#except. of course. asking for things from dad every blue moon

[silverspleen]

My brother: You could just ask our Aunt for money.

Me: What?

My brother: Oh, don't you know? She's paying for like, half of the cousins' rent right now. Just ask her. She'll pay your rent.

Me: No! I don't need handouts! If I want money I'll just ask Dad.

My brother: Uh-huh, because he raised you to be a Good Republican Woman - *cackling*

Me: Oh no oh no no no oh my god no - it's the bootstraps. I'm - No no! I just don't want to take advantage!

My brother: *laughing at my misery*

Me: It's because I'm financially stable! I don't want to take advantage of people's kindness when I'm ok! Noooooo.

My brother: lol ye I know >:)

-

The fucking Agonies of self reflection and having to be like "oh my god my gently conservative father and usamerican upper white middle class upbringing did manage to completely impress bootstrap mentality onto me, personally. Oh my god. I don't ask for help because of the bootstraps. Fuck!!"

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Gentleman caller

Sanji x reader. NSFW!! (moodboard)

This fic was inspired by Usopp visiting Kaya at her mansion at night. One Piece of course is not that sort of story, but... what if things were allowed to get a little more spicy?

TAGGING @holymusicalmothman @b7717 @mcereal @aamon47 Thanks for asking!!

*****

"Are you sure you don't want a glass of warm milk before you go to bed, miss?"

"I am sure, Kyla." you answer politely. The truth is you haven't drunk a glass of milk to help you fall asleep since you were ten (that is, almost half your life) but your governess keeps asking, every single night, and every single night you answer no; still, you know she does it out of worry and affection for you, which you sincerely appreciate "I think I'll go now; will you tell my father good-night for me, when he returns?"

Kyla promises she will, and returns to the kitchen to clean up after dinner, while you walk out of the villa's large dining room, cross a long corridor and climb the stairs to the upper floor, finally reaching your bedroom.

Except for Kyla in the kitchen you are alone, since the cook and the gardener, who do not reside in the villa, already left, and your father is as usual busy with a business dinner. You don't feel lonely exactly, since that state of affairs has been going on since your mother died when you were still too young to remember her, but it does feel a little weird to live in such a large place, no less than twelve bedrooms on the first floor alone and at least six other rooms that have been closed for years since you literally don't know how to occupy them, when it's only the two of you... a waste of space, even though you and your father often host parties and receive many guests.

And the most important of those visitors by far is going to arrive soon, a person your father has no idea has already visited so many times before...

You take off your shoes, and spend a few minutes in the en-suite bathroom refreshing yourself before closing the bedroom's door behind you. You sigh, happy and excited, as you let yourself fall on the bed, observing the room you have slept in since you were maybe six and that you will soon leave: the desk cluttered with paper models, scarps of fabric and sewing tools; the two mannequins wearing your latest creations, a green cocktail dress and a simpler but elegant light blue men's shirt; the bookstore full of sewing manuals, fashion catalogs and the biographies of your favourite designers; the large poster on a wall, depicting a famous, elegantly dressed model... and the glass door that, only a few minutes after you have retired to your room, starts being hit by tiny pebbles, picked from the garden below.

Your guest is here. You happily stand from the bed, glance quickly to the full length mirror on the wall to make sure your hair is combed and in order, and reach the glass door to quickly step onto the balcony.

Standing in the garden under you like a suitor ready to serenade you, more handsome than a fairy-tale hero and beaming as if about to see all his dreams come true, is him. The former assistant cook of your family, your best friend in the world, your...

"Sanji!" you call out to him, voice barely rising above a whisper as you wave your hand at him, a greeting he returns in kind, clearly happy to see you, hidden among the trunks of the centuries-old trees; the night is particularly dark, heavy clouds covering the crescent moon and most of the stars, but his smile is brighter than any other source of light.

"Are you alone?" Sanji asks urgently as he glances all around him; no one has reason to visit the garden at this hour and the balcony is oriented towards the back of the villa, far from the main entrance through which your father would come in, but you both know how imperative it is to keep your rendez-vous secrets.

"I am; my dad hasn't returned yet and Kyla is in the kitchen. You can come up."

When you decided you would meet in secret at night, five years ago, you had offered to find a rope for him to climb, but Sanji never needed it. Tonight, as usual, you look on as he nimbly climbs the tree closest to the villa's wall, clinging to the huge trunk and then to the largest branches until he's jumping above the balcony and directly in your arms.

You embrace each other, your profiles standing out against the light filtering from the room, and for a full minute neither feels the need to talk. Sanji's arms hold you close by the waist, his lips pressed against your temple in a chaste kiss; you lose yourself in his scent, the costly perfume you bought for him because you knew he liked but couldn't afford it and and that never fails to make you shiver, as you enjoy the sensation of his slim but strong body pressed against yours.

"Do you have it?" you ask after a while, pulling away just enough to look at him in the eyes; you thought about nothing else for days, more nervous than if it had been your own future career at stake "The answer from the school. Did you receive it?"

"I have."

"... and?!"

Sanji, as usual neatly dressed in one of the dark suits he wears at work, smiles at you, his fingers brushing against your face; a small backpack hangs from his shoulder. "Can we go inside before we talk?" he proposes "I have something for you as well."

Knowing he brought you a treat from the restaurant he works at makes you happy, but nothing beats the simple, pure pleasure of his company. Wordlessly you take his hand to lead him inside, leaving the now empty balcony behind.

*****

Your friendship with Sanji began exactly one decade ago; you were the only daughter of a powerful politician, living alone with him at the villa and whose pathological shyness had left her virtually friendless, him a newly orphaned boy your father had decided to hire as assistant to the cook, so that he could support himself. One afternoon, you visited the kitchen to ask for a snack, since you were starving and dinner was still hours away; the cook told you that he was sorry but your father, already then worried for your weight, had strictly forbidden him from feeding you between meals. You noticed Sanji, busy scrubbing a large pot in the sink, but he seemed so focused on his job you decided not to disturb him to introduce yourself.

You left, disappointed but unwilling to insist, out of respect for both your father and the cook who was just following orders, but a few minutes later, as you studied in the library, he joined you, a nervous smile on his face and a salami sandwich in his hands.

"Please don't tell anyone, especially not your dad." he told you as he put it in your hands "I hope you liked it, I put some mayonnaise on it because I saw the cook used it to prepare your school lunch yesterday."

You did (and still do) like mayonnaise on your sandwiches, and in that moment you were doubly astonished: that he heard your request for a snack even though he had looked so engrossed in the cookware to wash, and that he had decided to risk your father's wrath to help you, less than a week after being hired.

"Thank you, I... thank you so much! That was very kind of you." you told him, for once forgetting your shyness "My name is (name). What's yours?"

"I'm Sanji. And don't worry; I'm sure your dad means well, but no one should starve, especially not at our age. Don't tell anyone, ok? I know he forbade the cook from feeding you snacks, and i'm not supposed to visit the family's wing of the villa without a valid reason."

You obviously kept his secret, and from that day on, you and Sanji quickly became inseparable, spending together all your free time from school and work; he secretly fed you every time your father's concern about your weight made the cook limit your meals, and you used your allowance to buy him cooking books he studied to pursue his dream of becoming a famous chef. Apart from your father, you had never loved anyone like him; Sanji was the other half of your soul, an acerbic but steadfast feeling that made you sure you would never feel alone, as long as he were by your side, and you would not have left him for all the treasures, and the good food, in the world.

Your father, who was happy you had finally made a friend and didn't mind you had chosen the kitchen boy and not one of your school mates, who belonged to the city's most affluent and prominent families, never had anything against it... at least until you were both fourteen, when he suddenly decided it was inappropriate for the two of you to spend so much time together; as a sign of peace, he found Sanji a more prestigious job in a famous restaurant at the other side of the city. That, in your father's opinion, would have meant the end of your friendship, but it obviously didn't: and after all, with all the sandwiches and portions of dessert he had snuck you, hadn't your friendship been based on secrecy since the very beginning?

For five years Sanji has spent with you almost every evening he is free from the restaurant; he climbs the trees next to your balcony and you let him in, and sometimes you spend the whole night talking, or leave together to visit a bar or go dancing. Is it dangerous, should your father discover what you are up to? Undoubtedly so, especially since you know he only worries about you, whether it is about the food you eat or the places you visit in a large and dangerous city; but you are an adult, more than old enough to decide how to live your life, and Sanji is always ready to protect you when someone bothers you in a club, and he would never feed you something that could seriously endanger your health. You don't know why exactly your father has suddenly decided you mustn't be friends with him anymore, but you are determined not to lose him, especially now that your relationship has started evolving beyond mere friendship... and your own dreams risk separating you forever.

*****

"So? What did the school say?" you insist as Sanji closes the glass door behind the two of you; your heart is pounding, wishing with every fiber of your being you could change the decision the commission must have taken days ago "Did you get in?"

For years Sanji has dreamed of attending the most prestigious cooking school in the country, the Baratie Culinary Arts Academy in the capital; this year he has finally reached the required age to enroll, but the entrance examination, that your friend has taken two weeks ago, is notoriously difficult, especially for who, like Sanji, also has to apply for a scholarship. Your friend was meant to receive the results of his exam today, and you had decided you would also share your own secret with him... and then, hopefully, you would both have something to celebrate.

"I'll tell you in a minute."

"Sanji, please... I haven't thought about anything else all day!" you complain, fearing your friend's reticence is due to shame for his failure; Sanji, busy emptying his backpack on your desk, smiles, before rubbing the back of his head.

"The truth is... I haven't opened the letter yet." he admits "I hoped we could do it together... mainly because I don't have the courage to do it by myself."

There is nothing wrong with wanting a friend close when one is both scared and excited for something, but in that moment your heart breaks for Sanji: he has lost his parents, had to take care of himself since he was still a child, and while he has a good job and could try again next year, being refused admission to the Baratie would break his heart.

You wait patiently as Sanji quickly sets the table for the two of you: cutlery, napkins, glasses, a bottle of water and his latest effort in the kitchen: two portions of a delicious chocolate cake, bigger than what your father would allow you to eat but still relatively small, since your friend does care about your health.

"This looks delicious, Sanji!" you exclaim, as always happy to taste your friend's latest creations "But wait..."

You walk to the small fridge next to the door, almost hidden under a pile of scraps of fabric left over from your latest creation and that you will find a use for one day, and retrieve a small but expensive bottle of champagne that you have bought in the afternoon.

"I thought we could use it to celebrate; I have also taken two flutes from the kitchen." you explain.

"I still don't know if I got in, (name)."

"I'm sure you did. And if the chefs at the Baratie can't see, and taste, how extraordinarily talented you are, it's their loss." you point out "You wanna open it?"

A minute later you are sitting face to face at your desk, cake and champagne ready to be enjoyed, the white envelope Sanji took from his backpack in your hands.

"Shall I?" you ask softly; your friend, who has never looked so pale and so young, nods.

"Please."

You both hold your breath as you open the envelope and then unfold the single sheet of paper inside. You make sure Sanji cannot see your face as you read...

"So? What... what does it say?"

"Sanji, I'm so sorry..."

"Oh, God..." your friend, heartbroken, stares at you for a moment before slumping on his chair, face hidden in his hands "I can't believe it... I was so sure..."

"I'm sorry because you have some very difficult years ahead..."

"... what?"

"Of course. Nights spent studying, sharing a room with six other people, waking up extra-early to go to class... Really, I don't envy you..."

Finally you look at him, beaming, while Sanji's eyes grow bigger as he slowly catches the meaning of your words.

"You mean...?"

"You got in! And you got the scholarship as well. Oh, Sanji, I'm so proud of you! I knew you could do it!"

You stand and embrace, laughing with shared delight. "I can't believe it." Sanji murmurs, still as he looks at the admission letter, signed by Zeff, a famous chef who is the Baratie's headmaster "There were so many people at the exam, and at one point I was so nervous I spilled a bowl of vinaigrette on my apron..."

"As I said, an important school like the Baratie, with so many experienced chefs, couldn't not recognize your talent." you point out, happier than you remember ever being "Classes start in a month, you'll have to give your notice at the restaurant."

"Yeah..."

Sanji takes your hands in his, kissing them devotedly. "I could have never done it without you." he murmurs, with the sort of gaze and inflection that, years after your first kiss, still makes you shiver "All the books you have bought me... and it was you who convinced me to apply. I owe you so much, (name)."

"You would have done the same for me; and we both know the two of us are beyond this sort of talk. I am so happy for you, truly; I know you will become a great chef."

Sanji smiles, circling your waist with his arm as he uses his free hand to pick one of the flutes from the desk. "Shall we celebrate, then?"

"Actually..."

"Actually?"

"Actually, I also have something to tell you." you admit, a new, excited smile opening on your face "You know that important fashion school in the capital, the one many of my favourite designers attended?"

Fashion has always been your greatest passion; you have designed clothes since you were a child, and thanks to a family friend who owns a large tailor shop you have learnt the basics of the trade, how to cut fabric, sew and tailor an item of clothing. Your father, who approves of your interests, has offered to introduce you to some fashion designers his friends or associates are acquainted to, but you are determined to accept no recommendations and take no shortcuts; just like Sanji, and any person who has to work hard to realize their dreams, you will pursue your education, earn an apprenticeship at a fashion house, and in time, hopefully, open your own and make a name for yourself as a designer. It will take you years and fashion is a famously difficult field to break into, but you are determined to give your all, so that whatever the future may bring you will be free from regret, and live doing what you love.

"Of course; the Nefertari Vivi Fashion Institute." Sanji promptly answers; miss Vivi is one of your idols, a ground-breaking designer who has revolutionized the fashion world and then focused on teaching, establishing one of the best-reputed educational institutions of the field "So what?"

You smile, still excited almost a week after receiving your own letter, that you asked your father to open for you.

Sanji gapes. "You are kidding."

"I am not!"

Your friend laughs. "And you didn't tell me anything!" he exclaims, and you apologize, telling him you didn't want to disappoint both of them in the not unlikely event you were not admitted.

"But you were?"

You still can't believe it yourself. "I was! There was no exam; I only had to send miss Vivi some of my creations, and a few days ago I received the acceptance letter."

"(name), that's amazing!"

"I know! I can't wait to begin. I also apply for a scholarship, but unfortunately I didn't get it."

Sanji asks whether you plan on asking your father to pay for your classes, but you shake your head: you need to learn to take care of yourself, living alone once you'll move to the capital and earning money to support yourself. To this end, you have contacted a friend who lives in the capital and owns a bookstore: she has accepted to hire you, and you have sold your jewels to pay your tuition fees.

"(name), you didn't!" Sanji exclaims, flabbergasted "Those were your mom's things..."

"I know." you sigh, still feeling saddened and a bit guilty even though you know you did the right thing "But this is my future we are talking about, the opportunity to build a career, and a life for myself, without my father taking care of me or using my family's money to buy whatever I need or want. I want to earn my keep, Sanji; I want to prove I can take care of myself, and that I am more than a spoiled little girl."

Sanji softly points out that no one who knows you could ever think that; he smiles, his handsome face expressing a joy too great and deep for words, as he takes you in his arms once more. "So we are both moving to the capital to study." he mentions "And pursue our dreams. Which means we'll both be very busy..."

"... but we won't have to hide our relationship anymore." you happily finish for him, having already reflected on the matter; you plan on living in a student residence, since their rooms are cheaper than other types of accommodation, and guests are usually not admitted, but at least you will be able to meet in the open, having dates like any other couple instead of having to hide like a married man with his mistress, lest your father learns about your relationship "I can't wait! In a month we'll both be living in the capital, studying with the best in our fields, and nothing will stop us from being together. I... I don't think I've ever been so happy!"

"Me neither." Sanji agrees, one of the flutes in his hand once more "Shall we drink to our future? And then enjoy the cake?"

You agree, but you barely have had the time to clink your glasses together when a sudden noise reaches your ears: an unexpected, but otherwise innocuous noise, at least for who, unlike the two of you, has nothing to hide...

A soft but firm knocking on the door.

Sanji looks at you, suddenly tense; you turn your eyes to the door, wishing to be able to see beyond it. "Yes?"

"(name), it's dad. May I come in?"

The flute almost slips from Sanji's fingers; terrified as if a whole army were standing at the other side of the door, ready to barge in and tear both to pieces, you both nonetheless act quickly, having prepared for such an occurrence since your first nocturnal meeting. Your friend quickly retrieves the flutes and the champagne bottle, while you do the same with the cake plates and the other things placed on your desk; a moment later, Sanji has slipped under your bed, a dusty and uncomfortable hiding spot where nonetheless he'll be safe from your father.

I hope.

"(name)? Is everything all right?"

"Just a moment, dad! I'm coming!" you answer, hoping you sound less nervous, almost terrified, than you feel; you quickly glance all around you, making sure no trace of Sanji's presence is visible, and finally go open the door.

"Hello, dad. How was dinner?" you ask, approaching to kiss him on the cheek; even though he interrupted you and Sanji, you're happy he came to say good-night to you before retiring to his own bedroom.

"Pretty good, even though the lemon cake was not up the restaurant's usual standard. Are you ok?"

"Yes, of course; I was... preparing to go to bed." you answer vaguely, before something in your peripheral vision makes you tense; it is Sanji's backpack, placed where your friend had left it less than half an hour ago: on the bed, perfectly visible.

Shit. SHIT. Shitshitshitshit...

You move a step to the right, so as to prevent your father from noticing the backpack; it is not as compromising as if he had found Sanji's tie, or his shoes, but he could notice the backpack is a men's model, and inside he could find your friend's personal documents, five years after he had forbidden you from having further contact with him. Don't look at it. Don't see it. Please please please...!

Thank God your father, a clever and perceptive man, seems unconcerned with out-of-place objects in your room. "I was thinking tomorrow we could go buy a new suitcase for you; you need a large one, since you'll have to bring most of your things when you'll move to the capital. I hope you'll allow me to pay for that at least."

You smile, grateful for the offer and even more for the intention. "Of course, dad. Thank you."

He smiles, taking your hands in his. "I am so proud of you." he murmurs "I have always known you had a great talent for fashion, but being admitted to such a prestigious school... You'll become the greatest designer of your generation, I'm sure."

"Dad..."

"Please, let me be happy for you. You know I'm always there if you need something, right? I know you have found a job, and you are smart and mature enough to take care of yourself, but if you ever need money, or you want to come home, you can do it; no judgement. Oh, I wish your mom could see you..."

You bite your lip, suddenly unable to talk; a lump of emotion blocks your throat. You are happy, and grateful, that your father supports your desire to move to the capital and attend the Nefertari Institute, especially since he's so protective and you know he wished you would one day follow his footsteps and go into politics, and while you can't wait to start your classes and enjoy life in a big city, the thought of leaving him, and the house where you were born, fills you with sadness... and guilt.

"I... I will never thank you enough for everything you have done for me." you murmur, stepping closer to him to hug your father "And I'm sorry if... if I ever made it hard for you, especially after mom died. I love you very much, dad. I'll be back often to visit, I promise; and I'll miss you so much."

"I'll miss you too, my darling girl." your father answers; he's moved as well, but better than you at hiding it "But I'm so proud you're beginning your life in the world. And I hope you'll let me visit you as well."

"Of course! Every time you can."

"Good. Now, we should both go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

He kisses you on the forehead, and soon after he's closing the room's door behind him. You are still staring at it when, a minute later, Sanji joins you, resting his hands on your shoulders.

"Are you all right?" he asks softly; he has known you long enough to perceive what you are feeling, the love for your father and the guilt for the relationship you are carrying out behind his back, the efforts you are making to build a life for yourself away from his protective but constrictive influence and the way you'll miss him terribly and feel guilty for leaving as soon as you could.

"Yeah, just... I was just thinking."

You sigh, turning to face Sanji, desperately trying to return to the carefree joy of five minutes ago, and drive away the melancholia filling your heart. After all, it is normal for children to find their way in life away from their family, and your father is still young, dedicated to his job and career, and has many friends and a new partner he is very close to; he'll be all right, and whatever loneliness and melancholy he will feel, you know he will accept it.

"Your father is a good man." Sanji points out as you both retrieve your drinks and plates from the wardrobe you had hidden them in "He didn't even know me, but he gave me a job when I was alone in the world, and then he found me an even more prestigious one at the restaurant; every berry I ever earned I owe it to him. I'll never forget all the help he gave me."

You smile, happy to hear your friend talk well about your father. "You still have a good opinion of him even if he forbade us from being friends?"

"Well, I shouldn't resent him for that, since we never stopped seeing each other. And he only wanted to protect you, which I can understand."

You blink. "... sorry? What are you talking about?"

"Right, I... I never told you, did I?"

Sanji rubs the back of his neck, suddenly bashful. "You never wondered why your dad was suddenly against us being friends?"

You had. "Well... I thought it was because we weren't children anymore... and you a boy and I a girl..."

"Exactly, but... there was something else. When I was fourteen, I... I wrote you a letter; there was something important I needed to tell you, but I couldn't find the courage to do it in person. I left it on your pillow one day while you were in school, but your father found it... and read it."

You wait for Sanji to elaborate, but he seems focused on staring at the floor, avoiding your gaze. "It was... something inappropriate for a father to read...?"

"Nothing vulgar, if that is what you are wondering; but... it did say I wanted us to be more than friends, and this is what your father opposed, not that I was an orphan without money and prospectives, but because he thought you were too young for that sort of relationship. So... so he asked me to leave things between us as they were, and when I refused, he decided it was better to separate us, and he found me a job at the other side of town, forbidding me from contacting you again, at least until you were of age."

He looks at you, tense since he has no idea how you could react, but the truth is you don't know either. "He sent you away because he didn't want us to date?" you recapitulate in the end, flabbergasted "What would have been so wrong about that? Lots of girls get a boyfriend at fourteen, and he knew you, he knew you would treat me well..."

"Well, he's always been protective of you. Sorry, maybe I should have told you before..."

"It's ok." you reassure him, even though you are not completely sure of it yourself; you understand your father's reasons, and appreciate he didn't simply kick Sanji out in the street, but at the same time you can't believe all of it was to stop your best friend, a boy he knew posed no danger, from confessing his feelings "I... I'm so sorry, Sanji..."

"Well, it wasn't so bad; and as I said, I really don't have a reason to complain, since we did end up becoming more than friends. I felt guilty lying to your dad... but I couldn't give up on you."

He smiles, as he picks one of the flutes up from your desk again. "Now, can we please have a toast to our future?"

You do, happily enjoying your late-night snack; you delicately clink your glasses together before taking a sip, and then feed each other cake, your knees touching under the desk.

Silence has fallen on the room, and on the two of you, as usual when you are with Sanji a comfortable, peaceful silence that you don't feel the need to fill with small talk; you smile at each other, both happy and excited at the future opening in front of you... a future that you will face together as you have always done, finding strength and support in each other.

"Does chef Zeff teaches any class at the Baratie?" you ask after a while; you know the extent of Sanji's admiration for the principal of the cooking school, and it would be amazing for him to learn personally from his idol.

"Not for first-year students; but I heard that he sometimes gives one-on-one classes, if he finds a particularly talented pupil."

"... which means he'll leave all his other classes to tutor you exclusively, as soon as he tastes your True Bluefin sauté... or your salami sandwich."

Sanji smiles; he knows how much faith you have in his cooking abilities, and he never stops being grateful for it. "You're exagerrating."

"I'm not." you very seriously protest, as you clean your dish from any crumble of cake; you know watching your diet means taking care of your health, but you would happily eat three more! "A month and he'll let you skip a year or two, I promise."

