#your insights on grief? life changing

[petricorah]

scenes i loved from Real Enough to Get Me Through by @marriedzukka <333 [ids in alt]

[totheblood]

begging for rain. (three)

󠁐# THREE; the harder that it takes to undo

PAIRING: ex!ellie williams x nextdoorneighbor!reader

SUMMARY: moving to a new town can be tough, especially as you are trying to hold everything in your life together. after you meet ellie, your life completely changes, but for the better? well that's still up in the air

WARNINGS: mentions of death, grief, related subjects; cursing, mentions of drinking/drugs, mentions of s*x,

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

A/N : ok this was the longest chapter i've written to date so... please enjoy.... ONE AI AUDIOS IN THE FIC ! please please please like and reblog/reply/send asks, comments, the whole nine yards… it is so appreciated!

TWO YEARS AGO

It felt weird to be in Ellie’s house.

Ellie opened the door to a cozy living room with warm beige walls and wicker furniture that had been well-worn by time. An old acoustic guitar leaned against one wall and a record player sat atop an end table, surrounded by piles of vintage vinyl. The air was thick with the aroma of coffee and old books, creating a comforting ambiance. Family photos and posters dotted the walls, giving an insight into Ellie's life that made you feel like a intruder but also made you want to know more. 

"Nice place," you said, removing your shoes at the door.

"Thanks," Ellie smiled, leading you to the living room. "You can drop your stuff there. We'll study at the table."

You took a seat at the sturdy oak dining table and ran your fingers over its smooth surface before settling into it. Scattered papers littered the table, some lined with handwritten lyrics, others with doodles intertwined in colored ink. You opened up your English books and laid out your homework, feeling a sense of warmth emanating from the room. The aged furniture added an air of familiarity, like you were being invited into Ellie's private world. Ellie seemed to be working on physics homework, while you had an English essay on Shakespeare to tackle. The juxtaposition wasn't lost on you—Ellie with equations and you with Elizabethan English.

You both settled into your work, the atmosphere tinged with concentration. Occasionally, your eyes would drift towards Ellie, watching her brows furrow in thought or her lips move silently as she read through her notes. Each time, you'd catch yourself and refocus on your own work.

"So, how are you finding the essay?" she finally broke the silence.

"It's... okay, I guess. Mrs. Porter has a way of making Shakespeare sound like rocket science."

Ellie chuckled. "Ah, the age-old struggle. To be or not to be confused, that is the question."

You laughed, and for a moment, the tension of the day seemed to lift. "You're not so bad at this, you know," you said. "Maybe you should consider a career in stand-up."

"And give up my dream of becoming a rockstar physicist?" she feigned surprise. "Never."

You smiled at her enthusiasm. "A rockstar physicist, huh? That's a first."

"Well, what about you? Any grand plans?"

You hesitated, thinking about your dad for a moment. You blinked, looking down at the book in front of you before looking back up at Ellie.  "I'm not sure. I used to think I had it all figured out, but now... everything's so uncertain."

Ellie put down her pen and looked at you, her green eyes softening. "Uncertainty isn't always bad, you know. Sometimes it's just room for something new, something better."

You looked at her, really looked at her, and felt something shift inside you. "That's pretty wise for a 17-year-old."

She blushed a little, turning her attention back to her notebook. "Well, don't spread it around. I have a reputation to maintain. Plus, I’m almost 18."

The rest of the study session went smoothly. You’d occasionally sigh and drop your head in frustration, making Ellie stifle a giggle and demand you get back to work. You had only known her for a day and was already falling into a rhythm with her. You didn’t want to go home, but the sun was beginning to set and you wanted time to rest. Time to think about the day you had and try to make sense of it. When it was time to leave, Ellie walked you to the door.

"Thanks for coming over. It was fun," she said, her hands twisting together.

"Yeah, I had a good time too," you replied, feeling a strange mix of happiness and reluctance to leave.

As you stepped out into the cool evening air, Ellie's words echoed in your mind: "Uncertainty isn't always bad... it's just room for something new, something better." And as you walked back across the dirt path to your house, you couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, something new and better had already begun.

You walked into your room, shutting the door behind you as if to seal off the world outside. It was your sanctuary, a little haven where you could breathe, think, and just be. You tossed your backpack onto the bed and sank into your chair, letting out a sigh as you looked around. Your room was still a mix of unpacked boxes and half-arranged furniture—a physical representation of your current state of mind, unsettled yet hopeful.

Picking up your phone, you noticed you had an unread Instagram DM. Your heart skipped a beat; could it be Ellie? Unlocking your phone, you saw the message was from Ingrid. Curiosity piqued, you opened.

ingrid.xoxo: Hey there, newbie. How was your first day?

You felt strange reading her message. Like it was something you weren’t supposed to be doing. Was she just being friendly or was there something more? You quickly typed back.

y/nsworld: hey! It was a little overwhelming but good overall. how was your day? 

Almost instantly, she replied.

ingrid.xoxo: Same old, same old. But seeing a fresh face around made it more interesting. 😉

The winking emoji caught your attention. Was she flirting? A little flutter of excitement mixed with confusion settled in your stomach.

Before you could process it further, the front door opened and closed loudly. It was your mom, finally home from work. You heard her footsteps coming up the stairs, and a few seconds later, she knocked on your door.

"Come in," you called.

The door swung open and your mom stepped in, her face tired but lighting up when she saw you. "Hey, sweetheart. How was your first day at the new school?"

You looked at her and smiled. "It was good, Mom. Made some new friends, and Ellie from next door is really nice. I went there and studied after school."

"That's wonderful," she said, her eyes shining with relief. "I was so worried you'd have a hard time adjusting."

"I mean, it's still the first day, but so far, so good," you said, shrugging. The relief on your mom’s face made you uneasy. You wanted to make this transition easy for both of you, but there was a newfound pressure building inside of you. You had to make it work here, even if you were unhappy. There was no escaping this place, and you suddenly felt trapped. Before your mind could go any further, she was speaking again. 

"That's my brave girl," she said, coming over to give you a hug. "I'm so proud of you."

As she left the room and wished you a goodnight with a firm kiss pressed to the top of your head, you sat back and sighed. Your phone buzzed again. Another message from Ingrid.

ingrid.xoxo: So, got any plans for the weekend? Maybe you'd like a tour guide to show you around. 😊

There it was again, that undercurrent of something more than just friendliness. You found yourself smiling, both intrigued and uncertain. It was as if life, in its own whimsical way, was presenting new possibilities, each more complicated than the last.

You glanced back at the door, then at your phone, then at the unpacked boxes still sitting in your room. Everything felt like a question mark, and as Ellie had wisely noted, maybe that wasn't such a bad thing after all.

Lying back on your bed, you stared up at the ceiling, pondering your response to Ingrid, your new friendships, and the unpredictability of life itself. Uncertainty, as it turns out, could indeed be the room for something new, something better.

And so, with a mix of excitement and apprehension, you typed out your reply to Ingrid, hitting send before you could second-guess yourself.

y/nsworld: a tour guide sounds fun. i'm in. :) 

PRESENT DAY 

When Ellie's text popped up on your phone two days ago, you almost deleted it without reading it. The mere sight of her name on your screen was like a splinter you couldn't remove—small but persistently painful. She wrote that she missed your friendship, and though you wanted to scoff at her audacity, a part of you hesitated. Her words, "Can we at least talk? Just as friends?" echoed in your mind. Against your better judgment, a wave of nostalgia washed over you, and before you knew it, you found yourself typing, "Fine, but this doesn't mean anything." Now, as you stepped into the quaint coffee shop where so many of your past memories were brewed, you questioned that decision.

"You're early," Ellie remarked, her voice as flat as the expression on her face.

"I had nothing better to do," you responded, matching her tone as you stepped into the coffee shop. It was almost empty, the aroma of freshly ground coffee mingling with the subtle tension that had settled between you two.

"Of course, you didn't," Ellie sighed, sliding a cup of coffee your way across the wooden table. On it was marked with your order, two pumps of hazelnut, two pumps of vanilla, and one pump of almond, extra cream. 

You looked at the cup, then back at Ellie. "You remembered how I like my coffee."

"I'm not completely useless."

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip while simultaneously biting your tongue. You had every right to tell her she was useless, but you refrained. It was perfect, just the way you liked it. "What do you want, Ellie?"

Ellie sighed, looking uncomfortable for a moment before speaking, "I wanted to talk. About us."

You almost snorted into your coffee. "Us? There is no 'us'. Not anymore."

"I know I messed up, okay? But can't we at least—"

"Messed up?" you cut her off, feeling the familiar surge of anger rise within you. "You didn't just 'mess up', Ellie. You broke something. Something that can't be fixed."

Ellie flinched as if you had slapped her. The look on her face almost making you feel guilty. But she didn’t have that right anymore, and you weren’t about to let her back in.

 "I know. And I'll regret that for the rest of my life. But can't we at least try to be civil? For the sake of our friends, if not for us?"

You looked at her, really looked at her, and for a moment you were back in her living room, struggling with physics homework and discussing the uncertainties of life. Back when things were simpler, easier. But that was a different time, a different you, and most importantly, a different Ellie.

"Being civil is a far cry from what you're suggesting," you said finally, breaking the silence.

Ellie sighed. "I know I don't deserve a second chance. Hell, I don't even deserve your friendship. But can't we at least try to be... something?"

You stared at her, pondering her words. The Ellie sitting in front of you now seemed so different from the girl you had fallen for. And yet, there were moments, fleeting seconds, when you could almost see traces of the old Ellie—the one who made you laugh, who made you think, who made you feel like you were the only person in the world.

But those traces were just that—fleeting and insubstantial. The real Ellie, the one sitting in front of you, was a reminder of a chapter you had painfully closed.

"We can try," you said finally, "but I can't promise anything."

Ellie nodded, a mixture of relief and regret flashing across her face. "I guess that's all I can ask for."

As you both sipped your coffee in silence, the weight of what was left unsaid hung heavy in the air. And yet, for the first time in a long time, it felt like you could both breathe a little easier.

But as Ellie's eyes met yours, you couldn't help but wonder: in the quest for something new, something better, had you both lost something irreplaceable? There was something substantially broken between the two of you now, innocence on both parts lost. 

TWO YEARS AGO

You found yourself standing in front of your bathroom mirror, staring at your reflection as you pondered what to wear for this so-called 'tour' with Ingrid. You wondered if you should aim for casual or if Ingrid, with her meticulous style, would expect something more. After rummaging through your wardrobe, you settled on a simple pair of jeans and a loose-fitting white shirt. Casual, yet presentable. You threw on a light jacket, considering the morning chill, and took one last look in the mirror. Satisfied but not entirely confident, you grabbed your phone and headed downstairs. Your mom was sitting at the dining room table, bowl of cereal in front of her with her spoon in one hand and phone in the other.

"Going out?" Your mom looked up from her phone, her eyes scanning your outfit.

"Yeah, a girl from school is showing me around town."

"Ah, great. Text me if you need anything." Her eyes returned to her phone, but not before you caught the fleeting look of relief. There the pressure was again, and in turn your sinking stomach. 

"See you later, Mom," you said, heading for the door.

"Have fun, sweetheart!" she called out as you closed the door behind you.

As you approached Ingrid's car, you noticed her already leaning against it. She was wearing what could only be described as the epitome of 'casual chic'—ripped jeans, a designer top, and a pair of sunglasses perched effortlessly on her head. She looked up from her phone and greeted you with a broad, almost rehearsed, smile.

"Ready for your grand tour?" Ingrid inquired, her eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than you were comfortable with.

"Ready as I'll ever be," you replied, cautiously optimistic about the day ahead.

The interior of Ingrid's car was as meticulously maintained as her appearance. The leather seats were pristine, and the air was scented with something floral, bordering on overpowering. She started the engine, and you were off.

The first few minutes were filled with awkward silence. You sensed that Ingrid was waiting for you to initiate conversation, but you were too wrapped up in your thoughts to open your mouth to speak. Finally, she broke the ice.

"So, first stop, the infamous Longview Park. You'll love it—it's where everyone hangs out," she said, her voice tinged with enthusiasm that sounded slightly rehearsed.

"That sounds fun," you responded, forcing a smile.

As you drove through the town, Ingrid began to pepper you with questions. They started off harmless enough—questions about your old town, your interests, your favorite movies. But as the drive continued, the questions began to probe deeper.

"So, why did you move here? If you don't mind me asking," she added hastily, as though realizing she might be venturing into sensitive territory.

"My dad passed away. We couldn’t afford to live there anymore, so we had to move," you replied, trying to maintain composure. You had rehearsed this response, but it still felt like you were ripping off a Band-Aid every time you said it.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Ingrid responded, her voice softening for the first time that morning. But before you could reply, she was off again. "Are you seeing anyone?"

The abrupt switch in topic caught you off-guard. "Uh, no, not right now," you stammered.

"Really? Someone as hot as you? I find that hard to believe," she said, her eyes briefly meeting yours before returning to the road.

"Um, thanks," you muttered, not entirely sure how to interpret the compliment.

Ingrid seemed to take your discomfort as a cue to change the subject. "We're almost at Longview Park. It's truly the heart of our community," she declared, as if rehearsed.

As you pulled into the parking lot of Longview Park, you took a deep breath. It was time to see what this 'heart of the community' was all about.

he car rolled to a stop, and Ingrid switched off the engine, her eyes twinkling like she was unveiling a secret treasure. "And here we are—Longview Park. It's like the social hub of our high school world."

You opened the car door and stepped out, looking around. The park was sizable, dotted with large oaks and willows that offered generous shade. A playground occupied one corner, bustling with the laughter of children, while a pond shimmered peacefully in the mid-morning sun. People were everywhere—jogging, playing Frisbee, or simply lounging on the grass. It had a communal feel.

Ingrid led you along a gravel path, her steps confident and rehearsed as if she'd walked this path a thousand times before. "See that gazebo over there?" she pointed, "That's like the unofficial meet-up spot for parties and hangouts. And over there is the infamous 'Lovers' Lane' where couples go to... well, you know."

Her words were punctuated with a suggestive wink that made you feel slightly uncomfortable. You chuckled nervously, trying to dispel the awkwardness.

As you walked, you couldn't help but notice the way people looked at Ingrid—long enough to show interest but not too long to risk her noticing. She seemed to command attention effortlessly, and you couldn't tell if it was her charisma or if you were completely missing something

"Everyone loves to be here on weekends," Ingrid continued, her tone casual but her eyes scanning the area, as if looking for someone or something in particular. "It's a great place to catch up with friends or make new ones. Like we're doing right now."

She shot you a smile, the kind that was meant to be endearing but felt slightly off-mark. You returned it nonetheless. "It's a nice place. Very... lively," you said, choosing your words carefully.

As you neared the pond, you spotted a familiar face sitting on one of the benches—Cat. And next to her, unmistakably, was Ellie. They seemed engrossed in conversation, their faces inches apart. A pang of something—was it jealousy?—stabbed at you, but you quickly brushed it aside.

"Hey, look who it is!" Ingrid's voice brought you back to reality. She had followed your gaze and was now staring directly at Ellie and Cat. "Want to go say hi?"

You hesitated. The last thing you wanted was an awkward run-in, but before you could voice your concerns, Ingrid had already started walking toward them.

"Hey Cat, Ellie!" she called out, her voice unnaturally high. Both heads turned in your direction, and the range of emotions that crossed their faces in that brief moment was unsettling—surprise, confusion, and something else you couldn't quite put your finger on.

"Hey Ingrid," Ellie finally spoke, her eyes meeting yours for a fleeting second before returning to Ingrid. "What brings you here?"

"Just giving our new resident a grand tour of Longview Park," Ingrid replied, her arm casually draping over your shoulder. You felt a shiver run down your spine but chose to ignore it.

"That's nice of you," Cat chimed in, her eyes narrowing slightly as they settled on you. You couldn't tell if she was being sincere or just sizing you up.

"Yeah, it's been fun," you said, forcing a smile. But your eyes met Ellie's once more, and the unspoken words hung heavily in the air between you.

"Well, we won't keep you," Ingrid said abruptly, as if sensing the tension. "Lots more to see. Come on," she tugged at your arm lightly, and you followed her back to the path, leaving Ellie and Cat behind.

As you walked away, you felt Ellie's gaze burning into your back. You wanted to look back, to catch one last glimpse of her, but you resisted. Whatever was or wasn't happening between you and Ellie would have to wait. Right now, you were on Ingrid's turf, and you couldn't help but feel like a pawn in a much larger game.

"Shall we continue?" Ingrid asked, breaking the silence.

"Sure," you replied, but your thoughts were already miles away.

The door clicked shut as you slid into the passenger seat, your thoughts still reeling from the encounter at the park. Ingrid revved up the engine and pulled away, humming softly to the beat of the song playing on the radio. You looked over at her, everything about her seemed staged. 

"How did you like the park?" she asked, casting a quick glance in your direction.

"It was... interesting," you said cautiously. "It's a nice place, very lively. Lots of history, I imagine."

Ingrid chuckled. "Oh, you have no idea. It's like the theater of high school drama. Anything and everything happens there."

Her words hung in the air, and you couldn't help but feel like there was a deeper meaning behind them. But before you could ponder it further, your phone buzzed. Glancing down, you saw Ellie's name flash on the screen.

Ellie: hey. can we talk later?

You felt a mixed bag of emotions, but you were mostly nervous. You hadn’t taken the group's warning and hung out with Ingrid anyays. It wasn’t like she was two fingers deep inside of you, but with the way Cat and Ellie looked, it seemed that way.  You were about to type a response when you noticed Ingrid's eyes flicking toward your phone screen, then back to the road.

"Who's that?" she asked, her tone casual but her eyes betraying a hint of curiosity.

"Just a friend," you said, choosing your words carefully. "We're supposed to catch up later."

"Oh," she responded, but you could sense a change in her demeanor, a tightening around her eyes. "Well, I hope I'm not keeping you from anything important."

"No, not at all," you reassured her, quickly typing a response to Ellie. "Sure, let's talk. Text me when you're free."

As you pressed send, you couldn't help but wonder about the timing. Why did Ellie want to talk now? And what was it about? Your thoughts were interrupted by Ingrid turning up the volume on the radio, her fingers drumming rhythmically on the steering wheel.

"So," she began, breaking the momentary silence, "we've covered quite a bit today. Any highlights?"

You pondered the question. "Well, the park was a highlight, I guess. It's always good to know where people hang out. Makes me feel less like an outsider."

Ingrid smiled, but there was something about it that made you uneasy. "You're not an outsider, you know. You're just new, and new can be exciting."

"Thanks," you said, your phone buzzing again. This time it was a text from your mom asking about your day.

Feeling the need to switch gears, you asked, "So, how long have you been living here? You seem to know everyone and everything."

"Born and raised," she declared proudly. "It has its pros and cons, but I like it. And yes, I do know a lot of people, but it's not hard when you grow up here. Everyone kind of knows everyone."

"That must be nice," you said, though a part of you wondered what it would be like to have that much history in one place—so many connections, but also so many ties that could bind you.

"Yeah," she paused, her expression turning serious. "But it can also be a bit suffocating, you know? Sometimes you just want to break free, start fresh somewhere new. Like you."

You looked at her, intrigued by this sudden glimpse into her thoughts. "Well, starting fresh isn't as glamorous as it seems. It has its own ups and downs."

"True," she conceded. "But at least it's a blank slate."

Before you could respond, your phone buzzed again. Another text from Ellie.

Ellie: i really need to talk to you. it's important.

This time, you couldn't ignore the urgency in her message. Something was up, something significant. You looked up to find Ingrid watching you, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, but her tone suggested she already knew the answer.

You hesitated, weighing your options. "Actually, I might need to cut our day short. Something's come up at home."

Ingrid's eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw something flicker in them—disappointment, perhaps, or maybe something else.

"Of course," she said, finally breaking eye contact. "Life happens. Let's get you home."

You stepped out of Ingrid's car, waving goodbye as she drove off. Your phone buzzed as you approached your front door, another text from Ellie.

Ellie: can you meet me at the grind? it’s about two blocks away from our house. i can drive us back. 

 You texted back a quick "on my way" and made your way over.

Ten minutes later, you walked into The Grind, the local coffee shop where the whole town seemed to be at this moment. As you scanned the room, your eyes met Ellie's. She was seated at a corner table, her phone face down and her fingers nervously tapping a rhythm against her coffee mug.

"Hey," you greeted as you approached, pulling out the chair across from her.

"Hey," Ellie replied, her eyes meeting yours briefly before averting. "Thanks for coming."

"No problem. Sounded like it was urgent. What's up?"

"I saw you today," she began cautiously, "with Ingrid."

A knot formed in your stomach. "Yeah, she was showing me around. Why?"

Ellie hesitated, looking down at her mug, and tapping the handle. She closed her eyes for a moment, choosing her words carefully. "Be careful with her. She's not what she seems."

"I mean I heard what you guys said about her at lunc but," you replied, taking a sip of your coffee. "She seems harmless."

She sighed, running her fingers through her hair. Cut right above her shoulders, the choppy layers suited her face. "Ingrid has a way of getting close to people, and it's not always for the right reasons. I just don't want you to get hurt."

Your eyes met, and you felt a strange warmth spread through you. Ellie was concerned for you. But why? She had only known you a day. You searched her face for an answer, for anything, but you came up short.

"Do you have something against her?" you asked, not hiding your skepticism.

"No," Ellie was quick to respond, "it's not like that. I've just seen her ruin friendships, relationships. She's manipulative."

"You seem serious," you remarked, detecting a tinge of something in her voice—was it jealousy?

Ellie looked down at her mug, her fingers ceasing their tapping. "I just don't want history to repeat itself, okay?"

"History?" you questioned, leaning forward. "What happened?"

She looked up again, her eyes meeting yours again, but this time they were vulnerable, exposed. "Ingrid and I had a thing once. And it felt more serious than her ‘things’ with Cat and Dina. And let's just say it didn't end well."

Now it made sense. The hints, the caution—it was personal for Ellie.

She held your gaze, her eyes searching yours for something you couldn't name. "Also," she paused, as if weighing whether to continue, "You’re my friend now. I care about you. And I don't want to see you get hurt."

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air was thick with unspoken words.

You finally broke the silence. "Thank you for telling me, Ellie. I appreciate it."

She nodded, her eyes never leaving yours. "Yeah, yeah. Of course"

As you left The Grind, your thoughts were a swirl of confusion and clarity. Ellie's concern had added another layer to the already complicated dynamic of your new life. But through it all, one thing became clear—Ellie cared about you, maybe more than she was willing to admit.

And as you replayed the conversation in your mind, you couldn't shake the feeling that Ellie wasn't just warning you about Ingrid. She was also staking her claim, marking her territory in a landscape that was becoming increasingly complicated.

[loveemagicpeace]

💕Understanding Signs🧚🏼‍♀️

🥊Fire element-fire suggests to many the intuition function. This is because fire tends to perceive in pictures, and to get an instantaneous grasp of a situation. Fire does not reason or think in any classical sense of the word: it either understands or it doesn't. This is why fire people can be extremely creative yet not good at logical reasoning. People with a lot of fire energy have a great impulse, which is sometimes difficult to control. They often make a decision all at once and quickly. They don't like waiting.

They perceives things through pictures and sudden flashes of insight. A fire person will study something for a long time without comprehending it, and then the significance will become clear in an instant. Fire is often psychic, in the ordinary meaning of the word. Fire is the most positive or yang of all the elements. It is the energy of spirit, and operates within the universe by energizing and transforming. It is not characteristic of fire to work along lines already set, or to respond to energy patterns that are imposed from without. Fire rises: it cannot stay at one level for long. This gives fire people a dramatic, intense quality. They do not enjoy standing still.

Fire element-fire is an emotional element, but it tends toward the more active and dynamic emotions— anger, joy, ebullience, and enthusiasm. Also fire signs are very positive in everything they do. For ex.: Leo Mars - Regardless of the situation, they will always want to cheer someone up with a funny show or put on a show to make the person happy again. Leos in general always have an inner child (they will always be ready to watch cartoons with you). Sagittarius Venus-They will be the best at helping you through a difficult breakup. They always find faith in life and know how to find meaning even when it is difficult to see it. They have a special charm with which they always bring people good mood and instill hope. They will never stop believing. Aries Sun- will always be ready for action. They are not afraid of dangerous things and like something that is more risky. They are the only sign that is rarely afraid, usually they will be the ones who will be the bravest. They have harder time dealing with sadness, depression, or the kind of feeling that comes from quiet contemplation of one's surroundings.

Fire people do not like to show sadness or grief: their typical response is to make fun of their own unhappiness. Even when they are down, they are often capable of making others feel better. Being an outgoing, positive energy, fire does not easily play passive roles.

Earth element- earth signs are most concerned with perceiving an external, physical reality. But earth is not simply concerned with perceiving it, it is also concerned with ordering it in the way that is most effective in a given situation. Earth signifies concern with the physical, with practical, common-sense matters. Earth is a symbol for direct sense experience of the physical universe, without ideas, concepts, beliefs, or wishful thinking to cloud perception. Thus matter, and through it the symbol earth, signifies limits to our freedom in which regard the element earth is related to the planet Saturn).

Unlike fire, earth is stable, the most stable of all the elements. Also unlike fire, earth is passive: it needs to be acted on and formed by an external energy. For earth people to be really productive, there must be a positive, assertive energy provided by the planetary combinations in their charts.Otherwise, the earth type of personality remains passive.

Taurus is a sign who will give you a lot, spoil you, buy you gifts, take you to a luxury hotel, take care of you. They do a lot related to money. They are a sign that will spoil you with material things and may not be so creative themselves. But they also know how to be selfish and stubborn and do not care about your feelings.

Earth tends to resist change, and it can signify structures that break down under pressure because they lack the flexibility that allows adaptation.Earth signifies making do with what is available. Earth people are adept at dealing with the details that must be attended to in everyday reality in order to make it work effectively. Being a relatively passive element, earth perceives better than fire. Earth people are usually close to their gut reactions to life. Inner experience is valued less highly by the earth temperament, because earth tends to focus its perceptions externally.

Virgo and Capricorn especially are inclined to sacrifice emotional needs when these come into conflict with their view of reality. Although Capricorn looks like a cold sign and people wouldn't expect it to have so many emotions and make sacrifices for others - in fact it does. Capricorns often sacrifice their time for the people they love and can build a relationship for years and years, even if it ends up not being what they might have wanted. A Capricorn can have a lot of work and responsibilities, but still finds time to see you or cook you lunch, do something practical for you. Virgo it is often seen as a judgmental and sometimes not so accessible sign (a sign that gives you the feeling that they don't like something or that they are angry). But in reality, they are a sign that cares a lot about others-they will always be ready to take care of you.

Air element-Like fire, air may be more concerned with things that are not yet real, that are abstract and unrelated to a given reality. Air is as concerned with the relationship of things in the outer world as earth is, but air is more interested in abstractions. The difference between the symbols fire and air can be seen in the difference in the behavior of actual fire and wind. Fire rises, whereas wind moves horizontally.

Like fire, air can become so involved in abstractions that it loses touch with physical reality and practical considerations. But unlike fire, air hovers just above the Earth's surface, so that though it is fond of abstractions, the abstractions are closer to physical reality than those of fire. Air is associated with thinking and logic, and as such it is less personal than fire. Fire is usually connected with the vital, personal drive, or the will, and the abstractions are one's personal abstractions. But air, which has a social, external conception of truth, is more inclined to abstractions that have little to do with the individual.

In this way air is similar to earth: both are primarily concerned with a reality external to the self. Fire and water are more concerned with personal, inward kinds of truth.

Air always has a strongly social quality. All three air signs have to do with relating to others— Gemini to the immediate world through mind and speech, Libra through achieving perfect balance within a one-to-one relationship, and Aquarius through group consciousness and interaction.Air lacks fire's ability to go off on its own to be itself.

Aquarius as a sign of revolution, it is related to revolutionary movements, not non-conforming individuals, thinking in a different way, breaking the rules. Aquarius desire freedom to impose their ideals on society as a whole. Gemini they like to open different topics, talk long into the night. Their thoughts are quick and unpredictable. But they often have problems with getting attached to someone. Although air is very social, it is sometimes unable to handle real intimacy well. This is because air operates extensively, rather than intensively.

Libra is the only air sign in which the drive for close, personal relationships is strong, but even here there is a detached, non-intimate quality often obscured by the cleverness of the sign.

Water element presents the greatest difficulty. But even though water may feel good or bad much more quickly and sensitively than the other elements, it is no more judgmental as to whether something may be good, bad, pleasant, or unpleasant. Of the four elements, water is in some ways the most difficult to understand. Water is the most yin of the four elements, and the most bound up in the maternal, feminine archetype which is so poorly expressed in our culture.

Strongly watery people who comprehend this element from first-hand experience cannot readily communicate what they comprehend. Water people are poor at communication or unwilling to communicate. It is just that what they have to communicate is extremely difficult to put into words.

Scorpio communication is difficult because water represents non-linear, non-rational, non-discriminative modes of thought-the very antithesis of air. Fire and water both represent non-rational functions, but fire has more to do with sudden, lightning-like comprehension, whereas water has a subtle, feeling- toned understanding that comes into being at no particular point, seeming rather to have existed always.

Water is the best at feeling relationships and the ways every thing interacts with every other thing. Water may see and understand in a way that is hard for the other elements, especially air, to comprehend, but it sees very well.Often the best way for water to communicate is by means of art, especially poetry and music. Water people usually are artistic. Another factor that sometimes places a barrier between water and other elements is that water experience is very personal. In this respect water is nearer to fire, and more distant from air and earth. Water people's personal experience can be so vivid that external reality fades into insignificance beside it.

Pisces are very artistic and also the most dreamy sign of all water signs.They have their heads in the clouds most of the time and are also the sign that is the most naive. Cancer is the most family-oriented and caring sign. A sign that also prefers to spend time with people close to it. They like to be in their comfort zone. Scorpio is the most mysterious, the sign that fights the most. Is also the most private sign and doesn't like to share his stuff with others. It is a sign that has a problem with trust. Scorpio is also very deep sign.

Water is a symbol of empathy. Empathy is the ability to feel what another feels as if one were that other person. A water person understands feelings and emotions better than any other elemental type, and is capable of great emotional depth and compassion for others. Men in particular have a problem with the water parts of their nature because watery qualities are so out of accord with masculinity. Water people often have stronger ties with the past, a stronger involvement with familiar people, places, and situations. In a strong water person there is the protective, maternal streak; in a weak water person, there can be emotional grasping and possessiveness. Water has a need to self-dramatize like fire; but unlike fire, water is willing to take other people's emotions seriously as well.

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

-Rebekah💍🦋🌙

[fleet-of-fiction]

Josh Kiszka // Female Reader

Summary: After meeting Josh at a spiritual development group, your friendship intensifies after an evening of intimate meditation. He insists on showing you the room where he likes to do most of his incantations. And there, what transpires is the most mind blowing sex you've ever had.

Warnings: Spiritual sex. Foreplay and penetration. A little dirty talk.

He just wouldn't stop talking.

You knew his voice was going to echo into your dreams that night, talking about the universe and how mankind simply hasn't tapped into the spiritual knowledge at its fingertips. He spoke fluently about opening consciousness to the vast spaces and dimensions of existence. It didn't seem impossible the way he said it could be achieved. But still, it had been almost an hour since he had first opened his mouth and you could feel your eyelids begin to grow heavy. Not through boredom, but for the fact the hour was almost at midnight.

"Well?"

Your eyes flutter open, as if straining against the need to close them. Josh is looking at you expectantly with all the enthusiasm he carried into the evening when it was a more reasonable hour.

"I'm sorry, what?" You muster, coming back to your senses.

He muses over you. With immediate realisation that you're exhausted.

"I asked if you'd like to meditate with me sometime." He repeated, in a quieter tone.

His face carried with it all the sweetness of a child-like innocence. A smile that shrouded a row of pearly white teeth and a solitary dimple in his left cheek. Whisps of hair above his lip sat, almost twitching, as his smile changed from child-like to coy.

"I'd love to." You respond, as excitedly as you can, given your tiredness. "When?"

Josh had crept into your life on tiptoes. His shy demeanour had meant you didn't notice him at first, sitting at the back of the Spiritual Development group you'd been attending in an attempt to combat the grief which had burdened you for so long. But when finally, he'd found the courage to raise his hand and offer his insight, you'd taken note of him in far more detail than you usually afforded.

You began to grow excited for each meet, your heart a beating mess as you realised that sometimes he would be there and sometimes he would be wholly absent. The days on which he was absent you sat in a melancholy you couldn't fathom, listening to the others in their wisdom and wishing it was his you basked in. Until, when you had given up on him returning, he appeared in the doorway in his usual white sweater and beige jeans and the universe spoke to you for the very first time.

Since that moment it had been a flurry of musings. You, hanging on to his every word and he in return giving you space to be vocal about your grief. Your friendship had been born through these tangible moments and when he'd asked you to start meeting up away from the group it was inevitable that you'd find yourself on the edge of love.

Josh was not a constant in your life, though. His absences were long and drawn out, peppered with long winded text messages from the road he travelled. You, staring at your phone in the dark reading them like a novel you never wanted to put down. If love was beginning to stir, you took the spoon from the pot and hoped it bubbled away to nothing.

"Not tonight." He said, breaking into your reverie. "I can see how tired you are."

He leaned forward across the table and began to blow out the centre candles. He gathered his books and went to return them to the shelf.

"I am tired." You agreed. "But I find myself not wanting to leave."

His bashfulness piqued. A rosy hint emerged on his cheeks as he put the books back onto the table and in the new darkness tried to seek out your face.

"You are always leaving." You add, the darkness giving you a boldness to speak more honestly.

You see his outline shift weight from one leg to the other. "I always return."

He seems to have retreated to his initial shyness. You hear his breath grow shallow and wonder if you should approach. You have never known Josh deny himself the touch of another, offering hugs and comforting arm squeezes to your fellow group members. If you approached him you were certain he wouldn't shrink from you.

"Why can't we meditate tonight, then?" You ask, rising from your chair with only the distant lights from the street outside penetrating the window blind to guide you.

He turned his head to watch your shadow. Josh had never given you any indication that he wanted more save for his requests that you join him at his home on evenings when you should have been attending the group.

