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mymelodyheart · 4 years ago

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All I Want For Christmas Is You Chapter 7 ~The Holiday Feeling~

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WARNING: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT

Previously in Christmas Treats ...

After Annalise had left for a night out of bowling and dinner with Willie, she'd put on her new pyjamas, a long coat so no one in the street would notice what she was wearing underneath when she walked to Jamie's cottage and a pair of Ugg boots. All the while, her stomach did a mad flip-flopped, and she continually found herself staring into space, almost tripping on the way to Jamie's house.

Obviously, she hadn't finished staring into space because when Jamie opened the door after she'd knocked, sending her hurtling back to the present, she was speechless. Rollo dashed out of the house and circled her happily, jumping on her.

Jamie grinned and opened the door wider. "Sassenach! Get in here! We have a guest."

"Oh!?" I thought we're alone.

She pulled the coat tighter and patted Rollo's head. She remembered Annalise's word not to brace herself too hard, took a deep breath, relaxed and stepped into Jamie's house.

What she saw next, took her by surprise.

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"Oh, it's alive. I thought it's a toy. What's that?" Claire asked as she stepped into the cottage and saw movement in the shoebox on the floor. Rollo flopped himself down beside it like he was the keeper and protector. "Is this the guest you're talking about?"

"One of them." Grinning, Jamie shut the door and followed her gaze. "Can't ye tell what's in the box? Harry found the poor wee thing mewling under the bushes in the park. It cannae be more than a week old. Probably wandered away from the litter and got lost. It's good Harry found her when he did. I dinnae think it would have survived tonight in this cold."

"It's a kitten!" Placing the paper bags she had on the rug, she got on her knees, picked up the ball of grey fur and held it against her chest. Half of its body was cocooned into a red child's sock, and its tiny head had a comical covering. "Goodness, it's even got a hat with earholes. I've never seen anything like this."

Jamie beamed. "Not my doing. Harry brought it all bundled up like that already."

"Who's Harry? Another sibling?" she asked, nuzzling her face into the tiny furry body before carefully depositing it back into the shoebox.

Ach, Harry! He was here a minute ago. "No. A mate. He's here somewhere. I invited him to stay for dinner. Give me a sec." He'd been distracted by Claire's arrival, he'd forgotten all about his unexpected visitor.

Jamie left Claire in the living area and went to look for his friend. When he felt a draft of cold air, he went into the kitchen thinking Harry probably went to have a peek at his back garden.

He poked his head out the back door. "Harry!" he called out. There was no answer. Where the bloody hell has he disappeared to?

All throughout the day he'd been looking forward to tonight after he'd spent the afternoon putting up a Christmas tree he'd bought at a tree farm and decorating it with ornaments belonging to his grandmother from his mother's side. And of all days, Harry had to drop by. Not that Jamie wasn't glad to see him, but the timing was terrible as spending some alone time with Claire was on top of his agenda. Nevertheless, he'd invited the Englishman to stay for dinner. But where the hell is he?

He scoured the yard, but he couldn't find Harry. Suddenly feeling the cold, he slipped back into the kitchen to check the pot roast. It was already ready after he'd left it in a slow cooker to cook all day.

Earlier this morning, after he'd dropped by at Claire's B&B cottage and kissed her, it had been a mammoth task to leaving her side, so he'd kept himself busy all day to make time go by faster. It was becoming apparent spending time away from her was starting to feel like the tension on a bungee cord. The longer the time they spent apart, the greater the urge to see her. And the line felt like it was getting shorter, like his threshold for not being with her was diminishing. If Harry was joining them for dinner, he hoped he wouldn't stay too long after dessert.

"Jamie?"

He glanced up to find Claire holding up a bottle of red wine.

"I splurged a bit. I hope this bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon will go with whatever you're cooking?"

Perfect! Putting the teatowel down, he grinned and approached her.

"It's a classic," he said, taking the bottle from her hand and putting it on the counter. He pulled her into his arms and brushed his lips against hers. "I'm sorry Sassenach, I havenae given ye a proper greeting."

She smiled against his mouth. "Where's your friend?" she asked when he was done kissing her.

He pulled away and ran a hand through his hair. "God knows! He probably left. Harry does that all the time. I've invited him to Lallybroch for tea countless of times, but he’s always refused. I guess he's just not a people person." Jamie decided not to worry about it. "Hungry?"

"Very." She glanced past his shoulder. "What are we having?"

"Pot roast."

"Hmmm, nice. Smells heavenly. Need help?"

"No, I have everything under control. Want something to drink?" Jamie asked, taking out wine glasses, plates and cutleries.

"Not just yet. I had a cuppa before I left the cottage." She smiled at him. "I love your home, especially that fireplace. Is it original?"

He checked the roasted root vegetables in the oven for doneness and shoved them back in again. "Aye, it's an original. This is a crofter's cottage from the eighteenth century, and I've salvaged most of the original fixtures and fittings."

"Love the Christmas tree too. Did you put it up today?" she asked glancing around the kitchen, peering out of the window and touching his collection of fridge magnets.

"Aye, I did."

"Those antique Christmas ornaments are stunning and much better than those plastic baubles you get in shops. I have a few antique ornaments myself. Just too bad, our London flat is not big enough to accommodate a proper Christmas tree." She lifted the lid off the slow cooker and took a whiff. "Mmm, this smells lovely."

He straightened and glanced at what she was wearing. "Sassenach?"

"Hmmm?"

"Why are ye still wearing yer coat? Are ye cold? I thought I put enough wood in the fire."

She grinned. "Oh, this. It's a surprise. Hang on a minute." She turned her back to him, and he waited with anticipation, watching her movements of undoing her coat. If she was wearing a negligee under that coat, he knew he would have a heart attack, and dinner would definitely be put on hold if not cancelled. But he rubbished his thoughts immediately, knowing she wasn't that type of lass. "Close your eyes!" she instructed, and he did.

"Ye're killing me."

"Patience!"

"Are ye naked under yer coat?" he teased.

"You wish!"

He heard rustling followed by footsteps.

"Right, you can open them now."

He slowly opened his eyes, and his gaze immediately landed on the front of her top. It was a Rudolph the Reindeer's face applique complete with a protruding shiny big nose. She was a bundle of red, wearing red fleece pyjamas with plaid bottoms, and her feet were covered in thick, red woollen socks. He laughed out loud.

"Wait for this. You haven't seen anything yet." Claire fiddled with something from under the hem and pulled the reindeer antler's hood from behind. The reindeer's nose on her front lit up, and the antlers stood lopsided on her head. The hoodie was far too big for her, and it hid one eye. "Ho, ho, ho!" she intonated in a low voice.

He chuckled and pulled her against him. "Ho, ho, ho, indeed. Where did ye get this? This is something for Christmas morning. It's almost as ridiculous as the Christmas jumpers."

"I know, right? As soon as I saw it, I knew I had to get it. Bought it today in Inverness. I thought since we've been doing all sort of Christmassy things together, I'd stick with the theme."

"That red nose is not going to keep flashing like that the whole evening, will it? It's very distracting."

She pressed something from under the top. "Nope. The show's over."

He arched an eyebrow and decided to tease her. "Really? What's underneath that top?"

She blushed, but the smile never left her face. "A hungry tummy."

"Brilliant! Shall we eat then?"

"Sure! I'll help set up the table."

Claire rattled off the things she did with Annalise that day. He was glad her friend had agreed to stay until Three Kings which would buy him more time getting to know Claire better. Jamie didn't want to think of the day when she would go back to London, even though it had been lurking all day at the back of his mind. Watching her work beside him in the kitchen, he was glad she felt comfortable and right at home. He wanted to make good memories with her just in case this was all they would ever have.

They served dinner like they'd been doing it together for years, pouring red wine, plating food he'd prepared and chatting the entire time. They sat opposite each other so Jamie could see every blush, expression and emotion that crossed her face, appreciating the fact she had an appetite, a sense of humour and took a keen interest in his work, life and Broch Mordha. He might have sounded a tad bit like a salesman trying to sell a lifestyle in a remote Highland village, and if she noticed, she didn't give any hints.

When they touched the delicate subject of his PTSD, he realised it was easier to talk about it this time. Claire spoke with refreshing candour, even suggesting alternative healing such as meditation and acupuncture, which he liked and made a mental note to look into it.

Throughout their meal, Claire spoke of her childhood, and in exchange, he talked about his family. From time to time, he would reach out to squeeze her hand so he could see the blush blooming on her cheeks or kiss her, to see the shy smile spreading across her face. Every second with her was a pleasant discovery, and he knew what a lucky bastard he was. How she was without a boyfriend was beyond him but thankful that she didn't have one.

After dinner, they cleared the table and did the dishes. And when Jamie took out Rollo for a short exercise, Claire fed the kitten with a wee bottle Harry had left him.

They took their coffee, a box of chocolate Claire loved, and the unfinished bottle of red wine into the living room. As Jamie put another log into the fire, Rollo curled up next to Claire. It was quite apparent, he wasn't the only one smitten. Smiling, he plopped down next to her and turned on the TV to watch Home Alone.

..........

When the film credits started rolling in the end, Jamie turned off the volume and stretched. He glanced over to Claire just in time to see her unwrapping a Ferrero Rocher chocolate. When she realised he was looking at her, she offered him the already unwrapped sweet.

He shook his head and smiled. "So, what do ye want to do?"

The room filled with silence as she exaggeratedly contemplated, tapping her chin and scrunching her nose while rolling the chocolate in her mouth.

His eyes dropped to the delicate lines of her jaw. The smooth, pale skin of her neck and the movement of her throat as she swallowed wreaked havoc with his concentration. He had a very vivid image of what they could do, and they involved running his tongue along the neckline of that ridiculous pyjama top. Since that option would probably send her running out the door, he quickly dismissed the idea. "More movies?" he suggested.

"No. Had enough. Do you know how to play poker?"

"Do I know how to play poker?" He laughed out loud. "I'm a master at the game."

Her eyes lit up. "You have a deck of cards?"

"Aye, I will go and get them." He got up from the sofa and headed towards a desk in the corner of the room. "Always love a game of poker."

"Oh, good. I haven't played for ages."

"What do we play for?"

She cleared the coffee table and crossed her legs. "We'll play for pennies, how about that?"

"I dinnae think I have any loose change."

"We'll think of something else. I'm dealing."

He handed her the deck of cards, put on some classic Christmas song, and then refilled their glasses. He sat beside her and watched with amazement as her fingers expertly flew through the cards with ease, shuffling with lightning speed. While concentrating on his hand, he wondered where she learned how to deal and surmised probably her uncle, the same man who taught her to play pool.

"Alright, here we go, dealer's choice. Five-card stud, ante up."

He glanced up at her. "Wait! We havenae decided what we're playing for."

"Oh, I forgot. You said you don't have any loose change."

"Maybe we ought to play for the family jewels."

She slapped him on the thigh. "Ha-ha! You funny man!"

His lips twitched. "Weel, any ideas?"

"Can't think of one at the moment."

"Wait a minute ...I have a verra interesting one."

Claire glared at him. "If you're thinking of strip poker, forget it."

He laughed out loud. "No, I didnae mean that. Although I wouldnae mind that." When she arched an eyebrow at him, he grinned. "I meant we'll play for favours."

She bit her lower lip. "Favours? What kind of favours?" she asked suspiciously.

"The first to win three hands gets a free favour from the other. It can be used at any time, like a voucher per se."

Her face suddenly became animated. "Can you use the favour for anything? How about the rules?"

He grinned. "Nae rules and ye can redeem yer favours on anything. Anything at all."

The challenge lured her in like a true gambler following the scent of a big stake. "Very well then, we're playing for favours."

He smothered the jubilant smile threatening to surface and quickly fixed his expression into poker-face, almost licking his lips with glee when she'd agreed.

She dealt, and he almost pumped his fist in the air at the obvious outcome, but he remained silent, watching her replace one of her cards.

After a while, he laid down his cards. "Flush."

"Cool. Two queens. Your deal." Her expression remained inscrutable. God, her poker face is good!

Jamie had to give her credit for keeping her emotions under control. Whoever taught her to play, taught her well and if it wasn't for his past experience, he felt in his guts she'd be one hell of a player to beat. Next, she threw down a pair of aces and yielded gracefully to his three twos.

"Alright, one more hand to go," he announced, subduing the mirth in his voice.

"My deal. I can count, ye ken," she said, imitating his accent. He kept his face impassive as he watched her dainty fingers flitting over the cards. "Care to share where you learn how to play poker?"

He inspected his hand casually. "Played a lot with my unit during my SAS days. Beats sitting around and twiddling my thumbs during long intervals."

"My uncle taught me," she shared. "As well as backgammon and chess."

He threw in a card and replaced it. "I have backgammon and chessboards if ye feel like playing for another time. I'm quite good at both games, in case ye're up for a challenge."

She let out an unladylike snort when she laid down her cards, displaying straight as victory gleamed in her eyes.

Jamie almost felt sorry for her. Not quite but almost.

He whistled low and shook his head. "Good hand." This time he allowed himself to smile. "But, sorry lass, it's no' good enough." He threw his cards down, showing four aces and then cockily stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned back on the sofa. "Nice game, though."

She gasped and looked at him with those beautiful golden orbs. "Jamie, the probabilities of four aces in five-card stud are ..." Her eyes widened. "Oh my word, you didn't!"

"What?"

"Why you cheeky sod ..."

"What, Sassenach?"

"Don't Sassenach me. You cheated!"

"No!"

"Yes, you did!"

He shook his head in feigned horror and tried to look offended. "Och, how could ye think that? Surely not! I ken ye're verra good at it, but this is all on luck."

Her pretty eyebrows slammed together. "No way you can get those four aces unless you palmed the cards. Admit it, because I was thinking of doing it myself, but I refrained from doing so!"

"Don't ye think yer accusation is a tad bit harsh?"

"Jamie, you cheated! I know you did. I can't believe you cheated on our date night. Oh, my God! How could you?"

"I did no such thing."

"Jamie!"

"No cheating occurred, Sassenach." He straightened up from his sitting position and smiled. "Now about that favour I won ..." But his voice trailed off when she abruptly stood up and placed her hands on her hips. "Sassenach?"

"You cheat!" Without warning, she propelled herself over the coffee table and into his arms. Air whooshed out of him as she toppled him back onto the sofa and slipped a hand under the sleeves of his sweatshirt, looking for the suspected hidden cards. Jamie grunted as the full weight of Claire landed on him, her intent on finding proof of foul play resolute. He attempted to regain his balance, but she shifted her attention somewhere else, making him fall back again. When her hands slipped into his pants pocket, he realised if she delved any deeper, she wouldn't come up empty-handed. Ah, sweet Jesus! With no other options, he flipped her onto her back and pinned both hands above her head.

The tie holding her hair somehow became undone during the struggle, causing her chocolate brown curls to spring forth and tumble down, and a few unruly locks to settle on her face. Jamie stared at the snapping golden eyes peeking between the strands, filled with determination despite his more considerable strength. Her chest heaved against her ridiculous top, the appliquéd Rudolf the reindeer staring mockingly at him. Without meaning to, his weight forced her thighs apart, and he wondered if she was aware of both their predicament. Or at least his.

Jamie knew he would be in deep trouble if he remained where he was, as she continued to wriggle under him.

"I know you're hiding the cards somewhere. I wasn't born yesterday, you know! Admit you cheated and I will forget this ever happened."

"Will ye keep still, Sassenach" he muttered. "Ye're torturing me."

She stuck out her bottom lip and blew a hard breath, the wayward curl lifting and blowing sideways, clearing her line of sight. "That's your conscience doing that. Did you know there's a special place in hell for cheaters?"

He muttered a curse under his breath. "Don't ye ever think of the repercussion to yer actions? Ye cannae just tackle a man like that."

"Oh? What are you going to do about it? Tell Santa to put me on his naughty list?"

Her body suddenly started to shake when she burst into fits of laughter at her own words, causing the heat in his groin to surge through his body like a wildfire gone out of control. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck! His blood buzzed in his head like a swarming fog, and even though he tried to shift all his thoughts on the fat man sliding down the chimney and getting stuck halfway, all he could only think of was the soft body beneath him. He tried not to breathe and held his body in a tight muscle lock and prayed Claire wouldn't make any more sudden big movements; otherwise, he was going to explode like a schoolboy and look like a glaikit idiot.

But when the realisation of his plight swiftly dawned on her, her mouth formed a comical O, and her face turned bright red, her previous intent on extracting a confession of his cheating, dissipating.

"Jamie?" Her voice was husky.

He swallowed hard and ignored the fact he had a big fat boner wedged between them. "Did I hurt ye? Didnae mean to be so rough."

"No. I'm fine."

"Are ye sure?"

She smiled, and he inhaled deeply to regain his composure. She smelled like shampoo and flowers and just a hint of fruit flavoured lollies, and he could just about see the pulse palpitating on her neck. Their position made his erection harder, and the way she was looking at him wasn't helping at all.

"You're a big lad," she gulped.

Ah, shite! "And ye're not helping," he said hoarsely, tamping down a groan.

"Shall I go?"

"No!" He took a deep breath and forced a smile. "Just be still for a moment, aye?"

"Alright."

They laid still for a while looking at each other.

Carefully, he let go of her wrists above her head and stroked her cheek with his thumb. "I can stare at ye like this for hours and never tire of it," he whispered. She smiled, and he kissed the smooth line of her jaw. When she tilted her head back, his lips trailed down of their own accord, bowing his body over hers as he worked his way to the side of her neck.

Hard as he was, he didn't move against her. He wanted her to feel safe and everything to be on her terms, letting her know this attraction went beyond sex. He held on to his control with a mental vice grip and simply appreciated the moment.

His combed his fingers through her curls, feeling the softness of it in his hand as he kissed her softly, never demanding or pushing even if it pained him a lot.

He heard Rollo sigh from somewhere in the house and the crackling of the fire in the hearth. He almost shot out the sofa as small hands tentatively explored his chest and shoulders, before sliding around his neck and up through his hair. Then they moved down his side and waist before her palms settled over the ridges of his stomach. He loved the small sounds she made at the back of her throat and the softness against every part of him that was hard. Every movement and sigh she made, her scent drifted and surrounded him, a heady pheromone, pulling him in closer.

When her hands slipped under his sweatshirt and settled at his lower back, his breath broke and went ragged, and an instant electric tension rose between them, turning their soft, playful kisses heated and more urgent.

As much as it hurt him to do so, he tore his lips away and looked into her eyes. "We dinnae have to do anything ye dinnae want, Sassenach. We can stop right now," he whispered, his voice sounding oddly gruff in his ears. He felt his cock protesting against his boxer shorts, but he ignored the mounting discomfort in his groin.

She shook her head. "No, I don't want to stop. Kiss me again."

Relief slammed through him as a ton of weight lifted off his back. "Sassenach, are ye sure?"

She nodded.

He was about to kiss her again when a gentle push of her hands on his chest stopped him.

"I've never done this before," she whispered.

"What do ye mean?"

She rolled her eyes. "I meant sex!"

Ah, Christ! A virgin living in London! How is that possible? Even for Broch Mordha, a virgin was a rarity. He shut his eyes for a few heartbeats, and when he opened them again, suddenly she looked unsure, almost embarrassed, and he felt she needed him to step up. He gave her a slow smile to put her at ease. "Do ye come with a user's manual? Never been with a virgin before."

Her face broke into laughter, and the tension eased a bit. "No! And before you start having all sorts of notions about virgins, I'm not all that naive. I have a fair idea of how it suppose to happen."

"Weel, no crash courses needed then," he joked before his face turned serious. "But why me, Sassenach?"

She gave him an unwavering look, her chin tilting up slightly. "Because I've never felt like this before."

Neither had he, but the wee voice in the back of his head reminded him this lass was the type of lass you brought home to introduce to your parents. Getting involved with her on a deeper emotional level wouldn't bode well for both of them as her life was in London, and he belonged here. He didn't want to hurt her. She deserved a man who could live in her world without falling down to his knees and having one of his episodes. But the gravitational pull between them was unrelenting. He needed her badly, but his conscience compelled him to offer one more out. One more, before he lost sight of the right thing to do.

"We can just continue kissing ...nothing needs to happen," he rasped, brushing their lips together. "Just say the word, Sassenach. I promise ye I wouldnae mind. I'm perfectly happy just to kiss."

Claire's breath caught as she scrutinised him, the weight of what could follow once they'd stripped each other's clothes written in her eyes. Probably in his, too. "I want this Jamie ... I'm ready."

He studied her for a long while, before making up his mind and nodding. "Wait here."

Getting up, he grabbed some blankets and throw cushions from the sofa and laid them out on the floor. And then he went to retrieve some condoms from the bedroom. After a couple of minutes fussing and finally satisfied with his handiwork, he picked Claire up and gently carried her by the fireplace. Though the fire was already slowly dying down, the embers still glowed, lending the room a cosy feel and warmth.

Claire looked up at him and beamed. "Well, I suppose this is the part where you take off your top."

He laughed out loud despite his balls almost on the verge of mutiny. What supposed to be a tense and awkward moment, was turning out to be fun. He didn't need telling twice. Grinning, he dragged his shirt over his head and was hovering over her under a split second. She looked mightily impressed as she pulled him down. "Wow, never seen anyone take their shirt off so fast," she breathed as he pressed his lips on the hollow of her throat.

"Ye should see how fast I can get yers off," he muttered against the crook of her neck.

She laughed and gently pushed him away. "I don't want my Rudolph top damaged. I'll take my own clothes off, thank you very much."

With his heart in his throat, he watched her stand and peeled off her pyjama bottom first. She had her back to him, and he figured she was trying to hide her blush. And when she took off her top next, his cock roared back to life, and he hurriedly followed suit, taking off his sweatpants, his eyes fixed on the smoothness of her long legs. Leaving her red bra and knickers on, she swiftly slipped next to him, her teeth clattering and her beautiful pale skin covered in goosebumps.

He gathered her immediately under him, rubbing her arms and the side of her body. "How's that? Still cold?" he asked, looking down at her.

She bit her lip and nodded. "Feeling a lot warmer now."

"Christ, ye smell so good."

"And you're so hot." When she realised what she just said, her eyes widened in horror. "I mean you're like a heating pad."

He grinned at her. "I know what ye meant, but I'll take the other meaning any day. It will do wonders for my ego."

She slapped his arm. "Your ego is perfectly intact, I can assure you."

He smiled as he skimmed his hand up her side and gently cupped her breast, waiting for her reaction. When he felt her back arch a little, he brought down his lips to hers, gently thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She let out a tiny whimper, opening and taking each thrust, conscious of her fingernails digging into his shoulders.

He reminded himself to take it slow and make it memorable for her, but when she parted her knees and allowed him to settle between her thighs, he groaned out loud and changed position, so the tip of his erection pressed right into her through their undies. The slow tease of their movements was maddening, and he wondered if she was aware of it. His cock was straining against her where it would slide in effortlessly if there had been nothing between them.

He felt her hooked her thumbs at the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down. He helped her by kicking them off while putting his fingers under the edge of her knickers. He paused with bated breaths, waiting for her permission, and when she lifted her hips, he groaned and kissed her long and thorough, pushing the flimsy scrap down her thighs.

