#Me: from—from scratch. Okay. Uh do you have a time estimate if that did occur?

[alatariel-galadriel]

*through increasingly gritted teeth* not my clowns not my circus not my clowns not my circus

Except it is my circus unfortunately and termites are eating through the tent poles

[tomshufflepuff]

This Whole Time

pairings: harry holland x reader

requested: yes

for the anon who requested an angsty harry imagine 😌

word count: 6.8k lmao I can’t write anything short

warnings: angst, language, heartbreak, fluff, puppy love if you like squint

note: i apologize in advance if there’s any mistakes oof i wrote this on my phone instead of a computer.

—

You were walking down the street and up to your best friend’s house, hot tears streaming down your face. Strangers passing by would’ve said you looked like a wailing teenage girl out of a romance comedy.

The one fucking time I wear non-waterproof makeup.

All of the cars were gone from the Holland residence’s driveway except for Sam and Harry’s shares car. That was a good thing.

Yes these people were like your second family, you grew up with them alongside Harry. But Harry and Tessa were the only ones who knew what to do when you were crying.

Tessa would sense your sadness and immediately pout and would lay by your feet, or she’d put her head in your lap and look up at you longingly.

Harry would hold you by cradling your head and bring the big spoon by cuddling. Or you’d sit on his lap with your arms around his neck as you cried into your arms and he would wrap his arms around your waist and put his head into your neck, as he would whisper into your neck, comforting you with whatever problem occurred.

Plus you felt weird looking like a popular girl out of a horror movie while Nikki or Dom opened the door to greet you.

You raised your hand, knocking on the door lightly as a sob wracked through your body.

The door swung right open to reveal your favorite boy.

He was dressed in grey joggers and a red hoodie with his hair messy and no gel in it.

That was your favorite look on him.

Once Harry saw your tears and makeup along with you hugging your own body, he pulled you into the house lightly and right away wrapped you in a hug while shutting the door.

Harry was taller than you so your head was pressed into his chest with your arms around his torso while his strong, comforting arms were wrapped around your waist as he put his head in your hair.

His scent was immediately filled with your vanilla shampoo as he took a deep breath.

She’s always been obsessed with vanilla.

Sam heard you crying and as much as he wanted to help, he knew all you needed was Harry right now and that’s all you wanted. Just for him to comfort you.

But you wouldn’t mind Tessa cuddles.

Sam smirked at the thought and opened the back door, the young Staffy running quickly into the house with loud thuds.

You didn’t notice it though. You were sobbing into Harry’s chest not seeing the dog until she got your attention.

She saw Harry holding you as sobs rocked throughout your body. Tessa made it her personal mission to turn your frown upside down.

She ran behind you, her tongue waving happily like she was a docking her head out of the window on a car ride.

You felt two paws meet your bottom and your eyes shot right open and you whipped around to see the playful pup.

“Tessa!” You exclaimed as you sat down on their floor, Tessa trying to jump on you and give your face lots of love with kisses, Harry sitting to your side Indian style.

The young Brit watched his two favorite girls happy with a wide grin on his face. Tessa with a wide smile and her ears perked up, you laughing at her reaction when you stopped petting her. She pouted and sat up straight each time, giving you puppy eyes until she saw your hand raise to resume petting her.

She immediately laid down on the ground, her back on the hard floor as she had her ears up and her two front paws folding and her back ones bending. You rolled your eyes, knowing what she wanted and started scratching her belly.

You turned to Harry to see him already staring at you interacting with his dog.

“What?” You questioned, one hand scratching Tessa’s tummy and the other behind her right ear.

“Nothing,” the younger twin shook his head and looked down at his lap.

He noticed you stopped crying a couple minutes into playing with Tessa.

You didn’t even realize it until you’d best friend looked down.

You stopped petting Tessa and she let out a whine and stood up, sitting flat on the wood with her head nuzzling underneath your hand on your knee.

Snapping out of your gaze, you were face to face with the young pup as you gave her a small smile and pat her head.

She got the message and slowly walked away to leave you to talk to Harry.

Tessa was one smart dog. You didn’t even know you wanted to talk to Harry about it until she walked away towards the family room, probably where Sam was.

You let out a sigh as tears begin to flood your vision again. Harry noticed right when you let out a whimper and he motioned his hand out for you to grab and he lifted you up, your arms going around his neck and legs wrapping around his firm torso. His hand went to underneath your bottom, folding together as you cling to him like a koala.

That made your heart feel just a bit better again.

Harry shut his room door closed with his foot, walking you over to his bed and carefully sitting against his headboard, not trying to hurt or move you in any way. His legs were straight out as yours we’re still around his waist as you cried into his neck once again.

Why did guys have to be such assholes.

What did you ever do to deserve such heartbreak like this?

“Wanna talk about it, love?” Your favorite voice whispered into your neck.

“Fuck. I don’t want to but I know I need to.” Harry nodded and you both pulled away, gazing at each other.

“Well I agree with that, but I don’t want to pressure you, Y/N. You can tell me whenever you know it’s right and when you are 100% okay with it.” He flashed her a toothy grin as he gently grabbed both of your hands, lacing their fingers together.

So strange, how your hands always fit so well with Harry’s. Not only did it cause butterflies to erupt in your stomach and your heart to flutter, but your hands just physically felt and fit together perfectly.

Jesus, I sound like the spawn of Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore if that story was written by Nicholas Sparks.

You flashed your best friend a wide smile while nodding your head. You were about to wipe your tears until he did so with his thumb. His smooth smoothed underneath your eye, letting his hand wonder and hold your face gently. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch.

“You’re just going to tell me, ‘I told you so’.” You muttered as you looked down, lacing your fingers of your free hand with his free hand.

“No I won’t. Maybe another time,” he joked, causing a breathy chuckle to escape your lips and he smiled. “I won’t. I’m here for you. Always.” He removed his hand from your face and you almost poured at the warmth leaving your skin, but then he took your free hand in his. You both were just holding both of your hands in one another’s, Harry rubbing both of his thumbs over the back of your hand.

“I’m uh-“ you muttered, snapping out of the intense moment with your best friend. “I’m just going to go to the bathroom really quick.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion but he nodded and slowly released your hands from his.

You shuffled off of his bed and quickly walked to one of the family’s bathrooms.

You shut the door with a shaky breath, your heart feeling like it was beating out of your chest.

And it wasn’t because of the asshole who asked you out.

It was because of the boy right across from you right now.

Your palms landed on either side of the white marvel sink counter. You didn’t know how to feel. Ecstatic? Proud? Overjoyed? Calm?

You were only feeling one half of those emotions as you tried to calm your breathing.

You looked up into the mirror as you tried to slow your breath,wishing earlier you wiped the makeup from your face. A warm feeling rushed to your cheeks, flustered Harry saw you like that.

He didn’t care one bit.

After three minutes of staring at your reflection and distracting your thoughts from Harry, being unsuccessfully you took Harry’s blue hand towel he set aside from you, and grabbed your makeup removed you kept at his home and wet the wash cloth.

That only took a couple minutes. Harry was sitting on his mattress, still dumbfounded of the moment you two just shared just five minutes ago. But he managed to snap out of it right before you opened the bathroom door and he grabbed his phone, trying to make it look like he didn’t just get emotionally bothered by what just happened.

The soft piddle paddle of your feet walking towards him always made him nervous. He didn’t know why.

Or he did, he just didn’t want to admit it out loud.

A force in the bed pushed his mattress down. He knew you were back, but didn’t want to see like he was feeling any different or acting strange towards you.

You say next to him and laid your head on his shoulder. He put his head on top of yours and turned a little, leaving a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“I think I’m ready now.”

Harry nodded and sat up, you doing the same but this time you grabbed his hands first for support.

“As you know, I was so excited to go out on a date with this guy from my trig class.” Harry’s heart clenched at hearing you happy about going out with another guy.

He wanted to be the only one who could take you out on dates and show you off to the public.

“I arrived at the restaurant about five minutes early. I thought that that was a good time estimate. Not seeming desperate but still looking interested showing up a little early.” Harry rolled his eyes playfully at you for trying to act differently than your usual self would.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me ,” you couldn’t help but chuckle and Harry smiled at you.

He would much rather see you smile than see you in pain.

Especially over some dick who didn’t know how truly great you are.

“And I was sitting at the booth we agreed we would meet at for, like ten minutes or something.” Harry wanted to pull his hands away from yours and punch something.

His knuckles would’ve turned a ghostly color if your hands weren’t in his.

“I kept on checking my phone probably, three times every minute to see if he would call or text. But nothing. He sent nothing. I would’ve thought he had some common courtesy and text me about being late but I was patient and sat there for another ten minutes.”

