#Bath Soft Cheese Company

[investmentassistant]

How to plan the perfect solo night in

Sometimes, the best company for the evening is yourself. Planning a night in alone can be a perfect way to recharge, unwind, and spend quality time doing exactly what you love. Here’s a guide to making sure your solo night is exactly what you need—relaxing, enjoyable, and memorable.

Set the scene

Creating the right atmosphere can make all the difference. First, think about how you want the space to feel. Do you want a cozy setup with dim lights, soft blankets, and a warm drink? Or maybe something lively with upbeat music and bright lighting?

Choose a spot where you feel comfortable and add some personal touches. Light a few scented candles, arrange some pillows, or play your favorite playlist softly in the background. Making your space feel welcoming will help set the tone for a truly enjoyable night.

Treat yourself to your favorite food

No solo night is complete without a bit of indulgence, so treat yourself to your favorite food. You could either go the homemade route and cook yourself a special meal, or simply order from your favorite restaurant. If you’re in the mood to cook, consider trying out a new recipe or making a comfort food that you rarely take the time to prepare.

For those who love a little variety, consider preparing a few different snacks or a small charcuterie board. Here are a few snack ideas to inspire you:

Fresh popcorn with different seasonings

A charcuterie board with cheese, fruits, and nuts

Mini sliders or sliders of your favorite type

Dark chocolate or a mix of sweet treats

Take a moment to savor the food you’ve prepared or ordered. Eating slowly and mindfully can add to the relaxation and enjoyment of your evening.

Choose the perfect entertainment

When it comes to entertainment, choose something that feels right for the night. If you’re in the mood for a film, consider revisiting an old favorite or trying a movie from a genre you don’t usually watch. Some nights call for classic comedies, while others might feel more suited to a drama or a mystery.

Alternatively, if you’d rather read, pick up a book that you’ve been meaning to dive into. For those who love a mix of options, start with a movie and then transition into reading—it’s your night, so feel free to experiment with different activities.

If you’re interested in a more active approach, you could try:

Listening to a podcast

Doing a short creative project like sketching or journaling

Practicing a bit of meditation or stretching

A night spent doing something out of the ordinary can add a bit of excitement to your evening, even if it’s something simple.

Unplug for a truly relaxing experience

It can be tempting to scroll through social media or check messages during your solo night in, but consider putting your phone away for a while. Disconnecting from screens can help you feel more present and connected to yourself.

If you want to document the night, take a few photos or jot down a few thoughts, but try to avoid distractions. Many people find that turning off their phone entirely or setting it on airplane mode helps them fully unwind. Allowing yourself this “offline” time can make your night feel more like a mini-retreat.

Indulge in self-care

One of the best parts of a solo night in is that you can completely focus on yourself. This is a great time to pamper yourself with a bit of self-care. You could take a long bath, use that face mask you’ve been saving, or try out some meditation or breathing exercises.

Self-care doesn’t have to be elaborate—it’s about doing what makes you feel good. You could do a quick workout, write down a few positive affirmations, or simply enjoy some silence. Taking this time for yourself, even if it’s just a few minutes, can feel incredibly refreshing.

Reflect and unwind

As your solo night winds down, take a few moments to reflect. Think about what you enjoyed, what helped you relax, and any thoughts or ideas that came up during the evening. Sometimes, spending time alone can spark new inspiration or give you a fresh perspective.

Whether it’s by writing in a journal, taking a few deep breaths, or simply enjoying the quiet, let yourself feel the benefits of your solo time. Ending the night on a calm, positive note can help you feel recharged and ready for whatever’s next.

[lieslab]

Stupid Bird

Summary: Hyunjin plans an outdoor spring date for the two of you.

Pairing: Hynunjin X gn reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.7K

_ _ _

“What are you doing?” You raised an eyebrow as you glanced over the top of your phone. 

You had been laying on the couch scrolling through your social media accounts when Hyunjin came through the front door. Earlier he had disappeared outside and told you to stay put. You had questions, but Hyunjin was Hyunjin, so you stayed silent. You hadn’t left your spot on the couch. 

He pushed his face closer to yours. You slowly pulled your phone down, so you could see him better. His warm brown eyes were sparkling with excitement. “Do you remember how I told you that I wanted to have a date with you outside? I never knew what I wanted to do, but I wanted it to be outside.” 

Ever since the winter months had started to warm up, Hyunjin had wanted to be outside more. The frost had disappeared and the snow had melted away. Dreary gray skies had been replaced with baby blue hues and white cotton clouds. 

The Earth had finally begun to reawaken from its slumber. Bare tree limbs had sprouted with new leaves. South Korea’s cherry blossom trees had finally started to bloom. The soft pink flowers filled the air with their sweet scent.

The natural wildlife had started prowling around again. The warm morning sunshine was filled with birds chirping. Every morning, without a doubt, you were greeted by their natural alarms. Butterflies flapped their wings and fluttered gracefully. The bright green grass was soft and spongy beneath your feet, finally warmed after spending months frozen solid. 

Hyunjin seemed to be able to romanticize every season, but in the spring, he bloomed. Sometimes in the colder months, he had days where he felt a little more down than usual. You always had to find a way to help him out of his dreary fog. In the spring, it didn’t happen as much. 

When it did, you tugged him with you outside and his mood would change. Maybe it was the slight breeze in his face or the sight of a wild rabbit. The squirrels shoving food into their cheek pockets with tiny hands which reminded him of Han. The bright sunshine that warmed his face. He always seemed to feel a lot lighter in the spring. 

“I do remember that,” you dropped your phone on your chest. “What about it? Did you plan something?” 

“I didn’t just plan it, I set something up. Come on!” He grabbed your hand and pulled you up. 

You let him jerk your body off the couch and followed him outside. The two of you had moved into your own apartment a few months ago. You were only about a fifteen minute drive from his company. 

Outside, you were hit with the smell of fresh cut grass. Whoever your landlord hired to mow it had just finished mowing earlier this morning. You let Hyunjin pull you along until he dropped your hand. He had led you to a small table with a plastic back table cloth covering it. 

Two folding chairs were placed on either side of the table. Two wooden birdhouses sat on each end. A spread of different sized paint brushes and paint tubes sat in the middle of the table. Off to one side, a small circular charcuterie board had been set up. 

Different meats and cheese cubes accompanied crackers and a few fruits. You looked at the table with wide eyes. “When did you make this?” 

“I made it back at the dorms and had Changbin drive it over earlier. I made it last night before I came home. What do you think? Do you like it?” 

“Like it? I love it!” 

His mouth curled up in a smile. He moved a chair out and gestured for you to sit down. You quickly sat down and he hurried to sit across from you. 

“I was thinking that we could paint these birdhouses and nibble on some snacks. I know we’re not always a huge fan of the birds every morning, but they do live around here.” 

One of your neighbors had her front yard decorated with a wide variety of birdhouses and a bird bath. Birds were always in the area, but since she regularly fed and watered them, there were a lot more birds in the area. 

“Maybe if we’re lucky, one of them will use one and lay eggs. Maybe we’ll get our very own little bird family. We can name the kids and we can feed them every morning.” 

“Are we going to buy worms for them?” 

Hyunjin’s face scrunched up in disgust, “I meant bird seed!” 

You let out a laugh and pulled the bird house closer to you. “What color are you going to paint yours?” 

“I don’t know yet. I was thinking of something bright and colorful. The apartment is white and it’s a little drab on the outside. What are you going to do?” 

“I’m not sure yet.” Your eyes scanned the paint before you finally picked up your favorite color. You picked out a black handled brush. 

“I forgot the water and palettes!” Hyunjin got up and quickly hurried inside. A few moments later, he came back with two disposable cups and two small wooden paint palettes. 

He placed one in front of you and set the cup down beside you before returning to his own seat. The two of you laughed and nibbled on the food he prepped beneath the warm sun. You kept getting distracted by the conversation. You’d paint a few strokes before you’d pull your head up and speak. The mild weather was nice enough that the two of you could relax in your t-shirts and jeans. 

Two hours later, you had finally finished the first coat of the house. You glanced over to eye Hyunjin’s and your mouth opened in shock. Not only had he painted his birdhouse, but he made it look like an actual house. He had painted small multi-colored flowers around the sides. Shingles had been added to the roof. He was in the process of creating a painted window on the side. 

Your lips sat out in a pout, “this isn’t fair. You’re one-upping me! The birds are going to think your house is so much better than mine.” 

“Sweetheart, it’s not my fault that you decided to date an artist. You knew what you were signing up for when you agreed to date me. It’s not my fault that my artistic ability tops yours.” 

“Hey!” You called out playfully. You knew that he was just joking and meant no harm. The two of you were used to bickering back and forth. You crossed your arms over your chest and let out a dramatic huff. 

Maybe you had learned a thing or two about theatrics while dating him. Even the most minor inconveniences caused you to put on a show. It had been a running joke that Hyunjin had corrupted you. You didn’t do it all the time, but when you did, you were sure to make it as dramatic as possible. 

“Oh, you poor thing,” Hyunjin cooed. 

He finished his window and put down his brush. He pushed himself out of his chair and towards you. He wrapped his arms around you tightly. 

“There, there, don’t worry. I’m sure the birds will appreciate your house, but they’ll just appreciate mine a little more.” He planted a wet sloppy kiss on the side of your cheek. You squealed and squirmed in his grip as he laughed. 

“You got your germs on me!” 

“I’m so sorry, let me fix it.” 

He released you from his grip and pulled you to your feet. You thought he was going to wipe off his saliva, but he cupped your face between his hands. Your eyes widened in shock as his lips came back into contact with your face. 

Over and over again, he pressed kisses to your face. Loud smooches filled the air. He didn’t care if the neighbors were watching. Your giggles caused his heart to flutter in his chest. 

“Hyunjin, get off of me! 

He placed a final kiss on the tip of your nose before he pulled away grinning. You frantically wiped at your face. He shook his head, “it’s too late. My kisses have already soaked into your skin. You’ve got my cooties now.” 

“Ew.” 

The sound of his laughter caused you to start laughing again. You stopped as something flew by the corner of your eye. The laughing ceased and the two of you glanced over at the table. You watched in silence while a bird landed in the middle of it.

“He’s going to pick my house,” Hyunjin whispered. 

“No he’s not!” You whispered back. “He’s going to explore mine.” 

The two of you held your breaths as the white and brown bird tipped its head to explore the surroundings. You bite down on the inside of your cheek eager to prove that your house was better even if it was a basic color. 

Without a word, the bird hopped over to the charcuterie board. It tipped its head and surveyed the food. Black beady eyes scanned slowly before it bent down. Taking their time, they picked up a blueberry before flying off. 

The two of you watched it fly over to your neighbors house. It landed on top of one of her birdhouses before it stuck its head into the opening and shimmied inside. You and Hyunjin glanced at each other for a moment. 

“Well…I guess he already has a home.” 

You glanced over at Hyunjin. A smile slowly spread across your face. “Maybe our birdhouses should dry. That’s probably why he didn’t pick one. The smell of paint was too strong.” 

Hyunjin nodded, “I guess that explains it perfectly. He would have picked mine.” 

“No he wouldn’t have!” 

“Yes he would!” 

“No he would not!” 

The two of you kept bickering back and forth for a while until Hyunjin grabbed your face again. He pressed his lips against yours to get you to shut up. Your lips moved in sync with his as you kissed him back. After a while, he pulled away and left you dizzy and breathless. 

“Maybe we both have good birdhouses and the bird just has a bad opinion.” 

You nodded in agreement with bright eyes, flushed cheeks, and swollen lips. “Yeah, yeah; that’s exactly what happened.” 

“Stupid bird?” 

“Stupid bird.” 

[badwritinghabit]

Chef's Kiss | Carmy x fem!OC x Luca | Chapter 8

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Warnings: language, yelling, cheesiness.

Word Count: 4,614

Summary: Luca surprises Sophie with a phone call. Sophie and Carmy fight. Luca comforts Sophie after a rough night-- twice.

Sophie was already itching to text Luca as she returned home from their afternoon out. She had googled ‘things to see in Copenhagen’ a few minutes into her train ride, excited at the prospect of visiting him. It was rare she had such an instant connection with someone. She didn’t want to lose it. 

But she knew she shouldn’t get her hopes up about being able to keep in contact. He lived so far away. And she was in Chicago for a reason. She hoped she’d get to visit him in the not too distant future. But there was no point lingering too long in her daydreams. 

She distracted herself by doing some of the things she loved. First she made some of her homemade poppy seed rolls in preparation to treat herself to an egg and cheese sandwich the next morning-- a favorite from her time in NYC. For dinner, she made herself one of her favorite comfort foods-- bruschetta.

After she ate, she did some intensive some self care. She took a bubble bath, covered herself in lotion, put on a sheet mask, and then laid on her couch. She started watching Love Island on her laptop, propping it up on her legs as she laid against the armrest of the couch. She was behind an episode and knew her sister would want to talk about it when she got back. 

A few minutes after she laid down, she heard her phone vibrating against the wood of the table. She reached over, grabbing the phone with a tired groan. She sat straight up when she saw Luca’s name on the screen. She moved the laptop to the table and hit the green answer button on her phone.

“Hello?” she answered, voice coming out rushed. She reached over to pause the video on her laptop.

“Hi Sophie. How’s your night?” Luca asked.

“Good. Quiet. Just watching a show. Yours?” she asked, sinking back into her couch. Her nervous excitement immediately tempered by the already comfortingly familiar sound of his voice.

“It’s quiet here too,” he said, voice soft. “I got back to my hotel room and realized there was somewhere I’d rather be.” 

“Yeah?” Sophie smiled, knowing she sounded embarrassingly eager. She couldn’t find it in herself to care.

“Would you like some company? I have to be up early for my flight but I could bring my luggage over and leave from there.”

“Yes!” she agreed immediately. “And I’m always up early anyways.” 

“OK. Great. I’ll be there in a bit,” he sounded as excited as she did and she felt fluttery. They had one more night. 

As soon as she hung up she went to the bathroom and peeled the face mask off. She fanned her face, trying to dry her skin quicker while she ran over to her bedroom. She quickly changed from her ratty t-shirt to a much cuter silky pajama set. She tidied, putting a few dishes into the dishwasher. 

She looked around for other things to do. On a whim, she lit the candles she had on the table. After she returned from double checking her bedroom, she felt embarrassed at the lit candles and decided it was too much. She blew them out.

Realizing she was doing way too much, she sat, forcing herself to stop overthinking and just put Love Island back on to distract her until he arrived.

When she ran down to let him in, she realized she had forgotten how chilly it was outside. She opened the door and immediately wrapped an arm around herself, severely underdressed for the weather.

Luca stood in front of her with his small rolling suitcase and a leather messenger bag.  “Hey,” she greeted with a soft smile, despite the shiver that shot down her spine.

He stepped forward and leaned down to kiss her gently. “You’re cold. Let’s get inside.” His hands rubbed up and down her arms quickly to warm her. 

“Are you watching Love Island?” Luca asked, as he walked in and looked at her laptop propped up on her coffee table. He set his luggage aside, walked over, and plopped down on her couch. She shot him a questioning look, surprised he knew about the reality tv show. At his grin, she followed and sat next to him. 

Sophie curled into him as he threw his arm around the back of the couch. She melted into the comfort of his warmth, feeling like it was where she belonged.

“Catch me up on what’s going on. My mom and sister love this show so I hear about it on our weekly calls,” Luca said as he started stroking her arm, up and down, gentle and familiar.  

Sophie launched into an update after asking what he already knew. Something about the comfortable domesticity of being curled up on the sofa watching reality TV hit her and she snuggled into him more, so cozy she found herself fighting off sleep. 

As the episode ended, Sophie snuggled into Luca with a yawn, blinking tired eyes as she tried to wake herself from the drowsy, comfy reverie she found herself in– wrapped safe in Luca’s arms. 

“Bed time?” he asked, looking tired himself. She nodded.

Sophie got in bed to wait for him, trying to stay awake. He returned from the bathroom in an old t-shirt and climbed into bed with her, pulling her gently into his arms. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. 

“I should set an alarm for 6:30. I have to be to the airport by 8,” Luca said.

“I set your phone on the charger by your side,” she said, pointing to the side table. He leaned over to grab his phone, keeping one arm wrapped around her. She snuggled into his chest.

“This is a nice shirt,” Sophie mumbled as Luca fiddled with his phone. Her fingers played with the hem. It had the soft worn feeling of a well loved piece of clothing. 

“It’s an old football shirt. Used to play with some friends years back,” he said as he put the phone down. Sophie had snuck her hand underneath the shirt and around his side to wrap him in a hug. “You can have it if you want,” his voice was slowed, tired as he sunk down into her bed, comfortable in her arms. 

“Wait really?” she perked up, cheeks glowing pink. 

“Yeah. Not as soft as these pajamas but might keep you a bit warmer,” he teased, his hand running up her thigh and to her side, the silky fabric bunching against her, the heat of his palm finding the soft skin of her waist.

She blushed and hugged him tighter. “I’d like that,” she admitted, quietly. His hands caressed her side in calming movements that slowed as he sighed and shifted, getting comfortable.

She realized, slowly, that he didn’t want to have sex. He just wanted to sleep. With her. Wrapped in each other’s arms. She leaned up, cupping his face gently and pressing a kiss to his cheek before settling back down to wrap herself around him. “Goodnight, Luca.” 

“Goodnight.”

---

Sophie was glad she had prepared the rolls, pleased she ended up having the chance to cook one of her comfort dishes for Luca. The two enjoyed a breakfast of egg sandwiches and coffee over the soundtrack provided by her neighbor’s music loud enough to be heard through the wall. Luca remarked on the songs between their quiet conversation, his easy going commentary making her smile. 

They kissed goodbye on the stairs outside of her apartment building. “Text me when you get there safely,” she said, before really thinking about what that kind of request meant. He agreed. 

And then he left.

She climbed the stairs to her apartment and shuffled back to her bed to lay down. She found he had left the t-shirt he had worn the night before. Folded neatly and placed on top of her blanket.

---

Sophie and Luca texted non stop through his time in New York. She loved seeing the pictures he sent. She shared some of her own, though she rarely had anything terribly interesting to send. Luca always seemed happy to hear about her days anyways. 

Their conversations dropped off a few days later, after he returned home to Copenhagen. She was disappointed. She had found herself hoping for more, against her better instincts. She knew it was unlikely they’d be able to stay in contact with such a massive distance between them.

She decided to try to be happy with the experience and leave it at that. She couldn’t leave her sister anytime soon. And she had gotten so very attached to him in their three days together. Maybe it was healthy to step back a bit.

She forced the thoughts from her head as she walked into The Bear. She had told Carmy she'd return to help with decor decisions. And after their night of tapas and talking, she thought things between them were finally cleared. But as she stepped through the door, she found herself face to face with a clearly irritated Carmy.

“We don’t need you here,” he said, turning away from her, twisting a rag in his hands as he looked back down at a place setting and some dishware.

“What? I thought we were just going to talk about plates– and decor and stuff,” she said, confused and hurt. She thought things had been smoothed over between them.

“Yeah. But we don’t need you,” he said, again, arms crossed. 

“What is this about?” she asked, getting frustrated. “Just tell me, okay?”

“You don’t need to be here. It isn’t your restaurant.” He was getting louder and instead of feeling cowed or wanting to run, Sophie found herself getting angry. 

“What the fuck, Carmen? Just tell me what you’re actually mad about.” 

“You didn’t tell Luca about your sister,” he said, voice suddenly quieter again. She heard a familiar voice from her side and she glanced over to see Fak mutter something to Nat, Carmy’s sister. They were both standing behind them, watching. Nat grabbed Fak’s arm and walked him away, giving her and Carmy privacy. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” her voice shook, hurt that he had brought this up in front of an audience. 

“He called me a few days ago, wanting to talk about you. And I had to tell him why you’re in Chicago.” He was getting louder. “It’s not my fucking job to be your babysitter.” He threw the cloth he was holding on the table and walked away. 

Sophie followed after him. “You’re not running away from this Carmen,” she followed him back into the kitchen. “Talk to me!” she shouted as she got through the door. He turned, looking furious. And that made her even angrier. “Why the fuck would you tell him? Why is this your business?” “He’s my friend! And you just didn’t mention that your sister has cancer? That maybe he shouldn’t start planning trips for you to come see him?”

Some part of Sophie’s brain stuck on that idea. That Luca had wanted her to come see him. But the rest of her was pounding heart, pumping blood, furious at Carmy. 

“It wasn’t your place to tell him. This is my life!” she nearly growled at him. She was furious he had meddled. Furious he was judging her for this. Like he hadn’t kissed her after he started talking to Claire again.

He was supposed to be her friend.  

“Listen to yourself. This is his life too. You can’t fuck around with my friends.” 

“Fuck around with your friends? He asked me out! We’re adults, Carmy!” She wanted to scream at him. What was his problem? “He lives in Copenhagen. He was here for three days. He didn’t need to know!” 

“It isn’t my job to clean up after you anymore,” he said, voice cold and deliberate. It was a low blow. Cruel. She felt it in her ribcage. 

She thought for a second she saw remorse in his eyes, as if he could see how much it had hurt to hear him disparage the help he had given her. But he didn’t say anything else.

“Okay Carmen,” she said bitterly, turning to leave.

But she felt the tide of anger rise up and she clenched her fists. How could he act like she was in the wrong? After everything that had happened?

“No– you know what? Who do you think you are? I wanted one nice day! One fucking day where I wasn’t the sad girl. And don’t act like you don’t know Carmen. You can’t be mad at me for not telling my whole life story to someone I had known for three days.” She was breathing heavily, still staring him dead in the eye. 

He just shook his head. Watching him judge her was infuriating. She couldn’t help herself. “I didn’t lie! He didn’t ask. I told him I moved here for my sister. He didn’t ask why.”

“I don’t want to listen to your excuses,” he said, voice deadly calm. But she was still shaking with righteous fury. “Fine. I’m done, Carmen. I’m so fucking done.” She stormed past and left out the back door. She was shaking, her breaths coming fast. She tried to hold back tears but stormed out of the alley behind The Bear, tears streaming down her face. 

She thought she heard someone calling for her but she kept up her pace and left, not wanting to talk to anyone.

---

Sophie sat on her couch, ignoring the television show playing in front of her. Her phone started buzzing on her coffee table so she reached out, freezing when Carmy’s name flashed on the screen. 

She groaned and left it, ignoring the call. She was not ready to talk to him. Sick of the yelling and the fighting. She wanted to help him but he made it so fucking hard. She was done with the hot and cold. She just wanted a quiet night. 

A little while later she saw the indicator pop up meaning he left a message. She didn’t listen to it. 

She felt like the little magic bubble around her time with Luca popped and she was back in the real world. She pushed the heels of her hands against her eyelids, frustrated with herself. She decided to just text Luca. Clear the air. She didn’t want to sit with this feeling. 

“Hey! Want to set up a call soon? It has been a while,” she sent, figuring she would keep it light. She didn’t want to send him an ominous ‘we need to talk’ text. 

An hour or so later he replied. 

“Are you still awake? I could call while I’m walking to work.” 

“That would be great! I’ll be up for a while yet.” 

After 20 minutes, her phone finally started to ring. “Hello?” she answered quickly.

“Hey,” he responded. His voice calmed her a little, the same warm Luca. 

Still, there was an awkward silence. She knew she needed to talk about it. But she put it off a little longer.

“It’s early. 4:30 there?” 

“Yeah it’s about a 20 minute walk from my place. It’s nice here in the early mornings though. Peaceful.” 

“That sounds nice,” Sophie agreed.

Another pause. She breathed. Knew she needed to get it out in the open. “I suppose I should tell you, Carmy told me about the conversation you two had.” 

Luca was quiet on the other side of the world. 

“He was mad on your behalf. Didn’t let me off easy. He’s a good friend to have.” She sighed after a pause.

“He was mad?” He sounded surprised.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to hide things. It’s just– we were having a nice time and I didn’t want to ruin it,” she said, quietly. 

“Sophie, he shouldn’t have been mad. I’m not mad,” Luca said, sounding concerned. “You moved across the country to take care of your family. Why would I be mad that you didn’t tell me all of that after only a few days?”

Sophie was relieved but confused. Carmy had exploded at her. She assumed Luca must have been mad too. She felt tears in her eyes, wanting to be released. She took a shaky breath, not sure how to reply. 

“Are you all right?” 

“Yeah,” she answered but her trembling voice betrayed her.

“Oh love,” he said. “You thought I was mad? I’m not. I was trying to figure out what to say. I was going to call on my day off tomorrow.”

“It was such a magical couple days. I thought I had ruined it,” she admitted, feeling stupid. “I’m sorry. It’s been a weird day. I’m fine.” 

“Sophie. You don’t need to apologize. Really.” She heard some noise on his end, like someone was greeting him. And he was quiet for a bit. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah,” she said, voice a little less wobbly. “Sorry, I’m trying to figure out what happened.”

“Yeah- I don’t really understand myself. I’ll talk to Carmy,” he sounded a little frustrated. 

“Maybe he is just caught up with the restaurant stuff,” she said, tiredly, defending him without really thinking about it. 

Luca hummed. “Are you okay?” he asked, sounding concerned.

“Yeah. I think I was preparing myself for a different conversation so I’m catching up.” 

“I’m sorry I made you think you did something wrong. I shouldn’t have talked to Carmy. I didn’t think about it.”

“No it’s okay.” She paused and sighed. She didn't know what to say, still reeling. But then she realized there was one good thing she learned. “It was nice to hear you still wanted me to visit. I was already looking up things to do in Copenhagen.”

“Yeah? Find anything good” he said, smile clear in his voice.

“The botanical gardens look beautiful.” She tried to remember specifics but came up blank. “Um–there was a castle.”

“Thorough research,” he teased her.

“Well you see, there’s this guy there–”

“Is there?”

“He makes really fantastic french toast.”

“Does he?” She could hear his smile and it made her blush.

“And I thought he could show me around. Be my tour guide.” 

Luca chuckled and the sound soothed her. “I’d love to.”

“We should make real plans soon,” she said, her exhaustion catching up to her as she fought off a yawn.

“I’d like that. You sound tired. And it must be late there, you should go to sleep. But– you’re wonderful, Sophie. And we should talk more soon, yeah?” His voice was warm and calming. In only a few minutes he had convinced her everything would be okay. 

She blushed. “Yeah. Thanks, Luca,” she said. She felt calmed. “Good night. Or good morning.” 

“Good night, Sophie.” 

She went to bed– decided she’d listen to Carmy’s voicemail in the morning. She wanted to end her night on a happy note.

---

“I’m sorry, Soph. 

I didn’t tell him on purpose. I thought he knew so when he started asking about Copenhagen, I brought it up. But it wasn’t my place.

And I know– I should have been looking out for you. I want to look out for you. I’m just– things are difficult with the restaurant right now. 

I feel like I’m wasting too much time with Claire. And I don’t know what I’m doing any more. 

But I shouldn’t have yelled. And I’m really sorry. 

Just-please come to the friends and family night.”

She couldn’t miss the opening of his restaurant. No matter how annoyed she was at him. She texted him that she’d be there.

---

The Bear was full of familiar faces when she arrived. She waved at Pete who was clearly waiting for Nat to return. Sophie assumed she must’ve gotten pulled into more restaurant madness. It was their first attempt at service, Sophie knew things must be intense in the kitchen.

Richie showed her, Tim, and Mallory to a table in the corner. “Nice suit,” she said to him as he pulled out her chair. He grinned at her, standing taller. He introduced himself to her sister and she could tell the two of them got on immediately.

Wine was poured, the menu was shared. Sophie decided to order the pasta dish Syd had talked about the week prior. As she looked around the restaurant, she knew they were building something incredible.

Carmen came and served their first dish, pouring their broth with steady hands. She smiled at him as he looked up. “Everything looks amazing, Carm.” She said to him, noticing his nerves. He smiled and thanked her. She could still feel the awkwardness between them, they hadn’t really talked since their fight. But she wanted him to know she supported him.

He quickly greeted Tim and Mallary, thanking them for coming. Mallary smiled at him and thanked him for the invite.   

