#It's true. Florence told me that herself

[things-methinks]

Dog days are over was written for Nadia Vulvokov actually

[littlexscarletxwitch]

Hi I would like to request Florence Pugh X reader where reader is Florence's brothers best friend and is secretly sneaking around with her. They fall in love and then someone catches them making out or something. Toby finds out about them and he's pissed at reader but she tells him how much she loves Flo and they end up together. Happy ending pleaseee

Love your work <3

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘆 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗲

paring: florence pugh x fem!reader

tag(s): best friend's sister trope, fluff with a tiny bit of angst, secret relationship, toby and r are besties, raffie is just there for the drama lol

warning(s): allusion of sex, lying, grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 2.0k

note: YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS TROPE (like ASKJSHDKSKERJAKJDLADJ). Thank you for this request, you lovely person, I hope you like it! I'm not a native english speaker, so please let me know about any sort of mistake. Hope you all enjoy. Lots of love, M <3

requests are open! + check my rules + masterlist <3

You were currently laying on her chest, listening to her steady heartbeat, as she traced small circles on your naked back. 

"This is nice," you hummed. Eyes closed, enjoying every second of it. 

"Yes, it is," Florence agreed, smiling to herself as she watched you drifting off to sleep. 

But suddenly a loud knocking, startled the both of you, breaking the bubble the two of you were wrapped in. 

"Hey, Flossie. Have you seen my yellow shirt? The one that Arabella got me," Toby said as he opened the door, your heart skipping a beat at the realisation: your best friend was about to walk in to you and Florence, his sister. "I can't find it—." 

Florence's hand was fast enough to cover up your mouth before a sound came out of it. 

"Toby, no! I'm naked!" Florence yelled, which was true. But she was more concerned about Toby finding you there, in her room, more than seeing her naked. 

Actually, it was a double concern since you were also naked and laying next to her. With just one look at the two of you, Toby would figure out everything the both of you had tried really hard to hide from him these past 3 months. 

"Oh, Jesus," said Toby, quickly covering his eyes, luckily without noticing you were also there. "I'm sorry, but have you seen it?" he tried again. 

"Get out of here!" 

"Alright, fine," his eyes were covered, but you were pretty sure he had just rolled his eyes at his sister. "Just let me know if you see it," he said before closing the door. 

The two of you stayed in silence for a few minutes, waiting for him to be really gone. The breath you had been holding finally escaped past your lips once you didn't hear Toby's footsteps anymore. 

“Is he gone?” you asked in a whisper. 

“I think he is gone.”

“I don’t hear him anymore.”

“Yeah, I think we are good.”

“You think so?”

“I think so.”

Once the two of you were sure Toby was long gone, you felt your body finally relaxed into Florence’s arms. 

“That was a close one,” she whispered, afraid that Toby would hear the both of you somehow.

“Yeah, I think we should tell him,” you turned to her. “Don’t you think?”

“I, um, I don’t know, Y/n. It’s kinda complicated,” she said, scratching the back of her neck.

“I know, but he’s only going to get angrier if we let more time pass by.”

“I just I don’t think we should tell him if we aren’t really sure that this is not just us hooking up, you know?” she regretted ever saying that as soon as the last word left her lips.

“You think we are just hooking up?” disbelief filled your tone. 

“No, that’s not what I meant. I just—.”

“Jesus, Florence!” you scoffed.  “You could have told me that I was just your ‘fuck buddy’,” you said getting up from the bed and putting your clothes on. 

“No, Y/n! I swear I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, standing up and putting on an oversized t-shirt as quickly as she could. “I just– I don’t know how you feel about me, about us,” she gestured to the two of you, desperate to explain herself before you walk out the door. “I just got insecure and over-thought things for a second. Just let me rephrase it, okay?” she said, reaching out for you.

You just let her take your hand, leading the both of you to sit on the unmade bed, and you waited in silence for her explanation.

She took a deep breath and finally let out the words she had been holding back these past months: “I really like you, okay?” she chuckled, but there was no trace of fun. “No, that’s not it. I think I might be in love with you,” she confessed her heart out to you.

“Really?” 

“Yes, really!” a thin smile formed on her perfect soft lips. “I didn't want to tell Toby because I thought that if he were to find out about this… about us, then you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore. I didn’t want to lose you,” she licked her lips. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Your lips opened and closed, unsure of what to say next, but wanting nothing else but to comfort her.

“I think I might be in love with you too,” you said once you found the words, biting your bottom lip, in a failed attempt to stop you from smiling. 

“You think?” she asked hopefully.

“Oh, no. I don't think so. I am sure of it,” you giggled, a soft red hue creeping over your cheeks. “I've had the biggest crush on you for years now. So yeah… there's that,” you looked down at your feet, unable to meet her eyes.

It took Florence a full second to jump on top of you, causing the both of you to fall on the mattress. She, somehow, wrapped her arms around your body, holding you tightly against her and started to leave soft wet kisses all over your face.

“Okay then, we tell him alright?” she said once she was done kissing you.

You nodded, a smile forming on your lips, “We tell him,” you said before taking her lips in between yours.

[...]

The both of you lied, unintentionally that is. Too caught up in your own little world, neither of you realised that two weeks had passed since your agreement and Toby was still clueless about you, his best friend, dating his sister. But lies have short legs.

“You’re so pretty,” you mumbled on Florence's lips in between kisses. 

“You're prettier,”  she whispered. 

“Flo, anyone could walk in any second,” but still your lips wouldn’t dare to leave hers.

“Just five more minutes,” she said, as her hand slipped under your shirt. 

Your back arched like a cat against the couch. It was comfortable really, the two of you, pretty much dry humping, on the tiny couch. But she somehow made it work, all because she wanted some time along for the two of you. 

“So this is what you two are up to,” you heard someone say. 

“Shit.”

“Fuck.”

“I knew it,” Raffie smiled to herself. “I fucking knew it!” She was now clapping and laughing, as if she had been told the funniest joke ever.

“Raffie, not too loud,” you said, trying to keep her quiet. 

“Shut it!” Florence said, annoyed at her little sister.

“Raffie?” but it was too late. “What are you laughing at?” you heard Toby said before walking into the living room. You watched his smile drop once he had a full picture of the three of you. 

“Toby, I…” you tried, but the words wouldn’t come out. 

“Why are you on top of her?” he asked Florence. Toby knew the reason why, but he had to ask. “Y/n, why is my sister on top of you?”

“Tobes, I swear it’s not that big of a deal, okay?” Florence jumped in. 

“My sister and my best friend…” you prepared yourself for the worst. “...had been lying to me,” and then you realised that nothing could have prepared you for that. Because Toby didn’t look angry, or resentful, or furious. He looked hurt, disappointed, confused and heartbroken.

“Toby, please just—,” his sister tried to speak.

“I don’t care that you two have been fucking around, that’s your bussines,” he said bitterly. “I care that you two lied, and only God knows for how long,” he muttered, storming off. 

“Oh, shit,” Raffie couldn’t help herself, getting a glare from her sister. “Right, sorry.”

“No, fuck that,” you run after him. “Toby! Toby, wait up.”

“Y/n, wait” Florence said, now running after the two of you. 

“Okay, I won’t miss this,” Raffie said, quickly following her sister.

“Just hear me out, okay?” you said, once you got ahead of him, making it impossible for him to leave. Actually, he could leave if he wanted to, he was stronger than you, all the times the two of you would play ‘fight’ when kids had proven it to you. But he stayed. 

“Okay,” you said, swallowing the lump that had formed on your throat. “Remember all the teasing, the jokes, the comments about me liking Florence?” you waited for him to answer but he only nodded. “Well, it was all true, Tobes. I really like her, I have for a while now,” you smiled. “No, fuck that, I love her, okay?”

Florence felt her tummy sink, she had to get used to hearing you say that you loved her. 

“Yes!” Raffie cheered to herself. 

“I didn’t tell you about us, because I didn’t want you to be upset. But now I realise that lying to you was a shitty thing to do. 

“Really shitty,” he nodded. 

“I’m really sorry that I lied to you. You are my best friend, I shouldn't be keeping secrets from you. I don’t want to lose you, Tobes,” you huffed, tears burning your eyes. “I really am sorry.”

After what felt like an eternity of silence, he spoke up. “You won’t lose me, Y/n,” he breathed out. “I get it, you like her,” he huffed. “Of all the people you could have had, you chose her,” he said, rolling his eyes, but there was a tint of mischief in his voice. 

“Hey! I’m here,” Florence pretended to sound hurt, but she was glad Toby was giving in.

He glared at her, before counting. “Still, it doesn't make up for the lying.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Just promise me you won’t lie to me ever again, okay?”

“I won’t, I promise,” you quickly nodded. “I pinky promise,” you said, raising your finger.

He looked down at your finger while a smile was forming on his lips, he remembered the first the two of you made that kind of promise: he was 6 and you were about 5, at first he had laughed at you; but then he realised how much it meant to you, and then he understood that you would always keep to your promises. It became your thing. The small gesture warmed his heart because he knew that this time it wouldn’t be any different than before. 

He looked back up at you, and after he playfully rolled his eyes at you, he hooked his finger with yours. Once the pact was sealed, you wrapped your arms around him, holding him tightly against your body. 

“I love you, Tobes. I’m really sorry that I lied to you,” you whispered into his shirt. 

“Love you too, Y/n,” he said, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Now, get out of here,” he said, carefully pushing you away and toward Florence. “I need a drink, you guys want a drink?” he said, making his way inside the house, not really expecting an answer. 

“Well…” Florence said, wrapping her arms around your waist, as you placed yours on her shoulders. “That wasn’t as bad as it could have been,” she chuckled. 

“Yeah, I guess so,” you smiled at her before connecting your lips to hers, but stopped once you heard some clearing their throat. 

The both of you looked at the source of the noise, “Too soon?” Florence joked. 

“Oh, shit, sorry,” you quickly mumbled. 

“No, it’s okay. I will have to get used to this eventually,” Toby said, gesturing to the two of you. Before taking his final step inside the house, he looked at you with a stern look. “She’s my sister, if you hurt her I’ll deal with you” he then looked at Florence. “She’s my best friend, same thing goes for you.”

You, kind of, expected that ultimate at some point, but not for Florence to receive the same one.

“What?” he said as he realised how confused the two of you looked. “I care about the two of you, okay? Don’t fuck it up,” he, sarcastically, smiled and finally left your sight. 

“Well, that was… interesting. But now it’s over so I’m bored again,” Raffie said. “You guys want to watch a movie?”

The both of you looked at her and burst into laughter, relief washing over the two of you.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

[bracketsoffear]

Mexican Gothic (Silvia Moreno-Garcia) "In 1950s Mexico City, beautiful young socialite Noemí Taboada receives a letter from her cousin Catalina, begging for help. She firmly believes that her English husband, Virgil Doyle, intends to poison her. Suspecting that Virgil may be after Catalina's money, Noemí's father, Leocadio, sends her to the Doyle home, High Place, which is located in the mountains outside of a small town named El Triunfo. Once there, Noemí is struck by the strange and unwelcoming atmosphere of the Doyles' house and the controlling and patronising attitude of its inhabitants. Catalina is proclaimed to be suffering from consumption and Noemí is mostly kept away from her cousin. Noemí spends her time learning about the Doyle family, which also includes Florence Doyle and the frail family patriarch, Howard. The family has a history of incestuous marriages and deep intergenerational traumas, such as one of Howard's daughters, Ruth, killing several family members before shooting herself."

SPOILERS BELOW CUT

Rappaccini's Daughter (Nathaniel Hawthorne) "Giovanni Guasconti, a young student renting a room in Padua, has a view from his quarters of a beautiful garden. Here, he looks at Beatrice, the beautiful daughter of Dr. Giacomo Rappaccini, a botanist who works in isolation. Beatrice is confined to the lush and locked gardens, which are filled with exotic poisonous plants grown by her father. Having fallen in love, Giovanni enters the garden and secretly meets with Beatrice a number of times, while ignoring his mentor, Professor Pietro Baglioni. Professor Baglioni is a rival of Dr. Rappaccini and he warns Giovanni that Rappaccini is devious and that he and his work (which involves using poison as medicine) should be avoided.

Giovanni notices Beatrice's strangely intimate relationship with the plants as well as the withering of fresh regular flowers and the death of an insect when exposed to her skin or breath. On one occasion, Beatrice embraces a plant in a way that she seems part of the plant itself; then she talks to the plant, "Give me thy breath, my sister, for I am faint with common air."

Giovanni eventually realizes that Beatrice, having been raised in the presence of poison, has developed an immunity to it and has become poisonous herself. A gentle touch of her hand leaves a purple print on his wrist. Beatrice urges Giovanni to look past her poisonous exterior and see her pure and innocent essence, creating great feelings of doubt and confusion in Giovanni.

In the end, Giovanni becomes poisonous himself: insects die when they come into contact with his breath. Giovanni is troubled by this, which he sees as a curse, and he blames Beatrice. Professor Baglioni gives him an antidote to cure Beatrice and free her from her father's cruel experiment. However, when Beatrice drinks the antidote, she becomes sick and dies. Before realizing that Beatrice is dying, Dr. Rappaccini excitedly welcomes the love between his two creatures, his daughter and her suitor, Giovanni, who has been transformed so that he can now be a true and worthy companion to Beatrice.

While Beatrice is dying, Professor Baglioni looks down from a window into the garden and triumphantly shouts "Rappaccini! Rappaccini! and is THIS the upshot of your experiment!""

When she begins to sleepwalk and experience strange dreams and visions, Noemí decides that she must leave the Doyle household, only to be told that she cannot leave. They reveal that Howard discovered a strain of mushroom that has a symbiotic relationship with humans. The Doyles use this fungus and remain at High Place, the house infused with the spores of the mushrooms, which has grown inside its walls and all around it, in order to heal themselves and prolong their lives. As the fungus's potency is lessened depending on the individual's genetics, the Doyles have intermarried in order to ensure that their offspring can also receive these benefits. Because it is interlaced with mycelium and infested with the mushroom's spores, the house can hold memories, which the family refers to as the "gloom". The spores can also help the Doyles control people who have inhaled them, which frightens Noemí. She grows more horrified, however, when she learns that Howard's wife Agnes was used as a sacrifice to grow the spores - and that Howard can use the gloom to take over the bodies of family members, which he's used to further preserve his own life.

[evita-shelby]

i’m a huge fan of Jenna as Flora and in that spirit can i get little glimpse of the relationship between her and Tommy. Diane is the first daughter but Flora strikes me as a more quiet one and kinda reserved like Tommy.

Can there be like a moment now that Diane is out of the house (chasing her man) and Charlie is out trying to forge his own path Flora kinda feels some loneliness. Or she’s really scared due to WW2 fearmongering and asks her daddy (who works in the government) if their family is gonna be okay?

I kinda love in the show how Tommy let his guard down with ruby (rip OG) and showed her a side of him he doesn’t really show anyone not even lizzy. He was truly relaxed and jovial when he had her in his arms

Safe

Some Florence and Tommy fluff, sprinkled with angst and mild spoilers for Tie your heart to mine

Gif by @shxrpeava

1940

When Florence turns ten, war is declared on Germany and its allies.

Charlie leaves and trains as a pilot, Diane rushes to marry Tom because neither want to die without knowing what could have been after nearly he almost died in the Battle of River Plate, Gabe begins joining a boot camp after school to do his part and Flora finds herself all alone in Arrow House most of the time.

At school they are taught what to do in case the enemy attacks, how to provide basic first aid and that Germans will come like they do in her father’s nightmares.

Daddy is hardly home, mami is busy making sure everyone is prepared and eventually everyone is told to come here and hunker down because it won’t be long until the bombings start.

And yet, having the house filled to the brim has her feeling lonely.

Doesn’t help everyone whispers about what the Nazis are doing to their people.

Her mother mutters a curse to them , the Germans, especially one called Mengel, when she is told by Esme about what the doctors are doing to Romany they capture.

Florence Eleanor Shelby is scared.

Scared that Tom died in Dunkirk, scared that Charlie gets captured by the nazis and he gets tortured for being Rom, scared that the German bombers will kill them here.

So she goes to the one who can tell her the truth about it.

Not mami who lies and tells her she sees the war coming to an end and them defeating the nazis and their allies.

Flora goes to her father, the man who is second to the leader of his party and part of the Prime Minister’s inner circle.

He’s working, or hiding from everyone, in his office.

She is careful to not make much noise and yet he knows its her even without looking up from his papers until she is tugging at his sleeve for his attention.

He stops working and lifts her on his lap with a groan.

“Getting too big for this, sweetheart.” He said into her dark hair.

There is something about her dad that always makes her feel safe.

Between the smell of cigarettes, the mint he chews to hide it and the cologne mom makes for him in the stillroom, Florence feels safe.

Even when he isn’t here, she just comes into his office and wears his coat to pretend he is there with her.

It makes her feel safe, just like mami feels safe when she hides in her parlor from everyone and wears daddy’s shirts to sleep.

“Daddy, are we going to die?” she asks once she is comfortable.

“I don’t know, sweetheart.” He answered honestly. “But your mum sees Charlie coming home and Dia being happy with her Tom, you and Gabe growing up in a world after the war, so maybe if we work hard enough, we can have that future.”

“Do you really think so?” she asks knowing sometimes mami’s visions don’t come true.

“Yeah, I think so. Your mom’s never wrong.” He said before kissing the top of her head.

“Can I stay here with you?” she asks hoping he says yes.

“Don’t you want to play with your cousins, Flora?” he asks knowing why she’d run here.

“They’re too loud.” She answers and he laughs quietly.

They didn’t like too much noise, house feels too small and sometimes they just need to go outside where no one can find them.

“I’ll make you a deal, Florence, you let me finish up my work and we go to the stables once I’m done.” Her dad says and she nods in agreement.

“Can I ride Helsing with you?” she asks, dad’s favorite horse was the big black one that hates everyone except mami.

Says it reminds him of him.

“Only if you don’t tell your mother.”

