#I have started watching NANA when I was in middle school and it still breaks my heart

[nana-and-ren707]

“I just want to stay with you...” 

[ramayantika]

Desi Middle Class ✨Aesthetic✨

Kiraya ka ghar, chai ki tapri, buying new clothes twice or at max thrice a year during festive occasions, steel ka dabba, bigger uniform size to make sure you keep fitting into it for at least two years, feeling proud to own a Trimax pen, dada dadi or nana nani's tel malish, visiting temple towns for vacations, train journeys with lots of chips packed to munch on and mummy ke parathe or puri bhaji, having to wait patiently for your turn to use the bathroom unless and until you have two bathrooms and both of them are equally functional, never been on a flight or have been only once by luck, noticing that your dad rarely buys new shirts for himself, lingering looks on that beautiful but expensive dress, your mother touches that one lovely saree for the last time and you promise to yourself that when you start earning, you will gift her every saree she will land her gaze upon, covering rough notebooks with newspapers, start studying maths for the new school year during summer vacation, sharing a room and sometimes the same study table with your siblings, beaming at your bade bhaiya or didi when they show you how to make a paper boat/paper airplane, you are growing up and for the first time you see your older sibling break down in their room all by themselves and realization dawns that even they need a comforting hug, Tu kab badi huyi?, Wanting to gift a good car to your father with your own salary, the entire family dreams to own their own house someday, the first time you realize what a middle class family really is, fights and quarrels that always end with silent apologies over the dining table, beta doctor ya engineer? Kya matlab arts lena hai? Humare family se just pass hone vale bhi science liye? You wipe your own tears and strengthen your resolve to fight for your own dreams, parents are proud that you proved them wrong with your career and subject choice, sadly dropping out of dance, music, arts and sports classes as soon as you begin 10th grade -- lucky ones still continue them, watching Indian tv serials with mummy during afternoons after coming back from school, thoda toh pocket money badha do?? Storing money everywhere in the house, counting coins as a child and thinking yourself to be very rich, chota ghar magar sapne bade yeh hai middle class parivar ki kahani

I was watching Wagle ki duniya and later mummy and I were talking about our lifestyle after which she played a Sudha Murthy video where she was talking about the middle class lifestyle, and then I made this post by reflecting on some of my own experiences. I know that the above post doesn't still complete the middle class life there are so many things remaining but I tried my best to summarise from my own observation and experiences.

I have lived a small part of my life with the more economically advantaged groups too (samridhi just say rich) and I am seeing and have also seen the other side too that isn't as gleaming as I used to think but nevertheless it's colourful, so I wanted to write something on it as a lesson I learnt in these 3 years and for the lesson which will live with me for my future endeavours. Probably this post will also be a sahara sort of thing when I again spiral down some crying lane over my exams.

I have so many stories from my 11th 12th and drop year timeline that I will soon share because as I always believe in the end being good no matter what, be it whatever college I get in or whatever I do, this experience taught me things that no school classroom could do. I may sound like a dadi now but yes maybe in the upcoming time if some of you younger lot do stumble on this in times that seem dark and full of certainty, I hope those stories will bring hope in your hearts

Bas bhai yeh dadimaa kirdar ab kuch samay paschat

[klonoadreams]

You talk about nanas family a lot but what are they like? Do any of then have names yet?

Sorry for the late response, I was giving these guys names!!

First off is Mochizuki Iruma - Papa.

He loves his children and works super hard to make them happy. Met his wife while he was studying overseas. They hit it off rather well, and decided to get married as they neared graduation.

He was raised by his grandparents, since his parents wanted nothing to do with him. While his grandparents were supportive of his marriage, his parents chose to cut off all contact with him.

He's the reason for Nana's sharp teeth and white hair.

Next is Mochizuki Erika - Mama

She aged out of the foster system and was able to even go to a university through a full-ride scholarship. Hit it off rather well with Iruma, especially since English wasn't his first language (it wasn't hers either, so she knows the difficulty of getting the hang of stuff), so she often helped him out.

Very friendly and outgoing. She's the reason for Nana's black hair and yellow eyes, as well as brown skin.

Here are the kids, starting from oldest to youngest.

Mamoru - oldest son and brother

He's a tall boy - even taller than both Mama and Papa. Very protective of his family, especially his younger siblings. Can come off as intimidating, but he's actually pretty sweet.

Has broken his hand from punching out the assholes who were bullying Nana for her eyepatch, shortly after she lost her eye.

Got Papa's white hair, and Mama's yellow eyes and brown skin. He's effectively like a tall and masculine Yuu (ewe).

Maria - oldest daughter and sister

Very calm and gentle. A lovely girl that's rather popular with the boys. Very diligent and helped Mama raise her younger siblings - though out of her own choice. Because Mama told her she didn't have to help, but Maria decided she wanted to anyways.

A responsible girl that didn't mind cleaning up after Nana's messes. Got Mama's dark hair and while she isn't as dark-skinned as her mother, she's still noticeably brown compared to her Papa.

Hifumi and Naomi - twin brothers, Hifumi is the older one and Naomi is the younger one. They're the third and fourth oldest son and brother.

Chaotic twins, they're energetic and chatty. Hifumi is very sunny, while Naomi can be stoic at times. Easy to tell them apart due to their heterochromia and the way their hair is parted (think Floyd and Jade from Twisted Wonderland)

Yuugo - fifth oldest son and brother

Rather withdrawn and anxious, but goes into momfriend overdrive when it comes to his younger sisters. Usually introverted, but is always up for family outings. He's at his happiest when he's at home, but also when he's around his family. Can be mischievous at times, so watch out.

Always eats anything that Nana leaves on her plate, saying it's his favorite, when it's not.

Tamaki - second oldest daughter and sister

Loves fashion and cute stuff. She's only a year older than Nana, so she always does her best to spend as much time as she can while they're still attending the same school. As a result, you can often see them together during breaks and lunchtime.

She is very perceptive of Nana, and knows when not to say anything. Is the reason why everyone else in the family knows that Nana was being bullied. Burned quite a lot of bridges once she entered high school, because Nana's bullying got rather severe after she graduated from middle school and left her behind.

And of course, Nana is the youngest. She is very loved and cherished. Even if others are afraid of her due to her rancid vibes and gloomy disposition.

Anyways that's all of them. :V

[adventures-in-a-world-of-fiction]

The Leverage/Stargate fic I’ll probably never write

I have an idea for a Leverage/Stargate crossover fic but no drive to actually write it. So I’m going to lay down the plot summary of the story that exists in my head. If anyone wants to take some or all of this idea and flesh it out into a full story, you’re welcome to it.

AU!Eliot Spencer went to work for Stargate Command early on in its existence and has been there ever since. He's extremely good at his job but in a ruthless way that has everyone at best wary of him and at worst terrified. He's the guy you send on the most dangerous missions, but he's also the guy you send when you want something awful doing without any questions asked.

The Goa'uld have put a bomb in a child and killing the child is the only way to stop it going off and killing thousands? Eliot Spencer is your guy. The megadeathray gun is surrounded by slaves as human shields? Eliot Spencer is the guy who will blow it up while everyone else is busy arguing about whether there's a better way. Need someone to headshot a Goa'uld and not care about the innocent host? He's the guy who will pull the lever on your trolley problem while everyone else is still arguing the ethical ramifications.

They keep him around because he is really good at his job but also because everything he does is technically for the greater good and you can see the logic in shooting the guy with the alien virus before he can spread it and cause a plague but still, you'd think the guy would show a little remorse about shooting an innocent person in the head. So he doesn't really have friends in the SGC just reluctant allies, but he's doing good and saving the world in his own, violent way.

But then one of the science teams discover something that's giving off the same sort of energy readings as the quantum mirror and Eliot is there to act as bodyguard/escort to the scientists. They bring the shiny, aliens toys back through the Gate but then something gets activated by accident, zapping Eliot, and then suddenly canon!Eliot is there in the base, with an apron and a wooden spoon because he was in the middle of cooking dinner.

Naturally, he's immediately on the offensive because he's apparently been kidnapped and these people are all in military uniform, so he starts fighting and takes down six marines with a wooden spoon but then AU!Eliot is there fighting him and they're evenly matched. Neither can get an upper hand and they only stop when someone shoots them both with a zat while they're locked in combat and knocks them out.

Eliot wakes up heavily restrained and they try to explain that they think he's been pulled from a parallel universe and of course Eliot doesn't believe a word of it because it sounds like something from one of Hardison's weird TV shows, and the guy who looked like him was clearly a trick. He's scared that the other Eliot is part of some plot to get to his team and so of course he's not going to give them any sort of cooperation. Everyone else is scared of him because they know how scary their Eliot Spencer is and they don't want to get on the wrong side of him, but they need to get one of the techs to try and undo what was done, so they get one of the team to bring in the alien gizmo - and it's Hardison.

The Hardison of this world was still a computer genius and got recruited to get alien and human tech to work together. He doesn't really know Eliot because the techs tend to spend most of their time with other techs generally, but also that guy's scary. He really doesn't want to be in the same room as two of them, glaring at each other, because if their Eliot Spencer is the good version, he really doesn't want to know what the evil mirror universe Eliot Spencer is like. But he drew the short straw so he's got to come in and try to get some tech they barely understand to zap this guy back to where he came from.

Canon!Eliot recognises Hardison at once but thinks that he's here as part of a con as a rescue mission, so he pretends to have no idea who he is, but plays along. When Hardison starts explaining about parallel universes and alternate timelines and quantum mirrors, Eliot listens and pretends he might start to believe this technobabble and asks questions like he's starting to be convinced. The first test to send Eliot back to his universe doesn't work but he agrees to cooperate if Hardison keeps working to send him home, because he needs to get out of these restraints anyway if Hardison's rescue plan is to have any chance of succeeding. And the other people who are around standing guard or watching the events unfold are surprised that Eliot would believe Hardison over an alternate universe version of himself.

"Of course I don't trust me. I know me!"

But AU!Eliot knows him too and thinks that he's been convinced too easily and that this is a trick. He knows he would never be so quick to believe a total stranger and thinks that Eliot is just lying to get out of the restraints and then he'll start fighting everyone again, probably taking that tech as a hostage.

But while all this is going on, people are referring to Hardison by his real name and talking to him like he's been here for years, and canon!Eliot starts getting weirded out because Hardison would never use his real name in a con and he has a very distinctive tell when he's playing a part and he's not showing that tell now.

AU!Eliot wouldn't just announce that he doesn't think this guy is telling the truth so he beckons whatever senior officer is present over to the far corner so that they can talk quietly but he can still keep an eye on canon!Eliot and warns him about what he thinks the guy is planning. Meanwhile, Hardison is still running tests on canon!Eliot with the alien tech and now no one is close enough to overhear, so Eliot lets his hair hang in front of his face to shield his mouth from the security cameras and whispers, "Is Parker okay?"

Hardison just goes, "Who's Parker?" in a voice loud enough that everyone in the room can hear it.

"Damn it, Hardison!"

The senior office asks Hardison what happened and he repeats back exactly what Eliot said to him. That's what convinces Eliot that this is real because he knows that Hardison would never do anything to expose Parker and he wouldn't blurt something like that out in the middle of a con after all the years they've been doing this.

"You're not my Hardison, are you?"

"Your Hardison?!"

And Eliot tries to then convince them that he now believes them, even though they're more suspicious than ever because he was pretending to believe them before. Eliot just looks at Hardison and says, "I swear on your Nana's chicken, chilli caserole recipe that I won't hurt you if you let me out of these restraints."

Everyone else is really confused but Hardison is astonished because Nana's chicken chilli caserole recipe is sacred. It's a family secret, but she will only give the recipe to family members she deems worthy, meaning that only one of her foster kids has ever been told it and Hardison (who consists off gummy frogs and orange soda in every universe) has never so much glimpsed the page it's written on. It's a meal that is served on the specialest of special occasions and Nana would guard that recipe with her life.

"You know Nana's recipe?"

"I proved myself worthy at your engagement party. She gave me the recipe for the wedding."

"I'm married in your universe?!"

"Not legally." Because three-way unions aren't legal and besides, the guy they had officiate their wedding dropped out of priest school to become an insurance agent con artist, so it's not exactly official, but that's never stopped them. Hardison is still confused but thinks that maybe it wasn't legal because of gay marriage rules and this means he had an unofficial commitment ceremony to Eliot Spencer. He has to sit down while he processes this.

After some discussion, they let Eliot out of the restraints and he spends a little bit of time in the SGC while Hardison works on the tech. He talks to the alternate version of himself and suggests he take a cooking class and tells him he should get to know Hardison better because, "Once you get past the annoying surface part that makes you want to murder him, he's one of the smartest, bravest, and best people you could ever hope to meet, and half the irritating stuff he does is just to make you smile."

"And the other half?"

"He's just being irritating," but Eliot says this with a soft, caring smile that AU!Eliot hasn't seen in his reflection in a very long time and that makes him think it's worth giving it a shot.

And Eliot talks to Hardison too, telling him that he has absolute trust in his ability to work out all this alien tech stuff and get him home safely because he has people there who need him because he doesn't trust Hardison to feed himself any with more nutritional value than gummy frogs without him there to take care of him. And he convinces Hardison to take a chance on this universe's Eliot because if anyone can get past his defences, it's him. Or Parker, but she doesn't seem to be around in this universe.

And that seems like the perfect moment for Parker to appear out of a vent because she wanted to give herself a challenge breaking into a facility with more security than any museum and she's been listening in on all of this stuff as it unfolds.

So this universe's Hardison and Eliot convince the SGC guards not to shoot Parker because she has a really useful skillset, and canon!Eliot wishes them luck as he gets sent bak to his own world, where his Parker and Hardison are in the middle of tearing the criminal underworld into a million pieces to find out what happened to him.

[soren-bleu-kun]

Fic Wrap Up.

*feel free to ignore this if I tagged you 

This is going to be my own fic wrap up, my first one ever because this was the birth of my Ao3 account, so all of my fics are from this year. I’ll try to keep things concise, but it’ll still be pretty long. I will do this in the form of a Read More after the first few fics. There are over 90, I’ll try to go alphabetically. 

All of them are from the same fandom, BnHA, so that’s nice. More gen fics, less romance. Most of them are for series, events, other people’s aus - and I’ll make sure to share all of that when I share each fic, especially because some of the events are probably repeats and this is a little bit like free marketing [only tagging them once because that would get obnoxious, especially for the weekly event things I did]. Other than that, I hope you all enjoy and may 2021 suck slightly less. 

Heads up for angst, whump, some ships, and manga spoilers 

A Breathing Silence - Gen, 3K. Shirakumo survives his internship, but at the price of his hearing. His friends do their best to help him through it [for @badthingshappenbingo] 

A Common Room Conversation - Gen, 2K. Midoriya realizes that he has some questions for his mentor during winter break. [for @tunafishprincess’ Dads For Deku Week that I still need to finish, whoops] 

A Confession and A Dance - TodoDeku, 4K. Midoriya and Todoroki just going to the school dance as friends doesn’t last very long 

After Hours - ShinDeku, 1K. Model Shinsou goes on his first date with a photographer he works with sometimes, and worries that he’s going to be horrifically awkward about it [for OTPtober run by DigitalPopsicle, AU by. @amandasmurfee] 

Amend - EraserMight, 1.5K. Yagi and Aizawa have been arguing for the last few days. Aizawa finds himself forgiving his partner in order to help him. [for @erasermight-week] 

Bedside Manner - EraserMight, 2K. Yagi ends up in the hospital and hopes for better days [for @/erasermight-week] 

Bravery Test - DustBunny, 2K. Though the two aren’t together in this one, this fic features hero student Tenko Shimura having a crush on his much cooler classmate, Rumi Usagiyama. [for DustBunny Week on Twitter] 

Broken Glass - [FAN FAVORITE] Gen, 1K. A young Keigo Takami finds himself wandering the streets of Musutafu in this fic where he seems to have glitched through time [for @/hawksweek2020] 

Can’t Say No - CloudMic, 2K. Despite the fact that Yamada hates the beach, he can’t help but agree to go when his crush asks him [for CloudMic Week on Twitter] 

Caramel Coffee & Phone Numbers - [FAN FAVORITE] ShinDeku, 1K. This fic features an AU where instead of going to UA at all, Shinsou ends up as a barista [for @shindekumonth] 

Codependence - EraserMic, 1K. Yamada realizes that he feels unfulfilled in his relationship but doesn’t know how to leave. [for @whumptober2020] 

Concerns and Collapse - Gen, 1K. Yagi is ignoring his health because of his hubris and it doesn’t end well [for @/badthingshappenbingo] 

Chronic - [FAN FAVORITE] ShinDeku, 1.5K. Midoriya is ignoring his pain because he has homework to do. Shinsou is having none of it [for @/whumptober2020] 

Date Night - ShinDeku, 1K. As pro heroes, they don’t get a lot of time to spend together. Might as well do what they can [for @/shindekumonth] 

Disguises - Gen, 1K. In an AU where Tokoyami does end up being taken alongside Bakugou, Todoroki feels responsible for getting him back 

Foggy Recollection - Gen, 2K. In a world where Shirakumo lives but Aizawa ends up dying at USJ, he and Yamada are just trying to pick up the pieces [for CloudMic Week on Twitter] 

Forgotten Birthday - Gen, 1K. When Sero breaks his record of perfect attendance with no explanation, Aizawa goes to figure out if something is wrong [for @dadzawa-week-2020] 

For the Morning - [FAN FAVORITE] ShinDeku, 1K. Shinsou knows that he shouldn’t have snuck into his boyfriend’s dorm room for morning cuddles, but he couldn’t help himself [for OTPtober on Twitter] 

Good Morning, Koda - Gen, 1K. Aizawa recognizes the anxiety in one of his students, and goes about trying to help quietly [for @/dadzawa-week-2020] 

Go Fish - Gen, 1K. Aoyama doesn’t spend a lot of time with people, but for Midoriya he’ll make an exception [for @dekusquadweek] 

Gravel and Back Alleys - Gen, 2K. Shigaraki doesn’t understand why a hero keeps letting him go. Guess he’ll just have to find out for himself [personally not too proud of this one, heh] [for DustBunny Week on Twitter] 

Harmonizing Colors - [FAN FAVORITE] EraserMight, 1K. When Yagi finds his emotions not acting the way he wants them to, he knows that he has to find another outlet - and to keep it a secret [for @/erasermight-week] 

Indecision - TodoChako, 2K. Todoroki knows that he shouldn’t be fornicating with the enemy in this future au, but he can’t help himself. He misses her [for TodoChako Week on Twitter] 

In the Grey - [FAN FAVORITE] Gen, 1K. Midoriya finds himself going home to an empty house, feeling rather cold [for @/dekusquadweek] 

In the Rain - CloudMic, 2K. After the national hero rankings let out, Shirakumo and Yamada find their way home has been kind of ruined and have to walk together to the train station [for CloudMic Week on Twitter] 

In the Teacher’s Lounge - EraserMight, 1K. Aizawa and Yagi spend some time together after classes [for OTPtober and based off of this art by @theoutspokenrodent] 

Last Word - [FAN FAVORITE] ShinDeku, 1K. Midoriya has hanahaki and never had the chance to tell Shinsou [for @/shindekumonth] 

Late Night Chamomile - Gen, 1K. Yaoyorozu is having a hard night and her teacher doesn’t want to leave her alone with the nightmares [for @/dadzawa-week-2020] 

Lessons in English and Subtlety - CloudMic, 2K. Shirakumo is having a hard time focusing on his work with Yamada right there [for CloudMic Week on Twitter] 

Light the Candles, Not the Cake - EraserCloud, 1K. Aizawa forgot that it was Shirakumo’s birthday in this AU where he lives, and he’s hurrying to make up for it [for OTPtober] 

Little Blue Teacups - Gen, 1K. Todoroki needs some help getting rid of something and he asks Uraraka for help [for @/dekusquadweek] 

Locked Up - Gen, 1K. Shinsou likes hiding himself away, which is great until he finds a place he can’t get out of [for @/shindekumonth] 

Looking Out - Gen, 6K. Aizawa starts looking out for Yagi when he finds out that the man is being stalked and it brings out some of his darker side [written because an event rejected me! Thanks guys, this has the most comments out of every fic I’ve ever written! Also for @/badthingshappenbingo] 

Lying Together - EraserMight, 1.5K. Yagi and Aizawa learning how to operate together in all things, but especially sleep [for @/erasermight-week] 

Middle of the Night - Gen, 1K. Just something about Iida checking in on Midoriya [for @/dekusquadweek] 

Missing Gears - EraserMight, 10K. In an AU where Yagi never gets OFA, he becomes a support course student, who later in life works with Aizawa - an old high school friend [for @erasermight-bigbang] 

Nana’s Cape - Gen, 2K. In a role swap au, Tenko Shimura is trying to find his grandmother’s cape, taken by villains just to mess with him [for DustBunny Week on Twitter] 

New Directions - Gen, 1K. Giran finds a young Touya Todoroki on the street and decides to help the kid out 

Not the First to Say - Gen, 1K. Todoroki finds Yaoyorozu the night before her birthday, feeling down. They have a talk. [for @todomomoweek2020] 

Ocean Air - Gen, 3K. Todoroki has never stepped foot into the ocean to and he’s got some thoughts abut it [for TodoChako Week on Twitter] 

Old Memories, New Rivals - Gen, 1.5K. In which Shinsou remembers a young Midoriya [for @/shindekumonth]

One Night Off - ShinDeku, 1K. For once these two pro heroes have time for each other without forcing it to happen [for OTPtober] 

On Repeat - Gen, 1K. Shirakumo has been reliving the same day over for forever, and is finally just waking up [for @/whumptober2020] 

On the Battlefield - Gen, 1K. Dabi stops someone from bleeding out, just in case he needs them later 

Over the Phone - EraserMight, 1.5K. Aizawa has a hard time falling asleep without Yagi there with him [for @/erasermight-week] 

Painful Decisions - TodoMomo, 1K. On their anniversary, Yaoyorozu realizes she doesn’t actually love him [for @/todomomoweek2020] 

Prom Night - CloudMic, 2K. Shirakumo and Yamada skip out on their special night at school to have a special night for the two of them [for CloudMic Week on Twitter] 

Promise - EraserCloud, 1K. Aizawa gets hurt and doesn’t tell Shirakumo 

Proposal - EraserCloud, 1.5K. Wedding night for Aizawa and Shirakumo, just some softness 

Rough Patrol - EraserCloud, 1.5K. Aizawa gets hurt during patrol and doesn’t warn Shirakumo until later 

Rubble - Gen, 1K. Yagi watches his successor bury himself in rubble, and despite the fact that the boy is a pro hero now, he can’t help but go off and try to find him [for @/badthingshappenbingo] 

Ruining Movie Night - EraserMic, 1K. Sometimes Aizawa just needs to let his emotions out, and sometimes he doesn’t know when that’s going to happen [for @/whumptober2020] 

Running on Empty - Gen, 2K. Uraraka forgot to get food before Todoroki showed up for a study session and she’s hungry 

Sapporo Snow Festival - Gen, 1K. Todoroki runs into Yaoyorozu when he wasn’t expecting it but it ends surprisingly well [for @t/odomomoweek2020] 

Scientifically Proven to be Pointless - Gen, 1K. AFO as a young lad, trying to help his younger brother with his illness [for AFOtober, run by AFOzine on Twitter] 

Scrambled Eggs - CloudMic, 2K. When Aizawa dies, Shirakumo and Yamada go through with making an agency [for CloudMic Week on Twitter] 

Sitting in the Rain - Gen, 1K. Sometimes Tsu likes to sit in the rain. Today she doesn’t have to sit alone [from @aconstantstateofbladerunner’s list of prompts found here] 

Small Grievances - Gen, 1K. When Aizawa dies, the rest of the rooftop gang mourns [for @/whumptober2020] 

Snow and the Kitchen Drawer - Gen, 1K. Sometimes Yamada hates himself for choices he didn’t make [for CloudMic Week on Twitter] 

Something Like Eisoptrophobia - Gen, 1K. There’s this little fear that the Voice Hero has never gotten over before [for @/whumptober2020] 

Studying Together - TodoMomo, 1K. In this College AU, Todoroki hates biology. At least right now he isn’t going through it alone [for @/todomomoweek2020] 

Stumbling - Gen, 1K. Midoriya runs into Shinsou at a hero con [for @shindekumonth] 

Sunday Morning - [FIST FIC] EraserMic, 1K. Just something soft for two pro heroes on a rainy day 

Surprise Call - A young Shigaraki is glad to hear from AFO, as rare as it might be [for AFOtober] 

Tensei’s Meal - Gen, 1K. In the aftermath of his older brother getting hospitalized by the hero killer, Iida has to be reminded to eat [for @dadzawa-week-2020] 

The Aftermath - EraserMight, 1K. After Nighteye dies, Yagi has some feelings he has to process [for @/erasermight-week] 

The Business Card - ShinMono, 1K. In this College AU, Shinsou is just trying to ignore the noises of other people in the dorms and runs into someone quite eccentric [for @shinmonoweek] 

The Car Ride - Gen, 1K. Shinsou getting out of therapy and being absolutely exhausted [for @/dekusquadweek] 

The Last Halloween - Gen, 3K. A surprisingly soft DFO story from when Midoriya was little [for @/tunafishprincess’ Dad For One Halloween event] 

The Little Matryoshka Doll - Gen, 1K. From a time when they were younger, a small Yaoyorozu looks for her little friend at an adult party, not knowing that something’s happened to him [for @/todomomoweek2020] 

The Nightly Watch - Gen, 1K. Eri has had some nightmares so Aizawa is staying with her for a bit [for @/dadzawa-week-2020] 

The Pause Button - EraserMic, 1K. Yamada gets injured while working and can’t talk for a few days 

The Waiting Room - [FAN FAVORITE] Gen, 2K. When Yagi ends up in the hospital and Midoriya goes to see him, he runs into Tsukauchi in the hospital [for @/tunafishprincess’ Dads for Deku event] 

They Were Roommates - ShinCahko, 9K, ongoing. Shinsou and Uraraka ended up becoming roommates because of the cheap rent and it has some unforeseen consequences [for @shinchakoweek] 

Things Will Get Better - ShinDeku, 1K. Midoriya loses something vital to him and Shinsou is there to help him [for @/shindekumonth] 

Three Little Rings - EraserCloudMic, 5.5K. Shirakumo wants to propose to his partners but he doesn’t know how it would work for them [for CloudEraserMic Week on Twitter] 

Through the Haze - EraserMight/EraserCloud, 1K. Aizawa starts seeing things when he gets too sick and Yagi doesn’t have the heart to correct him [for @/whumptober2020] 

Under the Maples - Gen, 1K. Shinsou was just planning on going for a bike ride, not running into weird hero course kids [for @/shinmonoweek] 

Under the Same Roof - Gen, 1K. Once upon a time, the original OFA user and his brother lived in the same house and things were very tense [for AFOtober on Twitter] 

Waiting to Say Hello - Gen, 1K. In an alternative universe where Hawks has anxiety, his meeting with the number one hero goes a little differently [for @/hawksweek2020] 

Winning the Bet - [FAN FAVORITE] Gen, 2K. When Yamada is forced to make a bet about who he thinks will break first during finals week, he doesn’t admit that he’s actually won [for @/tunafishprincess’ Dads for Deku Week event] 

Visiting Hours - Gen, 1K. Villain Todoroki finds himself going to see an old friend of his during a snowstorm [for @/todomomoweek2020] 

Walking Back - EraserMight, 1.5K. When Yagi thinks that Aizawa looks too tired to get back to the dorms on his own, he does his best to help him. It ends with a bit of a shock [for OTPtober] 

Warranted Interruptions - Gen, 1K. Monoma and Aizawa don’t interact often, which is fine with the both of them - but that doesn’t mean that Aizawa can ignore when someone is hurting [for @/dadzawa-week-2020] 

Winter Home - TodoMomo, 1K. Todoroki ends up going with Yaoyorozu on a family vacation and feels welcomed [for @/todomomoweek2020] 

I hope you guys like them, and thanks for taking the time to read all the way down here, if you did. This took most of the night, ha. If you read any of them, I’d love like... a kudos. Statistics bring me down, you, so keeping the 1 : 10 ratio for more of these fics would be awesome 

New Year’s Resolution  : Write more Quality, not Quantity. More DadMight, maybe post some of my other longer stories. Don’t make every request something to post. 

[mysweetestcreature]

Purple Clouds and Tangerine Skies

Words: 24.5k

Warnings: Mentions of death...smut?

Summary: Why can’t two people who are meant for each other get it right?

***

They’re fighting again. All Y/n can do is shut her eyes in the hopes that when she opens them, everything will be okay. But no amount of wishing can drown out the noise. 

“I can’t keep pretending like everything is fine! It’s not. You know it isn’t, Matt,” she hears her mother erupt between sobs. Lately, it’s been the same angry words shouted at one another over and over again. Y/n takes her baby sister, Ava, in her eight-year-old arms. She hugs the baby close. If she can’t block the screaming out, at least she can protect her sister from it.

“Grace, please.” It’s her dad’s voice. She’s never heard him sound so desperate. “What about our family? The girls need you. I need you! You can’t just walk away from us.” 

There’s a sudden silence that follows. At first, Y/n thinks that maybe her parents have reached a resolution. Her dad has always been good at negotiating. It is his job, after all. She’s seen him in action whenever he brings her to work with him. Maybe he’s managed to work that same magic on her mum. She gently lays Ava down on the bed, creating a makeshift barrier of pillows on either side of her, before exiting the room and running down the stairs. 

Before she can reach the bottom, she’s forced to a halt when she sees her daddy slouched over on the last step. His head is buried in his hands, his shoulders are shaking. He’s crying. That’s a sight she’s never seen before. He’d always been the picture of bravery and strength, but now that’s been washed away and replaced with someone who looks broken beyond repair. She doesn’t recognize him.

Where is her mum? She slips past her dad, despite wanting to throw herself in his arms for comfort. Besides his sniffling, the house is quiet. There’s no trace of her mum. It scares her.

“Where’s Mummy?” she asks meekly, turning to her father.

He doesn’t respond, but instead, he brings his hands out of his hair, and stares painfully at the door. Without thinking, she throws it open, the sun’s light momentarily blinding her for a few unhinged seconds. It’s only the screeching of wheels on road that brings her back.

“Mummy!” she cries, running as fast as her short legs can take her. Her eyes begin to swell with tears. The black taxi is still, and she’s just able to stare at her mum through its window. “Mummy, where are you going?” she pleads as she bangs on the door, but her mother doesn’t even flinch. Why won’t she look at me? 

The engine starts up, and the car begins to drive away. Y/n chases after it, crying out for her mum to come back. “Don’t go! Please don’t leave me!” It picks up speed after it turns the corner. She feels herself slowing down, but even then, she refuses to stop. The distance between herself and the car becomes too massive.  

“Mummy, come back!” 

Arms envelop around her, and now she’s running on air. “Let her go,” her dad tells her, and she can feel his own tears against her neck. Her feet stop kicking, it’s like the energy has completely drained from her body. Her mind, however, is still racing. 

***

A few days later, her daddy packs both hers and Ava’s bags, and loads them all into his car. She doesn’t ask questions, and instead busies herself with the fleeting landscape. A part of her had expected all that’s happened to be a part of some elaborate nightmare. But each morning, she wakes up to her parents’ bed left untouched, and her dad asleep on the living room couch. Ava is asleep beside her, and Y/n can’t help but think how lucky her little sister is to be living in ignorance. At three months old, she’s only just learned to hold her head up. Barely. Y/n doesn’t remember anything from that age, and maybe that’s a good thing. Had her parents always been this hostile towards one another? Had her mother done this before? What if she had? Does that mean she’ll eventually come back?

“We’re going to be staying with your grandparents for a while,” she’s taken out of her thoughts when her dad finally speaks up.

“Why?” She catches his eyes in the rearview mirror. They only ever go up to Nan and Gramps’ house during the holidays.

His fingers thump against the steering wheel, and he breathes in deeply as though to say something. It takes a moment before he answers her. “I just...I can’t do this alone.” His voice breaks, even though he tries to pass it off with a cough. “It’ll be good for us,” he says again. “You’ll see.”

When they hit a red light, he turns to look at her. He smiles weakly. No matter how much she wants to believe him, she still yearns for her mummy. It’s become especially hard in the mornings when her hair is knotted from tossing and turning in her sleep, and her dad can’t manage to tame it for the life of him. Her mum would often braid her hair, and like magic, it would remain intact all day. She always loved how gentle and soothing her mum would be as she brushed each strand with such care. That’s not to say that her dad isn’t trying, of course, but it’s just not the same.

***

Her grandparents live in a little town called Holmes Chapel. It’s pretty, she supposes. The buildings are a lot older, and the streets aren’t as busy as they are back home. She sits back and takes a deep breath. Her tummy flips a little when she thinks about how she might never see her old friends again, or her room, or even Mrs. Watson who lives next door (she would babysit Y/n and Ava whenever her mum had to run some errands). 

When she looks out the window again, she sees Nan and Gramps stood on their front porch, smiles reaching their eyes. 

“Where are my babies!” Nan exclaims, her arms stretched out. Her dad says a quick hello before opening up the back door. Y/n hops out, and her legs feel a bit unsteady from having been cramped in the car for all those hours. 

“Hi, Nana,” she greets sadly. Nan’s smile falters slightly, but she doesn’t seem to let it deter her.

The elderly woman bends down to her height and gathers her in her arms. Over Nan’s shoulder, Y/n watches as her dad whispers something in Gramps’ ear. Although she can’t hear it, she can tell by Gramps’ reaction that it can’t have been good. “A bit peaky?” Nan asks, when she finally pulls away. She cups Y/n’s cheeks and presses a kiss to her forehead. “I just took the cookies out of the oven, actually. Let’s go check on them before your grandfather gobbles them up.” 

Gramps groans behind them. “It was one time!” 

Nan waves him off, guiding her through the front door with an encouraging push. “Oh, you won’t believe all the colors I bought for you at the crafts store yesterday! I know how much you love to draw,” she says. Her voice drowns out when she hears something fall outside. “Arthur Y/l/n! If you break another one of my pots, I swear to–” It leaves Y/n to wander through the hall on her own. Her grandparents’ house is quaint and orderly and smells vaguely of warm vanilla (probably from the cookies) and jasmine. The walls are covered in framed photographs of her daddy and his older brother through the years, a few of a much younger Nan and Gramps, and finally of Y/n, Ava and all of her cousins. (They live in Nice––her Uncle Brandon married a French woman named Dominique––and only ever seem to come around for Nan and Gramps’ anniversary.) Finally, below her uncle and aunt’s wedding photo, is her parents’. She tries not to stare at it too long.

***

Y/n decides that maybe spending time with her grandparents won’t be so bad. After all, her and Ava don’t have to share a room anymore, which means that she won’t be woken up by her little sister’s 3 am wailing fits. Nan’s done an impressive job decorating on such short notice, too. The walls are still plain white, but at least there are some pretty stickers of butterflies and flowers and a few of Y/n’s favorite cartoon characters. Even the windows are nicely covered with those gel ornaments that she loves to poke. 

It’s all very nice, but she still wonders about when she’ll be able to sleep in her own bed, in her own house, under her own sheets.

“When are we going home?” she asks her dad as he tucks her in for the night. His hands stop in the middle of smoothening out her blanket, his eyes remaining glued to one of its printed ballerinas. 

“To be honest with you, love,” he sighs, “I don’t know if we’ll ever go back...at least not anytime soon.” 

“Oh.” That’s not the answer she wanted to hear. What if her mum does decide to come back? It’s still possible, right? After all, her mummy had always told her how much she loved her. She would scoop Y/n into her arms and twirl her around the room as they both laughed their hearts out. When she was sick, she’d always have her favorite tomato soup and grilled cheese. Every day after school, she’d sit down with her and help her do her homework and then give her an extra cookie if she didn’t complain. 

Then another thought pops into her head. Her mum hadn’t been able to do any of that stuff recently. It had been like living with someone who looked exactly like her mum, but without all the warmth and tenderness that once was. Y/n turns away from her dad and starts to sob silently into her pillow. 

Maybe she isn’t coming back, after all.

The dip in the bed from where her daddy had been finally reinflates. He’s about to wrap his hand around the door before she stops him. She calls out his name, sitting up with her arms around her knees. 

“We’ll be happier here?” 

His shoulders visibly relax, and for the first time in what feels like so long, he offers a sincere smile and nods affirmatively. She hadn’t realized how much she missed his smile until now. There’s something about it that she can’t quite describe, but she feels the safest she’s felt in a while.

***

Her daddy had left for the airport some hours ago. Gramps had offered to bring her along for the ride the night before, but she decided that she would rather not watch him leave. Instead, she pretended to be asleep when he came into her room and kissed her on the forehead. She knows he’ll be back in a few days, but it’s always tough when he has to go. It’s one of the other reasons they needed to move in with her grandparents, her dad has to travel a lot for work.  

As soon as he and Gramps had loaded the car and driven away, she had stepped outside and sat down on the grass. That had been before the sun had totally risen. Now, it’s up high and shining its rays on top of her head. Nan, who had been surprised to see her granddaughter sitting out on the lawn so early in the morning, had asked her if she wanted breakfast, but was told she wasn’t hungry. 

They’ve only been living here for a little over a week. She thought that they would’ve had more time to adjust before her dad had to fly off to wherever it is they’ve sent him. So far, things have been fine...or at least they’ve been as best as they can be. She tries not to think about her mum too much (she’s down to only once or twice a day). It’s a good thing that Nan and Gramps have a million ways to keep her busy.

Today is different, however. She’d had her daddy with her when she felt homesick. Now, she feels alone. 

“Hi,” her head snaps up, and there’s a boy, maybe around her age, standing above her. He has messy brown hair that curls at the ends, his pleasant smile is complete with dimples on either cheek. It’s his eyes, however, that hold her attention. They’re like spearmint, if spearmint is even considered a color. Or maybe they’re the same shade as the stems of her Nan’s petunias. She can’t quite describe it, but she can tell that she likes them. 

“Hi.” 

The boy takes her response as an invitation to sit down beside her. “I’m Harry. Do you want a Freddo?” He pulls out a chocolate frog from his pocket. “My sister always eats chocolate when she’s upset, and she’s a girl, and you’re a girl, and you looked kind of sad, so...” He gives her a lopsided grin.

“I’m not supposed to take candy from strangers,” she says. 

He––Harry––rolls his eyes. “I just told you, my name’s Harry.” He shifts a bit, then points to the house on the left of hers. “That’s my house there.”

“What if I don’t want to believe you?” she challenges, but she’s failing miserably not to grin at how utterly exasperated he’s getting.

With a defeated sigh, Harry shouts towards the house. “Oi, Gem!” It takes only a few seconds for a head to peak out of an upstairs window. 

An older girl, maybe around thirteen looks like she could throttle him. “I’m on the phone, Harry! Bugger off or I swear I’ll––oh, no, no! Not you, Blake.” She disappears back into her room. 

Y/n can’t help but giggle, and Harry turns to her, a triumphant look on his face. “See. Told you.” 

Once again, he offers her the Freddo, but this time, she happily accepts it. They sit in a comfortable silence as she nibbles on the chocolate. 

“I’m Y/n,” she finally tells him. 

Harry studies her carefully. “Are Mr. and Mrs. Y/l/n your grandparents? Because I’ve been over there loads of times––she babysits me when my mum and Gem are busy––but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

She nods. “Me, my sister and my dad moved in last week.”

“And your mum?” he tilts his head.

Her teeth bite down on the inside of her cheek. She looks at him wearily before staring down into her lap. “It’s just us.”

“Oh,” is all he replies. He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “My parents are separated too. My dad lives in the city, but I still see him most weekends.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever see my mum again,” she frowns.

What he does next startles her, but she’s more surprised at how quickly she relaxes. He wraps an arm around her and brings her closer so she can lean on her shoulder. “Mum says hugs help a lot,” he says sheepishly, she can feel his eyes on her. She nods against him, and it encourages him to continue. “I’m sorry you can’t see your mum, but hey, you can always talk to me! I’ll be your friend.”

It’s her turn to look up. “You promise?”

“Promise.”

***

Y/n decides that she really likes living with her grandparents. Her and Harry are practically inseparable, spending the better part of the day together (and sometimes during the night when they have sleepovers). This means that she hasn’t cried in a long time, and she’s heard her daddy tell her grandparents that things are finally starting to look up. Her daddy looks better than he has been in ages, he doesn’t have that faraway look in his eyes anymore. 

Harry usually comes over after breakfast, or even earlier when he knows Nan will be making French toast just the way he likes it. They play the entire day, a variety of games that range from hopscotch to pretend, to sneaking into Gemma’s room to dig into her stash of sugary treats because the girl has enough Freddo frogs to last her until next Christmas. He even likes to draw with her, even though she knows he rather be outside running around. 

Sometimes Gramps will drive them into town, and they’ll go to the park or the ice cream parlor or their favorite Chinese restaurant. (She learns that she prefers shrimp over pork fried rice). There’s also a bakery that she thinks is the cutest place she’s ever seen. They serve all sorts of pastries and desserts that the owner, Martha, gives them for free when the rest of the customers aren’t looking. Y/n thinks that’s all to do with Harry. She’s eight, and she can already see how charming her best friend is. She’s glad that she has him by her side. He’s made her time here better than she could have ever imagined.

But soon enough, September comes along, and with it, school. Y/n would be lying if she said she wasn’t nervous. While she and Harry will be attending the same school, he’s a year older, which means she might not see him nearly as much as she’d like. 

“It’ll be fun! You’ll see,” he tells her as they walk to school. “And we have breaktime, too. I can introduce you to all my friends, and you can introduce me to all of your new ones!” He sounds far too excited. 

Y/n pulls on his sleeve, and he clumsily stumbles back a bit. “But Harry,” she whines, digging the toe of her shoe into the sidewalk. “What if I don’t make any friends?” 

“You?” he gasps. “You’re like the most awesome person I know! Just be yourself.”

She doesn’t say a word, instead, she drops her head to look anxiously 

“Come on.” He takes her hand in his. “I’ll be at the end of the hall if you need me.” And they walk the rest of the way hand in hand. 

***

Harry drops her off at her classroom before going to find his. He promised he’d walk down with her for lunch, so at least she has that much to look forward to. When he disappears down the hall, she finally lets herself turn around to examine the place she’ll be spending the rest of the year in. 

The desks are all perfectly aligned, with names of her classmates in bold and colorful writing on cards at the very front. She quickly looks for her name and takes a seat. On the board, her teacher’s name is artfully written in the center. Miss Ferguson. She must have been the one who had greeted Y/n at the door a few minutes earlier. 

Y/n’s curiosity gets the best of her, and she starts committing every feature of the room to memory. The pictures of letters and corresponding objects and animals along the top of the blackboard are just like the ones from her old school. From her seat, she can see the playground, and she fantasizes about all the time she and Harry had spent on the monkey bars and hidden in the tube slide. 

“Do you want to trade notebooks?” Y/n turns in her seat in the direction of the voice. Behind her is a girl with blonde pigtails and an adorable gap between her two front teeth. “My mum always forgets that I don’t like purple.”

Y/n stares down at her own notebook, which is pink with white polka dots. “I like purple.” 

The girl grins widely. “Yay! You’re nice, I like you. I’m Penelope,” but as soon as she says it, her nose scrunches up in disgust. “But I hate being called that. So, just call me P or Penny!” Y/n gives a brief introduction, and the two girls trade notebooks. 

“You’re new, right?” Penny asks.

“Yup,” Y/n confirms, fishing her pencil case out of her backpack. “I moved here at the beginning of the summer.”

“Really? I’ve never lived anywhere besides here before, but when I’m older I want to live in London!” 

“That’s where I’m from,” Y/n says sheepishly. She hasn’t thought much about it, but when she does, she still misses it a fair amount. 

Penny’s hands go to her cheeks as she gapes in astonishment. “That’s so cool! What’s it like? Have you ever met the Queen?”

Y/n giggles. “I don’t even know where the Queen lives!” 

“Ugh, I’ve got so many things to teach you, then.” She and Penny make plans to hang out during breaktime and lunch.

Maybe Harry was right after all.

***

When the bell rings for lunch, Miss Ferguson’s class files out of the room in a somewhat straight-file line. Y/n walks behind Penny, her new friend is explaining all the proper ways to curtsy in front of a prince when a hand reaches out and tugs on the back of Y/n’s collar. 

She spins around, ready to thwack the whomever it might be. “I leave you for a few hours and you’ve already forgotten about me?” Harry smirks. 

“You just surprised me, that’s all,” she says. She’s fallen to the back of the line now. Penny stays back too and walks over to the two of them. “Harry, this is Penny! She’s in the same class.” 

Penny’s eyes nearly bug out of her head and her cheeks flush a shade of pink. “Hi-hi,” she stutters. Y/n stares at her for a moment, unsure where this sense of shyness has suddenly come from. She shakes her head, it’s probably just a draft from an open window. 

“Hi, Penny,” Harry returns kindly. He then turns back to Y/n. “Let’s go down to the cafeteria. I’m starving!” 

“Yeah! Let’s go!” Penny says, sounding much more like herself. Y/n walks in between them, feeling content. 

***

By the time she’s fifteen, Y/n has all she can ever ask for. Her dad doesn’t travel as much anymore, except for trips to the London office once a month, he’s able to work from Manchester. Ava’s seven now, and therefore able to cause all sorts of mischief. In fact, just last night, she’d eaten the entire leftover cake in the fridge when the rest of the family had gone to bed. She claims it was a ghost, but the frosting smeared across her face told everyone otherwise.

Penny’s practically moved in with them. Things at home aren’t always the best for her. Her mum usually spends the days drinking, the nights clubbing, and the early hours of the morning in some stranger’s bed. As for her dad, Penny doesn’t bring him up much. He decided to reconcile with his wife when Penny was three years old, leaving her and her mother penniless and alone. And well, she hasn’t spoken to him since. 

Finally, there’s Harry. He’s still her funny, sweet, and incredibly cute best friend. He’s sixteen now, far more mature than her. While they still spend loads of time together, he has his friends, and she has hers. Although, he does still come around for breakfast on the weekends––Nan’s French toast is still his most favorite thing on the planet––and they usually spend the rest of the time catching up on homework and watching movies they’ve already seen a million times. She loves how she’s never bored when she’s around him. They could be laying on the grass outside her house (much like they usually do) for hours, talking about nothing and everything, and still never run out of things to talk about. 

Except in the last few months. The thing is, Harry’s got himself a girlfriend, Lia, and she doesn’t like Y/n. There’s no logical explanation as to why, but whenever Y/n tries to talk to Harry at school, Lia slips her arms around him, like she’s claiming what’s hers, and glares at her until she has no choice but to retreat. She doesn’t have the heart to tell Harry that his first serious girlfriend is a total bitch, no matter how much she wants to. 

It’s a Friday night, Penny is staying over. She’s lazily flipping through last month’s edition of Vogue on Y/n’s desk. 

“Have you ever been in love?” she asks. 

“We’re fifteen. It’s not like there’s been much opportunity,” Y/n chuckles. She glances up momentarily from her sketchbook. If there’s a punchline, it never comes. She then gives her a look. “Why, have you?”

Penny shrugs. “Sometimes I think I am, but it doesn’t really matter. He’d never see me like that.” 

Y/n doesn’t respond to this. She’s heard stories about the boy Penny’s apparently fancied for ages now, but for some reason her friend refuses to give her a name. If she had to guess, it’s probably Bobby Baker from her French class. They dated for a few months when they were fourteen, but things had ended abruptly. Sometimes she’ll see them talking between classes and while in line for lunch. Her money’s definitely on Bobby.

Not wanting to press her for details, however, Y/n changes the topic. “Harry’s probably in love with Lia. I saw them snogging at the bust stop this morning.”

Penny groans. “They’re so gross!” she pretends to gag. “Oh, Harry. You’re so handsome! Kiss me before our lips dry out! Oh, Lia, you’re so pretty. Take this flower as a sign of my undying affections!” She imitates them, doing it so flawlessly. 

They share a look, and suddenly, they’re balled over in fits of laughter.

“How do they even breathe?” Y/n wheezes into her pillow. It’s not to say that she hasn’t kissed a boy before. It’s just never been as intense––or as nauseating––as that. Besides, none of her boyfriends have last long enough. Harry says that it’s all for the best, according to him, none of them are good enough for her. 

“They’re twos, you’re a total ten,” he had said to her once. She pretended not to feel her heart leap at the compliment. “A ten can’t go any lower than maybe a seven.” She wanted to say that she thought he was a ten, too, but was too embarrassed to say it.

***

Penny leaves early the next morning, but first helping herself to some of the food Nan had just prepared before zipping out the door. She leaves Y/n half asleep and barely functional.

“So, what’s the gossip?” Nan teases her, pouring her a cup of tea. 

“Same old, same old,” she yawns. She breathes in the steam from her mug and smiles. 

Nan places a plate of French toast in front of her. “Talking about the same old things until three in the morning? If only your grandfather and I could stay up that late. Of course, we’d be doing other things that decidedly aren’t–” she pauses, and Y/n’s never been more thankful. They both turn towards the back door. “Ah, and I was just beginning to worry.” 

Harry mutters a sleepy good morning, then stumbles into the seat beside Y/n. He looks at her breakfast, then looks at her. As if they can communicate silently, Y/n pushes her plate towards him. 

“Harry, dear,” Nan starts, making up a new plate for her granddaughter. “How does your mum feel about you spending so much time here?” 

“She’s fine with it,” he says, mouth full of bread. “As long as I bring her back some food, she says I can spend as much time here as I want.” 

Nan just rolls her eyes. “Will that be banana or blueberry then?”

“Hmm...” Harry pretends to mull over the options, but Nan knows better. Y/n watches with amusement as she places both bananas and blueberries on top of the French toast, then places it on a disposable plate and wraps it with tinfoil. 

She turns to them. “I’m just going to pop next door and give this to Anne.” Just before she can slide the door open, she calls one last remark over her shoulder. “Try not to burn the house down. We just had the floors waxed.” 

Y/n continues to sip on her tea, and Harry hums happily around another delectable bite. They sit in comfortable silence. 

“I feel like we haven’t talked in a while,” he says. He looks at her curiously. “Why is that?”

She has to bite her lip in order to stop herself from saying something she’ll regret. “Well, you know. I’ve been really busy lately.” From the corner of her eye, she can see how one of his brows shoot straight up.

“Busy with?”

“You know there’s an art show happening soon. I’ve been spending all my time in the art room.” She knows she isn’t convincing anyone, let alone him. He can read her like a book.

But if Harry is thinking she’s lying, then he doesn’t say anything. “Right,” he says aloofly. Taking another bite of his––her––breakfast, he continues. “Lia’s going to have a few pieces on display.”

This catches her off guard. “Lia’s into art? Since when?” 

He gives her a noncommitted grunt. “It’s news to me too.” He takes her mug from her hands and takes a sip. “But she seemed really interested when I mentioned you were participating.”

“Huh.” She rests her chin on her fist. That’s strange. She’s never seen Lia Hall set foot anywhere near the art room. Lia’s a cheerleader and spends most of her time cheering on the school’s football team, which is how she and Harry got together. Y/n would know if they shared any common interests. At least that way, she could talk to Harry without her grumbling bloody murder under her breath. 

“What is it?” his question pulls her out of thought. She plasters a smile on her face and says it’s nothing. 

***

Her bedroom window is right across from his, and they’ve been using it to their advantage since they were kids. When they both had bedtimes that were too early to ever enjoy the night, they would look out their window and find the other looking right back. They’d spend the night trying to make the other laugh with funny faces and their own little game of charades. 

But as Y/n looks up from her half-finished essay and through the glass, she doesn’t need elaborate hand motions to know that Harry is pissed. She wonders if he realizes where he’s standing or maybe he just doesn’t care right now. He looks like he’s trying to stay calm, but Y/n knows him better than that. While he isn’t one to yell, his voice does get tight when he’s trying hard not to. 

He runs a hand through his brown locks in frustration. She feels guilty for not having the strength to turn away, but she’s just too curious for her own good. If only she could read his lips just to get an idea as to why he’s so upset, but alas, that’s never been her talent. She waits, occasionally working on her essay (occasionally), then lifting her head back up to check up on him. 

When she looks up after a stroke of genius that had promoted words to pour out onto the page, he’s gone. Her shoulders drop in disappointment. Oh, well. At least all she has to do now is proofread. 

“Did you know your nan is making pot pie for dinner?” 

She swivels in her chair, her eyebrow tilting up. “I did.”

“And you didn’t bother to tell me?” he pretends to be hurt as he falls onto her bed. “I’m wounded you would choose to withhold such valuable information from me.”

“I’m sorry?” she chuckles. Closing her laptop, she sits on the floor right beside where his head falls of the side of the bed. 

He turns to her, his upside-down face grinning pompously at her. “Eh, you know I can never stay mad at you.” She thumps his forehead with another laugh, but he only continues to smile.

*** 

Y/n’s always loved art and how it can imitate life in the way the artist chooses. Ever since she can remember, she’s been doodling landscapes and portraits on napkins or just about any plain surface she can get her hands on. She thinks she gets it from her mum. There’s not much she can remember about her, but she does recall her mother’s love for the fine arts. And as much as she tries not to think about her, she’s happy she knows where she gets it from. 

Mrs. Cuomo, the art teacher, says she has a gift, and Y/n tries not to let it get to her head, but she can’t help it! She’s already taken to looking for art programs around England. If she wouldn’t miss her family too much, she’d consider going abroad. 

“Paris seems fabulous, don’t you think? I mean, they have some of the best fashion schools in the world.” Penny muses as they walk around the gallery. “French boys are a plus.”

“Is that where you want to go after college?” 

“Possibly. I don’t know if I’d ever be able to afford it, though.” 

Y/n nods, understanding her friend’s situation.

They continue to browse all the art on display, until stopping at Y/n’s exhibit. She has three paintings. The one on the left is an abstract portrait of Ava that she’d been working on since the last art show. It was inspired by her little sister’s fifth birthday. Dad had bought her the cutest little periwinkle dress with a grey ribbon around the waist. It’s something Y/n would’ve been over the moon for at that age. But Ava being the little rebel she was (and still is) had gotten it all dirty. Right before her party, she came trudging back into the house, a complete mess from head to toe. Y/n’s entitled the portrait Muddy Princess. On the right is a landscape of a forest with the simple name Serene Acres. Finally, the one in the middle is a sideview of a boy laying in the grass. His hands are behind his head and his eyes are closed. He looks relaxed, like he’s never had a trouble in the world. As do all her paintings, this one had started off as a mere sketch born from a vision that she suddenly had just as she had woken up. To be honest, she wasn’t sure if she’d make it anything more than that. But the longer she spent refining it, she just knew she had to take it all the way. There’s something comforting about him. This one in particular is Y/n’s absolute favorite. 

“Oh, you’re totally going to win this year,” Penny enthuses. “I’m not saying this because you’re my best friend and I’d literally give you a kidney, but seriously. You’re golden.” 

“I hope you’re right,” she says nervously. “Mrs. Cuomo said that the judges are going to be a lot more critical this year. I just hope they like my stuff.” 

Penny waves her off, as if she were talking nonsense. “They will.”

“Will what?” A pair of familiar hands land on her waist, and she can’t help but smile when sees him gasp at the wall in front of her. “Woah,” he’s speechless. She pats his arm as she steps away from him, afraid that his girlfriend might catch sight of them. 

“You like them?” she smiles. He nods, still unable to speak. 

“So, where’s Lia’s display?” Penny asks, but Y/n can sense the annoyance in her voice. She knows all about the girl’s hatred of Y/n.

Harry stares blankly, until finally registering the question. “Oh...um. She decided not to enter, after all.” He wraps an arm Y/n once again, and this time, Y/n doesn’t bother pushing him off.

“That seems sudden,” she says.

“Well...” Harry looks left and right, like he’s making sure no one will hear them. “I guess she realized that she didn’t stand a chance.”

This makes Penny snort. “Are we talking about the same girl here? Lia Hall does not back down. From anything. I’ve seen her at the mall fighting over jeans with University kids. She’s scary as hell.”

***

She’s laying on the grass on her front lawn when Harry comes outside and joins her. His body is oriented in the opposite direction so that their eyes are aligned if they were to face each other. He doesn’t say anything more than a hello. His hands are placed on his stomach and his nose wriggles when a cool breeze brushes past. 

“Lia and I broke up,” he suddenly says, but his voice is even and calm. 

“I’m sorry.”

He laughs loudly. “No, you’re not.” He glances at her before facing back up. “I don’t have to be a mind reader to know that you two don’t get along.”

“At least I know you’re not dense.” She bites back a smile. Why is she so elated with the news? Does that make her a bad person? Who’s to say? “She was pretty awful.”

“She was hot, though,” Harry interjects.

“I suppose.”

Silence washes over them. If she were any more relaxed, she’s sure she could fall asleep right here, next to him. 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

“What?”

“The clouds, Harry. Aren’t they beautiful?” She giggles when he squints at the grey canvas above them. 

“There are no clouds,” he says flatly. He turns his head, their eyes lock.

She swallows, and she’s the first to turn away. With a content sigh, she lets her eyes droop closed. Even without looking, she can feel the way his gaze lingers, like he might be waiting for something more. “You too,” it’s a gentle request, possibly an order. He’s never been able to deny her anything. 

“Alright then,” there’s an amused tone to his voice now. He breathes deeply, his own eyes closing as the air leaves his chest. 

They lay motionless for a comfortable few minutes. Things are quiet between them, and only nature’s melody that plays uninterrupted. 

The wind whistles, and the leaves on the trees dance along with crisp and breezy movements. As the air––which smells strongly of fall’s fiery allure––rubs against her skin and tickles the tip of her nose, another blissful smile leaves a pattern across her lips.

“What do you see?” she asks.

“Not much, honestly. My eyes are closed.” 

She punches his arm. “Don’t be an arse.”

He groans out in pain. “Fine then,” he concedes. “What do you see?”

The image is vivid in her head. “Purple clouds.”

He chuckles softly.

“What color is the grass?”

“Green, of course.”

“That’s boring,” he teases.

She huffs in annoyance. “Not everything needs changing, you know.” He doesn’t challenge it.

“And the sky?”

That’s her favorite part. 

“Tangerine.”

“That’s a fruit.”

“and a color.”

“Why can’t you just say orange?” 

“Because,” she starts in her best ‘you better listen to me or else’ tone. “Orange is a meh kind of color. But tangerine? It’s a bit more exciting.”

“Exciting,” he repeats slowly, as though he were testing the weight of the word on his tongue. 

When she opens her eyes, fully expecting him to be looking at her as though she had two heads, she’s surprised to see that his are still closed. She finds herself studying him. The way his chest steadily rises and falls with each even breath. He looks as calm as she feels at that moment. It’s then she can appreciate just how handsome he really is. Of course, she’s known it for a while (but she’d never tell him that).

So, she turns her head back towards the grey-washed sky and paints over its gloom with an image of their own. 

***

Right before he starts Year 13, Harry’s dad, Des, moves to Boston. Harry tries to act like it doesn’t bother him, but Y/n knows that he misses him a lot. Even though his parents have been separated for a long time, he’d at least had a good relationship with both of them. He and his dad would do “manly” things like fishing and batting at the cages. He keeps telling her that he’s fine, and it’s not like he’ll never visit him, but she can sense that something is troubling him. 

It takes a bit of finesse to get him to talk, and once he does, she immediately regrets it. 

“He wants me to follow him,” Harry says, scratching the back of his head. Y/n thinks she might throw up. Boston...America...it’s just so far away. The farthest she’s ever been is Italy on vacation. 

She stares at him apprehensively. “Do you...umm...do you want to go?” 

Harry doesn’t answer her at first. It takes to the count of five for him speak. “I don’t know. Probably not. I mean...it’s a lot to ask, don’t you think? He’s asking me to uproot my life here.” He gazes at her. “And I really like it here.”

She lets out the breath she’d been holding. She doesn’t think she’d be able to handle being that far from him. He’ll be starting University in the fall, and him going to London already feels too much. Goodbyes aren’t easy for her, and she doesn’t think they’ll ever get easier. 

“At least both parents want you,” she doesn’t realize what she’s saying until it’s up in the air. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...”

“No, it’s fine,” she shrugs him off. “It’s just, you’re lucky that both of them love you.”

Harry appears to think hard on this. “I love you.”

Her heart stops beating, her eyes double in size.

“What?” 

He reddens, and for once, she can’t tell what’s going through his head. His jaw juggles back and forth, and then he coughs like he’s got something stuck in his throat. He wipes a hand down his face. “I mean, you’re my best friend, of course I do.” 

Just as quickly as it had enlarged, something inside her deflates. “Oh, right,” she tries not to sound disappointed. It’s a little awkward now, but she’s at least comforted in the fact that he values her so much. She nudges her elbow against him. “Hey,” she quips.

He tilts his head.

“I love you too, doofus.” 

***

Y/n’s always thought her dad to be a kind and fair man.

Matthew Y/l/n doesn’t spoil his girls, but he also knows how to reward them for a job well done. He’s also one of those approachable dads, the ones you can talk to about a crush without him getting overly protective. From when she was eight and until now, he’s always been there for her and Ava, and for that, Y/n is forever grateful. 

Which is why she feels like she can discuss this one teensy little thing with him. Now, Y/n, she’s made up her mind about wanting to pursue a career as an artist. Some might say it’s insane! Risky! Financial suicide! But isn’t the threat of failure all the more reason to strive? She thinks so, and she just knows that her dad will too!

After dinner, which is when her dad is at his happiest. His belly is full of Nan’s roast, and he’s sitting next to Gramps on the couch while they watch sports. This is her chance. She’s already practiced on everyone else in the house, plus Penny and Harry, so she has a pretty solid plan on how to approach him.

“Hey, daddy,” she says sweetly, plopping between him and Gramps. He smiles at her and flings an arm around her shoulder. He returns his attention back to the telly. She gives Gramps a look, one so pleading that she thinks she might have just made him tear up, and he clears his throat and excuses himself. 

“I’ve, uh, got to take a shit.” And he stumbles into the hall, Nan’s snorting following closely behind. 

“So, dad, there’s something I actually want to talk about,” she starts, turning so she’s completely facing him. Matthew presses on the remote so that the screen is completely black. He prods her to continue. 

Y/n chuckles nervously. No big deal. “You know how I’m like crazy about my art? I mean, I’ve won three competitions in the last nine months!” 

“Of course, sweetheart. I’ve been telling everyone at work that my daughter’s an artist. You should’ve seen Anthony’s face when he found out you were the one who beat his boy out for the ribbon...”

“Yeah, thanks, Dad.” She can feel herself getting excited. “And I’m so proud that I get to make you proud. I mean, you’ve given me so much, I feel like it’s the least I can do.” On her lips is her most dazzling smile. 

He eyes her suspiciously. “Okay, I’m sensing something else going on here. Spit it out.”

“Well, it’s just that next year is my last year of college, and I’ll be applying to universities soon, so I was hoping that we could talk about me pursuing art.”

“Pursuing art, as in...?”

“Dad, I want to be an artist.” That wasn’t so bad, right? She can see her dad’s face waver in emotion. At first, he looks confused, then maybe a little unsure, but then he’s just unreadable. “Thoughts?” she presses.

“No.”

Had she just heard him right? “What?”

“No.”

“But, Dad–”

“There’s little to no security. The odds of you even making a decent living out of it are practically one in a million.”

“Wait, just hear me out first...”

“I’ve heard enough, Y/n. You’re not going to throw away an education on a hobby.” He sighs, and for a moment, he looks almost guilty. “Look, I’m not telling you to never paint again. I’m just saying that you need to approach this from a more realistic point of view. How about you major in something more reliable––like business or nursing––then minor in what you want?” He continues to ramble on about different prospects, but she’s completely drowned him out by now.

There’s a spot on the rug that’s suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. Where had she gone wrong? He’s never been so forceful with his decisions before. Had she overlooked a portion of her speech? 

“Mum loved art,” she whispers, but it’s just loud enough for him to hear.

Matthew stiffens at the mention of his estranged wife. “Your mother loved a lot of things. A lot more than she ever loved us.” And with that, he gets up and leaves.

***

“I think you should go for it,” she can always count on Harry to support her. 

She sighs, burying her face in his pillow. It smells of coconut and lavender. After her dad had walked out, she’d ran across the yard and had tackled Harry with a hug while he was taking out the trash. He’d given her some water (God knows how hysterical she’d been moments prior) before leading her up to his room so she could calm down.

“What if Dad’s right?” she mutters. “What if this really is just a hobby?” She suddenly feels herself being flipped onto her back, his legs straddling either side of her, his eyes boring into hers like lasers. Thoughts flash through her head, and it crosses her mind that he might actually kiss her. But he remains still.

“Look at me,” he says. “You’re amazing, and you know it. I know it. This whole damn town knows it. If there’s one person I know can make it as an artist, it’s you.”

While his words do encourage her, she’s far more concerned with how close he is. She nods in acknowledgement, and he flops next to her. Both of them stare at the ceiling. She wonders if he ever feels what she feels. 

“I got you something,” he says after a few minutes. He quickly turns and fishes for something under his bed.

“A present?” she doesn’t bother hiding the playfulness in her voice.

He kicks the side of her leg. “Grow up.”

“Can’t, I’m too excited.”

He pulls out a giftbag and hands it to her. “Saw this when I was out with Mum and well, it reminded me of you.” 

Peeking into the bag, she immediately smiles. “Is this...is this a frog?”

“Yeah, because remember when we first met? I gave you a–”

“Chocolate frog,” she finishes. It’s a plush toy the size of a basketball and its body is the same colors as their special world. Harry must’ve picked it out because of it. He’s always been thoughtful like that. It shouldn’t surprise her, but whenever he remembers these little things, she can’t help but feel weak at the knees. She and hugs her new frog to her chest. “It’s so cute! Oh, what should we name it?”

“Well, I feel like there’s only one appropriate name for it,” he winks.

“Kaleidoscope?” 

“That...that wasn’t even close to what I was going to say.”

She giggles, reaching over and bringing him in for a hug. “I’m just messing with you! We’ll obviously be calling him Freddo.” She sighs happily when his arms hold on to her tightly. Yeah, she likes his hugs a lot.

***

It’s the middle of March when Harry’s cousin comes to live with him. Jared is about his age, with the same shade of brown hair, only his is straight as opposed to Harry’s mess of wavy curls. Harry had told her that Jared’s mother (Anne’s sister, Sonya) had just passed away after her battle with cancer, and Y/n’s heart broke for the boy she barely knows. Similar to Penny’s situation, Jared’s dad isn’t in the picture. He’d left him and his mum before he was even born, and according to Harry, Jared’s always been very bitter about it.

Jared doesn’t leave his room much, only for school and for meals. Harry’s the only person he talks to because he wants to, not because he has to. They were practically like brothers before Jared had moved away, which Y/n is surprised to hear since she’s never heard of him before. But apparently when they were kids––way before Y/n moved in next door––Jared and his mum would always come over Harry’s house, and they’d play until one of them had to be forcibly dragged away. She had laughed when Harry had told her the story of how he and Jared had gotten stuck in the tree out back for five hours because the adults were so busy chatting inside.  

Sometimes Y/n will stop by and personally offer him some of Nan’s famous chocolate pie, and he’ll accept it only to give it to Harry once she leaves. Of course, she knows it’s nothing personal against her, it just makes her sad that she can’t help someone who is so important to her best friend. It’s hard for her to see Harry worry so much about him, and she really is trying her hardest to help him out. She doesn’t think Jared hates her, if anything, she always catches him staring at her in the halls when he thinks she doesn’t notice. That’s a promising sign, right?

“I happen to think he’s very good looking,” Penny tells her as they walk to Physics. “He kind of reminds of a young Leo.”

“You said the same thing about Harry last week,” Y/n giggles.

“They’re related, aren’t they? Maybe beautiful genes run in the family.”

Penny looks at her. “What do you think?”

She stares back at her. “About?”

“You know, Jared!” 

Y/n’s lips purse together. She hadn’t given him much thought, honestly. 

***

She’s glued to her sketchpad while sitting on the front lawn when she notices a shadow approach her. Not bothering to look up, she pats the spot beside her.

“Nan says that the pudding will be ready in ten,” she says. 

“That’s...cool.” That’s not Harry.

Tearing her eyes away from her latest drawing, she turns her head and sees the last person she expected. “Jared! Hi!” she squeaks.

He offers her a side grin. “Hey,” is all he says. He looks down into her lap. “You’re really good.”

“Oh, thank you.”

He rubs his hands on his jeans before settling them around his ankles. “Uh...do you mind if I sit here with you? You can say no, I was just feeling a little stuffed up in–”

“Of course! I love company!” she smiles broadly.

“I don’t know, you and that pencil were looking pretty cozy,” he suggests. She quirks a brow at him, but when the signs of a smirk begin to change the way his eyes gleam, she finally gets it.

“Jesus, that’s disgusting!” She doesn’t hesitate to slap him over the head. He sniggers in return but doesn’t say much more after that. Y/n continues to draw, but occasionally she’ll look up and catch him watching her. He immediately turns away, pretending to be busy with a blade of grass, or he’ll start whistling like it’s a sitcom.  

***

It doesn’t take long before Jared finally opens up to her. He’s funny––really funny, even though most of his humor is dirty––and is constantly finding ways to make Y/n laugh. She’s found that he does a nearly perfect impression of Austin Powers, and she enjoys it very much. There are also certain angles that really highlight how handsome he is. His eyes are a deep brown, almost the same shade as his hair. There are freckles evenly spread around his nose, almost as if they’d been specifically placed there. And oh, his lashes! They’re just as long as Harry’s, except maybe even fuller. She imagines what they would look like with a fresh coat of mascara. (She jokingly brought up the idea once, and to her delight, Jared says he wouldn’t mind it one bit.)

Harry seems happy that his cousin appears to be back to his old, goofball self. He’s definitely not as stressed over trying to get Jared out of his room as he had been in the immediate weeks after his Aunt Sonya’s death. Even Anne is starting to smile more. Losing her sister had been difficult for her, but Y/n admires how she had stepped up and took her nephew in without hesitance. She’s almost positive that that’s where Harry gets his selflessness from.

“Okay, real question, would you rather give up all desserts or all cheeses?” Jared asks. He always plays this game with her. She thinks it’s cute, sometimes even thought-provoking if she’s really into it. 

“Hmm, that’s a tricky one. Because what about–”

Both their eyes grow wide. “Cheesecake!”

Her head falls onto his shoulder as she laughs. She doesn’t see how Harry turns away. Although, sometimes she’ll notice how he’ll have this weird look in his eyes whenever the three of them are all hanging out together, but she thinks she’s just imagining it. 

***

When Penny tells her that Jared might like her, she doesn’t totally object to the idea.

***

A few days later, Jared kisses her. It’s one of those kisses that happen when you least expect it. She’s frozen in shock until his lips pull away. It’s strange, she likes the feeling, but something seems amiss. He looks at her nervously, like he’s afraid he’s done something completely wrong. But when she finally manages to get over that initial uncertainty, a grin slowly forms on her lips, and he’s kissing her again.

***

In two weeks’ time, she sees Harry snogging Penny outside his front door. She isn’t sure how to react, but she knows there’s this weird feeling inside of her that she doesn’t like.

***

Her and Harry haven’t spoken more than a few words to each other since they started dating other people. It’s not that she doesn’t want to talk to him, in fact, she really misses him. Saturday morning breakfasts just aren’t the same without him shuffling into the kitchen in his half-asleep state. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was going out of his way to avoid her. Penny says that maybe he’s just feeling awkward because her two best friends are dating. (It turns out Harry had been the guy she’d been pining over for years.)

Maybe that’s true, but shouldn’t that make it easier for them to find themselves in the same room? She’s happy that Penny’s finally happy! Things hadn’t worked out with her last two boyfriends because all they wanted was to take advantage of her. If there’s one thing she’s sure about, it’s that Harry would never cross any lines that Penny hadn’t invited him to cross.