"Well, if you are so sure..."

A few minutes later Sanji is putting the dirty plates and cutlery away in his backpack, while you observe the sky out of the glass door, leaning with one shoulder against the wall.

"Once we both live in the capital we won't have to hide anymore, but we'll be so busy with school..." you consider "I'm afraid we won't have a lot of time to spend together."

"Still, it will be an improvement from what we have now. And all the city's school dormitories are in the same campus, which means we can visit each other every time we want."

You nod, still pensive, and a moment later Sanji's arms are circling your waist, his chest pressed against your back.

"It's going to be all right." he murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear in a way that makes you shiver in such a pleasant way "We are going to be all right, I promise, no matter how busy we are."

"Oh, I know; believe me, I'm not doubting my feelings, or yours. We have waited for so long to be able to live our relationship in the open, and I can't wait to be able to see you every day, even for five minutes between classes or to cram together at night. It's just..."

You turn in his embrace, almost apologetic as you smile at him. "I feel so happy, as if all my dreams were coming true: attending a great school, not having to hide what we share. It is almost too good to be true; and I'm almost afraid to wake up and find out it really was just a dream."

Sanji is too kind to make fun of your fears; he considers them as he holds you close, equally aware that no matter how steadfast your feelings for each other are and even though both of you have rightfully earned admission in the schools of your dreams, you are both beginning a new chapter in life, and neither knows what future may have in store for you.

Still, it is pointless to worry about tomorrow, and Sanji decides that more than reassure you, he wants to make you forget your fears, even if just for a minute. "You know what I'm thinking about?" he asks after a minute, his tone pensive "That I've been here for at least thirty minutes, and I haven't kissed, or been kissed by, you, even once."

"Ah, that won't do."

"It really won't. So..."

He grins, happy to see you smile as well, and when he lifts your chin with his fingers you obediently close your eyes and offer him your mouth to kiss.

Almost three years have passed since your first time, in this very room, and kissing Sanji still makes your heart tremble; he is sweet but passionate, not aggressive but intense enough to leave no doubt about his feelings, and his intentions. You enjoy the feeling of his mouth on yours for a moment before kissing him back, Sanji's lips hot against yours; you feel him smile, his hands now holding you by the waist while yours gently caress his hair and neck.

"Gods, you taste so good..."

"It's the cake, Sanji."

"No, it's not. You are delicious, (name); absolutely... mesmerizing..."

You keep kissing for a while, as your hands start moving on each other's body; Sanji whispers your name, suddenly breathless, as your mouth descends towards his neck, at first gently pecking at the delicate skin of his throat, and then sucking hard enough to make him moan.

"(name)..." he murmurs again, and you smile, circling his hips with your arms; you nuzzle at his chest, the soft fabric of his shirt so familiar and comforting against your skin, and wish you could stay like this forever.

You feel Sanji's hands move on your hips and back, his fingers brushing against the hem of your skirt.

"I like this one." he murmurs in your ear; he is aware of the effect he has on you and exploits it mercilessly "Is it new?"

"Made it myself." you answer proudly; you had seen the skirt on a fashion magazine, and rather than buying it you had decided to see whether you could recreate it "Does it look good on me?"

"You look absolutely ravishing, my darling..."

And ravish is exactly what Sanji seems intent on doing; a minute later your back is pressed against the wall, with a very handsome, very amorous young chef intent on making you forget your very name.

Sanji's back and shoulder muscles are taut under your hands as they run all over his body, like a beautiful clay statue molded by your touch; you can feel his heart pounding against your chest, the tenseness in his body as he tries to restrain himself in order not to unsettle you, not to take more than what you would be ready to offer. Dear Sanji, you think fondly as you arch your back to press your chest against his and finally, finally feel his hands grab at your buttocks, don't you know at this point you don't even have to ask?

Sanji's jacket is the first item of clothing to go, falling on the closest chair after you helped him take it off; he returns the courtesy freeing you from the heavy sweater you wear, leaving you with a tight camisole, the different colour of your bra visible under it. He smiles, clearly appreciating the view, but a moment later his expression turns serious, almost reverent, as he gazes at you, almost as if he couldn't believe he's really holding you in his arms.

"I love you so much, you know that?" he murmurs, and no matter how many times he has already uttered those words, you know how deeply he means them, how utterly and hopelessly devoted he is to you and to what you hope to build together. To be the object of such an intense ardor is... humbling, since you're not quite sure you deserve it, and you could even feel guilty for it, if your feelings for Sanji were not equally deep and strong. You don't remember a day in which you didn't love him, ever since he risked your father's ire (and, consequently, the job he had just gotten) to feed you, there has always been a special place for him in your heart, a place no one else could ever occupy; Sanji is the other half of you, someone who you don't need in order to live but who you want to share your life with. Without him you could go on; but you know you'll never feel complete ever again.

And to express everything you feel -all the love, the joy that fills your heart when he's by your side and the hopes you cherish for your future together- you are unable to say more than...

"I love you too, Sanji."

... and that is more than a little frustrating.

You know what you share goes beyond physical attraction, but you can't deny it is flattering, and exciting, to know you can have that sort of effect on Sanji, a man attractive and charming enough he would have no troubles attracting a date; you sometimes think about the girls he meets at work, or the clients he could easily flirt with when he has to cover for a waiter at the restaurant, but you know he is being sincere when he swears you're the only one he cares about, and that he has never betrayed your trust. On the other hand, you are not good with words and Sanji doesn't care for expensive gifts, which makes you fear, sometimes, you could do more to prove how much you care for him, and how committed you are to your relationship; the truth is, you love him so much, a feeling deeper and more encompassing than anything you thought you would be able to feel, that you lack the words to express it, and any declaration, no matter how grandiose or romantic, would fall short of your actual feelings.

Then, you suddenly realize, maybe you shouldn't tell him; after all, like your father always says, actions do speak louder than words...

Sanji's stares, eyes wide open, as he sees you take off your camisole. A moment later, he hurries to unbutton your shirt, and you move to help him, and somehow, maybe because you're in a hurry or because your hands are shaking, you tear off a button.

"Oh, Gods..." you stutter, embarrassment filling you "I'm so sorry, I... I'll sew it back on, I promise..."

Sanji shakes his head, as if to say you needn't worry; he is a sight to behold, short of breath, his usually pale complexion turned pink with excitement - with lust. He looks at you, he looks at your hands still holding the two panels of his shirt, and orders:

"Tear it off."

"... what?"

"Rip it off me. (name), please, I want you to undress me."

"Are... are you sure?" you ask again; the idea is more than a little exciting, but the experienced seamstress and future fashion designer in you hesitates at the thought of ruining a perfectly serviceable item of clothing.

Sanji grins, desire and affection filling his brown eyes. "Yeah, sure; it's an old one. Please, darling..."

"As you wish..."

A sound of tearing and ripping fills the room, and a moment later Sanji's shirt, now missing every single of its buttons and irreparably damaged, lies on the floor, while he's naked from the waist up - and Gods, just looking at him is enough to make you forget any hesitancy you may have... including the ones regarding the presence of your father, in his bedroom at the other hand of the corridor.

He smiles, more than aware of the effect he's having on you, as he shamelessly stares back at your body. "Come here, my beauty." he invites you, and a moment later he has taken you in his arms once again, your hands moving on each other's newly exposed skin.

"Let's move to the bed." you propose in a whisper between kisses, and laugh softly as Sanji hurriedly picks you up, bridal style, to carry you and delicately lay you down on the light blue sheets of your bed. A minute to take off your shoes, and he has joined you; you are kissing again as he makes quick work of your bra's clasp, but Sanji stops to admire you, lying under him, and for a moment he seems unable to speak.

"You are so beautiful." he murmurs; he looks you in the eyes, to gauge your reaction and make sure he's not overstepping, before letting his hand brush against and then close around your breast "My (name)... I've waited for this moment since I was maybe twelve, you know?"

"You could have told me before."

"A gentleman never asks, he waits for the lady to offer."

You smile, shamelessly enjoying the sensuality of his touch, the delicious sensation of Sanji's warm hands caressing and stimulating and gently squeezing the warm flesh of your chest; he sees you jolt when the pad of his thumb finds your nipple, and smiles, and you smile with him.

"Well, this lady is offering." you point out a moment later; you want there to be no doubt or ambiguity about what you want "I want you, Sanji. Will you make love to me?"

Unexpectedly, and while you can see the desire in his eyes as he looks at you, he hesitates. "You know we don't have to do it." he softly points out "You don't... owe me anything; I don't want you to think this is something we need to do in order to make our relationship last, or since we have been together for a while..."

"I know. I... I just want to live this with you; I want you to be my first, as well the last. I want you, and I'm tired of hiding it."

"(name), I..."

"Sanji, please."

That last word, as well as the tone you utter it in, being begged to take you in his arms and make you scream, would make even the most dispassionate man forget himself, and Sanji is far from that. In a whisper, he asks you to lift your hips, and takes both your skirt and panties off; he licks his lips as he looks at you, as if anticipating what he is going to do to you, and delicately lifts your foot in his hands. His first kiss is placed on your ankle, and then the second at the bottom at your calf, and the third a bit above it, and then on your knee and on your thigh until Sanji is lying on the bed between your open legs, and the sensation of his tongue and hips doing magic on the most hidden part of you is so delicious, so lurid and at the same time heavenly, you have to press your hand to your mouth to keep yourself from screaming. You can feel the wave mounting inside you, and you couldn't stop it even if you wanted to, and a minute later your first real orgasm hits you, and you are shaking in Sanji's grasp as he licks you like a man starved, proud and excited by the pleasure he was able to give you.

Your eyes meet above your heaving chest; you are both smiling, breathless. "That was... amazing." you whisper, and Sanji grins as he reaches to kiss you once more, neither bothering about the taste.

"We have just started." he assures you "Will you help me with my clothes, darling?"

He stands from the bed to let you take his trousers off, smiling softly as he sees how your hands shake; a moment later he's finally naked, and you can't help gulping as you gently take his erection in your hand, heavy and hard. You swallow, and instinctively lower your face to it to lick the tip.

Sanji jumps. "Shit..."

"I'm sorry, I thought... that was ok..." you stammer, suddenly alarmed "Did I hurt you?"

"Hurt?" he repeats, completely breathless, as if he had never heard that word before "Quite... quite the opposite. I... (name), I..."

He can't find the words to describe what he wants, but thank God you know it already, and this is miles beyond what you had already experience in, but you must be naturally talented, or perhaps this is one of those things you simply know how to do. You keep Sanji's eyes in yours as you take his erection in your mouth, swallowing it almost to the base and using your lips, your tongue and even (cautiously) your teeth to give him pleasure; he moans, bucking his hips, his hands caressing your hair.

"God... you're so good, baby... you take me so well..."

Emboldened, you wish you could make him climax with your mouth, but Sanji asks you to stop after a while, smiling as he sees you pout. "As much as I love the feeling of your mouth, there is somewhere else I'd rather come." he tell you as he cleans your lips with his fingers "Let me take care of you."

A silent nod is the only answer you feel able to give, and the only one Sanji needed; your hand guides him back on the bed where, a slight and natural awkwardness covered by your kisses, Sanji lies above you, gently caressing your hair as he lifts your leg above his hips.

"I love you." you murmur; you feel barely able to breathe, but those words easily leave your lips, as natural as a breath "Sanji, let me be with you forever."

He smiles, pressing his forehead to yours; he isn't inside you yet, but the intimacy of that moment goes beyond what you could describe in words, the marvelous feeling of being one, a closeness born from love and passion and trust and empathy. You doubt you will ever feel anyone as close as Sanji is in that moment, and that makes you happy.

"Nothing and no one will ever come between us." he murmurs "I promise."

*****

You spend what feels like hours locked in an embrace, exchanging lazy but hot kisses as your hands explore each other's body. Your fondling makes Sanji grow turgid once more, and he has to use your pillow to suffocate his screaming (yes, screaming) as you do get to make him come in your mouth; he gets even a minute later when you both find out that you really enjoy your chest being sucked, which Sanji does until you are a moaning mess, begging for mercy, and he has to gift you your third orgasm, this time using his fingers, to make you calm down.

This night is perfect; this night feels as if it would never end. Unfortunately, this is not the case, and an hour before dawn, after he risked for the second time to fall asleep with his cheek pressed against your chest and your fingers in his hair, Sanji reluctantly abandons the warmth of your bed, and of your body, to get dressed. You both know it can't be helped; if your father discovered him in your bed, even now that you are an adult and about to go live on your own, the consequences would be catastrophic.

"Things will be different once we have moved to the capital." you reassure him as you pick up what is left of his shirt to throw it away "I want my dad to visit, but we can tell him we met again on campus and decided to date; he does like you, and he'll accept I am old enough to have a boyfriend."

"I hope he will." Sanji considers, as he ties his shoes; he hesitates for a moment, and then: "What if I wanted to tell him the truth?"

"You mean...?"

"About us, yes. I could have never given up on you, (name), but I didn't like lying to your father; I owe him so much, and I'd like give his blessing to our relationship. Don't you?"

Nothing would make you happier, even though, you must admit, the prospect of having to confess you have deliberately disobeyed him for five years is not pleasant; you love your father, and the last thing you have ever wanted was to disappoint him, even though there is no price you wouldn't have paid if it meant being with Sanji. You admire the fact your boyfriend wants to be honest with his benefactor, and you need - no, you want to be as brave as he is.

"Then we will tell him."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. It's not going to be pretty, and I know he'll be very angry, but he deserves the truth. We all do." you point out with a sigh; then, seeing Sanji is almost done getting dressed: "Wait..."

You stand as well, and walk to the mannequin wearing the men's shirt, an elegant light blue model with white collar and cuffs. You return to Sanji to offer him the shirt. "Here, wear this."

"... are you sure?"

"Of course, I had planned to give it to you to celebrate your admission to the Baratie. Try it on, let me see how it looks on you."

It looks great, even though it is perhaps more because of Sanji's good looks and physique than anything else; he carefully buttons it, and happily looks at himself in the full-length mirror. "My favourite tie will go perfectly with this."

"I know, why do you think I chose this colour?"

Naked as you are, you don't feel cold, especially as you feel Sanji's gaze lingering on your body as his brown eyes admire the flesh he has lost himself in just two hours ago, but that he's not yet sated by.

Soon, your smile tells him as you return the gaze, committing the beauty of his lithe but strong body to memory, as soon as we have moved to our dormitories, or as soon as my father has to leave for one of his work trips. I want you again too; I think I'll never stop wanting you.

As usual Sanji seems to understand you without the need for words, because he smiles once more and, as soon as he is done admiring himself in the mirror (which you cannot blame him for; the shirt does look amazing on him!) he takes your face in his hands to kiss you once more. "I am so happy." he murmurs "Happy we got to share this moment. I... I do want to be with you forever, but..."

"... but you are happy I was your first, and you mine. I know, Sanji; I feel the same."

You spend a precious minute like this, your foreheads touching, your fingers intertwined, as you breathe in each other's air and savour that new form of intimacy. In this moment, you are not afraid Sanji can doubt your feelings anymore; but in any case, you promise yourself, you'll still make sure he knows how much you love him, every day from now to eternity.

In the end, it's time for your boyfriend to go. He takes his backpack and insists you put your nightgown on, in case one of the neighbours looks out of their windows, before you accompany him on the balcony, where a last kiss sees him climb over the parapet and cautiously reach the tree's closest branches.

"Thanks for the cake! It was really delicious."

Sanji winks at you, mischievousness dancing in his eyes. "I think you thanked me enough already."

"Oh, you are so vulgar..."

Your laugh follows him as Sanji quickly climbs down the tree, finally reaching the ground safe and sound; he looks up at you and waves, and you wave back, and "I'll be back soon; I promise." he says, and you nod as he starts walking away, and remain where you are until Sanji has disappeared, hidden in the murmuring darkness surrounding the villa.

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Uh, so, I saw this kickass piece of fanart by @thwipped and whoops, innit:

---

If caught and asked about it, Jamie couldn’t have explained why he did it.

Actually, no. Scratch that.

He could have explained, probably. He just wouldn’t have cared to.

---

The way it goes is this:

He’s been with Richmond for a couple of months and haven’t those been the longest fucking months of his life, because yeah, ‘course it’s fun being the best fucking player on the team, ‘course it’s fun hearing the fans chant his name, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo, and getting a bit of rest from his dad ain’t bad either, but Richmond is a shit club with a shit manager and the only fucking bright spot—

Well. That’s turned out to be shit too, hasn’t it.

At least Jamie’s killing it, at matches, at training, every fucking time he steps onto the pitch. No one can fucking touch him, dominating yeah, and today’s been a good day for it too, what with the photographer on the sidelines snapping picture after picture for some promo or other. Jamie didn’t pay too much attention to the details, just made sure they got him from his best angle (every angle’s his best angle), and that’s that, until a couple of days later when he walks past Hopkins’ (or Huggles’?) empty office and sees the photos spread out all across the desk.

And well. ‘Course he steps inside to have a look. Bound to be a bunch of him looking fit as fuck, right, and who doesn’t want to see that, and maybe he can grab one for Keeley, bet she’d love it.

There is a bunch of him looking fit as fuck, no surprise there. Difficult to choose the best one really, they’re all fucking brilliant  (‘cause he’s fucking brilliant), and he’s deliberating between an action shot of him about to score one of the prettiest goals this sad fuck of a club ever saw and a shot of him afterwards, chin raised against he blue autumn sky like a hero out of a movie or something. Gorgerous, innit.

And then his eyes fall on a picture of Roy.

A picture of Roy fucking Kent. And. Like. It’s not even anything special, not like Roy’s actually doing anything in it, it's just a stray shot of him caught unawares with his shirt raised to wipe the seat of his forehead and he’s—

He’s. Uh.

Fuck. Jamie stares and he stares and he stares because for all that his old attraction to Roy didn’t survive five fucking minutes of actually being in the same room as the man, that’s just—

The shorts riding low on his hips. The dark hair trailing down and down, and the glistening drops of sweat on his forehead and Jamie can fucking smell him and that’s not sexy, is it, except it really fucking is, and those arms, and something unguarded and vulnerable and the real Roy Kent is a royal cunt but the Roy Kent in the picture—

He’s something else, isn’t he. He’s fucking fit. (Okay, the real Roy Kent is that, too, but it kind of fades in the face of him being an insufferable old twat and all that.)

Jamie grabs the picture. Doesn’t let himself think too much about it. Shoves it in his pocket and walks away, feeling it burn, burn, burn against his side.

---

When Jamie was twelve his mum gave him a poster of Roy Kent and Jamie was over the fucking moon. When Jamie was twenty-three he met Roy Kent and Roy Kent glared at him with unmitigated disgust and okay, fuck you too, mate. You’re not even that good anymore, and still you expect everyone to fall at your fucking feet, do your fucking bidding and make like you’re the fucking king, and fuck that, the king is dead, old man; long live the king.

Thing is, looking at the picture now it’s not that hard to forget about the real Roy Kent (nasty bastard) and remember the Roy Kent (fucking legend) that looked down on Jamie from his bedroom wall and whispered encouragements in the back of Jamie’s head and, a little later, featured frequently in fantasies of a different sort.

Picture in one hand, cock in the other, Jamie wanks to Roy for the first time since he came to Richmond (and if it’s not all just the memories of the man he once imagined, if it’s a little bit tinged with dark looks and growls and Roy snarling his name like it’s an insult… Well. That’s nobody’s business, that.)

---

He keeps the photos in the bottom drawer in his bedroom and he doesn’t pull it out a lot, ‘cause there’s Keeley and she’s fucking fit and the sex is mindblowing and Jamie doesn’t need to gawk at pictures of sad old has-beens to get his rocks off.  

Sometimes there’s a different sort of itch, though, and he scratches it. No big deal.

(He wonders sometimes, what the real Roy would say if he knew. Plays it out in his mind, all the different ways it might go. Cums as he imagines it.)

He thinks maybe Keeley would like the picture too. Not ‘cause she’d like Roy, she’s got way better taste than that, and she’s fun and she likes a bit of fun and if there’s one thing Roy Kent ain’t, it’s fun, innit. But he’s fit and all, and Keeley’s got eyes.

He imagines it, sometimes, the two of them getting off together over the picture. If Roy – the real Roy – wasn’t such a miserable old prick, he’d suggest it to her maybe. But Roy is such a miserable old prick, and the whole thing is way too complicated to explain, so he doesn’t.

Then Keeley dumps him and the dream was only ever that.

---

They send him back to City. Jamie doesn’t understand. One moment he’s sharing a bottle of tequila with Dani Rojas and taking up the Richmond chant and Jamie’s not wrong and for the first time he wonders if maybe there could be something for him here, and the next he’s woken up by his agent and that same evening he’s back in Manchester like he never left, only the stale air in the house he bought with his fifth paycheck tells him he did, and the numb sense of loss as he steps through the door tells him he did.

It’s months before he gets everything from London shipped and sorted. Busy getting up to speed with everything at the club and all. It’s good to be back, really, a proper team, a proper coach, all that. Dad starts getting in touch again, sure, but it is what it is.

So yeah, it’s months before he gets all his stuff unpacked and months before his fingers brush over something familiar and he stands there staring down on the picture or Roy and it’s odd because it seems like only yesterday he first saw it and it seems a lifetime ago.

A rush of lust – Pavlovian, right, Keeley? – but a rush of something else too, rusted barb wire tugging at his guts, sharp and sickening.

He looks at it for a long time and then he puts it away and this time he doesn’t take it out again. That’s over and done with.  

(Only, he doesn’t throw it away either. Just lets it sit in a neglected drawer, ignored but never let go, like all the other things that must never be.)

---

(There’ll be a time, some years later, boxes packed and moved and unpacked and an old photo slipping to the floor and

what the fuck is this?

and

what’s that, babe? oh my god, you look hot! fucking hell! jamie, where did you even get this?

and

when did you get this? i’m still playing here

and

uh, well, you remember that photo shoot they did for the promo just a couple of months after i joined richmond?

and a raised eyebrow and

yeah?

and a shrug and cheeky grin and

yeah, well, picked it up for darts practise, didn’t I

and Roy snorts but he’s smiling too and

figures you’d be shit at darts

and

what are you on about, man, i’m aces at darts… ooh, because there’s no holes in it you mean, yeah, no, you’re right, you’re right, i’m shit at darts, fucking terrible

and they’re both smiling now and Keeley is too and Roy notes how it’s clearly been handled a lot and what were you doing with it really and the glint in his eyes says he knows but Jamie tells him – tells them – anyway, in great, great detail.)

[celestialrry]

I wish you would write a fic where...

the main character is the daughter of a really important producer harry is working with and he has a major crush on her but 1) he doesn’t want her dad to feel like he’s taking advantage of her 2) she has a rule of not dating musicians

too young

OOOOOOHHHHHH

HIIII GUYS..... i started school again and honestly for the longest time i've had no inspiration to write but then i got this ask!!! (thank you for your patience anon ily) and was like i love this prompt but then i wrote the first part and had no idea how to continue it,,, but I finally finished it!! ε(♡'-')з (this is me giving you all my love and affection for sticking with me) 

(NOT EDITED)

2k

warnings: alcohol consumption

Harry was in a dilemma.

Usually, he could sweep all his issues under the rug, save them for another day, but this one... he couldn't do that. Not because he didn't want to, but because this problem was more than just a dust bunny on his hardwood floor.

Y/N was the problem.

Or to be more precise, his feelings for Y/N were the problem.

Harry had confidence when it came to his crushes. He was smooth, flirty, and snagged almost every single person he's caught feelings for.

But not Y/N.

No, she was almost unreachable, for quite a few reasons.

One, the only reason he knew her, met her, was through a producer he had been working with the past few months. Arlo was massive in the industry and Harry was flattered when Arlo approached him with interest in collaborating. And only a month into working together, he met Y/N.

Harry's head snapped towards the door that had just burst open, a girl barging into the studio that he had never seen before. She was gorgeous, he had to admit, but he couldn't ignore her blatant disrespect for coming in and making a scene while he, Arlo, and a few of his bandmates were working annoyed him to no end.

"Dad! Oh my god, you will not believe what just happened, I was on my way over here and I fucking bumped into Zach," The girl began ranting, approaching Arlo and huffing as she stood next to Arlo's chair. "Of all fucking people I could see just walking down the street, it had to be him. The world is against me today I swear. Anyways, I brought that drum pad you wanted."

She dug into her big brown bag that was slung over her shoulder and pulled out the music board, placing it on the table in front of Arlo.

"Where'd you see him, Y/N? We're about to go on break and I can leave and go kick his ass in," Arlo checked his watch. "7 minutes."

Y/N, Harry now knew her as, sighed and crossed her arms. "He's long gone by now, think he shit his pants when he saw me walking near him."

"Atta girl, thanks for bringing my board too," Arlo smiled up at her from his chair. He then turned to see Harry, and Mitch staring at the two of them. "Oh sorry guys, this is my daughter, Y/N. Y/N, this is Harry and Mitch."

She turned to look at them and smiled wide. "Nice to meet you!"

"You too." They both said in unison, looking at each other with a smile, before focusing back on Y/N.

"We'll be done soon, if you wanna go out and get lunch." Arlo said, turning back to his daughter.

"Sounds good, just text me," Y/N replied, giving him a smile before turning back to the boys. "Nice meeting you guys, again."

And before they could even respond she was gone.

Two, Y/N was younger than him. 6 years younger to be exact. It didn't seem like much, but when put into perspective, she was 21, only just being legally allowed to drink in the States, and Harry was 27. Practically 30, if you ask him, and he was positive Arlo would have his head if he found out Harry liked his daughter. 

And three, she doesn't date the people her dad works with. 

He had found this out one night when he, Arlo, Y/N, Mitch, and a couple other writers were hanging out at the studio, drinking some wine (she had even exclaimed that this would be her first time drinking red, and Harry was yet again reminded of her age) and chatting after a long day of working. 

Harry and Mitch were laughing with Arlo about the first time they met Y/N, and her comments about this “Zach” guy. 

“He’s my ex, and had worked with my dad on one shitty song that never got far because he’s just so-- music is just not his thing, to put it nicely. But he was an absolute asshole and after him I made rule to never date anyone Dad works with. It would just go terribly.” She explained, letting Arlo take a few more jabs at the guy before stopping him.

So yeah, Harry was in a dilemma. 

In all the time he’d known Y/N, he just kept falling for her. She was kind, funny, beautiful, lit up any room she walked into, and treated Harry like fine porcelain. 

She was just fucking perfect. 

｡:°ஐ

Y/N had probably been in a lot of worse positions than the predicament she was in now.

For example, that time her dad walked in on her and her ex making out in the studio, or her 21st birthday when she got completely wasted and almost got into the wrong car instead of her uber, and the next day found out that the man driving that car was actually a convicted criminal.

So there’s worse things that could happen than her liking Harry.

But it doesn't mean it wasn’t bad.

The thing is, Y/N didn’t fall for anyone easily. Her one and only ex Zach treated her like a queen until he could officially claim her as his. The flowers he gave her before every date remained at the shop and the consistent compliments turned into insults and muttered claims of discontentment. 

Hence why he was her ex. It took Y/N quite a long time to work up the courage to end things with him. He was her first kiss, first time, and first boyfriend. She was yet to find her first love, she never really loved Zach. The way he used to treat her in the beginning, she thinks she loved, but him? No, she would never call him her first love. 

So when Y/N’s time crush on Harry began to develop into real feelings in such a short span of time, it terrified her. She had really never felt this way about someone before; butterflies would erupt in her stomach every time he shot her a smile and her mind would erupt into pure chaos when his body brushed up against her own. 

So yeah, it could be worse, but it certainly wasn't good.

｡:°ஐ

Y/N enjoyed spending time at the studio with her dad, and surprisingly, spending time with her dad’s “co-workers”. Even though she didn't usually hang out with the pop stars and spent time mostly with the backing band/producers (they were usually 50 year old men, but they were pretty nice) she enjoyed herself fully, having lunch breaks and talking about where their children when to school and whatnot. 

Sometimes though, every blue moon, Y/N would hang out with a super star her dad was working with. Usually when most stars are at the studio all they did was record, which was understandable, but she never had the chance to meet a lot of them.

With Harry though, everything was different. It wasn’t just lunches at the studio, or dinner at someone’s house, no, tonight they were going out to a bar. 

It was completely unexpected too, they had just wrapped up a song, and Harry, being in a particularly good mood had yelled out about going to a bar to celebrate. Of course, Y/N ignored his shout, knowing she wasn’t invited, and after Arlo had said something about “not being able to party as much as I used to”, she gave her dad a hug good night and waved a little goodbye to the band. 

“Wait!” Harry had exclaimed, chasing after her in the hallway. “Where are y’going?”

Y/N’s eyes widened and she looked behind her before looking back at Harry. “I was just gonna head back home.”

Harry’s head tilted, and looked at her questionably. “Y’not comin’ to the bar with us?” He practically pouted.

Her brows shot up in surprise. “Oh! I- yeah I’ll go out with you guys.”

Which lead her here, decently tipsy, and sitting in a booth between Harry and Sarah, laughing at a story Adam had been telling. Every now and then she would glance over to Harry just to find his gaze already on her.

Her heart fluttered every time, and if Harry’s cheeks weren’t already flushed from the alcohol, Y/N would have noticed him blush every time they locked eyes as well. 

“M’gonna get another drink, does anyone want anything?” Y/N piped up, a resounding chorus of “no, thank you’s” answering her question. Except for Harry who spoke softly, “A beer? Go ahead and put it on my tab.”

She shook her head at him as he stood up to let her out of the maroon leather booth. “Can’t make you pay for that, I offered.” She said, standing to lock eyes with him yet again. 

“Nope,” He grinned. “You can, and you will.”

“But-”

“No buts.” He chuckled, giving her a dimpled smile.

Accepting her defeat she nodded and squeezed his arm with a murmured “Thank you.” before making her way to the bar.

Harry sat back down again, eyes trailing her figure as she walked away before looking back at the table to be met with knowing eyes. 

“What is it?” He asked, glancing around at everyone.

“You’re whipped, mate.” Charlotte grinned, everyone else nodding in agreement.

“What?! I am not.” Harry pouted, eyes flicking over to Y/N, who was making her way to the table, one drink in each hand, before back to everyone else. 

“She’s really sweet H, you should go for it.” Mitch said.

Harry shook his head, eyes now on Mitch. “I’m not interested in her like that, she’s way too young for me, anyways.”

Just then did he hear the soft hit of his beer and her cosmo land on the table. His gaze trailed up her hands to see Y/N’s shattered face. “Here.” She practically whispered to him.

“I just remembered I have an early class tomorrow, so I should go, but thank you guys for inviting me out.” Y/N explained in lighting speed as she leaned over Harry to grab her purse and toss is over her shoulder. 

Words of confusion were tossed around the table but she was already booking it out of there, leaving Harry just as devastated as she was.

“I think she heard you, H.” Sarah said, frowning. 

Harry let out a muttered “Fuck!” before taking out large bills from his wallet and tossing it on the table. “For my tab, m’sorry, I gotta go.” And he left just as fast as Y/N did, weaving through the tables and people before bursting out the door to see her standing on the street, arm wrapped around her waist and another holding her phone.

“Y/N!”

Her head whipped around to see Harry bustling towards her and she quickly wiped her eye as he approached.

“Wait, don't go,” He said, struggling to find the words. “We all want you to stay, I want you to stay.”

“I have to get to class Harry, plus, I’m too young to be staying out this late anyways.” She grimaced at her own words. 

He sighed, eyes flickering from her own to her lips then back again. “I-fuck, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

This time, she fully turned to face him, brows knitted in distress. “Then how did you mean it? Because honestly I don’t think there is another way to mean it.”

This was his only chance, Harry knew it. 

“I just, I tried for so long to tell myself it was wrong to feel this way about you because you’re so much younger than me, and m’pretty sure your father would have my head if he knew but m’fucking infatuated with you, Y/N. M’so sorry I said that earlier, age is my only excuse for not asking you out and it’s not a good enough excuse anymore.”

With this her mouth was gaped like a fish, and her face was akin to a deer caught in headlights. In a flash her arms were wrapped around his neck and he was holding her waist, reveling in her touch. 

“Oh, Harry,” She pulled away. “I really like you too.” And with that she pressed a swift kiss to his cheek, leaving him a blushing mess. 

“Good, thats... thats good.” He stammered.

“So,” she nudged his arm. “Y’gonna ask me out now?”

[maggies-scribblings]

Yarning For Her

Adrien is smitten with the girl who's always been there, in the row behind him. But when his plans to ask Marinette out unravel, a secret throws him for a loop…

Written for the Miraculous Writer's Guild April Event 2021: Followers sent five emojis as prompts to the @mlwritersguild Tumblr for the writers to pick one to write for. I chose the emojis sent by @ladycat1: ✨ 😊 👀 👩🏻 🧵

Canon compliant up to Season 4, Episode 4: M. Pigeon 72.

👩🏻

It was finally happening. The event everyone was waiting for… well, everyone except the main protagonist of said event.

Marinette could feel it, though she could hardly believe it. She noticed Adrien looking at her with more intensity, when he thought she wasn’t looking. How he had trouble finding the right words when talking to her. All the tiny gestures of attention, like offering to help with a difficult subject or a complex art project, or praising her outfit every day, even if she’d worn it several times before.

Nino could tell, too: questions about Marinette and her favourite colour, food, flower, or whatever else were whispered in his right ear all day.

Actually, the whole class noticed Adrien’s marked change in behaviour. His cheerful hellos were now stuttered in Marinette’s general direction. His head hid on his shoulders whenever Marinette sighed or yawned, as if his neck couldn’t handle her fresh breaths. Even his athletic skills were now replaced with an unexplained jerkiness. The fact that the weather was warmer and the girls’ gym suits gave way to short shorts and strappy tops might have had something to do with it.

In short, Adrien fell in love with Marinette. Hard.

👀

When it started, Adrien couldn’t exactly tell. Ever since that first day of school, Marinette had held a special space in his heart (most of which had been stolen by Ladybug the previous day). She was one of his first and dearest friends.

But now… after getting to know Marinette, her loving and kind nature, after seeing her helping others without asking for anything back, after finally noticing how pretty she was… he wasn’t so sure.

That day at the pool was definitely a turning point.

First there was that unplanned double dive. During those milliseconds when they were falling, Adrien’s thought process went something like this:

Danger!—Why is Marinette here?—Protect!—Wow, she looks so cute in that swimsuit!

As they hit the water, their arms instinctively reached out to the other as they sank, swirling back up to the surface in a soft embrace — just like that night in New York, when they had danced floating in the air, under the full moon.

And when they were leaving the pool, Adrien was so happy and surprised to see she still had the umbrella he’d given her way back then! Sweet as always, she offered to give it back to him, even though it was raining and she had to walk home.

She was standing next to him (she linked her arm in his!) when that pesky umbrella decided to close on them, and they were pulled even closer for a few seconds. Very close. He could smell the chlorine in her hair mixed with the scent of sweets that always surrounded her. He thought he felt her heart beating faster and faster. Maybe it wasn’t. His heart certainly was. He could feel her warm breath through his shirt, and it drove him a little crazy.

When they said goodbye that day, he could hardly take his eyes off her. He even bumped his head on the car door frame. Ladies and gentlemen, here’s the charming, elegant model Adrien Agreste, unable to enter a car (come to think of it, he seemed to have a bit of a problem with doors whenever Marinette was around).

✨

The few weeks that went by did nothing to sort out Adrien’s feelings about the two black-haired girls in his life. His days were mortifying, his nights restless. On one such night, Adrien tossed and turned, but sleep wouldn’t come. The full moon and bright stars shining through the window frames painted his room with grid patterns, a constant reminder of his confined life.

Adding to that, his mind was racing with memories of his (now frequent) clumsiness and embarrassment at school. He recalled the fumble of the day: going into the classroom while trying to look cool, he managed to snag his bag strap on the door handle, causing him to jerk back and hit the ground on his butt in front of the whole class.

Adrien groaned and turned again. Worst thing was, he had no idea how she felt for him. She kept sending mixed signals. Her behaviour towards him wasn’t as weird as it had been, but that didn’t mean a lot. He’d even asked her a couple of times. He remembered the time they visited the wax museum, when she said she didn’t like him like that.

“What’s the matter, kid?” Plagg yawned from his side of the pillow, annoyed by his bearer’s restlessness. “Who is it this time? Spots or bakery girl?”

Adrien didn’t bite, going back into his musings instead.

His mind turned to Ladybug… These days, Spots occupied a much smaller part of his thoughts. He still got the occasional butterflies in his stomach when he saw her, or when she praised him and his humour. She would always be his first love, and not an easy girl to forget… but she was right, of course — she was always right — as long as they had enemies, they couldn’t reveal their identities, much less deepen their relationship. Back when Bunnyx first showed up, they found out that there would be a new Hawkmoth and countless akumas in the future, and who knew when that would end?

Plagg was still grumbling about sleep and cheese. Adrien playfully flicked his kwami’s ear.

“Shut up, Plagg! I’m trying to sleep!”

“Very unsuccessfully, I might say,” Plagg flew out of his reach. “You sighed four-hundred and fifty-eight times in the last hour.”

“Come on… can’t you see I’m in turmoil here?” Adrien turned his back to the kwami. It was no use arguing with a deity, no matter how minuscule.

“Four-hundred and fifty-ni—” Plagg’s teasing was interrupted by a pillow hitting him.

😊

This wouldn’t do. Adrien couldn’t stand his own indecisiveness any more. He decided to ask Marinette out, that very day. After a reviving shower, he got dressed and looked in the mirror. The dark circles around his eyes were evident, but he hated wearing concealer to school. He might as well add a couple of details to his usual get-up: a pair of Gabriel’s new collection sunglasses and his favourite blue scarf.

He arrived at school early, and while most of the class was either chatting in the courtyard or going into the classroom, Marinette was nowhere to be seen. Adrien went into the locker room, and lurked behind the last row of lockers while students got in, got their things and left.

Finally, the hurricane that was late-for-class-Marinette thundered in, scolding herself for oversleeping as she got her books for the morning. When she closed the door, there was Adrien, leaning against the cabinets with his best Chat Noir smirk as he looked over the rim of his sunglasses and greeted her.

“Good morn—”

He didn’t have time to finish his line, as a very startled Marinette squeaked and grabbed his free arm to spin him around and pin him to the lockers with an elbow to his throat.

It took a few moments for Adrien realise exactly what had happened, before she released her hold.

“I’m sorry, I… panicked,” Marinette said, as she stepped back and continued to gesticulate wildly and mumble more awkward apologies.

Still frozen in place, Adrien managed to adjusted his crooked sunglasses.

“Marin—” he had to clear his throat. “No, I— It’s o-ow!”

Adrien tried and failed to step forward, as he heard a ripping sound — his scarf was caught in Marinette’s locker, and the momentum slammed him back into the metal doors with a loud bang.

The proverbial stars that blurred his vision cleared up to show Marinette very close to him, fumbling with the lock to release the scarf.

“Sorry, so sorry, I’m such a klutz!”

“It’s okay, no harm do—”

Adrien stopped talking when he saw that the scarf had a large rip, disappointment obvious upon his face.

“Oh no!” Marinette covered her mouth as she saw the damage. “Your scarf! I ruined it!”

At this point, Adrien would usually smile and say something like ‘it’s okay’ or ‘no worries’, but he couldn’t lie: he really loved that scarf. It was his favourite colour, warm and cosy, yet light enough to wear on a spring day, and a rare thoughtful gift from his father. He pouted a little as his fingers traced the tear.

“I can fix it!”

He lifted his eyes to Marinette as she got on her tiptoes to unwind the scarf from his neck.

“I can make it look as good as new. I know you’re worried, after all it’s your dad’s birthday gift,” she rambled as she delicately folded it, “but I have leftover yarn— I mean, I think I have the same colour, and it’s a simple pattern.”

There was something odd about the way she worded that, but Adrien dismissed it. He must have made a weird face, because now she had a concerned expression.

“I mean, if you trust me with it… I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t after I destroyed it. ”

“No—I mean, don’t be silly, it was an accident… I shouldn’t have sneaked up on you like that!” He managed a relieved little smile. “Still, my father might be upset if he saw I ripped it. Are you sure you can fix it?”

Marinette’s eyes averted his for a moment, as she returned the folded up scarf.

“I’ll do my best! I’m not a pro like your father, but I’m sure I can make it as good as new in no time at all!”

They agreed to go to Marinette’s place after school so that she could start working on it right away, then ran off to class as the second bell rang.

Not exactly the way I planned it, Adrien thought as he scrambled onto his seat, but I guess it worked!

🧵

Adrien reclined in the chaise-longue and looked around Marinette’s bedroom. It was the total opposite of his, huge and aseptic and cold. On the contrary, these walls had warm colours and pictures everywhere, and it smelled amazing, fruity shampoo mixed with glue and ink from her many design projects, mixed with sweets from the bakery, and everything about it was so welcoming and cosy and so… Marinette.

“Yes!” Her delighted voice interrupted his reveries. “I knew I still had it!”

Adrien chuckled as he saw Marinette triumphantly holding a ball of light blue yarn, then get several needles from her yarn basket and sit at her sewing station to start working. He switched seats to her desk chair and rolled close to her.

“Can I help?”

“Sure! Let me just…”

Marinette picked up a long, thin knitting needle and started to thread it on the scarf, just above the tear. She was so concentrated and her movements so careful and precise, she might as well be defusing a bomb. Adrien noticed her tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth and wondered what her kisses would taste like.

“There. I have the brakes on, now let’s get going.”

Marinette found the end stitch at the corner of the scarf and cut it. Giving Adrien the end of the yarn, she continued.

“Hold this. Make a ball while I unravel it.”

“Huh? Un-what?” Much as Adrien trusted her skills, he panicked. “Won’t you make it worse?”

“No, because I’m holding the knitting with this,” she pointed at the longer needle she had threaded through the scarf.

Marinette turned her chair, so they were sitting face to face, knees almost touching, and started to quickly unravel the bottom part of the scarf, while he rolled up the thread in a ball, both enjoying the comfortable silence. He noticed a small piece of fabric falling from one of the edges and bent down to pick it up.

“What’s this?” Adrien thought out loud while examining it.

As soon as Marinette lifted her eyes from her work and saw what he was holding, her eyes went wide and her cheeks red.

“Oh, it’s nothing—” she tried unsuccessfully to snatch the fabric from his hand. “Probably just the washing inst—”

It was not an ordinary washing instructions tag. It was tiny and had been woven into the knitting, so discreetly he’d never noticed it before. He turned the fabric over to see a recognisable signature.

Marinette

“Wait— you made this?” Adrien picked up the other end of the scarf from her lap and examined like he’d never seen it before. “Wha—? How? D-did my father buy it off your website?”

So that’s why she was so confident about fixing it. He searched Marinette’s face for an explanation, but she just shook her head and kept looking down, unravelling the loops one by one.

“No— of course not— your site wasn't set up back then, we only took those photos later…”

Adrien thought back to the time Nathalie handed him the present, neatly packed in a box with a ribbon. He’d never seen that kind of care in his father’s presents, just standard gift bags with expensive pens, straight from a corporate catalogue. His train of thought was broken by a couple of tears falling on his hands.

“Marinette…” he murmured, lifting her chin to look into her misty eyes. “Did you make this for me?”

She nodded with a tiny smile. He moved his hand from her chin to cup her cheek, wiping her tears with his thumb.

“Was this supposed to be your present for me?” Another nod. “How did this mess happen then?”

“I…” Marinette had to clear her throat and finally looked at him. Something in her eyes changed from avoidance to determination. “I wanted to give it to you personally, but I couldn’t gather the nerve… then one thing led to another, and I left it in your house, and I even signed it, but…” she shrugged.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just… couldn’t. You were so happy with the present from your dad. I couldn’t ruin it for you.”

Adrien made a mental note to find out exactly what had happened, then set all his negative feelings aside. His heart was too full of love to think about anything other than the girl in front of him.

“Oh, Marinette…” he softly chided as he hugged her. How could this girl be so selfless, on top of everything else? She cared for him, really cared for him, even back then. “I wish you’d told me.”

He released the hug and pulled her closer, into his lap. Marinette set the scarf on the sewing table and put her arms around his neck. Her tears were gone and a hint of a smile played on her lips.

“That way,” Adrien caressed her nose with his, “I would have thanked you properly.”

“Oh yeah?” Marinette breathed, her lips very close to his. “You can thank me now.”

They closed the distance between them, their lips melding into a sweet kiss, then another, and then a few more. Adrien’s heart was beating so fast he could hardly bear it. Then he remembered he should probably breathe at some point.

“Wow.”

“Wow.”

“If that’s the way you thank a person for a present, I’ll start giving them more often,” Marinette joked.

“Not anyone.” He pecked her lips. “Only you.”

They kissed again, this time more passionately. He kissed her eyes, the tip of her nose, her forehead, her neck, then back up to her lips…

The scarf was left forgotten on the sewing table. It could wait a few more hours before repairing.

Fin

Thanks to @hari-writes and @deinde-prandium for the beta read! ❤️

Constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated. English is not my first language and I tend to use UK English. If you catch any inconsistencies, please let me know.

My AO3. My Twitter. My Instagram.

[leonsmommykink]

I'm sorry for asking for another request, you just did a remarkable job, that I just can't resist. No more asking for requests from you, I promise.

Can you do where a scared S/O was pregnant with Thomas Hewitt and was too scared to tell him, since she's worried about what the rest of his family think? Thomas would be grateful of course, but because he's the S/O's lover, he'd be more protective over his S/O and future baby from the people around her, especially Hoyt.

Then later when an S/O was going into labor, Luda Mae helps by delivering the baby with Thomas as his S/O's breathing coach and letting her grip his hand.

You can choose the baby's gender and name if you want.

thank you so so much! <3 always feel free to request i love writing these :)

i didn’t check over this so there’s a possibility of errors in this!!

tw: hoyt says horrible things :/

you were over the moon to find out you were pregnant, but still ultimately terrified

sure you and thomas have had conversations about starting a family, but they were always very brief and left you wondering if thomas really wanted kids

your goal was to hide it for as long as you could. hopefully long enough it figure out what you wanted to do in regards to telling tommy

however, things don’t go out as planned. thomas found out eventually when you were looking at your small but slowly forming bump in the mirror

he was so so happy. he had a big smile and tears slowly forming bc he was finally gonna be a dad aw :( <3

after a discussion, you both decided to hide the pregnancy for as long as y’all could because y’all thought the family would support you both, and mainly because of hoyt

we all know he’s a jerk, but you both were afraid his shit attitude would amplify as the baby grew and you knew if you let the whole family know except for him then he’d have a fuss.

y’all did a good job at hiding it too. when you grew more and started showing in your normal clothes thomas would let you use his clothes since they were so big and baggy. you already wore tommy’s clothes a lot when your clothes were in the process of laundry so it wasn’t anything out of the blue

eventually word did get out. you and tommy were discussing baby names and luda mae overheard. of course she was so happy to have a grand child and was happy to help you every step of the way, monty was iffy, and hoyt just lost it

he thought this baby was just another mouth to feed. he blamed you for it too. thomas protected you from his harsh words, he would grab hoyt by his collar and basically drag him to a different room away from you. he’d do this any time hoyt gave you lip

after that everything ran smoothly up to your birth. luda and thomas helped with the birth, it was a rough one since y’all basically lived in the middle of nowhere so it had to be performed at home. luda was very professional and told thomas everything he needed to help out with.

after almost a whole day, you gave birth to your beautiful twin daughters clementine and rosalie hewitt.

[thorns-and-rosewings]

Carnage x Shriek AU Headcanons Part 2

Yeah sorry about how long it took to get these up, but here is the second part to my previously posted headcanons about the murder family. And yeah this round of fluff will have them becoming parents and how they manage that.

Enjoy! :)

-Frances is a lot less murderous than Cletus and Carnage are, but nonetheless while she lacks a desire to murder people herself, she is actually fine with her hubby's murderous impulses, not to mention Carnage's dietary needs.

-That being said she has no issues killing if truly provoked, or if her loves need backup.

-Carnage likes cats and there are two in particular that he insisted on keeping.

-He named them Bonnie and Clyde.

-Inevitably when the two cats had kittens, every kitten is named after a famous murderer. Bundy, Gacy etc...

-Once they settled into their new house, Frances learned how to cook in order to make Cletus his favorite meals.

-She actually became a pretty good at it and enjoys cooking for her family.

-But it was right when they were planning to go after Eddie, Venom and Mulligan that something... Unexpected... Upset those plans...

-Shriek became pregnant.

-Oh boy Cletus was a nervous wreck, Frances admittedly wasn't much better... Carnage was the only one who wasn't worrying.

-Of course he needed the talk that human babies aren't like Symbiotes and in Kasadys own words: "Babies ain't ready to go right out of the box like you were."

- "So they're like the kittens?"

- "It's gonna take me many years to forget you said that..."

-Didn't entirely understand until the day that the child was being born....

-It was a home birth with a local doctor kidnapped in order to deliver the baby.

-Carnage left Cletus's body and went into Clyde until this was over... As Shriek was understandably screaming her head off in pain.

-They had a little girl.

-They named her Abigail Poison Kasady.

-Carnage picked her middle name.

-Cletus had secretly been hoping for a girl so he was over the moon.

-Physically Abigail will resemble a perfect blend of her parents features, but her traits that will stand out the most will be the piercing blue eyes she gets from her father, and the natural red streaks that will emerge over time in her ebony hair.

-Admittedly it took Carnage a while to warm up to the child.

-In the beginning whenever she would cry the symbiote would yell 'The alarm is going off again!' and hop bodies into whoever wasn't going to tend the crying baby.

-He got annoyed with the baby a lot. But one day when his face growls at her... The baby just laughs and reaches up for him.

-That was... surprising... but in a good way.

-After that Carnage truly started warming up to the spawn, and by the time she is 4 he is as protective of her as Cletus and Frances.

-Needless to say, this kid had an interesting upbringing.

-In spite of the horrifying reputation of her parents, Abby was raised with love and never once doubted her parents loved her.

-From a young age she shows no fear of anything, even things that would harm her. This comes from her complete faith in her parents protecting her.

-She would run as fast as she could at the large staircase in the front of the house and jump down it, always completely certain her dad would catch her.

-And he always did...

-Well, all except for one time where Cletus and Carnage both got distracted by Shriek asking them a quick question from another room and Abby went splat.

-She was fine though and bribed with an ice-pop not to tell her mom 😅

-Abby is a huge daddy's girl. (Both of them)

-Cletus taught her how to shoot a rifle at the age of 8.

-Not surprisingly that was also the day of her first kill... As in this family, trespassers in their forest are considered fair game.

-One of her most cherished memories is camping with her family and eating smores made around the campfire... She was unaware the sticks they were using were the sharpened tibias of one of her father's victims.

-As much as Abby seems fearless, she is actually deathly afraid of spiders... This stems from her being bitten by a brown recluse when she was 5 and she came very close to dying.

-Shortly after she recovered from the spider bite, Abigail develops an imaginary friend named Terry or Terr.

-Terry never goes away and apparently has a mischievous personality.

-Halloween is taken very seriously by Carnage.

-On this holiday he will bond with Abigail and they will work to acquire as much candy as physically possible. While Cletus and Frances have the night to themselves.

-This is the day Carnage's chocoholism is on full display.

-The deal is he gets all the chocolate, Abby gets everything else.

-Although Abby does get the Reese's Cups, because Carnage is not a fan of peanut butter so he avoids those.

-The best trick or treating haul they ever had filled 2 sleeping bags full to the brim with candy... Or as Carnage put it the 'Spoils of War.'

-Any dumbass teenagers or adults that mess with Abby during her Trick or Treating WILL be eaten.

-Once a particular creep actually tried to abduct Abby, seeing her a young child supposedly alone... What happened was Carnage hopped into the man's body and essentially ate him extremely slowly from the inside out... While Abby went to buy a slurpee from a 7-11 with money from his wallet.

-From that point on slurpees are pretty much Abbys default favorite treat to get when she is out.

-During one time when the little girl is 9, she's left at the house alone she wanders outside (Which she has full permission to do as long as she leaves a note saying that she had gone out along with the time she did so) And encounters a young boy her own age named Tyler.

-This kid wandered away from his babysitter who was hooking up with her boyfriend elsewhere in the woods...

-Tyler was looking for fossils in the forest. But he and Abby ended up playing together for most of the day. Quickly becoming best friends. With Abby stating that Terry liked Tyler as well.

-Yeah after a while Abby was being watched by her dad from a fair distance away.

-Protective dad's being protective.

-When it started to get late, Tyler admitted he needed to go find his babysitter to go home...

-Long story short, Frances took the kid home as the babysitter and her boyfriend met unfortunate ends earlier in the day due to trespassing.

-Ironically enough Tyler's parents own the bakery that the Murder family likes so much.

-Tyler became pretty much the only person who could walk into the woods without fear of death.

-He was unaware of exactly who Abby's parents were, as his parents didn't want to scare their son and have him unintentionally insult them... They only stressed to him that he needed to always be polite and mind his manners.

-Which he did, always saying hello to Mr. and Mrs. K whenever he came over to play with Abby.

-Even when he learns the truth years later nothing changes about how he interacts with them. Since he has a very laid-back, go with the flow personality.

-As time goes by it is revealed both Tyler and Abby are both mutants.

-Tyler can breathe underwater, but also produce electricity in powerful bolts or in a shield around himself.

-Abby has jokingly called him an electric eel many times... He hopes he could find a cooler nickname than that.

-Terry apparently suggested Zappy... Which is worse...

-Abby has a certain degree of pyrokinesis. Able to produce tongues of flames from her hands and fingertips. Also from the red streaks in her hair... She demonstrates incredible speed and agility, even able to outrun Carnage at times...

-Abigail uses her powers mostly for welding and other mechanical based projects, as she has interests in building things and working with mechanics and cars.

-She never actually went to school, but due to some forged paperwork she was able to attend a BOCES course on mechanics.

-She loved working on the car with her mother as she grew up, as Frances had initially learned how to do a bit of maintenance on the car and she would pass this information onto her daughter.

-As Abigail reaches her teenager years she has solidified her opinions of the world... She believes that 90 percent of people are useless. As Carnage would say they are 'meat'... 5 percent are dangerous and are by default considered enemies... And then there are the five percent who are just genuinely good, nice people who deserve to live. She came to that last conclusion on her own without influence from her family.

-While not a murderer like her father, she is completely desensitized to gore and death. She can put on a smile and deal with people... but if push comes to shove, she has no qualms becoming violent and she's a very brutal fighter. Both using her mutant powers and just tearing into someone with a knife or even her bare hands.

-She views the love her parents have for each other as life goals.

-She also learned that revenge is an important part of life, and is good for healing the soul.

-But... Family is the most important thing.

-When Abigail and Tyler are 17 they plan to go to a movie. But first Tyler needs to drop off a cake at the local bank, as the staff are throwing their manager a surprise party. Abby waits in the banks lobby, checking her phone and drinking a slurpee... Only to get grabbed by a dumbass who is going to try and rob the bank with her as a hostage.

-She was not afraid at all, visibly appearing more annoyed than anything... until she suddenly looks surprised.

- "Really Terry? You've never wanted to before, are you sure? Alright then lets do this." And with that she spun around in the gunman's grip.

-And a Symbiote emerged from her body and proceeded to eat the mans face.

-Apparently Terry was short for Terror...

-Obviously videos of these events were going to hit the internet in a matter of minutes, so after hastily leaving the scene with Tyler, Abby opted for a raincheck on the movie as she needed to go talk to her parents about this. Something that Terror seemed hesitant about...

-Well THAT was a fun conversation.

-Terror explained they awakened in Abby's blood as a result of the spider bite all those years ago. They just chose to never reveal themselves outright as they were happy to enjoy seeing the world through their 'sisters' eyes. They were also able to survive strictly on the copious amount of chocolate there always was in the house... and the occasional animal from the woods... they had been so subtle and quiet in their existence that even when Carnage would merge to Abby every Halloween, he would be unable to sense Terrors presence.

-Although Terror had not made their presence known, they were responsible for some of Abby's physical abilities, such as being able to outrun Carnage at times.

-Ultimately Abby gets Terror to reveal that the real reason they never made themselves known was because they didn't want to upset the dynamic of their family. And they had asked their sister to never directly say anything about their existence.

-Well...

-Frances was PISSED...

-She scolded Terror left right and sideways for never revealing they were there. That they had essentially chosen to be a ghost watching the world and never being a part of it. All because they were afraid they wouldn't be accepted.

-Because Terror is every bit as much her child as Abby damn it! And they were being an idiot to dare and think they would ever treat them otherwise.

-Hearing this... nearly made the young Symbiote cry with frickin' relief.

-Abby nudged them and gave them a well deserved 'Told you so...'

Ok yeah I am stopping this now, partially because I am really tired right now and partly because I think this would be where all the fluff would actually stop. Because even though I haven't ventured too much farther into this AU from this point... I get the feeling if I continued with it, it wouldn't have the happiest of endings. Since I am pretty sure Carnage, Cletus and Frances won't survive their fights with Eddie and Venom in this AU. And this was supposed to be fluffy and domestic only... maybe if I ever give it more thought some day I might add more but that is pretty much it for now. I hope you all enjoyed this as it sure was fun to write :)

[wolfstarlibrarian]

hello dear librarian! thank you for all of the wonderful recs you spend your time gifting us! i thoroughly enjoy reading the fics you recommend! i was wondering if you had any aus where either sirius or remus is famous and the other is not? thank you so much!

Hello friend! The Librarian definitely has some recs for you since this is a very popular trope. Hope you enjoy some of these finds! 

⭐ Famous Sirius ⭐

The Certainty of You by uponavenueroad Sirius is a Hollywood actor who has not been entirely forthcoming about his identity to an undeniably charming, befuddled antique book seller from Notting Hill. The truth comes to a head the morning after a steamy one-night stand.

A Promise by @kattlupin Remus Lupin and Sirius Black are two strangers both seeking solace in solo trips to Paris. Strangers that is, until happenstance sits them together on a plane and their solo trips turn into a romantic adventure together.

The Heir by @remus-john-lupin

They’ve been playing this game all evening— this sly cat-and-mouse thing, except the tables are continuously turning. One moment Remus is the cat, confident and careful as he corners his prey, and the next he’s the mouse, pinned under this enticing man’s quick paw.

Sweater Weather by @lumosinlove Remus works for the Gryffindor Lions as a physical trainer, and has been half in love with Sirius Black, the Lions' heartthrob captain, for a while now, but he never expected Sirius to return the feelings. Read if you like cute nicknames, slow burn, and pining. Yep. That's it.

Collateral by fingerprintbruises The fic where Sirius flees from the paparazzi, Remus runs a bookstore, and Lily has great timing.

Whatever Words I Say -orphaned account When Remus Lupin is hired to control the antics of famous lead singer of the Marauders, Sirius Black, he knows he has his work cut out for him. Sirius is contrary and has absolutely no chill, and loves pissing off the press. Remus feels up to the challenge, but he certainly does not expect to fall head over heels in love from the moment he meets the charismatic singer.

Never Above You, Never Below -orphaned account Actor Sirius Black just wants to spend his time off filming shopping in peace. But when an overly excited boy introduces the celebrity to his single dad, everything in his life changes.

Stalking Sirius by @remuslives23 Reluctant paparazzo, Remus Lupin, manipulates his way into rock star, Sirius Black’s, life, hoping for a scoop that will kick start his flagging career. Instead, he finds himself torn between his growing feelings for Sirius, and the article of a lifetime.

500 Miles (I’m Coming Home to You) by @museme87

When Sirius Black left Manchester six years ago for a record deal, he also left behind Remus, his longtime boyfriend. Now they have a chance to be reunited, but Remus isn’t sure he’s willing to make amends with the man who sold their love for stardom.

Finest in Fairford by @bluepeon-y Remus Lupin’s job in a Fairford coffee shop is always uneventful, until an exotic new customer begins leaving messages with his tips.

This is You and Me by Children_of_the_Shadows The first time Charlus Potter met Remus Lupin, he was reminded of a past he was trying to forget. The first time Dorea Potter met Remus Lupin, she was reminded of her own limitation. The first time James Potter met Remus Lupin, he was indifferent. The first time Sirius Black met Remus Lupin, he threw a punch to his face.

The Sweet Love Between the Moon and the Deep Blue Sea by @momstiel, @kerstintxt Sirius Black was okay, no matter how often Lily and James and his manager were going to ask him about it. He didn't need to cancel the tour, and he didn't need an assistant to play his babysitter, and he certainly didn't need a guardian angel to fall in love with... wait, what?

Addicted To The Magic -orphaned account

Sometimes you meet a stranger on the tube, and the entire course of your love life changes--even if you have no idea who they really are. And sometimes you know exactly who the messy-haired, speccy prat is who keeps showing up at your work, and as much as you try and deny it, he truly is growing on you.

🌙 Famous Remus 🌙

The Muse by @fangirlwolfie-blog Maybe it's time, he finds himself thinking as Arthur starts talking about this girl he's dating, Molly. Maybe… it's time to move on. Naturally that's the day Sirius calls him. Remus is stupid because he should say no. It's been too many years for him not to be able to just tell Sirius NO every damn time he comes calling. But he's weak.

Wizard Beat by eprime Hogwarts-Era. Sirius is a fanboy.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 27

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: none

A/N: my god i really took a whole month to write this. i am sooo sorry, but i was a bit stuck with the narrative. thankfully it’s moving forward. hope you enjoy xx

NEXT CHAPTER

Y/N watched him walk up to his bag to removal a navy blue square box. She furrowed her brows, leaning on her hands on the worn out duvet from her teen years as he sat by his side. His cheeks were dusted pink, lip stuck between his teeth as he handed it to her. Y/N merely looked at him like a child who knew nothing of the object that had been placed on top of her hands. All she knew was that it was in her hands and felt more expensive than the homemade present she had manage to hid under all her chunky Christmas outfits Bucky deemed unnecessary. He was nervous, heart pounding under the several layers of clothing he was wearing to protect himself from the cold. Rebecca had warned him to be careful, maybe to thread around lightly as she could be freaked out. His pace seemed to slow down as he walked up to the bed were she was so innocently and calmly looking at her. It’s gonna be fine, Barnes, man up, he told himself. 

     - You don’t have to accept it. I just ... I thought you might want it. 

     - Bucky, you’re rambling. - she cocked her head to the side, giving him a teasing smile as he sat by the bed. - The only reason someone should be so nervous is if they’re proposing. 

     -  Uhm ... - he rubbed the back of his neck as he set the box on the bed. All the colour drained from her face and she put her hands in front of her mouth.

     - Are you proposing? Gosh, did I ruin it? Oh my I ruined a proposal, again. 

     - Not quite. - he gave her a toothy grin. - And when did you ruin a proposal?

     - Long story. - she rested her chin against her hand.

     - Well, when my ‘ma died she left me and Rebecca a lot of stuff. - he opened up the old blue velvet box to show a small pearl necklace laying against the padded black satin fabric. - She left me this ... outta all things. Said I should give it to a nice girl someday but I’d never met a nice girl until I met you ...

    - Bucky. - her lips almost pouted as she tried not to get her emotions get the best of her. It was nothing special, it was really nothing special but to hear him, the man she was so hopelessly in love with, say she was a nice girl was making her heart beat faster.

    - You don’t have to wear it ... it’s probably too old and ... well I just wanted you to have them. My dad gave it to my mum before he got shipped off and I thought I’d give them to you ...

    - Wait, you’re not being shipped off, are you? - she wrapped her arms around his neck. - Because if you did good news first and bad news last, I’ll be very upset.

    - No, no, no. I’m not being shipped out ... I think I’m to old for that. - he chuckled. - The point is, he gave it to her as a labour of love and I want it to give it to you as a labour of love too. Except without the shipping off. 

    - Bucky, it’s beautiful. - she looked down at the box. - And it’s not too old.

    - It’s over a hundred years old.

    - You’re over a hundred years old. - she gave him a teasing look, kissing the corner of his mouth. - Maybe I fancy things over a hundred years old.

    - Yeah? - he smiled at her. - Do you wanna put it on?

    - Can you help me? - she handed him the pearls, turning around to face the mirror in front of her bed. Bucky draped the small pearl string around her neck, clasping it at the back before putting his hand on her shoulder, his head resting in the curvature between her neck and shoulder. Her finger traced the imperfect circular shapes of the pearls, soft smile on her lips. - Bucky, they’re beautiful. Thank you.

    - Thank god you like them. Sam’s been in my head all day sayin’ you’d think they’re too old. - he kissed her neck as she laughed. - Besides, I didn’t really know what to give you. I can’t really give you the moon.

    - The moon sounds like it’d take too much space in the house. Can you imagine? I live in a one bedroom flat, I barely have space for me and my thoughts.

    - Stop it. - he held her chin to turn her face so he could kiss her. - You know, missy ... you still owe me for that stunt you pulled in the airplane.

    - You know I would love to finish it ... - she threw her legs over his. - But I have to go with my mum tomorrow morning to pick out last minute gifts and she is an early bird.

   - Uhm ... you torture me. - he wrapped his arms around her. - But I’ll let it slide this time. 

Bucky couldn’t sleep that night, he stood up all night looking at her; the way the moon illuminated her skin against the dusty blue sheets, the pearls drapped over her beautiful skin. Bucky thought in that moment he was the luckiest man in the world and that maybe it was all worth it. Maybe falling from the train, becoming HYDRAs fist, Zemo, wars, everything ... maybe it was worth going through all of that because if he hadn’t gone through all of that, he wouldn’t be what he was today and he wouldn’t have met her. It was worth knowing it, it was worth having her. He remembered his mum reprimanding him every time he’d break up or start seeing yet another girl “James Barnes, you gotta stop playin’ around and find yourself a nice girl who you love and loves you back for who you are”. He didn’t believe her, he knew why girls were into him, or into the uniform so he didn’t really believe someone would want to stick around with him being a soldier. But Y/N, Y/N loved him with that and even all his nightmares and trauma. He couldn’t help but want to keep her safe despite that being what his job entailed, and it made his blood boil whenever he thought back to how someone had broken into her place, into her safe space. It made him more upset he hadn’t figured out who done it. Not even Steve or Natasha found any clues, it was almost as if it never happened but he had pictures, he had pictures of that word written across the mirror.

He could not stop thinking about it, he couldn’t sleep about it. He hadn’t been able to sleep in a while, afraid something would happen to her while he was asleep. He had failed to protect her, someone had gotten into her home and god... something could have happened and he wasn’t there, he wasn’t there to defend her. He couldn’t even do his job right. He couldn’t protect his girlfriend.  

Bucky stood up all night until the early morning when the clock shone 7:30 AM. She moved around, signalling she was more awake than asleep. He smiled, kissing her forehead as she opened her eyes.

   - Morning, princess. 

   - Buck, you need to sleep. - she said in her cute sleep filled voice. - It’s too early for you.

   - I don’t need sleep. Super soldier, remember, doll?

   - That can’t be right. - she rose up from the bed, rubbing the sleep off her eyes. - You sure you’re okay being alone? I could ask my mum ...

   - Go have time with your mum, princess. I’ll be fine, promise you.

   - Do not let my sisters give you any trouble. Or my brother ... or any of my sister’s husbands. You know what? You’re allowed to cuss them out if they do.

   - I’m sure it’ll be fine. - he watched as she got dressed and covered into layers upon layers. He had forgotten how cold England was. - You don’t have to worry.

   - Yes I have. They’re very persuasive, they’re lawyers. They will convince you to do things you don’t even want to do with you noticing. 

   - I’ve been through mind control before, I’m sure I can handle it, doll face.

   - Doll face? - she smirked. - That’s a new one. You sure you’re not trying to butter me up so I finish what I started.

   - Nonsense. - he got up from her, slowly walking up to her, hands resting upon her waist as he whispered against her ear. - It’s not like you need any buttering up isn’t it, princess?

   - I ... - her face grew warm at the thoughts that filled her head.

   - Y/N! Honey, are you ready? - her mother’s knock on the door, followed by her opening it just the slightest bit interrupted her sex filled thoughts. - We don’t wanna catch a confusion.

   - Yeah, mum. Just saying bye to Bucky.

   - Oh, Bucky ... there’s breakfast downstairs if you want. The boys are all up, maybe you can socialise.

   - Mum ... - Y/N said through a tight smile as the three walked from the bedroom into the hall. 

   - You worry too much. - her mother ushered down the stairs to the door where her father was leaned against, waiting. Y/N kissed Bucky goodbye before being pushed out of the house.

Bucky couldn’t say he was particularly comfortable. It wasn’t that her family wasn’t nice, they were as inviting as one could be but he barely knew them and the last thing he wanted was to scare them off or leave a bad impression. After all, there wasn’t a lot of his family Y/N had to impress and whatever was left of it she had left a great impression but her family, well, her family probably did not expect a 100 year old soldier bodyguard dating their actress daughter. Yet again, who does?

He walked into the dinning room where most of her family was sat down happily eating breakfast until they became aware of his presence. Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, ready to mumble an apology before Aunt Petunia was grabbing him and seating him down on one of the free seats. 

   - So, Bucky, what do you want to eat?

   -  Uhm ... just black coffee is fine. -  he spoke and as fast as he did, a cup of coffee was in front off him.

    - Don’t you want anything to eat? Oh, is this a super soldier situation where you cannot eat? Is it because you’re a 100? Honey, do you need any medication?

    - No, no, m’am. I’m just not a breakfast person. 

    - Uhm, I see. Did you sleep well? I couldn’t sleep all night with Sophie ... - Petunia looked at Claire who rolled her eyes at her. - Crying all night.

    - I’m sorry that we can’t control when a baby cries, Aunt Petunia. - Claire replied before returning to feed some crushed banana to her baby. 

    - Babies. - the old woman rolled her eyes, before redirecting her attention towards Bucky. - Do you want them?

    - Pardon?

    - A baby. You want a baby right? Y/N has always wanted babies ... of course she keeps forgetting she won’t be fertile forever. 

     - Uhm ... I don’t know, Y/N and I haven’t really discussed having a kid. 

     - I don’t wanna know about that. I wanna know if you want a baby.

     - I don’t know if I can have a baby. - he sighed, looking at any of Y/N’s siblings for help.

     - What do you mean you don’t know?

     - Bucky. - Claire interrupted her aunt. - Do you mind getting the mail? We haven’t checked our post box since we arrived and it’s probably pilling up. 

     - Yeah. - he got up from his chair before he could be asked any more questions.

Could he have a baby? He didn’t know; Steve couldn’t and Steve hadn’t. gone through all the brainwashing and shock therapy he had gone through. Besides, he refused to know and he didn’t really care about it. Why would Bucky Barnes, an ex murderer for HYDRA, want to bring a kid into this world? No, the world was better off this way and he did not want to know the answer anyway despite the idea of a family haunting his fantasies. Thankfully Claire had saved him and for that alone, he was almost certain she was his favourite sibling out of all. Checking the post wasn’t too hard and surely no one would ask about his family planning on the way to the post box.

He let the door behind him as he passed through the snowy ground until the postbox which, despite most of Claires belief, was quite empty except for a few postcards, bills and a particular letter that caught his attention. He looked around before putting the rest of the mail under his arm and started to inspect the letter. It had no stamp, no sender, not even an address, just Y/N’s name in the front written in cursive. Bucky knew he shouldn’t open her mail but he just didn’t trust it and as he ripped through the envelope, his suspicious heightened.

You cannot hide, whore. 

taglist: @disasterbii @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me @americasass81 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lostinthebeans @mariahthelioness29 @bbabysbaby @peaches-roses-sins @theadorasabditory @sipsteacasually @saiyanprincessswanie @booktease21 @noiralei @learisa @everythingisoverratedbutgreat @uglipotata72829 @naturalthrone22 @husherstan @mandiiblanche​ @vicmc624 @newyorkgoddess @itsallyscorner @chipilerendi @emzd34 @writerwrites​ @bluevxnus​ @that-girl-named-alex​ @captnrogers​ @nsfwsebbie​ @sarge-barnes-sir​

[beautifulterriblequeen]

B2:S - Chapter 5

Much of this series will be about the differences and additions in the novel version, and how they contribute to my understanding of story canon. But there will be character appreciation, the odd theory and headcanon, and suchlike as well.

Here be lots of Viren deets, Best Boy Soren deets, some writing/continuity stuff, worldbuilding appreciation and half of a theory, Detective Rayla, Moon Temple geeking, Claudium and dark magic, and more!

Spoilers for Book Two: Sky below.

(I know for darn sure that I wrote up a post for chapter 4, but I can't find it anywhere so I guess Tumblr ate it and I'll have to redo it at some point, but today is not that day)

Viren, my evil dude, my bad guy, coming in clutch with the worldbuilding and backstory again! If you want to know decades of information, you gotta talk to Viren. Or read his scenes, at least. Here, he seems to not sleep much when he has a big problem to analyze his way through. Solutions trump pretty much everything else in this guy's life, and he's had a really hard week with a lot of new and complicated problems. Of course he's getting sleep-deprived trying to find his way through them all.

Harrow put so much trust in Viren when he made him High Mage! He just threw himself extra hard at that Lady Justice blindfold, didn't he? Didn't really want to see what Viren was doing in his magic study, so he left Viren to his devices. And Viren has a lot of devices.

Also, this is fascinating: Viren made the secret passage to his "less official study" in Katolis Castle! And he was inspired to do so by the way his own mentor kept the Puzzle House. What else could a Puzzle House be, except a place with secret passages? Yay! secret headcanon that "the Puzzle House" is just "Katolis Castle" from Kid Viren's perspective tho

So either Viren built all of those passageways, or at least the ones to his dungeon. Which means he has to have, or know where to get, a stash of those glowing blue Moonshadow crystals. Hmmm.

I can't wait to learn more about Kpp'Ar and young Viren, btw. From this description of Viren and all his literal secret ways, it feels like another parallel between Viren and Runaan, with the whole "secretive paths, members only, insider knowledge" type stuff. Only the really cool members of this cult club get to know the secrets, and guess what, kid, you're cool now but you can never tell anyone, okay? Our secret.

Yeahhh, that'll never backfire in any way for either of them.

Kpp'Ar calling puzzles and secrets "man-made magic," though. Yes sir, knowledge is indeed power.

This chapter mentions Runaan by name, from Viren's perspective. Generally that would imply that Viren knows his name, even though assassins do not share their names, and Runaan didn't seem to give his to Viren in the first book. However, there was a scene in book one where the last paragraph switched perspective from Viren to Runaan - a technique that's very common in visual media like movies and shows and gives you that "ohoho they left the room and didn't notice this, but you do!" vibe. Using Runaan's name there in book one, where Viren couldn't see it but readers could, helps them keep track of the assassin's story arc while maintaining Viren's racism.

So in book two, in which Runaan has no onscreen scenes (alas), using his name in a scene that calls back to the events in book one helps us remember what happened in that dungeon cell. It would be a bit muddier to recall the specifics if Viren kept thinking about Runaan as "Elf." So I'm cool with the perspective nudge because it serves a narrative purpose: clarity. But I'm also enjoying the angst of considering that, somehow, Viren learned Runaan's name either during or after the coining spell. Mwa ha ha haaa. (Obligatory "Keep my pretty name outta your mouth" goes here)

Okay, back to Viren's scheming! He took the mirror because it was human-sized in a dragon lair. He knew it didn't really fit there, and that made it interesting, so he stole it. But he realized it was really powerful when Runaan wouldn't tell him squat about it - the assassin's instinct to protect Xadian secrets from human hands meant that Viren was holding a very powerful Xadian secret. And that just made him want it all the more. Ah, Runaan, if only your relationship with lying was, like, the exact opposite of what it is. Nyx could've spun Viren a believable tale in 2 minutes flat.

Also of interest: Viren considers his cursed coins to be a final fate. He expects Runaan to remain in his coin forever. With the Chekhov's coins still extant in the storyline, we can assume that they'll come up again eventually, but Viren has no current plans to do anything with his elf money except carry it around.

It's worth noting that Viren admits that he got impatient when he trapped Runaan in the coin. Runaan's first fate in Katolis was supposed to be death at Soren's hands, but Claudia "saved" him from that. His next fate was to become spell components, but Viren's frustration with his stubbornness "saved" him from that fate, too. So now he's in a coin, where no one can chop him up at all. Yay? No, boo!

We get one last line about Runaan before Viren shifts gears: he makes a point of noting for us that Runaan's shackles are still locked shut. However much of Runaan made it into that coin - body, soul, hair care products - he was magicked there, pulled right out of his restraints.

The creepy black liquid that Viren pours right into his eyes is the last of a powerful potion he got from Kpp'Ar, and its recipe is ancient! Humans used it back in the age of Elarion to see through the illusions of the world. And we get a delightfully creepy bit of description about the preparation of this serum, which makes it abundantly clear that it's a Moon magic-based concoction, harvested from eyeless vipers on a moonless night, with the threat of irrevocable madness ("madness" by whose definition, though) if it's done wrong-

Hang on. Hold up. This is a Plato's Cave reference. OH MY GOD.

No no I'm fine, this is brilliant. Sorry, sorry, I couldn't figure why there was so much description for a potion prep that Viren didn't even have to perform himself. But now I get it. I see the light. HA. I should make a separate post for this, it's amazing.

Anyway, for reference, the humans who used this serum were called the Oracles of Ophidia, and Ophidia is a taxonomy group that includes all modern snakes. Can you say "creepy ancient snake rites"? I can! Woo!

Viren activates the serum with a spell, but apparently he's never done it before. He's not sure if it's supposed to be hot and bubbly, and he worries that it's been tainted by moonlight.

Oh, I do hope so.

The magic potion hurts, a lot. Viren will do just about anything, to himself or anyone, to do what he believes is necessary. He just risked madness and blindness to find out what this mirror does! Viren. Can you just. Take a nap or something. Have a Snickers.

This chapter gives us a fun clue that I don't remember from the show: when Viren's vision clears and he can see, his reflection has white pupils and the room reflected in the mirror has inverted colors. You know where else has inverted colors?

You know who else got white pupils for a hot second?

Okay, now it makes sense! Viren and Lujanne were both seeing into the realm beyond life and death. Him with his moon magic potion, and her with her moon powers on a full moon night at the Moon Nexus. Which is Very Interesting! Is it a direct hint about Aaravos's location, or just a separate cool detail? Orrr, does it look like a direct hint because Aaravos is actually trapped in the world beyond life and death, but it's actually separate and we'll see something about white pupils again later on?

Viren really does have self-esteem issues, we all picked up on it with his rant at his reflection. He throws a fit when he catches himself wondering if he's actually worthless. In the book version of his tantrum, he shoves the mirror and hurls a candelabra instead of flipping a table. He didn't need to shove the mirror to set the fire, but it's in here. Foreshadowing that perhaps, if push comes to shove, Viren will choose himself over Aaravos? Giving Aaravos time to peek through and see that the coast is clear?

Soren, my boyyyyy. He has a rough night at the Moon Nexus because two sides of him are fighting with each other. He struggles to understand Callum's friendship with Rayla, and he also fantasizes about chopping off Rayla's head. One of these is a pretty ordinary thing to do. The other is Soren's internalization of what he needs to do to gain his father's approval. If he brought his dad a chopped off elf head every week, he'd probably feel a lot more confident because Viren would praise him a lot more.

Okay, okay, omg, is it just me, or does the "Moonshadow Madness" story, as it's told in the book, seem like Soren just doesn't know what a monsterfucker is? He thinks an elf bite puts humans under a spell. But vampires are sexy, and some people want them to do more to them than just bite them. A passionate kiss under the moonlight could look very bitey, especially if one of the participants has horns and you're already culturally trained to hate them. No yeah, I'm already headcanoning an actual human-elf kiss that got misunderstood by an observer long ago.

it's Lujanne isn't it, we all know, because what is a love spell but a sweet soft illusion, I mean how else does she get supplies for her Caldera, I ask you, and also Corvus was totally sent to investigate once and he told Soren at camp what he saw

And then back to magefam angst: Soren pretending that his sister's nose-tapping is stupid, even though he actually thinks it's cool, just because their dad thinks it's stupid. Viren, istg. Let your kids like harmless things. It's so cute that Soren taps his nose back at her, though! Like they have their own sibling code. I hope we get to see the nose tap again, especially now that they've chosen different sides. It could mean so much, that they're not too far apart yet.

Rayla knows what buttery pancakes smell like. I love this. Do Moonshadow elves have butter and pancakes, does Rayla eat a stack of eight giant pancakes in the morning? Orrrr it is just illusion food? I don't care, let Rayla have pancakes! Everyone loves pancakes. Pancakes will save the world. this message brought to you by the fact that I can't eat pancakes rn, send help

I love that Rayla is both sus of the pancakes and hungry, and that combines into a very motivated "I will get to the bottom of this" attitude. She kind of goes into Poirot Mode when she inserts herself into Soren and Ellis's conversation about Ava, explaining about the wolf's illusion leg and segueing into her claim that the pancakes taste sus. Claudia confirms she used dark magic, and Rayla is furious. It's different than the show's version in that it puts Rayla in detective mode, as the only Moonshadow elf in the scene, and boy does she take that role seriously. Also, she doesn't actually swallow the dark magic pancake bite. It ends up on the ground just like Lujanne's grubs from that earlier meal. These poor kids are so nutrient-starved. You guys gotta eat!!

Rayla's determination and prejudices and the fact that she super knows Harrow is dead all dovetail to make her try repeatedly to persuade Callum that Soren and Claudia are Not To Be Trusted. It's nice that the book keeps taking the time to point out that Rayla is Well Intentioned But Flawed, just like Callum and pretty much every other character in the show. No one is Right All The Time, no one Knows More Than Everyone Else.

Callum loving the sound of Claudia's unique voice is so wholesome. When you like someone, it only makes sense that you like all the things about them that they can't change - like the sound of Claudia's voice. Her choices with dark magic, not so much!

Claudia seems to have the same concerns Soren does about Callum's relationship with Rayla, but she comes out and asks him. The inherent possession implied in "your elf" is interesting, though. Elves are not people to Claudia. They're enemies who can be disassembled for the magic inside them. So maybe more like robots than living beings, if she knew what a robot was. Maybe she heard Soren's "Moonshadow Madness" story and realized he totally missed the kissing implications - but she didn't, and now she's genuinely worried that Rayla could kiss Callum under a full moon and enchant him to do her will. Good thing it's only a half moon, then!

Okay, Callum nervously making a puppet hand and then not knowing what to do with his hands and freaking out about itching and moving and pointy elbows is such a ND mood. The sudden stress of knowing that someone else is noticing your existence and maybe you're Not Existing Right, amirite? Ugh, poor Callum.

The Moon Temple! Omg it's so pretty in the description! Made to be beautiful and useful, full of knowledge but also allowing light and life inside (butterflies and vines). Lujanne, when can I move in, please? Also, it's all the more angsty because Lujanne is the only one who gets to see this beautiful place, but it has lots of chairs and shelves and tables, and it was meant to be used by lots of people. :(((

Claudia knows some of the runes on the walls. She isn't in a hurry to copy the rest of them down or anything, either. Her spellwriting is very precise, and she's a skilled mage. Her father would have made sure she was aware of the dangers of drawing sloppy runes, as much as he made her aware of the dangers of doing dark magic wrong. And the whole point of dark magic is that it's easier to learn than primal magic. Claudia supports her dad and their shared knowledge and life path. She's not gonna go nuts over an elf library she can't translate.

Side note: Between Claudia knowing some Moon runes and Viren building a secret passageway and a dungeon and lighting it with the same blue crystals that Lujanne and Ethari use for light--and Claudia exclaiming that she loves ruins--I wonder once more if there are really Moonshadow ruins somewhere in Katolis, which Viren has found and looted. Father-daughter relic hunting trip, maybe while Soren is away at camp? Omgsh that would be so wild!

Callum out here having a Viren moment with his "I feel powerless unless I've got magic that lets me help" vibes. God. I love their complicated mirroring. One of the hard differences between them is that Callum is very sure dark magic is bad because you have to kill stuff and take its power to cast spells, and he doesn't want to be a person who kills and takes like that. The line he walks to be nice to Claudia on their tour of the Cursed Caldera because he likes her, while telling her that he doesn't want to do her magic, like, ever, is so fine that it might as well be a shifting shadow on the ground. It's a very fitting conversation to be having during the half moon, with its tricks and little white lies.

Callum being out of the castle and his comfort zone, having to deal with the fact that the Claudia he loves is not quite the Claudia who's chasing him down across the kingdom, but of the two of them, he's the only one with a problem with this.

They say that if you really want to get to know someone, you should spend time with them outside their comfort zone - in heavy traffic, with a small baby, taking care of a new pet, trying a new skill, following unfamiliar directions, etc. While the castle is familiar territory for them both, Callum's never really found his comfort zone yet, while Claudia is pretty comfortable with her growing skill set. The creepy part starts to kick in when Callum begins to realize that Claudia's comfort zone encompasses a whole bunch of stuff that seems like it should make her uncomfortable... but it doesn't. But that'll be for a future chapter!

[yukidragon]

Our Life Snippet - First Sight

Hey all, I’m in the mood to share another clip of my Our Life: Beginnings & Always novelization’s first draft. This time it’s from the start of Step 1, with Cove and Jamie as teeny 8-year-olds having a most unexpected encounter that would change their lives forever.

Thanks, as always, to @gb-patch​ for the lovely game and for fueling so much inspiration in me!

...

Sighing, Jamie realized that she just had to accept the fact that she wasn’t going to come up with a clever solution to sneak in through the back of her house. She had no real option but to find a good hiding spot on one of the hills and wait. Either her moms would come looking for her, or the stranger would wander off to do other suspicious things, and she could sneak in through the front door when he was gone.

The hills were quiet, save for the chirping of crickets hiding in the tall grass. Jamie visited the place nearly every day, so it wasn’t scary being out there by herself, even at night. It was fairly bright for nighttime as well thanks to the full moon that slowly rose over the horizon. Still, it was hard for her to relax completely, knowing that some tall creepy stranger might still be hunting for her.

It was likely because Jamie was so on alert that she felt as though she wasn’t actually alone in the hills that night. She turned her attention away from home and safety to scan her surroundings carefully before quickly finding that she was right.

Sitting atop one of the hills, mostly hidden among the tall grass and white poppies was a boy around her age. His hair was green, which offered a perfect natural camouflage that was completely ruined by the neon pink cast wrapped around his left arm. He sat curled up, knees tucked against his chest with his face buried against them.

The boy hadn’t noticed Jamie. He sat facing away from her and the houses. His focus was instead on some point far off in the distance.

The view from the hills was spectacular, and it was something Jamie liked about playing here, but she got the impression that this boy wasn’t really here for that. As she drifted carefully closer, she saw the sad frown he wore along with the lost look he had in his blue-green eyes.

In the moonlight, the boy’s eyes seemed to glow behind the large glasses he wore. It was almost magical and Jamie couldn’t help but stare. The feeling of observing him was like stumbling across a deer in the wild, or maybe a fairy.

Above those enchanting but sad eyes were a pair of upturned wavy eyebrows. Jamie had never seen anyone have such a distinctive feature, but they somehow suited this new boy. They also went well with the waves of his pretty, short, seafoam green hair, which delicately fluttered in the breeze around his face. The clothes he wore were ordinary enough in comparison to his more striking features - a white tank-top and brown cargo shorts with long white socks and black sneakers - with only the red glasses and bright pink cast standing out.

As pretty and magical as the new boy appeared, Jamie couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to make him so upset.

Although Jamie tried to be quiet in her approach, she failed in her attempts to be stealthy for a second time that day. Those aquamarine eyes that reflected the moonlight so enchantingly turned their focus on her, and she froze.

Slowly, Jamie raised a hand in a small wave and put on her best smile, not wanting to scare the sad boy away. “Hi.”

…

Cove Holden was lost, and he didn’t want to be found.

This place was all wrong. It wasn’t home. Ever since they got there, his dad kept pointing out all the good things this place had, including things that he already had at home, but it wasn’t the same. Nothing was familiar and so many little details were simply just plain wrong. Even the beach was all wrong. The sand wasn’t the right color, the smells woven with the salt in the air were strange, and even the plants near the beach were different than what he expected to see.

If the beach was so wrong, then how did his dad expect anything else in this place to seem right to him at all?

The worst part of all was that his mom wasn’t there. His parents fought all the time; he didn’t remember a time when they didn’t. Sometimes one of them would leave home for a long time because a fight was particularly bad. Even when one of them screamed at the other not to come back, they always did, eventually.

This time was different. This time Cove had to leave too, and he was never allowed to go back home again.

No matter how Cove cried, pleaded, or even yelled, there was no changing their minds. His dad forced him in the car with some boxes and they drove and drove and drove until they were here in this place his dad now called home.

This wasn’t home. This would never be home. It couldn’t be. Nothing made sense anymore. How could this whole day be anything but the worst nightmare of his life?

Cove was sick of it. He was ready to wake up back in his bed. He wouldn’t even mind if he woke up to the sound of his parents yelling again this time. He just wanted to be back home.

That was why Cove ran away the moment his dad wasn’t paying attention. It was just in time, too. He didn’t want to see all the things wrong about the house his dad kept insisting was “home” now. Just the outside alone had been too much.

With no idea of where to go except “away,” Cove kept running until he reached a place far away from everyone, where no one would find him until he finally woke up. Eventually, he found himself in some overgrown hills dotted covered with white flowers. It reminded him of his hill from back home, but of course it wasn’t right either - his hill never had flowers on it.

The hills were as wrong as everything else in this place, but Cove had been too tired by that point to keep running anymore. He collapsed in the tallest patch of grass, completely drained of everything but his tears.

There Cove sat and shut out the world, hunched up on himself. He didn’t notice when the sun had set and the moon had risen to take its place. The only thing he could do was wish to finally wake up from this nightmare.

A rustle in the grass, louder than any caused by the wind, pulled Cove out of his revere. He turned his gaze towards the source and froze.

A little girl was standing there only a few feet away from him, staring at him with wide blue eyes as dark as the night sky and glittering with starlight. She looked to be about his age, with skin as pale as moonlight and long hair the color of deep water drawn up into two pigtails to create the illusion of twin waterfalls. Despite the ordinary clothes she wore - a teal and white floral sundress, matching shorts, and a pair of flower-themed flip-flops - she didn’t look like a real person. No one had eyes like that. It was as if a piece of the world around him had turned into a kid his age.

For a moment, Cove could only stare back at this unreal girl standing beside him. Then she tilted her head ever so slightly and smiled at him as she raised a hand.

“Hi,” she said. Her voice was soft and sweet, but that one word alone was enough to send a jolt through Cove’s entire body. “Are you lost?”

Despite Jamie’s best efforts to appear friendly, the sad boy went on the defensive immediately. He jerked up and was on his feet in seconds, balling his hands into fists at his sides, as though getting ready to run or maybe fight.

Cove said nothing as he stared at the unreal girl. He didn’t have a clue what this nightmare had in store for him now. Was this a good thing or a bad thing?

Now that the boy was facing her, Jamie could see the faint streaks of tears on his cheeks and that his red-rimmed blue eyes shined with the promise of more to come. His clothes were dotted with wet spots, especially on his shorts around his knees. It was clear to her that he had been crying for quite a while.

The thought made Jamie feel sad for him.

Maybe this was the “Cove” boy the creepy stranger had told her about. Children were a rarity in Sunset Bird after all. Jamie felt a little guilty at the thought that the man might have actually been telling the truth about Cove being a real person after all. Maybe Cove had been crying because of what his dad was doing to try and get him friends.

There was only one way to be sure though.

“Who are you?” Jamie asked. “I’ve never seen you before.”

Cove had to take a moment before he could answer, sniffling away his tears as best he could as he rubbed his flushed cheeks. “My name’s Cove,” he said, his voice rough and shaking a little from his earlier crying. “I’m…”

Cove trailed off, hesitant and unsure about talking to this dream girl. His eyes slipped away from her to their surroundings. There was no one else around - not his dad or any other adult. When he looked back, he saw she was waiting patiently for him to continue, still wearing that gentle smile.

Maybe this was a good thing after all.

[amazingmaeve]

My, My, My, My, Lover - Scott McCall

Teen Wolf Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Summary: Y/N and Scott go through their life from high school to marriage and explore the ups and downs of a relationship.

Request: can i please request lover by taylor swift and scott mccall? i have fallen in love with tyler posey and lover is one of my favorite songs. as for an idea, maybe just all the cute moments of scott and the reader, from their first meeting, to the first kiss, a random moment of her scraping her knee or something, up until the wedding. i just need some scott fluff. 😭💕 thank you so much. you don’t have to write this if you don’t want to! 🥺

Requested by: @blkwd

Pairing: Scott McCall x Female!Reader

Warnings: Nothing just fluff

AN: Based on the Song Lover by Taylor swift. I love this and I love Scott and Taylor Swift.

We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January This is our place, we make the rules And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear Have I known you twenty seconds or twenty years?

Y/N met Scott when she was in the 11th grade through his mom who she worked with a student volunteer. She knew who Scott was since he was the captain of the lacrosse team but she never actually met him.

She was invited over to dinner when Melissa asked her to join her and Scott for dinner. She agreed because she didn’t want to be mean and rude to her.

When they first met they obviously had some chemistry.

Scott asked her out a week later with a smile on his face. And of course Y/N agreed because she liked the boy as well.

When she found out about him being a werewolf is when he showed her after a few months of dating. He was worried that she was going to be scared of him and run off.

But Y/N didn’t do that she hugged Scott and whispered in his ear and told him “Thanks for telling me and trusting me.”

Even though Y/N was kind of freaked out the first time she saw him turn to a werewolf she wasn’t scared of because she knew he could never hurt her.

Scott hugged her back thankful that he didn’t scare her off.

She became friends with his friends and was close with Lydia after they first met.

Whenever Y/N and Scott talked it felt like they knew each other for years. She loved everything about him and he loved everything about her.

Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And ah, take me out, and take me home You're my, my, my, my lover 

After high school they stayed close through long distance since Scott wanted to be a vet and Y/N wanted to be a doctor. Even though long distance is hard they face timed and called everyday.

They visited each other in Beacon Hills for holidays.

When one day they came to Beacon Hills for Christmas. Scott was nervous since he was going to ask Y/N to marry him.

He asked for Lydia’s help to pick out a ring and Lydia gladly excepted to help. She was happy for her best friends.

They were in their 4 year of school and have been dating for a long time.

Y/N had a surprise for him as well. She was going to move where he was and take online school for the rest of her college years. She missed being next to Scott and didn’t want to be away from him even more.

After eating Christmas dinner her and Scott went out for a walk.

As she was about to tell Scott he got on one knee and got a jewelry box out.

“Scott what’s going on,” Y/N gasped.

“Y/N you and have been dating for 6 years and I know you are the love of my life. After Allison I thought I wouldn’t find anyone else but then you came along. Will You marry me,” Scott asked with a smile on his face while Y/N gaped at him with her mouth wide open.

“Yes,” She accepted with a wide grin on her face while pulling him up to hug him and kiss him on the lips.

Scott put the ring on her finger after they were finished with their kissing with a smile on his face.

“I can’t wait for you to be my wife.”

We could let our friends crash in the living room This is our place, we make the call And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all 

Now Living together Scott and Y/N live together are happy with their lives. Even happier than before.

After Scott asked her to marry him, she told him about wanting to move with him. At first he said no because of her education but she explained she could do on line school.

Scott was a bit hesitant but agreed none the less.

When ever their friends come to visit they would always have a place on the couch for them. When ever their friends were in town there was always a place for them at their place.

They only owned a one bedroom apartment and it was small.

Even though Scott was still a werewolf he could control it with the full moon because of Y/N.

Whenever Y/N saw Scott talking to a girl she gets a bit jealous because whenever she sees someone looking at him she thinks that they want him. She keeps that to herself because she trust Scott.

Same thing with Scott he would get jealous of any guy talking to her as well.

Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And ah, take me out, and take me home (forever and ever) You're my, my, my, my lover 

Arguments.

They were very rare for Y/N and Scott but when they do they always end of saying something that they don’t mean.

Scott would always sleep on the couch and Y/N would always be alone in the bed.

This one argument was over Y/N wanting to get married sooner than later. Scott said not at the moment because they were in college still.

Y/N asked why and asked if he didn’t want to get married. And in return Scott told her why he wouldn’t be in love with and to stop being so selfish. In return Y/N called him a dick and ran to her bedroom locking the door.

Scott could open the door but decided against knowing that she need some time to her self. And he felt guilty.

He didn’t mean to snap at her but school was getting him frustrated.

In the morning Scott made breakfast for her.

“No,” Y/N blandly said before turning to the room but Scott stopped her.

“Please just sit and we can talk,” Scott pleaded with her giving her his puppy dog eyes. Y/N sighed and rolled her eyes before sitting down.

“So what do you have to say,” Y/N asked while shoving some bacon in her mouth.

“I wanted to say sorry about how mean I was, I was frustrated with school and took it out on you and I shouldn’t have,” Scott apologized to her.

“I just wanted to get married sooner,“ Y/N whispered looking down at the scrambled eggs.

“I know and I decided I want that too,” Scott admitted putting some eggs in his mouth.

Y/N head snapped up with a shocked look on her face.

“Really you sure you ok with that,” Y/N asked feeling really giddy. She didn’t want to force him into this thought.

“Yes I’m sure,” Scott chuckled.

Y/N clapped her hand getting up to sit on his lap bringing her lips to kiss his lips feeling happy. 

Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand? With every guitar string scar on my hand I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue All's well that ends well to end up with you Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me And at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover 

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Finally they got married. Y/N was so excited to marry him that day. She had the perfect dress and hair.

Y/N was so happy to be with him. She could be herself around him and he didn’t judge her for that.

With the hard ships they found each other.

Y/N had her hair broken by many boys and Scott had Allison die in his arms and he knew she would want him to be happy. He loved her and she loved him

Scott kissed her softly and everyone stood up and clapped happy for the too. Y/N had Lydia as her bridesmaid and Stiles was Scott’s best man which was convenient for the both of them.

“I’m so happy you’re now my wife.”

Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever?And ah, take me out, and take me home (forever and ever) You're my, my, my, my Oh, you're my, my, my, my Darling, you're my, my, my, my lover

Now a year later Y/N laid in bed with Scott by her side. He was sleeping and she admired him as he slept.

His arm was wrapped around the huge baby bump.

She found out she was pregnant around six months ago. She was happy and worried. She didn’t know if Scott wanted to be a dad and if he didn’t would he leave her.

When she told him he was over the moon for Y/N and himself. He hugged her and kissed her happiness surrounded him.

“What’s wrong Y/N/N,” Scott yawned as he woke up and noticed she was awake as well.

“Nothing I’m just happy to be with you.”

[tsarisfanfiction]

Hey, I have never done this and I don't unos if I'm asking in the right place but could you do forehead kisses with Alan and litteraly anyone else? Please?

Forehead Kisses

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: Alan, Tracy Brothers

Welcome!  This is exactly the right place to send the prompts, so you’re all good :D  Forehead kisses and Alan, huh?  I think I can do that.  Once I settle on a character.

Or, I don’t have to settle for one character, I guess.  Let’s play around a little :D

Touches Ask Game

His brothers were physically affectionate.  Well, most of them were, although even John had been known to give out or accept touches every so often.  Alan grew up knowing that, more often than not in physical contact with one of his many big brothers - four was a lot, but Alan wouldn’t have any less, even if they could get a little overbearing sometimes.

Hugs were the norm, whether they be a quick squeeze around the shoulders or a full crushing embrace, but kisses interspersed the affection reasonably frequently.  Cheeks for cheeky occasions, when they were being obnoxious in their affection.  Top of the head or temples for when I love you couldn’t be vocalised, brothers burying themselves in each other’s immaculately-styled hair because transmitting those silent words was more important than a hairstyle.

Forehead kisses were reassurance.  A promise that things would be okay - because they would make sure they could be okay, no matter what the world threw their way.

Normally, Alan was on the receiving end of them.  Being the youngest, with four sometimes-overbearing overprotective big brothers, that was hardly a surprise.

Scott was the most common, big brother dishing out affection at the drop of a hat.  All Alan had to do was be a little lethargic, a little less than a hundred percent, and he’d be all over him, carrying him to bed and leaving him there with a soft kiss to his forehead and a murmured rest up, Allie.

Virgil was second, often following the theme and dropping them on him when he was ill or injured, after all the treatment was done and there was nothing left for him to do except stay in bed and pretend he wasn’t a little upset at being stuck there.  Again.  Virgil’s strong, warm kisses helped more than he admitted.

Gordon tended to play partner in crime more than big brother - Alan appreciated that; three big brothers was normally enough - but he was still a big brother, and it shone through sometimes.  The days when Alan wanted to be strong, when the last thing he needed was Scott or Virgil - or even John - breezing in and worrying over him were the days Gordon would sidle in and eye him up.  How Gordon knew when Alan needed him to be the big brother rather than the partner in crime, he didn’t know, but he did and it was in the secrecy of their rooms, away from the eldest three, that Gordon would cup his his head in his hands and promise it’s gonna be okay, Alan, with a little peck.

John was rare.  Rare with hugs, and even rarer with kisses, but not non-existent.  He had to be there in person - of course - and Scott and Virgil had to be otherwise distracted, but once in a blue moon it was John there with the soft touches and the promises.  With Gordon it happened in the secrecy of their rooms, but with John it was with the secrecy of outside, the stars their only witness.

Between the four of them, Alan’s big brothers distributed them frequently, but sometimes, Alan returned the favour.  His brothers were only human, too, and they needed their own reassurances.  Just because Alan was the youngest, didn’t mean he couldn’t dish it out himself.

Gordon was the hydrofoil, freaking out when he couldn’t move and tears streaking down his face when it all bubbled up.  They tried to shield Alan from that, but there was only so much they could do and Alan refused to be kept from his brother.  He might never have seen Gordon at his absolute lowest points, but he saw him low and when it got too much, Alan leant over slowly, gently, returned all the reassurance Gordon had ever given him.

Virgil was when the world got too much for his soft-hearted brother and Alan found him sitting out on the cliffs, staring out at the ocean with tears in his eyes and despair at whatever had gone wrong that day tipping him over the edge.  The bear of the family didn’t try to push him away, often pulling him tightly for one of his famous hugs, but Alan could tell when it was for his brother’s benefit rather than his own.  When he was finally released, he’d lean up and press a kiss to his brother’s brow in return, getting a watery smile for the action.

John was scarce, affection always on his terms, which meant Alan was often left at a loss at how to comfort him when he retreated into himself and tried to shut out the world.  But he had a secret weapon, and that was space.  Whether it be Thunderbird Three or Thunderbird Five, gravity wasn’t around and that meant he could float up at eye level with his tall, tall, brother, and edge towards him in increments that just weren’t possible on Earth.  Then he’d wait, watching John closely for a reaction.  They were always subtle, one way or the other, and sometimes John retreated so Alan would stop.  But sometimes, sometimes, John gave him a little pleading look, and he’d close the gap for just a moment.  Brief and fleeting, but enough to coax the smallest twitch of a thankful smile before John went back to whatever he was doing.

Scott was hard to pin down.  Tall, with gravity working against Alan this time, biggest brother pulled up shields and defences and promised he was fine, Alan, don’t worry.  Worming his way past those barriers was tough, Scott’s instincts to always protect him from the bad things stubborn and not easily defeated, but Alan had the Tracy Stubbornness, too.  He’d catch him at the desk, staring at a hologram but not seeing it, and sneak over until he was close enough to wrap his arms around Scott’s shoulders, holding him in place long enough to press a firm kiss to his forehead - a reassurance but also a reminder that just because he was the youngest didn’t mean he couldn’t look out for his brothers just like the rest of them.  It got flipped around quickly - Scott’s reaction always to regain control and at the very least ruffle his hair reassuringly, promising he was fine - but for just a moment, Alan could help his biggest brother.

There were other occasions as well, sleeping brothers, injured brothers, and then Dad was back and there were more kisses pressed to his forehead from a father who had missed half his life and still struggled to see how much he’d grown.  Alan hadn’t managed to return those yet, but Dad was home now.  There would be plenty of time.

All the reassuring kisses promising it’ll be okay eight years ago had finally been proven right.

[wylanvnneck]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could write the angst prompt number 1 with jurdan??🥰

Angst Prompt #1: “The worst part is you didn’t even notice.”

Fandom: TFOTA

Ship: Jurdan

Masterlist | Prompt List

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High pitched giggles peal through the air and the noise makes the 21 year old Cardan Greenbriar wince. He’d been away from his hometown of Elfhame for 2 years now, having happily left it and his controlling family behind after graduation to go live in his dorm room back at Insmire University with his crazy roommates. Yet here he was, back again for a week-long visit in honour of his old friend Locke’s engagement.

He and Locke had never been all that close to begin with, but he had been his oldest friend, and it did seem like a good idea to come back for a bit and see how much things had changed in the years since he’d be gone, which didn’t seem to be all that much. 

Locke was still the same fox-faced wastrel that he had been, except that he was now engaged and the other member of their old gang, Valerian was still as snarky as usual, a perpetual sneer on his face whenever someone attempted to speak to him. Seated at a round outdoors table surrounded by his High School acquaintances, Cardan feels nothing but boredom.

He grips the neck of his wine glass even tighter when he sees the source of the giggling emerge from Locke’s house where his engagement party was being hosted. Taryn Duarte the Bride to Be and her posse of friends strut out into the garden from the inside of the house where they’d been gathered together doing goodness knows what for the past half hour. A glimpse of blue hair catches his eye and he recognises it as belonging to a girl named Nicasia that he used to be friends with back in High School, a million years ago.

Taryn’s six inch heels click against the asphalt of the garden path and the sight of her familiar icy brown eyes and dark hair brings up a volley of almost forgotten feelings within him. Not feelings for the rather cold female before him, but for who she reminded him of. Her twin.

Involuntarily he finds himself scanning the group of women for any sign of Taryn’s sister before coming up short and then chastising himself for looking in the first place. Jude belonged in the past where he had buried her. He takes another sip of the red wine in his hand before shifting his attention back to the conversations happening at his table, a politely unimpressed looking Garrett talked in low tones with his friend Van, both of them engrossed in whatever they were discussing, and a slightly inebriated Valerian was attempting to flirt with the disgusted woman seated next to him. 

Resisting the urge to let out a growl he downs the contents of his glass in one go before standing up to re-enter the house and get a refill, needing some kind of distraction.

He’s just finished pouring some more Merlot into his glass from the otherwise empty bar table when a rustling sound travels from somewhere nearby. He glances up at the staircase by the other end of the room, catching sight of a silky white fabric and dark brown hair before whoever it was disappears from view. Stange, he’d thought all of the other guests were outside. Setting his glass down on the table he climbs up the stairs, curiosity getting the better of him. 

Having reached the landing he searches for any sign of where the person might have gone, walking a little further down the hallway on the left before seeing the big French windows leading out to the balcony flung open, the cool night air drifting in.

Cautiously, he approaches, his body going on high alert when he notices who it is that’s standing out on the balcony, hands loosely clutching the metal rails and face turned up towards the starlit sky. Her chestnut hair is tied in an intricate braid hanging down her back and she’s wearing a slim fitting black top and flowy white pants which sway gently around her legs and she looks even more gorgeous than she had in their High School days. He takes a moment to catch his breath before slowly trudging forwards to join her.

She turns when she hears footsteps approaching, a slight frown marring her expression before she recognises him and it clears. Her gaze is as disarming as it used to be.

"Shit, man, don't just sneak up on people like that," a corner of her lip quirks.

He holds up his hands in mock surrender, "Oops, sorry."

“I didn’t know you were coming.” He catches the questioning lilt in her statement.

“It was a last minute kind of thing, I wasn’t sure if I’d be coming either, until yesterday.”

She nods and he positions himself next to her but at a safe distance, one hand coming to rest carelessly on the balcony rail next to hers.

He watches her let out a soft whoosh of breath, looking down at the garden where people were now dancing to the music that had started playing on the expensive speaker set under the bright fairy lights. There’s laughter and cigarette smoke wafting upwards, but from their little spot up above, everything seemed to be much farther away than it really was. 

Eventually, he breaks the silence. “So, Taryn and Locke, huh?”

“Yep.” She replies. The look on her face is one he can’t quite decipher.

He clears his throat and speaks in a tight voice. “Are you...upset by that? I know you and Locke used to be close.” 

He recalls the rumour that used to fly around during their senior year, people whispering about Jude and Locke having a thing. He also remembers the sharp pain that he’d felt when he’d heard that Locke had asked Jude to be his date to their Senior prom and that she’d accepted. Cardan vaguely remembers asking Nicasia to be his date to that very same prom, but the only thing that comes to mind when he thinks about that night is the haze of jealousy that had clouded his mind when he’d seen Locke twirling a grinning Jude around the dance floor.

“Me and Locke? God no. He was just a friend. Although, I think even that was only because he kept showing up and trying to talk to me in Senior Year for no apparent reason.” 

Cardan feels a surprisingly strong sense of relief wash over him at the fact that Jude was never interested in Locke that way, before his eyebrows knit together a moment later. He’d drunkenly confessed his ginormous crush on Jude to Locke at the start of their senior year, and immediately regretted it the next day. It wouldn’t surprise him if Locke had been cozying up to Jude simply to get on his nerves. It definitely seemed like something the manipulative scoundrel would do.

Not that it mattered anymore. Years had passed and he’d probably lost his chance. If he’d ever had the chance in the first place.

“I heard you’ve been off at uni all this time. Insmire, huh?” Her words are light but he’s slightly astonished that she’d been keeping track of where he’d been for the past few years. 

“Yeah, it was the break I needed.”

“What are you studying?”

“My dad wanted me to do Business for when I inherit his company, but I’m also doing a course on Classical and Ancient Languages, purely because I wanted to.”

“That’s great, Cardan.” Her sincerity is clear. “I remember how controlling your dad was. It’s great that you’re finally getting to be your own person.”

He’s sure that his astonishment at her words is blatantly obvious because a barely detectable flush travels up her neck and she averts her gaze. Not only had Jude Duarte been keeping track of where he’d been, she’d also noticed his strained relationship with his father all those years ago. A thrill rises up inside of him.

“Thank you.” He pauses. “So what have you been up to these days?” he asks, like he hasn’t been checking her social media pages at least once every few months, unwittingly grinning whenever he came across one of her rare posts with her and her few friends hanging out together outside of her own University in Nightfell. 

“Oh, same as you actually, getting a taste of independence at Uni. Doing a course on Criminal Justice.”

“That sounds amazing. Tell me all about it.”

And she does, her eyes lighting up as she talks about a subject that she enjoys studying and half of his attention is taken up by what she’s saying and the other half is just focused on her, on the way the moon illuminates one half of her and how the breeze is playing with a few loose strands of her hair and the way her mouth is moving whilst she speaks. They chat for what feels like ages before the conversation eventually flows to a comfortable halt and they hear the clanging of plates and glasses below as the other guests start on dinner, and he knows they’ll have to leave this place of idyll at some point.

He hates that. That they’re on borrowed time and that they were separated by too many years and very separate lives for their situation to be anything different now. And yet, he needs to tell her, to let her know, even if it can’t change anything.

“You know, back in High School I used to daydream about this. You and I, just talking.” He knows that the tips of his ears are probably flaming red, just like the rest of his head, but he forces himself not to look down and to keep meeting her stare. Her eyes widen when she registers what he’d said.

“I-What?” Her shock is apparent.

He breaks eye contact with her, withdrawing his hand from the spot next to hers on the rail, the disappointment coursing through him undeniable. He’d known that she’d never noticed him, but it still hurt to see the bafflement in her reaction.  

“I had a crush on you for ages, pathetic pining and all, and the worst part is you didn’t even notice.”

She flounders, mouth slightly agape, for once not having a response and the smile that curls his lips is one without mirth.

“Well, it’s been nice talking to you Jude,” he grits out, swiftly turning in an attempt to flee with what was left of his dignity.

He’d made it to the top of the staircase before hearing her voice calling after him. 

“Cardan! Cardan wait, goddammit.”

Reluctantly, he stops, bracing himself for the awkwardness of the next few minutes. She’d look at him with pity, explain to him that she wasn’t interested, or maybe that she had someone else. That last thought lances through him like a punch to the gut. During his self-indulgent social media searches he had never seen any posts that indicated that there was someone special in her life, but that didn’t necessarily mean that there wasn’t anyone. After all, Jude Duarte was a special type of woman, the type of woman that you fought for.

Too bad that he’d figured that out too late.

The sound of her boots clacking on the floor gets closer and closer and he turns around just in time for her to throw her arms around his neck and drag his head down to connect their lips, their noses bumping together in the process. Time stops, and his every High School fantasy comes true when he feels her tangle her tongue with his and it’s a little sloppy at first, especially since she had caught him off guard, but they find their rhythm and flames lick through his entire being. Frantically, he grabs a hold of her waist and pushes her until she’s against the wall, her fingers coming up to tangle in his locks as he strokes her sides.

She pulls away to breathe and they’re both panting harshly as if they had run a marathon. 

“I had a crush on you too. I hated it and I tried to fight it because you used to pick on me in middle school.” 

Had he? It was so long ago that he really couldn’t remember, but he also knew that he was precisely the type of person who’d want to hurt the girl that got under his skin.

“Really?” He grins ruefully.

“Yes, really.” She reaches up and playfully smacks the back of his head before carding her fingers through his hair in the same spot to soothe it.

‘Well, my middle school self humbly begs for your forgiveness.” He leans forward and presses their foreheads together, locking his gaze with hers.

“Apology accepted.”

And then they’re kissing once more. He may not have been prepared for a moment like this, but he was sure as hell going to hold on to it and never let go.

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Some soft boi Cardan for you lovely peeps. I hope you see this and that you enjoy, Anon. Thanks for the ask!

Tagging: @cupcakesandkittens , @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln, @thewickedkings , @kittkatandbooboo , @min-unicorn, @fangirlprincess09, @thefolkofthefic

Let me know if you’d like to be added to or taken off of the tag list🌻

[gucciwins]

Into You

Breakup’s bring heartache but they also bring a new beginning.

Word Count: 8658

A/N: Angst, it was fun to write. Honestly, I really loved this ending. I struggle with endings but this felt like the perfect one. Relationships take work and no communication can ruin that. Remember to love and to trust. I love you 

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Julia: Dinner at 7 Cafe Habana

Julia: He won't be there

You sigh at the sight of the second message. It's pathetic that your friends have to let you know, but you don't want to run right into him. It is the last thing you need but the thing you want most. 

Pathetic. 

Y/N: I'll be there x 

You look at the text you sent and sign grateful for her reaching out. You haven't seen your friends in a few weeks, and it's been months since you've been to your favorite restaurant. Everyone knows how hard it's been since the breakup. They aren't choosing sides, but sharing a lot of the same friends is hard. You live in the city, and he's always on the road, it's only fair he gets to go out with them because you know you'll have other opportunities. 

You wore a comfortable sundress and black flats, not wanting to drive in heels. A gold bracelet on your wrist, fingers bear no rings like you usually did. A ring tan sitting on your right index finger makes your eyes foggy, but you shake the thought away and enjoy the ride down PCH window down the ocean breeze coursing through your hair. Joni Mitchell on blast to overpower your thoughts of memories connected to this exact drive you're making. 

Walking in, you take a deep breath and smile as soon as you open the door. The smile drops instantly when you see who's sitting two seats away from Julia right next to Jeff. Brown curls and a broad back. Tattoo's on display. You see her mouth an apology and lifts her phone. You walk out without a second thought, hoping they didn't see you. 

Your phone rings once you're back in your car. It's Julia, so you answer.

"Hey babe, I didn't know I swear. He walked in with Jeff talking about how he was here for the weekend then going back home to London." 

"It's fine, toots." You sigh. 

"Are you doing okay?" She asks voice a bit low.

You're trying to choke back your tears, but it's hard. It's hard because he's so close yet so far. He seems fine, perfect even, and here you are crying in your car like a loser. 

"It hurts, and it hurts to know he's fine. He's not hurting like I am. I miss-" You cut yourself off as you feel your tears falling down like a waterfall. "I want the pain to pass." 

"Sweetie, do you want me to meet you at your apartment?" 

"No, just let them know my sister called me and that it was a family emergency, but everything is fine. I'm going to head to her house for the weekend. Hug, my nephews. Stuff my face in cupcakes." 

"As long as you promise to bring me one." 

You laugh for the first time in what feels like forever. "That I can do." 

"Next Saturday, Alex's birthday. Say you'll show up for him." 

"I'm there. Got his gift all wrapped up." 

"You're not alone." She reminds you. "Despite all you think, you're still our friend." 

"Thank you. I love you, toots." 

You know breakups are never easy, but this one flipped your entire world upside down. You're not sure what's up or down, left or right. All you know is you gotta keep putting one foot in front of the other.

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The music is loud. It hurts your head, and you can't hear yourself think.

It's perfect. 

It's been so long since you allowed yourself to go out and drink. A party with friends is a guaranteed good time.

You decided to dress up. The way you dress is an excellent way to hide your emotions or so you've been told. A black dress, your favorite black dress. The little back dress that every woman is supposed to own. You paired it with red heels your sister gifted you two Christmas ago. Makeup was simple, but you did go with a bold red lip. It always made you feel more confident. 

You're three shots in when you hear a voice behind you. You ignore it at first but turn around when they say your name. 

"Jake?" 

"In the flesh." He jokes.

"Oh my gosh!" You bring him in a hug before pulling back to get a good look at him. "I didn't know you were in town. Do you know Alex?"

"No, his sister is my girlfriend." 

Your eyes widen. "No, we talk once a week, and you've never mentioned the girlfriend. Since when?" You punch his shoulder. 

"We've been together close to eight months now." A big grin on his face.

"My best friend is all grown up. Committed relationship, met the family, next is moving in or baby if you're following your dad's footsteps." You tease.

"No, baby, but we are moving in together. My lease in Seattle is up, and she has hers for another year."

"I'm happy for you." You place a hand on his forearm, letting it rest there. "She's amazing, and we get along so well. It's perfect." 

He nods, and you keep chatting as if no time has passed. It's comfortable with Jake, he's been your best friend since childhood, and although your sister thought you'd end up together, it just didn't work. You kissed once, and it was like kissing a wall. It's a sibling love, one that will never fade. 

He clears his throat, causing you to look at him. "I heard about," You cut him off before he can continue.

"Think everyone has, but I'm good. I won't lie and say I've been fine because I haven't been, but I'm getting better." You tell him truthfully. 

"Was it bad?" 

You run a hand through your hair. "Awful. No yelling, we never liked to yell just lots of crying. I did the crying, and he did the heartbreaking." 

He nods and hands you another shot that you accept happily. 

"I was so lost the first week that I thought about moving from the state, the country." You laugh at the thought now. "But here is home, at least for now." 

"Have you seen him? I know he always disliked me."

"That is true, could never get him to see you were just Jess to my Cece." 

"Obviously, I was Cece." He fakes a hair flip.

"Well, of course, all I do is go home and break out singing to any song."

"Never change, buttercup." He kisses your head and then tenses up. 

"Think I'd be six feet under if laser eyes existed." 

"What makes you say that." You go to turn around, but he doesn't let you. 

"He's at a table with Alex. Drink in hand, looking our way, and he doesn't look happy. Do you think he's going to march this way?" His hold tight on you.

You groan and lay your head on his chest. "If he made eye contact with you, then yes, he'll be over soon, so that means you got to go find your girlfriend, and I need the bartender's attention." 

"Always a phone call away. We leave on Friday, dinner Wednesday." Jake walks away and quickly finds Annie. He whispers in her ear, and she looks your way. A big smile on her face and you blow her a kiss. She grabs it and stuffs it in her boobs. Annie's a weird one, but she's the best. 

Knowing he's watching you makes you uncomfortable. He wasn't supposed to be here, this was your night, and now you just want to cry, don't even care about drinking anymore. 

You walk out to the balcony and smile at the sight of the moon. LA doesn't allow much stargazing, but the moon always shines bright. Now would be a perfect time for a smoke, except you don't do that. Always were miss goody-two-shoes.

"Nice night." His voice interrupts your thoughts. "A bit chilly for Los Angeles." The deep, smooth voice sends chills down your body, not the weather.

"Weather is always unpredictable here." You mutter.

"How you've been," Harry asks, stepping closer. 

"Fabulous." 

Sarcastic answer. How typical of you. 

"I haven't been that good either." 

You're close to tears. "What do you want, Harry?"

"I wanted to check on you. Haven't seen you at any gathering of our friends." He twists his H ring, keeping his hands busy. "Bit worried." 

"They're your friends, don't get no right going anymore." 

Harry's three steps away. "Not true, everyone in there cares for you. Just because we-" He stops.

He can't even say it. He broke up with you, and he can't even say it. 

"They all love you."

"Yeah, well, I wish I loved myself." 

Harry flinches as if you've slapped him. The words hurt him, but not as much as they hurt you. 

"Don't say that, love." 

You turn to him. "I'm sure you want to be friends, and that's great, but I can't now." You let your tears run down your face, not caring that he can see. "I love you, and I was sure you were it for me, but I can't stand being around you without wanting your arms around me. I can't see you talk to everyone yet, not talk to me, but most importantly, I hate that I don't get to be the one going home with you anymore." 

Harry remains quiet. Green eyes are filled with tears. 

"You have to understand." 

"No" You step close to him, heart close to beating out of your chest. "You have to understand that you destroyed us for your career. To benefit yourself, not caring what you broke along the way. It's been one month, and all I can think is that I'm not good enough for Harry Styles, the rockstar. No, he needs another famous person on his arm, not an elementary school teacher who doesn't own a pair of Gucci shoes."

"Please let me," Harry's voice cracks.

"A year. Twelve months. 365 days. All for what, all for nothing. "I love you," and "we'll have a small wedding." It was all a lie. I was just kept around for fun while you took a break from touring. Maybe I'll be good enough to write a song about."

"You don't get to do that." He cries.

"Why not!" You tell. "You broke up with me with no warning out of the blue. We had sex on the kitchen counter, and fourteen hours later, you broke my heart." You have so much sadness and anger, and you know you're close to drowning. "I had no choice but to let you go, but for all I know, you've let go of me weeks before." 

"I don't know what to say." 

"You're not the man I thought you were." You walk away from the hand on the door. Your back to him, his shoulders are shaking in sobs. "That's the most disappointing thing, you lost yourself in the industry now you're just one of them." 

You walk out and catch Julia's eyes. She goes to step forward but stops herself when she sees you shake your head no. You can name everyone in that room, but you know that at the end of the day they'll pick Harry. 

It hurts, but all one can do is pick themselves up and move on.

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The days go by slow, but Summer has finally arrived. The California heat is only rising, but it’s a cooler day, and you're at the beach when you look over at your sister laughing as her husband splashes her with water. 

Your stomach twists in the worst ways possible, you're jealous and green isn't a good color. You've spent most of the time caring for your two nephews seeing as your sister and husband worked not that you minded you did have the summer off. 

It's been four months since the breakup, and some days it feels like it was yesterday. The pain comes crashing back when you wake up and stretch your hand out to touch him but tense up because you know when you open your eyes, he won't be there. 

Malibu beach is not a place you've frequented, but little Ty asked for this specifically, and none of you never learned how to tell him no. 

You close your book and grab your phone from the bottom of the bag. Slip your hoodie over your head, the breeze picking it up, and adjust your black shorts. You signal to Tess that you're going for a walk and that you have her phone. She sends a thumbs up. There you go on a walk with your back towards the sun. 

It's funny, before dating Harry you walked the beach every Sunday on your own. Enjoying the laugh of families and the seagulls flying high. Then he joined you and together hand in hand, you'd walk down talking and sometimes just taking in the silence allowing the waves to do all the talking for you. Towards the end, he'd convince you to stay in and cuddle him, and beach Sunday became cuddle Sundays. You can’t remember a time you did go on a walk alone again when you were with him. 

In the end, you lost both. Lost Harry and lost the love of the ocean because of the painful memories tied to it. With time you must remember the things lost and changed, but this is something you're reclaiming. Routine is constant and good. It gives stability and strength. 

"Sweetie," you hear someone yell but keep on walking. It's probably a child going in too deep. 

You stop when you hear your name being yelled and turn expecting to see Tess but instead are met with kind blue eyes. A sincere smile on her face. It's Anne. 

"Oh dear, thought it was you." She says. 

"Hi, Anne." You say a bright look of surprise on your face. 

Anne steps in close and puts her arms around you in a big hug. A mother's embrace is one you've longed for and will continue to long for the rest of your life. Anne treated you as a daughter from the moment you met, and that's something you're sad to have lost. 

"You look so tan, how long have you been in town?" You ask, admiring her as you pull away. 

"A week. Came down to visit Harry." She offers a small smile at the name of her son.

"That's great. Summer's a good time to enjoy the ocean here." Anne nods, agreeing. "How were you able to spot me?" You ask genuinely surprised she was able to do so. 

"I'd recognize you anywhere. The yellow jumper helped."

You look down and chuckle. "It does shout "look at me."" 

You stand there a few more seconds looking around nervous to ask her to join you, but you really liked her company, and as much as you like being alone now was not the time.

"I was just walking down, would you like to join me?" You look down at your toes afraid she'd say no. 

"Oh, yes, my dear. Sounds fantastic." 

She takes a step forward, and off you go. It's quiet, not the uncomfortable kind, but allows you to get lost in your own thoughts with no pressure of not starting a conversation. Your thoughts are calm, it might be the ocean or Anne, but you're grateful. Losing Harry wasn't just losing him, it was losing everyone that he introduced you to. You were friends for over a year before you started to date. You met Anne a month into the friendship, and it was easy. She doted on you for your kind and quiet nature. She had said something about your aura being pure. 

You didn't have a mom, she died when you were three in a car accident. Your dad being in and out of rehab but enough to keep the roof over your head. Once Tess turned eighteen, she got an apartment and moved you both in. At eleven years old, you got the call your dad died. Tess adopted you, and ever since then, it was the two of you. That is until she met Andrew in a biology class. He helped Tess pass with an A. Turns out that he was studying to be a doctor. They started dating once the semester was over and didn't look back. Tess was always a good student, maintaining A's and B's while caring for you. Andrew learned of the situation and didn't leave like most people would do no, he stayed right there. He became a constant and even began to help with school work and projects. You always told Tess that you were preparing her to be a great mom. Andrew's family was very accepting of Tess; they treated her as their own, but you never felt like you belonged. It was the perfect family, but you didn't see where you fit in. Tess knew that, but she reminded you that she wasn't going to walk away from you that you would always be her number one. To this day, it stands true, obviously falling a little under her children, but love still strong. 

But with Anne, she didn't see you as someone broken or lost but someone who needed a bit more love. Love is what she has given you, she became your friend, someone you could trust in along with Gemma. It felt like your world was falling apart when Harry broke up with you because you couldn't turn to them, and your sister had her family to worry about. You always were good at becoming unseen when needed. Never wanting to be a bother. Except, here with her by your side, you don't know how you're supposed to let her go. 

Anne stops walking and takes a seat in the sand, placing her sandals by her side, and you join her without questioning her. 

"I waited for your phone call. Every day for the past week when Harry gave me the news even though I knew you wouldn't call." Anne cleared her throat softly. "I hoped you would."

You sigh. Those words were enough to bring tears to your eyes. You thought you were dried out of tears, but you were wrong. "I was close on many nights but- I-I it felt wrong too. He's your son, how could I do that to him?"

"He may be my son, but you're important too. My heart has enough space in there for you in a relationship with him or not."

You nod. Trying to wrap that around your head that she loves you even though Harry does not.

"The breakup came out of nowhere. The day before we're fine talking about adopting a cat and the next, he sits me down to tell me we're breaking up." You block the memories trying to resurface and trace small circles on the sand. 

You did out a seashell and cleaned it off before asking your question.

"Did he tell you why he was doing it?" It hurts to ask, but you need to know if he was honest with her.

Anne sighs but nods. "He said that it wasn't going to work out. You couldn't handle the public eye anymore and that it would only continue to affect you and your job. Said something about not fitting the image." 

A tear falls down, but you're quick to wipe it away. "He sat me down and told me we were breaking up. Didn't let me ask why or anything. A year together is nothing in this industry, we barely made it a month to the public eye. You'll be forgotten quickly, also tell me that because he was working on the new album, he needed an image more than the one he had." 

"That's not who I raised him to be," Anne says, disappointment evident in her voice.

"Although he broke my heart, I still love him. I still love him as much as I did when we first got together. I just don't trust him." 

Anne grabs your hand and links it together. She anchors you together because although she knows that she said you can count on her, this would most likely be the end of your relationship. Neither of you wants to admit it. 

"It's funny, the first month I avoided every place we ever went together, and it was hard because we did a lot around here. There are roads I avoid completely. This is my second time back at this beach, and I loved it here." You run a hand through your tangled hair due to the ocean breeze. "But now I'm going back to these places, and I pray every time I get out of the car not to run into him even though that's exactly what I want to happen. It's cliche, I know, but I really did lose my best friend." The tears are falling silently, and you are grateful Anne doesn't comment on it, but you swear you can see her eyes glisten. You rest your head on her shoulder and look out at the waves, no clouds in sight, just a clear blue sky. How you wish your brain would look this blank. 

There's so much you want to tell Harry now months after the breakup, but there's the fear of breaking down in front of him.

"Anne" 

"Yes, darling." She responds softly. 

"I-I uh-" You clear your throat. "If I were to give you a letter to Harry, would you give it to him. There are some things I need to get off my chest, and he needs to know." 

"That I can do." 

You sit up and grab both her hands and bring them to your chest. She looks at your love and sadness in her eyes. "You can only give it to him when you know he's better. He will need to hear this later when our hearts don't ache as much. When you as a mom realize he needs it. It'll be the closure we both need."

"I promise."

You make plans to meet for breakfast the next morning as she has no plans and knows he's busy. You'll deliver the letter and be on your way, closing that door behind you. You spend half an hour together more before you walk her down to the pier and make your way back to your sister. Heart heavy but not as broken.

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You roll over and smile when you see Harry still asleep. He's lying on his stomach, and his head turned in your direction. You lay on your side, happy to admire him. There's a hint of a smile on his face, must be from the dream he is having. His long eyelashes resting on his cheeks, looking delicate and fragile. Not an inch of stress on his face. You can't help yourself and bring your index finger up to trace over his plump pink lips. Soft. You stop when you see him twitch a little but continue when he lets out a small snore. The room is quiet; your apartment is not located on a busy street, something your sister said was a must for when your nephews came to stay. You let Harry rest and get up going to the living room. You sit on the floor looking out at the window at the birds flying around, chirping away basking in the morning sun. You hear the creek of your door and know Harry is on his hunt for you. He's clumsy, so you won't be surprised if he crashes into the couch. He still must be tired. You hear a quiet "shit" and let out a chuckle. He stumbled around the corner with his misplaced shoes. You don't comment on it knowing he'd just turn the blame on you because he got out of bed for you. 

"Poppet, after last night, I thought you'd like to wake up in my arms." Harry sits behind you, the blanket wrapped around him now being placed over you as he drags you into his lap. 

"I'm an early riser, you know that." 

He sighs into your ear. "Means I didn't tire you out enough last night."

"Oh no, you did just that. The bruises are proof."

He laughs and kisses your neck lightly three times. 

"Coffee in the kitchen if you want some. Also, some muffins Gabby bought me for taking her dog on the hike with me."

"I want something else for breakfast." He whispers into your ear. His hand sliding up your thigh. He's met with your black shorts, he knows there is nothing underneath seeing as he put these on for you. "Will you let me?"

"Only cause you asked nicely." 

Harry is quick to lay you on your back. Your shorts come off just as quickly, he pushes your shirt up to expose your breasts. He sits back on his knees and allows you to see how hard he is in his shorts.  

"You're beautiful" He breathes out. "A true dream." 

"You told me that last night repeatedly." You remind him how he whispered in your ear at dinner with your friends around how the red dress had him hard as soon as he saw you walk in. You knew that if he picked you up, you would not have left your apartment. The night ended precisely how you wanted with Harry in your bed. Three months dating, it felt right. 

It was perfect. 

He leans in, placing small kisses on your calves, slowly moving up to your thighs. He kissed last night's bruises gently, a reminder of how rough he got once he got a taste of you. It drove him crazy. 

"Smell so sweet." He dragged his lips up to your core. His tongue between your folds, you moan softly under him. He pressed little kisses to your clit, you felt him smiling against you when he felt your thighs begin to tremble.

You let out a louder moan when he slipped a finger inside, your hands reached down to grasp at his hair. He pulled back to look up at you with dark eyes, smiling at you with wet lips. 

"You're a tease, baby." You breathe out as he slips in a second finger. He moves slowly, building up the pressure. 

He brings his mouth back down to your clit, gently grazing his teeth over it. 

"Oh, fuck!" You gasp. 

"C'mon poppet, come for me." A moan leaves your lips when his tongue picks up speed, making up for the loss of his fingers. "Please, let go for me."

You grip his hair harder, letting your orgasm take over your whole body. His tongue slowing down as you throw your head back and lay your hands on your side. He slowly works you through it until he sees your breathing come down, gentle kisses to your hips. He works up until he gets to your breasts. He leans in kissing each one gently. "Sorry, I neglected these beauties. I got so lost in you." 

Harry continues to move slowly, but you have had enough of slow. You pull him up into your arms, until he settles on top and kiss him until it leaves you breathless. 

You taste yourself on him, Harry kissing you harder as your hand begins to trail down to his shorts. He breaks the kiss and leans your head left, giving him more access to your neck, which he accepts quickly. He's slow and gentle compared to last night. 

"Going to let me make love to you, poppet." You nod wishing he'd move quicker as he kicks his shorts away. 

“Yes” You whisper, he’s building up the anticipation. 

He lines himself up, slowly pushing in. You let out a whispered fuck at his size. He goes in gently, not wanting to hurt you, always wanting you to feel good. 

Harry leans forward, kissing you as he begins to move against you. 

"Baby," You breathe out. "B-baby-y-y faster." 

Harry keeps your lips close, his breathing picking up. Whispered words against your lips. “I'm going to make love to you for the rest of my life. It's you and me, poppet." 

Your eyes shoot open, and you're quick to look around. You're in bed, left side empty. 

He's not here. 

He hasn't been here for months. Why does he keep coming back? Your brain needs to let him go, but you know that isn't the one holding on to him. 

You get out of bed and walk to the kitchen for a glass of water. There has never been an easy way to move on. This letter might be the best start.

 Harry,

I love you. I'll always love you. 

That's hard to stay, but it's the truth. You are my best friend. Remember the first time we talked on the phone and how we didn't want to hang up, so we talked about everything. From my first broken bone to your job at a bakery. You told me all about your childhood and all your dreams. At that time, I thought I would be at your side cheering you on as you were accomplishing them but that’s not the case. Just know that I'll be rooting for you.

I'm sorry I didn't fight for you. Guess it seemed like I didn't love you, but I did. I do. I think only ever having my sister on my side, I never realized I never learned to fight for those I love. Never doubt my love, it's real.

Don't be afraid to move on and love again, you deserve it. You deserve the greatest love out there. 

Remember, just because you love summer doesn't mean it can stay because who knows what October can bring. 

Maybe one day we'll find a way back into each other's lives, but until then, take care, H. 

Y/N

You put it in the envelope and seal it. You write his name on the front. 

It's time to close the chapter, time to move onto the next. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*     ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*     ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

October has finally rolled in, and you couldn't be more excited. Autumn brings in the cold and the changing of the leaves, but if you were to ask the students, it just means candy. For the month each Friday, a new activity is done in honor of Halloween. Your classroom is decorated in pictures drawn of your student's favorite movies. As well as small pumpkin string lights your sister gifted you last year. Your classroom door has black paper covering it and white ghosts—22 one for each student with their name on them stuck to it. You added caution tape to give it more detail. Then added small pumpkins around. It reads "Spooky Students" the class had a good laugh at the name, proper pleased. 

The first week was simple, doing a math game. 

Candy corn math. 

The children enjoyed it, all having fun adding and subtracting. Tina ate one and almost cried because she thought she'd get in trouble. You assured her it was all for fun. Then let them all eat their treats as you played them Halloween music. Fridays are meant to relax and have fun. That's exactly what you show your students. 

The second week they make spider headbands. Grace, your teacher assistant, helps with the cutting and stapling. The students enjoy gluing the spider's eyes most. It's an easy project when the students are focused on it. You have an hour of the day left and decide to play, It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown. It's starting, and as you're organizing the glues and packing away the scissors in their pencil boxes, Nicole, the front desk assistant, tells you there's a package you have to sign for. You nod to Grace to look over the class, and she gives you a thumbs up in return. As you reach the main office, you see a baker with two boxes chatting with Matthew Collins, the Vice-Principal. 

"Good afternoon gentlemen, I assume this is for me." You say, pointing to the pink boxes. 

"Good afternoon, got your kids treats, I see." He acknowledges. 

You shake your head, stepping to look at the note sitting on top of the box. You flip it open. 

Figured you and the children deserved a sweet treat. Take care, honey. xx Anne 

PS: A dozen snickerdoodle cookies are waiting for you at home. 

Anne, always so sweet and thoughtful. You had kept in contact with her after that time you handed her the letter. You came to realize you couldn't lose her, and she wasn't about to let you go without a fight. 

"A good friend actually sent them, knows how excited we get for October." You tuck the note in your cardigan pocket. 

"Well, that's a great friend to have. I hope your class and you enjoy it. Have a great weekend." Mr. Collins leaves, and you bid goodbye to the baker. 

As you make your way back to your class with two dozen cupcakes, you can't wipe the grin on your face. They are going to be so excited. The cupcakes are half chocolate and half vanilla. The orange frosting swirled beautifully on each one, each topped with a spider ring. 

You return, and all the kids are focused on the scene when Sally begins to yell at Linus as he's waking up for making her miss the Halloween festivities. Grace is quick to help you tell the kids you have a surprise for them all. The movie still plays as Grace places napkins on their desks. 

"A friend sent me a treat for you all because she heard how wonderful you've been doing." You tell them slowly approaching closer for them to see the box in your hand. "Say, do any of you like cupcakes." Cheers filled the room with your words. 

You both worked fast to give them each a cupcake of choice, no arguing whatsoever. Kind students you have. Grace grabs chocolate, and you grab the last vanilla for yourself. Grace lets you know she's going to get waters from the cafeteria to give to them. 

You sit at the back counter legs cup, leaning against a llama poster that says, "We love learning." A small gift for Julia. You grab the cupcake and fix your spider headband before taking a picture to send to Anne. 

Y/N: Cupcakes were a real success. I can't thank you enough. Love you, xx.

Anne: Don't you look precious. 

Anne: Glad, you all enjoyed it. Love you xx

It's an excellent way to end the week with a sweet treat from Anne and good old classic Charlie Brown. 

It is now the third week. The four first grade classes made a trip to the pumpkin patch. The school budget did get slightly raised this year, allowing you to buy small easy to carry pumpkins for each student. Parent chaperones are enabling you to make smaller groups to take each student to different activities. Your small group of six decided on the slide mountain that was atop of bales. It was fun, even going down yourself. Then that led you to picking pumpkins. Joey has trouble deciding before leaving the slightly bigger one when his arms got tired. You decided to get two big ones and two small pumpkins to take to your sister's house and you could carve together this weekend. It was now your turn for the hayride, and Chloe was really excited. She was the first one on, and as the trip went on, her head kept turning, wanting to see it all. This place really outdoes themselves each year, decorations only getting better. As it was closing time to go back to school, all students sat at the tables awaiting their apple cider and cinnamon-sugar donuts. 

You were about to take a seat next to Henry, the shyest student in your class when your name is called. You turn around and see Jeff, Harry's manager, and friend. 

"Hi Jeff," You step close and accept the hug he offers. 

"How have you been?" He asks.

You nod. "Good, welcoming the cold weather."

"It is nice."

Your grin begins to fade slightly as the small talk gets awkward. It's been a long time since you've seen Jeff. Not at all, forgetting how important a friend he was to you as well as Glenne. 

"What brings you here?" 

"On a class field trip." You gesture to the table behind you, seeing the kids sneak glances at you. 

"That is wonderful, good class this year?" 

You grin thinking about each of your students. "The best."

"Her cider is getting cold." Susan whispers, the small wide-eyed blonde says to Joey, worrying for you. 

"I've got to go back, probably going to bomb me in questions as soon as I sit."

"Of course." Jeff smiles in understanding.

"Tell Glenne I say hello. Take care, Jeff." 

You turn around, heading to the table. You laugh as your students quiet down as you take a seat. 

"Alright, what do you want to know now?"

The students always take your mind off everything. No conversation is ever dull, still trying their best to find out more about their teacher. 

Although seeing Jeff was nice, he's not the person you wished to run into every day. 

No, that someone has beautiful brown curls and emerald green eyes. 

The end of day breezes by, back in the classroom, the students grabbed their backpacks and walked out front to meet their parents. As you tidy up the classroom, Grace walks in a tight smile on her face. You know she has something to ask, but don't pressure her to do so. 

"Was that man a friend, we saw you with," Grace asks, wiping down the desks, "mom's were gossiping, thinking you were being asked out or was an old flame. Don't have to tell me, but he did look like a friend, at least an old one." 

You close your planner, happy with the coming week's plan. "My ex's friend.." You explain. "We were close. He was always kind and welcoming. Lost a lot of people during the breakup." 

She shoots you a small smile. "Never easy, but you don't get through it alone. Some people are meant to come into your life as lessons." 

Grace's optimism never fails to make you grin. "That is really nice to hear." 

"I keep waiting for the grand gesture for my ex to sweep me off my feet." Talking about this, tears at your heart, but it has weighed you down. "I just want to run into him. Go to our favorite places in hopes of seeing him even just for a moment." 

"That means you're not ready to put yourself out there?" Her voice was full of curiosity.

"Correct. I love Harry, I always will, but my heart seems to be holding on for some reason." 

"I'm a phone call away if you ever want to get drunk and watch movies and eat our weight in food." She offers sincerely.

"I'll keep that in mind." 

Grace bids you goodbye and walks out. It's nice to be reminded you have people around you supporting you, but all you want today is to see the sunset and you know just the spot.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*     ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*     ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Malibu is known for having the best spots for the ocean view and standing here, a blanket wrapped around you, hearing the waves continue to crash with the rocks below you believe it is. You came here because you know not many people know about this location and if the other two cars there say anything about it continues to be unknown. 

Growing up in Southern California, you have always been grateful to have the ocean nearby. You and your sister would always make your way here to celebrate good days or to clear your head. You spent your day here when you got accepted into UCLA and when Andrew proposed to Tess. This place is full of good memories; it's like being there all the bad in your life disappears. Bringing Harry here for the first time was a big step in your relationship, it was you letting him get to know you, no barriers in the way. 

You hear a car pull up, but don't bother looking over thinking the person might be heading down the trail. It's a couple, and you can hear the girl whisper something then heads off to the dirt trail. You're not sure how long you stand there when you take one final look before unwrapping the blanket and placing it in your trunk. Just as you are about to close it, you hear your name called. 

You turn around quickly and are surprised to see him. You weren't even aware he was here, last you heard he was on the last leg of his world tour. 

He's dressed in a black Columbia hoodie, grey Nike shorts, and black running shoes. His hair has beautiful long curls, and he's got a clean-shaven face, always made him look younger but does give a good view of his strong jawline.

"Harry," You breathe out. 

Your heart is beating so fast you think it might jump out of your chest. You've been waiting for the day you run into him, but it was not today.

It might be the worst day. After a field trip with first graders, no one is making out as clean as they arrived that morning. Your lavender knitted sweater has sugar stains, and your old blue jeans have dirt on your knees from kneeling to help with the pumpkins. You wore old black converse never bothered with the dust, but this time you wish you had your back up pair. You don't even want to imagine how your hair looks. You snap out of your thoughts when Harry stops giving you a once over and breaks the silence.

"I always seem to find my way here." He tells you, looking down at his shoes. 

You sit in your open trunk of your CR-V and scoot over to let him know to sit. He does so without saying more. It's a heavy silence, but you don't give it much thought looking out at the ocean. 

"I got your letter." 

The letter you wrote four months ago. If you're honest, you didn't think back to that since you handed it over to Anne. 

"When?" You questioned.

"Two weeks ago," He looks over at you, staring at you, waiting for you to look over at him. "How long did mum have it?"

You lock eyes with him, his eyes filled with curiosity and kindness. "Since June." You look away, not able to take in all the emotions coming up. "Guess you were finally ready for it."

Harry nods and stands up, and he walks a few steps before making his way back to stand in front of you. He looks nervous about sharing, and all you can do is offer him a smile. He lets out a deep breath. 

"I went on this date that Jeff set up for me, and it was awful. Nice girl, but everything felt wrong. It was wrong." He runs a hand through his loose curls as if to get rid of the nerves. "I looked at her, closed my eyes, and opened them, and the person I wanted it to be was not in front of me." 

Harry's looking at you as you try to wrap your head around his words. You don't know how to respond. He was waiting for you, but he was the one who left you. 

"You didn't realize it until then?" You're confused. It took him eight months to realize he made a mistake. 

He stares right at you, not wanting you to miss his next words. "I realized it the second you walked out the door." 

Your face drops at his words. 

Harry runs a hand down his face before taking a step forward. "I tried to find you. I would go all over Los Angeles hoping to run into you, but I stopped after the party when you told me the truth." 

"I was harsh, felt awful at how I handled it afterward." 

"Don't apologize," he gives you a half-smile, "I deserved that. Honestly, I needed it." 

You both go silent. You're staring at one another, memorizing each other's faces that you had begun to forget. You could stare at Harry forever, and you always told him that he had a face one could get lost in forever, finding new details to memorize. 

"Do you even remember that night?" You ask because you know you do. It used to haunt your dreams until it didn't. That day no longer lingers at the back of your head, but if you think back to it, all the emotions come again, hitting you harder than ever.

Harry sighs, "Every time I close my eyes." 

You walk into your apartment, surprised at the quietness. Harry always liked to have music playing. He's sitting on the couch staring at the black screen of his phone. 

"H, ready to cook dinner, got home early because you said you wanted lasagna tonight. Always faster when we cook together." Stepping closer to see why he's sitting so still on the couch. 

"Sit with me." He whispers, patting the seat next to him. 

You sit down, reaching to grab his hand, and he lets you. He squeezes it tightly before letting go. 

"I love you." His eyes meet yours. He looks in pain. "But I'm breaking up with you."

A million thoughts run through your head. Harry's breaking up with you. He's leaving you.

He looks at you, waiting for you to say something. "It's not easy for me, but it's what's best for my career. I will be going back on tour soon, releasing a single. You wouldn't handle all the attention with paparazzi well, so I'm saving you. It's easier for others in the business, but you wouldn't survive this" 

His words cut daggers into your heart.

It's best for my career.

It keeps repeating in your head, his job, he doesn't think you're enough for his lifestyle. You weren't enough to keep him happy.

"Harry, it doesn't-" The tears are rolling down your face, you can tell he wants to reach over to wipe them, but he holds himself back. "So this is it?" 

He nods. "The end for us, but we can-" You cut him off before he can say, friends. 

You already had him in your life as a friend. You can't go back to that not after knowing how he loves being the little spoon, how much he loves his hair being played with, but most importantly, how kind and gentle of a lover he is. He has so much love to give and do not receive that any more will break your heart: no kisses, no hugs, and no love. 

You grab your keys, bag, and slip your shoes on. "Goodbye, Harry." 

He stands eyes red, he looks sad, but he has no right. He wanted this, not you. His house had become a second home, but now you feel like an unwelcome guest. You walk out without looking back each step towards your car, making you cry harder. 

This is the end. An end, you never saw coming.

It seems like you were both lost in the memory when you hear Harry begin to weep quietly. Your heart pulls you in two ways, wanting to comfort him or sitting there, letting him cry, but before you can decide, he's wiping his tears.

He lifts his head to meet your eyes, his eyes keep filling with tears, but he doesn't bother to wipe them anymore. "Are you happy?" he whispered.

You nod a small smile on your face to assure him. "I am. I'm not sad and miserable anymore, but I'm also not filled with sunshine. I lost a lot when we broke up; you have to know that," He nods letting you know he's listening. "I also found myself, found love I lost over the years. Found love in me." 

He smiles when he hears that his dimples were coming out. "That day at the party, I was in the worst place possible, but I reached out to my sister and told her I needed therapy. I wouldn't have gone if it weren't for my sister's support. Honestly, you were in the back of my mind because you shared to me how important and impactful it was for you, and I know I had so much to share not just from the breakup but from my childhood." 

"I'm glad." He chokes out his voice, rough from crying. 

"I am too." You smile because this is nice. All the running you did didn't allow you to talk with Harry, but the time has come, and you're grateful for that. 

"I wasn't planning on coming up here today, obviously," You gesture to your dirty clothes. "I had that pull to come here as soon as I was pulling out of the school parking." You confess to him.

"I finished a yoga class and was on my way home when I took the wrong exit," Harry corrects himself, "Or well the right turn looking at it now." 

You're not sure where you stand with Harry, but you both know the feelings are still there. As if they never left. 

"We can't pick up where we left off." 

Harry nods, agreeing. "In that case, may I take you out on a date Sunday?" 

"I'd love that, Harry." 

You stand up and pull him in for a hug. You know you surprise him because he tenses up before wrapping his arms around you. You sigh as you feel Harry squeeze you tight. He breathes you in, and you can't help but let out a small laugh. 

"Did you just sniff me?" You're laughing against his chest feeling his heartbeat pick up.

"Oi, don't laugh at me. You smell like strawberries." He defends. 

"Pretty sure I smell like dirt and sweat. A field trip running around kids will do that to you."

"I disagree." He pulls back to look down at you, but you keep your head on his chest, liking being in his arms. "Always smell great." 

You move to pull back, thinking it must be too much too soon for both of you, but Harry doesn't let you. He holds on tighter. "Couple more minutes, please love," He whispers against your hair. You nod and let him begin to sway you both gently as if you were both ones with the wind. 

"Is it too forward to ask to kiss you?" Harry asks timidly.

You lean back and laugh before looking up at him, his eyes hopeful but also knowing. "It is." 

"It was worth a shot." 

Harry leans in to gently press a kiss to your forehead, his lips soft. He steps back after a few seconds. "I'll call you."

You nod. "Please do."

Harry holds his car door open but makes no move to step in as if waiting for something. You don't want him to leave. 

"Harry," You call out. He turns around and shoots you a cheesy smile causing you to smile back. "I really want you to kiss me, trust me but," 

Harry nods in understanding. "Slow and steady, love." 

You stare at him, and his eyes are bright and hopeful. Hopeful in their future together. "Slow and steady, we can do that."

Just like that, you and Harry both drive away from each other, but your future together has never looked brighter.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Thank you for reading! I love you 

Come talk to me and tell me what you thought of Into You 

[davidpastrsnack]

drive (pt. 1) - matthew tkachuk

a/n: slow burn friends to lovers is my shit and so is matthew so here we are. the name is inspired by the song drive by halsey, a classic friends to lovers anthem. i hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think!

After three months of freedom with you friends and family, the summer was finally coming to an end. To celebrate, you and your close group decided to rent a house on the lake for the weekend, clear of all parents and responsibility. When Friday morning rolled around you finished packing your bag before heading off with your two partners in crime, Matthew and Brady. 

You grew up in St. Louis, quickly becoming acquainted with the Tkachuk family when your dad accepted a position within the Blues management with Keith. For as long as you could remember, they were your best friends, but especially Matthew. He was the closest in age to you and since day one you were inseparable.

There was no denying that his move to Calgary took a toll on your relationship. You texted every now and then, but it was obvious that you had two seperate lives that the other wasn’t a part of. But despite this, every summer it was like you were still those twelve year olds running around as if nothing had changed.. Except now you two got into a lot more trouble together. 

Matthew was driving and you sat in the passenger seat, always forcing Brady in the back for as long as you could remember. They were bickering about Matthew’s choice of music and you started to zone out, getting lost in the scenery as you traveled further and further from the city. 

The reality of summer ending was starting to hit you. You had graduated college just a few months ago, yet nothing career wise seemed to be panning out. Your parents reminded you not to worry, that you could stay with them until something came together, but it made hearing all your friends’ plans for the year that much harder. You were over the moon for them, but each time it felt like a reminder of your failure. 

You were suddenly pulled out of your trance by the pest in the backseat, feeling him poke your shoulder repeatedly. 

“Hello? Earth to Y/N,” Brady joked. 

“Sorry,” you shook your head. “What?” you asked, turning to face the blonde. 

“Can you go on aux? I can’t listen to his shit any longer.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes as you connected to the bluetooth in Matthew’s far too expensive car. 

“Will you relax?” Matthew muttered to you. “You promised me you wouldn’t stress about anything this weekend,” he pleaded, placing his free hand just above your bare knee. 

“How long have you known me? Seriously, when am I not stressing?” you retorted, raising your gaze to meet with his ice blue eyes. 

“Fair enough,” he chuckled. “But just try, please.”

“You two are something,” you heard from the backseat, shifting to glare at Brady.  

Just like that, Matthew’s hand slipped from it’s post on your leg, moving to turn up the music to shut up his brother. 

-----

After finally arriving at the lake later that evening, you all decided to go out to the local bar, a classic, dingy spot that always seemed to make the best memories. You were sharing a room with your close friend Emma, right across the hall from the boys. You got ready with the other girls, opting for a simple outfit of jeans, a white top, and sneakers. The air was hot and thick as soon as you walked in, and you moved straight to get a drink. 

Hours later, everyone was having a great time, letting loose for one last weekend before reality struck. You had just enough alcohol running through your veins for a fun buzz, but you weren’t too far gone yet. You and Emma were dancing, totally lost in the beat of the music when your face suddenly dropped. 

There was no way. 

But unfortunately your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you. Your ex-boyfriend had just walked in with his posse, catching your glance right away and sending you a sick smirk. You hadn’t seen Logan in over a year, but of course here he was the night you were finally able to relax with your friends. Your buzz seemingly disappeared instantly, and you left the girls to go sit at the booth with the guys. You slid in next to Matthew, his arm instinctually wrapping around your shoulders as he kept listening to the conversation. 

It didn’t take long for him to figure out that something was off with you, he could feel the tension in your body beneath his grasp. 

He lowered his head to be level with your ear, “You good?”

You didn’t want to tell him what was wrong, knowing he would have no restraint. To put it simply, Matthew never liked Logan, but especially not after what he put you through during the breakup. 

You nodded, giving him a soft smile. “I just need another drink,” you deflected, slipping from under his arm to get up. 

“Wait,” he grabbed your wrist, “I’ll come.”

He didn’t know what was going on, but he had a gut feeling that he shouldn’t let you go alone. 

And he was right. As soon as you guys made it to the bar Matthew locked eyes with Logan. 

“Y/N, is that…” he trailed off, not wanting to freak you out. 

You turned to look where he was, sighing as you saw Logan standing across from you two. 

“Yup, it is,” you said, letting out a nervous laugh. 

Matthew’s energy shifted immediately, exactly how it does when he’s on the ice. His light eyes darkened and he visibly stood taller, glaring in Logan’s direction. 

“Matthew,” you warned. “It’s fine. Just leave it alone. Please,” you begged, wrapping your hand around his bicep in hopes of calming him down. You didn’t want anyone to make a scene, and you knew that’s exactly what would happen if the two of them got any closer to each other. 

Just like you thought, your touch made him snap out of his trance, looking back down at you. 

“Fine, but if he comes any closer I make no promises,” he declared. 

After getting your drinks the two of you stayed put, listening to Matthew ramble about the upcoming season. Logan hadn’t moved, but your back was turned to him so you couldn’t see.

But Matthew could, and he most definitely noticed that he seemed to be inching closer to you, his destination obvious. 

The gears in Matthew’s mind started moving right away. He needed to get him away from you but he knew you would kill him if he made a big deal about it. 

You were mid-sentence when he panicked. 

“Kiss me,” he interrupted. 

You were stunned, the shock evident on your face. “What-”

Before you could get another word out, Matthew was grabbing your face and bringing your lips to his. Despite being beyond startled and confused, your body took over and you melted into him. Your lips moved together like they were made for each other, his tongue working perfectly with yours. Your hands moved up his chest and circled around his neck, gently tugging his curls. One of his much bigger hands dropped to your waist, urging you to arch into him. 

Matthew was so lost in the moment that he forgot why he kissed you in the first place. He just couldn’t seem to pull himself away, a fire ignited deep within him by your touch. But finally he slowed his lips, gently separating from you and lifting his eyes to scan the bar. It worked, Logan was sitting on a stool with his back facing you both. Message received, loud and clear. 

You slipped your hands from his neck, quietly trying to catch your breath as Matthew leaned over your shoulder. After a few seconds he looked back down at you, a cocky, but sweet, smile on his face. It took everything within you not to stare at his lips, pink and swollen, but you quickly snapped out of it when it hit you what had just happened. 

You hit his chest, making him stumble back slightly, not expecting it. 

“What the hell was that?” you questioned. It wasn’t that you were angry, but now you were forced to confront your feelings for the man in front of you. You obviously weren’t blind to his looks and charm, but you had always admired them from afar, never challenging your status as friend. And you were truly at peace with that, but now that you had a taste of him you wanted more. 

His face was laced with nerves, realizing he might have really crossed the line. But then again, you didn’t seem to mind. 

“I’m sorry, I-, Logan looked like he was coming over and I didn’t want him to but you didn’t want me to make a scene so I thought if I kissed you he would leave you alone,” his word vomit was in full force, letting everything out in one breath. “I think it worked though.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you, I guess,” you laughed. 

And just like that, Matthew was back to his usual self. 

“Trust me, no problem,” he winked with his classic smirk on, grabbing your arm to guide you back to the booth. 

You rolled your eyes at him, grateful that he couldn’t see your blush. Now you were just hoping that no one saw. The last thing you wanted to do was have to explain that to anyone.  

Nearly an hour later you were standing outside the bathroom waiting for Emma to come out. As much as you tried to act normal with Matthew, you were struggling to say the least. Any feelings you previously had were now infinitely amplified and it made him leaving again that much harder, not that anything would happen if he wasn’t leaving. 

You were scrolling through Instagram as you waited when you saw the silhouette of a big body heading towards you. You assumed it was Matthew, but you were horribly wrong, looking up to lock eyes with Logan. 

“Well hello there, Y/N,” he slurred. Of course, he was beyond drunk. 

“Logan, leave me alone. Please,” you pleaded, head glancing at the door wondering what was taking Emma so long. 

“Relax, I just want to catch up a little.”

You didn’t respond, rather you went back on your phone, hoping he would just walk away if you ignored him. 

“So, you’re finally fucking that asshole Tkachuk, huh?”

Your heart sank at his words, but the anger quickly followed. 

“Excuse me?” you were genuinely stunned at how bold he was being. “Who I’m fucking is absolutely none of your business,” you hissed. 

Just as you went to enter the bathroom in search of refuge from his harassment, another body joined you, but this time it was one you welcomed. 

Brady headed towards you the second he caught eye of the situation, making it just in time to hear Logan’s words. 

“Everything okay over here?” He challenged Logan. He pulled you into his side, his arm snaking around your shoulders. He might have been younger, but he towered over both of you. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Logan asked, puffing his chest out. You rolled your eyes at his actions, not understanding how someone could be so dumb to mess with these two. 

“I’m the asshole’s brother,” he calmly responded. 

You had to stifle your laughter at his comment, turning to hide your face in the crook of his arm. 

At that Logan gave up, storming off back into the crowd. 

“Thanks, Brades,” you smiled up at him, giving his torso a squeeze before letting go and leaning against the wall. 

“Of course. But I have to ask, are you fucking the asshole?” He raised his brows at you, a silent way of saying ‘don’t lie to me.’

“What? Are you crazy?” You exclaimed, trying to deflect as quickly as possible. 

“Y/N,” he warned. 

“No. We are not fucking. Jesus, Brady.” 

“Alright, but you two need to figure your shit out,” he murmured. 

Before you could give him your rebuttal the door swung open and Emma emerged. 

“Hey!” You yelled, grateful for the distraction. 

You grabbed her hand, walking side by side towards the door to head home. Brady trailed behind you and you knew you needed to say something to him before you were back with the group. 

You turned your head back to face him, “There is no shit to figure out. Drop it,” you snapped. 

He threw his hands up, acting like he was totally innocent. But even though you and Matthew were clueless, Brady knew it was only a matter of time before you two came to your senses. 

-----

The next day was spent on the boat with the music blasting and the alcohol flowing. Despite everything within him telling him to stop, Matthew couldn’t help but stare at you in that bikini. He prayed that his sunglasses hid the way his eyes dragged over your frame every chance he got. It felt dirty to look at you like that, but last night was like a slap in the face, awakening him to how far gone he truly was for you. 

The day ended with a bonfire back at the house, everyone cozying up around the pit reminiscing on another summer together. You were laughing at someone's story and once again, Matthew’s eyes betrayed him. He was in the chair next to yours, so enthralled in watching you so happy. You had been so stressed out about graduation and finding a job that you deserved a weekend of freedom.  

He couldn’t help but notice how you started to shiver as the sun went down, only wearing your still-damp bikini and a pair of shorts. He moved to get up to grab you something, but you stopped him. 

“Matty? Where are you going?” 

His knees almost gave out at the nickname. You had called him that ever since you were kids, but everything had a new meaning now that his feelings were all he could think of. 

“I’ll be right back,” he assured. 

You nodded, joining back into the conversation. It was dumb, but you already missed having him there. 

He was back within minutes, handing you one of his sweatshirts. You thanked him, pulling the soft material over your head, taking your time so you could hide the blush that you knew covered your cheeks. It smelled just like him, and you had a feeling that he wasn’t going to be getting it back anytime soon. His gaze lingered over his name and number on your shoulder, noting how good they looked on you. 

As it got later and later, people started going up to their rooms, eventually leaving just you and Matthew alone. 

“Come here,” he quietly gestured towards himself. 

“I’m right here,” you laughed. 

“And you’re also freezing. So come here,” he repeated. 

You couldn’t deny that you were still cold, your bare legs not helping much. You slowly stood up, walking to his chair. He moved his arms from his lap so you could sit down, your body resting across his thighs. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him, and you already felt yourself warm up from the heat he was radiating. 

You sat in a comfortable silence for a while, your head lying on his shoulder as you both watched the fire die out. 

“You’re gonna think I’m crazy, but hear me out,” he mumbled, finally breaking the silence. 

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, “What are you up to now?”

“Come to Calgary with me.”

part two here