[mexswiftcan]

🐾First Listen🐾

Hi! I'm gonna post my first impressions of TTPD! And probably will make another post when I listen to it a second time reading the lyrics

⚠️MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD⚠️

🐾Fortnight (feat. Post Malone)

omg it sounds amazing

ALCOHOLIC??????

endless February hits home...

Post Malone's voice is incredible

when she says "I want to kill her" is she referring to herself?

daaaamn, nbnc was her telling us she really did want to kill him

MOVE TO FLORIDA????

I want to cry so bad right now

🐾The Tortured Poets Department

nice drums!

straight from TTPD or from the psych ward? lmao

she uses typewriters now haha

sounds kinda like 80's music, I looooove it

f bomb

hahahah name drop was funny

now I'm crying

she really did want to get married, this is so sad

i thought i was gonna be ok because my ex broke up with me over a month ago, but i wasn't prepared, this album has hit home so hard

🐾My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

you should've seen him when he first got me?? so relatable

still low-key 80's sound

her voice sounds soooooo wonderful

this one is personal too, i can't stop crying

stole my tortured heart sounds like "my heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue"

told me i'm better off, but i'm not... so this is in her delulu era

this is starting to be too much for me

🐾Down Bad

DAMN THE VOCALS

sent me back where i came from

crying at the gym lmao, been there

i think this is my favorite album

in a field? sounds like twilight to me, when Edward leaves Bella

the suicide intrusive thoughts are so loud damn

this is very situationship like imo

i'm not ready for track 5

🐾So Long, London

sounds like voices in your head, like when you go crazy

omggggg the soundssss

i'm crying even harder

stopped cpr? = i can't find a pulse in ylm?

stitches undone = "you drew stars around my scars, but now I'm bleeding"

this is so sad, i can't

where were the clues? = "were there clues I didn't see?"

she's gonna send me to a psych ward

you found someone, did he cheat?

🐾But Daddy I Love Him

dress unbuttoned wedding dress maybe

Florida again????

they protested too much

i know i'm crazy but he's the 1, so delulu and relatable

bitching and moaning lmaoooo, her people really did hate the person she's talking about

thinking they can change the beat of my heat sounds like ylm in some way

i feel the pain of when everyone tells you to run, but you're in love

now everyone loves him but it's over, or did i hear that wrong?

🐾Fresh Out the Slammer

he was with her????

her voice is so pretty

i will never lose my baby again is so sad, like she thought there was a chance

the changeeeeeee omggggggg

HIS AMERICAN DREAMS = "salute to me, I'm your American Queen"

the park = centennial park

imaginary rings, he couldn't even afford paper rings lmao

what did she do her time for?

🐾Florida!!! (feat. Florence + the Machine)

it's true she's a cheat??

woooow the way she sings Florida, the beats

my cheating husband disappeared???? again, nbnc, i probably heard that wrong tbh

all the bodies that have been in my body = "but like the dollar in your pocket, it's been spent and traded in, you can't change where it's been, reminds me of me"

did she say fuck me in Florida? or fuck me up Florida?

this song sounds so chaotic, i love it

who tf lives in Florida? that's all i wanna know

🐾Guilty as Sin?

again, her vocals are amazing

am i allowed to cry?

i will need a dictionary for this one lmao, i can't understand the chorus at all, like i can barely recognize words

inside a vault?

without touching his skin, how can i be guilty as sin? so they both cheated or what

crucify me anyway, like Jesus but also reminds me of "burning witches even if you aren't one"

this has glitter pen hints imo

🐾Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?

the pianoooo

you don't get to tell me about sad

crash the party, hits different ("I slur your name 'til someone puts me in a car, I stopped receiving invitations") and betty ("but if I just showed up at your party")

we should be afraid??

what scandal was contained?

i mean, in a way i am scared of her

that bass sounded like pink floyd - esque wow

THE ASYLUM

her voiceeeee is just

that's why we're still singing along

her vocals are so raw, yet beautiful

again, the piano

🐾I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

sounds like this is about the rat

her voice

sounds like old music, i can't pinpoint which decade

i'll show you heaven = "I could show you incredible things magic, madness, heaven, sin"

dangerous man for her or for her image?

🐾loml

sounds soft, like folklore

from one kiss to getting married

never quite buried

you took me to hell = "Hell was the journey but it brought me heaven"

i felt a hole, i know that feeling

shit talk me under the table = "it's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me, at tea time, everybody agrees"

i wish i could recall how we almost had it all

it was legendary = "i didn't come here to make friends, we were born to be suburban legends"

the pianoooooo

the background vocals sound like tolerate it

🐾I Can Do It With a Broken Heart

she's having the time of her life, is she talking about herself?

who is that in the background? Jack? Sounds English so idk

22 vibes

you know you're good if you can do it with a broken heart

i can pass this test = "never impressed by me acing your tests"

fake it 'til you make it = "and it's fine to fake it 'til you make it 'til you do, 'til it's true"

i love the vibes, kinda glitter pen

the rawnesssssss

🐾The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

how am i already crying?

they ghosted you, great unfollowing

i want to know, me too girl

the breathingggg

your queen had gone, his American dreams? his American queen?

the piano keeps slaying

he definitely cheated damn

she keeps comparing herself to Jesus

now he crashed her party? betty??????? i guess they didn't end up together, like she wanted

🐾The Alchemy

chemicals sounds like meds

oh, yeah, hospital and best sleep lmao

ditch the clowns, get the crown = "when they sent home the horses and the rodeo clowns" / "you were my crown, now I'm in exile seeing you out"

the greatest in the league : smallest man who ever lived

the beats are so good

🐾Clara Bow

who looks like Clara?

she keeps talking about dying

is she talking to herself?

never seeing the lights of Manhattan / the suits in LA = "someday i'll be living in a big old city, and all you're ever gonna be is mean"

dazzling = bejeweled

beauty is a beast in all fours demanding for more

be heavenly

YOU LOOK LIKE TAYLOR SWIFT

So she IS Clara

[apirateslifefor--smee]

support women's wrongs: a majke de spell playlist ( @majkemaniiia )

prairie girl by rah rah

i did something bad by taylor swift

bring me to life by evanescence

pierre by ryn weaver

nothing matters by the last dinner party

free by florence and the machine

you know i'm no good by amy winehouse

hounds of love by kate bush

still sane by lorde

run by daughter

prairie girl by rah rah

I am a prairie girl Straight to the bone I'll cut you off on the drive back home I spend my winters alone Yeah there's just no place quite like home

I feel like this song is so underrated lol I used to LOVE it in high school. This song is about being a #tough girl but also maybe you fall in love a little bit but NO YOU DON'T you get the hell out of there before you can get hurt. And it just felt like a good place to start for Magica who is very self-sufficient and independent but I also think somewhere deep down she is kind of lonely... but anyway it's fine she's a prairie girl!!

2. i did something bad by taylor swift

They say I did something bad Then why's it feel so good? They say I did something bad But why's it feel so good? Most fun I ever had And I'd do it over and over and over again if I could It just felt so good, good

Sorry sorry one thing about me is I'll sneak tswizzle onto these playlists. Obviously this song is about a lot of different things and not necessarily about summoning demons but like lowkey it could be. Magica is kind of the weird one in her family for being into shadow magic and I just think she'd be like ok u say i did something bad... but WHY'S IT FEEL SO GOOD!!!!

3. bring me to life by evanescence

Wake me up inside (save me) Call my name and save me from the dark (wake me up) Bid my blood to run (I can't wake up) Before I come undone (save me) Save me from the nothing I've become

Stay with me here lol. This is less about the lyrics and more about the VIBE. Like if there was ever a song to summon demons to it'd be this song. You know what I mean? I really don't think that's what this song is about but I just had to put it here for the vibes.

4. pierre by ryn weaver

And I fell for a vagabond, a month at tops Lied and said his bike was in the motor shop Drove my car once and made the tire pop Still we had some fun, till I came to 'Cause I wouldn't be with you

This song is about hooking up with a bunch of guys who are probably con artists/grifters/liars because you're running from your feelings about someone. And idk if that's true for Magica but I DO think she is like simultaneously really savvy but also drawn to liars at the same time. Maybe because she is a powerful lady and can handle herself so she might as well have a little fun. Also I just think this song is whimsical and witchy idk you get the vibe.

5. nothing matters by the last dinner party

I put my heart inside your palms My home in your arms Now we know nothing matters Nothing matters

I also kind of put this song here more for the vibes than the lyrics because it sounds kind of witchy and whimsical but I also think it goes with the theme of Magica's hot girl energy. She's here to fuck around and get what she wants and as I said she can handle herself etc so if ppl try to use her she will also use them!

6. free by florence and the machine

I'm always running from something I push it back, but it keeps on coming And being clever never got me very far

Once again the theme of running from something! Magica is always on the run but I think she also knows herself really well and knows what she needs to feel #free. Whether that's dancing or magic or something else. Also once again we are here for vibes. Florence is always a witchy vibe.

7. you know i'm no good by amy winehouse

I cheated myself Like I knew I would I told you I was trouble You know that I'm no good

To me this song is about thinking you're the bad guy and then finding out actually the person you're with is also the bad guy and still managed to hurt u even though u thought u were immune to that! And I think it gets at Magica's vulnerability despite this powerful witch exterior she has.

8. hounds of love by kate bush

Among the hounds of love And feel your arms surround me I've always been a coward And never know what's good for me Oh, here I go, don't let me go

I am obsessed with this song lately?? I wanted to give Magica one love song bc I think she should get one <3 This song is about feelings coming for u like a pack of hounds and you're like you know what let's just give into it! And I know this is not Magica's usual vibe but once in a while we see her soft side and I love that <3

9. still sane by lorde

Only bad people live to see Their likeness set in stone What does that make me?

I loveeee this song. It's so creepy and evocative. I think this song could be about the consequences of making yourself very powerful and like dealing with the fallout of that. What happens when Magica faces what she's done?? Will she ever?? Much to consider...

10. run by daughter

I don't know what we're doing I don't know what we've done But the fire is coming So I think we should run

Returning to our run theme! I don't know what the speaker in this song has done to make them have to run, but Magica is always careful not to have anyone look too closely at what's going on with her demon niece! And again I thought this song had a very creepy/witchy vibe so it seemed like a good place to end.

[talkingharrystyles]

So depending on where the kids are I just think it’s absolutely hilarious that Olivia wasn’t with Harry this week. Her day with the kids starts tomorrow so she’s probably on her way back to the UK if that’s where they are but I am just floored. Like that little pop shoot she did was not in her favour because people were just roasting her and she went back into hiding again because she knew that she wasn’t real received. Fact that she missed a week with him shows me that his team probably told her to fuck off. Harry’s last concert yesterday and they have to start making their way to Venice probably sometime tomorrow. And I literally can’t wait to see what happens because we all know Florence is only walking the red carpet and not doing any interviews. She will probably walk the red carpet by herself or maybe with Gemma or Chris and I doubt we will see them all together as a full cast on the carpet. Also it hasn’t even been fully confirmed because Harry’s team hasn’t responded two people reaching out to him asking if he will be at the festival. It’s just a really funny

So rumours are that Harry’s team told Olivia to leave and basically don’t come back until told. And after her missing this week I’m thinking it’s true

She’s been hiding in LA; obviously she wants to be at the shows but she can’t, and Harry is glowing because of it. Olivia doesn’t work so she easily could’ve gone!

Daisy and Otis should be returning back to school soon, whether it’s America or England! They might even be homeschooled in this country?! I’m not sure

But either way next week could be very interesting with Venice and we will have another week of happy Harry!!!!

[fallingsunflower]

I'm sorry to bring this up and I know you're tired of talking about it. But it's not holivia related it's more Harry and Florence. What are your opinions on Harry not supporting Florence but instead publicly supporting Olivia. Obviously I don't literally mean supporting but basically being seen with her and playing boyfriend and girlfriend, despite every single drama, she the main person was involved in, which (to the public) kind of "shows" he supports her and not Florence if you get what I mean? What are your thoughts on them two overshadowing her and indirectly involving her in their circus show by starting unecessary rumours? I think this is one of the things I will probably never (or have trouble) forgiving Harry for. With Olivia it was expected because it's in her nature to behave like an immature teenage girl who can't live without drama because it's the only way she gets attention. But Harry on the other hand, I just wish he did more to support Florence. And yeah I know you've been told what went on behind the scenes but I don't know so I feel like it would be unfair for me to say Olivia's been blackmailing Harry for whatever reason which could be a reason why he decided to stay quiet and not support Florence. But what are your opinions on this if what you heard was true and if it wasn't true. I hope that makes sense.

It makes sense and tbh my answers will probably be similar to what you've heard previously if you've been here for a while!

I hate to be blunt but Harry's lack of support for Florence was not shocking to me. I would never in a million years expect him to publicly support someone - taking random photos with them doesn't count. He's not that type of person and it comes off as selfish. Now I don't actually believe he is selfish or absorbed but it certainly comes off like that imo.

What I think happened was that Harry got sucked into Olivia-land without realizing the consequences it would have. It was originally supposed to be a quick thing to promote the film, from what I've been told. I don't believe anyone could have predicted the shithole that it would have become. My best guess from putting the puzzle pieces together is that Harry and Florence were friends at some point, like during filming, and then at some point Florence realized "oh this film is about holivia - got it" and kind of removed herself from the situation. Harry, who I suspect is suuuuper passive and introverted, probably didn't even want to confront Florence or anyone therefore they just fell out.

Does that make sense? I'm distracted as I answer this because I'm watching The Bachelor LMAO but lmk if it doesn't and I can re-explain

[denimbex1986]

'In Christopher Nolan's new epic Oppenheimer, Florence Pugh portrays Jean Tatlock, J. Robert Oppenheimer's lover who meets a tragic end when she dies by suicide. Though Pugh is barely in the three hour plus film, her performance is impactful, and leaves the viewer wanting more.

If you got out of the movie theaters and immediately thought to Google Jean Tatlock, you're in the right place. Here's the true story of the woman depicted on screen:

She was a psychiatrist.

Jean Frances Tatlock was the daughter of John Strong Perry Tatlock, a professor of English, and Marjorie Tatlock (née Fenton). Born in Ann Arbor, Michigan, Tatlock went to Cambridge Rindge and Latin School in Cambridge, Massachusetts before enrolling in Vassar. She graduated in 1935 and then went to Berkeley to complete prerequisites for medical school. Later, she attended Stanford Medical School, where she graduated in 1941 as a psychiatrist.

She was a member of the Communist Party.

While at Stanford, Tatlock wrote for the Western Worker, the Communist Party's west coast periodical.

Tatlock met J. Robert Oppenheimer in Berkley in 1936.

At the time, she was a graduate student and Oppenheimer was a physics professor. Oppenheimer described their relationship during his 1954 security hearing as follows:

In the spring of 1936, I had been introduced by friends to Jean Tatlock, the daughter of a noted professor of English at the university; and in the autumn, I began to court her, and we grew close to each other. We were at least twice close enough to marriage to think of ourselves as engaged. Between 1939 and her death in 1944 I saw her very rarely. She told me about her Communist Party memberships; they were on again, off again affairs, and never seemed to provide for her what she was seeking. I do not believe that her interests were really political. She loved this country and its people and its life. She was, as it turned out, a friend of many fellow travelers and Communists, with a number of whom I was later to become acquainted.

Oppenheimer reportedly proposed to Tatlock twice. After he wed Kitty Harrison, the scientist still saw Tatlock a few times, and some historians believe he had an affair with Tatlock while working on the Manhattan Project.

Furthermore, Tatlock introduced Oppenheimer to John Donne's poetry. It's possible that Oppenheimer named the "Trinity" test as a tribute to her and the verse.

She questioned her sexuality.

Tatlock reportedly wondered whether or not she was gay. According to An Atomic Love Story by Shirley Streshinsky and Patricia Klaus, she wrote to a friend, "there was a period when I thought I was homosexual. I still am, in a way, forced to believe it, but really, logically, I am sure that I can't be because of my un-masculinity."

There's some mystery around her 1944 death.

While Jean was being treated at Mount Zion hospital in San Francisco for depression, her father found her dead in her apartment. There was an unsigned suicide note, which read, "I am disgusted with everything... To those who loved me and helped me, all love and courage. I wanted to live and to give and I got paralyzed somehow. I tried like hell to understand and couldn't... I think I would have been a liability all my life—at least I could take away the burden of a paralyzed soul from a fighting world." Most agree Tatlock died by suicide.

But some historians—including Kai Bird and Martin Sherwin, authors of American Prometheus, which forms the basis for Nolan's Oppenheimer—question her death.

"According to the coroner, Tatlock had eaten a full meal shortly before her death," Bird and Sherwin write. "If it was her intention to drug and then drown herself, as a doctor she had to have known that undigested food slows the metabolizing of drugs into the system. The autopsy report contains no evidence that the barbiturates had reached her liver or other vital organs. Neither does the report indicate whether she had taken a sufficiently large dose of barbiturates to cause death. To the contrary, as previously noted, the autopsy determined that the cause of death was asphyxiation by drowning."

The authors continue, "These curious circumstances are suspicious enough—but the disturbing information contained in the autopsy report is the assertion that the coroner found 'a faint trace of chloral hydrate' in her system. If administered with alcohol, chloral hydrate is the active ingredient of what was then commonly called a 'Mickey Finn'—knockout drops. In short, several investigators have speculated, Jean may have been 'slipped a Mickey,' and then forcibly drowned in her bathtub."

Of course, this is all speculation; Bird and Sherwin agree there's not enough evidence to definitively say one way or another.'

[stylesunchained]

No mention of Harry in the texts. In the video the nanny says she saw Olivia “acting giddy” about Harry on set when she brought Daisy there. Olivia was “putting her face in her hands and saying ‘he’s so young!’” (Which… Ew if that’s true). Then she said Jason told her Olivia was “fucking someone” and she remembered Olivia acting that way, so she assumed it was Harry. Her story was kind of confusing. She also said Jason told her Olivia told him that Florence and Harry were “fucking” and that Flo had a boyfriend.

Her story seemed very much not confusing to me. I’ve seen the video. And the thing about Florence, I’ll say it again: seems to me Olivia lied and used Florence as an excuse to buy herself some time before Jason, WHO I KNOW IS FRIENDS WITH HER AND ZACH, probably cleared it up with them and found out Olivia was lying. Nothing confusing about that to me.

[aliypop]

Black To Black : Chapter 3

Previous Chapters

Chapter 1 

    Chapter 2

Word Count: 4,723

Writers Notes: Chapter 3! which is starting off in Season 3 and ending in the beginning of chapter 4, I literally have basically binged Peaky Blinders in the span of a week! and I’m gonna do it again!. Anyways this chapter I’m introducing 2 new OC’s Lorcan, and Vadoma. shoutout to @herosneednotapply​ and her OC Florence!

Warning: Show violence and language Suggestive themes

Pairing: OC ( Eleanor Williams ) / Thomas Shelby and OC

 ( Claudette Williams) x Finn Shelby

Plot: What happens When the Williams Family makes their grand return back to London from a war stricken France to only find the rocks of war and the runts of crime the Shelby family slowly leaking into their world,

1924 - Small Heath

"Finn, Isaiah, stay out here, " Julian said as the two nodded, "An you too, Dette," pointing his finger at her as she grumbled and groaned, 

"Fine..." rolling her eyes, "Keep your secrets." 

 Walking into the shop, Julian passed Michael, who was sitting next to Polly, and Esme, who stood next to John, and front and center was Thomas, as always. From behind the door, Claudette tried to have her ears pressed up against it. Something told her that what they were about to say would contain some liking to her, 

"The letter Julian..." Polly asked, pointing her cigarette toward her nephew. "Oh right, " he cleared his throat, 

To whom it may concern,

On behalf of The Black Dahlia shipping company in Harlem, New York City, I would like to meet with you about an offer I doubt you can refuse. Nonetheless,  to cut to the chase, you have something I want rather than someone I want back.

 I'll be in London next week, and I've already scheduled an appointment with your lovely secretary Ms. Stark was it?

With love,

   Leslie

"Something tells me, Tommy, this ain't gonna end well," Lorcan said, walking in and hanging his hat on the coat rack. Tommy glanced up at him, the shit-eating grin on his face that looked similar to their own father. 

"Lorcan, Where the hell have you been." Polly side-eyed, looking him up and down

"Did the girl not tell you," taking his cigarette from his ear and lighting it, "I went to outbid on a fuckin horse against The Williams family."

"Outbid or stole?" Polly asked, glaring at him, 

"Whatever keeps their fuckin priss of a bookie out our business." puffing his smoke towards Michael,

 "That's the thing, the Williams are our fuckin business..." Arthur said, his temper getting to him, 

"We got one already fuckin lurkin around 'ere. Tommy's been doing business with another fuckin one of 'em!"

"Let's not forget Julian sneakin around their brothel."

"They're good people if you got to know 'em, Arthur," Julian said as John sat and drank his whiskey. He knew at any moment, a fight would ensure itself right in front of him, 

"It's only a matter of time before they come here and infiltrate us and take everything we fuckin own." banging his fist on the table, 

Tommy knew Arthur had a point, and as his kid brother, he'd entertain it to make him happy.

But on the other hand, Tommy knew so much about Eleanor that he didn't even know about Grace, her favorite color to how she conducted herself for the public and behind closed doors. She was a true leader and was more of one than any military general he'd ever met.

"I say we hear what this lady's got to say, right, Tom?"

"Tommy?" John looked at him. He knew that look too well. He'd only seen him have that look on his face twice in France. They were for women he'd truly admired, "Yeah, Michael, you'll be picking her up from the station and driving her to my office, John, Arthur, you're coming with me."

"What about me?" Lorcan snarled, 

"You will try to keep the pain in my ass, who's sitting outside the door trying to listen in, busy."

"How the fuck do I do that."

"Take her out for  Ice cream, pickpocketing whatever girls do in 1924." he sighed, his train of thought broken when he heard his office phone ring.

"Tommy, the phones for you,"  Lizzie said, 

"Who was it," his voice deadpanned and tired,

"An Eleanor Williams."

"Tell her I'll be there." Polly quirked her eyebrow. Watching his body language, she could sense something different about him that wasn't present when he was around Grace. Of course, like any worrying parental figure, she'd find out sooner or later. 

London 

"If it isn't Eleanor Williams, the voice of London," one of the tailors said as she sat in the shop of Ede & Ravenscroft, a fur coat draped over her dress, 

"Coming in to pick up your sister's new suit?"

"Sending a friend off with a gift." the melancholy glee in her voice. Thomas had been getting ready for a wedding with just the right amount of peace. But still, something told him not to do it. It was because he was obsessed with how she made him feel or because she was carrying his child.

"This friend sounds important." 

"He is..." Eleanor laughed. Eleanor had so much on her plate. With their businesses expanding to America, and the growth of her namesake at the club, she was assigned to soon leave and explore the states to arrange a few deals. But how would she move on when she still had unfinished business here. Sure they rid the streets of Sabini, but she had another threat wanting to steal what her family made.

"Elle, what the hell is this for."

"There's a little gathering at my home. I need a second ear in my corner since Julian declined," she smirked as Thomas noticed the cheeky tone in her voice, 

"The truth Eleanor."

"I think you're an exceptional man."

"About why I'm here."

"You two must be the happy couple..."  another tailor said, looking between the two, trying not to point out the obvious, 

"We're not a couple."

"We aren't, but you proposed to me!" Eleanor grasped her pearls as she swatted at him. Tommy was taken aback at first until she winked at him, "She's had too much Champagne to drink." Tommy added as the tailor nodded, 

"So you are the happy couple?"

"No, just fucking with, we're just friends, and he's getting fitted for his ceremonial suit." Tommy had a soft and sad look on his face. It really did hit him. He was getting married without saying his peace to Eleanor,

 "And he'll need two. He's got a special occasion tonight."

"Are you sure you can afford it? " Tommy looked at Eleanor as she put her hand up, "Why don't you add it under the accounts of Black Pearl textiles. See if you can afford that." she smiled, as Tommy then looked at the tailor, nodding his head in agreement, "And while you're at it, nothing but the best  fabrics for Thomas Shelby," she scoffed, watching the man scurry off,

 "I think you've scared him off."

"Good, It's what that bastard deserves. My grandfather used to shop here!" she fumed, 

"Elle, calm down, look at me, tell me about this event of yours, yeah." Eleanor took a deep breath. She then sat, 

" It's a charity ball formed with the Foundling Hospital to help poor blacks in the community." Eleanor smiled, "Didn't know you were into charity."

"God loves a cheerful giver, and so do crooked cops who don't bat an eye as to why a family with such pigmentation is so wealthy," she responded, 

"And where do I come in."

"I'm getting there, " she sighed, "The Italian mafia has landed in New York. Some of Sabini's men told Changretta's son. About the little parlor trick you all did with the licenses back in 22," lighting her cigarette as she used hers to light his, 

"Yes, go on,"

"Well, he's a power-hungry little prick. He's taking every business under the rug bit by bit. He's already sent  a few threats to several of our own, and-"

"You need me as protection?" 

"No, I need you to hand out sandwiches..." she puffed out her cheeks, "Of course, and my mother wants to meet the man behind the Gin." 

"I hate you so much, Elle." he laughed, 

"You're the best, Shelby." she smiled, "It's the Connelly house in Kensington !"  she said, walking out the shops' door,

 "And where are you going?"

"You're buying me a dress?" she laughed, holding a few hundred pounds in her hand,

 "You fucking rat." he rolled his eyes. 

"Do I have to wear a gown..." Virginia grumbled as Bernadette watched the maids pick out her daughter's dress, "This is for the entire city to see you and, just once, grant us this one night." she asked as Claudette watched from the doorway, "I think she's perfect," Claudette shrugged, wearing one of Eleanors older gowns from 1910, 

"You look gorgeous, just like Eleanor did when she first wore it. Of course, you could gain a few pounds in it." Claudette nodded, "Mother, I invited a few friends, so I hope you don't mind that." Claudette sighed,

 "Oddly enough, I invited some gentlemen your age from wealthy businesses."

"I'll be sure to dance with them." 

"Oh, and Andre..." Bernadette turned his way, "Stand up straight,"

"I don't think he can." Virginia snickered, "Very funny speaking of which, you should go check on Eleanor." he smiled, 

"What's wrong with her,"

"She's been talking to herself."

"Lord, why now," Bernadette grumbled, walking out of Virginia's room. Guests were already arriving, and she was the hostess, 

"I can't tell him, not two days before his wedding. that would be rude." Eleanor began to pace, fanning herself, her dark blue beaded gown trailing behind her, 

"I'll talk to him tonight,"

"To who?" 

"Mother, I was-"

"Was what. You're not pregnant, are you? How could you be? You're our white pearl,"  Eleanor laughed. She'd lived 34 secretly slutty years, but as far as anyone could confirm, she was still her mother's impactful yet seductive pearl. "I was going over a deal in my head." she smiled, "I get it, this was your father and aunt's business, and it passed down to you." she fixed her headpiece of pearls and feathers, 

"But tonight, you are a woman of society, not a roughing thug." she handed Eleanor her gloves, 

"Now go."

"How do you tell a girl you like her?" Finn asked as Isaiah rolled his eyes. Tommy took a deep breath as he looked around the mansion, money everywhere. Tommy could sense why Eleanor never really enjoyed it. 

It was stuffy and perfect with its art deco remoldings, 

" You tell her,  kiss her, invite her for a drink. Hell, wear a tuxedo for her," Tommy mumbled, loosening up the bowtie. Claudette walked down the staircase, her lavender gown and pink sash belt dragging behind her. Finn's eyes had almost left out their sockets. He was left speechless, but his feet still remembered how to move. Running through the crowd of the many boys lining up to ask her for the first dance, 

 when Claudette turned, her eyes met straight away with "Finn..." she blushed. If she hadn't known any better, she'd have said he looked as sophisticated as Michael. He looked like a Cambridge man to everyone else, but he was still the Finn who John snuck Whiskey when Arthur wasn't looking. "Claudette, you look different." Isaiah nudged him, whispering, "Uh, neat." 

"He means to say beautiful."

"You think so?"

"Uh, Y-Yeah." Finn was red, "Are you gonna walk me down. Everyone's staring us down, like we're diseased or some shit." she mumbled, "Right, yeah."  Isaiah and Finn on each side of her walked her down the steps,  through the crowd of envious boys, 

"It's weird seeing you dressed like this, Dettie." Isaiah laughed, 

"I'm always dressed like this." she huffed

"I look stupid, Andre..." Virginia growled, walking uncomfortably down the stairs in her heels,  

"You go change. I'll stall for time." Andre smiled as Virginia ran up the steps, 

"Remember, smile..."  Bernadette whispered, her husband Louis standing next to Eleanor,  "Back straight, you've many to impress." Eleanor ignored her, scoping the room for any of Changretta's men. Walking down the steps, she thought of every plan and then some, clutching onto her fur shaw until she reached the middle platform. Her gaze was back on a peculiar crowd of the wait staff this time, 

"Ms. Williams, may I?" 

"Mr. Shelby, you may." she smiled as he took her hand,  helping her down the last few flights of steps, "New suit?" she asked as he pulled her close to him, 

" A friend bought it," he smirked, 

"Lucky friend." standing in the middle of the living room, turned ballroom, 

"Let the first dance commence." 

Although her father was progressive with the changing times, her mother was still very partial to dances such as the waltz. "We don't have to dance if you don't want to." Eleanor smiled, trying to walk away until she saw her mother gesturing for her to lead off the dance. Everything was all about appearances,

"I could use the practice for my wedding." Oh, that word, how he hated saying it to her face, knowing it wasn't Eleanor who'd be walking down the aisle. 

"I'm sure Grace will make a lovely dance partner." Positioning herself for the waltz, 

"Can you picture it?" 

"Picture what, Finn?"

"You and I together?" twirling her around,

 "As friends?" she questioned. Finn took a deep breath. He had been in love with Claudette since she started sneaking out into the streets of Small Heath when they were both four years old,

 "No, Claudette, together,"

"Are ya asking me to court ya?"  Claudette looked shocked, "I don't know what to say. Can I think about it?" Finn nodded as she kissed his cheek, "Thank you."

"I would like to make a toast," Eleanor said, standing in the dining room amongst every politician in London and the highest of social classes, 

"I would like to thank you all for coming and supporting our community and charity work." she smiled. It wasn't that Eleanor hated these events. She just hated that they had to pretend this wasn't another cover-up so her mother would feel that they were doing the right thing, 

"And I'd like to thank Thomas Shelby for his-"

BLAM!

"Everyone out!"

 Eleanor, Virginia, Andre, and Louis had their guns drawn, ready to blow the heads off anyone who felt brave enough to try. "You have something our boss wants." one of the soldiers said, 

"Tell him he's going to have to kill me first." cocking her gun pointing it toward the man's head, 

"Don't mind if I do." raising his gun at her, Eleanor puffed out her chest, closing her eyes screams from her family were heard. If she could be lifted of her family's expectations, she could be free, Eleanor could be in peace, she could-

BANG

"You..." Andre growled, his gun pointed at Tommy, "It's always fucking you!" Tommy stood there calm and collected, one being this was someone else's home, and two, Eleanor was standing r there. He didn't want to do anything that would make her think any less of him, " 22 to fucking now!" Andre growled, 

"When are you going to get your nose out our fucking family busi-" the barrel of  his sister's gun at his nose, 

"He's the reason your bar is outselling the crap table, so in my presence, you will show him some FUCKING RESPECT!" there it was, the passion, the catalyst of too much whiskey and too many old-fashioned knocked back, "He's a snake," Louis mumbled under his breath, Virginia looked between her family and Tommy, 

"He saved our lives..." she growled, 

 "They're all dead, Tommy," Johnny walked in, "Ms. Eleanor, ya look lovely" he tipped his hat. Finally, reading the room, he gave Tommy a nod and left. 

"He brings trouble..." Andre laughed, 

" I'm leaving..." Eleanor faced him.

"Put your gun down," Tommy suggested, 

"Where do your loyalties lie, Eleanor Vadoma Williams..." Louis said. Eleanor faced her father, tied between worlds her heart and her family, 

"That's right..." 

"I think I could go for some Irish whiskey. What about you, Tommy." 

"If you walk up those steps and out that door, don't bother coming back in this house."

Eleanor took to the flight of steps packing a few dresses and her furs, 

"Where are you going," Claudette asked,

"Claudette, promise me something."

"What's that." 

"Always fight for what you want." 

"Is that what you're doing." 

"Yes." Eleanor smiled. Kissing her forehead.

"You be good, stay out of trouble, and take it easy on that boy." she winked, 

"When'll you be back?" Virginia asked, 

"Give father two days, handle all my calls, and tell Jessy and Mrytle to alternate through my songs at The Pearl." walking downstairs, she looked at her father and Andre and left out the front door. Eleanor leaned against the glass window of Tommy's car, watching the house blur into the distance. Arrow house was a nice size home for Tommy, enough for a man, his horses, and maybe even a few children to run around in the courtyard, a daughter and a son, Eleanor thought as a faint smile appeared on her face, 

Arrow House

"Sorry if it isn't Connelly mansion," Tommy said. Eleanor took the hand of his driver as she stepped out of the car, "It's fine. Andre inherits that shithouse anyways," she mumbled, 

"Oh." was the only thing he could think to say if his mouth had opened, 

"That spineless bastard is your brother?" Tommy walked her through the house, "Sadly, he and I are related," her eyes caught the painting of Tommy and Grace on the wall. It was sickening, making her stomach turn as a reminder that she may never be the apple of his eye. 

"Mary, could you show Eleanor to her room."

"Of course, Mr. Shelby."

Later that night, Eleanor tossed and turned in her bed. She couldn't sleep, not with her mind racing with everything around her going on and the fact that she'd be in town for a few more weeks. Staring out the window. She heard the sounds of light rain pattering against the glass. 

"Rain means many things, rebirth, melancholy, rain is the first kiss of first love. Perhaps even a lost love, it's magic and wisdom, freedom, sometimes redemption." her brain replayed the tender moment. This wasn't about her family. It was about letting the very thing off her chest. She needed to tell him. No, he had to know, 

"Elle, are you alright."

"I'm in love with you, Thomas Shelby, and I shouldn't be, not when you've someone else waiting to say I do to them, and no amount of playing nice is making me wish it was me instead of her and on top, I'm leaving for Ameri-" Tommy kissed her, pressing his forehead against hers, 

"I know you are," he rubbed circles on her cheek," Lay with me tonight?"

Tommy sat in his library study, surrounded by his own cloud of smoke from his cigarette. He'd been doing some light reading and watching Eleanor at the stables feeding his horses. Polly stood watching him, "Are you sure you're marrying Grace for the right reasons?" her thin cigarette in hand, Tommy turned to face his aunt, whose eyes were burning through him, 

"I'm marrying her to protect her honor."

"Some honor." she snarled, quirking her eyebrow, 

"I know I'm old fashioned, and it's none of my business, but from the look in your eyes, I don't think you're ready to marry, at least not Grace." she stood next to Tommy, her gaze right on the woman, then back at him, there was a soft smile on his lips that she couldn't remember the last time she'd seen, 

"Grace loves me. That's all that matters."

"I see..." she nodded,

"Tommy, I hope you don't mind, but I stole some of your clothes. To-" Eleanor's voice trailed into his study. Polly watched how his face flushed to a delicate pink and how quickly he was to look at her. That was a man in love, 

"Oh, I'm sorry to interrupt."

"No, come in, this is me aunt Polly Gray," Polly quirked her head to the side, Surprised he'd introduce her, but she had to find out about Grace.

 "He's told me so much about you. I'm Eleanor Williams." she smiled, "Yes, the one at the Garrison party in 1922." Polly smiled back. She was beautiful and polite a semi-round face with the bone structure of someone she once knew, and from what Tommy had told her about Eleanor, she could hold her own, 

"Would you happen to know a Vadoma Dupont?"

"A little, but I wish I knew more about her." 

Polly nodded. "Is that me jumper?" Tommy asked as Eleanor looked down at it,

 " It is. I can take it off if you-"

"No, it's cute. Actually, Pol made that."

"You have quite the hand, Ms. Gray." Eleanor smiled, "Why if ever want to make more, I have my hand in textiles," she joked as Polly laughed, 

"I'll let you know, dear." 

"Oh, and Tommy?" 

"Yes, Elle?"

"I hope you have an amazing and happy life with Grace." Polly could see both their shattering hearts, just at that statement alone, "I hope America's all that you dream of." he nodded. Polly knew this all too well. Fate sent them as lovers at the wrong time, and with someone like Tommy, almost every moment was the wrong time, "I best be on my way, Tommy, I'll write you. Oh, and Ms. Gray. May we meet again." she kissed her cheek as Polly nodded,

 "May we meet again, dear," Polly watched the conflicted look in his eyes. He wanted to stop her, but he knew, just like him, it was business and then family afterward.  

                       1922  the 24th of May

My Dearest, Thomas Shelby

I write this to you with a heavy heart. America hasn't been the kindest, and neither has the food. Today several black Americans were hanged, and no one here trusts me enough to make a deal simply because of my colour or sex. However, I digress. I'm headed to New York City to meet with a woman named Florence. she says you two met in France? She also says she's able to help me with the Changretta problem. But enough about me, how are things with Grace and Charlie? Virginia tells me there's a Charity Ball, and you've invited my family. I wish I could be there. After all, we Williams do throw amazing parties, 

Nevertheless 

With love

Your friend,  

Eleanor Vadoma Williams.

Heels clicked down the floors of Shelby limited as Tommy read over the letter. Things had been going decently well for him, but he still wished he had Eleanor by his side. Sometimes when he talked to Claudette, he could see pieces of her, but it wasn't the same. It never would be without her around. "Mr. Shelby, Leslie Williams is here to see you," Lizzie announced as Tommy set the letter aside, "Bring her in, Lizzie." 

Standing before him was a darker-skinned woman wrapped in a beaded gold dress with a headdress to follow. "So you're the one my niece has been following about." she laughed, "It's an honor doing business with you, Mr. Shelby. May I say your name is dripping through the states?" 

"So I've heard. " tapping his fingers, itching to write Eleanor back, "I'll cut to the chase. The Americans want booze, and a little birdie named Andre tells me you got it," she smirked, 

"As co-owner of The Pearl, I figured we up the price, inflation if you will." 

"How much are we talking," 

"Enough that, in return, you'll bring my Black Daliah snow here. It's purer and more powerful than the weak shit they sell you here." she laughed, "It's the bee's knees in Chicago. If you will."  Arthur walked by as Tommy ushered him into his office, passing the sample of cocaine to him for him to try since he was the true master of it. "Whatdya think, boys?" leaning back in her chair,

 "It's fucking good. It works fast." Arthur smirked.

"Lorcan... where's Tommy?" Claudette asked, standing in the lobby. Lorcan only shrugged as Julian took a deep breath, 

"He's busy." 

"I need to talk to him about somethin -"

"You're not a Shelby. You can't go up there." 

"It's  important!" trying to walk up the steps, Lorcan blocked her path, "I wouldn't do that if I were you." Claudette threatened, her eyes dark with anger. She had gotten word about the Russians and their plans, but still, it didn't matter, 

"Fine ... then go, but don't say I didn't warn you."  Julian looked at his brother, nervous about what she'd see and whatever it was, who she might even tell.  

"So, have we got a deal, boys?" Leslie asked. Arthur looking at Tommy, a grin on her face full of lies,

 "I think we'll consid-" Tommy watched as the door flew open. "Mr. Shelby, Arthur, I need to tell ya somethin." Leslie turned around to face the new intruder in their meeting. In front of her was a beautiful brown skin girl with vibrant brown eyes and her beautiful curly hair, it was her "Claudette..." Claudette saw her, and it was as if she were the same as when she had died. Claudette was no more than four when it happened, but she remembered looming over her mother's body. Screaming for her to wake up, thinking that she never did, Claudette had thought for years her mother died, 

but to learn she'd been alive for this long was heart-shattering, 

"My baby girl, alive and well..." trying to touch her, Claudette backed away as Arthur was on guard,  

"YOU LEFT ME!" tears streaming down her face,

"Claudette, come here," Leslie cooed,

 "I came back for you. I did." Leslie smiled, " We could start a new one in New York City. You could be my little pusher girl, " Tommy glanced at Leslie and then at Claudette. She was filled with  white lies like their father, "Leave..." Claudette pointed,

"But sugar plum."

"FUCKING LEAVE!" Leslie looked over at Arthur and then at Tommy.

"You 'eard the little lady leave," he growled, 

"You Shelby's will reap everything you sew." she spat, walking out of the office, "You'll be wise to consider my deal."  Claudette's body tensed as she was transported back into the memory of that God-awful night in Birmingham. It was as if her world was ending again. A piece of her was dying,  called innocence. All this time, the world had been rose-colored and beautiful, and now  dark, dull, and harsh, 

"Take me home." she rasped out,

    1924 31st of May

Dear, Elle

To answer your question concerning your last letter, I bring horrible news Grace is dead. Changretta sent an assassin to kill her. I feel it should have been me who died instead. I know what you're going to say, and it may just be what I need to hear to carry on. They've named an orphanage after her. Of course, everyone around me thinks I should take a break, but even you know it's not in my nature to,

 But enough about that, Claudette has been thinking of stepping away from being a Williams. Arthur's teaching her the ropes of being a Peaky. She's been staying between here and Small Heath. She's been a bit of help with calming Charlie down. Who like me, can't sleep much in this house. In return, she's asked me about teaching her horseback. She refuses to learn side saddle, rebellious like someone else I know. And Florence, she's a good pick, a woman I respect dearly. Who may ask, and I quote, "What the fuck were you doing in the south."  

Your friend, 

Thomas Shelby 

Walking away from the camp of Romani wagons, Tommy held the sapphire necklace Grace wore on the night she was killed. He just needed to know that it was cursed and her death wasn't fully his fault. Walking towards one of the wagons, he saw a woman who almost looked like "Eleanor..." 

The woman looked up at Tommy. He must have been Birdie's grandboy because he looked  like her, eyes and all, "No Eleanor here, just a Vadoma Dupont." her accent was strong French, 

"Are you kin to an Eleanor Vadoma Williams?"

"My niece, you know her, yes?" Tommy nodded as she laughed, "I don't see her much, but I sense her with you," she added,

 "I sense many things from you,Tommy." Vadoma then said, 

"What would that be ..."

"A snake may shed it's skin, but it's easier to stare it in the eyes." she winked, as Tommy looked at her. a bit confused, "It'll all make sense in due time."

[thetcsteofink]

ALECTO STERLING ( SHE/HER ) is a CIS FEMALE, TWENTY-FIVE year old LIBRARY ASSISTANT who has been living in Moorbrooke for ONE YEAR. They were born on APRIL 12TH and right now, they are currently residing in OAKLEY COURT. It has been said that they look suspiciously like FLORENCE PUGH and if they had to choose a song to describe themselves, they would choose TODAY by THE SMASHING PUMPKINS. 

Alecto Sterling was born in Moorbrooke, ME to mother Carlotta Beaumont and Lucas (Luke) Sterling. Carlotta, part of the rich elitists of Moorbrooke was herself born and raised in the Upper East Side of New York City. She was the kind of person who loved the glitz and glamor of expensive material and adored not having to lift a finger. She lived the ultimate privilege. Though upon going to Maine for private school, she ended up rebelling a bit and had a secret relationship some whatever poor boy named Luke from a small whatever town called Moorbrooke.

Upon hearing of this relationship which ended up being not very secret, Carlotta’s parents forbade her to see Luke ever again. Unfortunately, she had given birth to a baby girl and simply hadn’t told her parents. Although after some time, Luke’s low income and way of life was so far from what she had experienced all her life that she feared the worst for herself and her then five year old daughter. Her parents were ever glad to hear of her doubts, considering she was always taught to marry rich for security and comfort. From then on, it was forever ingrained in her head from that point on was that Luke was beneath her. "He’s the type of person who works at McDonald’s! Cleans the floors there, even! Leave him once and for all!” Said her father. So, she did, and she took Alecto with her to the glamorous world of Beverly Hills, California.

Alecto, since she was five, had been living in Beverly Hills—the ever so classic and wondrous world of 90210. With her mother’s stability due to her grandparents’ finances and eventual mother’s corporate gaslight girlboss gatekeep job, Alecto was living the high life in a mansion that was far too big for a single mother and her daughter. Madonna’s Material Girl might as well have been about her and she had the attitude (and mommy’s money) to prove it.

Playing the ditzy, unintelligent, and even vapid queen bee was a necessity in Beverly Hills just so she wouldn’t be eaten alive by the others who kept trying to stay afloat in that toxic wasteland—and Alecto was phenomenal at it. That’s also what it was—a play. When in reality, she was very intelligent and well-read. Her mother did put her in ballet and dancing classes when she was young, but lucky for her, Alecto fell in love with dancing and all kinds of music from the 60s and after. It was therefore no surprise that in high school, she was absolutely captain of the cheer squad and made every single routine a work of art. And when TikTok appeared, she got to shine through dancing in an entirely new way.

University was a cinch for this golden gal. Partying and making friends but somehow keeping a 3.2 GPA average. Math was never a strong suit, but literature was her true love alongside dancing. After a while she even told her mother she wanted to become a librarian, which made her mother laugh, seeing as since Alecto was going to eventually marry rich, she wouldn’t really need to work. Going to school was even ridiculous but thank goodness trust fund money could pay for that. Bitch.

Reading did start to open the world for Alecto a bit more, but she continued to thrive amongst her privileged life and took advantage of every bit of it. In secret, she contacted her father through messaging since her mother wouldn’t like that they talked, but it was soon found out. Luke had suggested she come see him sometime since he never got to properly meet her. Her mother forbade it, and Alecto was livid. So out of pettiness, she applied to grad school in Maine where her dad lived and worked and that was that. 

Her mother eventually just accepted that Alecto was going to the bumfuck of nowhereville and argued with Luke that Alecto absolutely could not live alone despite being twenty-four. She was also correct. Alecto had never learned to cook for herself, clean for herself, or paid for anything that was essential. She had never worked a day in her life either. “Damn it, Luke, if you get her an apartment there, she’ll die in a week on the stench of the place alone! I know you don’t make good money. You know she’s leaving a mansion, right? With maids and cooks? So you better let her stay there at your place or I swear to god.” So, yes, Alecto went to stay at her dad’s.

It was a culture shock to say the least. The town of Moorbrooke was infinitely smaller and definitely not as glamorous. Or warm, for that matter. The water at the beach was freezing even in the heat of July. Snow was a pain. And people here were so... normal. Luke got her to help at the diner every now and then while she looked for a job, which was a disaster for a month and a half since she never, ever worked a day in her life. Her, waiting tables? It sounded heinous. And yet, she did. And, the cooks at the diner always bet on how long she’d last, but Luke also taught her, steadily, how to use the kitchen. Sometimes at the diner she would help with the cooking. 

Eventually Alecto found a job at the local library, just as a library assistant so she could do clerical duties and stock and restock books. To her surprise, she was beyond happy at the library. It helped, since she frequently read, and was looking to pursue a graduate degree in Library Sciences. Although, that year, she learned that life is actually not a walk in the park. She was run over by the Reality Check Train. Waiting tables was not easy at all. Remembering orders, balancing plates, trying not to spill drinks, dealing with sometimes rude customers! And at the library, there was sometimes rude patrons and patrons searching porn on the computer and just fucking up books that Alecto would seethe. But that first paycheck, wow. To earn something that she worked for was an accomplishment.

As of now, it’s been a year since she’s been in Moorbrooke. Alecto has certainly been humbled. Though her materialistic and spoiled personality may shine through yet, she has certainly changed for the better and finds she rather enjoys living in quiet Moorbrooke. She still lives with her dad and on occasion helps with the diner if she has the free time, but her heart remains in dancing and books. Her mother, unfortunately, continues to persist she find someone of blue blood to marry, and it continues to exhaust her. Just as the song by The Smashing Pumpkins says, Alecto is “bored of the chore of saving face” as it pertains to who she was raised to be and who she’s finding out she can be.

__

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

Look I’ll write more a bit later and message the muns but I do know I would love her dad as a connection. Just that family goodness :< She really does love her dad and hasn’t been able to physically have him in her life for nineteen years, and he’s so different from her mom that it’s important she has that person with her to continue to grow into a better person.

I mean I’m all down for any other connections. She’s been here a year! And going to grad school and works at the library. She’s also bi! 

[unravellingsilencehq]

“Oh, Merlin, tell me, does THE CHARIOT get what he deserves?” He is NEUTRAL & OPEN to finding out.“

— he walks through the world as ;

name → harrison bagnold pronouns → he/him identification → cis-male year of birth → september 1956 - september 1955 face claim → daryl mccormack blood status → pure-blood sexual orientation → sexually fluid occupation → ambassador to the united states for the international confederation of wizards in the department of international magical co-operation at the ministry of magic

future information → n/a

— he is best described as ;

CONSIDERED ELEGANCE. He is a GLEAMING PAIR OF CUFFLINKS, pressed into a BRILLIANT CRISP SHIRT, and a WINNING SMILE that would charm even the most determined folk to part ways with a VOTE. He is the SMOOTH and CALMING voice at the table, the FIRM HANDSHAKE guiding you down his path and handing you a pen to sign.

— his story starts with ;

tw: death

The only surviving child of Minister for Magic MILLICENT BAGNOLD [mother], Harrison is the most beloved kind of celebrity. Good looking, intelligent and a heartbreaking backstory to boot. Millicent explained to him young, that the key to high society was networking. With his mother high in the political world, Harrison saw himself as the equal to children like LUCIUS MALFOY [close friend] despite missing out on a spot in The Sacred Twenty-Eight. It was only when he began attending events as he got older he could see the difference. The Bagnolds weren’t as rich, not as much land or staff - and that was where the lying began. Harrison would lie about his family’s wealth for years to come. “Fake it till you make it.” He told himself in the mirror and his parents tried hard to buy him all that was necessary to keep up with the charade. Harrison wondered if his demanding behaviour in childhood led to his parents preferring his younger brother’s company to his, though as an adult he wouldn’t exactly blame them for it. BOOKER BAGNOLD [sibling] was nothing like Harrison, content to play in the dirt and study insects rather than help his parents work a room. 

The way his mother and father split their time and attention between the boys had always been a source of pain to Harrison. Harrison and his brother were the heir and the spare and everyone in their family knew it too. Arriving at Hogwarts, Harrison was sorted into Gryffindor and quickly established himself as the true lion amongst the pussycats, buddying up quickly with fellow alpha KALEB JOHNSON [best friend] who quickly became his best friend. Harrison and Kaleb ruled Gryffindor, but on the Quidditch pitch they had some competition. ELEZAR SMITH [best friend], MICHAEL THOMAS [best friend] and CRISTIANO PARKINSON [best friend], made up the strongest Ravenclaw team for quite some time. What began as a fact finding mission for the boys, ending up in them meeting their best friends and from there on the group were inseparable. They surrounded themselves with just as popular witches, revolving in the same circle as Cristiano’s twin sister ANDRESSA PARKINSON [close friend], ISOLDE CROUCH [close friend], LUCILLE JONES [best friend], her twin sister FLORENCE JONES [close friend] and BERTHA JORKINS [close friend]. 

Undoubtedly the most popular boys in their year, they were untouchable and enjoyed watching the witches in their year battle for power and fight over them as they did. For Harrison there was only one woman for him. The only person who thought of herself as highly as he did, Lucille was his love, but a chip on his shoulder and a wandering eye would be their downfall. Harrison began seeing CORNELIUS CRABBE [former romantic liaison] in their final year. Like Harrison, Lucille longed to be a member of The Twenty-Eight, but even the beauty of a veela and her impressive political connections couldn’t buy her that. He had no idea how to even explain his on-and-off feelings to her because he didn’t even understand them himself. He found himself approaching a close friend, ANASTASIA SIMINOVA [close friend] about it first. She had been there for him a lot, after her best friend GENEVIEVE AVERY [close friend] began dating Cristiano and the two found common ground in their love for secrecy. His friends all found out when they caught him kissing a member of the Hufflepuff team at a party. Him and Lucille broke up not long afterwards.

Harrison had proven he was not just good at making friends, but adversaries as well. EDRICK SELWYN [rival] was an overly competitive Slytherin he enjoyed challenging, though he would later find such connections would follow him into adulthood. Harrison had been given the position as an Ambassador for the International Confederation of Wizards at quite a young age, many thought because of his mother. Whilst it allowed him to travel, he reported directly to Edrick’s father HARRELSON SELWYN [boss], who had an intense dislike of him, ensuring he had to always be on his game. When his mother became Minister for Magic, a sense of relief washed over Harrison. He had been lying for so long it felt good to be true at last. ROSALINE DAVIS [partner], came along at the right time. A pure-blood from a good name, although a purist one, she had designs on being the future wife of a Minister and escaping her family. His life seemed perfect, except for one thing. His brother. Whilst Harrison worked hard to maintain their image, Booker seemed intent on destroying it, going as far as to critique their own mother’s policy on creatures and accusing the Ministry of foul play.

Halloween night in 1982, a heated argument began between the brothers over a petition that Booker had started to rally for creature rights. It got heated and Harrison disarmed Booker before disappearing into the party with Rosaline. An hour later he was floating in the fountain. It was an unlikely friend who helped him with his grief. LILIAS ROSMERTA [close friend] an old Gryffindor drinking buddy she wanted to carry on Booker’s legacy by furthering his petition. The pieces didn’t add up that Booker was killed by a wolf, he believed someone on the other side of the bench was to blame. Harrison attended The Yule Ball with the intention of networking with suspicious characters and keep an eye out for who might have wanted his brother dead. One moment Harrison was speaking to Lucius and BILLIUS WEASLEY [close friend] then he was watching himself behave in a way much unlike himself. Under the imperius curse he listened helplessly as a voice whispered over and over in his mind that no thoughts of his own could form. Harrison followed JONATHAN REEVES [person of interest] and his girlfriend ROSALIE FLINT [person of interest] into a private room. 

