#moves out and gets a flat with Millie as soon as she can

[rarilee33]

au where Bloberta takes a butch route because she would

[sevenciircles]

Earlier Than Expected

Millie was five years old and she was ready for her first ever Wrath Wrangle!

She had awoken that day with the sun, having gone to bed early at her parent's insistence. It was a big day today, it was her first time being able to compete in the Wrath Wrangle! She had watched it for years, leaning forward on the stands and cheering for her favorites, and now she'd get to participate with the big kids!

Well, she'd be in the 5-10 year old age bracket, but she was still a big kid! She'd been practicing for months now, and Millie was fully confident she was ready! She had all her moves perfected, and she had trained with her Daddy to be the toughest, roughest imp she could! She had to make not only her parents proud, but her siblings too! She would be the first to participate in a Wrath Wrangle, and the young imp knew that she could do something memorable.

She had flitted around that morning, barely paying attention to her parents as she zoomed around the house. She had so much energy! Of course she did! This was the Wrath Wrangle! Imps came from all over the Ring to their section of Wrath for a big fighting tournament! And there were all sorts of game booths and food too! She loved this festival almost as much as the Harvest Jamboree, but she had to be 18 to participate in those events. She would all old by then!

Millie was talking a mile a minute as her Mama brushed and braided her hair, rambling on about this and that and how she would wipe the floor with everyone!

She only stopped when her Daddy walked in and kneeled in front of her. Her shining eyes laid on him, a proud grin on her face.

"Daddy, Daddy! Today I'm gonna bring home that medal! When I win, can we have peach cobbler? OOOO! Or chocolate cake? I'm gonna punch, kick, and tackle the others like- HI-YA!" Millie mimed a punch, causing her Mama to let go of her hair and pull the excitable imp back.

Millie hissed in pain, but quickly got over it. Nothing could bring her down!

"Now pumpkin, I know you're excited, but you gotta be realistic! I think you'll kick some ass for sure, but baby girl your young. You're gonna be up against the real big kids, it's okay if you don't last a round or two. The important thing is that your tryin' Mildred." He said, chuckling and clapping Millie on the back.

She frowned briefly, crossing her arms.

"But I WILL win Daddy! I'm the baddest bitch in the Ring!" Millie cheered, and her Mama delivered a quick smack to her with the flat end of her brush.

"Language, young lady! Remember what I said?" Her Mama scolded, and Millie rolled her eyes.

"Only outside and out of earshot. What you don't know won't hurt ya." Millie recited, feeling her Mama finish the braid.

"And there! My little angel of doom is all ready to go!" Her Mama cooed, and Millie felt the braid. She hugged her Mama tightly, or as tightly as she could, and giggled.

"Thanks Ma!" Millie then turned to her Dad.

"I know where the med tent is, and I know how to take a hit! I'm gonna be golden! Now can we goooooooo already! My event starts in 30!" Millie begged, and her Dad sighed fondly before nodding.

Millie yelled in excitement, going around the couch to the cribs and beds and kissing her siblings and wishing them goodbye. The Wrath Wrangle Festival was only about ten minutes up the road by truck, but she acted like she was leaving them forever.

"Come on, come on, come on, let's gooooooo!" Millie grabbed her Dad's hand, dragging him out the door. Unaware he was letting himself be dragged, she smiled. Boy she was strong!

The ride to the festival was filled with chatter, mainly from Millie as she told him all about what she was going to do. Her Daddy would chime in here or there, remind her of some safety rules, and laugh at his daughter's spirit.

Finally, at long last, they arrived at the site of the festival. Millie hopped out of the truck as soon as it was parked on a random patch of dirt, and ran forward before finding herself being scooped up by her Dad.

Millie didn't mind, and her head was on a swivel as she looked around. There were tons of booths, games, and prizes! And as she craned her neck over the heads of the crowd, she could see the muddy ring where the Wrath Wrangle would take place.

Her Daddy finally let her go, allowing her to run off ahead while he went to sign her in.

Millie zoomed in and out of the crowd, eager and ready to get into that ring! She was so excited, this was gonna be great, she couldn't wait-

OOMPH!

Millie collided with something and she fell over on her butt. It shocked her more than hurt her, but she recovered quickly and opened her eyes to see an imp around her age with white hair and six white freckles.

He stared at her, nervous, so Millie gave a big smile and brushed herself off. She stood up, offering a hand to the boy.

"Sorry about that! I'm just so excited! It's the Wrath Wrangle after all, and I'm participatin'!" Millie said proudly, as the boy stared at her for a second longer before hesitantly taking her hand and helping her pull him up.

Right away, Millie dedicated a lack of roughness on his hands. No callouses. Either he wore gloves all the time or he didn't work, Millie observed.

"That's cool..." The boy said, in a low voice. Still, he was smiling. And Millie could tell he was excited.

"Right? My name's Mildred! But the only people who call me that are my Mama and Daddy." Millie introduced, letting got of his hand.

"I'm..." The boy hesitated. "My Dad said not to tell my name to strangers." He said, fidgeting with his tail.

Millie cocked her head, confused. That was weird, but she didn't think more about it.

"Okay! Are you playin' in the Wrangle? Where are ya from? I ain't never seen you around at any other things." Millie asked curiously, surely she would have remembered the soft spoken boy.

"I'm actually not from here. Well, I am. I was born here, but I live in Greed. My mommy is though, we go on vacation to Wrath every so often." The boy said, becoming slightly more cheerful when talking about his Mama.

Millie's eyes widened in shock, her smile stretching.

"Your from another ring? That's so cool! What's it like? I've only ever been here!" Millie asked, getting closer to the boy as he flushed. That was funny, it wasn't hot out!

"Um..."

Millie then noticed something out of place among the reds and tans of Wrath. Green. Green and blue. She looked behind him and saw for the first time two muscular shark demons, watching them.

Her eyes narrowed, looking to the boy.

"There's these two men followin' you! My Daddy will know how to take care of them. He's the strongest ever!" Millie said, trying to reassure the boy.

However, he only cracked a smile and giggled.

"Those are my friends!" The boy replied, and Millie relaxed. "Dad has them follow me to keep me safe." He said it like it was obvious.

That made sense! They must be even shyer than the boy to not participate. He must be so cool, making friends with adults!

"Oh! Well-" She then heard an announcement blaring over a grainy loudspeaker. It was time for her event!

Millie's eyes widened, and she turned to the boy grinning in anticipation.

"It's time! It's time! It's time!" She yelled, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the ring as he yelped.

Millie forgot she was dragging the poor boy along until she dropped his hand, turning back around.

"I have to go now! I'll be back after I win this thing! Meet me here! Are you gonna watch in the stands?" Millie asked hurriedly, seeing her competition hop over the fence and go to the center.

The boy nodded, and shyly looked towards the stands. Millie's eyes followed, and noticed a large crowd of shark demons surrounding a couple of imps. One was smoking a cigar with weird green smoke, and the other was waving to the boy.

That must be his family!

"Good luck, Millie!" The boy said, giving her a smile before running off.

Millie watched him run for a second, before climbing over the fence and hopping down into the mud. It was nice to meet him, but Millie had to focus now!

She ran to the center of the ring, noticing a lot of the competition was taller and bigger than her. She puffed up her chest and stood taller to make herself look bigger, but it did little difference.

The announcer looked them all over, and she noticed his eyes seemed to linger on her a little longer before he moved on.

"I'm gonna go over the rules one more time. You'll fight one on one in rounds, and the winner advances. The two winners will fight in the final round. Names will be called randomly. There's no weapons, and try to avoid breaking major bones. A small penalty will be deducted otherwise."

Millie had studied these rules, she had listened to them for years. She had trained for them.

"Alright, everyone face the crowd now."

Millie turned around, facing the crowd who began cheering and hollering.

She caught her Daddy in the crowd, hooting and yelling with the rest of them. Millie waved at him, but also turned slightly to the only section not yelling. The shark demons.

They looked cautious, and the male imp looked bored. The woman looked nicer, clapping happily and the boy sat on her lap, clapping too.

"Welcome y'all to the Wrath Wrangle Festival! For our first event, we have the little tykes' rumble! Let's give a shout to our lil upstarts!"

It went agonizingly slow after that.

She had watched two fights, sitting on the bench with the other kids as they awaited their turn. The fighting was vicious, it was dirty, it was tough. Millie couldn't wait!

Eventually, the loser was dragged out and the winner went to get water.

"For our next matchup, Danny Craw and Millie Mason!" The announcer yelled, and Millie hopped up along with a kid who looked about nine or so. He had some bulk on him, but was taller.

She wasn't worried.

As she got into position, she looked into his eyes and grinned.

He was going down.

Millie ended up beating Danny.

And everyone else.

As each fight of hers continued, the crowd grew louder and louder whenever she was announced. She felt so happy, and every time she looked at her Daddy he seemed so proud! She was going to have peach cobbler tonight for sure!

"For our first semi-final match, let's have our surprising little firecracker Millie Mason and our returning champ, Jenna Hales!" The announcer boomed, and Millie stood up.

She had been injured during the tournament, of course.

She was bruised and beaten, her leg felt funny and her side hurt. She was slightly dizzy, but Millie knew that even if she wasn't in perfect shape, victory was hers! She had beaten everyone else, returning champion or not, Jenna would be a piece of cake!

The bell dinged.

Millie didn't exactly remember what happened next, but after feeling a few punches and doling out some of her own she heard screams from the crowd and the world went black.

Millie woke up, a throbbing pulse coming from her skull. She winced, trying to open her eyes before closing them again.

She could feel tears leaking out of her eyes. She hadn't ever been in this much pain!

Her arm felt like it was split in too, her face ached, and it hurt with every breath she took.

"Now now, take your time pumpkin. You took a beatin' out there." Came the voice of her Daddy, and Millie felt the tears roll out more steadily as she sniffed.

Finally opening her eyes, she saw her Daddy there. She realized she was laying on a cot, her arm and leg were wrapped up. She had ice on her eye and a cloth was being held to her lip.

Every second she was awake, it hurt more. Her bottom lip quivered, and she cried openly. That only made her side hurt more, which made her cry more. It was an ugly circle.

"Da-daddy! It hurtssssss!" Millie wailed, and she could feel him holding her hand. She wanted a hug, but she knew that it would hurt more.

"Shhh, I know baby girl, I know. They're bringin' in some medicine and a more professional doc. Normally they don't do that, but for you kid, they are. You really made everyone impressed." Her Daddy said, a smile on his face.

Millie's lip wobbled, she hadn't even considered that she had lost.

"So... so I didn't win? Aren't you sad?" Millie asked, feeling on the verge of sobbing again when her Dad began gently stroking her head.

"Pumpkin, I couldn't be prouder of you. All those folks out there felt the same. No one has ever seen a kid your size and age make it so far before."

Millie found that she didn't care about everyone else.

All that mattered was that her Daddy was proud of her.

Through the tears, she tried to smile.

It would all be okay, if her Daddy was proud of her.

Still, the pain was overwhelming and she felt herself gasping, tears coming out of her eyes again.

"I'm gonna go track down that doctor, or at least see if we can get some medicine. Those fuckin' bastards takin' too long..." Her Daddy grumbled, leaving the tent.

She was alone for the moment.

Millie tried to hold back her cries, but the tears just kept coming.

She closed her eyes, trying to take deep breaths, only to realize that hurt even more.

And then she heard footsteps.

Millie cracked an eye open, thinking it was her Dad with either the doctor or the medicine, but it wasn't either of those things.

It was the boy she had met earlier.

He stood with his hands behind his back, fidgeting.

"I-I know your probably in pain." The boy said, stepping closer.

Millie could have let out a laugh if she felt better.

"So I'll try to be fast. But you were really brave. Like a story book I read! Your super strong, I wish I was." The boy looked down again, before revealing what was behind his back.

A single red rose.

"I asked my mommy if we could get it. She said that it'd make you feel better. Does it make you feel better?" The boy asked, and Millie opened both of her eyes to see the other imp looking at her with hope.

And while her pain didn't lessen, as she carefully took the rose from his hands and smelled it, she did feel better.

Millie mustered a smile, a weak and watery one, but a smile.

"I do feel better, thanks!" Millie said as cheerfully as she could, but it came out as more of a grimace. "And hey, if you're ever in Wrath again, let's play! You can tell me about Greed and I can teach you about fighting."

That took a lot out of the little girl, and she found herself holding back tears stronger than ever.

"Okay! I wanna play with you. When you're better." The boy said, and he paused. He looked like he was about to say something else, but Millie heard a faint call that sounded a lot like 'rocks', and the boy jumped.

"I have to go, goodbye!" The boy scurried out of the tent with one final wave.

Millie stared at his retreating form as she held the rose to her chest. She felt her eyelids drooping, what little energy she had spent.

What an odd imp...

When Joe came into see his daughter with the better doctor, the first aid attendant, and a bunch of medicine he was sure he'd be working off for a while, he saw his little baby girl looking pale as a sheet on the cot.

But the bright red rose stood out.

Joe wondered if he should be worried, but then dismissed it. His little pumpkin spice had a fan, he was sure it wasn't anything to be concerned about.

[anabsolutetrainwreck]

an old lover’s hippie music || h. styles

warnings: mentions of a break up, alcohol, swearing, kissing, not thoroughly proofread

word count: 2.5k

summary: after a messy breakup, you see harry at a party and old feelings resurface…

You had been single for a few months now. Ever since that night when you marched out of the house at two in the morning after a screaming match with your boyfriend at the time, Harry, you felt a lot lighter. Less of the burden of a crumbling relationship to carry around. 

At first, it had been hard to merely function without the presence of Harry, which you’d grown so used to over the years you knew one another - even before you started dating. You spent a lot of time on the sofa of your friend, Millie’s flat, but she quickly grew tired of your moping and offered to help you hunt for your own flat. Regain a bit of independence, she’d said. You finally found yourself a nice little flat in London and you soon settled in nicely. 

Perhaps the flat was your first step to recovery from the heartbreak of the breakup. But, either way, you were back to your old self soon enough. Your friend was happy to see you smiling again. 

There was no particular occasion that warranted a night out for Millie and yourself. But she arrived outside your flat, telling you to put something nice on for a party she was going to. And with nothing better to do, you slipped into some heels and a little green dress. Millie ran the curlers through your hair as you fixed your makeup. It had been a while since the two of you had been on a good night out. 

Walking into the party, it was buzzing with dancing bodies and rock music from the seventies. The lights were flashing, illuminating sweaty dancers grinding on one another. “Come on,” Millie laughed. “Let’s get a drink.”

“I’m beginning to remember why I hate night outs,” you called over the music as Millie dragged you through a sea of strangers. She either didn’t hear you or chose to ignore you as she arrived at the bar. While she ordered some shots, you let your eyes wander across the crowd. You felt your stomach lurch at the sight of a familiar face. It took you a moment to place it before you realised it was Mitch Rowland. As in Harry’s Mitch Rowland. 

It all clicked in your mind then. The seventies rock music and the presence of the guitarist you’d become well acquainted with during your relationship with Harry. This wasn’t just anybody’s party, it was Harry Styles’. You turned to Millie, leaning over to ensure she could hear you, “Mill, whose party is this?”

She looked over at you sheepishly, “Well, I was invited by Ny.”

“So it’s Harry’s party?” you scoffed, taking a sip of your drink that the bartender had recently placed before you. 

Millie shrugged, “So what if it is? Let’s have a good time and just pretend it isn’t his. I mean, come on, we’re surrounded by all his rich friends, he’s not gonna notice us mingling in a corner.”

You sighed, throwing your head back in frustration, “Fine, whatever. Why did you drag me here, Mill?”

“Because you needed a night out and Ny invited me here so I thought you could tag along too,” she replied, finishing off her drink already. “Anyways, who cares if he’s here? You’ve moved on, Y/N.”

You nodded, “Right.”

You maybe managed twenty minutes of dancing with Millie before you excused yourself to go and find the bathroom. After pushing through drunks, as well as having your toes being stood on by an extremely apologetic man whom you did not recognise, you finally reached your destination. 

In your absence, Millie busied herself at the bar. As she was ordering another drink, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see the one and only Harry Styles. “Hey, Millie,” he smiled politely. “Long time no see. How are you?”

She scoffed at his small talk. She could see what he was itching to really ask. “I’m good, thank you, Harry,” she replied anyway. “And you?”

He shrugged, “Good as can be expected, I guess…”

There was a small pause in the pathetic conversation before Millie finally said, “She’s here. She’s gone to the bathroom. She’ll be back soon, so I’d leave, if I were you.”

He nodded slowly, “Will you tell her I said hi?”

“Sure,” Millie said, though she knew she wouldn’t. 

With that, he disappeared into the crowd to mingle with somebody else. Millie sighed, taking a sip of her new drink after she thanked the bar tender. Shortly after, you returned to Millie’s side, mumbling something about your sore toe. “Y/N!” a voice came from behind the two girls. 

You turned to see Ny approaching them. The cheerful woman had her arms outstretched as she pulled you into a tight hug before promptly doing the same to Millie. “I didn’t expect to see you here, because, well, y’know…” Ny trailed off as she looked to you. “But I’m glad you are here! I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“That’s sweet,” you smiled. “But I think my toe’s broken.”

“I don’t think it is,” Millie sighed, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, are you having fun, Ny?”

Ny shrugged, “Not really. Hey, Mill, can I borrow you for a sec?”

Millie nodded. You felt her squeeze your hand tightly before whispering something about being back soon. Miserably, you watched your best friend disappear into the darkness. The feeling of loneliness overwhelmed you all at once as you shifted nervously at the bar. 

From where Harry was standing, he could see you perfectly. That’s perhaps why he hadn’t moved from that spot most of the night. “If you want to talk to her, you should,” one of his friends said to him. 

Harry shook his head, “Her friend told me not to.”

“Fuck what her friend says. You’re still in love with her, anyone can see that,” he replied, nudging Harry towards your lonesome figure. 

Taking a deep breath, Harry pushed his way towards you, thinking of all the things he wanted to say to you. But when he was standing in front of you, he felt his throat close up. “Hi,” was all he managed. 

And when your eyes met his, he could feel himself falling back in love with you. It was like the moment the two of you first met, when he was sure you were the person he wanted by his side for the rest of his life. “Hi, Harry,” you replied, rubbing the sweat from your palms on the hem of your dress. 

“Mind if I join you?” he asked. 

“If you want,” you shrugged, taking a sip of your drink to aid your dry throat, but it made no difference. 

“You look well,” he said. 

“Thanks,” you smiled softly. “As do you.”

“That was always my favourite dress of yours… is that why you wore it here?” he asked, not meaning for the question to sound as obnoxious as it did. 

You scoffed, shaking your head, “I didn’t even know this was your party until I got here… Millie made me come.”

“Right,” he nodded slowly. “Well, you look beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you smiled. “How have you been?”

He hummed in thought for a moment, “Okay.”

You weren’t exactly expecting him to get down on his knees and sob as he told you how his life was torture without you, but hearing such a nonchalant answer almost broke your heart as badly as he did the first time. “That’s good,” you said, hating yourself for the crack in your voice as you said that. 

“And you?” he asked. “How have you been?”

“Good,” you said firmly. “Got a nice flat and everything. I’ve been looking to adopt a cat, so everything’s been… nice.”

“Yeah?” he smiled, looking genuinely happy for you. “I’m glad. Hey, can we go outside? It’s hard to hear you in here.”

Almost reluctantly, you nodded. You followed him out of the club after placing your empty glass down on the countertop. The midnight wind was cold on your bare legs and arms, but it was a refreshing contrast to the sweaty, stuffy air inside. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you waited for him to speak. “How’s your mum?” he asked. 

You chuckled, “She’s well. She misses you.”

He looked taken aback to hear you say that, “Does she? Tell her I miss her too.”

“You can always go and see her if you want. I’m not going to stop you from doing that,” you said, shifting on your feet as he leaned back against a brick wall. 

London traffic whizzed past, despite the absurdity of the time. He sighed, shaking his head, “I don’t think that would be appropriate. She’s my ex’s mum, it’s a bit weird, don’t you think?”

“I guess so,” you replied. “Been working on any songs?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Just loads of depressing breakup shit. I just want to write something happy.”

“Well, a good breakup song never hurt anyone,” you replied. 

“Except the person it’s about.”

You shrugged, “Depends how good it is. Is it good?”

“Maybe,” he replied. “Probably not. We can’t get the bassline to work.”

“But are the lyrics good?” you asked.

“They’re about you,” he replied. “It’s just some soppy bollocks about how shit the world is without you. Nothing special.”

You couldn’t help but smile, “Aw, you think the world’s shit without me?”

“Maybe a little bit,” he said, smiling a big grin over at you. “I have missed you.”

“Missed you too,” you replied nervously. “Only a little bit.”

“Only a little bit?” he laughed. “Wow, Y/N, my heart is aching.”

“Now you can write a song about that,” you grinned, pausing for a moment before clearing your throat. “I am sorry for how I left things.”

“Me too,” he nodded. “We shouldn’t have done that, I don’t think.”

“Yeah, the midnight screaming was a tad bit excessive,” you nodded. 

He shook his head, “I mean calling it quits.”

That seemed to hit you like a sack of bricks. You could feel your heart stop in your chest and you realised that whatever you say next would change your life. “It?” you managed. 

“Us.”

“You think we shouldn’t have broken up?” you asked nervously.

“I know what we had wasn’t working back then, but I’m hoping we can try something new this time. I love you, Y/N… I’m not ready to let you leave,” he said. “I can’t wake up another morning without you by my side. Please, I hate it.”

“Harry…” you trailed off, trying to comprehend what he was telling you. 

“I don’t think I could ever be in love with somebody else when I know I lost what I had with you,” he went on as the London nightlife spun around the little bubble you and Harry had created for yourself. “All of this… I should have said it that night. We can start again, you know, pretend like we’ve never done it before.”

“You think?” you asked. “You think it would be that easy?”

“We can have our first kiss again and go on our first date. We’ll meet each other’s families for the first time all over again. I want to do it all again with you, Y/N. Nobody else but you,” he said, stepping towards you.

His hands were warm on your arms as he leaned down to press a light kiss to your forehead. And in that second, you didn’t want him to leave. If only you could have lived in that moment forever. “You know where to find me,” he said, “if you want to do it all again.”

Wishing you could call out and stop him, you watched him as he walked back inside the club. And again, you were left alone. The wind felt colder and the cars sounded louder and the streets looked darker. Sighing, you went inside to find Millie to ask her if the two of you could go home now. 

It was midday when you woke. Your head hurt, but it wasn’t too severe. You’d kept fairly sober the night before. Rolling over, you came face to face with Millie, who was scrolling through Twitter on her phone. “Morning,” she hummed cheerfully. 

Again, you were irritated by her ability to seem unaffected by hangovers. Just as you felt yourself really wake up, the night before’s course of events came flooding back. “I spoke to Harry last night,” you said plainly. 

Millie shut off her phone, placing it down beside her, “How was it?”

“He said he loves me,” you explained. “He wants to try again.”

“What did you say?” Millie questioned, a sympathetic look on her face. 

“Not much, to be honest,” you replied. “Nothing important, anyway.”

“Is there anything you wish you’d said?” she asked. 

“A lot of things,” you said. “Like… I love him too. I’d like to try again as well. I’m not sure I ever really moved on.”

“I don’t think you did either,” Millie said softly, brushing the hairs from your face as you stared up at the ceiling. 

“What do you think I should do?” you asked sadly, tears welling up in your eyes, overwhelmed by it all. 

“I think you should go and tell him,” she said. “Go and tell him how you feel.”

You nodded, sitting up. In no time at all, you were dressed and out of the flat. Millie had promised she’d make some food for when you return as she hugged you on your way. You clambered into an uber, telling the driver the address of Harry’s house. 

The journey was twenty minutes or so. But it felt agonisingly long. Once the driver pulled up, you told her to wait for you. She nodded, switching the engine off. Cracking your knuckles anxiously, you approached Harry’s front door. You knocked, waiting and waiting. As every second passed, you had to convince yourself not to turn and run away from it all. Finally, the door swung open. Harry stood there in his black sweater and his pink beanie. His eyes practically lit up at the sight of you standing on his doorstep. “I love you too,” you said. “And I want to try it again.”

“You do?” he grinned ecstatically. 

You nodded, “I do.”

He swept you up in a tight hug, burying his face in your shoulder. He spun you around, pulling away to admire you. “That makes me so happy,” he said. “Can I… can I kiss you?”

You nodded. In fact, you leaned up to meet his lips halfway. With his arms wrapped around your torso, pressing you to his chest, and your hands on his cheeks, you knew you had made the right decision. “Do you want to come in?” he asked, pulling back slightly. 

You shook your head, smiling, “I can’t. Millie’s making dinner. But thank you.”

He nodded, “Okay. I love you so much.”

“I know,” you grinned. “I love you too. And, hey, now you can finally write some happy songs.”

He laughed, nodding, “I can finally write some happy songs.”

