#I wake up. they both dropped tracks overnight.

[cotyledonal]

I'm convinced that kendrick actually made that 19 min long version of euphoria and has just been chopping it up for these insane drops

[yesmaddyposts]

I put this in a comment and then realized I should probably actually "ask" it, haha. I'd love to see with Jody/Colt with #1 Touch starved/cuddles. I feel like they are both super realistic candidates for it given their year of separation... Esp given Jody's attempt to say she had a lot of "far superior" experiences during their time apart, but that was obviously a lie since she was 100% still in love with him from his first appearance back into her life, just more hesitant to let him back in... I specified #1, but they'd be perfect candidates for all of these prompts

Put That Guy In a Situation™️ Ask Prompts Game No. 1 : Touch-starved/cuddles

Fandom: The Fall Guy (2024) Word Count: 700 Relationships: Colt Seavers X Jody Moreno Tags: Post Canon, Hospitals, Sleepy Cuddles, Romantic Fluff AO3 Link

Description: Jody's inner musings as she watches Colt sleep in the hospital after the events of the film.

Hospitals are never quiet, even at night. There is always a sound coming from somewhere: the hissing of the oxygen from Colt’s cannula, beeping machines, shuffling of the overnight nurses going between rooms, groaning and complaining patients from next door. Jody isn’t supposed to be here this late, but when the nurse came in to tell her that it was time to leave, one look at her desperate face was enough for them to back out of the room with understanding in their eyes.

Now, Jody watches Colt sleep with the sort of intensity she only ever gives to something she is passionate about. Like when she is tracking a subject with her camera, ensuring the best angles are captured in time with the rhythm of the scene. A song only she can hear. Her gaze dances to that song now, looking over all of Colt’s wound dressings. He sleeps on his back with a pillow tucked under him to support his spine. There are butterfly bandages across his nose and cheek, and staples disappear into his hairline on the left side of his head. His hospital gown is sheer enough to see more bandaging around his ribs, but the blankets pooling at the base of his sternum cover the rest. One of his hands is outstretched over the bed, the other shoved under his pillow close to his ear.

God, she’s been so worried about him. Even before all this Metalstorm nonsense, she didn’t stop worrying about him for an entire year. All that worry mutated into a simmering rage when she locked eyes with him on the beach. It was fun for a moment during the fireburn to get petty revenge for everything he put her through. She delighted in seeing him uncomfortable while she updated him about her sex life in his absence. But after it was done she felt hollow. A type of cold spread throughout her that no amount of weighted blankets or meaningless hookups could chase away. 

Kissing him was the only thing that warmed her back up. Feeling his hands on her cheeks, grip so firm yet still gentle like she was something to be cherished. It was the type of cliche sensation that could only be read about in romance novels or seen in sappy films. But for her it had been real. She craves that feeling now, even though she knows he is in too bad of shape to do much about it. Jody reaches out to hold Colt’s limp hand. She traces along the lines of his palm, strokes the tip of her fingernail up his fingers. It doesn’t feel like anything on her end, but his own hand twitches at the contact.  

Colt’s eyelids flutter and his breathing catches as he wakes. Groggily, his gaze settles on her, then drops down to their hands. Jody doesn’t pull away, doesn’t disturb the not-quite-silence of the hospital room with an apology for waking him. Colt doesn’t look bothered. Instead, he closes his hand around Jody’s and gently tugs it towards him. Whatever he is trying to suggest doesn’t translate, and she just lets her hand go lax as he pulls on her again.

“C’mere,” Colt finally says, voice deepened from sleep.

He carefully shifts over in the hospital bed, trying to create space on one side. When he tugs on her arm again, understanding dawns on Jody. That warmth from earlier pours through her veins. She toes off her shoes and crawls into the bed with him. It’s a tight fit, and the mattress is stiff underneath her. But that hardly matters as Colt pulls her arm to gently drape across his middle with a satisfied sigh. She presses as close as she can without disturbing any of his multitude of injuries, tucks her face into his neck. She has missed the way he smells, missed the feeling of his stubble on her skin. 

Now she closes her eyes and drinks in everything she hasn’t had in eighteen months, delighting in the knowledge that there is plenty more of this to come in the future. The sounds of the hospital become muted, and eventually fade away altogether as she drifts off to sleep.

[daisychainsandbowties]

Lilith in N7 armor, though…

It may or may not surprise you to know that I actually have a whole mass effect au planned out in my head. I just…. Yeah. Ava Silva and the weight of the world on her shoulders. Ava Silva giving exclusive sponsorship to every single tech and weapons shop on the Citadel. Ava Silva with her aquarium and her pet hamster and a shadow longer than her life.

Ava Silva, waking up to fire in the sky above Mindoir. Ships blotting out the sky and the trees a smear of sound and heat and light outside her window. It’s enough to make them burst inward, waking her in time to save her life.

Boots in the hall of their little house and her mother running inside the room, pushing the dresser she made out of this planet up against the door they brought with them from the stars. Ava doesn’t know anything but this place – the grass crunchy in winter and the flowers in spring and the leaves in autumn and all the sunsets in summer.

Her mother has old scars on her hands and an old rifle she keeps under her bed and an old set of armour she wears now. It’s broken open across her chest and the gauntlets are cracked, falling onto the wood floor as she looks for Ava, finds her by the window in a halo of broken glass.

It’s weird, too see her smiling and bleeding at the same time.

There’s a second red heart on her chest, and when she speaks she leaves blood spatter on Ava’s forearms. Clutches at her so tightly that Ava is certain she could never let her go, but then she’s smoothing Ava’s hair off her face, tucking strands behind her ear.

She carries Ava to the window – she’s nine, too big for carrying and she squirms but her mother’s grip is iron. The grass is still wet from overnight rain, somehow, even backlit as they both are by fire. The shape of tall trees in her mother’s eyes which are just the same colour as hers. Brown like earth.

The door to Ava’s bedroom splinters and the last thing Ava hears as she’s pushed onto her back – out of sight and out of reach – is her mother telling her to run. This she knows how to do, running laps around the track at school while the other kids are still stretching out their legs. She knows how to do it alone in the woods around their house or down toward the lake, pretending to chase birds or her own shadow.

Ava, running and always, forever after this, running. Away from town, from home, with an old Alliance beacon in her hand, blinking like a red eye against her palm.

They’ll find you, she’d whispered, pressing it wet into Ava’s small hand, and they did.

When the Alliance come they find Ava. Just her. They ask her questions but all she can tell them about is fire, and sitting in the old cabin by the lake, underneath the floorboards with bugs the size of her hands crawling in the dirt around her. Staring at the beacon until she slept again. Woke again. Slept again.

Ten years later she’s on Akuze and everyone she trained with is dead around her. She’s fresh out of basic training and her armour belonged to someone else before her, ill-fitting at the shoulders and the hips. Her greaves rattle when she walks, and everyone teases her about it and then she’s running past pieces of them.

The creature responsible bleeds so much when it dies, and its insides burn where they touch Ava’s skin. When they find her, she’s carrying a fistful of dog tags, spends a week in a medi-gel bath regrowing a fifth of her skin. They recruit her straight into the N7 program, and some nights, sitting in various drop-ships eating expired ration bars, or gunning down mercs, she wonders if her mother would recognise her anymore. They were supposed to be farmers.

Then Eden Prime, the beacon and a Turian called Adriel who wants to bring about the end of the world. She meets an odd archaeologist on a lonely dig site and her name is Beatrice. A sniper on the Citadel called Shannon, who likes to wear blue. Their pilot, Mary, has a knack for pissing everyone off and a soft spot for Ava.

She sits in the mess late at night, when the ship’s circadian lights make everything dim and secret, drinking coffee with too much creamer and listening to Beatrice talk about the Protheans.

It's the wrong time to fall in love.

They win, eventually, and Ava is quietly side-lined for saying too much, too loudly about the Reapers, who want to come down from the sky and burn everything, like the slavers burned her home once upon a time.

And then she dies.

Her body, burned by the mouth of a planet upon re-entry, finds its way into the hands of a shadow organisation called Cerberus, who call her Lazarus and bring her back from the dead. She wakes up full of hairline fractures, her face trying to break open, bleeding red light like her once-small fingers, like running away again and waking up to flashlights, strange voices. Everything about life is circular.

She wakes in the hands of a girl with designer blood and bones not quite as handmade as Ava’s, but close. Her name is Lilith, and the first thing she tells Ava is that the galaxy hasn’t run out of ways to use her just yet.

[polyhexian]

Okay so obviously one of the stupidest funniest things about the Pregnant Belos AU is how Belos truly is stuck in this social and political nightmare just as much as Hunter and Jasper are, but like, the more I think about it the more ridiculous it gets.

Like sure, okay, Hunter never wants to be successfully "rescued", obviously. Jasper never wants Hunter to be successfully "rescued", even more obviously.

BELOS ALSO DOES NOT WANT HUNTER TO BE SUCCESSFULLY "RESCUED".

The stupid Belos-Jasper stalemate cold war ONLY WORKS because neither of them makes a move against each other. They're both hoping to keep this rickety peace that they've never even negotiated with each other and they're constantly hoping that the other one won't escalate the situation. Belos decides the effort to take down Jasper isn't worth it unless Jasper is actively working against him, and Belos is well aware that if Hunter gets "rescued" there is a 100% guarantee that Jasper will immediately actively work against him by making him dead.

So like. Belos is ALSO sabotaging the Coven Heads' attempts to rescue Hunter, is what I'm getting at here.

Like, Lilith excitedly outlines her newest Grand Plan to save Hunter and capture Eda, and Belos nods and immediately has a meeting with Terra where he drops hints about what Lilith is up to and Terra uses this information to go crash Lilith's mission and try and grab the glory for herself and that's how the two of them end up getting regurgitated by Hooty a mile away from the Owl House.

Belos has been scheming and plotting and manipulating for centuries, but Hunter is a big blank bubble of DO NOT TOUCH in the middle of his plans because Belos knows the second that kid is in his grasp, everything he's worked for goes to shit. So he's constantly trying to keep track of all his Coven Heads' and other officials' Super Secret Prince-Rescuing Master Plans and strategizing who is best to pit against who to make sure no one makes any progress in this whatsoever. It's absolutely galling because the Day of Unity is SO CLOSE and he REALLY should be focusing on preparations and coven recruitment so he can effectively murder these people, but nooOOOOooo, everyone's obsessed with his undercooked Grimwalker and he has to make sure the little brat NEVER ends up in the castle, because even IF Belos survives Jasper, his miserable excuse for a government probably would not, and he does NOT want to spend another few centuries starting this whole plan over from scratch, and also this is the last eclipse the Boiling Isles will see for DECADES, he CAN'T mess up this timeline and if he needs to spend any longer in this hellhole than absolutely necessary he's going to go insane.

So here he is zoning out in meetings, doing mental math on who is capable of beating who without beating them so hard that they end up dead and Belos has to find a new Coven Head, because that's ANOTHER thing he can't afford to mess up right now.

He wakes up one morning to find Perry Porter on the CB reporting on a disasterous overnight secret mission at the Owl House led by Kikimora and Belos just stares in horror because HOW did he not know KIKIMORA was planning this?? She actually managed to take them by surprise? Oh god, how close did he just come to Jasper-induced death? He watches the footage of Hooty eating scouts while Eda uses Owlbert to smack Kikimora away like a baseball and is just thankful that his enemies are competent enough to not let their little brat get captured.

And like, idk how much Jasper is gonna suss out, but he's not stupid and at the very least he'll realize that hm, okay, Belos isn't coming after us as hard as I know he could. He doesn't know the specific criteria in Belos's head that will make going after Jasper worth it, but clearly the current state of affairs means it's NOT worth it, so Jasper will just stay the course and keep it that way. He still thinks Belos might be doing all this for the greater good anyway, so it's no skin off his back to keep the emperor's secrets and not join a rebellion and ignore Raine everytime they try to pry information out of him.

The Boiling Isles equivalent of Dr. Phil is constantly trying to invite the Emperor and the Golden Guard onto his CB show to talk through their issues for the good of his ratings the empire, and every time Belos and Jasper burn the invite and pray that the other one is doing the exact same thing.

The Collector doesn't get it. Belos tries to explain the situation without getting overly frustrated and the Collector's just like "This sounds like a really stupid game" and Belos is just like "IT IS THE STUPIDEST GAME" and the Collector's like "I think I can see why everyone's playing it though, you're super mad all the time and it's HILARIOUS."

Belos and Jasper are just stuck in a really weird edition of the Prisoner's Dilemma and are doing their best to keep it that way.

Then Hunter is successfully "rescued" just before the Day of Unity and Belos stares at the kid in absolute horror that he manages to disguise as parental shock and relief. He frantically wonders if there's some way he can turn the boy loose, but no, the scouts are seriously upping security around the newly-rescued prince. Fuck. Maybe he can manipulate Luz again, get her to come re-kidnap the prince, it shouldn't be hard to convince her she has to stop the dastardly plans he doesn't have for Hunter, and Belos will give her the entry codes to the castle vaults and everything. (PFFFT what if Hollow Mind in this AU is literally just Belos dragging Luz around his mindscape like "Yes, yes, I'm Philip Wittebane, get over it, listen, I need you to kidnap Hunter.")

At some point he's desperate enough to stare at his scroll and consider sending Jasper a text message like I swear I didn't mean to capture your kid, it just kinda happened, he's fine, please don't kill me?

Caleb Wittebane's Hallucination Ghost somehow got ahold of Ghost Popcorn and it is NOT HELPING.

Like he is close, he is SO CLOSE to cleansing this perdition, he just needs to stave Jasper off a liiiiiiittle longer, he just needs to hold it together until he can get the draining spell started and then he'll never need to worry about Jasper again.

In the days before the eclipse, he downloads one of those dumb Countdown To The Day Of Unity! apps and obsessively checks it every hour.

ITS SO FUNNYYYYYY

Like the stand off... I think jasper is also on the same page that like. Jasper is powerful and he has a staff and he knows the damage he can do. And maybe he can't kill Belos. He isn't sure. But he can expose a LOT of dangerous secrets. He can kill a lot of people. He can REALLY fuck him over. But he doesn't want to because that could be bad. He could definitely die. Hunter could get killed. Not worth it. And also, jasper believes that even if Belos is A Monster. He still is trying to save the Titan from dying and he's the only one who can. So he doesn't WANT to fuck that up.

Neither of them want to fight because it's going to cause so much damage to everything they'd be fighting over. both of them would prefer no confrontation. And as long as no one starts anything... No one has to finish anything. It's just.... So funny.

The idea of Belos texting jasper "please come take him back and go home I don't want him" is so fucking funny. I suppose it's more realistic that at that point he's going to be holding hunter at the TIGHTEST possible leash like. He has to literally have him at his side at all times. He can't sleep, he has to be holding a knife to hunters throat at ALL times to keep jasper from jumping into action. The second he looks away jasper is IN there fucking shit up. Maybe it's right before the day of unity and Belos has to be incredibly sleep deprived and paranoid carrying around an angsty antagonistic sixteen year old boy while a man people think impregnated him is stalking him waiting for an opportunity to Kill and still trying to get everything to come together and Also there's this fucking human girl here wrecking shit and Oh My God Everything Is Terrible

[watchmegetobsessed]

SECRET

A/N: it's been a while since we last heard of my fav little family so here is a sweet little blurb that was kinda based on something i've seen on tiktok recently!

PAIRING: husband!dad!Harry X Reader

SUMMARY: You ask Harry to share a secret with you, then you share one of your own as well.

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

MORE FROM THE ANOTHER ONE UNIVERSE | SUPPORT ME!

The twins are spending the weekend with Anne and Ellie was invited to a sleepover birthday party, you just dropped her off, so it’s just you, Harry and Leo for tonight. It’s been a particularly hot day today, Harry texted you a picture of Leo in the inflatable kids’ pool, wearing his yellow sunhat, laughing wildly into the camera, his round belly looking so kissable, he only wore his nappy.

“Where are two of my favorite three men?” you hum to yourself as you set the grocery bag down in the kitchen and go to look for them.

The sliding door to the backyard is open so that’s where you head. You hear absolute silence and the little kids’ pool is now abandoned next to the big one. You stop on the terrace and looking around you spot Harry’s lying form on the massive sunbed covered by a lanai, shading them from the Sun and as you stroll closer you see that he is sleeping soundly, Leo on top of his chest, both of them out cold.

Your heart swells at the sight, Leo in his nappy, Harry in his swimming shorts, just enjoying the warm weather after their little swim session. It would only be even better if your other three little rascals were here too, but it’s also nice to have some peace around the house.

Climbing onto the bed you lie next to your husband and press a kiss to his shoulder, then the corner of his mouth to wake him up gently.

“Mm, you’re back?” he breathes out, his eyes opening just enough to check that it really is you next to him. He stretches his arm out to the side so you can lay your head onto his bicep, softly running a hand over Leo’s back.

“Yeah. Did my boys get tired in the water?” you ask quietly, careful not to wake the sleeping baby.

“Just having a quick nap,” he smiles, closing his eyes back. “Everything went alright with Ellie?”

“Yeah, she was ecstatic to spend the night at Scarlett’s,” you smile, thinking back at how excited she was when you dropped her off with her little overnight bag. Harry hums, acknowledging your answer and you take a minute to admire his side profile. His curly lashes, the slope of his nose and lips, the light stubble on his face, his handsome features still doesn’t fail to take your breath away. Even after spending more than a decade with him, you’re just as in love with him like you were when you just started dating.

“H?” you speak up softly, hoping he is not asleep.

“Yeah?”

“Tell me a secret,” you ask him. Your question surprises you, his eyes pop open and he turns his head to the side to look at you.

“A secret?”

“Something I don’t know about you.”

“Babe, I don’t think there is anything you don’t know about me after four kids,” he chuckles softly, but he quickly stops himself when Leo stirs in his sleep on his chest. Harry’s hands come to gently soothe him, rubbing his back and moments later your son is fast asleep again.

“I’m sure there is something I don’t know yet. Just think about it!” you beg him.

He hums, staring up as he tries to find something in his memories that you don’t know about just yet.

“Okay, remember when we first started dating and I kept sending you flowers to your place and workplace?” he speaks up after a while.

“Yes,” you nod, smiling softly. “You always sent a new one just when the previous one died.”

“That’s because I kept one flower from the bouquet, put it in water in my kitchen and when it died, I knew it was time to send you new ones. That’s how I kept track of it.”

And just like that, he stunned you with such a simple, but romantic thing he kept a secret this whole time. You always wondered if he marked the days in his calendar when he sent you the flowers, or had someone keep track of the deliveries, but the truth is a thousand times better.

Your lips wobble and your eyes water, this new little piece of information truly touched you.

“Oh baby, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Harry chuckles softly, pulling you closer to him so he can kiss your forehead.

“Sorry, I don’t know why, but I just got really emotional over this,” you wipe your tears away before pushing yourself up to kiss his lips. “That was very sweet of you, I would have never thought.”

“This is what love does to young lads. I was ready to do anything to make you happy.”

“Only past tense?” you ask, but only teasing him.

“You know it’s still what I want,” he smiles down at you. “I want to make you and our babies happy.”

As if it was his queue, Leo blinks his eyes open and lifting his head on Harry’s chest he looks at him and then at you before breaking out in a wide grin.

“Good morning little sunshine,” you greet him, tickling his double chin you love so much.

“God, I would do anything for this smile,” Harry sighs, pinching Leo’s chubby cheek that makes him giggle brightly.

“I can’t imagine not having him,” you admit, admiring your baby, who is now wiggling around on Harry’s chest happily.

“Right? He’s been here for less than a year, but I can’t remember what it was like before.”

“Wanna know a secret too?” you ask, still only watching Leo.

“Sure.”

“I once had a dream about our kids when we didn’t have any,” you admit and it’s the first time you’re telling this to Harry. Until now, you didn’t dare to bring it up.

“Yeah? What was in that dream?”

“We had four kids, two girls and two boys. Just like we have now.”

“Really?”

“Yes. It was like a… vision. Do you think it’s weird?” you ask, peeking at him.

“No, not at all. It just strengthens my belief that you’re a witch,” he chuckles, making you laugh too.

“And you still married me?” you ask, grinning at him, as Leo is now climbing over you.

“I couldn’t risk breaking up with a witch, who knows what you would have done to me,” he answers with a serious look and you just smack his chest playfully before he finally breaks out into a smirk. “It’s not weird, Y/N,” he then adds to assure you.

“This little lad made my vision true then,” you smile down at Leo.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[taurusdaylight]

heart is lost and lonely, but with you there’s forever only

summary. fumbling between racing tracks and loving kisses, the hopeless romantic in jeong jaehyun still remains hopeful in the promise that forever brings to him, and to you.

pairing. street racer boyfriend! jaehyun x implied fem college student! reader

genre. street racer! au, second chance love, fluff, angst with happy ending

word count. 5,394

warnings/tags. somewhat toxic relationship, suggestive content (making out, no smut), separation/breakup, haechan makes a cameo, and the story is mostly jaehyun-centric

a/n. hi i'm back! this idea came to me after i watched the forever only mv and i knew i had to write it so here it is :) i literally dropped everything, including my current wip lol. anyway, please give lots of love to jaehyun’s first solo song, forever only, and i hope you enjoy reading this too!

­–

It’s another sleepless night without you, and all that plagues Jaehyun’s mind is the scent of your warmth on his blanket, but the cold and empty side of the bed that you used to occupy is a glaring and painful reminder that you’re no longer here with him.

He turns over to his side, and with soulless eyes, he stares at the clock on his bedside table, wondering how it is possible for time to move so slowly. He’d been trying to fall asleep since eleven, and even though only two hours went by, it somehow feels much longer than that, hours passing by in a minute. He’s tired, but he’s unable to shut down his mind that’s filled with thoughts of you.

He yearns to feel your soft touch against his skin, holding you close in his arms as the both of you sleep the night away until daylight comes. He’ll always be the first to wake up, quietly getting out of bed to draw the curtains so that the white rays of the morning sun won’t disrupt your slumber. Then, he’ll return to his spot next to you, tracing his fingers along your delicate features that he already knows like the back of his hand, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead. Jaehyun could never get enough of waking up to you, but if back then he knew that it was something that came with an expiry date, perhaps he would have cherished those moments more.

Still wide awake, Jaehyun gives up trying to fall asleep. He pulls his blanket aside, getting up to grab his keys, slinging his black leather jacket over his shoulder.

In the past, you used to tell him off for going out late at night to ride his motorcycle whenever he couldn’t sleep. You’ve made it clear that you respect how he has to take part in competitions, but that aside, you weren’t really fond of him riding his bike at other times simply because you couldn’t bear the anxiety of waiting for him to come home without any injuries. He’s not much of a reckless driver, but sometimes the adrenaline gets to him and that’s when it becomes dangerous. It’s a bad habit that he’d promised to get rid of after you voiced out your worries, but it’s not something that he can change overnight, notwithstanding that it is also an escape from reality for him.

At the very least, Jaehyun doesn’t have to come home today with the fear of letting you down. Again.

­–

You didn’t exactly want to be here tonight, but Haechan insisted that you come along because according to him, you spend way too much time cooped up in your room and you ought to be out and about meeting more people.

And he’s arguably right about that. You see, the two of you have been housemates for almost two years, renting a shared apartment close to your college. And in the time that you’ve known him, it is always Haechan who informs you that he’ll be out till late, or that he’ll be inviting a few friends over to drink. It isn’t like those large-scale frat parties, but it still doesn’t take away the fact that he’s a huge social butterfly, considering how it’s always a new friend group that comes over each time.

Compared to Haechan, however, you’re more reserved and value the time that you have to yourself. Awkwardly greeting his friends and excusing yourself to your room whenever they come over, most of your nights are spent reading a book or watching old films. Even if you have nothing particularly special to do, you don’t mind at all.

But it is apparent that he has other plans for you tonight, practically dragging you to a secluded race track that’s outside of the city.

“Is it like… illegal?” you ask, keeping your voice low and looking around to make sure that no one heard you even though they probably know more about this than you do.

Haechan isn’t in the mood to race, so he joins you as a spectator tonight. You’ve often heard stories from him but never pried too much, partly because you’re not all that interested, and also because it didn’t seem like something he would openly share about. There’s hardly any lighting except the street lamps lined up along the road, and not to be stereotypical, but the eccentrically colourful outfits that the racers had on made everything seem more dubious.

Haechan throws his head back in laughter at your question. “Stop being so serious!” he says, landing a smack on your shoulder, and it makes you relax a little. “It’s kind of complicated but I promise it’s safe. It’s been going on for decades.” He leans into your ear, whispering, “And if you win, the money is seriously no joke.”

Your eyes go wide at his words, turning silent immediately. Kind of complicated, so it is illegal after all. You won’t admit it out loud, but it piques a sudden interest in you, and you’re somewhat grateful that Haechan brought you along. After all, it’s not every day you get to be a part of something like this, right?

Another question comes to your mind and because you can’t hold back your curiosity, you ask Haechan again, “So who's the best racer?”

“Jeong Jaehyun,” Haechan answers at once, jerking his head in the direction of the race track, and you do the same, but it’s difficult to see because of the dim lighting, or lack thereof. You can vaguely see the outline of his figure, sitting in an upright position on his motorcycle. “He came over before, not sure if you remember?”

Before you get to answer Haechan, a thunderous sound reverberates around the area, drowning out everyone’s voices. Their attention turned towards where the sound was coming from, whiffs of exhaust blast out from Jaehyun’s motorcycle as he starts the engine. Night light flashing, it allows you to get a better view of him.

Unlike the other racers, he’s dressed in full black. Long hair slicked back, the ash brown shade looks incredibly flattering on him, creating a sleek and chic look that really brings out his chiselled features. It’s also hard to ignore the immaculate fit of the leather jacket that he has on, accentuating his already broad shoulders. Completing his outfit with silver accessories, Jaehyun looks undeniably… hot. Everything about him screams heart-throb love interest that came straight out of a romcom movie set in the 90s. And now, even something as simple as watching him put his helmet on, you think that he may be the most attractive person you’ve seen in your entire life.

Thinking back to Haechan’s question, you more or less recall seeing Jaehyun over at your shared apartment before, but it’s almost a blur. He’d invited a few of his racer friends, and they were gathered in a circle playing truth or dare. And because you were so focused on escaping into your room that you mumbled a quick hi to all of them, barely getting a glance of Jaehyun for five seconds maximum, which probably explains why you never noticed how good-looking he is until now.

“Let’s go, Jaehyun!” Haechan shouts from next to you, and for a split moment, you instinctively put a hand up to cover your ear, startled. He’d always been an outspoken individual, but you still get shocked at how loud he gets.

Jaehyun looks towards Haechan’s direction, gesturing a thumbs-up before putting his hand back on the handle. Then, ever so slightly, he turns, gaze landing on you. It suddenly makes you feel small, the way he’s just looking at you, and you’re slightly thankful that he has his helmet on because you don’t think you’d know how to act if you were to directly look him in the eye.

Giving Jaehyun a polite smile, he nods back at you in return. The first to break eye contact, he turns his head back to the front, aligning his body to the centre of his bike.

Blazing trails of the sparklers light up the night sky, signalling the start of the race. The place is filled with cheers and screams from the audience, but all is blocked out because you can only focus on a particular someone. Eyes boring into his back, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in until he was completely out of your sight, speeding through the darkened tunnel.

True to Haechan’s words, Jaehyun is the first to make it past the finishing line that night, effortlessly defending his champion title with his opponents far behind – they didn’t stand a chance at all, if you had to be completely honest. He was also not lying about the money, and you couldn’t even hide your shocked expression as you watch Jaehyun stash stacks and stacks of cold, hard, cash into his bag.

What you don’t expect, however, is Jeong Jaehyun pulling up to the side of the road where you and Haechan were standing.

He removes his helmet, raking his fingers through his hair, your heart rate increasing by the second at the sight of it. Looking at you with a smug grin on his face, he asks, “Need a ride home, sweetheart?”

–

Needless to say, you took up Jaehyun’s offer. To be specific, you said yes in a heartbeat, and you’re not ashamed of it at all. Haechan, on the other hand, stood there with his mouth agape, whining about how you stole his ride home (you didn’t, but complaining happens to be his favourite pastime). Jaehyun gives Haechan a dismissive wave of his hand to shoo him away, and he takes it as his cue to leave.

Jaehyun gets up from his bike, takes his spare helmet, and carefully puts it on your head. Tall frame towering over you, he bends down to meet your eye level so that it’s easier for him to adjust the strap of the helmet. Between feeling the ghost of his touch over your chin and being so physically close to him that you get a clear view of his long and pretty lashes, you’re not sure which one is more lethal, but it surely is making you feel things and you can hardly calm down your beating heart.

“There we go,” Jaehyun buckles the strap, emitting a click sound. He goes back to standing up straight, smiling in satisfaction once he sees that it’s secure.

“Thank you,” you say with a shy smile, looking everywhere but at Jaehyun when you feel his gaze on you. He pats your head, motioning for you to hop on after he’d settled down on the front seat of his bike.

Trying your hardest not to make any sort of physical contact with Jaehyun, you lean back as much as possible after you’re seated, arms remaining at your side as you’re uncertain about where you should place them. You consider holding on to the side of the seat, but you’re also afraid that you will somehow fly off his bike since it isn’t a very safe and viable option.

Your predicament is interrupted by Jaehyun’s touch, his hands grabbing your forearms to bring them in front, circling them around his waist. Your chest pressed against his firm back, your protest is silenced by the sound of the running engine, Jaehyun not giving you a chance to even pull back.

“Hold on tight, sweetheart.”

–

Contrary to the cold exterior that he puts up, Jaehyun has a warm and romantic side to him that only comes out whenever he’s with you. Sweet with his words and actions, he never misses any opportunity that he has to shower you with compliments, often sneaking in a kiss or two while he’s at it too. Your heart never stops fluttering because of him, and honestly, you don’t want it to stop either. Every day you spend with him is a different adventure, and you fall in love with him more and more.

Above all, you love watching Jaehyun race. Fire in his eyes, his confident demeanour transforms him into an entirely different person. Jaehyun knows the sport inside out, and he never fails to let that part of him shine through, never fails to make you feel proud of him. Heart swelling with pride whenever he makes it back to the finishing line first, Jaehyun is always rewarded by your warm kisses at the end of races.

Because of him, you also know the most random facts about street racing, like how it’s only safe to ride his bike when the temperature is above fifteen degrees. And that even at a suitable temperature, he’d still have to warm up the tyre with some kind of special tool. He once brought you to the workshop to demonstrate it, and even though you don’t really know what he’s talking about, you still find yourself getting lost in him, the way he’d blabber on so passionately. This is just one of the many sides of Jaehyun that you hold near and dear to you.

Other days that you spend with him are mostly captured on film. Carrying his point-and-shoot 35mm Leica Minilux wherever he goes, your racer boyfriend happens to have a knack for photography too. The recurring image of Jaehyun taking pictures is something that you’ve grown to adore, and it is almost endearing to you. It is even more exciting when he goes to develop his film rolls, because you’ll be the first person that he runs to, showing you how well they turned out. And it’s always pictures of you that he claims to be his favourite shots.

On the topic of film cameras, he also mentioned before that this is one of his most treasured items, and how he doesn’t ever plan on switching it for another one – that’s just how precious it is to him. More than that, however, what surprised you more was Jaehyun comparing you to his film camera.

“You’re my first and last,” he said, throwing his dark blue denim jacket around you because it had turned chilly. A small part of you wanted to gag at his words, purposefully showing how cringe it was, but you decided against it. Because Jaehyun’s hazel brown eyes carry a sense of softness to them, showing you how serious he was about it. So you settle for a kiss against his cheek instead, making it known to him that you shared the same sentiment.

–

Hand intertwined with yours, you and Jaehyun sit side by side to admire the soft waves crashing against the shore, evening breeze passing by.

He turned up at your house earlier this afternoon and said that he really wanted to take you somewhere. He kept the location a secret and refused to reveal any details. Even during the ride here, he didn’t give in and merely told you that it was near.

Turns out, it’s a beach that he visits whenever he wants to be alone. Something like a secret spot, he said, and now he wants to share it with you.

“But if you want to be alone, then why did you bring me here?” you tilt your head in confusion.

“People say that being alone and being lonely are two different things,” Jaehyun says, solemn eyes musing on the water. “But for me, I feel lonely when I’m alone and I don’t like it.” You frown at his sudden revelation. Jaehyun rarely opens up about his emotions to you, so you never knew that he felt this way.

“There’s no reason for me to be alone now that I have you,” he continues, tightening his grip around your hand, and you offer him a reassuring smile. “And maybe with you here, this lonely feeling will start to disappear too.”

At his words, you put your head on Jaehyun’s shoulder, leaning closer to his side. The both of you turn to look at the beautiful view of the sunset, golden hues of the beams painting the sea, coastline and sky merging into one.

“This is our place now,” you say.

“For how long?”

“Forever.”

–

For a period of time, Jaehyun truly believed that he could spend forever with you. Not that he didn’t believe it now, but he was definitely starting to lose hope. Maybe it’s just how life works, but like the ocean waves that come and go, it seems like the good times that the both of you shared with each other are starting to waver. And he wonders if the calm after the storm will ever return again.

Over the past few weeks, you and Jaehyun have continuously fought with each other, and it’s to the extent that the both of you could not stand being in the same room for more than five minutes without starting another argument, even though the previous one hadn’t been solved yet.

Most of these fights ended with Jaehyun pressing your bodies together against the wall, his tongue slipping into your parted lips. One hand cupping your cheek and the other playing with the hem of your shirt, he kisses you with fervent need from not being able to touch you whenever he wants to. And you let him, your body reacting to his touches, kissing him back just as much. Because no matter how unhealthy this vicious cycle of fighting and patching things up was, it is undeniable that the both of you can’t live without each other.

But how far is too far?

For some reason, Jaehyun still feels you slipping away from him. Half-hearted replies, not seeing each other for days, you stopped coming for his matches too. The distance between the both of you getting bigger and bigger, he doesn’t know how to pull you back into him.

It’s true that both parties need to put in the effort to make the relationship work, but it feels even worse on his part because he knows that he’s the reason you two are growing apart.

As a racer, ordinary days are out of the question for him. And even though you seemed to like the thrill of that at the beginning, it is obvious that it is starting to take a toll on your relationship instead.

Jaehyun loves you. Truly, madly, deeply. He’s not the type of person to randomly date around in order to fill up an empty void in his life, but the second he saw you, his friend’s cute housemate who’d just returned home from a full day of classes, he immediately knew that there was something different about you, and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. Yet, he couldn’t just give up on racing because for years, it was the only thing that brought him solace and comfort, until you came along, of course. Still, he didn’t want to have to choose between you or racing. Because as selfish as it sounded, he wanted both.

Which is why Jaehyun constantly reassured you that he would not drive recklessly, that he would safely come home to you every night. But even that wasn’t enough to alleviate your worries. Because one way or another, the fight would gradually escalate into something else, like how it wasn’t a sustainable job and he’d had to eventually give up racing.

Jaehyun was tired. He thought that you’d understand him, but he also knew that it wouldn’t be easy dating someone like him, and that it wasn’t fair to you too. So the day you finally gave up and packed your things, he didn’t stop you from leaving him and only asked to kiss you one last time.

Even till this day, he can’t stop the memories of you from haunting him, and when they do, he wishes for another chance to try again.

–

“What is he doing here?” you shriek, and it seems like you’ve asked the wrong person because haechan looks just as confused as you are. He shrugs his shoulders, not doing anything to help your panicked self.

Jeong Jaehyun is standing a few tables away from you and getting himself a drink. Adorning the same silver accessories that he puts on daily, he’s wearing a white tank top that exposes his toned arms, along with a pair of black slacks that he really loves. Seeing your boyfriend, no, ex-boyfriend of two years after eight months, you don’t know how you’re supposed to feel. It may be the alcohol, but you want to shout at him to get out even though it’s neither your party nor your house, but you also really want to kiss him. God, he’s such a good kisser, nobody could ever compare, not that you kissed anyone else when the both of you weren’t talking to each other.

But you still don’t know why Jaehyun is here. This was a college mixer party, meaning, you could only get in if you had an invitation, or if you knew someone via connections. He wasn’t even a student. And the only two people that Jaehyun knew from your college were you and Haechan.

… And Haechan.

Of course it was him, that would make the most sense. Directing your attention back to your housemate, you didn’t even notice him wandering off to somewhere else, blending in with the rest of the crowd while you were getting distracted by Jaehyun’s appearance. You’ll get him later at home, for sure.

“Hey,” a familiar voice says, and it stirs up all sorts of unexplainable feelings within you, you feel like you're about to explode. How did he get here so fast? Turning to the voice, you greet Jaehyun back, a stoic look on your face.

He clears his throat, voice faltering upon seeing your expression. “Can we talk?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You stand up, wanting to get far away from him because you know that your walls would come crumbling down if you stayed around him any longer.

Jaehyun holds out a hand to your wrist, but swiftly retreats when he feels your body stiffen. He mutters a quick apology. “It won’t take long, please?”

Sighing, you nod in defeat, following him out of the house. All those weeks of trying to convince yourself that you’ll get over Jeong Jaehyun, your efforts have been rendered useless after seeing him in the flesh, his existence reminding you once again that you’ll always feel something for him, whatever that may be.

–

You should not be sitting on Jaehyun’s bike, your chest positioned close to his torso. But the porch is dirtied with someone’s puke all over it, so you don’t exactly have a choice.

“How have you been?” you’re the first to speak.

Jaehyun hesitates a little before answering, “I’m okay.”

He clearly isn’t.

Tired eyes and dark eyebags, it doesn’t take a genius to see that Jaehyun hasn’t been sleeping well, and your heart breaks a little at that. It could be because of the late night races, it could be because of you. Either way, it hurts to see him in this state. But because you’re no longer in a position to be caring so much about him, you feign ignorance and take his word for it.

“So what did you want to talk about?”

“Us.”

“I think I’ve made myself clear the last time, Jae.” The nickname accidentally slips out, but you try not to think much about it and hope Jaehyun doesn’t as well. “It’s not going to work out.”

“I missed you,” he confesses, bringing his large hand up to caress your cheek, completely ignoring what you said. “Tell me you missed me too.”

“I–” you take in a sharp breath, tears forming in your eyes as it suddenly hits you how long it’s been since you were this close to him, his gentle touch on your skin. “I missed you too,” you give in. Placing your hand atop his, a tingling sensation washes over your body.

Has it always felt this way, or is it because the two of you have been in separation for such a long time? When you tried to forget about him, moving on proved to be a difficult task because you always ended up reminiscing about Jaehyun and the memories you had with him. You fear that you’ll forget the crinkles by his eyes that form whenever he smiles widely, the earthy scent of his candle that reminds him of childhood home, and the way his hand fits perfectly into yours. And seeing him in person again, you want nothing more than to memorise each and every part of him until it is burned into your memory.

“Sweetheart,” Jaehyun calls out to you, voice still filled with so much love just like how you remember it. He pulls your hand towards him, pressing a chaste kiss against your knuckle before bringing it down to his lap, interlocking your fingers together. “Listen to me, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, preparing yourself for what’s to come.

“I need you to stay,” Jaehyun begs, not even bothering to hide the desperation in his tone. “I thought I’d be fine without you, but I’m not. I can’t sleep without you next to me, and you’re always appearing in my dreams. The traces of you that are left behind, I still cherish them, but it’s you I long to have.” He exhales, breath shaky, dark orbs revealing everything else that’s left unspoken. You’ve never seen Jaehyun so vulnerable before.

“Jaehyun…” You don’t know what to say, but you could see how painful it was, how long he’s been bottling it up. Your heart still carries so much love for him, because deep down, you know that he’s still the same Jaehyun that you first fell in love with. The same Jaehyun who would have a playful glint in his eyes, a knowing smile appearing on his face just before he’s about to crack another one of his jokes, patiently waiting for the right moment to say it.

Read: doing a word play on Harley-Davidson, the brand of his motorcycle, and Halli Galli, a traditional Korean board game that he regularly plays with his grandma. Echoes of his laughter surface in your mind, and you have to suppress a smile from forming on your face at the memory.

Despite the arguments, both big and small, you often find yourself only remembering the good parts of your relationship, because that’s when you’re the happiest, with him. Looking back, you don’t even remember what most of your arguments were about, save for the ones related to his racing, but even then, you can’t bear to take that away from him, especially not when you know how much joy he gets from doing what he loves.

“I don’t want you to give up what you love for me. It’s not fair and I don’t expect you to do that, so I think it’s better if we just went our separate ways.”

“No,” Jaehyun says firmly. “You know that’s not true, and I didn’t say I was going to give up racing.”

“Then you would know that it’s going to be a problem that will come up over and over again.” Your lips curl downwards as it reminds you of your past arguments. You hated going round in circles like this, always reaching a dead end each time.

“But we can work through it together, I know we can.” His thumb rubbing soft circles onto the palm of your hand, Jaehyun is determined to talk things out this time, instead of choosing to leave it unresolved like he did the past few times.

“How?”

“We’ll figure it out, eventually.”

A resigned sigh leaves your lips, and you find yourself stuck in a dilemma again. You want to be with Jaehyun, that’s for sure. And you know that there’s some level of truth to his words. If the both of you try to make things right, maybe, just maybe, everything will turn out well this time. But it’s also hard to ignore the unsettling feeling that bubbles in your chest, the possibility of things turning sour and resulting in a break-up again.

“So?” Jaehyun looks at you expectantly, awaiting your answer.

“Okay,” you say with a smile, and it brings a glimmer to Jaehyun’s eyes. For better or for worse, nothing is going to change the fact that Jaehyun will always be the love of your life.

“Okay? Okay as in you’re willing to try again?” he lets go of your hand, causing you to jut out your lower lip not only because of the loss of contact, but also because of how he was squishing your cheeks with his palms.

“Yes,” you try to say, but it comes out incoherent because his tight grip makes it difficult for you to talk properly. Nonetheless, he understood what you said. And upon hearing your response, Jaehyun immediately leans in to give you a peck on the lips, endlessly repeating i love you as he continues peppering you with kisses, hands moving down to your hips. He lifts you up seamlessly, bringing you closer such that you’re now straddling him.

“Jae, stop!” you protest in between giggles, hands shifting in an attempt to pull back because of how ticklish it was, but to no avail because Jaehyun’s hold on you is way too strong.

“Not here,” you didn’t intend for it, but your words come out more as a plea when you feel Jaehyun’s mouth travel down to your jaw, kissing a sensitive spot on your neck, treading dangerously close to your collarbone.

Jaehyun’s kisses stop, and he pulls back momentarily, looking at you with hazy eyes. “Why not, baby? Already forgot the night we went to the drive-in?”

Memories of said night come flooding back.

You’d suggested going to one of those drive-in theatres because it’s on your bucket list, and being the loving boyfriend that he is, Jaehyun agreed. Although the majority of the vehicles there were cars, it didn’t make you feel any less special. In fact, you appreciated that the both of you could easily hide in a corner, it’s as if it was just the two of you in this big and vast world.

It was also the same night that the both of you made out for the first time ever on his motorcycle, not that you’d ever imagined doing that. Movie long forgotten; you kissed each other like there was no tomorrow. That night still remains vivid in your mind, but you don’t know why Jaehyun has to bring it up, because if anything, it makes you crave him even more now.

Unable to hold back any longer, you inch closer to Jaehyun, wrapping your arms around his neck, connecting your lips together. Feeling him smile against your lips, Jaehyun wastes no time in diving back to the kiss, letting out a soft groan when your teeth tugs on his lower lip. “Will never forget it,” you murmur, and Jaehyun takes it as a chance to place the tip of his tongue into your mouth, tilting his head for better access.

“Won’t let you forget even if you wanted to.”

Jaehyun can taste the bitterness of the alcohol in your mouth, but there is nothing sweeter than the feeling of your soft lips working against his, and he’s absolutely sure that he can kiss you for a lifetime. His kisses become deeper, and he pulls you in closer, never ever wanting to let you go again. It is at this very moment that everything feels complete. It doesn’t only feel familiar, it’s also perfect, the way you two fit just right, like the last two pieces of a puzzle that are meant to be next to each other.

Finally pulling away, Jaehyun’s chest rises and falls with rapid breaths, and you try to catch your breath too. A coy smile on his face, he admires how beautiful you look, heart overflowing with warmth when he thinks about how lucky he is to have you by his side.

“Be my forever only?” Jaehyun asks.

Arms still around him, you move closer to rest your chin on his shoulder, taking in the scent of his musky cologne that you missed so much.

“Only if you promise to be mine too."

[luxwritesfanfic]

Don’t Take The Money

Poor reader thought it would end up being a normal Sunday but that must’ve been the mix of bleach and Pinesol fumes getting to their head. Or, the one where reader finds out they have more in common with the other woman in Sherlock’s life than they thought and Sherlock has an aneurysm at the revelation. Thanks for reading!

Sherlock Holmes/Reader

You were just waking up when Sherlock was moving around the bedroom trying to pack his overnight bag. You groaned at the noise of drawers being opened and hangers jostled and rolled over onto your stomach, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Sherlock? You’re leaving?”

He stopped in his tracks back towards the closet and moved to sit on the edge of the bed next to you. He looked down at you with fondness that so many people thought he was incapable of feeling and as always, it made your heart swell. Brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, you relished in his undivided attention.

“A case was brought to my attention. I won’t be gone for long, it’s a few towns over.” He insists, trying to ease your worries before they arise.

Although you’d miss him, it never did anyone any good when Sherlock was bored. He needed something to keep him occupied and you needed time to clean up the drywall shrapnel that constantly covered the couch due to the boredness. It would give you the opportunity to deep clean the flat and the idea wasn’t so bad.

“Is John going too?” Sherlock nodded. You don’t know why you asked, they always worked together.

You turned your head to kiss his palm and sat up to get out of bed. “Okay. I’ll make you breakfast before you guys leave. Nobody likes train food anyway.”

Sherlock moved to help you stand, one of the smiles he reserved just for you gracing his lips. “You take excellent care of me. But you should know, you don’t have to be useful for this to mean something to me.”

He caught you off guard, but he usually did when he read you like a book. Your whole life you’d made yourself useful and you weren’t sure if people liked you for you or for the fact that there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for them. You would do anything and everything for Sherlock and it didn’t have anything to do with being useful, honestly. You loved him dearly and you couldn’t imagine treating him like you felt anything less than that. You couldn’t help but kiss him.

“Omelettes or pancakes?”

—

Your shirt was soaked from washing the dishes and you smelled like a mixture of bleach and formaldehyde from scrubbing the fridge clean and removing the severed head that took up the space where your coffee creamer should be. You had done more loads of laundry than you could count, bleached the bloodstained tub from Sherlock’s latest pig quest, the entire flat smelled like Bahama breeze and you couldn’t be more content. The boys weren’t due back for a day or two so you figured you’d spend some time with Mrs. Hudson when you were done and see if you could meet up with Bucky and Greg for lunch. When you passed the kitchen on your way to your bedroom to change, you decided that this may be the only chance you ever get to clear off the dining room table. Sherlock’s science equipment had overrun it and you figured it wouldn’t hurt if you straightened it up just a bit.

You were in the midst of cleaning out Sherlock’s beakers when you heard the knock on the door. Figuring that John would have posted on his blog that they weren’t currently taking clients because they were on a case, you expected to see Mrs. Hudson and the mop she was letting you borrow. You cracked the door just enough to see who was on the other side and was surprised to see an older woman holding a plate of baked goods who wasn’t Mrs. Hudson.

“Hi... how can I help you?”

The woman in question’s eyes lit up at the sight of you and you weren’t sure why. She smiled and gestured to the platter in her hands. “Is Sherlock Holmes here?”

She must be a client, you thought. Shaking your head, you responded, “No, sorry! The boys off on a case. I’m a friend of theirs. Is there something I can help you with?”

She was looking past you into the flat and you weren’t sure what she was looking for. “Do you mind if I come in? I could really use a cup of tea. And I wanted to drop these cookies I made for Sherlock off.”

You looked at what she was holding and decided it wouldn’t really hurt to let her in, and the cookies looked amazing. Sherlock must have helped her in some way.

“Sure, come on in. Sorry about my clothes... I’ve been doing some spring cleaning.” You stepped aside and let her in. “So, are you a client of his?”

She went to place the platter on the table and you were excited that it was already worth cleaning off the table. “Not quite. I’ve known him his whole life and have loved him even longer.” She turned and smiled at you, seeing through you in a way that seemed eerily close to Sherlock.

You hummed, taking in her answer. Sherlock didn’t talk much about his friends, so you weren’t surprised that you never heard of her.

“Just a minute, I’m gonna change.”

You excused yourself to the bedroom where your phone was charging on the bed. After sending Sherlock a quick text that someone who wasn’t a client was here for him, you dug around in the closet for something clean and more appropriate.

The lady didn’t really seem like a threat and you were sure if it came down to it, you’d be able to protect yourself. You could chuck the skull on the mantle if need be, it was a hard hitter.

When you returned, she was wandering around the flat and looking at all of the pictures of you, Sherlock, and John that you’d recently framed and put out.

“You and Sherlock, you’re close, yes? Tell me about him. It’s been so long.” She was holding a picture that you took of you two in the back of a taxi. Sherlock was on his phone but you thought his hair looked extra good and the golden hour light made him look like an angel so you had to take the picture.

“Yeah, I mean. He’s a seriously great person. A brilliant detective, he’s so smart. He helps all these people for free, and he never complains if they don’t offer him anything. He hates when I tell him he’s a godsend but who else would do that? Um... he’s really funny, probably one of the funniest people I know. You just have to keep up with his humor. It can be kind of dry, but it’s there. He’s one of the most loyal people there is and he’d do anything for the people he cares about.”

It was so easy for you to speak so highly of him. It was like second nature.

“He can be stubborn sometimes, and he can be a little more blunt than he needs to be but... he’s amazing. There’s no other way to explain him, really. He’s got a light that comes from him that rivals the sun and I don’t think it could ever be dimmed.”

She turned back to you and slowly broke out into one of the biggest grins you’d ever seen someone wear. “You really love my son.”

“Your son?” You blinked, unsure of what was going on. You really started to look at the woman in front of you and you realized Sherlock had her eyes. A complete copy and paste. “Oh my God, you’re Sherlock’s mom. I never even introduced myself. I’m Y/N, a friend of-”

“You’re not his friend, dear, and I’m not blind. Old age takes a lot from you, but I could never miss the way my son shines. And you... you see it too.” She walked up to you, still holding the picture frame in her hands. “You love my son in a way that no one else has. Let me tell you all about him.”

—

You couldn’t stop laughing.

Sherlock’s mom had brought over tons of scrapbooks and old pictures that she had acquired over the years, and you had a feeling she knew you were here alone before she even knocked on the door. Mycroft, probably. You spent the whole day getting to know each other and taking a stroll down memory lane with her telling you all about Sherlock as a kid and how it was growing up with two geniuses as sons. She even gave you a copy of one of Sherlock’s high school pictures that you were going to cherish forever. She seemed so happy to have someone to talk to and assured you that spending time with you was the closest she had felt to Sherlock in a long time.

You insisted that she stay and let you make dinner, but she was as equally stubborn as Sherlock and ordered you takeaway as her treat. You tried to argue but she was having none of it. “My God, you scrubbed this whole flat clean. I’m not going to let you dirty your dishes. How does Chinese sound?”

—

Sherlock barreled up the steps with all the force he could muster in his legs and rushed in to see you, perfectly fine and all in one piece, having dinner with his mother.

“Sherlock!” You both exclaimed, his mother full of excitement and you full of worry.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, standing up from your end of the couch. “I thought you were on a case? Is everything okay?”

“I’ve been texting and calling you all day! You’re that daft that you couldn’t text back once all this time?” He’s still out of breath and he can feel his heartbeat in his ears. His tone is exasperated and you could hear the mix of anxiety and relief in his voice as he’d yet to acknowledge his mother. She seemed perfectly content to sit back and watch the situation unfold, amusement at her son’s unusual outburst gracing her features.

“My phone was dead! And then I put it on the charger and I forgot about it once your mom came, by the way!” You went to the bedroom and retrieved your phone to find a dozen missed texts and calls.

Probably just a client. SH

11:07 AM

Are you sure it’s not a client? SH

11:43 AM

Are they still there? SH

1:00 PM

Missed Call

1:17 PM

Missed Call

2:03 PM

Call me back. SH

3:26 PM

Y/N, I’m on a case. Call me back. SH

3:44 PM

Missed Call

4:13 PM

Is everything alright? SH

4:52 PM

Missed Call

5:08 PM

Missed Call

5:10 PM

Missed Call

5:12 PM

I’m boarding the train now and I’ll be there soon. Don’t worry. SH

5:21 PM

Sherlock followed after you, still without ever acknowledging his mother, and shut the door after himself. With his palms braced against the wooden door, he tried to ease the tension out of his bones through a deep breath as he watched you check your phone. He wasn’t worried about the case at all. It was mostly solved and what little was left John could do with ease. He felt the weight of the missed calls in his stomach like lead and the three hour train ride that he couldn’t curse to defy time any quicker. He had plenty of enemies and you had virtually none, so there would be no reason to think you’d hesitate to assist anyone who came to his door, especially if it was in the name of helping him. He thought he’d walk into a crime scene and he couldn’t shake those images out of his head.

You got up from the bed and walked over to him, reaching to wrap one arm around his neck and to take his hand in yours in the other. You pressed a kiss to his jaw, and then to his chin, over his eyelids, his nose, and then lastly you met his lips, murmuring “I’m sorry” in between every kiss. He didn’t usually voice it, but you had known him long enough to know when he was upset. He relaxed into your touch as he always did and you pulled away from him long enough to pull on the ends of his scarf. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Let me help. We got takeaway for your mom and I but we can share mine. I got what you like anyway.”

He let you pull his scarf and jacket off and you were delighted to see he wasn’t really mad with you. You hang his jacket on the closet door and by the time you turn back to face him, he’s already making his way back out to the living room. Following after him, you see his mother gesturing him to come over.

“What are you doing here? I thought I told Mycroft to tell you I was away on business.” He was messing with the cuffs on his sleeves but his question was directed at his mother with unmistakable intent. She tsked at him, and you began to see even more similarities in their mannerisms.

“That’s no way to talk to your mother, William. I was spending some time with your darling partner here and I don’t even get a kiss or a hug?” She began gathering her belongings and threw her purse over her shoulder. You weren’t happy to see her go.

You did peak up at the name. “William? Your name is William?”

Sherlock groaned, ignoring you completely. You swore you could see a blush dusting his cheeks. In no time he was at the door, holding it open for his mother. “It’s getting rather late, don’t you agree? Father must be wondering where you are. Be sure to pay Mycroft a visit the next time you’re in town. I assure you, he always has time for family.”

She turned to you and blew you a kiss. “I had a great time with you today, I hope you’ll manage to bring Sherlock home more.”

Walking over to Sherlock, she paused to kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear, “I know you know what you could lose here. So be sure you don’t, Sherlock.”

Before she totally stepped out of the flat, she turned around one last time. “Promise me you’ll come home soon. Your father and I miss you dearly.”

“I heard you the first ten times. Goodnight and safe travels, mother.” Sherlock shut the door before his mother could get another word and your shoulders slumped.

“Hey, that was your mom! She’s really nice. We had a good day.” You started to clean up the coffee table and take the dishes into the kitchen. You couldn’t understand Sherlock’s relationship with his family but you were sure there was a lot of things you didn’t know. Still, it was nice to have a chance to bond with your (maybe one day) future family. It was then that you realized that Sherlock never said anything when his mother mentioned you being his partner. You two never really officially defined what you were, so to see him not object to an actual title made you feel all warm inside.

“No, you had a good day. I was trying to work a case and clear a man’s name while trying to figure out if I’d come home to you kidnapped or dead.” Sherlock rolled his eyes, watching you from the doorway. You looked back at him as you dropped the dishes into the sink and let out a sigh. You hated the fact that you let him down.

“I have to go back tomorrow to tie some loose ends with John. If you come with me, I have a feeling I’ll get over it a lot quicker.” His voice was quiet but full of mirth. He won’t hold this over your head, and you both know this, but if it makes him feel better you’ll follow him. You’d follow him to the ends of the Earth and off the edge if he lead you.

Sherlock pushed himself off of the doorway and walked towards the bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he went.

“So, you’re staying home tonight?” You swung around the  kitchen doorway and called out to the hall. You hadn’t even thought about Sherlock having to go back, and you couldn’t help but be excited that he would be there for you to fall asleep next to tonight. 

“You didn’t expect me to make the trip back at this hour, did you? Besides, I sleep better with you and it’s obvious that I don’t focus well if you’re not around, Which is why I need you to come with me tomorrow. It seems you owe me, anyway.” Sherlock takes a step back so you can see him in the bedroom doorway, and you can feel your heart in your throat.

He’s so beautiful, you think, all alabaster skin and lean muscle. He’s pulling a t-shirt over his head and you wonder if you could manifest a photographic memory long enough to commit him to memory. Of course he notices you staring, and you almost want to mention all the times you catch him staring at you but he changes the subject and opens the blankets for you and you shut up and follow him. You follow him and you love him and you wake up in the morning at the crack of dawn to run downstairs and order coffee from the shop next door before your train leaves, being sure to get them to write “William” on the cup. Sherlock doesn’t find this funny at all, but he still lets you fall asleep on his arm on the train ride there and doesn’t complain when his arm falls asleep right along with you.

He thinks that if this is the life his mother wished for him as a child, that would be one thing he could take off of his list of things she eventually needs to answer for. Because mothers know best, and when it came to you, she could have never been more right.

[hd-wireless]

🎶 HD Wireless 2021 Reveals! 🎶

TAKE A BOW, CREATORS!! 

The day has finally come, and we can’t wait for everyone to see who created all the wonderful Wireless works that we had the privilege to present to you this year!!

Before we do that, the results of our Guessing Game! The winner, with 43 correct guesses (which gave her 260 points - please don’t question our scoring system) was @sweet-s0rr0w!! Kudos to your super-sleuthing and powers of recognition!!

All the wonderful authors, artists and podficcers who took part this year can be found below the cut. As the mods, we want to extend our thanks to every single talented one of them. Please show them all your love and appreciation!!

🎶 H/D Wireless Animatic and Fic 🎶

📻 rather a lover than a fighter [T, 15k] ✒️ Author and Artist: @parkkate & aceveria / @aceveria-art

🎵 Summary: When Harry loses his voice and his magic, it’s up to Healer Draco to save the day.

🎶 H/D Wireless Art 🎶

📻 The Road to Somewhere [T] 🖌️ Artist: @rainsoakedhello 🎵 Art medium: Digital Art

🎵 Summary: In the end, all roads lead home.

📻 Don't care what they say (I would be stupid to be not on it) [Gen] 🖌️ Artist: @digthewriter 🎵 Art medium: Digital. Photoshop.

🎵 Summary: Harry finally has a chance with Draco and he's not gonna let it go.

📻 Start Over Again [Gen] 🖌️ Artist: milkandhoney / @fictional 🎵 Art medium: Digital Art

🎵 Summary: Do you feel like a chainstore? Or in which one is Graham Coxon and one is Damon Albarn.

📻 Down for What You Want [Teen] 🖌️ Artist: @sugareey 🎵 Art medium: Digital

🎵 Summary: After the war, finding refuge in the clubs of Muggle London is easier than dealing with the shambles of the wizarding world. When Harry and Draco keep running into each other at Apollo's every Saturday night though, they follow their gut instincts to get on the dance floor and discover something they both have been craving for a long time.

📻 What do I do? With a Love That Won’t Sit Still [Gen] 🖌️ Artist: @cambiodipolvere 🎵 Art medium: traditional (graphite)

🎵 Summary: Italian Greyhounds are small and fucked up, but Draco is a big fuck up and that requires scaling.

🎶 H/D Wireless Art and Fic 🎶

📻 A Halo of Fairy Orbs [E, 20.6k] 🖌️✒️ Author and Artist: vivi1138 / @penguinanimagus & Fae_vorite / @faevorite-main-blog 🎵 Art medium: digital art

🎵 Summary: Draco Malfoy has been dead for fifteen years, but the Black Family tapestry doesn’t agree. Upon returning from long years abroad, Harry discovers that his old rival might still be alive, and his revived obsession leads him to Malfoy Manor. There’s a mystery to solve, and Harry is chasing a thrill he hasn’t felt since sixth year. He needs to know.

📻 Oh, Sinnerman [E, 40k] 🖌️✒️ Author and Artist: @lou-isfake and @babooshkart 🎵 Art medium: digital

🎵 Summary: “I’m serious, Potter,” Malfoy said quietly. “That was some real bad luck you had, being there last night. They will come after you, and they will kill you—after torturing you for information on my whereabouts.” He pocketed Harry’s wand, but held on to his knife, twirling it between his fingers. Harry was distracted by its movement, the reflections of the bright, dawning sun on polished silver. “I’m not happy about it, either, but you’re stuck with me for the foreseeable future.” He watched Malfoy’s face for a long time, in a staring contest he wasn’t sure he’d signed up for. Stuck with Malfoy, for the foreseeable future, on the run from a massive crime syndicate that had infiltrated the Ministry and was out for their blood. It was all very familiar, except for the Malfoy part.  

📻 The Crane Lord of Gringotts [E, 31.1k] 🖌️✒️ Author and Artist: @vukovich and @crazybutgood 🎵 Art medium: Origami, photography

🎵 Summary: Harry is fine. Being an Auror is fine. Living with Ginny is fine. It's all fine. But it used to be a lot better.

📻 The World Is A Violent Sky [E, 60k] 🖌️✒️ Author/Artist: writingsbydestiny / @starlitsilvereyes 🎵 Art medium: Digital Art

🎵 Summary: Harry Potter wants to die; Draco Malfoy wants to live — a story of life and death, everything in between and beyond — in the form of scatters of love and hurt like freckles of stars forming into constellations. — Alternative Summary (And Significantly Less Poetic): Four years after the war, Harry remains grief-stricken. In an attempt to discover the parts of him that haven’t died in the Forbidden Forest, he drops off the face of Scotland to travel the world by himself. Along the way, he finds his old enemy, Draco Malfoy, in a Muggle country, looking positively dashing even with a slash of scar decorating his face. As always, Harry’s curiosity leads him to (un)fortunate places.

📻 The Stars Have Courage [M, 85k] 🖌️✒️ Author/Artist: @fantalf 🎵  Art medium: Digital painting

🎵 Summary: Draco can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t move. He can’t hear anything besides the buzzing in his ears. The walls are closing in. The world becomes smaller, narrowing itself to the pain in his chest, and it becomes the only thing that makes sense. He tries to cry. Maybe he is crying, but there are no tears anymore. Luna’s words echo endlessly in his brain. Harry doesn’t remember. Harry doesn’t love Draco. Repeating ceaselessly. Infinite, Harry used to say. No. No. No. Draco can’t lose him again. But he doesn’t know who you are now. He doesn’t love you. He hates you. You are no one. His world turns into an overwhelming pain. And that pain is all that he is. — Draco waited five long years to watch his husband wake up from a coma. He's not ready to meet a Harry with no memory of anything that happened after he died at The Battle of Hogwarts, twelve years ago.

🎶 H/D Wireless Fic Collab 🎶

📻 'Til Your World Burns [E, 25.3k] ✒️ 🖋️Authors: @ladderofyears and @iero0

🎵 Summary: Draco Malfoy is raped and watches as his world falls apart. Harry Potter is the quiet, unassuming wizard who finally listens to him.

🎶 H/D Wireless Fic 🎶

📻 Inside These Walls [M, 5.6k] 🖋️ Author: @jackvbriefs

🎵 Summary: The year before Draco moves to Los Angeles, Harry Potter disappears. Draco doesn't mean to find him. He's just doing his job.

📻 Drive a Little Slower [Gen, 1.6k] 🖋️ Author: bluefay / @thesleepiesthufflepuff

🎵 Summary: He silently willed Harry to drive a little slower. To let him pretend a little longer.

📻 Two Zinnias and the Scent of Lemon [T, 16k] 🖋️ Author: thestarryknight / @the-starryknight

🎵 Summary: The Ministry didn’t turn bad overnight. Harry didn’t suddenly turn rogue either. Between covert Legilimency links and Polyjuice disguises and running and running and running, Draco has forgotten what it is like to have a safe harbor that isn’t a person. If there’s an art to fighting back, then they’ll find it hand in hand.

📻 Two Starts, One Finish [E, 5.5k] 🖋️ Author: @lqtraintracks

🎵 Summary: I feel him before I see him. Nobody stands this close to me while I’m playing, and I’m about to turn to tell him so when he says, “You’re a tough bloke to track down,” and then leans against my baby grand.

📻 Never Gonna Give You Up [E, 5k] 🖋️ Author: InnerLilith

🎵 Summary: Five times Harry rickrolls Draco, and one time Draco gets him back.

📻 Alone Together [T, 3k] 🖋️ Author: @iero0

🎵 Summary: He felt like a spectre, roaming the treeless grounds, the deserted streets of Hogsmeade. It was only the train station—of course it was, Harry thinks—that harboured another sleepless soul that night. They were found as though they had been looking for one another; freezing to the ground at the sight of an unmistakable silhouette in the distance, before wordlessly meeting on the platform. They stood there, side by side, faces to the sky.

📻 Nothing Left to Burn [E, 5,1] 🖋️ Author: skeptique / @skeptiquewrites​

🎵 Summary: Over ten years after their fling crashed and burned, Harry runs into Draco and finds embers still burning bright. Sometimes your ex-lover is (metaphorically) dead. And sometimes it's summertime in Montreal and the past won't let go.

📻 The Isle of Discussion [E, 21.6k] 🖋️ Author: @shealwaysreads

🎵 Summary: Harry and Draco arrive at the shores of Loch Leven to record the magical history of the land. They’re friends now, but up there in the Highlands, amidst the trees and sky and that wild expanse of water their own past is more present than ever; a gap they still can’t bridge. Magic illuminates the truth, but it is Harry and Draco who have to speak it. Happily, it turns out that honesty is, in fact, the best policy.

📻 (You Should Have Been My) High School Lover [T, 3.9k] 🖋️ Authort: @aprofessionalprotagonist

🎵 Summary: After years of carefully avoiding running into Harry Potter, Pansy tricks Draco into attending a party at Grimmauld Place. How is he supposed to deal with a very attractive Potter trying to talk to him?

📻 Both Hands [E, 10.4] 🖋️ Author: @sweet-s0rr0w

🎵 Summary: It’s been over a decade since Draco packed up his belongings and left, and Harry’s doing just fine. Really, he is. So when he spots the For Sale sign outside their old flat, he doesn’t think twice about arranging a viewing. Curiosity is only natural, right? And what harm can come from a quick trip down memory lane?

📻 His favourite piece of art [E, 1.3k] 🖋️ Author: @gnarf

🎵 Summary: Six years after Malfoy had left, Harry suddenly spotted him on the dancefloor of a Muggle club in London. He couldn't let this opportunity slip…

📻 I'll Try to Keep the Walls From Falling Down [M, 14.9k] 🖋️ Author: @drarrelie

🎵 Summary: It’s OK. Love is only meant for some; Harry knows that. Besides, he wouldn’t want to risk this new, amazing friendship he has going on with Draco for anything in the world. Keeping his walls from falling down is the least he can do.

📻 Learn to Fly [T, 11k] 🖋️ Author: @janieohio

🎵 Summary: Harry’s suffocating under all the expectations of the wizarding world, but he’s fascinated at Malfoy’s sudden ability to flaunt his true self to whoever cares to watch. And Harry? He might like to do something more than watch if he can ever get up the nerve.

📻 Restless Dreams (Stay With Me) [T, 5.5k] 🖋️ Author: wanderingeyre

🎵 Summary: At first, Draco thinks the common room is empty, but then he sees Potter sitting on the floor, back to the wall on the far side of the fireplace. His head is thrown back, exposing the brown column of his throat. The curl of his hair looks soft in the firelight. Potter’s glasses are off and there are tracks where tears have wet his cheeks. He looks naked in a way that stabs at Draco, right between the ribs where everything is already bruised.

📻 Letters From Home [T, 1.1k] 🖋️ Author: @articcat621

 🎵 Summary: Writing to each other is all that's getting them through this war.

📻 so lie to me tonight [T, 5.3k] 🖋️ Author: M0stlyVoid / @bonesliketambourines

🎵 Summary: Ginny thought it would be different, after.

📻 Mortal Frame [M, 6.6k] 🖋️ Author: tackytiger / @tackytigerfic

🎵 Summary: Draco’s on a mission, and this time it's personal. But it's not easy to track down something that no one wants to talk about, especially when Harry Potter keeps popping up everywhere Draco goes. Though at least he’s on Draco’s side this time, and if he happens to be useful, and kind, and great in bed—well, Draco’s not exactly complaining. The story of three pubs, one Horcrux, four overpriced sandwiches, and two damaged men just trying to make sure that Bellatrix Lestrange stays dead.

📻 Prologue [T, 4.5k] 🖋️ Author: adavison / @aedwritesfic

🎵 Summary: Ten years after the war, Harry stumbles across Malfoy in a Muggle club. What could have been an awkward encounter might just be a new beginning.

📻 A Care To Fill The Vessel Of Your Heart [M, 2.5k] 🖋️ Author: @onbeinganangel

🎵 Summary: Draco doesn’t care for atonement. Why should he? Forgetting is easier than forgiving. Or it would be, if fate just left him to his own devices. Fate, as per usual, has its own plans.

📻 Like a Dream I Can Reach (but not quite hold) [M, 19.4k] 🖋️ Author: Cassiara / @cassiaratheslytherpuff

🎵 Summary: Harry spends his life waiting for something he isn’t entirely sure he wants, and looking for something he doesn’t know exists. Everything feels ill-fitting until Draco Malfoy enters his life and shows Harry he doesn’t have to want the expected things, and Harry learns happiness doesn't have to look a certain way.

📻 Sun and Rain [M, 4.7k]

🖋️ Author: @isamijoo 

🎵 Summary: Draco Malfoy thinks that being in a relationship with Harry Potter is anything but easy, but then again, what's the sun without the rain?

📻 In Pursuit of Lost Marbles [T, 22k] 🖋️ Author:  Theartfulldodger / @graymatters 

🎵 Summary: Every night after work, Healer Malfoy follows the same routine, beginning with a familiar flight of stairs that leads to the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo's. With an air of professionalism, he introduces himself to Harry, his husband of seven years, when a memory curse makes Harry look at him like a stranger. He tries not to flinch when Harry calls him sir, but he smiles when bits of the old Harry emerge. Eventually, Draco leads Harry to the Pensieve where he shows him pieces of the life they've built together, what Harry will come home to, one day, when this is all over. Then, Draco waits. He waits, and he hopes.

📻 Requiem [T, 1.8k] 🖋️ Author: EvAEleanor / @evaeleanor

🎵 Summary: Requiem — A song of mourning composed or performed as a memorial to a dead person.

📻 Changes With The Moon [Gen, 1.6k] 🖋️ Author: @missdrarrydawn

🎵 Summary: Draco takes a stroll to try to settle his turbulent thoughts, plagued by who he was, who he is and who he could be. A friend offers him a whole new world and Draco struggles with the idea, for there is too much at stake, it isn't worth it. Or—is it?

📻 Chasing Dragons [E, 89.9k] 🖋️ Author: The_Sinking_Ship / @the-sinking-ship

🎵 Summary: Draco can think of only one way to outclass his pleat-front-khaki-wearing politician ex, and that’s by making headlines with an obvious upgrade. And who better to upstage the cheating bastard than the Saviour of the World, Harry Potter himself? Sure, Potter is a little rough around the edges in ripped jeans, a rumpled tartan shirt, and a permanent scowl. Draco reckons a haircut and a shave wouldn’t hurt, either. But Potter is also in need of a Healer willing to keep his secrets, and Draco is just the man for the job. It’s a perfectly reasonable exchange. They need only attend a couple parties arm-in-arm, smile nicely for the paparazzi, and tolerate each other long enough to convince everyone they’re smitten. In return, Draco will keep Potter alive and in one piece. But it isn’t long before Draco realises he might be in over his head, because Potter is ten tonnes of trouble packed into a leather jacket, and seems keen on hurtling himself towards death on the back of a flying motorbike. And that says nothing of Potter’s penchant for fire-breathing beasts and things that bite. Ah well, at least they’ll have some fun while it lasts. After all, Draco always did like a bit of danger.

📻 Drive, Draco [M, 2.4k] 🖋️ Author: Erebeus / @erebeus-roxy

🎵 Summary: got my driver’s license today, but you're not around to see. Can't drive past the places we used to go to 'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe

📻 Fire [E, 10k] 🖋️ Author: GallifreyisBurning / @gallifrey1sburning

🎵 Summary: Draco Malfoy has never had trouble getting boyfriends. The problem is getting one that doesn’t leave him feeling cold after the first few months. He’s looking for something specific: passion, excitement, someone to keep him on his toes. He just doesn’t know how to go about finding it. After kicking his latest boyfriend to the curb, Draco’s at a loss for what to do next, until it occurs to him that a relationship with his fiery (and hot) Gryffindor colleague might not burn out so quickly—if he can just convince Harry to try it.

📻 Into the Unknown [M, 4.5k] 🖋️ Author: @drarrelie

🎵 Summary: It’s been echoing within him for months, like an annoying song that gets stuck in your head and refuses to let go. A nagging feeling in his core, telling him to say something, to do something, to go somewhere. Last night it finally happened. He did it. And it felt good; right. “I can’t be sure.” Four words, easy as that. It had been almost impossible to smother the sudden burst of joy rushing through him as that deep-seated urge rejoiced his unexpected act of rebellion. You’d think the Dark Lord’s punishment would’ve taken the exhilaration out of him, but no. Here he is, countless Crucios later, beaten and bruised, and never has the voice sounded this clear. He’s said something. He’s done something. And now he just has to go somewhere. He has no idea where, but he’s certain it will come to him. All he has to do is get out of here, then trust magic to do the rest.

📻 Home is What We Make of It [M, 20.3k] 🖋️ Author: @monsieur-hadrien

🎵 Summary: "There was a blistering draft from the child’s bedroom on the opposite side of the hallway. The door’s handle was icy to the touch as she wrapped her hand around the metal. Unlike the rest of the house, the door gave her resistance in her effort to open it. Unlike the rest of the house, when she opened the door, she couldn’t imagine anyone ever living there. Unlike the rest of the house, there was neither love nor warmth nor any semblance of life that seeped from the rest of the house’s walls. It was cold and hard and chilled her to her bones. She shivered. However, her sense of dread was not just from the cold. Perhaps it was the gaping hole in the wall." Harry and Draco want to start a family, but time loves parallels.

📻 Move, move [M, 9k] 🖋️ Author: @maesterchill

🎵 Summary: She grabbed Harry’s hand, slipping something small into it and pressing his fingers around it. “Dilectio. It’ll cheer you up. Make you feel like dancing.” Harry gaped at her. Drugs. Ginny’s fucking giving me drugs? At Stasis nightclub Ginny does indeed give Harry drugs. But it's all good: Malfoy looks after Harry, and Harry grapples with newfound enlightenments, not to mention a newfound fascination with all things Malfoy—one which persists, even when he finds out what Malfoy's up to.

📻 Euphoria [E, 66k] 🖋️ Author: @iero0

🎵 Summary: Driven by trauma, Harry cuts ties with friends and family. From crowded nightclubs and enthralling live shows, Harry finds himself stumbling into a superficial world where he's lonelier than ever. When even the constant blithe of substance-induced highs can't prevent things from becoming what he ran away from, Draco Malfoy finds Harry. Draco, who’s wearing Muggle jeans and who’s listening to Muggle music and who suggests having a nice little chat on mephedrone. And whose nose crumples beautifully when he laughs. Or: A story about Harry trying to cope with the help of drugs until he finds a new addiction. Draco likes to mend things.

📻 Your House [E, 2.9k] 🖋️ Author: @tontonguetonks

🎵 Summary: Draco tries to serve Harry divorce papers, but Harry isn't home.

📻 Misery Loves Company [E, 22.9k] 🖋️ Author: vivi1138 / @penguinanimagus

🎵 Summary: Stuck in his own head, misunderstood and lonely, Harry would love nothing more than to stay hidden in Grimmauld Place until the end of time. Malfoy won’t let him, and that's just what Harry needs.

📻 You Sexy Thing [E, 10.6k] 🖋️ Author: shortie990

🎵 Summary: As Harry began to tap his foot along to the music, the lights flashed like lightning in the middle of a summer storm, and his eye went straight to the middle of the dance floor. His eyes zoomed in on Draco. The blond looked striking as he moved his slender hips to the soulful beat. Harry watched, captivated as he pressed himself up to Pansy and began to sing to the song.

📻 A Love Story of Less-Than-Epic Proportions [E, 39k] 🖋️ Author: InnerLilith

🎵 Summary: Harry and Draco are just friends. Sure, they work together, and live together, and go to gigs together, and do pretty much everything else together—so what? That’s just what friends do. And Harry has no interest in messing with their friendship. He certainly doesn’t need everyone else constantly meddling, pestering them to just get on with it and get together already. He’s having a hard enough time as it is, trying to come to terms with the fact that he probably isn’t ever going to find love. But who needs love, anyways, when you’ve got a best friend?

📻 Cup of tea, Love? [E, 15.1k] 🖋️ Author: shushu_yaoi_lj / @orange-peony 

🎵 Summary: Things between them are easy, so much easier than Harry expected. The problem is the outside world, which grows increasingly and ridiculously difficult. “We could leave,” Draco suggests. Harry has always wanted to travel.

📻 holemate [E, 18.9k] 🖋️ Author:  @vukovich

🎵 Summary: 'Cause I'm sick of losing soulmates So where do we begin? I can finally see you're as fucked up as me So how do we win?

📻 Home is Wherever I’m With You [Gen, 2.6k] 🖋️ Author: persephoneapple

🎵 Summary: Harry plans on proposing to Draco tonight, but it takes a Prophet article and a conversation between Draco and Pansy to realise how much Draco means to him.

📻 When the remembering is done [E, 24.8k] 🖋️ Author: Sassy3 / @sassy-sassy3

🎵 Summary: “–and we’ll make sure that you can stay at home as long as possible before it will be too hard to manage,” Potter finished. Draco could only blink, trying to make sense of the words he had heard before and after he zoned out. He cleared his throat before speaking. “I’m sorry, Potter. Why wouldn’t she be able to live at home?” Draco Malfoy leads a quiet life. Sure, he doesn’t really like his job, and he never imagined he’d have to move back in with his parents at the manor, but at least he has his lovely son Scorpius to dote on. The only problem is that it gets… a bit lonely. But when his mother starts behaving strange and forgetful, he finds himself in need of help from the one person he never reconciled with after the war.

📻 If you smile at me again, I may do something stupid [M, 6.9k] 🖋️ Author: @emilattes

🎵 Summary: Draco made his peace with Harry Potter and their failed relationship two years ago. He's happy with his new boyfriend, but when Harry becomes the man Draco needed him to be, he finds it's much harder to ignore their history.

📻 smoke break [E, 4.3k] 🖋️ Author: saltwatergarden / @talkingtravesties

🎵 Summary: The first few times, they hovered a bit; Draco offered wine and they sat there and sipped and made small talk, until finally Potter would snap and say, “this is stupid,” and reach out to pull Draco into a kiss. After a while, they fell into a rhythm. Sometimes Potter would be in a rush, and he’d just throw himself at Draco the second he was through the door. Other times, he seemed intent on torturing Draco with his slow and teasing kisses. Potter rarely stayed the night, typically Flooing home after they were done, and they never went out, or, for that matter, met at Potter’s place. Draco was very aware of what he was to Potter—a convenience—and despite his pride, he accepted it, because he knew it was the most he was ever going to get from Potter, and far more than he deserved.

📻 4th Day of the New Show [M, 6.2k] 🖋️ Author: @meandminniemcg

🎵 Summary: Lucius, freshly released from Azkaban, shows up at Draco's show. And Harry has been nervous all day. How does Draco handle the situation?

📻 I Want More? [E, 10.7k] 🖋️ Author: @drarryismymuse

🎵 Summary: Draco had successfully avoided British wizarding society for eight years, until necessity drove him to attend a swanky Ministry event. A chance encounter at that event sparks a passionate affair that just might change the course of Draco’s entire life.

📻 Until It All Comes Undone [E, 38.5k] 🖋️ Author: @mystickitten42 

🎵 Summary: Following his confrontation with Voldemort, Harry returns from King’s Cross Station completely changed. He wakes up at Privet Drive with no memory of his past, the war or magic. Petunia, widowed and suffering from empty nest syndrome, is only too happy to turn Harry into Dudley 2.0. But something’s not quite right. Plagued by recurring nightmares, Harry can’t help but feel something is missing. A bottle of his cousin’s LSD helps him to forget his worries… Magic may not be real, but the hallucinations and the hot blond he meets all feel pretty magical to Harry. Having turned his back on his family, Draco is determined to start over and do the right thing. But he’s never made good decisions when it comes to Harry Potter. When Potter—presumed dead, but very much alive—unexpectedly returns, Draco will do anything for a second chance. Even if it means pretending not to know who he is…

📻 When the Day Met the Night [M, 5.7k] 🖋️ Author: Albuss

🎵 Summary: When the day met the night, all was golden in the sky. In the middle of summer. The Battle of Hogwarts is through, and Harry, somehow, isn't. Draco isn't either. In rebellion against all they have endured, the two embark on a summer of adventure, seeking an ember of hope in the darkness. What they find is unforgettable.

📻 Born to Drown [M, 3.2k] 🖋️ Author: @floydig

🎵 Summary: Draco drives a Knight Bus in the slums of Paris. Sometimes his passengers remind him of Harry. But Harry left years ago. Now, Harry is married to Ginny, and Draco drives a bus. You laugh. “Sorry, I don't know why I’m laughing. It’s really not funny—your dad being dead and shrivelled.” “Fuck off.” I turn to face you. Your eyes are red, your pupils almost blown. Your skin is grey-tinged and sallow, and you're not the one who’s dead. “Merlin, Potter,” I say, hoarse. “How much bloody Dreamless did you shoot up this time?” “Enough for me to live.” You grin wide. “You want me to be alive, don’t you?” Your raw-bitten lips, your chipped teeth, your fucking mouth. I hate all of them, but really I don’t.

📻 Stop And Stare [T, 36.5k] 🖋️ Author: devilishcries

🎵 Summary: After surviving your everyday war-torn childhood, Harry had found a constant rhythm to his life. The thing is, he didn't quite like it. It was repetitive, dull, and he badly wanted to switch it up. So, when he stumbled upon Draco Malfoy on the verge of committing arson in a muggle library, he proposed a deal neither could refuse. (Well, Malfoy was desperately trying to refuse it. But that wasn't the point!) What he failed to factor in was how pretty Malfoy's hands were. One thing led to another, and suddenly, he was obsessed with the idea of holding them.

📻 Wicked Game [E, 20.9k] 🖋️ Author: @cassiopeiasshadow

🎵 Summary: Harry and Draco fall into a spring that allows them to enter into each other’s dreams - but Harry doesn’t quite understand what’s happening, not at first. Why does he keep seeing Draco having kinky sex with a dream version of Harry? And furthermore, why does he like it? Morpheus’ tail twitched irritably. “I warned you away from the poppies. The blame lies with you.” “Me? Potter’s to blame for this, he’s the one who dragged me out to this miserable -” “You would do well not to insult the home of those whom you ask for help,” said Morpheus coolly, though Harry saw a bit of detached amusement in his expression. Malfoy had no self awareness. It’s adorable how stupid he is, Harry thought, and then caught himself thinking Malfoy was adorable and became deeply troubled. “I’m…” Malfoy closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “Sorry. Please - I need advice. I can’t keep him out of my dreams.”

📻 Dedication and Desperation [T, 6.1k] 🖋️ Author: meditationsinemergencies / @meditationswrites

🎵 Summary: Diagnosed with a rare and serious illness, Draco has mostly given up until Harry comes to visit.

📻 Famous [E, 23.9k] 🖋️ Author: fwooshy / @fw00shy

🎵 Summary: It's a couple of years after the war, and Harry's bored of models now, the same way he's bored of Ron's constant nagging, bored of his Weasley monogram knitwear, bored of the same fucking grin that greets him when he hands his fire-truck red Bugatti over to the valet every night. He wants to find—well, he isn't sure what he wants. Anything but models. Harry is in the mood for...messy. And Draco Malfoy's looking like a walking disaster in the making.

📻 stitched and sewn [E, 7.9k] 🖋️ Author: @wheezykat

🎵 Summary: Harry shudders, fingertips pulsing against Draco’s thighs. He can feel the sharp, metal edge of Harry’s wedding band digging into his flesh, knows he’ll have a bruise there in the morning, a small imperfection that only he’d be able to see. It’s one of the only marks he’ll vanish, not wanting to think about its implications; the rest he’ll keep for himself. Slowly, Harry relaxes, shoulders sinking, breaths changing their cadence to a new tempo. Resigned, surrendered to this dance they do.

📻 Watch the Castles Burn [E, 21.3k] 🖋️ Author: @moonflower-rose

🎵 Summary: Draco Malfoy knows better than to get involved with Harry Potter. If only someone would have reminded him of that six months sooner, then maybe he wouldn't be in quite such a large mess.

🎶 H/D Wireless Podfic 🎶

📻 Modern Love [E, 61k, 5h29m] 🎙️ Podficcer: @lastontheboat 🖋️ Author: tackytiger

🎵 tackytiger’s original summary: Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is. And it really doesn’t seem fair that Draco Malfoy is back in Harry’s life, all of a sudden, and even though he’s wandless, and living with Muggles, and making his mother cry with his lifestyle choices, he’s happy. So what’s he doing right, that Harry isn’t? Because things don’t really change, do they? And if Harry can’t be happy, he’ll settle for a good night’s sleep, some posh antiques, and the opportunity to find out what Malfoy has been up to for all these years. And that’s what starts it all.

📻 [Podfic] How Can I Live Without You? [Gen, 2.2k, 15min 29sec] 🎙️ Podficcer: Static_Whisper 🖋️ Author: ununquadius

🎵 ununquadius’ original summary: After Draco's death, Harry wonders how can he live without the one he loves when he's so far away.

📻 [Podfic] Keep Holding On [M, 33.3k, 3hrs 37min] 🎙️ Podficcer: @thunder-of-dragons 🖋️ Author: gnarf

🎵 gnarf’s original summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry and Draco both fall into their own battles with their mental states. Draco is sent to Azkaban, and Harry turns to drinking, hoping to forget. Months later, Harry visits St Mungo’s new ward on the request of a friend, only to find Draco in a deep vegetative state. Not willing to give him up, Harry stays by his side, while simultaneously dealing with the Ministry's newest grand idea to make everything worse. Making new allies, and losing old ones along the way, will hopefully be worth it in the end.

📻 [Podfic] Kill, Fuck, Marry [E, 12.7k, 1:27:55] 🎙️ Podficcer: @timothysboxers  🖋️ Author: lettersbyelise 

🎵 lettersbyelise’s original summary: Malfoy leans toward him with a baleful look. “I do believe Pansy Parkinson, my best friend, paid you to spend the evening with me. It’s my birthday, Potter. So you’re going to get off your Gryffindor arse, and you’re going to dance with me. I want to dance. I want to win. I want that bloody trophy on my shelf before the end of the night.” Harry and Draco unexpectedly meet again on Draco’s birthday, years after their last encounter.

📻 [Podfic] You Still Look Like a Movie / You Still Sound Like a Song [T, 3.2k, 19:43 min] 🎙️ Podficcer: bluedreaming / @blue--dreaming 🖋️ Author: shilo1364

🎵 shilo1364’s original summary: Harry Potter doesn't want to attend his ten-year Hogwarts Reunion Ball. He doesn't want to dance. And he *definitely* doesn't want to remember his former lover, Draco Malfoy. Of course, his life has never really been dictated by what he wants.

[starlessea]

Here Comes the Sun: XII. Highway To Hell (Daryl Dixon/Reader)

Series Masterlist: Here Comes the Sun

Summary: Daryl Dixon scares the hell out of you climbing out of that damn creek. It takes hauling his ass halfway across Georgia and taking a bullet for him to realise that you're not half bad. He slowly starts to come around, despite grumbling about how much he doesn't like your singing, or that you can't use a gun for shit - and don't get him started on that ugly yellow tent of yours. It takes him a while before he starts to see for himself that he's found a best friend for life, and that he doesn't actually mind the colour yellow that much, after all.

Words: 7169

Chapter Warnings: Language, Violence.

You held a hand up over your shoulder and crouched down near the door, signalling for Carol to do the same behind you. Your gun was pressed snug between your palms, and your knife hung from your belt in case you needed it. Though, from the looks of the place it seemed pretty secure - if the lock you'd just busted open was anything to go by. The two of you were scavenging and had spotted a small general store, deciding to check it out before heading back to the cabin. The group hadn't eaten anything substantial in days, save for the things Daryl had been hunting. Even then, the harsh winter months made it harder for him to pick up tracks when most animals had better shelter than you all did.

It had been a number of weeks since the farm was overrun, but it almost felt like yesterday. The temperature had dropped to freezing seemingly overnight, making your fortunes that much more cruel. Even now, your breath formed clouds of smoke before your eyes, and the cold felt like it had infiltrated your bones at some point and never left. The tips of your fingers stung as they glowed red, exposed through your fingerless gloves, and you were certain that your nose matched, too. Carol's did, that's for sure.

You gave her a quick nod before kicking in the door harshly with your boot, raising your gun as you entered. The inside was bigger than you were expecting, and it took you a few minutes to clear each aisle for walkers. As you did, you noticed how most supplies were missing from the shelves, having been taken before the place was locked up. Still, Glenn had always drilled into you the first rule of scavenging: 'there's nothing good left in this world that isn't hidden.'

Sending a nod to Carol, you put your gun away in your holster before reminding her to stay alert. The two of you split up as she made her way towards the canned goods sections, hoping to find something there. Ever since you'd been on the road, you and Carol had gotten quite a bit closer. At first, she seemed sceptical of Rick and the whole situation you were forced into, as you all did. Though, after time she seemed to realise that he was the group's best shot. Most days, the two of you made dinner with anything you could find, often supplementing the things you were missing with whatever Daryl had managed to bring home from his hunt. Other times, you went scavenging together, as you did today.

At first, Rick absolutely refused to let anyone split up, and you had to abide by his rule. One time he'd caught you mocking his 'this isn't a democracy' speech to Beth behind his back and you'd had to forfeit your portion of squirrel to the greater good that evening. Daryl sneaked you some of his afterwards, however. Though, Rick quickly began to realise that there was no other choice. Before long, you'd gotten good with a gun; taking down walkers each day had that effect. Soon, you were one of the frontrunners whenever you had a house to clear - often fighting alongside him, Glenn and Daryl.

Now, he was comfortable with you leading a few runs of your own and taking Carol along with you. Glenn and Maggie often went together, too, so that you covered more ground. It wasn't that Rick was comfortable with splitting up the group, you thought; he just didn't have a choice. Lori was nearing her due date and you were all practically living on fresh air, moving from place to place quicker than you had the chance to catch your breath.

You hadn't even had time to settle things with Daryl. You barely saw the man. He'd leave first thing in the morning to look for food, and be back late at night - when most of the group had already fallen asleep. Even then, he often took watch straight after he returned. You could tell how responsible he felt for everyone and you saw the worry in his eyes daily, if the bags under them were anything to go by.

After you had kissed Daryl, back at the farm, you only had one conversation about it. It was a couple of days after you all fled, when you were taking watch with him as the rest of the group were stuck camping under the stars. It was brief, and before that the two of you had already gone back to acting as good friends, like usual. He'd told you that he wasn't good with words, and didn't want to just give you some half-assed response in the midst of struggling to survive the Georgia winter. You agreed, and it was decided then that you'd talk about it later. Yet, later never came.

It had been an unspoken rule between the two of you that everyone's safety was the priority. Though, in truth, you hadn't had a single moment where you felt safe since you left the farm. It seemed almost cruel that immediately after you'd told the man that you wanted to live, rather than just survive, you had been thrust out into the vicious world where that's all you could struggle to do. So, the two of you just existed at the moment.

Some mornings you'd wake up to sound of him leaving, and some evenings he'd be back early enough to share a meal with you. Other than that, you lived for the brief occasions where you'd take watch together, when he'd smoke a cigarette next to you and you'd sit in content silence. Though, sometimes it felt like you were frightened to say anything at all, in case you accidentally blurted out all of your feelings at once. So, the both of you barely talked - waiting for the time when you could actually talk.

You shoved some supplies into your satchel as you scoured the aisles. There wasn't much you could see that hadn't been taken already, but you picked up a few bandaids in case you ever needed them. The only thing you were able to save from the farm was your satchel. Luckily, it already had your polaroids in it and a change of clothes, since you'd been packing to move into the Greenes' farmhouse at the time the horde arrived. Still, there was so much you missed from those days.

You missed the material things, like the comfort you got just from seeing Dale's RV parked by the main camp. You missed the flimsy deck chairs surrounding it, and the big apple trees that gave it shade, and the books you'd borrow from Hershel's library to read when you had lookout duty on top of it. You missed your white dress that smelt like the washing powder that Patricia used - even though you knew it wouldn't have survived long out in these dingy, cold places. You even missed the intangible things, and felt a deep longing of nostalgia for the sounds of the leaves rustling in the breeze or for the sweetness of the air. Those days felt so far away from you now, like the images of them were slipping out of your grasp - like grains of sand before you could catch them.

The things that remained fresh in your mind, however, were the people that you left behind. You missed Patricia and Jimmy and Andrea, and even Shane. As much as that man rubbed you the wrong way, you didn't want to see him die. You didn't want any of them to die. That night was a mess. These days, you often woke up in a cold sweat from the nightmares. Except, this time it was the faces of your family replacing the walkers that usually inhabited them. You missed the people you'd lost and you missed the place that you all thought was home. You also missed Daryl Dixon.

A loud clatter sounded from a few rows over from you, immediately making you thumb over your gun as you stilled in place.

"Carol?" You called over, unable to see her from behind the tall shelves. "Everything alright?"

She responded instantly, and you felt relief wash over you as she did.

"I'm fine. I just dropped a tin." She reassured you, her voice carrying as an echo in the empty store.

You let out a small sigh before continuing with your poor haul. It was times like these that you really felt your mind wander when it shouldn't. You knew that you should always be cautious, since you promised Rick that you'd look out for Carol. Though, quite frankly, you thought that he didn't give her enough credit. That woman was a force to be reckoned with, but not many people had realised it yet. Daryl had. The friendship the two of them shared was really admirable. He'd been the one to search for Sofia, and comfort Carol after the loss of her - and Carol was equally as good for him as he was for her. She'd been able to coax him out of his shell where even you struggled to, and you could see how he'd started to accept his new role within the group because of her.

You just wished, very selfishly, that you could be with him. You understood that he had a job to do now, and how not everyone was able to do the things he did. The group had women and children and older people and a pregnant Lori. You were all running on empty, barely hanging on as it was. Yet, those nights when he'd come back empty-handed, cursing himself under his breath when he thought you were all asleep, made you want to hold him close. You never did, knowing how much Daryl Dixon hated pity from anyone, but the longing was so strong that it made your eyes sting with tears.

Although things weren't awkward between the two of you, you didn't joke around nearly as much as you used to. The atmosphere always felt heavy, as nobody knew when the next meal would come, or how long this place would be safe before you had to move again. As the nights got bitterly cold, you huddled next to Beth for warmth, or Carol sometimes. You felt absolutely no shame in it. There were only a few tattered blankets to go around, but they barely did anything for your numb toes and stiff fingers. If you weren't all family before, then you definitely were now - given how close you'd all had to become.

Some nights, the ones which were your favourites, Daryl slept beside you. You didn't think it was intentional at first. Or, maybe it was. In the grand scheme of things, it was barely anything at all. Yet, the first time almost made you cry, as it felt like he was reminding you that he still cared for you. It wasn't like you ever embraced him, or did anything remotely intimate. You hadn't ever been anything more than the brief kiss you shared in his tent. Though, it still felt intimate to you.

He'd come in late, as usual, on a particularly cold night. You'd heard him slug off his boots and throw them aside as he stripped out of his heavy winter gear. The whole time, you'd pretended to be asleep, like you normally did. After a while, he finally laid down on the ground, clambering over the sleeping bodies of the rest of the group. You usually all huddled together in one room for warmth. You'd felt the floorboards creak and shift beneath you as he settled next to you, not that you were touching, but close enough to feel his presence and hear his breathing.

Once you were sure he'd fallen asleep, you scooted backwards slightly, so that your backs were touching. It was hardly anything, but the slight warmth you felt from him was more comfort than you'd had in weeks. You were touch starved and hungry and cold. You needed something. When you'd woken up the next morning, he was already gone. He never said anything about it, but since then you'd found yourself occasionally waking up in the middle of the night to your back pressed against his, or sometimes having a hand intertwined with your own.

As you finished down one aisle, you noticed another that had been left untouched. It was a toy section, quite small given the size of the store. Obviously, the necessities had been taken first, and you thought that whatever children had survived the apocalypse probably didn't have many things left to play with - since they were all still here. You trailed your finger over the dusty shelf, feeling the glossy plastic of the boxes and the soft fur of the stuffed animals piled there.

"Looking for something for the baby?" Carol asked, popping up behind you.

You immediately jumped, and flung a hand over your chest as you shot her a look. It had been your fault for not paying attention, but she didn't need to know that.

You shook your head. "Not intentionally." You admitted, eyes scanning over the selection. "But I suppose we could pick something up."

You chose one of the bears and shoved it into your satchel. Usually, you'd have looked for something for Carl, too, but he'd recently been acting a lot older than his years. He wanted to step up and protect everyone like his father, he confessed to you one day. You had to admit, he was a pretty good shot and certainly didn't seem like a child anymore. You didn't want to undermine his efforts by presenting him with an action figure in the midst of your current situation, telling him to take a break from killing walkers to play with it.

"Did you find anything?" You turned to look at Carol, who held up her bag that didn't seem anywhere near full.

She shrugged her shoulders at you and made a face. "Few expired cans, but nothing much." She frowned. "You?"

You shook your head softly and flipped open the flap of your satchel to show her your haul.

"Some bandaids and a Freddie Mercury bobblehead." You confessed, picking it out to show her.

You held up the small figure in front of her face, pulling back its comically large head with your thumb and letting it wobble.

"Cute, right?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Carol just gave a small chuckle in reply, folding her arms as though about to half-heartedly scold a child. You shrugged your shoulders before stuffing it back into the bag. Just because Carl didn't want to play with toys anymore didn't mean that you couldn't.

Carol glanced over at the entrance of the store, before giving the shelves a final scan. "We should get going soon." She noted, her bag clanking as she readjusted it over her shoulder. "Some walkers might have gathered outside by now."

You hummed in response, distracted by the array of multi-coloured boxes. "It's fine, I'll look after you." You said, shooting her a wink as she sighed.

The woman had become used to your teasing by now, and it was a welcomed change from how tense you all were most of the time. Even though you mostly used humor as a coping mechanism, especially when you felt nervous, it seemed to lighten the atmosphere when it got a bit too heavy.

"Though I don't think you even need me." You continued, eyeing the small pistol she had tucked into her jeans. "You're getting pretty good with a gun."

Carol snorted at that, reminding you of the time she almost shot a bullet through Rick's boot not so long ago. In her defence, Rick had been a lot more on edge that day, and you'd been quite tempted to do the same.

"Speak for yourself." She spoke, after you'd tried to convince her otherwise. "You started learning after me and your aim's already on parr with Rick's."

You remembered those first days, and how hard they were. Everyone had fallen into their roles and you'd felt almost stuck in place. You didn't know how best to contribute. It had taken the neighbourhood you were all staying in to get overrun before you had the chance to test your skills. You hadn't wanted to waste bullets before that, but you'd scarcely had a choice then.

"He's a good teacher." You smiled at Carol, giving Rick praise where it was due. "And there's no better practice than being terrified and having to learn on the job." You admitted with a strained laugh.

You continued walking down the aisle slowly, back in the direction of the entrance.

"But you're right, we should go." You agreed, gesturing to the door.

The two of you took a few steps together before you stopped abruptly as something caught your attention, right in the corner of your eye. You whipped your head around to look at one of the glossy toy boxes, reading its bold letter description.

"Oh my god." You mumbled to yourself, below your breath.

Carol looked over at you, confused. "What is it?" She asked, glancing in the direction where you were staring.

You couldn't hold back the grin that spread over your face as you grabbed the box and held it in your hand. You glanced over your shoulder, at Carol, before running your fingers back over the dusty plastic.

"No fucking way!" You yelled in disbelief. It seemed like your luck was finally changing.

Carol peered over your shoulder before letting out a chuckle at your expression.

"Now that would be perfect for the baby." She smiled, staring down at it in your hands.

You shook your head at her, looking up to meet her eyes. "I actually had someone else in mind." You admitted, still feeling the smile tug at the corners of your mouth as you said it. "It's a bit of an inside joke we have."

Carol hummed in reply, but didn't press for answers.

"But I agree." You went on, making room for the box to fit into your satchel. "It'll probably get handed down to baby Grimes at some point."

The walk back to the cabin was pretty uneventful. The two of you stayed in the cover of the forest, out of sight of the main road. You'd had to dispatch a couple of walkers on the way, but nothing that the two of you couldn't handle. At this point, you just wished for another set of clothes that weren't covered in muck and dried blood. You could hardly remember the last time you'd worn something clean - that hadn't just been dunked in a creek when you came across one.

As you walked, you must have strayed slightly off the path that you usually took, since you came across an unfamiliar, old Toyota truck that had veered off road and crashed into a tree. It was covered in dried leaves and all beat up, but you recognised the model as the same one belonging to Otis, back at the Greene farm. It was always parked outside there. It was a simple, two person pick up truck that was rusty red in colour, and it instantly made you think back on the night that you were forced into driving it.

After Rick had told you and Daryl that Randall had escaped, the whole farm went into an uproar. You stayed in the farmhouse whilst some of the group went to look for him, Daryl included. It wasn't long before you spotted the horde coming your way, and Hershel's barn had started to go up in flames in the distance. After that, you could barely remember what had happened.

You'd been with Daryl at first. He shot the walkers that got too close with his crossbow, before switching to guns. You did the same, trying to give the others an opportunity to pile into the vehicles and escape. At some point, however, you got completely cut off from the rest of the group and had been forced back to the opposite side of the farmhouse.

The chaos was indescribable. It was like you'd been drafted up for war in the span of half an hour. Soon, you had run out of bullets and only had your knife left to defend yourself. So, you ran. Not able to see any of the others anymore, you sprinted for the last vehicle left - Otis' old Toyota truck. You flung the door open and clambered inside, locking it just in time to avoid the hands that smacked up onto the glass windows. You remembered how your chest heaved as your hands fumbled around the dash frantically. You finally found the keys tucked into the sun visor above your head, and almost cried from relief.

When your hands stopped shaking long enough to put it in the ignition, you turned the key only for the engine to rumble once before falling flat. You tried it again, and it gave out a choked sputter and died.

"No, no, no." You whispered, turning the key over and over to try and start the truck. "This can't be happening."

The windows had almost been completely blacked out by the number of hands and faces pressed against them, the walkers snapping their jaws at you as you panicked inside. In the rearview mirror, you could even see some start to clamber into the truck bed, and knew that it was only a matter of time before they completely swarmed you. You slammed your hands onto the steering wheel in frustration and yelled, not caring whether you attracted more.

"I can't die now, I just kissed that stubborn asshole!" You screamed, accidentally hitting the windscreen wiper stick with your elbow. You watched as the blade caught one of the walkers' flesh and smeared it over the glass.

"Fucking great." You sighed, and turned the key again.

This time, you felt it catch slightly between your fingers, and thought that perhaps the starter motor was sticking. The truck hadn't been used since Otis' death, but it still seemed to have some life in it. You jiggled the key and turned it half way, praying to every deity you could think of. You twisted it fully, and the engine roared to life. You held your breath for a few seconds, not entirely trusting it, but as it continued to rumble you realised that it had started properly this time.

Not wanting to sit around any longer, you immediately set off, mowing down the stream of walkers in front of you all while hoping that the car wouldn't flip over. You watched your mirror as the ones clinging onto the truck bed were flung off as you picked up speed, and you almost wanted to yell out in triumph - but felt like you might be sick if you did so.

The truck was hell to drive. You couldn't figure out the stick for a while and your windscreen was covered in blood and smeared guts. You knew you had to head for the highway where the supplies for Sofia were left. You'd gone with Rick one time, when he went to wait for her there at noon. As you pulled out of Hershel's farm, you gave a final glance back in your mirror to see your home burn and become entirely inhabited by the undead - and noticed your little yellow submarine trampled to the ground as you did so.

As you neared the highway, after driving on the wrong side of the road for a while without realising it, you felt a knot start to form in your stomach. You hadn't seen the others get away - you didn't know if they were alive or dead, or even if they would have waited for you if they managed to escape. Your eyes blurred with tears as you drove, still not feeling any sense of relief despite having made it out of the farm. You just prayed that everyone was safe.

When you got closer to the meeting spot, you immediately noticed the familiar vehicles from the farm, and even Daryl's motorbike, all parked up. You stopped the truck once you couldn't go any further, being blocked by the abandoned cars. The group began to approach you quickly as you clambered out and hit the floor with shaky feet. Glenn reached you first, smiling widely when he saw that you were okay.

"Is that you?" He asked, clapping a hand over your trembling shoulders. "I've never seen anyone drive that badly before-"

You didn't let him finish, instead running over to Daryl on unsteady feet. You flung yourself into his arms, which pulled you in close and held you tight. You sobbed louder than you thought you ever had before, crying into his chest as you felt one of his hands stroke softly over your back. You didn't care what anyone thought at this moment. Nothing could describe the feeling of losing your home and thinking your family was dead. You realised how close you had been to being all alone, once again.

"Hey, c'mon look at me." He said softly, trying to pry himself out of your grip.

He lifted your chin up with his finger and you knew that you must've looked quite the state. Your eyes were completely blurred with tears, so much that you could barely make out the man in front of you, and your nose ran as you struggled to hold back your sobs.

"It's a'right." He reassured you, looking into your eyes as if realising that you needed further convincing. "Yer safe."

You looked around at the group, taking in their faces and feeling your hands tremble against Daryl's chest as they clutched the material of his shirt still. Everyone looked relieved, and offered you small smiles of comfort.

You stepped back from the man a little, giving him his space. You still couldn't stop the tears from falling. It was as if your body still hadn't caught up to your mind.

"I was so scared." You admitted quietly, voice quivering as you did so. "I thought you'd all left me."

You didn't drop your hands from his chest, letting yourself feel his heartbeat beneath your palms as a reminder that this was all real.

Daryl shook his head at you. "We'd never leave ya, Teach" He grumbled, as though he couldn't believe you'd even suggest it. "Went back to look for ya on the bike but I couldn't find ya."

Maggie stepped forward, pulling you into a hug as you finally released Daryl's shirt from your grip. She stroked your hair as she brought you into her chest, and you felt tears stream down your cheeks.

"You scared us all half to death." She told you, before gripping onto your shoulders tightly as you stood back from her.

Glenn nodded in agreement, before letting out a small chuckle. "Then we spotted Otis' truck barreling down the highway." He said, pointing over to the vehicle you'd abandoned. "Thought a walker was driving it the way you were swerving all over the place."

You tried to let out a laugh in return, but it came out all watery in between your sobs.

"The gearstick-" you choked out, hiccuping as you spoke. "Had to change gears with the wrong hand." You explained, lifting your arm to give a poor demonstration as you continued to cry.

"You-" you spluttered, letting out a wail mixed with a desperate laugh. "You stupid Americans."

It was a few days before you and Daryl crossed paths in the cabin again. It was late and you'd been trying to sleep for a few hours when the door creaked open. He'd shuffled around for a bit before you heard him take over watch duty from Glenn. At first, you'd wanted to go outside and scold him for never taking the time to rest, but after a few minutes you decided on a different plan. Prying yourself out from underneath the blanket you shared with Beth, you pulled on your boots - not bothering to do up the laces. The icy breeze hit your skin and caused it to prickle instantly, making you wish you had a spare comforter to take with you. You wouldn't be surprised if it snowed soon, given how dry and bitter the air had felt on your cheek earlier that day.

You retrieved your satchel and tip-toed around the sleeping bodies, doing your best not to step on any creaky floorboards and disturb them. You opened the cabin door slowly, and shut it behind you as you stepped out into the night. Daryl was sitting on the stone wall a few feet away, and you could tell that the smoke coming from his lips was from more than just the cold. He had a cigarette lit between his fingers, and you could make out the familiar lighter that he flicked open and closed in his other hand. You approached with purposefully loud footsteps, not wanting to startle him. He didn't turn around, waiting until you came closer.

"Mind if I join you?" You shot him a smile, pulling your arms to your chest to try and protect yourself against the chill.

He hummed in response, and you noticed how exhausted he looked in the glow of the lighter flame that flickered near his cheeks. His hands were covered in dirt, as were parts of his face, and his hair stuck to his forehead and the back of his neck despite how cold it was. Though, you were sure that you didn't look any better. Your once white vest was now a grubby brown colour and you'd pulled your long hair into a bun on top of your head about a week ago and hadn't looked back since.

Wordlessly, the man shrugged off the poncho he'd found recently, and handed it to you. He had another leather jacket on underneath, but you still felt guilty. You thanked him, pulling it over your head and instantly feeling grateful for the warmth that engulfed you. He then pulled a carton of cigarettes out of his pocket, offering it over to you where he sat. You shook your head and gave him a small smile as he shrugged and stuffed them back into his jacket.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, just watching and listening to the night. Nothing was uncomfortable between you. It's just that the two of you were almost like magnets, trying to intentionally stay away from each other. You feared that the two of you might never be able to seperate if you stuck together for good. It wasn't awkward, but there was definitely unspoken tension, like you were both waiting for something that you couldn't let happen yet.

"I miss my tent." You sighed, watching your breath appear as a small puff of air against the black night.

Daryl grumbled at that. "I sure as hell don't." He muttered, taking a final drag from his smoke before snuffing it out on the wall. "Thing was an eyesore."

You chuckled a bit at his response, not really sure what you were expecting. "You loved it, really." You teased, shooting him a wink that he dismissed.

"Whatever, Sunshine." He mumbled back, but his voice sounded a lot lighter than it had for a while.

After a few seconds, you remembered your satchel, now safely tucked away in the warmth of the poncho you wore. You fumbled around beneath it for a bit, which made Daryl give you a look, before pulling out the canvas bag and setting it onto your lap.

"I have something for you." You beamed, feeling the breeze sting your sore, chapped lips.

Daryl sighed at you, finally looking over to meet your eyes.

"Ya need to stop gettin' me shit." He drawled, with no bite behind his words.

You shook your head quickly at the accusation. "It isn't from me!" You almost yelled, before reminding yourself that there were people sleeping a few feet away, and lowering your voice.

You glanced back at the cabin and pointed to it. "This place has no chimney, so he told me to pass it onto you."

Daryl raised an eyebrow at you, which you ignored. Instead, you fished around in your satchel until you found what you were looking for. You could barely contain your excitement as you pulled out the box wrapped messily in old newspapers, and handed it to him expectantly.

He took it from you carefully, as though not entirely trusting it. Though, he still held it gently in his hand, in case he was afraid to break it. You watched intently as he flipped it over and squinted his eyes at the writing on it, confusion clear on his face. You'd scribbled on it earlier in the day, having found a sharpie tucked away in one of the drawers. You'd tried to do it secretively, but almost had a heart attack when Glenn asked you what you were doing - dropping the gift and kicking it under the couch until he promised to leave. Luckily, you hadn't found any dents on it afterwards. Yet, you now found it almost comical how carefully Daryl treated the box, considering what you had done to it only a few hours before.

Your eyes scanned over the letters with him as he read them, seeing the words written on top of the newspaper in black, bold print:

'To Young Daryl Dixon,

Merry Christmas!

From, Father Christmas.'

By the time he looked up to question you, you were already watching his eyes - waiting to see his expression. At the moment, his face was still scrunched up in confusion, which made you chuckle. The man looked at you like you'd just handed him a bomb he didn't know how to diffuse.

"Father Christmas?" He asked slowly, like the syllables were foreign on his tongue.

You cocked your head to the side, looking back down at the gift and wondering if you'd made a mistake. Your eyes widened.

"Shit." You muttered below your breath, before looking back up to meet his gaze. "It's Santa Clause to you people, isn't it?" You questioned.

Daryl looked at you in disbelief, as if wondering what the hell you were going on about. You were used to that look from him by now, and continued to ramble.

"I'm sure that's what he meant." You said, nodding. "He probably was in a rush when he wrote it." You looked away from the man, trying not to giggle as you remembered the whole incident between you and Glenn.

He continued to stare at you before shaking his head.

"Yer crazy, woman." He grumbled, picking the wrapped box back up to inspect it closer.

You felt your patience reach its limit, unable to contain your excitement anymore. You shoved his arm.

"Just open it!" You ordered, and he did.

For a man so rough around the edges, you'd never seen someone unwrap a gift so gently before. He didn't rip into the paper like you would have, but spent a few extra seconds pulling the parcel tape off and unfolding it with care. Once it was opened up on his lap, you watched his face as he finally saw the plastic box inside.

You knew it wasn't the exact same one he'd told you about, from all of those years ago, but it must've been close. It was a child's sheriff kit. It had the little hat that looked similar to Rick's, and the pointy metal badge in the shape of a star. When you'd seen it in the store, you just knew you had to get it for him. He might have forgotten telling you about it by now, but you had remembered.

"It didn't come with a gun, I'm afraid." You pointed to the plastic window of the box, explaining it to him. "But we have plenty of those."

You shot him a smile as you saw his expression. It was still confused, as he glanced between you and the box in his palms, but it was a lot more shy and uncertain now. You could almost see the thoughts working overtime in that head of his, as he processed it all, and decided to stop staring at him.

"It was either this or a Freddie Mercury bobblehead." You noted, feeling your cheeks hurt at how much you were beaming at the man. "And I wanted the bobblehead."

He sat in silence, just listening to your ramblings as he usually did. His eyes were still fixated on the gift, as if making up for all the years he'd wished for it as a child. You desperately wanted to slip your hand into his, or rest your head on his shoulder - but you refrained. You didn't want to take away from this moment; you just wanted to watch it. That, and you weren't sure if you'd be able to let him go if you did.

"You said how you never got any presents as a kid." You started carefully, trying to navigate your thoughts into words. "It made me sad." You admitted, in more of a whisper this time.

Daryl looked over at you, his expression soft. It was like he was uncertain of his own words, too.

"I know it's stupid." You confessed, voice trailing off as you lost your nerve.

"Nah it aint." He interrupted, shaking his head and trying to get you to look at him. "I love it."

You thought he was being sarcastic until your eyes met his and you saw the sincerity within them, and suddenly your breath caught in your throat. Daryl Dixon gave you a smile so warm that it almost made you forget it was winter. You didn't know he could even make these kinds of expressions, and you weren't able to entirely hide your reaction. Though, his smile went as quickly as it came. He looked away from you, as if noticing he'd let his stubborn, unapproachable wall crumble down. You snorted, wondering if he truly hadn't realised that you knew him better than that by now.

"I thought that baby Grimes could play with it eventually." You suggested, and he hummed in agreement.

"But in the meantime-" you continued, taking the box from his hands and opening it.

He watched you with curious eyes but didn't say anything, just letting you carry on like you had him wrapped around your little finger. You fumbled with the box, pulling out the star shaped badge, before handing the rest back. You turned so that you were facing opposite him, and pulled on his leather jacket so that it opened.

He grumbled at you as you did it, but made no effort to pull away or stop you. Instead, you flipped open one side of his jacket and pinned the badge on the material inside, closing it again before the cold set it.

"It belongs to Deputy Dixon, as promised." You finished with a smile, watching as he thumbed over the metal concealed in his jacket. The look on his face showed just how much he struggled to figure you out.

To your surprise, he didn't remove it straight away. He just bit his lip, as though trying to think of how to respond.

"Yer too much, Teach." He said lowly, after a few seconds.

"How so?" You asked.

He glanced back down into his lap, at the box that was still resting there. "Doin' all this." He mumbled, seeming like he was holding himself back. You stayed silent, waiting for him to go on.

"You bring back comics for Carl, an' stuff for the baby." He said, looking down as he spoke. "We're all here tryna do our best jus' to survive, an' you come in with that huge beamin' smile on yer face showin' us a bobblehead ya found."

He finally met your eyes, and you could see from his look that he just genuinely couldn't comprehend it. You seemed to completely allude Daryl Dixon, and the thought of him struggling to try to understand you better made you almost giddy.

"I know it's odd." You admitted, pulling the poncho closer to your body as the wind picked up. "But just because our priority is surviving doesn't mean that we should put off living."

You bit your lip. This was the most you had spoken to the man in weeks, and as the seconds went by you found it harder and harder to hold yourself back.

"I thought you could use a reminder of that." You said, offering him a small smile. "You work so hard to try and keep us all fed and safe, I wanted to give you something as a thank you."

The newspaper fluttered in the breeze, and Daryl barely caught hold of it as a gust picked it up. You caught a glimpse of your handwriting, where he held it between his fingers.

"Santa Clause did, I mean." You corrected.

You sat together in silence for a while, but the man didn't light any more cigarettes. You felt yourself growing tired and attempted to convince him to swap his shift with someone else, but he refused. You knew the sun would start to rise in a couple of hours, so you wanted to get some sleep before then. Begrudgingly, you shuffled out of the oversized poncho and offered it back to the man before you left, immediately being reminded of how icy the weather had gotten. He shook his head at your outstretched hand, which you had already expected.

"Nah, you keep it." He said, in a way that left you no room to argue.

You raised an eyebrow at him, feeling nostalgic at the familiar situation. This time, however, you didn't fight with him. Slipping the material back over your head, you huddled it to your chest and whispered a soft 'thanks' to him. The sky was still dark, and kept you wondering whether you would start to see sleet fall in the next couple of days. You looked back over to the dilapidated cabin, with its wooden weathered walls and its roof that looked close to caving in. It was a far cry from Hershel's idyllic farmhouse, but somehow you didn't seem to mind as much on this specific night.

You slipped off the stone wall you'd been sitting on and stood up on your tip-toes to reach the man still sat there. You brushed away the hair over his face with the palm of your hand, and gave him a brief kiss on the forehead before turning to leave.

"Merry Christmas, Daryl." You told him, and returned to the house to watch the first snowflakes fall from the window.

A/N Don't you love it when the plot points you set up 6 chapters ago come back around to be resolved. It's *delicious*. I think I would actually pay to see the Christmas scene play out. There's only so much imagination can do - I want to see Daryl's shy reaction in person, too!

As usual, drop me a message to be included in the tags list!

Tag List:

@xxboesefrauxx ​ @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @teel-dinosaur @greenbeansarelit @bunnymother93 @alularae3 @death-becomes-her @royaleclown @alex-sulli

[ohmycenchaheart]

Okay, but I need a fic where Cha Young is sick and Vincenzo is taking care of her à la The Hating Game.

Give me a Vincenzo who is fretting as every minute passes because Cha Young hasn’t come in for work nor is she answering her phone, and Mr. Nam who is also low-key anxious, because even though Cha Young is not always the most punctual person, the only time the two lawyers come in late is if they’ve stopped by a cafe to get coffees for the three of them, and Cassano Byeonhosanim is already here in the Jipuragi office so where is Hong Byeonhosanim?

Give me a Cha Young who was so sick the night before, she forgot to charge her phone at night, and her now dead phone has some 20 missed calls from Vincenzo and Mr. Nam each.

Give me a worried Vincenzo who drives as fast as he can to Cha Young’s house; who walks in (of course he knows the code and has his own set of spare keys to her house) and is surprised to see the kitchen a mess (because Cha Young isn’t fastidious, but she does hate a messy kitchen); and who heaves a huge sigh of relief to see her bundled under her blankets when he walks into her room. 

Although that relief doesn’t last long when he realises just how sick she is. Give me Vincenzo placing a cool, damp washcloth on her forehead, forcing her to take meds and holding her hair when she throws up. Give me Vincenzo gently stroking her hair, and a very feverish Cha Young softly calling out “Eomma.. Abeoji.. Cenzo..” in her sleep. 

Give me Mr. Nam dropping by with an overnight bag for Vincenzo (because there’s no way he’s going to leave Cha Young’s when she’s so sick). 

Give me Ms. Kwak preparing and bringing over some juk and other comfort food, because Cha Young needs to eat home cooked food, and her juk always does the trick when Yeong Ho is sick. Also, she’s not sure if Mr. Cassano can cook. And she’s pretty sure he hasn’t given a thought to his meals either. 

Give me Cheol Wook, Yeon Jin and Dal Rae dropping by with some fruits. The fruits are just an excuse -- Yeon Jin looks after Cha Young while Cheol Wook and Dal Rae make sure Vincenzo finally takes a few minutes to eat something. Also, little Dal Rae is the only one who succeeds in making her godfather smile (albeit a small one) that day.

Give me Han Seo, Mr. Cho, Mr. Tak, Director Ahn and Seok Do, all calling up Vincenzo in turns and offering to drive them both to the E.R. should the need arise. Han Seo offers to get his noona the best doctors from the best hospital in Seoul and even pay for the entire VIP floor of the hospital if needed.

Give me Mi Ri and Monk Chae Shin dropping by with tea and vitamins for Cha Young and offering to do small chores around the house like tidying up the kitchen. Give me Cha Young finally feeling a little better and telling Vincenzo he doesn’t need to stay, he can go home and rest now, she’ll be alright and him looking at her with the most intense look in his eyes and the softest, most resolute No, and that’s the end of that.  Give me Cha Young hobbling to the bathroom to freshen up, and stopping in her tracks when she sees the now tidied up kitchen and living room, and all the food on her dining table, courtesy the Geumga family. Give me Cha Young leaning into Vincenzo for support, who is half hugging her and reassuringly rubbing her shoulder, and her tearing up slightly, because after her Abeoji’s death she thought she would never have a family again, but times like these make her so thankful for their crazy family. Give me Vincenzo changing the sheets on her bed and opening the windows in her room to let some fresh air in, while she’s in the bathroom freshening up.

Give me Yeong Ho dropping by in the evening because of an errand Mr. Cassano asked of him as a special favour: he’s brought them bungeoppang! Give me Cha Young and Vincenzo relaxing in the living room, because Cha Young is feeling much better now and she needs a change from her bedroom. They’re both on the couch watching the latest melo drama, with Cha Young’s feet in Vincenzo’s lap, and him cutting an apple into slices for her. 

And imagine the amused expressions on both their faces when their Geumga Cassano family group chat blows up because everyone is texting to check in and see how the two of them are doing. And then Vincenzo does something very unlike him: he sends them a selfie of the two of them. And then the group chat really blows up, and Cha Young can’t stop laughing. But also, aish, did you have to take a pic when I’m looking like that, huh? And imagine Soo Nam texting “just get married already, why don’t you” and immediately deleting his text. But of course everyone’s seen it. Vincenzo and Cha Young don’t mention it to each other though. Although Vincenzo is already cursing Soo Nam in his head, because he already has a plan.

Give me Cha Young falling asleep as she lays huddled to Vincenzo’s side, and him arranging a throw around her, stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head softly, and then leaning back and closing his eyes and settling for a nap himself. Give me Cha Young waking up a few mins later, and seeing this sweet, tired man finally resting, and she smiles to herself and kisses his cheek and then snuggles again into him and closes her eyes. She’s finally feeling better.

Give me Cha Young and Vincenzo having dinner a couple hours later, with him low-key fussing over her because she needs to eat more to keep her strengths up. Give me Vincenzo handing Cha Young her meds, tucking her into bed once she’s taken them while she reiterates yet again that she’s fine, and him kissing her forehead and telling her to sleep well and then settling into the bedding that he’s laid on the floor by her bedside. Give me both of them having a staring match from their respective beds, until Vincenzo dozes off first, and Cha Young reaches out and touches his hair, now down and curling across his forehead, and mutters a soft gomawoyo, before giving in to sleep herself.

[morganaspendragonss]

holly's august extravaganza day 26: slowly becoming lovers

for sonia (@pragmaticoptimist34)! i have to confess something - i got so caught up in writing this that i actually forgot to include either of the other two prompts you sent me 🙈 i hope you like it anyway!

second confession - it was supposed to be longer and then it kind of got away from me so i had to draw a line somewhere oops

thanks to @ravens-words, @cosmiicmalex, @halsteadmarchs and liz (sorry, i don't know your tumblr!) for enabling me and to @noxsoulmate for beta'ing!

ao3 | 2.9k | falling in love, fluff, tiny, tiny hint of hurt/comfort, soft tarlos, set between s1 and s2

Things don’t get fixed overnight. They agree to give them a shot, but that doesn’t change the fact that TK is still reeling from his break-up and overdose, nor that Carlos is still hesitant and afraid of pushing too hard at once.

But, slowly, they get to know each other. And, slowly, they start to fall in love.

i. food preferences

“You have to be joking.”

“It tastes like soap, Carlos!”

Carlos groans and drops his head into his hands, shaking his head at this latest revelation from his boyfriend. His boyfriend, who has just made his life—or at least his cooking—a hell of a lot more complicated. “My mamá would have a fit if she could hear you now.”

He almost regrets the words as TK’s eyes alight with interest; he’s been dancing around the topic of his parents for a while now, but it’s not like he can deny what he said. His mom would be having a fit, or possibly attempting to kill TK with a wooden spoon, if she found out that Carlos’s boyfriend was not only a gringo, but one who hates coriander.

“I swear, you won’t even taste it when it’s mixed into the food,” he tries, because coriander is a staple of his cooking, and he can’t even fathom not using it.

But TK just levels him with a firm look. “Yes, I will, Carlos. I’ll always taste it.”

Carlos rolls his eyes at his boyfriend’s theatrics, but sighs, relenting. “Fine. I suppose I can—” He doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, as TK throws his arms around him and plants a noisy kiss on his cheek.

“Thanks, babe,” he says, grinning cheekily.

“Yeah, yeah,” Carlos grumbles, but he can’t help but smile.

There’s very little, he’s finding, that he wouldn’t do for TK.

ii. nicknames

It slips out by accident one day.

“TK,” Carlos groans, followed by a gasp as TK moves just right, sending sparks of pleasure down his spine. “TK, Ty—”

TK instantly freezes on top of him and Carlos’s eyes open, concern rising in him as he takes in the pensive look on his boyfriend’s face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I…” TK shakes his head and forces a smile. “It’s nothing. I’m good, I promise.” He ducks down to kiss Carlos again, but the mood is all wrong, and Carlos gently pushes him back, raising an eyebrow. TK holds out a moment longer, then sighs and rolls away, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s stupid.”

Carlos tuts, reaching over to brush a hand through TK’s hair. “Bet you $20 it’s not.”

“Hope you have $20 then, Reyes,” TK says wryly. He looks over at Carlos and sighs again, biting his lip. “It’s just… You called me Ty.”

“Oh.” Carlos’s eyes widen and he props himself up on an elbow. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking; it won’t happen again—”

TK presses a finger against his lips, cutting him off abruptly. He smiles softly, then removes his finger and caresses Carlos’s cheek. “It’s okay,” he says. “More than okay, actually. I… I’ve always hated my name, but, I don’t know, I guess it sounded right? Like, when you said it? I think I’d kill anyone else who tried, but I really liked it coming from you.”

“Are you sure? You’re not just saying that because—”

Carlos is again cut off, this time by TK’s lips on his. TK moves so that he’s straddling Carlos again, hands pressed against his chest. “I’m sure,” he whispers, a grin playing at his mouth. “Now, weren’t we in the middle of something?”

iii. religion

Christmas sneaks up on him that year. Between helping the city recovering from the solar storm, work in general, the pandemic, and building his relationship with TK, Carlos has completely lost track of the months, until it’s a week before the date and he has nothing planned.

Really, it’s never been a big deal for him; he and his family used to attend mass and make an event out of it when he was a kid, but now he’s an adult, he’s often working, and he hasn’t been to church regularly since he was a teenager. But this year is different. This year, he’ll be spending it with TK, their first Christmas together, and he wants to make it special.

But he’s left it too late—nothing he orders online will arrive in time, the shops are becoming a nightmare, and he honestly has no clue where to even start. So Carlos resigns himself to another quiet Christmas, frustration and disappointment welling in him at the thought of telling his boyfriend.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out one night over dinner, the thought having been gnawing at him for days.

TK raises a brow. “For?”

“Christmas,” Carlos sighs, looking down into his stew. “It’s our first one together and I had all these plans, and then I just sort of… I didn’t forget! But things have been so crazy, and—”

He’s cut off when TK lays a hand on his. When Carlos looks up at him, TK seems to be fighting back laughter, which is confusing at best and potentially mildly insulting at worst.

“Babe,” TK says, grinning, “it’s okay. You might not believe me, but I forgot too. Christmas wasn’t really a thing growing up—my mom’s Jewish, so I used to celebrate Hanukkah on the years I stayed with her, and Dad was working more often than not. I don’t care, I promise.”

Carlos blinks. “You’re Jewish?” Surely he would know if… But they’ve never discussed religion before, and Carlos had kind of assumed TK had the same ideals as him about the church. In hindsight that was stupid and presumptuous, and Carlos can’t quite believe he’d do something like that. An apology is on the tip of his tongue, but TK just shrugs, going back to his stew.

“Half,” he says. “I don’t really practice anymore but I still keep the beliefs with me, if that makes sense?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

TK smiles at him, and Carlos suddenly realises that this holiday season will be special after all, even if they don’t celebrate anything. Because he’s with TK, which is the most special thing in the world.

iv. how they sleep

Carlos has been sleeping alone for a long time. He’s had a couple of short-term boyfriends and the odd hook-up here and there, but he’s never had someone else in his bed regularly—certainly not regularly enough to get used to it.

TK was hesitant at first to stay over, but once he started to be more comfortable, it was almost a given that they’d be sleeping together whenever their shifts allowed.

And it had been an adjustment.

TK had warned him he tended to move around and be clingy in his sleep, but Carlos hadn’t quite understood what that meant, until now. He is, essentially, trapped under TK, his arms pinned to his sides and one leg thrown over his hip. TK’s head is pillowed on Carlos’s shoulder and his breath is fanning in soft puffs over his skin.

The only way he can move is if he wakes TK up, and there’s no way Carlos is going to do that. His boyfriend looks so peaceful, and Carlos is more than happy to be clung onto like a koala to a branch if it keeps that expression on his face.

In fact, he thinks he can get used to this very easily.

v. pda

In private, their days are filled with gentle touches and stolen kisses. Carlos will be cooking breakfast and TK will slip his arms around him, kissing the back of his neck. TK will be doing one chore or another and Carlos will brush a hand over his back or gently nudge him as he walks past.

But in public, it’s a whole other story.

It’s almost reflexive, the way TK reaches for Carlos’s hand as they’re walking down the street. It’s something they do all the time at home, and even with their friends, but this time, Carlos immediately tenses, seemingly automatically pulling his hand away.

“You okay?” he asks, frowning.

Carlos takes a deep breath, then obviously plasters on a smile, retaking TK’s hand—and TK can feel the tension in the gesture. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” TK gently lets go of Carlos and smiles reassuringly up at him. “It’s okay if you’re not comfortable with touching in public.”

“I’m sorry, I just—”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. This is all on me; I should have asked.”

“But—”

“But, nothing.” He carefully bumps their soldiers together. “You’re entitled to your boundaries, I’m just sorry for overstepping. Tell me next time, please?”

Carlos hesitates, but nods, a gentle press of their arms a silent acknowledgment of agreement and understanding.

vi. scars

Carlos, TK has noticed, likes to pay extra attention to his bullet scar. Whether it’s pressing a gentle kiss over it when they’re in bed, or brushing it with his fingers when wrapping an arm around him, it happens too often for TK to believe it’s anything but intentional.

He doesn’t understand it at first.

Then he discovers Carlos’s own scars.

“What’s this?” he asks, tracing over the thick raised scarring on Carlos’s side. It stretches along the curve of his waist and round his back, and TK has no idea how he hasn’t noticed it before.

Carlos cranes his neck, letting out a hum when he sees what TK’s looking at. His head flops back down on the pillow and he closes his eyes, absently stroking up and down TK’s sides.

“It was...three years ago, maybe?” he says. “I got stabbed on a call. They told me it was pretty touch-and-go for a while, but they fixed me up and I was back at work in a month.”

His eyes are still closed, body completely relaxed, but TK can’t take his eyes off the scar. He reaches up to his own scar, and he gets it.

Carlos’s eyes crack open. “TK?”

“I’m good,” TK murmurs. He breaks his gaze from Carlos’s abdomen and smiles at him. “We both are.”

And if, after that day, Carlos notices him paying more attention to that scar, he doesn’t say anything.

vii. penguin or panda

“You’re out of your mind!”

In Carlos’s defence, a zoo date had seemed like a good idea. He knows TK loves animals, and he himself grew up around them, so in theory, a trip to Austin Zoo should have been the perfect time to get to know each other better while enjoying the day.

Turns out, TK has some very strong opinions on animals, and is willing to budge for absolutely no-one.

“I can’t believe you think penguins are cuter than pandas! I mean, look at them, Carlos!” He gestures emphatically to the panda enclosure, where one is napping on a log. It’s pretty cute, Carlos has to admit, but…

He shrugs. “But remember when the penguins were all huddling together?”

TK makes a noise of outrage, and Carlos has to laugh, then some more at the wounded pout he gets for it. “Is this really a thing for you?” he asks. “Like, is this going to be the dealbreaker for us?”

TK folds his arms and levels him with a stern look. “That depends,” he says. “Meerkats or koalas?”

And, just because he knows it will rile TK up more, Carlos grins and answers, “Meerkats.”

(They don’t break-up over it, but Carlos isn’t so sure that TK will be forgiving him any time soon.)

viii. special interests

“Say you could go back to a moment in history, but only once,” TK says, out of the blue, breaking the comfortable silence of the front room. Carlos stops carding his fingers through TK’s hair and looks down at him, curious. “Where would you go?”

Carlos opens his mouth, but TK doesn’t give him a second to answer. “Is it cliché if I said I’d go to Stonewall? I mean, I’d really like to see dinosaurs in the flesh, or—oh! I was, like, obsessed with pirates as a kid; I thought they were the coolest things ever, and I pretty much idolised Anne Bonny. But I’m pretty sure I’d die immediately if I went to either of those places, so…”

He trails off, a blush rising on his cheeks. “Sorry, I’m boring you.”

“No!” Carlos rushes to say. “No, you’re not. I love history, I just… What makes you ask?”

“It’s something we got into at the station earlier. Mateo brought it up first, I think?”

Carlos hums, pursing his lips in thought. “I guess…” He sighs and shakes his head. “It’s too hard. There’s so many places I’d want to go and people I’d want to meet.”

“But if you had to pick?” TK pushes, sitting upright and looking at Carlos with interest.

“I really want to meet Eleanor of Aquitaine, but if I could only go to one place…” He hesitates and thinks it over some more, but then his eyes catch on the masks hanging along the stairway, and he’s sure. “Tenochtitlan, but before Cortés arrived. It was a whole society, and I just think it would be so cool to see it up close and to know what it was like first-hand. I mean, I’ve read a lot of books, but we don’t have much from the Mexica people, a lot is from the conquerors, and—”

Carlos stops and huffs a laugh. “Now I’m the one boring you,” he says, but TK shakes his head, eyes bright.

“Tell me more.”

ix. coffee order

TK accepts the coffee without even thinking about it, even taking a sip before he realises he never told Carlos what his order was. He curses himself but resolves to drink it anyway; TK isn’t too much of a coffee snob, and he’s certainly not going to reject anything his boyfriend brings him.

He takes a second sip, and he’s so caught up in making a mental note to tell Carlos next time that it takes a minute for the taste to register. And…

It’s his order.

He looks sharply up at Carlos, who is smiling into his own coffee—therefore dispelling any notion of this being an insanely good guess. “How did you know?” he asks, bewildered.

The tips of Carlos’s ears turn pink, but the smile doesn’t leave his face as he looks up at TK. “Our first real date,” he says. “You mentioned that this was your go-to order.”

And TK can’t do anything but stare, because their first date was weeks ago, and Carlos still remembered, and it’s just…

He thinks—no, he knows—he’s falling in love.

x. fears

“Weirdest fears, go.”

TK has to laugh at the perplexed look Carlos sends him at the question, the straw of his boba hanging out of his mouth. Now that they’ve figured a sort of rhythm out between them, they decided to try the boba place again—there have been no emergencies or disasters so far, so TK is counting it as a win.

“Come on,” he continues. “Last time we were here, you said we barely knew each other—which was true—so now we’re going to fix it.”

Carlos’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “By telling each other our weirdest fears?”

“Exactly!” TK grins. “I’ll go first if you’re too chicken. Mine is slicing my hands open or cutting some fingers off with ice skates.”

“What?” Carlos breathes, disbelief all over his face. “I’ve never been ice skating but I’m pretty sure your hands aren’t supposed to go anywhere near the blades.”

“I didn’t say it was rational.” TK sips his boba, raising an eyebrow at Carlos. “Your turn.”

Carlos swallows, suddenly very interested in the table. “I, uh. When I was a kid, my Tía Lucy had a snake get into her pipes. She only discovered it when she went to the toilet one morning and it was just...sitting there in the bowl. I was terrified for years that the same would happen to us, and it’s kind of become a reflex to check.”

“Oh my god.” TK can’t help but burst out laughing, even though he feels bad for it as Carlos covers his face with his hands. “I’m sorry, I know it’s a real thing for you, I just…”

But Carlos’s shoulders are shaking too and, bizarrely, TK really does feel closer to him now.

It’s a good feeling.

xi. long-term commitments

Carlos is surprised when TK is the one to bring it up first.

“Do you ever think about the future?” he asks one day, head in Carlos’s lap, staring up at the ceiling.

Carlos pauses the show he’s technically supposed to be watching and quirks an eyebrow at his boyfriend. “Sure,” he says. “What about the future exactly?”

TK hesitates, and his voice comes out a lot quieter when he next speaks. “Like…” He sighs, a small flush rising on his cheeks. “The future. Our future. Us. Maybe...marriage, or…”

He trails off, practically whispering by the end of it. His gaze has shifted from the ceiling to the frozen TV screen and he’s chewing on his bottom lip, body stiff with tension. “Sorry,” he mutters. “Forget about it.”

But Carlos is learning to read TK, and he knows he was looking for reassurance. “I mean, yeah,” he says. “I think about it. Do you?”

TK stares up at him, wonder in his eyes. “After New York, I thought… But yeah. Yeah, I do.”

They share a smile as they lock eyes, and Carlos knows that they’re on the same page here. That, distant though they may be, both of them can hear wedding bells in their future.

[comfortwriting]

Best Friends Boyfriend - G.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Part 2 of my slow burn mini-series, inspired by and dedicated to @amourtentiaa , want to be tagged? Let me know!

This chapter is inspired by @amourtentiaa ‘s Owlery which you can learn more about and access here.

Please read Part 1 if you haven't already!

George Weasley x Fem Reader slow burn 

Warnings: Fluff.

You couldn’t get last night out of your head, the sound of George whispering to you, asking you out on a date, how his beautiful face looked from the amber tones coming from the flames that radiated against his face, the way he smiled and licked his lips.

Laying in bed wide awake you kept your hand over your mouth, trying to hold in your giggles so you wouldn’t wake up Hermione and your other dorm mates. You couldn’t believe it - you’re going on a date, with George Weasley, the lad you fancy more than anyone else in the world - the only problem, your best friend, George’s younger brother, Ron, wouldn’t approve and would do anything to make sure the two of you keep well away from one another.

Throughout the whole day, you played it cool when passing George in the common room or the great hall, but as the day moved on and afternoon turned into evening, you couldn’t stop the giggles of excitement from bursting out, and the tint of pink to spread across your cheeks.

You had two hours until you were meeting George, for now, you sat in the common room with Ron and Hermione whilst Harry had Occlumency lessons with Snape.

“What d’you keep giggling about?” Ron hissed at you, scowling “you’ve been at it all day and you’re freaking me out.”

You covered your face with your hands, taking a deep breath and trying to calm the bubbling of nerves and excitement.

“N-Nothing” you replied, “I think I inhaled a dodgy potion somebody was brewing in the second-floor toilets this morning” you lied, avoiding eye contact with your best friend and his crush, Hermione.

Ron gave you an odd look and flashed his eyes to Hermione, who glared at him and shrugged her shoulders.

“Shouldn’t you go to Madame Pomfrey?” she suggested, knitting another hat for the house-elves.

Nodding your head, you got out of your chair and pursed your lips, “yeah, I think I will” you lied again “let me go and get freshened up, she might want to keep me in overnight if the giggles get worse” you smirked, chuckling.

Leaving your friends behind, you hurried off to your dorm room, getting your makeup, clothes, and shoes ready to put on after your shower, placing your clothes and makeup bag on the bed, kicking your shoes on the floor beside it.

“I dunno what's up with her” Ron huffed, slouching in his chair beside the fire.

Hermione continued knitting “Well, hopefully, Madame Pomfrey can sort her out, uncontrollable giggling can get you sent to St. Mungo’s.”

Ron focused on the bobble hat coming together in front of his eyes, trying to make sense of your behaviour today and if there was something else going on after his brother played Hero during the end of your horrific date.

Wearing your best black denim front pocket Pinafore dress over your red and yellow striped turtleneck and black tights, you stared at yourself in the mirror, blushing slightly at the thought of George seeing you dolled up just for him. You pouted, deep in thought and unsure of what hairstyle to do, checking the time you were cutting it close and decided your go-to natural, no school but not overdoing it hairstyle would be best.

“Tomorrow night, where we first met” you reminded yourself, hearing George’s voice inside your head.

Thinking long and hard about when you first met George and where, you closed your eyes and tried to focus, all of your memories whizzing around in your head - you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter knowing that not only did George remember, but he also perhaps thought of that day often.

Hurrying out of your dorm and back into the common room, Harry now sat down with Hermione and Ron, they all seemed taken aback by your appearance, furrowing their brows at you.

“You’re a bit dressed up for a doctors appointment, aren’t you?” Hermione called out.

Ron looked at you from head to toe “I think you’ve overdone it, mate-”

“See you later!” you giggled, a spring in your step as you left the common room, going through the portrait hole.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione exchanged looks, none of them knowing what to think or say was becoming a reoccurring factor today.

“Something isn’t right at all” Ron muttered “she’s up to something”

Reaching the owlery, you felt your excitement and nervousness compete against one another inside of you, being a few minutes early, you had enough time to admire all of the owls around you who were getting ready to go out hunting. Each of them unique and calming to look at, stroke, and hear a hoot. The memories finally coming back to you more clearly.

Your first week at Hogwarts went more awful than you ever imagined, you had got lost on the way to your classes, got into trouble by Percy - your houses Prefect and due to your terrible potion skills Snape put you in a weeks detention, your parents were so angry you received a Howler before anyone else in your class.

Feeling lost, alone, and in need of a friend, you wrote out your worries, concerns and everything else you were feelings into letters, addressed to your friends attending other Wizarding Schools (like Ilvermorny) across the globe.

Writing about your feelings, life, and anything, in general, helped to make you feel better, heard, and less isolated from the impressive and promising classmates that surrounded you.

Walking up the long and steep steps up to the Owlery, your heart melted at the Owls, some sleeping, some bobbing their heads around, and others appearing to be smiling at you. You felt connected to them in some sort of way, and spending time with them, knowing they didn’t care about your house, or how well you could make a feather float in the air made you feel more at ease.

You stared and smiled at your Tawny owl named Penny, you approached her trying to avoid the owl droppings and rat carcasses and stroked her softly, handing her your letters.

“Please deliver these safely,” you told her, tears filling your eyes again “it’s taken a lot for me to write them”

Penny accepted the letters and understood how important this job was, and how much it would mean to you, she pecked at your cheek, little kisses against your tears before she flapped her gorgeous wings and took flight.

Not wanting to go back down to your Herbology class to be a laughing stock, you stayed in the owlery, falling to the floor and weeping.

“If these reports get sent home mum will kill us” once voice spoke out, panting up the stairs.

“Well” replied a similar voice, also panting “we need to change our grades and get one of these owls to send it to her for us, it's why I made a fake replica”

Their voices and footsteps came closer.

“As long as Errol and Hermes aren’t delivering it, we’ll be fine Georgie.”

Two tall twins with ginger hair walked into the Owlery shiftily, both of them stopping in their tracks, noticing you crying on the floor, drowning in your robes.

George’s face and heart softened, he mouthed to his brother ‘leave it with me, I’ll get it sent, let me see why she’s upset’

Freddie nodded and slowly left the Owlery, trying not to make a sound.

You missed Penny with all your heart, after many trips she became so sick and injured no magic, and no amount of Hagrid’s care and love was enough to fix her wings and bring her back to life. When you lost Penny, you lost part of yourself, the Owlery wasn’t the same without her and each time you visited, you would break down into tears.

“You made it, early” George called out, pulling you out of your trip down memory lane, causing you to jump slightly.

You blinked back the forming tears and turned around to face him, the moonlight illuminating his best features through the open arches. “Didn’t want to be late” you replied, smiling nervously, stroking one of the owls.

“You were so little” George chuckled “but even after growing up so much somethings never change”

You cocked up an eyebrow and smirked, slightly confused “what do you mean?”

“The owls” he replied “your love for them, the time you make for them, it’s beautiful”

You could feel your cheeks heating up, your heart rate elevating.

“They’re special to me” you replied, trying not to come across as too shy.

George blushed too, his cheeks mirroring yours as he stepped closer, so close you could count each individual freckle across his face - something you had only done from across the halls or over the table.

“that’s why I asked for us to meet here,” George said softly, stepping closer to you, his breath brushing against you “because you’re special to me”

George took hold of your hand, tracing stars into your palm with his thumb, his eyes taking in your hair, your makeup, your outfit, and shoes. He started to lean in, as did you, your soft lips brushing against his cinnamon scented ones, but pulled away before you could share a kiss, smirking and winking at you.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he said nervously “I’ve been trying to give her to you for a while now, but whenever I’ve tried, Ron always got in the way”

You rolled your eyes “he always does” you replied “he doesn’t like the idea of us being together” you frowned, looking away from George and lowering your head, deciding to examine your shoes.

George lifted your chin up with his thumb, smiling at you “he doesn’t have to know” he paused “stay very quiet and follow me” he whispered, still holding your hand.

George walked you over to a very tired looking owl, her wings and body covering something small underneath her. George whispered to the owl “It’s George, she’s ready now”

The tired owl opened her googly eyes, staring at George, slowly and reluctantly moving away from her precious possession underneath her motherly wings. Underneath the wings lay a tiny owlet, its large magnificent eyes opening wide and staring at George, then you.

“I know he’ll never replace Penny” George murmured, wrapping his arm around you “but I want you to have a safe space here, I know how much of that Penny provided for you and I know how much of that changed when she passed away.”

You reached out your hand to stroke the baby, “it’s okay” you reassured his nervous mother “I’m not going to hurt him”

You ran the back of your finger down the Owlets fluffy back, its face showing signs of enjoyment and comfort, something rare amongst owls.

George watched in awe, the memories of you when you were much shorter and quieter flashing before him, now you were a beautiful young woman, with the same heart full of love and nurturing.

Tears of happiness streamed down your cheeks, you leaned into George and cuddled him, your face pressed against his chest, the scent of the burrow engulfing you.

“George - I - thank you, he’s beautiful”

George closed his eyes, taking in your face against his chest, his hand stroking your hair.

“I care for you, Y/N” he spoke out again “I know we were never that close, but you’re not just my little brother's friend to me”

You pulled yourself off his chest, looking up into his gorgeous eyes.

“like these owls, you’re unique, you’re special” he whispered.

“What’s your obsession with these owls anyway?” the tall boy asked, fiddling with his fake report.

“They’re unique” you replied quietly, walking around “they’re special”

George looked down into your eyes, his nose poking yours softly, leaning in, you didn’t pull back and allowed him to pull you gently into him.

His heart and yours racing, as your hand rested upon his chest, and his arm around your waist, your lips grazing against each other, turning into a deep, soft kiss.

Tag list: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @slutforsebstan @alwaysnforeverfangirl @horrorxweasley @xmalfoyweasleyx @freddiemylovelg 

[nowandajenn]

Blue Christmas-Seven

 Pairing: Chris Evans/OC Kelly

Summary: After almost three years of marriage, everyone would tell you that Chris and his wife Kelly are the most stable, solid couple they know. But behind closed doors, things are tense as they keep trying for a baby, to no avail. When a secret threatens to shake their solid marriage to it’s core, will they be able to pick up the pieces?

Warnings: major angst, language

I do not consent to have my content, whether it be this story or anything else of my creation, posted by a third party on any other platform other than right here without my permission. This blog is 18+ and is not intended for minors. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Heed the warnings.

*this chapter has been completely rewritten.

Christmas Day

One day I’ll wake up and I won’t want to immediately feel like I’m going to die. Today is not that day, apparently. 

When I blink my eyes open, the very first thing I see is Dodger’s furry face. He’s laying on the bed next to be with his head on my chest, staring intently at me like he’s been waiting for me to wake up. He does this constantly to Chris and I, and we always find it hilarious. 

“Hi, baby.” I whisper, my voice hoarse from all the crying and the whiskey last night. I’m in our bed and to my immense relief, I’m dressed in a pair of soft sweats and a T shirt, which I have no memory of putting on. 

After we got back here last night, I went straight to the liquor cabinet and poured us both a drink and put on A Muppet Christmas Carol and cried and bitched and ranted about how much of a bitch my mom was, and Chris just kept quiet and let me vent. At some point I remember almost falling asleep on the couch and Chris nudging me awake, and then....nothing. 

I glance over at the nightstand and see that Chris plugged my cell phone in for me to charge overnight and there’s Advil and a gatorade sitting there. I don’t know how much good Advil is going to do since it feels like there’s an elephant sitting on my head, but what the hell. 

After peeing and brushing my teeth and hair to at least appear somewhat human, I make my way to the kitchen and stop in my tracks. Lisa is standing at the stove making what looks and smells like french toast and bacon, and there’s coffee brewing. Chris is sitting at the dining room table (after the debauchery that occurred on top of it a week ago, I’m sincerely hoping that Chris went at it with a ton of Lysol) looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. 

My fight or flight urge kicks in and I’m two paces into going back into the bedroom when I feel something soft but sturdy hit me in the back. 

In a flash, Dodger is at my feet, devouring the croissant that Lisa threw at me. 

“Not so fast. Get in here.” Lisa says. The look on her face and the tone of her voice leaves no room for argument. I turn back around and walk into the kitchen, leaning in to give Lisa a hug. 

“I’m sorry. I should have called.” I say softly. 

“Yeah, you should have. But that’s not why I’m here.”

The food finishes a a few minutes later and I help her plate it up and bring it to the table. Once we’re all seated, Lisa looks from me to Chris. 

“So, who wants to tell me what the hell has been going on the past few weeks?”

“Mom-” Chris starts. 

“No, save it. Something big is going on, and you’ve been lying to me about it. And I know you’re lying because you suck at it. And Scott knows what’s going on because every time I ask him about it, he looks like he’s about to puke. Now here’s what I know: you guys apparently had a fight. Kelly’s been staying with her brother in the city. I can’t get either one of you to tell me anything, which is a HUGE red flag, because neither of you have ever been shy about coming to me about anything. Now what is going on?”

I lace my fingers together and rest my fists under my chin. 

I know this is going to kill Chris. And it’s going to kill Lisa. And it’s going to kill me to have to fucking hear the words come out of his mouth again. And there’s a good possibility that Lisa will kill Chris, or at the very least beat the piss out of him.There’s a whole lot of killing that’s going to happen. 

Chris looks at me with such a profound sadness in his eyes that it nearly breaks my heart. 

“Just tell her. Get it over with.” I say sadly. 

“The reason Kelly hasn’t been here is because......” I watch as his eyes shine with tears and his adams apple bobs up and down in his throat. I close my eyes and try and brace myself for the words that brought my world down a few weeks ago. “I slept with someone. I cheated on her.” Lisa’s jaw drops and she looks to Chris, who’s barely keeping it together and then to me, my jaw clenched tight and my eyes closed. 

Seconds pass without a sound. Then a minute. Then two. 

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

Her gaze swings to me and I can see her eyes brimming with tears. She reaches across the table and grabs my hand, squeezing it tightly. 

“I didn’t want anyone to find out until after the holidays. I didn’t want to ruin anyone’s Christmas.” I say softly. 

I watch Chris swallow thickly. 

“Honey-”

“No. You don’t get to talk right now. You were raised better than this. I raised you to be better than this. I’ve been proud of you you’re entire life, but right now.....right now I’m so disappointed in you I can barely stand it.”

I take my coffee and my plate up to my office on the second floor, not wanting to be there or listen as Lisa lays into Chris. As it is, I can still hear her yelling without hearing what’s being said. 

I knew everything was going to come out sooner or later. I just really wished that it would happen after the holidays. Between the disaster with my family last night, I guess it’s only fair that Chris has his turn. 

There’s a knock on the door as I’m finishing my coffee, and Lisa opens the door a bit, and I can tell that she’s been crying. 

“I don’t even know what to say.” she tells me softly as she takes a seat in the comfy armchair in the room. 

“I don’t know if there’s really anything TO say.” I whisper. 

“Honey, why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you talk to me? You didn’t have to go through this all by yourself.” 

I pull my feet up on my chair and wrap my arms around my knees and look up at her. 

“I could barely begin to process any of it myself. When he told me, I kind of just went on autopilot. I didn’t want to be alone; part of me was afraid of what would happen if I was alone. I knew that if I went to you or Shanna or Carly or any of our friends, it would all come out, and I wasn’t ready for that. I couldn’t stay here with him. So I fled to Connor’s. I kind of trashed the studio, then just shut down. That’s why Scott knows. Connor called him because I physically couldn’t get out of bed for four days. He came to check on me and laid with me for a few hours. I was ashamed. I AM ashamed.”

“Kelly, the only person here who should be ashamed is my son. He didn’t tell me any of the details, and honestly, I don’t want to know. I don’t know what the hell was going on in his head. I am so, so sorry about everything. I just....I can’t believe any of this.”

A thought pops into my head and I turn to her. 

“How did you know I was here?” I ask. 

“I didn’t. I had Scott start on dinner for today, and I came over, determined to get the truth out of Chris once and for all, no matter what. He told me you were here sleeping. He gave me the Cliffs Notes version of what happened at your parents’ last night.” 

I scoff and roll my eyes. “Yeah, it was one for the books. I just couldn’t be around any of them last night. I just wanted to be here, at home.”

“What about now? Where do you want to be now?” Lisa asks. 

“I don’t know. I’m so sorry for all of this happening on Christmas. I hate feeling like the holiday is ruined. I hate that you and Chris are fighting. I hate that Scott and Chris are fighting. I just wish we could have a nice Christmas and just pretend that everything is normal.” I tell her. 

She takes my hands in hers and rubs them, warming them up. 

“If that’s what you want, that’s what we can do. God knows I could wring Chris’ neck right now, but it’s Christmas. If you think you can handle it, and handle everyone, we can do it. I’ll hold everyone off on the questions for today. But you know eventually.....you and Chris are going to have to sit down and talk.”

“I know.”

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Kinktober 2020: @saiyanprincessswanie​ @superquirky-blog

[nicknellie]

Anonymous requested: roommates Alex and Willie share a bed on the night of a storm and it becomes a habit, resulting with a confession and a kiss. (This was edited/simplified just to make it shorter.)

Sorry this has taken me so long to get round to! I absolutely loved the request and it was a joy to write, especially since I’m so stuck in my JatP feels for the anniversary. I’m always a sucker for a one bed trope too! I really hope you like it, thanks for the request!

Raging Storms and Lovesick Hearts

There were times that Alex wasn’t sure if moving in with Willie was the best decision he’d ever made or the worst. In many ways, it was a decision he would never go back on – living with Luke and Reggie had been fun during the day, but apparently neither of them had ever heard of sleep and decided to make that Alex’s problem, so now that he lived with Willie it was nice to finally know what it felt like to be well-rested. It was also great because he got to spend much more time with Willie, something he’d craved for as long as he’d known him.

But that was also sort of the worst thing about it all.

Being around Willie all the time was beginning to drive Alex a little bit insane. Not in a bad way, it wasn’t like he felt stifled or had grown bored or frustrated by Willie’s near-constant presence in his life. If anything, it was the opposite. Nowadays, he got to see every version of Willie, not just the smiley, put-together version he saw when they met up on odd weekends. Now he got to see tired Willie, just rolled out of bed, still unsteady on his feet from sleep; he saw even more of the kind, generous, fair Willie who offered to do the dishes whenever Alex cooked dinner; he saw the childishly exhausted Willie who crashed on the couch and slept for three hours every time he got back from the skatepark; he saw adorably sleepy Willie at night when it was nearing midnight and he was reluctantly going to bed, eyes already drooping closed; he saw paint-splattered Willie, brushes tucked behind his ears and shoved into his hair, headphones in, working tirelessly on some big piece that Alex admired every stage of; sometimes, he saw a version of Willie that made his heart ache, a broken version of Willie with tears running down his cheeks as he wiped furiously at his eyes as Alex did everything in his power to console him. He saw every version of Willie and he wanted them all so badly, but he couldn’t have any of them.

And sure, he’d brought this upon himself. When the guy he’d been pining over for exactly one year had asked if he wanted to move in, he could have guessed that it would ruin him, and he could have said no. It would’ve been easy.

But Alex had seen the smile on Willie’s face, the excited glint in his eye about the prospect of living together, and his affirmative answer had been out of his mouth before he’d given it a second thought. He was paying the price for his thoughtlessness now, condemned to watch Willie be anything but his for as long as they lived together. Frankly the whole thing was exhausting – he had to wonder if that was adding to him getting a good night’s sleep every night.

There was another reason he preferred nights now, not just because he could rest easily. Night was the only time he didn’t see Willie, the only time he could get a little respite from his aching heart, lie alone in the dark and pretend he was the only person on Earth. Maybe it was a little lonely and more than a little sad to think of things that way, but it was a change from his usual pining at the very least. He thought that having that time to escape his feelings was definitely doing him some good.

Until the night of the storm.

There had been warnings about it all week. Alerts popping up on Alex’s phone, breaking news plastered on every TV he saw, articles about finding shelter and stocking up on food just in case the storm was worse than they thought. It was only supposed to be a passing thing, been and gone overnight, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

It had been raining all day, a dismal drizzle, the kind of rain that was so fine you didn’t realise you were soaked until you felt your clothes sticking to your skin. But around midnight, everything kicked off. Alex lay in bed, toying with a fraying thread on the duvet cover, listening to the rain hammering against the windows hard enough to rattle their frames, the wind whistling as it bled through the streets outside, the claps of thunder loud enough to deafen as they came just seconds after bursts of lightning illuminated his entire room. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bit frightened, but he curled up tighter in his bed, pulling the covers close, and tried to force sleep.

A knocking sound made his eyes snap open. At first, he wondered if he’d imagined it, or if it was the sound of something hitting his window, but then it came again. And yes, it was definitely a knock. A knock at his bedroom door. A knock on his bedroom door at half-midnight in the middle of a storm. And there was only one person it could be.

Alex stretched as he swung his long legs out of the bed and flicked his bedside lamp on. He pulled open the bedroom door, squinting in the sudden burst of light from the hallway, and was met by a timid-looking Willie with his hair braided back, wearing his pyjamas, fist still sheepishly raised as if to knock on the door again.

“Hey,” Alex said, voice low with fatigue. He tried to stifle a yawn as he scrunched his eyes, forcing the tiredness out of them. “Is everything okay?”

He must have not hidden his exhaustion as well as he’d tried because Willie winced before saying, “Sorry. Did I wake you up?”

“No, no,” Alex assured him, “I couldn’t sleep anyway. The storm is too loud.” Willie nodded awkwardly, casting his gaze around, seemingly trying to look anywhere but at Alex. It was strange – Willie wasn’t the type to avoid talking to someone, especially if it was Alex, who was suddenly left feeling very concerned. “Is it… Is that why you’re awake too?”

“Kind of,” Willie replied, a half-smile on his face that quickly flickered out of existence. He shook his head, taking a few steps back. “It’s silly. Don’t worry about it actually. I’ll go back to my room. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“Hey, no,” Alex protested, clutching Willie’s wrist as he tried to turn and walk away, stopping him in his tracks. Willie didn’t turn to face him, but did stop trying to leave, so Alex took that as a victory. “You could never bother me. And whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not silly.”

Slowly, Willie turned back around to face him, some mixture of hope and nervousness dancing in his eyes. When Willie looked down again, Alex followed his line of sight and saw that he still had a hold of Willie’s wrist. He dropped it suddenly, instantly aware that he’d been holding on too long and if he wasn’t careful Willie might take that to mean something that Alex definitely couldn’t have him knowing which would introduce a whole different kind of storm. (But before he let go, he could have sworn he felt Willie’s pulse racing; maybe it was his nerves, but maybe it was something else… something Alex didn’t want to get his hopes up about.)

“It’s just… I’m not really great with storms,” Willie admitted softly, meeting Alex’s eyes again. “They freak me out. I was just going to ask if I could… if I could, you know, sleep in here with you tonight? If it’s totally out of line you can say no, I get it, man, I won’t be up–”

Alex shook his head, not wanting to let him spiral, knowing that never ended up well for anyone. There was a pretty major part of him panicking over the fact that Willie was going to spend the night in his room, but that part was outweighed by the even bigger part of him that was worried and concerned for Willie, the part of him that wanted to protect Willie at all costs.

“No, no, it’s alright,” he said, interrupting Willie before he got too lost in his own head. “Come on, you can sleep in here. I don’t mind.”

It was only as the two of them backed into the room and Alex shut the door, blocking out all the light from the hallway and leaving them dimly lit by just his bedside lamp, that Alex remembered that his room was very small and ill-equipped for impromptu sleepovers. Which was to say, there was only one bed.

His internal panicking doubled in an instant. Because there weren’t many options here. He could make Willie sleep on the floor, which seemed incredibly harsh and unfair considering the state he’d just come to Alex in. He could sleep on the floor himself, which he really didn’t want to do because it would be cold down there and he didn’t like the idea of being able to see underneath his bed. They could relocate to Willie room down the hall where there was a small sofa that one of them (probably Alex) could sleep on, and they’d still be in the same room, but he knew they were both tired and switching rooms sounded like a lot of effort. Which just left sharing the bed, and truth be told, Alex was utterly terrified by the idea.

He was about to say something, ask Willie what he thought the best course of action was, but the words died in his mouth as he saw that Willie was already climbing into the bed. He already seemed much more at ease, the worry lines around his face softening as he closed his eyes. After yet another brief panic, Alex got into the bed again and laid down beside him.

He could hardly hear the raging storm over the incessant beating of his own lovesick heart.

The whole thing felt so intimate even though there was nothing overtly intimate about it. Really it was just one friend helping another, Alex being there for Willie when he was frightened, lending him a bed and a comforting presence. But they were so close, touching all along one side of Alex’s body, their breathing synced, the world around them slowly fading into nothingness until it was just the two of them.

After some time, it was impossible to tell exactly how long, Willie said, “Thank you, Alex.”

Alex sighed quietly, letting his eyes fall closed. He shuffled ever so slightly closer to Willie on the bed and as his tiredness overtook him he lost a little control over his inhibitions. Before he knew it, he’d thrown an arm around Willie’s waist, holding him close, their bodies curled together. When he registered what he’d done, he almost pulled away, but Willie relaxed into him so he let his arm stay where it was.

“Don’t mention it,” Alex whispered to the darkness around them. “I’m always going to be here whenever you need me.”

In moments, they were both asleep, the storm still raging outside.

*

When Alex woke up the next morning, the storm had all but died. He could still hear the gentle pitter-patter of rain drumming on the windows and roof, but the wind had long since ceased, as had the thunder and lightning that had lit up the night. He exhaled contentedly, relaxing against the warmth on the left side of his body, and nearly drifted off to sleep.

But then he realised what – or rather who – that warmth was.

The events from the night before came flooding back to his with all the ferocity of the storm itself. Willie coming to him in the middle of the night, how frightened he had seemed, how Alex had offered up his room, and how they’d fallen asleep tangled together. Now they had woken up in the exact same way, and Alex had no idea what to do about it.

If he moved, he risked waking Willie and that was a conversation he would rather avoid. But if he stayed still, Willie would eventually wake up and he’d still have to have that awkward ‘remember last night’ conversation. There was really no winning here. Even in a situation where he was cuddling the love of his life, he couldn’t come out unscathed.

So, he went for the slightly immature third option and opted to feign sleep, letting the whole thing be Willie’s problem whenever he woke up.

And eventually he did, not long after Alex. When Alex felt him stir and stretch, he tried to slow his breathing, keep his eyes closed only gently, and even let out a few fake little snores to try and sell the piece. His eyes were closed, so he had no idea if Willie even looked at him, but moments later Willie slipping out from his grasp and Alex heard the tell-tale creak of his bedroom door. Only when he heard it click shut did he breathe a long sigh of relief.

Honestly, he had thought that would be it. One night together and then Alex could get back to his nights of peaceful sleep. Only there were two things in the way of that:

One – suddenly, without Willie sleeping in his bed, Alex found that sleep was much harder to come by.

Two – after that night, Willie slept in Alex’s bed more often than not.

Alex really had no idea how it became so routine, but it did. About a week after the storm, Willie knocked on his door again and told Alex he’d had a nightmare, asking to sleep in his bed again. And who was Alex to refuse? So they’d slept in the same bed again, they’d woken up a tangle of limbs, and Willie had crept out while Alex pretended to sleep.

Then just two nights later, Alex’s resolve had broken and something had possessed him to go to Willie’s room and invite him back to his own. He had made up some flimsy excuse, something about his heater having broken and him needing warmth, but Willie hadn’t questioned it. They’d slept in the same bed again, they’d woken up a tangle of limbs, and Willie had crept out while Alex pretended to sleep.

And the very next night, they hadn’t even discussed it before the two of them just went straight to Alex’s room and climbed into bed together. They’d slept in the same bed again, woken up a tangle of limbs, and Willie had crept out while Alex pretended to sleep.

For something so focused on sleep, it was ridiculously tiring.

After it had gone on for a few weeks, Alex had to wonder if maybe this whole thing meant something. If maybe he wasn’t alone in his feelings. If maybe Willie felt the same, but had similar hang-ups to Alex – he didn’t want to ruin their friendship, didn’t want to embarrass himself by admitting to unrequited love, didn’t even know how to bring it up. Maybe sleeping by each other’s side had become something of a safety net for them, a teetering middle ground on the border of friendship and something else entirely.

And as Alex lay awake, head rested on Willie’s chest, listening to his heartbeat, he knew suddenly that he had to push it. No matter how much that frightened him, he had to take that leap and push them into the uncertain territory that was something other than friendship.

When he sensed Willie waking up, he did not pretend to be asleep.

He eased his head off Willie’s chest and rolled over to lay on his front, watching Willie as he blinked awake endearingly. Alex’s heart was practically beating out of his chest, but he knew he had to do it. He had to take that leap.

“Good morning,” he said quietly.

Willie smiled gently, rubbing at his tired eyes and pushing his hair out of his face. “Good morning, hotdog.”

“I think we need to talk,” Alex said without preamble. It wasn’t the most natural segue into the matter at hand, but that hardly seemed to matter right then.

Willie blinked, clearly a little surprised, but then he nodded. Alex took a deep breath, steeling himself, and let it out.

“I really like you, Willie,” he said, maintaining eye contact even though it was the most petrifying thing he’d ever done. “Like, a lot. So much that it’s been kind of driving me crazy for a year now. I’ve wanted to tell you how I feel for about a year now, but every time I tried all this doubt and anxiety just told me it wasn’t worth it and that you could never like me the way I like you. And I believed it. I never said anything, and I fooled myself into thinking I’d be alright if we were just friends. But after all this, sharing a bed almost every night and then pretending it never happened… it’s proved to me how much I need you. I can’t sleep without you next to me, Willie. I want you by my side all the time. All of you. So, if I’m not reading this whole thing dramatically wrong, then I want to finally ask you to… to be my boyfriend.”

For a long moment, Willie said nothing. He held eye contact, like he was searching Alex’s eyes for the truth, whatever it might have been. But Alex had said the whole truth. He’d let it all out, he’d told Willie he needed him. All he could do was hope that Willie needed him too.

The moment ended abruptly when Willie breathed out and almost silent, “Yes,” and then surged forward to kiss Alex.

He was kissing him.

This was a possibility that Alex had never allowed himself to entertain, a thought he’d never followed up, a scenario he’d never imagined. He had known that once he thought about kissing Willie, he would be ruined if it never happened. But the real thing was better than anything Alex could have thought up in his wildest dreams anyway. It was like a muffled explosion – both harsh and soft, near and far, dangerous and safe.

When they separated, Alex rested his forehead against Willie’s trying to get his breath back and his heartrate under control.

“I’d been wondering if I should say something,” Willie chuckled, stroking his fingers through Alex’s hair. “You beat me to it.”

Alex smiled and pressed another soft kiss to Willie’s lips. “Doesn’t matter. We got there eventually.”

The next morning when they both woke up in Alex’s bed, Alex didn’t need to feign sleep. He pressed a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek and pulled him tighter. He thought that after months of missed opportunities, they definitely deserved a lazy morning in bed together.

[angstymarauder]

Arch Enemies {M.M}

Marlene McKinnon x Female!reader ; marauders era

summary: where two long-time rivals realize how thin the line between love and hate really are after an unfortunate quidditch incident.

word count: 3.4k ish

contains: angst, fluff, a heated kiss?, side of wolfstar,

a/n: i didn’t re-read it bc I'm lazy. Also if people could drop some wlw angsty harry potter recs that would be phenomenal.

· · · ∞ · · · · · · ∞ · · · · · · ∞ · · · · · · ∞ · · ·

Marlene McKinnon has been your rival since as far back in your Hogwarts years as you can remember. Always at each other’s heads. Always a competition between the two of you. Always striving to be better than the other.

The two of you made just about everything a competition. Chess Matches. Pranking. Grades. Eating. Walking. Detentions (you almost got kicked out of Hogwarts that year.)

Anything that could somehow be made competitive, you two competed. And while you tended to beat her with grades, she often beat you in things that took place outside of the classroom.

The Marauders, apparently, have been placing bets and keeping track of your wins against one another. Lily even claims that one time she walked into their room unexpectedly and caught them writing on a poster on their wall that had both your names in big letters on each side and a series of tallies below each with dates and event names on the bottom, but as soon as they saw her one of them casted a spell to make it disappear.

This year was no different. You knew it was stupid to believe that maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to try out for the quidditch team without Marlene fighting you for the same spot. You have no real desire to be on the quidditch team, quite honestly, but your older siblings play quidditch, your parents played quidditch, your aunts, your uncles, your cousins, your grandparents, your great-grandparents.

You have a quidditch family and you do not want to can not disappoint them.

The hope that Marlene may leave you alone for this one was shattered, as you expected it to be, when you walk into the team's locker room, a bag of quidditch gear in your hand. “Y/L” Marlene spoke as soon as her eyes met yours. Her eyes widened more than usual, a change most people don’t notice, but then again, you’re not most people. You know Marlene better than anyone else, you’ve memorized the meaning of every look in her eyes, every curve of her lips, every flick of her hands. You know her brain, how she works, what she is thinking, for the most part at least because right now you found yourself momentarily confused by the surprise lacing her voice. Why is she so surprised? Did she not expect you to be there? Your thoughts are cut short when the blonde standing at the other side of the room clears her throat in an attempt to reactive her favorite tone of voice when speaking to you, cockiness, “you going for the beater position too?”

“Yea,” you respond, walking over to one of the lockers.

“May the best player win,” you continued unpacking your bag, putting on the final touches to your uniform, but you didn’t need to look at her to know that she was smirking as she spoke, you could hear it clear enough in her voice.

She awaited a snarky response from you, you know that, but you didn’t want to waste your energy on a catfight right now. Your anxiety is already through the roof, there is enough pressure on you at the moment that you feel like your brain physically cannot handle any more conflict, so you ignore her.

Her eyes burn holes into your body as you continue to pull your knee pads on. Eventually, the door opens and you listen to her steps as she walks out of the locker room, closing the door with a slam and leaving you all alone.

It’s not long before you’re 100% ready for tryouts. You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror for a moment before leaving. Taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm your nerves. Calm your mind. It helps a little bit, but maybe not enough.

· · · ∞ · · ·

“Y/L! Watch out!” is the last thing you hear before everything goes black.

The tryouts were going great, James was the captain this year and after stealing a glance at his little sheet, you could tell that you were going to beat Marlene out for this spot.

You should’ve been happier with that knowledge than you were, but somewhere deep down you almost wanted Marlene to beat you. This wasn't what you wanted and by the look in her eyes, you knew that this was what she wanted. A strange feeling arose in your chest each time she looked at you during tryouts, her eyes conveyed a message you hadn’t seen her wear yet and all you wanted to do was decode it. To understand why her eyes looked… sad? Almost. Like she knew you were going to beat her and she was upset about it. She’s never been upset before, always a team player. She took her losses as they came and just vowed to beat you next time. But for some reason… for some reason this was different.

· · · ∞ · · ·

Marlene’s Pov:

You looked so pretty. Flyaway hairs and a look of determination on your face as you swatted away Bludgers so effortlessly. She loved quidditch, but she wasn't as good as you. Jealous, not because you’ll win whatever competition the two of you are probably making out of this, but jealous because she knows she won’t get the position she’s been working her ass off for. Lost in thought she doesn't even notice the bludger coming towards her, luckily she hits it just in time, but then… Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Marlene watched as the bludger tumbled straight towards you, “Y/L! Watch out,” was all she could get in before it hit you right in the head.

· · · ∞ · · ·

The first thing you felt when you woke up was an intense pounding in your skill that caused an unconscious groan to leave your mouth. As you increasingly became aware your head began hurting more and more. You went to bring your hand up to rub your eyes in an attempt to wake yourself up when you felt another hand on yours. Opening your eyes only increased your headache, but the desire to know whose hand was holding yours overruled the pain. Their hand was soft, warm, it felt like … like home. That's the only word you could find in this pain-forsaken state to properly describe the feeling.

The blur of a person who held your hand made you think you were crazy. You found yourself blinking a few times in attempts to clear your vision, not initially trusting your eyes and barely trusting them now as you see Marlene McKinnon's hand, holding yours.

Marlene McKinnon.

Your arch-nemesis?

The one who practically hates you?

Yea… her.

What the fuck.

Why is she holding your hand… and why do you never want her to let go?

You can feel your lips curve up into an unconscious smile as you stare at the place where her hand connects with yours before roaming your eyes up to her figure to her sleeping face being held up by her other hand, elbow resting on her armchair next to your bed. She looks so peaceful, so beautiful, and you wonder why you’ve never noticed how gorgeous she was before. How her lips look so soft and her skin so smooth. The way the waning gibbous moonlight shines into the room from the large infirmary windows and lights her face up in a way you’ve never seen in before and in that moment you want nothing more than to stare at her face like that forever. You don’t even notice your other hand moving up to touch her face until you hear a voice whisper from a few beds over from yours. “Oh, you’re up.” Startled, you feel like you were just caught committing a crime and immediately pull your hand back to where it was before. Marlene shifts in her sleep from your quick movements and you’re watching this moment slip through your fingers, silently begging whatever runs the universe to let you stay in this moment just a little bit longer. Thankfully, they answer and Marlene stills, returning to her peaceful sleep. “Don’t worry, Lils says she sleeps like a log.”

You giggle at these words, turning to face Remus with a smile, “yea, she does. We can never get her up in the morning.” “It’s the same with Sirius. He never wants to wake up.” The two of you giggle quietly, afraid to wake up anyone in the castle this late at night, especially the girl sitting beside you. You talk about Remus first, asking if the full moon the night before was really that bad that Pomfrey made him stay overnight again and if he's okay. He assures you that he is fine and redirects the conversation to you, “What about you? Are you okay?”

“I don’t even know what happened to me,” you tell him, “or why my head hurts so much or why M-” you pause, now looking at the girl. You’re scared of speaking the words out loud, afraid it may reveal that her presence is only a dream or a figment of your imagination and that you will sound crazy if you speak about it.

“Or why Marlene is here, holding your hand.” Remus finishes your sentence.

“Or that.” you turn your gaze back to Remus, now wishing the moon was a little darker so your close friend can’t see the blush that is surely on your face.

“Well to answer your first questions,” started Remus, “You got hit with a bludger during tryouts, Marlene and Sirius rushed u in here while I was taking a nap - thanks for that by the way”

“Sorry” you giggled

“- and then Sirius went back to practice, as for McKinnon there, she refused to leave. I think she feels bad cause she's the one that hit you. Pomfrey said you probably have a concussion which means you can’t … well you can’t play quidditch this year.” You should be focusing on the quidditch part, it was something you were working so hard for, but you can’t stop your mind from trailing off to her. Is she only here because she feels bad? Or is there more to it? You hope it's more. You’re not sure when these feelings came to fruition, but they’re there now and you’re worried about getting your hopes up because it means risking yourself getting let down.

“I think she likes you,” you take a minute to process the werewolves' words, glancing between the blonde’s head and her hand.

“You think so?” you say with a hopeful smile.

“I think she’s liked you since first year and you’re just too oblivious to realize it,” you look up with him, your confused face causing a slight chuckle to leave his lips, “I’m observant, you know that but it's not that difficult to see how in love you two are, even though you act like you hate each other. I think she knows what she feels,” you both glanced at the girl, “and I think you just figured out what you feel.”

You smile at his words. “I think you’re right,” you admit, too tired to be stubborn and reject what your heart says is a fact.

“Just wait till January to tell everyone please, I have a bet going with the boys and- “ Suddenly the door to the infirmary opens, Remus goes quiet with confusion and Marlen begins to stir from the noise. She’s really waking up this time, you immediately close your eyes, unsure of what else to do or even say to her. You can feel her eyes on your face, her hand holding yours. “Good morning sleepyhead,” remarked Remus. You curse out his name in your head as you feel Marlene’s hand immediately rip out of yours. All you want to do is look at her face, read her mind. Was she embarrassed? Ashamed? Your mind went to the worst.

“How’s the girlfriend?” marked a new voice, Sirius. Of course. Who else would come to the infirmary this late other than Sirius to check up on Remus?

“She’s not my girlfriend.” remarked Marlene, her tone sending a brief stab of pain through your own heart, “I don’t even like her,” another stab.

“Yea, okay, and Moonys not my werewolf boyfriend.” You would’ve laughed, hearing the noises of Remus hitting Sirius in response to his words, but your mind was stuck on the words of the girl who was still standing close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off her body.

“I don’t like her,” she said, her words laced with annoyance and anger, “In fact, I hate her. We’re literally enemies.”

“Then why are you here then?” Remus rebutted, he probably meant to be helpful, but the words she spoke next only made your heart ache more.

“Because I’m not a monster! I hit her with the bludger and I felt bad. That’s it. Nothing else.” you were almost thankful when you started to hear her moving around, collecting her stuff, tears were threatening to spill out of your eyes and you didn’t want her to see. “I’m tired so I’m going, goodbye.” And with that you waited, listening to the sounds of her footsteps, getting quieter with each moment. You listened to the opening and closing of the infirmary door and only dared to open your eyes again once you could no longer hear the clicking of her shoes down the hallway.

“You okay?” Remus spoke first, witnessing the silent tears now streaming down your face. You wish you stayed asleep. You wish you never looked at her. Never let yourself feel something you knew she wouldn’t reciprocate. You curse yourself for believing Remus’ hopeful words.

“Fine,” you spoke quietly before turning to your side, the back facing the two boys who get to share the kind of romance you find yourself only able to dream about.

“M’Sorry,” you heard Remus whisper, before the weight of your head and your heart lulled you into a dreamless sleep.

· · · ∞ · · ·

You woke up to Madam Pomfrey's voice urging you awake. Her soft voice reminded you of your mother and made you want to curl up into her arms and cry, Marlene's words last night still resting their weight on your chest. “How are you this morning, love?” she asks, placing a plate of food on the bedside table, you're thankful that she doesn't mention the tear stains that probably made their home on your cheeks last night.

“M’fine,” you mumble, “better.”

“Good, good,” she smiles, handing you a glass of water that you didn’t realize how much you needed until the whole glass was gone in a minute and Madam Pomfrey had to fetch you a new one. “Took a big hit yesterday, that Miss McKinnon has a good arm.” You hum in agreeance, an attempt to not be rude to the elder in front of you, but hearing her name still hurts, the wound of her words still leaving scars on your heart that haven’t even begun to scab. “Speaking of the devil,” the nurse spoke, your head raising up to see Marlene's figure entering the curtain that surrounded your bed. Her hair looked so soft, messier than you usually see it, but you liked it. You couldn’t stop your eyes from travelling down her face, taking in her beauty while she was awake. Bags plagued her beautiful brown eyes, she didn't sleep much last night. Your gaze moved to her lips, the same lips that unknowingly cut scars along your heart mere hours ago. Memories from the night before that you had allowed yourself to forget for a moment returned as fast as they left, returning the heartache that accompanies them. Suddenly, you found the hem of your shirt more interesting, keeping your gaze and your hands on that. “I’ll leave you two alone,” spoke Madam Pomfrey, ignoring the tension-filled silence that laid in the air, “I’d like to keep you here for a little while longer but you should be discharged by dinner,” and with that she left the two of you alone, your breaking heart not even strong enough to look at her.

“Hey,” she spoke first, breaking the silence, but not moving from her spot where she stood at the end of your bed. “Sorry I hit you with a bludger,” she tried to joke, but the tension was too thick that it was just awkward.

“Why are you here?” you ask, a sudden surge of bravery coming from the anger that stems from your sadness.

“Wh-What?”

“Why are you here?” “Because I feel bad? Because I'm not a total bitch and I care about you?” she remarks.

“Why do you care?” your voice grows louder, angrier than you want it, but you’re too stubborn to stop speaking now. “I can’t play anymore, you got the spot on the team, didn’t you? “I mean you said it yourself we’re enemies, right? You hate me?” you continue, repeating her words from last night. “So isn’t this what you wanted? You won. You beat me. Congratulations.”

“So you were eavesdropping?” she asks, her tone attempting to stay angry, but her eyes revealing that look you’re slowly seeing more and more often.

“It’s not eavesdropping if I’m lying right there.”

“Merlin, y/n, I don’t hate you!”

“Liar.”

“You’re so stubborn,” she yells, getting closer to your face.

“If you don’t hate me then why would you say it?” You sat up, both your voices were raising, anger surging through the air.

“Because I don’t hate you! I love you,” she yelled, and then everything went quiet. She loves me? Only now did you realize how close your faces were. Her lips were inches from yours, your ragged breaths intermingled with one another, both of you already exhausted from your previous argument. You looked up from her lips to her eyes, just to find them already staring into yours.

“You what?” you whispered so low that only she could hear it.

“ I-” her eyes were filled with fear. Fear that her feelings won’t be reciprocated. Fear to express the vulnerable emotion that has plagued her heart for how long? You don’t know. So you move forward and capture her lips in yours.

After the initial surprise, Marlene began to kiss you back, her hands finding the back of your neck and your head while yours found her hips. You broke apart too soon for your liking and she rested her forehead on yours. One of your hands moved to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear before speaking. “I love you too.” You watched as her eyes lit up with joy and you couldn’t help but smile. “I get a point on the leaderboard for admitting it first,” she chuckled.

“Mmhm,” you hummed in agreeance leaning forward again so your lips brushed against hers as you spoke, “but I get one for kissing you first.”

“Dammit,” she whispered, before leaning in for another kiss.

· · · ∞ · · ·

“So Gryffindor Beater, huh?” you asked Marlene. The two of you laid together in the infirmary bed, her back pressed up against half of your chest, your arm hanging around her shoulder twirling and untwirling her hair with your one hand while both her hands played with the fingers of your other.

“Yea, James said it’s mine if I want it, but I don’t need to take it if you don’t want me to.”

“No, merlin no,” you said quickly, “I know how much you want that spot, I barely even wanted it. Was only doing it because with my family I felt like I had to.”

“Really?” She looked up at you hopefully, “you don't mind.”

“Nope.” “Promise?”

“Promise.” She gave her a peck on the lips before turning her head around again. “Plus, you’re going to look so hot in that uniform, I feel like I’ll be the real winner in this situation.” Your words earn a loud laugh from the girl in your arms and you feel like you're on cloud 9. You place a quick kiss on her temple and want nothing more than to be the one to make her laugh for the rest of your lives. Lives that you hopefully get to spend together.

Meanwhile…

“Told you so,” he whispered.

“I should’ve kept my mouth shut,” the second boy groaned, placing coins into the other boy's outstretched hand.

“Yea, but look how cute they are, Moony the Matchmaker.”

“Oh shut up Padfoot,” he groaned, “I’m hungry, let's go to dinner.” “Whatever you say handsome,” barked the boy before looping arms with his lover and walking away from the two girls in the infirmary who looked utterly and completely infatuated with one another.

[refinedbuffoonery]

Quarantine Moments (5)

This is my two favorite things in one: space stuff and making these pining idiots feel things, so it ended up being way longer than I intended. Oops. Enjoy some meteor shower shenanigans. :) 

*****

It’ll be fun, they promise. 

We don’t need a tent, they say.  We’ll sleep in the bed of the truck, they say. We’ll all fit, they say. 

It’ll be fun, they promise again. 

Riley knows better than to take “It’ll be fun” at face value. Especially when it comes out of Mac’s mouth. 

Five months into quarantine, when Riley’s favorite space nerds ask if she wants to drive out to the desert to watch a meteor shower, she agrees immediately. It’s a quick out and back trip. The plan is to have an early dinner, drive out to the desert for the night, and leave early in the morning before the August sun cooks them alive. Riley balks at their plan to sleep in the truck instead of a tent—sleeping in a truck bed always hurts, no matter how many blankets and pillows there are—but the boys’ excitement is infectious, and Riley can’t bring herself to say no. 

They argue about where in the desert to go. Mac wants to drive all the way to Death Valley, but Riley and Bozer shoot it down immediately. A four hour car ride is too far for an overnight trip. Then Bozer suggests Joshua Tree, but Mac claims it’s too popular. (Like there will be flocks of tourists there during a pandemic, but whatever.) So Riley forces them to compromise on Anza Borrego. It’s farther than J Tree, but not nearly as far as Death Valley, and they can pick up breakfast burritos in San Diego on their way home. 

Mac and Bozer never object to breakfast burritos. 

The boys do all the planning and preparation, so when Mac tosses Riley the keys to the truck, she’s almost surprised. “You’re driving,” he says. “Bozer’s in the back.” 

“Man, why am I always in the back?” Bozer complains. 

“Because Riley is a better driver than you.” Content to let them bicker, Riley smirks and starts the engine. 

“No,” Bozer corrects from the middle seat, “Riley is a faster driver. Not better.” 

At the same time, Riley and Mac both say, “Same thing.” 

“Unbelievable.” 

The drive goes much faster with Riley behind the wheel, although she refrains from rubbing it in. The sky shifts from lavender to deep blue to inky black as they drive away from the setting sun. 

It always amazes Riley that they can be so close to SoCal’s endless suburban sprawl, and yet be in the absolute middle of nowhere.

The moon is barely more than a sliver in the sky, and when they drop down into the desert, the vast darkness swallows the headlight beams. Riley rolls her window down, feeling the dry, balmy air caress her cheeks and neck. 

She figured someone else would have the same idea as them, but there isn’t another human soul as far as Riley can see. Even farther, most likely. 

When Riley gets out of the truck, the first thing she does is look up. The sky isn’t black at all, but rather a deep indigo alight with more stars than she could count in a thousand lifetimes. The Milky Way arcs overhead, and Riley’s eyes track it from one end of the horizon to another. It makes her feel small. 

It’s comforting, Riley thinks, to be reminded of her insignificance in the grand scheme of the universe, a welcome break from the constant world-ending consequences of her daily life. 

The trio get to work making their bed for the night. Mac’s two-person camping mattress goes down first, then the pillows and blankets. They didn’t even bother to bring sleeping bags since the nighttime temperature would only dip into the mid-seventies. 

Riley finds a tumbleweed near the front of the truck to pee behind before joining Mac and Bozer in the back. They’re lying on opposite sides of the truck bed, leaving as much space as possible for her in the middle. Realizing how close she’ll be to Mac, Riley takes a deep, steadying breath, grateful that it’s too dark for the boys to see her face. She should’ve begged Bozer to take the middle when she had the chance. 

Cursing herself for wearing booty shorts and a tank top, Riley tries not to notice how her bare skin brushes Mac’s as she squeezes into her spot. She blushes anyway. There is definitely not room for three people. They should’ve just brought the damn tent. 

She misses the days when she could be in Mac’s personal space without every nerve in her body being acutely aware of how close he is. Everything was so much easier then. 

Covering herself in one of the thinner blankets—more for comfort and security than anything else—Riley sinks into the pillows and looks up. She knows the Perseids originate from the constellation Perseus, but there are so many stars that she gets lost trying to orient herself in the sky. As she opens her mouth to ask for help, a bright silver light zips across the horizon, gone in less than a second. 

“Did you see that?” Bozer squeals. 

Riley laughs softly. “Yeah, but I have no idea where it came from, or where I should be looking.” 

It’s Bozer’s turn to laugh. “For starters, don’t look straight up. Look near the horizon.” He points toward a random spot in the distance, his hand a dark shadow covering the glittering sea beyond. “As Perseus gets higher in the sky during the night, the meteors will appear to come from higher up too.” 

Riley nods before realizing he’s not paying attention. “Thanks.” 

As she studies the heavens, the sense of ease settles over her once again. Riley feels her body start to let go of the stress she’s been holding onto for months—the awkwardness of living with Mac, the endless pile of work stuff she has no motivation to do, worrying about her mom and Bozer’s parents, waking up every morning to increasingly batshit news headlines. Out here, she can escape, if only for a few hours. 

Riley catches three meteors in quick succession, each darting across the sky in a completely different direction. Mac hasn’t said a word since they laid down, so when Bozer gets up to pee, Riley nudges him with her knee and says, “You’ve been quiet.” 

Mac doesn’t look at her as he speaks, his gaze locked on something straight overhead. “Ancient Chinese astronomers believed Vega and Altair were lovers, forever kept apart by the Milky Way.” He points. “Vega is one of the brightest stars in the sky. It’s in the constellation Lyra. And over there is Altair, which is part of Aquila, the eagle.” 

Riley hesitates, trying to separate fact from innuendo. A pit forms in her stomach as she understands why he’s drawn to these stars in particular. 

Mac must mistake her silence for being unable to find the stars, because suddenly his arms are around her and he’s pulling her toward him so her head rests on his shoulder. 

His touch feels like stars dancing on her skin. 

Mac’s bicep grazes her cheek as he points again, and Riley has no trouble following the line of his arm to a particularly bright star nearly straight up. That must be Vega, the bright one. The other blends into the Milky Way too well for Riley to pick it out. Her voice catches as she half-lies, “I see it.” His arm drops, but instead of letting her go, Mac’s hand rests on her ribcage. 

Riley nearly stops breathing as her heart pounds loud enough that she’s sure Mac can hear it. She doesn’t know what to do. This is uncharted territory, him holding her like this. They’re in each other’s personal space all the time, but they’re never handsy. Riley has never been a very touchy person, and she knows Mac isn’t either. 

So this...Riley doesn’t know what to make of this. 

“Show me something else,” she manages. Mac takes a shaky breath beneath her. 

He points in a different direction. “Over there are Sagittarius, which looks like a teapot, and Scorpius, which looks like a hook or the letter ‘J.’” Riley finds the constellations easily. “Between them is the supermassive black hole that exists in the middle of the galaxy. All of the matter in the Milky Way orbits around it.” 

Riley smiles. Mac and his black holes. 

Bozer is taking an awfully long time to pee, and Riley starts to think there might be an ulterior motive to his disappearance. She hollers, “You good, man?” 

“Yeah! Got a little performance anxiety from this creepy bug staring at me.” 

Riley and Mac burst out laughing. Tears sneak out of Riley’s eyes as she holds her stomach, giggling until her lungs ache. Just when she starts to get it together, Riley makes the mistake of looking up at Mac, and they both crack up all over again. 

If Riley could stay in this moment forever, she would. Laughing with Mac feels like stepping into a patch of sunlight on a chilly day. 

Mac is still looking at her when they finally recover. Not in Bozer’s direction, not up at the stars, but at her. Riley bites her lip. She could do it right now. Tell him how she feels. 

But a bigger part of her knows that it’s not the right time, no matter how much she wants it to be, no matter how many small moments give her hope that she’s not alone in her feelings. Relationships with a messy beginning never last. Right now, they’re not meant to be, but Riley lets herself hope that maybe, just maybe, in the future, they will be. 

Until then, she’ll do whatever it takes to protect her heart. Starting with loving him quietly, and never expecting anything other than platonic love in return. Just having him in her life is enough. 

Bozer climbs back into the truck, and Riley moves to extricate herself from Mac. His arm tightens around her at first, but when Riley pulls away again, Mac lets her go. She doesn’t think about what it might mean if she stayed. 

The three of them lay together for hours, just looking up at the stars, until Bozer yawns. Riley can’t help but follow suit. 

“Mac,” Bozer says. “Did you set the alarm?” 

“Yeah. My phone is right here.” Mac pats a pillow above Riley’s head. 

She can’t believe what she’s hearing. “Alarm?” 

Mac explains, “The meteor shower’s peak is between three and four am. So unless you’d rather stay up all night...” He trails off. 

Riley groans. Of course. 

She pulls up a second blanket and rolls onto her side, facing Bozer. Safely tucked between her boys, Riley drifts off almost immediately. 

~

Riley wakes before the alarm goes off, struggling to breathe. It feels like someone’s sitting on her chest. 

When she opens her eyes, Riley realizes it’s two someones. 

She’s lying on her back. Between Mac’s arm thrown over her shoulders and Bozer using her chest as a pillow, their combined weight is uncomfortably heavy. They probably got cold and rolled toward her in their sleep. The thought makes her smile. Riley rolls onto her side to dislodge Bozer and ends up flush against Mac’s chest. His warm breath tickles the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. 

Shit. She should’ve included not torturing herself in her resolution to love him quietly. 

Riley tries to move again, but it’s futile. She’s stuck. As if to further prove her point, Mac’s arm slides down her body and wraps around her waist, pulling Riley closer like she’s his favorite teddy bear. The gesture makes her melt. Bozer reaches out then, sleepily trying to find his missing pillow, and his hand settles on Riley’s forearm. If Jack could see them now, he’d kill Mac and Bozer without a second thought, but Riley likes being wrapped up in her boys, likes feeling warm and wanted and protected. 

She’s still smiling when she falls back asleep. 

~

The alarm blares in her ear, and Riley can’t do anything about it. Her arms are trapped. She groans. “Turn it off.” 

A weight lifts from her side, and then an arm bumps her face as someone mercifully turns the alarm off, followed by a mumbled “Sorry.” Riley isn’t awake enough to recognize the rough, sleepy voice. It sounds nice though, she thinks. She wouldn’t mind hearing it again. 

The weight returns, and the same voice says, “I hit snooze. You have five minutes.” 

It’s Mac, she realizes with a jolt. Bozer would never be so merciful. 

Now she really wants to hear that voice again. 

Mac strokes her shoulder, coaxing Riley into consciousness, and damn him, it works. Her eyes flutter open. It’s still dark out, and Bozer faces them, his head resting beside Riley’s chest, the comma to her and Mac’s quotation marks. 

“Riles, move. I have to pee.” Swallowing her disappointment, Riley uses her feet to push Bozer back to his side, taking back her space. 

“I’m awake,” he slurs. 

Riley feels Mac’s chest rumble as he chuckles. “Sure you are.” He gets up, and Riley immediately mourns the loss of contact. 

He’s back by the time the alarm goes off again, and this time Riley turns it off herself before sitting up to stretch, her joints popping softly. The stars look completely different now. Riley still doesn’t know how to find Perseus, or even what the constellation looks like, but it doesn’t matter. The meteors are more frequent now, nearly two a minute. Most are quick, bright flashes, but a few are slower, gracefully crossing the sky before burning up. 

Someone—Bozer—kicks her in the back. “Riley stop blocking the view.” Rolling her eyes, she lays back down. 

She’s exhausted, and her body hurts, but it’s all worth it when a massive, glowing meteor arcs across the sky in slow motion, lingering for a few seconds before winking out of existence. “Wow,” Riley whispers. 

Mac and Bozer promised her fun, and sure enough, they deliver.

Riley hovers in that sweet spot between sleep and being awake until the sky lightens and the first rays of sunlight stretch across the desert. The air seems to hum, the way it always does in announcement of the scorching summer sun. Riley and the boys pack up in record time, and Mac blasts the air conditioner even though it’s barely six am. 

Leaning into the pile of pillows occupying most of the backseat, Riley orders, “Wake me up when you have my burrito. Goodnight.” 

She dreams of shooting stars and the warm embrace of a certain blonde nerd.