#this year because he was so bummed out about one sunday not being able to watch a saints game?? he is a niners fan

[messedupfan]

Chapter 14

Summary: It's the new year! There's a new development in Reader and Wanda's friendship. Jean and Anna have a very important question for reader. And Rachel witnesses something special.

A/n: Hellllloooooo!! I hope y'all are having a good day. Anyone watch Love is Blind? Every season upsets me more than the last. Anyway, comment, like, reblog, and enjoy!

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By the time you stopped staying with Wanda, the pillow wall ceased to exist. The pair of you were comfortable enough to share the space together on the bed and not overthink it. At least that's what you told each other to be able to hold one another at night. On the Sunday that Vision was meant to come for the boys, he called Wanda early in the morning. You were confused and exhausted when you accidentally picked up the phone. Your eyes went wide when you realized that you answered the wrong phone. You quickly put it on mute and woke Wanda up. She had to put on a fake voice to try and match yours. It was a hilarious attempt and she had to hit you to get you to laugh quietly. You just climbed out of bed to use the restroom. 

When you came back, Wanda had her face in her hands. You rejoined her on the bed and she leaned against you once you were settled in. “Vision extended his trip. He said he'll pick them up next Sunday. Which, I'm okay with having them longer. Of course. I love them and I mean, they love you and Rachel so I'm sure that a part of them will be okay with it. But,” she shut her eyes and shook her head as you put your arm around her. “They're going to be so disappointed. I don't even know what I can say? What do you say to a kid when their dad would rather spend the holidays with his new family?” 

You frowned as you rubbed her arm. Even though you knew the question was rhetorical, you felt inclined to answer because you've been that kid before. “My mom wouldn't tell me. She wouldn't even make an excuse on his behalf. She would just distract me with so much fun that I wouldn't even know how long it was until I finally did see my dad.” 

“Do you think that will work?” She rubbed her finger under her nose. You laughed lightly as you shook your head. 

“No, definitely not. Those kids are too smart for that. But, I think I do know something that might work,” you began to remind her of the night before when the boys were bummed by the idea that they had to go with their father because they wanted to stay and have fun with Rachel. “Just say that you asked Vision to let you have the boys a little bit longer and he agreed to let them stay until school starts again.” 

And she took your advice, while you were in the shower, she went to the boys room and told them exactly what you suggested. They were so happy and they hugged her so tight she almost felt guilty lying to them. One of the hardest lessons she learned about being a parent was accepting that she did in fact have to lie to her children on occasion. She already had to tell them that she asked to have Christmas with them and they accepted that because Rachel was still in the hospital at the time and they knew their dad wouldn't take them to visit her. They were confused when they spent time with their dad's side of the family and he wasn't there but they had so much fun with their uncle Tony that it didn't matter. He chased them around and wrestled with them when Vision would have yelled at them for running and he would have punished them for playing around so much. 

The twins loved their dad but they didn't miss him. 

Wanda hosted a New Year’s Eve party that included her mom, the Starks, her brother and his family, plus her friends. You got to invite your friends, Steve and his partner Peggy, the new guy on the job site Thor, and Darcy. A girl you met on a dating app one time and the two of you decided to be friends after. It was rare for her to be in town because she is a political science major who is interning for doctor Jane Foster while she worked on getting her own doctorate. The internship had her traveling a lot. She brought Jane with her because she claimed that the woman was a shut-in. But with the way she almost instantly gravitated to Thor, you couldn't tell. 

You also invited Bucky, another work friend, and he brought a girl he'd started seeing a couple of months prior. A woman named Natasha. When she entered the house she appeared to be on edge. So did Wanda at first, you figured you'd have to ask her about it when you got the chance. After a bit, they both relaxed. 

Of course, Anna and Jean were in attendance as well. They kept wanting to tease you about co-hosting but with so many of your co-workers and your boss being there, they let it slide. You acted as a guest and the kids knew not to mention the living arrangement. 

“So, who are you kissing at midnight?” Darcy asks as she joins you outside on the patio. You needed a break from the party and it was a nice night despite the low temperature. “Me or the hostess?” She smirks then takes a sip from her blue disposable cup. 

You shake your head as you drink from your cup. “I’m not kissing anyone at midnight.” The kids were all in the boys room and you’d hate for them to run down the stairs and confuse them because you and Wanda kissed. They were already confused because one of the nights, Billy came running in from having a nightmare and caught you in the bed. Up until then, you and Wanda were telling them that you were sleeping on the couch. You got away with telling Billy that you also had a nightmare and he seemed to have bought the excuse as he climbed in and created space between you and Wanda so that he could snuggle with his mom. 

“Oh come on, that’s no fun,” Darcy nudges you. “Tell you what, I’ll kiss Agatha so you’ll have to kiss Wanda.” 

You narrow your eyes, “You just want to kiss Agatha.” 

She made a face as she laughed, “No, I just want you to kiss Wanda.”

“How much money is involved,” you ask, knowing the people that are inside. Darcy tries to deny that there’s a bet circulating around the party and eventually gives up. You look inside of the house through the windows on the doors and watch Wanda laugh as something her sister-in-law says. Things weren’t complicated with her but you were constantly afraid that they would become complicated. “I’m not kissing her so that you and whoever else is involved can win a bet.”

“Pietro was the one who started it so,” she takes another drink, “do you really want your boss to lose.” The look she gives you confirms your unspoken question of which side of the bet Pietro was on. You couldn’t believe that he bet that you would kiss his sister at midnight. You shake your head again and finish what’s left in your cup. 

“I need another drink,” you say as you get up from your seat and walk inside. Instead of refilling your cup, you toss it into the trash. Your eyes keep finding Wanda in the small crowd as you move about the gathering talking with the different people there. You liked getting to know Tony Stark but her laugh kept grabbing your attention. One of the times she catches your gaze and mouths a hello with a cute smile. You smile back and mouth, “Hey.” 

As it got closer to the countdown to midnight, you walked upstairs to check on the kids. All of them had made themselves comfortable either on a bed or on the floor. Luna and Rachel have taken the beds, the twins and Agatha’s son are on the floor. The tv was left playing a movie and you carefully turn it off since all of them are asleep. You put blankets over the three boys and tuck the girls into the beds a bit more. You don’t realize that Wanda is watching you until you look up to leave the room. You smile as you stand in the room of sleeping children and strategically step around them to avoid waking them up. 

You leave the door open a crack once you step out into the hallway, “I can move the girls out of the room in a little bit.” You whisper as you step closer to her. “I’m buzzed right now and would hate to drop any of them,” the truth is, you’d hate to wake any of them right now. 

Wanda looks at you with admiration as she continues to smile, “It’s okay. I think they’ll be fine for the night. I um, I actually wanted to warn you about something.” 

“There’s a bet on whether or not we’ll kiss tonight?” Wanda nods to confirm that’s what she was going to talk to you about. “What do you think about it?” 

She shrugs, “I think if we do, it wouldn’t be a big deal. It’s not like we haven’t before.” You nod. 

“But?” You anticipate. 

“But, I don’t want my brother to win,” she says mischievously. “Have you heard what side he’s on?” She asks and this might be the only time in your life that you don’t regret lying when you shake your head. The two of you walk down the stairs as you hear everyone counting down. 

“How are the kiddos?” Pietro asks as the countdown continues. 

“They’re all knocked out,” you inform him. He nods and is pulled in closer by his wife as they get to ten. You look around to find Jane and Thor gazing at one another, nine. Tony and his fiance, Pepper are holding each other close, eight. Agatha and Darcy each have an arm around each other's necks as they both face the television, seven. Mrs. Maximoff is sitting on the sofa with a big grin as she counts down, six. Howard is next to her with his head tilted back as he snores loudly and his wife Maria is next to him counting with a martini glass in her hand, five. Carol is kissing Val each second that is announced, four. Natasha is sitting on Bucky’s lap while he sits on the recliner with her arm around his neck and his around her waist, three.  Jean and Anna pull each other closer as they prepare to end the count down, two. That leaves you standing close to Wanda, one. 

“Happy New Year!” Everyone cheers as the countdown on the television concludes and they each exchange a kiss with their partners. You keep your hands yourself as you give Wanda an innocent chaste kiss on the lips. It’s quick, you’re not sure if anyone caught it. She smiles as she moves closer to her mom and kisses her on the cheek as she wishes her a happy new year. 

“Awe boo!” Darcy says as she digs for cash out of her pockets. The others that bet on you and Wanda sharing a kiss toss their money in the decorative bowl at the center of the coffee table. You wink at Wanda as Pietro shakes his head and puts money in the bowl. Wanda’s eyes widen ever so slightly before she continues to play dumb about the bet. The both of you fake being upset and make it clear that whatever is between the two of you is purely platonic. 

From the top of the stairs, Rachel hobbles back to Tommy and Billy’s room to hide the fact that she saw the whole thing. 

When Sunday comes back around, you get up early to get packed. School starts again on Monday so that meant you and Rachel didn’t need to stay with Wanda anymore. It sucks because you wish that you could have an excuse to be here longer but seeing as none of the kids will be in the house in the upcoming week, there isn’t a reason for you to stay. 

You hug the boys and thank them for being so helpful with Rachel as you say goodbye. They each give you a tight hug before running off to get ready for their dad to pick them up. Wanda called him early to confirm that he will be here for them in the afternoon. He sounded annoyed and convinced her to drop them off at his house since he was recovering from his trip. 

Wanda pulls you into a warm embrace to say goodbye for the time being. You’ve had to resist kissing her the entire week. You wished that you hadn’t done it on New Year’s Eve. She didn’t make it easy either. Too many times the two of you ended up too close to each other. Wanda was getting frustrated that you weren’t getting the signals that she wanted something more from you. 

When the pair of you pull back from this hug, you and Wanda hold eye contact for a moment. Both of you are considering leaning towards each other. That is, until Tommy and Billy start shouting at each other. Wanda sighs and steps out of your arms. “I’ll text you later,” you say as you grab your bag to take to the car. Rachel and her bags are already in your truck. 

You help your daughter out of the truck when you arrive at her mom's house and you only take one of her bags inside since you need to keep the rest at your apartment. Jean and Anna give you weird looks when you're inside and you're curious as to why but you don't question it. “I'll see you guys next Sunday,” you say as you're about to leave. 

“Hold on,” Anna says as she grabs your arm to stop you. “Can you um…” her words seem to fail her. 

“Do you mind staying for tea,” Jean finishes for her. You look between the two of them and notice that something is up with them. You fear that they're about to tell you that their marriage is over so you nod and allow Jean to drag you over to the living room. “So, we wanted to thank you for giving us some extra time to ourselves.” 

“Okay,” you drag out as you eye her carefully. “What's going on?” 

Jean gives you a nervous smile, “Just wait for the tea. Okay?” You nod and sit quietly. There's an awkward tension looming in the atmosphere. You were worried about what they're going to tell you and they are nervous to ask you something very important to them. 

Anna comes in with a tray of three steaming mugs a few minutes later. “You haven't asked them yet, right?” Jean shakes her head as she waits for her wife to get settled. You accept your cup of tea with a close mouth smile and nod. 

“Okay,” Jean starts as she sets her mug down. “Anna and I were wondering if you'd consider making another baby,” you’re about to laugh considering you just went through a break up, “with me?” She concludes. You spit your tea out at the absurd question. “I should have waited for you to swallow,” Jean says as she gets up to grab a dish towel to clean up the mess but Anna pulls her back down. 

“Are you crazy?” You ask as you set the tea back onto the tray. “You tell me that you can barely afford Rachel and you want to add a newborn to your expenses?” You shout in a whisper. You don't want Rachel to get curious and walk in and get excited about having another sibling. 

“Listen, we talked about that. With the budgets the three of us have come up with-” 

“And the GoFundMe!” Anna chimes in. 

“Yes, and the GoFundMe that we set-up for the medical bills, I think we'll be able to get that covered. And it takes nine months to make the baby. Anna and I can get to a better place financially in nine months,” Jean explains. 

“Can you?” You nearly shout out loud. “Look, it's not just nine months of you growing a person. It's doctors appointments, it's prenatal vitamins, it's baby clothes and toys and furniture. We got rid of all that stuff a long time ago. It's not like you have hand-me-downs.” With your pointer finger, you tap the fingers on your other hand as you list the reasons. “Not to mention how expensive IVF can be.” 

Jean and Anna share a look, “We weren't thinking about doing this through IVF. It's safer and more cost efficient to go the more natural route.” Anna is the one to suggest this. 

You stick your neck out and slowly blink as you widen your eyes. You cannot believe what you're hearing. “You really just suggested that I fuck your wife?” 

“You don't have to be so crude about it,” Anna chides. “I plan on being present and it wouldn't be wrong for you to fornicate with my wife. It's purely for reproductive purposes.” You cringe at the medical terms she uses to describe the act she is asking of you. It makes you want to throw up. “I don't understand what is so difficult about it, you've done it with her before.” 

You slowly close your hands into fists, not because you intend to use them but because air was the only thing you could grasp without hurting yourself. “I was in love, we were in love. Rachel was created from love.” 

“And this baby would be too,” Jean argues. “We care deeply about each other, Y/n.” She tries to take one of your hands in hers but you recoil, disgusted by the touch you once found comforting. 

You shake your head, “That's not the same and you know it.” You take a few breaths to calm down before you get too worked up and as your mind clears from the shock, you are able to come up with a reasonable argument. “You two might be ready to have another kid, but I'm not ready. I can't take that on financially or even emotionally right now. Besides, there is so much that happens during their first few developing years that I wouldn't want to miss when passing them back and forth.” They share another look and you already know they've thought about a crazy solution to that. You're starting to think you should just leave. 

“Well, we were thinking that you don't have any parental rights to this one. So that we can have a kid that's ours full time. We really want a baby that we can raise together that's just ours and we chose you to help us with that.” You scowl at this, they're actually asking you to not be present in the life of a child that you're supposed to help bring into this world. You couldn't believe it. “If you think about it, we can't have kids on our own and I really want Rachel to have a sibling that comes from both of us. You've said it yourself, half siblings aren't the sa-” 

“Don’t even. I was a kid when I said that! I would never say that now. I love Kate,” you interrupt. “She is my sister.” 

“Okay, fine, whatever. You still felt that way at one point,” Jean snaps, annoyed by your lack of support. “You can go off and have as many kids as you want with whoever you want. We only have so much time to do this and we used to talk about having another kid.” Jean tries hard to convince you that this is a good idea but it only sounds more and more bizarre. 

“When we were together,” you remind her as if she was an idiot. At this point, you're starting to wonder. “Those plans disappeared the second we signed the divorce papers.” You look between the women that you have tried again and again to support and defend. When Jean introduced Anna to her parents, they weren't accepting of the relationship at all. It took you the better part of a year to get her parents to tolerate the relationship. They still held out hope that you and their daughter would reunite at some point. They knew a few couples that split up only to marry each other again a few years later. Then came the wedding last February, Jean's family didn't want to attend because they didn't want to believe it was happening. You made sure they came. 

Now here they are, asking more out of you. With what return? What do you get out of this other than a few traumatic nights and a child you won't be allowed to raise but know is part of you? Then you think about Rachel and how when she would play with her baby dolls, they weren't ever her children. They were her siblings. You've had many talks with her in the past about why she doesn't have any siblings and she has expressed how she doesn't want to be an only child. You put your face in your hands as you realize that she's already ten and she'll be eleven soon enough. You had thought your eight year age gap between you and Kate was pretty big, and when you thought about having kids you always saw yourself having kids with small age gaps. That was until you had Rachel at seventeen. 

“We're not expecting an answer now,” Jean finally says. “Just please, consider it before you say no.” 

You sigh as you can't believe that you're actually going to think this over. “Okay,” you rise and walk out of the house. You drive to the nearest liquor store, the one you met Wanda at and buy a couple of bottles of the vodka she had suggested. As soon as you got home, you drank until you passed out to forget about the asinine request. 

You overworked yourself all week, being the first one on site and the last one to leave. Someone needs to be focused on paying off those medical bills and not trying to rack up more of them. The work keeps you from thinking about what Jean and Anna asked. You couldn't believe that is a real idea they discussed and thought was okay to run by you. When you got home, you had a bottle of vodka with a side of instant noodles. 

On Friday, your coworkers, Bucky and Thor, ask that you join them on a night out and you accept. You invite Steve as well because Bucky took a liking to him but wasn't sure if he could invite the guy himself. You thought it was funny that he was being weird about it but you didn't catch how flustered he was when you informed him that Steve accepted the invite. Then Thor requested that you invite Darcy and her friend. He tried to play coy but you know that he really liked Jane. He was just the idiot that forgot to call her the next day. He claimed that he waited too long and now he needed your help. You didn't mind extending it, he was a decent guy from what you've gathered. 

A couple of hours later and  you're drunk enough to start spilling your guts. Starting with how much you miss Daisy before getting into the real problem. Jean and Anna's request. Shocking everyone at the booth. The guys all agree that you shouldn't do it but Darcy plays devil's advocate and says that she knows someone that could help at no cost at all because they owed her a favor. “It's not just the sex that's the problem, Darcy,” you try to explain. “I can't just pretend it's not my kid. If I were someone that didn't mind that kind of thing, sure, I'd do it. But I'm not that person, I would want involvement.” 

She puts her hand on your back and rubs soothing circles. It would be comforting if it wasn't her touch. You begin to yearn for Wanda’s touch again. You didn't realize how much you missed it. There is a loud group of people that are being disruptive and it puts you in a bad mood as you start to miss the Hub being your go to. You doubt Phil would let you step into that building ever again. 

“Anyone want more? I'll get the next round,” you stand up even though you barely can and Darcy takes notice as she quickly joins you. Buck and Steve have engrossed themselves in a separate conversation. Jane and Thor were practically eating each other's faces. She gave him the cold shoulder when she arrived but he was able to crash through her walls pretty quickly. 

While you wait at the bar for the drinks, someone falls against Darcy and she complains about her arm hurting. That triggers something protective in you and you grab the person to try and get them to apologize. They spit in your face and you shove them. Your friends are quick to escort you out of the bar before you get into something you'll regret. 

“Give me your phone,” Darcy says as she digs through your pockets. 

“Hey, that's my phone,” you try to grab it but you're really out of it. Bucky and Steve are both holding you up, they didn't realize that you had drank so much. They exchanged worried glances as they held onto you. Thor and Jane were busy trying to calm the person you pushed. 

Wanda’s week was quite uneventful. She worked quietly on the project she was assigned. With the spare time she has in her day, she worked on her passion project. The dream house she one day hoped to build on a land she's trying to buy now. She doesn't want to continue to be limited by this house. The house that's so full of nightmares. There were good memories here, like the boys learning how to crawl and eventually walk, but it wasn't enough to erase the negative energy that has embedded itself within the walls like black mold. 

She was planning on inviting her girls over on Friday but she really only wanted to be hanging out with you. Because of that feeling, she invited someone to sleep with instead. She needed to get you out of her head. You were starting to consume her every thought. Even when she worked on the plans for her dream house. Would Y/n like this much natural light if I add this wall of windows? Wouldn't they like a woodworking space, like my father had? Maybe Rachel needs a room… she dropped her pencil and scrapped the paper. She didn't need to be thinking about that. 

Wanda was kicking the girl, Jessica, that she had over when her phone started ringing. Her heart jumped at the goofy picture of you with the caller ID that you had set, covering her screen. “Hey you,” she greets as she shuts the door. “What's up?” 

“Wanda, keep it in your pants.” Wanda moves the phone from her face as she doesn't recognize the voice. It was still your contact information. “This is Darcy. We met last week,” she says with an urgency. This gets Wanda’s heart to race with worry. 

“What's wrong with Y/n? Why are you calling me from their phone?” She asks as she searches for her keys. Ready to be driving to the hospital. 

“They're fine for the most part. I think.” She goes quiet for a second. “Look, they're really wasted and I was wondering if you could pick them up?” Darcy asks nervously. “No stop! Hey! Y/n, don't do that! Steve, Bucky, get them!” Darcy shouts away from the phone but Wanda can hear everything she says. Wanda shakes her head. So far she hadn't known you to be the drunk type. She'd seen you have a few drinks and get a buzz but she hasn't seen you in such a state that your friends have had to parent you. 

Wanda sighs, “Text me the location. I'll be there as soon as I can.” 

“Okay, thank you,” Darcy sounds distracted. “Damnit, Y/n, why do you have a flask! Stop drinking!” Is the last thing Wanda hears before the call drops. She sits in her car for a few minutes before she receives the text of the location. It was a bar close to her house and she was there in no time at all. She doesn't even have to get out of the car to help you inside because Steve and Bucky shove you into the front seat. 

“Wanda!” You say happily as you realize whose car you've been dumped into. Your eyes are closed but you recognize the scent you had been wrapped up in for two weeks. “Where's Wanda? I want to say hi,” you mutter as you start to get sleepy. 

“Here's their phone,” Darcy says as she stands at Wanda's side of the car. “Don't let them call or text anyone. They're going through something with the ex and you have to make sure that they don't say something they'll regret.” 

Wanda is confused, “What happened between Y/n and Daisy?” 

“Oh no, honey,” Darcy smiles, “Not that ex. This is baby momma drama. You'll have to ask Y/n about that one in the morning. It's not my place to go into the details.” 

Wanda nods in acknowledgement. “Thank you for calling me. Does anyone else need a ride, I'd be happy to -” 

“Nope, we're good. Just focus on Y/n. Maybe try to get some water in them.” Darcy taps the car. “Good luck,” she waves as she rejoins the group on the sidewalk. Wanda drives you back to her house and helps get you inside. She didn't realize how heavy you could be when you're not holding your weight yourself. But she manages. 

“I’m sorry I drank too much, Wanda,” you mutter as you lean against her on the sofa. She was trying to get you to drink some water before she attempted to move you up the stairs. 

“That's okay, just drink this now,” she says as she puts the plastic cup against your lips. You take a sip and nearly spit it out as you show your disgust. 

“Poison,” you exclaim. “Gah, what is that? It's awful,” you say as you lean away from it. 

“It's water,” she leans closer to you. “Drink it!” She demands. 

You make a face and take the cup and chug the whole thing. “I think my body is rejecting it. I need to chase it down with something. Do you have any vodka?” You complain and Wanda shakes her head. 

“What did Jean do to you?” Wanda asks herself and you laugh maniacally when you catch her name. 

“She wants my baby,” you answer. And Wanda is concerned that there is going to be some sort of custody battle. She can't think of why there would be. Unless Jean has a better job opportunity somewhere else. 

“She can't take Rachel from you,” Wanda says as she gets up to refill the cup. 

“Not that baby!” You shout. “My other baby. Er. A new one. She wants a new one and she doesn't want me to have it.” Wanda relaxes a bit, still confused but at least it's not something that will necessarily disrupt Rachel’s life. She walks over and claims the cup of water is vodka. You drink it as if it was the first drink you’d ever had in your life. “That’s the good stuff right there, what’s that brand?” 

She is standing in front of you as she waits for you to finish the beverage. “I’ll tell you in the morning so that you don’t forget.” When you’re don’t she reaches for the cup and instead of handing it over, you grab her by the wrist and pull her to land on top of you. She tries to push herself up but you catch her lips in a sloppy kiss. “What are you doing?” She whispers as she pulls away. 

“Something I should have done a long time ago,” you reply. 

She shakes her head, “You’re drunk.” 

“So?” You ask as you try to kiss her again. This time she is able to slip out of your grasp. 

“So, this isn’t happening,” Wanda doesn’t go into how she’d be taking advantage of you since you’re so wasted and she hasn’t had a drop of alcohol all week. She doesn’t remind you of why you rejected her before or mention that she refuses to be a rebound for you. “Let's get you to bed,” she says as she lifts you up by your arm. You shake your head, disappointed by the rejection but comply. 

You're a little wobbly as you walk up the stairs. Wanda is closely behind you to ensure your safe ascent. You stop in front of her open bedroom door. Uncertain if she wants you to stay with her. But you decide that it's not her decision to make. So you move to the guest room. Wanda doesn't argue as she collects a bottle of painkillers and fills the cup again. She leaves the items on the nightstand beside you. You fell asleep the second your head hit the pillow. You snored softly and Wanda was surprised because you never snored during the time you stayed with her.

“I'll see you in the morning,” she says while she flips the light switch off and shuts the bedroom door. Wanda grabs the pillow that smells like you out of her closet and sets it on her bed before she gets in her pajamas. She crawls into bed and clutches the pillow to her chest as she inhales your scent in order to fall asleep.

Chapter 15

Taglist: @princessprudy @sayah13 @agaymilflover @awkwardmandalorian @bentleywolf29 @thatshyboy1998 @artisannat @thisischaismagic @wqndanat @madamevirgo @likefirenrain @tearsofglitter @feltlikethat @the-writer-arcane @natashasilverfox @karsonromanoff @aloneodi @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @jovialsublimecomputer @natasha-maximoff @iliketozoneout @doudouneverte @druggedduck @notbornbutforged @when-wolves-howl @lifespectator @justyourwritter69 @wandaromamoff69 @awesomelygayasf @nekoannie-chan @diaryoflife @wuwu96 @wandanats-goodgirl @sincerely-indi @blueredg52 @sisiofthemultifandom @fuzzyuniversityeclipsefriend @arcturusseer @scarlettwidow34 @chasethemoon @raven-ss @canyonyodeler @sokovianbaby @alexawynters @bittysworld @hopeless-romantic17177 @spongebobtentacles

[forabeatofadrum]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers (except me because obvs I have done it). Spread the self-love ❤

Hi Dre!

I'm switching it up, cause I think my fave fics that I've written are known to be my favourite (recap: yada yada my big five All the pretty things that we could be, Myosotis series, Mendacious, I’d cry a river just for you, Paradiso) but YOU KNOW WHAT DRE, I have written more stuff that makes me go "aye, that actually slapped" so self-love time to fics that don't make that list!

In no order, sorted by fandom:

Just Some Guy (Carry On, Snowbaz, sorta (and Matt/Leslie??))

THE MAN, THE MYTH, THE LEGEND HIMSELF. No, I'm not talking about Simon "Chosen One" Snow, but about our boi Matty Chris D. He is just some guy. It's Simon and Baz's canon 7.25 years at Watford from a perspective of an OC who couldn't care less about them, which led to some humourous situations. Dre, you actually motivated me to finish this story by giving me ideas for certain situations. I think this is one of the funniest ideas I've ever had and I'm glad with how it ended up.

Time After Time (Carry On, Snowbaz)

Time to go to the other MCD: Major Character Death. This idea had been in the back of my mind ever since Wayward Son got released and we didn't know whether Bazzy was immortal, so I played with it. Simon dies in the White Chapel and is Capital D Dead. No magic can bring him back kind of dead. He and Baz meet every 20 years when the Veil lifts. I think this fic was really challenging, because I had no idea how to end it, but I am glad that it kind of got 2 endings and it works. fatalfangirl on AO3 called this "upsettingly romantic" and I am inclined to agree. There's just this ache of looming heartbreak over the entire fic.

make a fire out of this flame (Carry On, Snowbaz)

Step aside MCD (Matt Christopher Davis), because I think this is the funniest thing I've written. It's a non-magickal textfic. I am a sucker for textfics/epistolary fics so it's wack I've never tried one myself. It's, uh, filled with Little Numbers references because I can. I just loved writing the gang (Penny, Shep, Niall, Dev) being batshit insane at times and I loved adding ridiculous memes and lines to this. Even coming up with groupchat names was a hoot. AND since it's a textfic, I didn't have to worry about typos! Formatting was hell, though, but it was so worth it. Also, Simon/Fish OTP.

All shall know the wonder (Check, Please!; Zimbits)

This is actually, probably, my favourite Zimbits fic that I've written. It's the oldest on this list. I published it in 2020, but I think I started on it in 2019. I had a huge interest in Deaf culture in the late 2010s (I hate writing it like that) and that led to this fic. Jack is Deaf, so never joined the SMH. He still likes to play, though, and he and Bitty, who is on the team, meet at Faber at 4am on a Sunday. I loved writing this fic and I am glad that other people who know more about Deaf culture and ASL (yes, Jack is Canadian, but it's explained why he also uses ASL) also liked it. Oh, and I am a bitch for Camilla Collins, so I am glad I was able to give her a role in this fic. Camilla/Shruti is probably my Check, Please! crack ship.

Ljubim te (Glee, Klaine)

I genuinely love this fic, which is why I am so bummed about the fact that the sequel isn't going as swimmingly. Kurt and Blaine meet in Ljubljana, since I used to live there for 6 months, so it's a great way for me to reminisce over my time there. The story is mostly about comphet and the idea of exploring comphet actually came from Simon/Agatha. In this fic, Blaine and Quinn totally believe they're straight and into each other, ignoring the signs that *narrator voice* they are, in fact, not straight. I loved writing Blaine/Quinn (AS FRIENDS!).

Thanks!

[angria]

Idk what this week was to be honest...

Huge positive....I got all the class times I wanted, both are on Sunday evenings. So I don't have to worry about my Monday sessions. Definitely a weight of stress has been lifted. Kind of bummed that I can't take electives until my third year because this program is so structured (they literally plan every semester already). They give you options here and there, but it's not as flexible as my Theology program. Maybe because getting your state licensure has stricter requirements? Still should be interesting.

Saw Dr W yesterday and she was so excited about me getting into the social work program.

Starting to wear my hair in a low bun again and I don't think it's negatively affecting my hair? I used to wear a bun every day for decades until my hair started falling out. So this is the first time in over a year that I can wear a bun without a lot of hair falling out. My self-esteem has taken a hit because I need to wear it in a stupid ponytail (which I hate for triggering reasons), so being able to wear my hair up is huge.

Got to work from home on Tuesday because of the snow storm. Which turned out to be a bust in my area, but hey, I'll take a work from home day regardless.

G brought his dog in on Wednesday and I was able to take a lot of cute pictures. He stays in my office a lot now. Mainly because he knows he will get pets 😂

Got these new white tank tops to replace my really old, stretched-out, discolored ones and love how they fit, even more than my old ones.

[argylemnwrites]

Sunday Morning

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment universe, about seven years after Why Are We Still Waiting?)

Word Count: ~1750

Rating: PG-13 (language)

Summary: “I’ve had this dream of mine since I was like 21… about Sunday morning. Waking up Sunday mornings early, my wife is there. She’s asleep. And then you can hear these little feet coming up the stairs… She’s like, ‘Daddy, I’m hungry.’”

“‘Okay, alright.’ I go down to the kitchen; I take her. And you know she wants the one thing Momma says you can’t have. She wants cookies for breakfast… I’m trying to be... “Daddy’s girl,” you know, all that type of stuff. So I sneak her a little cookie and we go play, and that’s it. We chill, and then eventually Momma wakes up, she comes down, and she plays with us.

“And, you know, for me, it’s just quality time. It’s just quality time with family. I don’t need anything more than that. I don’t want anything more than that in life. When I see you... I see Sunday morning.” ~ Riley Christian

Author’s Note: Breaking my hiatus just a little bit early. This is definitely an unplanned one shot, set long after WAWSW?. I was getting caught up on some TV now that my exam is (thankfully) behind me, and I watched the Bachelor in Paradise finale, because I clearly have no taste. The quote above came from one of the contestants, Riley, as he told Maurissa, the woman he proposed to later that episode, how he felt about her. It was one of the most touching moments I’ve ever seen on a reality dating show and it actually made me feel genuine emotion - at least enough to get the creative juice flowing. So congrats to Maurissa and Riley, a couple I think has an actual shot at lasting in the real world! And don’t mind me as I use this reality TV moment as fanfic inspiration, hahaha!

The sun was just peeking between the slats of the blinds as Drake blinked, slowly transitioning from asleep to awake. He rolled over, checking the time on his phone that was charging on the nightstand. 6:14. Well, Riley wouldn’t be up for a while. He let out a sigh, rolling to his other side and taking her in, passed out on her stomach. Her hair was getting longer, back like it was before Jackie was born, and it fanned out over the pillow, a sea of black, her face barely visible. He’d never understood how she could breathe through that thick mass, but she’d always claimed that it was less bothersome than him trying to keep it off her face, so he just let it be.

He knew he probably wasn’t going to fall back asleep, but there was something just so damn nice about being able to take a lazy morning, lounging in bed with his wife. Sundays were just like that. Riley sometimes had to work either Friday or Saturday night, but that was rare on Sundays. Sundays were usually just the three of them, bumming around. Sometimes, they’d head to Prospect Park, or they’d go out for lunch, but other times they literally didn’t leave their unit. It was always relaxing and just enjoyable.

Drake shifted slightly, moving to grab his book off his nightstand when he heard a floorboard creaking through the bedroom wall. He paused, and sure enough, the squeak of the hinges of Jackie’s door followed just a few moments later. He kept quiet, trying to determine if he was going to need to get out of bed and intercept whatever mischief she would undoubtedly get into if she was left unwatched. During the day, she could usually be trusted to play quietly by herself, but she’d recently decided she would make herself breakfast in the mornings. It had usually just meant some spills and sticky messes in the kitchen, but last Sunday was Mother’s Day, and Jackie had attempted to make pancakes for Riley as a surprise. It was a sweet thought, but the end result had been spending the entire morning in urgent care. Drake supposed it was a blessing she shattered the mixing bowl early in her effort. Getting some glass shards removed from her foot and a handful of stitches in her palm and sole was probably better than if she’d gotten as far as turning on the stove and burned her hands. But after that, she was officially banned from cooking without one of them in the kitchen. Drake was just curious to see whether or not she followed the new rule.

A couple of seconds later, Drake was able to let out a sigh of relief as their bedroom door swung open. Jackie made a beeline around the bed to Drake’s side, knowing exactly who would be up at this hour. He was impressed how quiet she kept, not making nearly any noise until she stood right next to his nightstand.

“Daddy,” she hissed out in a whisper, “I’m hungry. And you and Mommy said I’m not allowed to make breakfast alone anymore and-”

Drake nodded, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Yeah, that’s right. Thanks for getting me.”

He stretched slightly, watching his daughter bounce on her bare feet that stuck out from the bottom of her shooting star pyjamas as she tried to patiently wait for him to fully get out of bed. As soon as he pushed himself to standing, she bounded out the door, around the corner and into the galley kitchen. Jackie did, at least, wait for him to join her before she pulled out her step stool.

“Alright, Jackie. What are we making?”

“Can we make pancakes?”

Drake raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t exactly surprised, because pancakes were her favorite, but part of him had thought she might be a little less sold on them after her experiences last weekend. But in a lot of ways, she was just like Riley, and her boldness and fearlessness was only one example. “Sure thing, kiddo.”

So they got to work, washing their hands, pulling out the ingredients and supplies. Eventually, Drake cracked the eggs into the bowl before placing it in front of Jackie, letting her stir everything together.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe we should add some chocolate chips?”

Drake glanced over at his daughter, her dark eyes wide as she held the spoon over the bowl. “Jackie, you know you aren’t supposed to have chocolate for breakfast.” They��d been trying to teach Jackie about healthy foods versus treat foods, and adding a definite treat food to breakfast was not exactly sticking with that effort. Plus, Drake knew she was figuring out that she just had to give him that look, and he was likely to cave. Again, not great behavior to enforce.

But it was just hard to tell her “no” when she kept looking at him like that. All the shit that Riley gave him about Jackie having him wrapped around her little finger was definitely true. She was his kid, though, and he just struggled to be tough with her, particularly over something so minor. Especially when she’d been good and listened to them and had come to grab him before she went into the kitchen. So, he stepped over to her other side, opened the pantry cupboard, and pulled out the container of chocolate chips, tossing a few handfuls of them into the bowl. The smile Jackie gave him was more than worth it.

As Drake cooked the pancakes, Jackie set the table. Drake did stop her from pulling out the whipped cream from the fridge; he wasn’t that much of a softie. But soon, they were sitting down to eat, a large stack of chocolate chip pancakes between them. 

“Can we go to the park today?” Jackie asked between bites, reaching up to brush her hair back.

Drake nodded. “I think that can be arranged.”

“And can we get ice cream there?”

“What, the chocolate chips not sweet enough for you?”

“Dad-dy, it’s not the same. Ice cream will be later.”

“No way, kiddo. You are only talking me into one treat today. Hit up Mommy for the next one.”

“Hit me up for what?” Riley’s voice caused him to twist around in his chair, taking her in as she entered the dining space, wrapping her robe around her as she shuffled over to the table.

“Mommy, can we get ice cream at the park later?”

Riley pushed her glasses up her nose as she sat down at her spot, grabbing the plate with the pancakes that Drake passed her. “Are those chocolate chips I spy in the pancakes?”

“Daddy added them.”

“Is that so?” Riley spun to face Drake, a smirk playing across her face.

“It’s probably more fair to call it a joint effort,” he said with a little shrug.

“Marshmallow,” she mouthed at him before turning back towards Jackie. “Well, since Daddy already got you one treat, I think Mommy should get to get you one too, right?”

Jackie frowned, trying to work through Riley’s statement. “Does that mean we’re getting ice cream?” she finally asked, a hopeful look in her eyes.

“It means we’re getting ice cream,” Riley said, shaking her head, “but only if you help clean up breakfast and put away all your toys where they belong.”

Jackie was out of her seat in a flash, dashing into the living room to start cleaning up her toys before her good luck ran out.

“God, she’s going to have so many cavities,” Riley said before taking her first bite.

“Sorry, she gave me that look, and she’d been so good. You know, she came to get me before she went in the kitchen, and I wanted to reinforce that, and-.”

Riley leaned over the table and kissed him, effectively cutting him off. “You are so soft,” she said as she pulled back, tracing her fingers across his cheek.

“Hey, I drew the line at the whipped cream she tried to place on the table!”

Riley chuckled as Jackie walked back past the table into her room, a pile of stuffed animals loaded in her arms. “Oh, my mistake, you clearly are such a hard ass with her.”

“You don’t have a leg to stand on, Liu. You caved just as quickly with her ice cream ask,” Drake said, raising an eyebrow.

Riley smirked before taking another bite. “I am not gonna let you be the favorite parent here just because you get up early and can spoil her first. We’re gonna have to come up with a better strategy, though, because she’s definitely realizing she can play us against each other.”

“It only works because you are so competitive.”

“Me? Who was the one who got mad over losing Candyland last night?”

Drake let out a sigh. “That game is garbage and you know it, Liu.”

She laughed again as Jackie passed back through on her way to collect more toys. “You are only saying that because you lo-oo-ooo-st,” she responded in a sing-song voice.

“Bullshit,” said Drake, quiet enough that his voice wouldn’t carry over to Jackie’s ears. “It’s completely random and it takes way too long and if you had got sent back to the start when you were three squares away from winning, you’d be just as-”

Riley cut him off with another kiss. “Like I said, I am not the competitive one here.”

All Drake could do was roll his eyes. He knew he had a competitive streak, but Riley’s was definitely worse. It was just his luck that he had such a recent example that she could toss out there. “Yeah, yeah. You just keep that sentiment in mind next game night. You want some coffee?”

Riley nodded. “Don’t do all the dishes while you’re in there. She needs to help.”

“I know. I’ll just start things soaking.” Drake couldn’t help but smile as he watched Jackie dart through again, this time carrying her crayons and some coloring books. She was cleaning up her stuff readily, which meant that the ice cream at least motivated some good behavior. She was a good kid, and she was clearly willing to work for a little extra treat. That had to count for something.

Besides, it was a Sunday. And if any day deserved chocolate chip pancakes and ice cream, it was Sunday.

Perma: @mom2000aggie @octobereighth @kingliam2019 @lovingchoices14

TRR/TRH: @iplaydrake @princessleac1 @twinkleallnight @gkittylove99 @ladyangel70 @marshmallowsandfire @axwalker @sirbeepsalot @iaminlovewithtrr @forallthatitsworth @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @hedgehogs-dilemmas

Drake x MC: @petiteboheme @mskaneko

ICWAM: @sunnyxdazed @thequeenofpixels​

[gpoust37]

Let’s Talk About Wanda!

Included massive spoilers for Multiverse of Madness and spoils bits of What If and like all of Star Wars, you’ll see.

The first chunk of this was written on Friday, about 24 hours after seeing the film for the first time. I then saw the movie again Sunday night and it helped me clarify and and see some things through a different point of view with being able to focus on specific details that flew by on my first watch. I’ll note where I picked it up today. Here we go. Buckle up, this is gonna be a long one. So long tumble is forcing me to split it into 2 posts. Lame. This is part 1!

This has been percolating in my head all day and I’m not sure I have a point or just some random observations.

I was talking to somebody on twitter about Wanda and how I was bummed she died because she wouldn’t get a chance for a true redemption arc. It made me think about how there are multiple moments of judgment about the fate of whatever someone should live or die in the movie. The Illuminati judges 838 Strange to death, not for creating an incursion, but for the threat he could potentially be, despite coming clean and renouncing the Darkhold. You could argue the Darkhold had corrupted him too much, but I’d argue that he was able to see the wrong in his actions and went to the his friends that he was not too far gone. Did he mess up? For sure. But did not come across as a guaranteed villain. Yet they kill him.

The Strange that was originally with America judges the life of America as insignificant in the grand calculus of the multiverse. The demon stopped him. Her fate remains open to whatever life has for her.

The Illuminati begin to judge our Strange before being interrupted by Wanda. The way that was going it probably wasn’t going to go in our Strange’s favor, as in general, the Illuminati seems to be pro punishment before crime and the potential crime. But 838 Charles does channel the Fox X-Men Charles by telling us that, “Just because someone stumbles and loses their path, doesn’t mean they’re lost forever.” Revealing that he likely regrets what they did to 838 Stephen and decides to give our Strange the opportunity to live on and do good that they hadn’t given to 838 Strange.

At the end our Strange is forced to judge America against the grand calculus of the multiverse again and if her life is worthy to take or not for the greater good. Of course he decides that her life is worth it and gives her a chance to do what’s she’s meant to do in the way only she can. Then America has to judge Wanda of figuring out her weakness since her strength was not enough to stop her. Only she could take Wanda to where she wanted to go and then could see the monster she had become.

If Charles hadn’t basically allowed our Strange to escape he would have never been able to be there to save America. And America would never have had the chance to stop Wanda.

So, yea, I’m bummed that Wanda saw herself as irredeemable and felt she had to choose death (seemingly, it’s Marvel, you never truly know unless you see the body. Even then…). Could she not have destroyed all the darkholds and stayed alive? Her life was filled with constant death and trauma and tragedy. Her last real happy moments were with people that she created. They weren’t even real happy moments. It’s just such a tragedy. In fact, Wanda has a sad/bad ending in every movie/show she was in. Age of Ultron: her home and country is completely destroyed and her only remaining family, Pietro (brother) is killed. Civil War: Imprisoned at the Raft, is technically rescued by Cap at the last moment of the film, but now she is on the run. Infinity War: personally kills Vision who had become her love to save the universe from Thanos, onto for Thanos to revive him and kill him himself right in front of her. Making her actions and sacrifice of being the one to kill him absolutely pointless. Broken and consumed with grief once again, she is then blipped out of existence for 5 years. Endgame: comes back to living, but at the end goes to Tony’s funeral to grieve all she lost. This is the happiest ending she gets. WandaVision: after taking a town hostage to be puppets for her, she learns that was kind of bad and inadvertently caused them pain on top of their freedom. Defeats Agatha and gives up her created family to go into isolation. But not alone, as she possessed the Darkhold, which we know now how much it corrupted her at this time. Multiverse of Madness: after being corrupted by the Darkhold becomes a monster and after being brought back to her senses, she brings down a massive building all around her implying death.

I don’t say all this to imply there should not be consequences for our actions. But there’s gotta be a better solution than death. So permanent and unforgiving. We find out in the mid credits that our Strange made an incursion happen. But rather than be judged for it, Clea pops out and recruits him to fix it. Who knows how you do that, but if it’s possible, it makes the Illuminati killing 838 Strange all the more sad.

I just wanted that chance for Wanda. The movie makes it seem like she went directly from Westview to going full blown evil and disregarding the lesson the show seemed to tell us. The show took the time to take an entire episode detailing all the pain and trauma she had been through to remind us that she was only human and that she was born with her powers. She hadn’t asked for them. So even after showing what drove her to make Westview, she finds out that she is causing pain to these people and learns that she messed up. So she gives it all up. Nobody else could have stopped her. She beats Agatha, who was her only real threat. She could have recreated the hex and continued on. But she was given a chance to choose and she chose wisely. The show even goes out it’s way to have Monica tell her that nobody would understand the sacrifice she had made. Which, was a little weird. But that’s the message the show was conveying. She seems to go off into isolation to process what just happened and was a good place to stop for now. But then they did show her using the Darkhold and we hear the kids voices. But at the time we didn’t truly know what the Darkhold would do to her. Her studying it doesn’t play as evil from what we knew then. She wanted the kids back, that desire makes sense. But this movie she is full blown evil now and has no regard for human life. She does try to be reasonable, but nothing could come between her and her desire for these children that are not actually hers. She’s so evil that she has to die (maybe?). Sigh.

Random thought, you’re telling me that in the infinite possibilities of the multiverse there wasn’t one where Wanda had died after giving birth to the boys? That she couldn’t have been dropped in there and adopted them? Maybe even with Vision? Something similar to what happens to Natasha at the end of What If. She was able to fill a hole that someone else had left. Would have been pretty beautiful if America could have done this for her. Not fixing anything, but giving an opportunity to get to know the other universe and help bring healing not just to her but to those boys and anyone else who had been close to the deceased Wanda. Where her baggage could be a burden and a hard learned lesson, but unknown to her new universe allowing her a chance to heal and grow from it and to do good there. Could have been nice.

I don’t know, maybe I just see too much of myself in Wanda. I’ve had more than my fair share of death and trauma in my youth than your average person. There are people who have it far worse than i do, but I am not your average person in this aspect. I’ve messed up a lot. Haven’t killed anybody or mind controlled a whole town though. But mistakes have been made that hurt others and myself. I want to believe I can learn and grow from my mistakes and not stay stuck in this loop of self hatred and desire of self destruction. I guess I wanted that for Wanda, too.

Well, this went off the rails cause I haven’t even gotten to the real point I wanted to get to. Along with all those judgments in this film, Moon Knight was also full of this idea of whether judging someone for potential future actions is just or only the ones who have done wrong should be punished. It’s really the central conflict of the show between Khonshu and Ammit.

I thought it was interesting that idea was present in both. Even No Way Home has Peter struggle with how to judge people and how you react to serious wrongs. Obviously this isn’t some new concept and I’m sure we could find more examples from earlier in the MCU. Like Cap seeing Bucky as his friend first no matter what he has done or what’s he’s become. He got to go on and fight Thanos and team up with Sam and is able to heal and grow to be the guy he was before becoming the Winter Soldier.

Like I said at the top, I don’t know if I really have some big point. Just what’s been running through my head all day and wanted to write it down and kind of put it all into words.

Now after seeing the film for the second time (on Mother’s Day, how perfect), I feel a lot better about how Wanda was handled and even more certain about her fate.

After my initial screening, I felt like the Darkhold had been downplayed and the true blame of the evil here was in question. Had Wanda gone insane and evil and then used the Darkhold as a source of great power? Or was a broken Wanda, cut off from the world and remaining friends, corrupted and manipulated by the Darkhold to twist her justifiable anger and grief into violent actions to, in her mind, fix her life/soul? It seemed to lean towards the former for some reason at first, but my second viewing helped me remember some crucial lines of dialogue.

The movie clearly states via our Doctor Strange, “the Wanda we knew is gone. She had the Darkhold and the Darkhold has her.” Without the evil and corruption from the Darkhold, Wanda would not be doing the things she does in this movie. Now, some people point to her Westview situation and say she was already a monster. While I don’t condone what she did, the most powerful person in the universe that couldn’t be stopped by anyone but herself messing up is going to be bigger than a normal mess up. But driven by her grief to create her own world where her “family” can live makes total sense for the character. We are shown that her family used tv time as a way to be together and bond. So recreating that type of experience for her new “family” makes sense. It was wrong though. But someone going through trauma sometimes lash out or do something rash. Like say, slaughter a tribe of Tusken Raiders?

That’s right! If the Doctor Strange quote from above didn’t subtlety remind you of another hero who lead a tragic life that was manipulated and corrupted by the dark side to turn evil and betray former allies and loved ones, this will make the similarities more clear. Like Wanda, who grew up in the downtrodden Sokovis, Anakin grew up in a simple yet dangerous part of the Galaxy. Both have powers that they never asked for. It is found out that both have prophecies about their future and there is uncertainty about exactly what it means. Both suffer various losses. Wanda loses her parents early on. Anakin is forced to leave his mother behind in slavery to be trained by Qui-gon, only for the Jedi council to deny him and for Qui-gon to be killed. Leaving him with new permission to be trained by Obiwan who essentially viewed him as trash when he first heard of him. He meets Palpatine and becomes his mentee. Wanda goes on to lose her brother and her home country. She joins the Avengers and on an early mission accidentally caused collateral damage that includes innocent civilians. Despite saving others at that moment, she is blamed and viewed as merely a weapon of mass destruction rather than a human. She is locked away, deemed too dangerous. Anakin finally goes to save his mother onto for her to die in his arms moments after freeing her. Wanda bonds with Vision and become lovers. After a short time together, where he also helps her with her grief, Thanos shows up and Wanda is forced to make the decision to kill Vision to prevent half the life in the Galaxy form being blipped out of existence. Only for Thanos to revive Vision to immediately kill him again in front of her and to shortly be blipped out of existence for 5 years. She returns after the 5 years and is left having killed her love for nothing and not brought back like herself. In her grief and trauma she creates the Hex and essentially enslaves a town and creates a new Vision and two children, Tommy and Billy. Due to the grief and trauma of losing his mother, Anakin slaughters a tribe of Tusken Raiders, including the women and children. Wanda stops the hex and frees everyone after unknowingly causing pain. She leaves conflicted and vulnerable to her emotions, being told she is the Scarlett witch. Anakin finds solace and love with Padme and they get married. His relationship with Palpatine has grown over the years and it becomes a father/son type situation. Anakin tells him of what he did to the Tuskens and Palpatine justifies it and says it was the right thing to do. He then encouraged him to murder an unarmed (literally) prisoner because he was deemed “too dangerous” to be left alive despite it being against what Anakin is taught to believe. We find out later, this was actually all apart of Palpatine’s plan to influence, manipulate, and corrupt Anakin to the dark side as his apprentice. We see Wanda in isolation, but with the Darkhold beginning to corrupt her and turn her evil. Anakin is asked to spy on his father figure in Palpatine who then manipulates Anakin to turn on his friends to side with him and reveals he is a Sith Lord. Anakin is give the chance to do what’s right, while he does initially, Palpatine is able to manipulate him by claiming to be able to prevent Padme from dying in childbirth. Anakin falls to the dark side, corrupted by evil. He slaughters evoin the Jedi temple, and becomes Darth Vader. Padme confronts him and he chokes her, she ends up dying giving birth, just as he foresaw, caused by his actions. As Darth Vader, he kills many jedi and rebels over the years. Including a famous hallway sequence where we see him fully powered by the dark side slaughtering rebels. Obiwan escapes to protect Luke and later on tells Luke that Darth Vader is more machine now than man and had killed his father. From Luke’s perspective we later learn that Anakin and Vader are the same person. When he had been consumed by the dark side, Anakin had ceased to exist. So you see, it was true, from a certain point of view. Continued in my next post.

[harrywritingsbyme]

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Sunday Smut Concept #29

A/N: Okay, sub!Harry it is😌! It’s cute and spicy with a crappy ending...enjoy🙃

So this gives me major sub!Harry and Y/n vibes for some reason!!

Harry was awfully subby today. From the moment he woke up to now, he’d been feeling small and he had a desperate need to be taken care of. All he wanted to do was cuddle up to you and have his cock played with. When he first woke you up this morning, he was spooning you tight from behind and humping your bare thigh while whining your name (or mommy for that matter) into your ear until you woke up. And once you did in fact wake up and focus your attention onto him, he was beyond happy. He was extremely happy because he was going to be showered in little compliments and kisses and touches from mommy all day long.

Since he was humping your leg and whining at how bad his cock ached, you figured that you’d start his day off with sucking his cock. And due to the fact that your plan for the day was to tease him as much as possible before giving in to his cute little pouts and whines at how his cock is so hard it hurts, you wanted to set the bar really high. And the best way to do that was by fully playing with him.

“Look at that pretty cock of yours baby.” You coo to him, pushing back against his shoulder so that he’s laying back against the bed. You then pull the covers all the way back to that the both of you aren’t underneath them before reaching down to hold him in your hand. “It’s so big and hard.” You continue, squeezing at his solid shaft. Just doing this alone causes Harry to let out a little whine and moan. You hand felt perfect around his cock and he could practically melt at any compliment, even the smallest, you gave him.

“Thank you mommy.” He winces, feeling the soft and warm palm of your and smooth against his leaky and very swollen head. Simply having your hand on him made Harry’s head spin. Any touch in the slightest from you right now could make him burst at the seams.

“Of course baby boy.” You hum back, continuing to slowly stroke at his meaty and very hard cock. As you continue to tug at his cock, you bring your eyes up to watch Harry’s face contort with every movement from your hand. You had to admit that he did look pretty cute. He was biting at his lower lip and whining and moaning from how good your hand felt. He looked so cute that you had to give him a little kiss. It was only supposed to be a little kiss. But when your lips pressed against his, Harry immediately widened his mouth for you to lick into it. So of course, you gladly accept the invitation and you push your tongue down into his mouth and against his tongue. To say that it wasn’t one of the hottest things you’d ever done would be an understatement. The fact that he had his mouth wide open for you to do this to him was insane. And to make it even better, after swirling around and licking into his mouth, when you pull away you spit down into his mouth. And when you do this you can confidently say that his cock jumps in your hand and he quickly swallows before opening back up for more. “Now don’t be greedy sweet boy, mommy is already giving you so much.” You softly reprimand.

“M’sorry mommy, just feels so good.” He whimpers softly, trying his hardest to not buck up into your hand.

“I know baby boy.” You reply sweetly, directing your attention back to his throbbing cock. “How about you get on all fours so that  mommy can play with you some more.” You continue, removing your hand from his cock and shifting away from him so that he could follow your instructions. Once he has enough space, Harry is quick to turn over and raise his hips up into the air. This is why you absolutely loved it when he’s in his subspace. He always does what you tell him.

After he’s done adjusting, you move behind him and you smooth your hands up the backs of his muscular thighs all the way up to the flesh of his ass. When he feels your hands move up there, his cock involuntarily twitches between his legs. It was like he already knew what was coming next. And he was right on point. Instead of holding off, you decided to for right in and bring your mouth to his tightened hole. You widen your mouth so that you’re covering as much of him as possible before darting your tongue out to begin lapping at his entrance. Harry lived for the times when you played with his ass. He couldn’t stop daydreaming about how good your tongue and fingers felt in that area as you played with him. Whenever you did this to him, he always came a lot. It was like you were milking him even more and doing your best to suck every last drop of his cum out of his balls when you played with his bum.

While you lap your tongue up, down, and around his puckered hole, you bring your hands down to his balls and you begin to squeeze them in your hands. You’d never thought you’d say this in a million years but they were perfect. You loved how they felt in your hands. They were large and warm, perfect to squeeze and massage. And perfect to drive Harry wild. He was already losing it because your mouth was buried in his ass, now you were playing with his balls?! He was going out of his mind. He could already feel his release begin to rapidly bubble up in his stomach and he didn’t know if he was going to be able to hold it until you allowed him to cum.

“Fuck baby, your ass is so good.” You praise behind him, lowering your hand that was resting on one of his cheeks down to his hole. You then push two fingers against his hole, moving them back and forth against him. “Maybe if you keep being a good boy, mommy might fill it up. How does that sound?” You hum, keeping your eyes focused on his hole and continuing to massage his balls in the palm of your hand.

“So good mommy.” Harry pants, continuing to enjoy how good you’re making him feel. “My tummy’s burning mommy!” Harry whines, trying his hardest to hold his release.

“Aww, does my good little boy wanna cum?” You mock a little, finally pushing your fingers past his tight entrance and bringing your hand down from his balls to his cock.

“Please mommy, need to.” He whimpers.

“Okay baby, but only if you eat mommy’s pussy to say thank you.” You reply, giving him an ultimatum for his release.

“Anything!” Harry readily agrees. He’d do anything for mommy if it meant he was finally going to be able to cum.

“Good boy.” You praise before pulling away from his cock and ass completely. When he doesn’t feel you on him at all, Harry can feel his eyes watering a bit. He needed to cum so bad and he was really hoping that you weren’t teasing him with his release. But you weren’t doing that at all. Instead of teasing him, you were moving your body so that your face was right below his cock that was hanging heavily right between his thighs. From this angle, you could see just how big his cock was and how leaky and hard he was for you. “Now lower your hips down baby.” You instruct, reaching up to bring your hand to the area right between his balls and his hole. Per usual, Harry instantly begins to follow your instructions and lowers himself down, and unbeknownst to him, he’s lowering his cock right down into your mouth. Keeping your mouth wide and ready, you bring your other hand up as well and you wrap it around the base of him. So you had one hand holding his balls down against his cock and the other at the base of him as he entered your mouth. When he feels his cock being engulfed by your wet and warm mouth, Harry jumps from the surprise. It felt so good to be inside of your mouth. Once your mouth is completly full and he’s all the way down your throat, you begin to quickly tug at his cock in a downwards motion. It was like you were begging him to spill his cum down your throat. You were full on milking his cock. You were gripping onto his cock and balls, moaning around him, and even swallowing around his cock. He couldn’t take it anymore. And in the split second that he came to this resolve, he was erupting into your mouth.

“Fuck mommy!” Harry cries out in relief, feeling the knot in his stomach immediately and swiftly unravel as he unloaded into your mouth.

As he came, you pussy began to throb and tingle. It was all the perfect storm. He was all subby. He was in his hands and knees. He let you play with his ass. And you your throat was filled with his cock, now along with his cum. You were definitely going to need his mouth on you once he came down from his high. Once he’s all done and he’s spurted the last drops of his cum into your mouth, you remove your hands from his now partially limp cock and you lightly pinch his inner thighs for him to lift himself up a bit. You then move yourself from underneath him and you beckon him over to cuddle you. He loved after release cuddles even more when he was in his subspace.

“Did so good baby boy. Mommy’s so proud of you.” You praise him.

“Thank you for making me feel good mommy. Do you want me to eat your pussy now?” He mumbles to you. Even though he was still a little high and a bit sleepy from his release, he was ready to say thank you for allowing him to cum.

“Take your time baby boy, want you to be nice awake when you eat mommy’s pussy.” You hum, raking your fingers through his soft curls.

Masterlist

[inevitably-johnlocked]

30 FAVE BOOKMARKS of 2020

Happy New Year’s Eve-Eve, everyone!! 

And welcome to the Last Fic Rec Wednesday of 2020! No one asked for this at all, but I enjoy making unprompted lists for everyone, and I’ve been doing this list since January 2020 :P

I’ve read some FANTASTIC fics this year, and now seems like a good time as any to share with y’all some  of those amazing fics I’ve added to List of Love! I had to even whittle it down today to get it to 25 – the number I like as a “top xx” thing, so I am very disheartened that a lot of my bookmarks this year didn’t make the list :( It’s been a long time since I’ve done a “last XX bookmarked fics” list, maybe I’ll do one of those soon.

First off let’s start with 5 honourable mentions of Other Fandom fics, because I spent a lot of my summer indulging in my renewed Rimmster ship so I have a few amazing RD fics y’all should read LOL

FIVE OTHER-FANDOM HONOURABLE MENTIONS

Réveillon by Big_Edies_Sun_Hat (T, 6,431 w., 3 Ch. || GOOD OMENS || Christmas Eve, Angst, Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, Established Relationship, International Travel, Moments in Time, Historical / Biblical Interpretation) – After a gloomy history with Christmas, Aziraphale shows Crowley how he has learned to seek out the good in it by traveling around the world on Christmas Eve. Highlights include: the Annunciation; potholes; international teleportation; peace and hope; arson; Lupe gets a doll of her very own.

Out With It by Clipped_Ionian_Vowels (T, 10,255 w., 1 Ch. || RED DWARF || Post-Ace, Reclaimed Slurs, Getting Together, Sexuality, Coming Out) – Rimmer finally comes home, hangs up the wig and decides to set the crew 'straight' about one thing; he's not. And neither, it transpires, is Lister.

Standards by Kahvi & Roadsterguy (E, 11,725 w., 2 Ch. || RED DWARF || Hard Light Rimmer, Bickering, Humour, First Time, Over-Protective Kryten, Cranky Rimmer, Exploring Derelicts, Arguing Leads to Awkward Flirting, Showering Together, Intense Orgasms) – Yet another supply raid on a derelict leads Rimmer and Lister to an argument, which in turn leads to... something that's still fairly close to an argument. You get lonely in space, but you do have standards.

speed limits (and how to break them) by darcylindbergh (E, 13,750 w., 4 Ch. || GOOD OMENS || POV Crowley, UST/URT, Mutual Pining, Romance, First Kiss/Time, Crowley’s Anxiety, Gift Giving, Humour, Touching, Awkwardness, Love Confessions, Sussex, Fantasies Become Real, Marriage Proposal, Sensuality, Bottom Crowley) – There is a trick people do with a mint candy and a bottle of cola which results in a small eruption, and something very like it, for much higher stakes than a laugh in a car park, is about to take place in Aziraphale’s back room. Or: what happens when you finally unscrew the cap on a six thousand years of repression, and drop in Valentine’s Day.

Hand in Glove by lizardkid (T, 14,223 w., 1 Ch. || RED DWARF || Post-S9, Internalized Homophobia, Repression, Hurt/Comfort, Lister Whump, Worried Rimmer, Ableist Language, Cuddling) – Lister is mortally wounded in an accident. Rimmer is forced to reassess everything.

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

AND NOW: The reason y’all are here! Please know I love EVERYTHING I’ve read and bookmarked, just these ones have really stuck with me and I’ve already re-read a few of these, so yeah, please do enjoy. 

Please note that these fics aren’t all necessarily NEW fics for 2020, more like they were new to ME, and ergo, I bookmarked and started reccing them this year! There are a few newer fics, though, so yeah, apologies if you were expecting only new things.

Hope you all have a good New Year’s Day, and I hope this list makes the long weekend a great one until my FIRST Fic Rec Sunday of 2021! I might do two on Sunday just to celebrate the new year, hahah. <3 Love you all!

TOP 25 JOHNLOCK BOOKMARKS OF 2020

SEE ALSO:

Top 20 Bookmarks of 2018

Top 25 Bookmarks of 2019

The Imminent Danger of a Tumblr-Night by Loveismyrevolution (T, 2,135 w., 1 Ch. || Tumblr Fics, Friends to Lovers, Sherlock is Out of His Depth, Humour, Fluff, Pining Sherlock, Military Kink, POV Sherlock) – Sherlock gets into trouble when he pretends to know all about John's favourite social media site - tumblr. To save face he seeks help from one of the bloggers and gains more answers than he had aimed for.

Living Musical by VeeTheRee (G, 4,149 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Hobbies, Summer, Song Fic, POV Sherlock, Painting, Play Fighting, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Love Declarations, Hair Petting, Promise of Forever) – A one-shot of John and Sherlock being domestic during summer. There is paint, fluff, and music from Imagine Dragons, namely from the album 'Speak To Me', specific song in this one-shot is 'Living Musical'. Part 1 of the Happy Fluffy Johnlock Time series

Stranded by BeautifulFiction (T, 5,798 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Communication / Relationship Discussion, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, BAMF John, Doctor John, Case Fic, Drinking, Huddling For Warmth, Friends to More) –  When stranded on a derelict barge at high tide, John and Sherlock reconsider their friendship.

Bridges by sussexbound (M, 6,602 w., 1 Ch || Post-TLD / S4 Fix It, Love Confessions, Mending Relationships, Moving Back In, Pining Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Past Abuse, Shaving) – The silence between them is deafening, interrupted only by the hum of the traffic outside, and the soft click-clunk of the plastic cups Rosie is playing with on the floor beside them. It is the first time they have been alone together, since Sherlock’s birthday. It’s only been two days, but it feels huge, important, like there is a precarious bridge stretched out before them both that they need to at least attempt to traverse.

To be loved by Strange_johnlock (E, 12,436 w., 8 Ch. || Post S3, Established Relationship, First Person POV Sherlock, Pet Names, Soft Sherlock, Mild ADHD, Protective John, Captain Watson, Body Appreciation, Bottomlock, Rough Sex, Travelling for Holidays, Introspection, Sherlock Loves John So Much It Hurts) – John is so deeply integrated into the work, both as my conductor of light, and as a great shot with a vicious right hook who tackles men -and women- no matter their size all in my defense. He protects me with all he can without question, and this loyalty is surely more than I deserve. Or: Sherlock is counting his blessings.

On The Fence by BeautifulFiction (T, 13,770 w., 1 Ch. || Fencing, Case Fic, First Kiss, Insecure John, Pining John, Hug, Greg Finds Out) – The murder of the King's College fencing champion leads to revelations about Sherlock's past. Will it be the point that tips them from friends to lovers, or will they remain on the fence?

The Invocation of Saint Margaret by Ewebie (E, 15,831 w., 1 Ch. || POV John, Crossing Timelines, Light Angst, Fluff, Series 3 John / Series 1 Sherlock, The Matchbox, Mushy Romance, First Time, Bisexual John, Pining John, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Sensuality, Emotional Love Making, Snippets of Time) – When Sherlock Holmes opens the matchbox from The Sign of Three and John finds himself years in the past, back to that first dinner at Angelo's with a much younger Sherlock Holmes. Is he dreaming?

Permanent Fixture by vitruvianwatson (E, 18,836 w., 9 Ch || Post-S4, Parentlock, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, They’re Good Parents, Blushing Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Explicit Consent, Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Big Feelings, Crying, First Kiss, Fluff, Anxious Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Emotional Communication, Love Confessions) – Now, as Rosie sat curled up against Sherlock’s side, John watched and wondered exactly how he had ended up here. Domesticity had never suited him before, not at any point in his life. His disastrous marriage had been proof of that. But somehow, here in the warmth and safety of 221B Baker Street, here with Sherlock Holmes reading medical jargon to his daughter, Sherlock’s bony feet nudging against his leg, John couldn’t imagine anyplace that would make him happier.

Division by MrsNoggin (E, 19,542 w., 11 Ch. || Coffee Shop AU || First Kiss/Time, Fluff, Barista Sherlock, Clingy Sherlock, POV John, John’s Limp, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, Sensuality, Touching, Virgin Sherlock, Insecure John) – John likes mysteries. And every morning he dips into the local independent coffee bar with his newspaper and ponders another... one Sherlock Holmes.

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

Inscrutable to the Last by DiscordantWords (M, 48,842 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, Alternate S3, John’s Blog/S3 is a Story By John, Divorce, Marital Difficulties, John is a Mess, Emotional Reunion, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Grief / Mourning, Pining John, First Kiss, Adorably Clueless Sherlock, Nostalgia, Love Confessions, Eventual Happy Ending) – He wasn't Sherlock, he couldn't work miracles. All he'd ever been able to do was write about them.

Anchor Point by trickybonmot (E, 49,856 w., 80 Ch. || Truman Show AU || Psychological Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Dark Characters / Fic, Alternating First/Third Person, Protective John, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Tender Moments, Love Confessions, Hand/Blow Jobs, Cuddling, Jealous John, First Kiss/Time) – The world tunes in nightly for Sherlock, the ultimate in reality TV: Sherlock Holmes, a real person with a legendary name, unknowingly lives out his life in a staged setting contrived by his brother. Things get complicated when a retired army doctor joins the show to play the part of Sherlock's closest friend. This fic borrows its concept from the 1998 film, the Truman Show. However, you don't need to have any knowledge of the movie to enjoy this story.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

A Goose Quill Dipped in Venom by Polyphony (M, 52,748 w., 16 Ch. || Celebrity John AU || Alternate First Meeting, TV Host John, Supermodel Mary, Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Case Fic, First Kiss/Time, Meddling Mycroft, Drug Abuse, Doctor John, PDA, Deductions, POV Sherlock, Toplock, Sexual Tension, Angry/Rough Sex, Hopeful Ending, Asperger’s Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, is called in to a very ordinary although brutal murder. Something is badly out of tune with the whole scenario and Sherlock finds himself becoming more and more obsessed with the crime - and also with the victim.

Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

Isosceles by SilentAuror (E, 56,609 w., 7 Ch. || Post-S4, POV John, Original Male Character / Sherlock Dates Another Man, Love Triangle, Jealous John, Virgin Sherlock, Sexual Coaching, Angst, Romance, Domesticity, Unrequited Feelings, Miscommunication, First Kiss/Time, For a Case, Friends With Benefits, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Spooning) – After solving a case for a major celebrity, Sherlock gets himself asked out. When John asks, he discovers that Sherlock has no intention of going, at least not until John agrees to coach him through whatever he might need to know for his date...

Lunar Landscapes by J_Baillier (M, 57,046 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || S3/TAB Fix-It, Slow Burn Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Confessions, Drugs, Pain, Medical, Injury, Sherlock Whump, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Romance, Secrets, Tragedy, Trauma, BAMF John, Doctor!John, Drug Addict Sherlock, Injured Sherlock, Grieving John, Idiots In Love, Protective John, POV John Watson, PTSD Sherlock, Sherlock is a Mess, Medical Realism) – An accident forces John to face the fact that Sherlock's downward spiral had started long before his flight to exile even left the tarmac.

Gold Rush by ShirleyCarlton (E, 71,783 w., 17 Ch. || Post S3 / No Mary, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of Past Sexual Abuse, First Kiss, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Alternating POV, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Marriage Proposal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abduction, Anxious/Insecure Sherlock, Miscommunication, Emotional Lovemaking) – John has divorced Mary and pops round to 221B one evening to find Sherlock in the middle of a case. As Sherlock tries to find the identity of a young woman’s stalker, John realises he can no longer deny his feelings for Sherlock – which then, to their befuddlement, turn out to be mutual. Shy kisses and tentative embraces ensue. But will Sherlock be able to cast off a shadow from his past that he thinks might prevent John from wanting to stay?

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater /  Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

Kintsukuroi by sussexbound (E, 91,823 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Compliant / Post-TLD, Grief / Mourning, PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Therapy, Past Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Anxiety, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Suicidal Ideation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Sexting, Frottage, Inexperienced Sherlock, Rimming / Anal / BJ’s, Emotional Turmoil, Finding Each Other) – “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”  

The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Asexual Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Flashbacks, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Case Fic, Sherlock’s Past, Awkward Conversations, Anxious Sherlock) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU ||  BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.

[imaginesbymk]

“There is no Goodbye.”

The Pacific One Shot

Summary: Nothing is more ironic than Eugene breaking up with you just for the sake of sparing you the heartbreak if he were to die at war. But when he’s lucky to return home to Mobile, his first mission is to find you. Will Eugene be able to win you back before someone else does?

Pairing: Eugene Sledge x Fem!Reader

Non Requested

Tags: angst/breakup, swearing, smoking, drinking, mentions of an ethnic slur + mentions of war violence

Word Count: 3,016

Author’s Note: song inspiration for this oneshot is wait by m83!!! i totally recommend this song cos its so beautiful!! pls give this a like/reblog and maybe some feedback!! <333

YOU were sick of crying in your pillow every night. You were aware of how puffy your eyes must have been by now, you acknowledged your friends who called and visited, checking on you, but not even that helped soothe the heartache in you. His name just kept echoing in your mind and replayed, finding their way into your sleep. You wished you hated Eugene Sledge, but deep down in your heart- you just couldn’t.

Three knocks came on your bedroom door. “Y/n, your food’s getting cold,” you heard your mother from the other side.

“I’m not hungry.” You couldn’t remember the amount of times you’ve used that as an excuse to stay where you were, depressed and heartbroken. 

Eugene broke up with you on a Sunday night. You two were dressed for the occasion; a dinner party was held at a grand convention center that was known and popular by several Alabamians. You wore the necklace Eugene got you as a gift, and you loved showing it off. In fact, you wore it every day to remind yourself, your family and your friends that Eugene Sledge was the love of your life. 

Later you noticed how strange he was acting the whole dinner, how quiet and tense he got so suddenly. His hand would slip away whenever you held it while walking, or when they were held under the table. It was like he was trying to hold something back, like a cat catching his tongue. Then, you found him outside, leaning against the stairway. 

“What is it, Eugene?” 

He paused every time he looked at you, how it pained him to say what he needed to say. Whether it was now or never, he leaves for the train in a couple of days.

“Wait a minute, Eugene,” You remembered your body turning cold as ice, but not from the night breeze. “Are you breaking up with me?”

Oh how you wished he was kidding, but the look on his face read that he wasn’t in the slightest. He was joining the marines corps, despite his heart murmur and his father and brother encouraging him to go to college instead. He flunked out of his classes on purpose just to enlist, and since only God knows what fate lies ahead, he felt it was best to put a stop to the relationship.

It wasn’t your right to be angry about his choices sometimes. He was in his twenties now, old enough to make up his mind. He was fighting for everyone’s freedom, after all, which is probably the bravest thing Eugene is doing. However, you didn’t understand why. Eugene was a believer, he believed in God and miracles. He asked God to send him a miracle through prayer in his own time, and they were answered in the form of you. So why couldn’t he believe in the stable relationship you both can still have even when he’s off to fight?

As expected, you didn’t take it too well. Right there, you broke down in front of him. Eugene walked over and reached his hand out to touch your shoulder, but you shoved him away. 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. You angrily ripped the necklace off of you and threw it at him before running off in tears. He never chased after you.

You dared not to go back inside the dining hall where your family and friends were, as well as his, so you walked home by yourself without waiting for anyone to catch up with you. He was going mad, you bet. Enlisting in the marines was one thing, but calling it quits on your relationship?

That was the last time you saw Eugene. He didn’t wait to see if you would turn up at the train station, begging him to have a change of heart. He never saw you there, and he boarded the train to California.

What were you more upset about: the love of your life dumping you, or the chances of the love of your life dying?

THE year was now 1945, and Eugene sat in the passenger seat in Sid’s mobile when he picked him up from the station. 

The Japanese surrendered, and the boys back at the islands held a celebration with drinking, bonfires and loud music. Eugene, Snafu and Burgin sat on the rocks, watching the night sky, contemplating their return to home.

Victory Day was now nighttime, Eugene blew out smoke from his pipe, counting the stars. His tiny bible that was pocketed in his dungarees was pulled out, using the distant lit fires as a light to read through the tallied marks from the book of Genesis to Thessalonians, then out came a piece of paper that fell onto his lap. 

He picked it up and unfolded it, taking another puff from his pipe. Eugene reads the first two words. 

Dear y/n

The letter was never delivered to you because it was a letter Eugene had never sent, in fact it was never finished. He never got his first sentence down as they were ordered to get their gear ready to move down Okinawa. He never wrote a letter to you at all for the rest of his time serving, because he knew he wouldn’t be receiving one back.

Snafu slapped him awake one night and told him to shut up because he kept saying your name in his sleep. Eugene sounded desperate and panicked when he said it, too, and if the volume increased, it would have given away their spot. The marine was lucky it was a slap in the face rather than a bullet to the skull. 

The next day, Snafu asked Eugene for two things: a light, and who “y/n” was.

“She was my girl,” Eugene handed a lighter to Snafu to light his cigarette.

“Was.”

“I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her at home just for a man in uniform to come to her door to tell her I’ve been KIA.”

“Shit, so you dumped her?” Snafu grins. “Should of given her to me, Sledgehammer.”

Eugene didn’t laugh. It was an inappropriate joke, no surprise coming from Snafu himself. He sat in the filth in silence, his bloodied and dirty hands holding your gold necklace that you threw at him. He brought it with him to war, and kept it as a bookmark in his Bible.

Eugene’s home was the same as he had left it, he knew that when Sid pulled up at the long pathway at the gates. Georgia cottage was indeed a sight, and Eugene loved it so much as a child. It was spacious with nature and trees to walk his dog, a forest down the road to go hunting and fishing with his father, a meadow where he would take you on a warm day.

Sid sat in the parked car for a few moments, Eugene hadn't started walking to the front door just yet. “I visited her,” Sid broke the silence. “Just like I promised.”

Eugene had to ask, “How is she?”

“I was starting to think she had forgotten about you... that was until I showed up at her door,” he replies. “It was tense, but she’s doing all right.”

Eugene nods, smiling a bit. He trusted his best friend to check up on you for him. At least you were doing fine, according to Sid’s words. "No crying?”

“She don’t cry no more. I introduced her to Mary Houston and invited her to my wedding- if that’s alright with you.”

He chuckled, making a face. “Why would I not be? It’s your wedding, you greaser.”

“Well one, and you should probably take my word for it, Y/N still hates your guts,” he said. “And two, whether or not she speaks to you at all on my wedding day, at least I’ll have you there as my best man.” Sid noticed the look on his best friend’s face. “There’s the O.O.M ball coming up. Y/n’s gonna be there.”

He smiles at him. “See you later?”

“Welcome home, Eugene.” And he drives off, prompting Eugene to reunite with his parents.

[x]

SHOWING up to the O.O.M ball immediately made you feel bummed. You showed up without a date. You shouldn’t have the right to feel bummed, anyway. You turned down any guy that had asked you. You could have said yes, but something in your heart was telling you no, and you couldn’t figure out what it was. 

Sighing, you suddenly didn’t feel like going to the bar for a second drink, and you just didn’t like waiting until your friends weren’t with their dates to go up to talk to them, so you found yourself heading outside to the front. It’s not like you could escape the guests, as tables and chairs were set outside occupied with more people, and even more people standing around and chatting with their friends.

You leaned over a tree where you felt like no one could see you for approach, being able to hear the loud music from the inside. But for what? You could just leave and say you felt sick. What were you waiting for? 

Several years had gone by since he left, and nothing about you has changed. Your hair grew a bit after a slight trim, and so has your wardrobe. Your dress was pretty expensive, and no one complimented it. You just needed someone to come up to you and say- 

“You look beautiful.” 

You spun around, knowing that Southern accent all too well. Not a lot of alcohol was consumed, so asking yourself if you drank too much that you started to see and hear things was out of the question. How did he know where to find you? How was he able to sneak up on you like how he used to as a surprise? He’d always do that, then pick you up and spin you around with joy. But this time, he stood in front of you, gazing at you like a painting.

Your vision started blurring.

“Y/n?” he thought you were having a stroke in front of him, and he reached out his hand. “Y/n?”

“Gimme a minute.” You breathed heavily, gripping the tree for support. Maybe you were about to faint in shock. After picking up your senses, you were able to respond. “Eugene,” you said softly. “You’re here.”

He nodded. “In the flesh.” You really couldn’t believe it. Maybe you were seeing and hearing things. But he was here. Eugene Sledge was really here, standing before you, and not a scratch on his face. His hair was fixed, too, and you could tell he was now in greater shape.

“How was...” you felt like you shouldn’t ask for so many reasons. “I mean, you made it. You’re home.”

“At last,” he answered, placing his wooden pipe in his mouth. “What are you doing all the way over here? Your date’s probably searching all of Mobile for you.”

“I don’t have a date,” you shook your head. “I mean, I came alone. I didn’t bring anyone.”

“You too?” he blew out smoke.

“Yeah. Um-” all it took was for you to breath in and crunch your nose from the awful stench of nicotine that everyone was so used to. “Since when did you start smoking?” 

He shrugged. “Since I killed my first Jap. Helps me calm down.”

"Well... I’m talking to you and you’re blowing smoke right in my face.”

Eugene nodded, taking the pipe out. “Sorry. How have you been?”

“Good.”

Eugene furrowed his brows. “That’s it? Just good?”

“I mean, what else would you expect me to say?”

“You’ve completed your education, you’re engaged, you and your partner are buying a house?”

“Jesus, Eugene. It’s way too early for that. I can’t even drive.”

“I’m kidding. I can only assume you’re in complete shock. I can’t say I’m not surprised,” Eugene says. “I can also assume you hated me as soon as you threw the necklace I gave you right at me.”

“And I still hate you.”

He looks at you, scoffing. “Is that right?”

“Yes,” you folded your arms. “You dump me and leave to join the marine corps, I wrote you a letter on your birthday and you never wrote back, every time I see your parents at the market they look at me like I’m the face of death. You shouldn’t have come here, I was doing just fine.”

“Really?” Eugene raised his eyebrows. The nonsense coming out that mouth. If only Eugene could kiss them shut. "All right. Heard you spoke with Sid.”

“Yeah, and? He invited me to his wedding."

“And he asked me to be his best man. So you might as well hold in your punch until the wedding is over.”

Your blood started to boil. Maybe you haven’t changed, but the war did indeed change the hell out of him. This attitude he carried wasn’t impressing you one bit. “What the hell’s your problem?”

“My problem? I’m trying to have a conversation with you, y/n.”

“And you’re acting as if I’m the reason you dumped me.”

“I had my reasons,” he spoke back,

“Damn you, Eugene Sledge!” you slapped him repeatedly on his chest and shoulder. “Damn you for hurting me like that! Damn you for not writing to me! Damn you for leaving me!”

You cried out, as he simply stared and did his best to restrain your arms away from hitting him once more. 

He never spoke a word until you calmed down. Then, you realized... “Oh God, Eugene. I’m so sorry,” you gasp. “I would never lay a hand on you.”

“A Jap tried to kill me with a bayonet,” Eugene said. “I kinda had that slap coming.”

You let a tear fall down your cheek, and you looked down so Eugene wouldn’t be able to notice, but he was smart enough to know. “Baby... it’s okay. I’m here now.” He pulled you close and held you. You haven’t felt his touch since that night. You were overcome with the nostalgia during the happy times, and even the sad times. He would hold you like you were gonna slip right out of his hands.

“I’ve missed you so much, y/n. There hasn’t been a night where I haven’t dreamt about you, where I would die, or where I would watch you marry a man who doesn’t know you the way I do.”

“Eugene... you broke my heart and just stomped on it like mud.”

“And you had every right to be hurt, but that was never my intention, I just did what I thought was the right thing.” He played with the curls in your hair and kissed you softly on your temple.

It wasn’t like it was a last minute decision. Regardless his heart murmur was there or not, he wasn’t going to stay home and attend classes. Breaking up with you wasn’t last minute, either. 

“I guess I should have been more understanding,” you admit, leaning back against the tree. 

“I spent nights trying to come up with what I was going to say, and when I was planning on saying it. I used to worry about the murmur, if I’d remember to feed Deacon, or telling my Mother about my plans for the future.”

“You weren’t sure about any of those things, Gene.”

“Seeing your face that night made me realize I’m never going to love anyone else the way I love you,” Eugene shook his head slowly. “I was definitely sure about that.”

“Loved,” you correct him.

“No, y/n. Love. I still love you, more than the stars reach the apex of this goddamn universe. I don’t think I’m ever gonna stop loving you. You’re really the answer God has given me after endless nights of praying for something good.”

“Then why didn’t you write me?”

“I had to find a way to move on. If it distracted me from fighting, I would have been as good as dead. Something in me died from the war, but the feelings I have for you are still here.”

You couldn’t help but smile a bit. “I love you more, Eugene.”

“So I hope it’s not too late to ask this,” Eugene said. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N, are you seeing anyone?”

You shook your head.

He raised his brows. “So for nearly four years, you haven’t been seeing anyone? Not one fella?”

“I tried to. I mean, I kept thinking you slept with a nurse.”

“Women weren’t even in my corner of the pacific, and nurses were there to do their jobs. Besides,” Eugene smiled. “I’d rather come home to the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known in Mobile.”

“Mary Houston?”

Eugene laughs. “I was talking about you. At least you’re humble.” He laughed harder when you started playfully slapping him on the chest repeatedly again. “Hey! But there’s no one I’d rather be with. I’m willing to start over, maybe pick up where we left off.”

“I would love that.” 

Eugene reached in his tux pocket, pulling out the golden necklace you loved wearing. “I believe this belongs to you.” He walked behind you, and began wrapping the necklace around your neck, clipping the lock together in place. “Y’know, after throwing it right at my face?”

“Sorry,” you blushed. “Don’t ever do that again; saying goodbye.”

“There is no goodbye.” He turned your head to face him using his finger under your chin. “There never was, just the old hello.”

You smiled again. 

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” He pulls you close to him. “Is that all right?”

“You can kiss me whenever you feel like it, Gene.” And you wouldn’t mind it one bit.

“Yes, ma’am.” And he leans in, kissing you almost a dozen times now, the overcoming nostalgia of the good time hitting once more. “And once I’m done kissing the daylights outta you, I’m bringing you inside. It’s been a while since I’ve danced with the love of my life.”

the end

[acnelli]

A Favourite

My entry for Ron’s Chessboard Fest 2021.

Pairing: Ron/Hermione

Rating: T

Summary: Ron discovers a group chat that is discussing just how handsome he actually is.

Thanks to TheUltimateUndesirable for organising the Fest.

This prompt had been submitted by @accio-broom​ who also happened to be the beta for this story. Your help and suggestions are always so much appreciated!

@accio-broom​ got inspired by this post by @headcanonsandmore​. So, thank you for the lovely idea! I wanted to write this ever since I saw this post and prompt 39 fit the bill perfectly.

You can also read this story on AO3 & FFN.

“Where are you guys meeting tonight?” Hermione asked as she and Harry cleared the table while Ron and Ginny set up the cleaning charms. 

“George’s place this time,” Ron answered and swooped up some foam of the soapy dishwater to smear it across Hermione’s cheek. 

Sometime after the war, the Weasley siblings established the tradition to meet up once a month. Just the six of them going out for a pint or simply getting pissed at one of their places. This resulted in another kind of meet up, consisting of the Weasley siblings’ significant others. Tonight, they would play a French card game which Fleur insisted on being a lot of fun. The rest of them simply agreed because most of the time, they ended up just talking and drinking anyway. 

Playfully swatting Ron’s hand away, Hermione cleaned her face with a tea towel, placing it neatly back on the designated hook. Kreacher liked the kitchen to be spotless, and letting them cook for themselves every now and then at all had already been a huge compromise from Kreacher’s side. So, they always made sure to clean up after themselves; otherwise, Kreacher would immediately take over all kitchen duties again. 

Ginny sat down on Harry’s lap when all the plates and cutlery were taken care of and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. She lifted Harry’s left arm to check the time on the gold watch the Weasley’s gifted him years ago. 

“Ron, we should’ve left already.”

“Gin, you know every single Weasley is a notorious latecomer. Except for Percy, maybe. George will probably be not even out of the shower when we arrive,” Ron reasoned as he rummaged through the fridge for the sixpack of Muggle beer he bought to bring to George, “or taking a shite.”

While Ginny and Harry snickered, nodding their heads in agreement, Hermione just sighed and rolled her eyes. At some point, she gave up berating Ron about his foul mouth. It was a lost cause, and while she would never admit it out loud, she would definitely miss it if he suddenly stopped cursing. Mainly because over the years, Hermione gathered some exclusive knowledge about what to do for Ron to bring forth a particular choice of swear words.

Ron hardly censored himself, except when Teddy, Victoire and Molly were in the room. Not only would Mrs Weasley twist Ron’s ear off, Hermione definitely drew the line when children were present. She could’ve also lived without the image of George sitting on the toilet. 

They heard the fireplace roar to life, and a few moments later, Audrey came into the kitchen, dressed in grey tracksuit bottoms, white trainers and an oversized blue shirt that sure enough belonged to Percy. Her outfit clashed with the fancy bottle of wine she held in her left hand. 

Hermione looked at Ron, who she had to talk out of wearing his trackies tonight, and into a pair of nicely fitting jeans instead, along with one of his old Cannon shirts. He lifted an eyebrow at her when he saw Audrey’s casual clothes, but Hermione ignored it. 

Audrey sat down with a heavy sigh. “I knew I’m too early. Why am I dating someone so over-punctual?”

“You’re not because Gin and I are leaving now.” Ron laughed as he gave Audrey a quick hug before kissing Hermione and wishing them a fun night. “Don’t do what I wouldn’t do.”

“I think we’re fine then,” Harry commented from behind Ron, where Ginny gave him a peck on the cheek before heading out of the kitchen. 

As Ron turned around, Hermione pinched his arse, not ashamed to cop a feel as she gave him an innocent smile, and he rewarded her with his trademark lopsided grin. “Is this why you wanted me to wear these tight jeans? So, you could properly feel me up?” He asked as he leaned down to give Hermione another kiss.

“ROOON!” Ginny cried from the living room before he could properly snog his girlfriend again. He sighed and gave her a quick peck on the mouth instead.

“Actually, I wanted you to wear them so I can ogle you from behind.” She whispered before he went out of earshot. Ron didn’t turn around, but he gave his hips an extra swing before vanishing out of the kitchen. 

“God, that was gross,” Audrey commented but winked at Hermione anyway, “How can you stand that every day, Harry?” 

Harry was just about to give her an answer when they heard several people arriving via floo, and he settled for just rolling his eyes instead. 

Accompanied by a cloud of some very nice smelling perfume, Fleur glided into the kitchen and right behind her appeared a tall, blonde man Hermione and Harry never met before. This had to be Charlie’s new boyfriend. Ron and Ginny met him last Sunday over at the Burrow when both Harry and Hermione stayed at home since they still had been recovering from a rather nasty case of the flu. 

Fleur took Finn –as he introduced himself in a thick Swedish accent– directly with her from the Burrow where she put Victoire to bed and where Molly and Arthur happily watched over their first grandchild. Harry was secretly happy to finally have another guy in their round again. Not that he minded the company of Hermione, Fleur, Angelina and Audrey. Actually, he always enjoyed their monthly gatherings, but it was nice to not be the only rooster in the yard.

“I’m here, I’m here! I just wanted to stop by the store to grab some more Butterbeer.” Angelina said and put the bottles on the kitchen table. As always, they had a good variety of booze to choose from; Angelina’s Butterbeer, wine from both Fleur and Audrey, the Firewhiskey Harry bought yesterday, and some Cider Hermione picked up from her way home from work. It was way too much already, of course, but that didn’t stop Kreacher from making so much elf wine that they’ll probably never had to buy alcohol ever again. 

As Hermione and Harry added some glasses and snacks, Audrey observed the table with a huge smile on her face. She clapped her hands in childish glee, grabbed a bottle of wine and started to fill Hermione’s wine glass. 

“Fleur, explain that card game to us.”

 *****

Ron was annoyed. 

Because his dear brother was utter rubbish at calculating what would be the appropriate amount of booze for six people, they ran out of beer and whiskey after not even two hours. Due to his bad luck at rock paper scissors, he ended up going back to Grimmauld Place to get them some more beer and one or two bottles of Kreacher’s wine.

The moment he walked through the fireplace, loud shrieks and booming laughter sounded over from the kitchen. Ron planned to just quickly walk into the kitchen, taking what they needed out of the fridge and go back to George’s place. He stopped in his tracks as the conversation filtered through to the living room because he didn’t want his presence to be known just yet.  

“…okay, okay, Hermione. Don’t look at me like that. I complimented your choice in men. Ron is a stilig karl.” Finn said, his booming voice carrying easily over to the living room. Ron didn’t know what stilig karl meant, but from what context he was able to overhear, Finn might’ve just said something nice about him. 

As silently as possible, he stepped out into the hallway where he could hear the conversation better but would remain undetected by the occupants of the kitchen. 

“I personally like his jawline, especially when he lets it go stubbly. It’s…,” Audrey snipped her fingers, “very tempting to touch sometimes. Remember Sunday afternoon after lunch? I kind of had to restrict myself from starring at his jaw when he listened to the Cannons game on the radio. Such determination.”

Ron was sure he was glowing in the dark as he felt the blush creeping up his neck, his face no doubt looking like a tomato. He expected many things, but he certainly didn’t expect to run into this kind of conversation. 

“What does Percy have to say about you lusting over his brother?” Hermione asked, and Ron had to stop himself from bursting out into a laugh because he could practically see her narrowing her eyes. 

“Oh, Hermione, don’t be such a prude. There is nothing wrong with admiring somebody else than your own partner. It eez only natural.”

Ron could not hear Hermione clear enough, but he thought he could hear her muttering something like ‘I’m not a prude.’ 

“Does somebody else has a favourite part of Ron they want to elaborate on? Or can we finally start the next round of cards?” Again, the red-head tried his hardest not to laugh when everyone just ignored Hermione’s sarcasm and, indeed, continued elaborating on the topic.

“His arse!” Angelina offered. From the way she was dragging the ‘s’ a little, he could tell she was already slightly tipsy. “Ron has a very nice bum. Do you guys train your arses in these weekly training sessions at work, Harry?”

Of course, this brought forth another wave of hysterical laughter, which only intensified when Finn told Harry to keep him in mind for these arse workouts. “Maybe I’ll learn something.”

When Angelina recovered from her giggling fit, she declared to Harry she too wants to sign up for that training then added, “But Ron had a nice arse before Auror training anyway.”

“And when did you notice that may I ask?”

“Hermione, it’s almost impossible to play Quidditch and not have a nice arse. Sitting on a broom for hours is no picnic for those muscles,” Angelina answered, unfazed by Hermione’s haughty undertone while Audrey let out something between a snort and laugh, resulting in a rather violent coughing fit. 

“Don’t you agree, Hermione?” Angie asked innocently as she clapped the still coughing Audrey on the back. 

All the ruckus must have summoned Crooshanks because the ginger cat ran towards Ron. He quickly picked him up and started to scratch him behind the ear, successfully stopping him from running inside the kitchen and surely disrupting the conversation inside. And a shame this would be, considering Ron really wanted to hear his girlfriend’s answer.

“I certainly agree,” Hermione said calmly, “Ron hated his hand-me-down jeans, but I always had been very fond of them. Especially, their tendency to hug him in all the right places.”

So much for these new tight jeans, she talked him into buying, Ron thought, not being able to stop the huge grin splitting his face. Running into this conversation certainly was a pleasant coincidence. 

Apparently, the others didn’t expect Hermione to answer so smoothly because a chorus of approving whistles startled Crookshanks, and Ron almost dropped him when the cat clawed at his arm. 

“So, you guys are mostly fond of his arse,” Finn mused, taking a quick swig of his beer, “which is understandable but did you ever notice his shoulders? Ron has the best kind of build; slim waist and broad shoulders without looking burly. Please don’t tell Charlie I said that.”

“Tall and handsome, just like my Bill,” Fleur agreed, Hermione giving an annoyed groan that did nothing to stop the French witch from elaborating, “but I say, Ron’s arms and hands are ze best thing about him. Of course, I hate he got zis scars in ze first place, but I think zey accentuate his arms and big hands rather nicely.”

“Well, Fleur. That surprises no one, I think.” Harry said, joining the conversation for the first time since Ron listened in. 

“Don’t even encourage this, Harry,” Hermione whined, “How could find it not weird we lust over your best friend?” 

Ron knew full well that Harry would tease Hermione, and probably him too, forever about this, so Harry’s next words weren’t too surprising. 

“Well, actually…if I would play for the other team,” Harry obviously made a point to make a meaningful pause here, and Ron really, really wished he could see Hermione’s face right now, “…I mean, if we approach this in a logical manner…I have a thing for red-heads after all.”

The next outburst of laughter, surely about Hermione’s expression, sent Crookshanks in a frenzy for real now, and the bloody cat let out a loud wail and wriggled out of Ron’s arms, scratching the side of Ron’s neck before jumping down over his shoulder. 

If not for Crookshanks loud entrance into the kitchen (why he would bolt towards the noise that scared him was beyond Ron’s understanding), Ron’s colourful cursing tipped off the others about his presence. 

Well aware he had been caught, Ron followed Hermione’s cat into the kitchen, red-eared and shyly waving at everyone. “Hello…”

Before he could offer some kind of explanation, a furiously blushing Hermione jumped up from her seat, bolted towards Ron and without another word, took his hand and dragged him off towards the stairs. “Make sure to take good care of this new scratch on his neck, Hermione!” Audrey shouted after them, accompanied by the other’s laughter. 

With a loud bang, their bedroom door shut, and Hermione immediately pressed Ron against it, showering him with kisses and roaming hands. Slightly puzzled but equally enthusiastic, Ron took Hermione’s face into his hands, deepening the kiss and enjoying the feeling of her body pressed up against his. As they finally came up for air, Hermione nudged him towards their bed, but Ron didn’t move from his place by the door. 

“Hermione, you know they just said that to take the mickey, right?” Ron grinned at her and gave her a wink, “Riling you up is apparently not just my favourite past time.”

“You think they only said that to rile me up?” Hermione raised a questioning eyebrow as she took his hand and resumed her mission to get him into the direction of the bed. “

This time he complied, Hermione lying down onto the soft mattress and tugging on Ron’s belt, making him fall right on top of her. “Of course, you would think that,” Hermione whispered. 

“Think what?”

“That the others just said that to rile me up.” Hermione answered, her hands slowly roaming up and down Ron’s back, “I don’t get possessive over nothing, you know.”

“If…you…say…so,” Ron murmured between the kisses he placed on her neck. He paused his trail towards that special place behind Hermione’s ear to look at her with an awfully smug smile. “I did not plan to wear them again, but I’ll gladly dig those old jeans out of the wardrobe. You know, for the sake of making you happy…and also probably Angelina.”

“Shut up and charm the door!” she said as Hermione let her hands wander over his jeans-clad arse, silently marvelling about its firmness. 

As her hands and mouth wandered over his shoulders, his arms and his scars, and as his hands cupped her face and his blue eyes looked down at her with an expression that always spoke directly to her heart, she decided that every part of Ron was her favourite part.  

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Sink Or Swim

tag list: @cleocc @feeling-kinda-so-so @hopelessromanticvirgo @dreamy-slytherin @adora8 @lockerfivethreefive @painfully-oblivious @poeticinemaa @jjustonemorething @saraben00 @wedarkacademia @coolguyssyndrome @hischbabe @suckerforsobbe @tayspots @starmansander @theah0lt @zoenneforever @invisibleme @chibibanane

~^~

Sunday, 13:43

Song: Jeremy Zucker, Chelsea Cutler - better off

Jens reads over the text message again as he sits on the bench and waits. He rubs his spare hand over his knee, trying to ease the itch under his skin.

Jana: can we meet up? I really need to talk to you

Despite how much he doesn’t want to have this conversation, he knows it’s necessary. That’s why it had only taken him a few minutes to say yes. He isn’t sure why he’s psyching himself out so much. He supposes he and Jana just don’t have the best history with serious conversations, and he has no idea what to expect from this one.

He’s sitting on a bench at the edge of the park, waiting. Jana is only a few minutes late, but it’s prolonging his anxiety and leaving his foot tapping against the pavement. He wishes he’d denied the offer, saying he had other plans.

Only, he did have other plans.

His eyes widen as the realisation hits and he checks his phone again.

He had other plans, that he was supposed to attend to over half an hour ago. He curses under his breath as he navigates to his messages, and surely enough there are a few from Lucas. Saying that he’s there, waiting, asking where Jens is, asking if he’s okay, asking if he was coming or not. The chat with Jana had been open the whole time, and Jens hadn’t even gotten the notifications. He curses under his breath and quickly tries to think of a reply, heart speeding away and hands shaking.

I’m so fucking sorry Luc, Jana asked to meet up and I completely forgot

I won’t be able to make it

He stares, and waits, and the message remains delivered and unseen. The last message from Lucas was only about five minutes ago, and Jens realises he’s probably given up and gone home. He drags a hand over his face and he grips the phone tightly, barely preventing himself from tossing it into the street. He’s in disbelief at himself, more than any anger, disappointed and upset and frustrated and he feels so stupid.

Lucas, Lucas, how could he forget Lucas?

He knows how. It’s because he’d been distracted all morning, listening to his father rant about and insult his boss (who is at least a decade younger), complaining that he ‘can’t believe anyone would raise their son to be such a ‘pansy’. It’s because his father had turned to him and expected him to agree, waving his hands about as if to say ‘you know exactly what I mean’, and Jens had wanted to tell him that no, in fact, he didn’t.

It’s because he’s begun to understand the ache in his chest in these particular moments and why exactly it’s there.

It’s also because Jana had texted him, then, asking to meet, and despite how painful the conversation is likely to be, Jens had wanted nothing more than to see her and feel some sense of normal and comfort.

It’s because he might have forgotten Lucas on purpose.

Jana finds him like that, hunched over in a panic, still staring at his phone, startling as she sets a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” she appeases. “You okay?”

Jens quickly pockets his phone and lets out a slow breath, nodding. “Yeah, sorry. Was starting to think you’d ditched me, is all.”

Jana smiles, and it isn’t tense, and it eases Jens’s worries a little. “It was tempting,” she admits.

They regard each other for a moment, and even though it’s been two years, Jens almost feels like he’s been portaled back. He can recall them in this same scenario, too many times before, and it certainly doesn’t begin to make him feel better.

But Jana sits down next to him, and bumps his shoulder, and smiles. “Don’t look so scared. I’m not going to try to kiss you again.”

Jens huffs and tries to hide some of his relief. “Well you have to admit it’s a legitimate concern.”

Jana bumps him again, rolling her eyes. She’s avoiding his gaze now, looking out in front of her and making it impossible for Jens to guess where this is going to go.

“Hey,” Jens prods gently. “You can talk to me, huh?”

She offers him a small smile. “I really wasn’t planning on kissing you. I know we’ve talked before about if we still had feelings and agreed we wouldn’t go back there. And that still isn’t my intention.” She takes a long breath. “But I do have something to tell you.”

Jens clasps his hands together in his lap, pressing in and out on his knuckles. “Okay.”

“Do you remember, in the summer, when I said I was supposed to be moving to New York?”

No.

Jens nods slowly.

“Well, they’ve only just sorted out mom’s transfer. I’m leaving in a week.”

Jens’s heart falls into his stomach and he can only look at her. He’d thought, when it was first brought up, that he’d made his peace with the idea. But then school had restarted, and Jana was still there to join them, and all worries of the matter had disappeared. Now it feels like a bomb being dropped all over again, while Jens feels unstable enough as it is.

“Jens?” Jana places a gentle hand on his arm.

Jens rubs his hands over his jeans. “What about school?”

“I have already made plans to transfer there. I was going to study online with them from the beginning of the year, but I worked it out so that I could spend it here.”

“So you knew it was still happening.”

“Yeah.” Jana’s voice is soft. “I’m really sorry, Jens. I know I should have told you earlier.”

She should have, but Jens understands why she hasn’t. He wouldn’t have liked having to break the news to her, if it was the other way around.

“No, I get it. I should be the one making sure you’re okay. It’s a lot. Does anyone else know yet?”

“I’ve told the girls. But only a couple of weeks ago. I told Amber not to tell Aaron, because I wanted to make sure I could tell you myself.”

Jens nods. “Does Robbe know?”

“No. I wouldn’t ask him to keep that from you. I think he’s been through enough of that.”

She hasn’t moved her hand from his arm. Jens looks down at it and wonders why he doesn’t feel more, even though he already feels too much. His feelings and his thoughts are all a mess, but that no longer seems unusual.

“Why did you kiss me then? Was it like...a goodbye?”

Jana shrugs, and her smile returns, though a little rueful. “A bit, I guess. I was thinking about having to tell you, and I knew I was going to miss you and I wanted to spend that little bit of time just being us again. Then I felt like I needed to make sure it was really done. That we couldn’t go back there, and I wasn’t making a big mistake leaving and letting that go.”

“And you were a bit tipsy.”

Jana rolls here eyes, but laughs. “A bit.”

“But now? You don’t feel like you’re making any mistakes?”

“Of course I’m going to miss you all. I would stay if it was just my choice. I just didn’t want to leave behind any what-ifs.”

Jens nods. He understands, beyond the fuzz occupying his head. He knows what she means, and he’s now glad of it, too. He probably would’ve wondered, as well. He thinks the idea of what they could have been will always lie between them, but it would have been much worse if they’d let the idea linger with Jana leaving. He understands, because after that kiss, he no longer wonders over his feelings for Jana, either.

“This kind of sucks,” he says. “I’m gonna miss you.”

She smiles softly. “I know. But we’ll still stay in contact, yeah? And I will visit.”

“As long as you don’t forget about me.”

She scoffs. “You’re more likely to forget about me, with all your new friends.”

Jens would love to respond to the teasing with a smart comeback, but instead there’s a sharp pain in his chest with the realisation his phone hasn’t buzzed. “Yeah, well, they might not be around for long either.”

“What?” Jana’s brow furrows. “Lucas? What’s happened?”

“I was supposed to meet him at one and I completely forgot. I sent him a message to apologise and he hasn’t messaged me back.” He feels almost ridiculous admitting it. He feels ridiculously upset that he thinks he can see a pattern.

Jana’s expression turns sympathetic. “Fuck, was that my fault? I’m sure he’ll understand when you tell him that. You can be quite good at apologies when you want to be.”

Jens snorts. “You mean when I apologise.”

“It’s always worth it,” she informs him. “Really, why were you so bummed about this, huh? Lucas isn’t going anywhere.”

“What? Like you, you mean?” Jens mumbles. Then he closes his eyes. “Sorry. I know it isn’t your fault.”

“No, but you’re allowed to be upset.” Jana squeezes his arm. When Jens doesn’t answer, she takes a moment to examine him. Then she’s asking, “You really like him, don’t you?”

Jens whips his head around to stare at her. “What?”

“Lucas. He’s only been here a couple of weeks, but you get along really well, right? He’s already like one of your best friends.”

Oh.

Of course that’s what she meant, he reminds himself. There’s no way for her to know. There’s no way for anyone to know.

For a few seconds, Jens considers telling her. It would only take three words.

I like him.

Instead he says, “Yeah. He is. It’s just that...Robbe’s super busy now. He always had other things going on before, but then he usually came to me to get away from them. Now he doesn’t need to. Aaron is always with Amber or talking about Amber. Moyo is working or dancing or whatever it is he does. Lucas...Lucas feels most like my friend.”

Jens is ready to backtrack, say ‘no, that was weird’, but Jana is already nodding and the smile on her face is a little too soft. A little too understanding. “I can see that. And when he’s that important to you, you’re not just going to let him slip away because of one dumbass mistake. That’s not you.”

It feels good, to think she’s right, even if he doesn’t entirely believe it. Jana has always seemed to know him better than himself, however—at least, when she wasn’t doubting him all the time. Her having this little bit of faith in him, it does help. He decides he can probably trust her a little bit.

“Lucas isn’t you, though,” Jens reminds her. “He’s important, but he doesn’t cancel you out. I am going to miss you.”

She smiles, and it’s a little sad, and she gives his arm another squeeze. “Me too.”

“It’s still nice. Just being with you. I’m going to miss that.”

“Just not like that anymore,” she shrugs, her gaze soft.

Jens wraps his arm around her shoulders and leans back against the bench, hugging her to his chest. She winds her arms around his stomach and rests her head on his shoulder and Jens presses a kiss to the top of her head. “No,” he agrees. “Not like that anymore.”

[thewayshedreamed]

Side Bar

An Elriel fic

This fic is set in the “This Time” Nessian AU— Starting with Elain’s birthday party from Part 3. Here’s the back story of those texts that haunted Elain, how the conversation with Azriel went, and mention of the eventual date that Nesta interrupted in Part 6 😉

You can catch up on This Time here!

A/N: It only took an eternity for me to finish this chapter. It’s the first thing I’ve posted that’s Elriel-centric, so I found myself deleting/re-writing to try and get it right. Eventually, I had to cut myself off and just put myself out there, so I hope y’all like how I’ve written them! Shoutout to @keshavomit and @acourtofmarauders whose comments inspired me to share this!!

——————————————————————————

Once Nesta dropped her off at her apartment post birthday breakfast, Elain drew herself a hot bubble bath. She hoped the warm water would ease her achy muscles and her unsteady nerves; both from the night before. It wasn’t that she had completely blacked out. She remembered the majority of the night, with only the time after her body started to succumb to exhaustion being a little fuzzy.

She lay back onto the back of the tub, taking a deep breath of eucalyptus scented bubbles and easing her eyes closed. She couldn’t help but reflect over the night, heart swelling with love for her family and friends who had truly made her 23rd birthday one to remember. It was increasingly rare that every one of them were able to get together on the same night, and she was feeling extra loved that they made it out just for her.

She had a few laughs to herself as the memories ran through her mind. She thought of her and Feyre dancing for hours, being joined by the others on and off throughout the night. Cassian grabbing her hand when Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” came through the speakers, spinning her around and singing loudly with her. Her friends keeping her drinks full and making her laugh. Being so excited that Nesta finally joined them for a couple of songs. Spinning into Azriel accidentally and hearing his deep laugh as he steadied her.

And just like that, her thoughts hanged on Azriel; like they always seemed to. She was no moron. She knew they had a natural sort of chemistry, but she always struggled to tell if he truly saw her that way or if he would ever be open to her. She was struck with a memory of him from the night before, something that hadn’t come back to her until now.

——————————————————————————

Somehow, she had ended up near the edge of the dance floor, semi-cornered near a table by Grayson. She remembered being so annoyed that he’d been there and even more annoyed that he was insisting on polite conversation. She wanted to yell at him that she knew he didn’t give a shit how she was doing and that he had no right to know after he’d wrecked her heart a couple of years prior. She wanted to swat at his hands when he would laugh and playfully touch her or reach for her. The alcohol in her system was begging her to do all of it, and she was almost completely convinced. Just one more touch or one more attempt at familiarity, and it was game over. She steeled herself, waiting, until a pair of arms wrapped gently around her waist from behind.

“There you are, love.” Azriel’s smooth, deep voice ran over her, and she relaxed immediately.

He was closer than usual, more affectionate. She realized the show they were supposed to be putting on, and she leaned into him. She rested her head back on his chest, and turned her chin way up to look into his face. He was looking down at her, mere inches away, with amusement sparkling in his hazel eyes.

“Hey,” she breathed, lamely, if she was being honest with herself. She felt the impression of cool glass in her hand and looked down.

”Sorry it took me so long to grab your drink. The bar was really backed up.”

She looked down at the half-empty glass in her hand. Definitely his existing drink. She decided to give him a little hell. Why not? They were pretending, anyway.

“Babe. It’s half-empty,” she pointed out through a laugh.

He narrowed his eyes at her playfully, telling her he knew she was being difficult. “I may or may not have gotten thirsty on my way back to find you.”

“Az, you remember Grayson.” She gestured toward her ex as she spoke. When he looked up, she noticed the tension in his jaw.

“Of course. How are you, man?” He released her waist with one hand, extending it toward Grayson. Grayson only looked at it, ignored it completely, and addressed Elain.

”Really? This guy? You’re better than that.” She felt Azriel tense behind her. Grayson gripped her upper arm, pulling her toward him. “You can’t be fucking serious, Elain. Guys like him are good for one thing. Maybe you can have a few good rolls around in the sheets, but you can’t honestly expect to settle down with a guy like him.”

All too quickly, Azriel’s large hand gripped Grayson’s wrist where he was holding Elain’s arm. There was a layer of darkness to his tone that Elain had never heard.

“Get your fucking hand off of her. Now.” He gripped Grayson harder in warning, but Grayson’s eyes stayed on Elain’s.

“Elain, come on,” Grayson said.

She was fuming. His company had been unwelcome from the beginning. He’d been far too comfortable entering her personal space. He had openly insulted Azriel on multiple levels. He was manhandling her. The words left her before she could stop them, the alcohol delighting that it finally got its way.

“Even if you’re right, he’s the best fuck I’ve ever had and has ruined me for anyone else. So allow me to indulge myself for as long as I feel like it,” she seethed.

Grayson’s eyes widened and quickly narrowed in anger. Nevertheless, his grip on her arm softened, and Azriel shoved his arm back toward his body. He shook his head and walked away, totally speechless.

“You okay, Ellie?” Azriel was in front of her now, looking down into her face. He was running the back of his fingers up and down her arms, and she cursed the goosebumps that erupted over her skin.

“Yeah. I really am. Thank you for coming over. You didn’t have to do that,” she said. She glanced up at him and watched his features soften when he realized she was serious. Shortly thereafter, he started laughing.

“Elain, you can’t just go around saying things like that about me. Word will travel, and I may not live up to people’s expectations,” he joked.

She groaned, feeling guilty that she had completed objectified him without his consent. She leaned into him, resting her forehead on his chest for a couple of seconds before looking at him again.

“I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know what got into me. I just felt like humbling him a little, and I didn’t like how he was talking about you.”

Azriel laughed as he pulled her into a hug, his forearm braced around her neck.

“No apologies, Ellie. Come on. I owe you a drink; you know, a fresh one.”

——————————————————————————

Elain’s eyes popped open, and despite the heat of the bath water, she felt herself flush further at the memory. He hadn’t seemed bothered, but holy shit. Who would take it upon themselves to call someone “the best fuck they’ve ever had” when they’d never so much as hugged long enough to be considered intimate? Gods above.

She was obsessively thinking about her deleted messages again. She grabbed her phone off the side of the tub, hoping that when she opened her messages app, all of her texts would magically reappear. They didn’t, just as they hadn’t the other 15 times she’d done it that day.

She removed the plug from the bathtub, letting the water out and begging it to take all her memories along with it. She toweled off, put her lazy Sunday clothes on, and padded out of the bathroom.

She was startled by her phone ringing and dragging her back to the present. To her absolute horror, Azriel’s name flashed on her screen.

She steadied herself before she answered. She was glad to hear that her voice sounded as if she were a perfectly stable person.

“Hello?”

”Hey, Ellie. How you feeling today?” he teased.

Hungover. Fucking mortified.

”About how you would imagine,” she laughed. “What’s up?”

”I wanted to check in on you. And I wanted to see when you would have some free time to meet up. I still have your gift,” he explained.

Of course he’d gotten her a gift. Because he was wonderful. And she’d treated him like a glorified escort. She answered him before she lost her nerve.

”Oh. You didn’t have to do that, Az,” she paused. “What about now? You could come by?”

It took him a couple of seconds to respond. “Um, sure. Yeah. You know, it doesn’t have to be today, though. I didn’t mean to impose or anything.”

Shit. Was she too eager? To hell with it if she was. Waiting would kill her.

”You’re not! Really. I’m just being a bum on my couch today. I’d like the company,” she replied.

——————————————————————————

After about thirty minutes, Elain was convinced she was being stood up. Maybe he didn’t have the heart to tell her he wasn’t wanting to see her today. She was about to draft a text to him before she heard his knock on her apartment door.

“Come in!” she called. She had unlocked her door during her fitful pacing minutes ago.

He poked his head in before opening the door and stepping inside. The sunshine flowed into the apartment behind him, and for a second, she was almost convinced that he was superhuman. His dark hair was damp and brushed haphazardly to the side, and she couldn’t help thinking about how unfairly attractive he was. He was wearing a black v-neck with black jogger sweats, and his scent of cedar and mist washed over her as he plopped on her couch.

“You look way too alive and well today. Seems a little unfair,” she pouted.

He breathed a laugh as he turned toward her. “Some of us drank water throughout the night, birthday girl,” he teased as he tapped her nose with his index finger.

“Hey!” she exclaimed in faux annoyance. “I drank water. Maybe it was today, but I did.”

He tapped her knee with his hand, and she swore she felt it throughout her entire body.

”I’ll be nice. I’m here bearing gifts, after all,” he replied.

She thought back to the night before. The memory of their bit with Grayson, her deleted texts. She thought of Nesta’s words of advice that morning to ask him about the only remaining text she had: his reply. It was now or never, she supposed.

”Before you give me my present...” She bit her lip. “...can I talk to you?”

She watched his eyes land on her lips and jump immediately to her meet her stare. His brows furrowed in concern.

“Of course, Ellie. About anything. You okay?” His words, so similar to those he asked her last night, flooded her nerves all over again.

“I woke up this morning to a really confusing text from you. Not that what you said is confusing necessarily, but apparently, I deleted all of my texts last night. I must have done it right before you responded, so I have zero context to our conversation.” She could feel the heat of her blush on her chest, her neck, her face. She wanted to be literally anywhere else. She showed him the text for frame of reference.

Azriel: 😂 Not cool. You had me worried there for a minute, Ellie. Goodnight. Hope you enjoyed your birthday.

She watched his eyes scan the text, his lips spreading into a small smile. He wasn’t speaking soon enough for her liking.

”Oh. That. We had been texting a little at the table right before you left, but at some point between you standing to leave and getting home, you sent me this.” He scrolled through his phone until he landed on her message. He turned it to her so that she could read it for herself.

Ellie: I’m v mad at you Az

Another one, several minutes later.

Ellie: Nvm talked to Nessie. We’re good. Night 😘

Cauldron, Elain. Kiss emoji, really?

The only other message was his response that she’d already shown him.

She shook her head. “I have no idea what that’s about. What was I saying before that?”

Now it was Azriel’s turn to blush, the tips of his ear turning a faint pink. “Oof. I don’t know if sober me feels as bold as the drunk me in those. I think I’ll just keep those tucked away.”

She blinked at him and his nerve to insinuate he was going to keep them from her.

“Azriel Spion. You better show me those texts.”

”Mm. Don’t think I will, Elain Archeron.” His blush spread to his cheeks.

She lunged for his phone, but he dodged her at the last second. He lifted it into the air out of her reach, her body sprawled across his lap. Elain with less adrenaline would have been mortified to find herself there, but this was critical information. She pushed herself back onto her knees, reaching for the phone in his outstretched hand. He evaded her yet again.

”Why are you so giant? For the love of the Mother, just let me see!” she exclaimed.

”No! It’s not my fault you deleted yours,” he retorted.

She knew she would never be able to overpower him, and he was too stubborn for her to talk him into giving in. She landed on torture, hoping it would work in her favor.

She stopped reaching for his phone and instead turned her hands to his torso. His position left his underarms wide open, and she took her chance, hoping he was ticklish. Otherwise, this would only be even more awkward than it already was.

To her absolute delight, Azriel yelped in surprise. He immediately snapped his arms to his sides as he tried, and failed, to hold back his loud laugh. He tried to move away or grip her hands, but doing so would mean he would have to shift his arms. His body wouldn’t allow it.

“Elain!” he bellowed. “Stop it. I said STOP.” He let out another loud belly laugh, and Elain fell a little bit harder at the sound. It was one of the most precious things she had ever seen. Azriel, who was always so reserved, so dry, letting out such a loud, deep laugh felt like an honor to witness.

”Not until you show me those texts! They’re just as much mine as there are yours!” She had to raise her voice over his laughter, the words coming out through laughter of her own.

“You didn’t keep yours,” he said through clenched teeth between laughs. “Not. My. Problem.”

She pushed her fingers in a little harder, and he yelped again, dissolving into laughter once more.

“Fine! Alright!” he yelled. “You win!”

He tossed his phone on the cushion behind her. She stopped immediately to retrieve it, leaving Azriel spent and gasping for breath next to her.

“You tiny, brutal woman,” he breathed, eyes locked on her.

She waved him off, scrolling up through his messages to the beginning of last night’s conversation. The first messages were mild enough. She thanked him for her birthday drink, for saving her from that conversation with Grayson, for humoring her with a slow dance despite the fact that he wasn’t one to dance much. His responses were polite and friendly, barely on the flirtatious side. She was about to toss his phone into his lap and call him dramatic before her eyes landed on a message that sent her pulse through the roof.

Ellie: That feels nice. Thank you 😊

A: Anything for the birthday girl.

Ellie: I mean, I can’t believe everyone hasn’t offered to play with my hair. Seems a little rude.

A: Very. I guess you’ll have to get new friends.

Ellie: Except you. You have to stay 💕

A: Like I said, anything for you.

She shot her gaze up to look at Azriel. He was watching her with the focus of a surgeon, scanning her face for any reaction. She was doing the same to him. She had a vague, fuzzy memory of sitting next to him in their booth for a portion of the night and assumed that’s when these had occurred. They had likely resorted to texting considering their friends’ nosiness. There were more messages, the time stamp about thirty minutes later.

Ellie: Stop being so nice to me. I’m going to fall in love with you.

A: Promise?

Ellie: 😅 Very funny. You’ve been warned.

The rest were the ones she’d already read about how she was mad at him, whatever that meant. She could hear her own heartbeat; feel her blood pressure in her gums. She knew her blush was at an embarrassing level, and she had to take a couple of deep breaths before she looked at him again. He was still looking at her, an almost pained expression on his face.

She cleared her throat. “So. Did you?”

”Did I what?”

”Stop being nice to me,” she murmured.

”No.”

She locked his phone and handed it back to him as she settled into the cushions. She wanted so badly to close the distance between them, but she knew she’d already pushed him beyond his comfort zone. His answer spoke volumes if she was interpreting him correctly, but she was terrified to find out. She decided to stay the course, keeping the focus on her deleted messages.

“I guess I should check in with Nes. Just to see what I was mad about,” she said quietly.

”I talked to her this morning,” he murmured.

Her eyes locked on his yet again.

”And are you going to tell me?”

”Do I have a choice? You’ll torture it out of me otherwise,” he joked. She was grateful for the laughter as a break in the tension. He cleared his throat.

“You told Nesta you were mad at her, too. When she asked why, you told her it was because she and I are such close friends,” he said. He glanced at her, giving her a chance to react.

“Why would I care about that now? I only know you because of your friendship.” She was so tired of being lost, of being the only one who didn’t know what was happening.

His voice remained quiet and even, as if speaking any louder may scare her away. “You told her it was because I would never look at you. Because you’re her little sister and I was considerate and wouldn’t want to make her mad.”

She swallowed thickly, hoping she looked more put together than she actually was. “And what did she say that made me so quick to drop it?”

That evoked a small laugh and the sound of it made her want to curl into him. “That I’m not scared of her in the slightest,” he began. “And that I was basically the only person she would find worth of you.” His blush deepened as he finished.

She nodded, processing his words. Her mouth was dry, and she was totally speechless. The distance between them was almost painful now, but she was so terrified to make him uncomfortable and potentially ruin their comfortable friendship.

He shifted on her couch, scooting a little closer to her. She was still facing him, her legs curled under her and her elbow settled on the back of the couch. She propped her head on her fist and fixed her gaze on his thigh, an inch away from her knees.

“When I told Nesta that I’d deleted my texts, she told me to talk to you. That you would be understanding.” She glanced up at him. “I basically bit her head off. But it’s because she knew without a doubt that you would understand, isn’t it?”

”She’s known for a long time how I feel, Ellie. Without me having to say a word.”

All she could do was nod. He shifted forward, turning his attention back to the reason he’d come over.

”Az, you really didn’t have to—“ he interrupted her my lifting a scarred finger.

”None of that. I wanted to, and I did.” He placed an envelope in her lap as he ran his hand through his damp hair.

She opened it, scanning small documents inside to figure out what he had gifted her. Two tickets to see the Velaris Philharmonic Orchestra. One of the first true conversations they’d had, she shared with him that she wanted to go one day. With the hustle and bustle of life and the expenses that came with it, she’d never gotten around to it.

True to her sensitive spirit, tears brimmed her lower eyelids. She was so touched that he remembered but simultaneously felt guilty that he’d spent so much on a gift for her.

“You can invite who you want to. I know Nesta has wanted to go, but you can bring a friend, too. I just wanted to make sure you had company. It didn’t feel right to give you a gift where you’d have to go alone.” Her heart melted at his rambling. Azriel never showed his nerves, and he had let that wall down for her several times today.

“Azriel.” She glanced at him, willing him to look at her again. His elbows were resting on his knees and he’d been staring straight ahead as he spoke. He finally turned his head toward her, his onyx hair brushing across his brow. She leaned forward, resting her chin on his shoulder as she took in his elegant bone structure.

“Thank you. I love it more than you know,” she whispered.

His eyes lit up at her words, and her chest squeezed at how much joy it brought him to make her happy. His eyes fell to her lips, and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she watched him wet his own. He brought a scarred hand up to cup her cheek and pulled her face even closer to his, using his thumb to pull her lip from her teeth. She gasped softly, and he pressed his full lips softly to hers. She leaned into him, letting out a small whimper when his grip tightened slightly on her cheek.

Something shifted in him at hearing her whimper into his mouth, and he sat up to orient his body toward hers. He deepened the kiss, then hooked his hand behind her knee to pull her over his lap. She settled into him, moving her hips against his, and he let out a low groan as she moved.

She pulled back from his kiss to look at him, still a little in disbelief that this is where their day had taken them. She ran her fingers through his hair and watched as his eyes fluttered shut. He let out the most indecent moan, and it took everything she had not to slant her mouth over his again.

“What are you doing Thursday?” she asked.

His eyes popped open, still a little glazed over from the heat between them. His hands were under her sweater, thumbs tracing small circles over her ribs.

“No plans, why?”

”A very dear friend of mine gifted me two tickets to see the orchestra, and I’d really like to take you on a date, if that’s okay.”

He smiled at her, his eyes turning up at the corners as he looked at her. “I would say I feel bad for the guy, but there’s no way I’m missing that,” he replied, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. “I’ll be sure to pull out my best suit.”

Her returning smile was so broad, it almost hurt. “Perfect. I can’t wait,” she whispered as she started to rock her hips once more. His lips crashed into hers then, their conversation over for the time being.

Before she lost herself in him completely, she had one fleeting thought as she reflected over their earlier words. “So, did you?”— “Did I what?”— “Stop being nice to me.”— “No.”

It looked like he was hell bent on keeping it that way, and she knew she was beyond screwed.

She was already in love with Azriel Spion, and even still, he was never going to stop being nice to her.

——————————————————————————

Well, there it is! A brief timeline note: Nesta’s phone call falls on that Thursday, during their post-date sleepover. I hope y’all enjoyed it!

Tags (This Time taglist + masterlist):

@polireader // @lord-douglas-the-third // @justgiu12 // @notyournymphetish // @sjm-things // @strangeenemy // @iammissstark // @keshavomit // @sjmships // @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks // @dusty-lightbulb // @texas-shaped-waffle-maker // @julemmaes // @charincharge // @superspiritfestival // @awesomelena555 // @sleeping-and-books // @hizqueen4life // @maastrash // @bookstantrash // @rhyswhitethorn // @grace-k-sterling // @sayosdreams // @sis-it-dont-add-up // @b00kworm // @courtofjurdan // @sannelovesreading // @acourtofmarauders // @candice-dick-fit-in-your-mouth // @gisellefigue08 // @girl-who-reads-the-books

[theasstour]

𝓡𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓸 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓙𝓾𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓽 𝓫𝔂 𝓗𝓪𝓴𝓸𝓷 𝓢𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓲𝓭𝓮

𝓯𝓲𝓬 𝓹𝓪𝓰𝓮 | 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 10.8k 𝓝𝓑: 𝓮𝔁𝓹𝓵𝓲𝓬𝓲𝓽 𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓪𝓰𝓮, 𝓼𝓮𝔁𝓾𝓪𝓵 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽

A/N: biggest thanks to @shepherald for being bb’s italian auntie!

Sunday, 11 August 2019

The only light came from the abundance of various candles Harry had spread all over his loft. After countless hours of them chatting, getting to know each other, and laying in silence, Y/N had come to realise Harry preferred candlelight to electricity. When she questioned him about it, he had simply just cocked his head to the side, studied her for a few seconds, and said, “There is freedom in not being revealed everything to. In art it lets your imagination wander, ‘cause not being told everything means you have to figure it out on your own. There are untold stories and secrets in the shadows on a canvas.”

Y/N had only laughed at him, to which Harry had just looked at her, demanding an explanation to her outburst.

“You don’t like the dark,” she had reasoned. “How can you say secrets lay in the shadows when you’re afraid of the dark? Why do you paint it?”

Harry had looked at her, studying her intently before he said, “I’m not so afraid of walking in the dark anymore.”

Y/N had thought about that answer for a few days now. Though people could learn to get rid of their phobias and the like, it was unusual to rid oneself of one so fast. Harry had leaned into water just a few days after confessing to her he didn’t like it because he couldn’t see the bottom and where he was walking, and now he told her he liked the dark parts of a canvas because of the possibilities they held. It was weird to her, but she liked the fact he was defying his fears. She was proud of him.

But right that second when she started thinking of this again, Y/N was laid on the floor of Harry’s loft. Night surrounded them, all the windows and the doors leading out to the balcony were open, filling the house with the humid yet refreshing air of the summer evening. Her eyes were on Harry as he stood above her, biting her lip as her mind started wandering again.

She had been laying in bed when he had called her name. The two had spent all day in his house, doing nothing but talk, fuck, and soak up in the little time they had left like this. Next Sunday she wouldn’t be there. Next Sunday, she’d be at home in Maldon, packing up her stuff to go back down to London and to her last year of University. But neither wanted to think about that, they’d rather relish in this time they had together. But Y/N had been laying in Harry’s bed, about to get back to Portia on a text she’d received earlier that day when Harry called her. She’d been a bit surprised at first. After all, he’d told her, he needed to actually do some work today and not only spend his sweet time between her legs (“Though I very much want to do just that,” he’d mumbled). It had been about an hour when she heard her name, so she put her phone aside and stepped into her summer dress. When she reached the loft, Harry had been standing by the balcony door, looking out over the landscape. He was wearing his white overalls, the top half tied so low on his waist she could make out the beginnings of his bum. And when he turned around, the dark trail of hair leading downwards was also very much visible, contrasting drastically with the light colour of the paint-splotched overalls.

“What’s going on?” she’d asked.

“Nothing,” he simply replied. “Just want you here.”

She hadn’t been able to contain her smile, and at the sight of hers, he smiled back. He was about to turn to the canvas he’d placed on the easel outside on the balcony when he stopped himself. His eyes landed on her again, trailing her form.

“Lay down.”

She furrowed her brows, looking at the floor of the loft. “Where?”

Harry walked over to one of the cabinets and brought out what must’ve once been used as a huge curtain. It was white and seemingly very old; dust having greyed it with time. He placed it on the ground for her motioning with his hand for her to lay down on that. She was about to when he interrupted her movements with a low, “Take off your dress.”

She’d stopped in her tracks, feeling her heart beat a little faster and a tingle of excitement all over her body. But she didn’t hesitate. Reaching for the bottom of her dress, she dragged it upwards till she revealed herself completely to him. Harry didn’t say a word, just watched her like he was in a trance, not able to look away. She felt so powerful when he looked at her like that. It made her believe she was the ruler of something, like she possessed some sort of prestige and grace no one else in the world would ever have or had ever before her or after her. She laid down on the floor, looking up at him for further instructions.

“On your back, baby.” He said, voice filled with a sort of affection and demand that could make her do anything.

She laid on her back and Harry came over, down on his knees before Y/N and reaching for her again. He took a light grip of her right thigh, moving it till her leg was bent and knee resting in front of her other, her foot hooked behind her calf. He then moved on to her arms, trailing a hand up her front and between her breast as he shifted his attention.

“Teasing.” She giggled, making Harry grin.

Harry took both a hold of both her wrists, pinning them above her head, leaning down till his lips were hovering above hers. “It’s not teasing if I follow through later, is it?”

“That’s later, not now.”

Harry giggled, kissing her lips, cheek, jaw. “You haven’t had enough of me?”

“I could never.” She said, letting go of a deep breath as his hands tightened around her wrists, smiling. “What about me?”

“What about you?” he mumbled against her skin, nibbling at her neck.

“Have you had enough of me? Since you asked the question first and all.”

Harry huffed, moving up so his lips were above hers, placing her hands like he wanted them without breaking eye contact. “I’m the one asking you to undress. So no, I won’t ever get enough of you.”

He left her laying there, getting up and fetching his easel again along with a new canvas. He placed them exactly where he wanted them before he walked off to get his paint, brushes and palette. He pressed soma paint out of some tubes and Y/N furrowed her brows, they looked different from the small tubes he usually used.

“Trying a new sort?” she asked, not being able to help herself.

Harry brought all the paint over, along with a cloth, a glass of water, and his palette. Only he didn’t place all his stuff beside his easel, but rather on the floor next to Y/N. He sat down beside her, dabbing his brush into some dark blue before he started painting away on the bent leg, on her thigh.

“I’m a canvas now?”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head at her. “Got an idea.”

“Mind sharing it?”

“I’m sharing it right now, ain’t I?”

“How?”

“By showing you my painting.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’re painting on me, I think I need a better explanation than that.”

Harry smiled, dipping his brush in more paint before returning to her thigh, painting in what looked like half circles up her thigh. He let the brush rest in water for a few seconds before he wiped it, swirled it on his hand, and dipped it back in a lighter blue. He did the same with this one, paying very close attention to each of his movements.

“You aren’t using your regular paint.”

“You noticed?” He almost seemed a little shocked she knew his brands and routines.

“Of course.”

He glanced up at her, giving her a small smile before returning his attention to her thigh. “This is acrylic paint.”

Y/N waited for more, and when he kept his mouth shut, she urged, “Yeah?”

“It dries quicker.”

“Quicker than oil paint?”

“Way quicker. 20 minutes, 30 tops. Oil takes hours.”

“Yeah,” Y/N said. “I remember you telling me that.”

Harry huffed a short laugh, dipping the brush in more paint and detailing a bit more before he moved positions. He came to sit further up her body, getting some more paint on his paintbrush before he started drawing on her stomach. Y/N was suddenly very aware of how her stomach looked laying like this, how soft it was. Harry started painting in a hypnotising circle of sorts. Circles that focused in on the spot right in the middle of her torso, one single vein reaching out and wrapping around her left ribcage. He did the same with the blue, outlining the lighter colour.

“Will you ever forgive me for how I mistreated you?” Harry asked, voice ever so tender. He sounded scared, as if he was horrified by what the answer might be.

“I won’t forgive you for making me uncomfortable when we first met.”

Harry looked up at her. “How did I make you uncomfortable?”

She clicked her tongue, glancing away from him.

“Y/N.”

“You don’t remember?”

“What did I do?”

Their eyes met again. “You asked me if the dress would fit.”

Harry stopped painting, furrowing his brows a little.

“I didn’t like that.”

Harry put the brush in the water before glancing back at her. “I was just asking to be sure it would, if not I would’ve had Jamie contact a costume designer and had another dress made.”

She sighed. “It’s… more than a dress, Harry.”

“Great. Tell me what it is, then.” He asked, about to place a hand on her thigh when he realised it was covered in paint. “Talk to me.”

“You don’t understand how awful it is to be reminded by people – people you don’t even know – that you’re bigger. It doesn’t even have to be a rude comment, it can just be a ‘Will it fit’ and someone’s confidence can come crumbling down. People who haven’t had problems like that don’t get it.” Y/N explained, sighing. “That I’ll never fit into my partner’s clothes ‘cause I’ll always be bigger than them, or how if I buy a shirt in a size small for a present for a mate the cashier will look at me like ‘you sure about this’. It just sucks to be reminded, and I don’t want people to think that because of my body I’m lesser than them. That they can talk to me in a disrespectful tone because of how I look.”

Harry frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, but I won’t forgive you for making me feel uncomfortable. And I’ll never forgive people who think they’re better than someone who doesn’t see fat people, POC, LGBT, or anyone else, as their equal.”

Harry nodded. “Good, you shouldn’t.”

She smiled a little.

“I’ll never make you feel uncomfortable again. I promise.”

She nodded. “I know.”

Harry smiled back at her, reaching for his brush and dipping it in a lighter colour before doing the same he’d done with the paint previous. He followed the swirl, tilting his head as he focused on her, covering her in dark to light blue. The swirls almost reminded Y/N of Van Gogh’s Starry Night. She knew Harry admired the Dutch painter a whole deal, he’d told her as much during one of those long and deep conversations the two of them had shared. But she really saw it now. All from the calf and all the way up her body, up her arms, neck, breasts, tummy; it was all covered in shades of blue. The circle came to focus on a round form in the middle of her torso. It seemed to be glowing in different hues of gold, like some sort of life force. And the little vein that had escaped the swirling storm surrounding the gold blob, was a similar yet smaller swirl of pink. Harry continued to paint on her, the two just staying there in silence, letting Harry paint out the image inside his head. It wasn’t till her leg, torso, and arms were almost completely covered in paint that Y/N spoke.

“What’s the inspiration behind this piece then?”

“Adoration.” Harry answered, not even batting an eye.

Y/N didn’t know what that meant, something Harry understood by her silence. He dragged the brush over her tummy, stopping as he reached the circle of gold in the middle.

“The parts of you I adore.”

He took her breath away, he truly did. The cold and closed man she’d met earlier that summer was gone completely. Before her sat the most tender, most open, most beautiful person she’d ever met. It startled her how much a person could change in a matter of a bit over a month. Or was this the person Harry had been before everything with Salvatore? To be frank, she didn’t particularly care. As long as Harry was as happy now as she was, and as long as he felt the same way she did, as long as he got to live his life the way he wanted to, she didn’t care about the person he’d been before this. He was happier now than she’d ever seen him, and that was all she cared about.

She never cried. If there was one thing she rarely did, it was let something get to her to such an extent that it took over all her emotions. But something about Harry taking two hours to merely paint on her naked body in detail, something about him paying such close attention to her and painting the parts of her he adored the most, it got her feeling something she never had before. No one had made her feel this important.

Though she tried to be as quiet as possible and not make loads of noise, Harry heard her sniffles. He looked up at her, a concerned furrow to his brows. “You alright? Am I stepping over a line-“

“-No, no, no, you’re alright. You’re great.” She assured him, afraid to move her arm and wipe a tear away in case she ruined his painting.

He seemed to know her predicament however, because he reached up and wiped her tears away, one at a time. “Then what is it? What’s wrong?” He stroked his fingers over her cheek. “Don’t cry, my love. Please.”

She couldn’t help the sob that rocked through her body, and she managed a small smile with a wobbling bottom lip. “It’s just it took me years and years to accept my body and to respect myself enough not to put myself down every single day over how I looked, how I was fat, how everyone was thinner and prettier than me.” Her smile widened as Harry wiped yet another tear away. “And here you are, doing it so quickly and without hesitation.”

Harry took a grip of his brush again, dipping into the gold yellow before looking into her eyes again. “It’s easier to be critical of yourself than of someone else. You can be your own worst enemy.”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

He let his eyes wander her body, taking in the painted areas and the areas he had left naked. She could tell by his stare that he hadn’t left some places free of paint because he didn’t adore those, but rather because painting her entire body would take too long. Also, painting some areas would not be very ideal. He inhaled, bringing his brush to her tummy. “I could never paint you. Could never do you justice in any way. I’ll try. I’ll fucking try till the day I die, but…” he circled the gold with the last layer of paint. “But I won’t ever be able to capture your beauty fully. No painting could ever do you justice. Art is beyond you. This…” he put the brush in the glass of water, outlining her body with his finger like he had done that time they had first woken up together. “There isn’t a word for this yet. Not a phrase powerful enough. I used to think paintings were fantastic ‘cause they told you more than a text ever could, but you’ve challenged that idea. You’re more powerful, more beautiful, more timeless than art. You’re more than everything.”

Y/N hadn’t known what people meant when they said they could remember the exact moment you fell in love with someone. She knew she was in love with Harry, knew she admired him beyond any comprehension. But looking back, Y/N knew this was the exact moment she started loving Harry. Hearing him say that, feeling his tender touch, being covered in his art, it all came together and created an emotion she was unsure she’d ever felt before.

“If you lay still, I’m gonna go paint you now, yeah?” Harry got up from the ground, bringing all his equipment with him. She just watched him, admiring how he lifted his white overalls further up his hips, and how they fell down a bit when he tied the arms around his waist again.

“My nose is itchy.”

“Don’t fucking-“ he was in front of her in a second, scratching her nose.

She laughed. “What are you doing?”

“You said your nose was itchy! I’m helping you out! No bloody way you’re ruining my paint.” He said, scratching still. “Alright?”

She smiled. “Yeah.”

“Brill.” He turned back to his canvas again, looking down at her. “Don’t move. I’ll be very mad.”

Giggling, she bit her bottom lip, watching as the tiniest of smiles stretched out over his lips as well. He dipped a new brushin some oil paint, took another look at her, and started painting. And watching him do exactly was he was born to do, what he did for a living, those three words echoed in the back of Y/N’s head. Like a soft chant that would be on repeat till the say she died. His name alone triggered the words; triggered her to say them and feel them and let them surround her. Harry, I love you, she thought, hoping he somehow could hear her or sense how she was feeling, but at the same time scared how he’d react if he didn’t feel the same way. Harry, I love you.

Tuesday, 13 August 2019

“Long time since I’ve seen your face.” Portia said as she appeared on Y/N’s phone screen. “How are you?”

Y/N nodded, looking down on Viola resting in her lap. “Good, a bit sunburnt. And you?”

“Alright, not very sunburnt. Haven’t seen the bloody sun in over a week.”

Y/N laughed. “How’s mum? Has she been looking after you since you got the casts off?”

“Yeah, she’s at my flat all the time now. It’s nice of her to be here and make sure I don’t fall and break both legs again, but that won’t happen when I’m laying in my sofa!” She shouted the last part, clearly hoping that Elaine, who was somewhere in Portia’s flat, would somehow hear and get the memo.

“Is she being a pest?”

“Babe, you have no fucking idea.” Portia hissed, looking over her shoulder to make sure their mother wouldn’t hear her. “She won’t leave me alone.”

“She’s just looking out for you, though.” Y/N reasoned, watching as Viola jumped down from her lap and walked over to sit in the windowsill by the open window.

“And I appreciate that, but I don’t want her around all the time. She does my head in.”

Y/N chuckled, getting up to make herself a glass of iced tea. “Mum’s always done your head in, that’s what it’s like being the favourite.”

“Oh, lay off, I’m not Mum’s favourite.”

“Is that Y/N, dear?” Elaine walked into the room and suddenly she was visible over Portia’s shoulder. “Hello, love!”

Y/N did a little wave. “Hiya.”

“Why are you spending a sunny day inside your flat?” Elaine asked, and Y/N instantly dreaded coming home to those kinds of questions constantly till she left for uni again.

Y/N sighed. “I’m talking to Portia, Mum. It’s a hassle having to FaceTime someone when you’re out and about.”

“Still, you should be outside.”

Y/N was about to say something when Portia interrupted her. “Y/N is outside all the time, Mum. She’s outside hours on end working with H. Styles, aren’t you, babe?”

It wasn’t often Portia stood up for Y/N. They both knew that their mother wouldn’t listen to reason unless Portia was the one delivering it. Which didn’t happen often, but moments like these, when Portia actually spoke up for Y/N when their Mother wouldn’t have it, it made Y/N appreciate her sister in a way nothing else could.

“Yeah,” Y/N answered, giving Portia a small smile only the sister knew what meant. Thank you. “I spend most of my days outside, don’t worry.”

“Hope you do, air is good for you.”

“So I’ve heard.” Y/N sighed, placing the camera on the kitchen counter as she made her iced tea.

“What’re you up to today?” Portia asked, wanting to steer the conversation in another direction.

She was about to tell them what she was actually going to do. About to tell them how Harry had promised to take her to La Spezia, the biggest town close to Fosdinovo. That they would most likely go to dinner there and he would drive them back to Fosdinovo so he could work some more on his paintings. But before that, he’d take her to bed and they’d get tangled in the sheets, sweat, whimpers, and each other. That she’d most likely spend the night with him. She didn’t tell them that. Didn’t tell them how close she and H. Styles had gotten. Didn’t tell them she loved him. Didn’t tell them she’d never felt as whole yet free as when she was with him.

“Y/N?”

“Huh?”

Portia raised her eyebrows. “You zoned out for a sec there.”

“Oh. Sorry.” She cleared her throat, mixing her iced tea. “I’m not doing much. Maybe taking a stroll through town, say hi to Rin, Meo, and Carina.”

“Carina is the one who got married, yeah?”

Elaine frowned. “Married?”

“I told you, Mum,” Portia said, looking over at Elaine. “Y/N went to that wedding and the bloke turned out to be a complete nutter. Anyway,” she glanced back at Y/N. “Did Carina ever leave him?”

“Think they’re signing the divorce papers soon. I’m glad she decided to leave him.”

Portia groaned, leaning her head against the back of the sofa. “You’ve given me more goss this summer than I could’ve hoped for. How dull it’s going to be getting back to work again.”

“Aren’t you looking forward to it?” Y/N asked, walking back over to her kitchen table.

“In a way, but it’s been very nice to have you do all the work for me.”

Y/N chuckled; Portia joined in. Her face suddenly grew very serious and she looked at something in her lap. Elaine got up and walked off, having chores to get to and Portia waited till their Mum was out of earshot before she spoke again.

“I never thanked you properly.”

“For what?”

“For doing this for me.” She glanced at Y/N again. “It’s meant heaps. You always do these things and I take it for granted.”

Y/N bit her bottom lip, stirring the metal straw around in the tea. “You do.”

“I’m sorry.” Portia sighed. “I don’t mean it.”

“I know you don’t.”

Portia gave Y/N a small smile. “Will you ever forgive me for it?”

“For…?”

“For treating you like shit. For expecting you to do things for me.”

Y/N smiled back at her, taking a long sip of her old tea. “Just please don’t do it again and we’ll be fine.”

“I promise.” Portia nodded, sounding relieved, as if she’d thought of this for a long while now. “I won’t send you off to Italy for an entire summer to work with a grumpy painter ever again.” She laughed, but Y/N had to force her own. If Portia had never gotten herself injured, then Y/N would never have met Harry; would never have fallen in love; would never have loved as foolishly and completely as she did now. But the summer was coming to a close. Would it all have been for nothing in the end? Would she have fallen in love only to be forced out of it?

“Y/N?”

“Huh?”

Portia huffed. “What’s with you today? You’re not paying attention.”

“Sorry,” Y/N shook her head. “Go on. What were you saying?”

Harry placed the brush in her hand, enclosing her fingers around it before he brought it to the canvas. Trying her best not to disappoint him, she bit her lip, leaning her head against Harry’s as she concentrated on the painting.

“That’s it.” He mumbled, guiding her hand.

“Is it okay?”

“Well, I’m steering your hand so I’m basically painting. It’s brilliant.”

She nudged his shoulder, giggling a little and Harry looked at her, smiling. The two were sat on a small piano bench outside, Harry’s easel before them and an almost white canvas placed neatly on it. Y/N was wearing one of the tee shirts she’d left at Harry’s over the week and Harry had put on his dungarees, the cool evening air a refreshing break from the suffocating heat of day. Since they’d come home and shared their first kiss of the day, night had surrounded them again, and they had shagged multiple times before making their way to the balcony upstairs. They were so desperate for one another that it took everything out of both of them to hold back till they got home, so when they were completely alone, they simply could not help themselves. It felt right being together like this, without filters, without apology; just them.

“Look,” Harry took the brush from her hand, dipping it in some more orange and running it over the canvas. “To paint a sunset, you start with the colours of the sky. What colours you think will fit best?”

“What’re we painting?”

Harry huffed a small chuckle. “A sunrise.”

“Orange and maybe even some yellow.” Y/N answered, tilting her head as she watched him fill the blankness with more colour. “Oh, and blue! But just a tad.”

“You’re imagining a very sunny morning then?”

“A sunny morning in Essex.” Y/N smiled, looking at him. “The most beautiful sight in the world, if I may say so.”

“Oh, is it?” he asked, putting the brush away and placing his hand on her thigh, turning to face her.

“Uh-huh.” Her smile widened some as he moved closer to her, brushing his nose gently against hers.

“I can think of more beautiful sights than a sunrise in bleeding Essex.”

She huffed, turning away from him to look at the painting. A slight noise of complaint left Harry’s throat and he put his finger to her chin, guiding her face till her lips were right in front of his. At the feel of his breath against her skin, all hairs on her body rose. She wanted to move closer to him, to kiss him, but she wanted to see what would happen if she held back. Harry had come to make the first move quite often since they started… whatever they’d started. But she quite liked it when he took control. He so rarely let himself have control over anything that wasn’t his profession. Though he seemed to take great pleasure in taking control of Y/N and them every once in a while. Y/N liked that very much.

“You haven’t seen one, how can you say that?” she inquired, raising her eyebrows to challenge him.

“Because an Essex sunrise would pale next to my standards of the most beautiful sights in the world.” Harry mumbled, rubbing his nose against hers as he closed his eyes.

She smiled. “Which is?”

He smiled too, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. It felt like touching silk, tasted like a lifetime, and Y/N couldn’t get enough of it. She leaned into him, breathing him in. It felt so familiar, so right. As he pulled away, pressing a kiss to her nose, they both opened their eyes at the same time. She bit her lip, resting her head on his shoulder as he turned back to the painting. He dipped the brush in some yellow, spreading it out over and just below the orange.

“Did I ever tell you about my dreams?” Harry asked suddenly.

“What dreams?”

“Those I’ve had of you.”

A tingling sensation, excitement mixed with confusion, filled Y/N’s chest and she sat upright, looking at him. “I’ve… been in your dreams?”

“Multiple times.”

There was something so intimate, Y/N remarked, about hearing of your visit into someone else’s mind and dreams. Knowing you’d somehow been on their mind and made it into their unconscious state was flattering in a way a mere compliment could never live up to. It was beyond that. Harry put more paint on the brush before he took her hand again, guiding her hand over the canvas.

“Elaborate, please.” Y/N pleaded, biting her lip as she could make out Harry looking at her in her peripheral vision.

Harry cleared his throat a little, clearly just figuring out what he’d gotten himself into. With a curiosity like Y/N’s, she would demand every single little detail. He wasn’t hesitant to give them all to her though, it was just a matter of putting words to moments in his head and dreams that he had otherwise, till now, kept to himself.

“Most of my paintings are born from dreams.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” he dipped the brush in more paint, letting her mix it with the orange on the page. “I get these moments in time, like watching something in slow motion almost.”

“They inspire you?”

“Yeah, it’s like a situation or a person inspire a songwriter to write a song.” Harry explained, letting go of her hand. “My dreams and… ultimately, you have inspired most of mine.”

She felt her cheeks heat up a bit. “Did you dream of me every time before a new painting?”

“Not in the beginning. I had most of them planned out.” He admitted, and though Y/N felt her heart sink a little at that, she still knew that she hadn’t been able to stand his person in the beginning as well. She couldn’t blame him. “But as time went on, you appeared in most of my dreams. The plan I had for my collection changed after I got to know you.”

She stopped painting, looking at him. “The collection’s changed?”

Harry was about to say something when there came knocking from the front door, soon followed by Jamie’s loud shouts. “Harry!” they called. “I know you’re on the balcony, mate!”

Harry sighed, glancing at the painting before meeting Y/N’s eyes again. “I’ll be right back.”

 She didn’t get a nod in before Harry was off the piano seat and walking down the stairs to let Jamie in. After everything, Harry had started locking his front door the second after closing it, without fail. He didn’t let anyone into his house, and if someone paid him a visit – which people rarely did – he would usually not leave them alone in a room. Y/N understood his weariness, and though she hated seeing his trust having been bruised like this, she wasn’t about to explain to him that there was no use. The only person in this town who would dare to do something like that was now in jail a few towns over, meaning Harry and his paintings were safe. But that was easier understood from an outside perspective than an inside one. Harry would have his guard up for people he met and let into his life from now on. It was only Y/N he allowed full access to all of himself. He wasn’t ashamed or scared of letting her in. She felt so honoured to be part of his life like this.

Y/N heard Harry let Jamie in, and instantly, the two started chatting. Their voices were heated right off the bat, but it was like they didn’t want her to hear, their voices sounded like angry whispered hisses of sorts. Y/N places the paintbrush in the glass of water, getting up and walking slowly toward the staircase leading downstairs. Maybe she would hear what they were talking about better that way. She knew she shouldn’t eavesdrop, but she couldn’t help herself.

“I swear,” Jamie said, listening in on what must be the middle of their conversation. “It’s like you don’t even understand what I’m trying to tell you.”

“That’s exactly what’s going on.”

Jamie groaned, the next part he said inaudible. Y/N stepped over the floorboard that she had come to learn was a bit creaky, and walked down the set of stairs to be closer to the two talking.

“You’re proud of yourself, aren’t you?” Jamie said, trying to keep their voice down.

“Which part?”

“You know what I’m talking about, Harry, don’t try and act innocent now.”

There was a pause, like the two had a sort of staring contest, daring the other one to say something. Y/N put her hands on the railing, biting her lip in anticipation of them starting to talk again. She heard Viola meowing downstairs and Harry sighing heavily, probably picking her up as he always did. He liked having her close. Just yesterday she’d taken her cast off and though she’d gotten used to not having it in a matter of a few hours, Y/N and Harry both liked carrying her. Y/N didn’t want the little cat to be at hers alone, so she’d brought her here. There wasn’t much in Y/N’s flat anyway now, almost everything was packed, ready for Friday.

“Y/N is upstairs, if you could-“

“-I know Y/N is upstairs.”

They fell quiet again, and Y/N wondered why Jamie’s voice sounded so harsh. What was going on? Had something happened?

“Harry, you can’t…” Jamie trailed off, groaning a little in what must be frustration.

“Can’t what?”

“I don’t want to have to say it.”

A slight pause before Harry growled, “Then don’t.” It was like he knew what Jamie was going to tell him. Y/N wished she did. She leaned a little more over the railing, willing them to speak up and put words to the situation.

“I think I might have to.” Jamie sighed. “Harry, you can’t-“

“-Jamie, I swear to God-“

“-You can’t shag your client.”

The house fell quiet once again and Y/N suddenly wished she hadn’t eavesdropped. Her heart sunk, sending a pain running through her entire body like one she’d never known before. Viola meowed again, Harry clearly having put her down on the ground again.

“Why?”

“You know why, Harry.” Jamie sounded defeated. Y/N had never imagined Jamie to act like this, but then again, listening to what they had to say, she understood. “It’s unprofessional.”

Harry huffed.

“What, H?”

“It’s unprofessional to fall in love?”

There was a slight pause before, “No, it’s unprofessional to go against the contract you yourself made Y/N and Portia sign.”

“Enlighten me.”

There was a rustling of papers as Jamie had clearly come prepared. “Want me to read you her contract or the agreement?”

“Aren’t they the same? They’ve both come back to bloody haunt me.-“

“-‘This agreement is made on the date of last signature below between: 1) The Employer: Harry Edward Styles, of Via Mizzani 1, Fosdinovo-“

“-I know my own fucking address, Jamie.-“

“-2) The Employee: Y/N Venus Sweeney, of 43 Overstone Road, Hammersmith, London, W6 0A-“

“-Jamie-“

“-The relationship between the two parties is to be strictly professional in nature, non-existent.’” There was a pause as Jamie ruffled through some more papers. “’The employee is not to distract the employer. They are not to form a bond outside the confines of the painting sessions.’” Jamie sighed. “Harry, you made this yourself. You decided on this contract and the agreement. There are tons more about her needing to ensure she’s not distracting you, how she’s not to come to your house, not to talk to you whilst you’re painting, not to invade your personal space, not to ask questions-“

“-I fucking get it.”

There was a slight bang, as if Jamie had slammed their hand onto the stack of papers on a table surface. “Do you, Harry?”

Silence sounded again, just Viola’s small paws against the metal staircase as she walked upwards toward Y/N. Viola meowed as she saw her, Y/N put a finger to her lips begging her not to make any noise. This whole situation was bad enough as it was without the wo downstairs knowing she was listening in.

“Can’t you just ruin the contract and the agreement, make another? I made these so I should be able to make a new contract.”

“People will find out, Harry.”

“How?”

“Because they always do. Especially when you’re a massive painter and people, tabloids, news reporters, all know your name.”

Harry groaned. “Then what will you have me do?”

There was a pause, as if Jamie was giving Harry some sort of look. Y/N bent down as Viola reached her, hugging her to her chest for comfort.

“No,” Harry growled. “No, Jamie.”

“You have to.”

“I’m not breaking it off with her.”

Jamie sighed. “It’s not a matter if you two want to or not; you have to. This isn’t what she’s here for, as is said in the contract. You didn’t want a relationship with her at all. People will find out about this, you will lose clients because of your unprofessionalism and your inability to keep to the rules of your own contract, and your success and reputation will be ruined. How are you supposed to listen to others and how are they supposed to take you seriously when you can’t even take yourself seriously enough to listen to your own words?”

Silence filled the house again; Y/N didn’t know what to do. She felt so helpless, so stupid. Viola purred against her, and Y/N wondered how someone could feel so content while the world of the person holding her was falling apart.

“I…” Harry stopped himself, clearing his throat some before he continued. “I must’ve forgotten.”

“If she’s in your bed right now, she’s undoubtedly forgotten as well.”

“Don’t fucking talk of her like that.” The words were venomous, telling them to watch their tone.

“This won’t just affect your career, Harry, it’s going to affect hers as well.”

This made Harry shut up, the quiet that followed was filled with agony. They had both been so blinded by the fact that Y/N would be leaving Italy and Harry soon that they hadn’t even thought of anything else. The contract she had been told to sign and what it had said, it had slipped Y/N’s mind. In truth, she didn’t properly read through it, thinking it couldn’t possibly be that strict and bad. Turns out it was, and now the two of them would have to live with the consequences. They couldn’t be.

“You know I want nothing but the best for you, Harry. Always have. That’s why I’m still here, why I’m working with you. You’re my best mate.” Jamie said, Harry sighing heavily at their words. “I don’t want to see you fail.”

“How about happy?”

“What?”

“You said you don’t want to see me fail; do you want to see me happy?” Harry asked. “I’ve not smiled as much as I have in the months she’s been here, then the entire year since the Salvatore incident. Or the years prior when I lived, worked, breathed completely alone.”

Jamie clicked their tongue. “I want to see you happy, but I want to find a way for you to be happy and still be able to paint for a living.”

“And I won’t be able to do that if I continue to be with Y/N?”

“No!” Jamie shouted, not caring anymore if Y/N could hear them or not. “You’ll be fucking miserable! I know you well enough to tell you this: without your work, without painting, you’ll be fucking miserable, Harry. If you flake on your own contract, what does that say about future professional relationships?”

Silence.

“You know I’m right.”

“Don’t fucking rub it in, Jamie.” Harry said, voice as low as Y/N remembered it to be when he was out of his mind angry. “Leave, please.”

Jamie let out a small groan. “Harry, don’t do this-“

“-Leave!” he repeated. “We’re not… doing this now.”

“Then when?”

Y/N heard Harry’s bare feet against the floor, already making his way towards the stairs. She quickly started walking up towards the loft with Viola against her chest still.

“In three days.”

“Why three days?”

“Because I said so!”

Y/N sat down by the easel, putting Viola down on the ground beside her, and pretending not to have listened at all. She heard the front door slam shut and Harry’s frustrated sigh as he reached the loft again. He stopped at the top of the stairs and she felt his eyes on her back, felt his frustration.

She knew why Harry wanted to talk to Jamie in three days. Knew why he was postponing it. She was leaving in three days. On that very Friday morning, she would say bye to Harry, be driven to the airport by a driver she’d never met, and probably never see Harry again. And she knew exactly where Jamie was coming from. Even when Harry sat down next to her, pretending not to have argued with Jamie minutes earlier about her and their relationship, Y/N was unable to think about anything else. Jamie was right. Harry and Y/N could simply not be together.

Thursday, 15 August 2019

All her stuff was at Harry’s. It would be easier for the driver to come to his place as the road by Y/N’s flat was very narrow and a nightmare to find a way out of unless you were driving a moped. It was the morning of her departure and Y/N had lied awake for a couple of hours, not wanting to move or get out of bed. She needed to take a bath before travelling to the airport, fully aware that because of the stress of her leaving as well as anxiety of never seeing Harry again, she’d been sweating more than usual that night.

Beside her, she hadn’t heard Harry all night. He usually breathed heavily, not quite snoring, but you would definitely know he was asleep if you ever heard him. She wondered if he’d slept lightly or not at all. Either way, she hated that she might be the cause of that. As she glanced over at him, his gaze was fixed on the ceiling overhead, deep in his thoughts. She didn’t want to disturb him or to break him out of his reverie if he was thinking of something important. Just barely, she could feel his hand in her hair, fingers running along her scalp in a soothing manner. If she hadn’t been so set on the fact that she was dreading leaving, she would’ve fallen back asleep.

Y/N sat up, about to get out of bed and walk to Harry’s bathroom when-

“-Where are you going?”

She looked down at him, his eyes fixed on her now. “Need to take a bath before I leave.”

Harry nodded slightly, and she was about to try and leave bed again when he took a grip of her wrist, sliding his hand down to hold hers. She waited for him to say something, but instead he just looked at her hand in his, stroking his thumb tenderly over her.

“Harry.”

“I need a date.” He suddenly blurted out. “I need to know the exact date I’ll get to see you next after this.”

She bit her lips together, glancing down at their hands as well. “I’ll be in London or Essex; you know where to find me, you have my addresses.”

“I do, but…” he paused, frowning. “I’ll only be in London for a week, max. And that’s at the end of tour. Six months away.”

“And I need to focus on my studies.” Y/N said, aware that if she was going to knock some sense into both her and Harry, she had to be harsh about it.

Harry’s frown deepened and he looked up at her. “I know that. I’m not telling you not to, it’s important.”

She nodded, not meeting his eyes.

He sat up as well, wanting to get a closer look at her. “Y/N.”

Her glance didn’t waver from their joined hands.

“Celeste.” He squeezed her hand some, making her look at him. She couldn’t help herself when he called her that. “We’re going to be okay.”

She looked away again, feeling her eyes sting. Why did Harry get her to feel so much all at once? She was both filled to the brim with the loveliest feelings in the whole entire world, but she also felt her chest about give out, like an oncoming earthquake that would shake her up and cause havoc for weeks, months, years to come.

Harry’s grip on her loosened. “What?”

“Hm?”

“You’re acting weird.”

“I don’t want to leave.”

“There’s more than that.”

She was quiet.

“Y/N-“

“-I heard yours and Jamie’s conversation the other day.” She looked at him again, and the instant she did, she saw sadness appear at the corners of his lips and desperation pooling somewhere in his eyes. “About the contracts.”

Harry sighed, closing his eyes.

“They’re right, Harry.”

“No,” he brought her hand into his lap, holding it tightly. “How can you say that?”

“Didn’t you hear what they were trying to tell you?”

“Yes, I did.” Harry said, eyes meeting hers. “But how can you say that?”

She furrowed her brows, exhaling slowly.

“If you feel even half of what I’m feeling, how can you say that?” Harry held her hand to his lips, not leaving a kiss there or anything alike, he just left it there as a reassurance that she was still with him. She hadn’t left yet. His eyes fell to the bed again. “I refuse to let you leave me like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like we’re never going to see each other again.” He said, sighing heavily against her hand. “Y/N, why are you saying this?”

“Because,” she blinked a few times, willing the tears away. “I’m trying to be realistic.”

“You don’t think we’re it?”

“I think I signed a contract months ago not knowing I would ultimately come to catch feelings for the person who wrote it.”

He looked over at her. “What does that matter?”

She sighed again. “Harry-“

“-How does it matter in the slightest?” he asked, moving closer to her and resting their hands against her chest so he could feel her heartbeat. “How does anything matter besides how much we feel for one another? Love is stronger, greater, truer than anything else, and no matter what the world throws its way, it will win. Love will always win.”

She felt her eyesight get blurrier. “How can you say that for certain? There are countless stories of people who were meant to be but couldn’t be ‘cause of circumstances.”

“And I’m sorry for them,” Harry said, a sad crease appearing between his brows as he saw the effect his words had on her. “But most of them at least tried to fight.”

She exhaled shakily.

“I’m ready to fight for us, Y/N. For you.”

She sobbed. “For me?”

“I wouldn’t even hesitate.”

Biting her lips together, she just looked at him, willing her racing heart and her blurry sight to calm down.

“There is absolutely no limit to what I would do… the lengths I would go…” he moved closer again, resting his forehead against hers. “Celeste, you have to believe that what I feel for you is larger than my mere existence.” He squeezed her hand. “It transcends my single body, it’s more than a simple human lifetime. I understand why people say love can change the world. If felt strong enough, it’s the greatest emotion and tool of the entire universe. It can be someone’s pillar and their downfall.”

She held onto him tighter.

“Don’t let it be our downfall, Y/N. I beg you.”

There was absolutely not a single part of her that wanted to leave. She wanted to stay in Fosdinovo with Harry till they were both grey and old, she wanted to stay here forever. As Harry had said, they were it. Why couldn’t she just tell him she felt it too? That she too knew that no matter who she met after Harry, no matter the attraction or how compatible they were, Y/N would never feel about them the same way she felt about Harry. No one could ever match him, and it would be dumb to even try.

But when would they meet next? Would they be able to stand the distance? Not talking for a few days? They’d basically spent all summer in each other’s company, how did they know a life without the other in it after this? Y/N was sure her love for Harry could conquer everything, but loving someone was different from surviving without them. Her love would still be there, even if they weren’t and never would be.

Letting go of one last sigh, Y/N got up from the bed, and walked to the bathroom. She knew Harry was watching her, and knew she needed to get about her bath before the driver arrived and she had to leave. She closed the door, crouching down beside the bath and turning the water on, checking it was the perfect temperature before she put the plug in, spreading some of her soap in the rising water. She waited, not trying to let her mind wander back to Harry alone in his bed. How she had just left him after that. How he didn’t want them to end things. But how she knew herself that it would be incredibly hard to wait six months before she got to see him again. It would be better for both of them if they just ripped off the band-aid right away instead of slowing the process down.

She got into the bathtub, sliding down the back of it, and closed her eyes. The warm water embraced her, offering a last sort of comfort before she would have to leave. She thought back on her summer. Let the memories wash over her. Sitting there, she tried to understand how this had all come about. How she had fallen in love with a painter who had treated her like nothing but shit the first few weeks of her stay here. How that same painter was a completely different person now. How he wanted her to believe in him and what they had enough to survive time and space. And she was sure their love for one another would. But at some point, time and space was too much and the lack of the presence of the other wasn’t much so.

She was terrified, she had to admit. There was not a single soul she had cared for or loved as much as Harry, and that alone mortified her. Harry had said so himself; their love was bigger than themselves, it was something more. Just by pressing her skin against his, Y/N felt like they were creating entire galaxies. Together they had made something bigger than themselves, something neither of them knew how to properly control if they weren’t together. So what would six months do? Seven months? A year?

Slowly, the door to the bathroom opened, revealing Harry to her. He was wearing his dungarees, something she had come to associate with him along with his pink Converse. She looked up at him, waiting for him to walk inside and do whatever he had thought of doing. What she hadn’t expected, was for Harry to sit down beside the bathtub. He reached for her cheek, caressing her so gently it felt like feathers against her skin. Gradually he reached for her neck, begging her to meet him halfway. And she did. It was the kind of kiss that held a promise. Y/N wasn’t sure what kind of promise it was or why it made her feel both hopeful and sad, but she clung to it. Both her hands rested at each of Harry’s cheeks, holding him to her. All his words earlier tattooed themselves to her memory, her brain, her heart. She would never forget them or the person who said them. This summer had brought her tenderness and thousands of lessons learned, but most importantly, it had brought her Harry, and for that she would forever be grateful.

Harry slid his hand down her shoulder, caressing her breast, into the hot water, and sliding his hand over her tummy. She kissed him harder as he reached lower, as he slid his middle and ring finger between her folds. Letting out a breathy moan, she let the feeling of Harry’s long fingers against her ever-growing sensitive bud take over everything she knew. The thought of Harry just wanting to please her without needing her to give anything back to him like most idiot men did, was everything to her. He just wanted to please her; just wanted to see her come, to see her smile and happy. It made her feel so incredibly much love for him all at once that the butterflies in her tummy went crazy. They flew into her core, flying in a circle so fast and creating a low hum of pleasure between her legs. She closed her eyes, relishing in Harry’s careful movements, letting him take complete control of her. When she opened her eyes again, looking straight into his though the sight was a little blurry, she could tell he hadn’t taken his eyes off her for a single second. He had watched her as her desire and desperation for him rose, as she started moving her hips ever so slightly to get that familiar spark of pleasure running through her.

As his mouth fell open at the sight of her, Y/N suddenly became very aware of just how much she ached for him. Her cunt was slick and very hot as Harry felt her out, and though she was in a bathtub and most areas were already wet, being turned on and ready for someone was a completely different kind. He no doubt felt her need for him rise. Staring at her the way he did, Y/N was sure he was savouring this moment just like she was. He wanted her to get off just so he could remember how well he was able to please her; so he could look back on this moment and her; so he could remember them this way forever. Being wet and desperate for him like this, every little sensation she felt was heightened, especially her clit and hole. A whimper left her lips, spilling onto Harry’s that hovered over hers.

“Yeah?” he said. “Does that feel good, baby?”

“Yes.” She breathed, not being able to help herself as he pushed his two fingers into her.

With his other hand, Harry took a grip of her hair, holding her face to his as he slid his fingers in and out of her. Though Harry loved getting her off, he usually did so with his tongue and not his fingers alone. They would rather get to it and fuck each other, as they had done senselessly and passionately for a week now. They moved so well together, fit together so well it almost felt meant to be. Nothing felt more right and certain than being with Harry, yet it was wrong and it would require time and strength and patience. How was it that all good things came with a prize? Wasn’t it hard enough that you had to search for your soulmate, but when you found them, they were hard or impossible to be with? Life would always found something and throw it in the way of a person’s wants.

She closed her eyes again, hearing the water splash around her as Harry started moving his hand harder. Pounding her deeper and making sure to get her exactly right. He knew the right buttons to press now, knew the small tricks and what would make her scream if he wanted her to. She loved how well he knew her. Loved that he had cared to even learn the small things about her, what would have her arch her back and repeat his names at the top of her lungs. Loved that he knew how she preferred her breakfast, her favourite drink, colour, her daily routines, and her sense of style. Loved that he had taken the effort to get to know her like she had done to him. She would never forget the small things about him.

“Stay,” he whispered, voice almost breaking. “And if you won’t stay, wait for me.”

She moaned, opening her eyes to look at him. Her grip on the hair at his neck and forearm tightened as the tension in her core did the same. She moved with him and her movements were frantic, needing the friction to increase and the fire in her lower stomach to build up into a huge explosion of pleasure. Water spilled everywhere, and Harry didn’t care in the least. Didn’t even bat an eye when he heard it hit his tiles. All her nerves perked up, a climax not far off.

“Y/N,” Harry mumbled. “Say something.”

She gripped him harder. “Harry.”

He tightened his hold on her hair, bringing her closer to him, moving his fingers a little faster. He was driving her completely mad. Absolutely mental. He knew that gripping her hair like that, moving the way he did, he would cause a reaction from her.

“Stay.”

“Baby, you know I can’t.” She said, moaning loudly.

He curled his fingers, fucking her harder and faster, letting her frantic state grow. She breathed harshly, gasping. He was hitting that exact spot that was like throwing fuel into a flame, because Y/N felt nothing but her orgasm just then.

“Then wait for me.” He said, voice low and desperate. “Please, Celeste.”

The bubble was about to burst, the pleasure inside of her was like white noise in her ears. Nothing but the feeling of Harry’s fingers, the hot water around her, his hand in her hair, breath mingling with hers, nothing else mattered. He was here, making sure she left him knowing what he could give her and more.

“I’ll wait for you.” He said, leaning down and kissing her neck. “Please, wait for me.”

She leaned her head against his, nails digging into his skin, frantic because the orgasm she was about to have would undoubtedly make her legs and entire world shake.

“Come for me, baby.” He mumbled against her, kissing her jaw. “Come. Only for me.”

She breathed harshly and moaned a little too loudly, but she could not control herself. She gasped. It ran up her spine, her torso, down her thighs, and to her fingertips that was clinging to Harry. She felt it everywhere, like it radiated off her entire body. It was like magic had found a place to hide inside her, running through her like every incredible sensation the world had to offer. The orgasm toned down in waves and Y/N only realised once she opened her eyes again that her legs had been shaking.

Harry lifted his head, letting go of her hair and sliding his fingers out of her. He leaned forward, giving her a desperate kiss. She felt it in every cell of her body. Everything within her was reaching for him, not wanting to leave but knowing that she had to. There was a life waiting for her back home, an important one at that, and she simply could not cut that part of her life off because she wanted to stay in Fosdinovo with Harry. They breathed harshly against one another and as Harry pulled away, a small whimper left Y/N’s lips, begging him to kiss her again. He did, just as hard and passionate as the time before. But suddenly he got up, walked out of the bathroom, and left her alone to get cleaned up and dressed. It was a mere 15 minutes till the driver would be here after all.

She got ready. Putting her clothes on, fixing her hair, and making sure she didn’t look as sad as she felt. But in the middle of getting ready, she heard honking outside, and everything within her sank. It was time. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, willing herself to calm down. She couldn’t walk downstairs a weeping mess. The driver would be horrified and Harry would never let her leave if she was crying. She walked out of the bathroom, but her suitcases weren’t there. Instantly, she knew Harry had carried them down, and she wasn’t sure if she appreciated him doing it or despised him for not letting her do it herself so she could stay there a few minutes longer.

“Sweeney?” asked the driver as she got downstairs.

Y/N gave him a smile. “Yes, sir.” Looking past him, she saw Harry putting the last of her stuff in the boot of the car, a look on his face that could either be of concentration or of restraint to show what he was actually feeling. Harry shut the boot, giving the driver a small nod as they walked down the front stairs and to the driver’s seat.

Y/N stepped outside, letting the Italian summer sun hit her one last time and for once not detesting the fact it hurt her eyes. Harry stood at the bottom of the stairs waiting for her as she made her way down. His dungarees were still wet, but it was already starting to dry in the heat of morning.

She let go of a heavy sigh as she reached him. “Harry-“

But she stopped herself as he took her hand in his. “Don’t.” He said lowly. “It’ll only make this harder.”

She nodded, very aware that it would be. Whatever either of them said now would make it harder. But what made it even worse was Harry bringing her hand up, and kissing it as tenderly as he had done that first time. Slowly he turned her hand around, kissing it just as softly and bringing tears to Y/N’s eyes that she had tried to hard to keep at bay. Their eyes met and as he saw how glassy hers were, something in his face changed. Before he could reach up and try and console her, something that would make everything worse times ten, Y/N walked past him and to the car. She closed the door, put her seatbelt on and glanced out the window at Harry who had turned around, not taking his eyes off her for a single second.

The engine roared to life, the driver stepped on the pedal, and away they went. Her heart was racing, unable to believe that she was leaving Fosdinovo for good now. The village she had spent all summer in, that she had come to love. The cat she considered a great friend, and the other actual human beings that had made a huge impact on her. Possibly the love of her life. She was leaving it all behind. And as she felt a tear roll down her cheek, she knew that no matter what, nothing would mend the loss of any of it.

She swore she heard her name being called somewhere behind them, like a desperate plea somewhere in the cloud of dust the car made along the country roads. But as she turned around to look out the back window, hoping to see him there, she saw nothing. It must’ve only been a figment of her imagination. She turned back around and went home to England.

NEXT UPDATE: 1st March 2020, 9PM GMT

a huge thanks to my lovely beta readers!

💙 @aileenacoustic​ 💙 @emotionally-imbruised​ 💙 @fromyourstrulyh​ 💙

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 13: The Oscars

(from the My Girl Trilogy: Stay Mine)

…in which they attend the Oscars and Y/N almost misses it.

Word count: 5k

AU: actor!Harry, older!Harry, younger!Y/N, (4-year age gap).

Song in the kitchen scene: A Million Times - Alice Kristiansen ft. Julian Lamadrid 

Wattpad link (Thea as Y/N)

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“And the Oscar goes toooooooo...HARRY STYLES!”

“Stop making fun of me!”

“I’m not!” Y/N plumped down on to the treehouse floor, sitting with her legs crossed as she shook Harry’s arm gently. “Come on. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“I’m not being hard on myself. I’m being realistic,” he replied, toying with a yellow leaf he’d found on the floor just to avoid making eye contact as they spoke. Y/N didn’t get why he was embarrassed and so doubtful of himself. She had seen him on stage when he’d been Romeo last year. He was one of the best kid actors and no one could convince her otherwise.

“Your new drama teacher was a meanie,” she huffed, arms folded across her chest.

Harry finally cast her a glance as the corners of his mouth turned up. “You’re not being objective. Mrs Berry was.”

“You’re a kid! Kids are allowed to make mistakes. That’s the only way they can learn and improve. My writing sucks but you don’t see me giving up.”

“Has anyone ever told you your writing sucks?”

“Celine’s brother.”

“He’s an arsehole.”

“Harry!”

“Sorry,” Harry chuckled, lifting both hands. “He’s a bum.”

Y/N didn’t laugh when he did. If her mum and dad knew he cursed all the time, they wouldn’t let her hang out with him anymore. “Well,” she exhaled. “I feel sorry for your teacher. She probably has nothing better to do with her life than crushing kids’ dreams because her dreams had died with her talent when she became a teacher instead of an actress.”

“Are you sure you’re ten years old?” Harry smiled, giving her a look that could be interpreted as either amazed or amused or both.

She’d never told him, but he had one of the best smiles she’d ever seen, which was why she was sure he would become successful. Having a great smile was a great quality for every actor. At least that was what her best friend Celine had told her.

“Are you sure you’re older than me?” she rebutted.

He lifted his shoulders in a half-shrug. “I’m gonna listen to you because you’re a know-it-all.”

She said nothing and launched herself to her feet, clearing her throat. He watched with a confused look on his face when she picked up his water bottle and held it with both hands like the way an actor would hold the Oscar statue.

“Harry is too shy to come on stage and accept this Academy Award,” she said, “so I’m gonna accept it on his behalf. He’d like to thank his family, his drama teacher Mrs Berry, and his biggest fan Y/N aka Bambi. These are the people who helped shape his career.” Harry doubled over laughing as she lifted the water bottle above her head. “Thank you so much for this award. Have a good night, Los Angeles!”

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Y/N contemplated her reflection in the full-length mirror while Harry was watching her from the couch on the side. She cast him a sideways glance, to which he responded with a thumbs-up and a grin.

She sucked in a breath, looking back at herself. She looked different. She felt different. She had worn plenty of expensive gowns that didn’t belong to her and attended countless exclusive events with Harry before. But this. This was the Academy Awards. And she was wearing the kind of dress that was meant to turn heads on the red carpet, the kind of dress that models wore on the runway. She used to watch award shows with her best friends all the time, and could never imagine herself pulling off such elegant outfits. But now, she almost looked like she belonged at the Oscars.

She wasn’t wearing any make-up and her hair was in a simple low ponytail, so she knew the dress had done all the work to make her look desirable. Harry’s designer had taken the inspiration from the iconic silver dress in The Little Mermaid, when Ariel returned from the sea and reunited with Prince Eric. Harry had joked that Y/N resembled a fawn more than a princess, and she had smacked him hard on the arm, proving that she was neither.

“Is it too tight?” asked Meili – the designer. She was so kind that Y/N felt like they’d been friends forever. But on second thought, being a professional, it was Meili’s job to make her clients feel most comfortable in and out of her designs.

“No, this is perfect,” Y/N said.

“Are you sure?” She confirmed with a nod. “All right.” Meili patted her gently on the back. “How about we try walking?”

And so Y/N descended the steps and sauntered about the fitting area to make sure she was comfortable and able to breathe normally. Harry had risen from the sofa and come to stand beside Meili, his eyes dancing with amusement as he watched Y/N strike a silly pose.

“What do you think?” she asked him.

Instead of answering the question, he turned to Meili. “Can you show me how to take it off?”

Meili had quite a good laugh watching Harry with his hands up in defence as Y/N tried to hit him without hurting the dress. It was then that the sound of her ringtone from her bag came for his rescue.

He pecked her cheek and stayed to chat with Meili about his outfit while Y/N answered the call from her agent.

“Y/N!” Laura said before Y/N could speak. “What are you doing, babe?”

“I’m at the fitting for the Oscars.”

There was a pause followed by a dramatic sigh. “Oh, I nearly forgot that you’re attending the Oscars. Are you nervous?”

“Kind of.” Y/N giggled. “But I suppose you’re not calling me to ask what I’m doing, are you, Laura?”

“Of course not! I’d like to remind you that we’re having a party next Saturday!”

“Right, right, party–No!”

Both Harry and Meili whipped their heads back to gape at Y/N.

“What do you mean?” he asked. “I thought it was a brilliant idea–”

Y/N shushed her boyfriend as she indicated the phone to let him know she wasn’t talking to him.

“Hi, Laura!” he shouted, and Laura, who obviously had heard it, squealed like a schoolgirl and demanded to be put on speaker.

Y/N tapped the speaker icon as she slumped into the couch where Harry soon joined her, sitting with an arm around her shoulders. “Hi, Laura,” he repeated.

Laura laughed excitedly. “Hi, Harry! We’ve never met before but I’ve heard so much about you!”

“And I’ve heard so much about you!”

“I’m your client, Laura. Not him,” Y/N snorted as Harry kissed her temple.

“Oh, yes, right.” Laura cleared her throat to compose herself. “So what’s the matter? I thought–”

“The Oscars is next Sunday night, Laura. I have to catch the plane on Saturday morning. I can’t go to your party.”

“Your party, Y/N.”

“What party?” Harry asked.

Y/N opened her mouth to answer but Laura was faster. “To celebrate your girl’s debut novel! It hasn’t come out yet, but everything is settled. It’s a tradition. I always throw this party for my client. Everyone at the agency will be there and there will be some guests from the publishing house and some published authors. It’ll be grand.”

Y/N sucked in a breath and pinched her temple, her eyes met Harry’s. His expression was unreadable. To Laura, she asked, “Can we push it back a few days?”

“Absolutely not! I’ve sent out the invitations. You told me any date this month would do!”

Y/N had. And she kind of regretted it now. She’d been chatting with Gemma when Laura asked her about the date. Gemma had been devastated by what had happened with Winton, so Y/N had been busy comforting her and told Laura to just pick any date she’d like. It was all her fault; she should have reminded Laura about the Oscars.

Y/N glanced back at Harry, hoping he didn’t think she’d purposely prioritized her success over his. Because why would she think her first novel was a better reason to celebrate than his first-ever Oscar nomination?

But Harry didn’t seem vexed. His dimples appeared as he traced his fingertips along the strap of her sparkling dress. “It’s okay, Laura,” he said to the phone. “You don’t have to change the date.”

Y/N’s eyes went round as Laura hissed, “Yes!”

“Baby–”

“You’ll go to your party,” he said, “and I’ll send my ride to pick you up and take you to the airport. They won’t leave without you, silly.”

Right. She’d be travelling on his private jet.

“But...I’ll be late.”

“So?” He shrugged nonchalantly. “I can manage the first few hours without you. Why should your career be any less important than mine?”

“He’s right, Y/N,” Laura said.

Y/N swivelled in her seat to face him as she took his hand. “I’ll just come to say hello to the guests–”

“And give a speech!” Laura interjected, making Y/N roll her eyes and Harry chuckle.

“Fine, I’ll come to say hello and give a speech and then I’ll come to you.”

“Deal?” His lips twitched as he gave her his pinkie.

“Deal,” she said, hooking her pinkie with his.

.

.

.

The party was insane.

Y/N had specifically asked Laura not to overdo this, but the agent had insisted on throwing her favourite client the most Gasby party she could pull off. Y/N didn’t even know half of the faces who’d shaken her hand and congratulated her on her debut novel which hadn’t been released yet. She felt like a fraud. What if these people ended up hating her book? What if this party made her seem like a show-off? She was already dating an Oscar nominee; she didn’t want to be branded as any more privileged than that.

She kept the speech she’d promised Laura as short and simple as possible, then returned polite smiles to the guests as she made her way to the back of the room. She wouldn’t be surprised if these folks thought that she had zero personality. When it came to self-branding, she needed all the help she could get. How did Harry do it? How did he charm people into liking him before they even viewed his work? As much as she loved him, she couldn’t help but envy him sometimes.

She wiped her sweaty palms on her dress before getting another glass of champagne and finishing it a second before Laura came up to check on her.

“You okay? You look a bit pale,” Laura said.

“Well, I tend to get anxious at formal events,” Y/N snorted, shaking her head. “I usually attend these kinds of parties with Harry. He’d do all the talking and help me get involved in the conversation. He’s very charismatic.”

“I’m charismatic!” Laura said with a hand on her chest. Y/N responded with a smile. Laura wascharismatic. The problem was, Y/N was more comfortable with Harry. Or maybe she couldn’t help but feel guilty that she’d miss the red carpet walk with him. She hated to be the one to break a promise.

“You need to stop checking your watch like modern Cinderella at the royal ball.”

Y/N dropped her arm back to her side. “I’m so nervous, Laura.”

“About this party? People love you!”

“About...everything.” This party. Her 2 AM flight. The Oscars. Showing up late. Missing Harry’s category. Her book release. The likelihood of having people roast her book unforgivingly on the internet.

She had the tendency of freaking out over insignificant matters whenever good things kept happening to her. Because, as usual, bad luck would come for her when she was most defenceless and took away her joy. This time, she could feel it in her stomach.

Laura gripped her shoulders and squeezed them tight. “You are my superstar, Y/N. You are the shit. You are the most brilliant–”

“Okay, I get it, I get it,” she laughed, pulling Laura into a hug. “Thank you for tonight. I owe you so much, Laura.”

“Don’t be stupid. You saved my life. Literally,” Laura smirked and gently patted Y/N’s cheek. “Now, let’s go say goodbye to the guests. It’s almost time for you to go.”

Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. She’d been waiting for this moment since she’d arrived. People might wonder why she seemed more energetic saying goodbye to them than when she’d welcomed them to the party. But she was just happy that she could finally leave. The last thing she wanted was to show up late for her flight (Harry had said the plane wouldn’t leave without her but she hated delays anyway) and missed more of the Oscar ceremony tomorrow than she’d allowed herself to.

The journey to LA happened in a rush. She’d slept for most of her twelve-hour flight because she’d been so exhausted. Harry’s bodyguard only woke her up when they were about to land. The next thing she knew, she was taken to his LA house. She had never been there before. It was much bigger than the one in London, but less homely, perhaps because she’d known every corner of the place that was supposed to be theirs. This one just seemed like a resort.

The hair and makeup team and Harry’s stylist were waiting upstairs to make her Oscars-ready. She’d eaten quite a lot on the plane before it took off, so she feared she wouldn’t fit in the dress. Magically, she did. And she felt so silly for feeling like she might burst into tears.

When the makeup artist asked how she’d like to have her makeup done, she told them to make her recognizable. They didn’t ask her to elaborate on that, so she hoped they knew what she meant. She didn’t want to be the centre of attention tonight, especially when she was going to show up late. The only attention she craved for was Harry’s and she was going to get it anyway, with or without this glamorous costume.

Fortunately, the makeup artist did a fantastic job. They gave her simple eye makeup and red lips and put her hair up into a classic high bun. It wasn’t until tonight that she couldn’t stop staring at herself in the mirror. Harry would be so impressed.

As Harry’s team did some final touches on her face, one girl showed her some clips and pictures of Harry on the red carpet. He looked dashingly handsome and comfortable, and when being interviewed, he said he loved her and couldn’t wait to see her later. The part of her that had been feeling guilty could finally let go of that breath she’d been holding. She thanked the makeup team for everything and came downstairs when her car arrived.

The chauffeur was a middle-aged man with greyish hair and a kind face. He was talking on the phone and ended the call as soon as he saw her. He looked rather tired, but before she could ask for his name and if he was feeling well, she remembered that she’d left her clutch upstairs, and so she asked him to wait while she went back to get it. He told her to take her time.

When she came downstairs for the second time, the man was on the phone again. He didn’t see her return so he didn’t hang up. Y/N couldn’t help but overhear the last part of the conversation where he told whoever he was speaking to that he would be at the hospital as soon as he finished his job.

“Is everything okay, sir?” she asked once he’d finished the call. He whipped around, seemingly startled to see her there. “You can tell me if something is wrong. I might be able to help,” she said.

The chauffeur looked hesitant at first. He worked his jaw for a moment before he could tell her, “My daughter...is sick. She’s just been taken to the hospital. I’ll go see her as soon as I take you to–”

“No! You’re going to see her now!” cried Y/N.

He squinted his eyes at her as if he thought she was testing him. “Are you...are you sure, Miss? Mr Styles told me–”

“I’ll talk to Harry for you. Don’t worry.”

Telling someone not to worry never seemed to work. The man screwed up his face as he shoved a hand in his hair. “Should I send you another car, Miss? Mr Styles said...he said that you couldn’t drive.”

“Of course I can!” Y/N blurted, then realized how defensive she’d sounded.

She could drive. However, she was afraid to sit behind the wheel.

Ever since her accident, she’d been using public transport and let Harry drive her around instead of doing it herself. He knew it wasn’t just her anxiety of getting into another accident. Her mother had died in a car crash, and Harry had seen how scared she’d been when he’d crashed his motorcycle. Those final thirty seconds after the collision and before she’d gone unconscious, Y/N had felt it all at once. Her mother’s death, her almost losing Harry, her head cracking open and the numbness when she lay on broken glass and her vision faded to black. She could only hope she would get through her fear this time.

“I’ll take one of his cars,” she reassured the man. “Don’t worry about me, sir. Your daughter needs you.”

The man thanked Y/N repeatedly and hurried back to the car parked in the drive. Y/N waited until he was gone, checked the time to make sure she’d make it, then she sucked in a deep breath and headed to the garage.

.

.

.

Harry was a bundle of nerves trying to act composed while the other nominations were being presented. There were cameras everywhere and they could zoom into his face at any moment so he could not look like he might throw up. He was here for his Best Actor nomination; it’d be so embarrassing if he couldn’t act like he was having the best time of his life.

Y/N should have been here a long time ago. Where the fuck was she? She’d texted him that she’d drive here by herself. He didn’t want to be pessimistic, but the last time she’d sat behind the wheel, she’d ended up in the hospital.

It’d been half a year since, but he couldn’t forget that feeling when he got the call. He was praying to God that the next time his phone buzzed, it would be her telling him she’d arrived safely. If something unpleasant was going to happen (as it always did), he would accept anything as long as she was safe.

The moment his phone sounded, he jolted so hard he might have startled the lady sitting beside him. Jeff’s words swivelled in his head: Do not check your phone during someone’s acceptance speech.Well, screw that. His girl wasn’t here and the last thing he would worry about was looking like an asshole on live television.

➣ I’m here.

When he saw those words, the lump in his throat dissolved and his body relaxed into the cushion. His fake smile had been replaced with a genuine one, so at least people who saw him texting during Brad Pitt’s speech would just assume he was texting his girlfriend, who was supposed to fill the vacancy next to him.

Good. I saved you a seat, he typed and sent.

➣ I’m staying backstage. I can’t go out there.

Harry’s smile dropped as he squirmed in his chair. Why? Are you okay?

She took a bit longer to reply.

➣ Yes, don’t worry. There’s a screen here. I can watch you.

Harry muttered a curse as he put his phone back into his pocket. After a moment of leg bouncing and lip biting, he decided to go check on her.

.

.

.

Y/N splashed water on her face, which was now clean of makeup and checked her pathetic reflection in the mirror one last time before she left the bathroom. She’d been sweating so hard on the way here that by the time she’d arrived, Harry’s beauty team’s two-hour of hard work had been ruined. She’d even ripped her dress by accident when she’d nearly fallen headfirst in the car park, so going out there to sit beside Harry would do so much damage to his reputation.

Besides, she was fatigued after the long flight and hadn’t rested since she got off the plane. She’d thrown up as soon as she’d texted him and found the bathroom. So it was for the best if she didn’t make an appearance tonight. It was less intimidating here backstage. She could just watch him on the screen and–

Where the fuck was he?

Her eyes frantically searched on the screen for her boyfriend.

Where had he gone?

No, he couldn’t–

“Bambi!”

She smacked him with her clutch as he rushed in for a hug. The backstage security and a few others couldn’t help the amusement as they watched them. Y/N flashed the strangers a smile before turning back to her boyfriend, who looked so stupidly happy it should be illegal. “Jeff would kill you! Go back out there!”

“But you’re here,” he said.

“I’m not nominated, you idiot!”

“I’m the idiot? You drove here!”

“I have a fucking license!”

“Then you’re an idiot with a fucking license!”

He didn’t wait for her to rebut and locked her in his arms, squeezing the air out of her like he hadn’t seen her in years. She held him back, for a second forgetting that she was sweating like a pig, her hair had fallen loose and her face weary from jetlag. She didn’t feel any less desirable, though. She knew he loved her anyway.

“Go out there with me,” he said, cupping her cheeks and kissing her nose.

“Are you crazy? Look at me!”

He pulled back to consider her appearance, his eyebrow arched. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

She glared at him as he grinned. “The world doesn’t wear rose-coloured glasses like you do.”

His face grew serious. “You’re right. Maybe I see a princess and they see a frog.”

Too familiar with his teasing, she snorted, “Your ability to go from Prince Charming to an arsehole never fails to amaze me.”

“My pleasure.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers just in time his phone chimed in his pocket. “Shit, that must be Jeff. I must go before he finds me here.” He let out a long heavy breath and then stroked her hair like she was a child. “Can you stay here by yourself, baby?”

“Keep talking like that and people might think you’re my dad,” she said.

“Daddy.” He smirked.

She hit him again, shaking with laughter. “Go!”

“Okay, love you, idiot.”

“Love you, too, idiot.”

He kissed her on the cheek and then he was gone.

.

.

.

Harry didn’t win.

Even though he’d said he wasn’t disappointed, and he didn’t seem disappointed at all, Y/N still suspected that he might be faking it. It wasn’t such a big loss since he’d been up against some big contenders. He was young, so there was a bigger chance for him to get an Oscar in the future. However, she knew the feeling of not expecting anything but still feeling awful when you didn’t get it. She’d known his chance was flimsy, and yet she had hoped he’d win somehow. She might have to wait until next year to hear his acceptance speech.

Exhausted (Y/N more than Harry), they skipped the after-party to have one at home by themselves. They drank champagne and danced barefoot around the kitchen in their nice clothes. The house which Y/N had compared to a resort soon became familiar with his presence.

Streetlights, stumbling home

To our very own, after party

Won't lie, when we're alone

You're my favourite poem to recite

Harry turned down the volume of the song playing on the speaker. As Y/N poured some more champagne, he climbed onto a chair, standing on one foot, the other foot resting on the kitchen island.

She watched him with lazy eyes and took another sip. “If you fall, I’ll let you fall.”

He chuckled. “I’m overwhelmed by your love, Bambi.” Then he shook his head and pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. It took her two seconds to figure out that it was his acceptance speech. She slid into a chair and gazed up at him with her chin on her knuckles.

He cleared his throat extravagantly and began by thanking the Academy, the cast and crew and the director of his movie, then his family and his team. It must be the wine that made every word he said in that posh accent extremely funny. She laughed so hard she almost fell off the chair.

Then, he took the longest pause to consider her, and the room sank to silence as he worked his jaw before he proceeded. “There’s this girl I love. She used to be my little secret but now she’s here watching me accept my first Academy Award. She’s the reason I’m here today, so I owe this one to her.”

Then he raised his glass as if it was the award and hopped off the chair. Before she could applaud, he’d pulled her to her feet and pressed his mouth against hers, kissing her as if she was the only thing he wanted. She kissed him back just as hard, hands in his hair, on his neck, his chest, his back, his face. Her whole body was on fire. It must be the wine. She needed to get out of this dress and get him out of his suit.

Went to bed without you (While you were sleeping)

Felt colder it used to (I crossed an ocean)

And I can't wait (And I can't wait)

'Till I get back to you

“It sounded better when I first wrote it. I’m kind of glad I didn’t win,” he said against her lips as he picked her up and sat her on the edge of the kitchen island.

She tipped her head back and laughed. “At least you weren’t going to propose to me on the stage.”

Suddenly, he stopped. She blinked as he pulled away, his mouth red and glossy from kissing her. She hadn’t even got a chance to feel bad for making that joke and he’d already stepped back. The next thing she knew, he was on one knee on the floor.

She slapped a hand over her open mouth. Her mind went blank, and the music in the background faded to white noise. The thundering beats in her chest made it hard for her to breathe. He wasn’t going to, was he? But if he was, was she going to say yes?

“My beautiful mermaid, frog, little deer,” he began with a straight face, and she choked out an unexpected laugh muffled by her hand. “I love you,” he said. “And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Then he sucked in a breath. The suspense was killing her. “But...I don’t want to marry you–”

“Excuse me?!”

“–right now.”

She could tell he was trying his best not to guffaw at her reaction. She was confused and amused at the same time. What was going on? Was he really that drunk? He didn’t seem that drunk. She would kick his arse if he thought this was funny!

“I just want to let you know,” he went on despite the look on her face, “that I will ask you to marry me. I know you hate surprises and if I asked you unexpectedly, the chances of you saying no would be much higher. So let’s consider this as a proposal for a bigger proposal.” He wetted his lips, his eyes fixed on hers. “Y/N, my darling, will you allow me to ask you to marry me someday?”

She laughed out loud though her eyes were already filled with tears. She didn’t know why she was crying but she couldn’t stop. She blamed the wine and him and his stupid speech and whatever the fuck he thought he was doing right now. “I hate you.” She laughed through her tears. “I hate you so much.”

He got up, his eyes wide. “You hate me after I told you I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you?”

“Yes.”

He closed the distance between them, standing between her legs with his hands on her hips. “Yes, I can ask you to marry me in the future, or yes, you hate me for what I said?”

“Both.” She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth against his. “I love you. I hate you. I love you,” she said in between kisses. “I love you so much I hate you.”

“Tonight is the best night of my life,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “I didn’t want to win. I just wanted you to be there with me.”

“I’ll be there with you next time.” She rested her forehead against his. “And next time, and next time, and forever...”

You don't fall in love once but a million times

Waking up each morning with you by my side

When I drift away, I'll come back with the tide

I'm falling in and out again

Falling in and out again

[atlantis-scribe]

Under the cut are the Stargate things I did this year. Yay me!

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[ FANFIC ]

sliding doors (1/1) [ posted 12 January 2020 ]

For every person, there comes a moment, seemingly unimportant and inconsequential, that can forever change the rest of their lives.

For John Sheppard, this moment has always been just waiting for him. The question is whether or not he takes it, and how long he has until it finally gives up on him.

This one was inspired by the JJ x Reid plot twist in Criminal Minds (CM). I grew up watching CM, so it made perfect sense in my head to mix the shows together. It also seemed fitting, since post-series McShep looks to be heading towards a similar storyline with what happened to JJ and Reid. Sometimes, two people just aren’t going to end up together, feelings and regrets and longing notwithstanding :(

edge of a precipice (1/1) [ posted 5 June 2020 ]

There’s a reason why John never crosses the line.

I just really had to practice writing Pining!John (and John voice). That’s it; no other excuse. I also wanted to see if I can write a first kiss between them that makes sense in my head, one that can happen organically. It ended up a little too melancholic for my taste, but I’m glad I got to put it down.

archimedes in love (1/1) [ posted 20 June 2020 ]

John is trying to make things easier for the both of them.

Rodney, it turns out, has never really learned to do anything the easy way.

This was really difficult to write, not only because doing Rodney POV requires so much brainpower and vocabulary (as opposed to John voice, which is an exercise in casual and practiced emotional restraint) but also because I wanted angst, but not too much, you know? (This was also when I noticed I tended to daydream about post-canon scenarios. Seriously, show. You ended way too soon.) I’m pretty happy with the result, though, even if it wasn’t exactly how I pictured it would be when I started it.

off the record (1/1) [ posted 17 July 2020 ]

“I’m drunk,” Rodney declares, knowing that resistance is futile with Tower 5-C already listing ten degrees to the right.

“Yeah?” There’s a serious note to Sheppard’s voice, prompting Rodney to turn and face him. Blinking slowly, he finds the other man’s gaze fixed on something just above Rodney’s left ear. When Sheppard speaks again, the sound comes out almost ominous. “Good.”

(Or: Rodney and John share a bottle of Athosian ruus wine, and talk about things they won’t remember in the morning.)

My favorite one-shot title! Also inspired by that sweet-but-gutting scene from Crash Landing On You, where the leads had a drinking session and allowed themselves to be honest under the guise of not being able to remember anything the next day. What can I say, I love angst. Nothing new.

maybe next time (1/1) [ posted 28 July 2020 ]

Unbeknownst to the two of them, there had been five times when Rodney and John almost met.

I surprised myself with how quickly I wrote this. One sitting, about two hours tops. This was a fun little exercise for me, with the canon details I had to incorporate to make it realistic. Also pretty proud of the title ;)

in retrospect (1/1) [ posted 28 November 2020 ]

Tony Stark owes someone an apology, but finding the guts to say sorry is proving to be the least of his problems.

Always wanted to do my own MCU fusion after reading Siria’s The Things We Did and Didn't Do. (Read it if you guys haven’t yet!) It’s going to be a series, with heavy emphasis on Rodney & Tony’s dynamic. So excited for the other installments and really bummed that I’m not as prolific a writer as some of y’all are. Alas, we work with what we have.

Stargate Oblivion (5/?) [ 10 April 2020 - present ]

Fifteen years after John Sheppard left Atlantis for good, the Stargate Program is finally ready to go public.

In the ensuing chaos, sixteen-year-old Paula Jane McKay is thrown in the middle of sinister plots, complicated loyalties, and old secrets that will force her to choose between her beloved city and the planet she has spent her whole life yearning for.

Ah, the fic that continues to eat my brain. I will finish this if it’s the last thing I do, I swear. It’s sort of a way for me to play with time jump, original characters, the restrictive nature of canon compliance, and what happens to soulmates after being apart for so long (to name a few elements). It’s basically a love story 20 years in the making that I only hope doesn’t take me just as long to write lol

SIX SENTENCE SUNDAYS

This was exciting for the first few weeks, until I caught myself being anxious over what to write next and it sucked the fun out of the whole exercise. It did help me practice writing short pieces, and rest assured I’ll post another one if something shiny comes up.

MCSHEP AUs

Crash Landing On You

My Love From The Star

Also known as, ‘How to Hack Kit’s Brain’. This really helped me deal with the countless plot bunnies that keep popping up in my brain. I have a lot of these on queue, each one meant to satisfy my curiosity without committing to writing a full-length fic. Unless specified otherwise, these little ficlets aren’t going to be complete stories. I’m giving everyone carte blanche to pick up whatever you find interesting and to write your own version/continuation. Just drop me a link to your story so I can gush about it :)

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[ REC LISTS ]

Kit's 2020 McShep Fic Rec List [ AO3 | Tumblr ]

Halloween 2020 Rec List [ Link ]

So happy a lot of people loved the fic recs. Join (or rejoin, for OG McShep fans) me in my downward spiral, folks. I have no plans whatsoever to look for the end of the tunnel  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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[ STARGATE SIDEBLOG ]

atlantis-scribe

Of course, my favorite accomplishment of the year: this little sideblog. The pandemic has been rough for everyone (unless you’re Jeff or Elon, and if you are, can you pls fund the Stargate reboot?), so I’m really just happy to spread good vibes all around. This has been my most active participation in any fandom, so I may be a little awkward when it comes to interacting with other people. Forgive me if I violate some well-established rules; I’m trying to educate myself along the way. I really am just perfectly happy to provide whatever content I can, and people’s comments/tags/messages are simply icing on the cake.

Whatever reason you guys may have, I’m delighted to have you over. Grab a seat; let’s talk about stars and gates ;)

.

[purplesurveys]

1167

surveys by emptyliketheocean

Brand of cigarettes you smoke? I don’t smoke cigarettes, or at least I never buy my own packs.

Should you be trusted with a person's life? Idk, that’s for them to decide.

How's your life in general? I lost two relatives from Covid this week alone. So, not very dandy. Still in shock. Waiting for it to all finally crash down so I can grieve and mourn properly. Scared of more losses and hoping there aren’t any more to come.

Have you ever put lipstick on anything besides lips? I don’t wear makeup, but when my friends have put some on me in the past there were a couple of times they dabbed lipsticks on my cheeks.

Have you ever picked a fight you knew you would lose? Metaphorically speaking, yeah. I don’t get into physical fights.

What's something you think is crazy about the world? The concept of centibillionaires and the fact that there are multiple ones who exist.

What do you think about religion? I think the only upside to it is how it has helped save lives for some and how it serves as a guide for others to spread good in the world. Like if your religion has given you purpose and strength, that’s great. But ultimately, I’m not a fan and I most definitely don’t think religion is necessary to be a kind person. In fact, I think it works the opposite...most of the homophobes, misogynists, pro-lifers, and sexists I know are from the Christian faith. Cringe.

What about when religion causes violence? Well I definitely have a bone to pick with this lol. The only reason the Philippines is predominantly Catholic today is precisely that when the Spanish arrived, they used violence to forcingly convert Filipinos - who were then living in peace with their own culture, government, and religion system - to Christianity. And now we’re ‘celebrating’ 500 years of Christianity in the country this year, which was always so off to me because why are we celebrating colonization lol????????????? But anyway, yeah, that is another issue I have with religion. I want nothing to do with it.

What color is one of your hats? I have an off-white summer hat but I have literally never used it in public because it’s huge and it’s 100% going to draw attention.

How do you feel? My shoulders are sore and I’m feeling slightly irritated because of them. I’m also starting to get a bit hungry.

Have you ever gotten in trouble for laughing? A few times.

Something that makes you smile: Free food.

What do you think about surveys with lyrics as the title? Surveys with random lyrics usually end up being the ones with interesting questions, so I actually am more likely to check it out.

Do you have any clothes with small holes in them? Maybe one or two.

Do you think the way you live is really okay? I think I am already quite fortunate with what I have considering what others don’t, so it’s definitely been a while since I have complained about anything during this whole Covid situation, living-situation-wise. Even though we’ve lost a few things, like having to sell one of our cars and with my mom being retrenched, we still get by and have a roof over our heads with working water and electricity and a stocked pantry; and I make enough money to hand a portion of it to my parents twice a month and still treat myself with things I want. There is nothing to bitch about.

Do you know anyone other than a cop who has ever owned a cop car? No.

Have you ever felt fire? No, but electricity, yes. I’ve been shocked before but that was also my own fault lol.

Have you ever seen a person light themselves on fire? Jesus no.

Have you ever used crutches when you didn't need them? Yes. I used to horse around with Katreen’s crutches when she injured her legs in 3rd grade, when she wasn’t using them.

If you had 15 beers you would be: Dead.

Are you as bored as I am? No, I’m good.

Why are you taking this survey? I feel like it.

What would you say if a person asked you why your face was so messed up? “How do you want me to react?” Easiest way to shut a person up and passive aggressively tell them to watch what they say.

What would you do if your first love asked you back out? Be very confused and ask why the sudden decision.

What's your home life like? It’s very routine, due to having to stay at home. I work a 9–6 on weekdays, follow that up with dinner, and use a few hours to scroll through social media until it’s time to sleep. Then on weekends I use the free time to recharge by taking surveys and watch videos of whoever and whatever I’m interested in at the moment. Just waiting for all of this to blow over so I can finally do the things I’m meant to be doing.

Do you have a talent that you don't do anything with? I don’t write a lot for myself these days. I do write frequently for work, which is great - press releases, event scripts, all your PR essentials - but I don’t get stimulated enough since everything is written in the same tone. I really should pick up a notebook and pen soon...

Do you know anyone that is a lesbian? Yes. Not that she’s in my life anymore.

What do you think about your mom? I think she tries her best. But I wish she were more emotionally in touch. And that she starts being politically correct.

What do you think about your dad? He’s worked hard and continues to, and I appreciate all his efforts; and I can’t wait to be able to buy him all the things he wants.

Which parent do you respect the most? Who do you think? Hahahaha.

Is there anything someone could lie to you about that you couldn't forgive? I suppose, like cheating.

--

Who do you love unconditionally? My two best friends.

Pick an element. Oooookay? Zirconium.

Have you ever wasted a great amount of time and felt horrible about it? It always feels that way on weekends these days because there’s only so much that can be done while stuck at home because of Covid. But I do try to justify it by telling myself I already work too hard during weekdays so it’s ok to bum around at home and do nothing, because using the time to recharge is still productive. 

What is something that's been said about you that isn't true? My mom has said a lot of hurtful things directed towards me that I internalized for a very long time, but I’ve since gained the strength to no longer let those words get to me.

Who do you want with you when you're scared? Anyone who can be calm while I’m not.

Know any bands that not many people have heard of? Many of the punk bands I listen to are virtually unknown on this side of the planet.

Do you have any advice for people in general? Don’t be racist.

What's something you like to do in the summer? Complain about the heat.

What's something you like to do in the winter? We don’t get winter here, but I’ve always thought I would love snow if I ever saw it, and that I would probably make a lot of snow angels and play snowball fights.

What do you think about marijuana? I don’t have a strong opinion on it as it’s still a very taboo topic where I’m from and I’ve also been lacking on research. I do know people who use it for recreational purposes and I’ve never been against that.

Do you wish anyone death? Just politicians.

Have you ever felt like you weren't getting anywhere with a person? Yes, it felt that way for a long time. I just was too afraid of confrontation to do anything about it.

What do you feel for the person you first fell in love with? Resentment and a whole lot of nothing.

Where are you? I’m in my bedroom.

Are you waiting for something? Hmm, not necessarily.

Who is someone you just think has a hole in their brain? People who still think Covid is a hoax.

A candy you like? Gummy anything.

Does any part of your body hurt at the moment? My shoulders and neck, hence the neck pillow I’ve since put on while taking this.

Explain how you got the last bruise you had. I honestly have no clue. I currently have a big black circle on my right thigh that just suddenly showed up, and I can’t recall a time I must’ve hit it somewhere.

Are you tired? A little bit because I got up as soon as I woke up, but I wanted to maximize my free time this Sunday before another work week starts. Last Friday would be our last non-working holiday in a while and we’re not getting another one until August. :(

Explain how you got a scar you have. A distant cousin hurled a glass jar towards me when I was 3, during a family reunion. He initially went for my eye because I guess he wanted to blind me, but he missed and ended up hitting my eyebrow instead. My mom has since banned him from talking to me ever since, and I don’t think I’ve ever even seen him since the incident.

Have you ever owned anything illegal? Illegal copies of movies I’ve torrented, sure.

What do you dream about? The most random scenarios. I’ll get the occasional nightmare, but those only happen when I’m going through a period of depression.

Do you ever daydream? Not anymore these days.

How do you feel about vegetarians? I don’t really think anything of them. There are days I’ll particularly feel for them because there aren’t a lot of restaurants with good vegetarian options where I live, though.

A fruit you like: Avocado, in very limited options.

Have you ever seen a person eat a bug? Only bugs that were already prepared a certain way and meant to be eaten; but I’ve never seen a person that just picked up a bug off the ground and went straight to chewing. I imagine I would freak out and gag.

Something you worry about too much: How much is in my bank account.

How do you feel about smoking? I hate how the smell clings to your clothes and all your things when you’ve been smoking or when you’ve been around people who smoke. I also wince when people pose with their cigarettes just to look badass and cool; but as someone who’s since picked up vaping as a habit, my once-intense hatred for smoking and smokers has since changed lol.

If you had to move out of state, where would you go? I would move to a big city. Somewhere noisier and with a lot of lights and foot traffic and general activity.

What is your favorite vampire-related movie? The Twilight Saga hahahahahaha

Is there a person you keep coming back to? My best friends, I guess?

If you're listening to music...Give me a lyric from the song you're listening to. I’m not listening to anything.

[official-weasley]

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 2, Ch. 2

PART 2: THE YEAR OF MISCHIEF AND SNEAKING AROUND Chapter 2 - A New Year

Nova

In the last week of August, the Weasleys and I met my mum in Diagon Alley just like my mum and Molly planned. We bought our books and got Pip his favorite treats. Charlie and I were drooling and pressing our hands on the window display of Quality Quidditch Supplies.

We then stopped at the café Tulip's mum owned just to find out that Tulip wasn't there but her mum told us that she would tell her to meet us on the Platform 9 ¾ on the 1st September. Molly also took Bill to get new robes as he grew quite a lot over the Summer and Charlie got Bill's old robes. His freckled cheeks turned pink as his mum told that in front of me and my mum but I didn't care.

—

On several occasions, Charlie got embarrassed as he talked about his home or his things, most belonging to Bill before him. I have never seen it as a bad thing that they didn't have as much money as some of the other Pure Blood families. My parents had quite a stock of gold in our Gringotts vault as a Curse Breaker and an Auror but what good did that do me if I didn't see them most of the year.

I would've done anything to have my mum or my dad at home as Molly stayed at home with Charlie and his siblings. Their house was also something that wasn't embarrassing at all. I liked the smell of wood and honeysuckle and I liked the fact that it was a bit cramped. You feel more like a family rather than in a big house.

—

When we got all of our things, my mum said goodbye to me as she had to hurry back to work. She gave me a big hug as tears gathered in her eyes. I knew she felt bad that she wouldn't be able to accompany me to the Station in a week's time and I knew she wanted more than anything to spend my last week out of Hogwarts with me but she couldn't get time off work.

That's why I returned to the Burrow with the Weasleys, something I really didn't mind. I couldn't deny that I missed my mum but being surrounded by such a loving family made me forget just how much I miss spending time with my parents.

On 1st September Molly took me, Bill, and Charlie to the Platform 9 ¾, accompanied by Percy, Fred, and George while Arthur stayed at home with Ron and Ginny as it was a Sunday.

She hugged her sons and wished them a great year at Hogwarts and then she looked at me.

“Oh, Nova dear, it was so nice to have you in our home.” She cupped my cheeks.

“Thank you for having me Molly, I had a great time.” I smiled.

“Have a good year, study hard, and take notes.” She stopped for a second. “Your mum told me to say that to you.” She winked at me. “And take care of my boys, will you? My heart is lighter knowing that they have you, especially Charlie.” She pulled me into a tight embrace.

“Mum!” Charlie frowned, embarrassed.

“Bill, you look after these two. Make sure they stay in line.” She hugged both, Bill and Charlie, again and gave them a soft kiss on the cheek.

We wanted to enter the train when I heard someone calling my name. It was Tulip who was looking all over for us in the crowd. Together we got on the train and found that Tonks and Penny already reserved a compartment for us.

We all hugged and I couldn't help but feel happy as we were all together again. Jae, the Gryffindor Charlie spent time with and spent more time with Tulip and Tonks than any of us by the end of our First Year, joined us for a second but couldn't stay as our compartment already had 6 seats taken.

Tulip started to explain what a mundane Summer she had as she was mostly helping her mum in her coffee shop but she didn't mind as she made quite a lot of money and was saving it for Zonko's Joke Shop next year when we are going to be allowed to go to Hogsmeade for the first time.

Tonks showed us all the scars Merlin gave her over the Summer and we were puzzled as to why her parents didn't use a charm to heal her hands. She admitted that she liked spending the time with the cat after all and that she kicked him off the bed one night as she didn't know he was there and felt sorry for him as he came back to cuddle.

She also told us that 2 out of 4 pranks she planned for her parents succeeded and that to her astonishment her parents still loved her.

Penny gave us a rather short version of her beach vacation as all of us sent her a confused letter when she sent us greetings from Brighton. She instead told us that mum taught her how to brew 3 new potions, 2 of which we won't learn in class for another year. She also told us how annoying her little sister was as she kept bombarding her with questions about Hogwarts and wanted to know when she could meet all of her friends.

It was fun to see the Sorting Ceremony from the House Tables instead of being sorted. Ravenclaw gained 4 new witches and 2 new wizards. Tulip and I couldn't help but reminisce about our Sorting Day and admitted that we don't miss it at all.

After the feast, we went to our dormitories, and much to Tulip and mine's surprise we knew exactly how to get to the Ravenclaw Common Room. Our room was still looking good and still had the best view of the entire castle.

A little before we went to bed, Professor Flitwick gathered us all in the Common Room, giving us our class schedules as tomorrow was Monday and the classes were ready to begin.

Our schedules this year were packed way more than the previous year where we only had 2, max 3 classes per day. Now we had at least 4 classes per day except 3 on Friday.

The schedule read:

Monday – Charms, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology

Tuesday - Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Potions, Double Charms, Astronomy at Midnight

Wednesday – Double Herbology, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic

Thursday – Transfiguration, Double Potions, History of Magic, Herbology, Astronomy at Midnight

Friday – Potions, Charms, Transfiguration

We had classes with the same Houses as last year and even though we knew that we had History of Magic, Tulip and I kind of hoped that the teachers would forget about it and we wouldn't have to go. That, of course, was not the case.

—

I decided that I wouldn't try out for the House Quidditch Team this year just yet. I still felt that I could use a bit of practice and I teased Charlie that I would let him have the Quidditch Cup this year as we would win every year after that with me on the team.

Charlie tried out for the Gryffindor Team but wasn't picked as the Quidditch Captain picked his little brother as Team's Seeker. He was pretty bummed out about it and we had to go to Hagrid's every day after school for almost a week so Hagrid could cheer him up by telling us stories about different creatures he encountered or owned at any point in his life.

Penny, of course, loved the fact that we had so much more school work and Potions 3 times per week made her heart pump faster.

Tonks however made me and Charlie question our prediction that she would wait until the end of the year to have a breakdown as she already refused to do her homework. She and Penny got into constant fights because Penny couldn't understand how she doesn't care about homework one bit and Tonks didn't understand why she cared so much about it.

I did pretty well and kept up with most of my schoolwork. Penny only had to help me with one of my Potions essays and Tulip and I always did Astronomy homework immediately after class. It did mean that we stayed up almost all night since Astronomy classes were at Midnight but we enjoyed each other's company and the little chats we had together as we didn't have the opportunity to spend that much time alone outside of class.

She was sneaking around the Castle with Tonks and Jae most of the days as I spent my time with either Penny or Charlie by the Lake, at Hagrid's, in the Owlery with Pip, or in the Courtyard, which was still my favorite place to draw.

It seemed that Charlie rarely left Hagrid's and I am sure he wouldn't even do that if it wasn't for me and he wanted to spend time with me. As Second Years, we were allowed to bring our own brooms to school and when the weather was nice Charlie liked to practice his flying by the Lake, me throwing a ball for him to catch.

—

One Tuesday it so happened that we had a free period when we were supposed to have Herbology. Apparently, one of the Forth Years accidentally angered a plant and it trapped them in the Herbology classroom resulting in our class being rescheduled for next week. As Tulip and I wandered around the Castle, we decided to see what was so bad about the girl's bathroom on the Second Floor.

See, the day before, we heard a couple of Slytherin girls from the year above us say that they are never going in there again and that they wouldn't wish it upon their worst enemy to get locked in there and that said a lot about Slytherins.

My school bag was unusually heavy that day but I didn't pay attention to it as I was sure that I misread the schedule and put an extra book in there.

When we got to the bathroom it looked quite normal to us. We knocked and nothing happened. We peeked inside and it didn't smell bad or seem in any way out of the ordinary.

We took a deep breath and went in, eyes closed as we were expecting something bad to happen. We thought we came upon a completely normal-looking bathroom and almost left but then we heard something in one of the bathroom stalls. We stopped, turned around and listened carefully.

It sounded like a girl was crying and for a second we were really mad at Slytherins for making fun out of a crying girl.

All of a sudden a ghost of a girl came through the door of one of the cubicles. She looked at us startled as much as we looked at her in shock. At first, she looked quite happy to see us. She told us that her name is Myrtle and that she lives in the bathroom. We didn't see anything wrong with that until Tulip made a very big mistake. She asked her what happened to her.

Myrtle burst into tears and started to cry rather loudly. After the crying stopped she started screaming and became angry and just as we were about to leave, the belt on my bag ripped and I heard something broke inside it.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Tulip whispered as she was quite taken aback by Myrtle.

“I have no idea.” I replied as I watched Myrtle getting closer to my bag.

I took a deep breath and ran towards it. I had my drawing notebook in there and I didn't know much about ghosts so I didn't know if Myrtle could ruin it or not. I grabbed my bag and out fell something that looked a lot like a...

“Dungbomb! Nova run!” Yelled Tulip and opened the bathroom door.

We got out just in time and as the doors were closing, we saw how the bomb exploded straight into Myrtle's face as she was too slow to realize what we were running away from.

We ran down the corridor and all the way to the Great Hall and when we finally caught our breath did we manage to understand what happened. We knew we were supposed to feel bad but just by exchanging looks, we burst out laughing.

We laughed so hard that I was beginning to feel cramps in my stomach and Tulip was clapping in a way that reminded me of a clapping seal.

Our friends ran to us, asking what was going on and upon telling them how we sneaked in and detonated a Dungbomb on a crying ghost, Tonks finally spoke.

“No! I was saving that for tomorrow!” She got sad.

“Wait, the bomb was yours?” My face puzzled. “What was it doing in my bag?” I frowned at her.

“Well, you take care of your bag the most as your drawing notebook is inside and I needed a safe place for it until tomorrow to execute my plan.” Tonks' face was as pink as her hair. “See, I wanted to hide the bomb from myself as I knew I wouldn't be able to resist using it today rather than tomorrow.” She explained.

“And you put it in my bag? The bag that has my most prized notebook inside?” I was trying to keep my voice as normal as possible. “What if I didn't grab the bag and the bomb went off with my notebook still inside?” My eyes narrowed.

“Blimey Nova, I'm sorry. I did package the bomb carefully but I didn't think about that.” She scratched her nose.

I couldn't be angry at her, not after what Tulip and I just witnessed, especially because my notebook was alright.

We had to tell the story again as our whole lot laughed, including Penny who wanted to feel sorry for Myrtle but the whole incident was just too funny. Tonks, however, promised that she would never put anything that would either rip or ruin any contents inside my bag ever again as I sewed it back together with a spell.

I spent most of my weekends after lunch with Charlie by the Lake. We got a few new books from Hagrid as he reckoned we were ready for them. While reading them out loud to each other, we usually daydreamed about playing Quidditch and we couldn't wait until the end of the school year when the Second Year students had to pick Elective Subjects as we already knew one of them was going to be Care of Magical Creatures.

Bill sometimes joined us, however, Charlie and I both thought that he was daydreaming about a girl rather than creatures and that he joined us as an excuse to keep an eye on us. Pip also accompanied us to the Lake often and was quite surprised when I started drawing other creatures, inspired by my Self-Doodler rather than him. Serves him right for not wanting to pose for me over the Summer.