After a few minutes, Sophie noticed Richie go into the kitchen and not come back. It looked like there was an issue with some other tables getting their food out. Only barely noticeable, the tiniest bit longer than she’d expected, but she knew the signs of stress too well. She was worried for Carmy.

"This is fantastic." Mallary gushed, eating her steak. "He really is talented," she said, looking to Sophie. “Even if he is an asshole.” 

"He is under a lot of pressure,” she countered, taking the first bite of Syd’s dish. It was perfect. The noodles were the perfect texture. The sauce was perfectly balanced. She closed her eyes, savoring the taste. She knew she needed to congratulate Syd the next time she saw her.

The night went on and Carmy never came out. Mallary kept shooting Sophie concerned glances and she didn't know how to explain what she was feeling. 

Sophie watched as Claire got up and pushed her way into the kitchen. They had finished dessert, Marcus's honey bun was amazing, and Sophie had been trying to draw out their time a little before they left to make sure things were okay.

"I feel like something is wrong," she admitted, toying with the napkin on the table. “I’m a little worried for Carmy.” She waited and sighed. “But Claire just went in, she’s probably got it covered. We should just go.”

Her sister looked at her concerned but nodded. The three stood up, getting ready to leave. Tim held out Mallary’s coat to help her slide it on. There was a crashing noise and all three watched as the kitchen doors swung open and Claire stormed out of the kitchen and met up with her friends, tears in her eyes. 

"Go back there," Mallary encouraged, looking at her sister.

Sophie bit her lip but nodded. “I’ll be right back.” 

She walked in to see Richie yelling at the freezer. She couldn’t fully process what he was saying, the banging on the freezer making her stop in shock trying to figure out what was happening.

Carmy was yelling, the sound muffled from the other side of the freezer. His pounding echoing around the nearly empty kitchen. Richie was yelling back. Sophie looked to Syd, eyes wide. “What is going on?” 

“Carmy’s locked in the freezer.” 

“Fuck-” she exhaled. She walked over to Richie, the closer she got, the more clearly she could hear Carmy’s frantic shouts through the freezer. Her heart started racing, unsure how to help– how to handle it.

Richie turned to see her walking up. He called towards the freezer, “You got another visitor, asshole. Let’s see you fuck it up with her too.” 

She heard Carmy’s muffled “What the fuck did you say?” directed at Richie.

"Richie,” she said incredulously, eyes wide at his snipe at Carmen. 

“Did you see Claire? He’s fucking everything up tonight. I’d stay the fuck away.” 

She was still angry at Carmen. Still hurt that he threw her struggles in New York in her face the last time they spoke. But she couldn’t help but defend her friend. “Richie this is a huge night and he's in the freezer! And you're yelling at him? Just go walk it off."

"Yeah, take his side,” he was clearly still heated, rolling his shoulders back and looking up at the ceiling.

She stepped closer and crossed her arms. "Walk it off, Richie.” Her voice was calm– deadly quiet. 

"Fine. Fuck. You deal with him." He stalked off.

"Fuck," she whispered to his retreating back. "Is someone coming to get him out?" She turned to Syd and Marcus who had been watching the whole exchange.

"Yeah" Syd said, walking over. "Another 30 minutes at least though."

"Okay," she acknowledged. She walked over to the freezer and placed an ear on it. Carmy had stopped yelling. 

"Carm." she said. "It’s Sophie. I’m out here. I’m gonna go send my sister home and then I’ll be right back ok?” She waited a second but didn’t hear a response. 

She walked quickly to the front of house and hugged Tim and Mallary goodbye, before rushing back to the kitchen. She slid to the floor and sat against the freezer, back to the door. “I’m back.” She called into the freezer. Syd had disappeared somewhere, service was over and it was quiet. 

"You shouldn't be here." She finally heard Carmy say to her, and she sighed in relief, glad he was at least speaking to her. She hesitated, unsure how to respond. But found herself blurting the thing on her mind. 

“You followed me into a freezer four years ago. On one of the hardest nights of my life,” she said, turning and putting her cheek against the door, palm on the floor. “I thought my whole world was falling apart.” 

She remembered that night with dread in her chest. Their head chef threw her plate of food at her, the sauce splattered across her chest, plate bruising her shoulder and crashing to the floor, her heart racing. She had rushed into the first place she could hide, the freezer. And Carmy had followed. Had held her as she fell apart in his arms. 

“But it was okay. You made sure I was okay. And I needed you to know that out there, the night was perfect. Your team pulled it off. And it fucking sucks that you missed it in here. But you still did this, Carm. It was still your day.”

He was silent for a while, and Sophie waited nervously for a response. Worried she had messed up.

“Thanks, Sophie.” 

She sighed, relieved, turning so her back was against the door again. “Of course, Carm. I’m here.” 

Eventually, someone came out and cut open the freezer door. She felt her heart breaking for Carmy as he walked out, looking exhausted and downtrodden. She stepped forward before she could stop herself and pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tightly to her chest. She pulled away after a second, as she watched Nat step forward to talk to him. Sophie smiled quickly at Nat and then at Carmy, gesturing with her thumb that she was going to head out. 

She grabbed her clutch and pulled out her phone. Quickly texting her sister saying she was headed home, that everything was fine. Then she ordered a Lyft home.

---

Luca texted as she arrived home, asking about the opening. She smiled, thankful she had someone to talk about her night with. She hit the call button as she walked into her apartment, slipping off her shoes, tension melting away as soon as she heard Luca’s voice.

“Hello love, how was your night?”

[piipaw]

[☺Gum- Unrenoun Cleric of Mystra☺]

1. [CHARACTER INFO]

OC NAME: Gum

OC PRONOUS: He/Him, They/Them

AUTHOR: @piipaw

2. [DIALOGUE]

1. Greeting message:

Hmm? Did you need something?

2. Identify yourself:

Who, me? You can call me Gum. I’m a cleric of Mystra, but it’s best if you don’t discuss it too loudly. Let’s keep that between us.

3. Tell me about your Creche:

[He looks distant, as if lost in thought] … Did you say something? 

4. I need to know how you fight::

I was once skilled with a sword, but I prefer a mace and shield when my spells can’t support my allies. Healing wounds and supporting suits me better, though I’m not sure the others appreciate when my support comes in the form of the undead.

5. Can I ask a more personal question?

Depends on how personal, but proceed.

6. What is your relationship with the divinity?

[He looks around uneasy] … I am devoted to my Goddess, Mystra. It is through her guidance I have found my true self, my freedom, even at a price. Oh, wait, did you mean Vlaakith? [a deep hurt crosses his face, a hand rising to the scar on his throat] I have no loyalties to someone who has taken so much from my8self and my kin. 

7. What do you usually do in your free time?

Read, I practically live in a library now, it’s a contrast from the humble books I plucked from the stores my creche’s raiders would bring back. It’s… comforting to be able to store them in the open, rather than hide them under the floor panels of my bunk.

8. What is your life goal?

I know my kin fight to unite us under one sky, some may even call me hshar'lak for not taking up arms in the rebellion, but I am better suited on the ground- far from the backs of dragons. So long as I live I can continue to prevent any untimely deaths, continue to provide life to the living, I can die at peace knowing I did all I could.

9. How is your relationship with your allies?

Unlikely. I never had many companions at my creche, even when I was looked upon in favor. I never saw myself to find allies and family among istikis, yet here I am with more friends than I have fingers to count. 

10. Do you have someone special in your life?

[His neutral face breaks into a soft smile]. I do,and after living so long with only the goal of survival as a reason to move forwards, he has reminded me what living can truly feel like. I am talking too much, but perhaps it cannot be helped as no one else has ever shown me love so pure.

11. Say something you would never do, and why?

I would rather die than return to my creche. The reasons for that are not of your concern. 

12. What is a perfect day to you?

A perfect day once would be any day bathed in the blood of my enemies. Now? Any day where I can relax with a nice soak, perhaps with slices of apple and cheese if I’m feeling extra luxurious.

13. How do you celebrate a victory?

Victories are best spent with good company. Be it a large affair with wine flowing, or a magical night under the stars. Perhaps after our next win I shall help prepare a feast?

14. How do you deal with defeat and losses?

Loss… [He pauses, touching the scar across his neck] I am too familiar with loss. When we lose things, things are often gained in ways we could not imagine. It is best to keep going forwards without forgetting what got us to our destinations along the way.

15. How do you think you will be remembered after death?

Who’s to say anyone will remember me after my time? I am but a star in the sky, and countless more shine hotter and burn brighter than myself. That is not to say I would not miss my friends if they were to pass before my time, and I hope they would not feel too much sadness should the roles be reversed.

3. [GRAPHICS]

(i was really fighting my program making these i really hope it saved transparent)

4. [BONUS RESOURCES]

I really adore my Tav sorry for a mini pic gallery ;w;

I sadly haven't finished coding the page on my website for Gum, but I'll include a little blurb on his backstory here!

After experiencing the preventable death of his rival, G'lyth, Gum had his faith in Vlaakith shattered. Turning to Mystra's guidance after discovering some contraband tomes brought in on a raid, Gum practiced magic and medicine in secrecy, though many had suspicions of his wavering faith- none could find such proof of his treachery to their queen. He soon secured the position of ghustil of his creche to ensure his safety- knowing it was temporary. After being abducted from his home and enduring a long journey, Gum had found a group of unlikely allies to stand by when things seemed hopeless. Along the way he discovered much about himself, his connection to the divine, and decided to settle down far from his creche. While he hates the cold climate, he will accept any chance to enjoy his new found freedom.

Thank you again, @vikintor. I don't believe we have ever spoke, but seeing you combine two of my favorite interest (Doom and the Gith), I really wanted to take a chance and submit something as well. Thank you for giving me the opportunity C:

[dearstvckyx]

Flufftober | 10.19 |

Harvest Dinner - Trevor Zegras + Friends

The golden hues of the setting sun spilled across the sky, casting a warm autumn glow over the farmhouse-style home where Trevor Zegras and his fiancée had planned the perfect harvest-themed dinner. The air was crisp, and the smell of roasted vegetables, spiced cider, and freshly baked bread wafted through the house. The large wooden dining table in the backyard was decorated with pumpkins, candles, and scattered leaves—everything about the evening screamed fall.

Trevor stood outside teasing Jack Hughes, who was trying—and failing—to carve a mini pumpkin with a butter knife. Jack’s girlfriend, sitting beside him, laughed at his futile efforts. “Jack, it’s a centerpiece, not a hockey puck!”

Nearby, Cole Caufield and his older brother Brock were debating the best football teams of the season. “I’m telling you, Michigan’s defense is rock-solid this year,” Brock insisted, while Cole playfully nudged him.

Jamie Drysdale and his older brother Charlie were huddled together with Alex Turcotte and Patrick Moynihan, brainstorming pranks to pull on Jack and Trevor later, though they kept their plans hushed. They exchanged quick glances, as if they already had a scheme brewing.

Inside the house, Trevor’s fiancée and his younger siblings, Ava and Griffin, were finishing up the last of the sides—mashed sweet potatoes, roasted Brussels sprouts, and a pear-and-goat-cheese salad. Ava, with her apron on, was carefully placing warm rolls in a basket while Griffin hovered nearby, sneaking bites of everything before it hit the table.

As everyone gathered around, the golden light from the lanterns hanging above the table bathed them all in a soft glow. There was laughter, the sound of clinking glasses, and the occasional joke thrown at whoever was unlucky enough to be the topic at the moment.

Trevor finally sat down, sliding into the seat next to his fiancée, who smiled warmly at him. “Everything looks perfect,” he said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. She smiled, grateful for the warmth of the evening and the company of their closest friends and family.

Jack, having given up on the pumpkin carving, raised his cider. “To good friends, good food, and surviving another day without one of Trevor’s pranks.”

Everyone laughed, and Cole, not one to miss out on teasing, added, “Yeah, and surviving whatever Charlie and Jamie have planned for later.”

The night continued with stories, laughter, and the warm feeling of fall wrapping around them like the thick blankets draped on the chairs. As the evening wore on and the last bites of pumpkin pie were eaten, Trevor looked around at the faces of his friends and family, and couldn’t help but feel grateful. It was one of those nights that made everything else fade away, leaving only the warmth of friendship, love, and the perfect fall night under a blanket of stars.

[invisibleraven]

sharing a blanket. snuggled up together. for Rulie plz and thank you

Julie scowled as she looked out the window- it was a rare stormy day in Los Angelos, and this ruining her plans for the day along with her mood.

She and Reggie had hoped to go for a hike today, enjoy the redwoods and a picnic, maybe find a lake to take a dip in. No phones, no other people, no obligations other than enjoying each other’s company.

Now though, they would be going nowhere. At first they had hoped the rain would peter off, but the forecast proved otherwise, continuing to bluster and pour outside as the day wore on.

“Hey, you glaring at the window won’t change the weather,” Reggie said, hugging her from behind. “Stormy enough without your grumpy face.”

“Sorry,” Julie replied, turning to kiss the underside of his jaw. “I’m just sad that our day got ruined.”

“Redwoods aren’t going anywhere,” Reggie said, swaying them together. “We can try again another day. For now, let’s go eat.”

Julie hummed, but got confused as instead of leading them to the kitchen, Reggie steered them towards the living room.

She gasped as she saw what he had done-setting up a little fort in the room, full of cushions and blankets, lit up with fairy lights, their picnic spread out on the coffee table, soft music playing from the television.

“Oh cariño…”

“I know it’s not what we envisioned,” Reggie said. “But I hope it’s okay.”

“More than,” she assured him. “Plus the benefit of no bugs biting us or foxes trying to steal our food.”

They giggled over the memory, then situated themselves amongst the blankets, gorging themselves on their feed. Grapes, cheese, finger sandwiches, and the brownies that Reggie made that always disappeared faster than everything else.

Julie leaned back against the wall of cushions after they were done, sighing as Reggie cuddled into her, tossing a blanket over them both.

“This is way better than the forest,” he hummed into her hair.

“Minus the lake and the stars,” Julie concurred.

“We have stars,” Reggie replied, gesturing up to the fairy lights twinkling around them. “And if you still wanna take a dip, we do have a rather massive tub upstairs.”

“You and your love of baths,” Julie chuckled, nuzzling their noses together. “Maybe later. Right now I’m content right where I am.”

“Me too,” Reggie replied, snuggling further into her embrace. Then he yawned, which Julie echoed.

“Another point to inside-we can nap without the fear of bears,” Julie mumbled.

“Shoot, I knew I forgot something,” Reggie joked.

“Hush you, nap now,” Julie said, letting her eyes fall closed.

Reggie watched her for a few moments, loving how the lights made her glow, the way her curls were spread out on the pillows, the soft little sound of her breathing, the steady beat of her heart under his ear.

With that melody, and the comfort of the fort surrounding them, Reggie let himself drift off, thinking he wouldn’t mind if their next hike got rained out too.

[softquietsteadylove]

We need more fake wedding/engagement AU pls ♥️

"Hey."

"Hey," Gil looked up, surprised by the soft voice and the silent steps padding into the kitchen. He pulled up his piping bag from making little rosettes of whipped potatoes. "What are you doing up?"

It had been yet another long day, and even longer than most. Ajak had required Gil to make a slew of appetizers for the engagement party she was insisting on hosting for them. He had agreed, of course, because it made sense.

Thena had expressed her worry over him slaving away in the kitchen for a party supposedly in his honour; couldn't they just get it catered? He said it was sweet, but he was happy to cook for it, and he would have plenty of time to prepare everything, so it wasn't like he would be too stressed about it.

It was only a partial lie, and it only satisfied Thena partially anyway.

She then spent all day helping Ajak plan the layout for the party in the expansive 'back yard' of the property, including their little section of beach. Ajak had the best eye for decoration, but Thena was a master planner. She had every square inch optimised and every minute accounted for while Sersi and Makkari focused on the guest list and aesthetic for the party.

They had both reconvened at the dinner table, swaying from the fatigue of the day. Thena had even excused herself earlier than normal to get some sleep.

"Are you still preparing for the party?" Thena asked, ignoring his question about why she was up. She walked closer, pulling her cardigan around herself. She wore a cardigan because it was cold but preferred the silence she could achieve with bare feet?

"I'm almost done," he smiled, piping his last few dollops of Duchess potatoes. "These just need to set, and then tomorrow I'll bake them with a butter bath and a little cheese so they can be served hot."

Thena drifted around the side of the table to him, similar to how she had hovered the day of the sandwich making--a day which neither of them had mentioned, but did it ever stick out in his mind.

He could never forget the feeling of her lips at the corner of his. Although he could also never forget the look on his mom's face when they both realised she was still in the room to witness their little moment. He had been embarrassed, sure, but Thena had all but run out of the room, barely looking at either of them for the rest of the night. She looked cute all flustered, though.

Thena watched him as he worked. "You're working awfully tirelessly for a party that should be for you."

He smiled at her, squeezing out the last bit of potato. "For us!--and besides, I don't mind."

"You keep saying that."

He couldn't help but be a little surprised. He hadn't expected her to voice a kind of defensiveness in his name. He shrugged, "I dunno, I'm used to it."

She tilted her head at him (cutely).

"I've always done stuff like this," he supplied easily as he finally set down his piping bag and looked at the three trays of apps he had finished. "Don't get me wrong, mom's a great cook, but stuff like this...I did do catering before I started at the company."

Thena also eyed his bounty, including all the dishes left from it. "Most caterers have entire teams to assist them, too."

He shrugged again, somewhat more sheepishly. "I guess, but honestly, hiring a caterer is more trouble than it's worth. At least I know what we all like, what we don't, that kind of thing. I know Sersi is allergic to buckwheat, I know Kari doesn't really like meat even if she's not totally vegetarian. I know Druig is picky with textures and I know you hate seafood."

Thena rolled her eyes at him.

He chuckled, though, picking up his tray and getting ready to load up the fridge even more. He smiled as Thena pulled the door open for him. "It's something I can do to take care of my family, y'know? Mom has done so much for us our whole lives."

And his father had done absolutely jack-shit for them.

"I wanna do whatever I can to help out," he concluded as she helped him load the last tray. The rest of the fridge was already stuffed with cheese appetizers, puff pastries to be baked, fruits that needed carving, and plenty else.

He turned and stretched with a groan. He was far from done, "I'll be up soon, don't worry. I just gotta finish these-"

"Leave them." He looked down at Thena, but she stared right back at him, arms crossed around her. "Leave the dishes for tomorrow."

He looked around the kitchen; it was pretty disastrous, and he didn't want to imagine what it would be like if his mother's kitchen weren't so massive. "The sink's totally full, not to mention the dishwasher. I can't-"

"It's not as if anyone will be using the kitchen for themselves tomorrow anyway," she shook her head, even pulling him by the hand. "They can wait until tomorrow, Gil."

"But-" he floundered, although he wasn't trying all that hard to escape the grasp of her very cold, very delicate hand. He looked down at the hand, and then at her bare feet again. "Thena, you're freezing--seriously, why aren't you in bed?"

She didn't answer him, still pulling him with her to their shared guest room.

"Were you cold?" he asked, and he had a feeling he was getting warmer (no pun intended). He tilted his head to try and get a better look at her, "is it too big? I told mom we didn't need a king sized bed."

"Just come to bed, Gilgamesh."

He grinned; she couldn't sleep without him.

He could admit just to himself that he had also gotten used to sleeping with her. After the general horror of sleeping with his best friend in a partial state of undress wore off, he had to admit, it was comfy. They fit together well, he gave off enough warmth for the both of them, and Thena would naturally wake him up by running her fingers through his hair.

Neither of them had mentioned that either, but he had a feeling she liked cuddling too.

"Fine," he conceded, yawning as he trudged up the stairs. "But I'm being a bad chef by leaving all that sitting there."

"I'm sure the code of conduct will forgive you," she drawled, finally bringing him into the room. She hadn't even closed the door behind her. She really did get up just to bring him to bed with her.

Gil sighed as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He was more tired than he thought he was.

"Get changed and lie down, Gil. Don't worry about the dishes."

Well, if she was going to tempt him with that lovely voice she had. He grumbled, hauling himself up and to the bathroom adjoining their room. Now that he was in the comfort of the familiar space, he felt how exhausted he was. Maybe she was right, he should ask for more help with stuff like this.

The dishes did get done, though. By the time he came downstairs the next morning to ask why she had gotten up so early, Thena had done every single one of them.

[gerrystamour]

for all of us who've seen the light (salute the dead and lead the fight)

Notes: So I'm doing a rewatch of Stranger Things, as I do every once in a while, and I'm well and truly trapped in Stranger Things brainrot, so please have a fanfiction from me for the first time in literally years at this point. And it's not smut?! Rated T for language mostly. I had it rated G but then I doubted it and bumped it up a level. And yes, this mostly turned into a bit of having Steve interact more with characters we don't usually see him interacting with one-on-one. It is very self-indulgent.

It was a couple weeks after Starcourt when Steve insisted on hosting a pool party.

It was partly to get everyone together one last time before the Byers and El moved away, and also just… to have a reason to all be in one place that wasn’t the end of the world. It was something he tried to do before, but no one seemed to go for it. This last narrow escape from certain death seemed to do the trick though.

Steve spent the week leading up to the party painstakingly cleaning the pool and getting the levels figured out. He hadn’t used his pool in years, and he knows his parents haven’t used it either. Obviously, he took enough care of it that it wasn’t absolutely disgusting, but it still needed a bit of work. Robin came over a lot to help, which was mostly her sitting and watching Steve work. It was nice having the company. It kept his mood up, unlike when he was left alone in his backyard.

On the day of the party, Steve went grocery shopping to get a bunch of food to throw on the grill, chips, and soda. He also grabbed several boxes of Eggos and a bunch of cans of whipped cream.

On his way back home, he picked Robin and Dustin up, and the conversation was bright and excited. Steve was in great spirits, singing out of tune to the music on the radio, getting louder and serenading Robin dramatically as she wailed for him to shut up. He didn’t even care if it made Dustin more obnoxious with his belief they were dating, because Robin was grinning bigger than she had in weeks.

Nancy arrived at Steve’s at the same time, and Mike, Lucas, Max, and Erica all poured out of her car. The kids swept through the front door and straight out the back, barely taking the time to strip down to their bathing suits before jumping in.

Steve was still organizing the chips into bowls when Jonathan arrived with Will and El. He was full of apologies for being a bit late. Steve waved him off.

“If you want to make it up to me, take these out to the dipshits,” he says, holding the bowls of chips out to Jonathan.

Sure enough, Jonathan was immediately mobbed by a bunch of soggy teenagers the moment he stepped outside with food.

“When are you coming outside?”

Steve jolts at the soft, but direct voice, and turns to find El watching him from the doorway to the kitchen. She clearly hasn’t been in the pool yet, but from what he understands, Steve isn’t sure how much she likes swimming.

“I will in a bit, I’m just getting stuff ready,” Steve reassures her, then he gives her a secretive little smirk. “I picked something up for you…”

The excited expression on her face brought a proper grin to Steve’s, and he went about making her a triple-decker Eggo and whipped cream monstrosity.

“Do you have Reese’s Pieces?” she asks quietly as she looks down at the treat with an expression that was both happy and deeply sad.

“I don’t think I do, but I have M&M’s. Is that okay?” he asks, going to the cupboard and grabbing a bag.

“It’s perfect. Thank you, Steve,” El replies, and the two of them share the treat.

When Steve finally comes outside with the hamburger patties and cheese slices, everyone hollers at him for taking so long.

“Hey, if any of you brats want to eat, you better be nice to me. I was inside making these puppies from scratch,” Steve snipes back as he sets up at the grill, ignoring the kids while they whine at him for not getting in the pool too.

“C’mon, Steve, this party was your idea and you’re not even going to swim?” one of the kids, possibly Mike, says when Steve declines putting off starting the burgers.

“There’s plenty of time for me to still swim with you nerds after we eat,” Steve dismisses the comment. “Besides, I’m having plenty of fun.”

And it was true, he was, even if he hadn’t done any of the playing. He just liked having a house full of people, laughter in his backyard, people for him to feed and tend to. He just liked seeing all the kids in one spot where they were just allowed to be kids. That was enough for Steve.

At some point, Max joins Steve at the grill. She doesn’t say much, only kind of hovering near Steve’s elbow and watching the others play.

“Hey, while you’re standing here, can you help me out?” he asks, fully prepared for Max to scoff and go back to the others now that he’s actually addressed her.

But instead she just shrugs and steps closer. “Sure,” she replies.

Steve would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried about Max the most after everything that went down. He could see her struggling with it in the quiet moments between laughter and jokes, and he hoped the kids kept an eye on her. He would do what he could too.

“I’m going to flip the patties now. Once I flip them, can you put a slice of cheese on half of them for me?” he instructs, and she nods and picks up the plate with the slices of cheese laid out.

Once they were done with that and waiting for them to be done, Steve noticed Max hadn’t actually been in the pool.

“Don’t you want to swim?” he asks, again prepared for her to scoff and ignore him.

“I don’t like to swim with my hair down, and my mom wasn’t around to help me braid it properly,” she replies immediately, shrugging.

“Maybe Nancy…?” Steve suggests and Max shakes her head.

“I already asked her. She can’t do it tight enough,” Max answers, and Steve lets out a heavy sigh, looking heavenward.

“After we eat, I’ll braid your hair. How about that?” he offers, and at Max’s deadpan stare he rolls his eyes. “What? Is it really so weird that I would know how to braid hair?”

“Uh, yeah?” Max snorts, and she was starting to smile a bit. “Why would you know how to braid hair?”

“Hey, I know a lot about hair, just in general. They didn’t call me Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington for nothing,” he says with an air of dramatic sincerity, and it gets the giggle he was aiming for. Then he nudges her with his elbow. “It’s funny that Nancy can’t do it right, because it was actually Mrs. Wheeler who taught me.”

“When?” Max asks and holds up the plate that used to have the cheese on it when Steve starts removing the burgers from the grill.

“I was at Nancy’s and I was watching Mrs. Wheeler braiding Holly’s hair while we watched TV after eating. I guess I looked interested in learning, so she taught me,” Steve answers as they carry the burgers to the picnic table.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Max huffs another laugh.

About forty-five minutes later, Max was feeling the French-braid Steve did in her hair and she’s reluctantly impressed. When she immediately does a cannonball into the pool, Steve lets himself feel that moment of victory.

“Are you going to swim now, Steve?” Will calls out to him, and Steve glances at the kid.

The lighting changed now, the sun gradually moving closer to sunset, and Steve looked around. Seeing all the dishes out on the picnic table and how they were already attracting bugs, Steve shakes his head. “I need to clean up the dishes first,” he says, and the kids all groan.

“Okay, mom,” Mike groans with a smirk that only gets bigger when the rest of the party laughs, including Nancy, Jonathan, and Robin (that traitor).

“Shut up, all of you are having plenty of fun without me,” Steve gripes teasingly as he collects the plates and carries them inside.

He takes his time cleaning up the dishes, just basking in the sounds of delighted screams and laughter from the backyard. But the sun was getting lower, and he started to feel fidgety. They would be getting out of the pool soon, so Steve goes to the living room to set up for maybe a movie or two before everyone went home.

By the time he steps back outside, the sun is dangerously low, and his chest feels weird. “Okay, how about we go inside, dry off, and watch a movie?” he suggests and everyone starts whining.

“C’mon Steve, we’re still having fun out here!”

“You didn’t even swim!”

“It’s not even dark out yet!”

Steve just cocks a hip and puts his hands on his waist. “It will be dark soon, so that’s a moot point,” he says sternly. “I know I worded it like a suggestion, but what I meant was it’s time to get out of the pool, dry off, and watch a movie.”

Mike makes a weird noise that Steve is fairly certain was meant to be a laugh. “We were joking when we called you mom earlier, you know that right?” he said and Steve opened his mouth to snap back when the lights in the pool flickered to life.

They were on a timer, which Steve had meant to turn off.

But the flash of the lights coming on, right under the kids he was looking at, had him flinching back a bit. He was looking at the kids, but what he was seeing was a brief glance out his bedroom window, someone sitting at the end of the diving board, back-lit by the lights in the pool. Hunched shoulders, an injured hand cradled in a lap, bare feet swishing in the water.

Steve’s shoulders tensed, his eyes stung, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He braves a glance at Nancy, who was just sitting on the edge of the pool with Jonathan and Robin, and she was staring back at him.

“I mean it, shitheads. Out of the pool. I don’t fucking want anyone in here when it’s dark,” he says in a rush, trying to keep his tone even, trying not to yell. Nancy’s expression changes just a bit, but it’s enough for Steve to know she gets it.

“Steve, c’mon—”

“Mike, enough,” Nancy says, and she stands up, offering Jonathan and Robin a hand up. “We’ve been outside all day already. Watching a few movies sounds fun.”

“Wow, Nancy, way to be a killjoy, too.” This time it’s Dustin’s voice, and something in Steve snaps the rest of the way.

“I said get the fuck out of the pool!” Steve yells, like properly yells in a way he never has at the kids. He immediately regrets his outburst when all of the kids flinch and stare at him wide-eyed. Steve’s own heart was racing, and his airway felt painfully tight.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve yelled. Please get out of the pool,” he says much quieter, gentler, pinching the bridge of his nose and screwing his eyes shut. “The living room is set up for a movie night. Pick whatever you want, I won’t complain, I’ll be right back.”

With that, Steve turns on his heel and hurries back inside and up the stairs to his room.  Once he was there, he knew it was the wrong choice. If he stepped too close to the window, he’d see the pool lit up, people in the pool. His ears are ringing and his vision starts going fuzzy around the edges, black spots moving inward. He needed to get out of his room.

Steve spins around to leave and crashes right into Nancy.

The impact is hard, and should have sent them both spilling into the hallway, but Nancy is deceptively strong for how tiny she is compared to him. She catches him, arms around his middle, and he knows she’s saying something but her voice is muffled and sounds so far away. He drops his face onto her shoulder, and when he blinks, he finds himself sitting on the floor in the hallway.

He’s confused when he realizes that he’s leaning against someone, and that someone has their hand in his hair. It only takes a minute to process what was happening. Nancy was sitting on the floor, leaned back against the wall opposite his room, and Steve was slouched in the V of her legs. She was petting him, which was nice, and he allowed the moment to linger.

It was soft, and gentle, and so genuinely caring that tears spring to Steve’s eyes.

“Did I pass out?” he asks groggily, and the hand in his hair stopped for a second.

“Yeah. You were hyperventilating,” Nancy replies, and resumes the soothing motions. Her voice seemed a bit shaky and weird, but Steve wasn’t sure how much of that was just him recovering from a panic attack.

“I must be crushing you,” Steve says, and now that the softness was wearing off, embarrassment started to flood in.

“I’m fine, Steve,” Nancy insists, and when he goes to sit up, her other arm wraps around his chest firmly. “I said I’m fine, Steve.”

Steve huffs and relaxes back into her, chewing his lip. He tenses when he hears someone coming up the stairs, but when it’s just Robin, he smiles up at her.

“Hey, Dingus,” she breathes, dropping to her knees next to them to hold his hand. He hadn’t even realized he reached out for her. Then to Nancy, she says, “Jonathan got the gremlins in the living room, they’re picking a movie.”

The last of the tension left Steve’s body in a whoosh. No one was in the pool, everyone was inside, everyone was safe. Nancy makes a bit of a grunting noise and shifts Steve’s weight a bit before sighing.

“Seriously, Nance, I can move,” Steve insists again, and he can feel Nancy shake her head.

“I said I was fine,” she repeats firmly.

“How long was I out?” he asks, though he can tell it wasn’t long. He can hear the raised voices of an impassioned debate about movies coming from downstairs, as well as popcorn being made in the microwave.

“Only a minute,” Nancy replies. “Had enough time to get us sitting before you did.”

Steve sighs and nods, squeezing Robin’s hand and leaning into Nancy’s hand in his hair. Robin shifts so she’s sitting next to Nancy, which makes holding her hand more comfortable.

“When was the last time you used your pool, Steve?” Nancy asks quietly, and he grimaces.

“Nance, it’s fine—”

“Can you please just answer the question?” she insists, and Steve huffs. He could never deny Nancy anything, it would seem.

“Since the party,” he admits, and he squeezes Robin’s hand for strength, rubbing his thumb along hers.

“Why did you offer to have a pool party if it was going to be a problem?” Nancy asks next and Steve laughs.

“Honestly, Nance, I didn’t know,” he admits and she makes a disbelieving noise. He tries to sit up, but Nancy holds him back again. “Seriously, Nance, let me up, I want to look at your face when I’m talking.”

There’s a long pause, before Nancy sighs. “If you get up you have to promise to not deflect by trying to take care of me,” she says, and Steve frowns, confused.

“Okay?” he agrees tentatively. When her arm doesn’t budge, he adds, “Okay, I promise.”

When she lets him up, he lets go of Robin’s hand and shifts so he’s against the wall next to his bedroom door. When he looks at Nancy, he’s met with red-rimmed eyes, tears, and her biting her bottom lip to keep it from quivering too much.

“Nance, hey, it’s okay,” he immediately says, and moves to pull Nancy into his arms, and Robin actually puts her hand up to stop him.

“Steve, you promised,” she reminds him, and Steve frowns, sitting back against the wall. With a huff, he grabs one of Nancy’s ankles to put her foot in his lap, and he starts to massage her calf. If he wasn’t allowed to hold her because he made a dumb promise before he knew she was crying, he would do at least that much.

“Fine. Okay, I had this pool party because I didn’t know it was going to be a problem, and it wasn’t until your shithead kid brother started arguing with me,” he says, and Nancy just shakes her head.

“Steve, you avoided being even next to the pool all day. We barely actually saw you outside. You only came out to use the grill and eat, and even then… it was obviously a problem the whole time,” she says, wiping her tears.

“You were also really grouchy sometimes when you were cleaning it. Leading up the party, I mean,” Robin adds quietly.

“I honestly didn’t… know it was a problem for me,” Steve insists quietly, shifting his hands to massage Nancy’s foot now. “I never had to address it, I guess.”

“So, you haven’t known you were upset about Barb for what, two years?” Nancy asks and Steve frowns and shakes his head.

“No, I—I knew I was avoiding the whole pool, and I know I avoided being in my backyard at night, and honestly I never have the pool lights turn on because I can see them from my bedroom window at night—” Steve stops abruptly as the image of Barb on the diving board from his bedroom window flashed before his eyes, and his eyes start to sting again.

“What, Steve?” Nancy pushes, sniffling a bit.

“It—that night, I saw her by the pool. Just for a second from my window. She was just sitting there on the diving board, and I thought about stopping. But I’m a douchebag, obviously, so I didn’t,” Steve says quietly, and it’s the first time he’s said it out loud, even to himself. “I thought about making sure she got home safe, or offering her my guest room. It would’ve taken two minutes to go down and ask her to come inside, but I didn’t.”

“Steve,” Nancy whispers, her face screwing up as more tears fell down her face.

“I wanted to believe so badly that she was actually fine when you couldn’t find her the next day because I couldn’t—Nance, it felt like my fault she disappeared, because I saw her that night,” he continues, dropping his head back against the wall. “And yeah, I latched onto the story that she ran away when it was first brought up. And I know, that meant I was blowing you off and being a complete asshole.”

“You should’ve told me,” Nancy insists, and Steve laughs.

“Nancy, it’s taken three serious head injuries to get me to this point of emotional vol-vulnability?” he stumbles out.

“Vulnerability,” Nancy and Robin supply at the same time, and he laughs and points. It was one of those words he had seen written before, but never said it out loud.

“That’s the word. You couldn’t’ve paid me enough to talk about this back then,” he adds, then sighs. “Then finding out about the Demogorgon just… every night I would see the pool from my window, and I would see Barb sitting there. And then I was having these nightmares about her being taken, from the angle of my window, like I stood there and watched the whole time.”

“I had nightmares, too,” Nancy says, and Steve nods.

“I know, and I wanted to be there for you about them, but the ones about Barb, I just—my guilt about her was so big, I didn’t have enough room for yours, y’know?” he admits, grimacing. “Which sounds fucking awful, honestly, and you were right at the party—”

“Steve, no, don’t. I know exactly what you mean, about the guilt being too big. I shouldn’t have said what I did at the party like that,” she insists, and now she was crawling across the hall to sit next to him, leaning heavily against his shoulder. “We were kids, Steve, and I was being unfair to you.”

“I was being unfair to you, too. I didn’t get why you couldn’t just… put that night in a box like I was trying to, and I kept trying to make you,” Steve says, sighing. “It’s why I fought going to dinner with the Hollands so much. Knowing she was dead and knowing it was my fault… the nightmares were always worse after dinner with the Hollands.”

“It was my fault, too,” Nancy whispers. “She tried to stop me from going upstairs with you, and I told her to just go home—”

“Okay, this is really sweet that you’re both bonding over this, but can I just say something real quick?”

They both jolt and look at Robin, and Nancy opens her mouth to say something, but Steve beats her to it. “Yeah, Robs, go ahead.”

“You both were assholes to Barb that night, there is no denying that, okay?” Robin says, crossing her legs and leaning forward with her elbows on her knees.

“Gee, thanks, Robin,” Steve snorts, but he is genuinely grateful with how honest Robin is with him.

“You’re welcome, Dingus,” she replies cheerily, before turning serious. “You both could have done something different that night, definitely, but have you considered that maybe, just maybe, that doesn’t actually make her being killed by an interdimensional monster that was let loose and being actively covered up by a shady government entity your fault?”

When she puts it like that, it makes Steve feel very silly about his whole issue, almost embarrassed.

“It’s not that simple, Robin,” Nancy says, and her tone is short in a way that makes Steve a bit defensive of Robin.

“No, I definitely know. Survivor’s guilt is a lot, and I get it. Believe me, I get it, and I’m not even saying that you should come to terms with it right this second, or tonight, or even next week. Just,” Robin pauses with a shrug. “It just seems like you guys have been going in these guilty circles for a year and a half without even considering the alternative. Even you, Nancy, and you’re the one who actually brought Hawkins Lab down.”

“You told her?” Nancy snaps at Steve, though there was no heat to her words.

“Hell yeah, I told her. I told her literally everything, Nance. Especially about how much of a badass you are,” he says proudly, smiling down at her.

“You talk about your ex to your girlfriend?” Nancy says with an eye-roll.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Steve says exasperated.

“Yeah, strictly platonic,” Robin adds, gagging.

Nancy rolls her eyes, clearly not believing them, and says, “Whatever. I still wish I knew you felt this way. I wouldn’t have… I don’t know.”

“You wouldn’t have dumped me?” Steve asks, and he’s curious. He was well and truly over Nancy, had been for months, but he was curious if being open about his pain would’ve been enough to keep her.

“Maybe? Probably not, though. I would have done it nicer and less drunk,” Nancy replies, and Steve laughs out loud.

“I think the way you did it was for the best, in the long run. Henderson would’ve been eaten by D’art if you didn’t dump me like you did,” he admits, and Nancy pulls back to look up at him.

“What do you mean?” she asks, and Steve realizes he never actually told her exactly how he got involved with the kids.

“Oh, I went to your house to apologize and Henderson was looking for Mike. You weren’t there, obviously, because you were bringing down Hawkins Lab, and neither was Mike,” Steve replies with a shrug. “And Henderson kidnapped me on account of my baseball bat with the nails.”

“That’s actually my bat,” Nancy says, bumping her shoulder into Steve’s.

“I think it’s technically Mike’s even if he never actually touched it,” Steve teases and Nancy giggles at that. He likes seeing her smile, and he’s glad he’s able to be the reason for her to smile again.

“Nance, I want you to know that even with how I kinda freaked out here, I still had fun today. I had a blast, actually, even if I seemed tense,” he says after a bit, and Nancy sniffles and nods.

“Okay, I believe you,” she says quietly, and he can see it in her face that she meant it.

“Why don’t we go downstairs and see which stupid movie the dipshits chose,” Steve suggests and Nancy and Robin both laugh.

“You promised them you wouldn’t complain,” Robin reminds him as she stands and offers him a hand up.

“Of course I did,” he grouses as he pulls Nancy to her feet as well. He startles when she wraps her arms around him tightly, but he immediately has his arms around her shoulders, resting his cheek on top of her head.

“I am sorry, Steve. For saying you didn’t care,” she says, her voice muffled against his chest.

“I was doing a pretty good job acting like I didn’t, Nance,” he reassures her and waits until she was pulling away from the embrace. “Seriously, though, let’s go downstairs.”

“Okay, I just need to use the bathroom first,” Nancy says, wiping her face and Steve nods before he and Robin go down to the living room to join the rest of the party. When Nancy joined them twenty minutes later, she had come in through the patio door off the living room. “Forgot my cardigan outside,” she explains at the puzzled looks thrown her way.

Later, after everyone except Robin had left, Steve was about to head up to bed when he cursed quietly.

“What, what’s wrong?” Robin asks from halfway up the stairs, rubbing her eyes tiredly. She was spending the night like she usually did after movie nights, which they both know did nothing to help against everyone’s assumptions that they were dating.

“The lights in the pool. I didn’t turn them off,” he says quietly, dreading the thought of going out there in the actual darkness to deal with it. But he wouldn’t be able to sleep if any amount of that pale, white light came in around the edges of his blinds.

“I’ll go with you, okay? Or I could do it?” Robin offers, coming down the stairs and grabbing Steve’s hand.

“No, I’ll do it, but please come with?” Steve says, taking a deep breath.

When they reach the patio door, they’re both confused to see complete darkness in the backyard. The lights were already off somehow.

“Nancy,” Robin says suddenly, eyebrows high. “When she went outside for her cardigan. She turned off the lights.”

Steve blinks out at the darkness, his eyes wet with emotion, and he nods, smiling. “She must’ve.”

“Kinda sad you two didn’t work out,” Robin says a bit awkwardly as she tugs Steve away from the patio door and back to the stairs.

Steve just chuckles and shakes his head a bit. “I think we’ve worked out just fine,” he says, and for the most part he actually believes it.

[ Also on AO3 ]

[willshipanything-blog]

Breaking the Rules- Chapter 6

Let's ignore the fact that I said this would be here in a day or two....five days ago 🙃 And just enjoy the content! There's magic and mayhem and all sorts of cute things today! 🪄🎩🃏

As always, minors PLEASE DNI! Full tags on AO3

Read on AO3 here

Full Chapter Index here

Chapter 6- For One Night Only

You brooded over that morning’s walk as you prepared lunch, having a few moments of solitude as Max occupied the bathroom. He needed to wash the mud and grime off both him and the dog after their mishap in the woods (purposeful on Samson’s part, accidental on Max’s). The walk had brought you closer to Max, and you were confident you would no longer feel that uncomfortable twitch of hesitance to spend time with him. He was easy to be around, funny and charismatic. You considered him a friend, and hoped he reciprocated those feelings- you felt that Max, as much as yourself, needed a friend his life. 

However, you still wanted to know more about Max’s past (and by proxy, Al’s too), though you were still unsure if your little recon mission had been successful or not. You had recalled some nostalgic, happy memories for Max, although not everything you had discussed was so pleasant. Those topics of conversation were only to be debated in small doses, you decided to yourself as you loaded the sandwiches with ham, bologna and cheese. Talking about Max and Al’s father? That was a wound you weren’t going to pick at for a little while. 

The snippets of information you’d learned from Al about the Shaws’ history had come to you at a glacial pace. True, this was because you were beyond scared in the beginning that a wrong foot or a misplaced question might touch a nerve, which the Grabber might make you pay for in blood. But even after everything, when Al was just Al, he was still so reticent. Unwilling- or maybe unable- to share too much with you about his past. But Max had opened a dialogue without too much effort (and, you hoped, not too much pain). As sad as he'd seemed on the walk, what you’d uncovered in a few hours had been miraculous. 

Hearing the bathroom door click open, you dipped your head out the kitchen doorway to announce lunch was ready, only to be met by the sight of Max’s bare ass, uncovered by the small towel he had unsuccessfully wrapped around himself. 

“Ma-ax! Jesus- there are ladies in this house you know!” you spluttered, throwing a hand up to cover the side of your face, protecting your eyes from the sight. 

“Oh, there are? You shoulda said you had company over.” He hollered back to you across the room. You scoffed and turned back into the kitchen, the image burned forever into your memory now. You busied yourself feeding Samson, who had wandered into the kitchen after his bath, then waited for Max before eating, contemplating whether you should prod a little more today- but Max seemed carefree and affable as ever, so you convinced yourself a few more questions wouldn’t hurt. 

However, even though the younger Shaw was more unguarded, things would have to move slowly on your part, and you’d be careful to tread lightly. Whereas Al wore that icy, gruff exterior that hid a softness beneath- one you had chipped away at to find the real man below- Max seemed the opposite. As if his soft, unassuming surface belied a darkness, a hardness within, like a cuddly teddy bear filled with razor blades. You had to be careful to extract the less savory parts of his history without him ripping at the seams and falling apart completely. Still, you were hopeful that getting Max to open up even more wouldn’t be the months and months of work it had taken with Al. 

Max wandered into the kitchen (fully dressed now, thankfully) and gave a guilty chuckle, along with a small apology about mixing up the towels meant for him and Samson. He tucked into the food enthusiastically, and things slipped back into that warm comfortability that formed so easily from his presence. 

“So, spill. I want to know everything.” you said, a broad smile crawling its way onto your face. Max looked agape, pausing with his sandwich halfway to his mouth.

“Everything? About? Wait, what are we talking about?” Max stammered, his eyes bobbing frantically, suddenly panicked. Was it not obvious you were asking about Al? If not, what else would Max have to be worried about?

“Woah, calm down! I just want to know more about Al.” Max visibly relaxed, the tension is his shoulders dropping as he huffed out a breath. 

“Oh, those juicy details. Well, that depends what you wanna know, Scout-” he paused, leaving the sentence to hover between you. You leaned forward across the table, all ears. You wanted to know everything. Was Max giving that to you already? He took a slow bite of his sandwich, savoring it purposefully to prolong the anticipation he could sense in you. But you knew the quickest way to a man’s heart.

“Well, I heard pork chops were your favorite, and there just so happens to be some in the refrigerator…”

“Oh, Scout, now you’re speaking my language. Ok, shoot. Ask me anything you want.”

Not wanting to disturb the relative calm, you decided to ask about Al’s childhood- the good parts that Max would know so well, having grown up alongside him. Parts that Al was reluctant to discuss- he was deeply uncomfortable speaking about himself in any way but through self-deprecation, and despite your best efforts to encourage him otherwise, only his actions towards you spoke of the kindnesses he was capable of. And despite the distance that had been between Max and Al, there was no animosity between them. Al must have been a great big brother. The natural assumption that they were close when they were younger proved to be correct when you questioned Max about it over the breakfast table.

“Oh sure, we were always pretty close, even with what- six, nearly seven years’ age difference?” 

That surprised you- you had thought there was about a decade between them- but Al’s stoic, serious expression probably aged him in the photo of them both, just as Max’s small stature and dimpled cheeks worked in the opposite way. 

“We were so different, even then. He wasn’t real tough, but he always looked out for me, ya know? At school, in town, and here,” he waved his hand loosely in the air, his meaning clear. Al looked out for Max in this very house, too. A small but obvious silence descended at the implication of that, but Max continued, wafting away the moment of discomfort with his sunny demeanor. “I was the opposite, a bit of a class clown- if you can believe it.”

“You do surprise me, Max.” you drawled sarcastically. Max’s words had reflected exactly what you saw in the old photograph of them- a solemn, serious older brother and his cheeky, happy younger sibling. That could have still been the case now, years later- with Max’s easygoing, cheerful disposition at odds with Al’s outwardly cold, distant attitude. But you’d changed that course for Al. He could still be standoffish (and you knew the darkness he was easily capable of), but you coaxed out the lighter traits in him too- the Al who was playful, kind. The one who was, at heart, a hopeless romantic. You pressed further, remembering that Al had once hinted that he’d learned magic just for Max.

“That’s right, I remember he picked it up to cheer me up! Oh, it was awesome- I never could work out how he did those little tricks. He was always so serious, but for me? Jesus, he’d put on this cape and do these amazing things with cards and coins. You know, the whole shebang- Ok Maxie, pick a card, any card.” Max’s chocolate eyes were alight with excitement, his arms flailing wildly playing out the past scene. “Man, he was the best. Mom loved watching the shows too when it was just us in the house-” 

You didn’t respond, but gave a small, reassuring smile. You’d worked out the subtle meaning- that Al’s performances were a private affair, something clearly not approved of by their father. That same sullen silence shrouded you, a cold shadow at the mention of that man. Had it been Al, the mood might have sombered for the rest of the afternoon, but Max had an uncanny knack for blowing right through the bitterness with the strength of his fierce ardor. 

“And I didn’t even tell you the best part! You know every great magician needs a stage name, right? Well, guess what Al picked for himself.”

“What was it?”

“Oh god, he might actually kill me if I tell ya, Scout.”

“No, you can’t taunt me like that! So help me Max, I’ll tell him you flashed your ass at me…”

“Oh you little… ah, goddamn. Ok, ok. He useta introduce himself as ‘The Great Alberto’.”

You sat for a brief moment in stunned silence before a wide grin tugged your lips from ear to ear. This was beyond brilliant. Memories of Al that he would have never willingly shared, not to mention the most hilarious thing you’d heard in a very long time.

“You did NOT hear that from me.” Max said, the weak threat in his voice failing to hide the realization of what he’d let loose. 

“Oh Max,” you jested, “Where else would I have heard it?”

“Fuck.”

Whether you or Max might get into trouble for unveiling that fantastically embarrassing nickname, you figured it’d be worth it to see Al’s reaction. If backed into a corner, you could blame Max completely, but you were going to ensure you got a ticket to the next performance.  ________

After dinner that night (you supposed Max had earned those pork chops after all), you all settled down in the living room. Max lounged on the armchair, whilst you lay on the sofa with your feet propped on Al’s willing lap, his fingers absentmindedly stroking your skin. When Al asked if there was anything anyone wanted to watch (obviously meaning on the television), you and Max exchanged knowing glances across the room, your closed-lip smirks and raised eyebrows daring the other to make the suggestion. Al’s gaze veered between each of you, confusion evident on his face, aware that he was missing out on the joke. Max set up the line for you to knock it down:

“I thought we could see a show tonight,” he quipped.

“Yeah,” you volleyed, looking at Max but cognizant of those cerulean eyes drilling into you. “I heard that the Great Alberto was in town…”

Rough fingertips dug into your shins, a pregnant pause deafening the room. Al huffed a slow exhale before throwing out a warning. 

“You two should know,” he said menacingly, “That neither of you are too old to go over my knee.” Max guffawed at that, though your own laughter was a little more hesitant, if only because for you, Al’s threat was likely to come true. Not that you didn’t really want it to, but you worried to what degree Max might see your blush at such a comment. Undeterred, you still poked at Al, prodding at him with your toes, giving his leg a playful kick and telling him how much Max had missed his big brother’s magic tricks. Max’s nagging helped the persuasion and with a gruff sigh, Al finally conceded. You wanted a performance, and he rarely denied his sweet dove anything she wished, after all. He jostled your legs off of him, and with a request to bring him his blue set of playing cards, you scurried to the bedroom to rifle through his box of tricks. You could have sworn you heard Max actually squeal as you scuttled down the hallway.

In the bedroom, you placed a chair in front of the open closet and reached for the large plastic box containing Al’s magic equipment. You glanced beside the box only briefly, taking a quick peep at the masks that resided there. It was funny, you mused at the sight of the magic box and the masks- how different parts of Al were stored here, little compartmentalized pieces of his soul. He could retrieve the box of tricks and easily show that goofy, talented, magical side of himself. Or he could don those masks and signal the commencement of one of your many-faceted games, his wild, animalistic side coming out to play. Or he could leave those things behind for a while and just be Al. Whichever permutation he chose, you couldn’t envisage the Grabber there anymore. 

Pulling down the hefty box and placing it on the corner of the bed, you riffled through the paraphernalia: silk handkerchiefs, a wand, felt flowers, metal rings, cups and balls, rope, thumbs caps, dice, a velvet bag of different coins and half a dozen sets of playing cards. You plucked out the deck of blue-embossed cards, reaching for one other object before turning on your heel and back towards the much-anticipated magic act. 

Re-entering the living room, Max had relocated to the couch, and the armchair now sat on the opposite side of the coffee table from it. Al had risen and was standing in front of the TV, waiting for his props. He could huff and deflect all he liked, but he obviously relished the chance to perform, and had set his stage for the act. You held the deck of cards out towards Al and as he reached for them, you produced the black top hat from behind your back, holding it out to him by the rim, coaxing him to wear it. After all, what was a magician without his hat? He scoffed and shook his head, but still he took it from your outstretched hand. 

With a deft flick of his wrist, he flipped the hat in his hands. It was much like how he’d maneuvered it when you first met him- except this time, it somersaulted its way atop your head instead. This time, he hadn’t asked for you to pass it to him; you’d retrieved it willingly, held it out so he could perform his role, and then enjoyed the feeling of wearing part of the disguise. Like you were part of the trick, part of the illusion yourself now. Al gave his lopsided Cheshire Cat grin, and gestured theatrically for you to sit beside Max, which you acquiesced. Max scooted up to make room, playfully knocking the hat so it sat askew on your head. Al cleared his throat, and you and Max turned your attention to the magician, all eyes focused on him. Even Samson, who had been snoring in the corner, seemed to raise his head out of curiosity. 

“Ok folks, here for you tonight,” Al spoke in that grandiose, sing-song tone, “and here for one. Night. Only,” he punctuated those words, a gentle reminder that he wasn’t going to be coerced into doing this again, “The Great Alberto!”

You cheered enthusiastically, whilst Max put his fingers into his mouth to make a piercing whistle, Samson’s barking at the noise easily mistaken for his own canine version of applause. Al gave a quick bow before sitting across from you both, shuffling the cards expertly between his dexterous hands, a kaleidoscope of blue and white spiraling hypnotically in front of you.

“Maxie, would ya lend me a hand?” Al asked as he began the trick, his younger brother selecting a card from the filigree-embossed deck that Al fanned out for him. You noticed a name that both of them had mentioned that day: Maxie. The younger Shaw had used it to mimic Al, an impression of him doing similar tricks for his brother when they were younger. Did tonight somehow transport him back to that time, performing his little tricks to cheer up his brother? The way you watched them together now, maybe both of them had journeyed back, to a time when that old black and white picture might have been taken. 

Max watched with glee as the 5 of spades he plucked from the deck was seemingly placed between his closed palms. With some dramatic flourishes and a few waves of his hand, Al ‘replaced’ the hidden card with the Jack of Diamonds he had hovered over the closed hands. Max peeled his hands apart, and the Jack had magicked its way there. 

“Holy fuckin’ shit! No way!!” Max’s eyes widened as he looked incredulously at the swapped card in his open hand, flipping it to see if his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. 

You gave a small whoop and a round of applause as the trick was complete. Although you’d learned the mechanics of this particular sleight of hand (fetching Al the blue set of cards you knew housed two diamond-encrusted Jacks), it was still an impressive feat of close-up magic. You were strangely proud that Al had mastered the trick, but more proud with why he had begun to learn magic in the first place, a fizzing warmth spreading across your chest at the sight of the two brothers smiling at one another. The warmth didn’t dissipate when Max begged to know how it was done, Al refused, and the inevitable sibling bickering broke out between them.  ________

The bedroom felt peaceful compared to the living room that had been so lively and vibrant that evening, which was both a blessing and a curse. The possibility of how the night might go always depended on Al- not that you were fearful at all. Not anymore. But it was a heady feeling of not knowing which way it could go. Option 1- the serenity and gentleness of his sweet touches and kind words, or Option 2- the thrilling danger of him toying with you. You clicked on the lamps, suffusing the room with a soft, low light. As you began putting away Al’s hat and cards, sorting out the box you’d shuffled through before, the door behind you clicked and his warm body pressed against your back. Strong arms encircled your waist, clasping in front of you as his cheek pressed against your own. 