He watched as his own hand pointed his wand at Jonathan and cast a killing curse at the man. Rosalie valiantly dived in front of the curse, killing her instantly. Internally Harrison screamed, horrified at the scene he had unwillingly created, the everything went black. When he awoke it was in a strange place with Lilias and her sisters by his side, all staring at him with their wide blue eyes. Harrison had been asleep for quite some time, presumed missing with no memory past the moment he drank his champagne with Lucius and Billius. Harrison has been trying hard to remember what has transpired but no matter how much he works with Lilias his brain has fogged over. Determined to get to the bottom of Booker’s death, Harrison has vowed to try and remember the evening and get back to his life as though nothing has happened in order to slip under the radar and find Booker’s killer. Harrison is convinced his brother’s death is part of a plot to overthrow his mother, though if he just pulled a little bit harder on such a thread he would find a whole world unravel he didn’t even know existed. 

— he is a LEVEL 6 WIZARD & readied for war ;

[muffindaddystyles]

Y/N is jealous of Harry’s new date, and the realisation took years to rain down upon her and Harry.

warning: sad jealous angst, mentions of fever, screaming and crying, heartbreak inspired from Taylor Swifts “All too Well”.

..

The dewy glow of Luna melts into her skin, twirls into tight notches upon her heart ever radiant than the beat of the small organ stitched into her chest as she watches the shadow of two figures dancing in the big window of Harry’s house. She reminisces the times they’d do the karaoke nights in their silly loose pyjamas and jam around his house like wild geese in the middle of night; he’d stuff his nose with popcorns to entertain her and had the goofiest smile etched across that clean beautiful face of his upon dragging out a laughter from his bestfriend.

His bestfriend. His ride or die. His cuddle stuffie. His partner in crime. His proud person. His soulmate. His Y/N.

Harry’s a firm believer of, “Your soulmate could be anyone. It doesn’t have to be your significant other always. For me it’s you Soapie.” He told Y/N when they were 19. On the rooftop of his mother’s house when they smoked a joint for the first time in their life. The clank of hollow bright red bricks was all it was heard as Y/N was about to trip from the slope of roof from the surprise itself and had their asses busted. Anne grounded both of them in one house which meant more of a disaster than anything else.

Her chapped lips whisks up into a smile as her glazed upon eyes reflects with the ghost of memories walking near her with every second of music getting louder and their giggles getting merrier.

It was that call. On her yellow coloured telephone. Wednesday, 12 A.M. End of the June. The violet swirl of clouds danced chaotically in the sky.

“Y/N what’s your favourite place to go out on a date to?” He asked, “What? Why? Our usual, why?” Her confused sleepy voice alerting her brain about the fishy-ness of the moment.

“Do you prefer me in suits or comfy clothes?” That made her stomach all squirmy. Tickles of an emotion unknown to her made her all giggly and shy. a school girl getting asked out on a date to her favourite Arcadian by her hot-shot crush.

“Comfy…, now tell me what’s it?” She all but smiles bashfully taking quaint deep breathers to prep herself for what’s about to come next.

She could hear his grin from the other side of phone, her supple fingertips scratching the yellow plastic cord of the phone in anticipation and her bottom rosy lip bounces from matching his grin.

“It’s a date–“ He sputters out and she cuts him off excitedly in true Y/N fashion,, “You’re asking me out on a date!?“

Those were never dates. They used to hangout for hours and hours more like practically living with each other and never without each-other but not dates.

You can call it whatever friends want to call it.

“Oi. I took you out on enough dates. This’s with the girl Florence introduced me to––“ She cut him off again, “…but you never told those were dates…” Sad pout pillowing atop her mouth, her brows meeting in a bewildered frown and her grip around the nip of her sleeping maxi looses from where she was holding it atop her thigh out of sheer excitement.

“Is she prettier than me?” Her eyelashes wets. How pathetic of her. She thought. From where these feelings of eerie jealousy and envy’s coming from? He has dated many girls before, but why now? Was it because he asked for her opinion that she figured it out he’s serious about whoever this person is? Or was that she’s entirely so in love and now raw to her feelings than before?

She can’t explain it at all.

Harsh slam of plastic against plastic echoed into her room as she put the end to the call and the concerned, “Y/N are you okay muffin?” rusted between the poor connection was all she heard in his caramelised soothing voice.

Today after two days of that heartbreaking call. Y/N walked to his house to show him that him going out with other people doesn’t effect her, she’ll be the same Y/N for him she was previously .

If it couldn’t be more painstaking before it’s now as she watched them in his house. Her hands shakes holding a container of glazed warm cinnamon rolls Harry loves to eat and her feeble cry weaves away along with the cold gust of wind as the first droplet of summer rain falls and dribbles down her neck making her numb to any kind of feeling rather than getting out squeasy airy laughs out of her.

The rain pours down at her infuriatingly, humming down the loud shaking sobs that suffocated her chest making her feel like a small cricket being drowned into a muddy splash while it’s in search of its home. The container of cinnamon rolls falls at Harry’s doorstep. the music halts to nothingness as the thunder roared against his windows and Y/N squeaks running back in the heavy rain from where she came from.

..

When Harry opens the door. His chest echoes with a sharp sound of a m drag, that of a knife stabbed in between two ripples of his rib-bones. A fallen container never seemed more sad than a fallen star and he looks over his shoulder to see the girl sleeping on his couch, a red scarf that of Y/N wrapped around her neck and a rush of guilt oozes in every of his pore. The urge to ask for it back politely surges inside him and the realisation settles deep inside the pit of his stomach.

He needs to see, Y/N.

..

On the other hand Y/N’s sneezing like a weasel train. High on fever as she caught cold. Trying to make a soup with a broken heart. The heart shaped note of a how to make a berry cake scribbled in Harry’s writing makes her paralysed in her spot, eyes wide awake with pools of sadness in them and the round plate in her hold falls and shatters against the floor as if the moon got split into two halves revealing a sky that of blankness.

His sweet disposition. His sweet care. His heart always making a home for her. All gone leaving Y/N alone.

She never thought she’d be here at 3 A.M curled into a ball feeling small on her kitchens yellow floor and the recall of memories eating her whole.

Clothes still soggy. Hair sticking to her neck. Body stinging against the coolness of tiles as she stares the the slight of refrigerator finding the blue light horrible and vexing to her core.

She screams. Shrieks practically like a sour bratty kid with her aching throat only to gasp into quit when her flats door clicks shut, accompanied by a worried booming voice of him.

“Y/N!? Soapie??” He rushes to her. On his knees in just seconds infront of her and his intestines pulls into itself when he sees the paleness on her, the dead glimpse of her eyes.

“Y/N – are you okay? I’m askin’ you–“ He bends over her to meet her stoic gaze, slithering his strong arm under her neck to sit her up and curses out loud in vexation when he finds her burning, “Fo’ fucks sake are you fuckin’ mad?” He scolds her, gasping in surprise when his knuckles brushes up her cold soggy dress.

His jaw falls apart. Arms in air. When her clothes made a smacking noise against his fully dried ones. Her elbows nurses around his throat as she pulls him down into herself, her cries fusing behind the sweet spot of his ear.

“Hey baby. Shhhh it’s okay yeah…?” He croons. Petting her wet hair lovingly and soothingly. Scooting her caringly into his lap and hugs her back, ever so tightly and warmly. No space for even a string to let through.

“I love you Harry. I’m so sorry. I love you.” In that moment every ounce of air sucks out of his lungs and all that’s left is the jelly softness of affection for his Soapie.

“S’okie if you don’t love me back– but b–…” She hiccups gasping a saccharine yelp as a red scarf muffles around her shoulders and she’s pulled close to his face where he could admire her as much as he wants.

“Couldn't you have said it before you silly?” He giggles. His thumb caressing her bottom swelled up lip and he doesn’t leave her to answer, levelling her head high that of his Queen and flowers his mouth against hers in an endearing kiss full of love.

“Oh me Soapie. You dunno how much I prayed to ‘ave you as my soulmate forever.” He confesses into the kiss and that just makes Y/N cry more.

There’s still so much to unfold. So many feelings, hurt, love and buried emotions of years but one thing’s sure that;

The pretty spotted Luna is evident of their loving confessions.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Walsh Sibling AU-- Older Brother Version

Like, a man a few years older than Lena approaches her as she leaves the office of her new foundation. He apologizes for catching her at a bad time, but he's been trying to schedule an appointment but her assistant hadn't been willing to book him in.

Canonically, Lena has been willing to receive visitors who arrive without appointments (see: Kara Danvers, Ben Lockwood), so of course she takes some time to pause and hear him out.

He asks if there's somewhere more private where they could talk (as they are currently in the middle of the sidewalk), but Lena explains that she a) is busy, and b) has a policy against going anywhere with strange men whose business she does not know. Which, he acknowledges, is fair enough.

He hems and haws a little bit, trying to explain that it's something difficult to explain, and he's not sure how to go about telling her.

"I'm sorry," Lena interjects when he gets nowhere after several moments, "but I really am on my way to an appointment--"

"I'm your brother," the man blurts.

Lena freezes. Whatever she expected to say, it's not that. A dozen thoughts flash behind her eyes, trying to figure out his angle, but almost immediately simply puts on a grin.

"Seeing as you have a full head of hair and aren't currently in the Phantom Zone, I'll have to disagree," she tells him with a chuckle. She makes to leave. "Nice try, though."

Before she can move more than than two feet, the man calls out and roots her to the spot.

"Your birth name is Lena Walsh." Lena slowly turns towards him. "You once had a bear named Miss Pizzly. It was brown, and soft, and you carried it everywhere."

No one could possibly know that. Miss Pizzly had barely survived a week at the Luthor manor before she mysteriously disappeared.

"Elizabeth Walsh drowned in a lake in 1996. She was from Fortune Bay, but came to the States after the death of her friend's husband."

The man takes a step towards her, as Lena watches him with a wary eye.

"They say she was a witch," he says, his voice hushed so only Lena can hear.

For several long moments, Lena regards him, weighing her options and the likelihood of him being who he says he is. She comes to no conclusion, reticent to trust the idea of a brother who's never been mentioned.

"What do you want?" she says finally.

The man settles back on his heels, seemingly satisfied that she hasn't rejected his claim outright. He puts his hands in his coat pockets. Lena has to admit he doesn't look threatening.

"I'd hoped we'd have a chance to get to know each other." His mouth lifts into a hopeful smile. "I'm Eoin."

Lena's eyes narrow. "And if what you say is true, Owen, why now?"

The man offers a shrug. "I only learned who you'd become when I spent a few days back in Fortune Bay. Florence told me everything about your visit."

Florence's mention is enough to give at least some of his story credence. It's enough for her to open herself up to believing, just maybe, he might be telling the truth.

"Let's take this somewhere more private."

Somewhere more private is back inside her office-- she'd prefer the familiarity of her own apartment, away from the ears of any prying assistants, but she knows better than to show a stranger where she lives. So the office has to do, and she returns her coat and purse to their rack.

There, in the place of her professional power, she prompts him to elaborate. Eoin gladly gets started, sharing that he's four years older than Lena, that they'd had different fathers and than when their mother died he'd gone to live with his Da (who was also from Fortune Bay, but had left in search of better work a few years before Elizabeth did), but had visited Florence in the summers.

Florence had tried teaching him magic, but he never had the spark. Too much of his dad in him, Florence always said. But he learned the way of nature and the various plants that could be made into tinctures and the like, before he finally graduated secondary and found work in Canada.

Now he's a welder, he tells her. It's honest work, but pays enough to get by. He's not here for money, nor a hand to lift him above his current means. He only wants to regain the sister he thought lost to him-- might as well have died with their mother, for all he knew what happened to her.

"I'm glad you found a good family," he says.

Lena fights the urge to scowl. "You mean a rich family." She pegs him with a hard stare. "Their wealth doesn't mean they were kind, or warm. It doesn't mean I was loved."

Eoin winces a little. "I'm sorry," he offers. "I'd hoped you'd have that, at least. It's what Ma would have wanted."

While he's been sharing his story, Lena had subtly texted Kara a message-- to come to her office with a cheek swab kit. Kara's knock then saves Lena from having to respond, instead turning to greet Kara (who doesn't wait for an invitation to enter).

Kara Danvers regards Eoin suspiciously. "I hope I'm not interrupting," she says carefully.

"You're right on time," Lena assures her.

Not taking her eyes off the unfamiliar man in Lena's office, Kara extends the small cardboard box towards Lena.

"I brought the thing you asked for," she says. "Everything okay?"

Lena neither confirms nor refutes. "Kara, this is Eoin. Eoin..." She waits for Eoin to provide his last name.

"Oh!" Eoin straightens, his cheeks splitting into a charming smile that reminds Kara of... someone else's. He reaches out to offer a handshake. "Dunne. Eoin Dunne."

Kara takes his hand and gives it a slow up and down. "Kara Danvers."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

When Kara reclaims her hand and shoots Lena an inquisitive glance, Lena continues. "Mr. Dunne here claims he's the son of Elizabeth Walsh."

A familiar crinkle appears between Kara's eyebrows. Kara's heard all about Lena's mother by now-- the good, bad, and ugly. The pieces slowly fall into place.

"Which would mean..."

"We're related," Lena confirms. "Yes. That is, if Mr. Dunne doesn't object to a DNA test." She brandishes the swab kit.

Eoin's demeanor doesn't sour in the slightest. "'Course not," he replies. "I'm happy to provide any proof you'd like... birth certificate or such."

"We'll take things one step at a time--"

"Oh! I almost forgot." Eoin rifles through his pockets, before finally withdrawing a photograph from his inside jacket pocket. He hands it to Lena. "Thought you might want to see this."

Lena takes the photo in her fingers, bringing it closer. Kara leans in, curious to see as well. Lena's heart leaps to her throat at the image captured by the camera.

It's a little girl sitting in front of a slightly off-center homemade birthday cake, with a party hat on her head. A taller, lanky boy stands beside the birthday girl, bedecked in a matching hat. The boy is watching the girl as she blows out her candles; even through the lens and the years, the affection in his gaze is unmistakeable.

Lena can't say she recognizes the boy, or even see any familiarities in the man now in her office, but she recognizes the little girl.

It's herself.

"Ma got that picture on your fourth birthday," Eoin explains. "When the photo came back she said it was her favorite yet. Put it on the fridge, even."

Even without the proof of the DNA test, belief sparks in her chest.

"Why wouldn't I remember you?"

Eoin shrugs. "You were young. Can't say I remember much from when I was four. Or maybe it was easier not to."

Their eyes meet for a long moment, before Eoin shifts readily.

"You wanna take your swab then?"

He opens his jaw for easier access. Kara takes the kit from Lena's frozen fingers and swabs his cheek, carefully depositing the swab in its plastic cap.

"Thank you," Kara says softly.

Eoin nods. "Of course." He looks to Lena. "I really don't want anything from you, Lena. I just hoped we could reconnect. I've always wondered about you."

He smiles, then, his features warm.

"I've missed you."

Lena doesn't-- can't-- respond. After a long moment, Eoin straightens. "I'll take my leave. I've left my number with your assistant-- if decide you want to reach out. I'll be in town for about a week."

He tips his ballcap. "Ladies."

And then he's gone, letting himself out of Lena's office without any further ado. Silence stretches for a long moment, as Kara allows Lena some time to process what's just happened.

"You okay?" she asks finally, cupping Lena's elbow softly.

Lena doesn't have an answer to give her. Instead, she simply takes the swab kit from Kara's hand.

"Let's get this to the lab."

[theonewiththefanfics]

Don’t Worry, Darling (one-shot)

Synopsis: Falling in love with a co-star is something that can hurt, especially when it seems like they’re talking to other people behind your back, but falling in love with a co-star and being unable to help when they’re sick, is even worse.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, SMUT 

Warnings: COVID-19, sickness, swearing, SMUT (fingering, m going down on f, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it))

Word count: 11 968 (yoikes)

Please note I’m not trying to make light of the pandemic or the virus and those impacted by it. It’s a very real and serious thing, which is why I decided to use it. Please stay safe and healthy, follow the local health guidelines and if you have the ability please get vaccinated. Let’s keep ourselves and one another safe, frens :)

When Y/N got the call she’d gotten the role of Jack’s ex-wife who’d disappeared in mysterious circumstances, she was over the moon. As a Marvel alumnus, she was excited to work with Florence, as she’d loved Midsommar, and knowing she was going to be one of the new faces carrying the next Marvel chapter, she wanted to get to know her. Having played Tony Stark’s adopted daughter since the age of six, she was very protective of the franchise but was excited to see where it’d go.

      Then Shia LaBeouf, Chris Pine as well with Dakota Johnson’s announcements coming soon after, Y/N got even more stoked, and with Olivia Wilde leading all of them, she was sure the movie would be a hit.

      Shia and Dakota had to drop out due to scheduling issues (which Y/N couldn’t lie – she was kind of happy Shia couldn’t do it), and that's where Harry Styles took over the role of Jack with Kiki Layne Dakota’s Margaret.

      Now, when Y/N had seen Harry’s picture next to the re-cast e-mail the whole production had been sent out, she might’ve had a little (a massive, like a ginormous) freak-out. As much as she’d grown up listening to classic rock, due to Robert Downey Jr. and Iron Man, she’d been an avid One Direction fan. Like to the point, it might even seem a bit creepy. Y/N had sort of grown out of the obsessive phase of it all, but most definitely admired the solo albums they’d been able to produce, and when Dunkirk came out, she was excited to see Harry join the acting world, with the amount of talent he had.

      The first table read was sort of awkward, and definitely the weirdest one, given how a pandemic had started, and everyone was at their respective homes using Zoom. 

      Y/N and Florence had been the first to join the conversation about half an hour before the official beginning, and by the time everyone else did, they were crying from laughter and had to excuse themselves from their computers to collect whatever remaining composure they had. 

      “You two alright?” Oliva Wilde had raised her eyebrow, as the women re-joined, still chuckling. “Will we have to use body doubles for the scenes you two are in?”

      “No!

