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anon-pseudonym · 1 year ago

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Devon Walker gave me mycoplasma genetalium

I’m up at 3am screaming crying with some of the worst pain my vagina has experienced, like top 3 & I’ve had an abortion. It all started with the mycoplasma.

Just talking about signs and symptoms first; I didn’t have any, till I was told about the infection contact. He called me on a Monday afternoon, told me he has this STI and I laughed- it sounded made up. I’m a public health girlie and I had never heard of this. Then he also told me he blocked me, and that his girlfriend was gonna reach out to me. That he had a lot of cleaning up to do

We have mutual friends; it’s how we met actually. I asked why it had to be like this, he said he had to “deal with his shit.” I said okay. A long time old friend of mine put me on, when I moved to New York last year and said I was looking to meet people. I was hesitant to reach out, knowing that he was a comedian, who are usually petty grimy people, and in an "open relationship". I mean comedians literally make a living off making fun of other people and themselves.

Anyways we started going out/hooking up in October, he said he didn’t know where his relationship stood and felt like things were changing since he was just cast on SNL. I had just gotten here, so I wanted to keep things casual, to which we did. It was never really anything serious, even though we both liked each other and things were amicable for the most part. Lots of teasing and banter. It quickly became a late-night thing, always fun, until he called me a few months ago and told me he tested positive for a strange STI, called mycoplasma genetalium, and that his girlfriend didn’t know about me and made him block me, and we couldn’t see each other anymore. I was in shock – and it took my body a good few hours to process it all.

The next day I went to his place to talk. I walked over & just showed up because we live within a half mile of each other, and I was pretty upset. Another very convenient part of what was an easy thing, but now feels too close to just shake off. He was shocked and appalled I had showed up, he honestly looked disgusting. Disheveled, confused, as if I had popped up with a strap or something about to pop some shit.

He told me to come back another time, he was busy, and another time never came. He offered a phone call, we talked, and he was straight up rude to me. I got no answers; how long have you even had this, what’s my risk since one time you took the condom off halfway through sex, and what’s my risk given we were having protected sex, not even that often? He was usually sweet to me, playful, touching, endearing. I don’t know what I had done to deserve this on the behalf of his lack of ability to communicate to women about what his relationship boundaries are. And I’m not just writing here about crossing just about boundaries – it gets worse.

I went to the doctor, they didn’t want to test be because they claimed mycoplasma is only transmitted through regular sexual partners. I said that was really the only reason I was here, since I was tested a few months ago & came back clean. The doc looked at my cervix, said it was heavily inflamed, and tested and treated me anyway. Honestly, I was wondering why my kitty felt so tight & also off since I had started seeing D back in October. The test came back positive after a week of two simultaneous of antibiotics I already had to take for the cervicitis & BV caused by myco. And then- the doc called me the morning after a long weekend, in a serious tone, and prescribed me a strong antibiotic with a black box warning to kill the infection.

This is what made me wonder how I even got it in the first place if it our sex was supposedly protected. This rare, hard to get infection that requires three antibiotics to kill it. Which made me realize: every time I saw him I was drunk. Not sure if it was my doing, but drinking was never not something he wanted to do. The last time I had seen him he poured me a glass half full of tequila. The time before that, I was so drunk I didn’t remember the sex the next morning. Was this my doing? Can’t say I don’t feel responsible for overindulging. These things are wildly ambiguous But either way, I have an eerie feeling I was stealthed.

One time, back right before the kiki palmer ep of SNL, I remember he took the condom off halfway (2/3 way) through sex. Before sex, I asked him if we could have unprotected, but he said “we shouldn’t… I really shouldn’t” – and so I did not push it. I said okay! But later, he proceeded to ask me if it was okay. I said yeah in the moment, regretted it & wanted to talk about it after, and he gave me no answers as to who he was sleeping with and what my risks are. He avoided me, beyond dodgy; just inconsiderate & unkind. He said all this when he told me about the mycoplasma again, said this info was “out of bounds.” As someone you’re having regular sex with, which I think he wanted to pretend like he wasn’t, I guess, how is knowing who you fuck out of bounds? especially when you chose to remove the rubber?

I didn’t see him for a minute after that but ended up seeing him again a few months later. From then on he enforced condoms, but I can’t help but think that the times I’ve been so drunk he could have stealthed me without my knowing. And how else would I get this rare infection, after all? And how many other women did he give it to?

Either way, the mycoplasma isn’t what hurts. Even though the doc said I had cervical symptoms, I was asymptomatic. It’s the antibiotics I had to take that came with a warning for tendinitis and nerve damage, to which symptoms i ended up experiencing. Of course, on top of that it’ll dry out your whole system and kill your microbiome. Just left me in a terrible place; emotionally and physically.

On day 7 of the antibiotics and I was suffering some of the most painful side effects ive ever felt vaginally. I went back to another GYN after a few nights of sheer agony, unable to sleep, barely able to walk or make it through the day. She said she was glad I came in because my skin was thinning in a scary way.

She said I would need to be reevaluated for an autoimmune disorder in a few weeks. That my skin flared up because of the infection, then the antibiotics. She said I could have a rare autoimmune disease that’s triggered by localized trauma. It could be anything – from arthritis to celiac, or something rarer. I’ve never seen my vagina look like this before in my life, patchy and losing color, wrinkly & painful.

The skin composition of my entire groin has changed after this whole experience. Not to mention the emotional triggers from my childhood and teenage sexual trauma and abuse. Difficulty using the bathroom on a daily basis. Deep, personal shame. While he gets to coast through shows, excursions, working things through with miss wifie. He gets to post his little adventures with his her, whole time I’m wondering, how much does she know? Why did he block me, but she didn’t? I just don’t understand how he can just move on and flaunt everything while I have to suffer the repercussions of his failure to be honest with me about his sexual health and relationship status.

So why would I write this all out, anonymously? Why would I want to hurt him? Ultimately I don't, but I just can’t let this go. I’m deeply affected by his carelessness – like it lead to me having a serious and deeply painful condition that’s taking me away from work, friends, and myself. I really, truly wish it was nothing. I almost wish he just never told me, and just ghosted me. But he did and the way he handled our entire "thing" just blew up for me in my life. I'm sure he thought he was being nice, by going about this the way he did, but are 'soft boys' and 'nice guys' ever actually nice? God I hate stupid men.

What I want is fair karma. He treated me like a used rag. What I want is to move on because this cut me deeper than I thought it could have. Hard to patch up this wound. How did I face the sharpest end of the sword, really? How did I get done this dirty, really? No explanations, barred and triggered from and by my friendships that were built before he ever came into the picture.

So I guess I’ll just say what I wanted the world to know, as I have been. Devon robbed me. He robbed me of my emotional sanity the past few months. Robbed me of a healthy hookup. Robbed me of feeling safe within a friendship. Robbed me of my ability to enjoy comedy. My ability to watch SNL again probably ever – which is honestly fine cus who even watches that shit anymore. Robbed me of my skin pigmentation and a healthy set of sex organs. Of my history of honestly in my casual sexual relationships. And I'm sure I'm not alone in this

Despite how bad I know he is, I’m still jealous of her - all the gifts he showered her with; having him in a way I could have never. She seems really sweet. I feel bad. But why should I? He really didn’t respect me. I was never going to reach out to her. I can’t keep secrets tho, and to me these are secrets that he’s hiding from her, and the world. My suffering. Their relationship is private, and I want to respect that. I really do. I mean for the longest time I have been respecting it, and her. It’s very difficult to do that though - to walk away from all this - when he showed me no respect at all. He made it clear he thought highly of me but didn’t live up to it. I’m beautiful and different. He doesn’t respect me at all; and I’ll tell you, as the other woman, I know she and I have plenty in common

So if he doesn’t respect me… why her? Is it her money, her daddy? He disrespected my asks for honesty and transparency sexually, and for amicable relationships with our mutual friends. He left me quite literally extremely high and dry. Beyond that- my body is sick. Instantaneously and chronically because of all of his mishandling

Really, who is he? Because I don’t know who I had relations with on and off for 8 months. I never ever knew when he was telling me the truth, about anything. I don’t know the person who triggered my body into an autoimmune freakout condition that is changing the state of my skin, and my sexual organs for good

#devon walker #snl #cucklife #cheating #writers strike #open relationship #mycoplasma genetalium #STI #STD #devon #walker #comedy #snlcast #snlsketch #girlfriend

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enthusiasticharry · 4 years ago

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𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6.7k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : i feel like i've been waiting years for this to happen when it has only been a few months or so but here it is! feels like home is finally here and i couldn't be more excited. this fic is literally like my child, just like checkmate was, but it does hit closer to home because there are some subjects and topics discusses that are things that happened to me or close to me, so i feel as though i have to protect it with my entire life. but please, do enjoy this not so brief introduction to feels like home, christian and luisa and their little world.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : explicit language, mentions of anxiety, depression and heavy injury. mentions of a car crash.

𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐍𝐄 here

“Christian!” The sound of her name rings through the entire Bed and Breakfast with how loud her sister screams it.

“What?”

“Have you seen my phone?” Christian sighs, leaning over the table that she was sat at to grab Luisa’s phone that was on the other side, holding it out for her sister. Luisa manoeuvres her wheelchair to the side of the table, “Thank you!”

“Welcome.” Christian mutters, leaning her chin back onto the palm of her hand as she scrolls through the Lodge’s booking system.

The booking system, apart from a few weekend bookings from the odd elderly couple, was completely empty. September was always quite a slow time of the year for the Lodge, and the sisters had found that out the hard way last year, during their first year of being open, when nobody booked anything for the entire month. From what Christian remembers, there were only two walk-in customer’s during the month and they only stayed for a night or so. The fact that they only had two bookings didn’t cause her to worry as much as she did the year prior though, because they had just had the biggest summer that they could ever imagine, and it was only their second year of fully being in business.

It had always been Luisa Flores’ dream to own her own Bed and Breakfast, but Christian had never, ever thought that she would be right beside her when she did it, but, she wouldn’t change it for the world now — she really wouldn’t.

Four years ago the sisters were coming home in the back of a taxi after going out for the night with their friends. They were drunk, but they weren’t driving and they never would whilst intoxicated, but they soon found out halfway through their journey that not everyone is the same. The driver hit the taxi that the Flores sisters were in on the right side as they drove through a junction, and completely destroyed Luisa and the driver’s side of the car. Christian doesn’t remember much from the accident apart from seeing a flashing light from the right side of her and then waking up in a hospital bed with her neck in a neck brace.

All she could think about was whether or not her sister was alive, and when none of the doctors would answer her Christian felt her entire world crumble around her. Even when her parents came, all they had been told was that Luisa had been rushed into emergency surgery and a doctor would be with them after to explain what was going on. Whilst they were waiting, Christian’s doctor came in and explained that she was going to have a scan and some x-rays to check that everything was alright with her. The results came back that Christian had three broken ribs and that her right arm had been fractured in three different places, but apart from that it was all cuts and bruises and she would make a full recovery.

Luisa, on the other hand, hadn’t been so lucky. Due to the car hitting them on her side, it had done unimaginable damage that Christian could only wish to take away from her sister. Luisa had lost one of her legs in the accident and lost all movement in the other, causing her to be wheelchair bound for the rest of her life. It changed their lives forever, and all Christian could ever think was that she should’ve sat on that side, not her sister.

If the accident did anything to their family, it brought them closer together. They had been talking one night whilst watching Gossip Girl for the thousandth time and Christian had brought up that when they were younger, all Luisa would ever talk about was owning her own Bed and Breakfast in the Lake District. At first, Luisa had dismissed the idea and said that it wouldn’t ever work because of her wheelchair and not being able to walk but if anything, it actually meant that Christian had more of a fire up her arse to make it happen for her sister. A lot of the things that Luisa wanted to do with her life she couldn’t anymore, but this thing, with Christian’s help, she could do.

They found the building that Little Lodge is now in a few months after deciding that they were going to start up their Bed and Breakfast and with help from their parents, they managed to get a deposit down and also managed to get themselves a mortgage. Before they knew it, they were opening their own little Bed and Breakfast.

It was a stressful experience at first, and Christian can’t lie and say that it isn’t stressful a lot nowadays as well, but it was certainly worse at the beginning. The majority of the time, Luisa did the front of house and Christian did everything else because it was just easier for the two of them and the dynamic of the Lodge. There was the odd time that the two of them would change their roles just to fit the situation but that was usually it. Christian loved the dynamic that they had created in Little Lodge more than anything else in her life. It was her new home, and she would never give it up, never.

“Have you heard anything from mamá about abuela?” Luisa asks after a few minutes or so, closing her phone and dropping it down onto her lap.

“No.” Christian shakes her head, swirling in the desk-chair that she was sat in so that she was facing her older-sister, “Mamá said that she’d message if there were any updates but I haven’t heard anything. Papá said that they’re still waiting for the scan results.”

“That’s shit.” Luisa adds and Christian nods her head, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear, “She had the scan hours ago, didn’t she?”

“Papá said that abuela went in for the scan at around six this morning, and they’ve been waiting and waiting but nothing yet.”

Christian sighs and shrugs her shoulders whilst Luisa shakes her head. Christian and Luisa’s abuela still lived in Seville, where their mother is originally from and she had recently started to get quite sick so their parents decided that it was probably best that the two of them go and visit her for an extended amount of time whilst she had tests done and they figured out what was wrong with her. It was nerve-wracking for the girls, that they weren’t able to be with her family and check that their abuela was okay but they couldn’t leave the Lodge, and they just hoped that their abuela understood that.

“Ay Dios mio.” Luisa shakes her head again, “Mamá must be going out of her mind.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.” Christian shrugs, “We’ve all seen how bad she’s gotten over the past few years. As much as I hate to admit it, I have a suspicion that it isn’t going to be the best news.”

“Christian!” Luisa raises one of her eyebrows as she looks at her younger sister, “Don’t think like that. We have to stay positive.”

Christian raises one of her eyebrows at her sister, “Positive? I’m just telling the truth, Lu.”

“I know you are.” Her sister pushes again, “But don’t you go saying that to mamá, that might be the end for her.”

“Like I would.” Christian leans forward and thumps her sister on the shoulder, but composes herself when she notices the last couple that they have staying in the Lodge for the summer make their way to the desk to check out. Luisa raises one of her eyebrows at Christian, who just responds to her sister with a roll of her eyes.

As the couple walk towards the front of the desk, Christian swivels around in her chair so that she’s facing the front again and offers them a large smile, “Morning, how are you both? Did you sleep well?”

“We did, thank you.” The man responds walking over and placing the keys to their room down on the counter, “Sad to be leaving, that’s for sure.”

“We’re sad to see you go, too.” Christian offers them a sad smile whilst she tries to find their booking on the system, “But I’m sure we’ll see you again, yeah?”

“Yeah, you certainly will.” The man laughs and Christian nods her head.

Christian sends their receipt to print and holds her hand out, waiting for the sheets to come out. Once they have, she staples their version together, and the Lodge’s versions together and opens them to the page they need to sign and passes them a pen.

“Can you sign on the dotted line and date, please?” She asks and the man nods, “It’s just a confirmation of payment and then you’ll get another one when we’ve cleaned the room and sent your deposit back.”

The man nods and signs the two pages before passing them back to Christian. She finishes the process and then gives them their receipt and wishes them a good day and safe travel. That was the last couple to leave the Lodge, and that meant that Summer was officially over and that they wouldn’t see as many customers as they had in a long time, probably not until October Half-Term when all of the schools in England broke up for a week. Once the door had closed behind them, Christian turned back to her sister who was looking at her with a silly smile on her face.

“What?”

“You’ve gotten better at that, you know?” Luisa says, moving forward so that she can slip underneath the desk with Christian, “You stuttered so much when we first opened.”

“That’s just ‘cos I was nervous.” Christian shrugs, “I didn’t want to fuck it up. Now, I don’t care. I don’t think I can fuck anything up.”

“Uh, let's agree to disagree with that one. There’s still things that you’d be able to fuck up. You get too nervous and word-vomit.”

“Thanks for reminding me of that, Lu. I really appreciate it.”

“Hey.” Luisa knocks Christian’s shoulder with hers, “What are sisters for?”

As far as a sibling relationship went, Christian and Luisa were as close as sisters could be. This had been both before and after the accident. There were only two years between them, and Christian sometimes wondered whether or not it was how close the two of them were in age that meant they were so close. They would do everything together when they were younger, and of course they had arguments and fought at little things that didn’t matter but at the end of the day they were still sisters. That was certainly one of the reasons why they made it through sorting out the Lodge without killing each other, because Christian doesn’t believe they’ve ever argued as much as they did when they were trying to sort the Lodge out, but they made it through without actually hitting one another which is better than they could say for before the accident.

They were minding their business when the computer pinged. It was loud, and it caused the two of them to sit up and stare at the screen with their eyebrows furrowed.

“Is that—?” Luisa asks.

“— I don’t know.” Christian leans forward and places her hand on the mouse, moving so that she could close the tab that she had opened and move to the booking-system app, which had been the one to make the noise.

“Has someone booked?” Luisa looked just as confused as Christian was and when she looked at the system, she saw that someone had actually booked.

As Christian flickered her eyes over the booking her mouth parted open in shock, “Holy shit.”

“What? What is it?” Luisa moves closer to Christian and focuses her eyes on the screen, “Ay Dios mio.”

Not only had someone booked in September of all months, but they had booked for the entire month. At first Christian thought that her eyes had been deceiving her and that this wasn’t the case at all. The more that she looked at the booking, the more that she realised that it was real and someone actually had booked to stay at their Lodge in the month of September.

“Holy Fuck.” Christian couldn’t help the profanities as they slipped from her lips, then parting in shock when she finally read the full confirmation.

Christian had expected to see that the booking would be for a few days, probably three at most, but when she saw that it was for the entire month. The entire fucking month, she felt her heart stop. Whoever this person was, H.Styles as the booking says, wanted to come and stay at their Lodge for the entire month. The most they’ve ever had was a week before, and that was during the height of summer when the kids were off school. To say that the two sisters were in shock would certainly be an understatement.

“Is this a joke?” Luisa asks, obviously just as dumbfounded as Christian at what she was looking at, “This can’t be real.”

“It looks like it.” Christian starts to scroll through the information that had been given, “The email, card. Everything.”

“You search him on Insta, I’ll do Facebook.”

Christian immediately takes her phone out and opens Instagram, typing in H.Styles to see if anything comes up, but it doesn’t. No matter how much Christian scrolls through all of the profiles that come up from the search as well. At the same time, one of these profiles could be of the person coming to stay at their Lodge in the next few days, Christian just didn’t know. After she closed her phone and placed it face down on the table, she looked up at Luisa who had her face too close to the screen of her own phone as she looked at something.

“Think you’ve found him?” Christian asks, leaning over her sister's shoulder to look at the profile that she was on.

“I don’t know.” Luisa mumbles, passing her phone to her sister, “Maybe this could be him.”

The profile that Luisa showed her sister was one of the profiles that look as if they aren’t used at all, but it’s actually just because they have a private account. The profile picture looked to be of a man, maybe around Christian’s age, or maybe Luisa’s but they couldn’t tell because the photo only showed the side of his face. From what Christian could also tell, the photo seemed to have been taken in a museum of some sort, and it looked almost serene.

“Could be.” Christian shrugs her shoulders, “I suppose we’ll know in two days.”

Luisa sighs and drops her head back, “I don’t think I’ll be able to wait that long.”

“Shut it.” Christian shakes her head, thwacking her sister on the shoulder, “Have a little patience. Why do you care anyway?”

“Well excuse me for being curious on who the person is who’s going to feed us in September and October.” Luisa shakes her head before moving herself backwards, “I’m going to check some things with Yani, are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” Christian shrugs her shoulders, giving her a small smile, “Have fun. Let me know if you hear anything about abuela.”

“Same to you.”

Christian gives her sister one last smile as she ventures back inside and towards the kitchen, before she places her attention back onto the booking in front of her. This was certainly going to be one for the record books, whether Christian and Luisa knew that yet or not.

As Christian sat drinking the coffee that she had made herself a few minutes prior, she quickly realised that it probably wasn’t the best idea to drink coffee at a time like this.

Christian’s social anxiety certainly wasn’t as bad as it had been, but it still wasn’t the best. Christian’s mother has said from her being a young child that she can talk for England if it’s to someone who she knows and trusts, but the second that it’s to someone who she doesn’t know and doesn’t feel comfortable with, she’s nervous and awkward and will only speak if she’s spoken to. The accident certainly didn’t help, and for a while Christian only spoke to her family and doctors but she bounced back from that quicker than anyone could have imagined, and she guessed that was because of Little Lodge and how it brought Christian out of her comfort zone.

Just because Christian was better than she had been, it certainly didn’t mean that she was completely cured because that wasn’t the case, not even a little bit. She would still fumble on her words, albeit not as much as she used to, but it would still happen. More often than not Christian wouldn’t speak unless she was spoken to and she tries her hardest to stay away from social situations that she knew would stress her out, because that wasn’t good for anyone.

One of the little worries that she had picked up since opening the Lodge, though, was whenever they had somebody book online and Christian wasn’t distracted enough to not think about it, that would be all that she would think about. Sometimes she would get herself into some quite horrible states worrying about the types of people that were going to walk through their doors, but Christian had to remind herself that speculation isn’t the right thing to do and that she can’t let herself worry like that unless that is actually something to worry about — obviously that doesn’t mean she completely stops doing it.

That was one of the reasons why Christian hadn’t slept at all last night, and why when she woke up this morning she felt the need to make herself a large cup of coffee. The only thing was that the more caffeine that the girl drank, the more that her heart started to beat faster within her chest. At this moment in time, Christian didn’t know if it was more nerves or excitement that H.Styles was arriving today.

“You look like death.” Luisa says, as she stops her chair in front of the reception desk.

“Good morning to you too, Luisa.” Christian says sarcastically, lifting her eyes up from the screen to look directly at her sister, “Did you sleep well? Are you excited for today? How are you?”

“Yeah, yeah I get it.” She shakes her head and places her hands on the desk, “Did you sleep at all last night?”

“As you lovingly pointed out, I look like death, so no, I didn’t.” Christian explains, unable to stop herself from letting out a large yawn.

“You need to sleep, Chris.” Luisa shakes her head, “I get that you worry but it certainly isn’t worth losing sleep over.”

“I know.” Christian offers her sister a small smile, “I’m not gonna be able to ever stop doing it, I hope you know that.”

“I know.” Luisa nods her head, “And I’m sure you know that I’m going to keep telling you that you look like death.”

Christian grins, “I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

Luisa’s phone pings before she can say anything else, and Christian knows that it’s probably time for her to leave. Luisa and her girlfriend, Elsa, have had this day planned as their date day for a long time, and Christian wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of their day.

Luisa and Elsa have been together for three years now. They met when Luisa went away to Sweden for a few weeks with her friends from school. Elsa had been visiting her family and they met through a confusing line of mutual friends that Christian had very little interest in learning about. All Christian cared about was that her sister was happy, and if Elsa was the person to do that then that was all Christian wanted in life. When the accident happened, Luisa had been worried that Elsa wouldn’t want to be with her anymore, and no matter how many times Christian reassured her sister that Elsa wouldn’t do that and that she loved her, Luisa just believed that wasn’t the case. As Christian had reassured her sister, Elsa didn’t leave. In fact, Elsa did everything that she could to help Luisa.

For Christian, Luisa and Elsa were the epitome of what she wanted in life. She wanted someone to look at her the way they look at each other, and love her like they love each other.

“El’s here.” Luisa grinned as she looked at her sister again, “Are you sure you’re going to be okay? We can stay if you want, go out later.”

“No!” Christian exclaimed, shaking her head, “You’re not cancelling because of this. I’ll be fine. You two enjoy yourself.”

Luisa looks at her sister and raises one of her eyebrows, “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

“Completely positive?”

“Luisa!” Christian exclaims, shaking her head, “Go to your girlfriend, everything will be fine.”

“Okay.” Christian stood up and made her way towards her sister, pressing a kiss to her cheek and then making her way over to the door and opening it for her. Christian can see Elsa’s car parked at the end of the street and she smiles at the sight, “I’ll see you later. Message me if you need me.”

“Will do. Have fun.”

Christian watches for a little while longer, just checking that Luisa actually makes it to Elsa. Once she sees the car door open and Elsa steps out, Christian takes it as her cue to go back inside. There aren’t any guests staying at the Lodge at this exact time, so it feels a little odd to Christian that someone will be coming tonight and that they’re going to be staying for the entire month, and be the only guest that they have for a while.

Yesterday, seeing as though it was the only day that Christian had been given to prepare, she made a start on deciding which room she was going to give H.Styles and started to get it ready. Luisa had spent the day at reception so that Christian could do that, only face-timing her every once in a while so that she could see what Christian was doing to the rooms.

A part of Christian often felt guilty when it came to the two rooms that were on the upper floor of the Lodge. They were the largest and fanciest rooms in Christian’s opinion, but due to the narrow staircase Luisa had never been able to go up and see them in real life so she had to settle for Christian’s shaky camera work on facetime.

Christian had to choose between rooms Seda and Luz which were both nice for different reasons. She supposes that she is biased because she designed these rooms and helped decorate them more as her own than the rooms downstairs. Due to Luisa not being able to go up to decorate the rooms, Christian had basically been given free reign of the rooms to do whatever she wanted with them. When it came to the names of the rooms, Seda and Luz, which mean silk and light in Spanish, Christian knew that she wanted to incorporate some form of each of the words into the decoration of the room.

When it came to Seda, Christian made the main colour combination in the room a dark grey and peach colour and incorporated the silk in with the curtains and the cushions that were used as decoration. Everything matches and isn’t too cluttered in the rooms, which is one of the things that Christian loves about being able to decorate her own rooms. The second room, Luz, she decided to make the accents in the room navy blue, including an accent wall which was a pain in Christian’s arse to paint, but once it was finished it really did bring the room together. The vocal point of the room, though, had to be the different exposed light bulbs that light up the room: there were three on the ceiling, and other lamps assorted throughout the room.

Christian had ended up cleaning and making sure that both rooms were adequate. She changed the sheets, hoovered, placed down fresh towels, dusted and did basically everything else that she could to not only distract herself but make the rooms ready for when H.Styles arrived.

Luisa always used to say, whenever they spoke about the Bed and Breakfast that she were going to own before the accident happened, that she reckoned that the cleaning and the upkeep portion would be the worst and for a while Christian thought the same, but she quickly came to realise that truly wasn’t the case. Christian loved to clean and make sure that everything was tidy for whenever the guests arrived and after having a little more thought about it, Christian believed that the reason she enjoyed cleaning was because it gave her time to relax and not think about everything else in her life. She often had her headphones on with music playing, or maybe even a podcast every now and then. Christian couldn’t exactly pinpoint the exact moment in her life where she became an old woman, but she couldn’t say that she minded.

She decided that the best thing that she could do is wait until H.Styles arrived for her to make any decisions about which room she thought would be the best. Of course, Christian wouldn’t know anything about him by just checking him in she would at least be given a slight indication of which room he may enjoy more.

Christian had no idea what time H.Styles would be arriving, and that was one of the things that was creating a bit of suspense. She was checking their books and making sure everything was in line and at any given second he could arrive and she would meet the person who had booked to stay there for the entire month. Christian believed that maybe that was why she spent a lot of her time wondering about who was coming to stay with them, because who would need to stay in their little corner of the Lake District for that amount of time, who would need to do that?

If there was one thing that Christian certainly wasn’t doing it was complaining. This man, whoever he was and for whatever reasons he was doing this, would be paying their bills and giving them enough money to keep themselves going for a little while longer, or at least until October Half-Term.

Christian quickly learnt that there wasn’t going to be much for her to do but sit and wait, and due to her being on her own in the Lodge, she saw no issues with connecting her phone to her speakers and blasting out music into the room. Luisa always said that Christian had a weird taste in music, but Christian just said that it was eclectic.

The thing about Christian, especially when it came to her music, was that she listened to everything. If someone recommended a song, she’d listen to it, and if she liked that song then she’d listen to it again and again. She would never say that she wouldn’t listen to a song just because it’s country, or that she doesn’t like this artist very much so she won’t listen to it either. If a song is a good song, and she likes it, then she’d listen to it. That did mean that Christian’s playlists were a little all over the place, and no matter how hard she tried to organise them, it just wasn’t possible.

Don’t Go Breaking My Heart by Elton John was the song blasting through the speakers at this time, a classic if Christian said so herself. She had done everything work wise that she needed to do, so she spent her time reading one of the books that she had picked up from the bookstore in the village: one about love, death and everything in between. It was good, but it wasn’t one of her favourites, but she’d definitely finish reading it just to see how it ended.

She was completely submerged in the words on the page, and the words floating around her ears when the door opened. In fact, she hadn’t noticed the man walking closer to the desk until she saw movement from over the pages of her book which caused her lips to part open in shock slightly. Her eyes flickered to the time on the computer, and it read that it was just past one in the afternoon, and she was shocked to say the least that he was already there.

Christian abandoned her book and threw it down, hoping that she’d at least get to remember where she was in the book because the pages had closed, and clicked her phone on so she could pause the music. Her eyes then flickered up to the man who was standing above her, and she couldn’t help her lips parting as she then looked him up and down. She was trying not to stare, she really was, but she wasn’t doing a very good job of it to say the least.

From what Christian could see, he was wearing a denim flat-cap on his head with brown curls peeking out of the bottom. He was also wearing sunglasses over his eyes, but she watched him take them off and they were now placed on the top of the reception desk. She could only see just under his chest, but he was wearing a red and blue striped shirt and a blue jacket. Christian couldn’t help but wonder whether or not he liked the colour blue, since he was wearing quite a lot of it.

“Hi.” Christian couldn’t help the sheepish smile that crossed her lips as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “Sorry about that, how can I help you?”

“M’Harry.” The man says, shrugging his shoulders slightly as he does so. Harry, “I made a booking a few days ago, I’m here to check in.”

Christian nods her head, “I’ll just get that up for you."

She wiggles the mouse to wake the computer up and quickly types in the password so that their systems come back up. Christian’s a little embarrassed to say the least that their systems weren’t already up but she wasn’t expecting him to arrive yet, so she hadn’t prepared for it. Once the system is loaded up and she has his booking, she offers him another smile.

One of the things that Christian had prepared though was the bill that he has to sign beforehand with the deposit on it that states that he’ll get the deposit money back if the room is left unharmed.

“Can you sign and date on the dotted line, please?” She asks, giving him the sheet of paper and a pan. She watches as he signs H.Styles, in a beautiful penmanship if she does say so herself, and then passes back to her.

She clicks a few more buttons on the computer before opening the drawer and starting to flicker through the keys, “One room, for thirty nights.”

Christian tries to hide the shock in her voice when she says how long he’s staying but she certainly doesn’t do a good job of it. As Christian flickered through the keys, she finally landed on the one that she had been waiting for, the one for Luz. It seemed like an obvious choice in Christian’s mind when she saw what he was wearing to pick Luz, so that’s the one she decided upon.

“That’s right.” Harry nods his head.

“Great.” Christian sighs with a smile on her face, trying her hardest not to make the situation more awkward than it was, “I’ll, uh, show you to your room.”

He nods his head and she watches as he picks up the suitcases that she hadn’t even noticed he had with him and followed her towards the staircase. She was starting to feel a little uncomfortable at the fact that he was walking behind her, watching her and she couldn’t see what his face looked like. That was certainly why, and not because she had noticed that he had quite the handsome face.

Once she made it up to Luz, and she had turned the light switch on so that they wouldn’t be fumbling around in the dark trying to find where they were going, she used the key in her hand to open the door. Christian walked in first, just because there wasn’t enough room on the narrow landing for them both to stand and manoeuvre around each other — Christian had learnt that the hard way.

She placed the key on the cabinet in the room, and then turned to look at Harry who had just placed his suitcases down on the ground. He looked around the room for a little while and then moved to the window, looking out before turning to Christian.

“It’s lovely.”

Christian nodded her head in thanks, “Breakfast is from seven to nine everyday in the conservatory. I’ll, uh, leave you to get settled in and I hope you enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you.”

The second Christian walks out of the room and closes the door behind her, she lets out a sigh of relief that she hadn’t even known she had been holding.

Christian messaged Luisa that he had arrived but she received no reply. She didn’t think too much of it, because she knew that whenever Elsa and Luisa were together they were so completely obsessed with each other that nothing can distract them. Luisa knows though that if she doesn’t give Christian an update of their whereabouts by five then Christian would start to worry — they had four hours before Christian would start to worry.

For a little while Christian didn’t put her music back on, and she listened to the creeks of the ceiling as Harry moved around above her.

He didn’t give anything away of who he was, or why he was there but at the same time Christian made no indication of wanting to know anything. If Luisa would have been here when he arrived, that would probably be a completely different story. Luisa would’ve gotten some information out of him, Christian knew it for certain. She wondered who he was, and what he was doing here, but she wouldn’t ask him.

When the creeks of the ceilings stopped and there wasn’t anything else for Christian to listen to, she turned her music back on and picked up her book. It took her a while to locate where she was, having just thrown it on the side earlier when she noticed that he was there but she soon found the page she was up to. The words, as much as Christian tried to digest them, just weren’t going into her head in the way that they had been.

Christian wasn’t playing the music as loud as she had been earlier, mainly because she wanted to hear and listen when he started moving again, and when he eventually came downstairs. He had to come down at some point, seeing as though he had to eat and even though they serve breakfast at the Lodge, they don't serve lunch or dinner just yet. It was something that Christian and Luisa had been looking into, but it takes more work than they could have ever imagined to make something like that work.

Around two hours after Harry first arrived, she heard movement upstairs and towards the landing that caused her heart to skip a beat. Christian quickly turned her music off, and managed to place her bookmark in her book before he walked into the reception. She tried not to make it obvious and she placed her hand on the mouse of her computer as though she had been doing something, but she wasn’t the best actress and she was sure that it was completely obvious what she had been doing.

He gave her a smile as he walked into the room and towards the desk, and she tried not to seem awkward when she gave him one back but she was sure that she’d failed at that too.

“Is everything okay?” She asks, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

He nods his head, “Yeah, everything’s fine. I was just. . . I was just wondering whether you had any recommendations of places to eat.”

“Oh, uh, I do know of some good places.” She nods her head, “What food do you like? Then I know what to recommend.”

“I’ll eat anything, to be honest.” He chuckles, a smile crossing his lips. He had dimples.

“Uh, well, there’s a good Italian restaurant about a mile from here.” Christian shrugs, “I can call you a taxi, if you would like.”

“No, it’s fine.” He shrugs, “Have you got the postcode? Or some directions.”

“Yeah, it’s just down the road.” She points to the left, “If you go over the bridge and just follow the road for a mile or so, you can’t miss it. It’s called Galileo’s.”

“Thank you.” He smiles and turns to walk towards the door.

He opens the door and then moves to the side, stopping his actions. Christian furrows her eyebrows as she watches everything unfold. Luisa and Elsa walk through the opened door, smiling at Harry as they do so before turning to look at Christian with wide eyes. The two of them look over their shoulder and watch as the door shuts behind Harry as he leaves, and their eyes immediately fall to Christian again who’s looking at them with her teeth clamped firmly on her bottom lip.

“Oh. My. God.” Luisa slowly makes her way towards Christian, stopping when she’s finished saying the last word, “You failed to mention in your message that the man was basically a Greek God, Christ Christian.”

“Do you really think that me of all people would say that?” Christian sighs and shakes her head.

Elsa shakes her head, “Chris wouldn’t say that, Lu. You know that.”

Luisa accepts her girlfriend’s hand on her shoulder with a kiss, “Doesn’t mean it’s any less true though. Did he tell you anything?”

“His name is Harry.”

Luisa doesn’t blink as she looks at her sister, “That’s it? That’s all he said?”

“That’s all he said.” Christian nods her head, “He just came down to ask for a recommendation of places to eat and I told him to go to Galileo’s.”

“Jeez.” Elsa sucks a breath through her teeth and shakes her head, “Galileo’s? On the first night? Are you sure?”

“Galileo is harmless.” Christian shakes her head.

“He’s a nutcase.” Luisa sighs, shaking her head.

“He’s not.” Christian pouts, “He’s not around me, anyway.”

Elsa laughs and sits down on one of the couches that rest against the wall of the reception, “If he survive’s Galileo’s then he’ll survive staying here for an entire month, that’s for sure.”

“Hey!” Luisa whines, “We’re not that bad.”

“I’m not bad.” Christian’s quick to say after her sister, “You are though.”

“I’d watch your tone if I were you, missy.” Luisa says, lifting her hand up and pointing one of her fingers at her sister, “I’m still the older one in this situation.”

Elsa furrows her eyebrows and looks at her sister, “Are you sure about that?”

“Shut it, you.” Luisa shakes her head, turning her attention back to her sister, “If I were you, I’d just keep an eye on him. See if you can figure out anything about him.”

“I’m not going to stalk him, Luisa!”

“I wasn’t telling you to stalk him!” She exclaims back, “I was just telling you to observe, like a good host would.”

Elsa furrows her eyebrows from behind her girlfriend, “It sounds a lot like stalking to me.”

Luisa shakes her head, “I hate you both.”

Christian grins and tilts her head to the side, “You love us really.”

Although Christian would never admit it, watching and listening seemed like quite a good way of figuring out who this man was and why he was here. She wasn’t going to be stalking him though, just observing.

#first part of feels like home!! eek!!#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles x ofc #harry styles x oc #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles series #series

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mcwriting · 4 years ago

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The Marriage Project (9)

I’m back with anotha one! Sorry it’s taken so ridiculously long! I’ve been soooo busy that sitting down and writing or even formatting has been such a challenge. Please enjoy this chapter!

*also i watched Cherry and Tom was so good in it I’m- that film messed me up a lil bit but like it was so good. Also I’ve loved Ciara since btr and now I’m just insanely jealous and love her even more ugh

Story Masterlist

Word Count: 2333

Warnings: Some language? I can’t think of anything else

% approximately the 3rd week of October %

Friday evening, the volleyball team arrived at the town regionals were being held at, about an hour away. You were staying in a hotel again, and as before, Julia was your buddy.

After having spent the evening laughing and having fun, your whole hotel room group was about to head up the stairs.

“Hey, y/n. Do you mind staying back for a minute?” Julia asked.

“Oh, sure. We’ll meet you guys upstairs,” you called to the other two, who waved back nonchalantly and continued walking. Julia and you went back to some empty seats near the lobby.

“What’s up?” you asked, smiling.

“Well… Sam told me he caught you and Tom yesterday and I just wanted to ask you about it…”

Your smile faltered.

“What’s there to talk about? I told him that Tom sprayed me with water so I got back at him by soaking the back of his shirt. There’s nothing more to say.”

“Well, yeah, he told me that but he also mentioned that you stayed for dinner? And met Nikki’s parents last weekend? Not trying to imply anything, but I didn’t meet their grandparents until Sam and I had been dating for like 6 months.”

You were getting annoyed, considering this was the second person in two days to ask you about Tom.

“I didn’t just meet them over nothing! Nikki took my senior pictures at the same time as Tom’s and wanted to do them there. I was just tagging along for the ride.”

“You know he’s also coming to state next weekend, right? If we pass through tomorrow?”

He is?

“Uh, no I didn’t. Doesn’t he have football stuff to worry about? It’s also Halloween next weekend, like he’d miss out on the big party.”

“They have a bye next week. Sam is going to come and I guess Tom is taking him, but Nikki might come too? I’m not sure. I guess you’d better ask him. Anyways, I just wanted to clear things up since there were all those rumors today,” she said, starting to get up.

“Wait, wai- Rumors? I never heard anything. Like about me?”

“You haven’t heard? I guess one of the freshman girls who has a massive crush on Tom was stalking Nikki’s website last night and saw some pictures of the two of you. A bunch of people think you’re dating now.”

You felt yourself pale.

“Oh no, and she changed one picture after Tom asked her to. Do you know what the picture was?”

“Something about him carrying you..? I never saw it, why?”

“Great. Now everyone is going to think she changed it because a secret got out or something. Ughhhh I just wish this stupid marriage project had never happened and I would never be in this mess.”

Julia looked at you contemplatively for a moment.

“Think of it this way, you and Tom are friends now, right?” you apprehensively nodded. “If it weren’t for that project, you two would still be fighting all the time and you wouldn’t have had the incredible Nikki Holland taking your pictures. Everyone can just get over themselves, you know?”

You snorted, then grinned.

“Yeah I guess so. You know, you’re annoyingly wise beyond your years,” you stated. “Now let’s get back upstairs. We have a long day ahead of us.”

Placing first at regionals meant two things: you were going to state, and everyone was congratulating you again when Monday came.

They also kinda looked at you funny when Tom high fived you in the hallway as he passed by, but you had decided to follow Julia’s advice and stop caring about the rumors people were spreading.

Once the morning announcements ended, your calculus teacher stood up, a small paper stack in hand.

“Okay, everyone, since I’m your first period teacher and homecoming is next week, today you get to cast your nomination votes. Y’all know the drill: three guys, three girls for king and queen. Try to make it fast, we have a lot to do today.”

She walked around handing out half-sheets of paper with six lines on them. You and Tom immediately looked at each other.

“We nominating each other?” Tom asked before you could.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” you joked, filling out the sheet with both of your names and four others.

In home ec, you sat next to Tom cutting fabric for yet another project you had to do together, thinking about something Julia had mentioned.

“Hey, I gotta ask you something. Is it true you’re going to the capital this weekend for our state tournament?” you asked.

“Oh, yeah. This is our bye week and I promised Sam I’d go with him and mom. Plus, we can work on the project when you’re free.”

“You do realize that’s like a four hour drive, right? I mean it’s Halloween this weekend. Wouldn’t you rather make an appearance at Johnny’s big blowout?”

“Eh, it won’t be that great. I mean his place isn’t even that big and it’s in town. There’s literally no way it won’t get busted within the first half hour. The homecoming party at Tyler’s however… that’s gonna be insane.”

“Okay Johnny’s trash party aside, you really would rather spend your one free weekend of the season four hours away watching girls play volleyball then at home doing… whatever it is you do. And please don’t tell me you watch the ‘hub in your spare time.”

“Come on, y/n I’m not an animal. Even without the tight uniforms volleyball is really cool.”

You backhanded his arm at the comment.

“Plus, I don’t need any videos to get myself off,” he added, smirking.

“You disgust me.”

“You know you love me.”

“Hmm. Debatable,” you shot back dryly, earning a chuckle and shoulder bump from him as you finally cracked.

At lunch, your friends were discussing the Halloween party when you sat down.

“Okay we really need to figure out what to wear this weekend, and we’re not going as playboy bunnies like Daisy and all her group,” said one girl.

“Well I say we dress as frat boys. It’s funny, not super sexual, and we all know half the guys are going to rush next year,” suggested Caroline.

“I like it, but what if we went a step further and dressed as dads. You know, hawaiian shirts, khaki shorts, socks and sandals. That would be hilarious. What do you think, y/n?” said Alexis.

“Sorry ladies, I won’t be there. We have state this weekend at the capital so as always, we’re driving down Friday after school. I will be at Tyler’s homecoming thing next weekend. Also, I do really like the dad thing, but I vote y’all do Guy Fieri.”

“Wait why is that literally genius,” Alexis said as the others agreed. “Of course it would suck to take your idea without you even getting to do it.”

“You guys really think I care? Just credit me in your insta captions. I’ll make the team put ribbons with flames on them in their ponytails Saturday.”

“Okay now we have to do it,” a different friend said.

“Hey, at least you won’t have to worry about Tom. I’m sure he’ll be at the party,” Caroline said. You wrinkled your nose.

“Yeah about that… His brother’s girlfriend is on the team so he’s going, too. I’m the one that’ll be seeing him instead of you guys but whatever. We’ll need to work on our project anyways.”

“Don’t you think that’ll fuel the fires people are already spreading about you? A good portion of the school thinks you’re secretly together now,” added the first friend from before.

“People are going to believe whatever the hell they want. I honestly don’t care anymore. Oh! By the way, did I tell you guys that some freshman was the one spreading shit about me Friday? The nerve those kids have,” you said.

“Wait, what? It was a freshman that was trying to tell everyone y’all are together? Ugh why would anyone believe them?” Alexis asked, incredulous.

“I know, right? Apparently she’s like obsessed with Tom or something. She must have a backwards way of thinking if she believes spreading fake rumors will make him want her. Jokes on her when she has to see us together on homecoming court. He’s just as likely to be voted as I am, maybe even more.”

The group all laughed and continued talking about random things, and you mentally wiped the sweat from your brow now that the conversation was shifted from you and Tom.

You were nervously bouncing your leg before calculus Friday morning. You’d gotten to school early to make certain you would be there for the announcements, which is when they would be releasing the list of nominees.

Tom came in a couple minutes before the bell, hair still wet from his post workout shower. Usually he blow dried it, and he obviously noticed you looking at his curls, your knee bouncing anxiously.

“Got out of the weight room late so I rushed over here. What are you wired up about, princess?”

“Do I really have to tell you? Homecoming noms.”

“You’re actually nervous about that? Everyone knows you’re already at the top of the list.”

“Uh, no, that’s you. After everything that’s happened the past few weeks, there’s no telling how people feel about me.”

“Oh you’ll be fine. I know it,” Tom finished. You wanted to disagree with him further, but then the bell rang and announcements began. After the general daily stuff, they got to the part everyone was waiting for.

You were on the edge of your seat. The disembodied voice began with the underclassmen’s court nominations, eventually working up to the senior king contestants.

“Alright, first up in the running for kings we have… Tuwaine Barrett!”

Tuwaine was a cool dude. He played basketball and was in theatre. You were happy to see him nominated.

“Next up we’ve got Harrison Osterfield!”

Ugh. I’d rather abdicate the throne than end up against him.

“And finally for the boys, Tom Holland!”

A small cheer went up in your classroom as people congratulated Tom and patted him on the back. You gave him a high five.

“And now for the ladies. First on the list is Zendaya Coleman!”

Ah Zendaya. You were never that close, but she was always nice when you’d had classes with her. She was way taller than you, a star player on the basketball and softball teams. Not to mention she was insanely gorgeous. This was already some stiff competition.

“Second, we have Daisy Ridley!”

And of course another likely contender. Daisy, who was planning on going to that evening’s Halloween party as a playboy bunny, was a cheerleader. She didn’t fit every aspect of the cheer stereotype, like the fact that she was actually really smart, but she definitely wasn’t the nicest person either.

“And finally, your last nominee for homecoming queen is… y/n y/l/n!”

It took a second to fully process that it was you they were talking about until there were people cheering you on like they’d done for Tom. He reciprocated the high five.

“What’d I tell you princess? Or shall I say queen.”

Tom was leaving football practice after the bell when a few of his buddies appeared next to him to walk across the parking lot.

They were talking when Tom saw you all loading the bus, and you sent each other a wave.

“Damn, y/n’s not gonna be at the party tonight? That’s rough, she always has the dopest costumes. ‘Least you will. What are you going as?” one guy, Jake, said.

“Did I not tell you? I’m going out of town. Won’t be there. I totally would’ve been Spider-Man though,” Tom explained.

“Wait you won’t be there tonight either?” another, Chris, asked. “You’re gonna miss out on some major exposure for homecoming votes.”

“Oh yeah, right. I’m pretty sure things are in the bag for me. I’ll just be gone tonight and tomorrow. Promised Sam I’d go to the volleyball thing with him.”

“Wait, wait, wait. You. Are going to the capital. Which is four hours away. At the same time as y/n. Am I hearing this right?” Jake asked as they finally reached their cars.

“Oh shut up, man. It’s not like that. Yeah we’ll be at the same place this weekend but whatever. We’re cool with each other now.”

“Cool? Is that code for ‘I want to make out every time I look at her?’” interjected Chris. He and Jake gave each other a look and laughed.

“Ugh, no. I’d kiss a salmon before I kissed y/n. I just meant we’ve come to an understanding and are somewhat friends now.”

They both looked at him funny.

“So you mean to tell me that there’s nothing going on between you two? Yeah right. We’ve all seen the way you look at her at games,” Jake said suggestively.

“What is up with you and everyone else at this school thinking there’s more to the story?! We are fake married for a school project and are nothing more than friends. You’re crazy to think otherwise.”

“Who are you planning on asking to the dance?” Chris asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

“What? What do you mean? I haven’t even thought about it.”

“I’m asking who you’ll take to homecoming. It’s y/n, isn’t it?”

“No. No, it’s not, because I haven’t asked anyone.”

“Would you go with her?” Chris continued, pressing in.

“I mean I guess so. If we’re voted king and queen then it’ll basically be an obligation.”

“And if you’re not?”

“Dude why are you asking all these questions! If she isn’t queen then I’ll go with whoever is. If I’m not king, I’ll just go solo and see what happens. Whatever, though, I need to get home. I’ll see you guys Monday,” Tom finished.

He walked off to his car, where his brothers were impatiently waiting.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Again, sorry for my inactivity but I’m hoping that writing will be a little easier as one of my classes was a half semester and I’ll now have a little more buffer room to write!

My asks and messages are always open!

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

Story tag list: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06, @thenoddingbunny-blog, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @stxfxniexreads, @justafangirlduh,

#The Marriage Project #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland series #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #sam holland

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lovesgonnabe · 4 years ago

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Love Is Worth It - Episode I

It Was Just A Normal Day

Characters: Chris Evans x Maya Alonso-Evans (Black OFC)

Warnings: Angst, Nothing extreme but could upset some, cursing, slight Implied smut

Word Count: 2k

Summary: What happens when those that don’t agree with you or your love are in positions of power?

Authors Note: This is out a lot earlier than expected so I hope you all enjoy. Also it has been a while since I’ve written so please bear with my rustiness, and there’s slight edits so there may be errors.

Disclaimer: There is slight police abuse of power that may be triggering to some.

Taglist: @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss if you would like to join the taglist message me.

Please leave a note and tell me what you think!

October 24th, 2019

The day started out just like any other...

Chris woke up at 5am to go on a run with Dodger.

I got up 30 minutes later headed to our home gym got on the Peloton for a workout then get started on breakfast.

Chris and Dodger get back around 6:30am

At 6:45am Chris carries me to the shower where we have “spontaneous” shower sex till Delilah knocks on our door.

7:30am I get Delilah ready for school then we eat breakfast as a family while Chris and I play footsie under the table and he quizzes her on current events. Did I mention she’s only 5 years old...

At 8:30am Chris and Delilah are out the door headed to school since it’s on the way to the set for Chris’s next project.

At this time I’m just sipping coffee reviewing my appointment schedule at the office and I head out the door at 9am.

It was just a normal day but something felt off.

When I pulled out of the gate of my driveway I see a Boston PD car just sitting on the corner next to our noisiest neighbor Mrs. Goldheim. She’s 70 and acts like she has no business to tend to but mine when what she really should be doing is getting some of her own dick, so she can hop off my dick and mind her damn business.

Anyway I’m getting off topic, as I drive down the road that same police cruiser begins to follow me lights off and at a safe distance for about a mile and then turns left down Sycamore, I was mad confused but I didn’t have time to think about the weird ass Boston cops right now.

I got to the office around 9:45am, had my first client at 10am and from that point It was nonstop between facials to acne treatments to talking women who don’t need plastic surgery off of that ledge I had my hands full for it only being the middle of October. But hey that’s the life I signed up for when becoming a dermatologist.

My last meeting about my new skincare venture ended at 5:30pm and I went to pick up Delilah from after school care. We stopped by the supermarket to get groceries so I could hopefully make my abuelas famous arroz con pollo for dinner tonight.

As a treat we stopped at Cold Stone got two pints of chocolate devotion for our after dinner mini celebration. Since not even a month ago Delilah was moved ahead to the first grade and got an A on her recent math test.

This is where the normal day began to take a nosedive.

Around 8pm we were headed to the house from Cold Stone, my little Dede and I were talking about her day, and Chris called to let us know that filming ended a tad early and he was already home.

We are just around the corner when I see another police cruiser this time they were following a lot closer but yet again they had on no lights.

My hands began to clam up as I kept looking in the mirrors at the two white men in the vehicle following me.

As I pulled into my gate they followed me in. Rushing I parked, grabbed my purse, and got out, unhooked Delilah from the seat and carried her to the door.

“Excuse me Miss” one of the officers spoke stopping me before I could enter my home. I felt like I was frozen In place with a hand on the doorknob.

“Mommy what’s wrong” Delilah asked looking at me with fright her big brown eyes. I turned around putting my shy ray of sunshine down, with a reassuring smile, I look at her and tell her that everything was alright as she hid behind my legs while the officers approached us.

It might be because I’m scared but it felt as if they both were towering over me, even though i was the one with the high ground standing on the steps.

One man looked like he was on a mission while the other looked like he was just there for observation.

The younger one looked at Delilah and said “there is no reason to be afraid sweetheart we are the good guys” the tension was thick as Delilah looked up at me and no one said a word.

The older man of the two cleared his throat and looked at me dead in the eyes as if he was trying to intimidate me.

“Good Evening Miss, are you the nanny? I’m looking for your boss.” I raised an eyebrow ignoring the question and asked “can I please get her in the house?” both officers looked at each other weird since I didn’t answer his original question but both nodded.

I looked at my watch showing it to be 8:40pm usually I would kissing my man trying to figure out the best way to get him out of his clothes. But at the moment I’m standing on my steps scared for our life.

I unlocked the door and told her to go and get her dad who at the time was in the living room playing the grand piano. The beautiful sounds of the piano could be heard when I opened the door and as I closed the door you can hear Dodger bark and scurry toward the door.

The officer began to speak once more “now I’m going to ask you again Miss is your boss home?”

Placing my hand on my hip, I let out an exasperated sighed and said “if I had a boss and they were here I would be very confused”.

The younger officer eyes grew out of surprise and the older officer did not look too happy by my snarky remark.

“Miss please cooperate we don’t want any trouble, but since you can’t answer my questions hand over your license” the older officer said with a smug look and his gloved hand outstretched.

My stomach grew with a bubble of nerves even though it can’t be seen on my face i was scared.

“If I may ask officers what is this about this is my home have I done something wrong?” I huffed retrieving my license and handing it to the older officer, “we will see about that” he says and walks to the cruiser leaving the other officer in silence.

“Look we are just doing the job we were called out to do” the younger officer said to me I looked at him like he had two heads but before I could say another word Chris walked out the door closing it behind him.

He look so damn fine in grey sweats with a matching crew neck sweater, his gold chain I bought him for Father’s Day laying on top and his Red Sox cap pointed to the back.

He came up next to me wrapping his arm around my waist and kissing the top of my head, mumbling. “Baby are you alright?” he asks looking at me rubbing my back as I look at him.

I nod as a sense of calm settles over my body as he familiar sent and touch centers me and makes me feel safe.

“Is there a problem officer? He asked now removing his arm from my body to cross his arms and stand in front of me as if he was my bodyguard.

“Wow you’re Captain America” the officer said in shock as Chris and I rolled our eyes.

“Yea I know but I asked you is there a problem officer” Chris asked slowly getting closer to the younger now shitting his pants scared officer.

I love that he is trying to defend me but we don’t want to make matters worse so I grab his arm to pull him back a bit. Which didn’t work because all he did was softly move my hand a say “let me handle it love”.

I rolled my eyes and watched the shit show unravel. The officer stuttered and Chris cut him off.

“Look I know you are here to do your job but you are on my property and harassing my wife so I would like to know what the problem is what has she done?”

He didn’t look upset and Chris said it respectfully but it was just a feeling that Chris did not want to be fucked with at this moment.

There was another beat of awkward silence the officer was too scared to speak. Chris rubbed his beard and chuckled “can anyone answer my goddamn question as to my wife is in front of our home being harassed” it was like his voice dropped an octave and my panties got wet.

I’m literally trying to tell my brain to stop thinking about using my husband as my personal jungle gym, that this wasn’t the time for that, but I digress so to distract myself for a second I looked at my watch again stating it was only 9:20pm.

Damn I’m not sure if time was moving too slow or too fast but by the time I focused back on Chris and the officers they were being cussed the fuck out.

“What the fuck do you mean you have to take her because she fits the profile of a suspect, do you have a warrant, what the fuck did she even do officer!”

“Mr. Evans we understand that you are upset but we need you to calm down” the younger officer said to a red faced Chris.

“Don’t you tell me to fucking calm down when you are also trying telling me, you want to arrest my wife for some crime she didn’t commit because she’s black” Chris was now fuming.

“Sir this isn’t about race, there has been a string of burglaries in the neighborhood and she fits the description of the suspect we are looking for, we just want to take her in and ask a few questions” the older officer answered.

From where I was standing I could see everything especially how the officer had one hand on his gun holster and the other with cuffs ready to be put around my wrist.

All three men proceed to argue, I had to step in this was getting out of hand and in a minute I would not be the only one in handcuffs.

Walking over to the group who were now in the middle of my driveway with my hands out then they all went quiet.

“Chris honey it’s okay, this is ridiculous I know but let me go with them, you call Austin, tell him what’s happening and then come to the station I will be fine” I said looking at his blue eyes with slight tears as his breathing quickened.

I was hoping to be okay at least for Chris’s sake so he won’t kill the two men in front of me. He read me my rights with Chris now desperately pleading with them to release me.

As the older guard roughly grabs me pulling me towards the cruiser Delilah runs out of the house with Dodger behind her with tears in her eyes.

“Dede get back inside” Chris says as he grabs a barking Dodger who was headed straight for me “daddy why are they taking mommy, what’s wrong she said everything was ok” then she wails out “please don’t take my mommy” over and over while she kicked and screamed when Chris picked her up and ushered the 3 of them back into the house.

A tear slips down my face as my head is lowered into the car and the door to our home closes. One officer looked remorseful and the other looked so satisfied as he looked back at me through the rear view.

He threw on his sirens like he caught some mass murder that he’d been hunting for years.

Then he laughed a menacing laugh taunting me.

“You thought just because you are fucking some white man with money you would get off? Well I’m sorry to break it to you sweetheart but that not how the world works for people like you.” He said to me as I cried harder.

“That’s enough Whitmer I think she get it” the younger officer said.

The rest of the ride the only sound was the radio. I was booked and brought into a cell by myself cold and alone but thanking god that at least I was alive and not hurt.

All I could think about was the smile on my little Delilah’s face and how today was just supposed to be just another Normal day.

I guess those are slim when you’re Black in White America.

#chris evans x black ofc #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans fanfiction #black reader #poc reader

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lazypetals · 3 years ago

Text

we're back at school bitches and i've been up to my walking all day and staying under my cal limit. let's fucking go. xmas break at home was just full of food and people and i wasn't weighing myself or bodychecking and yeah it was nice and i'm fortunate to have that, but in the back of my mind i felt like shit because i knew that i'd regret every bite of cannoli from that new bakery and eating sandwiches until my stomach felt like it was gonna explode and huge scoops of vanilla ice cream with extra chocolate chips (that i willingly added cause i'm fucking fat) once i got back to school and had more awareness of my body.

it sounds bad but it feels so good. i missed ed youtube. i missed weighing myself every hour and checking my waistline after every sip of water. bodychecking whenever i pee or just getting the urge to bodycheck and going to my mirror to life my shirt up. it's so comforting because i finally know i can do it. i plateaued so hard from 2020 to the first few months of 2021. i was like 160-165 for most of that time. then i got my shit together and it started working, and i finished off my semester and went home in the low 150s and i was so amped. but i went home for 4 months. and i went back to 163 JUST IN TIME TO GO ON MY FIRST SLEEPOVER COTTAGE TRIP AND TOOK PICTURES IN BIKINIS WITH MY FRIENDS THAT THEY ALL POSTED. and they're all so skinny and have those vertical belly buttons and honestly the pics weren't terrible but i look like an absolute blob but i wasn't gonna say that and stop them from posting because that would just make me stand out more. anyway september rolled around, i was back at school, then my grandma died, school was busy and i was just straight up not vibing.

but october -> december.......... im in love. december 2nd 2021. i saw the 140s for the first time since i was 15 years old. my lowest weight ever was around that time, beginning of 2017 when i was delivering newspapers every week and walking like crazy to high school and back. it was 138 pounds. if i could get back to something even close to that i would cry. december 2nd 2021 though was 149.8 pounds. and honestly? i was ecstatic. i bought a scale off facebook marketplace because i couldn't handle being away from the one i had at home and not knowing my weight. december 2nd i met that girl in front of a subway and i practically ran home i was so fucking excited. and to see my lowest weight in literally years, breaking below the 150s.... im still giddy.

I KNOW I CAN DO IT AGAIN. again, unfortunately winter break happened and i left home on jan 17th somewhere around 154 again. but that's okay. because i was 151.4 yesterday/last night and that's exactly where i was on november 27th 2021.

and actually i'm gonna weigh myself right now.

151.2!!!! AND I HAVENT EVEN POOPED IN 2 DAYS OR SLEPT YET IT'S LITERALLY 7:15 AM

im manifesting this for me. i have basically nothing to eat in my fridge or cupboard. the only food i really have rn is:

- assorted bag of oh henry/reese cups/cookies and creme

-cottage cheese

-carton of eggs

-3 cheesestrings

-a small sleeve of 8 crackers

-some cream cheese

-cans of 100cal chicken noodle soup

-some frozen broccoli

-frozen fries

-frozen fish

-hot chocolate powder (i deserve it fuck off)

-teaaaaa

-also some more frozen english muffins (160cal) and other dry pasta to be cooked, tuna cans, just other assorted low cal stuff that takes too much effort to make

it couldn't be easier. when i go in for my lab tomorrow i'm gonna get some cucumbers, cold cut slices (usually like 20-30cal per slice), and cherry tomatoes on the way home. those are my all time safe foods i'm telling you like 2 cold cut slices 2 baby cucumbers and im full for hours it's fucking magical.

wish me luck i cannot WAIT

(i just dont wanna lose all my ass though thats the only thing i have going for me) (it seems fine so far) (but id much prefer finally having skinny arms instead of my stupid thick meaty forearms and basically bingo wings over an ass any day)

peace

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darkpoisonouslove · 3 years ago

Text

Sparks of Life Opera Edition

I am still not over Singing a New Tune so I am going to recap for you the experience of writing that fic because there were many interesting moments over the course of those three days. Lemme start from the beginning.

- So I’m writing a fic that mostly focuses on sexual stuff but it is also mainly happening in an opera so my first order of business is to figure out what that opera is. Both the building itself and the show they’ll be watching. Because that is of utmost importance.

- I have already mentioned that SoL is located in New York so I looked up New York operas. I do not vibe with research most of the time but I vibe even less with having to come up with names for any kind of thing so research was definitely the choice here.

- I somehow get results about operas that are in the other end of the USA. That was not great. I get to the Metropolitan Opera House at last (which I might have known existed if I cared about opera in any way, shape or form) which is great! I am so close to starting the fic! Just need to figure out what opera they’re watching. Because I need that for reasons.

- I end up downloading a PDF with the seatings inside the Met Opera so that I can figure out where the hell they will be seating. But I leave that for later. I look through the actual plays that they’re having while absolutely failing with the navigation of their site. I find a show that catches my eye. It’s called The Magic Flute. I have zero idea what it’s about so I read the Wikipedia summary just to be aware. It mentions that a character has a moment when he’s singing about his search for a wife and I think “Perfect! Foreshadowing!” (since this is set pretty early on in Griffin and Valtor’s relationship).

- I decide to look up the opera and see if I can find a part of it on youtube to figure out how it will sound. I am pretty sold on it already because of the summary I read and also because it implies there is magic as a subject in it which would call back to canon. Still, I look it up. I find a full version of it on the internet with English subtitles... It is 2 hours and 35 minutes:

youtube

- “Wow, okay... that’s a bit much. But hey, it has got subtitles in English. Maybe I’d actually watch that... once I’m done with the fic. I’m just gonna listen to a little bit while I finish my research, though, so I can have an idea of what it sounds like.”

- Now it’s time to open the engagement fic - Enough to Be Yours - because I don’t remember what year they got engaged in and I need that to reverse engineer the year in which this fic is taking place so that I can make sure that The Magic Flute was being performed back then. I don’t have an year stated in the engagement fic, though. I have a date - 9th October which is Friday and that means the year is 2015. Great! So I need to figure out if they were performing The Magic Flute back in 2010. Great.

- That takes a shit ton of time and nerves as it turns out. I spent over 4 hours just researching the logistics for this fic and a lot of that was unnecessary but I’m getting ahead of myself.

- I cannot find out whether they were performing the Magic Flute in 2010. I get results of it being broadcast in English (for the first time, I believe) in 2012 but that is way too late for this fic to be happening. Also, they are speaking of a broadcast which just doesn’t work for me. So I am having a hard time over here.

- I find a list of the new titles in 2011 but nothing mentions The Magic Flute as far as I can see.

- I am now considering switching to another opera. I see an opera that is based on events from The Song of the Nibelungs (I cannot be assed to go back and check what the actual title was). That catches my eye because I have read a book that was titled The Ring of the Nibelungs, I believe, and I kinda remember stuff from it... which is what makes me hesitate because that was a big tragedy.

- Meanwhile, I have stumbled upon a trailer for The Magic Flute:

youtube

MY GOD IS THAT BEAUTIFUL! THOSE PROPS ARE FUCKING GORGEOUS! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN THAT YOU GET TO GO AND SEE THAT LIVE? THAT IS NUTS! (Also, when I mentioned paper birds (I think they are) in the fic, I meant the ones shown in 0:13, not the big one in the beginning but HOLY SHIT, DID YOU SEE THAT THING????? HOW IS THAT REAL?!?!?!?! IT IS SO FUCKING AMAZING!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I CAN’T. I AM DYING. THIS IS JUST TOO BEAUTIFUL.)

- I somehow happen upon an old archive of the opera (idk how I did that but I bookmarked it in case I’ll need it again) that has information about plays going back as far as the year 1900. This is nuts! I am in too deep but I can’t pull myself away. I’ve gotten this far, I will see it through.

- I search for keyword “flute” and I get results. Some of them are pretty old but I finally find what I need. Performances of the Magic Flute in 2010! Bingo!

- ...Oh, wait, they’re all around Christmas and New Year’s Eve. Hmm... when will it be okay for them to go? I mean, Valtor has been established to have zero free time around that time of the year and I can’t see them going on the 24th or the 31st... Oh, those are matinees. Definitely no! I need them to go in the evening. And some of these are broadcasts which doesn’t work for me either.

- I looked up earlier years as well. I considered another opera again. I decided to switch up the timeline a little. It makes sense if it’s in 2009. I think they had spring performances of The Magic Flute then. Or was it 2008? Anyway, I finally settle on an early April date in 2009 (I think). Now that that’s settled, let’s go back to the seats.

- First I need to figure out what floor (let’s say) of the opera they’re on. I was thinking of the last one first (family circle) but the boxes (I figure those seats will be safest for their activities) look like this:

which isn’t vibing with me because they would be in the front row and it seems more visible. So I relocate to the previous floor (balcony) that looks like this:

That works a little better although there’s the danger of having more people in their box. But they’re sitting in box 14, seats 5 (Griffin) and 6 (Valtor) (where the arrow is pointing) and there’s only one man in seat 4 in front of them. So that is the best I can do.

- Wow, all that’s finally figured out. I decide to do all the rest of the research up front in order to be able to just write after that and not stop for another 4 hours. More on those other things later BUT I get to the part where I need to pick a vibrator and... well, I done fucked up.

- First thing that comes up for a remote controlled vibrator is Lush, of course. And I am immediately sold because it has a sound activated setting which Valtor will definitely love to utilize while in the opera.

BUT

Lush 2 (which is the first one to have the sound activated setting, I believe) came out in 2018. Even if we accept that Lush also has it, that came out in 2015. My fic is set in 2009. Searching for 2009 vibrators literally went no where so in the end I decided that the SoL verse is actually set in a parallel universe where time is a little warped so the Lush 2 is out in 2009. Plus, that way there isn’t going to be a pandemic in future installments. Overall, that works. Except that I needn’t have been so thorough with my opera research beforehand. Oh, well. It’s finally time to start writing.

- How do you write? How do you start a fic? One word in front of the other? Oh, okay, never mind. Lipstick is a girl’s best friend. Let’s start from there. And a kiss that leads to the discussion of lipstick... Damn, I forgot to spend one more hour on researching what kind of lipstick Griffin would have worn. Shame! You don’t get that detail now. I believe I didn’t even mention a shade.

- Oh, wait. Need for his breath to taste like something. Hmm, let’s see. Tonic water? Yeah, that sounds about right. Never mind that he should have probably drunk it right before getting out of the car to kiss her if it was still lingering on his breath. I mean, that’s not impossible. Just improbable.

- He’s also wearing cologne, right? Gotta research that too. How else would I get this:

and zero idea what it actually smells like despite the description. Also, did not check if that was a thing in 2009 but the story now exists in a vacuum so who cares.

- Apparently, Griffin doesn’t own any golden bracelets even though she does have a golden necklace? Or she could have a golden bracelet, just not one she likes for the current situation? Anyway, I wanted to mention Ediltrude as well because the twins always go together and that was the best I came up with. (That said, I didn’t need to put the mentions of them one sentence apart.)

- My god, I used a semicolon! That feels illegal. I sure hope I used that bitch correctly.

- Okay, I absolutely love all the banter and just flow in the car. Idk how I did that since it’s such a constricted space but I am really proud of it. However, the logistics were sometimes hard to logic my way through. I mean, Valtor doesn’t get to look at her a lot and I had to employ a red traffic light to give him the chance to do so.

- I hit a wall about three paragraphs later. Things started going in a weird direction. I was considering even deleting the last two lines but then I managed to get back on track thanks to having figured out how they met and I decided to write a little bit about that without spoiling it (that will be a fic of its own some day). Suffice it to say it was a meet-very-ugly. But it bailed me out. Also, they got over it so it’s all good.

- And now... that paragraph. You know which one I’m talking about. It stands out with the locations I’ve given. That paragraph required 30 minutes of looking at Google Earth to figure it out and I still nearly got it wrong. At that point it occurred to me that they’ll need a place to park. I mean, idk how parking is in NYC but it’s probably not the way it is in Bulgaria especially on small neighborhood streets where it’s just... park wherever (even in front of a garage if you’re brazen enough and don’t fear having your tires slashed). So first, I was going to have them coming down Tenth Avenue and passing by the backside of the Opera which is not ideal for me because I needed Griffin to figure out they’re going to the opera so that they can have the following dialogue. But there is the New York Public Library of the Performing Arts right next door so I figure Griffin will recognize the area if it’s next to a library. And I have them almost at the garage but... that’s not looking right. This garage is on 65th Street and mine is on 62nd... I have been looking at the wrong garage for the past hour. Now that I have caught that mistake, things get easier. They just drive right past the facade of the opera, take a right turn and then enter the garage. Easy peasy. For whoever’s actually paying attention to the map.

- They’re in the garage now and I have to write another kiss. Shoot! I do not vibe with writing kisses. Writing sex scenes is much easier. But I’ll try my best because this is a little bit necessary if we’re dealing with an insertion of a vibrator in a public bathroom one minute from now. (Again, logistics!) I actually went back to add in a little discomfort during the kiss (but not too much because they’re consumed with each other anyway and probably missed something) just to make it more realistic. They can’t be comfortable in the car. Also, you have got to love how I never even thought of what make the car is. But I did stop to research the tinting of the car windows.

- Now this is extremely funny but I would have had zero idea that there are different laws about how tinted your car windows can be in the USA if I hadn’t read a very extensive critique of Fifty Shades (whichever part it was that had that info). So I look up the VLT for New York and it says 70%. Great! Then it won’t be that visible through the windows what they’re doing inside. Oh, wait! VLT means Visible Light Transmission aka 70% of the light should be passing through the window. Aka it is only tinted on 30%. This much:

That’s practically nothing. You can see everything through it. Welp, then someone’s gonna see, I guess.

- Can’t believe I didn’t stop to look up clutches either. (Lmao, I was calling it a purse instead of a clutch at first even though I definitely meant a clutch. And then I remembered that clutch existed as a word. Who would’ve thought?) It’s baffling trying to figure out why my brain was prioritizing some details over others and I just genuinely have no idea what was going on.

- Griffin is blushing a lot in this. Can you tell I have no idea how else to convey Valtor giving her feelings through body language?

- I first envisioned the box being opened by the hair pin by turning it like a key. Only later did I realize that that wouldn’t be possible because the pin has two parts (whatever they’re called) and that would make turning it impossible unless all of the base fits into one hole in the lid of the box. So I had to adapt my vision to using the extensions at the ends of the hair pin like a hook that pulls the lid up once it’s clicked free. I have zero idea how that would be done but I’m sure it can be done. So yeah, anyway, the pin looks like this but with attachments at the ends to open the box:

- I might have gone a little overboard with Griffin’s reaction to having the vibrator inside her. I might have made her a bit too embarrassed but I still think that she simply wouldn’t appreciate someone knowing about what she considers a private experience (despite the very public setting).

- And I am being overly specific again with the seats but I worked for that information so you’re getting it against your will!

- Speaking of, that man in their box was pretty ignored throughout the fic. But then again Griffin wasn’t overflowing with lucidity. She is sure to have missed... A Lot, actually.

- My apologies (once again) to @her-majesty-wears-jeans for not letting Griffin punch Valtor in the face for the terrible pun he was about to make but I thought that that would ruin the mood so I had to skip it.

- I might have imagined things a little differently but then consent factored in and I had to change things up so that Griffin is clearly on board with everything. I hope it came through that way at least. She is on board even if she is very, very frustrated. She would never throw the bet just because it’s difficult for her. Though, I’m taking note for future fics of maybe being a little bit more explicit about the enjoyment of all parties involved. I just couldn’t really think of a way to convey it better back then and I am coming up with several ideas now and I will try to keep them in mind for future fics.

- I keep going back and forth on just how far into their relationship this is. Sometimes it feels like it’s not enough time for them to get this familiar with each other and sometimes it feels like too much for them to still be skirting their feelings for each other like that. Will update when I make up my mind about how long exactly it has been.

- In retrospect, probably should have picked up an opera that people would be less likely to bring their children to (as brought to my attention by @her-majesty-wears-jeans). I apologize for this. Did not consider it at all.

- A wild tangent about Griffin’s sexual experiences before Valtor popped up (for the second time now). This is giving me thoughts and I am not even sure if I’ll manage to get them all out in the bachelorette party fic. Oh, no, I am getting ideas again.

- God, I had to mention those paper birds because I adore them. Also, needed to do a time skip somehow (sure hope they don’t show up at the very end or the very beginning).

- So there are some things about the whole thing with the suit jacket that if you squint, you’ll miss the very far-fetched and convoluted ways in which I could make them make sense but again, it isn’t impossible to make them operate according to logic so good enough.

- And now for the dress:

I thought it would be reasonable for Griffin to own something like that. It doesn’t look overly expensive or dramatic.

- I swear that most of the 2% angst was an accident. Griffin was supposed to say the “You paid how much for tickets exactly just so you could fool around?” line but the following few paragraphs sprang on me out of nowhere. That was where I left it off the first day I was working on it and I wasn’t sure how to continue it. Then the angst happened.

- I do not believe the retaliation part was planned but would it really be a Griffin x Valtor story if something like that hadn’t happened? XD

- “reverberated”, “multitudinous” and “unobtainable” are probably not words that Griffin’s muddled mind would go to in that precise moment but everything else I came up with for them just did not sound right.

- I completely forgot the word for neckline and was so mad at myself for that but, luckily, I managed to remember it before posting the fic. I believe the original read “he slipped a finger under the fabric of her dress, running it over the top of her breast” which is not incorrect but just not precise enough for my liking.

- Sure hope the shortened version of the opera did not cut out the ending musical sequence. But that seems unlikely.

- The idea was running overly long in my head by having them going back to the penthouse so that I could have the scene where he picked her up so I decided to move things around and have him carry her bridal style on their way from the opera to the car. It’s not like she didn’t earn it.

- Pretty sure I had planned something a little different for the last several lines of dialogue but I couldn’t remember what so we get this. Which isn’t a disadvantage. I mean, Griffin is already thinking of marrying him. XD (That’s probably a bit of a stretch at the current status of their relationship but then again, she was thinking of a wedding, not necessarily of their wedding even though I’m clearly a little romance gargoyle that meant exactly that.)

- Originally, Valtor was supposed to floor the brakes while they were out in the NYC traffic but then I decided that doing it while still in the garage with only one car behind them and both vehicles driving at a very slow speed was a lot safer so I switched to that. It also saved me writing more words which was appreciated. I thought this fic would be a bit shorter.

- I was at a loss for how many orgasms Griffin should want from him but then the commitment line happened and that was all avoided.

#winx club #winx griffin #winx valtor #griffin x valtor #covenshipping #sparks of life #singing a new tune #trivia #trivia tuesday #research #my writing process #the magic flute #yeah no cut and this is gonna be hell on mobile #i know #i'm evil

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tataswish · 4 years ago

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❝ familiarity / one.

━ ♡ ・ paring: kim taehyung x reader. ━ ♡ ・ genre: soulmate!au, non idol!au, fluff (with a little angst!). ━ ♡ ・ word count: 2.7k. ━ ♡ ・ summary: you didn’t believe in soulmates. once. that all changed when you met yours; all thanks to one little drawing.

author’s note: hi! i haven’t written in a while so excuse the small mistakes, but i hope you enjoy! if you’ve played bts world before, some of the stuff in this chapter might seem a little... familiar (no pun intented). i also plan to have the reader be connected to every member somehow in this fic, so they will come soon! hope you all enjoy, feedback is always appreciated. <3

“Shit,” you murmured under your breath, glancing at the rows of baked dough that were left in the oven for a little too long. Rather than its usual glossy, golden brown finish—it was dull, and… sad.

It’s been almost a year since you’ve been miraculously hired as the pastry chef’s assistant at Hotel Mudrin. You say miraculously, because even without any sort of culinary knowledge outside of cooking shows, you still managed to land the job. The chef was somehow impressed by the basic strawberry pancake dish you presented during your interview, and instantly saw growth potential in you.

That was also when you met your best friend, Seokjin. He was a newly hired intern at the time, and with the two of you being the only staff members in the hotel within the same age bracket, it didn’t take that much time for a bond to form. Seokjin was always getting into trouble by his boss Mr. Im, because to him, this intern could never do anything right. But with you there, you were able to lend a helping hand when tasks got a little too overwhelming—and things got a little easier from there. You and Seokjin began to spend time together on and off the clock since.

You weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline or the mixture of raging hormones from being together, but the two of you decided to give dating a shot not too long after. It lasted for a solid two months—and while it had to come to an end, you both concluded that you were happier as friends.

And it was true. You and Seokjin have been inseparable since.

“____,” you heard the head chef call out your name, which instantly reeled you back to reality. Glancing down at the burnt dough on the tray, you felt a surge of warmth rush through your cheeks, knowing that you were about to be scolded at any second. “Are you okay? Ever since you came back from your lunch break, something’s been off.”

“No chef, nothing’s wrong,” you lied, walking over to the nearby garbage can to throw the current batch of dough away. A reassuring smile soon formed across your lips. “Just tired.”

If it wasn’t for you spiraling during your lunch break after Seokjin had left, maybe you would be in a better head space. But of course, spending the last ten minutes of break thinking about what went wrong in all of your relationships didn’t exactly help anyone at all.

The head chef could see through your lies too. And rather than questioning it, he only continued piping cream on the freshly cooled pastries on his side of the counter. “Maybe you need some fresh air,” he added with a shrug of his shoulders, eyes concentrated on his work. It was evident he was still invested in the conversation with you, though. “There should be a shipment of mangoes coming in in about twenty minutes, do you mind bringing those boxes in here? Take all the time you need. I’ll work on making another batch of dough.”

“I can make the dough, chef!” you tried to protest, mostly as a way to convince your boss that you weren’t feeling too off (when in reality, you were). “It’s okay, the mangoes can wait.”

As you were about to reach for the measuring cups in a nearby counter top, you were met with a look from the chef that clearly said: Go get some fresh air. Now.

So, rather than questioning it, you did.

After washing your hands and hanging your apron by the door, you made your way outside of the kitchen and into the main hallways of the hotel. It was emptier than usual—mostly because it was a weekday afternoon, and the guests who were staying at the hotel were out. It was also the midst of October, and the influx of guests don’t usually start to come in until around Christmas-time. Which was fine, because you weren’t met with the stress of having to make hundreds of fruit tarts in a span of an hour. Instead, you were able to step out and take a small stroll, which was always nice.

Upon exiting the area where the stairs were (staff weren’t allowed to use the elevators, per Mr. Im’s orders), you finally arrived at the ground floor. You always felt so out of place in the main lobby, with or without your work uniform. With the spacious area matched with gray marble flooring and sleek interior design, it was never a place you imagined yourself staying in. Only the richest of the rich could afford even one night in this place, and you? Couldn’t even afford a proper meal for dinner on some days. Hotel Mudrin was known to be a hub for millionaires, celebrities, or rich families alike—not for struggling university graduates like yourself.

But sometimes, it was nice to dream.

Quietly humming to a tune of a song you heard in the radio earlier this morning, you casually strolled through the floor, making your way towards the back door where the shipments would be. The subtle smell of lemon from the newly mopped floors was an odd favorite of yours. From time to time you’d flash a friendly smile towards the guests or staff members you’d pass by. But before you could exit through the back and meet with the shipment truck, you decided to take a small pit stop to the front desk and say hi to your best friend.

“Dude,” you began the minute you saw Seokjin behind the front desk. His eyes were on the computer screen in front of him, typing and clicking away, but you knew him well enough to know that he was probably playing a game of Minesweeper like he always does. Crossed arms resting on the desk, you then rest your chin on them as your eyes look up to your friend on the other side of the counter. “Remember when I wanted to cry because I realized I’ll probably be single and alone forever? Well my boss—”

As you continued to ramble on, Seokjin’s eyes finally met with yours. They weren’t eyes that meant he was ready to listen to you vent, no… they were wide. Like he was in a state of shock.

He quickly began to shake his head, which caused you to raise an eyebrow in slight confusion. Did he want you to stop talking? Shut up? Right as you were about to say something though, his lips began to mouth the words ‘I’m busy’ over and over again.

That was when you knew, you fucked up.

The truth was, Seokjin was still busy tending to a guest, and you interrupted him actually working. Turning around, you briefly spotted the guest he’s been helping, and god—it was obvious by the look of your face that you had just embarrassed yourself into the next century.

“Sorry sir!” you apologized quickly, heat beginning to rush through your cheeks while you bowed for the hundredth time in the span of thirty seconds. Rather than making proper eye contact like any normal person would, your view was glued to the floor. “I honestly didn’t see you, and I know I should’ve, but—”

“It’s okay! Don’t worry about it,” he soon interrupted by providing reassurance. Once you heard a string of laughter from his end, you knew that he was understanding enough of the situation. “I get it.”

While you still couldn’t find the strength to really look him in the eye, you only returned with a sheepish laugh. It wasn’t every day you found yourself acting like a complete fool in front of a hotel guest (that was more of Seokjin’s speed in all honesty), so you didn’t exactly know how to fix the situation. Instead, you ended up sitting there in silence until Seokjin rescued the conversation.

“Alright!” he chimed in with the clasp of his hands, which was obviously your cue to slowly walk away. “You’re all checked in until the 31st, Mr. Kim. Let me grab your bags and take you to your suite.”

As you were about to leave, of course, you couldn’t go without embarrassing yourself one last time. Just as you were about to make a beeline towards the break room—also known as the place you were going to scream in—you managed to bump into this guest in full force.

Looking up, you finally had the chance to take a good glimpse of the person in front of you. He was tall, muscular, with ash blond hair that was parted in the center. His almond eyes were practically gleaming behind his silver frames, and it paired well with the two dimples perfectly placed on each cheek.

In other words, he was gorgeous. And completely out of your league. Which is probably another reason why you were feeling flustered beyond belief at this very moment.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly. It felt like a movie—with both of his hands gently placed on each of your arms to provide support, gentle eyes locked on yours. You could’ve sworn you felt your heart stop, whether if it’s from being embarrassed or… swooned, even.

Swallowing thickly, you managed to let out a small “yeah,” before fixing your stance. He eventually let go, and the two of you were able to laugh it off for a little. “But are you okay, sir?”

“Didn’t even hurt,” he reassured, flashing that smile that accentuated his dimples really well. An open then was reached out as an offer. “You can call me Namjoon. Do you work here?”

But before you could even keep the conversation going, of course, Seokjin had to butt in. Literally. “Let me help you with that, Mr. Kim,” he urged with a friendly, yet painful smile as he walked in between you and Namjoon. He then reached down to pick up the leather suitcase that was sitting right beside the guest’s leg. Eventually, Namjoon had to retract his hand.

You took it as your cue to leave, so you excused yourself from the two without saying goodbye.

Thankfully there wasn’t anyone in the break room to look at you quietly take a moment to freak out over what just happened. If Namjoon wasn’t so good-looking and one hundred percent your type on paper, maybe you would’ve shrugged the interaction off by now. But you kept thinking over and over about how you were going to run into him again in one way or another—especially since he plans on staying at the hotel for over three weeks. All he had to do is walk into the hotel’s dining area to have dinner, and you’d be there. Not even as you off the job, but you in that stupid apron and chef’s hat.

Head dug into your arms as you leaned on the table, you tried to think of something—anything to get your mind off of what just happened. Letting out a deep exhale, you decided to take your phone out of your pocket and scroll through your e-mails. The first thing that caught your attention was an opened one, the one you received from that psychic about your soulmate.

Your soulmate is a man who is hard-working and bright, he will constantly continue to prove that he can be trusted and counted on by your friends and family…

Your eyes continued to read through the reading the photo was attached to, which was oddly comforting. To know that there was someone out there who could potentially be everything you’re looking for.

He is understanding, forgiving and respectful, even when you sometimes make mistakes…

Deciding to skim through the rest of the reading, you opened up that picture once again. You couldn’t help but notice something you didn’t the first time you saw it, and that was the small details on his facial features. He has three beauty marks: one sitting on the bottom of his eye, on his cheek, and one placed perfectly on the tip of his nose. You could’ve sworn those weren’t there before.

“And I thought I was the one who’s always the embarrassment at work,” you heard the familiar voice barge inside the break room, which obviously belonged to Seokjin. He walked over to where you were sitting and rested his chin on the top of your head, arms dangling from each side of your shoulders. “Jesus Christ bubs, you were a mess out there.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you murmured grumpily, placing your phone back in your pocket. “Do you think he’s going to tell Mr. Im? I can’t be blacklisted from this place, I need my job.”

Seokjin only laughed. “Stop being so dramatic. He seems too nice to do that.” Shaking his head, he sighed. “Plus, I’m eighty-five percent sure he was hitting on you.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” you retorted while rolling your eyes. “As if he found my dirty uniform and the flour in my hair sexy.”

“You’re right, there’s nothing sexy about you,” he playfully joked back, which made you elbow him in the stomach. And all he did was laugh after. “What are you doing out here, anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be helping Chef Seong making those pies for tonight’s desserts?”

You sighed, nodding your head in response. “I’m supposed to be bringing a shipment of mangoes in from the back. Are you on your break? Do you want to come help me?”

With your best friend agreeing to accompany you to your trip to get the mangoes, the two of you head out of the break room and towards the back entrance of the hotel. As you opened the door to go outside, you noticed that the truck was already parked in front, with a few boxes of mangoes neatly stacked on top of one another. So, you decided to get to work and grabbed the first two boxes you see.

“Are these all of it?” you heard Seokjin ask (possibly the driver of the truck). You couldn’t really see, because the boxes were obstructing your view.

“There’s two more left,” the other person, who sounded like a man, replied. “Let me get those out.”

You made about two rounds in and out of the hotel before all of the boxes outside were brought in. Seokjin had to do the absolutely most as usual bringing way more boxes in than he could carry, and while he tried to play it cool as much as possible, you could tell he was struggling. His trembling arms were a clear tell that he could drop everything at given moment.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” you asked him, trying to suppress the laughter bubbling inside you.

“Does it look like I need your help?” Seokjin scoffed, which only made it harder to keep your laughter in. He couldn’t even look at you as he tried walking inside, because he was far too concentrated in keeping all of the mangoes inside these boxes. “Go away, you’re distracting me and my strength.”

As he continued to carry the boxes inside, you watched a couple of mangoes fall out and roll on the ground in front of you. He didn’t even seem to notice, because he kept walking. You only shook your head before bending down to quickly pick them up before they get too dirty.

Assuming that you’ve picked everything off the ground, you stood up and tried to catch up to Seokjin, who was already by the door. But rather than joining him, you were stopped. “Excuse me, miss!” you heard the foreign voice enter your ears. “You forgot these!”

You turned around to grab the mangoes out of the driver’s hands. “Thank you,” you replied with a soft smile. “Sorry about my friend, he’s—”

When you looked up to meet his gaze, it was as if what you were about to say next was thrown at the window. The person standing in front of you looked familiar. Even with the brim of his large straw hat hovering over his eyes, you could clearly see the prominent beauty marks on his features that resembled the ones of your soulmate in that one drawing.

It was him. It had to be.

#kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung imagine #bts fanfic #bts imagine #taehyung fanfic #v x reader #bts fluff #taehyung fluff #v fluff #kim taehyung #bts #bts series #bts fics

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brelione · 4 years ago

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Neon (Sarah Cameron x Reader)

This Is That Good Gay Shit Right Here

It had been study period.You sat across the table from Sarah at the library in the large kook school.You werent really a kook,you just had the money of one.You acted and dressed like a pogue and your friends were pogues as well.You didnt wear your school uniform.Instead you wore JJ Maybanks shirt and a bracelet that Pope had made you.You hung out around the boys a lot,every single day.You’d go surfing with them and drink cheap beer.You wore John B’s socks and the boys would often tease you about the school you went to full of rich princesses.Sarah watched everything you did.You did the same thing every single study period.You’d take out the same notebook every time and sketch lines out with a pencil.When there was two minutes left of the period she watched as you’d grab a neon marker and swipe strokes across the paper precisely.The things she’d do to know what you spent so much time drawing.She never got any studying done during study period,she was too busy watching you.She watched as your nose would scrunch up when you messed up a line or how you would throw your hair back aggressively when it got in your way.She was just so fascinated by you.

It had been a bad morning for Sarah.She hadnt been able to get a good breakfast or do her hair properly or even have a nice cup of coffee.She was at her locker,chatting with Kiara when she saw you.You were wearing some rather short shorts and a neon blue striped shirt.She couldnt help but stare at you.You looked amazing,hair up in a messy bun,a generous amount of bracelets on your wrist that you had collected over the years and that neon shirt.You were so effortlessly gorgeous she just couldnt wrap her head around it. “What are you looking at?”Kiara asked.Sarah laughed it off,saying she zoned out but couldnt help but stare at you out of the corner of her eye.She knew you and Kiara were close friends in the eighth grade but had drifted a bit.She looked you up and down multiple times,eyes falling to a mark on your jaw.She couldnt quite tell what it was but she knew it wasnt a birth mark.She had looked over your face so many times she could probably draw it from memory.

Neon streaks covered your hair.Pink,green and blue.The morning had been a rather chilly one.You wore a thin brown leather jacket over a white crop top,not that the crop top could be seen due to your arms and jacket covering your torso.Sarah knew it was fake leather.She had heard you talking about your love and appreciation for cows so she knew that you’d never wear something made out of their skin.She stared at the neon streaks in your hair,the way the light reflected off of the colorful streaks and how two neon yellow pieces of hair framed your face.Only you could pull off that look,she thought.She had never actually spoken to you but she felt that she knew you so well.Noone hated you,no one even disliked you.You didnt fit in in any way shape or form but there was something about you that just dragged everyone in.Every night before she went to bed Sarah would scroll through your instragram.It was a public account because clearly you didnt really care about who followed you and who saw you.Her thumb would hover over the follow button but she never pressed it.

Neon pink was the color of the bikini you were wearing when she saw you on the beach.The bottoms were high waisted,your hair up in a bun and she couldnt help but think about how brilliant your boobs looked in that top.You were sitting next to JJ Maybank,giggling about something as you talked to him.She wanted to be the one to make you giggle like that.JJ said something to you and you nodded before he ran off.You rolled your eyes,continuing to walk by the water.Sarah watched as you bent over to pick something up.She watched as your face of happiness became one of worry.She watched as you ran to find a stick and a leaf.She watched as you got a small creature onto the leaf and ran down to the water,placing the leaf down.She grinned as you were smiling again,scooting the creature along.She took a deep breath,walking down the sandy hills towards you. “Hi, (Y/N),right?”She asked.She didnt have to ask.She knew your first,middle and last name.She knew your siblings names,your pets names,your parents names,your cousins names.She knew your favorite foods,your zodiac sign and your favorite animal.She had spent hours stalking your instagram and going through the people you followed to find your mother.Once she found your moms instagram she found her facebook and that lead to Sarah learning many details about your life.You nodded,turning to see the blonde. “Sarah Cameron.”You nodded.She blushed.She never knew her name would sound so good coming from you. “So,what brings you to the beach on this lovely morning?”You asked.SHe shrugged. “Just...hanging out.”She replied.You nodded. “You want me to hang out with you?”You smirked.She blushed. “Sure,umm do you maybe wanna come to my house?”

Neon green was the color you painted you painted your nails while the two of you were hanging out at her house a week later. “Hey (Y/N)?”Sarah asked as she held a pillow to her chest,wresting her chin on it. “Yeah?”You asked.Sarah blushed,squealing into her pillow.That caused you to look at her with furrowed eyebrows.The boys never acted like this.Sarah was really quite different from the guys.She was stunning and giggled a lot and made your heart thump. “So like-do you like anyone right now?”She asked.You sighed.Why?Why that question?What the hell were you supposed to say?You just shrugged. “Oh my god!You’re blushing!Who is it?”Sarah faked enthusiasm.She wanted to frown and roll her eyes but that would definitely give it away. “God,Sarah.You ask so many questions.Why dont you just guess?”You asked.She bit her lip,staring at your bright finger nails. “Well...where do those little marks on your jaw come from?”She asked.You laughed. “You can say the word hickey,Sarah.”You grinned.You and JJ had a sort of friends with benefits thing going on.It wasnt exclusive or anything,just something to do when you were bored or horny or whenever you were mad.

He had always had the biggest smirk on his face afterwards.He’d ask you who you had thought about during it.You never told him. “Just because I have hickeys doesnt mean I like someone.”You replied.She frowned. “How can you do that?Like do someone and then not have any thoughts or feelings afterwards?”She asked.You smiled,blowing on your fingernails. “I just think of someone else.”You shrugged.She gasped. “So you do like someone!”She exclaimed. “Whats the first letter of his name?”She asked.You rolled your eyes,butterflies building in your stomach. “S.”You repled.She bit her cheek. “Seth?”She asked.You shook your head. “Whats the next letter?”She asked.You bit the inside of your cheek. “A.”You told her.She’d have to catch up eventually.Her eyebrows furrowed. “Uh...Sam?”She asked.You shook your head with a big grin. “The next letter is R.”You told her.She’d have to get it eventually.Her heart thumped a bit and she tried not to blush.

She was getting really excited at the possibility that it could be her.No boys name had those three letters in a row. “Next letter please.”She pouted.You blushed,looking away from her. “A.”You told her.She raised her eyebrows,eyes darting around the room. “Is it a girl?”She asked.You nodded,nervous for her reaction.She could have squealed in that moment. “Im Bi,Sarah.”You told her.She held her head in her hands. “Same.”She replied.You gasped quietly. “Shut up!”You exclaimed.She giggled. “Wait-is it Sarah Carpenter?Shes kind of a bitch,dont you think?”She asked.You bit on your lip. “Sarah,its you.”You avoided her gaze.You didnt even notice her lunging forward and wrapping her arms around you tightly and kissing your forehead. “This is really embarrassing-but ive liked you since the beginning of ninth grade.”She grinned.You giggled,kissing her nose. “Are you serious right now?”You asked.She nodded. “Dead serious.”She replied.

“Why didnt you talk to me or something?”You asked.She bit her lip. “I didnt know that you were into girls!”She exclaimed.You rolled your eyes,sure that your face couldnt be any more red. “Sarah,I have dyed hair,short nails and I cuff my jeans.It couldnt be any more obvious.”You kissed her cheek.She looked down at her lips,pecking them gently.There was a knock at the door.You pulled away from eachother. “So yeah,grilled cheese sandwiches are so much better than tuna and if-Oh,hey rafe.”You greeted the tall boy standing at the door. “dinner.”He said quietly,winking at you before leaving.You and Sarah laughed,going downstairs.

Neon pink was the color of the beaded bracelet Sarah had made for you.That bracelet was tied to your wrist as you stared at Sarah.Her white dress,the diamond crown on her head as she held your hands. “You may kiss your bride.”Pope read off.You kissed Sarah gently,holding onto her waist.You rested your head on her shoulder as you hugged,JJ and Kiara screaming from the crowd and clapping loudly.Dear god youd think they would be the ones getting married with how excited they were.Sarah sung the words to We Fell In Love In October into your ear as you danced together.She kissed your cheek,your temple and your collarbone as she giggled.You had never loved anyone more,nor had you ever been happier.JJ had literally tackled you after the ceremony,spinning you around. “YOU GOT THE GIRL,BITCH!”He shouted.You laughed,punching him lightly on the shoulder.Kiara hugged you as well. “I’ve gotta get married next now,dont I?”She asked,glancing over at Pope.You nodded. “Hell yeah.”You replied,slapping her arm in excitement. “This is some great ass cake.Why the neon frosting though?”Rafe asked,poking at the frosting with his fork.He had somehow gotten off the drugs and stopped being such an asshole...most of the time.Sarah laughed,shrugging. “My baby loves neon.”She replied,watching in awe as you danced around with your cousin,dress twirling at your feet.

#sarah cameron #sarah cameron x reader #madelyn cline #jj maybank #sarah cameron imagine #girl in red #kiara carrera #pope heyward #rafe cameron #sarah cameron x you #outer banks #obx kiara #obx #obx sarah

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toutallyahoe · 5 years ago

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Stupid Git ~ Percy Weasley (Harry Potter)

Requested By: --

A/N: finally finished this shit that i have been working on since literally october last year and akdbsjfbsjnfnsbfbsbfbajdjjsbd my baby boi deserves so much more love and akdjsjfnnsnfnsnfndbfahsjsjdjsjjdjsbdjd percy is such a great character and whoever says otherwise can catch dez hands aksbjsjdjsjfnsjfnndnfndnfndnfnfn

also, can you believe THIS BITCH ALMOST MADE ME WRITE 5K WORDS FOR HIM?!? AJDJSJDNSMFNNSNFNSJDJSNFNBDBFBDBFBBF DNDB

─────────────────

The [Hair color] haired man sighed as he looked at the paper in his hand then at the building standing tall in front of him. 'To think he'll go without even notifying me...' [Name] bitterly thought as he shoved the piece of paper in his pocket. Straightening his posture and awkwardly fixing the blue tie he was wearing, the [Hair color] haired man began to walk inside the building, having to seem to be disinterested on everything inside the building as he approached the front desk where a woman around here late twenties was talking to... what was that device again? [Name] swore he had heard it from somewhere. Ah, right, he remembered that the older Weasley's blabber this device on one of his visits that it was a telephone.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" The [Hair color] colored haired man had said as he drummed his fingers on the surface of the receptionist table. [Name] awkwardly coughed to gain the attention of the female who seemed to ignore him and her job. Coughing again but louder this time, [Name] spoke again. Trying to gain the female's attention and it seemed to work.

"Excuse me ma'am, but today would be lovely," the [Hair color] haired man had sarcastically said as he saw the female finally noticed him and looked up. Pausing midway on whatever she was talking to the telephone on her hand, looking rather flabbergasted.

"Good morning, lovely day isn't it?" [Name] had said, sarcasm evident in his tone yet it seemed the female didn't noticed it or did but didn't pay mind into it, it was probably the former though with the woman still frozen like a deer caught in the headlights. The [Hair color] haired man could only flash a bright false smile to the female to still give off a nice and perfect gentleman that he was, hiding his annoyance on her ignorance rather well. The [Hair color] haired man began again, not minding the awe struck expression the female was giving him.

"Terribly sorry for disturbing ma'am, but may I ask where Percy Weasley's room at?" [Name] had asked, not really sorry if he had to be honest but he needed to be nice to attain the information he needed. The [Hair color] haired man hummed when saw the female nodded her head and hastily said something to the phone about working and then stopping the call. Her face was a little bit flushed as she looked to the large black book and hastily trying to find the page of the occupant the [Hair color] haired man has asked.

The receptionist would occassionally send the [Hair color] haired man a look as he was looking around the interior. Now, the female receptionist was interested, no doubt on that. The man had a unique look with a nice [Hair color] hair that seemed to be combed back to appear neat. He had a lovely shade of [Skin color] skin with some imperfections here and there yet she didn't mind. His [Eye color] eyes were unique on its own but what the caught her attention though was how he dressed and acted. He was neat and perfect. Almost.

The pristine black suit he wore and blue tie. How the [Hair color] haired man seemed to express and aura of uninterest in where he was yet showed a very... attracting aura that just screams 'look at me' and 'adore me'. He was hypnotic in some way that you could not tear your gaze from him and it was why that the woman would spare him a glance from time to time. The [Hair color] haired man was like a magnet and he is attracting a lot of attention with how he looked so... hypnotic.

"Mr. Weasley's room is in room twenty-two, fifth floor, s-sir," the receptionist had said as the [Hair color] haired man nodded and sent her a smile. The female receptionist swooned at his smile and she did not even bothered to hide that she was checking the [Hair color] haired man out moments ago.

"Thank you ma'am," [Name] said as he quickly went to the stairs, not sparing a glance back and leaving behind the female on the receptionist table where he heard her quietly squealing and hastily slamming buttons on the telephone to contact whoever she was talking to awhile ago.

'Muggles...' The [Hair color] haired man musedly thought as he rolled his eyes. He saw the female was occasionally stealing glances at him. [Name] was not dumb, he was in fact, known to be very intelligent. And he knew the female receptionist saw him as attractive. [Name] wasn't shallow nor too arrogant woth his looks,he just knew because the half part of him had made people fall for his looks rather easily even withour doig anything. Hypnotizing them to be allured to him whether he liked it or not. After all, being part Veela would always do that to you.

[Name] walked the stairs, keeping mind the plate number plastered on the side of the wall to know which floor he was.

"Two... three... four-- bloody hell..." The [Hair color] haired man had muttered to himself as he kept in mind the floor he was going. After awhile of walking and looking at the numbered plates, he was finally in the fifth floor of the building. Walking calmly in the hallway. 'Twenty... twenty-one... twen-- ah, this is it!' [Name] happily thought as he stopped walking and looked at the door, making sure the bronze plate that was plastered on the brown wood had a "22" in lovely cursive writing carved on it.

"This is it, yes," the [Hair color] haired man had muttered as he fixed himself. Straightening the jacket he was wearing and trying to comb his [Hair color] hair back with his hands. Inhaling deeply then exhaling. "It's now or never... that git better have a good explanation for this."

An annoyed huff left Percy's lips as the ginger angrily tied his red tie, a loud "hold a minute!" leaving his lips as he hastily walked towards the door of his flat to answer whoever was knocking at his door like bloody murder. Annoyed, the ginger was as he gritted his teeth as he tried to keep his annoyance down before it blew up and ruin his perfect image. Percy hoped that the knocker would understand that he was currently busy and have the decency to wait for a minute as he was tying his tie. Unfortunately for Percy, the knocking still continued and it frustrated him to no end.

"Wait a minute, alright!" Percy shouted as he fumbled on tying his tie again and eventually gaved up when he couldn't handle the knocking anymore which was disturbing his concentration to tying his tie. The ginger angrily stomped towards his door and grabbed the doorknob and unlocking it. Opening the door, the ginger was ready to reprimand the person-- assuming his own mother for begging him to come back again since that woman was rather desperate to have him come back to his home after the fight with his father. But to his utter surprise, it wasn't the small plumpy woman he had known to be his mom.

There, standing in front of him in his very own eyes, with that stupid grin on that face of his and that dangerous twinkle of amusement on those [Eye color] eyes that the ginger all knew far too well.

There, standing in front of Percy was the [Hair color] haired man he had been thinking awhile ago. [Name] [Last name].

Percy stood frozen. He never expect to have [Name] find him, not especially how he was far away from the wizarding world, if Percy had to be honest. The ginger was about to send Hermes with the letter to explain he wasn't living with his family in the burrow anymore and where he can be located. But it seemed he didn't have to now.

"Hello there love," [Name] husky and alluring voice made Percy realize how he missed the other male. Very much. It was that voice that always managed to soothe him when they were still in Hogwarts together. It was... nice. The ginger remembered that it was the same voice that always made him calm down from any negative thoughts or feelings he had. The anger and annoyance that Percy felt awhile ago disappeared as he looked at [Name] in the eye, coming to a trance like state.

"You know I had a bit of trouble trying to find your stupid arse?"

And it also made the ginger realize how charmingly annoying the other male was. Snapping out of whatever he was thinking as Percy let out an annoyed huff. 'Curse that Veela blood of his.' Percy angrily thought of the [Hair color] haired man as he realized he fell into that hypnotic trance. Or maybe he just misses the other.

Shaking his head, Percy thought it was the former. It was definitely the work of the [Hair color] haired man's origins as half Veela to have the ginger be in a trance and not because he misses [Name] who still stood in front of him with that stupid grin of his still plastered on his lips. Glaring at the [Hair color] haired man, Percy slammed the door on [Name]'s face.

[Name] stood frozen for a moment as he had to process what just happened while there was a click from the other side of the door, indicating that Percy had locked it. 'Did... did he just... just slam the door onto my face...?' The [Hair color] haired man had thought. Flabbergasted at what the ginger had done. Clicking his tongue, [Name] looked around both sides of the hallways. Seeing that there no one was in sight, the [Hair color] haired man took out his wand from the inner pocket of his suit's jacket.

"Alohomora," [Name] had casted as he heard a 'click' to indicate he opened the door. The [Hair color] haired man then put his hand back to where he hid it.

"Rather rude to slam a door to a gentleman, now isn't?" [Name] had cheerily said, tone dripping with false happiness on what the other male had done as he opened the door on Percy's flat which made the ginger looked at him in surprise then anger when he opened the door to see him.

"I locked the door?!?" Percy has said. "Don't tell me you just used a spell to open it!" He continued. His tone rather strained as the ginger stresses out on the [Hair color] haired man getting caught using magic by muggles. The [Hair color] haired man rolled his eyes at the ginger's reaction.

"Oh, calm down you stupid git," [Name] had said. "I'm not an idiot to just cast a bloody spell with muggles watching all willy nilly."

"Do you really think I'm that dumb?" The [Hair color] haired man has asked as he grinned at the ginger who frowned at him.

Percy huffed at his words as the ginger fumed for being called an idiot by the other male. "But still!" Percy had said as he stomped towards the door and when he got there, he gotten hold to the doorknob and was about to slam the door on [Name]'s face once again when the latter forced the door fully open as he went inside without even asking for the ginger's consent to come in. That grin on his lips slowly leaving though as he stared at Percy in the eye.

"I was worried you know," [Name] had softly stated. Uncharacteristic of him as Percy knew [Name] to be a man of stubbornness (like him, not that Percy would ever say it out loud) and aswell as having an ego and tends to really hide what he truly feel... even if [Name] knew the person for years.

It was odd... the [Hair color] haired man's tone losing its teasing edge and was replaced with grim seriousness. Percy could only let out a sigh leaving his lips, his anger on [Name] using magic that can be easily seen by muggles seemed to dissipate as Percy was too busy to wonder about [Name]'s behavior.

The ginger knew what [Name] was probably being worried about. After all, [Name] was like an honorary Weasley at this point, as he used to visit a lot of times to the Burrow before he and Percy graduated from Hogwarts and going seperate ways for a bit from focusing on their careers. The [Hair color] haired man also had a very close relationship of the Weasley children and even more close relationship with the third oldest Weasley which was Percy.

"Really sorry about that [Name]," the ginger apologized. Percy's eyes softening as he saw [Name] let out a tired sigh. Being so close made the ginger saw that there was bags underneath the [Hair color] haired man's eyes and it made Percy realized that the [Hair color] haired man must have truly been worried about his well being. They are, after all, in a steady relationship. A bit odd really as two are a bit opposites to each other yet it seemed like what others says as 'opposite attracts' made the two seemed so close.

"I'm sorry..." Percy apologized again as he let go of the doorknob and instead wrapped his arms around the [Hair color] haired man's torso. Hugging [Name] tightly as the other frozed for a moment, a bit tense but gave in to hug Percy tightly. [Name] placed his face on the crook of Percy's neck as he savored hugging the ginger. It had been awhile for the two to see each other. With being busy with trying to gain spots in their careers to the disagreements that the Weaseley family with their third oldest son that lead to Percy leaving the Burrow and [Name] awfully knew well about it.

"Are you alright?" Percy flinched at the [Hair color] haired man's question. The two men were inside the ginger's flat. Sitting on the couch, side by side having tea that Percy had prepared not so long again. It was silent before [Name] decided to break it.

"I'm... I am well..." Percy hesitantly answered. If the ginger had to be honest, he wasn't. He wasn't alright at all. It had been already a month avout the fight with his father that lead to him leaving the Burrow. It had been a month of his mother coming again and again to cry and beg for him to come back to home. It had been a month when he last seen his bothers and little sister.

Percy may not have the best relationship with his siblings, especially both his younger twin brothers for not seeing each other eye to eye, nor spend time with Ron and Ginny for he was already focusing a lot of his time to study. But it doesn't mean that Percy didn't miss them. In fact, Percy does. So badly.

Percy misses both his older brothers, Bill and Charlie, who left the Burrow to find a job to help their family. He misses Fred and George's laughter whenever they did a prank or just having that witty banter despite him sometimes wanting to hex them for being so annoying. He misses Ron coming to him to play wizarding chess or just bond over quidditch despite him not agreeing on his younger brother's choice of team. Percy misses on taking care of their youngest sibling which was Ginny or just looking after her. He misses his mom's cooking that always made him feel at home despite not having much. And... and Percy misses his father despite his last interaction with the older wizard left a nasty taste in his mouth. Percy misses his family a lot.

But they were wrong.

The ministry was right. Why can't they see that? Why does his father not be so proud of him to be promoted? Why was he accused to be a spy for the ministry? Why? Why was he... why was he always the one who felt bad? Percy doesn't know why but he wished his family would understand that he can't just go to their side. They were wrong. And him being with the ministry side and getting promoted, he can send more money to help them. Can't they see that he was doing this to regain back their family name? Can't they see that he didn't want to see his family to suffer just because they were a Weasley? Can't they see that he was done on suffering to be poor and just want to help his family atleast afford some luxury from time to time and not get second hands or be in depth? Why can't they see?

Percy seemed to be lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice [Name] placed his cup of tea on the table and looked at him in worry. The [Hair color] haired man let out a sigh as he came close to the ginger beside him who tensed a bit but then relaxed when Percy realized it was only [Name].

"Percy," the [Hair color] haired man softly called out the ginger's name. Snaping out Percy from his thoughts to look at him. "Percy, tell me the truth," [Name] had said. His tone gentle as possible as he did not want to aggravate the ginger. His [Eye color] eyes soften as he looked at Percy in the eye. His hand taking Percy's and intertwining them both together.

"Are you really alright?"

"Why would you ask that?" Percy said. Dodging the question as he looked away from [Name]. "I told you, I'm fine," he said as he took his hand away from the [Hair color] haired man's hold, missing the hurt look [Name] sent to him.

"I'm fine by myself! I have been for a month now, so why ask?!?" Percy had snapped. The ginger turned to look at the [Hair color] haired man beside only to flinch on the look of sadness on the man's face. Percy didn't know why he was suddenly angry. He... he doesn't know. But he can't stop.

"Why do you now suddenly care anyways?!? I have been alone for a month now! I have been gone from the Burrow for a month-- a month [Name]! Yet you never visited until now!" Percy had shouted angrily. The ginger wanted to stop. He desperately wanted too but he cant. "You never sent letters for weeks! You left to do that job of yours and lost contact for qeeks-- for weeks!" Percy seethed as he stood up from the couch and looked at the [Hair color] haired man in anger.

"Percy, I--" [Name] tried to explain but was cut off by the ginger who glared at him. Not giving him time to even explain himself.

"No! Shut up! I know why your here!" The ginger said. "Your here to bring me back, aren't you?!?" He accused the [Hair color] haired man who looked baffled at his words. "Did they asked you too? You're forced to come here, aren't you?!? You don't care for me! Just say it!"

"Percy, no--" The [Hair color] haired man tried to explain himself again but once more, he was silenced.

"Shut up!" Percy shouted. "Just shut up! You're on their side! I don't need you! I don't need them! I am fine on my own! So, GO AWAY!!! YOU'RE JUST LIKE THEM AND I DON'T NEED ANYONE WHO ARE THINKSlING THAT THE MINISTRY IS WRONG BECAUSE YOUR THE ONE WHO IS! YOU-KNOW-WHO IS DEAD! HE'S GONE!!! DUMBLEDORE IS JUST AN OLD FOOL AND POTTER IS JUST A KID WHO HAS TOO MUCH IMAGINATION!!! SO GO AWAY!!! I DON'T NEED YOU!!!"

Percy panted from him shouting at [Name]. Looking at the [Hair color] haired man who kept quiet for awhile, Percy felt inside on him break. 'He's one of them... he sided with them...' Percy bitterly thought as he looked away and glared at the floor of his flat. His emotions shifting from sadness to betrayal and anger.

"Are you finally done?" [Name]'s voice was cold. It made Percy flinch as he snapped his head to look at [Name] who calmly was sitting in the couch, eyes narrowing at him. "Because if you are done with your tantrum, can I speak now?" Percy fumed at his words. Tantrum? Tantrum?!? [Name] was seriously pissing him off!

Percy was about to snap at the [Hair color] haired man when his hand was grabbed and he was pulled down to sit back down to the couch. A yelp left the ginger's lips as he turned to give [Name] and angry glare but frozed by the look the [Hair color] haired man was giving to him.

"I'm asking again, Percy," [Name] calmly said as his cold look soften at the ginger. "Are you really alright?"

Something inside Percy falter as he saw the worry in those [Eye color] eyes of [Name]'s. The anger, the sadness. The pain and loneliness he felt. The walls the ginger tried so desperately built to not show any weakness. To show he was strong and that he can do things by himself and not need his family. It finally broke down.

"I... I d-don't know..." Percy has said as he avoided the [Hair color] haired man's eyes. The ginger voice was so weak and tired, it made [Name]'s heart clench tightly to see the ginger he knew to be proud and arrogant at times but mean well, to be reduced into this state. All confused and weak.

"I just... w-why can't they see?!?" The tears finally fell down and a sob left Percy's lips. He just want his family to see he tries for them. He wanted them to see he was doing this for them. "I just... I wanted t-them to... t-to be proud..." Percy had cried as he looked at [Name] and it made the [Hair color] haired man's heart ache more.

[Name] never knew that Percy would feel like this. He may have been together with the ginger for a long, from friends to lovers, but it seemed like the fight that Percy had with his father truly affected him. [Name] knew that Percy always had a nasty habit of thinking lowley of himself. Comparing his own accomplishments to his two older brothers and thinking he could do much better. Wanting to prove that he can be praised and be unique and not be a copy of his two brothers. That's why he and Percy clicked together when they first met. It's because they were both two peas in a pod. They both have similar yet at the same time, different demons. It always haunts them and [Name] wished he noticed more.

The [Hair color] haired man wished he came earlier to help Percy, but instead he was gone for a month. He never knew the problem was after just two days ago. He was too busy in his job that he never got to send letters or spend time with Percy nor the Weasleys. And he regretted it.

[Name] pulled the ginger into a hug as he let go of Percy's hand. Rubbing the ginger's back in an effort to console him as Percy cried onto his chest, soaking his suit yet the [Hair color] haired man did not care, what matters now was Percy. And only Percy.

"It's okay... it's okay..." [Name] muttered to Percy's ear as he hugged the ginger tighter as he heard Percy's sobs. "Everything will be fine, Perce," he said.

"Don't leave... d-don't leave me too..." Percy cried, gripping the [Hair color] haired man's suit tightly. The ginger seemed to think that if he would let go, [Name] would leave him alone, like his family right now. And he didn't want that. Percy can not bare to see [Name] leave him. Not now or ever. Especially now that he lost contact with his family and is all alone.

"I won't..." The [Hair color] haired man has promised.

"I'll still be here..." [Name] had said. Tears seemed to threaten to fall down his eyes as he can not bare to hear the ginger in his arms be in so much pain. "I'll always be here, you stupid git."

[Name] looked at the man wrapped around his arms with a soft yet tired look. He finally consoled Percy and made the ginger to stop crying awhile ago. They still stayed hugging each other though as it brought comfort to both the two men and it was honestly nice. From the emotional outburst that Percy had to the tiredness [Name] felt from the weeks he was away with working. It brought solace to the two as they were in each other embrace.

"Percy?" The [Hair color] haired man called. The ginger let out a hum as he felt [Name] held him close. "I... I..." Percy rosed a brow at the hesitation the [Hair color] haired man was expressing. Lifting his head off from [Name] chest, Percy looked at the [Hair color] haired man who had his eyebrows furrowed and a very contemplating look plastered on his face.

"'I' what?" Percy asked, his voice rather course from his earlier outburst.

"I... I-- bloody hell?" [Name] cursed and it honestly made the ginger let out a snort. This was unbecoming of [Name]. Cursing? Stuttering and being all soft? Well, technically Percy had seen the [Hair color] haired man to be soft and caring a lot of times but it was usually when he needed too or to younger children. But still, it was odd that [Name] seemed to be acting strange.

"Did you finally became as dumb as a troll?" Percy asked, there was a slight teasing in his tone which made the [Hair color] haired man holding him narrowed his [Eye color] eyes to wards his direction. Clearly not appreciating the insult, not that Percy would ever care really. Percy knew that [Name] knew he was just joking around anyways.

Grunting in annoyance, the [Hair color] haired man rolled his eyes at the ginger's comment.[Name] then leaned down as he placed his lips onto Percy's. "Shut up for a second will you?" He muttered onto the kiss as the ginger's face flushed but nevertheless gave in. Closing his eyes as he did as he leaned pressed himself closer to [Name]'s form.

It started off as a soft and sweet little kiss. Yet as the seconds passed, the kiss involved into something more passionate as [Name] the ginger so close towards him. Percy gripping the [Hair color] haired man's suit tightly as he felt one of [Name]'s hands trail on his back. The sensation of [Name]'s fingers trancing his spine and the protective and close hold the [Hair color] haired man was giving, it made Percy felt safe and content. The fight he had with his family and the stress of working with the ministry seemed to disappear just for that moment.

After awhile, the two parted as soft pants leaving their lips. Percy still had that shade of flush on his cheek aswell as [Name] who look both flustered and breathless. The [Hair color] haired man looked away from the ginger's curious eyes that looked at him.

"W... what was that about?" The ginger asked. He didn't mind the kiss, he misses the [Hair color] haired man a lot but he was confused and curious. Percy wanted to know why [Name] just straight up started acting weird then kiss him immediately.

"I... fuck-- I love you, you stupid git..." [Name] had finally said out. Percy raised a brow. Was that all? Was the [Hair color] haired man hesitant just to say to him that he loves him? The ginger didn't know what to feel. Why was [Name] so hesitant to say 'i love you' to him? It wasn't the first time they said those words. It wasn't uncommon to say those words, so why was [Name] so hesitant? Percy didn't know.

Percy was snapped out fo his thoughts when [Name] place his face on the crook of the ginger's neck. The next sentence that left the [Hair color] haired man's lips made Percy realized why. "And I want to spend my life with you..."

The ginger on [Name]'s arms frozed for a second at his words. Was [Name]... was he proposing to him...? Was... was the [Hair color] haired man serious...?

"P-pardon?" Percy managed to stutter out. The ginger had so many emotions mixing inside of him. Happiness, love, worry, and so much more.

"What I'm saying is... when everything settles down a bit, I want to marry you, you stupid git," [Name] muttered as he lifted his head away from Percy's neck and turned to look at Percy in the eye. His eyes filled with soft and warmth that made Percy smile.

"You're the stupid git, stupid git," Percy had said as he rolled his eyes. His smile widen when he saw [Name] grin at him and then leaned down to place a soft kiss on his forehead.

"Yeah, sure I am," [Name] said. A loving smile on his lips as he leaned down again and pressed a kiss on the ginger, on the lips this time.

#harry potter #harry potter x male reader #percy weasley #hp #hp percy #percy #weasley #percy x male reader #percy weasley x male reader #hr x male reader #weasley x male reader #x male reader #male reader insert #male reader #top male reader #dom male reader #i fucking love percy weasley

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sunfloweradoring · 5 years ago

Text

the one where they talk about the past

hiya guys! i just wanted to added a small trigger warning at the start of this piece as it will contain mentions of abuse, cheating and the death of a parent. please proceed with caution xxx

word count: 2.2k

masterlist

1st October

“Why didn’t you leave?” My voice cut through the silent air, causing Harry’s eyes to shoot up from his plate of lasagna, almost dropping his cutlery. “Why didn’t- what are you on about?” He brows were squeezed together in utter confusion, now leaning back in his chair. I shifted in my own, my hand lazily reaching for the glass of rosè wine I’d been sipping throughout dinner. “Do you remember that time... like literally just after we officially got together? We were at your old place and we stayed up all night just talking. You told me all about your childhood and what it was like when your parents split up,” Harry’s face visibly winced at my words, clearly not expecting this sort of a conversation on a Wednesday evening over dinner. “And I told you about my childhood and what it was like growing up. Do you remember that?” He nodded slowly, his eyes still scanning me with a look mixed with hesitation and confusion. “Well why didn’t you leave then?” I clarified my earlier question, now tucking back into my food. A long puff of air I hadn’t realised he was holding was pushed forcefully from Harry’s lips as he reached up and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Uh... Well, I mean,” He looked around the table, the plates, the glasses and my face for almost a whole minute as he desperately tried to find his words. “Well to be completely honest with you it never crossed my mind. To leave. I thought we were just being vulnerable and you know, getting to know each other at the start of a relationship. I thought it was normal.” “Oh no, I think it was normal too. I just, I don’t know... pretty much everyone I’d been honest with about it until that point became weird and either distanced themselves or completely changed the subject.” I shrugged a little as I spoke. “Why are you asking about this?” Harry questioned. “It was like, what, best part of five years ago, lovie? Why are you bringing this up now?” My face softened at the look of concern on his features. “Nothing weird, baby, I was just wondering.” “What’s prompted it though?” Now it was my turn to become hesitant. “Lovie? What’s wrong?” “Do you not remember what day it is?” My voice was extremely quiet; if there had been any other sound in the house I’m sure he would have missed it. Harry stood up, poking his head into the kitchen where we kept the calendar that was decorated with numerous events and reminders for the both of us. I knew he’d seen it when a long sigh came from the kitchen doorway. “Christ... ‘M sorry, love. I’ve just been so busy, and a little stressed. Quite frankly I’ve forgotten the day of the week, let alone the date. C’mere.” He emerged from the kitchen, holding his hand out for me to take. I slowly stood up from seat, taking his outstretched fingers and lacing them with my own before he pulled me against him, wrapping his other arm tightly around my back. A delicate kiss was pressed to my head as I nuzzled against his chest. --------- 2011

“Alright, enough about me. What about you? What was Miss Y/N like growing up then?” Harry cut off my giggles after a particularly amusing anecdote about the time he’d mortally embarrassed himself in front of his crush aged 8. He nudged me with his finger, causing another cascade of giggles to escape my parted lips. “Okay, okay! It’s really not that funny!” He whined softly, and despite the almost completely darkness in his room I could see the pout on his mouth. After a second of calming down, I leaned across to place a quick peck against his lips. “What do you wanna know then?” I asked gently, trying to even out my voice to cover up how nervous I felt at the prospect of laying bare some of my most intimate secrets. “Everything.” He replied with a small chuckle. “Wanna know all the gory details.” He teased. I let out a small nervous laugh. “You do realise that’s not really a joke when it comes to me, right? There’s are a lot of gory details.” I admitted in a soft voice, almost ashamed to admit this much. I heard the pillow move as Harry’s face turned to me. “What do you mean?” “It’s just a bit sad really.” I mumbled in reply. “I mean, you know that Saoirse warned me when we got together with her whole ‘she’s been through so much shit, you better treat her with respect’ speech. But you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.” He cleared his throat. “Equally, however,” He added after a moment of silence between us. “If you’re worried about judgement or something, you know I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Well I guess you were open and honest with me, right?” I spoke, sitting up against the pillows. I felt Harry shifting around beside me as he too sat against the headboard and pillows.

“Before you start... could I, um,” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Could I hold you?” I let out a small laugh, not replying verbally. Instead, I scooted closer to close the already minuscule space and lifted his arm up and around my shoulders as I snuggled into his side.

“Better?”

“Much, thanks.” He replied, pressing a kiss to my hairline. “Alright, tell me everything, not judgement, nothing.” I inhaled deeply before I began.

“Okay, well I when I was born it was just me, my brother and my parents. And everything was all good for a few years, like we had a great time as a family, I was doing ballet twice a week, I had acting lessons and singing lessons,”

“You had singing lessons? I’ve never heard you sing!” Harry interrupted. I playfully slapped his chest.

“Don’t interrupt!” I laughed, getting a short ‘sorry’. “Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I had a great early childhood. But then when I was about six, my mum got really ill. And you already know from the small amount I’ve talked about her, she was like my best friend, so I took it really hard because even though I was so young at the time, I understood that she was ill, and even though no one told me at the time I knew she wasn’t going to get better.” I paused for a second to gather myself.

“You alright?” Harry spoke softly, his hand softly caressing up and down my arm. I nodded in response.

“She died when I was ten. The 1st of October. But it was the longest four years of my life. We had to watch her slowly get worse and worse, and by the end she didn’t know who we were.”

“What did she have?”

“She got dementia.” I muttered quietly.

“I didn’t know you could get that if you weren’t like, seventy.”

“Well you can. It’s really rare, but you can.” I explained. “Anyway, I was heartbroken, but it was around the time I was doing Atonement so everyone there knew what was happening at home, but they were all so lovely, and kind, and supportive which really helped me through it. But then after all the press and when the film was out, my dad just changed. We hadn’t been extremely close before because, as I said, I was closer with my mum, but that’s when he was just unrecognisable.”

“What do you mean?”

“He um... well he...”

“Did he hit you?” His voice was just above a whisper, almost like he didn’t want to even ask the question but couldn’t help himself. I just nodded in response. “Fuck,” He breathed, unconsciously squeezing him closer to me. “Fuck I’m so sorry.”

“It-it’s alright.” I brushed it off. “At the time my brother was just not doing anything; he became this spoilt arsehole after my mum died because my dad thought the sun shone out of his arse or something so he didn’t do anything to help me. He never stuck up for me. And then when I was twelve he introduced me and my brother to his girlfriend... and his seven year old daughter he’d had with her in secret. And that was it, I couldn’t take anymore. I finally found the courage to talk to someone and reached out to my aunt and told her everything. She saved me and let me move in with her and my cousins. They brought me up as their own from then on really. That’s why they’re basically my parents and my cousins are basically my brothers.”

A long silence fell over both of us. I felt too shy (ironically after sharing some of the biggest secrets I held), and I didn’t know what Harry was thinking.

“What about your dad and your brother? What happened to them?” Harry asked.

“We haven’t spoken to my brother for years because he said he couldn’t believe how my aunt had ruined our family by taking me away. And my dad was in prison last I heard. I was like fifteen I think, but he was arrested for throwing his wife and daughter around. Never heard from him again.”

---------

“Do you wanna know what I was thinking that night?” Harry asked, his face still nuzzled into my hair as I held him against me. I nodded in reply. “Well firstly,” His hands moved down to my waist as he pulled me away from the table - our food long forgotten - and towards the sofa. He sunk into the cushions before pulling me gently on top of his lap, wrapping me up once more in his arms. “I thought you were the strongest person I’d ever met.” I propped my head on his shoulder, looking up at the side of his face as he spoke. “I’d never seen you angry, or upset, or judgemental of anybody. Granted I’d only known you a few months at that point, but I thought it was so incredible you had this ability to be so loving and kind despite everything you’d experienced.” His large hand moved in soothing patterns up and down my back as his lips moved with his word; I felt somewhat transfixed by the way his mouth curved with his sound.

“But they hadn’t done any of it, had they?” I countered, my hand on his chest, pointer finger swirling the patterns being drawn onto my back on his chest.

“No,” He agreed. “But still. Secondly, though, I felt so angry.”

“Angry?” I repeated, brows furrowing.

“Mhm,” He hummed, nodding gently. “I was so, so angry that anyone could treat you like that. I know we hadn’t been together long, but I knew even then that I was so in love with you. And the thought of someone being capable of doing that to such an innocent and vulnerable child made me sick. I genuinely wanted to give your dad a piece of my mind, but obviously I wouldn’t have because I was a child myself but I felt so protective over you.” He softly raised my chin so our eyes could meet. “You’re everything I could have ever wanted, my love. You mean the absolute world to me and I just couldn’t stand the thought of something like that happening to you. I vowed that our kids wouldn’t experience any of the horrors you did.”

“Our kids?” I felt somewhat dumbfounded at this. Yeah, we’d discussed the idea of marriage and children at some point in our futures, but it had been very fleeting - especially the topic of children. It was no secret Harry was a master with children and they seemed to have this unexplainable attachment to him, but we’d never fully admitted, yes we want to make children together even though we’d been together for so many years. “You want to have kids with me?” Harry let out a breathy laugh, running his thumb gently over my cheek as he gazed at me.

“Yeah, of course I do, lovie. I think you’ll be the best mum in world. You’re gonna love them unconditionally and they’re gonna idolise you. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I want to marry you. I want to love you for the rest of my life. I want to grow old with you and make a family and have grandchildren running around us.” Harry beamed, his eyes sparkling with love and excitement. I leaned forward, pressing a long kiss against his lips. I felt his mouth curve into a smile against mine as he kissed me with such deep love and feeling my eyes were stinging with tears.

“I love you,” I whispered, pulling away enough to rest my forehead against his.

“I love you so much.” He replied, gently grazing his nose against mine. We stayed in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, exchanging loving kisses and cuddling against each other before either of us remembered the dinner we’d prepared. As we returned to our seats and began eating the food that was a little cold (but we were too preoccupied shooting each other essentially real life heart eyes to care), Harry spoke up again. “Beside, I already know how I’m going to propose to you.”

I nearly choked on my mouthful at that. “You what?!”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #one direction #one direction imagines #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles angst #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb

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365days365movies · 4 years ago

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April 3, 2021: Duck Soup (Review)

I think I’m a Marx Brothers fan now?

I really liked this movie. I really did, and it’s genuinely one of my favorite comedies so far this month...even if I don’t think it’s as good as the other two. A paradox, I’m aware. But, to treat this like the others, let’s see what happened to the Marx Brothers after this film.

Unlike Chaplin and Keaton, I won’t be going as in detail about these guys individually. They were successful throughout the 1940s, partnered with UA (unsurprisingly), and each eventually split off on their separate ways. Zeppo was first in 1933, right after Duck Soup, as he really wasn’t as featured as the rest of them. He and Gummo Marx went into business together, making a gigantic talent agency. Both were also engineers later in life, with Gummo making raincoats, and Zeppo making plane parts!

The remaining three persisted, then also eventually went their separate ways. Chico got WAY into gambling, racking up a fuckton of debt in the process, but he also starting a big band act. Harpo continued to perform on screen and stage for the rest of his life. And Groucho...well, Groucho never really stopped. Television appearances and film appearances persisted well into the ‘50s and ‘60s, until Groucho stepped away...for a bit, anyway.

And then, well...Chico dies on October 11, 1961, of severe arteriosclerosis, and at the age of 74. This broke all of the brothers (and their sister), especially Groucho. Three years later, shortly after an appearance on stage in September 1964, Harpo died of heart failure. Again, this broke Groucho, and the remaining three brothers. The only one of the brothers left to perform now was Groucho, so let’s look at him a little more, shall we?

Groucho, with his iconic eyebrows and greasepaint mustache, was BY FAR the most famous of the brothers. He was married three times, all of which ended in divorce. With the last one, he was 40 years his wife’s senior. WOW. OK. He had three children, two of whom had children of their own. And by the time of his last divorce, Groucho was 79 years old, and was a Hollywood and television legend (due to his appearances as host of the show You Bet Your Life in the 1940s and ‘50s). Also, fun fact, dude LITERALLY danced on Hitler’s grave! HA! NICE!

He continued making appearances in the ‘70s, which may have been the result of his agent Erin Fleming, who maaaaaaaay have pushed the elderly actor too hard. This is also considering the increasingly senility that Marx was experiencing, being in his 80s at this point. Eventually, she was fired, and Marx began to settle into his old age. He was given an honorary Academy Award in 1974, and given a standing ovation. This is the last time that he would appear publicly in such a major setting. Gummo died in April of 1977, and Groucho followed soon afterwards, passing away on August 19, 1977, at the age of 86.

Zeppo, the youngest of the brothers, would pass away in November of 1979 at the age of 78, of lung cancer, and was the last of the Marx Brothers alive. And so goes one of the greatest families in film history. Hot damn. I really should watch more of their films.

But let’s FINALLY talk about this picture! What exactly did I think, after all that? Check here for the Recap, and read on for the Review!

Review

Cast and Acting: 9/10

MAN, the Marx Bros are great! Like, holy shit! Zeppo, sadly, doesn’t really get a chance to truly shine, which was something that haunted his career with his brothers (and eventually led him to leave the group altogether). Harpo and Chico are both REALLY good here, playing off each other and playing to their strengths individually. Seriously, they’re great...but nobody here is as good as Groucho Marx. Like, dear Lord, Groucho is fantastic in this movie. Sure, a lot of that is in the writing and jokes, but the DELIVERY of those jokes! Hot damn! So, why the 9? Well...everybody else. Sorry, Margaret Dumont and Louis Calhern are just in a different film entirely. In fact...they’re actually not in a film, but in a play. Yeah, Dumont especially is acting for the stage, rather than for a film audience. And...eh. It’s not terrible, but it definitely shows. Still, the Marx Brothers more than make up for any flaws there.

Plot and Writing: 9/10

I thought the Marx Bros. wrote this movie, but no! Instead, it’s Bert Kalmar, Harry Ruby, Arthur Sheekman, and Nat Perrin. Kalmar and Ruby were a songwriting duo, who had been working with the Marx Bros. on stage for years before they’d been in film. Sheekman was their writer for a few of these stage productions as well, and Nat Perrin was a film screenwriter, who would eventually move on to producing and writing...the original Addams Family TV series? DAMN! All four men were friends to the Marx Bros. throughout their lives, and they injected their flair into this film. So, why the 9? The jokes are absolutely fantastic, for sure...but the ending is a little abrupt for me, and hindered by the random-ass musical number near the end. Nitpicking, in other words. It’s still fantastic.

Directing and Cinematography: 9/10

Hey, Leo McCarey, how’s it been? I think you did a pretty good job with this one, although I’m not going to claim that it’s my favorite. I do think An Affair to Remember was a little better than this, direction-wise. But Henry Sharp, your cinematography is goddamn SOLID in this movie, real talk. Still, good job to you both!

Production and Art Design: 9/10

And yeah, this film does look great. Despite not being based off of a stage production, it certainly feels like I’m watching I professionally produced play. The budget for this one must’ve been high, because the costuming and sets are pretty well-constructed all around. Not The General or The Gold Rush good, but still great.

Music and Editing: 9/10

And finally, the music. Done by the afore-mentioned Bert Kalmary and Harry Ruby, this music is...mostly pretty great. The opening song is a little off for me, and I’m not a massive fan of the random ending number, but the songs are still well-made and performed. Seriously, I don’t have any real complaints about it all, even though I would put in in my playlist or anything. And LeRoy Stone’s editing is also pretty solid, while we’re at it.

For you, Marx Bros., I grant a 90%!

This movie is a hell of a lot of fun, and a great introduction to the Marx Bros. I really need to watch Animals Crackers and A Night at the Opera, now. I love it, seriously.

But now that we’re into talkies, I think it’s time to revisit somebody from the past, attempting to break into this new era. I could go for a Laurel and Hardy film, or the Three Stooges, or even Abbott and Costello (yeah, forgot to mention them in the Recap Intro, sorry), but...no. No, we need to move on into the realm of talkies, and also close out this early era with an old friend...who isn’t doing great right now.

April 4, 2021: The Great Dictator, dir. Charlie Chaplin

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melodious-madrigals · 4 years ago

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we should just kiss (like real people do)

hi @misha-winchester, i am your wondertrev secret santa! i hope you had a lovely christmas season/whatever holidays you may celebrate, and i hope you have a very happy new year.

Pairing: Diana Prince/Steve Trevor Words: 8′609 Rating: T (swearing) AO3 tags: Modern Setting/No Powers, co-workers, Fake Dating, ‘and there was only one bed’, Hallmark-movie-esque midsunderstandings, Happy Ending Summary: Etta just invited Steve’s significant other along on their group holiday vacation. The only problem? He made said significant other up to get out of a series of set-ups six months ago, and forgot to set the record straight. Enter Diana, his newest co-worker and real-life crush, who doesn’t have any holiday plans and is somehow offering to help him out.

i have been derelict for too long, but no more! i’m so sorry that it took me so long, and i hope you enjoy this trope-packed fic, because i couldn’t decide on just one, and then it sort of ballooned!

Read it on [AO3] or below the cut.

***

“Shit.” Steve’s head thunks against his desk.

“Problem?”

He looks up to find Diana Prince, the newest legal consultant at their NGO standing in his office door. She’s intimidating and smart and beautiful and possibly also the kindest person he’s ever met, and even though they’re friendly, she’s the last person to whom he wants to admit what’s wrong. But she’s also looking at him with such genuine concern that he spills his guts anyways.

“The last time my friend Etta tried to set me up with someone, I told her I was already dating someone, and now she wants me to bring them on our annual holiday trip to one of our friend’s cabin.” Steve kneads the space between his eyebrows, trying to get rid of the tension headache that’s starting to form.

Diana tilts her head, confused. “That’s kind of her.”

“I’m not actually dating anyone,” Steve clarifies. “I just said it to get her off my back. And now I have to either say I lied—which will not go over well for obvious reasons—or say that I broke up with the person and get all sorts of ‘holiday pity’.”

Diana leans elegantly against his doorframe. “People go their separate ways all the time, no? Besides, maybe it’s a bit soon for a weekend away with friends.”

Steve winces. “It’s possible that I told her this almost six months ago and never corrected the record.”

“Ah,” says Diana, taking the liberty of moving into his office and sitting down across from him. “So it’s rather a large deception then.”

“I didn’t mean for it to get so out of hand? It was just so nice to not have my friends nagging me about my dating life. They’re well intentioned but a little too insistent sometimes.”

“Okay, so telling them is out of the question,” Diana says, very seriously. And—uh-oh, she’s going into problem-solving mode. He’s absolutely mortified that his very capable and very attractive co-worker is taking time to talk with him about this when she’s a literal international human rights lawyer and university lecturer with plenty of other things to be doing. “Hmm. Isn’t that what Craigslist is for?”

“Ha,” says Steve. “I’m never going to be able to get someone to come with me over Christmas on such short notice.”

“Not everyone has plans on Christmas,” Diana argues.

“Yeah, I get that; I’m not even Christian,” says Steve. “But a lot of people still go home because it’s a long holiday.”

“I’m not Christian either and I don’t have any family here in the States. We exist,” Diana jokes.

“Want to be my fake date, then?” The words leave Steve’s mouth before his brain can catch up and tell him what a massively stupid idea that would be, to fake date his real crush, for lack of a better word.

“Yes, alright: if you can’t find someone on Craigslist, I’ll do it,” says Diana, and then before Steve can process: “Anyways, I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time. I just dropped by to give you a hard copy of my revisions. She hands him the legal brief, shoots him a quick smile, and saunters out of his office, apparently unaware of the dazed state she’s left him in.

I’ll do it? Is she serious? For a second, Steve’s mind runs away from him before he shuts it down. She was just being polite; he’s certain of it. There’s no way she wants to give up her days off to go to a cabin in the middle of nowhere with people she doesn’t even know.

Steve reluctantly writes up a quick wanted ad on Craigslist and hits post before he can overthink it. He can definitely do a fake date for the holidays, right? That’s something normal people do.

Three days later, he’s gotten a dozen responses to the Craigslist ad, but most of them are variants of either “is this some weird sex thing?” or “can you please post this story on reddit’s r/relationships with an update on how it went because i’m 2000 miles away but very invested in this”. None of them are a real live person that he can take on the trip to meet his friends.

His brain has also been playing Diana’s I’ll do it on repeat pretty much constantly, so on Tuesday evening, after most people have already gone home for the night, he steals himself and wanders down to Diana’s office. If she’s in, he’ll ask. If she’s gone, it’s a sign, and he won’t bring it up.

She’s still there, illuminated only by the glow of her computer and a small desk lamp—the overhead light is turned off and her coat is on, like maybe she was in the process of leaving and then went back to her desk to dash off one email that turned into several.

He taps on the doorframe.

“Steve!” she says, smiling when she sees him. “What a pleasant surprise! Have a seat, I’m just finishing something up. It’ll only be a moment.”

He smiles nervously and takes one of the chairs opposite her desk, patiently silent as she taps away at her computer.

Three minutes later, she folds her laptop closed and turns the weight of her attention to him.

“Thank you for being patient. What can I do for you?”

“I just—were you serious?”

“Hmm?”

“The other day—were you serious about being my fake date if I couldn’t find someone on Craigslist?”

“I—yes, I was.”

“Wait, really?”

She shrugs elegantly. “I have no holiday plans.”

“You’re sure.”

She tosses him an amused expression. “I am. It’ll be nice to meet some new people.”

“Right. Well. Can I, uh, buy you dinner or something while we go over the details?”

Diana considers him for a moment. “How does Thai takeout at my place sound?”

“Like a fantastic idea.”

On Friday, Steve is extremely antsy. He’s taken a half day, and he and Diana are driving up to Charlie’s cabin after her lecture lets out.

She’s in a good mood when he picks her up, and the ensuing discussion crosses a half a dozen different topics. He doesn’t think they’ve ever had a boring conversation, and they’re more than halfway there before Steve remembers that he wanted to run through the basics of their fake-dating mandate again.

“I’ve never really been much for PDA,” he says, “so they won’t be surprised if we’re not particularly demonstrative. A little hand-holding and casual touching here and there and we’ll be fine.”

“Yes,” replies Diana, amused rather than annoyed. “You mentioned this the other day.”

“Did I? I guess I’m just nervous.” He’s already feeling a little guilty about lying to his friends (again), and he’s suddenly wondering if he’s capable of pulling it off.

“They asked me to invite you—er, my significant other—to a dinner in October. I don’t think it’ll come up, but—”

“I spent a week of October in Europe, and have plenty of university functions to attend,” Diana reassures him. “Saying I was busy that night probably isn’t even a lie, and besides, that was months ago. Take a breath; this will be okay.”

“I’m just rethinking this,” huffs Steve.

“You’re welcome to tell them I’m just a friend that needed a place to stay for the holidays,” Diana offers calmly.

“No. No, I’m committed to the lie now.”

“Okay. Then let’s do this. I’m here for you, you know.”

“Yeah,” says Steve, glancing over at her in the passenger seat before turning his attention back to the road. “Thanks.”

They’re the last ones to arrive to the cabin, because everyone else was able to take the full day off, so they walk into a full house.

“Oh, it’s so lovely to finally meet you!” exclaims Etta, pulling Diana into a hug before they’ve barely gotten in the door.

“You must be Etta,” Diana says, once she’s been let go. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Hey, Etta,” Steve says, pulling her in for his own hug.

“Everyone else is in the living room.”

They make their way down the hall, towards the sound of all the voices.

“Steve!” yells Sameer from across the room when they round the corner. A cheer goes up—it’s possible that some of them have already had a glass or two of wine—and Steve pulls Diana forward to introduce her.

“Everyone, this is Diana. Diana, this is Napi, Charlie, Etta’s wife Adrienne, Sameer, and Sameer’s fiancée Noor.”

“It’s so lovely to meet all of you,” says Diana, moving forward to shake hands and give hugs, along with Steve.

“You’ll want to drop off your luggage in your room, I’m sure,” Etta declares forcefully, shooing them back out of the room once they’re done with the greetings.

“Alright, alright, we’re going,” acquiesces Steve.

“Well, dinner will be done shortly, and I’m sure you’re hungry. Best get settled in before you go into a food coma.”

“Stop making sense,” he snarks, but they all know he’s joking.

“Second door on the left!” calls Etta after him, as they traipse up the stairs. There’s a niggling in his brain about this room, because he’s been in it once and it’s—

“Shit,” says Steve under his breath upon entering the room, because it’s one of the rooms with a single queen bed instead of two twins.

“Is there something wrong with the room?” asks Diana, a step behind him. “I’m sure we can fix it, whatever it is.”

“No, it’s just—I didn’t even think about this,” says Steve, gesturing at the bed. “Usually when I come, I’m in a different room with Charlie or Napi.”

Diana surveys the space in front of them. “You mean the bed?” Her nose wrinkles. “Are you really that uncomfortable sharing?”

“I—no, of course I’m not. I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Well then, that’s settled. I am not uncomfortable. Which side do you prefer?”

Of course it’s not a big deal. Right. He’s making too much out of this because he might—possibly—have feelings. But for Diana, it’s just two adults sharing a bed, which is perfectly natural. But now she’s looking at him expectantly, which makes him realize—“Uh, left, I guess.”

The way she smiles, he gets the distinct impression that his answer has pleased her, that he’s chosen correctly, if such a thing is possible. (He thinks, stupidly, that he would do quite a lot to chase that smile.)

Meanwhile, Diana drops her duffel on the right side of the bed.

“Do you mind if I change quickly before dinner?”

“Yeah, no, of course. I’ll just be downstairs.”

Steve heads back downstairs and pauses in the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face.

He can definitely share a bed with Diana. They’re adults. It’s not strange, and it’s not romantic. It’s just two people sharing a sleeping space because there are not enough beds.

He reenters the living room to find Charlie and Sameer in the middle of an argument about who’s the better cross-country skier while Noor, Adrienne, and Etta chat over a cup of tea and Napi watches over several pots in the kitchen.

“The answer, of course, is neither of you. Noor is the best skier here.”

Charlie squawks indignantly, and Sameer laughs. “That she is.”

“Can someone set the table?” asks Napi. “Dinner is about to be ready.”

Steve, as the closest one to the kitchen, pulls out the plates and silverware and starts setting up the table, while the others slowly drift towards the dining area.

And then there’s a gentle pressure on his elbow. “Can I help with anything?” asks Diana, softly, and when he turns, he feels the air knocked out of him.

Diana is all comfort, in simple black leggings and a chunky winter sweater instead of her usual pristine business wear, but she’s all the more beautiful for the casualness. Her face, too, is wiped clean of standard makeup and her hair is down, and he realizes that she has freckles. They’re faint, just the slightest smattering over her nose and cheeks, but Steve is close enough to see them, and for a second he wants to touch them, trace them into constellations.

Then he realizes he’s staring and jumps a little, moving to rearrange the plate in front of him.

“You could, uh, fold the napkins, I guess? There isn’t really a whole lot to do.”

They work in tandem as the rest of the crew files in, loud and boisterous as they dish out their meals.

“So, Diana,” says Etta, once everyone is settled in their seats, “tell us all about yourself! Steve’s been so tight-lipped about you that I was starting to think you didn’t exist.”

Steve almost chokes on his wine, but Diana doesn’t so much as flinch, simply smiling at Etta and saying, “Well, I’m not sure what you’d like to know, but I’m originally from one of the Grecian islands and I completed my studies in the UK. Right now, I’m splitting my time between the US and the Netherlands.”

“Oh, what part of the Netherlands?” asks Noor. “Sameer and I both lived there, at different points!”

“Just the Hague, I’m afraid,” says Diana ruefully, because it’s not known for its charms.

“Diana’s on a prosecutorial team at the International Criminal Court,” Steve clarifies, which prompts a number of impressed looks all around the table.

“We’re in between cases right now,” Diana says, “and we’re only just starting to file some pre-trial motions for the next thing on our docket, so I took a position as a guest lecturer here in the States. A friend of mine convinced me to take the consulting position at the ARGUS Foundation since it’s not full-time.” When Diana pauses, she notices a number of raised eyebrows around the table. “I think the expression in English is ‘I wear a lot of hats’,” she jokes.

“She’s a wonder,” interjects Steve easily, and he doesn’t even have to work at the soft look that he gives her. (He’ll interrogate the fact that it’s just how he looks at her later, when he’s alone and can have a nice little panic about it.)

“I just like to have purpose,” says Diana, and then Noor asks her about her last case, and the conversation takes on a life of its own.

Diana, as he suspected, gets on well with his friends, fitting in as though she’s known them years instead of hours, and they migrate into the living room after dinner, talking and laughing into the late hours of the evening.

“They are all lovely,” Diana tells him the moment the door to their room has closed behind them.

“They’re okay,” says Steve, but his face is pulled up in a smile, and Diana just laughs. He’s spent all evening getting to look at her whenever he wants, and even though they’re alone, even though there’s no need for his eyes to keep finding her, he doesn’t want to pull them away.

“They’re all so interesting!” Diana exclaims. “Sameer and I talked about linguistics for a full half an hour, and Etta and Adrienne’s stories are incredible!”

That makes him laugh. “Yeah, Etta’s something else.”

They talk a little more as they get ready for bed, and finally there’s nothing more to do but turn out the light and get under the covers. Steve’s tired enough that he thinks he has a decent shot at falling asleep, but he feels a little awkward as they both shift carefully on their respective sides.

“Hey,” he whispers into the deepness of the silky black night. “Thank you again for being here.”

“It is my pleasure.”

He listens to Diana’s breathing quickly even out, and though it takes him a little longer, he too falls asleep without too much trouble, despite her nearness.

To his great relief, or maybe to his great disappointment, they wake up in almost the exact same positions that they fell asleep in, on completely opposite sides of the bed.

“Good morning,” says Diana softly, hair slightly mussed and eyes still a little heavy with sleep, and frankly Steve’s not sure how he’s going to make it through the rest of the trip, because he likes her so much and also doesn’t want to impose his feelings.

“Good morning. I hope you’re ready for another insane day.”

“Once I’ve had some coffee, absolutely.”

“Well then,” says Steve, “let’s get you some coffee.”

Coffee is followed by breakfast, which is chaotic because everyone is up at slightly different times and traditionally, they fend for themselves for breakfast which means in practice that half a dozen people end up doing things in the kitchen at the same time.

The rest of the day is no calmer, as they all pack themselves up and spill outside for a snowy hike that lasts most of the afternoon. Diana, Etta, and Napi establish themselves as the fastest hikers early on, and they sort of naturally split into two groups. The whole group meets back up at one of the lookout points, where the faster group has lingered to let the rest catch up.

Steve uses the viewpoint to check in with Diana. “You doing okay?”

When she turns to him, her cheeks are rosy with exertion, her breath is coming out in silvery puffs in the cold air, and her eyes are dancing. “Excellent, you?”

“Really good.” They take in the snowy view in front of them. “Hey, I didn’t mean to leave you on your own,” Steve says, suddenly feeling a little awkward.

Diana snorts. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I was the one that walked ahead of you. If I’d been bothered, I wouldn’t have split off with Napi and Etta.”

“Right, of course.” He feels a bit stupid; she’s never struck him as the type to do something she really didn’t want to.

“We should probably walk back together though. For appearances.” She winks at him, and before he can respond, Noor is at his elbow.

“Can I take a picture for you two?”

“That would be great,” says Diana, handing Noor her phone as she slips her arm around his waist.

Pictures are snapped, and then they’re headed back down the trail. Steve ends up so engrossed in his conversation with Diana that the rest of the group fades away, and on the last straightway after they’ve descended, Diana reaches out and casually links their hands. Even through their gloves, it’s a giddy feeling.

That night after dinner, Steve steps outside for a moment of respite from the noisiness of the cabin. He breathes deeply, and stares at the patch of sky not covered in clouds, picking out a familiar constellation.

“Diana’s wonderful.”

Steve looks up from where he was leaning against the balcony railing to find that Etta has joined him outside.

“Yeah, she’s pretty great,” Steve agrees.

“I’m sorry you didn’t feel comfortable introducing us earlier,” says Etta so sincerely that Steve feels a squirming guilt welling up. “But if this was the pace you needed to go to be sure of your relationship, to make it solid and lasting, I’m glad you took the space to do so.”

“Right,” Steve echoes.

“Seriously, Steve,” says Etta, touching his arm, so that he’s almost forced to look at her. “You and Diana are so well-suited, and she’s good for you—I’ve never seen you like this.”

“What’s this?”

Etta contemplates him a moment. “You’re happy,” she says simply, and Steve rolls his eyes, because if Etta thinks just being in a relationship equates to—“but it’s not just that. You’re…still. Calm. You’ve usually got this frenetic, discontented energy, and with Diana it’s quieted.”

It makes Steve pause, but before he can say anything—refute her or maybe, heaven forbid, agree with her—Diana herself is bursting onto the balcony.

“There you are!” she exclaims, wrapping her arms around him from the back, and fuck, maybe it is his instinct to relax in the split second before he remembers that this is all an act. “Charlie says we’re roasting marshmallows over the fire, and I’m told that you have the technique perfected,” she says, with all the exuberant glee of a child.

Steve pointedly ignores the knowing, indulgent look on Etta’s face as he turns in Diana’s arms to face her, a small but unquashable smile on his face. “That’s a classic holiday tradition for us—I was wondering when Charlie was going to break them out. Have you ever had a s’more?”

“No, but I’m looking forward to it!”

“Well, then we can’t let Sameer or Etta roast yours; they always burn them.”

“It’s meant to be eaten with a little char,” says Etta.

“Absolutely not!” Steve doesn’t have time to say any more, because Diana has laced her hand in his and his gently tugging him toward the interior.

“Right. This is an American classic and you’re gonna love it.”

After making her the perfect marshmallow—gold and toasty, and soft all the way through without being burned—the rest of the night is spent roasting increasingly silly things over the coals and drinking copious amounts of hot chocolate and eggnog that are optionally spiked, utterly warm and cozy.

“Tell me something about yourself,” requests Diana, when they’re tucked into bed later, still on their own sides but far closer together than they were the night before.

“Like what?”

“Something—well, not something secret, if you don’t want to. But something that most people probably don’t know.”

Steve considers her for a moment, shifting so that he’s facing her, the moon providing just enough light that he can see the contours of her face. “I wanted to be a pilot.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I wanted to be a fighter pilot.”

Diana grins. “I can see that. What stopped you?”

“I decided I wouldn’t really be helping people, and helping people is what I wanted to do. What about you?”

“What did I want to be?”

“No, just—anything.”

“Hmm,” says Diana. “My favorite childhood memories are those of my aunt, Antiope.”

“Was she the cool aunt who spoiled you rotten?”

“She was the aunt that got me up at six in the morning every day to train.”

“Wow, that’s neat, I guess,” Steve deadpans, and Diana laughs in the darkness, rolling onto her side so that she’s facing him, so that they’re almost nose to nose.

“She was also more indulgent than my mother, yes.”

“I think we have very different definitions of indulgent,” says Steve.

“Perhaps,” says Diana, and despite how late it is, they spend another hour or two trading secrets in the darkness before falling asleep. Steve learns, among other things, that she loves cherries more than any other fruit, that she’d rather take the metro than a cab any day of the week, that she played the harp for a while and misses playing music but not playing the instrument itself. When they finally drift off to sleep, it’s still facing each other, fingers inches apart.

Steve wakes up feeling incredibly comfortable and very cozy. It’s only when he stretches a little that he realizes that the warm weight against his chest is not his blanket, but Diana. During the night, they must have migrated into each other, because now that his brain is coming back online, Steve realizes that not only is Diana tucked into his chest, but their legs are twined together. His shifting causes her to stir a little, but only to nuzzle against him a little before settling.

This is fine; he’s not freaking out. Not about how they’re accidentally pressed together, or about how much he likes her, or about what any of this means. Not about lines blurring and becoming harder to make out, not about lying to his friends. He’s fine.

Taking a breath, he weighs his options. He can wait for Diana to wake up and pretend he’s still asleep, and let her figure out how to react, or he can try to extricate himself now. Although it might wake her up, and then it would be doubly awkward, and—

And he’s waited too long in deciding, because Diana stretches a little sleepily and then blinks her eyes open, looking up at him.

“Good morning,” she says, apparently unbothered by their position. It’s making him spiral in confusion, and want, because it would be so easy to lean forward and kiss her, but neither has she directly expressed interest in him romantically, so he’s not about to actually do it.

“Did you sleep well?” asks Diana, gently untangling herself and sitting up.

Now that Steve thinks about it, he realizes that he’s slept better than he has in ages.

“Yeah,” he affirms a little hoarsely. “You?”

“Very well.” He’s considering saying something else—anything else, maybe apologizing for how closely they slept or, alternatively, telling her he adores her—when she continues, “How do you think everyone would feel about quiche?”

“Quiche?”

“One of the few reliable things I can cook,” says Diana, “but I have a good recipe, and I’m quite certain we have everything I’d need.”

Steve blinks. “I think it’d go over well.”

“Perfect!” Diana slips out of bed, sliding across the room with more of her infectious energy as she gathers her clothing for the day.

By the time Steve gets downstairs post-shower, Diana’s got the crust rolled out and blind-baking and has a number of veggies sautéing.

“Oh, good, you’re here! Can you pass me the mushrooms?” she asks, and he obliges, then takes it upon himself to crumble the cheese for her.

“Do you cook a lot?” he asks, and then curses himself, glancing around to make sure they’re alone and that nobody heard what was clearly a question that he, by all rights, should know the answer to. Blessedly, the only other person up is Napi, and he’s out on the porch.

“Not if I can help it,” says Diana. “You?”

“I enjoy it,” says Steve.

“Enjoy what?” asks Sameer, who’s just come down the stairs.

“Passing me ingredients when I tell him to,” teases Diana, successfully covering up what may have been a slip-up, because Sameer just rolls his eyes.

“You two are ridiculous.”

“More like adorable,” says Etta, who has apparently also been summoned by the smell of brewing coffee. “By the way—how did you two start dating? I’ve been meaning to ask since I never heard the story from this one”—she gestures at Steve—“and I’m sure it’s equally adorable.”

Steve can’t believe they’ve come this far without being asked, and that they didn’t do a better job of anticipating this question. He’s about to bumble his way through a response, but Diana, who is now pouring the egg mixture into the pan, has it covered.

“It’s sweet to me because it is ours, but I think you’ll otherwise find it quite boring. My third day of work, I came to his office by accident, looking for another colleague, and we traded a couple of jokes. Two days later, a bunch of people from the office went out for drinks after work, and I ran into Steve again. We spent a lot of the evening chatting, and when we left for the evening, he walked me to my train, and as we were waiting on the platform, he asked me out. He was kind and funny and handsome; there was no reason not to say yes.”

For a moment, Steve feels like he’s been hit by a train, because that’s actually how they met. They did spend an evening chatting, and he did wait on the platform with her. The only bit that didn’t happen was the asking out, and now he wonders what might have happened if he had. Then he reminds himself that it’s all an act, and she’s supposed to be acting like she likes him. He’s getting reality confused with the little mirage they’ve created.

“—it is sweet though,” Etta is saying when he snaps back to attention, unsure of just how much he’s missed.

“Yes, Steve is very thoughtful,” says Diana fondly.

He doesn’t really get a chance to ask her about it, because soon everyone is crowded around the table for breakfast, and that quickly turns into a card game, where they get separated by a few seats. It all somehow blends into lunch, as people swap in and out, Sameer and Noor doing the cooking, this meal, with Adrienne flitting in and out to help as she puts up a few extra lights for tonight’s Christmas eve celebration. He tries not to think about it too much, because Diana looks like she’s having a good time, and he is too, and eventually he gets swept up in the game, focusing on counting trump and keeping track of tricks and arguing genially with Charlie about who may or may not be cheating.

“Steve.” Diana pulls him aside after lunch, tugging him into their room.

“What’s up?” She looks entirely too serious, and it worries him. Is this about their story? Is something wrong?

“First kisses are always a bit awkward,” she says bluntly.

It’s so out of the blue that Steve’s brain doesn’t even short-circuit. He just blinks. “Yeah, usually.”

“Well, I just saw Adrienne putting mistletoe up. Your friends are wonderful people, but if we don’t get caught under it naturally, they’ll make sure we do.”

She’s got his friends pegged; that’s absolutely how they operate.

“They’ll recognize something is off if we’ve never kissed. I think we need to practice.”

Now Steve’s brain short-circuits.

“Practice.”

“It’s the only way to make sure it’s not during an ambush.” Her eyes are wide and she’s very close, so close that one of them could erase the distance without even taking a step, but she’s paused, waiting.

Waiting to see if it’s okay, if she has his consent.

His thoughts flick back, inexplicably, to this morning. (Was it really just this morning that they woke up tangled together? It seems a week ago already.) Knowing what it’s like to kiss her will probably explode his brain, but not knowing is worse. He nods, just a fraction, words caught in his throat, and then she’s closed the distance and pressed her lips to his.

Fireworks are for dramatic novels, but the world still shifts on its axis. It’s soft and slow, exploratory, but the pressure is somehow just right, and it consumes him. It’s everything he never let himself imagine it would be, and more. When she eventually pulls away—seconds, minutes, hours later, he’s not sure—he chases her lips for a moment before remembering himself, marshalling his reaction and pulling away in equal measure.

“Right, so. No mistletoe first kiss,” he manages, because seriously, what the fuck, he’s never had a first kiss feel that natural, that right.

“Mission accomplished,” says Diana faintly. “I think we’ll be fine.”

“Fine,” Steve echoes, and he thinks he sees Diana’s gaze flick back to his lips, dark and heavy, but then there’s the pounding of feet on the stairs and shouts outside their room.

“Steve! Diana! Are you in for another round of cards before we start the movie marathon?”

Diana startles, and takes three steps back, smoothing down her hair, her shirt, before opening the door to find Adrienne there, looking at them expectantly.

“Yes, of course,” says Diana.

“Oh,” smirks Adrienne, giving them a once over. “I can come back.”

“No, it’s alright. I’ll come down now; I want to get a cup of tea before we start up again. Steve?”

“I—yeah, a cup of tea would be great. Black tea—”

“—with a dash of honey, I know,” she says fondly, as if this is old news and not something she’s clearly picked up in the last day and a half.

“Thanks.”

When he collects himself and comes downstairs a few minutes later, he spots Diana across the room, head thrown back in laughter as she chats with Napi over the kettle.

She fits, he thinks. He’s seen her in professional settings, being diplomatic even when she doesn’t want to be, but here, she’s relaxed, and from everything she’s said, she likes his friends as much as they like her. Isn’t it sort of everyone’s dream that the person they like gets along with their friends?

He takes another second to try to untangle his thoughts before he gets ushered back into the fold and has to pretend that everything is uncomplicated.

Christmas day dawns bright and cold, and sees, for the second day in a row, Diana snuggled into Steve. Despite another meandering conversation in the dark—in which he absolutely chickened out of asking her about the backstory she created for them, or the kiss—and starting the night on different sides of the bed, they seem to have rolled together in their sleep, and if he didn’t wake up with an absolutely parched throat, Steve would’ve probably gone right back to sleep, enjoying the warmth. Instead, he extricates himself gently, and by the time he gets back to the room a few minutes later, Diana is up and dressed, dashing any plans he might’ve been entertaining for a bit of a lie-in.

As with most things on their holiday trips, the day is centered around food. There’s a huge brunch, and then a little foray outside—nothing like the hike the day before yesterday, just a little walk that turns into a snow angel contest—and then it’s back inside to start cooking Christmas dinner. It’s Etta and Charlie taking point, because, as Steve explains to Diana, the group rule for any and all holidays is that those who observe do the traditional cooking, and everybody else takes care of the clean-up.

At one point in the afternoon, a trivia game gets pulled out, and in a classic showdown of boys (Steve, Sameer, Napi) vs. girls (Diana, Noor, Adrienne), the ladies trounce them thoroughly. There’re plenty of mimosas and someone starts a Christmas playlist, and honestly, Steve can’t think of a better Christmas in a long, long time.

They don’t really exchange ‘real’ gifts, but they do have a long-standing tradition of an intense game of White Elephant, which happens after dinner.

No less than 4 items (a succulent in a corgi-shaped pot, a coffee mug with some gratuitously dirty language on it, a pair of wool socks with Munch’s The Scream emblazoned on them, and an umbrella patterned with cartoon gentleman amongst the raindrops so that it’s always raining men) get stolen so many times that they hit the limit. (Diana walks away the proud owner of the socks, thanks to a strategic steal by Steve, which sets her up to steal them for the last time.)

The mood is so light that Steve has almost forgotten that this isn’t quite real, that he’s lying to his friends and sort of lying to Diana, too. That comes crashing down when they bump into each other coming back into the living room.

See, Steve and Diana had managed to casually avoid the newly strung up mistletoe all of Christmas Eve and most of Christmas day—at least together, that is; at one point Steve finds himself under the mistletoe with Sameer, and they both dramatically grip each other for a theatre kiss—by sheer luck, but their luck runs out after White Elephant. Steve has gone into the kitchen to deposit an empty tray of food, and Diana is on her way back from the bathroom, and they collide in the doorframe.

Instinctively, Steve puts a hand out, touching the small of her back lightly to anchor himself and steady her. It’s just a casual touch, but he lingers a second too long.

“Oooh, look! Steve and Diana are under the mistletoe!” sings Adrienne, pointing from across the room.

Steve glances up automatically, as though maybe Adrienne might be wrong, even though he knows damn well that there’s mistletoe hanging there.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” chants Etta, clearly a little tipsy, and the rest of his asshole friends join in the chant.

Steve’s eyes flick to Diana’s, and she raises an eyebrow, inclines her head almost imperceptibly. It’s permission, so he leans in and gives her a quick kiss, their lips barely touching. He’s not sure he can handle more in front of his friends right now, not with all of the emotions pooling in his stomach.

“Boo!” yells Charlie. “You and Sameer had a better kiss than that!”

There’s general clamoring of assent, and Diana reaches out and cups a hand to his cheek, to a great whoop from someone in their little peanut gallery. “If you are uncomfortable, we do not have to do this,” Diana murmurs, low and close enough that only he can hear it.

The real problem is that Steve wants little more than to kiss her again, but he feels guilty about it.

“It’s okay.”

She searches his eyes for a moment, and then closes the rest of the distance, kissing him properly. He sinks into it, and relishes in the little gasp he elicits when he deepens the kiss just a little. It’s the catcalling that splits them apart, and he’s sure he looks a little shell-shocked.

“That’s a kiss!” hollers Adrienne.

To his surprise, Diana doesn’t immediately move away from him, but stays tucked into his side, blushing a little.

“You’re all just a little too invested in our love life,” she admonishes lightly, but the point is missed as Etta launches into a bit of a ramble about how Steve introduced her to Adrienne by accident and how she’s been looking to return the favor, but that she’s glad Diana is here.

Steve watches Diana go a bit pink again, and wants to pull her aside, try to clear some things up, but then there’s another round of mulled wine, and they settle in for one last Christmas movie before the day ends.

Diana goes to bed before Steve does, while he stays back to have another round with Charlie, and by the time he realizes that he wanted to talk to her alone, she’s fast asleep.

The morning of the twenty-sixth is chaotic from the start; Diana’s up and out of bed before Steve wakes up, and then everyone is scrambling to pack up before they all drive back to the city. This time, Diana and Steve have got Sameer and Noor with them, because they came with Napi, who’s leaving directly to visit some extended family, and Etta and Adrienne don’t have enough room because they’re Charlie’s ride. It’s a pleasant ride, and Noor, Sameer, and Diana spend a solid half hour swapping in and out of Arabic to tease Steve, who does speak three languages himself, but doesn’t count darija as one of them.

They drop Noor and Sameer off with promises of seeing them at Etta’s party on New Year’s Eve, at the very latest, and suddenly they’re alone again.

“Thank you again for doing this,” says Steve. “You were the best fake date I could’ve asked for.”

“It was my pleasure,” says Diana. “I had a really good time, and a fun holiday.”

“And you really don’t mind putting in an appearance at the New Year’s Eve party?”

“Not at all. I’m actually looking forward to it.”

“Good; I think everyone is looking forward to having you there.”

They’re quiet as they pull up to Diana’s building.

Before Diana can move to get out of the car, Steve takes a deep breath. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, anything.” Her wide eyes are trained on him, and he almost loses his nerve.

But it’s now or never; he has to know if this is just him or if she feels something too. “If I had asked you out, that night on the platform, would you have said yes?” It feels like the safest version of the question he wants to ask.

Diana doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

It knocks the wind out of him and is simultaneously one of the best things he’s ever heard, because maybe that means there’s still time to make a proper go of it.

“Do you—”

He’s cut off by Diana leaning forward and kissing him sweetly, and he instinctively pulls her a little closer, deepens the kiss without consciously thinking about it.

“Sorry, I interrupted you,” says Diana, biting back a smile when they eventually pull apart, breathless. It makes Steve laugh, and he can’t fight the grin that’s also building. There’s no one around to fool, no one around even to prepare for; this is just them.

“Do you want to come to mine for dinner tonight?” Steve asks, bubbling with a profound sort of happiness. “For a real date this time?”

“I would love that,” says Diana, grinning. “No tricks, no fake backstories. Just us.”

“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.”

“Just give me a couple of hours to shower and change and answer a couple of emails?” Diana says.

“How does seven sound? I’ll cook.”

“I can’t wait.”

He watches her go, almost floating from how giddy he feels. As he drives home, he mentally goes over what he’ll need to get for the meal he wants to make. Truly, it was the best fake date ever; he might, he thinks, even consider posting the story of it to the r/relationships thread like one of the Craigslist messages asked, because it’s so wonderfully peculiar.

“Right on time!” says Steve with a grin when Diana knocks on his door that evening for their date.

His smile falls when he notices her face, tired and serious, despite how light it had been only hours ago.

“Steve, I have to go,” she says without preamble.

“What?”

“I’m flying back to the Netherlands tonight.” What? That can’t be right; she’s not due back for several months, and even that’s only a trip. Steve’s brain lags a second and then realizes she’s still talking, dark eyes all apologies. “—straight to the airport from here, actually. I just came by to say goodbye. It seemed like the sort of thing that should be done in person.”

“But what—”

“You know who Patrick Morgan is, yes?”

Of course he knows who Patrick Morgan is; he’s a war criminal who was only caught and extradited recently. It made waves when jurisdiction was given over to the ICC, at least among the relevant international communities.

“The war criminal?” he asks, just to confirm.

Diana nods. “That’s the one. Look, I’m not really meant to be talking about my cases, but I’m on the prosecutorial team and his lawyers are good. They’re trying to file a pre-trial motion that would—well, let’s just say it would be bad if the judge ruled in their favor. We’re scrambling and I’m needed back at the office, in person.”

“Shit.” There’s nothing else to say, really. She’s the one who can make sure Patrick Morgan doesn’t hurt anyone else, and that’s that.

“It’s awful timing,” whispers Diana, and there’s true regret in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize. You’re doing what has to be done.”

“I wish it didn’t,” says Diana. “I wanted to—I don’t know, go on a proper date and go to your friends’ New Year’s party with you, and this has just—it’s mucked it all up, hasn’t it?”

“An understatement,” says Steve, laughing wetly. Maybe—

“I have to call the ARGUS Foundation from the car, get everything squared away in regards to my commitments there. Gods, this is such a nightmare.” Diana’s pacing now, and Steve can see all their possibilities slipping away, now that she’s returning to the Netherlands. It’s not the most important thing, this casualty of what could have been, but it still breaks a little piece of Steve’s heart all the same.

“I wish we had more time,” says Steve, a little bittersweet, because there’s not much else to say. Diana sends him a sad smile and nods.

“I really have to go. I might even miss my flight as it is.”

“Right, of course.”

She looks at him hesitantly for a moment, like she’s going to say something more, and then pulls him into a hug. As she pulls back, she kisses him softly. It feels like goodbye more than any words could.

Then her phone rings, and she looks at him apologetically one more time, a quick, “I’m sorry,” before taking her leave and answering it. He hears her frustrated Dutch echoing down the hall as she walks away.

After she leaves, he feels a little aimless, and a little numb. It doesn’t quite sink in that Diana is gone, but he does think, absently, that something bad was bound to happen, because nothing catastrophic happened over the holidays—no real fights, no disastrous weather; it all went too smoothly.

The next few days are a slog: he’s back in the office, technically, but everything has slowed down substantially in between the holidays, just enough to not really keep him occupied.

It scares him a little how much he misses Diana. They were sort-of friends before the fake-dating charade, more friendly-coworkers than anything, but he got used to her being a part of his daily life absurdly quickly and is having a hard time adjusting back. They could have been something spectacular, he knows, if circumstances hadn’t made it impossible.

She texts him when she lands, and he’s glad to know she’s made it safely, but it ignites a fresh wave of ache such that he’s almost glad she doesn’t answer his text back, or text again. He ends up ignoring his phone, mostly, trying to distract himself from thinking about what wasn’t meant to be. (It’s bad luck with fate: if they’d had more time, if they were something real, he might consider moving, but it’s too soon, too early, even if he thinks he might already love her.)

On New Year’s Eve, he spends most of the day cooking, Netflix on in the background, whiling away time before the party Etta and Adrienne are throwing.

“Where’s Diana?” asks Etta, when she opens the door and finds Steve there, alone, carrying three tiers of Tupperware and a bottle of champagne, because of course she does. All his friends adore Diana too.

“She had to fly back to the Netherlands for a case,” says Steve morosely, unable to say anymore because he might choke up, and crying is fine but not during a New Year’s Eve party.

“Oh, what a shame she’ll miss New Year’s! When is she coming back?”

The fresh, stricken look on Steve’s face tells Etta everything she needs to know. “Oh, luv, I’m so sorry. I know long distance isn’t easy.”

It’s the perfect excuse presenting itself, really. In a month, Steve can say that the distance was too much, and Etta will understand, and that will be that. He’ll be out of this lie, too, with no one the wiser that it started as a fake thing. But right now, Steve is still mourning the fact that it never got to be anything real in the first place.

“It is what it is,” says Steve, trying for a smile.

“Well,” says Etta, also going for something resembling cheery. “We’ve got plenty of alcohol and a place for you to crash tonight, if you want it.”

“Thanks, Etta.”

He whiles away the night nursing a glass of wine and floating amongst friends and acquaintances, trying to enjoy the merriment. Etta, bless her, must spread the word that Diana had to leave for work, because only Noor asks after her, right after he gets inside. After that, he doesn’t have to answer any further questions, and instead focuses on the laughter and brightness radiating from his friends.

At a few minutes to midnight, he slips off to a quiet corner, not quite ready to face the rowdy, kissing couples.

Somewhere behind him, the apartment door slams, and there’s something of a commotion, but he doesn’t bother to investigate until—

“Did I make it in time?” asks a breathless voice.

Steve turns, and there, standing in front of him, a vision in a bright red coat, is Diana.

“But how—?” She’s meant to be in Europe, but she’s very much not. She’s here.

She’s here.

“We finished a little early and I got the first flight out. I took a cab from the airport to get here as fast as I could.”

“You hate cabs,” says Steve helplessly, fixating on something that’s very much not the point because it’s one of the many strange things they talked about, and because it’s somehow easier to focus on than any other part of it.

“I wanted to be here.” Her eyes are twinkling, and Steve can’t quite believe she’s here, on New Year’s Eve, and—shit.

“But what about the case?”

“We got the motion thrown out,” she exclaims, delight lacing her words. “We’re proceeding as scheduled. I’ll have to go back for a bit starting in May, but—”

That phrasing catches Steve’s attention. “Wait, you’re not moving back to the Netherlands permanently?”

“What?” asks Diana, looking genuinely perplexed. “No! It was just a business trip, inconveniently timed. I was never moving back. Did you think—”

“I thought—” says Steve, at the exact same time.

There’s a look of recognition on Diana’s face, as if she’s doing the maths, going back over the conversations they had once more in her head. She bites her lip, shakes her head. Laughs.

“We are both a bit stupid, I think,” she says. “I was never going to be gone more than a week or two, but I suppose I didn’t make that clear enough. I thought it was just bad timing, since we were starting something, but you—”

Steve shakes his head, incredulous. “I thought I might never see you again, but you’re really here.”

Diana reaches out and ever so softly touches his cheek. “Yes. So, did I miss the countdown?”

Steve stops fighting the smile that’s building. “Nope. And you know, they say whatever you’re doing at midnight you’ll be doing for the rest of the year.”

“Do they? You’d best choose wisely, then.”

“I’ve got an idea.” The countdown hasn’t started yet, but he leans in slowly anyways, because he figures they’ve wasted enough time. She meets his lips eagerly, and in the background, Steve can hear Etta’s whoop of excitement, but really, the only thing that matters is Diana, and the feel of her lips underneath his.

It’s just as earth-shaking as it was the first few times, but they break apart momentarily as the countdown actually begins from the other room. When midnight hits, they kiss again, a little shorter this time, their smiles too wide to make it a proper kiss.

“Happy New Year, Steve,” whispers Diana, forehead pressed to his.

“Happy New Year,” he echoes. An endless plurality of shifting possibilities stretch before them, elastic and hopeful, and very real once more. From the other room, the chords of a piano start, a telltale sign that Charlie has started his traditional rendition of Auld Lang Syne.

“You know, eventually people are going to realize our anniversary isn’t in July.”

That elicits another giddy laugh, because somehow, he’s gotten lucky enough that this is his reality. “Yeah, but that’s a pretty good problem to have, all things considered. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“No,” says Diana thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t either.”

***

#misha-winchester #wondertrevsecretsanta #wondertrevsecretsanta2020 #wondertrev #diana prince #steve trevor #userpine

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butterflyinthewell · 4 years ago

Text

Dad took some steps today. He needed the therapist right there because he was so off balance that he would’ve fallen without support along with his walker. One of his feet is curling sideways and inward because he hasn’t been putting weight on his feet. That will be a problem and he may need a brace to straighten that out. It’s related to the whole “don’t use it and you lose it” aspect of Parkinson’s disease, and I was afraid of this.

I hope he gets to walk again as much as he could before because he will be stuck in one room for the rest of his life if he doesn’t. I think that’s the one incentive that makes him want to get back on his feet. My fear is he will then proceed to get up at night like he was doing when he got hurt in the first place. He still keeps mom awake till 3 and 4am because she’s a people pleaser who will give until she’s dead. Black hole people like my dad love finding bleeding hearts like my mom.

I’ve told mom to just put her foot down and go to bed, but I stayed up once to see what really happens. Dad whines and complains if mom says she’s going to bed. Suddenly he will want to be put on his bedside commode (which takes forever and then you wait for him to go and heave him back into bed), or he will want a sandwich or just anything that makes mom have to be busy on his behalf until she’s wide awake again when she was sleepy enough for bed before.

Just...AUGH...every good thing always comes with shit right behind it.

I think I’m going to ask my counselor or psychiatrist if there’s a way to screen for ptsd. My mental health is in the toilet and I’m having bizarre dreams and nightmares several times a week. My sleep is disrupted now, and that’s never been a thing for me. I’m constantly hyper vigilant. I’m having anger outbursts and the kinds of thoughts that intrude upon my mind are horrible.

If something happens to mom, I am helpless in all the issues that matter. Food, I can figure out, but I’m worse than useless for everything else. I cannot move dad to his commode or wheelchair, and he needs some support to move onto them. I’m too small, he outweighs me by over 100 pounds.

Most of my bad dreams are things happening to my mom, or there’s word that something happened and I can’t get any info on if she’s okay or not. Another kind I have is I’ve contracted COVID, or someone who comes in to see us has it and spreads it, and I’m the only survivor. Other dreams are the body horror type where I amputate my own body parts with a saw and hand them to people because I feel useless. I had one recently where I literally ran up to Hannibal Lecter with a knife and fork and told him to eat me, but he took the silverware away and wouldn’t do it because “no, you’re not rude.” I said I was, but he wouldn’t do it. I was so angry! I was angry about that dream all day!

I don’t believe I deserve anything good and I don’t see myself as a good person. I don’t deserve help.

I’m scared a lot. Just...I can be sitting here watching a cute kitten video on YouTube or eating dinner and get hit with a wave of fear.

None of this is how my mind usually works. I’ve never been in mortal danger(recently), but I’ve had my routines and life disrupted to such severe degrees that I feel like I’ve lost control of my life, and to me that’s almost the same thing as dying. I’m autistic, and autistic people are more prone to trauma from ‘mundane’ things that a neurotypical person wouldn’t flinch at.

I’m just worried the “not life-threatening” aspect will immediately disqualify a diagnosis.

In June 2019, I went into burnout after home health visits for dad threw all my routines away and they’re still getting destroyed by it because they can’t keep a consistent fucking routine.

July that year was my dad getting his DBS batteries replaced. It was sensory hell because I got my period the day of the surgery and spent the whole time nauseated and cramping, but being silent about it...only to get called selfish and horrible for mentioning how bad I felt after we were all home again. (Outpatient surgery)

September 2019, mom’s gallbladder almost blew up and she was rushed to the hospital. I was alone with dad, without warning, and had to function using emergency reserves that I didn’t have because I was in burnout. I ran around terrified that any mistake I made would get me screamed at by both my dad and sister. Mom was out of the house from Friday to Tuesday. Dad did nothing but demand and demand from me and yelled at me for melting down. I was almost out of meds and for awhile didn’t know if or when I would get them. I had to grocery shop with sister’s help and she kept getting upset at me for arranging the cart like mom did, and I ended up forgetting things I needed even though I had a list right in front of my face the whole time. I was that out of it.

An aid had to come bathe dad because mom couldn’t do it for at least six weeks. That happened whenever someone could come, so dinner, my showers and mom’s ability to do things were disrupted by waiting for the call that the aid was coming. Coverage only lasted six weeks and then the help was yanked the second mom was declared fit to lift more than 5 pounds again.

October 2019, our car died and so routines got thrown further out of whack because mom and I had to depend on friends and family for rides to grocery shop or go to church. Trips stopped being at a set time and turned into “whenever someone can drive you” so I was uprooted from my day with little warning, and we didn’t get a new car until early December.

December 2019: We Christmas shopped late because of the car bullshit, mom barely got the cookies baked in time, and it was just a super stressful Christmas season.

I struggled through the death anniversary of my dog because that year he was gone as many years as he had lived and I spent most of it in a disassociated state.

Then mom had her bowel obstruction the day after Christmas and was in the hospital from Friday to Sunday. Yet again she was gone and the routine was blown apart without warning. My sister gave me shit the first time I wore my new ear defenders to the grocery store. Dad did nothing but demand and demand from me when I had nothing. I ruined a dinner that I didn’t know how to cook and went hungry but made him eat leftover ham from Christmas.

January 2020, the COVID shit started on the news.

March 2020, I went to the grocery store with mom and shelves were empty like a nuclear war was coming. I was terrified that I would catch COVID and kill my parents by passing it to them. Church closed. Stores opened for senior hours at butthole o’clock in the morning. Weekend routines were destroyed. Choir practices stopped. More routine disruptions.

August 2020, I started having anniversary distress related to what happened to mom the year before.

Then dad fell and broke his hip. I still clear as day see him in his blue shirt, sitting on the stair chair, being pulled backwards out the front door by paramedics with the ambulance lights flashing red and blue under the midnight sky and white street light.

Late September, as I’m struggling a bit with the anniversary of what happened to mom, worrying about dad getting COVID and beginning to relax because “dad is going to be away till he can walk again...” there comes that phone call from shithole New Orange Hills saying they’re sending him home and we find out they lied to us about every promise they made.

October 2020, dad was brought home and now he’s laying in an electric bed in the family room where mom can hear him if he needs her.

Writing that down has me realizing I’ve been experiencing almost continuous upheavals to my routines. Routines give me a sense of safety, and every time things settle something else throws it all to shit again.

So either I have ptsd or I’m possibly developing it, and I’m scared because this seems so ridiculous compared to the reasons other people get it.

#swearing #dad fall drama #disabled abusers #emotional abuse #food mention #tw menstruation #tw pet death

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sunflowerhae · 4 years ago

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butterflies by Kacey musgraves with jeno pls 🥺 I was LITERALLY listening to this song while I saw your post and took it as a sign 🥺

|📣 ▹▹ it WAS a sign my love! Enjoy! Also, I will say this is a bit longer than the others, so yeah lol🦋

Send in your own request!✨🍰🌙

|⚠️ caterpillar’s unfortunate death

“I was just coasting, never really going anywhere. Caught up in a web, I was getting kind of used to staying there”

You’ve known you didn’t like Lee Jeno since you were eight years old.

It was October; the leaves on the ground made loud, crunchy noises that were music to your ears when you walked home, and the weather was just cold enough for your mother to pack you into a light blue jacket and pull a beanie over your head before sending you off with a kiss and your peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

It was the day you had been waiting for, for what seemed like weeks; Miss Stacy’s First Grade Class was going to start raising butterflies.

You had been paired off into groups of four kids to one butterfly. You were in a group with a young girl named Yeri, and two boys named Renjun and Jeno. You would sometimes play tag with Yeri, and Renjun was your tetherball partner. You hadn’t had many interactions with Jeno; the older boy was always too busy playing kickball with the other boys to play with any of the girls - let alone you - but it didn’t matter to you; nothing did. All you could focus on was your beautiful caterpillar, and the excitement you felt about raising and then releasing it.

You had a routine.

Everyday, Renjun and you would come into the class and check on your caterpillar; change it’s water, give it more leaves; anything it needed, you gave it. In the afternoon, after lunch, Jeno and Yeri would do the same. However, that day Yeri had left school at lunch; her retreating figure slumping along as she did the walk of shame to her mother; anxious about the dentist appointment she had. You didn’t think twice before getting up from your spot under the tree and walking to the sand field not far from you; Jeno’s figure in your line of sight. He was waiting for his turn up to kick, laughing at something Na Jaemin had whispered to him, when he felt a small peck on his shoulder.

“H-hi Jeno oppa,” You shyly mumbled while looking down at your light up sketchers, not used to interacting with the elder boy.

“Hi.”

“So um, Yeri unnie left for the day, so I’ll be helping you with your caterpillar duties.”

Jeno gave you a confused look. “Oh, Why did noona leave?”

“Um, a dentist appointment I think.”

He shrugged his shoulders and gave you a weak, “okay,” Before turning back to the game.

You thought it was okay.

But clearly, it was not.

“I don’t understand why we even have to do this.” Jeno whined next to you as you wrote down how much the caterpillar had eaten since this morning to now (2 WHOLE leaves).

“Because, well...it’s cute” you shrugged.

“Well, I don’t want to do this lame work. We wouldn’t have to if we just killed the bug.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Kill the caterpillar? Not on your watch.

“N-no! We can’t kill it! It’s a living thing! Would you kill a cat?”

Jeno’s eyes went wide, and he frantically shook his head. “No! But this isn’t a cat, it’s a caterpillar!” He laughed.

You didn’t think this was a laughing matter, so you gave a small ‘humph’ and turned your head so you weren’t looking at Jeno anymore. Jeno, wanting to play a small joke on you, took this opportunity to silently open the caterpillar's cage, take out said caterpillar, and hide it in between his hands. He thought it was so funny; seeing you turn and freak out because the caterpillar wasn’t there anymore.

What wasn’t funny was when Jeno totally forgot living things need air to breathe.

It was quite a scene to behold; you were standing by the teacher's desk, sobbing so hard that snot came out of your nose, while softly holding the dead caterpillar's body in your little hands and caressing it with your left index finger. You couldn’t help but feel absolutely terrible. Somewhere out there, a little mommy butterfly is wondering when her baby will be home from his adventures in human children's land, and he’ll never return. He’ll never get to turn into a beautiful butterfly, and fly in the wind; spreading his beauty.

Jeno was also trying not the cry. He didn’t mean to kill the caterpillar. He just wanted to play a small prank on the girl he thought was pretty like his mommy. He did actually want to see the caterpillar turn into a butterfly. Renjun tried assuring him that it wasn’t a big deal, but Jeno still felt guilty. Especially when you wouldn’t stop caressing and petting the caterpillar, saying that, that way it doesn’t feel scared, or lonely. Saying that out loud to your teacher made you cry even more, and you didn’t stop crying until you were safely in the arms of your own mommy, while she pet your hair and held you while walking to the car.

The next day, you saw Jeno laughing and playing with his friends; seemingly having forgotten all about the caterpillar incident the day before. Your blood boiled. In the end, you got put into another caterpillar group, and got to release the butterflies anyway; but you never forgot about that one caterpillar incident with Jeno, and you vowed to never let your guard down around the older boy, and to always hate him.

And you had perfectly upheld that vow until sophomore year of high school.

“Now you're lifting me up, instead of holding me down Stealing my heart instead of stealing my crown Untangled all the strings round my wings that were tied”

Week 1

“It’s your fault we’re in here, so shut up!” Jeno had been nothing short of annoying for the past week while you both sat out your punishments in after school detention.

Why were you in after school detention, you ask?

It was no surprise that you two went the ways you did after elementary school. Jeno, being the most popular varsity soccer player by sophomore year - and you, being a valued member (gunning for president by senior year) of the photography club. It was because of the ways you two went, that you ended up in the position of taking the soccer photos for the yearbook. You had to stay at their practice for the whole two hours, but took a break halfway through to catch up on a bit of homework. Jeno, wanting to always be the center of (your) attention, thought it would be a hilarious prank to kick a soccer ball at you while you were looking down at your homework. The first time was harmless. It landed at your feet and startled you, sure, but you just glared at a laughing Jeno while throwing it - albeit, weakly - back. However, the second time he kicked it, neither of you got so lucky.

And that’s how you ended up with a broken $630 camera, Jeno with a bruised (you weren’t that good at punching) nose, and the both of you with a months worth of after school detention.

“My fault?! You’re the one that punched me!” You both sat at opposite ends of the classroom, but that didn’t stop you from fighting. The teacher had walked out to go get more coffee, so you two were free to argue.

“And you’re the one that broke my camera!” You fired back, which initiated you both yelling on top of each other in anger. Jeno wouldn’t usually be too upset about a small incident like this, but after school detention collided with his soccer schedule - which meant that for the next month, Jeno was off the team.

And boy, did he hate that.

“ENOUGH enough! Listen, I really don’t want to talk to you, so you stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine, deal?” You offered, already tired of yelling. Thankfully, Jeno mumbled out a,

“Fine,” and turned his gaze out the window with a sigh, just as the teacher was walking back in.

Week 2

“I need help with my homework.” Many people thought you were an easy A kind of person. You came off as a smart kid, but you secretly kept it in that your grades were genuinely terrible, and just prayed that no one found out.

Usually you would be with your math tutor, but with after school detention, that wasn’t possible. The teacher was, once again, not in the room (that happened a lot, although the times she was there, she was sleeping), and so your only hope was unfortunately, well, Lee Jeno. You knew he was smart - sports kids had to have good grades. You really hoped that he would help you, and wouldn’t laugh, and wouldn’t tell anyone that he did.

When he heard you, he was so ready to laugh in your face and spit out a “no way”, but when he looked up and saw your pouty gaze, well, he was sold. So, instead, he mumbled out a small, “yeah sure” - to which you smiled and took a seat next to him.

It was only once you were already out of the school building did you realize that not only did you two not fight that whole time, but you actually made jokes with each other, and you sat with him the rest of detention.

Shit.

Week 3

“-And so I quickly grabbed her and said ‘no yeri, those aren’t eggs!’ And she spit them out onto the floor while yelling!” The milk Jeno was in the middle of downing quickly flew from his nostrils as he broke out in laughter at the climax of the story you were telling him. You quickly had to shush him while laughing yourself; making wide eyed glances back and forth between him and your detention teachers slumped figure.

It wasn’t that you two were friends, oh no, definitely not. You just had no one else to talk to in detention, so Jeno and you found yourselves sitting next to each other and actually having civilized conversations that didn’t end in having to be separated. The thought of you two being friends still disgusted you, and you refused to admit that you were becoming close.

This is as far as I will get you told yourself.

I only have one more week, and then I can go back to hating him.

But do I still want to?

You didn’t know this, obviously, but Jeno was thinking the same thing.

Week 4

You and Jeno were slowly walking down the empty hallways of your school after your last detention together. Not a word was said between the two of you; both afraid of what might be shared.

You didn’t want to stop talking to Jeno. In the last four weeks, you’ve come to actually enjoy your time together - finding that you had more in common than you thought. While you never would have admitted it before, you’ve always kind of wanted to get to know Jeno, even if you did think he was a jerk. So the idea of not talking to him made you quite upset, though you tried not to show it.

Finally, the two of you got to the entrance doors of your high school, but neither pushed them open. You both just stood there, exchanging awkward glances back and forth, and hoping that the other wouldn’t leave. This went on for around a minute, before something was finally said by Jeno, “y/n, can I be honest,” you nodded, “I don’t want to go back to hating you.”

“Same!” You exclaimed a bit too quickly, the both of you giggling messes at the fact.

“Actually, if it’s alright with you, I was wondering if you, maybe, I don’t know, wanted to see a movie with me tomorrow?” He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, and in the pit of your stomach, you could feel a lonely little butterfly begin to flap its wings as you nodded at his offer with a smile on your face.

“Now I remember what it feels like to fly You give me butterflies”

The breeze from the open windows pulled and pushed your hair every which way as you closed your eyes and smiled from your spot in the passenger seat.

The speaker was blasting with Kacey Musgraves, and you almost felt yourself falling asleep, but the hand that slid into your own had you opening your eyes and glancing at the boy occupying the driver's seat. He was glancing back and forth between the road and yourself with a smile on his face, and you couldn’t help the content sigh that fell past your lips.

“What’s up, baby?” Jeno mumbled, always worried when it came to you.

“Nothing, you just make me so happy.”

Jeno’s smile widened, and he brought your interlocked hands up to his lips, and kissed the back of your hand, before looking at you and saying, “happy three year anniversary”.

First, your mind is occupied with that little 8th year old girl, crying while glancing down at the dead caterpillar in her hands.

Then, you think back to that moment in front of the entrance doors to your school, where that little butterfly in your stomach popped up for the first time, and your heart warms at the thought that that butterfly lives in a garden of its own kind now.

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