[onceupon]

London Boy - Part 3: I like girls that dance

summary: It’s your first night out and your first real introduction to Westheath. Rafe is quick to find his way on your radar.

pairing: Rafe x reader (slowburn)

warnings: swearing, drinking

word count: 4.6k

a/n: the way I’m imagining Jack Harlow as I write Liam 😩✋also, im pulling these chapter titles out of my ass - but actually tho, go listen to Girls That Dance by Masego 

Part 1 Part 2

Despite your doubts, you put on the sheer top and the black mini skirt Millie and Olivia had insisted you wear. Your favorite pregame playlist plays as you do your makeup in the mirror. You move as quickly as you can, in desperate need of a shot to calm your nerves before your flat fills with people. You’re also nervous about seeing Rafe after that encounter in the kitchen you just had. 

As you run your fingers through your hair and put on your earrings, all you can see is his stupid (and annoyingly attractive) face, staring down at you with that dumb backwards cap, telling you that you guys should watch Game of Thrones together. Every time your mind starts to think if that means something, you quickly shut down the thought. Of course it doesn’t mean anything. Just because a boy wants to watch a show with you does not automatically mean he wants you or that this was going to turn into some kind of Netflix and chill situation. Or was this gonna be a Netflix and chill situation? I mean it was Rafe Cameron after all, the boy certainly had a reputation. But then again, hadn’t he just showed you that he’s different from what you had expected? Oh god this was all too much to think about right now, you needed a shot. Stat. 

“Y/N!” Olivia shouts, swinging the door to your room open right on cue. “Oh. My. God. You look so hot!” she exclaims. “Here, this is for you,” she extends a shot glass toward you with a devilish grin. 

“Oh god what is it,” you grimace. Shots always seemed like a better idea in theory than in practice. 

“Try it and find out,” she smirks. You sigh and send the liquid to the back of your throat, immediately cringing at the sting of raspberry vodka, Olivia bringing a cup of cranberry juice to your mouth to chase. 

“Don’t worry love, a few more and you won’t even taste it. Now come on,” she laughs, dragging you with her to the kitchen. The rest of your flatmates are already there, Millie bopping along to the music, giggling at whatever Topper is saying, Rafe standing close by sipping his drink. 

“Y/n you hottie!” Millie cheers, looking up as you make your way into the kitchen. You pray to god your cheeks aren’t turning pink. You don’t dare turn your head, but you know Rafe is staring at you. If you looked at him now you’d be crimson for sure. 

“Alright everybodyyy,” Olivia begins, pouring the same raspberry vodka into the five shot glasses she has lined up on the table. You can’t help but laugh at her infectious energy, this girl is nothing if not the life of the party. 

“Cheers to our first night out as flat mates! Wooo!!!” she exclaims, as everyone grabs a shot glass from the table, Rafe instinctively passing you one, hands briefly touching during the exchange and again as you all clink your glasses. You down the contents, unsure if the heat forming in your chest is from the vodka or the feeling of Rafe’s passing touch. 

Pretty soon people start to arrive, Olivia and Millie making sure to introduce everyone. The flat becomes a blur of bodies drinking, dancing, and mingling about, and somehow, despite it all, Rafe Cameron is the person you find yourself standing with. There was something magnetic about him that you couldn’t quite understand, but it kept drawing you near. 

“What are you drinking tonight Cameron,” you nod at the cup in his hand.

“Jack and coke. Of course,” he scoffs with subtle sarcasm, which you instantly pick up on. 

“Not straight whiskey? Wow. That’s not very Figure 8 of you,” you admonish playfully.

“Straight whiskey? L/n who do you think I am?” he twists his face in mock disbelief. “But I’m game to do a shot if you are,” he adds.

“Hmm that does-“ you begin, but you’re quickly cutoff. 

“Y/n, babe, if I had known you’d be here I would’ve came sooner,” Liam greets you with a kiss on the cheek and a cheeky smile. 

“Now how on earth do you two know each other,” Millie asks, walking in line with the boy.

“Umm,” you chuckle nervously. You could not have possibly felt more awkward at the conversation unfolding in front of you, Rafe standing by as witness to it all. “He’s that boy I went to the bar with the other night,” you explain sheepishly.

“That was Liam!? Chrissake. Well I apologize on his behalf for anything he said or did.”

“Hey I’ll have you know I’m a proper gentleman!” he defends, throwing you a wink as Millie rolls her eyes. Just at that moment, another group of people walk in through the door, conveniently coming to Rafe’s rescue.

“Rafe!” a girl calls and he clears his throat excusing himself, Millie following suit to greet the latest batch of guests. You watch as he leans in for a hug with the girl who’s just called his name. She’s twirling her hair and batting her eyes, confident, flirty, gorgeous - just his type. A sick feeling pools in your stomach, you don’t even realize you’re staring. 

“Lily Colts, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Liam informs you as he takes the now empty spot next to you.

“Oh, um no, I was just uh-“

“It’s okay Y/n, I get it. So flatmate huh” he laughs, unbothered.

“No no it’s not like that at all I uh-”

“Alright. Y/n,” he says, jumping up to sit on the counter behind him, cracking open the can in his hand. “You know I think you’re hot and you know I like messing with you-”

“Actually I know neither of those things,” you reply indignantly. 

“Yes you do, you’re not dim,” he bulldozes right on, “I can read people pretty well, and there was a vibe there.”

“A vibe?”

“Yeah. Between you and what’s-his-face. You should’ve seen the way he tensed up when I came up to you,” he snickers in amusement.

“Shut up. His name is Rafe, by the way, and there was no ‘vibe.’ Also why are you even telling me this?” you ask, growing frustrated with the cocky brunette.

“Y/n please,” he scoffs. “I told you I can read people, so let me read you. You’re out here in London right, far away from home, keen for a fresh start. You’ve never been one for meaningless flings, but fuck it, if everyone else can do it, why not you? Or so you try to convince yourself, but you know that’s not you. See, you crave that emotional connection, and when you find even a hint of it, you’re a goner. Which is why you’d never actually hook up with me and it’s why you’re staring at that boy from home even though you swear you don’t care, but you do - you feel something there.”

You’re dumbfounded by his ability to know things about you that even you yourself can’t recognize. “I liked it better when you were just flirting with me,” you grumble.  

“No worries darling, I’ll definitely still do that. I’ll even dance on you in the club if you ask nicely, might make pretty boy over there jealous,” he motions with his eyes toward Rafe, at which you give his shoulder a shove.

“You’re an idiot you know, Millie was right on the money with that,” you quip, as the two of you head over to her, Liv, and the boys.

“Please, Millie wishes she could be right on something else,” he says as you shoot him a glare, trying your best to suppress a laugh. Liam was starting to become a pain in your ass, too smart for his own good, but at least he was a funny one.

—

Your first night clubbing was going great. The place was packed, the music was good, and you were having a blast dancing with Liv, Millie, and their friends. You couldn’t help looking around the club though, eyes scanning for Rafe in the crowd. He’d been hanging out all night with Topper and some of the guys from their new soccer team. You longed to be near him somehow, to interact with him again. All your conversations with him earlier today had left you with an excited buzz - you didn’t know what it was about this version of Rafe Cameron in London, but you were actually enjoying his company.

You try to push him out of your mind and just enjoy the moment. It’s not like there was anything between you and Rafe, you had just barely began to form a semblance of a potential friendship today, let’s not get carried away. Besides, you live with the boy, accidentally running into him wasn’t going to be much of a challenge. 

“Anyone want anything from the bar?” you shout over the music to your friends.

“Vodka soda with lime please!” Olivia shouts back and you nod, turning to make your way to the counter a few feet away. You place your order and mindlessly tap your fingers on the bar as a figure appears beside you.

“Hey, Y/n right? Flatmates with Olivia, Mills, and the boys?” the girl asks, and you turn, now face to face with Lily. 

“Uh yeah, hey,” you feign a smile back. 

“I’m Lily, nice to meet you,” she smiles genuinely. “I’m friends with all the Westheath bozos you’ve probably been meeting tonight,” she laughs, “Callum and Henry over there are my best mates. They’re on the football team with Rafe and Topper, we were showing them around earlier. My god you guys have been hoarding some cute ones over there in America.”

You chuckle, “glad that Kildare’s presence can at least be of some benefit.” 

“So, girl to girl here, what can you tell me about Rafe Cameron? He’s such a hottie isn’t he? Would love to get a taste of that,” she smirks, licking her lips.

“Umm I don’t really have much to tell,” you say, unsure of how to navigate this conversation. You could tell her what you thought you knew of Outer Banks Rafe - he’s a rich, party-boy player. But after today, that no longer felt right. You didn’t want to say or presume anything about him at all actually, it felt wrong to talk about him like that. God, what the hell was wrong with you? You spend a few hours with the boy and you already have a soft spot for him? You needed to get a grip. “Our families know each other but we don’t really hang out at home. He’s uh- he’s cool though,” you decide as a sufficient response.

“Any girl friend?” she asks, sliding cash over to the bartender as she orders a shot.

“Rafe’s not really the ‘girlfriend-type’,” you answer, bartender sliding you the drinks you ordered and Lily her’s. 

“Well then cheers to that,” she grins, clinking her shot glass to your drink before she downs it, waving a quick goodbye. You watch as she makes her way back to Rafe and their group, adorning a flirty smile. You feel sick to your stomach. You wanted to hate her, you did. But you couldn’t. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. She was just confident, outgoing, and not afraid to go after what she wanted. There was nothing for you to be angry about, who was stopping you from doing the same?

 But in the back of your mind you decided you could never go after Rafe like that. He would never be interested in you in that way, you were sure of it. You had a hard time believing your friends when they hyped you up, so you definitely weren’t going to believe for a single second that a boy you thought was cool could possibly look at you in the same way. Besides, the mere idea of being rejected by Rafe Cameron, and then having to continue living with him and eventually go back to the Outer Banks for everyone to find out you had been rejected by the kook prince, was so mortifying that the very thought made you want to crawl into a hole. So you promise yourself, right then and there, that you won’t let yourself get hurt like that. You could hang out with Rafe, get to know him, become friends even, but under no circumstances could you be caught wearing your heart on your sleeve. You couldn’t disarm yourself like that and give him the upper hand. You needed to look out for yourself first and foremost, preserving the little bit of control you still had over your life. 

You walk back over to your friends, slipping Liv her drink as her and Jake dance together. Your new friends are all tipsy and in a world of their own, getting lost in the music and their movements.

“Dance with me,” you turn to Liam who’s right beside you.

“I said if you ask nicely,” he admonishes sarcastically, to which you roll your eyes.

“I’m not gonna beg Liam. You wanna dance or not?”

“Sheesh, Lily Colts got your panties in a twist like that?”

“Not. At. All.” You confidently stare into his eyes, sipping your drink. It’s no use, Liam knows you all too well by now, and you curse yourself for the way in which this boy is able to see right through all the walls you put up. You may think these walls are made of brick, but to Liam they’re glass.

He just laughs at you, shaking his head in amusement. He grabs your free hand and pulls you closer to him, your bodies now pressed together. He takes your hand and rests it on the back of his neck, his finding their way to your hips. He plants his leg in between yours and soon you guys are lost in the rhythm. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying every second. He spins you around and you lightly grind your ass against him.

“Damn Y/n, I didn’t know you move like that,” he jokes, as you face forward again. He leans in, his hand on the small of your back, and you feel his breath right against your ear, “he’s looking by the way.” Your breath hitches, but you know better than to turn around. Liam is already one step ahead of you, instinctively twirling you again so you can quickly catch a glimpse of Rafe’s eyes on yours without it being obvious. “Told you he’d be jealous,” he smirks down at you triumphantly.

“Shut up,” you reply, the slightest smile tugging at your lips as your sweaty bodies continue to move to the music.

—-

“Aw flatmate bonding you guysss,” Olivia gushes, as you all sit together at a booth. She had forced you all out of your beds this morning to get breakfast together. Despite being hungover and groggy, you all reluctantly agreed. “Mimosas anyone?” she jokes.

“If I so much as smell any alcohol I think I’ll vomit,” Topper groans.

“Aw, what’s the matter, can’t handle your liquor Tops?” Millie asks, quirking her head to the side.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny. Could ask you the same question. My room is right next to the bathroom, don’t think I didn’t hear your retching last night,” he snaps back, to which Millie turns bright red and soon you’re all hunched over in laughter.

“I think a mimosa would make me yak right now too, to be fair. Coffees all around!” Olivia asserts.

You’re seated across from Rafe as you both scan your menus, your eyes immediately fixing in on the pancakes. The waiter comes by to take all your orders and you can’t help but blush a little when Rafe orders pancakes and you have to follow with a “same for me.” Such a silly, meaningless thing, I mean everyone likes pancakes. But being the only one to have the same exact order as Rafe leaves you feeling embarrassed, for no good reason all the same. You all begin to scarf down your food as soon as it arrives, thankful to have something to soak up the alcohol in your stomachs, as you share stories and laugh about last night’s drunken antics. 

“So how is it that we’re all flatmates and yet I only have Topper’s contact. Come on, add ‘em in,” Rafe says, sliding his unlocked phone to the middle of the table.

“Wait I want snapchats too. Oooh! And instagram!” Olivia pipes, whipping out her phone as well.

“I expect no booty calls Cameron. This is strictly business,” Millie jokes, typing in her and Olivia’s numbers before passing his phone to you. 

“Am I allowed a booty call?” Topper smirks, extending his phone as well.

“I wouldn’t push your luck Thornton,” she smirks back and he pouts in response. You finish typing your name and number into Rafe’s phone and hand it back to him, skin briefly making contact once again. Even though you had known Rafe all your life, somehow you two never had a reason to exchange numbers, only following each other on Instagram which he never posted on anyways.

“Alright everyone, pull up your snapchat codes, I wanna make a group,” Olivia says and everyone obliges, arms crossing every which way as you all add each other. “What should we name our group chat? Ooo can we do a ship name of our schools - like Kilheath or Westare?” 

“I like Kilheath,” Topper chimes in.

“Yeah I bet you do you psychopath. Sounds like the name of a bad horror movie,” Rafe laughs.

“Oooo there’s five of us, we could be the Spice Girls,” Millie beams.

“No.” Topper immediately shuts her down. 

“What about ‘American Boys and Spice Girls.’ You know, like the Kanye West song,” you add.

“Ehh, we’re getting closer, but not quite there,” Rafe teases you and you playfully kick him under the table. “I’m hearing a lot of opinions and not a lot of contributions,” you cross your arms and raise your brows.

“Hey hey hey, I’m a critic, not a chef L/n,” he lifts his hands in surrender.

“Ooo I got it! We can call it the ‘Royal fam,’ like the royal family,” Olivia suggests, finally getting approval from the whole group. Breakfast is soon over and you all return to your rooms, eager to nap away the remainder of your hangovers. You lay in your bed and stare at the newly formed snapchat group on your phone. Royal Fam 🇬🇧🇺🇸 appears on top and you scroll down, looking at Rafe’s username and bitmoji on your screen. You laugh at the fact that even his bitmoji wears a backwards cap. It was weird, having him in your phone like this. You had known this boy your whole life, but you two had always operated in separate spheres. And here he was, in your Snapchat, a glimpse into the life of Rafe, of which you only ever got a birds eye view of back home. It almost felt like you were trespassing somewhere you didn’t belong, having access to him like this. You sigh and lock your phone. Rafe Cameron really isn’t all that bad.

—

The next few days fly by fast as you become acclimated to Westheath. You and the rest of the Kildare kids attend an orientation with Westheath’s exchange advisor, spending the whole time with your little trio: you, Rafe, and Topper. When you had first arrived abroad, you were deadset on forging your own path in London and steering clear of everyone else from OBX. But hanging out with Rafe and Topper made you all but forget. It was fun and easy hanging out with them, in fact, counterintuitively, they were helping you forget all about the Outer Banks, just as you had hoped to do. Your conversations centered around your interests, your new lives, on random jokes and made up bits. It was almost as if there was a mutual unspoken agreement between you, them also trying to escape and forget their lives in OBX.

Pretty soon classes began, and you were learning a new schedule and adapting to British schooling. Your evenings were spent singing and dancing in the kitchen as you, Liv, and Millie simultaneously cooked your dinners, getting pints at the pub around the corner with your Westheath friends, and playing card games at the kitchen table with Rafe and Topper, the smack talk between you three flowing strong. There’d be short moments where you’d find yourself alone with Rafe - he’d explain to you whatever Premier League team was playing that day, you’d show him how the coffee machine works, and the occasional passing comments of “so when are we finally starting Game of Thrones, Cameron?” “I’m ready whenever you are, L/n.”

—

It was a Wednesday night, and you were curled up in your fluffy gray blanket watching Gilmore Girls in bed. You found the show comforting and familiar, the small town of Stars Hallow reminding you of what you wished your life in the Outer Banks could be like. Instead it was more like the cold and pretentious atmosphere of Chilton and the older Gilmores’ Hartford life. Your phone buzzes, and you pick it up lazily to check, suddenly freezing at the notification on your screen.

Snapchat: Rafe Cameron

You had opened a few snapchats from the boy over the past few days, but they were always random ones he would send to the group chat. This one was just for you. You gulp and put your phone down, not wanting to open it too fast. A few minutes go by and you realize you haven’t paid an ounce of attention to the show on your screen, even though you’re staring right at it. Fuck it. You open your phone and tap on the unread snap.

When are we watching Game of Thrones L/n the snapchat says, a picture of his laptop on his bed and the HBO Max home page open, the series featured in the corner of the screen.

You snap back a picture of your blanket and the laptop playing Gilmore Girls in front of you: ready whenever you are Cameron.

Almost immediately you get a response back.

Rafe Cameron: wait are you home rn? His message is accompanied by a random picture of his room, a view you let your eyes linger on until the message expires. Another peak into Rafe Cameron’s world.

Y/n: Yep! You send a blurry selfie of you wrapped in your blanket.

Rafe Cameron: be over in 5

You leave that last message on open and your heart starts to race. Just breathe Y/n, breathe, you keep telling yourself. It doesn’t have to be a big deal if you don’t make it out to be. It’s just a show. Just a show. And besides, you guys are friends now, right? You sit up in your bed and grab your pillow, shifting over to sit horizontally on your mattress. That seems more casual to you, more ‘just a couple friends watching a show together at a comfortable distance’ and less ‘sitting right on top of each other Netflix and chill’. You gulp down some water to ease your dry throat when you hear a gentle knock.

“Come in!” you call out, and now Rafe Cameron is in your room, eyes absorbing all the details that are so you. The posters on one wall, film camera photos on another. The string lights which wrap around your room and give it a warm glow. The plants, the subtle scent of vanilla. The bag you always carried with you, hanging off the side of your chair. He almost felt like he was intruding, like he was getting an intimate glimpse of something that was for your eyes only. 

“Whats up,” he says, holding his laptop and closing the door behind him. 

“Ready to finally start the show,” you laugh, “it’s about damn time.”

“Hey, I’ve been ready, it’s you who’s been taking your sweet time.”

“Is that so?” you ask sarcastically and a smile forms on his face.

“What are you doing over there? Who sits like that on their bed?” he asks, now coming over and taking a seat on your mattress facing vertically, propping your other pillow behind his back. “Can’t even stretch out your legs or anything,” he continues, patting the spot on the bed next to him, signaling for you to come over.

“I don’t know, I think it’s comfy,” you lie as you crawl over to him, your first line of defense already shot down. 

“Weirdo,” he chuckles to which you nudge him in the side with your elbow. “If Topper’s wrong about this I’m gonna give him so much shit,” he says.

“Topper does have a lot of questionable opinions,” you laugh, “but I have a good feeling about this one.

—

One episode turned into two turned into three, you and Rafe instantly hooked. The nerves you had felt earlier at sitting so close next to this boy in your bed had all but dissipated, you quickly acclimating to the space he took up next to you. Even though by now all your previous misconceptions about Rafe had disappeared, replaced with the boy you had come to know over the past week, there was a small part of you that was still waiting to see if he’d try to pull something on you, like the Rafe you imagined back home surely would. Of course he didn’t, watching and discussing the show with you, making you feel as comfortable as if you two had been friends for years. You almost felt bad for having had doubted him in the first place.

When the third episode ended and you two got into a long post-episode discussion, you hardly noticed when the conversation began to digress. You both started to sink lower and lower down into your pillows, until you were both laying on your backs, staring at the ceiling and lost in exchanges of words and thoughts. The conversation was different this time, more candid and open, as if the shadow of the night was inviting you to divulge thoughts you wouldn’t have shared in the day. He spoke of his strained relationship with his father and you shared the silly drama that had caused a riff between you and your former friends back home. He showed you pictures of his dog and you showed him the video you had been working on all summer long in OBX, not having anyone to hang out with before you left for London. He talked about how he felt so disconnected from almost everyone on that island, and you nodded, understanding all too well. The conversation continued to ebb and flow, the occasional funny video or meme pulling you two into fits of laughter before seamlessly delving into another vulnerable train of thought. You both had your Spotify accounts open now, taking turns sharing your favorite songs. You put on a playlist you had made over the summer, full of songs that made you feel at peace. 

“This puts you at ease huh,” he says.

You turn your head to look at him, “how could you tell?”

“I don’t know. I guess just the way your whole body relaxed the second you pressed play,” he replies.

“Yeah,” you say turning your head back toward the ceiling. “I know it sounds cheesy, but I feel like these songs are speaking to my soul or something,” you whisper.

“Yeah I get that… I have those too,” he whispers back. Neither of you realize it’s already 5 am and neither of you notice as your eyes both get heavy and sleep washes over you, playlist in the background like a lullaby. And at some point during your deep sleep, Rafe’s arm has found itself unconsciously wrapped around you.

---

Part 4

a/n: lemme know what you think!(:

[malfoymanortings]

to be so lonely

REQUEST FROM @gxvrielle : George Weasley x Reader. I wanted the reader to be a muggle who is best friends with Hermione and attends her Wedding with Ron. She meets the Weasley Family and can't help but grow interested in George.

this one definitely got away from me. i had to cut it a bit short at the end, but if there’s interest for part two, i got yall!

hope this is what you wanted! or, at least suffices.

“Millie, you absolutely cannot tell anyone what I’m about to tell you.”

The summer heat was beating down on the two young girls. One had a wild, unruly bush of brown hair. The other, the smaller of the two, had her long brown hair pulled back in two neat ditch braids. They sat side by side on swings, their feet dragging them to a stop. Hermione Granger and Millie Wilkins had been friends since they were in diapers, and had no plans of changing that.

Millie nodded, her big green eyes staring doefully at Hermione. The tone of her friend's voice was different than usual, and it seemed to set off an alarm in the back of her head. She couldn’t help but feel that something was changing, shifting.

“Y’know how I can.. Do things that you can’t?” Hermione began, waiting until Millie nodded before continuing. “I’m a witch, Millie.”

It seemed as though Hermione was waiting for Millie to yell, maybe cower in fear, or even run away from her. The caution that was written all over the bright young girl's face almost made Millie laugh, were it not for her astonishment at the revelation Hermione laid down in front of her.

“A witch?” Millie repeated in hushed tones. “Like… like Cinderella’s godmother?”

Hermione nodded vigorously, her curls flopping about wildly. “Yes, exactly! Well, probably not exactly, but.. Close enough.”

Millie nodded, chewing her lip thoughtfully. “How d’you know?”

Hermione’s brown eyes glittered wildly, and she launched into an animated recount of a woman named Professor McGonagall, who had come to her home and explained that she was a witch. Hermione would be attending Hogwarts in the coming school year, a special school for witches and wizards. She would need to get special supplies, like a cauldron and even a wand, in a place called Diagon Alley, which was only available for magical folks to enter.

A hard lump seemed to have settled in Millie’s throat, as she realized that her only friend, her very best friend, nearly her sister, would no longer be with her in their next school year. It appeared that the only time she would get to see Hermione would be during the summer.

It appeared that her world had shifted around on its axis. It was a lonely feeling, even with Hermione right beside her.

Ever the intuitive child, Hermione seemed to catch onto what Millie was feeling.

“Oh, Millie, I asked if you could come with,” Hermione’s nose scrunched, and her mouth twisted down. “But she said you’re a muggle. Muggles can't come to Hogwarts.”

Millie’s heart twisted painfully, but she mustered a smile for her best friend. “Well, that just means you’re going to have to tell me all about it next summer. Oh! Maybe you could write me while you’re away!”

Hermione’s eyes glittered with excitement, and she launched into a detailed account of Owl Post, which is what magical folk used to send mail. Millie was almost able to forget that things were changing, as she felt herself get swept away in the excitement of the wizarding world that she herself would never be part of.

Hermione’s departure soon after was full of tears and many sleepless nights for Millie. She felt out of place without her best friend, and found it difficult to find her place in her new school. Hermione was supposed to be here, and it was hard for Millie to adjust without her. She constantly found herself daydreaming about the mysterious Hogwarts, and wished more than anything she was with Hermione.

Millie found herself drawn to the world of crystals and tarot cards around her fourteenth birthday, much to the amusement of Hermione. Millie soon became almost an expert on the subjects, and she felt more at ease having found her own kind of “magic”.

Summer rolled around once more, and Hermione had many stories to tell Millie of her new friends Ron and Harry. It appeared that Hermione had found her place at her new school, and Millie was happy for her, as long as she ignored the twinge she felt at her best friend's adventures. There was also an awful little cockroach, Draco Malfoy, who was utterly disgusting to Hermione. Millie vowed if she ever ran into Malfoy, she would punch him dead in his face.

Time seemed to move fast, after that summer. Millie found a place in her school, and made a few friends, although none of them were like Hermione. She still waited anxiously for summer to come, so she could drink in all the magic of Hermione’s new world.

Of course, good things don’t last forever. Their summers began to be cut short, as Hermione was whisked away to her new friends, and Millie still knew Hermione well enough to know that the witch was hiding things from her.

Summers passed, school years came, and soon, Millie found herself ready to move onto university. She hoped she would see Hermione, one last time, before she left, but she didn’t hold much hope. Hermione had shared very little of her new life, but what she did share wasn’t positive. There was a wizarding war going on, and her best friend was in the thick of it.

It was a sweltering hot day, and Millie found herself lounging on her front porch, swinging back and forth on the swing as she re-read Pride and Prejudice. She loved romance novels, although she herself hadn't experienced anything of the sort. Of course, Millie had plenty of suitors, but none of them were right for her. She always had a reason, and excuse, but truthfully, she didn’t want something mundane. She was still captivated by the world of magic, and no “muggle” had yet measured up to what she wanted.

She had grown alright with the idea that she would forever be alone.

“Hello, Millie.”

The porch swing had stopped moving as another person sat next to her. Millie would know that voice anywhere. She placed her bookmark in the book, and set it down next to her. Turning her head, she saw Hermione Granger giving her a wistful smile.

She wore a pink jumper, and worn jeans. Her hair was as wild as ever, pulled back in a low pony. A stark contrast from Millie, who had jean shorts and a tank top on, her hair neatly pulled into a braid.

“Hermione,” Millie smiled, taking her friend in a hug. “I’ve missed you.”

Hermione smiled sadly. “I’ve missed you too.”

Their hug lingered for a few seconds longer than usual. Millie had a sense of foreboding grasp her, and she looked at Hermione sharply.

“I get the feeling that this isn’t a usual, ‘home for the summer’, homecoming, hm?” Millie raised her eyebrows, chewing her lip out of habit.

Hermione laughed humorlessly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “It’s not, no.”

Millie nodded, and the two girls sat in silence for a moment, swinging back and forth on Millie’s porch swing.

“I’m going to University soon,” Millie said in the silence, running her fingers along the rough worn wood of the swing. “It's a few hours away from here. My parents aren’t too thrilled about me moving so far away, but it’s what I wanted. I got Valedictorian, as well, although I’m sure it would have gone to you if you would have been here.”

Hermione smiled wistfully, taking Millie’s hand in hers. “I don’t know, I think my competition would have beaten me.”

Millie shrugged, enjoying the feeling of Hermione’s hand in hers. “I guess we’ll never know.”

“Remember how I told you about the war?” Hermione blurted abruptly, barely waiting for Millie’s nod. “It’s gotten a lot worse. Harry, Ron, and I have to go into hiding. I don’t know.. I don’t know if I’ll get to see you again, so I wanted to come say goodbye. I can’t stay long.”

Millie closed her eyes, feeling her heart thud in her chest. This was what she had been afraid of. Leave it to Hermione to make friends with the face of the Wizarding War.

“Be safe, Hermione,” the words came out funny, her throat was closing. “If you can, when it’s safe… find me. Goodbye, Hermione Jean.”

Hermione smiled sadly, and pulled her in for one more hug. “Goodbye, Millie Rose.”

Millie took one last look at Hermione, and when she blinked, she was gone. In her place, was a photograph the two had taken last summer. Hermione and Millie had each other's arms thrown over their shoulders, smiling and laughing. To her shock, they actually moved.

She gingerly took the photograph, holding it tightly to her chest. This was the last memory she may have of her best friend, and it was magic.

A few years passed, and Millie had graduated from University. Although she hadn't heard from Hermione, she had never stopped thinking of her friend. The magical photograph of the two of them stayed on her dresser as always, and she grieved the loss of her best friend as though she had lost a sister. It certainly felt as though she had.

Millie was able to get a job in her chosen field, primary education, and she was due to start next week. She had her own flat in London, decorated to her liking with hints of magic and literature hidden throughout it. Throughout her home, there were crystals of all different kinds and shapes. They were comforting to her, even if they weren’t wizard magic.

Although she had many good things in her life, she still felt as though she was incomplete.

It was the middle of the night when she woke up to the sound of something crashing in her living room. Her heart thudded, and her blood ran cold. She slowly got out of bed, pulling on her robe. She cursed herself for not having any sort of weapon, and settled for a rather heavy candle she had been gifted for receiving her new job.

“Honestly, Ronald, this isn’t how I would have liked to enter her flat, breaking her plant all over the floor-”

“Oh really ‘Mione, because breaking into her flat at two in the morning is such a good idea itself-”

Millie stopped in her tracks. She would know that voice anywhere.

Rushing into her living room, she flipped on the lights. Hermione Granger stood in her living room, arguing with a tall ginger man.

“Hermione-” Millie sputtered, unable to find words.

“Millie,” Hermione rushed forward, smiling widely as she gathered her into a hug. “I’m so glad to see you.”

Millie held onto her tightly, relishing in the smell of vanilla and gardenias that the young witch always smelled of. Hermione pulled away, a warm smile still on her face. Millie took note of the changes the young witch had. There was a thin white line on her throat, similar to the ones Millie had on her thighs. There were a few more worry lines on Hermione’s face, and although she looked tired, she also looked.. Free.

“Alright, Hermione,” Millie gestured towards her couch and began making her way to the kitchen. “You and your friend make yourselves comfortable, I’ll put on the tea.”

When Millie re-entered the living room with her tea tray, Hermione and the ginger were both sitting on the couch. The ginger had Hermione’s hand in his, his thumb rubbing smooth circles over her skin. Millie’s eyes widened in understanding, as she realized this must be Ron Weasley, the ginger Hermione always pined over.

“Well, Ron, it appears you finally got your head on straight,” Millie sniffed, sitting down in an armchair. “Poor Hermione didn’t think you’d ever find your sense and make it official.”

Ron’s mouth dropped open in shock, and Hermione laughed rather loudly, covering her smile with her hands. Millie smirked, taking her cup of tea and dropping three sugars inside.

“Oh, Millie,” Hermione shook her head, fixing her own tea. “I’ve missed you.”

They stayed up well into early morning, as Hermione finally told her all of the details she had withheld over the years. Everything with Voldemort, Harry, the war. Millie learned so many things that she felt she had no more room for new knowledge. By the time Hermione was done relaying everything, Millie’s eyes were heavy and she couldn’t stifle her yawns any longer.

“Oh dear, I’ve been keeping you awake,” Hermione shook her head, standing up. She flicked her wrist, and their tea dishes were cleared away. “Before we go, there’s one more thing I’ve got to ask of you.”

Millie nodded, in astonishment of the overt display of magic Hermione had given her. She had never seen her do anything like that.

Hermione glanced over at Ron, who had been admiring her the entire time. A blush coated her pale face, and she shook her head slightly as she looked back at Millie.

“I’m getting married, Millie, and I would love for you to be there as one of my bridesmaids.”

Millie hadn’t been expecting that, although she should have. It made sense, the way she and Ron interacted. “Of course, Hermione. I would love to.”

Hermione smiled brightly, and handed her a card with details on it. “I’ll have one of Ron’s brothers come for you, when it's time.”

Millie narrowed her eyes, looking down at the card. “Hermione, this says your wedding is in two days.”

Hermione nodded, looking bashful. “Yes, it took me longer than I would have liked for me to find you. Your parents didn’t live in our old neighborhood anymore.”

“Yes, I convinced them to move,” Millie said softly. “I wasn’t sure if they would be safe with.. Everything.”

Hermione nodded knowingly, a sad smile on her face. “I understand if you can’t make it.”

Millie shook her head. “No, I’ll be there. Just… not much time to look for a dress..”

Hermione scoffed, shaking her head. “Oh, Millie, please. I have one for you.” with a flick of her wrist, Hermione produced a shimmering pale pink gown.

Millie’s eyes widened in shock again at the magic, and she gingerly took the garment from Hermione. It felt soft, silky, and she instantly fell in love with it. “Thank you, Hermione.”

Hermione smiled, and gave Millie one last hug. “One of Ron’s brothers will be here to bring you on Saturday.”

Millie felt that Saturday couldn’t come fast enough. She would finally get to see Hermione’s wizarding life.

Saturday arrived both quickly and slowly at the same time.

Millie wasn’t quite sure what to do with her hair, so she settled on leaving it down in soft curls. She knew Hermione, so she didn’t bother doing much more than natural makeup. The pale pink dress clung to her curves in a shimmery, silky fashion, the top cut in a v shape that exposed her ample chest. She absently wondered if perhaps Hermione had enlisted someone else to pick out the dresses, as the color and fabric was the only thing that shouted Hermione.

Then again, it wouldn’t be far fetched to assume the girl -woman- had changed during the years apart.

At a quarter to noon, Millie sat perched on the edge of her couch. All Hermione had said was that one of Ronald’s brothers would be arriving to get her, and that seemed to be all the explanation she was going to be given.

A sudden shuffling from her fireplace alerted her to someone’s presence, and her heart leapt to her throat as, with a crash of dust and a flash of green, someone stumbled out from the hearth.

Millie gasped loudly, quickly picking up the first thing she could find- an Obsidian crystal tower with a rather sharp point. She brandished it towards the man that had arrived from her fireplace, but slowly lowered it as the red hair registered him to be Ron’s brother.

“Millie, correct?”

Millie nodded, lowering her Obsidian tower back to where it had been. The man was shorter than Ron, and burly, with a few tattoos peeking out from the sleeves of his black shirt. “Charlie Weasley, here to escort you to the wedding of the century.”

“Erm, alright,” Millie took a moment to center herself, nervously grabbing at the Amethyst crystal that was ever present around her neck. “How will we be..”

She trailed off, and Charlie gave her a warm smile. He reminded her of a giant teddy bear, and she felt her reservations slide away. “We’ll apparate.”

The word and definition came out from the recesses of her mind, a long ago conversation a much more naive Hermione and Millie had shared together while the latter had been drinking in any mention of the Wizarding world she could get.

Millie nodded, and rather awkwardly took Charlie’s arm that he extended towards her. “Hold your breath.”

An uncomfortable pulling began at her navel, and it seemed as though the world began to whip past them in a nearly unbearable speed. She could feel herself get nauseous, and as she felt her stomach twist, it all stopped. She would have fallen to the ground, had it not been for Charlie’s arm around her shoulders.

“Millie!”

Said girl swallowed hard, trying to rid herself of nausea. Hermione was rushing towards her, her wild hair tamed and pinned up in an intricate updo, light makeup on her face, completely out of place with the worn flannel button up and jeans she wore. An utterly Hermione combination, Millie thought with a smile.

“Gotta say, ‘Mione, love the outfit,” Millie teased, swallowing away the last bit of nausea she felt. “You’re missing something blue, and something new, however.”

Hermione tsked good naturedly and drew Millie in for a hug, pulling way to examine her childhood friend with an awestruck look. “Millie, you look so… Beautiful.”

“Oh please,” Millie waved away the compliment, blushing. “It’s just makeup. You, on the other hand… Stunning.”

Hermione beamed brightly, a new glow seeming to emanate from her face. A giggle escaped her lips, and Millie couldn’t help but notice the brunette seemed.. Different. Although, she couldn’t put a finger on it.

“I’m going to go find Luminita,” Charlie told Hermione, his face softening at the mention of whoever that was. He turned to Millie and gave her a hug, much to her surprise. “Nice meeting you, Millie.”

The two girls watched the redhead go off, and Millie turned to Hermione.

“Luminita is Charlie’s wife,” Hermione replied, smiling. “They met while he was training Dragons.”

“Dragons?” Millie questioned, but before Hermione could answer, she was interrupted.

“‘Mione, where’d you go?”

The two brunettes turned to see an utterly gorgeous redhead walk out from the oddly shaped house behind them.

“That’s Ginny, Ron’s sister, and my best friend,” Hermione explained quickly, smiling at Millie, noticing the flinch the other girl had at Hermione’s description of the beautiful girl. “At least, my Hogwarts best friend.”

Millie nodded, shoving her feelings of inadequacies away for a different time, and instead exchanged greetings with the exuberant redhead with a dry sense of humor. As she walked back into the house with the pair, she found it was easy to be in company with Ginny. She didn’t make her feel any less than the two of them, even though Millie knew she would probably be the only muggle there.

The house was suddenly thrown into a flurry of activity, and Millie found herself meeting many of the people she had heard stories of nearly her entire childhood. Arthur and Molly, Harry, Neville, Luna, Bill, and countless others that she hadn't heard of. It appeared that Hermione had delegated Harry to the task of leading her about and introducing her, as Hermione had her wedding to prepare for.

“So, this is the Burrow,” Harry explained a bit lamely, his eyes trailing back on Ginny, who disappeared into another room, presumably to follow Hermione. “We’ve spent a lot of our time here.”

“Yes, Hermione told me about that,” Millie smiled fondly, brushing one of her curls behind her ear. “The Golden Trio. I was always so jealous.”

Harry gave her a soft smile. “I think we may have been a bit jealous of you. Ron especially. You got to know Hermione first, before she became the brightest witch of our age.”

“Well, it’s interesting to know this,” she gestured around wordlessly. “Hermione Jean as well. Overwhelming, of course, but I always was fascinated by magic.”

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by a voice she hadn't heard yet.

“Oi, Harry, Ron’s going barmy, can you come speak some sense to him?”

Harry looked at her regretfully, turning to the voice. “Course, George. Can you keep Millie company?”

“Ah, ‘Miones friend?” The tall ginger man walked towards them, his eyebrows quivering in interest. “Sure, mate. Just make sure my brother doesn’t bugger off.”

Harry clapped the man on the back, said goodbye to Millie, and hurried off to wherever Ron was.

Millie took that moment to look at the man before her, her eyes widening at how attractive he was. It was rare that a man caught her interest in such an intense way, but George was… different. She felt drawn to him, although she wasn’t quite sure why.

“Millie, right?” George questioned, his warm brown eyes staring at her green ones. His lips turned up in a smile. “I’m George. Ron’s older brother.”

“George…” Millie trailed off, the name pinging her memory. “Fred and George?”

The reaction that name gave George was instantaneous. His smile crumbled, replaced with a firm line. His fists clenched, and a muscle in his forehead twitched. It almost looked like he was going to be sick, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“I-I’m sorry,” Millie rushed out, wanting to place a hand on his shoulder but unsure if that would be the right response. “Erm, so, you’re Ron’s older brother, yeah? You guys sure seem to have an awful lot of siblings.”

He still had his eyes shut, and showed no sign of relaxing. She tried again, and began rambling in a way that should have embarrassed her, in a way that she only did with Hermione.

“I always wanted siblings growing up,” she watched his face carefully, waiting for him to show some sign of relaxing. “I had Hermione, and she basically was my sister. We basically floated between each other's houses, y’know? But I still had wanted my own sibling, my blood sibling. My mum tried, miscarried a few times. I didn’t mind much, because I had Hermione. But then she left.”

George seemed to be relaxing, and had opened his eyes. They were haunted. He nodded, in a way to urge her to continue.

“She left for Hogwarts, but we still had summers together.” Millie swallowed hard. “Then things got more complicated because of the war stuff you guys had going on. I was always so jealous of her, the magical world she got to be part of… But honestly, with everything she went through, I feel like I may have been lucky, to have been spared all of that hardship. Did you know muggles have their own version of witches and magic?”

The question seemed to have caught George off guard, and he clenched his fists and relaxed slightly, save for a furrow in his brow. “Yeah, card tricks.”

Millie laughed, an edge of relief mixing in. “No, more than that. Some muggles think that with intent and manifestation, certain things can be achieved. There are special stones as well, called crystals, that can help with that. There's different herbs too, which reminds me of Herbology that Hermione told me about. Even Tarot cards, which is like a form of Divination.”

George seemed almost taken aback by the onslaught of info she threw at him, and he blinked slowly. “Am I to assume that you participate in.. that?”

He didn’t say it in a degrading way, but she still felt a bit defensive and cursed herself as she blushed. “I… I do, yes. I’m wearing a crystal right now, it’s a rose quartz.” She pointed out her necklace, holding it out.

George reached out and took the small stone in his large hands, scrutinizing it. “It doesn’t feel much different from any old rock. It’s pretty, I suppose. What is it supposed to do?”

A blush coated Millie’s cheeks once more. “Erm, well. It’s a love stone. It, um. Opens the heart and increases self acceptance, it brings peace.. Helps with transitions, too… It basically helps in all facets of love, intimate or friendship.”

George blinked again, a small smile gracing his lips. “Are you finding it hard to find love, Millie?”

This time it was her turn to be caught off guard, and she took a moment to answer. George let the necklace drop back to her chest, and she didn’t miss the way that his eyes lingered on her chest. A thrill ran down her spine.

“Most people bore me.” She decided it was the easiest explanation, looking up to meet his gaze.

“I’m far from boring.” The words left his lips quickly, his brown eyes not wavering from hers.

She felt it again, that shock of electricity that seemed to emanate from George Weasley. She examined his face, a strong jawline and nose, with wide lips. A smattering of freckles across his face seemed to sharpen his features, disappearing underneath the smartly fitted suit he wore. His shoulders were wide, strong, and he was at least a head and a half taller than her. Even through the suit, she could tell he was muscular. And his hands… They were large and had almost a musical feel to them. She wondered, for a moment, if he played any instruments, muggle or magical.

Unbeknownst to Millie, George was drinking her in the same way she had done to him. It had been a long time since anyone, much less a girl, had peaked his interest. It had been exactly two years, three months, and seventeen days, to be exact.

Millie was short, something that had always been attractive to him. She was deliciously curvy, with wide hips and an ample chest. He had always liked bigger girls, and Millie was… exactly his type. She had long honey hair that brushed past the middle of her back, that fell in wonderfully soft curls he had to resist reaching out to grasp.

Her dark green eyes were framed by long lashes that seemed to sweep her cheeks when she ducked her head in a blush. Her hands were small, and he wanted nothing more than to hold his up against hers to revel in the size difference. Her lips were plump and paired perfectly with her ski slope nose, and carved cheekbones. He wondered what it would feel like to have her neck between his hands… and he had to stop his train of thought there.

“Georgie, good, you’ve met Millie,” Ginny appeared out of nowhere, startling the two out of whatever trance they had been in. “You two are walking together. It’s time to start, let's get going.”

The two looked away from each other suddenly, following the whirlwind that was Ginny Weasley. Each time their hands brushed, it felt electric, and Millie had never, ever, felt this way with anyone before.

They joined the rest of the bridal party, and Millie squinted as she tried to recall everyone that was there. The sun warmed their skin nicely, and they all arranged themselves in line and began their procession into the aisle, where they would eagerly await the appearance of the bride and groom. George held his elbow out for Millie, and she nearly jumped at the feeling she got when her arm as their arms interlinked. From the way George seemed to flinch, she wondered if he had felt it too.

Ginny and Harry led the way, with George and Millie following. Next came Neville and Luna, then Bill and Fleur, Percy and Angelina being the final ones to walk the aisle. Charlie was officiating the wedding.

As the music started up, and Ron was led down the aisle by his father, Millie couldn’t help but wonder who, exactly, would give Hermione away. Her parents were in Australia, forever addled by the memory charm the young witch had been forced to throw upon them. She couldn’t imagine who Hermione picked to replace them.

Hermione wore a beautiful white gown that bore a striking resemblance to the one Millie recalled seeing Cinderella wear. It was a story she and Hermione had been captivated with growing up, and when Hermione and Millie caught eyes, Hermione gave her a wink, and Millie nearly laughed. Of course, Hermione would have gotten Cinderella’s gown for her wedding.

Millie didn’t recognize the person leading Hermione down the aisle, but she was a tall, slender, formidable old woman, who had an undeniable air of authority around her. She had a soft look on her face as she walked Hermione towards Ron, and Millie could have sworn there was a tear in the corner of her eye.

“Thank you, Minerva.” Milie just barely heard the words leave Hermione’s lips.

The woman, Minerva, gave Hermione a swift hug before returning to her seat. The ceremony began, and Millie found herself staring at the people around her. Everyone here… they were Hermione’s chosen family. It nearly took her breath away to finally see them for herself.

Her eyes kept wandering to George, and each time she looked at him, he was already looking at her.

The ceremony ended rather spectacularly, with cheers of joy and hollers breaking out around them. Ron wrapped Hermione up in his arms, kissing her like she was the last woman on Earth. Millie’s heart swelled for her best friend. She had finally gotten her happy ending. Hermione deserved it more than anyone Millie knew.

Magical folk definitely knew how to throw a party. The backyard of the Weasley’s burrow transformed into a reception area complete with a dance floor, music, fireworks, and plenty of drinks and food that Millie hadn’t heard of before. She mingled with the people she had met prior to the ceremony, aside from George. She wasn’t sure where he had gone. It seemed as though after the vows were said and done, he disappeared into the crowd.

After an hour or so, Millie found herself slightly overwhelmed and needed a break. She grabbed a bottle of Butterbeer, that of which Hermione assured her actually contained no alcohol, and she wandered off to the edge of the property. Away from the crowd of people, she leaned against a tree, taking a deep drink from the Butterbeer. It was surprisingly good, and she laughed as she almost felt irritated that Hermione had never shared this with her.

“What do you find so funny?”

Millie nearly jumped, looking up to see George in the tree above her. “Oh my goodness, I had no idea you were there!”

George jumped down, landing rather gracefully for someone of his height. “Seriously, what did you find so funny?”

Millie gestured to her drink. “Just thinking that this is pretty good, and how I’m almost irritated that Hermione never brought this home for me to try. With everything I had to miss out on, it feels like this could have been one thing I got to share with her.”

George laughed, although it appeared to be humorless. “There’s a lot of things I wish I could share with someone who is no longer here.”

Millie cocked her head at George, waiting for him to elaborate. He didn’t seem as though he was going to, until suddenly, he ran a hand down his face and pulled a wand out from his pocket. Flicking his wrist, he conjured up a swing that hung from the tree, reminiscent of the one she had at home. He sat down, and motioned for her to sit with him.

“Just let me get out what I have to get out, and then comment, alright?” George asked, waiting for Millie to nod. She did, and he continued.

“Fred was my twin brother. We did everything together, always have. Towards the return of Voldemort, we opened up our jokeshop. It was super successful, just as we thought. We fought against Voldemort with our family, we fought during the final war, and Freddie… Freddie didn’t make it. It's been two years, three months, and seventeen days without him, but sometimes I wake up and I feel like he’s still there with me, and I’ll rush to go tell him something, but then… he’s not there. And I remember it all over again. When things like this, a wedding, happens, it’s harder. Because Freddie should be here, giving a speech about how we tried to make Ron’s name a taboo, or how we gave him a fear of spiders by turning his teddy bear into one, or how we burned a hole in his tongue with an acid pop, or just… anything embarrassing, because that was our job. And now, without Freddie, it’s pointless. Everything feels pointless.”

Millie waited for George to continue, but it seemed he was done for now. She felt her heart twist for the redhead beside her, and she placed her hand over his.

“I’m so sorry, George,” she said sincerely, watching as George swallowed hard. “I can’t imagine how that feels. I wish that I had the right thing to say, but there really isn’t one. I could go on about how it wasn’t fair and it was senseless, but you already know that. I think all I can say is that you are incredibly strong and although I didn’t know Fred, I’m sure he’s proud of you for making it without him. He’ll be waiting for you, when it’s your time. And then you can tell him about all the havoc you caused without him.”

Again, George swallowed hard, and he turned to Millie with a sudden urgency on his face. He gently placed a hand on her cheek, brushing a curl out of her face. His gentle brush felt like fire on her skin. His eyes flicked from her lips to her eyes, almost like a question.

Millie leaned forward, shutting her eyes, feeling his lips connect with her own. It was like fire, she was almost surprised that there wasn’t a flurry of electricity around the two of them. She hadn’t felt anything like this before in her life, and she reached a hand up to tangle her hands in his wild red hair.

His own large hands roamed around her neck, and down to her sides, his thumb brushing against the side of her breast. She moaned softly in his mouth, surprising even herself. He trailed his hand down further, stopping to rest on her thigh, his fingers gently massaging her skin through her dress.

Their lips parted, and George rested his forehead against hers. Millie felt her head swimming, and took a steadying breath, breathing in the scent of cinnamon that seemed to come from George.

“I think,” George murmured softly, clearing his throat. He pulled away slightly, reaching one hand up to cup her cheek, the other still on her thigh. “I think I may have underestimated you, in a way.”

“How so?” Millie asked, her heart thudding in her throat. What could he mean by that?

“You’re going to be far more important to me than anyone has ever been.”

Before she could respond, George stood, and held a hand out to her. She took it, a bit unsure, and he pulled her up from the swing, keeping her hand in his.

“Care for a dance, beautiful?” He asked, a crooked grin on his face, and Millie broke into a smile as she nodded.

His hand felt so wonderful wrapped around hers.

The two re-entered the party, which had only slightly begun to die down. George and Millie found a place for the two to dance with, and continued conversation.

“So, that thing around your neck is a crystal?” George asked, twirling Millie around in a circle to the fast paced song Millie didn’t recognize.

Millie nodded. “There’s other ones, of course.”

“Like what?” George asked, a smile on his face. “Tell me your favorite.”

“If I had to choose one, it would be Amethyst,” Millie replied thoughtfully, blushing as George rested a hand on her hip. “Although, Smokey Quartz is a close second.”

“What do they do?”

“Well, Amethyst is a calming stone, and it just balances everything out. I usually wear it everyday, unless I feel compelled to wear a different one, which is rare,” Millie supplied. “Smokey Quartz helps get rid of negative energies, and helps with organization. I’m always so disorganized.”

“It’s a good thing I’m a fairly organized person,” George winked at her. “What are your plans for tonight?”

“Nothing beyond going home,” Millie replied sadly, reality seeping into the rather magical night she had had. “I start a new job on Monday.”

“What do you do for work?”

“I just got my teaching credentials, so I’ll be teaching primary come the school year,” Millie smiled, her face softening. “For the summer, I’ll be teaching early childhood.”

“Little kids?” George questioned, smiling when she nodded. “Well, perhaps sometime soon you could come by my jokeshop. In Diagon Alley.”

Millie nearly shouted with excitement. “I could go to Diagon Alley?”

George grinned, nodding. “I think I could arrange that.”

Millie hugged him tightly, not even thinking twice. George didn’t hesitate, he wrapped the shorter girl in his arms, vowing to himself that she would experience magic for the rest of his life.

[minuteminx]

Revolutionary

[NEW FIC ALERT!!]

Pairing: Preston Garvey/ Female Sole Survivor

Summary: In the aftermath of personal tragedies, Preston and Charlie both seek to make a difference in the Commonwealth and those around them. They could never anticipate the impact that they will have on eachother in the process.

[AO3 Link]

Chapter One: Paul Revere

“You cannot buy the revolution. You cannot make the revolution. You can only be the revolution. It is in your spirit, or it is nowhere.” ― Ursula K. Le Guin, The Dispossessed

Qunicy Ruins, June 2288

When Preston was a kid, he’d sit with his dad on their tattered rug as the man picked lackadaisically at the strings of an ancient guitar.  He’d wax all sorts of poetic about the past, the times before the war, before the bombs fell, before everything was rads and raiders and running from bands of ferals.  It was that Great Commonwealth Myth of a pre-war paradise, of big ideals, and boundless opportunity.  A myth that one would hear refuted if they listened closely enough to grumbles from ghouls who’d managed to keep their sanity over the two centuries since the end of the world.

The myth was a lie, for sure, one Preston had clung to for most of his life.  But he couldn’t anymore, not as he stood staring at the massive pile of ashes that used to be his comrades and the settlers they attempted to protect.  The bastards who murdered all of those people were direct descendents from the monsters who made weapons with enough power to wipe entire regions off the map.  There was no paradise; it was just a prettier picture.

The Quincy settlement, if he could still call it that, looked a lot different since the last time he’d seen it, surrounded by junk fences and lined with barbed wire at the top.  Buildings were tagged with Gunner graffiti, and the streets were quiet as the mass grave that the settlement had turned out to be. It really didn’t make much sense.  Shouldn’t it have been some sort of bustling Gunner stronghold after Clint and his buddies went to all that trouble to claim it?

“I don’t like this,” Charlie remarked suddenly, her raspy voice a quick reminder that he wasn’t alone, hadn’t been alone for over eight months now.  He turned to face her, eyes flicking around the ruins to the seven other Minutemen who’d come along.  Millie was the only one who noticed him, and she gave him the least reassuring smile he’d ever seen.

“Neither do I,” he agreed as he returned his gaze to Charlie.  “Not one bit.”

“It wasn’t like this when I got away,” Millie added, glancing around the square, “I know that there had been mention of disagreements between Clint and the other bosses, probably because he has the leadership ability of a bloatfly.”

Preston smirked. “Now, Millie, I think that’s giving him too much credit.”

She laughed and opened her mouth to reply to him, but an explosion rang out instead as a launched projectile crashed into one of the buildings just ahead of them.  She eyed the area frantically before locking onto the rooftop of the church. “Shit. It’s Baker.”

“Baker?” He snapped his gaze up to the walkway, catching a glimpse of a figure clad in power armor and wielding a goddamned fat man.

“He’s one of the other bosses… and it looks like he found himself a new toy.”

Preston sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, running through the list of possible strategies in his head.  “We need to fall back,” he muttered under his breath decisively, then looked up to make the suggestion to Charlie, to the general, “We need to fall b--”

She’d already taken off toward the church, a pistol in either hand, without giving a single order to him or the others.  He wanted to drop everything and chase after her, to stop her from running directly into danger, just once. But someone had to give some kind of instruction before Baker launched a nuke directly on top of them.   He waved his hand over his head and back toward the gates, motioning for the others to head back out of the middle of town. “Fall back.  Head up to the walkways if you can.  We can’t win this from the ground.”

Millie remained where she stood as the others fled to safety.  “I’ll get these guys into position,” she stated, then nodded in the direction Charlie had run, “You go fetch your general.”

“But--” Another mini nuke exploded, in the distance this time, and his stomach lurched.  

“Go.”  She flicked her wrist in a shooing motion. “You’re not gonna be any use back here worried about her out there trying to pistol whip Baker to death.”

He snorted out a laugh despite the gravity of the situation, the image of the rail thin red-head successfully tackling him down, power armor and all, and smacking the butt of her favorite 10mm into his nose.  Honestly, he’d seen her get away with wilder things.  He tipped his hat at his long time friend, gave his musket a quick crank, and ran off after his wildcard general.

He faced little resistance on his way to the church, only a couple of Gunner conscripts crossed his path, and he was able to take them out easily.  It looked like a lot of their efforts were focused on Millie and the others at the gates and climbing up the walkways. It was for the best, but it didn’t make him worry any less for their safety.

When he finally reached the church, it was too quiet, especially for somewhere Charlie was supposed to be.  There was no gunfire, no talking, nothing.  Just silence.  Preston scanned the area, heart pounding uncomfortably in his chest.  After everything Charlie had been through, all she’d survived, she couldn’t be dead now, not while doing a favor for him, not with all that unfinished business between them. She couldn’t.

Several moments passed, and there were still no signs of life in the area.  He decided to head inside the church, figure out how to get up to the roof for a better view.  Just as he moved toward the door, a loud clank of metal sounded behind him and he spun on his heels, weapon readied.  

It was the traitor himself that he turned to face, Clint, in his hulking suit of stolen power armor, a militia hat perched disrespectfully atop his buzz cut head.  He still wore sunglasses that were so reflective that Preston could see his own furious face in the lenses. Clint let out an arrogant chuckle, and stomped up closer.

“Well, well, well,” he mocked, “What do we have here? Paul Revere himself?”

“Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen.”  He didn’t know why he felt the need to correct a man he intended to kill, but the words slipped out.

“I know who you are.  Read all about you in Ol’ Ezra’s holotapes.” Clint laughed again. “And the Minutemen don’t exist anymore.  I got rid of the last of ‘em, myself.

“You missed one,” Preston remarked, dryly.

“What? You? Ha!.” Clint shook his head. “And that merry band of farmers you marched in through the front gate with?  Kind of a rookie move, there, son.”

“ Don’t call me son,” Preston spat, venom filling his mouth.  

Before he could react, Clint’s armored fist slammed into his chest, knocking the wind from his lungs and sending him flying back against the rusty skeleton of an old car.  Preston’s head crashed against the metal, and pain pulsed out from the point of impact throughout his whole head.  His vision spun around him, creating a double of the man who towered over him.  He felt sick to his stomach, and couldn’t quite figure out how to get back to his feet or where his weapon went.  Darkness crept in at the corners of his vision.

“I hate mouthy punks,” Clint growled.

Preston attempted to speak, but couldn’t find words in the chaos of his head.  He mumbled something even he couldn’t interpret.

“Oh man,” Clint exclaimed, smirk twisting on his face, “You’re really making this easy, Garvey.  Can’t say you live up to Ezra’s praise. What in the goddamned wasteland made you think you could rebuild the Minutemen?  You can’t even take a punch.  Pathetic.”

As Clint spoke, Preston noticed a blur of movement behind the other man.  He knew his eyes must have been playing tricks on him because it looked as if the air vibrated like it sometimes did in highly irradiated areas.  Quincy wasn’t one of those places.  The only other thing it could be was a--

Just as he thought the word stealth boy , the wobble in the air dissipated, and Charlie stood no more than ten feet behind Clint.  She slowly raised a finger to her lips in a shushing motion, and readied her weapon to aim.  Preston couldn’t keep the relief washing over his face, mouth twitching at the corners. She was alive, and not only that, she’d come to save him once again. Mama Murphy really did hit the nail on the head all those months ago.

“Why are you smiling,” Clint asked abruptly, lifting his laser rifle, locking it straight in the direction of Preston’s chest.  “What’s so fucking funny, huh?”

“Nothing, man,” Preston managed, words slurring, “Nothing at all.”

At that moment, Charlie unleashed a terrifying barrage of shots into Clint’s armor, damaging the legs so severely that they locked in place, and Clint had to jump out.  “What the--” he began, and turned around, to face his attacker.  “You little bitch .”

He attempted to raise his weapon and aim at her, but before he could get there, she’d pulled her trigger.  Preston couldn’t make out where she’d shot Clint, but the man dropped his gun and fell to his knees, before falling to his face.  Charlie holstered her pistols, and stared down at the man she’d just killed, expression as flat as he’d ever seen it.

“I’m not a bitch,” she muttered, shaking her head before setting her gaze on Preston, worry knitting her brows as soon as their eyes met.  She rushed over to where he sat, up against the car he’d been thrown into, and knelt down, cupping his face with a gloved hand on either side and turning his head to the left and then the right, clearly examining him for injury.  She flipped a switch on her PipBoy, flashing a bright beam of light into each of his eyes.  He squinted and shook his head, causing her to giggle, but he could hear the tears and sniffling between laughs.  

“You’re okay,” she assured him, pressing an unexpected kiss to his forehead, “Looks like you might have a concussion, but you’re safe.  I’m here.”

“You’re really scary sometimes, you know that,” he stated, words still stumbling out of his mouth clumsily.  

She laughed nervously and glanced away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.  “I’m sorry, I just… I’d just watched Clint knock you into this car, and he was about to kill you and I just--.”

“No,”  he corrected her, grin spreading across his face, “It’s kinda hot.”

She snorted and a tear rolled down her cheek, dripping off her chin.  “Jesus, you hit your head harder than I thought.”

“It’s still the truth,” he admitted weakly, vision closing in entirely.  The last thing he heard before he lost consciousness entirely, was her voice calling his name.  

“Preston?”

[sincerlypadfoot]

Seconds (3)

~During the time of the order of Umbridge and the dumbledore army, you have no problems summoning your Patronus, doing it on the daily, watching the dragon fly around your room, but once you see someone who catches your eye who has troubles, you’re determined to find his happy moment

Word Count-1983

Send Requests Here

My eyes flung open and excitement rushed through my body, quickly flooding away with the sound of my alarm cloak humming my whole room. “It’s Christmas,” I whispered to myself leaning over and shutting my alarm off.

I didn’t get out of bed or move around, I just enjoyed the quiet of the house, before everything went to chaos in a couple hours.

“Good morning,” Ryker whispered walking into the room, not knocking. “Millys asleep but do you want anything to eat before our family comes over with the kids?” He asked.

“Please, I’ll take whatever your cooking, Merry Christmas Ryker,” I smiled tossing my blanket over me. “I’ll be here admiring the snow outside,” I chuckled watching the slow melt hitting my window.

“I’ll start cooking, Merry Christmas to you too,” I said to Ryker crawling out of my bed and opening my window. “Hey wanna do me a favour,” I cooed at the owl that laid outside on the tree. I turned around and grabbed a wrapped present that laid in a bag carrier. “Neville Longbottom, it’s his Christmas present,” I placed the carried in the owl's claws, watching the black owl fly away quickly.

“Wanna match?” Milly croaked walking in, she walked in holding a purple and blue short Christmas dress. “You’ll just need a belt, it’s an earlier Christmas present from me,” She smiled walking into my room. 

“Purple, I know blues your favourite colour,” I said walking over to Milly and pulling her into a hug. “Merry Christmas Milly,” I whispered.

“Merry Christmas Lia, go have a shower, your family will be here soon,” Milly said plugging her nose. “I can smell you from my room,” She joked smiling and walking out of the room. 

I shook my head and walked towards the bathroom, getting caught up and wasting time. “Thank you!” I shouted at Milly hearing her in her bedroom just beside the shower, I heard her knock on the wall, I chuckled and continued washing my hair.

“Goodmorning,” I cheerly said to Ryker and Milly who were placing a couple things under the tree before everyone had gotten here. “How do I look?” I asked spinning around for the two.

“Like a million dollars,” Ryker said smiling. “You both look like a million dollars,” He smirked planting a kiss on Milly's cheek. “Cooking is almost done, family will be here soon, presents are planting, everything is perfect, just mom and dad won’t be here this year,” There was a hint of disappointment in his words.

“I’m sure they’ll be back soon Ryker,” Nothing in my voice helped any better when I walked over and wrapped my arms around my brother. “I’m sure,” I whispered in his ears.

The door knocked, breaking the both of us from our strange thoughts. Milly didn’t say a word but walked over to the door, leaving Ryker and I alone in the living room.

“Merry Christmas!” Luna Lovegood called out catching me off guard, I looked at her and smiled, running over and wrapping my arms around her. “Your clear of Nargles,” I heard Luna say taking a glance around my house.

“Merry christmas,” I chuckled smiling. “Where is your dad?” I asked looking around, a tall blond man who walked in. “Hello uncle Xeno,” I smiled happy wrapping my arms around him.

“Hello little one,” Xeno Lovegood smiled hugging me back. “Merry christmas,” His arms loosened and a tiny wrapped box shaped present laid in his hands. “Open it, your gonna love it,”

I took the perfectly wrapped present from my uncle and opened it up, a deathly hallow necklace laid infront of me, I smiled and took it out. “I love it,” I smiled hugging my uncle once again.

“I know you would, ever since I had met you when you were just a wee girl you loved my necklace, and I had to you your own,” Xeno said smiling. “i’m glad you like it,” he placed his hand on my head smiling down then walking away with Luna, followed by Milley.

I smiled walking towards our fireplace watching green sparks fly out, a woosh of green flew out and a plumped old woman walked out followed by three teenagers, recognizing them from schools.

“Oh my Lia, you look just the same as you did years ago,” My grandmother Lucille chirped wrapping her arms around me. “I heard about your parents, what a shame that they won’t be here this year,” I felt angry as the words came out of her mouth.

Ryker wrapped his arms around my shoulder before I could say anything else. “Hey Mema,” He said letting me go and wrapping his arms around her. “Missed you,” I heard him say, my anger left and I had felt a bit better.

“Come on, dinner should be ready soon,” I said to the group that stood infront of me, I didn’t wait for them to finish talking but walked away to our dining room were Luna, Xeno and Milly all were talking amongst themselves.

“Hey,” Milly greated pulling out the chair beside her. “Sit, we were just talk about your favorite topic, school,” I rolled my eyes and smiled, walking to the sit beside Milly and sitting down, placing my hand on my necklace that I had just gotten moments ago.

“Oh yes my favorite topic,” I mocked sitting down and having a drink of water that sat infront of me. “Continue your conversation,”

“Well,” Xeno started to say. “I hear that you made friends with that Longbottom kid Milly was saying,” My hand started patting my leg nervously.

“Yeah well I thought making new friends would be nice, I brought him to the carnival, I looked for you two but didn’t see you,” I smiled at the thought of Neville and if he had received my present yet.

“We didn’t see you either, must have missed each other,” Luna said smiling. “How is Neville, are the Broom Flies getting to him?” She asked making me tilt my head but I went with it.

“No I think he’s okay, no Broom Flies have gotten to him, how are you doing Luna?” I asked changing the topic from Neville to her.

“I’m doing good, though my shoes have gone missing again, suppose that the Nargles will have something to do with it,” Luna was the laid back cousin that I admired, she was calm and I had never seen her angry, and she always saw the good in people before the bad.

“Dinner shall be served,” Ryker happily said walking into the room, food appeared on the table and our Mema and her two grandkids we hated.

“So,” Lucille said breaking the silence at the table. “Good afternoon Luna dear and Xeno,” she nodded her head taking a bit of her food. “Any boyfriends?” her face turned to me.

“No don’t need one, I like it that way,” I bitterly smiled taking a drink of my water. Ryker kicked my feet but I hadn’t budged.

“Shame, i’m sure you parents want you to get married, have you thought about marriage yet?” 

Before I had been able to answer the doorbell rang and I shot up from my seat. “I’m more than happy to grab that,” I smiled looking at Ryker and Milly then making my way to the door. “Nolans residence,”

“Lia,” Neville said catching me off guard, I double looked then smiled. “I ugh Hermione told me where to find you, thank you for the snowglobes, I brought you something,” His voice trembled as he had pulled a present out from his back.

“Neville,” I smiled stepping outside and shutting the door. “You didn’t have to,” I picked my nails a bit nervous.

“My grandma insisted, open it,”  Neville pushed the gift a bit closer, I took the gift in my hands, feeling it a bit flat instantly knowing what it was and putting a bigger smile on my face.

I tossed the wrapping paper on the porch and looked at the picture frame in my hands, Neville grandmother must have taken a picture of us, I watched as Neville and I walked up the stairs with my big stuffed animal in hand, at the end with both hugged.

“I love it,” I cried out holding the picture tightly in my hand and using the rest of me to wrap my arms around Neville.

“I’m glad, I was a bit nervous, didn’t think you would like it,” Nevilles arms wrapped around me and we just stayed still for a couple seconds.

“Lia dinners getting, oh hello,” Rykers voice shot me up and I turned around looking at him. “I think we have a extra chair if you’d like to stay,” my cheeks went red.

“Neville’s grandma is waiting for him,” I started to say but stopped looking at Neville.

“Actually she’s gone visiting my parents for the night,”

“Perfect, Neville come on let me introduce you to everyone,” Ryker happily said tossing his arm over the poor boys shoulder and bringing him in the house before I could decline.

“Ryker,” I hissed picking up the wrapping and walking inside stopping the pair before entering the dining room. “Mema isn’t the nicest person, you really don’t think this through,”

“Fine,” He huffed taking his hand off Neville. “Whenever you two are ready dinner won’t be paused,” 

I placed my hand on my forehead listening to Ryker walk away. “Sorry, my brother is just dumb,” 

“It’s okay, you’ve said that a lot,” Neville chuckled facing me. “So, dinner sounds nice,” he smiled a bit.

“I’ll show you around first, my Mema isn’t my favorite person, I can go a bit, but Lunas here, she’s my cousin,” I turned from the dining room with Neville and walked up the stairs towards my room.

“Weird I never knew that, I guess her mom was your aunt?” Neville asked following me up the stairs.

“Yep, she was my moms sister, Luna and I were never close until hogwarts, now we’re like sisters,” I stopped and turned to Neville catching him off guard. “My room isn’t the best also, didn’t expect anyone to come in,”

Neville and I walked into my room, my owl Uni sitting on my desk asleep making me smile knowing he was already back. 

“Trevor isn’t nearly as cool as your owl, look at her,” Neville said walking over at Uni who opened her eyes, cooing excitedly at the sight of Neville. “I saw her this morning at my window,”

“I just thought a snowglobe would be a nice gift, something simple,” I paused walking over to my shelf and clearing a spot. “I really do like this picture, we look nice,”

Neville walked over and stood beside me, we both looked at the picture, admiring each other. “I do too,” his eyes grazed from the picture to the corner of my bed where the pink stuffed bear laid. “And that,”

I laughed rubbing the back of my neck. “Well I guess i’ll have to face my grandmother sometime, im warning you, she says whatever she likes without a care, so i’m sorry in advance,”

Neville smiled and nodded his head, we both walked down the stairs, my hands started piking at my skin but warm hands leaned into my palm and I stopped and felt a sense of calm.

“We have a extra dinner guest,” We walked into the dinning room, everyone shot their heads in our direction, Luna and Milly smiled, she was already moved beside Ryker saving a seat for Neville and I.

“Hello Neville,” Luna greated, we sat infront of her with the food already served and on our plats. “Glad you’ll be joining us tonight,”

“Neville is it,” Lucille said leaning forward a bit and putting her hand out. “Nice to meet you, I hope your treating our Liana here very well,”

“I am,” Neville smiled shaking her head. “This looks really good, thank you for having me,” he nodded his head and started eating the food.

I smiled not helping myself, glad that everything was okay and food was infront of me, Neville I took one more glance at each other letting out a chuckle then eating again.

[alicedrewbanks]

alice + jj / summer flashback

                                                 you can call me al – july 19th

Alice had never been denied books before and so she didn’t know how enraged she should be at these circumstances. Politeness took over her and she delicately repeated,

“But I’m going to be starting here after the Summer, so -,”

“As I’ve already said, it is only available to current students.”

“I can’t get books out from my school now though.” Alice persisted, speaking in an urgent whisper. “Please? I really don’t want to go to the community library.”

The thought of the lack of the books they had there made her shudder. The librarian sighed, turning to another customer, obviously growing bored of Alice. She stared sadly at the three books that sat on the desk – one on paranormal activity, one on planting and The Invisible Man.

“You can take them out on my card.”

Her head flicked in the direction of the voice and saw an older boy not even looking at her properly. She wasn’t used to speaking to older boys apart from Matt and his friends, so she didn’t even know how to take part in the conversation.

“Oh, no, I can’t do that.” She replied with an awkwardly polite laugh and a shake of a hand.

He finally looked at her and Alice was taken aback by the fact that not only was he an older boy, he was beautiful. She never really had an interest in boys before this, but could always appreciate someone’s beauty and he possessed beauty in abundance.

“No, really, it’s fine.”

He spoke in a low voice, but a little louder than Alice’s whisper.

“No, I mean, that would be against the rules.” She said with slightly raised eyebrows, smiling all the same. “But thank you.”

He smirked at her and the librarian turned away from her computer, speaking in an even tighter whisper than before.

“You are 160 days overdue on this book. The charge is £75.”

There was a silence and Alice looked between this boy and the librarian with great bemusement.

“What?” He said with no attempt at speaking in a low voice now. He laughed. “I just found this in my room and thought I was doing a good thing.”

An uncontrollable giggle left Alice. The librarian gave her a stern look causing Alice to try and get a handle on her laughing, but all she really noted was that the boy was looking at her with equal levels of bemusement. Now she was left with an uncontrollable blush.

Embarrassed at the colour, she pointed at the books, picking them up to return them to their correct places.

As she was placing the last of the books, The Invisible Man, back, she jumped at a face appearing behind the shelf.

“Sorry, sorry, I just wanted to let you know I’ve paid my debt to the library.” Alice smiled, turning her face down and away from him.

“Quite a high price tag for a book. I hope it was worth it.” He let out a small laugh.

“Can I speak to you without the shelf between us?”

They now had less space and shelves between them as Alice walked out the library, not wanting to break any more rules in her little place of worship.

“I’m Jay, by the way. Or JJ, lots of people call me that.” Jay announced when they were outside the library with the sun hitting his face and making it comparable to a statue in an art gallery glistening in the light. She took a breath.

Despite them living in a tiny village, she wasn’t familiar with this older, mysterious boy.

“I’m Alice. You can call me Al, but not many people do.” He laughed at her poor joke and it made her heart beat wildly.

“Like the song?”

Laughter sang between them and she nodded wildly.

“Just like the song.”

let’s hear it for the boy – july 29th

“A boy? A boy!”

All that George received for that was exasperation from Alice.

“Yes, a -,”

“Oh, shut up, George,” Millie hit his arm and turned back to Alice. “Tell us EVERYTHING!”

Normally it was Millie telling them everything about a boy she had met at a party or George privately telling her about his undying love for Millie. There was never anything Alice had to say about other people, it was always about her books or subjects or tea or music. This was so very different and she didn’t even know where to begin.

“Yeah, start with what boy it is.” George continued, rubbing at the spot where Millie had hit him.

“Well, his name is JJ and -,”

“JJ? As in Jay Jhaveri?” George asked, looking more alert.

“You know him?”

“Know him? He is dreamy and so much older than us – Ally, you like an older boy? Where would you have met him? At a party? If you’ve gone to your first ever party without me then I will SCREAM -,”

“Mills -,”

“We met at the library.”

“That day you were supposed to meet us at the library?”

Alice provided George with a sheepish smile, them both knowing now that she had ditched their planned true crime documentary marathon, so she could spend the day with JJ.

“So it’s been two weeks?”

“One week and three days?” Alice responded, carefully trying to sound like she hadn’t keeping track.

“What have you guys done? Are you still a virgin?”

“Millie, heck, of course I am!”

Millie shrugged.

“Being older he’ll want sex sooner than guys our age.” She said matter-of-factly. She turned to George, “How long would you wait?”

“I’ve been waiting 16 years. I’m good at waiting.”

Millie raised her hand as if he had proven her point.

She wondered if Millie was right. ‘Boys’ was not something Alice had any knowledge on. Maybe she should find a book on them.

“Anyway,” She changed the subject, suppressing her fear on how these things worked. “You both know of him? What do you think?”

George filled his air up with cheeks and puffed them out slowly.

“I think this is so cute! You seem like an unlikely couple, but if you like him – we need more details! Spill, spill, spill.” Millie squealed, but Alice kept her eyes focused on George causing Millie to turn and stare at him too. He felt both sets of eyes on him and waved his hands wildly.

“Yeah, well, he is cool, I guess… but he is much older than us? What, like eighteen?”

“Nineteen…” Alice said in a small voice. “Nobody else knows about us right now and I’m only telling you two, because we know about the age gap. When I turn seventeen, which is very soon, then we won’t hide it. He’s just… lovely.”

George eventually nodded.

“Well, if you’re happy.”

                                                i think we’re alone now – august 3rd

They skipped the song by Joy Division and it went to Africa by Toto. They only listened to the happy and silly songs together.

One earphone each.

Her head was resting on his shoulder with his arm wrapped tightly around her. The sun was beating down on them. This was how summer slipped away – in the space between his arm and torso.

“Can I ask you something?” She softly edged her head up so he knew she was listening. “If the rules were different with the library, would I have even stood a chance with you?”

She laughed so much that she shook his chest and then his laughter shook her. That was how they moved, one after the other.

“Maybe in a parallel universe I did get those books and we never even spoke.” She mused softly and he let out a long sigh.

“Oh, I’m glad I live in this universe then.” He shifted slightly, moving to his bag. “I did note though that one of the books was this? Hopefully it was this anyway.”

She pushed herself up to be leaning on her elbow and took The Invisible Man out of his hands.

“I didn’t realise you were paying such close attention…” She stared at the book in amazement.

“Yeah, yeah, you’d think I just wouldn’t remember anything about the day I met you.” She laughed again, feeling suddenly shy and embarrassed.

“I think even in the parallel universe where I get those books, you would still have an overdue book and I would still laugh at you…”

“So I wouldn’t be replaced with a library?”

“Wait, no, nobody replaces a library for me. Libraries are my holy ground, my church, my safe place. All people are second place.” She laughed lightly, leaning back into his chest, feeling something tighten in his body ever so slightly.

“I don’t really have a safe place like that. I guess my flat is now, but it’s not really a home.”

It made Alice feel sad. Very, very sad.

He just wanted a home.

She understood that JJ had a hard life and it was one she would never be able to relate to. She also knew there were rumours about the life he had been leading and company he was keeping, but again she couldn’t relate to that. She did know that the person he was with her was who he was or wanted to be and sometimes people were put in hard positions in life.

She put her hand on his chest and circled the general area of his heart.

“This can always be your safe place. Right in the middle of a field, listening to music and, if you like, being with me.” She looked up at him and watched as his eyes moved to focus on hers. Something told her that the answer touched him.

She could never understand a life as difficult as his, but she wanted him to know an easier life even if it was just when they were together.

                                                              drive – august 16th

She had never even touched herself before and now his hand was on her. It felt like pure ecstasy and she didn’t want the feeling to ever end. Eventually her hand was gripping at his shirt and her eyes were closing, the last image of his lovely face in her head, as she moaned out, shaking out the feeling of the joy. Her eyes opened again and she was gasping again.

“What the heck?” She asked all breathy and bewildered. He searched her face, his smile reaching his eyes as he kissed her softly.

“You uh… liked it then?”

She shook her head, still unable to get over the shaking in her toes.

“I… have no words.”

He removed his hand from underneath her summer dress and touched her tingling skin.

“Are you cold?”

“A little.”

He kissed her again and rolled over pulling a sweater out for her. She sat up, pulling it over her head. Another present from him.

He groaned putting his head in his hands as she untucked her hair from it.

“What’s wrong?”

She furrowed her eyebrows in equal parts confusion and amusement.

He peeked out from his hands.

“You have no idea how perfect you look right now. Ugh… I just… I like you in my sweater.”

She laughed.

“I like being in your sweater.”

“I’m sorry, my place does not deserve to have you in it.”

She took his face in her hands and shook her head.

“I’ve told you before, I think it’s charming.”

They stared at each other, their faces so close. It was something they were doing more frequently these days. Staring at each other in intense silences. Whenever they did it Alice was tracing the outline of his features so she could remember them perfectly for when she went to sleep. She liked to think he was doing the same.

“I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel.”

He groaned loudly, breaking all the silence.

“Ah fuck, Al, I’m going to take you home before I get carried away.”

Alice bit down on her smile. She had never spoken like that before and felt suddenly powerful over him. She did really want to make him feel good as well, even though she had no idea how to do that. His reaction made her want to try.

                                                        -------------------------------

As they sat in his car, parked around the corner from her house and with the windows all steamed up from them kissing, she was sure nobody would see them.

He pulled away and then moved back in for another kiss and then another and then he finally sat back properly in the driving seat with his hands on the wheel and shook his head.

“You really should go in, because I don’t want to be the guy who keeps you past your curfew.”

“Okay, okay, dad.”

He rested his head on the wheel watching her carefully again and she thought they might fall back into staring at each other, but then he spoke.

“I meant what I said earlier, you know. You’re fucking – I mean, you’re perfect. You’re just an angel and I don’t know what the… heck… what the heck you’re doing with me, but you are.”

“JJ, you’re -,”

“I love you, Alice Banks.”

She stopped and stared right into the face of this beautiful boy and this felt like all the romantic classics she had read and read and now it was happening to her.

“I love you too.”

                                                   you can’t hurry love – august 25th

“You want to take it outside?” Matt was in the doorway of her room pretending to punch the air. When she looked up from hurriedly hiding away her lip gloss that she had been applying, she saw he was holding a book in front of him.

“Mmm… I can’t today – I’m going over to Millie’s for this thing.”

Matt let out a low whistle, stepping further into the room.

“You know you’re the world’s worst liar, right?”

Wringing her hands in her lap and then hitting them against her forehead, she nodded.

“I am completely aware of that fact.”

Matt took a seat next to her, almost giddy in his energy.

“Well, I thought I was coming here for a traditional summer afternoon, so you now must pay the price of your secret.”

He spoke in a dramatic voice and ended it with an evil laugh. She rolled her eyes.

Taking a deep breath, she readied herself for telling him the only secret she had ever had to keep.

“Firstly, we just got back from our holiday two days ago, so I am not buying the disappointment,” She took another breath, looking at Matt directly, so it didn’t look like there was any reason to be nervous. “Secondly, I’ve kind of been dating someone this summer and -,”

Matt gasped.

“George?”

Alice’s face contorted into pure confusion.

“What? No?”

“Come on, that’s going to be the natural assumption.”

“Hmm… I don’t see how… Anyway,” She had to ready herself again. “I’m dating this boy called Jay, well, JJ, and he’s -,”

“What?” Matt’s face was now far from being excited about this news. Maybe George was the only acceptable person for Alice in his eyes. “JJ?”

“You know him?”

His face tightened and he took some time to reply.

“I know of him. He’s the guy who hangs around Owen Summers?” He put his head in his hands and sighed.

Alice did know that he was friends with him as she had looked at his Instagram and there was that time when her Dad was driving her back from Millie’s one night and she saw JJ and Owen in a car. She had noticed him immediately and he looked like a completely different person to the one she knew from summer walks and bedroom talks, but then he saw her and softened around the edges. She smiled at him then and he did the same, getting softer still.

“How did you even get caught up in that?”

She looked down into her lap, feeling small all of a sudden.

“And how old is he?”

“I’m going to be turning seventeen in a week; it’s only a two year difference.”

“Yeah, sure, that makes it all fine!”

Alice shook her head at Matt getting up from the bed in anger.

“Matt, he’s a good person, no, a great person. Just because he has a few bad friends doesn’t make him a bad person – he’s not like that. I love him and I thought you would be able to trust my judgment. Have I ever been wrong about someone before?” She stopped, pleading with her eyes, imploring Matt to respect her decision. “Do you know something about him?”

Matt sighed, turning away from her and then immediately coming back, kneeling at her feet.

“No, no, I don’t, I just -,”

“Then listen to me.” She spoke with a firmness that she was sure Matt wasn’t used to hearing from her unless they were in a heated political debate and it was never directed at him.

He nodded his head slowly.

“I will, I trust you.” He softened, pulling her in for a hug. “Come on, you know it’s my job to protect you.”

                                                love will tear us apart – august 30th

She walked up to JJ in the playground that surprisingly didn’t have any children in it despite it being a hot day. There was an unshakable giddiness in her stomach at all of this. It was the first time they were meeting in daylight so close to possible people who could see them. How could she not think of their future together and how this could be them all the time? It was almost her birthday and she was hoping he would come to the celebration with George, Millie and her family.

He was sat in the swings as she practically skipped up to him.

“Hello, beautiful,” She giggled, delicately taking one of his hands. Suddenly she felt very shy being in public with him.

“Uh…” He looked up at her and her face immediately changed to one of concern.

“What’s wrong?”

There was a silence that could have lasted a little while longer for Alice. In the silence, he was still hers.

“I need to talk to you.” She let go of his hand and took a step back. How could she not see this coming? “I just… I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

It didn’t make sense.

There could be so many reasons why he would want to end it or the reasons why he couldn’t possibly want to end it, but she could only think of one.

“You said you loved me -,”

She was already crying.

“I didn’t mean it.”

She exhaled sharply. He wasn’t looking at her. There was nothing else she needed to hear from him.

He didn’t mean it.

With tears she didn’t try to wipe away, she turned and stormed off. He didn’t deserve to hear anything else from her and she didn’t deserve to be lied to by him.

“Alice, I -,”

At the faint sound of his voice calling after her, she walked faster so she couldn’t hear what he was trying to say.

He didn’t mean it.

[greywitch]

EVEN IF IT TAKES ALL NIGHT OR A HUNDRED YEARS

some pre-fragment of the deep sea picture drama shenanigans featuring c.c. x lelouch.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Of course I am." C.C. grabbed the two shirttails of Lelouch's blouse before he could finish pulling his arms through and dragged him closer. Lelouch grunted unhappily, pausing with his left arm at an awkward, uncomfortable angle in the gossamer sleeve as he shot C.C. a constipated glare.

Pretending to be none the wiser, she hummed, "Why wouldn't I be?"

As if to emphasize the point, she traced a finger down the flat plane of Lelouch's stomach, nail scraping lightly against pale, unblemished skin. C.C. could practically feel the goosebumps rising in her wake, the featherlight shiver ricocheting down his spine, as he yanked his arm through the rest of the fabric and jerked away again.

"Oi."

She laughed despite the warning in his voice and met disapproving violet with golden abandon and Chesire aplomb. Still so sensitive ten years later. She doubted that would change in another ten or even a hundred. Lelouch was stubborn like that, but so was she.

"Relax, Lelouch. I know we're on a time constraint," C.C. amended though the smirk never quite left her face. She pulled him close again, this time by the waistband of his satiny culottes. Lelouch let the motion carry him forward, releasing a drawn out sigh in the process. His hand took up his signature gesture, halfway between thinking and exasperation, with his fingers steepled against his forehead and his eyes shut against the sight of C.C. knotting his shirt and deliberately exposing his abdomen.

"You couldn't find something less... translucent? Or more... well, just, more?"

"It's your fault for not coming with me. And if I recall, you only said, 'whatever fits,' when I asked. Would you rather wear the dress?"

"Obviously not," he snapped, more chagrined than angry.

C.C. hummed again, testing the strength of her knot with a little tug. "I thought you'd have gotten used to this by now between the cross-dressing festival and that once at the Chinese Federation. Besides, it's not often that I get to see you like this. Can you blame me?"

Lelouch huffed like a put-upon child, crossing his arms low over his stomach as if to guard against C.C.'s mischief. "Now you're just starting to sound like Milly."

"Maybe she had the right idea." C.C. straightened and turned toward the duffel of supplies sitting on the floor. She dug out a purple shawl and handed it to him before continuing to root around. The studio they rented didn't have much by way of lighting, only the single naked bulb hanging from the middle of the ceiling and flickering in and out. It was modest accommodations but the closest they could get to the naval base as civilians. "Speaking of which, you never did make good on your promise. And I was so looking forward to being President of the Pizza Club."

"I never promised that."

"Oh, didn't you, Mr. Vice President?"

She found the accompanying headband for his outfit. Tossing it over her arm, she focused on fixing her own first as she pivoted to face Lelouch fussing over the wrinkles in his cloak and the tangled frills along the edge.

"Were you that looking forward to being a student?"

"I was. There wasn't much to look forward to being cooped up on the Ikaruga." Speaking of the Black Knights and Ashford Academy now felt like eons ago. C.C. was sure that was doubly true for Lelouch who'd literally gone to hell and back in the interim. "But I suppose I found a suitable alternative."

"And what's that?" Lelouch cocked his head at her, the knit of his eyebrows both a little curious and a little wary. His fingers nimbly worked at the knot of his shawl as he waited for the answer. C.C. let him wait, indulging in the dramatic pause as she finished smoothing her headband into place.

"President of the Annoy Lelouch Forever Club~♥" She adopted her high-pitched tone that never failed to get on his nerves and felt rather gratified when his eyebrow twitched. She didn't reflect on what she said until after she'd said it, the implication of forever slotting into her speech so easily that she wondered when she'd started thinking about them in those terms.

Lelouch didn't miss a beat. "Well, you certainly have a talent for it."

He reached for the hairband and visibly refrained from pulling a face at the (admittedly unnecessary) tassels.

"You'll look good," C.C. assured before kneeling back down to the duffel and pulling out the rest of their accessories. Lelouch sighed like a weak breeze behind her, all defeat and no defiance.

"What is this supposed to be?" He picked up the choker she laid on the ground.

"Just wound it around your neck and keep the pendant in the front."

"Is all of this necessary?"

"You want to be convincing, don't you?" C.C. grabbed two pairs of shoes from the sack and lifted them to the light. "Heels or flats?"

"Flats."

They finished dressing in silence. The sparse apartment echoed their brisk movements, shoes tapping against scuffed linoleum. They'd be leaving this place soon. She'd already packed their things, which wasn't much besides what they could carry on their backs. They were always on the move, so no one place kept them for long and nothing accumulated. But they always tried to bring a little home to each house. The framed picture of Nunnally, Suzaku, and Lelouch sat next to a neat stack of letters on the discounted ottoman she'd picked up at the flea market. A few origami cranes decorated the dining table. She'd stuck her Pizza Hut loyalty cards to the mini fridge with limited edition Cheese-kun magnets. These were the little things she hadn't packed yet that always went into the suitcases last.

One day, they would finish. The hundreds of fragments they'd already collected, the hundreds more still left—one day, they would have them all, their friends would be dead, and then what would happen? What was the after?

"You might still get the chance."

"Hm?" C.C. roused from her self-reflection, eyes focusing on the tablet being offered to her. It only took a glance for her to understand Lelouch's meaning. "You made progress on the next fragment?"

"Fragments. I believe there's more than one. The reports are inconsistent with one Geass user."

C.C. tugged on her earring absentmindedly as she read it. "An all-girls boarding school in Switzerland..." she murmured before the realization clicked into place, and a grin spread across her lips. "I thought you said you never wanted to cross-dress again."

Motioning Lelouch forward, she set the tablet back down and opened the palm of her other hand to reveal more earrings. Before Lelouch could say anything, she clarified, "They're clip-ons."

Lelouch shuffled forward, looking none-too-happy but standing still enough for C.C. to lean up and catch his earlobe.

"There’s a difference between want and need," he grumbled. "Anyway, there’s your opportunity."

"I think I'd make a better teacher, actually." Her voice had dropped to a low murmur at this distance, ghosting across Lelouch's cheek in light, playful breaths. Her bright amber eyes filled his vision, focused to his right. "That's your plan, right? Divide and conquer?"

“Why would you make the better teacher?” he scoffed and turned his head when she rocked back onto her heels to pick out the second set of studs.

“Clearly because I’m more knowledgeable.”

”In history, maybe.”

"And it’s not any fun being a student if you're not one with me."

Lelouch blinked. C.C.'s completely serious expression belied the teasing statement. “You’re ridiculous.”

”I’m the ridiculous one?” she laughed as she fastened the last hoop, and despite the mission looming over them, Lelouch couldn't help laughing too.

His watch beeped, the telltale signal snapping them back to reality. All traces of amusement immediately disappeared from his face as he silenced the sound. “We’ll discuss this later. It’s time.”

"Alright." C.C. backed away and picked up her duffel. She took one last thing from it and tossed it to Lelouch before zipping it up. "Don't forget your veil. I'll meet you at Point B in half an hour."

She'd already opened the door and stepped halfway across the threshold when a pressure on her wrist stopped her.

”Wait, C.C.”

”What is it?” C.C. glanced over her shoulder in time to watch Lelouch raise her hand and press the back of it to his mouth.

”Be careful.”

It wasn’t a kiss; it was softer than that, exceptionally gentle, a prayer not unlike the ones she whispered every morning before waking and every night before falling asleep. That their time would last a little longer beyond what C’s World would allow. Perhaps some things didn't need to be said. Perhaps the future could remain a mystery as long as she could have this present.

"Who do you think you're talking to?" C.C. laced their fingers together. "I'm C.C., and you're L.L., right?"

[deeisace]

Had a dream I was stuck at a train station (possibly in Tokyo? None of the writing was in English, anyway, and I didn't know how that might be, cs I got on the train at Central after work like normal) - we'd all been shepherded over to sit and wait for our train

And I had in my bag a little booklet that was printed with writing, as I read it I realised it was one of Grandma's stories - and, in the back, there was another bit glued in, that said that it was for Alan's birthday, 1944

They did know each other in 1944 I think, Alan was on my uncle Lionel's rugby or football I'm not sure but on his team anyway - cs the family had moved out to Bideford from London, with the war, and that's where Alan was from (where Wuz was, haha)

In the little booklet, the story was a bit odd (being a complete fabrication of my mind, of course), something about how with the war everything was closed (like now, I thought!) but that they'd be able to go out again soon

And then there was smth like, "is he a dancer or a lancer?" which surprised me even more than that it was a birthday present (my mum's family don't do birthdays at all, what with the witnesses), so I passed it over to my mum, who was suddenly sitting behind me, so she could read it, and took over her drawing of a diagram to show the kids sat next to her how we were related (they were cousins of hers or mine, in dream, I'm not sure which or who they were, nor if they really exist - so many cousins, I don't think I've actually met even half of them)

In the back, along with the little "for Alan's birthday, Millie, 1944" there was a little logo, like a printed logo thing, which was a loaf of bread on one side and an egg on the other, with B & G above, with some fiddly Victorian fancy bits around

Which I spose is their last names, Bird and Green, and the Madges (who Alan grew up with, his mum's family, cs his dad died young from mustard gas complications (or, well, a lung-based hold-over from WW1, I assume it wr mustard gas, I can't remember), in 1930, when Alan was a baby) were bakers, so the bread makes sense - I'm not sure where the egg for the Green family comes in, they were millers as was, and Millie's uncle Arthur (which I never fail to say like Ian Lavender) was a butcher, I think, but I'll have to have a look in my records for smth involving eggs

And, it wr a dream in any case, I'm thinking too much of it and I've only been awake 20 minutes

But it was a nice odd dream, if you discount the temporary panic of "where am I" and "how do I get home" - at least there weren't no horrible murder or nothing this time

Maybe it's time to pick up Grandma Millie's writing again, maybe that's what it's about

I've only got a couple left of the kids' stories here, from The Theatre People, but I can't go round to my grandad's flat to get the giant handwritten novel drafts, what with the train journey and everything, so that'll wait til the summer at least

It's waited twenty-odd years, at least, the novel, it can wait another six months or longer

[sugdenlovesdingle]

Since no-one is sending me vanity asks anymore (seriously, the threat of robron drabbles is going to make you stop?) here’s a drabble* anyway!

with a special shout out to @robandaaronsoulmates who corrupted my mind and made me write this ;)

----

History repeats (AO3)

“Dad... can I talk to you?” Seb asks, shuffling into the mill like the time when he was 13 and smashed his brand new phone messing around with Isaac in an old barn his parents had told him to stay away from.

Robert wipes his hands on a tea towel and turns around.

“Of course... is everything alright?”

Seb shrugs and sits down at the kitchen table.

“Where’s dad?”

“Work. He’ll be home soon. Tea’s almost ready if you want to grab a bite with us? Everyone’s out tonight. It’ll be just the three of us like when you were little.”

Seb smiles a little at that.

“What’s for tea then?”

“Spag bol. Veggie. Because David didn’t have mince meat and I didn’t feel like going to Tesco.”

“Sounds good.”

“So is that why you’re home for tea instead of with your girlfriend? Because you miss your dad’s cooking.”

“Would you believe me if I said yes?”

Robert laughs and turns down the heat under the pan.

“I like to think I know you better than that.” Robert sits down “Have you and Millie fallen out?”

Seb shakes his head.

“No. We’re fine. She’s fine. I think even Kim is starting to tolerate me.”

“That’s the Sugden charm.” Robert grins. “Eventually it works on everyone. Just look at your dad.”

“Look at his dad for what?” Aaron asks as he walks into the house. He kicks off his boots by the door and throws his jacket in the general direction of the coat rack. Some things never change.

“Seb was just telling me how the Sugden charm is starting to work on Kim Tate.” Robert explains, tilting his head up to accept a kiss hello.

“Oh so it’s Christmas dinner at the manor this year then?” Aaron asks but Seb shakes his head.

“I doubt it.”

“Why not?” Aaron asks

“You’re not moving away are you? I know Millie mentioned that job in Greece with her mum but...” Robert trails off.

“No... But I think I might have to move back into my old room...”

Robert and Aaron share a look.

“And why is that?”

“I... I don’t think she’ll want to live with me anymore...”

“Why not? I thought you were happy?”

“We are. Were... Are...” Seb drops his head on the table in frustration. “I just don’t know anymore. I messed up.”

Robert reaches over the table and squeezes Seb’s arm.

“Tell us what’s going on.”

“I can’t. You’ll be disappointed.”

“Not possible. Just tell us what’s on your mind.”

Seb slowly lifts his head and takes a deep breath.

“I... I’ve been seeing someone else... behind her back.”

Robert’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. Of all the things he thought Seb would say, that was not one of them.

“Well... I guess you’re more like me than I thought...”

“You’re not disappointed?”

“How can I? Your dad and I did the same thing...”

“This person you’ve been seeing...” Aaron starts. “Is it serious?”

Seb bites his lip.

“Chance would be a fine thing.” he says and suddenly Aaron is 30 years younger and talking to Paddy about this married man he’s been seeing.

“Are they... with someone too?” Robert asks carefully.

“No... Not anymore...”

“How long has it been going on?”

“That course I did last year? For work? They... He... was there too.”

“He?”

Seb nods.

“Aiden. He lives in Leeds. Now...”

“Now?”

“He lived in London. He moved. I met him on the first day of the course and we got talking and erm... he invited me back to his flat... and I went... and erm... we spent the full two weeks together.”

“But... you were showing us engagement rings when you came back after that course.” Aaron says. “You wanted to propose to Millie didn’t you?”

“I thought... I thought I could forget him. Get him out of my system and just settle down with Millie. I love her, I do. She’s great and our life is great and I bought the ring months ago but...”

“He’s special.” Robert guesses. Remembering exactly how he felt during his and Aaron’s affair.

Seb nods again.

“Yeah. I’ve been going to see him in London... I made up work trips and when he broke up with is ex I told Millie he needed a shoulder to cry on... But he did that for me. Because he loves me. And he moved to Leeds to be closer to me... but I messed up.”

Aaron nods slowly.

“What did you do?”

“I... I told him I had to stay with Millie. She... she was late... You know...”

“She’s pregnant?” Robert asks.

“No. False alarm. We found out a few days ago...” Seb says and looks down at his hands. “I’ve never been so relieved. I want kids... someday... but...”

“Not with her?”

“I guess not.” He drops his head on the table again. “I’m such a mess.”

Aaron pats him on the head.

“That runs in the family, mate.”

“Tell us about this Aiden.” Robert prompts and Seb lifts his head and tries to stop himself from smiling.

“He’s... He’s special... He gets me like no-one else does... He... I can tell him anything and everything and he just... he listens. He’s there for me. And he’s gorgeous.” Seb grins. “He even laughs at my jokes.”

“Well then it must be love. Your jokes are as bad as your dad’s.” Aaron teases and the three of them laugh.

“I think... you’ve made up your mind already. You just need to be honest.” Robert says after a few minutes. “With Millie, with Aiden, but most of all, with yourself.”

Seb bites his lip.

“I don’t want to hurt her... I do love her... I just... love him more.”

“I know. Trust me, I know. But there is no way out of this without someone getting hurt. Just be honest... with everyone... and maybe one day you’ll be able to just... be yourself with the person you love the most in the world.” Robert says and Aaron squeezes his knee under the table. “And just... let the past be in the past.”

“She’s going to hate me. Her family will hate me. Kim will kill me.”

“Maybe. But if you really love this Aiden, and want to be with him...” Robert starts and looks at Aaron. “Then you have to be honest. It’ll be worth it in the end.”

“And maybe you and Millie can work things out and even become friends in the future.” Aaron suggests.

Seb sighs.

“I doubt it...” he takes a deep breath and gets up from the table. “I think I have to go talk to Millie...”

“Good luck.” Robert says and gets up too to pull him into a hug. “We’re always here for you, remember that.”

“I know. Thanks dad. Both of you.”

“And tell Aiden we want to meet him.” Aaron tells him.

Seb blushes.

“I don’t even know if he still wants to be with me.”

“I’m sure he will. Just go talk to him.”

“I will... Keep your fingers crossed for me.” Seb says and leaves.

“Well... He really is my son.” Robert sighs.

“Our son.” Aaron corrects him. “And we figured it all out in the end, didn’t we?”

“Yeah I suppose so. It only took us two proposals, two weddings, and a vow renewal.“ Robert says, half joking.

“See? There is hope for him yet. If we can do this marriage thing, anyone can do it.”

--------

* bit longer than a drabble

Send me prompts!

[hispeculiartreasure]

All We’ve Got is Time - Chapter Six | B.B.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

AU: If They’d Survived/Post-War/Window Washer!Bucky Barnes

Rating: All Audiences

Word count: 2,901

Chapter 6/24

Warnings: Can second-hand embarrassment be a warning???

AN: This chapter was one of the first scenes I thought up when this idea was born. It was so much fun to write.

As a heads up, I won’t be posting a new chapter next week. I am going to be insanely busy -  as in, leaving the house at 6AM and running around like crazy until 11PM kind of week. Between my grandpa slowly deteriorating and my niece being born within the next 10 days, I’ve got too much going on to give posting the care and attention I want to. Chapter 7 will be posted on June 6. Thanks for sticking with me 💕

Chapter Five

‘All We’ve Got is Time’ Masterlist

The below adorable image was found in this super interesting article!

“Well hey there you smitten kitten,” the sweet, curly-haired Dorothy purrs.

You scrunch your nose at the name, moving to take a seat at a table in the breakroom. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it means.”

“Now tell us Suzy is full of it and you haven’t seen this boy five times since Saturday,” Connie scoffs before sipping her glass-bottled Coca Cola.

Your unamused gaze turns to Suzy who says, “Sorry!” in a very not-sorry voice. “You’ve been coy all week about it, we are equally invested in this relationship. They deserve to know.”

“Excuse me, you’ve been on how many dates in the last week with this boy?” Charity squawks, taking her lunch out of the fridge.

“It’s actually been less than a week.”

“Suzy, how is that helpful?” you say through an exasperated sigh.

“Five out of the last six nights is what you said, right? Sounds pretty serious.”

“To quote her roommate: ‘He must be something special since this is the most she’s been out of the apartment since move-in day’.” You were going to kill Suzy.

You grind out, “I’m not introducing you to any of my other friends if you’re going to use them against me.”

“If I remember correctly, you claimed you didn’t have any other-” The ringing of a telephone interrupts her. “Damn it, that’s mine.” She scoots out of the kitchen and you can hear her pick up the receiver. You zone out of the other womens’ discussion for a moment to hear Suzy say, “Who is this? Oh, hiiiii. How did you- Uh-huh.”

Tall, dark, and gorgeous Frances brings you back to the topic at hand. “Newbie, you need to give us the scuttlebutt.”

“Uh, I mean. . . I’ve been having a really nice time with him.”

“Get out of here with that dodginess. Come on, give us poor single girls something to hang onto.”

“Honestly, we’ve just been getting to know each other. We’ve had good conversations over dinner, walked around the park, perused some art galleries. It’s. . . been lovely. He’s a sweetheart.”

A chorus of “awwww!”s fills the room.

“You know we’re going to ask you a million questions, may as well give us as many details as you can now.”

Resigned to your fate you lean back in your chair, mentally searching for harmless information. “Umm. . . he’s from Brooklyn. He served with the army, was in Europe for the last few years. Has sisters, both parents still alive. Was a good student and an athlete. From how much he talks about his friends, he’s extremely loyal. But that’s really all I’ve got.”

“Sounds like a real dreamboat.”

“Did he give ya a smooch yet?” Connie asks around a mouthful of sandwich.

“Connie.” You know your flat tone won’t do a thing to discourage her.

“That’s a no.” She continues in a sing-song voice, “Which means it’s co-ming!”

“He hasn’t been affectionate at all?” Alice, the tiny shy one pipes up.

“He kissed my hand after our first date and I’ve gotten a few pecks on the cheek when he drops me back home. Usually when we walk and cross streets he holds my hand, or at least offers his arm.”

“A gentleman. That must be nice,” Millie, the baby of the bunch at 19, snorts.

“Do you not want to kiss him?” Connie, ever the one to get straight down to business.

You look down, can feel your heart beating fast. “I-I, uh. I. . . of course I want to kiss him.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“There’s not a problem. You’ve all seen him, you know he’s handsome. The moment just hasn’t arrived yet. I don’t want to force it and get nervous or weird.”

“You’re making me blush, Sixth Floor,” a smooth, deep voice brings the lunch-time chatter to a halt.

You turn so fast in your chair you think you may have given yourself whiplash.

The subject of your conversation is in the threshold of the breakroom, one shoulder propped against the door jam, hands full of a stunning bouquet of your favorite flowers. Suzy peers over his shoulder, ruby-red lips curled in a satisfied smirk.

You leap to your feet, smoothing down your skirt and patting your hair. “Buc-Hi!,” you say, your tone slightly shrill with embarrassment. “W-what are you doing here?!” Your face drops, thinking back to Flannery’s two warnings about male visitors in the office. “You’re not supposed to be here,” you whisper-shout - as if the office manager would pop out from behind the sofa and catch you.

“Relax, Newbie. Flannery’s out at that executives lunch, remember?” Suzy steps even with Bucky, sharing a mischievous glance. “He wanted to surprise you so he enlisted the sneakiest dame to smuggle him in.”

“And I’ll forever be in your debt, ma’am,” Bucky banters, a cheeky grin in place.

Suzy eyes him up and down, then turns to look at you. “I like this one.” The room of women collapses into giggles at her brazenness.

“Watch yourself, Suze,” you playfully warn as you approach Bucky.

“For you, ma’am,” he offers the bouquet.

Breathing in the blooms you whisper, “You remembered.”

“‘Course I did,” he whispers back. “I called Suzy from the drug store across the street to see if the coast was clear. I wouldn’t just barge in with Mrs. Flannery on duty, I promise.”

“Well, are you going to introduce us to this delightful fella or not?” Dorothy titters.

You turn back to the room, flowers in one hand while the other sneaks into the crook of Bucky’s elbow. “Apparently you’ve met Suzy. But here we’ve got Charity, Frances, Alice, Millie, Dorothy, and Connie.” Each girl greets him in their own way, some smiling, some waving. Connie just stares at him.

“Ladies, this is Bucky.”

Connie lets out a small gasp. “Wait. Bucky Barnes?”

“Uh. . . yeah?” You’re slightly unnerved. Do they know each other?

“The Bucky Barnes?! Of the Howling Commandos?!” She’s on her feet, eyes wide.

You can feel Bucky stiffen beneath your hand before he shuffles his feet.

“Yes ma’am,” he replies lowly, directing his gaze to a fixed point on the floor.

Connie practically shrieks while several other girls’ eyebrows are raised, obviously affected by her words.

“Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh-“

“Connie, what are you going on about?” A wave of protectiveness washes over you, hand tightening on his arm.

“You have been going on dates with Bucky freakin’ Barnes and you haven’t known?!”

“Known what?”

“The Howling Commandos! Captain America!” She gestures wildly at your indifference. “Have you been living under a rock the last few years?”

“No, I’ve been living in a factory the last few years. We didn’t exactly sit around discussing the paper,” you can’t help the bite to your words, not enjoying her tone or Bucky’s unease.

He clears his throat. “My last few years of service, I was in a special operations unit.”

“With Captain America!” Connie exclaims, practically jumping up and down. “He’s, like, his childhood best friend!”

The girls go into a frenzy, talking over each other to ask questions or give compliments. Unsurprisingly, Connie’s voice silences everyone else’s.

“So. Is he single? Because he’s so cute, I really think we’d get along - I’m very patriotic and I-“

“I’m sorry, ma’am. He’s, uh- spoken for.”

“It’s the girl from the compass, isn’t it? I thought that’d be over by now. What if-“

Bucky interrupts her prattling. “Trust me - Connie, right? - that’s a bear you don’t wanna poke. It’s solid.”

“Oh.”

You had never seen Constance Adler deflate, but you’re pretty sure that’s what was happening now. She almost looks like a kicked puppy and normally you’d feel bad for her - if she hadn’t dropped a metaphorical bombshell on you.

“Bucky,” Suzy steps in, laying a hand on your shoulder, “We appreciate all you’ve done the last few years. Newbie, why don’t you show him your desk and find a vase for those flowers, yeah?”

You nod and tug Bucky out of the break room. Several steps down the hall you hear Suzy speaking in a hushed, stern tone she usually reserved for belligerent businessmen. Minutes ago, you wanted to strangle her for prodding you. But she was respectful of boundaries and definitely felt that one had been crossed. Now all you wanted was to wrap her in a hug of gratitude.

Your brain finally catches up to the new information you’ve just been given. Suddenly, Bucky made a lot more sense to you. Special operations meant specially horrible circumstances. Knowing now that he’d seen combat as well brought his struggles into sharp relief for you. And he had to handle everything in more of a public light than the average soldier.

“I’m sorry about that, Bucky. Connie can be . . . a lot.”

He shakes his head, rolls his shoulders. “Aw, it’s nothing. I’ve met worse.” His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes and your heart stings for him. “I was going to tell you soon, I swear. That’s not how I wanted you to find out.”

“You don’t owe me a thing. We can talk about it later.” You reach your desk and empty a glass that held your pens and pencils, swapping them out for the flowers. “These really are gorgeous. You didn’t have to do this.”

He nods, shoving his hand into his pockets. “I know. But I wanted to. Hoped they’d brighten your desk.”

“Thank you, Bucky. This was. . . incredibly sweet of you,” you murmur, even though you’re the only two in the bullpen.

Finally, his smile seems genuine. “You’re welcome.” He takes a moment to survey the office, coming to perch against your desk. “I’ve gotta admit, it’s strange being on this side of the glass.”

“It’s strange having you on this side of the glass. Not that I mind,” you add quickly, terrified of saying the wrong thing. A beat passes, Bucky staring at the floor, you staring at the flowers.

With the barest hint of amusement Bucky finally speaks up. “So, you think I’m handsome, huh?”

Bringing your hands to cover your eyes you let out a groan, prompting a manly chuckle. “God, that’s embarrassing.”

“Nah, I’m flattered really. It’s not every day a fella like me hears that from the prettiest girl in the room.”

“Okay, calm down, sweet talker,” you playfully nudge an elbow into his shoulder. “Ya know. . . you could’ve at least told me your best friend was Captain America,” you tease.

He tosses his head back in mock disgust, jarring a strand of hair loose. “To be fair, I did mention him on our first date. Several times, in fact.”

“Because I was definitely supposed to make the connection between your scrawny friend who was gravely ill his entire life and America’s Hope.”

“I’m disappointed, frankly. Seems like a pretty easy jump to me, ma’am.”

“How could I ever make it up to you, sir?”

“There is something I had in mind. . .” He leans in close. “Dinner tomorrow night?”

“I’m gonna have to check my calendar, Barnes,” you sigh, nose inches away from his. Those blue eyes search your own before they flit to your lips for a split second.

The moment is ruined when Suzy barrels into the room.

“Red alert, red alert! Flannery’s coming!”

“WHAT!” You shout, jumping away from Bucky. “She’s not supposed to be back for another 20 minutes!”

“Well evidently she didn’t enjoy herself because I saw her out the window of the breakroom. If Flannery finds out he’s here, she’s gonna bust your chops.”

The sound of grinding gears from the elevator shaft drives the point home. You look between Suzy and Bucky, frozen in your spot, mouth agape.

“I’m sorry, this was a bad idea-” Bucky starts.

“No time, hide! GIRLS OUT HERE!” Suzy immediately takes control. A stampede arrives from the breakroom in response to Suzy’s urgent tone. “Flannery is on her way up. We need to get him out of this office without her seeing him. Run interference, hide him behind you, I don’t care - under no circumstances can he be caught, capiche?”

A chorus of ‘capiche’ answers her.

“You,” she points in your direction, “stay at your desk so she doesn’t suspect you.”

Ding.

The elevator doors sweep open before anyone can elaborate on the plan. Out the corner of your eye you see Bucky vault over your desk to remain unseen. Instantaneously a few typists congregate around you, the rest act as subtle “checkpoints” in a trail toward the stairs.

Suzy approaches Flannery, who stands ominously at the front of the office, suspicion wrinkling her forehead. “Flanny, you’re back!”

“Susan-”

“Aw, you know I hate my full name. How many times do I have to tell you to call me Suzy?” Your friend stands directly in front of her, blocking the view to your desk.

You lean down, catching Bucky’s eye. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “See you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, doll,” he winks up at you, then turns to crouch-crawl to the next desk.

“I assume as many times as I have to tell you never to call me ‘Flanny’,” you hear the office manager practically growl.

“Of course, yes ma’am. Lunch go good?” Alice and Dorothy converge to talk over a file to cover Bucky’s journey to the next desk.

“Lunch went well, yes.”

Dorothy waves Frances over, evidently needing her opinion on the wording of a letter. Sheltered behind their skirts they walk Bucky to Millie’s desk which happens to sit adjacent to an enormous filing cabinet. Your window washer ducks behind it, allowing the typists to shift around - doing their best to avoid moving like a herd.

“So why the rush back?” Suzy follows Flannery to the front desk, watching Bucky’s progress surreptitiously.

“I can only handle so much male arrogance in one sitting.”

“Oh, I hear that. Say, I think that mold may be back in the breakroom, I swear I saw a spot of something.” Suzy raises her voice, “Wanna come with me to check it out?”

Flannery sighs deeply, tucking her handbag into a desk drawer. “I suppose.”

This was it. Suzy continues jabbering at Flannery, walking side by side with her. She jerks her head toward the stairwell door and Frances whispers to Bucky, “Go, go, go!”

He’s on his feet but still bent at the waist, booking it to the door.

“Wait,” Flannery turns on her heel back toward the front. Everyone sucks a breath in, thinking Bucky’s been sighted. At the syllable he had dropped to his knees and slid across the floor - landing with his back flat against the front side of Flannery’s desk. Eyes wide, you watch Flannery stride to the desk, reaching beneath it to pull out a glass bottle. “The janitors gave me a chemical mixture they used on it last time.” She was mere inches from Bucky - if she had the super-sonar hearing everyone accused her of she would definitely have heard his heart beating out of his chest.

With the bottle in hand she takes a few steps back into the bullpen before taking stock of everyone’s tension. “What’s going on?” she asks. On his tiptoes Bucky creeps to the stairwell door. Just a few more steps and we’re home-free, you try to calm yourself. Flannery makes to turn back to the front; at that point everyone was certain your job was done-for. At the last moment Connie lets out a deafening screech.

All eyes are on her, including Flannery. Then she screams, “RAT!” Every typist in the room follows suit, insisting they saw it too, hopping up on their chairs or desks.

Bucky reaches the stairwell and with one more wink in your direction, he disappears.

You breathe a deep sigh of relief from your seat atop your desk. You turn to Connie and mouth “Thank you”. She nods in return and says silently, “Sorry”.

“Ladies, ladies! Calm down! It’s just an animal!” Your office manager is absolutely fed up with this day, with these women, with this job. Quiet descends on the bullpen. “What has gotten you all ridiculously hysterical today?” The stairwell door clicks shut, causing Flannery to spin in its direction. She scans the face of every person, looking for someone to break. Much to your satisfaction, everyone is stoic.

It’s in this moment that you find yourself genuinely glad to be in this office with these women. Every one stepped up to save your job, your livelihood. And everyone was excited about this new relationship once they saw how happy you’d been. If your adrenaline hadn’t been pumping wildly you might have had to hold back tears.

But then Flannery is walking up to your desk. She gestures to the flowers Bucky had brought you. “And where did these come from?”

Suzy swoops in. “Her mother called in to have them delivered, isn’t that precious of her?”

“Is today a special occasion?”

“No ma’am, just because,” you shrug, stroking a few petals.

Flannery hums in a tone that says she isn’t entirely convinced. “Alright Susan. Show me where you saw the mold.”

“Right this way, Flanny.”

The pair disappears into the breakroom and every typist slumps and groans.

“That’s all the excitement I need for the next week,” Alice pants, hand to her chest.

Charity throws a smirk in your direction. “Newbie, that boy is trouble in the best kind of way.”

“You’re not wrong, Charity.” You turn to the flower arrangement again. “You’re not wrong.”

Chapter Seven

Tags:

@abovethesmokestacks @ursulaismymiddlename @hiddles-rose @connorshero @barnesrogersvstheworld @thisismysecrethappyplace @palaiasaurus64 @fanfic-diaries @fangirlfictionmain @creideamhgradochas @moderapoppins @lookwhatyoumademequeue @crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons @thinkwritexpress-official @fearless2tobeme @laneygthememequeen @past-perfect-future-tense @drhughgrection @wildsageleon @promarvelfangirl @anditwasjustus @p3nny4urth0ught5 @just-add-butter @katiemarkes1942 @usernamemingmei @the-canary @thorfanficwriter @blueskiesbleakeyes @silverwing2522 @satansmushroom @nerd-without-a-cause @firewolf-marvels @reginaphlanageadams @kiliakit @forsaken-letters @bouquet-o-undercaffeinated-roses @part-time-patronus @biavastarr @ellaenchanted91 @ihopeyousteponarosepetal @handfulof-roses @bloatedandlonly @barnestruck @itsbuckysworld @writemarvelousthings @havanaangel @animeflower26 @igotkatiepowers @clockworkherondale

[jk-unless]

Boleyn There, Done That

Pairing: Millie O'Connell x Fem!Reader

Warnings: A bit of angst

~♡~

Ah,October 13th - one of the worst days in many people's lives.Well I might be milking it a bit,but you on the other hand definitely have every right to be pretty sad.

It's your girlfriend Millie's,along with Courtney's,Aimie's,and Maiya's,last day as members of Six the musical.

You might have not been nearly as upset if the musical wasn't how you met Millie in the first place.You filled in for Jaye'J once a long time ago and was almost immediately made an alternate.You hit it off pretty well with everyone,but there was something special about Millie.It didn't take long for you to get together,and it's been a wild (yet beautiful) ride from there.

Sadly,Jaye'J had gotten sick the day before.So now,you're up to the challenge of not crying during you're last performance all together.

As all of you got ready,the girls notice that you were being abnormally quiet.You were usually as hype as Millie,it's why you guys fit so well together!

They didn't comment on it,though.Considering the fact that they already knew the reason for a tight-lipped Y/N.Millie came in 5 minutes before the show was meant to began and you made sure to not make eye contact with her.

In fact,that's what you did for the entire show.Doing so isn't necessarily easy,considering your characters were suppose to interact quite a bit.But Millie's no idiot,she noticed your strange behavior as soon as you got on stage.

You successfully made it through the show with only making eye contact with her once.

That is,until Megasix came up.

After you sung Catherine's part,you tried to move out of Millie's way,but she grabbed your hand and began dancing with you.She swung your interlaced hands happily as she sung and your tear ducts finally gave out.Mid-lyric,she turned to you,saw your tears,and quickly embraced you.The crowd 'aww'ed as Maiya took over for her and you and Mille rocked gently as she tried to make you feel better.

You were eventually alright and went on with the show,but Millie stayed by your side the entire time.At the very end of the show,everyone group hugged,you being in the middle.

Once you got back stage,Millie pulled you into her lap and kissed your forehead.

"I had no idea you were so upset about this,babe!You know we'll still be seeing each other pretty much every day,right?" Millie asked.

"But it's not the same as performing with you,love.Millie I really am excited for you and will be by your side every step of the way,but I'm gonna miss you being my Anne and...me being your,well,everyone else." You explained.

You both laughed and held each other tighter.

"Well,if it'll help,we can have concerts of our own at our flat." She suggested,making you laugh again.

"I'd love that,Anne Boleyn."

"I love you, Catherine of Aragon."

[paperprinc3]

You: Can I come over and hang out? My dad is playing poker with his pals. KR [29 Modern AU- childhood friends]

Stranger: You must! I've just made Pizza. AH (31)

You: You are perfect. You really are. I'll bring some beers. KR

Stranger: I'm really not but you keep saying it so I might believe it one day. AH Grab the beer, pizza is ready in about 10 minutes! AH

You: I'll keep saying it then. KR So like pizza and a movie? We can watch a sappy romance I know you secretly love those. KR

Stranger: Oh god please don't make me watch another one, we both know that the last time I was the one crying and you were looking for tissues. AH

You: This time I have tissues. I don't mind if you cry all over me. I'm used to it. KR

Stranger: You'll regret it soon enough, man.. AH Alright, what if we watch 'Spaceballs'? That one is funny. AH

You: YES! I mean we can sure. KR

Stranger: Haha, somebody is excited. AH I think it's on Netflix... let me know when you're here. AH

You: I love that film. And I love hanging out with you. KR Are you in your pj's already? I bet you are. KR

Stranger: These are my favorite evenings you know? Just us hanging out, eating pizza and watching a movie. AH Actually not, I'm just running around in boxers but I'll put some pj's on so feel free to bring yours. Wanna stay over night? AH

You: I like it when we go out to restaurants too. But you are a really good cook Armie. KR I don't mind staying over if I can be the big spoon tonight. KR

Stranger: Yeah that too. But this is more comfy. And the pizza is making itself so... it's pretty easy. AH How could you /not/ be the big spoon, you're taller than me! AH

You: I agree it's more comfy. KR I like wrapping my arms around you. You're very huggable.  KR

Stranger: I noticed, I feel like I'm your pillow sometimes. AH No wonder my family thinks we're dating.. AH

You: A pillow you could be good. I sleep best beside you. KR They do? KR

Stranger: Do you? Well, sometimes you snore so I'd say that's a sign you're comfortable. AH Yeah well... I didn't bring a girlfriend home in a very long time and you stay the night now and then and I talk about you often. AH

You: I'm a heavy sleeper? KR Wait what girlfriend? You like girls? KR

Stranger: Sometimes. It's funny to watch. AH No girlfriend, idiot! That's what I was just saying. AH

You: I'm confused. KR

Stranger: Why? AH

You: Do you like girls? I don't remember you having any girlfriends. I've known you since I was a baby. KR

Stranger: I had a sort of girlfriend when I went on those two months africa holidays with my parents when I was sixteen. We were more like friends but you know how it is. "Oh Armie, do you like her? Like... LIKE her?" AH So I was thinking that maybe I /did/... we kissed. That was about it. AH

You: I see. KR I'm a little upset you didn't tell me. But I probably wouldn't have handled it well back then. Teenage me was not very stable. KR

Stranger: I didn't think it was important.. sorry. AH What do you mean with 'not stable'? It wouldn't have affected our friendship. AH

You: Of course it's important. You're my best friend. KR I mean I wasn't on the right meds back then. I'd get upset over small things and lash out. KR

You: [brb]

Stranger: I know.. but now you are. And I'm clearly over girls. AH Hurry up now, pizza is ready! AH

You: I'm coming. I made an overnight bag. KR That's good because I don't share. KR

Stranger: Haha, the pizza? Or me? AH Alright, I'll warm the sofa in the meantime. AH

You: You. Obviously. KR I have my keys I'll let myself in. KR

Stranger: Well the good thing is that you don't need to share. AH Cool, then I'll stay on the sofa and pet Millie, she just made herself comfortable on me. AH

You: Don't say that. I might stay forever. KR

Stranger: I wouldn't mind that. AH

You: Oh? KR Do you mean that? KR

Stranger: You being here 24/7? Not at all.AH

You: Yeah? Even though there is just one bed? KR

Stranger: Oh we're over that, aren't we? AH

You: Well yes. But you'd really not be able to get a girlfriend if I moved in.. KR

Stranger: Hey, are you making fun of me? I thought we talked about that girlfriend topic, I'm not interested. AH Come on now, get on that sofa here! AH

You: Or a boyfriend. KR I'm coming. I got you something nice. Ice cream. KR

Stranger: Well I'm not really looking for one at the moment.. AH OMG you're allowed to move in immediately. AH

You: That's a shame. I'd date you. KR

Stranger: You would? Seriously? AH You could do so much better. AH

You: I would. I've been in love with you forever. KR

Stranger: That's what I'm not looking for somebody, for I want /you/. AH

Stranger: Now... this all escalated quickly huh? AH

You: It didn't feel right moving in without you knowing. KR

Stranger: Haha you sweet idiot! Now you have to, you know? AH

You: Yes. I will. KR I'm going to come kiss you. KR

Stranger: Shit, okay now please.. come here. AH

You: [Paras?]

Stranger: (please, can you start or should I?)

You: [Can you start?]

Stranger: (sure)

Stranger: Hux still held his phone in hand, staring down at the small device. Kylo had just told him that he loved him, he still couldn't wrap his head around it.. but soon enough he'd wrap his arms around him, he decided. The pizza was on two plates on the table and Hux had to stop Millie from trying to get a bite before he got up, picked the cat up in his arms and started walking around, brushing his fingers through her ginger fur until she started purring. He was nervous, excited, happy and anxious, all at the same time.

You: Kylo smiled as he opened the door to Hux's flat, carrying two bags with him. It felt good admitting things that had been unspoken for a long long time. Hux hadn't said he loved him back. But Kylo knew Hux loves him. As Hux said previously they were pretty much boyfriends already going on dates and holding hands and sleeping next to each other. Kylo walked into the livingroom. "Hey Armie." He said wrapping his arms around Hux who was standing with his back to him. Kylo pressed a kiss to his cheek, taking care with the cat as he did so.

Stranger: Hux had stopped by the window, looking outside. He was so busy thinking things over that he missed it when Kylo came inside and only realised when arms wrapped around his waist and he jumped with a yelp, dropped Millicent and the cat ran off immediately, offended. "Kylo, oh god!" he gasped and turned around in his arms, almost giggling. "You idiot..." he laughed under his breath. His cheeks were flushed and he wasted no time, cupped Kylo's face with both hands and pulled him into a kiss.

You: Kylo kissed him back happily. "I'm sorry. I'll apologies to your baby later. Right now I just want to kiss you." He said   leaning in close for another kiss and another. "You taste like candy. It's strange. We're usually tipsy when we kiss. Or half asleep." Kylo took his hand and went over to the sofa.

[chickensarentcheap]

Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 16

TITLE: Love and War

Warnings: profanity, mental illness

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @alievans007, @tragiclyhip, @miss-smutty​

“You know, I’m really fucking sick of your cheating,” Tyler snarls.

“I am NOT cheating! “ Esme cries, and refuses to make eye contact with the man sitting beside her; aware of the temper that’s slowly boiling. He’s agitated; eyes narrowed, shoulders tense, jaw tightly clenched. She’s seen and heard it all before; the bitterness and the irritation and the rash jump to conclusions. “You’re imagining things!”

“Bullshit I’m imagining it. I have eyes you know. I CAN see. And what I’m seeing? You’re cheating.”

“Listen, I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but there’s no cheating happening. You’re just pissed.”

“Damn right I’m pissed. I know what you’re up to. I can’t fucking believe you think you can get away with it. I know YOU. I know when something’s up. And something is up.”

She rolls her eyes. “The only thing that is ‘up’ is your temper. Take it down a notch, Australian. Or I’ll take YOU down a notch.”

“I’d love to see you try,” he scoffs. “What other tricks do you have up your sleeve? What other shady shit are you going to pull?”

“There you go with your paranoia again. There’s nothing going on. No shady shit. Can’t you just accept that you’re losing?”

“I’m losing my mind is what I’m losing.”

A derisive snort. “Not much left to lose.”

He scowls. “I have had just about enough of your lip.”

“What are you going to do? Stab me? Shoot me? Throw a grenade at me?”

“I’m going to beat your ass is what I’m going to do. Go all fucking HAM on you.”

“You’re going to start now? Have you been napping for the last hour?”

“Is that a shot at my age? I’m pretty sure that was a shot at my age.”

“It was a shot at your poor skills and your lapses of judgement. You’re slowing down. No wonder you’re suffering so badly.”

“I’m going to make you suffer in a second.”

“Bring it. There’s nothing you got that I can’t handle.”

It’s been sixty minutes of this. The snarling and the scowling and bickering back and forth; nasty exchanges fuelled by his hurt feelings and damaged ego and her refusal to back down or admit any wrongdoing. It’s a battle of both wills and personalities; two strong and resilient yet extremely stubborn people, neither giving the other an ounce of sympathy or allowing any breathing room. And it comes to a head; a growled ‘fuck!’ on his behalf followed by the xBox controller being tossed onto the cluttered coffee table in pure frustration. Letting loose a groan of both defeat and annoyance, he leans back against the couch and rakes both hands through his hair and then runs his palms over his face.

“Cry some more!” Esme shouts, and gleefully bounces up and down on the cushion beside him. “Unleash your inner bitch baby! Because you just got knocked the fuck out. AGAIN.”

“I really, really, REALLY do not like you right now.”

“It’s not my fault you can’t handle defeat." She reaches for the open bag of red licorice that sits on the arm of the sofa; yanking a strand out and pointing it at him before taking an aggressive bite from it. “That you’re way too competitive even with the stupidest of shit.”

“This!” He wildly gestures towards the flat screen television across the room. “Is NOT stupid shit!”

“It’s a goddamn video game, Tyler. Stop taking this so seriously.”

“It isn’t just a video game,” he argues. “It’s my fucking pride! My manhood!”

“I highly doubt your manhood is in any danger because your wife beats you at Call of Duty. You need to simmer down, son. I can’t help it that I’m THAT good.”

“Is this what you do all day back home? When I’m not around? You hone your video game skills?”

“No. I just happen to have the magic touch. I can’t help it that I’m a natural. I even beat TJ AND Millie and you know how good those two are.”

He places his hands behind his head and laces his fingers together. Sighing heavily and then turning his gaze towards the ceiling. “They’re amateurs compared to me.”

“Well you’re the one who has been looking like the amateur, so…”

He shoots an annoyed glare in his direction.

“Look, in real life you may be the king when it comes to this shit; shooting people and beating the shit out of them. But in video game land? I’m the fucking master. And you WILL accept defeat and bow down to me.”

“Like fuck I will.”

“You know the rules. You’re the one who wanted to play with these kinds of stakes. Now get to it. Pay your dues to the true Queen.”

Sighing heavily, he reluctantly gets to his feet, fingers pausing on his belt buckle.

“Do it,” Esme orders. “All is fair in love and war.”

“You know, this isn’t over yet. Even without these on, I won’t be totally naked. Which means you haven’t won a damn thing.”

“I’ve won five out of seven games. You have way less clothes on than me. Now suck it up and take them off.”

“Fine,” he huffs, and angrily yanks the leather from its clasp and rips the belt from the loops on his jeans; glaring at her as he tosses the item aside. “Happy?”

“Pants too.”

“Pants and belts are two separate things. I only need to take one off.”

“Pants and belts go together. They count as ONE item.”

He frowns. “Says who?”

“Says the rules.”

“Whose rules?”

“Listen, I don’t make them, I just enforce them. A belt isn’t a piece of clothing. It’s an accessory. So it is counted WITH the pants. Stop being such a baby and play by the rules!”

“Your imaginary rules you mean. I didn’t make you take your underwear off when you lost YOUR pants. Aren’t those an accessory? Shouldn't they have come off too?”

“Underwear can be worn alone.”

“You can’t go out with just underwear on, Me. Give me a break.”

“You can walk around the house in just underwear. But you don’t walk around in just a belt now, do you? Stop whining, suck it up, and drop your drawers.”

“You’re a pain in my ass,” he grumbles, and finally relents; popping open the button and reaching for the zipper.

“Yeah baby!” she hollers, and scrambles up onto her knees; whistling noisily and once more excitedly bouncing up and down. “That’s what I’m talking about! Take ‘em off! Let me see that sexy ass of yours! This is way better than any peeler bar!!”

“If you’re going to objectify me, shouldn’t you be tucking money into my underwear?”

“You don’t wear any. Where am I supposed to tuck it? In your ass crack? Does it work like a debit machine? I just slide my card in? Is that how it works? I have to slip something up your butt?”

“You come anywhere near my ass with the intention of slipping something into it…”

“Like you’ve never enjoyed a little ass play. Don’t act so innocent. You damn well know you don’t mind a finger up there every now and then. Don’t act like you’ve never allowed it to happen.”

“I was drunk.”

“Each time? Something like a dozen? You were drunk EACH time? Listen, there’s nothing wrong with admitting it. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with having that kind of kink. It’s only when I’m going down on you and you’ve been extra….well...EXTRA.”

“Enough! Why do we have to talk about it? Isn’t it enough to just to do it?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Does it make you uncomfortable? Discussing butt stuff? Well now you know how it feels. Not literally, because your dick is way bigger than my finger. So you DON’T know how it feels. Now shut up and do what I say. Drop your pants!”

Sighing, he slides the zipper all the way down and allows the denim to slide off his hips and ass; letting it pool at his ankles before kicking them off.

“Wait a second…” her eyes narrow and she points the remains of her licorice strip in his direction. “What the fuck are those?”

A grin plays at the corners of his mouth. “What’s what?”

“Those.” She gestures at the extra layer of clothing. “What the hell, Tyler James…”

“It’s a pair of those UnderArmour things you bought me. You said I should start wearing them. That they’ve been sitting in the drawer since we bought this place. I’m finally wearing them.”

“You’re supposed to wear them outside! To keep you warm! You don’t wear them in the house!”

“Says who? I can wear them where the fuck I want.”

“You…” she snarls, and glares at him. “...you did this intentionally. As soon as you declared this strip Call of Duty, you went upstairs and put those on. You weren’t wearing them earlier. I KNOW what you wore out. And I saw you take those clothes off when we got home from picking up the food and you were NOT wearing those underneath. You sneaky bastard.”

“Don’t hate the player,” he says, and drops down onto the couch and reaches for the controller. “Hate the game.”

“You absolute dick. I can’t believe you did that. Now THAT’S cheating.”

“It’s not cheating. It was purely a strategic move. And you call me an amateur.”

“You went calculating mercenary on me. You pulled out THAT card. You shit!”

“You may be kicking my ass at the game, but I outsmarted you. I’ve always been able to. Haven’t you realized that by now?”

“Oh, it’s on,” she declares, and snatches up her own controller and plops down beside him. Scowling and moving away when he attempts to slide closer to her. “Don’t even think about it. We’re enemies right now. Mortal enemies. Your treachery will not go unpunished.”

“And you say I’M taking this too seriously?”

“You totally upped the ante. You crossed a line, mister. Accusing me of cheating and all along it was you that was up to no good. I see how it is.”

“Does it make it any better if I tell you that I love you?”

“Save your ass kissing. Because when I win, I’m going to make you get on your knees and pucker up. You have no idea what you’ve done.”

“I’m not scared of you. Much.”

“Be afraid. Be very afraid. I will destroy you.”

Grinning, he reaches over and presses the start button on her controller. “Bring it, short stuff.”

*****

She emerges victorious. Easily handing him a crushing defeat that leaves her still clad in an oversized plain shirt and wool socks and him relegated to stripping off the last layer of clothing. And his smirk is one of both annoyance and amusement as he watches her, standing on the couch with a foot on either side of his thighs and partaking in her victory celebration; a mixture of wildly tossing her hair -or what’s left of it -around and suggestively bumping and grinding her hips while repeatedly chanting: “I did it, I did! I beat you, I did!”. She’s had a little too much to drink; enjoying nearly three quarters of a bottle of wine and then indulging in two hot chocolates infused with Kahlua. And between her somewhat inebriated state causing poor coordination and her penchant for being clumsy on even her best and most sober of days, he keeps a firm, protective hold on the back of her calves. The last thing he needs is a trip to the ER and an awkward explanation of just how she fell and busted her head open. In Telluride she’d once slipped on loose stone in the driveway and went down hard; catching the back of her head on one of the truck’s running boards and creating a hell of a gash in her scalp. And for someone that had spent years in the military and on the job and who’d inflicted gnarly injuries and gruesome deaths on others, he’d been the one close to panicking; convinced he’d seen he’d never seen so much blood in his entire life and nearly hyperventilating at the mere thought of her being hurt. She’d been the calm one; trying to talk him down on the way to the hospital while he drove with one hand on the wheel and the other holding a blood soaked towel to the back of her head.

But it had been what had happened once he’d gotten her help that caused the most trauma. For both of them. The nurse in charge of administering the first line of care had taken one look at the sheer size of him and the amount of scars and tattoos covering the visible parts of body and had gotten her guard up. His behaviour had been the nail in the coffin. His PTSD (undiagnosed at the time) triggered by hospitals and all of the sounds and the sights and the smells that accompany them. He’d been irritable and short tempered and unable to sit still; alternating between vigorously bouncing or shaking his legs or aggressively pacing the floor. He had sent off a number of red flags, and no sooner did they make it back to an exam room, a handful of cops showed up. Explaining the nurse's worries and how their arrival at the ER and Esme’s injury was being treated as a possible ‘domestic abuse situation’. That had only made his mood even worse; being accused of the one damn thing he’d always vowed never to let happen. No matter how dark and dire a situation got, no matter how bad their problems or volatile their arguments, he’d sworn he’d never hurt her; promising to put a gun in his mouth and pull the trigger if he ever ‘blacked out’ and physically hurt her. To this day he’s still amazed that he never caught an assault charge. Shoving one of the officers that had attempted to escort him to a different room and grabbing the throat of the other; triggered the second they made physical contact with him.

Six hours later they’d been sent home with five stitches in her head, a prescription for pain meds and a half assed apology. The next day, Child Protective Services showed up on their doorstep; receiving the hospital report and hearing about how he’d assaulted two cops and wanting to further investigate. Nothing had ever come of it; their case file quickly closed when it became apparent that the children were well taken care of and there were absolutely no signs of abuse in the house. But it had done a lot of damage; worsening his PTSD and helping his distrust in the general public grow to epic levels.

“Are you done?” he asks now, when the celebration finally comes to an end. Her hair messy and wild, cheeks flushed from a mixture of her erratic movements and the alcohol she’d consumed, chest heaving from exertion. “Got it all out of your system? Or are you going to gloat some more?”

“Don’t be such a baby. It’s all in good fun. Everything I do and say, is done with love.”

He smirks. “Sure it is. You good? You finished? Or do I have to boot you to the couch tonight?”

“I’m good. I’m done. It’s over. I won’t gloat anymore and further hurt your delicate sensibilities.”

Smirking, he runs his hands around to the front of her calves and slides them upwards. Briefly lingering on her thighs before snagging the bottom of her shirt and yanking her downwards. She gives a startled yelp when she initially loses her balance and then begins to giggle when he easily and effortlessly gathers her into his arms; knees on either side of his hips as he pulls her tightly against him.

“I know I got a little out of hand,” he says. “Over the whole video game thing. I get a little...intense.”

“You think? Intense is putting it lightly. You’re a little competitive.”

“Yeah, just a tad.”

“And I’m sorry too. I’m sorry you’re a sore loser.”

“Excuse you,” he chuckles, and she laughs and squirms against him when his fingers dig into the sensitive areas below her rib cage. “I was trying to be nice. I was trying to apologize. In my own way.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I know what you’re like, Tyler. I know how you are. You’re insanely competitive. I’ve seen you while playing xBox with the kids. And I’ve seen you after when Millie’s kicked your ass.”

“First, she doesn’t really kick my ass. It’s a small margin of victory. Second, it doesn’t happen often.”

“You keep telling yourself that, babe. Regardless, I know you. I know how worked up and intense you get. I don’t take anything you say seriously when you’re like that. Especially when you ARE losing. It’s all in good fun. You don’t say shit to be mean. Same way I don’t. It’s just who we are. We shit talk each other. I think that’s pretty cool, actually. That we ARE like that. That we’re not just husband and wife and two people raising a family together. We’re friends too. I know you’re my BFF. No doubt about it.”

“You’re definitely mine. But let’s be realistic; how many BFF’s sit on your lap with no underwear on?”

“I lost them an hour ago. One of the three games you actually won. And speaking of which…” she glances down between them. “...technically, things aren't over yet. There’s one thing that remains. That you still have to do.”

“I admitted defeat. I watched your stupid little victory dance. I let you rub it in my face. Isn’t that enough?”

“Nope.”

“What more do you want from me? My right kidney?”

“I want you to do what you’re supposed to. The rules were made very clear at the very at the beginning. And YOU’RE the one that made them. So…”

“I thought maybe you’d go easy on me. Cut me a break. Have some sympathy.”

“You’d have zero sympathy for me and you’d totally enforce the rules. So, you have no choice in the matter.”

“Me, come on, you already hurt my pride. You want to decimate it entirely? Take pity on me.”

“Sorry. I have none to give. You know what you have to do.”

“You know, I was thinking maybe you’d do it for me. Give you that last piece of victory. Give you that feeling of power.”

“Mmm...hmmm. You know what I think? I think that you were hoping getting me down there would weaken me. That I’d do a little something for you.”

“Well I DO need comforting,” Tyler reasons. “You did beat me pretty bad.”

“I totally kicked your ass. But comfort? I don’t know…”

“Be nice to me. You already humiliated me. What more do you want?”

“Don’t turn this around. This isn’t about what I want. This is totally about what YOU want. Because you know if I give in, it puts you at your twice a day. You just can’t handle change. Even when it comes to THAT.”

“I’m a creature of habit. I need my routine. I can’t help it. You know how my OCD acts up when my routine gets fucked up.”

“I love how you just so casually play that card to get what you want. Lucky for you, I’m feeling generous tonight. And a little drunk.”

“Just a little?”

“Maybe a lot drunk. Or at the threshold between still being able to make conscious and wise decisions but not drunk enough to pass out and have you carry me upstairs. But, seeing as I’m in a generous and giving mood and you HAVE been on your best behaviour lately, maybe I could give you a little something.”

A slow grin spreads across his face. “Yeah? A little something, huh? This is where I’m going to miss the hair the most…” he uses gentle fingers to push wayward strands out of her hair; looping dark tresses behind each ear. “...when you’re getting to business. I always knew just how much effort you were going to put into it when you’d put her hair in a ponytail.”

“I thought you liked it. My hair. I thought you didn’t mind it like this.”

“I do like it. I love it. It suits you; shows off your cute, tiny little face. I’m just used to it being long, that’s all. You know, being able to grab it and shit.”

“There’s still some length to it. Enough for you to get even your humongous hands on. And as for the whole ponytail thing, I promise I’ll find another way to let you know when I mean business. When I’m all in.”

“I’m not too worried. Even when you haven’t put your hair back, you’ve never put in a bad performance. Let’s just say, it’s not just Call of Duty you’re a master at.”

“I figure I must not be too bad. I must be doing something right. I haven’t heard one complaint in twelve and half years.”

“Baby, you’re doing everything right. You will never hear a complaint from me. Ever.”

“Have you ever thought maybe I’m not actually that talented? That maybe you’re just very easy to please?”

“Me, no one has ever gotten as quick of reaction out of me as you have. Right from day one. So I don’t know what hoodoo voodoo black magic you’ve got through those veins of yours, but all those other women? None of them even come close to you.”

“Not a single one? Not even the stripper in Thailand you once told me about?”

“Not even her. I actually had to concentrate really hard to get it up. With you? You just look at me a certain way and that’s it. You’ve got some power that I can’t even come close to explaining.”

“Maybe it’s the fact it’s lust AND love?”

“That’ll do it.”

“Speaking of lust, I really do want you to see you with your pants off. I know what a tremendously beautiful sight that is. And I’m actually feeling very generous and giving right now.” She pushes her fingers through his hair; tightly gripping the longer top strands as she leans in to kiss him. Nothing soft or slow about it; lips demanding and her tongue insistently pushing against his teeth. Even after twelve and a half years, it’s rare for her to be the aggressor; preferring him to take charge and enjoying being dominated and ‘man handled’. And it took him a while to get used to letting her have even the slightest bit of control; liking his usual role of being the one fully in charge.

His hands briefly rest on her shoulders and then slide down her arms, pausing at her hips before reaching around to slip up the bottom of her shirt and grab her ass. Fingers pressing into the soft flesh; pulling her even tighter against him and bringing her bare crotch in direct contact with the beginnings of his erection. Twelve and half years later and he still wants and needs her just as much as he did that first time in Dhaka. Maybe even more so. There’s nothing mundane about it; he enjoys the changes in her form and the familiarity that comes with their love making. Their bodies know each other so well; always eagerly responding to one another and knowing exactly how to both torture and please.. And he can’t imagine wanting to be with anyone else; completely content and satisfied knowing that what they have extends far beyond passion and sexual gratification.

She’s cradling his face in her palms when she slowly pulls out of the kiss, and he winces when her teeth capture his bottom lip between them; hard enough to draw tiny beads of blood. It’s her way of letting him know just what she’s in the mood for; the slight hint of aggression and the darkness in her eyes betraying the combination of primal want and need. Even after twelve and a half years she never actually verbalizes it; the self conscious side always leery about being that honest and open and fearing rejection. So he’s become a master at reading her signs; the assertive and domineering way in which she’ll kiss him, the way her hands hungrily and needily paw and grab, the darkness that appears in her eyes and the little smirk upon her lips.

That smirk is there now. Tugging at the corners of her mouth and she slides off his lap; her dark hair slipping through his fingers and his legs parting when she places her hands upon his knees. Something changes when she settles herself between his thighs; the softness returning to her features, the smirk transforming into a delicate smile. In that moment she seems so delicate pure; that smooth, porcelain skin accentuated by the dark hair that frames her face, those enormous eyes sparkling in the glow given off by the fireplace. There’s so much trust and faith and love evident in her eyes that it almost takes his breath away, and he reaches out to lay a hand on her cheek; fingers splayed over her ear and his thumb brushing over her lips. And she turns her face into his palm; gaze never leaving his as she presses a kiss to the calloused skin. And suddenly, despite the earlier bantering and sexual innuendos, the time doesn’t seem quite right; the comfortable silence between them, the softness of her hands resting upon his knees, the dainty curve to her lips and the innocence in her eyes. And he slides his hand to the back of her head and tangles his fingers in her hair as he gently draws her forward. Her arms circling his neck as he pulls her into him; the kiss long and deep and passionate, leaving them both breathless.

“Let’s go upstairs,” he says, forehead resting against hers. “Do this right.”

“I think you’re going to have to carry me. My toes are tingly.”

“I think I can manage. How should we do this? Do you feel like caveman style of Rhett Butler in Gone With The Wind?”

“Caveman style. Makes your muscles bulge more. And gives me a chance to stare at your butt.” She gives a small shriek when an arm wraps around her waist and effortlessly hoists her up onto his shoulder; yelping when a hand clamps down on her ass he pushes himself into a stand. “My big, strong man,” she giggles. “My knight in slightly tarnished armour.”

“Just slightly?”

“Your armour is perfect as is. It’s beautiful and it’s sexy and man, does your ass look extra good from this angle.”

“Speaking of asses…” he brings his palm down on one of her cheeks in a ringing slap. “....this one? This ass? It’s all mine.”

“All yours,” she agrees, tightly grabbing hold of the waist of the UnderArmour pants he still sports as he begins the journey up the stairs. “Don’t drop me! Don’t let me fall!”

“I’d never let you fall, Me,” he vows. “Ever.”

****

The confines of his arms are the most secure and comfortable place on earth; strong and muscular, even the lightest of embraces always possessing intense power and protection. Affection -both receiving and giving- had once been foreign to him; deprived of a loving parent when his mother passed away and left with one that was cold and menacing and did nothing but inflict torture and abuse. His first wife hadn’t been one for the more quiet and relaxing moments following sex, and his life after his divorce had consisted of no strings attached hook ups; out the door as fast as he could flush the condom. So it had been a learning process; a slow yet steady journey of travelling outside of known behaviour and comfort zones. Now he’s a master of it; the aftercare and the snuggling and the long, sleepy conversations as they lay in midst of tangled sheets and sweaty limbs. And he readily seeks and offers physical contact in all aspects of his life; quick with the hugs and the taking of a hand or little random kisses when you’re not expecting them.

She lays tightly tucked into his side. Head resting on his shoulder and her arm draped across his midsection; fingertips lazily following the lines of his ribs and drawing feathery patterns on smooth, warm skin. She knows every inch of his body; able to blindly find each scar and trace the outline of every tattoo. His body is hard and strong; tall and broad shouldered, athletically built. It’s reminiscent of how he’d looked when they first met; lean and muscular, impossibly strong without any extra bulk. She’s seen him every shape and size. Rail thin and sickly looking when he’d finally gotten out of the hospital; an almost staggering loss of both weight and muscle. And the 'lumberjack' stage; thick and powerful; his build phenomenal, extra weight gathering at his stomach and just above his hips. She’s loved him each and every way; during the best days of his life and the worst. Her heart breaking at his struggles with his thin and weaker body during his convalescence five years ago; the days he hated what he saw in the mirror and would fly into rages directed at Nathan and how he’d managed to break him both physically and mentally. And she’d supported him through nearly two years of physiotherapy. The weeks filled with gruelling and painful appointments; comforting him the best she could when it all became too much to bear and he’d cry tears of both frustration and agony. Trying not to break down herself when he claimed that it would have been easier had he died. That he felt useless to both her and the kids. Lamenting that he wasn’t even half the man he was when they’d first met. But she’d gotten him through it; gently leading him out of the dark place in his head and doing whatever she could to encourage him to keep going.

Five years later and he’s come a hell of a long way. There will always be issues; long lasting effects both physically and mentally. The damage Nathan had done causing permanent and life altering problems; vision loss in the right eye, post concussion syndrome, nerve damage in the small of his back and into his right hip, a leg limp that becomes even more pronounced when the cold weather sets in and irritates the arthritis that thrives in his knee and femur. Yet he never complains; down playing the pain and refusing to let it control his life. He’ll need another operation when he hits sixty, if not before. The knee not healing and bouncing back as well as it should; the surgically repaired ligaments and tendons far weaker than they had hoped they’d be. But he doesn’t let it slow him down; even on the days he can barely move and she has to help him get out of bed or in and out of the shower. It’s a bitter pill for him to try and swallow; occasionally needing assistance when it comes to even the smallest of everyday things. She sees how it both annoys and embarrasses him; someone his size and possessing his skills and capabilities needing help from someone as tiny as her. Holding onto that one shred of toxic masculinity that tells him the roles should be reversed; he’s the one that should be taking care of her and doing whatever it takes to make sure she’s safe and healthy and protected. And she handles it the best way she knows how; quietly and efficiently. Never calling attention to his struggles and keeping his mind from travelling down a dark and dangerous rabbit hole by encouraging random chit chat; keeping things light and happy and her hands soft and loving. And in the future, never bringing up what he’d needed or what she’d had to do.

She presses a kiss to the scar that mars his left shoulder. “You awake?”

“I am.”

“You okay?”

His fingers continue to comb through her hair; slow and soothing movements. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re extra quiet tonight. I mean, you’re always quiet. But you’re even more so.”

“I’m just lying here enjoying it. The post orgasmic bliss.”

She lifts her head to look at him, admiring the line of his jaw and the beard that’s beginning to fill out and thicken and those impossible long and dark eyelashes that rest upon smooth skin. “Hey, that’s MY line.”

“Not tonight it’s not. I beat you to it.” As the fingers of one hand continue to move through her hair, the others drift along her upper arm; calloused tips occasionally pausing to trace slow and lazy patterns. “You alright?”

Nodding, she slides further up the bed. Nose pressed against the sensitive spot right below his ear and her hand reaching up to rest on the top of his head; thumb repeatedly brushing against his brow. “I’m good. VERY good, actually.”

“You were fucking amazing,” he praises, and turns his face into hers and places a kiss on the bridge of her nose. “You always are. But that? That was…”

“Extra?”

He chuckles. “Yeah. Very extra.”

“I don’t want to ever hear that you’re complaining about me ever again. Because you are extremely spoiled and there are many men who would envy your sex life.”

His eyes flicker open and a frown tugs at the corners of his mouth. “I don’t complain about you.”

“Like hell you don’t. All couples complain about each other. I admit that I complain about you. About some of the shit you do that drives me insane. Doesn’t mean I love you any less.”

“There’s not really anything to complain about when it comes to you.”

“Right…” she laughs. “...don’t go sparing my feelings, babe. I know what I’m like. I know what kind of bullshit I bring to the table. And yet you’re still here. You still keep hanging around.”

“It’s not that bad; dealing with your bullshit. Besides, I kinda like you.”

“Kinda, huh?”

“Just a bit.”

“I kind of like you too. And I wouldn’t mind if you hung out around here for the next...I don’t know...fifty years.”

“Good. Because I think I’ll stick around. I’m kinda comfortable. I can think of worse lives. I’ve LIVED worse lives.”

“Well now you’re spoiled. Insanely. You’re like that mangy little kitten someone finds in a gutter and nurses back to health and they get all fat and happy and get to sleep all over the furniture.”

He grins. “Did you seriously just compare me to a stray animal?”

“Hey, you needed some work when we first met. You were a little...feral. You were living in a shack with a chicken as a roommate.”

“Roommate? That’s my child you’re talking about.”

“You were pretty rough around the edges. You needed some big time TLC. And I was more than willing to give you that. You had potential. I saw it. You weren’t as scary as you liked to think you were.”

“Maybe not to you. I wasn’t like that with you. I was trying NOT to be.”

“Until you had your meltdown over having the feels and you tried to choke me out.”

“Not one of my finer moments,” Tyler admits. “But I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I was trying to scare you. Because I didn’t want you getting all caught up in something and then have me fuck it up and disappoint you. I was trying to protect you.”

“From you?”

He nods.

“I wasn’t afraid of you. I didn’t think you’d hurt me. I could tell you weren’t that type; to put your hands on a woman. No matter how angry you got.”

“It wasn’t about hurting you THAT way. It was about us taking things too far and feeling things for each other and trying to make something of nothing. I wanted that to happen, but I was scared that it would. Doesn’t make much sense, I know.”

“I think you were trying to protect yourself more than you were trying to protect me.”

“Maybe. I guess I worried I was feeling too much, too soon. That you’d find out who I really was and you’d run. I didn’t want to get attached and have you take off because you couldn’t deal with my shit. In the same way I didn’t want you getting attached and finding out I was too much of a mess and regretting what happened between us.”

“That was NEVER going to happen. I knew you were different. I SAW you, Tyler. Who you really were. Behind those walls you built up. Behind that whole hardened and emotionally vacant mercenary act you put on. I saw it the second we met. It was all in your eyes. That you weren’t like everyone else.”

“I think you give me way too much credit.”

“And you don’t give yourself enough.” Her thumb moves to the scar on the left side of his forehead; thin yet jagged, running vertically. “I was thinking about that first night. In Dhaka. After we...you know.”

“Fucked? Four times?”

“Normally I’d tell you not to be so crude and that it was a little more softer and meaningful than that, but…”

“There was nothing soft or meaningful about ANY of those four times. It was fucking. Let’s not sugar coat it.”

“Whatever it was, it was amazing. YOU were amazing. But do you remember afterwards? When I cuddled up to you? And you wondered what the fuck was going on? You didn’t know how to react; you sort of froze up and didn’t even budge. Were you angry or…?”

“Why would I have been angry? There was nothing to be angry about. I’d just gotten through having the most incredible sex of my life. FOUR times. I had a beautiful, amazing woman in my bed. Still naked. I definitely was not angry.”

“Uncomfortable?”

“Surprised. I wasn’t used to that. The whole afterglow thing. I was used to just getting shit done and getting the fuck out. And my ex wasn’t into that kind of shit. She was a roll over and go to sleep kind of girl.”

“You poor, neglected man. Never getting to enjoy the aftermath. You made up for it though. With me.”

“That I did. I was just surprised when you did it. Cuddled up to me like you did. But I definitely wasn’t angry. Or uncomfortable. It was just different. YOU were different. Doesn’t mean I didn’t like it. It felt good. It felt right. And I figured if something feels that right? There’s no way anything could be bad about it.”

“I love this side of you,” she declares, and presses a kiss to his temple. “This softer, sweet side. I mean, I love all sides of you. But this? This is always a breath of fresh air. And it did; feel right. What was going on with us. And it kind of scared me too. I wasn’t used to that. Feeling things so quickly for someone. Trusting them the way I trusted you.”

“It was a little unnerving. I was a little spooked. But all’s well that ends well, yeah? I mean, here we are. Twelve and a half years under our belts, Me. Seven kids. I think it’s safe to say that we weren’t wrong about what we were feeling. Even if it did seem too soon. I kinda knew I was in trouble pretty early on.”

“When? When you saw me on your porch?”

“I had a feeling you’d be a handful,” he grins, and turns his face into hers; placing a kiss on her brow before resting the side of his nose against hers. “It was the second night though. When I told you about Austin. It had been years since I talked about him to anyone. And I just let it out. Something told me I could. But it did scare me.”

“What were you scared of?”

He shrugs. “Being that honest about things. So soon. I was worried I’d tell you what happened...what I did...and everything would change. I thought you’d be disgusted. That you’d look at me like I was a huge piece of shit. And I would have deserved it. If you did.”

“You made a mistake. We all do. You’re not perfect, Tyler. None of us are.”

“It wasn’t just a simple mistake. It was a horrible fucked up one. I took off. My kid had cancer. And I couldn’t handle it and I ran. Like I always do when shit gets too hard. I wasn’t even there. When he died. I left him and he spent the last of his days wondering where the fuck I was and asking what he did wrong that made me hate him enough to leave.”

“You were a different person back then. You couldn’t handle it. A lot of people wouldn’t be able to. And you had a lapse of judgement. Unfortunately, it ended up being way worse than you thought it would be.”

“I was worried once I told you about all of that, you’d hate me. That it would make you sick to even look at me.”

“I have never once hated you. Not even back then. I didn’t feel disgust. You know what I felt? I felt sad. For Austin. For you. That either of you had to go through that. My heart hurt for YOU. That your child got sick and you had to watch him suffer and that it was so painful to see that you made a bad decision. I was sad for you. Like I still am. But hate you? I could NEVER hate you. You have enough hate for yourself. To last a lifetime.”

“Yeah…” Tyler’s voice quivers with emotion. “...I guess I do.”

Smilingly softly, she combs her fingers through his hair. “You’ve been thinking about him a lot lately, haven’t you.”

He nods.

“I know it gets extra difficult around this time of year. At Christmas. I know how hard it is for you. Trying to be happy and enjoy things while it feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest.”

“It’s not normally this bad. I mean, it’s bad. But THIS?” He swallows heavily around the rock of emotion sitting in his throat. “Never like THIS. I don’t know what it is. Why it’s hit me this hard this year. I don’t know if it’s ‘cause I see how much Millie and TJ are growing up. Or I see so much of Austin in both of them. It’s normally not like this. This bad.”

“It’s okay, you know. To feel this. You don’t have to hide that from anyone. Especially me.”

“I don’t want the kids seeing me like this. I don’t want them thinking they can’t be happy. It’s Christmas. They deserve to be happy and excited and to have the time of their lives. I don’t want them thinking they have to walk on eggshells because of me. Or that I’m not happy being with them. Because I am. Happy. With them. With you.”

“I know you are. You don’t have to convince me of that. I know how much you love us. How happy you are. I never doubt that.”

“I guess sometimes I feel guilty. That I am as happy as I am. That I did move on and have other kids. That I didn’t do it right by him but I turned around and made more kids I could screw things up with.”

“You are NOT screwing anything up. You are a great dad. An amazing dad. And your kids love you so much. They idolize you. You’re their daddy. There’s no one they love the way they love you.”

“He loved me. Idolized me. And look what I did. Look how I betrayed that. How I betrayed HIM.”

“It was a mistake.” Gentle fingertips brush away the tears that glisten on his cheeks and the sides of his nose. “You made a bad decision. But that doesn’t make you a monster, Tyler. It just makes you a man who screwed up. And you know what? Austin would want you to be happy. He’d want you to have a life. To have other kids. Because he’d know how much love you have and he’d want you to give that to other people. He would never deprive you of that; having other kids.”

“Maybe. Doesn’t mean it makes it any easier. The fact he died. Alone.”

“I know it’s of little consolation, but he wasn’t alone. His mom was with him. And I’m sure she told him how much you loved him. That she probably told him you had to go. Not that you chose to.”

“You give her a lot of credit. I can assure you that she DIDN’T say any of that. That he died knowing I abandoned him. That he died hating me.”

“A mother will do anything to protect their child from getting hurt. And I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what she did. He was vulnerable and he was sick and I highly doubt she’d make that worse by shit talking you. I know I wouldn’t. That I’d never let any of my kids hear any of that. That if it had been me? I would have made sure he knew how much you wanted to be there and couldn’t. I would have told him how much you loved him. And would always love him.”

“You’re a different person, Me. She’s nothing like you. Not even in the slightest of ways.”

“I know at one time she loved you. And you loved her. That it wasn’t always bad. That there were some good memories too.”

“I did love her. But not the way that I love you. Not even close. What I have? With you? What I feel? That’s the real deal. Her? I don’t know what that was.”

“She was your highschool sweetheart. You thought you were destined to be together. It just didn’t work out.”

“Which is a good thing. Or I wouldn’t have what I have now. Which is why I’d never go back and change things. Even if I could. Because I change one thing, it changes everything. And I wouldn’t give you or my kids up for anything in this world. Which makes me feel like shit. That I wouldn’t bring back my first kid.”

“Tyler, don’t let your mind go there. That’s a very dark place and that is not where you need to be. I’m sorry it happened. I’m sorry Austin got sick and died. That you had to go through that. But comparing what you had then to what you have now? That will lead to nowhere good. Stop tormenting yourself like this. You have a good life. One that you’re more than deserving of. You have people that love you. Don’t overlook that because you’re so busy looking back at things. You’re not betraying Austin because you had other kids. Because you found love and are loved. And I can guarantee you that he would not want you doing this to yourself.”

“It’s not that easy.” He frantically swipes at the tears that freely roll down his face. “I wish it was. I wish I could turn this all off. That I’d never feel a damn thing again.”

“And that’s not good EITHER. It’s okay to feel. You’re a human being. But dwelling on what you did? You’ll never really enjoy what you have if you keep doing that. And one day the kids WILL notice it. They’ll see the difference in you. And they’ll wonder why they weren’t enough. Why you didn’t love them the same way you loved him. And I know you don’t want that.”

“I do love them. They’re my kids. You have no idea how much I love them.”

“Then you need to let it go. Not Austin himself. But what happened. The decision you made. Because it WILL destroy what you have. It’ll destroy you. And you’ve come way too damn far to let that happen. I won’t LET it happen.”

“I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want to keep going through this. I just want it over. I don’t want it to hurt so much. And I don’t know why it does. Why it’s so hard this time around. I don’t have an explanation, Me. I don’t why I’m like this. But trust me, I don’t want to be this way.”

“Come here…” she encourages, as her one hand finds the nape of his neck and the fingers of the other tangle in his hair. And she pulls him down into her; both of his arms wrapping tightly around her torso and his face nestled against her collarbone. “...it’s okay, Tyler. These times are going to come up. We were told this would happen. That you’d feel this way from time to time. You’ve had a great five years. You’ve avoided these kinds of moments. It was bound to creep up; sooner or later. Christmas is always a hard time for you. I get it. I know you can’t help it.”

“I don’t want to be this way,” he sobs against her. “I just want it to stop. How bad it hurts sometimes. I just want it to stop.”

“You’re going to be alright.” Her voice is soft and soothing; fingertips lightly massaging his scalp. “It’ll pass. You’ll get through this. Same way you’ve gotten through so many things. So many bad, BAD things. You’re a tough cookie, Tyler Rake.”

“I wouldn’t be able to do this if you weren’t here. If you didn’t keep giving me chances. Putting up with all this shit. I wouldn’t even be here. Alive.”

“I love you. More than you could ever know. I love you more and more every day. And I’m not going anywhere. You know how you always say ‘I got you’? Well I’VE got YOU.”

“I love you. So much. I wish there was a way of telling you HOW much.”

“You don’t need to say it." She drops a kiss on the top of his head. “I know. You make it perfectly clear. In your own way.”

“Thank you. For this. For everything.”

“You’re going to be okay,” she assures him, and runs her fingers through his hair. “I won’t let you fall either.”

[q--uee--n]

So, here’s Part 1 of my shamelessly pandering, fluffy Post-Zero Requiem headcanons/notes because I just want everyone to be happy and content and I don’t care how unrealistic some of these are. fuck

(Note: the following 999.9% disregards Re;surrection and falls in line with the events of the original series.)��

Suzaku (Zero)

• at first throws himself into being Zero and protecting Nunnally, not at all thinking he deserves anything but the misery that’s been placed upon him. 

• mistakingly believes Nunnally hates him for murdering her brother. She ultimately sets him straight, and though they’re fairly close, there are still moments where Suzaku’s guilt becomes an obstacle to their relationship.

• for the first few months, he is cold and stoic as Zero, but as time passes and he grows into the role, he begins to soften. Still, his Zero is relatively distant and mute compared to Lelouch’s grand, theatrical version. 

• misses the hell out of Euphemia and Lelouch (even if his relationship with the latter was more complex than a Rubik's Cube) but, over time, slowly reconciles with their deaths. Slowly especially applies to Euphy’s case. It took a while, but he eventually limits his visits to Euphy’s memorial from once every two weeks to once a month to once every other month to once a year (in the distant future). 

• formally reconnects with Kaguya after she brusquely informs him that she’s aware of his identity. She manages to swindle him into having tea with her. Every week. It’s at one of these meetings where he breaks down and apologizes for all the pain he’s caused her, but she reassures him that she’s just happy they’re together again. They often simultaneously laugh and gag at the fact that they used to be engaged, and Suzaku becomes so attached to her, Kaguya’s guard detail starts to become suspicious of his intentions.

• on the subject of his relationships, he, against all odds, becomes close to C.C. and even closer to Kallen. He and C.C. have a weird understanding based on their love for Lelouch, and he bonds with Kallen (once she maneuvers around her own issues) over their mutual painful experiences, which is where they find common ground. 

• Gino discovers his identity by accident. Milly does so on purpose. Both are rather bizarre, cautionary tales, but as a result of them, Zero’s personal associates are up by two. 

• ironically has a large following among small children, who are at the receiving end of his softest interactions with the public. Mothers everywhere adore him just for that. As do stores that make the most profit selling Zero birthday cakes. 

• unironically has a large following among horny young adults. Is the topic of a popular tabloid, Zero Weekly, which mostly speculates about his sex life and what he looks like underneath the mask. He’s scandalized by the magazine, as are Kallen and Nunnally, but C.C. and Kaguya love it.

• utilizes multiple disguises, in part because Kallen refuses to be seen in a public setting with him while he’s Zero for a second time and the rest is because Nunnally just likes putting together outfits for him. 

• in the little free time he has, his hobbies consist of feeding the stray cats he’s accumulated over the years, reading poetry (it reminds him of Lelouch and a kinder time when they were friends), and watching the ridiculously bad American soap operas he swears he doesn’t watch. Their content should make bad memories surface, but they’re just so horribly acted, the effect falls flat.

• only after years of it being drilled into his head, he eventually accepts that he doesn’t have to be alone if he doesn’t want to and that the whole Zero thing doesn’t have to be completely miserable. 

• still healing from, well, everything but has acquired a loyal support base in the few friends he has, and though he still doesn’t quite think he deserves any happiness he’s found, he’s in too deep to reject it (and there’s no way in hell that anyone will let him). 

• cries the first time someone says they love him, halfway out of disbelief because he doesn’t think he’s worthy of anyone’s love and halfway out of relief because he’d never imagined there’d come a day where the phrase was directed at him again.

C.C.

• hangs around after Lelouch’s death because she can, not because she, god forbid, cares about the people in her life. Nope. Not at all, thank you very much. 

• lives in Suzaku’s quarters in the palace until he gets so frustrated by the pizza boxes piling up in his room that he asks Nunnally to give her her own space. C.C. is more than happy to move when she learns the room is Cheese-kun-themed. 

• formally befriends Kallen after the realization that they’re both assholes with trust issues. They have bi-monthly girls’ nights of epic proportions, ones that usually culminate in a single whopping bad decision. 

• is both intrigued and gobsmacked by the fact that Suzaku is still so cordial to her despite the circumstances and the things she puts him through daily. He’s the opposite of Lelouch in every way, but that’s what draws her to him the most. 

• may or may not be attracted to Suzaku. It’s hard to tell. 

• is online friends with Milly. Neither is aware of the identity of the other, but they’re nonetheless a powerful force that troll the internet with spam and shitposting.

• no one knows her real name. Except for Kaguya, of all people, and no one knows how or when or why they became close enough to be on first names basis, and it just doesn’t make sense at all, to the point where Kallen loses sleep at night thinking about it.

• once recounted the time Benjamin Franklin told her off to Suzaku after he returned from a particularly despondent assignment. Afterward, they stayed up eating pizza and reminiscing over fond memories they had of Lelouch, which allowed Suzaku to see a kinder, more vulnerable side of C.C. for the first time. It also marked the beginning of their weekly sleepovers, though they don’t refer to them as such.

• sometimes goes riding with Nunnally on weekends. The younger girl reminds her of her brother, and like his, Nunnally’s heart is pure and kind. She gives C.C. a warm feeling similar to the one she got from Lelouch.

• is constantly traveling and moving about but always returns to Nunnally and Suzaku’s side at their residence in Japan. 

• is well aware of the fact that everyone she’s come to accept as friends will die while she’ll remain living. This is her biggest point of contention, and she contemplates leaving more often than not, but she stays because she can’t leave.

•  "I said that Geass was the power of the king which would condemn you to a life of solitude. I think, maybe, that's not quite correct. Right, Lelouch?"

• has stopped accumulating experience and started living.

Kallen

• finishes her last year of high school and, soon thereafter, becomes a full-time college student. Focusing on her education, she takes time off the Black Knights but still works as a reserve officer and is never without the key to her beloved Knightmare Frame. Because just in case, and Rakshata is always updating the Guren. 

• resented Zerozaku for months following the Requiem, even though she knew everything that happened was all according to Lelouch’s plan. She overcomes her negative feelings after coming across Suzaku at Euphemia’s grave and realizing he knows the pain she’s suffering. She finds that maybe they aren’t as different as she thought.

•  proves vital in helping Suzaku heal and vice versa. They’re both disasters, and they’re opposite in every sense of the word, but all that means is that they never manage to stunt each other, even when they just can’t understand each other.

• after they become friends, C.C. is her second most contacted person. Milly is her first because that woman cannot be trusted. 

• begins a charity in her brother Naoto’s name with the help of her mother. The charity is dedicated to reuniting families displaced by the war. 

• discovers she has an extremely high alcohol tolerance once she’s of age and could outdrink anyone at any time (”yes, Tamaki that also applies to you. ...Please, Ohgi’s son has higher tolerance than you”) but generally doesn’t fuck with alcohol because she doesn’t like the idea of becoming dependent on it. She makes enough bad decisions on her own, thanks. 

• is, like various other members of the original Order of the Black Nights, a hero of the rebellion and a bona fide celebrity, though she still has to work to support herself and her mother and is a tad bitter about that. Especially considering she has all the other “privileges” of celebrity such as sporadic street interviews while she’s on her commute to work.

• because of that one time she danced with Zero at that one party, everyone assumes they’re together, and the media plays it up. She can’t count the number of times she’s had to call in to news stations falsely referring to her as “Zero’s paramour”.

• “True or false? Are you involved with Zero?” “...Involved with–I’m not–who said–” “Ah. You hesitated. Does that confirm our suspicions?” “I didn’t hesitate because that shouldn’t have been a question” “Well, a source close to you informed us of the fact that–” “Source? What source–?” *cue the moment she realizes that the source is C.C. Or Milly. Or both.

• Gino is the source.

• sleeps over at the palace at Nunnally’s invitation when her mother isn’t home and she’s feeling particularly lonely, sometimes sandwiched between C.C. and Suzaku in his room but the bed is more than large enough. It’s weird but it’s comfortable and it makes her feel that much more secure.

• grows out her hair. By the time she’s twenty-two, it’s almost as long as C.C.’s.

• still loves Lelouch with all her heart, but does eventually become open to pursuing a relationship. (”Gino wants to go out with you, doesn’t he? Why don’t you just say yes?” “Just because I said I was open to dating doesn’t mean I want to date Gino, C.C.” “I suppose you’re right. Although that could be because you want to fu–” “One more word out of you and I’ll put Cheese-kun in the shredder.”)

• changes her legal surname to “Kozuki”.