#I really enjoyed these two little lads even though they were on the screen for 0.30 seconds

[dilettantereviews]

Here's my 2022 Best Of! Yup, that's right, 2022. Better late than never, huh?

Rico Nasty- Intrusive

I heard good things about Rico Nasty for years but her other projects were a little too repetitive for me to fully commit or enjoy her work. This mixtape sees her replacing her industrial rap sound with a more varied approach. She sings over drum and bass and acoustic music. If you enjoyed Princess Nokia’s Metallic Butterfly or Azealia Banks’ Broke with Expensive Taste, then I recommend this album for you. My favorite songs are Messy, Easy, and Focus on Me.

Sasami- Squeeze

After her work in Cherry Glazer and her 2019 solo debut, Sasami finally (somewhat) broke through with this album and it’s no wonder why. Mixing influences as varied as Sheryl Crow and industrial, Sasami showed us about opening up your heart or wanting to destroy someone else’s. My favorites are The Greatest and Skin a Rat.

Charli XCX- Crash

As her first proper album since 2019’s Charli, this album had a lot of expectations placed upon it since True Romance is her best received official album. Fortunately, it all worked out for her and for us. This album sounds like you are scrolling through the Dance Dance Revolution song selecting screen around 2005 with songs you don’t realize you know until you hear it again years later. My favorites are Constant Repeat, Used to Know Me, Selfish Girl, Good Ones, Baby, and of course, Beg for You. 

Beyonce- Renaissance

This album was a victory lap for Beyonce. Not that she slacked off this era, but after creating two innovative video albums, Beyonce wanted to have a more upbeat album after the pandemic. As someone who prefers her uptempos (in a fun club kid way, like Haunted, 7/11, Formation, Six Inch, and Partition instead of the stan wars “go back to Dr. Luke!!111” way), I’m here for it. My favorites include All Up in Your Mind and Pure Honey.

SZA- SOS

I have a general policy where if someone takes over 4 years to release their next project, I develop some kind of object impermanence about them. Not even maliciously, but for every Sky Ferreira (side note: This was written when we still thought Don’t Forget was a part of an era) or My Bloody Valentine, there’s a synthpop band from 2016 that stubbornly sits on the second page of my Last.FM with 189 plays. And I like SZA! CTRL got me though 2017 and 2018 but I completely forgot her rerelease and in between singles until I was preparing this review. So when I heard she was releasing a 20+ track album I was skeptical. It turned out to be great. I enjoy the developed and detailed instruments and her personal lyrics. My favorite songs are Kill Bill, Blind, Shirt and Gone Girl.

Fontaines DC- Skinty Fia

Fontaines DC had a well deserved bigger break out in 2022. I don’t really have a thing to say about this album but I like the way they mix post punk music with a mix of their own Irish culture and gothic and industrial sounds. What could’ve just been a couple of lads at the pub is a unique and informative look at the band and their culture. U2 and Inhaler are shaking. My favorite songs are Jackie Down the Line, Skinty Fia, and How Cold Love Is.

Vero- Unsoothing Interior

I learned about Vero on Popjustice… at least 5 years ago? For a while, it seemed like they would drop a single heavily influenced by Poe and disappear without a follow up or any momentum. I understand it’s hard for new artists to make things work logistically, but they even had repetitive cover art so we couldn’t just joke that there was a wait between the EP and debut. That’s why I was so confused when the album was dropped in 2022. Hailing all the way from Sweden, Vero has vocals that remind me of Shirley Manson and Kim Gordon with post punk music I heard NPR describe (someone else) with the term “fleabag-core”. My favorite songs are Sex and Me and TV shows and Exit 2.

Coco and Clair Clair- Sexy

People always say nostalgia does too much heavy lifting in music now, but the right references can truly justify the most Tweet Deck derivative works. Coco and Clair Clair, who I was very surprised to learn are from Atlanta instead of the UK, have a very retro inspired album that could’ve just been lost in the hyperpop Y2K space with everyone else but they have a different reference pool that elevates them. Hypnotic girl group whispery vocals over whispery chillwave and drum n bass beats truly take me back to the person I was in 2011-2012. If you have a Tumblr photoblog with a convoluted layout that only showed pictures and no captions, this album is for you. If you keep up with McBling depop, this album is for you. If you ever described LAMB by Gwen Stefani as a hip hop album, then this album is for you. I would recommend this album for fans of Kitty and Niki and the Dove. My favorite songs from it are Bad Lil Vibe, Pop Star, and Be With U.

Alvvays- Blue Rev

I didn’t really listen to them before this and I only knew them for the …unique spelling of their band name and a Tumblr post that heavily implied that they should be kept in 2014. Well, this album should put all of their critics to shame. This album was recorded after the band lost their old demos and instruments in a robbery and they were still able to record this album. Pairing dreamy landscapes over fuzzy guitars, Molly Rankin’s confessional lyrics deal with the unexpected nostalgia of running into your ex’s family members in public (a sort of Dan Fogelberg moment for our generation) or justifying a creative career. Besides Pharmacist and Easy on your Own, I recommend Very Online Guy, a leftfield song about male internet behaviors (a self drag, but I want to see how many men wrote about that song and the album). If you only know them from Marry Me, Archie (a song I would personally not leave in a time capsule or box set for indie pop music from 2010-2014), I strongly suggest that you give this album a chance. Fun fact: In addition to being a great meeting spot for coanchors to meet each other, Good Morning America also has a year end best of list and put this as their #1 album. A few years ago, they put the solo project of Soul Coughing’s frontman’s project. So maybe GMA is our new Pitchfork, NME, and Spin Magazine combined (side note: I wrote this before the Pitchfork reshuffle happened, oops).

Shygirl- Nymph

Shygirl has finally released her long awaited debut after releasing her stellar debut. This time, she ditches the electronic and abrasive sound of her 2018 EP and enters her Manny Santos sensual R&B era while still sounding futuristic. Firefly is a song that sounds like it was a Britney 2001 deep cut dusted off and released in 2172. Nike is my other personal stand out.

Hatchie- Giving the World Away

On her sophomore album, Hatchie continues her dream pop and shoegaze sound and expands into some darker palettes that wouldn’t be out of place on the altronica playlist. If that album transported you into a daydream, this album is a moody walk in the rain. My favorites are This Enchanted, Till We Run Out of Air, and Giving the World Away.

Soccer Mommy- Sometimes, Forever

This was sort of a new sound album for Soccer Mommy, with a little more focus on the production. Working with OPN, she had a darker, hazier, more detail oriented production. My favorites include Unholy Affliction, Don’t Ask Me, Feel it All the Time, and Darkness Forever (which gave me Portishead’s second album vibes). This album is more Madder Rose than Massive Attack but you should still give it a shot.

Momma- Household Name

Nostalgic guitar based indie rock that sounds right out of 1994. Reverb guitars, harmonics, and shoegaze pedals. Recommended if you like Siamese Dream by Smashing Pumpkins or Bully’s debut. Speeding 72, Lucky, Brave and No Stage are my favorites. 

Luna Li-  Duality

Psychedelic alternative R&B with a chamber/art/baroque pop edge. I love how she mixes her vulnerability on songs like Flower with strong guitar moments like Alone but not Lonely and What You’re Thinking. This album feels like if you mixed Kali Uchis with Kadjha Bonet. Recommended if you have only used emojis as captions.

Kilo Kish- American Gurl

Kilo Kish’s last official album was released back in 2016, but her pair of consecutive EP’s that came out in 2018 and 2019 were a more focused and cohesive electronic sound. On this album, she went back to her unique existential pop with irreverent Adult Swim vibes. With her kitchen sink production, detached vocals, and quirky irreverent sound, this album has a lot of reasons to not work but somehow puts everything together and keeps you overstimulated like a TikTok video. Recommendations include Choice Cowboy, New Tricks, and American Gurl. Recommended if you like Santigold or Imani Coppola.

Vitesse X- Us Ephemeral

Growing up, I hated electronic music. Did I listen to it or seek it out specifically? No, not in the slightest. But it was just annoying as I saw my beloved Radio Disney pop rock acts just be seen as cringe as what I call ‘unts unts’ music went on the rise. Also, I just thought the fans were annoying. Maybe it was just in my community, but there were a lot of teen DJs who just got jobs hosting or playing cultural events and sweet 16s and posting pretentious memes that made me roll my eyes. I’ve never seen a MLM girl in real life, but I’ve seen DJs talk about how school is just there to mold you and as a DJ, they can be their own boss. Also, just growing up in the teen club/4 loko/Ed Hardy era just made me think it was all try hard “OH, you’ve never been to a festival?’ stuff. But eventually, Charli XCX helped open my mind to new electronic acts while trip hop and deep house helped open me up to older electronic genres. Then I had an “if it’s retro/ironic it’s okay” mentality but now I can regularly like electronic music. That leads us to Vitesse X. Her art deco style of electronics invokes the sleek future, through her stage name and hi tech titles. Is she making a concept album about how technology was supposed to bring us together but is bringing us apart? Is it a scifi story? Did she promise us a video for each song that made a movie but she stopped and hoped we would forget about it? No! She’s making music you could hear at Zara’s, in your car, or even at a party or club. In this age of hot takes, think pieces, and more, a concept like nepobaby can go from a fun internet only in joke to a “reclaimed” term that loses all meaning. Vitesse X helps prove that sometimes, saying less really is more. My favorites are Potential Energy, Centrifuge Me, and Us Ephemeral.

Piri and Tommy- Froge.mp3

The drum n bass duo that came out of the blue and right back into it. Words is the best positive motivational affirmation dance song since Show Me Love by Robin S. I also like Silver Lining and On & on. It looks like we’re not getting a new project from them, they split up and now they’re going to ruin all of our Last.fm charts because they each get credited separately. 

They Hate Change- Finally, New

I feel like Drum n Bass has been on the rise since Princess Nokia’s Metallic Butterfly went on streaming for the last few years, but it had been kind of mixed with other electronic sounds like hyperpop or UK garage so it was an afterthought. They Hate Change overcame that. Rapping over Drum n bass, the Tampa duo helps showcase something cool and forward thinking from Florida on their label debut. I recommend them if you like Outkast or Big Fish Theory from Vince Staples. My favorite songs are Who’s Next, Little Brother, and Perm.

Foushee- Softcore

I hate to make a Mean Girls reference in 2024 (this was another review I had written in winter 2023, before I knew there was a movie adaptation of the Mean Girls musical coming out), but this album reminds me of the Halloween party scene where Cady shows up in an “ugly” costume while everyone is wearing cute costumes and she is confused. That is how this album feels for alternative R&B. While now everyone with a slowed down drum beat gets an alternative R&B genre tag, but this is truly “alternative”, mixing slinky R&B vocals over guitars and yelling. Even if it doesn’t always work (several songs are under 2 minutes), you can definitely admire the attempts. Behind SZA, Foushee is the second best R&B album from a New Jerseyan in 2022 (sorry, 070 Shake). My favorite songs are I’m Fine and Simmer Down. Listen if you want an internet poisoned pop star but Doja has gone too far for you. 

Ravyn Lenae- Hypnos

After her stellar 2018 EP, Ravyn finally followed up with her debut album and it was worth the wait. Her airy, hypnotic vocals still sound fresh and the collaborations don’t take away from the sound at all. My favorites are 3D and Venom.

Sudan Archives- Natural Brown Prom Queen

Sudan Archives made it very far on my 2019 Best of List. I would not be able to tell you a song from that album, or if she even made it on (because as of this writing it is still unpublished) but I knew she was talented and I thought her violin gave her a unique sound. This time around, she did a sonic 180 and went for a more left field mixture of sounds and had an even better album. Listen to stand out Homemaker. 

Glacier Veins- Lunar Reflection

Normally, I consider my best of list a failure if I don’t find at least one new, completely random small Bandcamp band that didn’t get reviewed from Allmusic or Pitchfork or any other major website. If they don’t have a Wikipedia page, even better! This year, Glacier Veins is one of those bands for me. If you like female fronted pop punk with a side of experimental noise pop added to it, I would definitely recommend them. 2018’s KID, 2009 Paramore, Halsey, Poppy, and Willow fans should be happy. My favorite songs are Cover Me, Here & There, Lunation, Autonomy, and Flower Moon.

Amanda Shires- Take It Like a Man

Alt country queen. Recommended if you waited for Jenny Lewis’ album for Puppy in a Truck or you enjoy feeling like you are a Sons of Anarchy character or perhaps Yellowstone. Mature alt country with great, clear production. My favorite song is Hawk for the Dove. (Side note: I wrote this way before they filed for divorce). 

Lola Kirke- Lady for Sale

Picks up where Pearl Charles left off for countrypolitian. If you thought this would be a low effort vanity project you are mistaken. Unclear if this is a pastiche or not but very unexpected country album from this British actress. Pink Sky is my favorite song. Recommended if you like Pearl Charles or Margo Price.

Honey Dijon- Black Girl Magic

A great house music DJ. Recommended if you want to keep the party going after Renaissance.

Montell Fish- Her Love Still Haunts Me Like a Ghost

I listen to an adult alternative college radio station regularly and to paint a picture of what that’s like, I can now say “wow, that Paul Simon song slaps”. Sometimes they do play younger, internet only bedroom produced artists like Claud, Kafune, Joe P, and now, Montell Fish. When I first heard the distorted bass and reverbs I was confused at how different and all out he went but this is a true EP of heartbreak and desperation. Listen if you like PM Dawn, Miguel and Steve Lacy. Pretend Lovers is my favorite song. 

Carly Cosgrove- See you in Chemistry

Nostalgia really can sell anything these days. In the DJ world, we got DJ Sabrina the Teenage DJ, DJ Ross from Friends, and DJ Seinfeld. There’s even the genre of Dariacore! Emo has a 2000’s pastiche in Carly Cosgrove, a reference I embarrassingly didn’t get for a long time. The nostalgia stops there and the rest is a solid pop punk record. I don’t really listen to a lot of pop punk/emo so I can’t compare to others in the genre but I think the vocals give the instruments room to breathe. My favorites were Rue the Day, Cloudblock, and Munck. Listen if you miss the channel 2000’s The N but at this point would settle for the era of Teennick that only replayed iCarly, Zoey 101, Drake and Josh, Ned’s Declassified, and Victorious. 

[unofferable-fic]

“You’re just annoyed that your personal headcanon isn’t canon!”

Or; my personal thoughts (ranting) about the Loki series and its surrounding toxic discourse.

First of all, I’m going to preface this with the following: whether you loved or hated the Loki series, or you fall somewhere in between, your opinion is valid and if anyone tells you that you can’t express that in a critical manner, then they need to kindly go away. I should also mention the obvious which most people understand — death threats directed at anyone involved in making the series is disgusting and if you do so you’re fucking deluded.

Now that that’s out of the way…

I’m someone who wasn’t overly fond of the series in the end. I went in surprisingly hopeful after enjoying Wandavision and TFATWS. For the most part I really enjoyed the first 3 episodes (episode 3 being the best imo) but I found myself quickly disillusioned by how the narrative seemed to fall apart in terms of cohesiveness. Keeping it short and sweet, I feel like a lot of the relationships (whether platonic or otherwise) were rushed. I found Loki’d dynamic with both Mobius and Sylvie to be confusing, unbelievable, and all around not earned. It feels as though they had a start point and an end point (ie. Loki needs a genuine friend) but we didn’t see any of the journey in between to show how the relationship developed. The quote “after all this time…” in episode 6 sent me over. Like Loki pls you’ve known this woman for max two days or something… No, I’m not salty because he didn’t end up with Mobius. No, I’m not salty because of “selfcest”. I’m salty because I don’t think the relationships were done as well as they could have been. Also, even though no one asked, Loki x therapy is the only ship I give a rats about.

Other points include the following:

Loki felt more like a side character with little impact on the events in his own show.

Sylvie sometimes teeters into Mary-Sue territory, and at times appears to be valued only because she is a woman.

Mobius’ relationship with Loki seems inherently toxic and he is not his therapist. As someone who regularly attends therapy sessions, if your therapist ever talks to you like Mobius talks to Loki — get a new goddamn therapist, Jesus Christ…

In my opinion, the show explores very little of Loki’s character and what makes him tick, especially considering this is post-Avengers 2012 Loki. I’m aware there were only six episodes and I’m not expecting everything to be crammed in, but where Loki was in Thor 1 and the Avengers seems so disconnected from where he is in the series. It seems to portray him as someone hellbent on power and ruling, as opposed to someone desperate for respect and the love of his family/people.

But I digress, the real point of this post was to tell certain people to feck off. Obviously there’s going to be discourse around the series, but I’m starting to get really sick of one side telling the other “you put your personal headcanons on Loki”, “he’s not your character”, “you’re just annoyed because canon didn’t go how you wanted”, “you’re projecting your own abuse on him”, blah blah blah. And here was me thinking the discourse around Ragnarok was bad, but this is another level, lads.

Here’s an idea, how about people who liked the show stop acting like those who didn’t just pulled their opinion on Loki right out of their own ass? All I know is that every opinion I’ve ever formed on him was based on the first three films he appeared in. That’s it — nothing made up because I love to project as someone who went through similar shit to him.

Discuss the show, but don’t be a massive bellend about it.

In summary, Tom Hiddleston I am free next Saturday if you are free next Saturday and I’ll buy all the rounds of Jameson you need while we talk about Loki and how he — no matter what happens to him within the MCU from here on out — will always be one of favourite characters to grace the big screen.

(Anyway who cares what I think, people are just going to call me a whiny Loki apologist regardless.)

[naivesilver]

HIIIIIIIIIII 💗💗💗 🎲 + 3 and maybe a ficlet or playlist ? :)

OKAY LISTEN I MUST APOLOGIZE FOR THIS ONE because it pulled Pierrot and I a) adapted an idea I never got around completing b) went a LIL overboard, sorry about that jadhkajfhdajhalhf

Send me 🎲 + a number and I will put ALL my OCs into a randomizer and choose the first OC after the number of randomizations to make something for.

“Mom,” Pierrot blurts out, apropos of nothing, “they’re putting out the tickets for our end of the year show.”

Honestly, in the endless motherhood manual Leona thinks she ought to write one day, she fears she’ll have to add an entire chapter about children trying to talk to you right when you’re in the middle of something, seeing how well-versed her son has become in that, over the years. As such, she finishes counting her stitches, the most delicate part of the project in her hands, and only then looks up to find the boy still looking at her, his fists planted on his sides in a show of mock-outrage. “That’s nice, dear.”

Pierrot pulls a face, gesturing widely towards the screen of his phone. “How many should I get, do you think?”

“Depends how many people you want to come see you perform, love. I can’t be the one to tell you that.”

“But what if they don’t want to come?”

“Then you should ask them beforehand, mh?” She looks back down to her needle and thread, a smile dancing on her lips. “I am coming, myself, whether you want me to or not, so you’d better put my name down for a seat- not too far from the stage, please, if we can. I want to hear you well for once.”

She hears him scoff good-naturedly, then traipse away through the kitchen door, where her partner is making coffee for the adults present. “Marco! Do you want to come to my drama club show?”

“Well, of course, lad.” It tugs at Leona’s heartstrings to catch the man sounding so fond when talking to her son, even when the latter is as jittery as an overeager puppy. “If you want me to come, that is.”

“Now you guys are just making fun of me. Thanks, though.”

More wandering about, which Leona discreetly lifts her head to follow again, keeping track of the restless soul roaming Marco’s house. Or, well, perhaps calling him a soul might be a tad too generous – within seconds he’s making a beeline for Pinocchio, who’s laying on the couch, huddled against Archie’s side as he watches the doctor fill in a crossword puzzle.

Pierrot unceremoniously drops himself onto the other boy’s belly way more heavily than any simple spirit might, earning himself a startled grunt, and then shoves his phone directly in Pinocchio’s face, wearing his most charming grin. “And obviously you’ll be there, too, Pinou.”

Pinocchio swats him away with a half-hearted huff. “Why did you ask everyone else nicely, and I get an order?”

“Because I’m counting on your presence to my best performance yet. You should be honored to be around to witness the magic of theatre from such a privileged position.”

“The only thing I’m witnessing right now is you smashing my kidneys flat.”

“So prosaic.” Pierrot, far from removing himself from that position, instead drapes himself even further over his stepbrother, as if the latter were an extension of the couch proper. “I’m wounded, Pinou. You have no respect for my craft.”

“Cut it out, you two,” Leona chides them, though she doesn’t sound particularly convincing, not even to herself. There are some battles a mother of teenage boys knows better than to fight, and those little fools’ dismissiveness towards the concept of personal space is one of them – after all, Pinocchio does enjoy unprompted cuddling, it must be said, and besides, Pierrot knows better than to create genuine discomfort. Other kids would likely be acting much worse, in their shoes.

Still, she’d be grateful if they tried to contain themselves for once, just to shake things up. “You’ll push poor Archie off the couch in no time, if you keep this up.”

“Oh, they’re not bothering me, really,” the man interjects, ever the peacemaker, but the boys waste no time in latching onto his words – Pinocchio even cranes his neck back to shoot him a pleading, long-suffering look, more hilarious than genuine.

“Jiminy, please, help- he’s attacking me, see?”

“I’m sorry, Pinocchio, I’m afraid you’re on your own this time.”

“You heard that?” Pierrot says, jovially. “You should listen to your conscience, Pinou. He’s talking a lot of sense right now.”

Pinocchio pulls a face at that, unconvinced. “Maybe you should take a turn with him, from now on. You look like you need a lot more- more consciencing than me, and he’s been with me since I was made.”

Pierrot gasps, the picture of dramatic shock. “Wow. Talk about playing favorites- he wasn’t there when I was made.”

“Good God, Pierrot-“ Leona begins, but Pinocchio beats her to the punch, shoving the older boy off himself and onto the living room floor. He braces against the couch as he does so, slowing the other’s fall enough that their playful tussling doesn’t turn into a painful business, but Pierrot has no concept of gracefully accepting defeat – he sits there with an exaggeratedly shocked look on his face, and then launches into one of his trademark lamentations, as loud as it isn’t genuine.

“I have been betrayed,” he wails, clutching at his chest with a broad gesture. “Why do you hurt me so, brother? I have always been good to you.”

Pinocchio pushes himself to a sitting position as well, unimpressed. Then he leans forward, his elbows propped against his knees and his nose a mere few inches from Pierrot’s, and enunciates, slowly and emphatically: “Pierrot, if you don’t shut the fuck up, I will buy a purple shirt, get on the stage while you’re rehearsing, and say Macbeth’s name five times. I’m warning you.”

“Pinocchio,” Marco and Archie say at once, warningly, one appearing on the kitchen door, the other wearily putting down his newspaper, but Pierrot drowns them both with his outraged response, eyebrows raised: “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me. See if I won’t.”

There is a stretch of silence, as close to the stand-off at the end of a western movie as it can be achieved by two lanky boys on the verge of seventeen dutifully adhering to Marco’s no-shoes-in-the-house rule. Then Pierrot reaches up slightly, enough that he can stick out his tongue and clumsily lick Pinocchio’s cheek, and suddenly there is a lot of spluttering and laughing going on, and the both of them are up and running off, stomping after each other with an amount of noise that would make a herd of elephants envious.

Leona sighs, watching them go for a short while, before shaking her head and returning her attention to her work, rummaging to find her thimble. “And here I thought they stopped being disgusting after a certain age. I was so sure I could avoid it all, adopting an older one.”

Archie lets out a cough that sounds suspiciously like a chuckle, and there is a rustle of paper, no doubt picking up where he’d left off as well. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Leona, but I’m afraid that it never really goes away. It doesn’t stop when they grow up, that I know of.”

It’s Marco’s turn to scoff in clear outrage, this time, and Leona’s to burst out laughing, though she doesn’t restrain herself at all, and instead lets it ring out loud and delighted, taken entirely by surprise – she’s still snickering to herself a moment later when she tries to speak again, in truth, for all that she makes an effort to quell it down and infuse some seriousness in her words.

“By the way, don’t be fooled- Pierrot definitely would love if you both came to the show, this time around. He just can’t say it in a sensible way, is all.”

“Takes after me a bit, doesn’t he?”

“Keeping encouraging him like that, dear, and next time we’ll be having dinner at my house. Without you, if I can help it.”

[napstawantstosleep]

One of these two hasn't fallen for the trick of the God of Charm and I'm not saying which one

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

26 for the prompts? perhaps w the cat n mouse lads :3 (also look danny i did it i sent a prompt are u proud)

I...actually don't remember what the prompt was for this one, but I'm 87% sure it was "I'm not that scary, am I?"

So fine since y'all keep asking for 'em, here's more of the cat and mouse bois. Shoutout to @gabbydafurry and an anon for finally giving them names.

--

“C’mon.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“I said no.”

“I’ll make pollo asado for dinner, we can eat it together while we watch!”

Aaron sighed and rubbed his hands against his forehead, trying to ease the dull throb that had yet to wane over the past two days. His headache certainly wasn’t being helped by the constant badgering of his...roommate, for a lack of better words (as well as being a title so eagerly self bestowed by the cat in question) but much like many of their other interactions, his resolve was starting to wear thin. Usually, he was able to hold his ground for at least a week until he was bribed into giving the other some type of social interaction with the promise of his favorite foods. Today, however, the poor mouse just wanted a moment’s peace free from knocking on the walls or calling through the cracks until he answered, and if that meant watching some stupid movie then fine.

Plus, Lucas did know how to make some incredible Mexican food.

“...fine,” Aaron conceded after a pause, the pressure behind his eyes giving him a sharp pang before fading to its usual ache, almost like his own body was projecting how horrible of an idea this was.

As soon as the mouse slipped out from behind the curio, he came face to face with the massive grin of the cat mere inches away from the opening. Seeing the grin only split wider when he was fully in view of the other normally would have instinctively sent a shiver up his spine, it was kind of difficult to be intimidated seeing how Lucas had strangely contorted his body to lay on the floor between the curio and the bookcase. Most cats seemed to be fairly flexible, so it probably wasn’t too uncomfortable for him to be so bent and curled up, but he definitely lost some of that hunter’s prowess with his back twisted sideways and one leg leaning against the shelving.

In a flash, Lucas had managed to untangle his strange positioning to instead be crouched on his knees, now looming over Aaron in a way he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to. He flinched back when his hand started to reach out towards him, fully intending to scoop him up to dizzying heights without a second thought, but the appendage stopped just short of touching him at all. Instead, he dropped his hand palm side up and waited, smiling all the while. At least he was getting better at remembering Aaron’s explicit request to not be grabbed without permission, though he did always apologize with a sheepish look and some little treat whenever he forgot.

Once Aaron climbed onto the awaiting hand that radiated a delightfully intense warmth into his already aching muscles, Lucas was already jumping up a chattering a mile a minute about how much the mouse was going to love the movie he picked out, how dinner would be ready soon, how he wasn’t expecting him to actually agree to watch a scary movie with him since he never seemed like the type who would be into that sort of thing but--

“It’s a scary movie?” Aaron interrupted, the noise finally registering beyond the headache. Truthfully, he tuned a lot of what the other said out for almost every conversation, not that it ever seemed to make a difference. Yeah, sorry, I’m a bit of a chatterbox, he admitted once, but it’s less weird talking to someone who doesn’t respond than to talk to yourself, right?

Debatable.

Lucas tilted his head and snorted. “Uh, yeah? That was one of the first things I told you about. You know that one actress who’s in almost every one of those Christmas movies we watch, who’s always the jealous best friend?” Aaron has no idea who he was referring to given that he never absorbed anything from those stupid romance movies he was boarderline forced to watch, but nodded anyways, “Right, this is supposed to be her big break out role, or something. It’s the first thing she’s doing as a lead actress, and you know, good for her! I’m glad she’s getting out of that typecast she’s been in forever. Horror probably wouldn’t be my first choice for her, but I guess since she has those singing vocals it could carry over to being a scream queen. Kind of like when--”

And Aaron was out of the conversation again.

Lucas continued to drone on about the actress’s entire film career, or at least that’s what the mouse was assuming he was doing when he occasionally zoned back in to pick up a stray word here and there. The headache he had been staving off to the best of his ability was starting to come back with twice as much force as it often did in the later days. He probably could have just asked the other for some aspirin, maybe even some cold medicine as that was no doubt what this bout of illness was turning into, but asking the cat for anything was always out of the question. Of course, Lucas tried to sway him numerous times into thinking it most certainly was not and that he could always ask for whatever he needed, never to his avail. Aaron was indeed willing to prolong his suffering if it meant not having to stomach the dreadful embarrassment that would come to being indebted to the feline, no matter how insignificant.

Unfortunately, he was only setting himself up for failure in thinking this “agreement” would be providing him any sort of relief. His headache was treading dangerously close into becoming a full fledged migraine and the flashes of light and screams from the television would not be doing him any favors. His only saving grace was that, after he had been settled on the couch and Lucas scampered off to get the dinner he promised, the cat turned off every other light possible to, as he put it, really get them in the spooky mood!

The smell of the food was delicious and nauseating. His stomach both wanted and revolted at the idea of anything filling it, which would only serve to worsen his headache no doubt. Damn it all, he wanted to throttle both himself and this illness, the first for agreeing to watch this stupid movie when he was already feeling under the weather, the second for preventing him from getting his half of the deal. These movie-dinner dates deals were the only reason Aaron continued to stick around, even if he thought the torment of being forced to watch awful romcoms in exchange for a hot, homemade meal was a little unfair. No, that wasn’t entirely true, Lucas was a freaking culinary genius as far as the mouse was aware. It was a wonder why he wasn’t majoring in a cooking field.

“I’m not hungry right now,” Aaron lied when Lucas had asked why he wasn’t eating. “I’ll try some later.”

The cat looked at him strangely before shrugging. “Alright, just let me know. If you don’t like it, I can always make you something else.” There he goes again, offering things he knows the other can’t accept. At least he could let it slide this time as he had no appetite to think of any other dish.

Lucas finished his own meal in silence, completely fixed on the television as the opening scene carried on, introducing the canine main character that Aaron did, in fact, vaguely recognize. This was fine, he figured, the dark apartment coupled with a painfully slow movie, a warm body moving to curl up behind him as it so often did during these deals, he could probably get a few moments of real rest in before the credits rolled. As much as he loathed to admit it, the cat was actually rather...comfortable to be forcefully cuddled by. He wasn’t like other movie goers that needed to make a comment on every character’s decision, steady breathing and the occasional purr helping the mouse slowly relax.

That relaxation was cut short as soon as the romcom actress tore her tiny avian neighbor to shreds by the end of the first act.

Aaron had hardly been paying attention to the storyline up until this point, something to do with the girl being bitten and experiencing insatiable hunger lately. The sudden carnage of the otherwise trusting little prey creature made both of them flinch in surprise, though Lucas was quick to laugh it off. From then on the mouse’s unwavering attention was glued to the screen, but not by his choice. A chill ran through him each time she claimed another unsuspecting victim, always a prey animal, and ripped them apart with her teeth and nails like a starving animal. The way the tiny’s incredibly realistic viscera was slurped into her bloody mouth made him queasy, all too easily imagining himself in their shoes.

Eventually, her hunger became too strong and she began attacking fellow predator species as well. Ripping into throats and soft bellies was far messier than snacking on a tiny creature in three bites, making her feast all the more gory. While the violence still unsettled him, it was a touch more bearable now that he couldn’t picture his own body being mangled between the teeth of a predator he thought he could trust. Speaking of…

The mouse gulped and risked a glance behind him at the other who had hardly moved, save for a few jolts and snickers whenever a particularly good jump scare managed to startle him. It didn’t go unnoticed that every time Aaron had physically reacted to a sudden screech or attack, the cat would curl just a little bit tighter around him, hiding a laugh behind a rumbling purr. He wanted to believe this was meant to be an act of comfort and not something equally as nefarious as the canine plotting her next kill. Regardless, Lucas was equally transfixed on the movie, except he seemed to be enjoying every minute of the horror aspect. His tail would flick in interest during the high tension scenes, even more so when a chase sequence was underway. It made sense, considering that was his favorite game to make Aaron play.

Whatever the case may be, the mouse couldn’t help but be unnerved tenfold that the other had the audacity to enjoy a fictional movie he was interested in seeing. The last thing the mouse wanted was for Lucas to get any more ideas when it came to chasing him around the apartment, much less awaken any sort of primitive instinct to maim his prize after it had been captured. To this day, it remains a deep seated fear in the back of his mind that every time the cat cupped his hands over him, his teeth would be quick to follow. Natural instincts were hard to shake for a reason when it came to prey animals such as himself, he could only hope the same wasn’t true for predators.

His imagination was running rampant, enough so that he completely missed how the movie ended. Something about a cure, something about being put down, whatever. The only thing on his mind was the morbidly hilarious thought that if Lucas were to go feral like the canine, would he eat him raw or would he cook him up in another fantastic dish?

Aaron jumped when Lucas moved to sit up behind him, only now registering the credits scrolling across the screen. He stretched a bit, the quickly fading warmth that had been surrounding the mouse making him realize just how tight the other must have been snuggled around him. How did he not notice?

“Wow,” Lucas said, pursing his lips. “That...was one of the worst movies I have ever seen in my life.”

That wasn’t the reaction Aaron had been expecting him to have, but it was certainly better than to hear him go on about how it was a brilliant masterpiece. He got up to flick the lights back on, still laughing as he recounted each poorly written scene and cheesy effects. “I mean, oh my god, right? The mail man saved everyone? Seriously? I actually feel bad for making you watch that, you totally have dibs on the next movie night.”

He turned around to look at the mouse who was still huddled tight on the couch, wide eyes glued to the screen even if it was just names moving along with ominous background music. Lucas gave him another quizzical look, smirking.

“C’mon, even you have to admit those tinies had zero survival instincts. Like, who goes up to a rabid dog and asks for directions? I get suspending my disbelief and all, but they could have made it just a pinch realistic. This is so going to tank her acting career…” The cat shook his head and moved closer to the couch so that he stood right in front of the television, finally drawing the other’s attention to himself. “Hey, you hungry now?”

Oh, absolutely fucking not. An hour and a half of being tensed up gave no relief to his aching muscles and now that the lights were back on, so was his pounding headache. His stomach rolled, the nausea a mix of dizziness and disgust from the special effects. He didn’t even want to think about food, he didn’t want to be out in the open anymore, and he most certainly did not want to spend another minute in the cat’s company right now.

