#and his physical inability to tell it without making jokes

[peatbogbody]

jongho: ateez final boss

more miscellaneous thoughts not particularly organized

he's like the ateez final boss. you think you understand everything, then...jongho.

left

the TRUE anti-idol. whereas mingi defies expected standards of existing as an idol out of...laziness? contempt for The System? genuine inability combined with lack of attempt to change?...the vibe i get from jongho is that he genuinely just DGAF. like he KNOWS what the expectations are, could follow them if he needed to (and does...occasionally), but usually is just like: "no". and no one dares to say anything to the contrary.

left right

i lied in my earlier entry on yeosang. though he's in the running for funniest ATEEZ member (imho), i think he is actually surpassed by choi jongho. this man is just hysterical. idk if it's just maknae privileges but he has the ability to put the other members in stitches the way no one else can. and often it's via jokes that are objectively really stupid? but he sells them with an insane talent for physical comedy (see: making mingi twerk-laugh at the end of wanteez ep 18, gamer judge from wanteez ep 16.) and great comedic timing. i would pay money to see a jongsang comedy hour.

also has a very endearing smile and laugh. and just a bit of grandpa energy that i appreciate and admire. i was dying watching logbook 76 where someonec walking around doing interviews in a green room and jongho's just chilling in a chair listening to jazz out loud on his phone.

he's unfortunately an overlooked member of the group even though he's legitimately extremely fucking hot. there may be many reasons... he's up against stiff competition among ATEEZ, tends to have more subdued stage presence (for the sake of vocal support and injury reasons), and just doesn't put quite as much energy into molding his appearance into that of ideal idol (=maintaining extreme thinness).

don't get me wrong! this boy can dance his ass off, he just doesn't make it his Thing as much as other members do

now obviously i can't see into the inner workings of his mind/ego, but at least as far as i can tell...he's pretty content with his lot? i think he knows he has other things he could be doing and probably will do after his idoling days are over and i wonder if he's just like "why would i risk potentially permanently messing up my body/psyche for the sake of something i can only do when i'm young?". this is all just conjecture and definitely projection but i really do wonder how he feels about it all.

anyways so obviously he's the vocal powerhouse. when i first started getting to know ateez, he was one of the very first members i was able to identify, namely as the "guy who goes 'whoa'" (notably in the whoooaaaaah.....baybaaaay meme). ATEEZ really couldn't have done it without him, especially in the early days when the vocal training had yet to really take off. at the same time, he got a lot of flak from haters about his vocal technique back then which was...harsh but tbh not necessarily entirely unwarranted. not to say his voice was bad...at all--far far from it. but he was young and still working on letting his sound resonate in a more relaxed way, so there are times especially in live performances where you can hear him "pressing" a bit on the belt notes. he was still the strongest singer and the group and carried them in a big way, for a reason.

and he's only gotten stronger since then and it's been really nice to see his sound mature with him and singing voices only continue to get better even into your late twenties and beyond so it's going to be SO exciting to keep up with him as he gets older!

what i'm interested to see is how his role shifts as the other members have all come into their own as singers. as line distributions have equaled out (they were almost perfectly equally proportioned when taking GH3 as a whole!), his cauterized role as The Main Singer has become less stable, since there are now members who have nearly equally strong voices AND more prominently feature in dance & performance aspects. (yes i'm looking hard at San but tbh there are several members who at this point would easily be considered The Main Vocalist in another group.) i'm hoping to examine this more closely when i do my vocal/musical analysis but so far it seems like now he's given the more virtuoso parts and of course the high belt notes. i have things to say about his voice and the types of parts he gets that i will save for the more in-depth posts.

in conclusion ateez would not be ateez without jongho and i'm constantly basking in his awe. thank you.

[thebreakfastgenie]

"And one time I drank furniture polish, right after that. I looked in the closet, I said 'I'm gonna kill myself.' And then there was bleach, and then there was... Pledge, I think. Furniture polish. I said 'well, which one's gonna taste better?' I was really thinking like this. I drank the Pledge... it kinda went right through me, I ended up just polishing my mother's furniture for a while."

[cowboysanddragons23]

While the Van der Linde gang is an outlaw gang, it operates more as a cult:

-Zero tolerance for criticism and questions: Dutch can't stand when someone questions or doubts him (ex. When John starts questioning him at Clemens Point, Dutch tells him that doubting means the end, aka weakness and forces him to say "Yes, Dutch." or when Uncle calls him out in a humorous manner, he threatens to kill him under the guise of following the joke).

-A belief that former followers are always wrong for leaving and there is never a legitimate reason to leave: Javier and Bill call John and Arthur traitors for abandoning them and Dutch, even though it was clear that Dutch was losing his sanity, he was going to get them all killed and both of them were trying to salvage what's left of the gang, a train of thought that lasts even after the gang disbanded.

-Lack of meaningful financial disclosure regarding money: Dutch constantly prattles about the fact that they need more money and at one point, he hid a box of money in one of the gang's hideouts.

-Abuse of members: While Dutch is not physically abusive of members, he is an abuser of the psychological variant (ex. When Molly raises legitimate concerns about how he is ignoring her and not paying her attention, he always dismisses her as delusional, even outright saying "I never met a woman with so many needs.")

-Absolute authoritarianism without accountability: If there is one thing that Dutch shows the most is his inability to take responsibility for his actions (ex. When he blames John for being the reason why the Saint Denis Bank heist went wrong, accusing him of being a rat, even though the main reason it went wrong was because Dutch was too reckless with his robberies to the trolley station and the boat, along with his kidnapping and killing of Angelo Bronte, the most powerful man of Saint Denis).

-Unreasonable fears about the outside world that involve evil conspiracies and persecution: Dutch fears civilization because it represents everything he hates and instills very irrational fears amongst them (ex. When Dutch tells John the law chases them because the gang represents everything they fear, yet ironically, after the gang disbands, Tilly has a happy life married to a lawyer and John has a normal life as a member of society).

-Cult of personality: The most obvious one. Dutch is seen like a father and a messiah amongst the gang (ex. In Red Dead Redemption, John tells Reyes that Dutch saved him, Bill and Javier.)

-Illegal and dangerous behaviour: The van der Linde are a gang of outlaws at first, but they ended up becoming the Wild West equivalent of domestic terrorists, with their attacks on the Cornwall Train, the Saint Denis Bank, a US Army Train....

-Charismatic leader: Dutch oozes charisma anytime he speaks, albeit of the superficial kind that has an iron hand on the people of his gang, which Kieran lampshades.

-Us VS Them mentality: Dutch enforced a very black and white view about their enemies, even outright admits so when he killed Bronte ("It is us or him.").

-Isolation and love-bombing: Once again, Molly is the biggest victim of this, with Dutch charming her into going with him and making her feel isolated on the gang, in order for her to depend on him and him alone.

-Time and energy: In the camp, you are expected to upgrade Dutch's tent first before upgrading the rest of the camp. And Dutch demands that money is put on the box, yet he himself never contributes to the box.

[pastelwitchling]

Alex was so tired. Tired enough that he’d had to leave work early because Eduardo Ramos had taken one look at him and said he didn’t want to see him for the rest of the week. Tired enough that he fell into bed the second he’d changed into sweats and hadn’t gotten up again. Tired enough that he’d left Michael’s text message from earlier on read without a response.

Tired enough that when he’d seen his husband next, it was after waking up from an unplanned nap. A bad sign, as Alex had trouble sleeping on the best of days. Drifting off without noticing did not bode well for where his head was. Michael seemed to realize that as Alex’s groggy vision cleared and he noted the concerned furrow of Michael’s brow.

His head fell back onto the pillow with a heaving sigh. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like a man in love?” Michael hummed, brushing Alex’s bangs back. “Sorry, I can’t physically do that.”

Alex chuckled sleepily. “You’re such a dork.”

“I’ll take it,” he shrugged a shoulder, and started to lay down beside him. He still smelled like the afternoon sun and sand from the junkyard and the delicious rain smell that made Alex’s head spin.

“Don’t,” Alex said, “I’m getting up.”

“Why?” Michael said, putting a hand on his waist and grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. “I’m tired too, we can take a nap together.”

Alex smiled, rubbing his eyes. “You’re not tired, you’re worried, and you shouldn’t be. I’ve just had one too many sleepless nights, that’s all.”

Michael pursed his lips, cupping Alex’s jaw and rubbing his thumb across the dark circle under Alex’s eye. Alex’s eyes fluttered to the warmth of his palm, and he turned into it, covering Michael’s hand with his own and breathing him in. He vaguely remembered Maria—what felt like forever ago now—making some joke about how Michael smelled, and he remembered wanting to snap then at her and feeling like he wasn’t allowed to. How did anyone not fall in love with Michael’s scent? He was the sky and earth and everything good about the world, he anchored Alex in a way nothing and no one else did.

“Can’t you just let me hold you anyway?” Michael murmured, his lips quirking with the faintest trace of amusement. “For my sake?”

Alex exhaled shakily, and crawled onto Michael’s lap, straddling him and wrapping his arms around his shoulders, burying his face in the crook of Michael’s neck and closing his eyes.

Michael seemed to sense that he couldn’t or wouldn’t speak, and just rubbed the space between his shoulder blades. Alex melted deeper into him, cuddling as close as he could until Michael was all he was breathing in, Michael’s arms around him and body underneath and around him all he could feel.

“Tighter,” he whispered, not daring to raise his voice any more than that. He didn’t know how else to put his exhaustion and its source into words. “Hold me tighter, baby, please.”

Michael seemed to have been waiting for permission, his grip on Alex almost bruising as he squeezed him to his body. A weak moan rose up the back of Alex’s throat; for the first time all day, he thought he could feel his own heartbeat, his body turning heavy enough that he was sure he was going to fall asleep again despite having just woken up.

“M’sorry,” he murmured, his eyes burning for reasons he couldn’t even fathom. This wasn’t the first time he got like this, when he felt like this inexplicable grief lingered just below the surface, waiting for the chance to show itself, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last. What bothered him though was the inability to talk about it, the inability to tell Michael just why he got like this. Sometimes, it felt like there was no reason for him to grieve, and sometimes it felt like there were too many reasons; too many to name, too many to think of, too many to bear.

“I hate this,” he groaned, brows pinched with the same headache that had been plaguing him all day. If he kept telling himself it was the sleepless nights, he might be able to endure it better. Except that here, in Michael’s arms, it was impossible to not feel safe enough to confess the mess in his head. “I hate . . . I hate this, Michael.”

“I know, baby,” Michael whispered against his ear, inhaling deeply as though he, too, couldn’t get enough of Alex’s scent. “It’s okay, I’m here. You’re okay.”

Alex was so, so tired. He closed his eyes and buried himself in Michael’s warmth, shoving his hands under Michael’s shirt to feel the heat of his skin and get as close as possible. He felt Michael shudder against him, and squirmed until there was no space left between them.

“You want to sleep now?”

Alex considered it. “Can you get something to eat first? I’ll feel bad if you don’t have dinner.”

Michael chuckled. “Sure, I’ll get something to eat.” Alex made no move to get off of him, and Michael made no move to ease his hold. “You want to come with me?”

Alex swallowed. “If you really want me to.”

He could feel Michael’s smile against his ear, Michael’s hand running down his spine. “I really want you to. I can’t eat if you’re not there. Please, baby, for my sake?”

“You’re such a dork,” Alex murmured, pushing his face into Michael’s neck and snuggling into him. “Fine, since you really need me.”

Michael chuckled. “I really do, baby. I really, always do.”

[ashesandhackles]

Chapter 25 to 30

- Ginny leaning against Harry's legs as they both make fun of Ron show both the comfortable physicality of the relationship, and ofc, the way Ginny feeds the joke to Harry's set up shows how in tune they are with each other.

- Hermione telling Harry off for distracting Ginny because she is supposed to be studying for exams: full older sister energy.

- ' the truth is you don't think a girl would have been clever enough' 'how can i have hung around with you for five years and not think girls are clever?' love this exchange between harry and hermione. XD

- The author loves to make Trelawney half right. The lightning struck tower card she keeps pulling is the title of the chapter Dumbledore dies.

- We have seen Hermione step back in face of Harry's anger, but the other suggestion that he is kind of frightening is when Harry angrily asks Trelawney to stay where she was (post hearing who told the prophecy to Voldemort), she looks alarmed.

- 'boiling with anger at Snape, his desire to do something risky had increased ten fold': this is Sirius' godson alright.

- I must say, it says a lot about Harry's newfound control that he wasnt willing to talk about Snape until Dumbledore pushed him. He has to pace the room to keep himself from shouting and knocking over things. This also speaks to the respect Harry has for Dumbledore and their newely repaired relationship post year 5.

- Harry being upset actually upsets Dumbledore enough to consider telling him of Snape's true loyalties. His rational mind wins over, the one that thinks about war - and he just ends the discussion with how he trusts Snape without offering the explanation.

- Harry struggling with the idea that there may be a time he has to leave Dumbledore and save himself - this boy is so traumatised that with adults he likes, he cant trust them to take care of themselves. A combination of abandonment issues and just inability to not do.

- Harry doesnt agree with Dumbledore: so he marshals Ron and Hermione, asks them to check Marauaders Map and rustle up DA coins, gives them Felix Felicis.

- "I'll be fine, I'm with Dumbledore" a parallel to "I'm not worried Harry, I'm with you"

- there is a lovely, haunting atmosphere from the get go, the black rocks and moonlit sea. You can picture it vividly. (especially when Dumbledore and Harry swim inside the cave)

- The speculation of what Tom Riddle did with the kids at the orphanage: dumbledore theorises it is the journey to the cave itself. (I had a pet theory that he used parseltongue around them, since he mentioned that snakes found him on the trip to countryside)

- Like the chamber of secrets which goes underground, under the lake, the set piece of HBP also goes under ground and in water. Voldemort's mother's locket lies in the basin, and that adds to archetypal imagery of this. (The author lays it thick with all word usages like 'penetrating' the cave defenses, 'cleaving' the silken water)

- 'Your blood is worth more than mine' - there is a double meaning here, of Dumbledore's theory of Voldemort resurrecting his living body with Harry's blood, and how it will tie Harry to life while containing the power to redeem Voldemort's soul.

- Harry's genuinely scared of the place: its silence is unnerving, darkness is oppressive and he can sense, like Dumbledore can, the presence of dark magic.

- 'Voldemort would never have expected a sixteen-year-old to reach this place' - this bites him when Regulus reaches this place with a house elf.

- 'he found the idea that there were bodies floating around them and beneath them horrible' Harry secretly freaked out by Voldemort's defenses. His fear is so palpable this chapter and is the only time he cannot think clearly in crisis. (forgetting about using fire against Inferi when Dumbledore told him earlier in chapter. No wonder he could not talk about this episode properly with Ron and Hermione)

- Dumbledore drinking the Drink of Despair is laden with Gethsemane imagery: Dumbledore drinks from the 'cup of judgement' and causes him intensely painful visions. (In his case, of his own sin - his responsibility and guilt in Ariana's death).

- 'Hating himself, repulsed by what he was doing' - this sentence is important because there is a parallel with the expression on Snape's face as he kills Dumbledore. Dumbledore's lost boys indeed.

- 'Don’t hurt them, don’t hurt them, please, please, it’s my fault, hurt me instead …’ - ah this really hits, knowing his backstory in DH.

- More gethsemane imagery: Dumbledore's first words when awoken "water" - "i thirst".

- 'but taller than any': JKR does not care about consistent heights, she only uses heights to show power in the scene/ power dynamic. The emphasis on Dumbledore looking pale but taller than Inferi is a pattern from whenever she draws attention to height.