“Y/N-“

“Harry, please don’t interrupt me.” She paused and gazed at him softly. “I won’t be able to finish this anytime sooner if you do. I just needed to get it out.”

As much as the young Brit wanted to stand up and run his calloused hands through his brunette locks frustrated, as much as he wanted to track down the boy, that’s right boy, not man, who broke your heart, and beat him into a fucking pulp. He knew you needed him more.

So he gave you a light nod.

“He uh, he stood me up, Harry.”

The amber eyed boy had to stop himself before he jumped up and out of his bed.

“What?!” Your best friend exclaimed.

“It’s not that big of a deal-“

“Not that big of a deal?!” He fussed. If looks could kill, Harry would’ve been able to destroy the boy who left you hanging and insecure.

He had to stop himself when his eyes gazed to your locked hands. This time, you were running your thumbs over the back of his palms to calm him down. And his deep brown, dark chocolate eyes turned milky and softer.

“Harry- it’s fine.”

Your best friend let out a deep breath from his now chapped lips. “No, no it’s not. This guy is a dick. He couldn't have had common human decency to call or text you to say he wasn’t going to be there.” He got up from his bed and ran a ran through his dark locks. “What pisses me off the most is that-that he doesn’t see how great you truly are.”

You looked down at your lap, playing with your ring Harry gave you for Christmas.

“We should do something different this year for Christmas.”

“What exactly to you have in mind?”

You both were currently watching old Marvel movies, sitting offly close to one another on Harry’s bed. Not like that wasn’t normal for you and him though.

Although a certain someone was in the middle of you two.

Tessa looked up at you with her brown eyes.

Jesus even the dog in the Holland family has nice brown hues.

“I don’t know,” Harry paused, petting behind his dog’s right ear after you moved your hand away to check your phone.

A soft whine left the blue puppy in between you two and she nuzzled her head underneath your arm, wanting your affection instead of Harry’s.

This dog always brought a smile to your face and you landed a quick kiss on her head. That small action made her more excited as she started to get up and sit on her bottom, her body facing you and her back facing Harry.

“Tessa!” Harry whined.

The pup ignored him and jumped on her hind legs a little and waved her front legs out towards you, her tongue out happily as she waited for you to play with her.

“Awe,” You cooed, going to rub the puppy’s head and she snuggled into your chest, her legs on Harry.

“This is mean in more ways than one,” The boy grumbled. “Not only is my favorite girl ignoring me, but she’s ignoring me for my princess.”

Your eyes widen in shock as a red tint appeared on your cheeks, instantly feeling warm in your t-shirt, well it was Harry’s, and your sweatpants along with Tessa’ body heat al on you.

Harry didn’t notice though.

“Let’s do something those cheesy best friends do in the movies.” He turned to you with a wide grin on his young face.

You were hoping that the redness from your face was gone until,

“Are you okay? You look kind of hot, love.”

But you quickly fired back with a joke. “Wow, Holland. At least buy my dinner first before you flirt with me.”

The young Brit rolled his eyes as a light blush appeared on his cheeks. He thought about taking you on a date and kissing you in that exact moment and hoped that you didn’t notice the common tint on his face because of your comment.

You didn’t, much to his joy, but also his dismay.

“I’m talking about some corny shit,” he grumbled as he sat up, turning to you sitting on his knees while Tessa went over to him. “Oh, now you want to love me.” His arms crossed over his chest in a teasing manner as Tessa gave him her puppy dog eyes. “Tess, not fair you know I can’t say no when you give me that expression.” His arms uncrossed from his chest and he began petting her.

“What kind of corny shit?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Well one, I don’t know what you’re specifying for there are lots and lots of corny, shitty goods out there.” Your best friend rolled his eyes at your dramatizing. “And you should say it because again, don’t know what you’re going at.” Your arms cross over your chest in victory.

Harry didn’t know what to say. “Why didn’t you just say that normally the first time-”

“Because your face is funny right now. You’re making that stupid adorably flabbergasted look Ben Wyatt gives Leslie Knope.”

Harry rolls his eyes, a small smile on his face as he went to sit back on his bed.

Only that’s not what you had in mind.

“Tessa, love get off.” Harry spore like Gordon Ramsey with young chefs.

“Harry, I swear to god-”

The boy flopped onto his mattress, jumping a couple of inches off on the ground as he pushed himself towards your direction on his bed.

He landed softly and majestically.

You on the other hand, yelped and tumbled off of the bed, landing on your bum.

You supposed you shouldn’t be surprised at his reaction to want to mess around with you after your remark.

“Harry!” You squealed. “Did you just pull a goddamn Good Luck Charlie on me?”

“Yes, yes I did.” He nodded, even though you couldn’t see him. “We watch way too much TV.”

His best friend jumped up, startling him. You were holding your bum since it was a hard fall.

That’s gonna leave a bruise, thanks bestie.

“Speak for yourself,” a glare was thrown at him from your e/c hues. “Your brother is Spider-Man for fuck’s sake and you get to travel with him.”

“Oh yeah,” he nodded, his best friend taking her spot next to him as Tessa stared at them oddly before laying at the foot of the bed. “Guess I forgot about that.” The boy you admired sent a sheepish smile your way.

Your eyebrows scrunched together and your wet lips turned upside down, a frown playing its way onto your expression as you played along.

But you didn’t say anything back.

You pushed the fucker off of his bed.

A massive grin made its way on your soft face, beaming at the memory of the very corny interaction between you and your best friend before he mentioned you should both pick out bracelets for one another for the winter holiday.

Harry felt his face alleviate, forgetting about the boy, yes boy not a man, who stood you up and he admired your smooth expression on your stunning, zero makeup face.

There was a small glimmer in your e/c hues. The small string of Christmas lights that hung upon his navy blue wall was the only thing reflected in your eyes as you gazed at them with grace and serenity.

But right now, right now, the lights were staring at you.

The red and yellow shades seemed to shine just perfectly on the color of your eyes. Not the white, no the real, rich e/c color. The combined colors formed a sunrise hue to project on your face. Not even Harry’s talented photography skills could capture something this beautiful.

The blue light was radiating off of the soft waves in your hair, making it look like a distant body of water.

Harry swore he never saw something more exhilarating. Not the Great Wall he visited with his brother. Not the water and light show at Disneyland. Not the Eiffel Tower.

No this, you right there in that moment, was more gorgeous than all of those famous sites combined. And Harry had a front row seat, he felt like it was just for him.

But the he had to open his big mouth.

“Why are you so stupid? How are you so blind?”

The remark caused your head to tilt in a questionable look you gave your best friend, with a small puppy put covering your features.

“What do you mean?”

Of course you knew what he meant, how could you not? When it came to guys, you would wear your heart on your sleeves. You were too trustworthy and kind. A personality trait that is great but can also be damaging. In relationships, either a close friend, family member or a guy, you just wanted to see things work out. And if they didn’t, then end smoothly. But that was never the case, especially with boys you asked out and vice versa.

The boy standing in front of you would roll his eyes each time you excused a boy’s behavior. Whether is was showing up very late on a date, being snappy towards you, or not spending time with you. Harry hated how kind you were. To others, it made it seem like you would let people walk all over you, but that wasn’t near the case and the people closest to you knew that. You can stick up for yourself and say that’s enough, you are strong. Your heart just never wanted to give up on anyone you were having problems with. You always wanted to see and hope that whatever issue was happening, it would resolve.

Harry ran a hang through his hair angrily for what seemed like the tenth time in those few minutes. He was internally cursing himself. Right now was not the time for him to say that, especially how it came out so harshly. You both would joke around later on about how naïve you were later on, but right now wasn’t the time, you needed him. And he almost punched himself in the gut for letting the words escape too soon and so snappy.

“N-nothing, nothing Y/N, I’m-”

“No, Harry. What did you mean? You might as well finish your train of thought given how you’re already speeding down those tracks.” Your arms crossed over your chest as you got up quickly and glared at the young man.

“Forget it, love. Just-”

“Harry fucking say it.” You knew what he was going to say.

You dared him to.

“Say it, Harry. Go on, out with it.”

The Brit clenched his sharp jaw, making it look more fine than usual as he gritted his teeth together. It was so loud you could hear it.

Yep, he’s pissed and he’s about to blow.

“Fine, you want me to say it? I’ll say it.”

