#i cant help but still see this as bittersweet with the whole song and all but help theres nothing more romantic than dying with your friend | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

underthestarlitsky · 2 years

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look away please im having a meltdown about everybody wants to rule the world by tears for fears

imagine a purple sky and shooting stars visible from your car windshield as you drive along a winding coastal road. imagine watching the first drops of rain fall in the middle of the night as a thunderstorm begins and gives way to a raging downpour. imagine the last time you see your best friend in the summer, and you're pulling away from her house gate while the pressure behind your eyes builds and builds and builds and it feels like a physical part of you was left behind in the last hug you shared with her, parts of your soul stuck to her clothes. the sky behind the airport has a touch of green to it, like 2 am in the summertime when you’re a child, and instinctively you know that it is time to grow up. there is no going back, there is no way to change the past. you can only move forward.

you drove away from the coffee shop with your best friend in the passenger seat, you felt the car engine under your hands thrum to the beat, and when you turn onto her street you can see the skyline of downtown in the distance. you’ve been telling yourself that you’re fine, you’re fine. this isn’t the end, you’ll see her and your school friends and your cat in four months, youre not stressed and youre not upset about leaving because you chose to leave - you’re excited! but then you hear him sing all for freedom and more pleasure, nothing ever lasts for ever, and you know that it’s true, that the summer you waited so long for (fourteen years!) is gone in a flash. you waited and waited and now it’s gone. prom night and graduation and birthdays and movies and dinners and lunches and bowling and driving trips and beach picnics and roadtrip-staycations and all of it happened and all of it is gone and you are never ever getting it back. welcome to your life, here's no turning back. and you don’t want to redo it! it happened in the best way possible. you dont want to change it, you just want to live in it forever. it is easier to have the promise of something better while staying in something good than it is to leave behind what is already perfect for something that might fall through.

the music of this song, the backing track and beat and the synth, it all sounds like a steady bittersweet march into the future. you keep walking, but you cant help but reach out to the things you leave behind as they slip further and further out of your grasp. it also sounds like driving down city roads with minimal street lighting. i can’t stand this indecision, married with a lack of vision, and his syllables are loud and clear and you KNOW that everybody wants to rule the world. you don’t. all you want is this moment in time — this summer — to last forever, to go on and on and on. no one has leave and no one has to say goodbye, and you can keep having your 10-way video calls and your traveling-train-parties and spontaneous shopping trips. you just want the posters to stay up in your room and your fairy lights to keep twinkling and his voice runs ragged at the end — say that you’ll never never never never need it, one headline why believe it — and you can hear him pleading, say that you’ll never leave that things will stay the same, a promise unfulfilled. your hands are fists as you throw your whole heart body and soul into singing that song, and you almost miss the turn to go home, and the fairy lights and you are the only things still awake before it’s time to go.

inexplicably, you also think of stranger things’ steve harrington. you aren’t sure why he’s mixed up in all of this. but in your panic to make things stay the same you rewatched stranger things and you guess you think of him when you think of this song because he tried so hard to keep things the same too. you think that he would understand the fear of change that you are trying to hold in your screams about.

you’re stuck, you’re frozen in motion as you roll off your bed in the afternoon a week before you have to leave, stuck standing between your half-filled suitcase and your messy bed, and you’re frozen because he sang, again, nothing ever lasts forever, and you are going to be sick. and it’s true but you really thought it would last forever. the highschool that you ended up graduating from was like a second home to you even if you hated parts of it because what is a home if not a place you hate but keep coming back to anyway. you’re thinking about how you and your friends were seniors, at the top of the world, truly ruling your little world and all you did was laugh hysterically in the hallways and play catch when you weren’t supposed to and dress up too much on free dress days and turn what would’ve been your prison into the place with all your best memories, and he sings there's a room where the light won't find you, holding hands while the walls come tumbling down, when they do I'll be right behind you. nothing ever lasts forever, and you knew that, you did, but you really thought that this summer would’ve had the same ease as last year, that the fear of leaving, and changing and growing up wouldn’t paralyze you like it always has, like this summer wouldnt be tinged with melancholy from the get-go, like it wasn’t a ticking clock, a countdown to changing everything you knew that made your life seem like a happily ever after. he sings, it’s my own design, it’s my own remorse, you made that choice, because things couldn’t ever stay the same, so it was either make that choice or get left behind with a twisted version of everything you love, so you took control and you made that choice. and it still hurt to make it anyway.

you actually haven’t listened to this song in forever. the last time you did, there was a thunderstorm, and listening to this song while watching the rain fall made you feel at peace — you could your life growing and spreading around you, a kind of bittersweet you had yet to taste because you hadn’t reached a spot where the remorse from your own designs was actually there. but then life got good, it got so good that making a choice to let it go for something inevitable hurt something fierce. and you say choice, but you just mean you held the reins and tilted the perpetually-forward-moving horse that is life onto a path that would be the best for you because you had no other choice. when you listened to that song long ago, you were okay with your life not being in your control because you just wanted to give up control and see where it went but now…now you know what you want, and the fear of not having it exceeds anything else you’ve ever felt in a long time.

the 80s synth pop is comforting, though. all that 80s shit is. you’re not sure if it’s because the set design of stranger things resembles the really durable furniture that your grandmother bought in the 70s and never really changed and that was the backdrop for your entire childhood, or because the coloring is just warm and comfortable to look at, or because the flickering of the title theme makes you think of your hometown from when you were very small. the song, too. the synth bit at the end, and the beat, it makes you think of a smile, and a hand held out, and stars twinkling in green sky.

you don’t want to lose any of this so you write all of it down. you take a picture of the skyline as you zip down the highway to the airport, attach a song sticker to it on instagram when you post it to your story, so you don’t ever forget what you felt. the panic and the rush and sheer exhilaration of it all. and then you don’t ever listen to the song again, because you cannot unlock that memory box lest it changes. (what ive written from here is the factual recount of my last two days at home, not the vibes recount because i’m terrified of losing those feelings forever.) you need to remember this, because you will never do this — leave for college — again. (and hopefully writing this out hasn’t destroyed/replaced/rewritten the memory. praying)

Welcome to your life There's no turning back Even while we sleep We will find you Acting on your best behaviour Turn your back on mother nature Everybody wants to rule the world It's my own design It's my own remorse Help me to decide Help me make the most Of freedom and of pleasure Nothing ever lasts forever Everybody wants to rule the world There's a room where the light won't find you Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down When they do I'll be right behind you So glad we've almost made it So sad they had to fade it Everybody wants to rule the world I can't stand this indecision Married with a lack of vision Everybody wants to rule the world Say that you'll never never never never need it One headline why believe it? Everybody wants to rule the world All for freedom and for pleasure Nothing ever lasts forever Everybody wants to rule the world

it’s the end of an era. you think that you almost reached something beautiful —that’s actually a lie, it only feels like not enough. in reality you did everything you could to make this the summer to end all summers, the senior year to end all senior years — so glad we've almost made it, so sad they had to fade it, — but no one faded it. we did make it. we all did. no one faded it, we’re still here and we’re still going strong, but it’s just never enough. you just have to accept that it was enough. earthly time and space constraints made it so that whatever you had, and you had a lot, were enough. you just wish you had more time to make more of the same memories, so you could make sure that in your head you’re living here forever. but . Nothing ever lasts forever. it’s not a sad song, but it’s not entirely happy either. it’s asking questions, like why can’t you stay, why can’t this stay, and it’s resigned. resigned to keep going, so the after the dip in desperation, his voice goes back to normal.

you’re writing this as you sit in the waiting room for your new life to begin. in the inbetween. the life that you chose, It's my own design, it's my own remorse, help me to decide, help me make the most of freedom and of pleasure, nothing ever lasts forever, and for the freedom and for the pleasure you choose to go on. what else can you do? but you hold all of this close to you. you don’t know what would happen if you let it go. the fairy lights are still up in your room. you’ll see your friends again. the skyline and the coffee shop and the car — they’ll all be there. never again in the same context, and that’s what you’re scared of; but the more things change, the more they stay the same. the song fades out, the last synth bars of it disappearing into distant cityscape, and you watch yourself walk into the unknown, into the starry purple dusk, your own figure disappearing into the future.

All for freedom and for pleasure Nothing ever lasts forever Everybody wants to rule the world

Everybody wants to rule the world.

#i feel a little less like throwing up now #but i still have more to say #just don’t know how to put it into words without destroying what’s in my head #and that’s precious so i cant risk it #this isn’t perfect not even close its just word vomit #but i had to do SOMETHING #and the memories in my head are clearer for it #personal #dawn rants

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onyxoverride · 3 years

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“Also??? I am ridiculous. You didn’t had the time to answer my other ramblings about him I AM SO FUCKING SORRY HAHAHAH I just don’t know nowhere else where to go with this shit. So I am just dropping this by you, bc I know your are going to make the most of it and you don’t mind ( or at least I hope so???) Anyways please never feel forced or pressured to answer these because they are just brainrot.

So guys like Twitch Streamer!Zeke huh??? I didn’t plan on add something but some of the other ideas really inspired me so I will extend my thoughts a little lol.

Okay so just imagine, after a few months of playing and streaming with Zeke everyday, he starts to think (he doesn’t do that all the time no no). There are some other Steamers out there who he often plays with and who you Are often playing with. So he starts building a group, you helping him adding members to them. And then you make a twitch streamer house. You all pay a part of it and gather all your Gaming stuff there. Switches, Playstations, computers, everything all over the place. Some even start vlogging and blogging, filming videos to upload them on YouTube. Going out together and eating some from the chat recommended restaurants is now on video too. It blows up like crazy. Zeke didn‘t plan on this to happen, the be honest, he just wanted a reason to move in with you and get to know you in real life, not only through video games and chatting. Of course he likes the other members too but he is found in your room, playing games together and even making music. Because he likes to mess around on the keyboard and with drums and beats a bit. Creates a lofi song from Time to time.

He starts to get cautious and anxious about his feelings because?? What if you liked him better over VR? What if he is not your type? But all of this is blown away as you end the stream one evening a little earlier than he had thought and started to kiss him, finally making a move. And boy is he happy. Immediately takes a little break from the twitch house to get some personal space with you in his or your apartment. While you guys are gone the house starts to get down into real trouble, members are leaving and new members are added without your or Zeke‘s agreement. As soon as you both find this out you leave it be, moving out and moving together.

And the people are lien O.o? Homies dipped for a few days and now are moved together out of the house?? aRE yA TogEThEr? Zeke and you keep it a secret as long as you want it, he doesn’t mind showing everybody that you are his. And deep down Zeke is very happy because...

Well you can’t suck him off under the desk when he is streaming and playing a game when there are other streamers in the same house right? You can‘t keep his cock nice and warm in your cunt when he making another LoFi song, when you are at the streamer house.

Also i want to add another game Zeke is absolutely bawling about: Fall guys. It’s a hate-love relationship between him and this game. He likes the challenge that comes within it but BOY. The other players. PEOPLE STANDING RIGHT INFRONT OF THE GOAL AND NOT LETTING HIM PASS??? Rage quit. Sometimes he will end the stream then and there when he looses and fuck the shit out of you, taking out his frustrations. But as hard as he is pounding you, he is still sweet. He wants you to call him the best one out there, the only gamer who is as good at beating games as filling up this tight pussy.

If anybody is interested yes this idea is a little inspired by the Twitch Streamer House Offline TV I believe? Some names you may know are Fat, Lily Pichu or Pokemane. They are genuinely funny and if you enjoy video games and some good Humor you should check them out (if you got free time lol). Man. I just noticed that my stories this evening are a little bit more soft & shit?? How did that happen? We need to get back to dirty nasty shit. Gimme a few hours and my brain will combine the nasty and filthy shit for y‘all

Also i would like to know if anybody likes Splatoon 2 as much as I do because I have been loosing my shit & time at this game and I low-key think Zeke would play it too but not for too long but is anybody in the same boat as me? Asking for a friend (no for real anybody know Splatoon 2??????) -🍆”

Alright sorry again for taking so long to answer, turns out I can't FUCKING READ IF I DONT TAKE MY MEDS beat me up pls

I do not know Splatoon at all 😭 I am sorry but I may check out that YouTube stuff to think about Streamer Zeke some more... hehe

Streamer Zeke who falls head over heels for you. It's absolutely ridiculous. He's suave enough to become your friend, close enough to start this little house of yours with his other friends like Streamer Porco and Streamer Pieck as well as vlogger Reiner and his little brother who plays games but also films skating video.

You work with him to gather this house together, organizing everything (you requested bean bags and Zeke delivered 10x with giant comfortable bean bags.) Eventually you end up catching on to his feelings for you. No, he never really came onto you. Super respectful of you and your space but he does want to be with you a lot, it's how he shows his love -- with buying you things and quality time. Plus, the blush across his face whenever you playfully flirt with him is priceless. And whenever you dress up nice? He can barely be near you. You look so good he cant help it. Even when you wear sweatpants and pajamas he's simping hard. Hearts in his eyes 24/7. He keeps it on the downlow but sometimes it's so obvious especially when you two stream together he acts different. Biting his lips red and raw and a small strawberry blush settled on his cheeks that only few notice.

Then dual streaming together, (are you streaming in the same room? Is that how it works? Probably not but let's just say it us for now,) he's nervous. He can hide it mostly but then when you two finally fall into a softer more viable atmosphere he can finally breathe and be comfortable with you while streaming. Eventually you're cueing off way earlier than he thought but he goes with it smoothly, turning to ask you what's up before you pull him into a kiss.

He's red. Stuttering out "oh-okay" before you pull him into another long winded kiss, leaning over the arm of his chair to kiss him while he's trying to maneuver his chair to face you and trying to keep his lips on yours. He's pined too long to not have his lips on yours in this very moment. Pulling you to stand between his legs and into one of the most heated and loving make-out sessions. Zeke feels like he's a teen again with you twirling the hair at the back of his neck and him playing with the edge of your shirt nervously.

When you pull away, he pouts. Full lipped pout with a whine sticking in his throat, trying to pull you back to him, and who are you to deny him?

He does sneak into your room to mess with you, even during streams to mess with the little sound board, making stupid little songs while you play. It's cute in a an annoying way, shooing him away with a little fly swatter while he giggles, running out the room.

Eventually, Eren is inviting too many people over, inviting others to join the house without Zekes agreement and as much as he tries to talk sense into him, it's no use. So with this secret relationship of yours, cuddling in your room he asks if you two should move out. He's the eldest so it'd make sense even if the house becomes chaos without him and you don't deserve to he left behind. He knows you find his little brother annoying without even saying anything for his sake. You're getting tired of Armin too, to be honest. Mikasa is nice but paired along with the other two it's impossible to get a good conversation with her.

They aren't even aware of you two moving out before the day comes. All the furniture, gaming consoles, electric piano he likes to play, and more. Including two bean bags that weren't ruined.

I can't get this scenario out of my head but imagine him peeking into your separate gaming room at the new apartment, shirtless and in sweats, strategically staying out of the way of the camera and when you glance at him he's smirking. He's tempting you to end stream and pay attention to him now.

And fuck does it work. Trying to end stream with a little smile on your face while Zeke lean against the doorframe. Thing is you don't exactly hit the right button as you get up, leaving the stream playing while you pull him into the room and stumbling onto him whole he leans back onto the couch. Pulling him into a heated kiss with a hand on his throat, dominating him much more than anybody would ever expect.

It's not like you two ever went explicitly public ever. So the stream is blowing up, skyrocking it to numbers you've never seen before Zeke is patting your back to get your attention. You can barely say anything as you go to really turn of the stream. Muttering a sorry with disheveled hair and clothes and swollen lips to match the actions everyone just caught, both you and Zekes phones blowing up with calls and texts from friends.

"Well..." Zeke sighs and leans back with a bittersweet smile, "now everybody knows..."

You sigh with your smacking against his chest, "I'm sorry, I didn't- that was stupid of me."

He just rubs your back and laughs, "well, that may have worked in our favor. Now we don't have to announce it formally, just respond to the reaction of everybody. Though, they got to see me shirtless and you be all sexy on top of me. I don't appreciate that much..."

Because that's only for his eyes to see, and yours as well. Plus, this will get other streamers to stop flirting with you, so that's an advantage in his eyes. Now you can stream as a couple too if you two wanted. But he does like the keep couple things between just the two of you, a clear divide between his romantic life and his streaming and work life which the both of you two appreciate endlessly. Though... the times when those two mix are fun to say the least.

Sitting underneath his desk while he streams is risky but it has his blood pumping so fucking quick. Cock in your mouth, hallowing your cheeks which makes him want to roll his hips but he has to resist. The blush on his face is already suspicious and the moments he pauses or groans only can happen so often before people make jokes about someone being under the desk. But both of you manage, him cumming as quietly as he can into your mouth with the volume of the game turned high. You keep suckling a bit until he's nudging you off his cock while his works his spit covers cock back into his pants, continuing stream for another hour before ending and letting you finally get out from under the desk.

He'll support you from under the desk too but you're much better at keeping your composure for some reason and it pisses him off. Tongue lapping messily at your folds while your thighs are thrown over his shoulders as you stream. After it ends without you orgasming he goes ham. Trapping you in the chair and fingering you with vigor until you're orgasming at least twice. He wants you shaking so he will have it. He wants you babbling and your cum all over his face and won't stop, moaning when you pull his hair and wetting the towel you set down on the chair before anything was started.

He does make lo-fi music. Loves making songs like that and ends up playing them while you two cuddle and during sweet love making sessions. Sometimes really casual, loving sex where it's missionary -- rolling into each other while his beard scratching at your neck and chest, kissing at every part he can reach. Nails scratching at his back and one caressing his hair away from his forehead, just pure loving sex that leaves you both completely satisfied.

No one can have this but each other, completely separated from both of your everyday lives and people you know. Fingers digging into the flesh of your hips until both of you are cumming, teeth nibbling on your lips as you moan. He turns your face to his before swallowing your moans in a kiss, only pulling back to see your blissed out face.

Yeah, he wouldn't trade this for the world.

#18+ i block blogs with no age indication #◆.aot #❖.zeke jaeger #♥️.🍆anon #aot smut #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke jaeger smut #⚫.answered #⚫.drabbles #zeke smut #zeke yeager x reader #zeke yaeger x reader smut #zeke yeager smut

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funsizearsonist · 3 years

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Headcanon 1/?

hey!! I know it’s a lil late in the day for this (as in: it’s past 12 so this was supposed to be up yesterday) but here you guys go! I figured I’d kick off this whole headcanon shabang with some good old-fashioned willie angst!

TW for talk of losing a soul?

What if losing your soul hurts more than the jolts?

I mean it makes sense right? With jolts it was just Caleb getting their souls, not destroying them

So it probably takes time for him to destroy a soul, because he's powerful but only so much

And completely destroying a soul has gotta take a lot of power, more than stealing one, so it would take more time

so what if the s2 deal is:

Caleb realizes what happened. He's lost Willie, because Willie has found someone else and become disillusioned with the hgc and everything he does. So it's time for Willie to Go

He tries not to tip willie off because he doesn’t want them to realize what's happening any sooner than he has to, because no one should be able to counteract him but they weren’t supposed to be able to get rid of the stamp either

But willie knows that something’s up because Caleb has to know. He has to know that he helped them cross over, has to know him being gone that day had something to do with the big show at the Orpheum. He should be mad? But he hasn’t even said a word, and willie is on their toes

Then he overhears Caleb discussing with his right hand man. Filling a position, a traitor, must be disposed of, something along those lines. And there’s really no question what that’s about.

So maybe he's panicking. So what? What could they be expected to do? He just sort of runs, then skates, away. There's nothing left for him at the club, they cant stay when Caleb is there and Caleb is killing them, in a way

So he hops on his skateboard and goes as fast as they can and when the streets get too busy and they’re not in the mood to pass through anything he picks up his skateboard and runs and when he's fully out of breath even though he's a ghost and all the fight drains out of him

He sort of just drops down to the ground, maybe on the beach

And figures if they’re gonna spend their last days anywhere, it might as well be here

And he knows he has a good few painful last days ahead of him because destroying a soul isn’t easy work

So he holds his skateboard and watches the sunset and cries

Because of the band that's gone now because of them

Because of Alex, who was so amazing and is now so painfully not there

And he lays down and gets hit by a jolt? of sorts? that feels like getting kicked in the chest and landing on your back at the same time

And it knocks all the air out of him, so he just stays there, staring at the sky. It’s not like they had anywhere to go anyway

And they just stay there, on their back, running his hand over one of his skateboard wheels, as the sky gets darker and darker and fills with stars, and then lighter again

Maybe humming Finally Free or something quietly to themself

Then the next morning, the boys take a walk on the beach

Or maybe just Alex

And they find willie there, crying

When he gets hit with another jolt thing that leaves him gasping for breath, doubled over in pain

So reunion!! The boys didn’t have to cross over and leave julie behind after all! They get to see Alex's face again, and they’re really happy for the boys, being free

But it's almost worse because now they’re leaving Alex again

And then he'll be just completely Gone and there's no coming back from that

So he tries to push Alex away, after all they only brought trouble and he doesn't want Alex getting too attached before he's gone

But Alex isn’t having it so he takes willie back to the Molinas’

And just showers them in love

And they don’t go on dates, really, but they decide to do a lot of the things they never got to do together

Most things they do as a family (willie, alex, reggie, luke, and probably also julie+co sometimes) The only true family willie's ever had

So willie's having a great time, when he's not being knocked on his ass by jolts

Willie decides to go on a date of sorts with Alex, close ish to his end

Because as the jolts get worse he doesn’t want that to be all they're thinking about

And he doesn’t want it to be Alex who's there/the only one there when they finally disappear

So the date is adorable and bittersweet

Maybe they go skateboarding, and they try to teach Alex a few things

And then Alex tries to teach him a few things on drums, because they both want to learn about the thing the other loves

But for the main part of the date

They just wander

Hold hands in public, which Alex isn’t quite used to but he loves

And just go where their hearts take them, with no concerns about time or caleb or anything, which willie certainly isn’t used to but its great

They end up at a park, and there's some music playing, and they dance, which they both love

The first song is fast and fun and just the way they're both used to dancing already

But the next one is slow and sweet and they just hold each other tightly and one or both of them ends up crying softly (i want it to be alex)

And willie feels a little bit lighter, but he brushes it off as the time spent with Alex, as getting things in order, feeling better about not missing all his chances to just be softly in love

They go home together, still holding hands

Because willie has a home now

He spends time with his family, and he has a moment like that with each of them (julie, luke, reggie)

Their moments probably come before his date with Alex bc Alex is most important but whatever

With reggie he gets to be himself and he doesn’t have to pretend to be happy all the time. (even though he could be himself with any of them it just feels right with reggie because reggie knows too) They talk about things that happened to them, reggie about his parents and willie about his foster home and caleb. And neither of them feels the need to joke, to paste on a smile, to cover it up. But it isn’t sad, it’s cathartic, they bond and connect. And their moment is when reggie gives them his leather jacket

With Luke, he gets to be reckless

They "break in" to places, play pranks (adhd impulsive boys anyone)

And their moment is when they're out somewhere and catch sight of something and all they need is a shared glance to run over and cause Ghost Antics, just like brothers

With Julie, they get to be goofy

They make jokes, use gen z humor, she brings in flynn and they do a fashion show sorta thing, and they end up baking cookies together with a movie in the background

Neither of them really know how to make cookies, and they turn out terrible, but in the process of making them they get into a food fight (although it doesn’t do much to willie) and julie accidentally spills that she used to bake with her mother but no one would do it with her ever since Rose died, but now that she has willie in her family too she has someone to bake with again

And each of these moments lifts some weight off of his shoulders, but he doesn’t quite realize it

Then he has his date with Alex

And the next day, as the jolts get worse, they spend the whole day as a family

Including Ray and Carlos who have been informed of the ghost situation

They watch movies, build a blanket fort, test his Ghost Powers for Carlos, eat dinner together

All the while, the jolts get less and less

Without realizing it, because willie is too caught up having fun with everyone

After dinner, they bring everyone out to the garage, and perform a song they wrote for willie

As a goodbye and a thank you and everything else they thought they'd never get time to say

Everyone gets an individual verse that they wrote themselves to say something to willie, including Ray and Carlos

Then they all sing the last verse together, and they’re free

He found a family despite Caleb's best efforts

They broke free from the brainwashing and misery and false front he had to put up at the hgc

He loved and was loved, unconditionally

And (not to get sappy) but that's what breaks through everything

Not just Caleb's efforts to destroy their soul, but caleb's ownership on it too

Especially when they've got julie molina on their side

(just to clarify, in this idea the assumption is that Julie can see willie but no other lifers can, either because She Can Just Do That or because of some bs that ill make up later)

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp headcanon #jatp hc #julie and the phantoms headcanon #julie and the phantoms hc #willie jatp #willie julie and the phantoms #willie jatp hc #willie jatp headcanon #willie julie and the phantoms headcanon #funarson jatp hc

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hopeandharmonizing · 3 years

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Day - Valentine’s, Night - Off

Briar + Qrow Branwen ( @dustyqrowofmisfortune )

❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦

Briar squints confused golden eyes, leaning in and staring up, hands on her hips, “Qrow, I KNOW you are not trying to confess something serious to me in the middle of the street in the middle of the afternoon on Valentine's Day.”

He leans back for a moment when she gets in his space, then puts his hands in his pockets and recoils a bit, “Fine, you're right. It's fucking dumb anyway.”

❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦

“It's a day for spreading L O V E! I don't care what kind! Where is everyone?” Time to get this city in the mood. Briar kicks open Harmonzier and sets up right in the street.

❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦

Qrow takes up a seat on a wall nearby. “You're having way too much fun with this Big Bad,” he laughs.

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“If I want other people to have fun, I have to be twice the example!”

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“Does it always have to be overboard or nothing with you?”

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“What other way is there to live, baby?”

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He hops down off the wall and strides over to her, “You're gonna burn out if you're not careful...” was that genuine concern in his voice?

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“Awww, Qrow, you care? I'm touched. Don't worry,” she boops his nose. “I hit the beat hard but I know it means nothing without rest notes. All in good time, hmm?”

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“So what if I do?” He shrugs and wiggles his nose from the boop.

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“So what? Mmm... nope! Not my job to do that soul searching for you. Figure it out, then let me know.”

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A frustration fueled sigh... since he was actually trying to tell her he did, “Jeez Briar... I'm trying to tell ya I do...”

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She cants her head, “I know. I just sai... ohhhhh you want me to say I care in return, huh? Has that not been clear?” Her tail droops.

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He shakes his head, “No, I know... that wasn't what I was getting at.” A hand runs through his hair.

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She squints confused golden eyes, leaning in and staring up, hands on her hips, “Qrow, I KNOW you are not trying to confess something more serious to me in the middle of the street in the middle of the afternoon on Valentine's Day.”

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He leans back for a moment when she gets in his space, then puts his hands in his pockets and recoils a bit, “Fine, you're right. It's fucking dumb anyway.”

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Her eyes open, then even wider, not put off at all by his dourness, only taking it as confirmation, “Oh my gods you are, aren't you?”

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“Look, I'm no good at this shit okay? But why do you think I let ya hang around with my cursed ass all this time? Damn it Briar...” he sighs.

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She takes a deep breath and tries to keep her tail from fluffing “No good? Let me? Cursed?? Brothers there is so much to unpack here. Who are you and what have you done with Qrow Branwen, and...”

Her face suddenly changes, lights up, “Are you free tomorrow? You know, when it's not one of my biggest love-spreading, harmony-promoting, money-making days??”

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He reaches for his flask. She's right. This isn't him but... “Forget it... you know where to find me, you always do.”

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And just as quickly the light dies, “No date, then? Not even staying for the show?” her eyes find and linger on the flask, not upset just... sad, “It seems we both have our own priorities, then. Yeah, I'll be around."

Still no closer than the periphery, apparently.

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And yet again his self depreciating personality makes a shit show of things. Seeing the look though, he puts the flask away "That's not what I meant and you know it. And I didn't say anything about leaving did I?" why did this have to be so damn hard? "Unless ya want me to..."

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“No! No I don't know it! Quit being so obtuse! It doesn't have to be hard!” Briar doesn't know Qrow’s thoughts, but hard is exactly what he's making it.

“Say what you mean and do whatever what you want. I've told you before I don't deal in half-hearted. Overboard or nothing, you said it yourself!”

Why does he always make her so angry when all she wants to do is care?

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Anger rises in red eyes, not at her, but because she's right. She passes him off just as much as he does her... she pushes him.

"I can't be anything but me Briar," a huff, fists clench, "I'm not being half-hearted, I just don't know how to deal with this shit... with people being close to me. You say do what I want... fine."

Fists unfold and he grabs her and just kisses her... messy but real

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She should have known, should have smelled the shift, but didn't over the sense of her beating heart. Now here she is, Briar Rieka - superficially tangled all the way around the city with no one but herself at her center, yet being kissed by a world renowned huntsman in the middle of the street in the middle of the afternoon on Valentine's day.

The day when she's supposed to spread love to the masses and go home alone, just like always, and so when she said overboard or nothing she expected nothing, and so squeaks and whimpers since Qrow left no more room for words.

Her tail shoots straight, and her eyes shoot open, until he keeps going, sloppily satisfying, and she relaxes, then throws herself into it - helplessly, recklessly, wholly; the bitter indulgence of whiskey and honesty on lips finer than any artificial sweetness from chocolate covered strawberries.

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Expectations... people should know better than to have them around him, especially her. For a moment he had toyed with the nothing option but he couldn't, no wouldn't, walk away again.

Qrow Branwen, Mr. Drunk Loser Hall of Fame inductee, Mr. Always Works Alone... didn't want that anymore. She GOT him, didn't give an inch but still gave him space. She could withstand his shitstorms... both inside and out.

He could feel her surprise... feel her melt into it. In the middle of the afternoon, on some random street, on this dopes holiday... it was exactly the right time for this. It was HIM time to do this.

Freaked as he was, he could taste her sweet, wild freedom and it was infectious... and also breathtaking. So much so, when he finally comes out of that blissful fog, his breathing quick, face bright red as his eyes as they focus on her... "Briar... I..."

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He grows, and she can feel it.

Feel it in the way he kisses her like she's never been kissed before. Rough lips with gentle affection, deeper and yet softer than those who would slam her against a nightclub wall or dive into any old warm body in lust and desperation. It is expression, feeling, he is finally allowing himself to feel, enough to flush his face with heat that spills over for hers to match, and it is delicious to her whole body.

He has done it - managed to leave the speeding, howling she-wolf stalled out and speechless, nothing but the perpetual song in her heart to sound out as a hazy hum while she leans into his shoulder and gazes up with starry eyes, waiting to find out if there is more to that thought, "Hmmm?"

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Qrow feels like he's back at Beacon with the stupid school boy crush, but that's how he knows... knows this is persistent, real. He holds her there in the middle of the street not caring that the location sucks.

It's so them.

"That..." it's rare but the huntsman is oddly speechless. He thinks he should apologize for being a dick all this time but now doesn't feel right... He decides to just hold her tight. "So... still interested in that date?"

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Briar has done far worse in public, and if V-day isn't a time for PDA then when is?

She nuzzles in so deep she almost forgets about Harmonizer, and certainly forgets about everything that never needed an apology. Qrow can only be himself, as he said, and she has never held that against him, only held her own against anything that pushed too hard on her own standards.

Besides, it's not like she isn't, well, literally a bitch to deal with too. He wraps his arms fearlessly around her thorns, somehow ensnaring her instead. Well, if he can put the flask away then she can let a little go too...

"Yeah." she says dreamily, "Suddenly I feel too old to be working every holiday. ...Think I'll take that rest beat and save going hard for something else~"

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He can't help the smirk and light snicker that goes with her words. If she expected that little allusion to go unnoticed she was sorely mistaken. Not that the thought didn't have his face warming just a bit though. It's actually a little odd seeing her this way... dreamy and soft maybe? It makes him uncomfortable but in the best way. It was only because he was more used to her more no bullshit, tough love-esque typical demeanor.

That's all it was... yeah.

"Shut it Big Bad, you're not old, but yeah... take the night off. Just... just you and and me, you pick where. And..." breaking away for a moment, reaching into his shirt, he pulls the flask out and hands it to her, "You keep track of this so I'm not tempted to make an ass of myself when I inevitable manage to fuck something up tonight."

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Both, always both. Qrow, willing enough to concede some sticking points of Briar's briars may see the sweeping sweetness of the softest tail in Remnant.

...But even a kiss like that still isn't enough to make him drop the nickname. (...Is he still afraid?) Her eyes drop to the ground as she processes and ponders, and thinks about her answer, but they pull back up to the movement and sloshing sound of the flask.

She takes it in nimble fingers, turns it over and recognizes once more his very emblem, very self, on the object. Her first thought is to pour the whole thing out. Dramatic, showy. Wouldn't even be a waste of the good stuff - it's not.

But no, she glances up at him, with bittersweet understanding. This is not a spilling dry and starting over kind of statement. It's taking the night off, and it is trust. It is not Briar forcing her hand or will over Qrow's vices, but temptation remaining present so she might stand between Qrow and it, become a part of his own decision.

"Alright." she says quietly, tucking it deep into a leather jacket pocket; then, with more verve and a raised brow "But I wouldn't expect much else from you anyway. But hey... fucking it up is also a term used for having fun you know!"

She-wolf nuzzles into Qrow's neck, still soaking up the closeness, still sharing her warmth, "I go out with so many people... always a crowd. Always worried about thinning out my semblance... If I can pick where..." her hands curl into his shirt, less flirtatious, more desperate, starved, "can't we just stay in somewhere? I would pick..." gold gaze stays trained on him, pleading.

"I want to be alone with you, Qrow"

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That was the thing, nicknames, persisting ones, were for people close to him, people he gave a shit about. The one given her was likely never something he'd give up, not unless she explicitly told him to. It was a term of endearment really. Given names were formalities and formalities were the last thing he wanted, especially with her.

As for the flask, she wasn't wrong. He wasn't ready to give it up entirely, not yet. Someday maybe... but he trusted her to keep the demons at bay, at least for the night. This was about them at last being honest with each other, him being honest with her more so than anything, or maybe himself. He sees where she puts his crutch though, knows where it is. Close but not readily at his command. He's relinquished control and that itself speaks volumes and by the way she's responding, it feels like there's a measure of that going on between them both.

Things could get interesting quickly and there's a certain thrill and anxiety that lurks in him for it, "Stay in... alone... just fucking up in each other's company huh?" There's a bit of a laugh as he accepts that desperate feeling cling to his shirt.

"Well, unless you're up for some no name inn or hotel, it would have to be your place. We both know I can't keep a place of my own to save my life."

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Briar's tail flicks and her lip quirks at his quip. There's a sense of satisfaction that settles in her bones along with the weight in her pocket that she's done something right. He accepts so casually smooth with a laugh that's rough, and it balances all the shifts in her moods. So strangely opposite of his usual effect on her.

"You're more than welcome in my home, but does that honestly mean you didn't even have something set up for yourself tonight? My you really are a drifter." And yet he smells so good mixed with the outside air, it makes sense, fits. She almost feels bad about asking to bringing him within four walls. But not bad enough to not still want some privacy.

Her tail twitches again as she revels in the prospect, giving away her continued excited anticipation, “So be it.”

#( life goes on and so can you || dustyqrowofmisfortune )#( all these years go by so fast || thread archive )#this was such a good time #look they kind of stopped being dumb

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vanchlo · 4 years

Text

The Assistant / Chapter Forty-One, “Finally”

*Gifs are not mine*

Clickable Links:

- *NEW* Becky Magazine Cover from an O.C. Tag Challenge c:

- Masterlist feat. all chapters and Character Surveys

- Inspo tag

- Hecky Playlist

- Read on Wattpad

Warnings: None

Word Count: 10.3k words

Song: You’re Still The One by Shania Twain, bc duh Just Like Heaven by The Cure (click to listen)

A/N: I am SO excited for you to read this chapter, you’ll soon find out why ;)

SNEAKYYYYYY PEEEEEK

For the fiftieth time in the last two days, I couldn’t be more grateful for how easy things are coming together. I couldn’t be more thankful to have him by my side. It still feels like a dream getting to live this life now, and getting to work with him on the daily, singing Spice Girls amidst stolen cheek kisses.

One puzzle piece at a time, and there’s only one or two pieces left in this puzzle of ours.

"And then my soul saw you and it kind of went ‘Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you.’"

- Iain Thomas, ‘I Wrote This For You’

There was truly nothing that could rock the waves I was currently riding, and I couldn’t wait a second longer to do the very thing that would make them even bigger. They had only climbed since telling Asher earlier this evening, and the smile that shared on our faces.

Skye was sprawled out on the sofa when I opened the door, finding it impossible to hide the grin on my face as I read a text from Harry that had dinged a moment before.

i havent been this excited for somethin in a long time bug. absolutely cant wait to see u on friday, idk if i can wait that long ;) good luck on ur case with Myles 2moro, you’ll do great Becks xo

“Well, look who has a pep in her step, all of a sudden. I don’t think I’ve seen you smile in days, since Harry’s left. What’s the occasion, Ree?” she teases, surprising me with the simple act of muting an episode of The Great British Bake Off that our nights consist of as of late.

“I may have had a good day,” I suggest with a shrug of my shoulders as I put my coat away in the closet.

“Since bloody when? You were in a shitty mood the last time we spoke, having ‘Harry withdrawals,’ or something. I’d say the only reason you could be happy right now is if you’d seen him, which would be impossible seeing he’s in Glasgow for another few days,” she mutters. I observe the look on her face change and how her eyebrows dance along her forehead after I turn around to face her, letting the smile lose. “Wait, he’s still there, isn’t he?” she questions, reaching a hand out as if looking for an answer with her body, too.

