain myself...”

“Me?” you laughed, after you’d gained your breath again, “What are you doing to me! I was a respectable girl once and now I’m being fucked under the bridge by a gangster!”

“Respectable, eh?” He smirked, after lifting you down from his waist and turning you around to hug you against his chest. Which was good, because standing was still a little hard at the moment. “There’s nothing much respectable about either of us.”

“Yes, there is!” you frowned, “Or there better be soon, because we’re expected at my parents any minute now.”

Tommy lit a cigarette and let his chin rest on your shoulder, “Or we could stay here. Go again. Your parents can fucking wait.”

“No, they can’t,” you said strictly.

He sighed in an almost disappointed manner.

“Maybe afterwards,” you smirked a little.

“Oh, well in that case!” He took your hand and marched off like a man on a mission, “Let’s go meet the parents! Come on, I haven’t got all day!”

*****

As soon as your mum had opened the door, Tommy had put on a big smile you hardly saw these days anymore. For a second, it had made you stumble for words. He’d introduced himself politely to both your parents and even told a few jokes to your younger siblings. He’d complimented the food, offered to help and had been an absolute gentleman throughout. You had no idea how to respond to any of it, but it wasn’t unpleasant by any means.

Only once, you got nervous. After dinner, your father asked, “We of course have heard of what you do, Mr. Shelby. Is it all true?”

Tommy cleared his throat, “People like to tell a lot of stories about me. Most are not true.”

“I don’t believe they are,” your mother reacted quickly, “You seem too sweet to be a menace.”

You send Tommy a look that said: Bravo, you’ve won her over.

Politely, Tommy smiled at her. But your father wanted to know more, “What is it that you do, exactly?”

“I’m just a simple man, a working man, just like you, Mister,” Tommy waved a hand, “And all I want is to make my business a successful one, and if I can make Small Heath a little bit safer in the process, that’s even better. You see, some people may call me a gangster or a criminal, but I look out for my own people. We’ve had it hard here, especially after the war, very hard. I want to make this place, my home, a better place and in doing so, I need to make sure some things change around here. We’ve had enough trouble with the big bosses and the police and petty gangs around here: I’m changing all that. And with Y/N by my side, her wisdom and down-to-earth guidance, I’m sure I can make a change.”

And just like that, he’d won your dad over as well.

After dinner was over, Tommy talked to your father some more in the front room. Your mum wanted to talk to you. She was as practical as you were, “Will he make an honest woman out of you?”

You looked over at Thomas Shelby for a minute and nodded, “I think he will.”

“Good,” she said, “And then maybe you can make him honest too.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” you laughed a little, “Tommy does what Tommy wants, and there’s no one who can change him.”

“I think you can...” your mother mused, “But I think he already is a good boy, deep down.”

*****

It was still early when the two of you left the small house again. Tommy smoked silently and you walked alongside him.

“So, how did I do?” he asked casually.

“Not bad!” you complimented, “Mum even called you a ‘good boy’.”

Tommy shot you a look like that was one of the most offensive things he’d heard in a long time.

You smiled fondly at him, “I think she’s right.”

“Good boy...” he grumbled, “I’ll fucking show you ‘good boy’ in a second!” But he winked when he met your eye.

“It’s cold...” you complained a little.

Tommy took your hand, “Are your hands cold?” And he put both his and your hand into the pocket on his long coat. It was the smallest of gestures but it warmed you right up.

You leaned into him and whispered, “Let’s not go back to the bridge?”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to fuck under a bridge in the cold... do you want us to do it there forever? Always hasty?”

“Nope,” he said matter-of-factly, “When we get married, we’ll get our own house. And as my wife, I’ll fuck you on a satin pillow, every day, like a princess.”

“So, pretend we’re married already?”you ventured. Because honestly, sometimes it felt like you couldn’t wait another day to become Mrs. Shelby.

He locked eyes with you and pursed his lips a little. And you pressed on, “You’ve met my parents already. I mean, it’s practically done.”

Tommy stopped in the middle of the streets and thought about it for a while. Then he decided, “Alright. But I just need to make a small stop on the way.”

“What for?”

“To get a satin pillow!”

*****

Masterlist

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #peaky #peaky blinders fandom #peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fluff #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders smut #theshelbyclan #meeting the parents #young tommy #cillian murphy

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cowboy-caboodles · 3 months

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Pease draw more Javid I love your at sm!! 🫶🫶🫶

as you wish 🤭 here’s the dreaded “meeting my partner’s parents” moment that we all have at one point or another, though i’m sure Davey’s parents are lovely <3

#newsies #character art #livesies #davey jacobs #newsies art #jack kelly #javid newsies #javey newsies #meeting the parents #jack is so bad at first impressions but that’s ok i love him anyways #maybe one day i’ll have the guts to come up with parent designs so i can draw a little family dinner or something #yippee #i mean i know they have official designs for 92sies #but like #i hate drawing adults

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spinderella-umbrella · 4 months

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Prompt: Share

@wolfstarmicrofic 99 words

“Remus?” Sirius tugs at his hand pulling them to a stop, uncharacteristically nervous as they come up to the front of Remus’ parent’s cottage.

“Yeah love?” Remus asks, turning around to face him in the dim light that barely reaches between the porch and the street.

“What if they don’t like me?” He murmurs.

“Then I won’t have to worry about how I’ll possibly share your attention.”

Sirius tutts, hitting Remus’ chest with the back of his hand.

“No really,” Remus smiles encouragingly. “They’re going to love you. C’mon,” he nods to the door, tugging Sirius along with him.

#wolfstar #microfic #meeting the parents #Drabble #marauders era #maraudersfanfiction #marauders #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders fanfiction

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ily-fictional-women · 1 year

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The Visit

Summary: With Natasha and Y/n being together for over a few months now it was time to make the visit. The visit for Natasha to finally meet Y/n's parents. Which could end perfectly, or horribly. (If your parents suck then the parents are OC’s)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Warnings: None that I know of, but if I should add anything let me know!

Word count: 1145

a/n: This is a request from the lovely @natsbaby, you can find the request here. Also for the parent name situation Y/m = your mom’s name and Y/d = your dad’s name. (Reblogs are welcome and critiques/advice are heavily encouraged, but please no translating.)

“Okay, we have a few minutes before we get to my mom and dad’s place let’s go over some ground rules.” Y/n pulls out her phone as Natasha drives up the snowy mountain, “Okay, number one keep the SHIELD talk to a minimum, please. Number-” Y/n’s cut off by Natasha’s laughter, “What? What’s so funny to you?” Natasha restrains her last few giggles, “Nothing nothing. It’s just kinda going to be hard to do that with the big-time Avenger thing we have going on.”

“Alright fine.” Y/n groans tilting her head back into the headrest. Natasha rests a hand on her thigh keeping a tighter grip on the wheel with the other hand. “Detka, it’ll go fine. We’re just staying for a couple of days. There’s nothing to worry about.” Grinning to herself Y/n stares out the window on her side. “Save those ideas for the drive back to the compound.”

Before Natasha can even park Y/n’s mom opens the cabin door excitedly. “Y/d! The girls are here!” Y/d smiles walking out of the cabin as he watches Natasha open Y/n’s door. Y/d inches closer to the car, “Do you two have any bags you need help with or anything?” Natasha opens the trunk of the car grabbing both Y/n and her own duffle bags. “Oh, no. I’ve got Mr. L/n don’t worry about it.”

Walking into the cabin was strange for Y/n to say the least, nothing had changed in the years she’d been gone. “Where can I set these down?” Natasha politely looks over to Y/n’s mom. “Oh you can just set them down in the guest room, it’s down the hall second room to the left.” Y/n furrow’s her eyebrows, “You turned my childhood bedroom into a guest room?”

Y/m moves to the kitchen stirring the pot of food on the stove, “Y/n honey that’s just what we call your room we didn’t change anything to it.” Y/d tries to reason with her, “Plus, Y/n the ‘guests’ are just your cousins when we have family over.” Y/n sighs walking away from her parents and towards her room. “Tone down the attitude ma’am. Just because you’re a little superhero doesn’t mean you can’t have manners!” Y/m retorts.

Leaning against the doorway of her old room Y/n watches Natasha look around in amazement.

“Your room’s cool. It’s so cozy.” Y/n flops onto the small bed back first. Letting out an exasperated sigh Y/n stretches out her arms, “Welcome to me.” With that comment, Y/n gives Natasha a sarcastic smile as she lies beside her.

Natasha elbows Y/n looking up at the ceiling closer. “You really had glow in the dark stars on your ceiling?” Y/n scoffs playfully glaring at Natasha, “Don’t shade the stars, Nat.”

As a few quiet minutes pass by Natasha suddenly springs up from the bed. “Come on get up.” Natasha has a hand outstretched to Y/n. Y/n groans, “Why?” Natasha grins pulling Y/n off the bed, “You’re gonna dance with me because you’re quiet. And when you’re quiet you’re nervous. Plus dancing usually cheers you up.”

“Sure, that’s true. But there’s no music.” Moving closer to Natasha Y/n wraps her arms around her waist inching her lips closer to Natasha’s.

The would be kiss was interrupted by Y/d clearing his throat, “Uh, lovebirds. Dinner’s ready.” The two awkwardly split apart Natasha making her way back to the kitchen first. “How much of that did you see?” Y/n looks at her dad timidly. He smiles, “Enough.”

With the dinner already plated on the table Y/n sits next to Natasha with her parents sitting directly in front of them. “So, have you two always lived in the mountains? Like before having Y/n?” Y/d looks at Y/m awkwardly before looking back at Natasha.

“Well, I did. This was the house I grew up in. But I met my lovely Y/m in high school when I had to go down to the city for school.” Y/m smiles at Y/d as he continues to eat his food. “Oh! Natasha!” Y/m perks up. “Has Y/n ever shown you pictures of herself as a baby or in high school?” Natasha smiles at Y/n mischievously. “No, I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.”

Immediately Y/m jumps out of her seat, “Great! I’ll go get the scrapbooks!” Y/n nearly chokes on the food she had in her mouth. “MOM! Mom! That's not necessary!” Natasha laughs with Y/d at the family antics.

Y/n groans as Y/m starts flipping through the thick scrapbook with Natasha. “Y/n.” Y/d tries to get her attention. “You do know it’s our job as your parents to embarrass you right.” Y/d has a cheeky grin as Y/n just slouches in her seat. “Dad. Don’t you have guns to clean or something before we go out tomorrow morning?”

Y/d puts his hands up in mock surrender but Natasha perks her head up a little from the scrapbook. She remembered a few weeks back that Y/n mentioned she went hunting with her dad a lot. “I could help you with that.” Y/d looks at Natasha questionably. “You know how to clean a hunting rifle?”

“Yeah of course,” Natasha replies a little overconfidently. “Good to know a famous superhero knows how to work more than a pistol. Come with me.” Y/d motions with his head to the basement. As the two finally leave Y/n wipes her head toward her mom.