He had welcomed you in and brought you a steaming bowl of soup that his brother had made over the course of three days. So the story went. You'd eaten together and discussed the vast differences between spirituality and religion. Even his text messages, as prolific as they were, included nothing but the thoughts which occurred to him on lonely nights in hotel rooms. None of the thoughts ever made you think he was anything but your friend.

You knew your feelings had come about completely unwanted. Sprung forth from him simply being who he was and your desire to attach yourself to him. Josh was a source of sunshine in dark times. Even as you stood together at the dining table, the darkness seemed to dissipate around him.

"I thought you might want to go home and get some sleep." He offered, stiffening against your movements around the table to stand at his side.

Your eyes adjusted a little. You could see him now, his face peering at you in wonder.

"The next time you go away I'll have to wonder if we will ever meet like this again. And I'll ache for you, as I have ached for you all the other times you were gone from me. So, if it's all the same, I'd like to meditate with you tonight. Just in case." Your words fall out without process.

His wonderment remained etched on his face as you notice his Adams apple move with a deep swallow. His brown eyes lift to meet your blue, the air between the two of you heating up as if the candles were still alight.

"You ache for me?" He asked, as if the notion had never occurred to him.

There was truly no way to ascertain if Josh was ever aware of how he made people feel. His vibration was love itself and you knew there were thousands of people in the world who saw him for precisely who he was, if only from afar, and loved him in return.

Because, despite the ache it left, Josh lived for taking his message on the road and the two parts of his life could meet for the briefest of moments. You existed in that quiet part of his life that he sought out when the lights went out and the crowds went home. You'd known for a long time that him being his brothers' band was his own little universe. You just wished, sometimes, that you could be a part of the loud in his life.

"If I confess that I do, will you leave again?" You ask tentatively.

He breathed in deeply and shook his head. "We're not due back on tour for another week."

That wasn't what you meant. But he seemed so bashful you giggled at his sentiment. Immediately he was put at ease and seemed to return to being the man you had come to know and love. Except, with an edge you had not expected.

He took your hand and moved you through his house, through the corridors and up a set of spiral stairs that wound up towards a room that sat at the top of the building. Adorned with a twinkle of fairy lights and plush bean bags, on the walls hung pieces of art ranging from things he'd had commissioned and pieces he had acquired from his travels. Your breath catches as you begin to understand the beauty of this room.

"I only meditate here alone, you're the first person to join me." He said, gesturing you to sit on the floor.

You catch his scent as he sits across from you, cross legged and your knees just grazing each other. The lighting is low enough to be able to discern his facial features, but enough to keep your confidence cloaked. He shakes his hands out as if his palms are sweating and you see his nerves for the first time.

"I'm honoured." You say, realising you haven't responded to him in words.

He nods absently. "Well, you know, it's a nice place. I like to come here when I'm home and just do some breath work or even just take a nap or something. I really felt like this room deserved to be a dedicated space, you know, when I bought it. I wish I could be here more often, but you know, it's probably going to get used a lot more once the tour ends."

His nervous use of 'you know' is not lost upon you. You watch him wipe his palms on his thighs and take cursory glances at you. Your honesty has only served to make you calmer. You are in no doubt, now, that he knows how you feel about him.

"Josh?" You say, placing your hands upon his.

His body flinches. A reaction so completely unlike anything he has ever shown you before that doubt begins to creep in. There is no way to take it back, no way to remove your hands without the action being felt. Whatever it was that you were about to say is immediately lost. You were going to comfort him and tell him that he need not be nervous with you. But suddenly you are in your own head, feeling nothing but his body stiffen against your touch.

"I'm sorry." He manages, reaching out to bring your hands further into his. "Please forgive me."

"Have I done something..." You begin, afraid now.

In the pit of your stomach a sickness begins to churn. Josh shakes his head erratically, frantically trying to find the words he needed but for the first time failing to form a sentence which made any sense. He looks at you as if looking at a starry night. Seeking out new points of light amongst the ones which have always been there.

"No, never." He says in a perfunctory whisper. "You have brought such peace to my life; I had never thought to try and break it. Perhaps I should have?"

Your knees were touching now. Your hands intertwined and the previous stiffness which had brought you to your doubts was now slowly dissipating. He eased into your touch like he had known it in lifetimes which stretched out long before this.

You smile at him in the twinkle of the lights above. "I'll always be your peace, Josh. I promise."

He closes his eyes against your words. "And I will always be yours."

You instinctively fall into a pattern of breathing that links the two of you into a trance like state. You feel his hands still within yours, but the room falls away until you are completely separated from your body. You hear the sync of his breath with yours, but from a position above. He is here with you in this space. You can feel that warmth envelope you. You can feel that familiar vibration hanging in the air above your connected bodies.

In this realm, he is free of his mortal coil and any part of him that knows fear. You can hear his voice, as you knew you would in dream, saying fuck fear... the echo of it resonating through you like mist on the city streets. All you can feel is him. All of him. All his rampant insecurities laid bare, telling you his love is yours.

You gasp as you feel him pulling you back to your body, with an urgency you had never known could be his. Opening your eyes, you realise your knees are no longer touching and both your legs are outstretched. Yours lay on top of his, open and your heart chakras level with one another. His eyes are seeking you out, as if he has brought you to this moment purposefully.

"You must know I ache for you, too." He says, keeping his voice low and soft. "Day and night when we are apart."

You feel yourself a little dizzy and he responds with a comforting touch, resting his forehead against yours in the most intimate way. You and Josh have never drawn yourselves this close to one another in the physical realm. Whatever words of wisdom you may have exchanged during the course of your friendship, it was nothing compared to the wisdom he shared with you now as he silently laid his hand against your pale cheek.

"If I didn't know it, I do now." You breathe.

He smiles that devastating grin, all teeth and solitary dimple. "I'd like to try something, if I may?"

You nod your approval, and he leans back, pulling off his shirt to reveal a sculpted chest and arms that you hadn't known he would possess beneath the loose fitted clothes he chose to wear. Immediately, your mind goes to where his has gone already and you peel off your halter neck to bring your flesh together as one.

His eyes move down towards your breasts. He makes no apology in the way he studies them. Taking in the gooseflesh around your nipples, the way you hope he is satisfied. He licks his lips and returns his gaze to your eyes, his breath laboured beneath half closed eyes.

"You know, there are several benefits to meditating naked." He says, almost playfully. "It can give you a much greater awareness of your senses."

You decide to edge towards him, bringing your breasts to his chest. "I think I read somewhere that being physically naked allows you to be naked in all other aspects."

He raised a speculative eyebrow, as if he knew where this was going. The two of you justify it in languid reasoning, until you are stood opposite each other with your hands tackling belt buckles and buttons.

Stripped of your clothes, you stand, taking in the sight of each other. You notice a trail of hair leading down from his navel that meets the rest of his pubic hair. You like the way it looks in the low light, the way he dresses to the right and it rests upon his thigh. His body excites you in a way you've never felt before, impulses of warmth and ecstasy rushing through your veins making your heartbeat faster.

His eyes rest on your core. He drinks you in, moving from your breasts to your hands which are clasped together in front of your vulva. He makes a cautionary gesture, to move your hands away, and you can't help but oblige. His eyes widen as your arms come to rest at your sides. He feels your nerves as he feels his own.

"Don't be afraid." He instructs. "I have thought about this from the moment I first saw you."

His confession felt like a blow to the abdomen. It filled you up with a sense of astonishment. That he had been able to hide such a thing was astounding. His melodic voice, his graceful movements and the way you never caught him looking at you unguarded. He was a careful vessel. Never revealing anything of himself until the precise moment he intended.

You knew yourself to be somewhat more of a creature of instinct. Your glances had been caught and measured; you were sure of it. You were unable to hide the intrinsic feelings that were forming for him. You could feel them now, moistening between your legs as he continued to look at you.

"Shall we?" You ask.

He bids you to sit back down in your former positions. Legs outstretched, yours upon his and your torsos unflinchingly close. Now that your bodies were laid bare, your opening rested against his hardness as you brought yourself as close to him as you could.

His mouth and yours sought each other out, your arms rested gently on his shoulders as his found their way to your waist. You'd seen this position illustrated in a book you'd read years ago. You recalled how it could bring your souls together, on the physical plane and the spiritual.

Josh was fighting against the urge to kiss you; you sensed it as his lips inched closer to yours under the guise of sharing breath. His lips parted, taking yours with them and without thinking the tips of your tongues collided. A delicious moan escaped your lips, and Josh took the kiss deeper.

With his hands on your hips, he helped you to begin moving against him. Back and forth, your wet parting sliding against his hard length. Not for one moment did he pull away from your first kiss. His arms reached up, pulling you in closer so that your lower lips were pressed against his pubic hair, his hard penis resting to the side. The feel of his skin against yours sent electrical pulses through your body.

There had never been a time when you had imagined how it would be with Josh that you could have ever known it would be like this. There was no part of you that could have been prepared for the complete breakdown of your senses that you gave to him willingly. There was no part of you which did not belong to him now.

"Beautiful..." You hear him say, breathless and between his mouth finding yours once more.

His lips move to your arched neck, craving his touch as you pull your hair to the side. The feeling that you can't bear to go another moment without him inside you begins to build. First in your stomach and then lower, as your clit begins to throb in anticipation.

This is not meditation. You don't care to give it a name as you push his body back, forcing him onto the palms of his hands. You rise slowly, careful to keep his gaze locked. He can't help but falter and trail a look down your body as you take his cock in your hand and feel him leak into your grasp.

"I want you inside me." You tell him, "Connected. Now and always."

He does not speak. There is an audible gasp as he tilts his head back, revealing his throat and somehow the sight of it spurs you on. As you guide him inside of you, his hands grip at your hips, fingertips digging into your flesh. The sensations of him filling you is more than you can take.

You moan, not softly nor with caution, raising your voice until he sinks his teeth into your jawline. Your legs inch around, bringing you to your knees. You begin to move up and down, sliding your entire body against him so that your breasts ease against his neck and face.

Panting now, he makes tiny kisses against you as you move. Sweat building, you can feel it on your brow as you move your hair back and run an errant hand through his wet curls. His face is a joyous red, completely lost and bound to you now.

"Josh..." You release his name as if you have never spoken it before.

He responds in a way that takes the breath from your lungs. He thrusts upward, making sure his full-length hits you hard. Your name escapes his lips in a low, authorative hiss and you reel back so that he can look down and see himself pound into you.

He'd always called you something nobody else ever had. A name he created just for you, when he had caught you scouring the self-help books on grief in the library where the Spiritual Development group had their meetings.

"Goddess...."

You know he is nearing orgasm as he begins to move faster, his lips seeking out one of your breasts to suck and to bear his teeth against your hard nipple. You grind down harder, quicker and tell him to suck on you harder as you feel the stirrings of your own orgasm begin to build.

"Inside me..." You mutter, in a voice not entirely your own.

Your instruction leaves him without choice. His body shudders into another realm, taking you with him. You rise above your own body. He holds you close, spurting inside you. But all you can feel is his essence. Warm and comforting. You can feel your own wetness mixed with his, as you come down onto your knees and hold his heaving body to yours. He is not quite returned, and you feel his reluctance to let go.

"It's ok..." You whisper.

You're not quite certain if you are telling him or yourself. When finally, he looks up at you, covered in sweat, the sweetness of his face brings you back to that moment when you first laid eyes on him.

"Are you ok?" He asks, resting his hot cheek against your breast.

You nod and run sweaty fingers through his hair, cradling him to you as you calm down. You feel him swallow hard, trying to stabilise his breathing. Somehow it still feels as if you're not quite within yourself just yet.

When he pulls out, you feel your body jerk and the reality of what you have done hits. You begin to wish you had not opened that portal. You feel that familiar ache creep in, even though he is in your arms and not thousands of miles away.

He seems to pick up on your reluctance immediately and pulls you into a sweet kiss where you can taste the salt of his sweat.

"My Goddess..." He croons. "Don't pull away from me."

Tears begin to spill down your cheek. Unabashedly and without guilt. He holds you. You are safe. The grief you have been trying to combat takes its leave of you, in it's place only a sense of hope that wasn't there before.

You hear Josh tell you to stay with him.

"Where else would I be?" You ask, allowing him to wipe your tears with his thumb.

"I don't know." He replies, almost casually in a way that allows you to know that you are back in the reality of your everyday life. "Sometimes you go somewhere, and I can't follow."

There's a glint in his eye that wasn't there before as you meet his gaze as someone who now knows him a way no other could. The intimacy that remained let you know he had no intention of closing that opened portal. It was yours and his. To enter whenever you chose.

"Not anymore." You tell him earnestly, your previous tiredness returning to your bones. "I promise, I wont go anywhere where you cannot follow."

He planted a solitary kiss on the end of your nose. "I make that same promise."

You know of what he speaks, but the disbelief courses through you all the same. There's a wry smile brewing on his lips as he plants a succession of more kisses on the end of your nose.

"I quite like getting your text message novels." You say, "I can't say I won't miss them."

A laugh escapes his lips, throwing his head back in obvious joy. "You can hear me speak them instead."

You knew, in your heart, that he just wouldn't stop talking.

.

.

.

@caprisunsister @thewritingbeforesunrise @takenbythemadness @katuschka @its-interesting-van-kleep @lvnterninthenight @writingcold @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @edgingthedarkness @velveteencatch @lyndz2names @nina-23-45 @itsafullmoon y @char289 @dancingcarbon @gvfpal @violetstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @jazzyfigz @gvfmarge @ignite-my-fire

[lackadaisycats]

Hi Tracy, i wanted to ask a somewhat personal question. How do you deal with losing beloved pet? I recently lost my 9-year-old tortie a month ago to kidney failure and GDV and even though i still got three other babies to dote for (and they're all lovely), it's really hard to feel as much love as i did with my tortie. She was my first cat and was incredibly loving and patient with, helped me immensely while grieving for my father's passing a few years ago.

With her gone, it really does feel like a lot of me also went with her. It makes living very hard. I made tiny sculpture and wood soldering in her memory but i don't really know how to deal with the actual emptiness inside me. Sorry for the word vomit but i figured since you also lost a precious cat before, you might have insight for this situation

I'm so sorry for the loss of your beloved tortie.

I don't have any special skills for dealing with death, really, but I suppose I can speak a bit about personal experience.

I think it's natural to feel a yawning emptiness when something so intimately intertwined in your life - a constant companion, a source of joy, something around which your daily schedule is structured - is suddenly gone. It can be a very lonely sort of grief too, as the loss of a pet doesn't generally come with the same community and ritual that human death does. To others, your dear companion was perhaps just an animal. Not to equate it with human death in the broader scheme, exactly, but it can mean personal devastation, compounded by being alone in coping with it. Societally, we probably do ourselves some significant harm believing we must rapidly "get over" losses like this.

There's no getting-over-it that I know of, anyway, but there is the knowledge that the nature of grief changes over time (it sounds like you're no stranger to that). The stormy waves that knock you about with the immensity of the loss gradually give way to more placid waters. The sadness remains, but grows gentler and maybe sweeter even, because it creates a quiet space to reflect on the pet that enriched and graced a chapter of your life with their presence.

In the meantime, while awaiting some peace, I personally find there's an analgesic effect to making the feelings of grief actionable. The meditative nature of art and the act of memorializing a companion animal won't fill in that void, but it can help you start to process and accept it, to find a way to transmogrify it into a repository for your feelings and memories of love. I'd say keep making sculptures, make a scrapbook, draw a picture of her - anything, if it puts you in a different state of mind as you're doing it.

Looking after animals that are in need of care and attention in the moment, even if you feel emotionally distant, might help you regain some footing too. Setting up shelters for feral cats and fostering rescues are some things I like to do. There's a sort of grounding, self-rescue interwoven in focusing some energy on the living.

Most of all, grant yourself time. Do yourself the kindness of not feeling bad about feeling bad. Mourn without believing you must rush to find a cure for the sadness.

If, however, you are suffering or finding it impossible to function day to day, please do reach out to seek qualified counseling.

[attichaos]

Colour Magick Correspondences & Ideas

*longer read*

Pretty easily applied for both beginner, closet and experienced practitioners alike! Can be used in most areas of mundane and magickal life (with some ideas listed below).

White

→ Cleansing, clarity, blessing, healing, innocence, truth, connection to spirits or the spiritual world, divine connection, consecration, dream work, psychic connection, purity, rest, moon magic, angelic work, devotion, harmony, prayer, peace, purification, universal truths. White can also be used as an all-purpose color for your intention when the color you want is not available.

Black

→ Banishing, transformation, uncrossing, endings, domination, protection, reversing, repulsion, freedom from evil, cursing, cloaking, sophistication, security, emotional safety, closure, breaking patterns, grief, mourning, absorbing, removing, trapping, encasing, the unconscious, mystery, shielding from the evil eye, *similarly to white - as black is an absence of colour it can be used for any colour if you don’t have them available* - personal opinion

Red

→ Passionate love, energy, action, attraction, sexuality, magnetism, will, force, anger, fire within, courage, warmth, lust, drive, pleasure, vitality, vigor, excitement, desire.

Orange

→ New opportunities, new ventures, new beginnings, change of plans, encouragement, opening the way, removing blocks, physical comfort, warmth, security, ambition, creativity, courage, optimism.

Yellow

-> Optimism, prosperity, happiness, good luck, attraction, success, confidence, visibility, fame, self-esteem, communication, concentration, focus, inspiration, intellect, logic, memory, knowledge, learning.

Green

→ Prosperity, abundance, wealth, generosity, money luck, career, growth, fertility, gambling luck, business, a good job, harmony, balance, healing, self-love, altruism, universal love, contact with fae and nature spirits.

Blue

→ Reconciliation, harmony, peace, kindness, healing, ideas, intelligence, wisdom, loyalty, sleep, meditation, communication, creativity, dream work, trust, blessings, calm, forgiveness, truth, bliss, inspiration, fidelity, honesty.

Purple

→ Healing, calming, tranquility, spirituality, meditation, pacification, cooperation, sensitivity, compassion, empathy, selflessness, empowerment, controlling, commanding, mastery, power, ambition, achievement, charisma, luxury, expansion, psychic ability, spirituality, authenticity, truth, transformation, insight, justice, wisdom, politics, divination, ESP, intuition, wishes, influence.

Pink

→ Romantic love, friendship, soul mates, sweet feelings, emotional healing, heart connection, affection, family love, admiration, physical tranquility, nurturing, warmth, youthfulness, healing grief, compassion, forgiveness, beauty, unconditional love.

Brown

→ Justice, balance, grounding, court cases, legal matters, being down-to-earth, practical matters, seriousness, reliability, support, stability, safety, earth, nature, animals, home, nostalgia, basic needs being met, balance.

Grey

→ Neutrality, neutralizing, invisibility, working in “gray areas,” anonymity, hiding from others, working in-between worlds, secrets, occult and arcane wisdom, reversing, uncovering mysteries and secrets, lifting curses, undoing prior spell work.

Silver

→ Dreams, intuition, psychic work, courtesy, honor, moon magic, rhythm, cycles, divination, illusions, glamour spells, wisdom.

Gold

→ Prosperity, fame, luxury, generosity, optimism, wisdom, enlightenment, victory, sun magic, confidence, life force, power, attraction, magnetism, vigor, charisma.

*highly recommend Madame Pamita’s Book of Candle Magic - covers colour magic especially in relation to spell work with candles.

Ideas

→ candle magick

→ glamour magick - also wearing/makeup using a colour which corresponds to the property you desire (good for closet witches)

→ sigil magick

→ craft magick

→ kitchen witchery - eg. Putting a specific colour food dye in a cake or drink etc

(Essentially anything you want!)

Merry meet,

Atti <3

[moonlight-prose]

HURT

➝ 05. MIDNIGHT DOVE

a/n: i never thought it would take a year to finally work up the courage to finish this. i swear it's been marinating in my mind for months. life got in the way as it always does, and well shit happens, but i am gradually attempting to return to this world. if you're new here, welcome. if you're someone who has been here since the beginning, then thank you for sticking my horrible productivity out. i swear i won't disappear again. hopefully.

dedicated to: @themarcusmoreno for being an absolute badass fighter as of late. i hope you know how proud i am of you babes and how much i adore you. a special thanks to @sunflowersteves who has been a MASSIVE supporter of this story. i love you babes! and to @soulores who has listened to me ramble about this fic for hours in the hopes inspo would strike again. te amo te amo te amo!!!

summary: joel never made opening himself up to the prospect of love easy, but when it came to you...it felt like taking a breath of fresh air for the first time in years.

word count: 14k+ (i'm fucking insane)

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, cussing, fluff, joel attempting to be romantic, ptsd, grief, deep talks (joel opens up), joel finally telling the truth, p in v sex, choking kind of, roughness, biting lots of biting (both kinds hahaha), tad bit of violence, the dangers of falling in love.

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It was easy to forget how damaged you were in the midst of his affection. An effortless act to allow yourself a chance to heal as you gave yourself over to him. For brief moments, you weren’t the person who had gone through years of pain, suffered through grief so potent you could taste it. You were the person who could sink into his hold, lose yourself in his touch, and simply exist.

With Joel there was no pain, no reminders of what you didn’t have—what you could never get back—because he took all that away. He gave you the one thing you didn’t know you were searching for. Yourself. In whispered words beneath the midnight sky, you found the reflection you’d been so afraid to look at. You saw the person who had been torn apart by the brutality of this world, by the prospect of death you could no longer run from.

He pieced you back together with his hands, attempting to rid you of all those cracks and crevices where pain seeped out from.

And in doing so, he saved you.

“You used to be a contractor right?” you asked, trying not to huff and puff as you trailed after him through the woods.

Briefly you thought you caught the sight of tall buildings in the distance, but played it off as the sun messing with your eyes again. A few days ago the truck broke down, ruining the quick pace of travel you had gotten used to. Which left you both with one option. Walking until your feet were numb and bloody. You hadn’t missed the energy this took, suddenly yearning for trains and planes—anyway to get to Boston as quickly as possible.

Except you didn’t hate it entirely. The bonus was being able to spend more time with him in secluded areas. You liked studying him by firelight, talking with him underneath the stars. Joel was the one who kept you going in spite of the agonizing effort this took. Thankfully the moments you did run into any infected were brief and quick—simply another crack in the bubble you’d built around yourselves.

Something had shifted between the two of you. Changed the tides of your futures and gave you insight into what might be possible once you got to Boston. You saw hints of a life that you might not have seen before. A future with him. You only hoped that he was seeing the same picture you were.

“Mhm,” he hummed, pausing to let you catch up, his hand reaching for yours.

“Impressive,” you said with a smile, pressing your chin on his shoulder as he leaned against a tree. Giving the both of you a small breather before you started up again.

“It paid the bills.”

“Well yeah. But it’s also a cool job. Getting to build things.”

He grinned, his eyes tracing the shapes and contours of your face. “I guess it was.”

“What made you want to be a contractor?” You caught the way he paused at your question, his eyes unable to meet yours for a brief moment. Joel thought he was able to hide his pain so well, behind an impenetrable mask he never removed. But you saw it.

You were the only one who split it down the middle; revealing the man beneath for your eyes to see.

“Uh,” he mumbled. “It was good work. Kept me stable.”

“Joel? Did I say something?”

He shook his head. “We should keep going,” he said, pressing a light kiss to your temple, his lips lingering a bit longer than usual.

Any other person would play that off as Joel being Joel. Yet you felt the tremor in his chest when he took in a breath. You saw the way he placed another brick in his never-ending wall. One that he didn’t want you to break. Frowning slightly, you walked beside him, glancing to see if he would finally revert back to the man from moments ago, but he was lost to the ravages of his mind.

You knew it would take awhile for him to come back to you. So, you waited. You lost yourself in your own thoughts, watching the birds fly through the trees, the sun peeking through the branches and bathing you in warmth. Thankfully the cold was starting to fade with each passing day. Giving way to the weather you liked most. You wanted to ask Joel where you were—which state you crossed into—but he was still gone.

Reliving the moment he hadn’t told you about yet.

You stopped when the forest gave way to a road and finally caught sight of what was in the distance. Only to realize…the sun hadn’t been playing tricks on you.

Skyscrapers stood tall against the sky, the cityscape so famous and iconic you could pick it out from memory. It was ruined from the past, some buildings had fallen from the decay, but you felt your heart flutter nonetheless. New York City. You’d been traveling through the state this whole time and never knew. Your younger self ached in the back of your mind; the one place you had been striving to get to, now arriving too late.

Yet still…you were there. Staring at what could have been your future once upon a time.

“We’re in New York,” you said, your voice tinged in disbelief. 

Joel seemed to have been brought back by your stunned reaction, his lips pulling up into a small smirk. “Thought you would have liked to take this way.”

You whirled around to face him, your eyes wide with surprise. “But what about infected? Won’t they be—”

“They bombed most of the city when the infection hit. Took out the worst parts first.” He pointed to the direction of where you assumed the Empire State building once stood. “No one has been here for nearly a decade. They tried to have a QZ on the outskirts at one point I think.”

“And how did that go?” Although you already knew the answer. Simply another repeat of every major city in this country.

He sighed. “They wound up bombing that too.”

“So we’re going around?” you asked, knowing that the only safe possibility was skirting the edges of the city. But a part of you hoped that for once you and Joel could pretend to be normal humans again.

People who at one point in their lives…might have taken a trip to New York City.

“Well…” His hesitation caught your attention. “We’re gonna go around as much as we can, but there’s somethin’ there that still survived all this. So if we’re careful. Then it should be alright.”

You felt the breath catch in your chest. A sliver of hope flickering warm and bright through your body. “And if it’s not…alright?”

“Then we handle it,” he replied, his hand shifting to cup your cheek, thumb running along your skin. “Like we always do.” Those words alone nearly made those three words slip free from your mouth. “What do you say Boston,” he murmured, his head dipping down—lips brushing along yours. “Wanna take a trip to New York with me?”

There were infected everywhere you went, never being able to escape them entirely. That alone weighed your answer towards it being positive. Still you were wary about what could happen. What could go wrong in the midst of your happiness? It seemed that life never changed when things were already awful. The worst only hit when you were finally at peace, content with what you had.

You should have said no, should have told him it wasn’t safe, but his brown eyes held a hopeful glint in them. A look that you recognized. For the first time, the both of you were finally starting to heal from the horrid effects of this life. It was a tragedy that would never be written down. A play not yet finished.

Which ultimately made the decision for you.

How did you want things to end? With a smile on your face, spending time with the man you loved? Or alone.

“Lead the way Texas,” you said softly, dropping your forehead to his chest, feeling him kiss your head softly before he pulled away.

The trip to get into the city would take a day or two, which meant that you had to set up camp for the night. At least until the sun rose enough to guide you. Venturing back into the forest with him, you felt the lightness in your heart spread down throughout your body. A sensation that you longed to hold onto.

You couldn’t recall the last time you’d been this happy; the feeling almost effortless amidst the pain and destruction of your past. It nearly overflowed, spilling out into the area around you filled with never ending darkness. Joel’s footsteps were heavy against the fallen leaves. As if he was no longer afraid to make noise. Now that the path was clear, his head focused on one direction, you by his side.

Things had shifted drastically since that night. Since you watched a piece of his walls crash to the ground. Giving you a chance to finally see the man he had once been. The Joel you had only met in fragments—memories you weren’t a part of.

A past that you’d never fully know.

“This is as good a place as any,” he said, dropping the bag off his shoulders and onto the ground beside a tree.

“Should I gather wood?” you asked, following his movements—the routine burned into your mind.

He shook his head. “Not tonight. We’re too close to the city.”

“You don’t think people are insane enough to live there, do you?”

The silence he offered was enough of an answer. Even though you were both far enough away from any signs of life, it still wasn’t safe to assume you were entirely free. You could see Joel grappling with the decision to even go down there, but you knew which side would win the war in the end. One side told him to avoid the place altogether, to keep trekking on until you reached the QZ in Boston. But the other whispered something different.

It beckoned him closer, promising something sweet, a reprieve from the terrors of life that continued to plague both of you. Whatever still remained in that city was enough for him to choose the latter.

“I’ll keep first watch,” he murmured, settling with his back to a tree, rifle placed across his thighs.

“Joel.”

He shook his head. “You need to sleep.”

“So do you,” you replied, in the hopes that he’d relent to you as he had before.

The dark lines beneath his eyes grew with every passing day and you wondered what kept him from sleep. Was it nightmares? The prospect of death around every corner? They were things that were enough to send terror running sharply down your spine, but as long as you’d known Joel he seemed to simply take those things in stride. Refusing to give life the satisfaction of watching him crumble beneath the strain.

Yet now he looked half dead; tired of fighting an infinite battle of fear.

“Come here,” you said softly, hand gripping onto his.

“Darlin’—”

“If you don’t sleep then, so help me Joel I will stay up with you.”

The threat held enough truth in it to spur him into action. You would stay up with him until dawn crested over the city, until you could no longer keep your eyes open. Joel had stamina you didn’t possess. Not anymore. So, he allowed you to guide him forward, his head resting on his pack, rifle placed between your bodies. A safety measure in case the night turned for the worst.

“Shut your eyes,” you murmured, seeing the tension in his body melt away the second your hand pressed to his chest.

He huffed—ever the stubborn man who saved your life—but relented without a fight, his eyes fluttering shut quickly followed by a long exhale. The stars were brighter than you’d seen them; the light pollution of the city, no longer a problem the sky had to combat. So, you shifted, rested your head on his shoulder and watched the stars twinkle in a night sky free from the shackles of humanity.

“You’re supposed to sleep too,” he grumbled, his hand coming up to cover yours, thumb running along your wrist.

“I am.” You smiled at his audible snort.

Silence enveloped the two of you, but it never felt off putting in his presence. In fact you began to welcome it, because with Joel there was always more than just words. His thumb continued to go across your skin, creating a soothing rhythm that lulled you into a docile state. If you shut your eyes and focused on the beat of his heart—the rise and fall of his chest with each breath—you might be able to fall asleep. Except your mind still ran, still on high alert in case of something going wrong.

“Hey,” he mumbled, his head turning slightly until his nose brushed against yours.

“Hm?” You felt your heart skip at the sight of his eyes opening again, the deep brown hue pulling you in.

“What’s goin’ on in there?” he whispered. Joel didn’t need to go into specifics to know what he meant by that. You seemed to pick it up just by the inflection of his words—the tone he used when he spoke. This was no different.

You sighed, wishing more than anything that you could strip your shoulders of the weight they carried. “Nothing. I’m just…it’s nothing.”

“It ain’t nothin’.”

“I’m just…scared,” you said, finally showing a sliver of the truth. He hummed, attempting to show that he understood where you were coming from. “What happens when we get to Boston?”

Because that’s where that gnawing feeling stemmed from. It wasn’t your fear of death, or the terror you felt whenever you thought of Joel dying. No, you were scared of what the future held—what came when this trip finally came to an end. You didn’t want to let him go after everything you’d endured together. For the first time you felt like you found the one thing anyone could hope for in life. A partnership.

He sighed. “We keep going.”

“Together?” There you were laying your hope in front of him, wanting him to give you the answer you longed for.

“Yes,” he replied, watching a smile cross your face—his heart beating a bit faster at the sight. It lit him up on the inside. As if someone injected him with a heaping dose of pure sunlight, claiming it would fix all his broken pieces. Save him from hell.

For a moment you simply watched him, seeing an array of emotions flicker through his eyes. You wanted the night to remain endless. For you and Joel to stay there until the stars burned out above—a safe place with no responsibilities. No fear of death. But you knew eventually you would have to get up and follow him into the city. Boston remained right at the very tips of your fingers, yet getting there felt like a million miles away.

“Joel?” you breathed, bringing him out of his mind and back to the present day.

“Yeah?”

“Tell me something.” You clutched his hand in yours, enjoying the warmth that emanated from his skin. “Anything.”

He turned away, looking up at the sky as he processed your words. And you waited patiently. You found that you’d wait for him no matter how long it took, because it was him and to you…he was everything. He was worth fighting for, worth staying put for. He let out a shaky breath, his grip tightening on your palm until pain sparked in your wrist. You didn’t dare pull away though, too captured by the vulnerability that began to show on his face.

For the first time, he was the glass you couldn’t break.

“I had a daughter,” he said softly, still watching how the stars flickered above rather than the way your face went slack with shock. “Sarah.”

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes falling to the broken watch on his wrist as tears began to fall from your eyes. That night when you asked about it—watched him close up right before your very eyes—suddenly made sense. Why he never took it off, why it was the most precious thing to him.

It was from her.

“She was…well she is the best damn thing in my life.” He shut his eyes, his eyes stinging with the tears that couldn’t fall. You didn’t dare interrupt him. Joel was baring the part he’d hidden long ago—offering it to you in the hopes that you’d take care of it. “Had the prettiest smile and the best—” He took in a breath. “The best fuckin’ laugh you’d ever heard. Made everyone else laugh.”

You smiled, feeling your tears fall onto his shirt. “She sounds amazing.”

“She is,” he rasped, his hand pulling yours up higher on his chest until you could feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingers. “On the night of the outbreak. We were tryin’ to get out. But something…” His voice broke, eyes squeezing even tighter. “I couldn’t—and she—”

“Oh Joel,” you whispered, your eyes falling shut as his pain seeped into your heart. It made your whole body scream out and for a moment you wondered how his heart never stopped beating. How had he survived such anguish? How was he still here?

You bit back the sob that threatened to spill free and buried your face into his shoulder, clutching onto his hand to show that you were here. That he could give you this pain to hold and you’d bear it for him for however long he needed. His face turned, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he let the words hang in the air. What more needed to be said? When he had just ripped down the last of his walls.

“I’m so sorry.” The words were a breath on his cheek and you knew they wouldn’t take away any amount of grief. You knew they were simply a band-aid to the gaping wound that would never heal.

He didn’t reply; you didn’t expect him to. So you allowed the silence to fill the air between you, covering you like a comforting blanket. Hiding you from the world until the sun came up. Joel pulled you closer until you practically lay atop his chest, the steady thud of his broken heart echoing beneath your ear. The world had taken so much from him—turned him hopeless—you just never knew the extent of it.

Staring into the darkness of the trees you heard him begin to snore softly, his body now lax beneath you. Except you didn’t move. You remained in the same spot, watching as the world turned a bit darker. The hope seeped out of your body bit by bit now that you understood how much Joel carried—how much he endured.

“I love you,” you breathed, pressing a kiss over his heart, finally shutting your eyes and giving into the soft embrace of sleep.

You woke up to find him gone, his jacket placed strategically over your body to keep you protected from the early morning cold. What you wouldn’t give for a fire to combat the chill that began to seep into your skin. Sitting up slowly, you attempted to catch sight of him through the trees—hoping that he had wandered a bit. But you were left alone with just your pack and his extra gun.

Scenarios began to run through your mind, panic settling in your veins, but you fought against it. You’d been here before. Alone while Joel went off to do who knows what. You knew he would come back—that was a given—but you couldn’t stop the worry from eating at you.

You watched your breath collect in the air as you moved, gathering pieces of wood and rocks to build a fire for a short amount of time. If you were moving today it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to warm up and gain some strength through food. If Joel wasn’t back within the hour you would go out hunting. He’d been generous enough to leave you with a few bullets still in the chamber of his gun.

Which meant he had full intentions of coming back.

The fire sparked quicker than you expected, catching on the brush you packed around the wood and sending heat up towards your face. You couldn’t burn it for long, in case people caught sight of the smoke. Which meant you had to relish in the heat for as long as possible—the stiffness in your body dissipating the longer you sat there.

You watched the orange glow flicker across the wood, consuming it entirely and found you couldn’t tear your eyes away. The sight was familiar—as if you could feel it against your skin with every passing day. Life burned through you with swift brutality and for that mere moment you wondered if it would hurt if you fully sunk into it. Allowed it to destroy you as the flame did the wood that now sat cracked into two pieces—the charred bark falling onto the ground.

A rustling echoed behind you, making you reach for the gun, but the sight of Joel’s graying hair peeking through the woods sent relief flooding through your body. He carried a rabbit in one hand, clutching onto the rifle with the other, and you felt yourself relax just a bit more. Body sinking back into the spot you’d made, legs crossed and hands hovering over the flames.

“Breakfast?” he asked, crouching beside you.

“Don’t mind if I do.” You grinned, pressing your chin against his shoulder briefly, soaking up the warmth of his body.

You couldn’t see his face, but you could feel the smile being pressed against your temple. His lips a soft brush across your skin. If time was kind, you’d be able to stay there. Sitting in the comfort of his presence—the worry that plagued you now pushed to the very back of your mind. It was rare to feel this okay in the comfort of someone else, but Joel made it easy. You wanted to thank him for simply being here, but the words were stuck in your head. Unable to be released.

“How long until we go?” you asked, watching as he cooked the animal over the flames, your stomach clenching painfully.

“Soon as we’re done here.”

The trip into the city wasn’t by any means safe. In fact you were certain it was the most dangerous thing you would attempt in your journey to the Boston QZ. For so long you’d played it safe, but Joel had plans and you would follow his lead wherever he went.

Perhaps it was ridiculous to say you loved him now. In a world where the small hints of anything good were smothered before they could bloom into something more. Except you couldn’t deny what your heart knew was true—what it had been holding onto for months. You loved him. Possibly more than you could ever love someone, and that’s what scared you. Sent a sick feeling into your stomach, your heart twisting violently in your chest at the thought.

Traveling through the city was lethal—a death sentence—but you soon realized it wasn’t the most dangerous thing you could do.

Falling in love in a world intent on destruction was the true risk. Because whether you liked it or not, your entire life could come crashing down in an instant if you lost the man beside you.

Joel was your oxygen. The sole reason you were still alive. You couldn’t lose him.

You both ate in silence, an act that had become sacred to you as time went on. Just a small piece of normalcy that remained—something to remember your old lives by. While you couldn’t necessarily sit at a table and savor the meal. Both of you were content with this. A small amount of peace before chaos ensued once more.

The city called to you—beckoned you closer—and you had to be careful not to give in. There was an unspoken rule in all the traveling you’d had with one another. Joel was the leader in this situation and you were to follow what he said; after all he was simply trying to keep the both of you alive. So you did just that. You waited for him to finish eating and explain exactly how this was going to go down.

“You know…” You picked at the grass beneath you. “I’ve been thinking about what comes next.”

His eyes raised to meet your gaze—the once hardened stare now softened to something you now knew to be familiar. A look he only carried when he was around you. You felt something tug at your chest, warm and inviting.

“I want a home,” you said softly, twirling a dandelion between your fingers. “If that’s a possibility.”

The corners of his lips pulled upwards and you nearly missed the sight. But once you caught it…you couldn’t look away. Joel smiling was a rarity—this you knew to be a hard fact—but when he did the world lit up around him. His smile felt safe. As if he kept every ounce of love given to him in that single look.

“Could be a possibility,” he replied, shifting to where his arm was behind you—his weight leaning on it. “Got a place in mind?”

Heat bloomed beneath your cheeks, small petals of the dandelion flying off. “Nothing too fancy. Big enough for us and…well…it has to be just right.”

Perhaps your mind was playing a trick on you, creating fantastical sights that felt too good to be true, but Joel's smile deepened. A soft light entered his eyes for a brief moment, effectively stealing the breath right from your lungs. He was so beautiful when he smiled. As if he was gifted with it from the gods themselves—his own secret power at the end of the day.

"A house huh."

You nodded, still stunned in place as his smile remained intact. "I miss having a home."

Five words. That's all it took for light to be extinguished like a flame being put out. Sorrow seeped back into his face, his smile faltered, and you felt the world shift beneath your feet. Whatever you said triggered something in his mind. It dragged the memory to the front and forced him to watch with no escape. You know...because you'd been in his place before; you had been a victim to the horror of your own life, privy to the movie that never had an end.

The difference was with Joel you could do nothing but watch.

There was no pulling him out of it, no distracting him, because the memory had already started. So you sat in silence, waiting for it to run its course. Until Joel returned back to you. His smile was gone, face grim once more, and grief stained his soul. But you'd take him any way he was. You'd take him damaged and ruined beyond repair, as he would with you.

"We should get moving soon," he said, voice lower than before, eyes glassy with tears that would never fall.

You let out a breath as your heart sank deeper in your chest. "I'll put out the fire."

He didn't question you or even try to stop you. He simply let you do what you thought was best. Gathering his jacket and gun, he helped you to your feet, the furrow between his brows now set back in place. For a moment...he looked younger than his actual age. A man from the past peeked out, but nothing stayed the same for long.

Nothing good ever stuck.

"Once we get to the edge of the city we'll be out in the open for anyone to see." He slung his pack over his shoulder, handing you a knife to stick in your pocket as an extra precaution for what was to come. "You know I only have one rule darlin'."

Now felt like the perfect time to make a joke—to bring back his smile—but the serious tone of his voice lingered in the air. A reminder that you may be able to take care of yourself on your own, but traveling with Joel now meant you had his life to worry about too.

That alone was something you couldn't risk.

"Follow your lead."

He nodded. "We should be alright, but just in case stick close."

"I will." The idea that you'd stray far from him was ridiculous and he knew it, but the words had to be said. For his own peace of mind.

Somewhere in the middle of the trees there remained an old hiking path. A memoriam of the years that came before, and yet you couldn't picture tourists taking this road. Not even their footprints would survive twenty years of nature. No, this small but distinct path was carved by people traveling towards Boston. You liked to imagine that they made it eventually; that their lives went on in the QZ without issue. But reality always held a harsher reflection than you expected.

Twigs snapped beneath your boots as you trailed beside Joel, eyes set on what remained of the city skyline. Proof that humanity once lived on this planet.

"They'll be deeper inside the city lines," Joel said, dragging your attention away from the ruin. "It's likely there ain't been people for years. But we can’t be sure."

"No reason for activity then?"

He sighed, squinting his eyes against the blaring sunlight. "I'm not sayin' there'll be less. But we might not encounter them much if we’re lucky."

A small amount of relief spread through your chest, pushing against the constant fear that ate at your heart. Devouring it as if you were the meal it had been waiting for. A delicacy of the human body.

"Better than nothing."

He made a noise of agreement, taking the lead and heading deeper into the woods. Eventually they would become sparse, giving the both of you less coverage, until they disappeared altogether. Two decades was plenty of time for nature to reclaim parts of the city, but the cement and stone still remained. A permanent fixture of what used to be in front of you.

The city that used to never sleep, now forced to rest forever.

In the distance you swore you could hear the now familiar screech that haunted your dreams. But it was too far out for you to make out. So you followed Joel, the sun beating down on both of you even through the trees. Sweat stuck to the back of your neck, your fingers slippery on the trigger of your gun. And you both walked in silence—focused on your surroundings. Too anxious to even allow yourselves to whisper.

Yet with Joel it never felt like you were losing time.

How could you? When he was giving back what you lost.

No one else would do this. No one would bother to make sure that you got a chance to visit the city you dreamed about, the place where your future was supposed to be. But he would.

Joel would have given you the sun if you asked him to—if only to see you smile.

Your words from last night continued to rise to the surface, placing themselves on the tip of your tongue, and begging you to open your mouth. Yet as much as you wanted to stand atop the tallest building in the city and shout it from the top of your lungs, you knew you couldn't.

Those words remained hidden in your chest like a wound that could never truly heal. A gaping hole that forced you to bleed out each time you acknowledged its presence.

The sad part was that Joel wasn't the one to rip it open. He was simply someone who managed to stir it awake. He brought it to life with just one look. You started bleeding years ago with loss after loss, until eventually...you stopped trying to close it up with cheap booze and an even cheaper version of what you ached for.

What you needed to sustain you.

"You never told me," Joel said abruptly, shutting down those thoughts within seconds. "About your life."

You smiled despite the effort and lack of breath. "There's not much to tell."

"I doubt that darlin'." He fell into step with you, his hand brushing across yours gently, but even you knew holding hands wasn't a luxury you could afford right now. Not when you'd have to run at a moment's notice. "What was college like?"

Scoffing, you adjusted the strap of your pack. "Parties, hangovers, and lots of coffee."

"Sounds 'bout right."

"Why Joel Miller. Don't tell me you went to college."

He leaned into you, his shoulder hitting yours with enough force to throw you slightly off course. "I didn't. My brother Tommy did. Well...he enrolled."

"Ah yes. The infamous Miller," you joked, grabbing onto his arm to steady yourself.

He snorted, wrapping it around your waist instead. "I wouldn't call him that."

"Then tell me about him."

His eyes met yours, grief still pressing against the light that once was there, but you could see something else linger below. A sense of joy that only came when talking about his younger sibling. A relief that he had family still alive, still around for him to worry about. You knew the fear remained that one day...he might not have that person to worry about, that the world would remain just as cruel as before.

That thought hit you harder than you would have liked—the face of your own brother flashing in your mind. You couldn't save him. Shit, you barely even knew if he was still alive or dead. And that in itself was a different type of grief; a horror you wouldn't wish on anyone.

Least of all Joel.

"He was in the army."

A fallen tree came into view, blocking the path. Joel climbed over it first, grunting as he jumped down, his feet slamming hard when he landed. He took your hand as you went next, helping you go softer than him, checking with a glance to make sure you hadn't snagged yourself on the split wood.

You recall your own brother enlisting, although your mother used to claim you were too young to remember the day he left. But you could make out the hazy images of tear filled goodbyes and hugs that lasted longer than normal. He joined to find purpose. You understood that now.

"Nearly gave our parents a heart attack when he came home with the news." Joel huffed, his hand still clasped tightly around yours. "But Tommy was eighteen. And damn stubborn."

You tried to picture the other Miller as you did when Joel first mentioned him, yet still came up blank. They must look alike. Maybe the same nose, or jaw. No matter how hard you tried though, you could see nothing but a faceless man—a blank slate to the one Joel spoke of so fondly.

"He's younger than you?"

Joel nodded. "By a few years."

The thought of Joel trying to be a good role model for his brother made you smile. You wondered if they ever got into trouble together, if there were stories he might tell you one day when you finally found a safe place to live.

"So...he was the troublemaker of the family."

His gaze slid over to you, eyebrow arching slightly in faux surprise. "I wouldn't say that."

You grinned. “Let me guess…” Joel’s hand tightened around yours. “You were the responsible brother.”

“I had to be.”

“He sounds fun. Maybe I should have met him first.” Glancing to your side, you didn’t see as his face darkened. A look of something wild crossed his face, the painful grip on your hand bringing you back as he yanked you forward. “Joel—”

Unexpected. That is what you continued to feel each time Joel kissed you. Unexpected in his action, unexpected in the feelings he buried beneath the rubble of his heart. You felt yourself stumble into his chest, his lips sliding against your roughly, as he gave into that wild unknown sensation.

A hunger that consumed him quickly. Larger than anything he’d known before.

He exhaled, pulling away with reluctance, and you nearly moved forward to take back that fleeting euphoria. His thumb and forefinger pinching your chin lightly kept you in place. Until you opened your eyes—catching his gaze. Want burned in his iris—turning the deep brown a shade of black—but something darker peeked out, a possessive glint. A promise that you were his.

“Trust me darlin’,” he murmured, lips pulling up into a small grin. Your stomach fluttered rapidly at the sight of his eyes sliding down to your lips—his tongue running along his bottom lip. You wanted it in your mouth. “You’ve got the better brother.”

That remained clear the second you met him. But the tease still lingered in the air. A hint of irritation plucked at Joel’s heart as he thought about you and Tommy instead. If there’s one thing he knew it was this: Tommy would make you laugh as often as possible. He wouldn’t quit until he saw joy overtake the grief on your face. But something told him you needed more than humor.

Even as you looked at him like that—eyes soft and hazy with need—he still felt the innate need to prove himself. To show that he was it for you; that no matter what happened next, Joel was going to be yours.

His face darkened and you longed to peel away the layers of murkiness that hid his true feelings.

But that was the thing about Joel. He’d never show you outright what he kept beneath the surface—not unless he was telling you himself.

His hand took yours again, a small kiss pressed to your temple as he started walking. Towards a future so tangible you could almost feel it between your fingertips. How it ebbed and flowed despite the endless mountain ridges you were yet to traverse.

There was no telling where it dropped off. Where this future finally settled, but regardless of what happened, you’d remain. You would choose Joel over and over again, even if this path led to your death. As long as he was safe—as long as he survived. To you Joel was the only thing you could save—having given up on yourself years ago.

You were two broken souls, but given the chance, you’d piece him back together.

You could see that the path veered back towards the forest, probably to some old forgotten campgrounds. A part of you nearly asked him to head that way, but you stopped before you started. The realization dawned on you quicker than you would have liked. How many people never made it home? How many lost parts of humanity still remained in a place meant solely for joy?

A cold unsettling feeling burrowed its way into your stomach, nausea rising quickly to the surface. Everywhere you looked, death stared back with an empty gaze.

A promise already embedded too deep to remove.

This is how it was always meant to go. This is where it would always lead to.

Joel couldn’t see the terror stricken expression across your face. You were in too deep to ask him for a rescue anyways. So you simply remained. Entrenched in the thick darkness. Yet your feet still moved, your body still complied. He led you closer and closer to the outskirts of the city. And where you expected fear to arise, you found nothing but numbness.

An echo of pain that called out to you. How could you fear what you already knew? The infected were no longer the embodiment of your worst horror come to life.

No, that title now belonged to the man holding your hand so gently in his. Squeezing every few minutes in an act of unconscious reassurance. His fate, his life, it all twisted together until you could barely catch your breath.

He turned to glance at you over his shoulder, his lips curving into a soft smile, the lines around his eyes deeper than before. You nearly gasped as you were yanked out of the darkness, warm air brushing across your face. For those few seconds you felt the sunlight against your face. The worries melted away and this is what you were left with.

Pure broken love.

“Tired?” he asked, oblivious to the way you were drowning.

You grinned, moving closer. “Not really.”

“We got a few more hours.”

Perfect.

You didn’t say it aloud, but you could see the sentiment was reflected back in his eyes. He wanted this as much as you. Where the world only existed in time spent alone. Where nothing could harm you here in your infinite haven with him.

Returning his smile, you squeezed his hand softly, doing what you could to burn the feel of his calloused skin into your mind. Whether it took a few hours or a few days, you didn’t mind. As long as it was with him.

Silence.

That’s all you heard throughout a city once plagued by noise. Where thousands of people used to live—creating the hustle and bustle of the city that used to never rest, now an echoey hollowness remained. At last…the city was asleep. And you hated it.

Life should spill out of every crack and crevice of this place, but there was nothing. You felt as if you should grieve for what once was, but no emotions rose to the surface. Instead you were faced with a bottomless pit of something that once existed.

Joel’s hand was replaced with your weapons, his gun clutched tightly in his own grip. You remained on the outskirts, but that didn’t mean you were safe. If anything you were in more danger this out in the open. There should have been something by now. Yet it seemed that fate had a different idea altogether.

In a way, you were beyond thankful, but uncertainty still remained. A reminder that this would only last for so long. Fate offered what it could, and you took without a second thought. There would never be another chance like this—never another moment of peace.

Sweat stuck to the back of your neck as you walked, eyes scanning the area like clockwork. Joel was a few paces ahead, his body tense, finger on the trigger in case of the worst. You hoped it would never come. Neither of you spoke for fear that whatever remained in the abandoned buildings could hear you. The air was sticky with heat and you felt your body begin to dry out the longer the both of you traveled.

“We can rest up ahead,” he called over his shoulder as if your thoughts were projected to him.

“Do you know where we’re going?”

It’s not that you didn’t trust him—you did—but wandering in the city felt like a risk you shouldn’t be taking more than a trip of enjoyment.

“I’ve got an idea.”

You scoffed. “That’s helpful.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t trust me now Boston,” he drawled with a halfway grin across his face.

“It’s kind of late for that…Texas.”

“No shit.”

You did your best to hold back the laugh that bubbled to the surface, but there was no use. You couldn’t stop it now. Joel looked surprised for a split second, his lips parting into a wide smile, until he began to laugh with you. Deep and rough and perfectly Joel.

This. This is what you ached for most. Joy—no matter how small—in a time where the concept no longer existed. If you could bring that to each other even as you fought to survive then you’d be okay.

In the near distance you could see it, a small section of benches surrounded by nothing but overgrown bushes, flower patches, and trees that would have never been allowed to grow that tall. A sense of elation filled your chest at the sight of a park. So out in the open, so mundane in a city quickly being overtaken by nature. Ivy trailed up the buildings as if that alone kept the ruins together, but you’d never seen something so beautiful.

“I got some food left over,” he muttered, rummaging in his pack as you took a seat on a bench covered by vines. “Nothin’ much, but it’ll work till we dig up somethin’ else.”

You took it gratefully, taking in the area with wonder as you caught every small piece that might show a hint of the past. Shop signs were broken off, rubble scattered through the streets, and abandoned cars were lined up like barriers to the inside of buildings. Perhaps people had come through here before, trapping the infected inside as they made their way through the city quickly.

“Do you remember what it was like?”

He threw a quick glance over his shoulder, catching sight of the coffee shop sign you were fixated on—half of it gone and broken on the asphalt. Everything here had been destroyed over the years. Taken, ripped a part, and left to rot. Yet the cracks in the streets where plants grew told Joel that life still found a way to flourish. Even as darkness and cruelty became the figurehead of humanity.

“Loud,” he said, biting into the dusty granola bar.

You smiled, shifting to make room for him as he joined you on the bench. “So I’ve heard. The city that never sleeps. I guess it was named that for a reason.”

“People were crammed into every corner.” He pointed up to a building in the distance. Surprisingly it hadn’t collapsed yet. “I stayed there. Fourth floor.”

“Hotel?”

He nodded. “Expensive as shit.”

“That tracks.”

“But I had fun.” He grinned, eyes distant as if replaying moments of his past, reliving what it was like to be in this city at the height of its prime. “Tommy wanted to move here. After the army.”

“Did you…want to go with him?”

Joel huffed, eyes falling to his hands as he broke apart the granola bar—anxiety bleeding off his body and seeping into yours. “No. That life was his. Not mine.”

Counting in your head, you tried to calculate at what age Joel might have been when Tommy came home. What might have happened in his life. Until the conversation from earlier came back to you like a fist to your face. Sarah. You tried to picture him as a young dad, raising a little girl, and suddenly the gap between your years and his felt like a chasm you shouldn’t cross.

A split in the ground so deep you could see right down to the center of the Earth.

“And to think,” you replied, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I could have met you here.”

His laugh was shadowed by pain—grief he’d never let you see in its entirety. “You wouldn’t have gone for me.”

“That’s not true.”

“What with you bein’ a fancy museum worker?” He turned, his nose brushing against yours. “Gettin’ you to look twice at me would have taken some effort.”

You smiled, stealing a kiss. “You’re wrong. I’d have asked you out in an instant if I saw you. Maybe…in a bar.” His laugh was soft, raspy as if he’d been shouting for hours. “Or a park.”

“Yeah?” You wanted to keep his smile. “How would it go?”

“Well…” Pulling back, you pressed a finger to your chin, eyebrows pulling together as you pretended to lose yourself in thought. “I’d begin the conversation, because you’re not much of a talker.” He pinched your side, drawing out a laugh.

“And you’d say?”

Forcing your face into a stoic expression, you grasped his shoulders. “Excuse me sir. Are you a fan of country music?”

He snorted, his body shaking as he broke between your palms. Laughing so hard he nearly dropped his granola bar on the floor. If you closed your eyes, you could imagine the sounds of the city in the background. The echo of what could have been reverberating to you through the years.

This would be it. The moment you knew you were head over heels for the man sitting beside you.

This is where you’d start to plan a future.

“And you’d say…of course, I’m from Texas darlin’.” You did your best to morph your voice into his, but couldn’t get through it without smiling.

Joel cupped your chin, tugging your lips close enough to feel them brush across his—your heart now beating an unsteady rhythm in your chest. “Of course.”

“And I’d say…that’s funny. I’m from Boston.” Sadness seeped into your heart when he looked at you like that—as if you were the only person to exist on this planet. His hope. His lifeline. “And the rest is history.”

He pressed his lips against yours, stealing a kiss soft enough to crack off another splinter of your heart. “I like that version of history.”

“Me too,” you breathed, biting down hard on your bottom lip to keep the sting of tears at bay.

You could feel the pain in your feet begin to shoot through your lower back. Traveling steadily with each step. From what you could tell, the sun was dipping into mid afternoon, still early in the day, but late enough to cause worry. Staying in the city past nightfall didn’t bode well for either of you. Yet somehow…you were traveling deeper into the maze of fallen buildings and broken roads.

“Joel—”

He stopped in the middle of the road, his back straight and shoulders tense. You braced yourself for the worst, hands grabbing tightly onto the weapon clutched to your chest. A small chirp of birds sounded in the distance, animals echoing their sentiments back to the broken world around them. Yet nothing sounded dangerous enough to cause worry.

“What is it?”

Glancing back at you, he threw you a cautionary smile, head tilting as if to say join me. 

So you followed his instruction. Stepping around the cracks in the street to stand close, facing him as he looked at something behind you.

“We’re here.”

Confusion lined your face, worry filtering through your chest. “Where’s…here?”

“Turn around.”

His hands grasped your shoulders, shifting you until you were staring at the building he was. And for a moment you nearly laughed; claimed it was a good joke walking you nowhere. Only for your eyes to catch sight of the cracked and broken steps before you. Weeds grew between what still remained and the front was blown to shit, but you’d recognize this building even with your eyes closed.

The final destination in the path of your old future.

“The Met?” you whispered, eyes wide in awe at the sight of such a grand building torn to bits.

He pressed his lips to your ear. “Thought you might want to see it in person this time.”

Those three words you uttered last night, barely spoken at all, suddenly felt too small to describe the depth of what you felt. You didn’t just love Joel. You would die for him. You’d take any pain he harbored and carry it as your own. And you’d do all this…because he’d do the exact same for you. Love felt too little in the grand scheme of things.

How could you simply love someone who would bring you the future and lay it at your feet?

“Is it safe?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, tinged by awe.

“Probably not.”

“So we could die?”

“There’s a good chance.”

You smiled, tangling his hand in yours. “I think it’s worth it.”

“Yeah.” He squeezed your palm softly. “I do too.”

Carefully he led you up the steps. A walk that felt surreal after years of dreaming this exact moment. You knew one day you’d get here. Whether that was with a degree and a resume in your hand, or holding the hand of a man who saved you. You didn’t care, because finally…there you stood.

Ivy crawled up the sides of the building, the doors were no longer attached, and you felt as if you were walking into a different universe. The entrance that you’d seen in brochures and pictures somehow looked prettier this way; slowly being captured by the hands of nature. As she shifted the land of humans to her point of view.

The almost crystalline marble shone differently in the direct sunlight. Glancing up you caught sight of the hole in the ceiling. This building must have been affected by the bombing.

“I remember this part,” he said suddenly, an awestruck expression painted across his face. He looked like a young man again, taking his first visit to this grand old museum.

“This is called The Great Hall. And it was Richard Morris Hunt that was the architect on the project. One hundred years ago. Well give or take a few years.”

A stream of words left your mouth without a single thought. Explanations of the different parts that once existed, the historical references for how they were built. And for a moment you felt nineteen again. Fresh out of an art history class; the knowledge once again at the forefront of your mind.

All the while Joel watched with a glint in his eyes, silent to what you had to say, yet focused entirely on you. The museum wasn’t important to him. Hell he barely gave a shit about what used to be here. But something changed in your demeanor as you spoke about art and the history attached to it. You bloomed before his very eyes.

You came alive.

“I wonder if a few of the paintings are still around,” you murmured, eyes averting to one side of the room. “Could we…”

He nodded, readying his gun. “We can try.”

You expected this place to be crawling with infected. At least a few here and there, yet nothing but silence greeted you with each new room you entered. It became unnerving after a while. As if fate was waiting to drop the other shoe, tearing apart something already special.

Hesitation lingered in each step you took, fear crawling along your nerves like a spider, until you entered a room filled with paintings torn apart. Once upon a time it was a gallery, yet now the delicate pieces of history were nothing but a reminder of what happened.

Tucked away on a side wall, you found a painting still hanging. A small crack went through the top corner of the glass covering it, but as a whole the piece remained pristine enough to make out.

“You know that one?” he asked, following your quick pace through the room.

“Allegory of the Planets and Continents.”

“Allegory huh?”

You nodded. “Painted by Tiepolo in…1752.”

“I can’t say I’ve heard of him.”

“He did a lot of allegorical pieces.” You tilted your head, eyes tracing the intricate details that were nearly lost to time. Joel did the same. “I remember seeing this in a class presentation.”

He hummed, his gaze finding its way back to you. “And what does it mean?”

“A number of things really.” You pointed to the center. “That’s Apollo. And those are the gods as a representation of the planets. Mars, Jupiter, Venus. You know.”

“And them?”

You sighed. “Humanity.” His hand found its way towards yours, fingers twining together as you stood there. Alone in a museum together. “They’re waiting for Apollo to take to the skies and bring about the sun.”

“Seems like a lot of work for a God.”

The smile that crossed your face made Joel’s chest tighten. “I guess it was. Although it’s strange. Back then people were waiting for the sun and now…well now we wait for death.”

Pain flared in his heart quickly and without warning. But he did his best to force it down, steadying himself in your hold. Oh how he wished he could tell you the truth. About the past he had yet to accept as his own. About the bullet that never met its mark—the hand that remained unsteady even now.

“We should go soon,” you said, pulling him out of his own mind, and he nearly thanked you. “The sun will be going down eventually.”

He nodded. “Go out the way we came.”

It hurt to say goodbye to a building you’d never been in before. But that’s not where the pain stemmed from. You’d said goodbye to the prospect of what if a long time ago. You had to. This was from losing such a precious moment with Joel—a memory you’d hold onto for as long as you could. For that time…you were simply two people wandering the halls of a museum together. Finally on a date after so long traveling.

Maybe if you had met years before in a bar or in a park. You wouldn’t have to say goodbye.

The sunlight felt different back on the steps, brighter, crueler. As if Apollo was mocking you for such a small hope, such a small dream come to life. Yet even now you couldn’t blame him.

You headed back the way you came through the city. But your feet were weary, your body drooped with each step, and eventually you’d collapse on the asphalt just as the buildings once did. Joel could tell with each look he threw your way, checking to make sure you were in fact following him. He wouldn’t have put it past you to remain in that building.

To make a home with history.

“We can’t sleep here,” he said, pausing to let you catch your breath.

“I know. My feet just…”

He nodded solemnly, squinting against the sunlight. “Wait here.”

“Joel?”

There was no time to question his actions, because you were out of breath as it was, and he was moving further away quicker than you expected. Standing there in the middle of the street wasting sunlight turned your insides with every second that passed. Your eyes caught sight of him turning a corner before he vanished entirely from your sight. And you held onto the thin shred of sanity you had left in your body.

You trusted Joel. A fact truer than anything you’d known in your life.

So you waited, watched your surrounding areas, and held your breath. 

If you weren’t so unnerved by the silence, you might have found it enjoyable. Some peace before the two of you went in search of a QZ that may no longer be there. That thought never occurred to you—traveling with Joel kept you distracted enough to where you didn’t focus on the important things. The question that now picked at your heart.

What were you supposed to do if the QZ wasn’t there? Where would you go?

Blind faith is all that kept you going, but that never seemed to be enough. In the end you were left with nothing but disappointment. You’d run all out of faith when it came to the fates. The still healing wound on your side was proof enough of that.

The echo of dried leaves cracking beneath feet signaled to you that Joel must have returned. Whatever he was looking for must have been a bust. The smile on your face and tease right on the tip of your tongue died in moments as you turned. A rock falling to your stomach, filling you with dread.

Dried blood caked down the side of their face. A deep red now a rust brown; a stark contrast to the green moss that covered their torn clothes.

Every time you saw one you felt the punch to your gut grow stronger. As if lead embedded itself in your flesh. Again. Your breath came in short, eyes stuck staring at what was once a person. They stumbled forward, body twitching with every stunted shift. And you wanted to scream. Shout for Joel, but your mouth sealed itself shut, your body rooted to the ground beneath you.

The whole time you were aching for life to return to this city, you forgot. Life already existed here. Mangled and rotting and steeped in death.

But life nonetheless.

They turned, eyes glassy and empty, but somewhere in the depth of them they recognized that you were alive. Your heart pounded against your chest, louder than their fucking screech. It pierced right through your skin, a slice to the already existing wound.

You clutched Joel’s gun, finger sliding along the trigger. It was easy enough to pull, to set the bullet flying towards its mark. And you should have pulled it, should have watched as they dropped, but like an idiot…you hesitated.

Why the fuck did you hesitate?

A pause of silence filled the space, echoing louder than any gun could have, before time slowed before your very eyes. How fucking stupid of you. To think you’d be safe. They clocked your shift back, head twitching, before that horrifying click you’d come to hate echoed in your ears. You were dead the second they started to run, limbs flying and body thrashing, as if the control stemmed to one part.

One sole purpose.

Infect.

“Fuck!” you shouted, ignoring the ache in your feet as you sprinted in the direction Joel disappeared to. If you were lucky he was still there.

Yet life had a way of proving to you that luck had nothing to do with why you remained alive.

“Joel!” You gasped for breath, doing what you could to ignore how they sped up behind you, their screech somehow louder as it echoed off the buildings around you. “Joel!”

If you could get the upper hand you could put a bullet in their skull, but your thought process happened too late. Glancing over your shoulder, you were blinded by their body launching at you. Toppling you to the ground as they scratched for your face, any part of you they could sink their teeth into. You don’t remember screaming, or even calling Joel’s name. You simply fought. You tugged on the loose thread of pure fucking rage that called your name—screamed for you to do survive.

“You piece of shit!” you yelled, managing to hold them off with your forearm, your fingers grappling for the knife attached to your side. “You fucking animal!”

“Boston!”

Yanking it out, you nearly cried in relief as you jammed it into their neck, shoving it in deep enough to hear a crunch as it met bone. Satisfaction pulled at your chest. You didn’t stop there. Dragging it out, you sliced through their shoulder, their throat, any part of them you could reach. Until you were no better than the monster that now lay above you. Lifeless.

Hands came out of nowhere, grasping onto their corpse and shoving it off you. You nearly took a swing at the person above you, the red fury blinding you to anything that could have existed nearby. The feral piece of your heart—the survivor—had been set in motion and they called for blood.

Joel’s hands yanked the knife out of your clutch, his voice calling your name, and for a moment you felt lost to the depths of your own fury. You would have killed him if he wasn’t fast enough to dodge that knife.

“Boston!” He pressed you to the ground, his body sitting on your waist, hands keeping your wrists together. “Baby it’s me.”

The breath in your lungs escaped in a sharp gasp, your body stilling within seconds. Only a few times in your life had you succumbed to that raw emotion that scratched and clawed at your chest. Some days you claimed it kept you alive. Others you ignored its existence in the hopes that it would disappear for good. It was the darkness you refused to see—the one thing you wouldn’t accept about yourself.

“You’re okay,” he mumbled, releasing the hold he had on your hands in order to cup your face. “It’s dead. It’s gone. You killed it.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Why…did you leave?”

Leaning forward he pressed his forehead to yours, his breath hot across your chin. “I’m sorry darlin’. I keep doin’ that.”

Inhaling his breath, you did what you could to regulate your heart. “And I keep nearly dying.”

He grinned, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Nearly. Not if I got a say in the matter.”

Dirt covered your back as he helped you to your feet, and before you could shake it off, he brushed his hands along your body. Patting it off as best he could. The act shouldn’t have brought tears to your eyes, it shouldn’t have even been noteworthy. But the tenderness behind his touch reminded you what you could have lost.

“I want an explanation,” you said, your voice thick with tears. Thankfully he chose to ignore it.

“I found somethin’.” He pointed to a shop that held no sign, no indication that it was anything before this. “You might like it.”

You struggled to put the knife back in its place—still wary and on edge. “This better be good Texas. I didn’t almost die for nothing.”

Joel didn’t respond, but you caught the flash of something crossing his face. Dark enough to cause worry. And you wanted to ask, to prod and poke at what he was keeping to himself, but the way his fingers tightened on his gun told you enough. He didn’t like to think of you that way. Dead on the ground in a city that he brought you to. A trip that was meant to be filled with joy.

“Follow me,” he stated, pushing open that already broken door.

You half expected to see a shop, something frivolous from the past, but the sight of a garage nearly stopped you in your tracks. A dusty brown cover cloaked something in the middle, but the shape was familiar enough to light up your chest. A car. Joel tugged at the cover, kicking up dirt and whatever else lay atop, but you couldn’t care less.

It’s once beautiful dark red color looked aged with however long it had been here. Never one to know cars, you simply knew that it was expensive—a thing that would have cost the entirety of your tuition at one point.

“How…” you breathed.

“Saw the logo on the window,” he replied. “I figured it was a hardware store until I came in.”

“Does it work?”

He shrugged. “Probably not.”

You deflated slightly. “Can we…fix it?”

The sun was going down faster than you would have liked and Joel knew it. He could see how you were both losing time the longer you were there. But the prospect of having an escape kept him on the edge. His grim expression made the choice for you as you moved to pop the hood. Your bag, now discarded on the floor by his feet.

“I don’t know much about cars—”

“Lucky you got me.”

“Don’t tell me. You’re a contractor who knows cars?”

Joel huffed. “Someone had to help my brother fix up his shitty truck.”

The words were good enough for you as he moved you out of the way, ducking down to peer at the engine. His shirt tugged up his back as he leant forward, his skin coated in a sheen of sweat. If it were any other time and the prospect of this car working didn’t depend on life or death, you would have sat back and admired him.

But the edge from earlier still ran through your veins, adrenaline the only thing that kept you upright and stable. Joel worked silently, cursing under his breath every now and then. Only speaking to ask for certain tools. And you watched the sun begin to dip lower. Suddenly you found yourself regretting never taking auto shop in high school. Choosing wood shop over it in a heartbeat.

“Turn her over,” he said, wiping the sweat away from his neck. You felt warmth pool in your stomach at the sight.

Jamming the screwdriver into the ignition, you turned it slowly, hope cresting at the top of your chest. Only for the sputter of an engine to die out in seconds.

“Shit,” he muttered, glancing back at the work he’d put in. “The battery ain’t dead yet and I fixed everythin’ else. Try again for me darlin’.”

You repeated the motion, pressing down on the gas pedal, clutching the wheel in your hand. Whether it was you attempting to force life into the car, or sheer fucking luck, you’d never know. But the echo of the engine roaring to life flooded you with enough relief you fell back into the seat with a smile.

“Joel?”

He looked up, a smile of pride across his lips. “Yeah baby?”

“Let’s get the fuck out of New York.”

Nodding, he tossed your bag into the backseat as you let him slide into the driver's seat. “I like the sound of that.”

The calm of the forest welcomed the both of you with open arms. As if promising the rest you ached for desperately. Miles and miles of trees—of different shades of green and brown—were softly illuminated by the sun steadily dipping in the sky. In an hour or less night would be upon the world and this day, no matter how special, would have to come to an end.

You tried not to think about it; the idea of having to say goodbye to something you’d cherish. What would keep you going if Joel and you were to ever part. What you wouldn’t do to keep the sun in the sky for a while longer. Give up a few years of your own life, of the future you planned with hope filled eyes and empty hearts.

If staying here—in this moment—was an option, you wouldn’t hesitate to jump at the chance.

Joel slammed the trunk of the car shut, a small box of cans he found buried in the back of the garage, clutched in his hands. Despite the prospect of all this eventually ending, you caught the hint of a smile on his lips. Barely there, yet bright enough to light up your heart like a match being struck.

You found yourself smiling back—heart hammering loudly in your chest.

“We’ve got…” He raised a can covered in dents and coated in a thick layer of dust. “‘M gonna assume it’s soup.”

“Lovely,” you laughed, your face twisting up in disgust as he tossed it to you.

The dust was sticky beneath your fingers, as if something had spilled across it years ago. You figured it was best not to question more than necessary. Settling on the ground, you plunged your knife into the cover, taking a hesitant whiff of something probably expired past saving. Much to your surprise though, a pungent scent of tomatoes greeted you.

“Raviolis,” you exclaimed, delight scrawled across your face.

You wished you could have seen Joel’s eyes go soft, seen the way he practically melted at the expression of joy you wore. Joel Miller remained hard as stone to the rest of the world, but in moments like this, when peace was prominent and life gave way to something other than pain. He allowed himself to feel. For a bit…he was the man he might have been a decade ago.

“Good enough for me.”

Prying the lid off, you watched as he set up stones for a small enough pit. You were far enough in the forest that it would take people several hours to get to you. Far enough away from civilization of any kind. What remained in the city, the bits and pieces left behind, would never be enough to build what used to exist. Like it or not…that part of the world had come to a close.

The chapter sealed and signed off with enough blood to keep it shut forever.

“Thank you,” you said softly as he struck a match from the small box you kept in your pack. “For today.”

He grinned, glancing down at his hands that fiddled with a stick. “Was nothin’ really. You wanted to see the city and we were heading this way—”

“Joel.” Cupping his face, you shifted his shining brown eyes until they were upon your face. Gazing at you with a look he’d never shown you before. “You gave me a day I’ll never forget.” He chuckled, grasping onto your waist gently. “Thank you.”

Those two words didn’t seem like enough to get your message across. You wanted to do the same for him. To give him something he’d remember, but nothing felt enough.

He pulled you closer. “Would have been better if you didn’t get attacked.”

“Well…” You looped your arm around his neck. “I knew what I was getting into when I chose you.”

Something shifted in the air between you the second he led you up those cracked and broken museum steps. The front of the building had been blown clean off by bombs, but you’d recognize it anywhere. The place where your future once led to. A home in your heart for so long. A dream not yet come to life. Joel took care to lead, to put himself in harm's way to keep you safe. But it was more than that.

He gave you time to look.

To take back a part of your past you never got to have.

An act that he’d never be able to do. He couldn’t go back, couldn’t take anything from his past that hadn’t already been destroyed. The watch on his wrist was all he’d keep. But you…he could give this to you. He could heal something in your heart you didn’t even realize was broken.

“I’d do it again,” he murmured, lips sliding along the inside of your wrist, nose pressed to your palm.

Your heart ached for him; body burned for him. And in the lowlight of the sun, you found your hope in him. It glimmered softly, barely within reach, but Joel had kept it for you all this time. He made sure to protect what you couldn’t—what you had given up.

“Kiss me,” you whispered, catching his quickly darkening gaze. “Please.”

The crackle of the flames couldn’t hide his small groan of pleasure as his lips met yours. What he intended to be soft, reverent in a way he’d never been before, shifted rapidly. His hand slid up your body, fingers wrapped gently around your throat to keep you in place. To help him devour you a bit deeper. That alone sent a flutter to rush through your entire body, your fingers digging into his wrist, silently begging for him to press down tighter.

To cut off the air he exhaled into your lungs.

“You got no idea—” He sucked in a breath when your lips met his throat, teeth nipping at the salty skin. Red bloomed beneath the surface as you went, small marks and bruises to prove that he wasn’t dreaming. That this trip was real—that you were real.

He growled, fingers tightening around your throat to pull your lips back to his, a rough breath exhaled into your open mouth. “No idea what you do to me darlin’.”

Sticky warm wet heat spilled into your stomach, flooding your already damp panties. The can was forgotten on the edge of the pit, his touch far more enticing than a few meager pieces of food. If you could survive on one thing alone, you’d want it to be him. You would train your body to sustain itself on his touch, his tongue sliding along yours, his fingers digging into your skin.

He’d become your oxygen, your reason for living.

“I-I do.” You gasped as his teeth dug into your throat, hands quickly stripping you of your flannel. Helping him, you yanked at your shirt, discarding it to the side. Nothing mattered but the feel of his tongue tracing along your skin—the hot mix of his touch and spit made you dizzy. “You do the same to me.”

A soft grunt was muffled into your chest, his hips rising up to grind against something. To gain what little friction he could.

In the midst of kissing him, he managed to drag you into his lap, your knees pressed to the forest floor on either side of his hips. Your body, as close as you could get with clothes in the way. You could feel the heavy press of him against your thigh and clenched around nothing. The needy emptiness that slammed into your body was nearly too much, but you held onto what little fragments of sanity still remained.

You clung to the bits of yourself he wished to consume, knowing the consequences of what might come afterwards.

But how could you give a fuck about consequences when his touch lit you up like the fire to your left? How could you care about anything else? When his lips wrapped around your peaked nipple and sucked at it as if you were his source of life.

His hands slid up your back, skin hot wherever he touched, as he pulled you down into his lap a bit more. Enough to feel the familiar press of his cock straining against his jeans. The sun was nearly gone now, light bleeding through the branches of the trees, and you let the warmth consume you. You relished in its burning caress as he worshiped your skin with his mouth, his hands that had spilled blood for you.

“Need to be—” He bit off with a sharp moan as you rolled your hips down, giving him the pressure he needed. “Fuck keep doin’ that.”

You were desperate for him and you weren’t afraid to admit it to yourself. The infatuation bordered on obsession, but if you were to say that about him he’d finally have to admit the same to you. He’d have to crack open his chest, bleed through your fingers like sand, and allow you to dig your way to his heart. As if you were conducting an autopsy on his body—picking a part each dark piece that he was ashamed to hold onto.

“Touch me,” you whined, digging your fingers into his hair as he dug his into your hips. A burning bruising touch that left you needy.

He grinned, pulling at the button of your pants. “I am touchin’ you darlin’.”

“You—fuck, fuck, fuck—” His fingers slid through your slick, finding their way to the parts of you he’d memorized in such a short time. Your clit practically throbbed beneath his touch, body shuddering as he circled it with enough pressure to electrify your nerves. “Yes.”

“That’s what you want?” The question was irrelevant. He knew this better than you, but that wasn’t what he was asking.

Is this enough? This quick fuck beside a fire as you both hid the real reason. Was his touch, his kiss, enough to show the truth?

Was he enough?

You choked out a soft yes, your lips finding his in a sloppy spit slicked kiss, and his fingers became insistent in their determination to watch you break. Joel had become addicted to the sight. His very own guilty pleasure—yet how could he feel guilty about something so angelic? How could he repent for a sin that he’d give up everything for? What was the point of worshiping at an altar when heaven existed between your thighs?

Eventually his fingers wouldn’t be enough. For either of you. But he was focused on one thing, feeling your pussy spill along his palm. He sunk two fingers into you knuckle deep and smiled as your head fell back, a throaty moan echoing off the trees. You grinded against his hand, fingers tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck. And this was enough.

“Prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he murmured, hand still placed around your throat. His cock leaked as it constricted with your swallow and images of what he’d look like in your mouth flashed in his mind.

“M-More—” You gasped, your clit dragging along the heel of his calloused palm.

But you had begged for something else and Joel was never one to deny you. He ripped at your pants as you did the same with his, your lips messy and rough against his. You swallowed his moan the second your cold hand wrapped around his throbbing cock—precum sliding down your palm as he did his best not to finish there and then. He was so fucking wound up that this would be over before it began.

Neither of you cared.

“You’ve gotta know,” he rasped, gripping onto your bare hip as you hovered directly over his cock. Your pussy practically dripped onto him.

“Know what?” you sighed, sliding him through your slick.

He squeezed his eyes shut to the sight of you. The shine of firelight and sunlight played against your skin and Joel felt his body tighten painfully. The view alone nearly made you double over in pleasure, your breaths coming in short gasps as he fought to finish on the front of your pussy.

“That I—” He gasped as you began to sink down onto him, encasing him that sticky heat he’d begun to think was the cause of his demise. He’d never be able to live without this. Without getting to carve his way into your body. “Fuck darlin’.”

You grinned, cupping his chin and pulling his attention back. “I’ll go slow.”

“You don’t have to take it easy on me.”

“Seems like I might.”

A rumble started in the base of his chest, lips curving up as he caught your mouth in a searing kiss you felt down to your toes. The grip on your throat tightened as you began to move slowly, letting him pull out of you slow enough to cause madness to rise in your chest. Like a burn you refused to let go of. Joel had other ideas. He yanked you down with enough force to drag out a high pitched cry from your chest, your mouth falling open in a silent scream when he set his own pace.

Quick and fast and filthy enough to sign your name on hell’s roster. He wanted to fuck himself into your body so deep he was buried there. Wanted to paint your insides until you were leaking him all morning. He wanted to etch himself into your soul.

Permanent and without shame.

“C’mon darlin’.” His teeth dug into your jaw, pain slicing through the pleasure deliciously. “Let me hear ya.”

You curled into him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he pounded up into you. “‘S good,” you gasped, coherency going right out the window.

He grinned, tugging at your throat. “You can do better than that.”

Words faintly entered your mind before disappearing seconds later as he tilted your hips slightly. You scratched at his chest when his cock struck right where you needed him. Right where your mouth began to form words you fought so hard to keep at bay. Words that revealed too much, gave a window into your heart, and if you had the capability you’d shut your fucking mouth. But it was far too late for that.

“You like that?” he groaned, teeth digging into his plush bottom lip as he kept the angle. The veins on his neck were strained, begging for you lick at them, and you dipped down to distract yourself from the words.

The one thing that seemed to catch his attention.

“What was that?”

You whined, wrapped an arm around his neck as you dragged your hips along the coarse hair at the base of his cock. “Nothing,” you mumbled, sucking at his neck.

Only for him to pull you off by your throat, his lips hovering over yours. “What’d you say?”

“I—” You clung to him, begging for the truth to sink back into your chest. But he was staring at you with dark eyes and a parted mouth begging for you to kiss it. He looked at you as if you were ethereal and for that small moment, you believed it. “I love you.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, his hips stuttering in their movement. You watched his eyes go wide, understanding finally dawning across his features, and you prepared yourself for the worst. You waited for him to reject you. The words never came. He pulled you into a kiss, tongue sliding along yours, as he sped up his thrusts. Grunting into your mouth with each one—his body taut and begging for release.

“Yeah?” he panted into your mouth. You nodded, feeling the burn of pleasure begin to flash white behind your shut eyes.

“So much,” you sobbed, tears spilling down your cheeks. Something pulled tight in your stomach, building with each stunted move of his body against yours. You needed it, would beg on your knees for it, and Joel was right there with you.

His dark gaze met yours as he finally released your throat in favor of finding your clit. “Say it again.”

Heat rocketed up your spine as you locked down around his cock, his fingers insistent and rough. “I love you!” you cried, trembling in his hold. Those three words you’d been so afraid to say out loud finally spilled free over and over and over again. Until you couldn’t hear them anymore over the loud rush in your ears.

He slammed his hips up one last time, lips finding yours in a bruising kiss, and found his own peak. Spilling into you with a moan, his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you pressed up close. You wondered if he feared you’d vanish before his very eyes.

“I love you,” he sighed, his forehead pressed to yours, eyes shut to your own wide gaze.

The words didn’t register at first, simply flying directly over your head. Yet as silence wrapped around your entwined bodies, sunlight disappearing over the last of the trees, you finally understood. No orgasm could match the absolute bliss that filled your body at the echo of his voice forming those words. Of their soft cadence. He was hesitant to look at you, to face what could finally break him, but your hands cupping his face drew him out of his own mind.

“Say it again,” you whispered, smiling so bright your cheeks ached. “Please.”

Before you could bask in their beauty, he was pulling away. Digging into his pack that lay behind him. You wanted to stop him, bring him back to this current moment, but the glint of something gold caused you to freeze. The breath once again caught in your chest.

For the first time you saw Joel grow nervous. Almost bashful as he lifted his hand and allowed a small green jewel on a gold chain to dangle between the both of you. The last of the sunlight glinted off the emerald and for some reason it reminded you of him. How it shone in those rare moments when light caught it just right. Yet held a darkness to it, a hidden truth yet to be revealed.

“I love you,” he said, pressing the necklace into your palms. “I always will darlin’.”

Tears dripped onto his hands as you clutched the dainty piece of jewelry to your chest. “Oh Joel.”

“It’s not a ring—”

You silenced him with a tear filled kiss, salt spilling across his tongue. He did what he could to wipe them away, but like it or not there seemed to be no end in sight. Not when your heart finally latched onto all those broken pieces you thought were lost. Joel did the one thing you never thought possible. He healed you.

“It’s enough.” You smiled into his kiss, the necklace digging into your palm—carving its shape into your skin. “You’re enough.”

You could see it now. The path your future led to. Not a building, or a job, or even a home. The end of your path—your grand plan—would always and forever lead to him.

[neptunes-sol-angel]

Something in your way? Pick the picture(s) that you're drawn to the most then read the corresponding message for insight on what your possible blockages are.

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Pile One 🦇

You say that you want love, but your actions aren't matching with those words. Let me explain why, and there's actually two reasons, but what both sides of the collective that were drawn to this pile have in common, is remaining stagnant in illusions. What's right in front of some of you, is a way forward from what hurt you to what will free you, if you let go of being stuck in the past of things that were not for you. This includes for a lot of you, looking for closure from someone that rejected you in a way that was passive. What's on the other side of this blockage is knowing that you're looking at the wrong way, you keep turning to moments in your life that made you feel unlovable and are internalizing it obsessively to the point where you feel like there's truth and some godly justification for why someone mistreated you or saw you as someone with no worth. You create your own closure, by leaving this person or these people where they are. You don't need their permission to go on with your life to find your family, your true friends, romance, and your real soulmate which is yourself. I love that you're giving yourself time to heal, your body does too, but your mind and spirit is in need of some self-love ointment to mend those lies you keep feeding it. You can't keep this war zone going in inside you, by rendering yourself powerless or staying in this false sense of control because of situations that brought you down the moment you felt that you could be vulnerable. In another guise of how this blockage is making people stuck, is how some of you have caught the ick of avoidance from the person that hurt you, by keeping yourself in a shell. Isolation to get yourself together is fine, when it is healthy. It becomes unhealthy when you know damn well that being reluctant towards wholesome connections and holding back from the possibility of feeling joy, love, and comfort again by sabotaging the other relationships you have in your life with people that love you and the people that want to get to know you and love you too. You aren't cold. You aren't non-chalant. You aren't shallow. You know that's not you. The "bad" or the "hurt" doesn't stop, even when you try to shield yourself from it and in that same linear fashion, the "good" that you'll experience doesn't stop just because of that one bad experience, but those good outcomes can swiftly spoil by not recognizing how unstoppable you can be by changing the narrative. The chalice is yours, and yours only.

Pile Two 🦇

Y'all are trying to "work" away from grief that you are supposed to feel, and it's not unreasonable for why you want to. This feels like an overwhelming feeling of anxiety. Like death that surrounds you. This could pertain to a literal death of someone close to you, or endings in your personal life that have happened, but I'm also picking up irritation and overstimulation with hearing and experiencing chaos that impacts people nationally or globally. You want to rest from this, and ironically, you get that escape by keeping yourself busy. This may not feel like a blockage, but overtime it's going to reveal to you why you need to exert this energy instead of continuing to keep this buried. This can look like talking to someone you trust or a professional about what you're feeling, but I'm also sensing something relating to community, maybe group therapy is something to look into. Overworking for some people in this pile, is going to lead to burnout in which you'll have no choice but to make some changes in your life to relieve this exhaustion on your mind and body, by adding or adjusting activities that will push you to eventually confront what you've been trying to avoid. The same way that too much investment in the spiritual plane can leave you ungrounded, being too involved with material plane could make some of you need to make some space somewhere for your faith. In general, what you guys really need to hear, is that things are going to be ok, whether it's from a higher power, a friend or family member, or even a stranger. You guys need that motivation to know that you can get through what's troubling you or making you uneasy without neglecting parts of yourself that need your time and care. Even if therapy is something that you can't afford, try forums or web browsing for free group activities that are local for you. I emphasize working with others, because above all you need support the most right now, your blockage comes from feeling like most of your problems are for you to deal with alone. You shouldn't suffer in silence because people made you feel like that's what it takes to be strong in this world in order to reach a resolution. Working is going to of course pay off in the end, but you get there by working smarter, not harder to the point where you're depleted before you even reach the finish the line. I also want to mention that these new things to add in your life don't have to be serious, it's about the healthy things that make you realize that there's more to life than just things that you have to do or what to do for survival. Make sure to play in order to compliment the work that you're doing, both materially and healing wise.

Pile Three 🦇

Your blockages comes from the choices that you make in your life that are influenced by others, but in your mind you think that you are making them for you. There's this burst of energy that I'm feeling that's raw and powerful, but misdirected. This feels a lot like some of you are in that part of your journey where you're confusing liberation with something that you're actually repressing. A lot of you have rage that you haven't properly expressed because of how other people might see you or this belief in your head that what you're feeling is unreasonable. This is manifesting as you wanting to embody this rebellious energy that you're subconsciously wanting to act against others, but this translating to actions that make you rebel against yourself and your true nature. This energy reminds me of Kat from Euphoria. She had this power trip of wanting to empower herself in an act of self-love and embracing her sexuality, but she didn't know that she didn't have to do sex work in order for this to happen. This isn't an attack on people who do sex work at all, this is more so about people who do sex work because they're unsure of how to convey their emotions over something that hurt them in the past and how they want to construct their identity. You have this passion, but you don't know what to do with it, but you're learning and even if it leads to something you regret doing or something that you realize you didn't actually love to do, don't punish yourself for it or call yourself an imposter. Growth isn't the end result, it's your acknowledge what needs to change and your initiative to make those changes. You're onto something bold and transformational, you have more than enough power to do it, your blockage, is just in how you subconsciously still make your choices about other people instead of what's good for you. Don't succeed in order to prove something to others, succeed because you have something to prove to yourself. Don't box yourself into trends and concepts that you barely understand yourself, dig deep into the semantics of what your purpose is and why you choose to live it, not because of what others say. This feels like pile one, but is a bit more widespread. Some of you desire a soft life, but are denying yourself of it because the world has shown you nothing but what's rough. Some of you have the option to choose a path that's supposed to shape the rest of your life, but you're making that decision based off of your parents or people who don't have to live with those choices. Some of you are labeling yourselves divine or dark feminines, but is it based of true spirituality or patriarchal concepts that you've been exposed to? Some of you are chasing after lifestyles or beliefs but you don't know why. Think about what it is that you want to do and who you're doing it for.

[jewishvitya]

I just wanted to thank you so much for all of your insight and generosity with your perspective as an anti-zionist israeli, something you absolutely don't owe us but I feel immense amounts of respect and admiration for. from an American jew, it's been so valuable to know there are people like you out there, it's made everything feel much less hopeless despite all the hopelessness. I've felt very alone recently, surrounded by all the Jewish people in my life who are pro-israel and don't seem to grasp the gravity of the situation and my pro-palestine gentile friends, and I've felt very alone in my grief as I've only really started to unpack and dismantle my own biases very recently. reading your posts and your perspective on everything has just made me feel very seen as a jew in this situation, especially as I try to reconcile my feelings about everything going on with my own feelings about my faith and my identity.

you've probably seen that I've gone through a lot of your posts and that I've followed you. i just want you to know that I'm not necessarily following you just for that, I know you're just a fandom blog, it's just that after looking through your posts I feel like you're just a really nice person and seeing yoi on my dash from you would be endearing coming from you even though im not into it myself.

just. thank you again for sharing your story and continuing to share. you have no idea how much it's helped me.

I'm in tears. I've been crying way more than usual over the past couple of months, but it's nice for a change to have those tears to come from being touched instead of grief. I apologize if I'm going to ramble.

You say I didn't owe you all this, but I do feel responsible. I'm watching so much destruction and seeing how comfortable people around me are with the loss of life. This is why I've been talking about what we do and not as much about the impact of October 7 on me or people I know. I did a bit of that in the beginning, but pretending it was the start of everything to keep going back to that one day, after two months of horror, as if I can't count past 7... I didn't choose to be born where I am, I didn't choose to grow up in the most extremist community this place has to offer. But since I'm here, since I'm comfortable at the expense of Palestinians and violence is being done in my name and I have the tools to highlight issues within my society, I think it's a moral obligation.

I know how I talk about things here, and that's genuinely because I don't want to minimize the severity of the racism and the nationalism in Israel. And someone perceived my words as showing hatred for Israelis. But... I love my people. I don't expect those who see or experience our violence to feel the same or even understand me, but I do. It's my neighbors and my childhood friends and my family. It's children I see playing outside and getting excited when they see I have a cat, and the random people who stop me in the street and give me directions if they think I look lost.

Even growing up in the West Bank settlements, the people were very good to me. I needed years to internalize the fact that this kindness doesn't get extended to you if you're not part of the in-group. It broke my heart. It still does. Seeing people who I know are capable of kindness and compassion, hardening themselves against the pain of other human beings. Closing their eyes and telling themselves it isn't real. It's all an act.

I told a friend I feel like I'm betraying my mom, who was deeply bigoted, but also a wonderful mother. She taught me a lot of the principles that are guiding me now - I just took down the walls she put around who deserves to be considered. She'd be horrified with seeing the things I'm saying if she was still alive. But she taught me to care about people, I just decided it means all people.

Everyone should be prioritizing Palestinian liberation, and at the same time, I care about this too. I care about the morality of my people. I need us to be better than this. I want to dismantle the nationalism that teaches us hate and violence so we can start to heal and come to terms with what we did (and still do) here. I want us to fix what we can and hold ourselves accountable. I want us to reimagine safety in a way that doesn't cause harm, and build good relationships with the rest of humanity. Every marginalized community is experiencing bigotry in interactions with every other community, that's just how these things work. But I believe healing the world, and healing my society, is possible.

And it's hard, because so much of what we learn is rooted in truth. Antisemitism is real. Millennia of persecution are real. The trauma we carry is real. If the idea of an ethnostate makes us feel safe, and the idea of losing it makes us scared, how do we differentiate between fear as a natural reaction to antisemitic violence and fear that was taught to us for the sake of nationalism? Especially those of us living in Israel, immersed in the propaganda. It doesn't matter in practice, our feelings of safety or fear don't justify an ethnostate, especially not one built on top of another nation, but it matters for the conversations I have with people.

And I said that the violence I'm seeing feels like an attack on my identity. Seeing a giant hannukiyah in Gaza, when Hannukah tells the story of occupied people fighting off their oppressors. Seeing images that echo so much of the horrors that were done to us. The Magen David being used with hate and spite. It's all so painful. And I love this land, it's the only home I've known, so seeing us destroying nature and soaking it with blood and calling that connection?

Judaism does guide me here. The concept of tikkun olam. The idea of לא עליך המלאכה לגמור ולא אתה בין חורין לבטל ממנה - doing what I can, even if what I'm able to do isn't some decisive blow that entirely turns the tide. The idea that every human being is a whole entire world, to me it means that every single person alive is worth fighting for. So no matter how much death I see, there's still worlds more to save.

And Jewitches had this post that felt just healing to read. Nationalism hijacked our culture, and it will always leave a mark for centuries into the future. But I'm not letting go, and I'm not letting that create a rift between me and thousands of years full of history I can be proud of.

I feel your grief. And I'm grateful for the anti-zionist Jews I met by talking about this, because honestly, I need you people in my life. The pain and the anger are both easier to hold together.

So, thank you for following. I might follow back, just to see you around on my feed. And thank you for sending this. Feel free to message me anytime for any reason (I promise it won't result in a lecture every time).

Also, your url gave me pjo nostalgia

[tav-marcio-leles]

Part 1 | Part 2 (you’re here!—there’s only two parts)

Marcio really avoided cutting his hair; explanation below but spoiler warning:

Transcription below as well; scroll to the second red text.

Tw/ Suicide Mention

The combined pressure of:

grief for Father Lorgan

the young Harper jumping of Wyrm’s Crossing (immediately after Marcio was thinking to himself, “awe, he reminds me of a young Gale”) ontop of Gale’s declining mental health

the deal with Gortash

the doppelgänger in the party

freeing Wyll’s soul (possibly sentencing Wyll’s father to death)

All of that happened in the span of two days for Marcio. A lot to process and the least amount of control he’s had in his life. Everything spiraling into chaos for him just led him to walking away from camp and cutting his bun off.

I imagine Wyll found him and helped him clean up the rough cut—Marcio not having confirmed anyone’s identify being able to trust Wyll the most (given his patron knowing who’s soul belongs to who and not a doppelgänger). I imagine Wyll knows excellent hair-care, and he’s the most understanding/least judgmental. Plus, Marcio felt guilty cutting his hair right after Gale took the time to learn how to care for his hair type. He wouldn’t want Gale to find him like that.

Marcio probably wore his Wapira’s Crown until he confirmed Gale was Gale, and then this encounter happened. Sweet boys. Sweet, soft comfort.

Transcription:

Gale: You’ve joined me in my tent tonight. I’ve got doubt you’ve got something on your mind, so… Why do you hide, my love?

Marcio: You have to promise me you won’t get upset.

Gale: Quite the ask for a matter I have no insight into, but I’ve invested this must trust in you. What’s the harm in giving a little more. I promise I won’t be upset with you.

Marcio: I cut off most my hair…

Gale: Oh, Marcio. My love for you transcends whatever hairstyle you choose to have. Surely, you know that.

Marcio: I know…

Marcio: I feel terrible! You took the time to learn how to wash and style properly, and then I chopped it off regardless.

Gale: I was more than happy to learn. Not a waste of my time in the slightest.

Gale: You’ve been through a lot these last few days. Cutting or dying one’s hair is more of a common occurrence than you’d think. In periods of major stress—oh!

Gale: never done this before and doesn’t want to mess up | Marcio: Marcio’s first major cry

Marcio: Keep talking… please…

Gale: In periods of major stress, changing hairstyle can provide something to control amongst other uncontrollable things in life… trails off

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Wonderful World - Part 21**

Thanks for your patience with this one! Finally got around to finishing it! Series Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of grief, different topics relating to pregnancy, disowning, unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, cum play

WC: 10.1k

The Christmas holiday had been wonderful with Harry’s parents, Paul and Catherine. They were both so kind and warm towards her, Celeste, and Damian. Harry’s mom, Catherine, absolutely loved Disneyland, she even left with a pair of ears on her head that matched with Diana and Celeste’s. She had also taken a lot of care in getting to know Diana better, she would talk to her more than Harry at times. But Diana understood that she just wanted to get a feel for her and what her intentions were with her son. She did mentioned to Diana how much she loved to see Harry with Celeste; she brought a side out of him that she loved to see from her son. It brought a closeness between Catherine and Diana and even Damian, who had served as the sole paternal figure of sorts for Celeste until Harry came along into their lives.

Harry’s instinct about Celeste and his dad getting on well was correct. He, Celeste, and Paul did have a jam session or two during their visit. Paul was so smart and gentle, like Harry. It was evident to her that he really wanted to nourish his relationship with Harry and they spent a lot of time together when they didn’t have plans with Diana and her family.

Harry shared with her that he had of course explained to them how they were proceeding with sharing their relationship with Celeste soon. They had decided to do so after the New Year, they’d have breakfast and talk about it with her. And he told Diana that his parents were very insightful and offered him some advice about how to proceed in this relationship, which Harry took to heart because he truly wanted the relationship to succeed with Diana. 

************

Damian had started to join Harry for his workout sessions while he was in town and it gave them a chance to get to know each other better as well. Harry had learned a lot about Damian and Diana’s family, their dynamic, and of course with her permission, Damian shared a lot of the things that were a bit harder for her to share with others about her family life growing up. Damian of course, wanted to ensure that he wasn’t giving Harry the lowdown on his sister for nothing at all, so as they had some coffee after their workout he decided to bring this up.

“Hey, so obviously I think you’re a great guy and you’ve really come through for Di and Celeste.”

“Yeah, it’s been wonderful to do so.” Harry assured.

“Yeah? Not too crazy?” Damian asked with a smile.

“I mean, a little crazy at times…” he confessed, “But not in a bad way at all.” He smiled.

“Well thank you for sticking around.”

“I said I’d do my best to.” He reminded and Damian smiled.

“So this whole thing with Di? I mean you think it’s the real deal?” He asked and Harry nodded.

“Oh definitely.” He smiled, “I’ve never felt more complete or happy with the way things are going with her. And now that Celeste is more or less wanting this to happen between us, it seems like the perfect time to give it a real shot. We’ve talked about it, what we want, and we’re on the same page.” 

“And what is that?”

“We want to have a life together eventually. We want our relationship to progress as normally as possible, no rushing into anything just because the feelings are there, you know?”Damian nodded, “Obviously, her life is already established with Celeste and we also don’t want to make abrupt changes. Like we’re still gonna have our own places, keep our relationship as private as possible so that we can work on things together without any pressure from Celeste-”

“Good call. She is eager for you two to get together.” He chuckled and Harry did as well.

“I know…we’re going to tell her after New Year’s. Just going to have a proper chat with her about it and share what we want. What boundaries we’re going to have, that sort of thing.”

“Good. She can be real meddlesome…” Damian chuckled, “Especially if she’s invested.”

“Oh, I am aware…” Harry smiled. “But yeah, this is not just a placeholder for me. This is what I want. I mean, I didn’t know it until it was happening that I was…missing something, you know?”

“I ummm…I don’t actually. Not yet, at least.” Damian admitted with a bit of embarrassment.

“That’s alright. I mean, is it something you want?” He asked and Damian smiled.

“Not yet…or like, I haven’t felt that yet. Ever.”

“You’ve never had your heart broken?” Harry asked and Damian shook his head.

“Nope, never…”

“Really?” He asked in a bit of disbelief.

“Yeah…” Damian chuckled, “I have had a lot of relationships and it’s not like I never cared about those people but I just don’t…want everything else. And of course, the women I’m with think they’ll change my mind if they take good care of me and all…and when it comes up and I tell them that nothing has changed for me, they get hurt and so I…feel like an ass.”

“Some people are just meant to be alone, you know?”

“Well, I’m the heir to my parents’ empire, they expect me to have an heir of my own so…that’s where it gets a bit weird.” He chuckled and Harry nodded in understanding.

“And Di is just, completely out of the picture?” He asked.

“Oh yeah…I mean, after what happened at your practice my mom said herself that she would always hold that against her. She’s never broken a promise to me in my entire life so…”

“Fuck…I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t be. You were right in what you did. No one as ever stood up to her or ever called her out for any of it except Diana. My dad isn’t like that but he…he’d rather not go up against her. She’s the boss.” He chuckled.

“Women are always the boss.” Harry smiled.