Harry stepped closer to you and threw his arms up frantically as he went on. “You’re so blind, Y/N! It makes me so upset each time you meet someone new because you’re just going to give them your all and they’re going to shut you out and hurt you because they’re a douche. You have no problems with you whatsoever yet you let your mind wander to sad places each time something like this goes South. You’ve been hurt so many times because you give everyone too many chances to fix their own messes they create. And most of the time, those people don’t even apologize or even realize that they hurt you! You deserve so much more than these horrible guys you chose to go out on dates with. Do you not see that? Do you not see how they don’t deserve you? Do you have your self standards so low that you think you should be with shitty people? Why can’t you see how blind and naïve you are? Not only as you’re dating someone, but even before a date and the guy shows the little interest he has for your time together? It’s upsetting, Y/N. You don’t even realize how much you hurt yourself until it all comes crashing down again. It breaks my heart to see you upset. But seeing you upset over an asshole pisses me off along with being sad because your tears aren’t worth them! And I just want to rip the dick off of every guy that has hurt you.”

He let out a long breath and looked at you but you looked down at the ground, a few tears escaping your hurting eyes and you let out a shaky breath.

“You might as well rip off your own penis then, you dick.”

“Y/N wait-” he tried to plead but you were already out of his bedroom door.

Your feet carried out down the steps of your second home, almost crashing into the other twin on the last step. But luckily, Sam caught your elbow with his right hand.

“Woah, woah. What’s wrong Y/N? Are you okay? Who did this? Who hurt you?” Now even though Harry was your best friend, you were still close with Sam. He was like a brother to you, older hence the helicopter sibling protection.

Warm water ran out of your eyes, black liquid not following afterwards this time and you shook your head, trying to get away from the older twin. “N-nothing, Sam. It’s nothing just-”

“Did Harry do this to you?” Sam asked, his arms holding you in place now and the mention of his brother’s name caused your neck to snap up and you almost got whiplash.

“Just- just please let me go, Sam. I need to be by myself right now.” Now Sam almost protested, but the boy knew when you needed to be alone and think. He could just tell after you spending so much time with him and his brother for years.

He hesitantly took his arms down from your figure and you sprinted out of the door, a certain claw thudding chasing after you. Tessa was met face to face with the door, missing you by a millisecond and landing on her tummy. She does that sometimes. The young Staffy runs so fast and when her nails are long, she falls and slides onto the hardwood floor.

Sam leaned down to pet his dog on her head, a sad pout adoring her face as the older Holland let out a breath and shook his head. “I don’t know, Tess. I don’t know.” The blue dog blinked widely up at one of her loving owners and laid down next to his feet, her head facing the door with a sad look in her brown orbs.

“Tess, wanna go see Harry?” The dog jumped from her spot and wagged her tail, slightly feeling better at the mention of her other owner’s name. “Come on girl, but don’t run.” Sam said and he walked up their stairs with Tessa trailing behind him. “We need to get your nails clipped again. We’ll do that after we talk to Harry, alright love?” Sam grinned as they reached the top floor. Tessa made a “psh” sound as she shook her head and ran into Harry’s room. Good thing there was carpet upstairs instead of hard floor.

Sam was so close to running in after his dog, to beat his brother into a pulp for making the girl e loves, much less his best friend, storm out of their home with tears rushing down her features.

That was, until he heard his twin crying.

Sam took long, quiet steps to his brother’s room, carefully trying to not make any noise. Harry was sat on his bed, his feet firmly on the floor with his head in his hands as Tessa kept on nudging his arm, wanting him to use her for comfort.

Soft cries escaped the younger boy’s lips, along with a hard sigh to which he removed his hands from holding his head and began too slowly pet Tessa’s head. The Stafford pup’s heart broke, you could justt see it in her eyes. That dog hated seeing anyone upset, especially someone she loves.

A small frown made its way onto her face as she stared up at Harry longingly, raising one of her front paws to rest next to his leg on his soft sheets, but everything felt rough to him in that moment. “Hi, Tess.” Harry croaked oout, a small grin on his face despite the tear stains.

“What the hell happened, mate?” He heard the voice of his twin as he walked into his room, standing in front in Harry firmly. Sam didn’t mean to be harsh and Harry knew that. But Harry also knew that you were upset over something Harry did and Sam sees you as a little sister, despite his actual blood sibling sitting in front of him. He truly felt like he was your older brother and he ran to Harry’s house to beat the kid up.

The broken brunette raised his head a little to meet his twin’s disapproving look. Harry shook his head and some brown locks of curls fell into his eyes but he didn’t bother to move it. He just looked down at his dog, occasionally closing his eyes and letting more water out.

“I fucked up, Sam. I fucked up real bad.” If Harry wasn’t his brother, Sam would’ve replied with a snarky comeback. But his brother was hurting, and he immediately felt mother instincts kick in. That’s how every Holland boy, even Dom, felt when they saw a family member or close friend upset. They just kick right into a Nikki, which Nikki of course loves. Her boys all have a heart, especially for family, and that would never change.

Sam took a seat on the edge of Harry's’ bed. “Mind telling me what happened?” He questioned, his voice softer this time.

“I, I- I just fucked up, Sam.” Harry never lifted his head, just kept it down and his eyes closed.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened. Knowing you, you probably never will,” Sam joked, making Harry let out a light chuckle. “But all I have to say is go to her, apologize and really fucking mean it.”

-

Your head was buied in your pillow, tears falling out of your eyes and onto your lavender pillowcase.

Confusion flooded your system. Why was Harry so mad? You knew he hated seeing you devastated and hurt, but it just felt like is frustration was mostly pointed at something else.

Your family wasn’t home, just you wallowing in your despair in your now dark bedroom.

You didn’t realize how late it was until there was no more light shining through your dark curtains.

Tears and whimpers have been escaping your body for over an hour now.

Harry stood in front of your front door. He would’ve came here sooner, but he knew you. You needed to cool down. Sam knew that too. You just had to be by yourself and let it all out. Harry didn’t want to come over too soon and make you more aggravated, so he gave it an hour, following the suggestion from his twin.

A heavy sigh escaped the hurt man’s lips. It was summertime, so he wouldn’t see his breath in the air from the cool weather, but he knew it would’ve looked like a giant smoke cloud.

His arm raised slightly, gently knocking on your maroon colored door.

You would’ve figured it was a solicitor but the small thump was too soft. The only person who did knock softly in time like this was the boy you grew up with.

The air around you began to fill thick and you almost yelled out to him from your room telling him to go home and that you would talk about it eventually just not right now while the wound is still fresh.

But the light thumps were began to get slightly louder and longer. You groaned as you threw your fluffy white comforter off of your body and dragged yourself up. Your heart felt like it fell out of your body and stayed in your sheets until you got up, knowing for sure that it was your best friend. And yes, it was the summertime but that didn’t stop you from using a huge coverer. Especially at night, when it was slightly around 18 degrees Celsius.

Your feet carried you across the soft carpet of your home, your feet ignoring the fuzzy material you loved as it lead you to the front door.

A hand found its own way onto the doorknob, taking a deep breath as you looked through the peep hole and saw the one person you didn’t want to see right now. And yes, that includes the guy who just stood you up.

You swung the door open slowly, Harry’s heart beating faster than your own as he saw the large door began to move. His brown eyes fell onto your figure, your body was slumped and your face covered in stains from your warm tears.

That broke his heart even more, seeing you look so hurt. And when you didn’t meet eye contact with him, when he didn’t get to see your captivating orbs when you spoke up, that’s when he knew he dug a deep hole.

You gulped, “What do you want, Harry?”

And your voice, your broken, shaky croak felt like a knife was being pushed into his soul.

“I, I wanted to apologize.” Harry stuttered, his arm going up to lightly bring his fingernails over his neck. Something he did when he was nervous.

“Harry- I can’t do this right now-”

“Y/N, please.” His thick accent slipping into a rickity quiver.

That made you look up.

His entire being was shattered right there on your doormat.

He said so in his deep brown eyes, that were right now aching instead of their normal brightness.

You didn’t say anything, just put half of your weight on your door, signaling for the boy to continue.

His fingers ran through his hair and he slightly pulled on his dark roots in aggravation. “I’m just, if I don’t apologize and say this now, I don’t know if I ever will be able to in the future.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he wanted to just bring you into a hug. Yes you looked adorable, but you were also in pain so he tried to not pay attention to your cute expression.

“I’m sorry, Y/n, I’m so fucking sorry for what I said-”

“Why did you even say that?” You spoke up, your voice not quivering as much this time because of the anger tone laced into it. “Why did you say those things? I know we usually talk about how dumb it was for me later on to go on a date with, whoever hurt me that time but that hurt like hell, Harry. I Appreciate you wanting to be there for me but-”

The boy in front of you sighed, running his hands through his hair again and looking around his surroundings in front of him. Just you, leaning on the door and your house behind you. Little things that yelled out you lived there. He did that for a few seconds before his frantic eyes met yours again.