“S-sure…” Aaron finally squeaked out. He just needed Lucas out of the room, distracted somewhere so he could make a break for it. In some instances, he would have just darted off whether the cat saw him or not, but that always resulted in a game of chase that had a 50/50 success rate, the other loving it anyways. All he wanted was some peace and quiet to rest up and heal and not think about how easy it would be for the other to bite off his head whenever he felt like it.

Lucas stood there for a minute, studying him, and just when Aaron genuinely feared he was going to pounce, he flashed an innocent smile. “Cool, just give me a couple minutes to get it heated up.” And with that, he disappeared into the kitchen.

Aaron decided to be bold and waste a few precious seconds of his head start to collect himself. Deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous. Lucas had been nothing but kind to him. Aloof, but still kind all the same. But as a prey animal that spent the better part of his life living in walls and stealing to survive, trust was a risk he simply couldn’t take. There was hardly any benefit to keeping up this con if the end goal was simply to eat him. For all he knew, though, Lucas was nothing more than a merciless sociopath that was willing to milk every ounce of fear he could before chowing down. A sociopath obsessed with romantic comedies and wore an apron when he cooked and had begged Aaron for two months straight to tell him when his birthday was so that he could make him a miniature cake.

...okay, so maybe Lucas wasn’t a sociopath, but that didn’t mean he was trustworthy. Evolution gave him sharpened fangs and agile reflexes for a reason and the mouse was not about to find out what it was like to be on the receiving end of those one day.

With his head as clear as it was going to be for the time being, sans the dull throb behind his eyes, the mouse finally pushed himself up to make his way over to the couch arm. Slowly, as to not overwork his stiff joints, he climbed his way down to the floor and skittered under the couch for a little extra protection. Strangely, he noticed that he didn’t hear any noises coming from the kitchen just up ahead and when he stopped by the doorway, he couldn’t see anyone either. Losing track of the massive cat should not be possible, especially considering this was a one bedroom apartment and there was literally nowhere else for the feline to go without coming back through the entryway. Aaron should have taken it as a blessing, but of course he couldn’t leave well enough alone.

He proceeded to be daring and come out from under the couch completely to peek into the kitchen, confirming it was empty. Again, that shouldn’t even be possible for Lucas to slip out without having to directly pass the living room to go somewhere else. Unless he had, which would mean Aaron missed him somehow. He had been in quite a deep thought process on the couch...but he could have sworn he was only collecting himself for a minute!

The answer became glaringly obvious when the mouse took a few hesitant steps back and turned to retreat under the safety of the couch, only to come face to face with Lucas. He damn near jumped out of his skin, slamming his back against the wall in an effort to gain another inch of distance between himself and the face taking up his entire view. Really, this was nothing too out of the ordinary for the cat, he loved to sneak up and pounce whenever the opportunity presented itself and Aaron wasn’t too obviously close to heart failure. What made his heart stutter, however, was the fact that Lucas didn’t look like...well, Lucas. There was no smile, no warm eyes, no words being talked a mile a minute about nothing.

No, there was just a frowning cat with his ears pinned back and pupils slit, stalking closer with a terrifying rumble in his throat.

Instinct overtook him as soon as he saw the other’s lip twitch, trying to dart under the couch for safety and having his path immediately blocked by a hand being slammed down, claw out. Aaron couldn’t even yelp, the bile in his throat threatening to turn into vomit if he idled around too long. So, he didn’t. Instead, he turned on his heel and scampered in the opposite direction with the cat hot on his trail. He very nearly dodged a swipe, Lucas hissing that his blow didn’t land while Aaron only tried to speed up his sprinting. They circled maybe half of the living room, the mouse weaving under furniture while the cat knocked into them in an effort to jarr his prey into taking a misstep.

It worked, unfortunately, when Aaron took a sharp turn at the bookshelf and caused Lucas to clip it with his shoulder. The small bump did nothing to deter the cat on his hunt, but the two books that came tumbling down were enough to make the smaller skid and trip to avoid being squashed under the novels. He ended up twisting his ankle awkwardly, stumbling flat on his face while the momentum of his running made him roll twice until he landed on his back. Despite being winded and the additional pain in his leg, he knew there was no time to waste, trying to pull himself. It was too late, though. The cat was already on top of him, hand coming down to pin him under his palm while only his head poked free from between his fingers.

That cold, terrifying face came nearer, eyes tunnel visioned on its prize. Oh God, Aaron would give anything to have the other Lucas back right now. He’d watch a thousand sappy movies, do a date night for every meal, actually move into his bedroom like the cat had suggested he do a dozen times. He wanted...fuck, he wanted his friend back. What he thought was his friend, anyways. Not this killer, not this predator who was baring his teeth and was now mere inches away from biting off his face and--

The growling above him broke off into a snort shortly before turning into a full blown laugh. Aaron wasn’t sure when he had closed his eyes in preparation for his certain death, but when he dared to open them and blinked away the budding tears, he saw that smile he had been wishing for again. Kind and warm, just like eyes, and it was like Lucas had never even taken the form of a starving hunter in his life. Like he hadn’t been moments away from devouring his beloved roommate.

“Oh, come on,” he howled with laughter, “You can’t be serious! That movie actually scared you? I mean, I thought you looked a little freaked out by it, but wow!”

The movie...so this...this wasn’t real. Lucas was just pretending, just playing a prank on him. He thought that the movie had simply wound him up and made him jumpier than usual, no different than watching a zombie flick and popping out from behind a bush at your friend later on.

Except it was different. It was different in the fact that zombies aren't real, but predators are. Predators didn’t need an excuse to go feral and maim and consume their tiny cohabitants, they simply could by the laws of nature. And yes, it may be illegal and have several laws in place to protect prey species, but if no body was ever left behind, who could say if foul play was involved? That was the whole plot point in the otherwise dull movie they sat through together, the reason why the woman was able to avoid suspicion of her sickness by feeding on tinies that could only be reported missing at most.

Lucas’s laughter had tapered off, still clearly enjoying himself. “Alright, note to self, no more horror movies.” Finally, he released Aaron from under his hand to sit back on his haunches. “Man, I really didn’t think you would scare that easily, especially from a B-movie like that. Anyways, are you actually ready to eat now? I put your stuff in the oven so it would reheat better, but it should be done by now….Ronnie?”

Aaron hadn’t moved an inch since he was originally pinned, not even after the hand had been lifted off of him. He just stared up blankly at the cat, trembling and wide eyed, unable to do anything as the rapid succession of events sunk in. The cat’s humor died down a little, smile hesitating.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t resist, you know?” He shrugged a little sheepishly. “You didn’t even notice when I came back so I thought...I don’t know, it was funnier in my head. I almost broke character and started laughing before you ran!” With still no verbal response, Lucas reached out a hand. “Aaron? You good? Come on, I’m not that scary, am I?”

The reaction he got probably wasn’t what he was hoping for with Aaron suddenly scrambling to push himself away from the outstretched hand that might trap and tear apart his limbs. He gave a sharp squeak, managing to find his footing only to come crashing down as soon as he took the first step, his ankle noticeably swollen by this point. His cry of pain was muffled into a desperate grunt, trying so hard to drag himself away as a last ditch effort to avoid the same fate as the bird and the squirrel and the mole in the movie.

Lucas gasped. “Oh, Ronnie, your leg!” Both hands were reaching for the mouse now, aiming to cup around him and scoop him up before they surely put him out of his misery. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t...oh my God, I hurt you.”

Yes and no. In truth, Aaron had been the one to hurt himself by making his body move in ways it physically shouldn’t. But that didn’t change the fact that Lucas had shown his true colors. Perhaps in hindsight, that wasn’t a fair assessment, as he really did think he was playing a harmless little joke on a skittish friend. The pain came from knowing that the cat could turn feral, though, no matter how genuine he was being. There was still clearly an instinct within him, one that knew how to hunt and bare his teeth and hiss, one that knew deep down where they both ranked on the food chain. It hurt in knowing everything he thought about his friend, everything that kept him from really letting down his walls like the other so desperately wanted, was right. Cats and mice were not friends.

“Get away from me!” Aaron shrieked when the hands came too close. Though they withdrew quickly, he didn’t bother to watch if they would move again as he forced himself up to stumble back to his nook behind the bookshelf.

“Aaron, wait!” It was a fruitless request and Lucas knew it as he didn’t even try to stop the mouse from disappearing behind the furniture back into the walls. It would only make matters so much worse. “Aaron, please, you’re hurt, just...at least let me help you. Please. I...I’m so sorry! It was an accident, I promise!”

The cat shuffled closer, leaning down in hopes that the other could at least hear his pleas better, could hear how sincere he was trying to be. “I would never hurt you, Aaron. You’re one of my best friends. Look, it was a stupid prank and I’m an asshole and I’ll never do it again, just please come out. Just let me know if you’re alright?”

It didn’t matter how hard or for how long he tried, Aaron was long gone within the walls.

[hrina]

In The Ring, Pt. IV - Uppercut

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M WORD COUNT: 10.6k REQUESTED: yes! 

well lads................this is it 🥺🥺🥺 thank u guys so much for all the love you’ve given this series. i would’ve never expected to receive such a positive response, but u guys rly went above and beyond. i adore u all so much 

warning: parts of this fic will contain mentions of blood, violence, mild stalking, and sexual content. if any of that makes you uncomfortable, please take care of yourself and keep scrolling <3

as always, my masterlist and my inbox are both linked in my bio! i worked really hard on this last part! i wanted to make sure it was all perfect, so i hope everyone enjoys it. gentle reminder to reblog the fics you like! it’s a great way to show appreciation as well as give authors more exposure. ok that’s all hehe can’t wait to hear your thoughts! take care 💙💙💙

PART I: Jab

PART II: Cross

PART III: Hook

~*~

    March 20, 2021

Harry keeps his promise, and Artie brings your car back around to your place the next day. You sit up straight at the table when you hear the familiar honking of a horn sound from outside. Your feet suddenly seem to have a mind of their own, carrying you out of the kitchen quickly with your father’s confused inquiries ringing in your ears. You open the front door before Artie even has the chance to knock.

“Thanks, Jason,” you tell him, breathless.

He hands you your keys and accepts the quick hug that you bestow upon him. “No problem, little girl. Is everything alright?”

Harry didn’t tell him.

“Yeah,” you lie, nodding. “I just—I had a bit too much to drink last night, that’s all.” Your voice drops an octave. “Don’t tell my dad, okay?”

Artie presses two of his fingertips together and drags them over the seam of his mouth, metaphorically sealing his lips. You smile, your heartbeat returning to its regular pace beneath the confines of your ribs.

You step back, extending an arm and gesturing for him to enter.

“Are you hungry? We were in the middle of eating lunch.”

“Sure,” he says, kicking off his shoes and arranging them against the wall. “Thank you.”

He and your father talk about anything and everything during the meal—boxing, the economy, the basketball game that had aired late last night. You just sit there and eat your food, not wanting to attract any unnecessary attention.

They include you in the conversation for a bit—Artie asks how classes are going, and you tell him that you’re waiting for medical school acceptance (or rejection) letters to start rolling in. Other than that, they don’t bat an eye when you rinse your plate in the sink and politely excuse yourself from the table. You hide behind the fact that you have to work on an assignment that’s due in a week—the paper is worth a third of your grade and it’s crucial that you ace it.

But once you hobble back into your room, you’re crawling into bed and pulling the covers up over your head. You reach around blindly for your phone, snatching it up from where it’s charging on your nightstand. You unlock the device, scrolling through all of the grey messages that pop up right away—sent last night, one after the other, each of them unanswered, growing more and more desperate as the hours pass.

Can we please talk about this?

I’m sorry, please let me explain.

Are you ignoring me?

I know you’re seeing these. Please respond.

And then a final one, dejected and crestfallen, laced with palpable weakness even through the pixels of your screen.

Goodnight.

    April 6, 2021

Harry’s on a losing streak.

A five-match losing streak, to be precise.

He’s never been bested this many times in a row. Your father is baffled by it, unsure of why he’s been so distracted in the ring. It’s even more confusing, he thinks, considering the fact that he’s at the gym every single day, lifting weights, practicing his technique, throwing himself into the sport. But once the actual fights roll around, things change. You’re not there, and you’re his lucky charm, and because of that, he finds himself meeting the ground far more often than he’d like to admit.

Your father said that the end of the semester was approaching—as a consequence, you were buckling down with school. Harry supposes that the timing is right, so the pretext must be true. But his opponents don’t know that (nor would they care). Your absence doesn’t stop them from knocking him down with snarling faces and heavy fists. The crowds holler loudly, goading him to get back up, but Harry doesn’t. He refuses to give them the satisfaction of watching him get beaten to a bloody pulp.

He stopped trying to reach out to you a week after the night of the kiss. He composed several texts a day, but each message had been met with silence. He remembers staring down at his phone one time, watching as three grey dots wiggled on the screen for a minute or two before disappearing entirely.

That’s when he gave up. If you didn’t want to talk, fine.

It hurt like hell, though.

And it’s still hurting like hell, even a week and a half later.

You told your father about James. He had mentioned it in passing to Harry, having to end practice earlier than usual because he had to set a court date to deal with some bastard who wouldn’t leave you alone. And that’s comforting, Harry thinks, because at least he knows that you’ll be safe, now.

He just wishes that he could’ve been the one to bring you that bit of solace.

That’s why, when your father invites him over for dinner one night after a particularly strenuous evening of training, he jumps at the opportunity. You’re making lasagna, your father says, having taken a break from studying for exams. Harry agrees to come over, because it’s been a while since he’s had a real, curated, love-infused, home-cooked meal.

And because you’ll be there, too, obviously. But he refrains from letting that incentive slip loose.

His heart is racing nervously when he parks his truck in front of your house. Memories flood his brain, reminding him of what had happened the last time he’d been here—the glint of your necklace under his fingers, the alluring twinkle in your eyes. The softness of your lips against his, the sensation of your nails carding through his hair—

Your father taps on the window of the driver’s seat.

“H?” he says, muffled through the glass. “You coming?”

“Yeah,” Harry chokes out, unbuckling his seatbelt and sliding out of the vehicle. “Yeah, sorry.”

He follows your father up the porch steps, waiting anxiously as the other man unlocks the front door. It swings open; they both step inside. Harry’s eyes widen when your father calls out, “Gioia? I’m home!”

“Hi!” comes your reply.

He freezes when the sound reaches his ears, because he hasn’t heard your voice—much less seen you—in over two weeks. He shuts the door discreetly, removing his shoes and trailing after your father as he pads down the hall. The closer he draws to the kitchen, the more he can smell it—meat, spices, cheese. His stomach rumbles in anticipation.

“Hope you made enough for three,” your father says, entering the room.

Harry lingers behind you, leaning against the wide threshold with his arms crossed protectively over his chest. He’s still a bit sweaty, but he hopes that the lasagna in the oven will mask the musky scent of the perspiration gleaming on his skin.

“Three?” you ask. You’re standing at the sink, your back to them. “Hi, Jason.”

A beat of silence passes, and then—

“Er, not exactly,” Harry grunts.

You stiffen immediately before spinning around. He doesn’t miss the quiet little gasp that leaves your mouth.

Your gaze locks with his, lips parted in surprise, and he can’t help but wonder if coming here was the smartest or the most foolish decision he’s ever made.

~*~

He and your father set the table.

After a few minutes, three plates and three collections of cutlery are laid out over a pristine white cloth. Harry eases into his chair as you carry over a hot tray of lasagna, your hands sheathed in a pair of red oven mittens. You put the pasta down in front of your father, who is sat at the head of the table. He inhales deeply, a small smile forming on his face.

“Smells amazing, sweetheart,” he tells you, nodding in approval. “Even better than your mother’s.”

“That’s a lie,” you tease, chuckling quietly and removing the crimson gloves from your fingers. You cut a large piece from the platter and deposit it onto his dish. “There you go.”

“Thank you,” he says.

He waits patiently as you separate another chunk of pasta for Harry, setting it down on his plate without a word.

“Thank you,” Harry tells you, his voice hoarse.

“You’re welcome,” you say. The response is short, painfully clipped—it makes him wince.

As soon as everyone has food in front of them, you sit down in your chair, reaching for the fork and the knife resting a few inches away from your dish. Before you can dig in, however, you pause, lifting your chin and squeezing your eyes shut.

“Shit,” you murmur. “Forgot the drinks.”

“There’s juice in the fridge, I think,” your father says through a mouthful of pasta.

“No.” You wave his suggestion away. “How about some wine? I’ll grab a bottle from the cellar.”

“Alright.” He nods, but then speaks again as you stand. “Wait—I think the treadmill in the basement is blocking the door. Harry—,” Harry’s head snaps up, nostrils flaring at the mention of his name, “—would you mind going with her? She won’t be able to move it by herself.”

“Uh,” he says stupidly. “Yeah, sure.”

He quickly excuses himself from the table, glancing over at you to register your reaction. Your expression is stony, betraying nothing. You swallow heavily, looking away and marching quickly out of the kitchen. He follows you without another word, hot on your heels.

The basement is dimly-lit, stocked with a few shelves of non-perishable foods and household supplies. Harry remains silent as you make your way over to the far wall, approaching the dark grey treadmill pressed against the door of the cellar. You place both hands on the side of the machine, giving it a firm push and grunting when it budges only an inch.

“You going to help me, or what?” you ask, casting an expectant glance at Harry from over your arm.

He blinks. “Right.”

Together, the two of you manage to ease the treadmill a few feet to the left. It’s enough space for you to open the door of the wine cellar and slip inside. Darkness envelopes your bodies, dissolving only when a small click! echoes through the still air. A moment later, the alcove is illuminated in a dull glow, compliments of the scrawny yellow bulb hanging from the ceiling.

You release the thin string attached to the light, turning around and gasping when you find Harry perched directly behind you. Your chests brush together—the contact sends sparks whizzing down his spine. You spin back around quickly, clearing your throat and scanning all of the different bottles balanced on the shelves.

“Thanks for your help,” you say dryly. “You can go back upstairs, now.”

“I’m good,” Harry mutters.

He clasps his hands behind his back as you trail your index finger along dozens of cream-coloured labels. Your hair is gathered in a low ponytail; a few shorter, wispier strands peek out from behind your ears. You’re not wearing makeup, today—and why would you, Harry thinks, when you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen?

��So,” he starts, itching to break the silence, “your dad told me that you’re filing a restraining order against James.”

“Yeah,” you reply curtly. He waits for you to continue, but you say nothing else.

“Feel better now that you’ve come clean?” he questions. Immediately, he knows that it’s the wrong thing to ask. But it’s out there, now, and he can’t exactly take it back.

A hollow laugh tumbles off of your tongue. Behind you, Harry notices the way you shake your head in disdain.

“You’re ridiculous,” you say under your breath.

“What was that?” He cocks an eyebrow challengingly, frowning at your tone.

“I said that you’re ridiculous,” you gripe, whipping around and fixing him with a fiery glare. “Need me to repeat it again?”

“If that means you’ll finally be speaking to me, then yeah, go for it,” he snaps, folding his arms over his chest.

“I—,” you break off, surprised by the bite in his rebuttal. Harry clenches his jaw when you turn back around. Your hand quivers as you reach for a random bottle of red wine. “I’m not doing this with you right now.”

“When, then?” he demands, taking a step closer. His front skims along your shoulder blades, and when you face him once more, your eyes widen in shock at the close proximity of your bodies. The little room suddenly feels much smaller, walls looming forward and closing you in. Your chest swells as you suck in a deep breath.

“When are we finally going to fucking talk about this?” Harry presses, meeting your gaze. Desperation drips from every syllable of his query.

You purse your lips, exhaling raggedly.

“Soon.”

A feeble assent.

An insipid shake of your head.

You angle your torso to the side, easily slipping past him and out of the cellar.

“But not today.”

    April 10, 2021

Your nose is buried in a textbook when the message comes through.

Cell biology. So much information to remember, so many reactions to list, so many molecules to name. And weeks of studying, just for a two-hour-long final that’ll take place three days from now. If you weren’t so stressed out, the sheer nonsensicality of the situation would have made you laugh.

So when your phone chimes with the alert, you figure that it’s time for a break. A quick conversation with one of your friends, maybe. Something to take your mind off of the looming exam, even if it is just for a few minutes at a time. After that, you’ll get back to revising.

Sadly, nothing is ever that simple.

We need to talk. Come to the gym.

Your eyes widen when the words sink in. As you rub your clammy palms against the grey material of your sweatpants, another text pops up below the first.

Please.

You shouldn’t. You need to study. But even as you warn yourself against it, your brain is already coming up with a multitude of reasons to meet with him. It’s just one night. Your exam isn’t for another few days. You have time. You deserve to take a break.

Your keys jingle cheerfully as you toss them into your bag.

~*~

Harry is going to town when you walk into the gym.

You’re not quite sure how that poor punching bag has managed to stay balanced on its hook. Harry’s coming at it from every angle, pummeling the leather with hard, heavy fists. He’s wearing a black tank top today; deep armholes cut into the sides of the fabric and expose most of his torso. The dark tattoos on his skin glisten under a thin sheen of sweat; a small, stupid part of you expects the ink to run and smudge before you remember that the designs are permanent.

What’s even worse? Dangerous Woman by Ariana Grande is playing on his phone. The soft, feathery croons of her voice mix with the low grunts that escape Harry’s throat—sounds that claw their way out of him with each blow delivered to the bag. Under normal circumstances, the juxtaposition would have made you snort.

Now though, it just reminds you of that night all those months ago, when you’d asked him to teach you how to box. This entire train wreck could have been avoided if you’d simply kept your mouth shut.

Harry still hasn’t noticed you. How could he, when you’re standing behind him?

You clear your throat. He freezes mid-strike.

His grassy eyes are wide when he turns around.

“Hi,” he says, surprised. “I—I didn’t think you would come.”

“I was halfway here when I realised that I didn’t text you back,” you reply, scratching awkwardly at the nape of your neck. “But, like…no handheld devices behind the wheel, and all that jazz.”

His lips twitch. “Yeah. Good.”

You cross your arms over your chest, scanning your surroundings. You don’t know why you do that—nothing in the gym has changed. You’re just trying to avoid Harry’s gaze, which is a lot easier said than done.

“You, um…you wanted to talk?”

“Yeah.” He nods, walking over to the ring and pausing the music streaming from his phone.

He then reaches for two pairs of boxing gloves, nestling one in the crook of his elbow and tossing the other at you. The strap of your purse slides from your shoulder as you catch the leather in your arms. You peer down at the gloves, eyes narrowing in confusion before you train them back on him.

“I don’t get it,” you deadpan.

“Really?” Harry asks. He hoists himself onto the raised platform of the ring and slips through the gaps in the ropes. “Because you’ve been begging to go up against me since January. Are you seriously gonna back out now?”

“Go up against—” The rest of your sentence fizzles out. “I…I thought you wanted to have a conversation, not a competition.”

He shrugs, regarding you evenly as he pulls his gloves on and tightens the straps around his wrists. He then bumps his enclosed fists together, tilting his head to the side.

“Why can’t we do both?”

~*~

You look pretty, Harry thinks.

Standing on the far side of the ring, wearing a black tank top, grey sweatpants, and bright pink sneakers—yeah, you look pretty. You’ve cuffed your bottoms so that they’re rolled up to the spot just below your knees, and your hair has been pulled back into a low bun. There’s no emotion on your face as you stare him down, taking a few steps closer and assuming a fighting stance.

You’ve gotten better—he’ll be the first to admit it. But he’s going to beat you, and you both know it. It’s just a matter of when.

He decides that, for the time being, he’ll go easy on you. The two of you will talk things out, and afterward, he might let you win. Maybe. He’s still on the fence about that.

You both begin to move in a circle. After a long moment of silence, Harry says, “You go first.”

“No, you,” you grit out. He just shrugs.

Fine. Have it your way.

You block the straight, pointed jab that he throws, and pride swells up in his chest. It’s a simple punch to deflect, but nevertheless, it tells him that you’ve learned something over these past few months. And that means that he’s done a good job as your teacher.

As your friend…not so much.

Do friends kiss other friends the same way you’d kissed him in front of your house?

He really doesn’t know.

“Right, then,” Harry starts, nodding. “Let’s talk.”

“About what?” you ask. Your nose wrinkles in concentration as you direct a blow toward his stomach. He blocks it easily. “About how you kissed me back and then told me you didn’t have feelings for me?”

“I—,” he’s stunned, because okay, you’re coming right on out with it. “I’m sorry.”

He’s sorry for lying, but you don’t seem to realise that.

“I was so fucking embarrassed,” you say, lunging forward and throwing a cross at his nose. He bats your fist away like it’s nothing more than a pesky fly. “But I guess that I’m mad at myself, too. Here I am, starting to like you, meanwhile I barely know anything about you.”

“What do you want to know?” he asks, keeping his arms in front of his face.

(Deep down, beneath his stoic exterior, he can’t believe what he’s hearing. You had been ‘starting to like’ him? He’s scared, then, because that means he ruined everything that night in his truck. Do you still feel the same way?)

Harry blinks—shakes his head free of those thoughts and continues. “Ask me, and I’ll tell you.”

“Really,” you reply, though it isn’t exactly a question.

You drop your hands, taken aback by his offer. He’s not usually this open—you should seize the opportunity to probe while it’s still available. You will, he thinks. Over these past few months, he’s learned how you operate. You’re not predictable, by any means, but he knows that you can’t resist inquiring about his personal life when given the chance.

You want to know him. If he thinks about it for too long, his affections become exceedingly difficult to bear.

“Really,” he says.

He steps forward and curves his right arm in a powerful hook. You yelp jarringly when the rough leather of his glove makes contact with your left shoulder. He just shrugs, pulling back.

“Remember: don’t let your guard down.”

You clench your jaw and raise your fists once more.

“Fine, then,” you say, sidestepping another one of his jabs. “Where were you born?”

“Redditch, England,” he answers simply. “Moved to Holmes Chapel when I was a kid, though.”

You nod. The two of you continue to circle each other.

“Got any siblings?” you ask, charging him and attempting to deliver a series of punches to his torso. He deflects each of them with his forearms, never faltering.

“A sister,” he says, unbothered. “She lives back home.”

“And what about your parents?” you press, retreating and watching him with careful eyes.

He swallows roughly, shaking his head. “Dad left when I was seven. Mum died when I was fourteen.”

At that, you pause. You heed his earlier advice and keep your hands in front of your face, but it’s clear that his confession has caught you by surprise. Your gaze softens, and he watches as your lips curl down into a sympathetic frown.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him quietly, your shoulders slouching. “That’s terrible.”

He shrugs. “It’s in the past—can’t change it, now.”

He takes advantage of your pitying nature, springing toward you and aiming a punch for your hip. You barely manage to avoid the blow, jumping back at the last second. His glove scrapes swiftly against your side. The attack seems to snap you out of your emotions, because you scowl deeply and return to your original stance.

“What happened after that?” you ask, breathing erratically.

“They put me in foster care,” Harry says, shaking his head. “It was shit, though. I ran away after a couple of years. Went off on my own—that’s when I met your dad.”

“And he started training you?”

“And he started training me,” he confirms with a curt nod. “Couldn’t actually fight until I turned eighteen, but after that…I was taking up as many matches as I could.” He chuckles warmly at the memory. “Your dad said that he’d never seen anything like it. Told me I had to slow down.”

You smile a bit at his words. Your fondness quickly melts into shock, however, when Harry aims a hit for your face. You block the punch, retaliating quickly and throwing one of your own. Your fist makes contact with the barrier of his chest, and he stumbles backward, his eyes widening in disbelief. You got him.

Only once, but still.

You got him.

“Not bad,” he grunts, squaring his shoulders. “Maybe I should actually start trying, now.”

You grit your teeth, glowering at him. “God, you’re such a dick.”

He flashes you a contemptuous grin before lunging forward. You dodge two of his punches, but the third one catches you right in the stomach, making you double over and cough. Harry retreats, a mischievous smirk on his face.

“Done getting to know me?” he simpers.

You shake your head, straightening back up. “Not yet.”

You make a valiant effort, Harry thinks. Your dedication is commendable. But he’s had a decade of training, whereas you’ve only had a few months. Your technique—though improved—is still sloppy. And that’s what allows him to sidestep all of your strikes and react quickly, enough so that he’s got you pinned to the ground in just under two minutes.

You’re panting heavily; one of his forearms holds your crossed wrists down over your head. His other hand is planted on the floor just above your shoulder, the flat front of his boxing glove providing a stable surface to keep him balanced. His knees are next to your waist as he hovers over your stomach, giving you no room to worm out of his grip. You flail your legs in frustration, but he’s perched too high up on your body for the action to do any real damage.

“I win,” he says simply, arrogance dancing in his eyes. He leans down so that your noses are only inches apart. “Any more questions, baby?”

“Just one,” you bite, panting heavily.

He cocks an eyebrow, waiting for the inquiry to leave your lips. Once it does, however, it knocks every molecule of air from his lungs.

“Have you…,” you inhale deeply, “…ever been in love?”

The expression on your face tells him that you know exactly what you’re doing. Your chest heaves with exertion, and when his gaze flickers down to your breasts for only a fraction of a second, your eyes illumine with realisation.

“You want me,” you tell him, breathless. A thin, reflective layer of perspiration has gathered at your hairline. Your arms twitch from where they’re pinned beneath his. Despite the gloves still covering your hands, you grasp at his slippery skin, hoping that the contact will somehow make his already-weak resolve crack and crumble into nothing.

“No,” he says, his voice hard.

His green irises burn into your face. Who is he trying to convince?

“You’re lying,” you wheeze, shaking your head. “You want me.”

Your skin is hot. He can feel you radiating warmth like a fireplace. Heated, cozy, welcoming—it’s everything he loves about you, everything he’s been craving since he first became conscious of how badly he desired you. And, to top it all off, you’re looking at him like that—with eyes that could persuade him to jump from a skyscraper, if you so much as asked.

Just like that.

“Fuck,” Harry spits. He pulls back sharply and stamps his own eyes shut. His nose screws up in frustration. “Fuck.”

And then he’s kissing you.

The elated moan that slips from your lips has his cock twitching fitfully in his shorts. You arch your back to get closer to him, because with his hand still pinning you down, it’s not like you can throw your arms around his neck and bring him to you. The kiss is messy and frenzied and hot and carnal. Harry licks into your mouth, savouring the squeak that echoes in your throat.

You’re vocal—he’s going to fucking die.

When the two of you pull back, no words are exchanged. Harry stares down at you, taking note of how your pupils have dilated immensely. Your chest is still heaving, but this time, it’s for a completely different reason. He releases your wrists from where they’re pinned beneath his forearm, watching you carefully as he sits up.

He lifts his fist to his face and takes the strap of the glove between his teeth. The sharp riiip! that ensues may as well be a starter gunshot.

You both dive back into a sea of teeth and lips and tongue. Harry throws off his gloves easily. You struggle with yours, but he wastes no time, helping you discard them in a matter of seconds. With your hands finally free, you bury them in his hair, pulling at the soft, damp tendrils as he presses several hard kisses to your mouth.

“Fuck,” he mutters, slanting his body downward so that his crotch is level with yours. “You—you have no idea—”

The rest of his sentence fades into a groan when you suck harshly on his jaw. He shudders at the sensation.

Gradually, you bring your legs out from beneath his own, lifting your knees up to your chest and then wrapping your thighs around his waist. It’s an impressive feat, if he’s being honest. And it gives him more room to lean over you, to grind his cock against your centre through the layers of fabric separating your skin.

“Off—,” you choke, tugging at the bottom of his black shirt. “Get this off!”

He complies, sitting back up on his knees and ridding himself of the fabric. You take advantage of his instability, wrapping one hand around his bicep and giving it a hard shove. He topples to the side and you scramble up to straddle him, a small, smug smile ghosting across your face.

“What are you—?” he starts, but you place one finger against his lips, cutting him off.

You start to roll your hips gently into his—he groans, wishing more than anything that there were no clothes in the way. Goosebumps erupt on his arms when you lightly scrape your nails down his bare chest. You settle at the butterfly inked into his abdomen, tracing the insect’s wings with a wondrous look in your eyes. His palms sweep up your thighs.

“Why did you lie to me?” you murmur, keeping your gaze trained on his torso. “You feel the same, don’t you?”

He nods wordlessly.

“Why, then?” you press, frowning gently. “I—we could’ve avoided this whole thing if you’d just told me the truth.”

“Your dad,” Harry says weakly. “I can’t—you’re his—”

“My dad has no control over who I date or who I fuck,” you say. He’s stunned by the crudeness of your claim. “And if I want to fuck you right here, right now, then that’s what I’m going to do.”

“You—Christ,” he swallows heavily, squeezing his eyes shut. “You can’t just say shit like that.”

“Why not?” you smirk, grinding against him harshly and feeling the stiff outline of his cock in his shorts. “You seem to be enjoying it.”

“Fuck,” he grunts. You shriek when he flips the two of you over so that he’s back on top. His nose brushes against yours as he speaks.

“If we do this,” he warns, hot breath fanning out over your chin, “I won’t be gentle. In every single one of my fantasies, I’ve ruined you—made you drool, made you cry. You name it, I’ve done it. You sure you can handle that?”

“Yes,” you breathe, utterly enthralled. “I’m sure.”

Harry tucks a loose piece of your hair behind your ear, peering down at you tenderly.

“Look so pretty,” he coos, fingers skimming down the side of your throat. “Can’t wait to wreck your cute, little—” He sucks in a deep breath, weakened by the shamelessness of his own thoughts. “Gonna make sure your knees knock together once I’m through with you.”

And maybe it’s not smart to get you naked in the middle of the gym, where anyone walking by could easily peer inside and witness him fucking you into oblivion. But he can’t find it in himself to care—he’s been waiting for this moment for years, and damn him if he doesn’t seize it while you’re like this: open, inviting, presented to him like gourmet food on a silver platter.

And speaking of food…

“I’m gonna stretch you out,” Harry states. “You’ve got to cum first if you wanna take my cock, understand?”

You nod rapidly.

He shakes his head. “Need to hear you say it, baby. You want it, too, right?”

“I want it,” you confirm, breathless. “I want it, I understand.”

He smiles. His fingers ruck up the material of your tank top, and you lift your back from the ground to help him remove it. Your bra is next, pale pink with a simple bow resting between the cups. He swears when you unclip it quickly, letting the straps fall down your shoulders before tossing it away.

“Christ,” he says, blinking. “Can’t believe you’re real.”

He lays you back down onto the floor of the ring, ducking his head and enveloping one of your nipples in his mouth. You moan. The bud hardens between his teeth, sensitive to his touch. He sucks harshly before pulling off, littering kisses along the skin of your breasts. His head swims with lust, transforming him into someone nearly unrecognizable. You seem to like it, though, so how bad could it really be?

“Next time,” Harry murmurs into your flesh, “I’m gonna get a proper taste. Eat you out ’til you go blind. But for now—,” he dips his hand past the waistband of your sweatpants, “—my fingers will just have to do.”

You shimmy your bottoms down, kicking them off unceremoniously and spreading your legs. And fuck, he nearly loses it right there, because this is what he’s been picturing for months, if not years. Having you laid out in front of him, exposed and ready and willing. Your thighs stretched wide, miles of soft skin leading inward and morphing into sticky, wet folds. He closes his eyes for a brief moment and inhales deeply—the scent of your arousal floods his nose, rendering him utterly helpless. Something akin to a man unhinged.

He rubs you over your panties, first. They’re nothing special—simple black cotton covering your mound and your hipbones. But fuck him, he wasn’t expecting the ocean of excitement that seems to have pooled and soaked through the fabric. His fingertips are damp when he pulls them away.

“You’re drenched,” he groans, shaking his head in disbelief. He hooks one digit into the elastic of your underwear, looking up at you with inquisitive eyes. “Can I take these off?”

“Yes, please.”

He tears the material down your legs, and then you’re naked beneath him, save for the rose-gold pendant resting on your sternum. He sits back on his heels as you spread your thighs wider, chewing on the inside of your cheek. His index finger taps the skin just below your navel, tracing a path down to where you need him most. You whine when he bypasses your clit completely, dropping instead to gather some of your wetness before trailing back up. He smears your arousal over the nub—just to get a steady, slippery rhythm going—and then leans down, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Don’t wanna be too far,” he says sheepishly, sweetly kissing the tip of your nose. “Missed you.”

You seal your lips to his.

He makes you cum after a few minutes, slipping one finger into your channel, and then another. The entire time, his thumb stays perched on your clit, drawing expert circles and pulling wanton moans from your mouth. And when you cum—oh.

Oh.

You’re glorious, with lidded eyes and warm cheeks and teeth bared in pleasure. You ride out your high, spasming gently. Harry lays a firm hand on your stomach, feeling the muscles of your abdomen twitch beneath his palm. He continues to stimulate your clit, basking in the little aftershocks that zip up your spine and make your legs tremble.

If you were aroused before…good fucking God. He didn’t know it was possible for a woman to be this wet.

You kiss him as you come down from your orgasm, nipping softly at his bottom lip and sighing in relief. Both of his hands find your face—you seem unbothered by the fact that his fingers are coated in your juices, smearing messily against your cheek. He melts into you like he’s dying of thirst and you’re an oasis, lush and green and good. So, so good.

“Do you—,” he exhales raggedly, “—do you still want to?”

You nod, a soft smile forming on your face. It’s crazy, Harry thinks, how quickly you can oscillate between actual human sunshine and the devil personified. One minute, you’re asking him to fuck you, and the next, you’re giving him those eyes that make him feel as though every cell in his body has been liquefied.

“What were you saying about not being gentle?” you tease.

He chuckles quietly, shaking his head. You gasp when he hooks a finger into the chain around your neck. He takes your pretty pink pendant between two fingers, lifting it up and dragging the cool metal along the seam of your lips. You inhale sharply.

“I don’t have a condom,” he murmurs, sighing mournfully.

“I have an IUD,” you whisper, playing with the curls at the back of his head. “We’re good.”

He groans, dropping his face into the column of your throat. “You’re fuckin’ marvelous.”

You giggle.

He shudders when you begin to push his shorts down. You look up at him with raised brows when his cock slaps against his stomach, completely unrestrained.

“No underwear?”

“Always sticks to my balls when I get sweaty,” he whines, squeezing his eyes shut. “Need to let the boys breathe.”

A loud laugh flops out of your mouth. Harry snickers, too, trailing his nose up over your jawline so that he can catch your lips in a quick kiss. He moans as you wrap your fingers around his length, giving a few experimental pumps. Instinctively, his hips buck into your grip.

“You’re big,” you murmur. “Are you sure that it’s going to fit?”

“It’ll fit,” he promises.

He guides your legs up so that they’re wrapped around his waist, allowing him to slot himself closer to you. You gasp when his hand finds your cunt again, dipping two fingers inside before sweeping his palm over the length of your folds. He then smears your wetness along the shaft of his cock, makeshift lubrication to facilitate the first breach of your channel.

“You ready?” he says, positioning the tip of his dick at your entrance. “Deep breath for me, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You inhale, and he nudges his hips forward. You gasp as he slips into you, inch by thick inch, stretching you out in a way that you’ve never felt before. Harry reaches for your hands, tangling your fingers together and lifting them above your head. You arch your back with the new position, and he’s unsure of whether you’re trying to wiggle away or bring him in closer.

When the heels of your feet press against his ass, guiding him deeper, he assumes that it’s the latter.

“Fuck,” he stammers as your tight heat surrounds his cock. “How—how do you feel this good?”

A wheezing laugh punches its way out of your throat.

“Feel that,” Harry says hoarsely. “So fuckin’ hot and—and wet. Not gonna take any time at all, is it?”

“For me, or for you?” you taunt. He grumbles quietly, and you snicker.

After a brief moment of silence, you squeeze his knuckles reassuringly. “You can move.”

“Thank you,” he moans, capturing your mouth with his. Your breathing hitches as he pulls out before slowly sliding back in. When you sigh in response, he takes it as encouragement to pick up the pace.

Soon, he’s fucking into you quickly, your skin slapping together in a series of brutal thrusts. With each drive of his hips into yours, soft whimpers escape your lips, floating up into the hot air and melting like ice cream under the sun. Harry growls, sinking his teeth into the junction between your neck and your shoulder. The pain makes you writhe—in a good way.

“You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined this,” he grunts, laving his tongue over the indents on your skin. Your necklaces clink together—silver and rose-gold tangled in a mess of thin, delicate chains. “My—my hand could never—”

“Neither could mine,” you tell him, breathless.

His spine stiffens at your words, brain overcome with the thought of you lying in bed, your fingers buried between your legs and low whines pouring from your mouth. He groans; his next thrust is hard, keen, unforgiving.

He keeps you close, your bodies never separating. Your skin is slick with sweat, chests gliding together. Adrenaline rushes through Harry’s veins—he drives ahead, plunging inside of you with each fierce snap of his hips. You can’t do anything but lie there and take it, take it, take it.

“I want you,” he gasps, warm air washing out onto your collarbones. His hands are clammy, still locked with yours; he wouldn’t have it any other way. “I want you, I want you, I—” He gulps. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“Harry,” you murmur, grazing your nose against his temple. “Harry, look at me.”

Reluctantly, he pulls his face away from your throat. Your eyes are soft when they land on his, forehead shining with sweat, lips swollen and raw. The bun holding most of your hair back has come loose (Harry is certain that it’s due to the way your bodies shift along the ground with every thrust.)

You swallow roughly and shake your head, staring past his features and searching for something deeper.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say, nearly crushing his fingers in your grip. “I’m here.”

Your walls pulsate around him, and his rhythm falters. He swears softly, releasing one of your hands so that he can bring his thumb down to rub haphazard shapes against your clit. You moan, surprised.

“Cum for me,” he orders, nodding rapidly. “Cum for me, and then I’ll do the same. Where do you want it, hm? Tell me.”

“Inside,” you pant, your nose screwing up in pleasure. “Cum inside me.”

“Shit, you’re serious?” he asks, awestruck. His stomach twists hotly at your invitation. “Want me to claim your pretty cunt? Is that it?”

“God,” you say. You squirm beneath him, nodding frantically. “Please!”

“Fuck!” he cries, and when you clamp down on his cock, he’s gone.

The two of you ride out your highs together, quivering and grunting in unison. Harry wraps his arms around your waist, holding you close to his chest. You dig your nails into his back, clinging to him like a piece of wood drifting through the stormy sea. Colourful spots dance in his vision—he tries his best to blink them away. Your thighs tremble around his hips, caught in an endless cycle of vibrations.

“Holy shit,” you whimper, exhaling shakily. “That was…”

Harry braces himself over your face, keeping you shielded from everything outside of your little bubble.

“Yeah,” he agrees.

A low laugh falls from your lips, but it quickly morphs into a moan when he pulls out of you. He pauses for a moment, watching as white liquid trickles from your abused entrance. The erotic sight nearly has him ready to go again.

“Fuck,” he mutters. He scoops his release up with two fingers and plugs them back inside of you. “That’s hot.”

You gasp at the slight overstimulation, wrapping a hand around his wrist reflexively. He just shoots you a wicked grin, which has you giggling girlishly in response.

“I want a kiss,” you say, craning your neck.

Harry hums, crawling up your body to fulfill your request. You smile against his lips, tossing your arms over his shoulders. The two of you exchange soft pecks for the next few minutes, basking in the aftereffects of your orgasms. Warmth unfurls in Harry’s chest, potent and contagious. It spreads through his veins, dousing his senses in a golden glow.

“You’re fucking incredible,” he tells you, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. “And I like you. So much.”

“I like you, too,” you reply, tracing your fingertips over the muscles in his back. “But if you ever lie to me again—” Your expression grows serious. “—let’s just say that you won’t have to worry anymore about your boxers sticking to your balls, okay?”

It’s an earnest threat—he knows that you mean every word—but nevertheless, it makes him laugh. You giggle along with him; he rolls off of you, his spine meeting the floor of the ring, and you cuddle into his side. Your nails tap languidly against his sternum as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. The two of you lie there for a few long moments, enjoying the peaceful silence.

“They’re taking my case against James to trial,” you say at last.

Harry stiffens, lifting his head so that he can look down at you properly.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” he asks.

“Yeah.” You nod, refusing to meet his gaze. “But, um…my lawyer said that it might be a good idea to bring a witness to the stand. Just to seal the deal and stuff.”

You peek up at him shyly, and it clicks.

“Oh,” he says softly. “You want me?”

“Only if you’re comfortable with it,” you say hurriedly, resting your chin on his chest. “Please don’t think that I’m forcing you—”

“Hey, no,” he cuts you off, sweeping his fingers through your hair. The action soothes you, makes your eyelids flutter shut and your lips tremble with a nervous exhale. “’Course I’ll testify. I don’t want that piece of shit coming anywhere near you.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, pressing your mouth to his skin. You litter a few grateful kisses along his pectorals, and he smiles. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Don’t have to keep saying that,” Harry mumbles, chuckling tenderly. He takes your face between his hands, thumbs trailing idly over your temples. “I wanna keep you safe. Or—or make you feel safe, at least.”

Your eyes glisten.

“I do feel safe around you,” you say. Your lips twitch. “Except for when you’re trying to punch me in the gut.”

He snickers, shaking his head. “If you want to start tussling with me more often, you’re gonna have to get used to that.”

“Duly noted.” You smirk.

Harry sighs, letting his head fall back against the ground.

“Speaking of keeping you safe…,” he mutters, staring up at the ceiling. His fingers resume their previous ministrations, stroking languidly through your hair. “You should go pee, yeah? Heard it’s important for girls to do that after sex.”

You laugh, surprised by his words. “How—how do you know that?”

“Sister,” he reminds you. His cheeks dimple as he grins.

You nod, mouth curling into a fond smile. “Right.”

    April 26, 2021

The crowd is deafening, encasing him in a cloud of noise. He refuses to let it distract him, zeroing in on his opponent with the intensity of a thousand suns. An experimental jab comes his way, gauging the distance between them, but Harry sidesteps it easily. He retaliates with a right hook, catching the side of the man’s head. It’s not a powerful blow, but it succeeds in disorienting him for a few milliseconds.

He charges forward, then, sensing an opportunity and seizing it before it can fade away. In a flurry of fists (and the odd kick here and there), he backs his opponent up until the ropes around the ring are digging into the man’s waist. He’s ruthless, giving him no chance to react, delivering blow after blow until his rival can barely stand on his own two feet. At that point, he retreats, stepping back and letting his victory come to him.

He needs this win. He needs this win. He needs this—

His challenger falls into the trap, stumbling forward with double vision and throwing a sloppy hook. Harry bats his hand away effortlessly, lunging forward and curving his arm up. Pride flares in his chest when his fist makes contact with his opponent’s jaw, making the man’s head snap back on his neck. He drops to the floor in an unconscious, muscular heap.

The seconds pass by like molasses, but at last, the referee is climbing into the ring and lifting Harry’s hand high above his head. The crowd roars. He closes his eyes for a moment, basking in the praise. When they flutter open again, they’re trailing upward, searching for one particular face in a sea of strangers.

And there you are.

You’re beaming, clapping frantically and pausing every so often to cup your hands around your mouth and amplify your cheers. Harry smiles, tilting his chin upward and letting his head fall back in relief. He doesn’t tear his gaze away from you, even as the referee releases his wrist and crouches to rouse his opponent from the ground.

He hears someone call his name and turns to the side. He finds your father peeking at him through the ropes circling the ring, a wide grin on his face. He beckons him over, a water bottle clutched tightly in his outstretched hand. Harry complies, breathing out a heavy sigh.

Meanwhile, you’re pushing through the throng of people that have now started moving toward the exit. Going against the current is difficult—you murmur quick apologies as you nudge past countless shoulders and elbows—but finally, you emerge from the crowd, unscathed. You see Harry chatting with a few people approximately thirty feet away, but before you can take another step, a big, burly security guard blocks your path.

“No spectators beyond this point,” he tells you gruffly.

“But, I—,” your mouth opens and closes, though no words come out. Instinctively, you point over the guard’s shoulder, your finger pinned on a very sweaty, very shirtless Harry. “That’s my boyfriend.”

You only have a moment to feel shocked by your claim. Boyfriend?

It’s been weeks since that night at the gym, and yeah, you suppose that the two of you are a thing, now. You’re going out. You’re exclusive. Whatever the hell you want to call it.

But you’ve never referred to him as your boyfriend, and he’s never referred to you as his girlfriend. You haven’t talked about potentially putting a label on your relationship, despite the fact that you’re both clearly interested in seeing each other and no one else.

Is it time to have that conversation?

Harry jumps in surprise when he hears you call his name. He turns toward the sound and then grunts when you barrel into him a moment later, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. One of his hands reflexively falls to your bottom before quickly moving away. The feeling of his calloused palm on your ass sends a shiver down your spine.

You bury your face in his shoulder. He’s sweating all over, skin wet and muscles bulging from exertion. You know that you’ve caught him off-guard, because he whispers your name incredulously into your ear and presses a gentle kiss to your jaw. When he finally sets you down, you peer up at him with bright eyes and a large grin.

“That was incredible,” you gush, your hands falling to his biceps. “You obliterated him!”

“Thanks,” he chuckles. His cheeks are pink—you don’t think it’s because of the match.

In the periphery of your vision, you catch sight of your father. He’s standing there with raised brows and parted lips, and you suddenly remember that he hasn’t yet been made aware of your…situation. You gasp, stepping away from Harry quickly and draping your arms around your own torso. He seems to recognize your blunder as well, because his shoulders tense and his eyes nearly pop out of his head.

The two of you speak at the same time.

“Coach—”

“Dad—”

“I don’t want to know,” your father announces, holding up one hand and cutting you both off swiftly. His eyes bounce back and forth between you, features betraying no emotion whatsoever. Finally, his shoulders slump.

“I’m gonna call it a night, gioia,” he tells you. He then looks to the left, directing his next words at Harry. “Congratulations on your win, H. Have her home by midnight.”

“Dad, I’m a grown woman—,” you begin to scoff, but he gives you a pointed glare.

“Midnight,” he repeats.

You shrink away and nod.

~*~

Before leaving, Harry decides to take a quick shower in the men’s locker room. You sit on one of the benches, tapping your foot against the tiles as you watch him get undressed. It doesn’t take him long—he’s only wearing a pair of shorts, after all—but you savour every moment, your eyes raking over his muscular back as he bends down to pick his bottoms up off of the ground. He tosses the fabric into his drawstring bag before peering over his shoulder at you.

“Sure you don’t wanna join me?” he asks, a coy smirk playing on his lips when he catches you staring.

You look away quickly, picking at your nails and feigning indifference. “Where anyone could walk in? I’m good.”

He shrugs, snickering quietly. “Suit yourself.”

You ogle his plump ass as he walks away.

A moment later, one of the showers turns on. You can hear Harry humming softly as he steps under the spray. You sigh, leaning back against the wall and fishing your phone out from your pocket. For the next few minutes, you scroll distractedly through social media, bored out of your mind.

You grunt softly and set your phone down, tiptoeing over to the door of the locker room and fastening it shut. The lock above the handle slides into place with a low click!

“Fuck it,” you mutter.

You flick open the button of your jeans, shoving the material down your thighs. Eventually, you’re naked, goosebumps pebbling on your arms. You set your clothes back down onto the bench and grab a spare towel, fiddling with the necklace hanging from your throat. A thought occurs to you; you unclasp the chain, pulling it off and letting it pool in the palm of your hand.

Harry’s idle singing grows louder as you approach the row of showers. It’s not hard to find his cubicle—it’s the only one with the curtain drawn over the entrance. You pad toward it, hanging your towel next to his and calling out, “Harry?”

“Yeah?” His hums stop.

You grasp the fabric of the curtain, pulling it back and peering inside. Immediately, Harry’s gaze locks with yours. He’s completely bare, standing beneath the water with hooded eyes and shampoo foaming in his hair. You slip into the cubicle, not missing the way he gawks at your naked body.

“I changed my mind,” you murmur, peering up at him shyly.

He presses his lips together to fight back a smile. “Yeah. You sure did.”

“Shut up and let me rinse your hair.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Before you can bury your hands into the wet strands, however, you remember the jewellery clutched between your fingers.

“Actually—,” you say, hesitating. “I, um—I wanted to give this to you.”

You scoop the necklace up from your palm, holding it out nervously. Harry recognizes it immediately, and his eyes widen in surprise.

“What for?” he asks, not unkindly.

“It’s my lucky charm,” you tell him, shrugging your shoulders. “I just figured…maybe it’ll work for you, too.”

He kisses you, then, grabbing your face in his hands and crushing his lips to yours. You whimper into his mouth, finding his wrists and encasing them in a tight grip. The kiss is passionate, bruising, fiery—you’ve never felt so wanted.

Harry pulls back once the two of you run out of air. Even then, he keeps his forehead pressed snugly against yours, staying close. He’s breathing heavily, and you’re starting to sweat, the humidity of the stall seeping into every last pore on your body. Harry shakes his head, gazing into your eyes.

“You’re my lucky charm,” he says.

Your heartbeat stutters in your chest.

“But,” he continues, smiling softly, “I’ll take the necklace. It’ll be good to have for when you’re not there.”

You nod wordlessly, and he steps back. His hands find his throat, fumbling with the chain dangling over his collarbones. He reaches over his shoulders, unclasping his own necklace and presenting it to you.

“Here,” he says. “I’ll take yours, and you take mine.”

You nod again.

You turn around slowly, electricity thrumming through your body as Harry guides the silver chain around your neck. The shiny cross pendant rests against your sternum; the warmth of the metal seeps into your skin. When you face him again, Harry whistles lowly, his lips twitching.

“Looks good on you,” he says, nodding proudly. “My girl.”

“Is that what I am?” you ask, peeking up at him through your lashes. “Your girl?”

He pauses. He really does look ridiculous with the white, frothing shampoo slicked through his hair.

“Is that what you want to be?”

A moment of silence ensues.

“Yeah,” you finally say, biting your bottom lip. “It is.”

Harry smiles. He leans forward and kisses you again, softer this time. You nudge his shoulder with the hand that’s still holding your necklace, prompting him to spin around.

“Come on,” you murmur, delivering one last affectionate peck to his mouth. “Your turn.”

~*~

Harry pulls up to your house fifteen minutes before midnight. You unbuckle your seatbelt, modifying your position in the front seat so that you can look at him properly. Your hair is still slightly damp from your shared shower, and your skin is fresh and clean. You smell like him—like the body wash you had both used to scrub yourselves down in the small cubicle. A silver necklace—his necklace—peeks out from beneath the collar of your denim jacket.

The jewellery suits you. He doesn’t ever want you to take it off.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment until you eventually crack a smile.

“You look like you want to eat me,” you say, laughing.

“C’mere, then,” he chuckles, already leaning forward. “Lemme have a taste.”

“Gross.” You stick your tongue out playfully but obey him nonetheless, your lips meeting over the middle console of the vehicle. Harry cups your face in one hand, keeping you close. You sigh into his mouth, and he swallows the sound down—it’s the prettiest fucking thing he’s ever heard.

You carry on like that for the next few minutes, exchanging soft kisses that don’t go beyond him placing a calloused palm on your thigh. When you finally pull away, a breathless giggle bubbles up in your throat.

“Have I ever told you that you’re a great kisser?” you ask.

“Only a dozen times a day,” he replies, smirking gently.

You laugh, carding your fingers through his hair and tilting your head to the side as you stare at him. Your eyes are far away, getting lost in your own thoughts, it seems.

“What is it?” he whispers, even though there’s no one else in the car aside from you and him.

“I love you,” you murmur absentmindedly.

Harry freezes; your confession knocks the air from his lungs.

“What?” he says, his brows knitting together.

At last, you snap out of your trance. Your admission sinks in, and you recoil, shocked at your own boldness.

“I—,” you start, your eyes growing impossibly wide. “I just meant—we’ve known each other for years, now, but I feel like I really got to know you these past few months. These past few weeks, especially.”

You shrug, playing nervously with the silver cross hanging around your neck. Harry’s heart somersaults at the sight.

“I’m sorry if it’s bad timing,” you continue; you’re rambling, now. “And I understand that it might be weird considering the fact that we just put a label on this, but—,” you break off, taking a deep breath, “—I love you. I do.”

He reaches out, trailing his fingers over the faint curve of your jaw. You gasp softly when his thumb ghosts over your bottom lip.

“Did you just apologise for telling me that you love me?” he says. Crinkles appear at the corners of his eyes.

You squeeze your own eyes shut, cringing at his words and shaking your head.

“Don’t repeat it,” you plead. “I’m already embarrassed enough.”

“Oh, so loving me is embarrassing?” he asks, smirking slyly.

You frown, batting his hand away and shifting your body so that you’re no longer facing him. You place your elbow against the ledge of the passenger door, resting your chin on your fist and staring pointedly out the window.

“Hey,” Harry coos, though he can’t stop the inkling of laughter that seeps into his voice. “Don’t be like that.”

“I take it back,” you say flatly, refusing to turn around. “I hate you, actually.”

“Really,” he says, but it’s not a question. He unbuckles his own seatbelt so that he can lean over the middle console and nuzzle at your cheek.

“My girlfriend hates me?” he asks; he knows that he’s being insufferable, but he can’t help it. Messing with you is so much fun.

“Yes.” Your response is curt. “She does.”

“That’s not nice,” he says, curling his lips down into a dramatic pout. He presses a gentle kiss to the side of your neck—right against a particular spot that makes you melt every single time. He knows it, and so do you.

“That’s not nice at all,” Harry continues, littering sloppy pecks down the column of your throat. “This how you treat the man who loves you?”

You pause when his words register in your brain.

“Stop lying,” you mutter, keeping your gaze glued to the scenery outside your window.

“’M not lying,” he tells you, squeezing your thigh gently. “Said you’d cut my balls off if I did it again, remember?”

And despite your initial sense of humiliation, you laugh. Harry smiles, placing his free hand on your cheek and guiding you to look over at him. You submit to his wishes, gazing at him through pretty, wispy lashes. He tilts forward ever-so-slightly, nudging your noses together and fastening his lips to yours. When he pulls back after a moment, he pinches your chin between two fingers.

“I love you,” he says earnestly.

“I love you, too,” you whisper.

Your eyelids flutter shut as he slides his palm up your leg; he stops only once it’s resting in the crease between your hip and your thigh, dangerously close to your groin.

“We have—,” he cranes his neck, peering over at the digital clock on the truck’s dashboard, “—five minutes until you have to be inside. Think I can make you cum between now and then?”

You scoff, pushing him away and laughing at his crudeness.

“You’re insane,” you giggle, shooting him a faux-stern glare. “Behave.”

“Fine,” he grumbles, frowning childishly. You just grin, slipping your hand around his neck and pulling him in for a doting kiss. You press a series of rapid pecks along the seam of his mouth, nipping playfully at his bottom lip before retreating. Instinctively, he follows you, but you dig your fingers into his shoulder, stopping him before he can get too far.

“Goodnight,” you whisper, reaching for the handle on the door.

Harry watches with wide, awestruck eyes as you exit the car. You clutch your purse closer to your side, looking back at him expectantly and waiting for his response.

He clears his throat, blinking out of his reverie.

“Yeah,” he nods, nostrils flaring slightly. “Goodnight.”

He peels away from your house only once you disappear through the front door. Subconsciously, his hand finds the rose-gold chain hanging around his throat. He fiddles with the necklace, running his thumb over the smooth surface of your shiny pendant. There’s something unreal—almost dreamlike—about having it between his fingers. He’s spent so long watching you fumble and toy with it—watching it bring you comfort when you’re nervous, or bored, or afraid.

Now, it’s his.

And so are you.

Faint music plays from the truck’s stereo; Harry reaches forward, twisting a knob and turning the volume up to its full capacity. Ariana Grande’s familiar vocal riffs pour through the speakers.

He sings along at the top of his lungs, hollering triumphantly the entire ride home.

~*~

Extra: Knockout [READ IT NOW ON PATREON]

if you enjoyed this series, please consider donating to my ko-fi! thank you bunches <3

[kalimagik]

Strawberry

Fred Weasley x Pregnant!Reader

Word Count: 5k

Requested by @coffee-wihtout-caffeine​ - “Can I request Fred x reader where it’s throughout her pregnancy with supportive Weasley family? Like the entire pregnancy just bits through each month and dealing with the symptoms. Tia”

A/N: I had SO much fun writing this. I was so excited the whole time (i love babies and think pregnancy is beautiful, so I may have gotten carried away). It’s super fluffy, has something for each month, and a whole lot of cute Fred and a supportive Weasley family! It’s not my usual writing style, but still so fun. Feedback is always welcome! Comment, like, reblog! Happy Reading <3 (also, I got too excited to wait til tonight to post it, so its coming early)

Month 1

It had to be the stomach flu, what else could it be? Fred left you in bed that morning after you spent most of the night with your head over the toilet. You racked your mind, trying to figure out where you would have caught the stomach flu. That’s when it hit you. Running to the nearest convenience store, you bought the tests, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

You looked at the pregnancy test again and the other 3 that sat on the vanity, all positive. No, you and Fred weren’t trying for a baby, but you weren’t not trying either. A baby…you were going to have a baby, Fred’s baby.

The butterflies in your stomach were going to have a roommate. The thought made your lips curl into a grin as you looked into the mirror. A baby! Now you just had to tell Fred. Knowing you had a few hours, you rushed around the house like a mad woman. The rest of the day consisted of picking up, making dinner, and making yourself look presentable and not like you had spent most of the day in bed. The day also included throwing up every now and then, but you were actually kind of excited each time because it was just a reminder of the little boy or girl growing in your stomach.

When Fred walked through the door, you had your favorite “Love Songs” playlist playing, the dinner table set, and candles lit throughout the entire flat. “Is someone feeling better?” Fred called out above the music.

“Freddie! I’m in here,” you sang, still cleaning up pots and pans from dinner.

“What is all of this?” Fred asked, eyes widening at the sight laid out in front of him. “Did I forget an anniversary or something?” he chuckled, knowing very well that he didn’t. “This is wonderful, love. But, what did I do to deserve this?”

“Just sit down and you’ll find out!” You beamed, bringing Fred’s favorite food to the table, his mother’s meatballs with onion sauce with a treacle tart and cream puffs on the side for dessert.

“24 hour stomach flu pass?”

“Uhhh, for the most part,” you skirted around the subject a bit. You had a plan to tell him about the baby.

Dinner went by with your usual conversations about the day, the shop, and how George and the rest of the Weasleys were doing. When tart had been dished out, you stood up from your seat and went behind the couch to get your little gift.

“Okay, what is going on?” Fred asked, now confused as to why he got his favorite dinner, dessert, and now a present. “Did you do something I should be angry about? Did someone else do something that I should be taking credit for?”

“No, silly,” you giggle, sitting the present in front of him. “Just open this!” You watch him intently while standing as he takes the tissue paper out of the bag and unwraps the first little gift. The white tissue paper fell to the floor as he unfolded a little white onesie that read “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

“What’s this for? I’m not going to be an uncle or something am I? Is George around here trying to punk me?”

You just shook your head, an amused, close lipped smile set on your face. “Open the next one.”

Fred stuck his hand back into the small, blue bag and pulled out the long box that had probably once held a bracelet. When he pulled the lid off, there was the 4th and final positive pregnancy test that you had taken earlier in the day. Fred looked up at you, eyes wide. The hand not holding the box with the test reached for the onesie as he put two and two together.

“Are you- Is this? Does this mean-” You just nodded as he stumbled over his words.

“I’m pregnant,” you told him with a laugh/cry. Honestly, you weren’t sure what the noise was, but it was a happy one. Fred flew out of his seat so quickly to embrace you that his chair fell to the floor with a loud clatter.

“You’re pregnant?” he asked again once he finally let you go and stopped kissing your face. You could only nod as the happy tears streamed down your face. “Oh, I guess I shouldn’t hug you so hard. Wouldn’t want to hurt the little lad or gal would I?”

“I think the little Weasley will be okay,” you smirk, hugging Fred a little tighter.

“So when can I tell George?”

You laugh as you kiss Fred’s cheek. “Not just yet, darling. Let’s see a doctor first”

Month 2

“So I can tell Georgie right after this right?” Fred asked as you sat in a room at St. Mungo’s waiting for the doctor.

“I enjoy you pretending to wait for my permission when I know you already told him,” you laugh, squeezing Fred’s hand while he helps you onto the chair for the mothers to be. “He was not very subtle when I came by the shop the other day. He was talking about inventing baby friendly products for the shop.” You rolled your eyes sarcastically at the memory.

“Okay, I may have apparated to our little flat above the shop where he was at the time after you fell asleep the night that you told me.” He pouted, looking for forgiveness from you.

You had to stifle your giggles when the doctor knocked on the door to let you know that she was entering.

“Good afternoon Y/N,” she smiled at you as she pulled out the contraption for looking at the baby’s growing form. “I see you have Fred Weasley with you again.”

The last appointment, he may or may not have dropped a dung bomb that made its way into his jacket pocket accidentally on their way out.

“Hello there, Dr. Woodson,” Fred grimaced. “Good to see you again. Don’t worry, I double checked my pockets before coming this time.”

“Very good,” your doctor nodded curtly. “Well then, let’s get started, shall we?”

Your doctor talked you through the images that you and Fred saw on the screen. “Your baby is now about the size of a pomegranate seed since you’re in the 6th week,” she finished. You sat and watched in awe. The baby was so much bigger than just a few weeks ago when you were in for the first visit that confirmed your pregnancy. “Do you have any questions for me?” Dr. Woodson asked at the end of the appointment.

You shook your head, already having read all about it in the pregnancy books you had bought a few weeks earlier. Fred was the one to pipe up. “So, my brother’s wife was pregnant a year ago or so, and she got really, really cranky. Is my wife going to do that too?”

“Fred?!” you scoffed, playfully slapping him in the arm.

“You see, it’s already starting a little bit and I was just wondering how bad it will actually get.” He continued ignoring you.

Your doctor chuckled slightly before she stood up with your charts in hand. “It was good to see you both again. Y/N, you can schedule your next appointment at the front desk on your way out. Send me an owl if you have any questions or concerns.”

After saying goodbye, Fred helped you off the chair, even though he didn’t have to, and you dressed back into your clothes that were not yet maternity wear, but starting to get a little snug in some areas.

“All ready, love?” he asked after you dressed.

“Let’s go.”

Month 3

“Are you ready?” Fred asked as you stood at the door of his childhood home. He was grinning from ear to ear. Today was the day that the two of you had decided to tell his family about the baby. You told your parents a few days earlier and they couldn’t be happier, but that was two people. Now it was time to face Fred’s parents, six siblings, and all of their significant others.

“Very ready,” you smiled back. Fred had been sitting on the edge of his seat for nearly a month whenever you visited. It was the end of your third month and therefore an appropriate time to start telling the family.

“Mum! We’re here!” Fred called out as he opened the door.

“OHHH! Y/N, Fred! Welcome. I’m so happy you both could make it!”

“We always come for Sunday night dinner, Mrs. Weasley,” you laughed while being buried into one of her notorious bear hugs.

“Woah there, mum. Don’t want to crush Y/N and our-” Fred cut himself off before he let the word ‘baby’ slip. Luckily, Molly was a blur around the house that she hadn’t even noticed. After giving Fred a quick hug, she called up to the rest of the family and feet began stampeding down the stairs.

“Wow, it is getting a little crowded in here,” you laughed as you hugged Ginny, Hermione, George, Ron, Harry and then Bill, Charlie, Fleur and little Victoire. “Even Teddy is here!” you smiled as you hugged the 3 year old with bright blue hair.

“The more the merrier is our motto!” Arthur Weasley boomed as he came into the kitchen as well.

“It’s a good thing that you think that way, dad!” Fred beamed, sharing a quick glance with George. At this rate, the family was going to learn the news before everyone even sat down for dinner.

Pre-dinner chats ensued and then Mrs. Weasley called them all from the living room to the table. That’s when she started handing out the wine. She had decided it was a special occasion because EVERYONE was at dinner. Bill and Fleur were in France the previous week and Charlie was back from Romania for a period of time. Even Percy managed to pull himself away from his busy work life. You looked at Fred with a small, close lipped smile, letting him know that it’s time to spill the news. Everyone would find out soon enough when you refused the wine.

You took your seat next to Fred with Ginny on your other side, leaning into Fred as he wrapped his arm around you and kissed your temple. Then, he cleared his throat to get the 12 other people’s attention.

“I’d like to make a toast,” he announced, raising his glass. “I can’t imagine this night being any better. Spending time with my amazing family, the extensions included,” he nodded to Harry, Hermione, and Fleur. “It’s a big family, but it’s about to get a little bigger. Currently a plum size bigger.” You nudged Fred slightly. He had been making fun of you for announcing which food your baby’s size matched each week.

“Oi, cut to the chase down there. I can’t hold it in for much longer! I’m bursting at the seams over here!” George hollered from the other end of the table.

Your smile grew as you made eye contact with Molly. You could tell she already knew what Fred was going to say, but was letting him break the news.

“Y/N and I are pregnant!” Fred’s signature grin was plastered on his face and you didn’t think that he’d been wiping it off anytime soon.

“This is brilliant!” Ginny cheered as she wrapped an arm around you. “I get to be an aunt, again!” she smiled at Victoire.

“Victoire,” Fleur got the little girl’s attention. “Yoo are going to be a couzin to a ittle boy or girl. Eesn’t zis exciting?”

“Ronald and I can babysit whenever you need a break,” Hermione offered, Ron nodding along, even though he wasn’t too sure if he wanted to be with a baby around his fiancé just yet.

The congratulations and excitement lasted all through dinner. By the end, Bill and Fleur offered you Victoire’s baby clothes if you had a girl, Arthur said he could fix up the cradle they used for all their children, Molly had already started knitting a little hat and bootie set. It was crazy and chaotic, but you loved every second of it. This was your wild family now and the wild family that your baby would get to grow up with.

Month 4

You paced around your flat with a hand on your forehead and one on your stomach. You had just gotten back from your appointment, the high of telling the Weasley family about the pregnancy two nights ago still lingering. Of course, once you went to see Dr. Woodson, the feeling changed.

-

“Oh, that’s interesting,” Dr. Woodson had said as she ran her wand over your stomach to look at the baby.

“What?” you asked. She’d never said anything like that before.

“It seems we may have missed something.” She pulled an image up. “Normally we would catch this earlier, but see that there.” She pointed and you nodded. “Well, there appears to be a second fetus and a second heartbeat that I must have missed before. Y/N Weasley, you are having twins!”

-

Laying down on the couch, you thought about what having twins would mean. Two of everything really. Fred and George’s shop was doing great again and they were acquiring Zonko’s in Hogsmeade too, so money wouldn’t technically be an issue. But, twins! They could be a little Fred and George exactly and that would be a handful. The doctor never said that they were identical necessarily, so you could have a boy and a girl.

“Honey! I’m hoooome!” Fred sang opening the door.

“With your favorite brother-in-law!” George sang after him.

Both twins sat grocery bags on the table. “What’s all this?” you asked, mind still focused on the news you got earlier in the day.

“We have decided to cook you dinner!” George said triumphantly.

You looked at the identical faces that stood before you, both grinning at you. “Fred, we’re having twins!” you blurted out at them, not able to hold it in any longer. Fred dropped the bag he was still holding, apples and oranges rolling all over the floor.

“Twins.” He said, eyes glazed over, looking past you and at the wall, where the onesie that you gave him the day you told him you were pregnant was hanging.

“You’re going to have a mini Fred and I?!” George squealed in excitement. He shook Fred’s shoulders, bringing him back to the present.

“That we are!” you smiled, appreciating the enthusiasm. “Well maybe, we could have girls, or a girl and a boy. We won’t know until the end of next month,” you explained, rambling.

That’s when Fred went into total care mode. “Do you need to sit down? You should be sitting down. Mum always complained about what Georgie and I did to her body and how hard carrying twins was.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Freddie,” you giggled, “maybe YOU should sit down!”

“Yes, perhaps I shall, love.” Fred plopped down onto the couch as you went into the kitchen to grab him a cup of water. “Twins, wow.” You heard him breathe out in the living room.

“He is happy about it, just processing,” George whispered to you as he started to put your groceries away.

“I know,” you smiled, “he is going to make a great dad!”

Month 5

Your stomach was really bulging at this point. Two little ones growing in there. You were beyond excited as you slid on a maternity dress with sunflowers plastered all over it. It had become your favorite dress, comfortable, stretchy, it had pockets. But, today, you put it on for your gender reveal party. Originally, you and Fred were going to wait and be surprised by the sex of the babies, but Molly and even George changed your minds.

They agreed that once they received the news, Dr. Woodson would write the genders on pieces of paper, seal them in an envelope, and send them with an owl to Molly. Now, you were getting ready for that party. You were more going along with Fred when you originally said you’d wait to find out the sexes, but now you were giddy!

“Love, are you ready? Everyone is downstairs,” Fred knocked on his childhood door as he opened to take in the room that hadn’t changed in years. You followed Fred down the stairs, him holding your hand the whole way to ensure that you didn’t trip down the stairs. He may be loud, boisterous, and reckless usually, but since he learned about the twins, he treated you as if you were a china doll, it was so sweet.

“Surprise!” a hoard of people called when you exited the Burrow. The Weasleys had completely decked out their yard on the spring evening. Twinkle lights flooded the area with light as the sun set to the west. Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom had brought in tons of flowers that surrounded the tables. All the pinks and blues were bright as can be, signifying the news that was about to be shared with everyone, even the parents.

“Merlin! It’s beautiful! Thank you,” you beamed, taking in as much of the yard at once as possible.

The party was a blast. Blue and pink food. Cute little presents left out with yellows and greens. Tons of little Gryffindor attire, even though you’d be okay with your children being in any of the houses. But the time for the reveal drew closer.

“Y/N, Fred. Stand here,” Molly ordered them. “George is out back setting everything up.”

You were shaking with excitement. Your family and Fred’s family all held sparklers that lit the darkness. The colors reflected off of your and Fred’s skin. He glanced over at you and whispered, “You’ve been glowing this whole time, but you’re really glowing now,” before leaning down and kissing your cheek.

“Everyone ready?” George called from behind the hedge. “3…2…1!”

The sky exploded with fireworks of blue and pink. Your hand flew to your mouth as you took in the sight. “We’re getting a little boy AND a little girl, Freddie,” you laughed, happy to now know. Fred hugged you tightly, leaving just enough room for your protruding belly.

“We’re having a boy and a girl,” he repeated, grinning ear to ear. Everyone let the two of you have your moment before flooding you with hugs and congratulations.

Month 6

“Psssst, Freddie.” You whispered, peaking at the clock quickly. It read 1:30 AM…oops.

“Yes, love,” Fred whispered as he yawned before turning over and lazily slinging an arm over your body.

“I’m hungry…” you said, big, pouty, pleading eyes already in place as Fred opened one of his. “Will you pleeeeease get me some chocolate covered strawberries and the cheesiest nachos you can find?”

“That is the strangest combination that I have ever heard.” Fred grunted as he pushed the blankets down. “You sure you can eat both of those things?”

So far, you had found that you could no longer even look at any kind of fish, tuna was WAY out of the question, the smell of tomatoes made you gag, and turkey was a big no go. In fact, most meat was starting to make you queasy and you could only eat it sometimes.

“It’s what I’m craving, so I think so?”

“Sounds good, love. I’ll be right back.” Fred threw on some pants and a jacket and apparated out of the flat. You laid back in your bed, feeling extremely content as you pulled the blankets up to your chin just to throw them off. You’d been going from freezing to feeling like a million degrees every few minutes.

That familiar pop could be heard as Fred brought the food to you in bed. “Nachos and chocolate covered strawberries for my beautiful, glowing wife. We can never go back to the Spanish restaurant on the corner or the market next to it ever again. You don’t want to know how angry the owners were when I woke them up.”

You had already dug into the food before Fred could undress and get back into bed again. “Are you going to save me any?” he chuckled, sliding back into the sheets.

“Yes, you can have some.” You told him, mouth full and chocolate dribbling down your chin.

“Let me run to the loo before I go to bed again,” Fred told you, getting up once more. By the time he walked back into the room, you were there fast asleep, box of chocolate covered strawberries on one side and box of nachos on the other. Fred couldn’t stop laughing as he picked up the open food and wiped off your face before kissing your forehead and pulling you close to him.

Month 7

“FRED!! It’s so hot!” you complained. You could feel the sweat sliding down every inch of your body and you felt disgusting. You felt huge and being pregnant was not fun anymore. You were big, couldn’t move easily, and your ankles had swollen to three times their normal size.

In the July heat, you just felt terrible.

“Let me get you another fan and some lemonade.” Fred offered.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so cranky with you,” you apologized to Fred when he came to sit back down next to you, handing you a glass of lemonade.

“You have every right to be cranky with me,” he smiled, kissing the side of your head as he had been doing so often now. “You’re carrying my babies. Speaking of which, we should come up with some names. It could be fun!”

You took a deep breath, trying to relax on the couch. “Yes, let’s do that!” Fred had already begun preparing the nursery and Molly and Fleur had sent over hordes of clothes. Planning was tiring you out, as fun and cute as it was, so maybe brainstorming names would be a blast.

“Now, George thinks we should name at least one of them after him. If we did that, we should name the girl Georgia because I think George would throw a fit if the girl was actually named after him. And then the boy could be Fred Jr.”

You looked dead eyed at Fred, not thinking his ‘joke’ was funny. “We are not making, no excuse me, forcing our twins to be mini-yous. Nope, not happening. Veto, next.”

“Okay, geez,” Fred chuckled as he took your hand in his own, knowing you would complain about being hot if he put his arm fully around you.

“Mhmmmm,” you thought out loud. “What about Andrew for the boy. You know, for my brother? I’d like to honor him after losing him 2 years ago in the war.”

“I think that would be nice,” Fred smiled softly at you. “Andrew it is. Andrew Weasley has a good ring to it. We can call him Drew for short too.”

“I think so too,” you agreed.

“Now, for a girl, this is a serious suggestion,” Fred prepared you. “Olivia. I’ve always liked that name.” he played with your fingers.

“Andrew and Olivia Weasley. I think it could work. That was much easier than I thought it was!” You laughed with joy.

“Fred, Y/N, Andrew, and Olivia. Our little family. You like your new names, kids?” Fred spoke to your stomach.

Month 8

“Nope, do not get out of bed!” Fred ordered after you tried to get out of bed. “Doctor’s orders. Plus, Mum is already here.”

Molly Weasley had been coming to your flat nearly every other day to help you and Fred around the house. Dr. Woodson placed you on bed rest the previous week and it was complete AGONY.

“But, Freddie, there is so much we still have to do. I can help.”

“Nope, George and I have it covered. Plus you know the rest of the family will help with whatever we need. You just sit here and rest. Liv and Drew are still growing in there.”

“Yes they are,” you giggled, rubbing your stomach. “I swear they were wrestling in there last night! They were being so active! Kicking and moving around. If these two fight during their entire childhoods, we will be in for some rough years!”

“I bet they will be best friends,” Fred smiled. “Look at Georgie and I! And, if they have any younger siblings in the future, they can team up against them.”

“I should hope not!” you scoffed. Your banter settled as Molly hurried into the room with a breakfast tray.

“Mum will take good care of you today and Ginny mentioned stopping by later, okay?” Fred told you as he kissed you goodbye. “I won’t be too late tonight. Everyone on Diagon Alley seems to know that you’re expecting, so even though business is booming, the shop is ready to be closed at closing!

“Sounds good, dear.” You replied, pushing the eggs to the side. You forgot to tell Molly that you weren’t eating those now because of the babies.

“I’ll take those for you,” Fred chuckled, eating your eggs, sipping some water, and kissing you one more time before leaving. “Have a good day!”

“Bye, hun,” you giggled again as she left. At least you had the company of all the Weasley guests throughout the days when he was gone.

Month 9

“They’re due any day, Freddie!” You squealed. You had attempted to jump a little, but that just made you have to pee, so you stopped that immediately. “When they get here, we can hold them all the time and I’ll be able to move freely!”

You had secretly begun doing the things that you hoped would speed along the delivery date. You were eating spicy foods, walking around when no one was watching you and forcing you back to bed, drinking raspberry tea, everything! Well, not everything. You had try to convince Fred to have sex with you the night before, but he refused. Said it was weird with two babies in there, even though you looked beautiful and he would love to.

You had just rolled your eyes at him in response, but you did try!

“You going to come out soon, little ones?” You asked your stomach. “At least one perk of being so large is that I can sit the box of chocolate covered strawberries on my stomach.” You hummed happily, eating another one of the treats that had been your favorites during your pregnancy.

You had eaten them so many times that Molly just started making them regularly for you so that Fred didn’t have to go buy them at all hours of the day randomly.

“Can I come to Diagon Alley with you today?” you asked hopefully. “I need to get out of this house. Everything is ready and I’ve been cooped up for too long.”

Fred stood there thinking, but you pleaded some more, getting him to finally give in. “Only if you promise to not walk around too much.”

“I promise! I’ll sit at Florean’s the whole time!” You drew and X over your heart to seal the promise.

You breathed in the air deeply as you took in the atmosphere of the Alley. The newer owners of the ice cream shop brought you more ice cream each time that you asked for some and whenever you tried to pay, they refused. Yet another perk of being pregnant.

Numerous people had walked by and chatted with you while Fred was at the shop and he came by every so often to check on you. It was a pleasant day. That was until an excruciating pain occurred in your stomach.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,” you whined, hands immediately holding your stomach. “Excuse me,” you pulled one of the waiters aside. “Would you run down to the joke shop and get my husband, please?”

The trip to St. Mungo’s was a blur. Fred was holding your hand the entire way, helping you into your hospital gown, and just being an overall sweetheart as per usual. Molly Weasley and your mum filtered in and out of the room. It wasn’t until Dr. Woodson announced that just those going into the delivery room could stay that the chaos slowed. Even if it was just you and Fred in the room, you knew that every single Weasley and Y/L/N was in the waiting room and would be until your two children entered the world.

Four hours later, you had finished pushing, you had finished working your body to exhaustion. Four hours later, you held two little babies in your arms and they were beautiful. Fred’s smile was so wide and he was so proud as he took Andrew from you and then Olivia.

“You did beautifully, darling,” he whispered, looking at the two children in his arms. The tears were still streaming down your face, stupid post-birth hormones. “Are you ready for the family? They’ll come back in small groups.” You nodded laying your head back on the pillows. It was September 8th. The day your little family had its first addition of many.

You could see the little heads of Olivia and Drew peaking over the blankets as different family members held them. Their hair was strawberry red, just like your favorite snack.

[pacifymebby]

Lebowski's / Bondy

AN if ur feeling sensitive about the split maybe don’t read this x (u have been warned so pls no one send me hateful asks or anything, i will literally just delete my acc if i get mean anons haha)

Y/N is feeling miserable at her works Christmas party, she meets someone else who is feeling the same. 

The bar you were in was all decked out with tinsel and fairy lights, Christmas trees and flashy snowflake lights on the walls. Stars twinkled hanging in all the windows and the bar itself was sprinkled in fake snow.

Someone had really gone all out.

But you weren't feeling all that Christmassy. Even with the Christmas tunes and the festive themed cocktails youd been sipping on all night you weren't feeling all that great.

It was a work Christmas Do mind and no one ever feels fabulous at those. Tonight though you were feeling particularly put out.

It was potentially the last party you would attend for your work, you were thinking about leaving in the new year and going to study something completely different. Sure doing PR for bands was exciting and sure there was never a dull moment, you had loads to invest yourself in and lots to think about all the time, but actually that was a lie. There were plenty of dull moments. All the hours you spent in the office pouring your life into someone else's dream. It was draining and sometimes staring at a computer screen all day just wasn't what you wanted to do.

Hardly ever in fact.

You'd always fancied yourself as a writer, that was your dream, to settle down somewhere quiet and open a book shop or a cafe and spend all your free moments writing. But it was a pipedream and you knew it. An unrealisitic daydream that you only really clung to to get you through long days in the office. And long evenings spent in Christmas themed bars drinking yourself out of and then straight back into your melancholy.

"Y/N isn't it?"

The voice which spoke and drew you out of your thoughts wasnt familiar to you because you'd ever had a conversation with the speaker before. It was familiar to you because you'd spent the last two years of your life having to watch back all their interviews and media appearances to make suggestions for how they could improve their online presence.

You were supposed to be in charge of monitoring their Instagram account too, making sure everything they put up was on brand, but every time you flagged something as not being on brand, this particular individual, the lad who was looking at you expectant and uncertain now, would ignore the labels request that next time he posted something more "chill."

"Uh... Yeah... Hi?" you asked suddenly uncertain yourself. Johnny Bond really couldn't have a good impression of you from the little communication you had ever had with him, always just your notes relayed back to him by the label advisors. You knew how you came across in those notes - a boring, uptight bitch. But that wasn't you and the notes you made were never your own opinions. You actually secretly enjoyed the chaotic antics of Johnny Bond, you just weren't going to risk the career you didn't want or care about to speak up on his behalf. Not when he did such a good job of getting away with ignoring your notes anyway.

"So you're the lass they pay to spy on me," he said with a teasing smile that made you blush. He leant up against the bar and hummed contemplatively as you lost your voice.

"I mean I..." you started, not sure how to defend yourself, "if it's any consolation I don't like doing it..."

"No pet," he chuckled, "somehow hearing you don't even enjoy spying on me makes it even worse... Am a really that insufferable," he was really teasing you now and you were really floundering. You were usually alright at coming up with clever lines, especially after a drink or two, but being face to face with a man you'd had to spend the last two years trying to reign in, despite never having met him before in your life, you were suddenly feeling extremely flustered.

"a..." you started losing your voice and blushing a deep red when he laughed and shook his head offering you a warmer smile as he sipped his drink.

"Howay lass am only messin with yas," he smiled, "I kinda like it actually, getting to meet me FBI agent," he said, "always wondered who it was they were forcing to suffer my Instagram," he grinned, chuckling again when you winced thinking you'd offended him.

"I wouldn't say suffering," you smiled shyly, wanting to tell him that you really were sorry about the relentless "this isn't on brand," notes you had to send to him but knowing that admitting you were working as some mindless soldier for "the regime" was more embarrassing than admitting to being a boring bitch.

"Really?" he raised his brow draining his glass and frowning into it when he realised he'd already finished his drink.

"Yeah," you smirked, "at least you're not dull..." you added wanting to tell him what you really thought, which was that actually he was one of the more endearing clients your company had on the books, that actually you would be sorry most of all to leave because you wouldn't have an excuse to keep up with the everyday life of Johnny bond. But you couldn't say that, it sounded mental.

"Aye," he said, "that's me, the very antithesis..."

"I wouldn't go that far," you giggled into your own glass, blushing when he turned to the barman and ordered two more drinks, one for you. "Thanks," you said, "a was rationing this," you admitted with a sheepish smile.

"Rationing at an open bar, that sounds more like the FBI agent I know," he winked, making you laugh quietly, shaking your head.

"Not an open bar for everyone," you said with a shrug, "only for management and special guests," you nodded to him, smiling faux acusatory and though he smirked wryly at that he didn't look best pleased to hear that news.

"That's insane," he frowned, "always knew management were wankers," he said shaking his head, the glower in his eyes indicating that there was more to that statement than he was willing to let on.

"Careful," you smirked, "your FBI agent might be takin notes,"

"Nah," he chuckled offering you a softer smile, "nah a reckon she's one of the goodies..."

"She won't be either for very long," you sighed then, not sure why you were suddenly feeling like confessing to your secret. You hadn't told anyone yet because you knew how shitty management got with people who quit. It was always treated like a betrayal of the team, your coworkers getting dumped with all your work for no extra pay and a hell of a lot of extra stress. You wouldn't be getting a leaving card that was for certain.

"Oh?" he asked, looking at you with curiosity in his eyes, watching you from over the rim of his glass as he sipped.

"Yeah am thinkin of leaving but it's you know... Don't tell anyone please," you added suddenly remembering that you didn't really know anything about this man. That he could have been another snake in the grass for all you knew.

"Your secrets safe with me lass," he said softly, suddenly melancholic then, "why dya wanna leave?" he asked. You didn't realise he was looking to you then for confirmation of some things he'd been mulling over for quite some time. Perhaps you'd have softened the blow if you had.

"I just hate it here," you admitted taking another, much longer sip of your drink.

The two of you stood leaning back against the bar, watching the room of party goers dancing and chatting and mingling. They all seemed to be making the most of their evening but you knew that didn't necessarily mean they weren't working.

Most promotions happened at the Christmas party and you knew all the lads and lassies from the office would be sucking up to management, trying to flirt with the big names to earn themselves even a tiny fraction more in their next paycheck.

Johnny had been laughing at your comment but when you carried on hw appeared to peeter out into a wince.

"Its just all so... So hostile? I think that's the word, I don't know its just, it's just fucking boring apart from anything else and me managers are complete cunts and half the clients are complete cunts... Not you, sorry no offence,"

"None taken," he smirked still chuckling at your sudden vitriol.

"And like, I feel like what do I even do all day? Watch your Instagram and critique you for being your authentic self? How sad is that? What a waste ya know? Spend all my time making notes that aren't even my real opinions... An it's not like any of it means anything really... You know, people are dying Kim," you rolled your eyes at yourself and did little jazz hands not realising your actions until Johnny had let out a loud laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners, looking genuinely amused for the first time since you'd started talking.

"Aye a know what y'mean," he nodded, his smile fading then, "bit disillusioned with the whole thing meself these days an all,"

"What dya mean?" you asked, biting your bottom lip a little uncertain worried you were intruding now. Though you'd just poured your heart out to him, even if you had brushed it off with an awkward smile.

"I don't know lass it's what you said int it, it's hostile," he shrugged, "don't get me wrong a fuckin love tourin an playing music an all that like but a don't know, its just a bit... I don't know, fucken maddening..." he smirked, "an like a don't know if am wasting me life..."

"You're not wasting your life if you're doing somet you love..." you said chewing your cheek, feeling a little guilt tugging at your heart strings knowing you were a part of that hostile industry.

"Aye," he smirked wryly, "exactly," he necked his drink and turned to order two more, "gan need a bit more to drink if we're gonna start being eachother therapists,"he chuckled offering you another white Russian.

You smirked and held your glass up as if to cheers to that.

"A feel like The Dude," he smirked taking a sip, admiring the drink in his hand.

"The Dude lives inside everyone of us," you nodded trying your best to keep a straight face. You smiled softly when he chuckled, when his eyes met yours and you realised he hadn't quite finished confessing.

"You ever feel like you're paying too much attention to things that don't really matter?" he asked and you bit back a sad, small smile.

"Yeah," you said, "all the time... Like you're worrying about all these things that don't matter so you don't have to worry about the things that do,"

"Aye," he nodded, "a think that's it, a think that's what av realised av been doing an now... Well I don't know... I don't just wanna throw everything away but..."

"You don't like feeling inauthentic?" you asked sipping your drink, glancing around the room. A scene the antithesis of authenticity if ever you'd seen one.

"Aye," he smirked, "only wanna do stuff that makes us happy like,"

"Aye," you smiled softly, "me too..."

After that you settled into an almost comfortable silence. You wanted to say more, wanted to say anything else to break the quiet but small talk seemed futile to you now that you'd unearthed eachothers emotional headaches. So you said nothing, just sipped your drinks and watched the party rage on.

You found it darkly amusing to watch, the music industry has such a reputation for lavish over indulgences and crazy nights but not here, not at a company party. Everyone was desperate to let loose, desperate to be seen as the life and soul of the party, but they were also all holding back for fear of embarrassing themselves or not being taken seriously. They were all too busy playing the game to have any real fun at all and as you watched the scene in front of you you felt yourself settle and make peace with the thought of leaving it all behind.

"So what are you gan do?" asked Johnny suddenly, following your gaze and smirking, you wondered if he found it amusing for the same reason as you.

"What?" you asked dragged out of your thoughts by him once more, you turned to look at him and caught the light in his eyes, couldn't help but smile a little at him then.

"With all this free time you're gan have when you don't have to stalk me instagram anymore..." he chuckled, "what're you gan do with yourself?"

"I don't know," you said shrugging your shoulders, blushing feeling suddenly self concious. You were going to throw your career away and you didn't even know what for, "I wanna travel I guess, I wanna go to Japan and America and I don't know, loads of different places I guess, and..." you trailed off, biting your lip, looking away from him for a moment out of shyness. It felt silly, this dream of yours.

"Go on," he nodded, a small but encouraging smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I think I wanna be a writer," you said, "I don't know what I want to write but..."

"Guess you don't need to know exactly," he said, "a think you should do it though," he added then, glancing back over at you with a more serious expression on his brow, he looked like he really meant it when he said, "you looked happy then when you were talkin about it, happier than you did when a saw you earlier..."

You smirked a little guilty then, blushing and casting your eyes down to the floor.

"Give over did I really look that miserable?" you asked pushing your hair behind your ear awkwardly, relaxing when he chuckled and doubled down.

"Aye, about as miserable as I felt I'd say," he admitted, "that's why I came over like... You looked like the only other person who wanted be here less than I did,"

You smirked and that, you couldn't argue at all.

"Aye at least for you it's a free bar," you teased, "some of us aren't even that lucky!" you grinned relaxing once again when he chuckled and agreed that he was in fact feeling much more lucky than you.

"What about you?" you asked then, feeling the conversation pull to a close prematurely, wanting to hold onto the understanding between you which was easing you through the night.

He was calmer than you'd imagined him to be. He seemed far more laidback than he had come across before when you'd only known him through his insane Instagram captions.

He was easier to talk to than you had expected as well and something about him had you feeling like he was the perfect familiar stranger to confess everything too.

"Hmm?" he raised his brow, as if he'd been deep in thought and had in fact forgotten what you'd been talking about. He'd been looking at you, his eyes flickering over your features. You wondered if he'd just been trying to work out how trustworthy you really were.

"If you quit, what dya think you'll do?" you asked seeing the smirk in his eyes before it reached his lips. He shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know," he said softer than you'd expected, "loadsa stuff I guess, I'd have time to do loadsa stuff a spose,"

"Yeah," you said nodding along, sipping your drink, "it's a bit daunting isn't it..."

"Aye," he chuckled, "is a bit... A wanna go back to America, an Japan, an I also just really wanna stay home and be back with me mates and me family, an a think like, a wanna play music and a wanna make art and a also just wanna make a brew every now and then y'know..."

"I don't think you have to choose just one thing," you said, "know that probably sounds dead daft cause I know the bands all consuming but like,"

"Nah," he said, "you're right like, a could probably find a balance if it were up to me.."

"Oh," you said understanding then, realising where his problem really lay. With the label, with management, with the team of relentless industry men who had bigger better ideas for.

"Yeah," you said with a helpless shrug, "who am I kidding its an industry of tyrants,"

He laughed at that but the smile didn't reach his eyes and you could tell he was still feeling conflicted. Still a little down and out.

"Y'know what I think?" you asked, offering him a cheeky kind of smile, hoping to reassure him, he certainly looked like he needed it just then, "I think if you're not happy now, you have to try somet new, until you find a place where you can be happy... Even if that's like, knitting or birdwatching or sand castle competition judging..."

"What?" he smirked looking at you then with a twinkle of amusement and bewilderment, his smile settling when you doubled down on your advice.

"I mean it doesn't matter what you end up doing, as long as you get happy," you said certain then of what you were trying to say. "Otherwise you are wasting your life aren't you, don't do stuff that makes you miserable..."

"Aye," he said swallowing the last of his drink. You were both really tanking it through these white Russians. You both really needed the drink. "Glad av got such a wise FBI agent," he teased then, nudging you with his elbow, chuckling when you gasped and turned to him with horrified eyes. You were giggling, both of you smiling rare genuine smiles when you trailed off.

You were looking at him thinking how grateful you were to him for talking to you, for seeing you on your own and deciding to be your friend for the evening.

He was looking at you and thinking just the same, grateful that the girl he'd hoped would understand him, had listened to him talking miserable shite all evening. Grateful she was giggling with him now.

"Eyyyyyyy y/n's under the mistletoe with Bondy!" shouted Danny one of the boys from your office, one of the loud mouth bitchy lads that was always sucking up to management and always pissing you off.

You cringed when you looked up at the same time as Bondy, both of you realising then that Danny was right. You were in fact stood under the mistletoe.

"Whatever he says next am sorry," you mumbled your cheeks flushing bright red. Johnny just laughed though he was blushing himself.

"Gwan lad give her a kiss then!" Bradley joined in clapping Danny on the back as they drew the attention of everyone else.

"For f..." you started only to trail off when you saw Johnny lean in, not to your lips but to your cheek, his arm around your shoulder as he apologised to you too. Though his was a little less humiliated.

"Sorry lass ad have liked to have done that somewhere a little quieter," he smirked, letting his arm unwind from round your shoulder as the boys erupted into wolf whistles and embarrassing chants.

You were speechless however, looking back at Johnny barely able to get your head around how carelessly he'd leant in. As if it wasn't a torturous ordeal, as if he really was telling the truth when he said he'd have liked to have done that.

"Wait did you..." you started, biting your lip, floundering and flustered as Johnny sipped the rest of his drink and smirked at you from behind his glass.

The other boys were still making a fuss, berating him for not giving you a proper snog. Making crass jokes about how you'd have to try harder if you wanted a promotion.

"Did I?" he smirked raising his brow, though another comment from the other lads painted a frown on his features once more.

"D... Did you actually wanna kiss me just now?" you looked shocked and then, when the words left your lips you looked utterly mortified and he couldn't help but be endeared to the flush of your cheeks as you mentally cursed yourself for sounding so pathetic.

"Are you joking?" he chuckled, "don't be daft pet," he smirked offering you his hand then, "dya smoke? An if not dya wanna come outside with me anyway?" he asked looking somewhat hopeful.

Even if you hadn't wanted to go outside with him you'd have followed him then just to get away from the party and Danny and Brad.

"Like I said, everyone's a wanker," you mumbled as you left through the back door, sitting out by the fire escape. You were sure you weren't really allowed round the back where all the empty kegs were and all the junk, but you didn't mind, it was nice and quiet out the back. Peaceful.

You sat down beside him on the metal stairs and watched him light up a smoke as you held your chin in your hands.

"Thanks for letting me mither at you," you smirked swirling the ice in your drink around half heartedly.

"Thanks for letting me mither at you," he chuckled, his smile lingering when he turned to you, "don't reckon I've been this honest in awhile," he said, the drunk haze in his eyes telling you exactly why he was being so honest with you now.

"That'll be the white Russians, dude," you teased noticing how he smiled but didn't laugh, shaking his head.

"Nah, a reckon it's you actually," he smirked, "dude,"

You grinned then, feeling yourself blushing, not sure what to say, thinking he was only teasing until his eyes flickered over your face once more. Lingering softly on yours.

"You've got an honest face..." he smirked.

"That a polite way of telling me I can't hide me emotions and you spotted me resting bitch face off miles..."

"No," he cut you off, closer to you then, his hand taking yours the action which hushed you.

"Means you look like the kinda lass you can trust," he said quieter, "n a really needed you tonight so... Thanks," he added, his own cheeks tinged pink whether that be a sudden shyness or perhaps the cold. You weren't sure and you weren't sure what to say.

"Oh," you said softly, watching him smoke his cigarette, admiring his casual elegance. He was calming to look at, warming despite the chill in the December air. "Yeah," you said then, feeling more honest than you cared to admit, "think I really needed you too..."

He smiled quietly, looking down at your hands, your fingers interlinked as he turned your palm over and drew a slow circle around it as he spoke.

There was an understanding bristling between you, a subtle romance to the way you were sitting. So close and so honest. Your shoulders were brushing. Both of you could feel it and though it had seemingly snook up on you from nowhere you knew it was an evenings work. The hour you'd spent talking by the bar, the honesty you had laid upon one another.

"Dya think a could kiss you again?" he asked, swallowing a lump in his throat as he looked up at you from under his lashes.

You bit your lip to hide your smile, a little stunned, a little relieved he'd been feeling it too. That pull between you.

You nodded, quiet and frozen.

"Only if you promise we can leave soon," you said with a small smirk tugging at your lips and at his when he leant in. His kiss an answer, yes.

Your lips met, cold noses brushing as you kissed, his breath on your cheek warm as he pulled away. For a moment he looked shy but when you reached for his shirt and tugged him gently back in for another kiss he found his confidence once more. His lips locking with yours, his hand in your hair, yours gripping his shirt. You were smiling when you pulled away.

It was the most comfortable you'd felt in a long time.

"Cmon then dude," he chuckled, "let's skidaddle,"

[yemilnisu]

I feel you too! when I’m on a road trip, my mind keeps on wandering 🙋🏻‍♀️

Can I request for Iwa? I miss this guy so much 🤧 Hmm.. where his gf is asking him a lot of questions because she saw him with a girl and it bothered her, Iwa became annoyed and it lead to a fight. U can change the scenario if u want hehehe sucker for angst to fluff here. Thank you!

Have a safe trip too!

nisu entries:

hi, bub! I apologize for the late response. I changed it a bit because I’m an idiot and taught that in the timeskip this was Iwa’s job ksjsjs I hope you’ll still enjoy this :>

DOUBT

Synopsis: there’s always something that will make you question your faith to your partner but the question is would the both of you work it out or break it off?

Pairing: gym instructor!iwaizumi x fem!reader

Genre: angst to fluff

Word Count: 1.8K

Having a professional gym instructor as your boyfriend is fun. You get to go to the gym as much as you’d like and you can stay as long as you’d like and you also get a hot instructor to guide you with no fees needed, just give him all your love and affection afterwards and it’s all good.

But there’s always something that you hate about his job. All these girls can take advances towards your boyfriend. Especially this new girl that seems to take her advances to the next level and you watched as your boyfriend seems to enjoy his time with her.

The girl glanced at your direction, scanned you from head-to-toe and leaned towards your boyfriend’s ear and whispered something. The lad seems to become a little flustered for the reason that his cheeks flushed red then he peered to your direction, when you the two of you made eye contact, he weirdly avoided your gaze.

You waited patiently for this last session of his to finish, either listening to some music or simply scrolling through your feed but your mind was wandering somewhere else, whether what the girl’s relationship with your boyfriend was or what they were talking about earlier and right now. You trust your boyfriend with all your heart but the way his cheeks grew the hue of pink, made you question some things...

When the two of you got home, you contemplated on whether you’re going to ask him or not. Thinking he might get mad because that just means that you don’t trust him the same way he does.

But you can’t help it the memory of him blushing because of some other girl seriously made an impact to you. If he doesn’t love you anymore and find other girls attractive, you want to hear it from him.

“Uh, Hajime, who is she?” you asked trying not to sound like the ‘possessive’ girlfriend. You knew that it was his job and that was his client but you just can’t help to hear what she was to him.

“What do you mean?” he replied and quickly putting his attention back to what he was doing. He was arranging his schedule for tomorrow and he needed to finish it as soon as possible because a lot of people wanted to have a training session with him.

“The girl earlier...” you muttered under your breath as you sink into the couch, fidgeting with the hem of your shorts.

Iwaizumi’s gaze didn’t left the screen of his computer when he sighed, “you need to be a little more specific.” He knows you were beating around the bush and in that moment he was a bit irritated about it. Can’t you go straight to the point and tell him what’s on your mind? He’s a little busy you know? He really wanted to finish this ASAP.

You peered at your boyfriend and he side-eyed you, waiting for your response. “The one wearing the cyan sports wear,” you lisped.

“You mean Irina?” he admonished. “She’s the new client. Why?”

“And? Is- is that all? I mean- how would you describe her...?” you stuttered out as you swallow your nervousness to what his answer might be down your throat.

“She’s kinda cool I guess? She’s the funniest client I had,” he gushed. You were about to say something but the ringing of his phone cut you off. He looked at the caller id and answered the phone. “Hello, Irina?”

Iwaizumi stared at you for a second before standing up and walking to the balcony of your shared apartment.

You gawked at his back while he hold his phone close to his ear. Why doesn’t he want you to hear their conversation? Is it that personal? He said she was just his client but why would he be talking about private matters with her? Did he lie to you? Why would he lie to you?

You came back to your senses when he turned around to look at you, you avoided his gaze and stood up to walk to the bedroom. It was 10 pm so you decided to sleep already. You knew he would stay up until late at night arranging his schedule because that’s just how well known he his in this field.

An hour already passed by but you were still awake. Shifting your position every so often, trying to find yourself a comfortable position. But it was not that you’re not comfortable, the bed was soft, the blanket wrapped around you in such a cozy manner and the air conditioner was at the right temperature. Everything was perfect but those were not the reason to your problem, to why you can’t sleep. The problem was your constant overthinking about what happened and what Iwaizumi said earlier.

He said she was cool? And even funny? When a person finds someone funny they’ll get attached to them right? So does that mean sooner or later, he’ll get attached to her? What about you? What will happen to your relationship?

You wanted to talk to him but doing so might be his chance to break up with you. You felt hot tears stream down your cheeks and you slowly drifted into slumber.

When you woke up, the other side of the bed was already empty. You didn’t see him sleep beside you nor wake up beside him, it made your heart ache. Your guess is that he already left for work. You were disappointed, did he really forgot what day it is?

When you lift the covers off of you and placed your feet at the floor, the usual cold, hard floor felt soft. You caught sight a trail that is made of red flower petals. When and how did those petals come from? Did you slept at the wrong house?

You followed the trail trying to avoid stepping on anymore petals even though it was soft and the sensation of the sole of your feet with the mushy petals was adequate, you felt bad for stepping on them.

When you reached the end of the trail you were at the living room. There was fairy lights everywhere and the coffee table was full of snacks and sweets you love. There was also a fort made out of blankets and pillow, it looked extremely comfortable that you wanted to lay on them right that instant but there was still a lot of questions on your mind. Who made them?

You felt a presence behind you and you slowly turned around. There stood the culprit holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“Happy anniversary!” Your boyfriend beamed. He gave you the bouquet and you confusingly accepted them.

“I thought you forgot- how did you even get them? These are so rare,” you were completely astound as how he got the flowers you were holding. You leaned forward to sniff the bouquet and the aroma from it lingers through your nostrils was so relaxing.

“How could I forget? I spent all night trying to move all the schedules I had today,” he grumbled but he wasn’t mad about having to move them, he was mad he didn’t spend anytime with you yesterday. “I had some help from Irina,” he observed your reaction when he mentioned that name once again.

He knew you were significantly vigilant about the girl. He knew how extra fidgety you were last night and how you sunk into the couch when you asked about her but he can’t tell you anything or it will ruin the surprise. “You see, it turns out that she owns a flower shop and to my luck they have the flowers you adores so much,” he explained.

“Oh? I didn’t know talking about flowers can make you flustered?” you bleated. Iwaizumi was confused for a second but it quickly turned into a smirk.

“Oh, so you were watching,” he snickered. It wasn’t his intention to make you jealous but he’s getting so much amusement from it. He wanted to tease you a little more but he didn’t because he knows that there’s a 50 percent chance it will turn into an argument and he didn’t want to risk it, he didn’t want to ruin you guys’ anniversary.

You bit your bottom lip as you just exposed yourself. Your heart was pounding out of your chest when he answered, “Who wouldn’t? When you’re talking about the person you love.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and tried to observe his expression.

“Yes, dummy. We were talking about you,” he bloated. You can feel the side of your lips arc upwards but you stop it before your boyfriend notices. “She said how lucky I was to have you and how extremely patient you were because you waited for our session to finish. She even said to never let you go because you were the type of girl that is one of a kind,” he elaborated.

You can see that he was sincere. Iwaizumi was never the type of guy to give you long paragraphs or tell you long speeches of how much he loves, he thought that those things are just too cringe for his liking and you completely understood. Even though he wasn’t the type to get cheesy with you he never fails to show how much he loves you.

Like he’ll try to fix his schedule just so he can pick you up and drop you off work, even though you have told him countless of times to not do that, he’s still doing it well you can’t really talk him out of things when he sets his mind to. And when he canceled all of his session for two whole days just so he can take care of you because you weren’t feeling well. That’s how the Hajime Iwaizumi shows affection, your Hajime Iwaizumi.

“And I don’t plan to. I’ll never ever let go of you, Y/n,” he continued, staring deep into your eyes and slowly leaning forward.

“You’re just saying that,” you huffed and shoved him the bouquet. You were completely messing with him. The look on his face when you pushed him away was priceless. His eyes wide open from your sudden rejected and lips slightly parted.

Before you can even take a step away from him, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer by the waist. You always knew how to tease him and Iwaizumi doesn’t mind, he doesn’t mind being teased by you. He found it kinda hot, how you can easily piss him off just because rejected his kiss or his hug. Only you have that kind of power and affect on him. “I don’t think so, princess,” he murmured, his voice deep and raspy. He leaned towards your face and kissed you slowly and with so much affection.

This time you let yourself smile. Who knew even after years of dating Iwaizumi never fails to make the butterflies in your stomach go feral.

[heylors]

The one where Harry Styles and Taylor Swift reunited at the GRAMMYs 2021.

I just wanna taste it, I just wanna taste it Watermelon Sugar high Watermelon Sugar–

And the applause of the small crowd echoed in the studio they were in. It was ten seconds of clapping for Harry Styles who just opened the GRAMMYS with his hit single that is nominated for tonight. He bowed and fixed his hair while appreciating the cheers for him.

After his performance, he made a quick change and wore a custom made Gucci outfit with a fuzzy purple boa wrapped around his neck. He took photographs for the red carpet before proceeding to his seat.

After twenty minutes of waiting, the program resumed with the host presenting Taylor Swift to perform.

His heart suddenly started to beat faster than it did when he was opening up the GRAMMYS as soon as he saw his old flame on the big screen performing her song, Cardigan.

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone's bed You put me on and said I was your favorite.

She then continued her performance by singing August and Willow.

Harry was able to sing along throughout the performance since he tried listening to Folklore. He's been always so amazed by how Taylor writes her lyrics and how she puts melodies into it. He remembers how she wrote 'Style' where she stated that he really got that James Dean daydream like... who writes like that? Who compliments their exes like THAT?

He was also stunned on how she wrote the bridge of Out of the Woods and how she narrated the downfall of their relationship in just a span of 20 seconds.

Taylor did the same thing as Harry after performing. She changed her wardrobe after going back to her seat with Jack and Aaron.

While waiting for the program to resume, her eyes explored the tent where a lot of nominated artists are seated but as soon as she laid her eyes to the man who inspired the album that was awarded AOTY last 2016, it never left.

She smiled behind her mask. She remembers how Harry would talk about how cool it is if he wins an award for himself back in 2012. She knew he was so passionate as her on writing songs about his feelings and seeing him 9 years later, nominated for the same categories with her at the GRAMMYS, is something that makes her feel cozy at some point.

Harry gazed at her the same time Taylor was gazing at him. His green and her ocean blue eyes collided once again after years of not seeing each other.

They both squinted and knew they both lowkey smiled at each other since their masks were covering their mouths.

After the quick intimate staring, they both looked at different ways and made themselves busy but they couldn't deny the fact that memories from the past starts to linger in their heads.

Before they can even zone out from their reality, the program resumed and they were about to announce the winner for Best Pop Solo Performance where they are both nominated.

While they are showing the nominees, Harry kept looking at Taylor's direction because he knows that she's gonna get the GRAMMY and didn't even thought of winning it for himself. He's already too grateful to be nominated alongside his ex and other wonderful artists.

Taylor on the other side is hoping for her old flame to win knowing how much it would mean to him plus, she knows he deserves it.

"And the GRAMMY goes to...."

"Harry Styles." Taylor breathed.

"Cardigan." Harry sighed.

"Watermelon Sugar, Harry Styles!"

Taylor smiled and stood up before anyone else. Even before Harry.

She clapped and looked at his direction. She starts nodding as if she was saying "Well deserved, Lad. Well deserved."

Harry proceed to give his acceptance speech for his first ever GRAMMY which he only dreamt of having. He grabbed the trophy and put it back seconds after holding it.

"Wow, erm..." He sighed before continuing his speech. He couldn't believe it, and the thought of winning something from a prestigious award show couldn't sink in that quick.

Taylor's watching him from her seat and couldn't help but to grin behind her mask all throughout his speech. She could tell that he's nervous because he speaks too fast and he kept looking down.

"All of these songs are fucking massive." Harry said and took a quick glance to Taylor so they made another eye contact.

"I feel honored to be among all of you so thank you so much." This time, Harry's eyes were locked in to Taylor and she didn't even looked away. She's just so proud of him and how far he's made.

Harry made his way out after giving his speech but he forgets to take his GRAMMY with him which made Taylor giggled.

Harry took some quick photographs backstage with his achievement and the thought of winning against those artists is still not sinking in for him. He went back to his seat since he's nominated for two more categories where in one of them, he's nominated alongside Taylor again.

It was time to announce the winner for Best Pop Vocal Album so Taylor and Harry made themselves comfortable in their seats since this is a big category to win.

Taylor was sort of anxious because out of six nominations for Folklore, she won nothing since the pre-show. This is her second to the last nomination.

Though she was worried about it, a part of her didn't care about the awards because she didn't even think of winning awards for the album that she only wrote to keep herself busy and to entertain her fans during the lockdown.

"And the GRAMMY goes to... Future Nostalgia, Dua Lipa!"

Taylor as well as Harry clapped and stood up for their good friend. Despite of not winning 5/6 of her nominations tonight, Taylor remained calmed and enjoyed the rest of their evening.

As soon as Dua ended her acceptance speech, Harry took a quick glanced at Taylor who's also applauding for her.

He's thinking of approaching her before he gets out of the tent since he's not nominated for anything already. A little catch up wouldn't hurt anybody aye?

After the cameras stopped rolling, Harry stood up and talked to some artists in the room before walking towards Taylor to start a conversation.

"Hey, good to see you." Harry greeted Aaron Dessner as soon as he reached their table, "Congratulations on your nominations. Folklore deserved!"

Aaron congratulated Harry too for winning his first GRAMMY.

"Thanks! I couldn't believe it either." He then turn his attention to Taylor who's sitting on her chair, listening to their conversation.

"Great performance by the way." He looks down to her and started the conversation.

Taylor stood up so she would be on the same level as him, "Thank you! Did you see it?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah."

"We were like so nervous because its the first time we played on National TV." She explained.

"Yeah, it was great." Harry responded.

It felt like it was 2012 all over again but everything's not out of place, and there's no trace of uncertainty. He could tell that Taylor is in a very grounded, and stable life which he failed to give when they were in a relationship. She looked as beautiful as the day that he lost her.

He always imagined that they would be standing here, talking to each other about how great life is going on for the both of them. After what they had in the past, Taylor was something for him. She will always have this piece of him that she didn't know she holds.

December 2012 ( I highly recommend to play Unchained Melody by The Righteous Brothers while reading this part. )

"Help me move this one, Babe." Taylor asked his boyfriend a favor as she holds a side of her couch.

"Let me do it. I workout for you, you know."  Harry flexed his muscles and winked at Taylor before holding the other side of the couch.

"With your clumsy ass? Yeah right." Taylor chuckled and rolled her eyes. Harry mocked her accent which made Taylor giggle.

"Let's just move the furnitures please? So we could dance."

After they moved some tables and upholstered piece of furnitures, Harry puts on The Righteous Brothers' vinyl record and Unchained Melody starts playing.

He walked towards Taylor who's waiting for him at the middle of her apartment.

He holds her tight like it was the last time because he knows deeply that this is soon gonna last considering that their relationship is very fragile and tentative.

They swayed slowly to the music with their eyes closed, feeling each others' heartbeat.

"I wish we could stay like this forever." Taylor whispered.

Harry rubs her back because he knows she's tearing up, "I always pray for it, baby."

After seconds of silence, she spoke again but this time with her voice cracking.

"Do you think we'll make it?" Taylor.

"We'll make it right?" She continued.

Harry sighed and responded, "Of course, we'll make it."

He kissed her temple and hugged her as she starts to sob. She held him tighter than she ever did before, knowing that it could be the last time she'll be holding the love of her life.

**

"Well, its great to see you!" Harry tries to end the conversation since he still has things to do backstage.

"It's great to see you too, Haz." She tilted her head and flashed a smile at him.

He bids goodbye to Taylor and the others who were at the table and then proceeds backstage. He wouldn't be there when they would announce the Album of the Year but he is certain that Taylor is going to get it. He is so sure that he already have a draft of a congratulation-text for her.

Taylor watches Harry walk away and realizations just hit her on the spot.

They made it.

Separately.

But they still made it.

and she's happy for that.

She considered Harry as someone who would interrupt her wedding because he believes that it isn't over yet. That it should be him that she must marry.

Nine years later, she still considers him who would still go to his wedding but to not interrupt it. He would be there with a date on his arm,  a date he loves truly because he found his person too. He would give a beautiful toast about love and growth... about relationships that are meant to be and relationships that are meant to send you on a path of change.

They will share a dance where he kisses her on her forehead just like what they did back in December of 2012.

He'll tell her that he is proud of her, of them, and of their history and she's thankful to hear that from him.

She's been thinking about the hearts she's broken on her journey here, and he tells her his heart was broken but it taught him about himself in only the way your first love can.

Taylor tells him she really loves this person he is with and he tells her that he's been planning to propose and a year later, she's at his wedding giving a toast about love that's meant to be and love that helps you grow.

"And the GRAMMY goes to... Folklore, Taylor Swift!"

Harry flashed a grin as he watches Taylor makes history for being the first woman to win Album of the Year three times from the television backstage.

"Joe.." Taylor let out a sigh of relief as she thanks his boyfriend.

"Who is the first person that I play every single song that I write and I had the best time writing songs with you in quarantine."

And when I walked up to the podium, I didn't forgot to say your name.

And on her way home to her boyfriend, her phone lits up with a message notification from someone she knew and might really never forget as long as she lives.

From: unknown

Congratulations! I knew you would make history. You deserve it, Taylah.

Send my regards to Joe, I would love to meet the lad someday.

All the love, H.

___

[carewyncromwell]

“Oh, you're everything I'm wanting -- Come to think of it, I'm aching... On account of my transgression, Will you welcome this confession? Could this be out of line? Could this be out of line, To say you're the only one breaking me down like this? You're the only one I would take a shot on -- Keep me hanging on so contagiously...” ~“So Contagious” by Acceptance 

x~x~x~x

In Estrid Soelberg’s @thatravenpuffwitch sixth year, there was a noticeable shift in the kelpie who’d taken on the identity of Rudolph Ollivander. Ru was as snarky and anti-status-quo as ever, but they also didn’t seem to look upon everyone with so much universal disdain or distrust. They would initiate a game of Wizard’s Chess with their fellow Ravenclaws now again, including Siobhan Llewelyn @kc-needs-coffee. They enjoyed spending time with Galen Stagg @cursebreakerfarrier, even going so far as to rope the meeker Gryffindor into helping him scare some of their classmates at the Shrieking Shack (which resulted in the two “running for the lives” to get away from their targets’ retaliation, Ru laughing their head off all the while). And with Estrid herself, Ru had actually started taking to asking her to dance with them and then whisking them away so that she wouldn’t have to deal with a hundred and one guys trying to court her at parties. Admittedly that particular behavior only made the rumor machine at school work double-time -- the entire school, it seemed like, saw Ru and Estrid as a couple, or at least sweet on each other, just because of how much time they spent together. It had been rather aggravating for both Ru and Estrid for a long time, even after they stopped actively hating each other and started nurturing a real friendship. 

As their seventh year began, Ru’s relationships with both Galen and Estrid grew even closer. Before long, you wouldn’t see one without the other two. If Galen ever got bullied, Estrid and Ru would ride to his rescue. Whenever Estrid had to brave parties, Ru was her shadow, warding off all unwanted advances. And once, when Ru was challenged to a duel by a Gryffindor and one of his buddies and then attacked from behind upon them winning by throwing a potion in their opponent’s face, Galen went full-on “Papa Bear,” blocking the spell before it could land on Ru, disarming the bloke who’d attacked them, and sticking his wand right in the other Gryffindor’s face until he backed off. And as the three’s friendship grew stronger, Estrid really started to realize how much she dreaded the end of her time at Hogwarts. She’d miss spending time with Galen and Ru -- having them always there. 

Ru in particular she hated the thought of saying goodbye to. As a kelpie, Ru had no real family, and they didn’t see themselves as having many prospects for a real future. They didn’t have very strong magic, and their life-span was short enough that they’d have trouble disguising themselves after a while. 

“Sooner or later, any folks around me at a job or some such would start giving me the side eye,” Ru had said at the time, sounding rather grim and resigned, “they’d dismiss all the theories like botched Transfiguration or a Dark curse, and Bob’s your uncle, they’d figure out the truth. At that point...well. The game would really be over then, wouldn’t it?”

It was that masquerade that was central to Ru’s current life. They’d only gotten into Hogwarts by pretending to be Rudolph Ollivander, so without their identity as Rudolph, they didn’t have a pair of shoes to fill that wouldn’t arouse suspicion. And once that identity was taken from them and they were revealed for what they were, Ru seemed pretty convinced that no one would want to stick by them. They hadn’t even told Galen the truth about what they were yet, and Estrid suspected it was largely because they feared what their best friend would think, if he knew they’d stolen the identity of the Ravenclaw boy they’d drowned in the Lake four years ago. Estrid got the feeling that Ru was already preparing to say goodbye to their life as a human and retreat back to that solitary existence they led prior to attending Hogwarts...and that thought hurt Estrid. She hated the thought of Ru living out the rest of their life alone...only being able to look back at all of the fun things they did at Hogwarts, and never be able to try anything new ever again. Never be able to take any more pictures, or get any better at their crude animations, or even take a stroll through the pouring rain again...

The memory of the two of them dancing in the rain together the previous year rippled again over Estrid’s mind. 

Ru had been so happy, just dancing with her in the rain and enjoying the squishing, squelching sounds made by their shoes and their sopping wet clothes. It just didn’t seem fair that someone who could be happy with so little had to condemn themselves to a life devoid of even those little pleasures. But could she really expect a wild creature to put their own self-preservation at risk -- expect Ru to actually brave the consequences of their past actions? As much fun as they had as a human, and as much fun as they had at school...well, it’d already seemed like they’d given up. Like they’d seen the writing on the wall and were prepared to go out quietly, like a very old cat sneaking out of the house to die in peace. And as human as they were...they were still a kelpie. Would they even be happy with the kind of life witches and wizards led post-Hogwarts -- one with structure, with employment and responsibilities -- with family? 

Perhaps it was because of how guilty she felt about Ru’s situation that Estrid agreed to go with Ru when the kelpie decided to take advantage of the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend to sneak out to a photography exposition in a nearby Muggle town. It was likely because of his loyalty as a friend than Galen tagged along too...and perhaps because Siobhan Llewelyn had also caught wind that Ru was sneaking out and decided to tag along too. 

It was a bit strange, dressing in something other than their school uniforms. Estrid had decided it would be practical to wear pants, since they’d probably have to be able to run quickly in case they got caught sneaking out or sneaking back in. She hadn’t been sure what Ru would do, exactly, since she’d never seen them in anything but their school uniform -- when Ru met up with them, though, dressed in a flared red hunting jacket and khaki trousers with no shirt underneath, she found herself completely unsurprised. Ru already never buttoned their uniform shirt, presumably because of how much they hated collars -- Estrid supposed it was only the next step, to walk around just in a jacket without any shirt on at all! 

The exhibition showcased a series of so-called “moving pictures” -- compilations of still photographs that, when put together, created the illusion of movement. Magical photography tried to create such movement through the use of enchantments, like the kind used on enchanted portraits, but the technology of photography didn’t mesh well with those sorts of enchantments, since it was harder to “fold” the enchantments into the photographs the same way one could with paints, and so they were often poor quality and would often lose a lot of the magic trying to give them the ability to talk and move before long. But, as Ru pointed out to the others, these “moving pictures” the Muggles had developed could be played over and over and over again in a loop, and even if there was no sound included, the overall quality of the pictures remained the same. 

“It doesn’t even try to recreate life, like wizards do with their pictures,” said Ru. “Instead it creates the illusion of life -- records one moment, rather than stupidly trying and failing to recreate everything that person was. And that one moment is enough! It’s more than enough. With that one moment recorded, you get all the information you need. You can fill in the blanks of everything else on your own.”

The four spent the day watching and enjoying moving pictures of walking in Paris, France, galloping horses, and even a girl feeding her cat. The entire time, Ru was transfixed, sitting awkwardly as ever on their chair between Estrid and Galen with their way-too-long legs crossed at a weird angle and leaning across their own lap to look at the pictures better. At one point, Ru leaned their head very far to the side close to Estrid, to try to see the picture from a certain angle, and their long black hair came down like a curtain beside Estrid’s face. 

Biting back a laugh, Estrid carefully brought a hand up to smooth Ru’s hair out of her face. The gesture startled Ru and made them look at her.

“Here,” whispered Estrid with a fond smile. 

She very gently reached up to tuck Ru’s hair behind their ear. 

Ru’s face flushed slightly. Their electric blue eyes darted off to the side.

“...Thanks,” they muttered.

Close by, a couple of older matrons whispered amongst themselves.

“Ah, that’s how the couples are split, then -- left and right pairs -- ”

“Such a strange-looking pair on the right, wouldn’t you say?”

“Perhaps...but look at that dark-haired lad, he’s clearly smitten -- ”

“Is that a lad? Good heavens, that hair -- ”

Estrid shot a tired look over her shoulder. 

“Sounds like people are jumping to that old conclusion again,” she said to Ru with a wry smile.

Ru was still blushing slightly, their mouth twisted in a frown. “...Mm.”

No snarky comment? That was odd. Ru would hardly ever pass up the chance to scoff about how humans’ ideas of “romance” and courting were utterly bizarre. Instead there was almost something...grim in their expression.

People wouldn’t be making that mistake anymore, Estrid thought sadly, if Ru disappeared back into the void, once their class graduated... 

The kelpie returned their focus back to the screen, and Estrid followed suit gladly. At least it seemed Galen and Siobhan were too distracted talking amongst themselves to overhear. 

Unfortunately the group couldn’t stay for the entire exposition, if they wanted to sneak their way back into school with the rest of the kids enjoying their Hogsmeade weekend without getting caught. And although Ru flagrantly ignored the rules most of the time, they seemed oddly concerned about the others’ feelings on the matter, for once.

“Don’t want your whole future getting derailed right as you’re reaching the finish line, do you?” they said rather gruffly.

Estrid had almost never heard the kelpie think of the future that way before. But, of course, even then...it was their friends’ futures. Not their own. Because they didn’t think they’d have any chance of a future themselves...

As the four sat together at the table in the Three Broomsticks, chatting and laughing over some butterbeers and pickled oysters, a fiery, robust feeling was slowly forming in Estrid’s chest, crystallizing and hardening like some kind of flaming hot diamond. 

Ru deserved a future. Even if they had once drowned somebody and stolen his identity -- even if they’d nearly eaten a first year -- they’d grown so much since then, and Estrid had seen there was so much more to them since then. Ru deserved to be able to keep living as a human as long as they wanted. They deserved to live their life to its fullest, even if it was short. They deserved to have somewhere safe to go, even if everyone else found out the truth about what they were and turned their backs on them. ...They deserved to be happy. 

“Estrid?”

Estrid felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up. It was Ru, looming over her like a shadow as always.

“Everyone’s getting ready to leave,” they prompted her.

Estrid looked up. All the students in the Three Broomsticks were gathering together in a clump that migrated toward the door. Galen and Siobhan had already started heading out too, whispering amongst themselves -- Galen shot a very quick glance over his shoulder at them and smiled before turning back to Siobhan. 

“...So they are,” said Estrid.

Despite this, she found herself not immediately getting to her feet. She stayed seated for another moment, her eyes on the table. She could sense Ru watching her, but they didn’t speak again. They sensed that she was deep in thought and decided not to interrupt. It was something Estrid appreciated about Ru -- they were never afraid of silence. 

Estrid closed her eyes, exhaled through her nose, and then opened her mouth to speak. Unfortunately, before she could, a voice cut her off.

“Come on, lovebirds!” crowed a particularly obnoxious Hufflepuff boy. “Don’t want to be left behind, do you?”

Both Ru and Estrid shot the boy a very dirty glare.

“We’re not lovebirds, Wilfred,” Estrid shot back dully. 

She sighed. 

“...What is it you like to say about silence being better than stuffing the space with useless words?” she asked Ru, her voice touched with dry amusement.

Ru avoided her eyes, frowning deeply again. “...Hn.”

The amusement slid off of Estrid’s face. No snarky response again?

“Ru?” she asked. 

“What?” said Ru. 

“Are you...” Estrid bit her lip, “...is there something on your mind?”

Ru gave a loud bluster through their nose and mouth. “I would damn well hope so -- I don’t know how so many people go around with nothing in their heads...”

Estrid relaxed noticeably despite herself. 

“Well, now you’re sounding more like yourself, at least,” she said with another light sigh and a small smile. She rose from the bench at last. “Come on then...suppose we’d better catch up with Galen...”

She’d barely gotten all the way to her feet when she suddenly felt a light tap to her cheek. 

Estrid turned her head. Ru had brought a hand up beside her face, their long pointer finger and thumb only touching her skin just enough to prompt her to look at them. They’d also bent down enough that the collar of their jacket gaped slightly, showing off the Adam’s apple and the top of the pale chest under their silver chain, and that Estrid’s and their faces were only a few inches apart. 

“Estrid...”

Ru swallowed. Something seemed to harden in their electric blue eyes, and they plowed on bluntly. 

“...Look -- I’m attracted to you, okay?”

Estrid gave a light start, but Ru pressed on, undeterred. 

“I know it’s stupid, but I like you. I don’t need you to act any differently, and I’m not going to prance about like a show horse trying to make you like me too. If you don’t like me as I am, I’m not going to change myself so you do. The only reason I’m telling you is…”

They glanced away uncomfortably. 

“...Well, for once, everyone else isn’t being stupid when they talk about me being interested in you – and I just thought you aughta know.”

They looked her full-on again. 

“Now you do.”

Estrid was left speechless. Ru’s electric blue eyes were very intense, and more serious than she thought she’d ever seen them, as they removed their hands from Estrid’s shoulder and away from her face. 

It was strange, for Ru’s face to be so serious. It made them look oddly grounded, steadfast...dedicated. Ru had never been particularly suave or romantic in their manner of speaking, but the bluntness in their tone only seemed to highlight how very truthful and sincere the sentiment behind their words was. It was...really quite sweet. It was like Ru had rested a warm hand over her heart, along with lightly touching her face. A hand that made her feel fuller and happier than she had in a really long time.

Estrid had already come to the thought that Ru wanted to stay as they were, as a human -- to keep enjoying little human pleasures like wearing earrings and taking pictures...but now she also knew for a fact that if Ru could...they would also stay. They wouldn’t just charge off into the sunset and disappear. They might even, if she asked, not hate the idea of living like a human -- of having a job and a home like a human, of dealing with everyday human problems...of settling down and laying down roots and...staying. 

If she asked...Ru might stay.

“Ru...”

Estrid reached out and took hold of the red sleeve of their jacket, preventing them from completely straightening up. 

“...Come home with me.”

Ru stiffened. “What?”

“After graduation,” Estrid clarified. Her words came out at a bit of a rush, despite her best efforts. “You can stay with my grandfather and me in Denmark. I’m sure Grandfather won’t mind. You could look into a job with the Daily Prophet -- they could use someone who knows what they’re doing with photography. And if you’re sending stuff in through Owl Post, no one’ll notice if you don’t look human...I can always answer the door, if someone comes to call and you’re not yourself...”

Ru stared down at her, not quite comprehending what they were hearing. Estrid could feel her face flushing, but she kept a brave face on all the same.

“...You don’t have to stay here all alone, Ru,” she said under her breath so no one else could hear. “I’ll help you protect your secret. And even if everyone does find out what you really are...I’ll stand by you.”

Ru seemed stunned. Their electric blue eyes ran over Estrid’s face, dipping in and out of her eyes and into the corners of her lips. They didn’t say anything for a long moment, but Estrid could sense they were searching her face for any flicker of doubt. When they didn’t find any, their face seemed to lose the rest of its color. 

They bit their lip, looking hesitant in a way Estrid had never seen before.

“...You want me to follow you?” they asked very lowly. “To live with you?”

Estrid’s cheeks were burning, but she nodded all the same. 

“Yes,” she said. 

And as soon as she said the word, she realized how deeply and sincerely she meant it. 

She wanted Ru to follow her. She...wanted them to stay with her.

Ru’s expression seemed to clear. Their face broke into a broad, beautiful smile, full of both a childish kind of delight and quiet, soothing relief. They bowed their head toward Estrid, their lightning-like eyes sparkling just like the silver chain on their neck. 

“...Well, then...” 

Ru brought a hand up to tuck some hair behind Estrid’s ear, trailing their long fingers through it so that it lay flat. 

“...Guess you’ll be my ‘keeper’ a bit longer then...won’t you?”

Estrid felt her own lips curling up in a smile too. “...Guess so.”

“You’d better keep a tight hold of me,” Ru said with a mischievous smile. “Kelpies don’t tame easily.”

“Oh yes, I’m very well aware,” Estrid said coolly. “Your lack of table manners alone make that obvious.”

“Humans have hands, we may as well use them.”

Once Estrid’s hair was smooth enough for Ru’s liking, the kelpie’s smile grew a bit more wry as they extended their arm to her in a mockingly over-the-top formal gesture. 

“Lead and I’ll follow, madam,” they said dryly. 

Biting back a laugh, Estrid brought her arm down onto Ru’s and started to walk with them toward the door.

“Oh...and Ru?”

“Yeah?”

Estrid moved up onto the tips of her toes as she walked and just barely managed to graze their chin with her lips. 

“I like you too,” she said softly. 

Ru looked down at her, startled. They examined her face again, searching it for any hint of insincerity or teasing, but Estrid merely smiled.

“It is weird,” she admitted, “considering everything we’ve gone through -- where we started...”

“...What I really am,” Ru pointed out lowly, cocking an eyebrow.

Estrid nodded. “But, well...I guess both of us were always a little weird, to begin with.”

Very slowly, Ru’s lips spread into another beautiful smile, purer and happier than ever. They moved into Estrid, leaning down enough to rest their head down on her shoulder and gently nuzzle the crook of her neck. 

“More than a little,” they whispered into her skin. 

With a light pink flush to her cheeks, Estrid secured her hold on Ru’s arm, and Ru straightened up again as she led them out. 

The pair left the pub together, perfectly unaware of how many people around them were exchanging Galleons.

Turns out that Ru and Estrid had been the subject of quite a few bets around both Hogwarts and Hogmeade village. 

[whatstheproblembaby]

Fic: Points of Contact

PG-13, 2325 words, intended to be a character study but just kind of turned into a pile of fluff and banter? /shrugs

Also on AO3.

As much as she loved a quiet meal at home with her family, Shelagh appreciated their monthly invitations to dinner at Nonnatus House. The little ones were in ecstasy, surrounded by all of their favorite adults, who had no excuses not to play with them. She herself got to enjoy a meal in which she only had to cook one of the dishes, and now that Cyril and Fred were part of the guest list, she knew that Patrick looked forward to a little time with “the lads,” as he was (unfortunately) wont to call them.

She felt a smile blossom across her face as she re-entered the dining area from the kitchen, fresh cup of tea in hand. The others had adjourned to the parlour, where they were waiting for Doctor Who to start. Patrick, Cyril, and Fred had all dragged dining chairs to the far side of the room and were chatting away animatedly, though Cyril kept turning his gaze to the television every so often, clearly not wanting to miss a moment of the show. Sister Monica Joan was on a low stool, no more than a foot of space between her and the screen. Her focus, though, was on the children, who were listening somewhat attentively to her explanation of what to expect from the programme. Violet had had to step out on council business, so Sister Julienne and Phyllis had commandeered the armchairs, leaving the rest of the nuns and nurses to pile onto the sofa or sprawl out on the surrounding floor. Shelagh scanned the space, trying to see where she could squeeze in, when a gesture between Trixie and Sister Frances stopped her cold.

Trixie had perched on the arm of the sofa, one arm draped across Sister Frances’ shoulders. Even that level of public affection was a surprise to Shelagh, who hadn’t realized that Trixie’s comfort with casual, friendly touches extended past her fellow resident midwives, but Sister Frances’ response was the real stunner.

Sister Frances leaned contentedly into Trixie’s loose embrace, tucking her head as best she could onto Trixie’s shoulder and throwing her right arm over one of Trixie’s legs. She showed no fear of being caught doing something improper - indeed, Sister Julienne looked on with a smile as Sister Hilda finished relating an anecdote and the whole sofa burst into laughter.

Shelagh felt her breath catch. She only realized she had been hovering in the doorway a little too long when a concerned “Shelagh?” came from Patrick’s side of the room.

“Forgot to add milk,” she quipped, raising her cup and hoping the laugh she added at the end sounded less forced to everyone else’s ears. She turned and headed back to the kitchen, where she rummaged through the refrigerator with unseeing eyes.

A religious Sister is holy and separate, Sister Adelaide’s voice swam up from her memories. She rejoices and mourns with the community she serves, but she is not of the community. She cannot confuse the comforts of being a sister of man with her higher purpose fulfilling God’s commands with her Sisters in Christ.

Shelagh pressed her lips together wryly as she imagined Sister Adelaide’s reaction to the current display in the parlour. She knew her former instructor in the religious life had since passed on, but she hadn’t realized quite how different the lessons for the newer Sisters would be.

“My love, are you sure you’re all right?” Patrick reached down and took her teacup, setting it on the counter before securing both of her hands in his. “You’re taking an awfully long time to add milk to your already milky tea.”

“Maybe I want the extra calcium,” Shelagh said, smiling up at him. “These old bones could use some shoring up.”

“I’m not even going to respond to that statement, in order to not incriminate myself in the process,” Patrick said with an echoing smile. The love in his eyes still caught Shelagh off-guard, even after years of marriage. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m fine, Patrick,” Shelagh said tenderly. “The times have changed, that’s all. Now, we’d better get back to the parlour before Sister Monica Joan turns all of our children into mystics and Romantic poets.”

Patrick huffed out a laugh. “You know I’m going to ask you to explain what you mean by that first statement later.”

“I will. I just need a little more time to process it for myself first.”

Shelagh noticed the sensation of Patrick’s hand on the small of her back a little more acutely than usual as he guided her back to the party, marking how he removed it once they were properly in mixed company. Later, too, she became aware of how there was always a careful space left for her amongst the women, close enough to ensure she was included, but not so small that she was nudged playfully in the shoulder or brushed by someone crossing their legs to the other side.

The warm weight of her son in her arms at the end of the evening was her anchor. Teddy was dozing off by the time they left, and May and Angela weren’t too far behind. Thankfully, Sister Julienne offered to carry Angela out to their car to keep Patrick or Shelagh from having to make two trips down the stairs.

“Thank you for inviting us to dinner. We always have such a lovely time,” Shelagh said, rocking Teddy as she waited for Patrick to settle May in the back seat of the station wagon.

“The pleasure is all ours, Shelagh,” Sister Julienne said. She reached out and squeezed Shelagh’s arm once, maternally. “You know you’re part of our family. You are always welcome here.”

Shelagh just smiled, unsure of what her voice would do if she tried to respond aloud. By then, Patrick had secured May, so she focused on getting Teddy into the car next without waking him or disturbing the girls. Once all was in order, she and Patrick wished Sister Julienne a good night and waited for her to get back inside safely before they drove off.

In the car, Patrick started to say her name, but Shelagh cut him off by sliding across the bench seat and dropping her head on his shoulder.

“Get us home, Patrick. I’ll explain once we’ve got the children squared away for the night.”

The ride home was quiet, the soft sound of the radio the only real noise as Patrick navigated the streets of Poplar. Shelagh eventually shifted so her hand was resting loosely on Patrick’s above the gear shift, to allow him to manoeuvre the car better, but she stayed close by his side as they unloaded their children and got them in bed, earning a pleased yet confused look from her husband.

“You’re tactile this evening,” he observed mildly, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they walked down the hall to their own room.

“I’m tactile plenty of evenings,” Shelagh replied, handing Patrick his pyjamas from the wardrobe before fetching her own. “I just don’t always allow myself to act on it.”

“Because of-” Patrick broke off, freeing himself from his vest before continuing, “Because of something I’ve done? Shelagh, I’m so-”

“Not because of you, Patrick,” Shelagh said decisively. “Quite the opposite, in fact. But I’m not explaining while you’re changing - I don’t want you to smother yourself with your own clothing!”

They separated long enough to get their pyjamas on and wash up for the night, giving Shelagh one last moment to collect her thoughts.

“Come here,” Patrick said when she reentered the bedroom, holding his arms open from where he sat on his side of the bed. “If you’re still allowing yourself to be tactile, that is.”

Shelagh slid under the covers and into his arms gratefully. “I’m going to try. I don’t want to display too much affection in public, but...I think I may have been holding myself to old-fashioned standards.”

Patrick just raised an eyebrow, looking down at her with curiosity.

“Tonight, at Nonnatus, I saw Trixie and Sister Frances cuddle up to each other without a second thought, and I didn’t know what to do for a moment,” Shelagh explained. “When I was a Sister, casual physical touch was not encouraged. One was supposed to focus on one’s commitment to God to find sustenance and support. Perhaps after one’s life vows, or at a funeral for another Sister, there could be a quick embrace, but on a typical day, there should be space between one and one’s Sisters on the sofa at recreation, and one should not even think about touching or embracing a layperson unless they were experiencing labor, bereavement, or a medical emergency.”

“Really?” Patrick asked. “I’ve always thought of the Sisters as the most nurturing community presence - but now that you say that, I can’t count many times I’ve seen them actually offer a hug. An encouraging squeeze of the arm, perhaps, or a parcel of food or clothing if it serves.”

“We were expected to love as God loves, of course,” Shelagh said. “But there were ways we could do that while staying ‘holy and separate.’ Or so I was taught.”

“It would appear that whichever Sister was in charge of your lessons isn’t instructing anymore.”

“No, she’s long gone, may she rest in peace. And perhaps this new embrace of - well - embracing others is more of a Nonnatus trend than a result of any teachings from the Mother House. Still, it caught me by surprise tonight.” Shelagh tucked her head into the crook of Patrick’s neck as she finished speaking.

Patrick kissed Shelagh’s temple. “Because you were uncomfortable?”

“Because I was jealous,” Shelagh replied. She closed her eyes briefly to hide her embarrassment at saying so, but when she straightened up and looked at Patrick again, she saw nothing but understanding in his eyes, emboldening her to go on. “I spent ten years of my life keeping my distance from other people, believing it was the right way to show my devotion to God and my vows to Him. Still, I saw every moment I could have hugged a frightened mother and didn’t, or every moment I refrained from comforting one of the resident nurses at Nonnatus. I didn’t even let you hold me in public for the first year of our marriage because I was afraid everyone would think I was so starved for affection that I left the church the first time a man so much as looked at me. And now the Sisters can just casually curl up with the nurses on the couch in the parlour?”

Shelagh couldn’t restrain her frustrated tears any longer. Before the first of them were even finished trickling down her cheeks, she found herself wrapped in Patrick’s arms, her head cradled against his shoulder. He murmured soothing nonsense in her ear, assuring her he was in no rush for her to pull herself back together.

“I’m sorry, Patrick, I got you soaked,” Shelagh said once she was finally able to sit upright again.

Patrick wiped her cheeks with his thumbs. “You’ve done nothing wrong. I see the reasoning behind what you were taught as a Sister, but good intent doesn’t make up for years of you suppressing instincts that are now being supported by that very same institution.”

“Thankfully, I’ve also had years to work on retraining myself,” Shelagh said, a tentative smile on her face. “You’ve been quite helpful there.”

Patrick’s forehead crinkled. “I have?”

“Maybe not in so many words, but you reached for my hand when I was still afraid to name what I was feeling for you. You wrapped me in your coat when I was lost and cold on the road back to Poplar. You’ve held me time and time again as I’ve cried without me having to say a word - not five minutes ago, even! You have shown me that physical affection can be simple, natural, and meaningful, and it doesn’t diminish the quality of our love or our professionalism.”

“And here I thought I was merely capitalizing on my chances to show my devotion to my lovely wife,” Patrick said, squeezing Shelagh’s hands where they lay in his own. “I’ll always be here if and when you reach out, Shelagh.”

“I know, Patrick. I’ve always known that.” Shelagh leaned up to kiss her husband at that. “And I’m going to let myself reach out to you and to our friends more. I don’t want to give people a show, of course, but I’ve barely let myself hold your hand in public out of concern for propriety. I think we’re still within the bounds of good taste if we go a little beyond that, don’t you?”

“I should say so,” Patrick said, pressing another kiss to Shelagh’s smile. “But I could have a hidden agenda.”

“A hidden agenda? I’m not sure what you mean,” Shelagh teased, rolling onto her back and pulling Patrick on top of her.

“Let me explain.” Patrick leaned down and proceeded to illuminate his agenda quite thoroughly, adding a few items to Shelagh’s own in the process. When they had finally finished, Shelagh curled up with her head on Patrick’s chest, feeling sleep begin to claim her.

“Somehow I don’t think I’m going to add any of what we just did to my ideas of what’s appropriate in public,” she murmured, laughing softly. “But I’m happy for some things to remain just for us.”

“There’s a time and a place for everything,” Patrick agreed.

The last thing Shelagh felt before drifting off was a light kiss to her hair, an action she was all too willing to repeat the next morning as they opened up the surgery. The almost comical look of shock on Miss Higgins’ face in result gave her another reason to keep pushing her former boundaries - after all, where else was she going to find this level of amusement?

[gaylotusthatexists]

undesirable

pairing: platonic dlampr ig? focused more on platonic logicality

summary: Logan realises that the others don’t give him physical affection as much as they do for everyone else, and conducts an experiment in order to make himself more ‘desirable’.

trigger warnings: sympathetic janus and remus, touch starvation, negative self talk, please let me know if i need to add anything else

word count: 3233 

a/n: so this idea came to me due to this thread with @5-falsehoods-phonated so i wrote this entire thing in one go last night. logan bby i am sorry. i hope y’all enjoy~

ao3 

Patton hugged him today, for... the first time in a while, Logan was pretty sure. He couldn't remember that last time he was physical with any of the other sides, preferring to keep his distance, not really feeling like he needed it. Studies had shown that physical affection was important in a human's development, and he knew how important physical affection was to Thomas himself, how people... enjoyed it? Logan wasn't human, though - he never really considered that he'd need it, that he'd want it.

Did he want it? It had felt nice, warm, comforting when Patton had hugged him earlier. Why had Patton hugged him again? Patton had been... excited, Logan was pretty sure. He thought that Logan's idea had been good, and in turn given him a hug to display that... happiness? And it hadn't been terrible, Logan supposed. Startling at first, of course, and he hadn't been quite sure on how to respond, wasn't sure what the proper hugging etiquette was. That was kind of concerning - did he really have so little hugs that he didn't even know how to react when someone gave him one? Surely he should know what to do with that. Surely he should have known how much physical touch burned, in a... good way.

He wanted to hug Patton again, but wasn't quite sure how to initiate it. Just asking for a hug would seem uncharacteristic of Logan - Patton would assume something was wrong, which wasn't true, of course, but Logan wouldn't know what to tell him. He'd hugged him after he explained his idea, so maybe just having good ideas was the way to go? But Logan put his ideas forward all the time, and they had never received that kind of response. In fact, it wasn't even his best idea, so...

Logan scooted over to his computer and opened a word document, beginning to type down his ideas for a new experiment. An attempt to figure out how physical affection worked, why it felt so good, and how he was to get it. He felt... stupid, as he typed up his hypothesis, his brain telling him he was pathetic for even wanting that, but his arms were cold and he was desperate to feel that heat again, he needed this.

~*~

Day one. Logan had stayed up late the night before, researching why people formed relationships, what it was about people that made other people want to touch them. He hadn't found any solid advice, nothing real - all just stuff about feelings, things that he didn't, couldn't understand. So instead, he decided to take the day to observe the others in action, figure out what made them initiate hugs or the like. Perhaps if he could document the behaviours and attempt to imitate them, people would find him more 'desirable' to engage with.

He hadn't realised before just how much the others touched each other. It seemed like everywhere he looked, someone was touching another. Roman and Virgil curled up on the sofa watching movies, Patton and Janus making cookies in the kitchen with their shoulders touching. Why was it that whenever Logan did those activities, everyone kept their distance? He occasionally would watch documentaries with Virgil, those David Attenborough ones that Virgil said helped to 'calm' him, but Virgil had never tried to cuddle Logan on those nights. And then when Logan cooked dinner with Patton or Janus, they always stayed on their own side of the kitchen, nowhere near close enough to just casually touch.

That got him thinking - was there something wrong with Logan himself? Was it something about him that just... made the others not want to go near him?

Perhaps Logan needed to change a lot more than just his behaviour, if that was the case.

From his spot on the couch, he looked over at Remus and Janus standing by the stairs, Remus telling some sort of joke. Janus started laughing, and placed a hand on Remus' shoulder. They got closer and closer until they were hugging, and Logan felt... something, deep in his chest. Anger? Sadness?

Jealousy?

No, no, Logan had never been jealous before, had he?

He looked away, glancing into the kitchen. Virgil sat on the side with his legs swinging back and forth, and Patton stood between them, his arms wrapped around Virgil's waist. They looked happy, which just made Logan feel awful. Then he looked at Roman on the sofa with him, shuffled all the way to the other side, eyes fixed on the tv screen, not even thinking about Logan. Which just filled Logan with... rage.

Logan stood up and stormed upstairs, pushing past Remus and Janus and, in doing so, brushing against Remus' hand. He loved it. He wanted to reached down and grip Remus' hand tight, twist their fingers together, but... he couldn't. He ignored the concerned stares from the others as he went into his room, slamming his door shut.

~*~

Logan tried to research more, but all the stuff he could find was on abstract emotions, things that didn't quite make sense and Logan couldn't just do. So, he decided to try a different strategy. From the parts of the research he did understand, he had gathered that people tended to be physical with those they found attractive, so perhaps if Logan made himself appear more attractive, the other sides would be more inclined to perform physical acts with him.

What was it about a person that made them attractive?

Logan tried to think about who he found attractive, but that proved to be difficult. He then tried to think about who Thomas found attractive, but that wasn't much help, as Thomas himself didn't look much like any of his celebrity crushes. Logan supposed he could always shape-shift, but that seemed... wrong, manipulative, like he was tricking the others. No, no, he needed a different approach.

Maybe he needed to be more like what the others found attractive?

Humming, Logan grabbed his recorder and left his room, heading down into the commons. An interview would be a good idea, valuable to his research. Who to interview, though...

Patton was in the kitchen, preparing dinner. None of the others were in sight. Okay, Patton it was.

~*~

Interview One. Date: July Seventeenth. Subject: Patton Sanders.

Uh, do you have to-

The recording is important evidence for my research, Patton.

...okay. What exactly are you researching?

I can't tell you that, or the data may come out false. This needs to be unbiased.

Alright then. Be quick, though. I need to keep an eye on the cooking.

Of course. Question one: on a physical level, what do you find attractive in another person?

...

Answer the question, please, Patton.

Uh, I don't know. Everyone is beautiful in their own way.

Yes, but is there anything specific?

I don't know. I like people who can make me laugh?

...that isn't a physical quality.

Well, the 'physical qualities' don't really matter that much. I mean, I guess there are some people I find prettier than others, but really it's the personality that matters more.

Hmm. Interesting.

Why are you asking this?

I told you before, it's for science.

Do you... need to talk?

No, Patton, I'm-

You look rather pale, are you okay?

I- I think I'll end the interview here.

~*~

That had been a complete waste of time, Logan realised. Personality? How was Logan supposed to change his personality? He could easily make himself more physically attractive, it was fairly simple to alter one's body or change their hair style, or, in Logan's case, shape-shift into the perfect man, but... changing his personality in general was a lot more difficult.

And... it got him thinking, sent his mind to places he'd rather not go. Was he really that undesirable? Just because of the way he was as a person? Did Patton rarely give him affection because he just hated him so much?

Something wet dripped down Logan's cheek. Frowning, he looked up, but saw no signs of a leak or any water above. And he wasn't sweating or anything, so...

Was that a tear? That didn't sound right. Logan had never cried before. And he wasn't sad, was he?

Perhaps he just needed a different test subject. Chances were, Patton was just an anomaly. He must be able to get more concise, useful data somewhere else, right?

~*~

Interview Two. Date: July Eighteenth. Subject: Roman Sanders.

Can we make this quick? Thomas really needs my help with this new video idea-

Of course, I only have a few questions. Firstly: what do you find most important, appearance or personality?

Uhh... that kinda depends? Are we talking about what I look for in a romantic partner?

...sure, if you want to think of it that way.

Well, appearance obviously plays a big part, although if I don't like someone as a person I'm not going to get in a relationship with them, you know?

So, what you're saying is they're... equally important?

Yeah, I guess.

Huh. Alright, second question: what do you find physically attractive in a guy?

Oh! Oh, there's... actually a lot, there. The eyes are what I first look at, usually. And the hair. Oh, and muscles! Big strong lads are great. But not, like, aggressively muscular. Like, a soft side is nice too. Fashion is a big thing as well, I guess. Like, guys in crop tops? Amazing. Tanks tops as well - it's the arms, I think.

Interesting. So... a fit person?

Sure. I mean, it's not super important, but like if someone clearly frequents the gym, they've caught my eye, y'know?

Alright. Thank you. Uh, final question: what do you find attractive in someone's personality, if anything?

...hmm. Well, someone who shares the same interests, I suppose. Y'know, someone I can talk to. Good humour. Confidence.

Confidence?

Yeah. Like, I like it when a person knows what they're doing, when it seems as though they aren't afraid of anything.

Oh.

Is there any reasons for these question?

No, no reason in particular. Just... for science.

~*~

It had been several weeks since his conversation with Roman, during which Logan had been working out every day, using Roman's old gym in the Imagination, mostly running on the treadmill and lifting weights - weights more often, as Roman had stressed the important of arms. He'd also talked to a couple of the others, who had essentially given the same opinions as Roman - in particular, Virgil had gone on about how a sense of style helped, and Remus had explained more about the muscle situation.

Nothing much had seemed to change, though. Logan had attempted to change how he presented himself, even taking off his tie some days in an attempt to make himself look less serious. He had considered investing in some crop tops, but couldn't imagine himself wearing anything not tucked in, so that idea was quickly abandoned. Then he thought about stealing some of Remus' tank tops - and even had, briefly, only to discover that he just looked uncomfortable, plus he had begun to smell like Remus which was certainly less than desirable. He'd even tried walking around shirtless one morning, but that had only earned him a couple of weird stares, confusion, concern.

He'd experimented more and more with his appearance, changing his hair style every few days, wearing different coloured contacts in his eyes, even wearing makeup a few times to see if that did anything. But still nothing. The other sides still kept far, far away from him, just like they always did. He didn't understand what he was doing wrong.

It did occur to him a few times that he could just ask the others to give him a hug. Patton would probably comply, even if it was just out of pity. But then that wouldn't prove anything, wouldn't change anything. And there was always the chance that they'd say no, and... Logan wasn't sure if he could handle that. He already suspected that the others thought he was undesirable, but hearing it would be different. Strange, he'd never been afraid of rejection before.

~*~

Date: August Fifth. Subject: Patton Sanders. Objective: physical affection.

I am aware that this is a bad idea, but it is pivotal to my research that I at least attempt. Worst case scenario, Patton explains that he's too busy, and we never have to speak of this again. Best case scenario, I finally get that 'hug' that I've been... craving? I believe that's the word, although I will make a note here to look it up later. I am now approaching the kitchen, where Patton is preparing dinner alone. My recorder will be placed in my pocket, as holding it may make the experiment more troublesome, I hope the audio will not be too muffled.

Oh, hey Logan!

Good evening, Patton. I'm...

Are you alright?

Yes, of course. I'm just- doing that experiment still, and need more data.

Oh, of course! Do you have more questions? I just put our food in the oven, so I have time to talk if you want to.

Um, it's- I don't really need to ask any more 'questions', per se, just...

...what is it, Logan? You look nervous, do you-

I'm fine. I- [deep breath] Would you be willing to engage in... physical contact, with me? A, uh... y'know-

...are you asking me to hug you?

Yes. If- If that's okay with you. If not, that's fine, but it would helpful for my research. Although I- I can leave, if you want me to, of course. It's- I have enough verbal data to complete the experiment regardless.

...

...

Logan, can I... Can I ask you something, instead?

Uhm, yeah, sure.

What exactly is your experiment about?

...

Logan?

I have to go.

~*~

Logan laid in his bed, staring up at the ceiling and hugging himself, clutching on tightly to his shoulders. He couldn't stop himself from crying, and he didn't know why, didn't understand what was going on with him. It wasn't as though Patton had rejected him. Just... maybe he was beginning to realise just how stupid this whole experiment was. It wasn't as if he could force the others to like him. He should've just asked in the first place, then... then maybe it wouldn't have gone this far.

He didn't understand what he was doing wrong. He'd tried everything he could think of, but nothing worked. He'd tried every combination of different appearances, tried to act differently around different people - more confident in front of Roman, more sensitive in front of Virgil, more friendly in front of Patton. Still, nothing. Nothing had changed, and nothing was going to change. This had all been a waste.

Logan took out his recorder and listened back to his logs, to the interviews, to his two am rambles, trying to figure out if there was anything that he was missing, any detail he'd forgotten about. Then he moved to his laptop and scrolled through his document, checked through all of his data, all of his calculations, but still couldn't find a single thing wrong. Perhaps he just needed to admit the fact that he was undesirable, unloveable. There was nothing that could change that, nothing that could make him better.

This was fine. It wasn't as if he needed it - he'd gone on this long without it before, he could cope with never having it at all. Couldn't really miss what he'd never had.

~*~

Date: August Seventh. Subject: ...I'm not sure yet. Logan Sanders, possibly? Or everyone. We'll see how this goes. Objective: ...I don't know.

I haven't left my room since the encounter with Patton in my last recording, although have been communicating with the others via text. They have asked me to join them in the commons for a talk. What this is about, I have no idea, but I will record it just in case, for future reference.

...

...

...

Logan!

Good evening, Patton. (I am now sitting down on the couch. All five other sides are here, and they look... concerned?)

What are you doing with that?

I'm just recording this conversation for future reference. You know, the experiment and all.

Yeah, about that. I- We'd like to talk to you about that.

You... would? (Patton seems to be taking charge of the conversation, but the others are all staring at me, intensely.)

I- I did ask the other day and you didn't respond but... what is the experiment about? We're... all a little worried, in all honesty.

(Interesting.) Why are you worried?

... You've been acting weirdly recently, Logan. You have to admit that.

(He's not wrong. That was a fear when I first started the experiment. Perhaps I should start again.)

Logan, can you stop talking to your recorder and just... listen to us? Tell us what's wrong?

There isn't anything wrong. I told you, this is all purely for science.

What's the experiment about?

I... (I'll have to start the experiment over again anyway, as it so clearly failed. New test subjects with therefore be required. Due to this, there is nothing wrong with telling everybody now.) I realised that... out of all six of us, you guys seem to come to me the least for acts of physical affections, if you come to me at all, so I wanted to understand why, and attempt to change myself to better fit to your standards required for wanting to participate in physical relationships with others. I... was attempting to make myself more 'compatible', I guess. More desirable.

...

...Patton?

...

Patton, are you crying? Did I say something wrong?

...Logan, can you turn off the recording?

~*~

Logan sat in the middle of the couch, with the other five surrounding him, engulfing him in a 'cuddle pile', as Patton had called it. It was nice, he decided. Warm. He wasn't quite sure what he was meant to do, but was grateful for the warmth of skin to skin contact, for the safety he felt as the others wrapped their arms around him. Why had he never done this before? Was it that he never wanted to, or... was it that he never asked?

Patton had tried to explain that they all tried to keep their distance from Logan because they thought that was what he wanted, that he'd be uncomfortable with hugs all the time. Logan had tried to explain back that, yes, in the past he hadn't quite understood the appeal of physical affection, but had since began to 'crave' it, to want it more than anything. Patton had asked why he hadn't just asked the others to hug him, and Logan had answered that he didn't know how to ask, or didn't want to sound desperate. Then Patton had reassured him that there was nothing wrong was wanting to be touched, and that he didn't need to be afraid to ask for it if he needed that. He'd told Logan that there was nothing Logan needed to change about himself - they all liked him just the way he was.

The experiment had been... successful, in a roundabout way. He'd achieved physical affection, at least? Although all that research had been for nothing. It wasn't as though he hadn't learned anything, though. He learned that... it was okay to ask, it didn't make him weak or pathetic or desperate. He wasn't undesirable. And the others weren't going to let go.

[harmofud]

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937) Review

Let's embark upon this journey with a foray into one of the first animated movies ever: Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. Note that I did not say the first; that award goes to a lost film called Creation, created in 1915. In fact, there were several other animated feature length films done before Snow White, but undeniably Snow White is by far the most popular and well known of these early films, as well as one of the few remaining from that era. As far as firsts go though, it was the first cell animated feature, so there's that.

With a rocky production, Snow White went on to become hailed by some (notably Einstein himself) as the greatest film ever created, an artistic masterpiece, and a new era of entertainment. But does it still measure up?

Yes.

Yes it does.

I know I'm not reviewing this to try and convince audiences one way or another of whether or not this movie is good. It came out in 1937, and I was born approximately 60-ish years later. Spoiling this movie would be akin to saying, "Oh no, the milk's gone bad" about cheese. I'm merely reviewing it because I watched it recently and would like to get my thoughts about it out there.

I somewhat expected something lesser, I suppose. It's been almost 85 years since it came out, and animation has changed so dramatically. Snow White is lauded as this profoundly fantastic masterpiece, so hyped up that it's astounding that the actual movie still measures up. If you're going into it expecting a complex plot, intricate detail in the characters and how they act, someone you can relate to… drop those expectations. You aren't going to find it here.

However, if you go into it expecting a fairy tale, a fantastic musical score, buttery smooth animation (especially for the time oh my god), and the most detailed backgrounds I've ever seen in animation so far, then you will be highly pleased. Hell, you'll probably be highly pleased anyways; I couldn't stop smiling whenever the dwarves were on screen. I don't know why they're so ridiculous, but that feels like the full expression of 'Boys will be boys'. Just the lads dunking another lad in water, just the lads playing music and singing after dinner. It's just the lads!

Of course, Snow White herself, Prince Charming, and the evil queen are all pretty basic, but it works in the context of fairy tales. That's another thing about this movie: it feels timeless. I don't say that lightly. I am aware this is my first post on here, I promise you won't hear me say that about everything; most things are dated somehow. The costumes, even though they are most likely inspired by the clothes of the era, are fantastical, so it doesn't matter if they don't match outfits of the future. It's a fairy tale after all. Everything that would date it (how women interact in the home, for example) is removed because of how Snow White lacks a third dimension. Her 2D personality (and the personality of all the characters, for that matter. I mean, c'mon, the dwarves are literally named after their biggest character trait) actually works in this instance because the story isn't that deep. It's just supposed to be fun.

I keep saying the plot is basic. If summed up into one sentence: The princess Snow White is hunted down by her evil queen step-mother for being too beautiful, she meets some funky little men in the forest, and she falls in love with a charming prince. I typically don't really enjoy stories like this; it's too simple almost. But again, the simplicity works in its favor this time. It allowed them to focus more on the concept of a 1 and a half hour long music video for an orchestra. There are of course the songs that everyone knows, but they mesh pretty well with the background music. The music never stops by the way. I think there were maybe one or two silent moments in the entire movie, and everything was timed to the background music. It's really cool and interesting to see.

Hey, about those backgrounds? Let's talk about those backgrounds. Oh my god, those backgrounds. They're detailed in ways that you just don't see now. True, a background in a modern animated film might be detailed in the sense that there is a lot of moving parts to it, and that is a unique sort of art in and of itself; however, these backgrounds are detailed like paintings. Stunning, incredible paintings. And, for the most part, the animated characters mesh surprisingly well! I expected worse.

I did have one major complaint. The ending sucks. Oh man, it's so fast. Blink and you'll miss it fast. Look down to fold some laundry, look up, and now you're not entirely sure what's going on fast. It felt like it should have ended with Snow White eating the poisoned apple and falling into a magic coma. I don't think I would have liked it to end there, but that's where it felt like the natural conclusion was. It feels like someone in the production team said, "WAIT WAIT WAIT GUYS WE CAN'T END IT THERE!" so they added in 2 minutes of extra content to round it out right at the end of production. I know that's how the original Grimm story ended, but still. I complain, even if it's nonsensical.

Overall, I think this is a pretty S-tier film. A pioneer in entertainment, exceedingly fun to watch, and delightfully unique even by today's standards. Even the poor ending can't shake me.

Next: Pinocchio

[imagine-that-100]

Holiday | Part  18 |

Description of Part 1: Alex Turner x Reader (Female) | You’ve been friends with Alex Turner and the other boys from Arctic Monkeys since you were 13. You never for a second thought that Alex would release a song about you though. From late night phone calls and almost constant texting and teasing, you’ve managed to stay close with him over the years. When a pact is established and a holiday is arranged, life seems to be treating you very well. But a month in LA will either make or break you.

Word Count: 13.2K

Warnings: Mentions of Coronavirus, and a shit load of FLUFF!!!

A/N: So this is it. I can’t believe it. 18 weeks you have all stood by this fic and I can’t thank you all enough. You all literally make my Friday’s so much brighter because I get to see your reactions to this silly little story I’ve created. Thank you so so so so much for sticking by it. And thank you to the people who have edited for me many a time. I love you lots. I really hope everyone enjoys the last part, but I promise it’s not the last you’ll see of Alex fics on this account.

Thank you all a million for reading x

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

| MASTERLIST IN BIO | 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

~*~*~*~ January 2020 ~*~*~*~

“Y/N Y/N Y/N YN!” You hear Alex yelling from upstairs.

You were in the kitchen preparing dinner, but hearing him yelling your name, you abandoned what you were doing to see if everything was okay.

“What’s wrong?” You ask worriedly as you turn the corner into the lounge.

When you do though, you see Alex running down the stairs with a massive smile on his face. So then, and only then, when you see he’s okay, do you relax.

He is completely beaming when he sees you and he runs straight to you, picking you up in the process, and then spinning you around several times in his arms. You squeal and throw your arms around his shoulders, so you feel more stable and giggle.

Moments like these were more uncommon than you may think.

Alex was rarely so excited about something. Especially to the point where he would be so overwhelmed by emotion that he just embraced you and was practically jumping for joy.    

“What’s happening?” You laugh as he slows his spinning down and returns you back to the ground.

“I’m freaking the fuck out” Alex laughs to himself before releasing you to run his hands though his now shorter hair.

He was still grinning at you as he looked at you dazed, as if something wasn’t real.

“Why? What?” You ask also with a smile.

You loved seeing him this happy. And it was obviously something really good for him to be this excited.

“Oh my god” Alex says more to himself in glee, his fingers trailing down to his jaw to give it a disbelieving scratch.

That was a habit he still hadn’t quite shifted since he’d shaved off his goatee. Something which still made you smile when he didn’t realise, he was doing it.

Alex begins to explain by asking you, “You know how you were excited for Catfish’s new album last year?”

“Yeah” You nod.

You were actually a psycho when they announced their new album last year. You booked every ticket you could to go and see them over here.

Since Y/B/F had moved over at the beginning of last year, you’d been doing everything together. And the fact that you both got to go and see one of your favourite bands together in California was amazing.

You both went to all 3 of their dates that they had over here. Two of the shows you were both in the pit for and one of them you got to watch from the side of the stage because Alex and Matt had gone with you.

Which both of the lads loved because they were both forced to listen to their music that often that they knew all the songs.

You were over the moon when Y/B/F came and moved over to LA. You knew she’d always wanted to do it. It was one of her things on her To Do list.

So, when things became serious between her and Matt, she decided to live her dream. And you loved it.

Breana was fine with their relationship and they both got on well with each other still. And both Y/B/F and Breana’s boyfriend really loved Amelia as well, so they ended up being a big happy family.

And you and Alex as godparents were happily there to support them when they needed it.

Alex then practically jumps in his spot saying, “Well picture that but ten times more intense”

You grin at him, loving his energy, “Why? Who’s releasing an album? You don’t like anyone that much who’s not on a hiatus”

“Unless it was one band in particular” Alex hints very heavily with his eyes as to who it might be.

“No” You gasp, a hand coming up to cover your mouth.

He nods his head frantically, “Yes”

“Oh my fucking god” You say now just as excited and jump into his arms.

You throw your arms around Alex’s neck and squeal. You couldn’t believe The Strokes were making a new album.

“I know” Alex said wrapping his arms around your back.

“Oh my god Alex, I’m so excited” You practically yell down his ear.

He laughs and squeeze you the tiniest bit tighter when you start practically jumping in his arms. He knew you’d be just as excited.

“This means new music and a tour” You say down his ear before releasing him so he can look at you and see the excitement on your face, “And oh my fucking god I’m so excited”

“How did you find out?” You ask, releasing him completely and feeling the need to sit on the settee.

Alex smiles as he watches you take a second to let the news sink in.

Then he begins to explain, “I just got off the phone with Julian. Was asking me something about Tranquility Base and then he told me they have just finished recording. He’s gunna send us a copy”

“You’re joking” You say not quite believing him.

He smiles and shakes his head at you.

“Alex, I’m going to cry” You say covering your mouth.

This news was unbelievable. You couldn’t wait, you were just too excited.

“You’re gunna cry Hun, this is my fucking dream” Alex said before joining you on the sofa and hugging you again.

You giggle when he does that and hug him back. He pushes you both down onto the settee, so you’re lay back on it trapped in a hug.  

“We can both cry together when it comes” You giggle.

