#and harry waves his hands all dismissively “no no! he's feeling better!!”

[lqveharrington]

hii, i would love for you to do ‘the prophecy’ with fred weasley and ravenclaw reader!! thank you so much 💓

The Prophecy | F.W.

summary: fred’s starting to feel insecure in your relationship, and trelawney’s reading doesn’t make it any better.

pairing: fred weasley x ravenclaw!reader

includes: use of Y/N, insecure fred, a lot of overthinking, angst, fluff at the end

a/n: for some reason, this prompt stumped me so bad. so sorry if it’s not up to the usual standards 😭

One, two. One, two, three, four.

You impatiently counted how many times the alarm on Trelawney’s stupid clock would go off until she realized it wasn’t a crystal ball predicting a Hufflepuff's future. All you wanted was class to be over and be in the arms of your loving boyfriend, but they changed the house pairings for electives. Instead of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, it was Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Luckily, you still had all your core classes with Gryffindor.

As you lazily blew on the small braid you gave yourself in your boredom, a crack of lightning struck right outside, causing Trelawney to jerk in surprise with horror etched into her face. It looked like she had just seen the grim itself.

She whipped her head around and looked directly at you, taking your hands in her shaky ones. She read your palm like the lines had magically changed since last class, muttering quietly to herself until cleared your throat in confusion.

“My dear, you will receive ill-advised news by the end of the week.” She whispered and pulled your hand closer to her buggy eyes, furrowing her brows when she saw your life line. “Expect your spirit to be broken and rebuilt by the one you trust the most.”

Your lips kissed you teeth in an unsettling manner. Was this your punishment for not listening to her and sometimes making fun of her? Did she want to make you feel bad about your life choices? Sure you bored out of your mind in class but that didn't mean you wanted a horrid reading.

Your eyes flickered toward the dark sky outside again, watching as the lightening struck louder than the last. Trelawney sighed and patted your hand shut, dismissing everyone with a quiet wave. Everyone looked at her in bewilderment before slowly leaving the tower, murmuring amongst themselves.

Furrowing your brows and flexing your hand, you took your things and hastily made your way down the ladder, narrowly avoiding your face splattering on the stone floor. You always believed in everything factual — Ravenclaw, through and through — and you weren't actually sure why you chose Divination as your elective. The crystal balls and tea leaf readings never seemed credible, always predicting the same things over and over again.

However, the Weasley Twins loved Divination. They often made up their readings and passed with Outstandings. George believed he had a natural aptitude for the class whilst Fred said he had unlocked his inner eye. But what they both heavily believed in was Trelawney's words — which you thought was utter rubbish.

When you had Divination with them in sixth year, she told them that they would encounter a horrible noise, sending someone they love plummeting. That same week, Harry retreived his golden egg from the first task and revealed it to be screeching merpeople in the common room, causing the twins to drop him from their shoulders to cover their ears. From that day onward, they clung onto her every word like it was the sacred truth.

Which it wasn't.

Shaking all thoughts of Divination out of your mind, you made your down to the Great Hall. It was your potions study hall with the rest of the sixth years, and you needed time to decompress after whatever stupid prophecy Trelawney read off you.

You scanned the hall and smiled when you saw the twins, Lee, Alicia, and Angelina already working on their forty-inch essay for potions. Well, the girls were working on their essays. The twins and Lee were playing Exploding Snap — although they weren't very subtle with it.

The look on your face meant nothing but trouble. You shook your head and messed with them, putting your hands on the twins' shoulders and holding back a laugh when you saw them jump and pretend to work on their essays. Lee looked up at you and shook his head in amusement, nudging the two Weasleys to look behind them.

George was the first to turn and rolled his eyes when he saw you, scooting over so you could sit in between him and Fred. He took your bag and put it beside his on the ground, still grumbling under his breath.

"Blimey, Y/N. I thought Snape was going to take points off and give us detention again." George nudged your side with his elbow, ruffling your hair in the process.

"Again? What did you lot do in the few minutes it took for me to get here?" You tease and tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, grabbing your own parchment out with only ten-inches left for your essay.

You quietly worked on your essay while ensuring the mischievous trio stayed on task, every so often glancing up to make sure they were doing anything stupid. As you wrapped up your essay, you looked up to your right and met Fred's eyes. You gave him a soft smile but only earned a half-hearted, tight-lipped nod back.

Parchment crinkled under your hold before you released a breath. You pursed your lips and went back to your essay, forcing back the tears of frustration from spilling out. For the past two weeks, Fred began to grow more and more distant from you. You weren't sure what exactly prompted him to do so, but he wouldn't give you an answer and the rest of your friends... Well, they didn't know if you wanted to know from them.

You felt like you were slowly sinking further away from him and you couldn't do anything. Biting your tongue to stop anymore thoughts, you turned in your essay to Snape and swiftly left the Great Hall with no spare glances toward the Gryffindors.

The states of pity from your friends only made you feel like you were crumbling into forever broken pieces.

You sat with your back against a great oak, throwing another stone into the Black Lake. The ripples echoed and repeated until they settled, the small bubbles diminished.

The rays of the sun hit your eyes, causing you to wince softly. You turned to the side and fully expected Fred to be sitting next to you, a small frown etching its way to your lips when you saw nothing but the Hogwarts castle.

Fred usually came with you whenever you needed to relax, but thinking about the past few weeks only hurt your heart.

As the whispers from the Forbidden forest grew stronger and the sun slowly descended behind the trees, you shut your eyes and leaned your head against the tree. You wished you didn’t have to leave your spot; you were only just beginning to clear your mind.

Frustratedly, you rub your closed eyes with the palms of your hands, freezing when someone spoke from behind you. That someone having an all too familiar voice.

"Love, you're going to irritate your eyes."

Your head whipped around to stare at the boy you fell deeply in love with last year at the Yule Ball. The glare you threw at him could’ve petrified him. "You have no right to call me love after ignoring me for two — almost three — weeks.”

Fred swallowed thickly and sat on a boulder beside you. He knew he was in the wrong for avoiding you for so long without telling you the truth. He believed that it was better for you not to know, but what good was it in the long run?

"I know, I'm sorry." He mumbled and bit his lip, looking down at his tattered shoes rather than meeting your eyes. "It's okay if you never want to see me ever again or choose to hate me, but I avoided you because — " He paused and squeezed his eyes shut. Godric, he was going to sound like such a stupid prick. "Because of a prophecy Trelawney gave me."

Your mouth parted ever so slightly before you threw a small rocks at his legs. Your voice rang out clear and loud, reminding him of his own mother. "Are you kidding me? Frederick Gideon Weasley! You've been avoiding me because of a stupid reading?”

"I'm sorry! But what she said about me made it seem like you needed someone better!" He let your rocks hit him and huffed, frustration bubbling within himself. He took in a breath before looking back over at you. "She told me that the something I love will succeed but only if a great weight of unstableness no longer burdened it."

You crease your brows in confusion and drop the rest of your rocks onto the ground, shaking your head as he clenched and unclenched his fist. "What are you talking about?"

"Love, you're bloody brilliant." Fred met your eyes for the first time in days. All he wanted to do was have you in his arms again and press kisses everywhere he could, but he still owed an explanation to you. "You've passed all your OWLs with flying colors and you've studied so hard for you NEWTs." He buried his face in his hands and sighed. "I'm the burden that will hold you back if you choose to stay with me."

Your initial annoyance and anger melted away at his words, eyes softening at the sight of his dejected state. "Freddie, you're not a burden to me or anyone — “

He let out a laugh that sounded more like a scoff. "I have no money. When you need support, you wouldn't get any from me. I'm not good enough for you."

Five seconds of utter silence took over. The fluttering of the owls delivering mail overhead and the sounds of the curfew bell were the only things that were heard.

Before Fred could even register what was happening, you flung yourself into his arms and rested your head on his. He froze before wrapping his arms around your midsection, burying himself into your chest. He breathed in your scent, body releasing all the tension he had stored inside.

This wasn’t the first time Fred has ever felt insecure about your relationship. There had been other times where he felt like he wasn’t good enough for you, but you were always there to reassure him whenever he voiced them to you. It was horrible to see him act like someone other than his usual self. You loved who he was and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Freddie…” You rub his back gently and feel him melt into you. “I don't need any money. Your words are enough support for me.”

He only nodded in response, missing your touch after days of avoidance. Fred felt your move around so you were sitting beside him, your hands moving to turn his head toward you.

You smiled at him and thumbed his cheeks. "And didn't I tell you not to believe everything Trelawney says? I doubt she was taking about our relationship." You pressed a light kiss to his lips before pulling him into another hug, "I love you, Freddie. Don't ever forget that."

When he didn’t say anything, you pulled away and looked over his features, brows furrowing as you saw his teary eyes.

"Fred —?”

"I love you so much, woman." He murmured before capturing your lips in a mind-searing manner, feeling you smile into the kiss. Fred pulled away for a breath before placing another tender kiss to your lips, thumbing the bottom lip when you pulled away in a daze. "You're my soulmate."

You grin shyly and lean your head on his shoulder, looking up at him. "No more overthinking, okay?" You watched as he nodded at you, his face flushing a deep shade of red when you began to pepper kisses on his neck. Each kiss meaning the same thing.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Fred took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles, chuckling when you got flustered over a simply gesture. "You might make me fall even deeper in love with you."

You hummed and pressed one last kiss to his lips, both of you grinning like idiots in love. "Have I changed the prophecy yet?"

"Hm, you'll have to let me check again." He said softly and gave you one final breathtaking kiss, squeezing your hip. "I think so."

"I love you, Fred Weasley." You sigh happily and kiss his cheek. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[mydearesthrry]

Would you ever write about Harry’s love language being physical touch ? I feel like you would write him so cuteee like him all needy and clingy and wanting to feel her all the time and even biting her because he just gets so consumed by his love for her 🥰

a/n: this was fun. thank u for the request! <3 new universe if u lot like this one?

warnings; nothing, fluff, brieffff suggestive content

“hi starlight,” harry murmured as he threw his keys onto his desk, smiling tiredly at his girlfriend sitting on his bed. “what’re y’doing?”

“studying,” she sighed, “my english midterm is next friday.”

“mm, i see. need any help studying?”

“really?”

harry chuckled, toeing off his shoes and pushing down his jeans down his legs, walking over to his bed. bending down to Y/N’s face level, he placed small kisses on the expanse of her cheeks, up to her cheekbones and down her ear towards her neck, placing his chin on her shoulder. her free hand that wasn’t holding a pen came up to wind into his hair, scratching softly at his scalp.

“you okay?” she mumbled, trying not to break the peaceful atmosphere.

harry hummed, inhaling deeply which led the scent of her body wash through his nose, covering his body in coconut scented chills. “jus’ missed you, s’all. practice was really bad today.”

“wanna talk about it?” she asked, placing butterfly kisses on the side of his head, his face still burrowed in the crook of her neck.

“i’d rather not, if that’s okay. jus’ wanna unwind and have some peace with you.” he admitted, head moving up from its place of solace in her shoulder, pressing another kiss to her lips before patting a hand on her back, silently telling her to move up in her space. the second she did, he slid between the small space that was left between her sitting figure and the headboard, situating himself with his legs splayed around her body.

“lean back, pretty girl,” placing his hands on her shoulders, he softly pulled her back, her head resting just below his head. “okay, what’re we studying?”

“um, just some quick facts about the odyssey, that’s what we have to analyze for the english major course.” she explained, waving her hand dismissively.

harry nodded before placing his chin on the top of her head, his arms wounding around her waist and his hands sneaking under her shirt, scratching softly at the skin of her stomach.

“god h, can you get any closer?” she laughed, not moving from her spot against his front.

“no. i actually need t’be in your skin,” he said sarcastically, although the genuine undertone didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N. “i can’t promise i’ll be much help, but i’ll be here for cuddles and to cheer you on?”

“that’s perfect baby, thank you.” she giggled back, burrowing herself deeper into harry’s hold and getting comfortable against the soft material of his hoodie.

“love you, sweetheart.”

“love you, h.”

——

harry awoke to harsh beams of light assaulting him through his windows, a groan ripping from his throat. reaching out an arm behind him, he was met with cold sheets, making him turn his head in confusion. he was expecting the warmth of his girlfriend, but she was nowhere to be found.

until he heard the shrill sound of her laugh.

a grin covered his face as he ripped off the duvet from on top of him, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed to leave the room.

trudging down the stairs, he pulled his sweatpants up and tied them, just barely covering his fern tattoos. “starlight?”

“good morning sunsh- niall, stop! get away from here!” she scolded, slapping his hand away from the bacon she had bubbling on the stove.

“starlight!” niall whined, all but stomping out of the kitchen. “your girlfriend’s bullying me.”

“definitely not bullying you,” she defended, looking at the back of his head accusingly with a spatula in her hand. “hi baby, how’d you sleep?”

“would’ve been better if y’were in m’bed when i woke up,” harry grumbled, making his way into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around her waist. “hi.”

“hello again,” she grinned, pressing her lips to his chastely. “missed you.”

“was jus’ sleeping,” he murmured against her. “but i missed y’too.”

“what are we doing today?” he asked, moving his head up but leaving his arms wrapped around her.

“uh, i’m not sure,” setting the spatula down, she rested her hands on harry’s arms, running her nails up and down the expanse of his biceps. “i really, really have to study today. i keep putting it off to hang out with you so i haven’t done any since wednesday. its sunday and my test is on friday!”

“okay baby, we can study if y’want. go to the library maybe?” he offered. they had a rule that the library was the one place that they had to study in, which meant no distracting kisses or cuddles. it was the one place harry promised he wouldn’t go on his phone in, and for his girlfriend, that said a lot.

“really?! you hate the library!” she gasped, eyes twinkling in excitement. it was true, he really did.

“really, starlight. if y’need the study time, you’ll get the study time. as long as i can be there with you.” he promised.

“ah! i love you, i love you,” placing small kisses all over his face, harry giggled and turned bright red. “i love you so much!”

“love you too, sweet girl,” he smiled and grabbed her face in his hands. “love y’so much.”

a gleam set itself in y/n’s eyes, twinkling with adoration. “you’re so pretty.”

“oh shut up,” he rolled his eyes, ducking his face into her neck and biting teasingly at the soft skin.

“harry!” she squealed, giggling as she tried to push him away, feeling his teeth pinch at her skin over and over again. “am i a dog toy?”

“mhmm,” harry hummed, placing kisses over the fading bite marks that were left behind. “m’favorite toy.”

“hey! no shagging in the kitchen!”

“fuck off, niall!”

[handledwithgloves]

How Harry Potter Ended Up With Three Dads (wc:2k)

"He's drunk," Remus says, peering through the curtains at the slumped over figure on their front porch, "We can't just leave him out there."

Sirius scowls, waving his hand dismissively, "Oh, you and your... kind heart. Damn you! Let him in then!"

Remus makes no rush to open the door but once he does, he could feel just how cold it is outside. He tucks himself further into the warmth of his bathrobe before stepping out onto the porch.

"Severus?" Remus asks warily, inching closer still to the man, "What are you doing here?"

Severus looks up then. Still the same gaunt, thin, sad face from their school days, if not worse from the drunken aura of the man. He looks as if he hasn't slept in days.

"Are you well enough to talk?" Remus asks, squatting down so he could be eye to eye with the man.

Severus only shivers in response. Remus's eyes grow wide in shock.

"Merlin!" he nearly shouts, "Your lips are blue! Just how long have you been out here? Sirius!"

"What?" Sirius grumbles from the front door, "Did he finally keel over and die?"

"Sirius, help me carry him in. I think he's got hyperthermia," Remus says, taking one of Severus's arms and throwing it over his shoulder.

"Hypothermia, Moony," Sirius smiles, taking Severus's other arm and slinging it over his own shoulders none too gently, "I thought you were supposed to be the word-y one here?"

Severus grunts as Sirius 'accidentally' smacks his head against the door. The two of them haul Severus's body into the house as Sirius shuts the door with his foot.

"Over there," Remus says, nodding his head to the fireplace.

As soon as they got him settled and the fireplace is roaring with life, Remus and Sirius finally catch their breaths. Severus looks less dead now but they still had no idea what to make of him. Sirius was the first to voice his concern.

“What the ever living fu - “ one look from Remus cuts him off before he continues with a scowl, “What is he doing here, Remus? And why is he half dead? Doesn’t the bastard know how to cast a warming charm?”

“I don't know,” Remus looks over to Severus’s sleeping body. He’s sitting up, stock still. “I didn’t even know he knew where we lived. I mean, it’s not a secret but still, I didn’t think he cared.”

“Well, whatever. We can’t keep him here. We have a - “ Sirius mimes cradling something in his arms and then points upwards.

“Yes, you don’t think I know that?” Remus snaps, “As soon as he’s better, I’ll wake him up and have him leave. Problem solved.”

Sirius sighs with attitude as he sits down on their couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table. “Better be soon,” he says testily, “It’s near three in the morning. I’m exhausted.”

Remus sits down beside Sirius. “Oh, you’re exhausted?” Remus scoffs, “You’re not the one - “ he mimes changing diapers but Sirius only frowns in confusion, “The very fact that you don’t know what I’m doing only further proves my point.”

“Whatever,” Sirius says, “When one person in this house wakes up, we all wake up.”

“Better take what little chance we have while we have it,” Remus says, resting his head on the back of the couch and closing his eyes.

When Remus opens his eyes again, he is disoriented; unsure how he got to the living room and why he left the fireplace on. Then he focuses on an empty spot near the fireplace, alarms in his head going off that he’s forgotten something important concerning that specific area. Then there is a sudden thump upstairs and Remus leaps to his feet without hesitance. The baby - Harry!

Remus swings across the stairs skipping steps by two as he rounds the corner of the hallway to Harry’s room. The door was wide open. Remus bursts in to find Severus hovering over Harry’s crib, muttering something. Harry is awake, cooing at him as if he understood what Severus was saying. Remus draws his wand immediately.

“Severus,” Remus calls authoritatively, “Step away from the child.”

Severus tenses at Remus’s voice but he doesn’t comply. His wand is drawn and Remus steels himself to fight as a last resort, not wanting to get Harry between the crossfires. Remus opens his mouth again to speak, to lower the tension in the room, when suddenly a spell zooms past his head. Before he knows it, Harry is in Severus’s arms.

“Petrificus Totalus!” Remus shouts just as Severus darts across the room, missing him by inches.

Severus flings open another door to the room and dashes past him before he could utter another spell. Damn! Why did they have to put Harry in a room with so many doors?

“Sirius!” Remus shouts in panic, “Sirius! He has Harry!”

He chases after Severus, always just barely missing him as he darts around corners of his house, jumping through doors, and gliding through hallways. He can hear Sirius’s heavy footsteps running around somewhere, trying to find a way to corner Severus. And then he hears it; Sirius’s footsteps getting closer, louder, and faster.

“Sirius! Don’t!”

Sirius seems to understand a millisecond before colliding with Severus and Harry, barreling instead towards an unsuspecting door and crashing through it.

“What part of ‘he has Harry’ did you not understand?” Remus shouts behind his back as he passes Sirius.

“The part where you bloody let him in the house!” he hears Sirius shouting back.

He’d lost sight of Severus now, finally slowing down to a stop as he tries to listen to any doors being open or, potentially, any windows being smashed so he could escape with Harry. Sirius pats his shoulder, panting just a bit, but not from running, from anger.

“Why does he know the layout of our house?” Sirius shouts incredulously.

“Severus has always been very… complicated,” Remus replies evenly.

“Complicated. Oh, be nicer would you?” Sirius spits, “He’s mad. He’s mad and he’s got Harry!”

“Sirius,” Remus tries to calm him, “He’s still in the house. I think he was doing something to Harry, talking to him or something, before I found him.”

“Talk - talking?” Sirius waves his hands up in exasperation, “Jesus, Remus! He could’ve been cursing Harry for all we know!”

Just then, the most wonderful sound could be heard from downstairs; Harry’s laughing. Sirius moves first, shoving past Remus to get to the stairs. It takes a while for Remus to recover. He had done this. He was the one who brought Severus inside. He believed Severus wasn’t so bad and for a moment, he doubted himself but hearing Harry laugh reignited that belief.

By the time he got to the downstairs hallway, Sirius was already there, banging hard on the bathroom door and trying his best to peer in through the frosted glass. Remus had no idea why the previous owners of this house would want their guest bathroom to have a frosted glass but he’s so glad that they did because he could see the blobs of Severus Snape and Harry sitting on the floor of the bathroom, safe and unharmed.

“When I get you Snivellus, you’re going to wish you were sent to Azkaban with all the other filthy Death Eaters! D’you hear me?” Sirius shouts, jiggling the handles again just to try to scare Severus, “Worse than death! I’ll tear you to pieces if you touch a hair on that boy’s head!”

Remus was still looking in next to Sirius when a thought had come to mind and he was never happier that Sirius was far too angry to think straight. He walks back down the hall and turns a corner to the kitchen, down another hall. Then, quickly, before the door could shut, he barges into the bathroom where Severus slams the door shut with a spell. But he was too late, Remus was already inside, thanking the previous owner for their love of rooms with multiple doors.

Severus is sitting on the bathroom floor with Harry in his lap, facing him. He’s bent over Harry, muttering again, as the infant plays with his hair. He’s crying, Remus notes from the sniffling he hears coming from the man.

“Remus!” Sirius shouts excitedly from behind the bathroom door, “Remus do something! He’s molesting the baby!”

“Shut up, Sirius!” Remus shouts, fists clenching his wand at his side. Jokes like that shouldn’t be made so lightly. Remus takes a breath, trying now to sound as gentle as he could, “Severus, you can’t cry on Harry.”

“You don’t even love him.”

Remus sighs with a roll of his eyes. “And you do?” he tucks his wand away, noticing that Severus’s wand had rolled towards the far wall.

“Listen, he can say my name. Go on, say it,” he prods at Harry.

“Oh, for Godric’s sake, Severus!” Remus flings his arms frustratedly, “He’s not a talking doll! You can’t just poke him and make him say your name!”

“You tell him, Remus! Get that sniveling drowned bastard away from my godson!”

“Sirius! For the love of - Shut up!” Remus shouts.

Severus is mumbling again and this time Remus really is a bit worried he’s putting a curse on Harry but as he nears, he hears him much more clearly.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You’re Lily’s precious boy, aren’t you? Will you ever forgive me? I’m so very sorry,” Severus chatters like a mantra into Harry’s face.

“Severus,” Remus gently places his hand on the other man’s shoulder, “Severus, give me the boy. It’s his bedtime.”

Severus sniffles. “I came to apologize,” he says, “I - I never got to - to Lily.”

“I understand,” Remus sighs, crouching down and placing his other hand gently to Severus’s forearm, “but he doesn’t. If you really want to apologize to him properly, do it sober and when he’s understood everything.”

Severus sniffles again, giving a slow nod before he leans back onto the bathtub behind him. Gently, carefully, Remus takes Harry from his arms. Harry seems unharmed, thankfully. He’s smiling brightly up at Remus, generally happy. He lets himself relax, standing up and towards the door, opening it to a stressed Sirius.

“You got him?” Sirius says, peering down at Harry who’s yawning now.

“This whole ordeal must have tired him out,” Remus says with a laugh.

“Yeah,” Sirius rolls his eyes, “He’s the tired one. I swear tonight just shaved ten years off my lifespan. What happened in there? I couldn’t hear a thing.”

“We just had a chat,” Remus replies, moving past Sirius and heading up the stairs.

“You mean he’s still in there?” Sirius’s temper flared.

“Leave him be,” Remus gives him a glare, “He’s fallen asleep against the bathtub.”

“Remus,” Sirius starts, “You can’t be serious?”

“He just wanted to apologize to Harry,” Remus says calmly, “I’ve already talked him down from it.”

“We can’t let him stay!” Sirius says desperately.

“You’re welcome to stay up and watch him all night Sirius,” Remus smirks, “Merlin knows you have some sort of wild fascination with him, but Harry and I will be off to bed. Won’t we, Harry?”

Harry gives another, large yawn as his eyes droop lower and lower. Remus smiles. Not even two years on his earth and he’s already a handful of trouble, Remus sighs, placing Harry in his crib. Sirius indignantly complains about Severus’s stay and that Remus thinks he has some ‘wild fascination’ with Snape all the while they make their way to their room.

The next morning, Remus and Sirius are down in the kitchen, with Harry sitting in his feeding chair, when Severus appears with a hand to his head and seemingly looking like he’s going through the worst hangover ever experienced by man. Remus hands him a potion.

“Drink it,” Remus says, “It’ll help with the hangover.”

Sirius grunts, “Brewed it myself, Snivellus, so you better not have any complaints.”

Severus gives Sirius a sneer as he takes the bottle without question and gulps it down. He grimaces for a moment, the taste surely not the best so early in the morning. Then, he looks like his usual, depressing self.

“Compliments where compliments are owed, Black,” Severus says, placing the potion on the counter, “Though I would add just a touch more - “

“That’s enough out of you, Snape,” Sirius scowls, aiming the spatula he was using to stir their scrambled eggs at Severus, “I brewed it perfectly and you know it. You just want to be an arse.”

“Severus,” Remus steps forward, “Do you remember anything that transpired here last night?”

“I do not recall,” Severus says smoothly, looking away as a light blush flushes his cheeks.

So he did remember everything. Which means he remembers the conversation they had in the bathroom about Harry. Remus smiles. That was good. If not for Severus, then for Harry, when he’s ready to learn everything that happened that night with his parents. Speaking of - 

Harry makes a loud indignant shout, upset that he’s being kept out of the conversation. Remus watches as Severus slowly inches towards him with a face of slight disgust or discomfort. Sirius rushes forward as well, thrusting the spatula into Remus’s hands.

“Snivellus, if you even think about kidnapping that boy again - “

“Please, Black. It was hardly a kidnapping if I remained in your house,” Severus says lazily before turning back to Harry, “Pathetic little thing. Isn’t it overweight?”

“Babies look like that, Severus,” Remus says over his shoulder as he plates the scrambled eggs next to he bacon.

Sirius scoffs, hovering over Harry and pinching his cheeks, “Just because your baby pictures have you looking like a drowned cat doesn’t mean our cute little Harry is the same.”

Harry slams his fists down on the table at that, babbling to Sirius.

“Oh, Harry didn’t like that jibe towards Severus, Sirius,” Remus chuckles, “Best to apologize.”

Just then, Harry does the most amazing thing. “Sebuh,” Harry says.

Severus takes a step back, hand flying to his mouth as Sirius peers closer at Harry’s face.

“Sebus,” Harry says again, laughing and making grabbing motions towards Severus.

It was Sirius’s turn to back away in awe then, clutching his chest in shock and disbelief. Severus on the other hand was inching towards Harry again. His hand reaches out and he lets Harry grab at his fingers. Ever so quietly, they could hear sniffling coming from Severus again.

“Oh, come now, Snivellus,” Sirius rolls his eyes.

“I want to be a part of his life.”

“What?” Sirius shouts as Remus says, “Okay.”

[sodamnradd]

Draco’s chest radiates yellow when he’s with Theo, green in Harry’s vicinity, grey most every other time, and red when he looks at her. At first, Hermione isn’t certain what the colours represent. She follows Harry around with a notebook and asks him how he’s feeling now when he’s orange (hungry), and now gold (exuberant), and now as he turns pink (none of your business, Hermione) and she watches him trail off after Ginny into the locker rooms. But what could red possibly mean?

Does Draco still hate her? Could red mean anger? But the Slytherin Quidditch team turned shadowy black after they lost against Gryffindor and she was certain that was rage.

“Ms. Granger, care to share your Potion with the class?” Slughorn stands over her with a clipboard and an eager gleam in his eyes.

“It’s a type of Synesthesia Potion, Sir. It allows the drinker to observe emotions in colour. I’ve formulated a list of what I think each colour represents, at least the ones I’ve managed to identify.”

“Fascinating!” Slughorn lifts the beaker and sniffs.

Glass shatters on the floor behind them. Metal legs screech against stone. A resonant thump-thump-thump as textbooks tumble. “Ow!” yelps Draco, knocking his head on the edge of the table, scrambling to clean up the mess he made. His cheeks are full of colour. He flicks his hair over his eyes in a feeble attempt to shield himself from the attention.

“Alright, dear boy?”

“May I—” He clears his throat. “May I be dismissed? I’m feeling lightheaded.”

Slughorn waves him away and the class resumes, with no further interruptions.

Hermione is unconvinced. Draco had the audacity to apologize to her earlier this year, insisting he’d changed. They’d even started studying in the library together. Only because she was generous enough to give him a chance. And all this time, he’d hated her. Red hot hatred.

She corners him in the courtyard before Herbology, pointing her wand in his direction. “You, you!”

Draco retreats in a panic until he has nowhere else to go. Pinned against a birch with Hermione’s wand at his throat. “You foul, you evil—”

He lifts his palms innocently, turning his face away, wincing. “I can’t help the way I feel, Granger!”

“You told me you’d changed!”

“Things happen, alright! I never expected to get close to you this year.” He’s paler than the bark behind him, a bead of sweat trickling over his brow.

The words land like a swift punch to the gut. “Your feelings changed after you got to know me?”

“I mean… how could they not?” He swallows deeply. “I don’t devote hours of my time to those I feel lukewarm about. I thought maybe you knew.”

Her throat feels tight. She blinks hard, wishing she wasn’t such an easy crier. “No, you just spend time with the people you hate. What were you trying to do? Trick me somehow? Win back popularity points with your Slytherins?”

His mouth opens, shuts, opens again. He utters a single syllable. And then stops talking. His eyes flick down to the tip of her wand. Then up to her. He looks helpless. If she weren’t so wrecked, she might have felt sorry for him.

Finally, he says, “I don’t hate you.”

Her wand lowers fractionally. “Then what does red mean?”

As if summoning the colour by name, Draco’s face blooms full of it. He takes her wrist cautiously and lowers her wand all the way. His grip is gentle, the edge of his thumb running over her pulse.

“It’s better I show you,” he says in a low voice.

The racket behind them is gone. The bell rang five minutes ago and now they’re officially late. For once, Hermione can’t be bothered. Instead, she nods tentatively, thinking maybe she’s so upset because she’s grown fond of his eyes. The way they look at her. Not lukewarm at all.

The hand still holding her wrist tugs her closer. One step forward and they’re pressed right up against each other—and she feels it. He’s hard.

Her heart begins to race.

Draco caresses her jaw, watching his fingers in fascination, touching her skin.

Her eyes flutter shut.

Their lips meet.

Oh, she determines, somewhere in the back of her mind, That’s what red means.

(717 words, prompt: neptune & somewhat inspired by the full flower moon last night 🌸🌕)

[thiswasinevitableid]

Thief of Joy (GoodCollins)

My first fill for my @theterrorbingo! The prompt was "a man who has lost his joy."

This fill owes a huge debt to, and in my head exists in the same universe as, this work by @bellafarallones.

Content Note: Most of this depicts a CNC scene. Aftercare is shown and it's clear this was something they both were very into.

It’s not a second flood, but the sky is doing its damnedest to drown the city. The roads are as good as puddles, and the lamp posts look ready to blow over. 

At least he’s not walking home in his fucking uniform. That’s about all Henry can say in terms of his luck. He remembered his raincoat, but the fucking thing is always so tight around his chest it’s uncomfortable. Just one more reminder that he’s no better than some hulking monster. He should feel right at home trudging through the dark in a midnight storm.

What’s he even trudging toward? His tiny apartment without even a houseplant for company (because last time he got depressed, he couldn’t water his one parlor palm and it died before he clawed his way back to some sort of equilibrium)? A dinner of whatever fruit he found discounted at the Grocery Outlet because work makes the thought of anything involving cheese, oil, or meat repulsive?

All that and he just so he can get up after not enough sleep to do the same, shitty thing the next day. Forever and ever.

He should just go lay down in the road. Knowing his life, nothing would come, and in the morning he’d have to rise from the filthy, wet pavement and go into work looking more like a boogeyman than normal. 

As he rounds a corner, hoping for a bus stop with an overhang, the light in a second floor apartment flicks on. He looks up and feels mild excitement (the closest he gets to joy these days). In the window is his favorite customer; a friendly nurse whose name tag reads H. Goodsir whenever he comes in to grab dinner. He has short, dark hair, a tidy beard, and kind eyes. More importantly, he’s never rude or dismissive to Henry. Lately, he’s even been asking how Henry’s day is going as he waits for his order. 

Goodsir is moving about his bedroom, talking and laughing, but the longer Henry watches the more convinced he is that no one else is in the apartment. Then the nurse waves and bends out of view, reappearing with a laptop and closing it as he walks past the bed. 

Henry is at the back stairs now, just for a peek in the opposite window. From here, he can see Goodsir is in pajama pants and a warm-looking shirt. He seems to be turning down his bed for sleep, mug of tea coming and going from his hand as he putters about the room. 

A gust of wind nearly knocks Henry into the back door and he catches himself with an 

“Oof.” Someone needs to call the landlord, this knob is loose. 

No, wait. The door just isn’t locked. If he wanted to, he could slip up there. See if the apartment door is as easy to pass through. 

Goodsir passes by the window a final time, book in hand. Off to climb into his warm bed no doubt. 

How come he gets all the luck?

How come Goodsir gets a house full of light and people who make him laugh and a cozy bed while all Henry has to look forward to is being a walking cautionary tale about men who lack ambition or will?