He nipped at her lips, then trailed down with his tongue to nibble her neck, his fingers unsnapping the clasp of her bra. Claire flailed her head, seemingly unable to verbalise the reactions her body was experiencing, and he watched her with fascination. Emboldened, he cupped the weight of her breast, rolling her nipple, then gently tweaking it between his thumb and forefinger.

"Oh, God Jamie ..."

"It's good?"

She nodded, squeezing her eyes shut and rolling her lips in.

Jamie lowered his mouth and sucked her nipple, his tongue flicking and never letting up the frantic pace, his fingers trailing along her inner thigh, causing goosebumps to erupt on her skin. When he touched her core, she was already wet with need, making his head spin out of control. Fighting the urge to take her now, his index finger traced her folds, rubbing her wetness on her nub. The delicate hitch of her breath hit his ears the exact time his mouth abandoned her breast.

He met her gaze and sank into the amber depths of her eyes, so far gone with pleasure they turned to molten gold, full of feminine demand that battled past all obstacles and shattered them to pieces. The raw need etched in her features told Jamie she was past the point of no return, that she wanted him now and he knew the feeling.

"Sassenach ...are ye sure?"

"Oh, sweet Mother of God, if you stop now ..." her voice trailed off in a hiss.

"I need to hear the words."

"For God's sake, I want you, Jamie. Now."

Knocking back the reluctance to untangle himself from her, Jamie reared back and reached out for the condom he'd left beside the cushion. He quickly sheathed himself in stretched latex and prowled up her body, settling between her thighs and muffling her requests to hurry with a hard kiss.

"The first time ye come, I want it to happen while I'm sunk so deep in ye, ye'll never forget who broke it in," he muttered, words muffled by her lips.

"Oh, dear God ..." she moaned.

"Open yer legs wider for me, Sassenach."

She nodded, her fingers running over his cheekbones, lips, chin, as she hiked her knees up. Their breaths raced out of their mouths as he reached down and guided his cock to her opening. Slowly, he pushed inch by inch, allowing her to get used to his girth. When he was finally buried to the hilt, he collapsed and dropped her forehead to hers.

When he got his breath back, he braced himself on his elbow and looked into her eyes. "Did I hurt ye?"

"Just a little. I hardly noticed. Keep moving." She wrapped her legs around his hips, her fingernails scraping his back lightly on the way down to his arse, which she gripped with hesitation at first, then with more confidence.

With a groan, his hips started to roll of their own volition. He held his breath as heat threatened to flare up in his balls. "Oh fuck, ye feel so good."

"Don't stop ..." she gasped frantically moving her hips against him.

With a hand on her bottom, he lifted her hips effortlessly and drove himself deeper, the last shreds of his control dissolving as he fell on top of her like a dying man. His mouth travelled over hers, and she responded in kind, their tongues twining, their bodies moving in synchronicity to the erotic rhythm and dance. The root of his erection grated against her core and her hips lifted to meet his thrusts, her breaths coming out in pants. It was so breathtaking to watch her pleasure, and what his body is doing to hers, it constricted his heart.

When she dropped her legs from his hips to spread them wider, she let out a strangled moan, and his cock bore down, working her nub. He angled his body for more friction, watching and always conscious of her reaction. When her back arched, and her right leg extended further out, they descended into what felt like wanton madness. She whimpered and raised her hips to meet his thrusts, her inner walls beginning a slow, tight suction of his cock. Jamie was almost afraid to look at her, worried the sight of her would make him lose his restraint and come before her. But it was an impossibility to keep his eyes away when she looked so beautiful beneath him.

He watched her writhe and finesse flew out the window. He fell on her, grunting, sucking in huge gulps of air, pushing her thighs open as he drove faster, listening to her moans of his name, treasuring the throaty awe of them in his ears and all around him. Their mouths joined and gorged, her hands slapping down on his buttocks to pull him in deeper and push him faster. All thoughts of logic, questions and issues suspended as he dipped his head, lowered his mouth over her jiggling tits and continued to pump like a wild beast.

Her body suddenly stilled, before trembling violently underneath him in a climax accompanied by a soft moan, her inner walls squeezing his cock tight. Cursing under his breath, he yanked her legs up and drove himself with a few more hard thrusts to his own peak, a loud groan reverberating from his chest and echoing into the room. He squeezed his eyes shut as his body exploded and spilt his seed. He went from being a bundle of tensed nerves to being utterly devoid of it.

Utterly spent, he collapsed on top of her, gathering her against him, almost smothering the air out of her. His insides were totally decimated, mind blown and floated down like confetti.

Moments later, when he lifted his head and searched her eyes, he couldn't stop the widest grin from spreading across his face. And when she returned it with a twinkle in her eye, he fell irreversibly and completely in love with Claire Beauchamp.

..........

The next morning, Jamie got up extra early to let Claire sleep while he did a few chores around the house. He'd kept her up all night, making love and sometime in the early hours of the morning, he'd carried her to his bed. Sleep had been evasive, but this time the cause hadn't been his nightmares or one of his episodes. His thoughts had been filled with the future and its uncertainties instead of being plagued with the past. There were still some niggling doubts lurking in the recesses of his mind, and one of them was his concern when Claire returned to London.

How often had he asked himself in the past twenty-four hours if he could live in London to be closer to her? But now that he had an arboricultural business with Willie, it was doing very well and planning on expanding. He was excited about the community projects he was involved in and committed himself to working long-term. With his episodes and PTSD, the idea of being surrounded by busy streets, chaos, traffics, loud noises, and shoes on the pavement rather than fresh earth paralysed a piece inside him.

Jamie had spent the rest of the night staring into the darkness, wondering what the hell he was going to do. Eventually, some choices have to be made. And he wasn't sure if love would be enough for either of them and if Claire felt the same way.

Taking that leap would only end in heartache and worsen his condition. There had to be some other way. But he couldn't ask her to give up her life and career in London. Or could he? Could he give her what she needed? He shook his head and pushed the bugging thoughts away. They still had the time, and he should focus on that.

After letting Rollo out and bringing in more logs for the fireplace, he made some coffee, answered his emails and read some news on the internet. When his phone chirped and realised it was from his sister Jenny, he groaned. He decided to answer and get it out of the way.

Jenny: I heard all about the lass you're seeing. A city lass, no less. Have you gone mad? Haven't you learned your lessons?

Ah, fuck, I don't have time for this.

Jamie: Enjoy your holiday, and don't worry about me. It's just a winter fling. OK? She's on holiday, and she'll be going back to London. Soon. Happy now?

He left his phone on the kitchen counter and shook his head. This wasn't the text conversation he should be having about Claire. But if it would keep Jenny from busting his balls of all days, he'd play along just to pacify her. He slipped into the bedroom, and when he saw Claire still asleep, he decided to have a shave and shower.

After he was done, he walked into the bedroom and noticed the bed was already made. He searched for Claire, humming under his breath and planning what breakfast he should prepare.

"Sassenach?" he called out.

No answer.

She probably went back to her cottage to get a change of clothes, he thought.

He shrugged and went ahead and prepared breakfast, singing along to the song playing on the radio. All I Want For Christmas Is You.

Dear Readers,

Thanking you all for reading and leaving your feedback on the previous chapter. Very much appreciated. It's crunch time now with my writing and preparation for Christmas, but thank God, I'm still on track.

Anyway, I hope this story has given you Christmas joy so far and looking forward to reading what you thought of my latest update. Sending you best wishes and positive vibes. Take care of yourselves and until next time, much love. x

#melodyheart #all I want for christmas is you #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

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jesangel1503 · 4 years ago

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30 Day Challenge:Day 3 Topic

LET´S TALK ABOUT FRIENDSHIP

I can see this is a quite interesting but a bit sensitive topic for me. I just needed a time off to clear my mind so I can be able to cogitate on this familiar topic for everyone.

Let´s go straight to some few facts about friendship? Where did this word even came from?

So I browsed in and found out that friendship is a word of Germanic origin has existed in the English language since its founding in Old English. Back then, ‘friend’ existed as ‘frond’ which was the present participle of the verb fron, ‘to love’. The root of the verb was ‘fr-’ which meant ‘to like, love, or be affectionate to’. We can still see the remnants of this verb every day of the week- Friday or ‘day of Frigg’ is devoted to the Germanic goddess of love Frigg.

Source: whitesmoke.com

So much for it´s root word, let´s do some more researching. Many famous people have shared their thoughts about what friendship is for them. Now, maybe we can get some friendspiration from them!

Helen Keller

"I would rather walk with a friend in the dark, than alone in the light."

J.K. Rowling

"It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends."

Abraham Lincoln

"Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?"

Eleanor Roosevelt

"Many people will walk in and out of your life, but only true friends will leave footprints in your heart"

Bob Marley

“The truth is, everyone is going to hurt you. You just got to find the ones worth suffering for”

William Shakespeare

“A friend is one that knows you as you are, understands where you have been, accepts what you have become, and still, gently allows you to grow.”

Jennifer Lawrence

‘‘No matter how tired I am, I get dinner at least once a week with my girlfriends. Or have a sleepover. Otherwise my life is just all work.”

Marilyn Monroe

“Experts on romance say for a happy marriage there has to be more than a passionate love. For a lasting union, they insist, there must be a genuine liking for each other. Which, in my book, is a good definition for friendship.”

Drew Barrymore

“What’s helped me is having really good friends I know I can rely on. Cameron Diaz is one of the greatest friends anyone can ever have. She has so much love to give.”

Selena Gomez

“Every single problem I ever have is healable by Taylor Swift. If I ever I have an issue, Taylor has gone through it – she gives the most thought-out answers. And what I love about Taylor is that she does believe in the whole love story and Prince Charming and soul mates. Because of her, I haven’t lost faith.”

Emma Watson

“My two best girlfriends are from secondary school. I don’t have to explain anything to them. I don’t have to apologise for anything. They know.”

Jennifer Aniston

“We come from homes far from perfect, so you end up almost parent and sibling to your friends – your own chosen family. There’s nothing like a really loyal, dependable, good friend. Nothing.”

Oprah Winfrey

“Lots of people want to ride with you in the limo, but what you want is someone who will take the bus with you when the limo breaks down.”

Ariana Grande

“The best part about having true friends is that you can go months without seeing them and they’ll still be there for you and act as if you’d never left!.”

Whew, they are really inspiring isn��t it? But lemme give you bits of how I view and value friendship. So I´d like to answer some of these challenging questions I have found and that maybe can help me dig in to what´s really coming to my mind about this topic. As you read along, you are free to answer on your own and find out? Well, this is a writing therapy for me. I thought it might be nice to put my thoughts into writing and share it with you ( Well, only if you are interested to do so) But yes, this is entirely my thoughts. Some of you might disagree about my answers and what I have been writing in this little writing space of mine, but I don´t really care! As I have said, this is my therapy. If you judge me based on my thoughts, it´s totally on you and if that amuses you, well IT WILL BE MY PLEASURE :)

QUESTIONS ABOUT FRIENDSHIP

Can you describe one of your closest friends.

It´s so hard to choose which one of them that I particularly should talk about. All of them are special to me in their unique ways. But let me describe you one of my bestfriends, whom I met when I was an aupair in the first town I lived in here in Denmark. It´s funny though because this friend of mine, came to me by fate and the first time we met, we just click, you know. Like she´s that angel from heaven, who´ve brought me and would bribed me with food to keep me from not ditching school, because for her, it would be boring without me, and that she’d prefer me than the other filipino ones at the school. She would just call me and say, “Hey, wake up and get dressed. We´re off to school,and ahh uh don´t even say a word because I am already here, parked outside your house waiting for you. And, I´ve brought us Dinuguan and Pancit for lunch! Hurry!”.. So hard to refuse right? Oh yes, she is that kind. There are no other negative feeling around her, around us everytime we were together. We got along well so fast even at the very first day we´ve met. Since then, we hang out a lot. Sometimes cutting classes and going off to the second hand shop in town together or hit the mall, or just eat out in our favorite eat all you can Asian Restaurant. It´s just pure and honest friendship. I could sense she feels the same way too. It was never hard to be myself when I am with her. You know that feeling where you can´t feel any insecurities at all and you don´t feel that you are judged whenever you are sharing sensitive moments with her. I could say that is one of those few and rare friendship I have that I truly treasure the most.

Do you have any childhood friendships that are still strong today? Tell us about them.

I have a childhood bestfriend, and we have shared plenty of childhood memories together. I have been born in a family with no sisters so she is like a sister to me. Back then, she was living with her family in a house just a few walks from our house. I always spend time with her at their place when my parents were not home from work and she would come for a sleepover at our house during some of the weekends.. During my trip home last 2017, we were able to spend time together for a week. And still it´s as if things between us haven´t changed at all. She is still that friend who turned into family, and we assured each other that we we´re still gonna have each other´s back no matter what. Up until now, we´re still able to catch up, though I could say only through online. We both think we´re okay with the LDR thing. Haha!

Do you have any long distance friends?

I have, in fact, so many of them! As I reside now in Denmark, so the only communication we have is the internet. The first one I talked about she lives in the UK and my childhood friend lives in the Philippines. Most of my other closest friends are residing in the Philippines, UK, US, Australia, Canada, Japan and a few ones in the Middle East.

Do you think it is a good idea to borrow money from a friend? Why or why not?

This is a quite sensitive topic for me. But I do have views regarding friends and money matters. You know, in my entire life, I have tried to avoid situations involving friendship and money. I just don´t. I mean, I cherish people so much, and to ruin a relationship and lose a cherished friend because of money issues is a bit awful for me. I’d rather NOT. Just NO. 🙏🏻

Do you make friends easily?

I can make friends easily. And I do have a loud mouth. I am so excited to meet new people and talk with random people on the street and just smile and say hi. For me, it´s a bit of heartwarming when people comes to you, say hi, talk to you and get excited to know you. So I often think people would also want that. But given the fact that many people are too reserved, I also know my boundaries. It´s only when I feel like people would also wanna chat. I mean, like saying hi to the old lady beside me in a bus full of busy people. It could be lonely to be old, I think. Not many people are interested in talking to them. A few old people I met and talked with, they were all excited and thrilled to talked with me about their day, about their lives and jobs before and what life meant for them. For me, they have seen a lot and experienced a lot from all those years living in this world. It´s just compelling to learn from them!

Has a friend ever let you down?

I have experienced it many times. But based from it, I always try my best to understand them and listen to them more. Humans as we are, we often make mistakes. And that includes letting a friend down. May it be a small or a big deal, but friends that are meant to last, are the friends, who still thinks of how to mend things up than to make things worst. So a friend´s apology and forgiveness is always the best ingredients to make things last.

If the trust was broken, and there is no way you can bring back what you both have had before. I just let go and pray for them. In life you will learn who you should trust and it´s always gonna be the ones who will still be there for you despite the odds. You will learn a lot by gaining and losing friends.

Have you made any friends over the Internet?

I do have a plenty of them, with a few true ones though. But I do treat them as rare jewels that have helped me with my sanity being away from my family. I find it peculiar at first, but I have developed such strong bonds online, to take note that we haven´t even met yet! How cool is that!? Knowing and learning from a person you never met, sharing various experiences, thoughts, opinions are quite an overwhelming experience. When you get to know someone online, whom you can confide feelings to especially the things you can never share with anyone from your family or friends personally, was such a great help for me. During my first few months in Denmark, I have suffered a lot from a breakup plus the difficult adjustment phase I was going through by then. Living in a foreign country was quite a challenge for me. Even though I have my cousins and some few friends, but it was not enough by then. Because at the end of a tiring day, alone in a room, it was nice and comforting to have some people online, listening to your rants and cheering you up and helping you get your mind off the negativity and mind bugging thoughts and worries. I could say they are the ones I´d like to keep and hoping I can personally meet some of them someday too!

How do you maintain a good friendship?

I always make time to let them know that I still think and care about them. And of course, to never ever forget each of their special occassions!

How many people do you consider your "best friends?"

4 bestfriends; One is a bestfriend from my childhood years, one bestfriend from highschool, another one from college, one bestfriend whom I met in Denmark. 4 online bestfriends, one of which I already met.

What is a best friend?

For me, a best friend is a special connection between 2 people, where there is mutual understanding of each other, where there is a bond of trust, openness, willingness to care and look out for one another, despite the distance and circumstances. Where two people feel there is no need pretending, where they can both be themselves when they are together and where two people thinks of each other as their own PERSON to run to, and be comfortable with.

What is the longest friendship that you have had?

My childhood friend; we have been friends since we were so little. So maybe that´s what you call a friend for a lifetime.

What qualities do you think are important in a friend?

When you don´t get judged by the person and when they don´t talk negative things behind you and without you knowing.

What things should friends never do?

For me, I don´t like to compare myself with my friends. They have their own skills, talents, and own beautiful and unique lives. So maybe that is what a friend should watch out for. Insecurity and jealousy are both destructive in so many ways. Just be happy for a friend´s success and achievements.

Do you think it is possible to have a best friend of the opposite sex without becoming a girlfriend or boyfriend?

Oh, I do have a lot of friends from the opposite sex. I do happen to have one really close to me, so from a certain time, we were calling ourselves bessies. But, it did not last long. We both have jealous partners by then, so to respect each others partners, we agreed to have boundaries and thus avoiding conflicts as much as possible.

I also often get cringey whenever a male friend of mine that´s close to me, then we´ve had our bond, and then he gets a girlfriend, and i often get jealous, but not that I have feelings for the guy, but as a female friend, I just get jealous and often felt bad about lack of attention from him afterwards. So I tend to not get too close with male friends because I know it will just turn me nuts! But I am improving myself to just be understanding and to wish all the best for them! It is the best thing I could maybe offer to a close male friend of mine if ever.

Do you think it would be possible for you still be friends with an ex-boyfriend or ex-girlfriend?

Of course, but only if all issues were resolved. So it´s totally okay and possible for me to still be friends with my exes. I mean, they were also a part of my life and we´ve shared some good memories together too! I am teaching myself not to be bitter with the past you know. It´s good not to hold grudge on anyone especially when they were once the people you cared most and loved you as well.

Do you believe your parents should be your friends?

My parents are my friends. And so as my brother. It´s been like that in my family. It always feel better when they are ones comforting you than anybody else.

What do you like best about your best friend(s)?

They are still there for me, even if they are far away, and if I see them again, it´s still gonna be the same, no insecurities, no pretendings and no negativity.

What are some ways your best friend has influenced your life in a positive way?

One of my bestfriend´s view about God inspired me the most. We have the same thoughts and often go late to sleep talking about a lot of stuff about life and religion. That means a lot to me.

What do you do when you have a misunderstanding with your friend?

If it was my fault, I often offer an apology. And if it´s the other way around, I always show that I can listen and try my best to understand their reason and forgive if necessary.

What type of people do you get along with best?

I don´t prefer any types actually. I just sync in with them. I think when people are meant to have a lasting impression on you, they just do. Because I think the universe conspires the people whom you will meet. Some will come and stay, some will just go and maybe leave something for you to learn. So for me, I just blend in when someone comes along and get on with the flow. I always follow the positivity flow. If i can sense a negative vibe, I tend to not fully entrust myself. Though I give many chances to people, for I always believe that sometimes the people I met and how they are, if they mean or like that negative, is because of what they have been going through in life. May it be a bad experience or a childhood trauma. We should always shed light to these people and give room for them to be understood.

What quality do you admire most in people and which one do you find the most objectionable?

If I happen to met someone who´s mind is just as beautiful as their face or personality, and then it´s just natural for us to have a good conversation in a way that´s not awkward and trying hard. Then it´s my type of person.. I don´t care if we have different views, I am bound to respect all of them. It´s just when a person knows how to choose the right words and right thoughts in that certain moment, then I am going to be rooting for that person.

Tbh, I don´t fancy people who praises themselves a lot and think that they are always right all the time. And also, even when in an argument, no matter how big or small the issue, it´s always the tone of voice that matters to me the most. How you say something affects what you say.

Is getting along with others a natural ability from birth or does it have to be learnt?

For me, getting along with others is a continuing learning process. I mean up to now, I am still learning and developing my skills every day because I love to keep people who are worth keeping. And I believe there is no such skill that one can be born with a natural talent for getting along with others. It must also first be taught at home. The family is the necessary factor to develop one´s values of friendship and we will just continue to learn more and hone it as we venture out into the big world.

How important is forgiveness in human relationships?

I have been taught that it is an essential thing for us to grow and be matured. Forgiving is accepting one´s offering of peace and understanding that he or she have made a mistake and is willing to make up for it. And so as asking for forgiveness. We often commit mistakes and hurt people, that´s how human we are. So it´s important to lower one´s pride and ask for forgiveness, no matter how hard it may be. Accepting one´s own mistakes is an act of maturity, and i can say it´s also not easy but it´s necessary for human´s social growth and behavioural adaptability in the society.

Do you tell your best friend everything?

It´s funny because each of my bestfriends have their own unique qualities; one is better at the whole education and knowledge thing, other one is good at the practical thing and wise things, the other one I can confide some sexual issues and other emotional things and one I can have a good conversation about God and life. So basically, I don´t tell everything to each one of them but I go to one where I need their expertise and where they can also relate from.

Where is a good place to meet a new boyfriend/girlfriend?

I don´t think there is such a good place to meet a new bf or gf. It will just come to you as if the universe worked on it so he or she will get to where you are and bump into you. You just need to be patient. And if there is no one, just be your own gf or bf. What´s important is you love yourself and happiness is from, within you. You can still be happy without someone. You just need to unleash that thought in your mind often.

So much for this friendship thing, I hope I don´t bore you too much. Well, write to me if ever you have other thoughts about what I wrote! Ciao!

#friendship

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eeveedel · 5 years ago

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Hi all, I haven’t recced some fics in awhile but...today is fic writers appreciation day! And there are so many fics that I love so very much and have brought so much happiness into my life.

And it just so happens I have a personal document where i’ve kept track of fics I’ve read for the past 3-4 years, categorized by tropes. So I thought it would be fun to rec you my all-time favorite fic from each of my personal categories! There are so many good fics so I hope you enjoy. And if you want a full fic rec list for any of these categories, please tell me!

And a big thank you again to all of the lovely authors out there, I hope you have a lovely day and now how valued your work is.

A/B/O

Sisterwives by jaerie

This was it, the moment Louis had been waiting for his entire life. Giddy excitement bubbled up as he held hands and stared up at his soon-to-be alpha and husband and grinned. The ceremony was small and simple, but Louis didn’t mind. Fresh flowers pinned into his hair and a brand new outfit was all he needed to feel special in front of their few witnesses. It was just some members of his family and a few of the church elders in attendance as was customary for any marriage beyond the first wife within the faith.

First wives were the ones to have elaborate weddings with the whole community involved. An alpha’s first wedding was a celebration of an their coming of age, his first steps into fulfilling God’s prophecy. There were many glories for an omega that came with being a first wife but also many responsibilities. Louis had never aspired to be a first wife or even a second. He wasn’t experienced enough to be the leader of an alpha’s many wives and children and he didn’t think he’d be up to the task.

Louis was just fine in the position he was stepping into as the seventh.

Or Louis thinks he's getting everything he's ever dreamed of. Harry helps him find what makes him truly happy.

Action/Adventure

The Dead of July by whimsicule

Harry is Captain America, and Louis’ been dead for 70 years.