When they’re in Harry’s car, she’ll catch glimpse of how Harry takes Penny’s hand over the console, or how she’ll feed him fries from their takeaway. It makes her happy to see them like this. Really, it does.

Jared is just as much a gentleman, too. They haven’t done anything past snogging, and she’s okay with that. She isn’t even sure she’s ready for that type of commitment. It’s not like she has this idealized fantasy about losing her virginity. She doesn’t expect it to happen in the same way as the movies, with candles and a bed full of rose petals, or any of that romantic stuff. If the time’s right, it’s right. All she wants is to make sure her heart’s a hundred and ten percent in it before she lets anyone in. She wonders if Penny and Harry have talked about going all the way.

“Yeah, we’ve talked about it.”

“Oh,” Y/n tries not to sound surprised. “And how did that go?”

Penny gives a noncommitted answer. “He says he’s willing to wait until I’m ready. But the thing is, I’m ready now!”

***

Penny loses her virginity soon after. Y/n is the first person she calls, and it’s a bunch of squealing and bragging about how perfect it all was. How gentle and attentive he’d been, and how she can’t wait to do it again. It takes everything in her to not hang up. She loves Penny to death, but some things––at least in her opinion––are left unsaid.

***

The first time she and Harry get to spend time together, as in just the two of them, is when Jared is stuck in bed with a cold, and Penny is out with her mum. It’s not exactly planned, in fact, she had only seen him from the living room window whilst helping Nan dust the mantel. Deciding she couldn’t let the opportunity pass, she drops the feather duster and runs out the front door.

“Hey, stranger,” she greets, but she doesn’t sit. It’s only now she sees the bottle of beer hanging between his fingers. He usually only drinks when he’s got something messing with his head. 

He nods at her, and gestures to the spot beside him. She sits, but it feels to calculated for them. Usually, she’d plop down, not caring if their knees would brush together. Now, she’s careful to leave at least a few inches between them. And she hates how awkward things feel between them. In a matter of months, they’d gone from being attached at the hip, to barely acquaintances. 

“So, what’s going on?”

He takes a sip from the bottle, his face twitching with disgust as he does so, then takes a deep breath. “Do you ever feel like things should be different?”

A sudden gust of wind lifts her hair over her shoulders. She doesn’t know if the goosebumps running down her spin are from that or the it’s from the magnitude of his question. “Different, how?”

His features soften when he finally looks at her. As in, really looks at her. It feels like so long since he’s done, that it takes her breath away. He doesn’t say anything yet, but she can see in his eyes that there’s something there. 

“Harry?” she whispers.

His eyes drop down to her lips, and he licks his own in reaction. Nothing seems to matter at that moment. If her mind had been juggling with thoughts before this, it isn’t now. All she can think about his him. How good it feels to be so close him, and how she wants to be closer. 

Then it hits her. Jared. She’s with Jared, and Harry’s with Penny. She’d been leaning into him, but now that she’s broken from his trance, she straightens up.

Harry brushes off his disappointment with another sip from his beer. His stare lands across the street, where a pair of children are chasing each other around a tree. He drops his head, his hand wrapping around the base of his neck.

“I’m leaving for Boston tomorrow.”

She nods slowly. “Visiting your dad?”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “Something like that.”

Finally, he stands up, then offers her his hand so she can too. He doesn’t let go right away, and she revels in how good it feels. She smiles down to where they’re holding each other, then stares into his green orbs. 

Pulling on her arm, she’s suddenly trapped in his embrace. She hugs him back, her hands sliding up to his shoulder blades and pinching his t-shirt between her fingers. It’s all a bit confusing, but she continues to cling to him. She feels his nose nudge the crown of her head before he lets go.

He turns around and doesn’t look back. 

She isn’t sure what just happened, but it feels a lot like goodbye.

*** Ten Years Later

“It doesn’t feel right,” she sighs. “I can’t be the only one who’s thinking it.” He shuffles in place, eyes scanning the room around them. “What do you suggest then?”

“Take this to the empty wall by the entrance, then move the Reynalda exhibit closer to the back. It’s our main attraction, we have to make people work for it.”

Angelo nods approvingly, and she calls a thank you out to him as he gets to work. Y/n watches the rest of her staff disperse into their allocated directions, and it’s then she can finally take a moment for herself. Sometimes she feels suffocated, but at the same time so hollow.

There are so many reasons why Y/n shouldn’t be feeling as empty as she does now. After all, her life is pretty damn close to perfect. She graduated university with high honors, she has a well-paying job as director of a prestigious art gallery, and she lives in a beautiful two-bedroom apartment with her adoring fiancé who she’s been with for the better part of a decade. 

She can’t pinpoint when exactly she realized that something had been missing, or maybe this feeling has always existed somewhere deep inside, and she’s just been really good at hiding it. The only person who knows about this internal battle is Ava, but Y/n doesn’t like to bother her too much since she’s busy with coursework, as well as her own problems that come with being nineteen and young. 

Of course, there’s Jared. Her love. Her rock. Her other half. She doesn’t know why can’t talk about this with him. Maybe it’s too much of girl problem, or maybe it’s just guilt. The last thing she wants him to think is that he’s not enough to fill this void in her life. If anything, he’d been able to pick up all her damaged pieces when she just couldn’t. He’s great, more than. She depends on him, and he’s never let her down. 

But if that’s true. Why can’t she just be honest?

***

“Right, I’m heading out now. I’ll see you–” he pauses, and she can see the concern overtake his features from the reflection of the blank television screen. He walks around their living room and kneels in front of her, his hands rubbing her lower thighs with every intention to soothe her. “What’s wrong?”

“I...I don’t really know,” she laughs, then shakes her head. “It’s silly, really. You go ahead. Go have fun with Sid.” It’s her best attempt at a smile, but it’s a weak one. 

He looks at her unsurely, like he’s debating if he should protest or not. She kisses him gently on the lips. 

“Go.” And she nudges him to his feet. Although she can tell he’s hesitant, he eventually concedes, leaning down for just one more peck to her forehead, then he’s out the door.

She needs to find a way to depress this strange feeling. It’s starting to affect too much of her life. A life that she enjoys, thank you very much.

Before she falls slave to her thoughts, she slumps into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of cabernet. Maybe it’s a far too generous portion, but is there ever such thing as too much wine? At least for tonight, the answer is no.

The alcohol burns her throat with its bitter sweetness, and she finds comfort in how it settles at the pit of her stomach. She breathes in deeply. This is just what she needs. It’s all in her head. Stress, probably. 

Just as she’s about to rewrap herself in her blanket, the front door opens and closes with a gentle thud. She swings around, brows curling in question as Jared slips off his coat leans against the nearest wall.

“Sid will understand. You’re the one who needs me tonight.” 

She leans against the arm of the couch, a moved smile playing at her lips because, wow. How did she get so lucky?

***

“I found another grey hair this morning,” Jared says. “Is this what getting old feels like?”

She runs her fingers through his hair. “You’re twenty-eight, Jae. And besides, silver foxes are pretty sexy.” 

“I guess I’m a bit of a Clooney.” And he wags his brows suggestively. If he’s trying to come onto her, it’s not exactly working, but she’s also not completely turned off. This is why they’re good together. After all these years he still knows how to make her laugh.

They’re about a quarter though their takeaway (and she’s so touched that Jared decided to stay home that she doesn’t even say anything about the pork fried rice) when their doorbell sounds.

“I got it, hun,” he says, placing his plate on the coffee table, and grabbing a napkin before greeting the unexpected guest.

Y/n is pleasantly surprised when Penelope falls into the seat beside her. She looks dressed for a date, but the way she blows ferociously into the air, Y/n knows that things haven’t gone her way.

Without asking, Penny helps herself to their food, moaning as she stuffs a spoonful of that same fried rice into her mouth. “If I wasn’t wearing this dress, I would a hundred percent finish this whole thing.”

“You can borrow some clothes,” Y/n offers. Her friend pretends to contemplate, but she’s the first one to stride over into the master bedroom. 

Y/n pulls out a fresh pair of pajamas, and when she turns around, her mouth quirks in a mixture of amusement and suspicion. Under Penny’s dress is the daintiest set of red lace lingerie she’s ever seen. (And she has her fair share of lingerie since she knows it drives Jared wild.)

“Looks like you were in for a sexier evening,” she muses. She tosses Penny the set.

Her friend rolls her eyes. “I’ll make sure he knows what he’s missing,” she says. Y/n isn’t quite sure what she means by it, but smirks, nonetheless.  

“Now...” Penny pulls her hair through the hem of the borrowed shirt, “let’s finish off that food, shall we?”

Jared doesn’t say anything when they get back, either too consumed with his egg rolls or not wanting to interject himself into the conversation. Y/n simply kisses him on the cheek as she settles back into her meal. 

She glances at Penny for a moment, and her curiosity becomes overpowering. “Okay, so I wasn’t going to ask, but I feel like I have to now,” she explains. Penny cocks a brow at her. “What happened tonight.”

“He cancelled last minute. I was already at the damn restaurant when he texted saying something came up.” She stabs a piece of orange chicken. “It’s a bunch of bullocks if you ask me.” Typical Penny. It wouldn’t be fair to say that her friend is prone to trust issues, but it does take a little more effort. Ever since Harry had broken up with her back when they were seventeen, she hasn’t kept a relationship for more than a few weeks because she claims she doesn’t want to risk getting her heart broken again.

Harry Styles had broken her best friend’s heart, then disappeared to another country. Y/n hates him for that. She hates that he threw away all those years of friendship without a proper explanation. She hates that he abandoned her, especially when he knew how insecure she is about goodbyes. 

But not every guy is Harry. There are good ones that will stick by you no matter what, like Jared. Y/n reaches over and brushes his bangs away from his eyes. Penny just needs to find her person, and Y/n just knows that once she does, she’ll finally feel right.

“This is that Ahmed guy from the gym, right? I don’t know, Pen. He’s a decent bloke. Maybe something really did happen.”

Penny pulls a face, like she’s just oversaturated her food with soy sauce. “Wouldn’t hold my breath. He’s got baggage, and he won’t accept that he isn’t happy to carry it anymore.”

That last bit sticks to her. 

***

Her job requires her to have both a deep appreciation for art and a mind for marketing strategy. It had been the closest compromise that she and her father had come to when she had started her plight for a degree. 

After spending the last of her year of secondary school having second thoughts about the plausibility of making it in the art world, she decided that maybe her dad was right, after all. He would tell her to be in charge, to take control of her life. That way, she’d never be blindsided by anything. She’s still around the world she loves––the canvas, the acrylics, the community of dreamers who share their passion with the world––just from a more business perspective. The more she reflects on those naïve teenage years, the more she appreciates the direction she’d took. She has the best of both worlds, in her opinion. A steady income, and a building full of paintings and sculptures and history. What more can she ask for?

“Y/n!” She looks over her shoulder, where Angelo, her assistant, waves some a sizeable file in his hands. He gives her a knowing smirk.

“Good news?” she teases.

Angelo hands her the file. “Sales report can confirm.”

She glosses it over, satisfied with the numbers. Looks like she’d inherited more from her dad than just his advice. “And they said Expressionism was dead.” Their last grand showcase had been an ode to the German Expressionism movement. They had drawn criticism in the days leading up to the event because some saw it as outdated. But that’s just ridiculous. Art is art. And while history remains in the past, it doesn’t mean that it can’t be appreciated. Y/n’s vision for the gallery is embrace both the old and the new.

“Degenerates,” Angelo rolls his eyes. “Anyway, Dax, Narsi, and I are thinking Damond’s for lunch. You in?”

She looks down at her watch, and curses under her breath. “Can’t,” she sighs. “I have to interview the new curator in a bit.”

“You work too much,” he says humorously, but they both know there’s truth stitched into his words. He gives a friendly squeeze to her elbow. “Bring you back sandwich?” 

“Please,” she smiles. He gives her a mock salute before turning on his heel. 

When he’s completely out of sight, she lets her lips fall into a frown. She examines her watch again, there’s still a few minutes until their scheduled virtual call. She uses the time to stroll the halls, something she doesn’t really get to do. Well, not for fun, at least. 

Things are currently in transition, and all of the Maximalism works are finding their way onto her walls. She stops in front of one in particular that just screams color. With its carefully planned, yet freeing mixture of patterns and textures, it’s a piece to tickle the brain. 

“It’s beautiful.” Her eyes widen. That voice. She feels everything from her body to her unsuspecting heart freeze.

Her grip on her own arm tightens painfully. She thinks she might turn blue from her inability to breathe at this moment. 

“I’ve always liked how much of the artist we can feel. It really captures the complexity of character.”

She bites the inside of her cheek. “I agree.” She risks all and looks up, and he’s right there waiting for her. Harry. Her arms drop to her side as she feels herself grow weak.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Hi,” he whispers, then smiles. That smile. She had tried so hard not to think about how it had once been her favorite image. His dimples have caved in deeper, if that’s even possible. And his eyes, they’re the same brilliant green she remembers. “I saw an ad in the paper and thought I’d check it out.”

Something must be strangling her vocal cords because she finds that she’s unable to make a sound. 

***

“And what did you do?” 

Y/n drops her head to the table, not even caring if it’s dirty. With the day she’s had, it’s the least of her problems. “I was in shock! I-I think I might have screamed at him.” 

Ava snorts into her drink. 

There’s not much about earlier that she can clearly recall, but she does remember how she had fled to her car and driven halfway across the city to her sister’s dorm and dragged her to the nearest pub. Why? Because she couldn’t think of anything else to do.

“Why would he just...show up?” she questions. “It makes no sense!”

“Probably got homesick,” Ava shrugs. “Plus, Dad says it’s been in the work–”

“Wait,” Y/n’s head snaps towards her. “Dad knows?”

The younger woman looks at her as if she were insane. “Duh, he’s the one that approved the transfer.”

“But why am I only hearing about this now?” She feels herself heating up with annoyance, anger, and something else that makes her want to pull her hair out. Ava doesn’t respond right away. She looks down at her now empty drink and watches as the ice cubes into water. 

“Well,” she starts, still not bothering to meet her eyes, “ever since he left, he’s been a bit of a taboo subject for you.” 

Her jaw tenses at that, and she sits back in her chair. That’s a bit of an overstatement. Y/n had reacted the way any person would have if put in her situation. She huffs with frustration. “So, what else is everyone hiding from me?”

“This isn’t an intervention, enough with the dramatics,” Ava says.

Y/n’s lips form into a straight line. She looks over the bar and tuts her tongue. “I need another drink,” she mutters. “Where the heck is Penny? She’s supposed to be working tonight.”

***

After Ava had started going to school in the city, her dad had decided to move into the London office full-time in order to be closer to both his girls. And lucky for Y/n, he’s just close enough to get information out of. She visits her dad during her lunch break because she needs answers.

“Dad, we need to talk,” she demands, bursting through his office door without any regard for just about anything. “Explain to me why...”

Matthew Y/l/n tilts his head at her with a raised brow, and the person sitting on the opposite side of his desk has an expression to match.

“Perfect,” she sneers. “We’re all here, then.”

She nearly loses it when Harry choke down a laugh while getting up and offering her his now empty seat. She takes it, but not before she glares at him and his stupid face. 

Her dad looks like he’s been caught in a crossfire, and he calculatingly smooths down his perfectly ironed tie. Harry takes the seat beside hers, except he makes a point to pull it a few inches away.

“So...” her dad practically sings. “Harry’s back!”

“I can see that.” From the corner of her eye, she sees a smirk. “Why are you even here?” 

Harry doesn’t seem offended despite the harsh nature of her tone. He chances a glance at her dad before turning to her. “Work,” is his first answer. He bounces one leg over the other and leans back against the back the seat. His expression softens. “But I guess I just really missed home.”

She thinks that’s bullshit. No decent person would leave everything behind without a second thought. “It took you ten years?”

“I did what I had to do,” he retorts.

“And that was to just disappear?” 

“This isn’t really the place nor time...”

“Then why bother coming back!"

That manages to crack Harry’s calm demeanor. He looks at her as if she had knocked the wind from his lungs. At this point her chest is heaving, as well. She forgets where they are and that her dad is a witness to this outburst. 

“I, uh,” they both turn to Matthew as he tries to find the words to appease the situation. “I was thinking we could all go out for dinner later?” He’s joking, right? He smiles as her, but with that ‘I’m your father and you don’t have much of a say in this’ look in his eyes. “How about you and Jared meet us around...say, seven? Hey, you know what? Bring Penelope, too!”

“Pen–”

Matthew swivels in his chair and practically hops to his feet. He leans down and kisses Y/n on the head. “Got to get to a meeting. I’ll see you later.” And with that, he’s gone. It leaves her alone with the person she wants nothing more than to get away from.

She doesn’t understand what’s happening to her. There are so many things she feels bombarding her all at once and there’s not one thing she can make sense of. Harry doesn’t say anything. Instead, he’s typing something on his phone. His lips are quirked up in an almost-grin, and she can’t help but feel miffed that he has the audacity to pull such a face in her presence when all she can do is glower. 

“I guess we’ll talk later?” he suddenly says. He slips his phone into his pants pocket. She crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. Like her dad had done, he gets up and starts towards the door. But before she can even hear it graze against the carpeting, he mutters one last thing. “Congratulations on the engagement.”

Her dress squeaks loudly against the leather of her seat because she must have turned too quickly. Their eyes meet, his are difficult to read.

***

“...and I’ve been trying to look for a flat, but the boss works me too hard,” Harry smirks over at Matthew. Her dad lets out a hearty chuckle as he finishes off the last of dessert.

“Well, if you’re really that overworked, it’s not at all obvious,” Penny says with a saucy smile. “Definitely still a catch.” She touches his arm, and Y/n digs her nails into her palm because it makes her feel sick. It’s ridiculous that she’s so bothered by how quickly conversation had flowed between Harry and Penelope. 

Jared has an arm around the back of her chair. He looks bored with the conversation. She can’t tell if he’s irked at Harry (in the same way she is) or because he sees how much her dad likes him. That’s not to say that Jared isn’t well liked by Matthew. He did get his blessing to propose, after all. Yeah, they’ve been engaged for a while now. But so, what? Long engagements are common enough, and it does allow the two participants to fully get to know one another, as well as get close to the important people in their lives. Things just aren’t as smooth between her dad and Jared as she would like, but she supposes that’ll ease over with time. 

“I wouldn’t let my current appearance fool you,” Harry snorts.

“Is that a challenge?” Penny bats her lashes at him. 

Y/n can’t take it anymore. “So!” she interrupts, “Pen, didn’t you go out with that Vogue photographer last night?

Her friend gives her an odd look, but when she sees the rest of the table’s eyes on her, she waves it off. “Oh, yeah. But it didn’t end how I would’ve liked.” She gestures between her legs. “He had a little trouble getting it up.” 

“Penelope Swanton,” Matthew warns, as if she might give him a heart attack. “Parental unit sitting right here.”

Everyone shares a laugh except for Y/n and Jared. The latter just stares at the tablecloth with vague intensity. It’s strange that he hasn’t made a quip all night. He’s usually the one who talks the most...well, besides Penny. 

“Maybe pretty girls scare him,” Harry chuckles. “It happens to the best of us.”

A mischievous glint sparkles in Penny’s eyes. “Do I scare you, Harry?” 

“COFFEE!” Y/n all but screams. “We should order coffee!” She can’t just sit there and watch her friend make the same mistakes all over again. It would be a serious miscarriage of justice is she were to let that happen. 

But she can only stall for so long, and before she knows it, they’re all making their way out of the restaurant. It’s that awkward phase of standing outside and making small talk before someone has the balls to leave. Harry offers Penny a ride, and Y/n has to watch as they get into his car, laughing like he hadn’t broken her heart all those years ago. 

Jared still seems to be in a mood as well, but he plays it off and tells her he’s got a stomachache from the scallops he had as an appetizer. She rubs his back as they wait for the valet to bring their car around, glaring at Harry’s taillights before he turns onto the road. 

***

Y/n manages to not think about Harry for a few weeks. With the newest exhibit opening up, it’s kept her body and mind busy. By the time she gets home, she’s tired and all she wants is to put her feet up and watch reruns of Downton Abbey.

The doorbell rings, and she can’t help but groan because she was just getting comfortable. She looks through the peephole, then shakes her head knowingly. She pulls the door open.

“Don’t you have work?” she asks playfully, but she wishes she could take it back when she sees the broken look painted across Penny’s face. “Oh my god, are you alright?” She guides her friend into the apartment and sits her down on the couch.

Penny suddenly bursts into tears, her face falling into her hands as though she were hiding her shame. Not wanting to distress her further, Y/n gathers her in her arms and lets her cry it out. They’ve been through a lot together, and in all their years of friendship, she’s never seen her look so somber as she does now.  

She strokes her hair, whispering her reassurance even though she’s left in the dark. Penny breaks from her hug and wipes her eyes with her knuckles before looking at her with misty eyes. “I’m...” but she starts blubbering, and nothing coherent can be understood. Y/n waits patiently until she can speak. “I’m pregnant.” 

Y/n feels the color drain from her face while her head fills worry. She can’t decide who she’s worried more about, Penny or her baby. Penny is an adult is capable of making her own decisions, but she can also be reckless. She can barely pay her rent on time and her work schedule isn’t the best either. A baby would mean growing up, but Y/n knows that Penny’s still trying to figure things out. 

Then, the inevitable question bubbles in her throat. “How far along?” Penny sniffles. “About six weeks.”

Y/n feels awful that the first thing she feels is relief. Not Harry’s. “And the father?” 

“I can’t tell him,” Penny cries, she lays her head in Y/n’s lap. “He’s...he has a...” She doesn’t need to finish that sentence for Y/n to understand.

“Penny...” her tone is every bit of disappointed. 

***

She accompanied Penny to her first appointment to the OB-GYN this morning, and the sound of the baby’s heartbeat had been enough to drive both women to tears. It was beautiful, and the look in Penny’s eyes said all that they could. Sure, Y/n had worried about her when she first learned of the pregnancy, but that had immediately changed with just that one look. 

One day, Y/n hopes to have children of her own. She and Jared have opened up the topic a few times, but they never seem to be on the same page when it comes to starting a family. He claims it’s because his job’s hours are too crazy to juggle an infant. He’s the physical therapist for the National Football team, which means he has to go with them on away games. Deep down, however, Y/n thinks he’s afraid that he’ll end up the way his father did. She wants to tell him that’s ridiculous, but she always has to walk on eggshells about that. 

It’s okay, though. Until she and Jared can come to an agreement, she has no qualms over spoiling her new niece or nephew. Auntie Y/n. She likes the sound of that. So much, in fact, that she finds herself outside of a baby boutique on the high street. She wonders if Penny will be having a boy or a girl. 

“So cute!” she smiles to herself when she sees all the onesies on the mini mannequins. Would it be too early to plan Penny’s baby shower? She’s so lost in hypothetical party planning that she doesn’t notice see body before they collide, and warm liquid misses her shoes by mere centimeters. 

“I’m so sorry!” she rushes out an apology. There’s an unflattering brown stain on his otherwise perfect white button-up. She grabs for her wallet in her purse, hoping to at least pay for the damages, but stops when she gets a good look at him.

“You.” 

The world must really have it out for her. Harry looks down at his tainted shirt. “Nice seeing you too.” 

“Sorry,” she says again. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Head in the clouds?” he muses, shaking his sleeve of the last remaining drops of coffee.

She smiles tightly. “Just window shopping.”

He looks at the store in front of them, and his head snaps towards her. “Are you...?”

“No,” she replies immediately. “A friend of mine.”

For some reason, his shoulders seem to relax. He’s still incredibly handsome, though she never doubted that that would ever change. Under his wet shirt, she notices a sizeable few tattoos inked onto his chest. The sight intrigues her, and she has to stop herself from reaching out and tracing them with her finger. 

“Let me pay for your dry-cleaning,” she says, tearing her eyes away from his body. 

Harry shakes his head. “There’s no need, honestly. Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?” She really doesn’t want to be in his debt. “I’d feel better if I could make it up to you somehow.”

“No, really. It’s fine.” Why is he so stubborn?

“I insist.” 

He studies her for a moment. She imagines that she can see the gears turning as he thinks. 

“I’m actually on my way to a viewing, and well...I’m not really sure what to look for.”

She replays his words in her head. “So, you want me to...help you pick out an apartment?” That can’t be right.

“My car’s just over there,” he points with his chin. “What do you say?”

Alarms are sounding in her head, each one screaming a different command between her ears. A part of her is saying it’s a bad idea, that she should stand her ground and stay mad at him because of what he had done. On the other hand, the rest of her––the biggest part of her––wants to indulge in the feeling she has when she’s with him. It’s a crazy mix of fury and joy that isn’t entirely unbearable. 

“Fine,” she concedes, and she brushes past him and starts towards his car. “But only because I feel bad about the shirt.” She doesn’t dare look back. She slides into the passenger seat and buckles herself in. Her stomach is doing cartwheels beneath her high-waisted pants. 

Harry gets into the driver’s seat but doesn’t start the engine right away. He pulls his jacket off and places it neatly on the console. What he does next makes her regret getting out of bed this morning. Her mouth dries as he undoes every button of his shirt and reveals the tattoos she’d been fantasizing about earlier.

“Do-do you mind?” She feels her cheeks heat up, and she turns to the window in hopes to find a distraction. 

“Well, I’m not going to talk business looking like I’ve just been bullied by a barista.”

“That’s completely beside the point!” 

“Well, you can look now, Mother Teresa,” he says smugly. She hesitantly cranes her neck back. He’s now sporting a similar shirt, but this time, it’s dark grey. “See?”

She huffs, then mutters something under her breath. He smiles at her, like he’s just dying to tease her, but ultimately decides not to. She just glares straight ahead.

“Just drive the damn car.”

***

“And this unit is complete with its own balcony which overlooks the Thames,” Mariette, Harry’s real-estate agent says to the both of them. “It sets the mood nicely, don’t you think? And it happens to be very popular with our younger couples.” She sends them a not-so-subtle wink. 

Y/n feels herself flush, and she ducks into the kitchen and pretends to inspect the marble countertop. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Harry says. He doesn’t seem to be paying that much attention, or if he is, he’s really good at hiding his own embarrassment. Y/n wonders if he’s just humoring the over-zealous agent. After all, he was never the type to correct someone over silly little details. 

Mariette tells them to walk around, get a feel for the place, before excusing herself to make a phone call. Y/n follows Harry up the stairs where all the bedrooms are. There are three, and the master bedroom has its own ensuite toilet and bath.

“What do you think?” Harry asks her.

She glances at the view from the window. It’s beautiful, gorgeous even. The building itself is in one of the nicer parts of town, where the congested London traffic wouldn’t take away from its overall aura. She can already picture him spending the mornings on the balcony with a cup of tea and a book or passed out on a king-sized mattress in the bedroom after a long day of work.

“It’s nice,” she answers truthfully. “But it doesn’t matter what I think.”

Harry looks at her like she’s spewing nonsense. “I asked for your input, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did. But at the end of the day, it’s your home. Not mine. You might not even stay around long enough to enjoy it.” The look on his face when she lets that last part slip out makes her wish she had just shut her mouth. She leaves him in the bedroom and heads into the hall. She needs to get away. Why couldn’t she have just given him a simple answer? Why does she continue to open up old wounds that she knows she’ll never be able to close? 

Before she can get far, however, his fingers curl around her shoulder. He swallows thickly behind her. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. Until now, he hadn’t apologized. She hadn’t expected him to, and now she isn’t sure how to take it. This should vindicate her, but all she wants to do is curl up and close herself off from the world, even for a little while.

She looks down to her feet, and as though on cue, her eyes begin to fill with tears. Her hand quickly lands on her mouth to muffle a sob.

He turns her towards him, holding her by the waist. In a split-second, she’s wrapped in his arms. She tries to pull away, but her body is too unwilling to lose his familiar warmth. 

“Why didn’t you say goodbye?” she whimpers against his shirt.

His chest heaves. “Because if I did, I’d never be able to leave.” His words shake her.

She pulls away slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. “But what about me?” she asks. “Harry, you were my best friend, and you just treated me like I meant nothing to you.” It made her feel like nothing. Apparently, she’s an easy person to leave behind. First it was her mother, then the person she trusted most. She couldn’t tell you which had broken her more.

“I never wanted to hurt you.” 

Scoffing, “A bit late for that, no?”

“Then let me make it up to you,” his plea is coated with desperation. Every bit of him shines with sincerity that she wishes she could ignore. His touch burns her through her clothes like blue flames. Body and mind are rekindling, and now that she remembers what it feels like to be close to him, she can’t see a version of herself that doesn’t want him back in her life.

“I don’t know if I believe in second chances,” she says softly. His grip on her loosens substantially, and there’s a sudden fear that he’ll let go. “But,” she continues, “you’ll be my first.”

It’s a bone-crushing, heart-enlarging hug, and it leaves her feeling happier than she’s felt in a long time.

***

They’re not the same two kids who would spend every waking moment together, but this is the closest they’ll ever get in adult life.

Harry visits her on her lunch breaks and lets her bounce marketing strategies off of him whilst they walk the gallery. Just like her dad, he has a well-versed business mind. It feels good to be able to talk to him again. It’s like a part of herself has risen after years of sleep and is finally seeing the light of day. Under the fancy suits and numerous tattoos, he’s still the same guy who can listen to her talk for hours without fail.

She’s even had him over for dinner at her and Jared’s place. At first, she was afraid that things would be tense between the two of them, after all, Jared hadn’t talked much during their dinner nearly a month back. To her delight, however, they seemed to pick up where they left off, and spent majority of the night talking sports and all that ‘man’ talk that she can never be bothered to understand. 

If a month ago she had felt empty, she can proudly admit that she’s starting to fill up.

***

When Penny announces that the baby is a girl, Y/n is probably the most excited. She visits the baby boutique she’d been browsing some days ago and buys a rubber duckie onesie with a matching headband, along with four other matching sets.

“You really shouldn’t have to go through all the trouble,” Penny scolds her.

Y/n waves her off. There shouldn’t be any of that nonsense. She likes being able to spoil her best friend’s future child. “I want to. Just humor me, okay? I’m aiming for Auntie of the Year.” She lays all the rest of the outfits on Penny’s sofa.

“It’s true,” Harry adds. “She’s already had the bib made.” Y/n flips him off but is far too delighted by all the pretty patterns to come up with a proper retort. Rather, she tries to sweep Penny into conversation about a real baby shower (and not just the one she’d planned in her head), discussing potential guests and a wish list that she should start setting up on Amazon.

Jared and Penny give each other a look, and the way the former’s jaw tenses doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry but completely goes over Y/n’s head.  

***

“Why don’t you put any of your own work on display?” Harry asks her one day.

“Honestly?” she sighs, “I haven’t actually made anything in...well, almost a decade.”

His jaw drops. “I don’t think I heard you right, a decade?” 

The same amount of time you’ve been gone, she thinks to herself. Of course, now that they’re back to being friends, she would never say it out loud. 

***

Nan had called her up and asked if she and Ava would drive up to Holmes Chapel and help her sort out all the things to donate. They try to visit their grandparents every few months because they are getting to the age where they won’t be around for long. Although, Nan will tell anyone with ears that she’s stronger than she was in her twenties due to her weekly spin classes at the community center. Meanwhile, Gramps is still the same as ever. He still sits in front of the TV and watches highlights of games he’s got recorded on the DV-R, and accidentally knocks over Nan’s petunia’s when he backs the car out of the garage. 

Her childhood bedroom is also how she had left it. Sure, her teenage years had called for a bit of renovation, but underneath posters of her favorite actors and boy bands are the youthful stickers Nan had put up when they had first arrived. 

She rummages through her closet, throwing old clothes in good condition into her donation basket. There are even some that were never worn, and she debates whether she’d be able to use any of it, but ultimately decides against it.  

The top shelf is full of empty shoe boxes and other things she had carelessly thrown up there. Her old sketchbook falls open, face down, at her feet. 

She picks it up and is greeted by the same sketch that had won her first prize in the art show all those years ago when she was fifteen. Her fingers graze over the pencil lines, and it’s like being reacquainted with an old friend. She had spent months on this one drawing, and it had turned out to be her greatest piece to date (the actual painting is still being preserved at the school).

“You know, I always thought that boy looked like Anne’s boy,” Nan says nonchalantly. Y/n hadn’t even heard her come in. 

“What?” Y/n stares intently at the paper. “You think so?”

Ava practically skips in. “Oh, gossiping, are we?” She sounds just like Nan. Y/n can’t help the roll of her eyes. 

“I was just telling your sister about how that painting of hers up at the school looks a lot like Harry.”

“Is it not supposed to?” Ava seems genuinely confused. 

“I mean...it wasn’t actually based on anyone in particular,” Y/n says, feeling the need to defend herself. “It was just...something I envisioned in my head.” She turns back to her closet, leaving Nan and Ava to carry on their conversation on her bed. 

Reaching her arm up high, she feels around the shelf until she pokes something soft. When she brings it down, she can’t help but grin. Freddo. She had almost forgotten about him. After Harry had left, she had gone on a bit of a rampage, and any reminder of him had fallen victim to the trash or banishment to the top shelf.

Nan must notice her smile because she comes up and cradles her from behind and rests her chin on her shoulder. “It’s funny,” she says, and Y/n looks back at her expectantly. “I also thought that you two would end up together, but I guess I was off by a bit, huh?” She kisses Y/n on the cheek and calls for Ava to follow her downstairs.

Y/n stares at the toy as though it held some sort of secret.

***

She’s lucky she’s home by herself––Jared is off at the pub for his and Sid’s weekly meet-up––because now she has time to unwind and be as antisocial as she wants. Work had been stressful, mostly because the exhibit is set to open next week. And really, all she wants is to be under her favorite blanket with a cup of hot chocolate and just be dead to the world.

Even though she thinks that, however, she can’t help but tap on her phone screen every few minutes. Sure, she likes the time alone, but she also likes being needed. Ava says it’s a control thing, but she really just prefers to be in the know. Lately, Penny’s been spamming her with messages and phone calls about the baby or sometimes it’ll be for a little reassurance. Of course, she’s more than happy to support her. It’s brave of Penny to tackle this alone. The baby’s father is completely out of bounds, so she’s told, and Penny says she’d rather her baby grow up with just a mother than in some dysfunctional setup.

Speaking of dysfunction, she hasn’t been able to properly think straight ever since her visit with Nan. What the elderly woman had told her hadn’t exactly shocked her, per say, but it did have her rethink some of the interactions between her and Harry. It’s ridiculous, really. They’d been best friends since she was eight and he was nine. They know each other’s ins and outs, likes and dislikes, what makes the other laugh and cry. They’re simply comfortable. 

Okay. Maybe there had been times where she thought that the possibility of something more was on the table, but that quickly proved to be all in her imagination. She had her boyfriends and he had his girlfriends. She fell in love with his cousin, and he dated her other best friend. Then he left town.

Then he left.

***

Abandoning her original plans for the night, Y/n finds herself at his door. 

“Hey,” he greets her, but his warm smile falters when he takes note of her appearance. “What’s with the look? Are you okay?” She doesn’t answer, she’s too taken by the image of him and the way her heart feels like it might burst from her chest to comprise a full sentence. He doesn’t push her, though. He fishes into the pocket of his sweats and pulls out a shapely object wrapped in purple foil. “I-uh, I don’t eat chocolate that much anymore, but they don’t have these in America, so I’ve been snacking on a few of these a week.” It lands itself in her hand. “Just like when we were kids, right?”

It’s a Freddo. A fucking Freddo. Her fingers curl around it.

“You once asked me if I thought that things should’ve been different,” she says. “What did you mean by that?”

Harry doesn’t answer. She tries again.

“Why did you leave, Harry?"

“It’s been so long, I don’t even remember.”

“Don’t lie to me.” She takes one step closer. He evades her eyes, like he’s afraid they’ll speak on their own. Her stomach tightens because it’s all starting to make sense. His words. That embrace. These feelings that have always existed between them. “You left because of me.”

It’s not a question, but a sure statement. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. She slides a hand up to his cheek, forcing him to look at her. When he finally does, she’s sees it. And her gut says it’s not the first time. 

It’s heartache. 

She knows because she sees it every time she looks in the mirror. It’s taken her this long to realize it. That hollow feeling that’s been consuming her, it disappeared the day Harry Styles walked back into her life. Once the anger over what he’d done had subsided, she’s felt nothing but joy since. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She wants to scream. 

“You made him happy,” is all he says, almost regretfully. “I couldn’t take that away from him.”

“So, you didn’t even consider how I felt? Harry, I would’ve...would’ve–”

“And that’s why I had to leave!” He wipes both hands down his face in frustration. “We would’ve ended up hurting two people we cared too much about.”

“You don’t know that–”

“If I had tried to kiss you that night, would you have let me?” His gaze bores into her. 

Yes. The voice within her screams it over and over. He must already know her answer because he just smiles sadly at the floor. This is why he had done it. He knew that if he had stayed any longer, it would have only been a matter of time before they gave into each other. 

It makes her sick. 

“I figured if I just took myself out the equation, the rest of you would be spared the heartbreak.” He sighs. “And it worked. You and Jared are about to start a life together, Penny’s got her baby. You’re happy.”

She wants to counter him, but she can’t find the strength. “What about you?” she whispers instead.

He tilts his head to the side. “I came back to prove to myself that I could be happy for you.” His jaw slackens, and he doesn’t continue.

She’s toe to toe with him. “And are you?”

The next thing she knows, her back is against the wall, and her fingers are tangled in his hair. His lips feed her, makes her blood come alive like she’s never lived until now. She kisses him with everything she has. Every drop of anger and every ounce of emotion that burns through her veins. His hands keep her body as close to his as possible, yet, they feel so gentle as they caress her curves like she’s made of glass. It feels so right.

And it shouldn’t. 

Just as sudden as it had started, she pushes him away. He doesn’t fight her. Without another word, she leaves his apartment.

*** When she makes it home, Jared is about to get ready for bed. She drops her clothes to the floor, and his soon follow. They fall onto the bed, his teeth gnawing down her jaw while his hand slides down to cup her heat. He asks her if she’s ready once his member is nudged against her opening. She nods, and he pushes into her, just as he’s done many times before.

She tries her best to focus on how good this should feel to have him inside of her, but the more he moves, the more she feels like this is all a mistake. It feels all too similar to when she had given him her virginity. It happened the night after Harry had skipped town. She was upset and wanted to feel something aside from the pain he had caused her. Jared had been there, and things had soon escalated. But it didn’t feel right. Her heart wasn’t in it, and so her body couldn’t give itself the relief it had been searching for.

It hasn’t felt like that since, or maybe she had gotten better at hiding it, just as she’s done with everything else. She had hoped that sex with Jared would put her mind and her heart back into perspective, but instead, she feels even more helpless.

One kiss with Harry had meant more to her than any of this. It fills her with shame because shouldn’t want to be with anyone except Jared, especially when all he’s ever done is love her. 

She doesn’t realize it’s over until he rolls off her with a content sigh, then stumbles into the bathroom. He closes the door behind him, and it’s then she feels the tears start to fill the rim of her eyes. Her thighs clasp together as her humiliation fully sets in. She turns on her side and covers her naked body with the blanket that had been pushed to the foot of the bed. Jared returns minutes later, mumbling a goodnight. If he has something else to say, he doesn’t. It takes to the count of five for him to drift to sleep. 

***

“I need to cancel the engagement,” she says. Ava gives her a circumspect shrug of the shoulders, like she’s trying not to say the wrong thing. Y/n turns to her, hands twiddling the fingers in her lap from stress. “What do you think I should do?”

Ava looks at her, the pity is obvious on her face. “I don’t know, sis.” She rubs her back. “Are you going to tell Jared about you and Harry?”

“I have to.”

***

She doesn’t have the opportunity to talk to Jared until the night of the exhibit opening since he’d been in Spain on a team trip. It’s eating her up, how she hasn’t told him yet, but at least by the end of today she’ll no longer be holding on to something so big. He had promised to come straight to the gallery once he landed back at Heathrow. His flight was set to get in two hours ago, so it’s only a matter of time now. 

More and more people are starting to fill the floor. Most are patrons whom she sees frequently at these events, but there are some new faces mixed in the crowd. She’s lucky that Ava and her grandparents are here to support her, especially when she’ll probably need them afterwards. 

“Hey, don’t look so nervous,” Nan tells her. “The place looks great. You know, I overheard that guy in the red Chanel that he’s interested in buying.” Bless her, Y/n thinks. Nan’s always had a way of diffusing the tension, even when she isn’t aware of it. 

“I’m happy you guys are here,” Y/n says, and she brings her friend in for a hug. 

Nan gives her a confused smile. “Of course, we’re here. We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she proudly declares, and she elbows Gramps in the ribs when he doesn’t contribute. “Honestly, try to look a little alive.”

“I put on a tie, didn’t I?” Gramps rolls his eyes, but then he sends Y/n a wink.  

“Where’s Penelope this evening?” Nan asks, scanning the room, brows furrowing. Y/n feels a sweat break out. She just hopes that Penny will understand when she finds out about her feelings for her ex-boyfriend. It’s been years, sure, but there has to be some kind of friendship code that prohibits this sort of thing. “And where’s that fiancé of yours? He should be here with you.”

“Probably just got stuck in traffic,” Y/n says, but honestly, she’s reveling the extra time she has to prepare.

Nan hooks arms with Ava and Gramps, and they walk the floor while Y/n greets a few of her guests. Her dad is one of them, no surprise there. He pecks her on the side of the head and lets out a perplexed sound as he gazes at all the art. 

“I feel like I should understand this kind of thing by now,” he muses, gesturing to the portrait of naked man made from duct tape and spoons. “Anything after 2003 is lost to me. I just don’t get it.”

“Are you proud of me?” Y/n shocks herself with the question.

Matthew looks stunned himself. “Why would you ask something like that? You know that I am.” He pulls her aside, so they have a little more privacy. “Sweetheart, is everything okay?” There’s worry in his eyes. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” she appeases, “I just wanted to hear it.” Her dad doesn’t respond but hugs her tight. They stay like that for a moment, she’s always felt safe in his arms, until she feels them loosen around her. She looks up at him, his look somewhere else. When she follows it, her heart skips a beat.

“Harry!” Matthew takes his hand and shakes it. “I haven’t seen you in a full two hours!” 

The younger man lets out a slight chuckle. “It’s been unbearable. I just can’t keep away.” He turns to her. “Congratulations.” 

A nod is all she can afford. 

Matthew looks between the two of them, and their situation feels almost familiar. He coughs into his hand and excuses himself as he chases a waiter down the west wing. 

“Can we talk?” Harry asks her. 

She purses her lips to the side. There’s so much she wants to say to him, but she’s afraid of what she might do. 

Against her better judgement, she leads him into her office. She leaves the door open behind her in the off chance that things intensify. She doesn’t need any more guilt on her plate. (But she wishes he wasn’t wearing such a properly fit suit. It’s far too distracting for the seriousness of the situation.)

Leaning against her desk, arms crossed over her chest, she waits for him to speak. 

“I’m sorry.”

“It was both our doing,” she stresses. If you asked her who had kissed who first, she wouldn’t be able to tell you. “We just...got caught up in the moment.” I let my heart dictate my actions.

He looks hurt by her words but doesn’t press her on it. “I should’ve stopped it. I always wondered what it would feel like to kiss you, and when it happened, I...” He shakes his head, and she’s thankful that he’ll never finish that sentence. She’s already heard it in her mind. Hearing out loud would cause both of them too much agony.

“I know,” she rasps. “I can’t stand here and say that I didn’t want it, but–”

“you don’t want to hurt him.” She smiles appreciatively, though, sadly. In another life, maybe they would have a chance. This one doesn’t have a place for them. Even if she ends things with Jared, it doesn’t erase the fact that they’re family. She could never start anything with Harry without him getting hurt. It’s a matter of acceptance now. 

This must have been what Harry had been feeling when he had left. As much as it hurts to remember, she thinks she at least understands it better. 

“I need air,” she says, not wanting to entertain those thoughts further, “join me?” She grabs her phone from her desk. It’s getting late, and she’s starting to worry about Jared. 

They leave her office and start towards the back door that some of her staff use when they want a smoke. She usually avoids it for that reason, but it was getting too stuffy in there. Her lungs will forgive her if she takes this one moment to herself. Her screen unlocks, and just as she’s about to press on her fiancé’s name, Harry pushes the door open and she looks up as the evening breeze brushes her face and then...

“What the hell is this?” She drops her phone to the ground. 

Jared and Penny pull away from each other, but the space between them is nearly nonexistent. The latter meets her with scared eyes that soon begin to fill up. One hand covers her mouth as she chokes on a sob or maybe even fear, while the other clasps over her swollen belly. Y/n’s eyes drift down to it. It clicks. 

“Y/n...” Jared starts, he’s breathing heavily. “Let me–”

“That’s why you couldn’t tell me his name,” she says shakily. It’s directed at Penelope. “You couldn’t tell me because it was him.” The night Penelope had come over unannounced after her alleged date cancellation at the same time Jared had cancelled his own plans. “I’ll make sure he knows what he’s missing.” And that’s exactly what she had done, and right under her nose. They’d have been sneaking around behind her back for months.

“We d-didn’t mean for it to get this far...” Penny tries to explain, she steps out from behind Jared’s shadow. The usually confident blonde has lost several inches of height. She says something else, but it’s like Y/n’s just drowned out all the noise. Her eyes still haven’t left Penelope’s stomach. 

She wants to hate her. She should hate her. But she’s just an innocent victim caught in her parents’ web of lies. Then she grits her teeth at Jared. How far he’s fallen from the pedestal she’d put him on. Now she’s certain that she had inflated his image in her spiraling guilt for having feelings for another man. To think that only minutes ago she was about to plead for his forgiveness for kissing Harry, when all this time he’d been fucking her closest friend. 

“Jared,” his name weighs like venom on her tongue, “I want you out of the apartment by tonight.”

She just runs. Down the alleyway, ignoring all the calls of her name behind her. Harry’s voice is by far the loudest. There’s a thud, followed by a scream. However tempted she is to look back, her legs have developed a mind of their own and lead her towards the busy sidewalk. The bright streetlights burn her eyes, but she doesn’t stop.

She keeps going until she finds the first empty cab. Getting in without a second to hesitate, she closes the door and tells the man behind the wheel to just go. 

“Where to?” he asks her. Her first instinct is to go home and lock herself in her room, but she realizes that she’ll probably have to confront Jared again, and that’s not going to happen. Her second and third options are still at the gallery, completely oblivious to all the night’s revelations. There’s just one other person on that list, so Y/n gives the driver the address. 

***

It takes less than twenty minutes for her to end up in front of a building with bright blue doors and window panels to match. She climbs the steps, one wobbly footstep at a time, but only hesitating once. Her knuckles curl at her sides, until lifting them up to knock against the heavy wood. Light from inside peeks through the curtains.

A woman appears in the open threshold, that faint light from inside creating a halo around her figure. She looks unreal, like something straight out of a storybook. Her ethereal face just as kind as Y/n remembers. It’s the most immaculate she’s ever been. 

Y/n feels herself lose the battle with the emotions she had managed to keep on leash from just one look from her. 

With a whimper, her mouth struggle with the words. “Hi, Mum.”

***

Grace sets her up in the guest room and supplies her with a cup of tea and biscuits. As she’s setting it down on the bedside table, Y/n can’t help but take note of her appearance. It’s been nearly twenty years since she had last seen her mother, but why is that she’s never looked younger? Her eyes no longer have the eternal vacancy that had highlighted her once slack expression. 

She looks happy. 

“Thank god I did the shopping earlier this week, huh?” Grace muses, opening up a new pack of biscuits. Each word to leave her lips feels smooth against her ears. “I’ve developed a bit of a sweet tooth in my old age.” Y/n doesn’t know if she appreciates her efforts to make conversation, but it does give her time to think about what exactly she wants to say. 

They drink their tea in hushed sips, like they’re afraid that any loud slurping might cause some offence. Y/n stares down into the contents of her cup, annoyed that it’s the perfect color. A part of her had wished that she could find something to fault her with. 

“So,” Grace hums, tapping melodically on the porcelain in her hands. “You want to tell me why you’re here?”

Y/n barely lifts her head as her hands strangle the air with frustrated rigidness. “I’ve spent my entire life trying not to become you.” From her decision to follow her dad’s wishes, to keeping appearances for a relationship that she now knows was destined for destruction, she’d made every choice for everyone else. 

Grace doesn’t respond, but her mouth parts with a staggered breath. 

“I wanted to believe that I was happy. I wanted to do what you never did because I didn’t want to hurt the people I was supposed to love.” All the years she’d never confronted these feelings have ultimately resulted to this. “You broke us,” she says, staring her directly in the eyes. “You ruined every image I had of love.” The anxiousness that had put her through hell had to come from this. The truth is, she couldn’t break it off with Jared because she didn’t want to hurt him in the same way that her mother had hurt her dad. That’s it. She ignored every gut feeling that told her it wasn’t right because of the bitterness she felt towards her mother.   

“The choices we make aren’t genetic,” Grace says softly.

“Aren’t they, though?” she shrieks. She bounces to her feet and paces in front of the bed. “Penelope’s mother was the other woman, and now Penelope is pregnant with my fiancé’s baby! You ran away from your family because you couldn’t forget him.” 

By that, she means her mother’s new husband, the one she had left them for. It had been during her last year at university that Y/n had discovered the truth. He had been her professor for her art history class. She recognized him from a picture she had once seen in her mother’s jewelry box. She just hadn’t put two and two together until then. “And I...I can’t forget the person I’ve loved since I was eight. What makes us different, Mum?”

Grace holds her chin close to her body. “I don’t know,” she whispers. “But tell me this. Why haven’t you planned your wedding?”

This causes Y/n’s pacing to cease. She stands at her mother’s knees, blinking rapidly. “How would you know anything that goes on with me?”

Her mother stands up as well. They’re about the same height.  

“I know it’ll make never make up for what I did but believe me. I’ve never stopped trying to be in your lives...even if it was from afar.” Her hand is shaking as she reaches up to cup Y/n’s cheek so she can wipe away her tears. “I was there when you won all your art shows back in school. I was there when you graduated university.” She’s crying her own tears now. “And I was excited for you when you got engaged three years ago.” 

Y/n doesn’t let herself give in. She pulls away. “It was supposed to be a long engagement.”

“Is that what you keep telling yourself?” Grace looks at her pointedly. Y/n’s bottom lip starts to quiver. Her mother grasps her by the shoulders. “Maybe that’s what makes you different from me. You stopped pretending before it was too late, you just hadn’t realized it.”

“Is that supposed to make me a good person?” Y/n challenges. 

“No,” Grace answers honestly, but she sighs with a small smile. “But it makes you a better person than me.”

***

She doesn’t recall ever falling asleep, but she can still feel her mother’s hand stroking her hair as she had laid her head on the pillow. The morning sun shines through the curtains of the unfamiliar room and greet her with slithers of light by her feet. Waking up here feels strange, but she’s experienced comfort that she hasn’t felt in so long.

The rug-lined steps make little to no sound as she makes her way downstairs. From the bottom, she can hear two voices talking in hushed tones from the kitchen. One is unmistakably her mothers, while the other is deep and manly. She isn’t sure how to make approach them, suddenly feeling self-conscious for having intruded. But soon enough, her mum catches sight of her and invites her to take the stool beside her. Y/n walks in, passing her mother’s husband, who smiles kindly at her. She had liked him as a professor before she had found about his private life.

“Good morning,” Grace says. “Lawrence’s just been to the bakery.” She pushes a box full of a variety of goodies. “Eat as much as you want.”

Y/n picks up a croissant and gingerly pulls it apart. She avoids how her mother and her husband gage in her every movement. 

“Did you sleep well?” It’s Lawrence who asks her. She nods. Lawrence and her mother share a look, and through their eyes they seem to converse. It reminds her a lot of how she and Harry had always been able to tell what the other was thinking without having to verbalize. Lawrence finishes up his cup of coffee, then circles around the island and kisses his wife on the cheek. “I’m just going to pop to the store,” he says. She catches the back of his head before he disappears. 

“I thought you said you had just done the shopping?” Y/n asks her mother. The older woman shrugs, continuing to pick at her breakfast. Oh. She sees that there’s apparently more to talk about. Y/n does in fact have a few more questions she wants to ask, if anything more than to talk to someone who knows what she’s going through. She takes a deep breath. “Are you happy?” The words feel awkward as they leave her mouth. Grace looks at her, questioningly. She nods towards the door. “With him?”

“Yes.” 

Y/n’s heart breaks for her father. 

“He’s my best friend,” Grace says dreamily. “I’ve known him all my life. Loved him about the same.” Y/n feels goosebumps startle her skin.

“So,” Y/n treads cautiously, “was he worth it?”

“There are things that I would have done differently when it came to you and your sister, given the chance,” her mother sighs, but when she looks at her with those eyes that are so full of light and what she guesses must only be love, Y/n gets it. “But otherwise I’d choose him all over again.”

***

She knocks impulsively on his front door, not caring if his new neighbors think she’s out of her mind insane. Her limbs are tight with anticipation, especially when she hears the scuffle of feet against well-polished hardwood. Harry stands in the open doorway dressed in a white t-shirt and black joggers, and an adorably confused look floating in his sleepy eyes. But when he registers her before him, it’s like he’d been hit by lightning and suddenly jolted awake.

“Has anything changed?” she asks, almost pleadingly. He just stares at her, frustrating her already exhausted nerves. She hadn’t come all this way after a rollercoaster of a night to not get an answer. “Am I...Am I still all that’s in...” And rests her hand where his heart is.

Her own heart leaps in her chest when his dimples emerge from his cheeks. He lays his own hand over hers, stepping towards her but also pulling her incredibly close. “It’s always been you.” 

And no words have ever made her cry out of shear joy. She laughs, or maybe it’s more of a wet giggle, before throwing her arms around his neck and bringing him in for a scorching kiss. Unlike their first kiss, this one is filled solely with everything they hadn’t allowed themselves to feel. He nips on her bottom lip, and her mouth parts and welcomes his tongue to explore every unchartered inch. He grasps her both her thighs and carries her to his bedroom. 

She can’t believe she’s gone this long without knowing his touch. Every movement of against her skin, and every exploration of forbidden pleasure makes her stomach coil and beg for more. He lays her down on his bed, his body hovering over hers like he’s afraid she might slip away. 

He leans in a little lower, and she gasps when she feels him hard against her hip. “We don’t have to do anything,” he gulps, pressing his forehead to hers. “You’ve been through a lot, and I just want you to know that–” but he doesn’t get to finish because she shuts him up with the fire in her eyes. She loves him for everything he is, even when he’s being selfless to a fault. 

“We’ve waited too long for this,” she breathes against his lips. “Let’s choose us.” 

A low throaty moan surges from of her as he grinds himself against her, sending currents of electrifying energy down to her aching entrance. Her mind becomes cloudier with his every caress. His hot breath against her longing flesh only intensifies her need.

“Please,” she begs, fingers working on the hem of his shirt. “I want you. God, please I want to feel you.” 

He chuckles softly as she whines, pecking her again. “Patience, love,” he teases. His lips glide down to her ear, his breath sending shivers down her inflamed body. “Show me where you want me.” 

Taking reign of his hand and guiding down the front of her front, she smirks at him. His pants become unbelievably tight as she lets him linger over her chest, her head falling back when the warmth of his hand flicks over her pebbled nipple. “You want me between your pretty little tits? Is that what my girl wants?” His girl. Nothing in this moment could sound so perfect than the words to have just left his lips. It’s enough for her to want to bring him in for another impassioned kiss, but she restrains, shaking her head mischievously as he squeezes gently on her breast. She leads him further down, his palm sliding down her abdomen. 

“Here.” She slots her fingers through the spaces between his and their tips graze the base of her dress, toying with the flimsy material until finally slipping beneath. He groans as his skin comes into contact with her pussy emanating all that delicious heat.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” She rubs against him just enough for him to feel her center through her panties, and he swears to her that he might come then and there. Wasting no time, she pulls his shirt over her head, only breaking their kiss to appreciate all the tattoos on his sculpted chest. When she’d seen them before, it had only been for a quick few seconds, and she’d been far too flustered to take anything more than a peek. But now she can’t help herself, and she lets her fingers dance across the ink, the point of her nails tracing over the edge of every design. She spends the most time on the moth, or maybe it’s a butterfly, she couldn’t say. 

All she knows is that something about it makes her feel at peace, like she’ll always be safe as long as he's there beside her. She tears her eyes away from his chest to find him looking at her as though she were everything that’s right with the world. “You’re so beautiful,” he tells her, and she just beams, eyes looking back at him with such sincerity. 

He kisses the side of her mouth before descending along her body He takes his time, his lips pressing over every possible inch of her, leaving no surface neglected. Where his hands had been prior, he takes an erect mound in his mouth, tongue swirling around in through its covering. Each touch leaves her breathless, her back arching in intense anticipation the further down he goes. When his nose nudges at the bottom of her skirt, she lets out another frustrated whine, and he chuckles softly at how her abdomen sucks in as the stubble on his chin prickles goosebumps across her skin. 

“Please, just. . .” and the final remains of her inhibitions drain from the tips of her fingers and toes. “I want your cock inside me.” 

“Christ, you’ve got a filthy mouth.” And he tears her dress from her body and pulls her panties down her silky legs, leaving her completely bare before his eyes. From a pale green, the color of his irises darkens with a fierce and pounding desire. It sends vibrations down to her pussy and all she wants is for him to bury his face in her dripping arousal. She bites harshly on her lip once he licks between her slick folds. “So sweet,” he mutters, his lips slipping through the barriers to find her sensitive little nub. “I could just stay here forever.”

“Harry. . .” she gasps, fisting the sheets as her hips lift off the mattress. “It feels so good.” Her legs hang over his shoulders as he encourages her to ride his face until she’s begging to release all over his tongue. “Oh god, don’t stop.” 

One of his long fingers that had been drawing small little circles on the inner part of her thigh smooths over her damp skin until it forges its way into her glistening heat. The other hand moves down his own figure, undoing the button of his jeans and sliding past the waistband of his boxers. 

As the knot in her stomach twists with tremendous force, it pushes her closer and closer to the edge. He inserts another finger, the two digits piston in and out of her, working harmoniously with his skilled mouth. She screams out, her back arching to an almost impossible degree. It all becomes too much for her, bursts of light flashing behind her eyelids.  

“I’m gonna come,” she moans, cheek pressed deep into the pillow, eyes shut tightly to welcome the stars as she lets go with cacophonous convulsions. 

“That’s my good girl, come all over my tongue. That’s it, that’s a good girl.”

He climbs back up her body, a content smile awaiting him when their faces become level with each other. Another exchange of ardent kisses, and she feels herself tingle at the taste of her on his lips. Even after her orgasm, she already craves for another, but this time she wants nothing more but to feel him stuffed inside of her. She wraps a leg around his hip, the edge of her foot pressed against the side of his ass as she presses her core into his bulge. 

“I need to be inside of you.” He leaps off the bed to push off the last pieces of constrictive clothing. His cock springs free, flushed red at the tip and just desperate for her amorous touch. 

And he’s big, she had always had an inkling, but to see it in the flesh is a whole new sensation quivering between her thighs. “It’s so big,” her thoughts become vocalized. 

With his knees back onto the bed, she grabs his shoulders and pulls him down lower, his elbows planking on either side of her. “Feel how hard I am for you?” He hisses as her warm hand wraps around him, her thumb swiping along a dribble of precum. She lathers him in his own arousal. “Think you can handle my cock?” 

She’s completely in awe, and her mind runs untamed with fantasies of how it would feel hitting that special spot deep in her cunt, every rigid vein carving its impression in her walls. “You know I can,” she dares him. 

“Fuck.” He kisses her deeply, his hand taking ahold of his cock and glazing it with the remnants of her last climax and gliding just between her wet folds.  “One last time–” he swallows hard as he pulls away from his lips, “–are you sure you want to do this? I mean, I...”

Their eyes meet, a wordless understanding worth more than any spoken language as she cups his cheeks. 

The entire length of him slides into her tight hole until he bottoms out, his balls pressing against her taut ass. She feels undeniably full, never having experienced such exhilaration in her life as Harry’s bare cock stretches her out completely. 

“Just slid right in,” he grunts, dropping his face into the crook of her neck. He bites down and sucks greedily on the spot until he’s made his mark. She gasps in mild pain, but it feels too good to know that she can finally be his. He pulls all the way out, before slamming back in with ease, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as her walls flutter around him. “It feels like you were made for me” She feels marvelously tight, squeezing him for all he’s worth. All she can do is nod, her voice caught in her throat as his thrusts become harder and faster.  “It’s all mine now, your pussy, your lips. You’re all mine.” 

“I’m yours, all yours, Harry.” She wraps her arms around his shoulders. “God, your big cock feels so good in my tight pussy.” Nails dig into his back as they run down and carve crescents into his flexed and sweaty muscles. 

They move flawlessly in sync as she rises up to greet his every thrust with just as much excitement and fervor. Both their bodies are on fire, a pressure building up at their very core and threatening to unravel at any moment. His balls tighten, and he knows he won’t last for much longer. He looks down between them, his cock completely soaked with her with the most sinful sounds resonating whenever he pushes in and out of her delightful heat. “I love you,” he breathes into her ear, his fingers indenting into the plush of her hips. He loses any sense of rhythm he might have started out with, his movements becoming more and more urgent as he chases after his high. 

“I love you.” Her second orgasm fast approaches, she feels it thrill every one of her nerves as though currents of electricity were running through her veins. She’s so close, and her hand slips between their sweaty chests to rub desperately on her clit. Her head is spinning with an aspiration to reach the brink of ecstasy. 

“Come all over my cock,” he pleads as he pushes into her with incredible force. “Want to feel you come around me.”

And that’s it for her. A wave of pleasure crashes over her and she cries out with a high-pitched moan. Her legs hugging him so tightly that he barely manages to move. She rides it out, rolling her hips to feel him continuously poke that special spot. Soon enough, her mind is on a cloud, the rest of her body soaking up the bliss of the moment.

His movements only become more erratic, and the breath leaves her body once he releases inside of her. Hot white ribbons shoot out and paint her walls with the image of a sensational love. It warms her center, her lips turning up in a lazy smile as he remains within her even after the final drop has left his tip. Once they’re heaving chests calm to a natural pace, he collapses on top of her, arms willing their way between her and the mattress to gather her into a tender embrace. She scratches the back of his head and sighs contently.  

“To think we could’ve been doing that for,” and she counts the years on each one of her fingers.

Harry chuckles in between her breasts, then reaches up and plants a quick but sweet kiss to her lips. “How long are you going to be holding onto that one?” She pretends to think, her mouth quirking to the side as her brows furrow in contemplation. “Until we make up for all that wasted time.” 

***

“I got you something.” She looks up at him, her body still wrapped in his arms as they lay naked in his bed. Memories of what feels like another life flip through her head.

“Is this what déjà vu feels like?” 

He rolls his eyes. “Do you want it or not?” 

Smiling, she kisses enthusiastically and nods her head. He gets up, and she has to stop herself from frowning when they lose all contact. She sinks into the sheets and waits impatiently for him to come back. Listening to him rummage through his closet, then to the growling of her tummy–and she makes a quick mental note to ask him to order something for them in a while––she tries to relive every detail from the last few hours in her head. She didn’t know that sex was supposed to feel so good.

“You told me that you hadn’t drawn in almost ten years,” he states, making his way back to the bed, but this time, with a bag clutched in his hands. He places it in her lap, then slips between her and the headboard, arms going back to their initial position. “Maybe it’s time you started back up.”

Y/n opens the enclosed wrappings. Inside the bag is a new sketchbook and a carton of 9H pencils. She carefully grazes her fingers above them. There’s a feeling in her chest, like she’s just been reunited with an old friend. 

“But what would I even draw?” She’d lost all sight of that part of her life, and it seems unlikely that those creative juices will just come trickling back to her now. 

Harry kisses the side of her head, and she leans into him easily.

“Whatever inspires you.” 

It’s just that easy. She closes her eyes and reflects on what has always made her feel any bit positive. Ava and her bluntness; her dad and his sense of duty to his family; Nan and Gramps and their playful bickering; Nan and her proclivity for gossip; Gramps and his hatred for ties. All of them had been a comfort to her, even when she hadn’t realized it. They were part of what had kept her afloat.

Feeling Harry’s heartbeat press up against her back, she knows that she’ll never have to worry about drowning. She opens her sketchbook to its first clean page and lets herself be happy. 

***

“Thanks for meeting us here,” Jared says, offering her a modest grin. “I would’ve understood if you didn’t want to.” Penny nods beside him. Jared had texted her and asked if she would meet them for lunch, so that they could talk. At first, Y/n didn’t think that necessary. What was the point when it was all out in the open now? But with some convincing from Harry, she realized that she had to confront this.

“There’s no moving on if we don’t talk about it.” Y/n takes the seat across from Penny. She looks at the girl she’d consider a sister, studying her rounded and healthier features. Pregnancy looks good on her. “You look good.” 

Penny smiles thankfully. “So do you.”

They talk about everything, even the stuff that feels like it should hurt. But it doesn’t. Clarity exists where it hadn’t before. She tells them that about Harry, and apparently it isn’t much of a shock to anyone, which shocks her. Jared then admits to having had all these doubts about their relationship but had stuck through it because of his own insecurities. That had had hit close to home for Y/n. It’s somewhat of a relief that she hadn’t been the only one who felt that what they had was temperamental. 

“You were there for me when I was at my worst, and for that, I’ll always love you,” Jared sighs, reaching across the table and taking her hand. “But...”

“That’s all we were meant to be.”

He nods sadly, pulling back. His other arm is around Penny’s chair, and Y/n can see his fingers playing with the ends of her ponytail. 

Penny must notice this, and she quickly shrugs him away. “Sorry,” she mutters.  

Y/n shakes her head. “It’s fine,” she waves it off. “This was good. At least now we can all carry on with our lives.” She gets out of her chair. “Good luck,” she says to the both of them. Then she looks directly at Penny. “I know you’re worried about making all the same mistakes as your mum, but...” she smiles, “someone said to me that mistakes aren’t genetic. I know you. And I know how much you love your baby. Just promise me you’ll be there for her.”

With that she turns towards the exit. Before she can get far, however, she feels a hand grab her own. She looks back, and it’s Penny. Her eyes are teary, and her chest lifts erratically. “Do you think that...” she swallows, “...that you’ll ever forgive me?”

“Do I still get to be called auntie?” 

Penny lets out a stifled giggle. “Yes.”

Y/n touches her comfortingly on the shoulder. “Then, one day.”

She walks out of there feeling completely at peace with herself.

***

Two Years Later

The newest exhibit proves to be a hit. It’s smaller than its predecessors, this time only containing the work from a single artist. 

She and Harry walk hand-in-hand, greeting all of guests and just enjoying each other’s company. Gramps isn’t moping as much as he usually does, and she thinks it’s because Nan’s bought him a clip-on tie that doesn’t strangle him around the neck. Ava and Nan are gossiping with some potential investors, while her dad tries to apologize on their behalf. 

On the other side, her mum and Lawrence discuss color theory in relation to one of the spotlight pieces. She catches a glimpse of the civility between her parents when they catch each other’s eyes from across the room. 

“I think it’s the gallery’s best showcase yet,” Harry tells her and kisses her on the lips. “Really, I don’t see how anything might top this.”

Y/n laughs. “You’re just trying to get laid.”

Harry wags his eyebrows. “Is it working?” She doesn’t need to give him an answer with words, so instead, she pulls him by the lapels of his jacket and their lips meet in another sweet kiss. 

They stop in front of the piece in the very back, the one that’s drawn in the most viewers. They squeeze through the polluted crowd until they’re close enough to the front. He wraps his arms around her, and they both admire its beauty. 

Two kids laid out on the grass; eyes closed with content smiles on their faces. The sky above them, a product of their combined imaginations as well as the excitement of hopes and dreams. 

Below the canvas is a placcard with the painting’s information. 

Y/n Styles, Purple Clouds and Tangerine Skies.

***

A/N: HOPE YOU LIKED IT!

[erodasghosts]

memories & misconceptions | harry styles

chapter one: right where you left me.

↳ read Thea’s version (tom holland fic) by @peeterparkr

story summary: After Harry left with unexplained reasoning, and you lost two of your friends to even greater unknown motives, there was no way of knowing how you might react when deciding to go back into that environment where it all started. Back to that reminder of your beginning with Harry, and back to the memory of a simpler childhood and a closer bond.

chapter summary: breakups happen everyday, so why should you lose it? after having a falling out with nearly all of your childhood friends, you found yourself back home, where everybody moved on. still sitting in a corner you haunt, you weren’t sure what to expect out of this reunion. might it pull you into a brighter light? or will it only leave you deeper in the shadows of your past?

warnings: none?

word count: ~12k

a/n: it’s,,, a long chapter but i hope you enjoy it! let me know what you think :)

series masterlist

prologue

masterlist

“Fuck.” You took in a deep breath, clutching your chest as it seemed to tighten. 

Your eyes flickered anxiously around the small café, waiting for Harry to walk in. What would he be wearing? Would he look a mess, hair disheveled, clothes seemingly worn? Would you be able to read a lack of sleep on his face? Would a look of dysphoria be glossed over his eyes? You actually figured that he wouldn’t seem like any of those things in the slightest, he would probably look much more kept together, and likely unbothered.

Out of the two of you, you would be the one to look a mess, surely. But maybe he would surprise you, because you managed to convince yourself that he had been broken-hearted too. Surely he had also spent hours questioning what went wrong in the relationship, wondering if it ever could’ve been saved. Surely he had regrets just as you did, though some you didn’t understand. 

Did any of it ever matter to him? It had all mattered to you, much more than you would ever admit to him. The both of you were far too prideful. How could you admit to something so disconcerting with the risk that he had never felt the same? You wouldn’t be caught wasting time on something he had never even batted an eye about.

The cafe door swung open, pulling your attention to it once more. You sank down into your chair a bit upon seeing a small red-headed woman coming in, feeling a sense of relief wash over when you had realized it wasn’t Harry. Relief? It was odd, but you had felt incredibly nervous yet desirous at the same time. You hadn’t seen him in over a month, and you had, in truth, missed him.

You had also missed the café, Nana’s café, which made you question how much you actually missed him. Your mind had been spiraling nonstop for weeks at this point, ever since Harry had called off the engagement. But you were thankful that, in some way, the café still had such a calming environment.

Of course, the engagement. The entire reason you were there to meet him. You had nearly forgotten, so caught up in the anxiousness of seeing him again. It wasn’t exactly something you wished to dwell on for too long.You would avoid it longer, for as long as you could. 

Looking around the café another time, in hopes that the calm environment could be effective for you even now, you felt a new worry washing over your mind.

You hadn’t been home in a few months, since you had moved to London with a group of friends from school a few years back. It was meant to be a monumental shift for all of you. For you, for Harry, for Tom and Andrew. But it was wrong from the start, feeling an immediate disconnection from all expectations and even the reality of how things had once been.

Dorothea, your closest friend you had known as Thea, hadn’t been able to join the rest of you, which was something you had long ago pinned to be part of the problem. And, though you would visit often and do what you could to stay in touch, it was never the same. It essentially felt like Thea had been the glue to the friend group, so when she was separated things slowly began to crumble. 

You had tried to understand where it started to go wrong for a while now, long before Harry had even left you, and long enough to have somewhat of an idea now. 

It had started with Dorothea, though she hadn’t left the group exactly, rather she had been left behind. Everyone else had gone off to London, whilst Thea had stayed behind. You remember her saying that she could never really leave, that she wasn’t truly meant to either. Thea’s parents had gotten divorced during your freshman year of secondary school, and you could tell that it had continued affecting her life, as much as she might continue to deny it.