“The Great Alberto? Really?” The words were soft as cotton candy, but the semantics of his question meant an uncertainty for which way this could go. You adored either of the outcomes, so slipped into the repartee without fear of consequence. 

“You know Max let that slip.” 

“And who charmed that out of him I wonder?” his grip tightened around your stomach, not giving you time to come up with an excuse which was, at this stage, a moot point. He’d already made up his mind on how the night was going- clearly Option 2. Secretly, you were thrilled: if Al chose to be wicked and merciless, the comfort would still follow. It was the best of both worlds. Although, it didn’t seem much of a secret: the way the gasp so easily slipped from your lips and your body moved into Al’s instinctively whenever his firm grasp on your restricted tightly. He knew Option 2 was your preferred choice, too. 

“You wouldn’t be prying now, would you dove?” he asked, retreating his head a little so the warm hush of his voice grazed your ear. The question dripped with danger. You supposed you had spent such a long time thinking about what details you could coax from Max, you hadn’t really considered how Al might feel about it all- perhaps because you knew, deep down, that he wouldn’t approve. If he wanted you to know, he’d have told you himself. You’d pondered his question too long, unsure of an answer, and had only half-noticed his arms had unclasped. One remained glued around your torso, finding its way intuitively to the bruise on your hip, recently blossomed into a brilliant watercolor of purples and greens. His other hand had risen to fist your hair in his grip. 

“Well?” he yanked down, your head pulling back, your own eyes looking up into quickly darkening blue ones. 

“N-no. We just talked.” you squeaked.

“Hmm, you have no idea how dangerous that can be, little dove,” he let go of your hair from his firm hold, resting his chin on your left shoulder as his now-free hand reached towards the box still in front of you on the bed. You watched intently, your rapidly increasing heart rate drawing out fast, shallow breaths beside Al, who rummaged through the box languorously, as if leisurely taking stock of its contents. His hand brushed over what he was obviously looking for, grabbing a small silk square by its corner and pulling slowly, a string of four or five squares, knotted together at the corners, forming one consecutive chain. 

“I think that’s enough talking for tonight. Don’t you?” And with that, before you could hope to come up with any witty retort, he balled the silk scarves into your mouth, muffling your gasped inhale and any protests that might have dared cross your lips. Al didn’t need to warn you to keep the gag in, so you clenched your teeth around the silk, silently watching as his hand dipped into the box again.  

The rope was next, pulled from the box with purposeful slowness. It was the same type of cord that Al had used months ago in another magic trick, the very first time he had taken your body, made you feel things you never thought possible. Simply holding it in front of you, the rope recalling that memory, had you rubbing your thighs together in arousal. It was the same for Al too; you could feel his hard manhood pressed into your back as he conjured items from the box. With his arms still cocooning your body, he brought your wrists together and quickly tied the rope tightly around them. He tugged at his handiwork once done. He had no need to test the strength of the knots (he knew you couldn’t escape, and you knew you didn’t want to), but it was a continued reminder of the hold he had on you.

Al worked his magic quickly, and in an instant had slid the box from the bed, slipped your shorts and panties from your body, and shifted you to face him, the back of your legs pressed against the bed. Wordlessly, he stroked the scar on your heart, a gentle caress, before roughly pushing into your chest, your body falling backwards and your throat letting out a stifled squeal before you fell onto the soft mattress. Al undressed slowly, his belt unbuckling, his shirt unbuttoning, until there was no more clothing to remove. With each item he discarded to the side, you could swear his eyes turned a shade darker, little notches that signaled the approach of the dark side of Al that wanted to devour you completely. He crawled onto the bed in front of you, and you squirmed backwards as best you could, knowing he wanted the chase, and needing it just as badly. You were easy pickings, already tied down for him, and huge hands took hold of your ankles, pulling you towards the beast. Your hand gripped the headboard slats and you shrieked behind the gag, half mock-terror, half genuine excitement. 

He entered you in one wet thrust, right to the hilt. “Ah, fuck, Y/N!” he groaned, a little too loudly for the Quiet Game he had wanted to adopt. You sprung up, pressing the fingertips of your bound hands to his lips, silently reminding him of the need to stay at least a little quiet while the house was accommodating more than just the two of you. He laughed behind your fingers, giving a small nod of understanding, before hauling your arms back above your head, where he held them firm. His other hand slithered beneath your silk top, his thumb brushing a rock-hard nipple before kneading your breast roughly. The breathy exhale that left your nose might have been just as loud as Al’s groan, but fuck it felt divine, the way he could make your body tremble with just a few simple touches. 

The act picked up pace rapidly, every sensation an electrifying spark of perfection at Al’s skillful touch; his fingers that moved seamlessly between your breasts, hands that knew every place that responded best to his touch. Him propping each of your legs on his shoulders, finding a deeper angle to enter you. The way his hands gripped your hips roughly, one moving down to thumb your clit in rough circles as his cock drove into your core again and again, picking up speed until you could hardly bear it, slowing to allow you to catch your breath behind the stifling gag, before speeding again to overwhelm you completely, moaning your pleasure in faint, muffled groans as you came for him. And for him, you rocked your hips in time to each beat of his movements, digging your heels into his strong shoulders to signal your pleasure, knowing how your moans affected him, and never once during the act breaking your gaze from his. 

He jutted into you a couple more times, releasing the last of himself inside you, but not yet pulling out. Instead, he brought his face down to yours. In your gradual come down, your breaths had been steadying, but those piercing blue eyes still made your heart thump furiously, as if trying to signal to Al just how much he affected it. His gaze descended from your eyes down to your mouth and he smiled wickedly, teeth bared as he moved towards your lips. You readied for the kiss, but instead, Al’s teeth clamped around part of a silk square, and he pulled away slowly, unspooling the colorful scarf from your mouth in a ribbon of blue then pink then green then orange. As he retreated, his fleshy manhood left you too, and a groan escaped you finally- both a sign of satisfaction but also a lament of the loss of his warmth deep inside you. He spat out the scarf from between his teeth. 

“I think I like this no talking rule.” he growled. 

“So stop talking.” you retorted finally, heaving your still-bound hands around the back of his neck and crashing your lips into his, shutting the pair of you up in the best way possible. More kisses followed, wet mouths and tongues lapping against the other, and finally languid kisses on noses, along jawbones, no part of either of your faces left unmarked by the tenderness. Your mouth trailed the wrinkles at his temples, his brushed against your precious cheekbone scar. Eventually you freed Al from your grasp before he freed you from your bonds, though the two of you stayed entwined as you fell asleep together, a blissful tangle of body parts that slotted together perfectly, bound tightly together with something much stronger than rope. ________

You jolted awake, a sudden sound shaking you from peaceful sleep. A strange sensation crawled over your skin, and you realized the foreign feeling was having nothing touching you- no hand caressing your waist, no fingers trailing your spine or arm wrapped tightly around your body. But a soft rumble behind you revealed Al was still in bed, and you turned slowly towards the noise. It must have been this that woke you- this unfamiliar scene laid out before you. The bright moon allowed a faint picture to form: Al was dreaming. Not just a dream, it appeared. A nightmare. His open mouth displayed almost a grimace as if pained, matched by his eyebrows that twitched in syncopated beats to his eyes which you could discern were oscillating furiously behind closed lids. 

“No - don’t - hurt - no - was me” The disjointed words barely formed on his lips, but the half-meaning you could work out from the dreamspeak vexed you. A nightmare, right now? You wondered- you’d had your fair share of terrors since arriving here, understandably so. But those types of dreams had been expected: dark, staticy images of abstract creatures, eldritch, ungodly terrors that filtered through your mind like a grainy horrorshow played on an old projector reel. But that had been so long ago- so long, that you had still conflated Al and the Grabber, thinking them one and the same. But that was no longer the case, and those awful night terrors no longer plagued you. Not now you had the comfort of Al to ease any worries and fears. 

So why now had Al begun to suffer a similar ailment? You hoped it was simply the stress of worrying about his brother’s arrival, even though things had started off on such great terms. What was he worried might spill out? You had continued the Quiet Game tonight, though you wondered if Al’s questions about prying into his past were actually more malignant than the playful way he had posed them. 

It hurt to think that your actions had, in turn, hurt Al, even if only in his dreams. You placed a hand on his chest, soft and light as a feather, stroking tenderly and shushing softly into his ear. You repeated this procedure, over his whimpers and spasms, until they dissolved, muted and stilled by your nurturing gestures. 

Al woke early with the sun, the background chirps of larks and the view of the mountains and sky to greet him, the dawn sky a blithe canvas of apricot and peach. He ruminated over the past couple days, and was fairly satisfied with how things had progressed. Just as he’d predicted, Y/N and Max were getting along. Max could be an inconvenience at times, under his feet a little, but he was harmless- and Al could hardly say the same about himself. 

He looked forward to having the house to just the two of them once more, though he wanted Max near, and truly hoped his little brother would stay for good this time, putting down roots here in Denver. The one problem with this, of course, was that the closer Max was- especially with Y/N- the closer more things might threaten to surface. Some of Al’s past had already come to light. Yes, it had been silly childhood secrets, but he had kept things from her for a reason. He wanted no more of her pity, no sorrowful looks or excuses for the things he’d done. He hoped his playful warnings last night had been understood as extending outside the bedroom too. 

But it was ok, wasn’t it? The fear and unease was only in his head now. Faded and quiet, but constant, like a television playing pixelated white noise. He supposed that quiet hum in the back of his mind was the thing now haunting his sleeping hours. A manifestation of the guilt and regret at the things he’d done to her, and slowly, the creeping guilt of those worse sins that had begun to plague him more and more. He had no way of ridding himself of those feelings, and the nightmares had retreated eventually, chased away by the soothing coos of his dove- it was always her, wasn’t it? 

Her voice was warm in his ear, her fingers running through his hair, over his heart. Whether Al had dreamt it, or whether real life had seeped into his dreamstate, she had banished the nightmares and conjured new dreams of her, and he had slept soundly the rest of the night. 

Al looked away from the window to focus on his very favorite view- his love sleeping soundly beside him. Gentle not to wake her, he brushed the mess of tangled hair from her eyes, and allowed himself these free moments to simply observe before the reality of the alarm clock would wake her. Al felt content, and hoped he could hold onto that precious feeling indefinitely. 

[dangerous-disposition]

for all of us who've seen the light (salute the dead and lead the fight)

Rating: Teen & Up Relationship(s): Steve Harrington & Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley Other Tags: PTSD, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Bit of a self-indulgent fic. No ships, just vibes (for now while I work on filth). Includes some interactions between Steve and characters I want to see more of in fics bc ultimately I wrote this for me and me alone plus anyone else who enjoys this ur welcome.

~

It was a couple weeks after Starcourt when Steve insisted on hosting a pool party.

It was partly to get everyone together one last time before the Byers and El moved away, and also just… to have a reason to all be in one place that wasn’t the end of the world. It was something he tried to do before, but no one seemed to go for it. This last narrow escape from certain death seemed to do the trick though.

Steve spent the week leading up to the party painstakingly cleaning the pool and getting the levels figured out. He hadn’t used his pool in years, and he knows his parents haven’t used it either. Obviously, he took enough care of it that it wasn’t absolutely disgusting, but it still needed a bit of work. Robin came over a lot to help, which was mostly her sitting and watching Steve work. It was nice having the company. It kept his mood up, unlike when he was left alone in his backyard.

On the day of the party, Steve went grocery shopping to get a bunch of food to throw on the grill, chips, and soda. He also grabbed several boxes of Eggos and a bunch of cans of whipped cream.

On his way back home, he picked Robin and Dustin up, and the conversation was bright and excited. Steve was in great spirits, singing out of tune to the music on the radio, getting louder and serenading Robin dramatically as she wailed for him to shut up. He didn’t even care if it made Dustin more obnoxious with his belief they were dating, because Robin was grinning bigger than she had in weeks.

Nancy arrived at Steve’s at the same time, and Mike, Lucas, Max, and Erica all poured out of her car. The kids swept through the front door and straight out the back, barely taking the time to strip down to their bathing suits before jumping in.

Steve was still organizing the chips into bowls when Jonathan arrived with Will and El. He was full of apologies for being a bit late. Steve waved him off.

“If you want to make it up to me, take these out to the dipshits,” he says, holding the bowls of chips out to Jonathan.

Sure enough, Jonathan was immediately mobbed by a bunch of soggy teenagers the moment he stepped outside with food.

“When are you coming outside?”

Steve jolts at the soft, but direct voice, and turns to find El watching him from the doorway to the kitchen. She clearly hasn’t been in the pool yet, but from what he understands, Steve isn’t sure how much she likes swimming.

“I will in a bit, I’m just getting stuff ready,” Steve reassures her, then he gives her a secretive little smirk. “I picked something up for you…”

The excited expression on her face brought a proper grin to Steve’s, and he went about making her a triple-decker Eggo and whipped cream monstrosity.

“Do you have Reese’s Pieces?” she asks quietly as she looks down at the treat with an expression that was both happy and deeply sad.

“I don’t think I do, but I have M&M’s. Is that okay?” he asks, going to the cupboard and grabbing a bag.

“It’s perfect. Thank you, Steve,” El replies, and the two of them share the treat.

When Steve finally comes outside with the hamburger patties and cheese slices, everyone hollers at him for taking so long.

“Hey, if any of you brats want to eat, you better be nice to me. I was inside making these puppies from scratch,” Steve snipes back as he sets up at the grill, ignoring the kids while they whine at him for not getting in the pool too.

“C’mon, Steve, this party was your idea and you’re not even going to swim?” one of the kids, possibly Mike, says when Steve declines putting off starting the burgers.

“There’s plenty of time for me to still swim with you nerds after we eat,” Steve dismisses the comment. “Besides, I’m having plenty of fun.”

And it was true, he was, even if he hadn’t done any of the playing. He just liked having a house full of people, laughter in his backyard, people for him to feed and tend to. He just liked seeing all the kids in one spot where they were just allowed to be kids. That was enough for Steve.

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[wonderfulworldofmaeth]

My Name? Oh, it's Van...

Van Cruz

Full name: Vance (Van) Manuel Cruz

Age: 28 years old

Birthday: November 13th

Sexual orientation: Demisexual (Male Leaning)

Pronouns: He/They

Familiar: Jali, the tabby cat

Personality:

Likes: Learning new things by reading, cloudy days, waking up in time to see everyone's morning commute, his eggs over easy and still runny, going to work early so he can come home earlier, freshly ironed clothes, going on coffee runs for his family or workplace, bagels and sweets, lazy afternoons with a good book, slow folkloric music to relax to, buffet restaurants, when the circus comes to town, playing baseball in the park, the dentist, provaleta, rollerskating, organizing documents, doing his friends' taxes, dressing up for Halloween, children, birdwatching, taking walks on the forest trails, painting his nails, playing billiards with his friends, jewelry, playing guitar, shopping in Maeth's retail district, the color purple, helping Marcos in the garage even if he doesn't know anything about automobiles, going to the cinema theater, picnics by Lover's Lake, bow ties, being a guest to parties and gatherings, waiting in line if he's with his friends, visiting the bakery to talk to the owners, long journeys, buying cute and useless bobbles at the antique store.

Dislikes: Hot days, working outdoors in the heat, arrogant or brash men, working long days with no breaks, when people get him expensive gifts he feels like he doesn't deserve, not having fresh produce in the house, having laundry to do on a rainy day, letting his home repairs pile up, neckties that are too long or too short, having too strict of a schedule, wearing suspenders, hosting things at his house, talking about his father or family in general, killing bugs, mowing his grass because it makes his nose runny, the color black, spending a long time in the bath because he gets wrinkly.

Abilities: Van has picked up a few trades here and there and has picked up the reputation of a "do it yourself" type of man. Back in Villa Noche, he's done his fair share of handiwork for pipes, roofs, fences, wagons, and all sorts of other things. He's had to work hard for all his book smarts, but he's incredibly intelligent and dedicated to learning. He becomes a library assistant in Maeth to further his knowledge. He's good at baseball, the most popular sport in Villa Noche. He can cook and bake okay, nothing exceptional. He really likes studying animals, specifically birds.

Favourite food: Ham & cheese empanadas. Provoleta

Favourite drink: Black coffee and Modelos

Favourite flower: The blooms of the Jacaranda tree

Appearance:

Height: 6'0 or 183 cm.

Weight: 140 lbs or 63 kg

Hair: Van has dusty brown hair, thick and silky. It's pretty easy to comb through and almost never tangles. He used to keep it short growing up, but since his decision to leave Villa Noche, he has been growing it long. It's to his shoulders now. He often keeps it back in a ribbon or a satin scrunchy. He likes to experiment with different hairstyles, but most of the time he likes a simple ponytail or his hair down by his shoulders. He has quite a few grey hairs that he's gathered over the years from stress, but now he's just convinced he's greying early. He hopes he doesn't bald too soon.

Eyes: Van has big, deep-set eyes, much like a squirrel. They're chocolate, just light enough to differentiate the iris from the pupil. They glow like maple syrup in the sun. He's got a distinct pair of long, dark lashes, and the skin around his eyes wrinkles when he smiles.

General description: Van is a soft-spoken and empathetic young man. He has a passion for learning both skills and learning about others. He has a host of bad habits he's been trying to unlearn, often struggling with interpersonal relationships between friends who aren't like-minded to him. He's polite and gentle, and he loves to keep in the company of others. Van is very generous and it shows in his everyday life. He is an excellent employee and a caring friend as he will go to great lengths to do more than what is asked of him for people he feels like deserve it.

Van is tall and lanky, sometimes incredibly awkward. He's grown to be more comfortable with himself but still has an awkward walk and a small stammer that stems from his low self-confidence. Van has long skinny legs and thin arms. For a man of many trades, he has quite delicate hands and he likes to keep his nails short. Van has a host of freckles all over his body, lightly washed over his face, but a more intense brown all over his back and arms. Van has thick brows and easily grows a beard, however, he likes to keep it shaved completely or, at the most, keeps a small mustache and stubble.

Van has a large aquiline nose with a distinct bump which is naturally the most distinguishing part of his face. Van's face is defined by high cheekbones and a naturally contoured jaw. His chin is pointed, and he does have a small cleft in the middle. Van has dimples when he smiles, making for a soft, more friendly appearance. Overall, Van is very handsome and his combination of features is quite unique.

Fashion sense: Van isn't overly particular about clothes. He's used to living in a very cold, mountainous region so he's used to dressing warmly. However, once he moves to the more central part of Maeth, he experiments with different styles since the weather is more temperate and isn't as limiting. For the most part, Van enjoys a denim pair of jeans, loose or tight fighting, with a long-sleeved shirt or a sweater of some type. He likes to layer, but always ends up rolling his sleeves to his elbows. He really loves an oversized cardigan. Van usually sports leather or vinyl boots on a daily basis. Sometimes for a more casual look, Van likes cork sandals. Van comes to find that he likes sneakers and is impressed with Central Maeth's wide variety of shoe stores and shoe styles.

A brief look into his life:

Occupation: During his years in Villa Noche, a small village in mountainous Souther Maeth, Van was a sheep and livestock herder like his father. He'd go around doing odd jobs for extra cash since he barely saw any take home from his and his father's work. Upon moving to Central Maeth, Van saw an opportunity for learning and decided to apply as one of the library assistants. He wasn't particularly well-versed in books, but he brought to the table an eagerness and willingness to learn and help others. He often goes to Maeth's primary school library to read to the children there or bring them books they might not otherwise have access to. He likes to pop in at the petting zoo from time to time.

Love interest:

Marcos

Family and friends:

Valerio Cruz, father

Rosalie Rivera, mother

Ignacio Rivera, stepfather

Penelope Rivera, sister

Oliver Rivera, half brother

Petra Moretti, former love interest and best friend in Villa Noche

Nina Yanez and Marnie Ursil, close friends in Villa Noche

Lalo Hernandez, estranged friend in Villa Noche

Fausto Guerra, rival in Villa Noche

Linda Firraldi, former teacher

Marcos, love interest and partner

Thomas, Cole, Matías, and Emilio, his best friends.

Victor Esperanza, mentor at the Maethisse College of Literary Arts

Miscellaneous facts:

Despite an unathletic appearance, Van is really good at baseball and swimming. He is also very good at riding horses and has learned to do so from a very young age

Van is very good with children and animals and both tend to like and trust him easily

Van has many great ideas but often doesn't share them

Van doesn't anger easily, so when you've made him angry you know you've gone too far

Van isn't typically one to forgive and can easily hold a grudge, despite his soft nature

In Villa Noche, Van started participating in bull running and bull riding to fit in since the dangerous sport was considered 'cool' amongst all the young men there. He got to be quite good at it, much to the annoyance of his peers

Most of Van's friends have been girls, which is the main contributor to his empathetic and kind nature

When younger, Van found other boys intimidating and difficult to get along with. He can count on one hand how many close male friends he's had in his life.

Van kept his sexuality private for a very long time, and upon arriving in Central Maeth, he feels relief in not having to hide anymore

Van isn't afraid to explore cosmetic enhancements and body modifications and has often expressed a desire for a nose job or fillers

Van likes piercings on himself and others, but he's yet to get anything beyond a nose ring and double ear piercings.

Although Van appreciates having feminine qualities, he often still opts for a mostly masculine appearance and prefers that in his partners

Story:

Vance Manuel Cruz was born to his mother and father in the small mountain village known as Villa Noche. Quite secluded from the rest of the country, the village of less than one hundred had to be quite sustainable on its own. Because of that, most of the townspeople had practical professions and lived humble lives. Van's father was a sheep herder and a keeper of livestock, while his mother was a seamstress. From a young age, Van had been trained in his father's line of work. He took to it easily enough, not to say it was something he preferred. He did, however, enjoy working with the animals. He was never any good at slaughtering them.

Van had a good relationship with his mother, who often tried to hide the abusive nature of her marriage from her only son. Her husband, and Van's father, Valerio, was a very traditional man. In this sense, he worked long hours and prioritized his duties outside of the home. His wife's responsibilities amounted to taking care of the home, their child and also working long hours. Valerio didn't allow Rosalie many freedoms and she was often unhappy. Their fights would sometimes come to blows when Van wasn't around. The most prominent disagreement between them was that Valerio wanted more children, and Rosalie did not. Life was hard enough already. They didn't have much money, time or means. Having another child would be impossible.

When Van was four or five years old, Rosalie discovered she was pregnant again, this time with a daughter. She kept it a secret from her husband. Not being able to stomach the uncertain future they would both have in Villa Noche, Rosalie gathered what little possessions belonging to her and planned quietly to move away. Although she desperately wanted to take Van with her, Rosalie knew her limitations. There was nobody to help her travel north, and it would be harder with Van with her. It would also give Valerio more cause to run after her. Ultimately she had to convince herself that Van would be okay here in Villa Noche, and she disappeared in the middle of the night, never to return.

After Rosalie's disappearance, Valerio became incorrigible. He was always angry, speaking about how ungrateful Rosalie was. For Van this was difficult. He didn't know who to believe. His father and the preconceived notions of the townspeople, or whatever information he'd gathered about his parents' relationship managed to slip between the cracks.

The more his father spoke ill of her, the more Van began hating his mother.

Van soon took the role of his own mother, taking care of their home as well as himself and his father. He began learning how to cook meals and keep everything clean, doing laundry and maintenance. He took up his mother's place in more ways than one. Van had a very busy schedule between helping his father with the livestock and all of the house chores. He hardly had any time to play, as a child should do.

Valerio seemed to have nobody left to push around, so he set his sights on Van. He was very critical of him, complaining when things weren't done up to his standard. He would lament about not having Rosalie around and that Van was a lousy replacement. Van was often the butt of jokes his father would make at his expense, discussing how he'd make a much better daughter than a son. This bothered Van a lot, but it bothered him more once he began discovering things about himself.

Due to Villa Noche's small population and the value placed on practical work, there wasn't much in the way of formal education. Because of this, Van didn't attend school for very long. There was one schoolhouse in the village that the children could attend. Not very many did because they were helping their families with the labor-intensive work required at home. Between his duties at home, Van attended school as much as he could, much to the disapproval of his father. Here, he learned to read at a basic level and was taught basic mathematics.

The schoolhouse was shut down as the school teacher, who had become a safe and trusted adult to Van, was moving away. Her name was Linda Firraldi. She was a widow and had no means to provide for herself here. The teaching she was doing went unpaid. Many of the children were saddened by this news and donated money to her so that she could afford to leave. Some of the parents were upset by this news, while others were in support of Linda. Since Villa Noche did not have a formal government, not much could be done to accommodate her. Linda didn't want to be a pity case either. So it was decided. Van was so upset that his teacher was leaving, realizing he'd be without a friend and without a safe place to hide from his responsibilities.

All through Van's late adolescence, he struggled to make friends. All of his time was spent at his house or at work. One day, when Van was about eleven years old, he got a knock on his door. He looked through the window to discover it was a girl about his age. Hurrying to open it so his father wouldn't, Van was face to face with one of his former peers from the schoolhouse.

Petra Moretti.

They hadn't been well acquainted then, but Van distinctly remembered her long dark hair and her delicate features. He thought she was so beautiful and well-spoken. Her mother had been friends with Rosalie.

"Hey... hey Petra."

"Hi, Vance. Is your dad home?"

Van quickly nodded. Petra held a small piece of paper in her hands.

"Yeah... he is. Why, did you need him for something?"

Petra shook her head. Handing the piece of paper to Van.

"No... I actually came to see you. I'll make it quick, but my mom and I are holding school lessons at our house. I was hoping maybe you'd come."

Van looked down at the paper, then back at Petra. This was the first time he felt like one of his peers actually cared for him.

"Yeah... yeah I'll try to make it if I can..."

Van was already hesitant as he didn't have any school supplies or anything left from his time at the schoolhouse. He was also afraid that his father would find out. He'd been so relieved when Van stopped attending school, so he definitely intended on keeping this a secret. Petra knew the look on his face.

"Don't worry about the books or anything. We have everything you need."

Van wanted to count all the freckles on her face. He couldn't do it because he didn't know enough numbers.

"Thank you, Petra..."

Before she turned to leave, a cold gust of wind blew her hair back. Her cheeks were red. It made Van's stomach warm.

"Anytime. And Van?"

"Yeah?"

"He doesn't have to find out."

Van looked at that piece of paper all night. It had a list of times that they would meet, written in Petra's neat handwriting. The subjects were on a rotating schedule, so everyone would learn a little bit of everything at some point. There was even a class on Saturday. Van had never been more excited.

So in secret, Van started to attend school at Petra's house. Her father, Gino was one of the village's farmers. He was well respected in Villa Noche and spent long hours at their patch of land some miles out of the village. Petra's young mother, Julietta, made jams and preserves that she sold at the market. She was also a midwife and had helped deliver many of the children that attended her house for school, including Van.

He learned a great many things there and began friendships with some other kids. He got a hunger for knowledge and a taste for learning. In his early teens, Van spent a lot of time at Petra's house. He learned how to make jam with Julietta and he and Petra would spend all afternoon reading and learning together. They would make lists of things they wanted to learn about. Petra would ask her father to see some of the traveling merchants and request books on the subjects. Gino would come with books from all over Maeth for Petra and Van to share. It was the beginning of a beautiful relationship. Van was even able to confide in her about his suffering relationship with his father. He felt like she was able to understand.

In his time learning there, Van met a few other boys his age. He'd refrained from befriending boys in the past, because of conflicting feelings he's had toward them. Despite this, one boy named Lalo Hernandez managed to win him over. Lalo was the son of a metal worker and a seamstress. He was kind, but rowdy with a crooked smile and a lazy eye. He adopted Van into his group of friends. Van thought it felt good to be accepted. His father spoke less ill of him when he discovered he had some friends that would be a masculine influence. The group would often play baseball in the field, travel the forest together, and share stories over their father's alcohol. They would provoke and fearlessly hop atop the bulls of the village to feel danger and impress the girls. Van loved the security that group provided him, but he couldn't help but feel he was an imposter.