“They are smarter…” Damian confessed, “There’s this woman from our branch in Spain? Lola.” He smiled and Harry nodded, “She’s just an assistant but man is she fucking brilliant.” He smiled, “Her boss, our chief marketing strategist for that branch, runs all his ideas by her. I overheard it once before a big board meeting. She was explaining to him what it was he needed to say. After the meeting, which he totally rocked, I approached her about it, she played dumb…I told her I saw and overheard it as they were prepping and I offered a new job and a raise and she turned it down. Said she was happy doing what she was doing. Says it every time I bring it up to her.”

“Do you like her?” Harry asked.

“She’s fascinating but no. Kind of reminds me of Di, so I look out for her a lot.” He explained, “She’s fucking brilliant, you know? Diana got into Columbia all on her own.”

“Yeah, she told me about that.” Harry smiled.

“I know she’s been through a lot of shit but sometimes I wonder what her life would be like if none of it would have happened, you know? Where would she be? Where would I be?”

“Where do you think she’d be?”

“In Mexico City, buried beneath a mountain of HR paperwork at our corporation’s HQ.” He said and Harry couldn’t envision that. “She got accepted into the Business Management concentration at Columbia, very competitive as an undergrad. She minored in psychology, wanted to do things along the social psychology area though and then do graduate work in HR Management. She didn’t want to be in the business. But there was a whole fucking plan, obviously, it wasn’t really her plan…” Damian explained, “It’s what she was expected to do. So she had to spin it in a way in which she could still do something she cared about so that she could…survive. I mean, she’s always loved and cared for people, so I think she would’ve been alright going down that route for a bit. But I think she would’ve been put in challenging situations that made her choose things that in her eyes weren’t right. And I don’t know if I’m awful for saying this, but as much pain as she’s experienced, maybe it was for the best? Because she would be so miserable. Absolutely hate her life if it were anything other than this…” Damian said, “She’s happy now, doing something she loves.”

“How’d she get into the whole Spanish thing?”

“Well in terms of our culture, she’s always loved it, since we were kids. She was taking a class at Columbia about Latin American culture as an elective and well, when she transferred to another school she just stuck with that because she really liked it. I supposed it was also a comfort thing for her. There was so much pain and uncertainty in her life at that time that it was easier to stick to something she knew well and was familiar with, you know?”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Harry hummed, “But I think you’re right, she’s much happier doing what she loves, free to choose for herself than to be stuck doing something she hates. And well, we would’t have Celeste…” Harry said.

“Exactly. I think everything happens for a reason. And well, my sister’s life had gone according to my parents’ plan until she refused to terminate her pregnancy. She lost a lot, but she gained her freedom and found herself and I think that’s the most important thing to her anyway. And well, ultimately all of those things led you two together, which also has been great for her and Celeste. So I have to believe it all happened how it was supposed to.”

“Who knows, but I assure you that as long as she wants me in her life, I will be here and I will take care of her and Celeste.”

“I know you will. I trust you with them, that’s big for me.” Damian shared.

“Well thank you for trusting me.”

“You’ve earned it.” Damian assured. “If I knew that my family could be…different, I think I would be more open to marriage and kids…but my parents are just great at…sucking the life out of everything. I don’t want to bring anyone into that. Seems very irresponsible to me.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Harry nodded, “It’s why I never wanted kids of my own.”

“Your sweet old parents traumatized you?!” Damian asked in surprise and Harry chuckled.

“I think all of our parents traumatize us in a way. They’re wonderful people, don’t get me wrong, but when you’re a child you just want them around. And I grew up feeling like they loved their work more than me. And being the child of two renowned psychiatrists brings a crippling self awareness at a very young age.” He chuckled, “I viewed my parents exactly as they are from a very young age. Just regular, flawed people who made good and bad choices, like everyone else…” he sighed, “And I was resentful for a long time. The idea of coming to America, not wanting to have kids, that was initially born out of spite for them. Like Diana, I wanted my freedom. But as I got older and I fell in love with the field for myself I realized that my plan to leave and not reproduce was still what I wanted, just my intentions were wrong before. I didn’t and still don’t want to take on the legacy of what they’ve built across Europe. I think it’s great, but they hardly get to practice, which is where my heart lies. I’ve poured myself into my work and that wouldn’t be fair to my partner or my child, you know?”

“Exactly!” Damian agreed with enthusiasm, “I felt like my work with the family was an obligation before but when I delved in I fell in love with it. And I’m good at it, better than my father is. I want to make it better and that requires a lot of my time and dedication.” He said, “So, did your mind change about what you wanted? Like do you want to have kids now? With my sister?”

“Oh no, I also just don’t like babies.” Harry confessed and Damian chuckled but nodded. “Diana and I are on the same page with that. We’ve checked in again about it because well, we’re not getting any younger.” Harry shrugged, “But ummm, yeah she doesn’t want that and I don’t either. Celeste is enough for the both of us.”

“I think Di might also be a bit…traumatized about pregnancy and babies and that kind of thing. I mean, she did it all on her own, I was there when I could be, which she overestimates. I should’ve just moved back here t-to help her out more…I’ll always regret that.” He said and Harry frowned but nodded, “She just had such a hard time that I think if she did it again, even with a partner it would just fuck her up for a bit.”

“Yeah, understandably so.” Harry agreed, “I mean, at the end of the day I think we just want to make each other happy and we both agree that we don’t need that to be happy. We’ve not chosen ourselves for a long time, so this is for us. Just for us.” Harry smiled.

“Good. That’s good…” Damian smiled.

****************

The New Year came and went and Diana got a bit too nervous about telling Celeste about her and Harry. So she spoke to him and they postponed it and gave themselves one more week, and boy was that week becoming very challenging for Diana…

Specially after spending the holidays with Harry’s family, Celeste was more pushy than ever. Diana’s anxiety was getting even more out of hand. She had never known Celeste to be this defiant with her over something, but she was constantly having to ask her to please stop meddling in what she wanted for her future. But it seemed that Celeste wasn’t understanding the havoc it was wreaking on Diana’s emotions. To Celeste it seemed like playful teasing or something, but to Diana it felt suffocating. 

Diana was aware that she had major abandonment issues, not just because of Wesley’s passing, but from the way her parents distanced themselves from her so suddenly, and then from Wesley’s parents as well; the people who had loved her so much and treated her like their own with such warmth and kindness. She hoped to find comfort with them, to be able to grieve with them and to count on them for support with Celeste. After all, she was their grand daughter, but his parents never really recovered from the loss and also cut off all contact. All of Celeste’s persistence was making her feel trapped and afraid of what she wanted with Harry. What if something happened to him too? That was the fear that prevented her from letting people in for all these years and it had been growing steadily and had just reached it’s boiling point.

“Baby, what’s the matter?” Harry asked Diana as he pulled her into his arms as she sobbed hard. He walked them back inside her house where it was warm. It was nearly 2am and freezing cold outside and he didn’t want her getting sick right before school started. But she just cried and cried for several minutes in his arms. Celeste was gone at a sleepover at Geri’s, so thankfully, no one was home but them two and she could say everything she wanted to say, so she did.

She told him how Celeste kept pushing her and it was making her nervous about her not respecting the boundaries they wanted to set. She told him about how she considered backing out and staying alone instead of being with him how she wanted to because it would just be easier. She told him how she feared for her heart, how she feared another loss, how she feared letting their lives entangle even deeper. She shared the internal war she was at with her head and her heart. She shared her anxieties, her hopes, and her desires. She had poured her heart out to him in a way she never had before. It was chaotic and painful, but it was also extremely vulnerable and motivated by her need for love. Not just any love, his love. She needed to know that he could still love her through all of this and most importantly, be patient with her.

It was essentially a verbal brain dump, he couldn’t take any of her feelings too personally. All of her fears were valid and he couldn’t even guarantee to her that he wouldn’t abandon her in the way she feared, that was completely out of his control. Of course, voluntarily, he would be there for as long as he could be, but sometimes shit happens and accidents happen and there’s no way to prevent that, as she had experienced already. But Harry could see that she didn’t want to give up, she was just feeling so pressured and overwhelmed. Obviously, Harry knew that Celeste didn’t intend to be badgering her mom, she just wanted to know, to be let in, probably even to gush over her love life with her the way Diana had done with her over Ben. Diana also expressed that she just couldn’t blow up on Celeste over this, she wasn’t being rude or anything, but even as Diana kindly tried to emphasize that she just needed privacy to deal with this for a bit, Celeste was stubborn.

“-it’ just feels like a lot emotionally, you know?” She sighed before inhaling shakily and he squeezed her had, his thumb running over her knuckles soothingly.

“Yeah, it is, love.”

“I just don’t know if it’s fair to you that I’m so…flighty.” She frowned and he smiled.

“Love, the last thing you are is flighty.” He assured, “You are so consistent and responsible, and on top of your things. And this is an area of your life which you haven’t really explored or prioritized in a while, you know? So it’s going to take some getting used to, yeah?”

“Yeah.” She mumbled, “You make me so happy. But I’m still terrified of just getting it out there.” She explained.

“I’m scared too.” He confessed, “But I trust you with my heart. I don’t know what life will throw at us at any point, but I do believe that you will always have my best interest at heart. And I promise I too have your best interest at heart.”

“I do and I know you do too.” she confirmed, “I feel the same about you. I’m just afraid to really let myself feel happy about this because I…I just don’t want our time t-to be cut short.”

“Oh my love, c’mere.” He hummed and she nestled herself into his arms. Her back rested against his chest as he kissed the side of her head. “You can’t think like that all the time.” He advised, “Think of all the time we’ll have instead versus the time we won’t have. Better to enjoy everything now, day by day, yeah? Focus on the memories we get to make and how our relationship will grow and keep getting better?”

“You’re right.” She responded. The feeling of his chest rising and falling with his breaths made Diana feel more present. “Thank you for coming over and listening to all this. It can’t be easy to hear it.”

“I’ll always listen to how you feel, Di. Love you.”

“I love you too.” She responded and he kissed her head again. They just sat like that together in the silence for a little bit, “Wanna stay with me?” She asked quietly, she was a bit shy to ask but she didn’t want him to go now that he was here.

“Yeah, baby. I’ll stay with you.” He smiled through his confirmation.

Soon enough they were heading up the stairs and into her bedroom. It was a bit colder in her room with the big glass doors not providing too much insulation, but that was alright with him, if they got cold they could just cuddle up closer. He climbed into the side of the bed opposite she slept on and soon they were facing each other, her face was buried in his neck. Her soft breaths were tickling his skin as he smoothed his hand up and down the curve of her hip. Then Harry felt her lips pucker up right at the base of his jaw and he smiled. She then did it again before sucking gently.

“Is this alright?” She mumbled into his heated skin and he swallowed.

“Yeah, baby.” He barely got out before her soft sucks against the sensitive skin of his neck started to make all of the excitement swirl up in his tummy. His fingers were now holding tight to her as her sucks intensified. She was leaving a mark and that made him run absolutely wild. After a few more seconds she pulled off and kissed up his jaw, pecking right at the corner of his lip.

“Cheeky girl.” He hummed and she smiled.

“I’ve missed you.” She whispered. Diana was still a bit timid to fully initiate sex with him, she was working up to it, hoping he’d ask first.

“Really? It’s only been a few days…” he teased and she grinned.

“I can’t help it.” She shrugged and he chuckled, “You didn’t miss me?” She asked and he hummed playfully, “Be nice to me…” she mumbled which made Harry kiss her forehead.

“Course I did, baby. You’re constantly on my mind if you’re not close by.” He confirmed softly and she nuzzled closer to him, “Mmmm baby, how do I say ‘kiss me’ in Spanish?” He hummed inquisitively and she grinned as she reared back a bit to try and get some sort of a glimpse of him despite the darkness.

“Se dice, ‘bésame’.” She said quietly, her lips nearly skimming his own. Harry grinned and in a quick and smooth movement he had her under him. One of his big, warm hands was holding her face as he dipped down. His lips tickling and skimming against her own from how close they were.

“Bésame.” He whispered. She could practically taste him saying the words and forming them with his lips. 

Diana let out a breathy exhale as she arched up while tugging him down to allow their eager mouths to meet. From the get-go the kiss was intense. His hips were pressing against hers, she could feel him steadily growing in his pants as they continued smearing their lips together with the same urgency of two teenagers who could get caught at any second. Her hands were roaming the expanse of his back, feeling up his muscular physique to her heart’s content. 

“Get this off.” she muttered as she tugged at his shirt and Harry knelt up and stripped it off his body swiftly. She raised her arms up and he pulled her top off as well. He dipped down and pecked her quickly before sinking lower and sucking one of her nipples between his lips as his hand came up and grabbed her other breast. He kneaded her soft skin in his hands before sucking over that nipple as well. He loved to hear her whimpering beneath him, humping up against his muscular thigh in desperate need of some friction.

“Want me to inside you?” He asked gruffly.

“Yes, baby. Please…” she moaned and he kissed her deeply and rolled off of her to get undressed the rest of the way. He then helped her out and right before he could get his mouth on her she was pulling him up by the hair. “Do that later.” She panted and he grinned before kissing her as she reached down to find his erection and line it up with her entrance.

“Damn baby, so fucking wet f’me.” He panted and he felt his cock basking in the slick warmth between her legs. “Shit…Can I put it in, love?” 

“Yeah baby, put it in.” She sighed with urgency. 

With her confirmation, Harry snapped his hips up and his thick head pushed into her entrance and she inhaled sharply as her fingernails dug into his bare back. Harry groaned in response and breathed in her shaky exhales as he rolled his hips down against hers. His cock was sliding through her tight walls at the perfect pace. In and out. In and out. Delving in deep and reaching spots that were making her tingle and then moan his name. He gradually started going a bit harder and deeper with each thrust; he loved the sound of their bodies meeting, soft wet sounds that he wanted engraved into his memory forever and ever.

“Shit, you feel so good around my big cock…” he grunted and Diana whimpered and clamped her walls down around him, “You want more, don’t you?” He grinned and she nodded and he took that as his cue to fuck into her harder than before. He was pounding her so deep that her bed frame was creaking beneath them. And soon a rhythmic thumping against the wall in perfect time with his deep grunts joined in the symphony of their gentle and desperate sin. His moans and soft sounds of satisfaction were making Diana’s brain melt to mush. She gasped and her back started arched up when Harry rubbed into her clit, it was all swollen and slippery with a blend of their arousal. He was enjoying watching her eyes roll back and then squeeze shut; he loved watching her lose herself in him. “Fuck baby, you’re right there, aren’t you? Gonna come on my cock?”

“Yeah, Harry…fuck ju-just a little bit faster!” She mewled her request and he picked up the pace and in moments he felt her walls suffocating his cock, creating the most wonderful feeling around him. It felt as though he was being pulled deeper into her and he moaned and even went a little lightheaded as he allowed his hips to move however he needed to get him off. Harry’s desperation for his own orgasm was pushing her over that coveted precipice. And finally, she tipped over the edge. Her entire body was vibrating with ecstasy as the rush of pleasure crashed over her and rolled her in its currents. Her skin was covered in goosebumps, her inhales were shallow, and her moans melodious as the feelings pumped through her veins. She felt her ears ringing as the pleasure reached the top of her head, her body was completely tense as she hung on to the feeling for as long as she could.

  “Oh fuck, baby…shit, I’m gonna come!” He groaned. He pounded away into her a couple more times, feeling her writhing beneath his body as his pulsing balls drew up tight, getting ready to unload his hot cum deep inside of her, “Fuck baby, there it is…Fuuuck yes.” He moaned as he pressed deep inside of her as he filled her up with gush after gush of his sperm. She grabbed his face and kissed him deeply as he fell over her. They kissed until they started getting all hot and bothered again. 

Their make out session was heated and needy. He didn’t dare pull out of her yet, he wasn’t even going completely soft, so he was tucked into her, keeping them connected until he mumbled that he wanted to go down on her. He kissed all the way down to her swollen and glistening folds and licked at her clit and made her come a couple times with his fingers nestled against her g-spot. He was fucking his load of sperm back into her pussy with them until she was trembling and nearly incoherent, begging him to stop. He kissed back up her body and locked lips with hers, letting her taste the lovely mess they’d made together. They were both sweaty heaps catching their breaths on Diana’s bed. Her fingers were raking through his sweaty, brown curls while he kissed up and down the inside of her fore arm.

“You’re so hot.” She whispered with a grin and his lips twitched up in a smirk.

“Thank you. So are you, baby.” He hummed back.

“You’re too good at what you do, Harry…why are you so good at sex?” She asked and he chuckled.

“I’m only interested in being good at everything I do, not just sex.” He said smugly and she smiled. “But I’m glad you think I’m good at it. Want to be good for you.” He hummed and she smiled as she kissed his damp curls.

“Should we have a shower?”

“Yeah, baby.” He hummed and he told her to go ahead while he stripped the bed and put everything in the washer before he joined her. That had at least given her time to wash her hair. She was able to finish up before him and get some new sheets out. He soon joined her and helped her set up the bed again before they got dressed and cuddled against each other, both of them shivering as they adjusted to the temperature.

“I think we should talk to Celeste tomorrow. You can pick her up from Geri’s and I can make us some early dinner. Or vice versa.” She said and he nodded.

“Yeah, we can do that. Can I bring Misty tomorrow? Don’t want to leave her alone all day.”

“Yeah, fine…as long as she doesn’t come in here, cat hair’s the worst.” She said and he hummed.

“Well you’re in luck, she’s hypoallergenic!”

“They still shed…”

“Minimally, love.” He said and she sighed, “You still scared of her?”

“I always will be.” She admitted and she chuckled and kissed her shoulder. “She can be around though, Celeste loves her.”

“OK, love.”

“So how are we gonna do this, logistically speaking? Maybe Celeste must have plans at least once a month so we can have a couple days during the escape room weekends.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant…” he mused.

“I know, huh? I’ve had lots of time to think about it.” She smiled.

“My parents really loved you and Celeste, you know?”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmmm, but now my mom’s even more bummed about the no babies thing.” He said and she giggled, “Said they’d look like little angels…I think she’s right, they’d be real cute.” He hummed and she smiled.

“Yeah, I think so too…” she hummed.

“Do you think you’d ever change your mind?” He asked and she hummed.

“Maybe…but just pregnancy is not something I want to do again. I think it was just such a dark time in my life that like…I feel like it would emotionally make me or break me.” She explained. “I know before I mentioned just not wanting to have a baby again…but it’s more complicated than that. I think…I mean, I have thought about it, if we had kids. I think we’re both mature enough and of sound mind…” she explained and he smiled, “And I know it would be very different this time around in terms of the level of support I’d have. But physically I think I would have a hard time with it, just because of before. I think my body would react badly to a pregnancy, like I just feel it in my gut.” She explained, “And I mean, I feel like I have everything I want and need, so I would hate to put myself and risk and not be there for Celeste. You know?”

“Yeah, of course. And I mean, pregnancy was very emotionally traumatic for you. I get that, love.”

“D-do you see yourself changing your mind about this?” She asked him nervously.

“I could, but only if you really wanted it. I don’t think we would be missing out at all if we don’t have a baby. Besides, if Grace gets pregnant then we’ll have a baby around for quite a while…we could share with them, they’re such going-out types, I’m sure we’d be the default babysitters. And I’m certain a few hours with the baby would be more than enough to keep us set in our decision to not have our own baby.” He shared and she laughed a bit.

“Yeah, that’s true…I just don’t want to make you not have something because of my bad experience, you know?”

“Well thank you for thinking of me, but I assure you, we both make that decision here, but you hold the most weight to it. Honestly, I have what I need with you and Celeste, I don’t need anything else.” He assured her.

“What if we get a dog? A small one though? They can play with Misty.”

“Yeah, I like dogs.” He smiled.

“More than cats?” She asked and he chuckled.

“Admittedly, yes. Cats can be very temperamental, but I got so lucky with Misty, she’s such an easy one.”

“She really is…she’s quite similar to you actually, even tempered, easygoing, energetic, a little clingy…”

“Am I?” He smiled and she giggled and nodded.

“Yeah, but I like it.” She assured him, “It’s nice to have someone around who wants to be around, you know?”

“Yeah, definitely.” He smiled.

“Can I ask you something? We don’t have to talk about if you don’t want, but ummm, what about Rebecca? Like is that something that still bothers you? Or is it fine now?”

“Like the cheating or the baby?” He asked.

“Both, I guess…”

“Well, the cheating I got over. I think if I had been a lot more in love with her it would have been a lot harder to deal with. But like, we were trying really hard to make it work and to be happy, almost forcing it to work, you know? By then I had already…started to be interested in you, I mean, well you know that.” He smiled bashfully and she hummed. “So yeah, I was just more upset that she was feeling the strain and never said anything to me and let it get to that point. I mean, I was trying to make it work, but maybe I should’ve said something first?” He explained and she nodded. “And with the baby…I mean, I’m happy for her. It seems that Eddie brought out a more relaxed side of her, which is good.” Harry said. “It did kind of send me into an existential spiral at first…made me wonder if maybe I just wasn’t good enough for her. Like I personally don’t prefer to have kids, but I thought I was gonna marry her so I was like “sure, if you really want ‘em with me”. But ummm, I just felt a bit inadequate for a minute there.” 

“Have you talked since?” Diana asked him.

“Yeah, a couple of times. Mostly to refer some of her clients for evaluations or services, or to be an expert witness…have that coming up soon.”

“Ooh, have to go to court?”

“Yep.” He chuckled. “But yeah, we talk from time to time. We’re on good terms.”

“That’s really good to know. My mom always said that only bad partners are on bad terms with their exes.”

“Oh…I quite like that…” Harry hummed and she smiled into the silence. 

“Yeah…do you have any questions for me?” She asked and he sighed.

“Yeah, tons…when I was talking to your brother he said that like, even though all of this was really painful for you to attain, that this was your best outcome. And I guess I’m wondering if you…agree with that?”

“Yeah, I do.” She answered quickly without any hesitation. “I don’t regret anything about my life now, I mean…I do wish my relationship was better with my whole family. But say I listened to my mom and terminated my pregnancy, the judgement would still be there from everyone. Probably even worse as my extended family is still really influenced by Catholicism and they’re very intolerant of abortion or divorce for really any reason. So even if I assumed the position my family wanted me in, I would still be an outsider. But ultimately, I think I am where I need to be. I love the life I have with Celeste. I love teaching, so much. I love getting to make my own choices. I love not having to be around all that pressure; I would surely break.” She chuckled dryly.

“Oh I don’t think you would break, baby. You’re one of the strongest persons I’ve ever met.” He said with certainty, “But I think that eventually you would have to get out. Not because you aren’t strong enough to deal with. Quite the opposite actually. You’d have the strength and courage that it takes to walk away from all of it. I don’t think that life was meant for you, you know?”

“Yeah, definitely not. I am very happy with what I have going on now.” She confirmed and he smiled. “I’m happy with you.”

“Good. I’m happy with you too.” He whispered.

**************

The following morning Diana was a little more on edge. She had woken up before Harry and had a body shower. She had her coffee and then made breakfast, which woke Harry up. He was quick to wash up as well and join her. There was some music playing softly from her phone that had her slightly swaying her hips as she did something over the sink. Harry walked up quietly before hugging around her hips. She froze in surprise before melting into his touch.

“G’morning.” She greeted sweetly as he smushed a big kiss to her temple.

“Morning, baby.” He mumbled. “What can I do to help?” He asked lowly, his voice still raspy from its lack of use over the night.

“Can you dice those peppers up for me?” She said shooting a glance to the cutting board with a red and green pepper already laid out.

“Sure.” He smiled and headed over. She glanced over a few times but stopped when she saw him properly dice the first little bit. “Am I doing something wrong?” He asked her when he caught her final glance.

“Nope. You’ve got it.” She smiled and he chuckled.

“S’this a good size?” He asked and she glanced back over with a grin.

“Yes, chef.” She winked and he chuckled and proceeded with his task. “Do you like the potato skin or nah?” She asked.

“I do.” He responded.

“Perfect!” She exclaimed, “Saves me the trouble of peeling…” she mumbled quietly to herself and he smiled, “Mmmm nope…c'mere.” She mumbled and Harry glanced over and giggled.

“Who? Me?” He asked glancing back in confusion.

“No, sorry.” She giggled, “A potato was rolling away.” She explained and soon came up beside him and set up to chop the potatoes. In moments she was flawlessly dicing up a potato. Harry stopped his own task just to watch how gracefully she worked, swiftly and silently. When she realized he was just staring she cracked a smile and then stopped to glanced up at him. “What?”

“Nothing, keep working.” He hummed.

“Okay…?” She said and he cocked his head to the side.

“M’no, you’re supposed to say “yes, chef” when I tell you to do something.”

“Oh, OK. Ask again.” She played along.

“Keep working, Di.”

“Yes, chef.” She said with a pleasant smile and he chuckled.

“You’re cute.”

“Thank you.” She smiled and he chuckled and then continued his own chopping. 

It made them both so happy that this is what every day could look like in the future. This was lovely and peaceful and comforting. It was worth working towards and with this in mind Diana decided to stop being afraid of Celeste. She knew that she was supportive of her and Harry dating now so that made her feel easier about the conversation. After breakfast Harry went home to feed Misty and then get showered and changed. Diana did a similar thing, she tidied around the house before getting some lasagna going because Harry had really liked it last time and Celeste also really loved it. She was just about preheat the oven when Celeste’s call came in and she wiped her hands on her apron before picking up.

“Hi, mamita!” Diana greeted cheerfully.

“Hey, just wondering what time you were planning on coming to get me?” She asked.

“Actually Harry’s gonna go pick you up. He was planning on being there around 3 and he’s gonna come over for dinner, is that good?”

“Oh yeah, perfect! We wanted to go to this new boba place real quick!”

“Yeah, you guys have time. Just get a small size though, I made lasagna for dinner.”

“Yes!” She cheered lowly and Diana chuckled a bit.

“Alright. Be safe. I’ll tell Harry to text you when he’s heading out.”

“Okay thanks, mom. See you later!”

“See ya, love you.”

“Loveyoubye.” She said quickly before hanging up. 

Diana finished layering the lasagna just in time for the oven to reach the designated temperature and she got it inside and set the timer on her phone before hurrying up to have a shower and get changed. She was mentally rehearsing how she wanted to share this with Celeste and when. Should they eat and then talk, or talk first and then eat? Or talk while they ate? Diana was getting on some light makeup on her as she considered these things. Time seemed to fly by because the unmistakable whir of their property gate opening pulled her from her thoughts. She quickly finished applying her mascara before hurrying to her closet and picking out what she wanted to wear. After settling on some jeans, a white t-shirt and an oversized baby blue cardigan, she got into her slippers just as the front door was opening.

“Mom, we’re home!” Celeste called loudly and Diana exhaled before heading downstairs. She could hear them sayin how it smelled delicious and how they needed to find a good place to put Misty’s food and water bowl. She was about to reach the last few steps when Misty stopped at the staircase and then peered up at her expectantly.

“Oh please, don’t.” Diana mumbled to herself lowly as Misty put a paw on the bottom step and sniffled at it. She made a move to head down but with a heavier step to try and startle her away. The cat recoiled a bit and then glanced up at her with curios eyes. She was about to ask one of them to come get her when Harry came around from the kitchen and she sighed in relief. “Thank god.” She sighed and he laughed.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Just a few moments.” She said and he hummed. “Can you tell her to move or just grab her.”

“Di, I think you ought to face your fear. Just step down and she’ll get out of the way.”

“You don’t think I tried that already?”

“Come on, love. She’s real sweet.” He assured and she glanced down at the cat now rubbing up against Harry’s legs. Suddenly Celeste walked over and her eyes lit up at the scene before her and then started to laugh.

“Wait, how long have you been there?” She questioned.

“Not long.” Diana sighed at yet another question about her being stuck on the staircase.

“You guys match!” Celeste observed with a smile and then you glanced over at Harry and he chuckled.

“Great minds, kid.” He said to Celeste and she chuckled and nodded in agreement. “So are we having dinner on the staircase or are you gonna come down?” He asked and Celeste smirked at her, awaiting her response to Harry’s question.

“Tell you what, I need to go to the bathroom. When I’m out, you need to be down here by whatever means possible.” Celeste said and Diana rolled her eyes.

“OK, you go do that. Please, take your time.” She insisted and Celeste smirked as she kept on walking to the bathroom and disappearing from their line of sight.

“C’mon love, she’s not going to hurt you. I promise.” Harry appealed to Diana once more.

“I just don’t want her anywhere near my ankles. Just pick her up please. I will even put her head! I just need her away from my ankles.” 

“OK, deal.” He said crouching down and easily picking Misty up in one hand by her tummy and then settling her against his side and Diana descended the rest of the steps.

“Do we tell her before or after we eat?” Diana asked as she reached out slowly. She flinched a bit when Misty’s cool, damp nose nudged at her fingertips, sniffing her out a bit.

“I think so because she told me she had the medium sized bubble tea.” Harry chuckled and Diana sighed and then reached up and touched the soft fur in between Misty’s ears and then scratched a bit which made Misty relax into Harry’s hold and she closed her eyes. “She’s purring. She likes it.” He told her and Diana smiled a bit as she started to hear the very soft and low hums herself. “Are you nervous?”

“Of course.” She said quietly as her eyes met Harry’s, he looked calm, the kind of calm she wanted to be right about now, “What the fuuu-?!” She gasped and pulled away startling Misty. She shook her hand and Harry laughed.

“What?”

“She licked me! I was not mentally prepared to feel that texture on my hand.” She said through her laugh and he joined her as well.

“Why are you nervous?” He asked her and she bit her lip.

“I don’t know…”

“You do.” He insists.

“What if…things just…”

“Don’t work out?” He asked and she nodded.

“I don’t want to…open this up and give her hope that we can be a family one day and then something goes wrong and she loses you.”

“Love, I mean this with so much care and love, but this isn’t about Celeste. Pain and disappointment are a sad reality of life, you know that.” He said and she sighed, “But the wonderful thing about life is also that when you have people to share those hard times with, it makes them more tolerable. I can’t promise that I’ll be perfect or that I won’t hurt and disappoint you every now and again, I’m only human.” He chuckled, “But I can promise to do everything I can to ensure that we have open and honest communication and that we set realistic expectations of what we can do to make each other feel happy and safe with the time we have together.” He said and she nodded, she was petting at Misty’s head again, her eyes focused on her sweet little face as she took in Harry’s words, “Di, look at me.” He insisted and she glanced up at him, “I love you. And I love Celeste. So we’re all gonna be okay.” He said with a soft and sincere smile.

“I love you too.” She whispered with a smile. “Thank you for being so patient with me.”

“Of course, always.” He responded and then they headed off to the kitchen. Misty was now exploring about and Harry was opening a bottle of wine when Celeste walked back in.

“Did she touch the cat?” Celeste asked Harry and Diana whipped around quickly.

“I did.” Diana confirmed with a small smile.

“Dang it…” she mumbled as she hopped up onto one of the stools under the kitchen island and Harry chuckled.

“Di, do you want a glass?”

“Please.” She responded.

“Mamita, do you want anything before we eat?”

“No, I’ll wait. I didn’t get the small boba.” She confessed.

“So I heard.” She smiled at her briefly and Celeste glanced to Harry.

“Traitor.” She said with a small smile.

“She’s not mad is she?” Harry asked as he poured Diana her glass of wine.

“Fair.” She mumbled as she watched Diana just looking at Harry, waiting for him to finish up. Once he handed over her glass Diana grabbed it and brought it to her lips before starting to drink it down. Harry was serving himself so he didn’t see, but this was surprising to Celeste and her eyes widened as she finished the glass and then set it down. “Ummm, mom are you alright?” She asked her and Diana glanced up at her looking slightly embarrassed at being caught by her young daughter as she guzzled down some alcohol. At this Harry glanced over to her too and she started to feel nervous again.

“I am, but ummm, I do need to talk to you about something.” She said and Celeste nodded, “It’s a more or less a serious conversation which I am feeling a little nervous about,” she admitted, “so ummm, that’s why I did that. Sorry, if that worried you.”

“Well, seems like I should be worried.” Celeste said, her demeanor visibly more tense as the uncertainty of the topic at hand settled in.

“It’s not a bad thing.” Diana said and then glanced to Harry for some help and he was currently having some of his wine as well. His own nerves getting the best of him. Celeste looked between the two of them waiting for more information.

“Ummm…okay…” she said as she looked between them some more.

“Do you want more wine?” He asked her.

“Please.” Diana hummed and Harry came over to the island and grabbed her glass and served her some more and she glanced down at it and exhaled shakily, she was struggling to breathe in again until she felt Harry’s warmth closer than before and she glanced to her side to see him giving her a small reassuring smile as he nodded. She then inhaled and turned back to Celeste.

“You’re freaking me out.” Celeste said with concern and Diana groaned softly.

“I’m sorry, I’m just bad at this and I’m a bit nervous.” She confessed, “But ummm, I know that you’ve been ummm… interested a little more in my love life as of late.” Diana started, “And ummm, I just wanted to tell you that…well ummm….” She said as she glanced up at Harry who just nodded, “We’re ummm…Harry and I-” as soon as she heard this her mouth widened in a surprised smile and her eyes widened.

“You’re gonna date? You two?” She interrupted and Diana glanced back at Harry who was smiling at her already before looking back to Celeste and they nodded.

“I-is that alright?” Harry asked and she grinned. And grabbed her phone and started typing something in quickly and moment’s later Handel’s Hallelujah chorus came through the speakers on her phone as she sang along goofily, “Fi-na-llyyyyy!” She groaned dramatically after a few seconds and Diana and Harry laughed at her theatrics.

“Alright, alright the serious part of the conversation still needs to happen.” Harry said and she paused the song and nodded, but she was beaming, anxiously waiting for the next part. “So ummm, as you know, this is something new for your mum, and well you too.” Harry started, “And I know it can be…exciting,” he said and she nodded, “but ummm, for y-your mum it’s also quite nerve racking. So we’ve decided on having a few boundaries about what we want to share w-with you for the time being.” He said and she looked to Diana for more explanation on this.

“Mamita, I just need you t-to be a little patient with me now.” Diana said, “Like, over the last few weeks we’ve been trying t-to build up to telling you, but you were a little too…pushy with the topic and it kept making mer nervous and postpone the conversation with you and I guess we just need privacy to settle into this before we are more comfortable being together openly w-with you.”

“So I’m too…nosy?” She asked and Diana frowned, “And if I stop you guys will keep dating?” She added, her lips curled up a bit and Diana sighed.

“Y-yes.” She admitted with a tinge of hesitation and Celeste let out a laugh.

“Okay! I can mind my business!” She said and Diana and Harry chuckled, “As a matter of fact,” she said as she hopped off the stool, “I don’t even care. I don’t at all. I’m just a selfish teenager who worries about her friends and stupid problems.” She said as she backed away from the kitchen. And they laughed and called her back so that they could actually finish up and she leaned on the counter now wearing the biggest smile, “OK, go on.” She insisted.

“Well, I know you don’t care or whatever,” she started with a small smirk and Celeste giggled, “but I just want you t-to be comfortable. I mean, neither of us is super big on PDA, but I mean, we might hold hands sometimes or even kiss quickly or something like that,” Diana blushed, “and like, while you might be happy about this, it can also be a little weird. So if you ever do, just let me know.” She said and Celeste nodded.

“Okay. Thanks.” She said. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Ummm, let’s hear it.” Diana decided.

“When did this start?!” She asked.

“Like when did we start to like each other or when did we first go on a date?” Harry asked.

“Both? I-if that’s allowed.” She added.

“Well, I started liking your mum since you two first came t-to the practice.” He admitted and Celeste’s jaw dropped in shock at this. “Yeah, I know…” Harry chuckled. “I don’t know, I just thought she was so beautiful and sweet and she was just stuck in my head.” He said and then she glanced to Diana awaiting her response.

“Oh, me.” Diana chuckled a bit nervously, “Ummm…w-we ran into each other one night after our classes and that girl from your class was following you?” She said to Harry and he nodded.

“You had a stalker?” Celeste asked and Harry chuckled and turned to her quickly.

“No. She just had a crush on me at the start of the semester and was trying really hard to have more time with me.” He explained. “Either way, you noticed I was looking rather uncomfortable so you approached us-”

“Yeah, I pretended to be his girlfriend that was running late.” Diana said, “And that was the girl that approached us at Cafe Flores, remember?” She asked Celeste and she nodded.

“Oh…”

“Yeah, so that’s when I realized I liked him.” Diana said and Harry’s brows furrowed suddenly.

“That conversation didn’t end well if I recall correctly.” He said with a frown.

“Yeah, it did not.” Diana chuckled, “But I felt so crumby after you said that we should just keep it as professional as possible that it hit me then that I…had a crush on you.” She confessed.

“It can’t be anything else? A better moment where I wasn’t a prick to you?”

“I can’t choose when my feelings happened! That’s when I confirmed that I liked you.” She giggled and he hummed.

“Fine.” He hummed and she smiled and then turned to Celeste.

“And I asked Harry out on a date during the summer but ummm, things were going well with you in therapy and you were saying that you wanted to keep him around as your therapist for as long as possible and well, we can’t do that while he was working with you so we decided not to continue with that -er us then. But that was technically the first date…”

“You were not going to be together because of me?” She asked with a small frown.

“Yeah, but just because ethically it’s frowned upon t-to have what is called a dual relationship with a client and their family or friends. So if someone else in my field were to find out that I was dating a client’s parent I could get my licenses revoked and it would be quite bad for all of us. And well, also you had expressed some hesitation with your mum dating before to me in session, and well, you didn’t react well when you thought we were dating that one time, so I think we both just felt that…not being together was the best thing to do for all of us.” He explained.

“Oh…now I feel bad.” She pouted a bit.

“No mamita, don’t feel bad. It really was our bad. I mean, those kinds of rules are there for a reason. And I think that you’ve even experienced some of that with Harry in terms of wanting him around for more things in your life. Its quite a fine line to walk but everything is working out now and ummm, w-we want to give it a real shot now that we can without risking his entire career.” She said and Celeste smiled a bit.

“Okay, well I am fully on board with this.” She said and Diana chuckled.

“Don’t we know…” she mumbled and Celeste grinned. 

“Well, at the end of the day I just want you to be happy too.” Celeste said to Diana, “And well, I trust Harry and I know he’ll take good care of you and be nice and supportive and all the stuff you’ve told me you wanted if you ever dated anyone so…yeah.” She smiled and Diana smiled and then glanced up to Harry who just pulled her into his side and she relaxed in his hold and hugged him back as he planted a quick kiss on the top of her head.

“So cute.” Celeste hummed and Diana laughed as she felt her face warming as she blushed.

Their dinner went well, Celeste monopolized the conversation and only talked about what she had going on and then what she did with Geri at their sleep over. It was nice though, to be able to look over at him and catch him staring without worrying about Celeste catching them. If she wanted to, she could actually reach for his hand and hold it if she wanted to. She was tempted to, but she didn’t want Celeste to make a huge fuss about it. But then she also wanted to show Celeste that she could be warm and affectionate in a way she had not seen before. And well, she also wanted to show Harry that she was putting in some effort to get over her fears of letting her walls down. 

Well, she had basically let every wall down but there was just a little bit of resistance in her still. That fear that she couldn’t shake completely was constantly swimming around in her head. And then he smiled wide and said something to Celeste, something she didn’t even hear quite honestly, and that annoying little remainder of fear just melted away. And there was no hesitation as she slid her hand across the table and grazed his pinky and he just glanced over and smiled for a second before turning his hand over as he continued chatting with Celeste. Diana felt so relieved when his fingers clasped over hers and then she turned her attention back to the conversation. She could see Celeste smiling wide but she made no commentary and just kept telling her story. After dessert they played a quick round of UNO, which Diana won both rounds much to Celeste and Harry’s annoyance. But soon Celeste was heading up to have a shower and get her things ready for school the next morning. Harry had just gotten Misty into her little travel kennel when Diana came down the stairs with a little pot of concealer for him.

“Here you go. That should fix that.” She said eyeballing the far too orange canceler splotch covering a love bite on his neck.

“Thanks.” He chuckled. “You feeling good?”

“Yeah. So happy.”

“Me too.” He smiled and grabbed her face in his hands and she tiptoed to let their lips meet in a soft kiss. They smiled against each other lips and pecked once more.

“I love you so much, Harry.” She whispered between them and he kissed her again quickly.

“I love you too.” He smiled, “It’s gonna be so good.”

“I know.” She smiled.

---TAG LIST---

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[heartstringsduet]

heartstringduet's fall reads. 🍂

(this list by no means is encompassing all the wonderful fics I read and that deserve everyone's thoughtful comments. I will do more lists soon though. You peeps are so amazing 😭.)

Currently WIPs 💕 i closed my eyes inside of your darkness (and found your glow) by falloutmars S: After losing his mom and moving states, TK finds comfort in a stranger who may need the comfort just as much. A story of loss, love, and learning to live again. I love how careful and tender the different ways of coping with grief are portrayed. Plus, Andrea runs a café, Carlos runs a book club and TK finds his way into being a paramedic.

You Keep Coming Back With A Bird In Your Teeth by vaguenotion S: When a gesture of goodwill is misinterpreted, a patient begins to develop a dangerous attachment to TK. The whole point of the job is to save patients, not to have to be saved FROM them. what can I say but that I chew my arm off each time this is updated. Absolutely love the characterizations, the dialogues and the goddamn tension.

your gentle hands are stained with the blood of anothers by @birdclowns S: Denton Miller was Carlos' first case after being promoted to detective. The serial killer has escaped, throwing Carlos and his loved ones into his game as the next unwilling participants. The stakes are impossibly higher and the rules have changed - it's his husband on the other side of the screen. Such a sucker for a kidnapping story and a cat-and-mouse game and Jasper masterfully strikes a line between scary and intimate i language and plot.

see a friend (see a ghost) by @ambiguouspenny S: TK would always come home to him. It was a dinner table promise wrapped in explicit truth; a vow Carlos would bet his life on. A choice made at the edge of tragedy leaves Carlos living in the aftermath. TK tries to make it right. Weeping, letting the vivid details and the mystery and punchy dialogue keep me up at night.

Where All This Love Comes From by @carlos-in-glasses

S: Six months after Gabriel Reyes’ death, TK grows concerned about Carlos’ drinking and brings him to a meeting at the Y. TK reflects on meeting Carlos after years of addiction and self-destruction, while Carlos has continued to seek closure by uncovering two unknowns: The identity of his father’s killer, and how his father truly felt about Carlos as his son. I recommend anyyything cig writes, because I'm hopelessly devoted to her writing. Anything I read by her is nuanced, poetic, so insightful and heart-wrenching. This only has one chapter but a dialogue that punched me right in the heart.

a long time ago (we used to be friends) by @welcometololaland

S: The exes to lovers, college sweethearts, murder mystery fic where the motto is: be gay, solve crime. I can always count on anything Lola writes to make me laugh and to have me in the throws and woes of my emotions. And this one is one of my favorites of her because I love how she writes them finding their way back into each others life.

Teach You How Forever Feels by @three-drink-amy

S: TK is left with custody of his five-year-old brother, Jonah. With Owen's encouragement, TK moves to Austin for a fresh start, questioning every move he makes as he's thrust into the role of parenthood. But it all leads him to Jonah's new school where he meets Carlos Reyes, the kindergarten teacher. It reads like a warm hug to see TK growing into the role of a parental figure and Carlos be a teacher and read both of them so gone over the other.

Finished Stories 💗 for if i'm going down, i'm taking you with me by @mooshkat and @thebumblecee S: For years now, the rivalry between the Reyes and Strand families has run strong. Since they were young, Carlos and TK have been warned to stay away from the other family and never trust each other, but what happens when a job forces them together? Two contract killers in an enemy-to-lovers scenario? Absolutely loved the journey of this (and the hot smut scenes let's be honest)

The Knave of Hearts . . . brought back the tarts by @liminalmemories21 S: TK exhales and picks up his glass. “The mind boggles. What did Matt want?” “Wanted to ask if I’d heard any rumors about a new art thief nosing around town for targets.” This entire universe of art lover (and former art thief) TK and detective Carlos is so intricate and never forgets to highlight their love even in in well-constructed plot!

to build a home by @freneticfloetry

S: Twenty-five years of chasing hope and happiness and the place where he belongs. Or: Carlos begins, and ends, and begins again, until he gets it right. My heart? Gone. This fic took it and ran with it. Seriously, one of the best character deep-dives I've ever read.

Under A Star Spell by @orchidscript

S: In which Carlos practices folk magic and TK, needing to rekindle something, finds himself on his doorstep. In which two people cross-paths, hope for one thing, and find something else altogether thanks to coffee, vanilla, hyssop, and mint.

The descriptions of Carlos practicing magic is seriously making me weep with jealousy. And the growing love between them in this and the sequel is magic itself.

When I’m Like This by @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut

S: TK Strand hasn’t known Carlos Reyes for very long. He’s slept with him, run out on his attempt at getting to know him better, and been processed by him after an arrest. Despite all of that, TK can’t get over Carlos. When TK gets bad news at an NA meeting, he quickly starts to spiral, and there’s only one person he feels safe enough to run to. The absolute tenderness of this and the rawness of emotions just rubs me open in the best way on each re-read.

Love From the Other Side by @lightningboltreader S: It's Exes to Lovers in One Bed! After two years apart, TK & Carlos find themselves face to face at a three-day training event for Texas first responders. Flirting leads to passion, then misunderstanding and ultimately the heart to heart they've each been craving. The exes in a single bed fic we all need in our life! This has so much tension and made me so emotional at the same time.

Sunshine On My Body, Rainbows Bloomin' In My Skies by @lemonlyman-dotcom S: After Carlos’s bold claim about hiking the Great Wall, TK reveals he’d been an avid hiker before moving to Austin. TK & Carlos go for their first hike together, and maybe learn some new things about each other along the way. Such a beautifully written, funny and heartfelt story that feels like you're overgrown with ivy and the feeeels. A Helping Hand by @rmd-writes

S: When TK’s bathroom sink is flooding and he needs help, pronto, he turns to Grindr to find someone close by. But what happens when the best one night stand of his life walks in the door? Or, the Grindr meet-cute AU

I can always count on Rae to give me grade-a smut with a heap of unbound joy and this is no exception. 29 going 30 by @alrightbuckaroo

S: During a trip to New York City to celebrate TK turning 30, TK and Carlos stumble upon a list of things TK always wanted to do before he turned 30, all of them being references to romantic comedies he loved so much growing up.

Just a biiiig old love letter to both TK and Carlos, to New York and to turning older and making your old wished come true. The night before Halloween by @ladytessa74 S: Carlos and TK have faced many fears in their lives. But has that prepared them for everything? As they get ready to celebrate Halloween with five year old Elijah, monsters lurk in the shadows. The only way to overcome fear is to face it. Tarlos as parents aren't always for me but Tessa has changed my mind! Plus, a little spooky and wonderuflly plotted halloween story never hurt anybody - or would it? come what may, I'll still stay by @strandnreyes

S: Nearly one year into their marriage and TK finds that life looks a little different these days with Carlos working as a detective. He knows change happens, but when the missed dinners start to pile up and the change begins to feel like too much change, TK struggles with how to remind Carlos that life exists beyond his badge.

One of my all time favorites by Jen which is saying a LOT with how many she has blessed us with.

The Firehouse by @paperstorm S: In 2002, TK and Carlos meet in a third grade classroom in Manhattan. 21 years later they meet again, at a nightclub in Austin called The Firehouse. Split between their friendship in childhood and the path that should set them up as enemies, this is such a beautiful story of kinship and eternal love to me. I just adore how Andie writes TK and Carlos - in love in any and all universes.

[jiubilant]

what do you think little aduri’s first impression of avrusa and sinderion was…

"And this," says Sinderion, leaning with a grin across the shoulder-carriage bench, "is Asplenium regelliam."

The toddler on Avrusa's copious lap stares, cross-eyed and scholarly, at the sprig of green tickling her nose. Then she squishes her face with a thoughtful gurgle.

"Yes, indeed," says Sinderion with utmost solemnity, "it's named for the estimable Chivius Regelliam, whose work has proven invaluable to we who crawl through hedgerows in his wake. Very good."

"Don't listen to him, sprout," says Avrusa, raising her eyebrows. "Never crawled through a hedgerow in his life. I did all the field work." She bounces her new charge, winning a giggle, then peers with mock severity into her face. "What's A. regelliam in the vernacular?"

Little Aduri gives her a rapt look. Then she reaches up to pull Avrusa's lip.

"Ouch," says Avrusa, amused. "Nirnroot, that's right—ouch."

The shoulder-carriage jostles through the City of Gems on bright and crowded streets, bobbing around foot-traffic like a boat. It has windows. Avrusa tries not to look at them. Outside, the city brims with light and noise: the rattle of pushcarts, the sizzle of frying scrib, the shouts of the chairmen bearing them from her father's squalid palace to the rooms they've rented over the market-square. Not cheap. Nor is the chairmen's fee—but the child can't walk, Avrusa reasons, and Sinderion will be two hundred and ninety next week.

And her father, she thinks, bitter as wormwood, has willed the sprout some pocket-change.

Sinderion, replacing the nirnroot in his bottomless bag, looks sidelong at her. Then—with that awkward, punctilious insight of his—he takes her hand.

"I'm all right," Avrusa rasps, then clears her throat. "Will be." She shakes her head, struck with amazed grief—how suddenly it comes and goes, like the gusts of ash that had once rolled through Ald'ruhn. "He used to keep such a clean house. More than clean."

Her mentor's hands had been lively, once: scribbling notes, sketching lectures in the air, flicking her fingers when she held a pestle wrong. Now they tremble with the simple strain of squeezing her hand. "Orderly?"

"Yes." She looks with bewilderment at the toddler—her half-sister, for gods' sake, two hundred years younger than herself. "And he—n'chow, Sinderion, he was older than you. I just don't understand—"

The shoulder-carriage bucks. Avrusa finds herself doing several things at once: clutching the toddler to her chest, cursing, kicking out a leg to keep Sinderion's bag from flying into him. It crunches. The ungrateful old twig cries out and swats her knee. "You harridan, my retort!"

"Bother your retort—"

"My flasks!"

"Were you planning to brew elixirs," demands Avrusa, righting herself, "here in the sedan—"

Aduri giggles again. Sinderion's grin reappears, as it always does, like an ancient light sputtering on. "Funny, are we?"

Avrusa sets the squirming toddler on her knee. The sprout is scrawny, she thinks with a frown. She smells sour, milky; she'd screamed and kicked the maid who, an hour or so ago, had shoved her at Avrusa with a desperate smile. Avrusa had understood them both. Part of her, she thinks, had wanted to kick something, too—had wanted it ever since she set out, across countless leagues and second-guesses, to fetch home a child she hadn't known existed—

The toddler puts her hand in her mouth. "Bah."

"That's right," says Sinderion, the old cellar-dweller. "Species Plantarum is our art's most inviolable text."

Their new pupil takes her hand from her mouth, studies it academically, then puts it back. Something in Avrusa's chest moves.

"Excelsior," she says gruffly, and tickles her sister's skinny ribs. "I'll read you some."

Aduri laughs. The sound is bright and sweet as a nirnroot's chime.

[todderwodders]

Hmmm, maybe… Jaheira to Wyll, or vice-versa, post-game? (If they’re both still alive, lol)

I'm writing Letter Fic! Received on the tenth day of the tenth month of the year 1493. Duke Ravengard, I have known men who do not know the meaning of the word courage, though they speak of it often. I know men who speak of the world love, though they speak of it often. I know men who grow into young men. They talk as men, and walk as men, but they do not know the meaning of manhood. They do not know what it is to be a true friend, nor companion, nor lover, and certainly, they do not know what it is to be husband, a bond and duty which encapsulates all of these things. My daughter writes to me of this day, of your engagement to the Bhaalsdaughter. She speaks of your kind words, of your growing hair, of your future bride's changing body in response to a much kinder life than she has ever known before. She speaks of it in less glowing terms, but she has not been in love, and forgets that in her younger days, she too ate and drank as much as she so desired, freed from the burden of strife. I do not know how to say it well, so I do not reference this at all in my response. But to you, I speak frankly. I am grateful for the love you share. I am grateful that it exists and that you have it. it is one of life's greatest pleasures. However, I beseech you now: do not rush your marriage. I was married to my Khalid on a cart. It was sparse and cold and perhaps I was not kitted out to be what many imagine a bride to be, but we did not care. My time together with my husband was so short, even by the standards of shorter lived peoples. When I heard of your marriage, I was happy for you, yes, but I was sad, too. Sad for myself, if this self pitying old woman is allowed a moment of honesty. I reflected on this for many days and nights. I lost some bit of sleep. It is silly, how much I deliberated on these feelings, and how simple the answer I arrived to truly is. I loved my husband, and I wish I had more memories of our marriage. I wish we had not married so quickly. How strange that is to say, when it has been so long, and I had thought I had ruminated all i could on my husband. Life does not take to it's work so easily, so cleanly. Grief is ever lasting. It will follow you forever, and closely, if you let it. The insight of grief is also ever lasting, and in some strange way, I feel so very close to the time that I had with every beloved person I have ever known and lost. So do not rush. Do not weep, for death and loss is also apart of life. It cannot be slain. It can be accepted. Understand, my friend, exactly what you have in your possession, and what you stand to lose, and hold it loosely anyways. There is no dragon to slay in the home in which a marriage resides. One day you will part from one another, be it for another or in the slipping from this mortal coil. This fragility makes things so sweet. Speak plainly, and gently. Make your words known. Understand that she will ask much. and you will ask much, and perhaps neither of you understand each other at all, some days. You make no error by these events - it simply is. Love is not a man being put aside, for he has made some silly mistake. You are no longer in your father's house, nor are you hunting the Coast for beasts and strange, evil men. You are your own man now, Wyll, and you choose the home you build. Make something you are proud of. Hold your beloved's hand gently. Be as your best traits allow, and forgive when you are not always your best. It will happen. Savor the cake, and the cloth, and the fine fruit of your table. Love is strong, and full of trust, and it is about being the bravest companion, the truest friend, the most loyal of men. This I know you will be, and much more. Know that your friend has faith in you. P.S. I expect a wedding invitation post haste.

J

[whinlatter]

Cho Chang for the random character ask: 4, 9, 12, 27, 43

cho! this was actually so fun to think about. cho is an underrated character and a boss bitch and i for one have relished the opportunity to think more deeply about her, so cheers for that anon! (i'm merging the other ask i got about cho with this one for a bumper cho post)

1. Canon I outright reject

i do not tend to outright reject canon because i am a boring yawn canon compliant girlie but i will say i find it weird to think that cho would be randomly checking/carrying her DA coin on the night that harry just happens to arrive back at hogwarts in DH. it’s not even for plot it’s just for the ensemble vibes. pointless cameo sorry! the whole point of failed high school romances is to never resolve them and just memory block them out for all eternity until you bump into them in the veg section at the big supermarket when you go home for christmas and make awkward small talk then see them again at the checkouts and want to die

2. A canon or headcanon hill I will die on

part of the reason cho was so (understandably) distraught after cedric's death was because of a dynamic in their relationship of cho revering/idolising cedric that only deepened after his death as he became somewhat canonised in popular memory. when they got together, cedric was a seventh year and cho was a fifth year. often when you're 15/16 you definitely look at 17-18 year olds like they're the coolest people on the planet and you're lucky to be in their orbit basking in their great worldly wise glory (lol). and while i’m not doing up age-gap-is-problematic-discourse i am saying that if you're in the last year of school and your mate starts going out with someone two years below who is doing their GCSEs or whatever you do a) obviously take the piss out of them but more importantly b) tend to see a pretty big gap in maturity and life experience that often adds a weird power differential in the relationship. that's not to say that cho didn't really miss cedric's company, but also that the grief was made worse by the fact that she likely saw him as a saint-like figure she was in awe of, a view that only received mass endorsement after dumbledore's eulogy of cedric, so she's not even really able to mourn a real person, but just the idea of someone purely heroic and good who she will never be able to replicate again

4. Favorite line

“He asked me out, you know,” she said in a quiet voice. “A couple of weeks ago. Roger. I turned him down, though.”

in this house we stan 👏 petty 👏 queens 👏

or...

“What about your parents?” asked Harry. “Well, they’ve forbidden me to get on the wrong side of Umbridge too,” said Cho, drawing herself up proudly. “But if they think I’m not going to fight You-Know-Who after what happened to Cedric —”

actually huge props for cho for joining a resistance fight club with no parental support for anti-ministry action. because in canon you have the weasleys whose parents are so politically involved, and whose sense of political right and wrong is (bar percy) so instinctual because it's how they were raised, it can be easy to overlook how significant it is when other characters who don't come from that family background/political lineage get involved in risky acts of open rebellion. like yes her defence of marietta is misguided, but cho is a boss bitch who lets her grief be fuel for a good fightback and i for one applaud it

8. Unpopular opinion about them

ok this is going to sound like me doing up pure ginny defender but for all ginny gets slated for having many a jealous moment (including with cho in DH) i do think it is Interesting that people overlook how insanely jealous cho is of hermione lol. i do like that element of cho's character - or rather, think it lets her be well-rounded and interesting, giving an insight into how the trio are perceived by other members of the student body, but also allows cho have this messy petty teenage side to her (people often tend to write her in fic as this very worldly mature grieving widow figure, instead of like, a girl going thru it and wildly acting out emotionally and developing a whole host of insecure abandonment issues that are mostly to do with her grief). but i love how she like sees red and goes full how many girls are you meeting after me!!! alexa play bust your windows!!! i am going to storm out and YOU are going to pay for these coffees!!! so yeah, my unpopular opinion is cho is petty and messy and obviously harry fucks up more but she does kind of act up and you know what, that's fine! she's still worthy of the world! (you know all i do is ride on my let girls giggle and be messy crusade)

9. Scene that first made me love (or hate) the character

i stan the temper tantrum cho has when she loses the quidditch final. go girl have your strop! she’s just like me fr

12. Crack headcanon

cho's gang of girlies wore potter stinks badges in the dormitory after that horrendous date to cheer her up. and she was like yeah you know what! he does!

23. If they were a scented candle, what would they smell like?

ohhh man i am going to have to pass on this because i literally cannot name any smells. she's too prestige and gorgeous to not smell lovely though!

28. How they feel about insert character of your choice from the same fandom

i am kind of obsessed with a cho vs ginny bitter rivalry that doesn't actually have all that much to do with harry lol. cho is two school years older than ginny (given ginny is an end-of-august birthday baby, cho fully could be three years older than her, given hermione is two calendar years older than ginny and is only in the year above). so ginny is a little pipsqueak irrelevance to cho, whereas i expect cho lives in ginny's head rent-free while she's still in the throes of her deep unrequited crush on harry. then ginny goes out with michael, cho's teammate, and is in the DA, so probably is around a lot more, maybe they're semi-friendly, all going fine - until ginny pops up for the quiddich final in ootp and publicly demolishes cho on the quidditch pitch. can you imagine being a (almost or actual) seventeen year old getting the snitch snatched from under your nose by gryffindor's fourteen year old second-rate substitute seeker (especially after a year of playing badly?) i'd be fuming. no wonder cho cries and chucks her broom on the ground. so then ginny chucks michael for being a 'sore loser' (i think this must have also been a bit connected to cho, if all ravenclaw are having a great big public sulk lol), and then michael immediately gets with cho (canon implies that evening lmao). even if ginny didn't care about michael all that much, there is something pretty galling about your ex moving on to your sporting rival an hour after you break up lmao, and something very messy from cho to try and get back at the girl who just beat you by immediately hooking up with her ex lol. you can just imagine michael and cho bitterly slagging off ginny in between snogs at that post-match commiseration party. and then the following year, when ginny beats cho again, in a match cho 100% viewed as a re-match and a chance to finally best the person who humiliated her... i'm just saying, those two hate each other (at least as teenagers) and it doesn't even really involve harry lol. and i for one love it!

43. 3 favorite foods and 3 they despise

i am also bad at questions like these i'm so sorry 🫣 literally have no world/character-building capabilities to imagine people's favourite anythings. i do like the idea of cho being thoroughly unimpressed by the quality of the hogwarts cooking though! do i back a fleet of house elves living out their days in a castle in the scottish highlands to know their way around any kind of asian cuisine? no i do not. cho would have every right to fume

[heyidkyay]

I guess I’ll take this pain, instead of your name |

Epilogue

A/n: The finale. Heyyy, hope you all enjoyed the last update, I’m beyond grateful for all the love it got alongside the rest of this series, it means more than you’d realise. But I just had to indulge myself and write the epilogue too, made sense tbh and I really do love the way it went, there’s lot going on here and I feel like it was necessary to post! It’s just nearing 20k though so hopefully it’s enjoyable, there are a few different cut scenes, where we time jump, and one point where George gives us a little insight to the ongoings in his life, but overall it just shows the years after the end of 28. I loved writing this a whole lot but I am most thankful to @procrastinatinglikeapro for letting me annoy her with the emotions this brought up as well as giving me a place to bounce ideas around, so thank you, you lovely human:) Hopefully I can put you out of your misery now, and that the rest of you enjoy this last part? Thank you sm for reading! X

Summary: In life, things changed. The boys you'd once grown up with were men now, and famous ones at that. The type that toured the world and had millions of adoring fans.

The five of you shared a shit ton of history. But you also shared a lot of mixed emotions for one of them in particular, a certain drummer.

Masterlist

Epilogue -

Dealing with a shit hand in life, had both its downsides as well as its ups. 

With all the crap, the dirt, the anger and the grief, there also came perspective. 

As in, the more you’d been shafted with, the easier it was to deal with the more mundane things life had to throw at you. Like when the washing machine broke mid-cycle and flooded the kitchen floor in early December. Or missing the tube into work and being nearly twenty minutes late for an important client’s meeting. 

Even the times when all of your best mates, who were in a band, get suited and booted for a singular night, and then that said band goes on to win a Brit Award- only, you’ve gone and missed it all because you were stuck somewhere in a line to use the loo.

Yeah.

I swanned back over to our table in the mid-section just after, grateful that I’d had the foresight to check for loo-roll on the bottom of one of my heels as well as grab another champagne flute on my way over. 

Wasn’t one for the stuff, in truth. Literally anything else would’ve been better, but alcohol was alcohol and my anxiety always got the best of me at these kind of events. 

Even though I’d known the boys longer than the band had been formed, I hadn’t actually been to that many. This was my first one in quite a few years.

A small frown had etched itself onto my face by the time I made it over to our little section, the table was now half empty and not one of the boys were in sight- and I even ducked down slightly to see if they were pratting about beneath it too! But no such luck.

“Where’s everybody?” I asked Carly quietly, who’d been grinning like the cat that’d caught the cream before she turned to blink up at me. My forehead furrowed even further as I placed my glass down on the table top and took the seat beside her. “You alright? Is there something on my face or summat? You’re looking at me funny.”

She actually had the fucking nerve to laugh at me then, the cow.

“Oi, tell me!” I urged, swatting at her upper arm lightly after just having dragged my chair in.

“Only you, I swear.” Carly retorted, giggling freely now before she jutted her chin outwards, up towards the main stage. “You missed it, babe! They’re all up there!”

It was my turn to blink then, the alcohol slowing my ability to think functionally, before it finally hit me. My head snapped up towards the front of the room, where, low and behold, stood my four idiots.

Shit, I really needed to slow down.

But that was just a passing thought before I threw myself back up and out of my seat to whoop loudly for them, seemingly having lost all sense of decorum- or whatever it was that these toffpots loved to go on about- my anxiety having been well and truly chucked out the window.

The boys all appeared to glance over at me then, and I heard Carly snort behind an extravagant centrepiece just below me when the four of them laughed. Matty, the honest to God twat who was stood holding the award over by the mic, smirked though too, and it was so shit-eating that I could easily see it from across the floor. Instantly I knew what was coming. 

“Oh and would you look at that, the wonderful Birdie has returned!” Matty shouted out, eyes squinting with the extremity of his grin as he leant in closer over the podium, “Where you been then, B? Missed it, sweetheart! Ross reckoned you popped to the loo’s- pretty snazzy, ain’t they?”

“Felt like a queen!” I quipped right back, apparently unable to bite my tongue. 

The lot of them seemed to appreciate it though, as did some of the room.

“Our poor Georgie was a little lost on the way up, babe! But don’t worry, G, we’re all sorted now.” Matty teased, winking over at the drummer stood to his right. George rolled his eyes, but his mouth was curled to one side in a way that couldn’t be helped. “For everyone who doesn’t know the lovely Birdie! She has been with us sorry lot since the very start.”

“Before it.” Ross cut in from behind him, which sent Matty’s head nodding.

“Yeah! Before it even!” He corrected himself and then pointed the tip of their Brit award towards me, “Don’t think we could’ve made it this far without her, in truth. Probably would’ve had a big massive blow up and never have spoken to each other again, knowing us. But she’s the glue that binds us. Always.”

My heart swelled in my chest so much it almost hurt to breathe, and I couldn’t even bring myself to care for the hundreds of people sat in this room, never mind watching it all unfold on the tele, I’d just never felt so appreciated, especially upon seeing the rest of the boys all nod solemnly in agreement. I wiped haphazardly at my cheeks.

“But, as I was trying to say, long before we were all so rudely interrupted!” Matty went on, earning a round of chuckles throughout the arena. “We are beyond privileged to be here at all, and to have been nominated three times, too. Well, I ‘spose it just shows that we’re doing something right.”

I forced myself to sit back down at that and let the four of them carry on with their thanks. It was so beyond strange to sit through though, I don’t think it had ever really hit me just how much they’d grown and seeing them up there was all the proof I needed.

I thought back to the band practices, to the gigs in shitty dive bars and pubs, to touring and seeing them play for thousands of beaming faces. It reminded me of Carly and Adam’s wedding, and the birth of the band’s first baby. Made me think of Ross’s face when he’d come over to Matty’s after his first proper date, how buzzed he’d been, the look in his eyes. All of it had me wishing for the simpler times strung out by the pool and on the school’s playing fields. 

The years had seemed to pass us by so quickly.

I saw it in the wrinkled smile Hann gave Carly, the greying stands in Matty’s hair, and how G’s knees groaned whenever he sat down- though he’d never willingly admit it.

My family. They’d given me so much, filled many a hole in my war torn heart, but I don’t think they had any actual idea how deeply their presence was felt in me. And so as I stood once more to give another lungful of cheers alongside the rest of the audience, I vowed to make sure that they each knew just how loved they were and how proud they made me.

— 

“Yeah, yup. Of course! No, we do do peonies this time of year. Yes, no need to worry it’ll all be taken care of.” I pressed the phone against my shoulder and ear so that I could grab a nearby pen and paper to write a few details down, then hummed watching on as Delia came out the back of the shop. “Okay, and is that all? No, no, thank you! So it’ll be delivered on the Thursday, is that alright? Yeah. Okay, okay. You’re most welcome! Alright, have a good rest of your day.” Then I finished off the call with a classic British goodbye that always seemed to go on a little too long.

Delia was smiling at me now as she placed a couple of empty pots by the counter, hair plaited down the length of her back and with a pair of reading glasses tangled in its top. “Another order?” 

I hummed again with a happy smile at her ask, finishing off the address I’d just taken. “Yup! Big one too.”

“Oo, how lucky we are.” Delia retorted with a small chuckle and a pleased little smile of her own. It’d been a good week, lots of orders, which was promising after the past month we’d had. She glanced over to the clock on the far wall, then back to me, “You still skiving off early tonight?”

Skiving was hardly the term I’d use, but with a fond roll of my eyes, I nodded at her. “I am. That still okay?” Already knowing it was.

She tutted, waving me off. “You know it is. Just letting you know that he’ll be here any minute now.”

My eyes widened and I was quick to spin around to cast a glance at the time. “Shit.” I murmured to myself, listening to the faint laughter Delia gave as I undid my apron and hurried to tidy up what was left of my last bouquet.

“Leave it, love. I’ll be here another hour or so.”

I frowned, then shook my head, always one to clean up my own messes, but I was interrupted then by the shop door’s jingle. Both Delia and I looked up at the same time to find a familiar figure stepping through its archway, he wore his usual cheeky smile and had eyes that looked more alive than I’d seen in a long while. 

Well, I hadn’t really seen him in a long while, he’d been away on tour with the guys for months now and I’d only gotten small glimpses of him through texts and calls, as well as the odd sporadic visit between us both when we were really feeling the distance.

“George.” I breathed out, recognising the tension I’d been feeling for weeks now finally fall from off my shoulders. I couldn’t bring myself to move though, to race on over and throw myself into him like they did on the tele- mostly because that just wasn’t our style. But I did grin, couldn’t have stopped the beam of it in all honesty, and watched him walk the length of the flower shop only to pause about a foot away with his hands tucked neatly behind his back.

“Heya, Birdie. Fancy seeing you here, ey? And still not ready too. Ain’t already regretting having agreed to let me move in, are you?”

He was teasing. His favourite pastime had always been teasing me. But his words still resonated and as much as I wished to reassure him that that was most definitely not the case, I was still me and if he wanted to be a twat, then I could be an even bigger one. 

“Might be.” I sighed deliberately and slowly moved around behind the counter to hang my apron up on its original hook, before glancing over to where Delia still stood, wearing an amused smirk of her own. Far too used to our antics by now. “Just keep thinking about my lovely little flat being invaded by all your man-ness.”

“My man-ness?” George quizzed, withholding an obvious chuckle whilst he raised a questioning brow over the till at me. 

I hummed, tutting lightly before I glanced back at my boss. “You know what I mean, don’t you, Deils? The boxers and socks thrown about everywhere, wet towels left on the bathroom floor, having to clear up after not just yourself but them as well.”

“Like having a dog.” Delia immediately agreed with a dip of her head, “Eat whatever you feed them and don’t give you a minute alone.”

I snorted whilst George just shook his head at both of us.

“Well, most dogs don’t leave and come back baring gifts.”

“Eh, you’d be surprised.” Delia countered but by then I was already intrigued.

“Gifts, you say?” I questioned him, pressing my hip into the counter to rest my chin against my fist.

“Hm,” George hummed in low confirmation, those eyes of his dancing back and forth between my own, “But you know, could always just head on over to Ross’s, sure he’d be fine with housing me for a couple nights…”

I rolled my eyes at the very thought, “As if! He’s probably glad to see the back of you for a while. I’ve heard stories about tour, G. Remember that.”

It was his turn to snort then. “Most likely. Delia, you wouldn’t happen to have a spare bed going for a poor bloke who’s been fed empty promises and chucked out on his arse, would you?”

Delia sighed and shook her head, although she was still sporting a fond smile. “The pair of you. I swear.” She let go of a soft chuckle before checking my hip and shooing me off, “Get on out of here, would you? Driving me up the wall already.”

“You love us really.” I shot back easily, but was all too happy to oblige, rounding the till to grab my coat and bag before acknowledging that I was now standing a foot away from him once again. It’d been far too long. “Hey.” I said sheepishly.

George rolled his eyes at my awkwardness and made a grab for my hand, pulling me in close and pressing a kiss to my forehead before he slunk his arm around my waist. I let myself fall further into his embrace, taking in his familiar build, the aftershave he adored, the tightness of his hold.

“You ready to go?” He asked me gently and I dipped my head to hide the warmth of my smile, fingers finding a belt loop on his jeans.

“You sure you’re alright with me leaving early?” I said once more to Delia, hating having to leave her in the shop on her own.

“Yes! I’ve only told you about thirty times already, lovely. I’ll be more than fine.” The older woman immediately shot back, palms splayed on the countertop whilst she shook her head at me for umpteenth time today. “I think you forget I’ve been running this shop for well over a decade now, and I’ve been doing alright.”

My cheeks burned a tad at her words, but I just couldn’t seem to help it, once you were one of my people you were in for life. And I took care of the ones I held close. “Sorry, Deils. I know I’m being exhausting, I just-”

“Care.” Both her and George said simultaneously.

And I glared meekly at the pair then huffed, “Well.”

George chuckled beside me, the sound vibrating against the skin of my cheek, and could only seem to pull me impossibly closer, “Too much, sometimes.”

I threw my free hand up in the air with a light laugh, “Right. Sorry I’m overly considerate! But there are worst things you could be, you know. Like rude? Reckon the pair of you would know a thing or two about that.”

“Oh, gerroff it.” Delia laughed delightedly, tutting at me. George seemed content to just continue on grinning. “Go on, get out of here before I chuck you out.”

“You heard the lady, B. Don’t wanna overstay our welcome.” George added as he begun to usher us towards the door, but I saw the sweet smile he flashed the woman before the bell chimed once more. “Lovely seeing you again, Delia.”

“You too, be sure to pop back in before you head off on the road again.”

He laughed but assured her with a promising nod, “Will do.”

—

“That’ll be six fifty, sweetheart.”

I smiled and handed it over, pulling the cocktail I’d ordered across the bar whilst I scoped the place. 

It had been just a typical Tuesday night for me, I’d been in joggers, bra long gone, and curled up in front of the tele, but then George had phoned, spouting this and that about the album, telling me to meet the lot of them at a club down in Canning Town. 

I had no idea whether they’d started, finished, or just scrapped the whole thing, but it’d been doing everyone’s head in for months now, and for G to just call up and send a cab to fetch me out of the blue had me intrigued, so obviously I’d gone.

Only, they had yet to arrive. Fucking London. I swear as much as I loved it most days, you could hardly move an inch without it feeling like the entire city was shifting with you. Our flat was a lot further than the studio, but tonight the roads were crammed pack with traffic that had managed to work its way onto the A12, so I already knew that they’d be a little behind. I was merely thankful I’d had the foresight to skip the cab ride and just jump the tube.

A graze to my left arm then pulled me from my thoughts though and I glanced over to find a fella stood crowding the bar beside me, he was tall, blond, and although he appeared to be waiting on the bartender he was also a little too close for that to be his only intent. But me being me, I simply shuffled over a tad to give him some room and continued to sip at my drink, eyes still trained on the club’s entrance.

“Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to crowd you.” I heard the bloke say from beside me and his hand brushed my elbow as he took a polite step away.

“You’re alright.” I waved off, not really paying him much mind now that the bartender had worked his way back over to take this side’s order.

It was nearing almost eleven now and so I popped my phone out of my purse to see if G had sent me an update. He had, almost ten minutes ago in fact, but apparently I hadn’t heard it over the noise.

G: Stuck in traffic Won’t be long though x

I smiled and shot him a quick text back, saying I’d have a large talisker waiting for him.

It was only when I’d flicked it back off, not bothering with whatever else had popped up, that the guy caught my attention again. He’d already cheersed the bartender for his drink, coloured something ruddy, and then granted me a small smile when our sights crossed.

“I love the watch.” He said to me, dark eyes shooting downward to the antique that adorned my wrist.

Caught mostly by surprise, I found myself looking down at it too. It wasn’t much of a statement piece, dainty if anything and odd in its design due to the age, but it held a lot of sentimental value and was something I rarely ever parted with. Hardly anyone passed comment on it though. 

“Oh, thanks.” I replied, drink already back on the bar before I allowed my thumb to graze across it’s glass face briefly. “It was a gift.”

The man hummed around a swirl of his drink, “Looks rather old, got to be at least sixty now?”

I grinned and my surprise stuck with me, he was almost on the mark there. “Around about, it was given as a present to my grandparents on their wedding day. One of their friends gave them one each.”

That answer warranted a little shock of its own, I supposed. If you knew what to look for you’d see that the watch was a Hans Wilsdorf design from the mid forties and the one my grandad had worn completed a matching set. To say that they’d both been given as a gift, especially way back then, was amazing, but even more so seeing that both my grandparents had been working class.

“Can I?” He questioned and dipped his head down at it, asking for a closer look. 

He appeared to know a little about watches from what I’d grasped, or at least had a fondness for them, and seeing as it wasn’t the strangest thing to ever happen to me in a club, I held out my arm to let him. 

“It’s beautiful, well looked after.” He complimented sincerely with careful eye, “May I?” I frowned at his question, unsure on what he’d meant, but nodded once and was only slightly surprised when he took a gentle hold of my wrist to turn it over and glance at the clasp. “Even the engravings have kept.”

I smiled when he allowed me my hand back, glancing down at the watch again, the dim lights over the bar glinted across the metal. “It’s even got a small inscription on the back too.” I felt inclined to add, the chiseled words having stuck with me ever since I’d first seen them. 

The stranger smiled along with me, as though he understood the emotions my revelation held. “Do they have a story?” He wondered, before adding, “The friend behind the gift.”

It wasn’t a well kept secret, the background of my grandad, the friends he’d kept, the men he’d known. But it wasn’t one I’d heard very much of until the visits I’d taken to my Nana’s long after he had died and I’d left home.

“You could say that.” I chuckled and let my arm relax in my lap once more, “He was a… business man, of sorts. Had known my grandad since they were boys, grew up together.”

“A business man?” The man lifted an elegant brow, mouth following.

“Of sorts.” I reminded with a smirk.

“Oh, like that I see.” He smiled charmingly in retort, “Lots of business men mulling about in the fifties and sixties. Any big names I might know?”

I snorted softly, glad he’d caught on so quickly. “Probably. But I’m no snitch, so you’ll be hearing none.”

He narrowed a pair of dark eyes at me in a manner of teasing at that, and on any other girl they might’ve worked, might’ve even disarmed them. But, I was already happy, happier than I’d ever planned on being actually. “And here I was, thinking we were becoming fast friends.”

With a light laugh, I picked up my drink. “I have enough friends.”

“Oh, that hurts, darling.” The man instantly quipped back, raising a ring clad hand to cover his chest faintly. Yeah, he was definitely playing a game here, but just as I’d been about to affirm the fact that I wasn’t and also had a boyfriend, he spoke up again, “Go on, at least let me know the message engraved on the back.”

I peered over at him for a moment and he only quirked his brow in turn, I put my glass back down on the counter to unhook the first clasp on the watch, not enough for it to slip off (I wasn’t a fucking idiot) but so much so that I could flip the face on its front. And there, in a curved font, was written ‘Family has a way of being found amongst friends’.

“Wow.” The man murmured and I hummed softly in agreement, our heads bowed closely to read the inscription together in the dim lights. “Very wise words.”

I glanced up and smiled at him, ready to reply before a hand snaked its way around my waist. My head shot up at the touch and was greeted with the many faces of the band, but most importantly, George.

“You made it!” I beamed at them all, already shuffling over a bit to make room for the boys. Ross was already leaning against the bar though, ordering in a round, Hann seemed to follow his lead after gifting me an strained smile, which was confusing in itself, until I saw Matty’s shit-eating grin and felt George’s hand grow firmer on my hip.

“We did! Seems like you barely noticed though, love. Havin’ fun tonight, are we?” Matty baited, he was almost singing and his expression was nothing short of gleeful. He reached between me and the bloke I’d been speaking to to grab at my drink. “Cheers, B.” He added, raising the glass to his lips and downing what remained of it.

I rolled my eyes, albeit fondly. “You can buy me another now, Healy.”

Matty hissed theatrically through his teeth as though he was weighing on the thought, “Dunno about that one, sweetheart. Seems as though you’ve got bigger shit to worry about here.”

I pursed my lips in confusion just as the curly haired singer slid from view and then glanced up at George, who stood towering beside me. I poked at his side, “Not gonna even say hello? Been waiting ages for you lot.”

George glanced down at me at that and seemed to take a deep breath before he finally smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to my hair, “Hello, Birdie. Been behaving?”

My forehead pinched at his words, but when I looked up I saw the darkened haze his eyes held and felt my breath hitch. I wasn’t sure if it was down to the lighting in the club or something other, but whatever it was it had my emotions warring.

George turned away before I could mutter a single sound. “Sorry, mate. Don’t think I caught your name.”

It hit me then. 

G was jealous. And oh, how lovely that thought was. 

I was quick to dim the smirk that toyed with my lips upon the realisation and pulled a little bit away from his hold to offer the stranger I’d been sat with a truly apologetic smile, “Oh God, yeah, I didn’t either!”

The man’s stare darted between the pair of us before it landed back on me, he masked his confusion well and said, “Tom.” Then stuck a hand out to properly introduce himself, but before I could even think to take it, George beat me to it. 

I blinked.

“George. Not to be rude though, mate. But she’s already taken, so if you don’t mind?”

Startled by his harsh comment and the jerk of George’s head, I blanched and was hasty to reassure the man sat at the bar, “Don’t mind him.” Then turned to my suddenly temperamental boyfriend, “G, we were just talking about my watch. What’s up with you?”

He raised a single brow in retort but didn’t let up on the continuous stare he had on the stranger. Tom, who looked extremely fucking uncomfortable, merely held up a hand. “Didn’t mean to overstep.” He declared before he set his sights back on me, “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable in any way. But it really was a pleasure meeting you, hope you enjoy the rest of your night.”

I fish-mouthed slightly but nodded, “Yeah, sorry. You too.”

The man granted the pair of us a tiny smile and then let himself get swept up in the club’s crowd. I immediately spun around to face George.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!”

He had the cheek to reel back from my hissed words, acting as though I was the one being outrageous here. “Me? I didn’t do anything!”

“You were so rude!” I countered and felt his hand slip a tad from its place on my hip, “We were just talking!”

“He was chatting you up!” He immediately argued, “Anyone could see that from a mile off!”

“He was interested in my watch! And even if he was trying to chat me up, don’t you trust me enough to know when to draw the line?” I sniped back, all the earlier amusement I’d felt drained from my body. 

The skin between his brows pinched as he blinked and the palm placed on the small of my back splayed a little further, his voice softened, “Of course I fucking do, Birdie. Doesn’t mean I like watching people like him fawn all over you.”

“G,” I sighed, “We really were just talking.”

He dragged a roughened hand across his face before it dropped completely to his side and saw the imploring look he then wore, “Do you know how it felt, to walk in and spot you and him knocking heads, so lost in the moment that you didn’t even hear me call out your name?”

No, I didn’t.

Slowly I raised both my arms up to tug on the lapels of the blazer he’d thrown on, glancing up at him with a sincere smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise. I can see what it might’ve looked like from an outside perspective. But I’d never do that to you, George.”

The tension in his shoulders seemed to loosen at my words, they were no longer hunched up by the lobes of his ears and instead settled where they were supposed to be. 

“I know.” He whispered quietly, but even over all the club’s noise I heard him. The hand on my back pushed against me to bring me closer to his chest and I went, smiling at the gentle touch of the fingers that grasped my chin. “I know.” 

I appreciated the reassurance. 

“And I wasn’t lost in the moment with him, just so you know. More in the story behind the watch.” I added, releasing the hold on his jacket so that my hand could wrap around his wrist, feeling the beat of his pulse there. A familiar rhythm. 

George glanced down at the watch Nana had gifted me all those years ago and then towards the matching face sat on his own arm. A pair reunited.

He knew. He knew the stories, all the tales. He knew the love and the loss. He knew how much I missed her. How much I longed to see her one more time. And in return, I knew he felt very much the same. Nana had taken George in as one of her own before any of us had even realised, called him up more than me some weeks, and in the lead up to her death she’d wanted to see him, to gift him her husband’s watch. He’d sobbed when she’d died and had given quite the speech at her funeral. I knew he understood.

“I love you.” I told him simply, kissing the thumb that had come to rest on my bottom lip, his eyes trained on mine.

“And I love you. I’m sorry for being a dick.” He comforted me. I hummed with a foolishly fond smile. 

“Good, then you can bully Matty into getting me that drink.” And with that said, I let him go, watching as he rolled his eyes at the order before wandering a few feet away to where Matty was sprawling himself across the bar to get a better look at the champagne bottles they had to offer. I guess we were celebrating then. 

Too lost in watching George corral his best mate from off the counter, I jumped a tad when Ross sidled up beside me, a fruity cocktail in hand.

“What is it with you and handsome strangers then?” He asked me casually and I snorted out an unexpected laugh.

“Dunno really. Why, you jealous?”

Ross wiggled his brows at me, “Wouldn’t that put a spin on the evening.”

The two of us shared a conspiratorial grin and he finally told me why the hell I’d been dragged out of my flat tonight.

—

“Vegas, ba-by!”

“Whoo!”

“VEGAS! VEGAS! VEGAS!”

“Alright, you lot.” George laughed from the backseat of the limousine Matty had rented out for the night- a bit over the top in my opinion, but when in Las Vegas, right? “Calm it down, will you? Only just got here.”

“Oh piss off, George!”

“Should I take my top off?”

“Yeah, fuck off, grandad!”

“I feel like I should take my top off.”

“Shit, is that Elvis?”

“I’m gonna take my top off!”

“Oi!” George’s arms wrapped around my middle and pulled me back down from the sunroof before I could, and I landed in his lap with an oof sound. “None of that, please.”

Hann snorted in the lounger across from us, a bottle of Smirnoff clutched in his right hand as he poured another shot, but was caught off guard by the shirt that came sailing at his face. It was then that Matty’s head popped back into view. 

“No worries, B. Ross took his top off in your stead.”

George snorted, Hann sighed, and I jumped back up to join in on the fun. 

“G, hold this, would you?” I said, top already balled up in my hand and cleavage to the wind whilst I grinned widely at all the lights that Sin City had to offer me.

…

We all ended up on the strip soon enough, limo long gone and the five of us marvelling at all it had to offer. We only had a night to pack full to the brim with stupid choices and a shit ton of money, because tomorrow we were set to head back on the road, headed off to a festival not too far for the band’s next show.

“Where to first then?” Hann asked everyone. 

“Caesars Palace!” The boys all chorused, but me, I had my mind set on other things. “Magic Mike.”

Matty looked over at me for a short moment whilst the rest of the guys simply raised their brows. “Yeah, alright then.” He agreed all too easily enough and that was it. “Magic Mike here we come!” Matty declared loudly before setting off, “Ross, mate, don’t get hard and embarrass us, alright?”

Ross’s bewildered squark was lost in the crowd of people we got swept up in as well as our obnoxious laughter.

…

It seemed that Magic Mike had been an experience and a half, and not just for me either. Matty left the show with a Cheshire sized grin, both Hann and G looked pink in the cheeks, and Ross… Ross was flushed and sporting glassy eyes. I’d been pretty chuffed with their reactions all in all, especially when one of the dancers had tried to drag George of all people up onto the stage. He’d refused adamantly, mind, probably too fearful of the fan’s reactions, but the woman beside us- well into her sixties and sporting a cane- had been all too happy to offer herself up instead. 

We’d wandered off to the casinos after that, but instead of heading straight towards the first table we saw or scoping out the machines, we all seemingly decided on shoving as much alcohol as we could possibly procure down our throats. To say that the aim of the night wasn’t getting sloshed beyond repair would be an utter lie. But this was Vegas and I would not stand to have it any other way.

Saying that though, with all the alcohol a lot of the night seemed to blur, sort of merge into one, the strip lights started to look like rainbows, the cars that passed appeared more Pac-Man like than anything else, and bad ideas seemed like the smartest thing we could do. 

Which is how George and I managed to evade the rest of the band in one of the local bars and escape to where we were currently stood, outside of a tiny chapel a street away from an In-and-Out. Classy. But I’d take it.

“You sure about this?”

“Are you? It was your idea!”

“With you? Always.”

We both seemed to giggle at that.

“I could really go for a burger, you know.”

“B, aren’t you like a plant person?”

I snorted. “Vegetarian, you mean?”

“Hm, same thing, in’t it? Don’t think birds actually eat burgers though.”

Birds. “Well for one, I’m not an actual bird. And b, have you ever seen a seagull?”

“Shit, yeah. You’re right.” A thoughtful pause. “Think I want a burger too.”

“Alright, after this then?”

“Yeah, alright.” He grabbed my hand a little tighter at that and I looked over to find him grinning like a loon. “After this.”

…

I startled awake to loud incessant knocking and immediately groaned into my pillow at the pitiful pounding it kickstarted in my head. I’d never felt so worn and sluggish, and a hellish fury rose within me at the startle, but seeing as the knock-ee couldn’t see through walls, I supposed they still had no idea that they were currently the cause of World War III.

Somewhere to the right of me, George seemed to wake also, grunting at the onslaught of noise and huffing loudly, “Fuck off!”

I winced at the jarring sound of his voice, and it appeared he did too, but was grateful when the banging finally stopped. Only it wasn’t for long because as soon as it did, it started up again and was joined by Matty’s head-splittings shouts.

“Open! This! Fucking! Door!”

He was relentless and somewhere, in the very depths of my mind, I found it odd how he wasn’t in his or someone else’s hotel room nursing a violent hangover of his own.

“Now! Open this door right fucking now!”

It stopped again for a moment, catching me enough by surprise that I dug myself out from under a plethora of sheets. Then let my eyes slip close again in annoyance when a second voice sounded alongside Matty’s own.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to either calm down or leave.” Came the muffled order, “We’ve had multiple complaints in the last five minutes alone.”

“Calm down? Calm down! Mate, I don’t think you have any right to ask that of me right now! I’m freaking the fuck out here. I’m beyond fucking pissed! YOU HEAR ME?” He seemed to shout louder then, obviously aiming that last bit at us. George huffed beside me but thankfully made to move. “FUCKING FUMING! I MEAN, WHAT KIND OF PEOPLE- FRIENDS, EVEN! DO THAT TO A-”

The tyrant roaring cut off then and I peered across the room to watch as George ripped the hotel door open and tugged Matty into the suite by his elbow, all whilst wearing nothing but a thin sheet. 

“Will you shut up, you mouthy twat?” He muttered, levelling Matty with a glare nothing short of hellish, though was only met with a childish scowl in turn, before he looked back at the bellhop, a well groomed man with sleek black hair and a thin lipped smile. I groaned internally. “Look sorry, mate. He’s had a rough night, we’ll make sure to keep the noise down from now on.”

“Rough night?” Matty snarled with an undisguised snort- whatever had him this riled up was sure to have been big. But George gave him another look of disdain, apparently not all that pleased to have been so rudely awoken and forced to deal with his bullshit, and he relented to a scowl. I kept myself hidden beneath the covers.

“It won’t happen again.” George quietly assured the hotel worker and sighed heavily once the man had given him a curt nod and the door had shut. “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” He immediately asked, rounding on the curly haired idiot now stood in our room, before taking a deep breath and stalking his way back across the floor, dragging the sheet with him. I attempted to sit up.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you! I can’t fuckin’ believe you two!”

With a frown that was more of a pained grimace, I grabbed a random shirt from off the floor beside the bed and tugged it on- it was George’s, but thankfully it’d been the one he’d chucked off before we’d headed out last night.

Thinking back to last night though, I rubbed at my bleary eyes and tried to recollect the events that had happened after the fishbowls we’d devoured at a themed bar I could not for the life of me remember the name of. But they just wouldn’t come.

“What’s wrong, Matty?” I questioned, my voice all gravelly, and I faintly recalled then having screamed quite a bit- in all sorts of situations. My cheeks flushed at the vague memories that swam towards the forefront of my mind.

“What do you mean, what’s wrong? B, how fucking could you!” Matty quipped straight back, looking just as grim as I felt, his hair in disarray, still in last nights clothes, and stinking up a storm.

“Matt. I need you to slow down, my head’s fucked enough as it is and you’re not helping.” I told him, scrunching my face up as a sudden wave of nausea rocked through me. 

“Exactly.” George grunted out and I looked over to see him forcing up a pair of boxers, beyond the point of caring if he had an audience or not.

Matty glared between the pair of us, but then George sighed and sat himself back down on the bed, and Matty’s narrowed eyes seemed to soften. “You honestly have no clue what I’m on about, do you?”

I rubbed at my temples, “No idea.”

“Hm.” George muttered in a huffed agreement and swiped a hand across his face before he stilled in his entirety.

“What?” I said, confused by the way he’d gone so stock-still, “If you’re gonna chuck up there’s a bin right there.” I added just in case, gesturing halfheartedly over towards the cluttered desk not too far from the bed.

George didn’t seem to hear me though, instead just turned very carefully and very slowly in his seat to look over at me.

“What?” I asked him again, this time a little more frenzied, throwing my hands down onto the duvet that covered my lower half in a huff. My patience had already been worn thin, and he really wasn’t making things much better. 

George’s gaze seemed to follow my hands though, before his head instantly snapped back up in Matty’s direction like a rubber band that’d been cut. 

“Oh shit.”

Matty rolled his eyes. “Yeah, oh shit.”

“What? What’s goin- Oh, shit.”

My eyes caught on the glinting stone stationed on my left hand and my breath caught, all thoughts fleeing as my lungs refused to function any further than that. Oh shit indeed. 

“I- What does that even mean?” My gaze darted from Matty’s bewildered face to George’s shellshocked expression and then to the man’s matching hand. “Christ. What did we do?”

I was really freaking the fuck out now and wondered briefly if this was all just an alcohol induced dream, if I’d had one too many shots, or stumbled too hard and ended up face first in a fountain.

But then the door to our hotel room shot open and in swanned Ross looking like Camilla on Coronation day, as well as Adam who was scrolling frantically through his phone. 

Ross seemed to have hardly been affected by any of last night’s antics, still looking as lovely as ever, and was unwelcomely singing a familiar Billy Idol tune as the two of them wandered in further. “Hey little sister, what have you done? Hey little sister, who's the only one?”

I chucked the nearest thing I had to me at his giant head, which ended up being a small red box, but he merely caught it in midair and grinned. “It's a nice day to start again. It's a nice day for a-” He carried on with his wind-up, peering down at the box passingly before his eyebrows shot up to a scary degree. He whistled lowly, cutting himself completely off, then let his wide eyes glance over to George and I. “White wedding.”

Those last two words had the entire room falling silent. The hotel even, hell, maybe the entire fucking planet! I could barely hear anything above the beating of my own heart that had started banging like a metal drum in my ears.

Belatedly, I forced myself to try and gauge George’s reaction to this whole thing but my boyfriend- oh God, my fiancé now? Husband?!- appeared to already be staring right back at me. His expression gave nothing away except for the apparent shock swimming in his eyes. I wondered if I mirrored it exactly.

Matty, who’d been silent ever since the revelation had hit the two of us, now seemed to jump start and cautiously he made his way over to my side of the bed, precariously taking perch in front of me before he then took my hand- the one without the life-altering reminder, thankfully. Small mercies. 

“B? You okay?”

My mouth was dropped open in utter shock but slowly I turned my head to stare up at my best friend, the boy who’d been with me through everything. Everything but this it seemed. 

“Hey, love. You’re alright. Just a big shock to the system, yeah? You’re alright.”

His quiet reassurances didn’t do much, but they helped ebb the fizzing thoughts my mind didn’t have the capability to process a bit. I forced myself to inhale, to take a breath, but it must’ve seemed rather abrupt to Matty who hastily drew himself closer to place a hand on the back of my neck.

“Just breathe. I’ve got you. Breathe. You’re alright.”

I started nodding, I think. Attempted to absorb the information whilst I breathed in and out, breathing like Matty told me to. Another set of hands found me soon enough. Mindlessly I acknowledged the dip in the bed beside me, as well as the careful fingers that threaded themselves through my hair, and then the loving thumb which trailed sweetly down the length of my forearm.

“You feeling any better?” Someone asked a little while later, and I nodded slowly, forcing my head back up and my eyes open once I no longer felt like the room was caving in on me. 

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, love. Nothing to be sorry for.” The voice assured me, it was George, I realised.

“Feel like a twat. For reacting like that I mean. I didn’t, I mean, it’s not like I wouldn’t want to-” I could barely bring myself to say it, but George seemed to understand me nevertheless. 

We’d spoken about it before, of course. But not since we’d gotten back together and only ever when we’d been kids, way back before the band had taken off, before life had chewed us up and spat us back out. 

I’d never been gone on the idea, marriage was a big deal, scary in a sense. Seeing what it had done to my parents, to my mum after losing my dad, I never wanted to end up like that. Too terrified to be alone and too desperate to fill that void with anything and anyone. My skin itched even now at the very thought.

But I was also old enough to realise that whether George and I were… married or not, I’d still be just as destroyed if I lost him.

George had vaguely agreed with me back then, though I do remember one night, at Nana’s the summer after our first visit there, where he’d said something different. We’d been curled up on the guest bed, wine drunk and happy, he’d held me close, half naked with our arms and legs entangled, he’d whispered and I’d barely even heard him, slipping tiredly into sleep. But he’d said it and I’d remembered, even after all these years.

“If I ever did get married, it’d have to be to you. I mean, you’re an anomaly, Birdie. You’d make sure it worked out, that everything would be okay. Reckon then, it’d all be fine.”

I recalled myself smiling sleepily at his words but unable to truly believe them.

George loved me and I loved him. And that was all that mattered, right?

Nothing could change that. It hadn’t then, and it wouldn’t now. I knew that.

“Wait, how did you lot even find out?” I forced myself to ask the rest of the room, chest still aching from the panic I’d put my body through, thoughts starting to numb the headache of my hangover. I glanced between the rest of the boys, but my sights settled on Matty seeing as though he’d been the first one to barge in. “Well?” I prompted. 

Matty scratched at the back of his head and I watched his mouth quirk up into something that resembled a smile, only it was anxious and strained. Didn’t reach his cheeks, let alone his eyes.

“Twitter.” Hann answered for the three of them, already handing his phone over. 

George wrapped an arm around my hips and shuffled closer to view the screen, whilst I had the pleasure of scrolling aimlessly through a feed of fan reactions and news outlets. The panic that was still there came back in full force but I wouldn’t let it overwhelm me like I had before, instead opting to swallow it all down and continue on.

“How did they even find out?” George questioned with a strange pitch to his voice upon seeing multiple pictures of the two of us loving it up outside the chapel we’d obviously chosen, as well as us eating by a window at a nearby In-and-Out Burger it seemed. Fucking hell, was all I could think.

Ross tossed the box I’d thrown at him earlier towards George and we both glanced down at it. It hadn’t just been an ordinary box and I could see that now, what with the sleek embossed logo for a Las Vegas jewellers sat proudly on the top.

“Couple of people saw you inside the shop, called the paps. Things started to add up when they caught sight of you at that chapel, I ‘spose.” The bearded giant told us and I felt the lump in my throat start to grow. 

I’d been pictured with the band and George before, on tour mostly, but sometimes at events and such, but rarely ever papped in public. Not like this at least.

I let my head drop onto George’s shoulder and wielded my eyes tightly shut, I wanted to scream or cry, but I didn’t know whether it was in joy or utter fear.

Then I felt a soft pair of lips come to rest against my head and I moved slightly to wrap my arms around George’s middle, wincing when I realised I hadn’t even asked him how he was feeling.

“How are you taking all this? I didn’t even ask, I’m sorry.” I murmured into the curve of his arm, but he only seemed to press his face deeper into my hair.

“Look, we’d best give you some space, yeah?” I heard Adam start to say, voice echoing in the quiet room. “Let you get some clothes on and sort your heads out.”

“Yeah.” Matty breathed out in agreement and the bed shifted as he removed his weight from it, his hand squeezing my shoulder just the once.

“Maybe text us when you feel like talking, we can grab some food and bring it back up.” Ross suggested and I felt George nod above me, and together we sat there listening to footsteps pad their way out of the room. Leaving us alone again. 

—

So after that whole scandal, England’s very own Ross and Rachel eventually had to make their way back home. And yes, Ross and Rachel because let’s be honest here, if George and I were anyone amongst the Friends cast then we’d of course be those two. And I don’t know, Matty could probably play at being a good Phoebe, then Ross and Hann would end up as Joey and Chandler- work it out between yourselves on who’s who there. And I suppose that would leave the lovely Carly as our very own Monica. Only, this is all happening before season four, of course, and Carly is already back home waiting for her husband to touchdown. 

So maybe not. I don’t know! My mind was still in a right state after everything that had gone down in Vegas, and I’d hardly been able to process most of it due to tour and the festival, and the onslaught of fans and paps, as well as people back home. Denise had not been happy to find out the way she had, let’s just make that one thing known. 

And then there’d been George’s parents. 

Sighing quietly, I placed a hand over George’s own to still the nervous tapping that seemed constant nowadays and watched as he stilled for a moment, turning in his airplane seat to glance over at me. 

I allowed my body to mimic his movements, only pulling my leg up to press against the arm of the chair and resting my head to the side. I smiled softly at him, more than a little glad that we’d made the decision to take separate flights from the rest of the boys in attempt to throw off the media. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, letting him take my hand in his and not saying a word when he toyed with the silver band that had yet to leave my ring finger.

George shrugged a shoulder, gaze caught on the pretty stone. “I haven’t a clue what I’ll say, is all.”

I licked my lip in thought, still watching him closely. The plane back home probably wasn’t the best place to talk about this, but we’d hardly had a minute alone since Vegas, what with the tour and the guys and everybody else. And besides, if there were any privileges to take full use of when dating a musician you’d drunkenly married then it would most definitely be First Class seats. Everyone else around us was either dead to the world or wearing headphones. We were safe enough here.

“Did you answer yet? Or, are even you going to?”

He drew in a large enough breath before he answered me, but that seemed to be answer enough.

“I haven’t yet and I don’t know. I- They’ve called quite a bit, but mum left a voicemail the day after and later on dad sent a text.” He revealed and I tried to reign back my surprise, though it made sense now to how little he’d wanted his phone near him the past few days, even when he’d been casting it longing glances from across the length of the tour bus.

I swallowed. “Have you listened to it?”

He dipped his head in a nod but didn’t meet my eye, attention still so focused on the hand he held.

“Right… and have you read your dad’s message?” Another nod. This was so hard, I’d honest to God been dreading their reactions so I had no idea just how George was taking it all. I desperately wanted to just tug him in and never let him go again, hope that if he stayed wrapped up in a hug that the world would just leave him be. “Did,” I took a small breath to gather myself, “Did they react like you expected?” Badly, it could only mean badly.

I heard him let out a small and tired chuckle, “Mum did. Dad…”

Okay, so there was hope. There was still hope.

“I listened to the voicemail first, it was,” George inhaled sharply and I took note of the deep furrow between his brows, the way his touch softened on my hand, circling the ring. “It was a lot. I expected it though. The shame she felt I brought, getting married like that, looking the way we did, drunk and stupid. Her words, not mine. Said she wouldn’t be surprised if I was high out of my mind too, or if it was all just fake in an attempt to spurn her some more and get attention.”

Talk about being full of yourself. But I kept that thought to myself, I was angry yes, fuming even, but it was George’s call on how we handled this, because we would, together.

He sighed again, but finally looked back up at me. “She said a lot of other shit I can’t be arsed to think about anymore. But just know that I know that none of it’s true. Hurtful, yeah. Of course. But true?” He shook his head, “Nah.” He exhaled, “And I know we haven’t really,”

“Spoken about it?” I finished for him and he smiled, this tiny but fond thing that sent my heart stuttering.

“Yeah. But no matter what happens, this,” He tugged my palm up to his chest and held it between his hand and his heart, “This is the greatest thing I’ll ever accomplish.”

My eyes instantly prickled at that, just as my breath was knocked from deep within me. I had to fight to swallow and felt my hand clutch the cloth of his shirt.

“Me too.”

George grinned, a complete 180 to the tender smile he’d been wearing, but still so gut-wrenching. Only, in the very best way.

“Good.” He whispered to me, tens of thousands of feet up in the air, and lifted our joined hands to press a kiss to my skin. “Good.”

“So this is it? It’s sticking?” I asked him, hope already so high that I was sure it would shatter if he wasn’t there already holding his arms out towards me. 

He chuckled at my words and leant in close, fingers toying with my ring. “It’s sticking.”

My breath hitched and I found that I was grinning too, almost madly. Eyes trained on his whiskey brown, the very same I’d been staring into for well over a decade now. And still, they mesmerised me like no other.

“Good.” I whispered and finally closed the gap between us.

—

Life after getting hitched was, almost boring in a way? Things continued on as they always did, G in the studio and me at the flower shop. Our friends had gotten over the fact that we’d eloped on a whim- namely Matty, although he was still a little bitchy about it at times. And Denise had thrown us the loveliest party when we’d gotten back to the UK (not that anything could’ve stopped her, not even an apocalypse it would seem). 

The party had been a small affair with just the people we held nearest and dearest, and although it’d been to celebrate the two of us and our commitment to one another, it had also been a great excuse to see everyone we hadn’t seen in ages again, even if we did end up apologising to them every five minutes. George’s dad even ventured down to join in on the festivities, which was the biggest but best surprise yet. The two of them were now working hard on rekindling their relationship with the absence of his mother.

It was just the media that had yet to die down in truth, so we were forced to get used to seeing our ugly mugs plastered everywhere, online and on magazine shelves. Fans of the band were a little intrigued by the idea of George having someone permanent too, even if I had already been around for ages. But Matty had mentioned to me previously when I’d brought it up one evening, that only the older lot really knew of me, from gigs and old photos, hardly anyone knew that G and I had been together since we were kids, let alone having been in a relationship for a little over two years now. It was strange but I left it be.

It was summer again, finally, and everyone was currently taking up residence in Hann’s back garden. See, Carly had wanted to throw a bit of a get-together, have a barbecue now that the sun was back out and everyone was in London again, or at the very least England (cough, cough, Matty).

Hann had been unable to say no, typical for the two of them, and had started sending out invites via text as soon as. 

I was surprised I’d actually made it, in all honesty. Not that I’d had other plans or simply didn’t want to be there- there was no place on Earth I’d rather be than with this useless lot- but all week I’d been feeling like shit. But I’d been a bit under the weather for a short while now, on and off really, though I’d yet to go and see anyone about it. Ever since the crash and all that crap a couple years back, I’d really struggled with hospitals and doctors, hated the thought of them, even phoning up for G had me feeling queasy. 

This morning I’d felt beyond nauseous and more than a little crap when I’d woken up, but George had made breakfast after having popped out to the shops and had come back with a bouquet, as well as a hello from Delia, which had put me in much better spirits. So I’d gotten ready and forced myself into the car and had been quite thankful for doing so up until now.

We were all gathered out in the garden, the sun was shining bright, the grill was alight, drinks were being passed round, and me, I was absolutely fucking miserable. I was far too hot, even in my pretty sundress, feeling flustered beyond belief at the onslaught of emotions that kept on hitting me, and then to top it all off my stomach had been acting up since I’d sat down and caught a whiff of the onions on the grill.

I pressed a palm to the base of my neck as I struggled to keep my cool, breathing steadily whilst hardly paying attention to the chatter of the girls sat around me. It was the usual group of us, some of which I hadn’t seen for a good couple months, but I could not bring my body to simply just focus or stop irritating me in its entirety.

It was just as Matty swanned over, an arm flung round Waughy’s waist as the two of them talked, that I couldn’t stay sat there anymore. I was quick to flash the pair of them a welcoming grin but excused myself to make my way back inside.

“You okay?”

I glanced up at the voice, beyond grateful to have escaped the sun, and caught sight of Carly messing with some extra picky bits on the counter, salad and whatnot.

I forced another smile and nodded, “Yeah, just wanted to nip to the loo.”

Carly copied the sentiment, though gifted me a bottle of water that she had on hand before I could dash off, “Take that, you’re looking a little flushed, babe. Might help with the heat.”

My smile was more genuine this time around as I took her up on the offer, enjoying the crisp chill that lined the outside of the bottle. “Thanks. And yeah, reckon I’ll just sit in the shade for a bit.”

Carly went to say something else then but was thankfully pulled away by the toddler that came shuffling through the backdoor. I took the opportunity to hurry out of the kitchen and towards the downstairs bathroom, sliding in and shutting the door with a sigh.

I went straight on over to the sink and turned on the water just to wet my hands before taking up perch on the closed toilet lid, listening to the water trickle and flow, hoping it would calm me slightly. Then I took the chance to down half the bottle Carly had gifted me, a bit grim sure, but with the loo being my only escape I hardly had a choice here. The water was practically heaven sent and allowed me a second to take relief in the coolness the room had to offer, its chilly tiles and blinded window kept any and all sunbeams at bay.

But now that I had managed to evade the heat, I realised I’d been left with a rather prominent headache I hadn’t noticed earlier in my agitation. Knowing Hann though, he was always well prepared and probably kept a couple paracetamol in the bathroom cabinet.

I grinned when I got up and pulled open a door to find that I’d been right. I went to grab at the packet only to pause when I caught sight of something else sat on the shelf below it.

A box of pregnancy tests.

No, I thought. It wouldn’t make any sense. But it really seemed to hit me in that moment that maybe, just maybe everything I’d been feeling as of late could boil down to one single thing.

“No.” I repeated, this time out loud and accompanied by a disbelieving laugh. But still I found my hand reaching towards them.

I only reckoned that they were in there in the first place because Adam and Carly had given away the fact that they had wanted to start trying again a couple months prior. Around Easter time I think it had been.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts, but they all seemed drawn to this singular idea, and although I already knew that it was stupid, almost incredibly so, to even think that I could be, well… I still allowed myself to grab at them and it was almost on autopilot that I pulled out a stick and shakily made my way back to the toilet.

I made quick work of it, all that water I’d been drinking seemed to help, and found myself leaning over the sink waiting for a stick to determine what I already knew would be false. It had to be. There was no other way.

But then. I guess there was.

My eyes widened and I reckoned I forgot how to breath let alone how to think when I caught sight of the exact opposite of what I’d been expecting. 

Oh and wasn’t that the worst word to use right then. Expecting.

A jolted knock at the door knocked me right back into reality and my wide eyes flew over towards it. I didn’t answer though, I didn’t have in me, but then the knock came again, followed by a, “B, you in there?”

Fuck, Matty. Of course it’d be Matty!

“Yeah?” I called back, voice as shaky as my legs seemed to be.

“You alright? Only, you looked a bit peaky out there, then Carls mentioned it too. Figured I’d come check.”

With trembling hands I pushed myself off of the sink and across the tiled bathroom floor, steeling myself before fiddling with the lock. “Fuck.” I muttered, shaking so severely now that I was surprised I was still standing.

“B?” Matty asked again, but I somehow managed to open the door a crack to find him stood on the other side, a pair of dark sunnies tucked into his effortless curls and his usual grin in place, although looking a tad bit wobbly. “You alright in there?”

I swallowed and before I could think better of it I said, “Get Ross.”

Matty’s expression crinkled in confusion and to be fair to him, it was a strange ask, I must’ve looked a right state, but I wasn’t asking for him or for George, I was asking after Ross.

“What? B, just let me in, will you. What’s goin’ on?”

I shook my head and held tightly onto the doorframe as though it was the only thing keeping me upright, it likely was. “I need Ross.”

The quizzical frown Matty wore only deepened but he backed up a bit, “Come on, stop being a prat. You’re acting weird, freaking me out a bit, in truth.” He chuckled faintly, obviously still conflicted, “Just let me in and we can talk, yeah?”

“Just fuck off, Matty! Call Ross, now.” I all but ordered and the surprise that fluttered through his features would’ve been surprising but I was too far gone to be paying attention to all of his many emotions when I could barely hold onto my own. “Please.”

His resolve seemed to crack at that and he looked at me for a long second before nodding swiftly, “Yeah, alright. Yeah, I’ll go get him.”

I swallowed down the choking sensation I suddenly felt crawling up my throat and nodded in reply, shutting the door before he even had the chance to run off.

“Fuck.” I hissed through my teeth, pressing my face against the bathroom door in an odd attempt to keep myself from sobbing outright.

Had I been too harsh? Matty had only wanted to help. I understood that. I did. But it was Matty, and as much as I fucking loved the daft idiot, this was not a scenario he was built for. Not at all. If I’d’ve let him in and he’d seen that test sat on the sink he’d have freaked out even worse than me. The whole house, no, the entire street would’ve known something was amiss the second he started having a mental breakdown. It was better this way.

And besides, I felt like I really needed my big brother for this one. This was real life shit, and as much as Ross and I bickered and fought, we had a relationship like no other. He was someone I’d always looked up to, someone who knew how to talk me down, to keep me grounded and centred. He had all the answers, and when he didn’t then he knew exactly what to say to sound as though he did. He’d know what to do, he’d sort it all out.

I jumped at the knock that came in that next moment, feeling the vibration buzz through my skull and only accentuating the headache I’d given myself, but still I moved towards the lock once more and was beyond grateful to just see Ross stood there, hunched a little to peek in through the gap at me with a smile.

“You called, your highness?” He remarked playfully and before I could even get the door open any further, the tears started flowing helplessly and I had to watch the way Ross entire expression went from playful to utter horror in a split second. “B, what happened?” He immediately asked, crowding against the door to shuffle in and I allowed him, watching him lock the door once more before I fell into his arms completely. 

“Shit. You’re alright, love. It’s okay.” He reassured me softly before carefully wrapping his arms around me, sheltering me from the rest of the world.

The two of us stayed like that for a while, I wasn’t sure how long in truth, enough to let the dull rock he’d started up calm me whilst listening to the faint murmuring of his voice. It was familiar and so very needed right then that I clung on tighter to the back of his shirt as I tried to muddle through my messy mind.

We pulled away soon after, though he still kept me at arms length whilst guiding us both over to the side of the small bath. Ross took a seat on its edge and I followed, thankful that he had the foresight to keep an arm wrapped around my shoulders to keep me close, otherwise I figured I might’ve slipped right into the tub.

“You wanna share with the class or am I gonna have to play a round of charades here?”

I chuckled wetly at his crap joke but it appeared to settle him a bit, being back on familiar ground.

I sniffed and smiled when a wad of tissue was shoved my way. “Ta. Sorry for um, all this. Just, I didn’t want to talk to anyone else.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, glad I could be some help.” Ross laughed, squeezing me a little tighter and assuring me that he meant it, “So, you gonna fill me in on what has you sobbing in Hann’s loo? There are burgers out there, mate, and hotdogs, fucking kebab skewers even! What’s there to moan about?”

I elbowed his side lightly, finding humour in his words just like he’d wanted. “I’m a fucking veggie, Ross.”

“Shit, yeah. Forgot about that detail.”

I rolled my eyes and then rubbed at my nose lightly, “Only known me since you were about ten, MacDonald.”

“And aren’t you grateful for it.” Ross quipped right back with a smirk, “Come on now, spill.”

I huffed and was forced to remember the terrifying detail I’d been trying to come to terms with, not that I really could. But before I could even utter a word I felt Ross go so utterly still beside me and instantly glanced back up to follow the direction of his gaze. He’d spotted it.

The world seemed to fall out from under me then, whether it was down to the realisation that he now knew too, or the fact that Ross had let go of me to grab at the stick on the sink, I didn’t know, but it was spinning and I only felt myself settle once more when Ross’s eyes finally locked on mine again.

“Ross?” I tried, attempting to gauge his reaction through a watery gaze.

He opened his mouth to speak but then quickly shut it again, glancing back down at the pregnancy test he held. Never had I ever in my life seen Ross speechless. But of course, I’d been the one to manage it.

“Ross, come on.” I gulped down a stutter, shifting on the edge of the bath as my entire body buzzed with nerves. “Say something. I need you to at least say something.”

He inhaled a large breath, big enough that it echoed off the tiles around us, before he finally looked back at me and said, “I’m not touching any of your piss right?”

I snorted in disbelief, because of course that’d be the first thing he’d say. “No, you twat, I put the lid back on.”

Ross sighed as though it was a huge relief- and I guess it was, I wouldn’t want to be touching his piss either- but I was relieved when he claimed his seat back beside me. “So, a baby huh?”

I blew out a breath and now that there was not much left to laugh about I felt a more sombre mood fall over us. “Maybe. Could be. I dunno.”

“Those are all the same answer, mate.”

Shooting him a look, Ross held up his hands and laughed lightly.

“I’m just saying, I mean, isn’t that how it works? You take a test and bish bash bosh, baby.”

With a snort I knocked into him lightly and rolled my eyes, “Sure, exactly like that.”

“You know what I mean.” He retorted, mimicking the movement before he glanced back down at the test he had yet to let go of. “Or you could take another? Just to be sure?”

I tongued at the inside of my cheek, thinking it over. I almost didn’t want to, one pregnancy test could be a fluke, but two? Even three? I’d have a fucking world class breakdown, move over Matty cause I’d definitely be taking the place as the groups most unhinged, or maybe I already was. Probably. We’d have to have a debate the next time I remembered. We liked those.

“Come on, Carls won’t mind and look,” Ross pushed, standing up and turning away from me, “I’ll even turn around so I don’t see.”

With a chuckle, I couldn’t bring myself to say no. Doing this once on my own had been hard enough, if I had to try again I don’t know what I’d do. “Alright.” I whispered and took another test from the box.

“You need me to hum or something?” Ross asked after a moment of shuffling from me. I turned the tap back on to try and cover up the sound, because I’d always been an awkward sort of pee-er. Was that even a word? But still struggled.

“Maybe. Or try the shower.”

“What like turning it on?” I could hear the frown in his voice.

“No, get in it, dickhead. Yes, I meant turn it on!”

“Fucking hell.” He muttered under his breath as he moved to do so, “Hope the baby doesn’t get your patience.”

I tossed the empty box at his back, “Don’t say that!”

The fucking prick laughed.

“Alright, alright! Go on. I can’t hear anything now.”

Thankfully, that big bottle Carly had given me as well as the one I’d been nursing in the car and then outside came into clutch then and I managed to go again.

I flushed and washed my hands, drying them off on the hand towel before telling Ross he could turn back around.

“How long do we wait then?” He questioned from over my shoulder, making me jump.

Stilling my racing heart, I let out a breath. “Two minutes or so.”

Ross hummed from behind me then moved to the side to wrap me up in his arms again, it was nice having someone there this time around, like finding shelter in a rainstorm. 

And so we waited. The seconds felt eternal and the minutes passed excruciatingly slow, but eventually, eventually, we had to look.

I bit my lip. “I can’t do it.”

“Why not?”

“Why the fuck not, he asks! I’m fucking terrified, Ross. I can’t be a mum! I hardly even a person, let alone an actual adult!” I stressed, breathing heavier now that even I noticed it, but Ross only pulled me closer and looked down at me.

“You’re incredible. You hear me? You’ve looked after us lot for years, so I know you’ll fucking ace this shit without even having to try. You’re brilliant, B. Everyone who’s ever met you can tell you as much. If you’re pregnant, then you’ll deal with it like you do everything. But you won’t be doing it alone. You’ve got us. You’ve got a family. And most of all, you’ve got G. He’d do anything for you. A baby will only solidify that. Do you really think he’d leave you high and dry?” He must’ve seen the look that crossed my face when he said that because he blinked, “You do, don’t you?”

“It’s not- I’m-” I stuttered, unable to really defend myself against that statement because a small part of me was scared of exactly that. “I love him, Ross. I do. I just-”

“You’re scared it’ll be like before.” He finished for me and all I could do was nod and he squeezed me a little tighter, “Well, I know that he won’t. Wouldn’t fucking survive it, the idiot. Last time was a fluke. And as much as he hurt you, you know it was his fault for not dealing with his shit, not yours. Never yours. Yeah?”

I nodded again against his chest.

“G won’t leave though, that I can promise you. But, and this is a BIG but, if he did, you’d have me, and you’d have Matty, and Hann and Carly. Denise and Delia and everyone else. You wouldn’t be alone. Never, ever will you be alone, B.”

My eyes were stinging again, “But what if I’m not good enough either? What if I leave? What if I’m exactly like her?”

Her.

And immediately Ross knew just who I was talking about.

“You’re nothing like your mum, love. No where near. Of that I can fucking assure you. You love with everything you’ve got. Like a light house in a stormy sea, you. Lure just about everyone in with your warmth and charm.” He pressed his chin to the top of my head, rocking us again. “What I would give to let you see yourself through my eyes. I swear. And that baby, or any future baby you have, will be the luckiest kid around to be able to call you their mum. Alright?”

Fucking Ross MacDonald. 

“Do you enjoy making me cry?” I asked him through a wet chuckle, squinting up at him now with tear stained cheeks. I gave a sigh when he reached up to wipe them away.

“Only happy tears, yeah? Fucking seeing you cry because of anything else makes me feel like I’ve just been hit by a bus.”

Scoffing out a laugh I couldn’t help, I shook my head at him. “Love you. I know we don’t say that much but I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here.”

He grinned down at me, “Probably sob in the bath, or maybe make an escape out through the window?”

“Maybe.” I smiled.

“You ready yet?”

I chewed on my lip for a hesitant moment then dipped my head, Ross released me and instead took my hand. We both seemed to simultaneously take a deep breath, glancing at one another and then the sink.

“Together?”

“Together.”

He reached for it and I had to keep myself from squeezing my eyes tightly shut, stomach tightening with the butterflies that crowded my insides.

We looked down at the same time before glancing back towards each other.

Ross broke the silence, “Dibs on being godfather.”

— GEORGE’S POV—

September brought the cold. It was more prominent this year though it seemed, barely out of August and already he was in a hat and coat. Still, he’d left knowing he’d be out for quite a while and didn’t want to catch something from freezing his arse off, especially with Birdie being in and out of hospital. She was more susceptible to infection at the minute, since having had her spleen removed after the accident it had been something she’d often struggled with. They’d had a meningitis scare not too long back, big enough to warrant a couple weeks off work but not life threatening. To her at least, George on the other hand had had his balls pulled out through his arse, or that’s what it’d felt like being so constantly on edge. Everything turned out okay in the end though, more than even. Because it was then that he’d learnt about the tiny Baby Daniel she’d been housing.

And what a fucking thought that was. A baby. An entire other person. Both his and hers to keep. Though he only hoped that they got more of her than him.

It had been quite the revelation, watching on as a swarm of nurses wheeled his wife off on a gurney after having just told him the baby was doing fine. Even now it had a way of rendering him utterly speechless.

It was all he’d been able to think about ever since. Will the baby like the colour blue? Will they be a boy, or a girl? Will they have his eyes or hers, her smile or his? He prayed to whatever God that was out there that they only got her nose. Birdie thought his suited him, but he’d keep on wishing any way.

There’d also been the questions that shone a bright sodding stage-light on all of his insecurities. Illuminated them like the Blackpool Tower for every fucker else to see. Matty’d been the first to clock on though, or the first to come and speak to him about it, it’d done him a world of wonder to get it off his chest and have that reassurance, but even now it continued to make him nervous, had him wondering whether or not he’d ever be good enough, if he deserved to have something so precious of his own. But then he’d always struggled with that, hadn’t he, and he was still learning. Adapting, in a sense. These things took time.

He continued to think about it though, about everything which surrounded the baby, as he wandered through a field of dew covered grass, being respectful enough of the aging stone graves that dotted the cemetery as he went. The one he was looking for was further in the back, settled in a plot next to a few others with the same surname.

George took the time to think and settle his nervous thoughts as he made his way on over, revising the map on his phone every few minutes. It was a rather large cemetery, with oversized oak trees and moss that clung to ancient tombs and mausoleums, so it took him a while to finally find it but when he did the nerves he’d been feeling and the anxiety he’d expected failed to hinder him. In fact, he hardly felt anything at all and moved towards the three graves without much thought.

They each bared the same headstone, only difference was that one was much newer than the remaining two. They all had their own inscriptions but it had been a little while since he’d last visited and so he took the time to allow his eyes to wander over the cursive.

‘No Man Is Indispensable But Some Are Irreplaceable.’

‘Too well loved to ever be forgotten, here lies a loving Father, a Husband and a Son.'

And finally, 

‘A woman made of strength and love lies here, today she dances with angels.’

“Heya, Nana.” George greeted in a low murmur, eyes already a little wet as he drew closer to the end plot, “It’s been a while but I’ve brought you your favourites, peonies from Birdie’s shop, blue just like your eyes. She wrapped them up real nice too, but when does she ever not?” George gave a light chuckle at that, placing down the backpack he held and moving around the grave to clear it of any fallen debris, replacing the old flowers with the new.

He rubbed at his nose and stuffed his hands into his coat pockets before taking a seat by her headstone, gaze lingering on the words Birdie had chosen alongside Dee all those years ago now. Dancing with angels, he grinned at the very thought, and dealing with the Devil, he added. Nana had always been one to try her luck, just as wonderfully wild as her granddaughter, and George reckoned she’d probably bested the hellish bastard by now, overthrown him and all.

“Lot’s changed, you know.” He told the woman, “Dee’s met some fella, handsome bloke mind, but they’ve taken her taxi and decided to travel across Europe in it. In Germany now, though I wouldn’t be surprised if they phoned us up tomorrow claiming to be in Egypt. But you know her, she’s a free spirit. Should be back by February though, that’s just before the baby’s due. Yeah, not hers though- could you imagine?” 

George couldn’t help the cackle that escaped him at that and was immensely grateful for the fact that no-one else seemed to be wandering around anywhere close. “Sorry, sorry, but yeah. No it’s Birdie. She’s nearing fourteen weeks now. Can you picture it? Us two with a little one. My dad can’t wait, neither can the lads. Reckon you’d be dancing about too if you were still here, telling everyone to quit their fussing then make B a brew just how she likes.”

He let a quiet settle, smiling softly as the morning breeze flittered past.

“I know she misses you. Kills her to not have you here to see it all. But,” He took a moment, “I understand why, never met anyone quite like you, doubt I ever will. You took me in without a care for the consequences. Let me stay with you each summer, listened to me moan on about the band and music, came to our first few London gigs.” He cracked a smile at the reminder, “Can still picture those shirts you and Dee made, reckon B has them stashed away somewhere. Have to ask. But as much as I’d love to stay and chat all day, I promised myself I’d say hi to Charlie over there and stop by to talk to her Dad for a bit.”

George was careful as he stood back up, laying a hand over Nana’s name before wiping off the damp grass which clung to his jeans and stepping away. 

He only had to walk a few short steps before he was grinning at the grave sat beside Nana’s, he made quick work of pulling out a bottle of Scotch from his bag as well as a shot glass, then placed them both down on the cold marble. Just as he did each time they visited, he poured the man a hearty glass and spoke to him about his favourite football team. “Hiya, Charlie. West Ham’s fourth on the league table at the minute, mate. Doing alright this year, but Cities still in first so, guess they’ll have to try just a bit harder.”

With a light laugh, George patted the man’s headstone before finally wandering over to the next, to where Birdie’s father lay, the man she idolised most.

He took a deep breath feeling a little fearful suddenly, but not of the situation, rather of disappointing the man. Of this whole thing going tits up. But this was something he’d wanted. Felt he needed to do. So he let go of the air inside his lungs and, just as he did by Nana, he took a seat by the man’s grave. 

“We’ve never spoken much, you and I.” He begun, voice quieter now than it had just been, “But I know B visits when she can. I brought you a bird actually, little statue thing with these stones embedded in its eyes, B reckons they’ll bring peace, but I think you’ve already found that now. Still, it reminds me of her, a Song Thrush, they’re pretty and sing like a poet.”

Leaning in closer, George took time placing the statue where he thought it would last the longest and smiled softly before going back to his bag to pull out a colourful wind spinner, he stuck in the damp soil near his leg before he spoke again. 

“Dee also likes to talk about you, says you had a thing for wind chimes and these things. Can see the appeal, they’re nice to watch, let you know which way the wind’ll blow. Said you also would’ve liked me too, and I can only hope she’s right.” He laughed quietly to himself, thumbing the ring on his left hand. “Be a bit messy if you didn’t though, ‘cause I love her more than anything. Do anything she asks, go anywhere she pleases. She’s like my own little wind spinner in a sense, can never tell which way I’m going with her but I know we’ll never stop spinning.

“I know I should’ve made this trip a long while ago. Maybe after we got back, maybe even before that. I have no excuse except for the fact that I’ve been a bit scared to ask this of you, because I know I’ll never really hear your honest answer. I can only pray that you’d be happy for her.”

It had been something he’s wanted to do since he was a teenager, ever since that first trip down to London, but after all these years of having clung to the man’s lighter he felt like he sort of knew him in a way. Knew that the dent in its side was from the way he used to knock his hip off of the radiator back in Nana’s house when climbing the stairs. Saw the way the striker wheel had been changed a long while back, different to the original but very very close. And how the hinge had been struck a few times to keep the lid from going floppy. He cared a great deal for the things he owned and it showed how much he loved the gifts he’d been given, seeing as though he had gotten it from his own father before Birdie had ever been born.

It was a strange concept, but it brought George a little peace.

“I don’t know if you heard, I know that Nana tends to gossip, but you’ll be a grandfather soon.” George told him with a wide smile as he pulled to his wallet to look down at the first Ultrasound picture they’d been given. “They’re a lot bigger now. This was when I first found out though. That daughter of yours had known for a week or two by that point. But I was over the moon and also terrified, so I can see how she kept it under wraps for so long. We’ve got a few names going in the raffle, our friends all want to have the honour of naming them, but B and I are waiting for the perfect one.”

George let his thumb brush over the picture before he sat it up and open on the grave, leaving it there until he had to go.

“I’ve known Birdie for so long now, she doesn’t know it but since the day I laid eyes on her she’s all I’ve ever wanted. And I would’ve taken anything she’d have given me. Whether that’d been a passing look or a chance at just being her mate. So when were younger and finally together, I thought I’d won the lottery. And I had. But then we got to speaking about marriage. What we wanted in the future, if kids would ever come into the picture, what house we’d buy. Just things you speak about with someone like that. Yeah, we’d been young but we’d both been through a lot. We knew more than most. Had experienced it.

“But anyway, when she’d said she never wanted any of that. Couldn’t see it for herself, and I understood. Broke my fucking heart a bit, but I’d’ve given her the stars if I could’ve. Even now. So it’s funny how it all changed. We’re married and there’s that baby on the way. Though, now that we’ve done it, now that we’ve acknowledged the fact that this thing we were both a little wary of is something we can have without the fear and terror, I want to do it properly, you know? So I thought it was only respectful to come and ask you first.”

And there was that nervousness finally, but it was out in the open now. Perhaps it was silly asking a man long since buried this question but it just felt right. 

“I don’t think we’ll have big ceremony or anything even if she does say yes, we’re not the type. But at least then we can say we did it right, and as much as I now love that little elopement of ours, I really want her to know how much I love her. That I will forever be hers. In both heart and mind. And that I’m proud to bare this ring.” 

George swallowed thickly at the onslaught of emotions this trip had pulled from him, then wiped under his nose. He picked up his wallet and folded it away then took his stand, running a hand through his hair as he tried to get ahold of himself, didn’t want to start sobbing his way back to the carpark now. Though it was a near thing. 

“Right, I’d best be off anyway. Said I’d pick B up some strawberries from the market, she’ll only eat them at the minute, pairs them with this horrid jam as well. It’s proper grim but I’d never say a bad thing about it. Spent ages consoling her the one time Matty did. But he’s a nightmare that never learns.” He scratched at the nape of his neck after having shouldered his bag, feeling the effects of this outing already. “I’ll make sure to visit soon, with Birdie and then the baby too hopefully.”

He glanced down at the wind spinner then and was surprised to see it had stopped spinning, he frowned slightly at the sight and double checked to see if he could still feel the breeze, he did, it was hard not to in truth. So slowly he made his way back over and just as he begun to crouch down the thing started spinning once more.

George blinked down at it, once then twice, and then simply laughed. Hoping that maybe it’d been some sort of sign.

“I’ll look after her.” He promised, sparing one last glance to the final grave before he made his way back to the car.

—

The moving van reached the house long before I did, but I was just thankful that George had been able to take the time off to get there earlier than me. I parked up in a bay and waddled down the pavement to peer into the back of it, smiling when I found that almost half of it had already been moved inside. Which was good for me, seeing as though I’d hardly be of any help, pregnant or not.

“B!” I heard someone shout out and turned to find Matty stood on the top step of the familiar terraced house, he waved me closer but jogged down the steps to greet me once I’d made it over, “Figured you get here a little later, G and I are just setting up the living room.” 

“Really?” I questioned in surprise, grateful when he took my arm to help me up the stairs and into the house. I grinned at the familiar feeling that washed over me upon walking in.

“Really.” Matty laughed, taking my coat and hanging it amongst the rest by the door. The little gentleman. If I’d only known that it’d just take me turning into a whale to get Matty to wait on me hand and foot I’d’ve done it sooner. Not even G was as bad as him. “Your Nana had good taste though, so I can see why you and George don’t wanna change much.”

I grinned, glad that he saw it too. We’d been gifted the house in Bethnal Green by Dee after the reading of Nana’s will, she wanted us to have a proper home for the little one and figured it would be the best place for us. And my God was it. It was everything I’d dreamed of and more. It filled me with so much happiness to know that my child would be growing up in the environment I loved most when I’d been little.

“Where is he, anyway?” I asked, leaning against the bannister to peer up the main stairs and at the landing, we’d had some builders in to change a few things since the house had been signed over and I hadn’t yet seen it all fully finished. 

“Who, G?” Matty said and at my nod he went on, “Left him in the living room, we were trying to put together a cabinet, probably still in there.”

We both chuckled and wandered in through the side door to find George sat on the living room floor just behind the sofa looking very close to fuming. “Fuck sake, Matty! When you said a minute, I thought you were joking! Whole fucking thing collapsed on me the second you left, you prick!”

“Oi, no swearing around the baby, please.” Matty scolded, though he looked all too pleased with himself, and I watched on as George angled his head further backwards to see me stood in the doorway. I waved. 

“Birdie! Thank fuck someone capable has arrived. Be a love and help me up, would you?”

I laughed and moved to do just that before Matty’s indignant squark stopped me in my tracks, “I don’t think so, mate. Get yourself up. I’ll take B into the kitchen, get you some tea, yeah? Were you at the shop long?”

I bit my lip to keep from cackling at the expression that overwhelmed G’s face then but was already being dragged away.

“I can still do shit you know.” I said to Matty before being steered onto a barstool, I let him get away with it though, observing how effortlessly he worked his way around the kitchen, switching on the kettle and pulling out the milk from the massive fridge George had insisted on buying. 

“Language.” Matty reminded me and I could only roll my eyes, “And I know, you just shouldn’t have to.”

“That so?” I hummed around a smile.

Matty nodded, pulling the few glasses we’d brought over for visits during construction onto the counter, “Look, the way I see it, the baby’s not here yet so if you want, I don’t mind offing G and telling everyone the kid’s mine. I mean, you saw him in there,” He shook his head all serious like, “It ain’t on, B. Got to cut your loses while you still can.”

“Sorry, what was that?” I sorted at George’s sudden arrival, wondering how this would all go down and decided to stir the pot a bit.

“Matty reckons I’d be better off making a run for it while I still can, already got a car ready and waiting for when I say the word.”

George shook his head in veiled amusement and stepped further into the kitchen to swipe a tea towel against Matty’s backside. “Keep talking like that and I’ll see to it that you never meet my baby, you dick.”

“Swearing!” Matty once again reminded the pair of us and I couldn’t help my incessant giggling now, eyes darting back and forth between the pair, “And I dare you to try, George Daniel. I have rights!”

“What rights!”

“Godfatherly rights!”

“Fuck off, Ross claimed that already.”

“Swearing! And I don’t care you can have more than one godfather!”

“No, we’ve discussed this already.”

“No we have not.”

“Yes, we have.”

“No, we have not.”

“Matty.”

“George!”

George groaned dramatically and decidedly tossed the tea towel he still had in hand at Matty’s head, the curly haired singer grunted before throwing it right back at him, then turning to me.

“B, tell him.” He was all but whining now. 

“George, Matty can be whatever he likes.”

Matty practically beamed upon hearing that whilst G just scowled, “Over my dead body.”

“That’s fine. I can make do.”

George rolled his eyes at the blatant threat, but threw himself into the chair beside me to press his forehead against the counter instead of replying. I ran a hand through his hair.

“It’s okay, babe. He’ll give up once he realises it’ll mostly just be shitty nappies and crying until they’re old enough to walk.” I reassured but Matty didn’t think much of it.

“I fucking won’t.”

George shot straight back up at that with a grin as big as Matty’s ego on his face and I already knew what he was going to say.

“Language, Matthew! And in front of your godchild too, shame.”

Although Matty looked shocked to have let the curse accident slip, his whole demeanour changed when he truly internalised George’s words. “Wait, actually?”

George laughed, glancing at me before slinging an arm around my waist, “We decided on it a while ago, mate. Baby Daniel will have the typical four godparents, only thing is you, Hann and Ross will have to decide between yourselves on who’s the second godmother.”

I rolled my eyes at that, but still found myself unable to stop grinning. The baby was set to have three godfathers at this point and then Carly, who we’d already asked, as a godmother. It was a lucky little thing and had yet to even be born.

“I don’t even care. I’ll throw on a pair of tits and a wig if it gets me an in.”

George barked a loud laugh at his best mate’s reply and I could only chuckle alongside him as Matty handed me over my tea, grateful to have them both, as well as the rest of my family. It wasn’t long now either before the baby would soon come along too, another thing I’d forever be grateful for.

And to think, I barely resembled the girl I’d once been, it was strange to see all that I’d been given.

I wouldn’t waste it.