      “Nohooo!” both of them yelled through laughter. “We’ll be as professional as professionals are. Which is very professional.”

      Then Y/N made the mistake of glancing at Florence’s square, and the two busted out laughing again, spewing apologies in between, but no one seemed to really mind. In fact, it looked like they appreciated how casual and open everyone was being, hoping the set wouldn’t be stiff either when they moved onto filming.

      And for the two women, it wasn’t really. Actually, they grew closer than ever. The amount of time Florence spent in Y/N’s trailer was to the point that the two started to talk about just moving in together. After scouring the nearby apartments for rent, they settled on a three-bedroom apartment, as two-bedroom ones were non-existent. 

      When Harry grew closer to them as well, given how he spent quite some time with both women, they suggested he move in as well.

      “You know, what? I changed my mind. You’re taking away our closet, and I don't like that,” Y/N pouted, watching as Florence lifted a pile of her clothes and moved it to her room. “That’s not very ‘treat people with kindness’ of you.”

      All he did was flick a finger at her forehead, which Y/N swatted away with a smile. When he’d double-checked about moving in with them (which, mind you was the seventh time, and half his stuff was already there), the two women were ecstatic. They got along amazingly on set and basically having a sleepover with friends every night suited all of them quite well. 

      At that moment, Y/N was sitting on the edge of her bed, knitting while Harry painted all of their toes and Florence put on facemasks.

      “Wine!” Y/N suddenly exclaimed, almost knocking over the light blue nail polish bottle as she jumped up, throwing her needles back on the bed. “We need wine!”

      “Do not ruin my masterpiece!” Harry hollered after her, as she waddled away on her heels, toes separated by foam and hight up in the air. She even had to manoeuvre around the carpet to avoid any hairs and fibres that could get stuck inside the still wet lacquer.

      It took her a second to find a bottle all three of them could enjoy, given their tastes were so different – Y/N preferred sweet and red, and didn’t care if it was a three-dollar bottle from Target, Harry had a bit more of an expensive pallet, giving preference to something with a more of a lingering aftertaste and in the higher ranges of price point, while Florence liked rosé and white wines.  

      Taking two glasses in one hand and the bottle with a third glass between her fingers, she shuffled back to her room when she heard the two muttering something in low voices before Harry whispered harshly, “I’m not telling Y/N that!” 

      “Won’t me what?” Y/N’s question made him and Florence spring back where they’d been engaged in a heated conversation when she re-entered the room, putting the wine bottle and glasses on the nightstand.

      Florence waved her off, giving her a smile, she didn’t believe in. “Nothing. Now come on, Harry will do your fingernails now, and I think it’s about time the mask came off.”

      And that’s when Y/N’s heart dropped. She’d been in the industry long enough to know how fake people could be, how they could put on smiles so inviting and friendly while hiding their true intentions behind them. She just didn’t think two people she’d found so genuine and sweet would be like that.

      And the thing was – it wasn’t the first time she’d heard the two whispering like that and hushing up when they saw her enter the room or even come somewhere near to them. 

In the beginning, Y/N had chalked it up to the two being closer, given they had to spend more time together, so they knew one another better, but this time sort of solidified it wasn’t the fact the two were closer, it had to deal with Y/N specifically.

      So, she started to distance herself. She’d had enough users in her life to last her for the rest of it. Y/N excused herself from the movie nights they had on most Fridays, she no longer joined in on the cooking sessions and mostly spent time in her room, or on work calls.

      When she re-entered the flat, four weeks after their falling out, they watched as she nodded to them, and went inside her room, closing the door, much like she’d been doing for the past thirty days. 

      “Do you think she knows?” Harry asked, brows furrowed and bottom lip between his teeth as he hoped the doors would open, yet, obviously, they didn’t. 

      “Well, I haven’t told her, and unless you did, then I doubt it…”

      Harry stood up, running a hand through his hair. “I’m gonna talk to her.”

      “You think it’s a good idea?”

      “No, but if she’s upset maybe she needs to talk to someone.”

      “Or maybe she wants to be alone.”

      Harry bit his lip thinking over Florence’s words. When he was upset about something, he himself did like to kind of retreat and become a little bit of a recluse, to sort out his emotions before anyone else tried to jump in and help with it, but the thing was – Y/N’s distancing started the night when she’d walked in on the two of them arguing, and it’d been about the girl in question herself, so he shook his head. “I’ll just ask if she’s alright.”

      He took a deep breath and went to enter the room he hadn’t seen in almost a month. “Hey.” Harry poked his head through Y/N’s door, making her swirl around in her chair. She looked adorable to him. She’d changed into a big fluffy nightgown, the hood up, a headband pushing hair away from her face with a green facemask covering her skin. The domestic life flashed through Harry’s head like a freight train, as it was something he craved, but pushed it away. There was no daydreaming before figuring out what was in front of him in reality. “You okay?”

      “ 'M fine.” She shot him a quick smile. “Why? Did Olivia send something new for the script?”

      “Um, no, ‘s just you’ve been, I dunno – detached a bit?”

      “Look, Harry… I may be younger than you, but I’ve been in this industry longer than you or Florence.” Y/N stood and shrugged before crossing her arms. “And the thing is – I don’t care for shit like that. So, you two can gossip and whisper and talk whatever you want about me behind my back. Everyone else is doing that so, you’re not that special. But’ I’d prefer if you did it somewhere else besides my room, my space, and I’ll say this once, but very clearly – we’re not friends. I don’t need friends like you. We’ll be civil and we’ll do our jobs, but…” Harry’s heart broke at her eyes, seeing the pain in them as she nodded and made sure he understood where she stood. “We’re not friends.”

      She didn’t leave any room for argument. When Harry left, Y/N didn’t even look over her shoulder to see him exit.

      The next couple of mornings she didn’t see them leave nor come back, seeing as Y/N had the week off from filming, but the morning of the seventh day was awkward as hell, given how all of them had to go and get tested, and well, they had their allocated time slots one after the other. Usually, they’d take one car together, but this time, Y/N drove off on her own, while Harry and Florence carpooled on their own.

      The tests were always nerve-wracking. If one person went down, the whole production did for at least two weeks. And as much as she hated going in alone, she was glad no one was with her in the car, because as she stepped out, a certain notion swept over her that this would be a lot different than usual.

      A doctor dressed head to toe in protective gear motioned for her to sit down, as another processed her ID and work ID. Her leg was bouncing up and down the whole time, and he eyed her. If she could see his lips, she was sure they’d be pursed. “Anything wrong?” He handed her back the IDs before moving to the table where a set of large q-tips seemed to lay in sterile packs.

      Y/N sighed, biting her lip and nodded. “Woke up with a sore throat and a small cough appeared on my way here as well. I wiped and cleaned everything down at the apartment I’m staying at and wore gloves and a mask the whole time.”

      “Anything else?” the doctor asked, writing down each word as Y/N said. “The feeling of breaking bones, fever, muscle pain, eyes hurting when you look up, lost sense of smell or taste?”

      “No, nothing like that. Just a sore throat and a small cough.”

The doctor let out a large sigh, probably from having to wear a full-on hazmat suit. “Alright. Just for safety reasons, so we know who’s a potential contact person, who are you staying with?”

      “Florence Pugh and Harry Styles. We’re renting an apartment together.”

      “Do you know if they’ve had any symptoms?”

      “No,” Y/N shook her head honestly. “And I haven’t really interacted with them this past week, as they’ve been on set, and I didn’t have any scenes to film, and by the time they get back, I’m already asleep, and I’m still asleep when they leave so there’s been no direct contact. We have our own kitchenware, so there shouldn’t be any direct contact. I think.”

      That last bit was half-true, seeing as she hadn’t been asleep when they came back, but she might as well have been. The second Y/N heard the door click, she’d place her headphones on or leave the room, only glimpsing the two faces falling as she did that.

      The doctor clearing his throat and motioning for Y/N to open her mouth so he could take a swab and then to do the same for both her nostrils, was what brought her out of it. She was so used to it, it was like nothing at that point. “Okay. We’ll need you to stay in the car while the test is being run, and if it comes back positive, you’ll be placed in a separate flat, as to not endanger the rest.”

      Her ‘alright’ was barely audible. Fuck. It just felt like the universe was against her. First, the two people she’d gotten closest to were whispering behind her back and being fake to her face, now she might have a super contagious virus to which there was no medicine really, nor was there a vaccine, let alone the thought she’d have to miss filming for potentially more than two weeks.

      The thirty minutes of wait were agonizing, her leg bouncing up and down. Y/N’s eyes kept watching the line of cars slowly move forward through the tent and then settle behind hers. She knew Harry was about five cars away, and she was glad he wasn’t closer. They weren’t really allowed to get out of their vehicles while the tests were being run, and Y/N didn’t think she’d be able to not look back at him through her review mirror. 

      Two more minutes passed when finally, one of the med students in the full hazmat suit came up and knocked on her car window.

      “Miss Y/L/N?”

      “Yes?” 

      “ID please.” It was standard so that no med info got leaked. The only reason she had to rummage through her stuff was, because she’d bite the little plastic card in half if she didn’t throw it somewhere deep inside her bag.

      “So.” The man sighed, and he didn’t need to elaborate. Y/N understood, but still, he had to confirm it to her. “Your test came back positive for COVID-19. The production has been informed, and for safety reasons, everyone will have to self-isolate for two weeks.”

      Y/N’s head slammed against the back of the seat. “Fuck. Okay.”

      “Because so far, you’re the only positive case, you’ll be placed into quarantine. We’ll need the address you’re staying at, and if you need anything from your apartment, we can send someone over to grab a few things. You’ll have to follow the black SUV right there.” He pointed further down the lot where indeed a black SUV stood. “They’ll take you to where the quarantine apartments are. Is there anything immediate you’ll need?”

      “I – uh – I need my pills, my birth control that is. I take it every evening. Computer, chargers. That’s the most immediate I can think of. Maybe some food? I didn’t get the chance to eat breakfast.”

      Even through the mask, Y/N could see the man smile. “Well arrange that. In the meantime, here’s the number for the coordinators who’ll get you the rest of your things and deliver them to you.”

      “Thank you. I’ll call my assistant, and she’ll drive down to the apartment. She knows where everything is.”

      “Have you been in close contact with her?”

      “Just through the phone. She hasn’t been on set in almost a month, as I told her only to come when it’s an emergency… Guess this is it.” Y/N let out an awkward chuckle.

      And truly that was it. With one last motion as to where the SUV stood, she started back up the engine, reversed out of the spot and followed the car to where the ‘Don’t Worry Darling’ production had set up a few quarantine apartments, specifically for actors and crew, speed-dialling her assistant Anna and letting her know of the situation.

      “Shit, girl,” she’d cursed. “That sucks.”

      “Tell me about it.”

      “Okay,” Anna huffed. “Do you have a spare key for the apartment by any case or do I need to go down to the lot and ask Harry or Florence?”

      “Both of them will be at the apartment, given how everything’s shut down, so they should be able to open the door for you. Hopefully, if both of them are negative. If not, call me, I’ll tell you where we hide the spare. Thank you, Anna.”

      “Of course.”

      As Y/N pulled up behind the SUV, a man and a woman in face guards and masks stepped out. She ended the call and stepped out as well, pulling on a cloth face mask, an envelope in their hands, which they handed to her.

      “Your flat’s on the third floor, 367. When you have the list of things you need, forward them to us, and we’ll gather your things.”

      Y/N nodded and gave them a tight smile. “Thank you. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

      With a sigh, she took her bag and entered the complex. As much as she’d only had a small cough in the morning and a sore throat, walking up those flights of stairs made her winded more than it usually would. Maybe it was the knowledge she had a sickness, or maybe it was stress about missing work and putting everyone on lockdown, or maybe it was the combination of it all with her falling out with Harry and Florence on top.

      She placed the key in the lock and twisted, revealing a studio type apartment, and it was so bare it made her heart clench. As much as she felt awkward being around Florence and Harry, their flat was a bit messy, had little pieces of clothing thrown around, giant knitted blankets on the sofas, a candle always lit whenever someone was home. Harry’s shoes were typically all over the place while Y/N’s make up was scattered around everywhere. Literally. Florence and Harry had gotten back early one morning from a night shoot and found her looking under the sofas for one of her lash glues as she started to get ready for the day. They’d made that flat their home for the time being. This… this was nothing like that.

      She threw the keys on the small kitchen counter and shrugged off her jacket. They was going to be a long two weeks. At best.

 ***

       Back at their place, Florence and Harry were pacing around, having heard the news that someone was positive, and everything had to shut down for the time being, yet Y/N was nowhere to be seen when a knock at the door disrupted them.

      Harry was there and flinging it open in a matter of a second, only to be stopped by Anna instead of Y/N.

      “Hey.” His brows furrowed as she and two people all wearing masks and gloves entered. “What’s going on? Is Y/N alright?”

      Anna sighed, nodding her head for the two strangers to go towards the woman’s room. “She was the one who tested positive for the virus. Gave me a list of the things she’d need while in quarantine. We’re here to pick ‘em up and get them to her.”

      “And she’s not doing that here?”

      “Per the safety instructions, she’s been placed in a separate flat in self-isolation.”

      “She could’ve done that here. We’d be fine with it,” Florence butted in, arms crossed over her chest. “We’re more than willing to take care of her. She’ll need someone to help her.”

      “You both tested negative.” One of the people piped up, carrying a box of books and yarn. “I’m sorry, but she’ll have to quarantine separately until she’s no longer infected. She’s under the supervision of doctors, and she knows if an emergency happens, they’ll be there in ten minutes tops. I’m sorry, but this is how it has to be.”

      Harry sighed, nodding as the people exited their place, but before Anna could leave, he took hold of her bicep. “Hey, can you please tell her to call me? I just wanna talk.”

      “I uh – ” Anna furrowed her brows, showing Harry that Y/N hadn’t said anything to her about the falling out they’d had. “I’ll uh, yeah. I’ll do that.”

      With that he was left to close the door and just wait for… anything.

 ***

       In the two hours Y/N had spent in the apartment, she already felt like going insane, having been left alone with her thoughts, so how she was going to do another two weeks after finally getting back into the rhythm of work was beyond her. She didn’t have any of her knitting supplies, didn’t have any of her books (yet), and most likely there was no reason to look at her script anymore, as she’d made up her mind about a lot of things. 

      There was a knock at the door, and Y/N instantly had a mask on her face and gloves on her hands. She peeped through the peephole and when she saw boxes lined in the hallway, three people in masks and faceguards at least six feet away, only then did she open the door and give them a wave.

      “Everything should be here, but if you need anything else just pop me a message.” Anna then pointed at a bag that sat atop everything. “There are the most important things, so you don’t have to rummage through everything and a pizza is on the way while I do some grocery shopping for you. And umm, there’s a paper you need to sing that you know you need to be in self-isolation and that you understand what happens if you’re not.”

      Y/N hoped all of them understood she was smiling underneath the mask, grateful for having them help her out like that. “Thank you. So much.”

      She rushed inside found a pen and signed it, moving between the boxes to place the papers on the stairs so that they could be safely retrieved. With that, the two assigned people left, leaving Anna to say goodbye.

      “Call me.” She pointed at Y/N. “No matter what, even if you just wanna talk for five seconds.”

      “Will do.” Y/N nodded and gave her a thumbs up. “If I could, I’d hug you.”

      Anna sighed, cocking her head. “Same. And umm, Harry told me to ask you to call him.”

      “Yeah, uh thank you.” She knew he probably wanted to talk, so it wasn’t that big of a surprise, but it still made her stumble on her words. “Take care, Anna.”

      “You too.”

***

       The next two days Y/N spent worrying as to how to present her decisions to the cast and crew. She felt worse with every hour, and with that had come her thought process, but as much as everyone was going to be impacted by what she was going to do, Olivia would be the one dealing with it most, so later that night she hopped on a Zoom call with her director.

      “Hey, girl.” Olivia gave her a warm smile, and Y/N almost melted. God, she loved that woman. She was like the older sister she never had. “How are you doing?”

      “I’m alright. Feelin’ kind of woozy from time to time, throat’s killing me, and I’m fairly certain I’m getting abs from how much I’m coughing.” That made both of them chuckle before Y/N bit her lip and ran a hand through her hair. “Look,” she sighed, looking at Olivia. “The reason I called you is that umm… well, I think it’d be a lot more cost-effective for you to re-cast me. We’ve barely shot one scene with me. I’ll be out of commission for two weeks, as a minimum. It could get worse. And I’m definitely not going to be back before I get two negative consecutive tests.”

      Olivia shook her head, running down her hands over her face and then through her hair. “Y/N, I really don’t want to do this. There’s a reason we cast you. You’re amazing, and yours and Harry’s chemistry is off the charts. We’re all quarantining for two weeks, and I’m sure you’ll be fine in no time, back on set and killing it like you always do.”

      “You don’t know that.”

      “Of course, I do! Nothing’s gonna happen to you.”

      “All I’m saying it could take up to a month to get those two negative tests. By that point, you could’ve shot at least a fourth of my scenes. Olivia…” Y/N gave her a small, sad smile. “I know you know I’m right. I hate to pass on this, but I won’t hinder the production. If you want my input, I’ll help with the re-casting, if it takes the guilt away.”

      “I still feel like shit this is an option we even have to consider.”

      “’S not your fault. You didn’t get me sick. We should be happy it’s just me, not someone else or more than one person.”

            ***

      For two more days, it was radio silence from Y/N, and Harry and Florence were anxious messes. If they could distract themselves from the falling out while on set, then now, having to be cooped up inside the apartment with pretty much nothing to do, was so much worse, not to mention Y/N declined all of their calls and left their messages on read, leaving the only option for checking in either through Anna or what she decided to share on her social media, which wasn’t a lot. But the thing was, Harry knew his best bet was to call Y/N in the middle of the night. Disorientated and barely awake, she probably wouldn’t look at the caller ID once. And he was right.

      A bleary face appeared on his screen, eyes squinting as she tried to block out as much of the light as possible. “Hello?” Her voice was scratchy, and Harry’s heart clenched at just how much pain her throat must be in, let alone how she was feeling as a whole.