Alex brings his head up to look at you smiles down at you softly telling you, “Y/N/N I’m so so so fucking excited”

“Same” You grin back.

You would definitely never get tired looking into those chocolate eyes. You trace your fingertip along his jaw and get lost in his features for a moment.

His fluffy brown hair flops down over his forehead and tickles your forehead. Your eyes dance across his smooth skin and the way he smiles at you, those pink lips pulled into a grin.

Your eyes trailed back up to his and you got lost in those for another second, until his lips met yours.

~*~*~*~ March 2020 ~*~*~*~

“Hey Y/N?” Alex asks you, walking into the lounge from the kitchen.

“Yeah?” You ask looking away from the worrying TV screen that showed things getting worse with the pandemic.

Alex comes and sits down next to you as he says, “Question that I want to ask you”

“Ooo okay, go on” You ask him, seeing that he’s got his phone in his hand.

He runs a hand through his hair, something that was a tell of his for when he was stressed or worried.

He begins to tell you, “The whole world is about to shut down with this Corona shit, and so it should because the government need to keep people safe”

“Yeah I know, Trump is a fucking moron shutting people down who are asking about it” You shake your head looking towards the TV.  

“Yeah” Alex agrees, “Which is the reason why I was wondering if you wanted to go back home?” He asks.

You weren’t quite expecting that, but you ask, “When?”

“Like tomorrow?” He suggests.

Now that did shock you.

“Until when?” You ask slightly wide eyed.

“At the very least until this all passes over. I think we’ll be safer back home than we are over here” Alex says taking your hand in his.

You think about it for a second and nod.

That was probably a good idea, “Now you mention it, that actually sounds like a good idea”

“Yeah and I can’t help but think, if someone in our families gets it and we can’t get a flight over there because they have introduced lockdown, for the very least socially distanced support, it would be a mistake” Alex says giving your hand a squeeze.

“Yeah, you’re right” You nod with a little smile.

“Do you want me to book the flight?” You ask him.

Alex smiles at your offer but then tells you, “Well, that’s why I’m asking now really… Carl wants to take his plane back home and I know we both don’t agree with private flying but if it gets us home safely and with minimal contact I’ll do it one more time. Rather have someone on it than no one on it if it’s gunna fly anyway”

Carl was a pilot of a private jet, from the UK, that the Monkeys had been on many a time, until the boys decided that they didn’t want to use private travel anymore. They didn’t want aid into the destruction of the environment, so they made the decision to fly on normal planes again.

You think it over for a second before agreeing, “Okay. I won’t hold it against anyone this time”

“Right, I’ll ring him now then” Alex says standing up and looking down at his phone again.

You stand too and say, “I’ll go start to pack. Anything you particularly want to take with you?”

Alex shakes his head not really knowing what he wanted to take, “Just as much as we can because I think we’re gunna be there for a while”

You nod and smile, even more so when a thought pops into your head, “Can we start making the house a bit homier when we get back?”

After Y/B/F decided that she wanted to move to LA, she wanted to sell the flat back home. Which was perfectly fine by you, but it meant that all your stuff in there had to be moved somewhere.

And because you and Alex had talked about moving back there in the future, you’d both decided to get a house over there to eventually move into and make your own. It was a lovely house and you’d yet to stay there so you were really excited at the thought of going back.

“We could go to B&Q and get stuff to decorate before they put us all in lockdown?” You grin at him

“I love that idea” Alex says pulling you into his body, arms wrapped around you as you stood looking up at his pretty face.

He continues sarcastically, “But are you gunna help me paint or make me do it all?”

You giggle a little before saying, “I might help you… If you’re nice to me”

Alex just laughs and kisses your nose.

~*~*~*~

You both ended up flying back the second week into March, which was great because work had practically stopped anyway as you’d all been instructed to work from home.

And because you’d informed them that you were going back to the UK to ‘be with family’, they had given you the option to transfer onto a team for the same company over in the UK. That was if you wanted to anyway.

And seeing as you’d currently nearly finished your last one back in the US you thought it would be a good idea, considering you didn’t know how long you were going to be back for. You were just thankful it was a very lenient company and treated its staff well.

When you got back the first thing you did was go and see your families, making sure to be extra careful and considerate around each other and keeping your distance from them when you could.

Both you and Alex, weren’t stupid. You knew your parents were in the age brackets that meant that if they contracted the virus it could be dangerous to them.

So, you were both extremely careful.  

You were also careful when you went around the shops to get colours so you could start decorating your house.

You’d both god a really lovely house in Sheffield. It was definitely a posh one for the area and was a bit out of the way, so you had the privacy you both desired.

But by god you loved it.

It was pretty much all open plan downstairs. A concept which you fell in love with since living in LA in the house over there.

The house was a detached one that from the outside looked a little dated but was completely modernised inside. It was like stepping into a time machine.

From the outside it looked like a country house with the old stone bricks, with bits of Ivy trailing up the side of the house, but when you entered you felt like you were completely up to date on all the modern technology. Something which mesmerised the both of you when you initially looked around it.  

You just remembered wondering around it with a really good feeling in your stomach the whole time. Everything about it you loved.

Especially when you went outside into the back garden as when you turned to look at the house from the back you wouldn’t even guess it was the same place. The stone bricks still covered the place except for the wall of bi-folding windows at the back which overlooked Sheffield, so you still got to see the twinkling lights of the city.

The garden was huge too, which meant that Zoe could run around it all she wanted. And being the age of 9 you could imagine she’d want to do that a lot, especially with her new little brother Lucas also starting to find his feet now.

Inside the house, there were five bedrooms, which both of you knew you wouldn’t need so you planned on turning one into an office and one of them maybe a home gym. It also had a loft conversation too, so Alex had already claimed that as his music room, which you had no complaints about.

But you couldn’t wait to decorate when you got back, as the house had been painted boring plain colours to try and make it more appealing to buyers.

And it was lucky that you both went shopping for the paint when you did too, because two weeks later the National Lockdown was introduced and the whole country basically stopped. You were furloughed from work because there were less things needing to be done and Alex was furloughed too because it wasn’t like he could meet up with the other lads and create an album with them.

It was a weird time the first few months of Lockdown. It did get to you sometimes when you thought about it. You wanted more than anything to give your Mum and Dad a hug but unfortunately you couldn’t.

But you were thankful you had Alex to keep you sane throughout everything. He always had a distraction for you when you needed one, and he liked to keep you busy.

Especially when it came to the painting.

One of the days about a week into lockdown, you were unpacking stuff that you’d had shipped over from the US and as you did that you were listening to Tranquility Base. The reason being that you found it quite relaxing to listen to when you were doing stuff around the house.

That and you loved Alex’s voice with the entirety of your heart.

She Looks Like Fun was playing into your AirPods and Alex could hear you singing along from in the hall where you’d got him painting. He could never get tired of you singing his songs.


He really liked that he had his biggest fan by his side through thick and thin.

He noticed that you stopped singing loudly when it came to the bridge of the song though. And then he heard you gasp.

Alex paid no attention too it though, just thinking that you’d found something you’d been looking for whilst unpacking. However, you’d found something a lot more interesting.

You walked out of the room you were in and Alex looked towards you as you ventured closer to him.

“Alex did you predict this fucking apocalypse?” You ask him with a smile.

He looks towards you and sees you in your baggy painting clothes, with your AirPods still in. You must have paused them because you heard him fine when he replied.

“What the fuck you on about now?” He chuckles.

“In She Looks Like Fun you literally sing, ‘No one’s on the streets, we moved it all online as of March’” You explain.

And it baffled you because that was exactly what had happened. Everyone was now getting their shopping online, a lot less people were out in the city and loads of people were staying at home, where the government had asked them to be.

“Shit. Maybe I did” Alex laughed recognising that his lyrics actually

“Why didn’t you warn us?” You chuckle before making him abandon his paint brush so he would hug you.

He looked so adorable. He had that fine paint splatter across his face and a little of it in his hair. Even when he wasn’t perfect, he still was. God you loved him.

“I did apparently… About two years ago” Alex cheekily grinned at you as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against him.


You pat his chest and smile back at the fluffy haired man.

“Congratulations, you’re a prophet” You quote Dr Strange in Infinity War and Alex picks up on it straight away.

He shakes his head at you before saying the next quote in a serious voice, “I’m a survivor”

You just giggle though at how nerdy you were both being, and sarcastically say, ruining it, “Yeah, you’re a survivor because we haven’t left the house in a week”

“And because we have a shit load of hand sanitiser” He grins at you and you laugh agreeing.

“Do you think Thanos snapped his fingers and that’s why we’re in this shit?” You wonder out loud.

“Maybe maybe” Alex ponders for a second before entertaining your theory, “Need the Avengers to come save us”

“I’ll have Chris Hemsworth come save me please” You say a little too fast, but Alex nods his head approvingly.

“As long as Chris Evans can save me. That man his built like a brick shit house” Alex says appreciating the Avengers physique in his mind.

“They both are” You laugh, and he nods down at you.

“But don’t think you’re doing so bad yourself” You say before bringing your hands up to the top of his arms and having a good squeeze.

Alex shakes his head at you, “My arms are nowhere near the size of theirs”

“Not saying they are, but you literally went from being pre-serum Steve Rogers to Captain America” You tell him.

It was true though, he used to be a lanky skinny boy, and now he’s got huge muscles and you really really liked looking at them.

Touching, kissing, biting and licking them too.

“Are you saying I’m Captain America?” Alex asked you with a cheeky smile and a raised eyebrow.

You giggle a little, “I’m saying I really like my own personal version of Captain America”

“I know you do” Alex grinned, and you couldn’t help yourself but to lean up and kiss him.

You tried to carry it on, but Alex was having none of it. He pulled away and said, “Come on. We can kiss and actually watch Captain America later on when we finish painting”

“Fine” You pout, and he leans down to kiss it away.

And you both continued to make your new house into a proper home.  

You couldn’t wait to live with him properly back here in Sheffield. The time you’d spent with him in your flat with him was amazing.

So, with even more space, in your own house, you just knew it would be 10 times better. And so far, it was proving to be.

But in your heart, you knew that it didn’t matter where in the world you were with him. It didn’t matter if there was a danger out there that tried to pry you both apart.

And you’d be forever grateful that you gone on holiday and realised the most important thing.

That as long as you had him by your side, you’d feel wanted and safe, because you were home.

Alex was your home.

~*~*~*~ July 2020 ~*~*~*~

You start giggling to yourself for a solid minute before asking Alex, “Al, have you seen this meme?

You’d just sat down on the floor and stopped painting the skirting boards in the living room.

You’d both been painting for hours. Today you’d both painted the large walls in your lounge, and it was a pain because of the number of coats that you had to do on it.

Thankfully you’d finished the last coat of paint on the walls and you’d started the glossing. But it was killing your back, so you decided a break was necessary.

You were both so lazy when it came to the decorating too. You’d go through one room at a time, first painting it, then ordering the things to furnish it, and then set everything up before you moved onto the next room.

And then you would have about two weeks break in between the rooms because your job was now staggering the furlough, and the working from home. So that was the reason why you were both still decorating 4 months after moving in properly.

That, and because you weren’t horrible enough to leave Alex doing it himself. So, whilst you were working in your office that was freshly decorated, you sent him upstairs to make music.

Something which he was doing so effortlessly, and you adored everything he showed you.

“Which meme?” Alex asks you as he continues to paint. “You tweet a lot of them”

“The one that says, ‘There will be a minor baby boom in nine months, and then one day in 2033, we shall witness the rise of the Quarenteens’” You laugh to yourself.

“Amazing” Alex says with a smile, abandoning his paintbrush to come and sit down opposite you.

“I know it made me giggle” You say as you continue scrolling through your phone as Alex picks up his cup of tea that’s probably gone cold.

He doesn’t seem bothered by the temperature though and downs the rest of it in one before abandoning the mug.

He sits cross-legged in front of you, both of you sat on the sheet that you were using to keep paint from spilling onto your carpet. Something which was going well so far but you had to be careful where you sat in your scruffy clothes, because you didn’t want to get paint on your new settee’s either.

“I have a question for you” Alex announces, grabbing your attention again.

You look up from your phone and smile, “Okay”

“So, I’ve been thinking…” Alex begins but your interrupt.

“Oh no. That’s never good” You grin as you lock your phone and out it down beside you.  

“Will you ever stop undermining me using that joke?” Alex shakes his head at you, trying to hide that he found you funny.  

“Al, you know I’m joking“ You say feeling a little bad.

But only a little.

“Mhhh” He hums at you in sarcastic disbelief.

“Yeah I know” He mumbles before leaning towards you to kiss you.  

“I love you” You say quickly before his mouth attached to yours.

You wanted to stay in his good books, despite knowing you were never out of them.

His lips catch yours as he mumbles against them, “I love you too”

Alex plants a good kiss onto your soft lips then and you smile up at him when he pulls away. He can’t quite get the smile off his face either.

You loved that you still had stupid banter with each other after 5 years together. It was one of the many things that kept your relationship alive and fun. You were just glad he still loved you whilst you looked like a tramp like you currently did.

You were wearing one of your very old baggy grey tops that had holes in it, along with some black leggings. Both were covered in various paint splatters of different colours and you were fairly certain your hair, that was in a messy bun, had some paint in it too.

Yet when you looked at Alex, who wore old joggers with holes in it and a plain black top that also had paint on it, you still thought he looked incredibly attractive. Even with the little bits of paint that were in his hair, he was still breath-taking.

Alex takes your paint splattered hands in his and you smile at each other for a good few seconds, before he asked you his question.

“Okay… So, you know how we talked about kids?” He asked you.  

You nodded, “Yeah?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to maybe start trying?” Alex softly smiled at you, whilst rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.

“You’re very on topic aren’t you” You can’t help but smile and shuffle closer to him.

Alex laughs a little at that. “Well you know, when the opportunity arises…” He trails off looking into your Y/E/C eyes.

“What’s brought this on?” You ask him curiously.  

“Nothing” Alex shakes his head honestly, “I was just thinking… There’s no better time than a lockdown to start trying properly is there?”

“Well, you’re not wrong” You laugh.

You couldn’t lie, being stuck in the house together meant that you often found yourselves entangled with the other. You didn’t know whether it was the two of you just being constantly bored or horny.

Maybe it was both.

But he was right, now lockdown was less restrictive in the UK, trying to get pregnant didn’t feel as scary as it may have done a few months ago if it was brought up then.

Of course, you’d talked about it before now though. And you were both just waiting for the right moment to make the decision.

And you were happy it had just presented itself.

You needed to ask him though, “If we do get pregnant though, are you still okay with staying here permanently?”

When you’d talked about it before, you’d both come to the agreement that if and when you were planning to start a family, you would both move back home. But now you were already back here, you just wanted to double check that he was still alright with that.

Alex nods with a smile, “Of course… It’s time to stay home anyway. I think I’ve been away far too long”

“Yeah I think you have too” You giggle before kissing him.

He can’t quite get the grin off his face when he kisses you back. He was so happy you were on the same page as him.

Alex couldn’t wait to start a family with you.

“Thank you though” You smile brightly when you pull away, you keep your hands cupping his neck though to keep him close. “I just don’t think I could do it without my Mum and our families around to help”

“You’ll be a great Mum. You already look after me” Alex assures you which makes your heart swell.

“Yeah, to be honest, a baby would probably be easier to manage” You giggle as you twirl the hair at the nape of his neck.

He laughs at you then before leaning to kiss you once more. Something which in the 5 years with him still never got old.

“So maybe in like a few months, I’ll stop taking my pill then?” You suggest when you pull away.

You continue with, “Just because I don’t wanna get pregnant first go and then be stuck inside pregnant for months if they restrict lockdown again… I don’t think that would really be very clever or safe. For anyone. Especially a baby”

“Sounds good to me” Alex agrees “We’ll have this house ready and waiting for the housewarming by the time lockdowns over anyway”

“I still can’t believe you have two houses” You say looking around the stunning room you were in, and then out of the large windows that showed the sun setting over Sheffield.

Alex takes your attention again though, scorning you, “Y/N, it’s nearly been five years. We have two houses and this one is definitely yours”

Despite Alex suggesting that you were going to leave him to do the painting, you were actually the one who’d done most of it. You were also the one that had found most of the decor online and just asked Alex for his approval on them.

This house was truly yours. You thought something like the house in LA would be your dream, but no, something which both you and Alex created for yourselves was.

“You know what I mean” You smile before holding his hand again.

“I am so fucking lucky I married you in October… Or I think I’d have been so upset that it would have all been cancelled” Alex says giving your hand a squeeze, that adorned both your engagement and wedding ring.

“I told you Autumn weddings are cute” You grin at him.

And it was true. Your wedding was stunning.

You’d got married back over here Mid-October and you were both very lucky that the weather had been kind to you. Thankfully you could take your wedding pictures outside and you adored them all completely.

Although you think Alex adored them more, he started crying when the photographer sent them over and he had a picture of you in your dress as his Lockscreen and another one of just you as his Homescreen.

Never mind you being his biggest fan, he was definitely yours.

“You know I love the sun” He pouts at you.

“Alex we literally live, or I guess lived in LA. I’m sure coming back here for a few weeks didn’t hurt” You laugh a little at him sticking his bottom lip out.

He gives you that one.

“It was definitely lucky you convinced me to move it” He smiles.

You couldn’t think of anything worse than planning out a full wedding, only for it to be completely cancelled because of everything going on right now. You felt so sorry for the people going through it because you would have been devastated if your wedding had been cancelled.

“We’re definitely lucky” You smile, “That was one of the best days of my life”

You couldn’t help but smile at your memories of the day. You were just so thankful that Alex’s hair had grown back in time for the big day. Because you weren’t getting married to him with that bald head.

However nice he looked; you really wanted your man to have his lovely hair present for your wedding day.

“It was the best day of my life” Alex admits. “What’s top for you that our wedding doesn’t beat it?”

“2013 Glastonbury” You say without a second thought.

After a second though you realise what you’ve said and laugh at yourself. You were still the biggest fool.

“For fucks sake Y/N/N” Alex shakes his head at you chuckling a little.

“It’s not my fault it’s yours… I’ve just never felt happier in that moment where all I could hear was everyone singing along to Mardy Bum” You smile shyly.

It truly was such a magical experience for you. You would never get that moment again and it mean just as much.

Granted you didn’t think you would be getting married again but there was just something about that gig that held such a special place in your heart. And you’d rather not lie to your husband about what the best day of your life was.

“I was crying big time” You giggle a bit, trying to defend yourself.

“I know you were, and I’ve seen you cry at it since” Alex playfully teases you.  

“Thought our wedding might have topped it though” He admits but you just grin shaking your head back at him.

You mumble against his lips before kissing him once more, “It’s a very close second, I promise”

He laughs before kissing you back. His soft hands, which you had a feeling had a little bit of paint on, came up and cupped your cheek making sure you couldn’t escape him.

Not that you were planning too.

Alex’s kisses still caused butterflies in your stomach, which after 5 years, you had no clue how. His kisses really were second nature now, but when caught up in such a meaningful moment, he still made you so nervous.

Yet you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You hoped the butterflies would still be there when you were both old and grey.

Alex then pulled away and as you looked back into those brown eyes, he asked you once more, “So, you’re definitely up for it then?”

“Definitely” You confirm.

And the grin that then makes its way onto Alex’s face was something you hoped you never forgot. You tried to take a mental picture of it.  

After a second of admiring your husband you added, “We can just see what happens… There still no rush, so if it doesn’t happen straight away, that’s alright too. There definitely no harm in continuing to try for one”

Alex smirks at you when you say that.

“Of course not” He agrees.

“In fact…”

Alex trails off to lean towards you again to kiss you. Something which again makes you smile because of how cute the whole situation was. You kiss him back and your hand just automatically goes up into his soft hair.

You also can’t help but giggle when he pushes you back, so you’re forced to lie down on the floor whilst he still kisses you. He moves with you so he’s above you and he pulls away to hear your giggle continue.

You smile up at him as your giggle fades and you lean up to peck his lips.

“I love you Al”

You love the smile that breaks out on his face when you tell him that too.

But your smile grows twice the size when you hear him say back, “I love you too, Mrs Turner”

~*~*~*~ Christmas Eve ~ 2020 ~*~*~*~

“Oh my god I’ve missed you so much” Y/B/F throws her arms around you pulling you into a hug at your doorstep.

You giggle at her excitement and give he a squeeze as you say, “I’ve missed you too”

Oh my god we have so much to talk about” She grins as she releases you.

“We do” You laugh, and she goes to give Alex a hug.  

“Matt I’ve missed you so much” You turn towards him and open your arms.

He leans in and wraps his arms around you and coos, “Oh I’ve missed you too”

“How’s my best buddie doing?” You smile up at him when he releases you.

“Excuse me” Both Alex and Y/B/F say at the same time.

Both you and Matt turn to look at them and see their hands on their hips, looking at you like you’d just said something horrendously offensive.

“I meant my best boy friend” You correct yourself.

That seemed to satisfy your best friend and she wondered into your house, that she’d yet to see decorated. However, Alex still wasn’t too impressed.

“Are you joking?” He asks you with raised eyebrows.

“Jesus Alex, I’m married to you” You roll your eyes before closing the front door.

“I was your best boy friend for over a decade before I was your actual boyfriend” Alex says.

You don’t know why he felt the need to clarify it though, it wasn’t as if you or Matt were denying it.

“Yeah so stop being offended. You got bumped up the pecking order someone had to take your place” You grin as you hug Matt again and he rests his chin on top of your head hugging you back tightly

Alex decides to look to his best mate instead, asking, “Can you give me my wife back please?”

Matt chuckles before releasing you, and as you roll your eyes before scorning your husband, Matt goes and follows Y/B/F into the lounge.

“Alex” You laugh as you walk towards him and then cup his face and give him a quick kiss.

“I’m yours chill out” You assure him, and you smile feeling his hands come up and rest on your hips.

“Oh, I know you are” He says under his breath as he grins.

His thumbs rub over your lower stomach as he holds you and he whispers, correcting himself, “Both of you”

You can’t help but lean up to kiss him quickly before you follow Matt and Y/B/F’s lead and head into the lounge.

Alex goes and makes them both a cup of tea whilst you entertain the two, telling them where you found all the things that Y/B/F kept on pointing out. Thankfully by the end of August, the house was completely redone.

It was well and truly the Turner’s household and you loved each and every room.

However, you were both very aware now that one of the spare bedrooms now needed to be transformed into a nursery. Something which you would both take pleasure in doing when you were a bit further along than the 3 months you were now.

Alex come back into the room with everyone’s drinks in hand and you leave yours on the side for a minute because it was far too hot. It seemed that everyone else in the room had the same idea, so the drinks were abandoned for the time being.

Instead you started chatting for 10 minutes, all catching up properly in person as you hadn’t had the chance to do this yet because of Corona. Thankfully the world had adjusted itself to the new normal and Christmas could actually go ahead.

So, it was amazing that you and Y/B/F could have your Christmas ritual of having Christmas Eve together. Just an added bonus that Alex and Matt were involved now.

“Okay so we want to tell you something” Y/B/F announces from the other settee next to Matt.

You notice that she takes his hand and you smile; They were so fucking cute. You were so glad they got together. You couldn’t believe it had been 2 years.

You and Alex were on the other settee that was opposite theirs and you were already holding his hand. You weren’t usually this clingy but today had been an amazing day.

This morning you and Alex had gone and had your 12 weeks scan and the little baby growing in you was healthy and doing well. News which was much to yours and Alex’s relief.

You’d had some pretty bad morning sickness, so you were just glad everything was okay despite you not being 100% from time to time.

“Ooooo okay” You grin at the couple.

“I’m pregnant” Your best friend says with the biggest grin on her face.

Your jaw drops with massive smile on your face and you squeezed Alex’s hand without meaning to. You definitely weren’t expecting that.

And you doing think Alex expected it either, he asked excitedly with a smile, “Are you actually?”  

“Yeah” Matt nods with a grin.

And you leap out of your seat and dart towards your best friend to trap her into a hug whilst squealing, “Oh my god”

She can’t help but laugh as you wrap your arms around her and say, “Congratulations” down her ear.

Your best friend just giggles down yours before saying a, “Thank you”

You see that Matt gets up and you presume he’s giving Alex a hug from what you can hear, but you’re too invested in Y/B/F to check.

You release her so you don’t suffocate her, and you have to ask, “How far along are you?”

“Sixteen weeks” She tells you with a massive smile.

“Holy fuck” You whisper excitedly covering your mouth as if the baby could hear you. “I bet you’re over the moon”

“I really am. Didn’t really mean for it to happen but we were both excited when we found out after the initial shock of it wore off” Your best friend tells you and you could only imagine the shock for the both of them.

But you couldn’t wait to pry out more information from her, but right now you were too giddy.

“Ahhhhh I’m so so so happy for you” You say before giving her another huge hug.

She giggles in your arms and gives you a tight squeeze before you get yourself up to hug your other best mate.

“Matt come here right now” You say once Alex had finished hugging him.

Alex goes and hugs Y/B/F whilst you hug your Helders.

“Congratulations” You say once your arms are wrapped around him.

“Thank you, my love” Matt grins before kissing your cheek when he pulls away from your hug after a few more seconds.

You look at him, so happy in front of you and you can’t help but say, “I love you so goddamn much… I’m so happy for you”

“Thank you” He says going a little red.

You get all of the gossip from them and get to see their scan photo. You find that they were planning to actually give birth over here, but they will still be primarily living in LA, because of course Matt didn’t want to leave Amelia.

You were so so so happy for them it made you excited to start telling people.

You’d yet to tell anyone because you knew the scan was going to be today, on Christmas Eve, so you and Alex had both decided that you were going to tell your families tomorrow.

You were hosting Christmas in your new house this year and it was going to be your family, along with Alex’s Mum and Dad. And you were both so fucking excited for how you had it planned out to tell people.

You think Alex was currently feeling the same as you about being excited to tell people. You caught on because when you were sat in your original seats again every time, they told you something that the two of you had both been through, he gave your hand a squeeze.

When the couple across from you started asking about the two of you, you gave them the answers that you’d been giving people for the past few months.

But then Alex looked towards you and you share a look. He gave you a knowing smile and tilted his head towards Matt and Y/B/F. You raise your eyebrows ever so slightly asking with your eyes if he was meaning ‘tell them’.

Turns out he was, as he gave your hand a squeeze and smiled and nodded his head slightly. All discrete and not too obvious which meant that the unsuspecting couple across from you were about to get a nice surprise.

You look towards them and grab their attention with, “Hey Y/B/F, you know that thing that I’ve always wanted most in life?”

You smile a bit when you see her eyes widen at what you said. Matt, however, obviously has no fucking clue and makes a joke.

“You wanted something more than Alex?” Matt asks you and both you and your husband chuckle.

You set the record straight though, telling him honestly, “Oh yeah, a lot more than Alex”

“Are you trying to tell me something?” Y/B/F asks you with knowing eyes

She sees both you and Alex grin and her and when you nod your head she screams. She darts to you just like you did to her, but she wraps her arms around both you and Alex and gives you both a massive hug.

Both you and Alex can’t help but laugh and hug her back.

“I’m so fucking happy right now” She squeals down the both of your ears.

“So are we” You giggle back.

She lets you go and sits on Alex’s lap as she talks to the both of you. “So, I need to know everything” She looks at the both of you expectantly.

However, poor Matt is completely lost.

“Wait, what the fucks just happened?” Helders says looking dazzled.

“We’re pregnant too” Alex looks around Y/B/F’s body and grins as he spells it out for his best mate.

“Are you serious?” Matt asks, his face beaming with happiness and shock.

“I wouldn’t be joking about this” Alex chuckles.

Aw guys” Matt says before standing from his seat.

Alex gets up and Y/B/F sits down in his place and gives you a proper hug.

“How far are you?” She asks as her arms are tight around your neck.

“Twelve weeks” You tell her and once sheet you go you explain, “We literally had the first scan this morning, but we haven’t told anyone so don’t scream it from the rooftops just yet”

“We’re the first to know?” Matt asks overhearing what you were saying.

“Yeah” You smile up at him.

“What why?” Y/B/F asks you a little confused.  

“Because we weren’t expecting you to drop the news, but we couldn’t not when you told us… We’re telling the family tomorrow” Alex tells them.

“Me and Y/N need to chat about this. To save our mental states” Y/B/F says, getting herself comfy on the settee in Alex’s space.

You smile at her agreeing, before looking to the boys and saying, “Matt, you need to prep Alex for everything”

“I told you I’m going to be fine” Alex says at you and you just stick your tongue out at him.

“Yeah, that’s what we all think mate” Matt laughs a little before holding Alex’s shoulder and then patting it for some extra drama.  

Alex looks at his mate like he’s just grown another head. Fear very clearly seeping into his features and Matt has to back track.

“I’m joking don’t look so worried” He smiles. “Come on let’s grab a beer and we can chat”

And so, they do, the boys go and chat in the kitchen for a good 10 minutes whilst you and Y/B/F compare your pregnancies along with every minor detail of it. You were both just so buzzing.

She had just shown you her scan picture and you were so happy for her. Your heart was literally melting. You needed Alex to bring your picture in to show her.

“Al” You shout.  

A second later you hear, “Yeah”

“When you come back in, bring the scan picture in with you please?” You ask him nicely.

“Okay”

Not a minute later, Alex and Matt are walking back in and you can see that Alex has shown it Matt, as Helders is holding the picture.

“Y/N I’m so fucking happy for you” He grins at you before leaning down to give you a kiss on the cheek and another quick hug.

“I’m happy for you too Matt” You reiterate back to him, before Y/B/F plucks the photo from him.

Matt and Alex then go and sit on the other settee so you can still continue with your previous chats. Something which you all definitely needed yet you were so bloody excited about everything at the same time.

“Shit” Y/B/F turns to you practically mid conversation to say, “I just realised that yours and Alex baby is going to be fucking stunning”

You laugh at that. You wouldn’t even lie, you really hoped that with Alex’s genes the little one would come out looking good.

You couldn’t help but picture their baby though and you had to tell her, “Yours is going to be the most beautiful child ever”

Y/B/F has a look of disbelief, but you scorn her saying there's no reason why it wouldn’t be beautiful. She was stunning and Matt was fit so there’s no chance the child wouldn’t be.

“I think you’re both going to be having gorgeous babies stop bickering” Matt says, obviously hearing the silly chatter.

Y/B/F furrows her eyebrows at him, “I’m sorry you can’t lie to me and say that their baby won’t have the best genes in the entire world”

Alex shakes his head at her, “Yes Y/B/F but also you are just as stunning as my wife there” He nods towards you and then to his best mate, “and Matt’s also not too bad”

You all have a little laugh at that before you chip back in with, “I mean apart from the musical talent they possess, let’s just hope they take after us instead”

“Cheeky bitch” Matt chuckles a bit shaking his head at you.

You scoff and in jest add, “I’m pregnant, you can’t call me that”

“When are you due?” You then turn to Y/B/F and ask.

“Thirtieth of May” You best friend informs you.

You squeal a little, with a grin on your face, “As if”

“Why when are you due?” She asks.

“Thirtieth of June” You tell her with a big smile.

Your best friend grabs you hand and says, “Oh my god”

You giggle, “We are literally the same person”

“We actually are“

That being because hers and your birthdays were a month apart from each other. Meaning that it was almost poetic that your first babies were due one month apart.

Your best friend and Matt obviously stay for the evening and you have a lovely time with them. You show them around the decorated house, and they seem to love it just as much as you and Alex.

It was funny when you all came back into the lounge though that had the bi-folding windows in and Y/B/F said, “You’re going to be a pro window cleaner”

“I know it’s huge” You laughed.

But then she corrected herself so you understood, “No, I mean because when the baby arrives and they stay crawl they will be all over that. Messy handprints and everything”

“I’ll let that be Alex’s job then” You laugh.

“Thanks Hun” Alex shook his head at you.

You grin back, “You’re welcome baby”

After you’d all finished eating later on, you and your best friend were still sat with each other on the settee and you were practically cuddled together. You loved her so bloody much that the fact that you wouldn’t be living in the same country anymore just left you both needing a cuddle.

You both chatted about anything that came to mind and then your best friend seemed to have a brainwave.

“Oh my god right, so there’s this thing that I saw and it said something along the lines of ‘As days go by they mean nothing to your now, but one day it could be the day you get married or your child’s birthday’” She tells you.

You smile and say, “Yeah that’s so true”

“I know right, so I recon we look back though our Snapchat memories throughout the years and see what we were up to on our due date” She suggests.  

“That’s such a cute idea” You smile.

Your best friend smiles, “I know right”

“Okay let’s go” You said pulling your phone out of your pocket.

You both spent about 10 minutes on it and you’d just got to the date 5 years previous and you had to stop yourself. Your whole body just stopped as if someone had hit a pause button.

You can’t help yourself when your hormones get the better of you and your eyes start gathering tears. You look towards Y/B/F and she spots the tears straight away.

Your best friend looks at your phone then and takes it off you to see the picture.

“Awhhh Y/N that’s so cute” She smiles at you and you just break down in happy tears.

She throws her arm around you and you release a little sob craving the comfort.

“Aw don’t cry” She says before she kisses the side of your head.

“I can’t help it” You weep into your hands, hiding your face.

These last few months your emotions had been everywhere.

“Y/B/F what have you done to my wife?” You just about hear Alex ask over your crying.

“I’ve done nothing” She tells him with a smile and a little giggle.

You hear him get up and he asks you, “Y/N/N what’s wrong?” whilst Y/B/F lets go of you and you think she’s swapping seats with him.

She places your phone in your lap once she moves and you feel Alex arms go around you when he sits down.

He gives you a second before he tries to pry the information from you. You just look up at him and tell him though, stray tears still running down your face.

You look into his brown eyes and tell him, “Our baby’s due on the same date I came on holiday”

Alex seems a little confused as he probably would be. You’d been on holiday a lot, and many times with him. So, you let him off and just confirm what you meant, “You know the holiday… Our holiday”

“You’re joking” Alex says with a look of disbelief.  

“No” You cry a bit more before you throw your hands around his neck and hug him tightly.

“Hormones are a bitch. Why am I crying at everything?” You say through your tears and Alex laughs.