How come Goodsir gets to be happy and he doesn’t? There has to be a way for Henry to take some of it for himself. 

His attention returns to the doorknob. Then he turns it, chuckling to himself for the first time in weeks. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

As a child, Harry was afraid of storms. They seemed unstoppable and, worse, unpredictable. Then his father bought him a book on weather. Harry read every page, and after that the storms didn’t seem as terrifying. More magnificent in all the phenomena they displayed. 

All that’s to say he’s most of the way asleep, the wind and driving rain making for pleasant white noise, when his bedroom door creaks open. 

Odd, those hinges are newly repaired.

He sits up to investigate and goes stone-still. 

There’s a man in his bedroom. 

He tells himself it’s one of his neighbors, knowing full well no one from the downstairs apartment is quite so large. 

“Can I help you?” Being polite seems wisest, given that the man could probably throw him over his shoulder. Or out the window.

“Yeah.” The figure takes one step toward him, “you can. You’ve got something I want.”

Harry draws his knees up to his chest, “If it’s money, you can have it. I, I don’t have much in cash, but you can take whatever’s there.” He indicates his wallet, “there’s some hidden in the kitchen too.”

“I’m not here for money.” The man is now at the edge of the bed, right next to Harry. He keeps his eyes on the shoes; rain boots, the sensible kind fishermen wear. If he looks up and sees the rest, that will make this so terribly real.

“How did you get in?” Maybe this is opportunistic; that feels safer, somehow, than if the man came looking for him.

“Back door to the building was unlocked. Same thing goes for your place.” He snorts, derisive and low, “figures a bright-eyed thing like you would assume the best of people. Amazed no one’s done this to you yet.”

“I forgot.” He replies weakly.

A large, cold hand cups his chin, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t make the same mistake again.”

Harry tries to turn his head away, only for fingers to dig into his jaw and force his face upward. 

“Mm, looks just as good as I thought. You all teary-eyed.” Dark eyes rove covetously across his body. A pity they’re face they’re set in looks so unkind. 

And familiar. 

He’d know those bedraggled, handsome features anywhere. 

“Henry?”

“Surprised you know my name.” The man releases him, begins pulling off his jacket and tugging at his boots. 

“Of course I do. I see you all the time, if I’m honest I only go there half as often as I do because I like seeing you. I thought you liked seeing me, too.” He sits up straighter, trying to draw Henry’s attention back from his far too efficient undressing, “Henry, please, you don’t have to do this, if I’ve done something wrong-”

“That’s the fucking problem” his palms hit the wall on either side of Harry’s head, making him flinch, “nothing’s wrong with you. You’re a nice little man with a nice little life. And I’m not.”

“I think you’re nice.” Harry says meekly as Henry stands back up.

“Bullshit.” Henry tugs the final layer off his torso. He has chest hair and adipose tissue to spare, accentuated by tattoos on his arms and chest. A fact Harry would enjoy were he not afraid and, increasingly, annoyed. 

“You’re assuming a lot about my life and thoughts, and you’re about to make a terrible mistake because of it.”

“Don’t think I am.” Henry crawls onto the bed in only his white briefs, and Harry feels a bit lightheaded from fear.

(Yes, definitely just the fear).

“You’re going to hurt me! That is definitely a mistake!” Harry snaps. 

“Never said that.” Henry’s straddling his thighs, so heavy Harry couldn’t move him if his life depended on it, “I don’t want to hurt you any. Just want to take some of that happiness you been hogging in this life and this little build of yours” he squeezes the side of Harry’s glute for emphasis, “and keep it for myself. Even things up some.”

“You can’t.”

“Watch me.” Henry practically rips Harry's pants off. He doesn’t get a chance to close his legs before Henry’s hand is between them, palming at his balls and feeling roughly down his ass.  

When he reaches his hole he presses one finger in without preamble. Harry yelps in protest, only for Henry’s other hand to cover his mouth. 

“Shut it. Don’t want you waking the neighbors.”

Harry tries to shout again. This time the hand actually presses down. 

“You’re making this much of a racket now, not gonna have much of a voice come morning. Feel that?”

Harry does, indeed, feel the obscene bulge of a cock rubbing at him through white fabric. He nods. 

“That's going in you. Might work up to it, might not.”

He manages to push Henry’s hand away enough to gasp, “There’s no way I can take that behemoth.”

“Cute how you think you get a say.” The palm comes back over his mouth as two fingers roughly rock into him, “might sting some for a delicate fucking nurse-boy like you, bet you could use that though, ass like this needs a real fuck, not some half-assed one-”

Madness or survival instinct, he can’t say which, overtakes him, and he bites down on Henry’s palm as hard as he can. 

“OWfuck!” Henry pulls back and Harry grabs for his other hand, intending to push it away long enough to escape the bed. But Henry is terrifyingly fast for a man his size, and he’s soon muffled again.

 He tries clawing at the offending arm but that does nothing. Henry’s palm stays in place while the other hand controls Harry’s free wrist. 

“Do that again and I won’t prep you more.”

Tired of feeling cowed, Harry bites down, this time on the side of his hand. Henry grunts but doesn’t pull away. Stranger still, he doesn’t glare or snarl.

He smiles. 

Then Harry’s stomach hits the bed and the enormity of his error hits him full force. 

“Henry please, I’mmphh!” The hand slips between his mouth and the pillow. As he’s about to bite it again, the thick head of a cock presses against him. Then it pushes in and he mouths at still-cold skin, too overwhelmed to do anything else.

“Bite all you want, s’fine by me. Little blood is more than worth it for this.” Henry shoves himself in to the base with a groan, “so fucking tight, thought it might just break you but you look so fucking good like this.” His hips start a steady, possessive stream of thrusts and Harry moans, hoping the sound will distract from the fact his own cock has decided to join in on the fun. 

“Like that? Fucking knew you would, don’t, fuck, don’t think your dick is getting out of this neither, once you’ve got enough cum in your ass you can’t walk without dripping I’m gonna ride you until you fucking pass out.”

Harry turns his head, gasp for air turning to a sob as Henry mercilessly fucks into him, making every nerve sing with what should be fear but has simply turned to pleasure. 

“Feel that? How you can’t get away and you can’t make it stop and all you can do is lay there and fucking take it?”

Harry whimpers, managing to nod.

“That’s how I feel all the fucking time, that’s all life is for me! Even now you’ve got it better than I do because I care enough to make it so good you’re fucking begging for it by the end.”

“You don’t care about me.” Harry tries to wipe his eyes on the pillowcase, only to be stopped by a hand on the back of his neck.

“Shh, don’t say that. I do care.” His other hand is on Harry's hip, thrusts not as aggressive but twice as greedy, “if I didn’t, wouldn’t have done this here. Woulda just dragged you into my car some night, fucked you in the back, then dumped you back out. Wanted you in bed, wanted you warm and safe, and” the hand leaves his neck for his cock. Henry carries on, undeterred by his cries, “and not just once. Gonna come back again and again, because this is the only thing that makes life worth living. And you’re gonna let me, because you’re such a nice man, you wouldn’t turn me away, wouldn’t take away the one thing that makes a pathetic mess like me happy.”

“Never.” Harry gasps out, and then he’s helplessly cumming into a strong fist before Henry drapes over him, holding him tight and fucking him triumphantly. 

“Fuck, knew you’d see it my way, gonna fuck you so fucking much you won’t need a plug ever again, keep you all stretched out for me all on my own, fuck, take it, c’mon, take it all, gonna cum so deep you’re gonna feel it in your fucking throatfuck, oh fuck, Harry.”

A kiss finds his shoulder as Henry groans and shudders against him. Then the other man eases out of him but otherwise doesn’t move, meaning they both go down when Harry gives up being on his knees and arms. 

“My god” Harry gasps, manages to roll onto his back with his boyfriend still atop him and wiggle free enough to breathe. He laughs, rubbing a hand over his face, “god, that was amazing.”

“Muhuh” Is the reply from where Henry is smushed against his chest.

"And I'm glad I prepared before hand. Heaven knows I wasn't feeling anymore patient than you were."

"Nmmhm."

“Hands.” Harry orders gently, and the other man obeys, holding up each in turn for his inspection. 

“Doesn’t look like I broke the skin. That’s a relief, I was afraid I had on that second bite.”

Harry shakes his head, shaggy hair falling across his eyes, “nuh uh. All good.”

This is often their dynamic after sex; Harry feels energized, like he needs to twitter about a bit, and Henry becomes an adorably sleepy lump on the covers. 

His boyfriend shivers, “Fuck. Wasn’t even out that long in the rain. Just parked around the block before I came in since it was the only place I found a spot.”

“Here, let's get your hair dry. And put on your bathrobe.”

“Yes, sir.” Henry sits up enough and kisses once before retrieving the pile of green fabric from the back of the door. Harry returns with a towel, patting and fulfilling Henry’s locks until they’re dry. 

“Were you really on the phone with someone?” Henry nestles under the blankets as Harry cleans himself up and puts on new pajamas. 

“Alex; he’s visiting family in Scotland and wanted to call and chat. It’s nice having a friend who’s so enthusiastic about his travels that he needs to share tales from them while he’s still on the road.”

“Yeah.”  Henry barely waits for Harry to sit down in bed before hugging him, “glad we waited until the neighbors took a weekend away to do that.”

“Agreed.”

“You’re okay?” He always asks, always with the same level of concern, regardless of how filthy or tame their tryst was. 

“Incredibly so.” Harry kisses his forehead, “and I’m…glad that you don’t feel that joyless anymore. At least not as often.”

“It’s easier to manage these days. The company helps a lot.” Henry smiles and kisses his cheek, “c’mon, time for bed.”

Harry switches off the light and turns to press his chest to his boyfriend’s back. As he drifts off, he wonders if he worries if the doors are locked. Then he relaxes; of course they are. Henry came home last, and Henry is always careful to make sure their joyful little home is as safe as either of them can manage. 

[mxssingmemories]

That Just Happened

Pairing: Professor! Harry Styles x daughter-figure! reader

Summary: You've known Harry since you've been in high school-little does he know that you see him as a father figure. After a really rough day, you accidentally call him dad. Love ensues.

Warnings: Dead parent, mention of SH tendencies, crying, comfort

Word Count: 1k

A/N: this is my first Harry fic, so i hope y'all love it :) have a good night, loves!

You'd known Harry for the four years you'd been in high school. To others, he was just Mr.Styles- but you and him had a father-daughter relationship. He thought of you as his kid, and with your absence of a father figure, he took on the role easily.

He was friends with your mom even before you'd started the 9th grade, so she trusted him with you 100%. She knew that he was a positive male figure in your life; she'd never do anything to end that.

"Hey Mr. Styles!" your friend, Alex, smiled as they walked with you into his room. It'd become your safe space at this hellhole of a school, and having Alex here made it even better.

"Hi Alex, hey Y/N," he smiled, greeting you with a side hug. As you sat down, you immediately zoned out-today had been rough. It was the day your birth father had passed away, and it hit you big time every year.

Of course Alex and Harry knew this, and since Harry was busy teaching, Alex took over. They rubbed your shoulder, letting you know that they were there. The gesture gave you some confidence to take out your notebook and a pen, opening to the next titled page. He was teaching a topic you were very familiar with today (you had a sneaking suspicion he did this on purpose, but knew he'd never admit it.)

You did your best to take notes, even with your hands shaking. Your foot tapped almost rhythmically against the tile, the cold metal of the desk keeping you grounded in reality as you took deep breaths to keep the panic at bay. It worked for a while; Harry keeping the class interested with constant jokes about the math formulas he was writing on the board. He sent glances your way almost every time he looked up from the board, obvious concern written on his face. You tried to signal to him that he shouldn't panic, but it was tough to do that when you were trying to tell yourself the same thing. Alex's hand ran discreetly through your hair, the other writing your notes for you.

You only zoned back in when Harry dismissed the class, choruses of "See you tomorrow, Mr S!" and "Have a good day, sir," echoed in the small room. When the room finally cleared out, Harry walked over to your desk, his face finally tensing up to match the emotions he was feeling inside. Alex cleared their throat, and you waved your arms haphazardly letting them know it was okay to leave. With a drawn out hug, they walked out of the classroom, shutting the door behind them.

You sat on the floor heavily, leaning into Harry as he matched your position.

"I'm sorry, Haz," you apologized, burying your face in his chest.

"None of that, lovie. You have nothing to apologize for, and I thought we banned the s-word?" he attempted to tease, the smile falling off his face as his reassurance caused you to finally lose it, sharp sobs shaking your body. You bawled into his chest, all the feelings you'd been keeping cooped up coming out. Harry noticed the second you started scratching your arms roughly, grabbing your hands and holding them instead. He wouldn't let you hurt yourself, no matter what happened. He just held you tighter, shushing you softly and muttering reassurances into your ears as the emotions crashed through you. Harry felt his shirt getting soaked, but he honestly didn't care. All he wanted to do was keep you safe, and if that meant safe from yourself? Then he would cross that bridge when he got to it.

You fell asleep quickly after that, the crying exhausting your already sleep-deprived body. Harry gently picked you up in his arms and carried you out to his car. With anyone else, this would've raised a LOT of questions, but the staff knew about your familial relationship with the kind-hearted teacher, & your mom had signed a contract.

He laid you gently across the back seat, shutting the door as quietly as possible. You hadn't woken up the whole ride back to his house, but you eventually yawned and opened your eyes at Harry's house.

"What..Where am I?" you mumbled, rubbing sleep from your eyes in a feeble attempt to understand what was possibly happening right now.

"You're at my house, kiddo," were the only words that relaxed you enough to go limp in your father figure's arms. He easily took on your weight, carrying you bride-style up the steps and onto the couch. He tried to set you down and move to get you some water, but you clung onto him like a koala. A small smile came onto his face as he watched you attempt to bring him down onto the couch. He gave in a second later, shifting you next to him in an attempt to get himself comfortable. He gave up on that the second you shifted onto his chest, his fatherly instincts taking over to comfort.

"Y'gonna be alright, sweetheart," he assured you quietly, thinking you were asleep.

"Love you, Dad." you muttered, & seconds later, sleep took you for the final time that night. His eyes widened as he processed the statement, but he couldn't deny that it felt right.

Well shit, he thought, that just happened. He didn't want to overreact as he so often did with you, but he couldn't help the huge smile on his face. He loved you more than you knew.

The next morning was...awkward, to say the least. You had no idea what you'd said, so when your mother texted you and asked you about it, you freaked out. Jumping off the couch the minute you read the message, you startled Harry.

He flinched hard enough to roll off the couch, and your dog that he'd been keeping for you, Harley, jumped right on top of him. It was safe to say by the pained groan he let out that 90 pounds of puppy didn't feel good on a stomach, but he laughed it off. When you both had finally calmed down a little bit, you asked the million dollar question.

"Are we going to talk about this..?"

"Whenever you're ready, kiddo," he smiled, his mind going 100 miles a minute with happy thoughts-he was happy you thought of him like that. God knows he'd been feeling the same way.

[cottonraincoat]

"startled and unnerved" - part 2 - 1782 (1)

part 1

---

Mozart’s arrival was light as the wind; unbearably so, and ringing with his high, blithe laughter. It whistled, waltzed through all that it came upon, and eventually crumbled against palace walls, uprooting nothing. 

Unless somebody forgot to close the windows. 

Or, in fact, the gates, through which Mozart came prancing, assured of his place here as (if more more than) any noble by birth. 

If it had been unnerving to hear of his winsome escapades along the upper echelons of Viennese society— one that won him an opera commission not two months after the dissolution of his employment with Colloredo— then even more so was reports about the alarming speed at which he was actually completing the commission. 

“You mean it is already in rehearsals?” Rosenberg said to Stephanie, with deep scepticism. 

“Yes,” the harried librettist sighed, as if distressed, “and I’ve no doubt he’d be climbing my windows again to beg for corrections and additions, I’ve never worked with a more insistent, stubborn, flighty, bizarre…” 

“Again?” Rosenberg suddenly gawped, “what do you mean again?” 

“How is—” Salieri interrupted, his curiosity getting the better of him, “the rehearsal for the opera coming along? Is he as much as people say he is?” 

Stephanie threw him an unreadable look. 