You always saw the way she had put everyone around her above herself, it was clear to see that she wanted everyone else to be happy. That was a downfall for her, though. Always so wrapped up in pleasing the world around her that she often forgot to look out for herself. You were convinced it was why she had never gone to London. She had to stay, for her father, or to be with her soon to be husband Nicholas, or for whatever excuse seemed convenient enough. 

So, Thea never left. Which meant here you all were, back in Hawkshead for Thea’s wedding. It angered you in a way, to see her wasting so much of her time and energy on something and someone you thought she cared so little about. She was marrying Nicholas, which didn’t come as much of a surprise. They were high school sweethearts, and the town was just waiting for the day they would get married. Still, it was somewhat of a disappointment for you to see.

The second to leave had been Tom, bolting off practically the moment you had arrived in London. He had felt betrayed by Thea, despite the fact that everyone knew he had the blame placed on himself for what happened between the two of them. It was a shame, really, to see how their relationship unraveled so slowly over time. Tom had never had it in him to step forward and admit how he felt for Dorothea, and she had been just as avoidant as him. 

It was painful for you to watch, really. Being close to the both of them, you were stuck in the middle of a situation that had such a simple solution from your point of view. The situation couldn’t be helped, and you had all silently agreed that it never could’ve been for a number of reasons.

Tom, though keeping himself far from Thea, had still talked to the rest of you on occasion, remaining the closest to Harry. By now, ties with you had completely ended. It was something you saw coming, after his fight with Thea he became so angry with you, blaming you for how things turned out with her. He claimed that had you told him Thea had a crush on him, though you weren’t sure if she even had when he asked, that they would’ve ended up together and he wouldn’t have to go. He had said hurtful things to you over it, trying to push you away further. And though he was angry with you, you couldn’t help but make excuses for everything he was saying. Your friendship with him had meant too much. 

Tom and Harry stayed friends through it, though they had been friends before either of them became friends with you and Thea, and that was probably why they stayed close even now. They had a strange friendship, one you never truly understood regardless of how hard you tried to. At least they had each other still.

It was never confirmed that Tom stepping away from you started when he fought with Thea, but you and Harry always knew. He just needed one last reason to completely cut you off, and it hurt to think that he was just waiting for a reason but it seemed to be true considering he cut all ties with you entirely once you and Harry broke up. 

You didn’t really expect him to stay friends with you after your breakup with Harry, considering they had been best friends for so long, but you were curious as to how Harry described the break up to him. You wished that Harry told him the truth, though you knew it wasn’t likely since he couldn’t even tell you what it was. But you hoped, because you didn’t want Tom to see you as anymore of a villain than he already seemed to.

You thought if Tom knew the truth maybe he would side with you, anything to ease your guilt on the breakup. You and Tom were always able to understand one another in a way that the others hadn’t been able to, allowing you to become closer in some ways, so it felt like there was hope there.

There was relatability between the two of you when it came to your reserved feelings. You both just felt much more comfortable holding yourselves in, while every other person in the friend group tended to just let it all out, being much more expressive in the way they portrayed themselves to the world around them. Thea and Harry had always been the most outgoing in the group, but they both did still hide away whatever they didn’t want to be noticed by others.

Cool air brushed past your lips as you let out a deep breath, shaky hands resting on your lap. The café didn’t seem to be helping to calm your mind much. Taking another look around, your eyes stopped on the wall to your right, filled with pictures and newspaper clippings of different events that had taken place at the small café. 

You wondered if Nana had kept a particular one up, it didn’t seem likely that she would’ve still had it at this point. If anything, Thea had probably taken it down considering it was her grandmother’s café, she probably was tired of having to see it. Had Thea kept any of the pictures from before? You remembered her collection of them, holding on to every memory.

Surprisingly, you found the picture still on the wall, exactly where it had always been. It was of all of you, from years before. It was near the start of Tom and Harry’s band, Pandora’s Signs, long before they had gained any popularity outside of the small town. 

Thea was smiling brilliantly right beside Tom, who was brooding and trying his hardest not to crack a smile after Thea had just left an imprint of her lipstick on his cheek. Andrew was dying of laughter at the idiocy, a hand covering his mouth in an attempt to quiet his laughter, you could still hear it so clearly. Harry had his arm around your shoulders, slumping down to rest his head on yours with a cheesy smile as you proudly held out a tee shirt that you had designed for their new band, Pandora smiling down at a single hawkshead flower. 

That was the day you and Harry had shared your first kiss, and you had officially begun dating. You could nearly still feel the warm breeze from that day. It was such a warm memory, a gentle reminder of how things used to be. At least, for the most part it was warm. 

So much had changed, and now you had wished you could forget the memory of when you were last all together, having been more of a painful thought compared to the memory from the picture. 

Continuing with the trend of where things went wrong, after Tom, you had lost Harry, though not for some time after. Losing Harry had nearly been the least expected, and was definitely the most painful to go through. Losing all of them had all had their different categories of how they hurt, and you at least hadn’t lost Andrew, though now you had lost your closest friend, Thea.

If you were honest, you were a bit surprised that you had still been invited to Thea’s wedding. At the beginning, you were planned to be her maid of honour, but after you had your falling out with her the title had been given to Harry. The job of maid of honour could’ve gone to anyone else in the world and it would’ve stung less, but her choice of Harry seemed to tell you more than even your fight had said.

“You villainize me for not showing my emotions but it got a pass when you were incapable of showing your's to Tom?” 

Looking back on it you sometimes felt that it was a very selfish thing, but you had decided that it needed to be said. As much as a part of you would always miss Thea, there seemed to be a bigger part that refused to forgive her for what she had done. The thing that seemed to hurt most about it was that she hadn’t told you about Nana. 

You couldn’t believe that she hadn’t told you about Nana, and her reasoning for it seemed so weak. She acted as if there was never any point in telling you, saying that you wouldn’t have cared anyway. Nana was Thea’s grandmother, but she had meant the world to you as well all of your life. To hear that Nana was now sick through Andrew, who was still a very dear friend but not the same as Thea, was very upsetting for you to have to handle. 

And Thea acted as if you had done it to yourself. As if your own struggles with your emotions and ability to express them was reason enough to not tell you. How could she think you wouldn’t care about Nana? And not just Nana, but how Thea was handling Nana being sick. 

From that incident sprung more troubles with Thea. Having not told you about Nana was reason enough for you to be angry with her, but she had taken it a step further when interfering with your relationship with Harry. Had Thea never said a word to Harry, you wondered if you might still be with him now.

Blaming someone else for how things ended with Harry seemed so much easier than just accepting that he was gone, you still needed somewhere else to place your anger. It was still such a new occurrence, he had broken things off only two months before Thea’s wedding, leaving you in a hopelessness that you couldn’t begin to understand. That hopelessness only worsened in the days after he left, when you had that conversation with Thea. And after it all, Andrew had stayed by your side, the last of the friend group. 

You were glad to at least have Andrew. You had always been rather close, but you didn’t feel very deserving of him. It wasn’t unexpected that you would remain friends, but then again it had never seemed likely that you would lose everyone else either. But Andrew had stayed, and he had comforted you through losing Harry, he helped you come to terms with how things seemed to end with Thea too. But had things really even ended?

It was unbelievable, how quickly you always seemed to spiral into all of those worries. You were never sure of when it might happen, it made you feel like you had less and less control. And now, here you were practically asking for things to get increasingly worse for yourself.

Hadn’t it been bad enough to have your heart broken when Harry walked away, and now you were asking him to come back? You hadn’t a clue as to why you had asked him to, you knew it would likely end in failure. How could it not? The last time you saw him he had been so cruel. 

Because the last time you saw him, he had been rushing to pack his things, suddenly in such a hurry to get away. You recalled that he did all that he could to look anywhere but into your eyes before finally hardly even explaining why he was suddenly calling it all off. And you still remembered how desperate and exhausted he had sounded, as if he was annoyed that he even had to explain. So why would you want to walk back into that?

You bit your lip and checked the time for the sixth time, only to be disappointed that only a couple of minutes had passed since you last checked. This entire plan was insane, you had gone completely mental. See, you hadn’t typically found yourself to be so nervous, especially not when it came to being around Harry. But things had changed, they were different now. 

You hadn’t actually seen Harry much within the last months, which was becoming increasingly difficult to grow used to. It only felt as if each day was a step further from the chance of him ever returning. But at the same time, you feared the day of ever seeing him again. 

What more did you have to be afraid of? It was already over, there wasn’t much else he could say to hurt you now. And he was never one to continuously dig at people once things had begun to settle, why poke at an already gaping wound? No, he wouldn’t say anything more to hurt you, this was Harry. Harry would instead act as if nothing had happened, probably even attempt to pick up a conversation as if you had seen him just yesterday.

Which was worse, you couldn’t decide. No matter how he would act you knew that it would end in pain for yourself. But you had still been so curious about how he was doing, though Andrew had told you he wasn’t worth the energy or concern anymore. There were so many unanswered questions Harry had left you with, or questions that sprang late into your now restless nights as you replayed the breakup, trying your hardest to understand it.

You wanted to see him, you had decided that just days before. You were prepared for all of the possibilities of listlessness, because now you needed answers.

Still, when he finally came walking through the cafe door you could feel the knots in your stomach tightening. Suddenly it was becoming more and more of a reality for you, and your thoughts were now frozen rather than racing restlessly. 

As he walked in he seemed so casual, as if it was just another day for him. Your cheeks were burning, and you swore you could feel your throat going dry. 

He looked… good. Like he hadn’t been the slightest bit bothered, just as you had predicted. He looked the same as he had two months before. His usual button up shirt was lazily tucked into his pants, and you watched as he pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head and glanced around for you.

Had he not even cared? About what he had done, about having lost you, about why he was even there? If he had, you would never know. He didn’t look as if he had lost even a single night of sleep, or like he had shed even one tear. But, appearances can be deceiving, and it was just one day of many. There was no real way of knowing how he had felt about any of it, which you knew but it was still shocking in its own way.

Harry could hold a grudge, and for far too long, but he didn’t let things get the best of him for long. But you thought this would be different, that maybe this time he’d be a bit more broken. But why would he be, he had been the one to leave you. And he had done that so coldly, almost immediately cutting himself off from you after. You didn’t understand what you had done, and you still didn’t really understand. 

You didn’t want him to be hurt, of course, not really. But the idea that he was perfectly fine stung, because what did that say about how he viewed his relationship with you? 

“Y/n,” he stepped closer, only a few feet away now.

Part of you was only regretting meeting up with him increasingly more. It seemed like a good idea to meet, an opportunity to talk again. Things had ended so abruptly, and you knew that you needed to talk to him again to have even a chance of moving on.

The last time you had spoken he left you in tears, and he had damaged your pride, though you had yet to admit such a thing. You tried to not let others see just how much it hurt you, but you weren’t nearly as good at it as Harry was.

There was a bit of anger rising in you too, thinking of the damage he had done yet he seemed to walk away without even a scratch. It hadn’t been fair. Yes, there was anger, but you mostly still felt so lost.

Harry pulled out the chair across from you, taking a seat and offering you a smile, “Hey.”

Hey? You weren’t sure how else you would prefer that he greeted you, but it felt so strange, almost cold. Yet he said it with a smile, giving off another confusing feeling. Was he happy to see you? How could he be—why would he be happy after everything that had happened?

“Hey,” you replied lamely, scolding yourself for your copied response.

You could sense the worry written all over your face, maybe that was why he offered a smile, to ease your mind. 

“How’ve you…” he licked his lips, glancing over you, “how are you?”

He had noticed the way you were wringing your hands, a habit you had often wanted to end because it so easily gave signs of your nerves. 

“I’m…” you took in a deep breath. You couldn’t say the truth, he probably wouldn’t even care anymore. “I’m fine, how’re you?”

“A’right, I suppose.”

Things had never felt so stiff between the two of you before, you weren’t sure what to say. It was as if everything you had wanted to tell him had now escaped your mind, or you had lost the nerve to say it. 

“Was there uh…” he raised his brows, “there a reason you wanted to meet?”

You had never needed a reason before, but now there was such a long list of reasons why. Him asking the question made him seem so ignorant, though. Of course you had reason, he had probably just expected you would never want to see him again though, and there was a part of you thinking you might’ve been better not seeing him again.

“Yes, I--” you sat your palms on the table, “I wanted to see you, to talk to you.” You tried to calm yourself down, at this point there was no going back. “We haven’t talked since…”

“Right,” he interrupted. 

Harry adjusted his posture, taking his sunglasses off his head and folding them. He hadn’t been ready to really hear that from you it seemed, you weren’t sure why when he had been the one to go.

That was the thing of it all. All through it, he had talked about it as if it was on you that the engagement had been called off, at least that was how you felt. He had been the one to take all of his things that night, deciding to never return. He hadn’t called, or even texted. He walked away, yet it was like he couldn’t talk about it. 

“Look, I…” you didn’t want to push him still. “You told me that it was... me, and I know you shouldn’t have had to hear that through Thea--”

His brows furrowed, “It’s not ‘cause of Thea.”

“But,” you continued, “I didn’t think-- I never wanted to leave, you know that, right? It just…” you took a moment to collect your thoughts, “it doesn’t make sense. You never really said… Can’t we--”

“Do we have to have this conversation again?” He glanced up at you.

Again? You never got to have such a conversation before, how could it happen again? It wasn’t worth arguing about that though, if you would start an argument about it you knew things would be guaranteed to spiral, you wanted the chance to actually talk.

“I just don’t understand it all.” You bowed your head, “I mean, you just… you left me.” Trying to understand, you shook your head and continued, “Was it… was it something to do with the band? Were you afraid I’d hold you back from growing? I know you’ve gotten more well known since thing’s ended.”

“It wasn’t the band,” he shook his head. 

You pushed, “Are you sure? Because if I took that job it would’ve messed with your plans for Pandora’s Signs, but I was never going to take the offer so I don’t know why Thea even told you.”

“It wasn’t just the bloody offer, y/n,” he snapped. “And that wouldn’t have been on Thea even if she had been the one to tell me,” If she had been the one to tell him? Harry’s gaze moved off to the side, trying to calm himself. “You should’ve told me yourself, but it’s more than that.”

“But I was never going to accept the job,” you repeated desperately.

“So that makes it okay that you hid it from me?” His eyes were cold, you could sense a slight anger in his words.

“No, I--” you whispered, his reply leaving you to feel less determined. “I should’ve told you.”

You should’ve, and you did regret it in some ways. You still wanted to stand by the idea that it was somehow Thea’s fault, because that felt like an easier option. You didn’t want to feel the guilt of it being on you, and you still struggled to stay mad at Harry for long before beginning to make excuses once more.

Deep down, you didn’t blame her at all. How could you be angry with someone for not realizing you’d want such a secret to be kept from the man you were meant to be marrying? And now, with what Harry had said, it seemed Thea had never been the one to expose that secret in the first place. 

“Whatever, it’s over now.” Harry seemed calmer, but much more annoyed than from the start. “I just… Even with the offer aside, I couldn’t fucking stay. It just made it more clear for me that I had to go.”

And there it was again, he couldn’t stay. That on it’s own reminded you where your previous anger was coming from, and you could feel the determination once more.

You wondered how long he had made himself stay. How long had he been unhappy in your relationship, because you had never noticed a single sign that he had been. But you figured you wouldn’t have noticed because, as Harry had graciously reminded you, you were apparently completely shut off from your emotions, so how could you pick up on anybody else’s?

“Of course, you couldn’t stay.” You repeated him, beginning to dig around in your purse.

He watched you carefully, trying to observe your sudden movement. He still seemed so detached from it, but at the same time it was completely clear that it had upset him in some way. It had always been hard to read such small details in Harry, while he did tend to express most of his emotions greatly, he would never show when something hurt him.

“I never meant to make you feel like you had to stay, like it was some…” you continued digging, “required effort of you.”

Harry was irritated, “y/n, c’mon, that’s--” 

“No.” You cut him off, ceasing your movement. “It’s what you’ve said, isn’t it? Maybe not directly, but you’ve said you couldn’t stay, right?” He seemed to be frozen, taken back by your reaction. “But you did stay, for years. And you… you had even proposed. So all I wonder is, when did it start to feel like you had to fucking stay? Hmm?”

He stayed silent, an unusual occurrence for Harry. You were coming from a fair place, he had broken your heart and was now trying to push it off like it was nothing. How could he expect you to just let it go? Maybe he hadn’t been ready to talk, and you really didn’t want to force him to, but you still deserved to be heard, he hadn’t given you that chance when he left.

You never imagined that you would just burst like that, but it felt nice in a way to be letting all of it out, even if it meant you had to hold yourself back from letting out a stream of tears in public, or even in front of Harry for that matter. 

“Whatever,” you turned to your purse again. “You don’t even want to be here, I’ll just cut it short, wouldn’t want to waste any more of your time. I’m sure you have plenty of maid of honour duties to tend to. Congrats on snatching the title, by the way.”

“You practically handed it over,” he scoffed. 

“Oh,” you laughed bitterly, “so you can comment on my issues? But you can’t be bothered to give me even the slightest bit of an explanation?”

“I have explained to you,” he leaned forward, “That I… I had to go.”

“Such a bullshit answer,” you muttered to yourself.

Tears were stinging your eyes now, a mix of emotions seemed to be placing them there. For two months you had felt so melancholic. You had spent hours, days, weeks crying. You had tried to understand it on your own, but no conclusion ever seemed to satisfy your mind. You wanted an answer from Harry, and now you weren’t even sure why you were wasting your time trying to get one.

He rubbed his chin, biting his lip, “It isn’t bullshit.”

“Isn’t it?” You looked back at him, “All you say is you had to go, and I’ve gotten that message by now. You did go, Harry. I stayed, for you, and you fucking--” you choked on your words, looking away from him for a moment in an attempt to collect your thoughts. “You left me, and now you’re just acting like I shouldn’t even be phased anymore?” You looked at him, and you could almost swear there were tears in his eyes now too. “What did you even expect from agreeing to meet with me?”

His gaze moved to the ceiling, and he took a moment to think. He wasn’t really sure what he expected, but he didn’t think something like this would occur. It was a bit odd for you to read such frustration on him in the moment. Now that you were actually seeing him upset it just felt like something you wanted to run from. 

“I don’t know,” he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“Bit too late for sorry.” You finally pulled out a small box from your purse, slamming it down on the table and sliding it over to him, “You left this.”

Harry recognized it immediately, a small velvety black box. He knew it was the ring he had proposed with, but he was never expecting to get it back, he didn’t really want it back. You had still worn the ring for a week or two after the breakup, it was hard to imagine that it was all over. After that, you had probably spent hours staring at it, it had been one of the few things he had left behind with any sentimental value. 

It was a promise, so in a way it sparked some sort of hope that he might return. But then weeks passed, and he hadn’t even called. You couldn’t hold onto that hope any more, it was growing much too tiring.

“So it’s officially ended, then?” He reached for the box, clasping both of his hands over it and sadly closing his eyes.

“You decided for the both of us that it had officially ended when you left the apartment for the last time,” you stated, pulling yourself up from your seat. “I’ll see you at the wedding.”

The entire conversation had been much worse than you thought, but at the same time it was so much more freeing. You had finally been able to ask him for answers, though he still avoided it, and you had been able to express your emotions about it to him, even if it didn’t come out as you hoped. 

You had probably made yourself seem so broken, and really you were but you didn’t want to admit that to him. Harry hadn’t cared, right? Because if he had, the least he could’ve done was give you a reason. But he never did, or at least he never explained any reason.

Harry could always so easily make your blood boil. He could read everyone too well, and he always knew just what to say to get at a person. You had always viewed it as something he did in defense of himself, but what did he have to defend when he called off the engagement? Because even then, at a time where there wasn’t any need for him to so cruelly defend himself, he still had.  

And you couldn’t completely blame him for the conversation in the cafe going downhill so fast, even if he had been so frustrating through it all. He actually seemed to be upset about the situation, even if only in the slightest of ways, because even if he would do everything in his power to seem as if he was untouched by any pain you knew that it was impossible that he had walked away with no emotion towards the situation at all. 

You had been together for years, since the latter half of secondary school. Thea had always sworn that the two of you would always be together, and when it had fallen apart with him you weren’t sure why you had lashed out at her. There were bumps within your relationship too over time, sure, but there was nothing that would’ve made you think Harry was going to break up with you. It was sudden, it was random, it was unexplained.

He had proposed to you just months before breaking up, but your relationship had been going so well before. You had wondered if maybe it was the idea of commitment that possibly scared him away, but he had already committed deeply to your relationship. So maybe it was just the idea of marriage, and had it been you figured he would’ve just said that. Maybe, if it had nothing to do with him, it had been you.

He had said it was you, yet when you just came to that conclusion when talking to him he was trying to interrupt and say that it wasn’t true. It made you wonder if Harry even knew why he broke it off.

So much for finding answers. Talking with him did still seem to give you closure in some ways, because it had been nice to finally say your piece. There was more you wanted to say, though, and more you wanted to know. But you didn’t want to have to talk to him again, not really. 

And it was a time like this that only made you think back on your friendship with Thea. She probably would’ve demanded answers from him, too, had your friendship not ended. Now she was likely going to listen to Harry rant on about you, because for whatever reason they had grown closer. It didn’t feel like she deserved Harry as a friend, but at the same time did you deserve him as a partner when you had been hiding information from him?

You didn’t have Thea anymore, no, but you did have Andrew. You had told him you were planning to meet Harry, and he had advised you that it probably wasn’t a very good idea, especially not to do it the night before the wedding. But you weren’t able to work yourself up to talking to him sooner, and if you were honest you had hoped to use the wedding to avoid seeing him after. 

Andrew had always been somewhat of a shadow of the group, always there with a view of just what everyone was going through. He had known how things with Harry would go not just because you were close to him, but because he knew Harry still too. He had known it was sensitive for the both of you, and that the timing wasn’t the best choice. Andrew could’ve predicted that Harry would avoid talking about it, and that you would become defensive. And he could’ve predicted that Harry would’ve acted like it was you that ended the relationship, when he was the one to walk away. 

Andrew knew, but he wouldn’t ever rub any of it in, why waste the time to? There were times where you could see that he did want to rub something in, but only if it wasn’t harmful in any way. He didn’t see the point in hurting people any more than they already had been.

So even though he knew what was coming out of you meeting Harry, you knew that he still would listen to you go on about it, but you also knew he would challenge you. Still, you decided to go to the local pub with him to chat.

“I mean, he couldn’t stay? Some bullshit, isnt?” You questioned, turning to Andrew on your barstool, “It’s all he says, ‘I couldn’t stay’ but he never says why.”

Andrew was sidetracked, “Is he really the new maid of honour?” 

“Yes!” You groaned, dramatically rolling your eyes. “Don’t even get me going about that, can you believe that Thea replaced me with him?”

“Well… no one ever said she was replacing you, and we know Harry, he probably gave himself the title.” He swirled his whiskey glass, “Didn’t you expect Thea to give someone else the title?”

Yes, you had. But Harry? Why Harry? Like Andrew said, there was a good possibility that Harry had given himself the title, so really you shouldn’t think of it as something personal that Thea had done against you. If anything, you were more angry with Harry now for claiming the title himself.

“But,” he waved his hand, “this isn’t about Thea right now. Did he actually try to act like it was you that ended it?”

“Yes, probably to make himself feel better.”

“Make himself feel better? You had lied to him, hadn’t you? You’d think you’d need to feel better.” 

“I didn’t lie,” you quickly defended, “I just.. I didn’t tell him.”

“Ah, yes…” he nodded slowly, almost to mock your response, “you just didn’t tell him that you turned down an offer to work at the Louvre. It was the next best step in your career with art, and you stayed in London. Christ, you turned down fucking France,” he exaggerated and took a sip of his old fashioned, “to stay with Harry. And don’t get me wrong, I can understand why you did... in a way, I suppose...” he was skeptical. “But, maybe he was upset that you had stayed. You had never really given him a say in the matter, you just decided on your own.”

Harry would have every right to be upset about that, you regretted not telling him about it now. At the time, the job offer seemed to be something that you needed to keep to yourself, you didn’t want it to become this huge ordeal that would only cause a number of other problems. It was amazing, but it was so overwhelming too. 

It didn’t feel like a decision you were making for the both of you, because it was you receiving the offer. You had told yourself that it would’ve been different had you been considered taking the position from the start, but you never really had.

“I didn’t turn it down just because of Harry.” Which was true, you really hadn’t.

Andrew hummed, “Does he know that?”

“He hasn’t exactly given me the chance to explain that,” you replied bitterly. “He just walked out, you’ll recall.”

Only so much of it could be blamed on Harry, which you knew, and really you didn’t want to blame him at all. It’s much easier to point fingers and imagine that the blame only belongs to one person, when in truth you knew that it wasn’t so simple.

Andrew sat quietly, he could see that you were becoming defensive so he wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t your enemy in the case, and though he had also felt you should’ve told Harry, he couldn’t help but feel empathy for you. He knew that you were never thinking of accepting the offer, which he thought was insane, so he had known that you never said anything to Harry because you didn’t want to cause an uproar.

When you had told Thea about the offer she was immediately filled with excitement, knowing what that meant to you, always so supportive of everything you did. The two of you had spent years planning out your perfect lives together, and she had known that working at the Louvre would’ve been another step closer to your perfect life. 

She had been so thrilled about the offer that you had nearly considered accepting it, but you reminded yourself what you would risk if you did. You weren’t sure what motive Thea could’ve possibly had in telling Harry about that, other than she could’ve just felt that he deserved to know what you had given up. 

“This wedding isn’t easy for any of us, you know?” Andrew was running his thumb over his lips, “Everyone seems to be worried about such vastly different things.”

It was true, none of you had seemed to be focusing on even a single same idea. More so, none of you were even really focused on the main reason you were all there, Thea’s wedding. 

“We’re all being so selfish,” you rested your head on the counter. “This is supposed to be about Thea getting married, and here I am worrying about a relationship that ended two months ago. And everyone else is worried about themselves too, d’you think anyone’s even asked Thea how she feels about all of this?” You quickly sat back up, a bit of concern washing over you, which you didn’t fully understand. “She must be so overwhelmed right now, don’t you think?”

Andrew shrugged, “I’m sure Harry’s been checking in with her. She’s been waiting to marry Nick for a while, I’d imagine she’s excited.”

“Oh, piss off,” you scoffed, “we both know she’s probably considering calling it off as we speak.”

Thea’s relationship with Nicholas had always been complicated. It was happy, but it was complicated. Most people in the town had expected them to be together forever, and those that knew Thea and Tom always thought otherwise. You had wished she chose Tom, and even Andrew, Nick’s stepbrother, had wished she chose Tom.

She could be happy with Nicholas, of course, but you had been worried about how fast that happiness would fade. Thea had put her life on a back burner for the sake of everyone around her, and that greatly included Nick. You had never liked Nick for that reason, because he was so selfish with Thea. Nicholas never meant to be selfish, and if anything Thea had become just as selfish in their relationship. It would surely be a loveless marriage, but who were you to care anymore than a stranger might now.

You never could understand what she saw in Nick or Tom. Especially Tom, he was an utter dumbass, but you knew that she cared for him. The rest of your friend group had tried to get them to say something, anything, about their feelings towards one another, but it never happened. Rather, they had been driven away from one another.

It was completely unexpected that those two would become so distant, but then again none of the current situation ever seemed to be a possibility before. But for them, Tom hadn’t spoken to Dorothea since you all had moved to London. He made himself distant from the rest of you too, due to whatever had happened between the two of them. You knew she was still going to try inviting him, probably hopeful that you could all be reunited, but you also knew that it didn’t seem likely Tom would show.

You had barely spoken to him, he did keep his distance from even you, and he would never talk about Thea, he didn’t want to dwell. All you knew about him now was that Harry had moved in with him after the two of you had split up, and you hadn’t talked to Tom sense. You hoped Tom would come, but maybe it was just because you still had hope that it all could be fixed.

Though, you really didn’t know where things went wrong with your relationship with Tom. At least with Thea and Harry you had something to grasp onto, some sort of beginning to figure it all out. But Tom really had just cut himself off. You knew things ended horribly between him and Thea, but he still never explained why that meant he had to walk away from you.

You had always shared that reliability of keeping your feelings to yourself, and it had allowed you to confide in one another over time. You missed being able to talk to Tom like before, but it was something that he had begun to spoil five years before any of this. From there, things just tumbled down between the two of you, like it was one regret after the other. 

Your eyes were focused on your glass, gently swirling it around mindlessly, “D’you think Tom will be at the wedding?” Part of you was hoping that he might be.

“Apparently he’s at least considering.” Andrew sounded surprised, pulling your attention to him.

He was looking towards the pub’s entrance, then pulling your eyes to that direction instead. “What’re you talking about?”

“Tom’s… he’s just walked in?” He pointed, “Did you know he was in town?”

Looking to the entrance you saw Tom walking in, “No, I had no idea…”

He was looking around, so casually deciding where he would sit before seeing you and Andrew already there. You could tell he had spotted you, as he seemed a bit panicked, he probably came to be alone. And after months of ignoring you in particular, you thought that the last person he would want to be around would be you.

You weren’t sure when exactly he finally decided that you were someone he would avoid, because Tom’s timing on most things seemed completely random. You could recognize that your past together was what inevitably pushed him away, but why so sudden? And it was something that you were convinced you had both moved on from, so it didn’t make much sense to be a problem any longer.

Tom must’ve decided that it hadn’t really mattered anymore, finding himself joining you and Andrew as you sulked.

“What kind of drinking are you two doing tonight?” Tom asked, taking a seat beside Andrew.

“Just here for a distraction,” Andrew smiled weakly, “what about you? Why’re you even in town?”

Tom glanced at the two of you before facing his head down, “Not sure, really.”

It still felt so strange that he was there.

You moved closer to the edge of your seat. “Did Thea still invite you?”

“I’m sure she contemplated it for months.” He looked at you, “I heard about your… falling out. I’m surprised you were invited too.”

“That’s not the same,” you scoffed, “you shattered her heart and then ignored her for years. I…”

“Blamed her for Harry leaving?”

You hadn’t expected that he would jump right back into calling you out, but then again you had done the same to him.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes, “I’m not… I don’t want to fight with you tonight, can’t we just… drink and be glad to see one another again? All happy and whatever?”

You also hadn’t wanted to fight, though it was still very tempting. Things hadn’t ended well with Tom either, and he had given you as poor of a reason as Harry and Thea. But with Tom, you could’ve taken a better guess at why he left you.

You shouldn’t have cared anymore, why be bothered by someone who was pushing you out of their life? They clearly hadn’t wanted you. Still, your curiosity often got the best of you, and you had so many questions for Tom now, more than just ones to do with Thea too. You had once been so close with Tom, and now it was like you hadn’t known him at all. 

Then again, Tom had never been one for much consistency. Five years before, he had gone from gushing over Thea each day, to insisting that the two of you were suddenly meant to be in a timespan of maybe a week. And, as it turns out, after you gave you and Tom a shot, he was wrong about you being a perfect pair. But, you had been just as wrong about you and Harry.

Andrew cleared the silence, “So you did come for the wedding?” 

Tom sighed to himself, “I… don’t know.”

“Oh, you absolutely did,” Andrew chuckled. “But, and that’s a rather large but, if you didn’t… why are you here?”

There was silence for a few moments, which was what Tom had really come to the pub for. He hadn’t spoken to Andrew much within the past few months either, but he had somewhat missed Andrew’s ability to get him to talk so easily. They had been close once too, before you and Thea had met them or Harry. It had been Harry, Tom, and Andrew together, and you and Thea had known one another way before.

“I haven’t decided if I’m going yet,” Tom admitted. “I mean, can you believe it’s even happening?”

He already knew the answer both of you would give. No one thought that Thea would actually end up marrying Nick, at least none of you had. And he had known that you didn’t want the wedding to happen, though he recently struggled to see your indifference on the topic. Why should you waste your time worrying about them now?

“Nick…” he said in disbelief. “Of all people, she chose Dickolas?” It was a rather childish nickname Harry had thought of years ago, when you had all met Nick before Thea ever even dated him. “It’s the obvious decision isn’t it? Picking Nick allows her to have that… perfect life she always used to go on about, doesn’t it?” He spoke with venom, but he also seemed so tired. “I guess I just didn’t think she would actually choose Nick.”

“It was always Nick,” Andrew sat his glass down, “at least that’s what everyone around town is saying.”

Andrew had meant more in saying that than anything to do with just the Thea and Tom situation. He had probably known Nicholas better than the rest of you, though maybe not better than Thea now, considering they were step brothers now and had been for a handful of years. It was something he seemed to do his best to ignore, though he never fully explained why. Anyone could understand to an extent had they met Nick.

“That’s such bullshit,” Tom muttered to himself.

You shook your head in disbelief, “You’re saying it’s bullshit? You didn’t exactly give her any other choice when you left her-- when you left all of us.” Why defend Thea now? “I just don’t think you get much of a say when you didn’t exactly step forward.”

“Maybe I would’ve if I knew I ever had a chance,” he glanced at you before turning his gaze back to his glass. “You’re giving advice on choice making again? I don’t think any of our friend group gets to do that, maybe Andrew.”

Tom was right that you didn’t have much room to say anything about choice making, and Andrew did seem to be the only one of you that was capable of making the right decisions. Who were you to say a thing about anyone else’s choices? But it was still such bullshit that he was blaming you for him missing his chance with Thea.

“She didn’t choose him because I left,” Tom started slowly, “it was because he was a simple solution to her problem. Thea’s always had this… perfect picture of what she wants, and she’s apparently willing to give up everything she cares for to have it. And that’s all it is, a perfect picture.” He was biting his, taking a moment to think. “If you were to look through the curtains of their relationships I’m sure it’s…” he took in a sharp breath.

Andrew cut in, “We don’t get to make Thea’s choice, and we don’t get to judge them either.” 

“I’m not judging her.”

“You are.” Andrew gave Tom a knowing look.

“I’m not.” Tom placed his hands down, turning to Andrew, “I’m not judging her, I’m noting the fucking obvious. She was always willing to settle for Nick if it meant pleasing everyone else around her. You said it yourself, Andrew, the entire town has been expecting them to get married for years now, and you want to act like that hasn’t played into her decision?”

He was right again, it was very likely that it hadn’t played a huge part in Thea’s final choice. There was always a pressure on Thea’s shoulders to be perfect, given some of that pressure had been applied by no one else but herself. But it was still her decision, as much as any of you would disagree.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” you scoffed lightly to yourself. “The wedding is tomorrow, and if you didn’t do anything to stop their relationship years ago you aren’t going to now.” 

It wasn’t about Tom and his falling out with Thea, but there was some part of you that couldn’t help but place some of the blame there. It was Thea’s decision.

“I shouldn’t have to stop her. She should be able to do it herself,” he was shaking his head slowly, “and she should’ve walked away from him when we all left for London.” 

Andrew seemed to be growing tired of you and Tom, “Oh yes, because London worked so well for the rest of us.” 

“It only fell apart when we no longer had Thea,” you pointed out.

Tom gestured his drink towards you, “At least one of you can understand in some way.” 

And there you were again, back to the idea that this was somehow due to Thea not going to London. That had been when it started to crumble, and you couldn’t help but feel frustrated with her at that time for refusing to follow her true dreams.

“You’re both just as bad as Nicholas.” Andrew spoke quietly, watching the liquid in his glass as it swirled.

“Don’t compare me to him,” Tom snapped.

“Then stop acting like him,” Andrew smiled plainly towards Tom. “You both used her too. You do understand that, don’t you?” 

You were puzzled, “What?” 

“Mmm,” Andrew finished his drink. “You want to act as if you’re any better than Nicholas, but how can you be? The both of you loved Thea until you finally had enough of her-- until she stopped simply following your desires. It took you what,” he looked at you, “five minutes to fall down a rabbit hole of an idea that Thea was responsible for Harry leaving? And you, Tom.” He sounded so determined now. “You spent your entire relationship-- which was only ever a friendship because you ruined that more than once- avoiding admitting any of your actual feelings for her, yet that’s somehow only on her? What did the two of you expect?”

What did you expect? You had never thought that you used Thea, but had you? No. You couldn’t let yourself sit on that thought for long.

As for Tom, he couldn’t as easily say that. He had shattered her heart when he told her five years before that it was you he liked, not her. And he had done it again by telling her on and on about how she was bullshit for not being her own person, right before leaving town and proceeding to block her out of his life entirely. He had directly hurt her over and over, yet still wanted to act so innocent. 

There were things you undeniably had done that hurt her too, you weren’t going to pretend that you were perfect. Things that you thought were resolved before your falling out, unlike Thomas who was still refusing to even see Thea.

“Whatever,” Tom murmured, standing up to leave, “I didn’t come here to be given a lecture.”

“Then why did you come?” Andrew asked again, truly curious but at the same time only wanting  to be bitter.

Tom scoffed, “You seem to have all the answers, you tell me.” He began to walk away but quickly turned back, pointing a finger at Andrew, “You don’t get to act like you’re any better than the rest of us. I know how you feel about this wedding, and I know you’re just having a go at me because of whatever the fuck you’ve got going on.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be taking it so personally then?” Andrew lazily glanced at him, no longer wanting to bother.

You could tell Tom was biting his tongue, and he had decided to just leave after that. It wasn’t how you expected the night to go, especially considering you hadn’t even imagined you would be seeing Tom. It was curious that Andrew was now getting so defensive about the situation, it made you question if he really was going through something of his own like Tom had said.

It stung that your first interaction with Tom in months had turned out to be so sour. For whatever reason, you had such hopes that when the friend group was reunited again it would be much more pleasant, now here you were with Tom walking out, having returned the ring to Harry, avoiding Thea, and not knowing where you stood with Andrew at the moment. 

What was there to say now? You weren’t sure how to feel about the things Andrew had said, because maybe they were true. You didn’t want to fight him anymore, you were much too tired and it didn’t seem to have any purpose to continue fighting. 

Why had you come for the wedding? You hadn’t even seen Thea and the wedding was now less than a day away. You had told yourself that you couldn’t miss it though, because something about not attending felt worse than just going. You were still angry at her, and the blame for Harry was still very much being put on her shoulders.

That wasn’t on your mind when you had decided to go, though. When you told yourself you were going it was somewhat out of hope that you could make up with Thea, as much as you would deny it. You had known one another since birth, it was hard to imagine you wouldn’t be at her wedding even as angry as you were.

When you had decided to go you had a certain memory with Thea on your mind, one from your childhood. You thought of the fake weddings you used to throw in your back yards, nearly every time you got ring pops. The two of you would pick some flowers, adding in dandelions for good measure, and scatter them around the yard for decoration. Thea was always sure to dress her part, no matter the part. For whatever reason, you couldn’t stop picturing it. 

It didn’t seem to do you any good to remember it now, as you would only remind yourself about how things had gone wrong right after. This wasn’t something as simple as a faux wedding that was only being thrown because you had gotten ring pops that day. Thea was getting married, and you had handed your ring back to Harry. Things were so different now. 

Even as you now stood in the chapel, waiting for Thea to come out, you were second guessing whether you should’ve come. You were longing for your friendship to be mended, but was that enough to make going worth it? By this point it was much too late to turn back. 

You were standing with the rest of the guests now, next to Andrew whilst Tom was nowhere to be seen, it was no surprise. You looked to Harry, who was standing where you were meant to be not long ago. He still seemed so unbothered. You almost couldn’t believe that he had taken the title of maid of honour. You had wondered if it was an idea of his or if it was Thea, either way you were convinced that it was done out of spite. 

It was a shock to hear that he took the title. It hurt as his ex, but as Thea’s friend too. To you, it seemed to be the nail in the coffin, confirming that Thea didn’t want to make amends with you. You were meant to be the maid of honour, something that you had planned together and agreed upon during one of your ring pop weddings, now here you were having not even seen the bride in months.

The doors at the end of the aisle swung open, revealing Thea waiting with her arm linked to her father’s. She looked perfect, you knew she would. She had her pearl necklace resting gently against her chest, her makeup looked freshly finished. You could still sense the anxiousness that had seemed so plain to you, though no one else had seemed to be concerned. 

There were quiet compliments of her beauty, people smiling ear to ear with excitement that the day they dreamed of was finally there. But you couldn’t feel that excitement, to you it was the day that your childhood best friend was signing her life away. You were no longer allowed to have such concern, though.

You glanced around, thinking of the ridiculousness of the whole event. The entire wedding seemed like such a waste. It made you wonder, would’ve it felt this way if you were to marry Harry? Had he not left, had Thea never told him about the job offer, would’ve it felt like an attempt to have a perfect life?

The music began, pulling your eyes back to Thea. You could see the bouquet of flowers moving, you figured she was fidgeting with them in an attempt to distract herself. Beneath her flowers you could see a blue bracelet dangling. It couldn’t be.

When you were younger you had made friendship bracelets with one another, wearing them for years to come. You weren’t sure why she would still be wearing it at this point, it must’ve been something else, anything else. Whether it was that bracelet or not, you figure it was Thea’s “something blue” from the wedding rhyme she had been repeating even months before the wedding as she worried about having everything to fit the rhyme.

Thea’s eyes were darting all around the room, looking at anyone but Dickolas you had noted. You could’ve sworn that her eyes had landed on you too, even if for the briefest of ways. Her anxiousness was more clear and confirmed to you when you saw her eyes, as if she was begging you for help, of all people.

No, you probably were just imagining things. Why would she look to for help? If anything, she probably hadn’t even meant to glance your way. And of all the things she could’ve picked for something blue, why would she go with the bracelet from a broken and lost friendship? 

She took her first step. 

So it was really happening? Thea was going to give up even more of herself to live out a perfect life. It didn’t feel right in a way to have to stand and watch her destroy her life. You had warned her, before the fight. Maybe that’s why she had told Harry about France, she was trying to get back at you for saying time and time again that you hadn’t approved of the wedding. You couldn’t just stand by, though.

Another step, though her foot seemed to be filled with lead as she struggled to continue going. Maybe Thea had been second guessing too. But what for? This was the life she had sworn she dreamed of, the life that she needed everyone else to see.

You were still upset with her, but you couldn’t lie and say that you didn’t wish you could help her in the moment, even if it was in the smallest of ways. You could see that she was terrified, almost like she was wishing something would interrupt. It made you want to, to just step right into the aisle with her and run the other way. 

What a show that would be. You knew that it would make Harry angry that he hadn’t thought of it first, while Andrew would likely be disappointed in all of you. Had Tom been there too, he likely would’ve just followed along blindly, as he often did. The sentiment of the thought almost made you smile, before remembering how it had all fallen apart. 

“No.” You heard Thea whisper, now noticing that she had been frozen in place.

Everyone seemed to be confused, hardly even understanding what she had said. 

She was shaking her head now, “No.” 

As she took a step back her father tried to hold on and reassure her. “Thea? It’s okay.”

You could tell it wasn’t going to work, but you also didn’t believe that she would leave at this point even though you wished she would.

“No!” She yelled, causing everyone’s smiles to fade. “This is bullshit!” she pulled her arm away from her father.

No one could believe what they were seeing, Dorothea was about to walk away from her wedding. You had to stop yourself from smiling, a sense of pride filled you that she was really going to go. 

“Thea?” Her father questioned, trying to understand. 

There was no real point, you could see that she was no longer listening as she continued to slowly back away.

“Dorothea?” Nicholas was now calling for her.

You could feel a smile creeping back onto your face, but not in a way to make fun of Thea, you were glad that she was leaving. The entire thing was turning into more and more of a joke, though, surrounding itself with more and more drama and theatrics.

She was still looking at her father, “I can’t.” 

You had to pinch yourself to make sure it was really happening, Thea had begun sprinting back down the aisle and out the doors. Everyone was in complete shock, silence had fallen over the chapel while everyone tried to process what was happening. But how could anyone process that?

Most of the people attending had never suspected that she would have reason to run off, let alone even imagining that she would actually do it. And you, who had hoped from the beginning that she wouldn’t marry Nicholas, hadn’t expected her to run away. It was surreal.

You had wanted to follow, to make sure that she was okay as she went through whatever this was, but you weren’t sure that you had the right to anymore. As she gained more distance from the aisle, everyone began to realize what was happening. Nick had tried to follow her, her father too. Harry still seemed a bit surprised, somewhat of a smile on his lips too. 

“Should we follow her?” Andrew was concerned.

You didn’t know how to answer that, instead your smile seemed to be growing. “Maybe?”

Thea had lost her heel, along with the pearls and veil that she had ripped off in desperation to escape it all. You shouldn’t have found it funny, and really you didn’t, but it just didn’t seem real. There were people that were growing angry, at Thea but at you too for smiling.

“Maybe try not to be so happy about your best friend running from her wedding,” Nicholas’ mother, Gina, had spat at you.

Your smile remained, still growing wider at the occasion. More people had gone after her, most people now pulled away from their original positions. You had moved too, closer to the door to see where exactly she was going to be running off to.

Things just seemed to be getting worse and worse for your friend, you had recognized Tom’s car pulling in. She must’ve not known, or maybe she just hadn’t cared, because she jumped into the car and you could hear her demanding that he would drive her away. After that you could no longer hold back your laughter, it was too much of a storm.

Thea called out as the car pulled away, “Enjoy the lobster!”

You could only laugh harder at her words, while everyone else was taking the situation to be much more upsetting. People were still trying to run after, as if the car would be stopping. You wondered what drove her to finally do it, whatever it was it must’ve been something overwhelming, something to make her finally snap.

There wasn’t anything comical about it on the surface, so you couldn’t blame people for the looks you were receiving from them. The only other person that seemed to have even the faintest smile on them was Harry, who had been laughing right with you now. It was almost enough to make your laughter end, having been the only one laughing with him.

Was any of this even actually happening? You still weren’t sure. You were standing in a chapel, watching your old childhood best friend run away from her wedding and laughing along with the man you had returned an engagement ring to just the night before. Of everything that was happening, the most striking had to be that you were laughing with Harry again. Even that, simple laughter, felt like something so illicit.

Never would’ve you thought that you would end up here. Not five years ago, not two months ago, not even a day ago. You weren’t sure what to put your attention towards anymore. Did you focus on Thea? Or did you only consider yourself now? 

And it was ironic now that the memory of the ring pop weddings were what had drawn you into going to Thea’s wedding. It felt like you should’ve been running after her, that’s what you would’ve been doing had things not gone bad between the two of you. Harry should’ve been now, surely he recognized it as part of his new duties as her maid of honor. But, apparently he hadn’t.

He was approaching you, though you weren’t sure you could trust any of what you were seeing still. That had made your smile fade, it was reminding you of all the reasons you had not to be there anymore. You didn’t really belong anymore, and that was becoming more and more clear. Dicko-- Nick’s mother hadn’t wanted you there, lord knew Nicholas couldn’t care less one way or the other, and Thea probably hadn’t really wanted you there either. 

You could feel the tightening of your chest again, now you needed to escape from the chapel. Harry was stepping closer, you could tell he had recognized that you were suddenly growing much more anxious, but he had decided against pointing it out.

He decided on directing the attention back to the main event, “I can’t believe Thea took my advice…” What the hell did that mean? “I’ll start the car if you grab the cake?”

thea’s side

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[rosemaidenvixen]

A Secret’s Worth

Chapter 19: Toby

Ao3

Toby's chest hurt so bad it actually felt like someone was literally stabbing him in the heart. Still he didn't slow down, if anything he pedaled even harder. 

The girls were riding neck and neck with him, in just as much of a hurry to reach their destination.

He shouldn’t have flipped out at Jim yesterday. He shouldn’t have thrown back what he knew about the scars on his ankle just because he was pissed. Now this whole thing was ten times worse and it was all his fault.

It had been so hard, watching Jim go home every day for the past month and forcing himself not to say anything, even when Jim started to look more and more anxious every day. But you know who had it even worse? The guy doing the actual suffering.

Toby had heard the phrase victim blaming before, but he never really got it until now. He’d just been so insanely furious hearing Jim yell at them for lying when he hadn’t said an honest thing to them in months, and when they’d been doing everything they could to help him he hadn’t responded right--

The guy’s mom locked him in the basement and slashed up his ankle; what the hell was the ‘right’ way to act after that?

Now Jim was hurt really bad and he’d had to go to the hospital and he wasn’t in school today and he wasn’t answering his phone--

Toby needed to see if Jim was ok.

A throbbing pain that had nothing to do with the strain of pedaling uphill stabbed through his chest.

Or if not ok, alive and kicking.

He skidded to a stop on Jim’s lawn, stumbling off of his bike and running up to pound on the front door “Jim you’ve got about ten seconds to open this door before I’m breaking it down!”

Ok maybe that was the wrong thing to start off with considering he was there to apologize, but Toby would just add it to the list of things to grovel for forgiveness for after he saw that Jim was alright.

And just when he was about to make good on his threat, a hand grabbed his shoulder and started tugging him away. Toby jerked around to see who it was.

“Don’t try to stop me Darci,”

Her expression was soft in a way that made him feel even worse “I’m not, but Toby, I don't think anyone's home. All the lights are off and the car’s gone,” 

He snapped back around, heart plummeting when he saw that she was right. 

Jim and Dr. Lake weren’t here.

“And your Nana’s watching,”

Toby whirled, spotting Phil, one of Nana’s chess buddies, sitting in his car in their driveway with Nana stepping into the passenger seat. He stood there frozen for a few seconds before darting around Darci and sprinting across the cul de sac.

“Nana, wait! Stop stop stop!”

Phil, clearly startled, stopped the car in the middle of the street, Nana rolling down her window and poking her head out “Toby? What on earth is the matter?”

Besides the fact he didn’t want Nana witnessing him busting into Jim’s house, just because Jim had gone radio silent on them didn’t mean that Nana had stopped talking to Dr. Lake. So there was a chance she knew something they didn’t.

He slowed to a stop, panting “Have-- have you- have you heard what’s going on with Jim?”

Immediately her face shifted from confused to contrite “Oh yes Barbara told me, so sad that he got hurt, but he’s doing much better now,”

Toby heard the girls scurry up behind him.

“Do you know when they’ll be home from the hospital?”

“Didn’t Jim tell you?” Nana glanced at Phil, who took the hint and put the car into park before Nana turned and faced them again “They came home about two hours ago, but left for their spring break trip right away, Barbara and Jim won’t be back for about ten days,”

Toby actually felt his jaw drop open.

“B...But…” Claire stammered “Are they seriously going backpacking in Yosemite with Jim being all busted up?”

“I was surprised to, but Barbara said that Jim really didn’t want to miss their vacation, so they’re going to San Francisco and staying in a hotel instead,” the corners of Nana’s mouth tugged downwards into a frown, eyebrows drawing together “Did Jim not tell you any of this?”

Ok she had clearly picked up on the fact that things weren’t ‘Ok’ between Jim and them, and normally Toby would be trying to reassure Nana that everything really was cool, but right now he was too busy concentrating on not puking. 

They were gone. For ten days. Ten whole days Jim and Dr. Lake would be gone.

Plenty of time for another 'animal attack'. 

After an uncomfortably long silence Nana leaned back in her seat and redid her belt “I need to get to my cardiologist appointment now, but we can talk more when I get back,”

With that she nodded at Phil, who looked incredibly uncomfortable, but restarted the car and pulled away, leaving the four of them alone in the cul de sac, with nothing to do but slowly pick up their bikes and trudge into Toby’s garage. 

They’d screwed up. He’d screwed up. He’d screwed up so freaking bad. Yeah Jim was being a gigantic freaking hypocrite about the lying, but his mom locks him in the basement every other Tuesday. Of course the guy wasn’t acting rationally. 

He could still see the terrified look on Jim’s face while they yelled at him yesterday crystal clear.

And just because Jim was being a hypocrite didn’t mean that it wasn’t a dick move to lie to him about calling CPS.

And what they did yesterday….

Toby swallowed back another wave of nausea. Just thinking about what he’d done was enough to make him sick, he wanted to go back in time and smack some sense into himself.

He’d let his anger win out over everything else and started firing back at Jim, and then the girls had followed his lead. Pushing Jim so far over the edge that he went and started a fight with Psycho Steve of all people, who put him in the freaking hospital. Now Dr. Lake had taken him out of town and he wasn’t answering his phone--

His train of thought flew off the rails and crashed to a halt.

Jim and Dr. Lake were gone, and wouldn’t be back for over a week. Which meant that their house was going to be completely empty for that whole time.

Before the idea had even finished forming Toby knew what he had to do.

Immediately after propping his bike up against the wall Toby strode over to the toolbench and grabbed the items he was looking for. A doorstop, an unraveled wire coat hanger, and the biggest pair of bolt cutters Nana had been able to find at Home Depot.

Darci was the first to notice him “What are you doing with all that?”

“Snooping,”

Now Mary and Claire were looking at him to “What do you mean?”

“Jim and Dr. Lake are gone for spring break, and I think we all know that Jim is going to ignore any texts or messages we send. So I’m going straight to the source, I’m going into their house to get some real answers,”

The girls all shared an uncertain look “Toby…” Claire said slowly “You know that if you break in they won’t be able to use anything you find as evidence, right?”

He wilted a little, but tightened his grip on the bolt cutters at the same time “I know, but this might be the only chance to find out what’s really happening to Jim. And if I can figure that out, maybe I can figure out how to get Jim to let us help him,”

Toby turned and then hesitated, dragging the toe of his shoe on the concrete “I won’t ask you guys to come with me, but I need to do this,”

Knowing that if he waited any longer he was going to chicken out, Toby raised his foot and strode out of the garage, making a beeline for the Lake house. After a few seconds he heard footsteps behind him as the girls started to follow.

And even though he knew he’d do this alone if he had to, it felt really really good that he didn’t have to.

Once he got to Jim’s garage, Toby pulled a trash can up to the door and stood on it. Boosting him up high enough to wedge the door stop between the garage door and the frame, reaching in with the coathanger until he snagged the cord and pulled it down within arm’s reach. Cord in hand, Toby yanked until he felt it give, allowing him to slide up the garage door with ease.

Stepping down and picking up the trash can, Toby turned to go put it back when he saw Claire, Darci, and Mary staring at him with big eyes.

“Toby…” Mary said slowly “How did you know how to do that?”

“Oh, uh…” he felt his face heat up “Nana showed me how when Meow Meow PI got locked in our garage, then she made me promise not to tell anyone….so please don’t tell anyone,”

“We won’t but you are going to have to teach us that one,”

Once the trash can was back in place they headed in, Toby pulling the garage door shut behind them “Where should we start?” Darci whispered, even though it was only the four of them in the deserted house.

Toby glanced around, tool bench, picnic coolers, spare fridge, chest freezer-- He froze, eyes locked on the chest freezer pushed back against the far wall. The one that was always kept padlocked for reasons he’d never questioned until now. The only reason he could think of to keep a freezer locked would be--

He shoved the idea away before a picture could form in his head. 

But now he needed to see for himself to make sure that the thought he was desperately trying not to think about wasn’t true.

“Here,” he strode over, and with only slightly shaking hands, cut the metal U of the latch off with two snaps of the bolt cutters, the unopened lock clattering to the floor. It was actually easier than he thought it would be, of course the bolt cutters were ginormous compared to the latch.

The girls gathered in close as he popped the now empty latch and slowly lifted the lid.

First off there weren’t any dead bodies staring back at them, so that was good. It looked like the freezer was just stuffed with regular plastic grocery packages. But why put a lock on ordinary food? Maybe they really were worried about racoons, those were a menace in this neighborhood. 

Despite that perfectly rational, reasonable explanation, Toby couldn’t shake the feeling that something looked off about the food in front of him, something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

It only took a few more seconds of staring for him to figure it out. He didn’t recognize any of the labels on these packages. And he and Jim had done a lot of grocery shopping together. Jim going on and on about all the subtle differences in flavor between different items and different brands.

That’s how Toby knew with absolute certainty that this stuff wasn’t anything you could buy at any grocery store in Arcadia Oaks. Because in all of their trips shopping together, they’d never bought any of the items in this freezer.

Reaching past him, Claire gingerly picked up something shrink wrapped in blue and yellow plastic “Beef sweetbreads?”

Toby eyed the package suspiciously “Bread doesn’t come from beef,”

“Sweetbreads aren’t bread, they’re organ meat,”

“Ew,”

“Hey they’re actually pretty good when you cook them right,”

Even more curious now, they all started reaching in and rifling through the frozen packages in front of them.

“It looks like this is just a bunch of meat,” Darci said while holding up a bag of beef bones by the corner between her thumb and forefinger.

Mary wrinkled her nose at a package of chicken livers “Yeah, but I’ve never seen Jim cook with any of this stuff,” she peered in Toby’s direction “Have you?”

His mouth went dry, nausea creeping back in “No, I haven’t,”

They kept digging, plastic packs of meat piling up on the floor around them, and the deeper they went the weirder things got. Eventually hitting what looked like whole small animals, cleaned and skinned and sealed in shrink wrap. Toby lifted one of them out, guts squirming in his belly “Guys, what are these?”

Claire leaned over and read off a tiny label on the corner of the package “It says whole rabbit,”

This kept getting freakier and freakier, Jim had never cooked rabbit meat before, let alone roasting them whole. 

Darci and Mary cleared off the rest of the rabbits to uncover a massive package at the bottom, one that would have taken all four of them to lift out, bright red of raw muscle showing clearly against the white of the freezer. But unlike everything else in here, this one had clearly been opened and resealed multiple times, with chunks of meat taken off, proving that someone was taking stuff out of this freezer and using it on a regular basis 

“This one says whole bison leg,” Darci said quietly.

A chill went through him, and not because he was standing in front of an open freezer.

“Oh my god, I just can’t--” Mary darted away, running to the wall farthest away from the freezer and slumping against it, gasping and shaking. Claire immediately ran over and put an arm around her shoulders, leaving Toby and Darci standing in front of the freezer.

“Toby,” Darci’s voice was a monotone, her eyes locked on the frozen leg in front of them “Are you absolutely sure that Jim never cooked with any of this stuff,”

“Positive,”

“Then...what do they do with all this?”

Toby’s stomach shrank in on itself “I don’t know,”

Were they trying to bait racoons or something? It was the only thing Toby could think of, but if they were, why? And he was pretty sure there was a lot cheaper stuff out there they could use for racoon bait. But if they weren’t using it as bait then what they hell were they doing with all this weird meat? And why the lock?

Pulling in a deep breath through her nose, Darci slowly started putting the packages they’d taken out back in the freezer “Ok, we’re not going to find anything else out here, we need to clean up and keep looking,”

Fighting past the painful tightness in his abdomen, Toby grabbed a rabbit and joined her. Claire eventually came over to help them, but Mary stayed far away until the lid of the freezer was shut.

“Um, Toby…” she said, walking back up to join them “How are we going to put the lock back on when you cut it off?”

“Easy,” he walked over to the toolbench and picked up a small bottle “Instant set Gorilla glue,”

And with two quick dabs of glue and Mary holding the pieces for him, the lock and the latch looked nearly as good as new. The latch did look a little funky from where the cutters had gone through, but Toby was pretty sure Jim and Dr. Lake wouldn’t notice it.

Now time to search the rest of the house.

Toby headed through the side door into the main house with the girls just behind him, pausing just inside the hall while he tried to figure out the best place to search first.

“Let’s look in Dr. Lake’s bedroom,”

All three of them slowly turned towards Mary.

“I mean…” her cheeks filled with red “If she’s hiding something chances are it would be in there,”

Claire nodded at that “You’re right, let’s go,”

The girls headed towards the stairs, but Toby hung back. Darci paused at the foot of the stairs, glancing back at him “Everything ok Toby?”

Even knowing what he knew, about the basement and the scars and all the other strange stuff. There was a part of him that still thought of Dr. Lake as….Dr. Lake. His friend’s fun, sometimes goofy mom, the one that took them to theme parks and gave the best presents on birthdays and holidays, who was never too busy to talk and always happy to see him. Going into her room and snooping through all her stuff felt...wrong.

All the girls were looking at him now, seeing what the hold up was.

Toby clenched his jaw and raised his head.

But no matter how bad he felt about it Toby couldn’t let his guilty conscience get in the way. Dr. Lake….Dr. Lake wasn’t who he thought she was, and Jim was in real trouble. This was the only way he could help him. That meant he had to suck it up and follow through.

He’d come this far already.

“Y-- yeah I’m fine, let’s go,” Toby forced his feet to move and followed them up the stairs into the back bedroom. His throat tightening when he saw Mary dive straight into going through her dresser, even as he set aside his tools and got down on his knees to join her. 

They spent nearly two hours going through the room from top to bottom. Searching the closet, every drawer in the dresser, under the bed and in the nightstand, every single nook and cranny in the room, even under the mattress. But they didn’t find anything. Just clothes, jewelry, and books.

Toby glumly replaced the socks back in the drawer he pulled them out of. If there was anything hidden in the house it wasn’t in here. So all they’d managed to accomplish was violating Dr. Lake’s privacy. But if there wasn’t anything in her bedroom then where else would--

“Toby,” Claire spoke up, startling him “Do you know if this house has a crawlspace, or an attic?”

He paused with his hand halfway out of the sock drawer. The Lakes had both a crawlspace and an attic. He’d seen the crawlspace, a small cubby in the basement full of their Christmas decorations, but the attic--

Dr. Lake had only mentioned once that they did have an unfinished attic, even shown him where it was.

And then said that he should never ever go up there.

“Their crawlspace is full of Christmas decorations, but I’ve never seen inside the attic. Dr. Lake said it was off limits,”

That got the girls’ attention.

Mary got to her feet “Where is it?”

“Closet, in the ceiling,”

Immediately they all made a beeline towards the closet, Mary pulling open the doors and revealing the square cut out of the plaster in the ceiling. 

Claire frowned “How is one of us supposed to get up there?”

“I’ll do it guys,” Darci stepped forward, shoulders square and mouth set in a firm line “I’m the tallest, just give me a boost,”

Positioning themselves directly under the hole, Mary and Claire each grabbed one of Darci’s legs and lifted, allowing Darci to push aside the cut out square of ceiling and poke her head into the darkness of the attic beyond.

“A little higher guys, I need to get a good grip to pull myself up,”

Claire and Mary obliged, raising Darci until she was waist deep in the attic, allowing her to kick off from the palms of their hands and vanish into the dark hole. After a few seconds Toby saw a small light, which had to be from Darci’s cellphone, blink on, illuminating the bare wooden beams of the unfinished space. 

“You see anything Darc?” Mary called up at her.

The light bobbed around in the small space above them, ceiling creaking under her as Darci moved around “Nothing so far, there’s a lot of fiberglass insulation so I have to be careful not to…”

All of a sudden the creaks stopped, the light staying frozen in one spot.

“Darci,” Toby forced the strangled word out “What’s going on?”

Things were silent for a few more seconds before they heard her voice again “There’s a box here guys, and it doesn’t look like Christmas decorations,”

With some tricky maneuvering, Darci managed to push the box down the hole, where Toby and Claire caught it. Quickly moving it off to the side so the three of them could catch Darci as she jumped down. Once she managed to untangle herself from them they all turned their attention back to the box.

Toby pushed it out of the closet so there was enough room for all of them to huddle around it. The box was about the size of a microwave, dark metal and surprisingly heavy for its size. It looked like one of those heavy duty water/fire/apocalypse proof boxes, and fortunately it wasn’t locked, meaning they wouldn’t need the bolt cutters. Trembling, terrified of what he might find, Toby popped the latches and lifted the lid. 

Part of him was worried that when they opened it they wouldn’t find anything but boring adult papers, bills and insurance stuff like that, but one look and he knew that wasn’t going to be the case.

Inside were two black bags, a large plastic one and a small felt one, and some kind of weird plastic rectangle. Mary reached in and pulled out the small bag first.

They all watched her tug the drawstrings open, not even daring to breathe as she turned the bag over and dumped the contents out. 

A bunch of loose teeth and a bundle of black hair in a rubber band tumbled onto her hand.

Just when Toby thought this couldn’t get any more confusing “What the hell is all that?”

Claire poked at one of the teeth sitting in Mary’s palm “This looks like stuff from an animal,”

It certainly did. That hair could easily be fur, and those teeth would have been right at home on a bear’s mouth. Big and sharp and clearly from a meat eater.

A locked freezer full of strange meat, animal parts hidden away in the attic. Toby still couldn’t put the pieces together, but it wasn’t shaping up to be anything good.

They spent a good minute staring at them before Mary poured the teeth and hair back in the bag “We aren’t going to learning anything by staring at teeth, let’s keep going,”

Claire grabbed the large bag just as Mary was replacing the small one, setting it in front of her and untying the straps to peer down inside.

Toby crawled closer “What is it? What’s in there?”

“It looks like...bath bombs,”

“What? No way,” Darci scooted up to Claire’s side and glanced down at the open bag “Huh, it does look like bath bombs,”

It took Toby a few seconds to realize they weren’t talking about actual explosives “Bath bombs,” he said incredulously “You mean like those fizzy scented things you put in the tub, those kind of bath bombs?”

Claire got to her feet “Only one way to be sure, follow me guys,,”

They tailed after Claire down the hall into the bathroom, where she promptly started filling the tub. Once there was about a half a foot of water inside she reached into the bag, pulled out a grainy pink ball, and dropped it in the water.

As they gathered in close and watched, a cloud of pink bubbles fizzed up around the sphere, filling the tub with pink foam and the scent of--

“Huh,” Toby sniffed “Roses,”

Mary reached a hand into the water, swirling it around before emerging slightly pink “It looks like they are just bath bombs,”

Ok this was getting really weird. Bath Bombs and animal parts weren’t exactly criminal, but what were they doing locked up in a secret attic box?

For a long time Toby had thought that the curfew and the locking in the basement was because of what Nana told him. That Dr. Lake was so scared of losing Jim she’d started doing some messed up things in order to keep him.

But after learning about the scars he started wondering if that was actually true. And now after seeing the meat and the animal parts and the bath bombs…

It was starting to look like all of this was just scratching the surface of something a lot bigger.

And there was still one more thing to check out.

After draining and rinsing the tub, they all went back to the bedroom and gathered around the box again, where Toby picked up the final item inside it, the plastic rectangle.

He turned it over a few times, trying to figure out exactly what it was when it clicked, filling him with a jolt of exhilaration.

“Guys I think this is some kind of book,”

Books meant data, information. Maybe even the answers behind the bath bombs, teeth, and weird meat.

Mary kneeled down next to him “Can you get it open?”

“I’m trying, but there’s a combination lock, and the thing’s completely sealed so I can’t just bust it open with the bolt cutters without destroying it, and--”

They all jumped as a deafening chime rang through the house.

The doorbell.

Toby’s heart shot up into his throat like lightning, beating hummingbird fast as the bell kept ringing again and again. 

Hearing the sound shattered his focus like a harsh slap, forcing Toby to remember exactly where he was and what he was doing.

He was in someone else’s house.

They’d come in without permission by breaking into the garage. 

They were breaking and entering.

They were committing a crime.

If they got caught it wouldn’t be extra homework or detention they had to deal with.

If they got caught they would get in real trouble.

For the first time Toby knew he wasn’t being melodramatic when he imagined getting arrested and sent to juvie.

Toby shot his head up and saw that the girls had the exact same panicked, horror-stricken looks on their faces that he knew he had on his. From down below the doorbell kept ringing again and again.

The locked book slipped from his hands and fell to the carpet with a dull thunk.

Oh fuck. 

“Guys we need to get out of here now!”

They all simultaneously jumped to their feet, Claire practically throwing the bag of bath bombs back in the box, and after fumbling with it for a few seconds Toby managed to toss the book in after it, Darci slamming the lid shut while muttering ‘oh god’ over and over again.

Frantically dragging the box back towards the closet, they figured out really fast that getting the box up was going to be a lot harder than getting it down, especially considering they were all freaking out. After running around like idiots for a few seconds, they got it together enough to hoist Darci up to the attic again, and then raise the box to where she could grab it and put it back, before dropping down from the attic herself. 

Meanwhile the doorbell continued to ring over and over, each chime practically giving Toby a heart attack, as they raced around the room, replacing items and shutting drawers and removing every trace of their snooping.

“Claire what the hell are you doing!?” Mary hissed.

Toby glanced over to see Claire standing in the doorway staring down the stairs to where the front door was “C’mon Claire we have to hoof it before Jim and Dr. Lake come in!”

“But...why would Jim and Dr. Lake be ringing the doorbell of their own house?”

Toby, Mary, and Darci all stopped dead

Claire was right, if Jim and Dr. Lake were back they’d just come right in without even touching the doorbell. But then who was ringing it? If it was just a salesman or something wouldn’t they leave as soon as they figured out no one was home? Whoever this was had been ringing the doorbell for nearly five minutes with no sign of stopping.

“New plan!” Mary piped up, voice a full octave higher than normal “Sneak out the back, then circle around through the bushes, act like we’re just out walking and see who it is,”

Toby nodded shakily along with Claire and Darci, leave it to Mary to come up with a plan under extreme pressure.

After double checking and making sure they’d gotten rid of all evidence of their break in, Toby grabbed his tools and ran to the stairs “Quick guys, go go go!” 

Not wasting a second the girls scampered down the stairs on light feet, Toby following after, the unrelenting doorbell even louder on the first floor.

They made a beeline for the back door, Toby going out last and locking it behind them. Following them, he ran over to the fence and, in a feat only possible to the insane amount of adrenaline shooting through his veins, hopped it in two bounds and dove into the shrubbery, joining the girls. 

“Everyone ok?” Darci whispered, crouching low in the undergrowth.

“Yeah,”

“Uh huh,”

“Yep,”

It was all Toby could do not to collapse, gasping for breath and quivering all over from equal parts relief and leftover panic. 

They’d gotten away with it. He was pretty sure they’d gotten away with it. No one had seen them and they hadn’t left any evidence behind. Although they hadn’t had time to wipe their fingerprints off of everything, or get rid of their DNA, hopefully Jim and Dr. Lake wouldn’t realize that their house was broken into at all. And even if they did there was no reason for the four of them to be suspects.

They were fine. No one was going to get arrested.

Although now that the adrenaline was starting to fade, Toby was pretty sure he was going to have some wicked bruises from his landing. 

Mary sank lower the the ground, perched on her hands and knees “Keep to the plan guys, let’s sneak around to the other side,”

They all followed her lead, Toby forcing his breathing to slow and become quieter, crawling through the bushes until they emerged on the sidewalk around the corner. Standing and shaking off the leaves and branches, Toby tucking the cutters, hanger, and stopper in a bush to retrieve later. 

“Let’s go,” Mary took the first steps towards Jim’s house. A few months ago Toby would have thought she was completely relaxed about the whole thing, but now he could see just how on edge she was.

Toby walked after her, along with Claire and Darci, trying to be as casual as humanly possible without completely overdoing it. 

Nothing to see here. Just a group of teens out walking around, as teens did. No criminals here.

He had to try especially hard to act normal as they were heading around the corner of the block, breath catching in his chest as Jim’s house, and the mysterious bell ringer came into sight. 

It was some scruffy looking guy, messy looking beard and jeans and a jacket that had certainly seen better days. Not a particularly scary looking guy, but it certainly didn’t look like he was there to sell anything.

Feeling bolder now that they were out in broad daylight and not at risk of being caught mid-felony, Toby came right up to where the front steps met the sidewalk, the girls stepping up next to him, with scruffy standing less than ten feet away. Fidgeting and pressing the bell every ten seconds or so, face crimped in frustration.

Of course this close they should have realized it was inevitable that the mysterious scruffy man was going to notice them.

“Oh hey!” he jogged across the porch towards them, causing them all to shuffle backwards involuntarily “You kids know the people who live here?”

“Why do you want to know?” Mary said warily

“Oh-- I heard from my buddy that CPS has been sniffing around, and Barb took Jim out of the hospital without checking him out yesterday, so I’m trying to see if they’re ok,”

Instantly uneasy, Toby glanced over at the girls, the three of them looking just as tense as he felt. The whole leaving the hospital without being checked out was news to him and definitely not good. But even more alarming was the fact that although this guy apparently knew Jim and Dr. Lake, Toby had no idea who he was. And by the looks of it, neither did Darci, Claire, or Mary.

“So do any of you know when they’ll be back?”

Claire took half a step forward “Sorry but...who are you again?”

“Oh! Well I…” scruffy trailed off, letting out a gusty breath and running hand through his hair “You see I’m--” all of a sudden he cut off and looked over at them sharply, Toby flinching as the man locked eyes with him.

“Toby! Come on, you know me, right bud?”

His heart stopped, blood running cold. From the corners of his vision he could see the girls pull around him protectively “Who are you, how do you know my name?”

“Come on,” the man grinned, as if they were all old buddies “You know me, from back when I used to live here,”

Toby just kept staring at him blankly. Used to live here? The only person he could think of that used to live here was--

No. It couldn’t be.

He looked at him again, really looked, comparing the shape of the jaw, the scraggly beard to the ones from his murky, half faded memories.

“Hang on,” Toby slowly raised a finger to point at the stranger who might not be a stranger “You mean that you’re--”

“That’s right,” he flashed them a smile, painfully familiar now that he could see the resemblance “I’m Jim’s dad,”

[elizabethemerald]

Jim is Honest

Jim Lake Jr lies again and again to his loved ones. What if instead, he told the truth? How would that affect his relationships, and story of Trollhunters? Let’s look at all the major lies and omissions Jim made and let’s turn them on their head. This time Let’s say Jim is Honest.

Barbara picks up Jim and Toby from the Arcadia Police. She's angry and annoyed, but she also distracted by Walter's motivations. Jim's reveal that changelings exist sparks a sudden realization.

AO3

"Mom, did you just ask out my teacher?"

"Oh don't make this about me. You two are in big trouble. And for this?" Barbara held up the chubby tracker, her voice tight with her anger. 

She started the car and pulled away from the police station. Her mind was whirling. Jim was a good kid, he had never gotten in trouble before, and now here he was breaking and entering. And her thoughts kept returning to Mr. Strickler. After a few minutes of awkward silence Jim took a deep breath. 

"Uh mom. We didn't break in just for the chubby tracker." He said from the back seat. 

"Dude!" Toby whispered. 

"Toby I told her about the trolls. She knows I'm the Trollhunter." Jim whispered back. 

"Oh. Should I tell my Nana?" Toby asked. 

"That's up to you. I'm the one Bular wants to kill."

"So this had something to do with Trolls?" Barbara interrupted. 

"Yeah. One of the goblins we faced yesterday stole Toby's chubby tracker. We were able to use the tracker to find they were staying in the museum."

"We were going to just scope the place out but then we saw Ms. Nomura the museum lady!" Toby shouted. Barbara winced as his volume in the small space. "We thought the goblins might be laying eggs in her ears so we had to rush in and save her!"

Barbara made eye contact with Jim in the mirror. Goblins lay eggs in people's ears? Toby kept talking before she could ask. 

"And when we got inside I saw her, and Jim was trying to come up with a way to convince her to leave and suddenly she changed! She became a troll!"

Barbara almost slammed on the breaks as she turned around to face them. "She what?"

Jim took up the story from there. "Apparently she could switch between appearing human and troll. She attacked us. I was only able to stop her by tricking her into killing on the goblins. They all ganged up on her."

"Jim, how is that possible? Has Blinky mentioned anything like that?" 

"Blinky hasn't, but Mr. Strickler has."

"What did Mr. Strickler say?"

Jim was silent for a moment deep in thought. "He said he had heard about some legends regarding trolls. About troll babies had been kidnapped and switched with human ones. They had all kinds of magic done on them. And now they're basically slaves. He called them changelings. Maybe that's what Ms. Nomura is!"

Barbara's mind was now whirring faster than ever. So some trolls could take on human form. That made the actions of a certain history teacher very interesting. 

"Did he say anything else about these changelings?"

"Yeah, he said that since I don't have the same biases as a troll, that maybe I could reach across old battle lines, offer a changeling my hand." He paused and looked at his own hand. "I don't think she wanted to take my hand."

"At least not while it's still attached to the rest of you!" Toby put in. Barbara watched her son grimace in her mirror. They were almost to the Lake house. After she pulled into her driveway she turned to face the two boys in the back. 

"I'm glad you are both unharmed. And I'm glad your first thought was to try and save that woman's life. But you both have to remember that there are still laws. Don't you think Bular would have been happy if you were stuck in prison? He could do anything he wanted and you would be powerless to stop him."

"So you're saying-"

"I'm saying if you're going to break into a building on Trollhunting business, next time don't get caught." Barbara said with a slight smile. The two boys relaxed. "But I will still have to go through the motions of making sure you two are grounded, to maintain our cover."

The smiles dropped off their faces, but she could see the twinkle in their eyes. "Head home Toby. Get some sleep."

The other boy got out of her car and hurried across the street to his house. Barbara and Jim walked inside their own home. As she set her stuff down, Jim fidgeted near the door. 

"Hey, since I was honest with you would answer a question for me?" He asked. 

Barbara was in the middle of preparing herself a cup of tea. "Sure thing kiddo."

"Are you actually planning on dating my teacher?"

Barbara almost snorted at the concerned tone in his voice. 

"If the situations were different, I might consider it. He's handsome, charming-"

"Gross mom!"

"Honesty, remember?" Barbara paused, getting her thoughts in order. "Have you told Mr. Strickler that I know about your Trollhunting?"

"No. It hasn't come up in our conversations yet."

"I know you're trying your best to be honest with us, but I wouldn't tell him if I were you."

Jim looked at her quizzically. "What are you thinking?"

"Now I only really have my instincts to go on…" she waited for Jim to nod. "But Walter's story just doesn't seem to make sense to me. You tell him trolls exist, and he feels that information is dangerous. Dangerous enough to make up a secret code so you two can discuss it."

Barbara took a sip of her tea and passed a cup to Jim as they both sat at the dining room table. Then she continued speaking. 

"And then he doesn't tell me? What would he do if something happened to you? Would he try and cover it up from me?" She looked away, even thinking of something happening to her child was a struggle, but if his life was in danger she wasn't going to be able to help him if she didn't think out the dire possibilities. "And then he tells you about changelings, trolls who can take on human form. Tells you, you have the chance to offer your hand. How would a human history teacher know about the wars between trolls?"

"You think Mr. Strickler is a changeling!" Jim stood up so fast he almost knocked his chair down, he immediately ran his hands through his hair. Barbara noticed his amulet started glowing in his bag. 

"I think it's possible." Barbara frowned. "But now we have to ask ourselves, why? How does Mr. Strickler, potentially a secret changeling troll benefit from telling you this information? It's possible that changelings are treated as poorly as he said, and he wants to change sides. Or he could be trying to trick you. Get you to drop your guard."

Jim rubbed the back of his head. "This is more complicated than I thought it would be. What do you think I should do?"

"Talk to Blinky. See how much of Mr. Strickler's story you can verify. We'll create a plan from there." 

He nodded, then fidgeted again. “You still didn’t answer my question. Are you planning on dating my teacher, even though you think he’s a troll?”

Barbara laughed. “Oh no, I’m not planning on dating him.” She laughed again at the thought. “I can tell he finds me attractive and I’m using that to my full advantage.”

She wiped a few tears from her eyes, then her face grew serious. “If he truly wants to change sides in this war it will put me in a great position to offer him my hand, as he puts it. And if he is trying to manipulate you into making yourself vulnerable? Jim you are my everything, I would use every tool in my possession to keep you safe. And if that includes a little harmless flirting? Walter Strickler will find that I can play his game just as well as he can.”

Shortly after that he went to bed. They had both agreed to pretend he was grounded to avoid suspicion. Barbara had no desire to punish her son when he thought he was saving Ms. Nomura's life. 

Still he would need to be more careful. They all would, if trolls could take on human form, their threats could come from anywhere. Would Jim be safe at school? Would she be safe at the hospital? She carefully looked around the house, would they be safe here, even in their own home?

[neverendingdream111]

Sk8 found family brainrot time

(I've recently finished watching it and I'm in love with this idea)

-> ok I'm a sucker for our catboy Miya, ngl

-> so let's start here

-> imagine it was his b-day, he woke up somewhat excited bc everyone loves this one special day of the year

-> he walks to the kitchen, his parent are eating breakfast and continuing with their routine as usual on a work day

-> his excitement dies slightly bc they didn't even realize he was there

-> it's basically canon at this point that his parents are assholes and care only about his fame

-> so he reluctantly enters the kitchen and greets them, meekly adding that it's his b-day a few minutes later

-> they try to mask their surprise with wishing him happy birthday and saying that they'll buy him a present after work

-> he barely manages to contain the scoff bc he knows they'll probably have to stay overtime

-> turns out he was right

-> he kind of expected it tbh, it's not like they don't do it every year

-> anyway, he went to school like he normally would, and since he doesn't have many friends (if he has any) nothing was out of ordinary

-> a bit gloomy, he came home seeing that no one was back yet

-> so he sat down at his desk and started doing his homework

-> just as he was finishing he got a message from Reki that all of them are meeting at Joe's restaurant before going to "S"

-> he replied with "See you there" and closed his books, going to the kitchen to make himself something to eat (some leftovers from yesterday's dinner and a protein bar)

-> it was dark already when he left

-> when he arrived, it was oddly dark inside and so he called out if anyone was there

-> suddenly, the lights were turned on, blinding him for a second, and in the next he heard a loud "SURPRISE!" along with some popping sounds (prbbly confetti)

-> when he opened his eyes, he saw that the tables were arranged mostly to the sides of the small space in the restaurant, except for one in the middle on which was a cake decorated just like his skateboard with sprinkles on top

-> everyone was standing next to it with grins on their faces

-> he was too stunned to realize he was crying, only noticing it when they started asking him if something was wrong and Reki came closer, seriously worried that something bad happened

-> Miya started furiously wiping his face, but the tears just wouldn't stop coming

-> "s-stupid slime! Of course I'm okay!" he wasn't

-> no one ever, and I mean ever, have prepared a surprise party for him, and the whole situation with his parents just made him more, well, emotional

-> they all just laughed it off and hugged him (family hug!!! they even forced Kaoru, tho he did beat Joe up later for that)

-> Miya even got a small birthday hat with a pompon on top (they bought it as a joke, though his inner child and cat wasn't complaining, especially about the pompon)

-> then it was time for the cake and, after he made a wish, Joe was assigned to cut it into pieces and then they sat down, talking about everything that came to mind

-> they almost forgot about the presentssss!!!

-> Reki gave him some wheels for his skateboard specifically designed by him, along with one or two mini-skateboards that he sometimes plays with

-> Langa, being the confused bean that doesn't really know what people would like to get, bought him a small black and purple keychain in a shape of a cat and a figurine of said animal (when the others asked why, he said that Miya sometimes gives off cat-energy and tho he got an earful from the boy he still didn't change his mind as he should)

-> the best uncle in the world, Shadow, gave him sweets and other kinds of junk food, bc he thinks that Miya should live a little and stop eating those goddamn protein bars

-> Cherry is rich, we all know that, so he got him a new videogame (cue to Kojiro arguing with him, but who's surprised at this point?)

-> and Joe gave him cookies (baked by him obvsly) and some new headphones (even though they weren't from the top shelf, they were good enough to not break in a week of using or so, and also they looked stylish so why not)

-> all in all, Miya was so touched he almost cried again

-> he kind of let it slip that he never had a party like this and in the emotional moment didn't deny that he truly felt grateful for having them

-> yes, that's right, that's Shadow crying while hugging the poor boy

-> this day may have started and somehow turned into one of the worst days in the entire year, but in the end it just helped him realize that he got really attached to these idiots that were now arguing about God-knows-what

-> and he wouldn't trade this family for anything in the world

*cries*

26.04.21

~Nana

[neoskidz]

The Heart Stealer || Na Jaemin

WC. 1.5K 

GENRE. Fluff / Phantom thief!au / High school!au

ELSIE’S NOTE. This is an old fic I had published before, titled “His Fallen Star”. The content itself doesn’t that much different, but with some upgrade. And some of you might be familiar from which anime this fic was inspired ;) 

SUMMARY. 

Being one of the famous detective’s closest childhood friends does have its perks, especially when a certain phantom thief takes interest in you. Little did you two know, this thief is closer than you thought.

TAGLIST. [Networks] @czennienet​​ @neowritingsnet​​ @dreamwritersnet​​ @nct-writers​​

Being one of the famous detective closest childhood friends do have its perks; such as him taking you to every case he works on to sharing secrets about a mysterious Black Organization that keeps targeting him. But of course, you’d promised to keep all that information to yourself as well as helping him with preventing the others from finding out. He didn’t want to worried them than they already were now.

Tonight was the grand opening of the museum which location that you found rather odd; it’s built quite far from the city where, you have to admit, wasn’t really your usual construction site for historical museums and people that invited to the grand opening were no other than conglomerates. 

The only reason for you—an normal high school student with no power or status—to be invited to the celebration was because of a certain famous detective who wanted to tagged you along. But, he’s already gone off into the sea of guests, leave you alone without knowing what to do. You tried to remember the phantom thief’s notice while looking around the room.

When the rays of light have been curtained by the earth’s dark shadows, I shall strike, and steal the fallen star.  

Paused in your tracks as you took a moment to process the riddle in the notice. ‘When the rays of light have been curtained by the earth’s dark shadows, I shall strike… that means he’s coming when the sun sets.’  Your gaze travelled forward and landed on a glass case-located on the stage in the middle of the crowded room-covered under a thick, red cloth where the “Fallen Star” placed.  

You furrowed your brows, something’s not right here. The notice was so straightforward, too straightforward for the phantom thief’s term. It must have some meaning behind the notice.

“[Name],” You turned around to saw Mark ran toward you. “Find anything suspicious?”

“Yeah. It’s about the-” You tried to tell him about the strange notice but was interrupted when a bearded-old-man, who is suspected to be the owner of the museum walks to the main stage where the Fallen Star been shown, spoke into the microphone that’s provided on stage. Claps can be heard from the guests as the light turn down low. Polices stand not far from the stage, guarding the necklace against any danger possibility.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for coming to the grand opening of Seoul Jewelry Museum. As for our tonight main event, we will see the famous Fallen Star.”  

The red cloth fell onto the stage, revealing the clear glass case out in the open for all to see. But instead of cheers and clasps like earlier, numerous gasps and shocked murmurs escaped the large crowd. All the lights turn down, making the room completely dark. A familiar laugh can be heard around the room.

“Najaem!” The unspoken name in your mind was shouted by a man beside you whose voice belongs to none other than Mark.

“Ah, Mark Lee, it is good to see your lovely glare again,” You heard the phantom thief’s silk-smooth voice spoke. “And looks like you bring your beautiful companion too.” 

“I’d love to stay for the rest of the celebration, but, I need to steal what I came here for tonight and take my leave.” Puffs of smoke flooded the room, making you cough as your vision blurred. 

A hand snaked around your waist pulled you out from the sea of guests. When the smoke finally cleared and you’d regained your vision, you’re no longer in the ballroom. You were on the rooftop of the building, along with Najaem whose hand still around your waist.

“Najaem!? What…” You were speechless, completely didn’t understand the situation you in. He just smiled as he noticed the confused on your face. 

Without wasting any more time, he cupped your face with his other hand and pressed his lips against yours. You swear your heart stops for a solid second before pounding wildly against your chest. You become paralyzed, lost in the feeling of the phantom thief’s soft lips and confusion. It was wrong, you know it was wrong to kiss the phantom thief in front of you, but at the same time, it felt right. 

However, the moment had to ended by the loud bang of the door. This made the phantom thief let out a low ‘tch’, just like what he thought. 

Mark pulled you away from Najaem, hiding you behind him protectively and ready to attack him. The phantom thief only smirked before activated his hang-glider.

“So long, [Name], until we meet again.” Were his last words before he jumped from the roof, leaving you and Mark alone on the rooftop.

“Are you okay?” Worried, Mark asked you.

You touched your lips where the warm sensation of the phantom thief’s lips still lingering, blushed at the thought that Jae just stole your first kiss. But in the middle of your action, you felt something under your other empty palm. 

You curled your fingers around it and held it up for you to examine. It… was a rose. You pulled it closer to you and that’s when you noticed that there was a piece of paper of some sort taped to the stem of it.  

When we meet again, I will not only steal your kiss. But a whole you. ‘Till we meet again, my Fallen Star.

After the incident with the phantom thief that claimed you as his in the previous heist, Mark seems can’t leave you alone and became more protective than usual. To make it worse, the inspector for Seoul district was actually elated, saying that they could use you as a weapon against the young thief which means your assistance will be needed for the phantom thief’s next heist. Even though you don’t want to be the bait, you still didn’t have any choices—Mark promised to always stay by your side, to make sure nothing happens to you.

That morning, instead of greeting your deskmate with your usual smile, you slumped on your desk with a tired groan. Snicker was his only response as he looked at your state. “Looks like you have a bad day. Care to share some story?”

“It’s actually worse than you thought, Nana.” You turned your head to looked at Jaemin, your deskmate, with a pout as you remembering how your life has just turned into a hell in one night.

Sometimes you can’t help but wonder, how can your sweet deskmate kinda reminded you of the Phantom Thief Jae. Despite the similar name—the one you gave him before you changed it to “Nana” per his request, Jaemin who sit beside you is far different from that flirt phantom thief. He is a total introvert (though he looks more like extrovert than you) with zero filters, never without coffee in his hand every morning, constant hugs, cute smiles, and has a soft spot for Park Jisung, the freshman in the first year.

The only same trait that you can see from your friend with the phantom thief is only how he can be a flirt sometimes. But still, there is no way your sweet deskmate is the phantom thief just because of how flirty he can be, especially with you.

“Is it really that bad until Mark hyung can’t stop watching you from far?” Jaemin raised his eyebrows as he tilted his head toward the door. 

Without turning your head to where Jaemin pointed, you already knew what he means. You can only let a tired sigh. 

Mark was watching you from outside the class.

“He has been doing that since the night that phantom thief kis-” You halted the sentence, earning a curious stare from Jaemin. The thought of the phantom thief kissed you made your face turned red. 

“He what?” Jaemin who noticed the sudden shyness gave you a teasing look. 

“Um… nothing. Just forget it.”

Oh God, you almost spill the embarrassing detail. You still could heard Mark’s nagging you about being so defense less in front of a boy. Not just any boy, but the phantom thief who known as flirtatious and womanizer. Therefore, there is no need for anyone else to know about the kiss incident.

“Uh-hu. What did that phantom thief do, huh?”

Great, now he will not stop pestering you about it.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you whined with red cheeks.

When you and Jaemin out from the class for the lunch break, Mark decided to join you two, saying that he needs to keep you safe though there was no way the phantom thief will be in your school. He kept talking about it with Jaemin all the way to the canteen, which you didn’t mind.

But, that’s where you were wrong.

You never expected to saw a familiar piece of paper that taped to the stem of the familiar rose inside your locker, just right when you about to put your books. A doodle of a phantom thief can be seen at the corner of the paper, clearly telling the world that the flower indeed from the phantom thief.

On the night the door between death and life opened, like Julius Caesar kneeling down in front of Queen Cleopatra, I will come to  you to completely finish what I started.

A little warning for you, don’t be deceived by what you see before you. The shell always different from what stored inside it.

The thought of him might be around you made your heart fluttered. Seems like he never fails to surprise you. You looked around to find any sign of the phantom thief where being, however, there was no sign of him. Seems like the simple little gift from him made your day, well, much better. Though you want to hate him for the kiss, you can’t stop smiling by the small notice. You shouldn’t be affected by whatever the phantom thief tried to do, yet your heart already damaged already beyond repair by him. 

Hate to admit it, but you might have fall a little for him.

“[Name], what’s wrong?” You abruptly close your locker before Mark could see it, surprising two boys behind you. “Did I just see a rose inside your locker?”

“It’s nothing!” You answered rather quickly, pushing Mark away from your locker. 

The detective looked at you suspiciously before decided to shrug it off, thinking that it may be from an admire and you’re just too embarrassed to show it. 

While busy pushing Mark away, you failed to notice the smirk on Jaemin’s face as he followed the two of you from behind.

“Hurry up before we don’t get lunch, Nana!”

“I’m right just behind you two, you know.”

If only you know the truth.

[leerongrong]

of princesses and amortentia.

Pairing: Lee Jeno x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: In which you’re Slytherin’s princess and you get paired up with Gryffindor’s golden boy, Lee Jeno, for potions class. [Hogwarts AU]

Requested: yes!! Can I ask for a promt pleasee. 2. 2. 2/5/19/38 The boy is up for your choice, thank you ♥️♥️ 

Note: @neoculturalshit​ i stressed over this for 2 days ahgshash. i present to you, for her highness’ late birthday gift ♡ also yes, this time both nana and hyuck make an appearance,, dont drag me for it😤

Cracking fire with mixed in enchantment spells are the main sounds coming from the common room while hallways are silent, littered with nothing but the sounds of Madam Filtch’s meowing cat. The courtyard is filled to the brim with spectators from all houses, suspense in the air as two houses battle against each other for victory.

Slytherin is up against Gryffindor today. The final match of the season being the spectacle for other students to watch, rooting for their houses and making bets on who would win while you’re prancing in the Slytherin chamber, hands wrapped so tightly around your wand it would break. Your brother, Jaemin, is slumped on the couch, eyes following you with a smirk painted on his lips. He’s in nothing but his common clothes, having ditched all his classes for the day in favor of “very important work,” which so happens to be sleeping on the couch while listening to the venomous words dripping down your lips.

”Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck this shit. Fuck.”

“Ooh, careful princess.” Jaemin’s words are playfully sweet in contrast to the deep voice he has, the thing that has all of Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Gryffindors alike down on their knees for him, his infamous charms even rivaling that of his parseltongue. “You’re going to put me and our great, great, great grandpa Salazar Slytherin to shame.”

“Besides,“ Jaemin fake pouts, “Shouldn’t princesses be sweet, charming and dignified? I expect the same from Slytherin’s own princess.”

Spells come flying out from your wands onto each other, harmless enough to not put you into too much trouble yet scorching when one hits the skin. The screams from outside are hard to ignore and one rattles your concentration, a rogue spell barreling towards Jaemin, one which he happens to avoid just in time for it to only burn of a bit of his hair. Fireworks go off in the air as you turn your head to see Gryffindor’s star quidditch player, Lee Jeno, with a Golden Snitch in his hand.

“You should’ve played.“ You scoff at Jaemin when you see the boy with a mischievous smile on his face, hands flying to the back of his head, a satisfying smack coming from it when your palm lands on its target. “We would’ve won if Slytherin’s ‘star player’ had played.”

Your eyes are back on the field, teeth clenching when you catch sight of Jeno, the boy smiling and being tossed into the air by his team while they celebrate a win. Lee Jeno is Gryffindor’s golden boy, a direct descendant from one of the most brilliant wizards of the time, Godric Gryffindor. You’ve never met the boy in person but from the start of the school year, people have put you and his friend circles against each other, causing a natural brewing competitiveness and although you’d never say it out loud, you wondered what it would be like to be friends with them.

Lee Jeno’s circle of friends are those of an odd pack; with Mark lee, the naturally clumsy but brave senior. Huang Renjun, the hot headed and fire spitting dragon trainer and Park Jisung, the shy but incredibly talented quidditch junior who’s expected to take over for Jeno. Then comes Lee Jeno himself, excelling at charms, potions, ancient runes, and especially, quidditch. Talents clear as day as he does have Gryffindor’s blood running in his veins.

Then there’s you and Jaemin. Slytherin’s prince and princess, named after your ancestor and for the blood that is running in your veins. All your life, you’ve been branded as special and different, your parents strictly raising you both to be valued heirs of your family, something you nor Jaemin wanted. Even from the start of your year, the two of you had been famous, other Slytherins coming to tag for a spot in your circle, until Lee Donghyuck came in. Cunning, Quick witted, Resourceful and very talented in Dark Arts, the epitome of what a Slytherin truly is.

“You good for nothing, always looking for trouble- Na Jaemin!”

The roaring crowds from outside fades into the background when the room’s gigantic double gates burst open to reveal a steaming Donghyuck with his hands still wrapped around his broomstick, a sign he came running over after the game finished.

“What’s up, pal?” Jaemin’s hands are raised in mock defeat the moment Donghyuck grabs him by his collar, a scream pulled out of his throat when Donghyuck raises his broomstick and whacks Jaemin’s head with it. It’s always a pleasure to watch the two quarrel, something that always brings a smile to your face ever since the two first met. The bond the three of you have is unique, something you didn’t think you’d find in Hogwarts.

“You have the emotional capacity of a brick!” Donghyuck is sheeting, his normally tidy uniform is a wreck and his hair looks windswept from his previous game. “I told you to be there for the game! And what do you do? Laze around in the common room instead?”

“Hyuckie, I need you to calm down.” You’re smiling as you see him take deep breaths, joining in with him to shake off your own ongoing nerves. “That’s much better.”

The moment the words leave your lips, Donghyuck is smiling back at you, pulling in to give you a hug. Somewhere behind you a gagging is heard and you’re rolling your eyes, hands grabbing at the broomstick still in Donghyuck’s hand and swinging it at Jaemin’s head, glaring when he ducks from the blow.

“Is there a reason my favorite set of siblings didn’t come to watch me play?”

Donghyuck is swinging his feet over the couch, planting himself in the corner whilst Jaemin sits down at the other side of the couch, creating a space in the middle just enough for you to fit in between the two. “Did you have another date with that Hufflepuff girl, Jaems?”

“She was cute, “ Jaemin shrugs, “But I think I would rather eat expired spam.”

“Ha!” You’re halfway to sitting down when Donghyuck raises a finger to point at Jaemin, successfully hitting your cheek in the process of it. The glare you send does nothing to him, the boy throwing an arm around your shoulder while still focused on humiliating your brother, “Suck on that! You aren’t as attractive as you thought, huh?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Jaemin’s waving his hand in the air for a moment, before he’s pointing his finger at you, redirecting all of Donghyuck’s attention onto you. “Besides, you should be more interested in our own princess’ date.”

“A date, as in where two people get together to get to know each other, to see if they’re compatible?” Donghyuck frowns, “Since when have you been interested in boys?”

“Jaemin,” You groan, “Partnering up with Jeno for potions isn’t a date.”

“Jeno? As in Lee Jeno!?” Donghyuck’s scream catches the attention of multiple people coming into the room after watching the match, some looking at you peculiarly while others don’t even spare a glance. It hasn’t even reached midday and you’re already tired from all the drama your two friends are causing, wishing the day would come to an end soon.

“The professor just wanted us to pair up because we’re the only ones who could rival each other.” You glare at Jaemin. “Not because he wants us to go on a date.”

Hushed whispers cut off the flow of conversation, some students cocking their heads to the door while you could feel the other bunch have their eyes on you. Both Jaemin and Donghyuck are craning their necks over multiple heads and Donghyuck’s the first one to come back to his original position, a sickeningly sweet smile on his face which is duplicated by Jaemin. “Well princess, I think it’s time to leave. Your prince charming has arrived.”

A Gryffindor peeking his head into the Slytherin common room isn’t a usual sight to see and you, yourself wouldn’t believe it if you weren’t seeing it with your own eyes, especially if said Gryffindor in question is golden boy, Lee Jeno himself. You’re watching with peek curiosity as Jeno peeks inside the room, his eyes darting everywhere as if he’s searching for someone. You have to admit that it would take bravery only a Gryffindor possesses, after all it would scare the living daylights out of anyone else but him.

His eyes narrow in on you and you’re checking if he’s staring at anyone else until a smile pops on his face and he’s screaming your name for everyone to hear. Gasps and murmurs break out but are silenced, not even seconds later, when Donghyuck lets out a laugh, his voice echoing through the otherwise silent room. Your brother nods his head to Jeno’s direction, a smirk resting on his face as you get up to meet Jeno. The fast steps you take are enough to reach him in a few seconds and the ongoing watchers disappear with a look from you, leaving you and Jeno with some privacy, except from your brother and friend.

“Lee Jeno, what a surprise.” You force out a smile, “A pleasure to see you, of course. But may I ask, what in Slytherin’s name are you doing here?”

Your nose scrunches when Jeno lifts his hand to scratch at the back of his neck. Lee Jeno smells of sweat, grass and a little bit of catnip, something you find odd since for all the years you’ve been in Hogwarts, you’ve never seen catnip grow anywhere near. Lee Jeno is everything you’ve heard of him to be; muscular, tall and looks as if he belongs on the field.

‘I never knew he would be this cute up close.’

A head shake dissipates all your thoughts, choosing to focus solely on the boy in front of you, who seems to be in a world of his own. Patience is not something you have, annoyance starting to bite at the back of your neck like a three headed snake. “Well?”

“Oh, right. I’m sorry.” Jeno’s ears are painted with a shade of red, cheeks in a similar condition. “I thought we could revise a bit before potions. Since the professor has high expectations on us and all.”

You’re pondering for a moment, listing off all the things you needed to do by tonight, ears pricking up when the sound of Jaemin’s laughter fills the room behind you. You decide that as much as you would enjoy working on ancient runes with Jaemin, you’d enjoy working on poyions a little bit more.

“Sure,” You nodded, “Lead the way.”

­-

“So are you sure we can use this place?” Jeno’s pace is a bit too quick for you to handle, forcing you to take bigger and quicker steps so that you’re walking side by side with each other. In the short amount of time you walked with Jeno, you realized he’s not one to speak. He prefers to keep quiet and let you do all the talking, he spews out a few questions here and there to keep the conversation going, and you suppose it’s a good difference than when you’re with Donghyuck and Jaemin.

“Yes, I asked professor Slughorn beforehand if you’re worried.”

The air is silent for a while, both you and Jeno hard at work on collecting the few necessities for your potion, with Jeno grabbing the books by the professor’s desk and you collecting the herbs to brew. The potions room is nothing special, decked out with chairs and tables in the middle for students to experiment on, a brewing pot stacked on each and every one of those desks. “So what’re we making?”

“Amortentia.” Jeno looks almost different in the dim light, almost as if he’s a different person than the one you’ve seen all these years. The way his arm moves as he’s stirring the potion, the way he’s squinting his eyes as if the potion would disappear if he looked away. You almost hear yourself say he looks magical with the mist that’s starting to float around, a telltale sign that the potion you’re working on is almost complete, “With a little bit of a twist.”

“A twist?” You’re positive the mist swirling around the room has gotten into your head, twisting your mind into thinking nonsense, and almost scoffing when the thought of smelling what Jeno smells like in the Amortentia appears. “A twist how?”

“Well,” The mist around you is changing in colors; one moment you’re seeing a hint of green, something that reminds you of Donghyuck. Another moment you’re seeing pink, something that you’ve associated with your brother your entire life. You even started seeing a hint of blue, something that vaguely reminds you of you, although you didn’t expect to see the patches of red and gold. You didn’t expect to see the two specific colors that reminds you all too much of Gryffindor, all too much of Jeno. “We know that Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in the world and that it smells different to each person, according to what attracts them.”

“So I thought,” Jeno mumbles, “Why not create something that foretells who you’ll be attracted to?”

The potion itself turns from a darkened ink blue into one of a mother-of-pearl sheen, the color briefly catching your eye before it puffs out more mist, some enhancing into spirals while others turn into odd shapes. Your eyes are drawn to a perfectly shaped lion pup playing with its siblings, then darting around to lock onto what seems like a kitten playing with a golden snitch in its paws. Swirling spirals of mist encase both you and Jeno, said boy looking to the edge of the room where he sees a little girl, one that looks exactly like you, playing with a golden snake.

“I’d hate to pry.” Your eyes catch onto the sight of a little boy on a broomstick, flying around above meadows of flowers and your heart beats a little faster when you realize the child looks a little too similar to Jeno for your liking. “But what does it smell like to you?”

“It smells like crackling fire, vanilla, and ancient runes.” Jeno’s looking around in bewilderment, trying to find the little girl in the room only to find you standing, looking dazed but straight at him. His heart is beating hard and fast, mind racing with a billion thoughts while he tries to figure out the last time he’s caught a sniff of vanilla or ancient runes, finding it seldom that he encounters those objects. His mind clicks into place when he realizes the only time he’s smelt a whiff of vanilla, being earlier when he went into the Slytherin common room to see you. “What about you?”

“It smells like freshly mowed grass, new parchment,” Your eyes flick onto Jeno, finding it hard to see him in the midst of Red and Gold clouding your vision, while Jeno’s sight is filled with nothing but Green and Silver, “..and catnip.”

“My head understands things that my heart is not yet willing to accept.”

[thegoodgayshit]

Luz’s mother really doesn’t want to send Luz to camp. She knows once she leaves, there is no going back. But Luz has a knack for getting into trouble, and one day she stumbles into the same type of people her mother would have preferred she avoided. After helping Luz dissolve her high school bully into dust, Eda and Lilith know right away that this kid is just like them - a child of the gods. So Luz hops on a Pegasus and heads to Camp Half-blood, where she embarks on a dangerous quest that makes her both friends and enemies... and she might even save Olympus along the way.

Chapter Thirty-One: The Underworld and It’s Airport Security

She woke up in the lobby of a doctor’s office.

At least, that’s what it looked like. It was eerily quiet, with those plastic chairs with the huge armrests and people milling about. Some were sitting in chairs, a few standing near the bulletin board on the back wall. She saw a woman in a red coat, a man in a tie checking his watch, and a little boy holding a five dollar bill tightly in his hand. They just looked like perfectly normal mortals. Nothing out of the usual, but something about them put Luz on edge. She couldn’t place why.

There was no line for the receptionist, which Luz found odd.

She took a deep breath, and inhaled stale air, trying to remember what had just happened.

The portal. Saving Amity. Dad…

She still had Aletheia, which was resting on her finger. Luz checked her pockets. In her right was Hestia’s flame/lighter, and she ran her thumb over protectively. It was hers to carry from now on. In her other pocket, the one Hermes had been fiddling with, was a huge gold coin, with a circumference almost the size of her thumb, embezzled with the symbol of the Caduceus. She had no idea what she was going to do with that. Maybe it was an advance on a birthday gift?

In her back pocket, she pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, and when she opened it, her eyes widened. It was a circle with a line in the middle, and three flames above each section. Alador had given this to her. He’d said that Hestia was the balance between worlds.

Maybe if she ever saw him again, she’d have to tell him he’d been right. But based on her last interaction with Amity’s parents went, she doubted she’d be welcome back to the Blight manor.

“Next!”

Luz jumped. Somebody behind the receptionist counter was waving for her impatiently, and before she even realized what she was doing, she was stepping forward.

The man behind the counter was… even more off-putting than the people in the lobby. He was wearing a very expensive-looking Italian suit, and he had dark hair that was slicked back. When she walked up, he was tapping his foot, like Luz should have known to walk up quicker.

“Name?”

Luz paused. Should she reveal that? She had no idea where she was. But the tapping of his foot increased the longer she hesitated, so she just threw caution to the wind.

“Luz Noceda.”

He looked down at a paper in his hand, frowning. “I don’t see you on our list. What was your cause of death?”

“Cause of death?”

He looked up and his lips thinned. She got the feeling people asked that one a lot.

“Cause of death. I hate to break it to you, but if you’re here, it’s because you're dead. If you can’t remember how you died, and I know some mortals like to block that out, could you at least tell me where you were at your time of death?”

So that’s where she was. Some kind of in-between world between living and dying. Now that she looked back at the other patrons in the lobby, Luz was kicking herself for not picking up on it sooner. All the patients in the room were sickly pale and seemed to have a shimmer to them that she now recognized as the reason Luz had been so thrown off. They were all dead, and waiting for their turn to move on.

But was she dead too?

Luz had been fairly certain Hermes hadn’t killed her, but if she was being honest with herself, she couldn’t really remember how she’d gotten here.

She didn’t feel dead, but she took stock just to be safe. Her heart was still beating. She was still gross and exhausted from the battle on Mount Pelion. She was sweating. All good signs of being alive.

“I’m not dead. I mean, I don’t think I am.”

The man rolled his eyes, eyeing her up and down. “Look I deal with a lot of mortals like you-“ He suddenly stopped, his eyes widening the longer he looked at her. Luz figured he finally picked up on the fact that she wasn’t, in fact, dead. The surprise left his face, and it shifted back to one of disinterest.

“I can’t help you.”

“What do you mean, you can't help me?” Luz asked, peering over at the name tag on the counter. “Charon?”

His eyebrows lifted, and despite his blank face, Luz had a feeling he was pleased. “You got my name right. Most people think I have the same name as that gods forsaken horse… look, kid. You’re at the entrance to the Underworld. I don’t know exactly how or why you’re here, seeing as you’re dead, but I can’t let any of the living past this point. Policy rules and all.”

Luz frowned. What was she going to do now? Hermes hadn’t given her any kind of instruction on what to do when she got here, or where she’d even go. But she couldn’t just leave.

She wracked her brain, trying to think of everything she knew about the Greek Underworld. There was the king, the god Hades, and his wife Persephone… Charon was a familiar name, but she just couldn’t place where she’d heard it…

Then, she turned and saw that the little boy had gotten in line, the five dollar bill still clenched tightly in his hand. It clicked.

“You’re the ferryman to the Underworld.”

He nodded. “Yes indeed. And I’m on strict orders to only take the dead across the River Styx. So, I'm sorry, but you'll have to come back when you’re dead.”

“I can pay you.”

Charon hesitated, his eyes narrowing. “With what?”

“I’m not here for myself,” Luz said, finally understanding what Hermes had done. “I’m a daughter of Hermes, here on behalf of the Olympians on official business. I need to be on your next boat.”

She took out the coin, placing it confidently on the table. Charon’s eyes widened.

For a second, Luz thought he might refuse her, and she froze. She'd never even considered that Charon might not like her father or any of the other Olympians. But then, looking quickly around the room, he swiped the coin, standing up with a tight smile.

“Of course, daughter of Hermes. We’ll leave right away.”

Luz paused, turning to look at the little boy who was still waiting patiently for his turn. “Make sure you check him in too.”

Charon grimaced, but shrugged, waving him forward. The boy walked up and stood next to Luz, dropping the five in Charon’s hands. It was bright blue and plastic-looking. Canadian money.

“Name?”

“I'm Cooper!”

He huffed. “Well, we only have one of those on the list today. All right, come on then, follow closely behind this Hermes kid.” Then, under his breath, so low that Luz almost missed it, “Hades knows I don’t want that god on my bad side again.”

Charon led Luz and Cooper out of the lobby and into an elevator. Horrible 80’s music was playing when the doors finally opened, and Luz got smacked with an entirely new sight.

The Underworld.

Luz had seen it in her dreams a few times through the portal, and it was just as bleak and as terrifying as she remembered it being. The air was stale, and probably didn’t smell that great, but Luz had gotten used to Death Mist, so this was nothing. They were on a dock, coated in rotting wood and Charon led them onto a gondola with a few other souls, batting extras away as he started to push it off into a dark black river. The Styx.

When Amity had sworn she’d free Hestia, she swore on this river. Luz wondered if she’d still have fallen off the mountain if she’d been the one to cut the chains instead of her.

She looked back toward Charon and recoiled, almost falling into the water from her shock. Instead of a suit, he now wore a thick black robe. His face was sunken and skeletal like he'd been dead for several days.

Charon started to push the boat down the black river. The boat rocked, and Luz quickly sat down, her heart hammering in her chest. She was really here, and it was terrifying. She wished she wasn't alone. Willow might have put an arm around her shoulder reassuringly, and Gus would be spewing facts too fast for her to process any of this fear. Amity might have held her hand as the boat moved, and squeezed it to remind her that everything was going to be okay. Now that she'd gotten used to having her friends around, she really forgot how lonely it was to be alone.

Cooper took a seat next to her, seemingly oblivious to the terror around them, instead just watching the sights with awe.

“It's so amazing!” He whispered to her. Luz frowned. Maybe he’d hit his head before he died. Luz could think of a scroll of places better than this, including the dumpster shoot behind her Mami's apartment. But he couldn’t have been older than seven or eight, so Luz wasn’t going to be the one to break it to him.

“Yeah, it sure is,” she said, forcing a smile and hoping it wasn't a grimace.

“My mommy would love to live in a place like this,” he whispered to her, “it smells like Nana’s house by the beach. And the man pushing the boat looks just like my daddy. They have the same color hair and everything!”

Luz frowned, looking to Charon and back to Cooper. They looked nothing alike. While Charon looked like he haunted funeral homes, Cooper was blond and bright-eyed. And she hadn’t been to many beaches before, but she was certain they didn’t smell like this.

“Where’s your mommy, Cooper?”

“I dunno! She told me I was allowed to walk to the convince store and buy candy and pop.” Cooper said with a shrug, too busy leaning over the gondola towards the river to pay much attention to her.

He reached forward to stick his hand in the water, and Luz leaned forward to stop him, her gut screaming at her that it would not be good. Behind her, Charon shook his head.

“Don’t touch! You’ll burn your whole hand off.”

But as he said that, Luz touched his hand. Instead of feeling solid flesh, her hand passed right through the murky layer around him, and her whole world shifted. For just a moment, she saw things the same way he did.

Now, Charon was a tall, handsome, blond man in colorful bathing suit shorts and a white tank top. He was gently scolding Cooper, “Don’t touch! You might fall in!” Cooper pulled back, laughing in delight.

The Underworld was beautiful. Clear blue skies, the air clean and fresh. They were riding in a pontoon boat over a clear blue lake, and there were ducks chattering in the water near them. In the distance, she could see the shore. People waited, laughing and talking, standing near a freshly painted dock and a cozy-looking cottage.

She quickly pulled back her hand out of his mist, her shoulder blade hitting the side of the gondola. Then, she was back.

“Holy Hermes…” she muttered, blinking to stay focused. She was thrown off from not being able to grab his arm, but then she felt stupid. Of course she wouldn't be able to touch him. He was dead. Then she'd seen his vision... what in Zeus' name was that all about?

“Some mortals just can't handle seeing the world as it actually is,” Charon whispered to her and chills shot up her spine at the sound of his voice right near her ear. “For poor folks like this one… ones who’ve barely lived, they don’t deserve to be scarred like that. Not that it matters, anyway. He doesn’t need a judge to tell him where he’s going to end up.”

The gondola finally knocked against the shore, and Charon pointed to something in the distance. There, she got her first glance at the real entrance to the Underworld. Lines upon lines of spirits, separated into two lines to pass through what looked almost like airport security.

One line was moving so quickly, Luz could barely keep up. It was like there was no security at all for this line besides the metal detectors. It was marked as the “EZ” line. But the other was in a totally dead stop, marked as a line towards the Judgement Pavillion. Luz shivered when she heard barking, and saw a massive, three-headed Rottweiler eyeing each of the spirits walking through the metal detectors like he was just waiting to swallow one of them up.

Beyond that, Luz saw the Fields of Asphodel. It went on for what seemed like miles, and in the distance, she spotted a giant obsidian castle. The palace of Hades. To the left of the Fields, Luz flinched and looked away. It was the Fields of Punishment. She was fairly far away, but she could still hear the shouts of agony in the distance. Maybe it was best she didn’t dwell on it.

But just to the right of the Fields of Asphodel, Luz’s eyes widened. It was an actual gated community in the Underworld, with beautiful, thick, trees, and the sounds of people laughing and enjoying a barbeque. It was such a shock from what was on the other side of the pathway, that Luz almost didn’t want to tear her gaze away.

Elysium. Cooper would be in good hands.

Luz, however, would have to take the more daunting trek. First, she had to find Amity. And in a realm with billions of souls, she had no idea how she was going to do that.

Thanking Charon with a low whisper, Luz climbed out of the boat as it docked. She had no time to waste. Amity hadn’t been down here much longer than Luz had, and if she didn’t want to completely lose her trail, she needed to find her and quick.

As she waded through spirits, she was desperately looking anywhere for a splash of mint hair. She checked the entire EZ line, careful not to get too close to Cerberus before she finally accepted that Amity wasn’t anywhere in the wafts of moving souls. Then, it hit her.

Of course Amity wasn’t there.

She had always been an overachiever and prided herself on being the best of the best. It was stupid of Luz to ever think she’d willingly take the boring Fields of Asphodel for eternity when there was another option.

So, she started checking the line to the Judgement Pavilion. As she walked through, she heard some disgruntled murmurs from the souls and was quick to hold up her hands.

“I’m not cutting! I’m just looking for someone.”

That seemed to be pretty unusual because souls didn’t bother her much after that.

Luz was thanking every god she could think of that the souls in this section looked much more lively than the ones she’d seen in line for the Fields of Asphodel. These souls remembered who they were, and we're proud to get in line and be judged. She hoped that when she found Amity, she would be feeling the same way.

Gods, if only she could find Amity. She checked every soul, walking up and down the line for what felt like hours.

Then, she saw her. Her back was to Luz, a few souls ahead of her, and she looked exactly as she did right before she fell down the mountain. Her mint green hair was tied up in its usual style, her clothes were ragged and battle-worn, and her arms were crossed impatiently as she waited. Despite the familiarity, she, like the other souls Luz had seen, were coated in a thin mist and had that same off look about them, but it was still so obviously Amity and Luz’s heart just about shot out of her chest.

“Amity! Amity!!!"

She sprinted as fast as she could, and Amity turned her head, her eyes widening at the sound of her voice.

“Luz?”

Luz slammed into her, fully planning to wrap her arms around her, but instead only managed to lose her footing, and fall right through Amity. There was no vision this time as she slammed into the coarse sand of the Underworld, groaning. Right, Amity was dead. She wouldn't be able to touch her.

As she crawled to her feet, she felt disappointment wash through her. It wasn't fair. All she wanted to do was hug Amity. She was standing stiff behind Luz like she couldn't believe her eyes.

"Luz, is that really you?"

The disappointment faded to something else entirely when she heard her voice. It was just as it had been before she'd come to the Underworld. Her knee was stinging, and there was probably another hole in her leggings, but she couldn’t recall another time she’d been so relieved in her life. She stepped towards her, reaching out only to slowly remove her hand before it touched her face. It wouldn't work anyway.

“It's me. It's really me." She said, though she could barely believe her own eyes. "I... I thought I’d never see you again," she whispered, her heart hammering tightly in her chest.

“Luz, what are you doing here?” Amity breathed out, clearly just as shocked.

“Oh you know, just some of the usual quest stuff,” Luz said with a chuckle, and Amity recoiled in surprise. She eyes Luz up and down like she was looking for any signs Luz had changed.

“Another quest? I… I didn’t think I’d been down here that long…”

“What?” Luz asked, blinking. “No! It's the same quest I’ve been on this whole time. Amity, I’m here to take you back.”

Amity’s mouth dropped open, before closing and reopening multiple times. “Luz… I… I’m dead. I can’t just… I can’t just go.”

“But you can!” Luz insisted, reaching forward to take her hand. Her fingers passed right through, and she looked down, frustrated. Amity flinched, pulling her hand to her chest. “You’re not at the judging pavilion yet. You haven’t been entered into the Underworld officially. Amity, I’m here to fix this.”

“You can’t fix a prophecy, Luz,” Amity said with a stern shake of her head, even though her eyes were dark with sadness. “Look, all this is over. I… I died, yeah, but that’s how it was meant to be. I knew that, and I know you do too.”

“We were wrong. Amity, we’ve been wrong this whole time! Look, I met my Dad just after you…” Luz swallowed hard, and Amity looked away, biting her lip. Luz took a quick breath and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. He told me that this wasn’t over. What closes on one side has to close on the other too. I’m here to make sure the portal stays closed for good, and I need you to help me. Please, Amity. Just trust me.”

Amity looked back at Luz, and something in her face shifted. She sighed, giving Luz a tiny smile.

“I can’t even die in peace, can I? Are you always going to be like this?”

Luz's heartbeat once in her chest, hard.

“Am I always going to be like what? Charming and intriguing?” Luz asked with a grin.

“No," Amity scoffed with a shake of her head. "I meant annoying and persistent.”

“Well, that depends. Are you going to step out of this line?”

Amity paused for another moment, looking down towards the judging pavilion with a thoughtful look on her face. After another moment, she stepped forward, gesturing for the soul behind her to move up.

“Alright, you've convinced me. I'm in. What’s the plan?”          

[lilyvandersteen]

The Christmas Guest Chapter 3

Author’s Note:

This chapter is from Kurt's point of view again. Spending more time with Blaine makes Kurt fall in love with him. Only, Blaine isn't really Kurt's boyfriend, so he should probably curb that tendency. That proves easier said than done. Oops?

Read Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 here on Tumblr, or read the story on AO3 or FF.net.

Chapter 3: Fitting Right In

Kurt woke up slowly, awareness sinking in one sense at a time.

He heard someone bustling around the kitchen while the radio played the newest Jonas Brothers song.

He smelled coffee and bacon, and something sweet baking in the oven.

Tentatively, he opened his eyes a sliver, and then closed them again immediately. Way too much light. Why hadn’t he closed the curtains before he went to bed?

He turned on his side, intending to sleep some more, but groaned when the movement made him ache all over, muscles screaming in protest. Why did his bed feel so lumpy and his duvet so thin and scratchy?

With a sigh, he sat up and took stock of his surroundings, squinting in the morning light.

Oh. I fell asleep on the sofa. That’s why everything hurts.

He got up, intending to walk to the kitchen, but got a dizzy spell and stumbled. He would have fallen, if not for the arm that wound itself around his middle and held him up.

“Careful, there,” a cheerful voice said, and Kurt looked up into a handsome face.

Who…? Oh. Right. Blaine.

“Let’s get you some food and some tea with honey,” Blaine suggested, leading him towards the kitchen.

Kurt’s bladder gave a twinge in protest. “Uhm, I… Bathroom first, please?”

Blaine gently guided him towards the bathroom, and when Kurt was finished, he found Blaine waiting there to bring him to the kitchen.

“I’m fine now. Really.”

But Kurt’s protests might as well have been spoken to the wall for all the effect they had. In no time at all, he was sitting on a kitchen chair Blaine had pulled out for him, blinking bemusedly at the rack of toast and plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of him.

“And a mug of tea with honey, hang on,” Blaine muttered, seeming perfectly at home in the kitchen already.

Carole squeezed Kurt’s arm lightly. “How are you feeling, honey? You were coughing really badly last night.”

Kurt assessed his physical state. “My throat still hurts, but I think the runny nose phase is over.”

“Well, eat up, and drink some tea, you’ll feel better.”

Kurt obediently started to eat, wincing at how the toast grated his throat going down. The tea helped, though.

“So what are you boys planning on doing today?” Carole asked.

Blaine shrugged. “I’m up for anything. Kurt said something about baking cookies. That sounds great. I haven’t done that since I was five.”

Kurt looked up. “Really?”

“Yep. That was with my Nana.” Blaine smiled, thinking of his grandmother. “We made chocolate chip cookies. They tasted amazing.”

“So why haven’t you baked since?” Kurt asked.

“She died soon after. And my mom isn’t much of a baker.”

Kurt felt a pang of sadness. He, too, had given up baking for quite a few years after his mother died. It wasn’t until he started taking Home Ec classes at school that he regained his zest for it.

He put his hand over Blaine’s. “I’m sorry for your loss. But just you wait, I have the BEST recipe for chocolate chip cookies!”

Blaine smiled at him in a way that made Kurt’s insides melt and his heart flip-flop in his chest.

Kurt looked away and berated himself. It wouldn’t do to develop a crush now. Blaine was handsome, yes. And charming. And caring. All sorts of wonderful things. But he was also a stranger, and though Burt thought they were dating, Kurt had to remember they were not. Blaine was nice to him, yes, but not interested in Kurt that way.

Two hours later, Kurt scooped out his second batch of cookie dough and then handed the bowl to Blaine so he could lick it out.

Once the new batch was in the oven, he checked if the shortbread had cooled enough to be put into a tin already.

“This is good,” Blaine said, his eyes closed in bliss as he savoured his first taste of Kurt’s double chocolate chip recipe.

“Even better baked,” Kurt promised him. “I put in some extra chocolate chips just for you.”

Blaine gave him a chocolatey grin and put his fingers in his mouth again to lick off more dough, humming in delight.

The sight made Kurt hastily turn around and grab a dishcloth to clean his workspace, wishing his mind wouldn’t always go straight to the gutter.

They were doing the dishes when Carole came in.

“Kurt, if you’re done baking, could you and Blaine go fetch all the decoration boxes in the attic, please? Finn will be home in half an hour, and then we can decorate the tree together.”

So to the attic they went, and they hauled down five boxes of varying weight and size. Kurt was showing Blaine the decorations he had made in middle school and telling him stories about them when Finn arrived, his hair and coat dusted with snow.

“It’s snowing?”

“Sure is, bro,” Finn grinned, and lightning-quick, he gathered the snow on his sleeves and shoved it down Kurt’s shirt.

Kurt yelped at how cold and wet the snow felt trickling down his back, and cuffed the back of Finn’s head. “Ugh, you moron! I’ll pay you back for that!”

Laughing uproariously, Finn hugged Kurt and Carole, and as soon as Blaine was introduced, he got a hug as well.

It showed how far Finn had come when he accepted Blaine as Kurt’s boyfriend as a matter of course, without asking any questions or being weird about it.

After only ten minutes, Finn and Blaine were discussing football as if they’d been best friends since kindergarten, and Carole smiled at Kurt and whispered, “Blaine fits right in, doesn’t he? I’m happy you found him, sweetie. He suits you so well.”

Kurt managed to return the smile, but inside, his heart sank. Why had he ever thought it was a good idea to bring Blaine home with him? Now his entire family was falling under Blaine’s spell, and Kurt dreaded the moment the whole pretense would fall apart.

They decorated the tree all together, Kurt directing everyone as to where to put everything. Finn, as the tallest person by far, got the task of putting the star for the top of the tree, with Kurt threatening him with all sorts of medieval torture should he drop and break it. Thankfully, the fragile star made it safely to the top, and when Carole put the lights on, everyone ooh’ed and aah’ed.

“Great, that’s done!” Finn grinned. “Now we can do the fun stuff! Let’s go outside, the snow’s nice and fresh.”

Kurt quirked an eyebrow and was about to snark, “How old are you, six?”, but was silenced by Blaine’s enthusiastic yell, “Snowball fight!”

Kurt looked on in open-mouthed astonishment as Blaine and Finn hurried to put their coats and shoes on, predicting each other’s downfall in the snowball fight – “Seriously, man, I have such good aim you’ll be crying uncle in five minutes!” – and laughing and jostling one another.

They opened the door, letting a gust of cold wind in, and urged him to hurry up before they ran outside.

“Oh great, there’s TWO of them now,” Kurt moaned. He located his boots, stepped into them and started lacing them up.

Carole giggled at his martyred expression. “Go on, sweetie, it will do you good. I’ll make you all hot chocolate when you come back in.”

“With whipped cream and marshmallows?”

“And sprinkles on top.”

“And I want to watch Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. And Blaine and I get the sofa. And the blanket.”

Carole laughed. “Tell you what: if you win the snowball fight, you’ll get all that. Finn will just have to deal. Now go!”

[himbeaux-on-ice]

Who are your top five NHL teams and why?

Ooooo this is fun! Thanks anon!

Short list:

Habs ❤️🤍💙

Pens 🐧

Canucks 🌈🌊

Caps 🦅

Leafs 🟦🍁🟦 (no really! I know I don’t talk about them much but its true!)

Over-wordy explanations/backstory for my relationship to each of these teams below the cut for those interested!

Montreal Canadiens. My dearly beloved Nana, who half-raised me, is a lifelong diehard Habs fan who grew up listening to their games on the radio and then later as an adult watching them duel with the Leafs on Saturday nights on a black-and-white tv (also a BIG Carey Price stan). Needless to say she rubbed off on me immensely, and I remember saying to myself at some point “well, if that’s Nana’s team, that’s gonna be my team too” and it stuck for life. I also had a friend in middle school who was a RELIGIOUS Habs fan who also worshipped at the altar of Jesus Price in those early 2010’s, so I heard a LOT about all of that every lunch break as he argued with friends who were Pens and Bruins fans lol. We went on the Bell Centre tour during the annual 9th grade French class trip to Quebec, and while I was mostly focused on getting to the gift shop to buy Nana a souvenir, I swear my friend’s eyes were the size of quarters the whole time lmao. (Would LOVE to go back now that I care a lot). Basically the Habs are the closest thing to a local NHL team our region has bc we get their broadcasts (though people choose their own team allegiances for various random personal reasons), and I grew up absorbing through osmosis both the legends of yore and the latest updates on whatever Carey and PK and the lads were up to. (Also I’ve been quietly in love with Price myself since at least the 2014 Olympics lol. My first best fav ❤️) Bottom line the Habs are My Team, the “I’m gonna be here even when it sucks, even when players move on, this is attached to me in a way I can’t quite explain” team that every hockey fan has in their heart. GO HABS GO!

Pittsburgh Penguins. If you were an elementary school kid in Nova Scotia when Sidney Crosby was first released and up through the 2010’s, you had two options: love him, or hate him, but you better accept you’re gonna be hearing about him a LOT. I settled on “vague fondness” and followed Sid from a newspaper-scanning distance and vaguely rooted for him because when he brought the Cup home it felt like we all won. And like I said, lots of passionate Pens fans in my grade school classes to hear from (he’s also the only non-Habs player my Nana likes lol). Then I got into hockey properly last year and learned about Geno beyond just knowing his name, and my chronic affection for large loveable Russians got combined with my longstanding vague “I hope the Penguins win” feelings and my “time to get the full story on the Sidney Crosby’s Penguins narrative I only ever watched from a distance” research, in a manner not unlike the creation of the PowerPuff Girls ([chemical X] etc etc lol) to create a potent adoration for this team that rocketed them to second place in my heart. Also the fandom is just so damn fun and makes such great content, and that definitely feeds my level of engagement with the Pens!! Sometimes, when I want an emotional pick-me-up I watch one of their last 3 championship films just to remember what joy and optimism is — I would love to be present as a real-time fan for another adventure like that. With how much I know about them and how much I care, they’re my #2 for sure. I love those flightless fucks!!

Vancouver Canucks. So I started watching live NHL hockey games last summer around I think game 2 of the Habs’ first round series against the Flyers (I saw Price’s “Miracle Save” on twitter while following along bc I was intrigued by the fact that they made it through the play-ins, and was like “OKAY NOW I GOTTA SEE THIS SHIT LIVE”). That was really fun! Riiiight up until the Habs got eliminated. :/ And I was like “well, shit. I’m enjoying this hockey thing too much to stop now. who else is still around I can root for?” And the Canucks were the last Canadian team still in it, and there was buzz about their miraculous first-round win but also uncertainty I believe Markstrom had *just* got injured. So I started watching, ended up witnessing the Bubble Demko Miracle unfold live, had my heart charmed off me by “whatever the hell those two lil blonde bitches have going on” and a delightful underdog story, and here I am. Hitched to the Canuck wagon whether I enjoy it or not. Here for whatever happens! (Doesn’t hurt that I love me some Elton John too 😉)

Washington Capitals. I’m a person who is more likely to be really engaged with a team that has super interesting personalities, characters, and narratives around it — and my GOD are the Capitals good for that. I absolutely definitely started down this road with that mic’d up video from the 2018 final of Ovi telling Nicke “after me, I give it to you baby!” re: the Cup. Like I can pinpoint that there was a day I saw that for the first time in a gifset, squinted at the screen, said “you’re fucking with me...”, went to youtube, watched it be for reals, and was like “well. now I need to know more about ALL this.” After watching games and learning more about the team, I really enjoy the Caps’ “big dumb found family of stone-cold total weirdos” energy, their fun collective chemistry, their Cup story, etc. And oh BOY the fandom is fun during game lb’s! I love all the in-jokes and player nicknames, our delight with the quirks of our colourful wonderful broadcast crew (shoutout Wine Uncles & Co), the way we cheer for record-breaking milestones like they’re a first NHL goal! Being a fan of the Caps AND the Pens can be a bit awkward sometimes, and the team certainly has its blemishes, but my heart is big enough for two Metro teams for sure, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Toronto Maple Leafs. So like, as you can imagine from my previously described upbringing in Hab Land, “haha Leafs suck” is a punchline I have long been familiar with and trained to recite. I got a solid 3 days of laughter and entertainment out of the whole Zamboni Driver Saga last February, oh boy did I ever. But the thing is.... I have the Leafs to thank for the fact that I watch hockey now. See, the entire reason I started paying proper attention to the playoff bubble last summer was because one day, I happened to see the phrase “WHAT IS HAPPENING” trending at 16k tweets on twitter, and clicked on it like “huh?”. Turns out the Leafs were in the middle of their miraculous 3-minute comeback against Columbus and the country was losing its mind. And when they won, I was like “huh... the Zamboni Team is doing THIS??? I may have to start paying attention to this playoffs thing, because if they go All The Way I think that might be the only thing funnier than the Zamboni Incident”. Aaaaand when they immediately lost the next game and were eliminated I was like “lol, sounds about right” and was then immediately distracted by news of the Habs winning the play-in round. So then I spent several months watching playoffs and forgetting about the Leafs. And then one day in early October, looking on YouTube for more hockey to watch after the playoffs ended, I stumbled across something called a Hat Pick, and boy I actually enjoyed this shouty man’s sense of humour and takes on the game... and then when I ran out of Hat Picks and Dangits I watched some Trade Trees, which pulled back the curtain on the business side of the game... and then I discovered LFR’s, which were good background noise for doing tasks... and then I was recommended the episode of the Steve Dangle Podcast about Mitch Marner and The List... and next thing I knew I was listening to more of this podcast, because I found Steve and the guys to be insightful and funny and there was no hockey to watch, and I was trepidatious about accidentally stumbling into the more toxic corners of hockey fandom if I branched out for other content... and, well. If you spend enough hours listening to people passionately analyze every facet of a team, shout and cheer over a team, make fun of that team, nearly cry over that team... it’s really REALLY hard to not start to care about it. Leafs analysis was basically how I learned most of what I’ve learned about hockey this past year! And kudos to Steve and Adam and Jesse, their passionate investment in the Leafs and great content has got ME invested in the Leafs mainly because I want to see things go well for them. I want Charlie Brown to kick the football! I love a triumph over adversity story! Also, I think if the Leafs did Do The Thing it would basically be the combination of “Cubs win the World Series” and “Raptors are the champs” and I wanna watch the city of Toronto go fully apeshit from a safe distance. I don’t adore many their individual players as much as I do some other teams higher on this list, and I still laugh far too much when things go super comically impossibly badly for them, but I am actually pulling for the Leafs!! I want to see it all pay off for them. I want them to go all the way. Gimme that “LEAFS WIN!!!” (Unless it’s against someone above them on this list lol)

[iamanyaluv]

“Your OC Gets at Midnight Call”: Abilene and Arlo

A/N: If I have any grammar errors just let me know. But I hope you enjoy!

I always had a love for antique items, a love that started when I was a little girl, after one visit to my grandmother’s house. She was watching me while my parents were at work. She needed my help sorting through some boxes in her attic.

We went through half the boxes when she came to a sudden stop with her back facing me. I peaked around her, eyes falling on the box in front of her full of black and white pictures and old items I’ve never seen before. She held a small doll in her hand, gazing at it with soft eyes.

The doll was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen with a smooth cream colored face. Her eyes were like shiny green orbs staring into my soul. Each strand of her ginger hair was in ringlets almost hugging the frame of her round face perfectly. She was dressed in a periwinkle winter coat with matching hat and gloves. She reminded me of those cherubs Nana kept in her garden.

“Nana?”

She finally looked at me, eyes wide, remembering I was there. “Oh,” she gawked. “This used to be mine when I was your age. I used to take it everywhere.” She paused for a moment. “I want you to have it, Abilene.”

Whether she realized it or not, she secretly planted the seed in me that later grew into a love of mine. That doll never left my side, no matter how much my parents thought of it as an annoyance. If it were possible, I would’ve taken it to school with me too.

Seeing how much I loved it, my parents made a deal with me to do my chores in exchange for money for another doll. I saved every last penny they gave me and begged them to take me to antique stores to buy another one. As I got older, I ventured out from dolls to record players, clocks, vases. Anything I could get my hands on was mine.

After college, I collected so much stuff to open up my own small antique shop and business has been a success. Every other week I go out to auctions, flea markets, and garage sales to find something new to add to my store. That was how I came across the newest addition to my own personal collection. A 1928 rotary phone, one the first of its kind just sitting in the middle of a man’s yard for a cheaper price than it was worth.

I wasn’t sure if it was the blazing heat outside or just my imagination when the seller came off as nervous and almost relieved to see I took interest in the phone. He told me how he had been trying to get rid of it for a while.

He never explained why he wanted to sell it so badly, but it didn’t really matter to me regardless.

The rest of the day was spent with me going to more yard sales and purchasing more stuff until it was almost completely dark by the time I got back to my shop. I place it in the display case alongside other pieces I’ve collected overtime. It’s black metal was cool to the touch and smooth all around. I quickly put away the other items I’ve purchased before heading to my apartment upstairs.

Sometime in the night, I woke up on my couch covered in cold sweat, the TV playing in the background. I turned off the TV and sat for a moment of silence as a wave of anxiety washed over me. An unexplainable knot sat at the pit of my stomach and my pulse sounded in my ear.

“Hello?” I called. Suddenly, a muffled creak came from below the floorboards. Could someone still be in the shop at this time of the night? I know my assistant went home long after we left the last garage sale of the day. Unless there’s someone trying to break in.

I grabbed the bat by the door to the shop when I made my way down. Every strand of hair on my body stood up at the agonizing silence and the occasional sound of my steps. My heart pounds against my rib cage, begging to be let out.

Ring!

I jumped at the noise, hands gripping the bat harder than before.

Ring!

Following the direction it came from, I stood face to face with the glass display case.

Ring!

That’s impossible. There was no possible way this vintage rotary phone was ringing. It wasn’t even wired up.

Ring!

My shaky hands opened the case and took hold of the handle to feel the vibration of the last ring before picking it up. I pressed the cold metal to my ear.

“Hello?” I said, holding back sobs.

“It’s been some time since somebody finally answered my calls.”

A terrifying shriek left my throat and I slammed the handle back down. I bolted for my apartment and called the police the moment I got inside. The police came within a nick of time. They searched high and low through my whole shop, even inside the display case to see if there were any hidden wires behind the phone. But there was no sign of anyone to be found.

“It was probably a stupid prank by some moron,” one of the officers told me. “There’s been some lousy teenagers in the neighborhood causing trouble. If anything else happens don’t hesitate to give us another call.”

The rest of the night I kept falling in and out of sleep. By the time I officially had to be up, I could barely keep my eyes open. I decided to keep the shop closed for the day and sent a text to my assistant to explain what happened last night. I stayed in my apartment all day, scrolling through emails and scanning the internet for more antique items.

Even with me trying to keep myself occupied, curiosity struck me and I felt an odd pull from downstairs. I go downstairs to grab the phone and race to put it on my coffee table.

There had to be a reasonable explanation for last night. I knew I wasn’t crazy. This phone rang last night. What if there was something wrong with the phone? What if I broke when I tried putting in the display case yesterday.

But it doesn't explain the voice. Someone was on the other line. Wasn’t there? I turned it upside down, searching for hidden buttons.

I took the receiver and put it to my face. “Hello?” I said, not really expecting to get a response.

“Back again, I see,” a familiar male voice said.

“You’re the creep from last night that broke into my shop,” I gasped. I was sure my knuckles turned white from me gripping the handle so hard. “I’m calling the cops again!”

“I can assure you that I didn’t break into your shop. You brought me here yourself,” he laughed, his voice hoarse. “And you would tell the police what? A man broke into your shop and mysteriously called you from a phone that isn’t even wired up? I think you’re smarter than that.”

My brows furrowed thinking about it. “If the phone doesn’t work then how am I talking to you now?”

“It’s quite simple. I’m stuck inside the phone.”

I laugh not because it was funny, but because he sounded ridiculous. “You’re joking right?”

“I only wish I was. I have been trapped in this phone for years with no way of freeing myself.”

“Oh…I’m so sorry,” I apologized. “May I ask you how you managed to get stuck in the phone?”

“I was cursed.” He sighed. “I was an apprentice to a wizard long ago. He took a great liking to me until he found out I was sleeping with his wife. As a reward for my transgression, he trapped me in this phone to suffer for my sins.”

“How unfortunate you are,” I noted. “I’m sorry. I wish there was a way for me to help you out.”

“No need to feel bad for me. I did get myself in this predicament in the first place. Though, knowing I’ve ended up in your care has made this less of an inconvenience to me.”

“Oh, how is that?”

“Well, you do have a lovely voice,” he said. “And it’s been forever since I’ve last encountered a woman, let alone one that has stayed to actually speak to me through this contraption.”

Heat rises to my cheeks and a childish giggle leaves my mouth. “Oh my, thank you.”

“Where are my manners? I haven’t properly introduced myself.” He chuckles. “My name is Arlo.”

“I’m Abilene.”

“Abilene? That’s a beautiful name. How did you get that?” Something about the sound of his voice urged me to want to keep talking to him. Work has held my attention for so long, I couldn’t remember the last time I went on a date. Maybe entertaining Arlo would make things interesting for me.

“It was my Nana’s middle name.”

“Your Nana must be special.”

“She was,” I corrected. “She inspired my love for collecting antiques and opening the shop.”

A few weeks had gone by and conversations between Arlo and I became the highlight of my life. Every day after work, we talked to each other for hours upon hours about whatever came to mind, mainly me rambling about my day at the antique shop. My hands were basically glued to the phone.

“Arlo?” I asked one day in the middle of me reading aloud a book to him. I was laying on the couch in my living room with a book in one hand and the receiver in the other. Reading has become one of Arlo and I’s favorite things to do to pass time.

“Yes, my Abilene.” My face flushed at the sound of affection in his voice. Thankfully he couldn’t see me.

“What was your life like before the wizard put the spell on you?”

He sighed. “My life was simple yet sweet. My powers as a wizard were nowhere near expert level, but I would dedicate my time to learn gimmicky tricks to impress women.”

I ignored the pinching envy as I listened to Arlo mention other women. I tried to play it off. “Quite the charmer, huh?”

“You couldn’t imagine it, Abilene. At that time, my love for women was almost like your love for antiques. I was always looking for another to add to my collection.”

I hummed. “How interesting.” I wrapped my fingers with the cord.

“What seems to be the matter, my sweet?” The pitch in his voice changed ever so slightly.

“Nothing,” I lied. “Do you miss those women?”

“Abilene.” He said my name like he’d caught me with my hand in the cookie jar. “Are you jealous?”

“Of course, not.” I knew he could tell I was lying.

“There’s no need to be jealous, my love. Those women are a part of my past now and can never get in the way of what I feel for you. As you can see, it was my foolish obsession that got me here.” I was hot all over from his confession. My god, how could this one voice hold so much power over me?

I cleared my throat. “Arlo?” I struggled to change the subject.

“The wizard that trapped you in the phone never said anything to give you an idea on how to get out.” I had been trying to figure out how to help Arlo, but no matter how much I looked nothing came up.

“Not from what I recall,” his voice is lower than usual, like he’s thinking really hard about it. My fingers play with the base of the phone, picking at some sort of paint.

“What about the spell he put on you? Maybe if we know what he did, we can reverse it.”

I continued to pick at the paint, humming to make up for my lack of words. My finger came across something unfamiliar. What could this be? I flipped the phone over to see my picking has revealed a compartment underneath. “How odd,” I thought.

“What is it, my sweet?”

“I think I found something.” With the receiver held in between my shoulder and my chin, I pry open the compartment. Inside is a flimsy piece of paper rolled and tied with a red ribbon.

Pulling off the ribbon, there was a sequence of numbers written down. “I wonder,” I said. I flipped the phone back over and turned the dial, my heart picking up speed from waiting in between each number.

“What are you?” Arlo asked.

“Trying something out,” I finished putting the numbers in and waited for something outrageous to happen. “I guess it didn’t work.”

“Abilene?” It took a second for my mind to register that the voice isn’t coming from the phone anymore.

I gasped, scrambling to get up from the couch. “Arlo!”