      “Hey, there, lovie.”

      It took her a second to comprehend the person who was speaking, and she’d be lying if she said hearing Harry’s voice didn’t bring her some sort of joy. “Hey, H. Are you alright? Why are you still up?”

      “I couldn’t sleep. Kept thinking about you.”

      Y/N hummed, rolling on her side, and immediately regretting it as the action elicited a coughing fit. “Yeah?” she asked hoarsely. “ ’Nd what about me?”

      ‘How shitty I feel about everything’, ‘I miss you’, ‘I’m so fucking terrified’, but instead he asked, “How are you doing?”

      “Alright,” Y/N croaked out before her body was racked with coughs once more. Harry’s own chest hurt just hearing them. “Fever’s finally down, so I’m getting some sort of sleep. Throat’s killing me though, and they’ve hooked me up to an IV. They’ll be coming in two hours or so to change the bag. How are you?” she asked quietly. “How’s Florence?”

      “She’s alright. Upset. Just like I am.”

      Y/N’s brows furrowed. “Why’re you upset?”

      “Are you kidding me? You’re sick, alone in quarantine and… and we can’t help you. I can’t help you.”

      A genuine chuckle escaped her. “Didn’t know you had a medical degree, Styles. Could be my personal nurse. Fetch me my water and shit.”

      “No, but at least I’d like to be there for you.”

      “Harry…” 

      “I like you,” he said after taking a deep breath, hoping that the break he’d heard in Y/N’s voice as she’d said his name wasn’t just because of the sickness, but because her heart thudded just as fast as his when he thought of them together, that her mind reeled with the possibilities of where their futures could take them and that whenever they touched, she could feel the electricity that ran through his fingertips, igniting his whole body. “That’s what Florence and I were whispering about all the time. Is that I’m madly crushing on you, and I couldn’t gather the courage to say it to you.”

      A strong coughing fit made her drop the phone on the bed and lean over, as she gasped for breath, and through it all, all Harry wanted was to be there. Fuck him possibly getting the virus, as long as he could make it easier for her in some way. 

      “ ’M sorry,” Y/N whispered, trying to keep her voice as low as possible as to not aggravate her throat. “Harry, I’m so sorry.”

      “Hey, there’s nothing to apologise. You’re sick, you can’t help –”

      “No,” she shook her head. “I’m sorry I assumed you and Florence were talking bad behind my back. I never should’ve done that. And this is not an excuse, I’m not trying to shift the blame from being in the wrong, but I like you too.” She gave him a shy grin that he thought was as bright as the sun. “I really like you too, Harry. I think that’s why it hurt so much to hear you two whispering ‘bout something. And thinking it was about me, and it was something bad, hurt even more, ‘cause I really connected with Flo, and I kinda, well I kind of fell for you. Hard.”

      “You did?” His tone was like he didn’t believe what his ears were hearing.

      “Yeah. A lot actually… I – I really like you, Harry.”

      He couldn’t explain how his heart expanded in his chest while simultaneously was being crushed by his inability to help, by the distance between them, while the hope that glimmered in his eyes at Y/N’s words made her heart break as much as his was, when he asked, “So you won’t resign?”

“Harry,” Y/N made her voice as tough as it could sound with her condition. “I told them to re-cast me not because of you. I’ve been on enough sets and worked with enough pricks, and still gotten the job done. Genuinely, this is not because of you or Florence. I just – I just don’t want to hold up production. You’ll all be out in what – twelve days or something? I’ll be here for at least twice that, if everything goes the way it’s going right now.”

      “I don’t want anyone else to play Larie. You are my Larie,” he muttered, which made Y/N smile, but in a true Y/N fashion she just wanted to make others feel better. 

      “You do know Jack murders Larie in the middle of the night.”

      Harry’s mouth opened like a fishes’ while Y/N’s mouth pulled up in a grin. “That’s – that’s not what I mean, and you know it!”

      Both of them were laughing now, all tension having evaporated. 

      “I know.” She bit on her lower lip. “But um… we’ve gotta be practical. I sent Olivia my resignation letter already, and she signed.”

      She saw Harry sigh and throw back his head at her words. 

      “ ’M sorry, Haz. I didn’t want to but –”

      “I know.” His smile was gentle, understanding. “You always put everyone before yourself. God, this just sucks major ass.”

      “Trust me,” Y/N started before being interrupted by another major coughing fit. “I –,” she took in a breath. “I know.”

      Her heart cracked seeing Harry’s face and his green eyes, the eyes she’d gotten lost in more times than she’d ever admitted being lined by tears. “I wish I could help you.”

      “But you are. Just by – by talking to me, by keeping my mind off things. You’re helping me more than you’ll ever know.”

      “When you get out, I’m taking you on a date.”

      Y/N couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on her face. For the first time in a while, she felt good, despite being sick. “Is that a threat, Styles?”

      “It’s a fucking promise.”

      That night she fell asleep listening to Harry talking, seeing as it became harder and harder for her to do so, so he just took over, telling her stories that lulled her to dreamland where he was there, and she could touch him. 

      The following days she also had calls with Florence and the rest of her cast to explain the situation, but she wasn’t doing much talking anymore, and one night they’d even seen her almost throw up from coughing so much, which broke everyone’s hearts. They were lucky the only Covid case before Y/N had been a light one, so witnessing just how brutal it could be, made everyone appreciate what they had, but at the same time, feel as helpless as ever.

      A week and a half in, that was when shit really hit the fan. Despite her feeling shitty the previous days, now Y/N woke up from the feeling as if she was drowning. She’d fallen asleep while talking with Harry on FaceTime, his features illuminated on her phone. At first, she thought it was just her dream still lingering and causing that effect, but when after a minute or so her lungs still remained on fire, she knew she had to dial the doctors.

      In five minutes’ time, an ambulance was at her door, and it was a miracle she’d been able to get out of bed to open it because the second she did, her whole body pretty much collapsed into the arms of one of the nurses. 

*** 

      “Come on,” Harry muttered into the phone, pulling on a pair of trousers as quickly as possible and a knitted sweater he took from the floor as he immediately tried to redial her, having heard the call drop. “Come on! Pick up, Y/N!” Her voicemail answered instead.

      “Damn it!”

      It took Harry seven minutes with the way he was driving to get to her assigned isolation place, only to be greeted by red and blue flashing lights, an ambulance right in front of the entrance, and it took Harry five seconds to feel his heart drop as a team of three doctors wheeled out a gurney on which lay Y/N, face covered in a mask, an IV stuck inside her arm while a huge plastic cover domed over her body.

      Without even thinking about himself or his safety, Harry jumped out of his car, rushing towards the ambulance.

      “Sir.” One of the doctors extended a palm towards him, keeping him back as Harry tried to get towards the inside of the car. “Sir, you can’t be here.”

      “Is that Y/N?” Harry felt like he was spinning out of control, and his mind was dizzy from not being able to take in a proper breath. “Is – is that Y/N?” 

      “Are you family?”

      “I –,” Harry so desperately wanted to say yes, to say he was her boyfriend at least, but he couldn’t lie. “No, I’m just her collegue – friend! I’m her friend. Is she alright?”

      “Okay, well is there anyone we can contact from her family?”

      Harry nodded, knowing that her mum and dad were on her emergency contact lists. “But her family is out of the country, and they won’t be able to fly out with all the restrictions in place.”

      “Alright.” The doctor sighed before looking back inside the car. In a way, Harry was happy he couldn’t see Y/N because he was sure if he did, he’d completely break down and crumble to the ground. “We’ll contact her parents, but if you could leave us your number as an emergency contact on place that’d be a lot of help.”

      “Okay, uh…” Harry took in a deep breath, held it for five seconds and then let it out before reciting the number he used while in the USA and his permanent UK number as well, so he could be reachable anywhere and at any point in day or night, no matter the time. 

      “Well keep you up to date.”

      And with that, the ambulance doors shut, and they rushed away, the vailing of sirens echoing in the dark night, leaving Harry with a hand in his hair, tears streaming down his cheeks and without a clue as to what to do.

***

      In the end, Harry had gone back to his car and cried for what felt like ages, but instead, it was just twenty minutes. He pulled himself together but was still shaking as he made his way back to the flat where Florence basically ripped open the door. Seeing his face told her everything she needed to know.

      “She’ll be alright,” the woman muttered as she soothed Harry by rubbing a palm up and down his back, letting him hide his face in her shoulder. “It’s Y/N. She’d pull through an atomic bomb.”

      They spent the rest of the night and the following day on the couch, glued to Harry’s phone waiting for any sort of updates. From time to time a text message came from the hospital letting them know what procedures were being done on Y/N, that her parents have been informed, and if necessary, they’d allowed Harry to be the main contact person because of his proximity to their daughter.

      Three days later and the quarantine for the rest of the cast and crew ended, yet when they returned to the set, everyone was in low spirits. Especially, Harry – he was miserable. Every moment spent not reciting lines or acting was occupied with the thoughts of Y/N, how she was doing, was she improving, was she still breathing, how he wanted to just ditch everything and run to her, to help in whatever way he could.

      “This sucks,” Florence grumbled, arms crossed over her chest as they took a break while re-setting already in for the fifth day of filming, eight since Y/N’d been in the hospital. “Can’t believe they won’t allow a phone in with her.”

      “It’s the same policy for everyone, but trust me,” Harry sighed and looked up at the bright blue sunny sky above. “The number of times I got out of my bed in the middle of the night and had the car keys in hand is ridiculous. And the number of times I’ve thought about breaking into that hospital is even more concerning.”     

      Florence let out a small chuckle and nudged his shoulder. “I’d cover for you if you did. As long as she doesn’t have to be there alone.” She hung her head, blond strands falling down to curtain her face. “Can’t imagine how scared she must be.”

      Harry just sighed. There really wasn’t anything he could say. 

      Something vibrated in his pocket, but he no longer furrowed his brows when unknown numbers called, knowing it was from the hospital. It was nerve-wracking though to pick up the call each time because he had to mentally prepare himself for the possibility of bad news, even though he always hoped for good ones. 

      “Yes, hi. Hello. I – oh,” he put a hand over his mouth and sagged down onto a chair. “Oh, thank god, thank you, doctor. Yeah. Yes, I’ll let her know, and someone will be there to open the flat. Thank you again. For everything.”

      He took away the phone from his ear and stared at the ground for a minute before leaping up and hugging Florence, laughter escaping his mouth.

      “What’s wrong?”

      “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong, it’s the opposite. Y/N’s out of the hospital.”

      “Oh thank god!” Her hands flew to hug him back.

      “She’ll have to stay in self-isolation until the two negative tests and will be monitored by the doctors, but she’s out.”

        Immediately he was dialling her, and Harry had never been as happy for the invention of a video call, because when he saw Y/N’s face light up the screen, as tired as she looked, it was the most beautiful sight that graced his eyes.

      “Hey, lovie.” His voice was soft and low as if anything louder would worsen her state.

      Her ‘hey’ was barely audible, but he heard it, and it made the weight of a boulder drop off his shoulders.

      “I’m so – I mean we all are so happy you’re back home.”

      Y/N smiled, shaking her head. “I’m happy too,” she whispered. “I missed you. Missed everyone, but most of all I missed you.”

      Harry was happy they were separated by a screen because if she was anywhere in a five-mile radius, he was sure she would be able to hear his heart beat out of his ribcage at her words. “How are you feeling?”

      “ ‘M alright,” Y/N tried to let him know. “Very tired.”

      “Then get back to sleep, lovie.”

      Y/N shook her head. “Wanna talk to you.”

      “I’ll keep talking,” Harry promised. “Like we did before, okay.”

      “Okay…”

      And so, he did. He kept talking as Y/N listened, and he watched as her eyes slowly closed before she drifted off to sleep. Even though Harry had to go back to filming, he didn’t dare end the call. He’d never end the call. 

***

      It took a month and a half for Y/N to get those two consecutive negative tests, to feel somewhat human again and when she did, she probably garnered at least seven speeding tickets with how fast she was driving down to the set.

      It was the most inconspicuous outfit she could scramble together, consisting of a hoodie and baseball cap, as she watched Harry as Jack lean down to peck the actress’s lips, then step into the vintage car and rev out in the driveway, while a dishevelled Florence started the scene from the side, eyes racking over Jack’s first wife, who was dressed the exact same way, hair styled like hers and even nails painted the same, her character putting all the puzzle pieces together. 

      “And cut!” Olivia yelled across the lot, nudging Y/N’s side and giving her a smirk. “He’s gonna freak. You’re all he’s been talking about on set. We almost had to put a ban on you as a topic,” she muttered that part so only the woman could hear while telling everyone to re-set, so they could do the scene from another angle, but not before asking the three actors to come and look at the monitors so they could understand how to move in order to keep the continuity.

      Y/N moved to the side, ducking her head down as Harry, Florence and Mandy, the actress that took over her role, all leaned closer to watch the monitors. Y/N had to bite on her lip to keep the grin away, as all of them analysed their movements and the scene, nodding along to what Olivia was saying.

      “Y/L/N, what do you think?” Olivia asked, grinning. 

      Y/N stepped forward a bit, seeing all of their shocked faces through her peripheral, as she pointed to the screen, lifting her head so that everyone could see her face fully. “I think it’s great, you might want to step to the side a bit more, Harry, when –” but she was unable to finish the sentence as he swooped her in his arms, lifting her basically off the ground, and burying his face in her neck.

      “Watch the hair! Daniele will have a fit if you ruin her masterpiece!” Y/N laughed, holding one of her hands on the base of his neck, the other tightly wrapped around his shoulders, but he just shook his head, and she could feel tears splash her skin.

      “Fuck the hair!” He let out a small chuckle, and she could hear the lump in his throat. “I’ve missed you so much. I was so scared.”

      “Same,” Y/N whispered. “Missed you like crazy. And your stupid, unfunny dad jokes.”

      “ ‘M hilarious, lovie, what are you talking about?”

      He finally set her down but didn’t let go of her waist, and she smiled cupping his cheeks. “A true comedian, that’s what you are.”

      “I know. Why’dya think I got that SNL slot?”

      But his eyes, as he gazed into hers once more glassed over.

      “Hey,” Y/N cooed wiping away the tears running down his cheeks. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry, cause then I’ll cry, and we’re both gonna be crying messes, and then these guys will have to deal with that.”

      Harry sighed, leaning into her touch. “Happy tears, lovie. All happy tears.”

      The two looked at one another as if there was no one else in the universe. And for the two of them, there really wasn’t. Neither had to say what was on their minds, they already knew.

      His face was inching closer to Y/N’s, and heart started to beat erratically, not that Harry minded, as his palm rested in the middle of her back. In fact, his own heart mimicked the rhythm, but it stuttered when someone behind him cleared their throat and interrupted their moment.

      Y/N hid her face in Harry’s chest as he sighed at Olivia’s raised eyebrow. 

      “You’ll be able to smooch as much as you want, but we need him in hair and make-up.”

      “Oli-“

      “Now,” she let out a small laugh. “Before Daniele removes my head from my shoulders.”

      “Go,” Y/N patted his side. “I’ll still be here.”

      “Is that a threat?”

      She grinned up at him. “A fucking promise.”

      Harry dashed away like lightning, hoping that the quicker he was done, the sooner he could have Y/N back in his arms even if it was for a second, but her attention was taken by a woman with long blond curls, a flowing green slip on her figure; her steps unsure as was the wave she gave her, but Y/N’s heart melted at the sight of her.

      “Hey, Flo,” she whispered and brought the girl in a bone-crushing hug, holding onto her, trying to convey how much she regretted her words and actions, especially because they were unwarranted.

      “I’m so sorry,” Y/N said, and she nodded.

      “Me too.”

      Y/N shook her head. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

      “And I should’ve made sure Harry pulled his head out of his ass.”

      That made both of them laugh, and it was nice to do it not only without having to cough up her insides, but to do it with someone she’d connected with and had become great friends with.

      “He did that. I just hope if he wants to make another move, it won’t take me dying to push him to.”

      Florence pointed at her, a serious look on her face. “I’ll kill him with my bare hands if he does.”

      A small noise of someone clearing their throat from behind Y/N took both of their attentions for them to go onto the actress who’d been cast as her replacement, the woman coming forward and extending her hand for a handshake with a nervous smile. “Hi. I’m Mandy.”

      “ ‘S very nice to meet you.” Y/N tried to give off as open and accepting of a vibe as much as possible, because she genuinely wanted Mandy to feel respected and that she wasn’t a threat. “Before you think anything if you’re worried about me taking the role, don’t. It’s all yours, so don’t worry about that. I just stopped by ‘cause I hadn’t seen anyone in almost two months. Never thought I’d say this, but fuck did I missed people.”

      Mandy shook her head, her smile a lot lighter and brighter now. “I – uh thank you for that actually. I’m a huge fan of yours, and well, can only try and live up to what you would’ve portrayed.”

      “Well, I’m sure you’ll absolutely kill it, and I can’t wait for the movie.”

      It was great to see Mandy’s shoulders drop in relief. “Would it be too much if I asked for advice on the role?”

      “No,” Y/N laughed. “But I would say that you should make this role your own. It is yours. You are Larie now. And Harry’s Jack. Make it yours.”

      As she said that, she turned to watch Harry who was practically bouncing on his feet, green eyes flitting back to where she was standing, and when their gazes met, neither could help the smiles blooming on their faces.

       “You know he messed up a scene once and said your name?”    

      Y/N’s brows furrowed as she looked over at Mandy. “What do you mean ‘said my name’?”

      “It was a kissing scene. The wedding bit, actually. As Jack and Larie recited their vows, and he leans down to kiss her, he was supposed to say, ‘I’ll love you Larie, until the very end’. He said your name instead.”

      That hit Y/N more than a semi-truck wheeling a ton of bricks would. Yes, she knew Harry liked her, and he knew she liked him, but love was a big word, and for him to admit that, whether it was a flub or not, was even bigger.

      Harry was a private person. While he openly talked about what he felt, he guarded heart at the same time, much like Y/N did. But she had to wait until Olivia yelled cut for the day, and had to watch him make a mad dash for hair and make-up before running to the dressing trailer as he didn’t want to miss out on a second he could spend with her. Even as they walked up to their shared flat and he opened the door, his fingers stayed intertwined with hers.