- ‘I am not worried, Harry,’ said Dumbledore, his voice a little stronger despite the freezing water. ‘I am with you.’ --- Dumbledore transfers the mantle of power to Harry here and this hits :(

- Dumbledore means safety to Harry: the moment Dumbledore shows weakness, shows exhaustion, Harry feels horror and fear. A true child growing up and realising that safety blanket of theirs is gone.

- Madam Rosmerta has silk dressing gown embroidered with dragons. The style on this woman.

- would he be responsible, again, for the death of a friend? - Harry's feelings about Cedric and Sirius bleeding into this sentence.

- Draco disarms Dumbledore and becomes the master of the elder wand.

- Even though Draco disarms Dumbledore, you can tell he feels the weight of the situation where he dilly dallys what he needs to do. Dumbledore immediately clocks it when he smiles, "you're not killer"

- Shoving Montague into a cabinet, an echo of careless cruelty by Fred and George/ indifference by our heroes and how it sparks an idea for Malfoy. (JKR also makes a point of this by Ron lamenting that Malfoy bought Peruvian Instant Darkness powder from them)

- Malfoy who, bizarrely, seemed to draw courage and comfort from Dumbledore’s praise. - this boy definitely needs a father figure. He tried all year to prove himself an adult, and reveals, quite plainly, just how wounded he is from his father's imprisonment.

- Malfoy lurking around and getting ideas from Hermione: the enchanted coins (which is NEWT level magic and said to be impressive, Dramione shippers rejoice) + Filch not recognising potions.

- ‘Someone’s dead,’ said Malfoy and his voice seemed to go up an octave - a parallel from Harry's voice getting high in the cave - to indicate how absolutely terrified he is.

- The moment Dumbledore makes Draco feel safe and comforted with praise, he gets a bit of confidence/bravado even after Dumbledore offers him options. "I got here this far, didnt i? and you’re in my power … I’m the one with the wand … you’re at my mercy'

- The leader of the Order of phoenix reminds him who truly is at power, at all times: 'It is my mercy, and not yours, that matters now.' (meta to expand on chapter)

- Malfoy, who has just been about to take Dumbledore's options by lowering his wand, reveals that he didnt know that greyback was going to come and is absolutely terrfied of him. (You can see how much of the beginning of the book, where he threatens Borgin with greyback, was a performance)

- Fenrir greyback is hired for brutality, but is clearly thrown around by Death eaters using their wands, which enrages him.

- ' there was revulsion and hatred etched in the harsh lines of his face.' - parallel to harry's revulsion and hatred when he was feeding Dumbledore the drink. It affected harry enough that he doesnt talk about it with Ron and hermione - it is the same with Snape in DH. The death of Dumbledore at his hand has a profound effect on him.

- These three set of chapters cannot be rivalled in their intensity. From the eerieness of the cave, to the tower scene and now the climax.

- the entire lead up to Harry running after Snape, pushing people out of the way, having no time to answer Ginny, pushing off Greyback, all of this builds up to the moment Harry meets Snape and SO MUCH is going on in this scene. Harry uses crucio and incarcerous against Snape, but that doesnt affect him. But the moment harry uses his own spells against him - sectumsempra, Snape's face changes into rage, even as he deflects the spell.

- When he tries to use Levicorpus, Snape screams and pushes Harry magically backwards- "No Potter!": Levicorpus specifically has been used against him, as we see in SWM.

- '‘Kill me, then,’ panted Harry, who felt no fear at all, but only rage and contempt. ‘Kill me like you killed him, you coward –’ : There is an interesting ambiguity in this scene, where Harry thinks of himself as wandless and defenceless as Dumbledore, and they were just talking about James and harry knows of Snape's complicity in the prophecy. So 'kill me like you killed him' - is Harry damning him as killer of both Dumbledore and his own father (and by extension, Lily).

- ‘DON’T –’ screamed Snape, and his face was suddenly demented, inhuman, as though he was in as much pain as the yelping, howling dog stuck in the burning house behind them, ‘– CALL ME COWARD!’ - Snape's face is referried to as demented/inhuman/animal like in DH when he is mourning Lily in Dumbledore;s office, when he wishes he could be dead.

- Harry labeling his as a coward after Snape does what is possibly an act of self immolation and sacrifice for the cause is also one of the reasons Harry calls him 'bravest man I never knew'. It is a reference to this scene.

- Snape hits harry magically in this scene (similar to how Remus hits Harry magically in Deathly hallows after being called a coward). Also a scene where James Potter is invoked.

- Harry trying to feel if fang is alive :(

-the sequence of hagrid and harry approaching Dumbledore's body is so beautifully written

- Love how sensory aspects are very integral part of Harry-Ginny relationship: where Harry can obey the pressure of Ginny's hand without really thinking about it, he is so numb that he recognises whose hand he was holding by the trace of her scent in the air. There is also a reference to his awareness of her physicality: 'he could feel Ginny move beside him' when she was watching Fleur.

- Ron and Ginny's reactions to Bill - Ginny who is stoically telling Harry what they have to do, clearly she is trying to keep it together but her voice trembles. And Ron just staring at Bill hoping by looking at him he can turn back time.

- The last of Remus' safety blankets from his childhood, the father figure, is gone and Remus loses control. Harry is so attuned to the fact that Remus maintains a performance of control that he looks away in the moment of his vulnerability. Not only is Remus grieving, he allows himself to question Dumbledore's judgement ('and dumbledore believed that?') - something he berated Harry for doing earlier in the book.

- Fawkes' lament. ❤️ In keeping with allegory of the books, Fawkes song offers comfort to Dumbledore's mourners/believers. (Meta for reference)

- Dumbledore's death (and Snape killing him) cracked McGonagall's facade. She is also extremely vulnerable this chapter: expressing grief and confusion and horror.

- Draco buying Instant Darkness Powder from Fred and George lol. And also the Vanishing Cabinets idea from the Montague incident. I love how the plot of this book relies on actions of Fred and George. Complacency is bad, folks.

- Who says Harry isnt smart? He is literally the only one among the Order who posits that you need a Dark Mark to cross the barrier the Death Eaters created towards the Astronomy Tower.

- Molly kissing Bill's bloodied face got me:(

- Ginny doesnt trust Fleur at all, the way she is intently watching Fleur, expecting her to break her brother's heart XD (she is not alone in feeling that - both she and Hermione exchange startled looks when Molly and Fleur hug)

- "I'm good looking enough for both of us" is iconic. I love that Molly offers Fleur her version of an apology for misjudging who she thought she is - the offer of getting goblin made tiara fromn Aunt Muriel.

- also Bill is so cool that even Aunt Muriel likes him.

- So my feelings about the hospital scene is less romantic and more illustrative of dysfunction of Remus and Tonks and the problems that will follow them in Deathly Hallows. It's a band aid rather than a fix - because the scene shows them both ignoring what the other needs. Remus is clearly going through a grief breakdown - his own last protector is dead. Tonks, after a year of being stonewalled by him and dismissed, is desperate enough to barrel through at the time to be taken seriously. ( i am going to rec @evesaintyves work here which i think captures the underlying tension of the scene )

- 'dumbledore would have been happier than anybody to think there was little more love in the world' clearly, minerva, you have not heard of the great grindeldore break up.

- Love that Harry is at stage where he is attending staff meeting and giving his inputs lol.

- The chapter ends with Harry's awareness that Fawkes had stopped singing and had left the school. The song adds to the atmosphere of the chapter, since Harry hears it in corridors as well.

- Once Seamus' loyalty is won (to Harry, to Dumbledore), he is in for keeps. Given last year where he disbelieved Harry and Dumbledore on his mother's words, he is now having shouting matches in Great Hall so he can attend Dumbledore's funeral.

- Maxime x Hagrid going strong I see. I really like the fact that Maxime did a mission for Dumbledore (as part of his envoys for giants when she was clearly uncomfortable with her heritage in beginning of GOF) and she attends his funeral and is devastated enough to need Hagrid's comfort. There is a very interesting story here.

- Hour by hour Harry puts off breaking up with Ginny, and hour by hour, she is aware that it is happening (' i knew this would happen') and the implication that she hasn't been sleeping well since whatever happened.

- Fleur finding a silver lining because Bill now likes raw steaks: "British overcook their meat." XD

- "Do you have to rub it in Hermione? How do you think I feel about that now?" XD forever endeared Harry just expresses his irritation now instead of avoiding her. (also Hermione trying to take away some of the self blame Harry had by pointing out the book with teenage Snape's spells is not 'evil' , just someone with nasty sense of humour)

- Harry drawing parallels between Voldemort and Snape, something he will later on include himself in DH. 'The abandoned boys'.

- Pince x Filch, lesssgoo.

- Hagrid as the one who carries Dumbledore and Harry's seemingly dead bodies. The carrier of those moving between worlds.

- 'the last and the greatest of his protectors had died':(

- the imagery of smoke phoenix flying joyfully into the blue as Dumbledore's body is encased within a tomb though:(

- Harry looking away from Ginny earlier in the scene when he cried about Dumbledore, Ginny looking away from him when she admits that she never really gave up on him. The way they both have problems with being vulnerable.

- The way Ginny lets him go the moment he says, "I care.. what if this was your funeral and it was my fault". Ginny lets him go to ease his own guilt and pain.

- Harry repeating "What do you want?" at scrimgeour as he tries and fails to give expressions of sorrow xD

- Invoking the God image of Dumbledore early in series - "he will only be gone from school when none here are loyal to him". Also callback to CoS where Dumbledore says this, which this book mirrors.

- - Both hermione and ginny cottoning on to Harry's feelings: of his focus on destroying Voldemort and how she guessed he won't come back.

- Harry - Ron and Hermione under the beech tree where they had happier times :heart: also the beech tree Marauders sat under in the memory. "We'll be there Harry," Ron and Hermione's declaration here really moves me. Especially Hermione calling back to Philosopher's Stone: "You've said to us once before - that there was time to turn back if we wanted to. We've had time, haven't we?"

- golden day of peace to enjoy with Ron and Hermione T_T

[deltadarlingf1]

Alright! We need a Classic F1 counterpart to the Boy Band prompt, so let's do:

Classic F1 Drivers as a Motown Group

Quick disclaimer: 1. We're doing this irrespective of age and 2. This one is more of a narrative for funsies. We love a writing challenge.

Bonus points for name suggestions for the group.

1. The Label Owner

Between balancing several acts, managing stakeholders, and cutting deals, this man's job is essentially herding feral cats all day- but he's definitely the man to do it. He's known for being blunt and, at times, cutthroat, but never unfair. He knows talent when he sees it and has been known to give the underdog a chance.

2. The Group Manager

If the label owner is herding feral cats, our manager is wrangling rabid dogs. Between getting our lead talent out of hot water, negotiating pay, and booking venues, this man is TIRED. But he loves it- after all, it wasn't long ago that he was the one on stage.

3. The Scorned Talent

This man was undoubtedly talented- he had the voice, the had the moves, but his prickly off-stage demeanor and inability to keep things fresh ultimately lead to his fall from grace. After one-too-many times being called a "one-trick-pony" in the press, followed by a nasty physical altercation with the manager, the label made the call to let him go and replace him with a younger lead singer. He would spend the rest of his career as a washed-up has-been telling anyone who'd listen what a "fraud" his replacement was.

3. The Band Leader

When the manager is out, he's our guy making sure rehearsal runs smoothly, setting up for the show, and dragging the singer's ass out of bed when he "oversleeps" (is hungover). While he loves the band and plays a mean sax on stage, he spends the majority of his time learning the business: As life on the road wears on him, he prepares to transition into being a label executive so he can spend more time at home with his wife and son.

4. The Backup Singers

These three lovable idiots are the glue holding it all together. When things get tense between our pianist and vocalist, they're the ones cracking jokes and keeping it light. They also keep butts in seats with their playful on-stage antics and smooth moves.

5. The Pianist

Fans of our group will spend a lifetime arguing who really made the music what it was: the pianist or the singer? Our pianist has been heralded as a "musician's musician" with an ear like no other: He knows what the melody needs, how the rhythm should feel, how to make the listeners dance one minute and cry the next. Unfortunately, between his constant inputs and the label pulling him in to help other acts, he and the singer are at odds constantly. The number of fights those two had and threats to leave if the other stayed cannot be counted. Still, his legend lives on and many acts that followed reference him as inspiration.

6. The Lead Singer

Where our scorned talent missed the mark? This. Kid. HAD it. The moves, the voice, the winning smile, the stage presence- he had it all. Ladies bought the vinyls because they wanted him. Men bought them because they wanted to BE him. He kept every single show packed and never once put on a boring performance.

He wasn't without controversy though: He was a bit of a loose cannon, known to party a bit too hard after shows, drink too much, and get caught up with notable women who may or may not have been married. If he was at constant odds with the pianist over control of the music, then he was certainly always playing jumprope with their manager's last damn nerve. Several times our manager begged the label executives to get rid of the kid or keep him in line, but with our singer churning out hit after hit, there was nothing for it. There was no end in sight for our singer's stardom.

Until the end came. When he didn't make it to rehearsals, the band joked that maybe he'd run finally run off with some new blonde for good. When the news that night rolled footage of what was left of the plane he'd boarded, silence befell them all. It was all the nation could talk about for days- he left a hole in the music scene that no one could ever hope to fill.

BONUS: The Critic

A constant thorn in the side for our group. This man seemed to know EVERYTHING about what went on behind the scenes with the act. Scathing reports and salacious details of our singer's late-night antics poured from his pen, baffling the man. Multiple times our singer called out the critic by name in interviews, calling him a hack and a liar. It wouldn't be until years later that our label owner finally confessed to serving up secrets to the critic because, well, all press is good press.

Still, no one could write the soul of our singer better than the critic, and when the tragedy came it was the critic that wrote a memorial that could move even the surliest of men to tears. In every documentary and exposé of our group that followed, the critic and his ongoing battle with the singer were always mentioned- the two's stories forever intertwined in legend.

[furhelden]

no one asked but here’s the worst traits i think my (original) muses have.

prosperina is untrusting to the point of self-sabotage and destruction. they refuse to let new people in, and put up fake masks and layers to make herself seem more dislikable than she really is in an effort to keep people from spending time with her. she’d rather suffer alone than ask for help which leaves her vulnerable, physically and emotionally.

margo is too single minded. too devoted to the idea of a single end goal that they will make the means justify the end. whatever it takes to get there, she doesn’t care. they won’t lose sleep about forcing something to happen so they can make their goals happen. she’s not above getting from a to b with slaughter and carnage, anything can be shaped to justify the needed narrative.

garrett can’t take anything seriously until it’s too late. he’s too quick to joke, always wants to try and laugh his way through issues that should be talked out. prefers to bury down his emotions under layers of laughter until it’s become too late and the issue is now a giant problem.

marya will always find a way to blame herself. everything that goes wrong needs to be her fault because she can’t tell people they’ve hurt her or done something wrong. she’s self-victimising but also refuses to acknowledge herself as a victim of actual parental neglect. she worries too much about everything to make up for her siblings not worry about anything.

anastasie lives in shades of regret. she’s forever in the “what if i had done…”, “maybe i should have…”, and struggles with the concept of being a leader because she’s always been a follower. her inability to make choices without excessively consulting and considering every single choice leads time to run out, and constantly avoid tasks that are important. it makes her a poor leader and a worse decision maker when she insists upon having every scrap of information to make even the simplest choice.

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

just wrote like a billion paragraphs on how I write c!tommy’s mentol illnesses whoops

Autism: While chaotic, Tommy does best in structured environments to a degree, needing some sort of routine to function. He's easily attached to comfort items and requires them for his day-to-day life. He struggles with social skills, primarily indicated by his inability to tell when he should stop joking around- he’s learnt surprising emotional intelligence to get around that. In general, he struggles to function on his own despite being fairly intelligent and very vocal, and as such latches into others for support. He’s also got extreme sensory issues, to the point he can only wear clothes he sews himself.

ADHD: Tommy has extremely severe ADHD, to the point it’s debilitating in everyday life. He struggles to stick to one train of thought, and often completely forgets what he’s doing, leading to him often neglecting his own needs (though he also has… other reasons for that). He requires constant stimulation, and boredom is physically painful to him. He’s always moving around and doing something, and he struggles to wait even for a few minutes. His struggles to stay organised are another reason he tends to rely on being a follower to others.

OCD: Tommy struggles with moral scrupulousity of a very religious type, and deeply fears he is a sinner. He spends a lot of his free time in prayer to the Primes he loves, and obsessively honours them in every way he can. He gets intrusive thoughts about sin- especially those he was forced to commit- and he believes these thoughts are the reason his afterlife was so hellish, and has many compulsions he feels he needs to honour to punish himself for being so sinful.

BPD: Tommy has very wild changes in mood frequently, something he struggles to control and which leads to him making rash decisions. He quickly feels abandoned, and stews in the self loathing it causes. He’s desperate for any sort of affection and attention, even if it's warped and abusive. He tends to view people either as wonderful or as monsters, and struggles with grey areas.

Psychosis: Tommy struggles with hallucinations and delusions on a day to day basis. Generally, he mostly grapples with delusions- mostly assigning meaning to objects and people in a very literal sense- and delusions of persecution, and the hallucinations mostly affect him when he’s dealing with extreme stress. He struggles to verbalise and understand his thoughts, and often lashes out.

PTSD: Tommy is hyper vigilant due to trauma and struggles to feel relaxed. Even on a good day, he's always checking the walls and making sure he has a knife in reaching distance. The smallest thing can trigger a flashback, even things he once loved, and as such he's frequently withdrawn and sullen despite usually being outgoing and adventurous. He has severe insomnia, and often doesn’t sleep until his body physically cannot stand it anymore.

Depression: Tommy has severe suicidal ideation and frequently wishes he could die- only his knowledge of the nothingness after death and more importantly the fact he'll inevitably be revived keep him from ending his own life most days. He very frequently self harms, usually by simply letting the elements get to him. He also goes days at a time without eating, both to punish himself and as a method of self harm. He believes himself to be a burden on everyone he loves and that the world would be a better place if he never existed.

Anxiety: Tommy has frequent panic attacks, often so severe he's incoherent (these cause him deep embarrassment). He worries about every action he takes, and most of those he doesn’t. His most frequently worry is about his future- while this is influenced by being threatened with multiple horrific fates, this is something he’s always done. He’s also incredibly anxious his friends don’t love him anymore whenever they’re not as obsessively clingy as him- times like this tend to draw him back into self-destrucive behaviour.

[lightcreators]

His  way  of  making  humor  had  a  tendency  to  accidentally  hurt.  More  than  once,  some  time  ago,  Solace's  bright  head  had  found  himself  in  a  palpable  inability  to  speak,  not  knowing  what  to  say  to  this  kind  of  playfulness  he  was  expressing.  As  such,  he  himself  raised  his  eyebrows  at  the  movement  on  his  heart.  It  was  a  joke  in  most  part  ---  after  all,  he  had  reached  a  point  where  if  he  could  actually  control  a  booygeman  from  most  famous  horror  movies,  he  would.  Not  sure  his  father  was  inclined  to  respond  positively  to  his  request,  but  there  were  still  a  few  things  to  discover  inside  realm  of  Hypnos.  To  fix  the  situation,  he  decided  to  bounce  back  on  her  next  sentences,  in  which  amusement  inside  his  expression  inscreased.  ❝  ---  and  I  will  have  a  conversation  with  their  ghosts  once  on  the  other  side,  to  help  them  better  experience  the  transition for been more easier for them ~  ❞  Thre  was  nothing  he  could  playfully  bring  upon  the  killing  part.  He  could,  he  would  ---  Considering  he  has  been  closed  another  time  of  Thanatos,  there  was  an  emotional  distance  he  pulled,  and  an  hanging  silence.  If  he  could  blaming  to  have  experienced  Thanatos  inside  of  him  for  a  long  while,  though  it  was  barely  an  impression  to  be  dead  inside,  surviving  an  physical  impression  ---  Besides,  his  sulking  behavior  regarding  Bianca's  death  didn't  stay  forgotten  in  his  mind  :  he  had  mostly  complained  inwardly.

In  a  more  fun  way,  he  was  now  a  seasoned  guide  to  the  Underworld.

❝  Ah,  that  was  partly  a  joke  on  my  part.  ❞  Anyway,  with  his  current  consideration,  he  could  just  be  more  frightening  than  he  already  was,  there  would  just  be  a  wind  of  terror  around  his  presence.  ❝  I  don't  know  how  I'm  supposed  to  relax  after  that.  ❞  He  confessed  yet  afterwards  an  betraying  sigh,  in  which  silent  admiration  he  was  making  stayed  an  nice  distraction.  There  was  never  enough  time  to  process  what  he  experienced as  miseries.  What  today  would  be  different  ?  At  the  confession  concerning  her  responsabilities,  simply  silent  was  answered  in  return.  Complicated  to  act  as  the  manager  when  he  was  trapped  in  a  jar.  ❝  Sorry  for  giving  you  my  job  since  I  couldn't  be  there.  I'll  go  tell  them  that  their  manager  spent  a  vacation  in  an  jar,  so  couldn't  manage,  because  too  busy  not  to  become  a  permanent  manager.  ❞

Seeing  her  eat  didn't  particularity  giving  him  same  desire,  just  an  little  remembrance  he  would  need  at  some  point,  since  his  physical  body  would  remain  horribly  weaken  than  his  already  weak  body  he  had.  Mere  fact  that  she  has  been  worried  about  him  dying  need  to  reach  his  brain,  as  he  didn't  wanted  to  dismissing  her  feelings  on  the  topic.  He  attempted  what  he  could  concerning  sending  these  dreamy  messages,  hence,  reached  not  put  too  much  blame  upon  himself.  ❝  I  attempted  of  my  side  to  warn  them  but  well  ---  ❞   Complicated  when  you  were  dying.  There  was  an  appreciation  about  how  he  did  listened  advices.  ❝  If  I  had  wanted  to  die,  I  would  have  done  it  alone  in  my  corner,  without  being  tortured,  and  without  seeing  horrors  for  the  rest  of  my  life  that  will  haunt  me.  ❞ Seriouness  finally  admitted.  ❝  Persephone's  tolerance  of  my  presence  saved  my  life.  It  was  a  great  opportunity  to  get  rid  of  me  if  she  wanted,  I  would  have  died  at  the  speed  of  a  rocket  in  that  jar  otherwise.  I  wanted  to  do  what  had  to  be  done  regarding  the  Doors  of  Death,  it  wasn't  part  of  my  planned  destinations,  Tartarus.  They  might  remember  me  if  I  return  to  that  destination  one  day.  ❞   There  was  another  moment  of  silence,  as  he  considered  that  last  sentence.  ❝  I  don't  recommend  it.  Really,  it's  better  that  the  already  tortured  little  brother  was  blessed  by  this  experience rather than eldest finding herself alone.  ❞  He  hesitated  once  again  to  speak  of  Deimos,  when  his  eyes  betrayed  that.  ❝  Despite  the  darkest  of  shadows,  there  can  always  be  one  that  wants  to  keep  you  alive.  ❞ 

she places a hand over her heart, gasping at his accusations. "firstly - i don't kill people. i will, however, reap their souls when i do finally feel the kiss of death." although thanatos often joked that he'd just open the earth and have her fall into his arms. her death wouldn't be something to mourn as she continued to play her active part within the underworld - not separated from those she loves for the rest of eternity. elysium didn't have the same appeal to her as it did to other demigods. the idea of rebirth didn't sit right with her - especially if she didn't have the solid answer that she'd have the same father - or even persephone as her godly mother. that would cause a greater harm to her soul.

"would you relax, nico? it was a joke." elizabeth shakes her head, taking another bite, extra pomegranate seeds upon her spoon. "you weren't the only one who was going insane at the time. i was busy trying to keep the threads of the underworld in balance while all the immortals around me were dealing with split personalities!"

she stops to take a long drink of her black coffee. swallowing before continuing, "who do you think was sending percy and hazel the vision dreams? yours were dying out before they even reached meet. i felt you dying and that freaked me out even more. i'm just thankful you listened when you were told about the pomegranate seeds. the sacred fruit of persephone saved your life after i explicitly told you to stay away from tartarus. i'd rather it had been me in that jar than you have gone through that."

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Remember You Even When I Don't (2)

Summary: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement.

Words: 3.3K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Reader (no use of y/n, so can be read as unnamed oc)

Warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss, language.

Notes: The response to part one was so overwhelming in all of the best ways. I'm so glad that so many people enjoyed it! Please let me know your thoughts for part two as well!

This was inspired by a one shot by the lovely @roosterforme and would not exist without her assistance. If you haven't read any of her stuff, please check out her masterlist - you won't be disappointed!

Part One

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The pain medication kept him knocked out for most of the night. He remembers waking up a few times, blinded by pain or uncomfortable in the small hospital bed, but you were there every time. You slept curled in the chair beside him, wrapped in that green sweatshirt. Once, when the pain was what jolted him awake, you woke too. You hit the button for a nurse and smoothed his hair back on his forehead, his skin sticky with sweat despite the coolness of the hospital room. 

“You’re okay,” you murmured to him, shushing him gently when he groaned again. “It’ll go away in a minute, you’re okay.” 

As the nurses came in and administered him more medication, you stayed right there beside him. Your hand was still in his hair when he fell back into a drug-induced sleep.

Still, though, when he roused to consciousness with the sun shining in through the slightly raised blinds, he wondered if it was all a fever dream and if you ever existed to begin with. He was almost afraid to open his eyes. Yesterday was the only memory he had of you. There was still nothing before that, except for how you made him feel. While confusing, there was no way that a dream could make that up. He opened his eyes slowly, and there you were. 

You were leaning back in your chair, watching the tv that was playing on mute in front of his bed. He couldn’t tell if you were reading along with the subtitles you had turned on in an effort not to wake him up or simply watching the moving images. You held what looked like a large cup of iced coffee in your hands. 

You were just as breathtaking as he remembered from yesterday. His heart did the same flip that it did when he first laid bleary eyes on you.

He didn’t get to ponder you for too long before you turned your head in his direction and noticed that he was awake. Your eyes widened a fraction and you stared at one another for a moment, and Bradley thought it would be easy to get lost in your gaze.

“Hi,” you whispered, breaking the silence. 

“Hi,” he spoke back, his voice rough, but relieved. You were real after all. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Less like I got hit by a train and more like I got hit by a truck, so I guess better.” 

“Technically, you were hit by a plane. I imagine a train is close enough though.” 

It took him a second to get the joke, but the laugh he let out felt good. Mentally, at least. Physically, it hurt his ribs. But you were making jokes with him and he’d take that over you crying again. 

“Not many people can say that, huh?”

“No,” she agreed with a shake of her head, “but you’ve always been a special one, Bradley Bradshaw.”

Blushing was an unfamiliar feeling. So unfamiliar that he didn’t realize that’s what he was doing at first, but hearing you say his full name and compliment him, because he knew that’s what you meant, made his face feel warm and his heart race. Your eyes flicked to his heart monitor, but you didn’t comment on it. 

“I asked your nurse if you could change since you might be more comfortable in your own clothes,” you said instead, motioning to a duffel bag that was set on the counter on the other side of his room that he didn’t notice before. “She said it’s fine, so I had a few things brought for you this morning. If you want.”

“That sounds great,” he said, because it did. He hated hospital gowns. He hated hospitals, period. “Any chance I can take a shower?” 

“No, I’m sorry. But um…they’re going to take you for more testing in a little bit, probably, and they said a nurse will help you clean up and change afterward.” 

You looked uncomfortable as you said the words, and he wanted to ask you why, but you pushed on before he could. 

“There should be a few pairs of sweatpants and shirts to choose from. If you don’t like anything in there I can get something else.”

“I’m sure whatever is in there will be fine,” he said softly. You were nervous, he could tell. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” you nodded in response. 

There was a tension settling in the room that he didn’t quite enjoy. He supposed it was unavoidable, all things considered. Despite it, though, you remained in the seat beside his bed, almost within reach of him. Your hair was down this morning, one side tucked behind your ear to keep it out of your face. You were still wearing the Eagles sweatshirt that was too big for you. Your eyes were tired, and he wondered if you got anything more than restless fits of sleep last night.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up last night,” he started, unable to take the silence anymore. Your eyes snapped up to him. 

“It’s alright,” you insisted, sending him a small smile that had his heart fluttering again. “This chair is actually more comfortable than it looks.” 

He sincerely doubted that, but he didn’t call you out on it. You took a sip of your drink, barely putting it down before bringing it back to your lips for another. The ice rattled in the cup as it moved. 

He tried to make out what it was that you were drinking. Coffee, obviously, but he found himself curious as to what your typical order was. Were you just a cream and sugar kind of girl, or did you like flavors? Based on how long the order on the white sticker was, he guessed the latter. He couldn’t quite read what it said, but he could see the name above it. His eyebrows pulled together, causing an ache behind his eyes that he tried to push away. He remembered you saying that you had had a few things brought for him, not that you retrieved yourself, so he assumed whoever went to the home the two of you shared is who stopped and got your morning beverage, as well. For some reason, he felt a furling in his stomach. It was irrational, he knew, but the thought of another man doing these things for you, for him, made him feel something akin to jealousy. That wasn’t fair, he knew. He didn’t know your life or your family or even you. 

But he felt something for you. He didn’t exactly know what, but a connection that he’s never felt before existed between the two of you like an invisible string. It was one he found himself wanting to tug on and follow and see where it led. 

The unknown was intimidating to him, and that’s what this was. Everything about this was unknown.

“Who’s Pete?” he asked before he could stop himself. He hoped his voice didn’t come out as insecure as he felt. 

“What?” you asked, eyes widening and back straightening. He nodded toward the near empty coffee cup in your hand where the name was written above your order on the plastic. Your shoulders dropped and then tensed, which confused him even more. 

“Ah.” 

“I assume that’s who went and got my clothes? I’m sorry, I just don’t recognize the name.” He was trying, so hard, to pull something up to the front of his mind, but he couldn’t. He didn’t remember being close with anyone with that name. Maybe it was a family member of yours that he had forgotten along with you, but something told him that wasn’t the case. You wouldn’t be looking at him the way you currently are if it was a forgotten father or brother-in-law. You were eyeing him like you were uncomfortable in his presence, like you were scared of what to say to him. It was the first time he saw a look like this from you and he didn’t like it. There was something there, something about this name and him asking that unsettled you.  

A knock on the door interrupted the potential conversation, and now Bradley felt frustrated. He had so many questions and he knew the answers resided with you. One of the doctors from the previous day, Dr. Anderson, according to his coat, stepped in, offering a good morning as he scrolled on the tablet in his hand. 

“How are you feeling today, Lieutenant Commander?” 

The title was still unfamiliar to him. His gut reaction was to correct him, but the last time he did that, he found out he was missing four years of his life and an entire wife, so he refrained. 

“I’ve been better.” 

“Have you remembered anything overnight?” 

He saw you flinch out of the corner of his eye and the ice rattled in that damn coffee cup that he still had so many questions about due to your grip tightening for just a moment. 

He clenched his jaw and gave a single shake of his head. “No sir.” 

Dr. Anderson set the tablet on the foot of his bed and braced his hands against the plasti footboard, giving him the ability to look at him straight on. “That’s not uncommon,” he assured, though Bradley felt nothing of the sort. 

The white coat looked back and forth from the two of you a few times, and Bradley didn’t like the look he had in his eyes when they settled on you for a longer moment before looking back at him again. 

“It’s come to my attention that the time you're missing means you may not remember being married. Is that correct?” 

Bradley gritted his teeth, but nodded. 

“I see.” The doctor seemed to weigh his words for a moment before he spoke again. “Perhaps, Lieutenant Commander, it may be best if we speak in private?”

A flash of anger flared through him at the suggestion. You startled next to him, sucking in a breath as your eyes widened at the words. That protective instinct he had in regards to you had a glare hardening on his face. “Excuse me?” 

“Bradley…” your voice was gentle, soft, and it had him settling just a little bit, but his eyes remained on the man in front of him. 

“I mean no offense. I want to do whatever I can here to help you get on the road to recovery, but in order to properly treat you, you need to be completely honest with how you’re feeling and your injuries. Having someone who is currently a stranger to you could very well impact that. Would you be more comfortable if she wasn’t in the room with us?” 

“She is sitting right there, and no, Doctor, I would not be more comfortable if she weren’t.” 

“Lieute-” 

“She’s staying.” 

Dr. Anderson sighed, which grated on Bradley’s already fraying nerves, but nodded. He proceeded to ask him question after question, inquiring about double vision and how bad his head hurt and if he was having any trouble with the range of motion in his neck. They went over all of his injuries again and what his path to healing realistically looked like. His body should heal with no problem, but his head was trickier. 

“Unfortunately, there’s no cure for amnesia,” he was told when he asked, and he hated how nonchalant the doctor was when delivering that news. “The brain is the most complex organ in the human body. You sustained a significant amount of trauma to it that would have been considerably worse if your helmet didn’t take a brunt of the hit. Quite frankly, you’re lucky to be alive, Lieutenant Commander.” 

Bradley couldn’t fight the urge to look over at you. You were already staring back at him. You tried your best to smile at him, but he could see the pain in your eyes. He hated that he was the one who put it there. It was overwhelming how much causing you hurt,hurt him in return. 

Another knock at the door sounded and Dr. Anderson waved in the nurse standing in the doorway with a wheelchair in front of her. 

“I want to take you down for another scan to check on the swelling you had. If it’s gone down more overnight, we’ll be able to get a better view of any damage that perhaps we didn’t see before. We’ll grab some updated blood work and do a few other cognitive tests while we’re at it. Jackie will get you all squared away and wheel you down there.”

He grabbed his tablet off of the bed where he set it earlier, giving Bradley a nod that he returned. Instead of immediately turning and exiting, though, he turned to you. 

“Mrs. Bradshaw? Could I have a word outside?”

Hearing you be called Mrs. Bradshaw nearly took the breath out of him. But no, Bradley thought, he didn’t like that idea. Not with the way the doctor had looked and spoken to you a few minutes ago. But the older nurse was already speaking to him, asking questions of her own while unhooking some of the machines he was connected to. You stood up, following Dr. Anderson out of the room without a word. Bradley couldn’t do anything more than watch you leave. The door shut behind you and he immediately felt on edge.

“It’s good to see you awake, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw,” she commented, helping him slowly swing his legs off the bed after she had raised him more upright and lowered the safety bars.  She held onto his arm and waist as he transferred from the bed to the wheelchair she had placed directly beside it. His ribs ached with the motion and his vision blurred as his head pounded. It took him a moment to catch his breath and he found himself having to then breathe through a wave of nausea. 

You walked back into the room right as the nurse was unlocking the wheels of the chair. Your face was desperately trying to remain neutral. 

“What?” he asked, the concern washing over him taking him by surprise. 

“Nothing,” you insisted. But Bradley knew you were lying. Your eyes gave you away. They were so expressive that he felt like he could almost see right through you. He knew you were upset and something he didn’t understand twisted in his chest that you were trying to keep that from him. 

“I’ll get him back to you in an hour or two, dear,” Nurse Jackie smiled at you as she wheeled him out of the room. 

Bradley was so tired of being cut off when he wanted to speak with you.

“You’ve certainly been a popular patient,” Nurse Jackie informed him as they waited for the elevator. 

“Ma’am?”

“That wife of yours has barely left your room, the poor thing. I think the furthest she’s gone is the cafeteria, and that’s only when she was coerced into doing it by your friends, and even then not for long.” 

“There’s been others here?” he asked, confused. 

“Oh, of course. There’s been a carousel of visitors in this room with usually one or two more in the waiting room. The two of you don’t lack love or support, I’ll tell you that.” 

That surprised him. He racked his brain trying to figure out who she could be referring to, but came up short once again. Bradley wasn’t close to many people. Making connections with people was hard in this line of work. He wasn’t usually in one place for long enough to have something genuine, friendships or otherwise. It was a sacrifice he was always content with, made easier by the fact that he bore so many emotional scars from all the love he lost early on in his life. He was man enough to admit that.

But yet here he was, being told that he apparently had so many people he was close to that his hospital room had become a revolving door. He had a hard time believing it.

The thought stuck with him when they got on the elevator and made their way down several floors. He went through the motions of it all, doing what was asked of him and answering all the questions he could, but his mind was elsewhere, searching for something he didn’t know. 

The machines scanning his brain made him feel claustrophobic. It was unfamiliar to him because he spent his days locked in the cockpit of a single-seater jet, yet he felt like he was aware of every inch of himself as he tried to lay as still as possible. He was becoming uncomfortable in his skin and feeling things he never did before. This wasn’t him and he couldn’t make sense of it. 

By the time he was being wheeled back down the hallway to his room, three hours later, the thoughts had festered so much that they etched a tight scowl on his face. The testing should have only taken an hour at most, which irritated him further. 

It didn’t help that you were on the phone with someone when the Nurse, a different one whose name he couldn’t remember, pushed him through the door, only to quickly hang up once you spotted him. 

“How’d it go?” you asked, and the nurse was answering for him before he could even process the question.  

“Just fine, ma’am.” The response was curt. Bradley watched your face fall at the tone the nurse gave you, lacking the kindness that Nurse Jackie had when she took him away. 

“I’m going to help him get cleaned up and changed,” the nurse continued, stopping him near the bed and locking the wheels on the chair so that it wouldn’t move. 

You cleared your throat and nodded. “Right. I uh-I can get out of the way.” 

“You don’t have to go,” Bradley said, meeting your eyes for the first time since this interaction began.

“It’s okay,” you said, forcing a smile onto your face as you grabbed the duffle you had shown him earlier and set it on the bed. “I um..I’ll leave you to it and be back in a few minutes, okay?” 

It wasn’t okay, but he didn’t feel like he had a right to feel like that, so he nodded instead. “Alright.” 

The process of getting something akin to a sponge bath and into new clothes was painfully uncomfortable for him. The nurse didn’t say much as she helped him, only giving him direction when she needed him to move a certain way or checking in to ask about his pain level if he flinched too hard. 

That part of him that he didn’t recognize wished you had stayed and helped him instead. 

By the time he was settled back in his hospital bed, he was tired and in pain. The nurse administered him another dose of painkillers before she made her exit. 

Bradley decided he preferred Nurse Jackie from earlier in the day. 

He tried his best to relax into the bed, focusing on keeping his body still until the drugs kicked in. He rested his hands over his stomach and paused. For the first time since he had been helped into them, he looked down at what it was he was wearing. 

He knew this t-shirt. It was soft and well worn, a UVA logo faded with time. It was one he had had since college. He wondered if it was a coincidence or if you had requested this specific one, knowing he’d recognize it. The thought eased some of the frustration he felt, but it didn’t go away completely. 

Bradley didn’t like feeling helpless and out of control of himself, and that’s exactly what he was right now. 

You said you would only be gone for a few minutes and he wanted to stay awake so he could talk to you, to maybe finally get a few answers, but the exhaustion from moving around mixed with the pain medication finally kicking in had him drifting off to sleep, your face and name cycling through his mind. 

--------

Part Three :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

*Part 4 and beyond are also on the masterlist!

Notes: Don't forget to comment & reblog! It's so unbelievably motivating.

Tagging those who asked or interacted with part one. I think I caught everyone, but I'm very new to this so apologies if I missed you! Please let me know if you'd like to be added or taken off this list :)

Tag List: @roosterforme - @mak-32 - @hoyaharper - @wildxwidow - @gretagerwigsmuse - @bradshawburner - @iamaslytherin0 - @lilyevanswhore - @too-fangirl-to-fuction - @fav-fanficssss - @benhardysdrumstick - @fandomxpreferences - @acatwriteshere - @1234-angelika - @double-j - @cocoskween - @sunflowersteves - @teacupsandtopgun - @littlezee80 - @sometimesanalice - @je-suis-prest-rachel - @khaylin27 - @infamous-reindeer - @hotch-meeeeeuppppp - @sarahjoestewy-blog - @sunnysidesidra - @notroosterbradshaw - @yanna-banana - @inthestars-unerthesun - @avengersfan25

[theringers]

friends with benefits - charles leclerc

summary: type A planner best friend lives with no thoughts head empty best friend and they decide to start sleeping together

request: 37 , 70, 78 w charles😃

prompts: 37) “Please? I'll be good, I promise!" 70) “we’re just…friends.” “friends don’t do this type of shit!” 78) “Not to make things weird, but I thought about you when I came last night.”

a/n: charles, head empty no thoughts just his hot roommate and his inability to keep things to himself

warnings: nsfw, 18+, angst kinda, friends to fuck buddies, oral sex

“Could you uhhhhh do me a favor?” You asked Charles. The fuzzy blanket was draped over both of you and he was about to press play on the movie.

His eyes rolled. “What do you need, my love?” He asked in a sarcastic tone.

“Can you maybe make some popcorn?” You tried to slow your words down a bit, for some reason thinking he would be more inclined to say yes if you asked like that.

He exhaled loudly. “Fine.” He tossed the blanket over to you so he could get up off the couch. “But only because now you’ve got that thought in my mind and I want it.”

“If doing things for yourself instead of me makes you feel better, that’s okay with me.” You smiled. This was a typical weeknight for the two of you.

You were a self proclaimed movie critic. Charles just got stuck with a self proclaimed movie critic as a roommate, but it made for some entertaining nights.

The two of you met in high school and immediately formed a bond. Everything between you two was easygoing and laid back, which he loved. He was never a huge people person or party type and neither were you.

You found peace in each other’s silent company and eventually realized you had more in common than you first thought. That following summer, you did practically everything together. Charles had a couple girlfriends here and there and you had a couple boyfriends as well, but it didn’t really matter. Nothing ever stuck.

College rolled around and you weren’t sure what to do. You wanted to stay in Monaco close to your family, but you just couldn’t live at home anymore. Lucky for you, Charles offered to let you move into his spare bedroom until you could make a decision. It had been years and you were still in that spare bedroom. The thought of moving out and doing something different hadn’t crossed your mind since the day you moved in.

“Do you want butter or no butter?” He asked from the kitchen, hands full of popcorn bags.

“Come on is that even a question?”

“Right. Butter. Lots of it.” He threw the bag into the microwave and it started to pop.

He came back with a bowl full of steaming popcorn and handed it to you.

“Be careful it’s,” he looked at you to see your mouth wide open and steam coming out, “hot.”

“Almost hotter than you,” you said once you caught your breath.

He rolled his eyes and fake laughed. “Hilarious, y/n.”

“I’m being serious.”

“C’mon, we’ve talked about this.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I think you’re hot,” you said. Every time this was brought up, he got so flustered. Which was why you continued to joke around with him and flirt with him. He would never act on it.

“Y/n…. I’m gonna go to bed if you keep this up.” He was annoyed.

“I’m sorry. Please stay? I’ll be good, I promise.” You batted your eyelashes at him.

“Fine, but you gotta stop,” he said, pulling your legs onto his lap so you could lounge more comfortably.

A rom-com was playing on the TV and the sound of munching on popcorn was filling the room.

A long distance relationship played out on the screen. Lots of phone calls, lots of phone sex, lots of jerking off to each other’s photos. You shifted in your seat, trying to seem casual and not uncomfortable.

“Not to make things weird, but I thought about you when I came last night.” You stopped shifting and looked at Charles.

“So much for ‘we’ve talked about this’.” You held up air quotes. “Care to elaborate?” He was known for saying out of pocket things. Sometimes you weren’t sure if he fully thought things through before he said them.

“I mean, not really. The movie just reminded me of it.”

You couldn’t think of a response quick enough so he continued to talk. “You always say whatever’s on your mind so I thought I might try it out.”

“You don’t do that enough already?”

“I’m trying to be more honest.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes at him. “I applaud you for that. But you can’t just leave me hanging like this.”

“Don’t hate me, that’s all I’m going to say.” His hand rubbed up and down your shins that were resting on his lap.

“I could never hate you, Charles.”

“Last night when you took a shower, you left the bathroom door wide open. I was just walking back to my room from the kitchen, I didn’t mean to-”

You laughed and interrupted him. “Charles, it’s okay. That’s my fault.”

“I just glanced, I promise. But I couldn’t get the thought out of my mind. And my cock was still really hard after a while.”

“You knew I was awake, you should have come to my room,” you said. It sounded good in theory but if you were being honest with yourself, you wouldn’t know what to do if he showed up at your bedroom door with a boner.

“We’re just friends though. Friends don’t do that type of shit.” He took a deep breath and looked off in the distance. Anything to avoid eye contact.

“Says who?” He looked at you and tilted his head in confusion. “A lot of friends do that type of shit. There’s even a word for it.”

“Have you thought about this before?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t… Charles, we’re two young twenty somethings that live together. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about what it would be like if we were sleeping together.”

“I don’t mean this in a bad way but I honestly didn’t think about it until I saw you.”

“Maybe it’s just the hopeless romantic in me.” You had thought about what a perfect storyline it would make for you two to sleep together but never the reality of actually getting into bed with him. Now that made you nervous.

“More like the horny romantic”

“Very funny…” You tossed a piece of popcorn at him and he swatted it away.

“So, are we doing this thing?” He turned his attention from the TV to you.

“Tell me you didn’t just actually ask me that question.” He was blunt and never beat around the bush.

“I did, and I would like an answer, please.” You wanted to smack that stupid smile off of his face for how he was making you feel.

“What’s this thing?” He needed to spell it out.

“Are you,” he pointed to you, “going to let me,” his finger moved to himself, “inside of you?”

You burst out laughing. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty. We need to set some ground rules for this.”

“Rules?” He didn’t look like he was a fan of rules. And as his roommate, you knew he wasn’t a fan of them. Just ask the groceries you’ve gone shopping for two months in a row.

“Our friendship, our cohabitation, you know. I’m not just going to let you go willy nilly on me without making sure you aren’t going to leave me friendless or homeless after.” Nothing could be done with you unless it was carefully planned. All possible outcomes had to be thought through.

“I would never leave you friendless or homeless.”

“Even if I was the worst person at sex, in the world, ever?”

“I highly doubt you’re the worst, but even if you were.”

“You’d still fuck me, even if everyone in the entire world was better than me. Damn I’m lucky.”

“Here’s a rule for you. You need to tell me how it feels. I’ll fuck you however you want to be fucked so you better tell me when something feels good.” Charles said.

“I can do that. If you like something I do, tell me. If you don’t, tell me.” You talked a big game but telling Charles how he made you feel sexually made your spine tingle, and you weren’t sure if it was anxiety or desire.

“I doubt there’s anything you can do to my body that I won’t like.” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. He was a guy after all.

“You wanna bet?” You asked, lunging at him jokingly.

“Sure, I’d like to see you try.”

“I guess I will, then.” You just needed time to plan it first.

He stood up and held out his hand for you to take. “Now that we’ve talked about it, I can’t get it off my mind.”

“You want to do this, right now?” Panic set in. This was too sudden.

“Right now,” he said, confidently. “If, that’s what you want, of course.”

“Okay.” You followed him into the hallway, bypassing your bedroom and ending up in his.

You took a few shy steps around, like you’d never been in there before. “Do you want to get on top or do you want me to?”

“Y/n…” He needed you to just relax and let go.

“Right, right, let’s just do it.” You took a step forward and he grabbed your face in his hands. Your lips moved with his, feeling soft and warm. There was only so much in your life you could plan. This was never part of it.

He slowly guided you to his bed and gently pushed you backwards. His shirt slid over his head and you admired his body, looking at him in a different light. He never took his shirt off around you with sexual intentions but this was new. And fun.

You smiled at him, both of you acknowledging what you were about to do. It made you explode inside thinking about how much you were enjoying this, letting someone else take control and letting go. You shouldn’t be enjoying this, you thought. Snap out of it.

“Before we start, is there anything you really don’t like?” He asked, reaching for the button of your denim shorts. You nodded side to side, giving him permission to pull the shorts down your legs.

He immediately pulled your thong aside and slipped a finger between your folds. He smiled feeling the wetness. “Thinking about us fucking is turning you on, isn’t it?”

“Don’t embarrass me,” you shot him a look and he understood.

“I’m not embarrassing you. It’s sexy.” He kneeled between your legs on the floor.

“Well, keep it to yourself,” you said.

“Why would I keep it to myself when I have physical proof that thinking about us is turning you on?” One of his fingers easily slid inside of you and your hips shifted as you rolled your eyes at him. “Is this okay?” He asked, concerned by your movements.

“Yes,” you said, unsure of what else to say. You didn’t want to give him any more ammo to make fun of you. You told each other everything but this was one side of you he never saw, and you didn’t think he ever would. Vulnerability at its finest, but you agreed to this.

His finger moved in and out of you and the sounds of your wet pussy made you want to cover your face and hide. He added a second and slowly curled his fingers up to hit your g-spot. A soft moan escaped your lips despite the fact that you were trying hard to keep them to yourself.

“Tell me how it feels.” He said.

“It feels,” you took a moment to breathe in, “so good.” He used his other hand to play with your clit, causing you more pleasure. You were looking at the ceiling, finding it hard to acknowledge that Charles was the one making you feel like this. If you squeezed your eyes shut hard enough, maybe this wouldn’t be something you needed to worry about.

A euphoric feeling began to build in your stomach, your legs slowly going numb in the best way possible. You continued to try and hold in your moans but when you hit your climax, everything was uncontrollable. Your body jerked and moans fell as you rode out your high.

You opened your eyes to see Charles pulling his fingers out and smiling. He made you feel that way and while you lay half naked on his bed post-orgasm, it was starting to feel okay. How much more vulnerable could you get with him than this?

He stood up and pulled his sweatpants off, his hard cock springing out of his cotton boxers. Your jaw dropped and you couldn’t help but stare as he stroked himself, preparing for you. He noticed, but ignored it, granting your request of not embarrassing you. The look he shot you was enough to know that he was aware of your stares.

“I’m only gonna say it one more time,” he said, leaning on top of you with his hands on either side of your head. “You need to tell me how it feels, or I’m going to start talking really dirty with you.”

You laughed, feeling more relaxed than before. “I almost want to keep quiet on purpose just to see that.”

He dipped his head in disappointment. “Not funny.”

“I think I’m pretty funny.”

“You are, but I want to make you feel good. I’d rather know then instead of you telling me I sucked after.”

“Okay, okay,” you obliged. He nodded and positioned himself at your entrance, slowly pushing himself inside of you.

You had to adjust to his size - his dick was nothing like his fingers. He didn’t give you much time before he started moving and you didn’t even care. He felt so good inside of you and seeing his body on top of you was putting you at ease rather than stressing you out, like you had expected it to.

His head rested in the crook of your neck, giving you perfect access to his ear. Almost like he did it on purpose, to make you more comfortable. You didn’t have to look at him in the eyes and admit how good he was making you feel. “Your dick feels so good,” you whispered in his ear and he grunted in response.

“You’re so tight, fuck,” he said into your ear, slightly nibbling on the lobe.

His hips moved rhythmically while you lifted your feet onto his back to change the angle. You couldn’t help but let more moans slip out at the feeling. “I think I’m gonna cum,” you said, quietly.

“Let go,” he said followed by a few expletives. His pelvis ground into you, creating a sensation on your clit you’ve never experienced.

You felt your second orgasm of the night build up as he continued to fuck you, keeping the same pace. You held your hands on his back and let moans fall to his ear making sure he knew how good you felt.

He pulled out of you and your body felt like deadweight. You were glued to the bed and couldn’t find the energy to get up. “How was that?” He asked. Of course he couldn’t give you a second to recover before opening his mouth.

“Great,” you smiled, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Did you finish?” You sure hadn’t felt him cum inside of you and you don’t think he wore a condominium either.

“No, but I just wanted to make sure you felt good.” He picked his sweatpants up off the floor and went to put his boxers back on before you stopped him.

“Unacceptable. I’m not going to let you jerk off thinking about me two nights in a row. Especially not after I was just naked in your bed.” Your post-orgasm confidence was showing when you dropped to your knees in front of him and took his still hard cock in your hand.

Slick juices still covered it, making it easier for you once you took him in your mouth. He was bigger than you expected, so you started swirling your tongue around the tip while your hand worked at the rest of him. “Shit,” you could hear him say.

You slowly took more of him, hollowing out your cheeks in response to his moans. His hand found the back of your head but rested there, not wanting to pressure you for more but he couldn’t resist once you fit almost all of him in your mouth.

The sounds he made caused butterflies in your stomach knowing that you were the sole reason for those sounds. His grip got tighter on you and he started to thrust into you when you felt a warm liquid shoot down your throat.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he grunted while you took every last drop. You stood up and took a step back, swiping your finger over your bottom lip.

He looked at you with the same eyes you looked at him after he finished fucking you. “So, uh,” he said. “Where do we go from here?”

You nervously looked around the room. “Should we finish the movie?”

“Great idea.”

You both put your clothes back on and sat back on the couch. “Let’s talk about that.” He never knew when to shut up, but sometimes it was for the better.

“What about it?”

“Did you like it? Should we do it again? Do you want to move out?” You laughed at his last question.

“It was really good,” you said, your thoughts wandering to just a few moments ago. You wouldn’t mind having him on top of you again. “We might as well.”

“Just one more thing,” he said. “Don’t fall in love with me.” He smiled and let out a giggle. You weren’t sure if he was being serious or not, but you laughed along too.

[arrowsandwolves]

I know I may be in the minority on this since most people seem to think episodes 5 and 9 were the best jiara episodes but for me the two scenes in episode 4 and the boat scene in episode 3 are far and away the best jiara scenes of the season.  i love slow burns and the journey is just as if not more important than the payoff for me (though I obviously LOVE the payoff too).  i think that’s why the boat scene and the two scenes in episode 4 are my favorites. they are such good examples of everything we have seen and loved about jiara from the start while showing us the beginning of something new.  they are also just great examples of what makes the friends to lovers trope so great in general but they do it in very different but complimentary ways.

the boat scene in episode 3 is proof of the best friends to lovers supremacy. of the goofiness and fun of time spent with a best friend that then builds up to that almost moment..the first recognition that something has shifted. JJ and Kie are laughing and joking around the way they always have.  that part of the scene reminds me of the ferry scene in 2x03 where they were joking about the fish with the joint. and then the tension builds and leads into the almost kiss. and it was hot.  friends to lovers at its best.

in contrast, the scenes in episode 4 show the angst that comes with a possible change in a relationship that has felt so comfortable and easy for so long. the anxiety and fear that comes with the possibility of fucking up this good thing that you have in your life. of losing this person that knows you so well...that knows your insecurities and the walls that you have built. for jiara, that anxiety and fear is heightened because of JJ’s lack of self worth and inability to let himself be loved and also because of the class divide between them.

that scene at JJ’s house hurts, but in the best way. i love how Kiara knows something is eating at JJ and she asks him about it so gently. and then JJ just spirals because he cannot accept the care and love that Kiara is trying to give him. and as the later scene at the Chateau shows us, Kiara understands that JJ freaks out when people get too close. JJ has clearly let Kiara get close to some degree because they are best friends and she sees him and understands him.  we have seen him allow himself to have small moments of vulnerability with her before.  but this...letting Kie love him...that is a whole new ball game. so he retreats. he asks Kie for a truce, a reset to what is comfortable. and she gives it to him (for the moment) because she understands him and isn’t going to push him on it (again, for the moment). but it is clear from the way they look at each other after they do the pogue handshake that something has irrevocably shifted in their dynamic and they can’t go back...they can’t put all those feelings back in that box and ignore them as much as JJ will try to going forward.

i could write novels about everything that was happening in these scenes. they were so good! i cannot end this rant without a special shout out to Rudy for that first scene in episode 4. the look on JJ’s face when Kiara tells him she does care. he breaks like it is physically painful for him to hear that. because it is exactly what he has always wanted to hear from Kiara but the absolute worst thing she could say to him in that moment when every reason they will never work is so present in his mind.

[violet-knox]

1 I would love to request a story for you if it´s still fine to do it, my request is a smut story with a quiet virgin female reader who is popular with opposite gender mostly because of her attractive physical appareance and for that when she confess that she have a romantic interested in him. He thinks is a lie or a joke to hurt him somehow but when she insist that her feelings are honest and she is willing to do anything.

Beauty’s Curse

Pairing: Young!Snape x Half-Veela!Reader

Summary: As Valentine’s day quickly approaches, you find yourself surrounded by more and more people asking to be yours, but you have your eye on someone else.

Warnings: (SPOILERS) Spiked drink, manipulation

Word Count: 6679

A/N: To be honest, I was a bit hesitant with this request because I knew it would be a rather big challenge. I didn’t want to write anything superficial or cliche, but I thought this would be a great opportunity to break the stereotype of “that pretty mean girl” and show that no one should be judged on their looks, even those who are considered attractive. 

I took inspiration from a situation I found myself in more or less recently, so please do read the warnings before reading this even though they are crossed out unless you really don’t want spoilers. 

Nearly six years had passed and the comments from your peers had never once eased. Valentine’s day had become your least favourite holiday from the never-ending line of people asking you to be their Valentine, each year worse than the last as your popularity increased. You knew it wasn’t their fault, not entirely. You were half Veela after all, something you never dare tell a soul. Rumours went around in your fourth year when you hit puberty, an invisible glow seeming to surround you as you walked down the hall, heads turning as they ogled you in amazement. ‘It was a gift’ your mother would always tell you, but you could never see it that way, especially after you’d agreed to go out with that boy a few years above you last year, finding out his charm only extended so far until his true colours showed. Since then, you’d done everything you could to contain your influence over those who yearned for you, knowing you’d never know true love if the man you ended up with only did so from his inability to resist you. 

You wanted to know what love really felt like, real love not the admiration the Slytherin boys chatting you up now were showing. It irked you how they’d suddenly surrounded you like this, three of them, all taller than you, all of whom were doing their best to impress you. One spoke of his father’s status at the Ministry of Magic, offering to take you anywhere you liked on Valentine’s day. Another tried to persuade you with the offer of visiting his mother’s shop in Westminster; the most luxurious dress shop in all of London he claimed, anything you wanted his mother could have you fitted for. The last boy had the nerve to try and hand over a necklace with the most amount of diamonds you’d ever seen, saying he’d offer you anything you liked if you agreed to be his Valentine. You had to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes, the necklace barely managing to snap your attention back to them as your eyes instead wandered to the end of the hall where you saw another Slytherin sitting on the ledge of a window with his nose in a book. 

You could still remember back when that was you sitting alone somewhere in the castle in your first year, everyone passing you by like you didn’t exist, your own nose shoved in the tenth book you’d been reading that week. Of course, that part never changed, you were a proud bookworm, one who’d much rather spend the evening diving into the pages of a good book than surrounded by people gawking at you. The only difference now was it was much harder to find a place where you’d be uninterrupted, but you always found a way, a small corner in this giant castle to call your own and escape the real world if not for a short moment. 

“Sorry, but I can’t be any of your Valentines.” You spewed a quick apology to the Slytherin’s and pushed passed them, only to watch the boy you’d been intrigued by slam his book shut and dramatically swift away down the stairs. 

He’d seen enough, the necklace turning his stomach into knots as he thought about the stupid bet they made before walking over to you, how they each thought they could buy you over with some luxury he could never afford to have. They didn’t even acknowledge his presence as they spoke, didn’t even bother to notice he’d hung back, that he stood by to watch them get rejected by the person who’d been known to reject everyone since first year. You seemed so kind and of course, it probably helped that you were a Hufflepuff, helped your ruse of being everyone’s friend, but he saw through you. He was the only one that did just as he was the only one to see through Potter. Everyone who was popular with the entire school had a dark side, he knew it, even if he hadn’t seen yours. 

“Severus!” He turned around in surprise as he heard his name called out, unable to recognize the voice. His expression immediately turned sour when he realized it was you who’d run after him, calling his name to get his attention. He turned around and began walking away, one hand holding his books tightly as the other formed a tight fist. “Severus, wait!”

You were almost surprised to see someone so bluntly ignore you, shun you like you were nothing and you knew it was an act of dislike towards you, the way he looked at you making it very clear he did not want to speak with you. Yet you couldn’t help but yearn over him all the more. The only person in the entire school that seemed to see you as just another student, the only person who didn’t look at you like you’d blessed the very ground you walked on and he wouldn’t even give you a moment to speak.

“Severus,” you tried again, finally catching up to him as you placed your hand over his shoulder, Severus nearly twisting your wrist as he spun around, acting like your hand had burned the spot where you’d touched him. “I was just wondering, if you’d perhaps like to go out sometime?”

“What?” Severus rose his brow, wondering if he’d heard you correctly. It almost sounded as if you were asking him out, you, the person everyone in his life compared to perfection, the beauty of an angel, kindness comparable to no one else’s. You who’d chatted with the entire school, made friends with everyone, enemies with no one, would choose him?

“It-it doesn’t have to be a date if you don’t want it to be. But I just thought, well I thought it would be nice to have a chat with you some time,” you said, feeling the heat rise to your face as you tried to ease the tension. Severus' expression only darkened with annoyance as his suspicion of you grew. 

“Did Avery put you up to this? Nott? Or Potter?” he blurted out. He couldn’t believe you thought he’d fall for such an obvious ruse. That he’d be desperate enough to accept your deceptive invitation, and when he found out who it was that plotted this interaction, he was going to make sure they never tried something like this again.

“N-no! Why would you say that?” You looked at him with shock, your heart sinking as you felt yourself nearly knock yourself over as you hit that defensive wall he had built around himself. You knew he wasn’t exactly liked by the other students, that he had a much tougher time than he deserved, but you’d never imagined him reacting like this when you finally built up the courage to ask him out. 

“I’m not falling for this,” Severus shook his head as he dismissed your advancements. He turned around and resumed walking down the stairs, leaving you to your own failure though he wasn’t surprised to see you running after him.

“Severus wait!”

“Tell whoever sent you to piss off!” He brushed you off without stopping. Reaching the ground floor, he continued to walk towards the Entrance Hall without so much as glancing your way.

“Severus no one sent me, I swear,” you tried to make him see reason, to show him you were being genuine, but as he spun back around, his hair turning dramatically with him as his strands quickly settled back into place, framing the annoyed look on his face, you could tell he wasn’t willing to let his guard down for even a moment and consider your intentions to be pure. 

“Really? Then why?” His words came out more as demands rather than a question, but you wouldn’t let it scare you away. You didn’t want to give up the one chance you had at a genuine relationship with someone who saw you as more than just a pretty face. 

“Why what?”

“Why in Merlin’s name would you ask me out when you already have the entire school ready to put their heads on the chopping block just for a moment with you?” His tone made you wonder if he was asking the question out of curiosity for your answer or if he’d already made up his mind, that no matter what you said he wouldn’t believe you anyways. You had half a mind to walk away, telling yourself you deserved better, but this was what you wanted wasn’t it? Not to be run after, try to be bought over in some way? You wanted someone to go out with you and love you for who you were, to resist the natural attraction of your Veela DNA.

“Because you’re brilliant and love to read. Because you aren’t like everyone else. Because you make me feel normal.” You poured your heart out to Severus only to have him scoff in your face, rolling his eyes, clearly finding your words less than truthful. You’d never admit it of course, but you did, in a way, lie. You’d admired him for so long now. All you saw was his good sides, but you couldn’t bring yourself to admit such a thing. “Please, Severus, give me a chance.”

Severus stared at you a moment, surprising himself as he actually debated your plea. He wanted nothing more than to believe you, to believe someone would be interested in him in the way you claimed. But it was you. How could he believe the most wanted person in the entire school would choose the most hated? He wanted to get the truth out of you, to embarrass you when you admitted to your real intentions and perhaps that’s exactly what he should do. Perhaps he could get you to blurt out the name of the imbecile that would soon regret trying to mess with him like this.

“Fine. There’s a Hogsmeade trip this weekend. I suppose I can spare a few hours with you.” He agreed to your invitation as he made plans of his own, immediately setting off to the dungeons when you smiled and nodded. You looked almost relieved that he’d finally accepted, almost like you had some other agenda and of course, he’d find out one way or the other. He was tired of the harassment, the humiliation from everyone in this school, tainting it with their insolence and stupidity. This was his home, the one place in the entire world where he could belong, and he wouldn’t let anyone push him around any longer. 

This was the last straw. He was going to make an example out of you and whoever it was pulling your strings. He’d make the entire school regret making him out as a punishing bag, a joke for everyone to laugh at. What more could he lose? His best friend had already abandoned him, his Slytherin peers eager to do the same, only ever defending him out of obligation for their own house. He had no one, nothing to care for except his own reputation. He’d come to Hogwarts wanting to make something of himself, to build himself a future better suited for a Prince than a Snape and that’s what he was going to do one way or the other. 

He made his way to his dorm first, retrieving the stash of potion ingredients he hid under his bed and cross referenced what he needed from the notes he’d taken in the back of his Advanced Potion Making textbook. He had nearly everything he needed, but he knew he could get the rest from the potion’s cupboard before Potion’s class today. It would take some time to brew and he’d probably have to stay up tonight, but he knew he could finish it just in time for his ‘date��� with you. 

 You’d spent all week excited for the weekend. Every day you woke up with a smile until finally the day of the Hogsmeade trip arrived. You were the first to wake, preparing for the day as your nerves grew, your friends questioning why you seemed so happy all of a sudden, but you brushed them all off. You didn’t want anything to ruin this day, knowing they’d laugh if you told them you were going out with Severus. You just wanted to enjoy your date, to be left alone and show Severus there was someone in this school who would love nothing more than to spend every second of the day with him. 

Naturally you’d show up early and of course you were prepared. You sat at a nearby bench with your nose in a book as you usually were when you were alone and despite the crowd that grew with every second that past, Severus had no trouble finding you, rather surprised you weren’t surrounded by people all laughing, waiting to see what would come of your plan to humiliate him today. You were reading Magical Theory, one of the most boring books he’d found in all of Hogwarts’ library, yet there you were, enticed by every word, flipping the pages like you couldn’t go another second without reading. 

“H-hello,” he said, startling you as you shot your attention up from your book to him. He felt his heart racing, his nerves escalating like this was a real date. But it wasn’t, it couldn’t be. He was here for one reason and one reason only; the truth. He shouldn’t be feeling guilty for something he had yet to do, but he did. A sliver of him didn’t want to hurt you, instead hoping that this was real, that you were here because you were genuinely interested in him, but he knew better. How could someone as popular, as liked and as beautiful as you be interested in him?

“Severus, I’m glad you showed.” You gave him the widest smile he’d ever seen anyone give him as you closed your book and stood up.

“I said I would didn’t I?” Severus rose a brow at you, taken back by the enthusiasm in your tone. 

“Yes, but you seemed reluctant the other day.” Truth be told, you half expected to spend the day alone in absolute despair trying to distract yourself in that book as you pretended like you weren’t hurt from being stood up. But he came and he seemed much less defensive than before. 

“Shall we?” He gestured to the group of students making their way down to Hogsmeade. You nodded your head and happily joined him as you walked side by side amongst the crowd. Severus was already suspicious of you and your intentions knowing if he was alone, he would have been called ‘Snivellus’ at least once by now. He felt shielded around you, like no one could touch him and for a moment, he was relieved to feel normal for once. 

“I loved your presentation in Defense last week,” you commented, hoping some light conversation would help ease the mood before you found a place to settle for the day. Severus glared at you in surprise, wondering if you were trying to butter him up or if you had actually paid attention during class unlike the rest of his useless classmates.

“Really? What did you like about it?” Severus questioned your honesty, wondering if he could catch you in a lie before your ‘date’ even started.

“I love how in-depth your research was on cursed objects and your theory of their origin was intriguing,” you said with a smile, holding back your enthusiasm in fear of scaring him away. But you couldn’t help it, you admired Severus and how brilliant he was. You felt the heat rise to your face as you thought about the first time you saw him with his nose in a book, the first time you’d ever found yourself pulled away from your own book. “I noticed you like to hang around the Defense section of the library, is it your favourite subject?”

“You’ve been spying on me?” Your question had the opposite effect that you wanted as you saw his wall rebuild itself around him thicker than before. But you’d never give up knocking and asking him to let you in, to give you a chance and show him he could trust you. 

“N-no, I like to hide in the library at times and I just noticed you were a regular as well,” you said, but you could tell Severus wasn’t convinced. He could almost see the crack in your claims, trying to cover them with some made up weak lie. 

“Why have I never seen you in the library?” The interrogation continued, Severus seeing his victory in his line of sight. He had you cornered and was ready to end the day now when you admitted your true intentions. A smirk began to grow on his face as he thought of the victory at the end of his fingertips. He could almost see the horrific look on the face of whoever is to blame for this day. 

“Pince lets me sit on the second floor overlooking the library, it’s only meant for staff, but she noticed my inability to have a moment to myself and rescued me one day from another mob of people looking to make conversation with me.” 

“That’s kind of her,” he said, gritting his teeth as you slipped away from him, freeing yourself from his near grasp. His lips stretched into a frown as his revenge faded away. The longer he spoke with you the more his hope that this was real grew. You surprised him with your lack of self-absorbent qualities and your interest in what the Hogwarts library had to offer. He never imagined having so much in common with someone with your popularity, always assuming you’d be a lot more like Potter than himself. 

He looked over at you as you nodded, your smile enriching the twinkle in your eye as you gleamed at him with joy. You were so happy to speak with him, to have a casual and light conversation, to share things with him you’d never shared with anyone before. It felt good to open up a bit, to show that other side of you that stayed hidden away when you spoke to your friends or classmates. It was almost freeing, and you only hoped with time, Severus could feel the same with you.

“So, where should we go?” You asked, unsure of what his favourite places at Hogsmeade was. He didn’t seem the type to enjoy a trip to Honeydukes and you knew he didn’t have enough money for the bookstore. 

“We could grab a table at The Three Broomsticks?” Severus suggested as he gestured towards the pub. You nodded your head and made your way over, opening the door and began to make your way to the first empty table you saw. You smiled when Severus pulled on your arm and pointed to the booth in the back instead. He was always such a loner, though you couldn’t help but wonder if he preferred the seclusion now because he didn’t want to be seen with you. You wouldn’t blame him for being skeptical and you were thankful he was giving you a chance, but trust was so important in a relationship and you didn’t want to start it off with an inability to trust one another. 

“Go ahead, I’ll grab us some drinks.” You nodded and made your way to the booth, making yourself comfortable as Severus walked over to the bar. As you slide to the middle of the booth, you began to appreciate Severus' choice in seating, realizing how well hidden you were from everyone, not wanting your day interrupted by someone who thought Severus had kidnapped you and forced you into a date because they thought someone like you shouldn’t be out with someone like him. 

Severus didn’t take long to bring you your drinks, setting them down before shuffling into the booth beside you, grabbing his drink and taking a few gulps. His nerves had finally settled in and he almost wished he’d ordered something stronger for himself. The moment of truth had nearly come and at any moment now he’d get what he came here for, but he was afraid. He feared what the truth may bring him, that if by some small chance you were being honest before, he was about to ruin a love that could have been.

“Thank you,” you said as you reached for your own drink and took a sip. “Not just for the drink, but for giving me a chance as well.”

Severus gulped down the guilt that grew in his chest. There was no going back now. He had to find out the truth, even if you seemed genuine with your feelings towards him. “I was curious to know why you’d want to go out with me.”

He dipped his toes in the water as you both continued to enjoy your drinks and as he hoped, you began to open up to him, though perhaps not in the way he would have thought. “I’ve admired you for quite some time and have been trying to build up the courage to talk to you for a while.”

You put your drink down in shock by your sudden outburst of words. You hadn’t meant to say all that, even if it was on the tip of your tongue. Furrowing your brows, you pressed your lips together, unsure of how you’d lost control so suddenly. You felt like someone was pulling your strings, like they had slapped you on the back so hard, the words just flew out of your mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say all that.”

Severus narrowed his eyes at you, doubting his own abilities and wondered how this could possibly be. He was so sure this was a trick, that you were being deceitful, put up by someone else to embarrass him, but your truth was far from what he was expecting. You were real, you were interested in him, and he’d made a terrible mistake. “S-so no one put you up to asking me out?”

“No of course not. You’re the only person I’ve ever met I felt like I could truly fall in lo-” You clapped your hands over your mouth before you could say anymore. Your eyes widened as you bit down on your tongue, muffling the words you could not believe were about to be heard by him. You looked at him in fear, feeling completely helpless. Your freewill had been stripped away from you and you found yourself unable to control what came out of your mouth. “W-what’s going on?!”

“I-I’m so sorry (Y/N). This was not how I imagined things would go,” he said, his sympathetic tone making it harder for you to stay calm as your heart pounded angrily against your chest. Every fiber in your body told you something was wrong, that you should run, but you couldn’t, you didn’t want to. You’d waited so long to be here, to be in this moment alone with Severus, you didn’t want it ruined.

“What are you talking about?” You let yourself speak just enough to ask for clarification, to give Severus the chance to explain himself, to give you the explanation you needed to stay here with him. 

“I-I slipped Veritaserum into your drink. I thought I could get you to admit this was a trick. I didn’t expect this. I’m so sorry.” You looked at him with absolute horror, your heart breaking into a million pieces as his betrayal sunk in. He’d manipulated you, used you like a puppet when you’d done nothing but open yourself up to him. You’d trusted him like you’d done with no one before, and he tossed that away like it meant nothing. Your eyes swelled with tears, unable to look at him any longer. Your legs immediately swept you from your seat as you glued your mouth shut, trying to escape the prison Severus had trapped you in

“(Y/N) wait!” Severus cried after you in desperation, unable to believe how he’d messed up something he could only dream of having. You were an angel that anyone would have felt lucky to be with and he was the demon you’d chose instead. The demon who’d scared you away from love, from happiness, from a good and honest relationship. He tried to grab your wrist, but his hand failed to hold onto you as your skin, your oh so perfect skin grazed his fingertips. You ran out the door with tears dripping down your face and a hand over your mouth, leaving him deserted. His eyes followed you until you were no longer within his line of sight, running to get as far away from the monster who’d broken your trust, your faith in him. 

Slumping back in his seat, he stared blankly at his hands, the hands that had spent all week brewing a potion that was meant to bring him peace, a sense of power and control over his own life, yet it brought him nothing but an empty heart and crushed aspirations. Your words rang in his ears, the kind tone you took with him, the loving look you gave him all sinking in much differently now that he knew for certain they were real. He looked up at the drink that had ruined his second chance, the chance at a happy life, a life where he no longer had to be alone and swung his arm at it in anger.

The pub fell silent as glass shattered, the drink spilling all over the floor as Severus pushed himself up and began storming out the door, ignoring the calls of the angry bartender who stood over the mess he’d made. Severus ran in the same direction he’d seen you head, but found no sight of you. He had no idea what he’d say or why he so suddenly ran after you without thinking. He just knew he had to find you. He couldn’t give up on the miracle he’d been asking for all his life, someone who truly cared for him, who liked him for who he was and could look past his flaws.  

He looked around and found himself in a lost haze, unsure of what to do next. You were gone, vanished like a figment of his imagination and he was left here to wonder how he’d managed to get so lucky to have the one person the entire school was after fall for him. He looked back at the road back to Hogwarts before he found his legs suddenly jolting him forward as if his body knew exactly where to go. He couldn’t understand what was happening, how he felt like he had no control over himself. His mind was cycling as it tried to comprehend what was happening, how he could be driven on nothing but emotions, his feelings for you pushing him to run as fast as he could back to the castle and up those flights of stairs. 

By the time he got to his destination, his hair was sticking to the sides of his face, his lungs gasping for air as he felt his entire body heat up. His heart pounded angrily against his chest, shouting at him to keep going, that he wasn’t done until he’d found you, but he’d never run so much in his life, never felt so unable to breath, even after the massive panic attrack he had the night after the Whomping Willow incident. 

Looking around the library, he found his way to the door he knew only staff were allowed to open. His hand bolted for the doorknob, tugging on it to find it locked. Pulling out his wand, he tried to unlock it with no luck. His fists pounded on the door in frustration, he needed to get in there, he knew you were in there, he could feel it. You’d trusted him enough to tell him about this place and as much as he was aware you didn’t want to see him, he needed to see you. “(Y/N)! (Y/N)! Please open the door! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t think- I didn’t know!”

Severus hung his head low as he pressed himself to the door. This was as close to you as he knew he’d ever get again. He’d ruined any chance of a relationship with you and you were right to hide away from him. He was destructive, ruining anything he touched, anyone who spoke with him or dare come near him and perhaps that was why Potter felt the need to hex and curse him every time they saw one another. He couldn’t let it go on, he had to try and mend things, if not to at least make up for what he’d done.

“Please, at least let me undo what I’ve done. I can cure you and if you don’t want to hear what I have to say then I’ll leave. But please let me fix this.” Severus shut his eyes, tears threatening to fall as his forehead met the door. He stood there in silence, wondering if he’d hurt you so bad you’d abandoned the one place you felt safe in this school, if he’d done to you what Potter had to him. He’d become what he hated and was about ready to retreat to his dorm when he heard the doorknob turning, the door slowly opening as he took a step back, his eyes wide as he wiped away the tears that rolled down his cheeks. 

Your eyes met his and you felt your disappointment melt into anger. Your jaw hardened as you locked your teeth together, doing everything you could to keep from speaking another word to Severus. You watched him snap out of your gaze and begin to fumble with his robes, pulling out a small stone and presenting it to you. You stared down at it confused, wondering what kind of apology this was meant to be. 

“It’s a bezoar. I know it’s not the most comfortable solution, but it’s all I have,” Severus offered it to you, hoping you’d take it, that he could try and regain your trust once again. He held out hope as he watched your posture relax the slightest bit, your hand hesitantly reaching for the stone. He wouldn’t dare speak a word or move a muscle until you indicated what it was you wished of him next. From this moment forward, he would do nothing you didn’t ask for, say nothing you didn’t demand. 

Tossing the stone into your mouth, you swallowed hard and groaned at the feeling of its rough texture travelling down your throat. You heaved for air, but for the first time since you ran out of The Three Broomsticks, you found yourself able to relax your jaw, your fear of spilling your guts disappearing. Straightening your back, you looked at Severus who seemed unable to move or breath, waiting for your command to do so as his wide eyes stared desperately into yours. You’d never felt so conflicted, your feelings for him clouding your instinct to slap him for what he’d done to you. You never felt so humiliated, so used in your life. Severus had gone from the person who’d treated you like a normal human being to the one person in your life who’d hurt you worse than you ever thought you could be hurt. But you still couldn’t find it in you to shove him away and lock him out of your life. So instead, you closed the door behind you and stood your ground with your arms crossed, waiting for Severus to explain himself. 

“I-I’m so sorry.” He nearly choked on his words as they came out when he saw the look on your face, the frown you wore. No word would ever be large enough to truly depict how he felt right now and as much as he wanted to say more, all he could do was apologize.

“You already said that,” you mumbled in a whisper, speaking against your own trauma from the truth serum that Severus had given you. He looked so sincere, so desperate for your forgiveness. You’d never seen him like this before, clawing at someone else for something only they could give. He’d always been such a strong person even if others would disagree. He wasn’t presumptuous as he was proud of himself and his achievements, but the person who stood before you now had no pride left to show. He had nothing but regret and torment in his eyes.

“And I can never say it enough. I should never have put that potion in your drink and I wish I could take it back. I didn’t think you were being genuine. I was so sure you were lying to me.” He spoke honestly, hoping you’d have faith he was being truthful with every word he spoke, that you could at least put the trust in him he failed to put in you. 

“Why?” You couldn’t let go of the sheer stupidity of what he’d done. His reasoning didn’t make the slightest bit of sense to you, and if you could understand why he did it, maybe you could begin to forgive him.

“Why? Because you’re you and I’m me and why would I ever believe you of all people would be interested in me?” Severus went on as if the question was an absurd one to ask, the answer so obvious, even a house elf could see it. He wondered how you couldn’t see his hesitation, why you’d ever think he’d simply accept the fact you were interested in him.

“Because I said that I did!” you said bluntly, rather offended he questioned your intentions at all. Never had anyone second guessed you to this extreme before and you didn’t appreciate it in the slightest.

“I know, I just-”

“Didn’t trust my word?” You looked completely heart broken, more so then when you realized he’d slipped truth serum into your drink. He could see trust was something you cherished between those you let close to you and he’d completely ruined his chance at gaining it from you.

“No, I didn’t. I couldn’t. Not after the way the school decided to brand me all those years ago.” Severus had no hope of convincing you what he did was justifiable because even he knew it wasn’t. All he could hope for was for you to understand his hesitation, to understand why he had to do something when you approached him to see if you were genuine in your intentions.

“I’ve never treated you that way,” you retorted.

“I know. I’m sorry and I’ll understand if you’ll never want to speak with me again.” He put the ball in your court, completely at your mercy. Whatever it was you decided to do, he would respect it, but every inch of him begged you to give him another chance, to let him have a proper opportunity to have someone in his life that would care for him, to have a happy ending. But as Severus stared into your blank eyes, he could tell he hadn’t swayed you in any way. It was his fault and as he had nothing more to say, all he could do was turn around to walk away from everything that could have been.

“That’s it?” Severus stopped as you called after him, turning around in surprise as he stared at you blankly. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re just going to walk away? You’re not going to try and fight? For-for this?” You gestured between yourselves with a sliver of hope in your eyes. You knew you shouldn’t have expected much from him, but a part of you hoped he’d be a little more resilient to giving up on you, especially after all that time you’d spent admiring him from afar. 

“I-I didn’t think there was anything to fight for,” he said truthfully, looking at you with wide eyes as he walked back to you. He stared at you intently, trying to read you, to figure you out with all these mysteries surrounding you. How could someone so beautiful fall for him, want to be with him enough you’d be willing to give him a chance at redemption when his own best friend wouldn’t give him such a thing?

You took a step forward, wanting so badly to have all those talks with him you’d dreamed of having, to enjoy spending time with him if not to simply read together and find comfort in each other's company. You wanted to go back and give him a chance to redo the evening, to have it end much differently than yours and if it were anyone else, you would never have given him the chance to explain himself. But it wasn’t someone else, it was him. It was the one person in this whole world who you thought could break your curse, who seemed immune to it.

“Severus, why don’t you treat me like everyone else in this school?”

Severus stood in silence a moment as he thought back to how easily everyone worshipped the ground you walked on, how you always seemed to have a trail of people behind you, admiring you for no reason other than your looks. His thoughts wandered to Lily and how Potter seemed just as enchanted with her as the rest of the school did to you, how he’d only become intrigued with Lily after finding out she was a kind witch who lived in Cokeworth.

“I just-I suppose I just never thought of you in that way because I didn’t know you, and I never thought you’d be interested in knowing me.” Severus tried to be as honest as he could, watching you with hope. He held onto the fact you hadn’t run away, that you’d given him the chance to speak, to hear him and understand him. You were so kind, nothing like he would have ever imagined and he knew if he was ever so lucky as to get a second chance with you, he would never take it for granted again.

“Well, I am,” you said with a smile. You’d always been rather talented at reading people after the absurdity you’d seen from others, and Severus had truly wanted to make amends. You prayed your faith in him wasn’t misplaced, that he meant every word he said and that he saw what you saw. “If you are.”

“I am.” The words flew out of his mouth faster than he could process. He jumped at the chance you offered, beyond excited for the happy life he saw ahead of him. “Would you perhaps like to try again?” 

You nodded your head eagerly, excited for your do-over date. You almost wanted to forget what had happened today, to approach things with him from a fresh perspective. “Valentine’s day is coming up. Would you care to share a cup of tea with me at Madam Puddifoot’s tea shop?”

“Really?” Severus couldn’t believe how kind hearted you were, how willing you were to see the good in others and how tremendously lucky he was to have found you, or more accurately, have you find him. 

“So long as I’m buying this time,” you nodded with a laugh, eliciting a smile from Severus as you began making your way out of the library. You smiled as you finally got to see the real him, the person you grew infatuated with, the boy who you saw hope for love with. For the first time in your life, you felt content, excited for the spark you felt growing inside your heart. You could experience love for the first time in your life, real, pure love and you couldn’t wait to see what more it had in store for you.

[ayamturd]

flight│quackity

summary: a late snack run turns into a fun ride; in other words, sleep deprivation and a shopping cart equals helpless giggles and scraped knees

warnings: minor injuries, slight blood descriptions, fluff

pairing: irl cc!quackity

a/n: here’s my sleep deprived, crack continuation of my quack fic payment :P

huge warning in and of itself that it is not edited

wc: (1.3k) - m.list

payment - pt one

Hugging the tub of ice cream close to your chest, you bounced your head to the old song, its tune outdated and staticky on the store speaker. 

Quackity continued to push you in the cramped shopping cart, your lower half completely incased with various snacks and packaged foods. While the trip was originally your idea to satisfy your own guilty pleasures and inability to sleep, dragging Quackity along only fueled your lack of self restraint considering he was now the one adding in the irrelevant items in the cart. 

“Babe,” you called out. Quackity gave out a low hum in recognition that he heard you, his gaze still focused on the shelves of the aisle. 

“Are you sure you want to get these Takis? You’re not exactly one for spicy food.”

He pulled the cart to a sharp stop, the halt jerking you forward as you barely managed to grab onto the sides of the metal basket. Quackity looked at you in disappointment and gestured widely to the snacks you currently sat in. 

“Don’t tell me you’re going to start judging me for my snack choices when you’re the one who’s getting a majority of this shit.”

Your jaw dropped in disbelief, and you quickly narrowed your eyes in turn. The sight alone made him gulp when realized his mistake of questioning you.

“Excuse you. I’m only concerned for your pain tolerance considering how pitifully sad you handle spice. If you wanna judge me then I can just as easily bring you physical pain, since you’re being so insistent right now.”

Eyes wide, Quackity started at you incredulously and shut his mouth close. He barely managed to blink until he attempted to smoothly recover from your none subtle threat. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love you and your snack choices?”

You rolled your eyes and turned before he could see your eased smirk, shaking your head lightly while simultaneously throwing the obnoxiously bright purple bag out of the cart. 

“Mhmm.”

After almost two hours alone in the empty store, both Quackity and you were able to agree that you finally finishing your entire sweep around the entire store and decided to pay. 

Although there was no possible line to stop you, you pulled on Quackity’s sleeve as you  approached the only checkout open, the tired employee sitting against the counter with his head on his hand on the verge of falling asleep after watching your silly antics as his only source of entertainment. 

“Wait, Alex, before we pay, is there anything else we could be missing?”

Quackity gave you a deadpan expression as his only response, words unnecessary to express how stupid your question was in the first place. You nodded immediately with close eyes. 

“Yeah okay, good point. Let’s go already.”

As you began the consuming task of placing each item on the conveyer belt, you attempted to turn it into a fun game when tossing the snacks rather than placing, still sat in the cart crossed legged. 

You got arguably pretty far until the cashier had enough of your game and glared harshly down at you, his glasses reflecting the store light and amplifying his lack of patience so early in the morning. He was no doubt payed too little to deal with people like you. 

With a guilty grin, you slowly placed the last bag of chips for him to scan and waited for Quackity to pay. 

“Will you be needin’ a bag?” the man asked in a dead, monotoned voice. You furrowed your brows and looked to Quackity to respond, his own eyes squinted considering the amount you both purchased and were hypothetically expected to hand carry home. 

“Nah, we’ll be fine,” Quackity pushed off, his tone obviously sarcastic. Whether or not the cashier picked up on his joke or not was at a loss to the couple as he nonchalantly ignored it overall. 

“‘kay.”

He swiftly handed Quackity his spare change without looking, and gave a loud yawn before shoving the purchased snacks away from him. 

“Have a nice night.”

Unsure of how to proceed, you pushed your lips together and decided to take it upon yourself to gather the food in your arms, lifting them in your chest and plopping down with them on top of you. 

Like he could read your mind, Quackity wordlessly pushed the cart away with you in it, away from the counter and through the automatic doors of the store. Without as much as a thank you, you both speed away when the worker noted your departure. 

“Hey, now wait a se—”

Giggles soon turned into cackles as Quackity hurried his pace. As you rode over the small bump of the entrance, you screamed with excitement as you raced against only yourself on the asphalt road, stolen cart in bound. 

Quackity pushed off with his dominant foot and stood on the lower ridge, his added weight yet powerful force quickly increasing your speed down the small hill. 

Together, you yelled at the top of your lungs from the weightless feeling of flying, gravity free of its hold on you and you clung onto the snacks in both fear and exhilaration. Quackity’s warm breath radiated near your left ear, his loud shouts smothered by the wind you were catching as he leaned forward in suspense. 

You flew as far as the hill could take you, until a sudden pothole broke your lifted flight. Like Icarus himself, your risen flight was tragically cut short. 

The front wheels of the tiny cart twisted unforgivingly before snapping upon impact with the small ground cavity, launching you both mid air without the freedom to glide gracefully. 

Landing hard onto your hands and knees before tumbling out, you didn’t realize you held you breath from the anticipation until you were letting out heavy chunks of air from your lungs, the intake harsh and winding to feel. 

You were numb and still buzzed from the adrenaline, eyes wide while unsure of what to think of your current status. 

Sprawled slightly a few feet away from you, Quackity’s own exhales joined yours for what felt like minutes before he sat up. He looked at you in panic, suddenly realizing the possibilities of your own injuries in spite of his. 

“Are you okay? Can you f—” your chuckle interrupted him, arm raised to cover your eyes from the kindhearted pureness of his concern for you over his. 

“Yes, Alex. I’m fine, perfect in all honesty.”

As you laid there with your arm still over your face, you felt Quackity slowly make his way over you, his presence hard to ignore no matter how silent he tried to be. Peaking an eye over your arm, you were met with his huge beam, cheeks full by the pull of his mouth and delighted expression. You rolled your eyes from his cheerfulness, but didn’t dare try to hide your own smile.  

“You’re ridiculous.”

Without a beat, Quackity refuted your admittedly true claim. 

“And yet you love me still.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

Bonus:

“You didn’t tell me you were fucking bleeding??”

Quackity rushed forwards to hover over your knees, the wound covered in sparse blood and bits of the asphalt imbedded into your skin from the impact. 

While you were in immense pain since the throbbing numbness faded, you only grinned brightly from the cause and reached behind you. 

“No worries, babe, ice cream will save the day.”

You placed the wet condescension of the ice cream tub against your skin with a hiss, tears leaking from the harsh stinging you faced from adding pressure and a change in temperature to the sickly warm cut. 

“See?” you asked, with a wavered smile and clenched teeth, “all better!”

Quackity stared dumbfoundedly at you, giving quick glancings to the now bloody cardboard in your shaking hands and your unconvincing smile. 

“That’s disgusting.”

“I know you are, but what am I?”

“…really?”

“I’m bleeding out, give me a break.”

tags! - @notphilosopherstudentblog @mitzimania @basilly @inniterhq @forutheworld @esylwen@sleepysoupi @mayasimagines @dysfunctionalcrab @strxbrymilkkuu​ (feel free to send an ask or comment to be added!)

[hugespace]

Therapy helps rhett realize that all of those "I'm dead" UFC moves were actually just a way to fulfill his need for physical intimacy at a time in his life where he didn't feel it was acceptable to ask for it, especially from another man. Now that they're both adults and completely different people than they were in college, rhett decides it's time to explain it all to link and let him know that he actually misses that physical contact with him.

It took me a really long while, but I finally finished this one! I really loved that prompt, so thank you so much for giving it to me, lovely Anon. I was initially going to write it as a platonic/romantic friendship kinda story, but it seems I'm determined to write a hundred different first kiss + feelings realisation scenarios, I simply enjoy those way too much.

*** 2,5K ***

Let me hold you

He’s done it again.

Not so long ago, Rhett promised himself not to bring it up in front of cameras or a microphone unless he talks it out with Link, privately.

Especially not as a joke.

And he’s failed already, he scolds himself short after the Ear Biscuits episode is recorded and they’re both out of the room, heading back towards their office.

He thinks he could have just omitted it, shouldn’t have mentioned anything. It simply wasn’t necessary to mull over it again, even with the topic of the episode revolving around their college experience. It wasn’t a big deal, he said it himself, countless times. Every time they talked about it on the show.

So, every time.

There’s never been a conversation in private about that incident or anything that preluded it, never in the absence of people to entertain, never not around at least one recording device. Because why would there be? It wasn’t a big deal. A funny story, s’all.

He’s also never been able to just let things go, though, and thanks to that inability, the lore of wrestling and the “I’m dead” move had to live on. It was an innocent story, a funny albeit embarrassing one – their unofficial brand after all, an easy misunderstanding and a fun little anecdote, not his carefully curated version of what happened, nor a watered-down one, not just a part of the entire story devoid of any feelings associated with it, not a big deal-! And most of all, not… true. Not true.

Rhett isn’t sure if Link has been consciously going along with that wordlessly agreed upon version of what their UFC phase looked like, repressing the truth behind it, or… simply never realised what it meant for Rhett and genuinely thought of it as a humorous yet insignificant part of their friendship in the past.

Most likely the third option, he has to assume. After all, why would Link attach any meaning to it? It’s not like anything actually ever happened, not outside of Rhett’s mind at least. Frankly, he himself went decades without understanding his own motivations, more than once confused by why the memories of wrestling with his friend and laying on top of him felt both shameful and deeply comforting. Why even long after they grew up, stopped being kids, and as a result retired all their UFC moves, the only way he could describe what he felt thinking about that time was longing.

Until therapy happened.

Just like with many different things in his life:

There was something in the darkness, and then therapy shone a light on it.

It was like there were countless situations he navigated solely on instinct, without paying much thought to the reasons behind why he acted a certain way, and once therapy equipped him with the ability to do so, he unearthed an entire deep layer of feelings and emotions that were always there. Just hidden, even from himself.

The wrestling being one of those things.

So, he thinks Link doesn’t know.

And he’s finally determined to change that.

Why now, when he’s had so many chances to talk to Link over the years ever since he started being more in touch with himself? He doesn’t really have an answer; it’s just that after talking about it with such levity again, after repeatedly making a joke out of it, it feels like he might explode if he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t confess to Link what it was really like. And most of all, it feels like the yearning has become stronger lately, and the conversation yet again playing it all off as them being young and silly only ignited it, made the flame inside of Rhett burn brighter, threatening to make his heart combust.

“I need to talk to you about something that’s been on my mind.” Rhett says easily once they’re in the office. It’s not an unsure statement or a nervous plea with words tumbling out of his mouth before he can lose his cool and change his mind. It would have been all that and more a couple of years ago, sure.

But he’s a different man now. He’s not afraid to tell the person who’s been with him for almost the entirety of his life what he feels.

Link, however. He does look unsure, a bit alarmed even, when he looks at Rhett and responds.

“Sure-? What is it? Do you wanna talk now?”

It’s just like him to worry. Run a hundred different scenarios in his head, most of them negative, trying to prepare himself for every possible outcome of a serious conversation before it even began. It’s an anxious survival instinct that makes Link resilient to even the worst that life has to offer and able to face it all head on. But right now, it’s nothing scary. Rhett doesn’t want his friend to be worried, so he quickly says as much.

“Don’t worry, s’not bad. Just something we talked about on the podcast today.” The blonde sits down on the couch and pats the cushion next to him, hoping he appears to be as calm as he truly feels inside and that it might dissolve some of Link’s concern, still written all over his face.

The other man takes his place on the sofa and looks at him expectingly.

“Right. So-“ Rhett’s calmness doesn’t completely evaporate once Link gives him his full attention, but it’s suddenly laced with some nerves. “About the wrestling. You know, in college. And before that. And- Especially about my ‘I’m dead’ move. I’ve been thinking about it, and-“

“Rhett, I swear, if you made me sit down for a talk only to tell me you’d like to make it a part of our conflict resolution again, then ha-ha. Very funny. I’d like to go get myself some coffee now.” Link cuts him off with an unamused look in his eyes and almost makes a move to stand up.

Rhett is quicker though and grabs the brunette’s arm before he can really move, effectively making him stay in place.

“What? No. That’s not what I’m saying. Like, at all. I-“ He realises he’s still holding onto Link’s arm and instinctively wants to retract his hand, but that same feeling that led him to initiating this conversation in the first place makes him reconsider. “I’ve been thinking about what it all meant and why I did that, especially when we fought or you were angry with me, and-“

“Because we were young.” Link quickly answers what wasn’t even a question. “We had too much energy and neither of us really wanted to hurt the other by punching him or- or fighting in earnest. What else would it mean.”

“Link can you let me talk? I’m trying to say something important.” Rhett squeezes Link’s forearm. “So, as I was saying. I mostly did it when you were angry or I was feeling unsure, and I didn’t realise it back then, but- But I know now, that I just… needed reassurance. You know, physical contact.” He explains, looking straight into Link’s eyes and trying to interpret his reaction before it comes.

When nothing happens, and the brunette just stares back at him with a furrowed brow, he feels compelled to continue and elaborate.

“Like when people… hug after an argument-?” His brain almost challenges him to make a different comparison, presenting a parallel between laying half-naked on top of your best friend and another activity people often partake in to make up after a fight. But that’s not- It’s not what he’s trying to say. It’s not like that.

The face in front of him frowns in confusion, blue eyes squinting and mouth opening and closing again, only letting out a puff of air and no sound at first.

When Link finally responds, his voice is unsure, like he suspects that he’s not understanding something right. “Are you trying to tell me you wanted to hug me when we bickered, so you pushed me to the floor and laid on me till I was even angrier, instead…?”

That’s not fully what Rhett meant, but it’s close enough, so he nods.

“What the crap, Rhett-? You're not making any sense.”

“Okay, listen…” He decides to go for a different approach. “We still don’t hug after arguments. We never hug hello. I think I could count on my fingers how many times we’ve actually hugged each other as adults, outside of the show!”

“Yeah! That’s just not what we do! We’ve never done those things, it’s just not a part of our relationship- I still don’t know what you wanna tell me here Rhett.” Link throws his hands in the air in a gesture of resignation.

“I want it to be a thing we do, okay?! I always did, but I was afraid to ask for it so I just took what you could give me without talking about it. Can’t have actual intimacy? Make up a UFC thing so I can be close to you! Can’t hold you when I’ve made you mad? Better lay on top of you till you give up and have no choice but stop!” Rhett pauses to finally take a breath.

“That time that guy saw us- I’m sure you remember I stormed off right after-? I panicked, it was like him seeing us and thinking there was something else happening almost made feel like it was something else, and since I started it, it also felt like I wanted it to be something else. I got so angry at myself for even trying and I never did it again. I’m sure you remember that, too!” Words flow out of Rhett in a hurried and increasingly loud cascade, while Link’s eyes grow bigger and comprehension dawns on his face.

“I know how stupid it sounds. But you know how I was. We were well into our thirties when I still refused to get close to you. And it’s not that I didn’t want to, it was the opposite – I wanted it a lot, man.”

„But I thought...?” Link seems to be turning a thought over in his head. “I thought you just never liked it. That the wrestling thing was about you… asserting dominance. That’s what it felt like at least. Like you trying to act like an older brother or somethin’.”

“No- It was me wanting to be close to you and not knowing how to ask for it. My very convoluted way of expressing love, you could call it. And I’m sorry it took me-“

“What changed-? I mean, what made you wanna talk about it?” There’s urgency in Link’s voice when he cuts Rhett off.

“I… I realised I miss it. I told you, we still don’t really hug or get intimate, however that sounds, and I’m not gonna just topple you and pin you to the ground again. We’re too old for that. For once, I don’t think either my back or your shoulders would survive if we started wrestling every time I wanted to be affectionate. But also- We’re over forty, Link. What does it say about me if I can’t just ask a person I love and have loved for almost four decades to hold me when I need it and would resort to, well, aggression-? That’s not how it should work.”

Link ponders Rhett’s words for a few beats before opening his mouth again, only to let three breathy words escape. “You love me-?”

It seems like the wrong thing to focus on, Rhett just opened up to say he not only craves physical intimacy now, but also struggled with that same need when they were younger so badly, he had to invent an entire intricate system allowing him to be closer, and Link questions the one thing he knows already. Because of course he knows, Rhett’s said as much dozens of times, of course he loves him. But it appears he has to say it anyway, judging from the weird look in Link’s eyes.

“I do, of course I lo-“ The blonde begins, yet he doesn’t get a chance to finish and ask whether Link heard the other part of his confession at all, because at once, his mouth isn’t free to keep talking and there’s no air left in his lungs as the man who was just sitting right next to him plunges forward and collides with him, lips first.

Oh. Rhett manages to form one more coherent thought despite being startled and entirely taken aback. Link misunderstood. That’s why he got hung up on the love confession. That’s not what Rhett meant, that’s not what he was trying to say, it’s not like that-

He feels like he should clear things up as quickly as possible. Logically, he should be panicking, racking his brain for a way to straighten things up, to explain to Link that it wasn’t what he was trying to say without making things worse, without ruining everything and making his best friend feel miserable and embarrassed, until…

Until Rhett realises his body went rogue and started responding without his conscious decision, his lips are moving against the other man’s, one of his hands is cupping Link’s face, while the other strayed away and is caressing his back. And it feels like his heart is trying to break out of the ribcage with how hard it’s pounding in his chest, along with his stomach doing wild summersaults. And he’s not panicking, not at all. And it’s not a misunderstanding, how could it, when he loves Link with his entire soul, with his whole being- And exactly like that, it hits him. Starting this conversation, he thought he already understood everything, but he didn’t– there was still that last puzzle piece missing.

They come up for air, panting from the intensity of that first kiss, foreheads flush with each other. Rhett finishes the sentence he began before Link’s move changed everything. “Of course I love you.” He means it now, he means it exactly like Link took it and can’t comprehend how he didn’t think of it before, but it’s perfectly obvious now.

So he hugs Link. He encircles the man’s body with his long arms, squeezes, and holds him, feels his friend snuggle into him, nuzzle his face into the crook of his neck and breathe deeply, holding Rhett's larger body in return.

All he needed was ask for the closeness.

He asked, and he got it.

He got all he wanted and so much more.

So, so much.

[stopeatingwhales]

pregnant x damon albarn

MORE DILF DAMON. this made me want to slowly die I cant it was so cute to write

Pairing: 2014 damon albarn x reader

Warnings: none :D

Word count: 1.341

Requested by anon <3

༉‧₊˚✧

The world around me seemed as if it was spinning at a pace more sporadic than lightwaves as I attempted to focus my gaze on the two faint red lines, which had begun to illustrate themselves on the plastic stick, increasing it’s coloured prominence after each second had passed. Those same two lines, coincidentally, provided me the answer to all the dilemmas that had been enthralled and cultivated over the past week: the consistent queasy feeling that encompassed my limbs every moment I tried to fix my body in a standing position, my guts instantly being triggered by the sudden movement that I would go and throw up - said to be morning sickness, the irritable craving for any little thing that cropped up into my brain for less than the sum of a minute, resulting in me forcing my boyfriend to journey to the corner store, purchasing the specific one that I had wanted, otherwise I would’ve gotten all fussy and made him return back to get it; as well as the horrible mood swings that would occur, provoked by the sudden increase in hormone levels displacing my demeanour constantly, remaining me a mopey mess… It was simply a fever, a cold, a horrible catch of influenza, though as soon as the realisation washed over me that I had skipped the supposed due date for my period, the ideation dawned on me, which was answered in the only way possible - a pregnancy test. Managing to get my friend to purchase one for me as I was bedridden for days on end, proving my physical inability to do simple household tasks myself due to the morning sickness that I had developed, I avoided telling Damon about my speculations, merely because I didn’t want to get his hopes up. The talk of bearing another child had been levitating in the empyrean of our conversations for a short while, mainly beginning as simple jokes, which would then mature into the statement ‘Imagine raising a child…’, though no conversations had ever progressed into concluding such dreams of doing so.

“Hiya love,” Damon said, instantly turning his head to the door as he set his eyes upon the sight of me strutting into the living room, managing to walk around without the nauseating feeling erupting in my throat for the first time in hours. He thought that I was asleep, the only times the sounds of my shuffling around audible was when I had headed to the bathroom - the place in which I had found out the newfound news that had been growing inside my lower stomach. He stood up slowly, reaching my side as he provided assistance to make my way over to sit on the sofa, beside where he was sitting, engulfed in whatever was shown on the television. Once we sat down, and he was fully sure that I was comfortable, he sat down beside me, where he had previously sat before I entered the living space. Admiring his features, I noticed that he looked tired, exhausted even; he was working extremely long, tiring hours at the studio as the release date for his upcoming solo album - tonight being his only free evening. My heart panged in my chest for the short period that my eyes laid on him, exhaling slightly as I realised that returning home to his partner being in such a temperamental state perpetually, would affect him more than he would care to admit, at all; he would be adamant that I hadn’t been making him feel worse, though by the look of his drained features, I might just have. “You alright?”

Nodding my head, I directed my vision to stare at the random episode of some antique show that had been displayed on the television. “Why on earth are you watching this?” I laughed, grabbing the remote to switch channels to something more interesting.

“There’s nothing to watch!” he groaned, though it sounded more like a chuckle laced with slight annoyance towards how bland the channels had been today. Deciding upon leaving the television on the news, not caring excessively over what was playing, I turned my head to fixate my stare on Damon, our gazes meeting. His piercing blue eyes burned straight through mine as if to telepathically question upon why I hadn’t simply called him over to our bedroom, the fatigue embraced on my features almost foreshadowing the thought that from my projected abnormalities, another thing had been plaguing my mind; something else was going on.

Stretching my arms out in the air, I filled the silence that had collapsed between the pair of us, the only sounds audible echoing out from the television speakers. “I think I know why I’ve been feeling so sickly.” I mumbled, my body relishing in the sensation of my limbs, once aching in outright pain from being stuck in one position under my duvet for many hours on end, finally fulfilling its use in movement.

“Because of your fever?” he replied, a small laugh escaping his throat at what had seemed to be such an obvious answer to the question that had been floating in the atmosphere of our minds. For all Damon knew right now, was that I was poorly with what could only be concluded as a monstrosity of a fever, and was being far too dramatic at the thought that I was going to die constantly from the overwhelming waves of heat that had kept flushing over my skin.

As I shook my head slightly, a miniscule grin casted on my lips as I set my mind on speculating his reaction to me mentioning the ultimating news that I had come across simply a couple of minutes ago. “It’s not that…” I trailed off, my voice shrinking in volume as I allowed my right hand to rest on my lower stomach, patting it lightly, giving the notion that it had something to do with my stomach. My eyes stayed focused on Damon’s expression as I watched his eyes squint together for a short while, confusion outcased across his features, my smile widening at how oblivious he was being.

The beam that perched on my lips simply grew Damon’s puzzled state even more, until realisation washed over him, to which his eyes widened, his head merely cocking to the side as he wondered whether it was appropriate to ask or not. “You’re not…”

Water began to softly brim my eyelids as my smile enlarged, exposing my teeth as I managed to lift my body and straddle Damon’s lap, taking ahold of one of his hands, so soft to the touch, lifting my shirt up slightly as I placed his hand on my lower stomach - the place in which our future child was inhabited. Disbelief poured over his expression; he was left speechless as he awaited such confirmation toward his suspicions. Placing my lips gently onto his, I held our bodies in a warm, slow, passionate kiss, goosebumps coming alive on my forearms as I allowed the salty liquid to escape from my eyes as they were closed shut. “I’m pregnant.” I said, detaching my lips away from his as I marvelled at his face lighting up with joy, his arms embracing me in another hug. Upon finding out that the option was attained, I couldn’t have been more ecstatic. There was a life growing inside my belly, a life that had been formed from such passion and affection shared between the person that I had loved most, somebody that had provided me the knowledge that you can never stop loving somebody, and the love that you have for them, grows every single day.

Both his hands began tucking fallen strands of my hair behind both my ears, eventually holding my face in his hands as I melted into his touch, his thumbs softly swiping against my now tear-stained cheeks as he brought my forehead forward to brush against his. “You are going to be the best mother in the world.” he stated, his lips connecting with mine once again.