“I was mad,”

“No shit,”

Another defeated sigh left his lips again. “No, I wasn’t just mad because of your choice in guys. But because of who’s standing in front of you.”

The moment he said that, your heart stopped. You always felt something different with Harry, knowing how you felt about him wasn’t how someone usually would feel about their best friend. But you always pushed those emotions to the side. You didn’t want to make things awkward between the two of you if he didn’t feel the same. You knew his heart didn’t beat for ou the way yours did for him. You knew his breath didn't catch in his throat when his eyes landed on you. You knew his captivating orbs didn’t light up when you were mentioned or when he saw you. You just knew these things.

No, you assumed that. But it was entirely the opposite.

“I was mad because I’m fucking in love with you, Y/N. I’ve been in love with you since I watched the first romantic comedy with you when we were seven. I saw how Adam Sandler looked at Drew Barrymore and I realized that’s how I’ve been looking at you. I didn’t know it then, we were so young and the only romance we knew of were stupid Disney fairy tales with no realistic feelings involved. My mom had to point it out to me actually. After you left my house that day, she told me that that’s how I looked at you. With so much admiration in my eyes, she said I looked at you like you were sensational. Like I’ve never seen something so, magnificent or marvelous in my young life.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach and you zoned out. You couldn't believe his words. He was infatuated with you? His heart stopped when you entered a room? A stupid sparkle appeared in his eyes when he looked at you? His face broke out into an immediate smile when your name was brought up? His legs turned into gelatin when his arms wrapped around you? His whole body felt like it was on fire every time you were close to him? It didn’t make sense.

A smooth hand gently grabbing your own snapped you out of your daydream along with a soft accent. “Y/N? Please say something. Anything. I know I hurt you and I’m so, so sorry. What I said was not okay in any way and it wasn’t funny. I was just so mad how you kept on going on dates with other guys and not noticing I was standing in front of you since we were both kids.”

You didn’t say anything. Your hand held his as you stepped closer to him, both of your hearts beating our of your chest as Harry’s face began to heat up. The delicate hand that wasn’t holding his gently went up to cup his face and he leaned down, both of your foreheads leaning on one other as his eyes closed softly, leaning into your touch and feeling butterflies erupt in his stomach along with his heart hugging yours.

Your e/c eyes fluttered closed and you could feel his eyelashes against your cheeks.

Your short breaths landed on his face, your breath warm and smelt of berries. The heartfelt boy in front of you felt like he was holding his breath, even though he was breathing normally. He was just overwhelmed with joy and he couldn’t tell if he was exhaling after he took that sharp breath when your hand grabbed his back.

“I’m in love with you too, Harry.” Your voice came out in a shaky whisper. But now it wasn’t a bad shaky like before when he knocked on your door.

Your best friend’s eyes opened, your doing the same at the same time. Your captivating orbs met his deep ones, both of you seeing the galaxy in each other.

Neither of you saw something more heart-stirringly astonishing.

The boy broke out in a grin, letting a tear slip down his face and your thumb swiped across the delicate skin underneath his eye, wiping the liquid away.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear those words come out of your mouth.” He said before he could stop himself.

Not like he was trying to hide it though. He needed to say it. It had to come out. It was time.

Before you could respond, Harry’s other hand gently cupped your face and his lips were on yours before you could even breath.

His lips molded with yours perfectly. It felt like two pieces of one puzzle that could never find their spot, finally meet together in the middle. His lips were soft and smooth, you would have laughed if this wasn’t occuring because the boy hated chapstick. Your lips were also smooth, but cold. You didn’t know why, you didn’t feel the coolness until his warmness mixed with your cold. But you didn't’ care, and neither did he.

He’s not a bad kisser, why didn’t I do this sooner?

Because you assumed he didn’t feel the same.

Oh honey, you couldn’t be more wrong.

Your favorite boy smiled against your lips, you doing the same and the kiss ended that way. Your right hand went around his beck to play with the little hairs there while your left gripped his shirt like you were going to fall to pieces and shatter like glass if you let go.

His right hand was holding your face gently, his left arm around your back and resting on your right hip. He wasn’t gripping hard or tight, but he felt like you would fade to dust if he let go.

“I’m so sorry again, love I-”

You rolled your eyes playfully and you were the one to silence him this time. And you did so the same way he did just moments before.

---------

This is so long wow I need to calm down lmao

Please leave me your thoughts in my inbox! Thank you for reading :)

Permanent tags: @smexylemony // @embrace-themagic // @petxrparks

Mutual tags @hollandroos @softiespidey

Until next time my loves <3

[pointy-kitty]

We Can Make It

A Wreck It Ralph Fanfiction from five years ago

Chapter Seven

Upon returning home and holing up in her basement once again, the rest of the day was nearly painful to stay awake for. She yawned, stumbled, grumbled, tripped, tumbled, and all around silently cursed Turbo for making her stay up all night. On any other day, being nocturnal would have been a breeze for her, but she desperately needed to finish a chore that she had been putting off. Her idea to construct an incinerator for her unwanted creations did not go unforgotten. Dealing with pyrotechnics, machinery, and potentially (literally) explosive artwork while deprived of sleep was not something she particularly thought safe.

However, rubbing her eyes, she shrugged. Making a decent incinerator in this state would just chalk up to be a bigger accomplishment, and any failures would be expected. Her expectations were low and yet she knew that she was going to beat them.

The task proved far more difficult than she had even anticipated. She began by literally painting a hole in the floor and following it down a fair ways, constructing a decently sized chamber that was just large enough for her to hop in. This part was easy enough for her, if confusing and time-consuming, dealing with dimensions and proportions and tricks of the eye. Manufacturing rows of fire spouts hot enough to incinerate anything she could imagine, though, stuck a wrench in her plans.  

After several bouts of singed eyebrows, patting out clothing fires, ash stains, fried hair, painful burns, and coughing fits later, she was just about ready to give up. It was a stupid idea in the first place, she told herself. But she would not let herself stop when there was one last shot to be made.  

Her final prototype was practically a geyser. She sat on the far end of the chamber, button in hand, finger trembling in anticipation of heat and pain. It was an absolute fact in her mind that no matter what safety precautions she took, she would end up losing a few hundred hairs anyway. Squeezing her eyes shut, flinching into the corner, she brought her finger down on the button.  

One might have sworn that a volcanic eruption occurred in that underground chamber. Every bit of air was choked out of the space by a vicious, hungry heat, and the very core of existence seemed to glow a molten gold. Make-It screeched and almost instantly found herself on her back, her code firing and her vision flashing, until she could not move anymore. She could not breathe. She barely felt like she could manage to exist.  

And yet, strangely enough, a tiny funeral drone played in her head, and on the last note, she was back on her feet.  

Her entire world was disturbingly balanced and sensation-free. The fire still raged angrily around her, but she did not feel any of it.

“What the cuss..?” She looked at her hands and found that they were flickering in and out of visibility, along with the rest of her body. She was blinking like a strobe light, and the time between each blink was quickly decreasing. How ominous.

She was instantly aware of when the blinking stopped, as she repeated her horrific death sequence just as it did. Her heart stopped, lay stagnant, then burst awake again and knocked her to her feet, sending her into another series of blinks.

Cursing loudly in panic, she darted for the hole that she had painted on her way down and clawed her way back up while she still sensed herself flickering. She just barely managed to make it out before fully returning to tangibility. Coughing, spluttering, panting, her heart hammering a stabbing pain against her ribs, she paused and rolled onto her back.

That was the first time that she had lost a life.  

As she watched her suite fill with billows of black smoke, she swore again as she realized that she left the power button in the chamber. She rolled onto her belly and pushed her face firmly into the floor. Slipping back in, she made bets with herself over how many more lives she would lose before finally getting this stupid idea turned off and destroyed.  

The result ended up being five.

Once the crisis was finally averted, once she had turned off the spouting flames and constructed a huge fan to blow the sharp smoke out of the in and out chutes, she found herself lying on her back and staring at the ceiling. It was remarkable, she thought, how often she ended up in that position after an experiment.

“Welp,” she breathed, “no incinerator.”

Her heart leapt so hard that she thought she might lose another life when she heard her cousin’s voice.

“Mavy? Are you okay down there? Why is there so much smoke…?”

“AAHHAAAHAHA,” she masked her scream as laughter. “NOTHING. JUST. UH, BARBECUE.”

She could practically hear his disbelieving expression. “Mavy, cuz, I know the smell of a good barbecue and that’s not it.”

“I’m a bad cook.”

“No you’re not, I know that. Just what could you be cooking that would make so much smoke, anyway? You’d have to be roasting yourself a whole herd of cattle.”

“Uhh,” she scratched at the floor, biting her lip. “No, I’m just roasting myself.”

“…Alright, Mavy, I’m coming down.”  

She did not bother lifting herself from the floor when he dropped down. This was how he usually found her, anyway. Upon stepping inside, he immediately coughed and screwed up his face, waving his hat around.  

“Oh my land, what happened down here? And tell me the truth, missy.”

“I incinerated myself, that’s what happened,” she moaned. “And I lost, like, a billion lives. I’ve never done that before.”

“Lost a billion lives? Well, neither have I.”

She shot him an exasperated look. “I’m not joking, cuz. I’ve never died before. I was just trying to build an incinerator–…”

“Incinerator!?” Felix looked as if he were punched in the gut. “Mavy, are you out of your mind?!”

Make-It flinched and tried to sink into the floor. Her cousin rarely raised his voice, but when he did, it scared the absolute excrement out of her.

He continued, “An incinerator in this small of a console? Mavy, that would choke us all out! It’d put a haze over the whole game and Litwak would think we were glitching. And then, cuz, we would be unplugged and lose our homes! An incinerator?! Why?!”

“Uh,” she raised her hand, “I—”

“No, no, Mavy, just tell me where this thing is. I need to fix the land around it right now, before anything else can produce more smoke.”

She pointed to the corner with her raised hand.

He peered over with concrete determination, his hammer in hand, and disappeared down the hole. Several musical dings echoed from within. Make-It rubbed her hand against her forehead, trying to estimate just how deep she was in proverbial dog droppings.  

Her cousin appeared after hardly a minute, having completely refilled the hole. Though she refused to look at him, she could see his stance out of the corner of her eye. He was erect, arms folded, tapping his shoe expectantly.

“Well, Mavy?”

“Who’s Mavy?”

“Mavy.”

She gulped. “See all this junk everywhere? The stuff that you can barely walk around my living space due to? Well… I needed to get rid of it, so I figured…”

“Oh my land…” he shook his head. “That’s what we have a dump for, cuz.”

She licked her lips. “I’m not welcome in the kingdom of Dump.”

“I’m sure Ralph doesn’t mind, Mavy. And don’t you worry about him, okay? I know it seems like he’s always woken up on the wrong side of the bed, but he won’t hurt you. That’s not what he’s there for.”

A frown tugged her lips down. “I just didn’t want to bother anybody…”

“Pardon me, Mavy… but isn’t that what you’re programmed to do?”

She flinched. He had sounded entirely sincere, not the slightest bit sarcastic or spiteful, but his words still left an exit wound. “Yeah,” she breathed. “Yeah, it is.”

He sighed, crouching next to her. “I’m sorry for raising my voice, Mavy. But that was far too close. You can’t just go and make something that’s going to affect the entire game like that. It’s irresponsible.”

“This is my mess,” she continued, trying very hard to keep her voice steady, “and my junk. I thought I was being responsible by taking care of it myself. I thought it was right. I know it wasn’t. I’m sorry.” She stood and kicked a torn canvas onto the out-chute platform, watching it disappear with the spring.

“Mavy, please,” he rose, approaching her. “Don’t be like this. It’s not your fault, you didn’t know.”

“You JUST said that it was irresponsible, didn’t you?” She snapped, whirling around, instantly feeling a dreadful acid in her belly when she saw his stricken face. “I tried, I really did.” She punted another hunk of junk onto the spring. “I know that I’m programmed to make a mess. Not to wreck things like Ralph, but to take something good and make it stupid. You know, that must be why they call me Make-It! The only thing I ever manage to do is MAKE a huge problem!”

“Mavy—”

“I know what my code is. I love my pranks and my ruckus and my fun. But what I’ve done lately has NOT been fun. Just—Augh!” She filled her arms with piles of junk and tossed them into the out-chute. A frenzy seemed to stir in her body as she stomped her way around the room, picking up any useless object she could reach and hurling it at the spring. Felix had to duck several times to avoid taking a face full of junk.

“I’m fun, I’m crafty, I’m clever, sure! That’s what it says on my package! Then you open me up and you find heaping mounds of reckless, rash, and IRRESPONSIBLE!” She spun and let a broken jet pack fly into the shaft. “And what’s this? The willpower that you were promised isn’t there! How can you possibly enjoy a little cuss of a tricky prankster without a fine helping of WILLPOWER!?”

Felix looked absolutely horrified and at a loss. He tried interrupting her, grabbing her, finding some way to slow her down, but nothing helped. “Please, Mavy, I didn’t mean it, what I said—”

“No, you’re right! I’m coded to be a burden. In fact, I think the game’s better off without me today. Speaking of which, isn’t the arcade still open?”  

Speak of the quarter and it shall appear. A booming voice echoed through the console, repeating “QUARTER ALERT.” Felix startled and panicked, pulling down on the sides of his hat and clenching his teeth. He managed to spill out, “BUT YOUR GARBAGE IS STILL IN FRONT OF—” before he completely disappeared, automatically relocated for the game start.  

Overcome with emotion, frustration, and a terribly shaken heart from dying several times, Make-It simply stepped into the out-chute and spiralled out into the open, landing on top of a heaping pile of garbage. She found herself staring down a lanky teenage boy, his face riddled with acne and confusion. Her brows lowered and she frowned. Her code screamed at her to proclaim her catchphrase, but she kept her lips wound tightly shut.  

Everyone in the console was staring at her. Ralph, behind her, was just about to tell everyone his intentions with the building. Felix was beaming a terrified smile at her from across the yard. The Nicelanders watched from their windows, looking like they barely even knew who she was.

She blinked. Painting a huge sack around her garbage, pulling the draw strings tightly closed, and tugging it over her shoulder, she began to slump off screen. She paused just before she was out of view, however, to shoot another spiteful glare at the player and give him a one-fingered salute.

A gargantuan hand seized her and tossed her completely out of view hardly a moment after her finger raised. Careening through the air, firmly clutching her bag as it swung haphazardly over her, she landed with a horrible crack on the top of the brick dump. An awful twitch, a pausing heart, and a springy hop later, she was missing yet another life and flashing.  

Ralph glared at her from beside the building. He sure did have a good throwing arm.

Practically growling, she roared back at them, “WORTH IT!” A speech bubble floated peacefully out in front of the screen, baring her declaration. Ralph practically shook with rage, watching her from the corner of his eye, very obviously directing his next words at her.

“I’M GONNA WRECK IT!”

Wasting no more time, he scaled the building immediately, punching away her speech bubble and shoving his fists through the bricks. The gamer looked dazed and void of any intelligent thought. After watching Ralph do his damage for a moment, though, he shrugged and played as if nothing had happened.  

What a simple creature.

Make-It was done hanging around in her own game. She did not want to spend another minute of the day around the consequences of her mistakes and hurt feelings. She would avoid it for as long as she could. Stroking her usual jets onto her feet, she fired herself into the train tunnel and clear through to Game Central Station.  

Just as she passed through her game’s gate, however, she felt a grid pass over her skin and heard the impossibly bored voice of the surge protector.  

“Name,” he deadpanned.  

At the speed she was going, slowing down for a security check was not something she really found appealing. Shaking her head, she zipped away and zoomed through the Turbo-Time gate.  

The shrieks of the fan NPCs could be heard halfway through the entrance tunnel. A groan rumbled in her throat as the sound grew louder and louder, finally nearly deafening as she rocketed through the open space of the practice track. Everyone’s attention was focused on the maze. Tall green hedges had sprouted from the previously barren stretch and swirling clouds of dust ripped out from between them.

She sighed. Watching Turbo race while she was not trying to mess him up sounded like a good time, but she did not want to risk the gamers getting a glimpse of her and causing even more of a wreck than she had made for herself. The trouble was hers. She did not want to spread it to her only semi-friend.  

With an uncharacteristically plain turn, she made a bee line for Turbo’s mansion, shoved his bedroom window open, and let herself topple in with the momentum as she killed the fire in her shoes. She rolled across his blankets, over the hood of the car-bed, across the floor, and flopped to a gentle stop as she ended up upside-down against the couch. Her feet bounced limply off the cushions as she observed the currently uninhabited room.  

Almost everything was as she left it. The table had been pushed up against the wall, the plates all clean and stacked. The Cuss Trophy sat prettily in its new home, not having had the time to even collect a speck of dust. Even the bed was consistent in its inconsistency. Just a massive nest within a ridiculous racing car bed.  

Make-It’s body ached and trembled as she righted herself and stood. Her blood felt unnaturally thick and difficult to pulse through her body. One shaky foot dropped forward, followed by another, and another, until finally she collapsed on the car bed and wormed her way into the mess of sheets. As much as all the linens smelled like a sweaty racer, she felt oddly safe balled up, completely hidden away from the great big world of mistakes waiting to happen.  

Lying still, alone, the memories of the day crept upon her. She almost ruined everyone’s lives with a stupid incinerator. Her own cousin had asked her if she was programmed to be a bother. She had made such a ruckus that was not even funny. It was just rude, childish, and uncalled for.  

And, of course, she could not forget how she had died nearly a dozen times.

There was no reason to be upset, she told herself. Everyone has a temper tantrum sometimes, and every game character goes through that first death…

Yet, despite herself, her sinuses began to tingle and her eyes to sting. Her lungs filled with a quick, vibrating, uncomfortable breath. She grasped at the blankets, absent-mindedly reaching out for someone, anyone. But no one was there, and no one offered any words of comfort. Only the obnoxious screams of the fans in the bleachers reached her.

As moisture began to spill over her eyes, she tried to convince herself that it was better this way. Better to cry alone so that no one could see her weakness. But her whole body shook with solitude, desperation, a horrid, deeply rooted pain that she was not ready to face on her own.  

Somewhere in the midst of her weeping, she fell into a dreamless sleep.

She became aware of her consciousness by the restless clanking of plates rattling. The lampshades rocked and squeaked tiredly. The bathroom door shook in its hinges. The entire room was pulsing with rippling sound.  

Make-It sniffed, groggily pushing the covers off her head, accidentally taking her hat with them. She drew in a deep breath and rubbed her face, the salt from her tears caked on her skin scratching uncomfortably. Unearthly loud music was muffled through the floorboards, but its sound waves carried just as strongly through everything they could reach. Her teeth practically chattered with the beat.

With a groan, she pulled the covers back over her head, spluttering and rolling when her hat landed on her face. Turbo must have been having that party that he thought so highly of. Yet another deep groan pushed its way through her chest when she remembered that she had told Turbo she was coming to said party. She was in no shape to be in that environment, mentally or physically. Being killed so many times had left her feeling a tiny bit feverish.  

She drew in a long, slow sigh. The last thing she wanted was to mess things up with a friend that she had only just made peace with. Being so low already, though, she somewhat doubted that anything she did could make her feel worse.  

Turbo would just have to wait. She would attend one of his parties when she was fully loaded and healthy. Anyway, she was doing him a favor by not showing up as such a wreck and bringing down the spirits.  

Pushing her face down into the plush of the mattress and clamping a pillow over her head, she managed to pick up where she had left off in her nap.

Her next awakening was not quite as gentle as her previous. The mattress bounced and her heart jumped up with it as a stinging breath nearly popped her lungs. Unintelligible grumbling and humming wafted around behind her as the whole bed was jostled.  

Fantastic. She had not woken up in time to get out of bed and collect herself for a suitable explanation as to why she never showed up at his party. Pressing her lips together and accepting her fate, she simply waited for him to notice that there was an unnaturally large lump in his covers.  

His humming, grumbling, and shuffling paused. She could definitely feel his eyes on her, and she was almost ashamed of how she found it hard not to chuckle. He must have done such an obvious double-take when he realized something was off.  

A finger poked her in the back. Then a hand rested on her arm, patted up and down, and pulled back.  

“What the actual cussing…” he breathed roughly, his lisp heavy. He must have been drinking.

She could sense him flinch away when she rolled over, and when she peeked her eyes out of the folds, she saw him leaning away, hand raised defensively, his yellow eyes wide and shining in the lamplight. He was not in his usual racing suit, but rather, a white wife-beater and red shorts. The alarm in his gaze instantly vanished when he realized it was her, and he lowered his hand to squint at her.

“Have you been hiding up here all night?”

“…Is it morning already?”

He sniffed. “Sort of. Can’t be long after midnight. But still,” he lifted the blanket on her head to get a better look at her, “what’re you doing?”

Her eyes fell and she did not answer.

“…Well, I thought you weren’t gonna show up. Kind of a let-down, toots. You missed one heck of a party.”  

She did not speak.

“…My memory might be a bit off since I’m fairly… decently… rather buzzed, but by now you’d have usually got at least a few smart remarks in and tried to piss me off somehow. You sick? Got a virus?” He pushed his fingers through his hair absent-mindedly. “Contagious?”

“Mm,” she shook her head. “I… messed up.”

“That’s a surprise,” he spluttered through his drunken lisp and yelped when Make-It punched him in the side.  

“I’m not joking around here,” she muttered flatly. “And don’t treat me like I’m born to be a screw-up!”

He blinked slowly. “…It was a joke, toots. I dunno, but you know, you’re the biggest joker I know…” He paused. “I just said ‘know’ too many times…”

Make-It’s mouth twitched. “You’re still funny as all Hell when you’re drunk. But… I’m sorry, I’m just really… not Turbo-tastic right now.”

“Well… that’s a tragedy,” he stared blankly into the room, genuinely stricken (probably partially due to the alcohol). “What could bring a little rocket cuss like you down?”

Swallowing, heaving a heavy sigh, she explained quickly, “I tried to build an incinerator and I killed myself, like, five times during its construction and I had never died before, I mean, how would I get killed just painting things? I-I just—Anyway, Felix found out and—and he said that I could have gotten us all unplugged, and he said—He said that – He didn’t mean it but – he said that I was programmed to be a b-bother and a nuisance–…” She held her breath, squeezing her eyes shut, trying desperately not to let herself cry again.  

Looking at Turbo was not something she wanted to do. Whatever expression he was making, whether it comforting or indifferent, would just stir her up even more. He was silent and still, though, listening.

“And… And a quarter was put in, but I was being such a baby and—I was getting so emotional and throwing a fit and I threw all my junk out into the open and—And the gamer saw me, and I messed up, and I – I flipped him off, the gamer…”

Turbo snorted.

Despite herself, Make-It choked out a laugh. “Well… yeah, that felt pretty good… But—But then Ralph grabbed me and threw me, and I… I lost another life… And I just couldn’t take it so I—I came here…” She gripped the sheets and took a long, unsteady breath. “I came here to run and hide from my responsibility because I’m a weak, selfish, useless, reckless, irresponsible waste of CODE!” She slammed her fist down against the mattress and it bounced back with surprising force. “Everything that I try to make just—Any time I try to do something right, something not a complete waste of time, I just… I just FAIL.”  

Her face plopped down against the sheets. A broken, defeated whisper squeaked out of her, “I had nowhere else to go…”

Turbo was completely silent for so long that Make-It might have thought he was not even there. Her breath hitched painfully and the dreaded tears returned as she curled into a tight ball, completely ashamed of being alive at all.

“Well,” Turbo finally spoke, and the bed shifted a bit as he stood, “it’s late, I’m drunk, and Hell if I’m putting in all the effort to kick you out.”  

Make-It cautiously raised her head to watch him crack his back and reach for the lamp, clicking the room into a soft and solemn darkness. He crossed to the table, taking up one of the glasses and stepping into the bathroom to fill it with water.  

“What are you doing..?”

He paused and managed a half-glance over his shoulder. “Aren’t you spending the night?”

“…Why would..?”

“You said you’ve got nowhere else to go. Maybe if I were sober and more in my right mind, I’d kick you out, because I’ll have you know that I don’t enjoy having my face used as a notepad.”

She smiled slightly. “I’m not really sorry for that…”

“I know.” He walked back to the bed, placed the water on the bedside table, and put his hands on his waist, looking at her and pursing his lips. “I hope you understand just how lucky you are, toots. That’s one magnificent bed, and not one I’d lend out so easily.”  

Her eyebrows raised and she sniffed. “You’re letting me use your bed for the night? The entire thing? …But you could easily fit seven people in here!”

“Didn’t I say you’re lucky? …Water’s there if you need it.” He grabbed one of his pillows and one of the many blankets, trekking over to the couch to flop himself down as a heap of puffy linens and scruffy hair.  

Make-It frowned. She never meant to kick him out of his bed, as sweet of a deal as it was. The bed really was something special. She could not remember any other piece of furniture being so comfortable. But it was Turbo’s, and it was not her place to deny him use of it.  

“No, Turbo, I’ll sleep on the couch,” she sat up, her head suddenly spinning. “It’s… It’s your bed, and I’m just a guest, and not even a welcome or pleasant one.”

“Don’t get up, toots. I don’t feel sober enough to get back up, myself.”

Exhaling softly, she leaned back against the head of the bed (which was really the spoiler of the car). “You don’t owe me any favors, you know. I’m doing YOU favors to pay you back for ME messing up. You’re just making this circle of favors that doesn’t make a sour lick of sense.”

His shoulders shrugged beneath his thick blanket and he rolled to face away from her. “Cuss logic.”

She blinked a few times, a grateful smile slowly creeping onto her face. Sliding back down with a comfortable, relaxing sigh, she called over to him, “Thanks, sourheart.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Another one of those immovable grins settled into her lips as she snuggled herself up in the blankets. Who would have thought that such a big, jerky screw up would have led to her making such a good friend? Her heart purred and rippled into a wonderfully pleasant warmth.

Just as her eyes began to droop, the sudden honk of a car horn scared the living daylights out of her and she cursed just as loudly as Turbo did across the room.  

“’The cuss was that!?”

He groaned. “My doorbell…”

“…DID YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT SO ANNOYING!?”

“I DON’T GET A LOT OF VISITORS!”

“Well,” she looked to the elevator, then to him, “are you going to answer it?”

He grimaced. “It could be one of the blue guys…”

“Do they often ring doorbells?”

“I’m not sure they know what a doorbell is.”

“Well, then!” She gestured to the elevator.

Turbo frowned harshly at the metallic doors, pausing for nearly a minute. “…No.” He flopped back down and pulled the blankets over his face. “Not tonight.”

Make-It blinked, peering around the room. She breathed steadily, trying to recover from the horrible shock that woke her.  

When she thought she had calmed down, the horn rang through the room again, prompting another chorus of swears from the two. Turbo flung the blanket off of himself and stomped over to the elevator, cussing all the way.  

“Should I come?” Make-It suggested.

“Ngh,” he flinched, glancing back at her. “No. Stay.” He pointed down with his finger purposefully.  

She shrugged. “Fine with me…”

His swearing could still be heard as he lowered down the elevator shaft.  

Make-It twiddled her thumbs. There was no way that she could sit back and relax wondering who was at the door. Shakily, she stood and wandered into the bathroom. The color scheme was not surprising at all, the tiles being red and any porcelain being stark white. It was a long room, much bigger than necessary for one person, and at the far end, there was a single window that overlooked the side of the building with the garage.  

“Why didn’t he just look through here…?” She shook her head, but promptly remembered that he was still drunk. Finding this an acceptable answer, she opened the window as quietly as she could and leaned out to take a look at the culprit. When she saw who it was, she nearly toppled out.

Felix was standing in the glow of the spotlights, holding his hat against his belly and rocking back on his heels and toes. He glanced around nervously, appearing almost impatient, and definitely tired.  

“Oh sweet mother midi, please don’t let him look up…” she breathed, leaning back just enough so that she could still see the exchange that was about to take place.  

Not two minutes later, the whining groan of the garage opening echoed through the otherwise silent console. Felix froze on the spot, watching the door lift and looking at the person inside. Make-It could practically hear Turbo’s scowl.  

“Good evening, sir,” Felix greeted him as politely as ever.

“It’s MORNING,” Turbo growled.

“…Is it morning already..?”

“Yes,” Turbo informed him flatly.

“I’m sorry,” Felix scuffed the concrete with his shoe. “I didn’t realize it had been that long. I was trying to knock for a while, but…” He cleared his throat. “I think you had some music playing and it drowned me out.”

There was the audible glare again.

“It sounded pretty groovy,” Felix nodded and grinned awkwardly, clearing his throat. “…It took me a little while to find that doorbell…”

“What do you want, Fix-It?”

“Oh, right, sorry about that. I’m looking for my cousin, Make-It Mavis… Have you met her?”

“…Briefly.”

“Oh, okay, good,” he nodded. “Have you… seen her around here today?”

“Is she lost?”

“No! Well, hmm, kind of..?” He sighed. “She got real upset and ran off into Game Central Station. When I came to look for her when the arcade closed, the surge protector told me that she flew in here…”

“Really,” Turbo sounded supremely unimpressed. “What do you need her for?”

Felix blinked. “She’s family, Turbo. I just need to know that she’s okay, and take her home to have a talk with her about what happened today.”

“Hmm,” Turbo hummed. “Well, I’ve seen her today. She’s fine. A little dopey but otherwise fine.”

“Oh, thank Heaven,” Felix grinned. “Is she inside? She really needs to come home.”

“Why?”

“…Well… she just does. As we all know, there’s no place like home. And after what happened today, well… She and I need to talk some more. And she needs to feel like she’s safe at home.”

Make-It winced a bit. He was talking about her like she was a toddler lost in a shopping mall. “I’m almost as old as you are, cuz, I can take care of myself,” she whispered through gritted teeth.

Turbo took a moment to reply. “She’s fine,” he informed him very matter-of-factly, “but she won’t be coming ‘home’ tonight.”

“Wh–… Is she sick?”

“She’s fine,” he repeated coldly.  

“Then…” Felix gestured with his hands, “…why isn’t she coming home tonight?”

“She needs a vacation.”

“…O-Okay… Is she inside, though? Could I, maybe, speak with her for a minute or two?”

Turbo paused. “No.”

Felix rocked on his heels, glancing around. “Uhh… was that… ‘no’ to her being there, or ‘no’ to me talking to her..?”

“No,” he repeated.  

Felix frowned. “Uh…”

“Look, Fix-It, you’re a good guy. Literally. But you’re paving yourself a road to Hell with bricks of good intentions. You mean well. But your methods are terrible.”

Her cousin froze, his face a mix of confusion and an indignant glare. “I beg your pardon?”

“You’re treating her too much like a lady. She’s not a lady,” the click of a button and the grating squeal of the garage door closing made his last words nearly impossible to hear, but she just barely managed to hear them. “She’s a person.”

Felix stood staring at the closed door for just about as long as Make-It stood frozen at the window, jaw agape. She was not entirely sure what had just happened, but her mind had gone completely blank, her insides practically turning to jelly.  

Her cousin put his hat back on, stood in thought for a moment, and then began his trek back over to the train station, a slow and contemplative tempo in his steps.  

The dull sigh of the elevator rising cracked a whip at Make-It’s heels and she hastily threw herself back into the bed, tangled herself up in the blankets, and made to look like she was just waking up to reach for her water. The doors slid open and a very tired, tipsy racer stepped out, practically tripping over the arm of the couch to face plant into the cushions. He moaned deeply.

“Who was it? Not the blue guys, I trust?”

Turbo waved her off, speaking a muffled couch-face language. “I took care of it.”

“Mm,” she nodded. “Okay. …Hey, Turbo?”

“Shut up and go to sleep,” he practically pleaded.

“Sourheart,” she muttered, casting a softly rueful smile in his direction. With a sigh, he turned his head from the cushions to peer at her with one eye.

Blinking slowly, twiddling her thumbs under the sheets, she tried to find some clever way of getting her point across. Her mind was still wiped clean, however, and each time she drew a blank, Turbo just looked even more tired.  

She cleared her throat. “Could you come here for a sec?”

His eye widened as if she had just asked him to walk the plank. “Oh, God, why are you making me stand up..?”

“Get your tipsy bits over here, mister.”

He put every ounce of energy he could muster into the heartiest groan that she had ever heard, and got to his feet, stumbling over to the side of the bed. He paused and stared at her expectantly, slouching more and more as her grin became more and more impish.  

His arms spread out slightly. “What?”

She held her hand out to him, hoping desperately that he would take the hint and that she would not have to elaborate. He watched her hand as if it were about to speak to him.  

“No, really, what?”

Her hand dropped with a sigh. “Come here.”

“I am here.”

“Oh, God,” she reached over to grab hold of his wrist and tug him down onto the mess of blankets. He yelped slightly, losing all reason to protest as soon as he felt the softness of his bed once again.  

“I just… I need some company tonight, okay? I don’t usually… Well, I never spend nights with anybody.”

Turbo blinked and managed to glance up at her. “…I can roll with this,” he shrugged, shifting around and curling himself around in the nest. He rolled and wiggled his shoulders back against a pillow, letting out a long, relieved sigh. “But can we please go to sleep now?”

She grinned. “Absolutely,” she purred, and wasted no time in draping herself over his side, pushing her nose up against his neck, locking her knee with his. He watched her, perplexed, but said nothing. Biting his lip slightly, his arm twitched awkwardly and wrapped itself over her shoulders. His fingers squeezed her arm the tiniest bit.

Smiling, trying not to laugh out of giddy happiness, she closed her eyes and let her head fall on his chest. An incredibly warm, fluttery sigh slipped through her lips. “Thanks, Turbo.”

His chest rose and fell slowly, and he mumbled something barely audible into her hat.  

Make-It could feel herself peacefully slipping into slumber. “Hm?”

“Thanks, Mavis.”

[galacticdefense]

Before our fall: part 3.

Summery: So I’ve been kicking around the idea of Pidge/Katie and Shiro knowing each other before Kerberos. Maybe more than knowing each other.

Set about two years after Shiro’s return to Earth we find our paladins fighting the Galra forces, making new allies, gaining new memories (recovering old ones), and finding family, even in the strangest of places.

Pairings: Shiro/Pidge, Lance/Keith (minor), Keith/Pidge (Brotp), will add more as they occur.

Words: 1,584

Part one, Part two.

Unbeata’d

Part three.

Shiro and Pidge sat in silence. The younger waited while the man got his thoughts together. She hoped that he was just going to ask about modifications on their lions or about the two missing Holts, but something told her that it wouldn’t be that simple. Nothing with Shiro ever really was.

“I- I need a second, if you don’t mind. I just need to… figure this out.” The black paladin said in a quiet voice, looking down at his mismatched hands.

“Oh course, Tak- Shiro. Take your time.” Pidge gave a sad smile.

She understood his process. Collect the info, categorize it, pick out whats most important, figure out how to make it in to a question. She had seen him do this so many times over the years of knowing him. For now she would try to collect her thoughts too.

“Hey Keith.” Lance sighed as he entered the common room. It had been a long day for him. Lance had been working on conflict management between some of the more prominent members of the Voltron alliance who just couldn’t seem to get along.

Keith looked up from the knife that he was sharpening to look at the other paladin as he flopped down on to the couch next to him.

“Bad day?”

“I’m not gonna lie; it was rough. It’s like none of them can remember that we’re just like seven people? There’s only so much that we can do. But hey, at least it’s better now.” Lance grinned taking one of Keith’s hands and intertwined their fingers.

“You’re so fuckin’ cheesy.” Keith smiled back at him.

“Would you have me any other way?” Lance laughed. “So what did you do today Mister short, dark and broody?”

Keith placed the knife that was in his other hand down on the floor. He then leaned into Lance’s side. They had been… together for a couple months now. Keith was never sure what to call what he and Lance were doing because they never mentioned it. It just sort of happened one day.

“Well, I did a couple laps around the castleship and then Pidge found me when she finished her work to spar.”

“Really? I would like to see that. A real match between the two of you.” Keith shrugged.

They sat there in silence a little longer enjoying each others company until Hunk poked his head in.

“Hey, either of you, uh, seen Pidge or Shiro? Allura’s calling us all to the main deck.”

The two paladins on the couch both raised an eyebrow and looked at each other, trying to see if the other knew what was going on.

“Nah Hunk, I haven’t seen Shiro all day, but Pidge should be in her room right now.” Keith stood pulling Lance up with him by their joined hands.

“Thanks dude. I’ll see you up there.” Hunk gave a little wave and then continued on his mission to find the others.

“So you have no clue as to what the Princess wants?” Keith looked over at his companion.

“None.” Lance responded with a shrug and the two made their way to the main deck.

Just thinking of all the things that he wanted to ask Pidge made Shiro’s head hurt. Why did he have to forget most of his life in the first place? It only made all of this harder. He wished, as he often did, that he had never forgotten. He knew there were terrors his brain was trying to protect him from but he would take them all on if he could understand the looks that he got from Pidge and his brother at times. He felt useless, and ashamed, and down right stupid. Like if his head wasn’t attached to his shoulders he would forget where he put it. 

“Katie, I-I really don’t know what I’ve forgotten from earth. But I think it might be coming back? What I need from you- what I want to ask you, is will you…” Shiro took a deep breath trying to steady himself. “Will you help me straighten out my facts?”

“Whatever you need Shiro, I’m here for you.” Pidge reached out and squeezed Shiro’s shoulder. ‘Good,’ She thought, ‘Keep this friendly. Don’t get too close, keep your distance.’

“Okay, I think I’m read-” Shiro was cut off by a knocking at Pidge’s door.

Pidge shot a look to Shiro seeing if it was alright to answer. The man gave a small nod in return.

“Come in.” The younger called out as she swiveled her chair to face the door.

“Hey Pidge, oh Shiro’s here too, perfect.” Hunk scratched the back of his neck as he took a step into the room. “Allura wants us all up top. She apparently has something to talk to us about?” 

“Alright buddy, we’ll make our way up now.” Shiro said as he pushed off the blankets and swung his legs out of the bed.

Pidge pushed her chair back over to her work table as Shiro go his boots back on.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.” Hunk shifted from foot to foot a bit of a guilty look on his face.

“Don’t worry Hunk, we were just talking. We can finish up later.” Shiro looked to Pidge for confirmation.

“Yeah dude we can always talk.” Pidge gave a small smile back.

“Okay good, because Allura said that she really needs to see us.” Hunk seemed to let go of the breath he was holding. Together they all went up to the main deck.

Allura nodded from her spot at the helm looking around and seeing her paladins in their respective spots.

“Alright everyone, I got some exciting news.” A smile crossed her face. “Coran, if you would please.”

“Of course princess.”

After hitting the correct controls on the ships main switch panel a star map filled the room.

“During the peace time before war broke out between Altea and the Galra, Altea had formed a truce with the neighboring planet of Clurswick,” The map zoomed in to a picture of the planet mentioned.

“This truce was sealed with a marriage between the first prince of Altea, and the princess of Clurswick. Even after the princess passed in childbirth the people of Clurswick continued their support for Altea. They even gave invaluable aid in the war.” Allura smiled over to Coran.

“They have recently sent us a message stating that they would very much like to keep the truce in place; even after all this time.”

The paladin all looked to each other. They would take help wherever they could get it, but this?

“It could very easily be a trap Princess.” Shiro said looking back to the hologram of Clurswick.

Allura sighed and shaked her head. “I understand that Shiro. That is why I called all of you here. I wanted to know how you all felt about this.”

“I could always send some I.R. units to check out what the situation is… maybe get a read on any Galra near by.” Pidge suggested while standing from her seat.

Lance nodded, putting his hand on his chin in thought. “I don’t see the harm in sending down a few I.R.s. If the Clursic get touchy about it we can explain the situation to them after.”

“Here Pidge, I’ll help you get the monitors ready.”  Hunk offered as he followed the shorter paladin out of the room.

“Alright, everyone is dismissed. Let’s try to get the ship ready for the worst.” Allura commanded as she looked out of the windows at the deep space just beyond.

“You heard the Princess, let’s get going, Lance, Keith, Shiro. We have a lot of work to get done!” Coran exclaimed as he lead the remaining paladin toward the tasks that needed to be completed.

“Pidge, I don’t think that the I.R. units feed can make it that far with out a redirection station…  I think that we’ll probably have to send out at least two C.R. units.” Hunk said from his side of their shared lab space. Pidge looked up from the computer she was putting commands into to nod at Hunk.

“Sounds good to me, just tell me the number of the Invisible Rover and Communication Rover units that you do send out.”

Over the past couple of years, since the first Rover Unit, Pidge had been building and programming new generations of the small security bot. She had basically formed a small army of Invisible Rover (I.R.), Communication Rover (C.R.), Defense Rover (D.R.), and Offense Rover (O.R.) units. All of them serving their own purpose. The team even owed a couple of the Rovers their lives. Hunk walked over to the door and lent down to the speaker system next to it.

“Deploying I.R. units 1,3,5,6,9,and 13. Deploying C.R. units 4, and 7. All feeds are being sent to lounge, laboratory, and  cockpit. Estimated arrival time-” Hunk looked down at the watch on his wrist,”tomorrow at 18:00 hours. Rest up everybody.”

“Thanks Hunk! I’m just gonna finish up calculating the trajectory then get outta here.” Pidge called over to her partner.

“Alright, just don’t work too hard. You wanted to finish your talk with Shiro right?” Hunk looked over with a wink and wagged his eyebrows at the girl.

“It’s really not like that dude.” Pidge sighed, leaning back in her chair pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Yeah, yeah, what ever you say. Just don’t stay up too late.” Hunk laughed as he left through the sliding door.

“It’s really not like that…” Pidge quietly said to no one but herself.

AN: Hey guys, I am so fuckin’ sorry. Like I went away for a week got back and like just kinda???? screwed me up. So here is the next chapter… a month late. And if you couldn’t tell this is me trying to put in more plot because I have all these scenes I wanna write but I need to build up to them first. Also, did you fucking see my boy, Matthew Holt? I love that man. I also had some plans for him that work really well with the photo released? Really happy about that.