      “How does it feel to be back?”

      “Kinda shitty, honestly,” Y/N laughed throwing the keys to the table and shrugging out of the jacket and taking off the cap, Harry immediately helping her and putting it on one of the racks. “I’ll have to move out, now that I’m not part of the movie.”

      “Why? ‘S not like the production is paying our rent, we’re doing it out of our own pocket.”

      “Yes, but now that I don’t have a job, I kinda need to look for one.”

      “And what says that you can’t live here while you do that?”

      “I –,” Y/N’s brows furrowed. “I mean nothing, really… I just… kinda thought because I’m not part of the movie anymore it’d be safer if I found my own place. But um… I think I have something else I’d like to talk about. Mandy,” Y/N dragged out her name a bit, a sly smirk appearing on her face, “told me you had a flub on set.”

      Harry’s heart was pounding underneath her palm where she’d grabbed onto the lapels of his dress shirt, so he couldn’t run away. 

“I’ve uh,” he let out a nervous laugh. “I’ve had a couple of flubs on set. Who hasn’t?”

      “I don’t doubt that. But she said you misspoke a name.”

      She made him look into her eyes and wouldn’t dare let their gaze break. “You said my name during the wedding scene. You said Y/N. Not Larie.”

      Harry looked like a cross between a deer in headlights and a fish out of the water, eyes wide with his mouth opening and closing, no sound coming out, which made Y/N worry a bit.

      She placed a palm against his cheek. “Harry? You alright?”

      “I – I meant it.” He let out a deep sigh and leaned down to press his forehead to hers. “And when I thought back on it, I don’t remember seeing her face or Larie’s face. It was yours. And the lips I was kissing belonged to you too. I was holding your hand, and you were holding mine. And I know it’s way too quick, for a wedding -”

      “Unless you threaten me with it –”

      “I –,” Harry stuttered before laughing, all tension evaporating from his body. “No, that I don’t want to be a threat. That will be a question asked with love and hopefully an answer given to it the same way.”

      Y/N nudged his nose with hers. “Well, we’ll see. I mean if you don’t kiss me what makes you th–,” 

      But she didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence before his lips were on hers, pressing with such gentleness, it made her weak at the knees, and she would’ve crumbled if Harry’s arms handn’t woven around her middle, fingers pressing into the sides, the pressure increasing with each second their mouths were connected. 

      Harry’s hand drifted up Y/N’s back and settled on her neck as if he could pull her any closer, her own palms slipping over his stomach, pecks and grabbing onto his jaw, fingers lightly scratching at the stubble that’d grown throughout the day. He had to shave every morning for the role of Jack, but each evening she’d see a small, darkened shadow across his skin, and Y/N would be lying that when she’d realised her attraction to him, she hadn’t thought about how delicious it would feel to have it leave small burn marks on the inside of her thighs. 

      Unconsciously, she clenched her thighs, trying to create some sort of friction which became more and more unbearable as she felt Harry moan into her mouth, tongue sweeping against her lower lip, asking for permission without words, which Y/N granted without a second to spare. 

      It was heavenly to have him so close to her. She did wonder if the sensation was intensified by the fact, she hadn’t been able to touch anyone properly for almost two months, but that thought vanished when his fingers skimmed underneath her hoodie, brushing against her heated skin. No. It was because it was Harry.

       “I –,” he was breathless as he pulled away, but Y/N didn’t let him get too far, her lips attaching themselves to his neck, making him groan in pleasure. “I don’t want to push this too far.”

      Her brows scrunched up, as she took a look at him. “What do you mean? If you think I don’t want this, then let me be perfectly clear – I do. A lot.”

      Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m so fucking glad you do, but… Y/N you just got out of the hospital, where you were on a ventilator. I don’t want to make anything worse.”

      “Not your choice to make.” A devious smile appeared on her face, as she stepped a few feet away and lifted her hoodie over her head, making Harry inhale sharply. “So here are your two options.” Her hands went behind her back, unclasping her bra and letting it slowly drop to the floor, the green eyes that hadn’t left her now wide as saucers. “Number one.” She toed off her boots and popped open the button of her jeans. “We can stop this, obviously, just say the word, and I get to my room, start packing and looking for a new place. We can have some dinner and just chill. Or number two.” Y/N hooked her jeans behind her thumbs and slowly dragged them down her legs, revealing more and more of herself to Harry. “We can go inside your room and make up for the lost time. In every position imaginable, for as long as you want. But.” Y/N’s eyes glimmered with mischief as she made her way to Harry’s room. “I don’t think you wanna take the first option.”

      Harry ran a hand through his hair, turning it from the meticulously gelled hairstyle into a mop of messy strands. “You know you’re making it really hard for me to be a gentleman.”

      Y/N swayed her hips a bit more as she took another step closer to his room, the door meeting her back, and one of her hands went to the doorknob, pressing down on it. “Well, a gentleman doesn’t kiss before the first date, and definitely not like that.”

      He stood there, hands on his hips, eyes not leaving her body, as she cocked her head. “So, what’s it gonna be?”

      They were ten torturous seconds for both, hearts beating out of their chests, but it only took three steps for Harry to cross the hallway, his hand sneaking behind Y/N’s back and pressing down on the doorknob as well, revealing the inside of his room. It was messy, much like her own, but it wouldn’t take too much to rip all off the tossed around bedding leaving a whole bed to themselves. 

      “You. Are. The. Devil.”

      Her smile was nothing short of wicked. “I mean you can listen to the angel on your shoulder.”

      “I’d rather listen to you.”

      Together they stepped inside, and Y/N nodded. “Making good choices already.”

      “Can’t get on your bad side, can I now?”

      “I mean you can.” Her legs hit the back of his bed and she fell down on it, Harry leaning over, resting his elbows next to her head. “But bad boys get punished.”

      His nose skimmed over hers. Now he was the one smiling like a devil. “I’ll hold you to your word. For future reference, that is.”

      That kiss was nothing like their first. This was messy, and passionate, all tongue and teeth, hands grabbing everywhere possible to get the other unclothed. Or at least that’s what Y/N was trying to do, seeing as she was pretty much naked already, and Harry was the one still wearing too much.

      Her hands pretty much ripped open the shirt. It one of his expensive Gucci ones, she was quite certain of it, but it didn’t seem like he cared, as he shrugged it off, throwing it to land somewhere on the floor.

      Y/N sighed into his mouth as her hands were now freely allowed to run over his chest, over the ink embedded into his skin, over taut muscles that relaxed under her touch, and dig into his sides in an attempt to leave her own marks on him, much like he was going to do to her. 

      “Think you can take your pants off? It’s only fair.” Y/N muttered into his mouth and his own travelled down to her cheek, then neck and to her chest.

      “You mean my trousers?”

      Her lips quirked up and she shrugged her shoulders. “No, in this case, I meant pants the British way.”

      “And if I’m going commando?”

      Y/N pressed her hand against his chest and pushed him away from her. “You had nothing underneath all day on set?”

      “No! I wouldn’t subject the dressing department to that. But underneath this.” He looked down at his jeans and smiled at her. “I do have nothing.”

      “Well then? Get on with it!”

      Both of them were giggling, as Y/N tried to unbuckle Harry’s belt, his own fingers mixing with hers as he went for the zipper and the button. He nudged his head towards her. “Your socks and pants come off as well. Or we’ll be unevenly matched.”

      Y/N lifted her eyebrow, as she went for her own remaining pieces of clothing. “No socks during sex?”

      “No, what kind of a weirdo do you think I am?”

      “And if my feet get cold?” She threw them away somewhere.

      “We have a blanket.”

      As Harry removed his jeans and his own socks, Y/N slipped off the dampened piece of clothing that’d been on her, now both of them completely naked. 

      “Alright.” He leaned over her again, her arms wrapping around his shoulders and pulling them chest to chest. “Happy now?”

      Y/N deeply kissed him. “Very. But I think we can make each other even happier.”

      “Agreed,” Harry hummed. “Wanna get a taste first.” He attached his lips to her collarbones sucking a bruise there. “Can I?”

      She groaned at the feeling, knowing there be a pleasant ache that accompanied mark. “You can. Don’t have to, if you don’t want. No need to do this for me.”

      “And if it’s for me?” Harry was moving lower and lower with each word, wet tongue flicking against a perked bud, and making Y/N gasp. “What if I wanna feel you cum on my tongue, and what if I wanna do something I’ve dreamed about for months now?”

      His hands were kneading her breasts, mouth having left a trail of kisses down the middle of her stomach as it was moving towards where an ache that’d been left untreated made itself more and more prominent. 

“Then please, please, please do something, Harry.”

      “With pleasure.”

      Luckily for Y/N, she didn’t have to beg any more, as his mouth attached itself to where she wanted him most, tongue sweeping past her lower lips and licking up a broad, steady stripe.

      One of her hands went to fist into her hair and the other into Harry’s. “Shit,” she moaned. “Fuck, that feels good.”

      “Guide me.” He licked a circle around her clit. “Tell me how you like it.”

      “Mhgm, fuck, okay,” Y/N breathed out. “I – I mean you’re doing great on your own.” Her chest was heaving as if she was running a marathon, and Harry shifted her legs so that they lay over his shoulders. “But umm, like if you lick around my clit, but like really press down li – oh, fuuuuck, just like that.”

      The coil in her stomach tightened with each pass he did, just like Y/N had instructed, small tight circles just how she did with her fingers, only what took her sometimes half an hour, Harry managed to do in less than ten minutes, to have her toes curling and hands grasping anywhere they could find purchase to just keep onto something real.

      The vibrations from Harry humming sent shivers straight to her core. “What else, lovie? What else, do you like?”

      “If – if –,” Y/N panted, “if you suck on it, but like – fuck – shit! If you kinda keep a seal around my clit, that fuck! Yes!”

      The way Harry was eating her out was almost sensational, but what made it even better wasn’t that he just decided to do something and assumed, she’d like it, he asked, he wanted to learn and discover what made her tick and turn, or in this case – cum. 

      “Harry, ‘m close,” Y/N warned him, feeling the warmth slowly start to spread all throughout her body. 

      “I’ll get you there.”

      He let his lips go for a moment before slipping two of his fingers so that they pinched her clit and moved them slowly but tightly up and down it, while his tongue went to slip inside her hole, and that did it for her.

      With a gasp of air, Y/N’s eyes rolled to be back of her head, hips lifting up as euphoria exploded through her veins. Her mind went completely dizzy, and she was quite sure some drool also dribbled down the side of her mouth because she’d lost all ability to function.

      “ -o me, love,” Y/N heard as if through a fog, and then felt two soothing palms running up and down her legs. “Come back, love. There you go.”

      A drunken smile bloomed on her face, and she ran a hand down it, the same hand that’d grabbed Harry’s hair like a vice. “Fuck. You’re good, you know what you’re doing.”

      “Well, I’m certainly glad you enjoyed yourself because I thoroughly enjoyed myself.”

      She watched as he straightened out to sit on his knees, her legs still over his shoulders, cock slapping against his stomach, and when she looked down there was a wet patch on his side of the sheets, a sly grin morphing on her face. “You liked eating me out so much you came yourself?”

      “What can I say – bringing pleasure, gives me pleasure. And your cunt’s probably the sweetest I’ve ever eaten. But… do you think you’re ready for me?” Harry asked, kissing the inside of Y/N’s thighs and watching as she vigorously nodded her head, but he just smirked. “I think I need to test it out. Just to make sure.”

       “Harry,” Y/N whined as she felt his fingers skim the apex of her thighs, teasing her. 

      “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

      With that, he used one of his hands to open up her lips, his thumb pressing down on her already sensitive clit, eliciting a gasp before he allowed two fingers to skim her entrance and then slipped in.

      “Still so tight,” he said, watching as Y/N sighed and her mouth fell open, his fingers curling in a come-hither motion. “Told you needed to check if you were ready. What kind of a gentleman would I be now, if I didn’t make sure you could take it?”

      Y/N gritted her teeth. “I can take you.”

      “Don’t doubt it.” Harry left kisses along her leg, as he continued on with his movements, noting how her hips slowly started to grind down on his palm, so he pushed his fingers in deeper so that the heel of his hand could rest against her clit, making the pleasure intensify. “But I’d never forgive myself if I hurt you when all I wanna do is give you pleasure. And you weren’t stretched out enough. Not yet at least.”

      “Oh, god, Harry,” Y/N groaned, one arm thrown over her eyes as his fingers hit just the right spot.

      “That’s it? Right there?”

      “Yes, right there,” she moaned. “Just. Fuck! Just don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”

      “Gonna cum again?”

      “Yes, just – just curl your fingers and twist them a bit more.”

      And much like the first time, a couple more times was all it took. Her orgasm was even more powerful than the previous and fully knocked her breath out of her lungs. Her legs fell open around his shoulders, stomach and chest spasming from the intensity. 

      Gentle fingers skimmed up and down Y/N’s arms and featherlight kisses fluttered over her breasts, then chest, neck and finally were peppered across her cheeks.

      “Kinda spaced out on me there. You alright? Not too much?”

      “ ’M – I’m good. But I’m pretty sure you’ve killed me.”

      Harry chuckled, and Y/N leaned her head to the side so she could press a kiss against the closest of the swallow tattoos. “Hopefully not. I still wanna take you out on that date.”

      Her eyes landed on Harry’s left hand’s ring finger, where a golden band still laid. 

      “Oh, yeah.” He lifted the digits, still covered in her cum before pushing them past his lips and licking them clean. “Forgot to remove it. Hope the prop guys don’t kill me.”

      She hated how his eyes sparkled, absolutely knowing what that sight did to her, how it made her stomach flutter and heart thunder against her ribs. Y/N was sure with the force it was pounding, they’d crack. 

      “Well, if they don’t, I will.” She pulled him down, nails raking on his skin, dragging to rest on his ass as they bit into it. “Now get inside me.”

      “Condom.”

      “No, ‘m on the pill.”

    �� “I’m clean, I swear, but it’s still not a hundred per cent safe.”

      Y/N shook her head. “I’ll buy the morning-after pill. Just need you inside.”

      “You sure?” Harry placed a strand of hair behind her ear. 

      “Yeah. I mean I’m clean, and uh… I just wanna feel you.”

      He’d cum once already, and Harry would be dammed if he did it again before having the chance to know how heaven feels like. As gently as possible, he took himself, giving a few strokes before nudging the tip against Y/N’s clit, her sharp inhale stalling him until she nodded. 

      Her nails dug into his biceps, as he finally slipped inside her, making both of them moan at the feeling. Even with all of the stretching out he’d done with his fingers, and the two orgasms he’d drawn from her, the slickness helping everything to be easy and smooth, Y/N still felt a little sting.

      Harry’s head dropped to Y/N’s shoulders and even from under him, she could feel his thighs and stomach shaking, as he tried to hold his composure and give her a little bit of time to adjust.

      A couple of deep breaths later, she tapped his ribs. “You can move now.”

      “ ‘ya sure?”

      “Mhm,” Y/N nodded her head and pecked his lips reassuringly. “Please.”

      His dishevelled and sweaty hair shook as he nodded and slowly drew back his hips so that just the tip of his cock remained in her before gliding back inside. The sight alone was more than enough to make both of them explode, but they wanted to last longer than thirty seconds, especially for their first time together. There’d be quickies for later, now they wanted to have a proper shag.

      Bit by bit, Harry’s pace quickened, pearls of sweat gliding down his skin and dampening the sheets below them, much like it was with Y/N. Her leg slid up to rest around his hips, giving him a better angle and more leverage for him to strike the right spot, as he pushed her knee to rest against her chest, Y/N’s head falling back to the pillow.

      Her insides were shaking from the pleasure, and it was like an invisible force was pushing down on her chest, as she struggled for a proper breath. “Harry,” she dragged out his name, the word turning into a high-pitched whine.

      “I know,” he responded in the same breathless voice. He could feel her tighten around him and wasn’t sure just how much longer he’d be able to keep up the pace. “Touch yourself ‘f me, lovie. C’mon, use those fingers.”

      Y/N did as she was told. It didn’t give her that butterfly feeling like it’d happened when they’d been Harry’s, but it did make her cum faster, and the sensation of her gushing around his cock made him lose all self-control and he spilled inside.

      It wasn’t enough for Y/N, but she guessed she needed to settle for it. She knew that nothing really ever touched in the universe, that the closest atoms ever come to touching one another is when their wave packets overlap, much like she and Harry were now overlapping, his body lying on top of hers, skin sweaty and frame trembling as he came down from his own high.

      “I uh,” Y/N cleared her throat, finger tracing the outline of one of the butterfly in the middle of Harry’s chest. “When the people came to get my stuff, I umm, asked them to take your rainbow cardigan. Wanted something that smelled like you, so I didn’t feel so alone. Was the first thing I put on when I got out of my hospital gown.”

      She felt his body rumble with laughter and a kiss being pressed to her forehead. “I know. Saw Anna stash it inside the suitcase. I uh, I was the one who also put in one of my sweaters. Know how cold you always get.”

      She hid her smile against his collarbones. “Thank you. For thinking of me.”

      “ 'M always thinking of you… Will you knit me one though?”

      Y/N raised her eyebrow. “Knit you one?”

      “Yes. I know you knit –“

      “Everyone knits nowadays.”

      Harry drew himself back a bit, and she pushed away the matted down strands from his forehead, wiping away the sweat from underneath his green eyes as well. “Yes, but the point is – there’ll be a million other Gucci shirts and sweaters and cardigans. But I’d like to have one-of-a-kind made by you. So, I have something to sleep next to when you’re not next to me.”

      Y/N ran a finger along his jawline, biting away her grin. “It’ll probably have mistakes. I’m not that good at it. ‘M not a professional.”

      “Exactly.” Harry tilted her head up with a finger and their eyes met. “Which is why it’ll be perfect.”

      “The arms will most likely be different lengths in the end.”

      “Don’t worry, darling.” He pecked her lips before hugging her and not letting go. “It’s flawless for me.”

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