“You’d better come see for yourself, then.” 

~~~

A few days after this interlude, Salieri took ill. 

He must have stood for too long in the wind. 

Or more to the point, consecutive sleepless nights incurred a debt that must be repaid, regardless of how shameful the cause for his insomnia. He was in such a state of disquiet that even the Emperor took notice, and remarked curtly on his not being himself. 

“Forgive me, your Majesty…” Salieri quickly bowed his head, “I do not feel very well.”

Joseph II waved him off, uncharacteristically nonchalant about whether Salieri was present at his evening chamber concert. Salieri paused momentarily, jarred by his swift dismissal, but neither was he too willing to question the Emperor. Thus he simply gathered his music, and turned to go. The other court musicians paid him no mind, rushing to cajole the monarch, and Salieri was readily forgotten. 

In his mind, announcing his exit, there was a despicable, grating laughter; the mockery of heavens above, sounded in the basest of instruments. So distracted was he that Salieri did not notice the laughter was far from in his mind. Nor did he see the figure running down the hallway, and bodily collided with it at the door— he stumbled, inadvertently gripping the other’s shoulder to steady them both— then realized who the intruder was. 

“Ah, Maestro Salieri!” cried an inappropriately exuberant voice. He laid a hand over Salieri’s, which jolted away as if burned. 

“Mozart.” 

Said man took a moment to consider him, then giggled to himself once more, seemingly over nothing. And Salieri could swear his headache intensified tenfold. 

“Come in, Mozart!” Joseph II’s voice rang behind his back. There was no pointed statement about Mozart’s tardiness, or his plain disrespect of the Emperor for entering without being shown in, then stalling at the door without addressing Joseph II himself. “You are just in time to replace Signor Salieri for the evening, for our poor Kapellmeister is unwell.” 

“Is that so?” Mozart turned to him. His expressive, guileless face took on a shade of concern, quizzical and extravagant as the wig on his head. 

It may be an illusion of illness, that Mozart’s look appeared to Salieri sharp as a predator’s. Either way, he had no intention of continuing this encounter while he was so unsteady. 

“If you’ll excuse me…” he began, pointedly in Italian, while the others spoke in German. 

“Mozart, did you bring the music?” The Emperor called. 

“Yes, your Majesty!” Mozart bounded forward, finally sensing Joseph II’s growing impatience, but doubled back once more. “Wait, Salieri— you’ve not returned the score to my opera! And I made no copy! Will you—” 

Pretending to not have understood his rapid German, Salieri pushed past him. 

“I must bid you goodnight, Signor,” he said, exaggerating the Legnago accent he’s not spoken with since he was a boy. 

Mozart appeared a little confused, but eventually went on ahead towards the Emperor’s prized fortepiano. Salieri continued making his retreat. He didn’t need to look to imagine the sour expressions of musicians in the chamber. A cabal of jealous fools who ordinarily won’t allow the Emperor to hear a bar of Mozart or Handel, how caught off guard would they be, if they were as uninformed as Salieri of Mozart’s invitation? 

But not ten paces from the door, Salieri heard the beginning of a quartet— one of Mozart’s— and he is thus rooted to the spot, immobile. He waited until the end of the piece; it was followed by an aria from die Entführung, no doubt brought by Mozart from the rehearsals for the Monarch’s inspection. At its conclusion, Salieri let out a shaky held breath. He adjusted the music collected in his arms, his hands shook as if from great exertion. Before he could hear the beginning of the next piece, he fled. 

Not knowing it was to be an aria of his own, and it was Mozart— who had every occasion and reason to fill the hour with pieces of his own, who would not be given a chance like this at the Emperor’s chamber concert again— that chose and conducted the piece.

---

Mozart received the libretto for Die Entführung on July 29 of '81, and immediately took to working on the opera with great zeal. His letters to his father from this period frequently spoke of harassing Stephanie to make changes. "Everyone abuses Stephanie," he writes in a letter on September 26. There is no record (read: I have not found any) of Salieri attending the rehearsals of die Entführung. That part of the snippet draws entirely on the musical MOR. It was a habit of Emperor Joseph II to give daily private concerts during/immediately after his dinner. Joseph II himself would play in these concerts, with his chamber musicians, which some sources in fact claim to be a gatekeeping, clique-y lot. Salieri had participated in these evening performances since he was 16, shortly after he first arrived in Vienna with Gassmann. However, Mozart was probably never invited to one, at least not at this point (he would surely have written to his father about it).

[lunarheslwt]

Hi! Welcome to fic recs for the month! I wanted to put together all the fics I've read and loved over both Feb and March for this month's 28th appreciation (as I didn't post for Feb bc I only read like 2 fics), so here they are! Click on the links for full tags and summaries. If you read any of these make sure to show the authors some love by leaving kudos and comments!

💫Fringe & flogging by @larry-hiatus

(4k | E | nipple play pwp)

Harry was good this time. He didn’t wear his lace knickers; he didn’t tear his trousers on stage. But his revealing outfit and less than family friendly performance still had the night ending in ripped clothing, this time at the hands of his jealous dom.

Thoughts: all Emily smut is really good, really hot smut. It's a guaranteed good time, especially if you like your Louis to be a little mean. Why aren't you reading yet?

💫Just a trim by @cherrystreet

(1.7k | E | crack and smut)

Or, the one where Harry gets a haircut, and Louis, along with the rest of the world, loses his mind.

Thoughts: so fucking funny, their dynamic is so fun in this and it's also rather sweet bless pls go read it for good vibes

💫Cause I just wanna feel alive by @goldenkinglouis

(3k | T | magical creatures and fluff)

“Oh, cheers, mate, but I don’t do dates.” Harry’s brow furrowed. “Are you–” he waved vaguely. Louis shook his head. “No, it’s just… been too long for me.” “And how might I convince you otherwise?” Harry asked, his eyes glistening under the lights. OR: Louis is a lost, lonely vampire. Harry is the witch who brings him home.

Thoughts: such a little beaut, beautifully descriptive, the world building feels a little ethereal and the softest characters. Thank you Lou!

💫Unplant by @hellolovers13

(4k | M | fluff)

Please do not disturb my plant. She needs 2 hours of sunlight a day and I live in a sunless flat. I’ll be back to collect her soon Thank you and stay well. or Louis should've looked where he was going, then he wouldn't have to desperately try to save a little flower now.

Thoughts: comfort fic, absolute gem, so very cute and I would die for Harry and her plants

💫To be a better man by @thedevilinmybrain

(9k | E | pwp)

“I can tell how much of a good boy you think he is.” Leon’s snarl doesn’t change, the corner of his mouth lifting higher. “But he’s still calling me, not you, hm?” “Watch your mouth.” Louis is about done with this conversation. Who the fuck talks about their own boyfriend like this? “Or are you accusing me of something?” “Just giving you an out, lad. Like Harry would even look at you. He’s too busy crawling up my ass to notice anyone else.” Leon snarls, rolling his eyes in a dismissive shake of his head. “But if you’re so concerned, go see what he wants. Make him happy enough to leave me alone, eh? Since you’re so worried.”

Thoughts: actually speechless with this one, it was so hot and sensual and I didn't breathe the entire time, you're missing out if you don't read it

💫The light streams out by @nooradeservedbetter

(6k | G | magic & animal transformation)

But in the open air and colours and wind and immensity of the moorlands, that’s where Harry’s entire being feels really free, that’s where he lets himself be one with the magic that soars in him and upon him and in the moorlands all the same, making him one with the land, the earth, the soil, the air around him. He looks at the wilderness, untamed like his magic, and the wilderness looks back, a mirror that makes him safe. He lets the wind course through his hair, feels the moss under his naked feet, long shirt fluttering behind him the only non-natural noise he can hear. He opens his arms, and flies. (Or, Harry's magic is unstable, and Louis finds himself being followed by a fennec fox)

Thoughts: such a gem, so very sweet and soft, wonderfully descriptive and just so lovely

💫did I upset you, daddy? (take out your frustration on me) by @larrydoinglaundry

(3k | E | pwp)

Harry misbehaves, so Louis gets off without him. Harry of course has to watch.

Thoughts: so fucking hot, 10/10 concept always, so good!!!

💫Pull you closer (kiss me harder) by @sunshineandthemoonlight

(5k | E | canon compliant)

Harry likes to wear panties sometimes. It’s never been a sexual thing, until suddenly it is.

Thoughts: angst? Impeccable. Smut? So good and full of emotion. It just made me feel so much and is so well written, in awe.

💫Doc in my box by @homosociallyyours

(2k | E | medical kink)

Faced with lots of extra stress at work, Louis hasn't really felt like she could let go sexually in a while. She's pretty sure that a visit to a certain gynecologist will help change that, though.

Thoughts: so fucking hot!! A delight and I love how quickly Louis almost wanted to break her character. Just so good.

I didn't get to read much this month so this is all I have, but they're all really good! If you check these out, give these works some love. As always, fic writers I will give you the world <3

[oflights]

wip snip 2.3

thank you for the tag, @m0srael! i'm still plugging away at turkey baster fic, wherein draco is still on his quest for a suitable sperm donor (but hasn't taken harry up on his offer. yet.)

in this (rather long, sorry!!) snippet, harry has dropped off ginger foster kittens, and he and draco are talking, as they often do in this fic, about getting pregnant.

“Are you going to try it for yourself? You seemed interested.” Draco doesn’t clarify what he means, mostly because he wants Potter to. While he can admit that Potter would, will, be a brilliant father, he doesn’t love the idea of Potter stealing his idea and making a go of this, either on his own or with someone else. All right, he hates the idea of Potter making a go of this with someone else, purely for the sake of young 20-year-old Draco who learned the hard way not to fancy blokes like Harry Potter, but doing it on his own doesn’t sound good to him either; chances are he’ll be better at it than Draco, because that’s how their lives have always worked.

Potter shakes his head, and Draco all but Occludes to hide how relieved he is. “No, that wasn’t quite what I was interested in.” He gives Draco a significant look there, and Draco just blinks back at him, missing whatever implication he’s supposed to glean before narrowing his eyes.

“Ah. You don’t want to be the one to carry?”

“No, I don’t—never mind. No, it’s more like I’ve taken your advice; I shouldn’t give up on doing it with the partner I want. I’ve just felt a bit—stuck, I suppose. I’m not sure what to do next.” Potter frowns thoughtfully, the kitten back in his big hands, rubbing absentmindedly through the tufty fur.

“Well, you’re not on a time limit, like I am,” Draco says, going slightly cold at the thought. He’s lost nine weeks to using the Book of Sperm; less than four months is a terrifying lack of time. He knows he’ll have to discuss different options with Healer Harper the next time he visits, but he’s dreading the thought.

“I understand, a bit, why you don’t want to lose this place,” Potter tells him, looking at the pet room all around them. “It’s so—you. And the garden—I would kill for your garden.”

“Bertrand’s going to rip it up,” Draco says. It’s satisfying how pinched Potter’s face goes, like he really does understand how devastating that would be. “He knows how much I love it; he’s told me how he wants to destroy it. I can’t—I won’t let that happen.”

“And there’s no other way?” Potter asks, before scrambling to add, “Not that I think you won’t—I mean, you’ll be fantastic with a baby, no doubt about it.”

“Really? No doubts at all?” Draco grins, expecting Potter to join in on the joke, but he just raises his chin stubbornly, nodding firmly.

“Not even one.” The moment hangs between them, oddly charged. Draco, of course, can’t help thinking that Potter has changed his tune, though he manages not to snipe that out. He knows that, rationally, knows that how Potter feels about him has changed; it’s the only reason they’re in this same room together, surrounded and covered by kittens Potter is entrusting to Draco’s care.

“Thank you,” Draco says, and then he clears his throat and gestures at the kittens, dipping his head to nuzzle the one at his shoulder slightly, stroking the one in his hand. “And thank you for—them. I needed this, really.”

“I did promise you were next up, and you’re always brilliant with them. Though, I should warn you—I don’t think you’ll have them for very long. Kneazle hybrids usually get snapped up fast, and Millie has a friend who might want two.” Potter’s shoulder slump apologetically, but Draco waves at him dismissively.

“I know how this works, don’t worry. I won’t get too attached.” Out of the corner of his eye, Odette seems to appear from nowhere on the wall, a dark gray cloud swishing her tail teasingly, proving him wrong. He ignores her pointedly to grin at Potter. “Do they have names yet?”

“Nope. Be my guest.”

“Excellent.” Draco sets down the kitten he’s holding next to the one between his legs to rub his hands together greedily, and he watches with delight as the two of them immediately curl up together, the feather toy held between them and poking out from between their little kitten bellies. “All right, since these are Weasley kittens, and there are seven of them—”

“Oh, you git—”

“—I think these two are Fred and George. This one up here—” He reaches up to stroke the one on his shoulder, smiling at the purring that elicits. “—is the dragon one, what’s his name? The fit one who said I was cute that time—”

“Charlie,” Potter bites out, face clouding, though he’s clearly also holding back a laugh.

“That’s right, you’re Charlie, aren’t you? Perfect. And those over there, the sleepy ones—Ronald, of course, he’s the one getting his turn at a bath from Beau, surely he needs it—and which ones are girls?”

“There are two girls; this is one,” Potter says, holding up the one that Fig is so fascinated by. He grins over at Draco. “George is a girl, too.”

“Wonderful. That one’s Ginny, then, of course—the one all over you—”

“She’ll punch you out for saying that, you know.”

“Yes, she does often resort to violence, that works perfectly. And that leaves Percy and Bill over there with Beau, right? Have I got them all?”

“You have.” Potter is faintly beaming at him, and Draco can’t help his slightly dopey smile back, forgetting to be self-conscious about it. There’s something too delightful about all this, too comfortable and joyous.

[arielgobuss]

31st chapter has been posted! Here's a little preview:

31. Will you catch me if I fall?

And this is how it feels When I ignore the words you spoke to me And this is where I lose myself When I keep running away from you*

"What a bastard! I knew that he would make you pay, but it's just too much!" Ron said fervently, after Harry had told him and Hermione, that Snape had punished him by making him drink some disgusting potion that made his throat sore. And because of that, he now had trouble speaking.

"Harry, I think you should..." Hermione began.

"I know, go to a teacher and tell them everything," he interrupted her wearily. The girl blushed. "No, Hermione, I won't give him the satisfaction. He won't break me. I'll handle him myself, I'm not a loser." He had to admit that his lies were getting better and better.

"Harry is right," Ron interjected, supporting his friend. "Snape is just a big jerk. If we start running around and complaining, he'll feel like he has won. And I'd rather choke on a pudding, than allow him to think that!"

"You're both insane!" the girl snorted and jumped up from her place. "I'm going to study," she said proudly, and walked away.

Ron looked at Harry and shook his head.

"But it's Friday. Does she need to study even on Fridays?"

The boy shrugged, looking around the Common Room. For some time, he was trying to spot Ginny, but to his annoyance, she wasn't there. Dinner was about to start, and he needed her help to have an alibi for when he'd be sitting at Snape's place.

Severus wanted Harry to come to him today. Until now they'd only been seeing each other during detentions, but this time, Severus himself had invited him to his chambers. This thought made the boy feel a strange warmth in his stomach.

There she was!

Harry jumped up off the couch, seeing Ginny walk down the stairs. Despite the surprised look he got from Ron, he went up to her and nervously asked for a moment in private. Several of her companions looked at each other with unambiguous smiles and moved ahead.

"What is it, Harry?" the girl asked, as they stopped at a secluded spot nearby.

Harry felt Ron's suspicious gaze on his neck, but he had no choice.

"I'd like to ask you a favor," he whispered.

"What happened to your voice?" She asked, surprised.

"Uh...It's a long story," Harry replied, waving a hand dismissively. He quickly explained his plan to her, and she gladly agreed to help him.

During the whole evening, Ron was watching him suspiciously, but fortunately, didn't ask any questions. At least for now.

At dinner, Harry swallowed almost nothing. His throat was burning horribly and he had the impression, that it had been cut by swords. When his friends reached the common room, he immediately went to the dormitory. He dived in the trunk and pulled out the same black pants which he had worn to Snape's birthday, and the warm, snowy-white sweater he had bought in Hogsmeade during a recent visit. After all, Snape finally invited him. He couldn't go as a ragamuffin.

Harry quickly dressed himself, put his Invisibility Cloak into the pocket and ran down to Ginny, who was waiting for him.

"Harry, you look..." she began.

"...so different," Hermione finished, appearing beside her. "I've never seen you this..."

"...stunning," ended the red-haired girl, smiling with delight.

"Uh..." he mumbled, blushing.

"You are going somewhere together?" Ron suddenly emerged from behind their backs, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"And why do you care?" Ginny spat as she grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him forward. The redheaded boy opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled him the other way.

When Harry and Ginny found themselves in the hall again, they smiled at each other with relief.

"Well, it worked. Now you can meet with your mysterious chosen one," she winked at him. Harry grinned.

"Thank you. We'll meet here again before ten o'clock.."

"Thank you. You helped me escape, too. Ron won't be as agitated if he thinks that I'm with you. Well, see you," she waved and disappeared in the corridor leading to the west tower, which belonged to Ravenclaw.

Harry looked around carefully, then threw the cloak on himself and slipped into the dungeons. Quickly, he crossed the office and before he knocked on the door of Snape's private chambers, he took off his cloak and straightened his hair. However, this only caused the strands to stick out even more.