Friendship with Lalo and his buddies felt like a double-edged sword. Van was often teased because he wasn't like them. Lanky and awkward, he often felt out of place next to his muscular, confident counterparts. They teased him when he refused the advances of girls and didn't participate in their locker room talk. They joked that Van was only their friend so that he could see them bathe naked. Lalo assured Van it was all just childish jokes. Van wasn't sure that they were, but for years he stayed. Finally accepted by his father, the feeling of belonging coerced him to stay close to the same people he couldn't fully relate to. They liked Van well enough, but Van had again found himself a house with no home.

Van grew older, into a young man. He kept with his studies at Petra's house and with his work herding his family's sheep. He kept with Lalo his group of village misfits through all their ups and downs. Van found his friendship with Petra to be the type of friendship he preferred. It was gentle, nurturing, and intimate. As Petra began to discover herself, their friendship crossed over into something more. She was a beautiful young woman, but Van discovered that wasn't why he was infatuated with her. He loved how he could let his walls come down around her. He loved how they could touch each other and feel safe. Petra was never threatened by Van, nor Van by her. Their physical relationship came long after their strong emotional connection and it was one of discovery.

Van couldn't help but feel drawn to his friends. He explained what he felt to Petra after long contemplation. He explained how Lalo, with his swagger and his ruggedness, made him feel things. Things he was ashamed of but told her anyway. Petra listened.

"Would you be happier with someone like that? With Lalo?"

Van shook his head, quickly putting himself in that situation. He didn't like what he imagined.

"Oh no... I can't have a conversation with any of them about anything important, Petra... I feel like it's so hard to connect to them like I connect with you. I don't want to be with someone like that... I just think he's..."

"Beautiful. Your body thinks he's beautiful, doesn't it? And it feels things when you see him."

Van nods. He was so surprised by her insight.

"How'd you know?"

She shrugs.

"Because that's the feeling I'm missing. Mama said I was supposed to feel things in my body when I look at a boy... Nina too. But I don't. Not what they speak about."

Van rubs his chin.

"What do you feel when you look at me?"

Petra smiles. The kind of smile that reminds Van what real love is.

"The same thing you feel."

It was safety, understanding, companionship, love, and all these other words they already knew.

By the time he was seventeen, Van could consider himself Petra's boyfriend. They spent most of their time together beyond their work, and Van often stayed over at her family's house.

Petra was so happy with Van. The pair had decided to keep their love private for a long time, and Van was okay with that. He actually preferred it. As much as he wanted to prove himself to his father and his friends, he realized that wasn't what he wanted. That was what his surroundings conditioned him to want. His desire to protect Petra and her virtue was far greater.

As they approached the common age of marriage, tensions reached an unbearable point within his group of friends over his relationship with Petra. She was well sought after by the boys of the village because of her beauty and poise. She received endless advances and pursuits from the young men in town, but to all of them, she refused. They despised how close Van was to her, calling it a waste.

"You don't even like girls, Vance. You could at least let one of us put her to good use."

This was the statement that angered him the most. As if Petra's womanhood had anything to do with why he loved her.

Van had always known he didn't see women as toys or things or objects. What he had only recently discovered is that not everyone felt the same. He was beginning to realize why his mother had left his father. He feared finding out the things she'd endured that made her think her only option was disappearing into the night without him.

The friends were beginning to fall apart and they would often bicker over Petra's affections. They would relentlessly harass Van about her most intimate details, but he would never provide so much as a clue. Just the thought that Van had to shield her from their prying eyes was enough to justify his relationship with her. He would be with her. They would never be.

One of their group, Fausto Guerra, was particularly vile. He was the son of the tavern master. Van had never liked Fausto. Fausto was his foil, his antichrist. He was the most braggadocious person he'd ever met. He was haughty, arrogant, and self-important. He expected others to serve him, and his mouth demanded respect before his hands warranted it. His crass opinions of women and his love for alcohol rubbed Van's skin raw with contempt. His greed was insatiable and he had boasted of deflowering many girls in the village. Van doubted the consensuality of his claims. In many ways, Fausto reminded Van of his father. He hated that.

Fausto loved to proclaim that one day he would 'conquer' Petra and make her his wife. Van would die before that would ever happen.

Fausto would buy Petra all the most elaborate gifts in an effort to get her to agree to marry him. Petra would always politely refuse them, as her mind was made up.

"Why doesn't he ever listen Vance?"

Van spared her from the disgusting things that entered his mind from Fausto's lips.

"Because men don't know how to listen."

Her laugh lifted like a feather in the wind.

"You do."

"Yeah, well sure Petra... but I'm different."

"Sure you are... and that's why I love you."

Petra looked out the four-pane window, a book in her lap. Her hair was to her waist now. Vance would brush it often and put it in a ribbon for her.

"It's laughable to think Fausto expects me to consider him at all. I would never marry a man like him."

Van lays on her bed with his arm above his head. His eyes couldn't choose between Petra's elegant form and the orrery hanging from her ceiling. He had a small, teasing smile.

"Why ever not, Petra?"

Her playful scoff made Van warm inside.

"Because I have bigger plans for my life than to be the wench of an insufferable tyrant."

Van chuckled.

"That we do, Petra. That we do."

This wasn't the end of Fausto's advances. When Petra was at the tavern with their friends Nina and Marnie, Fausto tried again. Her answer would always be no. She just feared what this exchange would bring. She knew men often became dangerous when humiliated.

Van had heard the whole commotion from outside the tavern. He'd finished up his work for the day. The sheep were sheared and in the northern pasture. He'd made plans to join Petra and their friends at the tavern for a drink, then walk Petra home. He hadn't known what Fausto had planned on doing. The way things went, he assumed nobody had. When Van arrived a crowd had gathered around the door.

He heard yelling. He heard a glass break. He heard Petra's angry yell.

"I said no, Fausto! No! Doesn't a woman's word mean anything to you? You ask, ask, ask, but it does not mean you will receive. I say no and you do not listen. What kind of marriage would that make for me? Answer me that!"

Van could hear the tears in her voice. He shoved through the crowd and had seen Petra wrapped around herself. Nina and Marnie were in a wall between her and her aggressor. Fausto was red in the face. He grabbed her drink and threw it on the stone floor, glass scattering across the floor like shrill mice.

"Why won't you just give in, huh? I've done everything a man could possibly do. You're so ungrateful. You'll see, Petra! You'll die a spinster. You wouldn't know a good man if one fell into your bed."

Van saw Petra, his poetic and poised Petra, falling apart at the seams. He saw her cowering behind her friends. He saw her dainty hands shake as she held them close to her chest. He saw that the silver button on the cuff of her blouse was gone, the threads slithering out like snakes. Van pictured Fausto reaching out to hurt her. This sent Van into a rage.

"Get out of here, Fausto."

Van parted the crowd like a sea, taking a few steps in front of Marnie and Nina. Even though Van towered over the brute, he couldn't tip the scale at half his weight. Fausto glowered at him, broken glass crunching under his boots.

"And what are you going to do?"

Van clenched his fist. For the first time, he did not know fear. All he felt was anger.

"What do you think?"

"I think you're a bitch, Vance Cruz. You always have been. A bitch like Petra knows how to pick 'em."

Van didn't remember anything after that.

There were flying fists and blood and teeth.

Fausto's father had to pull Van away from Fausto. By then there was blood on the floor, his face, and splattered all over his shirt. Some had gathered to watch, and some had fled. Van didn't feel pain. He felt satisfaction. He didn't hear Mr. Guerra yelling at him to leave. He just heard the ringing in his ears. He didn't see the surprise on the faces around him. He just saw him with his eyes swollen shut, barely recognizable on the ground. Anyone else wouldn't have been able to tell if that was Fausto Guerra or not. This made Van happy.

He reached out for Petra. She went into his arms like it was the only safe place in the world. Van didn't regain his sentience until all four of them had made headway to Petra's house in Marnie's mage light.

After they'd made it out of earshot of the tavern, Petra burst into tears. It broke Van's heart. He'd never seen her so upset, violated, and vulnerable. They supported her along the beaten path to her house on the hill. She'd cried so much she'd exhausted herself, and Van had to carry her. When they got back, Nina and Marnie helped her wash up. Van did the same, helping himself to one of Gino's shirts. He was out of town trading with another village to the east. He wouldn't miss it. When Van had finished, they all went to Petra's room, surrounding her with love and support as she fell asleep in Van's grasp.

"So what happened?" Van asked quietly.

Marnie could feel the anger melting off him in waves. In all the years she'd known Van, she didn't think he was capable of such raw, unchanneled fury. He'd always been so gentle to them.

They sat on the bed together, Marnie's calming magic seeping into Petra's skin.

"Fausto walked into the tavern with a grand gesture. He had flowers and gifts for Petra. We all looked at each other not knowing what to do. He came over to us and sat down next to Petra... He tried to hug and kiss her. Petra had pushed him away."

"We didn't know where he got that idea from," Nina said. "Petra has never wanted to share space with him, let alone touch him. Everyone knows Petra doesn't like being touched by just anyone. Everyone knows she doesn't like Fausto."

Van shakes his head and seethes. The look of worry on his friends' faces told him everything they didn't say with their words.

"And nobody tried to help you..." he mumbled. He wasn't surprised. There weren't many people brave enough to stand up to that tyrant Fausto. Not even the grown men of the village. Van hated that.

"No... we tried to ask him to leave before Petra get any more upset. I'm afraid he didn't take that well," Marnie continued in her soft voice. "He tried to calm her down with sweet talk and fake apologies. He was too dense to see it wasn't working. He ordered her another drink to get on her good side."

Van looked down at Petra, fast asleep in his arms. She only had good sides, but they were for people who were good to her.

"He grabbed her hand and tried to put the ring on her finger saying his much he fancied her... He'd torn the sleeve of her blouse when she tried to rip her hand away from him."

Nina scowled.

"After that, Fausto went berserk. He shoved all the empty glasses onto the floor and banged on the counter, raising his voice at Petra. She told him bravely to leave her alone, but he wasn't listening. We were scared, but we stood up to that pig. We told him to scram or we'd use our magic to blast him out of that shit hole..."

Nina wiped her face, trying not to let the tears escape. Marnie held her hand.

"And that's when you arrived."

Van placed a soft kiss on Petra's head, covering her shoulders with her quilt.

"I'm glad I arrived in enough time... and I'm sorry you three were alone."

Marnie smiled softly. "It's not your fault, Van."

Nina was chewing her finger. Van knew something was eating at her.

"What is it, Nina?"

"He's just... so horrible Van." She looked at Marnie and back to Van.

"She... told us not to tell you. But Fausto has been sending Petra letters."

"What kind of letters?" Van saw his vision get hazy.

Manie was the one to answer. "Very detailed letters of what he would do to her once they were married... Or even before. She hasn't felt safe and we've been staying with her every night until her parents return. She hadn't told anybody."

They told him while Petra slept in his arms. They sat there and told Van everything while the planets spun above them. Van's world seemed to stop. He was so sad for Petra. So sad that she didn't tell him. But he understood. He understood that sometimes people kept secrets because the minute you said them out loud they seemed too real for your comfort. Maybe she feared Van would do something stupid to stand up for her... and maybe she thought Van didn't stand a chance against Fausto.

Maybe.

Walking away from that fight with a bloody nose and a broken rib was the least of Van's worries. It showed how much of a man he'd grown into, despite the examples he'd been given. Van was proud of that.

Van didn't go against Penelope's wishes. He waited to see how Petra wanted things handled. Nina and Marnie had told him what happened when Gino came back. Petra told her father everything, sparing him a few details that would make her ashamed. Mr. Moretti settled things personally with Fausto. Petra had wanted to go and receive her apology. She brought her friends with her for support, and so they could get an apology as well.

Mr. Moretti brought the letters to Fausto's house, making Mrs. Guerra read them. Nina said that she'd never seen a woman so disgusted and offended. The letters made her cry. It was a hard pill for her to swallow, but she needed to see the son she raised. Marnie said she felt terrible for Mrs. Guerra. But she felt worse for Petra. She needed to see the son she and her husband raised.

Mr. Moretti told Mr. Guerra he would no longer provide his produce for his tavern and told Fausto he would kill him if he ever saw him near Petra again.

Fausto apologized to those girls, but it didn't mean as much to Petra as she had thought. Mr. Moretti asked her if she had anything to say.

"Until you raise a daughter of your own, Fausto, you won't know the violation you're capable of projecting onto a woman. And I hope you never have the chance to. I feel sorry for your future wife, and I feel sorry for your mother. I feel sorry that I ruined her perception of you, but you deserve to have your reputation ruined. Since your precious reputation is the only thing I could ruin to make you see the value of a woman's life."

And Petra had spit on him.

Van had just wished he could be there for that. Because when they told him it was all over, it didn't feel like enough.

It was a few months after that, Petra told Van she had decided to leave Villa Noche.

"We're moving to the north so I can study, Van. You should come with us."

It was a casual conversation over provoleta at the Moretti household. Van nearly spits out his drink.

Van didn't know what to make of that. He'd worked so hard to make himself belong in a place he didn't. Now the opportunity to travel abroad with the family who took him in was right here... He didn't know what he'd do.

They'd all talked about it. Gino had a few prospects for their farm lined up. The money from that should be enough to get them anywhere they needed to go. Anything else they sold would be extra cash in their pockets. Julietta was so excited, looking forward to moving to a new place and supporting her daughter's ambitions. They invited Van with open arms. He was a part of their family for more than a decade. They knew he came from a situation that he really wanted to leave. There was never a doubt in their mind that Van was going to be a part of that family for the rest of their lives.

Van felt honored. He had wanted to go. He really, really did. He wanted to go with them, with Petra, but something was telling him not to.

He'd gone home and thought it over. He talked to his friends about it casually, the ones he really trusted anyhow.

Lalo had told him it was self-sabotage, he should just move with them.

"It's a big wide world out there Vance. There are opportunities taller than the mountains."

Van wanted to believe him, but things weren't so simple. He wished to all the planets that it was.

Until this point, Van and Petra had discussed their relationship so regularly. They were best friends. They were two people who shared intimacy and felt safe when making love with one another. Petra and Van loved each other more than the world itself. They discovered many things by being together.

Petra didn't love men. Petra loved Van. Van loved women, but in the way that he wanted to be one and was envious that he wasn't. He still wasn't sure what that meant. Petra was okay with that.

Van desired men in the way Petra did not. Although he'd found this out about himself, Van knew there wasn't a single man he could fall in love with like he had fallen in love with Petra. He asked himself why. Why, why why.

Because Petra was Petra. A soft, sensitive, caring woman that opened the doors to space and time. She was the woman that changed his life.

There wasn't a man Petra could see herself in love with... because there was no man like Van.

Van understood Petra and Petra understood Van. She was the only one who had known his secrets and he was the only one who understood hers. Their lusts and confusion and their skeletons in the closet that, when in each other's company, never seemed so bad.

Their bond was so strong and although they thought they were soulmates, they realized you could be soulmates in a way that belies tradition. Their relationship had become... celestial.

But on the tangible side of things, Petra wanted so much more than Van was sure he could give her. She wanted to try out a big city. She wanted to study the stars. She wanted to love women. She wanted a different life than the one she had. Van was okay with her having all of those things. He wanted her to have those things. Petra had a feeling when she asked him...

She knew Van was unsure if he was okay with uprooting with her. She saw the stars from his eyes disappear and be replaced with uncertainty.

"So you're not coming with us... are you, Vance?"

Van couldn't help the tears in his eyes.

"I don't know... What if I.. what if it's not the right thing for me?"

Petra smiled through her disappointment.

She couldn't help but think it was Van's sweet way of saying

'What if you're not the right thing for me'?

Van tried to think of something, anything to say. He had some things lined up, but he knew those words were already written in Petra's mind. She'd already read and memorized them.

And she'd forgiven him too.

"That's okay. You'll find the right thing for you, Van. I'll write to you."

"You will?"

Petra sniffled and wiped his face with her bare fingers. He was honored. She'd normally reserve her pocket kerchief for something like that. He'd miss these things about her.

"Of course, I will. I'll tell you all about my studies, and mama and papa too. Just don't move away before I do, okay? You have to promise."

Van cupped Petra's face and gave her the kiss he hoped she'd never forget.

"I promise, Petra."

"Are you going to be okay... with your father?"

Van didn't know. He didn't want to worry her. He'd grown into a man now. Whatever issues he had, he would face them head-on. He wouldn't have Petra to cry to anymore. He couldn't hide under the covers with her while his father drank himself into a stupor. He would really miss that.

"I'll be fine. Don't worry."

She nods and grabs the keys to the house from her pocket, looking over her shoulder at her father packing up their wagon.

"We sold the farm to Nina's family, but the house is yours. I told Papa that I wanted you to have it."

Van took those keys into his hands like they were sacred ambrosia.

"Petra... I don't know what- Petra... thank you."

"You're welcome, Van. I'm really going to miss you, you know."

Van took her into his arms and hugged her tight. He was going to miss her more than anything. The sobs in his throat were telling.

"We'll see each other again. When you're an astronomer discovering new stars in a capital city."

"Yeah... we will, won't we?"

"Sure, we will."

Gino's voice yelling for Petra was the calling card. Van found it so hard to let her go. They'd all said their goodbyes about thirty minutes ago when he was helping them pack up the wagon. But now it seemed real. It seemed too terrible to bear.

"I love you, Petra."

Then sunrise peeking behind the mountains cast a gorgeous ray of angelic light upon the face Van had loved. The face Van will always love. He'll remember that forever, the way his Petra looked.

"I know, Van. Don't worry."

___

It was four years after that day. Four years of living alone in Petra's old house. Four years of working in distant silence with his father. Four months of a dry spell that ruined the pastures. Four years of pining that he didn't understand over men he didn't want to love. Four years full of nights dragging your father out of one of the four bars in town. Four minutes of something with Lalo he never wanted to happen. Four long years of writing to Petra, reading how happy she was. Four long years of regret.

Van realized he did make the wrong choice. That was a realization he made hours after Petra had made her departure, but spent years trying to convince himself otherwise.

He wrote to her.

Dear Petra, I don't know how you'll take this. If it's with anger, I understand. If it's with pity, I agree. If it's with compassion, I'll be so ashamed. But I wish I came with you. The four years I've spent here were four years I'd rather have spent in a grave. I miss you. I miss being happy. I miss having meaning. I miss the strength that I had before that would've let me admit that. Petra, my muse, read the stars and tell me what to do. From, Van

When she read the letter she cried. She cried that Van hadn't found himself like she had. She was sad that he couldn't find what he wanted with her. She was sad that she was right. She was right all along that he wouldn't find himself in Villa Noche. She wrote back, tears still fresh in her eyes.

To Van, I take it with sadness. I'm sad you've lived with regret. I'm sad that you haven't been happy. I'm sad that you didn't tell me sooner. I don't need to read the stars to tell you what to do. I don't need to read them to tell you that it's not too late. You know you can come to me. You know you can always come to me and I will be here for you. But Van. You won't find yourself with me. If you didn't before, you won't now. I know that. You need to find yourself with you. Do as I did. Start today. Pick up everything you can bear to bring with you. Pack it in a bag. You're simple, I know you. All it will take is one bag. Take that bag and move away to somewhere you'd never think you'd go. It doesn't have to be grand. Make it suit you, Van. Move there and find a job you like. Maybe a job with sheep, maybe a job without them. I know how much you do like them. Find a place to learn. I know you'll be happier learning new things, just like we were. Once you've done that, write me a letter with everything you've felt over these years. Write me the truth. Let me listen. Or better yet, come visit me when those four years are just an unhappy memory that you'll tell me about in passing. I love you, Van. Go be happy. If not, you can always run back to my arms. Love, Your Petra

It took about three weeks for her letter to reach him. He cried his eyes out, reading it. But she had spoken. Petra was right. He had to go find him.

Van rose from the desk in his bedroom, the bedroom he once nearly shared with Petra. He grabbed his leather bag and began laying out clothes to put inside it. He searched the attic for a second suitcase. He'd prove Petra wrong at least once. He took a few things that belonged to her. Her small collection of hair scarves that he liked to wear sometimes and her rings that were much too small for him, but he liked to wear as necklaces. He pocketed the nail polish she'd left behind, deciding he'd be able to use it wherever he went. He applied a coat before he left.

He walked the thirty minutes to Nina's house. Knocking on the door, he felt the weight of the house keys in his hand.

Mrs. Yanez opened the door. She eyed the bag on his shoulder and the suitcase sitting behind him on the porch.

"Van? Hi honey, how are you? Going somewhere?"

Van smiled softly and tossed the keys in his hand, swinging them on his finger.

"I'm well, Mrs. Yanez. I actually am... I'm moving away. I talked it over with the Moretti's... they said to give you the keys to the house."

Needless to say, Mrs. Yanez was shocked. But she understood. She understood Villa Noche wasn't for everyone. If she was being honest, she wasn't entirely sure it was for her.

"Well, I'm sad you're leaving. I'll tell Nina you stopped by."

"That would be great, Mrs. Yanez. Thank you. Tell her I'll write."

"Of course, Van... Where are you going?"

He shrugs.

"When I figure that out, I'll let you know."

Van gives her a hug and leaves the keys with her. It was feeling real.

He went to tell his father. When Van walked into the front door, the young man found Valerio splayed out drunk in the living room. His snoring was so loud, it seemed to shake the paneled walls. Between the drunken slurs on the long walks home and the agitated mumbles when Van came to start the morning's work, Van and his father didn't speak very much. When they did it was about work. It had been a long while since Van had a decent conversation with his dad that didn't involve how many bags of wool were waiting to be washed, or where the grass was best for grazing. It had been a long while since they had a conversation at all. Van frowned, looking around his childhood home for a pen and some paper.

Going through the desk, he stumbled upon a faded picture of him and his mother. Van remembered those big, clunky cameras that would take his picture every year. He remembered going to the church with his mother where a few other people were taking photos too. They always had to wait a long time. It would be him and his mother, holding hands, waiting for their turn. His father never came. Van realized she must have the one who liked the family photos because when she left, his family had never taken another one. Van stared at it, the picture. He stared at his young face and the beautiful face of his mother whom he'd nearly forgotten. He shook his head and put it in his bag, paperclipped between the photos of him and Petra. He wished he could cry some tears about that photo. About how he was taking one of the only tangible things his father still had of his former wife. About how much he missed his mother. About how betrayed and lonely and angry he felt. He couldn't cry anymore. His feelings about this were so absent, it bothered him. Van wished he could cry, just to feel something. Feel something for this broken family.

Van remembered the paper. When he finally found some, he wrote a note.

I'm moving away. I won't be around to help you anymore. If you need anything, I hope there is someone you can call. Please don't forget about my sheep. -Van

He put the piece of paper on the messy kitchen counter, by the coffee press. He'd be sure to find it there. He took a long look around. He didn't recognize this home. He'd lived here for years, yes, but he couldn't recall happiness here. Petra was right. How could he ever have found himself in this mess?

A rustling in the half-open pantry caught Van's attention. There was a young cat making a mess out of the bag of grain on the floor. Van had seen it a few times when coming to tuck his father into bed after a long night who knows where. He'd made some trust with this cat, feeding it leftover fish from the pub and giving it milk from time to time. He assumed it was a stray that his father took in because his loneliness was killing him. Van's replacement. Van clicked his tongue. The cat was emaciated, ribs showing and all. This was no way to live. If Van was rescuing himself, he could make room for one more on the ship to salvation. He just hoped this cat was up for the adventure.

Van scooped up the cat and put him in his backpack. He curled up quite nicely in there. He must have known Van was trying to save him.

That was that. With all the moving and shuffling Van had done in the house, his father still hadn't sat up to see what the commotion was.

Van left without saying goodbye.

As Van was walking along the road out of town, he thought about Lalo. Their friendship had fallen apart ever since that day.

That fateful day.

It was Sunday.

Lalo and his friends were day drinking at the tavern and he'd come all the way to Van's pasture to find him and tell him to quit working for the day. Van had listened, for once. He wasn't one to spare any expense when caring for his animals. Lalo had helped him round up his sheep and put them back in their pen for the day. They'd not even washed up before they headed to resume their merriment.

The two of them were the last ones to leave.

Maybe Lalo had suspected him all along. Maybe he'd know what Van had been thinking of him. Maybe he'd been too afraid to say anything about it sober, risking his reputation and his street cred with his friends... but he thought he could explore all of it under the influence of drink. So they did.

Not for very long. It was a short time. But the hungry way Lalo kissed him was borne into his soul like a brand. It was nothing like the sweet love he'd bad to Petra. It was hard. It had hurt. It was rough. It was dirty. Van hated that he'd done it. All those years of fantasizing about his friend, a friend he didn't want to think of in such a carnal way... summed up to the heaviest guilt he'd felt in his life. And he walked away. For good.

He avoided Lalo after that day. Even when Lalo was begging him to stay. He put on his pants and disappeared, kept to himself as much as he could. He say Lalo less and less, and it hurt him, to watch a friendship die like that. He felt responsible for ruining it. What was worst of all, was that he told no one.

Lalo had chased him, asked him why. Why couldn't they try things out. Asked him if he hadn't been good enough in bed, if he didn't like boys like he thought he did. That wasn't it. It wasn't a question Van knew the answer to. Not right then. In short, Van told him he wanted to try it, and he did. He wished he never did. Not with him.

Van later realized it was that he placed such a price on Lalo and his affection that when he finally paid it... the cost was too much for too little. He thought sleeping with him would provide clarity to all his confusion... make him feel better. He thought it would give him closure and maybe even a relationship. He thought he could make something with Lalo like he'd made with Petra. Something beautiful and safe and sacred. At least he wanted to think that. But Van found out... the things he loved, truly loved, about Lalo, he had made up.

He never told him that. It would've hurt him too much.

Before he knew it, he was on the edge of town. He was really leaving. He'd made his plan before leaving his front door: travel the day to Lola, the nearest town near the base of the mountains, get a room, and in the morning find a wagon to take him north. While in thought, a deep, baritone voice roused him. A passerby on the road.

"You leaving?"

Van turned.

Speak of the devil.

"Oh... yeah. I am."

His lazy eye was squinting against the mid-afternoon sun, shining right in his face. By his bags, Lalo assumed Van was leaving for good.

"Well... I'll make sure your old man takes care of your flock."

The statement sat in Van's stomach like a stone.

"Thank you... I'm sure he'll need reminding."

Van wanted to hug Lalo goodbye. He missed Lalo's hugs. The hugs that he cherished and savored in secret where he'd smell his clothes and wonder what it was like to kiss him. Before Lalo ever knew what his insides felt like.

Hugging him now, he couldn't stomach the thought. The only hug he thought of now was the one locked in close with sweaty grunts in some foreign animal language. He felt bad, knowing Lalo probably wanted the same thing.

Van was quiet for a minute as they stood there, shoulder to shoulder facing opposite sides of their destiny.

"I'll miss you, Van. Maybe one day we can talk... about everything."

Van felt strange tears prick at the back of his eyes.

"Yeah... maybe one day we can... I'd like to."

"Me too."

"Take care of yourself, Lalo."

"You too."

And as Lalo's footsteps were the last to sound behind him, Van was off to start his new life.

[marcellathecheesemonger]

English Cheese Board, Abel and Cole Plus the Rogue Creamery Giveaway Continues

English Cheese Board, Abel and Cole Plus the Rogue Creamery Giveaway Continues

a Rafflecopter giveaway Living in a small town you get to know most of the people, either by name or from running into them in the shops or downtown. One of our downtown businesses is Southern Alpaca Connection which I wrote about a couple of years ago. You can read by thoughts here. After spending that Friday afternoon tasting wine and getting to know George, Judy and Dawn, I did several cheese…

[fatfashionforyou]

6 Online Brands That You’ll Actually Want to Shop From

Only goes up to a size XL? Ew. Outdated prints and frumpy fits? Double Ew. Doesn’t even use plus-size models in their garment photos? TRIPLE EW. 

 We’ve all been through it. Scrolling through our devices, finding the cutest little clothing piece on instagram, going to the website of said clothing piece and then... getting the worst news possible: they don’t have our size. Thus begins the spiral of devastation, frustration, and hopelessness while we ask ourselves “WHEN IS IT OUR TURN TO BE CATERED TO?” 

As someone who has experienced this horrible feeling themselves, I have set out on curating a list of my favorite inclusive, innovative, and fashionable clothing brands that never let me down with their unique styles and aesthetics. And because I care about ya, here they are just for you <3

1. WRAY NYC

WRAY NYC is a staple for me. A NYC-based, size inclusive, fine arts inspired brand that delivers both casual and elevated pieces from their checkered lounge sets (as pictured above) to silky and sexy evening dresses. Check out their new holiday collection for stunning pieces to show off to your friends, family, and tinder dates this upcoming festive season. 

Website: https://wray.nyc/

Size range: XXS - 6XL 

Price: $$

2. CHROMAT

Future forward body wear designed for all bodies. CHROMAT is a brand that I’ve always admired. Through their swimwear, they convey a very valuable message, that “every body is worthy of love, acceptance, and being empowered”. Though they are a little more expensive than you run of the mill Target bathing suit, their garment quality and unique style make the investment oh so worth it.

Website: https://chromat.co/

Size range: XS - 4XL

Price: $$ and a half

3. Fashion Brand Company

FBC in three words: Campy, non-traditional, made-to-last (okay I know that last one was not one word, give me a break here). Self proclaimed to be exclusively designed and operated by lizards (Penelope, the owner, has a wicked sense of humor), this brand walks the fine line between the absurd and the everyday wear in their magnificently unique garments. My favorite piece from their new collection is their Swiss Cheese Trouser, a pastel yellow, linen pant with circular cutouts on the legs. It doesn’t get much better than that. 

Website: https://www.fashionbrandcompany.com/

Size range: XS - 6XL

Price: $$

4. Tyler McGillivary

If you love playful textiles, bold colors, and interesting silouettes, then you’ll love Tyler McGillivary. The line is inspired by a range of influences including contemporary design, illustration, early cartoons, digital art and nature. Want to turn some heads with your look? Then look no further than this brand.

Website: https://www.tylermcgillivary.com/

Size Range: XS - 3XL

Price: $$$

5. PUNYUS

Owned, operated, and designed by Japanese model and comedian Naomi Watanabe, this cutesy clothing brand has been a pioneer for inclusive fashion in Japan and Eastern Asia. As a plus-size woman herself, Ms. Watanabe has always found her confidence in fashion and leads the way in her homeland by creating fun, out-of-the box designs for every body. 

Website: https://punyus.jp/

Size Range: about a US 0 - US 20

Price: $ and a half

6. Snag Tights

Long lasting, size inclusive, ethically made, creatively designed, and affordable tights and body wear. Need I say more?

(Okay I will say a little more - definitely check out their white ‘When Doves Cry’ garter hose. Has the most perfect opaque color and soft buttery feel. You’ll thank me later.)

Website: https://snagtights.us/

Size Range: XS - 6XL

Price: $

[stuffdtothemaxxarchive]

In which the reader gets whisked away by the fae and turns into a spoiled and fattened pet

Warnings: kidnapping, force feeding, explicit NSFW, fattening to immobility, breaking furniture, nudity, human pet, master/slave dynamics

Tags: (extreme) weight gain, fantasy setting, royalty

You can’t quite remember how things turned out like this.

You definitely remember walking in the forest, and coming across a girl with long brown hair and striking green eyes, who you discovered was named Andrea, and she offered you a snack. You didn’t really think anything of it at the time, but as soon as you swallowed, the world seemed to suddenly change around you.

You remember seeing Andrea’s ears become pointy, and a silvery pair of wings sprouting from her back— you’d made a mistake that day. You ate food from the fae. And now you were doomed to live within their realm forever.

Well, doomed was a strong word to use— as soon as you arrived to a village of fairies, they quickly whisked you away, stripping you of your clothes and dressing you in a soft silk gown that left very little to the imagination. You were soon presented to their queen— a woman dressed in a long silver gown, her bright red hair pulled back neatly. Her striking auburn eyes looked you over, and she smiled as she offered you a place to sit by her throne.

You were seated in a chair upholstered in velvet, and soon the food came. Various cheeses, wines, fruits, meats, deserts— as much as your poor belly could handle. Once the entire session was over, your belly was as tight as a drum, and you felt much too stuffed to move. Thankfully, the queen’s servants were able to hoist you out of your seat and carry you off to the queen’s chambers.

The queen gently began to rub your belly as she explained to you the situation at hand. Her name was Selene, and she was the queen of the fae in these woods. Lately, she had fancied that she wanted a human pet— many other fae queens kept humans as pets to keep them company— and to also act as her consort. You didn’t really see any other option at this point, having eaten so much fae food, so you agreed to stay.

After that, the days slowly began to blur together. Most of your day was spent lounging by Selene’s throne, feeding yourself pastries and drinking fine wine as she attended to her royal duties. Your every need was taken care of by her attendants— Andrea being one of them. The two of you got along very well, and Selene agreed to let her be your personal servant.

Andrea attended to your every need. She awoke you in the morning, fed you breakfast, helped you dress, escort you to the throne room, kept you fed throughout the day, helped you bathe, and lay you down to sleep. You barely had to lift a finger anymore. Really, the most movement you seemed to be doing was using your mouth to chew your food and occasionally walk from room to room. But sometimes you even needed assistance with that, especially after a particularly large meal.

Due to the sudden change in your lifestyle, your middle began to soften rather quickly. What was once a rather flat stomach turned into a chubby belly, and you only seemed to be getting bigger by the day. The excess fat soon began to appear in places you hadn’t previously expected— on your arms, your thighs, your cheeks, even your fingers.

You remember one particular evening that a few queens from neighboring kingdoms came to visit, and they also brought along their human pets. The majority of them were much bigger than you were— and you had to admit, their size slightly intimidated you. Most of them had to be wheeled in on special carts, save for one who was just barely able to waddle from place to place.

The neighboring queens quickly flocked over to you— it had been some time since they had seen a human pet be so tiny. They pinched your chubby cheeks and poked at your softened middle, making you giggle due to how ticklish you were. From the corner of your eye, you saw Selene beaming with pride.

A banquet was held that night, and you were seated in a special chamber for the human pets. The room was large, and the floor was covered in soft blankets and pillows. The other pets spent most of their time gorging themselves, every so often looking your way to watch you try to keep up with their insatiable appetites.

The one other pet who was still mobile— Jena was their name— asked you how long you had been with Selene. You thought for a moment, and replied with a simple shrug of your shoulders, since your mouth was currently full of food and you didn’t want to be rude.

Jena seemed to understand that. They explained to you that time worked differently in the fae world. It was impossible to tell time the way humans did, because their concept of time doesn’t match the human concept. You nodded along as you finished your third glass of wine, sparking a small laugh from Jena. With a bit of a struggle, they got up and waddled closer to you. Once they were close enough, they sat down again, and quickly began to stuff more food into your mouth. You were much too skinny! It wouldn’t do at all! They wanted to personally make sure that you finished this meal with as full of a belly as you could possibly handle.

When Selene came with the others to bring their pets back home, you were more bloated with food and wine than you ever had been before. You laid on the floor helplessly, unable to move. You desperately attempted to roll onto your side, but you didn’t move an inch, and the sudden movement caused a rather loud burp to escape you. The other queens helped you to get upright, and as the others left, Andrea helped you back to your chambers.

Days soon blended into months. You were getting bigger and softer by the day. At this point, you likely weighed close to four hundred pounds, and you found yourself to become much more winded than usual when performing simple tasks. Thankfully, Andrea was there to assist you, making sure to keep you fed while also keeping you nice and clean— a bit of a difficult task, since doing so much as walking from room to room caused you to break into a sweat.

The day finally came when your chair broke from underneath you. Selene had been signing some royal documents, and Andrea had been feeding you some grapes; you collapsed to the ground with a resounding thud, your fat wobbling as you landed on your soft bottom. When the shock wore off, Selene quickly dismissed her servants and had Andrea assist you to her royal bed chambers.

Selene quickly stripped the satin gown off of you— at this point, you were likely past the five hundred pound mark, and any sharp angles that you might have once had were replaced with rolls of plush fat. You didn’t have very many stretch marks, save for a few that stretched across the very top of your plush belly. Every joint you had was now at least partially covered with fat, and your genitals were covered by a rather large pad of fat.

That seemed to be exactly what the queen wanted first, her hand diving under your fatness to try to find your genitalia— when she did find them, you released a rather loud moan. It had been some time since you had been touched down there, and the sensation sent ripples down your body.

Selene snapped her fingers, and when she did, a plate appeared with an entire cake on it. Through magic, bite-sized bits detached themselves and flew into your mouth, which you happily accepted.

The two of you went at this for what felt like hours— pleasuring you while she fed you, getting herself off by climbing on top of your huge gut and grinding against it until she came, then pleasuring you again, and the cycle kept going and going until you finally passed out, both from exhaustion and a rather heavy food coma.

After you broke your chair, your seat beside Selene was replaced with a pile of plush blankets and pillows for you to lounge on. Slowly, the robes you wore began to fit less and less, until one finally ripped during one of your meals. After that, you were allowed to simply be nude— your genitals were buried under fat rolls, after all, so it wasn’t like you were totally exposed to whoever came to visit.

The day finally came when you could barely make it out of bed. The sheer amount of fat rolls that had accumulated on your body made it near impossible for you to move or roll over. The solution to this, of course, was to move your mattress to the throne room. You took your final steps out of your bed chambers that day— slow, lazy steps that more resembled a waddle than anything— but it was your final steps nonetheless.

Ever since then, you’ve been spending your days being pampered in the queen’s throne room. You have several attendants who serve you— some constantly feed you, while others help you wash off, and Andrea was the only one beside the queen who was allowed to help you when you felt an urge down there. At this point, your limbs had been completely swallowed by fat. Your arms dangled lazily at your sides, your sausage-sized fingers only moving whenever you pointed at a new treat to eat. Your belly stretched out at least a foot in front of you, framed perfectly by your huge legs, though they were barely recognizable as such. Your knees and feet had long ago been covered in fat as well, so they ended up looking more like shapeless mounds of dough than actual limbs. Just barely, you could still wiggle your toes, but you knew that soon that too would become a distant memory.

You felt content in this state, being pampered while royalty watched on with fondness. And every night, before you drifted off into another food coma and Selene retired to her chambers, she would leave a kiss on what used to be your cheek, but was now just another fat roll. You smiled as best you could as she left the throne room, leaving you to drift off again into a bliss-filled sleep.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 3) - A Moment

Summary: Jensen is away from home for a few days but isn’t having the easiest time being away from the kids for the first time since the accident. When he returns home, he has a gala to attend on Saturday night but a kiss on the cheek and slip of the tongue will snowball into the reader and Jensen sharing a moment...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 6,100ish

Warnings: language, death of a spouse, death of a parent, anxiety, self-worth problems, referenced past harassment

A/N: I love this part so much for so many reasons. Please enjoy!

________

“Hi Jensen,” you asked Monday night when your phone rang. “How was your flight earlier?”

“Same old same old. I just got out of work,” he said with a yawn. “Gonna grab a bite out with a friend. Kids eat dinner okay?”

“We had honey sriracha glazed salmon with brussel sprouts and roasted red potatoes.”

“Really?”

“They had kraft mac and cheese and I had Taco Bell.”

“See this is why I like you,” he chuckled.

“I’ll try the salmon again tomorrow. I was gonna make it but they didn’t have any at the store,” you said, opening the fridge and taking out a pint of ice cream. “Hey can I have what’s left of this mint ice cream?”

“Sure. Pick some more up for me sometime before friday please,” he said. “Also, Taco Bell? You do realize we live in freaking Austin right. There are literally hundreds of places you can go that have better mexican food.”

“Yeah but fake cheese tastes good,” you said. He laughed and your stomach rumbled. “I so should have gotten more than two tacos.”

“You in the kitchen?” he asked. You hummed and you heard him let out an oof in the background.

“Yeah. You alright?”

“This bed in my hotel room is comfy,” he said. “But I was starting to say, go in the drawer at the end of the counter by the table. There’s only five hundred gajillion take out menus in there. Order a treat for yourself. It’s on me.”

“Jensen. I can get my own dinner.”

“True but you’re on call 24/7 until I get back.”

“Well in that case I bet you got a menu for a fancy steakhouse in here somewhere,” you teased as you picked up one for a tex mex looking restaurant. “Does this place really have quesadillas this big?”

“You must be looking at the menu on top. I almost ordered from there last week actually. The food’s great. They do delivery too. Just buzz the guy into the gate when they get there.”

“Any recommendations?” you asked, taking out the menu and flipping it over.

“Quesadillas are good. Loaded nachos are amazing. I’ve literally never had a bad thing from there,” he said. “To be honest I’d rather be getting that than where I’m going tonight.”

“Why’s that?” you asked, reading through your options, surprised to find such good prices.

“I have to wear a suit,” he said with a sigh. “After being poked and prodded all day I literally would rather just eat crap and watch food network.”

“How long have you known this friend of yours?” you asked.

“Twenty years, why?”

“Then you guys knew each other when you were young. It’s not too late out there. Call him, see if he’d rather get some crap food, a six pack and just catch up on his couch or in your room. I’m pretty sure he’s more looking forward to seeing an old friend again than the food,” you said.

“You make very good points. I should pay you more,” he said.

“You pay me plenty and barely let me spend a dime of my money on myself,” you said. “I don’t need more.”

“You got that fancy computer though.”

“You literally have the exact same mac in your office.”

“You moved in like three boxes and two computers,” he said.

“An ipad is not a computer,” you said.

“Debatable.”

“Well I like to draw sometimes and it’s easier on an ipad when you’re laying in bed,” you said. 

“Are you any good?” he asked.

“No.”

“I bet they’re really good,” he said as you rolled your eyes. “I see you draw with the kids sometimes and those are good.”

“It’s a hobby is all,” you said, leaning back against the counter, your stomach grumbling again. “Anything else you want me to grab at the store? I’m going to hit it tomorrow while everyone’s at school.”

“Nah. Get the usual stuff,” he said. “The kiddos in bed?”

“Yeah, got the last one down about fifteen minutes ago,” you said. He hummed and you heard the sigh in it. “I got a video of them playing earlier I’ll send you.”

“Thanks. It’s my first night away from them in a long time. Normally I’m able to come back same day. I was kinda hoping they’d still be awake to say goodnight.”

“They’re safe and sound dad. We’ll call again after school tomorrow to talk like today,” you said.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. He was quiet and you pulled the phone away, taking a deep breath. 

“You okay?” 

“I haven’t been alone like this in a really long time.”

“I know. You check out your backpack yet?”

“No. Why?”

“You didn’t bring a jacket with you so I put that yellow hoodie that’s always on the hook in there in case you got cold.”

“That was Dee’s hoodie.”

“I was pretty sure it was,” you said. You heard him shuffle around briefly before he hummed, much happier that time. “I thought you might like to have a piece of...something-”

“I really don’t pay you enough,” he said quietly. “Thanks for putting this in there. I need something from home more than I realized.”

“Well put it on, call up your buddy and have some fun tonight, Ackles. Nanny’s orders.” He laughed and you felt that twinge in your stomach again, your eyes quickly closing.

“I will. Hey you mind if I call again tomorrow night? I don’t have any plans and sitting in a hotel room by myself isn’t very fun.” You smiled and felt heat in your cheeks, quickly thinking it away. He wanted company for a few minutes was all and you were friends. It was completely normal to talk with friends on the phone everyday.

“Of course. As long as you get a dinner in at some point that’s more than fine with me,” you said. “We can talk about The Bachelor!”

“Oh God no,” he groaned, chuckling after a few seconds. “I’ll settle for Grey’s Anatomy.”

“This Is Us?” you asked.

“Supernatural?”

“I haven’t watched that yet. I’m working up to it,” you said. 

“Work faster woman. I only know legit everything about that one,” he chuckled. “But probably not a good idea to watch that one until I get back and you're not alone. First episode is kinda scary.”

“Oh well thanks for that,” you said, watching the clock tick by, knowing it had to be almost seven out there. “I’ll let you go. Have fun tonight Jensen.”

“I will Y/N. Promise.”

Friday Night

“Arrow,” you said after she’d flung her pasta bowl all over herself, covering her hair and face. She sniffled and you forced a smile. “Okay. How about a bath after dinner?”

Fifteen minutes later JJ and Zeppelin were in the movie room watching a cartoon while you had Arrow in the kids bathroom, scooping up some water over her head in the tub.

“Well hello ladies,” you heard behind you. You jumped and spun around, glaring for a moment before you recognized Jensen.

“Just me,” he said, backpack still on his shoulders. 

“Daddy I got ziti all over my head,” she said.

“You did?” he asked, dropping his bag and taking off his jacket, kneeling down next to you. You got the last bit of sauce off and squirted some shampoo in her hair, Jensen watching you with a smile. “How was your day?”

She told him all about breakfast and daycare, playing with a few toy boats with him while you rinsed out the soap. You did a bit of conditioner before getting it out as well and putting the spray nozzle back.

“I got the rest if you wanna get the dryer ready?” he asked you, reaching for the soap. You swapped spots with him, Jensen washing her up while she kept talking about her day. By the time he was all done you had the dryer out and plugged in, Jensen picking her up and wrapping her up in a big bundle of towels before he set her on the counter. You went to work drying her hair, Jensen draining the tub and finding some pajamas for her.

“Do you want your hair up or down, sweetie?” you asked. She tried gathering it up and you grabbed her soft scrunchie perfectly fine for sleeping in from the counter. You put her hair up in a soft little bun, Jensen making an adorable sound when he returned.

“Aw, you look so cute, baby. I’ll be right there alright?” he said. She hopped off the counter and got dressed, rushing off downstairs when she was all done. “Survive the day?”

“Somehow we always do,” you said, gathering up the towels. “Kids are in the movie room.”

“Thanks. I’m gonna shower but we’re all good for the night,” he said. “Thanks for watching them this week.”

“You gotta go do your job,” you said. “You working on a movie or something? You never said.”

“Uh gonna be in a show called The Boys,” he said. “I’m gonna be one of the superheroes so I gotta go out and get my suit made all special for me every so often.”

“You’re gonna be a supe! That’s so fucking cool!” you said. He grinned and you blushed, shaking your head. “I’m so sorry. That was so not appropriate.”

“I don’t see any little ears around,” he chuckled. “You like the show then?”

“Yeah. It’s great. Like no other show consistently makes me go what the fuck did I just see. That’s so cool you get to be a supe though. Are you a one off or like a main character?”

“I’ll be very present in the next season. Gonna deal with the seven, all that,” he said. “I’m gonna be Solider Boy.”

“I can see that. You have that all American boy thing about you.”

“It’s my adorable face,” he teased. 

“Well remember to not stay up too late. You have the gala tomorrow night remember?”

“Yes mom,” he said as you walked out. “Get the kids some takeout for dinner tomorrow and yourself.”

“Sounds good boss,” you said. “Night Jensen.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

The Next Night

You froze from where you were mixing up some brownie batter with JJ at the kitchen counter as Jensen popped downstairs. He was in a gorgeous black suit, a maroon pocket square and no tie going on, his hair scruffier looking than normal.

He started to laugh and you realized you were staring, your cheeks feeling hot as you went back to stirring.

“Mmm, you guys save me a brownie or two for when I get home?” he asked, leaning over and dipping his finger in the bowl of cream cheese frosting.

“We’ll spare one for dad,” you said, Jensen going back for seconds. “Ah, ah. No.”

He dipped his finger in and got another fingerful, kissing the top of JJ’s head and the twins at the counter.

“Be good for Y/N guys!” he called as he rushed out.

You whistled and he jogged back, catching you holding up his phone from the counter.

“Thank you,” he said, taking it and pecking a kiss on your cheek. You looked up at him and he froze. “I am so sorry. I…”

“It’s okay. Go have fun and be all charitable,” you said. He shoved his phone in his pocket and ran out, JJ scratching her head.

“Dad’s kinda weird sometimes,” she said.

“Yeah, he is. But so is everybody,” you said. “Let’s get this in the oven so you guys can pick out colors for your frosting, hm?”

“I really shouldn’t. But I really should,” you said to yourself, plopping your second brownie of the night in a bowl and sticking a scoop of ice cream on top. You carried it over to the couch and lay back, watching TV on the big screen as you heard the door open. Jensen came into view a minute later, taking his jacket off and groaning as he washed up at the sink. He went to the tray of brownies on the counter and picked one up with a big sigh. “Fun night?”

He jumped and whacked his head against the cabinet above, hissing before he spun around.

“You okay?” you asked. He nodded and left the brownie behind, pushing his sleeves up before taking a seat on the other end of the lounger.

“Y/N I’m really sorry about the kiss on the cheek. That was so inappropriate. You’ve kinda implied that there was some stuff that’s happened to you at other jobs you found over the line and I’m really truly sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I wasn’t...I forgot you’re my employee for a moment. I really am sorry.”

“Jensen if I had a problem with it or you or your behavior I would quit on the spot. I don’t let myself get pushed around anymore. You were happy and busy and you pecked a kiss on my cheek, not reach a hand down my pants. It’s really okay. You’re way too hard on yourself.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Positive. It’s barely ten which means you left as soon as you could. You’re supposed to be out having fun,” you said.

“I was kinda freaking out that you hated me,” he said.

“Dude you gotta relax,” you said. “Have a brownie and some ice cream.”

He got up and after a minute took a seat at the other end with a bowl of his own, smiling as he got a taste.

“This is fucking awesome,” he said.

“I know,” you said, Jensen smirking. “Do you feel better now silly boy? I promise that if you ever do anything I find inappropriate I will promptly kick you in the balls.”

“I can agree to that,” he said. He ate for a moment, watching the TV and laying back. “Do you ever like, want to go do things with your friends on a Saturday night? If you do that’s totally cool. These aren’t normal hours anyways.”

“Being a nanny eats up a lot of your social life,” you said. “Kinda got kicked out of my friend group after I broke up with my ex anyways.”

“Well they sound like they suck,” he said.

“Yes, they do,” you said. “I don’t mind so much. I meet plenty of new people through work. Only person you can depend on is yourself and I don’t tend to let myself down.”

“That’s a very lonely way to go through life,” he said.

“It’s not easy to make friends in your thirties,” you said. “Maybe for someone like you who travels and meets new people a lot and stuff but you have like, real friendships. You know?”

“Well we have a real friendship, don’t we? You’re friends with Jared and Rob and Ruthie and Rich,” he said. “I don’t trust just anybody with my kids. That’s real.”

“Yeah,” you said, taking a bite. “So when’s your friend free?”

“Hm?”

“Blind date guy. Maybe he could be a friend if things work out,” you said.

“Oh yeah. He uh, he actually got a gig up in Canada so you might need to wait like a month or so. But he’s excited to meet you,” said Jensen.

“Can I have his number?” you asked. “Or do you think that’d be weird?”

“No, not weird. I think he just kinda wants to do it old school if that’s okay. Meet you first and go from there.”

“This friend of yours better be like super hot,” you said.

“If it’s a problem-“

“I can respect him wanting to do things like that. But I’m gonna want a firm date soon,” you said.

���I’ll make sure to get you one,” he said. “I’ll get it down tomorrow, promise.”

“He better not mind me eating like this either. I ain’t a salad on the first date kinda girl. He’s gonna need to keep up with my eating while were at it,” you said. He snorted in his seat beside you and ran his hand over his face.

“I will keep that in mind. I have occasionally had dessert first truth be told,” he said.

“This is why I like you Ackles. You get my sweet tooth,” you laughed.

“It’s a good thing your dinners are healthy cause I swear I haven’t consumed this many baked goods in months,” he said. “The kids love it and my stomach loves it though.”

“I’m gonna need to start working out though if I keep this up. Oh hey is it okay if I do laps in the pool in the mornings? I’ll be super quiet and stuff.”

“You don’t gotta ask,” he smiled. “Like I said when you started, you got free reign to use the pool, the gym, whatever, aside from my room. You a swimmer?”

“Not really but I hate running and supposedly it’s a good workout or something,” you shrugged, eating another bite of brownie.

“Anything in the gym you’re free to use. I know you must get a little bored sometimes when I’m gone and the kids are,” he said.

“Not bored per say. Ordinarily I would do more chores but you have like a cleaner and a landscaper and you just...give me more time in the day than I’m used to is all. It’s actually great though. It gives me plenty of time to come up with ideas for the kids and stuff.”

“Well as long as you’re taking breaks and your lunch do as you please,” he said, his spoon scraping the bottom of his bowl.

“Now that’s just sad.”

“I really should get another one of these,” he said, sucking the spoon.

“It’s really the only choice you have,” you said. He laughed as he hopped up, skirting back into the kitchen and fixing up another brownie and ice cream combo.

“Hey you want more, Dee?” he asked. You popped your head up and he spun around. “I’m-“

“Don't apologize, Jensen,” you said. He tapped his fingers against the counter and took a deep breath, putting his back to you.

“That’s the second time tonight I’ve done that,” he said. 

“Jensen. There’s nothing wrong with missing your wife.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“You don’t...talk about her much.”

“It was...she wasn’t…” he trailed off. He sat down on a barstool and you got up, walking over and hopping up on the counter beside him. You set your feet in the stool next to his and paused before you put a hand on top of his head and ran your fingers through the short strands. “This shouldn’t have happened to her.”

“Death is the price for living. Pain’s the price for caring. Doesn’t mean it’s not worth it,” you said. You started to move your hand away when he turned his head. 

“Don’t…” he said, easing when you played with it gently again. “That’s always calmed me down since I was a little kid.”

“Someone should take care of you every once in a while you know. Your parents, siblings, friends. Everyone needs a break.”

“I had a lot of help at the beginning. I don’t need a whole day. Just a moment here and there,” he said quietly.

“It’ll be okay, Jensen,” you said. He nodded and you played with his hair a few moments, watching his shoulders ease. This time when you pulled away he smiled up at you. “Better?”

“Yeah. Thank you. That’s not in your job description to do that sort of thing.”

“Well I think your wife would want somebody to watch your back, even for only a minute or two,” you said.

“You don’t have any brain aneurysms I should know about, do you?” he chuckled. 

“No. That what happened?” you asked, a single nod coming from him.

“She was sleeping. Not a bad way to go I was told, you’d never even know,” he said. “Not a fun thing to wake up to in the morning though.”

“My dad had a mass at the back of his head. It was that same kind of thing where one second it’s fine and the next everything’s different deal. It was inoperable. Then he goes and dies from a car accident of all things before it got bad. My mom had a hard time with that.”

“You said she had a boyfriend later on right?” he asked.

“Yeah. I know you’ll be okay, Jensen,” you said. You ruffled his hair and he smiled, a soft look on his face. “Pro tip too from someone who’s been there, kids with a single parent turn out just fine.”

“Do they ever wish they had another parent?” he asked.

“They wish the parent they still have around is happy again someday. They won’t understand until they’re older that it’s a different kind of love between parents. But they’ll know it’s a little different and they’ll hope dad feels better too. Your kids are tough. They’ll be okay too.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he said. You hopped off the counter and washed up your dish, sticking it in the dishwasher before you went to leave for your room. “So I gotta ask. Who takes care of you?”

“Me?” you asked, pointing to yourself. He shrugged and smiled, your gaze going past him. “I’m all good. I don’t need somebody to take care of me.”

“Liar,” he said softly. “You know my friend tells me everybody needs to be taken care of sometimes.”

“That’s the difference between us Jensen. You’re not like me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he scoffed, his face scrunching up suddenly.

“It means you’re not on your own and even if you feel like it, it’s only been a little while. You’ll be okay. I’ve been taking care of myself since I was a kid. I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“You haven’t lived my life and I haven’t lived yours. Don’t try to tell me that I’m not capable of-”

“It’s not about what you’re capable of. You said pain is part of life, it’s the price for living. You’ve had more than your fair share-”

“Lots of people have it a lot worse.”

“Don’t compare your pain to someone else's. They haven’t lived your life,” he said. You rolled your eyes and started to walk away, Jensen out of his seat and catching up with you in the hall. “You can be taken care of too you know.”

“By who? My non-existent circle of friends? My crappy ex? My mom’s ex boyfriend who’s got his own wife and kids? I am perfectly fine managing all of this by myself. I’ve been doing it for years.”

“You’re so frustratingly annoying,” he said, running his hand over his face. “Me. I’m talking about me. You just...you took care of me tonight. The least I can do is show you the same compassion.”

“No,” you said.

“No? Why not?”

“Because taking care of me turns into you walking into my shower without my permission and you being a dick and this going away and I don’t want you to be those things so no. We’re getting too friendly. Please leave me alone tomorrow.”

You left him in the hall and went down to your area of the house, shutting the door after you. There was quickly a knock and you growled, ripping it open.

“What?” you snapped at him.

“I am not going to hurt you or be a dick to you or whatever else you think. You need to realize in the real world, not everyone is an asshole.”

“You’re the one not living in the real world then, Jensen. Everybody’s an asshole.”

“Fine. I’m an asshole. But I’m not leaving until you say I can take care of you tomorrow. Two minutes is all I’m asking for.”

“This is my part of the house.”

“And technically I am outside your door,” he said. “Why are you so resistant to somebody doing something nice for you?”

“Because I don’t wanna get used to it,” you said. He stared and you shook your head. “You’re attractive and an actor and kind and funny and it’s not a matter of if you date again but when and when that day comes, we ain’t gonna be sitting on the couch eating ice cream anymore. Please do not invite me to anymore outings as a friend. I’ll attend if required as a nanny but this between us is done.”

“For the record, the only one around here that thinks of you as just the hired help is you. My children are completely like their old selves. I feel more like my old self. You seem happier than when I met you but for some reason, that’s a big problem to you. I do not understand that.”

“Leave or I resign and move out first thing,” you said. He crossed his arms and lifted his chin. “This is my formal resignation then. The company will-”

He moved quickly and you weren’t sure what he was doing at first but soon you realized he was hugging you, your hands resting against his chest. You swallowed and he didn’t move, your forehead resting against him.

“What are you doing?” you breathed out.

“When’s the last time you got a fucking hug?” he asked.

“The kids-”

“Not the kids.”

“I don’t remember,” you said quietly. 

“Then you are overdue,” he said. You let yourself reach your arms around him and return the hug, breathing deeply, a small bubble in you rising up. You tried to push it down but it came back harder and you were fighting back tears before you knew it. 

He could feel when you lost that battle, hand rubbing up and down your back. There was a soft shushing in the air and after a few minutes you felt better. You lifted your head but didn’t look at him, Jensen squeezing you in his hug again before it eased.

“You know you’re not allowed to quit on me...like ever,” he chuckled. You let out a small laugh, Jensen smiling at you when you forced your head up. He wiped off your cheeks and you let out one last sniffle. “You’re not alone. I promise you’re not. It’s not the quantity of people you have in your life but the quality and I’m sorry but we are friends and there’s nothing you can do about that so I’d just accept it now.”

“I’m sorry I was such a bitch.”

“You were scared, not a bitch,” he said. “I wish I could make you happier is all.”

“I wish I could bring back your wife for you,” you said.

“One of those is a lot more possible than the other,” he said. A small smile crossed his lips before he ducked his head down, shoulders heaving back before his head raised. “Y/N, can I confess something to you? I hope...I hope it doesn’t bother you but if it does, you don’t have to continue working for me. I’d still like to be friends regardless.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked, Jensen looking past you.

“My single friend I was going to set you up with? He doesn’t exist.”

“Oh.”

“Cause he’s kinda me.”

“Oh,” you said, staring at him, a lot of his previous behavior starting to click into place. “That’s…”

“I know,” he said, stepping away and rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s weird and douchey and I’m sorry. I like you and I was trying to see if you would ever go for a 42 year old actor. I left out the widow and kids part but...I’m sorry.”

“When did you like me?” you asked quietly.

“The whole time?” he said, laughing nervously to himself. “It’s kinda snowballed since we met. I never in my life thought I’d like someone again. I didn’t want to like you. I hired you because you were the best candidate and I knew the kids would be in good hands but everyday it’s there, even more, and I know this is so inappropriate on so many levels and I’m really starting to ramble here but you make me think maybe your mom had a point and people are allowed to have...more than one…and sometimes the way you talk to me and treat me and look at me...” 

He swallowed as you stepped in front of him, taking a quick breath. 

“I will keep working for you and I’ll be your friend...and you can make me dinner tomorrow,” you said with a smile. “We’ll see where it goes from there?”

“You’re not...weirded out?” he asked.

“By your age, you’re my boss or the cheeky lying about a fake friend?” you said.

“All of the above.”

“Age doesn’t bother me. You have no idea how to be a boss, no offense, and the friend...I don’t blame you for wanting to test the waters first,” you said. “But I expect honesty from here on out.”

“Absolutely,” he said.

“Good,” you said.

“You do like me right?” he asked. “Like you don’t feel obligated or-”

“I like you Jensen. Why do you think I was trying to push you away before you got too close? I didn’t want to be hurt.”

“Give me a chance to not,” he said. “We can have dinner and see how it goes from there.”

“Normally the best course of action,” you said.

“But maybe with a few more hugs from now on,” he said. “For the both of us.”

“That’d be okay with me,” you said. He smiled and you returned it. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning then.”

“I guess you will,” he said. He turned to go when he spun back on his heels. “Or we could go back out there, eat way too much dessert and hang out?”

“Yeah,” you said with a smile. “Give me a minute to wash up my face.”

“Take all the time you want. I’m gonna change into something more comfortable anyways.”

He left and you washed off your face in the bathroom, drying it off and taking a deep breath.

You did like him. There was something calming about him to you and you enjoyed his company, even if it was just the two of you having a quiet cup of coffee in the morning.

But he was an actor. And kinda famous. And a widow. And had three kids. 

“But your face is cute,” you said aloud, looking the mirror. “Gah, of course you have to be like...into me. Nutjob. He must be a nutjob. That’s it.”

“Y/N?” you heard him saying and you smacked yourself in the face. “Are you talking to yourself?”

“Uh, yeah,” you said, stepping out and seeing him in the hall sporting a pair of pajama pants and a t shirt. “That was fast.”

“Well I didn’t go through an eight step skin routine too,” he chuckled.

“For your information, my routine is only three steps,” you said, walking past him and waggling your fingers.

“I didn’t realize I was living with such a savage,” he said. You laughed and went back to the kitchen, making up another dish of brownie for him while he went over to where he kept his liquor. “You a bourbon kind of girl?”

“Is there any other kind?” you said.

“Touche.” He poured out two glasses and slid one over while you passed his bowl to him. “So what’s this three step routine? Do I need to up my game or what?”

“I think I need your routine, not the other way around,” you said.

“Nah. I like looking at your face more than mine. Trust me.”

“Oh. How long you been holding back those kinds of comments?” you teased.

“Longer than you’d think,” he said, sharing the bowl with you. “Feel okay now?”

“Yeah. I can’t remember the last time I cried,” you said. “Especially in front of someone.”

“A good cry session has never hurt in my experience. I’ll do it for work and stuff but normally I’m not much of one. Aside from the past six months I mean.”

“Are you ready to try this?” you asked.

“Yeah. I know I am,” he said. “I’m positive of it.”

“How can you know that?”

“Because you make me happy. You make me...want to do stuff again, believe in all the romantic...if I wasn’t ready, I’d feel guilty. But I don’t. I just know that maybe some people get more than one chance and maybe I’m one of them.”

“I know you are, whoever it ends up being,” you said.

“Are you ready to try this?”

You took a drink and bite of ice cream, pushing the bowl back.

“I miss my family,” you said. “I miss being happy. I’d like to...have someone that could take care of me for a moment every once in a while. I might mess that up sometimes but I’m willing to try.”

“Me too,” he said. “I’d expect some screw ups on this end too. I’ve been out of the dating game for a long time.”

“I’m sure it hasn’t changed all that much,” you said.

“Well I’ve never dated with kids and as a widow,” he said.

“I’m just in this for them to be honest,” you laughed. 

“I see how it is,” he said with a smirk. 

“I don’t think it’ll be as hard as you think,” you said.

“I hope not,” he said. 

“Do they know? You want to date?”

“JJ does,” he said. “She’s little but she understands that it doesn’t mean I’ll never love her mother any less. She’s been strangely okay through this whole thing aside from the first few weeks. She helps her brother and sister out more now.”

“As someone who was that kid, minus the siblings, I know they’ll be okay. She’s a great kid. I’ve met plenty of spoiled brats. Yours are not.”

“Well that might just be the second best thing I’ve heard tonight,” he said.

“Whatever was the first?” you teased, eating a spoon of ice cream.

“Oh I think you know,” he said, stealing the spoon back. You smiled and heard some feet run around upstairs before the stairs creeped and a little head ducked down into view. “Arrow. It’s bedtime sweetie.”

“I had a accident,” she said. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, honey,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

“Want help?” you asked.

“Sure,” he said. He scooped up Arrow on the way up the stairs, setting her down in the kids bathroom. He got some clean pajamas and you found a pair of pull ups, Arrow pouting at you. 

“I don’t need ‘em,” she said.

“Your brother wears them. I wore them and your mommy and daddy wore them. Everybody wears pull ups when they’re your age,” you said.

“Just tonight,” she said, stepping into them. Jensen walked past with the mattress liner and she was dressed by the time you heard the washer going off in the distance. You walked her back to bed, Jensen slipping in past you and tucking her in. “Night daddy.”

“Night sweetie,” he said, kissing her temple. 

“Night Y/N,” she said.

“Night night kiddo,” you said, giving her a tiny wave before you left, Jensen flipping off her light and pulling the door shut. 

“Come here a second,” he said, nodding and you saw him head towards his room. The double doors were open and you stepped inside, Jensen going past the bed and over to a set of french doors. He pushed one open and waved for you to follow, showing you out to a rooftop balcony.

“Wow,” you said, a set of chairs, a table and a lounger out there along with a whole lot soft string lights. “I didn’t realize you had this up here.”

“Kinda a place to go unwind, relax,” he said. “I disappear out here sometimes. Been out here a lot at night lately.”

“Thinking about what?” you asked.

“You,” he said. “I talk to Dee about you sometimes as crazy as that sounds.”

“Doesn’t sound crazy at all,” you said.

“I just wanted to say...this area isn’t off limits anymore. Nothing is,” he said. 

“She asked you out, didn’t she,” you said with a smile. He rubbed the back of his neck and blushed. “You’re cute.”

You leaned up and kissed his cheek, heading back towards inside.

“Come on, Jensen. Before the ice cream melts on us.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 4 here!

[watchmegetobsessed]

TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part Two (Harry Styles)

a/n: you guys thank you so much for all the love you’ve showed part one!! 🥺 im so happy you like the story! i wanted to post part two a little later, in the weekend but i got so happy for all the reactions that i decided to move it earlier so here it is! i’ll try to update soon, the longest it will take is one week probably. im working on my thesis and have a lot of school work so please be patient with me! feedback is very much welcomed, as always, your reactions and comments mean so much to me!!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce

word count: 10.4k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

Pulling Izzy out of daycare dramatically lessened the amount of time she could spend with her friends, so the situation needs extra attention on her socializing. You’ve been trying to take her to the park as much as possible so she could meet with kids her age and Harry has been arranging a lot of playdates for her with her friends from daycare.

When you come back from meeting your brother for lunch on a Sunday, you are greeted with not two, but eight little feet running around the living room, many of Izzy’s toys have been brought downstairs and the coffee table is filled with fruits, snacks and drinks for the kids. You know the two little guests, it’s Yara and Zac, the three of them were like a little gang back when Izzy was attending daycare. Yara’s moms and Zac’s mom are sitting on the terrace, letting the kids roam around freely, Harry is in the kitchen preparing some sandwiches for the guests when you arrive back.

“Hi, do you need help with anything?” you ask, catching his attention.

“Oh, hi! No I’m fine, thank you. How was lunch with your brother?”

“Great,” you smile at him before leaving him to do whatever he has to do.

“Miss Y/N!” Yara greets you, waving in your way while munching on an apple slice.

“Hello Yara, Zac,” you smile at them before walking out to the terrace to greet the parents. “Hi! Ava, Saige, it’s nice to see you again. And Linda, hello!”

“Y/N, hi! Harry told us you might return soon, so good to see you!” Ava greets you as you join them at the table. They’ve been the nicest parents while you were working at the daycare, though you weren’t the only victim of the closed-minded cowards that got you fired. Ava and Saige have faced quite a lot of backlash for basically daring to be a same-sex couple out in the open. You’ve heard many complaints from other parents about how they don’t want them to pick up their daughter together. Apparently, it’s confusing for the kids to see two women to be the mothers of the same child. Ridiculous.

“I was out having lunch with my brother. How have you been?”

“Things are the same, you know,” Saige shrugs with a scowl. “But your firing has got us thinking about pulling Yara out as well.”

“Oh!”

“Yeah, it’s starting to get really ridiculous. I mean it’s one thing that we get weird looks, but firing you was kind of the last straw,” Ava nods.

“And how have you been here, Y/N? How is working for Harry?” Linda asks.

“Oh, it’s amazing, really. I love taking care of Izzy, she is so easy to handle and I love seeing her learn and grow. And Harry is a great boss, I got really lucky.”

“Lucky indeed!” Ava smirks, making them all laugh as you feel yourself blushing. “Even I sometimes dream about the man,” she adds, keeping her tone down.

“How do you keep your cool?” Linda sighs. “If I had to live with this man, I would go nuts.”

“Well, Izzy keeps me pretty busy, and he is my boss, so…”

“It’s not like HR would be up your ass if you got involved,” Saige shrugs, taking a sip from her iced tea.

You don’t get to react, the kids run out, taking over the playground, Harry arriving right behind them with a plate filled with sandwiches for the guests.

“Ladies, sorry for the wait,” he smiles, placing the food to the table as he joins your little circle.

“Oh Harry, thank you so much!” Ava sighs, grabbing one already. “We were just talking to Y/N about how big of an upgrade it is for her to work here.”

“Is it?” he asks, slightly surprised as he glances over at you.

“I mean, the paycheck is better and it’s clearly a better environment,” you chuckle shrugging.

“I just don’t know why Claire lets those assholes control the place. She is the boss there, she should stand up against them,” Linda scowls.

“She is just trying to avoid confrontation.”

“No, she is afraid they would stop paying the daycare the money, so she is an ass-kisser,” Saige scoffs, making you laugh.

“Well, at least I have Y/N now to take good care of Izzy,” Harry smiles, his eyes meeting yours and you swear your heart skips a beat when he says that he has you.

“Lucky bastard!” Ava throws her hands into the air, making everyone laugh.

Enjoying the company, you stay outside instead of locking yourself up in your room. It’s nice to see the moms occasionally pick on Harry, they surely like to joke about him being a hot single dad, but he usually just blushes and smiles at the compliments. Linda and Zac leave first, then Ava, Saige and Yara head home as well when it’s nearing five in the afternoon. Though Harry tells you to just leave the cleanup for him, you insist on helping.

“Now I feel bad you are working on your day off,” he huffs as you help him around in the kitchen.

“It’s not working,” you roll your eyes. “I live here too, of course I’m gonna help keeping it clean.”

“You know, if your brother ever wants to come over, feel free to invite him.”

“Might take your word, because he is very curious about the place,” you chuckle. Harry smiles as he starts washing the dishes.

“He is welcomed anytime.”

“Thank you.” Putting away the snacks that was left you start drying the dishes while he is washing them, working next to each other in silence. Unlike his usual attire, he is now wearing just a plain white t-shirt with light-washed jeans. “You’re quite the moms’ favorite,” you tease him, earning a soft chuckle from him.

“Saige and Ava like to pull my leg, but I know they mean well.”

“They are great people, I always liked them,” you smile glancing at him.

“I remember when I first met them at a parents’ meeting, they spotted how lost I was among all the moms and asked if I wanted to sit with them. Then Izzy became friends with Yara so we met quite a few times.”

“I find it a little funny we never met while I was working at the daycare. Izzy was in my group for almost a year and we just never ran into each other.”

Harry licks his lips before turning his gaze to you, finishing up the dishes and turning the water off.

“I saw you.” Your eyebrows shoot up. How did you not see him?

“Really?”

“Yeah, just a few times. Mostly it was Ruth who picked up Izzy these past few months. I had a huge project that ended just before you started here, so I didn’t have the chance to pick her up that much. But I saw you a few times. You were just always busy with the kids, I guess… you didn’t notice me,” he shrugs, holding his arms on his chest as he leans against the counter.

“It could get pretty intense sometimes even though it was just a daycare,” you chuckle, remembering to all the tantrums and fussy dramas that happened between the kids. Sometimes it felt more like a high school than a daycare, especially when friends were taken and lovestories happened through lunchtimes.

“Daddy! What are we having for dinner?” Izzy runs into the kitchen, tippy-tapping her hands on the counter that she can barely reach.

“Macaroni and cheese.”

“Yes! Maccy cheese!” Izzy cheers throwing her hands into the air. Harry smiles down at her, ruffling her hair and you can’t push down a smile at what she just called mac and cheese.

Harry starts prepping for dinner, he puts on some music that Izzy dances to and though you try to leave them be and enjoy their alone time, Izzy insists you stay and help as well.

“Izzy, let Y/N do what she wants, this is her day off,” Harry warns her, making her pout her lips at you. Not that you would have said no to her, but now you definitely can’t leave.

“It’s alright. I’m happy to help.”

Izzy sits on the counter in a safe distance from the stove, her duty is to watch the pasta cook while Harry takes care of the sauce and you set the table, knowing it won’t take long for the food to be ready.

“Daddy?” Izzy speaks up, tilting her head to the side.

“Yes, baby?”

“I love Maccy cheese. Does mom like it too?”

Harry’s eyes flicker over to you, as if he is embarrassed you caught a moment that shouldn’t have been revealed and you can tell he is still kind of torn how to handle the mentioning of his late wife. You keep a straight face, making yourself busy with cleaning off the counter top. You wouldn’t want to make him think he can’t talk about Maggie in your presence.

“Um, yeah. Mommy loves mac and cheese,” he nods, giving her knees a little squeeze before moving her off the counter to take care of the pasta.

Your eyes meet Harry’s gaze when you bring some water to the table and you can tell he is still thinking about the slip you just heard, but you give him a soft smile, trying your best to assure him nothing bad happened.

Izzy babbles through dinner about everything she did with Yara and Zac today, excited to see them as soon as possible and Harry promises her to arrange a meeting for them in the park sometime next week. You try to help with cleaning up, but Harry doesn’t let you, so pouring yourself a nice glass of wine you sit in the living room to watch some TV before going to bed. After dinner, Harry takes Izzy upstairs to give her a bath and once that’s done she is allowed to play some more in her room.

Harry joins you soon on the couch with a glass of wine as well, seemingly tired from all the socializing he did. Peeking at him while the evening news is playing on the screen, you notice that he is not even paying attention, deep in his thoughts he is pulling on his bottom lip like he always does whenever he is deep in focus. You have a guess what he is thinking about, but you want to give him the time and space to figure out if he is ready to share or not.

“I, uhh—I never really told you why it’s just Izzy and I,” he speaks up and you turn to him with patience, knowing the importance of him bringing it up. “My wife… Maggie, she… We got married about six years ago and then two years later we had Izzy. She was six months old when Maggie…”

He is struggling to find the words, or to just even think about it and you don’t want him to feel like he has to tell you about any of it.

“Harry, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, I want to. I always feel bad that I don’t talk about her, makes it look like I’m trying to forget about her, but that’s not at all the case, it’s just… hard to think about how long it’s been and I still feel like it was just… last week.”

Harry sniffles and you’re not sure if it’s because he is getting emotional to the point where he is going to start crying or it’s nothing significant, but you feel the urge to assure him about your support. Reaching over you put your hand to his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. His eyes first fall to your hand and then to you, a sense of softness shining back from his green irises as he lets out a shaky breath.

“It was a car accident. She was driving home late night from her sister’s and a drunk driver ran the red light, crashed right into her car. They both were rushed into hospital, but Maggie’s lungs collapsed and she… they couldn’t help her. The guy had surgery and though he broke quite a few bones and had a serious concussion, he survived.”

You have to bite into your bottom lip, already feeling the tears welling in your eyes, but you quickly blink them away. You can only imagine what it’s like to be called and find out your wife was killed because of the dumb mistake of someone else. And to think that Izzy was still so small, Harry was left with a baby and the immense grief so suddenly, it must have been the toughest time he had to go through.

“I’m really sorry, Harry,” you quietly tell him, his eyes flickering up to meet yours and they are glistening from the tears. He just nods, blinking a few times before drinking up his wine.

Before anything else could be said, you hear Izzy running down the stairs, soon throwing herself to the couch, cuddling to Harry’s side.

“Hey baby, want to go to sleep already?” he asks, softly brushing through her hair with his fingers. Izzy nods, blinking sleepily. Harry scoops her into his arms standing up from the couch and he is reaching for his empty glass, but you take it before he could.

“I’ll wash it, don’t worry about it,” you smile at him.

“Thank you,” he breathes out, holding Izzy tight before the two of them disappear upstairs.

You don’t stay out too long yourself either, washing the glasses you let a single tear run down your cheek before quickly wiping it away and heading up to your room.

The past two years you’ve been taking gigs as a photographer more and more, going to weddings, birthday parties, baby showers or anniversaries to snap photos of others’ most precious moments. You are not a professional, nor do you treat yourself as one, but the more events you attended and the more work you put out, the more popular you started to get. Now you have about two bookings every month and you are able to ask for a quite impressive amount of money for a session that people are willing to pay for your pictures.

You’ve been putting off your gigs since you moved into the Styles mansion, wanting to focus on all the changes in your lives, but now that you’ve gotten quite used to your new life one month into it, you are getting back to your usual. This Saturday you’re doing a photoshoot of a soon-to-be-wedded pair who also booked you for their upcoming wedding in a few weeks. It’s kind of an engagement photoshoot since they couldn’t do one when they got engaged months ago, but they didn’t want to miss out on the chance to do one before they official tie the knot.

Harry and Izzy are planning to go to the zoo today, something she’s been begging to do for weeks now and Harry finally gave in, so all three of you are going to be quite busy today. The photoshoot takes place at this fancy, mid-century styled café the couple chose, so you decide to dress up yourself a little too. Putting on a maroon colored pencil skirt that hugs your hips and waist tight, you tuck into it a white silky blouse, making you appear like some kind of eyecandy assistant straight out of a Hollywood movie, especially with your low bun, which is less for the look but more for practicality, since you don’t like it when your hair gets caught in the straps of your camera.

Swinging your camera bag to one shoulder and your handbag to the other one, your camera hanging from your neck, you head downstairs, rushing a little because you’re short on time already. Izzy is sitting on one of the stools at the kitchen island while Harry is packing them some lunch and snacks for the day.

“Oh! Y/N, you look so pretty!” Izzy beams at you when you near the corner. She is dangling her legs playfully, her piggy tails curling adorably on each sides of her head. Harry’s head snaps up and his lips part upon spotting you.

“Thank you, Sunshine,” you smile at her, caressing her cheek, tickling her a little that makes her giggle.

“Where are you going?” she asks curiously.

“Izzy, don’t question her all the time, that’s not too nice,” Harry warns her, but you just shake your head.

“It’s alright. I have a photoshoot today. I have to take pictures of a couple that’s going to get married soon,” you explain to her and Harry’s ears perk up, eyeing the camera that’s hanging from your neck.

“I didn’t know you are a photographer,” Harry hums, closing the cooler.

“Well, I’m not a professional, but I’ve been doing photoshoots here and there.”

“That’s amazing!” he smiles warmly.

“Thanks. Well, I gotta go because I’m running a little late. Have fun at the zoo!” you smile, at them before walking out. You reach the front door but stop for a moment to read the text the bride has sent you letting you know they are running a little late as well. That’s when you hear the conversation between Harry and Izzy coming from the kitchen.

“She looked so pretty!” Izzy sighs. You expect Harry to just hum or ignore her words, but for your surprise, he answers her.

“Yeah, she really does.”

You blush like a teenage girl, feeling your heart fluttering in your chest as you smile, walking out of the house.

The father-daughter duo is still out when you get home later. You make yourself a tea and sit out to the terrace with your computer, starting to edit the photos right away so you can send then over to the couple as soon as possible. They turned out pretty good, you love the colorful vibe the café had and it went well with the pair’s outfits.

You get so into editing that you don’t even notice Harry and Izzy arriving home, just when the sliding door opens and Izzy runs up to you, holding a stuffed animal that appears to be an otter.

“Y/N, look what daddy got me!” she cheers holding up the toy.

“Oh my god, it’s really cute!” You pull her to sit on your lap as she hugs the toy, clearly happy to have a new addition to her already existing army. Harry walks out with a bottle of water and a glass. Joining the two of you at the table, he pours some water for Izzy and makes her drink it.

“We spent an entire hour watching the otters,” he chuckles, brushing Izzy’s hair out of her face as she chugs the water down.

“Can’t blame you, they are really cute,” you chuckle. Izzy puts the empty glass down and hops off your lap before announcing that she is gonna show her new toy around in the backyard before running away from you.

“Are those… the pictures from today?” Harry shyly asks, eyeing your laptop’s screen.

“Oh, yeah. Wanted to get a headstart on editing,” you nod turning it so he can have a better look. “Want to see what I got so far?”

“Of course!” he nods smiling.

You click through the photos you’ve already edited, there are about ten in total and you’re quite satisfied with how they turned out to be.

“Wow, they look… really good, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you smile blushing a little.

“What events do you usually do?”

“Mostly weddings and engagement shoots, birthdays, these kinds of stuff.”

“It’s really amazing,” he nods smiling.

“I… Hope you won’t be mad but I’ve shot a few pictures of Izzy too these past weeks,” you admit, hoping he won’t get upset for you, doing it without his permission. “I didn’t use them anywhere, I wasn’t planning to, I just thought they were nice moments.”

“Oh, can I see them?”

“Of course!”

Opening up the folder you put her pictures into, you start clicking through the few photos you took of her. There’s one of her during her swimming lesson, laughing happily as she holds onto the edge of the pool, her wet locks sticking to her head. Then there’s one when the two of you were baking cupcakes and she got icing all over her face and tried to lick it off, her tongue sticking out on the picture. There are some of her just roaming around the backyard, exploring the bugs hiding in the grass, some of her napping with her favorite stuffed animals on the couch and then the last one was taken when she was jumping in her bed, you caught her up in the air, the widest smile on her face as she was laughing straight into the camera.

“Y/N, these are… wow. They are all so good, I love them!”

“Really?” Your smile grows wide, happy that he likes them.

“Yeah! Do you think… do you think you can send them to me?”

“Of course! I can get them printed for you, if you’d like. There’s a place where I go to get my photos printed, they make them look like they were taken on an analog, old school camera, I love that little extra touch on the pictures.”

“That would be fantastic,” he smiles, clearly in awe of your work.

You spend the rest of the afternoon editing while Harry and Izzy take over the kitchen as usual. When you’re on your way up to your room with your laptop after you decided to call it a day, you catch them in there, Izzy making Harry dance around with her while they are chopping the veggies. Harry is swaying his lips to the rhythm, humming to the song as Izzy is jumping and twirling around, singing from the top of her lungs. Despite the terrible loss of her mother, there’s no doubt Izzy is having the best possible childhood, getting all the love she deserves from her dad and you feel happy you are here to witness them grow together.

You did not see your parents’ divorce coming, probably because it’s been over six years since you’ve moved out and you only saw them every other week at best. You always tried to come around as often as possible, wanting to spend time with Trevor and of course, them as well, but you had to focus on building your own life. You had to worry about your work, your own living space and not much later you started dating Keith so you were pretty busy to say the least. You weren’t there when things started to go downhill, but Trevor was. He had to suffer through every fight and screaming match they had without any support and you’ve always felt guilty about it, but you couldn’t just move back home. However you’ve always tried to do everything you could to support him through these hard times. He knew he could call you anytime he had enough of the spiteful atmosphere at home and you were quick to come to his rescue.

You were mad at your parents, there’s no need to lie about it. But not because of getting a divorce, you knew better than to expect them to suffer in a marriage they weren’t happy in, but the way they handled has always been just… unacceptable. Especially because in the midst of their anger and hatred towards each other they started to forget that they still had a kid living home who had to listen to everything they threw at each other, things no son should ever hear about his parents, no matter if they were true or not.

Being a teenager in high school is stressful enough as it is, but having to deal with your parents’ nasty divorce is just something no teenager should have to go through. Trevor has been dealing with it for a while now and he is trying his best to just shut them out whenever they are going at it, but sometimes it’s not that easy. That’s when he seeks comfort at you.

It’s a Thursday evening when your parents decide to drive Trevor up the wall with their screaming and fighting again. You’re watching a movie with Izzy and Harry in the entertainment room, working on your laptop simultaneously, confirming some photoshoots for the upcoming weekends. Harry has let Izzy play with his hair while watching the movie, so now she is all over her daddy, decorating his hair with little hairclips and hair ties while the man is just sitting there without a complaint.

Your phone starts buzzing on the couch and Trevor’s photo is flashing on the screen. Putting the laptop aside, you grab your phone and walk out of the room not to disturb them with your call.

“Hey!” you greet him happily, but your stomach immediately drops when you hear him draw a shaky breath on the other end of the line. “Trev? What’s wrong?”

“Can I please spend the night at yours?” he pleads weakly.

“What happened, are you alright?” you perk up right away.

“It’s just… dad came over this afternoon and they went at it again and now they are doing it over the phone, mom is like really out of her mind right now. I have a math test tomorrow and I don’t think I can sleep here like this. She is still screaming at him over the phone.”

“I’m leaving right now, pack a bag, alright?”

“Thanks,” he breathes out and ends the call. Rushing back into the entertainment room Harry turns to you while Izzy is still busy with his hair.

“Uh, I know it’s really sudden and all, but my brother just called, would it be fine if he spent the night over here?” Even though Harry himself told you it’s fine to have people over, you still feel like you need to ask for his permission, especially if your guest is planning to stay the night.

“Is he alright? Of course he can come over.” Sitting straight up he asks Izzy to sit down a little which she gladly does, turning her attention towards the movie.

“It’s just, um, our parents are having another scream match. They are… They are in the middle of getting a divorce and they are not handling it right,” you let out a bitter chuckle.

“Oh, I’m sorry about that. Do you need me to come with you? You seem very upset, you sure you can drive?”

“No, it’s alright, but thanks. I’m fine. I’ll be back soon with him and thank you so much for letting him stay,” you breathe out. He just nods with a sympathetic smile before you turn around and leave.

Through the drive over to the house where you grew up your anger just grows with each turn you take. You love your parents to death, they raised you in a quite unusual and hard situation, they had to grow up with you when they had you so young, but they always made sure to give you everything you needed. And you know they have the same kind of love towards Trevor, but their hatred for each other is blinding them and they probably don’t even realize how much it affects him, but you are not letting them ruin everything because they fell out of love. Trevor deserves the same kind of supportive and loving environment to grow up in just like the one you had and there’s nothing that could change that.

Pulling up to the driveway you take a deep breath as you march up to the front porch and use your keys to let yourself in. The shouting hits your ears right away, it’s coming from the kitchen, but Trevor is the first one you spot on the top of the stairs. His hood is on and he has a backpack in his hands as he comes down the stairs with a pained and tired face.

“Hey! Left the car open, go get in there, I’ll be out in a minute,” you softly tell him as you give him a quick hug.

“Thanks,” he mumbles before walking out.

Following your mother’s voice to the kitchen you find her with a half empty bottle of wine, cussing your father out through the phone.

“Go and fuck that bitch you went out to have dinner with last weekend! Yes I know about that!” she spats and you wince at her words.

“Mom!” you call out, but she doesn’t even register your voice.

“Fuck you, Fred! Fuck you!” she continues, so you raise your voice a little more.

“Mom!” This time she finally hears it and turning around she looks at you with wide eyes.

“Y/N! What are you doing here? You didn’t say you were coming,” she adds, her voice soft and weak this time, the anger long gone from it.

“I’m here to pick Trevor up. Put dad on speaker, I want to have a word with you two,” you tell her firmly and she gulps hard, nodding as she sets the phone to the counter, putting your dad on speaker.

“Y/N? What’s going on?” you hear him question from the other end of the line.

“I could ask the same thing!” you snap back, fed up with the way they have been acting. They might have lost a good chunk of their youth because they were busy taking care of you after having at just nineteen, but that doesn’t give them the right to act like literal cavemen in front of your brother.

“Trevor called me all upset, begging me to come and get him. What is wrong with you two? You have been at each other’s throats all the damn time, it is not healthy not just for Trevor but to either of you!”

“Y/N, sweetie, there’s just a lot going on—“ your mother tries to explain, but you cut her off.

“I don’t fucking care! Whatever is going on between the two of you, Trevor should be first! No matter what! He needs you both, he needs the support and love, but he is only getting the screaming and fighting. This is not right!”

“It’s a hard situation, you have to be patient with us, Y/N,” your father sighs over the phone and you can’t hold your ironic laughter back.

“Patient? I’ve been patient with you these past about five months since you’ve been literally tearing each other to pieces. Do yourselves and everyone else a favor and just get it over with. Dad, pick up all your stuff and don’t come here for mom’s sake. Mom, don’t snoop around dad’s life, because it’s not your business anymore. Stop being ignorant and maybe start to think about the kid you still have living near you.”

Your words might have been harsh, but it needed to be said. You can tell by your mother’s shocked expression and from the way your dad is dead silent in the call that your message finally hit them in the head and you hope they are willing to get their shit together so Trevor doesn’t lose his mind.

“Trevor is staying with me tonight, we’ll see when he wants to come back, but you better think about what I just told you,” you warn them before walking out and leaving them to think about their actions finally.

Trevor stays silent on the road back to Harry’s and you don’t try to force him to talk, it’s clear he has had enough for today. Arriving back home you park your car next to Harry’s Range Rover and the two of you walk inside in silence.

It’s past Izzy’s bedtime so you’re not surprised to find only Harry in the kitchen when you walk into the house. Harry seems cautious, almost worried as he spots you and Trevor in the hallway.

“Trevor, this is my boss, Harry. Harry, this is my brother, Trevor,” you introduce them to each other quickly. They shake hands with a manly nod.

“Thanks for letting me stay here tonight,” Trevor clears his throat, feeling a little out of place.

“No worries. Feel free to use any of the guest bedrooms,” Harry smiles softly.

“Oh, we’ll be fine sleeping in my room,” you assure him but Harry shakes his head at your words.

“We have plenty of space. Please, use them!”

“Thank you,” Trevor mumbles and you shoot Harry a thankful look before walking your brother upstairs.

You opt for the room next to yours, Help Trevor get comfortable, making sure he has everything he needs for the night.

“Did you get into a fight with mom and dad?” he asks, when you are sitting on the edge of his bed, about to leave him alone.

“I just told them to get their shit together,” you chuckle, giving his leg a squeeze under the covers. He cracks a smile at you, but it’s not as genuine as it should be. “I’ll drive you to school in the morning. My room is right next to this one, come over if you need anything, alright?”

“Thanks,” he mumbles, pulling the covers up to his chin.

“Good night, Trev,”you tell him switching the lights off and walking towards the door.

“Good night, Y/N,” he calls after you before you close the door, letting out a long breath.

As you make your way down to the kitchen you see that Harry is still there, his eyes snap up to you, filled with concern and worry.

“Everything alright?” he asks as you make yourself a tea.

“Yeah, he was just fed up with the constant screaming. I can’t blame him, my mother didn’t even realize I was there until I raised my voice at her.”

“I’m sorry about that. Must be hard dealing with high school and a nasty divorce.”

“It is,” you sigh. “But thank you for letting him stay, really.” “I meant it when I said it’s just as much your home as it is ours. He can come over anytime, don’t worry about that,” he shrugs.

“Thank you. I’ll drive him to school in the morning, but I’ll be back by the time you leave, is that alright?”

“Of course,” he smiles warmly. “You two look a lot alike.”

“We get that a lot,” you chuckle. “It’s the eyes and nose shape, I think. We got those from our mother.”

“People say I look like my sister too, but I don’t really see it, if I’m being honest,” he chuckles lightly.

“Yeah? Why?”

“No idea,” he shakes his head laughing. “I just don’t see it, but I couldn’t tell you really.”

Sipping on your tea you stay in the kitchen with Harry, the light conversation about his sister and eventually his mother eases the stress that has been gripping on your chest from the encounter you had with your parents earlier. You’re not sure if he tried to talk you through it because he saw how much you needed the distraction or if it’s just how he is, but either way, he really helped you to relax.

Cleaning after yourself the two of you head to bed, saying good night to each other before disappearing in your rooms.

“This place is like… really huge,” Trevor sighs in awe when the two of you are eating breakfast together the next morning.

“I told you, it’s a mansion,” you chuckle, digging into your oatmeal. “I’ll show you around next time you’re here.”

“T’was nice of Harry to let me stay,” he hums.

“Mhm, he is a cool boss,” you smile at him.

“And kinda handsome…” Glancing at Trevor you see the sly smirk on his lips and you give him a stern look.

“Stop right there, alright? No funny thoughts!”

“Funny thoughts?” he laughs leaning back in his seat. “I just made a statement that he is a nice looking man, that’s it. Do you not agree?”

“I’m not commenting on the topic,” you diplomatically answer.

“On what topic?” Harry appears from the stairs, making you both turn his way. “Good morning,” he smiles warmly.

“Morning!” Trevor nods his way before he turns back to you, still smirking. You narrow your eyes at him before answering Harry.

“The topic doesn’t matter. Morning, Harry!”

He pours himself some coffee that you brew earlier before joining the two of you at the dining table. He strikes up a conversation with Trevor, asking him about school and his future plans once he graduates and luckily, Trevor is on his best behavior despite the comment he made earlier, he is not trying to put you into an uncomfortable situation. He knows better, because if he upsets you now, he will not be returning to the mansion, that’s for sure.

“Alright, get your stuff, we are leaving in five,” you tell him when both of you are done eating. Nodding he disappears upstairs as you take care of the dishes quickly.

“Is he staying tonight as well?” Harry asks, following you into the kitchen.

“Oh, no. I’m sure mom wants to talk to him after last night, so it’s better if he goes home.”

“Hope things will get easier for him,” he smiles and you return it, thankful that he let him stay here when he really needed a place for himself.

“Thanks for everything, Harry” Trevor smiles at him when he arrives with his backpack.

“Of course, come back soon, but under more peaceful conditions,” he chuckles nodding in his way.

“I’ll be back soon!” you call out before walking out of the house with your brother.

“So how long have you been crushing on your boss?” Trevor asks in the car and your eyes widen as you try to keep the car straight in the lane.

“Excuse you?”

“Come on, Y/N. It’s kinda obvious, you swoon at everything the man says, haven’t seen you this soft since your high school graduation,” he chuckles, finding your reaction quite entertaining, but you’re not enjoying the situation that much.

“I do not have a crush on Harry,” you shake your head laughing, but you can’t ignore the knot in your stomach at your own words. Was this that big of a lie?

“That’s too bad because I think he has a thing for you too,” he shrugs, carelessly staring out the window, like it’s that casual to discuss you and your boss having possible feelings for each other.

“When did you become an expert on these stuff?” you huff, glancing at him shortly before turning back to face the road.

“I’m not an expert, but I’m not blind either. And I saw the way he looked at you.”

“What way?” you scoff.

“Like he is thankful you are walking this Earth.”

“Did you take this from a rom-com on Netflix?” you tease him, but he just shrugs. “Of course he is thankful, I’m helping him with his daughter. It’s not easy being a single parent and I’m helping him immensely. But there’s nothing else behind that.”

“Sure, good luck convincing yourself,” he sighs when you park the car down at his school. “Thanks for the ride and the night too. I’ll call you later.”

Leaning over the console he gives you a quick hug before hopping out of the car and walking towards the main building.

Arriving back home you find Izzy sitting on the couch with a bowl of cereal on her lap, watching her favorite morning cartoon, but no sign of Harry and for a moment you get scared you got back too late, but then you realize he wouldn’t leave Izzy home alone.

“Hey Sunshine, did you sleep well?” you ask, caressing her rosy cheek as you join her on the couch.

“Mhm, what are we doing today?” she asks, showing a spoonful of cereal into her mouth.

“You have French class today with Lyon and in the afternoon I thought we could learn about otters. You seemed to like them a lot at the zoo.”

“Yes! They are so cute!” she cheers happily just when you hear footsteps coming from the stairs. Turning around you spot Harry walking towards the living room, but your lips part immediately when you see that he is putting on another shirt, his naked chest on display since he hasn’t buttoned it fully. What you saw not long ago from your balcony is now so much closer, the swallows peeking out from under the shirt and you see the little cross pendant hanging between his pecs, something you’ve only seen if he pulled it out of his shirts which didn’t happen that often.

Harry stops in his tracks when he sees you on the couch with Izzy and a blush paints his cheeks.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know you were back,” he breathes out, his fingers working fast on the buttons to get himself presentable again though you wish he would just get rid of the whole thing… “Izzy spilled some juice on me so I had to change quickly,” he explains, finishing with the buttons and he quickly fixes it so he looks just as spotless as always.

“You poured too much into my cup!” Izzy defends herself furrowing her eyebrows at her dad.

“Of course it was my fault, who else’s would have it been?” Harry huffs as he presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Y/N, I have something to ask you.”

“Go ahead.”

“I know it’s pretty sudden and on a very short notice but could you maybe look after Izzy tonight? Niall called me and begged to meet up with him for a few drinks. I would call Ruth, but she is out of town this week.”

“Oh sure! No problem,” you smile at him.

“Are you sure you don’t have anything to do? Don’t feel pressured to say yes, I should have asked in advance, it’s just—“ “Harry, it’s fine. I’m okay looking after her tonight,” you assure him before he talks himself down from letting you do it. “Go have fun, you barely get out of the house without Izzy.” If you’re being honest the only place he goes to without his daughter is work and it’s a little saddening, he deserves some time out from his daddy duties.

“Thank you,” he smiles at you with gratitude. “I won’t be out too long, I promise.”

“No worries, have fun with Niall,” you wave in dismiss.

“Thanks. Have a great day. Be good, baby. I’ll see you in the afternoon.” Harry kisses Izzy’s forehead before grabbing his suit jacket, wallet, keys and phone and heads out to start his day.

“Alright, daddy is off to work and we also have a day ahead of us. Come on, let’s get started,” you smile at Izzy who nods in agreement.

Harry swears he didn’t come home earlier than his usual because he feels bad for asking you to cover the evening, but you know that’s a blatant lie. He is home by three and frees you for the rest of the afternoon, leaving you with about two extra hours. He informs you that he would be leaving around seven, so dinner time will still be his duty, but you’ll have to put Izzy to bed at her usual time, which works perfectly for you.

A little before seven Harry disappears to take a quick shower and get changed before heading out, while you sit out in the living room with Izzy, reading her from a book she chose after dinner.

When Harry returns, he is dressed more casually than he usually does for work, wearing a pair of beige slacks and a black shirt tucked into it, the first three buttons left undone, showing just a hint of his tattooed chest for the viewers.

“Okay, I just called a car, it’ll be here any minute. Please call me if anything happens, I could come home anytime.”

“Harry, I take care of her all day, I’m sure we’ll be fine for one evening as well,” you chuckle, trying to ease his nervousness about leaving his daughter home at a time he is not used to.

“Right,” he lets out a soft chuckle. “Thank you again. And Izzy, be good. Y/N will put you to bed tonight, but I’ll be here in the morning, okay?”

“Okay!” she sings, completely fine with the new arrangement.

“Alright, see you soon, good night!” he calls out on his way out of the house.

Sitting at the rooftop bar, Harry and Niall take up a small table for two near the railing so they have a nice view of the city below them. The waitress brings their order, tequila on the rocks for Harry and a good pint for Niall, and the latter man can’t ignore the fact how pretty she is in her tight white shirt and short black skirt, smiling coyly at the men as she asks if they want anything else.

“We’re good for now, Darling. Thank yeh,” Niall smirks and even winks at the woman, who is seemingly enjoying the attention from him, but deep down she would be happier if it was Harry who was trying to flirt with him. However he is busy on his phone, typing out an email even at this ungodly hour, which pisses his friend off.

“Would you stop being a workaholic prick and maybe glance at the woman that wants to fuck the shit out of you?” Niall snaps at him, grabbing his attention, but he just rolls his eyes.

“That would require my interest as well, which is not there.”

“That’s fucking sad. Really, mate. How long are you going to act like a crybaby? I’m getting tired of your long face. I get it, shit happened, but you eventually have to move on.”

Harry tries to ignore his words, eyes glued to the screen of his phone hoping his friend would just drop it, but that’s not what Niall is like. So instead of leaving him to be, he grabs his phone, snaps it right out of his hands and then shoves it into his pocket.

“Hey! What the fuck?!” he growls at his friend who just gives him a hard look.

“Harry, I’m worried about you. You do nothing, just work and be with Izzy.”

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t spend time with my daughter?” he asks twisting his words.

“You know that’s not what I mean. Spend as much time with her as possible, but don’t forget to take care of yourself.”

“I’m taking care of myself. I sleep and eat well and I workout regularly. I don’t see what else I might need.” “Fuck. You need to fuck,” he points out, making Harry roll his eyes again.

“You know, sometimes I question why we are even friends…” Harry grumbles under his breath as he takes a sip from his drink, feeling like he definitely needs the alcohol if Niall is gonna pick on him all night.

“Because I’m the one who pushes you out of your pit of sorrow, m’friend. And right now I feel like I need to step in, because you are turning into a bitter old man.”

“I’m not bitter,” Harry narrows his eyes at him.

“And neither are you old, so why are you acting like you are?”

“Look, I know that you are a fan of the bachelor life, going to parties, sleeping around with any woman you can get, but that’s just not for me, it never was, not even a long time ago.”

“I’m not trying to get you to act like a frat boy, Har. I know you are too soft for that, but I think it might be time for you to, I don’t know, open up a bit.”

“Open up?”

“Yeah! Go out, meet new people, preferably women,” he adds with a knowing look. “It’s been more than three years, Harry. You can’t stay at home and mope around forever.”

“I really don’t think we should be having this conversation right now.”

“If not now, then when? I tried to talk to you about it many times, but you always just dodged it, so I gave you more time to adjust to the situation, but I think we are over that,” Niall sighs, leaning onto the table. “We both know time flies by. Soon Izzy will go to school, she’ll have her own little life and before you could even blink twice, she is gonna be a teenager, barely talking to you, only caring about some boyband, her friends and shows. The time will come when you’ll have to step back a little and I don’t want you to stay alone.”

“First of all, Izzy is 4 and she won’t be allowed to even think about being independent until she is twenty,” Harry starts off as Niall rolls his eyes at him.

“Yeah, sure. You’ll have an amazing time when she becomes a teenager.”

“Don’t even talk about her being a teenager.”

“It’s going to happen!” Niall snaps and Harry narrows his eyes at him. “Okay, let’s just calm down.” He takes a deep breath even though he is the only one getting mad right now. Harry might feel uncomfortable, but he is not one to lose his temper that easily. Niall on the other hand is known to be a little too passionate at times.

“Alright. Please know that I’m just trying to be a good friend. What happened is tragic and I can’t even imagine what you went through, though I was here all along so I have a slight guess. I’m happy that you are doing vehemently better now, it’s amazing, but I know that you’ll be miserable if you stay single forever.”

“I’m not gonna start dating, Niall. It’s just… too soon. I can’t get into a relationship now.” Harry shakes his head, gulping from his drink again, the alcohol burns down his throat as he grimaces shortly.

“I get it that you don’t want a relationship, but dating might not be that bad. I’m pretty sure there are some hot single moms you know who would love to go out with you for dinner or some shit.”

“I’m not interested in any of them,” he shrugs.

“Then what about Y/N?” Harry’s eyes snap up at his friend, flexing his jaw out of instinct.

“What about her?”

“She is pretty, nice and funny, completely your type. Why don’t you try it with her?”

“She works for me,” Harry replies right away.

“No one fucking cares,” Niall scoffs. “And because you didn’t say that you don’t like her, I assume you are into her.”

Harry lets out a heavy sighs shaking his head. You’ve not been the only one who’s been noticing the other. Ever since he has caught you watching him while doing his morning yoga, he couldn’t shake the thought of you and he took a special notice about a lot of things about you. Like the way you scrunch your nose every time you smile when Izzy says a word wrong, or the way you like to put up your hair into a ponytail when you’re playing with her in the backyard and there’s always a tiny strand that hangs lose at the back of your neck because it’s too short to reach up to the ponytail, but his favorite thing is how your voice is a little hoarse in the morning when you come down for the first time from upstairs. The thought that he is always the first person you talk to in the morning just brings this pleasant feeling into the pit of his stomach, something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

He can’t deny that he finds you beautiful either, how could he not? You’re just a wonderful person inside and out and he is thankful his daughter is in such good hands when he is away at work. But he hasn’t dared to think further than this, his mind just doesn’t let him, however Niall’s words are now poking at the sleeping giant.

“Stop assuming things,” Harry mumbles, looking away from his friend, feeling like he is being grilled.

“Stop denying things,” Niall retorts, earning a huff from Harry. “Okay, don’t ask her out just yet, but try to get closer to her. Become friends, try to open up and get to know her a little more!”

“I don’t want to get closer to her!” he replies, but he can easily point out how big of a lie that is, even though he is trying his best to make himself believe that it’s not.

“So you don’t have a crush on her?” Niall raises his eyebrows at him.

“Where are we, in middle school? I’m 31, I don’t have crushes,” Harry scoffs.

“Okay so then you don’t mind it if I ask her out?”

“You are not asking her out, Niall,” he sternly replies, reaching for his drink once again, that’s nearing its end very closely. He needs to order another one if Niall decides to be an asshole all night.

“Why not? He seemed to like me when we met, I think we both would have a nice evening, might even take her home—“

“Shut up, Niall. You are not going out with her!”

“Really? What’s stopping me?” he smirks, knowing well what he is doing and where this is heading. Harry opens his mouth, but then no words come out, because he realizes what he wanted to say should not be said out loud.

Because I like her, a tiny voice tells him in his mind. Niall’s smirk grows even bigger, because even though Harry didn’t answer, his face tells it all, confirming what he has been trying to force out of him all evening.

“Yeah, just as I thought,” he laughs, taking a few gulps from his beer. “I’m not telling you to fuck her brains out immediately, but it might be nice if you just got to know her a bit more. And if things seem to take, like… a turn, if you know what I mean, don’t chicken out, just go with it.”

“You know, Niall, you should worry about your own love life the way you worry about mine.”

“There’s nothing to worry about!” He beams, clearly without a worry. “I’m too good of a catch to be tied down, so I’m enjoying life to the fullest right now.”

“Aren’t you tired of waking up next to a different woman every morning?” Harry sighs, feeling exhausted just to think about the way his friend lives.

“Don’t judge for something you never tried. I like it, it fulfills all my needs, why should I change?”

“Because you worry about me ending up alone when it’s most likely gonna be you.” Harry gives him a look, but it doesn’t seem to affect him. He shrugs it off easily.

“Difference is that I like being alone, but you don’t. You are wired to have a partner in the long run while I’m perfectly fine with my adventures. So do me a favor, and be less of a little hermit. You’ll thank me later.”

Niall’s words stick to Harry’s head more than he would have liked it. The two friends stay at the bar until about midnight and while Harry leaves to go straight home, Niall heads to another direction with the pretty waitress on his arm, who served their drinks relentlessly all night.

Arriving back home Harry tips the driver generously before heading inside, seeing that you’re still up, the lights in the living room and the TV illuminating the area. Walking further inside he spots you cozied up on the couch, a thick blanket thrown over yourself as you watch some kind of detective documentary, chewing on your bottom lip in focus. He can’t help the smile that tugs on his lips at the sight of you, taking just a split second to savor the moment and wrap it up in his mind.

“Hey, why are you still up?” he questions walking inside. Your eyes tear away from the screen, blinking up at him as you smile slightly, pushing yourself up into a sitting position. Rounding the couch Harry joins you, sitting down as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Got caught up a little,” you chuckle, nodding your head towards the TV. “Did you have a good time?”

“As much as it’s possible to have a good time with Niall around,” he chuckles, making you smile.

“He is not that bad, is he?”

“He can be a little asshole sometimes,” he admits. “But it was fine, we had a nice… talk.”

“I’m glad,” you smile sheepishly, before turning back to the TV.

Harry’s eyes snap to the screen as well, but he is not following the case at all, his mind is busy thinking about everything Niall has told him.

It really has been three long and torturous years without his beloved wife and just as Niall said, the beginning of this time was almost lethal. He never thought there would be a day when he would wake up and not feel like curling up into a ball and just cry all day. Those times are now gone, because with a lot of help from his friends, family and even a therapist, he was able to find his purpose in life again: his daughter.

Harry knows that his friend is right, he can’t live his life on his own, that’s just not how he is built, but it’s not as easy as it seems. Especially with the haunting thoughts he has been harboring, kept away from everyone in his life, because he has always been too afraid to say them out loud. That would make them become even realer than they already feel to him.

Sitting on the couch next to Harry you glance at him for a second and can almost see the gears turning in his head.

“Everything alright?” you softly ask. His green eyes flicker over to you, as if he is debating whether he should talk or not.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” you nod.

“But it’s kind of personal.”

“Okay, then ask and I’ll decide if I want to answer or not,” you chuckle softly, pushing yourself up a little so you can focus on him better.

“After things ended with your… ex, when you found out that he was cheating on you… How long did it take you to get back out to the field, if you know what I mean.”

His question surprises you, it really is a personal matter and you’re not sure why he felt the need to ask you about it especially now, but you have a guess why it’s relatable for him. You lost someone you loved and though the situation is a very different nature, somehow it’s still similar in a way.

“Well, I told you earlier that it was the kind of situation where I blamed myself for what he did,” you start off and Harry nods, patiently and curiously listening to what you are saying. “I was convinced that he cheated because I wasn’t enough, because I didn’t give him everything he wanted and that it was all my fault. It took me weeks to see clearly and realize that even if I wasn’t giving him everything, it wouldn’t have given him the right to cheat on me. Sometimes it’s really hard to lift the blame off yourself, especially when you were the one putting it there.”

Harry’s lips part at your words and because he is not speaking, you’re not sure if it’s the good or bad kind. You really wish you could just read his honest thoughts, but it seems like he is keeping them to himself so you continue.

“I think it took me a good, like… four months to actually move on. I went on a date for the first time about six months after Keith and I broke up. I’m not saying I’m over the fact that I was cheated on, but it’s not stopping me anymore to live my life. I had to accept that just because of what happened, I still deserve happiness and to be loved.”

Love is a beautiful thing, but it’s very powerful and you learned it the hard way. To love and be loved is essential, love makes life so much better and more special, but it can also scar you terribly and leave you dried out and in pain. You have to learn to accept the love you get and remember it whenever you are not getting enough. It’s a rollercoaster, but the highs make the whole ride worth it.

Harry stays silent as you turn your attention back at the TV, seeing that he is busy chewing on your words. Whatever his reason was to ask you, he is clearly processing the answer he got, making his own conclusions and you wouldn’t want to bother him while he does that.

The documentary soon ends and you realize how late it really is. Saturday is your day off, but you don’t want to sleep through the whole thing, you have a few errands to run. So switching the TV off you fold the blanket and drop it into the basket next to the couch. Harry snaps out of his thoughts when you stand up from the couch, realizing that you’ve shut the TV off already.

“I’m going to bed, you should too,” you smile at him softly as he nods, standing up as well.

You’re already on the stairs when Harry calls out after you. Turning around you keep one foot on the next step, glancing over at him, still standing by the couch.

“I’m… I’m really sorry he couldn’t appreciate you.”

You smile at him warmly, because it says so much about him as a person. Apologizing for something he had absolutely no control over, something someone else did, someone he doesn’t even know. Yet he still felt the need to say sorry.

“It’s alright. I’ll find the person who’ll give me the love I deserve,” you tell him before turning back around and walking away.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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