#sorry for drawing Harry like he has his life together

[lemon-wedges]

Sm....smoker on the balcony.....

[xpao-bearx]

"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 1 HERE

Read Part 2 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

NOTES: I literally put my whole heart and pussy into the previous part and it's just so THRILLING to see all the immense love and support!! 🥺❤️❤️❤️

I'm reeeally hoping y'all will like this part, too! Steven has an extremely special place in my heart, but this time we're shifting focus and giving our lovably murderous Moon Boy JAKE his time to shine!! \(^o^)/

Now as we all know, Jake unfortunately hasn't had a lot of screen time yet. I also watched Moon Knight for the third time and besides his confirmed appearance in the post-credits, there are some other more subtle scenes that I'm PRETTY sure Jake was in and it was a lot of fun for me to think so and obsess over!

But I digress! Anywhore, as I was saying, since Jake hasn't been on a lot the way I write him is PURELY made up. Of course, I try my best to capture the vibes I personally get from him, but until Season 2 drops (because I am NOT giving up on that) we don't know for certain what his personality's actually like (and I haven't read the comics please don't shoot me). It was a little challenging, but I really enjoyed getting to explore Jake and his perspective quite a bit! Though he ended up being a bit sadder than I intended CUZ THIS BOI JUST NEEDS AND DESERVES A WHOLE LOTTA LOVIN'❣️

Furthermore, I am not a Spanish speaker. Jake obviously is and I wanna stay as true as possible to the character by having him speak some (*cough* S E X Y *cough*) Spanish throughout, but if I made any mistakes at all then please kindly correct me as I mainly just use Google Translate and/or search up Spanish terms! For example, I was made aware that "ese" means "that" in Spanish. However, it's also Spanish slang for "dude", "man", etc. and I just find it fitting for Jake to call the boys that 😅

Also, Jake is...rough 😳 Don't worry, he loves and cares about you a LOT, but this is a fair WARNING in case you're not into that! And this part got pretty long, IDK I probs blacked out somewhere in the middle and this is le horny result~

Additionally, do y'all think the relationship between reader x Steven/the boys is going too fast? I really try to make it as natural as possible, but hey this is only fiction after all and I think Steven, for one, falls in love FAST since in the show he was already simping for Layla the first time they met 😂 But I can't judge Steven cuz I'd be the same if I ever met Oscar Isaac I mean, I'm already simping now but YOU GET IT

And a lil funny coincidoink, Like A Virgin came on the radio which I guess was your guys' universal push for me to continue this ASAP!

I truly am sorry for the wait!! Life is hard but I simp harder xD

TAGS: @autismsupermusicalassassin @ungracefularchimedes @pimosworld @ababynova @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @anapnovo-blog @am-3-thyst @harrys-tittie @zukoisbabee @wiltedwonderland @the-ginger-draws @bitchyglitterfox @readingfan @spidey-3 @minigirl87 @wandasupremacy @simba-will-live-on @wavychelle @thepowerthismanhasoverme @blackholegladiator @kittytiddywinks @literalfkinsimp @valen-yamyam16 @shaunalouie @howellatme @aleat0ri0 @bean-is-reading @indigxjunipxr

Part 4: Gonna give you all my love, boy

Your chest rose and fell with each soft, blissful snore. Your face void of any burden, open and peaceful; plump lips parted slightly, looking so kissable. And that's exactly what Steven did, lonely lips descending to meet yours--his slumbering goddess.

An insatiable part of him longed for you to awaken, to spend more time fumbling around in the sheets until sunrise. But he knew, more than anyone else, that sleep was important. And he had no doubt that after all the...unique events that progressed your relationship, you deserved all the rest you can get.

Like the proper gentleman he was, he had cleaned you up before snuggling in bed together until dreams inevitably consumed you. And now here you were, using one of his arms that he can't feel anymore as your pillow and your bodies exchanging heat.

Then his mouth lowered, down your chin, to your throat, and to the delicate dip between your neck and shoulder. Planting butterfly kisses on your skin, lips tracing and eyes memorizing every perfect imperfection that dotted your body like constellations.

He noticed your breathing slowly growing uneven, your nipples salaciously peaking through your tank top. He knew he had to stop. He had to, but...

He lifted his free hand, inching towards your breasts before freezing, clenching into a tight fist that had his nails digging into his palm.

His cheeks bloomed red, pulling away and laying on his back as he stared up blankly at the ceiling. What the fuck was he doing?

"Jake, mate... I know you're there, might as well say something, yeah?" Steven whispered.

'Your senses are improving, ese.' Jake snickered. 'Is that why you stopped? No need to be shy, it's just the same as watching porn.'

Steven turned redder, clearing his throat. "Jake, you know you can meet Y/N too, right?"

Silence greeted him. Steven waited patiently, giving his alter all the time he needed. As rough around the edges as they may be, the boys all cared about each other and Steven knew that all Jake needed--deserved--was time. Hell, he and Marc didn't even know Jake existed for a while until he finally felt comfortable enough to reveal himself.

'Nah, ese.' Jake snorted, though his voice held a certain heaviness to it. 'She's all yours. You deserve her, Steven.'

"You're a part of me, Jake. You deserve her, too."

'Don't think your little cariño would appreciate it so much that you're wanting to hand her off to some other asshole.' Jake scoffed.

"I'm not 'handing her off', you git. I wanna...share." Steven mumbled the latter, gulping thickly.

'Steven...' Jake sighed, but Steven sensed intrigue in his tone. 'I don't know what the fuck you expect from this talk, ese. We only share the same body, that's it.'

"You're lying and you know it. Two months working with Y/N, I never said anything, but I knew you were always there. This damn body isn't the only thing we share, 'cause I know your feelings are just the same as mine."

It was then that you mewled softly, shifting and wrapping an arm around Steven's waist and cuddling close to his side with a content little smile on your lips as you slept.

Steven melted and he felt Jake do so, too.

"I'm not giving you an out, mate." Steven chuckled, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. "I'm absolutely buggered and so are you."

♡•••🌙•••♡

Steven, that absolute fucking puta.

As soon as Jake opened his eyes, dread filled him. Slowly turning his head and seeing your back to him, he knew Steven gave up control at some point and forced Jake to come out from the shadows.

He's tried multiple times to drag that pendejo back out, but Steven has obviously put up a block between them. Jake sighed frustratedly, his gaze lingering on you once more.

His heart ached. And fuck it hurts.

He wasn't Steven.

He did not deserve you.

He was dirty--rotten. He was only good for causing pain; even the ways in which he protected the boys were brutal, inhumane.

And he loved the chaos. Thrived in it.

When Steven met you for the first time, two months ago, that was what Jake intended to cause as well. Pain. Heartbreak.

Nothing more than another pretty notch to add to his belt.

But you...surprised him. You actually cared about Steven, gave him basic human respect and the time of day when no one else did and just fucking listened. Accepted him with open arms and such a kind, blinding smile. And pretty soon, Jake yearned for that, too. From you. Just you.

You didn't even know he existed--you didn't fucking care about him--and yet you smashed his glass heart into a thousand pieces, leaving him to find the sharpest shard and continuously stab himself as punishment.

That's what he deserved. Not you.

But oh... You looked so cold. Why were you so far away? What the hell were you thinking, pulling away from him?

Like a lion stalking its prey, Jake crawled towards you until he was on top of you. His dark eyes trailed down your sleeping form, so beautiful, so vulnerable. He didn't realize his hand was shaking slightly as it reached up to caress your face, breath hitching as his thumb glided across your bottom lip before slowly slipping it inside your mouth.

He watched, completely entranced, as your saliva coated his thumb and the way in which you squirmed so that you were now laying on your back, facing him. You were still asleep, though your brows creased together and your breathing grew shallow.

What were you dreaming about, Jake wondered? Were you dreaming about last night? Steven didn't feel him then, but Jake was there and it was the best torture he's ever endured.

He can make you feel good--better. And if there was any room in your heart (and legs) for him, he'd more than happily prove it to you.

But you were so kind, so sweet... Surely you'd accept him, too, right?

Surely you'd relieve him of his huge fucking hard-on, right?

He found himself lowering, lowering, lowering--then stopped just as his lips were about to meet yours.

No...

You didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve him.

As if he was just burnt, he sprang away from you and sat at the foot of the bed, keeping as much distance as possible. His head hung low, hands scrubbing his face in frustration before turning into self-loathing slaps.

He quickly got a hold of himself, lest you have a cruel awakening to him. Not Steven.

He looked over his shoulder. You really did look cold. He unchained the ankle restraint then stood up, walking over to your side and tucking the blanket over your unfairly scantily clad body.

God... How he wished he was the one keeping you warm.

He then shook his head, glancing towards the wall clock. 5:40 a.m.

He can sneak out and do some business for Khonshu. And by the time he returns, hopefully Steven does, too.

He has to.

♡•••🌙•••♡

You rolled over in bed, expecting to cuddle up next to something much more solid than a pillow. Your brows furrowed, a hand flying out to pat the bed and not finding what--who--it was seeking.

Your eyes snapped open and you bolted upright. You looked around in a frenzy, eyes still bleary with sleep and finding the apartment completely empty.

You then noticed the time on the wall clock. 7:20 a.m.

You were off work today, but you weren't sure if Steven had a shift. But even if he did, it was still too early for the museum to open.

So...

Where the hell was Steven?

He couldn't have ditched you...could he? No, that wasn't possible, this was his flat.

But wait... What if this was his subtle way of telling you to get lost? That he didn't want to see you still here when he comes back from wherever the fuck he went to?

You overstayed your welcome, didn't you? This was what it was about, isn't it? This was all your fault, right?

You were on the verge of hyperventilating when, at the corner of your eye, you spotted a bright yellow sticky note on top of the books on the bedside table. You quickly ripped it off, reading the messy, rushed handwriting.

Don't know when I'll be back. Just relax. Food for you is in the kitchen, amor.

You blinked away tears you didn't realize were forming once, twice, then bursted into laughter.

"Fuck, seriously, what is wrong with me?" You berated yourself, still laughing.

This was Steven. Of course he would never abandon you, and you would never abandon him.

He proved it to you, after all. The memories of last night terrorizing your brain once more, making you blush like a virgin (which you were--for now).

You wanted to prove yourself to him, too. And you're sure you'll think of something, but at the moment you became distracted as your eyes landed on Steven's black sweatshirt sprawled carelessly across the floor.

You put on your glasses then hopped off of the bed and picked up the sweatshirt, tugging it on and letting out a giggle as it drooped over your thighs, turning the sleeves into little hand mittens and your body and heart just feeling so warm.

You ambled over to the kitchen, seeing a plate of slightly burnt toast and scrambled eggs clumsily covered in plastic wrap on the small dining table. You chuckled softly, taking the plastic off before sitting down and having breakfast.

As you chewed, once again your brain couldn't help but wander off.

It was only a little thing. Such a stupid thing, really. But still, it just would not stop nagging you.

Amor. It was French for 'love'.

But... Steven didn't spell it with a U. It was supposed to be amour.

Amor, no U, was the Spanish spelling. And Steven, who seemed fluent in French, should know that.

But people make mistakes, and who were you to judge such a minuscule, silly mistake?

Before you could entertain yourself by ruminating over such nonsense some more, your ears perked up when you heard the lock click and the door opening and shutting close. You kept quiet, watching as Steven slowly trudged in.

He was wearing a flat cap and a trench coat, and from your spot in the kitchen he hasn't noticed you yet. But he looked...different.

You couldn't quite explain it, but he seemed...tense. On edge. An air of agitation surrounding him, stiff in his movements yet carrying a sense of confidence at the same time.

Wild.

You then swallowed, standing up from your chair and silently making your way over to Steven with his back turned to you as he busied himself with stripping off his coat and hanging it on the coat rack.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling him jolt. But before he could react, you spoke up.

"I missed you..." You murmured, embracing him more tightly as you pressed your cheek to his back. "Don't do that again, please. At least wake me up if you're leaving."

Steven didn't say anything, completely rigid and gloved hands balled into tight fists.

Then it clicked.

"You're not Steven...are you?"

His shoulders jerked, and you pulled your face away to look up at him. But you never removed your arms, keeping them in place around his waist.

Then his shoulders drooped, hearing him take a sharp intake of breath before ever so slowly turning his head over his shoulder.

"Caught red-handed." His lips curled up into a smirk, dark eyes gleaming down at you. "You're much more observant than I thought, princesa."

Your breath hitched, mouth agape and eyes blown wide as you gawked at him. You didn't know what to feel. Well, there was definitely excitement, but you weren't sure if it was appropriate for you to feel such a way.

Regardless, you were glad Steven was open and honest with you from the get-go. You knew, at some point, it was inevitable that you'd meet the two other men he's mentioned. So, you weren't too taken aback to be experiencing this right now.

"Judging from your accent and what you called me just now... You must be Jake?" You queried, cocking your head to the side as you stared up at him. Funny, he shared the exact same body as Steven, but he was still...different. The way he held himself, the little quirk to his lips, the look in his eyes--it was all very distinct.

"Don't see why you gotta keep asking me questions, princesa. Seems like ya got it all figured out." Jake scoffed, amusement in his tone.

"Well... You certainly made an...impression when you asked me out." You spoke slowly, carefully, as if not daring to spook some wild animal. You wanted Jake to feel safe, welcomed; because it felt like Jake hasn't at all expected to be here right now, but you wanted to let him know that you didn't mind him. You were happy to be meeting him.

But Jake took it the wrong way. He read your body language as aloof, like you were just trying to be polite. And why wouldn't you be? You were naturally kind, but he knew better.

He was absolutely not supposed to be here. He was never supposed to meet you, never planned to. After all, you preferred Steven.

...Didn't you?

His jaw ticked, his hands untangling your arms around his waist before he spun on his heel to fully face you. You gasped as he did, paling at the sight of blood on his shirt.

"What happened?!" You panicked, your hands immediately touching his body, eyes frantically searching for any injuries. "Did someone hurt you?! Oh my god, who did this to you?!"

"It's not my blood."

You froze, a chill coursing through your veins. Slowly, your head tilted up, meeting his gaze. It was much darker than before, flecks of savagery brewing within. And yet, you also saw...loneliness.

Longing.

"Are you scared, Y/N?"

You held your breath, his voice cracking as he uttered your name for the first time. It was a simple question that had a painfully simple answer.

"I am."

Jake shut his eyes, inhaling deeply and letting it out in a wavering breath.

He fucking knew it.

"Jake..." His eyes snapped open at your voice, so soft, so unexpectedly calm. "Will you...hurt me?"

"I would never." He whispered--promised--holding your gaze sincerely. "I couldn't."

"I'm scared of the...things you can do, Jake." You admitted, noticing his Adam's apple bob as he gulped. His gaze fell to the floor, but you reached up, gently cupping the side of his face. "But...I'm not scared of you."

Jake met your eyes once more, his hardened expression softening as he sighed, nuzzling into your comforting hand. For the first time in a long time, he felt...safe. He was not one of Khonshu's pawns, he was not Steven or Marc's ruthless protector, he was simply...

Jake Lockley.

"I'm sorry..." He murmured, trembling hand reaching out and caressing your cheek; tenderly, fondly, lovingly. "I...was never supposed to meet you. I was fine watching you quietly. But last night, Steven said he wanted us to meet. For me to be a...part of what you have with him."

A deafening silence rang in your ears. Jake watched you with those intense, soulful eyes, brows furrowed and jaw clenched as he waited with bated breath for your reaction. Any reaction.

"Jake..." You have no idea how you even managed to speak, your volatile heartbeat replacing the silence. "Take a shower first, we'll talk after."

♡•••🌙•••♡

Water dripped from Jake's hair, his hands pressed against the wall with his head tilted down as he watched the pristine white tiles of the shower's floor stain red.

This was an all too familiar situation for him. Washing off blood that didn't belong to him, his body getting cleaned though never his damned soul. But it never bothered him before...until now.

He knew there was a chance you'd be awake when he returned, but he figured that he can just pretend to be Steven at least until that idiot takes control of the body again. Jake's done it convincingly enough a few times before back when Steven and Marc were still unaware of his existence, acting as one of them whenever something triggered them and he suddenly had to front.

But when you hugged him, he just...froze. It felt as if he was struck by lightning because this was real--you were real. Your heart-wrenching kindness and beauty were all directed towards him, and he was no longer just a pathetic fly on the wall through Steven's eyes.

But how could he be so fucking dumb? He never should've shown himself, he should've stayed away from the apartment even if it took all day and just let Steven deal with the consequences. And yet...he came back.

Because, the absolute truth is, he wanted to meet you. At his very core, he was a selfish bastard who wanted to be with you, no matter the punishment inflicted on him--he inflicts on himself.

But was he really being selfish?

As drastically different as they were, Steven and Marc managed to control their own separate lives. Steven had his job that he despised, but also the comfort of regularly getting a paycheck that provided for his daily needs. Marc was Khonshu's (main) Avatar and as draining as it was, he could still unwind after a long day with a pack of beer and a Chicago Cubs game playing on TV.

And then, of course, there were Moon Knight and Mr. Knight that ultimately tied them together.

But what about Jake? Was he nothing more than a punching bag for Marc and Steven, only seizing command and handling whatever shitshow they got themselves into that they were too weak to finish?

Jake knew that was his job--his purpose. And honestly, it was okay. He cared about the boys, and keeping them safe meant the same for him as well.

...Until you came along. And for the first fucking time, he actually wanted something. Yearned for someone. Just for himself, and not because of anyone else's expectations or demands of him.

He didn't realize it until you came crashing into Steven's--and his--life like some fucking meteorite, but he was empty. And on the extremely rare occasions that Jake was entitled to the body all for himself, he grew tired of being tired from aimlessly hopping bar to bar. Nearly wiping all his fucking memories out with heavy drinks and the need--the desperation--to forget about the problems he deliberately ignores, hides, even for one single measly night through fucking some random stranger he didn't and won't ever care about.

But you weren't a stranger, that was perfectly clear. Days bled into weeks, and weeks into months; and here you were now, looking all cute--tempting--wearing Steven's sweatshirt, eating breakfast in his home, as his girlfriend.

Steven's girlfriend. Not Jake's girlfriend.

"Jake, you know you can meet Y/N too, right?"

Steven's words from last night echoed in Jake's head, taunting him. And the ridiculous proposition that followed afterwards, of the two of them sharing you.

"You're a part of me, Jake. You deserve her, too."

And maybe, just maybe...Steven's right.

Maybe Jake did deserve you.

But did you deserve him?

"What's got you looking all emo?" Jake's head abruptly whipped around, seeing you with one hand holding the shower curtain open while the other clutched onto a towel covering your body.

Your naked body.

Jake's mouth went dry, completely paralyzed. All he could do was let his eyes scan you from head to toe, undressing you in his mind. He's already seen you last night and he thought he'd be fine just basking you in from Steven's point of view, but oh...he thought dead wrong.

Because now he really wanted to touch you. Feel you. Make you come undone, all because of him. All for him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" His question came out sharper than he intended it to, eyes narrowing as he watched your gaze drop, shifting on your feet uncertainly along with the tantalizing way you bit your lip.

You seemed to be engaging in a silent war with yourself before you shook your head, straightening up as you dared to meet his eyes and slowly dropped the towel to the floor.

"I told Steven this before, but I prefer to get things over with." You smiled a bit sheepishly, stepping into the shower; the warm drizzle of water helped to thaw the ice cold sensation anxiety gripped you with. "I'm a very impatient woman, Mr. Lockley."

"And you think jumping into the shower completely naked with a man you barely know is the answer to your impatience, señorita?" Jake arched a brow, an amused smirk playing on his lips.

"Well, it's not like I can get into the shower with clothes on, right? That's just fucking stupid." You scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes. "Besides... It's because I want to get to know you that I'm here."

"This is a dangerous game you're playing, princesa." Jake murmured, his smirk instantly vanishing; that furrowed brows, clenched jaw sternness once more overtaking his striking features as he regarded you. "I'm not your sweet, sensitive little boyfriend. I'm not Steven." He practically hissed out the name, though there was more sadness to it than venom.

"This isn't a game to me, Jake." You stated firmly, standing your ground as you held your chin high and levelled your gaze with his. "None of this is. I take Steven very seriously--I take our relationship very seriously." You paused, taking a deep, shaky breath. "And I know, maybe I'm moving too fast, and I totally understand your doubts about this--about me. But I'm not a fucking dumbass. I know you're not Steven and I like you, anyway."

Jake was rarely speechless, but even as his mouth parted to say something--anything--nothing came out. He felt something fall down his cheek, and he wasn't too sure if it was water or the strange liquid that suddenly made his vision all blurry.

But he didn't have much time to ponder on it when your hand gently pressed against his cheek, your eyes kind and full of adoration, the same adoration you always bless Steven with and something Jake believed was only a far-off miracle for him.

"Y/N..." He choked out, glossy dark eyes intently set on you. "I'm a monster."

"You're not a monster, Jake." You were quick to counter, taking a step closer, now being chest to chest with Jake. "You're a part of Steven, and anything--anyone--that's a part of him is beautiful. And you sure as hell deserve to live your own life, too. And, well, if you'll have me..." You blushed, looking down. "...I would really, really like to get to know you better, Jake Lockley."

Silence smothered you, wrapping its invisible claws around your neck, and you now fully understood what people meant when they say something takes forever. You thought it would be easier and much less frightening if the ground actually opened up and swallowed you whole, but Jake finally put you out of your misery, his hand turning off the shower and a low chuckle bubbling out of him.

"Well... Damn." He smirked, cocking his head down at you, though his smug demeanour couldn't mask the rosiness that dusted his cheeks. "You really do like me and Steven, huh, querida? Or maybe it's just your boobs up against me that's convincing me."

"Well, if it's helping you to believe me, then I'm not complaining." You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck, pushing your breasts against him. Both of your breaths stuttered at the close, intimate contact, and you whimpered as his hands landed on your hips, callused fingers squeezing your soft flesh.

"Dios mío..." He growled lowly, his hands slowly, reverently travelling up the curves of your body, leaving a burning wake, before dipping once more and giving your ass a hard smack.

"Ah..!" You gasped, lurching forward, your face bumping against his solid chest. You felt his chest vibrate as a deep laugh rumbled out of him, one hand fisting your hair and pulling your head back.

"I ain't lying when I said I'm not your sweet, sensitive boyfriend." There was mania in his eyes, baring shiny white teeth as he grinned widely at you; like a shark who's smelled blood--your blood--from a mile away, he's set his target and can't be satisfied by anything, anyone else. "Then again, if you could see Steven's thoughts like I can, 'sweet and sensitive' aren't completely accurate for him."

You gulped, but not from fear. You squeezed your thighs together, pupils dilating as you stared up at Jake. "I-I don't mind if you or Steven aren't sweet and sensitive. I wanna be treated nice, but there are plenty of ways 'nice' can be translated to..." You placed a hand on his abs, lips parting as you traced along his taut muscles, looking like some fucking Greek sculpture--a god--with the way his wet body shimmered a divine bronze. "Don't you think so...Papi?"

With no warning, you felt the air get knocked out of you as his lips collided with yours, attacking you; tongues intertwining with a clash of teeth, the moist smack of your lips harmonizing with the vulgar moans Jake drew out of you.

You felt Jake's neediness, the desperation underlying his roughness--as if this was not just the first, but the only time he'd get to kiss you and have you for himself.

As if you'd ever allow for this to be the only time.

Your hands fell to his shoulders, nails breaking his skin and marking him with crescent indents. He groaned as you did, kissing you with even more fervour, fiery passion never ceasing as you both chased after that hellish ecstasy; seizing, bruising, suffocating you.

More, more, more. Giving and taking, taking, taking.

You just could never have enough, clueless as to where you started and Jake ended, Jake's tongue practically down your throat now. You know you needed air, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, but your body refused.

If this was how you died, then you'd die an elated woman.

But Jake suddenly pulled away from you, making you whine loudly. Your hands pawed at his chest, tears springing to your eyes and your ears couldn't even register the pitiful pleas that tumbled out of your mouth for more, more, more.

"You're such a fucking slut, aren't you, mi amor?" Jake snickered, one hand wrapping around your neck, thumb stroking the column of your throat, squeezing just enough to feel as if your head was floating. "Steven always saw you as this pure, innocent angel. But you're not, aren't you? You wanna be corrupted, don't you? You wanna be my pretty little devil, slut?"

"I'll be anything for you, Papi." You replied breathlessly, tears staining your scarlet cheeks. "Just be my everything."

"I'll be whatever--do whatever--for you, mi vida." His voice was low, barely above a whisper, but you heard him loud and clear, his earnesty and sweetness cloying. His other hand caressed your face before he leaned down, his tongue licking away your salty tears, a reprieve from the rapturous flames that engulfed him. "Now... What do you want Papi to do?" He purred, smirking wolfishly down at you. "You want me to fuck you? Spread your little virgin pussy, fill you up with my cock? Wanna see how much you can take, cariño. Take all my cum, don't waste a single fucking drop."

As tempting as his filthy words were, as much as you wanted to, you remembered how Steven refused to have sex with you last night. Of his promise that he'll make love to you another time, when he was better prepared with condoms. And fuck, you wanted him--them--so badly. Steven and Jake. But you respected Steven and his decision, and you did also want for your lovemaking to be special.

"Can I taste your cock, Papi?" You asked, biting your lip as you met Jake's gaze shyly. You felt like a mouse and he was the lion, yet you held the power in whatever was going to happen. "I-I promise I'll take it all... Take all your cum, like a good girl."

Jake knew that you chose not to have sex with him out of respect for Steven, and that only made him love you more. He felt a pang in his heart and a smile tugged up the corners of his lips, eyes locking with yours, full of tenderness and affection.

Right then and there, he knew that you were "the one". For him and Steven.

"Get on your knees like a good fucking girl, then." He breathed, and you didn't hesitate as you instantly dropped to your knees, breasts jiggling slightly as you did. Your eyes widened as his cock stood proudly, mere inches away from your face.

"I...I'm sorry if I'm...bad." Your voice came out as a squeak, mentally slapping yourself before clearing your throat. "I-I've never done this before!"

"You better have not or else I'll hunt down and kill all the fuckers you've ever been with." He barked out a laugh, but his eyes were dark and serious.

Murder was not something Jake Lockley ever joked about, after all.

Strangely enough, you found his possessiveness...sexy. Which only meant that Jake was already corrupting you.

But was that really such a bad thing?

You shook your head, focusing on the cock--erm, task--at hand. Your hand wrapped around his shaft, hearing Jake breathe sharply through his nose as you did. You licked your lips as you watched the pre-cum drip out of the tip, so curious, so transfixed like a moth to a flame.

Your tongue then darted out, experimentally licking the milky fluid. Jake threw his head back with a guttural groan; you've barely even started, and it made you fucking giddy that he reacted like this.

"Jake..." You murmured, giggling softly. You peered up at him through your long lashes, flashing him a dazzling smile. "You're so beautiful, Jake."

"That ain't something you should call a man, mi vida." Jake scoffed, but the crimson tint on his cheeks have spread like wildfire to the tips of his ears and neck. "Especially not when you're the beautiful one."

"Going soft on me now, Jakey?" You teased lightheartedly, slowly beginning to stroke his length.

Jake's breath hitched, brows furrowing as he watched you intently, attentively. "You really are a little devil, Y/N." He chuckled deeply, and you knew that meant trouble. "You think I'm going soft? Looks like you really have a lot you need to know about me."

Like before, his hand fisted your hair, pulling your head back and making you look up at him. "Open up, slut." And you did, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. You flinched slightly as his cock hit your tongue, his other hand grabbing his member and moving it around on your tongue, painting it white.

"Now you're gonna be a good cocksucker, got it?" He grinned down devilishly at you, eyes twinkling with sheer, wicked glee. "You're gonna make Papi cum, like the good whore that you are."

You nodded hastily, eagerly. And you just couldn't fucking take it anymore, jostling forward and burying his cock in your wet, hot mouth.

"That's. Fucking. It." Jake hissed, his grip on your hair tightening ever so slightly. Slowly, you began to bob your head, your mouth accommodating his size. You briefly wondered how anyone could ever even compare this to a banana or a popsicle stick; it was much bigger and your jaw started to hurt, which Jake quickly noticed as you tensed.

"Hey, relax." He cooed, reaching down to tenderly wipe away the tears you didn't realize were flowing down your cheeks. "Easy, Y/N. Relax your mouth, loosen up your throat... Fuck, yeah, that's it. Keep going, hermosa."

With newfound confidence and assurance, you gradually increased your pace. You hollowed your cheeks, your tongue sliding along the underside of his cock with each rhythmic bop of your head. Up, down, up, down--Jake's sinful groans bouncing off the walls of the bathroom, never breaking eye contact as you burned all of him into memory.

Then your surprised gasp was muffled as his foot pressed against your clit, only offering you a cocky smirk in return.

He began to move his foot, his toes budging your clit and stroking along your pussy. You moaned around his cock, grinding against his foot for more friction. Then his other hand grabbed onto your hair, both of his hands now pushing and pulling your head up, down, up, down--drool spilling down the sides of your mouth, resisting the urge to gag as the tip of Jake's cock pounded your throat, your hands floundering to his thighs as you clung on for dear life.

"Fuck, look at you... Una putita tan bonita solo para mí." He laughed, the thrusts of his hips growing fiercer, more rabid as he mercilessly fucked your throat. "Wanna taste me, mi vida? Think you've earned it?"

All you could do was nod, nod, nod--looking up at him pleadingly as you continued to desperately grind yourself against his foot, your own orgasm fast approaching.

Jake's jeering laughter soon stuttered into a heavy, gasping moan; his eyes squeezing shut as his head fell back, hitting the wall. You felt his cock twitch, releasing his seed, shooting down your throat and his balls slamming against your chin.

Your own release coated Jake's foot, your entire body shuddering from the intensity of it all and coughing as Jake finally withdrew his cock out of your mouth. But you didn't have time to revel in the afterglow as Jake's hand wrapped around your neck once more, dragging you up and crashing his lips with yours. You swapped spit and cum, but neither of you cared; the two of you groping, squeezing, clinging onto each other any which way your needy hands could fumble.

You didn't keep track anymore of who pulled away first, laughter ringing in your ears as you both grinned at each other; spent, happy.

The dawn of something new, exciting, promising shining between the two of you.

Wordlessly, Jake turned on the shower again. Then he grabbed the soap, his hands gliding along your smooth skin, his lips attaching to the crook of your neck where he could see the faint pinpricks of his handprint slowly materializing.

"Did I hurt you, mi vida?" As rough of a lover as Jake was, none of his pleasure mattered if you didn't enjoy yourself.

"A little bit." You admitted, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing the top of his head. "But it's okay. I...liked it." You blushed furiously.

"Fuck..." He grumbled, pulling away and looking very much like a kicked puppy, something that you thought only Steven was a pro at. "As cute as you are blushing like that, princesa, I'm so fucking sorry. I know I should know when to stop, when to be gentle...but those are not really what I'm good at." His eyes drifted down, and you can tell that he had a lot more to say. A lot more to regret. "I'm sorry, Y/N."

"I forgive you, Jake. Now please... Stop beating yourself up, okay?" You cupped his face, pecking his nose and meeting his gaze. "I'm not lying when I said I liked it, but don't blame yourself too much. I also should've done something, spoken up if it was too painful for me." Your fingers ran through his hair, smiling softly, lovingly at him. "All of this is new for me--for us. But it's okay, 'cause we can learn together, yeah? And if you'd like, we can come up with a safe word if things get too rough."

Jake hesitated, wondering if you were really telling the truth and not just trying to comfort him. But one look at your sweet, loving smile was more than enough for his worries and doubts to fade away, his own smile gracing his lips and his hands holding your own that were so gently, kindly cupping his face.

"I think that would be great. Any idea what the safe word should be?"

"I was thinking 'Khonshu'." Your answer made Jake snort before he bursted into laughter, you joining shortly after.

"Mi vida, if you say that bastardo's name while we're fucking, you really are gonna make me go soft." He chuckled, pinching your cheek and kissing your forehead.

"Fine, fine! Clearly coming up with a safe word is what I'm not good at. Let's figure it out together." You playfully rolled your eyes, giggling and kissing his cheek. "Anyway, I'll head out first. But don't take too long or else I'll jump in the shower with you again and for the sake of Steven's water expenses, you do not want that happening."

"On one condition, señorita. You have to wear my clothes when you get out, not Steven's." He hummed to which you laughed and nodded, but just as you were about to step out of the shower, Jake suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to his chest.

He leaned down to your ear, voice a low purr as he spoke; like it was a secret, a sacred oath between only the two of you.

"El amor de mi vida, mi salvavidas... Nunca te dejaré ir."

Your lips curled up into a smile, your heart swelling achingly within your chest. You turned around and leaned up on your tiptoes, your lips melting perfectly together with Jake's, becoming one.

"I love you, Jake Lockley." You whispered, sealing your oath. "Now... Don't keep me waiting. You know I'm an impatient woman."

Jake watched with a dumb, lovestruck grin as you pulled away giggling, finally stepping out of the shower and closing the bathroom door behind you. And as soon as you were gone, Jake piped up to the other occupant in the bathroom.

"Steven, ese... I know you're there, might as well say something, huh?"

'Bloody HELL, mate...' Steven's words stumbled out in a rushed, breathless breath. 'That was MENTAL.'

"You're welcome for the free show, ese." Jake chuckled, standing under the spray of the shower as he washed himself off.

Although Jake couldn't see Steven, he knew that the poor, flustered English man was having a damn heart attack at this very moment.

'That was...that was...' Steven was completely at a loss for words, making Jake smirk.

"The hottest fucking thing you've ever seen? Yeah, I know. Y/N's our sexy girlfriend, after all." Jake turned off the shower, hopping out and drying himself off with a towel. "You're right, by the way. We're both absolutely fucked."

'I'm just glad it all worked out, mate.' Steven replied, relief and happiness flooding his voice. 'You deserve her. WE deserve her. It's just...' He trailed off, sighing deeply. 'Now that I think about it, I'm worried about Marc.'

"Fuck Marc." Jake snapped, his eyes settling on the mirror, Steven's reflection staring back at him with an anxious crease between his brows and lips downturned. "We deserve to live our own lives, too, Steven. That cabrón's just gonna have to deal with it."

And deal with it, Marc will. But...

You'll have to deal with Marc, too.

[1d1195]

Neighbors Extra IV - Merry Christmas

Read Neighbors here

I wanted to write something for the holidays and they seemed like a worthy couple to do so. I will get back to Dolcezza over the next few days and I'm sorry my posting schedule is off now. I will get that back on track too.

Warnings: fluff, cuteness, Christmassy nonsense (maybe a little angst if you read it the right way)

This isn't super proofread. I'm not sure how my timeline is matching up with the rest of the story but this is their first Xmas together as a couple. Probably before the other Extras I've written but I'm not sure time is really relevant.

~3.1k words

Surely everyone in her life showered Rory with presents. He hoped that her family spoiled her just as much.

But he had a sneaking suspicion that wasn’t the case.

“I hope Santa gets everything on my list,” Rory giggled. Harry watched as the wonderful woman helped Rory write out his list. She wrote out each item carefully, committing it to memory. He signed his name in his large six-year-old print. Once the list was decorated with stickers and glitter (and an extra drawing of the North Pole was slipped in the envelope), she stole a picture of it for her own use and memories. The three of them headed to the store to put the envelope in the North Pole mailbox and get some shopping done.

Harry smiled lazily. This was better than any Christmas he could imagine with his little family—and it had hardly started. He gazed longingly at the love of his life as she meandered down the aisles getting presents for her family, Harry’s family, coworkers, and anyone else she could think of before she would have to find a time to get all those items on Rory’s list. “Think y’ve been pretty good, lad,” Harry smiled. “Don’t you?”

He nodded. “I’ve eaten all my vegetables this year. Even the gross ones,” he wrinkled his nose distastefully. It was the same way she did it which made his heart flutter at the sight. Rory was so much like his mum it hurt in the best way.

Harry chuckled. “Mummy and I appreciate that. S’good for you,” he reminded him.

“Can you help me get Mumma a present?” Rory whispered. He wasn’t very good at it. She turned a bit toward the sound of his little voice ever so slightly. A smirk on her face that Harry didn’t miss. He ignored her attention so he could focus on Rory’s inquiry with hope that maybe the pair of them could surprise her.

As usual, she was very smart and did a lot of her Christmas shopping early in the season—almost as soon as the decorations for Halloween came down, she was out at the store buying gifts.

“Course, lad. What do y’want t’get her?”

“A racecar. So she can play with me,” he explained. It wasn’t a question in Rory’s mind. It was the most obvious choice of gift.

Harry chuckled. “I see. Do y’think Mummy has asked Santa for something else we could get her? Something a little more girly?”

By now she had rounded the corner to the next aisle. Harry and Rory had veered off to look at the racecars. “Mumma doesn’t get presents from Santa,” he shrugged heading to the section of toys that he deemed worthy of Mummy.

Harry frowned at how readily that came from Rory. “Oh? She on the naughty list?” He joked. But he would tease her about that later when they fell asleep. Right as they fell asleep.

Rory giggled. “Mumma isn’t naughty, Harry,” he rolled his eyes.

No. She wasn’t. She was the furthest thing from it. She was perfect. An angel. It was...the best thing that had ever happened to Harry—moving in across the street from someone so lovely. “Then how come she doesn’t get any gifts from Santa?” He was joking of course. Surely there would be a little white lie of how Santa left them at the North Pole or there was a promise of next year there would be double the amount for Mumma.

But he hadn’t anticipated Rory’s response. “Mumma said that she called Santa when I was born. She doesn’t want presents so I can have more. Mumma says that even his magic sleigh has a weight limit.”

Harry thought his heart might break. This was the third Christmas that Rory probably understood. His developmental psychology classes told him that age four is usually when kids start to get the gist of what Christmas is like for them. That meant for the time that they knew one another, she hadn’t gotten Christmas gifts from “Santa.”

It shouldn’t have been such a surprise to him. What else was she supposed to say to Rory? There wasn’t anyone to balance the gifts out so that she had something to open while Rory got new toys and clothes. Harry tried to think of what he got her over the last couple years. It wasn’t anything special because he couldn’t remember.

She was selfless, of course. Especially for Rory. It honestly made him fall more in love with her. Made him want to cry something awful as well. Harry wondered if she minded. Surely everyone in her life showered Rory with presents. He hoped that her family spoiled her just as much.

But he had a sneaking suspicion that wasn’t the case.

“Boys, are we ready to go get some hot chocolate and start decorating?” She called.

Rory quickly handed over the racecar he wanted to get her and pushed it behind Harry’s legs where he could reach to hide it from Mumma. The pair of them smiled like they had just stolen a cookie from the kitchen after she said no. She smirked and met Harry’s gaze with a twinkle in her eyes, herself. “Yes, Mumma,” Rory said hurried to her side. He turned and put a finger to his lips toward Harry. So, he would keep the present a secret. He winked at the little one and caught her gaze once more so he could wink at her too. With a shake of her head, she turned her attention forward toward the checkout.

*

Don’t forget to invite Gemma and your Mum, please.

Harry smiled at his message as he and Gemma walked the aisles of the beauty store. Harry wanted to get her everything her heart desired and more, but wanted to make sure it was right—that required reinforcements.

“Does she use a face roller?”

“A what?”

“Jesus Christ, Harry,” she sighed in exasperation. She threw one in the basket.

“I don’t know, Gem. I don’t think she has a skincare routine. She’s usually making sure Rory gets a bath and goes t’bed.”

Gemma didn’t like that response. “Then we’re going to get her a spa day too after this,” she explained. “And you need to make sure she takes some time to herself every night,” she said knowingly. Harry nodded. He didn’t care about how many stores they were going to. He wanted this to be the Christmas of her dreams and more. He would get her anything and everything. Cost wasn’t a problem. And he was going to make sure she spent an hour to herself every night for the rest of their lives. “Does she ever complain of dry skin? Or that she looks oily?”

“No...” he shrugged again. Maybe he wasn’t paying as close attention as he thought he was to her self-care.

“Does she ever do anything for herself, Harry? Or do you just let her do everything?”

“Gemma. She is a selfless person. S’impossible t’do anything for her,” he resented the idea that he wasn’t doing a good job as her boyfriend. But Gemma wasn’t wrong. It sounded like he was doing a bad job.

“Okay, okay, you’re right,” she nodded in agreement. “Mum is getting her all sorts of clothes for us to split up and give to her,” she tossed three different serums into the little basket. “She wears makeup, right?”

Harry never thought she needed it, but he couldn’t help but be hypnotized by the way she glided the various liquids and powders over her face each morning. She did it quickly—with a six-year-old everything had to be done quickly. But it was like watching an artist as she put stuff on her face and turned even more beautiful than she was without it.

“Yes,” he said confidently feeling like he finally was contributing to this whole escapade.

“Does her stuff look old? Has she ever said anything about getting new makeup?”

He thought about all the brushes and tubes she used each morning. Harry thought all of them looked on the older side. “What’s the one y’dot on y’face? Under y’eyes?”

“Concealer.”

“She said they discontinued the brand, so she keeps putting water in hers.”

“Jesus Christ, that’s sad,” Gemma remarked. “Alright, I’ll get her the kind I liked. She can always return it. Give me your phone.”

Harry handed it over immediately. Gemma examined the picture of the pair of them in his background. A selfie from the symphony. Harry felt himself warm at the sight of her even on his own screen that he looked at no less than thirty times a day. While Gemma did her best to match her skin tone, Harry simply admired how pretty she looked and how even just her picture made him feel an overwhelming amount of love for his little life.

“It’s hard to tell in pictures, but she’s tanner than I am; lucky bitch,” Gemma grumbled. Harry smirked.

“Do you want anything for Christmas?” He asked his sister.

Gemma snorted. “She’s already way ahead of you, Harry,” Gemma smiled. “You’re about a month too late.”

He chuckled shyly. “Sorry, Gem.”

“It’s okay. It’s... really nice you have someone so thoughtful. As thoughtful as you. Maybe even more so just because she does it so early. But... I wouldn’t want you to be with someone less thoughtful. So it’s nice.” Harry agreed fully and smiled even brighter knowing that his sister loved his choice in love as much as he did. “Alright. We’re meeting Mum for lunch and then we are going to the home goods store for stuff she might need around the house... what are you doing about her stocking?”

“Doesn’t some of this stuff go in there?”

“Yeah... but like... you could get her jewelry or something.”

Harry nodded. “Okay... I’ll do that on my own.”

“Harry,” Gemma smiled at her little brother—even though he was a good seven inches taller. “You’re doing great. This is...” she sighed happily. “She’s going to love it.”

Harry felt a sense of pride wash over him even though his cheeks warmed at the praise. He really hoped she would.

*

“Harry?” She whispered in the middle of the night. They had spent an hour setting up Rory’s new roller coaster track after she finished wrapping a few last-minute gifts and pulling the presents from various hiding places—the shed in the backyard, the back of her car, and of course across the street at Harry’s house that had hardly seen anything else Christmas related since he spent all his time with her and Rory.

“Jus’ getting some water, kitten. Go back t’sleep,” he leaned down to kiss her forehead. She didn’t need to be told twice. Her light snores started almost instantly, which boded well for Harry. All her presents were in the back of his car. The transfer had been done late in the day by Gemma while the three of them went to the Christmas Eve fair put on by the local high school. They drank more hot chocolate than Rory could dream about. She worried the sugar would keep him up and prevent them from putting the presents under the tree.

Harry found Rory at the top of the stairs. A ribbon and sign across the way telling Rory not to go down without Mumma and Harry. He was asleep on the floor. A pillow from his room and covered with the blanket she and Rory made one rainy afternoon in November. She helped cut all the little ends while he did his best to tie them together.

Harry smirked and lifted Rory from the floor to bring him back to his bed. “Harry?” Rory murmured.

“Hmm?” He hummed.

“Did Santa come?” He yawned.

“Santa won’t come if y’aren’t in y’bed, lad,” he reminded him.

“I wanted to ask him to give Mumma some of my presents,” he muttered sleepily.

Harry felt his heart warm. “I’ll go write him a note,” he placed Rory on his little mattress, tucked him in, kissed his forehead, and ruffled his hair. “Don’t get out of bed, till morning, Rory. Or Santa won’t come,” he reminded him.

But Rory was already asleep.

*

“Mumma!” Rory’s little voice gasped. Harry’s eyes fluttered open to meet her sleeping figure. Her lips parted as she breathed. Harry reached out and put a hand on her face.

“Hey, beautiful,” Harry whispered and inched forward to place a kiss on her forehead. “S’time t’get up,” he murmured. “Merry Christmas,” he leaned closer to kiss the shell of her ear as he spoke softly to her. Meanwhile, Harry could hear Rory bouncing up and down the little hallway between their rooms and the stairs chanting that it was Christmas and Santa came.

Her lashes fluttered as she woke up, meeting Harry’s beautiful green eyes. “Harry, Santa came!”

He winked at her as she rubbed her eye tiredly. “Yeah, lad?” He smiled at the excitement. “Y’didn’t go down, did you?”

“No way, Jose!”

Harry chuckled. “D’you want t’come give Mummy a Christmas hug?” He asked.

There was a shift in weight on the bed as Rory’s little body flung himself in between the pair of them. “Merry Christmas Mumma,” he giggled and snuggled up to her. She smiled, burying her face in his hair, and squeezing him to her.

“Merry Christmas, love bug,” she sighed sleepily but very content.

“Can we go downstairs?” He was trying to wriggle free.

“I have to brush my teeth and we’ll go right down,” she promised and threw the covers back. “Maybe you should give Harry a Christmas tickle,” she suggested as she left the bed and Rory took her word and tickled Harry well enough to make him squirm and giggle himself.

“You’ll pay for that,” he kissed the side of her face as she exited the bathroom so Harry could brush his teeth too.

Rory was now bouncing with excitement, and she smiled sitting back on the bed while they waited for Harry. “What do you think Santa brought you?” She asked.

“I hope he brought me the roller coaster,” he crossed his fingers on both hands to show her and she mimicked the gesture while Harry returned as quickly as possible.

“Alrighty, I think we can go down now,” she smiled.

Harry grinned and followed behind the two of them. Rory was squealing and laughing as he reached the bottom of the stairs before they did. He hurried to the rollercoaster set and sent the little cart flying down the track while she tilted her head at the pile of presents that seemed to increase in size by at least a half.

“Did you get him more?” She muttered under her breath.

“Mumma!” Rory shouted. “Harry wrote Santa a note for me last night! Santa brought you some presents this year.”

She seemed to freeze in place and Harry put a hand on her lower back. “C’mon, kitten. S’Christmas,” he kissed the top of her head and nudged her toward the sofa so she could sit.

“H-he did, huh?” She looked overwhelmed at the pile of neatly wrapped presents with her name on them. Most were labeled from Santa. A few from Harry and one from Rory—the racecar of course.

“We start with the stockings,” Rory explained to Harry grabbing the one with an H on it and handing it to him. It was filled with little trinkets and items that she painstakingly tied with ribbons and candies that he would undoubtedly end up sharing with Rory until their stomachs hurt.

“Oh...I had a chat with Santa last night,” he recalled sitting beside the poor thing that was struggling to make sense of all the items under their overly decorated tree. “Santa agreed that I could do Mummy’s stocking from now on,” he told Rory.

“Mumma, Harry knows Santa too!” The poor thing was having a meltdown on the inside of her mind. It was clear on her face as she tried to factor in the price of all the presents that were tied nicely with bows and ribbons. Rory handed off her stocking as well and was lucky she didn’t drop it immediately. Lucky that Harry was sitting right beside her to hold it while he placed his beside him. Rory sat himself on the floor with the stocking between his legs. “Can I start?”

She was mute it seemed as she examined all the little items poking out of the top of the oversize sock. “Go ahead, lad,” Harry encouraged and squeezed her thigh. “You too, kitten,” he murmured into her ear.

“You...” she whispered breathlessly, cleared her throat and Harry saw the well of tears filling her eyes. “Santa brought me a lot of stuff,” she murmured while Rory oohed and ahhed over the little things filling his stocking.

“He told me that y’never have t’sacrifice Christmas on behalf of Rory anymore. That was really nice of you t’do it the last few years. But...he wants you t’get whatever y’ever want,” he cupped her cheek while Rory ripped open his bag of M&Ms spilling tens of them across the floor with a little scattering that she ignored because Harry was gazing at her like she was the most special thing on the planet.

Harry really, truly believed she was.

“Yeah?” She smiled, but her eyes were so watery it made him melt.

“Very much so,” he leaned forward and swept his lips across hers briefly so as not to get Rory’s attention to their yucky kissing. “Merry Christmas, m’love.”

“Merry Christmas, Harry,” she leaned toward him, resting against his chest. His arm draped over her while they watched Rory stuff a mouthful of M&Ms between his lips. They continued watching him open each and every present that was selflessly ticked off his list.

“This is the best Christmas ever,” Rory smiled excitedly.

“I think so too, love bug,” she giggled at him.

“Absolutely,” Harry agreed.

“How about a picture, Rory?” She asked grabbing her phone out of the pocket of her leggings. “C’mere,” she handed her phone to Harry and opened her arms for Rory to hop into her embrace. Rory situated himself half on her lap and half on Harry’s. She squeezed closer to Harry while he hold the phone out for a selfie. Rory held his little jar of slime out for the picture and Harry grinned into the camera as she rested her hand on Harry’s leg around Rory’s little body as best she could. “Alright one more,” Harry smirked and leaned toward her to steal a kiss that caused Rory’s face to wrinkle in distaste forever savoring the perfect moment on film.

A Christmas for the history books, for certain.

At least their history books.

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland @lolyouallsuck @buckybarnessimpp @stylesfever @harrysxcarolina @haarrrys @lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown

neighbors taglist: @claimingharrystigertattoo @mopeymousey @vmpellie

[verosvault]

🚨SPOILERS FOR FANTASY HIGH JUNIOR YEAR EPISODE 7🚨

Dimension20 "Fantasy High Junior Year"

Episode 7 "Stress Tested"

Timestamp: 1:01:58

Video Length: 5min.

Fig talks to Zara about continuing Warlock classes + Impromptu Field Trip to the Bottomless Pit (‣Pt. 1 | Pt. 2)

Brennan: "I think if you wanted to talk to any of the teachers, you feel cool to talk-"

Emily: "I definitely wanna go to the Warlock."

Brennan: "Cool. I think, like, that night after the Twilight Ceremony is when Warlock class is anyway. So like 30 minutes later you're skateboarding into school and Zara says,"

Zara: "Ah, Miss Faeth, it is good to see you."

Fig: "Hi."

Zara: "Listen, I think I checked the roster. There's some paperwork that needs to go through. What- and I don't want to harsh your vibe."

Fig: "Right, right."

Zara: "What class on paper are you in?"

Fig: "I'm just sort of an off paper kinda person." 😂🤣💀

Zara: "Right, so you're trespassing?"

Fig: "Yeah." 😂😂

Zara: "Okay." 💀💀

Fig: "Okay, here's the deal. I think I like your class, and so I would like to keep coming."

Zara: "All right."

Fig: "So if there's a matter of paperwork, I'm willing to dot some i's and cross some t's."

Zara: "Perfect, I think this is a very wise decision. You are in Bard classes, I believe. But as long as you get permission from your Bard teacher."

Brennan: "You see she produces a contract, and a little thing of flame and it's an MCAT. She signs her name allowing you to multiclass into her class. She hands it to you and says,"

Zara: "The power of the Warlock is the power of the agreement, which is the power of the relationship. Where do you wish to draw your power from? And where do you feel that you are drawing it from now?"

Fig: "I am an archdevil of rebellion 'cause my dad was an archdevil of rebellion. Now he actually coaches-"

Zara: "Your dad is Gorthalax?"

Fig: "Yeah, Gorthalax is my dad."

Zara: "All right. Students, impromptu field trip!"

Brennan: *screaming* "And a burning sigil appears on the ground and you see a portal opens up, and you are looking at the Bottomless Pit. And you see Baby goes,"

Baby: "Oh, Mistress!"

Fig: "Hey, Wretchrot. Can we have a field trip?"

Baby: "Ah, yes! Everyone has to lick me!" 😂😂

Fig: "Well, he's the boss!"

Zara: "Is he the boss?"

Fig: "He is the boss I work for."

Zara: "Demon, no- Er, Devil" *hand motions* *magical surge* *abjures Wretchrot*

Baby: "Ah! She's killing me!" *flies away*

Brennan: "And all these Warlock students sort of, like, gingerly step through this flaming portal and you see yourself back in the Bottomless Pit. You see there's a bunch of harried-looking little spine devils and barbed devils going like,"

Devil: *grunting* "Mistress." *rubbing hands together*

Fig: "I had this actually other crazy idea. Sorry, I'm so all over the place. I was thinking we could set up a recording studio."

Devil: "A recording studio."

Fig: "Are you guys good sound technicians?"

Devil: "Hold on one second."

Brennan: "They open a pair of double doors. It is a sort of grand cathedral-esque waiting room with almost like city hall style pews. It is crammed with souls. It is just crammed with damned souls being like,"

Damned soul: "Oh, thank God."

Brennan: "And you see they come in and all the devils go,"

The devils: "We've been waiting to hear from you for some time. We're not sure how to process these. These are all edge cases and, sort of, we need a ruling on a lot of them."

Fig: "Ruling. Okay, blanket ruling: I condemn you all to rock!"

One guy way in the back: "Nooooo!"

Brennan: "And a bunch of other people start looking around and talking. And you see this one guy who's got like-"

Fig: "If you're here it's 'cause something ****** up happened in your life. Work it out in a ******* guitar, process through some nasty distorted amp. I want you to blow out the ******* electricity in here!"

Baby: *re-manifests* "Ha ha, you heard mistress. You must turn this room into the bangingest sound studio that the Nine Hells have ever seeeeen. And then lick meeee!" 😂😂

Fig: "You guys actually don't have to do that last part. Yeah."

The one guy way in the back: "Nooooo!"

Fig: "You can. You can."

Brennan: "And you see that all of these damned souls begin to toil in the burning heat. Then sort of start constructing, like, booths. So you see that one of the barbed devils goes- with a nasty cat of nine tails is like,"

Barbed devil: "Get foam!" *whip cracking*

Fig: "No, no, no. We can't do that."

Emily: "Can I take his little nine of cat tails and give him a guitar?"

Barbed devil: *starts playing a guitar*

Ally: "He's a noodler! Oh no, he's a noodler!"

Barbed devil: *weeping* "The music feels so good!" *keeps playing guitar*

Fig: "Okay. Yeah."

[sweetestpopcorn]

How do you feel about Snape from Harry Potter? Do you think that he is similar to Ser Criston Cole in some ways?

Hi there and sorry for this huge delay... I wish you a very I live in shame.

I am going to begin by making it clear this answer concerns ONLY the asoiaf canon (books), so any redacted fans kindly move along. Thank you.

So, I don't see how anyone would think that Snape is in any significant way similar to Criston Cole. Yes both are ambitious, cunning in a sense, and brave, but who they are at heart, their journey and their ending is world's apart.

The whole point of Severus Snape as a character is that he starts of being presented to us as a villain of sorts - from Harry's perspective - even looks wise, he is a typical villain. The way he dresses, the greasy hair, not very handsome (to be kind), his beak of a nose. His House, Slytherin, another token of his evil ways if you would. Another clue that he's bad. What we come to find along the way is that actually, it's not as easy as that.

Severus Snape is a grey character, perhaps as grey as it can get. He has done some very selfish and reprehensible things, and at the same time, there's a lot of good in him, bravery as well. The beauty of it is that it does not erase any of the bad that he has done, or it is if people can understand nuance it only adds to the complexity of his character, because you can do good things and have qualities and still choose wrong at times and be a less than good person. It's good. It's human. It's amazing writing and understanding of the human heart at conflict with itself.

That's not the case with Criston Cole. Unlike with Snape, there's no redemption for him, and besides his skill as a fighter and military commander, and his bravery since he never once backed down from a fight, there's really no redeeming qualities to him. He's not a character who changed but rather one who revealed himself and didn't reveal anything good. He's not grey, he's a villain. A good villain for sure, as his physical appearance - at least when he was young - does not let on about his rotten nature. Unlike the villains we are used to reading about, he's young at the start, charming, handsome. He has black hair and green eyes, very much a Baratheon look, and Robert too was once described as being a maiden's dream. Criston's occupation would also speak of honour and high character, he's a man of the Kingsguard. His death, however, and his decisions, speak for themselves and he's a very good example of a "show don't tell" sort of villain. Nothing bad about him is ever told, but everything is shown -> using a child to move up in the world, being a creep to said child, turning on a woman he was said to love when she does not live up to his twisted version of her, spending the rest of his life trying to destroy her, and lastly dying in a pathetic way.

About their relationships with the women they "loved", there's very little if anything in common.

Snape and Lily started out as friends. They were the same age and went to school together. Snape knew what Lily was, he knew that she was like him, and he liked her. It's finding another like him that first draws him to her. They became friends but for the most part, they had a very clear view of who the other one was, there was little delusion. Lily liked Snape but she was not afraid to call him out when she thought he was in the wrong. For the most part I would say they have a healthy friendship. Lily was maybe at times not the friend Snape wanted but the one he needed. Their final break in a sense shows this and how much Snape had lost himself, and to this, Lily was never blind. Even then though, and even through his humiliation, Snape never stops loving Lily, in a selfish way sure, but he never tries to harm her directly and he continues to try to protect her, again in a selfish way, but he does. It's only love from him to her, and Lily liked him very much, as a friend yes, but she did until she realised, or decided, he was going down a path she could not condone.

Criston and Rhaenyra are a completely different story. They were "friends" of sorts once, but more like in a companion sort of way and they were certainly never similar, this is not what first draws either of them to the other. Criston starts of as a grown man who takes advantage of a little girl - Rhaenyra was 8 and he was 23 - and tries to woo her to get a position at court and later on as a member of the Kingsguard, by means of being a favourite of the King's daughter. He watches Rhaenyra grow, being very clear that she had a major crush on him, uses this to his advantage and later on starts to develop feelings for her as well. Then, when she destroys his image of her - by either not being a poor maiden and rejecting the saviour that the white knight wants to be, or by trying to seduce him, depending on the version you believe - he turns vicious and starts to hate her. I would not call it love turned hate as much as I would call it a sort of obsession turned hate. And between them, I would say there was a mutual deception much more than a true friendship. Once it vanishes, Rhaenyra forgets about him and cuts him off and he hates her and tries to destroy her until the end of his days.

The dynamics between the Criston and Snape could not be more different. The development of the two characters are worlds apart as well, and where they start too.

I see nothing in common or at least nothing that is worthy of note, or of creating parallels between them that are not hollow and cheap - like most parallels are tbh.

Characters who resemble Criston and his obsession would be much more along the lines of Frollo (The Hunchback of Notre Dame) or Leôncio (Escrava Isaura). There is something of bookJorah Mormont in him as well, though the two start in opposing ways in a sense, and there's also definitely something of Humbert Humbert (Lolita) about him with how different his version of Rhaenyra is from the real her. But in a way Criston is none of them, I think he's more complex still in a way that he's a villain. It's very subtle and not said, and it's important to note he would never be painted in too bad a light since he was on the side who got to write history - though it's pretty clear Eustace doesn't like him as he was willing to throw him under the bus, which is very interesting - which leads too many people to thinking there has to be more.

No, there isn't. There's doesn't need to be. Not every twisted person is deranged and in your face evil, and some villains - the best ones - think of themselves as doing the right thing, as the heroes of their story. As a Kingmaker, giving the crown to the one they deem worthy. And not every villain needs something to have triggered him to "become" evil, something many seem to think needs to have happened with Criston Cole. And if I can add, this idea that there's a switch that turns us evil or good is quite dangerous. Like I said before, from the start he knew what he was doing, he was ambitious, he knew what he wanted, and whatever his reason for turning on Rhaenyra was, it has to do with how she affronted him and destroyed his image of her.

In a way perhaps Snape and Criston can be a lesson of sorts. In the first you have someone you would naturally think a villain, in the second, you have someone you would naturally consider a hero. But the twist is, that the hero might be a bitter not very attractive man who did a lot of wrongs, and the villain might be the once charming and handsome white knight who used a little girl and then wanted to destroy the woman she became.

[stackthedeck]

Can you imagine if someone, After they unmask Spider-Man, do the math about the age he started fighting crime.

I Can imagine some of his enemies being like "oh god, I almost killed a kid"

Or some of his friend being horrified by how young he was. Especially when they discover it was at this age he gain a guilt complex

respectfully, what spider-man villain has a problem with fighting children lmao like I see this joke a lot about Peter's villains freaking out about fighting a teenager, but I think the substantially funnier joke is that no one gives a shit about Peter being a kid. Real fuck them kids energy you know?

Do we, collectively as Spider-Man fans, actually think any of Peter's villains give a shit. Like the only one I could imagine having hesitations is maybe the Punisher but he shows up when Peter is an adult. Like villains introduced before Amazing Spider-Man #30? Norman doesn't have a problem with hitting kids canonically, Doc Ock is like that, etc. Maybe the Lizard, Connors is cool but idk early Lizard appearances show him as having pretty limited control when he's the Lizard. Idk I'll think on which Spider-Man villains draw the line at killing a teenager

also i promise i'm not trying to be mean... but like I think his friends would not give a single shit about him being spider-man at 16. like say Harry by nothing short of a fanfic miracle, survives and works through everything after his dad's death and forgives Peter. what's he going to do feel bad that his dad was hitting him too? I mean probably, but like they've got a lot of shit to unpack together. Flash enlisted in the army at 18 and really admired Spider-Man before and after he knew he was Peter, I think he sees it as nothing but heroic. MJ canonically always knew because of a retcon that I think is bullshit, but nonetheless. Gwen never knew Peter was Spider-Man which I do think is one of the greatest missed opportunities of comic books, maybe she'd have a bigger reaction to him starting young, but like she'd have a bigger crisis to deal with if she found out. Shit, what other friends does Peter have? Johnny Storm? The dude that started at 15, yeah he'd make fun of Peter for getting into the game late. My niece was fighting Doctor Doom when she was six, web-head, sorry the shocker brained you before your SATs lmao

I think why I'm struggling with his friends having any reaction to like Peter's age is that when they do find out they're not that far removed from 16, they remember being that young and feeling like they were basically adults. I mean you're not basically an adult at 16, you just feel like it, but really the idea is only horrifying to us as the reader because we're not the intended audience of the high school years anymore. kinda like reading hunger games hits different when you're frontal cortex finishes cooking

I think the only kind of person that would have to have a reaction to Peter starting being a hero so young would have to be like someone with good parents and a stable home life and in comic books that's just the latest generation of heroes and like they did a whole arc about it

[tuliprry]

cloudburst 3

summary: preschool teacher!harry x special education teacher!yn; y/n and harry met while working together at a preschool, y/n is engaged but her fiancé has been distancing himself from y/n, making her spend more time with harry, wishing she was marrying him instead

warnings: cheating, cursing, death

clover's notes: hi guys i didn't proof read i'm sorry :(

word count: 3k

part 1 part 2

harry's pov

the drive back home feels endless, i don't know what came through my head to sleep with y/n, worse, cum inside her like that. my car smells like her, smells like woody amber and vanilla, i've dreamed of this smell lingering on my skin for over a year and now i can't even enjoy it. almost like in a film, my car is parked and there's muffled screams and my fists hitting the dashboard, what the fuck, what did i just do? an almost married woman? an almost ex married woman... y/n... my y/n. i got out of the car, grabbing my briefcase, my legs feel heavy and i don't know how i'm gonna climb 3 flights of stairs nor how i'm gonna tell my best friend i just had the best sex of my life and it happened to me with the one woman i couldn't have. stupid, i'm so stupid. 

niall and i live in a two bedroom apartment in lisson grove, meaning a short (usual) 9 minute drive from y/n's flat, our apartment isn't too big, when you walk you immediately see a round table and two chairs, there’s some letters on top of it and niall’s house keys, against the wall there’s our tan sofa, in front of it an also tan coffee table with our second hand tv, one of the other walls is covered by a big bookshelf with books mostly from my collection. through the white door there’s our kitchen with a cream colour palette i grew to love in the time i’ve lived here, it isn’t the biggest of kitchens but it’s definitely one of my favourite places in the house, the kitchen island has niall’s yet to be washed dishes on top of it and two mismatched high stools. there’s 3 doors in one of the walls, my bedroom, the bathroom and niall’s bedroom, niall’s bedroom is slightly bigger than mine, he has a light wood ikea bedframe and his bed is always unmade, his bedside table has always cds or vinyls he has gotten at his job, as well as a record player that he got along with our tv, a big comfy chair that has his to-do laundry all over it, both os us have desks in our bedrooms, even though i firmly believe that working in the bedroom is a terrible thing to do. his desk is way more organised than mine, it’s basically the desk and his laptop and his shiny guitar rested next to the table, next to it there’s his wardrobe, also light wood from ikea. niall’s walls are light blue (that took us wait too long to paint) and he has a medium window that makes sure the sun shines right in his face, as well as pictures of us and trips we have made since we moved in together 10 years ago. our bathroom is just your typical british bathroom there’s nothing new i could possibly add. and lastly my bedroom, my bed is similar to niall’s, except i have bunny sheets and way too many pillows, my bedside table is crowded with a lamp and a bunch of books, i have a big fiddle leaf fig right against my window, and a decent sized mirror next to it, as well as the exact same wardrobe as niall and a small shoe rack. and finally now the messiest place in my bedroom, my desk, it has letters, books, pens, pencils, kids’ drawings, my desktop, mugs and glasses, my chair has a blue bathrobe i always forget to hang in the bathroom and in the corner an acoustic guitar niall got me for my 25th birthday. 

so, when i open the front door, everything is the same, niall is watching women’s eurocup and it smells like hot water, meaning the kettle had been on recently, i place my coat on the coat hanger by the door, “hello! i thought you were out by 4pm! was starting to get worried about you!” niall spoke, i placed my briefcase on one of the chairs and sat next to him, feeling exhausted, i didn’t know where to start nor even if i should mention what i had done to niall. “niall” my voice almost vanished as i said his name, “mate? what’s up?”, his worry is genuine i figure, “i did something bad” i muttered, placing my elbows on my thighs as my face met my hands, trying to hide somehow, “i didn’t come home earlier because i just.. i just had sex with y/n” i ripped the words out of mouth, niall, had just taken a bite out of a blueberry muffin, through the corner of my eye i saw the muffin hit the carpeted floor, “YOU?? WHAT??” he raises his voice in shock, “FUCK MY MUFFIN!” i couldn’t help but let out a laugh at niall’s reaction, even without trying this man has always found a way to make me smile even in moments in all seriousness like right now. “first, you owe me a muffin, secondly.. how did that happen? actually spare me, but.. what the fuck? is she not engaged to that…thomas? t.. tenis ball guy?” he was dead serious about the muffin, as well as calling tony tennis ball because he always refused to remember his name, “tony.. and yeah she was.. or is? i don’t know, she came into the classroom, grabbed my face and… well yeah!” i move my hands exaggeratedly, “we had sex, really good sex and we ended up finding out we had done it before. at that party in uni! the one u had those really bad shrimp cocktails and threw up and we had to go home before midnight”, niall’s light skin is now flushed, we never mention this story out of his sake, he has never been that sick at a party ever, “i cockblocked u and y/n?? god fuck man, but wait.. she’s not getting married anymore?” he takes a sip of his tea and i proceed to tell him everything that went down between y/n and tony. i happen to know exactly what’s on niall’s mind, he has a big crush on joey and he’s definitely messaging her the moment i shut up. “apparently tony has been cheating on her with half on london..”, as soon as the words came out of my mouth  i felt a tug on my heart, talking about something i could never do, especially to y/n, “that sucks, why are you marrying someone just to cheat on them?”, “i could seriously not tell u”.

the rest of the night went like usual, niall and i have known each other for so long we actually have started a nighttime routine, we watch reality tv, currently hooked on love island as we have dinner, niall does have a better time in social situations than i do, we used to be both very outgoing and always at parties but ever since i started by job like for real, i have been stuck in an old guy routine. “you’re not giving your amazing commentary, harry” niall states waving his hand in front of my face, “sorry, can’t help but think about y/n…” niall gives me a gentle smile, “call her c’mon” he encourages me and points at my phone, “i’m sure she’s waiting for your call”.

the truth is, i hoped she was waiting for my call, i dreamed that she was no longer thinking about her ex fiancé and was dreaming of me, still thinking of my lips against her neck as my hands traveled through her body, god how i craved gripping onto her love handles like earlier today, jesus christ harry calm your dick down.

the last week fly by, i have spent so much time with y/n i think i’m hooked, she’s my drug and i can’t let go, besides spending every minute together at school we have been spending every minute together out of it as well, on monday after we finished class i couldn’t help but kiss her right there, i haven’t craved someone this way, especially not someone going through a break up, for a minute there i feared i would just be a rebound for y/n but i brushed it off my mind quickly, we baked bread together that monday afternoon as we watched mamma mia. that was one of the most beautiful moments i hope it’ll remain tattooed on my brain, y/n wearing a bunny apron and reading a very complicated recipe followed by a “god who the fuck bakes bread this easily” to my reply, “well i worked in a bakery back when year 10 through 13”, “so you could’ve baked me bread everyday mr styles?”, “i will bake everything you want me to”, followed by a very theatrical singing of “money, money, money” and dancing in y/n’s tiny kitchen.

tuesday, y/n, joey, niall and i went to the cake tasting that was supposed to be y/n’s, as she said, she wouldn’t let so many cake options go to waste when she had her friends to try a stupid amount of different cakes with her, i couldn’t help but feel a little angry thinking about tony as well worried that y/n was acting like he never existed and maybe wasn’t even healing properly and chose to live this life of pretending that he was never a real person… wednesday our school day was hard, the dad of one of the kids barged in yelling at y/n for her kids sharing space with mine, he was tall and looked like he lived in a gym yet y/n felt taller than him, i had never seen her yell that way:

“i don’t understand how those kids can even be in the same space as my son”

“i have emailed you a thousand times that i needed to talk to you as i believe your son has severe anxiety and can’t even eat next to other kids” 

“that’s simply not true that’s influence from your [redacted because we don’t write slurs in these fanfics] kids”

“i need you to get out or i’m gonna report you for harassment and please do find an hour to sit down with me and your son because he needs a little extra help and i have the tools for it”

“my son is not-“

“get out!”

so, after that we decided it would be good to cool off, find a yoga class and meditate for a bit, we ended up in my flat following a youtube video that led to y/n making fun of me for my lack of coordination and shortly after a very needed cooling off making out session that ended up in, not gonna lie, the best sex of my life.

on thursday we watched another romcom, this time the bridget jones’ diary, we fell asleep when the film ended with a sweet purring pickles at the end of the bed and got woken up to joey coming home, i just wasn’t expecting to hear niall’s voice following her. “y/n.. is that niall?” i whisper putting the laptop screen down, “what is niall doing here with joey?” y/n sits in bed trying to listen to the conversation going on in the living room. “why are they so quiet?” y/n asks quietly, “oh god do you think they’re kissing?”, “you think??”. 

“niall shush! i don’t know if my sister is home” joey whisper screams, “oh joey c’mon we have been dating for a month! don’t you think it’s time for us to tell?” niall immediately replies, “a month????? did you know?” y/n looks at me with a shocked face,  “i knew he liked her but i didn’t know they were properly dating.. what the fuck” i say mid gasp, "keep listening" y/n replies. "niall... my sister would immediately get all motherly if she found out im dating a guy that is 9 years older than me, she feels like she has to replace our mum sometimes", i look over at y/n and her expression changes from wanting to snoop and giggle to tears gently forming in her eyes, "oh y/n no don't cry i'm sure she didn't mean it in a bad way, you worry and she's 20.. we didn't listen to anyone in our 20s" i say as i wrap my arms around her upper body, she rests her head on my chest and cries softly for a little bit just in her sniffles in the silence. all that y/n has told me about her relationship with joey is y/n taking care of joey 99% of the time since their mum passed, i personally could not imagine my sister being in her place and having to suddenly take care of me and change her life for me, so i got both of their sides, i understood y/n because she does what my sister would do, not let me go ever and take care of me like i'm the only thing that matters in her life... but i also get joey and feeling like someone had to give up on their life for me. i know y/n doesn't see it that way, she always talks about her sister with such love in her words, she loves going on book shopping with her sister and sharing her opinion on fictional men, they always get oat milk cappuccino's at costa's after and then come home to comment on love island, much like niall and i. 

i kiss her forehead and lay my head on top of hers, i don't really know what to say, y/n is a book i'm still reading and finding out how to approach, "i'm sorry harry.. sometimes i just forget that joey is a kid and she needs her sister more than she needs... a... mum" y/n's words are trembling in between the sniffles as i caress her eyebrows, almost brushing them with my fingers, "no baby, it's your sister and you have that feeling towards her it's understandable", "she hid a boyfriend from me", "well at least we know it's niall"

today is friday, fridays are usually my best day at work, the kids are excited about the weekend and i get to think about my sofa waiting for me for exactly 2 days, not that i thought it would happen this weekend by the amount of subtle warnings coming from y/n, with subtle i mean fully sending me a picture of the lingerie she's wearing under the beige turtleneck and light blue jeans yet she looks like nothing happened, braiding a little girl's hair after a very upsetting throwing up in the bathroom, in times like this i can't help it, i daydream of y/n and our kids, how she would be the most perfect mum in the entire world, "harry can you please get me sofia's guardian on the phone? she's clean but i feel like maybe it's better if she goes home and gets some rest" she looks at me, peeking over the little girl's head, "i'm on it", i get up and rush to the main hall to find the number. 

"oh hi harry! um do u know if y/n has a minute or two" a very sweet yet shaky voice pronounces, i look up and see joey, still with her waterstones tag and short hair clipped back by two grey clips, "one of her kids threw up and she's kinda busy but i can tell her you're here if you'd like!”, joey looked seriously worried and i pressed my lips together as i walked back to the classroom, “hey.. here’s sofia guardian’s phone number” i hand in the paper with the number, “also joey is outside, i don’t know what happened but she doesn’t look good.. go talk to her, i’ll help sofia pack her things and call her mum it’s okay” i place my hand on top of y/n’s shoulder and rub it a little, “joey? oh good lord. you sure you don’t mind harry?”, “what? y/n of course not, go check on her”.

and like agreed i stayed packing sofia’s backpack, she’s 4 years old, has long brown curly hair and loves care bears, her favourite being tenderheart, the same as mine which leads to a lot of tenderheart bear stickers on my briefcase when i’m not looking and drawings on my desk first thing in the morning, even though i believe she prefers y/n’s teaching to mine, i would also respond well to anything y/n tried to teach me if i have to be totally honest.

it’s now 9:30pm, y/n and i are walking back to her home after our semi-date, semi date because we aren’t really dating but we just went to the cinema and shared a big bucket of popcorn, “so.. joey?” i ask, niall always says i’m the snoopiest person he knows, “oh… joey had a panic attack at work and that’s why i went home earlier, she did tell me about niall, said the secret was eating her alive” y/n gives a worried smile and intertwines her hand in mine, “she’s better now, she said she was going to call niall so they could hang out for a bit while we were at the cinema”, “do you think it’ll work between them?”, i ask, genuinely, niall is one of my best friends but his relationships always end up with him listening to the most heartbreaking songs and bad 90s films, “well, knowing joey.. her standards are high, all the men she ever loved were our front door neighbour back home and fictional men that were written by women”, “she’s a wise woman”, “she has her days of absolutely handling adult life better than i do”, “y/n” i call out, “yes?”, she looks up at me…

“do you regret leaving..-“

“harry i really don’t and i don’t want u to think i’m using you to forget him.. i really like you and i don’t want.. you to think that i’m using you for great sex and as a rebound” 

“i don’t think that”

“you don’t?”

“no, i think you’re the future mother of my children” 

“harry.”

“i mean it” 

please tell me if u want to be added to taglist!

taglist: @psicostyles @behindmygreyeyes @your-local-lesbian-on-lexapro @mvaldez7821 @tiktokandtvismylife @silvermistwannabe @harrysgoldenhome @subbbyharry @buckybarnessimpp @gabshouse @sassqwn @thegirlnextdoorssister @theanxietyqueen17

[sourholland]

Glamorous || Tom Holland

Part Eleven

| Series Masterlist |

Summary → In this Princess Diana retelling, you are working in a nursery school as an aid in London, as well as a part time nanny. With slight aristocratic ties, you choose to live a more normal and mundane life. When the Prince of Wales comes to know you and bring you into the spotlight, everything changes. Truths coming too late, lies straining your relationship, and the impending future of the country falling on your shoulders. Is this really the stuff of which fairytales are made?

AN → Feedback is greatly appreciated and inspires me to update this story lol. ALSO to those of you who read “A Royal Convenience”, did you pick up on that little easter egg???!!

Pairing(s) → Prince!Tom x Princess!Reader

Warnings → Language, Mentions of Sex

Word Count → 2.0k

March, 1986 - You’ve left me no choice

His name was Major Stephen Harris.

He stood just over six foot tall. He was kind to you, and not only that but he was handsome and helped ease the nagging loneliness. An officer in the army, a hardworking man with life skills and ambition. Only a year your senior as well.

He was your riding instructor for a time. Only after the prolonged sadness consumed you did he become anything more. However, you did not love him. Not the way you love Tom, the way you love your family.

Stephen was a temporary way to ease the pain of your marriage crumbling. He came along on those nights you couldn’t be alone, when Tom was away doing God knows what. The staff knew, therefore the King and Queen knew as well. However, as unfortunate as the unfaithfulness was on both sides, the whole family knew that Tom’s infidelity had only been a catalyst.

This is when you and Tom were both sat down in front of his parents and given no choice. Nicola had called you both in, saying this behavior from two adults was unheard of and she would be putting a stop to it.

As you both arrived at Buckingham Palace in separate vehicles, you were escorted in and sat down outside of the Queen’s drawing room to wait. Neither of you met the other’s gaze, as this encounter was both incredibly embarrassing and hard to handle.

“Their Majesties will see you now,” a member of the staff said, opening the double doors.

Both of you walked in, giving your respects by bowing and curtsying for both the King and Queen. She motioned you to sit, a pinched look on her face. King Dominic looked rather put off, unable to grasp the intervention that was sitting two adults down for scolding.

“The show that you’ve both insisted on putting on has been nothing but an embarrassment to the institution,” the Queen remarked. “Tom, I thought I’d raised you better than to disrespect the Crown as you have, and continually done. And Y/N, I truly thought different of you as you entered this family.”

“Mother,” Tom began, but was swiftly cut off by his annoyed father.

“Tom, you’re a bloody fool if you think I will stand to watch you throw your perfectly good family away for nonsense. You’ve everything anyone could ever want in life, including a loving wife and children. I can’t stand to watch this any longer! I’ve heard the last of it!”

The room fell into a tense silence, Tom looking utterly defeated. You looked at him, the curve of his jaw and dip of his lips. You saw all of the happy, beautiful memories you’d shared together and all of the things that had come out of your marriage. Henry and James were, and would remain for the rest of your life, your biggest accomplishment.

“Tom, I do love you. I am willing to do whatever it takes to show you this, and to make this marriage work. That’s all I want, I just want to make you happy,” you confessed. “I’m sorry I have not done my absolute hardest to do my part to be the best wife possible.”

He went rigid in his seat, staring at his hands like a bemused child. Tears spilled generously from your waterline, cheeks hot, chest heavy. He would be the death of you.

“I want to be good to you, I made a vow,” you whispered.

“Very well,” said the King. “That settles it! You will both let go of this insolence, this—this spoiled attitude! I wash my hands of it, of the headlines, of the whispers. Tom, you are beyond a lucky man. I believe you forget yourself.”

The moment seemed to have stopped, utter silence broke out and you’d swore you could hear a pin drop.

Lately it had been so hard to get out of bed, to go about your day. Neither the King nor Queen knew this. They saw only the surface level, perhaps they were right, though. You were lucky, you were spoiled, you were a fortunate woman—but God, you were so lonely.

“Walk with me, Thomas,” his mother said lowly, beckoning him up and out of the room.

Left with only the King, you wiped your childish tears and made crescents out of your fingernails into the flesh of your palm. He looked at you sorrowfully, his pointed features burned into your brain.

“I haven’t one clue why Tom would choose Eleanor over you, I really haven’t,” he admitted aloud.

“Sir,” you choked out. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I mean to say that my son is a fool. I sympathize with you, truly.”

-

Later that night, Tom entered your bedroom of Kensington Palace. This was the first time in months that he had come to see you in the night. His white button down was loose and wrinkled, untucked from his trousers.

The boys were asleep, you were staring into the mirror of your vanity when he sat solemnly on the edge of the bed. Eyes meeting his through the reflection, you felt like that same nineteen year old girl. She was naive, charmed easy.

Except you were no longer that little girl, and he was no longer that same prince. He was nearing thirty, you now twenty five. Neither of you said anything, really you just sat there stiffly, hoping he’d say something.

“I have not been good to you,” he admitted.

“Tom, I’m not going to fuck you—if that’s what you’ve come in here for.”

The words left your mouth before you could even process them. He looked taken aback, not necessarily disappointed or surprised. He shook his head at you, the corner of his lip upturning just slightly.

“No, that is not why I’ve sought you out. I do appreciate the candidness, though.”

He looked around. Apart of you wondered what he was thinking. He saw all of the pictures scattered around, your record player and all of the music you’d been collecting for years. He’d always loved your love for music, or at least he’d acted as if he did.

“You’ve been with this Major Harris?” He asked, making you snap in his direction.

“Fuck you, Tom!” You seethed at his selfish, conceited question.

He truly was taken aback by your attitude, squinting at you like you were a whole different person. The air felt stale, you felt flustered and slightly embarrassed. Tom only sighed and shuffled his feet.

“I only ask because I’ve heard things about you, the staff talks,” he commented.

“Let them,” you said flatly. “My loyalty has always been with you, can you say the same thing?”

He stilled, looking down at his feet and shaking his head, ashamed. Apart of you wondered if he could be a good man, if he could want to repair your marriage in the way you did. He flexed his hand, looking back up at you with teary eyes.

“Helen told me that it is in the nature of a man like yourself,” you laughed menacingly. “That there was never a Prince of Wales who was not unfaithful to his wife.”

“Mother told me stories of an ancestor of mine, my namesake actually,” he sniffled with an ironic laugh. “Around the nineteenth century, a certain Prince Thomas married a young French Princess. She says they remained in love until the day they died. Him shortly before her, she mourned for the rest of her life.”

“That’s lovely,” you responded. “Too bad you’ve yet to live up to such a beautiful memory.”

There was a part of you giving in, letting his tricks suck you back in. Immediately, you eradicated it. This could not keep happening. If he wanted to repair this marriage, he’d have to make that clear himself.

“Leave, Tom. We can speak more on the matter tomorrow.”

“Y/N,” he breathed out. “Couldn’t you just—”

“Tom, I am twenty five years old. I won’t be made out to be the child you once knew. I meant every word I said earlier, but I am no fool. The only time you do this, the only time you come to me begging for forgiveness is when the guilt finally becomes too much.”

-

April, 1986 - What is worth fixing?

Both you and Sam rode on horseback outside his property. He was giving you looks from time to time, most looking like they stemmed from disapproval.

“Are you going to tell me why you keep looking at me like that?” You asked in a laugh.

“Mum has informed me that you and Tom are over your ‘rough patch’, and are hopelessly in love once more.”

This, you found funny. Sam clearly did not find it as humorous. While it was definitely an exaggeration, you’d cut Major Harris out of your life and had begun to focus on salvaging your marriage. Tom had been good, he was seemingly trying for the same thing as you.

“For the boys,” you responded. “We’re trying to remain a unit for the boys.”

“What about for you? Aren’t you going to do what Y/N wants?” He asked in all seriousness, patting the mane of the horse.

“I love him,” you said finally.

Sam sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, he only wanted the best for you. He and Elizabeth were happy, you envied them. It wasn’t so easy in your position.

“I do not know that he is capable of love. Do not let him fool you.”

-

Easter came quick enough, leaving the whole family to join together at Balmoral for festivities.

You and Tom drove in the same car with the boys, the first time you’d driven together in ages. Somewhat because Tom had never had to do much driving himself, there was always someone to do it for him. You, however, preferred to drive yourself everywhere.

While everyone trickled in, Sam sat idly by his mother’s side. She was telling him about her recent charity engagements and asking about his family life. They had grown closer over the years. Sam and Harry were now both married, Paddy twenty three and maintaining a respectable bachelor lifestyle.

“Mum?” Sam said aloud. “I don’t want to have to be the person to tell you—but I don’t believe you should prolong Y/N and Tom’s marriage any longer.”

“Are you suggesting they separate?” She seemed taken aback. “Samuel, I’ve heard they’re happier than ever before.”

“You don’t understand—”

“No. It is a holiday, you will not start with this nonsense! It is not your marriage, therefore it is not your concern!”

Sam stayed silent, knowing his mother was partially right. He heard the noise of children playing in the distance, meaning the arrival of his brothers and their wives. Somberly, he slumped down into his chair.

“I don’t understand, Samuel. Could you tell me what it is that I am not understanding? Tom is lucky, Y/N is lucky. They are two of the most fortunate people in the world and all I hear is endless complaining!”

“Tom and Y/N are only perceived as perfect because they are the fairytale that everyone’s gotten off to since 1980,” Sam started. “When in reality, it’s hardly a fairytale at all.”

The Queen sat puzzled, her hands folded neatly in front of her as she urged Sam to continue. He sighed in frustration and tried to figure out how to say what he wished in a way she’d be able to understand.

“Once upon a time there was a beautiful young girl, not yet a woman, but not still a child. She went on to fall in love with a handsome prince, who was already in love with someone else.”

The Queen’s face fell, her face almost expressionless.

“And in the end, they both lived unhappily ever after,” said Sam, finally.

taglist - @ninacotte @justapurrcat @allthisfortommy @spideyspeaches @veryholland @teenagedisxster @itsallyscorner @tomsirishgirl @runawayolives @devcarlsons @thecodyexpress @kassey @casualprincess77 @outshineallthestars @readheadwriter @cleverzonkwombatsludge @sarcasm-and-stiles @liltimmyst @moniffazictress11

[hp-soulmates]

💞 HP Soulmates: Fated 2 Be - Week 4 Roundup 💞

Our penultimate week is now over — how time flies! Are you looking for a nice fic (or podfic!) to curl up with today? Here are all the soulmates works posted this past week for the fest:

💞 [FIC] Small Silver Linings 💞 (T, Severus/Hermione, 33k)

Three touches – that's what it takes to activate an ancient Merfolk binding magic, long forgotten in the wizarding world, and only applied to humans under rare circumstances. When Hermione Granger gets marked by the queen of the Merpeople during the Triwizard Tournament, she doesn't know that she is bestowed with the ability to recognize her soulmate. Quite unfortunate so, Severus Snape would rather pretend to be dead than face is insufferable soulmate. However, he had made the calculations without Hermione, who is not so easily discouraged.

💞 [FIC] unless you're choosing me 💞 (M, Draco/Ron, 31k)

A soulmate was a choice. It was two people deciding to spend the rest of their lives together, weathering any storm. That was a fact that Ron would hold as truth for the rest of his life. Even when the Unspeakables found a spell in some ancient text that tied soulmates together with a red cord and showed them a moment of their "true love". It was a hoax, he was sure of it. But no one else agreed, willing to upend their lives just because a stupid spell said so. Ron wouldn't have minded so much if it hadn't wrecked his.

💞 [PODFIC] Finders Keepers 💞 (T, Harry/Severus, 50 min)

Based on the fic by Lilian Severus Snape doesn't find a single thing until he's twenty. By that time, he has given up and ignores a young boy, when he arrives at Hogwarts.

💞 [FIC] Invisible String 💞 (G, Harry/Severus, 3.7k)

The first time Harry saw Snape's black eyes — him truly acknowledging Snape's existence beyond him being his mean professor — it was the night after Harry killed Professor Quirrell. He was dreaming and in his dreams he was screaming. Harry dreams of Severus over the years.

💞 [FIC] He’s already in me 💞 (T, Severus/Remus, 2.9k)

On the night of Dumbledore’s death, Lupin’s mark appeared.

💞 [FIC] Stories that end and begin 💞 (M, Tom/Harry, 4k)

Tom had been right. Now that he was in his fifth year at Hogwarts, he could state that Soulmates were a nuisance. With the exception of a few souls who could consider themselves lucky, most of them were forced to put up with people they despised and who would do no good for their future.

💞 [FIC] Sparks 💞 (E, Draco/Harry, 20k)

“I’m sorry,” Draco turned to him, “are we boring you?” Greg looked up. “No, I’m just hungry, and you’re taking far too long to just tell them that you and Potter are soulmates. Do you have to be this dramatic?” There was a moment of silence, before all hell broke loose. Harry didn't know soulmates existed until he was fourteen. He wasn't sure what he imagined it would be like, but he knew it wasn't this. But that's not to say he didn't like it.

💞 [FIC] i will love you even if the oceans turn to sawdust and the trees fall in the forest without anyone around to hear them 💞 (E, Narcissa/Lily, 60k)

Anything your soulmate draws on their skin appears on your skin. And the universe has a really fucked up definition of "drawing." The story follows Lily from childhood to early adulthood.

[denimbex1986]

'******

Now in cinemas, 'All of Us Strangers' does not only have the hyped acting star Paul Mescal in common with last year's big indie film hit, 'Aftersun' . Both when it comes to themes and cinematic storytelling, the two dramas could form a fantastic, longing double bill .

'All of Us Strangers' is Andrew Haigh's sixth feature film - and it already stands as an undoubted masterpiece in his career.

With gems like 'Weekend', '45 Years' and 'Looking', the English film and series creator has already established himself as a formidable character director and screenwriter with an exemplary flair for natural and compelling dialogue scenes.

In his new film, Haigh, inspired by the Japanese Taichi Yamada's novel 'Shadowland' from 1987, adds a metaphysical layer to his narrative, which suits his emotionally authentic film universe immeasurably well.

Like 'Aftersun', 'All of Us Strangers' is about grief, complex childhood memories and a sense of distance from one's parents. Andrew Scott plays the middle-aged, single and lonely screenwriter Adam, who lives a life of stagnation. He looks back in time more than he looks forward.

One day a man about 20 years younger, Paul Mescal's Harry, knocks on the door. Harry lives in the same, half-empty block of flats in London and, with a fair blood alcohol level, makes sexual advances. After some hesitation on Adam's part, the two men begin to bond – first physically, then emotionally.

At the same time, Adam seeks out two more complex relationships: The relationship with his parents, who died abruptly in a car accident when he was just 12 years old. Adam thus takes the train ride back to his old childhood home and inexplicably meets his father and mother, played by Jamie Bell and Claire Foy. They are the same age as when they passed away, but this is not just about memories. Because Adam is the same age as he is today, and they talk about the things that are happening in his life right now.

Is he dreaming or is it really happening? In any case, it is not a question of nostalgia-tinged glossy images. The scenes with the parents are characterized by the joy of reunion, but also by conflict and pent-up regret, especially when it comes to Adam's sexuality.

"They say it's a lonely life," says his well-intentioned but awkward mother, when Adam can finally do what he never managed to do: jump out for her. "I'm sorry I didn't come in when I heard you cry", the father says later with wet eyes and a trembling voice.

If you approach 'All of Us Strangers' with skepticism, the metaphysical element might seem a bit silly. But once you have surrendered to the inventive narrative grip that dissolves time, but retains its inherent deprivation, the experience is alluring, touching and heartbreaking - especially if you yourself can from time to time be gripped by the fear of losing your loved ones and be left to themselves.

The feelings are perhaps so clear because 50-year-old Haigh draws threads to his own life and his upbringing as a gay man in the 80s, with all that entails of fear of HIV infection and stigmatization. To substantiate the personal touch, the director has even shot the scenes with the protagonist's parents in his own childhood home, he explained in an interview with Time Magazine.

At first the meetings with the parents feel liberating, but during the course of the story they develop into an emotional prison. The magic of love is hard to escape, and when Adam also tries to drag Harry into his ghost world, it suddenly appears very disturbing.

Just like the film's beautiful synth score, reality, dream and nightmare flow together in a riveting current. And finally, Andrew Haigh puts the crown on the work with a matchless, equal parts intimate and galactic ending.

In short: Englishman Andrew Haigh has created a masterpiece in his career with a sorrowful and alluring ghost story that is based on the director's own life.'

[twopoppies]

Hi!

I’m new to the larryverse and am really finding bits and pieces fun (show recaps and fan projects), funny (art, commentary), comforting (the actual music!), and compelling (marketing, learning more about overt vs covert homophobia, media and industry manipulation, etc.).

I’ve been slowly catching up (i.e. reading stuff on various sm platforms) on fan opinion regarding who LT is addressing/singing about/to in FITF.

It’s interesting to me how so many folks think most, or a large portion, of his songs are about his fans and the relationship there. I recognize that there is a facet of that on the album and he does make loads of reference to that in his promo, but I am also finding it a little naive to believe he is singing that he loves only the fans, and the entirety of the album is dedicated to them, and them alone. They’ve found him, and he loves them for that. He catches their eye and sees they’re the same and he just wants to dance with them. It’s great lyricism because now that I’m writing this out I am seeing how it can true. Ha ha. Perhaps because I’m relatively new here I don’t understand his writing style, fan dynamics, or LT as a person, but he’s a person with a wide social network, family, friends, and a significant other. Why do people disregard that? Just like any other artist he paints with a wide brush on a large canvass.

I guess this is all to say is that I think his team and the marketing strategy to the fandom is really working. Good for him!

sorry for the long rant. I should take up journaling or something. Jesus. Ha ha.

have a love day!

Hi sweetheart. So glad you're finding your way in the fandom. With Walls, Louis was very vocal about the album being autobiographical and that many of the songs were about his "girlfriend" and it fit the narrative that was being spun that she'd come back to him at his lowest (after his mom died) and had saved him.

With FITH future, he's made an effort to say numerous times how this album is not as autobiographical and that he wasn't going to speak on the meanings of each song which gives fans more of an opportunity to interpret each song as they read them. I tend to find, though, that the people who are dead set in believing the songs are about the fans, often are people who don't buy the idea that Harry and Louis are still together (or who just outright hate Harry). But also, the idea that Louis is super focused on his fans is one that he/his team are really pushing. Yeah, the songs could definitely be read as being about fans (as you've shown above), and some might be. But, to me, it seems reductive to assume anything that reads as a love song is automatically about the fans. I'd say they're more layered and meant to appeal to people in different ways. He's got a lot going on in his life that he can draw inspiration from. His relationship with fans, for sure. But, IMO, his relationship with Harry is going to be woven into those songs, too.

[sammy-hammy]

𝔸𝕤 𝕀𝕥 𝕎𝕒𝕤 ☏ 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬

𝖻𝗈𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾

How did I even get here?

I awkwardly stood in the middle of Sam’s room. My mother had convinced me to hangout with Sam while she talked to his mom. How? She said she would buy me a roblox gift card if I hung out with him.

Don’t judge. I need those robux.

Instead of dwelling on it, I looked around Sam’s room. It looked a lot different than the last time I saw it. It was 5 years ago but still- ya know, different. The walls used to be covered with drawings but those were replaced with album covers. The childish furniture was changed for more mature furniture.

Bruh why am I describing a room? He’s older now of course it’s going to be different.

“I brought the soda!” Sam walked back in holding a can of Dr. Pepper and a can of Coke. “You can sit on my bed if you want.”

“Uh, thanks.” I sat down and he sat next to me.

Yooo kinda close my guy…

He handed me the Dr. Pepper while he scrunched his nose.

Cute. WAIT NO-

“I don’t understand how you like that stuff.” he said while opening his can of soda. I pretended to be offended. “How dare you? No matter how many times I explain this you always go back to your horrid ideals.” I smiled while opening my can of soda.

“Well I don’t like the taste of medicine so-“ Sam said dead serious. We made eye contact and burst into laughter. We’ve had this ‘argument’ so many times when we were younger.

He’d always back away and say it was nasty. I would end up chasing him around threatening him with the soda. Good times.

When we stopped laughing there was an awkward pause. We bother sipped our sodas and avoided eye contact. Suddenly, Sam cleared his throat. “So… how was New York?” he asked.

I thought for a second then shrugged, “It was ok I guess. Nothing interesting happened. The only major thing is I finally learned how to play the drums.” His face brightened up with that last part.

“We can finally start a band together like we said we would! I have some friends that play bass and piano that could join!” He looked like he had stars in his eyes.

I smiled, his passion has always been music. “I’d love to meet them! Do they go to Stoneybrook High?” I asked.

He nodded, “Yeah, Emmet and Oliver! They’re in the same grade as us. Emmet plays base and Oliver plays piano. They’re pretty good if you ask me.” Sam smiled as he talked about his friends. “I can introduce you to them once you get settled in.”

“Yeah that’d be nice” I smiled at him. We kinda stared at each other for a bit. I looked away before he could notice that I was getting flustered.

“Um… so how have you been?” I asked. “I’ve been good! I’m still learning guitar, but we can still start that band!” I smiled as he talked about his life so far.

“Oh! Also, David Micheal and Kristy are much older now. I wish you were here to see them grow up” he added. It was quiet as we drank our sodas.

We just stared at the ground for a bit. I thought about what I said when I left and felt a knot of guilt buildup in my throat.

Why did I saw those things? Why is he talking to me like I did nothing wrong? He should hate me.

“I’m sorry for what I said when I left..” I picked at my nails with my free hand as he glanced at me.

After a few seconds of silence he grabbed my hand. “Don’t pick your nails, you’ll bleed.”

What..?

“Why are you being so nice to me?” I looked up from the ground and looked at him in confusion. He sighed. “What you said really hurt me,” I tried picking at my nails but he stopped me again. “But I know you didn’t mean it. You were just grieving, I know that now.”

Tears filled my eyes. He squeezed my hand.. “I forgive you Y/n. I want us to be as close as we used to be, if you’re ok with that.” He smiled with closed eyes.

I hugged him, trying to hide my tears. Sam hugged me back. He rubbed my back as he leaned his head on my shoulder. “Thank you for being my friend.” I murmured to Sam.

He hugged me a little tighter before pulling away and looking me in the eyes. “You don’t have to thank me for that. I’d choose to be with you any lifetime.”

I felt my face get hotter.

That sounded romantic-

A few seconds passed before Sam’s face turned red as he also realized what he said.

“Y/n! Time to go!” my mom called from the bottom of the stairs. Sam cleared cleared his throat and took his hands from my shoulders, “I can take your trash if you’re done.” He gestured to my soda.

“Um, yeah thanks! I’ll… see you later?” I said (asked?) as I handed him my trash. “Yep, I’ll walk you to the door!” He replied after throwing the empty cans away in his trash bin.

We walked out of his room and down the stairs. My mom smiled at Sam and told me to put on my shoes. We said our goodbyes and left.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝖽𝗈𝗀 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝗀𝗅- 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌, 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒𝖾𝖽! 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗌𝗄 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌!

𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍

[birthdaysentiment]

Do you picture robbe & sander as tattoo guys ? Like do you think they'd get tattoos or like them ?

uhhh anon, i love this question! the short and simple answer is yes! but I've never been a person that gives short and simple answers (oh well... sometimes i do, but you know what I mean hehe)

sander definitely has that tattoo vibe, and in another universe i'm sure he has some himself. i imagine sander getting his first one after he got diagnosed, because he wanted to do that for himself, maybe as a reminder that he has the control, and that his mind isn't (... if that make sense). i'm hundred percent sure it's a bowie related tattoo as well, that he gets as his first one. i think the lightning bolt came later, so maybe his first one was a quote from bowie or some lyrics that he connected with. after that first tattoo sander fell in love with them! i don't see him as someone having as many as... harry styles, but he has a lot, mostly small ones that all symbolize something for him, that connects him to something and to someone. maybe he's working on a bigger piece for him to get tattooed one day... he's just waiting for the right moment to do so

robbe doesn't give me as strong a tattoo vibe as sander does, but in another universe i'm confident robbe has a tattoo as well. idk why but i don't necessarily see robbe as the biggest tattoo lover, maybe because he never saw himself as the type to get tattoos (even though there aren't specific types of people who gets tattoos, but yeah you know lol), so i don't imagine tattoos as being something robbe considered or thought about much before meeting sander. when robbe fell in love with sander and seeing the art on his body, he got a better understanding for it. tattoos are art that people let their bodies carry, because it meant enough for them to get it permanent on their skin (... okay a bit too philosophical lol sorry). anyway, when he saw and understood the meanings of tattoos for sander, it inspired robbe to get one himself... and he of course wanted sander to draw it. i imagine robbe getting something that has the same meaning as his necklace, something that reminds him of something or someone important in his life, something that can symbolize the same love and comfort. maybe it's something specific or something more abstract, that only he and sander knows the meaning behind... and i kinda really like that idea

so it wouldn't surprise me if robbe and sander got matching ones, not the same ones, but tattoos that matched in a way they match. maybe its a figure, that transforms into something else when joined, or maybe they have a part of a quote or a lyric each, that gets completed when joined too. i imagine robbe and sander tracing each others tattoos, placing small kisses on them whenever they feel like it. i imagine their matching tattoos, and their own as well, as being something intimate for them, something they share together, that brings them even closer. and yeah... i'm hundred percent sure sander got a tattoo a place he knows robbe likes... maybe at his collarbone, above the line of his underwear or yeah something like that hehe. so i definitely picture robbe and sander as tattoo guys (with different vibes), and i'm sure they have tattoos and that they like them... especially on each other hehe <333

[narukoibito]

Either The Other Boy-Who-Lived or Pandora Lily. They both sound interesting :-)

Thank you for the ask, Anon! I'll do you one better and share both (Pandora Lily is under the cut)! ❤️

The Other Boy-Who-Lived

I have another fic, Someone Else's Life, that is the partner fic to this one. In Someone Else's Life, canon!Harry gets thrown into an alternate dimension where Neville was the BWL, with Ginny and Luna as his trio. In this alt dimension, he and Ginny aren't together, and he not only has to figure out how to get back to his dimension, but grapples with a crisis about whether Ginny loves him or the BWL.

In The Other Boy-Who-Lived, non-BWL!Harry got thrown into canon world. He's a Quidditch player who has had a crush on Ginny since the Yule Ball (she went with Neville in that world too), and he's completely amazed that canon!Ginny is with him. Also he and Ginny have to deal with the mystery Dark Wizard activity that canon!Harry left in his wake.

Here's a snippet of a conversation between non-BWL!Harry with canon!Ginny:

“What’s your Harry like?”

“Stupidly noble,” Ginny said immediately, her smile so painfully affectionate that Harry couldn’t look away if he wanted to. “Always needing to do the right thing.” She wrinkled her nose. “Has a tendency to be overprotective.

“If anything, I’m the one who needs protecting,” Harry said, stupidly jealous of this other version of himself. “He sounds like a bit of a git.”

She laughed, and he felt ridiculously chuffed. “And you’re not?”

“Point taken. But if he’s anything like you’ve described, he will find a way back to you.”

“And your Ginny will find you.”

“Er – about that.” Harry felt heat crawl up his cheeks. How strange it was to tell Ginny about their non-existent romantic relationship when she and her Harry clearly… “We aren’t... she doesn’t—”

She arches an eyebrow, amused. “If she’s anything like me, that’s not true.”

“Well you and Neville are more...” Harry makes a halfhearted hand motion, feeling a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Me and Neville?” Her eyebrows shot up high. 

“Er, that’s what everyone thinks.” He shrugged, that old sadness stirring inside him. “You both are close. Each other’s best friends. Always together…”

I also once shared another snippet that is a later part of the same conversation.

Pandora Lily

ASKJFKG I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT THIS IDEA!

So. Man. I don't remember what inspired me (I think someone asking me about Ginny being a single parent and then meeting Harry afterwards), but I have 1k+ words written about a Harry-never-went-to-Hogwarts story, where Ginny and Luna having a daughter (Pandora Lily Lovegood-Weasley), but they've recently separated. Still a famous Quidditch player, she's visiting Hogwarts to give a flying lesson (but with really the reason to see her daughter), and runs into Professor Potter.

Here's a snippet! (Decided not to indent because tumblr made it so hard for longer text.)

She was distracted by a flash of red hair as she rounded the corner, she was completely blindsided when she ran straight into something. Parchments seemed to burst into the air, blinding her temporarily. Hands shot out and wrapped around her waist (Merlin when was the last time someone touched her?), drawing her close to a warm body.

“Are you all right?”

When she opened her eyes, she found herself staring at the most startling green eyes she had ever seen.

“Fine,” she said, hating that she sounded breathy.

He released her and took a respectful step back. Those green eyes widen as he started to tilt backward, his foot sliding on a parchment. Without thinking, Ginny lurched forward to grab his arm and gave a strong tug, which propelled him forward, pressing her against a wall.

She felt color flood her face as she could hear his breath next to her ear.

“Sorry,” he said, immediately lurched back. For the first time, she was able to get a good look at the stranger who had first saved her and then she had saved from some ridiculous tumble. He was a good head taller than her, with round spectacles to hide his brilliant eyes. He raked a hand through his disheveled black hair, a sheepish and shy grin on his reddened face.

“No, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” Ginny apologized.

“Ah shite,” he surprised her by swearing (not very Professorly because surely that’s what he must be, though he was clearly on the younger side) as he seemed to realize all the parchment—probably student essays—littered on the floor, students whispering as they passed them. He bent down to grab them, and she knelt down to help, trying not to think too hard about the way her heart seemed to be beating at a slightly increased rate.

Ginny reached out for the last parchment at the same time as he did, his fingers brushing against hers (were those flying calluses?). They both jerked back, looking at each other, only to dissolve into laughter.

“Sorry about making you lose all your essays,” she said, picking up the last one as they both rose to their feet. She held out the ones she had gathered.

“Thank you,” he said, giving her a crooked smile that made him look younger than he probably was. Then, it was as if realization struck them at the same time.

“You’re–” they both started.

“MUM!” a loud voice pierced the air.

Ginny immediately dragged her eyes away from Harry Potter (the Harry Potter!) to turn toward the voice. She opened her arms just in time for a small being to jump into her arms.

“Lily!” she cried out, real joy rushing through her for the first time in a long time. She held her daughter tight, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. She leaned down to press a kiss against her forehead.

She wasn’t sure if she imagined the sharp intake beside her, but her focus was forced back to her wiggling daughter.

“Mum,” her daughter complained, “no one calls me that but you.”

“Okay, Miss Pandora Lily Lovegood-Weasley,” Ginny chuckled, rolling her eyes. She stopped when she realized Harry Potter was looking at her with the strangest expression. Crap, she had just rolled her eyes at Harry Potter, as if he was — it was an icy knife pressed against her heart. Nope, nope, not going there.

*

Man, now I want to write this story, hahaha.

Feel free to send an ask for the WIP game! 

[illatreal]

Heartstopper, an essay by me that probably no-one will ever read. (Spoiler alert, obviously, if you haven’t read or watched the series)

(PART 8) 

So it’s been a really long, shit week at work and I never got around to part 8. Frankly, I don’t think I have the energy to write much - I just want to curl up in a ball and watch ‘Heartstopper’ over and over until I feel human again. So here are just some thoughts jotted down without any real structure or expansion

Teachers, Parents, Siblings

Mr Ajayi (Fisayo Akinade) - everyone wishes they had a teacher like this. Always there with an open door and a friendly ear. Willing to give out advice  even when it’s not what you want hear. Doesn’t ever push Charlie to tell him more but just creates a really open, supportive environment so that when Charlie is ready he knows that Mr Ajayi will be there for him. Wears the pride flag on his uniform so any student knows that they have his support

Coach Singh (Chetna Pandya) - strict but caring. Looking forward to hopefully being able to see the scene between Nick and her if we get a second season where she talks about meeting her partner through rugby and offering support if anyone gives him shit about his relationship with Charlie

Nick’s Mum, Sarah Nelson (Olivia Colman) - ICONIC. There is great chemistry between Olivia and Kit in the sweet scenes between Nick and his mum throughout. Such tender motherly concern and affection. The kind of supportive parent any kid wants and such a beautiful reaction to Nick coming out:  “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you couldn’t tell me that!” *hugs*    “You don’t have to say you like girls if you don’t”   “Oh, I love you!” *hugs*. Love that Joe Locke has on his instagram bio that Olivia Colman is his mother in law - I mean, the dream right?

Charlie’s Dad, Julio Spring (Joseph Balderrama) - protective, sweet, there for his son. Worried about Charlie because he knows how hard things were for him at school last year and just wants his son to know that he is supported

Tao’s Mum, Yan Xu (Momo Yeung) - such a sweetie. I definitely want a cup of tea, thanks Mrs Xu. Just adores Elle and is the biggest shipper of Tao and Elle together (Keep the door open *wink*)

Charlie’s Sister, Tori Spring (Jenny Walser) - great energy and, for lack of a better word, vibe. Always a fan of deadpan. Sibling teasing but with genuine affection, love and care thrown in. Tori knows what’s up: “I don’t think he’s straight”  *Charlie and Nick get together*  “Called it”.  There for Charlie at his lowest point:  “And I just feel like maybe I do just ruin people’s lives, and it would be better if I didn’t exist” “You’re not ruining my life!” *sister hug* - such a beautiful, poignant scene and so beautifully acted by Joe and Jenny.

Nellie (Echo) - what a little sweetheart. Emotional support dog. I’m sure Echo got all the love and attention. Joe is totally jealous that Echo loves Kit more. The best doggo who deserves all the pats

Miscellaneous

Supportive friends and the concept of found family - just so important to see represented for young people. Find those who lift you up and make you shine with their love.

Rainbow motif -  some of my favourite examples include: Nick and Charlie’s first meeting (camera catching the light), Tara and Darcy’s kiss at Harry’s party (lights from DJ + confetti), Tao and Elle’s sports day moment (camera catching the light), Nick and Charlie’s beach date (rainbow behind the train station), Alice Oseman drawing Nick and Charlie on the train (rainbow on her back pack)

Graphic novel elements - used to provide insight into the characters emotions/feelings throughout e.g. hearts (yes Elle, you do love Tao); butterflies (yes Tao, you do love Elle), flowers, leaves, sparks (just hold his hand, you know you want to); framing (pink for happy fantasies and black for darker imaginings). Love that even though the storyline is stretched out and rearranged a little bit (to add drama and to add a bit more realism to Nick’s journey of self discovery) there are still so many scenes that are practically shot for shot from the web comic.

Music choices - what an incredible soundtrack. The music really suits the style of the film and always helps to create the right atmosphere instead of detracting/distraction from the fabulous actors. The whole cast seems especially supportive of Baby Queen who wrote ‘Colours of You’ specifically for ‘Heart Stopper’ and who’s other music is featured throughout.

The realisation that I have the haircut of a teenage boy and I’m not even mad about it. Not a rugby lad although I do enjoy an oversized sweatshirt from time to time.

This was still really long. Sorry

Everyone deserves happiness and our differences should be celebrated!!!!!! <3

P.S. If Stephen Fry is the principal of the all boys school, does that make Sandi Toksvig the principal of the all girls school?

[cupofsquirrelfan]

I posted 12,615 times in 2022

34 posts created (0%)

12,581 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@sustancy

@perrfectly

@lehooes

@girls-books-coffee

I tagged 421 of my posts in 2022

#oh my god - 9 posts

#oh yup - 5 posts

#i love them - 5 posts

#harry potter - 5 posts

#drarry - 5 posts

#draco malfoy - 5 posts

#james potter - 5 posts

#harry james potter - 4 posts

#🥺 - 4 posts

#yesssss - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 134 characters

#also i’m tagging lou because the ordeal of being known is the reason that this song was in my top 5 songs on spotify wrapped last year

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

2. if someone were to catch Hanahaki disease for you, what flowers would they cough up? 

4. tell us about your ideal battle outfit.

5. what would you be a god/goddess of and what would people sacrifice to you?

6. name five iconic quotes that make you feel things.

Thank you for sending this!!! ❤️❤️

2. Daisies hand down. I love daisies, I think they are absolutely lovely!

4. Something moveable and flexible and easy to move in. Probably leggings and then some armor tbh lol

5. Oooh I would be a goddess of sunshine I think. Everyone tells me I always remind them of sunshine (which is the best compliment ever). Sacrifices could include anything they think I’m worthy of!

6. “The purpose of life is to live it,” (I want to get this one tattoo’d)

“You are enough just as you are”

“The influence of a great teacher is never erased”

“Progress over perfection”

“Happiness can be found in the darkest of times if one remembers to turn on the light.”

6 notes - Posted February 8, 2022

#4

What Family is Supposed to Feel Like

@cruelsummer-ficfest is a Harry Potter fic fest running through August that gives users Taylor Swift songs as prompts for the pairing of the user's choosing. I received "Never Grow Up" as a prompt for Drarry and wrote a little something. Hope you enjoy!

Title: What Family is Supposed to Feel Like Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Tags: Kid Fic, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Family, Parenthood, Established Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Married Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Insecurity, Insecure Draco Malfoy, Raising Teddy Lupin, Cute, Cute Teddy Lupin Rating: G Length: 3204 words Read it on AO3!

8 notes - Posted June 18, 2022

#3

Was just relistening to “We don’t talk about Bruno” and at the end of the song when everyone is circling mirabel as justice puts the prophecy back together, Isabel is singing “I’m fine! I’m fine! I’m fineeeee!”

GOD the attention to detail.

I love this because just seconds before she told mirabel that she didn’t want a peep out of her, and yet this shows that she doesn’t actually want to get married to Mariano and that she’s pretending to be fine

Also she’s a lesbian, sorry I don’t make the rules

15 notes - Posted January 4, 2022

#2

What if we were two boys and we played Mario kart and I told you that youre literally good at everything and then it started snowing outside and we go outside for a snowball fight with my really cute dog but im straight the entire time

18 notes - Posted April 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Made a little comic for the draw drarry badly challenge!

Panel 1: Harry is sticker under charmed mistletoe, sighing in defeat

Panel 2: Draco (off screen) says “Oi, Potter!”

Panel 3: Draco says “Why are you just standing there?” He doesn’t notice the mistletoe above Harry

Panel 4: Harry has a brilliant idea, he thinks “Perfect!”

Panel 5: Draco moved close enough to get caught in the charmed mistletoe as well. He asks Harry “Well?” Waiting for an answer to his question in panel 3

Panel 6: Harry gets closer, Draco is surprised

Panel 7: Harry kisses Draco, and the mistletoe vanished from above them

Panel 8: Harry starts walking away, and says “Thanks Malfoy! Catch you later!” While Draco stands there blushing, and saying “what…”

Panel 9: Draco blushing some more, thinking “holy shit…”

The end!

Tagging @julcheninred because you’re the creator of the challenge? Lol

21 notes - Posted June 22, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →