#I might ask her if she ever wants to reconnect on a phone call sometime though.

[itspileofgoodthings]

How did you first start listening to Taylor Swift? You're the one who introduced me to her when Lover came out—thank you for that!!

aww I love that!! Lover is such a great one to be your first Taylor album too—so much range. Happy four years of you being a Taylor fan! 💜💜💜

So, my long-time pen-pal sent me Fearless for my 14th birthday. She actually burned me a cd and then made me a personal lyric book with a birthday note from her in the front 😭😭😭 and that was a personal enough gift to make me fall in love with any artist but especially because it was Taylor it was just an instant blaze of me loving her so much (but also, because I’m me not knowing or understanding who I was loving or why until years later.) (But I mean, I guess that’s also being 14.)

That was the Fall of 2009 and I was a freshman in high school!

[lordperceval-16]

Come Light Me Up

Max Verstappen x Sophie Russell (OC)

Sophie Russell is taking a break from her life in the US and travelling the world with her brother on the F1 circuit. Things get a bit more complicated when she reconnects with one Max Verstappen.

~Bahrain ~

"Oh sorry Sophie, I didn't think anyone would be up here."

Sophie turned around and smiled when she saw Max standing in the doorway, the light behind him shining out into the darkness.

"It's alright," she replied, "wouldn't mind a bit of company to be honest."

He came to stand beside her and rested his arms on the railing, looking out over the city below. They stood in silence for awhile, Sophie analysing the brooding look on his face.

"Sorry your race went shit today," she murmured, and he couldn't help but laugh at her bluntness.

"Gee thanks. I'm surprised you're not off celebrating your brothers' podium," he commented, his brows furrowing.

"Yeah I was but..." Sophie sighed, her head down, "guess I still haven't quite adjusted to the timezone."

"Why do I get the feeling that's not the whole truth?" He pushed, his gaze settling on her with curiosity.

"Aren't you observant," she snorted, glancing sideways at him before her shoulders slumped slightly on defeat, "but yeah, you're right, it's not the timezone really."

"Care to share?" He queried, nudging her elbow with his.

"Sure you actually care to listen to my ridiculously boring melodrama?" She quipped back, eliciting a laugh from him.

"Try me," he grinned, "maybe I'm in the mood for melodrama."

"You definitely have better options for your night than listening to me," she insisted.

"Look you don't have to tell me if you're not comfortable with it," he assured her, "but something's clearly up and if you need a friendly ear then I'm here."

"Well I..." she started, looking down again, "I love George and Carmen, in fact she's like a sister to me, but since I've come home I just...I dunno. Of course I'm so happy they have each other but...sometimes seeing them makes me feel...."

"Lonely?" He guessed, and she nodded her agreement.

"Yeah," she murmured, "I was with someone for three years before it all went tits up, and now I feel...a little lonely yeah."

"That's pretty shit," he replied plainly, "but I get it. It can be hard being the single one at the party.

"Wow," she snickered, "such insightful points you make."

"It's a gift," he laughed, "but seriously, if you ever need any more very insightful points then I'd be happy to listen to more of your melodrama sometime."

"Cheers," she chuckled, pushing herself away from the railing, "Careful though or I might just take you up on it sometime."

"I'll be waiting by the phone," he teased.

"Oh I'm sure you'll be glued to the screen" she quipped back, "I better get some sleep, we fly out fairly early in the morning."

"Wouldn't want that jet lag to make you late for your flight," he grinned.

"Ah yes, the jet lag," she deadpanned, rolling her eyes, "I'll see you around Max."

"Hey Sophie?" He called after her, "its nice to see you at race weekends again. Reminds me of the old days."

"Aha yeah," Sophie laughed, "those were the days. If only everything could be as simple now as it was then."

"It'll get better," he assured her quietly.

"Here's hoping anyway," she sighed before waving goodnight to him and leaving the rooftop. 

~Imola~

"We have got to stop meeting up like this."

Max looked up and huffed out a laugh when he saw Sophie sliding down the wall to sit beside him.

"What brings you here?" He asks, leaning his cheek against the cool wall and giving her his full attention.

"Well," she sighed dramatically, mirroring his position,"George and his mechanics are buzzing around the garage and it all got a bit too frantic for me so I stepped out to get a breather. I didn't want to get in the way or distract him before quali."

"That's fair," he chuckled, "things can get a bit chaotic in the garages."

"I have to wonder what you're doing here, hiding by yourself," she stated, "shouldn't you be holed up with Horner in a corner of the garage scheming up how you can pip Charles to pole?"

"Oh hawhaw," he deadpanned, sticking his tongue out at her, "you Mercedes fangirls love to paint us as the villains don't you."

"A fangirl?" She balked, bringing her hand to her chest, "never been so insulted in my life."

"I'll add it to my growing shelf of awards," he teased, grinning wider when she rolled her eyes.

"You're so full of shit," she scoffed, but she couldn't hide her amused grin.

"See I know you don't mean that," he smirked, nudging her with his elbow before pulling himself up from the ground, "I better head back to the garage, make sure our evil scheme is ready to go. I'll see you around Sophie."

"Hey Max," she called as she stood herself, a genuine smile on her face, "probably shouldn't be saying this to the enemy but...good luck, I hope your quali goes...moderately well."

"Gee thanks," he snickered, "I'll know who to thank if I get pole."

As Sophie walked through the paddock later that evening she was stopped by a hand on her elbow.

"Thanks for the good luck wishes," he murmured in her ear, "we'll have to make it a regular thing."

"Oh you are such an insufferable twat," she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"You don't mean that," he teased as he backed away from her, a cheeky grin lighting up his face. Sophie shook her head as she left him, but she couldn't ignore the excited little flutter in her stomach at the prospect of their meetings being a regular thing.

~Barcelona~

"Suppose congratulations are in order today," Sophie called from her spot leaning against the Mercedes motor home.

Max turned and grinned when he saw her there, sauntering over to her and leaning against the wall beside her.

"Wow thanks Sophie," he sniggered, "next time try it with feeling."

"Best I can do I'm afraid," she sighed dramatically, "as a Mercedes fangirl its my duty to be disdainful when you beat us, especially when you beat George."

"Aw I know you don't mean that Sophie," he pouted, "but it's OK, you obviously can't admit that you're actually a proud member of the orange army."

"Clearly the heat on track has gotten to your head," she snorted, shaking her head at him fondly.

"Don't worry," he whispered, leaning in to her ear, his breath tickling her neck, "it'll be our little secret."

Sophie felt butterflies erupt in her stomach at his whispered words. If she turned her head even slightly then her nose would brush against his. She couldn't deny her attraction to him, couldn't deny just how tempted she was to turn her head and see what he would do.

"Hey Soph you ready to...oh, hi Max."

Sophie's head whipped around as George walked out of the motor home, his eyes flickering between the two of them suspiciously.

"Hi George," Max said cheerily, stepping away from Sophie and hoping it wasn't too obvious, "I need to head to the motor home and shower so I'll see you both around."

Sophie waved goodbye and watched him go, her neck prickling with the weight of her brother's gaze on her.

"You and Max looked mighty friendly," he commented as he stepped up beside her, "when did that become a thing?"

"It's not a thing," she insisted, crossing her arms as she finally turned to face him, "we're just friends."

"Is it me you're trying to convince or yourself?" George teased lightly,  raising an eyebrow at her.

"Oh shut the hell up," Sophie scoffed, "now c'mon let's get out of here and get dinner, I'm absolutely starving."

~Miami ~

Wanna play Mario kart?

Sophie huffed out an incredulous laugh when the Instagram DM from Max popped up on her screen.

Sure, what's your room?

She twiddled her thumbs as she waited for a reply, which thankfully didn't take too long to come through.

714 :)

Sophie swung her legs over the side of the bed and stretched her arms above her head, groaning in satisfsction when she felt the pop. She quickly slid on her shoes and grabbed her phone and purse before bolting out the door and heading for the elevator. As she waited for the lift to go up she checked her appearance in the mirrored wall, quickly taking down her messy bun and making it a little bit neater. She rapped on the door of 714 twice, starling back a little at how quickly it opened.

"You came," he breathed, almost as though he was surprised.

"Well while I did have some good offers," she mused as she stepped in and placed her things on the table, "I thought Mario Kart would be considerably more fun than any of those."

"Wow, I'm so flattered," he deadpanned, though he couldn't surpress his grin for too long, "now I'm dying to know which character you'll pick. My bets on Yoshi for sure."

"Well I hate to disappoint you," she replied as she picked up the remote and jumped onto the couch, "but it's Waluigi or bust."

"A woman of taste," he said, bowing dramatically before joining her on the couch, "this should be interesting."

"Oh sweetie," she sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder, "you may be the formula one world champion, but I'm going to absolutely destroy you at this."

"Oh is that right?" He quipped, raising an eyebrow in challenge, "well we'll see about that. Best of three?"

"You're on," she grinned.

"You cheated!" She exclaimed after their third grand prix came to an end, "you pushed me off the track at the last turn and put me in reach of the flowers, that's absolutely cheating."

"You're just mad cause you didn't think of it," he smirked, leaning back on the couch and shrugging his shoulders, "but it's alright, not everyone can be a world champion."

"Oh you are so full of it," she huffed, dumping her control on the table and hugging the couch cushion to her chest, a pout on her face.

"Aw don't be a sore loser Sophie," he teased, batting his eyelashes at her, "its just a game." Before she could think too much about it she swung the cushion in her hand and hit him square in the face with it.

"Really?" He asked incredulously, "did that make you feel better?"

"Yes actually," she smirked, before swinging the cushion again. This time he was ready for her though, and grabbed the cushion from her hands before it could make contact.

"Don't start another competition you can't win," he warned, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"What makes you think I won't win?" She challenged. Max made her no answer, and when she realised what was about to happen it was too late and the cushion had already slammed into her face.

"Oh its so on," she stated, grabbing the other cushion as she jumped from the couch and dodged his next blow. They raced around his suite for what felt like hours, trading blows and laughing like maniacs.

"Alright that's it," he threatened after a particularly harsh blow. Sophie huffed out a squeal as he tackled her around the waist and her back bounced onto the soft bed. She gasped for breath through her laughter, her heart pounding in her chest from the exertion. When she opened her eyes she found herself nose to nose with Max, who was staring back at her intently. His gaze flickered almost imperceptibly to her lips and her heart raced impossibly faster.

The spell was broken by the blaring of his ringtone. He groaned as he stood up and plucked his phone from the nightstand, answering it with gruff 'yes?'.

Sophie stood from the bed and straightened herself out, clearing her throat and ignoring the fluttering in her chest. When she looked up again he was hanging up the phone and watching her warily, as though she were a cornered animal.

"I had a lot of fun," she said quietly after an awkward beat, "certainly beat sitting on my own watching hallmark movies."

"Yeah me too," he agreed, his face softening, "probably the most fun I've had in awhile."

"Well I won't lie I probably would have had more fun if you hadn't cheated," she commented breezily, and suddenly the weird tension between them was no more. "Next time its all out war."

"I'm shaking just thinking about it," he teased. Sophie rolled her eyes and stepped closer to him, a small smile on her face.

"I better get to bed," she sighed, "rematch soon yeah?"

"Absolutely," he nodded, his heart thudding when she wrapped her arms around his neck in a hug. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek on her shoulder, his heart thudding so loudly in his chest he was sure she'd feel it.

"Night Max," she murmured as she stepped back and headed for the door.

"Night Sophie," he called after her, a content smile on his face.

~Monaco~

"Hey Sophie, want another drink?"

"Sure," she grinned, "I'll come with you."

Max led the way around the dancefloor to the crowded bar at the other side of the room. He had no problem muscling his way to the front of the crowd, but Sophie struggled to get through. She smiled gratefully when Max took her hand in his and pulled her to the front with him. He didn't let go once she'd settled beside him, and her heart fluttered at the feel of his hand in hers.

"Oh I love this song," she grinned as she finished your drink and a remix of 'Into You' blared drom the speakers.

"Come on then," Max suggested, downing his drink before grabbing her hand and dragging her to the dancefloor. He rested his hands on her waist and swayed their bodies in sync with the music. As the baseline began to rise her eyes met his and her heart felt like it was trying to escape from her chest. His face was so close to hers that their noses were almost touching, and when the lights flashed she could see the glint of want in his eyes and knew it was a look she wouldn't forget.

As the chorus dropped she threw all caution to the wind and pressed her lips against his desperately. He pulled her flush against his chest, his hands on her back holding her there. She felt like her body had been electrified, every inch that was pressed against Max feeling like it was on fire.

"Why don't we go somewhere more private," he murmured against her lips, and she couldn't surpress a shiver. She nodded in response, and he wasted no time in grabbing her hand and leading her through the club and out the front door.

"Where are we going?" She asked as he led her down the street. He stopped and turned to look at her, a vulnerable look taking over his face.

"Oh well I was thinking we could go to mine since it's so close," he started, rubbing the back of his neck, "but if I've misunderstood this then we can absolutely just...."

"No," she giggled, shaking her head and pressing another kiss to his cheek, "you haven't misunderstood anything. I was just asking."

"Oh," he laughed, "well then yeah, my place is nearby so we can go there."

"Lead the way," she grinned, "I'll text George and let him know I've left and that I'm OK."

"He's not going to murder me is he?" Max joked as they continued down the street.

"He's probably too drunk to even notice I've left," Sophie snorted. As they walked their hands brushed against each other, and Sophie couldn't fight her smile as he took her hand in his and swung them back and forth.

"So," he said awkwardly as they entered his house, "do you want a drink or..."

Sophie cut him off with a firm kiss, backing him up against the wall and pressing her body flush against his. "I didn't come home with your for drinks Max," she stated, pressing breathy kisses along his jaw, "so why don't you show me where your bedroom is and we can tour the kitchen in the morning."

"Who am I to argue with that?" He laughed before kissing her with renewed enthusiasm. He wrapped his arms around her waist and began to steer her down the hallway to his room, his lips never leaving hers.

[sgtcalhouns]

Undone

I didn’t wanna live without you

I didn’t wanna love without you

I used to think I’d die without you, now it’s killing me

That we can be undone

Felix and Tamora’s friendship is off to a strong start when an unexpected conversation stops them in their tracks. (part of the fresh start series. angst ahead. enjoy!)

“Vanellope’s been talking about you nonstop,” Felix said. “If it’s alright with you, I told her I would try to set up another phone call while I’m here.”

“Of course it’s alright,” Tamora replied as she shrugged out of her jacket. “We can call her right now.”

Felix nodded and removed his own jacket before following Tamora to her couch. They had just returned from their first official outing as friends, and despite a few awkward bumps, he was thrilled to say that it had gone well. It seemed as though all his worries had been for nothing; they were more than capable of handling friendship like mature adults. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Ralph’s number.

“Hey, brother,” he said. “Would you mind putting Vanellope on? I’ve got someone here who wants to talk to her.”

He nudged Tamora with his elbow and smiled before passing his phone to her.

“Hey, cadet,” Tamora said with a grin. “How’s it going?”

He could hear the explosion of excitement on the other end of the call and put his hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter. Once the pair settled into their conversation, he quietly excused himself to use the restroom. 

As he washed his hands, he could hear Tamora’s laughter through the door. The sound pierced right into his heart, and he had to stop himself from swooning. He told himself it was merely because he was so happy to see his two best gals reconnect after all this time. Back when he and Tamora were together, she fit right into their makeshift family, and he missed those days more than anything. 

He dried his hands and stepped out of the bathroom, and his smile faltered. He could sense that the tone of the conversation had shifted; Tamora’s brows were furrowed as she listened to Vanellope speak.

“I’m sorry,” Tamora said. “If I’m being honest, I wasn’t sure you still wanted to talk to me after things didn’t work out between Felix and I.”

Felix felt his heart drop. He had purposely avoided talking to Vanellope about their breakup because he didn’t want his hurt feelings to cloud the girl’s perception of Tamora. There was another pause as Vanellope spoke.

“It’s not always that simple,” Tamora sighed. “Sometimes the decision that’s best for everyone isn’t the one we want to make. That doesn’t mean I ever stopped caring about all of you. I’m sorry I ever made you feel that way.”

As the girls wrapped up their conversation, Felix felt as though his heart might stop. Everything he thought he knew about the end of their relationship unraveled before him, and he knew there was no way he could ignore what she had just said. He had replayed their last phone call in his mind countless times since their breakup, and he knew for certain that he had asked her outright if she was sure she wanted to end their relationship. The moment she replied “yes” was pivotal for him; it was the moment he had forced himself to return to every time he thought about calling her to beg for another chance.

Tamora hung up the phone and noticed him standing outside the bathroom.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Did you mean what you just said?”

“Of course I did.”

“So… So you didn’t really want to break up when we did?”

A wave of understanding overcame her as she realized what this was really about.

“Felix, please don’t do this.”

“Answer the question,” he said, eyes glassy. “Please. I need to know. I deserve to know.”

Tamora hesitated. There was a reason they had never had this conversation, and she wasn’t sure she was prepared for the outcome tonight. Finally, she sighed, speaking softly as she tried to keep the conversation calm.

“You were spending hours in the car every weekend. You were running yourself into the ground,” she explained. “I could see how exhausted you were but you wouldn’t stop. I was worried you were going to end up hurting yourself.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, genuine confusion in his voice. “When you broke up with me, I hadn’t seen you in weeks. I wasn’t able to come see you because you were busy with work.”

A flash of guilt passed over her eyes and he suddenly realized the truth.

“...You weren’t really busy.”

It was quiet for a moment as Felix processed this news. He had spent the last three years working through their breakup, and now it felt as though he was starting all over again. Too many emotions were swirling in his mind: he was hurt that she hadn’t trusted him with the truth, angry that she had lied to him, but at the forefront of his mind he was embarrassed that he had believed her in the first place. His voice was quiet and fragile when he spoke again.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would you have listened?”

Felix balked at the question.

“How can you ask me a question like that? We’ll never know what might’ve happened because you never gave me a chance to do anything,” he said, his voice rising in volume. “Instead of telling me how you felt, you just gave up on us. As soon as it was time to have a tough conversation, you ran.”

“You’re not being fair.”

“I’m not being fair? You ended our relationship without ever telling me what went wrong. I asked you, Tamora. I asked you if breaking up was really what you wanted, and now I feel like a fool for believing you when you said yes. I don’t want to talk about what’s fair,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me how you really felt when you broke up with me?”

“Because I knew you would do this, you would try and fight me on it. I did what was best for you.”

“What’s best for me? I’m not a child. I can make those decisions for myself.” His anger bubbled to the surface and his voice increased in volume. “I had already made my choice to put in the work to be with you because I loved you. If you weren’t being honest with me, then you took the choice away from me.”

“What does it matter? It doesn’t change anything.”

“It changes everything! I wanted to fight for you, for us. But I didn’t, because you told me it was what you wanted. The only comfort I had for a long time was the knowledge that you were happy. That you got what you wanted.”

Now it was Tamora’s turn to fall silent in order to process an earth-shattering piece of new information. Felix had been so accepting of her decision to break up that she had always assumed there was a part of him that had been looking for a way out. She never realized that he was only giving her the space he thought she wanted, and she truly never knew he had been this unhappy about it.

“Don’t you understand? I wanted to leave as soon as possible to come see you, to change your mind,” he said. His voice was strained with emotion. “But when you told me it was what you wanted, I didn’t want to make things any harder than they already were. Your answer to that one question is the only reason I stayed home instead of coming straight to your door to fight for you. And we both know that if I had come to see you in person, there’s a good chance we would still be together today.”

“What makes you say that?” she asked, shocked by the firmness of his accusation.

“Because I know you, Tamora,” he answered. “I would have taken one look at you and known without a doubt that you still loved me. You wouldn’t have been able to lie to me like you did on the phone.”

Tamora was stunned by his accusation, but even more surprised by the accuracy with which he had just seen through her. There was a part of her that wanted to bring the moment to a halt, to argue that he couldn’t possibly know how she felt. The confidence of his statement alone was enough to ruffle her feathers—so smug, so sure of himself as he peered into her soul and spoke on what he found there. He had reached in and pulled out a feeling she thought she had buried deep enough that it could never be found again. How was it so easy for him to identify her emotions when she had spent so long hiding them from even herself?

Deep down, she knew he was right. She had never stopped loving him, no matter how much she tried to deny it. Even her decision to leave him was steeped in love; she cared about him too much to let him waste so much of his time and energy on her. He shouldn’t have been spending every free moment trying to find a way to come see her, he should have been out living his life. The only way to set him free was to cut him loose.

“Felix, I’m sorry. It’s not like I planned to lie to you,” she said.

“Yes, you did,” he said, his voice strangely calm. “Because you knew that if you told me the truth that I wouldn’t let you end our relationship that way. For whatever reason you had already decided I was better off without you, and you didn’t want to have that conversation with me. So you lied. Right?”

Once again, he had managed to cut right to the heart of the issue. Tamora stared at him with wide eyes, stunned by his perceptibility. She had never admitted any of this to herself, and his words sent her reeling. She didn’t have an answer for him, but Felix saw the guilt in her eyes.

“You don’t have to say it. One look at you and I can see the answer clear as day,” he said with a sniffle. He hurriedly put on his jacket and headed for the door. “I don’t know why I expected you to have an honest conversation with me about it this time.”

“Felix, wait—”

“Goodnight, Tamora.”

He was out the door before she could stop him. She couldn’t find it in herself to move from where he had left her as the weight of their conversation came crashing down on her. In all the years she had known him, she had never seen Felix so angry and hurt. He had always been the one to remain calm and talk her off the ledge, and she hadn’t been able to do the same for him tonight. She never thought the day would come where she would have to.

Worst of all, she couldn’t even blame him for his anger. He was right about everything. She had lied to him, and that couldn’t be undone.

[cordismachinae]

January 8th | Weather: Light Smog▪︎12°C▪︎Wind 1 km/h | Vibe: Groggy

I opened my eyes before I knew I was reconnected. Normal, since I couldn’t usually feel it. It was day already, and dad was smiling at me. He said something I couldn't process yet, so I didn't respond. The residuals my body sent me were faint. Probably because I was already falling asleep when I was disconnected, and I usually don’t dream.

"So, I figured something out you might like." Dad told me once I was back together mentally. I still couldn’t respond verbally. He continued: "I figured out a new algorithm that might finally make it possible for you to be connected externally."

I stared at him. He smiled. Marie walked out of her room and towards the kitchen while I tried to get my mouth to make noises. "... I can go outside soon?" Dad nodded.

Marie laughed and joked "Does that mean you can finally get it out of the living room?"

Dad seemed mad about that. He usually was when she called me 'it'. "Yes, Marie. Your sister might be able to leave." He left shortly after making sure I was fully awake and working, but he didn’t tell us why.

She was eating cereal when she sat on the couch. She took over the screen again, before I could even get to watch something I wanted to. So instead I took her pz and browsed the internet. Weird: she didn't complain.

Dad was out most of the day, so she probably wanted me to have it so I'd stay quiet. So I spent the day curled up next to her on the couch poking around on the pz screen. I learned where pzs came from. They're an evolution of old 'smart phones', pz being some weird brand name corruption of 'portable screen' or something. I tried to tell Marie this but she got mad and told me to shut up but when I apologized she got more mad and said it again. And then she threw a pillow at my face. Normal.

Dad came in sometime when the smog outside was changing color like it did when the sun was going down. He had a weird box with a strap on it, and dangling from it was the same sort of cord I had jammed into my side. He walked over and turned off the screen Marie was watching, so she took her pz back without asking.

"Here it is Laire, your new system. You might be disconnected for a while as it calibrates. Do you want to do it now?"

I didn't know what to say. I was excited so I said yes, before I could get afraid.

Being disconnected while my body is live is strange. When I’m back, the residuals are like a dream I just woke up from, but my body knows it did them. This wasn't as long as dad made it sound. He plugged the box into my body and the box into my cord and after probably an hour (I could barely tell) I was live again.

I looked down as dad unplugged my old cord with a sharp shot of panic, worried it might not work. But I stayed connected. It didn't even feel different.

Dad smiled bigger than I've ever seen and stood up before leading me to the door. I couldn't even make it to the kitchen before, and now I was walking through it, past it. It felt weird. Dad opened the door and helped me out onto the balcony. The air was moving slightly, like when it came through an air vent? But it smelled weird. And I heard further, the sounds of stuff I never heard. I walked up and put my hands on the railing like I saw dad and Marie do. My heart was pounding, I was smiling so big. I was outside!

"Congrats." I spun to see my sister leaning against the sliding glass door, I smiled so big at her she couldn't help hut laugh. Dad was watching me, but... something seemed bad. Something was wrong. Not this, something else. But then I heard something! I spun back around--birds!

I was out there for hours before the sun fully set and I saw the distant lights of other buildings give the hazy air a gentle glow. Dad made me come back inside and I sat on the couch, not worrying about tangling up the cord and accidentally disconnecting myself. The box was strapped under my shirt, and the cord barely even dangled. We all celebrated until we were all too tired to stay up, but before they went to bed dad made sure to tell me something.

"Laire, you have to actually eat and sleep now you know. You can't draw from the house any more, you have to make your own energy. It’s been optional before, but your body will make you now. Okay?"

I told him I understood. Marie teased me about that, saying I couldn’t be so lazy and so I teased back because I was feeling good. But I said something bad, I think. Marie got mad and I didn't know what to say and then she jumped forward and I felt her touch near the cord and--

I don’t remember. There weren't even residuals. It felt like weeks and seconds and forever and instantly when I was reconnected. I couldn't think. I thought I asked “How long was I out for” or something but all my words sounded bad, and neither of them could understand what I was trying to say. I was dizzy, I tasted that I bit my tongue, I felt my heart spinning out of control. I was convulsing I think.

Marie looked so scared and dad looked so mad. He yelled at her about how if I'm suddenly disconnected now it might cause permanent damage because it's a different less stable system or something. She mumbled something I couldn't process before rushing into her room. I think she started crying, I can't remember. Mostly I think I was still reconnecting? Usually it was faster. Bad.

Dad helped me lay down on the couch and he put on a show for me, and after a few episodes I felt much better. I barely noticed as my body stated to feel more and more tired. Tired. Not normal. Good!

I drifted into real sleep and dreamed about birds. And about something terrible happening to dad. And about Marie crying.

The first dreams I can remember.

[alotofpockets]

Her necklace | Yelena Belova

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Platonic!Reader

Summary: After Natasha's death Yelena started wearing her necklace. When she loses it, it's like she lost the last piece of her sister. You help your sister in law try to find it.

Word count: 1010

Warnings: sadness, loss of Natasha (past).

masterlist | requests: closed | taglist

A ding from your phone takes your concentration off of your current task. You check the screen and see it’s a message from Wanda.

Wanda: Hey y/n, can you call me as soon as you get this?

You pick up your phone to call immediately. “Hey Wands, what’s up?” You say a bit concerned because her text sounded urgent. “Hey y/n, I wasn’t sure if you’d be at work or not.” Once you reassure her that you’re just doing some house chores she goes on. “ I was wondering if Yelena spent the night at your place?”

“She didn’t, is everything okay?” You reply. “I’m not sure. No one saw her come home last night and she wasn’t at the team meeting this morning. I was hoping she came to you, we’re worried about her. Any idea where she might be?” Wanda explains the situation. You think for a bit before saying, “I might know somewhere. I’ll go check right now, keep me updated? Bye Wands.”

You hang up the phone and grab your keys to leave, within a couple minutes you were out of the door and into your car.

After your wife Natasha had sacrificed herself to save the world you and Yelena grew closer through your loss. Together you would spend hours at her grave. Sometimes you’d sit there in silence and other times you told each other stories of your time with Natasha. Yelena would share things about their childhood, and you told her stories from when you were together, in the time before her and Natasha had reconnected.

So, that’s where you might find her. Once you walk onto the cemetery where Natasha was buried you see a figure at her grave. You send a quick text to Wanda.

You: I found her. Walking up to her now, I’ll keep you updated.

When you walk closer you see the tears streaming down Yelena’s face and hear the words, “I’m sorry” coming out of her mouth over and over again. Your heart broke at the sight. You move closer and sit down next to her. At first you don’t speak, as a way to give Yelena space. With your eyes fixated on all the pictures, letters, flowers, candles and stuffed animals people had left at your wife’s grave. If only she could see how many people had loved her.

After a while Yelena gets up and you do as well. The next moment she’s in your arms, stroking her back. Hoping to bring her some comfort. “What happened, Lena?” You say softly, not wanting to startle the crying woman. “Her necklace, it’s gone. It’s all I had left of her, y/n. What am I going to do?”

“We’re going to find it. I’ll text Wanda to get everyone together and we will all look together at the Compound.” You try reassuring her. In the car you text Wanda and think back to when you gave her the necklace.

You and Natasha had your own apartment in New York, close to the Avengers Compound. You stayed in the apartment after her death, that way she would always be with you. Yelena lived in the Compound with some of the other Avengers. A couple weeks after Natasha’s loss you were going through her stuff, when your eyes fell on Natasha her arrow necklace.

You had thought of all the times you had seen her wear it and thought it be the perfect thing to give to Yelena, to always have a piece of her sister with her. Ever since that day Yelena had worn the necklace, you had never seen her without it.

When you get to the Compound, Wanda was instructing Steve, Sam, Kate, Clint and Peter. Telling each of them which rooms they’d be searching. You gave her a thankful smile. The whole time you stayed by Yelena’s side, not wanting her to be alone in a situation like this.

Once everyone had looked through all the rooms multiple times and the necklace still wasn’t found, you had called it a night. Yelena asked if she could stay at your place for the night, to be surrounded by some of Natasha her stuff. “Of course, Lena, you know you’re always welcome.”

It had been a couple of days since that day, and you were cleaning the house. It was then when you went to vacuum under the guest bed that a shimmer caught your eye, there it was. You dropped the vacuum and ran for your car.

When you arrive at the Compound you ask the first person you see, “Where is Yelena?” When they tell you she’s probably in the training room you start running again. Yelena looks at you with a question look once you enter the room. “Why are you out of breath?”

You take a second to collect some air to breath properly and lift your hand up in the air, the necklace dangling from your fingers, “I found it.”

Yelena’s widen and she’s by your side within a second. A tear escapes when she reaches out for the necklace taking it from your hands. She holds it close to her heart and give you a hug, “Thank you so much, y/n.” You smile and hug her back, “I’m glad we found it. Want to have lunch with Nat and show her?”

At Nat’s grave you both sit down with some sandwiches. You and Yelena reminisce about Natasha like always and tell Natasha the crazy story of her necklace.

“Hey, Lena. You know you never have to ask to come over right? I gave you a key, so you’d always have a place to go to be around her. And when I married Nat, you became my sister too. We’re family, which means you don’t have to do any of this alone, okay?” You say as you look at a picture of Natasha that was placed next to the stone. Yelena’s eyes water again, “You see me as your sister?” You bump your shoulder to hers, “Yeah, you’re my little sister Lena.”

~

Main taglist:

@yellowvxbes // @xxromanoffxx // @xxxtwilightaxelxxx // @wandanatvoid // @wandaswifeyforlifey // @marvelwomen-simp // @snooy245 // @peggycarter-steverogers // @wandas-slut-heart // @nats-dreamland // @annephobic // @laaurrel // @catasha // @t00manyfand0ms // @multifandomlesbianic // @bandit2029 // @avengerswriter4eva // @gigistylestomlinson // @snowdrop1026 // @sylvies4ever // @youreatotalposer // @mellowladyangel // @milfloverslut // @natasha-danvers // @lyak12 // @smallestavenger // @when-wolves-howl // @svftpetker // @la-reine-des-enfers // @official-chaotic-wandamaximoff // @b0r3d-s1mp1ng-b1tch // @bubblensqueak002 // @imabee-oralizard // @rafecameronswhore // @be-missed // @romaaa28 // @iamsorrydidisteponyourmoment // @youralphawolf72 // @maia-lightwoood // @rootbeerfaygo // @elliesayshello869 // @vllowe // @princessprudy // @nightingalexx

Yelena taglist:

@ailenepuff // @mellowladyangel // @kacka84

[uvobreakmylegs]

Haze

i saw a meme and it made me want to write a Morel piece. then @ramwrites​ suggested making him a banshee and i loved it

i have definitely bastardized banshee lore but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do for a story

Warnings: manipulation, mentions of death

A hiking trip up to a nearby mountain trail had been on a list of things to do for you and your friend group for a while. Your friend Denali had suggested it, and she assured you all that it wouldn't be anything too difficult; it was just a beginner's trail that would consist of a few hours of walking up the trail and back. And then maybe you all could grab some food after.

You were pretty excited for it, as the idea sounded refreshing to you. Another thing that added to the anticipation of the hike was the fact that it had also been a little while since everyone in the friend group had been able to hang out together.

Or more accurately, it had been a while since you were able to make it to one of these friend meetups.

Some kind of bad luck had been plaguing you recently; the last few times an outing for the four of you had been planned, something unexpected came up for you and you needed to cancel last minute. Be it work obligations, family emergencies or just you getting sick the night before, it had been a while since you hung out with them like you once had.

Aiden, Denali and Colton all seemed to take it well, but you swore you could sense a growing annoyance in them. They seemed to be shorter with you in texts, and there had been a few times now that you'd sent a picture or said something in the group chat and it had been ignored. You worried that they were starting to think you were making up excuses instead of genuinely being unable to see them, but every time you tried to talk with them privately, they told you that there wasn't anything wrong and that you were just overreacting.

That hadn't made you feel any better. You just felt like a bad friend.

But today would be different.

You made a point to ensure that you had the day completely cleared for the hike, getting the day off from your work well in advance and doing your best to stay away from anything that might make you sick. The morning of your friends had all confirmed that it was still on, and after a little while they were going to rendezvous at your place to pick you up before you all headed out to the trail.

Things were going to be different today, and you were excited for it.

And things were different.

But maybe not in a way that you had expected.

You didn't notice the second car that had pulled up behind Denali's initially when they stopped outside your place. You only noticed that something was different when you approached Denali's car and noticed that one of the seats in the back had been taken up by a pile of backpacks, leaving no room for you.

When Aiden stepped out of the first car as you came out to greet him, he explained the situation. Without your knowledge, Aiden had invited someone from his work, a woman named Fawn. Evidently during those times when you couldn't make it, your friends had been hanging out with her a lot, and they had figured that she should be invited on this trip as well.

That they were hanging out with other people didn't upset you; they had every right to spend their time with people that were able to show up. But you felt slightly hurt that you hadn't been asked or even given a heads-up that this was happening. You had been anticipating spending time with your old friend group for this trip and instead you would be trying to reconnect while also navigating a new group dynamic.

But you decided not to say anything about it. You just nodded and smiled when Aiden told you that you'd be riding with Fawn in her car. Although it was unexpected, you told yourself that new people wasn't necessarily a bad thing. You could probably make good friends with her while also berating yourself for your first reaction to her being disappointment. That sort of attitude was no good.

Despite all of that, you quickly came to feel that you didn't like Fawn very much.

For one thing, the woman was one of the most reckless drivers you had ever come across. Virtually blowing through stop signs, running several lights and swerving around drivers that she felt weren't going fast enough, there were several times during the trip that you felt she was going to cause an accident. She also passed by Denali's car for some reason, and when you asked her why, she said she thought it would be fun to see who could get to the mountain first. You didn't agree, but there was literally nothing you could do but hold onto the inside of the passenger side door for dear life. The motion sickness you'd gotten was so bad that by the time you made it to the parking lot next to the hiking trail, you'd needed to lean against the side of her car and take in deep breaths in an attempt to not throw up your breakfast.

At least she seemed pretty apologetic when she saw you like that, and she offered you a bottle of water which you gladly took. But the second Denali's car pulled up she seemed to switch her focus to that completely, going up to the rest of the group to greet them. She had something of a one-track mind, it seemed. It didn't make her a bad person, but you still wanted a bit of distance for now.

After recovering and making sure you had everything you needed in your backpack, you approached Aiden while the others were getting ready.

“Hey,” you said, “you think you and I could switch places for the car ride back?”

“Oh c'mon, it couldn't have been that bad,” he said, “you'll hurt her feelings if you do that. She really wants to know you.”

Fawn walked up right after, and since you weren't willing to criticize her driving right in front of her, you dropped it.

Meanwhile the mountain loomed above all of you. Tall and imposing with a rather dense white fog that almost obscured the very top of it. There were parts that were heavily forested, and you briefly wondered if you would need to worry about anything like bears or some other kind of large wild animal.

“How far up are we going?” you asked Denali.

“Not too far. We'll be sticking to the marked trail; there's a cool little observation deck at the end of it,” she told you, “I figure we'll head towards that and then come back the same way.”

You nodded, but before you could give any real response Colton called her over for something, and she left to help him. Aiden and Fawn were chatting about something, so you stood silent and at the ready, looking up once more at the mountain.

Despite the distance, you swore you saw something moving. You wanted to say it was some large kind of four-legged creature, though it was impossible to tell what exactly it was.

“Are there bears on the mountain?” you asked aloud.

“Nah.”

That was all the response you got.

For about ten minutes after the hike started, Fawn had stayed at the back with you, asking you some basic questions about yourself that you would in turn ask her once you had answered. You hoped that the interaction wasn't as awkward as it had felt to you. Maybe it was but she also didn't want to say anything about it.

Then when your group came across an old, crumbling well, Fawn had run up towards Aiden to get some better pictures of the structure, and when the group began to move again, she chose to stay there next to him.

Denali had taken the lead with Colton right behind. They were talking, though what they were talking about you couldn't be sure as you only caught bits and pieces of the conversation. A few steps behind them were Aiden and Fawn, talking about something that was going on at their workplace. And a few steps behind those two was you, trailing behind the group and unable to join either conversation. Although Aiden had said that Fawn wanted to know you, she hadn't said much of substance to you before she turned her attention back to him. Although maybe that was your fault. Maybe it really was obvious that you didn't care for her much. You thought that you were doing a decent job at being polite, but maybe she could tell that you were still a bit annoyed about her driving earlier.

Or maybe she just wanted to talk to Aiden right now and you were overreacting again.

You weren't sure.

It just felt like you were being excluded.

Of course. The first time in forever that you were able to make it to a meet-up with them, and it felt like you weren't wanted.

You sighed to yourself as you walked behind silently, trying to tell yourself that it was unreasonable to be thinking like that and that you wouldn't have been invited if they didn't want you there. The hike had just started; you couldn't decide that the whole thing would be bad just because of a rough beginning.

At least for now you could enjoy the scenery, and you looked about the woods as you walked along the trail, noting the different types of trees and plants and just how many of them surrounded you as you walked by on the trail. You stopped now and then to take a few pictures with your phone. Although you could hear the distinct chirping of birds in the distance, you didn't manage to see any, and despite the movement you thought you had seen while in the parking lot, it didn't seem like there were any other animals in the area. Denali had said this was an easy trail; maybe people frequented it enough that most animals avoided any areas close to it. That was too bad, but not that big of a deal. At least you were still getting nice pictures of the forest.

Your group came across a wide set of wooden stairs with a wooden barrier on either side after a bit, beginning a steeper ascent towards the higher parts of the mountain. Nothing had really changed within the group, though you noted that the conversations had mostly died down in an effort to appreciate the nature around you. Colton was also frequently looking behind to make sure everyone was still there. The two of you managed to lock eyes at one point, and you smiled at him. He gave back something of a half-smile before looking back in front of him. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but you noted that he didn't look back after that.

The walk continued, and all of you were quiet now, looking about the scenery. Some of them occasionally made remarks whenever they spotted something unusual, like an oddly shaped tree trunk or rock. You stayed silent, though, remembering your messages that had gone ignored and worried that if you said anything, that would be ignored as well.

Were you being too anxious about this? Probably. You sighed to yourself again as you tried to keep those kinds of thoughts from running amok.

Just distract yourself by looking around, you told yourself.

You paused when you glanced over to your right.

It looked like there was some sort of stone pillar standing in the distance. The dark rock was covered in moss and vines, but the shape was such that it couldn't have been a natural formation. Someone human had put it there some time ago. It also looked as though there was similar wreckage behind the pillar, and you wondered if it may have once been some kind of building.

Taking out your phone and pulling up the camera, you zoomed in on the the ruined structure. You briefly glanced over to your friends as you did, making sure they weren't leaving you too far behind.

But when you looked back to the phone, you let out a small sound of surprise.

There was a man standing by the pillar.

Your eyes immediately went back to the pillar as you wondered where this guy had come from.

The shadows over in that area made things a bit darker, but you were able to see a general shape that looked like a person. You squinted slightly as you looked at him, trying to make out any details. But strangely, you couldn't. It was just the shape of a rather broad man, and as you continued to look, you found that it looked almost wispy, like a few pieces of cloud had floated down and arranged themselves to imitate what a person might look like.

…. Why did it feel like it was looking back at you?

“What are you doing?”

Aiden's voice called to you, and you snapped out of your stupor to find that the whole group was standing there waiting on you.

Your mouth fell open to try and offer some explanation, to tell them about what you were looking at, but when you glanced back to where the shape had been-

He wasn't there.

And when you looked back to the camera, you found he was gone from there as well.

Had you imagined it?

The entire thing had happened within mere seconds. The pillar wasn't large enough that he could be hiding behind it, and no one could move that fast without making some bit of noise. Looking between the view from your camera and the pillar a few more times, you decided that you had imagined it. Though you were certain you had seen something standing there, there was no way that could have actually been the case. Maybe a shadow just looked weird within the lighting at that moment?

Aiden called out to you again.

“Sorry!” you called out, putting the phone away as you hurried up the stairs to rejoin them.

“What you were looking at?” Fawn asked you.

“Something back there,” you explained, “ it looked like there were some ruins of a building.”

“Oh, did you get a picture? Can I see?”

“Ah, sorry, I didn't.”

Fawn pouted, asking “why not?”

“I thought I saw someone.”

They both looked at you strangely.

“You couldn't get a picture because you thought you saw someone?” Aiden asked.

“I don't know. It was just weird,” you said, getting a bit flustered as you continued “I thought I saw a guy for a second – or something that looked like a guy – but then he was gone.”

“... 'Something' that 'looked' like a guy,” Aiden repeated.

“Oh wow, I didn't know you could see ghosts!” Fawn exclaimed, giggling a little, “we've got a coworker who swears that the printer room is haunted. Maybe we should bring her here and see if she also sees something.”

…. You weren't sure if she was making fun of you or not, so you stayed silent. Aiden was still looking at you like you had two heads while Fawn was pulling out her own phone, preparing to walk back down to take a look at the ruins herself. Then Denali called out to the three of you, asking what the hold-up was. That was enough to spur you to begin walking again.

“Aw, I wanted to get a picture,” Fawn said as you began climbing the stairs once more.

Fawn then looked to Aiden as he said to her “we can always snap a picture on the way back.”

“That's true.”

“And did Nell say that the printer room was haunted? I thought she said it was the third floor bathroom,” Aiden then said.

“It could've been both. According to her a lot of places are haunted. Something about weird energies,” Fawn responded.

They were talking about something from their work again, and since you still had no way to join in, you walked behind them in silence. As your group continued the ascent, you glanced behind to see if there was anything weird with the pillar from this angle. There was a nagging feeling at the back of your mind, and you felt as if there was someone watching you.

There was nothing, and though the feeling wasn't going away, you told yourself to forget about it.

Time passed as the clouds parted some to show how the sun had moved higher in the sky, and your group came to a wooden platform with benches and tables that were clearly meant as a rest stop for any hikers. The others decided that it was a good time to have lunch and settled themselves at a table. You, on the other hand, were still feeling some side effects from Fawn's driving earlier, and as you really didn't want to get sick in the middle of the hike, you opted not to eat. You sat with them at first, but when you once again felt like you couldn't contribute to the conversation, you stood up, the amateur photographer in you feeling fulfilled somewhat as you snapped a few more pictures of the scenery.

You wandered over to a different part of the platform, leaning your elbows on the wooden fencing as you looked out at the forest.

At the beginning of your trip it had been fairly overcast, and only after you had started this excursion had the clouds thinned and allowed the sun to shine through. But just as the weather started to clear up, it seemed to be turning overcast again as a mist began to fall, seemingly sliding from the top of the mountain and through the thick forest of trees. Was rain a possibility? Maybe, and of course you hadn't brought anything with you if that did happen. You had made a point to bring a first aid kit in case either you or someone else got hurt, but nothing to protect you in case the weather turned bad.

A flash of white caught your eye while you were caught up in your thoughts.

Glancing to your left, you found yourself staring at a white rabbit.

It was nice to finally see some wildlife for the first time since this hike had started and at first glance it seemed perfectly normal. But the more you looked at it, the more.... Odd it seemed.

It was sitting upright facing away from you, not moving at all. That didn't seem quite normal, since you thought most rabbits were inclined to hunker down and try to blend in with their surroundings if they encountered something they thought was a threat. This one didn't seem to be hiding, it just sat still, and the more you looked, the more it didn't seem like it was even breathing. It also seemed strange to find a pure white rabbit up in the mountains. The color was striking against the earthly tones of the forest, and presumably that should've meant that it would have been easy prey for any natural predators that roamed the area. In fact, it didn't look the slightest bit dirty, making you wonder if it was someone's pet that had escaped.

And the more you looked at it, the more something about it just seemed to be off. Like it had some kind of weird energy to it.

And yet you felt an urge to get closer to it.

The instant you moved closer it reacted by twisting it's head around to face you, and you saw it's face for the first time.

Or rather, it's lack of one.

No eyes, no nose, no mouth, no sort of features whatsoever. It's face, and the rest of it for that matter, was completely blank, and it seemed less and less like a living creature the longer you looked at it.

You stared at it, unsure of how you were supposed to react to such a thing.

“The rabbit doesn't have a face,” you said aloud.

Your friends didn't hear you. In their defense, you hadn't spoken all that loudly.

When you moved again it bolted, vanishing behind surrounding tree trunks.

Follow it

Maybe it was because of the shock you felt at seeing that thing that you didn't even question the thought. You just climbed over the fencing and headed out in the same direction you had seen it run off to.

It wasn't long before you caught sight of it again, and once more you were struck by how odd this thing was. It was sitting up again, staring at you. Almost like it was waiting for you.

Did you really want to follow a faceless rabbit into the woods? Apparently you did, because when you got close again it ran off, and the process repeated itself as it began to lead you through the forest, taking you further and further away from the hiking trail and down an unmarked path. The rabbit never got too far before it would stop and wait for you to catch up, and it stayed still during the few times that you would pause for a break. It really was waiting for you, and somehow, it didn't seem like it was running in any random direction. More like it was leading you somewhere.

A haze had seemed to form in your mind. Somehow, none of this seemed questionable to you, that you were running off in pursuit of a white rabbit like a heroine from a Lewis Carroll book. Or at least some darker version of that tale given the rabbit's lack of a face which you still weren't able to make sense of. There was no reason for you to be running off of the trail like this, into terrain that you weren't familiar with, but every time you caught sight of the rabbit, something inside you told you that you needed to go after it.

You did just that for some time until the haze finally broke.

In the midst of your pursuit, you happened to step on a hollow, rotted log, and the wood was weak enough that when you put your weight on it, your foot went right through. You shrieked, stumbling forward as you desperately pulled your foot out. To add to your panic, there had been a fair amount of bugs living inside of the log, some of which had attached themselves to your shoe, and you kicked your foot out rapidly to get them off of you. They scattered, and you stumbled back before landing awkwardly on your ankle. Pain shot through you, and you fell against the trunk of a tree where you sank to the forest floor, one hand steadying yourself while the other was over your chest as you tried to calm yourself down.

What the hell am I doing?

The thought struck you. Why had you gone off the trail like this? And for some weird rabbit creature, of all things? What was the point of this excursion? What if you got hurt?

You put some weight on the foot that had gone through the log and you hissed as another sharp bolt of pain hit you.

Scratch that. You'd already managed to hurt yourself.

It seemed like your ankle was sprained. Clearly you had landed on it wrong after getting your foot out of the log.

Ah, this was the worst.

You gingerly removed your shoe and tried to get a look at the damage. It didn't look too bad yet, but there was definitely something wrong with it as you only felt pain every time you moved it. How fast does the swelling set in? At least you'd had the forethought of bringing a few rolls of elastic bandage wraps, though you felt like you'd need some help to get it properly wrapped.

Which meant you'd need to find your way back to your friends.

How far away were you from the trail by now? You weren't even sure how much time had passed since you had left them. It was all so strange, that you had gotten such extreme tunnel vision like that and had run off. And because of that, you had gotten hurt and would have a hard time making your way back, or else they would need to come in to find you.

They'd be upset with you, wouldn't they?

You probably wouldn't be able to continue the hike, and you were sure there'd be some resentment if this outing was cut short because of you. Maybe you could just wait at the rest area? They'd be coming down the same path when they came back, so maybe they could continue the hike and you could rest up and join them on the return trip. It'd be boring for you but then at least the trip wouldn't be a waste for them.

You sighed as you began to shimmy your shoe back onto your foot. Today was a bust. First the thing with Fawn, then the way it seemed like you were being ignored, and now this.

They hadn't even said anything when you jumped the fence to chase after the rabbit, had they? Not that you'd really been paying attention, so maybe they had, but they sure hadn't gone after you.

… Not that it was on them to look after you. You were an adult and therefore not their responsibility. It was wrong to think like that.

You sighed again.

Everything that had happened today really had been your own fault, huh? It was all you could do to hope nothing else bad would happen.

You remembered some old superstitious saying about bad things happening in threes. If that was true, then maybe your bad luck was over for the day.

Trying to get off of that particular train of thought, you looked about for something that could work as a walking stick, something strong enough to hold your weight for when you made your way back to the path.

A voice called out from far away, and when you paused to listen, you heard the voices of your friends calling out your name.

That was actually really good.

A new creeping fear was that you would be lost in the woods and have a hard time finding the path, but as long as they were calling out to you, you could use the sounds of their voices to find your way back. As you were about to push yourself to your feet, you allowed yourself to be a little hopeful, feeling that the bad things were done for the day.

You heard something then, as though something had dropped onto the ground next to you.

In an automatic response, you turned your head towards the sound and found a pipe laying atop the dirt and fallen leaves.

Had that been there earlier?

It was moderately sized, a black stem with a little bit of intricate gold detailing on either end, while the bowl at the end of the pipe was more of a darker bronze.

Wouldn't you have noticed this earlier? Or had you been that distracted when you'd been desperately shaking all of the bugs off of your foot?

Without really thinking about why you reached out to grab it as you wondered to yourself if there were still people these days who smoked using pipes.

It was warm when your fingers made contact, and as you raised it up to inspect it more, you noted how clean it was. If it had been out here for a day or so there would've been more dirt on it, but with the state it was in, someone must have dropped it not too long ago.

At least it gave you some comfort knowing that you weren't the only one who had wandered off the trail, though you were probably still one of the dumbest to do so since you had gone off in chase of a freaky rabbit.

Should you take the pipe with you? Was there some sort of lost and found box down at the parking lot? Would the person who lost it even still be looking for it, or would they have already accepted that it was gone forever?

With those thoughts swirling around your head, you didn't notice the sound of footsteps that came closer until they stopped right next to you.

“Are you alright?”

A man's voice broke you from your thoughts, and when you turned your gaze upwards, you found an older man standing above you, leaning an arm against the same tree trunk you were resting against. White hair, a gray dress shirt with a red tie and wearing black sunglasses despite the clouds overhead, he looked down at you with a clear look of concern on his face.

“Ah – yes! Well, mostly,” you said once you realized he was waiting for an answer.

“Mostly?”

“I think I sprained my ankle.”

He knelt down next to you, asking “may I?” as he motioned to your aforementioned ankle. You nodded, and he inspected your ankle. He was gentle with you, looking over the injured area carefully and apologizing any time he caused you some discomfort.

“How bad is it?” you asked him after a moment.

“I'd say you were right. It looks sprained.”

You groaned a little, disappointed that you were correct.

“Do you have anything to wrap it with?” he asked.

“Yeah, in my backpack,” you answered, “I was gonna get my friends to help me with it once I got back to them.”

“Where are they?”

“Back by the path, I think. It sounded like they were looking for me just now.”

However, you could no longer hear them. In fact, the whole forest seemed oddly silent now, the only exception being the wind that would at times whistle through the trees. And had it gotten darker?

“That's weird,” you said more to yourself, “I know I heard them.”

The man who sat patiently before you, with your ankle still in his care, looked about for any sign of your friends before he spoke again.

“Well, I'm here now,” he told you, “care if I patch you up instead?”

“Um, as long as it isn't too much trouble?”

He smiled at you.

“It's no trouble at all.”

Saying that it would be easier for him to work on you, the man carefully picked you up and moved you so that you sat on a nearby boulder, kneeling down in front of you again as he waited for you to fish out the bandages from your pack.

“I'm Morel, by the way.”

You gave him a small smile in return, introducing yourself as well as you handed off the bandages.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked as he began to wrap up your ankle.

“Hiking with friends.”

“I figured that much,” he said, grinning a little, “but the trail is a good distance from here. How did you end up off of it?”

“Ah....”

Despite the pain in your ankle and the circumstances between you and your friends, it hadn't been lost on you that Morel was pretty handsome. A bit rugged, but in a good way. And though you knew nothing about this man – for all you knew he had a wife and child at home waiting for him – you didn't want to say something that might make him think you were an idiot. Telling him that you had gone chasing after a rabbit would definitely make him think you were an idiot.

And you didn't want to mention that you thought it had no face. Then he'd think you were crazy.

“I saw some ruins down at the base of the mountain; thought it'd be cool if I went exploring and see if I could find some more,” you lied.

“Unfortunately, any ruins would be down at the bottom. Nobody would've built anything this far up,” Morel explained.

“Ah, I see.”

You stayed quiet a moment, looking back in the direction where you'd heard your friends calling. You still couldn't hear them, and it worried you that something may have happened.

There was also that white mist from earlier that had grown thicker while Morel wrapped your ankle, slowly settling down around you and making the scene around you look more ethereal.

“Why did you wander out on your own? One of them should've come with you,” Morel said suddenly.

“Oh.... I kinda, um, ran off without telling them anything.”

So much for not sounding like an idiot.

Morel paused, glancing back up at you as he asked “did something happen?”

“... Not really? I mean, kind of, but...” you trailed off for a moment, “it's mostly my fault. I'm the one who isn't trying hard enough to talk it out with them. Ah, I really hope I haven't ruined this trip.”

“I doubt you running off could've ruined it.”

“I hope not. But still, I'll need to apologize, maybe take all of them out for a meal after to make up for it,” you said.

There was a sad expression on Morel's face when he looked up at you after you said that. Something in the way he frowned and his brows furrowed at your words made it seem like he knew something you didn't.

You didn't get a chance to question him on it as he finished up wrapping your ankle, handing the remaining bandages back to you as he announced “all done.”

“Ah – Thank you.”

He seemed a bit more cheerful now, though he looked off in the direction you had been looking in.

“Those friends of your still on the trail?” he asked.

“I'm not sure? It really did sound like they were looking for me earlier.”

“I see. Then if they're looking for you maybe we should stay put. Wait for them to get to us. It won't do any good if we all get lost trying to find each other.”

That made sense, and you nodded.

Morel sat down next to you, the boulder being large enough to fit both of you, though he did need to squeeze in a bit closer than you would normally be comfortable with a complete stranger. You found that you didn't mind much, though. Although for the sake of your friend group you wanted to be found soon, you didn't dislike the idea of spending more time alone with Morel. He seemed trustworthy, and being in such close contact more than made up for all the stuff from earlier.

…. Good lord. Were you really this weak for a random guy you found attractive?

The mist seemed to be growing thicker, but you could still make out most of the trees that surrounded you.

“What are you doing up here, Morel?” you asked, “it doesn't look like you're dressed for hiking.”

“I live here.”

“Really? On the mountain?”

He nodded.

“Wow. I didn't know anybody lived up here. Is it just you or are there others?”

“There's a few of us up here, though my neighbors tend to keep to themselves,” he told you, “a lot of them just want to be left alone.”

It seemed surprising to you that there was more than one person who lived up on a mountain like this. Especially since you had been under the impression that the area was part of a park. Maybe his place had been built beforehand and he was grandfathered in somehow?

The more you thought about it, the more you felt that didn't make a lot of sense. But before you could voice that opinion, it was like the thought was forcibly torn from your mind, and something within you encouraged you to try and learn more about him.

“Are you one who wants to be left alone?” you asked him instead.

“For the most part,” he answered, “but I don't mind people on occasion. My neighbors, not so much.”

“Would they have gotten mad at me?”

“Definitely.”

“Guess I'm lucky you found me and not them,” you said.

He smiled at that, but didn't say anything, and you continued.

“Although if your neighbors want isolation, isn't it inconvenient that the trail's been set up here? Don't you have to worry about people trespassing?”

“Most people know not to go off the path,” Morel said, “though I guess you're not one of them.”

“It wasn't my fault!” you insisted, “there was a rabbit, and I just - I don't know, needed to follow it.”

Why had you done that again? You'd been questioning it before Morel found you but you'd gotten distracted. It was strange. And did the rabbit really have no face? Maybe your mind was just tired and had made it up or something and you just ran off because you were an idiot.

Where had it even gone, anyway?

Morel tilted his head, smirking at you.

“I thought you said you were looking for more ruins? You mean you were actually chasing after rabbits?” he asked.

….. You forgot that you lied.

Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your shirt while you looked away in embarrassment.

“.... I didn't want you to think I was stupid,” you mumbled.

He laughed at that, and you felt worse about your lie, turning your head away further as you made a point to not look at him.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean it,” he said, one of his hands coming up to playfully tousle your hair. You glanced back at him then, and the sour look on your face lessened a little when you saw how he smiled at you.

“I've also gone off wandering after random things,” he continued, “I've hurt myself a few times, too, so don't feel bad.”

That made you feel a bit better, and you relaxed a little more.

“What kind of things have you gone wandering after?” you asked him.

“Things that you probably wouldn't believe if I told you.”

That answer was oddly cryptic, though you supposed that made two of you, since you were still too nervous to divulge the fact about the rabbit lacking a face. Maybe Morel had seen freakier things up here. But since he didn't seem to want to go into that, maybe it'd be better to steer the conversation away from the potentially supernatural.

“Were you wandering after something when you found me?” was your next question.

“No, not today. I was in the middle of looking for something I had lost.”

“Oh. Sorry,” you said.

“For what?”

“Distracting you, and making you wait here with me.”

“It's not that important,” Morel said, “and what kind of guy would I be if I left you out here by yourself? Especially with that fog that's settling in.”

“I'd probably be okay. Oh. Unless there's bears. Then I might not be.”

You remembered the shape you had seen when you had first arrived, and you asked him “are there bears on this mountain?”

“I've never seen any.”

You hummed at that, thinking again about what you had seen and trying to figure out what it was.

“Did you see one?” asked Morel.

“I don't know. I saw something weird when I was in the parking lot, and I'm still not sure what it was,” you explained, “I've seen some other stuff, too. Some a bit more freaky than a bear.”

“Like what?”

“.... Do you promise not to laugh at me?”

“I promise, I'm done laughing at you,” Morel said, grinning a little.

Despite being unsure if you could trust him in that regard, you decided to speak anyway.

“So, the rabbit that I saw earlier – I'm not really sure why I followed it, but I noticed it back at the rest area. It seemed kinda weird when I saw it, because it didn't look like it was breathing? And when I got closer, I swear, it didn't have a face. No features at all. It was just blank.”

You prepared yourself for him to laugh at you again. When he didn't say anything, you looked back to him.

Morel looked surprisingly neutral.

“That does sound strange,” was his reply.

“.... Do you believe me?”

Morel looked away from you, leaning back on his hands as his gaze seemed to go to the cloudy sky above the trees that surrounded the two of you.

“You know, I think I do. Living up here, I've had my fair share of strange occurrences. Not quite like that, but maybe I just haven't encountered that before.”

It was a relief to hear that he wasn't mocking you, and it was even more of a relief that he actually believed you, as you had been worried that his reaction might resemble what had happened earlier with Aiden and Fawn. Him believing you spurred you to speak more.

“I saw something before, too,” you said, “down near the ruins, at one point I thought I saw a man standing next to them. But when I looked up from my camera he was gone.”

“What did he look like?”

“Not sure. I saw him, but I somehow didn't really see him? Or I just saw his general shape,” you continued, “the others were joking that it was a ghost.”

“Could've been,” said Morel, “this is ancient land with a lot of older things attached to it. There are probably more than a few wayward souls that have found a home here.”

“..... Do you think they could be dangerous?” you asked him.

“Maybe some of them. But most people should be safe if they stay on the path.”

He grinned again when he looked back at you.

“Who knows. You could've come across something bad,” he said jokingly.

“Don't you and your neighbors live up here? It can't be all that bad if that's the case,” you responded, “though I think I'll try to keep from chasing after anymore weird rabbits.”

“Probably a good idea.”

A comfortable silence settled over the two of you. The mist had expanded as you continued to wait for your friends, who you hadn't heard in some time now. It should've worried you more that you couldn't hear them – they hadn't given up on you, had they? Even if they were really annoyed with you they surely wouldn't go that far. Yet you found yourself thinking even if that was the case, it would be okay. Morel was so nice, he wouldn't just leave you here if they didn't show up, right? At the very least, he'd take you back to the trail.

If your friends had bailed on you, then maybe you should repay him by taking him out to dinner.

The tops of the trees were slowly becoming more obscured as the fog continued to drift down, and all you could think was that it looked pretty.

“Is it nice living up here?” you asked him.

“Yeah, pretty nice. Lots of good scenery.”

He seemed to be thinking about something, and you noticed that his shoulders sagged slightly.

“Being completely alone can get to you, though.”

There was a sadness in his voice. He did say that him wanting to be alone was just 'for the most part'. Unless that was a lie. What sort of circumstance could drive him to be living alone in the wilderness if he didn't actually want to be here? You wanted to know, but worried that might be crossing a boundary of some sort, and that made you hesitate to question him further.

“Do you not want to be here?” you asked him softly.

“No, I do,” said Morel, “but I also liked being around people. It just became hard to be around them after a while.”

“Hard to be around them?” you repeated.

“Yeah. It's.... It's just tough to explain,” he said.

“Sorry.”

He shook his head.

“Don't worry about it.”

It confused you, and while you wanted to ask a few more questions, you got a sense that he didn't want to talk about it anymore.

You found yourself wondering if Morel suffered from some extreme form of anxiety or agoraphobia. He seemed like a pretty calm person, but maybe that was only because he was in an environment where he was comfortable. That could have made sense, although you mentally berated yourself shortly after for jumping to conclusions like that just because he didn't want to talk about it. Maybe you should try to move the topic to something else.

“Does anyone come up to visit you?” you asked.

“No.”

Ah. Okay then.

“Then...” you trailed off briefly as you tried to find the right words, “ as long as it isn't too hard to be around me, would you care if I came back to visit you? I could repay you with all you've done for me with a dinner. Maybe bring it by next week or something like that?”

Morel smiled at that, and yet to you it seemed forced. You got another sense that he knew something that you didn't, and that he was intentionally keeping that information from you.

What would he know that he'd be keeping from you?

The thought left your head just as quickly as it entered when he spoke again.

“I guess I could handle having you stop by,” he said jokingly, “you're pretty tolerable.”

“Ah, that's good. Glad to know I can at least be tolerated,” you answered back in a similar joking manner.

He chuckled at that.

“All jokes aside, it'll be nice to have some company up here,” he said softly.

It felt good that he accepted you so easily. Maybe he accepted you a little too easily given the short amount of time he had known you, but if he was living up here all by himself maybe he was just that desperate.

And the argument could also be made that you were similarly being too trusting of him. It was possible that this was just a facade of his that would drop the instant you were vulnerable. That'd probably be what Colton would tell you if he knew the thoughts going around your head.

Although you were already pretty vulnerable, weren't you? Alone in the wilderness with a man you just met and a sprained ankle, so you weren't even able to run if you needed to. Even with your friends that were hopefully close by, with Morel's size it would've been easy enough for him to drag you off if he wanted. Helping you, sitting down and waiting with you for your friends just to gain your trust seemed to be a bit too much effort if his ultimate goal was to take you away.

You forced down those silly, anxious thoughts of yours. Morel wouldn't hurt you, you were certain of it.

The mist around the two of you was growing thicker still, but you didn't pay it much mind as you looked back down to your lap.

Something was sticking out of the front pocket of your jacket, and then you remembered that you still had that pipe you had found this whole time, having absentmindedly stuck it into your pocket when Morel moved you earlier. A thought then occurred to you as you looked at it again.

“This wouldn't be yours, would it?” you asked him as you pulled it out to show him.

Looking down at it, you noted that he didn't seem too surprised as he said to you “it would, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. That's what I was looking for when I came across you,” Morel said.

“Huh. That's some weird coincidence,” you said as you extended your hand out to give him the pipe.

“It happens,” he said. He thanked you as he took it from you, pocketing it before his hands went back to where they had been before.

There was no urgency within you as you continued to sit with Morel, the mist still swirling and settling around the two of you. The more the mist grew, the more the thoughts of your friends and the worries within you began to slip away.

You had nothing to worry about.

Had you been paying more attention to him, you would've seen Morel stiffen ever so slightly, maybe even heard him curse under his breath as he sensed something that was now in the general vicinity. But you only noticed when he stood up suddenly, hands on his hips as he turned to face you.

“Hate to say it, but this fog'll probably only get worse. I'm not sure it's a good idea to keep waiting here,” he told you.

It had seemed to become exponentially worse as soon as he spoke those words, the fog that had been fairly moderate now surprisingly thick, to the point that you had a hard time making out the trees that were closest to you. Somehow you hadn't noticed just how bad it was until now.

“Ah. Yeah, you're right,” you said, “I think I remember which direction the trail is in. I should be able to make it back on my own.”

“What – no, that's not...”

Morel was rather flustered now, a hand running through his hair as he continued “even if you can make it back there, I doubt you'll have an easy time going down those stairs with your ankle like that. And with how hard it is to see right now, there's a 100% chance that you'll end up falling.”

You nodded, though you weren't certain where he was going. It seemed like a lot to ask him to walk you back in such circumstances, and far, far too much to have him take you back down the mountain.

“Since we're not sure what happened with your friends, I think the best thing I can do is take you back to my place for the time being.”

That hadn't been what you were expecting, and you opened your mouth to second-guess that idea until he spoke again.

“Just until the fog clears,” he assured you, “and this way you can get some actual rest inside instead of sitting out in the cold like this.”

… Morel's proposal seemed a lot nicer, you had to admit.

“I guess,” you began, “as long as you're sure it isn't too much trouble.”

He smiled at you as he said “I promise, it isn't.”

Any worries that this may be overstepping some kind of boundary faded from your mind after his reassurance, and you looked about the forest again.

“I guess we should try to find something for me to use as a walking stick,” you said, squinting your eyes when the fog proved to be too thick to see clearly, “unless you're okay with me leaning on you.”

“I've got a better idea.”

With that, Morel turned around and knelt down, his arms stretched out behind his back as he said “I'll carry you.”

After assuring you that this way would be faster, it didn't take much for you to take him up on his offer. After you made sure not to put any weight on your ankle while you climbed onto his back, Morel slowly lifted you up after he had your legs secured around his waist and you loosely held on around his neck.

With the sensation of you being pressed against him, of your warmth and virtually feeling the way your heart was steadily beating against his back, Morel let out a quiet, relieved sigh as he began the trek back to his home. He was grateful that you hadn't questioned him or tried to insist that he take you back to the trail anyway. If he hadn't been able to convince you, he'd need to take you by force. Such a thing would have been easy for him to do, and it was probably more common for those like him to take their captured humans while they kicked and screamed.

But he didn't want to traumatize you during the journey to your new home.

Luckily his aura that had been slowly engulfing you was able to influence you enough that you weren't questioning him on much, so the trip would be a peaceful one, although it was marred by how dishonest he was being about all of this.

If only he could just sit you down and explain everything, why he was doing this. But he knew you wouldn't believe him.

No reasonable person would believe him if he told them he was a banshee.

Saying that would only make you feel unsafe, maybe try to run from him, and then you'd end up even more injured in the process, and even more upset when you found that you could no longer leave the mountain.

But even that would be better than the alternative.

Morel just didn't like seeing people die.

The role of a banshee was to warn when death was coming. To let out that unearthly wail so the human marked for death could prepare and make peace with their fate. For Morel, when he saw someone who was marked to die, it looked like a cloud had settled around them. An aura that grew darker and darker as the human came closer to the time of their death until the aura had blackened completely. Then Death came to collect that unfortunate's soul.

And Morel was unable to do anything but give a heads up.

It was depressing. Being part of that cycle, watching as human after human had that cloud around them turn black and vanish as it left their lifeless bodies behind. And during the last years he had spent in the heavily populated areas, he found that more and more people were panicking when they heard his warning as a fear of death had grown stronger as time had gone by. The people who feared for their lives did everything in their power to try and prevent their deaths, and more often than not their attempts to thwart death ended up being what caused it. All because they had heard his warning.

It began to feel as though he was the one responsible for those who had died that way, and that felt even more depressing, to know that they had died because of him. By the end, Morel had grown tired of it all.

So he left.

He left the areas that were overrun with humans and found a home on an ancient mountainside. And for a while, he found some peace.

But time moved forward as it always did, and evidently, people forgot what areas were meant to stay sacred when they put together the hiking trail. It had angered many of his neighbors, but most were compelled to stay away from it and leave the humans alone as long as they stayed on the path.

And yet some of them couldn't do that, and on occasion the ones that strayed would run into some of the more malevolent spirits that resided on the mountain alongside him. He could usually tell when someone would die to the supernatural. The aura about them just had a certain feel to it, but Morel chose to stay out of it completely, not wanting to cause problems with his neighbors.

Even after trying to get away, he was still forced to see that cloud of death.

It was no different when he saw you after you first arrived.

Morel had happened to be at the base of the mountain when he saw you, the death cloud around you one shade off of completely black. You'd be dead before the end of the day. Perhaps during your trip in the woods, he had thought to himself. Yet as he observed you more, he felt that wouldn't be the case. Something told him that you would make it through this hiking trip of yours, but you would die almost immediately after. You seemed pretty healthy, so illness didn't appear to be the cause. An accident, then? That would be more likely. While he couldn't determine what exactly was going to happen, whatever it was would be sudden and violent.

Looking at the rest of your group, he found that none of them were marked for death like you were. Whatever happened after you all left, you would be the only one to die.

Something compelled Morel to keep watch over you, and so he followed behind, listening in on the conversations your friends were having and waiting for you to speak up.

You weren't saying much, however, and when he moved off the trail to walk beside you so he could get a better look at your face, he was taken aback by how dejected you seemed.

Something was eating at you, but you were keeping quiet about it as you continued to follow behind, almost unnoticed by the others in your group.

Your last hours of life were going to be spent with you feeling ignored and lonely, and that depression Morel felt when it came to these things returned. You shouldn't need to die today; you should've had years left of your life, not a scant few hours. It wasn't right, but there was nothing he could do.

Or was there?

An idea came to Morel, and he became lost in his own thoughts as he found himself walking away from the trail as your group came closer to the stairs. He made his way towards what had been a chapel for some long-forgotten deity, mulling over the thought in his head.

There was something he could do to alter your fate, both him and the magic still in the mountain powerful enough to allow him to lay a claim on you. But was it worth angering Death itself to keep you safe?

As he contemplated what to do, he looked back to you.

You had taken your phone out, holding it in a way that made it clear you were aiming to get a picture of the ruins he just so happened to be standing next to.

It took less than a second for him to realize what had happened when you blinked in surprise and took your eyes off of your phone.

You could see him.

You may not have been aware of it, but your eyes met his in that moment. Based off how you looked him over, you weren't able to see him all that clearly, but he could still tell when your eyes met again as you tried to make out any features of his face.

Then one of the people from your group called out and you looked away, and Morel made himself vanish. The confusion was clear when your head turned back and found him to be gone, and you ended up following your group again with your brows furrowed.

It was something that happened on occasion with certain people, another confirmation that you were close to death: as your final hour drew near, the barrier between you and the spiritual realm was thinning and you were beginning to see things that you weren't meant to.

When you looked back one more time, you managed to look in the exact spot where he had been standing, though this time he made sure you couldn't see him. He felt the way your eyes met his again before you turned your head back, that black cloud of death still engulfing you.

Something about your situation and that sight made Morel snap.

Screw fate. He needed to save you.

As he made his decision and began to follow you in earnest, a part of him was aware that saving you wouldn't do anything for the countless people that died every day, but he felt that if he could save at least one person from an unfair and untimely death, he could live better with himself. If he could keep you alive and happy, it was worth it.

He'd been worried that luring you away with the rabbit wouldn't work. You were far enough along that you could see it for what it really was: a creation that he'd made out of mist and smoke. Yet during the time you had spent getting up to the rest area, he had expanded his aura around you for long enough that any reservations you may have had about the slightly horrifying thing before you were easily pushed to the side as he compelled you to go after his creation, to get you further into the woods and by yourself.

He hadn't planned on you getting injured in the process, and when he heard your friends calling for you sooner than he expected he threw his pipe next to you in an act of desperation and just hoped that you would grab it. As long as you picked up something that belonged to him of your own free will, then you would belong to him.

You had done just that. And therefore, he was now free to do whatever he pleased with you.

“Is there a reason why we need to get to your place fast?” you asked him as he carried you back.

“You see how thick the fog is, right? I need to get us there before I lose my way,” Morel said, “can't embarrass myself like that, can I?”

Actually he just wanted to get out of there because of the other being that had been approaching the two of you. As much as he was able to hold influence over you, you would no doubt panic if you saw a headless woman sitting astride a horse casually come up to you.

“That makes sense,” you said. Then you giggled a little to yourself.

“I'm still mad that you laughed at me earlier,” you told him, “so if you do get lost, then I'm allowed to laugh at you.”

“Fair enough. If I get us lost you can laugh at me,” he agreed.

You laughed a little bit more.

“I won't actually do that. If we do get lost I'll probably be more concerned with trying to keep calm.”

“Don't worry; I know this mountain like the back of my hand,” he assured you.

If you had really been thinking about it, you might have questioned him on that. If he knew his way around that well, why couldn't he take you back to the trail? Why was he insisting on taking you back to his home?

But with the way his aura was enveloping you completely, no such thoughts came to mind, and you instead softly rested your head against him, feeling content.

You were rather easy to influence, and that fact made Morel feel badly for manipulating you the way he was.

He'd make it up to you, he told himself. He'd done good by wrapping up your ankle, and now he'd take care of you.

Glancing back at you, he felt satisfied to see that the black cloud of death had vanished. You no longer needed to fear anything like that.

You belonged to him now, and Morel would keep you safe for the rest of eternity.

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

too soon to tell, chapter t w o

You dropped your bag in the foyer of Harry’s house after work on a Thursday. It was quiet--he wasn’t home yet and you’d keyed in knowing that you’d have some time to yourself.

You felt a vibrating in your pocket when you shrugged off your coat, your visible reflection told you it was a FaceTime call, Alyssa’s name danced across the screen until you slid your thumb to answer.

“Hello, hello,” you greeted, walking to find a seat on the couch.

“Where are you?” She furrowed her brows as she took in your surroundings.

“At Harry’s--he’s out, though.”

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “I will never get sick of you lounging in his house when he’s not there.”

You rolled your eyes at your old roommate’s antics--she’d always been the number one supporter of your relationship and when you texted her earlier saying you needed advice, she promised to call on her lunch break.

“I’m not lounging,” you informed with a shake of your head. “I just got out of work, we’re having dinner tonight.”

“Mr. Popstar isn’t too busy?” She teased, aware of the tension both of your schedules had been causing.

“Apparently not.”

She forked a bite of food into her mouth, the sun was shining through the window behind her, the walls of your old apartment were redecorated now with the art of your replacement. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“Sort of,” you leaned back and let out a breath. “I mean, it’s all connected--”

“What is?”

“I’m getting to it,” you made a face at her through the phone. “So--don’t freak out, okay? Cause I don’t even know if anything will come from it and Harry doesn’t know yet.”

She nodded and gestured with her hand for you to get on with it.

Knowing Alyssa, she was already jumping to conclusions in her head. You were pregnant, you were engaged, you quit your job, you had a huge fight with your sister. No, no, no.

“I interviewed for a job in LA...and I haven’t told Harry because all our friends have been so excited about us being in the same spot again but--”

Her eyes went wide at the mention of a US city, she did her best to hold back her smile until it faded when you said: “I don’t know. Something feels off between us.”

“Off between you and Harry? More than just being busy?”

“I’m probably overthinking it but,” you looked around his living room. Pictures of his mum, his sister, his cousins--even his manager--were tucked in frames and placed on shelves. There wasn’t a trace of you in his house except for the toothbrush upstairs and the key on your keyring.

“It feels like we’re not moving forward. And we’ve both been busy, like I’ve told you, but since we don’t live together sometimes we go days without seeing each other and it’s fine, I get that he’s busy, obviously, but--”

“But you want to move in with him.”

“Well, I don’t know--I did, sort of, I think--but then I heard about this job in LA and it sounds amazing but Jessie just moved here and no one will shut up about how great London is.”

Alyssa offered a sympathetic frown and repositioned the bowl in front of her to get another bite. “What’s the job?”

You almost didn’t want to tell her, sure she’d get excited and eager to have you back in the same country. You winced a little, bracing for her reaction. “S’with E! News,” you shrugged. “It’d be on-air.”

“Shut up! Are you serious?!”

“Yes m’serious,” you rolled your eyes. “But I haven’t told any of them because you know how they are.”

She nodded, “Jessie will not want you to take it.”

“God love her, but of course not. And Harry spends time out there, so it might be okay, but it’s not like I could ask him to go with me.”

“Why not? He’s famous, Y/N--he belongs there.”

“It’s too soon,” you whined. “He’s not my fiancé and we don’t live together, so--I don’t want to make it weird.”

“But you love him,” she reasoned.

“Yeah, but s’been weird lately!" You tried to drive home the point. "He’s made no mention of moving in and we’ve been dating for a year and a half, I’ve been in London for over a year now. He’s not even mentioned it, Alyssa, I swear. He’ll say things like ‘one day we can go on vacation,’ and ‘what should we do for Christmas?’ But he’s made no concrete plans to actually have a future with me.”

“Maybe he doesn’t think you’re ready.”

“Maybe he’s not ready,” you volleyed.

“Maybe,” Alyssa shrugged. “But you won’t know if you don’t ask him.”

“But if I ask him and he’s not on the same page I’ll look like an idiot and he’s busy with the album and now I’m thinking about moving to LA and--”

She watched you, waited for you to say more, but you were out of words. You changed gears.

“Maybe we’re just not meant to be long term.”

“Oh come on,” she groaned. “Not this again.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Your whole ‘we should have left it in New York’ shit.”

You lifted your eyebrows to demand further details.

“You were freaked out in the beginning that you’d move back there and it would be weird.”

“And?”

“Was it weird?”

“Not at first, I guess. But I mean, come on---don’t you think we should have taken some kind of step forward by now? Even just mentioning the idea of moving in together?”

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “Maybe it’s different with someone like him.”

You rolled your eyes--what if that’s what you were sick of?

People always said that: it’s different because of his job, it’s different because he’s on the road, it’s different because he’s famous.

Of course it was, and that was fine, for a while. But what if Harry’s job always got in the way of feeling normal? What if you couldn’t have a real wedding because of it? What if you could never send your children to summer camp because of it?

Were you willing to sacrifice your own future to live an unconventional life with someone just because you loved him?

“When will you hear back about the job?”

“Dunno--talked to them last week on Monday and they said this week at some point. S'been a while, so hopefully soon.”

You’d been keeping busy, trying to avoid your personal email at all costs and also making sure that Harry had limited visibility of your screen at all times.

“Do you want it?”

You thought on it for a second. Being offered a job at a company like E! would certainly be an ego boost, but the mere thought of having to explain to all of your friends that yes, you’d been back in London for 18 months and now you were packing up and moving even farther away than before wouldn’t be easy. That seemed to be the one certainty in the whole situation: no one would take it well.

“I don’t want to leave everyone here, especially Harry--but I also don’t want to be stupid and think that this relationship is going somewhere if it’s not.”

Alyssa nodded and let out a sigh. “I get that, I mean, of course you have to do what’s best for you. But I’d hate to see you not be with him just because things are hard right now.”

You leaned your head back on the couch and sighed. You didn’t want to break up with Harry. If anything, you wanted to move forward and move in with him and do what you’d always imagined: have a good job, have a few kids, try to be happy.

But what if you’d been naive enough to think you could have all of that with Harry and what if this is how you were finding out that you couldn’t?

Were you still stuck in your teenage fantasy of marrying the boy you'd long been crushing on?

She watched you for a second before she reassured: “you’ll figure it out.”

You smiled, glad you’d called Alyssa if only to have someone talk you off the edge a little bit. You missed waking up one room over and her love for basketball games and New York 99 cent pizza.

“Well it’s not like I have to make a decision right now,” you said. “I haven’t even heard back from them. For all I know they could never reach out again because I bombed my interview.”

She rolled her eyes at your self-deprecation and offered a few final words of encouragement before you hung up and promised to catch up soon.

Ever since you’d left, Alyssa had taken it upon herself to keep you up to date on the ins and outs of New York. New restaurant? She’d send you pictures and a 200 word review. Crazy subway rats making the news again? Articles and video proof would be sent your way in a matter of hours.

She’d gotten a new roommate to fill your bedroom and apparently things weren’t always peachy between them. Peyton was quiet and shy--according to Alyssa. She was up every morning at 6am and in the shower at 6:30. She did yoga in the living room and hated it when Alyssa left empty beer bottles on the coffee table.

Alyssa was starting to lose her shit, swearing up and down that she needed to either pull the trigger and move in with Owen or find a new place altogether. It was my apartment first, she’d say. She should leave, not me.

It had been hard that year to leave the city you’d grown to love but harder to leave Alyssa and Carly and the things that made New York feel like home. It was also, in hindsight, hard to leave the place where you and Harry reconnected and built the foundation of your current relationship.

You heard commotion from the front door only a few minutes later when you rummaged through Harry’s kitchen for a snack.

“Hi,” he called from the other room, a close-lipped smile when you stuck your head around the corner to greet him.

“Hi! How was the photoshoot?”

“Good,” he nodded, watching as you stuck your hand into a box of crackers. “What time are we meeting everyone?”

Right--Thursday also meant dinner somewhere downtown with everyone in tow.

“7pm--but Jessie said we should try to get there early since it’s a new place and no one’s ever been.”

He nodded in acknowledgement of your words but seemed distracted, like his mind was somewhere else and his body was the only thing tying him to the room.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, looking back up at you. “Just a busy day and a busy week.”

You nodded, unsure if he wanted to say more or if you were supposed to have more of a reply than a simple nod of your head.

You’d both been stammering out awkward sentences and trying to dance around the elephant in the room for a few weeks, but now, under his gaze, you felt more uncertain than before.

“Are you okay?” He turned the question around and watched you closely.

“Yeah,” you shrugged, moving to sit on the couch.

“You seem--off.”

You didn’t know what it was. Could he possibly sense the tension in your shoulders as you waited for an email either way? You got the job! We regret to inform you…

Or was he just aware that you felt awkward since it had been almost two weeks since you had any considerable amount of alone time and even longer since you were able to have a date night that wasn’t interrupted by Jeff or Erica or someone who needed something from him.

He took a few steps closer towards you, a look of concern etched on his features. “What’s wrong?”

The words were on the tip of your tongue when he looked at you, eyebrows lifted as he waited for you to spit it out.

“I guess I feel like we’ve been distant.”

He pushed his head forward, almost like he hadn’t expected that to be the issue. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, caught off guard by his pushiness. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought it up.

“You don’t know?” He pressed.

You broke eye contact with him for a minute, wondering why you had to state the obvious. “Well, you’re busy all the time, Harry.”

He let his shoulders rise and fall in defeat, looking around the room in frustration. “I told you that finishing the album would be busy.”

“Yeah, but you forgot to mention that you’d also be busy when the album is done once promo starts and then tour,” your voice was quiet, not so much angry as you were upset.

You were tired. You wanted nothing more than to spend a night on the couch with him and only him, tell him about LA and about the sudden itch you felt to see more of the world than just London.

But with Jake and Adam always around and Bryn and Jessie, too, paired with interruptions from Jeff and Erica--it felt as if there was no hope for a private or honest conversation.

He came to sit closer to you on the couch now, took your hands in his. “I know my job is a lot, okay? I know it’s annoying that I don’t necessarily get weekends off or have a typical schedule, but once the album is out and the promo is done I’ll have a bit of a break before the tour. We can go on vacation somewhere, just us.”

It sounded nice, maybe a tropical island or a cabin in the woods. But before you could nod in agreement the thought of Los Angeles popped into your head.

His album was due out in December, promo from now through the New Year, some time off in February and March for both of your birthdays and then tour. You had no clue where you’d be by then.

Would you be in LA? Would you be in London? Would you be stuck in this same spot on his couch with decision paralysis and a crushing sense of uncertainty about the future?

He knew you were over-thinking and tilted his head. “What?”

You blew out a slow breath of air, twisted a ring on your finger and then looked up at him again.

You didn’t even have a chance to be more honest, a buzz on your phone on the coffee table in front of you both broke the room in half, the name of the woman you’d spoken to was in bold next to your email icon. You reached for it quickly, Harry’s brows furrowed when you pulled it close to your chest so he wouldn’t see.

“What’s that?”

Hi Y/N, thank you so much for your patience over the last few days. We would love to offer you a position with NBC Universal - E! News as an on-air correspondent in our Los Angeles headquarters.

You looked up at him quickly, cheeks red and heart racing.

“What’s happening, are you okay?”

“I got a job offer,” you said quickly, still holding the phone close to you.

“What?” He smiled, “why didn’t you tell me you were looking? I didn’t even know--”

“It’s in Los Angeles.”

His smile faded instantly, he blinked a few times like he must have misheard you. The leather of his couch felt cool beneath your legs, a clock on the wall ticked and for a second, you wondered if he could hear your pulse as loudly as you could.

He pulled his eyes away from you but then quickly scanned over your face. “Are you taking it?”

“I don’t know,” you said honestly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Silence, words filled your brain and crawled up the back of your throat, desperate to be said out loud, in real life, instead of just circling in your head.

Because I don’t know what we’re doing or if we’re moving forward. I don’t know where I want to live. I don’t know if I can stay in London forever. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.

Only the last part made it out between your lips. “I don’t know.”

“Y/N,” he stood up, more angry now as he looked around the room and scratched at the base of his neck. “This kind of feels like a bombshell to drop on someone.”

“I was going to tell you--but we haven’t had a second alone, I just didn’t want to have to tell everyone before I knew what was happening.”

“You didn’t even tell me you interviewed,” he said.

“The last time I saw you alone we got interrupted by Erica three times in one conversation.”

“Probably for a good reason--”

“But you seriously can’t even put your phone down lately when we have dinner, even when everyone else is there!”

“I can’t help it that my work is insanely busy right now!”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” you said this quickly, voice higher than usual and a heat on your skin that he normally didn’t provoke, at least not in a bad way. You stood from the couch and put your hands on your hips. “I don’t know what I’m going to do and I don’t even know if this job is right for me and under no circumstances are you allowed to tell anyone. Especially Jessie.”

He rolled his eyes at that.

“What’s the eye roll for?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Everyone just got back and now you might leave and--”

“I said I don’t know if I’m going to take it.”

He was quiet at that, clucked his tongue in thought but then disappeared upstairs to shower and change.

The car ride over was awkward, he asked how your day had been and you told him you talked to Alyssa, he bristled when you admitted you told her about it.

It wouldn’t be the end of the conversation, you were sure of that. You’d likely end up at his for the night and he’d apologize for being busy, you’d apologize for not telling him and maybe, you hoped, he’d ask you to stay over.

When you greeted Adam with a hug, you ignored Harry’s sour mood and opened the menu in front of you.

“My first dinner as a Londoner,” Jessie smiled, shimming her shoulders in excitement when Bryn looked over the specials across the table from you.

“This is on you, right? New job, new salary?” Jake teased.

“Maybe if I hadn’t just bought a whole new bedroom set,” she rolled her eyes.

“How’s everything with you?” Adam eyed Harry, his question veiled to avoid too many details in public.

Luckily, Harry’s ability to go out in public in London was similar to that in New York. As long as a private room or a table in the back was requested, he could typically get away unscathed if dinner was less than 2 hours and if he had his back to the dining room.

“Fine,” he shrugged, eyes still down at the drink menu.

“Fine?” Jessie leaned forward, her tone insinuating that she didn’t believe him. “You’ve been working really hard all summer and now all you say is ‘fine?’”

He glanced up at her, lips in a forced smile. “S’all good, Jess--just tired.”

Bryn gave you a look, one that asked what stick is up his ass?, before she changed the topic.

“Let’s not tell our server how fit she is tonight, yeah?”

Jake let out a snort of a laugh and sipped at the water that had already been brought to your table. “Alright, you thought the one last week was just as hot as I did.”

“I did,” Bryn agreed seriously, “but I didn’t offer my number unsolicited. How do you know she’s even straight?”

“She’s got a point,” Jessie chimed in. “Remember when you asked that girl to dance in the club when her girlfriend was right there with her arm around her?”

“I thought they were just mates!” Jake defended.

“You also have the worst radar for gay women ever,” Bryn nodded.

“When was this?” Harry asked, the hint of a smile on his face when he watched Jake adjust his napkin on his lap.

The words came out of your mouth without thought. “You weren’t here--you were in LA.”

He met your eyes when you replied, nodded, and then leaned back in his chair, effectively bowing out of the conversation without saying another word.

You weren’t trying to be short with him. You looked over to Jessie, who undoubtedly sensed the tension, and offered a smile. “How’s the flat?”

“Good,” she nodded. “Glad that all my furniture got put together without any scratches,” she reached over and patted Adam on the shoulder.

“We’re not children, Jessie, we can handle some furniture.”

“You broke my dresser when I asked you guys to move it into another room,” Bryn reminded, a look of confusion on her face at Adam’s retort.

“Only because it was already half broken and a piece of shit,” Jake said. “I love you, Brynnie, but that dresser was already knocking on Heaven’s door.”

Harry let out a laugh at that, another memory that he had missed while on a trip to a studio somewhere north of London. He excused himself to the bathroom after you placed your orders, and once he was out of earshot, Jake leaned down and looked at you.

“What’s going on with him?”

You forced a cheesy grin and blinked a few times. “He’s just grumpy.”

“‘Bout what?” Bryn asked.

“Guys,” you leaned back in your chair, hoping you didn’t have to say too much. “I can’t tell you every single thing that happens in our relationship.”

“Well, when it affects us I think we have the right to know,” Jessie shrugged, playing the typical we don’t like when our parents fight card.

“It’s not affecting you,” you shook your head, eyed her seriously over your glass of Pinot Noir.

Adam shrugged, a smirk on his face let you know he was trying to rile you up. “He’s grumpy at dinner and we’re all here and we’re all aware of it. We don’t like tension between you two.”

“Alright, leave the woman alone,” Jake waved them off. “As long as everything’s alright.”

“It’s totally alright,” you nodded, wondering when you’d gotten so comfortable lying to them. “He’s just busy with the next phase of work.”

With Harry’s album yet to be announced, you couldn’t sit around in a London restaurant and divulge details--even if you were all acutely aware of the work he’d put in and the upcoming announcements and events.

Adam let it go. “How’s work for you, Smalls?”

Another shrug of your shoulders, “s’good--I told you all about my November cover story, right?”

“Yeah,” Jessie sipped a glass of Cabernet. “But you said you didn’t know who it was going to be with.”

“Well, s’cause I had to drop the bomb on him first,” you nodded in the direction of the bathroom. “I’ll be sitting down in a few days with Ms. Gigi Hadid,” you lowered your voice and leaned forward to say her name.

Bryn’s eyes went wide, Jake grimaced.

“How’d he take that?” Adam asked.

“He’s not thrilled,” you admitted. “But I’ll talk with his team about what to avoid specifically, I guess. Her team will probably have a list of off-limits items too.”

Bryn let her elbows rest on the white tablecloth. “Yeah, but, you can’t just ignore the fact that she’s dating Zayn.”

“I also can’t just barge in and stir shit up,” you said.

Harry pulled his chair out next to you and sat back down. “Who are you stirring shit up with?”

Everyone chose to be quiet now--Adam looked down at his phone and Jessie reached for her wine again.

“Just telling them about my cover story,” you admitted, watching his face for a reaction.

He nodded, a tiny smirk in your direction. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t stir shit up,” he said, reaching to put a hand on your thigh beneath the table.

Those were the moments that made you feel less panicky--the realization that he was still choosing you and even when the tension was high and the mood was low, he’d reach over and remind you that yes, he cared. Even if he was late to dinner or distracted.

Which is why, when you got back in his car that night and headed for his house, you were surprised when his mood shifted again.

“I’ll just drop you at yours?”

“Oh--yeah, sure.”

“Did you want to come to mine?” He looked over at you like he hadn’t expected any resistance to sleeping separately.

You were quiet for a second--not if he didn’t want you there. “No, it’s fine.”

“I can’t read your mind, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to,” you said quickly, a prickly tone to your words when he made an unreadable face.

He drove in silence for a few minutes, closing in on your neighborhood when the street lamps disappeared for the sake of suburbia.

Eventually he cleared his throat and that sent you over the edge.

“What do you want me to say, Harry? Do you want me to apologize for interviewing for this job?”

“No,” he said simply. “I just don’t know why you thought you didn’t need to tell me about a huge decision like that.”

“It wasn’t a decision until today when they offered it to me.”

“Just seems like something you talk to your boyfriend about.”

You looked over at him in the dark of night, the glow from the dashboard didn’t help you see his features as he turned left onto your street.

“Well, sorry that we didn’t have the opportunity to talk about it between your work schedule and Jessie moving in and group dates--”

He slowed down on your street, put his flashers on when he stopped in front of your building. “I don’t want to keep secrets from each other,” his voice was softer now. “I don’t want to not know what’s going on in your life. I did enough of that for two years when we weren't talking.”

You sighed at this, the sentiment broke whatever anger was lurking inside you and when you looked up to see him, you wondered if you should ask him.

Are we ever going to move in together? Are we ever going to get engaged?

You figured the lead up to his sophomore album wasn’t the best time for that conversation. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you climbed the stairs to your flat alone.

**

A few days later you sat nervously in a conference room and watched as beads of sweat formed on the water glass in front of you. Tyler had brought you in, offered you a breath mint, and promised you’d be fine. When you asked him if the whole room was hot he said it was just you and your nerves--but the droplets of water that raced towards the wooden conference table begged to differ.

You’d gotten email after email this morning: one from Jeff with the rules he and Harry had come up with and eight from Gigi’s team with requests for snacks, topics to discuss, topics to avoid, lunch request, arrival and departure time, and a few extra regarding booking her photoshoot the next day.

A text lit up your screen when you tried to smooth your your hair in the reflection of your screen.

Jake Newcomb (10:42am): In case you’re wondering what to get me for my birthday, a video of Gigi Hadid saying she loves me would be perfect!

You ignored his text and felt a pang of disappointment in your gut, you thought it would have been Harry with words of encouragement.

He was fine with you doing the interview, he seemed to come around to the idea when he met with Jeff and had a chance to mark some things as off limits.

So far, his list was as follows:

Don’t publish anything too negative about anyone in the band (if she says anything negative about anyone in the band)

Harry and Jeff got to listen to the taped interview

Harry and Jeff got to read the article before you sent it off to your editor and could make suggestions to cut things if they felt it necessary.

It seemed silly, but you’d long been used to the lingo of contracts and riders and ground rules for things like these. You knew both Harry and Jeff trusted you, in fact, Jeff was now choosing to see this as a good opportunity for press before the announcement of Harry’s album.

Your biggest concern, truly, was not looking/sounding/acting like an idiot in a room alone with Gigi Hadid. Your second biggest concern was conducting a unique interview and writing a unique article.

You knew that Naomi and Tyler were nearby for support if needed, Tyler had already walked by the conference room three times to see if your subject had arrived and likely to make sure you hadn’t sweat through your blouse. You thought the commotion in the hallway was him until you saw a group of busy-looking people with cellphones and sunglasses.

“Hi,” you stood from your chair, extended a hand in her direction and offered your best professional smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Gigi, thanks for doing this interview.”

She seemed hesitant at first, smiled a little and shook your hand. “Happy to,” she said. She turned over her shoulder and locked eyes with the woman who seemed to be the most in-charge of the group. “I’m good,” she nodded.

They hustled out quickly, you stood frozen in place and watched as she took off her coat before sitting in the chair you’d pulled out for her. Once the door was shut behind her posse, she let out a sigh that bled into a frustrated laugh.

“I could never do an interview with all of them just loitering around--wouldn’t that be so weird?”

You nodded, mirrored her smile and had to remind your body how to move. Left foot, right, breathe, sit in the chair.

You weren’t really one to get star struck, but then again, you didn’t spend too much time with celebrities that weren’t Harry or his close friends. You certainly never sat down with a model like Gigi to have a conversation that could be as awkward as this one.

She checked her phone quickly but then put it face down on the table. “I am happy to do this, I know it might feel weird for us to be hanging out--but boys are stupid anyway.”

You smiled at this, immediately relaxed when she leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs.

“Did you also get a whole list of things to not talk to me about?”

She stifled a laugh and rolled her eyes. “Zayn can be a man of few words but,” she looked down at your phone on the table. “Off the record--he had quite a bit to say when I told him you were doing the interview.”

“Off the record,” you laughed, “Harry did too. But how is Zayn?”

“He’s good--thinking about getting back in the studio at some point to start working on a new album, he’s been writing a bunch. Harry’s doing the same I assume?”

“Yes, yeah, he’s been really busy.”

“I know things might not have gone great between all of them at the end, but I don’t want this to be awkward for us.”

“Me neither. You can say as much or as little about the band as you’d like.”

She nodded, you figured it was time to give your pre-interview spiel.

“So, I’ll record us in a few seconds, you can obviously say ‘off the record’ if there’s something you don’t want me to include, but I like my interviews to be like conversations, basically. I’ll send someone on your team the recording when we’re done and a typed transcript. You’ll have 48-hours to look over it and revoke any statements that you don’t want me publishing or to clarify anything. After that I’ll write the story, send a final copy to your team before it gets finalized here, again, 48-hours to look it over and request any changes but at that time we don’t have to approve the requests. This is all in a document somewhere that someone probably signed for you--I’m sure your team is used to it, they know what they’re doing.”

You reached forward and pressed a few buttons on your phone, she watched until you looked up and told her: “It’s on now, so we’re recording and today is September 10th, 2019.”

She smiled like you were old friends. “Where do we start?”

“Is there somewhere you want to start?”

She leaned her head to the side. “We can jump right to it--”

“To what?”

“Oh come on,” she laughed. “Us talking about One Direction will make headlines for weeks.”

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “It’s funny that us just sitting down together will be a big deal, right? As if we’ve got nothing better to talk about than them.”

“Sexism at it’s finest,” she admitted.

“Do you find that a lot in your industry?”

She thought on this for a second, looked out the window but nodded. “It’s unavoidable, in a lot of ways. I think there have been a lot of changes over the last few years to at least move us in the right direction, but we’ve got a long way to go.”

“How would you want to see it change for the better?”

“Well, I’d love to have more privacy about my love life, for one,” she caught herself, looked to you quickly as if she felt bad. “Off the record, we can talk about it here, it’s fine. It’s different to talk about it with a woman, number one. And you’re you, you get it.”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” you offered.

“No, I don’t mind. Unless you plan on asking me stupid things like how amazing is it to be dating someone as handsome as him or do I find that his job overshadows mine, we’re good. We can be back on the record, too,” she looked down at the numbers on your phone, eyeing the ticking of the recording clock.

“But do you know what I mean? No one asks guys questions like that--or they’re different, at least. People just want to know everything about your relationship when you’re a woman and they view you in the context of who you’re sleeping with.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I get that.”

She smiled, “it’s hard to date someone famous, isn’t it? Lots of rules around it.”

You were surprised by the genuine look in her eyes, despite her own status and contracts and income, she seemed to be acknowledging that the two of you shared a unique experience and were now brought together under strange circumstances.

“It’s definitely hard for me--but, isn’t it easier seeing as you also have an assistant and a manager and people to, I don’t know, facilitate things? Not to invalidate how hard it still is.”

She laughed at that, “Yeah, in some ways, probably. He’s really private though, which is good for us. We focus on ourselves and do our own thing most of the time.”

“Right--you seem pretty private about it for the most part.”

“Yeah,” she shrugged, reflecting on your words for a second. “I think to me it feels weird that my relationship status can make so much news, you know? Modeling is my job and obviously that’s not your typical nine-to-five but--I like to focus on my work and when male journalists are continuously obsessed with my love life, I find that weird. I mean, you get that, right? I’m sure it’s no different with Harry.”

You bit your lip, embarrassed at how she’d managed to turn it around. She was right--you’d been getting more and more annoyed with how much your relationship with Harry was dictating your life--and for some reason, you admitted this to her.

“People are much more interested in me because I’m dating him--but they’d be just as interested in you even if you weren’t.”

“Would they?” She tilted her head to the side, another rise and fall of her shoulders as she looked around the room. “I get what you’re saying, but sometimes it feels like dating him gave my career a huge boost. I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, I totally get it. I feel the same way. I was building my career in New York and it was going well and I was writing fun stuff and making a name for myself and then I started hanging out with him and--”

“Everyone started to care more about you?”

“Exactly.”

You thought about the headlines, the articles, the pictures in tabloids that undoubtedly helped your name spread like wildfire through London and New York. You had to ignore it, most of the time, reassure yourself that you were a good journalist and a good employee and the good things in your career were not just a byproduct of the boy who slept in your bed.

She smiled knowingly, her lips in a thin line when she looked down to the tape recorder, almost like she felt guilty for steering the conversation in a different direction.

“Sorry,” you cleared your throat, sitting up straight. “Back to business.”

The conversation bled into more normal things: the upcoming fall fashion week, how she manages self-care when she’s busy jetting from city to city, and, try as you might, the two of you wound your way back to your commonalities a few times: sexism in your industries, life as young women dating famous men.

You thanked her profusely at the end and promised that Tyler would be in touch to confirm the date and time for her corresponding photoshoot later that week. She draped a Versace leather tote over her shoulder and seemed to float out of the office with a posse of beautiful people behind her.

You stood--still awestruck--in the hallway and watched as the elevator doors slid shut.

“She’s prettier in person,” Tyler said from beside you, a notebook in hand as he stared at the air she’d once occupied. “I didn’t know if that type of thing was possible but she’s definitely one of the prettiest humans I’ve ever seen.”

“She was nice,” you turned around to see Naomi behind him, also eager for more details. You headed back for your office in a trance, they scurried behind you as you thought aloud. “I mean, I didn’t think she’d be rude--but I didn’t know what to expect with the whole band history stuff.”

“Did you talk about that?”

“Less about the band and more about--” you blinked a few times and sat down at your desk, “sexism, what it’s like to be a woman dating a famous man and how that affects your career.”

Both of their eyes went wide, a smile tugged at Naomi’s lips when Tyler put a hand over his heart in shock.

“I’m sorry, so you’re telling me that you just had a heart to heart with Gigi Hadid about sexism and your boyfriends and--”

“I guess so,” you shrugged, just as surprised as they were.

**

You gave Harry fewer details that night over FaceTime as you brushed your teeth. He was somewhere in New York, disappointed that he’d miss Jake’s birthday dinner and celebration, but he promised to make it up to him when he got back.

He lifted a cup of tea to take a sip, light shone through the window behind him on your screen and he scrolled through emails on his laptop.

You spit into the sink, an ocean between you.

“Have you thought at all about the offer? You have to tell them by tomorrow, yeah?”

You nodded, wiped at your mouth with a towel and then crossed your arms. “I can stay, I mean--if you want me to.”

He made a face at that, leaned forward and furrowed his brows together. “Of course I want you to stay, Y/N, but I don’t want to be the reason you pass on something important."

You were quiet for a second, uncapped lotion before spreading some across your forehead.

"I'm sorry I didn't react well when you told me. I'm proud of you and it sounds like a phenomenal opportunity...I don't know, it's just the timing of it--"

You cut him off, “well none of this is ideal timing, Harry.”

“Do you mean with my album?”

“I mean with any of it,” you said truthfully. “The album, the job offer--”

“Well the album existed before the job offer,” he trailed off.

Only a matter of seconds and a handful of words had managed to get you elevated and angry and ready to fight. That was happening more easily, these days.

“So what am I supposed to do? Always come second? Make every decision in my life based off of your career and your music?”

“S’not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that--I dunno--I thought you knew what you were getting into.”

Quiet, your hands gripped the counter in your bathroom. Your bare feet were on the floor and you wondered why you were trying so hard to make everything work if things were only getting harder.

“That came out wrong,” he shook his head, the look on his face let you know he wanted to take it back.

“No, it didn’t." You let out a sharp laugh. "I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Take the job,” he said quickly, like he saw you reaching for the button to end the FaceTime call.

“What?”

“Take it. If it’ll make you happy, take it.”

“And what about us?”

“We figure it out,” he shrugged. “We try.”

You sighed, unsure what to say.

"It's Los Angeles," he said. "Not Antarctica."

You blew air between your lips, looked up at him for a second. The curl of hair that dipped onto his forehead, the way his mouth pulled up in the corner like it always had.

“I love you, Y/N. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

His words didn’t offer any relief and you spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, tossing and turning and wondering how on earth you were supposed to make a decision.

Leaving him in London felt stupid. A few bumps in the road and you were ready to jump ship?

But staying and hoping for a ring or a shared address felt even stupider, somehow. You couldn’t pass up a dream job and hope that things would go well for your career if you weren’t going to work for it.

A few hours of rest came after 3am, your morning coffee was a tad bitter and the clouds in the sky seemed to match your mood. Maybe you should have spent more time thinking it over, talking it out, even calling your mum or Katie for advice.

But you couldn’t have told everyone about the job offer without a certain answer, and unfortunately, the person you wanted to talk to the most didn’t seem like he could be impartial.

You’d been upset, you’d been feeling disconnected from him, but that didn’t erase all of the good times and the happy memories you’d made, right?

Naomi and Tyler locked themselves in your office for lunch on Friday, they promised that they’d never tell your boss and they swore they supported you either way. Tyler used an expo marker to make a pros and cons list of staying in London and Naomi came up with a points system for each bullet on the list.

You stared at it, looked at the names of all of your friends, your family, your favorite cafes and restaurants in London. At the very bottom of what had become a long list of reasons to stay was his name.

And on the other side, Tyler’s poor drawing of an engagement ring sat beside a big question mark.

You didn’t know what the future held for you and Harry, and maybe that was okay. You didn’t know what would happen when you packed your life into a suitcase and moved to New York, but you’d survived to tell the tale.

They were quiet, eyes darting from the board back to you as they waited for you to say something.

You sighed, Tyler shifted on the couch in your office and Naomi smoothed out her blouse.

“I can’t take it,” you said.

Tyler’s eyes went wide, “really? You’re staying?”

“I can’t leave,” you shrugged. “I can’t leave him behind and leave my friends and start all over in a new city right as I’m really finding my groove here again.”

“Okay, I know we said we’d support you either way but I would have been fucking pissed if you went,” Tyler admitted, moving closer to wrap his arms around you.

You laughed, let him squeeze you before Naomi joined in.

“Me too,” she confessed, a smile on her face when she pulled away. “But I would have at least faked happy for you.”

You bit back the doubt and second-guessing, used their excitement to fuel a regretful email.

Thank you so much for the opportunity, but after careful consideration I cannot accept this position due to the geographical location.

Your thumb hovered over the small blue arrow, a wave of panic flooded through you when you hit send, like somehow, something inside of you knew that everything was about to change.

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tag list: @thurhomish @styles217 @ursamajor603 @mleestiles @determined-overthinker @g0bl1nqueen @hsfics @sing-me-a-song-harry @theresnooneheretosave @cronias13 @rainbowbutterflyboy @unknown7549

AN: apologies in advance for the cliffhanger......except I'm not sorry lmao

[newtonsheffield]

I adore all your fics but something about A Letter You Never Read is making me flail even more then usual, bravo! Amazing job and congrats on 6 months of Bridgerton and Sons :D How does the first family dinner that Anthony brings Kate to post-ALYNR go?

I am truly shocked at the response this fic has gotten tbh

This might sound ridiculous, but I genuinely didn't think anyone would care . It was, like everything I write, pure self indulgence.

Anon Also asked: I think it would be hilarious to see Kate meeting the bridgertons in a letter you never read - I can imagine violet being beside herself with joy and the boys wanting to tell her all about Anthony pining after her 😂

Okay! Let's see Kate at her first Bridgerton family event.

Anthony had tried to say it so casually, she knew he had, but Kate knew what this meant to him, knew how much he probably wanted her to say yes. "No pressure or anything, but my Mum's invited you for dinner this week." She'd stilled, Newton nipping at her fingers, sitting in her lap. She knew really, what he was asking her, three weeks into their relationship. He wanted her to meet his family, to start twining their lives more firmly together. And as much as she liked the idea, as much as she liked the idea that her boyfriend wanted to let her into his life even more than he already had, it made her nervous. Anthony ran his hand through his hair nervously. "Forget I said anything." "I would love to meet your family." She said quickly, her hand on his arm to calm him, even though her heart was pounding. "Fair warning though, next week my Dad wants to meet you." And his smile had been so beautiful it had stolen her heart from her chest.

SO here she was, standing outside certainly the biggest house she'd ever been invited into, a bouquet of flowers clenched tightly in her fist. She'd panicked on the phone to Mary last night, "Mary he wants me to meet his family. What if they absolutely can't stand me?! What if his mum thinks I'm stupid and his Dad thinks I'm trash?! He'll break up with me and this will all be a humiliating footnote on the rest of my life!" Mary had sighed, "Sweetheart, have you seen yourself? The Bridgertons are going to love you. Besides, I've met Edmund and Violet and they're lovely just be yourself." Privately Kate thought that nothing good could come from being herself. That was hw she was in this mess to begin with.

Anthony's hand was warm in hers, his smile bright when he said, "Relax, Kate, they're really excited to meet you, and they're going to love you. I think my Mum already does." and then, before she could respond, Anthony had swung open the door, and they'd nearly been swallowed whole by the chaos. A boy who would be barely older than ten was standing at the tope of the stairs screaming "Hyacinth stood on my AT-AT walker lego and wrecked it!" A girl who must be Hyacinth given the slightly smug expression was saying "It was bad anyway!" Eloise and Francesca, who Kate had already met were appearing to be placing bets on which of their siblings would prevail as the two on the stairs started wrestling.

"What the hell?!" Anthony said, a little alarmed and everyone stopped. He appeared to be shooting murderous glances at each of his siblings, before an apologetic one at Kate, who could barely hold in her laughter at the chaos unfolding before her. "Anthony?!" A woman's voice called out, "Are you here sweetheart?" Anthony barely had time to call out "Yes, Mum!" Before a woman appeared, much younger than Kate would have thought honestly, her dark hair swept back off her face, her eyes alight with excitement, followed by a man who looked so startlingly like Anthony Kate nearly dropped her flowers.

"Hyacinth, let go of your brother immediately!" Anthony's mother hissed, gesturing wildly to her husband to do something about the situation. Anthony's father's solution was to sweep towards his youngest child and lift her onto his shoulders, forcibly breaking the headlock she had her brother in. Anthony cleared his throat.

"Mum, Dad, this is Kate Sheffield." He said quietly, his hand squeezing hers tightly, a small smile on his face as he finished, "She's my girlfriend." his mother made a soft cooing noise as though the prospect delighted her "Katie, this is my Mum and Dad, Hyacinth and Gregory and Eloise and Francesca who you met the other week." Anthony finished, gesturing to everyone. "Yes, we did meet the other week, didn't we Frankie? Not that we really got a chance to speak, Anthony was rather-" Eloise had started, but Anthony's mother clearly sensing danger interrupted.

"Kate! It's so lovely to finally meet you." She said, a little too loudly, and before Kate could react she was swept into a very tight hug, the flowers she'd brought held limply behind her back. "It's lovely to meet you as well, Mrs. Bridgerton." Kate said still feeling a little awkward and she pulled back. "And you, Mr. Bridgerton." She turned to his father who was looking at her with a strange mix of curiosity and pride. "Oh please, Violet's fine." Violet said taking Kate's hand and breezing from the room. "My goodness you're even more beautiful than I remember, no wonder Anthony's in such a state." Kate felt her cheeks flush. "Now we are just so so glad that you and Anthony reconnected, oh he just liked you so much in school. We all knew it but the poor boy was far too nervous to do anything about it." Kate felt her eyebrows raise, surprised that his mother would know who she was by name alone. "Mum!" Anthony said, his cheeks burning as he scampered after them, "Well, it's true, son. Vi, do you remember that time Anthony got hit in the head with a football because Katie Sheffield" he said the name in a dreamy sigh, "Walked past?"

Kate felt laughter bubble in her chest, her nerves slipping away. "Edmund, you're embarrassing him." Violet said lightly, forcing Kate into a seat at the breakfast bar in the Kitchen, Anthony plopping into the seat beside her, looking adorably petulant, She took his hand squeezing tightly and a small smile came to his face. "You're both embarrassing me." he muttered, his ears burning red, worsening as Kate kissed his cheek. "Excuse me, Kate." Gregory said politely, looking quite nervous as she turned towards him. "Anthony said that you have a puppy." "Anthony said, you have a puppy together." Hyacinth corrected eyeing Anthony who quickly said. "I didn't, I said Kate had a puppy. Katie I didn't tell them we got a dog together." He said quickly, his eyes horrified. And honestly, he needn't be so embarrassed, everything about this evening was only making her feel even closer to Anthony than she already felt, even more in love with him than she was, not that she could tell him that.

Gregory sighed, nudging his sister, "Anyway, um, me and Hyacinth were wondering if maybe we could meet the puppy?" He looked so adorably nervous to have asked, so much like a younger version of Anthony that Kate felt her stomach clench. "Mate, you can't ask people if you can meet their-" Anthony started, but Kate cut across him. "Next time I come, I'll bring him for you to see, he loves meeting new people. Maybe we can take him to the park sometime." Anthony was looking at her with such an odd expression, almost as if he were in awe of the very simple thing she'd just done. Gregory and Hyacinth high fived, tearing from the room.

"Well as I live and breathe if it isn't Katie Sheffield!" Benedict Bridgerton's voice boomed through the Kitchen, clearly just arrived. Kate smiled. "It's been a long time, Ben." She said as Benedict nudged Anthony out of the way to talk to her. "Oh too long. I had to listen to this one cry on the phone for months after you blocked him on Instagram." "I didn't block him." Kate said quickly, anxiety swirling in her stomach. Anthony swatted at his brother's ear, and just when she thought it couldn't possibly be more manic, and voice boomed. "My Lord, Anthony! Katie Sheffield's in the kitchen! The very reason you spent so much time in the shower is right here in the-" Colin's voice was cut off by a groan as Anthony's elbow connected with his stomach.

When Kate returned to the room sometime later having had to take a call she heard her boyfriend hissing. "Why can you not just be as cool as I am about this?! Why do you have to embarrass me?!" "Anthony, you look like a horny beetroot." a voice said Dryly. "Colin!" Edmund Bridgerton admonished and then, "But he isn't wrong Anthony." Kate couldn't help but Kiss Anthony very soundly when she returned to her seat next to him, unable to stop herself, affection overflowing for him, the room filled with awkward silence as soon as she appeared.

"I'm really fucking sorry about my family." Anthony groaned as they slid into the car, his forehead slumping against hers. Kate chuckled, "They love you, and they're happy that you're happy. It's nice." Anthony groaned again. "And besides, when you meet my family, it'll be way worse for you than that."

[mintaka14]

This is the start of my newest multi-chapter Lukanette story, and a Dammit Quick! fic. To the LBSC crowd - you’re all a pack of enablers, so have some Disney music-nerd angst/fluff with a Julerose wedding for good measure.

See the Light

A Miraculous Ladybug fanfiction

By Mintaka14

Chapter One – All Those Years

 Luka Couffaine got the shock of his life when, six months before his sister’s wedding, his past walked onto the boat. She moved with an assurance that she’d never had at fourteen. A little older at twenty-four, a little less arms-and-legs and a little more rounded curves, but still with those same devastating blue eyes.

Her hand curled on the rail, and he realised he was staring.

“Luka,” she said. “Hi.”

“Ma-ma-marinette,” he managed, and that mouth of hers lifted in a tentative smile. “It’s been a while.”

“It’s been a while,” she agreed softly. “How are you?”

He said something, he wasn’t sure what.

“I take it Juleka didn’t mention that I was coming,” she said. “I’ve offered to design the dresses for the wedding, and she suggested I come round today to talk about them. Are you… is it okay that I’m here?”

At that, Luka jolted out of his distraction and offered her a more genuine smile.

“Marinette, it’s more than okay. It’s good to see you again. You’re looking well.”

Her own smile grew a little brighter, and she flicked a quick glance down and back up to meet his eyes again. “So are you.”

“Marinette! You made it!” Rose’s shriek cut off any response he might have made. Rose barrelled up the steps from the galley and past him to engulf Marinette in a tight hug, with Juleka not far behind. Luka had a moment to collect himself while they caught up. All in all, he thought he’d handled it pretty well. He hadn’t actually swallowed his tongue.

Marinette flashed a brief, rueful smile at him over her shoulder as Rose towed her below deck, leaving Luka to pull his scattered thoughts together. He hadn’t seen her in ten years and she could still bowl him over at first sight. He turned absently to the stack of papers he’d been working on when she arrived, barely seeing them.

He hadn’t made much progress half an hour later, and gave up, heading down to the galley. A burst of laughter drew his attention and in the other room he could see Marinette wielding a tape measure around his sister with brisk efficiency, while Rose sat on the table, swinging her legs as she flicked through a plain black sketchbook. He’d seen plenty of the same type of book back when he’d been spending a lot of time with Marinette all those years ago. He leaned in the doorway, unnoticed, watching Marinette at work.

It had always been hard to define exactly what made Marinette so overwhelming whenever he saw her. Maybe it was the sense of intensity and creative fire, as if her skin could barely contain everything that she was, or the fierce, giving heart that shone within her. Maybe it was the endless blue of her eyes that spoke to him of a limitless horizon. It seemed like none of that had changed.

What had changed was the dizzying rush he felt as she bent to pick up something and he found himself following the tight curve of her jeans and the contour of her strong, lean legs. He jerked his wayward gaze away, trying to fight down the heat in his cheeks and the fleeting speculation about what it might be like to have those legs wrapped around him, and those beautiful eyes of hers on him while he … God, Couffaine, get your mind out of the gutter! It had been ten years since he’d last seen her, and these were not appropriate thoughts to be having barely thirty minutes and less than a handful of words of conversation after she’d turned up in his life again.

She had always been a pretty girl, but that was nothing to the gorgeous woman she’d grown into.

He would have bet money that the jeans hugging those legs like a second skin were her own design, and the silky red shirt sliding artfully off one shoulder but never quite falling looked like it had come straight from the fashion week runway. The way Marinette filled it, though, was far more distracting than any model could have ever made it.

The pigtails were another thing that was gone, but he didn’t spare them more than a moment of nostalgia, because the blue-black satin of her hair was caught up in a knot that left the smooth line of her neck bare, and that was a whole other train of thought that he cut off quickly. He looked up to find that she was watching him with a quizzical expression, and he managed to answer it with a smile of his own before Rose noticed him standing there.

“Luka!” she called out. “You have got to see what Marinette’s come up with for us!”

She was practically bouncing, and shoved the sketchbook at him. He looked at Marinette, one eyebrow raised in a question, before he opened it.

“If Marinette’s okay with that,” he said. Marinette’s mouth lifted in a smile at that.

“Marinette’s okay with that,” she told him, and he opened the cover. The slim book was full of designs and scribbled ideas and notes on wedding dresses. He’d seen her fourteen year old designs, and been impressed by them, but this… this was a whole other level, which, he supposed, wasn’t surprising. He turned through the pages slowly. He paused on one that was clearly meant for Juleka.

“Wow,” he said softly.

“That’s one of my favourites, too,” Marinette said. She’d come to look over his shoulder, and he was finding that rather unsettling for some reason. “Juleka’s so elegant, she could wear just about anything, but I like that structure for her.”

“It feels like her.” He glanced up at Marinette. “Dangerous edges, with just a bit of sweetness underneath.”

Marinette turned another few pages, and waited for Luka to find it.

“Rose,” he grinned back at her. “Channelling her inner Disney princess?”

“The brief was Sleeping Beauty, live action, but more -” Marinette gestured extravagantly, opening her eyes wide, and from the table where she was perched, Rose stuck out her tongue at them.

“It’s my wedding, and I’ll princess if I want to,” Rose sniffed.

Luka glanced back at the sketch, and was impressed all over again. Marinette had somehow turned flowers and glitter and pink and Rose into a few lines of charcoal and caught it on the page. Her own special brand of magic.

On the other side of the room, Juleka looked up from her phone.

“I’ve just ordered takeaway, and Ivan and Mylène are on their way,” she told them, and levelled a look at Marinette. “You are staying, aren’t you?”

By the time Marinette had been talked into it, and Ivan and Mylène had turned up in a bustle of exclamations and hugs and chatter, Luka had recovered something of his equilibrium. As darkness fell over the river and the lights strung up across the boat spilled a soft light over the deck, Luka handed Marinette a glass of wine and settled into the deck chair beside her.

“You’re wearing a tie these days,” she said with a hint of mischief, and he glanced down at the shirt he’d rolled up over his tattooed forearms and the tie he’d forgotten he was still wearing. “I never pictured you in the kind of career that would need a tie.”

He pulled himself together enough to smile easily back at her. “Well, it’s been a while. A few things have changed. I see you’re not wearing those pigtails anymore,” he teased her, and her hand went to the soft satin twist of her hair.

“No.” Marinette leaned back in the chair, her wine glass in hand, and her eyes were on Rose and Ivan arguing amicably about something. There was an indefinable sense of distance in her that had never been there when they were kids, and he wondered what had happened to put that there.

“So when did you get back in touch with Jules? She didn’t mention that she’d seen you.”

“I was showing a couple of pieces at something Juleka was modelling at a while ago. We bumped into each other backstage, and when she mentioned that she and Rose were getting married I offered to make up the dresses for them. My wedding present to them,” she said with a self-conscious smile, and Luka couldn’t help a soft laugh.

“Only you would do that for someone you haven’t seen in years.”

“They’re still friends.” She rolled her eyes at him. “Like you wouldn’t do the same.”

Rose was standing on a stack of crates now, singing something about rainbows, while Juleka hooked an arm around her to keep her from overbalancing and Mylène snorted with laughter. Marinette looked over at them a little wistfully.

“It’s nice to be back in touch with the old Kitty Section crew,” she admitted. “It was nice to reconnect with Juleka… and you. I’ve missed that.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Luka said quietly. “Do you see much of the old school crowd?”

Marinette shrugged. “Not really. I run into Adrien from time to time. I see him at the fashion shows sometimes, but honestly, once we get past the awkward reminiscing about collège, and industry stuff, we don’t really have a whole lot to talk about these days. I’ve sort of lost touch with everyone else.”

“How about Alya?” he asked. Luka had never really warmed to the brash journalist-in-the-making, with all her Adrien-schemes, but she’d been best friends with Marinette back in the day.

“No.” The one word was oddly expressionless. “I haven’t see her in a few years.”

There was a heartbeat when he thought she was going to say something else, then those lashes of hers dropped. Instead, when she looked up again there was that mischievous spark in her eyes again, and she said, “So what convinced you to put on a tie? Although I notice you didn’t get rid of your blue hair.” Was that an approving note in her voice? He ran his hand a little self-consciously through the longer, teal-tipped sweep of his dark hair, rubbing at the shorter hairs at the back of his neck. “What are you doing these days?”

“Playing the occasional gig whenever I get the chance, selling my music from time to time, teaching…”

“Teaching?”

He named the lycèe.

“Lucky students.” Marinette tilted her head to regard him speculatively, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “I’m having a hard time seeing you as M. Couffaine, though.”

“Just Luka. I’m the cool teacher that half the faculty hates because I undermine authority.”

“And the other half madly crush on,” Marinette suggested, and Luka felt himself flush. She could still throw him off-balance, all these years later, although it was in a different way now. The fourteen year old Marinette he remembered would never have been able to say something like that without self-combusting, but here she was, watching him with that mischievous glint in her beautiful blue eyes, and it was just another reminder that things had changed.

“What about you?” he deflected. He gestured at the sketchbook she’d left on a nearby table with her handbag. “Following the dream?”

She gave a wry little smile. “Oh, I got through my degree in fashion design somehow, and I’ve been running a bespoke atelier out of my bedroom. It’s not huge, but it pays the bills, and at least it gives me a certain amount of … flexibility.” Luka couldn’t understand the slight twist of her mouth at the word, but she had it smoothed out before he could be sure he’d really seen it. “And Ja… a few high profile people have been very kind and sent work my way.”

Luka felt certain he knew who the celebrity had been. For that alone, he could forgive his father a lot. There was a long silence while Marinette contemplated her empty wine glass, then she met his eyes.

“You have no idea how sorry I am that I broke up with you like that, right when you were going through everything with... I just made everything worse, and it wasn’t fair on you. I never really found a way to tell you that I was sorry for everything.”

“Marinette, no!” Luka straightened in his deckchair, a faint frown crossing his face. “We were kids. I’ve always felt badly that I put you under more pressure when you were clearly having a hard time with something.”

“There was a fair bit of that going around,” she conceded, and let out a shuddering breath that he didn’t realise she’d been holding. “But you have nothing to apologise for, you had every right to be upset about how I treated you. I regret a lot of things about back then.”

“I don’t regret that we tried,” Luka said with unintentional intensity, and Marinette’s eyes widened a little. “But I do regret that I lost you out of my life altogether. You always had the most fascinating way of seeing things, and I missed just hanging out and talking to you.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me after all that. And I thought it was saf -“ she cut herself off abruptly, changing what she’d been going to say, “- better if I stayed away.”

He shook his head, but didn’t say anything in response.

She gave him a sidelong look. “I never really got the chance to ask you, did you… how did things go with Jagged in the end? Do you talk to him?”

Luka’s expression turned wry. “It’s complicated. It’s always complicated with Jagged, but we talk a bit. He’s going to be there for the wedding. Not sure how that’s going to go.”

Marinette made a sympathetic noise. He thought for a moment that she was going to ask him for the details, but instead, with another swift, perceptive glance from those blue eyes of hers, she changed the subject.

“So what’s teaching like, M. Couffaine?” she asked lightly, and he settled back to tell her some of his stories, enjoying the ripple of laughter he drew from her over his students’ antics, and the chuckles she surprised out of him with her own tales about clients and their most outrageous demands. He had no idea how late it had grown when the conversation was interrupted by a chorus of phones chiming all at once from various corners of the Liberty. Ivan was the first to reach his.

“Akuma alert,” he sighed. “Aw, man, they’ve shut down septième. Traffic getting home is going to be hell.”

“What’s the bet that it’s the Eiffel Tower again?” Juleka muttered.

Mylène was shaking her head. “Hawkmoth, and now Swallowtail, and there was that weird thing with the rats a few years ago, and the government keeps pretending that there’s nothing they can do as long as they can just dump it all on Ladybug and Chat Noir to deal with the problem. We’re still working on getting subsidies for mental health therapies, but they keep stonewalling us.”

Marinette was getting to her feet.

“I really should go,” she said reluctantly, and Luka stood as she gathered up her bag and sketchbook. “It was… really nice to catch up again, Luka. It’s been far too long.”

“Oh, but you’ll be back again soon, right?” Rose cut in before Luka could say anything. “There’ll be fittings for the wedding dresses, and we’re not letting you lose contact again like that. We’ve missed you, right, Luka?”

Luka ignored Rose’s unsubtle nudge, and Marinette said her goodbyes to the rest of their friends.

“It’s good to see you again, Marinette,” he told her, and accepted the light bise she brushed against his cheek. He caught a hint of vanilla and sugar as she leaned in, and oh hell, it suddenly hit him why the smell of cookies had always left him with a faint and peculiar sense of homesickness when his mother had never baked a cookie in her life. He closed his eyes briefly, and let Marinette go before he could do something stupid.

Luka watched her safely down to the dock, and he absolutely was not fixating on the sway of those jeans as she walked away, holy crap, and turned back to meet Rose’s hopeful and utterly transparent look.

“So-oo,” his future sister-in-law said with overdone nonchalance. “You and Marinette looked like you were having a good time together.”

“Don’t go getting ideas, Ro.”

“Rose,” Juleka muttered warningly from the bench where she was sitting, but Rose ignored her.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said innocently. “I just want you to be happy Luka. It looked like you were really happy tonight. And it was great to see Marinette again.”

“No ideas,” he repeated, and Rose gave him a look of deep disappointment. She started collecting the empty takeaway containers, while Luka rounded up the glasses. Rose dropped a kiss on Juleka’s mouth on the way past, and flitted down into the galley. Juleka heaved a put-upon sigh, and swung herself gracefully to her feet, scooping up a couple of stray cushions.

Luka picked up Marinette’s wineglass, with the soft pink imprint of her lipstick.

“You didn’t mention that Marinette would be coming round,” he said, his back to his sister. “You didn’t mention that you’d been in touch with her again.”

Juleka shrugged, and dumped the cushions in one of the storage boxes on the deck. “Didn’t think it mattered. It was ten years ago. You’re not still hung up on what happened back then, are you?”

“No, of course not.” And he was pretty sure that was true. This felt like he’d been blindsided by Marinette Dupain-Cheng in a whole new way.

[summersun4youforever]

✨ Tag 9 people to learn more about their interests!

tagged by my fav @loulovehome thank you pu hope that this quells your curiosity! 

MUSIC

fav genre? not to be that person but i think i have a toe in most genres, i suppose my favorites have got to be anything taylor swift does, pop punk, r&b pop/new age r&b, and bluegrass

fav artist? again, not to be that person but i love so many artists! let’s do this based off of genre: taylor swift, 1D, 5sos, massive focus on ZAYN, the Avett brothers, and counting crows

fav song? fav song of all time (since i was young) is going to be come around by rhett miller but more currently i’d say you are in love by taylor swift and dRuNk by ZAYN

song currently stuck in your head? i have no idea how it got there but i have stressed out by 21 pilots stuck in my head??

5 fav lyrics? ok let’s do this kids. edit: this went in a “fav love song lyrics” way so sorry in advance.

1)  I hope that I don't sound to insane when I say / There is darkness all around us / I don't feel weak but I do need sometimes for her to protect me / And reconnect me to the beauty that I'm missin' (January Wedding - The Avett Brothers)

2)  Hands around my waist / You're counting up the hills across the sheets / And I'm a falling star / A glimmer lighting up these cotton streets / I admit I'm a bit of a fool for playing by the rules / But I've found my sweet escape when I'm alone with you (Disconnected - 5sos)

3)  This is the worthwhile fight / Love is a ruthless game / Unless you play it good and right / These are the hands of fate / You're my Achilles heel / This is the golden age of something good / And right and real (State of Grace - Taylor Swift) 

4)  What if I changed my mind / What if I said it's over / I been flying so long / Can't remember what it was like to be sober / What if I lost my lives? / What if I said "Game over"? / What if I forget my lies? / And I lose all my composure (Back to Life - ZAYN)

5)   I never said I was perfect / Or you don't deserve a good person to carry your baggage / I know a few girls that can handle it / I ain't that kind of chick, but I can call 'em for you if you want / I never said that you wasn't attractive / Your style and that beard, ooh, don't get me distracted / I'm tryna be patient, and patience takes practice / The fact is I'm leaving, so just let me have this (Jerome - Lizzo)

radio or your own playlist | solo artists or bands | pop or indie | loud or silent volume I slow or fast songs | music video or lyrics video | speakers or headset | riding a bus in silence or while listening to music | driving in silence or with radio on

BOOKS

fav book genre? murder mystery and young love!

fav writer? jane austen, lisa jewell, and rick riordan (nostalgia ok?!)

fav book? the way i used to be my amber smith, rebecca by daphane du maurier, and then she was gone OR watching you (both by Lisa Jewell)

fav book series? i guess the whole percy jackson situations? i have everything RR every wrote, and i liked it all but i havent touched the older ones in ages

comfort book? not one specifically but the nancy drew books

perfect book to read on a rainy day? bird summons by leila aboulela

5 quotes from your fav book that you know by heart? i hope i can name five...

1)  “The point is, life has to be endured, and lived. But how to live it is the problem.” “I am no traveller, you are my world.” (both are My Cousin Rachel by Daphne Du Maurier)

2)  “And I’m terrified he’ll see through the tough iceberg layer, and he’ll discover not a soft, sweet girl, but an ugly fucking disaster underneath.” (The Way I Used to Be by Amber Smith)

3)  "I cannot make speeches, Emma," he soon resumed; and in a tone of such sincere, decided, intelligible tenderness as was tolerably convincing. "If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am. You hear nothing but truth from me. I have blamed you, and lectured you, and you have borne it as no other woman in England would have borne it. Bear with the truths I would tell you now, dearest Emma, as well as you have borne with them. The manner, perhaps, may have as little to recommend them. God knows, I have been a very indifferent lover. But you understand me. Yes, you see, you understand my feelings and will return them if you can. At present, I ask only to hear, once to hear your voice.” (Emma by Jane Austen) (sorry for the length, the shortened versions were not cutting it for me)

4)  “Read, read, read. That's all I can say.” (The Secret of the Old Clock by Carolyn Keene)

5)  “...amazing how boring you can get away with being when you’re pretty. No one seems to notice. When you’re pretty everyone just assumes you must have a great life. People are so short-sighted, sometimes. People are so stupid. I have a dark past and I have dark thoughts. I do dark things and I scare myself sometimes.” (Invisible Girl by Lisa Jewell)

hardcover or paperback | buy or rent | standalone novels or book series | ebook or physical copy | reading at night or during the day | reading at home or in nature | listening to music while reading or reading in silence | reading in order or reading the ending first | reliable or unreliable narrator | realism or fantasy | one or multiple POVS | judging by the covers or by the summary (im a very judgmental reader) | rereading or reading just once

TV AND MOVIES

fav tv/movie genre? i like dramedies, mockumentaries, and procedurals 

fav movie? ive got a massive list on my phone but ill pick Doob (No Bed of Roses) and 3-Iron as my favs for today

comfort movie? 2000s romcoms, im talking clueless, 13 going on 30, how to loe a guy in ten days, ten things i hate abt you, legally blonde

movie you watch every year? mamma mia and all listed in prev question

fav tv show? too many, currently im rewatching arrested development

comfort tv show? new girl

most rewatched tv show? new girl

ultimate otp? shawn and jules from psych (ultimate bc ive been watching since diapers literally)

5 fav characters? winston bishop, stiles stilinski, bellamy blake, clarke griffin, lydia martin

tv shows or movies | short seasons (8-13 episodes) or full seasons (22 episodes or more) | one episode a week or binging | one season or multiple seasons | one part or saga | half hour or one hour long episodes | subtitles on or off | rewatching or watching just once | downloads or watches online

super fun even though it took me an hour lmao, I'm tagging @technosoot @hometothecanyonmoon @sassylilnoodle @sushiniall @rosegold-thorns no pressure and sorry if youve already been tagged!

edit: i somehow managed to forget what i consider to be one of the greatest opening verses ever???? so bonus lyrics:

Step out the front door like a ghost into the fog / Where no one notices the contrast of white on white / And in between the moon and you / The angels get a better view / Of the crumbling difference between wrong and right (Round Here - Counting Crows)

[secretsofthedarkestkind-arch]

Elena starter for @storieswrittcn​ (this may or may not have gotten away from me, Remember you said you like novella. I also took part of the ramble part one but altered it also)

We are outsiders Living inside a broken world We are outsiders And I know sometimes it can hurt But it gets better yeah we'll make it through We'll stay golden when we're black and blue We are outsiders But we're not hiding anymore This is who we really are

It had been fifteen years since she’d seen either of her brothers face to face. Fifteen years since Lee had spoken to the eldest. Fifteen years since she had thought of Mystic Falls, thought of all the ghosts that lurked within the town's shadows. Lee Salvatore had made it a habit to push anything regarding her brothers, that town, or their past to the deepest recesses of her mind. She had built life after life without them, embracing the warped gift of eternity. She hadn’t truly looked back after she’d transitioned. Finally able to become who she really was without the suffocating opinions of the church, her community, or her family.

It wasn’t an easy journey. Slow in it’s progression. Lee’s aunt had always told her she was a soul gifted before it’s proper time; her sexuality, the way she was born, her passion and skill when it came to art, her desire to see the world. None of it fit in the 1800’s. But as times changed pieces of Lee started to belong. Each change brought new opportunities, allowing Lee to start to put herself together. 

She was still an outsider, still judged--but what else would you expect living in a broken world? What didn’t fit into the neat little boxes of people’s minds, what didn’t fit the societal norm, was still given so much hate. The only difference was now there were those who fought for equality, unafraid to use their voices to promote change. Those people gave Lee hope, gave her strength. Finding those people throughout the last 145 years had shaped her.

Lee Salvatore was still an outsider, but she was also so much more. She was an artist, one with more alias’ than she could count on both hands. She was a college graduate, several degrees tucked away in a safe. She was a traveler, passports filled with stamps and a mind filled with memories she had never imagined to have. But most of all, Lee was finally able to look in the mirror and accept the person she saw; the youngest Salvatore was who she truly was. She held no more self hate. No more whispers of ghosts past haunted her. She was an outsider, but she wasn’t hiding who she really was anymore.

While Lee had taken the road of self discovery, her brothers’ hadn’t. They’d been living in a siblings quarrel, at least Damon was. Stefan suffered at every turn at their brothers hand whenever they fell into each other's orbit or Damon specifically sought him out. Lee was drugged into it whenever Damon crossed too many lines, risking their exposure to the world. 

Stefan had called her no more than seven hours ago asking for her help. There was a trail of bodies leading straight to town, ‘animal attacks’ that couldn’t be explained were catching the eye of news outlets. She hadn’t even known Stefan was back in Mystic Falls. When Lee asked him why he couldn’t just leave, he explained there was something holding him in Mystic Falls that didn’t allow him to--something that could finally give him a sense of belonging--and refused to believe the attacks were Damon. All he wanted was for Lee to be there with him, help keep the spotlight off their kind. The vampire might loathe her brothers, wanting nothing more for them to be miserable, but she wasn’t going to allow Damon to out them. 

Which is why Lee was driving down the main strip on her motorcycle. The town was busy; teens scattered across the storefronts trying to enjoy their last hours of summer vacation. She came to a stop at one of the only stoplights in town, rolling her shoulders dreading whatever was to come when she reached the boarding house. The youngest Salvatore felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand, a shiver going down her spine, every nerve ending coming to life in a way she hadn’t experienced in years. Lee let her head turn to the right, following the pull of whatever was happening.

‘What…” The lithe form of a brunette teen who was walking beside another girl was at the center of her focus. “Turn around.” Lee knew the brunette couldn’t hear her words. Her plea was answered as she turned, eyes almost searching. Those eyes, that’s what did it. “Who are you?” A horn from behind her snapped Lee out of her trance, for a nanosecond the two locked eyes. The vampire’s eyes hidden behind her aviators. The next Lee was pulling off, possibly faster than she should have been. Now she had the true answer of why Stefan refused to leave. 

----

Lee placed a few notebooks, her sketchbook, and a few pens into her satchel--the one she’d had since she was a teen; a gift from her aunt she’d never been able to part with. She glanced up at the ceiling hearing Stefan’s footsteps on the roof. A sigh left her lips, why had she agreed to this? She was roughly 160 years old and able to enroll herself in a Small Town America High School. It was ridiculous; a complete stalker move. There had to be other ways for Stefan to get to know this girl, if that’s even what he was truly hoping to do. For how Stef had explained the situation, Lee could tell he was only doing this because of Katherine.

Subconsciously her thumb started to play with the band of her daylight ring. She was thankful for the chance of life Katherine Pierce had given her but there was so much Lee wished was different. Shaking her head to break out of her thoughts she moved toward her closet to get dressed. Lee scanned through her options, To be me or be who society thinks I should be? It was a debate she hadn’t had in a long time. To make this work she couldn’t disturb the waters between her and her brothers too much. A short laugh left her lips, that was a joke. The three couldn’t be in the same room without starting something. As it was right now, it was just two of them. With that thought in mind Lee grabbed an outfit that would be her. 

Guys white wash skinny jeans that weren’t too tight to show her tuck, a grey and white hooded baseball tee that had a pocket on the left chest, her grey vans, and her black leather jacket she’s had since the 90’s. She finished the look with a black watch. One more look in the mirror and she was pocketing her phone with one hand and slipped her satchel over her shoulder with the other.

She knew Stefan would already be off. His stalker-like tendencies being on overdrive since the ‘animal attack’ last night after Lee had arrived. She ignored Zack who was in his office and headed to the garage, she wasn’t going to run to the school. There wasn’t anything wrong with arriving in style.

-------

Stefan met her in the parking lot. Lee took her helmet off and ran her fingers through her hair, glancing at her brother, her own sunglasses covering her eyes. “Why do you always insist on dressing like that?” He asked, judgement clear in his voice. 

“This is me Stefan. You know that. Let it go. You asked for my help so take me as I am or I get on this bike and leave.” She told him. Lee wasn’t going to put up with his judgement. The world had given her enough of that. Plus her brother had already had his fair share of giving her judgement when they were younger. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” Lee stated, “This is definitely traveling into creeper status.” Stefan didn’t answer, just turned to walk through the crowd of students covering the lawn reconnecting after a summer away. She moved into step beside him, she knew they stood out; leather jackets, both well built and confident in their strides, the aurora of not giving a fuck rolling off them both. 

They finally found their way to the admissions office, standing shoulder to shoulder. Stefan handed over the file that was supposed to hold all they needed but Lee knew was missing more than a few things. She wondered which of the two would compel the woman. Stefan could but where all he drank was Bambi and Co blood who knew how long it would last. Lee sighs, she’s ready to make the move when something behind them stops her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, her nerves firing up again, and she felt that pull to turn around. She also could feel a warm buzz in the air, a witch.

“Hold up. Who’s this?” The first female says, the witch.

The secretary’s voice brings her back to what’s in front of her, saying exactly what she knew was coming. “Your records are incomplete. You’re both missing immunization records and we do insist on transcripts.” Lee glances at Stefan out of the corner of her eye. The last transcripts she had were college one's back in the 1980’s. She hadn’t done high school since the late 70’s and that was only to get into Yale. Their art programs the top in the country. 

Thoughts of the past make her miss her chance, Stefan is taking his sunglasses off, “Please look again,” Lee adjusts her satchel hoping Stefan can do this right. “I’m sure everything you need for both of us is there.” Lee chews the inside of her lower lip, her free hand moving to remove her sunglasses just in case. 

The secretary looks back down, “Well you’re right.” Lee tucks her sunglasses into the collar of her shirt as the woman looks back up at her brother. “So it is.” Stefan-1, Humanity-0.

“Thank you,” Stefan, ever the polite one, says. As they turn to go, Lee glances over at her brother’s schedule. Seems they have all but one class together--Lee has art and Stefan a creative writing course. That works.

“You’re welcome,’ The secretary says, her eyes landing on the two teens in the hall. “Ahh! Miss Bennett, Miss Gilbert I’m glad you’re here. Do you think you could show our two newest students around?” She stands up from behind her desk to walk around to the siblings. “This is Lee and Stefan Salvatore. I think they both have a few classes with you both.” Lee takes in who she now know as a Bennett witch, why the magic felt warm. She gives the teen a charming smile before the pull is to much, her head being forced to turn to the brunette beside her. The vampire takes her in, all she can see is someone new. Lee doesn’t see Katherine when she looks at her. “Hi,” The charming smile turning into a much softer one. “I’m Lee.” She offers her hand to the girl.

[tractorbeamofwoe]

A/N: got a request on tumblr to write a hurt/comfort Van fic (although this is more hurt and angst than comfort) and I decided to base it on Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo. Enjoy :)

Word Count: 1277

***

The problems started when Van was spending less and less time with me. Whenever I called him out on it he'd always shrug it off with "she's just a friend" "we're just friends" but it was clear to me that he cared for her much more than a friend.

Sometimes it felt like I was just the friend. The friend who he lived with and shared a bed with. The friend who got up and made him coffee in the mornings and the friend who would pick him up from tour.

"Who are you texting?" I'd ask

And it would always be "Oh just a friend."

And then I'd always point out "But you never text Bondy or Larry that much, they're your friends aren't they?"

And again he'd dismiss it "Yeah, course, she's just talkative that's all."

Then when I'd tell him to pause things, wrap up the conversation to watch TV with me and eat the dinner I'd cooked for him that was already going cold, he'd always sigh and reluctantly shove his phone in his back pocket only to have it back out again two minutes later.

It was infuriating.

So when it came to ending things, I had to take charge and confront him. It was kind of ironic really, because for the last few months things had been awful and we'd be arguing constantly and only when I wanted to break up with him did things start getting better. In a way it was also planned, because I wanted it to be unexpected. I wanted it to hurt him as much as it hurt me to sit there and watch him slowly fall for this other girl while not being able to do a single thing about it.

He'd put in the effort to take me out for dinner, but drove us home early because he didn't like my attitude. Well, I didn't like him texting his "friend" about where we were and what we were doing, but we can't always get our way.

That was when I told him it was over and he was livid. We had possibly the worst screaming match we'd ever had but it was refreshing and I'd needed to get everything off my chest for a long time.

"Goodbye Y/N." He huffed, packing his bags and slamming the front door. I know I shouldn't have, but I began smiling as a wave of relief just washed over me. Like some weight had been lifted from my shoulders. It wasn't meant to be, and while it hurt, it would heal and I'd move on. Right?

The bedroom window was open and I could hear Van on the phone outside, grumbling about needing to be picked up because he'd just been dumped as he scuffed his boots on the tarmac pavement feeling sorry for himself.

"Good riddance." I called, though not directly to him, as a car pulled up and Van got in, greeting the pretty blonde girl in the driver's seat.

For the first time in a while I had a deep sleep, no tossing and turning as I tried to switch off and stop worrying about what tomorrow might bring. Now the main problem was resolved, I finally had the chance to start working on myself. I was going out more and reconnecting with old friends, I was more productive at work and I was cooking different meals for myself every night.

But trouble shortly followed just a fortnight later as I was doing a nightly scroll through my socials before bed in the summer heat, about to brush my teeth and turn out the light when a post caught my eye.

"Van McCann spotted with new girl" was the sentence that stood out to me and I couldn't help but laugh to myself. I considered liking or reposting it, knowing it would become some sort of gossip amongst fans, who had no idea we'd even broken up.

As far as anyone else knew, it was just a polite acknowledgement of the fact that we'd both moved on, but Van didn't see it that way and he started blowing up my phone 20 minutes later with angry texts and missed calls.

Van

"What the fuck"

"Pick up"

"Pick up right now"

"Y/N answer the phone"

"For fucks sake"

There was no avoiding it, and no point riling him up either. I had no choice but to pick up when he called again, his words fuelled with so much hatred I could practically hear the spit flying from his lips as he hissed down the phone.

"You know I'm not calling to make amends so don't try and play innocent cause I've got some fucking words to say to you, alright?" He sounded like he'd had a couple of drinks, the end of his sentence slurred a little. He never loses his cool under stress, which made me a little worried, but he wasn't mine to worry about anymore and right now he couldn't care less how I was doing.

"Why the fuck would you go stirring up rumours and shit with the fans? We're done, we're over now and I'm happy in my relationship. Block my fucking number I don't want anything to do with you, you clearly just want attention."

His words stung, but I wasn't going down without a fight. "Why don't you just block me?" I retorted, raising my voice and waiting for it to echo through before Van argued back.

"Well I don't know Y/N, you tell me. If I block you you might spin it into another one of your stories to make me look bad." He spat, petty as ever and I really didn't see the point in arguing with him when he wasn't even thinking straight. But I guess there was still some bad blood between us that needed to be addressed.

"If you didn't wanna look bad, maybe you should've thought about what you were doing before you started flirting with your new woman in the middle of our relationship!" I screeched, rolling over and getting out of bed to open the window. My room was still too hot and it was getting on my nerves.

"What, you're saying I'm some sort of cheater? You're the one who broke up with me over a fucking text message with a friend!"

"Well I wouldn't know if you'd slept with her or not, you never fucking told me anything! I think I was right to end things considering how quickly you ran to her afterwards!" I didn't go back to bed then, I wasn't relaxed enough to sleep anymore, instead I slumped down in the chair beside the window and left the phone on speaker on the other side of the room as Van continued to rant and rave.

"Well I don't even feel bad and I would never take you back even if I did!" Was the last sentence he came out with before I couldn't take any more. I darted from my seat and snatched my phone back from where it was laying on the mattress.

"Fuck you Van!" I yelled before hanging up and blocking his number. I huffed as I turned out the light, angrily throwing myself onto the bed and scrunching my eyes shut in an attempt to speed up the process of falling asleep.

That was the last I ever heard from him and sometimes I found myself wondering if things might have been different.

Perhaps if he'd used his head and I'd listened to my heart we could have made a change, worked things out.

Or perhaps we were doomed from the start...

[browniefox]

Color Theory

@wrightfamilyweek Day 2 - Investigation/Hijinks

In which an anniversary is coming up, so Trucy makes some plans.

You can also find this on AO3 right here :)

“Have fun at work, Daddy!”

Trucy runs up to Daddy and hugs him around the stomach. He kisses the top of his head.

“Mmhm, I expect your homework to be done and you to be in bed by the time I get home, alright? No exceptions!"

“Of course!”

“And no trips to Germany, alright? I’m sure you can hold off for another few months.” Daddy teases. Trucy sticks his tongue out at him and he ruffles her hair before going out the door. In a few months, she is going to actually get to go with Daddy on one of his trips to see Miles, a reconnection between the two of them since Trucy's own little trip a year ago.

As the door closes, Trucy runs over to the window and waits until she sees Daddy riding down the street on his bike, officially out of the building. Her homework is already done, most of it finished during class time and the rest of it finished up during recess and on her way home from school. Walking while writing had made her numbers come out a little odd, but it didn’t matter, because now she had hours and hours of time to work.

She stops by the fridge, staring up at the calendar. It’s four weeks away from the date circled in red, and two weeks from the date that sits ominously empty. It’s plenty of time, though.

Trucy makes a lap around the office, double-checking that the windows are locked just like Daddy does every time before leaving. Everything seems safe and sound, so she grabs her backpack and leaves, making sure she has the spare key and locking the door behind her. Daddy won’t be home until late, but she’s still going to make care to be home with plenty of time to spare. The meer idea of putting him through the same fear of last year sits in her chest like a promise.

It’s a few bus-stops to get to Gummy and Maggey’s house. They’re both out at the moment, so Trucy finds the spare key in the fake rock and lets herself in. She’s spent a lot of time over here by now, and the couple has spent alot of time over at the office, the big and towering man she’d met at the airport transforming into a familiar and lovable family friend.

She skips over to the closet, pulling out the supplies stuck in there. Streamers and confetti, magic wands and fake flowers, tumbling out from where Gummy had helped her shove them in last time. She looks down at the supplies and begins organizing it into the different acts that they’re associated with. There’s a lot of pieces, a lot to get over to the Wonder Bar eventually. Keeping so much of it over here makes it harder to practice back at home, but that’s kind of the point, even if it’s really annoying.

Gummy and Maggie came home after an hour, setting their things down and chatting about their day while Gummy starts dinner. The smell fills the house, warm and comforting. Trucy likes the Gumshoe house. It’s not too big, but not too small either. Gummy and Maggey used to clean it up before she came over, but they’ve stopped making that special little change for her, and so she gets to see it all lived in, a sock strewn here, a few dishes left out, pillows lying wherever they were last placed. Small things that make the place not a house but a home. She’s never had a home like this one, and oh there are sometimes where she’ll be lying on the couch and imagine what it would be like to stay here.

She knows she could.

Daddy has made it clear that if she ever felt dissatisfied with the cramped office, with him, all she has to do was say something. Gummy and Maggey have mentioned, before, that they’d be willing to take her in if anything ever happened to Daddy. Gummy had laughed about all the sorts of injuries Daddy tended to accrue, recounting a story about Daddy getting amnesia before a case - Trucy knew that one, she’d read it a bit ago.

Trucy doesn’t want to leave the cramped little office.

After dinner, Trucy uses Gummy’s phone. Gummy and Maggey know how to set up her stuff for a performance by now - they’ve already agreed to be her stage crew for the performance. While they’re doing that, Trucy calls up Aunty Maya.

“How’s my favorite magician doing?” Maya answers, and Trucy can hear the smile in her voice.

“Working on her next trick.” Trucy replies. Maya makes a humming sound.

“Well, things are going well on our end over here. Are you sure about the color? You don’t want to go darker?” Maya asked.

“Nope! It’s, well, there’s a reason for the shade.” Trucy says. She can hear Maya hum in understanding over the receiver.

“Well, I’m almost finished with it, although I’ll probably come up soon just to make sure everything is right. Pearly says hi, by the way.”

“Oh! Is she there?! Is she there?! Hi Pearls!” Trucy shouts over the phone and gets a distant and soft ‘hi Trucy!’.

“When I come down I’ll bring Pearly with me, don’t worry. If I didn’t,she might just run the whole way over there anyway!” Maya laughs and Trucy laughs along.

“If everything’s working out, then I’m gonna have to go. I need to make sure the rest of the show is ready to go!” Trucy says.

“Alright, alright, just say you’re afraid I’m going to start prattling on about the new season of Rubber Samurai. But you know there-”

“Love you Aunty Maya bye!” Trucy hits the end call button still chuckling to herself. She hopes that Aunty Maya makes true on her promise to come back down and to bring Pearls before the big day, but if she doesn’t then Trucy guesses she can wait that long, even if it’ll be agonizing.

She stares at the next number for a long long while before finally hitting the call button.

The phone rings once, twice, three times before he picks up.

“Gumshoe, this had better be fucking import-”

“Hi, Miles!” Trucy chirps. There’s silence on the other end.

“... who is this?” Miles grumbles.

“Trucy Wright!”

“Trucy?!” Miles sounds a little more awake now.

“Yup!”

“Ms. Trucy… why are you calling me at… three in the morning?” Miles groans.

“Th… three in the… OH!” Trucy gasps, feeling her face flush in embarrassment. She’d completely forgotten to take into account time differences. “Oh my god, Miles, I’m so sorry, it’s pretty late here and-”

“It’s, it’s fine Ms. Trucy. Just tell me what you were calling about… from Gumshoe’s phone? Is your father alright?” Worry creeps into Miles voice.

“Oh, yes, Daddy’s fine! Daddy’s just at work right now, and I went over to Gummy and Maggey’s! We had spaghetti and meatballs for dinner, and then we’re gonna play a card game, and then Gummy is gonna drive me back to the office ‘cause it’s all dark now!” Trucy says.

“Ms. Trucy, I don’t mean to sound rude, but again, it is three a.m. here…” Miles sighs.

“Right! Right, um… Mr. Edgeworth, do you think you could help me with a little something.”

“I’m going to need a bit more information than that.”

Trucy rattles off her little plan into the phone. Miles stays silent for the entire explanation, only grunting here and there to assure her that he is still awake and listening on the other end.

“... this is very short notice.” Miles says.

“Oh,” Says Trucy, looking down at her feet, “Well, that’s okay, I’m sure together, the rest of us-”

“I never said I wouldn’t do it, just that next time you’re planning something like This, please, tell me about it a little more ahead of time.”

“Okay! Yeah! Next time! And this time… you can do it?” She double checks.

“Yes, you can count on me, Ms. Trucy.”

“Thank you! Um, I’ll let you get back to sleep, thank you!”

Trucy skips back into the kitchen, where Gummy and Maggey have set up a board game. She still has her show to practice a bit more, and even now thinking about it she’s a little nervous, but she’s found she’s more excited. It’s coming together.

oOo

“Please, Daddy, please, come and see my show tonight? Pleaseeeee?”

Phoenix lets out a long sigh. Trucy is bouncing around in excitement in front of him. She’s already done her stage makeup, and he’d helped her put little weaving braids into her hair. Most of it will be covered up by her hat, but there are usually moments during the performance where the hat comes off, and so she needs to look amazing no matter what’s going on. Phoenix is fine to help her with this, but on today of all days, all he wants to do is sit in his office, read through old case files, and mourn what he has lost.

He was disbarred two years ago. That both feels like too much and not enough time. For the most part, he likes to think that he’s been coping with it well. He’s been working, and raising Trucy, and he’s had some other little things in the works, but on today of all days, it’s so hard to focus and not feel the ache of what was taken from him, of what he’s lost, of those who have come to his door in the past couple years looking for help and having to be turned away.

“Trucy, baby,” Phoenix starts, trying to let her down easy, but Trucy stomps her foot.

“No, Daddy, please, just, just come? To the show? Please?” She begs.

She’s been 'off' all week, too quiet and then too talkative in bursts that serve to confuse Phoenix. Now, there’s something almost akin to fear in her eyes, and it tugs at Phoenix’s heartstrings.

“Alright, sweetie, let me just,” He looks down at himself, still in sweatpants and a hoodie. He’d meant to get dressed today, but even now he’s struggling to find the energy to get into something better, and eventually he just says lamely, “Put some shoes on.”

He gets a pair of beat-up sneakers on and walks outside with Trucy, who is still vibrating with energy. He considers for a moment that perhaps he should buy a new pair of shoes, but then he sees Trucy’s cape, starting to look thread-bare in places and sitting so much shorter on her than it did two years ago. It used to fall to cover her almost completely in a mysterious sort of way, but now you can see her entire hands. Trucy has told him before it’d be fine, her cape had been too long anyway, but maybe he should start to consider how to get her something new and nice. Things for himself could be put off as long as they needed to be.

The ride down to the Wonder Bar is quiet between them, Trucy sitting on his handlebars with careful balance. The first five times they did it, Phoenix had been worried about her falling off or something, but now it was routine if they had anywhere they both had to be and didn’t have the time to puzzle through bus schedules or the budget for a taxi.

Phoenix recognizes some of the people in the Wonder Bar, and Mr. Wunderbar himself comes over and greets.

“Ah, Ms. Wright, so glad to see you! Your assistants are already backstage.” Mr. Wunderbar says. Phoenix’s brow furrows.

“Assistants? You mean the your staff?” Phoenix asks.

“Alright thanks Mr. Wunderbar Daddy find a seat love you bye!” Trucy says in one breath and runs over to the stage.

“This way, Mr. Wright. Trucy asked that we have a table upfront reserved just for you.” Mr. Wunderbar leads the way to one of the tables close to the stage, which does indeed have a a ‘Reserved’ marker on it. Phoenix feels suddenly self conscious in his outfit. He’d been planning to sit in the back, where nobody could see him, and he feels like everybody in the bar, waiting for Trucy to perform, are staring at him.

Mr. Wunderbar took his order and then slipped away. Phoenix drumms his fingers on the table, a cowardice sweeping through him with such force that he almost gets up and walks away. Something odd is going on, and it's making him even more nervous.

“Oh good, Trucy was really worried you wouldn’t show up.”

Phoenix jumps at the familiar voice, and spins around to see Maya and Pearls.

“Wh- hey, what are you two doing here?!” Phoenix jumps up and hugs both of them, “And especially what’s Pearls doing in here?”

“Mr. Wunderbar says that so long as nobody at our table orders drinks, he’ll allow it this once.” Maya says, sitting down, and Pearls sits on the other side of Phoenix, sandwiching him between the Fey’s.

“But why are you two-”

“Now Nick, do you really think we’d let you spend today on your own to mope?” Maya sets her hands on her hips. Phoenix looks away. He doesn’t point out that they didn’t last year, because it’s not their responsibility to look after him. Maya has her own life she’s living. She had texted and called him, though, regularly, throughout the day, at random intervals. She threatened that if he didn’t pick up any of the times, she’d be coming over right way, “I’ll admit, though, clearly we came mostly to see Trucy perform. Right Pearls?”

“Yeah! She’s so amazing, Mr. Nick! And we also had to bring the-” Pearls starts to say, but Maya puts a finger to her lips and shushes Pearls, who’s mouth slams shut.

“... alright, enough of this, what’s going on?” Phoenix asks more plainly.

“So she still hasn’t seen fit to tell you yet?”

And then, slipping into the fourth seat at the table, is Miles. Miles, in California, in the flesh, in the Wonderbar.

“M-Miles! What are you doing here?”

“Your daughter had a simple request, and I obliged.” Miles sniffs, “You look,” Miles regards Phoenix and Phoenix looks away, wishing he’d brought something to cover his head as well, “Alright, all things considered.” He ends.

“No need to sugar coat it, Miles.” Phoenix laughs bitterly.

“I’m not. You seem to forget you’re not the only one who has gone through some trying times.”

Before Phoenix can formulate anything to say to that, the lights in the bar dim. The curtain lifts, but there’s a sheet behind it, so that all once can see of Trucy is her silhouette.

“Now introducing… Trucy Gramraye!” The announcer booms, and there’s some applause, even though nothing’s happened yet, Trucy still not seen.

“There are times that we, in life, come to a crossroads,” Trucy’s voice booms through the speakers over a mystical sounding soundtrack, “ Where we our lives take sudden changes.”

Oh, Phoenix thinks, heart plummeting to the bottom of his stomach, a theory forming in his mind, She wanted me here for her Last Show. Did something happen that made her want to stop being a magician? He’s tried to be supportive, even though he’s had some trouble keeping track of the supplies she needs, and how to help her out, with her teaching him far more than he can possibly teach her about this stuff. He’s offered to get in touch with Max Galactica, but Trucy had made it plain her opinion of that magician.

“Sometimes, you need to say things. And sometimes actions - and appreances - speak louder than words.”

Phoenix almost wants to stand up, to shout at her that no, he doesn’t want her to give up her magic just because she thinks it’s going to make him happy, but he’s frozen in his seat as the sheet of paper hiding his daughter from view is torn through and fog comes rolling out… but she’s not there.

In a puff of smoke, Trucy appears on top of his table. She winks down at him, the spot light finding her.

Her red hat and cape and bag are all gone, replaced by pale blue versions. New, lovingly crafted, and Trucy puts her hands above her head in a pose.

“I am Trucy Gramarye, but your little witch in red is now a magician in blue. Sorry if I startled anybody by coming… out of the blue like that?” Trucy says. She smiles, twirls around, and in another puff of smoke she’s gone. The room goes dark.

The spotlight finds her back on the stage, still in the strange blue uniform.

“Wh-what- when did she-”

“You know, in Kurain, we have to make all our own clothes.” Maya says with a mischievous little smirk.

“You mean you-”

“She wanted to put together something to make sure you weren’t too sad today.” Maya explains, smiling.

Phoenix does his best not to cry so that he doesn’t miss any bit of the show.

When it’s done, Mr. Wunderbar brings over another chair and Trucy sits with them. Phoenix spends the evening surrounded by his friends, by his family, and staring at Trucy’s new outfit. Blue, just like his old suit, he thinks.

“Do you like it?” She asks, surprisingly shyly, right before bed. Phoenix grins, picks her up, and twirls her around.

“You look amazing sweetie. You know, you didn’t have to go through all that just for me.”

“I didn’t do it just for you.” Trucy defends, “I did it because I wanted to! And because I love you!”

“I love you too Truce.”

Tomorrow morning, reality will set in again. He’ll have work, and maybe all the grief he was able to put off today will make a forceful comeback, but tonight he knows he’s loved, and that Trucy wants to be a part of his world, wants to be a part of his broken little family, and maybe that’s all that really matters in the end.

[bts-hyperfixation]

Forget me not

It had been a long-awaited night out. Relaxing with your friends after finals sounded like a great plan, letting off steam before heading home for the summer. So why did it feel like someone was repeatedly punching you in the stomach. Of course, you knew that answer, even if you were loath to admit it. Park fucking Jimin.

You’d met the idol when you were a lowly college freshman, you’d been smitten with him then and as time went on and you’d gotten closer the infatuation had only gotten worse. Most of the time you managed to supress your crush, until you had the slightest bit of alcohol in you. And therein lies tonight’s problem. You knew it was a bad idea when he invited himself out to your celebratory drinks, but he has you wrapped around his little finger. Normally you came up with an excuse not to drink around him, finding just as much fun in his company anyway. Unfortunately, tonight there was no way out of it.

You watched from the bar as he dazzled the room. His eyes glittering in the disco lights as his hips swayed to the beat. One girl in particular had been the target of most of his attention for the night. The minute he finished two drinks he wandered off into the throngs of other drunk people without so much of a goodbye. She keeps touching him: a hand on his waist, a playfully hip check, an ‘accidental’ grind. It was vomit inducing to see her try. Even worse was the grin on Jimin’s face, indicating his mutual interest. You only had one option to make it through the rest of tonight, shots!

You lost count after six. The world was spinning far too much to be bothered with keeping track. Most of your friends had dispersed into the crowd… or maybe you’d just gotten lost on the way to the bathroom. It’s hard to tell as the whole night blurs into one. You stumble around for a little while, trying to catch your bearings, until you tumble into a very familiar feeling pair of arms.

“Easy Y/N. You okay?” You look up to find the beautiful source of your pain looking down at you concerned. Suddenly the urge to vomit is back. Luckily you manage to keep the bile in your throat, breathing deeply before trying to force what you hope is an easy smile.

“I’mmm gooodd” you slur in the least convincing way possible. He chuckles a little at your attempt and wraps an arm around you, supporting most of your weight. The two of you make your way to a taxi rank and he clambers in next to you. You lie your head on his shoulder and wait for the world to stop spinning behind your closed eyes, but it never does. The taxi doesn’t take long to arrive at your house.

“Do you need me to stay with you?” it’s not uncommon for you to have sleepovers, but usually its after long movie nights or dinners. The thought of him seeing you hungover was too much for you even in your current state of inebriation.

“No, I’ll be okay, pwomise” your words still aren’t particularly convincing but Jimin concedes. Instead settling for walking you to the door and making sure you get inside.

“Goodnight Y/N” He kisses your cheek and moves to walk back to the waiting taxi.

“Jimin?” you call after him. He turns back, expecting you to say goodnight. “What did you see in her?” your eyes have welled up with tears, but he just shrugs and sighs before getting into the taxi. You stare down the street long after the car has disappeared from view.

By the time morning comes, your head is pounding. Everything after the third shot is a complete blur. No event following stands out as its own incident. You swallow some paracetamol and check your phone, hoping to find some indication of who you might’ve upset in your drunken state. You breathe a sigh of relief when you find no angry texts or awkward photos. Going about your day it never occurs to you to text Jimin.

A few days pass and you haven’t heard from him. Sometimes it could get like this. If he was busy with shoots or interviews, but you left for home soon and he hadn’t even thought to contact you once. You had sent a couple, just checking in but got no response. Eventually you decided it’d be best to turn up at the dorm.

He opens the door to you in sweats and a tank. Messy haired and bleary eyed, he looked like he was in the middle of a day off… but if that wasn’t the case why hadn’t he messaged back.

“Hey.” Its stilted and awkward as he shuffles back to let you through the door.

“Is everything okay? It feels like your avoiding me.” He refuses to meet your eyes while you confront him, its then you see the dark circles under his usually bright eyes. You reach your hand up to cup his face, but he flinches like it burnt him.

“Why did you ask me that?”

“Ask you what? If your okay? Because I care…”

“Not that.” He spits suddenly angry. “Why did you ask me what I saw in the girl I was flirting with the other night? Why did you ask me like you cared?” your mouth flops open a little, confused by the sudden bout of anger.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Jimin! I don’t remember anything about that night!” your voice rises to match his, angry that he was angry.

“You always do this! Pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about every time you lead me on and I’m so sick of it!”

“I don’t know what you mean, I don’t lead you on!”

“You do! You make me think you might like me the same way I like you and then you ‘conveniently forget’ the next day.” He’s breathing heavy as he waits for you to process the new information, getting more and more agitated as he you fail to catch onto what he means. “Oh, for fuck’s sake” his lips attach to yours, pushing you back against the door as his hands cage you in. your mouth opens in a gasp and he slides his tongue in, exploring every inch as you begin to react. Relaxing your muscles and kissing him back. Your arms snake around his neck, grabbing at the hair at the nape, anything to bring him closer to you. His own hands travel down, lifting you by the thighs and into his arms. For such a lithe figure, he is definitely strong. Before you know it you’re being thrown onto his bed, scrambling for purchase as he climbs over you and reconnects your lips.

“Slow… down…” you pant in between kisses. He stops immediately and sits back, dejected. You panic when you realise what it sounds like. “No wait Jimin, I want to do this… I just think we should talk about what this means to both of us.” He nods slowly and helps you up into a sitting position. “I think I’m in love with you.” You hold your breath as his eyes search yours. You will yourself not to cry at the possibility of rejection, knowing you were risking it all with such a confession when all he felt could be lust. It feels like an eternity before he responds, kissing you again. This one much more chaste, creating butterfly in your stomach as you melt into him.

“I think I’m in love with you to.” His deep brown eyes sparkle with the revelation and you can’t help the wandering hand that goes up to play with is hair, tugging gently to force his lips back on your own. You keep your leverage as you kiss, directing his head where you want it. His hands trail down your sides to your waist, he fumbles with the button on your jeans. His fingers find their way into your panties. His middle finger drags along you wet slit before delving straight in. Unprepared, your grip on his hair tightens and he moans into your mouth. Nothing has ever sounded sexier to you. You tug again, eager to elicit the same sound. This time the moan is deeper as you pull harder and he forces two more fingers into your dripping hole.

No longer content with the amount of clothing still separating you, you release his hair, only to gain a whimper in return. His eyes meet yours, needy and sad, until you reach between the two of you to lift your hem. He removes his hand from your underwear before shedding his own clothes. When your finally naked he takes the opportunity to kiss every inch of you, worshipping you and making you shiver. Its not long until your begging for him. Desperate and whiny after years of build up to this one moment. Clearly, he feels the same way as he lines himself up with your entrance. He lets out a long whimper as he slides to the hilt, barely giving you time to adjust to the intrusion before pistoning his hips. Your hand sneaks to play with your clit as pressure builds inside your stomach. Nearly screaming by the time you come, the pleasure rolls through you in aftershocks with this unrelenting pace. Only when tears fall from your eyes does he stutter. Groaning as his own orgasm hits you.

“Tell me again” he whispers as he rolls next to you on the bed.

“Tell you what? This time your fairly certain you know what he wants but are set on teasing him. He meets your eyes with his sad expression and your resolves breaks immediately. You reach a hand into his hair and pull softly as you whisper back “I love you Park Jimin.”

Masterlist

Prompts WIP

[generallybarzy]

smile like sunshine vi

Thursday: ~ 9.2k words

previous chapters: i // ii // iii // iv // v

an: writing this was tough on me. I’ve obviously been through a lot of ups and downs while trying to write this, considering it took like 4 months to finish. Continuously losing inspiration and motivation and hitting writer’s block too many times was tough. The chapters keep getting longer and I feel like there are less and less notes everytime. It hurts to see my favorite fic do so poorly, so I've been hesitating to post this. But it’s finally here, and there are only 2 chapters left. Now, let’s see how few notes this gets. Thank you to my beautiful amazing editor/bestie @folkloreflyers I couldn't have done this without you bb 🥰💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

tagging some beautiful people: @sunflowertimothee @deleausvp @dunnwithlyfe @smit41 @softboybarzal @fallinallincurls @matbaerzal @brokeninsidebutnobodyknows @hockeyhughes11 @folkloreflyers @nazdaddy @shawnsreputation

summary: after everything that happened last night, Mat and Y/N realize they probably need some time apart to regroup with their thoughts and emotions and prevent themselves from pushing the boundaries of their friendship so far that they’d never return to normal. It’s 2019, eleven years after you first befriended him, and things are definitely different this time around...

If there was ever a time when you wanted to slip away into the memory of what you once had with Mathew: an amazing friendship, not overshadowed or blurred by stupid hormones and growing feelings, it was now.

It was almost tragic to think about how you’d lost all that time and could never go back to the days when you were completely carefree and nothing could bring you down. Those hot, summer days with Mat when watermelon juice and sticky, sugary ice pops dripped down your hands, and your faces were burnt in the sun were long gone. You’d never be like that again. No matter how often you dreamt of it, thought of it, and buried yourself in memories of that summer to block out the worries of adult life, you couldn’t get it back.

The sun was going down on your second to last night at the beach, as you sat by Mat in the sand, giggling as the water lapped at your toes and digging up handfuls of the tiny coquina clams burrowing in the sand- not that you knew what they were called, but did it matter? Your parents sat further back onshore, talking around a fire and watching the younger children, and you and Mat, like always, were left to entertain yourselves. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. No, you loved spending time with him.

You didn’t realize that your time with Mat was coming to an end. You weren’t sure what day of the week it was, where you were, or when you were leaving, but that didn’t matter. Not then.

“Are you having fun with Mat?” Your mom had asked you earlier in the day.

“Yeah, he’s my best friend!”

“Well,” Your mom laughed. “Why don’t you go have some more fun with him. Cherish your time, we won't be here forever.”

You didn't quite understand the weight of her words, but cherish him, you did. The two of you were attached at the hip, to both your parent's amusement, and after only a week of friendship now, your parents could hardly separate you two. 

“Ugh, younger siblings are so annoying." You groaned in agreement to Mat's statement and fell back in the sand when you looked back and saw your baby siblings sucking up all your parents’ attention.

"Yeah, 'cause they're smaller and cuter than us." 

"No, that's not true!” Mat shook his head, dark hair flopping around in the breeze, hazel eyes wide. “You're still pretty cute." 

"Ewwww, Mat!" 

"So am I, my nonna told me!" You laughed at him. Only a week into knowing each other and he could already make you laugh better than any of your friends at school. "So that's not it."

"Well, they always have all the attention. I'm so bored and lonely sometimes." 

"Nuh-uh, you have me. I'm always here to hang out!" He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, his small, sand-covered arms, and neither of you noticed both of your parents watching from the campfire. As wise as they were, they knew that if you had been a few years older, this would’ve been too much for them to handle. And little did you and Mat know, at only ten and eleven years old, but you were about to be separated for eleven years. 

“Friends forever?”

“Forever! I’ll always be here!”

“Promise?” You stuck out your pinky, and Mat linked it happily with his own, smiling that gleaming smile. 

“Promise.”

You had fucked up something amazing.

You woke up early with a pounding headache right as the sun began to beam in through your window, hitting your face in the worst possible way. You’d never so hated the sound of the ocean, but right now, it was just… too much. Too loud. For the first time since you had arrived at the beach, you didn’t wake up smiling and excited to be here, but instead dizzy and confused, questioning what had happened last night, and filled with dread at the thought of having to face the day. And, when you realized what you’d done in your drunken stupor, regret immediately began gnawing away at your mind. 

You had fucked up bad.

You buried your face under your pillows to try and drown out the pounding noises in your ears as the image of yourself flooded to your brain, absolutely wasted and stumbling, pushing your body into his, pushing your mouth onto Mat’s and kissing him. It was drunken, messy, and definitely not the way you'd imagined many, many times, your first kiss with him to be. It wasn't magical and beautiful and gentle and sweet, but drunk and sloppy and one-sided. Unreciprocated. You couldn't stop thinking about his reaction. He hadn’t kissed you back, his hands didn’t cup your face gently and pull you flush against his warm body the way you imagined, but instead pushed you away and held you between his arms and looked at you. He hadn’t even smiled or laughed and brushed it off afterward. He must have been disgusted with your actions, he must have wanted to yell at you, ask “What are you doing?” but understood that you were drunk and settled for pushing you away. He'd confront you today, tell you that he couldn't look at you the same way after what happened, tell you that he no longer wanted to be friends. That when you’d get back to New York, you would never speak to each other again.

Fuck.

“(YN)!” The pounding on your door made you cringe and groan. Well, it might not have been pounding, but it certainly sounded like it, as your head throbbed in agitation. “Wake up honey!”

You groaned and rolled over in bed.

She cracked the door open as quietly as possible, showing a little bit of sympathy, which you were thankful for. “Hungover?” Your groan was enough of a response for her. “You’re not gonna get better lying in here, come out.” When you still didn’t answer, she continued. “I’ll be louder next time I have to come in to get you.” And then she left you to drag yourself out of your lethargic state.

Well, fuck, you thought as you cast a glance out the window where the sun was rising over the ocean, might as well get up and face the day, no point in hiding. You needed to get some fresh air, maybe some alone time on the beach before Mat gets up. You needed to talk to someone about what happened, you couldn’t keep this to yourself, but who would you tell? Not your mom, no one in your family actually. Sure, you were close, but you weren’t gonna tell them about your drunken mistake- how you kissed your best friend. Best friend. Your best friend- all the way back in New York City, who always helped get you out there, was the reason you ever reconnected with Mat in the first place, and would definitely be your maid of honor in the future- would definitely want to know about your kiss with Mat Barzal. 

“Amy…”

You reached over to the bedside table for your phone and the first thing you noticed, after pressing the power button, was an unread text from none other than Mat Barzal, sent at 1:38 am, probably when you got home last night:

Maty: Hope you don’t feel too bad when you wake up.

It was strange, it was unlike him to leave such a message. Yeah, he always checked in and texted you saying he hopes you’re feeling good, but there was no “sleep tight” or anything funny or cute and not even a smiley emoji like usual. Well, in his defense, you had just kissed him. Of course, he’d feel weird around you. 

You sent a quick text to Amy, who you hadn’t spoken to since the beginning of the trip now, and who must have been dying to know anything that happened between you and Mat. She would probably be happy you kissed him, bless her heart, she was in love with your friendship with Mat and the story of how you came to meet, but you needed someone to listen seriously to your problem and help you.

It’d be at least another hour until Mat gets up, you guessed, so, with much hesitation, you dragged yourself out of bed and to the bathroom where you steadied yourself on the sink as your head spun, washed your face, and caught a glance of yourself in the mirror, running a hand through your hair to smooth it down before opening your door to face the day. 

The first thing you noticed, even in your state, was the smell of coffee and breakfast from the kitchen. Usually, you loved that scent, but today it made you want to puke, and as you sat down at the island in the kitchen, you dropped your head into your arms and groaned.

“Rough night?” 

“Pretty bad.” 

The sound of a water bottle being set down in front of you was much louder than it should’ve been. “Drink, it’ll make you feel better.” You took a sip of water and laid down on your arms again, going back to suffering in silence and wracking your head over trying to figure out any possible way out of this sticky situation. “What else is wrong?” You looked up to where your mom was making knowing eyes in your direction. You were close to your mom, sure, you thought you had a pretty good relationship with her, but you were positive you didn’t want to tell her what you had done last night. At least, not now. You knew the news would eventually get to your dad, and you couldn’t imagine what would happen if he found out. 

Hopefully staying pretty ambiguous would save you. “I think Mat’s mad at me.” 

“I doubt it. The boy adores you.” You wanted to tell her no, that’s gross, you’re only friends, but something made you stop. Mat did adore you. He was always there for you, he was the greatest friend ever, and how do you repay him? By kissing him and screwing up both of your feelings? “What makes you think he’s mad?”

“I think I did something stupid last night. Said something dumb when I was drunk. And he sent me a text before bed last night that didn't sound like how he usually does.”

“Well, you won’t know until you talk to him. It won’t be any good to ignore him for the rest of the trip” Fuck, why did her advice have to be good words of wisdom? 

A door rattled open from down the hall and there was Mat, rubbing his face, his hair falling into his eyes, as he crossed the hallway into the bathroom. He cast a glance to the kitchen, locking eyes with you for half a second before he was gone.

You knew he’d be getting up now, so, grabbing your water bottle and phone, you made your way to the back door to avoid any alone time with him. “I’m gonna get some fresh air.” And you headed out the back door and down onto the beach.

Amy had texted you back by now, telling you to call her right away, and you took the moment to reflect, walking down to the water’s edge and just looking out. The early morning heat was cooling down, the sun had barely risen and already dark clouds were rolling in from the horizon, the rain was coming, maybe even a storm in the next hour or so. Sure, you may have made your friendship awkward, but for now, you’re still friends. At least until he comes out to confront you. So until then, you were gonna be proud. You had kissed him. His lips were just as soft and nice as you expected them to be, and his face pressed against yours was something you could get used to. Unfortunately, that scenario was unlikely. 

Your heart raced when you started connecting the video call, and you couldn’t help a smile from spreading over your face for the first time all morning. Yesterday, besides the mistake you’d made, was easily one of the best days of your life. Mat took you out to the pier because he remembered you loved it when you were younger, he remembered he promised to teach you to skate, he even remembered your favorite ice cream flavor. And, despite how much you regretted kissing him, you had kissed him. You had kissed Mat. God, Amy is gonna be fucking ecstatic for you.

“Haven’t heard from you in a while.” 

“Ames, I’m sorry for not calling sooner-”

“Are you kidding?” She laughed, always a welcome sound, and you knew she wasn’t upset. “You’re on vacation with Mat fucking Barzal. But now that I have you for a few minutes, girl, spill. All. The. Details. Now.” 

“Yeah,” You laughed at her words. All the details? “He took me out to the pier yesterday for my birthday. We roller-skated together and held hands.”

“Oh my god, seriously? That’s so fucking cute!” You winced at the way she shrieked in joy for you, your head still pounding as you tried to overcome the hangover. Amy immediately noticed your change and lowered her voice. “Girl, are you hungover?”

“You tell me. I’m twenty-one now, aren’t I?” Before she could start talking again, you continued, figuring it would be easier to just get all your words out there and over with. Rip off the bandaid. “Actually, I did something really bad last night. When I was drunk.”

“Oh shit. Spill!”

“I…” You couldn’t help the small smile on your face. As much as you hated the realistic part of this, you were still overjoyed it had happened. You shook your head and pushed on. “I kissed Mat.” 

It was almost comical how your friend’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened. It almost made you laugh, it had a little smile pulling at your face. Holy shit, it was still sinking in that you’d kissed Mat.  “Oh… my god. You kissed Mat. You kissed Mat Barzal. How was it?”

“Well, messy. I was drunk, he didn’t kiss back at all. But focus on the realistic part, Ames. I made it awkward.”

“Oooh…”

“How are we gonna be friends after this? He’s gonna hate me, he’s gonna wanna leave, he’s never gonna want to talk to me again. He must think I’m so dumb-”

“Babe, listen, he doesn’t think any of that. He’s head over heels for you. If not in love, then in platonic love at least.” 

“Now you’re sounding like my mom.”

“I hate to say it, but I actually agree with her then.” You sighed. As much as you wanted to listen to them, maybe the realistic side of your brain was just too powerful. “Mat has done stupid things around you when he was drunk. Remember the karaoke night? He was so fucking embarrassed in the morning.”

“Yeah, but he never kissed me.” He never kissed you, not once. Not even when you desperately wanted him to, when he was drunk or Christmas Eve, or New Years’, or his birthday, not even when you practically created chances to get close to him, not even when you kissed him.  No matter how much you wanted it, life isn’t a love song. “Look, things don’t just work out like in romance novels. Some things don’t get to last beyond one summer. Sometimes this shit just doesn’t happen. Sometimes it’s just a feeling.”

“It’s only a feeling ‘til you make it more.”

“Shut uuuup. He hasn’t spoken to me since then. He’s obviously upset.”

“Have you tried to talk with him?”

“I mean…” 

“So you haven’t. C’mon, you gotta at least ask him about it.”

“Okay, but if I ask him how he feels he might say he doesn’t want to be friends. If I avoid him completely, he can’t break off the friendship, right?” Before she could respond, you rambled on, maybe to her, maybe just to yourself. Sometimes it’s good to just talk yourself out of something. “We’ve become such good friends in the last year and I really don’t want to lose him because of something stupid that I did while drunk. I feel like I messed everything up.” 

“Babe, babe. You didn’t mess anything up.” Ames smiled at you over the phone as thunder rumbled in the distance. “This isn’t gonna drive him away, okay? He’s in too deep already. Trust me.”

“Alright, we’ll see.” 

And you would see. But now, you had to go to the porch, already feeling raindrops drip from the looming clouds above. The storm was rolling in. And it was coming fast.

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

Even before Mat’s eyes opened that morning, his mind was racing.

He rolled onto his side in bed, eyeing the pillow he had been hugging against him all night. It was as if he was a child who needed a teddy bear to fall asleep, and he hated how vulnerable you made him feel. But rather, you were his teddy bear and after that night in the motel, he couldn’t sleep without some sort of faux version of you that would never compare. Not to your warmth, your softness, your heartbeat against his chest, the soft sighs of breath against his neck. You had messed him up bad. You had kissed him, and it’s unnecessary to think it needs explaining why he was so confused. “I had a dream about you last night. We were really goin’ at it. You were really good, like, really good.” What had you meant by it? Was it just a dumb mistake? Or is what they say true: “Drunk words are sober thoughts”? The moment your lips touched his last night, he was flooded with serotonin. It was… well, maybe not perfect, but more than he could ever hope for. More than he thought he would ever get. 

He wanted it so bad, he wanted it for months now, but he wanted it sober. He wanted you to know what you were doing. He wanted you to mean it. He didn’t want it like last night.

He pushed himself up, hearing the muffled conversation from the kitchen. He knew it was you and your mom, and, though he couldn’t hear any clear words, he couldn’t help but realize that the conversation had to be about him, and for a moment he was strangely self-conscious. It was an unfamiliar feeling for him, but he was embarrassed, even ashamed he had let anything happen last night. 

He shouldn’t have let you get so drunk.

The moment he opened the door and stepped into the hallway, the conversation came to an abrupt stop. He glanced up into the kitchen, where he immediately caught your gaze, noting how much of a wreck you were this morning. He couldn’t help the way he rushed into the bathroom before you could say anything. 

He heard you say something about “fresh air” and then the back door opened and closed, he finished up his morning routine and rushed back into his room. He’d barely even sat back down in bed when there was a pounding on his bedroom door that was a lot less than friendly. 

“Mathew!”       

Your dad was gonna fucking kill him.

It was safe to say he’d never been more afraid as he jumped to his feet and stepped over to the door, debating on pulling out his phone to send a final “Goodbye, I love you” texts to you, his friends, and family. But there didn’t seem to be any time for that, as the pounding on his door increased. Sucking up a deep breath, he opened it and was greeted by the face of your father with crossed arms and a scowl. He could only choke out a terrified “Yes, sir?”, sounding like a pathetic teen boy caught in a girl’s room.

“(Y/N)”s upset.” 

"I-"

"I don't know why that is, but something tells me you have something to do with it." Mat went silent, trying to figure out what he could say. You were upset? Were you upset with yourself, or with him? He had stopped your kiss, brought you home, got you water, and tucked you into your bed, what had he done wrong? “She thinks you’re angry at her.”

“Why would I be-?”

“Mathew.” The boy closed his mouth when your father put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him over towards the bed. “Sit.” Mat nodded quickly and sat on the edge of the bed, flattening his hands on his thighs awkwardly and waiting for the lecture to start. “Listen, I don’t know what’s happening between the two of you, but I can see how much you mean to her. I know I shouldn’t be too hard on you, but I just need to make sure you’re going to treat her right.” Mat couldn’t help the smile that lit up his face momentarily. He was in the middle of opening his mouth to say thank you when your father rambled on, eyes narrowed, examining the boy in front of him. “(Y/N) has been hurt a lot in the past, and I’ve tried to help. It’s not my place to mess with her love life anymore. She’s not a baby. But the least I can do is make this right. I still remember what you said on our first day here. You like my daughter?”  

He nodded enthusiastically. “I really do. A lot.”

“Good. So then you didn’t mean to hurt her?” 

Mat’s head shook frantically, wracking his brain for what he might’ve done. “Absolutely not. I don’t know why she is, I don’t think I did anything wrong.”

 “I’ve seen her hurt so many times, and I’m gonna trust that you’ll treat her right. Now, I don’t know what happened between the two of you, and I’m not going to ask. That’s between you two. But she thinks you’re angry, you’re obviously not, and you need to fix it.” 

“I know, I promise I will. I’ll make her so happy, I swear to God, I promise you.”

The older man continued to look at his daughter’s friend for a few long, tense seconds, but Mat’s eyes gave everything away with no hesitation. His feelings were genuine, he truly, truly cared. He wasn’t lying. Slowly, he nodded, and Mat’s face lifted in a cautious smile. Was this… approval? Was this your father’s blessing? Your father slapped his hand on Mat’s back. “There’s something else I want to show you. C’mon, Mat.”

-----------

You sat alone on the porch with your little pile of shells, watching the rain pour down beyond the porch, watching the waves continue through the storm, always pushing and pulling despite the circumstances. And as you threaded shell after shell onto your little braided bracelet, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. 

It was the summer of 2015, you were sitting on the passenger side of his dad’s car, the wind in your hair and OMI's 'Cheerleader' playing on the radio. You had just turned 17 and were trying to live your best life on the coast with your new friends, forgetting about any of your responsibilities and just chilling for this trip. You might have been getting involved in the wrong crowd, but you couldn’t care less. You had your friends, you had your newfound teenage freedom, and, most importantly, you had him.

When you first met him, at the beginning of the summer, he was new to your group of friends. But he immediately seemed to take a liking to you. 

“You’re different.” He would whisper in your ear as you sat around the campfire with your friends before breaking away from the group to go make out by the cliffs. “There’s just something about you.” He would say as his hands glided over your swimsuit under the water, hidden from your other friends eyes. He knew just the right words to say to have you sinking into him, giving in, And you were stupid to follow him.

In the back of your head, this party was a stupid idea, but it was summer, you were young, he was hot, you had to live your life. What was the worst that could happen?

Kyle was behind the wheel of his dad’s car- maybe he had taken it without his permission, maybe not, who knows?- his beachy blonde waves blowing in the breeze and his blue eyes sparkling behind dark sunglasses. His hand was on your thigh, he was always touching you in some way, but what you didn’t know was that you weren’t his only girl for the summer. He wasn’t trying to hide it, all the signs were there, but you were too carefree to notice. 

The car came to a stop and you both jumped out, locking arms around each other before running over to the steamy, crowded party atmosphere.

Really, what was the worst that could happen?

You were sitting there lamenting over your past, nursing a cup of coffee and staring out into the thunder and rain, fidgeting with the object closed in your fist when the door opened down the porch. And when you looked up, of course, you were met by the man himself, wearing a lightweight gray hoodie, the hood pulled up over his dark waves of hair. “Hey Y/N.”

“Mat.” 

There was a moment of silence, perhaps for your damaged friendship or perhaps for the growing feelings that neither of you believed were reciprocated, as you both stayed in place, not knowing what to do or say to the right things to make it better. You let the silence, the tension settle uncomfortably between the two of you as the rain pounded as heavily as your hearts. Mat stayed in place where he was standing at the doorway, not wanting to come any closer. Whether it was because he was upset and grossed out or something else, you couldn’t tell, but you needed the silence to end. “Mat, I’m so sorry about last night. I didn’t mean- I was just, I was drunk and I couldn’t think straight-”

“Hey, hey. No big deal.”

“No, it was so uncalled for, I-”

“Hey, (Y/N), I’ve had people kiss me while drunk before.” He gave you a reassuring smile, but something was missing. Something genuine. That sparkle was missing from his eye and the sunshine was missing from his smile.. Something had definitely changed. Something definitely wouldn’t go back to normal. “Seriously. It’s nothing.” He swore. Cross his heart. Something was definitely wrong, but you weren’t going to bring it up. If he was alright with moving past this, so were you. “You don’t have to feel bad at all.”

“Promise?”

 “Promise. Friends?” He stuck out his pinky for you. 

You smiled at the gesture that threw you back to your childhood and accepted it happily, despite the twinge of guilt and fear in your chest. “Yeah, friends.” 

“Good. I’m glad.” Mat smiled, taking a seat next to you, pretending everything was normal. “I like being friends with you.” He was shouting at himself in his head, this is so fake, so forced. But he would rather force the comfort than not have you in his life at all. And then the silence was back.

The silence was painful, filled with unspoken words- words you could never say aloud- and both of you knew. You weren’t sure if the rain was picking up or it had just become so overwhelming between the two of you that you were hyper fixating on the patter patter patter of raindrops against the porch roof. Friends. Friends. If this is what it's like to be Mat's friend, you could only wonder what it would be like to have him as your own, to be his, to hug him and kiss him and protect him and have him do the same to you.

“I, uhhh.” You glanced over to see Mat’s eyes already dead set on you, and you wondered if he had been staring the whole time. You were almost shy as you opened your fist to him. “I finished it.”

“Woah.”

"Yeah, you like it?" 

“I love it.” Mat took the bracelet with delicate fingers, as if afraid he was going to break it, and slid it onto his wrist gently. A perfect fit. "It's amazing. You're really talented. Seriously. " His eyes were unbelievably soft as he gazed at the pretty shells you had worked so hard to braid together for him. All for him, from you. “I’ll never take it off.” 

"Oh, never?"

"I'm dead serious." 

Your heart throbbed in your chest. The idea of him wearing this bracelet you had worked so hard on, even when plagued by the thought that maybe he wouldn't want to be friends at all anymore, just had you so overwhelmed. The idea of him wearing something you made for him, something so personal, as if it was there to constantly remind him of this summer, of you. Like it was a cute inside joke no one else would ever understand, made your heart ache. It was as if you were claiming him, as if he was claiming you as one of his best friends, one of the few people that got a glimpse into his private life. You were special.

“I’m serious.” He repeated. “Honest. I love it.” 

“Thank you, Mat.”

His arm fell heavily but gently across your shoulders as he tucked you closer into his body, and something about the weight of it against you was comforting, a reminder that he was still there no matter what and he would always be there no matter what. Mat was resilient, and no matter how much you wanted to push him away, he was here. He was your friend. Forever, and through anything.

"Hey," Mat broke the silence. "I have something for you, too." 

"Yeah?" 

"Consider it a late birthday gift."

"Mat, you've already gotten me so much-" 

"Ah, ah. Your dad actually found these. I'm just presenting them." Before you had a chance to ask or even wonder what it could be, Mat was pulling some flimsy rectangles from his hoodie pocket. 

"Are these...?"

"From that summer." Mat finished with a smile, letting you take them from his hands. 

"No way." 

There in your hands were photographs your parents took of you and Mat, ten and eleven years old. The two of you were standing close, Mat’s arm around your shoulders and squeezing you into his hug, both of your faces lit up with wide smiles. You were so close that summer and you weren’t sure how your parents dealt with the two of you. That picture captured a moment of childish joy and innocence- grinning brightly in mid laughter as you built your final sandcastle of the summer together. LIttle did you know, back then, but the next morning, you’d be leaving, leaving your summer-long friendship behind.  

“Look at us.” Mat’s voice was tender, gentle as he leaned in closer and you fingered through the pictures. “I can’t believe we were so small.”

“I can’t believe you still smile the same, Maty.”

He laughed at the nickname that threw him back to that first summer. He quieted down for a few moments as you flipped through the rest of the pictures, his fingers drumming softly on your arm. “I still can’t believe we found each other.”

“I know.”

You could hear your heartbeat pounding against your ribcage as Mat leaned in closer to look at the pictures with you. Your breath hitched in your throat and you stopped suddenly as one picture caught your attention- the family picture taken that year, with both your family and the Barzals posing together as friends. But what really stuck out to you was the way Mat’s face was pressed up against your cheek, in the most innocent, childish kiss you’ve ever seen. 

“Wow, look at that.” Mat chuckled a bit through his words, his eyes soft behind you. He didn’t remember kissing you at eleven years old, but seeing that picture brought sparks to his veins and had memories flooding back to his mind. It was you. You hadn’t just been his first crush, but his first kiss as well. “We’ve come pretty far, eh?” Your silence was almost painful to him, and he couldn’t help the way his face fell. Wrong thing to say, wrong thing to say, oh god oh god oh god.

“Yeah, we have.” 

He smiled again as your voice filled his ears. 

“Do you remember that place, Mat?” His eyes followed your finger as you traced the rocky cliffs in the background of the photo. Oh, did he remember. The little hidden beach, surrounded on three sides by rocky cliffs and sandy dunes and the little ocean inlet shallow and warm and perfect for swimming in, was a beautiful place that immediately brought back memories. You had first found that place on a family walk, and Mat had dared you to jump off the cliffs into the water with him. Of course you didn’t end up jumping, as neither of your parents let you out of their sight. 

“It’s our little hideaway.” 

“Yeah.” You sat in silence for a moment, in awe that you had such a private little place with him, and noticed how the rain was slowing down. “When it stops raining, do you want to walk there tonight?” 

“Absolutely. As much as I love your family, I’ve been dying to spend some time with my girl again.” 

My girl. My girl. My girl. Too much? 

But the smile on your face reassured him. “I wanna spend more time with you too, Mat.” You threw your arm around his shoulders in an act you thought was sweet, but regretted it and drew back your arm as soon as he let out a sharp hiss. “What’s wrong?” 

“Ah, nothing.” 

“You’re sunburnt, aren’t you?” 

“No, no, it’s not bad.”

“Mat, I told you you’d get burnt!” He was quiet, red faced, and you weren’t sure if all the red was from the burn or embarrassment. “Let me see.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Mathew!” 

“I promise.” But you stood up, always just as stubborn as him, photographs in hand, and held your hand out to him. He looked up at you, amused. Oh what you did to him.

 “Come on. We’ll fix you up, dummy.” 

Mat laughed and shook his head before giving in, his palm sliding into yours and following you obediently back into the house. 

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

The rainclouds had finally cleared, though it was too late in the day to get any sunlight in, and instead the vast blanket of stars were already beginning to twinkle overhead when you and Mathew headed out after the family dinner. 

“Mat, look at all the stars tonight!”

“You still love them as much as always, yeah?”

“Of course!” 

Mat watched you, adoration evident in his eyes, as you gazed up at the sky in awe. He had to agree. There weren’t stars like this in the city, not even in his hometown. This little oceanfront town didn’t produce enough light to block out the beautiful heavens above. But, his eyes were still fixated on you, on the wonder in your eyes and the way you were so soft and amazing in everything you do. The moon could be falling, for all he cared, there could be a literal alien spaceship in front of them, but all he could see was you. “Beautiful.” 

“They look best after it storms, I think.” 

“Yeah?” Mat could do nothing but nod along, too lost in his own thoughts to find words to say. He hoped he didn’t seem too boring, but walking there, hand in hand with you and feet in the warm sand, his mind couldn’t help but wander. What if you loved me, (Y/N)?

“I think I wanna be a constellation when I die.”

“That’s-” Mat laughed a bit louder than he meant to at your sudden confession, and stumbled to pull himself back together. “That’s a little grim to talk about, isn’t it?” 

“I mean, I just think stars are so pretty, and I’d just love to be twinkling up there, looking down on people. Plus, I’m more of a night person anyway.” You smiled, and Mat’s heart fluttered in his chest. “What about you? If you were reincarnated as something? Maybe… ice? So you could live and die with hockey like you do right now?”

Mat didn’t even need to think for a second, he knew his answer immediately. Stars, stars, I’d lie in the stars with you, spend all eternity by your side. I’d drop hockey, all the wins and the trophies and the attention. I’d drop it all for you. “Yeah, that’d be pretty cool.” 

You walked, hand in hand, down the length of the beach, until you could no longer look back and see your house. Until houses no longer speckled the shore, and instead it was just you, Mat, the ocean and the stars, in your own little world. The shore rose beside you, and after walking around a little bend, you were suddenly hidden away in a little sandy inlet, rocky cliffs surrounding you on three sides, and the ocean, gentle and lapping on the other. 

“Here it is.”

“Looks the same as when we were young.” Your hand slipped out of his, just for a moment, to pull out your phone. “Smile, Mat.” His face lit up, not in one of the dazzling smiles you remember and loved so much, but a softer, gentler little smirk.

“Before and after pic, huh?”

“Yeah.”

For a few moments, his eyes gleamed in mischief, and you should’ve known what was coming.

“You know what? You still never jumped off the dock at the fishing spot with me. But I can think of something that would be even more fun.” You were about to ask what, but the smirk on his face as he glanced towards the cliffs and raised a hand to motion towards it should’ve told you that nothing innocent was coming. “Remember that dare?”

“Oh my god.” You laughed at the excited look on his face.

“Let’s jump off that rock.” 

“Are you the bad influence my parents always warned me about? Who asks if I’ll jump off a bridge with them?”

He laughed, loud and boisterous and bouncing around the sandy dunes and cliffs that hid you away from the rest of the world. “Maybe I am.” And then he stretched his arms above his head and tossed his shirt to the sand, the muscles of his now bare chest and shoulders shining in the pale moonlight, watching with a giddy smile as you looked him over with an incredulous laugh. He took a few strides back towards the rocks, giving you an enticing smirk and luring you out to him like a siren with his song. “So? You coming in or what?” You should’ve turned back right there; you should’ve recognized the signs and listened to your head rather than your heart, your hormones, and turned back to shore and ran, left him here alone instead of stepping over this boundary- scratch that, fucking barrelling through this boundary like it was a race to finish- but you didn’t. You stayed. Worse yet, you stepped towards him, foolishly, blinded by that goddamn stupid smile. 

No, no, you really shouldn’t. But you were so fucked for him, for that smile, for that cocky little “gotcha” laugh that he always did when you followed him so blindly, without any hesitation. You were so in love. Fuck it.

“Unfortunately, Maty, I’d follow you anywhere.”

There was a rocky path leading from the sand up the side of the cliff, a natural staircase, or so it had seemed when you were younger and more imaginative. Mat grabbed your hand to help you up, his palm big and heavy against your own, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you used to make it up here as children. 

At the top, your eyes met the most beautiful sight, and, for once, it wasn’t just the man standing next to you. The moon had risen over the ocean, casting its cool glow across miles and miles of water. The water was dark and blue and lapping gently at the pool below you, and the air was still warm, though the rocks beneath your feet were finally cooling off. You both watched in silence for a few moments, taking in all the beauty of the scene before you and forgetting all about his hand in yours. 

“It’s certainly a lot smaller than I remember.” It was true, the rock definitely wasn’t as high as you pictured it to be. It was a high cliff, sure, but standing atop it was much less intimidating than facing your feelings for Mat. 

“Yeah, well, you were a lot smaller eleven years ago too.”

He snickered, his hand squeezing yours, perhaps subconsciously, or maybe in realization, he’d still been holding it. But he still didn’t let go, and neither did you. His face was warm, not that you’d ever notice, not in the dark. “Well, you’re about the same size.”

“Mat! Not true!”

“Yeah, it is.” He pulled you against his side like he always did in a little half-hug and laughed that beautiful laugh of his. After a few more moments of smiling silence, Mat hummed in thought. “Ya know what? I know what would make this jump a lot more fun.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“Skinny dipping.” 

Your heart almost stopped when the words passed his lips. You hesitated to respond, laughing a little bit. “No, you’re not serious.”

“Yeah, I mean, no one can see us out here. There are no houses nearby. Only us.” It was tempting, so, so tempting, and Mat could tell you were right on the edge of saying yes. You were. “Listen, I’ll stay far away from you the whole time and I won’t even look at you, I promise. But we’re leaving soon, we'll probably never get another chance at this exact spot, and we’re twenty-one, twenty-two, let’s do something reckless. Let’s be stupid together. Yeah?”

You bit your lip, and Mat would never admit to you how much you turned him on at that moment alone, but he stored that image away for later tonight. You were considering it, but both you and Mat already knew you had made up your mind long ago.  

“Sure.”

“Yeah?”

You laughed, the excitement of doing something so scandalous and dangerous and intimate with him finally settling in. Mat smiled back at you, you both laughed and looked at each other with complete reckless abandon. There was nothing else to lose after this. Easily every shred of friendship would be gone. You couldn’t be just friends anymore. “Let’s be reckless.”

“Let’s go, baby!” 

“You first, though.” You stepped away from him and motioned towards his shorts, your heart pounding and cheeks hot. The smile on his face should’ve warned you that he wasn’t playing around here, but for some reason, you were still shocked at what he did next.

“Alright, fine.” You could feel a slickness between your thighs as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of his shorts and smirked as he shimmied them down, making a great show of swaying his hips and biting his lip, trying and succeeding to be as sexy as possible. And though you jokingly laughed and pleaded for him to stop, the dull ache in your core only worsened when you caught just a glimpse of what lay beneath the fabric, at the end of that V shape in his hips. Your eyes shot up to the sky, your face red hot and shy when he lifted his swim trunks as proof and flung them towards your feet. 

“Ew, Mat!”

“Come on, your turn!” Your heart pounded and you couldn’t help the wave of self-consciousness. But Mat’s smile was addictive, and he made you so comfortable, comfortable enough to have you pulling Mat's hoodie over your head, letting it fall by your ankles and leaving you in your bikini.

“Turn around, Mat.” 

He raised his hands in surrender and smiled as he turned, and you couldn’t help but glance- for just one second- down at his toned thighs and ass. Wow…. “I know you’re staring, y/n/n.” 

“Wha- no!” 

“I don’t mind, babe. Look wherever you want. I'm all yours.” And his body shook with laughter as you undid the string of your top and slipped out of your bottoms and tossed the fabric towards his feet. You could see him do a double-take at the sight, as if he didn't believe you were serious about skinny dipping, but you couldn’t bring yourself to laugh, to busy marveling at his physique, the dark swoop of hair he kept running his hand through- a nervous habit you’d recognized as far back as 2008- the muscles of his back and shoulders, the dip at the small of his back, his toned ass, his thighs... He wasn’t even looking at you, but there was something about how you were so bare, so vulnerable, so close to him. Just the idea of his body and yours being so close and so primal, so exposed, and about to take this leap… something was stirring up a fire, a fire you'd put out later. Your fingers slipped down between your thighs momentarily, marveling at how hot Mat made you before they wiped hastily on your thigh and you stored those memories away for later that night. Your other hand curled into Mat’s again, and his fingers squeezed around yours at the contact, as if it was the most natural thing to do. The only thing against his body, besides your own skin, was the bracelet you had put all your love and energy into, all for him, and now you were standing on the edge, taking a final breath. About to jump. About to fall with him as hard as you’d already fallen for him.  

“You ready, Maty?”

“I think I should be asking you, pretty girl.” 

You hesitated, still a little nervous, trying to build up that excitement. “Countdown?” 

“Course. After three. Say it with me?”

“Okay." Your thumb smoothed over his hand, tightening your grip. "Three.”

“Two.” He squeezed back.

“One.” 

Mat gave a final, devilish smirk as he whispered “Jump.” and, with one of his iconic howls, your feet were off the ground. 

You felt so free, so vulnerable, so exposed, falling naked through the cool air, hands clammy and grasped against each other, shrieking in excitement and adventure. You had bared yourself to Mat, you had stripped yourself of any fears and leaped with him, as if each article of clothing that hit the ground was another shedded insecurity, another forgotten reason for hesitation. You’d pushed the boundaries until they couldn’t go any further, then said “fuck it” and tore the boundary away. There was a brief moment of fear as you hit the cold water, but the moment you resurfaced with a gasp to see Mat’s smiling face, his hair dark and saturated, dripping into his eyes, you couldn’t help but laugh. 

You'd done it.

"Wow!"

“Right?” 

Your combined laughter filled the little inlet with squeals of glee as you splashed around with Mat. It wasn’t too deep, but deep enough that your feet couldn’t touch the bottom, and you instinctively gravitated towards Mat. You moved closer toward him, maybe subconsciously, as if your body craved his more than your mind would ever be able to comprehend. As if you were pulled to him by some force you couldn't control, the same way you'd found each other after 10 years apart, how you'd found yourselves here again, so close, so opened up and bare before each other, even after you'd both thought you'd wrecked any chances. How you had found the sunshine in Mat's smile again, even after the rain. 

"Was it worth it?" 

"Absolutely!" 

The water was cold, goosebumps were popping up along your arms and legs, and across Mat’s as well. And as you drew closer to him and reached out for his wrist, dragging your hand from the bracelt he wore so proudly, up the length of his arm, his hands reached for yours as well, looking for a lifeline as his smooth voice reached your ears. 

“You cold?” 

You nodded and ran your hands across the tight muscles of his biceps, warm despite the chilly air, and flattening them against his chest before bringing them up, up, up behind his neck to tangle in his dark, wet hair. Your breath hitched in your throat when Mat's hands dipped under the water to your waist, leaving a bit of space between your bodies and honoring his promise from earlier to stay away, but asking permission with his eyes. His big hands squeezing your waist was making your mind spin, and you could barely stutter out a quiet: “You?”

“Nah. Feels fine for me.” He grinned, "But I can help you." He pulled you ever so slightly closer, slowly, slowly, until you were flush with each other, your bodies slick and wet and warm in the cool water, every crevice and curve fitting against each other like puzzle pieces. Mat’s blown eyes traced over your face, from your eyes, down to your lips, and leaned down, pressing his face against your shoulder and pulling you as close as possible, bringing a knee up to prop you against him. He opened his hot mouth along your skin, leaving wet kisses across your shoulder and up your neck. Your chest was pressed flush against his, your nipples poking out hard against his skin, your hands in his wet hair, his big hands engulfing your waist with his touch, his knee inserted between your thighs to keep you against him, floating, weightless, against him. “Let me help?”

And God, how you wanted him to help.

It seemed as if every part of you was touching. Your skin was hot and wet and the sound of the gentle lapping of water against your bodies and on the shore made everything feel like a dream. Even more euphoric, though, was the way Mat's eyes- dark and needy- found yours, in the way you'd always seen in your dreams. The way you'd only seen in your dreams. Until now.

And then, finally, your mouths.

Your mouths collided hot and needy, open and wet and the furthest thing from chaste, wanting to swallow each other up, to ease the aches you had tried to bury so deep in your bodies. You wanted to get so lost in him that you’d never come back, so lost in him that for the rest of time it’d only be you and Mat and the ocean. Weightless, naked, and hot. And he wanted to bury himself in you, hide away from the rest of the world for just this night. He’d been craving it all week. And what he’d been craving was more than sex, it was the affection, the intimacy, the closeness of being with you, entangled with you, so gentle but so needy, giving in completely and finally- finally- letting your hearts take control. His tongue was slippery and warm against yours, and it felt, for a moment, as if this was meant to be.

“I would treat you so much better than he did.” Mat’s mouth was hot and wild and messy against yours, breathing against you and moaning out his confession. “I would be so much better. I’d fucking cherish you.” 

“Mathew.”

“Fuck, I’d take such good care of you.” 

“Mat, I want you.”

 “Fuck,” He groaned against you, rocking his body against yours gently. Your hands burnt his skin wherever you touched, your nails dragging along smooth, wet skin and leaving angry red lines in their wake, dragging down his sides, over his hard abs, right to that one forbidden area. “I want you so bad, baby.”

There were no more words, only hot, aching silence as Mat held you against him. You were slick between your thighs, even under the water you could feel that familiar warmth, the tingling in your belly at the sound of his voice and the feeling of his face against yours, his nose pressed against your cheek as his lips ravaged yours, his tongue delving into the crevices of your mouth to taste you, to feel every part of you. His hands slid to your ass and pulled you as close as possible, molding your skin against his and gluing you to him with the passion. You could feel his desire, hard and swelling and needy between your bodies, and you wanted him. You wanted him more than anything. 

“Stop, stop, stop.” 

Mat, always concerned with you before anything else, pulled away, his eyes wide and worried, his hands dropping you back into the water, where you pushed yourself back as fast as you could, trying to catch your breath. “What?”

“We can’t.” 

He said nothing else, but nodded and stepped away from you, averting his eyes, his face hot and his head spinning. Fuck, he was still aching. But you took your chance to wade to shore and scramble up the rocks to collect your clothes and hide yourself again. You were shaking, trying to shake away the shame flooding through your body at what you just did. Fuck, fuck, fuck, why did you have to do that? Why did you do something that stupid? If last night didn’t ruin your friendship, tonight certainly did.

Mat was standing in the sand at the bottom of the cliff, turned away from you, trying to even out his breathing, and you brought his swim trunks down as a courtesy, the least you could do. ���Thanks.” His voice was choked up, strained, and he cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck before pulling them back on.

The walk home was silent, but not silent in the way that it had been earlier, comfortable and warm. There was no hand-holding, no smiles, no funny small talk. Only pain and heartbreak. Both your minds were struggling to process the last hour. Why had you decided to leave the house tonight? Why did you let yourself take it that far? How could you ruin something so amazing? How many chances would you give each other before giving up and never spoke again?

You almost ran up the porch into the house and to your bedroom, as Mat followed silently behind. Your bedroom door was already locked, you were already hidden beneath the covers, tears in your eyes and hands between your thighs with the thought of Mat paguing your mind, when Mat made it to his, glanced across the hallway at your door, and finally hid himself away.

He wished he didn’t feel this way, he wanted nothing more than to love you as a friend, but the same as every other night, Mat fell asleep with you floating through his mind. Only this time, it was more than your image. It was the smell of you, your burning touch, your sweet taste as your tongue danced against his own, imprinted on his brain, daring him to even try to think of another woman ever again. He bit his tongue as he jerked his desire desperately into his hand, holding back his moans and his cries as he spared one last thought to you before spilling out and letting the tears stream down his hot cheeks. 

And he fell asleep, sticky and shameful and, like always, thinking of you. 

[writing-realityawayfromreality]

*I’m thinking about having this part in the story that I am currently working on but it is a bit different so PLEASE let me know what you think. I’ve had this idea in my head for awhile now and spending time with my niece has made me really think about kids of my own one day. Also please note that this story is supposed to take place when Harry is 30. I’m hoping the one direction reunion comes WAYYYYY before that but to just make the story flow a bit better I had to make him older.  Anyways, as always, all the love,

K*

“Where daddy?” your youngest daughter asked as you and your children take your seats in the front of the crowd. “He’s back stage.” your oldest daughter  said. “Why?” Your two year old daughter asked once again. “Because that man right there” she points to James  “is going to ask him some questions for tv.” your oldest daughter tried to explain as best as a five year old could. You just chuckled to yourself listening to your daughters talking when you felt your phone go off.

 Harry-

Did you guys get to your seats alright? 

You quickly answered knowing that he was about to come on stage at any moment. 

Just sat down, the girls are excited to see you preform.  

Harry-

See you soon my loves. 

You were going to respond when you heard James ask the crowd to put their hands together for Harry styles. Your two daughters jumped out of their seats and started cheering for their dad. Harry had walked out from the back stopping briefly to wave at his daughters before giving you a wink. You could feel yourself blushing, there wasn’t a day that went by that you didn’t love Harry as much as you loved him when you first started dating. Your two daughters called out to their dad as he sat down next to James which only caused him to laugh a bit before blowing them kisses. 

“Harry...” James said making Harry chuckle “James.” Harry said getting serious and looking him in the eyes.  “It’s been awhile since we had you on the show.” James started out. “How’ve you been?” “I’ve been amazing. I just put out another album, spending a lot of time at home with my beautiful family, just kind of basking in this time together before going on the road again.” He said looking at you. “Well I think you just answered all the questions that i had prepared for the show tonight so... ladies and gentlemen, Harry styles.” James said laughing as everyone started clapping.  Harry gave a joking shrug and stood up pretending to head backstage. “No no no I’m just kidding. Sit down.” James continued laughing. “You took some time off from touring and in that time you made this album, you want to talk about the new album a bit? I mean during your one direction time if felt as though you guys were always on the road and then the hiatus happened and you all had your solo careers and you put out your self titled album, toured. Took some time to put out fine line, toured then the pandemic happened so it pushed tour off a bit and then you finished tour, took a year to  write your third album, toured that one and now you’re putting out your fourth album? James asked looking at Harry. 

“Yeah...” *coughs* “So, the first five years of one direction we put out an album each year and we toured almost all of them besides the last album which we still yet have to do... ” Harry smirks as the crowd cheers. “I love touring and whether you were here from the one direction days or just discovered my music yesterday I really appreciate all your support and I know all the rest of the boys appreciate it as well. I had just met my then girlfriend before hiatus happened. On tour actual, it’s a funny story. But anyways I took some time off after the hiatus hit and really I tried to find who I was. I was in two movie “Dunkirk” and also “Don’t worry darling”.  As far as music I had then put out my self titled album and toured that. Took some time off to write Fine Line, started touring that a bit but like you said the pandemic shut everything down so i had to wait a year to tour that album. And then I took about a year to write the third album, wrote most of that while touring Fine line.  I toured that one of course , and then I took year and a half... not really off, but instead trying to write a album that meant a lot to not only me but my family as well. Can any of you guess what I am going to do next?” Harry asked gesturing towards the crowd. “Tour!” they all yelled back as harry smiled. “So tell us about your album that is coming out.” James said.

“Well, so like I had said, i took sometime to figure out who i was as a solo artist and you know when you’re performing a certain type of music for so long you yourself kinda get lost. But I had my now wife y/n by my side and she kinda helped me to reconnect with myself and be comfortable with making the music on my first album, she has supported me day in a day out and I can’t thank her enough. I then went onto write Fine Line and that album was written while y/n and I had broken up and we were seeing other people and there was just something about y/n that I couldn’t let go...” Harry stopped when he heard people the crowd awe. “Don’t worry, we ended up back together... clearly.” harry laughed. “But by the time the third album came out I was already married and now i took some time off to spend with my wife and daughters and that’s how the fourth album was born, it was based on all the emotions that I was feeling. I was surrounded by friends and family, so this album is upbeat and happy, it’s about love, loving yourself, being in love, loving life, and loving one another. 

“Not to switch topics but you mentioned your wife...” James said. “I did... can we get a round of applause for my beautiful wife.” Harry asked as both him and Jame as well as the crowd started to cheer and clap. “You both are hardly ever on social media...” James started as Harry just nodded in agreement. “But when you guys are the fans get the best content, whether that be either you doing something or her doing something, sometimes it’s something your kids have done or something about your pets, and the fans just love it. A lot of the comments that i see is them asking for you two to be their parents. How does that make you two feel?” James chuckled. “Uh, well, my wife and I both agreed that we wanted to raise our kids out of the spot light so we try not to post too much but we would welcome whoever into our family with open arms... we just want everyone to feel loved and treated with kindness.” Harry said looking to the crowd as they clapped. “Speaking of welcoming people into your family, your latest post that the both of you posted was that you two are expecting your third child together!” James announced. “Wait a minute, three children?” Harry asked as though he was in shock by the news. Harry started to count on his fingers “Darcy... Angelique... and um... baby styles...” He held up three fingers “One, two, three, yep three... ” Harry pursed his lips and blew out air while still looking like he  was in shock causing everyone to laugh  “ladies and gentlemen give a round of applause for the expecting couple” James exclaimed. “I remember when you were on here when you two were first engaged and the next thing I knew you two were having your first child together and then your second, and now third!” Jame stated. “Well, that’s how it works James, you can’t have your second child first...” Harry Joked.

“Your wife is here today, is she not?” James asked. “She is, and my two beautiful daughters are here today as well.” Harry stated. “Almost three children now, what is that like?.” James said looking to Harry. “Honestly I don’t think I could had picked a better partner to raise children with. I don’t know how y/n does it all. Together y/n and I have two beautiful daughters with another child on the way. Darcy, our oldest had just turned five last month and Angelique our newly middle child will turn three in two months. They are both keep us on our toes, and are both super sassy, we think they get that from their uncle Louis...” Harry laughs. “But they are truly a blessing to the both of us. They love traveling with us, and are generally well behaved, um they do fight like normal siblings but at the end of the day you can find them cuddled up together on the sofa watching a disney movie, that comes from their uncle Liam” Harry stated looking at you and your children. 

“You really give a lot of credit to your wife, you guys have been married for four   years now? Where did you find the time to make music and get married and have children?” James questioned. “You’re really going to have me gushing over my family on live tv?” Harry asked smiling at James. “The fans want to know, you guys are pretty private.” James said laughing. “ We did get married in 2020, before covid hit, we found time in between touring, so we’ve been married for 4 years now. “How long had you guys been dating prior to getting married.” James asked.  “ 5 years actually believe it or not. I met her back in the start of 2015, I was 21 and she was 18 and the moment I saw her I was head over heels for her. She wasn’t too keen on me however and really made me work to even take her out on our first date.” Harry said looking over as you recalled your first date. “Why didn’t you just walk over to her and say “hello love,  I’m Harry Styles, member of one direction one of the worlds biggest boyband...” I mean come on you are super famous. I’m sure that would had won her over.” James laughed. “It might have but I don’t really like to bring fame into my relationships.” Harry said. “So, how did you win over such a gorgeous lady?”  James questioned. “I just happened to go on a trolley ride that she was working on that day, it was an amusement park trolley. It was a private ride for the guys and I. Her and her coworker put on this little show, taught us about the history of the park we were at, they got dressed up as different people and sang songs. It was just amazing. Later that day I had asked if she could give me a tour of the park itself and we went on rides, I asked her to come to the concert that night but she declined. I think it was close to 2 months after meeting I asked her on a date to which she turned me down. It was maybe six months into knowing each other that she finally agreed to go on a date with me,” Harry laughed. “SIX MONTHS? Y/N! WHAT WERE YOU DOING TO THIS POOR BOY?” James questioned you. “She was in college and working full time and helping out her family and playing sports... but yes ladies and gentlemen it took me, Harry styles six months to get a first date with y/n. Which was a beautiful picnic and then I...” Harry stopped laughing a bit. “I set up this homemade movie theater type thing  later on that night” Harry stated which made the crowd awe once again.  

“Did she know who you were?” James asked. “She knew of us because of her sisters being fans but it wasn’t something that made her think “Oh man I need to date this man because he’s in a boyband.” Harry laughed. “Did she meet the other lads speaking of boyband?” James questioned. “She did, she had met them here and there a few times before dating but once we were dating she invited all of them over for a dinner... “ Harry laughed  “I remember she made this HUGE dinner because she wanted to make sure everyone had something that they liked to eat and she made a bunch of desserts. She was so nervous that it actually made me nervous just watching her it was like a chicken running around with their head cut off.  By the time the boys got there she was covered head to toe in all different types of spices and flour.” Harry finished laughing. You could feel yourself chuckle recalling the event. “The boys went home with a lot of leftovers that night.” Harry said while James and the crowd laughed.  

“Anyways...So we were officially dating in June of 2015 and a year passed.  We had you know, moved in together basically spent every day together, so November of  2016 that I had asked her to marry me. You know I was feeling really good, I was casted in a movie and my album was nearly finished. I knew that I was going to be going on tour and I wanted her to come with me.” Harry said “I take it that she said yes?” James joked. “No, she waited another six months to give me an answer...” Harry joked back. “No, no she said yes right away. *coughs* so then 2017 my self titled album came out and dunkirk and that was going great y/n had come with me on tour for a bit, but y/n and I had decided to break up only a year after being engaged and it was pretty rough. We thought we were moving too fast, she was still trying to get a degree, I wasn’t really home and our schedules weren’t lining up. So I finished up the tour in 2018 for my self titled album, um  y/n and I had reconnected in september of that year after both of us had dated other people.  I spent that year writing Fine Line, so that’s what that album is about. But we both agreed that we still had feeling for one another and we wanted to pick up where we left things so we were re-engaged in 2018. Beginning of 2019 Fine line was released and we had also found out that we were expecting our first daughter. We both talked about getting married as soon  as we found out about our baby but after a many many long conversations we agreed that we didn’t need to be married before having Darcy but in 2020 we finally tied the knot, we actually waited until Darcy was able to walk so she could be our flower girl. Freddie and Bear both carried the rings down the aisle for us, it was great to have the guys at the wedding. Not long after we were married we found out that we were expecting Angelique.” Harry finished looking at you and smiled. “Wow, so you guys have been together for roughly 9 years, married, 4 albums out and now expecting your third child together. Would you had ever thought that you would be a father?” James asked. 

“Oh for sure, I’ve always loved children. While in One direction we had Lux around. All the boys and us are now fathers and it really is something, i wouldn’t change it for the world.” Harry answered. “Any more children after this one?” James asked as Harry looked to you and smirked. “ I think that is up to the misses. I mean, I’m 30 now, she’s 27 with a five and almost three year old and a new baby soon. we still have time if we would want any more children.” Harry finished off the statement.