#well okay i have like what four or five of those but read the text again and think really really hard about it. i'm just kidding i'm goofing

[fionnaskyborn]

there's something to be said about the very specific feeling of frailty you feel when you come face to face with just how little you've experienced. twenty-odd years on planet earth and you haven't really watched all that many movies. an unlived life facing an uncertain future. i do not know where to point the finger of blame because i live untethered from my past, floating in the present with no clear point of reference no clear definition of who i am or what happened to me and how i turned out the way i am (fucking. can you guess why five is my favorite game. insert that one lyric from that one modest mouse song.) but you're still here, and you can still learn, and you can catch up, but it still feels like you're a pitiful little nobody looking for excuses trying to explain why you're still new to the whole being alive thing. i've got a good head on my shoulders, though, for all that's worth, so i think i might be fine.

in other news, i watched scarface tonight. it was certainly a movie. don't really understand how the movie made it big, but it did have some damn good music. i mean, i don't know. i'm still learning about the world i live in. maybe it really is as much of a masterpiece as people make it out to be and i'm too dumb to see the reason why it's considered a classic. maybe i'm right. i can't tell at the moment. it's kind of a beggars can't be choosers situation - if you ain't watched that many movies, then you can't really be a good judge of quality. but, oh, well. it's one more movie watched. it's a win because i watched a movie. and i'll watch more movies.

[httpknjoon]

(re)starting over again | kth; 14

plot | Your four-year relationship with Taehyung was going well and strong. Until he was involved in a car accident, resulting to him losing some memories. By some, it means everything that happened five years ago. Things he remember? His friends, his bakeshop, and his ex girlfriend from the past. With that, you tried to keep up, restarting over again.

words | 4.9K+

genres | fluff, angst, amnesia au

pairing | taehyung x reader, hoseok x reader

note | *cue that tiktok sound* okay, guys. we're back. did you miss us? hi! I'm back with my monthly update 💀 I already outlined everything. there are six chapters left in this series (not including the drabbles). thank you so much for patiently staying around. i appreciate y'all a lot. let me know your thoughts, enjoy reading!

main masterlist | series masterlist

When did texting someone become so hard?

It has been exactly three days since Taehyung got to talk to you again. He offered to drive you home after your date failed to show up. You said yes. You two had a friendly conversation in his car. Like you were old friends, which you were. But were you? It’s complicated. For the first time in years, he heard your laugh and saw you smile just like in the photos he saw when cleaning up at your shared house. He remembered you waving at him with a soft smile on your lips before getting into your apartment building.

You also said you never changed your number and you would reach out. But he wants to update you about the small celebration the bakery will have later next week. He tried typing something but later erased it before he could even finish the first word. He doesn’t know what to type or how to begin a conversation. So he just typed a single character and hit the send button.

It was past six in the evening. You were already in your PJs after a long day at work. Treating yourself with dumplings and beef fried rice from the nearest Chinese restaurant in your area, you let yourself indulge while your favorite sitcom plays on your TV screen.

“You’re not easy-going, but you’re passionate, and that’s good. And when you get upset about the little things, I think that I’m pretty good about making you feel better about that. And that’s good too. So, they can say that you’re high maintenance, but it’s okay because I like…maintaining you.”

You found yourself pursing your lips when your favorite character said that line. It was one of the quotes that stays in the back of your head almost every time. You were about to reach for the remote control to play it back again. But your phone, which you set into silent mode an hour ago, vibrated. Your eyebrows shoot up as you read who sent you a message.

From Jung Hoseok

Hi, YN. I really regret missing our date last time. Would you be willing to give me another chance with a cup of coffee this Friday? I know a great cafe around the city 🙂

The day after he failed to show up at the restaurant, you woke up to a text message from Hoseok apologizing again. You reassured him that you understood and he promised to make it up to you. You didn’t really expect anything from that and thought that he would just pass by like your past dates that Martha set up. So seeing him reaching out again was unexpected.

You smiled as you typed a reply.

To Jung Hoseok

Will there be tea? I don’t drink coffee.

You see those three dots immediately popping in, indicating that he’s typing. So you quickly typed in a follow-up message.

To Jung Hoseok

Just kidding! I’m okay with Friday. Around 5 PM?

He was quick to reply,

From Jung Hoseok

Okay. Should I pick you up?

You thought you would just feel pressured if he picked you up at your home. So you just offered an alternative.

To Jung Hoseok

We can just meet there :) Just send me the cafe’s location.

From Jung Hoseok

[location pin] 

To Jung Hoseok

Thank you! See you this Friday then.

From Jung Hoseok

See you, YN!

That’s a date for Friday, which is a few days from now. Even though he reached out again, you thought of keeping your expectations low. Because it helps avoid disappointment. You probably learned after your last dates with those guys you met before.

You continued playing the episode you were watching. Not even five minutes later, your phone vibrated again. You thought Hoseok forgot something. But immediately after reading the contact name, you froze staring at your screen.

From Aaa Love

👋

Of course, you quickly recognized who it was. Suddenly, you felt a sense of nostalgia in your head after seeing that name for a long time. Years after keeping this contact hidden on your list, you totally forgot that you never changed his contact name even after the accident. You cannot even remember when you hid his name in your list. Maybe it was one of those nights you were drunk with friends and made some decisions.

Before replying, you renamed the contact.

To Kim Taehyung

Hi, Tae 🙂

While waiting for his reply, you recalled that night. You remembered feeling good entering your apartment even though your date didn’t show up. When Jisoo asked you how it went through a video chat, you said that the date didn’t happen.

“Then, why do you look happy?” she asked that time.

That’s when you snapped out of your daze, “D-Do I?”

“Yeah, you’ve been smiling ever since we got on this call.”

“Oh…” your lips formed a thin line before speaking again. “I… I saw an old friend in the same restaurant.”

The last time you and Jisoo really talked about Taehyung was still the time she showed up unexpectedly after her wedding. You cried, she cried.

“Really? Who?”

“Taehyung.”

You wait for her reaction and you gradually see her eyes widen.

“What? What is he doing there? Did you talk?” she asked with surprise in her tone.

“Apparently, he’s doing some business here. And yes, we talked. He offered to drive me home.” you shared.

“And?”

“It was nice.”

Your simple and short answer had Jisoo simply staring at you through the screen. It was like she was studying you. You knew she had a lot to say in her head based on her quiet reaction. But then, she just said,

“Okay.”

From Kim Taehyung

Hello, YN. Just making sure I have the right number here haha

Taehyung finally replied. You let the episode play in the background as you tap on your screen,

To Kim Taehyung

I told you I didn’t change it!

From Kim Taehyung

I know, I’m sorry hehe

Just by the text, you can imagine him awkwardly laughing as he says that. Before you can reply, another text popped in.

From Kim Taehyung

Btw the celebration will be in the bakeshop. Next Saturday, 2 PM.

From Kim Taehyung

It’s a late lunch event with friends and family. We’re hoping you can come 😊

Reading that, a smile formed on your lips. With you working at school, you are usually free on weekends. 

To Kim Taehyung

Will do!

“Can you put dinosaurs in it?”

“Of course, bud. Anything you like.”

Taehyung softly ruffled Jihoon’s hair, who remained focused on coloring his activity book. The little kid’s birthday is coming up soon and the preparations for it had begun. Since Jimin would be the one making the multi-layered birthday Jurassic-themed cake, Taehyung offered to make the cupcakes. 

A couple of toys, specifically, dinosaurs, are all over the table that Jihoon and Taehyung occupy. And ever since he arrived at the shop this morning, the kid kept talking about his favorite animal. Being the best uncle that he is, Taehyung listens while being quietly amazed by how much Jihoon knows about dinosaurs. 

“Ashley just sent a copy of the contract in our e-mail earlier. She wants us to review it first before finalizing.” Jimin spoke while placing an apple juice box on the table.

Jihoon scoots a little to accommodate his father sitting next to him. He stayed busy with his crayons. 

“Have you read it?” Jimin asked.

Taehyung shakes his head, “I haven’t. I think I left my phone on silent while doing those lemon tarts.”

“Well, I think you should read it. They put something they probably forgot to mention before.” his friend noted.

His eyebrows draw together before reaching for his phone. Taehyung immediately clicked on the file sent to him from Ashley. He carefully read word by word written in the document. He thought everything was already mentioned in their online meeting days after he went to Incheon. Until he read one of the sections of the contract.

Staffing Arrangements

The bakery agrees to temporarily assign one of its capable bakers to work at the restaurant in Incheon for four weeks, beginning on the first day of offering the pastries on the menu of the restaurant. During this time, the assigned baker will head pastry production, equip training for restaurant staff, and guarantee regular quality control. The restaurant agrees to cover the entrusted baker's salary, expenses, and even housing if demanded.

After pausing for a few seconds, Taehyung scanned his eyes all over that part again. Just to make sure he understood it right. He looked back up to Jimin, who had his arms crossed over his chest while waiting for a reaction from him.

“So?”

“This means one of us had to stay here while the other had to manage around in Incheon.”

September is usually dry and warmer in Incheon.

After living in this part of the country for around two years now, you already got better at predicting the weather and climate. But today, your predictions were proven wrong when you had to stay under a waiting shed while the harsh raindrops poured continuously. You were too confident that you left your umbrella at home.

4:12 PM

You looked down at your phone. It has been almost thirty minutes since you stood in this shed, waiting for your usual bus to arrive. But you don’t know why there have only been two buses that passed by. You were unable to get on any of those since both were packed, considering the unexpected rainfall. You tried booking a cab but there’s nothing around your area at the moment. Your friend, Aileen already left earlier with her husband while Martha offered to drive you home but you live almost twenty minutes away from her. So, you kindly rejected her offer. Again, you were too confident that you would be able to ride the bus quickly.

Puffing your cheeks, you began dialing someone’s number. He answered after the second ring.

“Hey, Hoseok…” you greeted.

He was quick to reply, “Hi, are you on your way? I’m driving to the cafe.”

“Yeah, uhm, I’m kinda running late for our date tonight.” you chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of your head. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, it’s okay. Everything alright?” 

“Haha, yeah. Just waiting for a bus to stop by here the school. It’s raining like crazy today.” you mentioned.

“Yeah, it is… you know, I can pick you up if you want to.” he offered.

Your eyebrows lifted, “Really?”

“Of course, YN.”

“Okay, thank you so much!” you smiled, finally.

“No worries. I’m on my way.”

“Okay, take care,” you said before ending the call.

With your plans of getting ready pre-date at your home canceled, you sat on one of the benches in the shed and touched up yourself quickly. You reapplied your lipstick with your front camera as your mirror. You ran your hand through the stubborn flyaways of your hair before tying it into the easiest half-up, half-down hairstyle you know. You’re still in your usual work clothes, a statement T-shirt (with a friendly and maybe corny quote written on it and jeans. Originally, you would wear something cuter. But this one will do. Even though the cool breeze makes you wish you wore something warmer too.

And less than five minutes later, a black Audi stops right in front of the stop. Your legs bounced restlessly. The windows were tinted dark so you cannot really see who’s inside. But the door on the other side of the car opened and there, you recognized the man from the pictures on Martha’s phone. Almost like sunshine, his smile as he made his way to you made you smile too. Your fidgeting legs had already calmed down as he stopped in front of you.

“YN?” He asked since this was the first time you two really saw each other.

You nodded, “Hi. You’re Hoseok, right?”

Although you were at ease with his arrival, there was still an awkward tension between you two. But it tones down when you two chuckled.

“Yes, nice to meet you.” he smiled again. He quickly noticed you hugging yourself. “It’s cold. How about let’s get you inside?”

“Sounds good.” you agreed.

Joining him under his transparent umbrella, your shoulders brushed against each other, and you could feel his warmth beside you. He opened the car door for you while ensuring no raindrop would touch your skin. You mumbled a small ‘thank you’ when you finally got to sit inside. You watched as he made his way back to the driver’s side of the car.

“Are you okay? Everything’s fine?” he asked immediately.

“Yeah, thank you again for picking me up,” you replied. 

“You’re welcome,” he replied before reaching for something from the backseat. 

Your eyes widened when you saw what it was. It was like your eyes sparkled as he handed you the small bouquet of yellow tulips, tied with a matching gold ribbon. 

“I’m really sorry for missing our date last time.” he apologized, watching you appreciate the flowers.

It has been so long since you received flowers. You cannot even remember when was the last time. So you cannot help but feel this funny feeling in your stomach while you look at the flowers. Especially since yellow tulips are your favorite.

“You didn’t have to. I understand why,” you spoke, tilting your head in his direction. Your voice was small and soft.

“Still, you waited for me alone in that restaurant. I cancelled last minute… Do you love it?”

“Of course, I love yellow tulips!” you exclaimed before taking in its subtle scent.

“I’m glad. I may or may not have asked Martha for help with those.” he chuckled.

Hoseok began driving while you find it more comfortable being around him. He has this infectious smile that brings more warmth in this rainy weather. It probably helps when he’s with patients.

“How long have you been waiting there?” he asked, starting up a conversation.

“Oh, you know, like half an hour.” you sneered at yourself. You hear him gasp. You chuckled, “To be fair, it is a rainy day. I can usually find a ride easily. I just didn’t expect that it would rain today.”

“It’s usually sunny at this time of the year,” he noted.

“It is. I was already waiting for the bus when the rain poured,” you told him. 

“I thought you and Martha usually go home together?” he asked, looking from the road to you for a quick second.

“Sometimes. But I feel bad for making her drive past her house for like twenty minutes,” you revealed. 

You tried offering to pay for her gas but she declined. Although she constantly assured you that it’s fine, you feel like an inconvenience, especially after a busy day at work. You are very aware it’s a you problem. But it’s just the way it is.

You shifted in your seat, “How about you? Did you have work today?”

He nods, “Ah, yes. I got off my shift earlier this day. Then went home to see my dog before dropping her off at my sister’s.”

“Oh, you have a dog?”

“Yeah, a senior dog but Mickey’s still the family’s baby.” he chuckled. “We take turns with her. Some days, she’s with me. Or my sister’s or my parents’.”

“So, you’re originally from here in Incheon?” you asked, curious when he mentioned his family.

He shakes his head, “No, we moved here when I was in high school. I left during college. Then, came back when I began working. I like staying close to my family. And you?”

“No, I moved here from Seoul two years ago.” you shared.

“And what about your family? They stayed there?” he asked.

“Nope, I’m an only child. My parents died years ago– Please, don’t say you’re sorry. It’s fine, it’s been so long.” you chuckled when you saw how his expression changed. “But I do have my Aunty Belle. She’s around the city too. She looked after me until I left to study in SNU.”

“You went to SNU too?” Hoseok exclaimed.

You beamed, “Yes– Wait, we’re here?”

He laughed, “Yeah.”

Distracted, you didn’t notice the car arriving in front of the cafe Hoseok talked about. He told you to wait for him, leaving the car with the umbrella. He opened the car door for you and helped you with the umbrella. He does the same thing when opening the cafe’s front door for you. And when a bell clangs when the door opens, you get reminded of your favorite bakeshop back in Seoul.

“I’ll be having iced americano and a slice of carrot cake. How ‘bout you?” Hoseok turned to you as you two stood in front of the staff.

“I’ll have green tea and banana muffins,” you answered.

After ordering, you two sat on one of the empty pearly white tables and chairs near the glass window while waiting. It was a well-lit place. It has a minimalist and clean aesthetic. Hoseok sat across you, tapping his fingers along to the music playing in the background.

“So, what made you agree to do this blind date?” you asked him.

“Well, I’ve been single for the last three months and I never really tried blind dating before so I said yes when Martha told me about you,” he answered.

“Well, I hope she said nice things.” you two chuckled.

“Don't worry, she did.” He assured you. “How about you?”

“Martha had been setting me up for blind dates these past few months because I’ve been single ever since I came here in Incheon. The last dates I went to were unsuccessful so she promised that this one was gonna be great. So I agreed for the last time.” you told him.

“And so far, how is this one going?” he asked cheekily.

You pretended to think for a second, humming as you rubbed your chin. He laughed.

“It’s going great. You get plus points for my favorite flowers.” you smiled.

“Even though I didn't show up last time?”

He seemed really apologetic about that. He brought it up again for the nth time even though you already told him countless times that it’s okay.

You puffed, “Hoseok, it's fine. I really do understand. I used to work at a hospital, things can get a little spontaneous. No worries about it.”

A staff member came with your orders. She carefully placed your drinks and food on your table. You can feel your shoulders relaxing as you feel the warmth of the tea on your tongue when you take a sip from the cup.

“How was it?”

You smiled, “Nice. Perfect for a rainy day. How did you find this place? I don't think I ever reached this part of the city.”

“This is the only open cafe I see whenever I get off from my shift very late at night. I love their coffee here.” 

You nodded while taking a bite from the banana muffin you ordered. And you quickly recognized its difference from your usual banana muffin. You look at Hoseok who's enjoying his cake.

“How was it?” he asked, pointing his fork at your muffins.

“This feels a little dry and the texture’s a bit rough,” you whispered, not really wanting the nice lady at the cashier to hear you.

You don't want to be critical. But you just got used to having a soft and fluffy banana muffin or even bread with the right amount of sweetness in it.

He leaned a bit forward, mirroring you, “Really?” 

“Yeah, seems like it had a lot of flour,” you added before offering him one of the muffins.

You watched him take a bite and chew on it. After gulping it down, you wait for his opinion.

“It is dry.” he nods before putting the muffin down. “You seem to know a lot about bread. Do you bake?”

No, but I know someone who put his heart out and is a perfectionist in baking.

Instead of saying that, you shake your head.

“Oh, no. But I do love a lot of bread and pastries. I just know friends who bake back in Seoul.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. We probably didn't get to discuss that in the meeting we had.” 

Taehyung, along with Jimin, sat at the same table since that morning. Jihoon’s mom already picked him up earlier and the shop was already sold out by 5 PM so they closed early. Now, they are just having a call with Ashley about the contract.

“So, it means that based here on the contract, you want one of us to stay there in Incheon to oversee the pastries.” Jimin clarified.

“Yes, we just want to make sure that the quality of the products will be the same as what you have there in Seoul. Also, we thought that it might be better for our crew members to personally learn about it from the baker himself.” Ashley explained through the call set in loudspeaker mode.

Jimin looked at Taehyung who nods with that. This time, Taehyung has a question.

“You said that there would be a salary?” 

“Yes. There would be a separate salary for the baker who will be staying here with us for four weeks. And since traveling from Seoul to Incheon can be a hassle, if you want to, we can also provide temporary accommodation with complete furniture. My husband runs a condominium business here so the accommodation would be on one of his buildings.”

Both of the men’s jaws dropped with that information. Their eyes were wide as they met each other's gaze. They definitely didn't expect that information from her. They were unaware of how rich she was. They just know that she runs a great restaurant in Incheon.

Jimin cleared his dry throat, “Okay, thank you for clarifying it. But we hope you can still wait before we sign the contract since me and my friend still have to talk about it.” 

“Sure, of course. Just reach out to us whatever your decision is.”

“Thank you. Have a great night.”

As soon as Jimin ended the call, the two exchanged looks.

“So?” Taehyung began.

Jimin shakes his head, “I can't. Jihoon just began going to school. You know what my co-parenting arrangements with his mom are.” 

Taehyung nods. After learning about Jihoon’s existence, Jimin wanted to make up for those years he missed. He was hands-on in everything that his son takes part in. He is also helping Jihoon’s mom in looking after him since she is currently working in a nine-to-five job.

“It's fine with me. I went on vacation there once. It's nice there. Plus, we can split the salary.” He commented. 

And he didn't really have any obligations here in Seoul. Unlike his best friend. It would be easier and better if he went. Jimin can manage the shop while taking care of Jihoon. Taehyung is flexible in working everywhere. 

“It would also be nice to stay in a new place.”

“No, but the living finances in Seoul are really more expensive than here.”

You don't sure how long has it been since you and Hoseok arrived here in the cafe. You already finished your tea while the ice on his drink has already melted. The only muffin left was half-eaten. The plate of his carrot cake was already on your after he let you finish it when he noticed that you liked it after giving you a taste.

“It is. That's also another reason why I came back here.” Hoseok exclaimed. “I can't stand living with another careless roommate again.”

You laughed when he referenced his bad roommate experience he told you earlier. Hoseok has been funny and nice ever since he picked you up today. He talked about Mickey, his life back in Seoul, and a little bit about his family.

“But you said you stayed in Seoul after graduating, right?” he recalled.

“Yes, I did.”

“How? Did you live alone?”

“At first, I became roommates with my best friend there, who’s also a nurse. That lasted for a couple of years... Then, I moved in with the guy I was dating at the time.” You told him.

“Like in his apartment?”

You shake your head, “We bought a house.”

His jaw dropped, “You bought a house? In Seoul?!”

“Yeah, we did some research and saved up for it starting from our first anniversary. Apparently, foreclosed properties are cheap there.” You shared it like a fact.

Taehyung was the first one to bring up the idea of living together a few weeks before your anniversary. After talking about it, you two did some research and went to a lot of open houses. Then, you found out about foreclosed properties. Taehyung and you looked in about four foreclosed houses before landing on the one you called home. 

“What happened to the house after you broke up?” He asked.

You purse your lips, “He's living in it. But we agreed to talk about it soon.”

How soon is soon though?

“So it was a good breakup?”

“Yeah. I guess so.” 

The last sentence was almost a whisper by the end. You cleared your throat as if something was stuck in it. It was your turn to ask.

“How about you? How was your last relationship?”

Hoseok leaned back on his chair, crossing his arm over his chest, “It was great for the most part. We’ve been together for only one year. I actually proposed to her.”

Your eyebrows scrunched together, “Really? What happened?”

“We had a lot of misunderstandings in the last months of our relationship. It can be about everything. But mostly, she gets mad whenever I have an emergency in the hospital and I understand that. So one day, we harshly broke up during a fight before I left for work.”

“So it's a bad breakup?” 

“Yeah, a bit bitter.” He sneered. “But at least I don't share any property with her.”

It was a teasing remark to lighten up the mood. You grimaced and rolled your eyes. He laughed.

“The lady was too kind to ask us to go,” you said as Hoseok drove.

The moment you and Hoseok realized that the rain had stopped and the sky was already dark, you two got up and left. Hoseok insisted on paying, even playfully threatening to throw your wallet away if you ever pulled it out of your pocket.

“I’m sure she doesn't mind. She gave us free cupcakes.” He replied, pointing to the box resting on your lap.

“Are you sure you don't want to take this?” you asked because he handed you the box as soon as the lady gave it.

“Yeah, just update me with your review about it. I'm interested to hear more about your thoughts.”

You bit your lip from hearing that, “Okay.”

After a few minutes of listening (and singing along) to songs that played in his stereo, you arrived in front of your building. Of course, Hoseok opened your door for you. He helped you with the bag you brought to school so you could carry the flowers and cupcakes.

“Should I help you to your apartment?” He asked while you slid your bag into your arm, struggling. 

You gave up, letting him take your bag and the cupcakes, “Okay. Come in.”

You opened the door to your building and led the way to the stairs. He assured you that he was okay as you kept on looking back at him. And when you unlocked your apartment, you turned around.

"Do you want to go inside? Water, juice, or anything to drink?” You offered before putting the things on the counter near your door.

He smiled, “It's fine, I can't stay for too long. My next shift is at nine. I just want to make sure you'll make it to your door without dropping any of those.”

You looked down at your watch, “Oh my god. It’s already past eight. You should go! I should've taken a cab.”

“YN, it's okay! It's still early.” he chuckled. “Plus, I had a really great time talking with you.”

Your stomach flutters, looking at him. You noticed the same smile you saw earlier.

“I hope this isn't the last time we'll go out.”

You nodded, “Of course. Martha did it right this time.”

“How about next weekend? Sunday?” he asked.

“Sure, I’ll be back from Seoul by then.” 

His eyebrows raised, “Really? I’m going to be in Seoul for a conference on Saturday. When are you coming there?”

“The same day! I’m going to visit some friends.”  

“Maybe we can go there in Seoul together? So you don't have to commute.” He offered.

“That sounds good!” You agreed before looking down at your watch again. “But I think you should go now. I know you still have to do stuff before going to work.”

“Okay. Let's just talk about it later.” 

“Okay. Thank you for the flowers and everything, Hoseok,” you state before leaning in to give a quick kiss on his cheek.

He smiles, “You're welcome, YN. Tonight was great.”

“Text me when you make it to the hospital. Drive safely! Good night.”  You said as he walked back.

“Good night, YN.” He waved before walking down the stairs.

You closed the door to your apartment before leaning your back on it, looking at the yellow tulips on the counter.

What a lovely night.

taglist rules

RESTARTING OVER AGAIN TAGLIST [CLOSED]

@iamkookiesforyou @aianloveseven @hoodalmighty @taebangtanbabe @nooojaaam @hiimnothing @annenakamura @taebangtanbabe @shin-ie @prlan @starlight-night0 @teddybeartaetae @http-fayeradise​ @tannies-luv @betysotelo18 @honsoolgloss @aurorathi @paulaaa97 @satisfied18 @telepathytae @talkyoongitome @sofilsword @rengoku1missu

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[esamastation]

Shizuroth, part twenty-one

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty

-

For the first time in what feels like a lifetime, Sephiroth sends out a text message.

After an evening and night spent meditating, reading and cultivating, figuring out the ins and outs of his hardened meridian system and going through the files Genesis had had delivered to him, Sephiroth's come to the conclusion that meditation isn't enough. He needs to condition his body properly, and that means forms, that means movements - that means he really misses easy access to all the collected cultivation manuals of Qing Jing Peak's impressive libraries.

Ultimately what it really means is that he needs more space than his single room apartment has.

"If we're banned from the training room, where can I go train?"

"Goddess beyond, Sephiroth, it's supposed to be your day off," Genesis replies and then, soon after, "Just go to the training room. Who could stop you?"

He's really not sure about training in front of people. "Is that really the only option?"

"Well, you could do what you always do and just take a mission."

Mission, like the dozen or so on his phone involving Wutai? Which had a lot of kill everyone and exterminate the opposition and leave no one alive!?

Yeah, okay. Training room it is, then!

After carefully selecting an outfit that would look reasonably in character for the future Big Bad while also being a bit more comfortable than three different things of leather. And he still pulls on the, now slightly better fitting, leather coat with its huge shoulder guards, too! He should look… more or less in character.

People still stare as he makes his way through floor 49, other SOLDIERs in their much more comfortable looking uniforms and not so comfortable looking helmets. There's a handful of them hanging around, sitting by the window or chatting, SOLDIER Seconds and Thirds waiting for assignments. There are some people in lab coats hanging around there too, just as a reminder of the true nature of the program.

Sephiroth had read about that too - everything Genesis had sent him about SOLDIER and the things he is supposed to already know. 

SOLDIER, as much as they are the elite warriors of Shinra, their OP human weapons in the war to conquer the planet… are also lab rats. They'd all signed up on it in order to get those enhancements, and now Shinra's Science Department can do… just about whatever they want with them!

They're constantly being tested for performance and given experimental training, treatments and gear to test out. Almost all Materia and medicine Shinra produces goes through SOLDIER field testing before going into mass production. Because it's better that it's a SOLDIER dealing with the fallout if the Materia blows up in his face or the medicine makes him projectile vomit. They can handle it!

Ah, corporate dystopia with minimal human rights. Fun stuff.

Sephiroth walks past them all, barely acknowledging them, and aims for the training room. Which… really seems more like a testing ground, now that there's actual personnel there.

There's no one in the training room itself - but there are two technicians in the observatory adjacent.

"S-Sephiroth!" a lab technician stutters as he enters  - the only way into the training room goes through the observatory, past all the monitoring equipment and computers. "What can we do for you?"

"I want to train," Sephiroth says in his best villain drawl, motioning to the training room with Masamune.

"Ah, that's - director Deusericus told us -"

Sephiroth narrows his eyes. "Oh, so I can't?"

The second lab tech elbows the first out of the way. "Of course you can, of course! Professor Hojo would be thrilled to have your training data," he assures, though the words are clearly aimed, very pointedly, at the other tech. "What kind of program settings would you like? We have a selection of new enemy AI and different environments - including numerous Wutai-inspired sequences!"

Sephiroth hesitates. That… could be interesting, actually. "Something from Wutai, with buildings - no enemies." That might give him a sense of what Wutai was like, culture-wise.

"... How are you going to train without enemies?"

Do SOLDIER not do forms? "Hmph," Sephiroth answers and turns to the training room, waving the electronic sliding door open. "Just start the simulation."

Seems like he got his villainous demanding attitude right, because they do. Seems like short and to the point is really the best way to hide a supposed amnesia!

Soon Sephiroth finds himself standing in a courtyard of what looks vaguely like some noble family's estate, feeling strangely like he's in a dream where everything is just a little bit off.

The simulation is… well, it kind of feels like a weird amusement park version of Asia, a mix of Japanese and Chinese aesthetics. The buildings have Japanese architecture for the most part, with bare unpainted wood and stone - but the roofs are all elaborate hip roofs. The written language, what little he can see of it, is in Mandarin, but the calligraphy style is very Japanese, very lyrical and artistic but without much form.

There's no bamboo in sight. Shame.

But at least the false environment makes it feel a little less like he's being watched - though he can still tell he is. Even with Sephiroth's burnt spiritual veins, he has pretty good senses.

Well, it's not like he hasn't trained with an audience before.

Unsheathing Masamune, Sephiroth holds the sheath in his off hand and takes a pose, breathing deeply in and concentrating. He still can't quite circulate his Qi, but he can sort it… flash it through himself in pulses, which lights up his meridian system and brings out the faults and snags therein.

Sephiroth is strong, hardy, seemingly endlessly durable. He's also fast, his overactive muscles easily going past the limitations of your usual normal human conditions. The issue is not quite his overall flexibility - but his… suppleness, maybe?

You need your veins to flex and contract for healthy circulation, and that's the same with energy. Thanks to the Mako treatments and the emphasis on stamina and strength, Sephiroth's whole system is just… hard. Every part of him is hardened to endure who knows what, and it gives his meridian system very little give. 

So that's what his form needs to focus on, increasing his meridian system's pliancy.  

All the while wondering if all SOLDIERs were working with these kinds of toughened meridians, Sephiroth pulses his energy and begins to move. Qing Jing Peak sword forms work well enough for him, it turns out - as spiritual cultivators, they also have to maintain certain spiritual flexibility, after all. He needs to adjust the forms to the sword he has, but that's not too difficult. A lot of spiritual swordsmen use sword glares to extend the shape and size of their cutting edge, so the forms already have some wiggle room.

Soon Sephiroth has a set of moves that work the best, making his pulses of energy work better and better, until his whole meridian system buzzes, active and alive. He can even feel the beginnings of activity in his frankly neglected dantians, as energy wooshes through him in waves. It feels… pretty great.

What he doesn't know is that on the outside it looks rather like Sephiroth just activated a Limit Break - by will alone.

-

Someone making waves, hehe

[luciddownloading]

Tarot Reading: What Are Their Current Feelings For You?

What is your person currently feeling for you? Choose the image below that you feel most drawn to and then scroll to your respective pile. It is fine to choose more than one pile. You're amazing and attractive. So, it wouldn't be a shock if more than one person comes through :)

My advice for these readings: Don't stress, don't obsess. The person who is meant for you will come your way and anyone else can be viewed as a valuable lesson. Also, please use/trust your intuition/inner judgment. Take what resonates!

PILE 1

PILE 2

PILE 3

///////////////////////////////////////

(Clarifying cards in parentheses)

PILE 1

Six of Swords - reversed

(Four of Pentacles)

Ten of Pentacles

(Ace of Wands - reversed)

Three of Swords

(Nine of Wands - reversed)

Five of Swords - reversed

(Three of Wands)

Eight of Wands - reversed

Okay, Pile 1, your person is quite all over the place. I am immediately getting Gemini vibes from this pile as well as Virgo. Not even because of any cards that came out. Just the energy I am picking up. So either of those signs could be their Sun, Moon, Rising, if that's confirmation. I say that because their mental energy is incredibly overactive. A smart cookie but the cookie is crumbling! They like to see themselves as tough cookies, too. (Sorry if this is making you hungry lol. Not the intention) They don't like that they are suffering in the way they are but they're also struggling to overcome it.

Basically, they are overthinking the hell out of this situation because they want to get it right. They don't want to "mess it up". Yes, major perfectionist streak. It's hard for them to realize that they are imperfectly perfect just as they are and don't need to try so hard to win your heart. I don't think this is someone who you're actually with. Most of you, anyway. If this is your partner, they've been in the doghouse for a minute. Regardless of the relationship status, you two have had some real ups and downs. Your person is still having an extremely hard time accepting their past mistakes here. Not in the sense of not taking accountability or anything. No, the total opposite. They are taking WAY too much accountability. It's hard for them to recognize that they don't have to crucify themselves for their flaws. Instead of using mistakes as opportunities for learning, they usually see them as reasons to beat themselves up.

The thing is that they're not telling you any of this. That's why I feel like this isn't a committed relationship, for most of you. If it is, they are being very distant and withdrawn because they're feeling too vulnerable. If it isn't, they are being very distant and withdrawn because they're feeling too vulnerable. Lol but in this case, they can actually disappear from your radar. You two probably aren't talking much. When you do, it's likely very dry or kind of awkward on their end. They actually imagine themselves having the nerve to finally tell you how they feel about you (because I don't think they have yet), what they've been going through, how much they want to learn and grow and be better. All of it. They visualize making some grand confession of love and commitment but when they actually text you or reach out, all they can say is "Hey, what's up?"

I get the sense that you also know what's going on but also know there's not much else you can do. The ball is in their court! Essentially, they are very torn between this intense desire to be with you and build a happy life with you and an equally intense desire to hide in their little hole and be tormented by their fears and insecurities and negative thoughts. For some of you, this person may be a writer. Maybe they are making some heavy journal entries or channeling their feelings into creative writing. Not that you'd actually get to read it though (at least not now). On your end, you are left with a choice. You may want to wait on this person to come forward, especially if you feel a strong spiritual tie to them, or you may be exploring other options. Either way, I would advise you to detach from expectations of when this person will open up. The truth is they're still not ready to and need to improve their mental health. That doesn't negate their feelings for you, which are very genuine and strong. But it does mean that you can't exactly expect this all to turn around overnight.

I keep hearing Numb by Linkin Park. There may be messages in that song pertaining to your person. I do think they probably come from a very toxic background and that song symbolizes how they are working out the connection between their mean inner voice and any abuse/mistreatment they suffered at the hands of others. Also, 21 Guns by Green Day. So, fittingly, some very emo songs for this person.

//////

PILE 2

Death

(The Moon - reversed)

The High Priestess

(The Hermit - reversed)

Queen of Swords - reversed

(The Lovers)

Page of Wands - reversed

(Page of Cups)

The Hierophant

Wow, Pile 2. Okay, I have to laugh but it's not at your expense. The energy here is just kind of wild. This isn't necessarily just one person. It could be but it's very possible that it's more than one person. For many of you, this is symbolizing a running theme in your life. And the message is quite specific. You are a baddie, first of all. Regardless of your gender! Most of you, I feel, are more on the feminine side. But, you are all very desirable and alluring (yes, you are, take the damn compliment lol). You might have Scorpio as one of your personal placements. And you've got at least one person, if not more, wanting you really badly even though they think they shouldn't.

It's possible you are involved in a love triangle of sorts with someone taken. If so, this is a no judgment zone! But, I get the feeling that a lot of you are just minding your own business and being desired and pursued by these people anyway. It might be shocking to you or a little horrifying, something you don't really want. The person(s) in question could be just a friend or someone who you are not looking or expecting to get involved with. Meanwhile, they're kind of going crazy over you. Well, not kind of. Very.

The signs I am picking up are Aquarius and Cancer (again, they just popped in my head, not based on the cards here, which is funny because I don't usually do it that way). So, the person could have their Sun, Moon, Rising in either of those signs. Also, Virgo energy. So, again, a Virgo Sun, Moon or Rising. This person definitely could be married or in a serious commitment. The thing is that, even though they really want you, they also feel that it's wrong. They are enduring a real moral battle and dilemma here. "Battle of the flesh" is what just came to mind lol. So, this could be someone who's Christian or very religious. Maybe you go to the same church? That might be a little awkward. Or maybe it's just their religious path that makes this so difficult (though I must say that non-religious people also believe infidelity or cheating is wrong).

This person - I hesitate to say "your person" because it feels a bit one-sided for many of you - has really really been dwelling on this. I think they get very afraid of what people may think if they were to be "exposed". There might be a very opinionated mother figure, in particular, whose potential disapproval they really fear. The image I'm getting is very specific. Almost like they imagine themselves being with you physically and then they think of Mommy judging them and it kills the mood. It's giving Norman Bates a bit. Not that your person's a psycho but that their mother figure is very dominant and sometimes harsh in ways that may inhibit them or frustrate them. I just visualized that exact scene from Bates Motel, a masterpiece of a series that you should check out, btw (if you can handle darker themes).

But, Mommy issues aside, they are VERY sexually attracted to you. Part of the reason why is that the bedroom at home may be very dry. If this person is with someone else, the spark may be long gone. The sex non-existent. But, instead of seeing that as a reason for counseling or, you know, a separation or something, they are using their passion for you as an escape from this dissatisfaction. This may be TMI to you but they masturbate to you a lot. Like, all the time. It's like their sexual desire for you keeps them going. But, to be honest, I'm not getting the sense that this runs that deeply. It could, for some of you. The dominant impression I am getting, though, is someone who probably cares about you a lot in another sense - as a friend or something - but who also can't help but notice how hot you are. Their sexual draw to you, though, is motivated by other feelings that I think have very little to do with you.

That's a bit of a warning from Spirit, actually, if you are pinning any romantic hopes on this person. This could be a case of wild passion over deeper feeling. And I think even they realize that. They often berate themselves for these "sinful" thoughts (their word, not mine) but also can't help it. Ultimately, this is leading to a huge transformation within them, though. They are finally recognizing how dissatisfied they have been in their lives, in their relationship, if that resonates. It's like they can't fool themselves anymore and pretend like everything is peachy keen. But, this kind of introspection can be a very long and painful process. They may very well end up getting a divorce or making some big change in their life. My advice? If you are waiting for them to do that, don't. This honestly feels like a very messy situation and I feel called to tell you to have sensible expectations. Their feelings for you could do a 180 if and when they have you and you stop being "forbidden fruit". You may also be mirroring this feeling of wanting them but believing it's wrong. Ultimately, only you can make your life choices. Just know that if something truly doesn't feel right in your heart, it's because it's not. But, if you have no plans on entertaining this, just keep doing you, king or queen.

The songs I am channeling for this pile have been raunchy rap songs. Lol very fitting. Play by David Banner. (If you play the uncut version, you might want to use headphones!) Back That Ass Up by Juvenile. This person needs to behave lmao. And that's what I mean when I warn you that they may just want to hit it but are confusing that with love. Also, You Make Me Wanna by Usher came through. Very on-the-nose, Spirit. Just remember that life is not an Usher song and in those kinds of situations, someone's bound to get hurt.

///////

PILE 3

Three of Cups - reversed

(Eight of Cups - reversed)

The Star

(Six of Cups)

Five of Swords

(The Moon - reversed)

Three of Wands

(The Tower)

Ace of Swords

Pile 3, I definitely get the feeling that this is a separation of some sorts. If you are already happily with this person, this isn't for you. I think you haven't talked to this person in a while. They are most definitely someone you have history with, too. And I am getting a sense of many, many years of history with them, possibly going back to college or even high school (which could be any length of time, depending on your age). Whatever the case, y'all go way back. But, because of what happened here, this individual is kind of just left with their memories of you at the moment.

It's a really bittersweet feeling. I think they get sad when they think about you, at times, because they really miss you. So, they make up for that by getting lost in all this nostalgia. They may look at really old pictures or videos of you two on their social media a lot. Or they may just sit back and reminisce. You were a major person in their life and their existence with you was vivid enough to where they can easily transport themselves back to those days mentally. Lots of good times and laughter together. Many memories of partying or fun socializing in your younger days. I get the feeling that this person can almost get addicted to this nostalgia but it's also keeping them hopeful right now.

They are NOT letting you go. They don't believe it's over and it may not be (That is up to you, though) I feel you two grew apart but that there was also some sort of conflict here. For a lot of you, I feel like this was either an old friend who rejected you romantically and acted like they didn't have feelings for you (which was false) or a friend with benefits who wanted to stay casual and refused to commit and maybe picked other people over you. I don't think this was an official ex. Just a frustrating situation that caused you a fuck load of confusion and heartache. Are they into me? Are they not? Why they act like this then? Am I crazy??? The only way, after a long period of time, you could gain peace was by walking away. It's also likely that you've moved far away from them. In many ways, this situation has been in your rear view for a while. What other choice did you have but to move forward? But, by doing so, you inevitably left them devastated. Just the fact that they can't see you in person anymore is brutal.

They're now stuck on you but significantly after the fact. What I am sensing is that this person has "delayed emotions". They can take 2 to 3 business days to respond to even simple matters lol. So, something as complex as this took them a long time to fully process. And the more time went on, the more horrified and hurt they became at the fact that they let you go. For some reason, I am getting a specific message that they are heavy in Fire (Aries, Leo, Sagittarius) and Earth (Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn). Maybe those are the dominant Elements in their chart. They have the fierce, fun nature of Fire and the practicality and groundedness of Earth but they are very out of tune with their true feelings, which made it easy for them to reject you or pretend they didn't feel the connection too.

But they are getting better! They are seeing things in a MUCH different light than they did before. I am getting a specific message about you sharing some sort of spiritual insight or download with them. You might have talked to them about synchronicities around this connection or anything else metaphysical they needed to hear. Since that has not historically been their thing, you may have risked looking crazy or weird to them and maybe they kind of treated you like you were. But, they now see that you were right and are pretty much eating their words. I am definitely getting Aquarius vibes from this pile. That sign could be your Sun, Moon or Rising. That's an Aquarian dilemma (that I relate to very much as an Aquarius Rising myself). Being totally right and insightful but being treated like you're nuts or causing a problem by others until much later, when they realize you were spot on all along. It's alright. It's not easy being "ahead of time". But you're always vindicated!

Like now. I think this person really wants to make it up to you. They also see you very highly. They realize how happy you make them and how truly special you've always been to them; a major Light in their life. Of course, they could've realized this much sooner. But, love does not unfold in a linear way. It's your choice as far as what to do about this. I do feel called to say to not be close-minded about this situation. Maybe a part of you wants this person back too and wants to give it a try romantically. I think you're being advised to not cut them off entirely because of a preconceived notion of how you should respond to them. It may pay off to be open to the possibilities here, instead of staying stuck on their past behavior. People can surprise you!

I think they are feeling called toward becoming spiritual, too, because of the knowledge or insights you may have shared. They see you as a guiding light and you've made such a huge impact on them! One thing I have to mention is that there may be some tension between them and other people in your old friend group. Maybe a mutual friend or two doesn't like how they've treated you? I do think they haven't opened up to many people you both know about this situation. Maybe just a couple of people who are more so their friends because they may be too embarrassed otherwise. I also think if an old friend of yours got married recently or if there was some big social event with the old gang and you weren't there, it was super-hard for them. They were probably thinking of you the whole time and kept imagining you being there. That's a very particular message but take it if it resonates.

Ultimately, they are planning to get back in communication with you. They may have to get creative because maybe they don't have your number anymore or you blocked them or something. But, they are building themselves up to talk to you again. A little overthinking here but it doesn't feel torturous like Pile 1 (there may be messages for you in that pile if you felt called to it). Sometimes, they just sit and practice what they would say. They are kind of nervous and while they may be communicative, they also aren't the most verbal or expressive when it comes to serious situations like this. So temper your expectations, if you're open to them coming forward. Don't think they're going to write you a sonnet or something lol. But, they are trying and they want to take action. I am struck by the lack of Pentacles here, which usually suggests a lack of effort. But I don't see that in a bad way here. I think they're realizing that this situation could be much easier than they have made it out to be and they don't have to hold themselves back anymore. But, don't fixate on when they will come in. Just let go and allow what's meant to happen to happen.

I also want to say that if you want to reach out first, you're getting a green light from Spirit to do so. Maybe you kind of have to because they wouldn't have your contact info otherwise. But, if you do, this could be the encouragement or the sign they'd need to work on reconnecting with you.

As far as songs, I am getting Memories by David Guetta featuring Kid Cudi. So, yes, confirming what I've said before, including that you two probably have some wild, hilarious stories from the old days. I also think this person may not be having as much fun because they're too busy "adulting" and "grinding". So, thoughts of those carefree, crazy times with you are making them extra nostalgic. Also, New Person Same Old Mistakes by Tame Impala (though I have to shout out the cover version Same Ol Mistakes by the legend-the icon-the moment Rihanna). I DO think this person either has significantly changed or will by the time they come back in. I can feel you scoffing a bit in disbelief as they were so stuck in their ways for so long. But, again, leave room for them to surprise you. At the same time, use your own discernment. I just think they are having to face a lot of things about themselves and this situation has been the catalyst for that.

[icallhimjoey]

I LOVED IT SO DAMN MUCH! <3 thank you for feeding us! Now I’m hungry for more- honestly both of them are hopeless idiots

hungry for more, you say? well... (rewritten 19 nov 2023) Wordcount: 2.9K

Inevitable Sparks

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

It was undeniable now and it felt a little unfair to him. Almost a little, dared he say it, abandoning.

Pushed to the side, no longer important enough.

It had been sort of gradual, but the realisation hit Wesley like a tonne of bricks when he found he hadn't seen Joe in a month and you had.

And several times, too!

He'd been so annoyed by the two of you being too scared to talk to each other like normal people, like adults, but this seemed infinitely more annoying. Wesley couldn't believe it, but he kind of wished you'd stayed in that stage of texting him rather than each other a little longer.

The second he'd left the group chat he'd made for you, both you and Joe filled his phone in individual text-threads with an assortment of accusations and swearwords.

"WTF WTF WESLEY WTF"

"🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻"

"the biggest wanker i know"

"IDIOT"

"are you fckn serious rn?????"

"and then you just LEAVE?"

"wtf do i say now wes"

"you're such a dickhead 😒 you know that right"

"WTF DO I SAY?!"

Wesley followed up with the unthinkable, and texted each of you screenshots of the other's messages to him. You weren't aware he'd sent yours to Joe, and Joe wasn't aware he'd sent his to you, but at least then you both understood that you had the exact same reaction, and it should've calmed your nerves.

It absolutely hadn't, though, because what were you going to say now?

You'd stared at the empty chat screen of the group chat that now was just you and Joe for entirely too long until you saw that Joe was typing.

But then he'd stopped.

And then he'd started again, and Joe typed for nearly a minute, but no message appeared.

Eventually, you decided you were going to send the first message after reading Wesley's message a million times in which he called you both idiots.

"wesley's the idiot"

You decided that you could bond over your awful friend placing you in this awful spot. And it was perfect, because now Joe could just reply and the seal would be broken.

"hard agree"

And then you'd both taken a screenshot of that, and both individually sent it to Wesley without the other knowing, and it had made Wesley laugh out loud.

Sure.

If the two of you wanted him to be the idiot, he'd gladly fill those shoes for you.

"at least the photo's nice"

You sent it and immediately regretted pointing it out, far too nervous that Joe would take the comment the way you meant it.

"its blurry" Joe replied. "he's an idiot AND a bad photographer"

"we'll make him take a new one, preferably one where we know its being taken so he can get my good side"

"which side is your better one?"Joe didn't immediately go into a shpiel of you both your sides being your good sides like you'd expected. Wasn't that the predictable thing for a guy to say after you made a comment like that? Joe hadn't gone that route, though. It was refreshing and you loved it.

"idk probably the back"

"you're right, you do have a nice backside" Joe flirted.

Made you grin.

"yea? hard agree? 🙃" you flirted back.

"the hardest"

The first time you'd seen Wesley after that, you'd shown Wesley the conversations you and Joe had been having and he looked at it for a second before telling you that Joe'd already let him read all of it.

Oh.

Well, all right then.

You concluded then that perhaps Wesley had been right, and the both of you really were idiots. But it was okay. Was fine.

Wesley liked that you kept the group chat with the title and picture he'd set you up with, but said he didn't need to be kept up to date on absolutely everything the two of you spoke about.

What that didn't mean is that he'd be kept out of the loop entirely... except, that's exactly what you and Joe had done.

So you hadn't let Wesley know about the first time you'd met up for a coffee together and had Joe guess your coffee order which he'd gotten right on his fourth try. You'd pretended to be impressed, and Joe had smiled bashfully as he told you shut up, don't humour me.

You would humour Joe for the rest of his life if it was going to get him to smile like that, no problem.

Next, you hadn't let Wesley know that Joe had invited you over to his flat for lunch in between zoom meetings he had going on a random Saturday. You'd had so much fun that you forgot about the time and Joe had missed an entire interview he was meant to do.

And then after that, Joe hadn't let Wesley know that you sometimes called each other whilst getting ready for bed, just to talk about your day for a bit, and Joe would make sure to at least make you laugh a few times so that, even when you'd had a bad day, you at least got to go to sleep in somewhat of a better mood.

And then, Joe hadn't let Wesley know that he was off on a trip for work for the next couple of days, which Wesley didn't appreciate.

"Tomorrow? In the morning?" Wesley asked Joe over the phone.

"Yea, but I should have time tonight! I'm leaving... I don't even know the time I'm leaving, wait, let me check," Joe tried to open his schedule on his phone and accidentally hung up on Wesley as he did.

Wesley gave Joe a little time to ring back, but when he didn't, Wesley called him back and found the line was busy; Joe was on another call.

"Hey!" Joe could hear your smile through the phone.

"Hey," Joe bashfully replied, unable to hide his own smile from making its way into your ears.

"I've got a huge problem," you started, feigning alarm, but nothing about the way you said it sounded like you were being serious. "And I desperately need your help."

It was the cleverest thing you'd been able to come up with to coax Joe over into your flat again. He'd mentioned he'd be out of the country for a few days soon, and you had decided you wanted to see him once more before he left.

Just the two of you.

Without Wesley also there.

"You do?" Joe chuckled. "What is it?"

"I've just prepared far too much food, there's no way I can eat all of it by myself," you couldn't make it through the sentence without laughing. You were being such an idiot. Joe thought it was adorable.

"Did you? What did you make?"

"Shrimp. Scampi. I've got so much of it, it's honestly– it's a bit mad." your voice dripped with overdone concern.

"Oh no, shrimp overload?" Joe gasped dramatically, matching your tone.

"Shrimp overload." you confirmed, absolutely beaming.

You looked over at the bag of still frozen shrimp on your kitchen counter, and you knew if Joe was going to say he would come over to help you in this faux disaster, you'd have to start cooking them immediately to at least make this playful lie somewhat believable.

"Sounds like–" Joe audibly let a choked laugh escape through his teeth. "Sounds like a serious issue..."

"It really is, I could really use a hand in, let's say, about an hour?"

"Of course," Joe's voice was suddenly impossibly soft and sweet. "I'll be right over."

Made your neck flush.

"My hero," you said, and you both softly giggled before saying your goodbyes and hanging up.

That was when Joe saw he'd received a text from Wesley whilst he'd been talking to you.

"So. Tonight. Dinner?"

"Sorry mate I can't, something came up, I'll see you next week!"

When you buzzed Joe into your building, you left your front door ajar so Joe could make his way in himself whilst you gave your cooking its finishing touches.

"Hello?" Joe called into your flat when he entered, and before you could reply, you heard him take a deep breath after which he whispered "Delicious," on his exhale.

Your whole flat smelled of various herbs, mostly garlic though, and it had Joe's stomach instantly rumbling.

"Nearly done," you turned to see Joe walk in and grinned.

"Hi."

Joe looked like he'd just been milling around his flat all day; fluffy hair that could use a lick of product, comfortable loose-fitting clothing - none of it pulled together properly, but he looked nice anyway.

You panned down to see he'd taken his shoes off by the door and your heart fluttered a little because that meant that one, Joe cared enough not to walk filth into your house and two, he looked extra soft and comfortable now.

Joe was immediately hovering behind you to peer over your shoulder to see onto the cooktop.

"That is a lot of shrimp," Joe commented, "Good thing I came."

You could help but laugh, because looking at your pots and pans now, sure, it could feed a small family of four if they weren't that hungry, but this could also easily feed just the two of you without leaving any leftovers.

"Wait, stand still," Joe suddenly said, and you felt two hands on your lower back tug tenderly at your apron as you froze on the spot.

All of your attention was with Joe's touch now which made your heart somersault. Gave you goosebumps.

Joe untied the knot that was threateningly loose and used delicate touch to tie it again.

Tightly, this time.

You could feel how Joe was close to you, too close for what he was doing, his breath lightly fanning the back of your neck.

When Joe was done, he let his fingers linger and make their way over to the side of your hips, and you could hear Joe's breath hitch as you thought of all the things you wanted him to do to you.

There'd only been accidental touching of knees and hands with the two of you up until now, and all had resulted in blushes and shy smiles and you were done with them.

You wanted more.

Kind of wanted more right now.

"Joe?" you broke the silence after you'd both been standing there like that a little too long, Joe's hands softly touching your hips, and you imagined he'd been staring down at your bum.

Suddenly, Joe loudly cleared his throat.

"Yea?"

He let his hands softly tap your hips before moving them away from you.

"Um, anything I can do to help?"

Your attention shifted back to the food in front of you, and you quickly stirred whatever needed stirring.

"Yes, actually. Could you help set the table?" you pointed at a kitchen cabinet and let Joe get to work as you mentally pulled yourself together.

Steady breathing, you silently guided yourself.

Slow, steady, deep breaths.

Come on.

You could do this.

Except you couldn't. Because when Joe had set the table and you'd placed the pan of shrimp in the middle of it, you were about to take off your apron but learnt quickly that you couldn't.

"Oh, double knot, sorry," Joe said, already sat at the table, when he saw you struggle as you pulled on the fabric and he reached out an arm to help.

It made you grin because you knew this dork had done that on purpose. Didn't doubt it for a second.

You turned, and expected Joe to simply untie the apron for you, but instead, he pulled you closer with an unexpected yank, placing you in between his widely spread legs.

He untied you, far too slowly for it to be normal, tugging harshly and pulling you more into him as he did. When you felt the apron fall to your front, Joe pushed you forward a little by the small of your back and you heard him get up from his seat.

Instinctively, you turned around to face him and Joe's hands found the loop of the apron around your neck, helping you take it off completely.

When he'd raised it over your head, what you should've done was move away from each other, sit down, scoop some shrimp onto both your plates and have dinner together.

Instead, you both stood there, fixed in place, and you knew it was just an apron, but technically, Joe had just undressed you and it made you stop breathing for a second as your eyes found each other.

Joe let the apron drop from his hands onto the floor next to you as he reached an arm around your back, pulling you in closer to him. It startled you, and you leant black slightly, placing both your hands over his upper arms.

Joe got close, leaning forward, and his other hand found the back of your neck to guide your movements.

Yes.

This is what you wanted.

Fuck the food.

You could just eat each other.

You didn't even see what Joe was looking at, because you couldn't stop staring at his mouth.

Those lips.

The sheer look of them made you release a stuttered breath, and it was enough to make Joe dip his head down to meet your lips.

But then.

Just as you were about to let your lips touch in the most feverish of manners, your buzzer went.

Fuck.

It filled the room with a shrill harsh ringing noise, pulling you from your hazy bubble which instantly created space between the two of you. You both released breaths you'd been holding in, and you couldn't help but chuckle slightly as Joe loosened the grip he had on you to let you answer whoever was downstairs trying to get into the building.

"Yes?"

"Delivery." a crackly voice spoke through the old speaker and you were quick to buzz them up.

When you turned back to Joe, he had sat back down and grinned at you, letting a huff of air escape his nostrils in a sad laugh. You slumped your shoulders which sent the same message as you smiled back at him and knitted your eyebrows together.

The moment had been ruined and had now unfortunately floated away from you entirely.

"Get some food onto your plate, I'll be back in a second," you nodded at the pan of steaming shrimp before stepping into your hallway to get the door.

With Joe out of sight, you were able to gather your thoughts a second, and suddenly, you frowned.

Delivery?

You hadn't ordered anything, had you?

A rapid, melodic knock at your door startled you.

Oh no... it couldn't be?

A quick peek through your peephole confirmed your suspicions.

Fuck.

Wesley.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath before you carefully opened your door just enough to peek your head through.

"Hi," you spoke in a loud whisper, your eyes huge with shock.

"Wine delivery," Wesley said loudly, and used a flat hand to push your door open further before stepping around you, into your hallway.

"I've just brought one bottle though, do you have more? Because I'm definitely going to need more," he seemed annoyed and completely ignored what your facial expression was trying to tell him.

"Erm, Wes?" you kept the volume of your voice as low as you could manage it, moving yourself to stand in the middle of your hallway to block Wesley.

But Wesley moved to take off his shoes, ready to spend the evening on your sofa with good wine, good company, bad TV and enough time and space to freely complain about his best friend Joe.

"Did you cook? It smells good in–" words faltered him when he saw them. You followed Wesley's gaze and your eyes landed on Joe's beige wallabees, neatly placed next to the radiator.

Fuck.

Wesley didn't say anything, but looked at you a second with a blank face and then stepped around you to look into your living room.

He was met with the sight of Joe scooping shrimp onto your plate, ladle hovering as Joe'd frozen on the spot the second he'd heard Wesley's voice, feeling caught doing something he wasn't meant to be doing.

"Hey," Joe spoke awkwardly, stretching the word and letting it fade out in volume until the blanket of silence covered the room completely.

For a second Wesley just blinked at Joe, and then back at you until he realised the situation at hand.

"Something came up?" Wesley challenged Joe slightly, not overtly angry, more so startled by what he'd walked in on, but you definitely detected a little annoyance.

"Wes," you started.

"Something did," Joe plainly said, interrupting you as he gestured your way.

Wesley followed Joe's eyes and looked at you just a smidge too long, scanning your face to read your apologetic features before handing you the bottle of wine he'd been holding.

"Enjoy," he said, giving you both a tight polite smile that didn't reach his eyes before turning on his heel and walking out.

-----

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[finerllines]

love, harry [bestfriend!h au]

a/n: hello everyone i hope yall are still here and reading!! im so sorry it took so long i had a major slump for a couple of months but now im back and im so excited to wrap up charlie and harry's story. thank you for reading!! please give me feedback, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed <3

summary: harry needs his best friend back and he will do anything to get her to love him back

wc: 11k+

tw: none :-)

prev part

///

One of the main occupational hazards of being a touring musician is missing things. Eventually, people learn to stop sending invitations. Just as well, it gets harder and harder to find new ways to say ‘sorry, I’ve got work’. When most of the people you grew up with have moved out of your small town, onto bigger and better things, home just becomes wherever you manage to stay for more than a month.

And that’s fine. That’s all Harry can really remember. Life became a matter of watching everyone else’s from a distance. Everyone’s except one.

Charlie.

Instead of Instagram stories and posts, it was personal photos and little vlogs about her day sent straight to him, for his eyes only. He doesn’t know what he did to earn her trust and love, but he has never taken it for granted. Somehow, she was never deterred by his lack of attendance, congratulatory texts and video calls thankfully being enough. Or it was enough, until she got pregnant.

He had worked so hard to show her it’s okay to open up and let people in again, and he went and pissed it all away. But he is determined to not let her shut him out again. Which is why he’s back at her front door, on four hours of sleep, still exhausted from the show the night before.

Nothing brings you back down to earth like standing in front of a door after performing in front of five thousand people, hands filled with grovelling supplies, shaking as it raises to knock.

Despite the many women he’s dated, grovelling is new to him. He likes to think he’s a pretty good boyfriend - he’s attentive, patient, and thoughtful. But by the time they get to the point where he would need to grovel, he normally already has one foot out the door, so instead of trying to make amends he accepts their fate and ends things. Cruel? Sure. But it’s the truth. He’s never really loved or cared about anyone enough to want to make the extra effort.

Except Charlie. And Charlie has never been mad at him.

Until now. Justifiably so.

It’s not that Harry doesn’t want to have this conversation, it’s all he’s wanted to do since their call, he just doesn’t know where to start.

Should he bring up the pure rage he felt when he saw the pictures of them and Richard? Or is that something he should save for later, after he has figured all of that out himself? He’s a jealous guy, everyone knows that, but he’s never felt jealousy so ugly and intense like that before, it felt so primitive and guttural; the near uncontrollable urge to remind Richard, and everyone, that Charlie does not belong to him. Problem is, Charlie doesn’t belong to him either. And neither does Rory. Less so now than ever.

He used to think he feels so strongly about her because she is a piece of his childhood, a piece of the Harry he used to be. Now, these feelings are undeniably romantic. None of her previous partners ever felt like a real threat because he was always confident that their history and the connection is stronger than anything these men would have to offer her. Then Richard made a baby with her. Talk about a connection.

Those weeks spent with Rory and Charlie were bliss. There hasn’t been a day spent without thinking about how they were doing since: whether Rory ate all her breakfast, or whether Charlie found the time to watch an episode of Taskmaster with a glass of wine. And when the domestic got too emotional for him, he would start to wonder what her skin would feel like if he ran his hand under her shirt, or what sounds she would make if he nuzzled his nose in the crook of her neck, peppering it with soft kisses and licks.

But none of that is as important as their friendship. So, until he figures out all of that out for himself, he needs to focus on apologising and begging for forgiveness.

Taking a deep breath, he wipes his palms on his thighs before knocking the door. While waiting, he talks himself through more deep breaths. It’s a good thing he did because when the door gets pulled open his breath hitches a little.

Finally seeing the person you’ve been missing and thinking about is almost life giving. Charlie is stunning, even in an old robe and a braid that looks like it was slept in.

“Harry, hi.”

He had been mentally bracing himself for iciness in her voice. Instead, all he hears is wariness, and half of her body remains hidden behind the door

Charlie is wary of him. Shit.

“Um, H?” she asks when he doesn’t respond.

“Hi,” he raises a hand as a greeting on instinct, forgetting that he’s holding a bouquet of flowers. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” She replies as if it’s ridiculous that he has to ask, but she can't see how guarded she looks right now.

A wave of déjà vu hits. The uncertainty and ball of emotion in his belly reminds Harry of the day he came to confront Charlie about having a baby.

She walks in front of him guiding him to the kitchen.

“Rory’s just eaten breakfast, I’m getting started on mine. You can join me if you’d like.”

In the kitchen playing with a hand towel is the most cheerful baby. The smile that emerges on his face is instinctive, and it’s fortunately shared by Rory. He’s not sure if it’s wishful thinking but he thinks he sees her eyes light up with recognition. He wants to pick her up and cuddle her close, for his own comfort more than anything, but he reminds himself of the agenda and redirects his attention to his best friend.

Standing in the middle of her kitchen, kind of stupidly, he thrusts his hands forward, like a young boy presenting a gift to his crush for the first time.

“For you.”

Her brows quirk up. “For me?”

He nods. “Who else?”

“I don’t know, thought you might be just making a pit stop.” She takes the bouquet first, taking the time to admire the assortment of flowers. “Thank you. These are beautiful.”

After getting it situated in an old jar from under the sink she takes the small gift bag. Setting it on the kitchen counter, she starts to pull things out.

“Is this …” she trails off as she studies the items on the counter.

“It’s the special knife spoon thing you talked about. The one that is designed to get all the peanut butter out the jar. And I got you another set of those small and long wooden spoons.”

She doesn't say anything for a moment and continues staring at his offerings.

While scratching the nape of his neck he says, “Sorry, it was hard to find an apology gift that is meaningful and yet wouldn’t make you mad because I spent a shitload of money on it. I’ll get you a proper gift soon but I didn’t have too much time because of, you know, the –“

“Harry,” she cuts him off firmly, “I love it, thank you. It means a lot, really.” Stepping forward, she wraps her arms around him, squeezing tightly, cheek pressed comfortably against his body.

His heart tightens in his chest. He’s missed this. He was afraid he might never experience this again.

“I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I feel like all I’ve done since coming back is apologise but I need you to forgive me one more time, please. I really am sorry. I didn’t mean anything I said. You know that, right? I … I was just irrationally jealous and hurt that I wanted to hurt you too. It’s fucked up, but it’s the truth. You’ll only get the truth from now on. I promise. Please believe me.”

How can she not believe him?

The extra precautions taken to keep her anonymity as much as possible while also making sure she could be as involved in his life as she wants. Years of texts, calls, and everything in between where they exposed their truest selves to each other without fear of judgement. Even the way he is holding her now, breath racing in and out, like he might break down if she doesn’t believe him.

“H, I believe you. The things you said … they were fucked. But I can’t stay mad at you, even if I tried.”

Shaking his head, he mumbles into her hair, “Thank you. Thank you. You’re too good for me. You shouldn’t make it so easy for a guy, you deserve grovelling. And I will, I’m not done making it up to you.”

They both hug each other tighter, gripping the fabric on each other’s backs.

“I don’t need grovelling; you’ve already done so much. Besides, you bought me my first bouquet of flowers in like four years and you got me presents that tell me you pay attention to me. I rambled to you about loving small spoons with long handles and how much I hate not being able to clean out the peanut butter jar ages ago, and somehow you were actually listening and remembered.”

“That wanker never got you flowers?”

She rolls her eyes. “No, too practical for that. And for small spoons too.” She coughs to clear her throat. “Also, you’re allowed to curse him you. You were right.”

“About what?” Harry asks.

She makes no effort to explain, simply shrugging her shoulders in faux nonchalance. There’s a brief silence once again, then, a chill shoots up his spine. He places his hands on her forearms and pushes her far back enough to be able to see her face.

“No. Fucking. Way.”

“Not now, please. Can we talk about it later? I missed you and I don’t want to think about him.”

Of course. He never wants to think about Richard more than necessary anyways.

“Okay, I don’t want him ruining our time together. I want to spend time with my best girls.”

-

Harry ended up staying the night.

He woke up with Charlie’s head tucked under his, and her knees curled into herself on his lap. Despite the kink in his neck and the knot between his shoulders, he can’t bring himself to separate from her. The heat emanating from her body warms him in a way that soothes him. Their bodies haven’t been this close in forever, not since they were children and had sleepovers in the backyard where they always somehow woke up curled into each other.  

Growing up together meant going through that awkward stage of being afraid to get too touchy with each other, and by the time they moved past that, they had both started developing real crushes and entering relationships with other people. Harry thought they were pretty affectionate for platonic friends anyways, but the way they’re intertwined now makes him realise that they can be so much closer, so, so much closer.

Charlie’s face is right there. He can see every crevice, bump, and wrinkle on her skin. His eyes can’t help but trace every feature - round her eyes, down the slope of her nose, and across her lips. He can’t pull his eyes away from her lips. They sit together so perfectly, in the perfect pout, begging to be pinched, bitten, and kissed. Begging to be pinched, bitten, and kissed by him specifically.

He doesn’t notice his face inching towards hers until their noses brush, causing her to tense in his arms. Harry freezes, watching tentatively as her lips purse and eyes squeeze tightly together.

“Uhhmm?” she groans.

Harry slowly moves his hand up and down Charlie’s back hoping to ground her as she slowly wakes up.

“It’s me, darling. Harry.”

“Hmm? H?”

She’s so precious. Harry feels like his heart might burst from how hard it’s beating.

“I’m right here. Good morning.”

With a big huff, her eyes blink open. Her forehead is pinched with confusion as she takes in her surroundings. Slowly pulling her arm from under his body, she reaches up and places her hand on Harry’s face, patting his cheek a couple of times as if trying to make sure he's really there.

With a little chuckle, he covers her hand with his, holding it in place on his cheek. Tilting his head slightly, he presses a small kiss to her palm. “Darling, I’m here. I came over yesterday and we fell asleep on the couch. Remember?”

Satisfied with his explanation, Charlie lets her body go lax against his.

Harry can’t help but smile at the way she trusts him, even half asleep.

Despite being forgiven almost immediately, there’s still a sense of uneasiness that he cannot shake. All of that is in his head though because Charlie has done nothing to make him feel uncertain. The looks, touches, and words they shared yesterday can only be described as tender, both of them obviously still emotionally fragile.

Richard’s fuck up is still unknown to Harry. He doesn’t care though. Not right now anyways. He got to kiss Rory’s cheeks until she erupted into excited giggles and watch as her gorgeous eyes slowly fluttered shut as she fell asleep in his rocking arms. Then, a tired but smiley Charlie tucked herself against him as they watched tv and talked about life with their heads pressed together.

But the feel good atmosphere of yesterday has dissipated, both of them forced to return to reality under the morning sunlight.

A strong vibration bursts their bubble.

When Charlie tries to peel herself from Harry, his arm quickly circles her waist to keep her close to him as he leans to grab his phone on the coffee table.

“Hello?” his voice is gruff from sleep. “I know … I’ll be there on time. I said I’ll be there … yes I know what I’m doing. Okay, bye.”

Talk about returning to reality.

“You need to go,” she says, not asks.

He nods. “I uh, didn’t get in my car to London this morning so they’re just wondering where I am. I have a show there tonight.”

Right. Harry just kicked off his new tour and suddenly appeared at her door after the first show.

The air around them is still as the two friends try to make sense of all that’s happened.

“Of course, you’re an important man.”

“Not too important for you and Rory.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk, like properly, last night, but I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I’m glad you came, H, and Rory was thrilled to see you. She missed you, a lot. I’ve played your album so much she recognises your voice.”

Harry’s eyes pretty much glaze over at the thought. “Thank you for letting be in her life”

Charlie shakes her head and grabs his hands that have started to tremble. “You don’t need to thank me. I can't imagine you not being in her life. We’re Harry and Charlie, so I'm stuck with you.”

“You’re too good to me,” he whispers, “And we’re Harry, Charlie, and Rory.”

He has to bite his bottom lip to stop himself from saying everything he wants to say. With the last bit of self-control left in his body, he rests his forehead against hers as they lock eyes.

Then, a loud buzzing emanates from the coffee table again. With a frustrated huff, his eyes shut.

“Hey,” she squeezes his hand, “your fans need you.”

They emerge from their little cocoon on the sofa in silence, moving wordlessly in sync as Harry pays Rory one last visit, then leaves for London after a tight hug from his best friend.

As Charlie shuts the door behind her, she can’t help but feel that her living room now feels a little empty. All that’s left is the weight of everything left unsaid between them lingering in the air.

-

Better Homes and Gardens Exclusive: Harry Styles Shares the Meaning Behind His New Album, 'Harry's House'

Pop music’s most sought after man has a new album coming out and the world is excited. This new release comes from a relatively quiet quarantine period from Styles. He was set to kick off his world tour for his last album, Fine Line, when travel and group restrictions worldwide were announced, and his world went quiet all of a sudden.

His new album showcases an unexpected domestic side to his glistening life. Themes of family, belonging, and domestic bliss shine through so evidently that I can’t help but wonder if all of this is hypothetical or anecdotal.

I bite the bullet and ask. Before I get an answer, he lets out a small laugh, as if he has been expecting it.

“It’s definitely not an autobiography but all the songs come from a very real place in my life. The best thing about writing from real life is that as time passes my relationship with these songs change. Even from when I wrote them up to now, some of these songs listen completely different.”

I ask if that is good or bad. “Depends”, he says after ruminating to himself, “it depends on whether there are any fresh wounds.” Right now, he confesses, some wounds are pretty fresh. “Some are hard to listen to and I’m a little nervous to sing them if I’m honest.”

His earnestness is hard to miss – it shines through in his eyes and his voice. Tucked away in our little corner of the coffeeshop, I can’t help but feel like my high school crush has somehow decided to confide in me and unveil what’s beneath the good looks and charm. I feel almost privileged to be the chosen one, entrusted with his sincerity and vulnerability.

There is nothing manmade or artificial about this man – at least not when it comes to his music. He speaks about each song with so much passion, excitement, and on a couple of occasions, uncertainty. That took me by surprise. He has learnt to let go of needing to be well liked by every listener, he tells me proudly, but the need to impress those he loves will forever be there. Whether that is a strength or a weakness he has yet to figure out.

“That need is almost stronger now. Sometimes songs become a kind of coded message for those who know what I’m singing about. And it’s scary, waiting for a reaction or some approval,” he confesses.

“I spent so much time at home this past year, but I felt like my actual home is someplace else, somewhere that I couldn’t be at that moment in time.  Allowing myself to feel everything that I felt and reflect on why I’m feeling these things helped me make sense of all of that. Now I know where my home is, or at least I know where to go to find it.”

From the way he speaks I get the impression that he needs this album to be heard by some people. Not everyone, but a select few. Even though these songs weren’t necessarily written for me, I can’t help but feel excited to enter Harry’s House.

-

Charlie misses Harry. Like really misses Harry. Getting that little taste of him unlocked the door of longing deep within her and now it won’t shut. Like when you skip lunch then eat a cracker a couple hours later, unleashing a wave of insatiable hunger that can only be made quiet by eating until you cannot breathe anymore.

Basically, she needs so much of Harry until she cannot breathe. Until all she can think about is him.

Something changed. The moment she shut the door behind him that fateful morning, it was like a switch flipped and all she could do from then on is think about him. She’s missed him before, of course, but she’s never quite like this.

She can’t remember if anyone has ever looked at her so tenderly before. Harry’s definitely the most attentive man she’s ever met. Maybe it’s because she has the shitshow of a conversation with Richard to compare it to, but Harry said sorry, and for some reason that was more than enough for her.

Is she an idiot for choosing to believe a man’s words after just being lied to by another? Perhaps. Unfortunately, there is nothing she can do about it. Everything in her wants Harry.

The only contact she’s had with him since he left is a couple of texts. They’ve been casual, nothing too serious – he likes to have serious conversations in person – but enough to let her know that he’s still thinking about her.

“What do you think Rory? You’re a smart girl, right? You latched onto Harry but didn’t really want to play along with Richard, so what gave it away huh? Why didn’t you tell your mummy?”

The dangerous thing about getting too attached to Harry – that is, getting attached in a non-platonic way or in a father-figure to Rory kind of way – is that she’ll grow too dependent on him for assurance. Hearing him tell her that she is a good mother affected her more than she would like to admit. His words already hold too much weight, it would not be smart to give him more authority.

If the Richard catastrophe had to have a silver lining, it made Charlie realise that she needs to get her shit together and live up to the whole ‘strong, independent woman’ thing. She went from being satisfied in her own little world where all that mattered was her and her daughter, to feeling like Rory needed Richard’s love to be complete, as if her as a mother was not enough.

So, as much as her heart hates that Harry’s not here, her brain knows it’s for the best. She hasn’t had a moment like this in a while. Just her and her daughter having a quiet moment together. Sometimes she thinks it’s weird that she's a grown adult with a very adult job with very adult responsibilities, but she speaks to her year old daughter as if she’s a colleague, full sentences and everything.

“You like Harry, huh. What’d you think you’ll call him when you can speak? Uncle Harry? Or just Harry maybe. If you come up with some sort of cute nickname for him, he’ll love it.”

Rory looks up at her with a toy truck in her mouth, drool basically dripping off the toy.

Reaching for a tissue, Charlie sighs with amusement. “You’re just an angel aren’t you.”

-

It’s about two months later that Charlie and Harry reunite in person. He carved out a free couple of weeks and invited Charlie and Rory down to his flat in London for a ‘sleepover’, as he so put it.

Everything is sorted out for the both of you to stay over. The cot I ordered for Rory has already arrived so you can’t say no. xx

He greets them in the underground carpark. Charlie first sees him when the car he chartered pulls up in front of the lift lobby. With hands clasped behind his back, he has his eyes glued to the entrance, a smile breaking out on his face when he spots them.

After opening the door for them, his hands reconvene behind his back. She can tell they are tightly clenched from the way his forearms flex.

“Hi,” he says, voice a little tentative. He still doesn’t make a move to touch her.

“Hi,” she replies.

She can tell Harry is itching to do something - hug her or kiss her on the cheek - literally anything. His self-restraint is impressive, but she decides to put him out of his misery.

“Can you help bring Rory up please? I’ve got my hands full with the bags.”

He’s nodding instantly. The moment Charlie moves away from the door he’s swooping in to unbuckle the little girl gleefully.

“Hi my little monkey. C’mere.” His voice is soft and intimate.

Harry carries Rory on his front in the baby byon on the lift ride up. Charlie can’t pull her eyes away from their reflection in the mirror the entire time, and Harry can’t pull his eyes from Rory, who is taking in the new surroundings with curious eyes, swinging her chubby little legs back and forth.

Charlie wants to tattoo this image onto the inside of her brain.

It’s almost frightening how easily they slip back into their domestic routine. Apart from the slight tentativeness in their actions, they move around the space with complete familiarity. Before he puts Rory down, he makes sure to look at Charlie for approval first, and when she starts exploring his living room on wobbly steps, he makes sure to trail behind her, ready to grab her if she tries to walk into furniture.

He’s not sure if it’s all in his head, but Rory seems to have become a toddler in his short absence, which makes his heart ache a little. His desire to be there to witness Rory growing up probably crosses some sort of line, especially since Charlie made it clear that he is not a part of their family, however, out of all the inappropriate thoughts he has about Charlie, this one about watching Rory grow up is definitely the tamest.

“She’s basically a teenager now,” he jokes, successfully eliciting a giggle from Charlie.

With a prideful smile, she says, “She’s definitely a smart girl. There’s a song of yours she can recognise. When it plays it public she’ll give me a cheeky look and do a little dance.”

Harry’s head whips around to face her. “Really?”

She nods.

“What song? Do you have a video?”

Her face falters a little. “I don’t have any videos, sorry. It was mainly when we … you know.”

“Oh, right. It’s a new one then.” She nods again. “Thank you for letting me still be part of her life, even though we were –“

“- yeah.” They standing silence watching the exploring baby. “Like I said, I can’t hate you. And I would never make my daughter hate you too.”

He coughs to clear his throat. “What if … what if I want more?”

“More? Well, you’re her godfather, her only godfather, that hasn’t changed. And now that she … now that the father figure role is vacant again, you have her all to yourself.”

“Actually, I meant … um,” he scratches the back of his head, diverting his eyes. He chickens out. “Um, will you tell me about what happened with Richard?”

Charlie lets out a huff and rolls her eyes. She recounts what happened as briefly as possible, distilling Richard’s big villain monologue to only the salient bits, for her sake more than Richard’s.

“Huh,” he pinches his bottom lip, “wanker.”

“Yeah,” she replies, surprised that he doesn’t say more.

“I’m sorry though.”

“Why are you sorry? Richard’s shitty behaviour has nothing to do with you.”

Is this the right time to tell her that Richard’s ego competition with him was not just all in his head? That whenever Richard’s around Harry makes sure to be a bit more attentive and a bit more of a gentleman? That he gets all smug inside when Charlie’s friends tell him what a good boyfriend he’d be? And that he definitely makes sure to shoot Richard a small smirk whenever their eyes meet at parties?

Probably not.

In his defence, Harry owns up to his petty jealousy.

“Because he wouldn’t have come back to mess with you if those photos never got posted. And being slightly less of a dick than him doesn’t say much. The both of you mean so much to me, I panicked and got insecure, so I lashed out and said those fucked up things.”

“Insecure? Because of Richard?”

His nose scrunches, embarrassed. “He was never my biggest fan, and I just knew that once he got the chance, he would find a way to keep Rory away from me, keep you away from me. That’s like my worst nightmare. And being the main man in Rory’s life, Richard doesn’t deserve that. It’s entitled, selfish, and very wrong, but I can’t help it.”

Charlie goes silent at his little confession. “You’d only spent like, two weeks with Rory. I didn’t realise you’d care so much so quickly.”

“I fell in love with her the moment I heard about her. I felt betrayed and angry, but also enamoured, instantly. I didn’t even need to see her. I missed her before I met her.”

To say that Charlie loves Harry would not only be an understatement, but a mistranslation of something so intense and all consuming. Where had this man come from and why hadn’t she noticed sooner.

“Harry, I –“

“- even if I never got to see her again, I would still think about her, all the time. Just like how I’m always thinking about you.”

Their eyes lock in an intense stare, neither knowing what to do next.

Blinking away some rogue tears, Charlie closes her mouth that involuntarily fell slightly agape and crosses the short distance to make her way to Harry. With trembling hands, she interlaces her fingers with his and squeezes.

“I’m afraid that if I say everything I want to tell you, you’ll get scared and run away.” His voice is hushed. If they weren’t standing so close, she would not have heard him.

“I want to hear them.”

“Okay,” he replies. He’s smiling shyly now.

They both linger in the silence as if instinctively knowing that the rest of this conversation has to happen later. That neither of them are brave enough to have this conversation yet.

That night, he brings his girls out for ramen at his favourite spot. They sit facing each other in a booth at the back of the restaurant with Rory at the head of the table in a baby chair. He asks for the baby chair and a set of smaller utensils without any prompting, in fact, Charlie didn't get the chance to bring it up. He gets his favourite tonkatsu ramen and she gets the shio. When the two steaming bowls get placed in front of them, he reaches for Rory’s bowl, again unprompted, and puts in a couple strands of ramen and some soup, making sure to cut up the noodles with a fork and blow on it until it seems cool enough. In between bites of his own food, he checks to make sure Rory is eating her dinner okay, peeking into her little plastic bowl to make sure she’s not running low on food, as if he’s done this a thousand times before.

Conversation at the table is minimal. Apart from some comments about the food and the restaurant, the main thing that can be heard from their table is baby babble and slurping.

Charlie likes it this way, she thinks, being able to soak in this moment without any urgency to clear the air or lay everything out on the table. Her heart's aflutter the entire time. To anyone in the restaurant, they just look like a regular family having dinner together and this normalcy is quite frankly making her freak out inside.

Dinner ends relatively early – they need to get back in time for bedtime. The guest bedroom now has a cot in it, the exact one Charlie has back home. He’s a little nervous when Charlie starts examining the stuff he bought. He’s not nervous that he bought the wrong stuff, he’s nervous that she’ll think it’s strange that he knew exactly what to get, that he memorised Rory’s bedtime routine all the way down to the temperature of the room.

She doesn’t comment on anything, of course, she just looks at him with stars in her eyes.

-

This trip to London is supposed to be a holiday for Charlie, or at least that is what Harry intended. Fine, a city she’s been to dozens of times is not much of a holiday, but Rory has never been out of Manchester, and he stays in a luxury apartment complex complete with a pool and spa.

In his head, he would kiss Charlie goodbye (just on the forehead for now) and head to rehearsals with Rory on his hip, giving her the whole day to enjoy some time to herself. In reality, the uncertainty when he proposes his idea might as well have been written across her face.

“That sounds nice H, but … this is her first time away from home and I don’t really feel okay with not having here with me.” Charlie’s voice suddenly gets louder when she realises what she is implying. “Not to say that I don’t trust you or anything, you’re her godfather of course, but it’s been –“

“Hey, I get it. Don’t worry about it, I’m not offended. I just want you to have some actual time off. You’ve been through quite a lot these past months.”

“I appreciate it, I really do. No one’s quite as thoughtful as you, H.”

Harry turns away to put away their dishes from dinner in the sink, making sure to tuck his face into his chest as best he can to try and to hide the flush blooming on his cheek.

“Well, I’ve got rehearsals tomorrow but my whole evening is free and there’s a Korean restaurant that’s really good. Let me take you, yeah.”

With her back still turned to him, she teases, “Are you asking me out, Styles?”

“Um, we eat together all the time and I would never –“

“Oh, you would never,” she interrupts in mock offence, “I got the picture.”

“That’s not what I meant. The whole Richard thing was so recent I would never try to do anything.”

“H,” she turns to put her hands on his now tense shoulders, “I was just teasing. Korean sounds good. Thanks, H.”

“I’m happy to,” he says, tilting his head back to bump Charlie’s head.

And he means it.

-

“Hi,” Charlie calls out as she knocks on the door, “sorry we’re early but one of us got a little grumpy. Hope we’re not interrupting.”

Every head in the soundproof room whips around at the new voice. But the person she came in looking for was not one of them.

“Charlie!” Sarah exclaims excitedly, “Hey, not at all we’re almost done. Come in. We haven’t seen you in forever.”

At the mention of her name, everyone else’s face seems to light up with recognition, all joining in with an enthusiastic greeting.

Rory, who was hiding her pouty little face in her mother’s neck, now perks up a tiny bit at the attention.

“And who is this adorable little girl,” Sarah coos, waving a few fingers to try and catch Rory’s attention.

“This is Rory. She might be a little shy because she’s never been around so many people like this before. You wanna say ‘hi’, lovie.” She angles her daughter on her hip to better face Harry’s band and crew.

Despite being in a bad mood the whole day, she refused to take a nap even though she was very patiently rocked for about an hour, Rory is now smiling cheekily, showing off her growing teeth to everyone.

“Can you say ‘hi’?” Charlie prompts again.

Rory drops her head abruptly onto her mother’s cheek. Then, she lets out a noise that vaguely sounds like she’s saying ‘hi’. As if on cue, everyone melts into a puddle of ‘awws’.

“Don’t be fooled she’s not normally this shy. She loves the attention, a little performer.”

With a small smile, Mitch says, “She’s adorable. I see why Harry doesn’t shut up about her. She’s probably his little protégé huh. Maybe our kids can have a little playdate sometime, they’re around the same age.”

“Oh,” Charlie’s caught a little off guard by his revelation, “sure, that sounds nice. She doesn’t get the chance to play with other children too often, I’m worried she won’t learn how to share with how much attention she gets at home.”

“I bet, especially with how much Harry spoils her, huh.”

She can’t stop her cheeks from heating up.

Before she can fruitlessly deny being the object of Harry’s attention, a familiar voice is heard from behind them. “Hey, what’s going on? What are y’all – oh, you guys are early.”

Charlie spins around. “Hi, I hope it’s okay. We didn’t mean to distract everyone.”

“It’s no problem! Monkey is too adorable, how can they not be distracted.” As Harry beelines towards them, his band instinctively makes room for him. “Hi love. Hi monkey.” He gives both Charlie and Rory a kiss on the cheek which causes the little girl to turn her head to look at him. After a couple seconds, her eyes light up with recognition.

Out of the corner of her eye, Charlie sees the band exchange knowing glances.

No longer wanting to be the centre of attention, she insists that everyone get back to work, making her way to the sofa in the corner before anyone can object. (The only person who objects is Rory who tries to make silly faces at her audience for as long as she can.)

“Let’s finish rehearsing so that we can end on time. We don’t want monkey to get too hungry,” Harry instructs.

On the sofa, Charlie sits Rory down next to her. She digs in her handbag for the toys that she always carries with her to hopefully keep her daughter from interrupting the rehearsal. Before she can hand the car to Rory, a larger hand extends into her line of vision with a small pair of green headphones.

“Here, these are for monkey. They should fit her, I double checked to make sure they ordered the right size. I told the band to try and keep it a little quieter, we’ve only got a couple songs left, but just in case maybe she should wear it.”

“You got baby headphones for Rory?”

“Yeah, I want her to come see a show eventually, especially since you said she can recognise my voice, so I went ahead and got these.” The headphones exchange hands and his go behind his back immediately. “I’m not trying to pressure you by the way I was just …”

“H, you don’t need to walk around eggshells around me, or assume that I doubt your intentions.” She quickly scans the room. Satisfied that the other in the room are occupied, she assures softly, “I know you’re not Richard.”

The relief that takes over his body is hard to miss. “I just want to take care of her, and you. The last time I tried to do that I went too far. I don’t want to make that mistake again.”

It’s a surprise that Charlie can see anything because she’s sure she has hearts for eyes. Slow down, don’t get carried away. The reminder doesn’t work, none of the remaining rehearsal registers in her mind, the only time she manages to break out of her reverie is when her daughter starts squirming next to her and trying to take the headphones off. She somehow managed to understand that the music has stopped, so she’s allowed to take them off.

While she’s putting everything back into her purse, Harry thanks everyone for a good rehearsal and sends everyone off with applause. Rory, who has now crawled off the couch, joins in with the excitement by clapping her tiny hands together. Despite producing a negligible amount of noise, Harry manages to see her in his periphery.

“That’s right monkey. Say ‘yay’,” he says while slowly crouching down to meet her eyes. “Say ‘yay’, monkey.”

“Yay!” Rory chimes back.

Harry looks up to meet Charlie’s eyes as if wanting confirmation that that actually happened.

With a downward smile and raised eyebrows, she shoots him a tiny head nod as silent acknowledgement.

When they finally leave for dinner, Harry has Rory in one hand and Charlie’s purse hanging off the other, leaving Charlie to wave goodbye to everyone with a shy smile knowing exactly what this scene looks like.

-

Tonight doesn’t feel like any of the previous nights.  

For a start, Rory isn’t within arms reach of Charlie. And instead of wearing one of the many sensible outfits she brought with her she’s somehow in a dress worth more than her monthly pay.

Harry’s label is throwing a release party tonight, something he conveniently forgot to mention when convincing her to come down to London. An hour into the night, Charlie finds herself sipping on her second glass of champagne and people watching from the sofa at the edge of the room. The dim lights and loud music make her feel safe, like a protective blanket offering some level of anonymity. Not that the party is particularly unsafe. She’s been to enough of Harry’s work events to not feel completely like a fish out of water – smile politely when he introduces her, nurse a glass of whatever to give her hands something to do, and cling to Harry until all the attention becomes too overwhelming. She’s on step three right now, hence the sitting. 

Her palm is damp from the condensation from her glass, the champagne now edging on the side of too warm, but she’s too tired to be bothered, her vision having settled on a comfortable level of blurry.

“Long night?” a voice interrupts.

Her head snaps up to see an unfamiliar man looking down at her with a confident smile.

“Uh, yeah.”

The man moves to sit next to her, forcing her to angle her body to face him.

“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you. I’m Wes.”

She plasters on her polite grin once again and covertly takes a deep breath. “Hi, I’m Charlie. Nice to meet you,” she introduces as she shakes his hand.

“So, why are you sitting all alone with a half drunk glass of bubbly? The night is still young.”

“The night might be but I’m not,” she plays along.

The volume of Wes’ laugh is disproportionate to how funny her joke is.

“Do you want a little pick me up? I’d love if I could have one dance with you.”

Her brows raise when her brain catches on to what is happening. “I don’t know if I have any more dancing left in me,” she says as if she has done any dancing tonight at all.

“That’s fair. Talking’s fine with me too.”

“Oh, you don’t have to sit here with me, I’m fine by myself. Go have fun, find someone else to dance with. The night’s still young after all.”

“Well, you happen to be the most interesting person in the room right now, so I don’t mind sitting here with you.”

Wes’ voice is buttery smooth and his confidence is alluring. Normally her face would flush under all the attention of a self-assured man, however she isn’t feeling it tonight.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Actually, I –“

“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you. Hey, you’re Waz right?”

“Wes, but yeah. Hey Harry, congratulations.”

“Sorry to interrupt, I need to borrow Charlie.”

Without giving Wes room to dispute, Harry tugs Charlie to her feet by the bicep, ditches her champagne flute after shooting the rest of the alcohol, and leads her to the baby room where Rory and Sarah’s baby is being cared for by a babysitter.

When the door shuts behind her, she asks, “You needed me?”

“Hmm?” Harry hums absentmindedly as he peeks into Rory’s stroller.

“You said you needed me?” she tries again.

“Right. I was bored and wanted your company.” He punctuates his words with a dismissive shrug.

“Harry!”

“What? I missed you.”

“Is that all? Really?”

He shrugs again. She rolls her eyes, yet she can’t stop smiling.

They sit on the floor, shoulder to shoulder, backs pressed against the wall in the silent room. Their only companions are the two babies who are sound asleep, and the babysitter who is sitting on a chair in the corner, trying her hardest to seem preoccupied with her phone.

There could be a hundred other people squeezed into this tiny room, but Charlie would still feel like they are the only two people present. Harry just has that effect on her. His talent for making her feel seen and wanted is astounding.

Sitting facing a plain white wall, Harry starts talking about anything and everything. In the middle of his extensive review of all the dessert options at the refreshments table, her hand finds his and interlocks their fingers tightly. She slouches down to rest her head on his bicep. He reciprocates without missing a beat, cheek resting on the top of her head. She can feel his every breath and she’s sure he can feel the same.

She doesn’t notice that her eyes have closed until a loud buzz emits from Harry’s pocket. He doesn’t move to address it, so she lets herself get comfortable again, only to be interrupted again by a stream of vibrations.

“H, your phone.”

“Sorry,” he mutters. His hand enters and exits his pocket quickly then reaches over to encourage her head to lay on his shoulder again.

“Go check it, it may be important.”

He shakes his head. “Nah.”

They return to their conversation with Harry rambling and Charlie humming in affirmation or disagreement. As her eyes flutter shut again, comforted by the low rumbling of his voice, she focuses on his thumb that is now drawing little circles on her palm to stay awake. It doesn’t work very well because she does fall asleep and is only woken up by harsh whispers.

“… this was done for you, so it would be nice if you could be present at your own party. Everyone has been coming up to me to ask about you. And why aren’t you reading my texts?”

“I am present. I’ve said ‘hi’ to everyone, thanked all the important people, and posed for all the photos.”

“But you’re now hiding here. Doing none of those things.”

“Shh, Charlie is asleep, and so are the babies. Don’t raise your voice.”

“Why are you in here playing babysitter when you are supposed to be mingling and making connections?”

“I’m Harry Styles. That trumps whatever connections I could make.”

Then, there’s a loud smacking sound. Her eyes are still shut but any idiot could guess that the Jeff just smacked his forehead in exasperation. She would too if Harry said something so stupid to her.

“At least say goodbye and thank everyone before you leave, okay? Can you do that one thing.”

“Yes dad.”

Charlie gives up her ruse when she hears the door shut. Peeking out of one eye, she whispers, “Is Jeff gone?”

“You cheeky fucker.” Harry cups her jaw and squishes her cheeks together. “You didn’t think to help me out? You just let me get scolded by Jeff?”

She sits up slowly while rubbing her eyes. “Please, you weren’t getting scolded. I’m Harry Styles. That trumps whatever connections I could make. Pfft.”

As she tries to stand, tattooed arms curl around her waist, trapping her to his side. “I don’t appreciate you making fun of me when I got us out of trouble.”

She squirms in his arms and tries to wriggle free with no success. The more she moves the tighter his arms get.

“Us? I am not the man of the hour. This party is not for me rockstar.”

He cups the back of her head with a hand to press her full body against him basically tucking her into his side. “Well unfortunately for you I’m not leaving your side for the rest of the night. So, if I have to go out and mingle, so do you.”

“You little bitch. You begged me to come here with you.”

“I’m a little bitch?” he whisper-shouts in mock offence.

They start play wrestling in their little corner of the room, completely forgetting that there is a stranger in there with them. Their exchange of tickles and pinches causes them to topple over so that they’re now lying on the ground, Charlie’s body pressing into Harry’s with his arms still circling her waist. When they eventually tire themselves out, they remain stacked on top of each other trying to catch their breath.

He starts playing with the ends of her hair, twirling strands around his fingers then releasing it, only to start twirling it again. Lying with the woman who occupies all of his heart, mucking about on the dirty floor, Harry doesn’t think he has felt this content in a long time.

“Thank you for being here with me, it wouldn’t feel right if we didn’t speak throughout this release.”

“Well, I had to be here, for continuity’s sake, I’ve been there since your shitty X Factor audition.” Charlie clears her throat dramatically, then starts to croon, “Isn’t she lovely, isn’t she –“

“Hey fuck you,” Harry says between giggles and starts to tickle her again.

The door suddenly whips open, Jeff’s stern expression in the doorway.

“Good, nap time is over. Now, go mingle with the guests, please.”

Like reluctant children, Charlie and Harry detangle themselves and straighten their clothes, then dart out the door without making eye contact with Jeff. The moment they are out of Jeff’s eyeline, Harry grabs her hand and tugs her towards him, then shoots her a mischievous grin, like a kid with a secret. His energy is infectious, so, she returns the smile and glues herself to his side gleefully, tucking the moment they shared into a safe space in her brain.

It’s well past three in the morning by the time they’re stumbling out of the car, shushing each other repeatedly to avoid waking Rory up. Neither of them are drunk, that would be irresponsible because Rory is with them, but they are certainly not sober either. Harry has Rory’s car seat hooked on his elbow and he digs into his pocket to produce the house keys for Charlie. They ditch their shoes by the door before heading off to get ready for bed. Harry beelines toward the guest room to get Rory settled and Charlie starts doing the nightly check around the house.

Charlie is applying moisturiser when she hears gentle knocks on the door.

Harry stands behind the door in his boxers.

“Miss me already?” she teases.

He nods. Without thinking, she pinches his bottom lip that is jutting out in a pout. “Can we have a sleepover?”

She lets out a small giggle. "Okay."

He peeks into Rory’s crib before crawling into bed. The length of the day is evident in his face and yet, she can’t help but think he looks adorable with nothing but his head peeking out from under the duvet.  

When they started secondary school, they had mutually agreed that they were now too old to have sleepovers. Their usual ‘boy-girl’ activities had to be minimised because they didn’t ‘like each other like that’. Despite being supportive of this decision, Harry remembers how much lonelier his life had become once they stopped spending as much time with each other. He missed getting hello and goodbye hugs, and the way they would lean against each other whenever they would watch tv. The next time they exchanged more than a brief side hug was before his audition. Charlie had grabbed his shaking hands, gave them a firm squeeze, then wrapped him in a hug so tight that he felt his breath catch. His eyes had shut on instinct from the suddenness of everything and the sudden rush of heat that zipped up his body when he felt her body press against his.

Now that Harry has acknowledged that what he feels towards Charlie goes beyond the usual ‘boy-girl’ friendship, he wants to be close to her all the time. He flips onto his belly and rests an arm over her stomach. When that faces no resistance, he curls his fingers around her waist and wiggles closer until he can feel her body heat.

“You mean so much to me,” he mumbles into the pillow, “I need to tell you how much I love you.”

Her body goes rigid under his arm. Neither of them move, their breaths audible in the silence.

“You mean a lot to me too, H,” she whispers.

He sighs.

“Sleep,” he orders, “but stay close to me.”

“Okay, I’m right here.”

-

Harry wakes when a cold breeze creeps its way under the duvet. Just as he reaches for the edge of the duvet, his arm is mysteriously enrobed in warmth again. It takes a second for the action to register and when it does, he forces his eyes open. With half-shut eyes, he takes in the bed he’s on – familiar but not his own.

Charlie.

He’s still on his stomach, arm stretched out over where his companion was. The rustling from the duvet as he moves to sit up against the headboard alerts the room that he’s awake. As he rubs the sleep from his eyes, he spots Charlie who is standing by the crib holding Rory.

He smiles softly at the sight. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she returns his smile. “You can go back to sleep. Rory was just a little fussy in her crib.”

“Bring her here.”

She hesitates for a moment, then makes her way back to the bed. Once Rory is placed on the soft surface, she immediately tries to walk to the middle of the bed, but the plush duvet is too much for her little limbs and she ends up plopping onto her belly with a shocked expression.

Harry giggles at the sweet girl then reaches forward to pick her up by her underarms. “C’mere,” he whispers, then kisses her chubby cheek. “Good morning, monkey.”

“She’ll start whining for breakfast soon. I can take her to the living room if you want to sleep some more.”

He shakes his head with a pout. “I wanna snuggle until breakfast.”

Rory settles against Harry’s bare chest, gnawing on her fist and slobbering all over, completely unbothered by the fact that she’s skin-to-skin with a man for the first time. Charlie joins them under the covers, eyes never leaving her daughter, trying to take in the scene before her. The thought of lying in bed with her daughter and a man she loves had never crossed her mind. Not even before Richard left the first time. Her heart feels like it might beat out of her chest. Like there’s not enough space in her chest to accommodate the amount of love she feels in heart. Even though she woke up with her mind swirling from what Harry said to her before they fell asleep, right now, she can’t think of anything other than how nice this feels.

She leaves about an inch between herself and Harry which is obviously not close enough for him because he wiggles closer to her and rest his head on her shoulder. With the hand not resting on Rory’s back, Harry pats around until he finds hers and intertwines their fingers again.

Unable to help herself, Charlie comments, “You’ve been touchy recently.”

After a quiet minute, Harry asks, “Is that okay?”

“It’s okay,” she replies without thinking twice.

“Can I tell you how much I love you now?”

“Okay,” her whisper is weak.

He takes a deep breath.

“I love you. And I know I love you because no one has made me feel the way you do. I’ve only just accepted that it’s different with you. No one makes me as happy, no one makes me as mad, no one makes me as jealous – I just, I could not function when we weren’t speaking, I’d never felt scared like that before, and I never want to feel like that ever again, I never want to have to worry about never getting to be with you. And you love me too, you have to.”

“Harry.” Harry’s neck aches under the strain of looking up at her. His watches her throat work as she swallows, anxious for her to say more. When she does, it comes in a small whisper, “I love you.”

She doesn’t have to force it past a knot or squeeze it out of her throat. It simply floats out of her, like a sigh of relief.

“Yeah?” Harry’s voice is shaky.

“Yeah.” Charlie’s voice is certain.

Tilting her head down to meet his eyes, she just stares at him with a stupid, toothy grin. Her best friend. Her lover. 

They don’t get to say anything more because Rory knows how to pick her moments and she picks this one. She demands breakfast by wiping her slobbery hand on Harry’s chest, looking up at him expectantly.

By now they’ve spent many mornings like this – Rory sitting in her high chair while the adults move around the kitchen preparing breakfast together – and yet it’s somehow more special today. For a start, Harry and Charlie both wear small smiles the whole time, and whenever they bump into each other or cross paths their eyes dart away shyly, as if they didn’t declare their love to each other a minute ago.

Breakfast is apple cinnamon oatmeal topped with Charlie’s favourite peanut butter (that mysteriously appeared in Harry’s kitchen a couple days ago), with a side of coffee and shy glances over the top of coffee mugs.

He is the first to break the silence. “What are ya thinking about?”

“You.”

“Oh yeah,” he’s smirking now, “what about me?”

Charlie averts her gaze and shrugs coyly.

“Can I tell you what I’m thinking about?” She nods. “I’m thinking about you in that dress from last night. When I saw you in it, my first thought was: I should’ve wanked in the shower.”

“Harry!” she scolds, “My daughter is right here.”

“She doesn’t know what I’m saying.”

“Is this what being in a relationship with you is like? You being incredibly inappropriate?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

She groans and rolls her eyes, getting up to put the dishes in the sink.

Behind her, Harry calls out in a tone that’s only half joking, “For real though, would you like to know?”

She stays silent just to get on his nerves. It doesn’t take long for him to get out of his chair. An arm wraps around her as his body presses up against her.

He drops his voice and whispers in her ear, “Please say you would like to know.”

“I would like to know,” she admits finally. She drops her head back to rest on his shoulder and presses a kiss to the bottom of his jaw.

His face almost immediately turns scarlet. He can’t wait to get used to this.

They next have time alone when Rory has her afternoon nap. The magic of their initial declarations of love fades a little as they sit facing each other with cups of tea on the sofa. Charlie wants to wait for Harry to break the silence, but she knows he’s taking cues from her. She knows he’s careful to not push things too fast after already taking the first step this morning.

With a deep breath, she lays all her cards on the table.

She tells him that despite how assured she is of their feelings for each other, she can’t help but feel hesitant jumping into a new relationship right now. That even though she knows that he loves Rory wholeheartedly, if they were to start dating, he would need to take a step back from Rory’s life because she can’t risk her daughter getting attached to him, only for him to disappear if things go wrong between them. That she doesn’t know if she can handle having a ‘boyfriend’ rather than a ‘partner’, because she’s not looking for someone to mess around with but someone to share half her life with.

He tells her that it’s going to be a lot harder to keep their lives to themselves once everyone notices that they’re spending more time with each other, but he’ll do his best to keep them safe. That he’s willing to go as slow as she needs because he has been waiting for years already, so he can handle waiting some more. That he understands her fears and is willing to take a step back with Rory because he’s confident that she’s it for him. That he’ll bear half her burdens if she’ll bear half of his.

“You don’t have to be Rory’s dad, by the way. Being with me will be hard enough with you living away, I don’t expect you to take on that emotional burden too.”

“Hey,” Harry pinches her chin gently to tip her head up to look at him, “I know what I’m signing up for. I want to take care and provide for Rory in whatever capacity you’ll let me. She doesn’t need to call me dad, or daddy, or anything – she can decide what who I am to her when she’s old enough – but please let me be there for her, and you. The only part of my heart that is not occupied by you is occupied by her.”

“I love you.”

“Say it again, please.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Can I kiss you now, I’ve been waiting all day?”

She barely completes her nod before Harry’s lips are on hers. His hands cup the sides of her face and their foreheads press together with eagerness. There is no hesitation. Every move intentional.

The kiss is not innocent, but needy.

Charlie runs her hands through his hair then tugs on the hair at the top of his neck to cause him to draw back.

“Wha?” he mumbles.

“I needed to see your face to make sure this is real.”

Harry’s brows furrow as if he’s in pain. “I can’t believe it’s you. I’m so happy it’s you.”

She seals their mouths together again, tilting her head just right to get more of him. Needing to anchor herself, her hands move to his shoulders, clutching on to him as if she’s scared he’ll just disappear.

They kiss, and kiss, and kiss. They kiss until they run out of breath, then dive right back in after a few hurried puffs of air. It’s simultaneously too much and not enough.

Harry has to physically peel himself off of Charlie to get himself to stop. Not that he particularly wanted to stop, he was just getting a little too lightheaded. Both from the giddiness of finally getting to taste her and forgetting to breathe out of excitement. He looks drunk with his slow movements and half-lidded eyes. He feels a little high if he’s being honest.

Not wanting to be too far from her, he rests his forehead on her shoulder and starts giggling to himself.

He can’t believe his luck.

-

Harry’s been crawling into the guest bed every night since. Sleeping in the same bed is not exactly ‘taking it slow’ but when he couldn’t sleep alone anymore after experiencing what it’s like waking up with Charlie, especially when she’s just across the hall.

Lots of good chats have happened in this bed. They’ve discussed how their long distance relationship is going to look like, when they would tell Anne about their new relationship, and whether she’ll be less reluctant to receive his gifts now that they are more than friends.

It’s my love language. The more things you let me buy you, the more I know you love me. She rolled her eyes so hard.

“Are you ever going to tell me which songs on the album are about me?” she asks when they’re curled into each other one night.

“Lots of my songs are about you, or could be about you, but guess.”

“Matilda?”  

“Mmhm,” he affirms. “There’s another.”

She hesitates a little. “Boyfriends?” she asks softly.

“No,” he replies immediately, “if I were to write a song about Richard it would be so blatant and damning that he would be embarrassed to show his face in public again.”

“That’s a little dramatic even for you, rockstar.” After giving it another think, she admits defeat. “I don’t know the other. Tell me.”

“It’s Satellite.”

“Really? I like that one.”

“Yeah.” His voice grows soft. “I actually wrote it long ago, just never felt right on the other albums, but I um … I revisited it after that night. After meeting Rory for the first time.”

“Oh.”

“Turns out I’ve wanted to be with you for years. Knowing that you had a child with Richard made me so envious – he got to be a part of your life in a way that I thought I’d never get a chance to. I didn’t wanna just be in your orbit anymore, I wanna be with you.”

“You’re with me now. You’re here.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“I know Keep Driving is definitely not about me and frankly, I’m glad. You need to keep that shit to yourself from now on.”

“So … you don’t want me singing about how satisfied I make you?” he asks in jest.

“If you plan on making me listen to you sing about us having sex next to your mum and sister, we will never have sex .” When he starts to chuckle, she threatens again, “I’m being serious. I’ve gone over a year without having sex, and I can go longer.”

“That’s because you were having sex with small dick Richard. When I get to love on you the way I want to, you’ll want to let everyone know how good I make you feel.”

“You’re talking big game Mr. Watermelon Sugar.”

Harry pinches her chin to tip her head up. With his lips about an inch from hers, his says in a low voice, “And I plan on delivering.”

He seals his promise by slotting their lips together for what feels like the thousandth time that evening.

After Charlie falls asleep in his arms, Harry forces his eyes to stay open so that he can maximise his time with his best girls. When he can’t fight sleep any longer, his mutters one last ‘I love you’ and drifts off knowing that he’ll get to spend time with his favourite family again the next morning.

-

“Good evening Manchester!” Harry shouts into the microphone. The roar of the crowd widens the grin on his face. “Thank you for choosing to spend your evening with us. I promise that this is going to be a very, very special show.”

He slowly makes his way onto the runway.

“I always love playing shows here because this is basically a hometown show for me. And I don’t know if you guys feel it, but I feel like there is something in the air tonight. Something quite magical.”

The crowd erupts once again.

It’s probably not good practice to talk up one venue too much, that’s why most artists have a pretty standard spiel for every night, but he can’t help himself tonight. Even if he didn’t say it, everyone in the stadium could probably feel it. There is more pep in his step and the adrenaline rushing through his veins has never been this aggressive.

“Manchester, I have a special request for all of you.” He puts a finger to his lips as if he is a shushing the audience. “There are some important audience members amongst you today. So, I need all of you to go extra crazy and have an extra good time, because I’ve got some people to impress. Can you do that for me?

“This next song is for my best friend.”

Harry gets swallowed by screams as the intro to Late Night Talking starts to play.

-

liked by harryupdates, harryfan1, and 2,821 others

hstourupdates harry on stage in manchester tonight during late night talking

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harryfan1 wait who did he say that to?

harryfan2 i think he was talking to anne and gemma because he did that in their direction

↳ stylesontour there was another woman with a baby standing with them

↳ directioner1 it was his best friend charlie with them and harry was photographed with her daughter a while ago

↳ stylesfan1 wait what if he was pointing to charlie's baby because he kept looking at them and doing little waves 😩

harryfan3 to be harry's best friend 😭

taglist: @harrysfolklore @behindmygreyeyes @suspectedstyles @celestial-holland @xcaitlin101x @outofthisworl-d @haz-nn @zaynshoes @lissymarie22@duh-dobrik @harrysfinelines @rach2602 @percysaidnever @sunshinemoonsposts @sqrlgrl22

[books]

Writer Spotlight: Claire Ahn

Claire Ahn grew up in Seoul, Korea, which she still considers home. She moved to New York to attend university and now lives in Long Island City with her husband, newborn daughter, and their dog, Dante. Claire writes about transcultural experiences and the traditions, values, and legacies that shape who we are. I GUESS I LIVE HERE NOW is her debut novel. Click through to read about mouth-watering food and homesickness remedies, and for some really good writing advice.

Can you tell us a little bit about how you came to write I GUESS I LIVE HERE NOW?

I think most debut authors would probably divulge this, but the first novel is always a bit of a circuitous path. You can never really pinpoint the beginning of the first because it’s just this blurry idea you had years ago that somehow—through repetitive classes and workshopping and rejections—becomes a novel. I suppose this idea was conceived back in 2016, but it’s gone through many transitions, from a children’s book to a middle-grade book, then a young adult novel, and within it, about four to five full revisions. 

I started writing to release stress from a grueling job in public relations, where writing felt so formulaic and not at all creative. I’ve always loved storytelling, and was told PR is the world of storytelling as a profession, but it wasn’t enough to fill the creative well in me. So I took up course writing at Gotham Writers Workshop, which is how this all began for me. Plus, I got free wine every week. How could I have stopped attending? 

You’ve written your own experience in reverse, going from New York to Seoul, and made it YA. What were some challenges you faced in doing so? 

From a craft perspective, it was hard to write Seoul as if it was the first time. Everything there feels second nature to me, from the street foods to the lavish grocery stores and intensely beautiful cafe culture. It’s never a shock when I go back home, so having to write it fresh was hard. Hopefully, I somewhat successfully captured the newness of it from Melody’s eyes. From a personal experience perspective, my constant fear is that someone in my life will be convinced a flawed character was inspired by them! Woof. If you’re reading this, close friend or family member, this is not the case! 

Melody and her friends are all navigating parental expectations while trying to make their way in the world. What do you hope readers take away from seeing these character dynamics represented?

 Am I the only one feeling like I sometimes live my life intensely trying to please my parents? Oh God, I hope not. I hope readers feel seen and less alone in having dreams that may defy the wishes of parents or guardians or even of peers and the capitalistic society in which we live. I hope readers feel reminded that they can simply be. They can have lofty dreams like Melody, or they can want to dream of being comfortable and accepted in their skin, like Kimbeom, or they can just want to live in their present, and that is all okay and good. Let’s change the narrative of having to stamp influential footprints in this world. 

Seoul is your home, but you live in Long Island City. How do you approach writing about being in between two cultures, and what’s your favored remedy for homesickness?

I think I operate on a default state of longing and clinging. I’m always longing to visit Seoul any chance I get, and I live in a state of clinging onto my culture tighter than my high school banquet dress. I release myself from those states of being by writing stories where I get to pretend like I’m in Seoul again or where I imagine my life as a teen in New York, fresh from Korea. My favored remedy for homesickness is buying a plane ticket to Seoul and immediately texting my friends back home that I’ll be there soon. Then, every day until I’m on that plane, I dream of being surrounded by faces like mine, speaking in my native tongue, and stuffing my face with high-quality rice cakes (dduk). Does that sound sad? I swear I love my life in New York, too. 

The descriptions of food in IGILHN are incredible. What’s your favorite Korean dish, and can you make our mouths water describing it?

Thank you! You know, I didn’t know food was a theme in the book until people pointed it out. Food is such a deeply ingrained part of Korean culture that it wasn’t an intentional ploy, but as it turns out, it is impossible to write a book set in Seoul without a proper description of the bounty of food on offer. My favorite dish has got to be my mom’s homemade galbi jjim, braised short ribs. I can’t even eat ones from a restaurant because it tastes horrible compared to her concoction. It’s a common holiday dish for New Year’s or Chuseok, but for me, it was the dish my mom made every time I landed in Seoul from New York. An expression of love poured into a dish that takes hours to make. I always imagined her making it in the kitchen the night before I arrived, eagerly waiting for her younger daughter to come back home. It’s a thoughtful dish because it’s not something you can whip up at a moment’s notice, and if you try to, you will never mimic a galbi jjim that has been simmering for hours. It’s both a deliciously sweet and intensely aromatic and savory dish. When done right, the meat falls off the bones at the softest pull with chopsticks, and it’s generously coated with a sauce made from Korean radishes, jujubes, pears, chestnuts, and garlic. As my husband says, it’s a ‘flavor explosion.’ 

What made you want to be a writer? What advice can you give to budding writers working on transcultural narratives?

I’ve always wanted to be a writer, but growing up in an Asian household, I wasn’t made aware that writing was a chosen profession. I was sort of led to believe it was something you did on the side of your ‘real’ job, which just meant making a stable income with the goal of homeownership. As a daughter of immigrants, stability was highly valued in our household, so writing wasn’t really a ‘serious’ option. But I wrote my first play when I was in the second grade, a whopping eleven pages of some friends living on Mars, spying on Earth people.

My advice would be to find a writing community and celebrate small milestones. I couldn’t have gotten here without my group of writers that I met through Gotham Writers; equally, I might have given up if I wasn’t so damn good at celebrating even the stupidest things: Submitted a manuscript? Buy myself a typewriter! Read a book during a desolate book lull? Eat my favorite ice cream! The journey to finding an agent, revising, then selling your book, then revising again (and again and again and again), then finally seeing it hit shelves (which I haven’t yet) is LONG! So, unless you’re a total Grinch and happy to be one, celebrate; because you can’t go years without that celebratory joy to keep you motivated. 

What does Melody’s Tumblr look like? Obviously, she’s got some interior design in there, but what else does she post? What’s the vibe like?

The vibe is definitely a modern cafe look with a splash of pop, which is also her fashion style. Isn’t our Tumblr vibe just a digital reflection of our fashion? Mine definitely was. Mel’s Tumblr is probably like Comme des Garcons meets Alexander Wang. 

IGILHN is your debut novel—what’s next for you?

I’m working on my second book now, and it’s not set in Seoul! It’s set right here, in my second favorite city, New York. Everyone says book two is the worst. Surprisingly, I don’t want to rip my eyes out, and I’m thoroughly enjoying exploring my new fictional friends and their immigrant families and New York’s Asian food culture. Soup dumplings have already made their way into my pages multiple times. I can’t share too much yet, but I hope it stays as fun as it’s been so far and that it finds its people. 

Thanks so much for answering our questions, Claire! I GUESS I LIVE HERE NOW will be hitting shelves on May 24. That’s today in a week! 

[filthforfriends]

Chapter 13

Alpha!Damiano Omegaverse

Read chapters 1-12 on my Masterlist!

TW: Contains r-word. Text will be in red.

The rest of the school had Friday off, but not the clubs and teams. Today was competition day and the transport van picked you up at 8:15 am. The yellow and blue uniform was sexless, a pair of loose trousers and a t-shirt. It was still chilly in the mornings, so you wore a long sleeve under it.

“You know, we won’t have a lot of time to do makeup when we get there.” commented Rosemary, as you climbed inside. 

“I’m not wearing makeup,” you scoff. If any extracurricular wasn’t going to be part beauty pageant, it should be aerospace engineering. 

“Oh…Well, everyone else will because they’ll be taping it.” Rosemary’s unfiltered honesty wasn’t unlike Thalia’s.

“What?” you exclaim in horror.

“Taping, not broadcasting,” clarifies Mx. Varela. “It's standard procedure to prevent cheating.”

“Oh, okay,” you sigh, senses still heightened. “So will there be photographers there?”

“Yes,” answers, an annoyed voice from behind you. 11th grader and alpha Bremen who was on the competitive team last year and this year was an alternate. Phrases such as “diversity hire” hang over your head like a dark cloud. The demographic specifications to qualify became progressively more intricate as extracurriculars sought to be more inclusive and fair. 

It started as “Each team must have four competitive members and two alternates to participate in events.” Naturally, the entire team was comprised of seniors. 

So things evolved to “Each team must have four (4) competitors and two (2) alternates, with each grade represented via at least one (1) team member, in order to participate in events.” Every competitive team that year was exclusively 11th and 12th years. It was a stupid oversight with an addendum drafted before the season was over. “The competitive team must include lowerclassmen.”

And that was all fine and good. For nearly a decade, the academic regulations of beta exclusive societies were identical to those with alphas and omegas. But last year something changed, a departure from B.E. societal standards. There was a controversial, new addendum, passed by no more than two votes.

“In applicable districts, alphas, betas, and omegas must all be represented for a team to qualify.”

So you had to prove yourself, and learned that genius is largely a self-perpetuating cycle. Bremen was so confident in his intelligence that he’d convinced other people too. At first, it seemed like he was just getting his ego stroked, because everyone agreed that he was one One of the Smart Ones. But then you’d watched him correctly solve a problem at grade level, throw down his pencil in victory, and sit back with a gratified smirk. “Oh course, Bremen's already done!” “I’d expect nothing less from a math whiz.” “Don’t you ever lose that edge, it's gonna serve you well.” 

After the circle jerk was over, you looked to Mx. Varela. They had a weary, take-no-shit expression on, probably the only other person in the room that realized Bremen could burp and the masses would attribute it to his shining IQ.  

“Refocus, please.” Mx. Varela looked to where you sat on the other side of the room, sneakily doing your engineering homework because you’d finished the worksheet. Your heart stopped at getting caught. It’s not like you wouldn’t do your homework in other classes as well, but this was a special case. The instructor was doing you a favor by offering five hours a week worth of credit for three hours worth of work.

“You realize you’re gonna have to speak to the rest of the team?” Mx. Varela snatches the paper off the table and checks your work with a raised eyebrow. They flip to the back side, then quickly to the front side once more.

“This is all correct. Did you do all this on your own?” The hidden accusation catches you off guard.

“I don’t need to cheat on 11th grade math! It’s literally what we’re learning right now with some basic reasoning.”

“Basic reasoning?” Your instructor is smiling in a way that reveals you’ve just screwed yourself. “You’re bored because you’ve got one of those minds that reads math instead of solving it.”

“I…guess. It feels like making inferences.” At this point Bremen and two other team members are staring. Mx. Varela holds up your finished assignment.

“If you want an answer key, just use this. We’ll move to more advanced practice now.” You hide a laugh behind your hand. The three sets of eyes boring into your profile kept the moment from feeling like victory.

Bremen had decided how he felt about you the second he realized your status. Fortunately, the other team members came to respect your intelligence in the last two weeks. Being liked is another goal entirely, and Mx Varela hadn’t set you up for success by calling your paper the answer sheet. Alpha friendships didn’t make you envious, because they were unachievable. However, seeing the easy comradery between the betas and alphas felt like standing on the other side of a glass wall. Ever the watcher, never the participant.

“Okay, a reminder,” Mx. Valera turns around from the passenger seat to address six grumpy teenagers.

“Y/n’s the only one that needs reminders,” murmurs Bremen.

“What the hell have I done to you?” you finally snap.

“Y/n, team, none of that. We go in as one unit, we succeed as one unit.” Your face burns and it feels like everyone inside the van stares at you. It's a small, stuffy space and there's no way to hide from view.

“Remember these are just the benchmark rounds. Today it's 280 points, so focus on meeting that score, and we’ll be good.”

“Basically impossible,” Sebastian murmurs. Mx. Valera sighs and takes a beat. 

“Focusing on meeting benchmark scores rather than winning will not only guarantee us a place, but it’ll leave us much better prepared for more challenging competitions.” The resentment from that moment of injustice sat in your gut like a hot coal. Blood rushed in your ears, making it difficult to hear. You step out of the van with tunnel vision, being the first to stand in front of the Romero Public High flag. Next time you’ll wear Dami’s scarf. 

“Want me to do your makeup?” offers Sommer, a 12th year alpha. 

“Sure,” you respond, with a forced smile. It was an act of friendship, comradery between competing team members. You had no interest in being visually appealing to other alphas. However it seemed that everyone was made-up, and being the odd man out didn’t help your nerves nor your approachability. 

“I didn’t know about all the politics when I joined. I was just trying to get the Aerospace 101 credit.” Sommor scoffs.

“The stuff we do is so much more advanced. Look down.” She applies something to your eyelid. The garish carpet pattern is a real eyesore.

“So when did you find out you were the affirmative action hire?” Sommer intends it to be more humorous than malicious, so you decide to laugh. 

“Rosemary explained it to me.” 

“It’s cool that you get Rose, because most of us don’t. She’s super smart though and that's what matters.” Something inside you twists. This supposed bonding moment felt treacherous to your only sort-of friend on the team. The whole interaction, Sommer’s monotone voice and flawless makeup, lacked a regard for anything but her own amusement. So badly you want to speak up and demand an ounce of authenticity, but you stay silent as she applies mascara. 

“Look up.” Behind her, other teams filed into the arena in their brightly colored uniforms. “I’ve never marked anybody, but you must miss him. Damiano, right?” 

“I’m fine on my own,” you shrug. It wasn’t a lie. Marked or not, you were happy to do things in the peace of your own company without Dami. However, in this particular moment, having someone that made you feel understood would be a great relief. If the event hadn’t been closed to the public, Dami would be sitting directly across the room, so whenever you looked up, he was in your line of sight.

“All non-essential personnel, please exit the arena. Competitive team members only.” As instructors herded the alternates out of the arena, a pattern became very apparent. Every single set of alternates contained an omega. A quick glance at the online rosters confirmed what you already knew: you were the only omega competing in the six teams. 

Mx. Valera’s hand on your shoulder makes you jump several inches in the air. Some administrator is ordering them to go to the viewing room with everyone else. All the anxious voices blend together, but you get the jist.

“I had no idea that my colleagues would conduct themselves with such overt bias. I am sorry, y/n. It will be addressed.” This is where someone substitutes in on your behalf, so the stupid little omega can go be quiet in a corner with her brethren. Except no one does. There are just announcements upon announcements while you scan the arena for a single person like you. A judge, an administrator, the guy who hands out extra pencils, but you are the only omega in this giant room, which is suddenly a dangerous place to be.  

 “This can’t be happening,” you murmur. “Regulations, they wouldn’t…” The real trouble comes when the alphas realize you’re the only omega in the room. Hair up to show your mark is the first thing to do. It had just begun to scar. You rub the uneven skin just beside your scent gland.

“Y/n, hey –” Sommer snaps her fingers in front of your face and you bat her hand away without thinking. There's no telling who’s more surprised at your act of defensiveness. Rosemary points to the sheet in front of you. It’s the first prompt of the day. When you look back up to get your bearings, she puts a calculator in your hands. This, at least, you can do on autopilot, but it's hard to focus with your skin crawling.

Everytime you look up there's twice as many alphas staring as you’d anticipated. At first they’re just curious, then interested. They talk to each other in low tones, making sure that they’re not the only ones seeing this single, lone omega. The hum of their voices makes you clamp your hands over your ears. Rosemary has to pry them away and put a pencil in your hand, gesturing to the equations they’d come up with. 

“God, she’s so slow today,” complains Sommer. You force yourself not to check, but possibility becomes the most terrifying of all. If you don’t look up now, how close could an alpha get before you finally do scan the surroundings? With such a crowded room, the answer is right on top of you. The answer is with its teeth to your neck.

 The other three talk, but you just operate as a human calculator, solving whatever Rosemary hands your way. You remind yourself that your pheromones aren’t enticing to most of, if not all these alphas. You’re marked, but that matters significantly less as the only omega in sight. There isn’t a better option.

“Y/n? Y/n, these numbers are too big. It doesn’t make sense.” You’re going back over your work when a buzzer goes off.

“Pencils down, an administrator will come by to collect your work.”

“But I’m not done.” Even Rosemary’s gaze holds animosity. Sommer arranges the papers in the folder refusing to speak to or even look at you.

“Did you finish?” Mx. Valera asks. The silence is enough of an answer.

“Well that's fine, only half the teams finished.”

“So we’re in the bottom 50%? Y/n, what the fuck was that? Were you having a seizure?” You’d like to deliver a searing retort to put Sommer in her place, but the words get stuck as she intimidates you.

“Sommer, stop. How far did you get? I couldn’t see at the very end.” You wait for someone to answer, looking at Rosemary when the team remains silent. “Y/n?”

“Yes?” You’re backed up against the desk, trying to achieve some personal space, but everyone seems to be looming. “Where are the alternates?”

“How far did you get?”

“If I had like 30 seconds, I could’ve fixed the mistake. I'm sorry, I was just…”

“So to the very end?” There's hope in Mx. Valera’s eyes, but it doesn’t make you feel better. Even as a couple omega alternates scurry over to the bathroom, all eyes are on you. Figuring this is the safest time to break away from the group, you mutter an “excuse me” and grab your bag before heading towards the bathroom. Being the object of everyone’s attention is never a good feeling, but right now in particular, it makes your eyes and skin burn. An alpha shoulder checks you as he brushes by then laughs as you scramble not to eat shit on the cheaply carpeted floor. The message was clear: you are not supposed to be here. 

I want my mommy is your first thought. Your second is no, I want my alpha. There was a district wide soccer tournament starting this evening, but Romero wasn’t playing until Sunday. That would make this weekend the first time Damiano had two days off in god knows how long. He did best with an occupied mind, but everyone needs rest, especially after such a rough patch. You’d be denying him that.

Of course, your mind goes exactly where he’d want it to. Dami in your kitchen four days ago, cooking some heavenly chicken dish. Where most alphas would simply say “make sure you eat a good meal and go to bed early. My omega’s health is important to me.” He asked nothing of you, cooking dinner and rubbing your back until you fell asleep at 8pm.

“I want you to know that you don’t need to be frightened, love. Things seemed pretty dire for a sec, but I’m doing so much better. I need you to know that I’m okay. I feel steady, so you can lean on me.” At the time, you were literally laying on his chest, not just hearing his words but sensing the vibration under his sternum as well. “I’m okay,” he repeats. “I’m okay.” And he was. 

The tears on your cheeks evidenced how much you needed to hear those words out loud, because it took years for Thalia to be okay. Clio had yet to get there. You’d been bracing yourself, subconsciously. Damiano grasped both clenched fists, tendons straining, nails creating crescent shaped bruises as they dug into the meat of your hand. He unfurled them, kissing your palms, coaxing you to relax with the knowledge that he no longer needed a safety net. He was not a fall risk.

***

“Hey, baby,” he croaks. “Everything okay?” Fuck. Calling him was a horrible idea. You’re already wiping away tears. The warmth in his tone is such a stark contrast to the rest of this morning. 

“Y/n? What’s going on?” You’d woken him up on essentially a weekend, when most weekends he had to get up early too. And what now? Damiano wasn’t allowed inside, no matter how hard you wished the rules to be otherwise. Piling guilt on to the rest of your emotional baggage was about to be the final straw.

“You’re scaring me. Say something.”

“Something,” you manage, in a shaky tone. Damiano had seen you cry in the past year more than anyone, but not these kinds of tears. He clears his throat and you can hear the rustle of bedsheets as he sits up.

“Okay, I’m awake. Where are you? I’ll come get you.”

“This stupid fucking competition,” you sigh heavily, then choke. It's not quite a sob.

“Right, okay. How closed to the public is it? Like is there security?” He’s not joking, but you still laugh. 

“Um…could you pick me up? It supposed to be over at 10 but the next round is uh…” you search for a clock or a directory, “Fuck I don’t remember. I feel like it's gonna be done way before then.” 

“And it's the conference hall right by LHS?” You purposely bang your forehead on the wall.

“Fuck, your old school is gonna be here.” Maybe that's why they were staring. “How much do I smell like you?” 

“Uh…enough? It's recognizable.”   

“Okay, good,” you say with a sigh. Staring because you were Dami’s mate was something you could live with.

“They’re giving you a hard time.”

“I’m a zoo animal.” A five minute warning is announced and the panic tightens in your chest. “Time to go jump through some fiery hoops.”

“I’ll brush my teeth and leave. I’ll be there whenever you’re done, kitten.” You roll your eyes at the nickname. It had started out cute but now only one of you found it cute (it was Dami).

“Do your hair and stuff too, if you want.” Being seen by people from Laurel High, his old school, was going to be tough.

“I thought you liked the man bun!” 

“I love the man bun, but I know looking your best –”

“Makes it easier to jump through fiery hoops?”    

“Exactly.” A two minute warning sounds. “Okay I have to go, I love you.”

“I love you too. Go be a rocket scientist!” You steel yourself before walking back to the podium. Purposefully, you veer by Laurel High School. When they stare you bite back like you’ve wanted to all day.

“Do I know you?” 

“Jesus christ,” Bremen murmurs as he walks past you, He shakes his head in distaste, commiserating with the Laurel High competitors through mutual eye rolling and scoffs at your behavior. What an annoying, upetty omega. He would side with your competitors before having an ounce of respect.

“Have fun watching me compete,” you sneer.  

“You know, you think that people don’t like you because you’re an omega. Actually, people don’t like you because you’re a bitch.” It's so hateful that you’re caught off guard. LHS “ooh” and “ah” at your expense. After all, there's no better entertainment than watching an omega be put in their place. Sommer grabs you by your arm and hauls you over to the Romero flag.

“Ignore them. I like the fact that you’re a bitch.” But I don’t want to be a bitch at all. Was that the only option if you stood up for yourself? Of course you also acted on the offensive and what else did that make you if not bitch? Did Damiano think of you as a bitch, in the pseudo-affectionate way Sommer did? That thought felt the same as guilt, a tear-wrenching, yanking sensation from inside your ribcage. What a swell time to have a personality crisis. 

Mx. Valera comes to wish you luck before the second prompt is handed out. They’re pissed on your behalf, which is a nice sentiment, but doesn't solve anything in the here and now. The best strategy is to stay with the team, because at least Rosemary won’t let an pissed off alpha corner you. In that case, all you could hope for is that taunts don’t become retribution for merely existing in their space.

“Why do we leave at 10 if the competition is gonna finish at like 9:40?” 

“It’s so all the teams can meet. We call it Nerd Conference,” Rosemary explains, as the papers are handed out, face down. 

“You call it Nerd Conference,” mumbles a usually silent Sebastian, the forth team member. Thank god you’d called Damiano. Maybe the omegas would be treated like real team members,  but more likely they’d be huddled in a corner while the betas and alphas enjoyed some comradery. If a team placed poorly, their alphas would want to take it out on something, and that something would be you.

“Begin.” They’re staring at me because I smell like Dami. They’re staring at me because they recognize his pheromones. These are the phrases you kept chanting to reduce the compulsion to look up every five seconds. At first it worked, but then fear won over and you have to focus everything on keeping the numbers straight. Mathematically, it was a surprisingly difficult problem for so early in the competition. Doable, but you needed a second sheet of paper.

“At least two of the teams are stuck,” narrated Rosemary as you handed the calculations to Sommer. While implementing the numbers, you checked your work over her shoulder. Something raises the hair on the back of your neck and makes you whip around. It’s just an administrator, doing his rounds to prevent cheating, but your heart rate still goes sky high. It dawns on you that there is no way to avoid being followed out of the building. All you can do is get to Damiano, or rather get in his line of sight. The AD2 part of him would welcome a challenge.

“How long until this is over?” You keep looking at the doors, convincing yourself he is on the other side and all you have to do is calculate the fucking trajectory of the capsule release to get to him. 

“Six minutes and 49 seconds,” answers Rosemary. “Here.” As she passes the paper back, you become aware that the timer is the only thing keeping these alphas at their station. When it goes off,  they’ll be free to roam, and temporarily, you’ll be the only omega in sight. One versus 35 alphas and betas that think you don’t belong here. 

“Any teams still stuck?”

“Yes.”

“Is Laurel High one of them?”

“Doesn’t look like it.”

“Damn it.”

“Are you stuck?”

“No,” you shove the calculations across the desk. You should be done with your part of the prompt, and now there's nothing to occupy your mind except feeling like prey. LHS is watching you with self-satisfied smirks, convinced you’ll fail again. Other alphas are curious how you’re holding up, and each so clearly took pleasure in watching you squirm. The question becomes how many of them are marked or mated, which is what you’re trying to discern when Rosemary announces the team is finished. There's 17.9 seconds on the clock and you all huddle, checking each of your calculations.

“The numbers make sense,” Sommer breathes in a sigh of relief. 

“So can I go?” She snatches your wrist and holds it forcefully. 

“Wait or we’ll get disqualified,” she orders, using her alpha temperament to force compliance. You stare at the carpet until the timer buzzes.

“Now can I go?”

“Go where? They haven’t scored us yet.” The other teams have relaxed, some people even checking their phones after stepping away from the desk. 

 “Bye.” When Sommer doesn’t stop you, it's clear that the actual competition is over. You’ll skip the feeding frenzy and make minimal eye contact while heading to the exit.

“Nice job omega!” It's unclear whether the words are genuine, but the tone is certainly condescending. Someone laughs and your face heats up. You looked like a child in comparison to all the other competitors. Plain faced and anxious, you were the one cropped out of photographs. Or worse, included so the publication didn’t get attacked by Equalitarians. 

In the lobby, are parents of children who lived more locally, early to pick up. Damiano is in the parking lot, if he’s here yet, so you keep your eyes on the window next to the exit. If you can make it out that door, you’ll be free. You’re so focused that Damiano has to physically step in your path to gain your attention. His concern is thinly veiled as he takes your backpack, so beautiful you can’t believe he’s yours. Dami would know to get done up, he wouldn’t have made this mistake. Maybe that's why they were staring. Clearly, he’d marked you, but how had someone so average looking managed that? 

“Baby, c’mere,” he whispered. You’d just stood there pathetically, arms limp at your sides until Damiano’s beauty brought you to tears. Even as he hugged you, you were frozen.

“I think it’s incredibly brave, what you’re doing,” compliments an omegan father next to you.

“Uh, thanks.” You wipe the tears on your sleeves and notice all the black smudges from forgotten mascara. “Oh fuck, do I look like a racoon?” 

“No,” Dami answers in a hushed voice with a tight smile. His eyes keep darting to just below the right side of your face. He says the perfect pleasantry with the perfect gesture and steers you out of the door. The cold morning air is refreshing and a bit painful on your wet cheeks. You can’t help but compulsively check behind you every couple seconds.

“Don’t worry about being followed. I’m here now.” Damiano’s hand finds yours on the way to the car. You’d expected a barrage of questions about your well being, but he was contemplative, probably struggling to calibrate his reaction.

“I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“Don't apologize. I’m glad you did.” He squeezes your hand and falls silent again. He wasn’t angry, but there was something plaguing him.

“Are you okay?” Damiano stops walking and winces with his eyes squeezed closed.

“Am I okay?” he repeats under his breath, shaking his head. “I should have been the first one to ask that.”

“I’ll be fine as soon as we get out of here.” Behind you is the repeated click of the door opening as people filter out.

“Y/n! Y/n!” Sommer’s hurried footsteps come up from behind. You steel yourself to face her, but end up looking at Dami’s back as he steps in front.

“Jesus fucking christ Dam, I’m not gonna hurt her. We’re on the same team!” You wrap an arm around Dami and lean into his side. You didn’t need to puff out your chest and prove to everyone that you were strong despite being an omega. He was your strength.

“We’re about to leave Sommer.” She rolls her eyes, breathless from excitement.

“I just wanted to say that you don’t need to be sad about messing up or whatever because we broke 300! We got second place.” Damiano smiles with pride, jostling you so you’d take a moment to celebrate.

“I wasn’t upset because of the score. It’s a science club and they still treat omegas like they’re inferior. Nobody wanted me there!” The smile falls from Damiano’s face as you turn to him. “Can we just go?” He nods, unlocking his car and leaning over to put your bag in the backseat. While he’s doing so, Bremen rushes out of the building, scanning the parking lot for someone.

“Valera is looking for you,” he yells.

“Bremen, I already said I’d find her, go be obsessed with someone else.” He bristles.

“Whatever. An administrator told me to find her. I guess they’re worried that if y/n crosses the street without someone holding her hand she’ll forget to look both ways and get hit by a car,” he laughs. Apparently his view of Damiano was blocked. You put a hand on your alpha’s back so he doesn’t react right away. Sommor looks at you and Dami, then back at Bremen with wide eyes.

“Can you just shut up for once,” she prompts, gesturing at him to stop talking. Bremen’s easily wounded ego is hurt by Sommor siding with someone else. If only he knew she was trying to help him.

“You’re the one who came up with the diversity hire jokes! She solves one problem correctly –”

“‘Diversity hire?’” Damiano growls, straightening up. Sommer shrinks back and Bremen looks cornered. Two alphas against one should have an obvious outcome, but Dami is stronger than them and he’s also really fucking scary when he wants to be.

“It really makes you that insecure that she’s more intelligent than you.”

“She’s not –” Bremen starts, then promptly closes his mouth.

“She’s not what?” Dami stalks towards him like a lion hunting antelope. Taking a step back would be admitting subservience. Bremen hasn’t caved in yet, but it's a matter of seconds.  

“You think her safety is a joke. I take her safety very seriously,” he snarls. “If you ever were to compromise –”

“I would never,” Bremen shakes his head, taking two steps backwards.

“I know, because I know what a jealous alpha looks like.” He glances at Sommor for confirmation and she nods her head. 

“Brem, you – he wanted to make the new omega on the team his mate.” Damiano hums, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

“It’s pathetic that you’re taking it out on her.” Pathetic was a pretty brutal insult from one alpha to another. “If you have an issue with the fact that she belongs to someone, you’re gonna take it up with me.” He’s almost whispering. “Do you have an issue with the fact that I chose her to be my omega?”  

“No,” Bremen whispers, shaking his head.

“Do you take issue with me marking her?”

“No.” 

“And when I make her my mate, will that be a problem?” 

“No.” Damiano turns on heel, and walks back to you. His face is still contorted with anger. What you don’t expect is his fingers along your neckline. He pulls the necklaces you still put on every morning out of your shirt.

“Do you see these? They’re mine and I knew she’d be wearing them because she wears them everyday, even though I’ve never asked her to. Do you understand? You are nothing to her,” he spits. Damiano opens your door and you sit down, shell shocked by the turn of events for several minutes.

“Uh, sorry.” Dami looks sheepish and his hand is hesitant as it takes yours. “My territorialism…I could have handled that better.” You shake your head, bringing his palm to your cheek. He takes it back only to turn off the highway and into a residential area.

“That's my childhood home.” He points to a one story brown house that sits up against the woods. “The people that live there now have like a dozen cats. We moved when I was 11 and again when I was 15.”

“Big backyard,” you guess.

“Exactly,” he smiles. “And this is Blue Creek Park. It's a little nature preserve, but people outside the neighborhood don’t come here because it’s on the other side of the freeway.” The gravel crunches below the tires as Dami pulls into a small parking lot of only five spaces. “Sandro and I did a few legally questionable things here as kids.” He parks the car and turns towards you. The keys jingle as Damiano drops them in an empty cup holder. Isabella had color-coded them some time ago. The brightly colored rubber borders were dirty.

“Y/n, why were you crying?” You keep looking at the cupholders. Dami puts a finger under your chin and raises your gaze to his. Keeping your shit together was hard with all that affection and empathy directed your way.

“Why did that man say you were brave?”

“It’s stupid, I don’t want to talk about it.” You look back down. A drop from your last latte had fallen, staining the tan-colored hard plastic.

“Well, you’d never let me get away with that.”

“Not wanting to talk about something?”

“Yeah, you always make me face it, even if I don’t want to.”

“Sounds like I’m a pretty shitty girlfriend,” you mutter and curl into a ball in the passenger seat. Damiano is coming to recognize this body language as overwhelmed to the point of defensiveness.

“What? No, that wasn’t the implication, kitten.” God damn it.

“Don’t call me that.”

“We’re not leaving until you tell me why you called me crying because you’ve never done that before.”

“And maybe I’ll never do it again!” Damiano’s leg starts bouncing. He probably knows they’re just words, but the prospect of not being allowed to protect you is anxiety-inducing. Threatening him, this whole interaction was miles away from the point.

“Ugh!” You get out of the car with your arms crossed. 

“A walk in the crisp spring morning, what a pleasant idea,” he exclaims, locking the car.

“I’m not mad at you and I don’t want you to think that I am because you’re the only person that doesn’t suck, except you do kinda suck for forcing the issue,” you announce in exasperation. Damiano nods, taking a second to process your words.

“Let me show you my favorite place to blow up illegal fireworks when I was 13.”

“Does it bother you that I’m equally as close to being 13 as I am to being your age?”

“Ooh, ouch,” he cringes. “Still not distracted though. Also put on your coat.” He holds the garment up for you and zips it. The gesture is so tender your eyes water.

“Show me the scene of the crime.” You take his hand in yours, and that satisfied Dami for now. Meanwhile, you’re spiraling. Bringing up the age difference could never be just a joke to him. And what had he done to deserve that? Wake up three hours early, rush across the city, and defend you despite just getting cleared by the collegiate board. Then he’d shown you a piece of his personal history and you’d acted just as immature as opponents of this relationship predicted you would. Either in whispered voices and furtive glances or gossiped in private spaces. If the competition’s alphas had witnessed this behavior, their value judgments would be completely just.

“I’m sure all the moss has grown back now, but…” He leads you around the backside of a two story rock face. In a clearing is a pathetic little fire pit.

“You know that joke about the omega who makes a nest they’re really proud of, but to their alpha it’s just a pile of blankets. The alpha can see how important it is and compliments them, pretending to be impressed anyway?” 

“Yeah?” You take a long look at the scorched mark on the ground and then at Dami.

“Dear, I think this is a very nice pile of blankets.” He bursts out laughing, the wonderful, crowing, grinning wide laugh that fills up a whole room.

“Okay, okay, fair enough,” he pants, leading you up the incline. Twice Damiano has to pause to bend over and cackle. By the time you take a seat on a flat spot at the top, the sharp clawed insecurity is almost forgotten. He looks around the park from this high point in silence. No, Dami hadn’t always been easy, but he loved you the way you’d secretly hoped to be loved. In your whole life, he was the only one that made you the priority and he did it without asking. Never did you ache for more attention or validation. It was remarkable to be at the center of such an exquisite universe.

“I think I’ve always loved you without knowing it,” you murmur. Damiano’s big, soulful eyes fixate on you. It’s a rarity to see him stunned.

“Like, before we met I must’ve…I don’t know.” You search the branches for a bird’s nest and, and move along before things get emotional. “We should just go home and sleep until lunch.”

“I…You said the competition acted like omegas were inferior. They treated you like you were stupid, they must have been horrible.” His voice is buckling with emotion.

“They didn’t treat me like I was stupid, exactly. I just felt so othered and fucking terrified. I’m never doing that again. Mx. Valera might be in the right, but it doesn’t matter if no ones on their side.” Finally, your voice breaks. “I was so scared. I was so, so scared and they enjoyed it. I was suffering and all these alphas loved it, relished it,” you cry against the rough fabric of Dami’s jacket. “They were waiting for me to fuck up and guess what? I did! I proved all of them right!”

“You didn’t prove them right. Each team had at least one omega, so clearly there is just as much variation in the intellect of –”

“No they didn’t!” You force the words out. “I was the only one in all six teams and I spent the whole first round so terrified that one of them was gonna lunge at me that I could barely think. Thats why I fucked up!”

“Woah, woah, wait. Y/n, my love, what – that's not –” He tries to get a view of your face and you permit it, flushed cheeks cupped in his hands. “Teams aren’t allowed to compete without an omega. I know, I looked, I –” Damiano and probably Isabella had found the rule book online, then combed through it to confirm that the event was safe. He was truly your guardian angel. 

“They were all alternates. Only competitors are allowed in the arena so I…” The whole moment was too revealing and you curl into a ball again, this time with your head in Damiano’s lap. At least you can sob without worrying what horrendous shapes your face is making.

“There were no other omegas competing. Against betas and alphas you were the only one?”

“I was the only omega in the whole fucking room! Not an administrator or judge or teacher or janitor or person with extra batteries for the calculators. No one!” you howl against his sweatpants. “And everyone knew to wear makeup and do their hair except me so I looked ugly and that's probably why all the people from Laurel High were staring like I was a polar bear in a plastic enclosure.”

“Y/n, no.” Hey starts combing your hair back with his hands.

“They were just waiting for me to fail. I was an object for them to toy with for amusement. It’s not just that they didn’t want me there. It’s like –” Damiano’s hand strokes your exposed cheek.

“They didn’t really see you as a person, but you finished that shitty competition anyway.” Now that the words are out the tears should stop, but they don’t. Damiano gets an arm underneath your waist so he can hold you, rocking back and forth.

“I’m…infuriated.” It's apparent in his tone of voice. “I hate that I wasn’t there and that you felt unsafe without me. I’m so sorry.”

“It was closed to the public.”

“But they didn’t follow the regulations to keep you safe!” You flip over and look up at Damiano, lifting a hand to his angular face. He catches it and kisses each knuckle, staring into the distance and scowling. It’s clear he’s taking the competition’s lapses in judgment very personally, even as personally as you. The moisture from the moss had wet your outfit in patches, probably stained the white polyester green.

“Can we go home now? I want to get this off my body.” You sit up and Damiano nods, expression tortured. He’s looking off to the right again, towards your mark.

“I put my hair up so they’d see.” His face becomes pained, rather than pleased. “When I was nervous I’d touch the scar and it helped.”

“It's irritated. You were probably rubbing it to self soothe.”

“Oh…” You feel sheepish, even as Dami helps you off the ground. 

“Also there's makeup on your face, love. Don’t you remember putting it on?” He brushes your under eye with the pad of his thumb. Reflexively, you raise a hand to your complexion, as if you’d be able to feel the black pigment staining your face.

“Sommor?” You nod and he rolls his eyes. “I thought it looked...”

“What?”

“Tacky. She’s always been that way.” That comment literally stops you in your tracks

“Oh my god, you slept with her.” It's a horrifying realization and even worse was Dami not rebuking it. He just cringes with his shoulders raised up to his ears. It's also kind of hilarious considering how agro he was towards her today.

“Sorry,” he squeaks. “It was a long time ago.”

“Like over a year?” He squints one eye while counting on his fingers.

“You have to think about it!?” It really sucked that he’d slept with one of your teammates, but he also didn’t do anything wrong. Damiano had never squirmed like this before, so teasing is plenty of retribution.

“Nevermind, I don’t want to know,” you dismiss, dramatically walking past him. 

“Definitely a year! I didn’t even mean to have sex with her. Her friend Maia, was the one I was going after, but she hooked up with someone else that night, so,” he shrugs.

“Well thanks, that makes me feel so much better,” you reply with heavy sarcasm.

“I actually have no earthly idea why I told you that.” You begin walking backwards, facing Dami.

“I’m just impressed that you remember their names.” He throws his head back and groans in mortification. 

“I’m never gonna live this down.”

“Did you do an every letter of the alphabet challenge? Does Xiema have something to tell me?”

“No,” he says forcefully. “I made sure not to sleep with any of your friends.”

“How romantic! And I thought chivalry was dead.” He jogs a few steps to catch up.

“You’re taking this kinda well.”

“Logically, you had to get good at it somewhere. In the future, please tell me so I have a couple zingers prepared.”

“That sounds super fair.” He throws an arm over your shoulders and brings you in for a kiss on the temple. “Christ, I wish I was as funny as you.”

“You are funny!” Some of your favorite moments were rolling around in Dami’s bed cackling, until you got side cramps.

“I know I’m funny, but you’re so quick witted. Whenever I see you humble some alpha, I’m happy to be on your good side.” So Damiano’s funny, but you’re funny and mean? He phrased it like a compliment, so you’re left contemplating what such a compliment said about your personality. Sliding into the car seats, your mind is occupied until Dami speaks.

“Oh man, someone’s gonna have to teach you how to drive pretty soon,” he ponders, buckling his seatbelt. “Poor bastard.” Damiano brakes at the stop sign and finds you staring at him. “No! Absolutely not.” You continue the silent stare, smirking. “Oh, fuck me.” Damiano rests his head on the steering wheel upon realizing his fate. “I am the poor bastard. God damn it, this is what I get for being a cradle robber.” Wow. Yep, that did feel like shit. But you’d started the age jokes, which meant you had to take them too.

“Well if I show up to practice with any inexplicable injuries,” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, “I can just tell them it's from almost dying in a car crash. After seeing how you handled Okoro’s team, I’m sure they won’t question it.” he chuckles. That had to be excessive, but one glance at Dami reveals that he’s not intentionally punishing you. He never intentionally punished you, but it did happen the other way around. Dami actually thinks this is flattery, and being confronted with the realities of his perception is beyond jarring. Liking this part of your character doesn’t change the fact that Damiano sees you as a bitch, too.

“Hey, stop, stop, stop.” Stop what? “You’re doing it again.” He pulls your hand from your neck and laces your fingers together so you can’t rub the scar subconsciously. “The proximity to your scent gland makes me really nervous, kit – love.” Kit wasn’t so bad. Foxes had kits.

“I like the pet names, but kitten just doesn’t feel right anymore. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“It just doesn’t fit.” He rubs his thumb along the back of your hand.

“That’s fine, I can just say something else.” A healthy person was not meant to contain this much self-loathing at one time. You bring your legs to your chest and rest your face on your kneecaps.

“Something else you wanna –” Dami’s phone rings. He curses under his breath instead of reading the contact name immediately. 

“Who’s parents?”

“Your dad,” he groans, hitting ANSWER. “Good morning, Kevin. How are you doing on this beautiful day?” It’s a miracle how genuine he sounds.

“Is y/n with you?”

“Yes she is. Safe and sound. We’re headed home right now.”

“She was supposed to be in the van with the rest of the team. That was the plan.”

“I’m so sorry if you were unsure of her whereabouts. I assumed –”

“We figured she was with you, since one of her teammates told the coach as much. That girl got in the van with everyone else like normal.” Normal was one of your father’s favorite words (and concepts).

“I know who you’re talking about, her name is Sommar.” There's a long silence, as your father recovers from Damiano not taking the bait.

“Why isn’t y/n answering her phone?” You strain to grab your bag from the backseat.

“I believe she still has it turned off from the competition, but I’ll have her turn it on right now.” You nod. Lacking patience, you turn the backpack upside down, dumping all your shit out on the floor. Damiano begins to laugh at the strawberry four chapsticks with peeling labels and hoarders collection of empty water bottles, but covers it with a cough.

“Bring her straight home. Y/n needs to discuss this behavior and the consequences with her family.” You shake your head vigorously and Damiano places a hand on your leg.

“Can you please elaborate for me?” Kevin releases a long, irritated sigh.

“Look, we really appreciate times you might have provided some type of protection,” that was an insulting amount of qualifiers, “but y/n needs to preserve her resilience.” All you had been today was resilient and Dami seems to think the same as he squeezes your thigh to pacify your anxiety. “A year ago she would never have called a boyfriend to come pick her up because she was upset about getting second place.”

“Y/n is not upset about getting second place. The way she was treated today –”

“And do you think that is helped by being the only one with a chauffeur? Being seen as having special privileges, being different from everyone else, that's not gonna make anything easier. Disagreements are normal. It happens in the adult world all the time and you have to resolve them, not run away. I think –”

“‘I’m gonna have to pause you right there, Kevin.” Dami actually pulls over as he speaks. “Lots of kids were picked up by their parents or perhaps even partners. I don’t know for sure, because we didn’t hang around long. What I do know, for a fact, is that the only person questioning y/n’s resilience right now is you.”

“Be that as it mm – Olivia, it’s fine.”  Your father holds the phone away from his ear while speaking to your mother. “I’ve got a handle on it…well, alright.” His voice is faint, but you can still hear how begrudging his concession is.

“Dami, darling, you’re on speakerphone with the both of us.” Since coming home to a gourmet dinner and clean kitchen on Monday, your mother had grown quite fond of Damiano.

“Olivia, how are you this morning?” This time the warmth isn’t manufactured. 

“I’m quite well and happy to hear that our girl is being taken care of.” Kevin huffs in disagreement. “Of course, taking the van with everybody else would have been better.”

“Normally that’d stand to reason, but y/n isn’t like everyone else, and her teammates remind her regularly. Today the competition broke multiple regulations by having y/n as the only omega in a room – actually, calling that arena a room isn’t accurate. It's the size of a skating rink. In a space of over 40 people, at least 25 alphas, most of them single, she was the only omega.”

“Oh my god. Kevin!”

“I feel deeply uncomfortable with any actions that might discourage y/n from repeating this behavior, whether overt or subliminal. Discipline is out of the question, since this was an issue of safety and y/n couldn’t have reacted more appropriately.” Your eyebrows must be in your hairline and it wasn’t just Dami’s eloquence. He was using his alpha authoritarianism to instruct your father on how to raise his daughter.

“Well that's a little dramatic.”    

“In a state of flight, fawn, or freeze, an omega isn’t going to choose the best plan of action, but the easiest. They’re already battling sensory overwhelm, so I need to be her path of least resistance. When y/n goes “I think I might be in danger. What the hell can I do?’” Swearing in front of Kevin, even if just for emphasis, was a ballsy move. It seemed like Dami was too impassioned to care, both hands gesticulating as if he was speaking to your parents in person.

“I need her to think ‘I’ll call my alpha,’ not ‘I could call Damiano, but last time I did someone got mad at me.’ Because then she isn’t going to call me. She’s gonna choose the option that won’t keep her as safe,” he’s bordering on hysterical. Anxiety that concerned your well-being seemed to escalate and escalate out of Dami’s control. You put a hand on his leg, trying to ground him. He merely glances in your direction, but in that glance you can see all the scenarios he came up with on the drive over. Revenge raped. Alpha’s getting carried away and seriously injuring you by accident because they don’t yet know their own strength. 

“Or maybe she’ll choose an option that won’t keep her safe at all.” You grab one of his hands and squeeze so he’ll focus on reality. “And if something happened to her because of that I would literally never forgive anyone –”

“Dami! Dami, I’m okay.” You undo your seatbelt and climb into his lap. “I’m fine. Hey, look at me. I’m fine.” He doesn’t want to meet your eyes initially, caught up in all the horrors of his mind. You force him to, knowing that your healthy contenance will soothe his panic.

“Y/n?” rings your mother's worried voice.

“Hi, mom. We pulled over a while ago, by the way.” Damiano looks at you, with his jaw in your right hand, nails of your left in his undercut. Your lower body is still on the center console, so he pulls you fully onto his lap, sitting sideways.

“Oh, well that's good.” If they think Dami is on the verge of a breakdown, your parents will interrupt today’s plans, which must be avoided at all costs. A weekend together was your reward for trying to “take space,” as Jay begrudgingly requested. It still struck you as a strange and damn near counterintuitive request for a new alpha-omega couple. Bonding was encouraged by society, and if there was a concern, it was over a lack of connection, not a surplus.

“I know Clio isn’t particularly fond of Damiano, but I think they could bond over worrying about things that are never going to happen.” 

“It’s my job to worry about you.” He kisses you lightly (so the gesture doesn’t make a sound) but slow. 

“And we do so appreciate your help today. Um…y/n, when will we see you next? Tomorrow?” Your father is grumbling in the background. Holding the phone away from her ear, but not nearly far enough for her words to be indistinguishable, your mother hisses at him. “I wouldn’t dream of separating them right now and if you ever went to the Support Meetings you’d understand why that’d be cruel.”

“You’ll see her tomorrow and y/n will keep you updated on our whereabouts via text now that her phone is on,” Damiano answers. “We’re gonna go to the game tonight.”

“I’ll be amusing myself by eating my weight in junk food and screaming random sports terminology.” 

“She does it so confidently that nobody figures it out before our break,” he responds fondly.

“And you’ll be meeting friends there?” When your mother asks, the sentiment isn’t so accosting.   

“Yeah, tons of people, plus I think y/n is inviting…”

“Gia and Xiema, if I can convince Xia to come. They’ll also be joining in on the junk food and heckling, of course.”

“Yeah, focusing on the actual game is too mainstream.”

“Only cool kids undermine the integrity of events because they’re too lazy to learn the rules.”

“You know the rules! You’re just hellbent on creating chaos to distract the opposing team.”

“I guess you know to ignore the random voice screaming ‘SPIKE IT’ as you’re trying to make a goal.” Dami is doing what you’ve donned The Possessed Seagull Laugh, bent over and leaning against you.

“Damiano, I’m sorry for raising such a heathen. I really tried my best,” your mother adds to the banter. 

“Don’t apologize, she’s probably helped our point margins this season.”

“Help? I am solely responsible for your success.”

“Your humility is one of my favorite things about you, dear.”

“Oh yeah? That and the banshee screams at 10:00 AM right?”

“I especially enjoy the expressions of the opposing team at the end of the game when they realize the crazy woman in the stands is my omega.”

“Okay, okay, so it sounds like you guys have some great plans tonight,” she laughs. It’s been so long since you heard your mother’s laugh.

“Y/n, call me if you need someone to talk to before I see you tomorrow. I love you, be safe.” 

“Love you too, bye!” Instead of getting back on the road, Damiano holds you for a minute with a hand up the back of your shirt. His face is pressed into your neck and you know he wants to be scented, but that’d make focusing on driving difficult. So he’s tiding himself over by admiring your mark. He thought you’d be upset at the scarring since it branded you as his for the near future. Who else am I going to spend my future with? you’d asked. Dami got a funny look and worked three dark and very visible hickies into your neck and shoulder that you were plagued with concealing from your father. At school you wore them proudly. Secretly, he’d wait around corners and watch you walk to class. Alphas did a double take and you never noticed.

Of course, his inner pessimist made Dami also ponder that If anything were to happen to him, or god forbid the relationship, the discolored skin would remain. The next alpha would have to bite through the scar tissue if they marked that side. It’d be much harder to get their teeth in, Damiano still guarding you from a world away. 

“What are you thinking about?” He sits upright with that same strange expression.

“Oh, just toxic alpha stuff that would annoy you.” He pats your ass with finality. “Let's go home, hmm?” You climb back across the center console with his help. “And sorry for…freaking out on the phone call with your parents. I – Jay, I’ll talk to Jay about managing that.”

“It’s alright.” Wearing a genuine smile, you squeeze his leg, then keep your hands to yourself. Possessiveness and arousal were extremely close for alpha’s and you weren’t feeling up for the usual raucous lovemaking. The most accurate adjective was fragile and it was awful. You avoided fragility at all costs, especially the perception of it.

“I think I’m gonna quit the AE club. I can’t go through that again, it isn’t worth it.”

“Understandable.”

“All of the alphas are friends with each other and all the betas are friends with the alphas, but nobody except Rosemary is friends with me. I act like I don’t give a shit, obviously, but it kinda hurts a lot, I guess.”

“I won’t tell,” he whispers.

“Thalia says it feels like everybody has the 10th edition of a social handbook that she only has the first edition of. AE club is like that.”

“Alphas do relate to each other differently than omegas, that's not on you.”

“They just want to keep me on the outside and what's worse is – is that the other teams hated me because I’m an omega, but they hate my personality.”

“Baby, you said they’d accepted you!”

“As a human calculator, but I didn’t realize before today that – that it's different.” you get choked up and stop talking.

“Baby, I can’t imagine what you dealt with today. Rosemary and Sommar like you and I bet that –”

“Sommor likes that I make her look good as team captain. It’s self-serving.” Damiano pauses in thought before answering.

“Okay, that’s fair.” You appreciate his honesty, but hearing that Sommar actually did want to be your friend and she just had a weird way of showing it might have been better. Even if it was a lie. Suddenly, the fact that Dami had slept with her and didn’t tell you for two weeks, knowing she was on the team, is upsetting.

“Maybe she’s not so bad. She could have publicly humiliated me with the fact that you’d slept together and I’d be completely unprepared.” Her enduring loyalty to Dami was worse.“How many other people do you have keeping your secrets from me?”

“Woah!” You roll your eyes at his reaction. “A second ago you were fine with this.”

“I was fine with you fucking someone else before we met. Keeping it from me? Not okay. If I hadn’t put two and two together, would you have told me yourself? Or would you have waited for Sommor to do it?

“I would have told you.”

“When?”

“Today! I wasn’t sure that it was the right Sommar until I saw her. We spent about half an hour alone together, in the woods, at night. I didn’t know her last name.”

“Even if you weren’t sure, you should have told me.”

“If I told you every time there was a possibility that someone interacting with you had been a past hookup, you’d think I was a piece of shit. If we’re being completely honest, I wasn’t sober every time either, so some of them I don’t really remember. Okay? It’s embarrassing,” he confesses. It’s not as if you can argue with his experience, so you fall silent.

“I’m really sorry that you’ll be dealing with this baggage for the rest of high school. If I could go back, I’d change so much, but I’m stuck with this shit.” Looking at your hands, unsure how to respond, the tension thickens. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“I don’t know what to say! It feels like Sommor was keeping this secret out of continued loyalty to you and you were allowing it. I can see that's not how it was, but it still makes me insecure as fuck.”

“I wouldn’t do that, y/n, I swear.”

“God that whole fucking competition made me insecure. I can’t tell if I’m what's wrong or if it's bias or both. Today was such a mind fuck, I hated it.” You fix your gaze out the window, watching the other cars on the freeway. “I don’t even know why I bring it up, it's so rudimentary in comparison to what you deal with.”

“Y/n, no. You get to have problems that aren’t medical emergencies.”

“They’re superficial and petty.”

“I don’t give a fuck. If they’re affecting you, I want to know. If they’re not, I still want to know what you’re thinking.” He pauses to inhale. “Also nothing about today has been superficial, It’s real, heavy stuff. I need to know how you’re doing, ideally before anyone else.”

“Okay,” you agree, too bashful to meet his eyes. Luckily Damiano has a great sense of humor.

“I want to know if you have a particularly good cup of coffee and if you subsequently have a good shi –”

“Ew! Stop talking!”

“The role of digestive health is not to be underestimated!” he insists, jokingly. Then Dami’s tone becomes slightly serious.

 “I guess I never told you this, but I used to get the worst upset stomachs. We went to a gastroenterologist who tested for celiac and lactose intolerance, then another that checked for inflammation, not a fun experience I’ll have you know. Everything was negative. They couldn’t figure it out until a nurse suggested that it's from anxiety. At first I couldn’t accept that it was all in my head.”

“Baby, has this been going on and you were hiding it?”

“No,” he smiles. “When I’m with you, I never get stomach aches. It happened almost immediately. When I was trying to keep my distance some days I’d feel so sick, but I’d just tell myself, ‘make it till the end of the 6th block.’ Then I’d hug you and the rush of oxytocin would… I’d be okay. My body remembered how to regulate.”

“Damiiiii,” you whine, emotional. “Why didn't you tell me before?”

“Because ‘you cured my psychosomatic IBS’ is a creepy thing to say.”

“Creepy isn’t the word I would use.”

“And how the fuck am I supoosed to lead into that? Give me one way to lead in that isn’t gross.”

“I –” you begin to say, but end up stumped. “Okay I see your point.”

“Thank you.” You spend the rest of the car ride in comfortable silence. Or rather, Damiano spends the rest of the car ride in comfortable silence and you are left alone with your thoughts. So far today, that has proven a very bad position to occupy. 

Yeah, Dami found your behavior at games funny, but he must also find it annoying. Why hasn't he mentioned that you were embarrassing him? Surely these quirks will stop being amusing when the novelty wears off. If your personality isn’t interesting, then what is it besides contrary? You’d made a joke about the integrity of the event, as if sports wasn’t an integral part of Dami’s life and identity. It helped him manage his symptoms, but you always made everyone aware that you were above taking matches seriously. He didn’t hold himself superior to anything in your life. 

Damiano sighs upon putting the car in park. He should have kept talking to you, because now you have an expression like your soul has been crushed under someone’s boot. He has a close enough relationship with self loathing to know what it looks like. 

Dami gets out of the car and walks around the hood. The sound of the driver’s side door closing makes you look up for the first time in several minutes. Slowly, you unbuckle your seatbelt, unsure if he intends to do the gentlemanly thing and open the door. Damiano does, but he crouches down to sit on the driveway as soon as you swing your legs out. It's the same gesture as earlier this week, which means this wasn’t out of convenience. Damiano was purposefully positioning himself lower than you, as a rare act of submission. If you couldn’t confide in him as your alpha, maybe you’d talk to Dam, your friend.

“Give me both hands and look at me,” he requests, as softly as he’s able. You extend your hands and gaze out from under your lashes.

“Will you keep looking at me?” You nod, already wanting to divert your eyes away from such intensity. “Do you promise?” He’s never asked you to promise this before.

“Um, yes.”

“When I decided that we could enter a relationship, I knew I was dating a 15 year old. I never expected the maturity level of dating someone my own age, but you’re very good at pretending. I’m not gonna lie, it's convenient.” He takes a deep breath and you realize you hadn’t inhaled since Dami began speaking. “But if I have to watch another second of you hating yourself for acting 15 because you are 15, my heart is gonna break, love.” You’re shaking and your face feels hot, but are too stunned to cry. “You get to be 15. You get to rant about your social life. You get to be a pain in the ass omega and you’ll still be owed unconditional love and protection from me, your alpha.”

“I don’t want to be a burden,” you whisper.

“Too bad, I want you to be my burden.”

“But you’ll resent me,” you whimper, feeling the scalding hot tears run down your face and snot from your nose. It must have been a great look, especially from Dami’s angle.

“No. I’ll be fulfilled.” You shake your head and holding eye contact is hell. “Why would I ask for something that would create problems in our relationship? I’m not about to sabotage this.” He’s right, it doesn’t make sense. “Y/n, you’re used to caring for other people and you’re really good at it, but this isn’t a one-sided relationship. Just like you help me deal with my pain, I’m going to do the same. Sometimes that's gonna be difficult for you because this is new, but I’m going to insist anyway.” 

Finally you break eye contact, staring at the clouded sky as mascara drips. You try to cover your face, but Damiano won’t give you back use of your hands. He’s not giving you space to hide, not a single inch.

“Look at me.” You shake your head. “Y/n, look at me,” he demands. With a hint of resentment, your gaze finds his.

“Give me your burden.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” You try to put a wall up.

“You’ve had to bear this all by yourself, but now you’re not alone. You are not alone.”

“We’re in a relationship for fucks sake I know that –”

“Y/n listen to me. You are not alone. Be emotional, be inconvenient, be 15.”

“As opposed to what?” you challenge, because that was easier. “What have I been this whole time, huh? What are you talking about?”

“You are not alone,” he repeats, patiently.

“No shit! There's this crazy man that won’t let me use my hands.”

“You are not alone. Y/n is not alone.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about!?” Even as you try to dismiss the whole thing, you gasp for air and taste snot. After wiping that on your arm indignantly, you try to steel yourself and end up with a sob.

“You are not alone. You are not alone.”

“Uh! Stop saying that!”

“Y/n is not alone. She is not alone. You are not alone. You are not alone.” A different version of you would have fought it out for another 30 seconds at least, and maybe even managed to control her emotions. This version of y/n knew how good it would feel to cave and fall into her alpha’s loving arms.

“I feel so fucking fragile,” you confess, knees aching as they collide with asphalt. Damiano holds you in a way that could squeeze a thousand broken pieces together. He picks you up off the ground and kicks the car door closed.

“Got your phone, love?” You nod, annoyed by the strands of hair stuck to your face as the skin becomes tacky.  Who knew that your body would remember every tear you didn’t cry and demand that the debt be paid in full? It was brutal, but a relief. As Dami opens the door, you try to convince yourself that his parents seeing you as a hot mess doesn’t matter after the entire neighborhood just witnessed the mental breakdown.

“Hey, I made you some snacks to bring back to your room,” is the first thing you hear Matteo say. He pushes a tray full of food and drinks into Damiano’s hands, probably worried about you fainting again. 

“Thank you so much.” You hug him, not because that's the routine, but because it feels right. “I’m sorry for ruining your whole morning.”

“No, no, I heard about – well let's not talk about that now. Are you okay?” Typically you’d respond affirmatively, regardless of if the house was burning down. Today you try to come up with an honest statement.

“It feels like everyone thinks I’m a bitch.”

“Well, I certainly –”

“False! Entirely false! Nobody thinks that, baby.” 

“Bremen literally told me that nobody likes me because I’m a bitch.” You glance over your shoulder and see Damiano turning red from anger. It's a good thing he’s holding the tray so he can’t go straight to his phone.

“Sommar agreed with him, but said that being a bitch is a good thing.”

“Next time I see that little shit stain I’m gonna break him in half and then –” Matteo interrupts Dami’s enraged muttering.

“If you were an alpha they would have called those leadership qualities and recommended you seek out management positions in the workplace.” Matteo’s words reframe your entire perception of today and beyond. “Something possesses people at high school competitions to act so heinously. Ignore it if you can, or even listen to music. That always helps Dam.

“Well I’m quitting the AE team, anyway.”

“Oh, really? I read that… “ He shifts his gaze onto his son behind you, searching for a signal of some sort. “I read that you got second place.”

“She kicked ass,” he announces proudly. If Dami had been in the arena, he’d have seen that you were a quivering mess.

“But it kicked right back,” you joke, looking down the hall longingly.“It’s such an injustice that you have to change.” Matteo opens his mouth to speak further, but sees the exhaustion in your eyes and stops. “A conversation for another time,” he says, with finality, and turns towards the kitchen. The gesture allows you to politely walk away.

Notes: A throwback to when I originally started posting in that this isn't not proofread.

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[wildflowerdylan]

WITH BENEFITS

PART THREE - PART FOUR - PART FIVE

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Content, cursing

Concept: College can change a lot of things. Some of those things might even be the status of your friendship. At least, that’s what happened with Stiles and Y/N.

I look down at the message on my phone for a brief moment, letting a smirk fall across my lips as I unlock the door to my apartment and walk in. On my couch sat Lydia, Kira, Malia, and Scott. They all turned to look at me with smiles on their faces, but I was too invested in responding to my hookup for the evening.

“Y/N!” Malia finally said, pulling me out of my thoughts and just about giving me a heart attack. “What the hell are you guys doing here?” I gasp, holding my phone to my chest. They chuckle together slightly. Lydia then speaks up, “Who are you texting?” She stands up and moves towards me to read the text of what she assumes is a new boy. “No one.” I sigh, shoving my phone in my pocket after turning it off and thanking God that I changed my password. Lydia gives me a know-it-all look before taking a deep breath, “Y/N, we know.” My eyes widened quickly. “You know?” She nods her head again, “Of course, we know! You’re only able to tolerate Stiles when you’re getting laid. It’s always been like that.” I furrow my brows together for a moment, trying to think if this was a true statement or not. That’s when it hit. Every single boyfriend I have ever had has been during times when we have a supernatural issue to deal with (minus my very first boyfriend pre-the pack). And everytime we have a supernatural issue, Stiles and I fight much less. “Oh.”

The group continues to keep their eager eyes on me as I come to my unpleasant realization. “So…” Lydia says, catching my attention again, “Who is he?” I look up at her from the ground, shaking my head slightly, “He’s no one.” I move to put my shoes in their spot by the door and my bag on the hook just above them. “Come on, Y/N/N, we waited all day to find out.” Malia whines. I roll my eyes. “He’s-he’s no one you know,” I say, finally gasping out a lie. The girls all turn to look at Scott for confirmation as Malia has difficulty determining the difference between lying and fear - things that smell and sound similar. Scott keeps his eye on me, throwing me a ‘you owe me’ look before turning to them, “She’s telling the truth.” They sigh, clearly hoping it was someone they knew. Although, we don’t know many people so that person would’ve either been Liam or Stiles. Two people I’m not entirely interested in dating…

“Well, can you at least tell us about him?” Kira shrugs hopefully. I look over at her and nod in defeat, moving to sit down on the couch with Scott and Kira. Lydia sits down in the chair she was sitting in before, one that was just left to my spot on the couch, and Malia moves to the floor excitedly as to form a circle. “I don’t really know where to start.” I say after a few moments of intense stares. “Just tell us about him.” Lydia smiles eagerly. I nod my head slowly and then begin, “Well, he’s taller than me.” They all nod with growing confused expressions, thinking I’d start with emotions and not a literal description of him. “Not much taller, but taller.” I look around at their faces and continue to see that I am clearly not giving them what they want. “Okay, so, personality things?” They all nod happily. I nod my head in response, beginning again, “He’s-he’s… He’s really brave.” I say suddenly. Nodding my head again, “And when his mouth isn’t ruining every word that comes out, he’s really sweet.” They all start perking up, liking what I’m saying much more and more with each word. By now, though, Scott is starting to notice my cheeks glow red and my lips pull into a smile. “The other day he actually noticed I was kind of cold so he gave me his jacket.” I look at my fiddling hands, pushing a strand of hair back behind my hair shortly after. “He’s also surprisingly good in bed. I mean he acts like he’d be awkward and wouldn’t know what he’s doing, but…” I pause for a moment, taking a deep and satisfied breath, “But he does.”

Malia moves in a little more, ready to ask a question that almost everyone was desperate to know, “Tongue or fingers?” I turn to her, opening my mouth to answer, when Scott immediately cuts me off. “And that’s my limit.” He jokes, standing up and holding his hand out for Kira. Kira grabs it with a smile and the two head out.

Not even a second after the couple has left, chatter starts up again. “Okay now that the loser is gone, I wanna know the answer.” Malia speaks quickly. I chuckle slightly, looking at the two girls in front of me. “I can confidently say, he’s equally amazing with both.” Malia claps with pride, “You did good, babe.” I smile at her with a tiny chuckle, Lydia coping me.

After a few seconds of silence, I stand up with a cop. “Alright, well, I hate to ask you guys to leave, but I’ve actually got plans with him tonight.” The two nod as they quickly get up with me and say their goodbyes. I then proceeded to spend the next hour eating dinner and getting ready for my plans. When 6:40 PM strolled around, I made my way out my door and to Scott and Stiles’ apartment. I knocked on the door a couple of times before it immediately opened. “Hey,” I smirk, moving to place my hands on his chest and get the show on the road, but Stiles stopped me, grabbing my worsts urgently and moving them down to my sides. “Everyone is here.” My eyes widen, “But I-” Stiles cuts me off quickly, “Don’t worry, I told them I texted you to come over ASAP for a pack meeting. They think that’s why you’re here.” I sigh in relief, thinking back to how I just told Lydia and Malia about my boy plans. We both walk into the room cautiously, no one really sure about why we’re all here… except for Scott, of course.

“Sorry about your plans, Y/N/N.” Lydia says with a sigh. Malia walks over to Stiles and I, “I still think they should’ve just let you go to your date.” I chuckle semi awkwardly, unsure of how this conversation was gonna go. “I would be pissed if I had to miss out on a sex with a guy who can use his hands and his tongue amazingly...” I feel my eyes widen at her words, knowing that Stiles just heard all of that. I watch her leave as I calmly turn to Stiles who is looking at me with a smirk. “Amazing?” I turn to him with an annoyed expression. “Shut the f-” Scott walks over carefully, interrupting me, “If you guys want to continue to keep this a secret, you should stop talking about it around the pack that has super hearing werewolves.” I sigh heavily, nodding my head for a second.

“Oh,” Scott begins again, “And FYI, Stiles explicitly told the guys that the girl he’s sleeping with right now is the best he’s ever had, so I don’t know why he’s being so cocky.” It’s like Stiles and I completely switched expressions because now he’s sporting wide eyes and I’m smirking at him. “Best you’ve ever had, huh?” I chuckle slightly, before walking into the living room with the others. Stiles following shortly after.

Once everyone is settled, Scott stands up to speak to us. “So, between how good things have been and things Deaton is hearing, there should be a new threat coming soon.” Stiles speaks up quickly, “Things will always balance out.” Scott nods, “Because of this I want to start some training and such. I think preparing our mental and physical states will help us out a lot.” We all nod in agreement, fear slightly creeping up within us all. It doesn’t matter how many bad guys you defeat, it’s always scary. “I think two person partnerships will be a great thing to start since the past few issues we’ve had here have ended up in someone getting lost or broken up from the group. I won’t let anyone else die. So, let’s pick teams.” Issac nods, “Why don’t we have all the couples partner up. That way no one is stuck with constantly dealing with a couple.” The singles of the group nod. “Great, then here are the current pairs: Issac and Allison, Corey and Mason, and Kira and I.” Everyone nods again as Liam starts talking, “Someone is going to have to be a group of three… I can go with Mason and Corey since I hang out with them all the time anyways.” Scott nods in agreement, “Okay, so Lydia, Malia, Y/N, and Stiles are left.” I pipe up quickly, “I can go with Lydia.” Scott looks over at me for a moment, “I-” Malia cuts him off quickly, “Or I can go with Y/N.” I look over at her with furrowed eyebrows before realizing what I had done, “Oh my God, right! Yes, yes, I’ll go with Malia. I won’t make her hang out with her ex.” We both nod happily, but Scott ruins that for a moment. “What I was going to say before someone cut me off,” Scott says as he shoots Malia a glare, “is that I actually think Y/N and Stiles should partner up. I think they both work together better than either wants to admit.” Stiles and I both clench our teeth, looking at Scott with unamusement. “So, Malia and Lydia will be together.” Scott says, looking at us both. We just shake our heads and cross our arms, throwing a mini temper tantrum, but it’s quickly ignored.

“Okay, here are your schedules and what each of you need to work on. Let’s meet daily to debrief and prepare together. I want to keep this up until we know what the threat is, then we can adjust and adapt the plan from there. For now, just focus on being with your buddy at any and all times.” We all nod, some of us happily and some of us begrudgingly. “Y/N, I want Stiles to stay at your place while we’re still figuring things out. He can help pay for your rent while Kira takes over Stiles’ half of our apartment. No one is to be alone if we can prevent it.” I look over at Scott angrily before turning to look at Stiles who is just as upset. Scott ignores the both of us again before pushing everyone out, back to their homes. Kira included, as she had to go back to her apartment with Lydia to pack her belongings. “Scott, you can’t be serious about Stiles moving in with me.” I say as he pushes the boy off to pack his stuff. “I don’t know why either of you are upset about this, honestly.” Stiles runs down the steps to his bedroom quickly, “Maybe because we don’t like each other.” I fail my arms over to the boy to physically express that I agree. Scott just continues to look at us as if we should be thankful. “Just go pack, Stiles.” The boy huffs out angrily before turning and heading back up the steps. “Scott, we’re going to kill each other.” Stiles comes running down again, “Kill each other!” Scott looks at the boy sternly, “Go pack.”

I sigh quickly, moving my hands up and down in one swift moment. Quickly, Stiles’ packed belongings all float down the steps and are placed gently by the door. “There. He’s packed.” The two look at me with shock. “You-you can do that?” I shrug my shoulders, “I can do just about anything. That doesn’t mean I let magic control my life. Especially around humans.” They look at me for a moment longer before shaking their heads and going back to bickering. I sigh and slam myself back on the couch just about accepting my defeat at this point.

“Stiles, I really don’t understand why you’re so upset about this.” Stiles looks at the wolf dumbfounded, “I don’t like her!” I roll my eyes, continuing to pick at the nail polish on my fingernails. “You can fuck her whenever you want now.” I look over at the boys and stand up defensively, “Hey!” They both look at me with anger in their eyes from the argument they’re having with each other. I huff at them both, just as upset, “I’m not a fucking toy, Scott.” His expression turns sheepish. “That being said, he’s kinda right.” Stiles looks at me with confusion, they both do. “Sleeping with each other is clearly great for our relationship and for the pack. And now we have a safe space that we freely do that in. It’s really not that bad.” Stiles looks at me carefully nodding. “But moving in with someone is a lot different than having a friends with benefits deal.” Scott perks up, “Friends?” Stiles and I both turn to him quickly, “It’s a figure of speech. And I’m not on your side with this still. You’re forcing us both into something we don’t want. I’m just trying to be positive about it.” Stiles looks at me with a new found calmness, nodding his head, “You’re right, I’m sorry.” I smile at him softly, appreciating the apology from him that, for once, felt genuine. “I’m sorry too, Y/N/N I-I didn’t mean it like that, I promise.” I turn to Scott softly, “I’m still mad at you for what you said, but I love you and you’re my brother.” He smiles at me softly, the guilt still spread all over his face.

Stiles, however, takes the new found calmness in the room as a hint to quit while we’re ahead, “Come on, Y/N. Let’s go to our new home.”

TAG LIST: @fandomhopped @taylorann2013 @malfoyscamander

thank you so much for your support (and for giving me a reason to have my very first tag list!!!) <3

[soonito]

maybe someday

pairing: junhui x reader

genre: bestfriend!jun, fluff, acts of service, mutual pining

warnings: college student struggles, food, skipping meals (not purposely, it’s hardly mentioned but just in case)

notes: this has been in my drafts for MONTHS is it good is it terrible idk idc i just wanted to let it out

wc: 1245

For the first time in the last four hours, you take a break. Not because you planned to, but because your body is starting to give up. Your eyes are sore, your back aches and your legs burn painfully as you get up to go to the bathroom so you can wash your face.

A long sigh escapes your lips at the reflection of your beaten up state in the mirror. It’s late and you’re really tired, but you have to keep studying. Maybe just five minutes laying in bed, resting your poor eyes and then you’ll go on. No… You can’t afford those five minutes. And you’re the only one to blame. If only you started earlier, if only you worked harder… you wouldn’t have to go through this torture.

A lump grows in your throat, you consider punching the mirror to let off some steam, but the ringing of the doorbell stops you from trying. Okay, it’s not that late, it can’t be a noise complaint from the neighbours or anything like that, right? You haven’t even screamed your lungs out in frustration yet. Trying to avoid making any kind of noise, you walk to the door and take a peek through the spyhole. Once you identify the person standing on the other side, you open it.

“Jun?”

“Hi.” He greets you with a thin smile. “You didn't answer my last text so I thought I should just come by. You didn't have dinner, didn't you?”

“I... Um… ”

“I brought hot pot." He says, lifting a massive bag that’s hanging from his shoulder. "I mean, I have the supplies and everything. I'm making hot pot."

“Oh.” You blank out for a second, then shake your head and gesture at him to come in. “You didn't have to… "

“Would you rather get nagged by your mom tomorrow? First thing in the morning?”

You laugh at his remark. “Bold of you to assume I’ll be alive by tomorrow.”

“Well, that’s why I’m here.” He leaves the bag on the counter, and rolls up his sleeves. “To make sure you will.”

Jun already knew he would find your fridge almost empty, so he came prepared. He pulls out multiple ingredients from his bag, and even his own hot pot equipment. You notice the kitchen is far from being clean, and a wave of embarrassment crashes on you. When you aim to do the dishes, your back betrays you, and the moment Jun hears you hiss in pain, he has to fight the impulse to pick you up and carry you to bed. Instead, he only puts his hand on your shoulder.

“You need to lay down.”

“I don’t want you to clean up my mess so you can cook for me!”

“It’s not a big deal, I wouldn’t be here if it was.” Letting out a big sigh, you glance at the hallway, and Jun seems to read your mind. “You are not going back to your laptop and textbooks. You have to rest.”

“But I still have so much left to do…” You whine.

“Not now!” Jun puts both hands on your shoulders. “We’re having dinner, when we finish we clean up, set a schedule for tomorrow and then you go to sleep.”

“A schedule?”

“Yes. A proper one. Breaks included.” You give him another big sigh in response. He shakes his head and turns you around, giving you a small push towards your living room. “Now, go lie on the couch.”

“But-”

“Just go!”

Between more whines and groans, you give in and do as your friend tells you. You don’t mind being taken care of, but sometimes you don’t even feel like you deserve it. You're actually a pretty neat and tidy person, still, you reached that point where you wouldn’t allow yourself to make time for the most basic chores. That’s what it comes with not being the best kind of student. No matter how many times you cursed yourself and swore it would never happen again, you would always end up procrastinating, having trouble keeping up with the deadlines.

Jun wouldn’t blame you for it, though. He knows there’s not much he can say to make you feel better, so he goes for what he can do. You can see him from the couch. He takes care of the vegetables, washing and cutting them gently. Then he takes the meat, removing it from its packaging and putting it on a plate. He works well in your kitchen, even on his own. It may be the first time he’s doing hot pot, but not the first time he cooks anything there.

You really wanted to get up and assist him, or at least stay by his side, watching up close. It would help you forget about the immense amount of work you had left in your room. Jun makes you feel at ease. Maybe someday you should tell him how grateful you are for everything he does for you, but no better words than a “thank you” ever come out, so you try to think of different ways to return the favor.

While you’re thinking, you eventually fall asleep, a soft touch on your cheek waking you up not much later. You open your eyes to see Jun get up with a sudden move, as he was kneeling on the floor next to you. You blink twice, and he coughs.

“It’s ready.” Jun says, stepping aside so you could see the meal already set on the round table in front of you. You look at his work completely amazed, and thank him with a smile.

“Won't you feel sick eating this much so late?” You ask him while he sits down next to you.

“I’ll be alright, you can eat all you want.” You pick up the chopsticks, but still seem hesitant. “I swear it’s not too spicy.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “I’m not sure if we share the same definition of "not too spicy''. ”

“I mean it this time!”

You laugh, and finally lean closer to the table. Settling into a comfortable silence, you feel relieved with every bite you take. It’s been a rough day, no, a rough week, and you really needed this. It’s almost making you emotional. But right now it’s not the time to have a meltdown. You look up at Jun, eating peacefully, and somehow that soothes your nerves. Jun always makes you feel at ease. He knows this. That’s why he came all the way from his house to your apartment in the middle of the night, because he knows you’re struggling, and he can’t let that happen. Maybe someday he should tell you that he’s willing to do anything to make you feel better, only to be sure you’re aware of it, but he doesn’t know how to phrase it, so he just.... follows his guts. He's usually knows what's best for you.

“Is it good?” Jun asks, pretending he doesn’t notice your watery eyes.

“It’s delicious.” You whisper.

“Great.”

“You’re staying over, right?” You cough, trying to raise your voice.

“If you’ll have me.”

“I’m not letting you go back home at this hour.” You add some noodles into the pot. “And also, tomorrow it’ll be my treat.”

Jun chuckles softly. “Okay.”

And that’s it. You two always end up like this, spending a lot of time together, looking out for each other. Maybe someday you should talk about it.

[pinkcherryblossomangel]

Away from myself

A follow up to AWAY FROM HOME

Bang Chan x reader

- it's eight months after the last chapter

- it's seven months since Y/N saw some nasty responses to rumours

- it's six months since she started spiralling

- five months since she stopped replying to his text

- four months since she stopped reading them

- three months since he stopped messaging

- two months since she stopped sleeping properly

- one day till she has to see him again.

STARING

Bang Chan

Han

Changbin

Y/N

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

TRIGGER WARNINGS

Depression

NSFW

Negative body image

Anxiety

Self-hatred

General poor mental health

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

His hand reaches up, grabbing mine out of his hair. Our finger interlock as he continues to explore.

My breath hitches at every change in direction.

The vibration of his giggles adding to the build up.

I glance down and see the smirk in his eyes.

The intense connection pushing me towards ~

I lurch awake. Panting, as sweat trickles down my back and forehead.

That didn't happen...

I wanted it more than anything, but that didn't happen.

I tear away my duvet and head to the bathroom. Walking down the dark hallway I know better than the back of my hand. It's been six months since I last spoke to Chris. And 3 months since he stopped trying to contact me.

Why do I always do this?

I always ruin everything good.

The cold water on my hands grounds me. The sensation reminding that this is what is real. The girl in the mirror is me. She is here. I am here.

"You okay sweetheart" my mums voice adds to the dawn birds song.

"Yeah just.."

"A bad dream?" She asks standing in the doorway. How do I answer this? Cause no. It wasn't a bad dream. It was an incredible one. One that reminded me of how utterly stupid I am.

"Yeah".

"Come here!" My mums embrace envelopes me in comfort. "Remember those bad dreams aren't really my love." I know that's the problem "and if they were I'd fight them off for you". She pinches my cheek like she did when I was a baby.

How can someone so full of love have made me?

"Now get back to sleep. Big day tomorrow!" Her excitement making me feel guilty for my lack.

"Do I have to go?!" I almost plead. She brushes my hair from my face.

"Y/N... my love yes. Yes you have to go! In two days time we will be in London. On a red carpet, at the premiere of your first every big film." The pride radiates off her. "My little girl" her eyes start to well, my follow in response. "Look at you living your dream! Being my little star!"

"I'm taller than you" I laugh between sobs.

"You'll always be my little girl." She switches in to PA mode, "Now go to bed, the train to London is at 9. And you have a call with your manager at 8."

"Love you mum"

"Love you too." She hugs me again "now move I need the toilet!"

************************************

I beat my alarm by five minutes. My dad always said to set it 20 minutes before the scheduled arrival, so when you fall asleep, you don't miss your stop.

I guess he had some good advice after all.

My phones buzzes but it's not the alarm.

It's him.

It's Chris.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuckity.

Fuck.

I can't ignore him, tomorrow evening we'll be sat next to each other at the screening. Maybe I can ask Han to swap seats. Or is that too harsh? I just know that if his thigh touches mine...

Y/N, no. You can't do this. He deserves way better than you. Someone who could love him so much more than you can. You'll burden him. I love him too much to do that.

I'll check his message at the hotel. I pull my head phones and press shuffle.

Not now...

I haven't listen to them in months and now! The god damn universe hates me.

This will do. My eyes settle on the countryside flying past.

I need to be brave.

************************************

I thank the receptionist as she hands me the PR plan for the next two weeks.

First the London premiere, then to the La premiere and lastly off to Seoul for the Asian premiere. The 3racha soundtrack is highly anticipated there, so much so they changed to an even bigger venue than la.

From what I heard it will be worth the wait. Chan would come over to my room every night after filming to show me what they'd come up with. Each snippet better than the last.

Each night ending in a passionate embrace.

No.

Stop it.

I close my eyes as if that will make the images erase from my mind.

Shit his text. I can't just ignore it. Why am I hyping myself up to read a text? What is wrong with me. Jesus.

I chuck my phone on the couch next to the TV. What am I gonna say.

I'm sorry Chris, I didn't message you for 6 months because I saw one tweet about us being friends and how I'm a fat piece of shit and I started to spiral and haven't been able to look at any thing to do with stray kids since then!

Or maybe

I'm sorry Chris that I somehow tricked you into liking me in anyway possible, we should just pretend nothing ever happened between us. Pretend that everytime something good happens, it isn't immediately ruined because I can't tell him. And then i wallow in my own stupid self-pity.

Christ... he really dodged a bullet

Flopping down on the bed, i open the manila envelope to see who I'm paired with for the interviews. I'm guessing it'll be with Jack, my on screen boyfriend. Haven't spoken to him since we stopped filming. So that's another awkward re-meeting tomorrow.

But it's not Jack's name there. Or jenna or tash. No it's non of my fellow actors. It's the boys of 3racha.

I immediately dial my manager.

"Hey Julie, I just got my PR plan. It says I'm doing the press bracket with 3racha? I thought I'd be doing it with Jack? Or another actor?"

"Oh yes! I forgot to say this morning! Since there's been such buzz around the soundtrack, Ryan thought it'd be a great idea to have them in the interviews. And he said you got along so well he'd thought you enjoy it!" Of course he did. "Is everything good? Do you want me to ask if they can change it?"

"No its okay, I was just a bit surprised is all" I can't kick up a fuss. I don't want any drama. "I'll see you tomorrow Julie!

" Remember, your interviews start at 9 am. I'll be there at 11. And then 7pm it's the red carpet and at 9pm it's the screening."

"I know," I say, trying to emphasise how many times I've been over the plan. "I'll see you tomorrow. Thank you"

"Thank you Y/N! Now have a nice dinner and treat your mum to something nice!"

"Don't worry I will". I hang up.

I need to text chan back.

I am not ready.

Someone knocks at the door. I open it and he's there.

Christopher is there in front of me.

I can't control myself. I burst into tears.

"I guess we're hotel neighbours again" he smiles sadly.

[leffee]

More lps generated incorrect quotes except this time I decided not to put them as screenshots but simply copy them like that because they're easier to read this way (stealing lps-incorrect-quotes' job :O):

Vinnie: Why does Sunil always do the laundry so loudly?

Russell: So everyone knows that no one helps him out in the house.

Sunil, in the distance: * slams the washing machine shut*

Vinnie: I woke up and chose VIOLENCE. I WILL COMMIT ARSON AND BURN EVERYTHING TO THE GROUND!!! I AM ANGRY-

Russell: Awwww, you're so adorable! Give me a hug~

Vinnie: Wh- What? NO, YOURE SUPPOSED TO BE SCARED OF ME! TREMBLE BEFORE MY WRATH-

Sunil, recording: This is so cute.

Vinnie, negotiating with Sunil

Sunil: We have Russell. Give us ten thousand dollars and he will be returned to you unharmed

Russell: Whoa, whoa, wait, you think I'm only worth ten thousand dollars?

Vinnie:

Russell: MAKE IT ONE MILLION-

Vinnie: Russell STOP

Vinnie: If you had to choose between Sunil and all the money I have in my wallet, which would you choose?

Russell: That depends, how much money are we taking about?

Sunil: Russell!

Vinnie: 63 cents.

Russell: I'll take the money.

Sunil: Russell!!!

Sunil: What time is it?

Vinnie: I don't know; pass me that saxophone and we'll find out

Vinnie: *Plays sax loudly and extremely out of tune*

Russell: WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE SAXOPHONE AT TWO IN THE MORNING

Vinnie: It's 2 am

Sunil: Yo dumbass, get over here.

Russell: Okay.

Vinnie: * gleefully runs past* I'm coming!

Russell, sadly: I thought...I was dumbass...

Sunil: Vinnie, I am questioning your sanity...

Russell: I never questioned it, I knew his sanity was missing from the start.

Sunil: Well, remember when Russell made a romantic dinner for me?

Vinnie: Sunil, he microwaved you a pizza.

Sunil: You bought a taco?

Vinnie: Yes.

Sunil: From the same truck that hit Russell?!

Vinnie, with a mouthful of taco: Well, me starving ain't gonna help him.

Sunil, driving Vinnie and Russell: So how was your day?

Vinnie: We almost got surprise adopted!

Sunil: What?

Russell: We almost got kidnapped.

Sunil: Oh, okay.

Sunil: *slams on the breaks* WAIT WHAT?!

Sunil: Hey, did you know as a kid I accidentally ate paper?

Russell: I feel like we've all done that at least once.

Vinnie: I ate it too-

Russell: See?

Vinnie:-On purpose...

Sunil & Russell: ...What?

Vinnie: Sunil is too tall for me to kiss him on the lips. What should I do?

Zoe: Punch him in the stomach. Then, when he doubles over in pain, kiss him.

Pepper: Tackle them!

Russell: Dump them.

Penny: Kick them in the shin!

Sunil: No to all of those! Just ask me to lean down!!

Vinnie: *dies*

Pepper: Timer starts now! When is he coming back? I say two months!

Sunil: Bullshit. One month.

Zoe: Nah, half a month.

Russell, sobbing: WHAT ARE YOU DOING? A PERSON JUST DIED!

Penny, scratching chin in thought: One week.

Vinnie, rubbing his temples: I am not proud of what I am about to say, but someone get me a cigarrette.

Pepper: But Vinnie, we don't smoke.

Vinnie: Cut the crap, Pepper. I'm not an idiot. I know that one in five people smoke.

Vinnie: *points at Penny* One! *points at Sunil* Two! *points at Russell* Three! *points at Zoe* Four! *points at Pepper* Five!

Vinnie: Now, I am going to close my eyes, and when I open them, there better be a cigarrette between these two fingers!

Zoe: *puts a cigarrette in Vinnie's hand*

Vinnie: Thank you. ...Light?

The Squad: *all simultaneously pull out lighters*

Vinnie: You know, when Pepper comes over, Zoe can get a little…

Sunil: Psycho?

Russell: Scary?

Penny: Drunk?

Vinnie: All three.

Vinnie: Fine! Judge all you want but...

Vinnie, points at Penny: Married a lesbian.

Vinnie, points at Zoe: Left a man at the altar.

Vinnie, points at Sunil: Fell in love with a gay ice dancer.

Vinnie, points at Russell: Threw a girl's wooden leg in a fire.

Vinnie, points at Pepper: Lives in a box!

Since I copied them in text I thought that I could just change names manually if they didn't fit, but then I left them the way they were generated because I decided that it was funnier like that :D

[quodekash]

my engineer incorrect quotes to try and fill the ramking shaped hole in my heart

—- —-

King: Hey Ram, can you give me the opposite of these words? King: Always, Coming, From, Take, Me, Down. Ram: Never, Going, To, Give, You- Ram: The fucking satisfaction. 

(this happened. this was the scene near the start where king texts ram and waves to him and tries to talk to him and ram picks up his phone and leaves to go see his brother. king loves rickrolling and thats canon because i said so)  —- —-

Duen: I wouldn’t put it in those words exactly. Ram: Why not? Duen: Because I don't know what they mean. 

—- —-

King: Hey, what’s your Netflix password? Ram: ihopeyoudie King: Thank you!

—- —-

Duen: I drink to forget but I always remember. Ting: You're drinking orange juice. 

—- —-

King: Ow! Ram: What’s wrong? King: I have this weird pain right above my eyebrow. Ram: It’s called a stress headache. I got my first one when I was four.

—- —-

Thara, after getting a library card: Now I know what true power feels like. 

—- —-

Ram: If I die, you can have what little I own. King: Wait. What do you mean "if" you die? Ram: My unending existence is fuelled by pure spite, that of which the painful experiences of life have rendered me full. King: King: *Sighs* Let me call your therapist again. 

—- —-

Ram: Hey, you want a tarot reading? Bohn: Those are Pokemon cards. Ram: You got a magikarp. Bohn: … Ram: It means 'fuck you'. 

(this is essentially what happened for like. half the show. up until the end of the fight between bohn and ram) —- —-

Ram, after watching King get shot by someone: You’re dead. You are very dead. When you are a corpse I will hack away at your flesh and eat you raw. King: Ram, I’m not dead yet. Ram: Let me have my moment of rage to avenge you. King: I’d prefer it if you didn’t let me die. 

—- —-

*Everyone is giving advice to Duen* Ting: It's okay to ask for help. Tang: You're not a burden. Ram: Murder is okay. Phu: Your feelings matter. 

—- —-

King: Are you sure Ram's even gay? He barely even looked at me. 

—- —-

Duen: All snacks are gone. Bohn: I AM LITERALLY RIGHT HERE?! 

—- —-

Ram: You’re drunk. King: Correction: drinking. Present tense. Grammar, Ram. 

—- —-

Mek: Have I ever told you that you cook well? Boss: Awww, no, you haven't! Mek: So why do you keep cooking? 

—- —- Ram: You’re giving me a sticker? King: Not just a sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying “me-wow!” Ram: I’m not a preschooler. King: Fine, I’ll take it back- Ram: I earned this, back off! 

—- —- King: We just ate. Why are you making pancakes? Ram: For the dogs. King: Why are you making pancakes for the dogs? Ram: They don’t know how. 

—- —-

this one is fairly short compared to my other incorrect quote compilations, but i promise, i will be back. 

also im planning to post another eclipse incorrect quotes post in like five minutes 

[hermitdrabbles56]

Twilight is secretly the one who has the book obsession. :)

Twilight had been seat for all of two seconds, tucked up against a tree with his bag at his side when he found himself with a lap full of colorful clothes.

Four had been staving off a headache since they portal jumped that afternoon, and it looks like the beast with and anvil the hammer was winning.

So Twilight just gives a soft hum and rubs his head a slight bit. "How bad?"

"Ow.."

"Okay...what do you need?"

The smallest hero waists no time in getting comfortable. Curled up in the farmers lap like it's a perfectly built nest and making grabby hands for the wolf pelt still resting on on the bigger males shoulders. So with a soft chuckle he carefully undoes the clips holding it in place and pulls it off. Ploping it over four who practically purrs, hanging onto the fluffy bundle like it's a stuffed animal and burying his face in the soft fur.

"Do you want silence, or a distraction?"

"Distraction please....can you read?" Four mumbles into the fur.

He gives a soft chuckle. "Apparently headaches give you mind reading abilities, anything in particular you'd like too hear?"

"Not smart..brain can't handle the thinking."

Twilight gives another chuckle and starts reaching into his bag. Ever greatful for the magical thing as he starts digging around for the right bundle. "Perfect, I actually just picked up some new books."

"...didn't you pick some up last time?" Legend questions as he looks over.

"Yeah, but already read them and these had some new stories." Twilight grins.

"Shouldn't...we not be picking up books? For you know...timeline sakes?" Warriors questions carefully.

"Let's be real Timelines fucked! Go crazy go stupid." Wild announces unabashedly.

"Well..I wouldn't say fuck...hmm." Time stops mid sentence and contemplates his words for a moment. "Yeah no..no it's fucked.."

Wind just about snorts his water and is left in a laughter filled coughing fit as he topples off his log.

"Okay okay but like, still, how have you already gone through the last batch of books?? You got like five of them in my world!" Legend questions as he turns his attention back to Twilight.

"I read on my watches when I'm not doing something else!"

"We were in my world only a few weeks ago!"

"Soo??? Most of them were informal texts anyways those are fairly easy to breeze through." Twilight says with a shrug.

"You actually read informational stuff..?" Hyrule questions with a tilt of his head.

"Ehh, only certain things really but yeah! It's fun to learn new things."

"You'd like his herbology books they're super helpful." Wild pipes.

"..mm....speaking of when brain working again I wanna borrow that blacksmithing book you found when we went too Wilds hyrule." Four murmurs from under the wolf pelt.

"Which one?" Twilight asks with the tilt of his head.

"The old one...?"

He lets out another small chuckle. "Again which one?"

"..it's green?"

"Oh that one!"

"How many do you have!?" Warriors questions further.

"He has sooo many." Four mumbles as he looks over at the captain.

"How many is so many?" Sky finally pipes up.

"Bet its not as many as Legend!" Wind giggles now that he can breathe again.

"Oh no. It's worse." Legend admits.

"It's not that bad is it?" Twilight questions.

"There's no way it's that bad." Warriros deadpans.

"He could fill a royal library...granted thats with the extensive collection he has at his house but with the two combined someone could drown." Legend says right back in the same flat tone.

"Okay now that's an exaggeration." Twilight frowns.

"Okay but seriously how many do you have..?" Hyrule asks as he crawls over to him and Four.

"Mmmmmm..."

Reaching into his bag again Twilight starts pulling them out, by the bundle. They're all carefully organized held together by leather straps made specifically for carrying books. Though some are just bundled with twine.

There's herbology, agriculture, culture in general, blacksmithing plants and animals and even books on things the rest of them are interested in as well as many more. And of course, various story books both big and small. Even some that look like they've never properly been published.

Overall once the majority is layed out Twilight gives a sheepish little chuckle while rubbing at the back of his neck.

"See? It's not that bad."

[garciaasfluffypen]

addiction

word count: 1.3k pairing: spencer reid x reader warnings: drug use (not explicitly written/described) 

a/n: sorry not sorry. this is also on my wattpad so if you feel like you’ve read it you probably have

spencer wasn't himself.

he was more jittery, sneaking off every now and then and it was getting on your nerves mainly because he wouldn't talk about it. so of course, in secret, you texted his boss to see if he had noticed anything different. hotch had told you that yes, he was acting different, and he feared that he was on drugs. after talking to hotch for a while, you decided to search his drawers.

was that a good idea? not in the slightest. were you doing it anyway? yes.

five minutes later you found the bottles of dilaudid in his drawer. you grabbed them and set them down on the kitchen table, opening your laptop and typing the name into google to read up on it. maybe this wasn't the reason he was off. maybe it was because he wasn't getting enough sleep or something mundane like that. you didn't want to think that spencer was taking drugs, but from what you had heard, tobias sent spencer down a dark path. it pained you to think about what spencer had gone through during those few days, and you didn't want to relive the pain you had gone through when garcia texted you that spencer was missing.

there was a click at the front door and you shut your computer, crossing and uncrossing your legs under the table as you tried to figure out how to start the conversation.

"y/n, i- what the fuck?!"

well, you thought, that's one way to start it.

"spencer, we need to talk."

"you went through my stuff!"

"i'm fucking concerned about you, of course i did!" you spat back, standing up and sending the chair flying across the wooden floor.

"you have no reason to be concerned about me."

your hands slammed down on the table. "yes i do! you're fucking on drugs, spencer."

it had been forever since you called him by his first name and only his first name. it sounded foreign coming from your lips.

"for the past four months you've been edgy, moody and all around not fun to be with. it's been a blessing when you're gone because i don't walk on eggshells when you're not here. but hotch sees it too. and so does the rest of the team, i'm presuming. you're fucking stupid, spencer. DRUGS? what on earth made you think doing an equivalent to morphine was okay?"

"you have no reason to be in my business-"

"yes i fucking do! i'm your girlfriend, spencer. i can be in your business all i want."

spencer ran a hand through his hair. "you could have at least asked me!"

"what, and have you dodge the question? tell me 'oh, i'm fine, i'm not on drugs!'  yeah, think again buddy."

spencer went to grab the vials off the table, but you were faster. you scooped them up from where they were sitting, turning around and throwing them against the wall and watching them break, the clear liquid sliding down the wallpaper as the glass shattered and fell to the floor. spencer ran over to where it had dropped, falling to his knees and slamming the floor with his fist.

"you have no idea what kind of damage you just did."

"hasn't this addiction done enough damage already?"

your voice turned quiet, your hands falling down just in front of your stomach as you played with them nervously. tears pricked at your eyes but you willed them back, telling yourself you were too strong to cry. you couldn't cry in front of him. not right now. not ever. and to be honest, you had gotten scared of him. scared of how his mood was going to be when he came home from a case, or how he was going to be when he woke up in the morning. it was always a game of "will he won't he", and you were fucking tired of it. and this was going to be the end of it.

"i almost left, while you were gone."

you swore you heard spencer choke back a sob.

"i uh- i was gonna go couch hop on my friend's couch for a while. i'm scared of you, spence. i am. before i found the-" you cut yourself off, not bearing to say the word out loud because that would make it real.

"y/n-"

"let me finish." you took in a breath. "i don't know which spencer i'm going to get anymore. and half the time, it's the mean spencer that scares me half to death. i don't sleep when you're here. i lay in bed, awake, waiting for you to do something you'd regret to me. i'm constantly on edge and i hate it. i hate this, i hate this apartment and fuck! i hate you so much!"

you fell to the floor, the tears you were trying to hide finally escaping. defeated, you curled in on yourself, almost mimicking the position spencer was in as his head poked up, staring at you with the first hint of concern you had seen in months.

"you need help, spencer. real help. i'm working with hotch to find a rehab group for you. but i need to know how much more of that is in the apartment."

"y/n-"

"i'm being serious."

"i'm not- i don't have any more."

"how much more is there, spencer?"

the silence in the room was tense, your voice cutting through the air like a knife in bread. it was at this moment, spencer knew he had fucked up. and it showed. his face fell, as if he were defeated, and he slumped down into a ball like shape as he fought with himself about telling you or not. you'd find it either way, you had quite a talent at finding things that were hidden. just like you found those three little bottles in his bedside table.

the three bottles that had almost broken your relationship.

"in my satchel."

his voice was high pitched, almost as if he were fighting back tears, much like you were moments ago. he slid the satchel to you, both of you staring at it as it sat on the floor.

"front left pocket, just under the flap."

"is that it?"

"yes."

you took the bottles from the pocket, counting another four. before you could even tell him to move, spencer rolled out of the way so you could throw them at the wall, destroying the vials for good. the two of you sat there, in the silence, contemplating what to do next.

"we should get that cleaned up."

spencer could only nod as he made his way to the bathroom, coming out moments later with a dustpan and broom. you went to the kitchen to get some paper towels, pausing with your back facing him. another moment of silence passed, the two of you standing on practically other sides of the apartment. the two of you cleaned in silence, both of you trying to find the right words to say but failing each time.

"i'm gonna go sleep at molly's for a while, just until you're okay enough. hotch is getting you set up with a rehab program, and he'll watch you while you're in it."

that was when spencer finally noticed the suitcase by the door, packed and ready to go.

"i'm doing this out of love, you know."

"i know." spencer's voice turned quiet this time. "'m sorry."

"its okay. i know you went through a lot."

"i shouldn't have put you through that-"

"you didn't know you were."

you shot him a sad smile, slipping on your shoes and grabbing the handle of your suitcase.

"i love you."

you could only stare at spencer's grief stricken face as he watched you leave, not even saying goodbye.

[herrmannhalsteadproduction]

Honesty. Horrible, Horrible Honesty. (Chapter Five)

Summary: This is Part Eighteen of my series A Herrmann/Halstead Production. It is an AU where Christopher Herrmann's mom had an affair with Pat Halstead resulting in a baby. The series follows this OC character (Rebecca "Bex" Herrmann) as she grows up and gets to know her brothers and the various Chicago teams. It is very much an AU, just to underscore that. It doesn't follow the same timeline and characters will follow different paths.

Click here for the Series Rundown where you can find the links to read all of the previous installments (which I highly recommend you do so that this one makes sense.)

Rating: Teen and Up

Relationships: Christopher Herrmann & Original Female Character, Jay Halstead & Original Female Character, Will Halstead & Original Female Character, Jay Halstead & Will Halstead, pre-Greg 'Mouse' Gerwitz/Original Female Character, Will Halstead/Connor Rhodes, Assorted OC Couples

Warnings: Referenced Domestic Violence and Threatening Behaviour (these are warning tags for a brief scenes with Ty), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, A Brief Scene of Violence, Mild Injury, Swearing, Characters Working Through Trauma, Repairing Relationships, Fluff, I Swear There are Funny Bits Along with the Emotional Bits

A/N: Chapter Five was getting too long so I had to split it into two! The second part will be posted as Chapter Six later today or tomorrow. Lots of intense stuff in that one! Stay tuned!

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Will

Unsurprisingly, Bex was still asleep when Will woke up bright and early the next day. He’d checked in on her to make sure she was still alive, but other than that he decided to leave her be.

Sleep was the best medicine for her right now.

Emery had texted him to say one of her friends she’d stayed with was dropping her back at the house after her therapy appointment so it wasn’t like Bex would be alone for long.

He had just enough time to make a very necessary stop before work.

*** Chris

It was going to be one of those mornings.

“Lee Henry, help Max with his backpack, please,” Chris called out, trying to get a handle on the morning chaos. “Annabelle, put the sword down.”

Cindy had some kind of a bug and he’d told her to stay in bed while he got the kids ready for school. He had a feeling he’d be crawling in there with her once he got them out the door.

“The bus is gonna be here in five minutes, Luke,” he said, throwing his hands up. “Where are your pants?”

They made it to the stop with seconds to spare. “Love you and you and you and you. Be good.” Always had to tack that last bit on for Annabelle.

Chris enjoyed the few moments of peace the world gave him on the walk back from the bus stop only to find a grim-faced Will waiting on his door step.

“I need to talk to you,” he said. “About Bex.” Will sighed. “And Jay.”

Definitely one of those mornings. “Come on in,” Chris said to Will, opening the front door. “I’ll put the coffee on.”

Will followed and took the seat Chris cleared for him at the kitchen table. “Sorry for barging in like this—”

“Hey, no, you’re family,” Chris said, waving away the apology. “That means you’re welcome here any time. For anything.”

He puttered around with the coffee machine, expecting Will to dive into whatever it was he needed to talk about and turning around when he didn’t—and found the man sitting there with a stunned, but pleased little smile.

Chris clearly needed to invite Will over on his own more often.

“Oh, Will!” Cindy smiled at him as she came into the kitchen. “I didn’t hear you come in. It’s so nice to see you, hun.” She gave him a hug before heading over to the toaster.

“Are you sure you’re okay to be up, Cind?” Chris really hadn’t liked how she’d been looking this morning. “I could have brought you stuff.”

“You’re not feeling well?” Will sat up, alarmed. “I can get out of your hair—but what are your symptoms? Can I help?”

Cindy shook her head with a quiet laugh. “Hush, you two, I’m fine,” she said. “I had a bit of an upset stomach this morning, but I’m feeling much better now,” she explained to Will. “Nothing a bit of toast won’t finish settling.”

She did have more colour in her cheeks. Chris was still glad he was home for the morning so he could keep an eye on her just in case. But in the meantime… “Will was about to tell me what’s been going on with Bex and Jay,” he told her as he poured out the coffees and handed one over to Will.

Cindy’s eyes widened. “Oh, finally!”

Will choked on his sip. “Wait, you know?”

“All we know is that something’s going on,” Chris said, plopping down into his own chair. “They’ve both been acting weird and Bex is avoiding us which means there’s something she doesn’t want to talk about. I’ve been trying to wait her out—”

“And he’s been mostly patient about it too.” Cindy ran an affectionate hand over his head as she came to join them at the table with her toast.

“I’m trying!” Chris exclaimed. “I know they’re both adults and will come for advice in their own time if they need it. I get it. But they’re taking their sweet time working it out on their own.”

“Yeah, that’s because they’re not,” Will said. “It’s a mess. They’re a mess.”

“Uh-oh.” Both Cindy and Chris frowned before Chris leaned in. “Start at the beginning.”

Will groaned. “Okay.” And then he dove in—starting with the pact between Will and Bex to ask out Will and Connor which was actually kind of disgustingly cute, but things took a sharp turn after that.

With Jay letting his hurt and fear offer advice.

And Mouse taking said advice.

And Bex spiralling and drinking.

And a whole history he knew nothing about with some asshole named AJ?

Plus a bet that apparently everyone they knew had been involved in which actually surprised him the least out of everything Will had told them, but that, judging by her face, Cindy would be giving folks an earful about.

“I’ve been trying to give her space,” Will said, staring down into his coffee. “But I’m worried. Really worried. It’s like, she thinks if she says she’s fine often enough, that’ll make it magically true, but she keeps moving further and further away from fine.”

He sat back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “She’ll probably be pissed I talked to you guys—”

“If she is, she’ll get over it,” Chris said. “Helping her through this is more important. Have you talked to Jay much?”

Will shook his head. “Between Bex and work, I’ve had my hands full,” he said. “Plus, he seemed like he needed time for things to sink in a bit more. Talking to him any earlier wouldn’t have done much.”

“It’s not all on you anymore, okay?” Chris reached over to grasp Will’s shoulder. “I’m glad you came to us so we can help. Bex is working a shift at Molly’s tonight. I’ll try and get a feel for where she’s at and talk to her when we close or I’ll kidnap her tomorrow or something.”

Will stared at him and then snorted.

“What?”

“Sorry,” Will shook his head, chucking. “Sorry, it’s just—sometimes you and Bex are ridiculously alike.”

“I’m gonna take that as a compliment,” Chris decided. Better that than to ask for examples he might not want to hear. “I’ll try to grab Jay for lunch today too and see what I can get out of him.”

Will relaxed, still looking exhausted, but not quite like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Or, you know, the emotional weight of a huge fight between his siblings.

Not on his own anyway. Not anymore.

“We’ll get them sorted,” Chris assured him. “Don’t worry.”

“Now, do you have time for some breakfast?” Cindy asked. “Christopher makes a fairly delicious egg sandwich.”

“Fairly delicious, she says.” Chris clutched a hand to his heart. “Like it’s not a masterpiece. A taste explosion, Will, I’m telling you.”

Will laughed. “I could spare the time for a taste explosion,” he said. “Thanks.”

They got him fed and poured him another two cups of coffee before seeing him on his way. Kid was going to buzz his way through his shift, but at least Chris was more certain he’d make it through his shift now.

As soon as they had the house to themselves, Chris turned to Cindy. “Who the hell is AJ?”

“I have no idea,” she exclaimed, picking up her phone. “Bex has never said a word…what was his last name again?”

Chris wracked his brain. “M-something. Ma—Meh—no, Michaels. AJ A-hole Michaels.”

Cindy shot him a look as she typed. “I’ll just search for the full name then, shall I?”

“Oh, you are feeling better,” he laughed, crowding in beside her to look at the screen. “Did you find him?”

“Yes,” she said with a frown. “Not sure why Bex is following him on Instagram given everything Will said, but this is him. Oh. He’s quite handsome, isn’t he? Hm.”

“Lemme see that.” Chris took the phone and scrolled through a few photos of what was admittedly an attractive guy. Didn’t make his face any less punchable. “Eh. She can do better.”

“Obviously.” Cindy snatched her phone back. “And she will once Mouse gets his head on straight. Right now though, we focus on her and Jay.”

“Yes, okay, I’m going to call Jay and see if he’s free,” Chris said, hunting around for his own phone.

“And I’m going to call Trudy about this bet.” Cindy opened up her contacts with a determined glint in her eye.

Looked like one of those mornings was turning into one of those days…for everyone.

***

Bex

Sun.

No.

No, thank you.

Ugh.

This was why Bex didn’t drink whisky.

Or drink for two nights in a row.

Or drink this much. Full stop.

She lay on her stomach and tried to decide if she was going to puke.

Fifteen minutes later, things were holding steady enough that she fumbled around a hand on her side table until she found her phone.

Squinting through the bright light of the screen, she checked her messages.

Will was gone to work. He wanted to talk later.

Pass.

Emery was getting a ride home from therapy from Kira.

Good.

The pottery place stuff was ready for pick-up.

Crap.

She should probably go get that. Figuring out how to get it to everyone without accidentally running into Jay or Mouse could come later.

And lastly, a long message from Patti saying she knew Beau was drunk when he made the offer, but that it was a serious one.

The offer…

Was Patti trying to wingman for Beau? That was…weird…but sweet…

Oh, WAIT. The tour offer. Right.

That conversation was coming back to her now.

Patti went on to reiterate it in her message that coming on tour with them at any time over the next few months was an open offer if she wanted a change of scenery.

Bex sighed.

And found herself actually seriously considering it.

Getting away from…everything sounded pretty good right about now.

The apartment door opened and closed, but no one called out and Bex really hoped it wasn’t a murderer because she was easy pickings at the moment.

Maybe she could play dead until they went away—she probably looked the part well enough.

Her bedroom door opened and then she heard a very familiar sigh.

“Hey, Emery,” she croaked out as her friend crawled into bed beside her.

“Hey.” Emery snuggled in with a groan. “You’ve got the right idea staying in bed.”

Bex hummed and reached out to pat at her head. “Rough time at therapy?”

“Yeah.” Emery sighed again. “I know it’s helping,” she said. “It’s just…a lot to talk about—rehashing everything and trying to process it. Twists my brain.”

“Proud of you though,” Bex whispered.

“Me too.”

They snoozed together for awhile longer before finally hauling themselves out of bed and making food.

“Oh, hey,” Emery said around a mouthful of toast. “I saw your lil’ show with Beau.”

“You and way too many other people.” Bex rolled her eyes. “I should never have let Elle put that on Instagram. I know people liked it, but it’s feeling a little too public today.”

“Feel any better after singing it out?” Emery raised an eyebrow at her and Bex shrugged.

“I think it got some of the angst out,” she said. “Still plenty to go around though.” A piece of paper on the table caught her eye. “And now I have a bunch of creepers to go through and block.” She waved the list at Emery. “Connor made a list while he and Will watched.”

“Aw,” Emery cooed. “That’s so sweet! Will got a good one there.”

“Acknowledging the creepy behaviour of other dudes is a pretty low bar to clear,” Bex said as she grabbed her phone. “But yes, we’re keeping Connor for sure.”

She set the list down and opened up Instagram. “Okay, let’s see what we’ve got here.”

Bex entertained Emery for the next few minutes as they went through the list and read some of the comments that had been left on her profile—ranging from kind of cringey, but funny to some that were seriously yikes.

“This is actually a very polite request for me to record myself singing ‘nekkid’, but they used the wrong ‘your’ so I will respectfully decline,” Bex said as she proceeded to block sexmangod5820983.

“Let me see one,” Emery said, making grabby hands at the phone. Bex handed it plus the list over and let her go to town.

“Ooh, okay, this guy made a ton of comments,” she said, scrolling through Bex’s pictures. “You should only sing sad songs. Your pain is so beautiful. I’d love to see you cry. Oh, Jesus—I’m reporting this one. He’s creepy. Goodbye, yeschef.”

Emery finished off the list with increasing disgust. “Why are people like this?” she asked, moving to hand Bex’s phone back to her before pausing.

She looked down at the screen and then stared at Bex. “Rebecca Marie Herrmann,” she said slowly.

Uh oh.

“Why the fuck are you following AJ?”

“What?” Bex tried to snatch her phone back, but Emery held it out of reach. “I’m not! Em, what are you talking about?”

“You are.” Emery showed her the screen, displaying a post from AJ right at the top.

What the hell?

“I don’t know how that happened? I swear, I—” Bits of the previous night started coming back to her. A message from AJ. Deleting it. Looking at his profile. Swiping away…

“Shit,” Bex said. “I must have accidentally hit follow.”

“Explain!” Emery demanded, shaking the phone at her and Bex groaned before dutifully relaying everything that happened when she got home last night and how she may have accidentally followed AJ back.

“Bex.” Emery shook her head when the story was done. “I know things are rough right now, but I have to say this. We are not doing AJ again—no, let me finish. You need to block his profile for your own good, okay? He’s too much of a shithead to let anywhere near your life anymore.”

“I have no intention of having anything to do with him ever again,” Bex said, finally getting a hold of her phone again. “There. Blocked, see?” She showed the screen to Emery who nodded firmly. “Last night was a moment of weakness, but I’m good now. No more AJ. Ever again.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna need a pinky promise on that.” Emery held a hand out and Bex rolled her eyes, but followed through on the pinky shake.

“For the record, I would like a little more faith that I wouldn’t go down that road again,” she said.

“Listen,” Emery said, taking a sip of her tea. “We all have our kryptonite and AJ was yours for a long time so I’m just trying to look out for you.”

Bex understood that. She really did. But she’d managed to ignore his message last night and following him back was genuinely an accident. She felt like she could honestly say AJ wasn’t her kryptonite anymore.

…someone was filling that position these days.

And that was enough thinking about that!

“So what are your plans for the day?” she asked Emery.

“I was going to head into the office this afternoon if you don’t mind taking me?”

“Of course not,” Bex said. “I’ve got to go and pick up the pottery store stuff anyway. What time are you going to be done though because I work at Molly’s later.”

“Ben said he could pick me up,” Emery said before chewing on her lip pensively. “I hate relying on everyone to take me places. I feel like I should be able to go by myself at this point, but the thought of being by myself on the bus or in a parking lot—I still see him sometimes and I know—”

“Emery, stop,” Bex said, shaking her head. “We all understand, okay? And everyone wants you to feel safe. It’s only been a few weeks. I think it’s totally normal to be feeling this way and I’m happy to give you a ride forever if it helps you.” She smiled at her and raised her hand. “Pinky promise.”

Emery stared at her hand for a moment before twining her pinky with Bex’s for the shake. “Thanks.”

“That’s what friends are forrrrr,” Bex sang at her dramatically which didn’t help her head, but was worth it to make Emery laugh.

They took turns with the shower and managed to get ready in time to deliver Emery at work in time and then Bex swung around to the pottery place to pick up their box of incredibly ugly stoneware.

Then she sat in her car outside of the precinct and tried to decide what to do.

Going in was not an option.

She pulled out her phone.

BEX: Are you busy?

KIM: I’ve got a minute. What’s up?

BEX: I’m outside. Would you mind coming out to meet me BUT DON’T TELL ANYONE.

KIM: omw

Kim appeared a few minutes later and spotted Bex, hurrying down the sidewalk to meet her.

“Hey,” she said, a concerned frown flitting across her face. “You okay?”

“If I say I can’t face seeing Jay or Mouse right now, would you accept that without any further questions?” Bex asked hopefully.

Kim studied her seriously for a moment before nodding. “What do you need?”

“I’ve got the stuff from the pottery place in here,” she said, lifting the box in her arms. “I took out my stuff and Will and Connor’s and I was hoping you could hand out everyone else’s? I figured Julie could take Shay and Sylvie’s…”

“Absolutely,” Kim said. “That’s no problem. Except—no, don’t worry about it.”

“Okay, you can’t say that and not think I won’t worry about it for the rest of the day,” Bex said. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure if anything’s wrong,” Kim said. “But Mouse called in sick today.”

That felt like something to worry about.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Kim hurried to say. “I can take his and give it to him when he’s back at work which will probably be tomorrow so let’s not stress about it.”

Bex tried to push back all of the worst-case scenarios crowding her mind and opened the box while Kim held it. “I’ll take his,” she said. “I’ll give it to him later.”

“Are you sure?” Kim caught her eye. “I know it can be tough when you’re in a situation like this to see someone before you’re ready. I don’t mind taking care of it.”

She considered it—thought about how much easier it would be—but it didn’t feel right. She tried not to examine too hard whether it was because she wanted to take it as a sign that they’d work their shit out eventually or because she just wanted to keep a piece of him close.

UGH. This was just sad.

Bex cursed herself.

And she cursed her frickin’ kryptonite.

Thanking Kim for helping her out, she hopped back in her car and headed home. The shower hadn’t cut it. She needed a long soak and another nap if she was going to kick the last dregs of her hangover before her shift at Molly’s.

One step in front of the other.

With snacks.

She could do this.

***

Kim

She wanted to wrap Bex up in a gigantic hug and tell her it would all be okay, but she also knew how unhelpful that would be at the moment.

Kim had experienced enough of her own ups and downs with Adam to know what that heartbreak was like. Time was the only thing that would help Bex get through this.

And chocolate.

Maybe she’d pick her up some of her favourites.

She headed back inside the precinct only to be stopped immediately by Sergeant Platt.

“Hold on, Burgess,” she said, leaning against her desk. “What have you got there?”

Kim bit back a sigh. “You really don’t want to know.” Please let it go, she silently pleaded, but—

“No dice, come here and let me see,” Platt demanded, waving her over.

Trudging over to her doom, Kim set the desk down on the counter and let Platt open the top of the box. She peered inside.

And blinked.

“Well, Burgess, for once you were correct,” she said, closing the box back up. “Please remove this from my workspace and never let it darken my doorstep again.”

Kim did not have to be told twice. She swung the box back into her arms and hustled up the steps to Intelligence.

“Presents,” she declared as she set the box down on her desk. Adam and Kevin came over immediately and cheered when they saw what was inside, carefully taking their own items out.

Kim grabbed her phone and texted Julie to let her know she had her stuff, plus Shay’s and—

“Uh, I can take Sylvie’s to her,” Kevin said quietly.

She paused in her typing to give him a little side-eye. “Is that so?”

“Don’t make it a thing,” he said, with the tiniest little headshake. “Breakfast at the diner on me and I’ll tell you everything if you can be chill about this right now.”

Kim pretended to consider that for a moment before nodding at the box. “Deal.”

He discreetly removed Sylvie’s box from the mug and went back to his desk.

Interesting. Very interesting.

“Where did this stuff come from?” Jay asked, coming over as she finished her text to Julie.

“Oh, uh, Bex dropped it off,” Kim said. She didn’t want to get herself caught up in a lie when they hadn’t worked out a story yet.

“Bex is here?” His head whipped toward the stairs and Kim caught his arm gently.

“Was,” she said. “She had to go so I said I’d take it up.”

His face fell and Kim wanted to say something—ask him what was going on, if he wanted to talk, if he was okay, anything—but it smoothed out just as quickly and he took his own item before heading back to his desk.

It had to be something to do with Mouse and Bex falling through and Mouse calling in sick today and who knew what else, but the middle of their office wasn’t exactly the best place to start a conversation about it.

Maybe she could catch him in the locker room later.

“What the hell is that?” Al was standing beside Adam’s desk, squinting down at his mug.

“I made it,” Adam said, proud smile spreading across his face.

“I can see that,” Al said, raising an eyebrow at him. “You know that thing is about five HR violations in one?”

“They’re lilacs, Olinsky,” Adam snapped.

“Keep telling yourself that, kid.”

Click here to read Chapter Six. Click here to read Chapter Seven. Click here to read Chapter Eight. Click here to read Chapter Nine. Click here to read Chapter Ten. Click here to read Chapter Eleven.

Click here to read Honesty. Horrible, Horrible Honesty on ao3:

And here is the tag list (let me know if you wish to be added or removed):

@sorry-i-spaced, @iunnowatuwant, @thegirlwhowishedeveryonelived, @ivyalmighty, @thewannabewriter, @lexhalstead3, @multifandomgrl08, @foxes-and-cats, @sensitivemallysix, @thebewingedjewelcat