My head shakes from side to side slowly as my lips part to show my teeth, a rarity among my smiles, and the expression dawning on her face tells me she recognizes it too. “He came back today, his case finished early, Skye. And I asked him out on a date!”

“You didn’t?! Ree, you better not be kidding with me, or I’m gonna be really pissed at you!” she chuckles, feigning intimidation in her voice. Hints of the emotions buzzing around inside of me play across her face, meanwhile, my happiness keeps growing notch after notch.

I don’t know if I can wait that long either, Harry, cause I can’t remember the last time I was this excited. Thank you so much xxx

“I’m not kidding, Skye, and he said yes! He didn’t even let me finish asking and he said yes!” I exclaim after sending the text I had been typing, feeling her arms come around me in a shock when I look back up.

“I’m so fucking happy for you, Ree, it’s about bloody time!” she remarks excitedly, almost crushing me in a hug.

“Me too, I can’t remember the last time I was this happy,” I admit softly, relaxing in her arms, even though part of me wishes they were the arms of somebody else. Only an hour later, and I already miss him. Wow, I’ve got this bad.

“Did you kiss him at least?!”

“No, I’m waiting for the date, I guess. I looked like proper crap today, I’ve been up so late the last few nights prepping for the case with Myles,” I laugh, pulling away from her smell of peaches and chocolate when my pocket dings.

“First kisses aren’t something you plan, Ree, they just happen out of nowhere. The sooner, the better.”

“I guess you’re right,” I confess with a smile stuck to my lips. “We’ll just see what happens.”

Happiness and its synonyms still fill me to the brim an hour later, and whilst my thumbs flit across the screen of my phone. Her words stare back at me, and unbeknownst to me how, I wish I could see her again already. My footsteps wander down the main hallway, and before I know what I’m doing, I arrive at her door. Low and behold, it’s closed and my heart sinks into my chest when I find darkness waiting behind it.

miss u already bug xoxo

My words are whisked off to her, and soon my legs are entering the doorway of a certain somebody’s office, although not the one I was hoping for.

“It’s about time you made your rounds and came to say hi to me. Should I feel offended I’m the last one on your list?” Myles teases from behind his desk with a grin lining his lips.

“Oh, shuddup. Did Becks leave already fer tha night?” I question, letting my shoulder fall to the door frame as I watch the small ‘delivered’ appear under my blue text.

“Yeah, I ran into her about twenty minutes ago in the break room when she was clocking out. What, didn’t you already see her?”

“Ya, she was me first visitor. I was jus’ hopin’ t’ see her ‘gain,” I shrug, well aware of the terrible job I’m doing of hiding the one hundred watt smile I’m wearing.

“And does that have anything to do with you blinding me with that smile of yours?” he inquires, raising a sandy blonde eyebrow at me.

“Maybe it has sumthin’ t’ do with me havin’ a date with her on Friday, as of an hour ago,” I reveal casually with a shrug of my shoulders, feeling the smile grow larger somehow.

“Fucking finally,” Myles chimes with happiness spreading across his face, and I nod quickly.

“I know, ‘s all finally comin’ t’getha fer us.”

It would be accurate to say that I was still in utter disbelief after yesterday, and rehashing it all to Skye the second I got home only made it all seem more real, and even better. Then again, that was an understatement, because I had been waiting for this for years. I had been waiting to feel this way for too long, and to be able to say and think that I have a date with Harry tomorrow. An actual, proper date. Several times, I cursed myself for not making the date on Thursday night, tonight, because although I had waited painstakingly for five days, another two felt like twenty years.

It was even bittersweet coming to work the next day and not seeing him there, confusing the habits and expectations I had come to know. I still had to finish up the case with Myles that he would finish arguing, with my help, for the next two days. I tried to think of it that way, that the date would be even better after finishing that case, and in a way, signifying my return to Harry. God, it was all too perfect, but it would be even more so if I didn’t have to wait another bloody day, well actually two, to see him. Yesterday wasn’t long enough, but when I think about it, no length of time ever is with him and that’s how I know I’m in trouble.

Also, that I’m walking right into one of my dreams.

After a morning spent in court starting off the case, I was back at the firm with Myles after lunch to work on it some more. He had given me more time to myself to work on my own than Harry had, but I preferred it that way. Harry was right, Myles was good to me, and I did learn a lot from him, but it wasn’t the same as being with Harry. Nothing has ever and never will be the same as being with him, certainly not. Also, the whole Family and Interpersonal side of court was depressing as fuck, I found out. The topic littered Harry and I’s conversations the last almost week, resulting in me taking after him and deciding to stay far away from it for now.

I’m reminded of him everywhere I go, and it definitely makes trying to get my work done all the more difficult. I see his face in the succulent sat at the corner of my desk, behind my office chair where he would lean over me to help me on my laptop, on my sofa where he opened his birthday presents with explosive happiness, and in the reflection on the tall window where I now stand in the same spot as on his birthday when he hugged me against his front with a kiss to my head. A day later, and it all still feels so surreal to me, and I’m not mad about it. I appreciate its distracting qualities, leaving me to not worry as much about what the hell I’m going to wear tomorrow, and messing things up. Skye’s already picked out five outfits for me by now, I’m sure, but I was at a loss last night when I perused my closet. The pressure to impress somebody I’ve already met a hundred times, feels even greater than my second interview I had at the firm, and I tell myself I don’t know why, even though I do.

I want to wear the right thing, and feel beautiful. More than that, I don’t want to mess things up between us, again, no matter how stupid that sounds. No matter how premature it is to worry about right now.

With the happiest of sighs, I wander over to my bookshelf that now sits a dozen law books, gifts from Harry, Skye, Robbie, my dad, and Asher. Perhaps my favorite, to no surprise, is the Lawyer’s Dictionary that Harry got me. It has a section for all of the law jargon, another on many important laws, and lastly finishes with a guide for working the courtroom. I was just getting on my tippy toes to grab it when I feel a pair of arms surround my chest and pull me against theirs.

“Hiya, brat,” a voice teases, tickling my neck.

“Harry!” I exclaim with surprise, grabbing hold of his forearms. “Why do you love to scare me so much?”

“I dunno, ‘s fun, and coz yer a brat, so ya deserve it,” he giggles, and finally I relent and do too as I turn around to face him.

“I am not a brat!” I argue, finding his flushed stubbly cheeks, taking a second to get used to the thick stubble covering them now.

“Ya are, I reckon, couldn’t even wake me up last night t’ finish tha rest o’ tha FRIENDS episode on FaceTime, jus’ kept watchin’ along without me. If that doesn’t make ya a brat, then I dunno what does,” he tuts, clucking his tongue as he shakes his head at me. My giggles grow into a hearty chuckle as his folded hands settle at the small of my back.

“Harry Edward!” I scoff, swatting at his chest once again hidden by his Northface coat, matching his black skinny jeans.

“Hey, ya betta watch that hand o’ yers, bug, and that mouth too.”

“I’m not a brat,” I whine, all facial features falling into a pout that immediately grabs his attention.

“Rebecca Ann, don’t even start with me. Put that bloody pout away befo’ ya regret it,” he insists, pointing his eyes at me with the smallest of smirks peeking through on his lips. It wins him over and soon his dimples accompany his deep laugh. “Stop, yer not a brat, bug, ‘m jus’ teasin’ ya. Y’know that. Jus’ can’t believe it didn’t even take a week fer ya t’ skip ahead o’ me in our show.”

“The episode was already three quarters of the way over!” I protest, earning a good finger wag at me. I fight back and push against his chest. “And I didn’t want to wake you up, you were so tired.”

“No, it was not! It was only half way through and ya couldn’t even wake me up! How rude o’ my Becks t’ be makin’ up excuses.”

“Stop being mean to me,” I pout again, beginning to turn away with my arms crossed over my chest.

“Hey, ‘m jus’ givin' ya a hard time, bug, y’know that. Yer neva a brat, and even if ya are, yer my brat,” Harry hums warmly, the honey returning to his voice in full force as he catches me around the middle with his arms once again. I can’t remember the last time I heard his voice absent of the honey, though. I don’t ever want to. “I wouldn’t want ya any otha way.”

“I knew you were only joking.”

“You li’l liar!” he laughs against my temple and mine joins his ever so contagious one. “Y’know, ‘ve always loved how ya neva take me shit and how ya can dish it right back, Becks.”

“Of course, I figured out at the very beginning that I wouldn’t get by without it.”

“That’s me girl,” he coos, bringing me forth and round to find his gentle green eyes once more. They smile at me with a sparkle to them I haven’t had the pleasure to know before. I’ve yet to see him look at anybody this way, and I wonder if I have my own special look in my eyes for him, too. If I do, it was born long ago.

“What are you doing here? I thought you had said you were going to take it easy until Monday, since your case got done early,” I wonder aloud, unsure of what to do with my hands until they venture to his coat’s zipper on their own, pulling it up and down distractedly.

“I was, until My’ roped me into a partner meetin’ t’day, and I wanted t’ see a special sumbody,” he sighs with an accented roll of his eyes at first, and then they dish out their dazzle on me. “But that’s it, and ‘m off afta that. I hafta do a li’l work fer my case afta finishin’ it, but it’ll only take ten minutes tops. Then laundry, cleanin’, and tha like at home before grocery shoppin’. Only jus’ now got outta bed, tha bloody jetlag.”

“Ah, I see. The work of a lawyer never ends, it seems,” I comment and he nods above me, eyes watching my every move closely. “God, if I knew you’d be here today I would have tried a little harder when I got dressed this morning,” I laugh nervously, my eyes falling to his crimson button-up peeking out from his coat, decorated with gray flowers and foliage.

“Ya don’t even hafta try and ya look gorgeous, Becks. Promise,” Harry disagrees, the molasses pouring out from his words and into my heart, pushing the very last chip away. Just like that, I’m all his again, but I think it happened long before this and I didn’t know. Daring a look up at him, the dimples couldn’t be deeper in his cheeks as his sunshine smile radiates onto me, the pad of his thumb rough against my cheek. “I sure missed seein’ that smile, ‘s me favourite.”

My anxiousness carries away with the sunshine, and I’m left with red cheeks and a smile that makes them hurt. It almost pains me to look into his bright sunny eyes, but I wouldn’t want to be looking anywhere else. Finally, I let myself look and with that, I let him in a little further and start to let go.

“You’re really laying it on thick,” I jest harmlessly with a smile, dragging my finger down the seam of his chest where the two sides of the fabric meet in red cloth buttons.

“Ya, coz I finally can,” he grins, and the warmth spreading across my body in tingly waves finds an outlet in a soft laugh of mine.

Anxious yes, but ever so happy while his hand spreads out flush against my back, fingertips moving lazily. I’ve already pinched myself once or twice today wondering if this is all a dream, and shocked that I could ever be this happy. There were so many times I doubted the existence of it and its possibility, and everything it had to do with having this with Harry. Predictably, an electronic twinkle interrupts our conversation, and I’m confused to find him lifting his wrist.

“Woah, look at the fancy lawyer,” I tease, his already colossal smile growing taller as he flicks a finger across his shiny new Apple watch. “That must have cost a pretty penny.”

“Ya, and My’ dished out e’ry last cent,” he titters, pressing his palm to the shiny surface rounded by space grey edges, returning his eyes and hands to me. “It was his birthday present t’ me, sayin’ that I should be mo’ organized at me age, or sumthin’.”

“Talk about brutal honesty right there.”

“Don’t go bloody agreein’ with him now!” Harry scoffs, but his mouth open in disgust is no more, lined by joyous lips that soon attack my cheeks in kisses.

“No, no, no!” I beg aloud in shrieks when his quick fingers dance along my ribs, sending jolts of electricity across my body. More exclamations and pleas escape them before I say the magic words, “Harry Edward!”

“What d’ya want, hmm, Rebecca Ann?” he asks breathlessly, that adorable breathy laugh falling off of his glossy cherry lips.

“I think you like saying my full name too much,” I contend, giving up and falling into the sage green abyss of his eyes for the hundredth time, or more.

“Maybe I do. Maybe I like it,” he shrugs mischievously, that smirk glued to his lips that pull me in.

“Do you like it, the watch?”

“Ya, ‘s nice. I thought ‘d told ya ‘bout it, sorry. Reckon it has helped me t’ stay organized. Speakin’ of, me meetin’ ‘s inna few, so I hafta take off, bug,” he croons with disapproving lips, his bottom lip soon jutting out from the top.

“Harry Styles, don’t you even!” I threaten rather weakly, the sounds of happiness leaving my lips doing a good job of that.

“Oh, and what if I don’t? Hmmm, Rebecca Holte, jus’ what will ya do ‘bout it?” Harry returns, wiggling an eyebrow at me that makes my chest rumble with harder laughter.

“I’ll just have to stop you, but I don’t know how just yet.”

A devilish smirk is born on his lips before my eyes, and soon leaves my view while his face escapes to the crook of my neck, his voice soon tickling my skin, “Lawyers gotta be quick on their feet, bug. Reckon I can think o’ a way ya can make these lips stop poutin’, maybe ya can try it on me t’morro’ afta our date,” he hums against my neck, knitting up his sentence with a whisper of a kiss below my ear.

I feel like a fricken sixteen-year-old all over again, and I’m loving every second.

“You better get going to your meeting, before you’re late, Harry,” I giggle uncontrollably, sure that my face is blotchy with red all over because of what he just said. My suspicion is confirmed when he lifts his head of moused curls to look me in the eyes again, and the glint in them tells me so. I feel like I can read him even better now, all because he’s letting me.

“‘s alright, they expect me t’ be late by now, ‘s a given,” he insists with a comedic shrug of his shoulders, hands wandering away from my back and to our sides where they invite my hands into his.

“Will you stop and say goodbye this time?”

“‘Course, bug. ‘m sorry I missed ya yestaday, ya had already left afta I had made me rounds,” he assures me, receiving a quiet ‘it’s okay’ from me.

“Try not to fall asleep at your meeting today,” I joke, watching his eyes roll into the back of his head briefly before he scoops me into his arms for a squeeze.

“I won’t if ya promise not t’ be a brat anymo’ and skip ahead in our show.”

“Get lost and go to your meeting already!” I laugh, shoving him away by his chest, observant of his mouth relaxing into a disbelieving ‘O’. His laugh echoes mine quickly, only disrupted when my hand comes to his cheek to plant my lips on his other for a few seconds longer than necessary. “I’m so glad you’re back, Harry.”

“So am I, Becks, so bloody much,” he echoes, holding my hands a little tighter in his, even bringing one to his lips for a kiss. “Good luck on yer case, love, for tha thousandth time. ‘m so proud o’ you.”

With that, he leaves me in a puddle of my own surreal emotions, disappearing from my office with a look over his shoulder wearing that smirk. That very smirk I want so desperately to kiss off those cherry lips already. Tomorrow, I think, if I can make it until then. Just one more day.

I had been struggling with finishing this last part, or rather redoing it, for too long now. When my eyes again strayig to the violet clock, I was surprised to find that it had been almost an hour, and I hadn’t gotten much further. With my head in my hands, I sigh as feelings battle to be felt within my insides. After today’s argument, Myles and I had to shift our approach, and I still wasn’t sure of how to do that. He had been helping me, of course, but I still felt so lost. It doesn’t help that he’s currently caught up in the partner’s meeting that Harry is also at, and Jennings who is but isn’t a partner. I still don’t get it, even though Harry explained it to me a few times. The next time he does, I’ll have to remember to ask him to dumb it down for me.

Even after pouring over our shared notes in Google Docs, and my several law books strewn across my desk, I’m at a loss for what to do.

I wish more than anything that it was already five pm tomorrow, and that the only thing I have to think about is my date with Harry. I still don’t know what the hell to wear, or to do with my hair, or how heavy to go with my makeup.

“Why tha long face, bug?” somebody pipes up, pulling me away from my immersive thoughts. Blinking hard, I tear my eyes away from the laptop screen and look over to the door, but I don’t lift my tired head from my propped fist.

“I don’t know what to do for my argument.”

“Still? Why didn’t ya jus’ ask, Becks?” Harry hums with an inviting smile, pressing the door to come just shy of closing.

I shrug my shoulders with a heavy exhale, scrolling through what I have so far, quickly realizing how embarrassing it’ll be to show him. I can’t exit out quickly enough, hearing his footsteps arrive behind me.

“Hey, what d’ya think yer doin’?” he teases when I switch tabs, quickly feeling the weight of his hand on top of mine, dragging the mouse along. “Don’t be nervous, love, ‘m here t’ help. Always am,” he coos softly, a hand settling on my adjacent shoulder, earning me an encouraging squeeze.

“It’s embarrassing, Harry. I’ve been sitting here for over an hour trying to figure out what to do, and I have next to nothing to show for it.”

“Relax, ‘s only yer first official case yer arguin’. Don’t be so hard on yerself, Becks. It sounds like ya need a break, bug,” he insists, sending sparks along my left arm as he rubs stripes along the skin. It’s not long before I hear a familiar laugh and slowly, Harry’s dancing figure comes into view. “Yo ‘ll tell ya what I want, what I really, really want. So tell me what ya want, what ya really, really want,” he belts out, his phone blasting the song cupped in his hand.

“Oh my God,” I sigh with an accidental laugh, my head falling into my hands. I’m too curious though, and so I peek out from behind my spread fingers to watch him sing passionately with his eyes closed while breaking out some amusing dance moves. “Please, stop,” I chuckle, but I’m sure he also hears the lie in my voice.

“‘m not stoppin’.”

“Please, Harry. You’re going to make me die from secondhand embarrassment,” I confess into my hands, feeling brave and letting my fingers fall down to below my eyes. Mistakenly, his catch mine and they fly back up to cover my eyes, or for the most part.

“Rebecca Ann, ‘m not stoppin’ ‘til ya come and join me.”

“Then you’re going to be there for a while,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders, certain of one thing and that’s the smile claiming my lips, and the forgotten document staring at me. I’m too preoccupied with the silly, dancing man in front of my eyes, and how somehow this makes me love him all the more.

“Becks,” he insists, in between singing along to the song very badly. Oh no, I think as his steps near me once again. Before I know it, I’m staring into darkness as his breath tickles the back of my neck.

“Stop,” I beg with laughs interjected among my pleas. They grow into near shouts and exclamations when his singing is accompanied by his fingers dancing across my sides, and along the slopes of my neck. “Harry!” I almost yell, and when my laughs couldn’t hurt my belly more, it all ceases. Only the singing remains and is joined by his stubbly cheek against my temple, and his arms coiled around my shoulders. “If ya wanna be my lova, ya gotta get with my friends.”

“Make it last forever, friendship never ends,” I continue for him, giggles heard at the end when his nose tickles the corner of my sensitive neck.

“There’s me happy Becks, ‘m glad I found her ‘gain,” Harry coos, leaving a kiss on my temple before he helps me to tackle my argument.

Five days did and didn’t feel very long when I think about it now, with his arms wrapped around me as his voice tickles my ear. Too easily, I can remember his absence over those long days, and how effortlessly they felt far longer. I barely survived with his texts and phone calls alone, and it hurts to think that if it hadn’t been for his case finishing early, I’d still be sitting here in my office all in my lonesome.

Those thoughts are yanked away - thank God - when his voice brings me back, spewing legal mumbo jumbo that luckily nowadays I can understand, but I couldn’t have always said that. Harry makes quick work of what would be my best route to take and how I do that, and for the fiftieth time in the last two days, I couldn’t be more grateful for how easy things are coming together. I couldn’t be more thankful to have him by my side. It still feels like a dream getting to live this life now, and getting to work with him on the daily, singing Spice Girls amidst stolen cheek kisses.

One puzzle piece at a time, and there’s only one or two pieces left in this puzzle of ours.

The murmur of voices assaults my ears when I walk through the door, and feel my vision tugged towards the ceiling decorated with chandeliers. A song by Frank Sinatra floats around the entryway, hardly calming my overactive nerves, despite it being a favorite of my late grandpa’s. When I finally reach the host’s stand, the nerves topple out with my words, jumbling them.

“Reservation for H-Harry Styles, please,” I tell the towering, dark haired man. After a few moments tapping away on the kiosk, he grabs two menus and leads me through a maze of linen covered tables sat under the glow of the several chandeliers.

I try to hide my disappointment when he leads me to an empty, round table, leaving with a few words about my server being with me soon. Another feeling bubbles up inside me, forcing itself to join all of the others mixed together within me. I had a feeling I was too early, I think silently as I shrug off my long pea coat to hang over my chair. Skye’s wishes of good luck and ‘lots of snogging’ float back to me, filling my sad cheeks with another wash of pink. ‘No, you aren’t driving yourself, I’m dropping you off so then you can get a ride home with him, and lay a big one on him when he walks you up,’ she had insisted, but the anxiousness years in the making is doing a good job of making me doubt myself tonight.

My attention drifts to my phone that is silent with no new messages, but I still check our conversation. The last message was from him:

see u in half an hour for our date bug :) xxx

My thumb scrolls through our previous messages, straying to last night’s that brings a smile to my face.

I have no idea what to wear tomorrow :/

meant it when i said u look beautiful in anything Becks ;) help what should i wear ? xx

I might be a little impartial to that gray suit you wore to my class lecture that one time ;)

noted ;) i may especially love the color red on u if u wanna know

Noted ;) Question....

shoot, love

Skye was gonna drop me off tonight on her way to her boyfriend’s …. Would a ride home be too much to ask?

course not Becks. anytime u need a ride im here. id love to give u a ride home. perfect we can jam 2 some spice girls in the car then ;)

I can’t wait

neither can i bug :)

My reminiscing is interrupted when my eyes fall to my outfit of choice, tugging up the scoop neck that Skye insisted wasn’t ‘too slutty.’ Now, I’m not so sure about it, and I can’t decide if I wish he’d show up already, or if I’m not ready. Those thoughts are stolen away when the texts disappear on my phone, his smiling face claiming the screen with a jingle.

“Hello?” I answer with a gulp, trying to hide the anxious tremble in my voice. I can’t help it, my eyes dart to my wrist, noticing it’s already 6:05 pm.

“Hi, bug. ‘m sorry but tha traffic ‘s horrendous and ‘m afraid ‘ll be late gettin’ t’ tha restaurant. E’rybody else ‘s comin’ home from work too,” Harry explains from the other side, a weird sound taking over his voice. Yeah, we’re not too good at this pretending thing anymore, are we? I can hear the nerves in his voice, probably just like he can hear them in mine.

“Oh, it’s okay, Harry. I don’t mind at all, just be careful driving,” I respond, feeling a sense of relief at knowing where he is. I know he never would, but it squashes the tiny voice inside of me saying he wasn’t ever going to show up.

“‘Course I will, love. Thanks fer understandin’. Reckon ‘ll be there in ten. Are ya there already?” he responds, just the sound of his voice doing wonders at calming me down. The only thing that could take it all away is a hug, one of his.

“Yeah, I just sat down.”

“Mmmm, d’ya mind scopin’ out tha menu while yer there? I won’t be too long, we can order once I get there, if that’s alright,” he asks, the sound of traffic sneaking into our phone call for a second. Then, I hear him sigh ‘finally’ and the subsequent thrum of the motor.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll see you soon then, careful driving.”

“I can’t wait t’ see you, Becks,” he hums before hanging up, leaving me sitting across from an empty chair that I can’t stop picturing him sitting in.

This is really happening.

Finally.

The sound of her voice rings in my ears, and does nothing to stop the anxious shakes coursing throughout my body. Curses fall under my breath as I honk at somebody who pulls out right in front of me, making me slam on my brakes. With a sigh, I turn on my indicator before making my turn.

Pulling my keys from the ignition drenches my surroundings in silence, and reminds me of my heart beating wildly within my chest. Looking up, the decorative windows of the restaurant appear before me in shrouded light. She’s somewhere in there . . waiting for me.

Get it together, Harry. You can do this.

My eyes drift to the rear view mirror and I card my fingers through my hair until it looks decent enough. That’s as good as it’s going to get, I almost mutter while smoothing down my blazer underneath my coat. The bone chilling February night nips at my face once my feet touch the tarmac. Streetlights cast glows all around me, as well as the headlights of several cars. The thumping within my chest grows louder and faster as my feet near the door, and then the stand where a manicured man waits.

“Hi. I made a reservation unda the name ‘Harry Styles’,” I tell him, immediately casting my eyes to the tables within view, searching for her dark chocolate locks.

“Right this way,” he replies, waving a hand to follow him and I do. He leads me past several tables, empty and occupied, and almost gets me lost in the process.

The last thing I feel is lost when my eyes finally find her.

“Thank you. I-I got it from here,” I tell him hurriedly, holding a hand out that brings us both to a halt. He walks away after a short ‘you’re welcome,’ leaving me there, right where I want to be.

I don’t remember the smile reaching my ears or my heart quieting within my chest as I watch her flip through the menu thirty feet away from me. The prettiest red dress dons her long body, falling just underneath her collarbones and draped over the curve of her shoulders. Her hair falls in dark, natural waves, almost hiding the round opal sitting above the scoop of scarlet fabric. A tingling sensation blankets my body from head to toe, and the image of Becks sitting there waiting for me is burned into my mind.

It feels like I’m meeting her again for the first time, but I’m not. This feels like a new first time, and I know it’s one I won’t ever forget, much like the very first time I laid my eyes upon her.

It felt like a Monday. For the bloody life of me, I couldn’t remember if it was one at the moment. Is it Monday? I’m not sure, but with the way things were going today, it sure felt like one. The copier had a jam, I forgot the first lunch I’ve made in years at home, and my girlfriend had been annoying the fuck out of me this morning. To top it all off, I had applicants being interviewed today to fill the position of my personal assistant, ever since the last one bolted. She didn’t last more than two weeks, a big surprise.

Pete had been blowing up my phone for the last ten minutes, and I finally had had enough. Without an announcement or a knock, I stride into his office, fully intent on finding out what the hell he wants.

“I’m a little busy, if you haven’t noticed,” he retorts over the head of dark chestnut locks sat in front of him. Presumably, one of the new applicants for my personal assistant. Hmm.

“Well, ya kept ringin’ me bloody phone, Pete. So, what tha hell d’ya want?” I insist, throwing up a hand that falls to my thigh with a loud slap.

Suddenly, I wish the quiet little thing would turn around, and give me a look at her. Shy, she is, it seems. There she sits, tucked away into her little shell, dressed to impress in a dark dress.

“I’m in the middle of an interview!” he exclaims, certainly making a good first impression with the applicant. It makes me wonder for the tenth time why I bother having him do the interviews, but then I remember that I don’t really give a fuck, as long as I don’t have to do them.

“What fer, huh?” I tease, instantly getting a snappy response from Pete about it being for me, as if I didn’t already know. But, I did, and am only doing this to bother him even more.

“Ooo, ‘s it now? Ya get me a good one? Huh, Pete?” I grin, taking a step forward as a hand in my pocket plays with the tiny, metal guitar attached to my key ring. Sticking my head out as I move forward, my eyes dance across her head, and her profile that soon comes into view. “Hullo, love. Gonna be me new one, are ya? Petey here says I can’t keep one fer tha life o’ me, so here he ‘s interviewin’ me anotha one. How’s she doin’ so far, Petey? Think she’s a winna?” I joke aloud, knowing full well the effect my words have on the both of them.

My subsequent introduction falls from my lips after a retort from Pete, and then the stranger finally turns to look me in the eyes. I rack my brain, trying to put a name to her face from a prior conversation with Pete. Or was it going over her resume when it came in the other day? I can’t remember which, and I blame it on her captivating baby blue eyes, as well as the intoxicating smile that greets my own. Words float from her lips and grace my ears for the very first time, and I knew immediately that she was something else.

“Hi, my name is Becky. Becky Holte.”

Little did I know how drastically she would change my life, sometimes I thought for the worse, but ultimately for the better. The better, always. I had no way of knowing at that very moment, how many times she would come to save me.

My Becks.

The sound of homemade ravioli filled with chicken and three kinds of cheese is almost making my mouth water. It also makes me wonder when Harry will finally be here, and habitually, my eyes lift to look for him. To my surprise, I find him standing a ways away with the sweetest smile stuck to his lips.

“Hiya, Becks. Sorry ‘m late. Ya look . . absolutely gorgeous, by tha way,” he comments once he’s within a few steps of the table. He reaches across to squeeze my arm before sitting down across from me, a blush pinching his cheeks.

“Thank you, Harry. I uh, like the suit you went with, you look very handsome in it. Good choice,” I return, failing to not focus on the fast thrumming deep inside of me.

“Ya, a certain sumbody said it was their favourite on me, so I couldn’t disappoint,” he grins with a shrug, unfastening the button at his waist, exposing the satiny black button-up hidden underneath.

“Good, I’m glad you didn’t,” I smile, sure of the warmth he can see filling my cheeks, because I can see it mirrored in his own. “I like that you kept the stubble.”

“Why thank you,” he comments, once again rubbing it with his thumb and forefinger, and like before, making me all the more jealous. “I trimmed it up a li’l bit, figured I betta.”

“Oh, I hope you keep it. I think I prefer you with it.”

“D’ya now, Becks?” he teases with a lift of his eyebrows, his tousled curls almost tickling his forehead, but just barely. “‘ll hafta rememba that,” he smiles, and more than ever, it’s incredibly contagious. My cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling by now, but I don’t even mind.

“The um,” I begin nervously, my eyes falling to the elegant paper menu opened in front of me. It pains me to look away from him and the sunshine emanating from his smile, but it’s not so bad when I feel his chelsea boot knock against my heel, remaining there against the back of my ankle. “Chicken ravioli sounds good, as well as the margherita pizza, and Cacio e Pepe. Lots of good choices for dessert, too.”

“Mmm, they all sound good, love. Thanks fer lookin’ fer us,” he muses aloud, head bent down to peer at the menu when I glance over to him.

His habit returns and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth, and somehow, it makes my smile grow bigger. I didn’t think that was possible, but here I am with aching cheeks. I nudge his foot with mine and he looks up with a question on his face, soon relaxing into a sparkling smile. That effervescent look in his eyes from the other day returns, and if I hadn’t known it already, I truly could look into his eyes for the rest of eternity. The dimples haven’t left his cheeks since he arrived, and his raspberry lips beg at me from across the table.

“Let’s give it a try then,” he remarks, closing his menu without breaking our eye contact. The words dipped in honey flow from his lips and tickle something inside me, and I want more than anything to hear another meaning in them. His foot nudging at mine in return only makes me give in to it, and so does his wink.

Our server arrives at our table shortly, and I thank God for the champagne she pours into tall flutes, not taking the edge off fast enough. A conversation blossoms between us about his case, and then mine with Myles.

“Ya did great by tha way. Congrats on tha win, Becks, ‘m so fookin’ proud o’ you,” Harry grins adamantly, sweetness pouring off of his words that come out with a shake of his head.

“Thank you so much, Harry. Wait, how’d you know we won it? I was just going to tell you,” I ask with furrowed brows, and receive a measly shrug of his shoulders in return. The look on his face, as if a revelation is threatening to burst from his lips, teases at me until it abates when the server brings us waters and we order.

“So so bloody proud o’ you t’day, Becks,” he whispers as she pulls out her notepad and a pen. Possibilities blossom within my mind after he sends me a coy wink and knocks his foot against mine again. It doesn’t leave my own throughout the rest of our time there, during our meal and the laughs we share over glasses of champagne, and a plate of Tiramisu that I somehow let him share with me.

“I knew it! You were there today, sitting in the gallery, weren’t you?!” I exclaim, mumbling a short ‘thank you’ when he opens the car door for me.

“Maybe,” Harry shrugs casually, walking around the front of the car as I fall onto the leather seat.

“Harry Styles!” I nearly shout, if it weren’t for my voice dissolving into a giggle as he slides behind the steering wheel next to me.

“What? I had some stuff t’ do at tha courts, so I may have popped in fer a mo’,” he explains.

“Sure,” is all I say as I pull the seat belt across my chest.

“Hush, and play some music, bug. Here,” he insists, handing me his grey iPhone that looks normal sized in his hand, and then gigantic in mine.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to watch?”

“Coz o’ that right there, Becks. Yer nervous ‘bout it right now afta tha fact, imagine how ya woulda been if ‘d told ya I was comin’ befo’ yer argument t’day,” he returns, pressing buttons on the dash and soon, waves of hot air greet my cold body.

“I guess you’re right.”

“‘m what? I didn’t catch that,” Harry jests, cupping his ear. A scoff flies from my lips and I playfully swat his shoulder. “Hey, watch it. ‘m drivin’.”

“You haven’t even switched gears, so shut up,” I laugh, catching the eye roll he thinks I don’t see. “I see that eye roll, Styles, you better watch it.”

“You betta watch it, Becks. Betta pick a good Spice Girls song too, ‘m payin’ attention,” he jokes, soon his fingers diving into my side. A laugh escapes me unwillingly, and yanks my eyes over to his giggling lips.

His name leaves mine in a near shriek, and after a blink, his tickling fingers are gone and lacing between mine. The dark flecks in his sage green eyes catch under the overhead light before it turns off automatically. He gives my hand a good squeeze as his eyes melt into mine, and a zing of electricity runs up my fingers and then my arm. The smile falling into his cheeks mirrors the one that’s been glued to my lips all night, and now grows higher and higher. I return the squeeze just as he looks to his mirrors, the click of the doors locking when he shifts to Reverse.

It almost hurts to look away, but so many other feelings and thoughts are occupying me as my eyes fall to his phone. Disbelief washes over me as his long, ringed fingers sit between mine. It only grows when he lifts our intertwined hands up and over the middle console, to sit on his warm thigh.

An uninvited wave of pain hits me when I spot familiar sad songs amongst his music library, like the familiar ‘When She Loved Me’ that could make any Toy Story fan weep within seconds of hearing it. It intensifies when my eyes run over the songs Before You Go, Wish You Were Here, Say You Won’t Let Go, and With or Without You. Chancing a glance over at him, he stares straight ahead into the dark night, and a bittersweetness greets me. I try not to let it in, and the realization that perhaps those lost seven months were hell for him too, as were those five days apart.

“Find it? I have Spice World on there sumwhere. I know I have loads o’ shit on there, sorry,” he comments, turning his head to check his left before pulling onto the busy road.

“Y-Yeah,” I stutter, looking back to his expansive music library spanning from the 50’s to current music. His thumb drawing circles onto my knuckles brushes some of the sadness away as I bring up the album he speaks of.

“Bloody hell, why ya choosin’ tha sad one, Becks?” he titters, glancing over to me when we come to a stop at a light. His smile shining back at me whisks away the last drops of the sadness, but hints of it remain with me, begging to be felt. I shrug my shoulders as the beginning lyrics of ‘Too Much’ fills the car, and I only turn it up louder. “I get t’ pick tha next song, if yer playin’ sad stuff. Bloody rubbish you are at pickin’ songs,” he sighs jokingly with a shake of his head, curls tickling his ears and the nape of his neck.

“I am not!”

“‘Kay, brat, keep talkin’,” he snickers, earning another scoff from me that he answers with a harder laugh. I cast my eyes to the window with an exaggerated whimper, soon hearing his profuse apologies. “‘m kiddin’, Becks, bloody hell. I already know ya have a good taste in music from all o’ our talks. I like this song too, jus’ thought ya’d go fer some happy songs, seein’ tha . . occasion and e’rythin’. Hey.”

I answer him with my eyes returning to him, finding his wink before he looks back to traffic, and with my thumb coasting back and forth across his smooth skin. I listen to the lyrics, feeling another squeeze of my hand from him before I change the song.

“Hey, don’t change it befo’ ‘s done!” he exclaims, and I just laugh, watching his shocked lips soon do the same.

“Then stop complaining,” I argue, catching another roll of his eyes as the car slows to a stop in front of another light. Joy buds on my lips as the surprise unfolds on his features, meanwhile his eyes crinkle, the dimples fall deeper, and his raspberry lips thin out as a smile consumes his face.

“I knew ya were sumthin’ special,” he notes aloud with a shake of his head, a giggle emanating from his joyous smile, right before he joins me to sing along to Shania Twain’s ‘Man, I Feel Like A Woman.’

His fingers laced between mine continue to send my heart into overdrive as we belt out the song between contagious laughs, and then another crowd favourite, ‘You’re Still The One.’ This one gets me and sometimes throughout the song, I can’t get myself to look at him with the sincerity held in the lyrics. As well as the words that hit too close to home.

Finally, I can’t stand it anymore, and my eyes drift over to his at the end of the song, finding that his are already on mine. “‘m so glad we made it. Look how far we’ve come, my baby,” Harry finishes with his eyes dancing upon me with that smile dripping with molasses. As if his hand squeezing mine periodically throughout the song wasn’t already making me want to cry, now I really could. I return the gesture before looking out the window, blinking back the arriving tears from my eyes as those lasting words sing inside of my head.

Yeah, we finally made it, Harry. Belatedly, but finally.

“‘s been years since ‘ve been here, hasn’t changed much tho’,” Harry remarks softly, only a few steps away from my door.

“Yeah, the inside looks bout the same too.”

“‘m sure. Maybe I could see fer meself one o’ these days,” he remarks aloud, and when my eyes drag over to his nervously, I answer him with a nod.

“I’d like that.”

“Me too,” he coos, rubbing the pad of his thumb along the back of my hand. A shy smile nudges at the edge of my lips as he stands in front of me, my right hand still safe within his. “Well, I had a wondaful time t’night, thanks again.”

“You’re welcome, and thank you too. I had a lot of fun . . with you.”

“So did I, bug. ‘ll um, text you later then?” Harry says, clearing his throat awkwardly, his bottom lip soon returning to its nervous spot.

“Y-yeah, sounds good,” I mumble quietly, eyes falling to my hand that he drops. The absence of his warmth against mine feels very strange now, having been holding hands for the entire drive and subsequent walk up to my apartment.

“Night, Becks.”

“Goodnight, Harry, careful driving,” is the last thing I say before slipping behind my door, finding Skye perched on the sofa. The monotonous, forced words echo in my ears and my eyes fall to the floor, disappointment flooding every inch of me.

“So, how’d it go?! Did you finally fucking kiss him?!” she shouts the second the door meets its frame.

“No,” I admit between shy lips, the steps I take seeming as if they’re from somebody else’s body, not mine. The entire last five minutes feels like somebody else had lived them, not me. No, it can’t end like that. “Not yet, anyways,” I rush, ignoring my shoes I already toed off, spinning around and ripping open the door. “Harry, wait!” I exclaim, finding his surprised expression waiting in front of the lift.

“What?” he asks, eyebrows bent into a questioning mess.

“I-I forgot something,” I manage, the words spilling out in a heap while he closes the distance between us, stopping right in front of me. Right where I need him.

“Forgot what, bug? Did ya forget yer shoes in me car?” he titters, the fluorescent glow overhead picking out the few blonde hairs in his stubble.

“No . . something else,” I finally admit, taking a step when there aren’t any left.

The dimples remain set into his cheeks while his eyes fall to my lips and mine raise to his. His facial hair is prickly and dense under the pad of my thumb, and his coveted bottom lip is warm and pillowy. The golden hue of his olive green irises fills my mind when my lips finally meet his, and at last, I find his bottom lip between my own. His sweet giggle sounds against my lips as my fingers get lost in his buttery curls. I come to echo it when his hands shock me with their coldness against my hips, pulling me closer to him. One strays to the back of my head as his lips move against mine, the word ‘finally’ repeating incessantly within my mind. His barely there beard is scratchy against my skin, contrasting to the smooth tip of his nose grazing my cheek. The cinnamon and cocoa powder from the Tiramisu cake tickles my taste buds while his spicy vanilla smell covers me like a blanket. Zings shoot across my palm pressed to his smiling cheek, his facial hair prickly against the sensitive skin.

Not feeling like what was actually mere seconds later, air fills my lungs when we pull away at the same time, sharp inhales filling the air. Quickly, his sweet giggle joins it, and ropes one of my own in. The tip of his nose leaves trails on my cheek as his forehead falls onto mine.

“Ya have no idea how long ‘ve waited fer that,” Harry rasps, his warm breath dancing across my lips. His own press a whisper of a kiss to mine briefly, although after that, now I’m sure it could never be long enough.

“I think I do know,” I mumble, my hand straying to his chin where I brush the tip of my thumb against the flesh of his bottom lip.

“‘m sorry it took us so long, bug.”

“It’s okay, we’re here now. Finally,” I tell him and he nods, the twinkle in his eye bright as can be. For the first time, I let myself melt and lose myself in the greens of his eyes. Something I have wanted to do ever since the very first time I looked into his green eyes and knew I was fucked.

“Yes, we are. And look at you, Becks. Ya beat me t' tha first date and tha first kiss,” he smirks with a decadent laugh adorning his words. I can’t help but join him while I twirl a ringlet of his hair around the tip of my finger against the back of his neck.

“Oh, it’s okay, Harry. You got the first hand hold, and the first Shania Twain car duet.”

A roll of his miraculous eyes accompanies his continuing laugh, “Ya, well, so did you, but I got tha more romantic one,” he insists, words welcomed by my surprised scoff.

“Wait, you don’t find ‘Man, I Feel Like A Woman’ romantic?!” I nearly exclaim in faux disbelief, my voice softening into a giggle quickly.

“Only when you sing it, bug,” Harry smiles, thumbing circles into the small of my back.

“Wait, you got tha first handhold, brat. Rememba, when I visited you at yer old work that day? Bloody hell, you beat me t’ all tha good ones, Becks. No fair,” he snickers with a sigh to his words, the two contrasting the other. I suffice my response with an obligatory nod, feeling my heart just now starting to settle into a regular beat. “Becks, there’s so many things ‘ve wanted t’ say t’ you, and now, I finally can.”

“I think I know how you feel.”

“First thing ‘ll say ‘s I get tha second date and tha second kiss,” Harry contends with a smirk held in his eyes.

“Oh, really?” I giggle and he soon nods. He quiets the laugh beginning on my lips with his own giddy ones, my lips molding against his effortlessly. Thoughts blossom quickly within my mind, including why I waited so fucking long to kiss him. If I’d known all of these years how wonderful it feels to kiss him, I never would have waited this long. Our kisses are slow although hurried, our lips searching for the other’s desperately, and somehow perfectly. Years overdue, and it couldn’t feel any more perfect.

“Fookin’ hell, I jus’ wanna keep kissin’ you, Becks. Dunno if I can stop,” he chuckles, brushing his nose against mine softly. Shockingly, his eyes are even more gorgeous from this view, and I didn’t think that was possible. Evidently, anything is.

“You don’t have to,” I laugh and he shrugs his shoulders while his eyebrows mimic the expression, his giggle soon vibrating against my tingling lips.

“We have loads o’ lost time t’ make up fer,” he notes aloud.

“Yes, we do. A couple years, give or take.”

“Mmmhmm, yer right there, li’l one. Fook, there were so many times I wanted t’ kiss ya ova the years,” he sighs with a sad shake of his head. His dimple is soft under my fingertip, hidden under the warm brunette facial hair.

“Then kiss me.”

Too soon, his lips leave mine after a short peck, but I press at the back of his curls and envelope his laugh with my lips. My name falls from him in a delighted whisper before one more kiss. Our laughs grow louder only to be muffled, although weakly, when a figure walks by into their nearby apartment. My face runs to the crook of his neck, my very favorite song dancing along my ears as he holds me against him.

“Nothing to see here, sir,” I joke, and the warmth filling my insides grows at the sound of his happiness.

“No, I rememba I got tha first handhold that night we went out fer drinks tha first time. Tha night with tha Purple Hazes and all those shots,” Harry insists from above me, and I give him the funniest look when I come out of hiding.

“You’re still going on about that?” I ask in near disbelief, watching his curls move when he nods his head, dipping to meet my lips with his for a slow kiss.

“I don’t want this night to end,” I hum against the strawberry color of his decadent mouth.

“Neither do I, Becks. ‘ve been waitin’ fer it fer so long,” he agrees, the wispiness of his eyelashes ghostlike against my forehead.

“It’s getting late, and Skye is probably dying to hear how tonight went.”

“Ya betta go and tell tha poor girl then,” he responds, pulling my eyes towards his that sit just a moment away, sending all of the sunshine in my direction.

“That’s okay?”

“‘Course. I may or may not ring Myles on tha way home t’ tell him all ‘bout it,” he shrugs with a telling lilt to his sing-song voice. The only sound that leaves my lips is an amused laugh that he echoes, and I know that he feels the same way.

At last, I know after over two years that he feels the same way, through and through.

“We’ll figure out sumthin’ fer this weekend t’getha, sound good?”

“Yeah, sounds great, Harry,” I agree slowly and he nods ever so slightly, leaving kisses starting from my temple and down my cheek.

“G’night, bug.”

“Night, Harry. Drive careful,” I tell him and once again, he answers me with a nod.

“I promise, babe.”

“Goodnight,” I almost whisper, the very last breath of the word stolen away by his lips. I wouldn’t want it any other way, I barely am able to think as his lips massage mine between his. His neck is fiery beneath my palms and I’m sure mine is likened to it underneath his fingertips, surges of electricity passing below my skin. The skin is balmy against my blushing cheek when my arms come around his middle, surprising us both with a long hug, before I pull away first.

“Night, my Becks,” he murmurs against my lips, a shiver running down my spine when he leaves with a final squeeze to my hand. If that didn’t do it, the song flowing from his humming lips sparks memories behind my eyes, but I still can’t figure out where it’s from. But, I know that I have plenty of time to figure it out, and to get all of the kisses that I want from him.

Fucking finally.

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mrsjokerphoenix · 4 years

Text

CH. 1 Primed for Sin

Notes: This is my first fanfic so it’s probably not so good LOL its a bit personal and inspired by my own story of losing the love of my life. I was also listening to Slow dancing in a burning room by John Meyer to set the mood. Im open to constructive criticism so I can improve and make chpt 2 better. Enjoy

Ch. 1 primed for sin

This was your final walk down this hallway in Arkham hospital. The same hospital you came to a year ago looking for adventure and to escape the rut of all the daunting paperwork. When you were first hired by the CIA 6 years ago you naively thought it would be like a oo7 movie or spies you see in Hollywood movies. You couldn’t be more mistaken. A chuckle escaped your mouth as you signed in the sign in sheet. You could start to feel your legs getting heavier and heavier with every daunting step you took.

“Is Dr. Quinn in there? You asked the guard. Taking a drink of your black coffee. Bad idea your anxiety was already Moments away from becoming a panic attack.

“Yes, she’s waiting for you.” He answered in his usual bored monotone voice.

“Thank you, once she leaves bring in Arthur please and then you’re free to go as well until our session is over.” Quinn was Arthur’s state psychiatrist. You had paid her off so you could meet with Arthur privately. It had been a year and half since Meeting with Gary about a possible operation. Get his “lad” as he like to call Arthur, out of Arkham. Your specialty was arms deals but something in you wouldn’t let you turn it down.

You were able to pull some strings and be assigned as Arthurs new Doctor with the help of his current one. As a rogue agent you naturally distrusted her. Luckily she didn’t want the case and You were able to pay her off so she would leave during our sessions. Today would be the last one and by tomorrow Arthur or rather Joker would be a free man. You could feel your throat closing up. That lump in your throat threatening to suffocate you. No matter how much water you drank or coughing you did it persisted, reminding you just how much you had helplessly fallen in love. There was a chance you will never see each other again. It took every ounce in you to keep it together and not breakdown crying. You broke your most important rule “never fall in love” and now there was no going back. The realization of this left you breathless.

“ good job y/n” you mumbled sarcastically while setting everything down on the old warn down table. Arkham desperately needed to refurnish.

“How do you manage to get more beautiful every time I see you?” You had been so deep in thought, organizing your paperwork, and fighting back tears you didn’t notice Arthur walk in.

“Good morning to you too Arthur.” You grinned from ear to ear as he made his way to give you a hug. “are you ready for tomorrow?” You asked looking up and admiring how beautiful this man was. His salt/pepper hair slicked back leaving his features highlighted. The way his full brows made his green eyes so intense you could get lost in them forever. You had to look away. Never before had you seen eyes that held so much beauty and danger.

“Lets not talk about that kitten, I want this hour to be special. It is our last time meeting you know.” He said shooting you a half smile that made you weak in the knees. But you could see the sadness that decorated his face. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Arthur was so worried about you. Sweet Arthur if only others could see the real you. They would love you as much as I do.

“Look at me please” he ordered. “Youve been crying haven’t you?” Shaking his head

You wanted to lie, deny the whole ordeal, brush it all under the rug but you couldn’t lie to him and you fell into his arms. “Im going to miss you so much. I love you and I feel like my heart is being ripped out of my chest. I know we cant be together right now but it hurts. It hurts so much I cant breath.” Body wracked with an onslaught of sobs and tears.

He pulled you into his arms. His warmth would seep into your being and he comforted you without ever opening his mouth. You felt one of his tears cascade down your shoulder.He was intoxicating and every cell in your body craved him like an addict craves his fix. “Im sorry doll” his voice was heavy with pain, the same way guilt weighed down upon his shoulders.

“I know and i will be ok as long as you are safe, that’s all that matters to me Arthur” you replied forcing your voice to sound as normal and not break in the same way your heart was shattering with every second that passed.

He held you tightly. Hands on the small of your back while you wrapped your hands around his neck and face resting on his chest. The two of you danced with grief in the tiny white room in Arkham. Where it all begin. Unforeseen by you meeting him for the first time was like coming out of a hibernation you didn’t know you were in. His eyes green like spring breaking through winters snow. The same room where you had laughed, cried, and talked about the future together. You felt so complete in his arms. He took away the emptiness that like an abusive partner threatened to never leave and you a patient with Stockholm syndrome Obeyed finding comfort in it. You wanted to melt into him and become one so that nothing could ever tear you apart from him.

“We will see each other again I promise.” trying to not only convince him but convince yourself as well.

Arthur started humming the tune of one our favorite songs we slowly danced in a burning room. He whispered those dark silly jokes he was so proud of and knew would get a chuckle out of you. Oh how you prayed time would stop this instant and you could keep experiencing his velvet soft touch. Arthur was your home and soon you’d find yourself homeless once more.

A knock on the door jerked us back into reality. “Its time to take Mr.Fleck back to his room” you heard from across the door.

“Yes gives us a minute please!” You shouted resentfully. It wasn’t the guards fault but you had to take it out on someone. Grasping at any sense left of control.

“Time flies when you’re having fun” he said taking a seat across from your desk. It would be the last time he would sit in that chair. The chair that was a witness to our love story. Once comfortable he gracefully put a cigarette in between his lips and lit it. You found yourself Getting lost in his graceful confident movements. The opening of the box. The click of the lighter. The slight tilt of his head. Crisp burning of a cigarette. First small inhale. Exhale not letting it reach his lungs. The lift of his neck. Long drag. Exhale. It was as if time had slowed down. almost as if the universe was gifting you this so you could take it all in only for it to be preyed away from hands. Only leaving with you those haunting memories of what no longer is. Grieving for what will never be. Oh bittersweet universe. You cruel bastard.

“Yes, sorry” you said. You could feel your cheeks turn cherry red.

“You can stare at me all you want doll.” He insisted.

“Cocky arent we now.” We both broke into laughter. It seemed to lighten the air in the room. Thank God, those sinister white walls felt like they could collapse on you at any second.

still standing leaning on the desk. you turned to pick up the folder on the desk. You had gone over the plan several times and you were confident things would run smoothly. “Gary did a great job putting a team together for you” You advised.

Arthur reached to grab the folder not saying a word. “All the documents to your new properties, weapons bought. Also the names of politicians, law enforcements and agents that will be working for you are also included. Just incase they want to cause problems.”

“I love you y/n always remember that” he finally said.

“I love you too Arthur, Good luck tomorrow everything will work out as planned.” Arthur leaned in for one last tender passionate kiss. His honey sweet tongue dancing with yours to a tune only you two were privy to. Suddenly the guard barged in to take him.

“Im sorry to interrupt but its time” walking towards Arthur. If looks could kill you would have killed him a thousand times over.

You watched as he was handcuffed again and lead out of the room. Arthur never taking his eyes off of you. As soon as the door closed your legs betrayed you as you feel to your knees. The pain flooded every inch of your body like a dam unable of being contained any longer. Tears stinging as they made their way down your cheeks. “Comeback please!” You tried to yell in vain. Unable to find the strength to let it out. “Why do you always take from me God, everything I love gets taken” you cursed at the sky. You had not felt such intense pain since the passing of your mother. Finally finding the strength to pick your shaking limbs off the floor, you noticed a folded note on the desk.

“I was never really insane, except on occasions where my heart was touched.” Go with me doll, i cant do this alone. meet me at the warehouse. We leave at 9. Joker

#joker fanfiction #joker #joker 2019 #joker x reader #arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #joaquin phoenix #joaquin pheonix joker #fanfic #lovers

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normal-thoughts-official · 5 years

Note

Ok so I know some people in the fandom don't like talking about Magnus' past lovers because anyone that isn't Alec everyone just turns their heads but ok listen. Your last response about Magnus and queer history my head immediately went to Freddie Mercury and oh please I would like a little more insight on how they met and their relationship. The only thing we knew was that Magnus would go to his concerts and even drag his friends along. What I would give to learn more about them.

FUCK MY LIFE anon listen idk if you fully know what you're getting yourself into by asking me this because i am literally OBSESSED with Magnus' relationship with Queen and Freddie like im literally VIBRATING rn i was answering the questions in order but i just HAD to answer this one immediately because !!!!!!!!!!!!! fuck fuck fuck i love magnus' relationship with Freddie Mercury and Queen so much you dont understand, i have already made some posts and i still plan on making a playlist of Queen Songs That Remind Me Of Magnus but anyway hell yeah let's DO this

okay so first im gonna talk a little bit about how i view their relationship. now, they probably weren't in a very serious relationship, since theres this whole Magnus Locked His Heart Ever Since Camille thing, but Magnus and Freddie have SO much in common i cant really think this was just a fling, either. so here's what i think: magnus and freddie were good friends who sometimes hooked up and that definitely had chemistry to have something special, but it never happened because Magnus never fully allowed himself to give in to it and neither did Freddie - im assuming their relationship was in the 70s, since in the 80s Freddie met his husband, Jim Hutton, and at that time Freddie also had a hard time trusting and loving. also, Magnus was already in New York, so it couldn't have been too serious. but Magnus would go around to watch their concerts and every time he would find Freddie somehow (it wasnt that hard, really, you just had to go to the local queer scene) and they would sometimes hook up, sometimes just talk and enjoy each other's company, sometimes both. that's what i think it's most likely.

but the absolutely OFF THE CHARTS amount of vibing they must have done. i dont think you fully understand - unless you're a queenie trash bitch such as me - just how similar magnus and freddie are. here's a short, comprehensive list of Freddie Mercury Traits:

Freddie was seen and stereotyped as an overly sexual, lothario, diva and inconsequential kind of guy, and to some extent he put on this facade, but in reality he was extremely closed off and insecure and loving, and this was mostly a persona he put on to protect himself

Despite that whole persona, Freddie was an extremely compassionate guy who did everything he could to help others, particularly other queer people. His personal assistant, his chef, his chaffeur, all were other queer guys (sometimes his exes even) that had nowhere else to go and were in need of a job, and Freddie was just like "oh, would you look at that, you're hired now. I'm gonna pay you, hm, 3 million" it was so. When Jim lost his job Freddie hired him as a gardener. They literally met because they were talking in a club and Freddie was all like "lets all go to my house" and brought in a bunch of strangers to his home. That's the kind of guy he was. His house was always open as well

Freddie was loyal to a fault and a little bit too trusting, and was stabbed in the back a few times. The most well-known one is P*ul, who outed him against his will despite them having years of friendship, a blow that Freddie never fully recovered from, but there were others. Despite being a shy guy and reluctant to open up, he actually wore his heart on his sleeve and this sometimes ended up hurting him, a lot

Freddie felt absolutely lonely and like he was unworthy of being loved. This is not a secret, its a common theme in a lot of his songs, the most prominent of them being somebody to love. He wanted to be loved and taken care of but at the same time wouldnt allow himself

He was also very insecure. Jim says in his book that Freddie would frequently ask him, out of the blue, if he loved him, despite the fact that they were, you know, married (not in the paper, of course, but Jim bought him wedding rings and Freddie called him his husband, so i consider them married)

He was constantly scared of being an inconvenience. When he found out he had AIDS, his first instinct was to tell Jim that if jim wanted to leave him he would understand. Jim, of course, said that was bullshit and he wouldnt leave Freddie because of that

He was a perfectionist and always wanted to do his absolute best, nothing less. He was also a creative genius as we all know

He loved cats and would bring random cats into his home constantly

He loved fashion and pretty things

He was a queer, gnc man of color

He had a pretty protective side to him; queen's bassist, John Deacon, was extremely shy and said that Freddie pretty much shielded him from the press attention, and also helped him polish his song writing skills and always wanted him to do his best. After Freddie died, John quit the showbusiness.

I mean, remind you of someone? Holy fucking shit, i nearly lost my goddamn mind when they mentioned that he hooked up with Freddie, because they're so similar in their issues and insecurities and interests it's almost meta. I don't know if that was on purpose or not, but i thank the sh writers every day for that line tbh honestly i am so blessed

Unfortunately i think they might kind of be too similar - you get two very insecure, afraid to be hurt people who kind of have a persona together and it's kind of hard to have them have a meaningful relationship. But where Freddie was shy, Magnus was extroverted and easygoing, and there were always parties (something the both of them loved) and they had enough common interests to bond over. Also, they both couldnt help but wear their heart on their sleeves, even when they tried not to. And i mean, i am 100% sure that Magnus absolutely loved Queen, because 1- who doesnt? 2- the songs are so intense and heartfelt and beautiful and theatrical and that's right on magnus' alley; 3- the lyrics just speak to him, because there Freddie was, writing about wanting to be loved and fearing to open himself up, and there was also Brian writing all these songs about seeing your loved ones die, and Roger was a domestic abuse victim - there was just so much for him to relate too. So i can definitely see Freddie and Magnus staying up awake late at night, looking at the window and talking about themselves, their fears, the personas they have created and how hard it is to break out of them, when they were alone in a hotel room and everyone else who was at the party was gone. Just the two of them, having heart-to-hearts, then sleeping, but the next day the magic was gone and they were both back to guarding themselves - also, Magnus was avoiding getting involved with mundane men, if you go by my headcanon. so there was just too much holding them back

but it was still an important relationship that helped the both of them learn more about themselves and get a little more used to opening up and allowing themselves to talk about themselves. they didnt really break up as much as drift apart - Freddie had the band and Magnus was high warlock of Brooklyn and the political tensions in the downworlder community were high. But they both got their happy endings after all - Freddie met Jim and they were together until the end of his life, and Magnus met Alec, who will be with him for the rest of eternity too because i said so :) so its all good, in the end, and Freddie will always have a special place in magnus' heart, as both an amazing human being that he was honoured to meet and someone who was really, really important to magnus and that helped him become who he is today and be a little happier and more comfortable with himself

he still loves queen and listens to them constantly. sometimes its bittersweet to think about him, but most times its just good to hear these songs that mean so much to him and think of how far theyve both gone

#sh #shadowhunters #magnus bane #magnus bane meta #magnus meta #sh meta #meta #ask #anonymous #overflowing trashcan #not gonna tag as queen cuz this aint gonna be very interesting to queen fans djdjfjd

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l0nleywriter · 5 years

Text

Zen x reader Burn

So I've been working on this for a while.. my first attempt at both song fic and Zen so would really appreciate some feedback. I had just finished the Zen route and was in a Hamilton binge at the same time so decided to write a little something combining the two. I hope you enjoy reading if you choose to and once again would love some feedback! Have a nice day 💕

~~~~~~~

I saved every letter you wrote me

From the moment I read them

I knew you were mine

You said you were mine

I thought you were mine

As a pair of actors the two of you had had a lot in common so you had really hit it off. At the time you were honestly so happy that your childhood friend MC reached out to you with an invite to the RFA party. Despite the sheer amount of guests there Zen had spent a good majority of the party just talking with you. You started by discussing different parts that you had had and then went on to just about anything and everything. It really did feel like you were talking to someone you had known your whole life.

After the party was over, you had decided to give him your number and the two of you talked like you were running out of time. You would often reread the messages from previous nights and recall everything said. This whole thing seemed too good to be true, like it would last forever, like you were meant to be.

Do you know what Angelica said

When we saw your first letter arrive?

She said

“Be careful with that one, love

He will do what it takes to survive.”

You were still so excited to talk more with the amazing Zen after how the event had gone. That may be why you had practically screamed with joy to your dear friend MC when the first text came through. Although they was happy for you to be out doing something with your life but they were sure to warn you about his relationship status and previous conversations shared through the chatroom concerning his love life as well as his behaviour in general. You told her you would be careful and went back to texting.

You and your words flooded my senses

Your sentences left me defenseless

You built me palaces out of paragraphs

You built cathedrals

The conversations the two of you shared seemed to be endless, melding together for you in a rosy haze. At night before sleeping you caught yourself fixated on this new found relationship and enthusiastically mentally planning out how you would spend time together in the future. He had you swooning over his witty word play and constant flirtation, hooked onto every line of text. When he would call you, the sound of his voice had you melting into a pile of goo and you could barely contain your flustered state whenever you met up for a coffee or other date-like activities. His little pet names for you as the relationship went on never failed to make you fall apart. Truly you believed that you would never find something like this again.

The initial craze when it was revealed that the famous actor Zen was going out with the legendary (y/n) (l/n) was somewhat overwhelming. The picture you had first posted together was filled with comments of ship names and questions quicker than you thought to be possible. Of course there was hate comments from Zens fangirls but his smooth words kept you from freaking out. Within interviews discussing your new part in a production just coming to the country it was a huge topic to be discussed. At that time you were happy to go out of your way to show just how much you loved this man Hyun Ryu.

I’m re-reading the letters you wrote me

I’m searching and scanning for answers

In every line

For some kind of sign

And when you were mine

The world seemed to

Burn

It was when you weren't looking at these extensive conversations through rose coloured lenses that you had seen how much of a narrasistic jerk he was. A lot of what he had said, that previously made your heart flutter, had very clearly been him bragging about himself. His poetic compliments had found a way of boosting his own self image and often conversations had shifted back to his own godlike appearance. And here you were, swiping through your phone aggressively while scoffing down your third tub of ice cream at three am rereading the messages through tear filled eyes.

You published the letters she wrote you

You told the whole world how you brought

This girl into our bed

In clearing your name, you have ruined our lives

The second craze was double the size of the first and almost unbearable. The surge in questions and comments about the situation had been suffocating to you. Not only did you now have to deal with the overwhelming attention but the heartbreak of seeing the messages that started this for yourself. To protect himself, Hyun had posted the texts between him and the famous Echo Girl after she went public about their relationship. It showed how he and her had been together while you were away with family, it hurt to know that he had been doing so wrong while texting you as if everything was alright.

It seemed that everywhere you went there was the media trying to get your input or fangirls screeching every which way with each other. No matter what you did it was always there to remind you of how the man you had loved betrayed your trust. So you chose to disappear for a while. You were away from work already and logged off social media.

Do you know what Angelica said

When she read what you’d done?

She said

“You have married an Icarus

He has flown too close to the sun.”

It was a few days into your detox that a tired and frantic looking MC appeared at your door. She was a great help to you that night when she listened to your frustrated ranting about the jerk you had dedicated so much time to. While they did offer support, they also had an obligatory 'I told you so moment' which you followed with sobbing some more and apologising for not appreciating their words earlier. Over various portions of night-in food you were updated on his defences to the organisation and how disgusted various members were with his actions; they had met you at the party and were quite fond of you. In reflection that night really helped you see how glad you were to be free of him.

You and your words, obsessed with your legacy...

Your sentences border on senseless

And you are paranoid in every paragraph

How they perceive you

You, you, you…

It had seemed to have been some time before you reemerged to the world. That week gave many a gossip site chance to theorise on reactions and circumstance. It seemed that the world was anticipating any move you were about to make but you decided to hold back and release a proper statement in your own time. So between recapping lines and ignoring your phone things were going good.

I’m erasing myself from the narrative

Let future historians wonder how Eliza reacted when you broke her heart

You have torn it all apart

I am watching it

Burn

Watching it burn

When you were next seen in public it was to attend rehearsals and odds and ends. Thanks to the help of friends and family you were able to shield off press advances, keeping your head low or wearing a cap and shades to hide your face. There was no way that you wanted to give either one of them the satisfaction of seeing they had got you down.

Online there were still gossip about how you were reacting to the heartbreak. Of course Hyun had covered his tail with declarations of how he was wrong and he still loved you. His profile picture was a picture of the two of you on your last date and he was posting about how much he wanted to talk. While Echo Girl defended herself in interview saying she loved her Zen. What really was happy to you when being updated on it all by MC was how many people lept to your defence sharing hashtags and commenting below negative comments how this wasnt your fault.

The world has no right to my heart

The world has no place in our bed

They don’t get to know what I said

I’m burning the memories

Burning the letters that might have redeemed you

In time a post graced timelines that swept across the internet quickly. It was satisfying to attempt to smooth out some things happening at this point in your life. In simple text was how you realised this had happened and where you had been. It confirmed that you were still performing in a highly anticipated production and had been attending rehersals already.

You forfeit all rights to my heart

You forfeit the place in our bed

You sleep in your office instead

With only the memories

Of when you were mine

Before the opening night preformance you were sitting in your dressing room re reading the messages once again. You knew you might see him here, it would be the one place he knows you'll be and cant avoid. You had heard he had been trying to see you from MC. That was more nerve wracking to you then the rest of the audience! Just breathe. Look around, look around, think of everything you've gone through to get here.

When the first few notes of the first song rang out across the theatre Zen held his breath. He knew that he maybe should have not have come but it was the only place he knew you would be. After the show he knew you would be there to talk about everything. In his head this was a perfect plan.

I hope that you burn

But as the last note rang out across the theatre and your piercing gaze locked directly with his eyes. It was a moment before the applause built up around Hyun the theatre alight with a bittersweet joy from your performance. Zen himself was frozen stiff still trying to process everything. Your figure disappeared behind the wings and from his life and he was helpless to stop it.

#zen #mystic messenger #mystic messenger zen #zen x reader #Hamilton #burn #song fic #fanfic #hyun ryu #mm

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lizzieraindrops · 5 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Far Meridian (Podcast) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peri/Ruth Characters: Hesperia | Peri, Ruth Additional Tags: Wingfic, Wings, Alternate Universe - Wings, Wing Grooming, Pining, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Stargazing, Pre-Canon, they're still in high school, it's really gay, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Best Friends, Friends to Lovers, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Femslash, Pre-Femslash

I decided that angsty wingfic for The Far Meridian was a necessity.

Just a memory of a soft evening atop a lighthouse, filled with unspoken words and un-nameable longing. Girls preening the wings of close friends is totally normal - unless you're pining sapphics suffering internalized homophobia. A continuation of the sunset scene in Ep. 1.10 Whitecaps. I promise it does end soft.

Peri has the wings of a hermit thrush – an elusive migratory songbird that travels at night, rarely visits feeders, and is widely regarded as having one of the most beautiful, ethereal songs. Ruth has the wings of a northern spotted owl – a nocturnal bird with little white spots like stars on dark brown wings, and big brown eyes.

Title from the song of the same name by The Spring Standards, also featured on this Peri/Ruth playlist.

Say it Say the words I see behind your eyes If it’s not hard to say, then it’s a lie

___________

With the brilliant colors of the sunset, the brine seasoning the seaside air, and the sound of the sweetest voice in the world singing where only she can hear, this might be Peri’s idea of bliss. The soft vibrations of unexpected music twines about the two of them in the air atop the lighthouse, much like the winding breeze that breathes through Peri’s feathers. The wind tugs lightly at them like an invitation to sky. That pull revives the muscle memory of flight going back for generations, running all the way down the vanes to stir their roots. But the song reaches even deeper into her, somewhere in the region where her wings themselves are rooted.

It’s a perfect moment, even if something about it aches indescribably. But it’s alright; it’s a familiar nameless ache, one that swells or softens but never completely fades. Maybe it’s more noticeable right now because Peri doesn’t know when she’ll get another moment like this. So, she tries to make the most of it. She keeps her eyes on the sky and drinks in the air and the light and the sound, trying to sink into the sweetness and save the bitterness for later. It works until it doesn’t.

“You could always… go,” Ruth says, but the way her voice trails tells Peri she already knows her answer. “Next semester. It’d be way easier if we could cheer each other on.”

Peri folds her wings in a little tighter, so the wind’s fingers slide off of them. She doesn’t look at Ruth. “I’ve got my online courses…”

“You know that’s not the same.”

Peri leans forward into the railing of the balcony around the light room as she sighs. She’d hoped Ruth wouldn’t make her say it. “Trust me, if I were a turtle with my home on my back… I’d be there in half a heartbeat.”

“C’mon,” Ruth says, stirring the air with a playful stroke of her forewings. The tips of her soft primaries barely brush Peri’s arm. “In the grand cosmic scheme of things, the whole Earth is your home, zooming through space at sixty-seven thousand miles per hour!”

“Sounds more like a racecar than a home!” Peri protests, but she feels a smile seeking its way to her lips.

“You are – impossible!” Ruth exclaims.

Laughter escapes both of them then. It makes the brief tension recede like one wave folding under the next, returning them to bittersweet contemplation of the kaleidoscope sky.

Peri gives a little shrug of her wings and settles them to lay more comfortably against her back. A few of the tertial feathers at the base catch on the cotton of her shirt. She lifts her left wing a little and reaches her right arm around to smooth them back into place. Once it’s fixed and re-folded, she shifts to carefully lean her elbow against Ruth’s on the railing. She does it oh so slowly, so casually that Ruth can move away if she wishes, and Peri will have done nothing but adjusted the way her weight rests against the rail. Her arms practically ache with affected ease, ready to pull back, oh sorry, didn’t mean to bump you, if Ruth pulls away.

Ruth doesn’t pull away. The wind softens into something that barely dances over Peri’s skin. In the resulting quiet, she can hear Ruth breathing. Peri listens.

“I’m really gonna miss you,” Ruth says in a soft voice.

Peri watches the golds and oranges of the sunset deepen toward pink. The clouds holding that brilliant light slide along the horizon like sails before swifter, higher winds than the ones that reach the lighthouse. Words fill her throat, but she doesn’t know what any of them are, much less how to say them. “Yeah,” she finally says. “Me, too.”

The two of them stand together in silence. Ruth heaves a slow sigh. That ineffable ache still lingers, as it always does for Peri: quietly, and constantly. But usually, it’s not this much. Right now, Peri can physically feel it like a sore muscle, somewhere deep in her chest in the same place where the music goes. On the surface far above it, the skin of her wing twitches in irritation. Some of the smaller covert feathers above the corrected tertials still feel askew. She cants the wing upward again, reaching. Her fingers stretch toward the mosquito-bite itch, but it’s right on the back of her wing where it’s hardest to reach.

Peri lets out a frustrated sound. She briskly fluffs her feathers up and then down again, hoping it will sort out the stuck ones without her having to practically stretch her shoulder out of socket. It doesn’t. This probably wouldn’t be as difficult if she didn’t carry so much tension in her arm- and wing-shoulders. The stiffness of it constricts her natural range of movement just a little, just enough to keep those furthest preening spots out of reach and to leave her neck and upper back perpetually tight and sore. Then again, a whole lot of things in her life probably wouldn’t be as difficult without the anxiety causing that tension in the first place.

Peri braces her hands on the rail. She stretches her rounded wings directly backward to brush their tips against the glass walls of the light room, then folds them down again, to no avail. She huffs in annoyance.

“Hey, you okay?” Ruth asks, giving her a sideways look with one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, just – nghh.” Peri shrugs her wings again, then tucks them down and holds resolutely still. She’s not going to break the spell of this perfect sunset, not going to walk away from this one of the precious few moments she has left just to go downstairs for a back scratcher. “I’ve just got a feather out of sorts right in the back. It’s fine though.”

“Oh.”

Peri tries to keep her attention on the pink-and-gold clouds, and not on the itch at her back or the light press of the arm leaning against hers. It doesn’t work very well, because she finds some of those words in her throat taking shape and slipping half a question past her teeth before she knows what they are.

“Could you – ?”

At the same time, Ruth blurts, “Do you want me to – ?”

They both break off to stare right at each other. Ruth raises her wings just slightly in a hesitant gesture. Peri quickly looks away again.

“Um,” Peri says, hoping the warm glow of the sunset hides her blush. She pulls her wings in scrunched close to her shoulders in embarrassment. She feels the offending feathers stick up along with several dozen neighbors, crinkled up along the folds of skin.

“Sorry, I – uh,” Ruth says. “I meant – I can fix it, if you want. Or not! It’s totally cool, if that’s weird –”

“No! No, it’s not weird!” Peri says hurriedly. It wouldn’t be. It’s Ruth.

But if it were, that’s why it would be: because it’s Ruth.

Peri had Ace or her mom or dad help her with preening often enough, especially in those hard-to-reach spots. It was a thing lots of people did with close friends and family. Ruth practically was family – she ate dinner at the lighthouse half the time, anyway. It wouldn’t be unusual for Ruth to preen her. Peri had seen plenty of girls at school casually combing through each other’s feathers at the end of lunch hour. That was always a little golden window of free time that the two of them spent together, where nothing consequential ever really happened. Now, though, it occurs to Peri that those casual interstices were home to a disproportionate number of oddly precious memories. They rise up clamoring inside her, as if desperate to not become part of a closed chapter.

There was the time they found a crying thrush trapped in an unused locker down by Mr. Santos’ office, and Peri opened it and got a face full of feathers so much like her own. The two of them chased it down the hallway toward the door Ruth held open for it, and the bird flew out into the sky with a call of joy that they both echoed. Then, there was Heidi’s birthday sophomore year when her grandmother sent her to school with a ton of donuts, except half of them got repurposed for a miniature food fight. Somehow, it was exhilarating instead of terrifying. Peri landed a surprisingly accurate powdered donut on Ruth’s head in a puff of white sugar that clung to her hair all day. She quickly experienced retribution in the form of Ruth seizing her and dusting her all over with a cinnamon twist while laughing and leaving sugary handprints all down her sleeves. And then, there was that time the two of them wandered the perimeter of the soccer field at the edge of school and sat together in the grass awhile, chatting and staring at the trees beyond, and nothing interesting happened at all. They were simply together. Something in the stillness of that moment echoed the bliss of this quiet, sunset-glazed evening that she was living today.

Except for the current awkwardness, today had been blissful - besides the unnamed ache, of course, but that was always there. But perhaps Peri and her escaped words shouldn’t have brought up the idea of preening. For some reason, it was something that had never been a part of any of those remembered moments. It just wasn’t something the two of them did. Peri had never questioned it, never wanted to cross an unacknowledged line. Sure, she had wondered in idle moments what it might feel like to run a hand through the softness of Ruth’s dark velvet-edged owl-feathers, to trace the little white spots that speckled them like stars across a night sky. But someone’s wings were so personal, so strong and yet so vulnerable, that she would never presume to ask, not even her best friend. Especially her best friend.

But now, the wings concerned aren’t Ruth’s, but her own. Although she never even considered the possibility before, she knows she would trust Ruth with anything and everything, including this. Including her. And Ruth herself had offered. Minutes ago, the concept of Ruth’s hands on her wings hadn’t existed. But suddenly, intensely, Peri wants. She wants this before Ruth takes the option far away with her when she leaves. The deep ache inside her twists sharply in a strange way she doesn’t know how to understand.

Ruth is still staring at her, twisting her hands together. Peri flushes again, but just says, in a voice that catches on that ache and breaks into a whisper: “Would you?”

Ruth’s face blooms with hope. Being the reason for that expression makes Peri feel like the sun itself. Ruth begins to reach toward Peri’s wing, but checks herself one more time, retracting her hands as if from a fire too warm, too close.

“You’re sure it’s not weird?” Ruth says, brows crinkling in uncertainty.

“It’s not weird,” Peri says again. Thankfully, her voice doesn’t break this time. “Well, I mean, you’re weird, so by default everything involving you is weird, but other than that –”

“Hey!” Ruth puts one hand on her hip. “Rude! You’re one to talk.”

For the second time that evening, they both dissolve into giggles. The beam from the lighthouse’s light swings over them, illuminating their faces with a glimpse of brilliance.

“Okay but no, really,” Peri says after she’s caught her breath. “That spot’s really really bugging me, can you get it?”

“Yeah yeah! Come here,” Ruth says. As naturally as if they’ve done this a thousand times, she reaches out toward her once again and twirls a finger in the air to ask Peri to turn around.

Peri turns and stretches out her left wing, resting her opposite hand on the glass walls of the light room. “It’s right down at the base there, do you see it?”

“Oh yeah, hon, you’re all kinds of ruffled up here.”

For a moment, Peri doesn’t feel anything but the breeze. But just as she’s worrying that Ruth has decided this is too weird after all, careful fingers sink into the mat of soft brown coverts at her shoulder. Very gently at first, and then with deliberate firmness, she starts combing them back into place.

“Yeah, the one that’s really the problem is just belo– ahh!” Peri shivers as Ruth untangles the feather’s barbs from its neighbors and flattens it between her fingers to zip them back into alignment. Then she rubs the pad of her thumb against the feather’s base where it meets the skin, erasing the twinge of irritation with comforting pressure. Peri’s wing involuntarily sags to the ground in relief, yet again crinkling up all the feathers where her wing meets her back into disarray.

Ruth just laughs. “Starshine, you’re gonna undo all my work if you do that. Here, why don’t you sit down.”

“Oh - okay.”

Peri settles herself cross-legged at the end of the balcony. She rests her arms on the lower rail and fully stretches out both wings, resting them on the ground at a more relaxed angle. Ruth sits down behind her, and with a deep breath sets to fixing her feathers again.

If this evening was blissful before, now it’s approaching something more like wonder. It’s hard to believe it’s real. Sitting here watching the bright clouds fade while Ruth cards deft fingers through her feathers, making the skin underneath tingle with pleasure... it’s a whole new kind of exquisite. Maybe the only thing that could make it better would be if Ruth started singing again – and sure enough, Ruth starts humming to herself as she works. Peri’s left wing goes slack, followed by her right as Ruth works her way through the tiny scapulars on her back toward the opposite limb. The corded tightness of those great flight muscles slowly begins to untie itself, chased away by strokes of careful pressure and gentle scratches.

After she finishes the covert feathers at the elbow bend of her wing, Ruth goes quiet and pauses. Peri hums a softest protest in her throat. At the sound, Ruth lays a silent question on the expanse of her ungroomed secondary coverts with a gently placed palm. Peri can’t help but press an answer into her touch.

Ruth chuckles and resumes, soothing sensitive skin and smoothing down all those little rounded feathers. She even massages the underlying wing, wrapping her hands right around the marginal coverts and squeezing her fingers deep into the muscle. How did she get so good at this? If Peri had known earlier....

Ruth continues to hum as she goes, softly enough that she might be just singing to herself. But when she sings Clementine again, the notes trace their way right into Peri’s core, lancing that eternal ache with unbearable sweetness.

This might be both the happiest and saddest Peri has ever felt.

Once Ruth finishes grooming the coverts, front and back, she starts running her fingers along each great flight feather. She hums another song Peri doesn't know, making sure all the feathers' little barbs knit together without gaps.

“Beautiful,” she murmurs in between the notes.

“Huh?” Peri glances at the plain brown wing in Ruth’s hands. “They’re just brown.”

“So are mine!”

Peri rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yours are dark and gorgeous and you’ve got all those little white spots that look like constellations. Mine are all the same and just kind of dusty-looking.”

“What! No they’re not. They’re such a warm color. They’ve got this gradient...” Ruth supports the back of one of Peri’s long primaries with one hand while reaching over the top of the wing to trace the raised rachis on the feather’s underside with her fingers. “They’re kind of pale golden at the base, and then they turn more sort of, I dunno. Like hot cocoa. And look! You’ve got this adorable little stripe of dark tips on your primary coverts. And your alula.” Ruth tweaks the three little ‘thumb’ feathers at the top of her wing.

“Oh.” Peri blinks. “I mean, I guess.”

“They’re right here! There’s no need to guess. You’re adorable, and that’s that.”

Peri rolls her eyes with an exasperated sigh and a smile.

Ruth goes back to fixing up her long remiges. Peri’s wings sink ever closer to the floor, limp with relaxed pleasure. Finally, after what could be either hours or mere minutes, Ruth runs her hands down the length of them and stops.

“There,” Ruth whispers into the evening air, so soft she can hardly hear it. “How’s that?”

In answer, Peri stretches both her arms and wings out to their fullest extent with languorous ease. On impulse, she falls back into Ruth’s chest with an enormous sigh, wings still splayed. The soft whoof of air Ruth lets out makes her hair flutter by her ear.

“Good,” Peri says.

“Good.” Ruth’s voice is oddly high.

Ruth’s chest rises and falls against her back and wing-shoulders, and Peri finds that they’re breathing in rhythm. It’s lovely.

Ruth shifts her arms like she’s not sure what to do with them, with Peri practically in her lap. Apparently, she settles on stretching them out to lay along the margins of Peri’s prone wings. It increases the points of contact between them, and Peri certainly isn’t going to complain. They both hold still, simply breathing, Ruth’s breath brushing against her cheek.

She’s going to miss Ruth so much. The reality of her leaving has been circling closer for days, weeks, maybe even years, but now the fact has finally come home to roost in Peri’s ribcage.

Peri’s body is far more relaxed than usual. But the softness draws an unbearably sharp contrast with this hurting in her chest – – her heart fucking aches.

A shudder of pain that has nothing to do with Peri’s muscles runs through her, making her breath stutter.

“Whoa – Peri, what’s wrong?”

Peri squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head sharply. Don’t, please don’t, don’t ruin this, she tells herself.

“Peri,” Ruth says more urgently. Her voice is soft, but it goes low and resonant, like she’s trying to throw it across a canyon. Her hands cup Peri’s wings, holding her as they curl inward with pain.

Peri opens her mouth, desperately trying to cough up all the unspoken things trapped in her throat, but she has no idea how to make them turn into words that she can say.

Water wells in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she says in a broken whisper, and turns her face into Ruth’s neck to hide them.

Ruth stiffens as she leans in, but just as quickly goes soft and curls around her. Her cheek rests against Peri’s head while her arms slide past the curtain of her feathers and wrap around her waist to hug her closer.

“Oh honey,” she breathes, “For what? You don’t need to be. It’s okay.”

Peri’s shuddering breaths shake them both a few times before subsiding under the comforting pressure of Ruth’s arms.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Ruth whispers into her hair. The evening breeze twists around them, throwing one of Ruth’s stray locks into Peri’s eyes.

Peri shakes her head again, softer this time. She can’t. She wants to. But when she tries to say any or all of the unknown things she desperately needs to, the only sound her throat wants to make is a cry just like that thrush when it was trapped in the locker.

“Did I do something?” Ruth’s voice goes thin with uncertainty. “Was this too much?” Her arms begin to loosen unforgivably.

“No!” She lays her own arms over Ruth’s to keep them from pulling away. Right now, they’re the only thing keeping the ache inside her from growing so large it consumes her. “You’re fine.” You’re perfect. You’re wonderful. You’re everything. Please don’t go, she doesn’t say. She has no right to be saying such excessive things. “Please, just... stay here awhile?”

Ruth tightens her hold around Peri again. “Of course. I’m here, starshine.”

For now, she thinks with a pang, but she turns away from the thought. No matter what happens next, nothing can change the fact that Ruth has soothed her wings and called them beautiful and held Peri close in her arms. That’s real now, and nothing can ever take that away from her. That’s something she wouldn’t give up even to avoid all this hurt. She lays a hand over one of the darker ones splayed across her ribs, and Ruth tangles their fingers together. The gesture makes Peri melt back into her embrace. It acquires even more layers when Ruth brings her wings around parallel to Peri’s own to shelter her from the stiffening breeze.

Although being so close is what made her aching flare up so terribly into this storm of unutterable words and nameless longing, drawing even closer like this gently ushers Peri into something of a storm’s eye. Here, body to body and wing to wing, the aching releases its grip on her, and she finally goes completely soft. She knows it’s still there, rooted deep within her. But for perhaps the first time since it sprouted unnoticed in her heart an unknown number of years ago and began trellising itself all through her chest and shoulders, it doesn’t hurt. It just holds her, steadies her, the same way Ruth is holding her.

The breeze grows cooler and the surf grows fainter as the tide goes out. The pink clouds have long since taken a turn toward purple, and are now fading into dusky violet in an inky-blue evening sky.

Eventually, Ruth stirs without letting go of her. “Hey, Peri, look.” She points out west toward where the sun’s setting leaves a pale halo on the horizon. In between the smoky clouds, there’s a bright pinprick of light.

“It’s you,” Ruth says. “The evening star. Hesperos, the Greeks called it. And Phosphoros, the morning star – back then they didn’t know it was the same thing. It’s Venus, really. But I guess we’ve never really forgotten what it meant to us, in the beginning, when we started looking at the sky. And we’ve carried the story of it with us ever since.”

“Mmhmm.” Peri’s heard this story many times before. But she could spend all night listening to the way Ruth’s voice goes soft and full of awe when she talks about the stars.

They both gasp as a broad streak of blue-white brilliance arcs right past the gleaming planet and vanishes behind a trailing cloud.

“Oh, that’s a fireball!” Ruth exclaims, holding on to her tight. “I’ve never seen one that bright. Blue usually means high magnesium content – quick, make a wish, girl!” She gives Peri an extra squeeze.

“What, because it has high magnesium content?” Peri asks, baffled.

“No, dummy, because it’s a shooting star! Quick now.”

Peri looks out to the horizon where the ‘star’ fell, blinking at the afterimages of its descent. The only wish she can possibly make right now is the one that she doesn’t have words for. Her chest and throat go tight and sharp as she tries once more to force the yearning inside her to name itself, even if only in her mind. But it’s like trying to pick unripe fruit that clings tenaciously to the vine. It’s just not ready. Maybe she herself just isn’t ready.

Then again, maybe wishes don’t need to be trapped in words. That planet glinting on the horizon has meant enough to people to be given many words – names – of its own, but it’s still the same thing it always was. Perceptions must have shifted over time, and yet Hesperia’s own name is a lingering echo of what a light in the sky meant to humans who lived centuries ago. The nature of things matters, but so does the way people feel about them.

Peri stops fighting the thing inside her, and it immediately releases her into the softness of Ruth’s arms again. Okay. Squeezing her eyes shut, she holds the memory of that shooting star close to her heart. She pulls that spark of light into the soft eye of the storm with her, thinking deliberately: this. And then, because her human mind clings to the language it knows, gives it the only vague words that she has.

I hope this works out.

She heaves a great sigh as she sets the wish free and leans into Ruth even more.

“Starshine?” Ruth.

“Yeah?”

“You make a wish?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Don’t tell me.” Ruth pulls her in closer, until Peri’s nestled into her chest close enough to feel another heartbeat.

They’re quiet. The sky has finally darkened enough that the lighthouse’s swinging beam has become a solid thing in the dimness.

“Did you?” Peri asks.

“Did I what?”

“Make a wish.”

“Yeah.”

“Can we do that? Both make wishes on the same star?”

“I dunno. Maybe if we wish for the same thing? Guess we won’t find out unless it comes true.”

“Well, you’re the star expert. I believe you.”

“Not yet, I’m not.”

“You will be. I know you.”

Ruth only hums in response. Peri feels the vibration of the sound against her back and wings. A chill runs across her skin, making her feathers stand up briefly.

“You alright?” Ruth asks, running a gentle hand along her feathers once more.

“Mmmm.”

The stars are starting to fill all the gaps between the clouds now.

“Do you wanna go back in?” Ruth asks.

“Mm,” Peri says again. “Not yet. Can we stay just a little longer?”

“Yeah. I’d like that. Although my leg is kinda asleep.”

“Oh, gosh, I'm right on it, I’m sorry.”

“Ah, don’t worry. Maybe let’s move back so I can lean on the light, though?” Peri nods.

Ruth lets go of her and scoots the few feet back to the light at the center of the circular balcony. Peri’s heartache whines a little at the temporary loss, but she soothes it with a wordless whisper. She clambers after Ruth and leans against the light next to her, the intermittent brilliance shining through their feathers. She leans into the wing that Ruth spreads for her and the arm that Ruth wraps around her shoulders. She curls an arm around Ruth’s waist, weaving it under her beautiful barred and spotted feathers. The slow, regular creak of the light turning hums behind and below them. Its familiar gleam and grumble insulates them from the rest of the world. They’re cupped in their own little universe of light and sound, nothing but the sky and the sea and the shining.

The weight of Ruth’s head against her shoulder takes Peri by surprise. She hardly dares to glance at it, afraid she might move, but she dares just enough to allow herself a glimpse of Ruth’s dark hair only inches away. It’s really there. She’s really there.

Peri leans her head against Ruth’s, and her chest is a garden thinking of flowers. The two of them share a sigh and watch the stars and the swinging light in the darkness.

#the far meridian #hesperia #whisperforge #peri/ruth #lizzie taking up space #peruth #fanfic #femslash #crop circles #til the sun sets in verona #long post #podcasts

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foxrun-fluffery · 5 years

Text

The Greatest Distance

Summary: Thorin’s company is displaced in time by Gandalf, due to an emergency. They land in front of country girl Piper and her son. After recognizing them, mostly, she realizes that in no way can they be left on their own in this modern world, and now she has to cope with some of the strangest house guests ever!

Tag List: @sdavid09, @fallnangelcreations @sherala007 (I tried)

CHAPTER FOUR

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Dinner and a deconstruction

By the time the meat was cooked, and the potatoes mashed, Piper realized she had lost track of the dwarves milling about her property. Riordan and the three youngest were still out in the yard, having fun. Riordan had gotten Fili, Kili, and Ori into a game of tag. Through some careful chit chat with Bombur and Bilbo, she had discovered that the company had not yet encountered the trolls, but had dealt with the rain she recalled Dori referring to as a ‘deluge’ and the wizard telling Bilbo about the other four wizards. She realized the poor hobbit had little time to endear himself to the dwarves yet, aside from filling their stomachs on that first meeting. They hadn’t yet met the brown wizard, nor the elves. As she could recall, Thorin’s attitude did shift after Rivendell or Imladris, she did like the elvish name for it, but imagined the dwarves would not. Not that she would mention it, thinking it only as a passing thought.

Seeing a figure pass by the doorway, she leaned out, “Oh, Gloin! Could you please let everyone know dinner is about ready?” That certainly seemed to get him perked up and trotting quickly out the door. “Bofur, could you give me a hand with the table?” “Aye, settin’ it then?” He asked, getting up from where he had sprawled on her overly plush sofa. It was comfortable, and he was regretting that Thorin had already staked it out as his bed for their stay. While Piper had guest rooms, she said they would have to wait until she emptied the stuff she had stored in them out. For tonight the floor would do. He hurried to her side, smiling brightly up at her. Some part of his brain had always regretted the height of human females, but this time he found he didn’t mind it at all. No, even her strangely short and brightly colored hair wasn’t at all disconcerting. It fascinated him, like a cut gemstone.

“Nope, gotta put the leaf in, otherwise we’ll never fit everyone in here.” Piper quickly guided him through adding the extra sections to the table, and was rather amused by his curiosity about the extended table. She grinned as he crawled under it to inspect the mechanism, and how he watched as all of the pieces fit together. In all likelihood she had just changed the way tables were made in Middle Earth from now on. Then she went to get the dishes out, humming a little tune as she did.

“Ah, do ye sing, lass?” Bofur asked curiously, having finished his examination of her dining table, he had appeared at her side.

Piper jumped slightly, realizing she was quickly adapting to the loud steps of the dwarves she hadn’t really taken notice of him coming up on her. “Me? Ehh… not a whole lot. Mostly just lullabies for Rio, though he’s starting to outgrow them. Anymore he only wants me to sing for him when he’s sick.” Her smile was a touch sad, for she felt, as most parents did, that her little boy was growing too quickly. “He’s so independant already.” She sighed, bittersweet.

Bofur reached out to take a stack of plates from her, and he lightly set his hand on her forearm. “He’s a good lad, that boy. Ye have every right t’ be proud o’ him.”

“Growing up with just me to raise him, he’s had to learn a lot, and fast.” Piper’s expression softened under his touch, and she nodded gently. “He’s bright, he likes working with his hands, there’s a whole bunch of old tools in the shop that are his, he’s always tinkering with bits and pieces of things. My grandpa sort of hoarded everything, so Rio’s had a lot to experiment with.”

This made Bofur laugh, grinning brightly. “Aye, he’d make a great dwarf then!”

Smirking, Piper eyed him, “That’s a helluva compliment.” There was a moment, she and he held each other’s gaze. He was admiring her, and she was studying him, wondering what he thought, how she and her boy seemed to the dwarves. “With luck, anything he learns from you guys will be positive.”

“Aye!” Bofur mocked indignance, “How could it no’ be?!”

By then others were drifting in, attracted by the smell of the roasts cooking. Each member of the company was happy to lend a hand in setting the table. Though Piper wasn’t certain she appreciated their method, she wasn’t surprised by it. Claiming herself a spot out of the way, she watched her plates being tossed and flung through the air, along with the silverware. Someone, she thought it was Nori, starting humming a light tune, and soon the others were humming or wordlessly singing along. She realized they were using the beat of the song to keep track of each other’s movements. How ingenious!

Riordan had come in near the end of the table being set, Balin keeping a hand on the boy’s shoulder so he didn’t dash right into the middle of it. Still the boy clapped along and cheered when they were done. “Momma, can we set the table like that all the time?!”

Piper barked a laugh and shook her head, “No way, half-pint, I can’t afford the dishes you’d break!” With a grin, she jumped forward, sweeping the four year old up and onto her hip, tickling his ribs and making him shriek with laughter. “Okay, young man,” she set him back on the ground, hiding a wince from him. He was getting far too big to be carrying about like that. “Go wash up.”

The boy gave his typical groan, but he ran off to the bathroom to do what he was told, a few of the dwarves, and the hobbit, following suit. Some of the older or more stubbornly set in their ways ones stayed and took their seats at the table.

Piper, Bombur, and Bofur all brought trays of food over, while upon his return from washing, Bilbo managed the numerous bottles and containers, in a quick dash back and forth, of things Piper told him were condiments. He’d never seen bottles like that, nor had he heard of a few of the things she set out. Whatever “sour cream” was, though it sounded wholly unappetizing even to a hobbit, she insisted it was set on the table, along with the bacon crumbles she had cooked off, and the diced chives. He also was directed to a big bag of shredded cheese, and a bottle of “ranch dressing” as the woman told him that was the only way Riordan would eat his potatoes. That was a shocker to the little hobbit. Someone who didn’t like potatoes!?

Once they had everything set, with glasses of water, much to the disheartenment of the dwarves, everyone sat down. Thorin sat at Piper’s side, as everyone insisted she had the head of the table. Riordan naturally was at her other side, and the others filed in. Bombur was more than happy to cut the food, after giving her serving utensils a good looking over and an approving nod. Though the dwarves seemed to take their food in a rather raucous fashion, Piper insisted that Riordan use his best manners still.

Bofur, who was sitting on the other side of Riordan, reigned in his jovial eating habits to set a good example for the boy, though he did so in a playful way. Sometimes he would be so polite it was very clearly over the top, and other times he’d challenge the boy to cut his meat in certain sizes and shapes, keeping him from cramming huge mouthfuls in after he saw the look of disapproval from his mother at one particularly giant bite. At the boy’s insistence, he gave the ranch dressing a try on his potatoes and had to agree that it did make them a great deal better. However, he had bargained with the boy that he would try the ranch, if Riordan would eat chives on his potatoes.

Piper smiled, watching the dwarf and her boy, wondering for the hundredth time throughout the last four years, how life would have been different if they’d have a more normal family. But then again, normal wasn’t really their thing. She turned to Thorin, smiling pleasantly. “So, have you got everything figured out for wood cutting? I can always run in and get things we’d need.”

“We?” He mused, arching a brow at her as he chewed his roast.

“Of course! I grew up cutting wood, you don’t think I’d make you do it all yourselves!” Piper scoffed, shaking her head at him with an amused twinkle in her eyes. “I told you, I’d do what I can to help all of you here.”

Canting his head slightly, in a grateful nod, Thorin smiled. “I appreciate that. We will need your guidance to make sure we’re doing the job acceptable to the standards of this world.” He looked to his plate then and then back up, “This is a fine meal, we’re very grateful.”

Piper blushed, “Well, Bombur and Bilbo were both wonderful help getting it prepared.” She turned and found her fellow cooks at the table and smiled at them. “Bilbo is quite good with his seasonings, even I’m impressed, and I usually everyone says I’ve got a good sense for flavors.”

Bilbo’s cheeks, too, pinkened, “It’s nothing really, just some things my mother used to use when I was growing up.” He cast a warm quick look at Riordan. “I’m just happy to pass them on.”

The woman chuckled, “Oh yes, I’ve written down everything you used, I’ll be doing my best to copy it in the future.” She lifted her head a little, hearing amongst the soft and less than soft chatter at the table, someone bemoaning the lack of mead or ale. She noticed that Thorin had heard it too, and she grinned, “You know, if anyone here drank so much at every meal, they’d be written of as an alcoholic. You dwarves must have one hell of a constitution.”

The king cracked a smile, venturing even to laugh. “That we do. It’s probably best your kind do not try to keep up,” He told her with no malice, it was simply fact to him. Men could not drink like a dwarf. “We have a greater appreciation for well crafted ale, is all.”

Piper let the conversation fall for a while, as everyone filled their stomachs. She spoke up after a while, addressing the king once more. “Without risk of offending anyone, can I ask a question about dwarves? There are few details known and a number that are suspected, but we’re not certain.”

“Very well,” Thorin wiped his mouth with his napkin and sat back in his seat, his meal eaten and his stomach filled comfortably. True, all of them could eat a good deal more, but this was enough to satisfy for now. “What do you wish to know?”

“Do dwarvish braids have meaning?”

The king’s brows rose, and he was surprised that details such as that had filtered to this world. “Yes, they do. The braids and the ornamentation on them.” He motioned his own, “Mine display that I am warrior, this,” He indicated a decorated clasp behind his ear, “bears the crest of my house.” He motioned for Fili and Kili and both turned to show their own clasps that looked very much the same. “Had their father been alive, he would have made those for them. In his absence I crafted them myself.”

“And mine,” Gloin piped up then, taking cue from their leader that it was acceptable to speak about it, “Show my standing in the banker’s guild.” He motioned to the evenly spaced braids in his beard.

Dwalin puffed, his shoulders square as he held his head up with pride. “I mark my braid with victories in battle.”

“So you choose what you wear then, or is there a sort of baseline?” Piper had leaned forward, looking at each of them as they spoke, noticing their pride.

“Everyone chooses what they want to represent, what they take pride in, or what means the most to them.” Thorin explained.

Dori grinned, pointing to his youngest brother. “Ori has started his set of braids in the scholars guild.”

The young dwarf in question smiled sheepishly, and tilted his head to show the braids in his own hair and beard. “I’d like to earn a warriors braid too.”

“Oh hush you’re doing quite fine!” Dori admonished, not liking the thought of his brother in danger such as battle.

“I’m sure you’ll do great things, Ori.” Piper smiled reassuringly to him, glad to see his smile grew more confident.

“And this one,” Gloin spoke up again, “Me wife an’ I braided on our wedding day! This she crafted for me!” He showed her a slim braid that was nearly hidden in his bushy hair, and an intricately detailed bead that bound the end. “She has one I made of course.”

“That’s beautiful, Gloin. I can see she really loves you, so much detail!” Piper exclaimed, rising a little to lean across the table and see his bead clearly. She didn’t miss the way his eyes misted. “I’m sure she misses you just as much as you miss her.”

“Aye.” He said, quietly, and he ran his finger over the bead before he tucked it away into his wild hair again. Although he was misty eyed, he had a warm smile on his face, and his brother was watching him fondly, as were a few others. They all appreciated families and the like, even if most dwarves never married.

Nori caught Piper looking towards him next and he pursed his lips, clearly not sharing, yet he gave her a wink.He grinned at her smirk, seeing the determination growing in her eyes.

“I want braids!” Riordan piped up suddenly, looking around at everyone, and smiling when it started an uproarious laugh around the table.

“Maybe, if you had enough hair,” Dwalin chuckled, amused at the boy’s declaration.

The child had a very short cut, that wasn’t even uncommon among dwarven children. As much as they did like their hair, until a child was old enough to help wash, and to keep their hair from getting sticky and messy things tangled into it, short hair was not unseen. It wasn’t until a child was around eight or nine that their parents allowed their hair to grow, by then the little dwarfling was mature enough to take care of it to a degree. Their mothers still tended to the most of the care, in particular the brushing and braiding, but the children could help wash it then.

Riordan pouted, looking around at the dwarves at their table. “How long does it take to grow?” Piper chuckled, “If you wanna grow your hair out, it’ll be a while.” Knowing her boy he’d change his mind four times before it was ever long enough to do anything with. “But remember the last time your hair got long?” Riordan looked down at his plate, nodding quietly. He remembered. Oh did he remember. It had only been a couple of months ago. Thinking about it, he reached up and rubbed the side of his head. “Yeah…”

Piper caught a few curious glances and explained, “He got a sticky candy stuck in his hair when he fell asleep on it. And that’s why we had to cut his hair all off.” She chuckled, seeing her boy still pouting about it. “I think that was a lesson well learned.” Seeing everyone had just about finished up, she rose, startled when a number of them started to rise too. Ah, old fashioned manners. “Settle down boys. I’m just gonna go get us some tea.”

“Momma, can we have a soda?” Riordan asked, sounding as sweet and hopeful as he could.

“What’s soda?” Kili asked, looking from the boy to his mother.

Hearing his question, and the way the others gradually fell silent, Piper knew the dwarves behind her were all waiting for her answer. Quickly she debated a few factors, how much soda she had, and the risks of giving the dwarves caffeine.. .eh, you only live once! “Yeah, kiddo, sure.”

“Root beer floats?”

“Now you’re pushing it.” Piper laughed, shaking her head at her son and going to get the case of soda she had in the walk-in pantry. She distributed cans to the dwarves, setting one the table before each, quietly got their attention with a hand held up, then demonstrated how to pop the top on the cans. The dwarves, to her amusement, followed suit in a split second, and then there was a mixed reaction after that.

Nori, Balin, Gloin, Dwalin, Bifur, Dori, and Oin all stopped to sniff their drink first. Thorin and Bofur were both looking at Piper, though with very different expressions. Bofur seemed almost to forget he had a drink, and Thorin waited to say a polite thank you, before he raised his can to sip. The rest of the dwarves however, instantly went to chug their drinks. Most of them got the wonderful sensation of bubbles up the nose, and they stopped to clap hands over their noses, objecting in either language. And Nori gave a fine belch, but Kili outshadowed him. Riordan, feeling it was, this time, acceptable, followed suit and got a cheer from some of the dwarves for his attempt. But it was, as had happened before, Ori who won the prize. All the while, the quiet hobbit was grimacing at the belches and sipping as politely as he could, though he kept having to stop to rub his nose, looking mildly amused at the tickle.

“Mighty unusual drink, this!” Balin said, sniffling and rubbing his nose. “It’s got bubbles in it like nothing else!” He did seem to be enjoying it though. In fact, not a one of the dwarves had stopped drinking their soda for long.

“There are tons of flavors, but we just have this one right now. It’s very sugary, so we don’t drink it very often.” Piper explained. “Glad you all like it.” Then she rose to start clearing the emptied plates, but found a hand on her wrist. She looked up, surprised, at Thorin.

“Allow us. It’s very kind of you to prepare the meal, and offer your home. The least we can do is help clean up.” Thorin gave the others a pointed look, and soon Piper was privy to a clean up scene not too dissimilar to the one from a certain movie. Though, as when the table had been set, they only hummed a tune, rather than setting to a full song. Bombur, having learned how the sink worked, no longer got to polish off leftovers, but was in charge, with Bifur, of washing plates.

Riordan was sent off to wash up, as he had ranch dressing all over his face. He didn’t return, instead going to his room to play for a while, before his mother stuffed him into pajamas and sent him to bed.

Once dinner was cleaned up, for it was simply a matter of doing the dishes, as there were no leftovers at all, the dwarves settled in, sitting around the den. A few started to pull out pipes and flint, and their tobacco pouches. Only Bofur saw Piper grimace at the sight, though she didn’t actually forbid them. He looked down at his pipe in his hands that he was filling just then. Did the people here not smoke at all? “Uhm… is it… is it alright, lass, if we smoke?”

“Mmm yeah, just not on my white couch, okay? Even the best cleaners don’t get the smell out all the way.” Piper also didn’t want any pipe ash ground into the fabric. “Alright, if you guys are good for now, I should go get some more work done on this project I’ve got going. Should be a nice big payout if I can get it working, but the deadline is coming up.”

Bofur smiled kindly, nodding his head, “Best o’ luck t’ ye, lass.” He watched her as she walked out, his gaze lingering, his pipe forgotten. Until he heard a snickering from the young princes. Then he turned and saw most of the others were looking at him. “Oi! Mind yer own!” He waved them off, trying to hide the way his face heated up. “Pesky nosy lot o’ ya…”

“Oi, Nori! I didn’t get you those fancy sleeves to get them all greased up! How did you even manage that?!” Dori griped, looking at the smudges on Nori’s intricately stitched sleeves. “What did you get into to make that mess?” Nori ducked his head, looking down at his sleeves. Sure enough there was a smear or five of dark grease on them, that could almost be mistaken for orc blood, if it wasn’t for the smell. “Uh, we just looked around… kind of well… come see.” Grabbing his brother’s wrist, he pulled Dori up and out of the room to the front door. Ori, Balin, Fili, Kili, Bifur, Bombur, Oin and Gloin all followed along, either part of the guilty party, or very curious. Nori lead them to the garage beside the house, thinking it was some sort of workshop. There he pointed to some sort of deconstructed contraption. “See? We uh… well we got a little carried away.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously, shuffling his feet from side to side.

“Lad… ye have to put it back t’gether.” Oin grumbled, “It wasn’t yers to take apart!”

Gloin coughed, knowing he had been a part of the trouble. “We didn’t mean to, it just looked… useful.”

Balin sighed, shaking his head, “Of course it was useful, for whatever purpose it had before!” He rolled his eyes, not to unlike what his brother might have done. “Do any of you remember how it all went together?” “I think we lost a couple of parts…” Nori admitted. “Fix this!” Balin insisted sharply. “Before the lass finds out.” He turned and headed back to the house, stroking his beard irritably. “Curious bunch of half-wits,” he mumbled as he walked back in the front door. What were they thinking!? His thoughts must have been obvious, both his brother and their king approached him.

“What have they done?” Thorin asked, his voice low as the three stood, huddled, Dwalin at his shoulder looking stern.

The elder dwarf sighed heavily, “Seems they found some machine in the workshop and have taken it apart, and lost a piece, and it seems they don’t quite know how to put it back together.”

Thorin grimaced, rubbing a hand over his face. “Balin, Dwalin, go supervise them. I’ll… talk to Piper about it.” Huffing, he turned, knowing the two brothers would be just the motivation the rest needed to fix their mess. He descended the basement stairs and followed the short hallway to the room he saw a light in and knocked, then he heard her call to him, so he opened the door. He wasn’t sure what she was doing, she was curled up in a chair, in front of a flat slab that stood upright on a stand, tapping away at a panel of little buttons. “Piper?”

“Mmm just one second okay? Kinda… middle of… numbers….” She typed away furiously, trying to remember the sequence as she entered it. Not realizing she had just asked the heir to the crown of Erebor, the wandering king of the dwarves, to wait for her.

The heir in question didn’t mind at all, he was looking around the room, studying everything. There were a ton of electronics, which he didn’t recognize of course, and schematics on the walls to great vessels, but by the design he couldn’t comprehend how they could float on water. What even was a turbolift or a power nacelle? This Enterprise vessel was a strange one. Then there were pictures in frames. They were so clear he almost expected them to come alive. But there was Piper, Riordan, and a number of people who looked similar to them by their features, so he guessed they were her family. He found himself looking closely at them, smiling when he could see they were clearly enjoying themselves in each picture. Nowhere were there any formal portraits, but daily life images, smiles and fun and memories. It made his heart happy to see such things, but at the same time he ached for the dwarves lost when Erebor fell, and the hardships that fell upon them after. There were few smiles and happy memories made then. He quietly prayed to Mahal, not certain his prayers would be heard, that this kind woman and her precious son would never face such hardships.

“Oh! Thorin! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you wait!” Piper turned her chair to look at him, blinking owlishly. “Is something wrong? You okay? Do you guys need anything?” She rose and crossed the distance to his side, eyes wide and searching his face.

Holding his hands up, Thorin shook his head, missing the way Piper’s eyes traveled to watch his hair sway. “No, nothing is wrong… well, that is not entirely true. It seems that some of my company have gotten a little out of hand, and I have come to apologize.” He sighed when she only seemed confused, “They found a machine in your workshop… and have taken it apart. I have ordered them to reassemble it, but they seem yet uncertain as to whether or not they can.”

“Workshop…? Oh my garage! Uh… there’s just a snowblower and a lawnmower in there… huh.” She frowned, thinking about if she could afford to replace either right now. Probably not. But they had very little lawn, as most of the ground around them was pine needles and natural growth. She only maintained enough lawn for Riordan to play on. Her mother had done more, but she seemed to like the natural approach better. Hopefully they hadn’t taken the snowblower apart. That she needed. “Well, if they can’t I’m sure I can find a repairman who can.” With a shrug she smiled. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m pretty easy going. Things happen, life goes on. Getting all twisted about it doesn’t help anyone.”

Thorin stood, staring at her for a moment, before one of his handsome smiles spread on his face. “If only more people had your heart, Lady Piper.” He grunted when she thumped him on the shoulder. “My apologies, Piper. Just, Piper.”

Shaking her head, she rolled her eyes. “Damn majestic dwarf.”

“Majestic?” He queried, sounding far too amused. “You think I’m majestic?”

Piper laughed, grinning at him. “Well, it’s probably the most used term to describe you that I’ve noticed.” She looked over at her photo wall that he’d been admiring. “Tell me about yourself.”

“I thought you knew of us already,” He countered, raising a brow as he watched her face.

She shrugged in that lopsided way she had. “I do, sort of. I mean, I know the major facts, but not the little details. Tell me about you, Thorin. Not Thorin Oakenshield, the great warrior, the crowned prince, but tell me about Thorin, the m--dwarf. Do you have anything you enjoy doing? Hobbies, interests, dirty little secrets?”

Thorin laughed then, “It would only be fair if you shared with me the same.” His blue eyes were lit with a mischief that he rarely let show. But she had a way of drawing that out in people, it seemed. He found a low-set overstuffed chair and sat in it, while she returned to her desk. They chatted for roughly two hours before she finished her work and had to go up to put Riordan to bed. There was a big smile on her face, that none of the other dwarves missed.

“Had a good time?” Fili asked in a teasing tone of his uncle as the older dwarf joined them, taking his spot on the sofa.

“Mind your tongue. We simply spoke.” Thorin reprimanded him lightly. “Our hostess is quite interesting.” He didn’t see behind him, that Bofur was studying his boots, making certain to meet no one’s gaze. It was a sickening feeling twisting in his gut, he wanted to jump up and scream at their king, but he couldn’t. He wanted to run and find Piper and find out all of these interesting things for himself, but he couldn’t. Instead he grabbed his blanket, pulled his hat down over his eyes and curled up on his spot to sleep, even if it was early. He didn’t feel like being a part of the world right at the moment.

Bifur and Bombur shared a glance, knowing that was unlike their Bofur to act that way, but they understood it. Bombur sighed, and sat back, puffing on his pipe, while he watched Bifur measuring a block of wood he had hewn from the oak outside. He wondered what sort of toy his cousin would craft, as Bifur wasn’t telling anyone just yet.

Eventually the group came in from outside, claiming they had the machine mostly put back together, or so they thought. And they would finish in the morning, as a couple of them were starting to nod off while working. After another hour, Piper had come to bid those who were still awake sweet dreams, and she went off to bed herself, promising the dwarves and hobbit they could have baths tomorrow. Bilbo seemed the most pleased by this.

#Tale Teller’s Plot Bunny Challenge 2019 #TheGreatestDistance #TheHobbit #Bofur #Bombur #Fic #Thorin #Bifur #OC #etc etc etc

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