Age Gap

White Pages, White Lace, Big Hands, Pretty Face by thechesirepussycat

“He touches his sides, his neck, his lips, all the places Harry has just been, all the places that still tingle from Harry’s touch. Such a strange feeling Louis has, so unreal and nerve-racking. He can’t begin to describe what Harry has done to him, what about Harry makes Louis want to call him… Daddy.“

Or, a gratuitous Sugar Daddy!Harry and Student!Louis AU.

Angst

Bot by tomlinsunshine (11k)

Zayn builds robots; Harry is a big fan of his latest model.

Break Up

got the sunshine on my shoulders by hattalove

five years ago, harry styles left his tiny home town to make it big as a recording artist. he didn't have much regard for what he left behind - a life, a family, and a husband, who woke up one morning to find him gone.

now, harry has everything he could possibly want: he's rich, famous, and adored by everyone he meets, including his boyfriend. but when said boyfriend proposes to him, he's forced to face the uncomfortable facts of his past - and louis, who's spent the last five years returning every set of divorce papers harry sent him.

(or, an au based on the movie sweet home alabama.)

Canon

nonstop earthquake dreams of you by lumineres

And there's heat behind it, blazing, plasmatic, like stars crashing together, like an explosion in space, like a supernova, like a black hole--everything else sucked out of existence. There's no bed and there's no pillow and they're not lying down, just floating somewhere, somehow, and there's no room and there's no X Factor house and there's no Niall snuffling or Liam's deep, even breathing and there's no wind or traffic outside and there's no hum of the heating unit and it's all just Louis. All encompassingly Louis.

or, harry falls hard and finds louis already at the bottom

Classics

Love Is A Rebellious Bird by 100percentsassy and gloria_andrews

AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.

College/Uni

Could be Kissing My Fruit Punch Lips by thechesirepussycat

Harry happens upon a porn site that specializes in live videos and sort of falls in love with the cute boy he only knows as Kitty.

And then he gets the surprise of his life when he finds out Kitty attends his university...

Crime

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night by haroldslouis

1997 AU where Harry is a bank robber and Louis falls in love with him

Dom/Sub

No Control Club series by SadaVeniren

Harry, a popular BDSM blogger, writes a negative review about Louis’ club. Louis wants to have a chance to make it up to him.

Dunkirk/Alex

Poison & Wine by tilthesundies

Alex comes home from the war to find a stranger living in his flat.

Dystopian/Apocalypse

things have gotten closer to the sun by starseas

when a solar flare is announced to end the world in twelve days, harry reunites with the people that he used to know better than the back of his own hand.

Enemies to Lovers

you flower, you feast by stylinsoncity

He's King of the Underworld, but don't assume Louis has it all. He could stand for some excitement in his monotonous, eternal life and maybe, even.....a soulmate.

(Despite not having a soul.)

And along came "Harry"

Established Relationship

I Only Ever Want You by itsmiz

Louis and Harry's relationship goes through a series of changes while Liam and Zayn discover new things about themselves, as well.

Or: Louis & Harry and Liam & Zayn begin to have sex in front of each other and a lot of kink-discovery results from that.

Fairy Tale

Red by frosteddream

Shockwaves were sent through the village after the McPherson family was savagely killed. There were people who feared the beast that did it, and then there was Louis, or, as most people liked to call him, Red. (Little Red Riding Hood AU.)

Fake Dating

And Then a Bit by infinitelymint

Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.

Famous (non-1D AU)

a million roses (bathed in rock n roll) by deLILah

au. harry sings in smoky dive bars; louis misses his flight home. they go to coney island in the morning.

(aka - harry is lana del rey, and louis makes him a star.)

Fashion

Just my style by thoughtsickles

Harry is sick, and the only thing that might help him is the pheromones from his mate--problem is, he hasn't got a mate.

Louis' just been disowned, and taking part in a medical study where he has to cuddle with some strange alpha seems to be his only option for earning a bit of cash.

The hippies and Omega Rights campaigners are busy changing the world--but all Harry wants is a chance to live.

Fluff

Dreaming of You by velvetoscar

The Begrudging Starbucks AU.

The world is winter and steamed milk and creamy espresso shots. The world is a never ending queue. The world is a Starbucks logo and a pink-cheeked smile from Niall and a bored scowl from Zayn and the world is Louis watching his best mate, Liam, fall in love with their newest customer, Harry. Who may or may not be in love with Louis. The world is cruel.

Frat

Soft Feet, Fast Hands, Can’t Lose by dolce_piccante

American Uni AU. Harry Styles is a frat boy football star from the wealthy Styles Family athletic dynasty. A celebrity among football fans, he knows how to play, he knows how to party, and he knows how to fuck (all of which is well known among his legion of admirers).

Louis Tomlinson is a student and an athlete, but his similarities to Harry end there. Intelligent, focused, independent, and completely uninterested in Harry’s charms, Louis is an anomaly in a world ruled by football.

A bet about the pair, who might be more similar than they originally thought, brings them together. Shakespeare, ballet, Disney, football, library chats, running, accidental spooning, Daredevil and Domino’s Pizza all blend into one big friendship Frappucino, but who will win in the end?

Friends to Lovers

OmegaVision by jaerie

Tomlin Networks Presents: OmegaVision starring Louis Tomlinson! The world's first 24/7 reality channel available in over 150 countries worldwide following the life of the first male omega born in over a century. Follow Louis through his daily routine, the ups and downs of growing up or just leave him on for comfort. There are many reasons to tune in but, no matter what yours may be, there's always a part of Louis that is just like you!

Or a Truman Show au that nobody asked for where Louis is Truman and Harry just wants to be his mate

Girl Direction

Never Enough by idekboo

Louis couldn't get enough of Harry and that gorgeous body of hers. She wasn't shy about letting her know.

High School

I found a love (darling just dive right in) by wonderlou

Louis, an omega with very little control. Harry, an alpha with a lot of emotion. Neither of them have any idea what do to with this little thing called love, but they'll be damned if they don't put up a good fight.

Historical

Coax the Cold by MediaWhore

England, 1897.

English Professor Louis Tomlinson’s passion for the occult has been a source of mockery and derision for most of his life. When he hears whispers of a travelling freak show newly established in London claiming the existence of a monstrous sea hybrid, half-man, half-fish, Louis sees it as his ticket to credibility amongst his peers. The summer he spends undercover working on the show, however, gives him much more than that.

Miscellaneous/Unique

the impossible now by stylinsoncity

A wish on Christmas Eve sends Louis to an alternate dimension where Harry is a member of One Direction.

Mpreg

The Things I’d Do to Wake Up Next to You by dirtymattress (36k)

Harry wakes up to a pregnant Louis Tomlinson and a wedding band on his finger.

Mythology

Say Hallelujah, Say Goodnight by alivingfire

Louis is an angel who is just a little too bad to be good, Harry is a demon who is just a little too good to be bad, and they're both a little too in love to be impartial when angels and demons go to war.

PWP

mr. tomlinson by iwillpaintasongforlou

Louis is a billionaire CEO who makes grown men cry and rival companies crumble. He's also an omega. Harry is the quiet cupcake of a man he calls his alpha and the only one who gets to see Louis as anything less than fearsome.

Roommates

streetwise hercules by bottomlinsons

Uni AU, where Louis pretends to be Harry's boyfriend to scare away his one night stands.

Royalty

feel the chemicals burn in my bloodstream by togetherwecouldbealright

Harry is a journalist with a lot of secrets and Louis is the future king of the United Kingdom; they live together for 60 days.

Spies

never gonna dance again by togetherwecouldbealright

Louis is a spy and Harry is a dancer. The only real thing they know is each other.

Soulmates

Nameless Night by green_feelings

For their 18th birthday, every person receives a letter that reads a simple date. That is the date you'll meet your soulmate.

Harry and Louis have different beliefs, live in different worlds and have different dreams, hopes and fears. Yet, they're not so different from each other when it comes to love. When their paths cross, there is no doubt they belong together. Except for that one, essential difference: they didn't receive the same date.

Or, a fic about differences that make no difference at all: Harry and Louis are soulmates. In every way possible. Featuring Niall as a role model, and Liam and Zayn as a different kind of role models.

Summer Romance

Rivers til I Reach You by embodied

AU. Louis studies astronomy; Harry studies Louis. They spend their summers on the water and it shouldn't be complicated (spoiler: it is).

Supernatural

Howls Like a Beast (You Flower, You Feast) by indiaalaphawhiskey (16k)

France, 1754. Château de Versailles.

“You don’t love me,” Louis had said, utterly blasé as he callously fractured the heart of a Harry that was just barely eighteen.

“I do,” Harry had insisted pleadingly, green eyes already watering.

Louis had rolled his eyes, exasperated and flippant in the way only beautiful, young boys could be when faced with the affections of a baby prince. He had run his finger down Harry’s cheek then, had forced him to look into his eyes as he delivered the final blow.

“You’ll change your mind once you’ve seen more of the world,” Louis had teased, pressing a brutally delicate kiss onto Harry’s lovely, pure cheek. “Once you’ve been properly defiled.” He had whispered filthily, delighted by the gasp he heard, the frantic pink blush that had rested high on Harry’s cheeks, the power he had felt at knowing he could make the Crown Prince squirm.

#larry fic rec #larry fanfiction #larry fan fic #god tier fic recs

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kasdeyathebitterwoman · 5 years ago

Text

Running Mate - Part 12

Okay, so....here’s part 12....please don’t hate me! I know I promised I’d keep the angst to a minimum, but the story kind of just wrote itself and....well....I can tell you that I’ve already started Part 13 so you won’t have to wait long for an answer....I love you, please don’t hate me! 😂

Adult Content, 18+, NSFW

Word Count: 3,844

CW: confrontation, mention of cheating, un-protected sex, penetration, oral sex

taglist:

@maeleeme @andyrazzledazzle @oddsnendsfanfics @fanfictionaddiction99 @jhenno2002 @mitzwinchester @xceafh @henrycavillluv32 @severuined @queenslandlover-93 @thummbelina @chamomilebottom @deep-in-my-thoughts13 @henryslilprincess @constip8merm8

After your conversation with Kyle, you made the decision to listen to him - and your gut. It was the right decision because Henry turned out to be the man you wanted and needed. More than once, outsiders attempted to tear apart your relationship with Henry, but the two of you stood strong.

Less than a month after your return from Peru, there were multiple stories stating that Henry was back with Lucy. Several fan sites shared “sources” that proved the two were back together. Many had cellphone footage of the two of them sharing scenes while filming in Arizona. Thanks to your family and friends, you were able to let all of this roll off of your back. It also helped that Henry made a point to video chat with you once a week.

“You do realize we didn’t even do this when you were filming The Witcher?” you state one Sunday morning a few weeks after he’d left. It was after 10 in the morning for you, which meant it was after 6 in the evening where Henry was.

“I know and I’m trying to change, y/n,” Henry replied. “It’s this crazy thing people do when they love someone and they want them to feel comfortable in their relationship,” he states, giving you a smug smile. You squint at him.

“Is it though?” you ask, in a high-pitched, squeaky voice. Henry squints back, his mouth twitching with all the sarcastic things you want to say. You giggle at his attempts to remain composed.

“You are such a little minx,” Henry mutters through clenched teeth, chuckling as you continue to giggle. “God, I miss your smile,” he groans so you smile broadly at him through the camera. Even through Henry’s laptop microphone, you can hear Kal growling at something outside the trailer. Henry shushes him and the little moment pulls at your heart strings.

“I miss you as well,” you sigh. Henry turns his attention back to the camera, his features softened a little after your statement. “It’s too quiet around here,” you state. As you say that, the washing machine dings loudly in the other room. “Actually, give me one second sugar. I need to move my laundry,” you stand up and dart over to the washing machine. Quickly, you move your clothes then saunter back to the dining room table where your computer is set up.

“Y/n?” Henry questions as you are sitting back down. “What are you wearing?” he ask. You glance down at the teal hoodie that Henry left behind, then smile back up at him.

“A hoodie,” you say brightly with another broad smile. Henry chuckles.

“And?” he pushes.

“A hoodie,” you repeat, smiling devilishly. Henry’s lips are pursed and they twitch ever so slightly.

“You mean to tell me, we’ve been having a video chat for the last twenty minutes and I am only just now finding out you are partially naked?” he asks. You bite down on your bottom lip. “Not only that, you are wearing my hoodie,” he adds, taking a closer inspection. You grin goofily at him.

“Yes, but, there is a reason,” you say and Henry heartily chuckles.

“Oh, please tell me, because I’d love to hear this,” he says with a sly smile. You cock your head to the side and squint at him.

“Okay, going to ignore the ‘tude for a moment,” you say, clicking your tongue. Henry laughs and his shoulders shake. “So the reason is, really, I’m just trying to help you,” you say quickly. Henry raises his eyebrows and laughs short and quickly.

“You’re helping me?”

“As a matter of fact, I am,” you assert. “See, I remember you saying that when you’re away, the AC is off at your place. Since I’m here now, it means it won’t be off all the time, costing you money,” Henry chuckles and a soft smile lingers on his lips. “So I’m keeping it off for the most part, despite the fact that it’s been incredibly hot here in London,” you stop and watch Henry. He’s got his chin resting in the palm of one hand, watching you.

“Please go on, I’m absolutely riveted,” he says dryly.

“Again, ignoring the ‘tude,” you continue. “Long story short, the AC has been off in the house and I have been wearing a limited wardrobe,” you tell him. Henry’s eyebrows raise.

“Limited wardrobe?” he repeats. Your mouth twitches with a smile you are trying hard to hide. “Let me get this straight. While I’ve been away, you’ve been walking around the house in my hoodies and shorts,” he declares. You suck in your bottom lip.

“My friend, you are greatly overstating what I meant by limited wardrobe,” you reply. Then you sit back and watch as his expression changes from confusion to understanding. His mouth opens and closes a few times before he speaks.

“So why are you wearing my hoodie then?” he asks desperately.

“I got cold,” you explain slowly and quietly. Henry stares at you for a brief moment before a wide grin breaks out across his face and loud, hearty laughter fills the air. You watch as his whole body shakes from laughter. You join him, feeling the tears fall down your face as you attempt to wipe them away while you giggle. After a moment, Henry calms down, smiling wide and goofy and wiping the tears away from his eyes.

“Oh my god, I’m never turning the AC on ever again,” he mutters as another fit of giggles takes over him.

“Between your body hair and Kal’s, you’ll barely make it a day,” you reply and Henry rolls his eyes at you.

“You think I don’t know how to handle extreme temperatures?”

“Oh, don’t play the Mission Impossible card! It’s old and tired,” you retort. Henry scoffs and proceeds to talk over you so it ends up just being the two of you talking loudly at each other through your cameras. It all ends in another fit of giggles while Henry watches you with a loving look.

“Fuck, I miss being able to kiss you whenever I want,” he says suddenly, having calmed down. You smile sweetly at him.

“I miss you too, sugar,” you say to him. He smiles back, sighing. “How much longer will you be in Arizona?”

“A few more weeks,” he replies, sighing. The two of you talk a little while longer before you tell him you have to get back to work. The next several weeks, you fall into a routine. You spend as much time as possible working on research and development for your documentary with Callie, Peter and the rest of the team at National Geographic. James sends you extra work for his new project, so that keeps you busy as well.

Eventually, the weeks do pass and Henry is on the return trip from the states. The morning of he and Kal are supposed to be back, you wake up early and clean the place up. Half way through, you get a text from Henry saying there was a delay with the flight and he’ll be back later than expected. Though it saddens you, you tell him no worries and continue cleaning. Since you have extra time, you head into the office to help Callie with some technical issues. She called you in hysterics because her research files went missing. Turns out, they got saved in the wrong folder, which then got deleted.

Back at the house, you are at your desk working on edits when the front door bursts open. Henry and Kal come clamoring in. He doesn’t see you at first, but when he turns around, he stops in his tracks.

“Hey sugar,” you croon, standing up from the table. Henry drops the bag he’s hold and makes a beeline for you. Your grunt is muffled as he wraps you up in his beefy arms. He squeezes you gently when your hands snake around his waist. After a moment, he loosens his hold on you so he can look down at you with those baby blues. His hands drop down to your hips and he sighs, taking you in.

“Hi,” he murmurs. A wide, goofy grin that you can’t stop breaks out across your face. Henry mirrors you and you can’t help from laughing as he leans down and kisses you. The kiss is obviously hungry as his tongue pushes past your lips, searching for yours. He moans softly into you as your hands slide up to his shoulders. A knock at the door breaks your concentration. You sigh and lean into him.

“Don’t answer it” you whisper.

“It’s probably my assistant, I have to,” he groans, though he doesn’t let go of you immediately. Only when there is another round of knocking does he reluctantly detangle himself from your embrace. You watch as he strides to the door, pauses, then opens it with a smile. As predicted, Leah was there with some forms that needed to be signed. You chatted with her about her relaxation plans now that Henry was back from the states. She tells you about her stay-cation ideas among other things. Once everything is signed and dated, Henry gently escorts her to the front door. You wave and call out goodbye to her as he closes to door, then he turns to face you. Quietly, you close the gap between you and him, placing your hands on his hips, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“I have to walk Kal,” he whispers. Your fingers skillfully tug open his belt.

“Then go walk him,”

“I will,”

“Mhmm,” you murmur. You look up at him and see him swallow hard. With one movement, Henry’s hands are on your hips, lifting you up. You wrap your legs around his thick waist and your hands snake through his hair. Your lips collide with his for an intense kiss that sends shivers down your spine. Holding you tightly against his body, Henry walks up the stairs to the bedroom. You kiss and nibble at his jaw line, smiling with every grunt and labored breath he pushes out of his nose. He lays you on the bed and immediately begins to tear at your jeans. He’s forceful and clumsy as his fingers rip apart the button and yank at the zipper. You laugh heartily as he grunts, pulling down hard from the top of your jeans.

Once they are off, his hands caress your hips and thighs. Then he leans down and begins kissing the warm skin just above your panty line. Your breath comes in shuddering waves as you sigh, realizing just how much you missed this man. Your fingers move through his hair. A loud gasp escapes from you when Henry nibbles ever so slightly on your inner thigh. The heat radiating from between your legs drives you forward. You push him up, sitting up as well and begin pulling at his pants. With a little more dexterity, you unhook the button, pull the zipper and help him as Henry begins to push his pants down. You can see him bulging through his boxer briefs. You bite your lip and glance up at his blue eyes. They are staring down at you intently. Suddenly, his large hands are on your small shoulders, pushing you down, pressing his lips firmly into yours. Together, you move away from the edge of the bed to the middle, with Henry’s weight on top of you. His hips rock into yours and a deep moan vibrates through your body. Henry’s fingers dig into the flesh of your hips, searching frantically for the line of your underwear. Once he has it, he yanks with determination, pulling them clean off on one side. Your hands haven’t been idle though. Sliding down his back, you push your hands up under his shirt. With his help, you pull it off of him, revealing his hard and chiseled body underneath.

Wasting no time, Henry pulls your shirt off as well. His briefs follow suit quickly with your underwear coming off immediately afterward. Without a word, Henry uses his knee to open your legs a little wider, then holding onto your hips, slowly he slides himself inside of you and sighs.

“Henry,” you gasp. Your toes curl into the mattress and your hips press up into his as you arch your back to allow him in further. You tip your head back, moaning, and Henry takes advantage of the moment. He leans down, kissing the exposed skin of your neck, causing you to moan louder. “Oh god, Henry,” you moan. You can feel every inch of him inside of you, opening you up and pushing against your walls. “Henry,” you whisper, pressing your lips into his ear. He groans, pushing deeper into you.

“I missed you,” Henry says breathlessly. “God, I missed you,” he grunts, thrusting his hips faster. You dig your nails into his shoulders, pulling them down his back. You can feel his tight muscles, coiled and shifting with every movement.

“Oh Henry,” you murmur. You nibble on his earlobe which causes Henry to groan deeply. His hips convulse and thrust into you with fervor. The two of you moan together as your hips slow his and find a rhythm with him. You rock with him for a moment, clutching the nape of his neck with one hand and his broad shoulder with the other. His lips are pressed firmly against the warm skin of your neck where his face is buried. The sensation of his breath in your ear makes your skin break out in goosebumps.

“I love you,” Henry murmurs low. He grunts as his hips rock into yours. You can feel him bulging inside of you with every thrust, but those three words bring you to the height of pleasure. “I love you, y/n,” he says. You gasp as he pushes deeper into you, his hips moving faster and more desperate. Your legs wrap around his waist as you hang on to him.

“I love you, Henry,” you gasp, breathlessly. “Say it again, please,” you beg. Your fingers dig into his shoulders and Henry grunts.

“I love you. I love you, baby,” he grunts. His hips slam into yours as he pushes further, harder, and deeper into you. You barely announce that you are coming, when Henry pushes himself up. He takes a firm hold of your hips and begins pounding into you. Your body reacts at the sensation as it every thrust sends waves of pure, unadulterated pleasure throughout your body.

“Fuck!” you scream, your back arching and your hands clawing at his. Henry’s grunts get louder and more desperate as he moves faster in and out of you. He groans as he feels your walls and your legs tighten around him. He watches with complete satisfaction as you climax under him. With a few final thrusts, he finishes as well and collapses half on and half off of you, breathing heavy and laboriously. You peer at him out of the corner of your eye. He’s looking at you through half closed eyes, smiling sleepily.

“You are,” he starts, pausing to suck in deep breaths.

“Beautiful, amazing, incredible,” you say for him, glancing at him sideways.

“Dangerous,” he states. You close your eyes and laugh heartily.

“Oh whatever,” you yell, playfully batting at his shoulder. He laughs, rolling onto his side and scooting closer to your body.

“Completely and utterly dangerous,” he leans down and begins leaving feather light kisses along your collarbone. You close your eyes and sigh.

“Mm, you’re one to talk,” you say, sucking in a breath as the stubble on Henry’s chin grazes your breast. “I’d say you’re the mayor of Danger City right about now,” Henry smiles and glances up at you. He keeps his eyes on yours as he leans down and places his lips gently on your nipple. Your eyes close involuntarily and you gasp.

“And I’m the dangerous one?” you question him. “There is no way you are ready to go again,” you add, opening your eyes and look down at his smiling face.

“I have not had your body within reach for four and a half months,” he murmurs, running his lips across your other nipple sending shivers throughout your body. “Yes, little minx, I am ready to go again,” then he takes your nipple in his mouth, circling the sensitive and tender skin with his tongue. You moan, pushing your chest up toward his mouth; a silent beg for him to continue. But his actions are interrupted by Kal’s sudden and frantic barking downstairs. You can hear him scrambling around on the hardwood floors down stairs.

“Damn,” Henry groans and you giggle. He gives you his trademarked raised eyebrow look. “Oh, you’re not getting out of this that easily, little minx,” he says, pushing himself up and off the bed. Then he grabs your wrist and pulls you up with him. The two of you get dressed and proceed to take Kal for a walk. He holds your hand firmly the whole time, keeping you close to him when you have to stop for Kal. Since you hadn’t planned for dinner, the three of you walk to a corner store nearby to pick up supplies. Henry requested that you make the lasagna again. That night, he takes his time running his lips over every inch of your body. The next morning you wake up to a flurry of kisses across your bare shoulders. When he realizes you’re awake, his hands begin to gently trace along your backside. Feeling feisty after the night before, you push him back down on to the mattress.

Tossing your leg over, you straddle his waist. With sleepy and a sleepy smile, you bend down and kiss him, feeling his arms wrap around you. You suck on that bottom lip that you love so much and watch as it sends him into a frenzy. Riding this wave, you let go of his lip and shimmy down his body. The satisfied sigh that shudders out of him when you take his whole length in your mouth makes you happy and you take your time. Henry tangles his fingers throughout your hair, moaning and gasping at the things your tongue does. You smile, content that you are able to make the man easily three times your size squirm with pleasure.

For the next week and a half, you’re never far from Henry’s touch. He finds any and every opportunity to run his fingers across any exposed skin he sees and you love it. Every morning you wake up in his arms and every night you fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. Every morning you sip coffee with him in the backyard and every night the two of you rediscover each other in every sense of the word. When you have to go into the office, he comes to take you out to lunch, even bringing Callie and Peter along as well. Two weeks after Henry was back, you made plans to see Callie.

“I’m heading out, sugar,” you say to him, throwing your bag over your shoulder.

“Where are you off to?” he asks.

“I told you yesterday. I’m heading to Callie’s for a movie night,” you tell him. He looks up at you with soft puppy dog eyes.

“Oh? What are you going to watch?”

“Some scary movie,” you tell him. “Either The Devil’s Rejects or House of A Thousand Corpses,” his eyebrows raise.

“I didn’t realize you were a Rob Zombie fan,” he says and you shrug.

“Eh, not really. I like psychological thrillers, but Callie’s obsessed and I picked the movie last time,” you explain. He smiles with understanding, then stands up to embrace you. He gives you a sweet kiss goodbye and watches you climb into an Uber and take off. At Callie’s you settle into her couch with a bowl of popcorn and your second glass of wine. She saunters in with her own bowl and glass explaining that she has changed her mind on what to watch. Pulling up Amazon Prime, she starts the one film film you truly weren’t expecting - Mission Impossible: Fallout. Quickly, you dive for your phone almost spilling the popcorn and text Henry. He replies with a laughing emoji and you send the wink and kiss emoji. Later, when the theme song begins to play, Callie films the two of you humming along and generally acting like idiots. You ask her to share the video with you. After you get it, you also send it to Henry, hoping it will make him smile. You and Callie spend the evening drinking and making silly commentary about the film. You talk about the cinematography while Callie discusses the importance of Henry’s mustache.

“It’s really quite critical for the role,” she says, clearly tipsy after her 3rd glass of wine. You giggle the whole time you listen to her, agreeing with most of her points. When the night is over, you make the trek back to your house. You are buzzed with joy and wine and smartly took an Uber there. So now you were in the back of another Uber, smiling to yourself as you remembered the hilarious commentary the two of you had throughout the film. Your phone buzzes with a message from Kyle.

Y/n, Marshall found this article a few days ago. He just showed me and I decided it should be someone you love that breaks this to you. Talk to Henry before you click the link.

You scrunch your face up as you read the text. Not fully understanding, you click the link to the article and immediately feel yourself growing cold. Your thumb scrolls through the words so they flash by without any context or meaning. You scroll to the bottom where the author claims they have pictures and that’s where you see it. Your mouth drops open and your heart stops beating for a moment.

“Ma’am,” a voice says. You’re brought back to reality; back to the back of the Uber. You realize the car is stopped because you have arrived back home.

“Thanks,” you mumble, stumbling out of the car. Buzzed and confused, you slowly make your way back inside. Henry is walking around the corner when you walk in.

“Hey, how was it?” he asks, smiling wide at you. You look up at him and immediately he knows something is wrong. “Y/n, what’s the matter?” he steps toward you, but you throw your hands up. He stops.

“Henry,” you start, your voice small. There are tears ready to fall, but you hold them back. “Did something happen between you and Lucy?” you ask. Henry’s face instantly contorts.

“What?”

"Did something happen while you were filming. With her - with Lucy?" You repeat, tripping over your words. You can't tell if it's the alcohol or the fear.

"No. What? No."

“Then why are there pictures of her kissing you online?”

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #one shot #writing series #running mate series #meowpurrbooks writing #writing #fanfiction #henrycavillxreader #henrycavillxfemmereader #female reader #femme reader

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go-events · 5 years ago

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GO Rom Com Spotlight: @ultrakahlannightwing

The inimitable @ultrakahlannightwing has claimed Crazy Stupid Love to adapt for Good Omens in the Good Omens Rom Com Event.

For reference, here’s a little background about the source material!

About Crazy Stupid Love: Cal Weaver (Steve Carell) is living the American dream. He has a good job, a beautiful house, great children and a beautiful wife, named Emily (Julianne Moore). Cal's seemingly perfect life unravels, however, when he learns that Emily has been unfaithful and wants a divorce. Over 40 and suddenly single, Cal is adrift in the fickle world of dating. Enter, Jacob Palmer (Ryan Gosling), a self-styled player who takes Cal under his wing and teaches him how to be a hit with the ladies.

We spent some time chatting about how the adaptation is coming so far, as well as future plans for it! Now, get to know @ultrakahlannightwing a little better!

* * *

goromcom: Of course, I opened a chat with you to see what tags Tumblr would say that you post about. It told me that you post about “#crowley and #good omens." Those tags show how solidly you're in the GO fandom...and is Crowley your secret favorite?

ultrakahlannightwing: Oh, I didn't know Tumblr did that! Honestly, it's no secret he's my fav! It took me a bit to realize why, but he screams the Trickster archetype, which I devotedly follow. Add the anger issues, the red hair, the gender-fluidity, the emotional constipation.... Crowley is definitely someone I relate to.

goromcom: You chose to adapt Crazy Stupid Love as your rom com. Has this film been a favorite of yours, or is there some other reason you chose it?

ultrakahlannightwing: I'd never watched it before. I went through the list, and there were a lot of favorites up, but this one spoke to me in that way I knew would inspire me to write it. I watched the trailer, read the premise, and went "I can make this gay". Just the trailer alone made me pause and go 'wait, is this gay?' It's not, sadly, and I think it missed a good opportunity there.

goromcom: That is SUPER BOLD of you, to choose one you hadn’t seen yet. I’m loving that SO MUCH!

Now that you’ve seen it, what's your favorite moment of Crazy Stupid Love, and are you looking forward to presenting it in your adaptation? Any loose plans for that scene that you can share?

ultrakahlannightwing: After watching the movie, my favorite part that really subverted the tropes was when Hannah "breaks" and they go back to Jacob's house. The whole scene is amazingly fond and fluffy while still being incredibly sexy and touching. There's a particular scene that me and my friend -- we just watched the movie together -- said had to be in the fic.

Spoilers for Crazy Stupid Love: Hannah asks what Jacob's best move is, and he admits that it's the dance scene where Patrick Swayze lifts up Frances into the air and then Frances slides down Patrick's body. They enacted this perfectly, and it was both adorable and then sexy. Writing that with Crowley and Aziraphzle is going to be epic! I hope I can capture the moment. end Spoilers.

goromcom: I also love that moment! It is actually what comes to mind when I think about that movie, and I think it was acted really well in the movie as well. I’m looking forward to seeing the GO version!

But other than an inclusion of your version of that scene, do you plan to stick very closely to the story beats of the original movie, or make bigger changes?

ultrakahlannightwing: Well, the movie has a bunch of cringe, including but not limited to: mentions of pedophilia, a 13 year old making uncomfortable advances on a 17 year old despite her telling him she's uncomfortable, and homophobia. My friend and I agreed it's a real rollercoaster of a movie that goes from touching and good scenes to pure cringe. While the original beat of the movie is about fighting for soul mates, I disliked that the male lead Cal was consistently treated as the bad guy, his wife never had to or did apologize for cheating on him, and the guy she cheated with was left out high and dry when he was actually a pretty nice dude. I honestly failed to see how they were soulmates and this wasn't just a normal story of a couple struggling when one of them cheats on the other. I'm leaving the cheating storyline to the side because resolving it is another fic I'd like to tackle with my own take that wouldn't fit in this story. Jacob is also so uncomfortable with his sexuality, which I think is sad given the potential for his character to have a good side here. Since Crowley is playing the part of Jacob, turning that discomfort into a genderfluid guy just trying to get his end off -- until he runs into Aziraphale -- is going to be thumbing my nose at the writer of this script.

goromcom: What's an interesting decision you've made in your planning so far--a notable casting decision, a changing of venue, or some other plan you have to paint Good Omens all over your rom com?

ultrakahlannightwing: In the original script, Cal's wife is called Tracy. Inspired by the fic Slow Show by @mia-ugly -- go read it -- Tracy is Aziraphale's wife here. Since it's Tracy, it was easy to come up with who she fell in love with, that she wouldn't cheat on Aziraphale, and that she'd actually treat him with gentle hands and respect. It was also easy for Aziraphale to show his dislike of Tracy's love, which made my friend cackle with glee. I'm also really loving writing a genderfluid Crowley. All of my fics so far with him have been male presenting, and this is the one where I'm breaking away from the script entirely to make sure it's very clear he's genderfluid.

goromcom: That sounds really true to Crowley, and an interesting and thoughtful break with the script. :)

I am blatantly stealing this last question from The Good Place: The Podcast, but here goes: Tell me something "good". It can be something big or small. It can be a charity you think is doing good work, or you can talk about how great your pet is.

ultrakahlannightwing: I'm getting married this October 31st! It's going to be a Star Wars themed wedding with my fiancee dressing up like Thrawn! We're going to have light sabers so we can play fight, and I have a beautiful venue for it! It's super stressful planning it out ourselves, but it's going to be something we won't forget, and that's the best part!

goromcom: That is super exciting! Congratulations and best wishes. You’re starting this new journey this year, what a wonderful thing to share with us. <3

Don’t forget to watch for the GO version of Crazy Stupid Love, coming to AO3 soon(ish).

#goromcom #good omens #goromcom spotlight #ultrakahlannightwing #crazy stupid love

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myownpersonaldemons · 5 years ago

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Selftober Prompt 31

First ‘I Love You’

Gaster/Reader

So! I asked you guys who you wanted this last prompt to be of, and @Theyaremorethanjustfictional said: I think gaster x reader would be cute! Keep up the great work!

(hell yeah thank you~!)

Also like...might make this a multichapter fic because??? I...want it explore what happens later? So it might become it’s own thing.

Again, none of these are edited, so! Enjoy~! The last prompt.

There were some things that are meant to be forgotten. Some things that we put effort into forgetting. Some things we only temporarily forget. Others that we think we forgot, but a simple nudge can reawaken even the most buried memories.

Unfortunately, you were wiped from the memories of your loved ones. Doomed to realize that you didn’t truly exist anymore. There was no trace of you anywhere. Well...that wasn’t true. Your things were there, and they sparked people’s feelings of ‘I forgot something’...but they could never truly remember who owned them.

You huffed out a sigh as you leaned back, lifting your feet from the floor and allowed yourself to float freely in the void.

You sighed into the void as another day passed you by. Or…you assumed it did? Because, well, you couldn’t tell? Everything was the same in the void. Black inkiness as far as your eyes could see! There was nothing here besides you. At least, that’s how it was for…however long it was that you had been trapped here. Sometimes you couldn’t remember why you were in the void.

Did it matter anymore? You were stuck.

Nothing mattered from before.

What was it...day 1825? Or was it 1826? At this point the only way you knew was when the space between the void and your previous universe thinned. Typically during a RESET, LOAD, or if that one monster leapt through too many shortcuts in a short amount of time. It granted you the ability to transverse the universe as if you were part of it again...well, you felt more like a ghost. Some people could see you, but most just had a vague sense of someone watching them.

Frisk was the one who saw you the most, and every time they tried to talk to you...but your voice came out garbled. The effect of the Void corrupting your body slowly.

Another sigh.

Then a louder one.

Then you let out a frustrated sigh, tugging your knees towards your chest and tugging lightly at your hair.

“WHY!!” you shouted to the void, letting out all your anger in the following scream. You really didn’t expect anything or anyone to answer you. For the past five years you had been alone, floating in the nothingness. Honestly, you were shocked you hadn’t gone insane by yourself yet.

“WHO ARE YOU?”

It startled you bad enough you knee’d yourself in the face. Stars flashed behind your eyelids as you curled up tighter and moaned. Then the fact that someone had spoken sunk in. The eagerness in your chest outweighed the small voice wondering if you should be scared of the fact that something had been in the void with you.

You twisted around in the void until you spotted a distorted figure watching you. It was mostly a large black goopy mass with two white skeletal hands with two large holes in the palms. It’s head was reminiscent of a skull, but...melted. One eye was drooping, and it’s mouth seemed permanently twisted into a grin that looked more like a painful grimace. Cracks ran from each eye socket which looked painful.

“Who are you?” you blurted out, shifting closer to it.

It didn’t occur to you that it could be dangerous.

If you died...well that would be it.

You didn’t really care.

“I ASKED YOU FIRST.HOW DID YOU COME INTO THE VOID WITHOUT SUFFICIENT MAGIC?” its voice seemed to be an odd mix between sound and hand gestures. If...a voice could be described that way. Honestly, you couldn’t even pick up whether it was feminine or masculine. It just was. Either way, you couldn’t understand what the monster was trying to say to you, and when you voiced it, the monster seemed to deflate slightly.

“Oh...mood,” you mumbled, “of course I’d finally meet the only other creature in this god-damned void and I can’t even understand ‘em.”

That had been your first encounter with the monster. Actually, you hadn’t really left each other’s presence since seeing each other. Time meant nothing in the void, and you rarely felt the urge to sleep anymore mostly doing it to past ‘time.’ Even if you couldn’t understand them, there was something comforting of knowing there was someone else to share in your agonizingly boring existence.

Of course, since there wasn’t much the two of you could do when the void was separate from universes; you started to list off words for them to repeat back to you. Starting off with ‘yes’ and ‘no’.

Eventually, you figured out that his gestures corresponded with letters, and after committing them to memory you realized it was faster to figure out what he was saying. If there was a word that you didn’t understand audibly, you could just look at his hands to see the word spelt out.

Gaster, as you soon found his name to be, was probably the best companion you could’ve asked for in the void. He was incredibly smart, and had a dry-witty sense of humor and could pop out puns like no bodies business.

“You know,” you said one day, choosing to float upside down. Or was he upside down? You couldn’t really tell in the void. There was no gravity or anything like that. “You remind me of a skeleton I knew back in the real world.”

“Sans or Papyrus?” Gaster asked calmly, and you nodded. Nothing...really surprised you anymore. Maybe you were just becoming numb to it all, but it could also be because you were becoming corrupted. You wondered if Gaster really felt anything anymore, or if he just made jokes and puns out of pure habit. Gaster was silent for a while before he made a noise of triumph. “Ah. I remember you.”

Your eyebrows shot up, “Really?”

“Of course. Whenever the fabric of reality is weakened, I would visit my sons. You frequented Grillby’s establishment, correct?” Gaster questioned, a hand reaching up to stroke at his chin lightly.

“Establishment? Old man...” you teased, grinning at him. He shot you a withered look. “But yeah. I...guess you could say I ‘frequented’ it.”

The vagueness was an instant attractant to Gaster, his gloopy form moved closer. “Could you elaborate?”

“If you’re asking if I had a relationship with Sans? Ha! No! He’s...a greasy, geeky gremlin...no offense or whatever,” you waved a hand.

“Oh no. That is a very accurate description of my son,” Gaster’s skull nodded, “It is a blessing you were not with my son. He does not need to lose a mate and a father to the void.��

Father? That...made sense actually. No one knew where the two skeletons had come from, even Grillby who said he...swears he knew the brothers for longer than he actually did. Just something telling him that he didn’t have the whole picture. If Gaster was their father, and he was erased by the Void like you? Well, then. It explained a lot.

“Were you mated to anyone?” Gaster asked, and then hummed quietly, and added, “Is that the term humans use for their relationships?”

“It’s not really...we’ve got a bunch of different terms,” you mumbled, but the original question? That made your chest ache, and you shifted into more of a curled ball so you weren’t looking at him anymore. “Not anymore.”

Silence met your answer, before disembodied hands patted your head and then your back gently collided with the goopy semi-solid form of Gaster. “I too lost my mate when I entered the Void.”

You huffed softly, and allowed him to shift you into more of an embrace. The gooey black goop probably would’ve triggered your ick factor if you had actually felt anything in the past five years. However, the moment you felt the touch of someone else? Your felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes. You twisted slightly so you could wrap your arms the best you could around his large misshapen form.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you held each other.

But there was nothing better to do.

“It is unfortunate that you are here, but...I must admit, I am glad you are,” Gaster spoke up after what seemed like forever of silence. You nodded against his chest.

“I’m glad you’re here too. The void wouldn’t be quite as goopy without you,” you teased, pulling away from him, watching as some of the goop clung to your arms. It dissipated quickly leaving you once again just as how you entered the void. Gaster’s eye lights rolled in their sockets, but his smile seemed to grow once again.

There was a shifting feeling that was so jarring and familiar. You twisted around attempting to find the door in the darkness. Gaster’s disembodied hand twisted your head towards the source and you made a cheerful noise. It was a bittersweet feeling every time you saw the Void allowing you temporarily to see your friends and family. See how they were doing.

In a blink of the eye you were at the door, twisting the handle, and pulling it open. There was no hesitation in your movements.

You were going to be able to see him again! You were giddy with excitement.

Another blink and you were standing in Grillby’s bar.

A hand landed on your shoulder, and you jerked in surprise.

“I apologize, I did not mean to startle you,” Gaster apologized, grinning down at you.

He...was different out of the void. He was more...put together? There was less goop at least. Taller too. But then again...you didn’t really ‘see’ his goop in the void, more like felt it. It was black like the rest of your surroundings. Here, he was slimmer than you thought he was, and it looked like the goop was more of a cloak about his shoulders instead of his complete form.

You wouldn’t really know unless you...y’know, stuck your hand into the goop, and you weren’t about to do that.

Or maybe you would.

Yeah. You would stick your hand in the goop once you were back in the void.

You had little shame anymore.

You’d totally ask first.

Regardless, there was more...pressing manners to deal with.

Your attention whipped around to see Grillby chatting it up with Sans at the bar. You appeared at his side and smiled warmly up at him. He looked the same. Five years...and he hadn’t changed. Even his glasses were still the same, even though he kept complaining that he needed new ones. You reached up and your fingers ghosted his jaw. His hand came up and gently scratched at the place you touched. The most anyone would notice you were there...a gentle annoyance that they’d absentmindedly scratch, rub, or brush.

“Ah,” Gaster’s voice interrupted your thoughts, and you glanced over at him. “This is curious.”

“What?” you grumped, leaning against the bar. There was only slight resistance to tell you that there was something there...but you could walk through it. It would be like walking through chest high water, but you could do it.

Gaster’s disembodied hands patted his sons head, and Sans reached up and rubbed at the top of his skull as he joked with Grillby. “We are...more connected than I thought.”

“How so?” you questioned, following along as Grillby headed down the bar to talk to the Guard Dogs who were ordering another round for the poker table.

“I was so worried that my son would have been left behind by both his father and a mate...but I did not consider another possibility. Which...I wholly blame on my mind not being as...” Gaster hesitated as if he was trying to find the right word, “present as it used to be. It seems as if we share a mate.”

You freeze, staring up at your fiery boyfriend.

That...

What?

“Grillby and I were...together, once upon a time. Back when I was still whole and not shattered across time and space,” Gaster clarified, making you realize you had voiced your question aloud instead of quietly like you had thought you did. You glanced over at Grillby and slumped slightly.

“So...he lost two mates to the void?” you whispered, as you followed Grillby back over behind the bar. Grillby sat down in the bar stool next to Sans. You saw the skeleton briefly glance over as if he had spotted someone sitting down, but you and Gaster both knew he couldn’t actually see either of them. No one could.

Well, Frisk could sometimes see you, and every time that happened you cried and they reached out and patted your head in comfort. They would sign at you, but you had never learned before you entered the void as foolish as that seemed now.

“Thankfully, I do not believe Grillby knows that he has lost anyone. I do believe that Sans is aware that there is now two beings within the void, and he might have deduced who it was...but I cannot be sure, unfortunately,” Gaster explained, gesturing towards his son with one hand as he spoke. You leaned against the counter and let out a soft sigh. A hand materialized beside your shoulder and patted it lightly.

“What happens when we leave?” you asked quietly, “Will we ever get out of the void?”

There was a long stretch of silence where the two of you simply listened in on Grillby and Sans’ conversation. They were talking about Papyrus getting accepted into University, about the monsters in general, and about how Frisk was graduating from middle school. Finally, another hand materialized and turned your head away from Grillby to look at Gaster.

“I cannot promise you that we will ever get out...I...have given up long ago,” he said, voice impossibly soft. “I did not tell you that before because I was afraid you’d lose your own hope...and I did not want to cause it.”

You glanced down at the bar top and his fingers slid from your face as the hand disappeared once again. His two actual hands were folded on the bar top, and he wasn’t looking at you, but over your shoulder at Grillby. You saw the same bittersweet feeling in his eyes that you felt everytime you were given a chance to see your Grillby.

“Hey...” you said, reaching over and placing your hands on top of his. “At least we’ve got each other now. We’ll probably get bored of each other eventually, but until then? It’s better than nothing.”

Gaster searched your eyes for a moment and then his permanent grin stretched a bit more. “I agree.”

You squeezed his hands, and the two of you listened quietly to the rest of the conversations in the bar just holding hands. Eventually, the door beckoned you both back within it and with the greatest reluctance, you stepped back into the void. A few quiet moments passed between you and Gaster before you turned towards him. “Can I stick my hands in your goop?”

“Excuse me??” he blurted out, “What kind of question is that?”

“Are you all goop?” you asked, shifting closer, “Or are you boney? Come on, Gaster, it’s for scientific research!”

Gaster huffed out, “I am mostly goo in the void.”

You tilted your head, but allowed that to be the end of that conversation as he seemed uncomfortable with it. Until he started questioning you about human biology instead.

Conversations flowed between the two of you easily, and sometimes the two of you would just walk around the void holding hands. Occasionally you’d spot a distant blip of Sans or Papyrus slipping through the void in their very different ways. Papyrus never truly entered the void, it was like he slipped between the spaces between.

You stopped trying to count the days, and you found yourself growing fond of the goopy monster you spent your days with. The dry sarcasm, quick puns, and the endless abdunce of knowledge that satiated your craving to learn and to grow even if you were stuck.

Eventually, Gaster even let you stick your hands into his goop to your intense giddy excitement! It was warm and comforting as it always was when he hugged you, but you pushed past that outer layer of goo and eventually found a bone. It was…gross feeling, but you smiled brightly still. “Cool!” you blurted out, tilting your head in curiosity.

Time passed and you were practically glued to Gaster’s side, not literally. Though sometimes the goo stuck a bit longer to you until you flicked it off. You caught him blushing occasionally after a cuddle session or when you successfully shot back with a clever pun or recited some scientific knowledge back to him during conversation. The two of you were more likely to be cuddling together, holding hands, or anything that meant you could feel something…anything.

“Do you think if we get out of here…you’ll not want to talk to me ever again?” you asked suddenly one day, cutting him off accidentally.

His head tilted slightly, peering down at you where you were snuggled against his goopy chest. “Why would I not?”

“Just…you probably know everything about me by now. Will you be bored of me? I could see you being bored of me,” you admitted and he gave you the most offended look you’d ever gotten from him.

“I would not! The mere thought is ridiculous. I know who you are in the void! A stagnant version of yourself! Imagine what I could learn about you in an ever changing world? I, for one, would be more intrigued to spend time with you out of the void!” he said, a hand reaching up to brush aside some of your hair from your face. It hadn’t grown at all since you had been here. Nothing had changed. “Would you grow bored of me?”

You shook your head, “Couldn’t imagine it, Dings.”

A half-hearted glare was sent down at you before he leaned down and nuzzled your forehead with his own. That surprised you a bit, that was a touch more affection than you were used to but…you nuzzled back. “There is no one I’d rather face a different world with than with you,” he said softly, “besides, who else better to help my goopy coccyx adjust to the human world again than a human!”

You snorted, “Sans can teach you how to floss.”

“Floss? I know how to floss?” Gaster said, sounding entirely too confused. You laughed.

“It’s a silly dance,” you told him, giggling all the while.

“Ridiculous name for a dance,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Old goopy man,” you teased, nuzzling his face.

Time flooded by the two of you without meaning, and you found the fondness grow to deep affection. You were falling for Gaster and you knew it…but there was no pressure here. There was no reason to freak out about the feeling so you just embraced it. Allowed yourself to becoming more affectionate, compliment him…just everything you were too afraid to do in the ‘real world’ because of judging eyes.

The door between the two worlds opened again, and you found yourself wanting to stick with Gaster instead of flit off to Grillby’s bar. Instead, the two of you were watching as Sans tiredly sucked down coffee and compared notes with Alphys about the void. Gaster’s head tilted curiously.

“I…do not believe it,” he muttered, bending unnaturally over his son to read the notes closer. “They…are getting close.”

“How close?” you asked, looking over from where you were currently snooping around the lab.

A slight more of a head tilt, but he remained silent for a while. Sans and Alphys’ voices were the only that filled the room, but then Gaster straightened. “Two years if they keep on track at this pace,” he admitted, “Maybe less depending on whether they figure out which line of code is slightly off.”

“Two years?” you repeated, “That’s…soon,” you said in amazement.

He nodded.

The two of you were silent for a while longer.

“Holy shit. That’s…an end date.”

“It is. It may be longer…but they will get us out of here,” he said so softly you barely heard it.

The two of you looked at each other, and then you jumped across the small room at him and wrapped your arms around his neck. You shouted in excitement and his arms wrapped around your waist, babbling happily about how proud of his son he was and how he couldn’t wait to hug his children again.

You pulled away to grin at him, “I’m excited for you!”

“Just for me?” he repeated, confused, “What about you?”

“Dings! You’ve been here way longer than I have. You’re sons haven’t seen their dad since they were young. I know how much you’ve hated missing out on them growing up. Can’t I be excited for you?” you said, softening your voice and touching his skull gently.

“You can,” he said carefully, but then brushed a piece of hair away from your face, “and I am excited for you as well, my dear.”

“My dear?” you teased lightly.

“I…hm, it will be two years minimum I assume, until we are freed. However…I wish to…stay this close to you when we are freed,” he said choosing his words even more carefully, “as…I have…I love you.”

The admission wasn’t shocking or jarring. It was right. You smiled at him and nuzzled his face, “I love you too, goopy man.”

He sighed, and then in the driest voice possible he muttered, “I take it back.”

You gasped, fake offended, “Gaster!”

He giggled, “I’m teasing you, my dear. I am pleased to hear you love me in return…even though I felt sure that you have felt the same way for a while. Over the years I have become quite in tuned with your SOUL,” he admitted, nuzzling your face again. You kissed his mouth gently.

“I can’t wait to experience the world again with you,” you muttered back, “Two more years.”

#gaster/reader #gaster #fanfiction #fanfic #myfanfics #my fanfics #undertale fanfiction #selftober #reader insert #self insert

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darkobsidianquill · 5 years ago

Text

Harry Potter and the descent into Darkness.

Chapter Thirteen.

One of the things he enjoyed most about Moody's Defense Against the Dark Arts classes was that they were often very active, and focused on practical work. Moody didn't spend the entire class block lecturing, or having them read from their textbooks. He almost always set them to actively practicing spells in class.

The class was currently spaced around the room, all partnered off, and practicing the disarming charm. The thing about the class was that it had an odd number of students, so they could never get an even partnering set up. Since, by this point, Harry knew most of the spells that Moody was teaching the 4th year students, he had taken to standing back and observing in the class, or sometimes even reading.

'Moody', however, had also taken the opportunity to take Harry aside and teach him some slightly more advanced spells from time to time. Something which Harry had appreciated greatly. He now wondered exactly what the man's motive was behind the action. For that matter, 'Moody' had been trying to help him with the tournament the whole year.

Harry had come to the realization that he was not entered in the tournament so that he would die in it. Voldemort needed him in order to complete his resurrection ritual. So killing Harry was most definitely not the immediate goal. So why enter him in the tournament at all? Harry didn't know. But he intended to find out.

In fact, there were a lot of things that Harry wanted to find out, and his ultimate conclusion was that there was only one man who could really answer all those questions, and that man was Voldemort himself.

The rest of the students in his defense class were scattered around the room, all weakly attempting to disarm their partners, and most of them were failing miserably. It was quite honestly pathetic. Harry sneered at their pitiful attempts and rolled his eyes. He pushed himself off the wall that he had been leaning against and walked casually towards Moody, who was correcting Seamus's wand movement.

"Professor," Harry said in a quiet voice.

'Moody' turned and narrowed his one proper eye at Harry. "Yes, Potter? You need something?"

Harry glanced back and forth to see if any of the nearby students were paying them any attention. When he was sure that they weren't he leaned in a bit closer. "I was hoping that I could speak with you after class. Privately. It's important."

'Moody' looked suspicious – but he always looked suspicious, so this wasn't much of a change – and finally he nodded his head curtly.

Harry grinned lightly and took a few steps away and 'Moody' refocused on a Ravenclaw boy and started yelling at him for his poor pronunciation.

–

"You coming, mate?" Ron asked as he slung his bag over his shoulder and started heading for the door of the defense classroom.

"Moody asked me to stay after class," Harry said, as he finished back up his notes.

"What's he want?" Ron asked looking confused. Hermione's head came up and her eyes were filled with curiosity but she didn't say anything.

Harry shrugged. "Won't know till I go talk to him, will I? I'll catch up with you guys later. I may be late to diner if whatever he has to talk about takes a while."

Ron shrugged and started to leave, but it was obvious from Hermione's face that she was dying to ask some questions. Harry pointedly ignored her and turned to head back to the front of the class where Moody was standing beside his desk. His one normal eye was narrowed on him suspiciously, while his magical one was trained on him intently.

Harry waited until both Ron and Hermione had gone, leaving only he and 'Professor Moody' left in the room before he turned and smirked at the grizzled-looking old man.

"I asked you to stay after, did I, Potter?"

"I do apologize, sir, but their curiosity has been getting rather bothersome lately. Hermione especially, has been getting exceptionally nosy," Harry said with slightly annoyed look to him as he glared back towards the exit of the classroom. He refocused on 'Moody' and grinned. "Can we take this into your office?"

The suspicion in 'Moody's' eye grew several measures but he nodded his head and motioned with his arm for Harry to head towards the door at the rear of the classroom that come into the back of Moody's office.

The two entered the cluttered room and Moody sat down in his chair. Harry noticed that the older wizard had his wand clasped loosely in his hand and was twisting it in between his thumb and forefinger.

Harry hesitated before sitting in the chair opposite the desk and glanced at his professor. "Do you mind if I cast a privacy ward?"

The corner of Moody's mouth turned up in apparent amusement. He waved his hand. "Be my guest, Potter."

Harry pocketed his wand and held his hand out, palm facing towards the front of the office. He slowly began to hiss out a sequence of words to form a rather powerful privacy ward over the room. It would not only place a silencing spell over the room, so no one on the outside could hear them; and lock the doors; it would also set off an alarm the second anyone approached either of the doors to the office. It was a fair bit more powerful and useful than the 'normal' magic privacy ward he knew, and he had no qualms using parselmagic in front of 'Moody'.

Once he was done and he turned back to the professor, he could see the surprise and curiosity glowing in his eyes.

"Interesting piece of magic, there Potter... I must say, I'm more than a slight bit curious as to where you learned it."

Harry grinned and let himself fall gracelessly into the chair opposite Moody's desk. "From a book."

"Mind your cheek, Potter. Not gonna give me more than that?"

Harry chuckled and shrugged. "It was a book that once belonged to Salazar Slytherin. Before me, the last owner was a man named Tom Riddle. Heard of him?"

"Slytherin! Where in Merlin's name did you find a book that used to be owned by Slytherin?" Moody exclaimed, not responding to the second half of the question.

"Down in the Chamber of Secrets, actually. You didn't answer my other question. Ever heard of a man named Tom Riddle?"

"Riddle?" Moody paused, looking thoughtful, although the man's expressions were somewhat hard to differentiate given how scared and messed up his face was. "Can't say that I've ever heard the name. Down in the chamber, you say?"

"Yeah. The chamber. And I suppose I'm not too surprised that you hadn't heard the name," Harry paused and sat up a bit straighter, giving the old wizard a calculating look. "Before I say what I've got to say next, I want you to promise that you'll hear me out before you start throwing curses."

'Moody's body tensed, and his grip on his wand visibly tightened. "What do you want, Potter?"

"I want you to take me to him. Screw this waiting till the end of term, or the last task, or whenever the hell it is you lot were planning on taking me. Take me now."

"What the hell are you talking about Potter!" Moody spat with a tone and stance that spoke of ignorance and confusion, but Harry could see the tension and wariness in the other man's pose and demeanor.

"Voldemort. Take me to him. I'm volunteering my services. My blood. Whatever the hell he needs for this resurrection ritual of his. He can have it." Harry paused, and then smirked. "Well... up to a point. I'd really rather not end up dead. But I suppose that's part of the reason I'm volunteering."

Moody was standing before Harry was even done talking and he had his wand trained on him. Harry left his wand in his pocket in hopes of it being a sign of non-aggression. He was fairly confident in the parselmagic shield charm he knew, as well as his ability to dodge.

Harry raised his hands, palms out to show he wasn't putting up a fight. "I asked that you hear me out," he reminded the older wizard, loudly.

"And why, exactly are you coming to me about this suicidal little request of yours?" Moody spat, still attempting to feign ignorance.

"Because I know you're not Alastor Moody," Harry said, as he continued to sit in the chair with his empty hands bared. "You're Barty Crouch Jr. Convicted Death Eater, who was supposed to have died in Azkaban about a decade ago. Why you're not dead, and why you're here, I can only guess. I figured maybe you dad broke you out and left your mum there in your place. Couldn't quite figure out why, but I suppose that really isn't any of my business, is it?"

'Moody' was strafing slowly out from behind his desk and kept his wand trained on Harry the whole time.

"And how, exactly, did you work all that out, Potter?"

"A whole slew of different sources that I pieced together on my own. Most of those sources, no one else could have access to, so you really don't have to worry about anyone else working it out the same way."

"Is that so?" 'Moody' spat, disbelievingly.

"Look, Crouch. I've known that you were impersonating Moody for months now. I didn't realize that you were the same Barty that was working for the Dark Lord though. I only just figured that out this last weekend, which is why I finally figured I'd come and have this lovely little chat with you. Now, if I had been so inclined to turn you over to the old goat, I would have done so ages ago. Dumbledore has no idea about any of this, and it is entirely my intention to keep him in the dark."

"And you think you can just offer yourself to the Dark Lord and then walk away from it, unharmed?" 'Moody' sneered before chuckling darkly.

Harry shrugged. "I think I have things to offer him. I know he wants me dead, but I think I can be of a greater value to him alive. I also happen to know that this resurrection of his could be more powerful if I participate willingly."

'Moody' looked at Harry skeptically and paused. "How do you even know about it? And what makes you think your cooperation would make any difference at all?"

"I have visions. I see into his head sometimes. It's random, and admittedly, I have no control over it at all, but I've been in his head several times this year."

"You? In the Dark Lord's head?" he hissed, disbelievingly.

Harry rolled his eyes and raised one hand to tap at his scar. "This is more than ornamental, you know. I'm connected to him. He left a bit of himself behind that night when he tried to kill me. This year I stopped fighting against that bit and started accepting it instead. It's brought about a real change of heart in me."

'Moody' gave him a long, hard look. "Is that so?"

Harry just shrugged and rose his eyebrows a bit into his forehead before relaxing back into the chair.

"So basically, I just want to see him. I need to tell him some things, and honestly, I'd like to ask him some things too. We also need to work on this ritual of his because I'm positive that once he learns about my decision to say 'eff you' to the old goat, he'll need to make some adjustments to it.

The old ritual he was planning on using at the end of the year would really only work if my magical affinity was light... which it's not."

"Really, now? Has been Dumbledore's golden-boy been tinkering in the dark arts?"

Harry curled his lips into a fierce sneer. "I am not Dumbledore's anything. And I certainly know my way around the dark arts."

"And how exactly have you been able to to practice any of this dark magic of yours? The wards around the school notify the old man of any dark magic cast."

Harry snickered. "Nothing to be worried about. I've actually been having quite a bit of fun down the the Chamber. Best thing about it is that it's beyond the reach of the school's wards. Dumbledore doesn't know a damn thing about what I do down there. And you know, while we're on the subject, I've been incredibly curious about that stunt you pulled at the start of year where you cast the Unforgivables in class. Dumbledore had to be aware of what you did – he had to have thrown a fit over that!"

'Moody' snorted. "He got over it."

Harry chuckled. "Awesome. So. Me going to see the Dark Lord. My greatest asset to him will be if I can maintain a cover here after everything is said and done, so if we can work my visits to him to be as inconspicuous as possible, that would be better."

'Moody' gave him a speculative look. "You're really serious about this, Potter? You know you very well be going straight into you death? There's absolutely no guarantee to you that you'll be allowed to leave alive."

Harry shrugged dismissively. "I'm pretty confident."

'Moody' gave a disbelieving snort. "Cocky brat."

"So do you have a way to get to him? A portkey or something? And do you have a way to contact him?"

"Of course I do. But in order to use the portkey we have to go beyond the boundaries of the castle and it's grounds."

"Are you aware of the secret passage way down the hall from here?" Harry asked suddenly, and 'Moody' looked a bit surprised by the sudden question.

"Secret passage?"

"Yeah, just down the hall from the defense classroom is a statue of a one-eyed witch with a hump-back. If you tap her back with your wand and say dissendium, it'll open up and reveal the entrance to a secret passage. It goes down a ways and eventually leads to a tunnel that goes all the way to Hogsmeade. It comes out in the cellar of Honeydukes. About half-way through the tunnel, you escape the reach of the castle's anti-apparition and anti-portkey wards. We can just slip down there, go half way through the tunnel, and take the portkey from there. Is it a two-way portkey?"

"Of course it is. And you really seem to have thought this through."

"Well, I've been researching and planning it for a while now."

"You've been planning on going to the Dark Lord?" 'Moody' said with surprise and a tinge of respect.

Harry paused and looked thoughtful as he cocked his head to the side slightly. "Not... exactly... But... I suppose a part of me has been considering it for quite a while. Longer than I really realized it, anyway. I feel... drawn to him. I didn't used to understand it, but I do now," he chuckled and shrugged. "I suppose it all comes back to this," he said as he reached up and tapped his forehead again. "I'm bound to him. Trying to deny it has only brought me trouble, my whole life. Ever since I started to embrace it, I've been much better off, as far as I'm concerned."

"Hmph..." 'Moody' snorted. "Alright then... I'll contact the Dark Lord tonight... I can't say I'm all that comfortable with letting you leave here, knowing what you know..."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I've known what I know for ages now. If I haven't gone to the old goat before now, I'm certainly not about to go do it now."

"If you've known for ages then why haven't you come forward before now?"

"I told you – I knew that you were impersonating Moody with Polyjuice, but I didn't realize that you were Barty Crouch Jr."

"Who did you think I was?"

"Your father, honestly. Which really only confused me further."

"My father!"

"I've got this charmed map of the school. It shows a small dot to represent every person in the castle at any given time, and has their names listed beside the dot. Where I would expect it to say Alastor Moody – say, when you were at meals or teaching class and I was looking straight at you, instead it said 'Bartemius Crouch'. The map only gives first and last names. No middle names and no extra bits like Jr. or Sr."

"Do you now? Sounds like a rather interesting magical artifact... does anyone else have access to this thing?"

"No. I keep it on me at all times. And it's the only one. My dad made it back when he was a student here."

'Moody's' eyebrows rose a bit, to show he was mildly impressed. "So how did you finally figure out who I was?"

"Well I've seen you, as 'Barty' in my visions from Voldemort. I'd heard him refer to you as 'Barty'. But since I knew what you looked like, and you most certainly didn't look like the old man that I associated the name 'Bartemius Crouch' with, it never even occurred to me that the 'Bartemius Crouch' impersonating Moody could be the same Barty that was working for the Dark Lord. This last weekend I was talking with someone and found out a bit about your dad's backstory. Someone was talking about your being caught as a Death Eater and getting sent off to Azkaban, and that someone referred to you as 'Barty'. It simply turned on the light switch in my head."

"Light switch?"

"Sorry. Muggle thing. Nevermind. Anyway, my er... friends are gonna start getting suspicious if I take too much longer," Harry said as he reached into his bag and began to dig around. 'Moody' tensed and watched him carefully. Harry brought out a piece of folded parchment and placed it on Moody's desk.

"What's this?" 'Moody' asked, eying it skeptically.

"It's a charmed parchment. Anything you write on it will disappear and appear on its counterpart, which I have here," Harry said as he held up another identical piece of parchment. "It's not perfect, but I was a bit rushed. Anyone could read it, for example, so don't go leaving it around, and when you write something on it to me, keep it inconspicuous."

"I'm not a moron, Potter," 'Moody' snapped.

Harry smirked. "Obviously not. Honestly, I think you're pretty brilliant, even if you're not really Alastor Moody. You've been my favorite defense teacher, second only to the werewolf that taught us last year."

'Moody' snorted.

"So," Harry continued. "I'll check my parchment as often as I can for any messages from you. If you get word from the Dark Lord on when you and I can show up there, let me know. My house mates are getting a bit annoying in their curiosity about my frequent disappearances, but they've also become rather used to them. I usually disappear down into the chamber every bloody day, so if I suddenly disappear to some other place instead, no ones going to notice. Still can't be out past curfew though, or even more people will start asking questions."

"I'll take that into consideration. What's your schedule like, Potter?"

"Mondays, Thursday and Fridays are completely full. My last block on Tuesdays is open, but Wednesday I'm free from lunch on since I've only got Charms. My standard habit for the last few months is to head down to the chamber as soon as I'm done with dinner and not come back for about an hour and a half. My dorm mates are used to that, and it won't look strange if I'm gone for an hour after dinner most nights."

'Moody' nodded, as he memorized the information. "Alright, Potter. Now get the hell out of here."

Harry snickered and stood up. "I see that I've worn out my welcome. I'll be in touch."

– –

"What was that all about, Harry?" Ron asked as Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table in the great hall several minutes later.

"Moody wants to offer me some advanced lessons during and outside of class. Seeing as how I've already taught myself all of the 4th year defense spells that we're learning in class, and I'm going up against people three years ahead of me in schooling for the tournament, he figured it could do me a lot of good," Harry lied effortlessly as he began to pile food onto his plate.

"That's fantastic Harry," Hermione said softly, although the enthusiasm in her voice seemed a bit forced.

"Yeah, sounds wicked," Ron said, "Moody is a brilliant teacher... totally mental, but brilliant. But will this mean even more homework and stuff? I mean, you're already so busy all the time..."

"I'll probably be doing the extra defense lessons on Wednesdays when I've got the whole afternoon off. My evenings are starting to free up now so I may be spending some of them with Moody instead."

"Your evenings are freeing up?" Hermione asked, innocently and pointedly not making eye contact. Harry's eyes narrowed minutely, but he kept his overall disposition amicable.

"Well, most of my old projects are running dry, now that the second task is over. Some of the things I was studying weren't really 'done' with the task, and they were interesting so I kept working on them, anyway. I did sort of stumble upon a new thing though."

Hermione looked like she was struggling between being ecstatic that he was telling them things, and being frustrated by how vague he was being.

"New thing?" Hermione asked.

Harry looked up at her with consideration for a moment. Harry had spent the previous night with companion... or Voldemort's soul shard... or whatever, trying to brainstorm on some ideas of how to deal with his 'friends' and specifically, how to deal with Hermione.

She was only going to grow more and more suspicious of him if he didn't do something soon. His companion had suggested involving her in his most recent project. Specifically, his attempt to learn Old Aldric and translate the ancient book that was hidden beneath Slytherin's desk. The idea was to let her think that he was finally sharing something important with her, to set her off all of the other things he was working on. And as a side benefit, he would get some help translating the book.

Harry had instantly been wary of involving her with it, but his companion had insisted that the information that they would translate would only enlighten her, and would pose no threat to Harry, or what he was doing.

He wondered what exactly that meant, but if there was anyone left in his life that he honestly trusted, it was his companion.

Feeling resigned, Harry sighed, reached into his bag and pulled out the book on Old Aldric. "It's an ancient language that was spoken by the British elves before they left this realm. I found a book that was written in their language, and I've been trying to translate it. This," he said, motioning to the book, "is a book on the language and how to learn it."

Hermione's face was alight with that excited glow she got when exposed to some great new learning opportunity.

"Harry this is incredible!" she exclaimed, snatching the book and running her fingers over it reverently. "The elves, you said? Oh Harry! This is remarkable! There is hardly anything left in recorded history about them! It's all myth and legend! You seriously found a book that was written in their language?"

"Yeah, but it's falling apart it's so old. I'm hesitant to even move it. I've started just copying it so that I can translate from the copy and not have to man-handle the original so much. I'll bring you a copy of it as I get it ready."

She gasped and looked as if she were about to burst with excitement. "Oh Harry! This is so incredible! Where on earth did you ever find such a thing?"

"Sorry Hermione. Not telling that part. I'm letting you in, but only so much. Prove to me it's not a mistake and I might tell you more." Harry said in a straight, serious tone before turning his attention back to his plate.

Hermione's excitement came up short, her brow furrowed, and she looked thoughtful for a moment. Finally she nodded her head in determination. "Alright Harry. I'll prove that you can trust me again. Let me help you."

Harry looked up at her, feeling rather skeptical, but he nodded in response.

Ron, sat there, watching the two of them through their entire exchange looking utterly confused.

"What in Merlin's name are you two on about?" he finally asked, when his confusion became so frustrating that he could no longer remain silent.

"Harry found a book written by the elves!" Hermione said with the excited glow returning to her face.

"House elves?" Ron asked, twisting up his face?

"No, Ron! Not House Elves! High Elves! The ancient elves of Britain!"

"Oh, that's a load of malarkey! There's no such thing," Ron said dismissively.

"There was to Ron! And this here is proof! It's a book all about their language!" she said, holding it up in front of him defiantly.

"That could be a book about anyone's old language. What proof is there that that came from High Elves? And if High Elves really existed, then where did they go? How come no one has ever seen one?"

Harry twisted up his face. "I think they left... to another realm, or something."

"Why would they do that? That's just silly."

"I'm still working on that part. Although, I think that the story in this book actually talks about it..." Harry said, hesitantly.

Hermione gasped and looked at him with even greater excitement. "Are you serious, Harry!"

He shrugged. "I think so, actually. It seems to be an origin story. It talks about what happened to the elves, and how human's first got magic."

Ron snorted. "Fairytales."

Hermione scowled angrily at Ron before turning back to Harry. "Harry this is an absolutely astounding discovery. I'm dying to know how you came about it, but I'll hold my tongue for now, alright?"

Harry grinned and nodded his head. "That would be appreciated."

"Can I borrow this book to start reading it?" Hermione said, looking down at the Old Aldric book in front of her.

"Actually, I can just spell you a copy. That book predates the copyright charms that are on all the books in the library, so there's nothing stopping us from just making you a copy."

Hermione gasped again. "You can perform the book copy charm! Harry that's an incredible bit of transfiguration! That's beyond NEWT level! It's hard enough to conjure something from nothing, let along permanent conjuring, and of something as detailed and thick as a book!"

"Well, I won't lie and pretend that it's easy. I've had more than a few failures, but I've been practicing quite a bit lately and I'm pretty sure I can make you a copy of this one."

Hermione gave him a speculative look. "You've been practicing the book copying charm?" she asked, with mild confusion. "Why?"

"I've been copying some books," he said with a smirk and a pointed look, silently reminding her of her promise not to ask too many questions.

She huffed a bit in frustration of being denied answers to her questions and pouted, but didn't press.

Harry grinned. This would probably work pretty well. Hermione had a desperate thirst for new knowledge, and as long as he was holding this elf stuff over her head, she was going to be a lot more cooperative.

"Anyway, once we get back to the common room, I'll work on spelling you a copy of the Old Aldric book, and you can start reading it. Unfortunately, the other book is far too fragile to risk using the spell to copy it so I'm having to do it a page at a time. It's taking me ages, so I'll need to disappear again tonight so I can keep working on it.

"That's where you were yesterday?" Hermione asked in a quiet voice. Harry huffed.

"Yes. That is where I was yesterday."

"Why couldn't you just have told me that?"

"Because you want to know where specifically I'm going – right?"

She nodded hesitantly.

"And you want to know where I've found these books?"

Again, she nodded.

"Well I can't tell you. And as things stand right now, I don't intend to tell you. If you can work with me, without knowing those details, then we're golden. If not, then there's nothing more we can do about any of this."

"I'll work with you Harry!" she said with an air of desperation in her voice. "I'm going to prove to you that you can trust me. I just... I want to make sure that you're not doing anything that might be putting you in danger. I mean... you aren't leaving school grounds, are you! You heard what Sirius said, Harry! If you leave, it makes you exposed! You could be attacked!"

"I'm not leaving school grounds. I swear. Nothing I'm doing, with these books, is at all dangerous and no one can attack me. Alright?" Harry said in a calm, reassuring voice.

Hermione gave him a long hard look, seemingly trying to gauge his honesty. Finally she nodded her head and smiled.

"Alright, Harry. I trust you. Thank you for finally telling me some of it."

Harry gave her a soft reassuring smile and nodded his head. He still wasn't entirely convinced this was a good idea, but at least it would keep her distracted for a bit. And he had to admit, he could definitely use the help in translating the book.

– –

Potter -

Can you get out late unnoticed?

Harry sat at Slytherin's desk, looking at the recently changed parchment, and chewing on the tip of his quill.

Yes, but it works best if I do it after all my dorm mates are already asleep. 1am would be best.

He wrote on the parchment and the words disappeared from the parchment a moment later. Harry had a full set of classes the next day, so he didn't exactly fancy staying up all night, but he would if he didn't have any other option. His first class on Fridays was History of Magic and he could always use it for a good nap if needed.

As he waited for a response from Barty, he returned his attentions to the ancient elvish book and his slow, tedious job of copying the contents of each page the hard way. He had found that he'd gotten quite accustomed to the strange shaped letters, and his handwriting had improved dramatically as he progressed. Hopefully Hermione wouldn't have any trouble reading it.

1am it is, then. Meet me by the statue you mentioned, tonight.

Harry glanced over at the spelled parchment and watched as Barty's writing appeared. He groaned internally, grieving the imminent loss of sleep. If he was going to see Voldemort, he knew there was no way that this would be a brief visit. He wondered if he could sneak into the hospital wing and nick a vial of Pepper-Up potion to help him function, come morning.

Fridays were his busiest days, and he didn't have a single free period the whole day long. Worst of all, he had double-potions in the afternoon with Snape. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

Harry tapped his wand on the parchment, clearing the last message before bringing his quill down and responding with a quick, 'Agreed. I'll be there.'

Harry took one more long look at ancient elvish book and sighed. He stood up, reached into his pocket and pulled out his trunk. He tapped the top of it, and restored it to it's full size, before hissing the third compartment open and beginning to sift through the books within.

– –

Sneaking away from the dormitory once all of his roommates were asleep was just as easy as it had been back when he was taking his potion once a week. Only this time he didn't tell Ron he might be waking up early, since Harry hoped that he would be back before any of the other boys woke up.

He slipped through the castle, beneath his invisibility cloak and with the activated Marauder's Map under the cloak with him. He got down to the second floor defense corridor and saw a dot for 'Bartemius Crouch' standing beside the one-eyed witch statue. When he actually approached, he didn't see anyone though. He reached out with his magic and could sense the presence of another wizard and after squinting, he determined that the other man was under a disillusionment charm of some sort.

Harry pulled back the hood of his cloak and smirked at the spot where he could feel Barty's magical signature coming from. He checked the map one more time just to make sure no one was going to be showing up in the next few seconds, before taking out his wand and tapping it on the witch's hump.

"Dissendium" he whispered quietly. The passageway quickly opened up and he nodded his head towards it.

'Moody' appeared and was eying Harry speculatively. "How exactly did you know I was there?"

"I could feel your magic," Harry said with a dismissive shrug. 'Moody' looked skeptical, but quickly made his way through the opening and down into the tunnel. Harry followed and closed it behind them. The two each cast Lumos spells on their wands and started a brisk pace down the tunnel.

About ten minutes of walking later and Harry came to a stop as he felt the oppressive weight of the castle wards suddenly lift from his shoulders and he let a small relieved sigh escape his lips.

"Okay, we can use the portkey now," he said as he turned to the older wizard. 'Moody' rose his eyebrows in mild surprise.

"You can sense the castle's wards?" he asked with mild skepticism.

Harry blinked back at him. "Yeah... you can't?"

"I'm perfectly capable of sensing magic, brat. I'm just surprised that you can."

"I don't see why that should be such a surprise... I mean, sure, a year ago I wouldn't have been able to do it, but I was wasting the majority of my magical energy on trying to keep a portion of the Dark Lord's soul from devouring my own. Since I stopped wasting so much of my bloody magic on something so pointless, I've got a much better handle on things. I figured this was probably what it was like for everyone."

'Moody' snorted. "Hardly, Potter. Very few wizards are in tune enough with the flow of magic to detect wards and auras. It is not a common talent."

"Hm," Harry hummed in his throat as he rose his eyebrows mildly. He gave a dismissive shrug, as if it really didn't matter... because, honestly? It didn't. And he held his hand out. 'Moody' looked at it and cocked a single curious eyebrow.

"The portkey?" Harry said.

'Moody' rolled his eyes and dug into his pocket, pulling out a bottle cap with a hole punched in it and a small thin chain going through it.

Once Harry and 'Moody' were both holding the chain, 'Moody' said "morsmordre" and the portkey activated.

The feeling of having a fish hook latch on to the back of his navel and pull him backwards through a straw overcame him, and a swirling moment later, he was landing unsteadily on the floor in the entry hall to a very familiar manor house.

He only just barely managed to keep from falling over, and quickly steadied himself. His heart was racing, but he was honestly surprised to find that it was eager excitement far more than fear that was powering it. He was still a bit worried. There really was nothing guaranteeing that he would be leaving this building alive tonight, and yet he was oddly confident that he would be.

Harry paused and looked around the large, grand space. It was obvious that the muggles who owned the house before Voldemort took up residence, had been very wealthy. It was also obvious that it hadn't actually been inhabited in a great long while. Harry knew that Wormtail had been tasked with cleaning the place up a bit, but the man was clearly no house cleaner.

Still, it was grand and impressive, and with a little spell work, the place could probably look quite nice.

Harry's musings were brought to an abrupt halt when he felt the cool point of 'Moody's' wand press into the back of his neck.

"Is that really necessary, Barty?" Harry said in a bored tone.

"Your wand, Potter."

Harry sighed and dug into his pocket, pulling it out and handing it over.

"It's not like I could really use the thing all the way out here anyway. This far away from Hogwarts and using it would set off the Ministry trace," Harry grumbled, defiantly.

"Up the stairs, Potter," Moody said, ignoring Harry's comment, and jerking his head towards the stairs in front of them.

Harry rolled his eyes and set off at a brisk pace.

"Is he in the library, or the study?" he said casually, over his shoulder.

'Moody' paused and Harry could almost feel the man's narrowed, suspicious eye burning into his back.

"The library," he said after a moment.

Harry reached the top of the first flight of stairs and made a right, heading directly for the library. 'Moody' came up beside him and continued to eye Harry suspiciously.

"So, out of curiosity," Harry began to speak in a casual tone, "Are you going to let your polyjuice dose wear off while we're here? I'd be interested to see you with your real face, rather than Alastor Moody's."

"Probably not, Potter."

Harry shrugged, only mildly disappointed before he came to a stop at the wide double-doors that would lead to the library and paused, glancing over at his escort.

"Just open the doors, Potter," he said.

Harry grinned and reached out with each hand to open the pair of doors in one sweep. A few steps into the room and Harry's eyes were drawn to the back of the small, levitating chair that he had become familiar with through his visions. He could just barely make out a small hand with long, skeletal fingers curling over one arm rest, showing him just enough to know that Voldemort was currently occupying the chair. The visual was merely a confirmation though, since he could feel the waves of magical power emanating from the occupant of the chair.

The feel of that magic was remarkably familiar, and the intensity of its darkness was literally intoxicating. Harry took a deep breath and had to fight to keep his eyes open and looking forward. The sheer power of the dark magic that was rolling off the Dark Lord was indescribable.

"My Lord," came 'Moody's' reverent, awe-filled voice, from behind Harry. "I have brought you Harry Potter."

"Ah, yes... so you have... you have served me well, Barty. I am pleased."

Harry took a few more steps closer and came to a stop. The chair began to turn, slowly, to expose the small homunculus vessel that the Dark Lord Voldemort currently resided in. He was piercing Harry with bright red, narrow, and suspicious eyes

Harry took two quick steps forward that caused 'Moody' to tense and aim his wand at Harry. Harry ignored the man and lowered himself onto one knee in a quick, fluid movement, and bowed his head.

"My Lord," he breathed the words, through his insane elation. He looked up at the piercing red eyes, through his fringe of messy black hair, and knew that his own emerald eyes were probably glowing with his excitement. His blood was pounding through his veins and his magic was dancing around him maniacally.

He couldn't rationally understand how he could feel so excited at this moment, but he was. He felt almost giddy. He was really here! Before the most powerful dark wizard of his time, and the man was looking straight at him, and he could feel the man's magic lashing out and tangling with his own. Licking at each other's magic like flames, and then dancing together dangerously. Deliciously.

He barely suppressed a shudder as he saw the Dark Lord shift forward in his undersized levitating chair.

"Your Lord?" the high pitched voice of Voldemort's homunculus spoke with a mixture of disbelief, and amusement. "I never anticipated such a thing would ever be willingly uttered by the Boy-Who-Lived," he said, sneering the title with obvious disdain. "You will forgive me if I am appropriately skeptical of all this."

Harry's eye twitched and he sneered lightly. "I hate that name," he muttered under his breath.

"Hmm? What was that Potter? Speak up brat."

"I hate that name," Harry said, louder, as he rose his head and smirked at the miniature dark lord. "The Boy-Who-Lived. What a load of tripe. Famous for something I don't remember and had absolutely no control over. It's idiotic."

"Hmph. Yes, well, I can't say that I entirely disagree with that assessment," Voldemort said, raising a single hairless brow. "Still, I am quite curious about this 'My Lord' business. Not that I do not believe that I am more than deserving of your respect and deference, but I am curious as to what has spawned the realization in you."

"It is merely fact. You are the lord of all dark wizards. Magic deemed it so, right? That's just how it works. I am a dark wizard. It is both my chosen, and practiced magical affinity, so that makes you mylord. It's just that simple," Harry said with a simple shrug, as if this were obvious.

The look in Voldemort's face said that he had not expected this response.

He held his wand in his bony, undersized hand and performed a few quick swirls and flicks.

Harry blinked and raised straightened slightly, while still remaining bent on a single knee, as he sensed a wave of magic course out of the wand and encircle him. There was a confused moment where he wondered what exactly the spell was, but all thought left him a moment later as he felt the powerful magic course through him. It was all Voldemort, and it was incredible. His magic tasted like him, if that made any sense at all, which Harry knew it didn't. It just reeked of the man in every indescribable way, and feeling it for the first time as it came out and touched him, was mind blowing.

The spell wasn't intended to actually feel like anything, he could tell. It wasn't the spell itself that was affecting him, but rather Voldemort's raw magic that formed the spell.

Harry's head had fallen back onto his shoulder and a small noise emanated from deep in his throat before he felt the magic leave him.

He blinked in surprise, and mild disappointment at the sudden disappearance of the spell – whatever it was. It hadn't been a curse. For that matter, it hadn't even been a dark spell, but Voldemort's magic was fundamentally dark, and that had been more than enough to effect Harry deeply.

Harry suddenly became aware that a bright, saturated, red light was now glowing from around him. He raised a single questioning eyebrow and then looked back up at the Dark Lord questioningly. The man had an expression of mild surprise on his face, which was slowly morphing into a wicked grin. A wonderfully frightening cackle emerged from Voldemort's lips next and it sent a thrill down Harry's spine.

The cackling died down a moment later, but the amusement never left the Dark Lord's face.

"Oh, this is just precious! Dumbledore's little golden-boy, with a powerful affinity for dark magic!"

Harry blinked and he realized what spell had been cast on him. "That's the spell that reveals a person's magical affinity, wasn't it?"

"Yes, of course, you stupid brat. What the devil did you think it was?"

Harry shrugged. "I do not doubt that you probably know thousands more spells than I do. There was no telling what you were casting." Harry paused and looked rather thoughtful. "Is there a way to prevent that spell? Block it or something? It would be incredibly inconvenient if someone cast that on me at school.

Voldemort's amusement shifted slowly to the cold calculating curiosity from earlier. "There is. Perhaps I will tell you later. Now, tell me how this happened brat. In your first year, you were every bit the stupid Gryffindor beacon of the light."

Harry snorted and looked away slightly. "Yeah, well in first year I was a naive, stupid little eleven year old boy who hadn't known a damn thing about magic a year prior. Dumbledore stuck me with muggles to keep me ignorant of the magical world and malleable to his ideals. He wanted a clean slate that he could write only what he deemed appropriate on, once I came to Hogwarts. I acted the way I felt I was expected to act. My only real priority was to be accepted by those around me because I spent my entire youth being loathed by those who were supposed to be my family.

"Dumbledore worked it so that he had full control over what information I had access to, and he had full control over what opinions I could form about the way of magic and the wizarding world. He set it up so that he could mold my thoughts and ideals towards his own. It worked... for a while. This year, however, I had a bit of a wake-up call," Harry said with a sly grin.

"Do go on," Voldemort said, waving his hand and grinning. He seemed entirely amused by Harry's rant on the damned old fool, Dumbledore, and honestly a bit impressed that Potter had managed to see what the Light's beacon was doing, for what it really was.

Harry paused and shifted his position slightly. "Can I sit? This story will take a bit of time, and the whole kneeling thing is going to get rather uncomfortable rather quickly."

Voldemort looked less amused at this, but sighed a bit in exasperation before waving his hand and summoning a chair from some place in the room and bringing it to rest beside where Harry was kneeling. "Impudent brat," he muttered.

Harry grinned roguishly and quickly stood up and shifted over to the chair. He threw himself into it in a rather undignified manner and Voldemort sneered slightly at Harry's inexplicably confident demeanor, given his situation and surroundings.

Harry, oddly enough, found himself feeling right at home in the manor library. He had strange, vague impressions of memories of spending a great deal of time relaxing and reading in this room, in addition to the very clear memories of several visions that had taken place mostly here.

But aside from his comfort with the room he was sitting in, it was the magical ambiance from the Dark Lord opposite him that felt the most familiar. It wasn't quite the same as the vibe he got off of his companion, but it was remarkably similar. It made sense, when he thought about it logically, but it was still seriously weird when he realized just how strong the urge was to go touch the man... er... little creature, opposite him. The only positive touches Harry had ever regularly experienced had been in the embrace of his companion... who was in actually, a piece of the wizard sitting opposite him.

Combining his strange familiarity with the room, and the irrational comfort he got from being so near the magical signature of the Dark Lord, he almost felt as comfortable here as he did down in Slytherin's chamber with his companion whispering to him.

"Oh!" Harry said, having suddenly remembered something. "I almost forgot," Harry said as he reached into his robes. 'Moody' who was standing to the side with his wand trained on Harry, tensed and watched Harry's movements very closely.

Neither of the men had entirely expected to see Harry pull out a small object, the size of a matchbox.

Harry took his miniaturized trunk and set it down on the floor in front of him. He paused and looked over at 'Moody'.

"Can you unshrink it? Seeing as how you've taken my wand, I can't do it on my own."

"What's in it?" 'Moody' asked, eying the tiny trunk as if it were contaminated with something deadly and dangerous.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Just books, and none of them are even cursed."

Harry noticed, out of the corner of his eyes, that Voldemort's demeanor shifted slightly, and a margin of curiosity entered the tiny figure's eyes. "Do it, Barty," Voldemort said with a disinterested tone that didn't fool Harry at all.

'Moody' walked over and tapped his wand on the top of the trunk. It instantly returned to it's normal size and Harry leaned over, turning the latch and hissed out the password to the third compartment.

Voldemort's eyes widened and blazed with curiosity.

"Notechus?" Voldemort asked, translating the name that Harry had used for his parseltongue password back into English.

"Er, yeah. Notechus Noir is the alias I've been using when ordering things from Knockturn Alley, and any questionable vendors. The name Harry Potter is a bit too well known, after all. Notechus is the Latin name for the tiger snake. Noir is for Black, as in my godfather, Sirius Black..." Harry paused and looked around the room, suddenly. "Where is Wormtail, by the way? I was honestly hoping to see the little rat bastard while I was here."

"Wormtail is otherwise engaged at the moment... how is it that you knew he was here?" Voldemort asked with annoyed curiosity blazing in his eyes.

"Ah, yes. I'll be getting to that real soon here. Let's get this out of the way first. Consider it a bit of a peace offering, I guess. It's sort of an 'I'm sorry I was such a stupid little brat in my first year and delayed your revival by an extra three years'-gift. I won't apologize for the thing that happened when I was a baby, because I honestly don't think that I had anything to do with that. I mean... I am sorry that it happened because a decade as a floating spirit really had to suck, but I don't think it was my fault." Harry said as he began to pull book after book out of his trunk and stack them on the floor beside it.

"Those books!" Voldemort gasped as he began to recognize them.

"I brought you the originals. I made copies of quite a few of them for myself to keep though. When I first thought up the idea to bring them to you, I kind of hated it because it would mean parting with them myself and I've grown quite fond of these books. I set myself the task of figuring out how to copy them, and since pretty much all of these books predated the copy-protection charms that book publishers use these days, it wasn't too hard for me to manage. In the end I knew it was worth the effort. I knew you'd appreciate this more than just about anything else I could bring you right now."

By the time Harry had finished talking and pulling out all of the books he had prepared to give to Voldemort, the small man-creature had directed his levitating chair up much closer and was now leaning forward and inspecting the books with wild, excited eyes.

"You found Slytherin's study." Voldemort stated, not taking his eyes off the books.

Harry grinned. "Yup. Been spending most of my time there this year, actually. The chamber is just fantastic for dark spell practice since it's not connected to any of the school's wards, but still shielded from the Ministry's magic detection. I can cast all sorts of nasty things while I'm down there and no one is the wiser at all. It's bloody brilliant!"

Voldemort continued to examine the pile of books with a carefully concealed excitement for a moment longer before his eyes narrowed with suspicion and they slowly trailed up to look at Harry.

"Enough stalling brat. I want an explanation. You know things you should not know. There is more going on here than you've let on. I demand answers."

Harry nodded his head and gave a weak grin. "Alright. Are you aware that you left a piece of yourself behind when you tried to kill me when I was a baby?"

"A piece of myself?" Voldemort said in an almost mocking tone. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"A sliver of your soul broke off and got stuck to me."

Voldemort's face took on a look of incredulity, which morphed into shock, which then morphed into dawning realization and understanding. Harry found it fascinating to watch the expressions unfold on the face of the miniature snake-like human creature. All of this transpired across his face in a matter of seconds before he mastered his expression to a mask of suspicion.

"Explain," Voldemort ordered in a harsh whisper.

And so Harry did. He began by telling the dark lord how he used to escape into his mind when he was younger, but there was a dark spot there that scared him, so he began to try and build a mental wall around it. About his theory that he had done some sort of accidental mind magic, and had, for years, continued to focus an enormous amount of his magic towards keeping that wall up, and keeping him separate from the dark spot in his mind.

He told him about at the Halloween feast, when his name came out of the cup, how everyone had turned against him. About how the supposed great, indestructible friendship between he and his Gryffindor friends, had been tossed aside so easily.

He explained the first night that he slipped back into his mindscape in years and years, and his rediscovery of the dark spot. His realization that he had been throwing a mountain of magic at it all these years, and his decision to take the magical wall down.

Voldemort remained surprisingly silent. He didn't even snap at Harry for going on about idiotic sentimentalities. Instead he had a calculating look to him. He was obviously taking in every detail the boy was saying and analyzing the hidden meanings and explanations behind every event that Harry still didn't entirely understand.

"Looking back I see how much the way my mind works changed during that time... but at the time, I didn't notice anything at all," Harry mused at one point. "I started thinking differently. Not having so much of my subconscious dedicated to keeping up that wall allowed my mind to work so much faster and clearer. I was able to see the hidden motives and agendas behind things. I..." he chuckled and shrugged, "I became a lot more cynical about things, but honestly, I like to think that I became lot more realistic. Less gullible. Less foolish.

"I started to see Dumbledore's manipulations for what they were. I know you've got Wormtail here, so I assume you know at least a bit about the whole business with my godfather? Sirius Black was my parents secret keeper, and he got framed for giving them up, and then killing all those muggles that the rat blasted apart. He got sent off to Azkaban without a trial. Not even a questioning under Veritaserum. Nothing. Just carted straight off to prison.

"Thing is, I started to wonder – why wouldn't Dumbledore have done anything to make sure Justice was properly served? That's his thing, isn't it? All moral high ground and that rot. He's the head of the Wizengamot. He could have insisted that Sirius at least get a questioning under truth serum. Shouldn't he have wanted to? To get some more information about me having survived? If he was really your follower and was in on the whole you coming to get us plot, then he might have known something. He should have been questioned. But Dumbledore didn't insist on anything of the sort. He let him just get carted straight off to prison.

"So I was wondering... why? But then I found out something even more interesting. Apparently, Dumbledore had me taken straight from the wreckage of my parent's house to the Dursley's front porch, the night it all happened. I was found on their doorstep on November 1st. Sirius hadn't even caught up to Wormtail by then, let along have been accused of killing him and a bunch of muggles. When I was left in the hands of those disgusting muggle trash, I still had an entirely valid and worthwhile guardian assigned by my parent's will, to take me in.

"I wrote my aunt a letter about a month ago asking her about what they were told by Dumbledore about having to take me in. I knew she would never be too keen on helping me out, so I laced the letter with a compulsion charm, and the stupid bint wrote back right away. Apparently Dumbledore only left a letter with me. That was it. He left me on their bloody doorstep, all night long, with nothing more than a letter, telling them that they had to take me in. He didn't even stick around to talk with them. Just ditched me on the porch. In his letter, he gave every indication that it was a permanent placement, and they had no choice but to accept. He had no intention of me ever leaving them to go to my godfather.

"That's why he let Sirius get carted off without a trial. He didn't want me to end up with him. He wanted me with those muggles. His excuse about me getting a fat head from fame, if I had been raised in the wizarding world may sound valid enough, but I think it's a lot more insidious than that. He wanted me ignorant," Harry growled. He didn't realize it, but his eyes had slowly begun to glow a deep verdant green as the slow boiling rage within him grew. Voldemort watched this with concealed glee, and a powerful curiosity. The glowing green color was remarkably reminiscent of the glow of the killing curse. He could feel the dark magic rolling off the boy and he had to admit that Harry Potter seemed to contain a monumental amount of magic for his age.

Voldemort's experience observing the boy during his first year had been annoyingly disappointing. Harry Potter, his prophesied vanquisher, was a down-right pathetic student, and a below-average wizard. There was nothing magically remarkable about the boy at all. In fact, he had seemed magically weak. But now, knowing what he knew about the boy having dedicated what had to have been a tremendous amount of his magic to keeping his horcrux at bay, the boy's poor magical performance earlier in life made a world of sense.

Harry sighed and ran his hand through his head as he visibly centered himself and pushed down some of his rage. Next he began recanting how his 'companion' began to grow in consciousness. How it became a presence in his mind, and how it began to relay images, ideas, and emotions to Harry, even during his waking time spent outside of his mindscape.

Harry described the potions class when his 'companion' first spoke to him, and then how he was gradually able to speak more often, and remain in Harry's conscious mind for longer periods of time. Harry explained about how his companion's voice tended to be a rather raspy staccato, and how he was more often than not, rather vague, but that he was still able to get the message across when it was really important.

He continued on, eventually covering the visions, and the various things he had gradually come to understand over the last few months.

–

Voldemort found it utterly fascinating that his horcrux had become sentient and powerful enough to communicate with the boy, and yet he was mildly concerned that it had told him what it was. As Harry continued to describe his interactions with his horcrux and the things it had taught him, and guided him to figure out himself, he was intrigued. Apparently it had only recently told him what 'it' was. That it was a piece of Voldemort's soul. It had also left out the fact that there were others, or what they were called. Potter never once uttered the word horcrux, and it appeared this 'companion' as Potter referred to it, had a tendency to be rather vague when explaining things. Still, the fact that anyone knew about his horcruxes was upsetting.

The fact that he had inadvertently made Harry bloody Potter into one left him in a state of uncertainty. He needed time to analyze the various ramifications of this. He also needed to completely rethink his resurrection ritual.

When Barty had first come to him and told him that Harry Potter had come to his office, and volunteered to help with Voldemort's resurrection, his initial reaction was to think the whole thing a trap, and wonder how the hell the old man had found out what was going on.

He had known that if it were true – which, surely it could not be true – that he would need to make a few alterations to his ritual. It would be considerably more powerful if Potter's blood was given freely in an act of betrayal... and if the boy's magic was truly dark, as Barty had suggested it might be, then... well the possibilities were rather intriguing. His resurrection could be going much better than he had expected, if any of this were true.

But now... now! Oh, how this changed things... The boy truly was dark. Incredibly so. He rarely saw such a purely dark aura, and never in one so young. Granted, his own aura had been that dark at this age, but he was rather unique. But it really did make sense when considering that his own soul had tainted the boy so thoroughly. So the boy was dark, and it really did appear that Potter was willing to betraying everyone and joining his side. The boy honestly wanted to aid in his resurrection of his own free will. All of these factors would drastically change his ritual, but add the fact that the boy was a horcrux, and he was having serious trouble reigning in his own insane glee.

He had wanted to involve one of his horcruxes in the resurrection ritual. It would have made things so much smoother, and returned his new body to full strength almost instantly. There would be no long arduous process of acclimating the body to his magic once it was completed.

It had been one of the reasons he had made Nagini a horcrux using that stupid ministry bint, Jorkins, who so conveniently stumbled across him the summer prior. But Nagini was a horcrux created after his body had been destroyed and he discovered that this would prevent him from properly using her in the ritual he devised. No... it had to be one he had created prior to the disaster with the Potters. But would one created because of said disaster work? It would! He was sure of it. In fact, it was ideal.

When he'd first realized that Nagini wouldn't work he had considered going after one of his other horcruxes, but that hadn't been a viable option in the end because he was no where near strong enough to get past all of the protections he had placed around the ring and the locket. He had no chance of gaining access to Hogwarts for the diadem, and didn't trust anyone else in retrieving it for him. Bellatrix was locked away in Azkaban, so he had no access to her vault to get the cup, and Voldemort didn't trust Lucius and his powerlust with Voldemort in his currently weakened state.

So he had had to settle for other options. He had turned to relying on only the boy's blood instead.

But now... now he could have the best of both worlds. It was as if the Fates were finally smiling upon him.

But that thought really only brought him back to other concerns.

The damned Prophecy. What would all this mean with the prophecy? He never had heard the entire thing. Could it have perhaps spoken of the boy turning? If he allowed the boy to live, would he be putting himself at risk? The boy couldn't possibly vanquish him, seeing as how as long as the boy lived, Voldemort was immortal. The boy's very existence made it impossible for him to die.

There had to be more. It was more obvious than ever that he needed to learn the full prophecy. Could he use the boy for that?

Voldemort refocused on Harry Potter and a sly grin spread across his lips. He had remained quiet for several long minutes once the boy had stopped relaying his story, and the other had been surprisingly patient for someone his age. He looked oddly... comfortable. That was almost unsettling. No one ever looked comfortable in his presence. Terrified, cowed, reverent... but never comfortable.

"I will need some time to rework the ritual," he said finally and Harry grinned and nodded.

"I figured as much."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed but he didn't acknowledge the statement any further. He had been greatly unsettled when Potter had recounted his 'dream visions' he had where he had been inside Voldemort's mind. Seeing, thinking, and feeling as him. Given the nature of their unique connection, he could understand how it was possible, but he was still entirely displeased by this breach of his mental security. If things had been different; if the boy hadn't turned dark; the breach could have been disastrous for him.

However, Potter made it sound like any of these 'visions' that he had, before embracing Voldemort's horcrux, had been vague, difficult to remember, and so painful he found it difficult to think clearly after one. It wasn't until he had begun to turn dark and meld with the horcrux that the visions cleared up and became coherent.

Voldemort considered his next action for a long moment. He was greatly inclined to simply hold the boy at the manor until his preparations were complete. The idea of letting this opportunity slip through his fingers by allowing Potter to go back to Hogwarts, left bile in his throat. But it would be a necessary test.

If he was to incorporate the boy's voluntary participation in the ritual, it had to actually be voluntary. The boy had to choose to return for the ritual. And he felt strangely sure that the boy would return.

"Barty will take you back to Hogwarts. I will contact him when I am ready to perform the ritual. It shouldn't be long. You will come when he says it is time. Is that understood?" Voldemort said in a tone that booked no room for argument. Oddly enough, the boy grinned.

"Sounds like a plan. Not that my input is really welcome, but if you could work it to be on either a Wednesday afternoon or sometime during a weekend, that would be great. If it's got to be an all-night sort of thing, then a Tuesday night would be grand. I've only got charms on Wednesdays and nothing else. I could easily skiv the class off too, if need be."

"Still so confident that I'll be letting you leave, afterwards?" Voldemort remarked drying with a raised brow.

"You're letting me leave now, aren't you? Besides, even without the whole 'my existing makes you immortal' thing, I know I can be useful to you if I stay on the 'in' with the old goat."

Voldemort smirked, even thought he knew he should have glared. The brat was obstinate and impertinent, and yet it somehow didn't piss him off. The boy reminded him of himself at that age, only with far more pathetic manners, and an annoyingly cocky demeanor. But he could work on that. This arrangement with Potter could prove to be extremely beneficial if he played his cards right.

He had thought that Dumbledore was trying to groom the boy into taking his place as Lord of the Light, but it was looking more and more that the old man had only considered the boy his weapon, and nothing more. Well, if he had hoped the boy to one day take his place, he was in for quite a surprise.

His grin spread.

Very interesting, indeed.

–

It was nearing dawn by the time everything had been completed and Harry returned to the manor's entry hall with 'Moody'. The man had continued to drink from his flask and maintain his transformation, rather than under go the painful discomfort of transforming back to his true self, and then back into Moody when it was time to leave. Harry was mildly disappointed at not getting to see Barty in his true form, but knew it really didn't matter at the moment.

They activated the 2-way portkey and reappeared at the exact same spot in the tunnel that they had left from. Harry was exhausted and once he and 'Moody' parted ways after exiting the tunnel, Harry slipped on his cloak and made his way to the hospital wing. He'd been there plenty enough times that he knew exactly where Madam Pomfrey kept the Pepper-Up potions and a simple Alohomora was all that was needed to unlock the cabinet. Considering that the unlocking charm was a second-year spell (although, of course, Hermione had known it in first), he wondered why people even bothered using such a weak locking spell on anything.

He slipped the potion into his pocket, intent on taking it shortly before breakfast, and slipped out of the hospital wing unnoticed by any. By the time he made it up to his dorm room, there was only an hour and a half before the rest of his dorm mates would be getting up to get ready for breakfast. He quickly changed into bed clothes and laid down in bed. An hour and a half of sleep wouldn't likely do him much good, but he could at least slip into his mindscape and discuss the nights events with his companion.

The experience had been bewilderingly exhilarating. Part of him still couldn't believe that he'd really done it. He had gone to Voldemort! He had spent the night in the company of the most powerful dark lord to come about in centuries, and he had loved every ruddy minute of it. Just being near him had been incredible to Harry's magical senses. The very air was alive with the powerful wizard's magic, and that was despite him being in an extremely limited form.

He couldn't wait until the man was fully restored. How insane was that? He was bloody excited, and vibrating with anxious anticipation for the resurrection ritual. He wished it would be that weekend, but he doubted it would be ready so soon. Perhaps it would be the following Wednesday? If it ended up needing to be any other day of the week he could still make it work. It would make Hermione suspicious, but hopefully he could work around it. Make something up about the old Albic book? Or maybe something else entirely. He'd work something out.

Harry let out a long sigh, trying to disperse some of his excitement, and slipped into his mindscape.

#Harry Potter #Tom Riddle #Dark!Harry #Tomarry #Harry Potter and the descent into Darkness..

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antho-logy · 5 years ago

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Hi Miles,

I understand that you moved around a bit in your younger years; being born in South Australia before heading north-east to Ballina and Brisbane. Did the consistent moving around allow you to pick up new musical influences on the road or did your musical taste and style grow in a more insular way? I’ve never been to Brisbane - but I imagine as a young lad with budding interests in punk and alternative rock that it would have been hard not to be impacted by bands like The Saints and The Go-Betweens, especially if one was living in the place where both bands (and other contemporaries) first cut their teeth.

Miles: My family brought me up on a good mix of music. My grandparents were always playing classical music, real dramatic stuff. Then my mum and dad listened to heaps of 60's and 70’s bands like the Beatles, Bowie, Hendrix, Jefferson Airplane etc. Mum ran away from home when she wasn’t allowed to go see the Beatles in 64’. My brother also introduced me to loads of interesting stuff ranging from Britpop to Sebadoh to Dr Octagon. We both were into skateboarding BIGTIME and skate videos were always a rich source for music too. I’d say my time in Brisbane introduced me to more of the lesser known punk type stuff and going to see live local bands. Like you say, Brisbane has a good history with punk music and it was for sure evident in the music scene there. Go-Betweens records were always spinning at mates’ houses. I lived on Petrie Terrace in Paddington real close to the “Saints house” and every time I'd pass I would stare at it like it had magic powers or something.

Turning now to your lyrics, in particular those of a satirical nature found in songs like 'Photo Op', 'Work/Life, Gym Etc', and a newish one - that (as far I know) hasn't been released - which mentions Clive Palmer in some capacity (I've only ever seen it live and whilst pissed so my memory of what the lyrics specifically entail is hazy to say the least), do you feel you have a responsibility to include your take on sociopolitical issues in your songs? Especially in a world that is seemingly so fucked? Or is this something that just comes naturally to you - perhaps subconsciously informed by the music you listen to? (there are definitely some clear similarities between your words and that of The Fall's Mark E Smith).

Miles: I'm not sure I feel a responsibility to do so. I think it’s more of an outlet to life's frustrations and oddities. I think that with all of the world's current skullfuckery comes a certain amount of hopelessness and feeling powerless. I’ve tried writing love songs or more positive stuff but I'm not very good at it. I’m more interested in creating tension in music not good vibes. There are admittedly similarities and it's no secret I’m a huge fan of the Fall. I think I was initially drawn to MES because he was singing about stuff I was interested in, like history and taking the piss. I've been an avid reader of history books since I was a kid and have watched every bloody war film and doco out there and have always been a fan of taking the piss. I write about what I know over the top of odd sounding guitar music, which at times can be pretty Fall-esque.

Now, this question is one from a place of curiosity based on my observations, as opposed to criticism (as you know I am a big fan of The Shifters), but I have noticed that your sound and that of The Shifters has remained pretty consistent throughout your discography. Do you have any aspirations of taking the sound of The Shifters in a different direction whilst still maintaining the band's musical identity? Or have you considered taking part in the prevailing trend of Melbourne musos seemingly needing to play in a dozen bands at once? Are there other creative avenues that you think you could be expressing yourself through that are limited by The Shifters' already established sound? Again, I love the band's sound as it is, so if it never changes I think myself and fellow punters will cope.

Miles: Well I doubt we will be doing any classical rap/jazz or metal fusion records anytime soon. I think the next album will be weirder. All the new demos for it sound like they could be used in a sneaky spy film or something, which I’m diggin’. SPYTONES. It’s a hot new Melbourne genre. HA! I don’t feel the need to be in other bands really. The Shifters scratches my musical itch. We write a lot more music than what's on the records. I’m always recording music at home that only some friends and the band hear. I even did a Cher rendition a while ago! One day I might make a cassette or something of some it. Sometimes I like my home versions of songs more than when the band do them.

This is a bit of a cop out, but I remember that in our chat outside the Curtin you were saying something about the Melbourne music scene, and that it made more money for the city than the footy? Or was it all sports combined? Or have I made this up? If you remember what I'm talking about, please elaborate - 'cause while I can't really remember the conversation, I do recall it being very interesting.

Miles: I was reciting some stats to you that I read somewhere (I think it was the ABC) about the AFL grand final weekend and how live music for that weekend generated more money for Melbourne than the football did. I'm not totally sure how valid the source was though but it's pretty interesting if true.

Is the album title a reference to Tony Robinson's character in Blackadder?

Miles: It sure is. We were recording with Al Montford at his place discussing titles. We were enjoying throwing around ones similar to it like The Shifters are Bored Stiff, or The Shifters aren't Home as we just did that 7” called The Shifters Just Sat Down, then Al suggested Have a Cunning Plan, and I thought it was hilarious and we rolled with it. I LOVE Blackadder.

As I mentioned, there are quite a few songs in your live set that are yet to be released. Naturally, I must ask when will we receive the gift of new music from The Shifters?

Miles: We have a new 7” coming out in the new year. I don’t think I can say by who yet but it’s being announced really soon. There’s also a live in France cassette coming out at some stage and we are busy writing stuff for a new LP next year!

Also, please speak to whoever you gotta speak to about putting the 2018 demo tape on Spotify. It slaps!

Miles: Hahaha. Yes, will do. That’s another job on the to-do list. To put all the records on Spotify and generally try a bit harder in the admin department as I'm sure we are the laziest band in town when it comes to self-promotion and general organisation. We’ve a manager/minder type kind soul taking over all that side of things really soon as I'm hopeless at it all.

Cheers Miles and I look forward to whatever’s next for The Shifters.

Miles: Thanks for having me Anthony.

#theshifters #melbourne

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thebrochtuarachs · 7 years ago

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If they want me (a fan) to talk about it, I’ll talk about it.

Outlander S4 PR has been doing so well until this (IMHO).

My take on some Q&A from Cait’s Parade article.

It’s 3AM where I am and there will be grammatical errors on this but I had to let it out.

Really lengthy, snark, rant ahead. You’ve been warned. ✌🏻😊 Feel free to pass if not your cup of tea. I mean, I probably wrote a bunch of woozy anyway. But this is my space and yeah, haha!

1. What’s with the title?

Yeah, Sam’s name just had to be inserted somewhere here to make it clickable, sure. I don’t know if the motivation for “total opposite” was to show “how different Sam and Cait are” or “how Sam and Cait will never be” - but all I know is...opposites attract. If it meant to hurt shippers, well, were just getting started here.

But seriously - If I get a chance to chat with Caitriona Balfe about season 4 scoop, I’d prefer that instead of talking about fans and using the name of her supposed platonic co-star to speculate some clickbait on the article. If the latter was the goal, they probably succeeded a bit cause here am I writing this loooong post.

2. A great mystery - Who is Maestro?

First of all, Caitriona is NOT newly engaged - ITS ALMOST BEEN A YEAR. Second, I am yet again confused as to the nationality and job of the great maestro. I asked this once in my blog and an anon came through with a thorough explanation of Maestro’s “history” but I guess I’ll just go back to “NEVER being sure who he really is” again.

3. Oh, I grew up watching car races and now I’m in a racing movie!

I get the PR - Cait grew up watching car racing and now she’s in a car racing movie, what a way to come round full circle.

But I’ve read a couple of articles from Cait about her life in Ireland before and never have I seen before that she’s mentioned that watching car races was part of their family tradition holidays up until now. (or is there? I may be wrong. I’m not sure, could be. Some other people can share it, if there is) But nonetheless, true or not, it works well with the PR.

Also, Cait, I know a guy (Sam) who goes and watches F1 races from the paddocks. Why don’t you guys drop by sometime and you know, watch together? *wink wink* It’ll be good for research and stuff. Not to mention going out with one of your best mate, am I right? ✌🏻

4. I spend the weekends by myself - as shown in the way this statement is filled with singular pronouns

She drags herself alone to go out for some food, She reads alone, she walks alone, she prepares her own food and putters around the house. (I am my own, independent person regardless of my “soon-to-be hitched” status)

Okay, the way I see this - she really doesn’t want to be defined who she’s in a relationship with or who she’s engaged with. Look how independent the statement above is. I get it - she wants to be known more as “an actress” and not as an “engaged and extremely in love with my fiancé actress”.

Basically it kinda says “sometimes forget I’m engaged at all except when Sam and I are being too touchy-feely with each other.”

But seriously, Cait, not screaming/vibing engaged here! Meaning saying his actual name and weaving your relationship in the public face, inviting him to pose with you in red carpets and events despite his “shy” stature, etc. Erm, maybe just don’t be engaged at all and don’t get married yet - I didn’t say break it up or anything, just straighten the confusing narrative first?

5. I am not exactly like Claire but Sam, my co-star only, will be the first one to disagree.

Why do I feel like “and the other people who know me very well” line got added after a pause cause Sam got mentioned and she cannot mention only Sam because fans will suspect. Hahaha! (And suspect we well cause isn’t that the purpose of this article?)

Also, but why not “Tony, my fiance, will be first to disagree because he knows me so well” rather than her “were super platonic only” co-star?

Oh, cause of the narrative.

Which narrative again? I am getting confused now.

Oh, the one where Sam Heughan is just her friend who loves her and knows her so well.

Great.

6. SINCE SAM GOT MENTIONED THE QUESTION BEFORE ITS ONLY NATURAL WE TALK ABOUT HIM...

OMG, my English grammar mind is like screaching those dangling modifiers. “Sam Heughan, who plays your soul mate...” HAHAHAHAHA! That’s the first thing that I noticed. Second, the question would be much clearer if phrased “Are you good friends with Sam Heughan, who plays Jamie Fraser, your character’s soul mate?” - SEE sentence construction HERE, we would be talking about the show and its characters and not see anything else. But then, this is just me.

Also, why ask Cait if she’s good friends with Sam? Of course she is! (and I truly believe this regardless of whatever situation they chose). Other wise, if she says “no”, just imagine the PR nightmare it would entail. The repercussions, the bad PR from tabloids how the two leads “don’t get along”, the possibility of not getting renewed after season 6, a lot of bad will follow if she said the wrong answer. Hahahaha! Either this or the writer (don't know his history with OL) is super new to the fandom who don’t have an idea just how close Sam and Cait are.

Oh goody, we get the Hyde Park walk mentioned again! I always love this memory of theirs.

Comment on Paragraph 1: Why do I feel like Cait got caught off guard rehashing this story. The answer, if verbatim, is so jumpy and incoherent. Like I could summarise the story in shorter sentences. Eitherway, I’ve always loved that they spent the time together at the beginning and realised just how much of a relationship they were going to have. Also, the line” Who knows what this is going to be?” which they asked even before they started filming - so loaded the possibilities of the meaning of this simple question.

Comment on Paragraph 2: Shouldn’t it be maestro’s job to be her biggest supporter, the first person she calls to have talking to about stress? Also, love the “vice versa”. Sometimes, I can’t imagine Sam being the stressed one between the two of them but I just love their dynamic. OH AND THEY HAVE SIMILAR PERSONALITY TRAITS (where is the complete opposite part?! (*see next question*, here we go)

7. HOW TO DESCRIBE BEING IN A RELATIONSHIP 101

Here it is....how opposite Sam Heughan and Caitriona Balfe are that it’s impossible to think of them ever being in a relationship.

Cait is bullish and Sam calms her down before she gets too frustrated.

Sam is a little passive and Cait gives him a nudge and a strength to stand up for something.

OH WAIT

Erm, what you guys just described about each other is “being in a good, healthy relationship” - thanks, bye. Again...opposites attract. The statements just show that they’re both not as strong as one seem and really feed off strength from each other’s lives and company. Like, you know, being together or something to that effect.

Also, if you guys, Sam and Cait, are dropping the fake narrative soon, you know - Cait can nudge Sam to stand up for them and publicise their “real” relationship and then when the reality of their “real score” being revealed gets too frustrated, Sam just can calm Cait down. It’s honestly, a win-win, guys.

8. ONTO THE “BEST FANS EVER”

This question was actually fine until the follow up...

9. WAS ASKING THIS QUESTION FREAKING NECESSARY?

I think I’ve mentioned this before but IF PR WANTS TO STAY AWAY FROM FANS TALKING ABOUT SAMCAIT, then they have to stop allowing these kind of questions. They could’ve asked the author to not include this question in the publishing because what is the freaking point. If the writer have done his research, he already knows the answer to this (heck we know from various and numeous sources). And if he knew the climate of the fandom, this should not have been asked published - yet again. I’m sure Sam and Cait hate answering these questions because, lets admit it, it takes away some of the magic. But here it is and there again is their punchline and I’ve seen this same answer as before.

But Cait had to add something new: “But I think things are pretty clear now that I'm engaged to someone else. Everyone gets it now” HMMMMMMMMM...So was the purpose of the engagement to put off the stench and speculation that Sam and you aren’t together? That the main purpose was for all shippers to stop shipping you and Sam cause you’re engaged some someone else whose name you’ve yet to mention yourself in public or social media and your fans have no total idea who he is and what he does for a living?

Oh and uhh, Cait - NOT EVERYONE GETS IT NOW. If anything, were all the more confused. Also, regardless of what you guys do, you can never ever avoid the shipping (real or show) cause that’s just fanning is. Oh, and you’re not the first and only ship with OTP that have spouses. Seriously, you’re not the first nor the only experiencing this and the other fandoms have actually embraced this instead of trying so hard to shut it down.

9. REHASHING SEMI-FAMOUS FANDOM HISTORY

Seriously.

If the author had done his/her research, these are semi-famous stories already from before and he could’ve asked about book 4 or season 4 or anything RECENT that would make sense why this article was even written in the first place.

I just think it’s a missed opportunity to ask something else, something new. Meh.

10. Cait’s Faves

Maybe it should be Cait’s current fave things.

TSWDM as her favorite movie? I mean no offence to TSWDM but considering how deep her book choices are, I thought she’d choose a “deep, serious” movie as her favorite but choosing her “platonic” co-stars recent comedy flick as her choice (maybe in support of them having each other’s backs, you know) she chose that one - or maybe she really, really loved the movie too.

Race Car Documentaries - lets push the PR for her upcoming movie, yes!!

The Fiery Cross - EARLY PROMO FOR NEXT SEASON!!

Yeah, so I wouldn’t assume this is Cait’s “all-time” faves...

SO, WHY DID I DO THIS?!

BECAUSE I THOUGHT I’D FIND A POINT ABOUT THIS ARTCLE AND NOT SOME OBVIOUS HIDDEN AGENDA BEHIND IT?

WHAT EXACTLY WAS THE POINT OF THIS ARTICLE? WHY DID IT NOT TALK ABOUT OUTLANDER OR SEASON 4 AT ALL INSTEAD OF FANS AND NARRATIVES?

WHAT IS THIS PUBLICITY ALL ABOUT?

TO REITERATE THE “THEY’RE NOT TOGETHER” NARRATIVE CAUSE THE “SHE’S ENGAGED TO ANOTHER GUY” WASN’T ENOUGH OR DIDN’T WORK? TO PROVE JUST HOW WEIRD SOME CORNER OF THE FANDOM IS (as per the writing of this lengthy, rant post)

SERIOUSLY. I AM FLARING.

BECAUSE ALL THESE IS IRRELEVANT TO THE PROMOTION OF OUTLANDER SEASON 4 AND IT IRKS ME THAT THEY HAD OR TRYING TO PUT SHIPPER FANS IN, YET AGAIN, A BAD LIGHT, WHEN WE’RE TRYING TO STAY IN OUR LANE FOR MOST OF THE YEAR AND MAKING SENSE OF WHAT’S GOING ON.

IS THIS WHAT THEY WANTED? FANS TALKING AROUND HOW IRRELEVANT THESE THINGS ARE? OR SPECULATE HOW WEIRD OR AMBIGUOUS EACH ANSWER IS?!

Oh, Lordy.

COME ON, PR.

SELL YOUR SHOW.

NOT THE “NOT IN A RELATIONSHIP”.

NOT THE “BEST FANS EVER”.

NOT THE “DELUSIONAL” FANS WHO NOW FINALLY “GETS IT”. (cause, as per this article, we still don’t)

SELL YOUR SHOW AND WHAT IT’S ABOUT - JAMIE AND CLAIRE FRASER.

BECAUSE ALL I WANT IS OUTLANDER SEASON 4 COVERAGE.

TALK ABOUT CLAIRE AND JAMIE. TALK ABOUT BREE. TALK ABOUT THE BOOK. TALK ABOUT THE RIDGE. TALK ABOUT THEIR CHARACTER’S AND BOOK’S LIFE.

SUCH A WASTE OF SPACE AND TIME AND ALL FOR WHAT?

TO IRK SHIPPY FANS TO MORE EYE-ROLLING MOMENTS?

TO GET RID OF THE 20 SHIPPERS REMAINING?

CAUSE GUESS WHAT OUTLANDER/STARZ PR?

THE (RESPECTFUL) SHIPPING WILL NEVER STOP EVEN IF CAIT AND SAM ARE MARRIED - EITHER TO EACH OTHER OR OTHER PEOPLE.

THAT’S JUST HOW IT IS AND HOW ITS GOING TO BE CAUSE THAT IS FANDOM AND THAT IS SHIPPING.

SO, JUST FOCUS ON SELLING THE SHOW AND WHAT ITS REALLY ALL ABOUT.

JAMIE AND CLAIRE FRASER.

NOTHING MORE. NOTHING LESS.

Thanks.

*end of caps lock writing*

It’s 4AM and I’m going to sleep.

Updating this the following day after reading some comments and theories as to why this ever seen the light of day:

1. Could this be a follow up “aggressive shipper” article by EW?! A ploy put into place by Sony/Starz to, yet again, attack the “shipping” community?

IT COULD VERY WELL BE. WHY ELSE PUT UP THIS NONSENSE OF AN ARTICLE THAT DOESN’T PROMOTE THE SHOW ONE BIT.

Like to control shippers yet again after the love fest the past two weeks at cons? To control shippers after releasing S4 promo photos of Jamie and Claire?

I mean if they put this same effort in shutting “shippers” down to promoting their show, they might increase their ratings and subscribers!! UGH.

2. Could Caitriona be that Caitriona did NOT actually say some of the things said?

Possibly. I mean, now that I think about it, some statements were contradictory to what she’s said before and the language seems a little too forward that she usually is (e.g. “But I think it’s pretty clear now. I’m engaged now so everyone gets it”). Yeah, maybe it doesn’t feel like Cait saying this - cause I think she knows it’s NEVER clear but - yeah, could be. Could be that the this article was written deliberately to counter the “aggressive shipping” happening since the cons and using Cait’s “engagement” was their weapon of choice this time.

#personal #WHO LET ME HAVE A BLOG #Why did I write this #I got too caught up with just everything #had to let it out #I may probably be wrong in some aspect #but this is just me #putting it out there #for ...I don't know exactly #whew ill just find out tomorrow how this one goes #peace #love

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elastigirl72 · 6 years ago

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Day 10: Como

As I lie here having spent the last 8 hours listening to my Brazilian bunk mate snore louder and in more varieties than I have ever heard any man, woman or child snore before, I have time to contemplate and reflect. I cannot fit any more silicon earplugs into my ears, and even if I could, there are no more anyway. And still, the rumble through the steel of the bed, through my bones and into my skull where it resonates like a troubled pneumatic drill. I just wonder if anyone should tell her how bad she is...the two other ladies sharing the dorm must have suffered too...

Apart from that, this hostel is AMAZING! And in a strange way, I feel like I’m at work, in a very positive way. I’m surrounded by an international crowd of mostly young and enthusiastic travellers from all over the world. I spent the evening chatting with two Dutch guys and a Polish girl, all InterRail travellers, making the most of one or two weeks of annual leave. The curry Xander made smelt so enticing, I was disappointed that I’d already bought and eaten my food. Finding somewhere at such short notice and such good value in a renowned millionaires’ paradise (including my 5th heart throb, George Clooney), I couldn’t have felt more smug, sipping my free shandy and listening to Otis Redding’s “Sitting on the Dock of the Bay” (coincidentally which I was!)

Getting past the disappointment and missing of one of my adventure’s highlights, the Alps crossing, arriving in Bellinzona was like a slap in the face, in a good way. Alighting the train and entering the historic mountain town, I was confused: Switzerland or Italy? Cobbled streets, three castles, nestled in the high mountains, even the people looked less Swiss and more Italian. I found a hidden coffee shop to figure out Plan C (I had Plans A and B but they were pretty loose; ultimately, the plan was simply to get to Athens for 12 May), a large German speaking Swiss guy insisted following my adoring smile (at his dog, I should add) that I give his Pyrenean Labrador Sam some love, and that he take pictures (fortunately with my phone, as otherwise that could have been quite weird) as I do so. So far from home this felt like home. The cafe owners were lovely and although no one spoke much English, we got by, them telling me about Bellinzona and how Americans thought Switzerland was Sweden, and how some Swiss living there refused to accept the town as Swiss, and preferring to believe they are Italian. It’s easy to see how I was confused! The lady cafe owner also shared that 150 years ago or so, the town was in fact Italian, but somehow the border changed and it became Swiss. It was never in the plan to come here, but it is worth a visit.

Leaving the town, the rain began to fall, I electrocuted myself trying to get a good photo of a mountain cow, and whilst I had convinced myself that this day would be an easy day, downhill all the way to Como and beautiful, the route when I found it immediately took me up Mount Cerni...I was not prepared!

My confusion remained all the way to Como: where is the Italian border? Too many cars, and whilst many seem to love Lugano, I couldn’t wait to get through it. The area is as busy as the London suburbs and the driving seemed to deteriorate. I didn’t lust at the beautiful vistas, as most things look crap in the rain. I just wanted to put my bike away and have an easy day. All of a sudden, there it was: the Italian Border! One final climb, a descent, and I was there, right in the heart of Como.

Donning my flip flops and rain jacket after my much needed shower, I’d used up the last of my luxury item, shampoo and conditioner. I was starting to look and feel like a hobo. I craved moisturiser and found a beauty shop, suruptiously opening a sample and pretending I was trying them all out with the intention of buying. Normally, I’d get away with this, but flip flops in the rain give it away. No umbrella, walking beautiful streets even in the pouring rain, it wasn’t lost on me how alien I was to this affluent settlement. I decided that it’s not that far to drive: I’d come down here and load up on another day...

I can’t wait for breakfast! Maybe I will get back to sleep for an hour or so. I really love these hostels though. Travelling alone as I so often do now, it’s an easy source of company of like-minded people. I could have stayed up for the live music but hearing how the bar staff were giving everyone free shots the night before, i seinsibly declined my Dutch friends’ offer to join them! Another night, another hostel. If the weather allows, I’ll make it to Lake Garda today...I’m prepared for a soaking 🙄

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justalittleofmyworld · 7 years ago

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One kiss is all it takes (Luke Hemmings imagine)

I think this is the first thing I publish EVER. I was feeling kinda inspired and I had to write something down. For all my Luke girls out there (including me!). Give it some love if you read it. And feel free to send me some requests if you want.

Warnings: some language, nothing major. Some mentions of alcohol and a bit of angst too.

Hope you like it!

__________________

The music was blasting through the speakers when Ellie and I arrived to the party. Quite a big crowd was already in the penthouse, moving everywhere, chatting and dancing, drink in hand. We entered into the hall and I took her hand so we didn’t get lost among the people, ready to look for Sam. In the end, he was the one responsible that we were there. A friend of one of his posh and super rich friends was throwing a big party and we didn’t have a plan for the weekend, so he asked us to come. We found him in the kitchen, serving himself a drink while talking to a bombshell blonde girl who was putting her best dovey eyes.

“Hey, you finally made it!” Sam screamed when he saw us, taking her attention away from the girl. I could tell that that drink wasn’t his first of the night, maybe not even the second. “C’mon, there’s a room upstaiars where you can leave your jackets and bags, second door to the right I think” he said loudly over the music and pointed to the stairs over the place. “I’ll just pour some drinks for you!”

We made just that and returned to the party, where Sam was waiting for us with two red cups filled with god knows what. No sign of the blondie.

“Let the party begin, friends!” I shouted and toasted with their cups, giving the drink a big sip that burned my throat down. We mingled with the people in the big living room, laughing at Sam’s comments while some Drake songs were played. I quickly finished my first drink during the first three songs and went to kitchen to start with the second, followed by Ellie and a quite drunk Sam.

“Have you seen that guy, the one with the black shirt?” Ellie asked, looking at a boy at the other side of the room. Sam followed her gaze while I poured some gin and lemon on my cup. “Kinda cute, right?” I looked at her weirdly and then looked at him. I found a very familiar brown-eyed boy waving at me. I waved back and made a sign to him to come in our direction.

“Wait a minute, you know him?” she asked with her eyes wide open while I started pouring a drink for her.

“Yeah, he’s my friend. Well, he and the two that come with him” I said, giving her a new filled cup and turning just to see Calum, Michael and Ashton approaching to us.

“Hey you!” Michael gave me a quick hug and so did the other two boys. “We didn’t expect you here”

“I didn’t expect you here either” I replied. “Guys, these are my friends Ellie and Sam, “ I introduced and they saluted each other.

“Is it weird that your faces sound familiar to me?” Sam asked and I giggled. We quickly started talking and moved out of our spot by the kitchen island.

We spent the next hour drinking and laughing and dancing a bit too. It seemed like my two friends had found a great source of conversation in the boys and I was so pleased. After a while, I was definitely a bit drunk and my head felt like spinning but in a funny way.I realised I was drinking too quickly when I emptied my third red cup in a short period of time. I looked around the place and found the door to the terrace was open.

“Guys, I need some air” I said. I was in the middle of a big laughter that was making my head go crazy, “I’ll be back in a minute” I said and walked to the terrace.

There was a few people smoking and chatting once I got there. I walked to the railing and rested my hands there, looking over the city. God, whoever lived in that house was lucky to have this view every day. The shining lights of the traffic below our feet, the whole skyline of the city in front of us… It was mesmerising. I breathed in deeply and instantly felt better, the air of the night clearing my head. I was deep in my thoughts when I saw someone resting his arms on the railing by my side. I turned to my right and smiled at Calum.

“I needed some air too” he simply said and looked to the front, to the city lights. “It’s been months since I last saw you” he started. “Where have you been hiding?”

“You know, here and there” I replied laughing. “I’ve been quite busy. You know, finding a job, working, trying to survive in the city. It’s not that you’ve been around either” I hit him lightly with my fist in his shoulder and we giggled.

“Yeah, tour’s being exhausting, honestly” he sighed, taking a cigarette out. “You know, promo, shows, trying to survive in the music industry…” he paraphrased me and that made me laugh. I had missed this moments so much. “By the way, do you have a lighter?” he asked me. “Luke has taken mine earlier and I don’t know if he’s arrived yet”, he explained.

My body froze and it wasn’t because of the chilly air. Knowing that Luke could be there, in the same place as me, was something I didn’t expect at all. Idiot, I scolded myself, they always go together to every party, the four of them. Why wouldn’t it be different today?

“Luke’s here? I asked Calum and he suddenly realised about the situation. He looked at me and scratched the back of his head, nervous.

“Well… I don’t know. He said he’d be coming, but… Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d be here” he apologized.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not like you planned it or anything, it’s just…” I sighed and looked at the glass door. “I don’t feel like seeing him, to be honest”

“Believe me, I know” he mumbled and put his hand on my shoulder, trying to make me feel any better.

We saw Ashton with Ellie going outside and coming to us. “Hey mate,” he said to Cal, “Luke’s just arrived and he’s looking for you. He says he has your lighter or something like that” he explained.

I looked at them and then at Calum for a second. “I better be going, It’s kinda late and I’m tired” I told them.

Ellie looked at me and then she opened her eyes widely. “One moment” she started. “Is he Luke? Like YOUR Luke?” she questioned and I nodded slightly. “Oh fuck” she muttered.

“Really guys, it’s nothing” I broke the little silence between us. “It’s not like the end of the world, I’m just going home. Have fun, ok?” I concluded and walked towards the door.

“Wait!” Ellie came behind me and grabbed my wrist. “Are you serious?” she scolded me, “Are you really going to go home? You haven’t even seen him! Maybe you don’t even see him, this place is fucking huge” she said and then, like he has been invoked, I could see him across the room. A chill went down my spine and I opened my eyes in surprise. I felt my friend huffing by my side.

“I’m going home. You can stay if you want. I just want to go, really” I said to her and I escaped from her, looking for the stairs and the room in which I had left my jacket and bag when we arrived.

I closed the door behind me and started searching for my belongings while some Arctic Monkeys song was blasting. A minute after, among what looked like a million things, I was able to find what I was looking for and I took it, ready to go home. I was about to get to the door when it opened and a tall figure appeared behind it. Tall, with his blond curls longer than I’d ever seen them, the same blue eyes and that black leather jacket I remembered. Luke Hemmings, ladies and gentlemen, had decided to cross that door in the worst moment ever. I felt my heart racing in my chest and my nerves tickling as I looked at him in disbelief and grabbed my things tightly.

“What are you doing here, Luke?” I asked him dryly. They weren’t the best words to say to someone two years after you broke up with him.

“I saw you coming in here and… I don’t know, I just came to say hi” he explained, approaching a little to me. My instant reaction was to take a step back, and I could see the hurt in his eyes. Those blue eyes.

“Well, hi” I replied. “I was going home actually, so… I’ll see you around, I guess” I said and went for the door.

“Wait” he moved fast and put his body in front of me, blocking me the access to the door. “Please, can we just talk?” he asked and it felt like… like he was begging.

“Not really” I harshly replied, trying to stay firm. “I’m going, so can you let me get to the door?” I tried to move to the side but he was faster and blocked me again.

“Please” he repeated. “Just a minute. Then I’ll let you go”. He looked down at me and I just shook my head.

“One minute” I finnaly decided and crossed my arms. “What do you want, Luke?”

“To apologize” he said and I almost let my bag fall to the floor. I had to grip my things harder to make sure they weren’t falling.

“And do you really have to do it now? Because I don’t think it’s the moment”

“Taking into account that it’s the first time I see you since…” he avoided saying it out loud, like it still hurt, “… in two years, yeah, I think it’s the moment.” He looked at me in the eyes and a well-known chill retuned to run down my back. Those eyes, I hated them as much as I liked them. I turned my eyes away and broke the contact.

“Thirty seconds” I said instead, trying to be calm.

“I’m trying to say that I’m sorry, so try to be a little more receptive for a minute”. He exclaimed exasperated, running his hands down his hair.

I turned my eyes back to him, trying to put in them all the anger that was starting to build up in my body. “Two years, Luke. You had two years to say whatever you wanted to say and you didn’t, so don’t come now like you’re the victim and I’m the villain of this story.” I felt myself raising my voice tone while I pointed out at his chest.

“Don’t you think I know that already?” he said back raising his voice too. “I came here to talk to you, to apologize for what I said then” he started. “It was bad, ok? It was horrible, I was horrible” he corrected himself, “and I’m so sorry for that. We’ve both been so proud and haven’t talked to the other for two fucking years, but right now at least I’m trying to show some white flag and you’re just being so childish and stubborn.”

“Childish? Me?” I huffed and I let my things fall to the floor, ignoring them. “You’re the one that is being childish by thinking that everything’s going to be fine from now on. Because you just apologized and nothing happened, right?” I said while pacing around the room. “Now what? Are we going to come back like it never happened? Or are we going to be friends? Because I don’t see it like a possible option”. I stopped pacing and put my back on the wall, looking for some support. I felt how the adrenaline was going out of my body, letting me feel tired. I looked at him. “Luke, I’m exhausted. I just wanna go home.” My voice cracked and I let my eyes wander to his, begging him to stop with all that. “Please.”

I saw him slowly approaching to me, his eyes still on mine as silence installed itself in the room. “Say that you’ll forgive me, at least” he lowered his voice and stayed a step from me. I felt his eyes almost making a hole through my body, his gaze so intense that I couldn’t stand it any longer.

“I don’t know, just… I don’t know what to think right now. I don’t wanna think, to be honest.” I let my head fall and my hair with it, blocking the view of him in front of me. He raised my head and put my hair away from my face. Having him so close after all this time was suffocating and so nice at the same time, like a very well-known sensation that I haven’t experienced in a long time. I knew that this wasn’t good, these mixed feelings, the way he could make me feel this anger and… longing at the same time.

“We didn’t think that much before, right?” he whispered a few inches from my face before tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “Everything was so easy”. His blue eyes locked on mine and I just didn’t think anymore.

I was the one who kissed him. It was nothing but a short, quick kiss, after which I was as surprised as him. I wanted to slap myself in the moment, I felt so weak for letting myself fall in his trap. I glanced up to his eyes, not knowing what to say, ready to say whatever and run out of the room. But he cupped my check with his hand and kissed me back and I couldn’t do anything about it. It was like my body hadn’t forgotten how to react to his kisses and, somehow, we moved in sync: me getting closer to his body, him pinning me against the wall. I wanted to hate myself for doing what I was doing, for allowing this to happen, but the truth is that my mind was totally blank.The kiss built quickly pretty intense and soon, my arms were around his neck and my hands started running through his hair and tugging at it, a very strange sensation due to his new longer hair, yet still so familiar. I felt his hands burning in my hips, his fingers digging the skin just below hem of my shirt while he made his way down my neck. His tongue invaded my mouth and started playing with mine, almost making me moan at the feeling. Freaking Luke, he always knew how to kiss, he always knew how to make me dizzy. And then, my mind decided to make some kind of connection and I realised what I was doing. I broke the kiss suddenly.

“Luke, stop" I breathed out, making him to look at me surprised. He tried to go back to my lips but I turned my face to the side and didn’t let him, pushing his body apart. “Please, stop.” I said breathless, feeling my heart pounding hard in my chest and.

He looked at me puzzled and breathing as heavily as me. “What?” he asked.

“We can’t do this” I said, escaping from his embrace and managing to take my things from the floor. “I just can’t” I repeated, more to myself than to him, while I put my bag on my shoulder. I looked at him again and turned to the door, opening it. “I’m so sorry” I whispered and went out of the room quickly, closing behind me.

I almost ran downstairs and to the front door to go out of the penthouse. While I waited for the elevator, I just wished he didn’t followed me. A minute after I was on the street, the cool air hit me and I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to put my head and my feelings in order. I walked up the street and waved at a taxi to make it stop. Once I gave my address to the taxi driver, I let myself fall into the backseat and all the details from minutes ago came to my mind and hit me. I wanted to shout, to break something, to hit things. Instead, tears started running down my face. I was feeling stupid and angry for kissing him in the first place, for letting myself fall into his kiss like I did, for letting myself feel even the slightest thing while his lips were on mine. But overall, I was feeling stupid for realising that, deep inside, I hadn’t forget Luke and I couldn’t do anything to help it.