“Was the scrapbook thing really necessary?” Grinning Y/m turns back to a page with a picture of baby Y/n. “Yes, it was! Look how adorable my little baby is.” Y/m waves around the book holding it up to Y/n. As Y/m places down the book again Y/n starts to get nervous again.

“Do you like her? Do you think Dad likes her? Honestly, I don’t know even know what-” Y/m takes one of Y/n’s hands. “Kiddo. Relax. I think I need to talk to her more but I do like her so far. And as far as it comes to your dad,” she pauses so Y/n can hear her dad excitedly talking to Natasha, “I think he likes her a lot.”

Running up the stairs of the basement Y/d pops back into the kitchen. He looks toward Y/m with a wide smile, “Can we trade Y/n out for her.” Y/n scoffs looking at him almost offended. “Dad no! You can’t do that.” Y/d looks down at Y/n in a mock straight face. “Well, then you better marry her.”

#natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff #meeting the parents #fluff #marvel fancic #marvel imagine

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raaorqtpbpdy · 22 days

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Spaghetti and Specters

Spike is going to his girlfriend's house for dinner to meet her family for the first time, and Man does he regret not doing any research on them beforehand. Now he has to fight for his damn life over a plate of what is honestly kind of mediocre spaghetti.

For @darthfrodophantom's prompt: Jazz brings a date home for the first time. She didn’t exactly brief them on her family’s whole ghost thing. Antics ensue.

Read on AO3

[Warnings for anxiety and overthinking spirals, mentions of abusive parents (not the Fentons)]

"You're sure about this?" he asked. "Parents don't typically like me."

He was standing on the front porch of his girlfriend's house. The sun had just gone down, and it wasn't quite dark yet, but it was starting to get cold, and it made him wish he'd brought a jacket, aesthetic be damned.

"My parents are not your parents, Spike," Jazz insisted, straightening his leather vest and fishnet sleeves, and he relished the warmth of her hands as she did so. "My younger brother has a goth friend who comes over all the time, and they've never had a problem with her. They're not the types who judge based on appearances. They may be... apprehensive, but they'll at least give you the chance to prove whether your respectable or not before they give you the shovel talk."

"Oh, joy."

His sarcasm was something his parents had tried to shame out of him for a long time, but Jazz never did. She said that it was just a coping mechanism, and a pretty common one at that. The worst she would ever do was roll her eyes like she did now.

"Come on, Spike, they're giving you a chance," she said. "The least you can do is extend them the same courtesy."

"And what about the non-binary thing? Have you told them yet?"

"My brother's trans, too, I think I've told you that before. If they hold that against you, then there are gonna be much bigger problems at this dinner than whether they like you or not," she responded, amusement lacing her tone. "I know you're anxious, and that's understandable. If you really don't want to do this, I won't force you, but you're stronger than your fear."

"You definitely want me to meet your parents?"

She shrugged and nodded. "I won't force you to, but yes, I do."

"Then I'll do it," he said. "For you."

She smiled that pearly smile of hers, the one where you could actually see that she'd never forgotten to brush her teeth in her life, and she pushed up on tip-toe to give him a kiss on the cheek. Spike was actually shorter than her, when he took his shoes off, but his platform goth boots alleviated his dysphoria over his height, and they looked damn good doing it. He liked when she stood on tip-toe to kiss him, loved the feeling of tilting his head down and wrapping his arms around her warm body and pulling her flush against him like she belonged there.

He didn't do that now, because they were standing on her front porch, illuminated by the bright neon sign overhead, and all the neighbors could see. But a kiss on the cheek was nice too.

He took a deep breath and smiled at her. His smile was small and dull, barely a twitch of the lips, and nothing like hers, dazzling, and full-toothed. She said she liked it anyway. She said it suited him. And he always believed what Jazz told him, because she was the most brilliant person he knew, and she'd never ever wrong.

"I'm ready," he said.

Jazz pushed open the door and walked in, and he followed a few steps behind her, his steps feeling mechanical and his shoulders tensed. At first glance, the inside appeared to be a perfectly normal home. On closer inspection, however, there were a few things that didn't quite fit. The vacuum cleaner in the corner looked weirdly high tech, and there was a magazine called Ectoscience Quarterly on the coffee table. The air also smell faintly of ozone and something else Spike couldn't place, something sour. Citrus maybe? No... he didn't think that was right.

Standing there, in the living room, Spike became suddenly and acutely aware that Jazz never talked about her parents. She talked about herself, and her dreams, and stories from her past; she would bring up her brother in passing from time to time, and although Spike never learned very much about him at one time, she'd mentioned him enough now that Spike had begun to form a mental image of the freshman in his mind; but she never talked about her parents.

Spike talked about his parents all the time, since Jazz was usually willing to let him vent to her, though he always asked first, just in case. He liked having someone to talk to that he trusted, and he trusted Jazz more than anyone else. She said that his family was manipulative, controlling, and emotionally abusive, and he'd never once argued with her, because they were. Jazz was always right, after all. The second he turned eighteen, he was going to move out, one way or another, and she had an open invitation to join him, although she hadn't accepted it. At least... not yet.

The most Jazz had ever said about her parents was something along the lines of, "and my parents, ugh, they're certainly not making it any easier."

That, she said kind of a lot. He'd asked before if she wanted to vent, but she always shook her head and told him she'd rather focus on other things instead of dwelling on her frustration. Her parents, apparently, frustrated her a lot, though he knew she loved them anyway. He hoped that meant that she could love him anyway, too, even when he frustrated her.

Still, that wasn't to say he knew nothing about her parents, just... almost nothing. He'd heard the Fenton name thrown around enough, at school, and by adults around town, that he'd at least gathered they were somewhat infamous, though he didn't know why. Spike was never one for eavesdropping, or gossip, and his hearing wasn't the best anyway, so he was always out of the loop on the local hot topics—except for the stores.

The Fenton Works sign on their house seemed to indicate that they owned some kind of business, although doing what, he didn't know. Maybe some kind of technology or repair shop? Although most of the business must've been online or their ground floor would be more commercial.

Come to think of it, he had seen them once before, at the beginning of the school year—months before he and Jazz had started dating, back when he was just the classmate who helped her with her psych homework. If he recalled correctly, they'd captured Jazz in a net for some reason and carried her away. Whatever that had been about, he had not wanted to get involved, especially since he honestly barely knew her back then, so he'd just left.

Now that he was in their house, surrounded by that weird, increasingly acrid smell, he was wishing he'd done a little more research before agreeing to come over for dinner.

"They're probably in the kitchen," Jazz said.

He continued to follow her through a doorway, and into what looked, on the surface, to be an ordinary kitchen. Counters, cupboards, tile floors, all perfectly ordinary. There was a decent-sized, round table in the center of the room with five mismatched place-settings, and as many mismatched chairs. There was a homey feel to it. Though it was a little cramped, and eclectic, it still felt much more welcoming than his own dining room ever did, always with a spotless tablecloth and matched sets of dishes and silverware.

But Spike also noticed suspicious green stains on the table's surface that didn't look like they could have come from any food he knew of. Just like the vacuum cleaner, all their kitchen appliances also looked like they'd be more at home on the set of a sci-fi movie than in an urban apartment. Again, he wished he'd tried to learn more before just showing up here.

There was a red-haired woman in a teal jumpsuit standing over the stove, humming pleasantly, and Jazz groaned when she saw her.

"Mom, I thought I asked you to dress normally when Spike came over!"

"But honey, this is how I normally dress," Jazz's mom replied, turning. "And you must be Spike. My, that's a nice vest! Jazz has told us a lot of nice things about you."

"Uh, yeah, that's me, and thank you," Spike said awkwardly. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Fenton."

"Oh you can just call me Maddie," she said. "And it's wonderful to meet you too. My husband's downstairs in the lab, but he'll be up for dinner, you can count on that."

She chuckled like that was supposed to be funny and Spike let out a weak, uncertain laugh so she didn't think her joke fell flat, even though he didn't understand it.

"You can go ahead and have a seat wherever you like," she told him. "Jazz, would you mind letting Danny know that dinner's almost ready? He's up in his room."

"Sure, Mom."

Jazz left the room without a second thought, and Spike was left with the utterly horrifying decision of whether to sit down at the table, risk taking someone else's usual seat and disrupting the family's usual dinner dynamic, as well as condemning himself to spending time alone with his girlfriend's mom; or backing out to find a seat in the living room, and giving Mrs. Fenton the impression that he was the kind of rude, anti-social person who would just leave her there to cook without any company or conversation.

Oh no, he realized.

He'd been standing there too long to leave. If he'd wanted to wait in the living room, he should have left the kitchen at the same time Jazz did. There was no backing out now. Now his only option was to sit at the table before he gave her the impression that he was an indecisive wuss by standing there too long. But which seat? Should he go with the one that looked the least worn? They all looked pretty worn, but maybe that was just because the seats didn't stay in the same position.

Just sit down anywhere! urged Spike's panicked thoughts. Your mere presence at the table is going to disrupt the dinner dynamic. Sit down now before she thinks your some kind of weirdo!

He reached out mechanically to pull out the chair closest to him and take a seat. Mission success. God, this was why Jazz said he probably had anxiety disorder. He was really trying to stop overthinking things so much, but this situation just made that tendency flare up like it usually only did around his own parents.

"Sorry none of the tableware matches," Mrs. Fenton said, though she was still standing over the pot, and not looking at him. "Jack and Danny are both a bit clumsy, so dishes tend to get broken a lot by mistake around here, chairs too, if you can believe it." She laughed.

When Spike smiled, he tried to make it bigger than usual, stretching his lips a little wider so she wouldn't mistake that he was smiling. It probably just looked creepy. He should stop. Should he stop? He should say something.

"I don't mind," he said. "It makes this place feel lived-in—like a home, I mean. I just think there's something kind of... uh... aloof about everything being a perfect matched set."

"You know, I like that," Mrs. Fenton said. "That's a very interesting point of view. Certainly makes me feel better about it." She laughed again. She was a cheerful woman, that or she just happened to be in a very good mood today.

"I must say, you seem like a nice boy," she said after a moment. "Jazz's last boyfriend was a punk. Very disrespectful and reckless. I don't know what she saw in him."

"I'm actually not..." Spike trailed off, unsure if he should even say anything. Jazz said her parents wouldn't mind, but he was still hesitant to contradict her mom.

"Hm? Not what, dear?"

Oh, damn it, she was already calling him dear, he couldn't lie to her now. "I'm non-binary," he said, trying to keep his voice steady and not let it fall too quiet as he spoke. "I'm Jazz's partner, not her boyfriend."

"Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to assume," Mrs. Fenton said immediately, looking back at him sympathetically. "Would you prefer I use they/them pronouns for you?"

"I actually prefer he/him, but they/them is fine with me, too. Whichever's easier for you."

"If you prefer he, then I'll use that," she told him. "I know that's what Jazz uses, too. I guess that's why I assumed you were a boy, but that's my bad. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

The only thing stopping Spike from tearing up at a parental figure not only correcting themself when they misgendered him, but also apologizing for it, was the fact that he'd worked so hard on his eyeliner before coming here and didn't want to smudge it by crying.

"It's alright," he said, then cleared his throat to keep his voice from shaking. "It was an honest mistake."

Jazz reappeared in the doorway then, with her little brother right behind her. Spike had seen the kid around school. He kept the company of one of the only other goth kids at Casper High, which was probably the only reason Spike had ever noticed him. He hadn't made the connection that this was Jazz's brother, though.

"Spike, right?" the boy said. "Danny. Nice to meet you." Without waiting for a response, he turned to look at his mother. "What's for dinner?" he asked.

Spike had been wondering that, too. He couldn't tell from the smell because it was overpowered by that other strange scent he still had yet to identify. He could swear he'd smelled it before, but he just couldn't place it.

"Spaghetti, Cobb salad, and garlic bread, and yes, you have to eat some salad before you leave the table," his mother replied. A timer dinged and she turned off the stove burner and put on a pair of oven mitts that were on the counter. "Danny, would you let your father know dinner's ready?"

Danny walked across the kitchen and opened a door on the far wall. Behind it was a dark, sloped hallway and some stairs, probably down to a basement.

"Dad! Dinner!" Danny called down before closing the door and walking back to take a seat at the table.

Jazz, mercifully, hung her jacket on the back of the chair to Spike's right to claim that seat. Then she went to help her mother transfer the food onto serving dishes. While the two of them started to put the food on the table, the building started to shake.

Spike grabbed the table, surprised. Was this an earthquake?

The basement door burst open, and Spike's eyes blew wide as he saw a gigantic man enter the kitchen. He was wearing an orange jumpsuit and a beaming smile that was actually strikingly like Jazz's. This must have been her father. She could have warned him that the man was a friggin' giant.

"Did I hear something about dinner?" His voice boomed, though it didn't seem like he was trying to be loud, more like he was just naturally big and imposing in every way.

"Yes, Jack, now take a seat," Mrs. Fenton told him. "Jack, that's Spike, Jazz's partner. You remembered he was coming over today, right?"

"I did not," Mr. Fenton said plainly, taking the seat on Spike's left. "It's nice to meet you, son!"

"He's non-binary, Jack," Maddie corrected gently. "He probably doesn't want to be called son."

It was true that, from a gender standpoint, son was not Spike's favorite word, but with the amount of affection Mr. Fenton had said it with, he actually didn't mind.

"Whoops, my mistake!" Mr. Fenton said. "It's nice to meet you, kiddo!" he turned to his wife. "Is that better?"

Spike tried not to get too choked up. "Yeah, thanks," he said, wondering if the Fentons could just adopt him now, or if that would be too awkward, since he was dating their daughter.

Everything was put on the table, and Jazz and her mom sat down in the remaining seats, Jazz to Spike's right, and Mrs. Fenton to her husband's left. Then the serving dishes were passed around the table so everyone could scoop themselves some spaghetti and take a slice of garlic bread and some salad (not very much salad in Danny or Mr. Fenton's case).

This part of dinner had little talking, except to ask for the salt or garlic bread to be passed. But once everyone had food in front of them, the conversation—the scary part of dinner with your girlfriend's parents—began in earnest.

"So, Spike, was it?"

Spike nodded at Mr. Fenton's question.

"What's your opinion about ghosts?"

"Dad!" Jazz whined. "Do we have to talk about ghosts at the dinner table?"

"What? It's just a question!" Mr. Fenton defended. "What else am I going to ask about?"

Jazz leaned over to Spike and shook her head. "You can ignore that. Ghosts are not a topic of conversation we have to engage with."

"No, it's fine," Spike said.

He really didn't understand why she was acting like this. They lived in Amity Park, so ghosts were a pretty common topic of conversation. When they attacked the town almost every day, that did tend to make people talk about them.

"Alright," Jazz said, as though he'd just insisted on going skydiving without any training, rather than having a conversation about current events. "If you're sure."

"Uh... I guess I'm neutral about ghosts," Spike answered finally, suddenly very unconfident in his decision to engage. He had thought ghosts would be a relatively safe topic, but he was definitely second guessing himself now. Were the Fentons some kind of ghost fanatics? "I wish they'd stop attacking our school so much, because it's really disruptive, but other than that, I don't really care one way or another."

"Disruptive, huh?" Mrs. Fenton repeated. "Yes, I'd say that's a perfect word for what ghosts are."

"Yes, although, I'll say if they were attacking my school all the time, I wouldn't exactly be neutral," Mr. Fenton agreed. "I'd want them gone."

"You want them gone anyway," Danny pointed out, rolling his eyes as he poked at his spaghetti.

This was, evidently, not the first time they'd heard all this.

Spike leaned over to his girlfriend and whispered, "Did I miss something? What's your parents' deal about ghosts?"

She turned to look at him with wide-eyed shock on her face. "Oh no," she whispered back. "Don't tell me you somehow didn't know? Everyone knows."

"Know what?"

"My parents are ghost hunters," she told him under her breath. "I thought you would have seen them making fools of themselves all over town, I didn't think there was anyone in Amity Park who didn't know, or I would have warned you."

"Oh."

Oh.

So her parents were fanatics, and he'd just decided to play hopscotch in a minefield. Great. At least that explained the weird stains, magazine, and anachronistic technology. And the smell. Now that Spike knew, that acrid smell was unmistakably ectoplasm, and if they were ghost hunters, it was no wonder that smell got stronger the closer he was to the basement where Mrs. Fenton had said the lab was.

How are you gonna worm your way out of this one, Spike? he wondered to himself.

What were his options?

First, he could keep trying to hold a conversation about ghosts with two people who A) knew way way way more about ghosts than he did, B) were way more passionate about ghosts that he was, and C) appeared to be very intense in their opinions on ghosts and would no doubt try to make him feel the same way they did. That sounded awful, but as long as he let them lead the conversation he could probably come out of it without looking like a bad person or a bad partner for their daughter.

Another option was attempting to change the topic, but that would require coming up with a new topic to talk about, and depending on the depths of the Fentons ghost fixation, there was a solid chance they'd find a way to bring the conversation back around to ghosts anyway. If they did that, he'd have to come up with another new topic of conversation, and that loop could continue until the end of the night when he could finally leave. He wasn't sure how fast he would have to cycle through conversation topics, and his mind was already blanking trying to come up with just one.

His final option was to fake some kind of emergency and run, but that would almost certainly lower the Fentons opinion of him, so he would rather put that in his back pocket and use it only as a last resort.

In his silence while Spike considered the best course of action, the Fenton parents had continued talking about the danger ghosts represented for the town's schoolchildren, and how they should really be taking much more thorough precautions than just installing ecto-detector proximity alarms.

First and foremost, Spike's goal for this dinner was to get Jazz's parents to like him. No matter how much he dreaded it, he knew which of the options for conversation would put him in the best standing with them. He only hoped Jazz could forgive him.

"So, you guys are ghost hunters," Spike began. "Have you met a lot of ghosts, then? What would you say the most dangerous ghost you ever fought was?"

Jazz turned to him with betrayal written all over her face. He knew that she hated talking about ghosts, and she obviously hated listening to her parents talk about ghosts even more, but if he wanted to get in good with her family, sacrifices had to be made.

Immediately, Mr and Mrs. Fenton started debating who the most powerful ghost they'd ever fought was. Mrs. Fenton said that it was, without a doubt, some ghost called Pariah Dark, although Mr. Fenton argued that they hadn't so much fought Pariah Dark as held him off. He seemed to be of the opinion that the most dangerous ghost they'd ever fought was Danny Phantom, who had—according to rumors, anyway—been the one who actually beat Pariah Dark.

Beneath the din, Spike leaned over to whisper an apology to his girlfriend.

"I'm sorry, I just really want them to like me, please don't be mad."

Jazz's look of betrayal twisted into a conspiratorial smile. "You sly bastard," she said fondly. "That's actually pretty clever."

"Danny Phantom never pulled the entire city into the Ghost Zone," Mrs. Fenton reminded pointedly.

"Just because he hasn't doesn't mean he couldn't!" Mr. Fenton argued.

That went on for a while until Danny huffed in annoyance and decided to put an end to it.

"Why don't you just tell him about both ghosts?" he suggested.

Spike wished that Danny had specified not to do so simultaneously, because what he got was a double-barrelled lecture on the most dangerous ghosts they'd ever talked. Both Mr. and Mrs. Fenton trying to talk over each other, neither of them pausing to let the other be heard, getting progressively louder and louder, even though Spike had poor audio processing abilities and didn't register a single word they were saying.

Finally, their explanations came to an end, and Spike nodded and tried to look impressed, even though he had absolutely no idea what either of them had said about either ghost.

"Wow," he said, it seemed like a safe response. "Sounds like you guys have had a lot of... uh... intense ghost fights?" he glanced at Jazz, who nodded encouragingly. "I bet there were some easy ones, too, though. Who's the weakest ghost you ever fought.

"Oh, the Box Ghost," both Fenton Parents, and, surprisingly, Danny, said simultaneously.

Spike had been hoping that question would carry the conversation a little longer, but he should have known better. Even he knew who the Box Ghost was, a total joke that didn't present a legitimate threat to anyone.

"Of course, I should have known," he said.

"You kinda should have," Jazz teased.

"Okay, well... how do you... I mean... what do you do with the ghosts, after you fight them?" Spike asked. Maybe that question would keep them talking longer than the last.

"We capture them, of course," Mr. Fenton said, which didn't bode well for Spike's time consuming endeavors.

"Then what?"

"We take them to the lab for study," Mrs. Fenton said.

"How do you do that?" That was it. If Spike could just keep asking follow up questions he could make it to the end of the night.

Mrs. Fenton began to describe her scientific process. It was kind of gross, but a little bit interesting. She finished with, "Unfortunately, I don't get to actually do that very often. Somehow the ghosts we capture end up escaping through the Fenton Portal. We keep increasing and overhauling the security systems in our containment chambers, but there must be some flaw we haven't found yet."

"At least they're escaping to the Ghost Zone and not into town to cause more trouble," Danny pointed out.

"I suppose that's true," Mrs. Fenton agreed. "It could be worse."

Eventually, everyone finished eating, and dinner did end. Mrs. Fenton invited Spike to stay for fudge. He said no, since it was getting very late and he didn't want to miss his curfew, but agreed to take a little box of fudge with him when she pressed. He didn't want to make her think he didn't like her cooking—although when he ate a piece at home later, he was sure that her fudge was way better than her spaghetti had been.

Jazz walked him out so they could say goodbye.

"You played them like a fiddle," Jazz said, beaming with pride. "I think they love you more than me after that dinner." She laughed. "And you were worried you'd mess everything up."

"Oh yeah, I was worried the whole time," he agreed. "But you were right. Everything went fine. You're always right."

"And don't you forget it," she said.

Spike leaned down to give her a quick goodbye kiss, taking her hands into his own.

"Thanks for having me over," he said. "Your parents are good people, even if they are obsessed with ghosts."

"I told you."

"Yeah, yeah," he huffed a quiet laugh of his own. "You always do."

"See you at school tomorrow," she said. "I love you."

"Yeah, I love you, too." Then he let her hands slip out of his and walked down the steps, waving goodbye.

He was not looking forward to returning to his own empty, aloof home, and his own cold, judgemental parents. One more year. Less than a year. Ten months, three weeks, and two days. Then he would be eighteen, and he could leave that awful house and live alone—or with Jazz, if she agreed. He didn't expect her to, but he could hope.

#dp #danny phantom #dp spike #jazz fenton #danny fenton #maddie fenton #jack fenton #meeting the parents #jazz x spike #idk the ship name for that #fic #things i wrote #phic phight #phic phight 24 #anxiety #parental abuse mention #overthinking #nonbinary spike (dp)#trans danny fenton

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kebuyo · 1 year

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Rei: I don't think your mother approves of me.

Shūichi: Don't worry about it, she doesn't approve of me, either.

#meeting the parents #akam #incorrect quotes #incorrect dcmk quotes #akai shuichi #furuya rei #amuro tooru #mary sera #akai family #akai shuichi x amuro tooru #akai shuichi x furuya rei #dcmk #detective conan

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jj-lives · 1 year

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I would love for Ghira and Kali to meet Yang for the first time being introduced as Blake's girlfriend. Like, Yang would be such a nervous disaster and the puns!? I think she's be on par with Sun's awkwardness meeting them but in a more endearing way.

But I honestly don't think Blake's parents, Kali specifically, would have let team RWBY leave Haven without meeting them all.

But reintroducing Yang to her parents, as not only her partner, but her partner has so many more possibilities for Yang AND Blake to be nervous disasters.

I can't wait!

#rwby #bumbleby #meeting the parents #yang xiao long #blake belladona #rwby9

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straying-further-from-gods-grace · 2 months

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Okay but what if write a short little fem!trans!Alastor?

👉👈🥺 to go with this

It was supposed to be a "Meeting the mom" drawing but I couldn't resist putting Al in this dress someone picked out for him and now all I want is to write Vox validating Alastor as a her-

Al's fem name is Victiore!

If you think Vox looks terrified it's because he is. Victiore is trying to shove him closer to Rosie, lol

#hazbin hotel #artwork #trans alastor #voxal #alastor x vox #vox x alastor #meeting the parents

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hilsonrecsmd · 2 months

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either love is a shrine (or else, a scar)

by jamesevanwilson (suhossineun)

mature | comp. | 80k ; marriage of convenience

Summary: House has a brilliant plan, and he needs Wilson's help. Wilson is a chronic enabler.

Getting married for the fourth time should be relatively easy.

Briefly, Wilson wonders when their friendship became such a tight web of intimate details- he knows for sure that none of his wives ever knew half the things House knows about him. It’s not as though their relationship has ever been one of vulnerable conversations and honesty, yet somehow, they’ve still gathered all this information about one another, and continue to carry it all with them.

reccer's note: i have desperately been looking for marriage of convenience fics and while this was not what i had in mind, it may have been even better!

#hilson #hilson fic recs #hilsonrecsmd recs #mat #2023 #jamesevanwilson #>50k #canon compliant #marriage of convenience #plotty #ft blythe house #amber aftermath #meeting the parents #fake marriage #slow burn #hurt comfort #ao3 #angst

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captain-lessship · 1 year

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Nature Or Nurture? Pt.1

Tw: Discussion of Dead Relatives. A *almost* smut scene.

Out of my way." you said as you brushed past a Gryfindor couple. They made offended noises as you kept walking.

"Oi mate, no need to be rude." one of them called. You rolled your eyes.

You were feared to say the least, amongst other houses and slightly within your own. 'Don't get in his way.' 'He is crazy' and other flattering things were constantly said about you.

You were the "Ideal Slytherin" the type that fulfilled the stereotype and retained said stereotype. Cold-Hearted. You didn't care about anyone and no one was worth your time but that didn't stop several people from being drawn in by you, you were strong and they wanted to stand next to you, not in front of you.

A natural-born leader. You were fine with it of course until they disturbed you. Like that annoying Malfoy boy did with his annoying 'Potter' this and 'Potter' that.

A loud smack caught your attention and made you wince in pain at whatever hit your face. You scowled.

"What's your damn problem?" you snapped. You opened your eyes to see a frantic but familiar Hufflepuff.

"I am so so sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going." You scoffed.

"Obviously." you said, looking at the boy who was now picking up his books. You put your shoe on one of his papers.

"Excuse me, can you hand me that?" he asked. You reached down and picked it up.

"Cedric Diggory?" you read, he looked up with an open hand, waiting for you to hand him the paper. You merely looked him up and down before walking off with the paper.

"Hey! that's my report."

You grinned, "Alatre Ascendare!" you shouted back at the boy, wand in hand. It made all his papers spray out of his books and into the air.

With that, he'd become... intrigued by you.

Several other people came up to him, picking up papers.

"Who's he?" He asked one of the Ravenclaw girls.

"Everyone calls him by his last name. Professor McGonagall forgot to call his first name when he was sorted"

"What is his last name?" Cedric asked, standing up.

"Shouldn't you know? He's in your year."

Cedric was slightly embarrassed. He always tried to know everyone in his year, even if it was only their house and name.

"Sorry, I've forgotten it," he said laughing slightly.

"He's Booker." The girl said walking away from him.

He smiled while scooping up the rest of his papers and began walking in the direction he thought he saw you going. He was looking for you when he was caught off guard by movement in the window sill high above the ground. He looked up and he saw you, simply reading a book like it was the most casual place to read the latest paper.

"Hey!" he called, catching your attention.

You looked down at him and rolled your eyes, "Hello Cedi-Didi." Cedric cringed at the nickname.

"How did you get up there?" he asked.

You grinned. "Wouldn't you like to know, Huff Puff?"

He was getting fed up a lil bit at your childish way of teasing him. "I want to talk to you, can you come down?"

You rolled your eyes, "Incarcerous." you said with a flip of your wand, making a long rope come out the end. "Are you climbing up?" you asked.

He got to the top and sat beside you, letting his legs dangle off the ledge. "So.. You're a fifth year? How come I didn't know your name?"

You glared at him, "That's the big question you had to hunt me down and ask me?"

Cedric had no idea why you were so pissed, "Are you this mad all the time?"

"Only when someone disturbs my read and also the remaining three hundred and sixty-five days. Twenty-four seven. " You said with a mean grin.

"Why though, isn't it much easier to be happy?" he asked. Fair question.

"Oh I am exceptionally happy"

You were just rude.

He smiled though, " I think you and I are going to be really good friends."

He never left you alone. Every time you were heading to class it was "Hey, can we eat together outside today?" or "Let's play some Wizard's chess." or "Can we study together.”

Your housemates had begun to pick on you, not to your face though. They called him your lost and sometimes kicked puppy, probably from how sad he looked when you turned him down.

They started to ask you why you didn't like him at all and you had a simple response; He is trying too hard. You were growing used to it but it was very annoying on your off days. Today was an off day.

"Hey! I was wonde-"

You stopped and turned around to look him in the eyes. He felt a chill. They were colder than the dead of winter. He just closed his mouth and sighed. Your heart felt a twang of guilt. What an off day.

"What were you wondering, Cedric?" you asked, trying to sound soft. He turned and looked at you with a smile.

"I was wondering if you'd want to sit on the window sill together again?"

You shook your head yes. He grabbed your sleeve and dragged you to the window sill. You looked up to it.

"So do you do the rope spell to get up?" he asked. You laughed at him.

"No, I took a few classes with Professor McGonagall. Watch this," you said.

You took a deep breath in and Cedric stared as you changed into a bird. You had taken her Animagus class! You had gotten onto the window sill. It took you a little longer to change back into yourself, a few feathers sticking to the side of your face and refusing to go back in properly. You brushed your hair of them and looked down at him.

"Impressed?" you asked.

"Holy- Dude, you just turned into a bird and just flew on your merry way? How long did it take you to do that?" he said.

"I started in her class when I was fourteen and I've practiced every day at this window sill. And it's not any bird, it's a Merlin," you said, letting down the rope and pulling him up this time. He sat facing you this time. It was just before dinner and the sun had started to dip under the mountains. He looked out the window.

"You picked a great place for your hangout."

"Thanks."

He looked at you and how the golden light shone on your features. You looked at him and thought the same but you looked down.

No. Not again. Not your heart getting ahead of you.

You were walking into the great hall for the Opening and Sorting Ceremony. You were excited to see who would join your house and finally eat the delicious food. You sat there welcoming new Slytherins and even clapping for the house of your best friend when they received a new member, which got you a few weird looks from your housemates but they knew not to mess with you and even then most of them knew about your friendship with Cedric.

After the Sorting, you wanted to eat but no food appeared because of the announcement Dumbledore was going to make. You stared down but your attention was brought back when a kid tapped you on the shoulder ad pointed at something you only heard stories about: The Goblet of Fire. The Goblet meant one thing was going to happen, the Tri-Wizard Tournament. You looked at Cedric to joke about it but you noticed a flame-like the one burning from the Goblet in his eyes.

"Oh god.. No." you barely whispered. Cedric was just old enough, seventeen, to compete and you knew he would.

You just knew. You knew what you had to do. Put your name in and pray it was you, not him. He looked at you and saw your expression and gave you a reassuring smile.

After the entire Feast and Ceremonies, you tracked him down and asked to talk.

"Hey! How was your summer?"

"Great, went camping. Do not put your name in that goblet."

"Woah, topic changed rather quickly, didn't it?" He said, pearly whites lashing with a slight laugh.

You sighed, "Do not put your name in the goblet."

Cedric noticed your genuine concern about him and he softened his charismatic eye-blinding smile into a comforting smirk, "I will be alright. I am strong." he said.

You just shook your head, "If you put your name in, I will put mine in too."

His mood changed, "You shouldn't."

"Why? Think I can't do it?"

"No! No I don't!" he snapped. You were shocked and you felt like someone had slapped you even though his hands were still in his pockets. You felt tears prick at your eyes and thus you turned and walked away, leaving the Hufflepuff regretting his words.

You didn't know what was wrong with you, you don't cry over stuff like this but he just didn't understand.

You were unpacking your stuff and everyone in the commons could feel the tense aura radiating off you with the energy of ten suns. You slammed your sock drawer shut and yelled.

"Bloody Hell! I can do what I want He can just- Ugh!" You slumped down beside your bed. Your friend, Daniel, raised from his bed and shook his head at you.

"Sad, innit? Simple, to fix it. Become his dream guy."

You flung your head up at him, "I do not like Cedric Diggory like that."

Your other friend, Rich, who was reading a comic book, spoke up "No, you don't at all. Except for the fact for most of last year and even over the summer you were like all 'Will Cedric like this?' 'Do you think Cedric is busy? Is that why he didn't write back?' and my personal favorite, 'I should write to Cedric but he hasn't answered my last letter, should I?' like no, you don't have the hugest crush. Totally not."

You threw a pillow at him, "Watch your mouth." You thought for a minute though. They did have a point.

You felt your face turn red and you heard Daniel chuckle at your reaction. "You like him."

"Yes," you started, "What is his dream guy anyway? What if he isn't even... "

"He literally wears rainbow socks." Rich, who recovered from the pillow said, going back to his reading.

"Maybe he just likes colors," you said. "I like colors."

"We are not going to go over all the less than hetero tendencies he has."

They did have a point; He was either too comfortable, to the point it was almost disturbing, with himself or a little fruity.

"So what is his dream... Lover?" you decided to word it.

Rich and Daniel looked at each other and got up. They walked to you and grabbed you by either arm.

"We got a lot of work to do."

"Wha?-Wait- Whoa! What do you mean?"

"Cut your hair, fix your dark circles and make it look like you've seen the outside world at least once. Seriously, dude, you look like you live by a lamp. NAd we got to teach you how to tie a tie properly." Rich rattled off. This... This was going to be either a disaster or the best thing you ever did in your life.

"Why so blue, mate?" Cedric's friend, Melissa asked. He was moping by the common room bookshelf and overall looking like someone popped his balloon and drank all the milk for his cereal.

"Oh.. Sorry. I just... I feel bad.”

"About what?" she asked, flipping through a witch fashion magazine.

"Well... I yelled at my crus- my friend." he corrected himself. Melissa looked up from her magazine and nudged the guy sitting beside her who was making his teacup float, Carter.

"Crush?" he asked, teacup slightly spinning.

Cedric knew he was busted. "Well... Yes. I... I have a crush on someone."

"And you yelled at them?"

"On accident. I didn't mean to raise my voice at him."

"Who is it?"

Cedric caved and told them the whole story.

"How are you not dead? If that'd been anybody else, they'll have to be hauled to the infirmary." Melissa said.

"He actually is really nice. He really likes birds. He feeds them every morning." Cedric said, smiling at the thought of you and him feeding the birds. He got to hold one as it ate some of the seeds you offered the birds. Little swallows and a few sparrows.

"Yeah, but he once punched a guy in the face and broke his nose so bad the bloke had to have surgery."

Cedric rolled his eyes, "Moving on. How do I make it up and well, tell him?"

"First off," Melissa stated, "We need to fix all that." she said.

"You literally gestured to all of me." Cedric said, frowning.

"Yeah... We got some work. Ok, what is his type?"

"I don't know."

"Useless Cedric, completely useless." Melissa said, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him till he laughed at her silly way o letting him know he is no help.

"Well, obviously, he is a Slytherin so he likes dark, brooding, and... I don't know, snake-y?"

Melissa groaned at this, "That is so biased it is causing my physical pain."

Cedric just shook his head at his friend's antics and looked out the window to see the stars. He thought about you.

He felt so sure about everything in his life but you came and now, he wasn't sure if you loved him, hated him, or were indifferent. A wild card in his moderately even and sorted deck.

"Cedric, you really like him, don't you?" Carter asked.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

That was a fair but deep question, "He listens to me. All of me. The part of me that are not that good, the parts that fall short, and the parts that get over emotional. He keeps me in sync and makes sure that I am okay. I know it seems like he doesn't care but deep down he cares a little too much. He is such a good person and you can see it if you just really look for it."

The duo were silent. Cedric never got deep but that was the depth of the Atlantic compared to his usual banter and jokes. Cedric just stood up and walked to the door.

"I think I will go for a short walk.”

"But Fil-"

"It'll be a short one."

Cedric walked out from behind the painting of the pear and took a left. He shoved his hands into his pockets and thought about you and he smiled to himself. Before he knew it, he had reached the window sill you loved. He just stared up into the light that was pouring into the stone corridors from similar high windows. He noticed a bird on the window sill and he whistled at it and he heard the tune played back in almost perfect harmony. He saw you slowly shift into you, you had gotten better at it over break, you no longer had to manually shove feathers into your head. A rope fell and he began to climb. Once he got to the top he noticed something different about you. You looked cleaner, not that you were dirty. More put together would be a better term. He stared at you and how the moon and stars lit up your features. You were made for moonlight.

He was made for sunlight, you thought. Bright richly colored hair, warm smile, and features. He was the sun and everyone knew it. People revolved around him in a happy social solar system and you were happy to join their orbit after being pulled in by his gravity. He stared into your eyes, melting down your serious demeanor, and you stared back before you or he knew, you both were leaning in close and gently pressed your lips together. He barely opened his eyes to see you up close. He gently ran his hand up to the nape of our neck. The kiss and following ones lasted for a while and then it hit you both what had just happened.

"Uh... I.. Did you, ya know, enjoy that?" he asked shyly. You smiled.

"Yea... Did you?" you asked, an equal level of awkwardness.

You reached for his hand and he gently slid his into yours. He leaned in for another kiss but you brought up your finger to block him.

"We need to talk about the Goblet ordeal."

He pulled away and shook his head. "I am really sorry about what I said. You could do it, I am just scared for you to get hurt."

"Then you understand why I don't want you to put your name in."

Cedric smiled and squeezed your hand, "I know I know but baby... I want to try. Dumbledore said it'd be safer than the earlier ones. Please.”

The sweet name made your heart melt. You thought about it. What were his chances of being chosen out of all the people who put their names in? Pretty low statistically. That eased your consciousness.

You smiled at Cedric and he smiled back. He went in for a hug and you hugged back. He gently pulled you to his chest.

"I don't sleep very well," he admitted.

You were surprised to hear his heartbeat thumping like a bass, it was oddly soothing. "Go to sleep, I won't let you fall." he said.

And he didn't.

It was a beautiful day compared to most when the other school arrived. You were chosen by your Prefect to help the ladies from Beauxbatons carry in their items. You had no complaints except that one Durmstrang who accidentally bumped into and nearly knocked you silly. He apologized as you started to cast a spell to make all the suitcases float.

"Wingardium Leviosa." you said and you began to visualize rooms that had been set aside for the students of Beauxbatons. You were done by the time Durmstrang was done with their introduction choreography. You walked in and took your seat.

Dumbledore rattled on about the number of tasks, the rules, and how happy they were to have the two schools arrived for such a big occasion. You weren't listening, you were thinking about how Cedric put in name in the cup the other day and you smiled and acted like your heart wasn't hurting. You clapped after he finished his spill and watched the tables grow to allow room for the two schools to sit and eat. You got up and offered your seat to a Beauxbatons girl whose friend had sat down in the empty seat beside you. You walked to the Hufflepuff table and found Cedric, who smiled brightly at you as he told you to sit down. A few of the Hufflepuffs were off-put by this but they came around after you started talking and not attacking them like they thought you would.

You looked at Cedric, "Do you think you will get chosen?" you asked honestly.

"Well, I think I've got a chance just as good as anybody."

Secretly he held your hand under the table where no one could see. He would rather grab your hand and shout to the world how he felt about you but you had said you wanted to wait a little while to announce your relationship.

"So, Booker, What is your favorite spell?" one of Cedric's friends asked, sensing your unease.

"Oh, I'd say it would be one of the first ones I learned. It's called Ferula, it heals things and wraps bandages around the target. I got hurt a lot and my Mom would use it instead of buying band-aids."

"Your mother is a witch? I thought it was your father."

"Well, My Dad is a half-blood and my Mom is a pureblood. He never really got to learn magic because his non-magical mother was scared for him."

They looked at each other and shook their heads in understanding, "Well, does he know magic now?"

"He knows a little bit. He knows about five spells well enough to cast them."

The topic had slowly changed as the feast progressed to favorite candy, wands, and so on. It was nice. You liked sitting there. They were funny and they didn't seem to have it in them to be critical or mean.

Today was the day. The Goblet would choose the champions. You sat there about to faint as everyone gathered into the Great Hall, waiting with a little more cheer than you had.

You saw Dumbledore walk up to the Goblet and gently raised his hand. Out flew a strip of parchment and he flipped it over to see a name. You held your breath.

"Viktor Krum." You exhaled so quickly it made your nose hurt. You joined in on the clapping for the Durmstrang man who walked to shake Dumbledore's hand and then on to a room.

Dumbledore raised his hand once again, you felt your palms sweat as he tuned to read the name.

"Fleur Delacour." You clapped for the Veela as she followed Krum's path: handshakes and to the room.

One last name. One last school. You were going to faint. He raised his hand and he looked at the name. You watched him as if he was in slow motion.

"Cedric Diggory" You burst into tears. Oh god no... He stood up and walked to shake Dumbledore's hand.

He nearly made it to the door when the Goblet lit again and another name flew out. everyone was confused, especially Dumbledore after he read the name. He barely whispered it but you could tell it was not good.

"Harry Potter," he said, voice full of unease and a mild tone of rage. "Harry Potter!"

After the whole fiasco, you found Cedric, he was leaving the room and he had a smile on his face but there was a thread of worry behind it.

You walked up to him and he grinned.

"Can you believe it?"

"Cedric... You can't."

He looked confused, "Why can't I?"

"What if..." you started but were interrupted by Professor McGonagall.

"Mr. Booker, We need you. We have a favor to ask." She said with a gesture to follow her. You looked at Cedric and tried to smile, he was happy and well, he was smart enough to not die.

You sat in McGonagall's office and waited. She came backing with Dumbledore, Lady Maxime, The head of Beauxbatons, and Professor Karkaroff, Head of Durmstrang.

"So, Professor McGonagall tells me you are one of her best Animagious students and you have mastered your form. Can you please show us?" Dumbledore asked.

You looked at McGonagall who smiled and shook her head. You stood up and you breathed in and as you breathed out, you shifted into a Merlin. After the shift was done, you flew up to the iron chandelier and sat up there.

"This Wonderful!" Professor Karakoff said, "He can observe Tournament." now you knew what they wanted to ask. You gently flew back to the ground and changed back into a human.

"Mr. Booker, do you think you would consider? We considered Broomsticks but.. they upset one of the tasks." You looked at the four professors.

'Help where you can.' You heard

Cedric's voice in the back of your head.

"Of course. It's an honor," you said.

You sat up on the window sill, watching the stars, waiting for Cedric. You heard his footsteps and you changed. You smiled down at him as you sent down a rope, he climbed up and sat right next to you. He opened a bag and handed you a small box.

"I am sorry I didn't write. I never got them because I wasn't home for most of the summer." That explained it.

"So to make up for it, I got you something.”

"You didn't have to do that, It couldn't be helped." you looked at the box that was wrapped in brown paper and tied with a gold rope.

"C'mon, open it!" he said. You undid the rope and tore the paper. You opened the small box and saw a small gold chain bracelet. Two charms dangling from it caught your eye. One was a gold miniature copy of your wand: Ten-inch, Willow and it had a handle that was carved to look like feathers. The other was a flowering Rosemary.

"Well, the wand is self-explanatory. What about the Rosemary?"

Cedric blushed a little bit, "Well, we actually took Herbology together in our first year. I never said hi though. You seemed scary and despondent."

You chuckled, "I guess I was."

You put on the bracelet and turned to your bag, you had gotten him a little something. You handed him a box that was decorated in silver and tied with a black ribbon. He smiled as he opened it like a child on Christmas. It was a mirror.

He looked at you and you smiled.

"Um, I think it's pretty."

"It's not just a Mirror. It's a memory Mirror. If the mirror can reflect something, it will be stored in the mirror. You then can put it in the moonlight and it will these memories like a movie."

He looked more intrigued now. He looked at the mirror and then slid it into the moonlight. Slowly a replica of his face appeared above the mirror. "How did you get this?"

"Oh... It was a very old gift. I used to make copies of myself.”

"Then you should keep it."

"No... I don't like it anymore," you said, sadness seeping into your voice.

He looked at you, concern on his face, "Why?"

"It was a gift from my Mother. I miss her and I used to spend hours staring at her image from the mirror but all I accomplished was more grief every time the moonlight went away." You looked out the window.

"She loved us. Me and my sisters. She'd point us out to her friends and talk about us. 'Grace, oh well, she is doing fabulous! She recently got married.' 'Tiffany? She started working at the Ministry' and 'Him? He is going to Hogwarts next year. I am so excited! My wand left me and chose him, Ha! Can you believe that!' She was so proud of us all."

Cedric wrapped his arms around you. "What happened to her?"

"She got very sick. Her wand knew, that's why it chose me. She got to the point where she couldn't walk. A few days after that, I went to wake her up and she barely opened her eyes and asked me to get everyone. She said goodbye."

Cedric felt your tears dampen his t-shirt as he held you. "I am sure she is still proud of you. You're talented, beautiful and no matter what you saw, you've got a good heart."

"I miss her so much."

"Tell me about her."

You smiled, "She would have loved you. She was very firey and aggressive when it came to her friends and family. She would sing us lullabies and rock us. I remember the last time she rocked me was when I was four. I had tripped and cut my knee. She showed me magic that day. She let me hold her wand. Willow and Veela hair."

"Is that why you offered to help the Beauxbatons students? Cause some of them are Veela's like your Mom?"

"No, she wasn't a Veela but her best friend is. She offered her hair when they were making wands. She did attend Beauxbatons though."

You told Cedric about her and in the end, it felt like, in a way, he had met her." She would have stayed and become a professor if she hadn't fallen in love with my Dad. They were very happy."

"Like us?”

You paused, "Yeah. Like us."

Cedric smiled. You let your thought leave your mouth.

"Cedric. You are my home."

"How so?"

"Home is where your heart is."

The clock tower chimed for four in the morning. He looked at you, you had fallen asleep. He smiled as gently nudged you awake so you could sneak back to your commons. Cedric was quietly but hurriedly walking to his when he met someone: Dumbledore.

"Ah, Young Cedric. Early aren't we?" he said, smiling. "Why so early young man?"

"I- Um I was..."

"In the window sill," Dumbledore said, "Follow me, let's talk about this."

Cedric walked with DUmbledore, slightly slower than he'd normally walk. "So, am I in trouble?"

"No. You were just being a teenager. The Muggle equivalent of sneaking out of the house."

Cedric smiled, measured you weren't in trouble. "I guess."

"Mr. Booker forgot to tell you though. He will be watching from above."

"Oh? How- Oh wait."

"He has a knack for it, hm?"

"Yeah. It's so cool. He just goes and flies away."

Dumbledore shook his head, "I've seen a change in the both of you. So has the other professors. They say you seem to care a little bit more about the details and they tell me that he helps people, especially the underclassmen Slytherins. He must know it's rough."

"Yeah... I guess we've both changed."

"Love finds a way to change things," Dumbledore said.

"Love will find a way." Cedric repeated.

"Dragons." Cedric said to you as he looked at you. You were in the library reading up on some potions books since you had nothing else to do.

"Good morning to you," you said, looking up.

"How do I fight a dragon?" he asked, sitting down in the chair across from you.

"Why?”

"Cause... Harry Potter told me that the challenge would be dragons."

You picked up your cup of tea and sipped from it, "He could have lied."

"But what if he didn't?"

He had a point."Ok well, Cedric what do dragons do? Breathe fire. Put out the fire, beat the dragon."

"Ok, but that seems like... too easy." he said.

"Too easy? Well... Maybe if the dragon is focused on something else, it won't have time to deal with you."

He leaned over the table, "What can I distract it with?"

You began sharpening his skill in Transfiguration and now it was time to shine.

You walked in behind the Champions. You were followed by McGonagall, who would let you shift and then send you out to fly around and observe the champions. You shook Viktor's hand and kissed Fluer's hand before you got to Harry Potter.

"I am there to make sure you don't die." The boy looked stunned, but you recovered with a laugh. "No, no. You probably are safe. With or without me."

Lastly, you saw Cedric, he looked nervous but he smiled at you. You hugged him and whispered in his ear.

"Do your best."

You walked to McGonagall, who opened the curtain enough for your bird form to go through. You slowly shifted, which caught the other three champions off guard. You flew out and went up to the clouds. You loved flying. It was just you, the clouds, and the rush of the wind. Your wings could take you anywhere and be strong enough to make sure you got there. You began to dive back down as a cymbal sounded, time to do your job.

First was Cedric. You watched from above. 'Make sure no one cheats.' You watched him intently.

He dodged some of the fire before finding the perfect rock. You heard him shout out the spell and you flew down closer to caw in approval but the rock didn't turn into another dragon and he didn't call out the enlarging charm. It instead was a dog! You mildly panicked but you noticed the dragon was interested in the dog and that Cedric was sprinting for the egg.

He made it into the nest area when the dragon turned and noticed him. The dragon erupted a huge wave of fire on top of him.

'In case of potential death, help the champion." you flew down but that's when you noticed something. It seemed something was pushing back the fire but struggling to do so quickly.

A line from a poem came into mind, "Eating fire is your ambition."

Cedric had ambition.

He pushed up with the shield he was making. He had the egg, all he had to do was get out of the nest. "Dragons can breathe fire for twenty minutes." He just had to outlast the last fifteen. He counted down and made sure he had a good grip on the egg.

Now!

He pushed up with such force the shield hit the dragon in the face and knocked loose a few fangs. He was sweaty and very tired. He noticed you land and change to make sure he had brought the egg. He smiled as he stumbled to you, he lifted his wand.

"Orchideous." he said. A bouquet spilled out of the end of his wand. And like that he hit the ground out of exhaustion.

Cedric coughed himself awake. He was in the infirmary. He looked and saw you reading a book.

"Morning," he said, not knowing how long he'd been out.

"You inhaled enough smoke to kill a large dog."

"Four-twenty. Blaze it." he chuckled as he did a peace sign.

You laughed but you also rolled your eyes. "I wish I could stay mad at you."

You looked to his bedside t table. "A couple of people dropped you off some gifts. And don't forget," you raised a golden egg, "Mr. Second place, we need to figure this out."

He smiled, "Well, open the egg first." you reached to the top of it and undid it. The scream the egg let out hurt your ears and you could not have shut it fast enough.

"Yeah... That isn't good." You said sitting beside him. He groaned at the dismay of it not being easy.

After opening a few gifts, you spoke up.

"While you were sleeping. Dumbledore announced the date for the second task and another thing."

"What?" he asked, eating some of his Every Flavor Jelly Beans.

"The Yule Ball," you said.

He looked at you and smiled. "So are we going together?" he asked.

"Cedric... I don't think-"

"Please. I want to go with you."

You sighed, "Ok ok... But if anyone who isn't our friend asks. We are friends."

"Embarrassed of me?" he asked, half-joking, half-serious.

"No. It's just what if they-" Cedric sat up and leaned to press his head against yours.

"The people who love us will understand and the ones that don't will either get over it or have to fight me," he said, smiling.

You sighed, he was right. "Say, you are allowed to leave. Want to go get dinner?"

"Yes, I am starving," he said. He stood up and went to get dressed.

You waited outside the door for him as you thought about what you were going to do. He walked out of the door and you instantly grabbed his hand. he was a little surprised but you just held on as you both walked to go get food. You walked into the Great hall and headed for the Hufflepuff Table. They looked at you and a lot of them smiled and a few even raised a glass to Cedric.

"Congrats! On both." Melissa said. You and Melissa had become friends because of your life subscription to a fashion magazine and she would help you with other things.

"Thanks," Cedric said, squeezing your hand tighter.

"So Booker, I need your opinion."

"On?"

"Dresses. Sprout said we could all go one day and get suits and dresses and I am sure she'd let you come along!" she said. "Now, what color? I feel like a blue or maybe a pink"

You and Melissa rattled on about dresses, colors, and styles. Cedric got to thinking about the egg. He had time but he needed to figure it out or else it bother him for days. Suddenly, an idea hit him. The first trial was fire so it was maybe water.

"Hey, I think I am going to go get a bath and go to bed."

"Okay, see you later," you said to him.

You went back to chatting when a pair of Ravenclaw girls walked behind you, they were just chatting but your ears caught what the dark-haired one said.

"I like Cedric, Do you think he'll ask me to go?"

You felt your heart drop as you looked to see who exactly it was and saw Cho Chang. She was stunning, beautiful, and kind. You felt a twinge of envy.

Everyone had heard it too and they just stared at you. "Well... I guess I will be leaving now," you said. You stood up and almost ran out of the Great Hall. You ran til you slammed right into someone.

"I am so sorry, I just-"

"Boy, you shouldn't be running in the halls, and what is wrong with you?" It was Snape.

"Oh Professor Snape, I was just... I just am not doing too well. Apologies." You started to walk away.

"Wait a moment," he said walking to you. "What has you distraught?"

"It's nothing... You probably won't get it."

"Try me."

You sighed and sniffed, "Well, I liked someone and I thought they liked me too. But... I guess they don't." you said, trying to keep it as vague as possible.

Snape crossed his arms, "First of all, why should you be the one in tears. Second, never let someone make you cry."

"But I..."

"Loves hurts young man. Know when your beat but go on with your life. You only hurt yourself if you try to stay with the memories." He turned and walked away.

He had a point.

Cedric had just got into the water with the egg. He slowly opened the egg and heard a very beautiful voice come out of it. He listened to it several times and made mental notes about it all. He then thought about you and how you helped him with the Transfiguration. He smiled as he sat in the water. He also needed to tell Harry about the eggs. He had to because Harry told him about the dragons.

He heard a door open and he looked to see you. He waved.

"How did you get in?"

"Quidditch Captain."

He remembered that you had replaced the last one. You were a great Keeper and were very competitive. You once had thrown your shoe at the snitch to scare it away from him.

"Well, I figured ou-"

"Cho Chang. Who is she to you? In one minute or less. I will walk out of here Cedric."

"Uh, I... I know her, yeah, We have some of the same classes and she's smart. Why?"

You huffed "Well obliviously she thinks there's more to you two?"

Cedric turned to fully face you, "What are you on about?"

"She wants you to ask her to the Yule Ball and-" Cedric grabbed your hand.

"Baby. Listen, she might want me to, but I would never. I already have the best date."

You sighed, "You need to start letting me finish my sentences."

It was the day You all went to go grab your suits and such. The previous week, you all had gone and gotten measured and ordered which suits and dresses you wanted.

You had received a letter that your order was in so you and Cedric walked hand in hand, falling a little behind the group, to go grab the outfits. You all also talked about going to Honeydukes which Cedric responded with the worst thing you ever heard.

"I would but he's already sweet enough." Cringe radiated along with laughter through the group. You had also dragged Rich and Daniel along.

"We aren't even attending the ball, why do we need to come along?" Rich complained.

"You need the sun."

"It is literally snowing."

Despite their complaining, they were having a good time and even reconsidered not going when they met Melissa and her friend, Emma.

You had made it to the shop and began to look at the suits that had come in for you. You grabbed yours and made your way to go change. You took off your clothes and looked at the suit and noticed how finely it had been made.

You started with the button shirt and noticed something. The neckline went down further than you planned. This is what you got for refusing to wear the typical ones. Dammit. You put on the rest of the suit and turned to the mirror and it spoke.

"Looking good handsome!"

You shook your head and pulled back the curtain to see Cedric and Daniel, waiting for a dressing room to open. Daniel nudged Cedric to look at you and when he did, he turned red in the cheeks and his jaw dropped.

"Cedric. Flies."

He shut his mouth, "You look great." he mumbled out. You laughed as you turned back, shut the curtain, and rushed to change back into your normal clothes.

Cedric looked amazing, not surprised but he could help but make it look like he walked fresh off the runway.

"He could go into modeling in case the writing thing doesn't work." You said, watching him spin and make sure his outfit looked perfect. You smiled at him and checked himself out in the mirror.

"Stay Humble." Cedric's friend, Carter said.

"I am. Do you think I should get a haircut?"

Groans erupted. There was nothing wrong with wanting to look good, especially for a special occasion.

You walked in next to Cedric. He put his arm out for you to loop yours around. You walked at an okay pace and felt eye glue to the two of you. You felt so nervous and like you were sweaty. You looked at Cedric, who looked like it was nothing but a thing.

You heard whispers and you felt like you were going to vomit if Cedric didn't walk faster. You looked at the people and, despite your feelings a lot of them had genuine smiles, not joking or malicious ones. You felt the nerves wash off a little bit.

You eventually separated, he went to get drinks and you went to claim a table. You saw Melissa and her date, your friend, Daniel so you flagged them over.

"So, Where's Cedric?" Daniel asked.

"He went to go grab a drink." you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You looked to see Cho Chang and one of her friends.

"Booker. I am really really sorry. I didn't think you would have heard me cause I thought you were sitting at the Slytherin table and I didn't know you and Cedric were a thing.”

You looked at her and smiled, "It's alright. I typically do sit at the Slytherin table and you didn't know. I am sure you weren't the only one with a crush on him. I really appreciate your apology."

"Oh, that's a relief. Thank you and have fun!" she said as her friend pulled her onto the dancefloor.

"Alright. Which one of you told her?"

"Actually I did." you heard Cedric say as he returned.

"Oh my god.."

"I knew it upset you. Don't worry I was really nice about it and she actually said we look cute together."

"That's sweet of her," you said, sipping the drink.

"Yeah," he said, drinking some of his own, "Do you want to dance?"

"I suck at it but yes."

You took Cedric's hand as he led you to the dance floor. He slowly placed his hand on your waist, "One of us has to lead." he said, smiling at you. He then began to swirl and spin you around the dancefloor. You laughed as he tried to spin you as fast as he could and he attempt to dip you.

After the slow dances were the more enjoyable dances in your opinion. You had to take off your suit jacket to keep up with him and his dance moves. You grew to love the feeling of his hands on your hips and the sight of him looking at you like you were the most beautiful person he'd ever seen.

You and him were growing very tired and had gone to sit down at the table. He sat right beside you and leaned into your ear to whisper.

"You looked beautiful." Now, wait a minute. There was something else besides love in that. You felt your face flush as his hand came up to sit on your upper thigh.

"Uuh, Cedric.. We are-"

"Shh. Let's go. it's almost midnight anyway." He said, "Only if you want to though?" he said with a smirk. No matter what smile he had, you loved them.

You and him walked out into the hallway, he gently pulled you along.

"You aren't the only one with a hideout." he said as he came to a very old-looking door. It was a smaller room but you couldn't get a good look because Cedric shut the door and pressed you up against it.

He gently pressed his lips against yours. He was always gentle at the start. Slowly he started to get a little more forceful, you pressed back and looped your arms around his neck. He lifted you off the door and pulled his lips away.

"We know where this is going to go, right?"

"Yeah," you said, slightly out of breath.

"Do you want it to?"

You thought for a moment. "Yes."

He smiled. He sat you down on top of an old desk and he slowly went to kiss your neck. You sat there, skin heating up as he kissed and sucked places on your skin.

"You are so tense. Relax. I will take care of you, baby." he muttered.

"It feels good..." you breathed out. You breathed in Cedric. He always smelled like parchment, honey, and warmth.

He slowly peppered more kisses to your jawline.

You felt you should tell him.

"Cedric." you managed to strangle out.

"Hm?" he made a noise to let you know he was listening.

"This is the first time."

He pulled back and looked at you, "You mean?"

You shook your head. He smiled and pulled you into a hug.

"Uh... okay."

"What?"

"It just wasn't the reaction I was expecting is all."

"What? Expected me to go 'What a loser.' ?"

"Kind of." he frowned at that as he went to kiss you again.

"I would never say that or even think that of you," he said before reaching to undo his bowtie. You started to undo the buttons on your shirt.

"Wait," he said. You stopped.

"What? Is someone coming?"

"No, I just... if this is your first time, we are not going to do it on a desk."

"Cedric- It's.."

"It's important to me."

You both decided to wait. Wait til after he won the tournament.

You weren't asked to observe but you were asked to aid. You didn't exactly know what they wanted but they gave you a potion and slowly you fell asleep. Before you took your trip to dreamland you heard 'They'll recuse th-' and you were out.

Cedric wondered where you were until they explained what the task was: Find a loved one in the lake. One problem he saw right away was that the lake was so huge. He remembered what the egg had said but he figured the 'something dear' would be an item or something besides a person.

He planned on using the bubblehead charm and when the signal was fired he jumped into the water. He slowly began to swim. The water was frigid and he was frozen in shock for a moment but he began swimming.

'Why in February?' he thought as he felt even colder as he swam downward. He pulled out his wand.

"Lumos" he mumbled. A light began to shine from the tip of his wand. He looked for the other champions but didn't see one but he heard a whoosh and a pop behind him. He looked down at the grassy forest and realized what was down there.

"Lumos Maxima!" he shouted, still muffled by the bubble. A huge blast of light illuminated the surrounding area. Grindylows hated light and he figured this would be the best way to stun and distract them. He kept swimming.

He thought about you and that's when he remembered something: You can't swim. He immediately picked up the pace.

He saw what appeared to be four floating figures and one free, swimming one. Harry Potter. Cedric swam to him and saw that the boy had grown gills! Gilly weed, of course! He nodded at Harry and looked to point a half transfigured Viktor. Cedric cut you loose and swiftly swam upwards.

You breathed in as soon as your head reached above the water.

"Oh shit! Holy Jesus, what the- Cedric? Why am I in the lake?" you spat, clinging to him.

"Shh, I got you. Calm down," he said as he swam towards the ladder. He lifted you to McGonagall and you grabbed her arm to pull yourself up.

You took a towel and wrapped yourself in it. You felt like half drownded cat as you hook your hair and head in the towel and then you remembered: Cedric. You turned and saw him climbing out of the lake.

You grabbed his towel and started lecturing him.

"Honestly! You could've froze to death! What in the world are you wearing? They make wetsuits!" you fussed at him as you dried his hair and whipped his face.

He began to chuckle, "Ok ok, Mom, chill! It wasn't that cold. Give me the towel, It is colder up here than down there." he said.

You handed him the towel and he smiled at you. He noticed your face was still a little wet and he gently patted it dry, "You worry so much."

You shook your head at him and just smiled.

You were wrapped up in two blankets and your head was wrapped in a warm towel. You already had a start of a head cold before they shoved you into the frigid lake. Bad sinuses ran in your family: A strong wind could give a near-death experience; Whining and overreactions also ran in your family. You could have sworn there were mini icebergs floating in the water.

You pulled one of your arms out of the blanket wads and reached for your tea. You had insisted that you didn't need to go to the infirmary but now it sounded pretty nice. You looked out the small window and cursed the climate.

A February snow.

You closed your eyes as you imagined yourself at the lake house your parents owned where the temperature was also a good fifteen degrees warmer than anywhere else.

Along with your terrible blight of physical sickness, you felt a little homesick; Your mother always took care of you when you were sick. She could have easily cured you with a potion but she said it would be better for your immune system if you fought off the illness naturally.

You raised up a little bit when you heard the door of the commons open. You sighed as you saw Cedric.

The man with a strong immune system who hadn't succumbed to your germs but he was pressing his luck. "Are you feeling any better?" he whispered into the mostly dark room.

He obviously couldn't see your blanket hive, towel, and shaking hands holding a cup of a nasty, healing tea.

"I'm Fine." your hoarse creeky voice huffed.

Even though you knew you weren't fine you still rolled your eyes when he sighed out.

"Obviously not."

You laid back on the sofa with a huff and a groan. He slowly walked around and sat on the arm of the sofa.

He smiled down at you. "You get grumpy when you are sick. Why aren't you in bed?"

"We all know the first years can't wash their damn hands and if I go up there like Sickie McGee, they will die." you mildly joked.

"They have yet to master the magic of soap but this cannot be comfy." He said.

You scoffed, "The arms aren't, idiot but the actual sitting part is quite nice."

"Still and wouldn't it make more sense for you to not be in the commons where everyone is well... comming if you are worried about the spread of whatever you have?"

He was right, "They are called Common rooms because the community is supposed to communicate in them. But you have a point," you looked at his face that dripped with accomplishment, "It isn't a big one but it's a point."

"Can you let me have one win? Pretty please?"

You rolled your eyes, "Nope."

He slammed his hand to his chest, "Oh! Right in the heart!" he fell to the carpeted ground.

You smiled softly. "If you wake them up, we're going to be in trouble." You smiled as he stood up and walked to sit on the sofa. He was really pushing it.

"Trouble? My middle name!"

You rolled your eyes, "No, it's Daryl. And how have you been getting away with all this sneaking out anyway?"

He raised his eyebrow, "Did Juliet ask Romeo all these questions?"

You stared at him, "Who?"

"It's a play written by a muggle poet, William Shakespeare. It's a story about two-star crossed lovers whose families hate each other. Romeo sneaks to see Juliet out on a balcony or something like that."

You closed your eyes as you sat your tea back down, "Well, I guess our balcony would be the windowsill. I don't think our families would hate each other."

"One day, we'll all get together and have breakfast."

You smiled as you laid your head back, "You wouldn't like my father, though."

"Why?"

"He said if I ever date anyone who can't cook, he'll die on the spot."

"I guess I better practice."

Roger Booker was smoking his cigarette, grey smoke lingering around him. Under his bushy black eyebrows, his icy blue eyes glanced from the clock to his book and back.

He swept his greying hair back and his free hand went to fix a hair on his mustache, twisting it to shape.

He looked at the pot of tea his son had made and reached to pour himself a cup but your voice stopped him.

“Dad! That’s for when Cedric gets here.” He had agreed to let you invite Cedric over on the winter holiday before you both were due to return before the Yule Ball. And he was slowly regretting it.

“When is he going to get ‘ere then?”

“Dad, most wizards have issues with our kind of money and he may be confused in a cab or something like that.”

Your Dad scoffed, “You’d think they’d have a class on it.” Despite Roger being magical, he didn’t call himself a wizard since he barely knew anything about it and had no formal magical education.

However, his wife, a talented witch, insisted in him learning some magic since their kids may be magical.

“We have muggle studies.”

Your Dad looked at you just as the door rang, you stood up and walked to it and smiled when you saw a familiar face. You invited him in and your Dad stood up to see if the boy was as interesting and amazing as you had made him out to be.

He was surprised to see just a teenager: Average height, brown eyes and brown hair with natural highlights. Just average and mildly underwhelming from how much you talked about Cedric.

He didn’t know what he was expecting but he wasn’t it.

He knew that witches and wizards didn’t always fly around on broomsticks and walk around in pointed hats and wild colored robes but he was wondering if this was actually the guy.

Still, he walked up to him and extended a hand to the boy, “Roger Booker.”

Cedric took his hand and shook it, “Cedric. Cedric Diggory.”

“This is good,” you thought, “He hasn’t star-“

“So, you are a wizard. Are you any good?”

Shit. You knew Cedric, he was going to try to impress your Dad and it was going to end terribly.

Just like you predicted, Cedric pulled out his wand but instead of firing off sparks, he simply went, “Lumos Maxima!” Making the room light up.

You looked at your Dad’s face, seeing very little change. You sighed, your Dad wasn’t trying to be mean, he just didn’t get it.

Cedric put out the light and looked at you, you smiled back. You all had walked to the lounge and sat down.

“So, Mr. Booker, what do you do?”

“I am a professional photographer. I take photos for events and special occasions.”

Suddenly an idea popped into Cedric’s head, he reached for his wallet, “Then I think you’ll like this.” He pulled out a photo of him and his family.

He handed it to your Dad and you watched as a pleasant soft smile formed on his face.

“I haven’t seen one of these in years. I took a lot of photos and we didn’t put up the moving ones because we often hosted parties and other people might… You know, ask a few questions.”

You grinned, “I vividly remember the parties.”

Your Dad laughed, “I remember you serving ‘drinks’”

“Drinks?” Cedric asked.

“He walked around with cups of chocolate milk. People, nit wanting to be rude, took them and drank from them. Turns out, the milk had gone bad. “

Cedric chuckled as you shook your head. “Well, in my defense, the milk was on the counter and it was easy to reach.”

“We all learned a valuable lesson that day.”After a few more embarrassing stories and happy memories, it was time to cook. You stood up and walked to the kitchen, leaving Cedric and your Dad to talk.

You brushed back your hair, washed your hands and put in your apron. For the first course, you were going to prepare a garden soup.

You grabbed a knife as you looked for the the yellow squash, zucchini, tomatoes and bell peppers. You reached for a large pot and set it in the stove, lighting it gas with a flick of your wand.

You walked to the pantry and pulled out some chicken stock, garlic, rosemary and thyme.

You swished your wand and watched as the knife slowly began to chop the vegetables.

You added the chopped garlic to the pot with a little butter to turn the garlic golden, you followed with the stock and aromatics. It was boiling when you added the vegetables and you turned it to a rolling simmer before putting on the lid.

You began preparing the sides for the main course: fondant potatoes and a mixed salad. You chopped the lettuce for the salad, you diced up some carrots and sliced some cucumbers.

You went to the fridge to grab some cheese to shred when you heard a loud thud and a shatter. You shut the door and ran to the living room.

You looked in horror when you saw it: your mother’s urn and ashes were on the ground. You looked at your Dad who looked as if he was about to explode with anger.

You pointed at the web with your wand, “Repairo.” The urn slowly came back together, your Dad opened it and pulled out his own wand, “Wingardium Leviosa.” The ashes began floating and he moved them to the urn and gently put them back.

“What happened?” You asked.

Your Dad was just hugging the urn so Cedric spoke. “The cat jumped up and she bumped the urn and it fell and I tried to catch it and I… I hit into the wall.” You walked to your Dad, who just turned and walked upstairs

You looked at Cedric with a sad but understanding look, “Thank you for trying to catch it. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Is he mad?”

“No. Just really sad. It hasn’t been easy for him. He… he misses her more than anything. He’ll sit down here and hold it when it gets really rough. He doesn’t handle change well.”

Cedric walked to you and took your hand. “I think it’s brave.”

“Him? Oh he really is.”

“No, you.”

You looked at him with confusion.

“Besides when you first told me about her, you never seem to grieve. Your Dad seems to do it a lot and you have every right to do it but you don’t.”

You sighed as you pulled him back to the kitchen, you shut the door. “It isn’t bravery. It’s just trying not to… lose myself in it.”

You were slowly starting to choke on tears you held back, “There are nights I cry so hard I can barely breathe and I give myself a headache. If I cried every time the urge and feeling hit me, I wouldn’t stop.”

Cedric pulled you into a hug and your tears began to fall. He held you tighter as the sniffles turned into sobs you muffled on his shoulder. He felt a few tears fall down his face as he silently listened to your sounds of pains and a few spoken words about fairness and how it hurt. After your breathing returned to normal with a few hitches, he let you go. You held a hand up to his face and wiped his tears, which made a few more fall from his beautiful brown eyes.

Suddenly the record player began to play, leaving the two of you confused, you turned to the door which you saw closing again. You smiled as you heard the song slowly fill the kitchen. Cedric and you decided to practice for the ball.

Roger Booker walked back upstairs, leaving his wife’s urn on the mantle. He walked to his room and grabbed a few picture frames including a small oval picture frame before walking back down stairs. He placed it beside the urn.

He watched for a minute as he saw the blonde woman smiling and laughing as she swung her son around in the garden. He watched as she swooped you back up into her arms.

He smiled as a tears dripped down his face and got caught in his mustache when the ran down the side of his nose.

He put up a wedding photo of her throwing the bouquet and him looping his arm around her waist, proceeding to spin her before kissing her.

He placed a picture of two little girls who were holding a baby on the wall beside a award he won for his photos.

He then put one final photo up. It was in the center of the mantle. You were seven and were forced to wear a bow tie.

Your older sister who was 12, was holding the cat and smiling with her braces shining and eyes glittering. The oldest who had just turned sixteen was standing beside your mother, looking like a spitting image of the older and taller woman.

The woman, your mother, the tallest, stood roughly in the middle. She was willowy and had a soft smile as her image turned to look at her husband.

Roger looked back at her before looking to the camera, he used to have chocolate brown hair and a full beard instead of just a mustache. He smiled as he evened up the photo, he took a few steps back and watched as the pictures of the wonders in his life moved.

He heard laughter coming from the kitchen as he walked back upstairs. Cedric was anything but average and he thought his son could do worse but it would be kind of hard to do better.

Cedric woke up because of a strong ray of winter sun. He rubbed his eyes before slowly opening them. He sat up with a light yawn and groan. He got up off his bed and he turned around to begin making it. As he straightened his pillow, he remembered something. He flung around and ran to his calendar, he then picked up a letter you had written.

Today was the day! You were going to come over this Thursday and on Monday you and him would side aparate with his Dad to Hogsmede and walk to Hogwarts.

Cedric ran to the bathroom to grab a shower and get ready. Due to his running, Amos looked up to make sure his son wasn’t about to fall through the floor or come down the stairs missing an arm. He sighed as he stirred his and his wife’s morning tea, she came to grab her cup before looking at him and grinning.

“Amos, do you remember what today is?”

He didn’t, “Well it isn’t our wedding anniversary. It isn’t February so it isn’t Valentine’s Day… No dear, I think I have forgotten.”

She huffed, “Today is the day we meet Cedric’s boyfriend!”

Amos sighed, “We’ll at least I was on the topic of love.”

She smiled and lightly laughed before walking to the window. “Do you think he’ll like us?”

“We’re great! The real question is if we will like him.” Amos said, lightly burning his tongue on the tea.

“Amos… This is serious! Cedric is absolutely crazy about him.” She said.

He sat down his cup and walked to her,“Carla, he’ll love us.”

Cedric had just got out of the shower and was looking at himself in the mirror, he ran a comb through his hair before drying and fluffing it out with his wand. He then brushed his teeth when he realized that you said you’d be there at ten.

He stuck his head out the door and yelled “Mum! What time is it?”

“Half past eight, sweetheart!”

He sighed in relief, spit out the foamed toothpaste, put on his bathrobe, and walked to his room where he right for his closet. He pulled on a pair of jeans and an off-white sweater, dug around, and found an old pair of brown boots. He got dressed and laced up his boots before walking downstairs. He looked at the clock to see only two minutes had passed.

He huffed, sad that it would still be a while til you arrived. Carla and Amos looked at each other, Amos sighed and Carla smiled. "Cedric, come to have a spot of breakfast, sweetheart," she said.

Cedric turned and walked into the kitchen. Amos looked at his son, whose sadness was on his face as he looked at the clock in the kitchen. "Ced, a watched pot never boils."

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