“It is pretty cute though darling” He says kissing your neck as he hugs you.

When you release him, you unlock your phone and show him the picture you found. It was of your plane ticket to LA and it said, ‘Here I come to ruin Al’s life’.

Alex laughs a little when he reads it before

“You didn’t ruin my life by the way. You made it infinitely better”

~*~*~*~ Christmas Day ~ 2020 ~*~*~*~

Christmas had been amazing. After such a shit year this was definitely a highlight of it.

And you had a feeling you were about to make things better.

It was about an hour before you were due to eat, and everything was prepped so you were just chilling out with your big family. Presents had been done a few hours earlier and you loved watching everyone interact.

Your Mum and Penny were chatting away over a glass of wine. David and your Dad were talking about the football match that was happening tomorrow and your brother was chipping in every now and again.

Your sister in law, Jess was primarily taking care of little Lucas who captured everyone’s attention in the room. He was now settling down for a nap though.

You were a little jealous of him.

But you knew that there was going to be a lot of excitement in the room in the next 15 minutes. So, when you saw Zoe sat in Alex’s lap, him still definitely being her favourite member of the family (traitor), you decided to put yours and Alex’s plan into action.

Alex catches your gaze and he raises his eyebrows at you, silently asking if now was the right time. You give a little nod before you say from across the room.

“Hey Zoe” You get her attention.

Her attention immediately finds you and she gives you a smile. A smile that gets bigger when you say, “I forgot about another present for you. Come with me a minute”

You both get up and head to the stairs. You give Alex a little smile before you both disappear off.  

When you reach your room you get out the wrapped up clothing, but before you give it her you say, “Okay so I’ve got something to tell you but I need you to keep it a secret for me for the next five minutes”

“Okay” She smiles at you, trying to keep her eyes averted from the wrapping paper to be polite.  

“Pinky promise me” You say with a smile.

She wraps her pinky around yours and you both take a seat on your bed.

“Okay, open that and it will tell you the surprise” You say handing her the most important part of this present.

You and Alex had got a top made for her. It was her favourite colour and on the front of it you’d had on it in bold writing 'No. 1 Cousin’

You watch as she quickly gets the wrapping paper off and hold back your smile when she unfolded the top to read it. It took her a second, but she gasped and then looked at you.

“Am I getting a cousin?” She asks, her jaw on the ground.

“You are” You giggle.

“Yay” She squeals before she leaps into your arms and gives you a massive hug around her neck.

“So, your pregnant?” Zoe confirms when she releases you.

“I am. and I was hoping you could help me tell everyone downstairs by wearing that?” You ask her.

Zoe excitedly nods, “Yes”

“I got you more clothes so you can hide it first so it will surprise everyone” You tell her, handing her the other stuff to unwrap.

You watch as she unwraps a leather jacket that you had sadly got the One For The Road logo printed on the back of it. You just couldn’t help yourself.

You also got her black wrapped jeans like the ones that you were wearing now. Along with some cute little ankle boots.

She would literally be a mini you.

As she looks at the One For The Road logo, you explain, “I had it made so you can be like me and have Uncle Alex’s song on the back”

You’d wore the One For The Road leather jacket many a time. And Zoe had said plenty of times that she loved it too.

“Is this the video with Jamie on the tractor?” Zoe asks curiously.

“Yes” You giggle.

You really had raised her well.

“I love it thank you” She tells you and say a quick ‘you’re welcome’.

Zoe asks you as she unwraps the other clothing “Are you wearing yours to go down in too?”

“If you want me too?” You smile at her.

She nods, “Yeah and then Uncle Alex can take a picture of us matching”

“That’s a good idea actually and then when he comes and stands next to me, if no one asks about your top then you can open the jacket up and show everyone yeah?” You plan out in your head and she nods excitedly at you.

“Okay, let’s get you dressed” You say excitedly.

After 5 minutes your back downstairs, you head into the lounge first as she waits just in the hallway so people can’t see her yet. Thankfully all the clothes fit her, and she truly looked like you.

It was amazing.

You’re wearing the comfy leather jacket as you enter the room and announce, “Okay, so she wants a photoshoot, so someone have a camera at the ready”

You watch as Alex says he’ll do it, giving you a little grin. He gets his phone out of his pocket and waits for her entrance.

“Alright Zo” You look to the hall and see her excited grin.

She asks you, “Does Uncle Alex have his camera ready for the photo?”

The room laughs a little at that and you just assure her giving her a nod, “He does”

She walks into the room in her new ripped black skinny jeans, her top expertly covered by the zip up leather jacket that she looked cool in.

“Spin for them” You instruct.

She does a twirl for everyone and you can tell she’s loving the attention.

“Oh amazing” You’re Mum says with a big smile.

“Lovely Zoe” Penny tells her and lots of other compliments are thrown her way too.  

“Auntie Y/N/N, picture, come on” She holds out her hand to you and has a hint of a knowing smile on her face.

You smile at her and take her hand before you stand beside her with almost the same clothes on and as you see the flash of the picture on the wall as you were both showing off what the jacket said to the camera.

You hear your brother ask Alex, “Does she still steal your clothes mate?”

“All the time” Alex laughs.

“It’s a cool jacket” You defend yourself against your brother. “Shut up”

“Yeah dad shut up” Zoe tells him sarcastically with a little giggle.

“Yeah” You chuckle along with her and the room laughs too.

“Al can I see the photo?” You ask him and he nods with a smile.

Both of you stand behind Zoe and you look at the phone for a second. Alex wraps his arm around you, so he’s holding your hip and you send him a little smile.

He grins back at you but then you both look to your niece who is still loving the limelight. And then someone asks the question you’d really hoped to hear.

“Did you get a new top too Zo” Jess asks.

“I did. I love it” Zoe nods.

“Show us then?” Your Mum asks her, and you feel Alex’s hold you against him the tiniest bit tighter.

Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest. You look up at him and give him a quick smile and he squeezes your hip a bit, so he doesn’t give anything away too early.

You both look down to Zoe who was just unzipping her jacket and then she opened it up and put her hands on her hips to keep it open.

The room went silent after that and that was when it hit Jess, your sister in law, first. A loud gasp escaped her mouth and you couldn’t really hold your smile back any longer.

“Are you being serious?” She asks you looking at both you and Alex, still seeming to be the only one to understand what was happening and you both nod back at her.

It was then that you heard your Mum gasp and a second later Alex’s mum. You both fully grinned at them as your Mums got themselves up and ran over to you tears already in her eyes.

“Is my baby finally having her own baby” Your Mum shouts as she traps you in a hug.

“She is” You giggle down your Mums ear.

She squeals for you and she won’t let you escape from the hug at all. Not that you really wanted too.

“I’m so so so happy for you darling” She tells you still squeezing you tightly.

“Thank you Mum. I love you” You say hugging her back just as tight.

She then releases you and gives you a big kiss. You wipe away the few stray tears running down her face.

Alex’s Mum, Penny, is already fully sobbing as both Mums swap which child they pour their new found emotions on to.

“Y/N darling, I love you so much” She almost sobs as she hugs you.

“I love you too” You assure her, giving her a squeeze.

Penny lets you go but then holds your arms, probably more to keep her mind completely sane and ensure her that the moment was real.

She tells you, “I’m so happy for you”

“Thank you” You grin at her. This was such a lovely feeling; You were so happy you could finally tell people.

“I can’t believe you kids are having a baby” She says looking between you and Alex, who is currently still being hugged by your Mum. “It feels like I was only at your parents evening a year or two ago”

You giggled at that, “At least we waited a while, so you didn’t have that to chat about in school”

Penny then laughed at that. That would have been

“Yes, thank you for not doing that to me whilst you were in school. I would have killed him” Penny tells you with a little giggle.

“Don’t worry I think my mum would have battered me too” You tell her honestly, with a little chuckle.  

You also add, “You’re finally going to be a Grandma or a Nana”

“I can’t believe you both made me wait five years for my first grandchild” Penny shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, I had to made sure he loved me properly first” You joke. 


“Hunny, he’s loved you since he was Fifteen” Penny assures you and you laugh.

“I know, he’s obsessed with me” You say giving Alex a little grin.

He just looked at you and gave you a little death stare.

But did he deny it…

No.

“My little girl who’s now pregnant with her own baby... don’t you make out like you weren’t drawing hearts with your and his name in it when you were Fourteen” Your Dad says as he stands by Penny’s side.

Penny giggles at your Dad dropping that truth bomb, along with Alex’s laughter as he hugs David.

“Dad” You whine, before you give him a hug.

His hug is tight and comforting, everything that you could want from a hug from your Dad.

He says softly, “Sweetie I love you, and I’m so happy and excited for you”

“Thank you Dad” You say hugging him tight before the hug is over all too soon.

Your Dad smiles at you when he lets you go before asking, “How far along are you?”

“Just over twelve weeks” You tell him with a smile.

“You’ve had your scan then?” Your Dad asks with hopeful eyes.

You can’t get the smile off your face as you say, “Yes… Do you want to see the picture?”

“I’d love too” You get it out from the jacket pocket and show him the first picture of his new grandchild.

Your Dad looks at it for a moment and you can see the smile on his face. He was completely beaming.

When he looked back up at you, you saw his eyes glistening with happy tears and your heart swelled at the sight.

He just about choked out, “Darling I’m so happy for the both of you”

“Thank you Dad. I love you” You say as you give him another big hug.

“I love you a million sweetie” He whispers down your ear as he hugs you back tightly.

Before you even released your Dad from your hug, the picture was snatched out of his hands by the soon to be grandmas to take a look at. The started crying again once they saw it.

Their reactions were just making you giggle.

When your Dad released you, David was then next in line for you to hug. And you couldn’t wait, David was always so lovely to you, you loved a good family hug.

“I’m beyond happy for the both of you” David says looking between you and Alex.

“Thank you… I’m excited for you though. You’re going to be a grandad” You say with a big smile before pulling him into a hug.

“Don’t. You’ll have me crying on you” David says with a little chuckle.

“Don’t worry, your son’s been crying on me the last few months… I can handle tears” You tell him.

Alex had been so adorable with you. When you both found out he started crying tears of joy.

Both of you were just so over the moon. It was amazing.

You were glad you weren’t the only emotional one in the house.

“I love you both so much. And I can’t wait to meet the little one” David says smiling between the two of you before looking down to your stomach that just had the tiniest little bump.

But you couldn’t see it, as you were wearing a loose top.

“Neither can we” Alex grins before kissing the side of your head.

Your brother then runs up to you, pulls you away from Alex before lifting you into the air by giving you the biggest hug in the world. And when he spends you around, you start giggling like a little girl.  

“I’m so happy for you” He yells

You can’t help but giggle a, “Thank you”

Once your back on the ground, your brother gives you another proper hug before letting you go, saying, “I’m going to shout at your husband though”

“Oi Alex. How dare you get my little sister pregnant” Your brother fakes anger as his wife releases Alex form a hug.

“I’m sorry, she just kept asking me to put a baby in her” Alex sighs and then points at you, all with a cheeky smile on his face.

You smile back at him, but you say, “I think you’ll find it was him who brought it up so you can batter him if you want… Just leave his pretty face alone. I have to live with it”

“Hey” Alex scoffs offended, before your brother wraps him up in a big hug.

You giggle to yourself before you hug Jess, “Thank you so much for actually understanding what was going on then”

She laughs, “It’s okay. I just couldn’t believe your family was being so slow”

“Zoe literally got it after a second. I was thinking ‘surely this can’t be that hard to understand’” You tell her smiling to yourself.

“No, it really wasn’t, I got it straight away and then I saw your smile and couldn’t hold in a gasp” Jess giggles.

You chuckle, “Well thank you… They seemed to get it after you did”

“It’s alright” She says before she lets go of you.

“I do have a number two cousin top upstairs for Lucas too” You smile, and she says thanks again.

You little nephew now back to sleep in his car seat just across the room. He was just too adorable.

You both look towards the No 1 cousin though and see that she’s already giving Alex a hug. He then held Zoe at your level by sitting her on his hip like she was still 4 years old.  

And that was when you tuned into their conversation.  

“Thank you for helping us tell everyone” Alex gave her a toothy grin.

“It’s alright” Zoe assured him, “I think everyone is buzzing”

“I think they are” Alex laughed.

He added an, “Are you buzzing?”

She nodded at him and you had to cut into their conversation at that point.

“I should hope you are” You remind the little one, “You’ve been wanting a cousin since you were six”

“I’m proper buzzin’” She said in a very northern accent that made you both laugh.

~*~*~*~

The rest of the day was spent in such high spirits.

Your Christmas dinner was amazing, and you think you and Alex smashed it for your first time doing it. You were such a good team and you could only get stronger at this point.

Well if he wasn’t petty and still tried to get out of doing the cooking claiming that because Christmas was on a Friday this year, that he didn’t have to cook because it was your day.

But all jokes aside you had never been happier with him and you loved him so much.

He’d made your life so much better in every single way he possibly could. He’d given you his love and he was giving you a family.

Something that you’d always wanted.

So, when you both got to your bedroom once everyone had gone back home, you were both tired and emotional.

You lay yourself down on your bed, still fully clothed, and just thought over the past few days.

You’d had your scan, heard your baby’s heartbeat. Matt and Y/B/F told you they were pregnant too, you found out that your baby is due the day you went on holiday to LA and your life hadn’t been the same since. And you’d told your family you were expecting.

Life couldn’t be any better.

So, when Alex sat down on his side of the bed, you just couldn’t help but express yourself to the man that owned your entire heart.

“Thank you” You whisper to your husband.

Alex looks to you then curiously, a smile pulling his lips up when he asks, “What for?”

You start tearing up a big just feeling a bit emotional about everything.

“Just… Thank you for making me happy” You say, wiping away a stray tear away as you looked into those eyes you could forever get lost in.

Alex softly smiled at you when you said that, and crawls across the bed to give you a kiss which you really appreciated. You still weren’t tired of those soft lips meeting your own.


And you were fairly certain at this point that you never would be.

“I love you so much” You say with a big smile.

He was truly your world.  

Alex smiles back, pecking your lips once more before saying, “I love you too baby”

“Your baby is there” You tell him, putting a hand over your stomach.  

“How could I forget?” Alex grins at you but then his gaze moves down your body.

He lies himself down across the bed, so his head is at your stomach and he looks to you as he lifts the bottom of your top. A silent question comes from him, asking if he can lift your top up.

You grin at him and nod.

That was the first and probably only time he’d ever asked if he could take your top off.

He brushed the bottom of your top up to just under your boobs and then he started trailing is fingertips across your stomach.

You laid back and watched as you husband started thinking out loud and it was the cutest thing.

“Okay then…” Alex trails off, looking at your smooth skin.

“So, you listen here you, hiding away in there” Alex softly says as his fingers trace over your tiny bump.

It was barely noticeable to anyone else, but Alex knew your body like the back of his hand. He could tell the little bump was there.  

“You’ve gotta be good for your Mummy for the next six months because we don’t want her poorly like she was a few weeks back”

Alex continues his adorable one-sided conversation, and says to your tummy, “You can crave whatever food you want, and I’ll go and get it for you… But your Mummy doesn’t like throwing up, so just take it easy on her, yeah?”

You couldn’t help but smile at that. You started playing with the hair on the back of his head, which was growing back to how it used it be.

You’d never get used to him being cute. But this was a whole different level.

He carries on after he kisses your stomach, and says against your skin, “We can’t wait to meet you sweetheart”

You couldn’t contain your grin then, “You think we’re having a girl?”

Alex presses his lips down onto your stomach before he nods before giving you more kisses.

“What makes you think that?” You ask him.

You didn’t really want to interrupt his train of thought but you just needed to ask this once.

Alex smiles at you and says, “I don’t know. I just have a feeling”

You smile at him then and keep running your fingers though his hair as he continues talking your tiny bump.

“I can’t wait for you to arrive and we have the best time all three of us together” Alex smiles looking at your skin, resting his hand on top of it for a moment.

“Your Mummy makes me so happy anyway, but I can’t wait until I can walk into a room and see the two of you together” He says, and the thought makes your heart melt.

Especially when he continues on to say,  “I can just imagine when your older that I’ll come home one day and see the both of you sat at the piano, because your Mum will definitely insist on teaching it to you when your big enough”

Alex carries on thinking scenarios up in his head, “I can’t wait to help get your ready for school and I can put plaits in your hair and for your Mum to teach me how to do that because I’m useless”

He then starts tracing random lines on your stomach again and he giggles when he adds, “She’ll have to let me practice on her hair like she practiced on mine the other year”

You had to try not to chuckle at that because you didn’t want to bring him out of his thoughts by your stomach moving up and down from you laughing. But yes, when he had his long hair you plaited it many a time.

“I can’t wait to meet you because I’m not going to leave you alone” Alex says to your stomach once more. “You’re already the best thing that’s ever happened to me…”

He then brings his other hand up to cover his mouth so you couldn’t see his lips moving. But you still heard him whisper, “But don’t tell your Mum because she thinks it’s still me and her getting together after loving each other from a distance for ten years”

You both share a little laugh then.

But Alex isn’t quite finished.

Your husband continues with, “I love you so so much, and I can’t wait for you to start this family off properly… We will get you loads of brothers and sisters though don’t worry. You won’t be lonely”

Your eyes widen at that and you feel the need to just quickly interrupt with, “That is only if Mummy can handle you. But the deal is, your Daddy has to make an album in between each sibling you have”

Alex chuckles again at that before kissing your stomach.

“Wow that’s a lot more music for me to write” He says with wide eyes.

“Like you’ll ever stop making it” You say raising your eyebrows at him.

“Alright alright” He shakes his head, knowing he’s been caught out. “Can I get back to my chat now?”

“All yours” You say gesturing to your stomach so he can continue.

“Right before I was so rudely interrupted” Alex playfully rolls his eyes.

You giggle a little but listen to him as he carries on, “Okay so, I know your Mum’s going to love you to the moon and back like I will, but I’m going to steal you away from her so we can go and do fun things”

“I can’t wait to teach you how to ride a bike and I can’t wait to teach you how to play guitar because that’s better than piano but don’t tell your mummy that either”

You just smile at that.

“I can’t wait to hear you speak; I’m going to put in an early request for your first word to be ‘Dad’ please… That’ll make your Mum really jealous”

The giggle that falls from your lips is music to Alex’s ears. He loves your laugh so much.

“Thank you for making us both so happy already. And for all the happy times we’re going to have” Alex finishes of with before he looks towards you.

“And thank you for being amazing… And for carrying our baby… And for marrying me… And for being my best friend” He tells you.

Alex picks up your hand and kisses the back of it, then says, “I genuinely don’t know what I’d do without you”

“You don’t have to find out, don’t worry” You assure him.

You were here for good.

He couldn’t get rid of you now, even if he wanted to.  

“Just thank you… For everything” He says once again, and you can hear how genuine he’s being.

“I love you Alex” You tell him before leaning forward to press your lips against his.

And Alex manages to say against your lips, “I love you too”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Let me know if you want to be added to my Alex Turner Taglist for future works x

Taglist: @the-girl-before​ @murderousginger​ @minigranger​ @turnertable​ @bastillewolf​ @slothgiirl​ @billskarsgard-is-gorgeous​ @watashi-no-namae-wo-yonde​ @fookingsummertime​ @marvel-avengers01​ @shibuikelsi​ @toolateformcrtooearlytoleaveemo​ @gretavanbobatea​ @chocolatecig​ @iamnotjesha @rachaeljayne15​ @edgythought​ @marveious​ @liviasaugusta @boysinskirts​ @musicmania100​ @he4rtbre4khotel​ @innocte​ @beckauhhh​ @whoknowswhatimeant​ @tony-starks-ego​ @tobarmaidswhodontcount​ @elektranxtchiios​ @bettyschwallocksyee​ @alexsvacuumcleaner​ @cornerstqne​ @halfofwhatisayismeaningless​ @juicebox-baby​ @yousuck-marina​ @nrldswita​ @dot-writes​ @skullag​ @b-monkeys​ @babyhoneystvles​ @timchalamxt​ @writingismybiggestlove​ 

Thank you all so much x

[bluejohsai]

whiskers — kuroo tetsurou (au).

it’s been a while and i managed to push through with posting a short scenario for this blog. i know i haven’t been active in this blog at all and it will stay that way if there are no requests flying here. i am currently accepting requests for haikyuu and attack on titan (bc i indulged in it for quite a while now). with that aside, happy reading !!

summary : kuroo finds himself in a strange predicament and inevitably bumps into his crush. inspired by ‘a whisker away’.

Kuroo Tetsurou had enough of his life.

Everything was just in shambles the moment his mother screamed at his father, demanding a divorce. And with divorce comes the argument of which parent will take the responsibility of caring for the child. In the end, Kuroo's mother won, making him pack his bags and leave his father behind to live in his mother's house in Tokyo, along with the man that his mother chose to remarry. Living under his mother's care was perfectly fine; she wasn't in the house often because of her work and his mother's new husband tends to be fussing over him any chance he gets, but Kuroo chose to brush all of them with a practiced smile.

In the summer of Kuroo's second year in high school, the dark-haired boy received a message from his father. He was lounging in his makeshift study area in the bottom part of his bunk bed, reading a book that Kenma really enjoyed (it was filled with games though, probably the reason why the first-year liked it so much), when his phone vibrated on top of the coffee table he pushed at the front of his study area. Not having any enthusiasm at the prospect of talking to people, Kuroo sluggishly sat up and opened his phone, displaying his lock screen of the sky and the message from his father. With bored eyes from behind his long fringe, Kuroo tried reading the message without any attachment since it was only once upon a time that he was close with his father.

Father:

Hey, Tetsurou, I'm here right now in Tokyo. The summer festival is still ongoing so why don't we attend the highlights, I have something to talk to you about.

Narrowing his eyes at the glare of his gadget, Kuroo stared pensively at the screen of his phone. Festivals meant reliving those joyous moments he had with his father when he was young; catching goldfishes, buying masks and scaring his mother with the designs of their face accessories, and watching the highlights of the festival, which is the fireworks display. It also meant reliving that time when his father left him intentionally during a crowded summer festival. That event in his life spurred the divorce because as his mother told him, his father is one deadbeat and selfish kind of man. But his father wasn't like that. Kuroo remembered pleading to his mother to forgive the older man but it was all in vain. She still screamed in their dining room to nullify their marriage.

Tetsurou:

OK.

That was it. No residue of the playful nature he always had with his father, as it should be all those years.

Having a few minutes of silence and staring at the bottom of his bunk bed, Kuroo took a deep breath as he ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more. Slowly sitting up, the dark-haired boy crawled out of his cozy hideout and stretched his limbs, because lying down and rolling on the carpeted floor definitely made him stiff. Walking towards his closet while taking off his shirt, Kuroo reached out for the red sleeveless hoodie hanging from behind his volleyball club tracksuit, quickly fitting it on him and choosing to leave his basketball shorts on. With his phone and wallet in hand, the tall lad walked down the stairs and opened the door to the living room and dining area.

Peeking his head inside a small crack of the door, Kuroo lazily scanned the area. "Ah, Hikaru-san," he called out, catching the attention of a tall man with soft brown hair and glasses from behind the counter of their kitchen. He was apparently preparing for dinner, which looked like fried chicken. "I'm going out for a bit. Tell Mom that I could be going home late tonight."

The man named Hikaru gently smiled at Kuroo as he washed his hands. "I heard tonight's the summer festival's highlights," he noted, wiping his hand on one of the clean towels by the refrigerator. "Are you going with your friend, Kenma, is it? Or your classmates, Yaku and Kai."

Kuroo shook his head. "Dad invited me."

He swore he could hear a pin drop from the awkward silence ensuing inside the room. This silence is one that he greatly distastes, and this is coming from a child who succumbed to a bout of silence once he moved to Tokyo. There was no question of how Hikaru wanted to be acknowledged as Kuroo's new father and the competition on who deserves to be a better father to Kuroo is brewing between the two males that became a part of his mother's life. Kuroo could see that Hikaru was doing his best but the messy-haired boy never really viewed him as a family even after years of being married to his mom, his dismissive behavior when it comes to Hikaru is masked with cheery remarks and loud rounds of laughter. And that's what he chose to do right now.

The tall lad laughed once again, trying to ease any tension in the air. "I'm thinking of bringing home a box of takoyaki. Do you want anything, Hikaru-san?"

Hikaru composed himself and sheepishly looked down to continue with his current task. "You don't have to buy me anything, Tetsurou." The brown-haired man glanced at Kuroo with a fatherly air. "Are you joining us for dinner later?"

Kuroo paused for a few moments, pretending to think upon the offer before shaking his head an easygoing smile. "Nope," he lightheartedly answered Hikaru. "I'll be off now!"

When Kuroo's footsteps echoed through the empty household, followed by the sound of the front door closing, Hikaru deeply sighed as he planted both hands on the counter. His dejected frame was noticed by his pet cat, Hanako, who mewled in concern as she approached her owner. Realizing his eyes pooling with unshed tears, Hikaru quickly took his glasses from the bridge of his nose and wiped his eyes with his wrist, his forced laughter coming out huskily.

"I'm trying my best, Hanako, but why isn't it enough?"

                                                             *

Summer festivals in Tokyo always bring forth a chorus of laughter and the comfortable mellow lantern lights. There was a subtle beat of the taiko drums in the background, drowned out by the endless chatters of the people choosing to roam around during the highlights of the festivals. The streets of the enormous plaza in their area were arranged to have a line of stalls awaiting for customers, and one of them held a special place in Kuroo's childlike heart ー goldfish scooping. Here he was, crouched down in front of the small tub designated for the goldfishes, his hand poised right above him while his eyes never strayed from that fish who appeared to be brighter than anyone else in the shallow water. Right when he was about to catch the fish, his little net tilted and doubled over the water, scaring away the fishes from any human contact.

"Better luck next time, boy," the stall owner told him reassuringly but the messy-haired boy wasn't reassured at all.

Kuroo stood up brashly from his seated position, surprising the people around the little stall, and walked away with his hands inside the pockets of his sleeveless jacket. There was a hasty apology coming from behind him, along with hurried footsteps of the very person he doesn't want to interact with at the moment. Kuroo continued walking, mumbling apologies to the people he bumped on the way, until a firm grip wrapped around his arm, making him roll his eyes in annoyance.

"What?" he asked the person desperately trying to catch his attention, the expression on the younger boy was hiding the fact that he was hurting because of this meeting.

"Tetsurou," Kuroo Tatsunari, his father stood in front of him, face so distraught that he nearly broke his practiced façade. "You can live with me instead of your mother, that way everyone will be happy. Please, Tetsurou, I already asked my landlord to have my apartment renovated to have your room."

Kuroo was baffled for a moment and he couldn't help but scoff in disbelief at what his father said. After shaking his head, his golden eyes trailed from the face he was starting to see in the mirror (except for the unruly hair he seemed to claim since he was young) to the hand still gripping tightly on his arm, as if asking for him to never leave the owner's side. He had enough of all of this and all he wanted was to cry his heart out and scream all his hidden thoughts to a barren meadow, but all he could do was place his hand on his father's, gently taking away the grip that kept him rooted on the ground for so many years.

With unrelenting eyes, he muttered darkly, "Have you ever wondered what would make me happy?" before turning away and running to who knows where this late at night.

"Tetsurou!"

He did what he always did best ー running away from his problems.

The young boy did this when he was in the middle of his parents' fights when he was just a little boy and he brought it with him until he was in primary school, where his mother took him under her wing all the way to Tokyo. He nearly ran away when Kenma came into his life, the prospect of having friends and interacting with other children his age so dreadful to the boy that he didn't speak until Kenma asked him what games to play, thus, spurring the two to start volleyball. He nearly ran away when middle school and high school came, the latter made his anxiety rise much higher than the previous point in his life. But this was all erased when many of his high school classmates approached him out of nowhere, clinging onto him and confessing left and right, something that he was not proud of.

The messy-haired boy slowed down his pace to a walk, tears bleeding through his vision and blending in with the drops of rain pattering down on him. "I hate this," he muttered, making measured footsteps on the cobblestones, not noticing that his surroundings seem to transition into a shrine. "I hate the world. I hate myself. I wish I would just end this miserable life right away." Just then, a strong odor of tobacco wafted through his senses, making him perk up in wariness.

In front of him was a huge man dressed in an elaborate yukata, casually smoking on a fancy pipe that Kuroo thought was a relic based on its golden sheen that illuminated under the shrine's overhead lanterns. Feeling skeptical at his current situation, Kuroo slightly took a step back with his eyes still set on the man sitting with a mask stall beside him. His heartbeat picked up its pace because of the nerves starting to churn in his stomach but the dark-haired boy still glanced at the number of masks plastered on the stall and oddly enough, all he could see were cats instead of the variety of animals that were displayed in some of the festival stalls down the hill.

"Welcome," the unnamed man said in a raspy and deep voice, his big, slitted yellow eyes glancing over at Kuroo. "Do you want to try one on? It is said to erase all your worries the moment your face touches the mask."

Erase all your worries?

Kuroo gulped before opening his mouth to speak, "How much is one?"

That offer tempted him and based on the man's appearance, he wasn't a scammer that would run away with his money. There was something from the man's voice that compelled him to try just one mask to see if what he said is true because he definitely needed an escape from reality right about now.

The man chuckled ominously. "No need to pay, young man."

The messy-haired boy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Is this because your offer is a hoax?"

At this, the unnamed man's chuckles became a full-on laugh. Laughter of scrutiny thrown at him, making Kuroo squirm in his perch. "There wasn't anything about a hoax in what I said, kid. Here," the man reached out from behind him and picked out a black cat mask, throwing it at Kuroo, who leaned forward to catch the object, "try it on."

Kuroo flipped the mask. The front was so detailed that it almost looked real, the paint on the mask's nose seemed to glint with the wetness of a real cat's and even the whiskers protruded on either side of it. The ears also captured his attention ー there were fur inside each one and it even depicted the real colors on what you can see on a cat. The back wasn't much with its embellished white appearance but when Kuroo slowly lifted the mask to try it on, it snuggly fit the shape of his face, sending chills down his spine. It was like the mask was made for him. But his admiring came to a halt when an invisible wall slammed on him, making him lose his balance.

The next moment was so bizarre to Kuroo. At first, everything was normal to him and the next, all objects loomed over his figure like skyscrapers. But when he blinked at the green color invading his optics, his vision seems to sharpen, even more, zeroing on where the man was previously seated and only finding no sign of the unnamed person. His chest tightened with anxiety, jumping at the slightest of sound picked up by his hearing. With shaky legs, Kuroo walked on the pathway with the sole purpose of going home and just wrapping himself in his duvet, praying that the next day will be much kinder to him. Upon passing by a vending machine right at the base of the shrine, his golden eyes widened when his reflection showed a black cat instead of his tall physique.

What is happening?

"What in the world?" Kuroo voiced out but instead of his usual timber, a series of meows ricocheted through the empty shrine. He jumped two feet in the air in surprise, spooked that even the black cat in the vending machine's reflection showed rod-like fur. After a few moments, he slowly walked towards the reflection, both curious and unnerved at what he just witnessed. "How?"

Placing a paw on the glassy surface, Kuroo roamed his eyes over his new body. He wasn't even surprised that the cat he donned has black fur and a small tuff of hair covering a portion of his right eye. Gradually, the boy's parted lips turned into a large smile as he whooped in the air while jumping around. It was cute in a human's perspective ー a little black cat hopping from cobblestone to cobblestone, his little meows twinkling in the night breeze. In all honesty, Kuroo felt so alive to leave his human life behind and the only thought lingering in his head is how much he wanted to be a cat his whole life ー lazing around and looking for different homes all day, no room for homework and the constant argument of familial connections. For an entire hour, Kuroo marveled at the world from a different perspective as he never stopped swaying happily down the path.

Until a familiar scent hit him ー watermelon.

And true enough, there on one of the benches was [Last Name][Name], who was looking blankly at the park in front of her with a half-finished bottle of banana milk loosely held in her hands. It looked like she came from one of her college prep classes based on what she was wearing — a beige turtleneck sweater and a tawny pencil skirt covered by a trench coat. Her hair was the same hairstyle Kuroo always liked on her, a loose braid running down on one of her shoulders, with her fringe carefully framing her ethereal face. It was no surprise to everyone how much he likes the girl and it shows how he gawked at her with round, golden eyes.

She looked at the side and when her gaze found him, Kuroo visibly jumped in shock again. The girl rose her eyebrows in surprise at the sight of the adorable black cat pausing a few feet from her. Kuroo watched [Name] open her backpack and mumbling things under her breath as she searched for something in her bag. Brightening when she finally found what she was looking for, the black cat curiously watched as [Name] waved a pack of biscuits in the air and beckoned him towards her.

"I have some snacks, kitty," she told him, which strangely compelled him to come closer. Who doesn't? The girl he absolutely adores called him 'kitty' with that beautiful smile, of course, he would follow her. When he stopped by her shoes, she then lowered her voice, "Is it alright if I pick you up?"

Kuroo meowed in approval, which [Name] happily took as a good response since she carefully picked him up and placed him on her lap. She then softly ran her fingers on his head, making him purr in contentment. Before nibbling on a biscuit, Kuroo enjoyed the warmth [Name] emitted, looking up at her with his pupils blown wide, which is a sign of his fascination with the girl.

"The night is beautiful ー it's like everything disappeared," she pensively voiced out, her eyes softly staring at the black cat on her lap. "I need more moments like these. People want me to do things that they want, not knowing how much I wanted to be free when I step out in the real world. I mean, I'm going to be eighteen soon and it's a sign that my dad should stop placing shackles that makes me want to cry. I don't even want to be a doctor." She pursed her lips as she paused for a bit as she muttered, "It's so suffocating." The girl then felt paws on her shoulder, making her look up at the adorable black cat, which was a few inches from her face. Then, she felt the tiniest kiss on her cheek, something that elicited a giggle from her. "That tickles."

Raising her hand from her lap, [Name] wrapped them around the cat's body, lifting him a little higher and placing him on her shoulder.

"You smell like lavender," she whispered. "I love it."

Through the night, the boy trapped inside the black cat's body heard his heart pound in his chest, his adoration for the girl blossoming like the fireworks lighting the park.