When he entered the room, Severus was sitting in his chair, staring into the fire. He wasn't working on anything, neither was he reading. Just... waiting.

"For me," the boy realized, and he felt a warm current inside.

[sleepynegress]

@doctortwhohiddles I am fully aware of the racial abuse thrown at Zawe and their son. Those racists assholes aren't exactly subtle about it. But again, it doesn't mean it's gotten to a critical point where Zawe's life is directly impacted. Jumping to conclusions because of something that happend to someone else is not necessary.

Mam, sir, or mx... I have to just be blunt and say that line of thinking is why it's gotten to this point. Yes, it is necessary. Waving it away with "jumping to conclusions" is just enabling these absolutely horrific sections of fandom to thrive. I see constant excuses, that "it's only a few" and then you look at the followers of these unhinged people and see hundreds agree with them. If even ONE is doing any of the mess I've talked about then it's too much and fans should be more viligent and less hand-waving and dismissive about it. I have seen the crass, disgusting kind of thinking that has been documented and screenshot and reacted to. Fans too often make excuses in the same breath as they begrudgingly roll their eyes about the most basic of human acceptance. When the few people I've seen giving note to stop this mess, have fewer affirmations than the trolls have followers??? ...The table needs shaking, BADLY. The gross mean girl shit that's gone on unabated since before there was even suriety it was happening... the macro-aggressions about her Ugandan features because it discomforts them that their white fantasy object actually loves and adores what they've been taught is beneath them, all their fucking lives... And while I'm at it, -I'll throw in Alba, Sophie and others too on the entitlement side of it. Because I'm not gonna pretend yall give a fuck about Black women. And I'll take out of the notes in my initial reply and say this is largely a white woman (and girl) issue. Hillary Clinton is a white woman, this mess is in the same mental overlapped venn diagram space that you'all deny and constantly fail to really address.... This is bigger but... The lack of sisterhood across the spectrum of race and trans identity too, with these rowling-head terfs too(!), is weird and self-defeating in the worst way. Most of you (in the U.S. and of voting age specifically) voted for a monster rather than a fellow white woman, hugely overqualified, and now we're thrown back to helpless health professionals watching people with uteruses actually DIE of easily managed birth issues... So no, you do get to not all this particular point in that venn diagram. The initial response was for you and any other fans to get more self-aware and to ACT AS IF IT IS DEFINITELY HAPPENING, regardless. Hence the word "could". And be forreal, -given how Harry and Meg have been proven to be treated in arguably as big a spotlight and for similar reasons, a famous symbolically beloved/watched white actor whom most assumed would partner with the standard white western avatar is most likely getting this shit too. And mind you, Meg is just *barely* not white passing and had kids who mostly are, and that's not considering racist questioning about their kids' color, which we only know about because Harry is the type to reveal it. Consider to yourself, honestly... as fans and what you've seen of the kind of tolerance that Tom demonstrated that he may not be the type to let yall know in explicit terms that kind of thing is happening. But perhaps possibly all the questions about him "changing" are in fact just the basic ways to protect his loved ones from that? I don't care if it isn't happening at all... Move as if it is (i.e. do better about not creating a space where these people feel comfortable perpetuating this mess). That was the point of my initial response, -to handhold this fandom to basic and I mean bare minimum basic respect for this man's family, not simply begrudgingly because they are his family, but because they are human beings.

So Tom is condescending because he won't speak for Zawe? Seriously? What he did is the very opposite of condescending. He acknowledged that the best person to talk about it was Zawe and not him. He didn't make her role in The Marvels about him. As for him being a father, it's clear to everyone that his family life is off topic.

It's clear this anon is still desperately trying to convince herself that one day Tom will give her the details of his personal life she feels entitled to. And that she's still pissed he didn't stay single.

Of course, ZFC gave this anon a platform without calling out her bitterness. It's another anon who did it for her.

[xxkiller-muffinxx]

༺But it can heal, if you learn from it. Pt 2༻

Pairing: Ebenezer Scrooge x reader

Summary: on the way to the party, (Y/N) recalls a few more painful memories of the past, but an old friend makes her feel better.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: mention of death, and angst with a happy ending.

A/N: please make more of these you guys, Scrooge is MWAH and I want to encourage people to start writing. Lastly thank you all for the love on the last part, you're all amazing <3 Just realized I may have forgotten to accommodate for Hela’s accent and I apologize dearly.

Pt. 1 “yes, the past can hurt”

(Y/N) fastened her coat on as she stared at herself in the mirror. She couldn’t help but stare at herself as she thought long and hard about the situation.

“Scrooge doesn’t bite, it’s just your imagination ruining you.” She straightens her coat and turns to the bonnet on the bed Hela left her. She rolled her eyes, (Y/N) was never fond of bonnets.

A memory filled her mind as she went to put it on.

———

A bonnet tied around (Y/N)’s neck for the first time made Ebenezer laugh. He’d never seen you with such a deep scowl, and it was quite silly. “What’s the matter? It looks good!” Ebenezer played with her as if she was a coned dog.

To reciprocate these feelings she snaps at Ebenezer, the two children giggling to themselves. “Sneezer, I would tear this thing apart if I could.” Ebenezer walked up and adjusted it for her. (Y/N) faking her lack of oxygen which scares Ebenezer. “(Y/N)!” He grabs her, and she just falls limp for a moment, before springing to life and Scaring her friend. Ebenezer’s glare slowly molds into an amused chuckle.

———

(Y/N) adjusted the Bonnet, discomfort rings through her body, but she continues her pat down. She ran her hands over her face, and down her arms once more. There was a knock at the door. “Come in!” (Y/N) yelled to the person behind the door. The door creaks open, and Hela makes her presence known.

“You look splendid! Harry and I are ready when you are!” She spun out of the room. (Y/N) smiled. They’re made for each other. (Y/N) turns to the mirror ahead of her. Ebenezer would laugh and tell her she looked ridiculous, while Scrooge? she’d admit she had no idea what he’d say. Whatever it’d be, it'd be different.

The room is quiet, and (Y/N) feels a chill, a giggle echoes through her ears, a giggle that wasn’t her own. She turns violently. Leaning her back on the mirror behind her. The fear linger’s until Hela calls her name. She adjusts her dress again and walks off. She exits the room, seeing Harry with his wife. She joins him.

They walk together, the sky lit beautifully over the town, and Hela walks by (Y/N)‘s side while holding her hand. “I’m sorry to be bringing this up so early on, especially since you woke up not but 20 minutes ago.” She apologizes, but (Y/N) waved her hand dismissively.

Hela looks up at her husband, he seems more focused on the fact he’s getting the chance to get closer to his uncle. Hela smiles at her husband and turns back to (Y/N) “I can’t help but wonder that can’t be all that happened. Right?”

“What do you mean?” (Y/N) responded.

Hela’s eyebrows fall flat above her eyes, and she leans toward her, “I mean what happened between you and Scrooge.” (Y/N) scoffed. Hela threw her hands to her side and turned to her husband, grabbing his arm gently. She whispers something to him, and suddenly he’s gone.

Hela sits with (Y/N), causing her to feel rather nostalgic. “Tell me, what else happened, because if asking about his sister is really what took him to the edge, I’ll be angry.” Hela’s hand fell on top of (Y/N)’s. “Please.” She begs. It doesn’t take long until (Y/N) gives in with a defeated huff.

———

(Y/N) stayed in town for days, sending as frequent letters to her husband as possible. Until one day, she got a letter back expecting her return. So she began to write a letter addressed to the chap.

“Dear Ebenezer, I apologize if my last visit upset you, and I wish we could be friends once more. However things are looking poor for the both of us, and may I say I’m sorry for your loss, on all accounts. I wish I could have been there to help you.”

She wondered if she should stop there, but her eyes widened. She won’t ever see him again, and that meant she had to make one last impression. So she did.

“Yet, wishes aren’t important anymore, as the past is the past. So I must look to the future, and to do that I need to admit a few things so they may stay in my past. First things first, you’ve always been my best friend, the greatest ever, and nothing will change that. However, I’ve come to notice a pattern with you that scares me. You’re filled with greed Ebenezer, and I have to say it’s not your fault.

Next, this will be hard to say. As it contrasts a few of my earlier feelings, and I still do not know what happened to Isabel, or between the two of you. Just know how much you mean to me. For we may never see each other again, and I need you to know.”

Her breath caught in her throat, what is the feeling, how does one describe it without losing the trust of a friend? Without..?

“I adore you?” (Y/N) whispers, but that’s not it is it? She’s afraid of the 3 words she’d give her mother or father, but she also knows it’s nothing less than such. How to explain? She can only try.

“Every morning when I wake up, even if it’s not about you, or even if you’re not anywhere close, you're somewhere in my mind, making the day better. Every morning, noon, and night, from sunrise to the next full moon. You’ve meant more to me than most others I can name, and the words I’m looking for are not in my vocabulary just yet. Until they are, I hope to see you again.

Your dear friend,

(Y/N)”

———

“You wrote all that?” Hela speaks as soon as (Y/N) goes quiet. She sighs looking at the time. “We only have so long, Hela. I can’t keep telling you these stories.” (Y/N) begins to stand when Hela taunts her playfully.

“You can’t? Or won’t?”

(Y/N) stares at Hela in shock. “Hela, dear I just don’t know. I’ve already shared so much.” She politely laughed. Hela obliged, standing up. She takes a few steps forward and offers a hand to (Y/N). She takes it. “If you don’t want to share, I’ll honor that, but now we must find Harry, we only have 30 minutes!” She twirls her friend before running off, (Y/N) smiling and following her.

When they found Harry, he was already waiting in front of Scrooge’s home. Hela and Harry began to speak as (Y/N) became lost in thought.

—---

(Y/N) stood at the door to her friend’s home, and squeezed the letter in her palms tightly. She pondered knocking, leaving the letter, or just walking away with it, never having to deal with the consequences.

She would have stood there for hours if not a voice came from beside her. “(Y/N)?” she turned to the voice. “M-Mr. Scrooge, it's good to see you again! Well, that is if it's good for you to see me.” she anxiously twiddled with her thumbs and the edge of the paper envelope.

The man seemed to ignore her presence, and walk past her as he entered his house. “Ebenezer?” he stood at the door, pinching the bridge of his nose once more. He had to be too tired to correct her.

Scrooge’s eyes, now a deep grayish-blue, pierce (Y/N)’s skin. “What is it?” he said coldly. (Y/N) leans back a little, staring up at his face. He has newly shaped bags under his eyes, and his face seems to be permanently under stress.

(Y/N) slowly stammered into her next words. “I was just. Meaning to deliver this letter, before I go home tomorrow night.” She hands him the letter. She gasps silently when it's ripped out of her hands. He lets it hang at his side as he watches her. “Well? What now?” his gruff voice rings in her ears.

“Ebenezer, can we please have a word, it'll be quick.”

“Mr.Scrooge.”

“Mr. Scrooge, please.” her voice quivers, and when Scrooge looks her in the eyes, he sighs. Urgelessly letting her inside. Scrooge takes off his coat and rests it on the coat rack. (Y/N) looks around, he really has gotten richer. “Mr. Scrooge, we've missed so much time in the years I’ve been gone, can’t we just chat?” Scrooge turns to her. Crossing his arms.

“(Y/N). I don’t have time to simply “chat.” I have work to do, rest to have.” He awaits for (Y/N) to leave before he goes upstairs. “So what can we do? I just want to be near my friend for a while longer.” She says sincerely.

Scrooge has one hair loose from the top of his head, it falling over his face, and his long body Patiently stands across from her, his shoulders tense and his jaw clenched, But his eyebrows relaxed now that he’s inside.

(Y/N) stood almost completely still in the heavy atmosphere, a weight falling into her chest as she opened her mouth. “If you, I want to get done quickly. Tell me why you pushed me away. Years later? Mr.Scrooge we’re friends, I’m here if you need me.” She takes a step toward Scrooge, his eyebrows furrowing, and he mirrors her actions. “(Y/N) we were friends, but now what are we? You left me and Isabel without much of a second thought. Her mother had to tell us.” He says. His tolerance running thin.

Was that it? Just because you never told him you were leaving. “I’m sorry, but to admit I had no time, and I couldn’t bear saying goodbye.” Scrooge frowned deeply.

“Why couldn’t you just have said something before?”

“My father was telling me to continue talking to my now husband. So I had no time!”

“You had time for a dinner party then? Hm?”

“My father said it’d be a good bonding experience, I wanted to go alone.”

Scrooge’s face was complex, it just couldn’t be read, not like (Y/N)’s anyhow. (Y/N) knew it was mostly anger, but there was something about it that said something else to her. It became clear once Scrooge spoke again.

Scrooge takes a few steps closer to her. “Your husband, is he happy? Are you?” He looks down at her, he’s worried for her, and he has been for so long. (Y/N)’s hands drop to her sides.

(Y/N) clenched her teeth. “Yes, we both are.” Lying through her teeth. Old Ebenezer would take that for what it is, but this new man, with his money and his coats, somehow knew it all. “Did you lie to me?”

(Y/N) laughs awkwardly, “No? Why would I lie?”

“You laugh when you’re lying (Y/N)” Scrooge says simply. “You’ve never been happy around him.” (Y/N) realizes that he’s been getting closer, but doesn’t feel the need to point it out. A gnawing pain in her head doesn’t help what’s happening.

She turns away from him and begins mildly pacing back and forth in the room. “You don’t know me, Scrooge, I’ve grown, maybe our love has too.”

Scrooge scoffs at such an answer. He watches her pace, making his next point “Well, why don’t you say it then, that you love Him.” she looks at him and stares in shock.

“I…can’t she stops.” She stops in her tracks, Scrooge looks at her.

“Why not?”

“Because… it doesn’t matter why. You tell me about Isabel first.”

“Why can’t you say it? Is it because you don’t love him?”

“No! It’s because those words scare me.”

“It’s your husband.”

“He might as well be my flatmate.”

Scrooge’s eyebrows raise at that last remark. He walks toward her slowly “you don’t love him. Be honest.” (Y/N) stepped back. She huffs out air as she walks “no, I don’t, but it’s not my fault.” she says quickly. Her leg hits the railing of stares. She moves beside it to have more room to go back.

Scrooge doesn’t seem to take that statement clearly. He laughs deeply “not your fault? What do you mean by that.” She sighs as she hits a wall. “Because it’s yours.” Scrooge continues to follow her onto the wall. The world seems so small now. “(Y/N), how in the world could it be my fault?” (Y/N) is pressed into a corner, Scrooge hovering above her.

“Because I love you!”

Three words. Well, literally four, but those three words she was afraid to say before, came out in a flurry of anxiety, sadness, anger, and even somewhat grief. The two stood in that corner for a moment more. Their silence floated amongst the large space. “Ebenezer I- I’m sorry.” She looks down. Scrooge’s eyes widen, and suddenly his bright blue eyes spark to life.

He steps back, and (Y/N) breathes heavily. Ebenezer never takes his eyes off of her. “(Y/N)...I-” a voice from outside caught their attention calling out to the woman. She walks up to him. Her face falls flat as she asks him “Scrooge, I meant that. If you care at all.” his eyes soften on her as he gently grabs a hold of her waist, hugging her. Resting his head on top of hers.

She hugs him back, knowing who she’s hugging. When Ebenezer pulls back, she looks up at him, his hands still on her waist. Their eyes meet, and his eyes move down to her lips. (Y/N) feels heat rise to her face as her eyes fall to his as well. Scrooge gently leaned down, kissing her lips softly, but passionately. It lasts for nearly 30 seconds before Ebenezer pulls back.

Scrooge turns away. “You should go.” (Y/N) leans forward to get back into his arms, but Scrooge continues walking away. “Scrooge.” He stops, and with a sad, disgruntled frown he weakly repeats himself. Pushing his hair back in the process “Mr. Scrooge, now leave. Before I say anything You regret.”

So she turns, looking away from the man that took up so much room in her mind for far too long. She stops in front of the door. “That letter was addressed to Ebenezer. Make sure he gets it please.” With that she leaves, holding her chest as she walks out, slamming the door.

———

(Y/N) comes back to her senses, and as she does she notices the number of people on the stairs. She stood up, shaking her head. “When did all these people get here?” Harry turns to her. “Just a few minutes ago! Here, let me introduce you to everyone. There’s Tom Jenkins he owns the toy shop in town.” he leads her down, introducing her.

Tom turns with a smile. “Oh! Good afternoon Miss!” he bows his head to her, and she smiles fondly “Jenkins? As in John Jenkins?” Tom nods, and (Y/N) grins “he was friends with my father! It’s good to know the business was passed down so kindly. I’m (Y/N).” She pats his shoulder. Harry seems even happier that (Y/N) said something nice, first.

“A pleasure to meet you too! Ms. (Y/N)!” This is followed by Harry dragging (Y/N) to a few new people…well, a lot of new people!. “(Y/N) this is Bob Cratchit! He works for Scrooge.” Bob smiled warmly as he held a baby, “(Y/N)! Why that’s quite the name, lovely to meet you.” His wife smiled. “It’s a miracle we lasted this long on his doorstep. I expected him to throw us out by now. Ethel.”

She smiled, about to say something when her arm was grabbed. “(Y/N)! I didn’t know you were back!” “Neither did I!” they dragged her toward them. The green-dressed woman hugs her while the red-dressed one pats her. “I would have introduced them, but I guess you already know them!” Their joyous demeanors rubbed off on the other guests.

The laughter fills the air gently, and soon they begin talking amongst themselves once more. “Look at your face, you still look as young as you did all those years ago.” (Y/N) blushed and laughed. The other lady grabbed her face gently. “It was always rough not having such a charitable heart here. We missed you.” Harry’s smile never leaves his face, and he decides to ask.

“(Y/N) how do you know these kind women?” (Y/N) turned to the brunette man, and she smiled. (Y/N)’s laughter was exchanged for her voice speaking absen-mindedly. “oh yes, I met these two in my old town. Where they were also donating.” The ladies laughed, full of seasonal joy.

Their laughter died down, and the ladies gently held her hands. “So, (Y/N) tell us about that delightful husband of yours!” (Y/N) forgot she was supposed to talk about her husband. So she immediately slumped, Harry, already knowing the answer, went back to his wife quickly.

(Y/N) spoke quietly, her smile falling into a frown. “Three springs ago, he passed away in his sleep. From an incurable disease.” The ladies lost their smiles almost instantaneously. They grab (Y/N) once more and hug her.

The warmth of their hug brings a small smile back to (Y/N)’s face. “I’m so sorry dear.” “Widowed! At such a young age!” She hugged them back, ignoring that her age had been misplaced. “(Y/N) remember you can always come to us if you’re ever in any sad time. Okay?``said the one in the red dress.

The smell of food stole most people’s attention. They turned and there walked a few people holding food for catering. They all stared in awe, a few getting a closer look, and when (Y/N) was released she walked up to one with a dish that used to warm her up inside and out.

“Syllabub? That’s an old favorite of mine. Oh! Figgy pudding!” She heard Harry’s voice from the top step, everyone turning to meet his gaze. “Are we ready everyone?” Everyone agrees that it’s time to get inside, except for (Y/N) who simply shakes her head.

Harry grins, and turns to the door, and yet he doesn’t move. Hela quickly pressed the bell herself, Harry deflating. He reinflates as he sees his wife’s excited expression, and they both look at the door with determined expressions. In fact, everyone seemed confused, and/or nervous.

It takes a while for the doors to open, so they focus on their own things once more. (Y/N) wringing her hands in thought, not bothering to walk back up to the top of the stairs, so she stands on the ground. The door is opened, and the familiar face peers down at the people. Gesturing for them to come inside.

Scrooge’s face had aged, his hair now almost completely gray, and his sideburns now framing his face. (Y/N) follows the others inside. Scrooge sees (Y/N), and can't help but smile. Once everyone is inside, dinner begins.

Everyone sits in their seats. Ebenezer helped Ethel relax in her seat. (Y/N) stands looking at the wall decorations, and all the food. She felt weary of so many colors. She sees gifts while resting at the table.

Tom is more curious than her because he opens his, and has a pleasant surprise when Ebenezer tells him that all his debts are canceled. The ladies and Harry open their thoughtful gifts. 1000 pounds for each lady and his mother's doll.

(Y/N) rubs her arms, not expecting her own gift, especially because she came without warning, but seeing these gifts made her wonder. She has no time to think before Bob Cratchit opens his. Business partners?

Scrooge stood over him and smiled “yes, Bob, if you have me that is. Let's build a brighter future for the Cratchits together, what do you say?” Bob looks up at him with a grin. “I say yes!” He and the rest of his family are overjoyed. Scrooge allows them to talk amongst themselves, turning to (Y/N) for a moment. Then he goes to the front of the table.

(Y/N) raises a brow as he begins talking again. She partially listens, but only makes certain words out. His words are definitely chosen carefully, and he had to have practiced such a speech at least twice. From what (Y/N) has seen Ebenezer has changed. She's proud, and yet nervous, like meeting someone new.

Harry waved for her to come closer. She begrudgingly walks up to the table. An awkward small smile on her face. A small boy raised a glass, full of milk, as he was finishing his final statement. Raising his glass of wine into the air imitating the boy. “God bless us! Everyone!” yelled the boy.

There was a cheer, and everyone began eating. (Y/N) only grabbing a glass of syllabub, and making her way out of the room again. Hoping someone would follow her. She was still surprised when someone did. She stopped on the balcony of the steps.

“(Y/N)? Is everything alright?” the voice struck (Y/N)’s ears suddenly. She nods gently leaning on the railing. Gesturing for the voice to join her. When he did, she looked up at him.

She giggled softly. “It's so strange, after all these years seeing your face and you being…different…again.” her head drops when she says again. Looking down at the ground below her. Scrooge moves a hand to touch her back to comfort her, but puts his hand down again when (Y/N) lifts her head.

Scrooge places his hands down on the railing and squeezes gently. “(Y/N), there are not enough words to describe how sorry I am. Truly.” he looks at her, a drift of wind causing her to shiver. Almost instinctively he takes off his coat and places it on her. She quietly laughs.

She looks at her old friend. “Well, then use the words you can to tell me what happened. Why must you continue changing so quickly?” (Y/N) speaks quickly. She fixes her posture as she holds the coat around her body. Scrooge smiles at her. “It's so much I don't want to go through again.” she huffs.

The two sit in silence for a while longer. The tense air is lifted when there's music coming from the other room. Scrooge quickly looks in the direction of the room, an old urge resurging. He relaxes, and his rurs are back on (Y/N).

(Y/N)’s eyes widen, and without warning she grabs his cheek. She pulls him down to face her. She smiles gently as she sees his eyes. His face is flushed, she lets him go, her face now a few shades darker. “Apologies Mr. Scrooge.” Scrooge wines at the name. He gently grabs her wrist and rubs his thumb on it.

His hand is gentle, she stares at it for a moment. “Please, call me Ebenezer.” (Y/N) is taken aback at how desperate he sounds. She takes his hand into her own, then lets it go. Turning back to the wooden railing. “Ah, Yes. Ebesneezer.” a smile taking her expression. Scrooge raises a brow.

Ebenezer steps closer to her. “I read your letter. A miracle it was damaged like any other.” (Y/N) slaps his elbow gently in offense. He chuckles. She's silent, processing his words. “THE LETTER? What letter? The letter I gave to you when we…oh dear.” She rests her chin on her palm.

The two look to one another, “did you mean what you said..? Out loud and in your letter.” Ebenezer takes a step closer. (Y/N) stands still, pulling at her bonnet. “Yes…no? It’s been so long.” The man notices her bonnet. He smiled at it, and (Y/N) smiled at it too, taking it off. She held it in her hands.

Ebenezer’s eyes seem to light up at your face. He walks closer. “Whether you mean it now, or you don’t “I want you to know…I…I” he stops in his tracks. (Y/N) steps closer. “You? You what?” A hopeful feeling enters her chest.

Ebenezer clears his throat. “Every day when I wake up, I think about you. Every morning, noon, and night, from sunrise to the next full moon. You’ve meant more to me than most others.” He recites. (Y/N)’s eyes grow wide, and she stares up at him. “To put it plainly. I…” their eyes meet. Ebenezer grabbing (Y/N)’s hands as he takes a deep breath. “I love you too (Y/N)”

Relief. Weight falls off (Y/N)’s shoulders, like heavy chains tying her to the ground. The air is lighter, the colors are brighter, and her mind is clearer. She would jump for joy if she wasn’t in front of an old friend in a serious situation. “That’s…I…I love you too!” She says with a giddy laugh.

She holds her head. “Ye gods, this feels like a dream!” She admits squeezing Ebenezer’s hands tightly. He laughs as (Y/N) holds her head in deliriousness. She stops smiling when she realizes. “If that’s the case. That means if I stayed I could’ve helped you. If I stayed you wouldn't have. Oh…Humbug!” She holds her head. Ebenezer places a gentle hand on her cheek.

“(Y/N), my dear, the past is the past. We’re now here, in the present.” His other hand holds her waist. (Y/N)’s face contorts in her sadness, caressing his hand on her face. Her opposite holding his upper arm. Their eyes meet. He leans down to her, she closes her eyes, tilting her head. Their lips meet gently.

A giggle, but this time followed by a deep chortle stops (Y/N). “Did you hear that?” He looks around. Shaking his head. She looks up at him, and smiles. “Must be my imagination.” Ebenezer allows her to enter first, looking around the empty home. He then follows her.

“Good job Scrooge.” A feminine says from above. A deep laugh follows. “Good job indeed.” A flurry of fire and giggling elves and the room is silent once more.

The end.

[pacifymebby]

Center of Gravity // Bonnie Gold

Part 2

It wasnt that far back to the settlement but by the time Bonnie had carried you back your fringe was beginning to dry, your long dark hair still dripping water like rain onto the rest of you. But the whisps which hung over your brow were beginning to dry and catch the breeze.

"Hope youre gonna keep that promise little dove," breathed Bonnie the slight anxoety in his voice making you giggle as the two of you emerged from the edge of the woodlands close enough to the wagons and the fires to be seen.

And of course the moment the younger boys saw you they started shouting for you.

"Bonnie did ye catch her did ye?" "Did she give ye a kiss?" "Ewww Bonnie kissed y/n!"

And then of course all their commotion got the attention of your families, in particular your father's.

When Bonnie saw the look on your fathers face he swallowed a lump in his throat knowing full well that unless you turned out to be a better liar now than you were as a child, he was completely and utterly for it.

He placed you down on the ground gently, about to let go of you when to his surprise you grabbed his hand and put his arm back around your shoulder.

It was cold despite the sun being out and you were beginning to feel the chill. That and you were nervous. You had a feeling you were about to wind up the two of you in a fair bit of trouble, unless you could lie to your father.

Bonnie had always said you were a bad liar and you knew it was true.

"It looks like our Bonnie threw y/n in the river..." started your father, a frown on his brow that set the fear of god in Bonnie and, if you were being honest, your own heart skittering nervously.

"'s not how it happened Da, Bonnie saved me!" you said quickly, your voice escaping you with enough urgency but not enough strength for your father to believe you.

"Oh he saved ye did he?" chuckled Aberama waving one of Bonnies sisters over with towels to dry you off.

"Well not exactly da..."

"He did," you said a little more convincingly this time because technically you weren't actually telling a lie, "i fell in..."

"We were being stupid Harry, it was my fault I'm sorry..." saod Bonnie, one hand scratching the back of his neck a little sheepishly.

"Why am i not surprised eh? How many times do i have to tell ye eh? You be careful with my little girl..." you watched your father point his finger accusingly at Bonnie but you could see the light in his eyes and knew your friend didnt really have anything to worry about.

"Sorry Harry, wont happen again i.."

"Aye it will," your father dismissed the poor lad before he could finish his sentence, "it will lad but ah well, whats the harm, as long as ye bring her home safe to me, whats the harm.."

"Oh bloody hell y/n youre gonna catch your death!" cried your sister at the sight of you, her shriek making some of the younger kids riled up once again.

"Bonnie threw her in the river he did!" they giggled and shouted, "bet its cause she wouldn't kiss him!" "Bonnie threw y/n in the river cause she wouldny kiss him!"

With his arm around your waist still Bonnie felt you struggling to hold in your laughter, a grin acompamying his groan of frustration at the young lads chanting.

"Dont you bloody laugh an all!" he struggled not to laugh himself when he looked down at you and you turned to him with a bloody big mischievous grin on your pretty little face. But when he noticed the blue in your lips, your pale cheeks without colour to them, his smile dropped and a little frown knitted his brow.

Without thinking he brought his hand up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. You didn't move, just looked up at him blinking back with those doe eyes, frozen. He didnt notice that you were both of you still being watched. In that moment he'd forgotten that anyone else existed because you looked cold.

"Youre too cold Dove, your sisters right you'll catch your death, go inside and get dry..."

"Dont see you rushing to get dry..." you started about to argue back when he split a crooked grin and, with one hand to your shoulder, turned you round and pushed you gently towards your wagon.

"I said go get youself dry, go on..." he repeated watching as you wrapped your arms around yourself and finally did as you were told. He could tell the pout on your lips without you needing to turn round and show him, he recognised the huff of your shoulders when you hugged your arms like that.

He couldn't work out what had annoyed you though, or what exactly you had to sulk about just then.

"Youre quite capable of catchin cold too Bonnie Gold!" you called back to him over your shoulder, trying to pretend that you were just pissed off at him for womens equality reasons. But you weren't.

Actually you weren't pissed off at him at all. You were just disappointed. You loved his company so dearly that whenever you had to part even if only for a short ammount of time, you felt an aching dissapointment in you.

And that's what you felt now. What you were trying to hide with your jaggy remarks.

"Bonnie saved me da," your sister giggled the second youd closed the door behind you, "did he fuck.." she laughed at you when you hit her with a towel, splitting a grin and giggling too.

"Well I can't swim and he got me out of the river so you tell me if he saved me or not," you said unable to hold back laughing, the two of you didnt tend to keeo secrets because you could read eachother like a book.

"Aye but why were you in the river in the first place y/n"

"Did you no hear me or what?" you shot her a wink, grinning still as you began to undress and dry yourself.

You stepped out of your heavy skirt and let it fall in a sodden heap at your feet. You pulled your shirt over your head and dropped that too only to freeze amd snatch at a blanket when you heard scrambling and scratching outside your wagon.

"Oi! Get ye's gone away from there now! Go on whssht!"

You bit back a laugh when you recognised Bonnies voice shortly followed by little boys laughter and the pattering of feet.

As you dried yourself off and found some warmer clothes to wear you couldn't help but laugh thinking about the poor boys scarpering. As if Bonnie would actually ever hurt a single one of the kids. Still, it was nice he was so protective over you and it left a smile on your lips knowing that it was him out there protecting your dignity.

"Isnt he sweet," teased your sister, "so protective of his little dove," she giggled, biting down a real laugh when you kicked a shoe at her across the floor. "You're too cold dove, go inside," she carried on teasing until you were red in the face, worried that if youd been able to hear the boys outside, they could hear you. That bonnie might be able to hear you too.

"Whshht would ye!" you hushed her fighting with her to shut her up as you pulled on dry clothes.

You found an old sweater of your father's, one which had been knitted by your mother a long time ago, which had been handed down to you and treasured despite the holes which had been patched up terribly over the years by your sister.

Once you were warm and dressed you took your hairbrush and abandoned your sister in exchange for the fire. Of course she followed you anyway, still teasing you, half way through making another comment about Bonnie's devotional personality when you opened the vardo up to see none other than Bonnie sitting at the foot of your steps.

Your sister couldn't help herself, she burst out laughing, pleased to high heaven that he was proving her point without even realising.

He flushed a little, a slight pinkish hue to his pale features when he realised she was laughing at him.

"The lads were spyin on ye," he nodded to your wagon as if trying to explain yourself, "Reckon that Rye Palmers taken a fancy to ye y/n,"

"Aye hes not the only one," sniggered your sister taking you by the sleeve of your jumper and dragging you away to sit by the fire.

With you dressed and warming up Bonnie felt he could finally go and change himself. He was relieved to be able to disappear inside his vardo where he could finally be rid of his soaking wet clothes which had begun to catch him a chill whilst he was guarding you.

He did however feel a little jealous to be leaving you with your sister to brush your hair and put a blanket around your shoulders. That was something he wanted to be doing for you. Not just because it was his fault your hair was soaked and had bits of river weed in it, but also because it would give him another excuse to be near you, to touch you and sit closely with you. Hed be able to pay you his full attention and know that you were giving him yours too.

He knew he needed to get these thoughts out of his head, you didnt see him like that and one day you were going to be older, youd stop being his little dove and he'd have to distance himself from his best friend. Some other man would come along and steal you away from him. The thought made him bitter, made him feel all the more jealous and so when he finally did return to the fireside to warm himself up, his face was sullen.

His friends knew what the matter was and so did his father, but you had no idea and his frown painted a frown on your face too.

You didn't know what had gotten into him all of a sudden and you were about to call over to him, tell him to come and sit down with you so that you could ask, but when his eyes met yours across the fire, his frown fell away and smile broke out across his lips.

It was forced of course, you didnt know that but it was, Bonnie just couldnt stand to let you see him sulking like that. He wanted your whole world to be warm and full of happy things, never wanted his sweet dove to worry about anything, least of all him, so when hed seen you looking at him with a frown of your own hed pushed a smile from beneath his gloomy mood and shot you a wink to make you blush.

"Here Lina I'll finish that for ye," he said to your sister as he pushed himself up from his seat with his friends. As he left he heard one of them make a teasing comment. He turned quick as lighting and knocked the hat from their head with a cheeky laugh of his own. Your giggling ringing out behind him made him swell with pride and when he sat by your side and took the brush from your sister, he couldnt keep the pleased little smile off his lips.

"reckon this is my job tonight little dove, since its my fault like," he said quietly in your ear. His lips brushed your ear as he spoke and the feeling of his warm breath on your cold skin sent a warm current through your veins.

"Whsht Bonnie," you smiled "dont let me da hear ye say anythin like that... He'll swing for ye..."

At that Bonnie chuckled and settled down, concentrating on your hair, scooping it up away from your neck which he resisted the urge to bow to and kiss.

These little instinctive thoughts were growing stronger by the day and he was beginning to get nervous you could tell how he felt.

He sat with his knees up, horizontal to you so that you could lean back against him as he combed the brush through your long hair. Every now and then he'd wrap it all in a towel and squeeze the water out of it before going back to carefully brushing it again.

"Have you much work to do tomorrow?" he asked you absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair as he untangled it and picked out little pieces of twig and leaves.

"Depends if me da decides am to be punished for falling in that river doesnt it," you hummed with a cheeky smile knowing hed do nothing of the sort.

"Sorry dove, i shouldn't have done it, was stupid of me," he started apologising, falling into your trap so that you laughed twice as hard. "ey stop teasing me right i feel proper bad about it..."

"Don't," you said softer as your laugh died down and you settled back against his legs. You felt so comfortable there, so secure. He was being gentle with you, almost tender and his touch left you with a warm glow in your tummy and your cheeks you couldnt mistake for anythin but what it was... Love.

"Don't feel bad Bonnie, i wasn't lying when i said you saved me..."

"Shouldn't have needed saving," he said again letting you know you wouldnt be able to argue it with him anymore.

"Bonnie?" you asked as a yawn escaped you, his careful touch was relaxing you a little too much, you were exhausted and as the sun was setting and the air was cooling, you felt yourself growing weary and sleepy.

"yes dove?"

"Can you plait it?" you asked. You weren't sure hed know how but you seen him helping with some of the younger girls hair before when their mother's were busy with the babies so you were hopeful.

"Can't guarantee it will be as pretty as when you do it but I'll try my best," he smiled, his voice soft with sleep too.

He knew why you were asking; if he plaited it you wouldnt have to wait too long for it to be dry enough that you could go to bed and not catch cold in the night. But, he also wanted to believe it an excuse for him to stay with you longer, for you to get to share that close, almost intimate time together for just a little longer. And again, he knew he needed to stop thinking that way but it was difficult.

Not when he wanted it to be the truth as badly as he did.

By the time he was finished you were almost asleep. He could feel your body weight leaning back against him. The fires were ebbing out but in the remaining sparks your cheeks glowed a warm, sleepy shade of red. You felt so cosy and safe there with him, felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be, and although you needed your bed, the last thing you wanted to do was part from your friend. It was like there was some mysterious force which dragged you towards him. The same force which kept you both rooted to the earth, pulling you into him too.

Bonnie thought looked adorable, your droopy eyelids struggling to stay open. He wanted nothing more than to stay there with you longer but he knew that what you needed then was your bed.

"c'mon little dove, off to bed with ye," he said helping you to your feet, letting you lean into his side as he put an arm around you and walked you the short distance to your vardo.

He dreamed of the day he didnt have to leave you at the door. Of the day he could close the door behind him and crawl into your shared bed beside you.

The thought came on so strong then that it physically hurt him to swallow down and ignore it. The yearning to be more than just a friend to you so overwhelming he didnt know what to do with himself.

All he did was all he could do. Say good night to you, give your hand a squeeze before letting you go.

Not even a kiss on the cheek to tide him over until the morrow. When you stepped away from him he felt the cold occupy the space youd been, his body feeling a little off balance as if his whole center of gravity had been shaken by you. In many ways he supposed, that was true.

Part 3

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Halloween!!!!! i love draco and the twins shenanigans!!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22

The downside to the plan is that in order for it to work that have to, unfortunately, tell Harry about it.

“I can’t kill someone!” he shouts, skipping right over the bit about a piece of Voldemort’s soul being stuck in him, because he really has no sense of priorities.

“Uh,” George says, clearly thinking the same thing he is.

“You were planning on killing Voldemort,” Draco points out. “Clearly you’re not opposed to killing.”

Harry’s face goes red and then there’s more shouting. “That’s different! Voldemort is evil!”

Merlin save them all. “Okay, so we’ll find you someone evil to kill then. Does that make you feel better?”

“No!” he snaps, but at this point Draco gets the impression that he’s just disagreeing with them for the sake of it.

Fred is giving him a really bitchy I-told-you-so face, which Draco doesn’t appreciate at all. “Look, Harry, there are plenty of evil people that could use some killing. How about Bellatrix Lestrange?”

“Uh,” Ron says, “isn’t that like. Your aunt?”

He waves a dismissive hand. “If you’re not willing to kill someone who’s evil just because they’re related to me, that really narrows down our options. Come on, it’ll be good for you. Therapeutic. Think of it as a gift for Longbottom.”

“It’s not that easy to kill someone!” Harry shouts.

Draco doesn’t know what his face looks like, but it must be saying a lot, because Ron narrows his eyes and demands, “Have you killed someone?”

“Well, yes,” he admits, “but I used a gun, not a spell. This will be much less messy, probably.”

“You used a gun?” Hermione screeches and Draco rubs his forehead.

Explaining things to them is exhausting, which is why he generally recommends they don’t. This horcrux business is getting more inconvenient by the second.

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

Yn to the freshman: I’ve flicked the bean sm because of the man you will not be getting any real action before me

The freshman: 👁👄👁

“Monica, hey. You caught me just in time, I was about to leave. How can I help you?”

“Hey, Harry!” The young woman steps to the side to allow Harry to finish exiting his office, watching intently as he locks the door behind him and tucks the keys into the front pocket of his tan slacks, fixing his glasses on his nose before giving her his full undivided attention. He gives her an anticipatory glimpse, silently egging her to state her business outside of his door, and the way in which he gazes down at her over the crests of his cheekbones makes the tips of Monica’s ears burn. His cool and collective personality can be so fucking intimating. “I was actually wondering if we could maybe get together sometime soon, I could really use some help with my term paper! There’s some things I’m still unclear about and I was hoping you could shed some light on those areas.”

“Did you look at the rubric?”

“I did, but I just wanna double-check in case I misunderstood anything.”

“Fair enough. Prevention is better than damage control.” Harry slips his bag over his torso, settling it along the outer part of his thigh with an empty thud. “My office hours are posted on the portal and on my door, you can drop by any time and I’ll be happy to clarify whatever you need.”

“Oh, um, I— I was actually hoping we could maybe do it over coffee? If you’re available, of course.”

Harry raises an eyebrow skeptically, the edges of his lips quirking into an unenthusiastic grimace. “Coffee?

The freshman begins to fiddle with the notebook in her hands, struggling to keep eye contact under his scrutinizing behavior. “Yeah! Maybe on campus, or at that cute café in the outdoor mall that opened up last summer? The Avalon, I think it’s called.”

He pauses for a moment, proceeding to clear his throat softly as he adjusts the strap of his bag over his shoulder, tone blasé and logical. “Don’t see why we’d need to do all that for a tutoring session.”

The young woman’s arms tighten around her books as she tries to regulate her nerves. “Oh, I was just…I just thought—”

“I’m more comfortable in my office. That way, we can go down the hall and ask the prof any questions that I might not be able to answer.” He remarks with blunt finality, cocking his head towards the closed door of his designated room, referencing the paper taped at the center of the frosted glass window. “Again, office hours are on my door and posted on the portal. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m about to go on my lunch break, so I’ll see you in class on Friday. Don’t forget to do the online quiz, and email me if you have any more questions. Have a nice day.”

Y/N, who’d been observing the exchange from around the corner of the wall, actively bites into her tongue to keep from sputtering into laughter. A wave of twisted satisfaction surges through her chest as she watches Harry turn his back on the girl with a curt nod goodbye, pacing directly towards her with an emotionless aura about his nature, as if he’s already forgotten Monica’s existence. The student’s face pinches into a hurt expression over his shoulder, and she finally peels away towards the other end of the building, clearly dejected and irked by his cutthroat rejection. Y/N finds herself feeling a bit guilty for finding pleasure in the awkwardness of the exchange. She’s happy he’d turned her down, because indirectly, it means he’s probably not interested in pursuing anyone else except her, but she’s always been prone to empathizing with others, so she can imagine the dent the entire situation must have left on Monica’s confidence.

Y/N dismisses her thoughts as Harry finally meets her at the end of the corridor, opting for repenting later when she’s has the time to spare.

He greets her with an airy smile, his demeanor much less harsh and clinical than it’d been a few seconds prior. “Ready for lunch?”

Y/N returns his gesture with a gentle grin of her own, nodding delicately as she falls into step beside him, heading for the exit of the liberal arts building in route to the university’s cafeteria. “Gotta admit, that was kinda hot.”

Harry’s features peak with mystified curiosity at her unexpected compliment, utterly lost on what he’d done to deserve it. “What was?”

She juts her head back over her shoulder in a motion that highlights the scene that had unfolded earlier, and she can’t stop her mouth from curling smugly at the fact that she’s one of the only people who gets to enjoy Harry’s company off campus. “The way you turned her down. It was very technical and prompt. Points for professionalism.”

Recognition slowly dawns across Harry’s appearance, his dimples winking awake. “You were eavesdropping?”

“I happened to be in the area and accidentally overheard the convo.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what happened.” He replies playfully, absently drumming the pads of his fingers along the thick strap of the bag hanging off his body. He reverts back to her initial topic, shrugging one shoulder casually as he unconsciously matches her stride, his voice indifferent and dismissive. “It wasn’t hard, to be honest. I don’t sleep with students.”

Y/N blinks blankly at his contradictory statement. “We’re all students here, Harry.”

“Right, let me rephrase: I don’t sleep with my students.”

“Mm, smart. Prevents bias.”

“Precisely. S’not fair to score higher on an assignment just because you’re deepthroating the TA on weekends, is it?”

“Not fair at all.”

“It keeps things clean cut and simple. I don’t like drama, especially not when it comes to my degree. Don’t really feel like getting expelled.”

She gives him an understanding nod, allowing a couple of silent beats to suspend between them for a moment, the only sound being the echoing steps of their shoes. Then, she speaks up again, her words a low, curious mumble. “Is that the only reason you rejected her?”

Harry shoots her a knowing glance, mood sarcastic and jesting. “I think we both know the answer to that, Dickinson.”

“Do we?”

“Yeah. We do.”

“I don’t think I do, actually. I might need you to clarify, Socrates.”

He sighs lightly through his nose, extending his arm forward as they reach the glass door of the building, tugging it open and stepping to the side for her to pass first. “Are you really gonna make me say it?”

Y/N halts before the threshold of the exit, refusing to move even a smidge, a cocky smirk stringing across her lips as she stands there and waits for him to cave under her whims. “Absolutely.”

Harry rolls his eyes grandly, running his tongue over his top teeth and pushing it against the inside of his cheek, contemplating her with a deadpan look and an apathetic vein under his next comment. “Are you serious right now? What are you, five?”

“And a half.” She jokes arrogantly, crossing her arms over her chest as she begins tapping the toe of her converse expectantly, not intending to budge anytime soon. “So I suggest you elaborate on what you meant, or we’ll be here all day. And I suggest you hurry; I heard The Pavilion has those chicken fajita wraps you like and they always run out quick.”

The young man sighs again, the exhale rough and irritated this time around, though she can detect a faint glimmer of amusement glinting beneath the glossy surface of his glasses. He scoffs dramatically in mild disbelief, and then forfeits the validation she’s obviously seeking. “Student rule aside, I rejected her because I have no immediate interest in pursuing a relationship right now.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because I’m seeing someone. Sort of.”

“Are you, now?”

“Mmhm.”

“So you rejected her because you like someone else?”

Harry’s presses his lips into a thin line to keep them from spreading into a smitten smile. “‘Like’ is a strong word. ‘Tolerate’ is more appropriate.”

“Alright, so you said no because you tolerate someone else?”

He gives her body a swift, objectifying once-over, shrugging his brows suggestively. “Unfortunately.”

Y/N’s cheeks simmer at his thinly-veiled innuendo. “Interesting.”

“Is it?”

“It is.”

“Are we done here? Can I go get my wrap now, before I starve to death and end up as a dissection cadaver for the anatomy lab students?”

After giving him one more cheeky look, she finally caves, stepping through the opened door and regaining their path towards the food court at the center of their campus. “I suppose.”

Harry follows behind her, the irony in his voice carrying over her shoulder. “How generous of you to give me permission to go on with my life. Very ethical.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it when I boss you around. I bet you’re hard right now, aren’t you?”

“Maybe just a bit.”

[vendettaparker]

Peanut Butter and Extra Jelly [T.H]

Summary: Tom’s long time crush on you becomes painful when you and Harrison are cast as love interests in a movie. 

Paring: Tom Holland x Actress!Reader 

Word Count: 5.8k

Warning: Suggestive themes, fake smut (very light), jealousy, probably some typos, swearing 

a/n: i have no idea how filming a movie, or auditioning for one actually goes so don’t crucify me for this. i’m pretty happy with how this turned out, especially considering that this is the most i’ve ever written for a fic. also, Burt Kreisher is one of my fav comedians in real life, he has 3 shows on neflix and a mini series.  

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     Tom was not a jealous person. At least, that's what he always told himself. He prided himself in thinking he was a very level headed individual who didn’t let his emotions get the best of him. That worked best for his job anyways; always being able to control his emotions and not get in his own head. That simple, pacifistic mindset seemed to change when it came to you. 

      You were one of the many actors Tom got the pleasure to help hone their technique and work closely with. You were new to the lifestyle of Hollywood and the only roles you had before were in small indie films that never garnered too much attention. The first major role that you landed, which also happened to help kickstart your career, was in the MCU. You played the secondary villain in the third Spider-man movie. 

     Meeting the cast was a dream come true; they were all extremely helpful and they provided tons of tips and tricks in navigating the hectic schedule required for such a huge production. By the time filming wrapped up, you were considered part of their little Spider-man family. 

     Tom was easily the most helpful. Whenever he saw you struggling with anything, he offered to help. You two spent hours upon hours together in his trailer, ordering take out and practicing lines. Some nights you two planned to work through your script, but inevitably ended up falling asleep binge watching The Office, and laughing about crazy shit that happened on set that day. 

     When the movie wrapped up and you went home for a month before the press tour, you were completely unsure and nervous about what direction your career was going in. You auditioned for a few new movies, but had yet to hear from any of the directors about casting decisions. You kept in touch Tom during the month you were apart and expressed your concerns. 

     “I don’t know, Tom. I’m just so sick of waiting around and hoping that some director out there throws me a bone, ya know’?” You said on facetime, while making cookies. 

     “Yeah, I totally understand that, (Y/N/N). I had that issue a couple years ago before the Marvel movies. Trust me, you did outstanding in that role and once it gets noticed I’m positive you’ll have directors calling you, begging for you to audition.” Tom smiled warmly into the camera as he walked around his apartment in London. 

      “Yeah, easy for you to say, movie-star.” You giggled, turning your face away from the camera in hopes that Tom wouldn’t notice the blush his compliments painted onto your cheeks 

     “I’m serious! You were outstanding! Like in that one scene where you—” 

      “Tom! Tessa chewed a hole in my trousers again!” A voice came from outside of the frame, “Mate, you gotta get her to stop doing that somehow.” 

     Tom sighed, and waved his hand dismissively at the figure, “Okay, sure. I’m busy right now.” Tom looked back to the camera, “anyways, as I was saying, don’t stress about not having a new project yet, (Y/N)—” 

     “(Y/N)?” The other voice whisper-yelled. “Let me say hi!”, suddenly the phone was yanked out of Tom's hands and the video shook around a bit as Tom wrestled to get it back. Finally, the camera stilled and Harrison was on the other end smiling. “Hi, (Y/N)!” 

     “Oh, hi Harrison!” You smiled back, laughing. You'd met Harrison a few times when he visited Tom on set. “How are you?” 

     The camera started moving around more as the background behind Harrsion whizzed past. You assumed Tom must’ve been chasing him to get the phone back. 

     “I’m good! I just auditioned for a new movie. You should audition too! The main female lead’s description looks just like you.” He exclaimed, running past the kitchen to his room. 

     “Oi! Give me my phone back you div!” You heard Tom yelling in the background, no doubt in hot pursuit of Harrison. 

     “I don’t know, I'm not sure I’m prepared for a lead role.” You sighed, “What’s the movie called? I’ll look into it.” 

     “It’s called ‘Collateral Damage’, it’s a spy movie.” Harrison said, shutting the door to his room, while Tom pounded on it from the other side. “Yeah, it’d be really fun working with you. Tom constantly talks about how much fun you are on set.” Harrison wheezed out, trying to catch his breath. 

      “Aw, that’s sweet of him.” You laughed. “Well I’ve got to go. Just tell Tom he can call me tomorrow or something.” You waved at the camera. “Bye!”

     “Yup, bye.” Harrison said right before the video cut out. 

      Harrison finally opened the door to a seething Tom. Tom grabbed the phone back from Harrison and noticed that the call had ended. 

     “Dude! Why would you do that?” Tom whined. 

     Harrison just patted Tom’s back, “Sorry, mate. She said she had to go, though. I was about to give the phone back.” 

     Tom huffed and sulked for a moment. “Whatever, I’ll just call her later, I guess.” 

     Harrison nodded and smirked at how whipped Tom was. “You should just ask her out if you’re so desperate for her attention.” Harrison teased. 

     “Shut up. I’m not desperate for her attention, I just like her voice and her personality, and the way she talks, and her funny sayings, and how her hair looks when she just woke up.” 

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     It was only a few days later when you received an email from the director of the movie Harrison told you about, asking for you to audition. You were ecstatic, Harrison must’ve already sent in some things about you since the director seemed adamant that you were of high interest for the role. 

     You called Tom immediately to share the good news. 

     He picked up after the third ring, “Hello, darling! How are you?” he beamed when he answered your call. He usually was the one to call you so he felt a sense of pride knowing that you were calling him for once. 

     “Tom! The director of the movie Harrison auditioned for just emailed me asking for me to audition!” You squealed excitedly. 

     “Really? That’s wonderful, love! Harrison just got the part of the lead too, so you’d be filming with him if you got it.” 

     “That’s so exciting, I’m flying to London for the audition in two days. Are you still there?” You pulled the phone away from your ear and switched it to speaker. “I’m booking the flight right now.” 

     “Yeah, I’ll be in London for another week and a half. Then we have the press tour starting in Japan.” Tom said, also switching to speaker phone to look at his calendar. “You can stay with Harrison and I while you’re here. Since we have to go to Japan together anyways.” Tom offered nervously. He really wanted you to stay in his flat with him. It’d be all cute and domestic, and maybe, just maybe, he’d spend enough time with you to not feel nervous about asking you on a date. If he was lucky, that is, but awaiting your reply he was a jittery ball of nerves. 

     “Yeah, that sounds wonderful. I won't be intruding though, right?” You said, smiling from ear to ear. Thank god you weren’t on facetime and Tom couldn’t see the stupid smile adoring your features. 

     “No, of course not. Harry will be so excited to see you. And Tessa too, she really misses you.” Tom shuffled around with his phone, shooting a quick text to Harrison letting him know you were coming to stay for a week. 

     “Ok, thanks so much, this is really thoughtful of you. I absolutely can’t wait to see you!” You gushed, finalizing your purchase of a one-way ticket to London. “K, the flight is at 2:30 pm here, it’s about 9 and a half hours, but you’re also ahead of me, so I’ll be in around..5?”

     “Yeah, that sounds right to me,” Tom chuckled, “I’ll come pick you up. I’ll wear my incognito disguise.” 

     “If you mean that stupid t-shirt you got that says ‘I’M NOT A CELEBRITY’, then maybe I’ll ask Harrison to come pick me up…”

     “That’s cold (Y/L/N).” 

     You giggled softly, “I’m sorry, Tommy. If it makes you feel better, that shirt isn’t as bad as that stupid blue beanie that you never wear correctly.”

     “How the fuck would that make me feel better? You’re killing me, (Y/N/N).” 

     You laughed at his over dramatic reaction, “Sorry that you’re a sensitive babe. I gotta go now, see you soon!” You hung up before Tom could respond with a sassy quip. Then immediately after you received a text:

Tommy: The second you get here I’m bout to 👊 

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     Tom called Harrison up after you got off the phone, he needed to make sure his best friend wouldn’t say or do anything to embarrass him in front of you. 

     “Tom, don’t you think this is a bit obsessive? I mean, she’s only staying with us for a week and you already know her so well from spending all that time filming with her.” Harrison sighed, sick of listening to Tom ramble about every possible embarrassing situation he could be put in, in the coming week. 

     “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. It's no big deal. But don’t mention that time I accidentally shit my pants at the club, or that time I got hit in the head with a golf ball ‘cus I got distracted by a flock of geese, or that time a got chased by a flock of geese, or—”

     “Geez, mate. At this point we might as well not even talk to her.” Harrison chuckled, thinking of all the stories he could bring up about Tom around the dinner table with you. Tom really was just a walking ball of embarrassing moments. 

     “Stoppp ittt,” Tom whined, “when we were on set it was usually just the cast and Harry around, but you? You could do some real fucking damage to my love life, Haz.” 

     “What love life?” Harrison barked out, laughing. 

     Tom then hung up and began praying to whatever god was out there that this week could go by without a hitch, and then you and him would be on your way, together, to Japan. 

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     The whole week spent in London actually went really well, especially the audition. Tom and Harrison both accompanied you for moral support, well Harrison actually had to be there to be your scene partner, but it was still nice knowing he supported you. 

     The director shook your hand and you went through the normal formalities before beginning your scene with Harrison. It was a quick scene with a monologue in it. The main premise of the movie was all about choosing love over work, especially in dangerous, life-threatening scenarios. The scene you used to audition with Harrison was the scene where the main character, Lincoln, and his lover interest, Mallory, were arguing, trying to push each other away to keep each other safe. The scene had a lot of raw emotion that you were able to tap into, and the directors gave your performance a standing ovation once the scene concluded. 

     They said that they’d get back to you within the next few days, but they also mentioned how the chemistry between you and Harrison was off the charts, leaving you hopeful. Tom and Harrison both gave you hugs and pats on the back. Tom had watched the whole scene unfold and he was in complete and utter awe of your talent. Part of him was annoyed that he didn’t audition for the movie and a chance as your love interest. But Harrison deserved this big break and so did you, so he was hopeful of the outcome being something that benefitted both of his best friends. 

    After the audition the rest of the week went by nearly perfectly. The real kicker was when Tom’s family invited you and Harrison to join them for dinner. Tom had not anticipated his mom asking you to come to family dinner, so he wasn’t able to stop the embarrassing anecdotes his mom told on his behalf. 

     “Tom had the cutest little tush,” Nikki exclaimed, placing the old homemade scrapbook in your lap and flipping through a couple of pages. “See look,” she happily pointed to a picture of Tom as a toddler in a bath, surrounded by bubbles, his little bum poking through them. 

     Tom sat uncomfortably on the sofa next to you, cringing at the now 21 year old photo of him. He expected you to also cringe along, or worse case scenario, get up and make a flimsy excuse to leave his crazy family, but you just chuckled along with Nikki and continued making your way through the scrapbook, making little comments here and there. 

     “Oh, and this one,” Nikki said, pointing to a photo of Tom crying and Sam holding up a superhero action figure triumphantly, “that was Tom’s favorite toy, but when Sam saw how much Tom liked it, he made an effort to always be playing with it when Tom came into the room and he wouldn’t share.”

     You giggled at the little whiny face Tom made in the picture, and turned to him, replicating it on your face, making fun of him. Tom laughed along and playfully shoved you. He adored how well you seemed to fit in with his family and his feelings for you only multiplied. 

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     The week in London was one of the best in your life. You didn’t realize how much you missed Tom until you got to the airport and he was there waiting for you, unfortunately in his stupid blue beanie, and no, it wasn’t on right, his big ears poked out of it horrendously. 

     The last day you had in London before you and Tom went to Japan, you finally received a call about the audition. The director called you to congratulate you on getting the part, and he sent you numerous emails about scheduling, where to be, and when. Harrison was elated to have a familiar face playing his love interest on screen, and Tom was over the moon excited for you, this on top of the Spider-man movie coming out, you were certainly becoming a force to be reckoned with. 

     You spent the night celebrating at a club, Harry and Sam also showed up to party with you. The night was still young and the club was already packed and in full swing. Tom ordered two shots for each of you to start off the night before he was whisked away by a few fans to sign autographs. When he didn’t return you took it upon yourself to have his shots, giving you an extra edge to help spice up your night. 

     Harrison found Tom in the corner of the club talking to some fans. But throughout his whole time taking pictures with them, he couldn’t help but glance at you every once and a while. You looked so carefree and beautiful, dancing around in your shiny silver top and leather leggings. 

      “Tom.” Harrison interrupted Tom’s gawking and directed his attention to the small group of fans Tom was with. 

     Tom nodded and finished up his pictures and autographs before wishing them all a good and safe night. Once he reached you, you engulfed him in a bone crushing hug. 

     “Thank you for such a great time in London, Tommy.” you slurred, already feeling the impact of the four shots you took. “I had the best time of my whole life.” You pecked his cheek and pulled him close to dance with you. 

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     The following month or so on the press tour was a once in a lifetime experience. You travelled to more cities than you even knew the name of and you had all of your friends by your side. More so, you had motivation to remain approachable and well liked by fans considering that you were moving up in the industry. Some interviews were mostly for Tom, Zendaya, and Jacob. Your role in the movie was big enough for you to be needed for some interviews, and most people were genuinely interested in getting to know you, but there were also a handful of press activities that you weren’t included in, which you didn’t mind. 

     When you didn’t have anything to do for an hour or so, you would text Harrison and send him funny memes. He was quickly becoming one of your closest friends; you had already created a surplus of inside jokes with him just over the phone. 

     Tom noticed how you were always laughing at your phone or rapid fire texting. Even when you were being interviewed, Tom could faintly hear the buzz of your text message notifications going off. 

     “Tom,” you snapped in front of his eyes, “did you need something?” 

     “Huh?” Tom blinked a few times, “Uh—no, sorry.” Tom’s cheeks flushed pink, embarrassed for having been caught staring at you. He couldn’t help it though, you were dressed so pretty that day. You had your hair done up in two bubble braids and you wore his pink sweatshirt over your yellow sundress. 

     “Okay then.” You smiled at him. You went back to your phone, reading what Harrison had just texted you. “What was the name of that comedian we watched the other night?” 

     “The one on Netflix?” 

     You hummed out a yes, tapping away at your phone. 

     “Burt Kreisher, why?” Tom asked, leaning over to your chair to try and catch a glimpse of who you were texting. When he saw the contact name “Hazzy”, he couldn't stop the little angry pit of jealousy that started in his stomach. Sure, you were here with him now, not with Harrison, but when you two were apart you also texted him nonstop, and the texts seemed to all be inside jokes, which was something you also shared with him that he held near and dear.

     “I made a joke referencing him to Harrison and he didn’t get it. Fucking nerd.” You chuckled, texting Harrison a link to the skit you were referring to. 

     Tom chuckled along, but he couldn’t help but frown slightly at how bright your smile was when Harrison replied. 

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     The press tour and premiere of the movie seemed to go by lighting fast. You’d never been to a premiere for a production this big, and your nerves for the red carpet were starting to get to you. 

     You and Zendaya were stuffed into a hotel room with both of your respective teams, both trying to rapidly get both of you ready for the event. 

     “So when do you start filming for your next project?” Zendaya asked, she sat in front of a broadway-equse mirror, bright bulbs of light giving a luminescent glow to her already near flawless complexion. She hadn’t even finished her makeup yet and she was so pretty.  

     “In a month, I have to go back to London next week.” You said, sifting through the opinions you brought for dresses. You brought three options, just in case you changed your mind after seeing yourself in the dress. “Harrison and I are going to go over the scripts together and we were also told to go out in public a few times; for press and whatnot.” 

      “That’s exciting!” Zendaya mused, she glanced at the clock and gave her hairdresser some instructions about how much time she had to do hair. “It’s a good thing you guys are already friends. I remember when I filmed ‘The Greatest Showman’ I didn’t know many of the actors personally, so we had to go out together and do press all while being almost strangers. It was a bit nerve wracking.” Zendaya smiled at you fondly, she was like an older sister to you during this whole movie-making process, she constantly had your back. 

     “Yeah, I mean I’ll probably be in a situation like that at some point, but for my first lead role it’s nice to be working opposite a friend.” You smiled back, finally deciding on the red, sequined dress. 

     You both sat and worked through the makeup process in comfortable silence. 

     “So you and Tom…” Zendaya broke the silence and looked at you with a smirk on her face. 

     “What?” You looked at her with a dumbfounded look, before nervously laughing, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

     “Don’t play dumb, (Y/N/N).” She poked your arm and laughed, “He’s literally obsessed with you.” 

     You laughed at how ridiculous that sounded. A movie star, and very famous movie star at that, obsessed with you? You? Impossible. 

     “Yeah no, sorry but you got the wrong girl, babe.” You sighed, pulling out your phone to snap and selfie with her for your instagram story. You quickly snapped a pic of the two of you, her kissing your cheek, leaving a small, faint lipstick mark. “I mean it’d be nice,” you back tracked, “but I’m sure that’s just my wishful thinking.” 

     “What wishful thinking? I thought you were a pessimist?” Zendaya chuckled, taking her own photo with you to post later. 

     “I am, but I can’t help but indulge a bit.” 

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     Before you knew it, you were back in London, staying in a rented out flat for the next three to four months. Harrison was kind enough to come over to help you set up a work space, but he also offered you to spend most of your time at his place. Since Tom was in New York, doing interviews about the new Spider-man movie and having meetings with the Marvel Cinematic Universe team to try and gauge his future in the MCU, he wouldn’t be around for almost a month, so Harrison offered up Tom’s office when you needed to go over a scene by yourself and wanted a place that was already set up. 

     The days of filming seemed to go by in the blink of an eye. Most of your scenes were with Harrison, and he was the perfect scene partner. He rarely messed up, but if he did then he was quick to use it as an opportunity to improvise. His skills weren’t as well honed in like Tom’s, but it was obvious that their style ranged from a similar source. 

     The main thing about this movie that you were excited, but extremely nervous for, were the two sex scenes. The first one is at the beginning, where the two leads give in to each other for a night, then there's some implied stuff in between, and the last one is when the two leads part ways for the final time at the end of the movie. The first one had to be rough, fast, and needy, whereas the second one was direct to be more slow, thought out, and sensual. 

      Both were extremely stress-inducing to film. Harrison had also never done any scenes like this before, so he was on the same boat as you. Thankfully you had an amazing director and stunt coordinator to work with and with the help of other crew members, the scenes were mapped out so that it wasn’t too much improv or guessing on your part. 

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     The first intimate scene you shot actually happened to be the one at the end of the movie. That scene was more tame and dealt with more emotional subtexts than physical. Since you filmed that one first, you went into filming the next one with more confidence. It only took a few days to get the first scene down to perfection, so with this newfound confidence, it shouldn’t take too long to get the next one done. 

     On the days you shot intimate scenes, you only needed to wear the costume you wore before the scene and then you changed into a robe with nude underwear underneath. The bits with the outfit on before were already shot, so the director called a 30 minute break until you could begin shooting the actual sex part. 

     You were standing by the snack table, eyes scanning the table for any more muffins leftover from breakfast. The robe you wore made your skin prickle whenever a draft came onto set. 

     Just as you had found the muffin you were looking for, a pair of warm hands covered your eyes. 

     “Guess who!” An all too familiar warm, British accentuated, voice called. 

      You turned around in his arms, effectively nudging his hands from your face, and soon you were met with the warmest hazel eyes. Eyes that you missed so much this past month. 

      “Tommy!” You squealed and thrusted yourself into him in a hug. He immediately reciprocated it and wrapped your body in warmth. “What’re you doing here?” You asked once you let go of him. 

      “Harrison gave me the location so I could come watch you film. I just got home, like, two days ago.” Tom eyed you up and down, not realizing what little you had on. “Um—are you wearing anything under that?” He pointed up and down your figure. 

     “Nope, today and tomorrow we’re scheduled to film the sex scene.” You said casually, doing a silly twirl. Tom gulped. 

     “A s-sex scene?” He choked, “I didn’t know you guys had one.” 

     “Yup,” you smirked, “two actually, this is my first one ever, Haz’s too, I think. Well actually, we filmed the sex scene at the end of the movie last week.” 

     “Yeah… t-that’s cool.” Tom smiled weakly. 

     Right as you were about to continue your conversation with Tom, an arm swung over your shoulder and pulled you close. Harrison smiled at the both of you. He wore a similar robe to yours, except he left the front open. His plaid boxers on full display. 

     “Don’t listen to her, Tom. She’s a natural.” Harrison pinched your cheeks. