#I’m not sure if I made a mistake or not painting the closet doors green too

[l3irdl3rain]

Spent way too much time painting this weekend but it was worth it. I still have a ton of stuff to hang on the walls but I’ll do that another day. I have to give it some more time to air out before I bring Josie and the birds back in here.

I was trying to decide what to do with the bay window and a friend actually suggested I use wallpaper on the ledge so im very excited to do that eventually. I picked one out that’s green with white cats, so the rest of the bay window I left white will look intentional… and not like i was being lazy and scared to mess it up

[theonewiththefanfics]

Don’t Worry, Darling (one-shot)

Synopsis: Falling in love with a co-star is something that can hurt, especially when it seems like they’re talking to other people behind your back, but falling in love with a co-star and being unable to help when they’re sick, is even worse.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, SMUT 

Warnings: COVID-19, sickness, swearing, SMUT (fingering, m going down on f, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it))

Word count: 11 968 (yoikes)

Please note I’m not trying to make light of the pandemic or the virus and those impacted by it. It’s a very real and serious thing, which is why I decided to use it. Please stay safe and healthy, follow the local health guidelines and if you have the ability please get vaccinated. Let’s keep ourselves and one another safe, frens :)

When Y/N got the call she’d gotten the role of Jack’s ex-wife who’d disappeared in mysterious circumstances, she was over the moon. As a Marvel alumnus, she was excited to work with Florence, as she’d loved Midsommar, and knowing she was going to be one of the new faces carrying the next Marvel chapter, she wanted to get to know her. Having played Tony Stark’s adopted daughter since the age of six, she was very protective of the franchise but was excited to see where it’d go.

      Then Shia LaBeouf, Chris Pine as well with Dakota Johnson’s announcements coming soon after, Y/N got even more stoked, and with Olivia Wilde leading all of them, she was sure the movie would be a hit.

      Shia and Dakota had to drop out due to scheduling issues (which Y/N couldn’t lie – she was kind of happy Shia couldn’t do it), and that's where Harry Styles took over the role of Jack with Kiki Layne Dakota’s Margaret.

      Now, when Y/N had seen Harry’s picture next to the re-cast e-mail the whole production had been sent out, she might’ve had a little (a massive, like a ginormous) freak-out. As much as she’d grown up listening to classic rock, due to Robert Downey Jr. and Iron Man, she’d been an avid One Direction fan. Like to the point, it might even seem a bit creepy. Y/N had sort of grown out of the obsessive phase of it all, but most definitely admired the solo albums they’d been able to produce, and when Dunkirk came out, she was excited to see Harry join the acting world, with the amount of talent he had.

      The first table read was sort of awkward, and definitely the weirdest one, given how a pandemic had started, and everyone was at their respective homes using Zoom. 

      Y/N and Florence had been the first to join the conversation about half an hour before the official beginning, and by the time everyone else did, they were crying from laughter and had to excuse themselves from their computers to collect whatever remaining composure they had. 

      “You two alright?” Oliva Wilde had raised her eyebrow, as the women re-joined, still chuckling. “Will we have to use body doubles for the scenes you two are in?”

      “No!

      “Nohooo!” both of them yelled through laughter. “We’ll be as professional as professionals are. Which is very professional.”

      Then Y/N made the mistake of glancing at Florence’s square, and the two busted out laughing again, spewing apologies in between, but no one seemed to really mind. In fact, it looked like they appreciated how casual and open everyone was being, hoping the set wouldn’t be stiff either when they moved onto filming.

      And for the two women, it wasn’t really. Actually, they grew closer than ever. The amount of time Florence spent in Y/N’s trailer was to the point that the two started to talk about just moving in together. After scouring the nearby apartments for rent, they settled on a three-bedroom apartment, as two-bedroom ones were non-existent. 

      When Harry grew closer to them as well, given how he spent quite some time with both women, they suggested he move in as well.

      “You know, what? I changed my mind. You’re taking away our closet, and I don't like that,” Y/N pouted, watching as Florence lifted a pile of her clothes and moved it to her room. “That’s not very ‘treat people with kindness’ of you.”

      All he did was flick a finger at her forehead, which Y/N swatted away with a smile. When he’d double-checked about moving in with them (which, mind you was the seventh time, and half his stuff was already there), the two women were ecstatic. They got along amazingly on set and basically having a sleepover with friends every night suited all of them quite well. 

      At that moment, Y/N was sitting on the edge of her bed, knitting while Harry painted all of their toes and Florence put on facemasks.

      “Wine!” Y/N suddenly exclaimed, almost knocking over the light blue nail polish bottle as she jumped up, throwing her needles back on the bed. “We need wine!”

      “Do not ruin my masterpiece!” Harry hollered after her, as she waddled away on her heels, toes separated by foam and hight up in the air. She even had to manoeuvre around the carpet to avoid any hairs and fibres that could get stuck inside the still wet lacquer.

      It took her a second to find a bottle all three of them could enjoy, given their tastes were so different – Y/N preferred sweet and red, and didn’t care if it was a three-dollar bottle from Target, Harry had a bit more of an expensive pallet, giving preference to something with a more of a lingering aftertaste and in the higher ranges of price point, while Florence liked rosé and white wines.  

      Taking two glasses in one hand and the bottle with a third glass between her fingers, she shuffled back to her room when she heard the two muttering something in low voices before Harry whispered harshly, “I’m not telling Y/N that!” 

      “Won’t me what?” Y/N’s question made him and Florence spring back where they’d been engaged in a heated conversation when she re-entered the room, putting the wine bottle and glasses on the nightstand.

      Florence waved her off, giving her a smile, she didn’t believe in. “Nothing. Now come on, Harry will do your fingernails now, and I think it’s about time the mask came off.”

      And that’s when Y/N’s heart dropped. She’d been in the industry long enough to know how fake people could be, how they could put on smiles so inviting and friendly while hiding their true intentions behind them. She just didn’t think two people she’d found so genuine and sweet would be like that.

      And the thing was – it wasn’t the first time she’d heard the two whispering like that and hushing up when they saw her enter the room or even come somewhere near to them. 

In the beginning, Y/N had chalked it up to the two being closer, given they had to spend more time together, so they knew one another better, but this time sort of solidified it wasn’t the fact the two were closer, it had to deal with Y/N specifically.

      So, she started to distance herself. She’d had enough users in her life to last her for the rest of it. Y/N excused herself from the movie nights they had on most Fridays, she no longer joined in on the cooking sessions and mostly spent time in her room, or on work calls.

      When she re-entered the flat, four weeks after their falling out, they watched as she nodded to them, and went inside her room, closing the door, much like she’d been doing for the past thirty days. 

      “Do you think she knows?” Harry asked, brows furrowed and bottom lip between his teeth as he hoped the doors would open, yet, obviously, they didn’t. 

      “Well, I haven’t told her, and unless you did, then I doubt it…”

      Harry stood up, running a hand through his hair. “I’m gonna talk to her.”

      “You think it’s a good idea?”

      “No, but if she’s upset maybe she needs to talk to someone.”

      “Or maybe she wants to be alone.”

      Harry bit his lip thinking over Florence’s words. When he was upset about something, he himself did like to kind of retreat and become a little bit of a recluse, to sort out his emotions before anyone else tried to jump in and help with it, but the thing was – Y/N’s distancing started the night when she’d walked in on the two of them arguing, and it’d been about the girl in question herself, so he shook his head. “I’ll just ask if she’s alright.”

      He took a deep breath and went to enter the room he hadn’t seen in almost a month. “Hey.” Harry poked his head through Y/N’s door, making her swirl around in her chair. She looked adorable to him. She’d changed into a big fluffy nightgown, the hood up, a headband pushing hair away from her face with a green facemask covering her skin. The domestic life flashed through Harry’s head like a freight train, as it was something he craved, but pushed it away. There was no daydreaming before figuring out what was in front of him in reality. “You okay?”

      “ 'M fine.” She shot him a quick smile. “Why? Did Olivia send something new for the script?”

      “Um, no, ‘s just you’ve been, I dunno – detached a bit?”

      “Look, Harry… I may be younger than you, but I’ve been in this industry longer than you or Florence.” Y/N stood and shrugged before crossing her arms. “And the thing is – I don’t care for shit like that. So, you two can gossip and whisper and talk whatever you want about me behind my back. Everyone else is doing that so, you’re not that special. But’ I’d prefer if you did it somewhere else besides my room, my space, and I’ll say this once, but very clearly – we’re not friends. I don’t need friends like you. We’ll be civil and we’ll do our jobs, but…” Harry’s heart broke at her eyes, seeing the pain in them as she nodded and made sure he understood where she stood. “We’re not friends.”

      She didn’t leave any room for argument. When Harry left, Y/N didn’t even look over her shoulder to see him exit.

      The next couple of mornings she didn’t see them leave nor come back, seeing as Y/N had the week off from filming, but the morning of the seventh day was awkward as hell, given how all of them had to go and get tested, and well, they had their allocated time slots one after the other. Usually, they’d take one car together, but this time, Y/N drove off on her own, while Harry and Florence carpooled on their own.

      The tests were always nerve-wracking. If one person went down, the whole production did for at least two weeks. And as much as she hated going in alone, she was glad no one was with her in the car, because as she stepped out, a certain notion swept over her that this would be a lot different than usual.

      A doctor dressed head to toe in protective gear motioned for her to sit down, as another processed her ID and work ID. Her leg was bouncing up and down the whole time, and he eyed her. If she could see his lips, she was sure they’d be pursed. “Anything wrong?” He handed her back the IDs before moving to the table where a set of large q-tips seemed to lay in sterile packs.

      Y/N sighed, biting her lip and nodded. “Woke up with a sore throat and a small cough appeared on my way here as well. I wiped and cleaned everything down at the apartment I’m staying at and wore gloves and a mask the whole time.”

      “Anything else?” the doctor asked, writing down each word as Y/N said. “The feeling of breaking bones, fever, muscle pain, eyes hurting when you look up, lost sense of smell or taste?”

      “No, nothing like that. Just a sore throat and a small cough.”

The doctor let out a large sigh, probably from having to wear a full-on hazmat suit. “Alright. Just for safety reasons, so we know who’s a potential contact person, who are you staying with?”

      “Florence Pugh and Harry Styles. We’re renting an apartment together.”

      “Do you know if they’ve had any symptoms?”

      “No,” Y/N shook her head honestly. “And I haven’t really interacted with them this past week, as they’ve been on set, and I didn’t have any scenes to film, and by the time they get back, I’m already asleep, and I’m still asleep when they leave so there’s been no direct contact. We have our own kitchenware, so there shouldn’t be any direct contact. I think.”

      That last bit was half-true, seeing as she hadn’t been asleep when they came back, but she might as well have been. The second Y/N heard the door click, she’d place her headphones on or leave the room, only glimpsing the two faces falling as she did that.

      The doctor clearing his throat and motioning for Y/N to open her mouth so he could take a swab and then to do the same for both her nostrils, was what brought her out of it. She was so used to it, it was like nothing at that point. “Okay. We’ll need you to stay in the car while the test is being run, and if it comes back positive, you’ll be placed in a separate flat, as to not endanger the rest.”

      Her ‘alright’ was barely audible. Fuck. It just felt like the universe was against her. First, the two people she’d gotten closest to were whispering behind her back and being fake to her face, now she might have a super contagious virus to which there was no medicine really, nor was there a vaccine, let alone the thought she’d have to miss filming for potentially more than two weeks.

      The thirty minutes of wait were agonizing, her leg bouncing up and down. Y/N’s eyes kept watching the line of cars slowly move forward through the tent and then settle behind hers. She knew Harry was about five cars away, and she was glad he wasn’t closer. They weren’t really allowed to get out of their vehicles while the tests were being run, and Y/N didn’t think she’d be able to not look back at him through her review mirror. 

      Two more minutes passed when finally, one of the med students in the full hazmat suit came up and knocked on her car window.

      “Miss Y/L/N?”

      “Yes?” 

      “ID please.” It was standard so that no med info got leaked. The only reason she had to rummage through her stuff was, because she’d bite the little plastic card in half if she didn’t throw it somewhere deep inside her bag.

      “So.” The man sighed, and he didn’t need to elaborate. Y/N understood, but still, he had to confirm it to her. “Your test came back positive for COVID-19. The production has been informed, and for safety reasons, everyone will have to self-isolate for two weeks.”

      Y/N’s head slammed against the back of the seat. “Fuck. Okay.”

      “Because so far, you’re the only positive case, you’ll be placed into quarantine. We’ll need the address you’re staying at, and if you need anything from your apartment, we can send someone over to grab a few things. You’ll have to follow the black SUV right there.” He pointed further down the lot where indeed a black SUV stood. “They’ll take you to where the quarantine apartments are. Is there anything immediate you’ll need?”

      “I – uh – I need my pills, my birth control that is. I take it every evening. Computer, chargers. That’s the most immediate I can think of. Maybe some food? I didn’t get the chance to eat breakfast.”

      Even through the mask, Y/N could see the man smile. “Well arrange that. In the meantime, here’s the number for the coordinators who’ll get you the rest of your things and deliver them to you.”

      “Thank you. I’ll call my assistant, and she’ll drive down to the apartment. She knows where everything is.”

      “Have you been in close contact with her?”

      “Just through the phone. She hasn’t been on set in almost a month, as I told her only to come when it’s an emergency… Guess this is it.” Y/N let out an awkward chuckle.

      And truly that was it. With one last motion as to where the SUV stood, she started back up the engine, reversed out of the spot and followed the car to where the ‘Don’t Worry Darling’ production had set up a few quarantine apartments, specifically for actors and crew, speed-dialling her assistant Anna and letting her know of the situation.

      “Shit, girl,” she’d cursed. “That sucks.”

      “Tell me about it.”

      “Okay,” Anna huffed. “Do you have a spare key for the apartment by any case or do I need to go down to the lot and ask Harry or Florence?”

      “Both of them will be at the apartment, given how everything’s shut down, so they should be able to open the door for you. Hopefully, if both of them are negative. If not, call me, I’ll tell you where we hide the spare. Thank you, Anna.”

      “Of course.”

      As Y/N pulled up behind the SUV, a man and a woman in face guards and masks stepped out. She ended the call and stepped out as well, pulling on a cloth face mask, an envelope in their hands, which they handed to her.

      “Your flat’s on the third floor, 367. When you have the list of things you need, forward them to us, and we’ll gather your things.”

      Y/N nodded and gave them a tight smile. “Thank you. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

      With a sigh, she took her bag and entered the complex. As much as she’d only had a small cough in the morning and a sore throat, walking up those flights of stairs made her winded more than it usually would. Maybe it was the knowledge she had a sickness, or maybe it was stress about missing work and putting everyone on lockdown, or maybe it was the combination of it all with her falling out with Harry and Florence on top.

      She placed the key in the lock and twisted, revealing a studio type apartment, and it was so bare it made her heart clench. As much as she felt awkward being around Florence and Harry, their flat was a bit messy, had little pieces of clothing thrown around, giant knitted blankets on the sofas, a candle always lit whenever someone was home. Harry’s shoes were typically all over the place while Y/N’s make up was scattered around everywhere. Literally. Florence and Harry had gotten back early one morning from a night shoot and found her looking under the sofas for one of her lash glues as she started to get ready for the day. They’d made that flat their home for the time being. This… this was nothing like that.

      She threw the keys on the small kitchen counter and shrugged off her jacket. They was going to be a long two weeks. At best.

 ***

       Back at their place, Florence and Harry were pacing around, having heard the news that someone was positive, and everything had to shut down for the time being, yet Y/N was nowhere to be seen when a knock at the door disrupted them.

      Harry was there and flinging it open in a matter of a second, only to be stopped by Anna instead of Y/N.

      “Hey.” His brows furrowed as she and two people all wearing masks and gloves entered. “What’s going on? Is Y/N alright?”

      Anna sighed, nodding her head for the two strangers to go towards the woman’s room. “She was the one who tested positive for the virus. Gave me a list of the things she’d need while in quarantine. We’re here to pick ‘em up and get them to her.”

      “And she’s not doing that here?”

      “Per the safety instructions, she’s been placed in a separate flat in self-isolation.”

      “She could’ve done that here. We’d be fine with it,” Florence butted in, arms crossed over her chest. “We’re more than willing to take care of her. She’ll need someone to help her.”

      “You both tested negative.” One of the people piped up, carrying a box of books and yarn. “I’m sorry, but she’ll have to quarantine separately until she’s no longer infected. She’s under the supervision of doctors, and she knows if an emergency happens, they’ll be there in ten minutes tops. I’m sorry, but this is how it has to be.”

      Harry sighed, nodding as the people exited their place, but before Anna could leave, he took hold of her bicep. “Hey, can you please tell her to call me? I just wanna talk.”

      “I uh – ” Anna furrowed her brows, showing Harry that Y/N hadn’t said anything to her about the falling out they’d had. “I’ll uh, yeah. I’ll do that.”

      With that he was left to close the door and just wait for… anything.

 ***

       In the two hours Y/N had spent in the apartment, she already felt like going insane, having been left alone with her thoughts, so how she was going to do another two weeks after finally getting back into the rhythm of work was beyond her. She didn’t have any of her knitting supplies, didn’t have any of her books (yet), and most likely there was no reason to look at her script anymore, as she’d made up her mind about a lot of things. 

      There was a knock at the door, and Y/N instantly had a mask on her face and gloves on her hands. She peeped through the peephole and when she saw boxes lined in the hallway, three people in masks and faceguards at least six feet away, only then did she open the door and give them a wave.

      “Everything should be here, but if you need anything else just pop me a message.” Anna then pointed at a bag that sat atop everything. “There are the most important things, so you don’t have to rummage through everything and a pizza is on the way while I do some grocery shopping for you. And umm, there’s a paper you need to sing that you know you need to be in self-isolation and that you understand what happens if you’re not.”

      Y/N hoped all of them understood she was smiling underneath the mask, grateful for having them help her out like that. “Thank you. So much.”

      She rushed inside found a pen and signed it, moving between the boxes to place the papers on the stairs so that they could be safely retrieved. With that, the two assigned people left, leaving Anna to say goodbye.

      “Call me.” She pointed at Y/N. “No matter what, even if you just wanna talk for five seconds.”

      “Will do.” Y/N nodded and gave her a thumbs up. “If I could, I’d hug you.”

      Anna sighed, cocking her head. “Same. And umm, Harry told me to ask you to call him.”

      “Yeah, uh thank you.” She knew he probably wanted to talk, so it wasn’t that big of a surprise, but it still made her stumble on her words. “Take care, Anna.”

      “You too.”

***

       The next two days Y/N spent worrying as to how to present her decisions to the cast and crew. She felt worse with every hour, and with that had come her thought process, but as much as everyone was going to be impacted by what she was going to do, Olivia would be the one dealing with it most, so later that night she hopped on a Zoom call with her director.

      “Hey, girl.” Olivia gave her a warm smile, and Y/N almost melted. God, she loved that woman. She was like the older sister she never had. “How are you doing?”

      “I’m alright. Feelin’ kind of woozy from time to time, throat’s killing me, and I’m fairly certain I’m getting abs from how much I’m coughing.” That made both of them chuckle before Y/N bit her lip and ran a hand through her hair. “Look,” she sighed, looking at Olivia. “The reason I called you is that umm… well, I think it’d be a lot more cost-effective for you to re-cast me. We’ve barely shot one scene with me. I’ll be out of commission for two weeks, as a minimum. It could get worse. And I’m definitely not going to be back before I get two negative consecutive tests.”

      Olivia shook her head, running down her hands over her face and then through her hair. “Y/N, I really don’t want to do this. There’s a reason we cast you. You’re amazing, and yours and Harry’s chemistry is off the charts. We’re all quarantining for two weeks, and I’m sure you’ll be fine in no time, back on set and killing it like you always do.”

      “You don’t know that.”

      “Of course, I do! Nothing’s gonna happen to you.”

      “All I’m saying it could take up to a month to get those two negative tests. By that point, you could’ve shot at least a fourth of my scenes. Olivia…” Y/N gave her a small, sad smile. “I know you know I’m right. I hate to pass on this, but I won’t hinder the production. If you want my input, I’ll help with the re-casting, if it takes the guilt away.”

      “I still feel like shit this is an option we even have to consider.”

      “’S not your fault. You didn’t get me sick. We should be happy it’s just me, not someone else or more than one person.”

            ***

      For two more days, it was radio silence from Y/N, and Harry and Florence were anxious messes. If they could distract themselves from the falling out while on set, then now, having to be cooped up inside the apartment with pretty much nothing to do, was so much worse, not to mention Y/N declined all of their calls and left their messages on read, leaving the only option for checking in either through Anna or what she decided to share on her social media, which wasn’t a lot. But the thing was, Harry knew his best bet was to call Y/N in the middle of the night. Disorientated and barely awake, she probably wouldn’t look at the caller ID once. And he was right.

      A bleary face appeared on his screen, eyes squinting as she tried to block out as much of the light as possible. “Hello?” Her voice was scratchy, and Harry’s heart clenched at just how much pain her throat must be in, let alone how she was feeling as a whole.

      “Hey, there, lovie.”

      It took her a second to comprehend the person who was speaking, and she’d be lying if she said hearing Harry’s voice didn’t bring her some sort of joy. “Hey, H. Are you alright? Why are you still up?”

      “I couldn’t sleep. Kept thinking about you.”

      Y/N hummed, rolling on her side, and immediately regretting it as the action elicited a coughing fit. “Yeah?” she asked hoarsely. “ ’Nd what about me?”

      ‘How shitty I feel about everything’, ‘I miss you’, ‘I’m so fucking terrified’, but instead he asked, “How are you doing?”

      “Alright,” Y/N croaked out before her body was racked with coughs once more. Harry’s own chest hurt just hearing them. “Fever’s finally down, so I’m getting some sort of sleep. Throat’s killing me though, and they’ve hooked me up to an IV. They’ll be coming in two hours or so to change the bag. How are you?” she asked quietly. “How’s Florence?”

      “She’s alright. Upset. Just like I am.”

      Y/N’s brows furrowed. “Why’re you upset?”

      “Are you kidding me? You’re sick, alone in quarantine and… and we can’t help you. I can’t help you.”

      A genuine chuckle escaped her. “Didn’t know you had a medical degree, Styles. Could be my personal nurse. Fetch me my water and shit.”

      “No, but at least I’d like to be there for you.”

      “Harry…” 

      “I like you,” he said after taking a deep breath, hoping that the break he’d heard in Y/N’s voice as she’d said his name wasn’t just because of the sickness, but because her heart thudded just as fast as his when he thought of them together, that her mind reeled with the possibilities of where their futures could take them and that whenever they touched, she could feel the electricity that ran through his fingertips, igniting his whole body. “That’s what Florence and I were whispering about all the time. Is that I’m madly crushing on you, and I couldn’t gather the courage to say it to you.”

      A strong coughing fit made her drop the phone on the bed and lean over, as she gasped for breath, and through it all, all Harry wanted was to be there. Fuck him possibly getting the virus, as long as he could make it easier for her in some way. 

      “ ’M sorry,” Y/N whispered, trying to keep her voice as low as possible as to not aggravate her throat. “Harry, I’m so sorry.”

      “Hey, there’s nothing to apologise. You’re sick, you can’t help –”

      “No,” she shook her head. “I’m sorry I assumed you and Florence were talking bad behind my back. I never should’ve done that. And this is not an excuse, I’m not trying to shift the blame from being in the wrong, but I like you too.” She gave him a shy grin that he thought was as bright as the sun. “I really like you too, Harry. I think that’s why it hurt so much to hear you two whispering ‘bout something. And thinking it was about me, and it was something bad, hurt even more, ‘cause I really connected with Flo, and I kinda, well I kind of fell for you. Hard.”

      “You did?” His tone was like he didn’t believe what his ears were hearing.

      “Yeah. A lot actually… I – I really like you, Harry.”

      He couldn’t explain how his heart expanded in his chest while simultaneously was being crushed by his inability to help, by the distance between them, while the hope that glimmered in his eyes at Y/N’s words made her heart break as much as his was, when he asked, “So you won’t resign?”

“Harry,” Y/N made her voice as tough as it could sound with her condition. “I told them to re-cast me not because of you. I’ve been on enough sets and worked with enough pricks, and still gotten the job done. Genuinely, this is not because of you or Florence. I just – I just don’t want to hold up production. You’ll all be out in what – twelve days or something? I’ll be here for at least twice that, if everything goes the way it’s going right now.”

      “I don’t want anyone else to play Larie. You are my Larie,” he muttered, which made Y/N smile, but in a true Y/N fashion she just wanted to make others feel better. 

      “You do know Jack murders Larie in the middle of the night.”

      Harry’s mouth opened like a fishes’ while Y/N’s mouth pulled up in a grin. “That’s – that’s not what I mean, and you know it!”

      Both of them were laughing now, all tension having evaporated. 

      “I know.” She bit on her lower lip. “But um… we’ve gotta be practical. I sent Olivia my resignation letter already, and she signed.”

      She saw Harry sigh and throw back his head at her words. 

      “ ’M sorry, Haz. I didn’t want to but –”

      “I know.” His smile was gentle, understanding. “You always put everyone before yourself. God, this just sucks major ass.”

      “Trust me,” Y/N started before being interrupted by another major coughing fit. “I –,” she took in a breath. “I know.”

      Her heart cracked seeing Harry’s face and his green eyes, the eyes she’d gotten lost in more times than she’d ever admitted being lined by tears. “I wish I could help you.”

      “But you are. Just by – by talking to me, by keeping my mind off things. You’re helping me more than you’ll ever know.”

      “When you get out, I’m taking you on a date.”

      Y/N couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on her face. For the first time in a while, she felt good, despite being sick. “Is that a threat, Styles?”

      “It’s a fucking promise.”

      That night she fell asleep listening to Harry talking, seeing as it became harder and harder for her to do so, so he just took over, telling her stories that lulled her to dreamland where he was there, and she could touch him. 

      The following days she also had calls with Florence and the rest of her cast to explain the situation, but she wasn’t doing much talking anymore, and one night they’d even seen her almost throw up from coughing so much, which broke everyone’s hearts. They were lucky the only Covid case before Y/N had been a light one, so witnessing just how brutal it could be, made everyone appreciate what they had, but at the same time, feel as helpless as ever.

      A week and a half in, that was when shit really hit the fan. Despite her feeling shitty the previous days, now Y/N woke up from the feeling as if she was drowning. She’d fallen asleep while talking with Harry on FaceTime, his features illuminated on her phone. At first, she thought it was just her dream still lingering and causing that effect, but when after a minute or so her lungs still remained on fire, she knew she had to dial the doctors.

      In five minutes’ time, an ambulance was at her door, and it was a miracle she’d been able to get out of bed to open it because the second she did, her whole body pretty much collapsed into the arms of one of the nurses. 

*** 

      “Come on,” Harry muttered into the phone, pulling on a pair of trousers as quickly as possible and a knitted sweater he took from the floor as he immediately tried to redial her, having heard the call drop. “Come on! Pick up, Y/N!” Her voicemail answered instead.

      “Damn it!”

      It took Harry seven minutes with the way he was driving to get to her assigned isolation place, only to be greeted by red and blue flashing lights, an ambulance right in front of the entrance, and it took Harry five seconds to feel his heart drop as a team of three doctors wheeled out a gurney on which lay Y/N, face covered in a mask, an IV stuck inside her arm while a huge plastic cover domed over her body.

      Without even thinking about himself or his safety, Harry jumped out of his car, rushing towards the ambulance.

      “Sir.” One of the doctors extended a palm towards him, keeping him back as Harry tried to get towards the inside of the car. “Sir, you can’t be here.”

      “Is that Y/N?” Harry felt like he was spinning out of control, and his mind was dizzy from not being able to take in a proper breath. “Is – is that Y/N?” 

      “Are you family?”

      “I –,” Harry so desperately wanted to say yes, to say he was her boyfriend at least, but he couldn’t lie. “No, I’m just her collegue – friend! I’m her friend. Is she alright?”

      “Okay, well is there anyone we can contact from her family?”

      Harry nodded, knowing that her mum and dad were on her emergency contact lists. “But her family is out of the country, and they won’t be able to fly out with all the restrictions in place.”

      “Alright.” The doctor sighed before looking back inside the car. In a way, Harry was happy he couldn’t see Y/N because he was sure if he did, he’d completely break down and crumble to the ground. “We’ll contact her parents, but if you could leave us your number as an emergency contact on place that’d be a lot of help.”

      “Okay, uh…” Harry took in a deep breath, held it for five seconds and then let it out before reciting the number he used while in the USA and his permanent UK number as well, so he could be reachable anywhere and at any point in day or night, no matter the time. 

      “Well keep you up to date.”

      And with that, the ambulance doors shut, and they rushed away, the vailing of sirens echoing in the dark night, leaving Harry with a hand in his hair, tears streaming down his cheeks and without a clue as to what to do.

***

      In the end, Harry had gone back to his car and cried for what felt like ages, but instead, it was just twenty minutes. He pulled himself together but was still shaking as he made his way back to the flat where Florence basically ripped open the door. Seeing his face told her everything she needed to know.

      “She’ll be alright,” the woman muttered as she soothed Harry by rubbing a palm up and down his back, letting him hide his face in her shoulder. “It’s Y/N. She’d pull through an atomic bomb.”

      They spent the rest of the night and the following day on the couch, glued to Harry’s phone waiting for any sort of updates. From time to time a text message came from the hospital letting them know what procedures were being done on Y/N, that her parents have been informed, and if necessary, they’d allowed Harry to be the main contact person because of his proximity to their daughter.

      Three days later and the quarantine for the rest of the cast and crew ended, yet when they returned to the set, everyone was in low spirits. Especially, Harry – he was miserable. Every moment spent not reciting lines or acting was occupied with the thoughts of Y/N, how she was doing, was she improving, was she still breathing, how he wanted to just ditch everything and run to her, to help in whatever way he could.

      “This sucks,” Florence grumbled, arms crossed over her chest as they took a break while re-setting already in for the fifth day of filming, eight since Y/N’d been in the hospital. “Can’t believe they won’t allow a phone in with her.”

      “It’s the same policy for everyone, but trust me,” Harry sighed and looked up at the bright blue sunny sky above. “The number of times I got out of my bed in the middle of the night and had the car keys in hand is ridiculous. And the number of times I’ve thought about breaking into that hospital is even more concerning.”     

      Florence let out a small chuckle and nudged his shoulder. “I’d cover for you if you did. As long as she doesn’t have to be there alone.” She hung her head, blond strands falling down to curtain her face. “Can’t imagine how scared she must be.”

      Harry just sighed. There really wasn’t anything he could say. 

      Something vibrated in his pocket, but he no longer furrowed his brows when unknown numbers called, knowing it was from the hospital. It was nerve-wracking though to pick up the call each time because he had to mentally prepare himself for the possibility of bad news, even though he always hoped for good ones. 

      “Yes, hi. Hello. I – oh,” he put a hand over his mouth and sagged down onto a chair. “Oh, thank god, thank you, doctor. Yeah. Yes, I’ll let her know, and someone will be there to open the flat. Thank you again. For everything.”

      He took away the phone from his ear and stared at the ground for a minute before leaping up and hugging Florence, laughter escaping his mouth.

      “What’s wrong?”

      “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong, it’s the opposite. Y/N’s out of the hospital.”

      “Oh thank god!” Her hands flew to hug him back.

      “She’ll have to stay in self-isolation until the two negative tests and will be monitored by the doctors, but she’s out.”

        Immediately he was dialling her, and Harry had never been as happy for the invention of a video call, because when he saw Y/N’s face light up the screen, as tired as she looked, it was the most beautiful sight that graced his eyes.

      “Hey, lovie.” His voice was soft and low as if anything louder would worsen her state.

      Her ‘hey’ was barely audible, but he heard it, and it made the weight of a boulder drop off his shoulders.

      “I’m so – I mean we all are so happy you’re back home.”

      Y/N smiled, shaking her head. “I’m happy too,” she whispered. “I missed you. Missed everyone, but most of all I missed you.”

      Harry was happy they were separated by a screen because if she was anywhere in a five-mile radius, he was sure she would be able to hear his heart beat out of his ribcage at her words. “How are you feeling?”

      “ ‘M alright,” Y/N tried to let him know. “Very tired.”

      “Then get back to sleep, lovie.”

      Y/N shook her head. “Wanna talk to you.”

      “I’ll keep talking,” Harry promised. “Like we did before, okay.”

      “Okay…”

      And so, he did. He kept talking as Y/N listened, and he watched as her eyes slowly closed before she drifted off to sleep. Even though Harry had to go back to filming, he didn’t dare end the call. He’d never end the call. 

***

      It took a month and a half for Y/N to get those two consecutive negative tests, to feel somewhat human again and when she did, she probably garnered at least seven speeding tickets with how fast she was driving down to the set.

      It was the most inconspicuous outfit she could scramble together, consisting of a hoodie and baseball cap, as she watched Harry as Jack lean down to peck the actress’s lips, then step into the vintage car and rev out in the driveway, while a dishevelled Florence started the scene from the side, eyes racking over Jack’s first wife, who was dressed the exact same way, hair styled like hers and even nails painted the same, her character putting all the puzzle pieces together. 

      “And cut!” Olivia yelled across the lot, nudging Y/N’s side and giving her a smirk. “He’s gonna freak. You’re all he’s been talking about on set. We almost had to put a ban on you as a topic,” she muttered that part so only the woman could hear while telling everyone to re-set, so they could do the scene from another angle, but not before asking the three actors to come and look at the monitors so they could understand how to move in order to keep the continuity.

      Y/N moved to the side, ducking her head down as Harry, Florence and Mandy, the actress that took over her role, all leaned closer to watch the monitors. Y/N had to bite on her lip to keep the grin away, as all of them analysed their movements and the scene, nodding along to what Olivia was saying.

      “Y/L/N, what do you think?” Olivia asked, grinning. 

      Y/N stepped forward a bit, seeing all of their shocked faces through her peripheral, as she pointed to the screen, lifting her head so that everyone could see her face fully. “I think it’s great, you might want to step to the side a bit more, Harry, when –” but she was unable to finish the sentence as he swooped her in his arms, lifting her basically off the ground, and burying his face in her neck.

      “Watch the hair! Daniele will have a fit if you ruin her masterpiece!” Y/N laughed, holding one of her hands on the base of his neck, the other tightly wrapped around his shoulders, but he just shook his head, and she could feel tears splash her skin.

      “Fuck the hair!” He let out a small chuckle, and she could hear the lump in his throat. “I’ve missed you so much. I was so scared.”

      “Same,” Y/N whispered. “Missed you like crazy. And your stupid, unfunny dad jokes.”

      “ ‘M hilarious, lovie, what are you talking about?”

      He finally set her down but didn’t let go of her waist, and she smiled cupping his cheeks. “A true comedian, that’s what you are.”

      “I know. Why’dya think I got that SNL slot?”

      But his eyes, as he gazed into hers once more glassed over.

      “Hey,” Y/N cooed wiping away the tears running down his cheeks. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry, cause then I’ll cry, and we’re both gonna be crying messes, and then these guys will have to deal with that.”

      Harry sighed, leaning into her touch. “Happy tears, lovie. All happy tears.”

      The two looked at one another as if there was no one else in the universe. And for the two of them, there really wasn’t. Neither had to say what was on their minds, they already knew.

      His face was inching closer to Y/N’s, and heart started to beat erratically, not that Harry minded, as his palm rested in the middle of her back. In fact, his own heart mimicked the rhythm, but it stuttered when someone behind him cleared their throat and interrupted their moment.

      Y/N hid her face in Harry’s chest as he sighed at Olivia’s raised eyebrow. 

      “You’ll be able to smooch as much as you want, but we need him in hair and make-up.”

      “Oli-“

      “Now,” she let out a small laugh. “Before Daniele removes my head from my shoulders.”

      “Go,” Y/N patted his side. “I’ll still be here.”

      “Is that a threat?”

      She grinned up at him. “A fucking promise.”

      Harry dashed away like lightning, hoping that the quicker he was done, the sooner he could have Y/N back in his arms even if it was for a second, but her attention was taken by a woman with long blond curls, a flowing green slip on her figure; her steps unsure as was the wave she gave her, but Y/N’s heart melted at the sight of her.

      “Hey, Flo,” she whispered and brought the girl in a bone-crushing hug, holding onto her, trying to convey how much she regretted her words and actions, especially because they were unwarranted.

      “I’m so sorry,” Y/N said, and she nodded.

      “Me too.”

      Y/N shook her head. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

      “And I should’ve made sure Harry pulled his head out of his ass.”

      That made both of them laugh, and it was nice to do it not only without having to cough up her insides, but to do it with someone she’d connected with and had become great friends with.

      “He did that. I just hope if he wants to make another move, it won’t take me dying to push him to.”

      Florence pointed at her, a serious look on her face. “I’ll kill him with my bare hands if he does.”

      A small noise of someone clearing their throat from behind Y/N took both of their attentions for them to go onto the actress who’d been cast as her replacement, the woman coming forward and extending her hand for a handshake with a nervous smile. “Hi. I’m Mandy.”

      “ ‘S very nice to meet you.” Y/N tried to give off as open and accepting of a vibe as much as possible, because she genuinely wanted Mandy to feel respected and that she wasn’t a threat. “Before you think anything if you’re worried about me taking the role, don’t. It’s all yours, so don’t worry about that. I just stopped by ‘cause I hadn’t seen anyone in almost two months. Never thought I’d say this, but fuck did I missed people.”

      Mandy shook her head, her smile a lot lighter and brighter now. “I – uh thank you for that actually. I’m a huge fan of yours, and well, can only try and live up to what you would’ve portrayed.”

      “Well, I’m sure you’ll absolutely kill it, and I can’t wait for the movie.”

      It was great to see Mandy’s shoulders drop in relief. “Would it be too much if I asked for advice on the role?”

      “No,” Y/N laughed. “But I would say that you should make this role your own. It is yours. You are Larie now. And Harry’s Jack. Make it yours.”

      As she said that, she turned to watch Harry who was practically bouncing on his feet, green eyes flitting back to where she was standing, and when their gazes met, neither could help the smiles blooming on their faces.

       “You know he messed up a scene once and said your name?”    

      Y/N’s brows furrowed as she looked over at Mandy. “What do you mean ‘said my name’?”

      “It was a kissing scene. The wedding bit, actually. As Jack and Larie recited their vows, and he leans down to kiss her, he was supposed to say, ‘I’ll love you Larie, until the very end’. He said your name instead.”

      That hit Y/N more than a semi-truck wheeling a ton of bricks would. Yes, she knew Harry liked her, and he knew she liked him, but love was a big word, and for him to admit that, whether it was a flub or not, was even bigger.

      Harry was a private person. While he openly talked about what he felt, he guarded heart at the same time, much like Y/N did. But she had to wait until Olivia yelled cut for the day, and had to watch him make a mad dash for hair and make-up before running to the dressing trailer as he didn’t want to miss out on a second he could spend with her. Even as they walked up to their shared flat and he opened the door, his fingers stayed intertwined with hers.

      “How does it feel to be back?”

      “Kinda shitty, honestly,” Y/N laughed throwing the keys to the table and shrugging out of the jacket and taking off the cap, Harry immediately helping her and putting it on one of the racks. “I’ll have to move out, now that I’m not part of the movie.”

      “Why? ‘S not like the production is paying our rent, we’re doing it out of our own pocket.”

      “Yes, but now that I don’t have a job, I kinda need to look for one.”

      “And what says that you can’t live here while you do that?”

      “I –,” Y/N’s brows furrowed. “I mean nothing, really… I just… kinda thought because I’m not part of the movie anymore it’d be safer if I found my own place. But um… I think I have something else I’d like to talk about. Mandy,” Y/N dragged out her name a bit, a sly smirk appearing on her face, “told me you had a flub on set.”

      Harry’s heart was pounding underneath her palm where she’d grabbed onto the lapels of his dress shirt, so he couldn’t run away. 

“I’ve uh,” he let out a nervous laugh. “I’ve had a couple of flubs on set. Who hasn’t?”

      “I don’t doubt that. But she said you misspoke a name.”

      She made him look into her eyes and wouldn’t dare let their gaze break. “You said my name during the wedding scene. You said Y/N. Not Larie.”

      Harry looked like a cross between a deer in headlights and a fish out of the water, eyes wide with his mouth opening and closing, no sound coming out, which made Y/N worry a bit.

      She placed a palm against his cheek. “Harry? You alright?”

      “I – I meant it.” He let out a deep sigh and leaned down to press his forehead to hers. “And when I thought back on it, I don’t remember seeing her face or Larie’s face. It was yours. And the lips I was kissing belonged to you too. I was holding your hand, and you were holding mine. And I know it’s way too quick, for a wedding -”

      “Unless you threaten me with it –”

      “I –,” Harry stuttered before laughing, all tension evaporating from his body. “No, that I don’t want to be a threat. That will be a question asked with love and hopefully an answer given to it the same way.”

      Y/N nudged his nose with hers. “Well, we’ll see. I mean if you don’t kiss me what makes you th–,” 

      But she didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence before his lips were on hers, pressing with such gentleness, it made her weak at the knees, and she would’ve crumbled if Harry’s arms handn’t woven around her middle, fingers pressing into the sides, the pressure increasing with each second their mouths were connected. 

      Harry’s hand drifted up Y/N’s back and settled on her neck as if he could pull her any closer, her own palms slipping over his stomach, pecks and grabbing onto his jaw, fingers lightly scratching at the stubble that’d grown throughout the day. He had to shave every morning for the role of Jack, but each evening she’d see a small, darkened shadow across his skin, and Y/N would be lying that when she’d realised her attraction to him, she hadn’t thought about how delicious it would feel to have it leave small burn marks on the inside of her thighs. 

      Unconsciously, she clenched her thighs, trying to create some sort of friction which became more and more unbearable as she felt Harry moan into her mouth, tongue sweeping against her lower lip, asking for permission without words, which Y/N granted without a second to spare. 

      It was heavenly to have him so close to her. She did wonder if the sensation was intensified by the fact, she hadn’t been able to touch anyone properly for almost two months, but that thought vanished when his fingers skimmed underneath her hoodie, brushing against her heated skin. No. It was because it was Harry.

       “I –,” he was breathless as he pulled away, but Y/N didn’t let him get too far, her lips attaching themselves to his neck, making him groan in pleasure. “I don’t want to push this too far.”

      Her brows scrunched up, as she took a look at him. “What do you mean? If you think I don’t want this, then let me be perfectly clear – I do. A lot.”

      Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m so fucking glad you do, but… Y/N you just got out of the hospital, where you were on a ventilator. I don’t want to make anything worse.”

      “Not your choice to make.” A devious smile appeared on her face, as she stepped a few feet away and lifted her hoodie over her head, making Harry inhale sharply. “So here are your two options.” Her hands went behind her back, unclasping her bra and letting it slowly drop to the floor, the green eyes that hadn’t left her now wide as saucers. “Number one.” She toed off her boots and popped open the button of her jeans. “We can stop this, obviously, just say the word, and I get to my room, start packing and looking for a new place. We can have some dinner and just chill. Or number two.” Y/N hooked her jeans behind her thumbs and slowly dragged them down her legs, revealing more and more of herself to Harry. “We can go inside your room and make up for the lost time. In every position imaginable, for as long as you want. But.” Y/N’s eyes glimmered with mischief as she made her way to Harry’s room. “I don’t think you wanna take the first option.”

      Harry ran a hand through his hair, turning it from the meticulously gelled hairstyle into a mop of messy strands. “You know you’re making it really hard for me to be a gentleman.”

      Y/N swayed her hips a bit more as she took another step closer to his room, the door meeting her back, and one of her hands went to the doorknob, pressing down on it. “Well, a gentleman doesn’t kiss before the first date, and definitely not like that.”

      He stood there, hands on his hips, eyes not leaving her body, as she cocked her head. “So, what’s it gonna be?”

      They were ten torturous seconds for both, hearts beating out of their chests, but it only took three steps for Harry to cross the hallway, his hand sneaking behind Y/N’s back and pressing down on the doorknob as well, revealing the inside of his room. It was messy, much like her own, but it wouldn’t take too much to rip all off the tossed around bedding leaving a whole bed to themselves. 

      “You. Are. The. Devil.”

      Her smile was nothing short of wicked. “I mean you can listen to the angel on your shoulder.”

      “I’d rather listen to you.”

      Together they stepped inside, and Y/N nodded. “Making good choices already.”

      “Can’t get on your bad side, can I now?”

      “I mean you can.” Her legs hit the back of his bed and she fell down on it, Harry leaning over, resting his elbows next to her head. “But bad boys get punished.”

      His nose skimmed over hers. Now he was the one smiling like a devil. “I’ll hold you to your word. For future reference, that is.”

      That kiss was nothing like their first. This was messy, and passionate, all tongue and teeth, hands grabbing everywhere possible to get the other unclothed. Or at least that’s what Y/N was trying to do, seeing as she was pretty much naked already, and Harry was the one still wearing too much.

      Her hands pretty much ripped open the shirt. It one of his expensive Gucci ones, she was quite certain of it, but it didn’t seem like he cared, as he shrugged it off, throwing it to land somewhere on the floor.

      Y/N sighed into his mouth as her hands were now freely allowed to run over his chest, over the ink embedded into his skin, over taut muscles that relaxed under her touch, and dig into his sides in an attempt to leave her own marks on him, much like he was going to do to her. 

      “Think you can take your pants off? It’s only fair.” Y/N muttered into his mouth and his own travelled down to her cheek, then neck and to her chest.

      “You mean my trousers?”

      Her lips quirked up and she shrugged her shoulders. “No, in this case, I meant pants the British way.”

      “And if I’m going commando?”

      Y/N pressed her hand against his chest and pushed him away from her. “You had nothing underneath all day on set?”

      “No! I wouldn’t subject the dressing department to that. But underneath this.” He looked down at his jeans and smiled at her. “I do have nothing.”

      “Well then? Get on with it!”

      Both of them were giggling, as Y/N tried to unbuckle Harry’s belt, his own fingers mixing with hers as he went for the zipper and the button. He nudged his head towards her. “Your socks and pants come off as well. Or we’ll be unevenly matched.”

      Y/N lifted her eyebrow, as she went for her own remaining pieces of clothing. “No socks during sex?”

      “No, what kind of a weirdo do you think I am?”

      “And if my feet get cold?” She threw them away somewhere.

      “We have a blanket.”

      As Harry removed his jeans and his own socks, Y/N slipped off the dampened piece of clothing that’d been on her, now both of them completely naked. 

      “Alright.” He leaned over her again, her arms wrapping around his shoulders and pulling them chest to chest. “Happy now?”

      Y/N deeply kissed him. “Very. But I think we can make each other even happier.”

      “Agreed,” Harry hummed. “Wanna get a taste first.” He attached his lips to her collarbones sucking a bruise there. “Can I?”

      She groaned at the feeling, knowing there be a pleasant ache that accompanied mark. “You can. Don’t have to, if you don’t want. No need to do this for me.”

      “And if it’s for me?” Harry was moving lower and lower with each word, wet tongue flicking against a perked bud, and making Y/N gasp. “What if I wanna feel you cum on my tongue, and what if I wanna do something I’ve dreamed about for months now?”

      His hands were kneading her breasts, mouth having left a trail of kisses down the middle of her stomach as it was moving towards where an ache that’d been left untreated made itself more and more prominent. 

“Then please, please, please do something, Harry.”

      “With pleasure.”

      Luckily for Y/N, she didn’t have to beg any more, as his mouth attached itself to where she wanted him most, tongue sweeping past her lower lips and licking up a broad, steady stripe.

      One of her hands went to fist into her hair and the other into Harry’s. “Shit,” she moaned. “Fuck, that feels good.”

      “Guide me.” He licked a circle around her clit. “Tell me how you like it.”

      “Mhgm, fuck, okay,” Y/N breathed out. “I – I mean you’re doing great on your own.” Her chest was heaving as if she was running a marathon, and Harry shifted her legs so that they lay over his shoulders. “But umm, like if you lick around my clit, but like really press down li – oh, fuuuuck, just like that.”

      The coil in her stomach tightened with each pass he did, just like Y/N had instructed, small tight circles just how she did with her fingers, only what took her sometimes half an hour, Harry managed to do in less than ten minutes, to have her toes curling and hands grasping anywhere they could find purchase to just keep onto something real.

      The vibrations from Harry humming sent shivers straight to her core. “What else, lovie? What else, do you like?”

      “If – if –,” Y/N panted, “if you suck on it, but like – fuck – shit! If you kinda keep a seal around my clit, that fuck! Yes!”

      The way Harry was eating her out was almost sensational, but what made it even better wasn’t that he just decided to do something and assumed, she’d like it, he asked, he wanted to learn and discover what made her tick and turn, or in this case – cum. 

      “Harry, ‘m close,” Y/N warned him, feeling the warmth slowly start to spread all throughout her body. 

      “I’ll get you there.”

      He let his lips go for a moment before slipping two of his fingers so that they pinched her clit and moved them slowly but tightly up and down it, while his tongue went to slip inside her hole, and that did it for her.

      With a gasp of air, Y/N’s eyes rolled to be back of her head, hips lifting up as euphoria exploded through her veins. Her mind went completely dizzy, and she was quite sure some drool also dribbled down the side of her mouth because she’d lost all ability to function.

      “ -o me, love,” Y/N heard as if through a fog, and then felt two soothing palms running up and down her legs. “Come back, love. There you go.”

      A drunken smile bloomed on her face, and she ran a hand down it, the same hand that’d grabbed Harry’s hair like a vice. “Fuck. You’re good, you know what you’re doing.”

      “Well, I’m certainly glad you enjoyed yourself because I thoroughly enjoyed myself.”

      She watched as he straightened out to sit on his knees, her legs still over his shoulders, cock slapping against his stomach, and when she looked down there was a wet patch on his side of the sheets, a sly grin morphing on her face. “You liked eating me out so much you came yourself?”

      “What can I say – bringing pleasure, gives me pleasure. And your cunt’s probably the sweetest I’ve ever eaten. But… do you think you’re ready for me?” Harry asked, kissing the inside of Y/N’s thighs and watching as she vigorously nodded her head, but he just smirked. “I think I need to test it out. Just to make sure.”

       “Harry,” Y/N whined as she felt his fingers skim the apex of her thighs, teasing her. 

      “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

      With that, he used one of his hands to open up her lips, his thumb pressing down on her already sensitive clit, eliciting a gasp before he allowed two fingers to skim her entrance and then slipped in.

      “Still so tight,” he said, watching as Y/N sighed and her mouth fell open, his fingers curling in a come-hither motion. “Told you needed to check if you were ready. What kind of a gentleman would I be now, if I didn’t make sure you could take it?”

      Y/N gritted her teeth. “I can take you.”

      “Don’t doubt it.” Harry left kisses along her leg, as he continued on with his movements, noting how her hips slowly started to grind down on his palm, so he pushed his fingers in deeper so that the heel of his hand could rest against her clit, making the pleasure intensify. “But I’d never forgive myself if I hurt you when all I wanna do is give you pleasure. And you weren’t stretched out enough. Not yet at least.”

      “Oh, god, Harry,” Y/N groaned, one arm thrown over her eyes as his fingers hit just the right spot.

      “That’s it? Right there?”

      “Yes, right there,” she moaned. “Just. Fuck! Just don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”

      “Gonna cum again?”

      “Yes, just – just curl your fingers and twist them a bit more.”

      And much like the first time, a couple more times was all it took. Her orgasm was even more powerful than the previous and fully knocked her breath out of her lungs. Her legs fell open around his shoulders, stomach and chest spasming from the intensity. 

      Gentle fingers skimmed up and down Y/N’s arms and featherlight kisses fluttered over her breasts, then chest, neck and finally were peppered across her cheeks.

      “Kinda spaced out on me there. You alright? Not too much?”

      “ ’M – I’m good. But I’m pretty sure you’ve killed me.”

      Harry chuckled, and Y/N leaned her head to the side so she could press a kiss against the closest of the swallow tattoos. “Hopefully not. I still wanna take you out on that date.”

      Her eyes landed on Harry’s left hand’s ring finger, where a golden band still laid. 

      “Oh, yeah.” He lifted the digits, still covered in her cum before pushing them past his lips and licking them clean. “Forgot to remove it. Hope the prop guys don’t kill me.”

      She hated how his eyes sparkled, absolutely knowing what that sight did to her, how it made her stomach flutter and heart thunder against her ribs. Y/N was sure with the force it was pounding, they’d crack. 

      “Well, if they don’t, I will.” She pulled him down, nails raking on his skin, dragging to rest on his ass as they bit into it. “Now get inside me.”

      “Condom.”

      “No, ‘m on the pill.”

      “I’m clean, I swear, but it’s still not a hundred per cent safe.”

      Y/N shook her head. “I’ll buy the morning-after pill. Just need you inside.”

      “You sure?” Harry placed a strand of hair behind her ear. 

      “Yeah. I mean I’m clean, and uh… I just wanna feel you.”

      He’d cum once already, and Harry would be dammed if he did it again before having the chance to know how heaven feels like. As gently as possible, he took himself, giving a few strokes before nudging the tip against Y/N’s clit, her sharp inhale stalling him until she nodded. 

      Her nails dug into his biceps, as he finally slipped inside her, making both of them moan at the feeling. Even with all of the stretching out he’d done with his fingers, and the two orgasms he’d drawn from her, the slickness helping everything to be easy and smooth, Y/N still felt a little sting.

      Harry’s head dropped to Y/N’s shoulders and even from under him, she could feel his thighs and stomach shaking, as he tried to hold his composure and give her a little bit of time to adjust.

      A couple of deep breaths later, she tapped his ribs. “You can move now.”

      “ ‘ya sure?”

      “Mhm,” Y/N nodded her head and pecked his lips reassuringly. “Please.”

      His dishevelled and sweaty hair shook as he nodded and slowly drew back his hips so that just the tip of his cock remained in her before gliding back inside. The sight alone was more than enough to make both of them explode, but they wanted to last longer than thirty seconds, especially for their first time together. There’d be quickies for later, now they wanted to have a proper shag.

      Bit by bit, Harry’s pace quickened, pearls of sweat gliding down his skin and dampening the sheets below them, much like it was with Y/N. Her leg slid up to rest around his hips, giving him a better angle and more leverage for him to strike the right spot, as he pushed her knee to rest against her chest, Y/N’s head falling back to the pillow.

      Her insides were shaking from the pleasure, and it was like an invisible force was pushing down on her chest, as she struggled for a proper breath. “Harry,” she dragged out his name, the word turning into a high-pitched whine.

      “I know,” he responded in the same breathless voice. He could feel her tighten around him and wasn’t sure just how much longer he’d be able to keep up the pace. “Touch yourself ‘f me, lovie. C’mon, use those fingers.”

      Y/N did as she was told. It didn’t give her that butterfly feeling like it’d happened when they’d been Harry’s, but it did make her cum faster, and the sensation of her gushing around his cock made him lose all self-control and he spilled inside.

      It wasn’t enough for Y/N, but she guessed she needed to settle for it. She knew that nothing really ever touched in the universe, that the closest atoms ever come to touching one another is when their wave packets overlap, much like she and Harry were now overlapping, his body lying on top of hers, skin sweaty and frame trembling as he came down from his own high.

      “I uh,” Y/N cleared her throat, finger tracing the outline of one of the butterfly in the middle of Harry’s chest. “When the people came to get my stuff, I umm, asked them to take your rainbow cardigan. Wanted something that smelled like you, so I didn’t feel so alone. Was the first thing I put on when I got out of my hospital gown.”

      She felt his body rumble with laughter and a kiss being pressed to her forehead. “I know. Saw Anna stash it inside the suitcase. I uh, I was the one who also put in one of my sweaters. Know how cold you always get.”

      She hid her smile against his collarbones. “Thank you. For thinking of me.”

      “ 'M always thinking of you… Will you knit me one though?”

      Y/N raised her eyebrow. “Knit you one?”

      “Yes. I know you knit –“

      “Everyone knits nowadays.”

      Harry drew himself back a bit, and she pushed away the matted down strands from his forehead, wiping away the sweat from underneath his green eyes as well. “Yes, but the point is – there’ll be a million other Gucci shirts and sweaters and cardigans. But I’d like to have one-of-a-kind made by you. So, I have something to sleep next to when you’re not next to me.”

      Y/N ran a finger along his jawline, biting away her grin. “It’ll probably have mistakes. I’m not that good at it. ‘M not a professional.”

      “Exactly.” Harry tilted her head up with a finger and their eyes met. “Which is why it’ll be perfect.”

      “The arms will most likely be different lengths in the end.”

      “Don’t worry, darling.” He pecked her lips before hugging her and not letting go. “It’s flawless for me.”

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[ifonlyweknewwhatiwasdoing]

For the two-part drabble game, how about 6 - In bed at 2am, blissfully drowsy, and 28 - “If I kissed you right now, what would you do?” :)

Hi Friend!

Thank you for the ask!

It turns out drabble isn't in my vocabulary so this went sideways faster than one footed duck (who are surprisingly bad at balancing for birds) and ended up over 2.5k. So enjoy the ficlet? The oneshot? I don't know what acceptable lengths are.

Also this is super duper NSFW so you've all been warned.

They’d won. They’d actually won.

The thought sent a jolt of excitement through Anakin as he made his way to his quarters for the first time in months.

The treaty had been signed and the last of the deployed troops were being recalled. Sure, there was still a lot of mediation to do, the clones right’s bill to get passed through the senate, and probably what would amount to a lifetime of therapy to begin but this was it.

The war was over.

Anakin spent the last three hours trying to outdrink Rex, which had been a mistake because the man had drunk the equivalent of paint thinner for the last five years and Anakin was a lightweight, and the next two sobering up as much as he could when he realized that the war was over.

Tonight, was the night. Or morning. Time had definitely gotten away from Anakin.

He rushed towards the quarters that he shared with Obi-Wan faster, so excited that he’d almost tripped over himself at least four times. He arrived there, putting the code in wrong a few times until his fingers decided to cooperate and the door opened with a hiss. He hurried to Obi-Wan’s room, letting the doors open and stepping in and-.

He wasn’t there.

Anakin blinked and then started to look around as if his master could somehow be hiding in the closet or underneath his desk but the man was nowhere to be found. He sat down on Obi-Wan’s bed, drunk mind still kind of fuzzy as he tried to figure out where his wayward master could have gone at three in the morning. Today was the day. Wasn’t it? Had Obi-Wan changed his mind? With a stab of pain in his gut, he realized his master had probably decided to do some celebrating of his own. A different kind of celebrating than Anakin had been doing. After all, it’d been nearly four months since they’d been temple side and Obi-Wan was only human.

Anakin swallowed around the lump in his throat and laid back on the bed, letting the smell of beard oil and spiced tea fill his lungs as the lingering ghost of Obi-Wan’s force presence wrapped around him.

Tonight, wasn’t the night, he realized, his stomach hurting at the thought. It might already be too late. It was probably too late, and Anakin didn’t even know why he’d thought that it would happen anyway.

He sat up, wiping angry tears off of his face and standing unsteadily.

Fine then. If Obi-Wan wasn’t here, if he wanted to spend the night in someone else’s bed instead of seeing what was right in front of him, then Anakin wouldn’t do the disservice to the both of them by being in his when he returned.

He let the door open and shut behind him, blinking away the stinging in his eyes as he started over to his room, angrily letting the door open and stomping in, deciding that he’d sleep in his bed and then in the morning he’d put in the request to move quarters like he should have after his knighting ceremony. He was a Jedi Master now. He couldn’t continue to share quarters anyway, without it raising questions and he’d just tell Obi-Wan that. Yeah, that’s what he’d do, he’d crawl into his bed and-.

He stopped short, hand still reached out to pull back the covers.

Obi-Wan was curled up into a small ball in the middle of the bed and Anakin didn’t quite remember his master ever being that small. But he supposed it been a while since he’d seen anyone other than The Negotiator.

His auburn hair was fluffy like he’d just taken a shower and let it air dry, freckles dotting across his face from the sun he’d gotten during his month-long campaign in the Outer Rim. He was breathing deeply, His face was shoved into a pillow- Anakin’s pillow, his mind supplied- but he could still see his full lips, mouth slightly open in his sleep. Anakin pulled the blanket down a bit and looked to see his shoulders were bare, the skin lighter than his face from constantly being covered, but no less beautiful. The creamy white skin was still decorated with light dots and a few cuts that he must have gotten while fighting Grievous.

Anakin let his hand brush across Obi-Wan’s shoulder and Obi-Wan shuttered slightly in his sleep, body unconsciously moving towards Anakin.

All of Anakin’s anger had immediately been zapped from him, the tension falling from his body as he looked at the beautiful man in his bed.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin whispered, kicking off his shoes and crawling up onto the bed to shake him gently. Obi-Wan shuffled a bit and then stilled again.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin said a little louder, letting his hand slip down across Obi-Wan’s clavicle.

He twitched again, eyes blinking open sleepily as he tried to get his bearings.

“Anakin,” he sighed when he saw him, letting his eyes close and opening his arms, “Mm there you are. Come lay down. It’s late.”

“You’re in my bed,” Anakin told him, trying to keep the smile out of his face.

“So I am,” Obi-Wan told him, voice giving nothing away.

“Does this mean what I think it means?” Anakin asked him, shucking off his shirt as he climbed under the sheets with Obi-Wan and wrapping an arm around his waist to pull him closer.

“I guess that depends on what you think it means,” Obi-Wan replied.

“You’re not answering my question,” Anakin told him, ducking his head so their foreheads were almost touching.

“You haven’t asked me a question I can answer,” Obi-Wan explained, “I may need a bit more context than that.”

He wanted Anakin to be specific? Anakin could be specific.

“If I kissed you right now, what would you do?” Anakin asked.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and Anakin relaxed as he was the mirth behind his expression.

“I’m not sure,” he said, as if they were having a conversation about the weather, “I guess you’ll have to find out.”

Anakin closed the space between them, taking Obi-Wan into his arm and kissing him with everything that he had, sucking on his bottom lip and licking along the crease of his lips until he opened his mouth to Anakin’s assault.

Anakin shifted, pulling Obi-Wan on top of him, grasping at his hips as he started to grind up into his. Obi-Wan let out a loud moan, pressing his own hips to meet Anakin’s thrusts and Anakin felt dizzy with the heat that was between them, the desperation for something they’d been waiting for, for too long.

They broke apart, both panting heavily and Obi-Wan started to drag his fingertips across Anakin’s chest. Goosebumps started to break out against his skin and Obi-Wan grinned at him.

“The war is officially over today,” he told Anakin.

“It is,” Anakin agreed, still breathing heavily.

“That means I’m officially no longer your superior officer, council member,” Obi-Wan told him, and then he bent down so that his lips brushed against Anakin’s ear, “We’re officially equals.”

“Yeah?” Anakin asked him, brain fuzzy with pleasure and anticipation at his words.

“Yeah,” Obi-Wan replied, kissing down his neck and then his chest, hands roaming down the vee of his abs.

“Does this mean you can officially fuck me?” Anakin asked him, gasping as Obi-Wan sat up, hands trailing down this inside of his thighs.

“If that’s what you want,” Obi-Wan told him, blue-green eyes dark as his breath hitched.

“That’s what I want,” Anakin assured him, squirming under the man, “Please?”

“Well, how can I say no to that?” Obi-Wan mused, lifting his hips to start tugging at Anakin’s pants.

“Oh kark,” Anakin groaned as the cold air hit his cock. Obi-Wan started to pull of his own sleep pants and Anakin couldn’t help but watch, mouth going dry at the sight of him.

“If you keep looking at me like that, this isn’t going to last long,” Obi-Wan warned him.

“We’ve got the rest of our lives and if you don’t kriff me right now I’m going to die,” Anakin breathed out, moaning as Obi-Wan sat back down on his hips and leaned down to press another kiss to his mouth, this time an open-mouthed, rough kiss, teeth clashing together almost painfully.

“Then we’d better get moving,” Obi-Wan gave him a smirk, giving him a kiss before climbing off of him to spread his legs. Anakin eagerly let him, the weight of what was happening not settling in until Obi-Wan was between his spread legs, putting one of his feet against the bed and then sliding it back so that Anakin was exposed for him.

Anakin’s breath hitched and Obi-Wan looked up sharply, fingers brushing over his face.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked him softly, “I won’t be mad if you want to wait.”

“I’ve been waiting for years,” Anakin argued, “I’m just a little nervous is all.”

Obi-Wan gave him a soft smile, kissing him as he shifted to dig between the mattress and the frame, pulling out a bottle of lube.

“How did you know that was there?” Anakin asked, face heating in embarrassment.

Obi-Wan hummed noncommittedly as he popped the cap and squeezed some out on his fingers.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin squeaked.

“You’re not as quiet as you think you are,” Obi-Wan told him as he started to circle his entrance, “And these walls aren’t that thick.”

Anakin was mortified, even as he started to pant harder when Obi-Wan slid a finger into him up to the first knuckle.

“You could hear me?” Anakin asked and then feeling as if he would die, “All of it?”

“Do you know how hard it was to stay on the right side of the door when you’re calling my name?” Obi-Wan asked him, voice thick with lust as he started thrusting one finger in and out of Anakin, “While you’re begging for me? When you come you leave the bond wide open and it’s like I’m in your body for a second, watching you shove your fingers in and out of yourself while you cry for me.”

“I didn’t know,” Anakin told him, head thrashing as Obi-Wan slides a second finger inside of him. His blood was boiling, and he felt like he’s being cooked from the inside out when Obi-Wan curled his fingers and hit his prostate straight on.

He won’t ever admit to the sound that comes out of his throat at the sensation.

“You look even more beautiful when it’s my fingers inside of you,” Obi-Wan told him huskily, “You’re flushed from your face to your cock while you squirm on my fingers.”

Anakin let out an impossibly high keen and pushed his hips back down onto Obi-Wan’s fingers harder. He feels like one point of concentrated heat and need and he almost sobbed when Obi-Wan slid a third finger into him.

“I want you; I want you, please,” Anakin mindlessly babbled. His cock was impossibly hard and Obi-Wan’s fingers felt amazing, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to be split open on Obi-Wan’s cock like he’d been dreaming of since he was his padawan. He pushed the mental image towards him, not trusting his mouth to be able to get the words out.

“Oh force,” Obi-Wan said breathlessly, “You’re so desperate for it.”

“Please,” Anakin begged, “Please.”

Obi-Wan’s fingers slid from him, and he whined at the empty feeling but then he opened his eyes at the snick of a bottle opening, watching with rapt attention as Obi-Wan started to spread the slick on his cock and then he was adding more against Anakin’s hole.

“Please,” Anakin sobbed out.

“It’s okay darling,” Obi-Wan shushed him, “I’ve got you. I promise.”

And then the head of his cock was pressed against Anakin’s hole and Anakin was taking a deep breath as Obi-Wan breached him, his body trying to resist the intrusion.

He felt as Obi-Wan pet at his hips, throwing Anakin’s bent leg over his shoulder.

“You’re doing so good dear one,” he told him, “Just relax and let me in.”

“Please, oh,” Anakin moaned, forcing his body to relax as Obi-Wan continued to press in.

It felt like forever before he was fully seated in Anakin, the pressure of being open so wide sending an ache through his spine.

“That’s it,” Obi-Wan told him, panting as he shook with the effort of staying still, “Oh you’re so tight. You’re so tight, kriff.”

Anakin waited until the ache in his spine lessened and nodded at Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan pulled his hips back slightly, pressing into him and then repeating it over and over, each time letting his cock slide out a little more until he was thrusting eagerly, pulling out until only the tip remained in Anakin and then pressing back in, in one solid motion, fucking the breath out of him.

The pain in his spine gave way to pleasure and he could feel his orgasm building in his gut, whimpers, and moans escaping his lips as Obi-Wan began to fuck him earnestly, the headboard of the bed shaking with every thrust.

“You’re so perfect,” Obi-Wan told him as he fucked him, “You’re so beautiful like this, split open on my cock. Look how good you take it.”

“Please, please, please,” Anakin babbled, his mind unable to come up with anything else as pressure started building in his balls and he desperately wrapped a hand around his cock, only for his hand to be pushed away, replaced with Obi-Wan’s calloused, tight grip. He stroked him once and then twice and Anakin was gone, letting out a wail as he came, back arching up as he painted his own stomach his cum.

His legs shook as Obi-Wan continued fucking him through the aftershocks, pressing against his over-sensitized prostate.

“I’m almost there,” Obi-Wan promised him, “You’re so good. You’re squeezing so tightly around me. Kriff, you feel so good. I’m so close- oh!”

Anakin felt Obi-Wan pulsing inside of him as he shoved into him one last time, something warm and wet splashing inside of him and filling him up.

Obi-Wan collapsed on him, panting heavily. They laid like that until Anakin started to squirm underneath of him, thighs beginning to cramp from the way Obi-Wan had him bent in half. Obi-Wan propped himself up on his elbows, pulling out and letting Anakin’s leg slip off of his shoulder before sliding into bed next to him and pulling their bodies together.

“We should probably shower,” Anakin told him sleepily.

Obi-Wan made a noncommittal noise, tucking Anakin’s head under his chin and tangling their legs together.

“Your cum is leaking out of me,” Anakin tried again and Obi-Wan’s grip tightened on him.

“Exactly how it should be,” Obi-Wan told him, “You’re mine and now you can’t forget it.”

“I’ve always been yours,” Anakin whispered into his chest, “I’ve waited for you for ten years Obi-Wan. While everyone else was out experimenting I knew exactly what I wanted.”

Obi-Wan clutched Anakin tighter to his chest, breathing out hard.

“I love you,” he whispered into Anakin’s hair.

“I love you too,” Anakin whispered into his chest.

[icefire149]

An Angel’s Vow

Chapter Four - (Read on ao3 | Read from the beginning)

Jack quickly realized that he enjoyed the sound of Claire’s laughter, and he did everything in his power to keep her going. By the time lunch was over Cas was mentally exhausted. Nearly everything within a two foot radius of Jack’s highchair was splattered with his lunch.

“I swear to you, Jack is usually better behaved,” Cas said while he undid the baby’s bib. He lifted Jack out of the highchair and Jack slapped a sticky, dirty hand to the side of Cas’ cheek. “Wonderful, honeybee.”

Claire fell into another fit of laughter that had her leaning too far back in her chair. She slammed forward before she knocked the whole thing over. The silliness of the moment had her laughing again, and Jack excitedly babbled louder. “I think the kid likes me.”

“Oh, believe me-” Cas turned to face her. The baby hand print was perfect on the side of his face. “He does.”

Cas crossed over to the kitchen doorway and paused there. “He desperately needs a bath. You can feel free to entertain yourself in any of the rooms in the meantime. Upstairs is Jack’s nursery and the bedroom you’re free to use.”

Claire bounced up from the table. “I get my own room?” Her expression hardened moments later. She crossed her arms. “How long are you planning on keeping me here?”

“You’re free to go whenever you wish, but I’d like to go over a few things before you go.” Cas’ head tilted to the side and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “But, yes, you get your own room. Technically, I suppose it’s my room, but since I don’t need to sleep I don’t have much use for it. I freshly laundered the bedding expecting that you’d like to rest at some point.”

“Fair point,” Claire said grabbing one of her duffle bags and slinging it on her shoulder. “I’ll see you when you’re done. Have fun with junior there.”

Cas nodded and disappeared into the house. Claire took her time walking through the downstairs. The house was small, and Cas kept the rooms relatively simple. A small smile found its way onto her face when she stopped to look at the view out the window. The rays of afternoon sun peeking through the clouds were blinding, reflecting off of the calm water.

She had a feeling this house had potential to be a home. Replaying the sound of Jack’s laughter in her mind, Claire was happy that Cas found this place.

Claire made her way upstairs, and heard loud splashing noises. She had to bite the side of her hand to hold back the laughter that threatened to escape when she heard the deadpan tone of Cas’ voice. A few more, but quieter splashes later she started moving past the door. For a moment she thought caught the sound of her own name and that made her pause, but immediately she brushed it off. It shouldn’t come to a surprise that Cas was telling Jack about her.

She went to the end of the hall and opened the door. It was the master bedroom. Claire tossed her bag down by the end of the bed and started poking around the room. The bed looked like a child put it together. The blanket was clearly going the wrong way and the ends were close to touching the floor.

Chuckling, Claire pulled the comforter off and saw that the sheets were only somewhat tucked in. One of the corners still needed to be done. She figured it was a miracle Cas even knew the rough order of fitted sheet, top sheet, and blanket.

Next Claire went around the room nosing in every drawer. The only thing she found in the room was a box pushed to the back of the closet. Inside were carefully folded women’s clothes. “These must have been Kelly’s,” Claire whispered as she quickly closed the box back up and pushed it back inside.

After that she went into the nursery. There was no mistaking the care that went into the room. Her eye immediately went to the painted apple tree with the rainbow above it.

“Oh, there you are,” Cas said walking around and past Claire. His clothes were strangely dry, but there were droplets of water dotting his hair. He brought Jack over to the changing table and sat him there. “Can you-” He turned to look at Claire. “Make sure he doesn’t fall?”

“Uh, yeah.” Claire went over and stood in front of Jack while Cas went digging for clean clothes. Jack was wrapped up in a bright, lime green towel with a hood that made him resemble a frog. Jack stared up at her with big, round eyes.

A shiver shot down her spine. “You ever...feel like he’s seeing right through you...or like...something?”

Cas didn’t even lift his head. He kept moving things around in one of the drawers. “He’s probably just staring at your soul.”

“He can do that?”

“He’s half angel so I’m assuming he can.”

“Sooo that’s just an angel thing then?”

“Being able to look at a person and see parts of their soul….yes, that’s more of an angel thing.” Cas closed the drawer and came back over with a light purple and blue polka-dot onesie. Claire took a step back while Cas was busy with Jack.

“What does mine look like?”

“Silver…...a lot like starlight, actually.” He looked over his shoulder at Claire for a moment. Her soul was shining even brighter now. “Souls in general when separated from their body, are the brightest blue-white light you can imagine. They’re unimaginable sources of power.”

“Why’s mine silver then?”

“When a soul is with their body...it’s like they’re co-existing in harmony. They’re complimentary….and they take on more personality if you pay attention. Yours makes me think of the night sky. The stars can seem so far away and cold, but other times warm and brilliantly bright.”

“Oh.” Her voice was quiet, and Claire awkwardly averted her gaze when Cas turned around with Jack. “What….what about the kid’s?”

Cas’ expression softened studying Jack. “Yellow. Warm and soft like a…..I think it’s called a hellebores.”

“Like a what?”

His gaze moved back to Claire. He gave her a scrutinizing look. “It’s a kind of flower.”

Crossing her arms, Claire smirked. “Okay, so let’s go three for three. What about yours?”

“Oh.” Cas adjusted Jack who was squirming in his arms. “Angels don’t have souls.”

“You don’t?” Claire’s arms fell to her sides.

“No. Just grace.” Cas stepped closer. He held Jack out to her. “Would you like to hold him? I doubt he’ll nap in his crib knowing that you’re here.”

Claire’s eyes darted from Jack to Cas. “Uh….I...I don’t..”

“I can assure you that he doesn’t bite. Yet.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to be funny?”

“Yes.” Cas held Jack close again and went past Claire. She followed close behind as they made their way downstairs. “Another time then,” Cas said placing Jack in his play pen.

He turned towards Claire. “Let’s take a look at that arsenal of yours.”

“I already told you that’s too strong of a word. I make due with what I have.”

They started walking towards the kitchen. “That’s not a very safe way to hunt, Claire.”

“It hasn’t failed me yet.”

“We don’t want there to be a yet. That’s how you end up dead.” They both stopped in the kitchen doorway. Cas sighed. “Right, Jack put on a show during lunch.”

[adhd-disaster-willie]

you’re the one that brings the sun; chapter 5/6

chapter 1, 2, 3, 4

warnings: swearing

word count: 2,757

notes: okay so this update took a while because I’ve been busy with school and writers block has been kicking my ass, but I think it’s worth it :)))

---

It was established in August that at least once a month, Alex will receive a phone call informing him to be at Julie’s house in ten minutes for a mandatory slumber party. It’s endearing sure, but he would like some sort of warning other than Luke calling him and saying that if he doesn’t show up as soon as possible, he’ll paint his drumsticks neon green. So that’s how Alex ends up sitting cross legged on Julie’s bed, putting Reggie’s hair into a bunch of tiny braids and watching The Princess Diaries for what’s probably the hundredth time. 

“Lilly is definitely a lesbian,” Flynn says through a mouthful of popcorn. 

Alex hums in agreement and Julie nods. “If only this movie weren’t made in 2001,” Julie says mournfully.

“Y’know I always thought that Joe was gay,” Alex admits. “Up until he dances with the queen.”

Reggie attempts to look up at Alex, earning an offended squeak from the latter. “Really?”

“Yes, now will you please stay still, I only have one more left.”

“Ok but there is no way Mia’s mom is straight!” Flynn says.

Julie seems to mull it over for a bit. “She does live in an old fire station. And artists are never straight.”

“Yea, like Willie!” Luke pipes up, sitting up from his position hanging halfway off the bed. “Willie’s not straight.”

“We should start a betting pool on how long it takes for Luke to bring up Willie,” Alex mumbles, his cheeks flushing pink. He ties off Reggie’s final braid and pats his head approvingly. “You look like a real princess.”

“Do I?” Reggie grins up at him with a bit of a twinkle in his eye and Alex chuckles. 

“No subject changing,” Luke protests. “How’s Willie doing?”

“Still a pining idiot,” Flynn answers with a cheeky smile. 

“I’m trying to watch the movie.” Alex shoves at Luke’s face and slides down off the bed to sit on the floor beside Reggie. 

“You’ve seen this movie a million times,” Luke points out. He leans down so his head is hanging off the edge of the bed and smirks mischievously at Alex, who is pointedly refusing to look at him. “Aleeeex,” Luke whines. “Don’t be a buzzkill.”

“Alice, please,” Flynn says. Alex shoots her a look seeping with betrayal and Flynn raises their hands defensively. “I haven’t seen Carrie in a few days!” They protest. “I need drama.”

“Drama?” Alex asks. “Or blackmail material?”

Flynn shrugs, which only serves to cement what Alex was thinking. “Yea, nope. It’s not like anything has even happened since-” He cuts himself off, realizing his mistake and preparing for the onslaught of questions. 

“Since!?” Luke cries. “Since what?!” He grabs Alex’s face roughly and looks at him with wide eyes. “Since what, Alex?”

“Nothing!” Alex squeaks, wrenching himself from Luke’s grasp. “Nothing! It was- let go of my fanny pack! Julie stop filming!!!” Alex swats at Luke’s hands and attempts to leap forward to grab Julie’s phone, but ultimately fails. 

“I’ll let go if you tell me,” Luke teases in a sing song voice, his grin only growing the more Alex fights. 

“Fine! If you just- sorry Reg the puppy-dog eyes only work on Luke and Bobby.” Reggie sighs in disappointment and Alex finally manages to get Luke off of him, huffing angrily and brushing nonexistent dust from his hoodie. “You’re a barbarian,” he mutters.

“Well?” 

Alex responds to Julie’s prompting with a long-suffering sigh. “You have to promise not to make fun of me,” he says. They don’t promise. The movie is long forgotten as Alex’s friends gather around him, looking all too fascinated by his latest embarrassment. “He well… don’t laugh, ok. He wore a crop top last week and I tripped on my own feet and scraped up my knees.”

Flynn raises an eyebrow. “Nuh uh, there’s more, spill.”

Alex groans, burying his face in his hands. “They got all worried and started putting bandaids on my knees and I almost fainted. Then- please don’t make me say this,” Alex pleads, looking to Julie as if she’s his last hope. She shakes her head. “When they finished lecturing me I just looked at him and said ‘nice shirt’ and ran off. Nice shirt??? What is wrong with me?”

“Wait a minute,” Julie says, gesturing for Alex to pause. “You just… ran off? Where?”

Alex doesn’t say anything. 

“I’ll paint your drumsticks if you don’t tell us,” Luke threatens. The difficulty is that Alex doesn’t doubt him one bit, and knows that Julie has a healthy supply of paint in a drawer just a few feet away from Luke. 

Alex mumbles something under his breath and Reggie pokes him. 

“Sorry what was that? Speak up.”

“Orange, I’ll paint them the ugliest shade of orange ever.”

“I went and hid in my closet!” Alex blurts. “For like an hour. I am never going to live that down.”

“That’s… incredibly ironic,” Julie laughs. 

“I’m telling that story at your wedding.”

“Reginald, don’t even think about it!” Alex kicks Reggie lightly and raises his hand to flip off the other three, who are all dying of laughter. “I hate all of you. I need new friends.”

“Good luck with that.” Flynn pats Alex’s head; he can practically hear their stupid smirk. 

“Fuck off.”

“No.”

---

Alex wakes up with his foot in Luke’s face, one arm thrown over Julie, his face in Reggie’s neck, and a very giggly Flynn perched on the end of the bed taking pictures. He sits up and murmurs sleepily, squinting in the oddly hazy room.

It’s gray and gloomy outside, quite fitting for mid-November, but far from Alex’s ideal weather. He’s always been partial to spring, when it’s not too hot and not too cold and not always cloudy and sad. 

Flynn hops off the bed and onto Julie’s chair, where she spins a couple times before turning her phone to show Alex. “This is gonna be my new lockscreen,” they giggle. Alex stares at the photo, baffled as to how his arm was bent like that. 

Breakfast is heaps of pancakes and fresh coffee (bless you, Ray) that for a moment, Alex considers just dumping over his head. Julie is curled around Luke for warmth throughout the whole morning and Flynn makes a point to gag at least once every 5 minutes. Alex knows she’s happy for them though, they finally got their act together a little over a week ago and at least this is better than the pining. Alex doesn’t say that though, because it will only get him a lecture on how he is not one to talk about pining. 

Alex almost thanks a god he doesn’t believe in anymore when the rain outside doesn’t seem to make any moves into thunderstorm territory. Willie hates thunderstorms. He stays cocooned in a blanket until noon, but eventually Tía Victoria shoos them all out, claiming that Julie will never finish her homework with them all glued to her. 

Alex is sopping wet when he finally arrives at his dorm, sadly no car can go right up to the entrance of the dorms. The first thing Alex notices when he walks in is the candles, and the second thing is the haphazardly thrown together fort in the middle of the room, which he narrowly avoids tripping over. “Willie?” He asks, lifting what he assumes to be the entrance and raising an eyebrow at Willie, who is grinning at him and shining a flashlight in his face.

“Ok, get that out of my eyes.” Alex clamps a hand over the light and Willie sticks his tongue out. “Did the power go out?” Alex asks, worry etching over his face. He can’t have all their food being ruined, with Alex living off his coffee shop job and Willie off of the occasional commission and odd check from his eccentric uncle. 

Willie shakes their head. “Nope.”

“So why the… candles?”

“It’s fun!” Willie pulls Alex into the fort, stumbling back and just barely evading them toppling over each other into a quite compromising position. Willie presses his back against the couch and pats the space next to him. “It’s like you’re a little kid again.”

“Luke used to love making forts,” Alex admits. “We would move all the furniture in his living room and make the absolute worst blanket forts you can imagine. Like seriously, it’s no wonder none of us went into architecture.”

“Really? I can totally see you as an architect”

“That’s…”

“I’m joking, hotdog,” Willie giggles, bumping their shoulder together. He has a tendency to raise his eyebrows when he’s amused; Alex finds it all too endearing. Accompanied with the way their eyes crinkle when the laugh and the soft candlelight leaking through the thin blankets and draping over his features, Alex thinks he’s having trouble breathing. 

“I was drawing you, y’know,” Willie says softly after a few minutes of silence.

“Hmm?”

“The day we went stargazing, I was drawing you. You’re- you’re a good muse.”

“Oh.” Alex’s stomach flutters. “I uh… thank you.” He gives Willie a hesitant smile before turning to focus on the flickering light. His breath feels weighted, like every exhale means something, but he can’t quite pinpoint what. There’s a light breeze whistling through the crack in the door and Alex closes his eyes for a moment, pretending that it’s wrapping around him and holding him close. Alex didn’t get much affection as a child; his parents had always been very stiff. Sure, they loved him, but they weren’t that good at showing it aside from a rough shoulder squeeze and tight smiles so full of expectations. When he came out, even the snippets of affection faded; no more of his mother fixing his hair or giving him a quick kiss on the forehead when he was sick. Two months after his coming out, they just… kicked him out. He came home to find his belongings shoved carelessly into a trash bag or two and that was that. Luke more than made up for the lack of physical affection, but Alex knows that there will always be something missing. 

Wide awake, Alex lets his head fall onto Willie’s shoulder. This time with care and attention, hesitancy. He hears Willie suck in a sharp breath but then the tension melts from their shoulders and fizzles into nothingness. For a moment, there is nothing but them and the pattering of rain against the windows. 

“Lets go for a drive.”

Alex looks up expecting Willie’s usual carefree and impish grin, but he’s taken aback by his wistful expression and something bursts in Alex’s chest. Something that may be instinct and may be just an overwhelming surge of emotion.

“Okay.” His voice is barely a whisper, a single wisp of smoke snaking from a blown out candle.

The air is damp and the rain is coming down hard; Alex reaches a cautious hand out beyond the awning and winces at the downpour. But Willie is wiggling his stupid eyebrows in the way that makes Alex’s face heat and he can’t say no as Willie drags him through the wet grass, shrieking with laughter and going slower than necessary to relish in the water pouring down from the sky in torrents. They’re soaked to the bone and breathless, overflowing with mirth, by the time they reach Alex’s car and clamber into the seats. Right after a brief argument about who’s driving of course. (“You will not be touching my steering wheel with your grimy paint hands, William.” “Says you.”) So Alex is driving. 

Willie has their hands pressed to the window, breath fogging up the glass and sending them into a fit of giggles every time. Alex switches on the radio and there’s a song playing that he recognizes but couldn’t sing along to; something soft and low, like lilting waves. Willie knows it though. And they’re singing. Oh. They’re singing. Alex almost has to pull the car to a stop and put his head in his hands because Willie never told him he could sing.

Willie’s voice is low and slightly raspy, but not in a bad way. Alex knows he’s heard this song before, but he’s 100% certain that this is his first time really hearing it. And it’s beautiful. Or maybe it’s just Willie. It’s probably just Willie. 

Alex brings the car to a slow stop in the parking lot of an odd gas station that always seems to be closed. He doesn’t turn it off though, because he would rather die than have Willie stop singing. He leans his head back and breathes, certain he’s inhaling Willie’s voice. Willie’s voice which is like sparks on his skin, like smoke that crowds his lungs and opens his soul for the very first time. He feels a sense of mourning when the song stops and something else comes on, something peppier and sickeningly sweet. He switches the radio off. 

“I didn’t know you could sing.” Alex isn’t even looking at them; he’s fiddling nervously with the strap of his fanny pack.

Willie smirks proudly. “You learn something new every day.”

“Yea.”

Willie traces a heart in the fog on the window and lets it sit there. Then he unbuckles his seat belt and pokes Alex’s shoulder. “Hey ‘Lex, come on.”

“No.” Alex shakes his head vigorously. “No. We’re already soaking wet and-”

“Hot dog.”

And damn it, the nickname may be so incredibly stupid but Alex has such a weird soft spot for it. He groans dramatically, making a point to wring out his hair, which is already mostly dry at this point. “You’re the worst. What if it starts thundering?” 

Willie shrugs. “I have my noise cancelling headphones. And you can-” they cut themself off. 

“I can what?”

“Nothing,” Willie squeaks. “Please. Please.”

So Alex climbs reluctantly from the car and stands in the parking lot looking far from amused. “You owe me.”

Willie laughs loudly, grabbing both of Alex’s hands and spinning him in an aimless circle, pulling them both into a dance  to music that’s only in his head. They twirl Alex around several times, and Alex is certain that he’s going to actually fall over and faint. Willie raises his face to the sky and squints, letting the rain soak him without care. Alex is in awe and how open and free Willie is, like nothing can ever go wrong and if it does they’ll always be flying. He doesn’t realized they’ve stopped dancing until Willie turns to him with a curious expression. Their eyes rake over his face and Alex realizes he’s staring. But for once, he doesn’t look away. And for the first time, he sees the corner of Willie’s mouth quirk up and their eyes flick to his lips and even linger there for a brief second. 

The rain doesn’t seem to have plans to stop anytime soon, and they’re both shivering and wet and Willie’s hair is dangling in front of his face. Alex reaches out and tucks it behind his ear, both of them holding a breath, waiting. It’s right there, right in front of him, and Alex is inches from just grasping it and clutching it to his chest. Willie takes a step forward so their faces are just inches from each other and Alex can feel their breath against his cheeks. He exhales shakily and raises one hand to cup Willie’s cheek, his touch feather light and afraid. Willie leans into the contact and grins upwards, their nose wrinkling fondly. He gives a silent nod and for the first time in years, Alex takes the plunge. 

Their first kiss is soft and slow and Willie tastes like rain and green tea. Alex smiles against their lips, a breathy laugh escaping his own. He’d think this is a dream, but no section of his imagination could conjure something even a fragment as magical as this. They’re in the middle of a parking lot, cold and wet, and yet Alex feels the warmest he ever has. Alex is hesitant to pull away, but he does, just barely. Their foreheads stay resting against each other, like breaking apart would break them. Then it comes crashing into him. Alex just kissed Willie. He just kissed Willie. And Willie kissed him back! Holy shit!

“Wowza.” Wowza? What the fuck Alex? 

Willie breaks into joyous laughter, throwing his head back and clutching Alex’s shoulders. And Alex laughs with him; he buries his face in the crook of Willie’s neck, his heart full to bursting. Wowza indeed.

---

notes: ...I did say I was thinking about a Willex rain kiss. I actually wrote like half of chapter 6 a while ago so I might be able to post it tomorrow. 

chapter 6

taglist:  @thatsanewflavor @spookiest-sapphic @dovesgrangers @julie-n-phantoms @frostknyte @thegaylink @nervousmiracletrash @crummycassidy @fairygclds @reallyintrospectivepeople @madsmax-37 @swamp-acad @kat-maybe-not @sunsetcurve123 @lookingthroughmirrors @queer-fandom-enby @over-under-through1 @willex-n-waffles @caliibee @stars-soph @herequeerandcantdrinkbeer @nickalicious @andwhenwepart @maizsnex @fanofthepod @heademptynothoughts @thunderstorm-symphony @julieandthephantomsandme @i-spit-on-fire

[malewifegradyruewen]

An Untitled Original Work, Part 8

y'all are either gonna love me or hate me-

previous | next | masterpost

trigger warnings: none that i can think of, ask to tag

word count: 2755

tagging: @fire-sapphics @artemiassamos @honorablescythecurie @love-pyramus @silver-war @pencilwritesshiz47 @tiergan-andrin-alenefar @mermistahawk @dirty-racoon @tommyinnitt @enbies-and-felonies @sofia-not-sophie @imaramennoodle @littlemisscupcake @cadence-talle and lmk know if you wanna be added/removed!!

Gina was pissed, to say the least. Stupid, oblivious Leo, and stupid, oblivious her. What a pair.

Leo had always been oblivious, so she really couldn’t blame him, but it was her own mistakes that really set her off. Sure, they were her mistakes, but that didn’t make them sting less.

Put it out of your mind. That’s over now, and now we can… try again.

After they’d left, she and Sammie had decided that they should go to Gina’s, just to hang out. The only reason Gina had agreed was because she knew her dad had taken her youngest siblings to their grandma’s, and the oldest two of her younger siblings wouldn’t bother her. They might have even gone over to a friend’s house, leaving the Weathers residence vacant.

“So, what did you think? Salt & Pepper, it was good, right?” she asked, hoping to break the tension that had formed.

“Yeah, it was pretty good! Leo was right, the mocha was pretty good.”

She knew Sammie didn’t mean any harm, but hearing Leo’s name brought a bitter taste to Gina’s mouth. She did her best to swallow it before asking, “Have you ever dyed your hair?”

So she was taking the easy way out of discussing what had happened at the café. There was nothing wrong with that, especially because Gina wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, but they didn’t need to talk about it. Right now, she needed a distraction, something guaranteed.

“Uh, no, I haven’t,” Sammie admitted. “I never had the chance, I guess.”

“How would you feel about maybe, I dunno, doing that at my house?” Gina asked. “I’ve got a couple colours. I accidentally bought some for light hair, too, so that’s been sitting in my closet for a while now.”

Sammie hesitated. Gina could tell she wanted to, but still. It wasn’t something most people did on the fly. Changing your colour was one thing, but doing it for the first time was usually a bigger decision.

“You don’t have to,” Gina added. “Or we can do just like, a little bit. Streaks or ends or-” She gasped. “Under layer would look so good!”

With that, Sammie seemed won over. “Why not? What colours do you have?”

“For light hair, I think pink and blue. And then I have some that’s for darker hair, purple and green and red. And brown. I dunno. Probably pink or blue for you.”

“Pink, for sure.”

“Good, because we’re here,” Gina said as they pulled into her driveway. She quickly parked outside and hopped out of the car. “Do you want a soda or something? We’ve got some in the garage.”

She led Sammie into the garage and to an old, white fridge. Sammie pulled it open and Gina grabbed a Sprite. “Go on, you can take something.”

Sammie grabbed a Sprite of her own before closing the fridge. Gina then pulled open the door to the back hall, a tiny doorway that led into the kitchen. “Shoes on or off?” Sammie asked.

“Either one,” Gina said. “I keep mine in my room.” She then bolted upstairs. “My room’s up here.”

As Gina walked down the narrow hallway, she suddenly felt very… inadequate. Everything seemed too small, too dirty, too embarrassing. It never felt like this when Mally or Andre were over, because they’d been coming over since they were little. But somehow, Sammie seeing it for the first time as a high schooler, the most judgemental group of people on the planet, terrified Gina. What if this was it? Maybe Sammie would stop hanging out with her. Plus, there was the added terror of having your crush see your bedroom. That usually didn’t happen so early, did it?

Gina ran out of time to go over worst-case scenarios as she opened her bedroom door. Luckily, she’d cleaned up a bit before going to pick Sammie up, so it wasn’t too bad. Her bed was made, there were no dirty underwear on the floor, and the dresser was organised.

“Aww, your room is so cute!” Sammie said as Gina stepped out of the way to let her in. “The nail polish is so fun!” She pointed to the row that Gina had lined up in colour order. There were only maybe a dozen bottles, but they took up a decent amount of room on her dresser.

“Thanks,” Gina said as she internally sighed a sigh of relief. “Maybe we can paint our nails later, if we have time.”

“That would be fun,” Sammie agreed.

Gina could tell that there was something Sammie wasn’t saying, but she decided not to push. “Okay, here’s the hair dye,” she said as she opened her closet and grabbed a small plastic basket off the floor. “Here’s the pink.”

She tossed the box to Sammie, who caught it with ease. “Should we do this in the bathroom, and do you have some old towels?”

“Yeah, they’re right here.” She reached into her closet again and grabbed two stained towels. “I know they look gross but they’re clean, I promise. I just washed them.”

“That’s okay,” Sammie said as she took one of the towels from Gina. “Here, you put the basket away. Where’s your bathroom?”

“Right next door, first door on the right,” Gina said, sliding the basket back and closing her small closet. She followed Sammie into the bathroom.

“Okay, what’s first?” asked Sammie as she opened the box.

“You should wash your hair. I can do that in the sink, and then I have some clips in the sink so we only dye the bottom layer.”

“Alright, I’m doing this!” Sammie said as she placed one of the towels around her neck like a cape.

“We’re doing this! Here, I’m gonna go grab a chair so you can sit by the sink,” Gina said. She ran back downstairs to the garage, grabbed an old folding chair, and brought it back up. When she got back to the bathroom, she found that Sammie had found a handful of hair clips in a drawer and had pulled the gloves out of the box.

“Here.” She set the chair down facing the wall. “Sit.”

Sammie sat as Gina grabbed her shampoo and conditioner from the shower. She put them on the counter next to the sink and turned the water on. “Sit back so your hair’s actually in the sink.”

Gina could see Sammie hesitate. “Hey, it’s not too late to chicken out. I still haven’t been able to do Mally’s. You’re fine if you don’t wanna do it.”

“No, I wanna,” Sammie said. “I’m just nervous.”

“Don’t be! This stuff is only semi-permanent anyways, so it won’t last for more than six weeks, if you wash it the same amount as usual.”

Gina could see Sammie take a deep breath before sitting back. “Let’s go!”

She placed Sammie’s hair in the sink and started washing it. “So, how do you like it here?”

“I like it. It’s different from where I lived before, but I like the people here. I think I found a good group, y’know?”

“Yeah, I get that,” Gina said as she started adding shampoo. “Good crew. I’ve known Mally and Andre since elementary school. I think we’re all pretty likeable.”

“Yeah, and the other people in my classes are nice, too,” Sammie said. “Not that I’d hang out with most of them, but they’re nice.”

“Mhm,” Gina said absentmindedly as she rinsed the shampoo and started combing conditioner through Sammie’s hair.

“I can’t wait to just get to know more people, you know? Like I’ve been talking with some of my other classmates and I forgot how fun it is to talk to different people and get their perspectives on things.”

“Yeah,” Gina agreed. “Sit up, your hair is clean. I gotta dry it a bit.”

Sammie leaned forward in the chair as Gina pulled the towel that was sitting on her shoulders up to rub her hair dry. “I’m overall liking it here. I was nervous, but everyone has been really nice and no one’s really bullied me or anything.”

“Yeah, most of the people at our school are nice. It’s actually not too bad. I’ve heard South is way more toxic than our school.” Gina grabbed the clips and then pulled a comb out of one of the drawers. “Hold these,” she said, handing the clips to Sammie. She then ran the comb around Sammie’s head, grabbing the top section with one hand and a clip with the other. “Turn around, does that look good?”

“Yeah, that’s not too much,” Sammie said as she looked in the mirror.

“Okay, I’m gonna straighten out the part there then. Uh, you can continue what you were saying,” Gina said as Sammie turned back to face the wall.

“It’s just a decent environment, better than my old school. Even the worst people here are generally better than at my old school.”

“Yeah,” Gina said. “Okay, hair dye next. You ready?”

“Do it.”

“Okay,” Gina said as she slid on the gloves and opened the package of dye. She mixed it up and started scooping small handfuls onto Sammie’s hair. “Yeah, I’d say the worst person at our school is probably Logan, and she’s pretty bad, so the people at your school must have been terrible.”

“She’s not that bad,” Sammie said. “She’s in my English, and she seems pretty nice.”

“Trust me, she’s not.” Gina combed her fingers through Sammie’s hair. “She’s rude and a bully.”

“Huh, I haven’t seen that,” Sammie admitted. “She seems pretty… normal, I guess.”

“Don’t hang out with her, trust me. Mally and Andre can vouch for me. Just don’t.”

“Okay, I guess I can do that.”

They sat in silence, Gina combing her fingers through Sammie’s hair to make sure it was fully covered. “Your hair looks good, now we wait,” she said, pulling the gloves off and throwing them in the garbage next to the toilet. “Uh, do you wanna do nails while we wait?”

“Sure,” Sammie said. “I can do yours, if you go grab colours.”

Gina nodded before heading back to her room. That was… strange, right? How Sammie had talked about Logan? What was up with the two of them, anyways? Gina wasn’t sure, but hopefully it was just a misunderstanding on Sammie’s part. Logan was bad news, and the two of them hanging out was worse news.

She grabbed a couple colours; sparkly black and her favourite purple. She brought them back to the bathroom and sat down on the floor in front of Sammie. She’d been doing something on her phone while Gina was in her room, and Gina sat for a moment before she put her phone away. “Sorry, I had to respond to a couple messages.”

“That’s okay. Here, here’s my colours.” She put one hand up and Sammie opened the bottle of purple. She started applying the colour with an ease Gina had never been able to master.

“We should listen to music,” Gina said as she pulled her phone out of her pocket with her free hand. She opened her Spotify and scrolled through her playlists until she found one that wouldn’t totally embarrass her.

“Oh, this is a bop,” she said as the first song came on.

“Oh, yeah!” Sammie said, grinning. She started singing along. “You would not believe your eyes…”

Gina joined in. “If ten million fireflies…”

“Lit up the world as I fell asleep,” they sang in unison. They sang the whole song, relishing each other’s company. By the time the song was over, the first coat on Gina’s nails was finished, and Sammie was on the second coat.

“That was good,” Sammie said, almost breathless.

“Yeah,” Gina laughed. “Ooh, this next one is good. I’ve been cheated by you since I don’t know when…”

“So I made up my mind, it must come to an end,” Sammie joined in. She finished the final coat of polish on Gina’s nails before the song ended.

“Alright, your nails are done, just let them dry and we can rinse my hair.”

“The bottom drawer on your left, there’s a hair dryer. We can dry my nails faster,” Gina said. She paused the music as Sammie plugged it in. She put her hands out in front of her as Sammie turned it on and aimed it at Gina’s nails.

They sat in relative silence, the only noise being the hair dryer. Not quite silence, but one sound enveloping the small room. After about five minutes, Sammie turned it off and said, “Try that.”

Gina tentatively touched her pinky nail. “Dry,” she said, standing up. “Now for your hair.”

She turned the sink back on as Sammie leaned back once more. Gina combed her fingers through Sammie’s hair, turning the water in the sink bright pink. After a few minutes of rinsing, she said, “I think you’re good. Let’s blow it dry.”

Sammie handed her the dryer from where it had been sitting in her lap. Gina switched it on and started blow drying her friend’s hair. She pulled the clip out and ran her fingers through until she determined it was dry. Gina turned off the hair dryer and unplugged it. “Ready for the final reveal?”

Sammie nodded with a nervous smile. She stood up and turned around. “Oh my gosh I love it!” she cried. “It’s so beautiful! Thank you!”

Gina smiled. “It turned out nicely,” she said. “Not gonna lie, I was a bit nervous too.”

“You were?” Sammie asked. “You did it so well! I can’t stop looking at it!”

“Ah, it was nothing. But my nails! You made it look so easy! I always get it all over my fingers and then have to wipe it off.”

“I did my nails a lot in middle school.”

“Makes sense.” They stood in awkward silence for a moment before Gina added, “We should clean this up, and it’s getting late. I can drive you home.”

“Yeah, you’re right. A ride would be great.” Sammie grabbed the towel and the chair and asked, “Where do these go?”

“Uh, the towel can go on the hook behind the door there,” Gina pointed. “And the chair goes in the garage. Do you mind taking it down there while I finish cleaning up the garbage?”

Sammie nodded and took the chair downstairs. Gina grabbed the rest of the garbage, threw it away, and brought the nail polish and the rest of the hair dye back to her room. She set them on her dresser and ran downstairs.

“C’mon, let’s go,” she said to Sammie as she entered the garage. She hopped in the driver’s seat as Sammie climbed in next to her.

“This was fun,” Sammie said Gina started backing out.

“Yeah, it was.” Gina realised this was the perfect time to admit something that had been pulling at her stomach all week. “Uh, Sammie, uh, I dunno how to say this. It’s only been, what, a week since you came, but I really-” She stopped herself and swallowed.

“I like you.”

The words hung there, suspended between them for what felt like an eternity. Gina couldn’t take her eyes off the road, wouldn't let herself. She was scared, but she couldn't take the words back.

Sammie gulped loudly enough for Gina to hear before saying, “I think I might like you.”

They didn’t live far apart, and that short ride had already brought them into Sammie’s driveway. Gina parked and neither girl said anything. She turned to face Sammie and saw Sammie staring at her.

Gina could see Sammie unbuckle her seatbelt, but nothing could have prepared her for Sammie to lean over and kiss her. It was so sudden, she hadn’t even registered what was happening until it was over. Sammie had opened the door and was climbing out of the car.

“Bye!” she called as she slammed the door shut and ran into the house, and just like that, she was gone.

Gina sat there, absolutely shocked. Of all the things she had expected to happen that day, that was not one of them. But Sammie had disappeared inside. There was nothing for Gina to do except drive home and hold the secret tight. That experience, that moment, was going to stay in this car, and Gina couldn't do anything about it, so she didn’t try to fight it. Instead, she drove home and tried not to think about it. After all, what else could she do?

[silverwhiteraven]

Wings of Broken White - Ch.8

Tag List: @marichatmay

[ Posted on Ao3 ] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 7 ] [ Chapter 9 ]

Marinette and Chat Blanc continued to see each other sporadically after their midnight meeting full of emotional rollercoastering and winged secrets. He had told Ladybug about it a few days after, leaving out the part about Marinette’s revealing of having wings. It made her heart skip to know that he would keep a secret that wasn’t his to tell even if he didn’t have to. Ladybug thanked him for being honest with her and told him to be careful, but she was happy he got the chance to spread his wings around another friend.

Ladybug also offered to increase their patrols together if he ever wanted to practice flying with her. She even teasingly said something along the lines of them both needing the benefit of practicing with each other, just in case they ever had to have each other’s backs during a fight in the skies. He accepted, looking giddy to get even more opportunities to fly with another. She also found it unfairly adorable when he joked that he wouldn't get jealous if she wanted to fly around with one of her own civilian friends.

The two even thought about the possibility of some day both flying with their civilian friends together. Ladybug had to hide her giggle at the thought that she might have to break the news that Ladybug and Marinette could never fly together, if this proposed group flight practice were to ever take place.

But Ladybug did confess to Chat Blanc, that if she were to ever choose a civilian to fly with, it would be either Nino Lahiffe or Alya Césaire, because if there was anyone besides Marinette Dupain-Cheng that was trustable, it had to be the people Marinette herself trusted most. Chat hardly held back on his approval of the choices, and it made her laugh to see his bright antics.

After that, several more months passed by the duo, and the world. School was nearing the end of another year. Akuma’s were just as rare and random as ever. Best of all, Chloé had continued to be reprimanded by an ever vigilant Adrien. She was starting to almost mellow out as the fact slowly sunk in that someone she cared about and who cared about her, too, was actually willing to go against her, and even leave her, because she was in the wrong.

All of this led up to an end of school project for their class.

The students were to work together in equal shares to put on a play, telling either one of the fairy tale stories they had studied in class, or one they made up on their own. Nino had proposed that they make a short movie out of the project so that the fruit of their joint efforts could be shared outside of class. The teacher thought the idea was brilliant, and gave them extra time and afterschool privileges to help them set up.

Marinette had been a little tired the day the class was assigning the roles. Her mind only half paid attention, causing her replies to be badly timed and delayed. Because of it, an interesting selection of character parts were assigned.

“Now, I know we’ve been delaying assigning the lead roles,” Nini spoke from where he stood at the front of the room, acting as one of the movie’s directors, “ but I wanted to make sure everyone knew what the other options were before a bunch of people tried to jump at being the Knight of the Princess. So let’s start. Any volunteers or votes for the Knight’s Princess?”

There was various various calls of names and a few ‘me!’s, and most of it all went over Marinette’s head. The only part that really registered was ‘votes for the Knight’, so Marinette half-heartedly pipped in, “Adrien could do it.”

The room went quiet and all eyes turned to her like she had just declared herself to be an Akuma or something. She blinked, wondering what she said.

Nino was the one to break the silence with a crooked and amused smile. “Marinette, you want Adrien to be the Princess?”

She gaped like a fish, realizing she had heard his earlier question completely and utterly wrong. She waved her arms around and she stuttered, trying, and failing, to clear away her mistake. She froze when Adrien burst out laughing, clearly not offended or even upset.

“Why not?” Adrien chuckled as he calmed. “Not the first time I’ve been told I’m pretty enough to be royalty. It would be a nice break from the cool-guy look I’ve been doing at photoshoots lately, too.”

The room started to buzz again with noise. It seemed everyone was considering it, liking the idea of breaking away from assigning a girl to be the Princess.

Alya pipped up above the others mischievously. “So if Adrien get’s to be the Princess, who’s taking the role of Knight? Another of the boys, or one of the girls? At this point, anyone can take the spot since we’ve decided to ignore traditional gender roles. Any volunteers?”

There was more discussion filling the room at that declaration, and a few people glanced at Chloé. She had probably been gunning for the role of Princess, but now she seemed to be pouting. “If Adrien is taking the lead role, then I still want a good one. But I refuse to be a smelly Knight! I’d rather be the King.” She stated decidedly, and the class chuckled and murmured their acceptance of her decision. They were happy to have her not throwing a fuss. It was rather refreshing, actually, to see her still being dramatic but cooperative with the class.

Murmurs continued as the class discussed the role of Knight. Marinette stayed out of it, too embarrassed that she might mess up again. It wasn’t long before Adrien hummed to himself and turned to her.

“Marinette? Would you like to be the Knight to my Princess?” She squeaked at the sudden proposal, and the class hushed. Adrien turned to the others, a small but confident smile on his lips. “She’s helped all of us in Akuma attacks before, right? Marinette acts the part of a Knight saving dames and damsels in distress naturally. I think she could do this, if she wants to, that is,” he adds with a reassuring glance. There wasa round of agreements from the others, before all eyes turned to her, breaths held in anticipation of her answer.

Retreating into the neckline of her oversized shirt to hide a fluster, she nodded her acceptance. There were a few excited woops, and Kim even whistled.

After that, all the roles and assignments for the project were set.

Marinette and Adrien were to be Knight and Princess. Chloé and Juleka took to the King and Queen. Kim and Ivan claimed a joint role of the Dragon for themselves. Rose volunteered to be the Evil Sorceress. Mylène wanted the role as the Knight’s Fairy Guide. Alix was to make props and set backgrounds in the art room. Nathaniel and Alya were the script-writers for the story. Max and Nino were on camera duty with the help of Markov. Sabrina was put in charge of coordinating, scheduling, and final edits.

Lastly, everyone was given two tasks as a group: First, if they had nothing to, they were to help their fellow classmates who were still working. And second, everyone pitches in for the costumes if they can.

Everything went surprisingly smoothly for their project once everything was divided up. Adrien got Chloé to pitch in for the costumes with him, both allowing their immense closets to be raided. Alya and Nino were able to check out cameras from the yearbook and photography clubs. Props became a group-effort when most of the class rather enjoyed, and got carried away with, the art room’s free to use supplies. Some of the musically inclined were putting together a playlist for mood and background music. Kim helped the cast members practice their lines, even standing in for a partner if someone wasn’t there.

It was fun, Marinette had to admit. Up until the inevitable hitch caught up to them, though.

The days of filming their project were upon them. The school’s courtyard had been commandeered for the majority of their sets, empty due to it being a weekend. Large green rolls of poster paper had been used like wallpaper, hung from the second floor banisters to act as a greenscreen. The stairs got covered in painted cardboard so they would look like castle walls and towers from the side.

The entrance to the school was left clear, since the class had deemed it worthy to be its own set background twice over. The first was to act as the front gate to the King and Queen’s castle for the opening scene outside. The second would be from the inside, doors closed and covered with curtains to make it look like the inside of a Great Hall. To give the makeshift Great Hall its finishing touch, Chloé had ‘borrowed’ the fancy chair from her Father’s office to act as a throne.

All in all, things went great. The story and filming opened with the Knight, Marinette, decked out in painted cardboard and foam armor, returning from a mission in another country. He was summoned by the King and Queen immediately upon arrival, to be told that the Princess, Adrien, had been cursed and kidnapped by the Evil Sorceress. To their credit, Juleka and Chloé actually did an amazing job of acting and looking like emotionally distressed parents who just lost their daughter. And when they did a flashback scene in one of the classrooms, Rose proved to be one scary Evil Sorceress with Adrien a perfect damsel in distress. They did have to redo the scene several times, though, because the Queen, Juleka, was having trouble not looking like she wished she was being kidnapped by a very pretty girl instead.

The Fairy Guide, Mylène, was then called forth to help assist the Knight in tracking down the Evil Sorceress and navigate through the Magic Woods. This part took a mix of walking along the makeshift greenscreen wall multiple times and actually going out to a few of the parks around Paris. They had to admit to themselves, though, that they mostly just wanted to run around in-costume and have fun, as well as eat a picnic that Alya’s mother and Marinette’s father had both contributed to after hearing about the project.

It was the pre-rescue battle scene that caused the hiccup. The class artists had done a too-good job on the two-person costume of their Dragon. Kim sat upon Ivan’s shoulders, allowing the Dragon to have an impressive two and a half metre height from head to ground. Kim was also very set on being very animated and expressive with the Dragon, so the mouth, full of sharp paper mache fangs, opened and closed at his command while he threw glitter out like it was fire. Ivan controlled the legs, wings, and body, which all had moving parts for mobility. The legs were strapped to his own, so they walked and stepped when he did. The wings were controlled by Ivan’s Raven wings, allowing them to move realistically. Kim, acting as the neck, would twist around, and Ivan, needing to keep balance, would follow his movements, causing the whole dragon to lumber around and sway like it was alive.

The Fairy Guide, Mylène, couldn't bring herself to face the Dragon at all, let alone appear on set with it. What really took them off guard, however, was the Akuma that came along as the class was gathered around Mylène.

[kryptored]

Fall

Would you look at that, huh? I finally finished mine and get to post it for all of you to see, especially @bbwoulfc who I wrote this for and provided me with wonderful prompts.

Here’s to my first time participating in the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Valentine Exchange Event 2021. Happy Valentine’s Day!

Cross-posted from AO3.

Organizing his room isn’t something Luka learned from his mother, but it’s what he makes into a habit after living with her his whole life before moving out. His apartment isn’t as messy as La Liberté is after leaving it alone into his mother’s hands, but that doesn’t excuse him from cleaning his own domain every now and then. And so on that’s what he ends up doing on a Monday, free from other obligations that would’ve prevented him from cleaning.

He starts off by clearing out a particular box stained with multi-coloured paint, sitting at the bottom of a shelf in the corner of his bedroom. He wouldn’t have paid too much attention to it on any other day and just made sure to organize the chaotic stacking of whatever’s on top of it, but there’s something about the chaotic joy that emits from the box, calling out to him like a fairy in the forest. And so he sits down, clearing out the surprisingly spacious box filled with so many things. He finds old photos of him and Juleka smiling widely into the camera and showing off their missing teeth, a few forgotten guitar picks obviously painted by himself, some beads of what could only come from his mother’s collection, and an old shirt that he hopes was washed before sleeping in the box for years. But underneath all of those lies an even smaller box painted dark-teal with splatters of pink, rectangular in shape, and with a latch keeping it closed.

The box is small enough that he can hold it with his two hands, but the sound of shuffling tells him that something is hiding inside it. He opens the box carefully, mindful of any stray glitter that he might’ve forgotten about (something he’s learned in the past), only to find something else. He picks up a small notebook that appears to have something stuck in between its many pages, and he realizes they’re pressed flowers – daffodils, rose petals, violets, daisies, and even bluebells. He carefully closes the notebook, making sure that the flowers are left undisturbed, and notices something written on the first page. He recognizes his handwriting and his pathetic attempt at writing his name in cursive, Juleka’s, but there’s a third name that’s written by someone else’s. It looks much neater than his, so it’s easier for him to read it, and his finger gently brushes against the years-old charcoal on paper: ‘Marinette Dupain-Cheng’.

All of a sudden, the name of a long-lost friend unlocks memories of the past. Memories of children spending most of their days together, running around and splashing each other with water and sharing snacks while sitting under a tree. He sees memories that unlock something that has been planted in his heart a long time ago, spending years in silent hibernation, until now.

He blinks his eyes multiple times, trying to shake away the wistfulness and longing of what he thinks is already gone, and puts the notebook back in its place. As he does so, he notices a necklace chain lying at the corner of the small box and picks it up. Strangely enough, nothing is attached to it. He thinks hard on what could have been there, and whether or not it had been lost during one of his previous cleaning before, during, or after moving out. He’ll have to ask his mother and maybe Juleka about that. For now, he pockets the chain and puts the small box right by his bed as a reminder to put it somewhere else.

Not wanting to get too distracted, he quickly and carefully puts the rest of the trinkets away and continues with his cleaning. Despite that, though, he spends most of his cleaning time thinking about the past and a girl he once called Marinette.

While he clears out the dust gathering from every corner, he remembers the softness of her hand whenever they held hands.

While he sweeps the floor, he hums the tune of an unnamed song he remembers singing to her after tripping and scraping her hands and knees.

While he washes, dries, and folds his laundry, he smiles when he remembers the sound of her laugh.

While he cooks dinner, he remembers the smell of grass that lingers around them after rolling around it for hours.

It takes him until he’s lying on his bed, eyes wide open, fingers twiddling with the necklace chain that he realizes it’s always been there. The feelings have always been there, but he was too young to know until now. He closes his eyes to sleep, hoping to at least see her again - if not in reality, but perhaps in his dreams.

He wakes up in the morning, tears staining the sides of his cheeks, and he realizes he’ll never see her again.

A few days after the impromptu visit down memory lane, he walks into an arts and crafts store to buy some special paper to use for his band’s flyers. After asking an employee on which aisle to go to, he hums the same song that reminds him of her, and for now he won’t cry again. But as he turns the corner of the aisle, he halts his steps and his face is frozen with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.

There, standing in the middle of the paper aisle, is who Luka can only assume is Marinette (if he remembers her features correctly). From the looks of the basket she’s carrying filled with paint and paintbrushes, she must’ve been here for a while now. She looks pretty - no, prettier - than how he remembers her, and he wishes he can take a picture of her in case it’s all he has left of her before she disappears again.

She looks pretty (what was wrong with repeating it?) standing there looking at the shelf of cardstock paper, her hair done up in a bun with a few stray strands brushing against her neck and cheeks. She’s wearing a peach-coloured blouse with a ruffled collar and short butterfly sleeves tucked into light-blue high-waisted jeans, and gold-coloured sandals.

Luka changes his mind and thinks that she’s not pretty - she’s absolutely beautiful.

“Marinette?” He calls out to her in a soft voice, unsure if she’ll hear him. Luka remains standing still, his breathing even caught in the moment, and that’s how Marinette finds him when she turns around at the call of her name. She puts on a polite smile, unsure how to address the stranger who knows her name, until she realizes it’s not just a stranger.

It takes her a while to recognize Luka, mostly because of the teal-dyed tips of his hair that apparently suits him well. He’s grown up from the lanky boy she used to grab onto whenever she gets scared, judging by how well the all-black raglan t-shirt clings to his arms. She notices how tall he’s gotten, what with how long his legs look wearing those dark skinny jeans and a pair of low cut white and mint green sneakers.

“Luka? Is that you?”

They simultaneously walk closer to each other, but still wary about whether or not they’re mistaking someone else for their childhood friend.

“It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?” He asks, and his heart beats a little louder and faster when he hears her laugh, the back of her hand covering her mouth to hide her smile and he so wishes to see it again after all these years.

“I guess it has been.”

“So… 15 years, huh?”

“Hm? Oh! Oh, yes!” She laughs again and he loves the sound of it. It sounds even better than he remembers it to be. “I can’t believe it’s been that long already.”

“Yeah, neither can I. So, uh… how have you been? How’re your parents? Do you live around here, too?”

“I’m doing fine and so are my parents. They have a bakery and apartment set up at the 21st arrondissement, so you should come by! They’d love to see you again, you know?” she holds onto one of his arms, and it feels so warm and he doesn’t want her to let go. “What about you? How’re you doing? And Juleka? Your mom?”

“We’re great,” he responds breathily, “I’m glad to see you again, you know? And I’d love to drop by at the bakery. And you said ‘they’ so, does that mean you…?”

“Moved away? Yes, I have.” She lets go, and he feels as if winter has come to hold him instead. “It’s actually not too far from them so, we don’t really miss each other that much.”

They continue with their small reunion, walking around the store while exchanging stories that they missed out on each other. They talk as if 15 years had never separated them at all, until their meeting comes to an end when Marinette sees that time and tells Luka that she has somewhere to be. Sad as it is, he finds comfort when they exchange numbers and have something to hold onto the other - to have something to remind them that they’re not separated anymore.

He waves her off from the store’s door, and it’s only when the same employee he spoke with earlier asks him if he’s found what he’s looking for that remembers he was there to buy paper.

Right, of course.

They spend the entire night after their reunion talking to each other, and it ends with them agreeing to meet up outside of Shakespeare and Company, a bookstore they’ve both been meaning to visit soon. They agree to meet the day after, and it leaves Luka feeling nervous as he picks out what to wear. After 15 minutes (he made sure to wake up extra early today) were spent looking through his closet, he finally decides on a white graphic shirt slightly tucked into light-grey chino shorts with a brown belt to secure it, and blue and white loafers. He grabs his dark-green crossbody bag, checks that everything he needs is already inside, locks his door, and leaves for the bookstore.

When he arrives at the bookstore, he sees Marinette standing outside looking down at her phone, and he can’t help but admire at how adorable she looks wearing a white oversized shirt with drop shoulder sleeves reaching down to her elbows and tucked into all-black shorts, black high cut boots, and a black bucket hat to cover her head from the bright sun. As he walks closer, he notices that she’s left her hair down this time, and the image reminds him of those times she and Juleka would practice different hairstyles on each other. Her other arm holds onto the strap of her own crossbody bag.

Luka coughs into his hand to catch her attention, to which she responds and he’s happy to see how bright her eyes are when she notices him.

“Luka, hi! You’re here!”

“Hello, Marinette.” He greets her, and the way those words leave him feels all too familiar until now. “You ready to go in?”

“I’m excited, actually. But I think knowing you’re spending the day with me makes it even more exciting.”

Unsure whether the weather is getting warmer or not, he clears his throat and opens the door for her. “So am I, actually. After you.”

The day goes well - even better than yesterday - and they spend it like good old friends who leave no time for awkwardness. They touch each other by the arm or by the shoulder, something similar to what they used to do, and yet they’re also more than that. Each touch is warmer and lingers longer than the last, and Luka can only hope that Marinette feels it, too. He thinks she does with how she turns around quickly after they brush their fingers against each other while reaching for the same book. His mind is stuck with the image of what he can only assume was a blush on her face, unable to respond to her squeaking out, “I’ll check the next aisle!”

He only stares at her back, initially scared that she’ll disappear again and never to see him again for 15 more years, but he calms himself and ponders on the tingling that tickles him from inside out. And for the rest of the day, they peek through corners of bookshelves and vacant spaces in-between books, smiling and laughing as they share their finds and decide on what to buy.

They leave the store to eat lunch at a nearby café, doing some more catching up with each other. They talk and talk and talk the entire day away, going from one place to another without a care in the world besides from knowing that finally, finally they’ve found each other again, and it’s like they don’t want to let go of each other again.

The next few days, unfortunately, do not cater to their sudden need for each other’s company, because of their own personal responsibilities. Luka and practicing with his band, writing and composing songs, and visiting his mother and sister while letting them know that he’s seen Marinette again. Marinette, on the other hand, finds herself busy with multiple card orders from her clients, helping out at her parents’ bakery, and definitely letting them know that she’s seen Luka again.

It’s not until a week and a half later that they get to see each other again in person for a picnic. Although they spend the previous nights texting and calling each other, there’s just something about seeing someone special to you without the physical limitations from their phones. Even when it’s summer, the days and nights they spent apart after reuniting could only make them feel like it’s winter.

The picnic was to take place on a field outside of the city, a place recommended to him by one of his bandmates (after some well-deserved teasing when they found out the reason for his asking). Because it was a bit far, Luka volunteered to drive them both there with his car. The lack of the typical urban noises they’ve grown accustomed to only serves as a plus, considering they were both the type to prefer a calm ambience.

Marinette had brought some home-made pastries for them to eat, as well as some water and juice to drink. She also brought with her a sketchbook and some pencils in case inspiration were to strike her and use it for any future cards to make. Asides from those, she also made sure to bring two small bed tray tables for them to place some of the food on. She also decided to wear a light blue V-neck dress just brushing against the top of her knees with circular cap sleeves extending down just before her elbows, and white sandals. Once again, her hair is left down to spread across her back.

Luka, on the other hand, was quite adamant to take responsibility for bringing the picnic blankets that could fit an entire class and more when they first planned the outing. Asides from those, he also brought some foldable chairs for them to sit on if the ground started feeling too stiff for their bottoms, and his guitar to pass the idle time by playing some music for both of them. As for his clothes, this time he went with a light blue button-up shirt with the first two buttons left open, paired with black shorts, and sand-yellow loafers.

After arriving at the field for their picnic, they choose to sit close to a small cluster of trees that would give them more than enough shade to protect them from the sun. They were taking out all of their picnic essentials from Luka’s car while also admiring the scenery in front of them, when Marinette said something.

“This is wonderful, Luka. Please thank your friend for recommending this place, and I really think we should start doing this more.”

“For sure, Marinette. And not that I don’t like it, but aren’t you a bit too early to say that?” He turns around from where he’s busy placing their food basket down, “What if you ended up hating the picnic?”

“Wha - no! As if!” Marinette looks over her shoulder quickly and he sees her eyes going wide, her hands clenching onto the blanket she was supposedly fixing, “Why would I even think that? Why would you think that? This place is perfect, the weather is perfect, the food is perfect, and - ”

“And the company is perfect?” Luka’s question was a gamble on his part, and he hopes that Marinette doesn’t notice the trembling of his voice.

“Yes!”

He also wasn’t sure that she’d even say something back, but he watches as her eyes slowly widen even more, the flush in her cheeks rapidly gaining territory of her entire face, and her mouth shaping into a large ‘O’ until -

‘Yup, there it is.’ He thinks to himself, unsure whether he’s referring to the lovely shade of red on her face or the fact that his childhood friend finally realizes what she’s said.

“I-I mean – it’s because – I wasn’t thinking properly when you – but that doesn’t mean that I think you’re – but you know what I – ” Marinette quickly turns her back on him, her shoulders tense and hunching, and just as Luka’s about to reach out and touch her shoulder for comfort, he’s startled when he hears her muffled scream.

“H-hey…Marinette, come on. It’s okay.” His hand finally makes contact with her shoulder and pats it gently. “I understand, so don’t be too hard on yourself, okay?”

He sits closer to her and gives her a side hug, rubbing her arm to try and console his easily flustered friend. It seems to work when her face finally surfaces from the safety of her hands, face still a little red, her brows scrunched up in worry and her eyes glossy from unshed tears.

“Hey, hey…” he coos at her, leaning even closer to her to the point that their shoulders are practically touching, “It’s alright. I get it. You know you don’t have to worry about embarrassing yourself in front of me. And besides, I am the perfect company after all.”

“Lukaaaaaaa!” she whines and hits him not too hard on the chest, inducing a hearty laugh from him.

“Alright, alright! Easy there, Marinette. How about we forget about this and go right ahead with eating. Sounds good?”

“Mhm.”

“Good. Why don’t you get some of your stuff that’s still in the car, and I’ll set the food?” He gives her the car keys, implying that she can lock the car afterwards. Just as Marinette takes the keys, turns around, and walks away, Luka quickly turns his back towards her to hide his face that’s now rapidly gaining a new shade of red.

‘Magnolia and cherry blossom;’ he thinks to himself, referring to the smell from his friend, ‘like a walk at Champ de Mars.’

Before getting caught, he goes right back to taking the food out from the basket and sets everything down onto the blanket with shaky hands.

After eating and admiring the view, they eventually find themselves leaning onto each other’s back. They make no other noise asides from Luka strumming his guitar and the occasional scratch of charcoal against paper on Marinette’s end. After the slightly awkward chattering from earlier, it worries Luka that there had been little talk between them since then. And even when Marinette would keep on assuring him that everything’s alright, it worries him that perhaps after being separated for 15 long years, not everything goes back to the way it used to be.

Perhaps he is expecting too much, thinking of what ifs and could have beens, and he’s left clueless on how to keep their strange relationship afloat if the day ends on a sour note. Perhaps he should’ve kept his mouth shut, and maybe Marinette wouldn’t feel too uncomfortable anymore and -

A muffled thud rouses him from his deep thoughts, curious to know what could’ve dropped onto the blanket. Just as he turns back to ask Marinette what it was (if she would even answer him at all), he sees something flash from her small and soft hands.

There, sitting perfectly from Marinette’s hand, is what looks like an open pocket watch with its outside the colour of champagne. But as he looks closer, he realizes it’s actually a compass with a sundial instead of a watch with gold-coloured rims. Marinette notices him looking at what she’s holding, and before she can say a word, he beats her to it by asking,

“You still have that? After all these years?”

“Of course. It’s one of the few things I can never let go.”

Instead of saying something back, Luka immediately starts patting his shirt and shorts, before finally putting his hand in one of his pockets to grab something and pull out the same necklace chain he had found in the small box hiding in his room, and holds it out to her.

“This is its chain for it, right? The compass, I mean.”

“Y-yeah. You told me I could have the compass while you keep the chain, so we’d know there’s always a chance for us to see each other again.”

The words ‘and we did’ are left unsaid, but they still knew what it meant for them. What it means for them. No longer able to stop himself, he cups both her cheeks and leans his forehead against hers, close enough to smell the flowers on her again. Close enough to brush his nose against hers. Close enough to just kiss her.

But he doesn’t and she doesn’t. And frankly, they’re alright with what they have right now.

They end their picnic in the late afternoon, with the sun still up and hinting a shade of orange in its yellows. They pack everything back inside Luka’s car in silence, but the kind where they are comfortable and content without the words. They spend the rest of the drive back to the city basking in a new kind of understanding, one that they’ve chosen to keep among themselves, hands bashfully brushing against each other every now and then, and eyes sneaking glances at one another.

They don’t talk again until Luka drops Marinette off, helps her put all her stuff back in her apartment, and stands outside of her door.

“Thank you again for the picnic, Luka.”

“And thank you for the company, Marinette.” Instead of getting flustered at the reminder of what happened earlier, she only offers him a small smile.

“You know you can stay a little longer if you want,” she offers, “surely you must be tired from driving.”

She wraps her hands across herself, her fingers playing with the fabric of her dress. Her hair is now tied into a loose side ponytail, her sandals replaced with soft home slippers in light pink.

Luka scratches his right cheek with a finger, his eyes telling her without words that he is more than ready to accept her invitation. His left hand is hiding within the confines of his pocket, fidgeting as much as possible with his phone.

But just as Luka opens his mouth to verbally accept her offer, they hear something buzz. Luka immediately takes his phone out, sees his mother’s name and excuses himself, walking a few steps away from Marinette. He notices her glancing away, giving him some privacy.

His head is filled with today’s events, even as he listens to his mother’s words through the phone. He can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, they’re not just childhood friends anymore. That maybe, just maybe, these feelings between them can grow just as they have. But as soon as he comes to that conclusion, his heart drops at what his mother tells him.

He hangs up after bidding her goodbye, puts his phone back in his pocket, and walks back to Marinette. For every step he takes, he dreads of the disappointment he’ll see on her face as soon as he tells her,

“Sorry, but I can’t stay.”

The guilt eats at him as he watches her smile drop, her bright blue eyes looking from up at him to down at her shoes, her brows a little furrowed from -

‘Disappointment. She’s disappointed I can’t stay.’

“So, uh…” he clears his throat, “I really want to stay, but Ma called me to – ”

“It’s okay, I understand.” Marinette finally looks up, and Luka’s glad that there aren’t any tears. “Just tell her and Juleka I said hi.”

“Yeah, for sure.”

He remains standing in front of her, still not ready to leave her in fear that it’ll be the last he sees of her. They remain standing in front of each other in silence, the gaiety from today slowly slipping away until it leaves them with a cold hug. All of a sudden, it feels like winter during a summer night. It doesn’t make sense; not in the slightest, and Luka hates it.

“I guess I’ll just call you when I get home?” He asks her, his arms opening up to invite her for a hug.

“Yeah, of course.” She walks into his embrace, and he’s not even ashamed of letting out a sigh of relief when he feels her hands wrap around him. “Let me know when you’re back home.”

He hums in agreement, even when bites his tongue to not say ‘I am home. With you.’

They separate after a few more seconds, but only enough that they’re still wrapped around each other, Luka looking down at Marinette’s face. He looks into her eyes, and he sees the same blue sky that often smiled upon them when they used to be children, and he wishes to see the same sky now that they’re no longer that young. He looks at the small blush that finds itself spreading onto her cheeks like the picnic blankets they used, and he sees the sunset that used to smile down on them whenever they bid farewell and went back home; before the last goodbye turned into years instead of a night and day.

And suddenly, he has an idea.

He has an idea, and it’s a very bold one. He has an idea that has been whispering suggestively at him from the very corner of his mind, persisting to catch his attention and never going away. He has an idea that persists on calling out to him, screaming at him, telling him to just –

He leans down slowly, his eyes looking into hers before falling down onto her lips. He looks into those lips that he keeps thinking whether they taste just as sweet as the pastries she bakes.

Instead, he gently presses his own lips onto hers, and all he tastes are blueberries and lemon. He thinks he’s kissing pure bliss, but perhaps it’s happiness.

He feels her hand cup his cheek, slightly putting pressure onto the skin and pushing him closer to her, and suddenly happiness turns into elation. Marinette is responding and it’s utterly delightful. Luka doesn’t want to let her go anymore – because he’s finally telling her what’s been gnawing at him – but he pulls away, nonetheless.

He hears her whine in disappointment, and he mentally berates himself for making the habit of disappointing her.

“I have to go now.” He whispers to her, but with where he’s looking, neither knows if he’s telling Marinette, herself, or her pair of lips.

After gaining the confidence to look into her eyes again, Luka believes his knees are going weak.

“I really have to go now.” He tells her, and he leans onto her hand when her fingers start caressing his cheek.

“I know.”

He finally lets her go and steps away, unwilling to turn his back around; afraid that he’ll lose sight of her and never see her again for years. Or ever at all.

“I’ll call you later?”

Marinette can only smile at the boy she once knew 15 years ago, tucking stray hands of her hair behind her ear.

“I’ll wait for you.”

He smiles back at her before walking away,

only to quickly turn back around to kiss her like sunlight with the flowers on fresh, spring morning.

[jared-19-cant-reid]

A Study In Behavior: Chapter 1

A Study In Behavior (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 1: Obsession

Rating: G

Word Count: 1.8K

Series Summary: When you signed up for Professor Reid’s class, you were expecting a low effort but interesting class to fill your psychology elective credit. Instead, your fascination with the professor leaves you spending more time than you’d expected in office hours. 

Chapter Summary: A strange dream and an unusual professor make today’s lecture much more interesting than you thought it would be.

Warnings: teacher/student relationship, cursing, mentions of anxiety, suggestive language, implied age gap.

A/N: I’m planning on making this an eventual smut slow burn, since this is one of my favorite tropes and I want to make it a Realistic daydream lmao. This chapter is focused on introducing you to the world, reader, and this version of Spencer. Lots of potential here, I already have a million different ideas of how this should go... as always dms and asks are open!

~

The pattering of rain on the tin roof seemed to crescendo, a million drummers tapping out a perpetual drumroll on steel drums above your head. You’d always complained you couldn’t hear yourself think with all that noise, but you missed it despite yourself when you left Seattle for college. You were pulled away from that brief moment of self awareness by the touch of a cold hand, clutching yours as if you might be snatched away at any moment if the grip were to loosen.

You opened your eyes, finding yourself in a bed you knew all too well. A bed you’d spent too many hours in, slept too many nights in, and yet was not your own. Turning your head to the right, you took in the sight of your sleeping mother, her expression of serenity contradicted by the deep creases in her face, betraying the frown that she wore most of her waking life. Your gaze trailed down to your hand in hers; her knuckles were turning white from her tight grip, but you didn’t feel any pain. 

Laying next to her, you watched her face for what felt like hours as her chest rose and fell in the lazy patterns of slumber, too afraid of waking her with your movement to breathe. She almost looked happy like this. Suddenly, your thoughts were interrupted by a loud beeping sound. You looked around for the offending fire alarm, but as you scanned the ceiling it began to dissolve before your eyes, the grip on your hand loosening until you broke free from the scene fully.

~

You opened your eyes with a start as you sat up quickly, feeling out of place in your own room. You were a painting placed in the wrong section of a museum, an unintentional imposter. Nails digging into your comforter, you tried in vain to slow your shallow breaths as you looked around wildly for something to remind you of where you were, of who you were. 

Your eyes skipped from your stack of  records from your childhood leaning casually against the wall beside the record player on your desk, to the stacks of books watching over you from the top of your bookshelf, unable to fit on the shelves but too close to your heart to part with. Your gaze finally settled on the floor, taking in the mess you’d been meaning to clean up for days now. 

As you returned to your body, you could no longer ignore the blaring of your alarm, groaning as you reached for your phone on the nightstand. A glance at the screen had you shooting out of bed. Shit, I have to be at class in 20 minutes. You got up, muttering to yourself about how 8 A.M. classes should be considered cruel and unusual punishment, and maneuvered around your clothes strewn across the floor. 

As you raced to your closet, your eyes scanned the clothes you owned, speeding through mental images of a million combinations before giving up and reaching for your comfort clothes. You pulled on the green high waisted cargo pants that you’d owned since high school. Nobody to impress in this class anyway, you reasoned, grabbing the fitted white crop top that your friend had embroidered your name on. 

You tore through the apartment in the most violent and rushed performance of a morning routine the world had ever seen, only half trying to keep quiet for the sake of your neighbors. Hair tangled between your fingers and makeup was swiped on haphazardly as you struggled to make yourself presentable, cursing at the time and throwing random belongings in your bag.

Calling out a goodbye to your roommate only to be met with silence, you realized that in your frenzy you had forgotten that no sane college student would willingly be up at this hour. Shaking your head as you rushed out of your building, you mused that you’d just gotten all your stupid mistakes for today over with quite efficiently. 

Three years of mediocre dorm experiences had left you desperate for a change, and luckily your now-roommate Jordan volunteered to split the rent for the 2 bedroom you now called home. You’d both agreed to ignore whatever ghost stories scared off previous residents and earned you a fair price for a decent place close to campus; ghosts would just add a little intrigue to your domestic life, you’d joked. 

Checking the time once more, you cursed under your breath and broke out into a run. God, I should work out more, you thought as your lungs began to burn, I wouldn’t stand a chance in a zombie apocalypse. Racing through campus, you finally reached the doors of the lecture hall that held your class… which had started three minutes prior. You tried to catch your breath before opening the door, cringing as you heard the professor pause mid-lecture. 

You tried not to meet anyone’s gaze as you quickly made your way to a seat. The first one you could find was in the third row-- close enough to the front to make out the facial expressions of your professor, who had continued his train of thought after you entered, choosing to ignore you in favor of finishing his idea. 

As you got settled and tuned into the lecture, you realized the professor was still reviewing the syllabus. Pulling it up on your laptop, you looked at the top to remind yourself of his name: Dr. Spencer Reid. Finally looking up, your mind went blank. Oh. Not only was your professor way younger than you’d expected, he was... well, attractive. Thats’s a reasonable objective assessment, right? You knew he was just as knowledgeable as older professors-- you’d chosen this course for its fantastic reviews from previous students-- but his youth was a welcome change from the dinosaurs you were so used to in the neuroscience department. 

As you studied him, you only became more sure in your original assessment; he was tall, with tousled brunet hair and a face that was… well, unfair. You weren’t surprised to catch a few other girls unabashedly staring at him, clearly drooling over the man as he spoke animatedly about his favorite parts of the course. 

You shook yourself-- this man was your professor. You shouldn’t think about how attractive he is, it’s unprofessional. You also shouldn’t look at his hands the way you are right now, following them as he gestured along with his words you still weren’t paying attention to. You definitely shouldn’t think about what those hands could do. 

Oh my god, snap out of it, you reprimanded yourself, you can’t afford to spend the semester fantasizing about your professor, focus on the class! You finally tuned in to the lecture, catching the end of what sounded like a tangent about the difference between triggers and stressors. For the rest of the class, you listened intently, drawn in by Professor Reid’s clear excitement about the topic. 

Your efforts to ignore your professor’s appearance were somewhat successful, but as you listened to him speak passionately about the value of profiling as a tool for certain types of criminal investigations, you knew you were done for. His excitement about sharing his knowledge left you fighting back a smile, watching intently as he gestured wildly. You’d always liked listening to fellow nerds, eagerly basking in the pure delight beaming from their faces as they ranted about their subject of interest.

You sighed internally, preparing yourself for a semester of unreasonable dedication to this class, which was meant to be your chill psych elective to leave you more time to spend in the lab. It’s not like this topic wasn’t interesting to you, it was just that you weren’t expecting to be obsessed with it-- or more accurately, the man teaching it.

Before you knew it, the class was over. Professor Reid told everyone to finish the assigned reading by next class in preparation for a discussion, dismissing the class and walking over to his desk. You gathered up your belongings and the remnants of your dignity before slowly making your way to the exit, lost in thought about the overlap between your field and his. 

Your feet changed course before you could stop to think about what you were doing. When you tuned back in, you were horrified to find that you were walking towards Professor Reid. Right when you were about to turn around and try to escape without further embarrassment, you were stopped by his curious but friendly gaze. Ignoring your inner voice’s screams of horror, you composed yourself and made your way over to his desk. 

He spoke before you could, greeting you with a small smile and a polite “how can I help you?”

“Hi! Um, I just wanted to come apologize for being late today. I promise, it’s really unlike me, and I just don’t want you to think that I don’t care about your class or anything, because it seems really cool so far and I’m so interested in seeing how this could apply to my research and I was only really late because of this dream I had-”

You stopped before going into detail, saving yourself from your nervous rambling, and he spoke your name hesitantly. Your confusion must have been apparent on your face, because he looked at your chest, clearly having made the connection from the word embroidered on it. The devil on your shoulder whispered that his eyes had lingered there longer than they needed to, but you dismissed that thought quickly. 

“There’s no need to apologize, as long as you don’t make a habit of it we should be fine,” he reassured you, “and judging from how well you paid attention today, I have no doubt you’ll more than make up for it next class in the discussion.”

You bit back a smile at his praise, shocked he’d noticed you at all. You thanked your lucky stars he’d interpreted your staring as interest in the class, rather than the glaring sign of attraction that it would easily be identified as in any other setting. You quickly nodded, thanking him for his understanding and promising it wouldn’t happen again before exchanging goodbyes as you turned and walked out of the room. 

Bursting out of the lecture hall, you finally filled your lungs with air fully, trying to regain some sense of control over your feelings. As you walked to the library to study, your mind wandered back to Professor Reid. It’s not like he’d ever feel the same way, what’s the harm in a little daydreaming? You decided you could live with a harmless crush. Keeps things interesting, you thought. Stepping into your castle of books, you pushed the events of the morning to the back of your mind, but one thought lingered: This is going to be one hell of a semester.

[howlermemes]

                                       𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐤𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐭                                                l  y  r  i  c    s  t  a  r  t  e  r  s

✽  long post ahead bc i have no self control ! ✽  change pronouns / punctuation as needed . ✽  some lyrics are explicit. ✽  some themes are slightly darker. ✽  alteratively, send    ♫ 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚔𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚎    to have a lyric automatically generated & said to your muse instead .

[ track 01 ]   the 1 ❛ I'm doing good! I'm on some new shit. ❜ ❛ I thought I saw you at the bus stop. ❜ ❛ I hit the ground running each night. ❜ ❛ You know, the greatest films of all time were never made. ❜ ❛ If you wanted me, you really should have showed. ❜ ❛ If you never bleed, you're never gonna grow. ❜ ❛ It's alright now. ❜ ❛ We were something, don't you think so? ❜ ❛ If my wishes came true, it would have been you. ❜ ❛ In my defense — I have none for never leaving well enough alone. ❜ ❛ It would have been fun if you would have been the one. ❜ ❛ I had this dream you're doing cool shit, having adventures on your own. ❜ ❛ We never painted by the numbers, baby. ❜ ❛ We were making it count. ❜ ❛ You know the greatest loves of all time are over now. ❜ ❛ I guess you never know. ❜ ❛ It's another day of waking up alone. ❜ ❛ If one thing had been different, would everything be different today? ❜ ❛ It would have been sweet if it could've been me. ❜ ❛ In my defense, I have none for digging up the grave another time. ❜

[ track 02 ]   cardigan ❛ When you are young, they assume you know nothing. ❜ ❛ Baby, kiss it better. ❜ ❛ I was your favorite. ❜ ❛ A friend to all is a friend to none. ❜ ❛ Chase two girls, lose the one. ❜ ❛ To kiss in cars and downtown bars was all we needed. ❜ ❛ You drew stars around my scars and now I'm bleeding. ❜ ❛ I knew you tried to change the ending. ❜ ❛ I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss. ❜ ❛ I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs. ❜ ❛ I knew everything when I was young. ❜ ❛ I knew I'd curse you for the longest time. ❜ ❛ I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired, and you'd be standing in my front porch light. ❜ ❛ I knew you'd come back to me. ❜

[ track 03 ]   the last great american dynasty ❛ How did a middle-class divorcee do it? ❜ ❛ The wedding was a charming, if a little gauche. ❜ ❛ There's only so far new money goes. ❜ ❛ Their parties were tasteful, if a little loud. ❜ ❛ It must have been her fault his heart gave out. ❜ ❛ There goes the last great American dynasty. ❜ ❛ Who knows, if she never showed up, what could have been. ❜ ❛ There goes the maddest woman this town has ever seen. ❜ ❛ They say she was seen on occasion, pacing the rocks, staring out the sea. ❜ ❛ In a feud with her neighbor, she stole his dog and dyed it key lime green. ❜ ❛ Fifty years is a long time. ❜ ❛ Who knows, if I never showed up, what could've been. ❜ ❛ I had a marvelous time ruining everything. ❜ ❛ I had a marvelous time. ❜

[ track 04 ]   exile ❛ I can see you standing, honey, with his arms around your body. ❜ ❛ I think I've seen this film before, and I didn't like the ending. ❜ ❛ You're not my homeland anymore. ❜ ❛ What am I defending now? ❜ ❛ You were my town. Now I'm in exile, seeing you out. ❜ ❛ I can see you staring, honey, like he's just your understudy, like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me. ❜ ❛ You'd get your knuckles bloody for me. ❜ ❛ Those eyes add insult to injury. ❜ ❛ I'm not your problem anymore. ❜ ❛ Who am I offending now? ❜ ❛ You were my crown. Now I'm in exile, seeing you out. ❜ ❛ I'm leaving out the side door. ❜ ❛ There is no amount of crying I can do for you. ❜ ❛ All this time, we always walked a very thin line. ❜ ❛ You didn't even hear me out. ❜ ❛ You never gave a warning sign. ❜ ❛ I gave so many signs. ❜ ❛ All this time, I never learned to read your mind. ❜ ❛ I couldn't turn things around. ❜ ❛ You never turned things around. ❜ ❛ You didn't even see the signs. ❜

[ track 05 ]   my tears ricochet ❛ If I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes, too. ❜ ❛ Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe — all the hell you gave me? ❜ ❛ I loved you, I swear I loved you, until my dying day. ❜ ❛ I didn't have it in myself to go with grace. ❜ ❛ You're the hero flying around, saving face. ❜ ❛ If I'm dead to you, why were you at the wake? ❜ ❛ Look at how my tears ricochet. ❜ ❛ We gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean. ❜ ❛ You know I didn't want to have to haunt you. ❜ ❛ What a ghostly scene. ❜ ❛ You used to tell me I was brave. ❜ ❛ I can go anywhere I want. Anywhere I want, just not home. ❜ ❛ You can aim for my heart — go for blood. ❜ ❛ You would still miss me in your bones. ❜ ❛ I still talk to you when I'm screaming at the sky. ❜ ❛ You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same. ❜ ❛ You turned into your worst fears. ❜ ❛ You're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain, crossing out the good years. ❜

[ track 06 ]   mirrorball ❛ I'll show you every version of yourself tonight. ❜ ❛ When I break, it's a million pieces. ❜ ❛ Hush. ❜ ❛ You'll find me on my tallest tip-toes, spinning in my highest heels, love — shining just for you. ❜ ❛ I know they said the end is near. ❜ ❛ I can change everything about me to fit in. ❜ ❛ You're not like the regulars. ❜ ❛ I'm still on that tightrope. ❜ ❛ I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me. ❜ ❛ I'm still a believer, but I don't know why. ❜ ❛ I've never been a natural. ❜ ❛ All I do is try, try, try. ❜ ❛ I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me. ❜

[ track 07 ]   seven ❛ Please picture me in the trees. ❜ ❛ I hit my peak at seven, feet in the swing over the creek. ❜ ❛ I was too scared to jump in, but I was high in the sky. ❜ ❛ Are there still beautiful things? ❜ ❛ Cross your heart. ❜ ❛ Though I can't recall your face, I still got love for you. ❜ ❛ Love you to the moon and to Saturn. ❜ ❛ The love lasts so long. ❜ ❛ I've been meaning to tell you, I think your house is haunted. ❜ ❛ Your dad is always mad. ❜ ❛ I think you should come live with me. ❜ ❛ We can be pirates! ❜ ❛ You won't have to cry or hide in the closet. ❜ ❛ Our love will be passed on. ❜ ❛ I used to scream ferociously any time I wanted. ❜ ❛ Pack your dolls and a sweater. ❜

[ track 08 ]   august ❛ Salt air and the rust on your door — I never needed anything more. ❜ ❛ I can see us lost in the memory. ❜ ❛ August slipped away into a moment in time, because it was never mine. ❜ ❛ I was see us twisted in bedsheets. ❜ ❛ August sipped away like a bottle of wine, because you were never mine. ❜ ❛ Will you call me when you're back at school? ❜ ❛ I remember thinking I had you. ❜ ❛ It was never mine. ❜ ❛ You were never mine. ❜ ❛ For me, it was enough to live for the hope of it all. ❜ ❛ I canceled plans just in case you'd call. ❜ ❛ Meet me behind the mall. ❜ ❛ So much for summer love and saying "us". ❜ ❛ You weren't mine to lose. ❜ ❛ Do you remember? ❜ ❛ Remember when I pulled up and said "Get in the car." ❛ I was living for the hope of it all. ❜

[ track 09 ]   this is me trying ❛ I've been having a hard time adjusting. ❜ ❛ I didn't know if you'd care if I came back. ❜ ❛ I have a lot of regrets about that. ❜ ❛ Maybe I don't quite know what to say. ❜ ❛ I'm here in your doorway. ❜ ❛ I just wanted you to know this is me trying. ❜ ❛ I got wasted like all my potential. ❜ ❛ My words shoot to kill when I'm mad. I have a lot of regrets about that. ❜ ❛ I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere. ❜ ❛ I ended up here, pouring my heart out to a stranger. ❜ ❛ I didn't pour the whiskey. ❜ ❛ At least I'm trying. ❜ ❛ It's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound. ❜ ❛ It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you. ❜ ❛ You're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town. ❜

[ track 10 ]   illicit affairs ❛ Make sure nobody sees you leave. ❜ ❛ Tell your friends you're out for a run. ❜ ❛ You'll be flushed when you return. ❜ ❛ Take the road less traveled by. ❜ ❛ Tell yourself you can always stop. ❜ ❛ What started in beautiful rooms, ends with meeting in parking lots. ❜ ❛ That's the thing about illicit affairs — and clandestine meetings and longing stares. ❜ ❛ It's born from just one single glance, but it dies and it dies and it dies a million little times. ❜ ❛ You leave no trace behind. ❜ ❛ Take the words for what they are — a dwindling mercurial high, a drug that only worked the first few hundred times. ❜ ❛ They show their truth one single time, but they lie and they lie and they lie. A million little times. ❜ ❛ Don't call me "kid". ❜ ❛ Don't call me "baby". ❜ ❛ Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me. ❜ ❛ You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else. ❜ ❛ Look at this idiotic fool that you made me. ❜ ❛ You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else. ❜ ❛ You know damn well, for you, I would ruin myself a million little times. ❜

[ track 11 ]   invisible string ❛ I used to think I would meet somebody there. ❜ ❛ Teal was the color of your shirt when you were sixteen at the yogurt shop. ❜ ❛ Time, curious time. ❜ ❛ Were there clues I didn't see? ❜ ❛ Isn't it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me? ❜ ❛ You ate at my favorite spot for dinner. ❜ ❛ She said I looked like an American singer. ❜ ❛ Time, mystical time — cutting me open, then healing me fine. ❜ ❛ Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire. ❜ ❛ One single thread of gold tied me to you. ❜ ❛ Gold was the color of the leaves when you around Centennial Park. ❜ ❛ Hell was the journey, but it brought me to heaven. ❜ ❛ Time, wondrous time, gave me the blues and then purple-pink skies. ❜ ❛ It's cool, baby, with me. ❜

[ track 12 ]   mad woman ❛ What did you think I'd say to that? ❜ ❛ Does a scorpion sting when fighting back? ❜ ❛ They strike to kill, and you know I will. ❜ ❛ What do you sing on your drive home? ❜ ❛ Do you see my face in the neighbors lawn? ❜ ❛ Fuck you forever. ❜ ❛ Every time you call me crazy, I get more crazy. ❜ ❛ When you say I seem angry, I get more angry. ❜ ❛ There's nothing like a mad woman. ❜ ❛ What a shame she went mad. ❜ ❛ No one likes a mad woman. You made her like that. ❜ ❛ You'll poke that bear 'till her claws come out and you find something to wrap your noose around. ❜ ❛ I breathe flames each time I talk. ❜ ❛ They say "Move On," but you know I won't. ❜ ❛ Women like hunting witches too, doing your dirtiest work for you. ❜ ❛ It's obvious that wanting me dead has really brought you two together. ❜ ❛ I'm taking my time. ❜ ❛ You took everything from me. ❜ ❛ She should be mad, should be scathing like me. ❜

[ track 13 ]   epiphany ❛ I think he's bleeding out. ❜ ❛ Some things you just can't speak about. ❜ ❛ With you, I serve. With you, I fall down. ❜ ❛ I think she's crashing out. ❜ ❛ Only twenty minutes to sleep. ❛ You dream of some epiphany — just one single glimpse of relief. ❜

[ track 14 ]   betty ❛ I won't make assumptions. ❜ ❛ I think it's because of me. ❜ ❛ One time, I was riding on my skateboard when I passed your house. ❜ ❛ It's like I couldn't breathe. ❜ ❛ You heard the rumors. ❜ ❛ You can't believe a word she says most times. But this time, it was true. ❜ ❛ The worst thing that I ever did was what I did to you. ❜ ❛ If I just showed up at your party, would you have me? ❜ ❛ Would you want me? ❜ ❛ Would you tell me to go fuck myself? ❜ ❛ In the garden, would you trust me if I told you it was a just a summer thing? ❜ ❛ I'm only seventeen. I don't know anything. ❜ ❛ I don't know anything, but I know I miss you. ❜ ❛ I know where it all went wrong. ❜ ❛ I was nowhere to be found. ❜ ❛ I hate crowds. You know that. ❜ ❛ I saw you dance with him. ❜ ❛ I was walking home on broken cobblestones, just thinking of you. ❛ She pulled up like a figment of my worst intentions. ❜ ❛ Get in. Let's drive. ❜ ❛ I dreamt of you all summer long. ❜ ❛ I planned it out for weeks now. ❜ ❛ It's finally sinking in. ❜ ❛ Right now is the last time. ❜ ❛ I can dream about what happens when you can see my face again. ❜ ❛ The only thing I wanna do is make it up to you. ❜ ❛ Will you have me? ❜ ❛ Will you love me? ❜ ❛ Will you kiss me on the porch in front of all your stupid friends? ❜ ❛ If you kiss me, will it be just like I dreamed it? ❜ ❛ I don't know anything. ❜

[ track 15 ]   peace ❛ Our coming-of-age has come and gone. ❜ ❛ I never had the courage of my convictions, as long as danger is near. ❜ ❛ It's just around the corner, darlin. ❜ ❛ I could never give you peace. ❜ ❛ I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm. ❜ ❛ All these people think love's for show, but I would die for you in secret. ❜ ❛ The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me. ❜ ❛ Would it be enough if I could never give you peace? ❜ ❛ Your integrity makes me seem small. ❜ ❛ I talk shit with my friends. It's like I'm wasting your honor. ❜ ❛ Is it enough? ❜ ❛ I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best. ❜ ❛ The rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me. ❜

[ track 16 ]   hoax ❛ This has broken me down. ❜ ❛ This has frozen my ground. ❜ ❛ Give me a reason. ❜ ❛ Your faithless love's the only hoax I believe in. ❜ ❛ Don't want no other shade of blue, but you. ❜ ❛ No other sadness in the world would do. ❜ ❛ I am ash from your fire. ❜ ❛ You know I left a part of me back in New York. ❜ ❛ You knew the hero died, so what's the movie for? ❜ ❛ You knew it still hurts underneath my scars. ❜ ❛ You knew you won, so what's the point of keeping score? ❜ ❛ It still hurts underneath my scars. ❜ ❛ What you did was just as dark. ❜ ❛ Darling, this was just as hard as when they pulled me apart. ❜

[katherinewilliams221b]

For A Greater Good 10/18

not my gif just the text (Feels Like Home)

Summary: Kate Williams, young healer and member of the Order, joins Durmstrang’s staff at Dumbledore’s request. Her mission? Find a   Death Eater and survive long enough to tell the story. Set in 1996.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x ofc/mc

Masterlist

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

[Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9]

--

“I snuck out some tea from the kitchens.”

Kate left two teacups and a teapot on a small table in a corner of the first floor of the library.

Corentin raised an eyebrow.

“It’s not my first time.” She sat down in front of him with a small smile and nodded, letting Corentin serve the tea.

“Well... how’s life as a librarian?”

“Busier than it might seem. I’m constantly learning. So, I hear you’re a teacher now.”

Kate wrinkled her nose and took a sip of her drink.

“Attempt to be... with poor results. Let’s change the subject, I need to think about something else. Tell me about yourself.”

Corentin drank from his cup and looked up, pretending to think.

“Let’s see, I have a sister, Arlette, who lives in Lyon. She is an artist. That painting over there is hers.”

Kate turned and twisted her neck to see the painting hanging on the wall. It was a tree among mountains of snowy peaks with long branches that, instead of leaves, hung tiny books that opened and closed.

“The landscape changes with the seasons and the books come and go from the canvas according to the flow of the library books.

“Your sister is a genius.” She commented, admiring the painting.

“I will make sure she never hears that; we must not feed her ego.”

Amidst her laughter, Kate gasped and Corentin silently admonished her for being too loud.

She reached inside the cape and took out the copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

“At last. Something more suitable for your age next time, perhaps?

“It took me a long time, I know, I didn’t have time. But I think I’ve understood. You told me that the key to Grindelwald’s power was in this book. And one of the stories caught my attention.”

“Well?”

“The fountain of fair fortune. Three witches and a knight are chosen to make a wish to the fountain of good fortune. On the way, they encounter different challenges. They must deliver three things: the proof of their pain, the fruit of their efforts, and the treasure of their past.

The librarian patiently drank his tea while Kate spoke.

“Leaving aside the moral, if that fountain were to come into existence, did Grindelwald manage to find it to ask for power? And the experiments he was doing here in Durmstrang, were those sacrifices?”

Kate stared at Corentin, excited by her reasoning and waiting for his approval.

“I like the way your mind works, but you’ve got the wrong tale.” Kate deflated and finished what was left of her tea in the cup.

Corentin raised an arm and a scroll and a quill flew at them. With graceful fingers, he drew a circle on the paper.

“The resurrection stone.” With three lines, he wrapped the circle. “The cloak of invisibility.” And finally, a single straight line crossed both figures. “The Elder Wand. They are called: the Deathly Hallows.”

Kate’s brow jumped to her hairline thinking about the column in the courtyard, but then she looked at Corentin in confusion. “Do they exist?”

“You were willing to believe that there was a fountain that grants wishes, weren’t you?” Kate shrugged her head in agreement.

“I know that Gellert believed in them and that he spent the time here in Durmstrang looking for them. And I have the impression that, some time later, he found at least one.”

“The older brother’s wand.” Corentin nodded.

“The mark on that column has nothing to do with him. People began to associate him with it, and he never denied it.”

She sighed and looked up at the centre of the tower where the enormous chandelier hanging high in the air sparkled.

“Williams. You must understand that if you tell this to anyone, you will look like a fool. No one believes that they exist because they have never been found.”

“Then why are you telling me?”

“Because you asked me and I’m telling you what I believe.”

They continued to drink tea in pleasant silence while Kate thought about the importance of this new information.

Nothing that Corentin was telling her served her well in her mission and, although it was true that curiosity got the better of her, the whole thing was a dead end.

Just before she was about to return the tea set to the kitchens,  Corentin stopped her.

“I don’t know if you know this already, but there’s a greenhouse behind the castle.” Kate’s eyes rounded. “Flavia wasn’t using it, but you might be interested.”

“Corentin, you don’t know how happy you’ve just made me now.”

“And Kate... do you want another piece of advice?" She nodded, "be the teacher you wish you had.”

 --

A greenhouse. A greenhouse that no one had told her about. It was a mistake on her part not to have insisted on it.

This was exactly what she needed: having something to put a little green in her life, to feel the earth in her hands, to water flowers and to see them grow.

After sneaking back into the kitchens to return the teapot, she went to the place Corentin had indicated to her right by the lake.

It was quite far from the castle and it was abandoned, Professor Hodges didn’t use it for her classes, and that showed in the students’ knowledge.

With a look full of hope, she ventured inside the building.

She walked through the rubble, full of broken pots and dry leaves. The plants that were there were dead except for the ivy that had worked its way through the broken glass on the roof.

“I must cut that down.” She muttered to herself.

She ran her hand over the wooden table. It was in good condition, not a single splinter, and the varnish was practically intact. It was big enough to teach all the children at once.

She inspected every cabinet and drawer, taking inventory of the material and equipment she had. She could give a decent lesson with those instruments and was looking forward to that.

She looked around once more and, filled with joy, she was soon trying to put on one overall she found over the dress. Luckily, it was loose enough.

After making a bun with a rubber band, she armed herself with a pair of pruning shears and a ladder and climbed up to the glass roof to get rid of the ivy which covered the inside of the building.

The hours passed, and the morning turned into evening faster than she would have wished. For the first time since she had been at Durmstrang, she felt at home.

From the top of the dome and with her wand between her teeth, she admired the colours of the sky. It looked like a freshly painted canvas, one of Badeea’s paintings.

She was mesmerised for a few minutes, during which she began to feel the effects of a whole day’s hard work. She massaged her thighs and threw away the last branch of ivy she had in her hand before going back down into the greenhouse.

She picked up her wand and with a wave of the hand all the crushed glass on the floor flew to their rightful place, recomposing the roof and walls.

The broom that she had bewitched a few hours ago rested beside the mountain of leaves and dust that waited to be picked up by the door.

Kate looked at her work with satisfaction, and though it might have taken much less time to restore the building completely with magic, the manual labour also restored her spirit and soul.

She circled the centre table and headed for the flowerpots in the closet at the end of the room.

She decided that removing weeds and changing the soil was part of the experience of learning herbology, so she just removed the dust and cobwebs to save her students some work.

Her students. It was a curious phrase. She had never seen herself as a teacher. It was Rowan who did that work, not her. After seeing the essays that they had done, she had no hope of improving her teaching skills until that point.

The opportunity to be able to interact with the plants they had been studying would perhaps make them all less miserable and might even get them to learn something. Getting them to be interested in the subject was going to be a more laborious task.

Charlie would be a brilliant teacher, with that infinite patience he has, she thought.

A wave of melancholy washed over her unexpectedly.

Oh, how she missed him. It was usual to go for an entire day without seeing each other, or speaking, each one busy with their respective work, but both knew that the time would come to meet for dinner and share their day amidst laughter and kisses.

Now that was impossible.

As she let her mind torture her, she had not realised that she had begun to stir the soil with her fingers and that in turn, all those thoughts were channelled into the pot, making a small orange flower grow. She was startled to feel the warmth of magic in her fingers reaching the flower.

Her eyes suddenly blurred, and without being able to avoid it, one tear after another ran down her cheeks and made their way down her throat.

She sniffled and then grunted, feeling stupid. She wiped her tears with her sleeve and with a sad smile, picked up the flower that had reminded her of Charlie to keep it between the pages of her journal.

Just as she was picking up her coat to leave, the door to the greenhouse opened.

Too early for the moon to appear, the light coming from the castle was not strong enough to identify the figure that had just entered, so she approached the table with a quick ‘Lumos’.

“Professor Angelov!”

The secretive transfigurations teacher was startled to hear his name. It was clear he didn’t expect to find anyone there.

“What happened here?” he sounded strangely offended, even though Kate had done in one day the work that should have been done in months.

“I repaired the building. I plan to use it for my classes,” she hesitated to criticise Durmstrang’s teaching system to a professor, but her mouth went ahead of her brain and she wasn’t quick enough to stop it. “as it should have been done.”

Angry eyes shone in the light of her wand.

Kate put aside the reason for Leron’s visit to the greenhouse and focused on deciphering his anger. Even her legilimens skills couldn’t figure out its origin. She could only pick up confusion and... fear?

Angelov did not bother to say another word to her and with a movement of his cloak, which reminded Kate of her former potions teacher, he strode out into the night.

--

The next day, Kate decided to put to good use the new and improved greenhouse and took her students through the grounds of Durmstrang.

“I think you’re going to love this. Well, at least I’m excited.”

She waved her wand to keep all fifteen books in the air as she walked down the path to her students.

There was a lot of grunting and snorting when Kate told them they would not be in the classroom that day, but she was convinced that a little natural light and playing with dirt would change their mood.

“We’re almost there. I know you were bored the other day, and so was I, so...”

Kate stopped in front of the glass building and showed it off with her arm outstretched.

Several students exchanged glances, others stared at her, waiting for instructions.

“Well? What do you think?”

“Are we going to have a class here?” asked one girl.

“Indeed, Dana, we’ll do three hours a week here: one on Wednesday and two on Friday, what do you think?”

“That this place is dangerous.” Said Jon Hopkins.

“Ah, but that’s not true anymore. Come on, let’s go inside.” The sparkle in her eyes went unnoticed by the students who, skeptical of the change of scenery, entered behind her.

Kate surrounded the long central table where she left her books and headed for the end of the room. She waited for everyone to finish looking around and pile in with her.

“Lesson number one: safety. In that cupboard over there there are overalls for everyone, I’ve washed them, of course, so take one all and put it on over your uniform. There are also protective gloves. Take a pair too.”

Michael Angelov went to the table and took out a scroll to write something down. One of his companions looked at his writing and began to laugh.

“Are you going to write down everything she says?” The others laughed with him.

“Who knows, it might be an exam question. I recommend that you do the same. Memory can be treacherous.”

As they reluctantly left their bags and backpacks, the speech continued.

“You are responsible for your new work clothes. We will use potions, spells and dangerous plants, the suit will protect you and it is vital that you wear it. If someone is not wearing the suit, they cannot enter; if someone is not wearing gloves, they cannot enter and I will be very strict about this”.

She indicated that they should sit around the table, each on a stool.

“Lesson number two: know what materials are available. In the drawer in front of your seat there are: a small shovel, tweezers, garden shears, a spray and a brush”.

She left a moment for everyone to rummage through their drawers and continued.

“You are also responsible for the material. Before and after a class everyone should check that they have everything and put them in the drawer. I want you to write down the date and the list of your material.”

Everyone was silent, clearly confused about what they were doing. Kate went around the table, giving some directions and helping those who seemed to need it.

“Lesson number three: know what you are going to do.” As she waved her wand, the books placed on the table flew to each student.

“Today we’ll focus on the first part of Lesson Five: recognising soil types. This was part of the last test, and it’s clear that I didn’t prepare you enough for it. It’s important that you know how to do this because it’s fundamental. Make a note of the purpose of this practical class. I would have liked to do this earlier, but... that’s the way it is.”

As the children opened their books and whispered to each other, Kate handed out a tray with three small pots of different types of soil. Each with a label with a letter: A, B and C.

“Try to identify the three pots with the help of the book.” She said when she finished.

“Ah!” a little girl, Greta Eberhardt exclaimed. “There’s something in my pot!”

“It’s called earth, silly.” Replied her partner.

Kate came over to inspect Greta’s tray. Something bright blue was buried. She took one of the tweezers from the table and pulled it out.

“It’s a billywig. See the wings coming out of its head? Don’t worry; it’s dead.”

Not only did the wings catch the children’s attention but also the long, pointed sting of the torso.

She stared at the insect for a long time and looked up when it became silent in the greenhouse. Such discipline cannot be healthy, she thought, as she saw them reading or sticking their fingers in the pots without looking up.

“How quiet you are... I never said that you cannot work as a team.”

--

That evening Kate sat in her room drowned in pieces of parchment, both her students’ work and her notes from her mission.

She returned her attention to Vivien Argar, the name that was written on top of the paper, and sighed when she noticed that her assignment was two parchments longer than it should have been.

Kate put her quill down and pinched her nose, her thoughts returning to the Order. She considered Kent Jorgensen and wondered what kind of business he had going on with Leron Angelov.

Perhaps she was jumping to conclusions, letting her suspicions cloud the logic, but she could have sworn that they left the Great Hall together when Astrid Rhode was giving her speech. She never confirmed it.

Several taps on a glass caught her attention. 

A red bird was standing outside the window and demanded to enter the room.

“Fawkes?” She hurried to the window and opened it, allowing the phoenix to enter. He circled her and screeched while she closed the window again.

“I know, I know! How demanding…” Kate grabbed a blank piece of parchment off the floor, made a ball with it and set it on fire before conjuring it to be suspended in the air at ground level.

Fawkes cuddled up near it and let out a grateful tweet. 

“What do you have in there?” She said, noticing the roll of paper that Fawkes guarded in his claws. She tried to grab it but Fawkes hid it between his feathers, opened his beak and stayed that way for a while.

Kate rolled her eyes and walked to the closet to look for the small bowl where she kept a roll of spellotape and some quill tips.

She emptied it and conjured some water before bringing it to an impatient Fawkes. He lowered his head in a small reverence and extended his open claw for Kate to inspect.

“Always want something in return, huh? It is true that pets are like their masters…” Fawkes huffed and sipped from his water, ignoring her.

She unrolled the tube to find two pieces of parchment. The first one had a short sentence.

 Trust him in the woods.

 “Great. I didn’t have enough with what I had.” she complained out loud.

She unrolled the second paper, but to her disappointment it was blank.

She left the parchments on the bed and sat down at her desk again, trying to resume her work, but Fawkes got up and flew to her shoulder. He bit a strand of her hair and tugged.

“I don’t have anything for you to eat, Fawkes.” The phoenix ignored her comment and kept on pulling at her hair until she turned around. 

“Alright, that’s quite enough!” Fawkes flew to the bed and stood on the blank parchment, tapping it several times with his beak.

Kate took a deep breath before approaching the bird.

She grabbed her wand and pointed at the paper before murmuring ‘Revelio’.

 A black line started to appear, drawing an uneven path that rounded the parchment and ended in the same spot that started. A cross appeared in the upper corner of the deformed oval. It wasn’t a circle or any geometrical figure; it looked like…

“A map.” she whispered. The question was, a map of what? The figure consisted in a single contorted line. There was nothing inside of it, just a cross. She turned around again and winced at the sight of her desk. With a flick of the wrist, all the pieces of parchment of the table flew around to settle down in tidy piles on one side of the desk.

She let herself fall backwards onto the bed and stared at the ceiling.

With only one candle flickering in the room, the darkened atmosphere made her want to close her eyes, and she did, letting her exhaustion take over her.

--

[Part 11]

Tag List: @eldritchscreech @meteora-fc @cazreadsstuff

[artificialqueens]

Stupid For You, Chapter 5 (Crygi, Jankie, Jaida x Nicky) - Metaluna

Summary: In which everyone makes mistakes, and have to face consequences. 

A/N: Hey everyone! This does have a tw of domestic abuse.

The rest of the month went by smoothly for Jaida. She got to be team lead for most of her shifts, much to the jealousy of her coworkers. She didn’t care. She knew she was damn good at her job, and paid her dues for the past few years. It was what she deserved. Part of her was sad knowing it was her last summer at the park, but the idea of law school was much more exciting than telling guests that they had to put shoes on all summer.

She and Nicky continued their fling. It was some of the best sex Jaida had ever had. Jaida could feel herself developing feelings for Nicky, but rather than address them, she just ignored them. They’d go away on their own right?

She woke up at noon. Because there weren’t many leads in Sales, she worked six days a week, and it was her first day off in twelve days. She deserved to sleep in. Her phone buzzed. It was Nicky texting the groupchat.

Heyy ladies, I’m off today. Does anyone want to play in the park today?

This was her shot. Even though she and Nicky spent a lot of time together, they didn’t ever get the chance to just talk. Even after they hooked up, Nicky usually left pretty soon after, always having a reason to not hang out after.

First day off in 12. I’m down.

Nicky texted back quickly. See you at 2.

Jaida peered into her closet, and suddenly, she hated every single article of clothing that she owned. After rifling through shirts, and trying on different outfit combinations, she eventually settled on a cropped black tank top and army green shorts. 

Out of all of her coworkers, Jaida lived the furthest away. The half hour drive gave Jaida time to think. She knew that she felt differently about Nicky than she did with any of the previous flings. Even though she had her flings, none of them ended in a relationship. When she thought about Nicky, images flashed in her head of dinner dates, picking pumpkins, and curling up on the couch watching a movie. She had to do it. She had to bring Nicky to the Ferris wheel. If they went up together, they could talk it out. 

When Jaida arrived, it was only 1:40. The Landing, where the stores were, was in the front of the park, just off the entrance. She decided that she could harass her coworkers. Before entering Isle Mercantile, she saw Gigi walking with a cart full of beach towels.

“Gigi!” she called.

“Jaida! Hi! I saw you’re hanging with Nicky.” Gigi raised an eyebrow. “What exactly is going on with you?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I really don’t.”

Gigi pushed her cart into a shady corner under the roof. “Here. Come over here. Step into my office.”

Jaida rolled her eyes and sighed. “It’s just so hard. I like her, and obviously she likes me enough to fuck me, but I don’t know that she likes me enough to date me.”

Her phone buzzed. Jackie.

Girl. I saw you were coming into the park with Nicky. Are you going to talk it out?

She decided she could reply later and continued. “It’s so embarrassing but I’ve never had a girlfriend. I don’t know how to have this conversation. I doubt she likes me.”

“If you guys have manage to hook up as many times as you have, I feel like you’ve got something there.”

“Thanks, Gigi. Hey, what’s been up with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You just seem a lot less happy. Are you okay?”

Gigi nodded a little too quickly. “I’m fine! Anyway, Jaida if I don’t stock these towels, Brita’s gonna be pissed!”

Her phone buzzed again. It was Nicky.

I’m here. Meet at the food trucks!

After walking to the trucks, Jaida spotted Nicky at a table. The sunlight was hitting the blonde in just the right spots, making the her look even more beautiful than normal.

Jaida decided to sneak up behind Nicky. “Boo, bitch.”

She jumped, nearly falling out of her chair. “You bitch!”

“Let’s go ride the Jinn. I haven’t done it yet this year.”

While in line, she decided to text Jackie back.

I really want to, but I don’t know what to say, or how to bring it up. All I know that this feels different. This isn’t the same as all the others for the past three years. I can’t describe it. I really, really like Nicky. I want to take the next step, but I don’t know if she does.

As she hit “send” she returned her phone to her pocket, right as Nicky picked hers up.

Jaida knew what she did. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. How could she be so stupid?

“So, that didn’t go to Jackie. Jaida…” Nicky began. “Is this true?”

Jaida was hoping to bring Nicky up in the Ferris wheel. Even though things never fell in her favor, it was a comforting place. The line they were in was a 30 minute wait. They had nothing but time to talk it out. Even though it wasn’t ideal, Jaida nodded. “It is.”

Nicky sighed. “Jaida, I like you, I really do.”

This is exactly how every other girl began when they wanted to cut things off.

“And it’s not you it’s me?” Jaida predicted.

“It’s a cliché, I know. But I have so much going on right now, that I really can’t date anyone, not just you. Jaida, I really do like you. A lot. In other circumstances, we would already be dating, but right now I can’t give you what you want. I understand if you don’t want to keep doing… what we’re doing. I will respect your decision either way.”

“No worries!” Jaida said happily, even though she felt like she was going to cry. “I’m totally fine with what we have.”

“Are you sure?”

“I promise.”

For the fourth year in a row, Jaida felt her heart break. She was left wondering if things were better had she taken Nicky for a ride in the Ferris wheel.

—–

After her shift, Gigi sat at her desk sketching a dress. She felt her phone buzz. 

can you come over

Yea. Everything all good?

no

I’ll be there in ten

Gigi made the ten minute drive in five. Crystal answered the door. Her eyes were red, it was easy to tell that she’d been crying the past few hours. Her hair was disheveled, and she was wearing an oversized sweat shirt. “Come in.”

Wordlessly, Crystal led Gigi into her bedroom. All of her walls were hand painted beautifully, each wall with a different color scheme. Her room was slightly messy, but still somehow organized. A picture of Harry Styles hung above the bed. An easel was in the corner with an abstract painting. The closet door was propped open, exposing Crystal’s brightly colored clothing.

 “Talk to me,” Gigi said said as she and Crystal sat on her bed. 

Crystal started crying as she sat down. “It’s Ryan.”

“What happened?“

“We started talking about me going off to college in a couple months. Usually when we talk about it, he won’t talk about it. Well, I needed answers… and I got them. He told me that if I didn’t stay home, he would break up with me.”

“Oh, Crystal.”

Gigi was pissed. She knew how hard Crystal worked to get into the graphic design program. The school they were to attend in the fall wasn’t easy to get into. It had a 50 percent acceptance rate. Crystal was too talented to let that go to waste. The audacity of that boy to ask her to throw that all away. She wanted to tell Crystal everything she was thinking, but instead, she held Crystal and stroked her hair.

“We’ve been together since we were fifteen. I don’t know how to live without him, you know?”

“Mmm.”

“I just love him so much, I don’t think I can leave him. I think I’m going to withdraw my application from Ferris.”

“Crystal, no. You can’t. You worked your ass off to get into that school. You know you did.”

“I know. But I love him.” Crystal rubbed her eyes, causing her sleeve to roll down, revealing a deep bruise.

Gigi gasped. “Did he do that to you?”

“He didn’t do it on purpose! He said I was being unreasonable, and he was right. He just needs to calm me down sometimes, you know?”

“No, Crystal. I don’t know. That’s not okay, under any circumstance. I don’t care if you cheated on him. That does not give him the right to ever put his hands on you.”

“I’m so stupid. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have even applied to that school in the first place.”

“Absolutely none of this is your fault. Please don’t ever say that it is.”

Crystal sighed. “I think I need to stay here.”

“I think you’re wrong. But, what I do think is that Ryan’s bad for you.”

“How fucking dare you.” Crystal’s voice was harsher than Gigi had ever heard it. “You don’t know him like I do. He’s known me a hell of a lot longer than you have.”

“Crystal…” Gigi felt tears forming.

“No. Don’t start. You don’t understand what all we’ve been through. How could you? You could never understand because you’ve been alone your entire life. You can’t let people in. Even me. You’ve been weird as shit every single day since the party, and won’t tell me why. All you do is shut people out when they’re trying to help you. Me, Jan, Jaida, Jackie… We’ve all tried to ask you what was wrong, because clearly something’s wrong. You don’t let people in, or you get fucking pissy. Why? It’s not our faults that your dad fucking left. Stop taking it out on us.”

Gigi sat completely stunned.

Crystal realized what she had said. “Gigi… I didn’t mean… I’m so sorry. I–”

“I think it’s time for me to go. Find your own ride to work, or walk your ass there. I don’t care. Don’t text me. Don’t fucking talk to me.”

“Gigi, wait!” Crystal called. But it was too late.

–

On the drive home, Gigi felt her chest tighten and knew a panic attack was starting. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to drive, she pulled into a parking lot. All she could think of were Crystal’s words which cut her like a knife. Gigi knew that Crystal wasn’t a cruel person, and that it was all in the heat of the moment, but it didn’t matter. Gigi didn’t even know where the words came from, why out of nowhere Crystal would bring up Gigi’s behavior in that conversation, and she really didn’t know why she brought her dad into it. 

Her phone lit up.

gigi, i am so fucking sorry. idk where that came from. i don’t mean it. i hope you know that. that was fucked for me to say. so fucked. i understand if you don’t want to reply and need your space, but know that I am so fucking sorry, and ill never forgive myself for what i said. i can tell what i said really hurt you, and i understand if you dont want to talk, but just know if you ever do, i’m always here to listen

Gigi started typing.

Yeah, that WAS fucked. That fucking hurt me more than I could say. When I said my dad wasn’t a good person, I meant it. When I had my first girlfriend, I came out to my parents. My dad wanted to throw my ass out, and my mom wouldn’t let him, and said that it if I wasn’t out of the house, he was going to leave. My mom would never throw me out, so now he’s gone. It fucked with me. You wonder why I can’t people let me in? That’s why. I’m fucked up, and you’re right. I do need my space. Leave me alone.

She reread her response, and decided she didn’t owe Crystal an explanation, and deleted every word of the text.

—

Crystal was laying on her bed looking up at the ceiling, which was painted like a galaxy. How could she be that cruel? Her words were volatile. Crystal didn’t know the whole story. Even if she did, it wasn’t right to bring it up, especially not like that.

She had to make it right. She sat on her phone, trying to formulate the perfect apology text. A text felt so impersonal, but Gigi hated talking on the phone, and hated Facetiming. Crystal knew that a text would be the best thing she could do. After rereading her text a few times, she hit Send.

Gigi was typing something. Something long. Crystal anxiously waited for her reply, but the three dots disappeared. Instead, she was left with Read.

The pain Crystal felt was stronger than anything before. It was worse than anytime Ryan laid his hands on her. It was worse than the time he cheated on her. It was worse than anything, and she had no idea how she was going to make it right.

[blizzardfluffykpop]

Move Along

Summary: It’s okay to move on from someone who hurts you or you’re no longer in love with.

Jaehyun X Reader

Warnings: This deals with cheating and divorce.

(Jaehyun is TOXIC and realizes it)

[It ends on a light hearted note]

There’s a lot of song lyrics here if I missed a few just tell me, but here are the ones I can remember. (It was originally based off of Be My Mistake by The 1975).

Be My Mistake and It’s Not Living If It’s Not With You by The 1975, Fvck Somebody by The Wrecks, (Probably Used: Don’t Take The Money by The Bleachers), Peach Scone by Hobo Johnson and The LoveMakers, Therapy and Some Kind of Disaster by All Time Low, and (Partial quote: With a Little Help From My Friends - The Beatles) Title from Move Along by The All-American Rejects

Whether you are in a friendship, a relationship, or a marriage, everyone needs a break. Sometimes even when you’re all by yourself you need a break. When it gets tough, the tough get tougher and the weak get weaker. It seemed like my marriage to Jaehyun was perfect,... Yeah, he still had his duties as a Kpop idol, and I still have my duties at my shop. But we always knew we had each other’s backs through thick and thin. He always comes home around midnight and leaves at noon. Then, he started coming home late, or not coming home at all, and not telling me where he has been the whole time. Not even leaving a text, and when he left for tour later that week. He didn’t say a word to me and left without a word. 

In our twelve years of being together, he’s never pulled something like this. We had been best friends for five years, and he would always have me there when he goes off on tour. When we started dating, we would kiss, hug, and cry together before he left for tour. Five years after we started dating, he asked me to marry him. I said yes, of course, and for the first time since then, he hasn’t spoken a word. If he texts me at all it’s in terse sentences, no emojis, no ‘I love yous’, no nothing. If I was being real, it is breaking me into pieces, but I won’t say anything. Because it seems if I bring it up, he will ignore me.

He’s been on tour for three weeks, and I have yet to hear a word from him. I text him good mornings, are you okay, I hope you have a good day, it’s lonely without you, goodnight. It wasn’t until this afternoon that I figured that something was up. When he asked me if we can take a break, that he can’t take this marriage right now with everything going on. I broke down after I texted him back, ‘sure, that’s fine, I hope whatever is going on goes away soon’. He said ‘thanks’ shortly after, and I couldn’t feel anymore. 

Everything was going well, but it seems what they say about life is true. I never wanted to believe in it, as I kept an optimistic outlook on everything. They say nothing in life is fair, but what if it was? I refuse to let things like that get to me, well, it seems I did. As I lay on my bed suffering, my best friend, my lover, my everything… has given up. All I can say is, it’s fine, don’t worry about it, and not pry at the problems. The only one who seemed to get me since I moved here, maybe I should have stayed in my home country. 

I call my old best friend which I haven’t talked to in years. I was always wondering how they were but, fearful that they would forget about me. But the minute it lets out a ring, it’s a voice I haven’t heard in forever asking, “(Y/n)? Why are you calling me, are you alright?” I muffle my sob into my sleeve, “Not really, but I was wondering if I could come visit you?” They let out a little hum, and tell me to give them a second. “Yeah, when will you be here? Do you need me to come pick you up?” I nod, but I realize they can’t see me. I reply, “Yeah, if you don’t mind, I’ll text you after I order the plane ticket, thanks, Jamie.” 

After saying our farewells, I couldn’t care less how much the ticket was, all I knew was I wanted out of this place. The greens in the room make me nauseous as I continue to look at them while packing my stuff. Barely being able to touch Jaehyun’s clothes without shaking. I stare at the picture of us laughing, standing on the dresser, and put it down on the dresser. By the time he gets back from tour, I’ll still be at my friend’s house. I rip our pictures off the walls as I walk through the house collecting little things to take with me.The last thing I pack is my computer, and put it into its pouch, in a separate bag. I could take my car to the airport, or I could store it in my storage unit, which I decide is a better idea. I don’t want him to know where I am, he doesn’t deserve to know if he wants a break,... I’ll give him a break. I’ll take a break from him too, why does he get to be the only one who gets to have fun, and figure things out. I take a shower, before telling my employees I won’t be here for a few weeks. I tell Jeonghan to run the store like I would, “So into the ground?” He cheekily replied, making me laugh, before I said, “I’ll see you later, Jeonghan.” 

With a deep sigh and some of my frustrations out, I take my car to the storage unit. I kiss the steering wheel, telling little Louie goodbye before calling an Uber. My Uber pulls up, he has four scented trees hanging from his rear view mirror. Along with two beaded necklaces, and a little flower sitting on the dash. He asks me how my day was going, a little white lie couldn’t hurt anyone sometimes. I tell him it’s going okay, and I ask him about his. He tells me a little about himself, and I tell him little tidbits about me. He drops me off at the airport and tells me to have a safe trip. I tell him to have a good day at work he grins as I pay him the fare.

I forgot how bustling this place can be, the atmosphere feels nice. I get my bag checked, go through the scanner and wait for my flight. I look at my phone, and scrolling through twitter, and seeing propaganda from Dispatch. That Jaehyun has a hickey on his neck, he couldn’t have one if I haven’t been with him in a few weeks. They know he’s married to me, so why would they even broadcast that. Maybe I should have realized that is why he wanted a break. But alas, I didn’t put two and two together,... As I sit on the plane, that thought never crossed my mind as I fell asleep. 

Next thing I know, I’m in my home country, waiting for my old best friend to pick me up. I see them, looking around for me with a little sign that says, “Welcome back home, (Y/n)!” I rush over, hugging them as they excitedly tell me, “I can’t wait for you to meet everyone!” My eyes widened a bit, I mean I expected them to eventually get a family, but I didn’t think it was eventually yet. “Oh man, I can’t wait to meet them” The radio bopping out the tunes as we sing along, laughing at each other and reminisce. They unlock their front door, and yell, “I’m home and I brought a guest!” Three screeching kids come running attaching themselves to Jamie. When I look up after I am introduced to Pat, Dani, and Nova. Their three little ones, I notice Mingyu a face I haven’t seen in years. I tell Jamie softly, “You guys married?” they both nod at me. Mingyu had liked Jamie throughout our senior year, made it official on our graduation day. Mingyu comes over and welcomes me with a hug and kisses Jamie’s forehead. “There are children present!” Mingyu cracks back, “Yeah, like you?” I laugh, “You got me there.” The two of them laugh, before introducing me to their dogs, Shelly and Bailey, and their two cats Marco and Polo.  

They show me to the guest room where I’d be staying for a little while. I tell them I’m overly grateful for them letting me stay here, and Jaime pats my head as they tell me it’s no problem. I look around at the rusty orange painted room. The closet filled to the brim with storage, a cute little lamp on a nightstand. A small plant on the windowsill in a frog planter along with crystals arranged on the windowsill. The plush carpet riddled with coffee stains, making it more a brown carpet than a white carpet. Mingyu calls us down for dinner. The kids rushing ahead of me, I laugh as Pat trips both his siblings, I help them up and carry them in as Pat rushes in front of me. I ruffle his hair, “Little troublemaker, they’re going to get you back, you know that, right?”

Jamie sighs, “He tripped the other two-” “Because Dani and Nova pulled my hair!!” Jamie sighs, “I wonder why” we exchange a laugh, as Mingyu lays the plates down. Jamie kisses Mingyu thanking him for the meal, as the kids yell their thanks. “Don’t expect a kiss from me, but thank you very much” The both of them laugh, Mingyu asks, “How’s Jaehyun?” I wince when they bring him up and Jamie grabs my hand rubbing their thumb over my hand, “Oh honey, what happened?” I look towards the kids, “Can we wait?” They nod, understanding what I meant, we finish eating in peace. Nova sneaking her vegetables to Shelly. I shake my head, before showing her the trick of mashing her peas under her plate, then wiping them up with a napkin. Acting like I was wiping my face off on the dirty napkin. Nova giggles and following suit as Mingyu and Jamie chat with themselves. Pat and Dani, surprisingly enjoying their vegetables. After Nova finishes I sneakily throw her napkin away and wash her plate. I grab the rest of their plates, Jamie raises her eyebrows at me, “But you’re our guest-” “It’s the least I can do though, Jamie.” They roll their eyes at me, “Thank you” When no one is looking Nova and I high five, Jamie and Mingyu sending the kids off to bed. Jamie reads them a fairy tale, almost putting me to sleep, man they have a way with words. When Jamie closes the door behind me, I softly declare that Nova is my favorite. Mingyu disagrees saying Pat is the best, while Jamie rolls their eyes, telling us Dani is the best. “So you two do have favorites, I thought parents weren’t supposed to pick favorites.” They shake their heads, "You know we're kidding." I laugh, "Yeah, you did choose to adopt them and all." Before they both exchange a look at each other, “Nova listens to no one,...” Before, they look at me, “No wonder you get two get along,… Don’t teach her any sly moves now.” If only they knew, that I already did. “Wouldn’t dream of it” as we sit down on the couch and I cross my fingers. “You already have, haven’t you?” I shrug, “Maybe, maybe not”

They shake their heads, “Anyway, so what happened?” “Jaehyun asked me for a break, I should understand but, I don’t. Before he asked, he was never home if he was. It was early in the morning and then leave without a word, or not come home at all. Then for the first time in twelve years, he didn’t let me see him off at the airport. It was kind of a tradition--” Mingyu interrupts me, “How has he been texting you?” I pull out my phone, “Here, take a look” handing my phone over to both of them.

I put my hand over my face, not knowing what to feel. Shame? Sadness? Anger? None of the emotions seemed fitting, as they scroll through my texts. Jamie wraps their arms around me, cooing me, and telling me, “Oh honey,...” while Mingyu reads the rest of the texts. “Well, you’re allowed to stay here for as long as you need.” I nod, and thank them, “I’ll probably just stay for a week or two at most, and visit some of my relatives.”

A week later, and when the two of them leave for work. I’m babysitting the kids at the park telling them stories of their parents and me. They seem to like them, they get quiet and listen to me, and then we play little games together. I start to wonder why I never took time to at least adopt a kid, because these three are bundles of joy. I don’t understand parents who don’t see how children are full of life. Sure, when you have a headache, it's bad, but you have to fight through that to enjoy life anyway. Going to the park with them is always fun, which is where we are right now, well, we’re walking back home. Since their parents are home told me I comeback with the kids. I carry the three of them down the street to their house. Pat on my shoulders, Nova and Dani on either side of my hips. 

I arrive home in a wonderful mood, we played hide and go seek and tag all day. Until finally resting on the swings. It was a fun-filled day when we arrive inside, they both run to Jamie and Mingyu. Mingyu picks up Dani and Pat into his arms while Nova clings to Jamie’s legs. Jamie laughs, ruffling Nova’s hair before bending down and kissing Nova’s forehead. And I say, “What am I chopped liver?” Mingyu and Jamie look over at me and laugh as the kids switch parents. I go over to the living room, when I hear Mingyu whisper, “Do not let them turn the channel to news, Jamie-.” Before the next thing I know, Jamie comes over to entertain me, and asks if I could do laundry. I raise my eyebrow, before heading over to the laundry room and with a shrug I do the laundry. I wonder why they don’t want me to watch the news? That’s a lot to unpack, and I’m not up for unpacking any more stuff this week. I finish just as dinner is served until I realize that my phone is not on me. I search for it before I see Pat playing games on it. I should have never told them my passwords because they drain my battery. Pat eats food as he plays with it, that kid is something else. Although I cannot say I’m any different because I do the same. The whole tv whisper slips my mind as I think about Jaehyun, and how much he would love to meet Nova, Pat, Dani. The last time we were here was before they adopted them. I shudder at the thought, it seems no matter where I go he invades my thoughts. I wonder if he thinks the same, or at least I hope he does. 

Pat tugs on my sleeve to tell me my phone died, I sigh, as I finish my food, and put it into my pocket. Mingyu says he has the dishes tonight and Jamie puts on a movie on the TV. I throw my phone on my charger in my room. Pat sits on my lap as we all get comfy on the big couch. All of them are my favorite not just Nova, and Mingyu and Jamie feel the same way about their kids, they just like to joke. I can’t believe I’m a godparent to all three of them, and this is the first time I’ve met them. I feel so bad, I should have been here to see them grow up. I know Jamie and Mingyu got them when they were babies. Although they were originally planning on getting teenagers. The facility they went to had no teenagers, and all the kids were adopted, but the three new arrivals were babies. The two of them signed up for these three and went through the process. I didn’t get to see them as they grow up as much as I should have, as a godparent should. Have I just been ignoring everything but my life, have I become so selfish? Or am I just putting myself down because of Jaehyun? 

Pat falls asleep on me, becoming dead weight, causing my legs to fall asleep, I start to feel tired as well. I get up with Pat and gesture I’m going to tuck both of us into our beds and sleep. Pat’s a sound sleeper luckily, as I tuck him in and wish him sweet dreams before tucking myself into my bed. I wake up in the middle of the night to check my phone. I see an article about Jaehyun and decide to read it tomorrow morning, I’m scoff and roll over falling back to sleep. 

When I wake up again, it’s to the bright sunshine, because I forgot to close my curtains. I grumble about it, before opening my phone and looking at the news article. “Is Jaehyun Cheating on (Y/n)?” Just because we take a break doesn’t mean you have to go nut Dispatch. But go off I guess... I decided to read it nonetheless, and I can’t look away as it reveals more and more evidence. The stupidest one being we haven’t seen them together in months, well no really? He’s on tour what do you expect, not that we’re on a break or anything. After reading that first evidence, I just trash the article. Before I go to Korea Times if there is a real scandal they would have an article on it. My heart breaks as I read “What’s Up with Jung Jaehyun?” 

It reads, “It seems that the world tour is not the only thing Jaehyun is busy with.” I continue to read; “Usually you can find his lover in the second row three seats in, for the second concert. We also see them exchange a hug and kiss before he takes off before the concert. Could they be taking a break? Or is it more than that?” It’s a picture of him with a woman, who I can’t seem to place. It’s probably a new manager,... until I scroll to the next picture and my heart shatters. It seems like they were trying to hide from the public eye as they kiss behind a tree. 

That’s not-That can’t be-This isn’t happening-No, not to me. Please tell me my eyes deceive me and this is just a person faking to be Jaehyun for some publicity. Like that photo of Justin Bieber eating a burrito on a bench,... right? Wondering if that is Jaehyun kissing that woman. It is... as I keep scrolling seeing more and more pictures of the two. I chucked my phone into a stuffed animal, not being able to bear it anymore. I change into some running clothes, to burn off these frustrations and inner turmoils. I go downstairs to tell Jamie since it’s their day off that I’m going for a run and I’ll see them in an hour. They tell me to be safe and I promise I will, but at that moment it feels like a big fat lie. 

The jeans he was wearing I put cute little heart patches on the knees. I used to tease him about how his knees always get cold. I made him a solution, that settled that it was Jaehyun in those pictures. I sprint faster, my tears flying off my face at this point. The audacity that man has, I look down at my left hand to still see our wedding ring still on my hand. I take it off and put it into my pocket, it seems he still owns my heart enough for me to not get rid of him completely. Maybe someday soon, I guess we’re history, and I can’t help but collapse to my knees in the forest I grew up wandering in.

I hum a tune to a song I used to know, “Distract my brain from the terrible news.” I say as I find an old pedestal covered in moss to sit on.

--

Jaehyun's POV

Staring at the patches that (Y/n) put into my blue jeans, makes me want to cry. I should have never started seeing her. Soo-hye looks over at me and tells me she likes my jeans. What I think is a mumble, “She patched these jeans that you like” she looks at me shrugging and cuddles into my side. It seems like none of the guys can look me in the eyes anymore because of this woman curled up next to me. I don’t blame them, I can barely look at myself in the mirror anymore without gagging in disgust. I push Soo-hye away from me, “I don’t wanna hug, I just want to sleep, okay?” She whines about it, and we go at it again and makes me want to just throw myself out the window afterward. 

I curl up to her, my jeans lying somewhere near the door. What made me go this far? Why didn’t I stop? I have (Y/n) at home, I’ve loved them for 12 years is that not enough for me,... I guess it isn’t. 

When I wake up, the morning light it blinds me, reminding me of (Y/n), I should just come clean to (Y/n). It would be better than running around their back right? Soo-hye’s head is tucked into my chest, this could be my real lover. I could be with (Y/n) right now, what is wrong with me. I shake my head smelling Soo-hye’s hair, it smells just like (Y/n)’s feet. It’s kind of weird to say that, but it’s so true. While (Y/n) always smells like buttercream sunsets, sometimes like a rainforest if they went out for a run. The worst smell (Y/n) ever had was on their feet, and I miss it so much. Everything about Soo-hye is just for the physical aspect, I don’t want her emotionally,... I’m using her and I feel bad for it, but it’s not as bad as how I’ve used (Y/n). They’re my everything, and here I am laying with someone I’m not emotionally attached to and having sex with them. 

Johnny, my closest friend, can’t look me in the eyes. It hurts me to my very core, I’ve got to end this. I sigh before my resolve to end it would soon be broken again as she wakes up. Her eyes look beautiful in the morning, but the stars in her eyes are dull compared to the moon’s that shine in (Y/n)’s eyes. 

I know why I started having an affair. (Y/n) was busy running their shop, it was the holiday season and I wanted to do was hold them in my arms at night. My heartfelt incredibly lonely, I had no one to satisfy my urges. Even if (Y/n) was home it was only for a few misley hours. They would be gone the next, I went on tour and they hugged and kissed me farewell. When I came back home it was Valentine’s day. Their shop was busy all week again, it’s good for business but not for our relationship. It was completely selfish for me to take up a relationship with Soo-hye. I should have never done it, I know it was wrong, but I’m so self-absorbed. I know for a fact if I looked at what was right in front of me. Was (Y/n) supporting me every step of my career and as much as I supported theirs, I just started to fall short,...

They’re probably better off without me anyway, I can’t believe this is the man I’ve become. I never thought I would cheat on them. But here I am, my arms wrapped around Soo-hye, she didn’t care that I was married. She told me I was cute and made me feel attractive again when I was beginning to think I was unlovable. Because (Y/n) certainly didn’t love me if they weren’t with me every minute, how fucking toxic I was,... I am. God, (Y/n) should divorce me, I’m not worth the heartache. I gotta figure this out because I’m not the man I used to be, and not the man I ever wanted to be. 

---

That night, my thoughts lead to an argument with Soo-hye, my biggest mistake. I’ve had enough when I blurt out my true feelings, “You know what, fuck you, you do make me hard but (Y/n) makes my knees weak!” Full of anger, I’m so tired of this situation. She raises her chin, “It seemed earlier that I made your knees weak, but whatever you say, Jaehyun. I’ll see you next week and you know it.” 

I fall to my knees as she gathers her clothes and shuts the door. I know she’s right, I know all of my members heard. The hotel rooms have thin walls, it can barely cover up the sounds of my crying into my couch cushion. I want to get better,...

I call my manager up to book me for group therapy when we get off of tour. I never thought I would be the kind of man, I grew up to hate as a kid. My mother raised me so much better... but here I am cheating on my best friend, my lover, my heart, my everything with a girl who doesn’t even matter to me. All that girl does is fuel my physical desires when I’m lonely when I’m tired of feeling. I want to get better, I can’t lead a life I never wanted to live. My fans must be disappointed in me, I can’t imagine how (Y/n) feels. They must be torn, I know the news is everywhere. I had my dream life and I became toxic and let it slip right through my fingers. I ruined my life, (Y/n)’s life and everyone in between. I’m not the man they married, I’m not Jung Jaehyun, I look in the mirror and see the shell of who I once was. I got to get better so I don’t hurt someone else, and I got to end this right. I know they’re anywhere but home. Especially after I told them I wanted a break. I should have just told them the truth. I cheated on perfection, and I’m left in this endless cycle of crying and cursing myself. Why did I have to do that? I could have just said no to Soo-hye’s validation and waited for my lover to come back home. Gotten over myself and lived the life I was living.

I hope once we divorce they can heal. They deserve someone who can treat them like royalty and nothing less than that. I wanna be anything but who I am, moss on a decaying pedestal would be better than who I am.

--

Sitting on the moss-covered pedestal, how am I going to face my friends, my godchildren, my parents, anyone. That’s why I was told not to look at the news, everyone knew and now knows. How did my life get to this point, I thought everything in my life was perfect. I guess when you glaze your eyes over the imperfections, you never notice the flaws. That there were signs our relationship was going downhill. We’ve had our ups and downs but it could not have been that bad,... 

I sigh reminiscing about the forest instead of my dark thoughts. I remember when this pedestal was placed in this forest. Forcing myself into a better mood as I think about this pedestal. I was with my friend Minghao and were walking through the forest to go home when we saw it. Yes, we did take aesthetic photos together that I still have Polaroids of in a photo album. We stood on the pedestal posing and laughing at each other. I can’t believe it’s been that many years for it to be like this. 

I guess over time things that you don’t take care of something it ends up in shambles. Whether it be with moss or unexplainable feelings. If I would have just taken care of the relationship with Jaehyun so it would be as strong as it was when we first married. I can’t claim him as my husband, he’s not the man I married. I’m probably not the same person I was when we married. But we matured a lot, sometimes you gotta hurt before you learn to heal. I still would like to talk to him about it, and finalize it. I’m not going to waste my breath on someone who no longer loves me. If he no longer loves me then I’ll move on. I’ll start over again, and maybe live my forever with someone who I care about. 

--

Therapy is hell, it’s not my friend, but definitely my confinement. Jaehyun and I go to separate group therapy, sometimes I go to one-on-one’s depending on how I feel. It’s been a few months since we’ve divorced. Mingyu and Jamie were behind me every step of the way, my family joining in and helping me deal with the pain. I might miss him sometimes but does not mean I need him to function.

We talk occasionally, but more as people that know everything about you, but nothing at the same time. They know things about you wish you could erase, but they no longer know who you are now. Time heals all wounds, and therapy definitely helps, I’m better now, it tore me up for months. I didn’t dare talk to Jaehyun. It was about six months after the scandal, the reality, the truth came out. Before I was ready to deal with Jung Jaehyun, I moved into a new apartment. Rebuilding myself up from the bottom up, with a little help, a lot of help from my friends. I was me again, or the me I needed to be. 

When I face Jaehyun it was on mutual terms, we agreed to end it after talking everything out. It was a long process of divorce, even though no longer happy with each other. We helped each other through every step of the way, crying on each other’s shoulders for hours. Because we never wanted to be like this. But here we were, and I know we’re happier now that we are no longer together. 

--

It’s been a few years now, Jaehyun and I are still friends but that’s as far as it goes. I’ve found someone who I love with my whole heart, and they love me too. I spend hours on the phone with them, they have kids, and we care for them together. It’s the family I always wanted, Jaehyun has just recently entered the dating world again. I’m very proud of him, we’ve both come such a long way after everything. It’s never too late to start again, and we’ve become the kind of people our 4th grader selves would be proud of. 

My shop is flourishing and Jeonghan runs the building. He is hopelessly in love with a guy who comes into the shop every day. The triplets are 1st graders now, Mingyu and Jamie are still in love, and going strong. Minghao is having kids and Johnny has started his solo career in Chicago and is making bank. We’re all happy, and that’s all of ever wanted to be, yeah it’s taken a long time to get there. I’m happy to be happy again, so if you get to the point where you find someone who loves you like how you love them. Keep them in your life, cherish them, don’t let them slip through your fingers. 

Just because you have been with someone for a long time, whether you lost your virginity with them. Were high school sweethearts, or were just there for each other in the tough times. It does not mean you have to be with them forever. Not all relationships are meant to last, it’s okay to leave someone who you devoted a portion of your life too. Even if what your partner has done is not horribly wrong, you are allowed to walk away. It happens, no matter how long you are with them, you are allowed to leave them. Even if you’re married, you can divorce and move onto someone better. That treats you right, like the royal you are, never accept anything less. This goes for you too, you better treat your significant other like royalty unless they screw you over. Remember three strikes they’re out, and if they mess up royally once, it’s over.

[cat-in-da-wall]

roisa tgp au

ft. rose as eleanor & luisa as chidi

below the cut is a little rose solano/luisa alver in a the good place au!

As Rose’s eyes opened, she took a look around, the strange room earning a sense of unease. A strange man stood by the opened doorway, with a smile.

“Clara Ruvelle?” He asked, voice soft, and yet firm. “Come on in.” Her sense of security heightened, but years of practice ensured it wouldn’t show. However this man knew her name, she was going to find out why, and whether or not she did it the nice way, well, that depended wholly on him.

She stood up anyways, plastering on her signature soft smile, one which had charmed one too many men she had no interest in— but it worked, and that was all that mattered, for he flashed a smile back.

Following him into the room, her eyes flickered from corner to corner, trying to make sense of all of this. Had she been kidnapped? She knew it hadn’t been a good idea to visit a bar at her lowest, nothing good would come of it. She chided herself for once again being an idiot when she had everything at stake. She carefully sat down on the grey-ish chair, carefully watching the man sit down under the false pretense of staring at the plant.

The plant was, however, not interested. But it was all she could focus on, in this boring office room, where everything was yellow, grey or somewhere in between. Not that he was judging his choices, just that, well, the office was bland.

“You, Clara Ruvelle, are dead.” He said, his eyes displaying a sliver of sympathy and perhaps feeling sorry, but she shoved those thoughts aside, as she attempted to process this.

At first, many waves of snickers and scoffs echoed within her mind, believing the man was lying and she had just been kidnapped. It was probably all a mind game, right? She had so much more to do, she couldn’t have just died, could she? But then, the scoffs quieted down, and she realized that, well, it could be very possible she had died.

A hint of panic, just the slightest, passed through her, and her heartbeat got louder, was she really dead? How could she be? What happened? How could she have let herself be so careless? How was she going to run her empire now? She had so much more she wanted to do, so many more empires to corrupt and take over, many more idiots to seduce— but there was nothing she could really do now, except to make the best of the world she was in. Could you run a crime business in the afterlife?

“Cool.” Her voice, cool and calm, echoed, followed by a nod, maybe a small smile, as she fixated on the man in front of her.

A pause, an awkward one, as she took a second of hesitation to think, maybe rid the awkward air between them.

“How did I die?” She asked, her voice a little bit louder than she’d hoped.

“Are you sure you want to know?” He asked, resting his hands on the table between them.

“I’m sure.” 

“Well, you were sleeping in the basement bedroom of one Lily Keller when her mother left the stove on by accident, and the whole house burned down.” A brief moment of silence, again— but this time it wasn’t just her, the man seemed to be thinking as well, or perhaps he was just judging her. Either way, she took the silence as a gift.

“Well.” She probably should’ve asked about the mom, whether or not Mrs. Keller made it out in time, but to be frank, she didn’t quite care, and there was no use pretending to care— she was dead after all.

“We erase traumatic memories of the death for an easy transition into the afterlife.” He explained, sitting back a little as an easy smile surfaced, as if attempting to calm her.

“So, where exactly am I?” She asked, her finger pointing up for a second, then down. She assumed the latter, obviously, I mean, she had killed one too many people by accident, and her business wasn’t exactly cruelty-free in her ways of gaining. 

“Not many people get in, but you, Clara Ruvelle, are in the Good Place.” He said, leaning back in a little, his hands resting on the table, fingers intertwined with one another.

“Wow.” Was all she could manage to say at the moment, a smirk right below the surface. And perhaps following it, panic? Was she supposed to be here? Had somebody made a mistake? After all, textbook sociopath or not, she had done some pretty bad things, put as the man across from her rose, she stood up to her own two feet, flattening out her red dress.

“Come on, Clara, let me show you around.”

The tour around had been pretty boring, if you asked her. She’d probably learned more about the mechanics of the place than where she could go to get food, meet people, or purchase a sweet snack. Nonetheless, it was a nice way to pass the endless time that she’d have to spend in this small town variation of heaven.

They’d been walking for what seemed like a century already, around the town where everybody was arm in arm with someone else, and offering her a friendly smile. To be frank, her facial muscles had never been more tired, even when she had to speak for hours and hours. It was all just so overwhelmingly sunshine-y.

“So, who’s in the Bad Place, that would shock me?” She asked, trying to bring up conversation as her heels clicked against the little paved road in the middle of nowhere.

“Uh, well, Mozart, Picasso, Elvis, basically every artist ever, uh, ever U.S. president except Lincoln.” He replied, hands in his pockets.

“That sounds about right.” She responded. “What about Florence Nightingale?”

“That was close, but, no, she didn’t make it.” He spoke. Her heartbeat started to speed up as he spoke, and she panicked. If even such a woman like that wasn’t here, why on earth was she here? Well, obviously her terrible actions must’ve brought good impacts onto the lives of others, and from her countless terrible actions, she swayed herself into believing so.

A moment of silence hung between them as she searched for the right words that wouldn’t completely destroy her image.

“Wow, all those amazing people, down there, it just seems hard to believe.”

“Again, it’s an incredibly selective system. Most people don’t make it here. But you, a lawyer who got innocent people off death row, you’re special, Clara.”

What? She prayed she’d heard wrong, but there was no doubt what she was hearing. His hands were on her shoulders now, and if she was anybody else, she would’ve crumbled apart under the guise of the lies. But she didn’t.

Instead, she continued to smile, and despite the momentary falter, he bought it.

“And by the way,” He continued, removing his hands from her shoulder. “Welcome to your new home!” The man said, as they approached two houses near the edge of town. Her eyes flickered from the larger house to the tiny house beside it, trying to figure out which one would be more convenient for her to live in, maybe get to know in the span of the endless years she’d have to spend here with whoever this soulmate was.

It was eerily quiet, she was used to the bustling, busy cities and the busier underground networks which she frequented. The houses stood on a grass field, almost what she would’ve called in the middle of nowhere, if they hadn’t just come from the small town right beside it.

The small house was multicoloured, a sort of primary colour scheme, with the exception of the porcelain white that glazed the rooftop, a nice change that made the house look less… kid’s classroom -esque, more actual house.

You see, in the Good Place, every person gets to live in a home that perfectly matches his or her true essence.” He said, gesturing towards the house that was becoming more and more horrific to look at by the moment.

“Cool.” She replied. “So, I guess that’s why my house, for example, is this adorable little cottage, whereas other people have homes that are bigger, like that one.”

And she was referring to the house beside hers, a large house, which looked as if it could fit the smaller house inside at least seventeen times. Pearly silver swirls surrounded the rice coloured marble walls, the translucent glass panes showing but the tiniest corners of the house, alluring but not exposing— a large fountain in the front to top it off, as if being the fanciest house in the area wasn’t enough.

“Exactly. Oh, I’m so happy you get it.” He replied, grinning.

As she entered, she prayed that the inside was nothing like its horrendous outside. She almost jumped, hands balling into fists as she struggled to understand why anybody on earth would live in such a house.

The walls were decorated in clown paintings, and there was an obvious lack of stairs. But, though it was small, the little sections inside it acted like there was more to explore, and for her, it was enough. It wasn’t like she’d ever want to live in a mansion, especially not the huge one next door where, if she lived it in, she feared the skeletons in her closet would lay behind every door.

“As you can see,” He continued, leading her inside. “The interior has been decorated just as you like it, in the Icelandic primitive style.” A second of silence, before he continued to speak, yet again. “Oh, oh, and uh, of course, you love clowns, so…”

Well, at least that explained the odd, horrible, paintings, she thought.

“I do love clowns.” She replied, a light chuckle following.

“Now,” He said, turning her attention towards the opposite area of the house. “Let me show you the video system here.”

She looked at the giant board in front of her, with her name in the centre and branches with countless green words on the end of them, signifying good deeds.

“You can review everything that happened in your life from your point of view.”

He tapped on one of the green words, and a video-style footage popped up, as she watched, curious.

“This is your Human Rights mission to the Ukraine.” He said, gesturing at the shaky footage. “I mean, you got a ton of points for that one. It really put you over the top.”

She didn’t sweat, ever, except during sex. But, if she could, she would’ve been. This was not what she predicted the afterlife would be like, at all. She continued to watch the footage, with a smile, as he placed his hand on her shoulder.

“Luisa, come on in.” He said, as a stranger with the most gorgeous chocolate brown locks and the sweetest hazelnut honey eyes, with storms behind them, entered, dressed in a flannel blouse and trousers.

“Clara?” The girl who she presumed was Luisa, spoke. “I’m Luisa Alver, and you are my soulmate.”

The man in the suit clapped, with a grin. As if he was the one that set up a tinder match that just succeeded, or got his end of the pay on a drug deal.

“Cool!” She said, not sure how to address the gorgeous woman she’d just met— especially as the sparks flew between them and she struggled to keep her cool.

Alas, she went in for a hug, as the stranger’s arms around hers felt like home, the honey almond shampoo scent rich in her hair as it lapped around the nook of her neck, and they hugged like they were making up for all the lost time that could’ve been theirs.

“Now, excuse me, I have other people to attend to.” The man in the suit exited the house quietly, as they continued to embrace.

He left, shutting the door behind him, as the two sat down on the little beige couch-bench seating.

“So, Luisa, where are you from?” She asked, looking into her soulmate’s eyes with the mask of excitedness.

“I was born in a nice hospital, one my father probably paid for, but we moved many times, but eventually settled down in Miami as a doctor.” She grinned, as if excited she finally had someone to talk to. “What about you?”

Quick, she panicked, as she knew she couldn’t tell this lovely stranger about the whole crime lord in the making thing.

“Uh, well, I was born in Stowe, Vermont. And then I lived there for as long as I can remember.” She said, nervously watching her soulmate. Had she messed up already? She started to panic, feeling nervous in a way she hadn’t been for a long, long time, until those brown eyes smiled back at her, the only response she needed.

Her cold hands were taken into the warm ones of the woman across her, as they gazed into each other’s eyes.

“Clara, I’ve spent so much of my life alone, hoping to share moments with someone. And now, I finally have someone to share them with, as soul mates. It’s overwhelming.” Luisa beamed, the puppy dog smile making her swallow, as she realized she couldn’t lie any longer.

“Luisa. You’ll stand by my side no matter what, right?” She asked, keeping her hands firmly in her soul mate’s.

“Of course.” Her soul mate responded, looking a little confused.

“Promise me.” She said. Luisa looked like the type that would keep spoken promises, no matter what, right? “Say, ‘I promise I will never betray you for any reason.’”

Luisa put her hand on her chest, as if making a genuine and solemn swear, as if they were nine again. “Clara, I swear, that I will never say or do anything to cause you any harm.”

“Good.” Clara responded, a smile emerging on her face. Partly because she finally had someone she didn’t have to lie to, but also someone who already swore they’d never hurt her “Because those aren’t my memories. I wasn’t a lawyer,” She continued, shaking her head. “I never went to the Ukraine. I hate clowns.”

She took a moment of silence, or perhaps it was hesitation. “There’s been a big mistake. I’m not supposed to be here.” She puts her best ‘surprise!’ face, jazz hands and all.

The silence hung between them as Luisa’s face went through a bajillion different expressions, from gaping mouth to perpetually confused eyebrows.

Then she spoke with that soft, sweet, voice of hers. “Wait, what?”

[dancing-the-hellfire-rumba]

Dear Hannah,

Pairing: technically Destiel, but that’s not what this is about Word Count: 4.9k (wow wtf) Warnings: mentions of self-harm, cancer, shitty father John (as per usual), angst and angst and father-daughter love and angst. Summary: When Dean, strapped to a bed, coughing up a storm, catches sight of his newly-adopted baby girl, he decides that, if he is to leave this world, he has to leave something behind for his favorite person. So he writes a booklet, trying to tell her all the things he would’ve if he was alive. Author’s note: This was originally done for @welldonebeca​ ‘s 2019 Song Challenge but I fucked up thinking the deadline was the 31st of October instead of the 15th. Whatever the case, my prompt was movement, by Hozier, which I interpreted as Dean being fascinated by his daughter enough that he’s inspired to write a letter book to her. Of course this wouldn’t be the entire thing, but I had to keep it under wraps.

Feedback is always welcome! No beta, all mistakes are my own.

~~~~

Hannah,

Christ, it’s the third time I’m starting this. The truth is, I’m coming up with blanks as to how to actually start. This has got to be the best I’ve got.

I’ll tell you the moral of this story, my story,  from the get-go. Life’s a fucking bitch, okay? I want you to know that from now. I’d try to hold back on my swearing, but I want you to know me as the person I am, the person I’ve always been. I know what having an absent, terrible father’s like, as you’ll soon see, and I don’t want that for you. I wish I could tell you all this up close, give you advice, tell you all my crazy-ass stories as the dumbass of the teenager I was, and all the shenanigans your uncle (wow, Sam really is a friggin’ uncle!), by a campfire, while you drink your first beer.

Sadly, my odds aren’t looking so great, honey. So this is all I got. I know it’ll never be enough but something is better than nothing.

Enough with the chick flick introduction, though. Let’s start.

The pen’s heavy in his hand, and it’s equal parts the mental heaviness, the weight of the task, as it is his fatigue. Dean’s really just started this. He can’t believe it. The heaviness of uncertainty, of whether or not he’ll get enough time to finish it settles on his chest like an anvil. There’s a solid chance he doesn’t make it before his time comes.

Hannah’s sitting right there, carelessly looking at the plastic, grinning stars above her crib. She’s so innocent, skin creamy, chocolaty and bright, a young, fearsome woman that’s gonna turn out to be so incredible, he’s certain. A small baby who’s soon to walk.

Dean already knows, this kid is destined for great things.

She’s gonna grow up, past the tutus and the miniature racing-car collections, she’s gonna have a movie she’ll play on repeat for ever and ever, with a song that he’ll learn by heart after having heard it so many times. She’s gonna go to high school and she’ll be bullied but she’ll learn to kick some serious ass. She’ll develop interests, she’ll have mediocre grades but a fiery passion and a love for anything alive.

She’ll, then, go to college. She’ll fall in love, with people and life itself. She’ll do what she loves most and she’ll be so damn good at it, she’ll excel.

And Dean… Dean will be nowhere near her to see all of it.

The bitterness… it makes his eyebrows stitch together, his lip curl in clear frustration and sadness. After everything he’s been through, finally finding the person he loves most and creating a full-ass apple pie life, and it’s all gonna be gone as soon as it started. Because, as he told his favorite Hannah, life’s a fucking bitch, and there’s no denying it.

As he lays there in his bed, pale as a sheet, watching her giggle for a while, reaching for the stars, soon yawning, small eyelids shutting softly and rocking just slightly, he… he falls in love with her. This tiny, tiny happy-beyond-words creature that could ask anything of him, and he’d do it, god damn it. He really would.

A giant bubble grows in his chest, a bubble that makes him feel like he’ll protect her at absolute all costs. He’ll grab the moon and fucking move it if that’s what she needs. And all she has to do is yawn and fall asleep.

A tear appears in the corner of his eye, lingering and falling down his ashy cheek. He can’t believe he brought this bright ray of sunshine to this world, and he’s about to make her live with an absent father. That he won’t get any memories with her at all. It’s torture. All of it.

He doesn’t know what else to do, so he grabs his pen with more determination. If he’s to leave her with something, it’ll be a part of him and that is that.

~~~~~

I was born on January 24th, 1979, the first son of a, dare I say, colossally unlucky family. Your uncle, Sam, my brother, is four years younger and will ALWAYS be a wimp, don’t let the height fool you. He always had terrible, shaggy hair and was always the sharpest tool in the box. Hell, the boy went to freaking LAW SCHOOL of all places! That’s kinda crazy!

My parents, your grandparents, were Mary and John.

Mary was a sweet, incredible, fearsome blonde woman, kindest of them all. She’d cut the crusts off my toast, sing Hey, Jude to me before bed and tell me angels were watching over me. (While we’re on the topic of the Beatles, make a note to listen to them. “Hey, Jude” must be your first song, but beyond the classics [Let it Be, Hard Day’s Night, I Saw Her Standing There, I Wanna Hold your hand etc] I hope “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds” will hold a special spot in your heart, much like me.)

So, Mary. Sweet Mary. She was a real badass, you know. This one time, Sammy was hungry, so I decided to make, get this, French fries. I think I was seven. She caught me getting ready to pour oil in a very hot pan. When I say she swooped in, I mean it, quite literally. I think she saved me a hand that day.

Now, about John…You’ll have to forgive the mess that I’m about to make with this, but John was a fucking sorry excuse of a father, alright? He got piss-drunk every night after Mom died, and naturally, Sam and I were the punching bags, sometimes literally. The best nights were the ones he wasn’t home.

For years, the house was silent. Sam and I tried to keep everything clean, stock up on canned food, because at times we would only have ten bucks to hold us for over two weeks. I took him to school, fed him, made sure he studied –not that I really had to- and kept John of his hair. At sixteen I picked up a shift at Bobby Singer’s garage, a man that, at this point, deserves the Dad title significantly more than John.

Whenever Sammy was sick, it was my fault. Was anyone loud? Dean’s fault. House dirty? Dean’s fault. Did we wake him up? …Let’s just say we learned not to do that.

I tried to put myself before Sam, did anything I could to protect him. There were times when that wasn’t even enough.

I dropped out of high school at seventeen. The second I saved up enough money, I rented a hole of an apartment at the other side of town, in an attempt to help Sam have a normal life, and we hauled ass out of there.

Before I tell you about our shitty apartment, let me tell you about the highlights of my high school career. Starting off with me “unintentionally” kicking a ball at my least favorite teacher’s face (and hitting him) ((Don’t take your father’s example, kid, violence isn’t the answer.)) (Did feel pretty good at the time though), making out with Jenny in the Janitor’s closet and with Arthur at the locker rooms afterhours (I don’t know what age you’re reading this at, but I sure hope it’s over 16). Also, that one time I pulled a prank at my friend, Cole. I spray painted his entire locker. He didn’t like me very much, to be honest…

~~~~~

An important story I feel inclined to share with you, would be the fact that I was once a bully.

Kids are just mean, but also, I couldn’t understand that troubles at home, traumatic pasts and anger are not to be taken out on other people who are not at fault. Instead of finding a healthy way to deal with everything that was happening at home, I decided that every happy person that was weak enough to meddle with, didn’t deserve any happiness.

I picked on a couple of people, but I think the one I will always regret will be Kevin Tran.

Kevin was a freshman when I was in junior year. He was in the Math club, the Science club and the Robotics club. He had maybe two friends, he was skinny, short, shy as hell, he drowned himself in oversized clothes and always carried a neon green book bag around, that worked on me like red cloth to a bull.

Every time I spotted the bag in the hallway, the drill would start. Shoving the poor kid against the locker, calling him names and laughing at his face for no apparent reason. I’d steal his calculators when I found out he had chemistry tests, spray paint the door of his locker and cause rib bruises from my shoving him against walls and furniture.

I soon find out Kevin was severely depressed. In fact, I saw him in the back of the school, where I’d usually go out to smoke because I thought it was cool (it’s not, it makes you light headed, unfocused and struggle to breathe. Just an all-around terrible experience, but this is just a side-note.)

It was a Friday after school. I didn’t wanna go straight home and Sam still had one more period, so I decided to go smoke and listen to some music in the back of the school building. And that’s where I found him.

I don’t know into how much detail I should go here, but Kevin was harming himself. With a small pocket knife, he sat on an old basket and made incisions on his arms, tears running down his face like a faucet. My God, Hannah, I’ve never felt like a bigger piece of shit in my life, because I knew, and I knew very well, that at least part of those incisions were caused by me.

I called out to him, and the look on his face, as he scrambled away from me, made me feel so much worse. I was the scum of the earth at that moment. I was the biggest asshole on the planet.

My initial reaction, I’ll admit, was pretty harsh. I grabbed the pocket knife out of his hands and threw it as far as possible in the grass. I grabbed a small first aid kit I had in my bag (in case anything happens to Sam), made him sit down by force and bandaged him up. He’d been reduced to sniffles by the time I was done.

Somewhere in between, I remember, he asked me why I was doing this. I didn’t answer.

Eventually, when I was done, I sat on the ground in front of him, ripping blades of grass from the ground. I apologized. Something along the lines of “I didn’t know, not that that’s an excuse. What I’m going through is not an excuse, but I hope it makes you understand that it was nothing to do with you. I’ll stop. I’m sorry. Don’t do this to yourself, man.”

That evening, Kevin was one of the very first people who found out about John. His own dad had passed away, and things at home were rough with his mom. That, along with the whole depression thing… it wasn’t a good combo.

After a solid two hours of talking with him, making amends, apologizing profusely and getting my apology accepted (which I absolutely didn’t deserve by the way,) we made it back out front.

From then on, I stopped picking on anyone. Kevin and I actually became really good friends, though we drifted apart eventually. I think he works in Google now.

This is really important. I want you to pay attention and take heed of my words. There are a couple lessons in this story.

One, be kind. Always  be kind. To everyone. It doesn’t matter if they’re going through a rough time or not, the same way it didn’t matter that Kevin’s father was dead. You don’t know the other person. There’s never a reason to not be kind, if the person has done nothing to you. A smile can make somebody’s day, a compliment can go a long way, and being open and honest and kind will make people who are looking for help find you, it will make other’s lives better, and if you’ve helped even a single person, your life has been successful.

Two, never, and I mean never take your emotional pain out on yourself, or others. There are healthy ways to deal with ugly emotions. There are people who can help. Find a new hobby, as silly as it sounds. Start doing something creative, something that draws your attention elsewhere, like art of any kind, or, in my case, fixing cars. Something to keep you busy. If you’re in trouble, emotional or otherwise, there are people who love and support you, who will do their mightiest to be by your side, and if those aren’t your friends, they’re definitely your family.

Bottling up emotions, or dealing with them in horrible, unhealthy ways has been my go-to. Don’t be like me. Express yourself in different ways, and don’t keep your feelings shoved under the carpet, because it will, absolutely, unceremoniously explode, and you’ll take people down with you. And that’s when you’ll feel like the worst person in the world. The guilt, the residue of said ugly feelings isn’t worth it. Trust me.

If you make mistakes, if you hurt people who don’t deserve it, learn from it, grow, be better. Do not sink into yourself , don’t hate yourself. Apologize, make amends and move on, try to never do the same thing. It’s okay. We’re all human. The only thing that matters is that you try to be better.

No matter what, remember that I will always love you.              

~~~~

So. Our apartment back in Kansas was, as I told you, a real dump. It had a tiny-ass kitchen with a miniature stove, two mattresses that were creaky and lumpy and were left there by the previous owners, as well as the TINIEST bathroom you’ve ever seen. It didn’t have shower walls, it had a shower head and a drain on the floor and was not in any way separated from the toilet. The walls of the place were peeling, the floor was tiled and cracked in a bunch of places and the humidity must’ve been over 80%.

I fucking loved that place.

On our third day there, I borrowed some spray paints from Cole, carried them in a cardboard box up the claustrophobic, green stairs, and opened the door in absolute triumph. That day, Sam and I opened the two windows, scratched the paint off the walls with two spatulas and went WILD. It must’ve been the only day Sam didn’t study.

Actually, no, now that I think about it, there was another time, when little ol’ ten-year-old Sam fell off a ledge and freakin’ broke his arm. I dumped him on Cole’s bike and pedaled to the hospital like a maniac. That was the first day he didn’t study.

Anyways, that apartment wall made our crappy little living situation a home. Our own sanctuary. We finally got agency over our lives, from staying up late, to choosing which type of dish soap we’d use because it smelled better and didn’t remind us of the terror chores once were. Eventually, we got soft blankets, books, board games, decorations… Finally, after 18 years, we’d started our lives.

I think one of my favorite memories would be coming home from my first date with a guy. I was just 18 and Benny, the dude, kissed me before I left, his fists clutching at my flannel. I was driving home with a giant, dopey-ass smile, stretching from one ear straight to the other. That same night, with new-found confidence, I told Sammy to drop his book, bought ourselves some beers and snacks, and drove to my favorite clearing.

There, right under the stars, with Sammy trying out his first beer, I told him I’m bisexual, and the cute bastard hugged me and told me he loved me no matter what. That same night, he thanked me for everything I did for him while living with John. We talked until the sun was rising.

I’ll tell you this right now, kid, in case you haven’t gotten it yet. I love Sam. Love him to bits. I raised that kid all on my own and will do anything to protect him. I know he cares for me, I know it kills him to see me like this, in a bed, pale, miserable and coughing every three seconds. I just want you to know, honey, that whatever you need, anything at all that, for some reason, you don’t want to tell Dad, you go to Sam, okay? You can trust him to be supportive, loyal, to be there for you when no one else is and to love you like you’re his own daughter and best friend. I promise you, he will always, always be there when I’m not.

That night made us grow so much closer. The lesson here, I’d say, is be bold and confident in what you believe in and who you are. Be your own, unique self, be brave, and love whoever you choose to fully and with your whole heart, without shame, ever. If you are yourself, I promise, you’ll find the people that love you for you, not the person you’re pretending to be. You’ll inspire other to be themselves.

A good example of this would be my best friend, Charlie. When I came out, I was armed to the teeth to deal with whoever wanted to bully me for that part of me. To tell you the truth, my school coming out was a mishap. It takes nothing but a risky make-out session in the janitor’s closet and nosey students that rip doors open far too violently. Nevertheless, I was literally out of the closet, fists up. And that’s exactly when I met Charlie.

With her comic book stories and her books, her bubbly personality and bright smile, she wiggled her way into our lives and permanently stayed there. She was a freshman when I was a senior, but she seemed to find sanctuary by my side, as I did by hers. She was just one of those people who clicked, you know? Far too mature and interesting for her age, with an obsession with computers, even back when they were barely even a thing.

She now lives with her long-term girlfriend, Gilda, who owns the best bakery in the state. Ask for the apple pie, you will not be disappointed.

Charlie demanded of me to tell you, first off, to watch Marvel and screw DC right to hell (with which I have to agree, though Batman still remains one of the coolest Superheroes of my childhood (and Joker, the coolest villain)). She also told me that, if you read this, go ask her for her comics, She’d love to let you borrow them and she’s certain you’ll love them. Second off, she asked of me to tell you the Impala story…

It’s not as grand as she makes it out to be, honestly. However this is the part where you’ll learn all about the one and only Bobby Singer.

Bobby was my boss, an old friend of dad’s John’s and the first person who ever saw the bruises under my sleeves. He gave me a job, a family, and later on… a car.

Bobby owns a scrapyard. He taught me everything I know about cars, including driving, and for my seventeenth birthday, he brought a dusty, beat-up car in my workspace. The hood was bent, the seats were torn, and the engine needed immediate replacing. The customer never paid the price for the compartments the garage had paid, so under store policy, the car was ours.

Hannah, I can’t exactly describe to you how long it took me to repair that car. Buying the spare parts and assembling them would’ve probably taken less time. I built her from the ground up, it took me almost a month and a half of daily, eight-to-six work, but I made it. I fixed her up. She was in prime condition, and I had completely fallen in love with her.

I finished working on her early January, dreading the moment I would see her drive away. Bobby had seen all the effort, by then I’d worked at his place for over a year. So, on the day of my birthday, I opened my locker to put on my jumpsuit, when I saw a box placed on my neatly folded clothes. I’m sure you’ve guessed it by now. Yes. It was the keys to my dream car. A beautiful, sleek, black 1967 Chevrolet Impala, the one I had brought back to life. And it was all mine.

I don’t think I’ve hugged Bobby any tighter since then. Hell, I don’t think I’ve hugged him period.

That car… That car is probably the most stable thing in my life, apart from Sam, obviously. I’ve cried in that car, I’ve escaped from my terrible past, I’ve laughed, I’ve had my first time, I’ve been through breakups and I’ve spent my best days with it. I cherish it more than any other item I know. It’s not even an item, it’s my baby. I love it almost as much as I love you.

I met your dad, and kissed him for the first time in that car.

It’s actually a pretty fucking hilarious story. Cas was on a date with this guy who was completely disgusting and creepy as hell, so in true  movie fashion he decided to, get this, jump out the bathroom window and escape.

Yeah.

So just as he was running out of the bar, the guy must’ve caught wind of him or something, because he stepped outside in order to find Cas. What did your dad decide to do, I hear you ask? He ducked behind a car in the parking lot, opened the first unlocked door he found, and jumped in.

Spoiler alert. It was my car.

I was sitting in the front seat, fighting with Sam through text when the door opened. It was highly comical, watching this guy duck behind the bench seat, mumbling “oh God, oh God, oh God, please don’t see me, oh God.” I cleared my throat.

“Oh, I see you, buddy.” That’s the first thing I told him. The look on his face and the genuine yelp, made me laugh a full belly laugh, and completely forget about my fight with Sam. He apologized profusely, explained panicked what had happened and begged me to stay in my car just for a couple minutes so the guy can lose him.

Long story short, we ended up going out ourselves. I don’t know how to explain it… we just clicked immediately. Like, there was a connection. Him and his big words, his baby blue eyes, his steady, deep and rough voice… I knew right away that all I wanted was to spend time with him, learn everything he was willing to share with me.

I’m so glad to have met your Dad. He was, is and always will be one of the best, kindest, most humble and genuine people on the planet. He sees the world from such a beautiful point of view that contradicts my eternal realism (he enjoys calling me pessimistic.) He’s a genuinely great person, and I can’t wait for you to figure so out yourself, if you haven’t already.

Of course, it wasn’t all fine and dandy. Meeting his parents was hellish. Let’s just say, Chuck and Naomi aren’t… the best people. They tried really, really hard to stop us from seeing each other, and eventually, they completely disowned Cas. He doesn’t like to talk about them much. His brother, Gabriel is an asshole, but a loveable one, while his other brother, Michael, you probably don’t know about. And you shouldn’t. Let’s just leave it at that. If Cas wants to share that story with you, he’ll do it at his own time.

I’m sure there’s a lesson to be learned here. Something about, when finding your person, to keep them, fight for them, don’t stop loving them because everyone else is telling you (unless of course that person is toxic). But I don’t think I can give you solid love advice through a dumb book. Every relationship is different, and your Dad’s better at this than me anyways.

--

I don’t know exactly how long this thing is, by this point, but I’ve almost finished the pages of this booklet. I was really, really worried I wouldn’t finish it in time, but here we are. However many thousand words later, and I’m clueless as to how to wrap this up.

My life isn’t over yet, however it looks like it soon will be. I will confess to you, I’m scared, but most of all I’m angry. I’m angry at the world, at life and fate, if that’s even a thing, at God even. I’ve fought my whole life for peace and quiet, and right when I have found it, it’s being ripped from under my feet. Cancer fucking sucks.

No matter, my chin is up, and so are my fists. Winchesters don’t give up easy. I will fight this until my last breath, even if the chance of watching you grow up and being able to tell you everything I’ve written face-to-face, is nothing but a sliver. After all, impossible odds were always my favorite.

Sweetheart… I don’t know what to say. This might be the only thing you have left of me for the rest of your life, and it tears me up inside. Of course, I will not be able to write thirty five years of experience in a small book such as this, but this is a part of me, memories you can keep all to yourself. Ask Dad or Sam about any of it, I’m sure they’ll fill some gaps, tell you things I haven’t written.

I don’t want you to cry much, even though I’m not sure you will at all, given the fact that you’ve never met me. Either way, whether you feel or think anything of me or not, I want you to know that I love you so much. I’ve only known you for a couple of months, and, already, you’re the brightest ray of sunshine in my life.

I promise I will be by your side no matter what happens, through every milestone and hardship, I will love you from wherever I am.

Honey, please stay true to yourself. Never give up, no matter what curveballs life throws at you. There’s always reason to keep going, even if you can’t see it. Always keep fighting, ‘till your last breath, ‘cause you’re a Winchester and you’ve absolutely got this.

If there is something I want you to remember from the scribbly mess I’ve made, it’s this:

I love you. I’m proud of you. I believe in you.

Go get ‘em, tiger.

 Bonus:

Tears streaming down velvety soft cheeks, dainty fingers gripping the book tightly, like her life depends on it, Hannah stares at the ceiling and groans at the mess she is. It’s the second time she read that last bit, and just as she thought she’d gotten over it, here she is, crying just as hard as the first.

She gets off her bed, pulling on her sweater sleeves. Feet in slippers, she makes her way down the corridor, knocking on the door, and opening when she gets an answer. Her fingers grip the doorknob, the other clutching the book, and she stares at the bed, watching as green eyes look up from his laptop.

“Why did you give this to me, you ass, you’re not dead,” she sobs, and Dean pushes his laptop to the side, arms opening wide to invite her in them.

“Aw honey,” he coos, a gentle, loving smile on his face. Hannah climbs on the bed and slides to his side, curling up in his arms. “It’s okay.” Fingers stroking her hair gently, as sobs wrack through the poor girl’s body. Dean almost feels bad.

Just then, Cas appears in the doorway, having heard Hannah’s cries. He sees the booklet clutched in her arms, her face buried in Dean’s neck, hidden behind her spring-curly hair. He makes eye contact with his husband, a knowing half-smile on his lips, as he leans on the doorway.

“I love you,” Hannah says, nose stuffed and running. “Thank you for not giving up on a relationship with me, even when you didn’t think you’ll survive.” Tears wet Dean’s eyes, as he presses a kiss on the crown of her head.

“I love you too.”

[heyyyharry]

Stardust

(from Couple in Flat 102)

…in which they say “I do!”

(I just realized they didn’t actually say I do in this, but just pretend that the chapter summary makes sense lmao)

Warning: EXTREME FLUFF and plenty of mistakes because I was too lazy to proofread.  

**idea for title and Y/N's vow: @iwannaholdyoutight- ** 

wattpad link

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“I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe I’m getting married.”

Letting out a soft laugh, Layla came to stand right behind her best friend in front of the full-length mirror. Now with her wedding dress on, Y/N looked like the prettiest princess from a story book, and the thought made Layla smile as they locked eyes in the mirror. Even if Y/N hadn’t repeatedly mentioned how nervous she was, her ragged breathing would already have given herself away.

“I thought you said you’d been ready for this day your whole life?” Layla chuckled, crossing her arms as she watched a beam grow on the bride’s face.

“Well.” Y/N sucked in a breath. “It was easier to imagine.”

Layla nodded slightly and stepped forward to wrap her arms around the maid-of-honor’s waist, chin resting on her shoulder as they exchanged nonchalant smiles.

“I’m so happy for you,” said the green-eyed girl. “Knowing that I’ve been here with you guys from the start of it all makes me so emotional.”

Her statement caused Y/N to chuckle.

“Well, you kind of hated me at the beginning.”

“Oh yeah.” Layla laughed, rolling her eyes. “Your hideous outfits got on my nerves, no offence.”

“Aunt Y/N!”

The high-pitched voice got both girls to turn to the entrance when the little girl burst into the room and rushed towards the bride, hugging her tightly. 

“Eleanor!” Y/N bent down to hold the child by the arms. “Hi, my love. Look at you in your tiny dress! Oh my god, you look like a little princess!”

“Thank you, aunt Y/N. You look like a princess too!” 

“El, do not disturb your aunt!”

Y/N looked up to find her sister standing at the door. As Maisie marched forward to grab the little girl, Y/N pulled Eleanor close to her chest . “It’s okay, Maisie. I’m almost done.”

“Well, you should already be done right now.” 

“It’s still pretty earl—”

“Fuck!”

“Layla!” Y/N stood up fast and turned to her best friend. “Don’t say that in front of El!”

“But your skirt!” 

Layla quickly grabbed Y/N by the shoulders and dragged her to the mirror so she could see the big problem for herself. Two red handprints stood out on the white fabric and could be seen from miles away let alone up close. Y/N tugged on the skirt of her dress in shock, for a second completely speechless and freaked out by the reflection in the mirror. 

“Eleanor!” Maisie shouted, forcing her daughter to show both of her hands. “Oh god, were you just messing with those paint buckets in the lobby?!”

“No, no, sis, it’s fine! Don’t yell at her!”

“Fine?!” Layla cried out. “You’ve got red handprints on your ass! How the fuck is this fine?!”

“Who got what on her ass now?!”

“Jesus...” Y/N cursed under her breath when her mother burst into the room and slammed the door shut, and her facial expression was completely expected. Margaret’s eyes grew wide the moment she spotted the handprints on the back of Y/N’s dress in the mirror. From that look on the woman’s face, everyone nearly thought she might even pass out.

“Maisie! On your sister’s big day, really?!”

“I’m sorry, I —”

“Just because you didn’t get a decent wedding, doesn’t mean you can just let your daughter ruin Y/N’s big day like this!”

“No, I didn’t mean to!”

“ENOUGH!” Layla’s scream caused everyone to hold their tongues immediately to look at her. With both hands on her hips, she glared at the mother, then Maisie, and her best friend too. “Instead of shouting and blaming each other, can we focus on how to take care of the not so little problem on Y/N’s ass?”

“I don’t think we can do anything about it.” Maisie sighed.

“We can splash white paint on it!”

Everyone looked at the little girl who seemed so proud of her idea. But instead of pinching her forehead like her mother or mumbling curse words like Layla, Y/N only burst out laughing.

“Are you insane? How can you still laugh at a moment like this?” Layla narrowed her eyes at the girl who was trying her best to hold it in.

“It’s no big deal, really,” Y/N said. “I’m sure I can still walk down the aisle with red handprints on my ass.”

"Jesus Christ...” The mother muttered under her breath and hurriedly left the room before she couldn’t keep her patience anymore. Then Maisie followed as well, pulling Eleanor along so the little one couldn’t cause any more problems. 

Now left alone with Y/N, Layla could finally raise her voice, “for once! I just want you to look perfect for once, Y/N!"

Y/N only giggled and hugged her friend tight. “Doesn’t matter.” She shook her head. “I already feel perfect.”

“But you loved this dress...”

“I love Harry more,” said the bride as she pulled away. “I don’t care about my look. Don’t you worry about me.”

Layla opened her mouth to argue just in time there was a knock on the door and Olivia stepped in, carrying the maid of honor gown. Without thinking twice, Layla marched towards the girl to take the dress for Y/N.

“Here, put this on. It’s gonna be a bit uncomfortable around the waist but I think you’ll manage.”

“But...What are you gonna wear?”

“You’ve seen my closet, bitch. You honestly think I don’t have a plan B to Z?” said Layla as she turned to glare at Olivia. “Blondie, come tell Niall to bring me the backless satin dress. Just say that, he’ll know which one.”

“You called me ‘blondie’?”

“And?” The maid-of-honor scoffed, lifting one eyebrow. “Would you prefer the other nickname?”

“No.” Olivia shook her head fast, a bit surprised because that was the very first time Layla had ever smiled at her. To be honest, it made her quite happy as well; and so she nodded fast and hurried out of the room to go inform the best man about the little situation. 

Meanwhile, Layla turned back to her best friend and gripped her shoulders, lips pressed together hard. With a deep breath, she declared, “let’s make you perfect again.”

.

.

.

“Niall, what are you doing?”

“Helping!”

Harry reached up to touch the bowtie, but his best friend quickly slapped his hand away in an instant. Eyebrows furrowed, Niall tugged on the piece of fabric way too hard, making Harry tilt his head down and their foreheads bumped into each other.

“Oh my god, have you never done this before?!”

“No! Have you ever seen me wear a tie?” Niall scoffed, shaking his head, eyes fixed on the work as he mumbled, “but I swear to god it looked so easy on that youtube tutorial…”

“That’s it.” Harry huffed, raising his chin as he shouted loudly so his family waiting outside could hear him. “Gemma! Help! Mum! Anyone?”

It took Gemma less than a second to burst in as if she knew they were gonna need her at one point. She pushed Niall away and took his place, glaring at both of the men.

“Jesus Christ! You babies cannot do anything on your own!”

“Don’t call me a baby, Gem. I’m the one getting married.”

The older sister exchanged amusing glances with Niall while shaking her head in response to Harry’s slop-sided grin.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” she said. “Y/N is gonna baby you anyway.”

“Ha! You’re right. I won’t ever have to grow up.”

He giggled like a little boy when Gemma pulled away and rested both hands on her hips. As she gazed at him from head to toes, Harry opened his arms and spun around, smiling widely.

“How do I look, guys?”

“Not as good as me at my senior prom but I guess this will do,” Niall teased, causing Harry to pick up the sock on the floor and toss it at him as both dissolved into laughter. Gemma could only watch them in silence while pinching her own forehead.

All of a sudden, the door to the changing room flew open and Anne rushed in, without saying a word first, she just walked straight to her son and pulled him into a tight hug.

“Oh, my sweet baby looks so good!” She gushed, cupping his face and kissing his cheek like he was five, making Gemma toss her head back and groan.

“Mum, he’s 24 years old!”

“Oh darling, he can be fifty and he’s still my little baby.”

“I think you’re just mad because you’re not the favorite child.” Harry stuck out his tongue, making his sister scoff.

“At least, I’m the smart child?”

“Doesn’t matter who’s smarter. I get married first, I kind of win.”

“Who even made that rule?!”

“Ahhhh, the Styles and Niall all together again, a happy family,” Niall interrupted the siblings as he walked over and grabbed Gemma by the hand, pulling her in to join the other two for a group hug. They rocked back and forth for a couple seconds then Harry began to laugh and tried to wiggle out of those tight arms locked around his torso.

“You guys are gonna mess up my look. I need space,” he said, dusting off his clothes, making everyone laugh.

“Mum and I are gonna go check on the girls, okay? Please don’t burn this place down.”

Niall screwed up his face as he heard Gemma. “How are we gonna burn th—“

“You always find a way. That’s what scares me.” The woman rolled her eyes and took her mother’s hand so they could both walk out together. But as soon as she reached the door, her litte brother spoke up fast, calling out her name.

“What?” She quickly turned around, raising an eyebrow at a beaming Harry.

“How does my baby look?” He asked.

Laughing, she replied, “so beautiful that you’re gonna start sobbing at the altar.”

That was all it took for Harry to start grinning from ear to ear. His heart was pounding and he had only imagined his bride in his head. How was he gonna stand on his own two feet when he actually watched her walk down the aisle? Of course she had always been the most beautiful princess to him, but today she was gonna be his queen. 

But no matter how overjoyed he was, Harry couldn’t help but feel nervous somehow. His hands were shaking and he couldn’t sit at one spot for over a minute. Now he was pacing back and forth in his dressing room, trying to remember his vow when he heard a knock on the door.

“Haz, it’s Ollie! Can I speak to Niall?”

Harry raised an eyebrow, exchanging looks with his best friend who didn’t know why Olivia wanted to speak to him. But Harry told her to come in anyway. 

Shyly, the girl entered the room and explained the problem to the groom and his best man. As Harry freaked out because he was afraid Y/N might be sad about the dress, Niall, on the other hand, just fell about. He even joked, “I guess we could say little El was caught red handed!”

Harry immediately smacked him on the arm, causing the blue-eyed man to bounce a step backward, groaning in pain.

“If you think that one hurts, wait until Layla punches you for not bringing her the dress on time.”

“Jesus, you’re right.” Niall quickly grabbed his car key on the table and fled right out of the room. Less than a second later, he poked his head in and told Olivia to stay and assist Harry if he needed anything. Then he was gone in a heartbeat.

Harry and Olivia exchanged awkward smiles behind the closed door as both came to sit down on the couch in the middle of them room, each at one end to stay as far from each other as possible. With her knees together and both hands resting on them, Olivia stole a glance at the man and noticed the tiny notes he was holding.

“Are you...learning your vow?” She asked softly, releasing a slight laugh to lighten up the mood.

“Yeah. I wrote it myself,” he answered with a proud smile.

“Wow.” She chuckled. “May I see it?”

Nodding his head, Harry handed the notes to Olivia, who quickly read through them all, eyes squinted to make out a few words he’d sloppily written in a hurry.

“This is so beautiful, Haz,” she said at last.

“Yeah?” He chuckled slightly, leaning aside as the dimples dug deeper into his cheeks. 

“Y/N’s gonna cry,” she said, handing the notes back to him. “I know I would.”

“Thanks.” Harry knew nothing else to say so he inhaled deeply and released a shaky breath. The silence that followed was obviously awkward yet more comfortable than talking about the thing they should talk about, like everything that had gone wrong between them over the years. However, Olivia felt like if they wanted to save their friendship, she should take the initiative to say something now that she had her chance.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted, making him freeze in confusion.

“For what?”

“For...what I did.”

“It was a couple years ago.” He chuckled, putting the note down so he could toy with the rings on his fingers to avoid looking into her eyes. “I don’t even think about it anymore.”

“But...I have been treating you like the same boy I used to know, when you’re not that boy anymore,” Olivia replied with a guilty grin. “I ruined our friendship, Haz. You used to be my second family, my real one actually...Now I’ve got none and it’s all my fault.”

“Don’t say that.” He shook his head. With a bit of hesitation, he thought for a few seconds before reaching out to hold her hand which was gripping the hem of her knee-length dress. “I still care about you. I don’t know if that’s the same way you want me to but...”

“No, it’s...it’s enough. As long as you still care about me, I'm happy.” She put her other hand ontop of his, giving it a squeeze as they held their gaze and shared a smile. It took her a moment to continue, “I’m sorry that things happened the way it did and I cannot be your best man like the promise we made years ago.”

“To be fair, when I made that promise I didn’t think I would ever get married,” he said, rolling his eyes as both of them chuckled. “But look at me now.”

“Yeah.” She sighed happily. “Look at you now...”

Without warning, Ben burst into the room, causing the two friends to rise up at the same time and turned to the breathless man standing with one hand on the doorknob.

“It’s time, boys!” He announced with so much excitement, but the grin on his face faded as he looked from side to side. “Wait, where’s Niall?”

“He came home to get Layla’s dress?” Harry said as Olivia fixed his bowtie again for him and both hurried out of the room. 

“What happened to her dress?”

“Long story. Let’s go.”

Ben still lifted an eyebrow but he soon brushed his confusion aside and picked up his pace to catch up with the other two.

“Can I fill in his place?” He elated shouted, making Harry chortle.

“No,” was the answer.

.

.

.

Harry had a dream last night about how his wedding was going to be. He woke up with a bright smile on his face even with the lack of sleep because it was wonderful, truly beautiful. He remembered exactly how he was feeling as he stood at the altar in his dream. The room was full of pink clouds and there was only him standing there and watching his wife walk on the rose petals towards him, a bright smile on her gorgeous face. But even while dreaming, his heart was still beating like a drum and he was shaking with strong emotions.

Now, while standing at the real altar, hands held together as he took a deep breath when the music started to play, his adrenaline tripled and his heart fought to escape from his chest. Because he knew what was happening was real, not just a fantasy anymore. And just a couple seconds more, his beautiful Y/N would walk in and take his breath away.

Harry’s impatience made those seconds felt like hours. His sweaty palms got so uncomfortable that he had to wipe them on his pants when all attention was no longer on him. But no matter how long he really had to wait, that moment did arrive. 

The big entrance finally opened wide, and Harry nearly held his breath. The small room with around thirty guests sank to silence. Harry mentally thanked God that they’d decided to have a small wedding because he didn’t have to be distracted by anything else to focus on his wife only. 

When he locked eyes with her for the first time at their wedding, it almost felt like the whole world disappeared. Now, reality wasn’t so different from the dream he’d had, just him and her and no one else like from the start. He almost forgot the fact that she wasn’t wearing the fancy wedding dress she loved more than anything in the world, and he believed at that point she didn’t really care either. Time seemed to pause and his brain started showing all the flashbacks from their very first met up to that very moment. Harry had been holding back his tears from the second the music started playing, but now his eyes had welled up and it only took him a second to start sniffing into his palm. 

The background song faded out as Y/N took his hand, facing him with tears shimmering in her eyes. He could see his mother blowing her nose in the little handkerchief she always carried around in her purse. Even Layla, whom he’d never seen shed a tear was subtly wiping away the ones running down her cheek as she tried to not let it smudge her mascara.

"Dear friends and family,” the priest began when everyone had settled and the room sank to utter silence. “We are gathered here today to witness and celebrate...”

Harry could barely listen to what the man was saying because right now he only paid attention to his bride. With a Cheshire Cat grin, he mouthed to her "you're beautiful", feeling his own heart flutter when she mouthed back "so are you" with an equally wide smile.

"Psst, Harry...Harry!" Niall slightly tugged on Harry's sleeve to grab his attention, making the couple break their loving eye contact to look at the priest who had one brow raised at the groom.

"Your vow?"

"Oh, shit." Harry quickly covered his mouth as everyone cracked up at his little accident. Blushing, he gave Anne a little wave. "Sorry, mum," he said.

"I'm your favorite child now right?" Gemma whispered to her mother, who could only laugh and urged her son to continue.

Harry held up a finger, asking for a second as he searched in his pockets for the little notes he’d written his vow on. But then he remembered he’d left them all in his dressing room and his eyes nearly popped right out of his head.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N whispered when she saw the look on his face, but her man didn’t have the heart to admit that he was too nervous he couldn’t remember any part of the speech he’d worked so hard on. The anxiety was burning him up just like that time he was waiting for her to come home to finally tell her “I love you” for the first time in person. Taking a deep breath, he reached out to hold one of her hand with both of his and bring it to his chest where his heart was. The voice inside his head told him that to say what he felt, like he was talking to her in private without any witness. The thought had calmed him down quite a bit now.

Eyes locked with hers, Harry cleared his throat and began, “Y/N...you know I’m not good with words so if my vow sucks, please don’t cancel the wedding.” Laughter filled the room, giving Harry more confidence to go on as he gripped her hand tighter and received a reassuring smile in response. 

“We officially met the first time in a coffee shop on campus. From the first few words you said to me, I could tell you didn’t like me very much, and I also thought to myself ‘god help me, am I gonna have to live with this person for the rest of my college years?’”

Y/N rolled her eyes as all the guests laughed again.

“But.” Harry shushed them by raising a finger. “I ended up falling madly in love with that girl whom I used to think was the most annoying girl I’d ever met. Now, she’s the most important woman in my life, right next to my mum.”

Gemma suddenly cleared her throat so Harry had to turn and glare right at her.

“And my sister,” he added, receiving a smirk from Gemma as she waved her hand for him to continue.

“Now,” he continued, smiling widely at the girl he loved. “I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with her.”

Someone in the back said “aww” and Layla immediately shushed the woman so her friend could go on.

“Y/N.” Harry exhaled another smile. “I vow to always be patient in our marriage because you’ve always been patient with me. I know it was frustrating to love someone who had no idea what love was until he loved you. But somehow you never gave up on that boy, even though his foolishness often caused you headache and sometimes even made you cry.” 

Y/N lifted the bouquet in her other hand to cover half of her face but Harry could see her eyes glistened with tears and that was all it took for him to start crying again. But he still had to finish his vow. 

“I know they always said ‘til death do us part’ at weddings, but I don’t want that. If I had a thousand lifetimes, I’d want to fall in love with you again a thousand times, because you’re my soulmate. Baby, I vow to always love you, in this lifetime. And the next. And many after that. All over again. Forever and always.”

As soon as Harry finished his vow, Layla released a sob so loud that got all eyes turned to her. The maid of honor mumbled an apology and looked away so no one could see her cry. Meanwhile, Ben, who was standing right beside Niall, tapped him on the shoulder and whispered, "if I were you I would start writing my vow today." The warning caused the best man to anxiously blow up his cheeks and begin to think about what he was gonna say at his own wedding. Layla would never let him live with a vow second to his best friend's.

The priest told Y/N that it was her turn to speak her vow, and the girl exhaled sharply before wiping away her tears.

“Wow.” She breathed. “I thought it’d be easy to beat you at giving an emotional vow but I guess I’ve underestimated you.” Harry shook his head no as the others chortled at her lovely humor. “Okay, here goes...”

The room turned quiet in an instant so the bride could begin. 

“I...I know I’ve said I love you so many times before and I bet you already know that. But I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned how much I adore you. Harry, you are such an amazing person, a great man who takes care of the ones he loves, who always know what to say and what to do, who’s good at almost everything,...except for when he’s with Niall.”

“It’s true,” Niall said and Harry shot him a glare, making all the guests roar with laughter.

“And you’ve always been there for me, always loved me, and reminded me that I can be amazing and beautiful and great as anyone else.”

“You are, love,” he mumbled to her and all the others sighed and aww’ed at the same time.

“So I think I must be the luckiest girl on the planet to be standing here with you today.” She sniffed, quickly wiping off the tears at the corners of her eyes before her makeup was ruined. The hand that was holding his had never let go. “Forever after, I vow to always be by your side through it all, to never give up on us and support you no matter what, just like what you’ve been doing for us since day one. I vow to love you with all my heart and always be patient with you, always be true to you, always be loyal.” Then she laughed softly. “I know this may sound silly, but I love to think that we’re made from the same stardust, and when we die we’ll go back to being the same star, because I cannot imagine being with anyone else other than you. I will love you always, from one lifetime to the next. You’re my first love. And I cannot wait to make you my forever. "

“That’s my best friend,” Layla said to the lady at the front row who was sobbing just as hard as she was.

“Rings, Niall!” Harry turned to the best man who was too busy clapping his hands just like everyone else to remember his duty. Hurriedly, Niall pulled out the rings from his jacket, sighing in relief that he didn’t drop them and happily handing the couple their rings so they could put them on for each other.

"And now, by the power vested in me, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife. You may now—” Without waiting for him to finish, Harry grabbed Y/N and kissed her hard on the mouth. All the guests rose from their seats to clap their hands and cheered for the newly weds. 

"Family and Friends, I present to you for the first time Mr and Mrs. Styles.”

.

.

.

The wedding reception was meant to be a warm dinner between family and friends, but thanks to Niall's brilliant MC skills, everyone ended up moving all the tables and chairs to the sides so they could get up and dance. Y/N had long forgotten where she'd left her heels, now was dancing on bare feet with Layla the the girls in the middle of the room, meanwhile Harry was held back by the men as they kept offering him drinks knowing he could never say no. The parents could only sit on the sidelines and carry on with their conversations about the couple’s future as if they were the ones to decide how it was gonna be.

In a room full of bliss, Olivia had never felt more alone. So instead of standing in the corner the entire time, she quietly snuck out to the main hall for some fresh air while waiting for the celebration to be over. But as soon as she walked through the door, the girl stopped dead in her tracks when seeing the couple in the main lobby.

In the heat of the fight, Jack and his date didn't pay attention to her. Olivia knew it wasn’t right to watch, still she was too curious to walk away. Of course she didn’t know who the woman was and why she was shouting at Jack. But the guy seemed miserable over there, almost making her step forward to interfere. However, she didn’t have to be his hero. Olivia heard Jack say something like a goodbye and an apology. And the woman, now with tears in her eyes, stormed straight to the main exit, leaving him behind with a massive frown upon his face. 

Olivia was now torn between walking over there to ask if he was alright, and walking away before he spotted her and thought she was being nosy (which wasn’t exactly false). So she stood still, fidgeting for a few seconds when all of a sudden he turned his head, looking at her straight in the eyes. The girl freaked out and attempted to run, but she bumped into a table by accident and got the hem of her skirt stuck in it.

Jack tried not to laugh as he marched towards the damsel in distress and bent down to get her skirt out of the edge of the table, trying to be careful so he wouldn’t damage the fabric.

“Fuck,” she cursed, but soon noticed his reaction and mumbled a quick apology, making him chuckle.

“You love ruining your own dresses, huh?” He teased, leaving a huge grin on the girl’s face.

“Uhm...I didn’t see you at the ceremony.”

“Yeah...I skipped it on purpose.”

“Because of your girlfriend?” 

Her questioned made Jack raise an eyebrow. “I...I don’t know if she was really your girlfriend. I only guessed.”

“She was.” He sighed, lifting his shoulders. “Not anymore. I think you just witnessed our break up.”

“Sorry...”

“It’s okay, Livy.”

Olivia’s face brightened up at the nickname. “Oh you remember my name.”

“Your name is not really hard to remember.” 

Jack’s comment was followed up by a fit of laughter which instantly died down as soon as they made eye contact and turned away from each other.

“Why are you out here?” He asked the girl as the silence had become quite awkward.

“Believe it or not,” she said with a sigh. “I don’t have many friends here.”

“It’s a wedding, Livy, not high school.” Jack chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Come in, I’ll be your friend for the night. Then we’ll dance our sorrow away.”

Olivia didn’t know if this man was joking about being sad or he was just very good at hiding his feelings, but maybe a made-believe happiness would work for her right now.

“Just a warning, I’m a terrible dancer,” she told him, laughing slightly.

With a smile, he said, “great, so am I.”

.

.

.

“Jack!” 

Y/N waved enthusiastically when she saw her boss, who put on a smile and opened his arms so she could go in for a hug. 

That was actually the first proper embrace they’d ever shared, and there was something heart-warming about it, probably because it was different from the time she hugged him as he’d just lost his mother, or the time he held her in the lift as she had a panic attack. It was just a simple hug, which was why it was so special.

“Why weren’t you at the ceremony?!” Her face puckered up as she pulled away, holding his hands. “You missed the best part!”

“Sorry, I was busy.” He smiled, yet she didn’t seem too pleased with his answer.

“You’re always busy.”

The eye-roll she gave him only expanded his grin. 

The other day in the lift when they were alone, he almost got weak and told her he loved her. But now, seeing her this happy and full of life, he was glad he hadn’t got a chance to say it. Some things were best kept to yourself.

Jack changed his mind about attending the wedding ceremony at the last minute because he couldn’t imagine how he was going to witness the girl he loved say “I do” and become someone else’s forever. That was why he got into a fight with Maria on the way to the wedding reception. Maria had asked him to tell her the truth, and he did, so she got mad and left. Despite so, he couldn’t think of a better way they could’ve ended the relationship which had been a fail from the start. 

Even though he’d never actually thought about coming between Y/N and Harry, it didn’t change the fact that he loved her. He was happy for her, yet he would’ve been so broken had he actually listened to her vow. However, the sad truth about life was how you never got to choose whom you were gonna fall in love with, so if love came, you had to accept love, even if it didn’t come to stay. 

Jack now had to accept the fact that he’d fallen in love with someone who was untouchable, and his relationship with Maria had been a mistake. She was just looking for someone to possess, not to love; and he was just looking for someone to help him forget about Y/N. As it turned out, the only way for him to move on was to do let his heart heal on its own and not try to fill the void with something else other than love.

“Wait, where’s the other dress?” Jack asked after pulling away and by the way Y/N kept on giggling, he assumed she was a bit tipsy.

“My niece left two red handprints on my ass.” She laughed, raising her hands to demonstrate the action, cracking him up.

“Well, you still look good in this one.”

“Yeah?” She gave him a smile and twirled around so he could see the motion of the dress. “But honestly I cannot eat because if I do, the zipper might burst. My best friend is super-model skinny.”

Jack didn’t say anything but the smile on his face never faded as he watched her beam grow. Everyone in the room clapped their hands when the upbeat song ended, then all gathered to the middle of the room as Niall announced a slow song for the couples was next.

Y/N looked behind her boss with a confused look as she asked, “where’s Maria?”

“Oh, she couldn’t make it,” he lied, curving his lips into a smile before pointing at Olivia standing by the wall. “But I got myself a new dance partner, don’t worry about me.”

“Oh, good.” Y/N giggled, giving the blonde across the room a little wave as she turned back to Jack. “Also, I’m very happy that you showed up.”

“So am I.” He nodded, holding both of her shoulders firmly. “Congrats, Mrs. Styles.”

“Thank you,” she replied, giving him one last smile as she watched him return to Olivia. Maybe love didn’t have to be a romantic bond between two people. Sometimes, it took form as a bond between two friends, who wanted nothing more than happiness for the other.

You can hear it in the silence, silence You can feel it on the way home, way home

“Wifey!”

Y/N turned around just in time Harry crashed into her arms, squeezing all the air out of his wife with that bear hug. She could guess how much he’d drunk because he couldn’t stop giggling like a little boy, and his happiness was so contagious that she couldn’t help but laugh along. She pulled away a bit to hold his face with both hands. His arms tightened around her waist, keeping her pressed against him so he could whisper into her ear, “dance with me.”

You can see it with the lights out, lights out You are in love, true love

“You finally escaped from the boys, I see.” Her arms came wrapped around his neck to start guiding them to the beat of the song.

“They literally tried to drown me in vodka even after I’d told them I needed to stay sober for you,” he said in annoyance, making her giggle. “If I disappoint you tonight, it’s because I wasted most of my energy on fighting them.”

Morning, his place Burnt toast, Sunday You keep his shirt He keeps his word

“You’ve never disappointed me though.”

“Aww that’s the first lie you’ve told me as my wife.”

She smacked him on the arm as both broke into a fit of laughter.

And for once you let go Of your fears and your ghosts One step, not much But it said enough

Harry looked around the room and spotted in the far corner Y/N’s two friends from high school John and Violet slow dancing together. John held his pregnant wife like she was the most delicate thing in the world and the sight made Harry’s heart flutter. 

“Can’t wait to put a baby inside of you,” he blurted, causing Y/N to guffaw.

“Oh my god, are you gonna replace the word ‘sex’ with ‘putting a baby inside of you’ from now on?”

“No.” He bit back a smile and pinched her side playfully. “I mean, I want to have a baby with you. A little us.”

You kiss on sidewalks You fight and you talk One night he wakes Strange look on his face

“You’ve been desperate for a baby since you found Treasure though.” She rolled her eyes and joked, “I’m starting to think you married me just to get a human baby.”

“Been wanting to marry you since your brother’s wedding actually.”

Pauses, then says "You're my best friend" And you knew what it was He is in love

His confession caused her to pull away a bit so they could lock eyes with one another. She stroked his cheeks tenderly and traced her fingertips across his pink lips. Smiling, she said, “now that you mention, our first dance was at my brother’s wedding.”

“Yeah, and now we’re dancing at our own. Isn’t that great?”

So it goes You two are dancing in a snow globe, round and round And he keeps a picture of you in his office downtown And you understand now why they lost their minds And fought the wars And why I've spent my whole life trying to put it into words

“Did you like my vow?” He asked with a smug look on his face because he already knew the answer, but wanting to hear it from her still.

“Wasn’t it already obvious?” She snorted. “I weeped like a baby in front of you and everyone.”

“The only time I was happy that I made you cry.” Harry sighed, stroking her sides gently. “Hey, baby, I just came up with something I should’ve added to my vow.”

Despite already knowing he was going to say something silly, she still nodded and told him to go on. Then with a funny high-pitched voice, he drunkenly sang, “you’re so sexy, you’re so fine. I’m gonna make you mah wife.”

Y/N tossed her head back as she laughed and cupped his face between her palms. “I’m glad you didn’t put that in your vow. I would’ve returned the ring and walked out immediately.”

“You’re regretting this whole thing aren’t you?” He kissed her cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Y/N flashed a smile and nodded her head quickly to play along with the joke.

“Instead of going back home after this, let’s go get divorced,” she playfully suggested. The pretentious hurt look on his face got her dying on laughter.

“Okay, but hold on, let me hold my wife a bit longer before she leaves me,” said Harry as he kissed her forehead and pulled her in again, mouth at her ear when he whispered, “love you to the moon and back.”

With butterflies going wild in her stomach, she also told him, “I love you too, forever and always, darling.”

You can hear it in the silence, silence You can feel it on the way home, way home You can see it with the lights out, lights out You are in love, true love You are in love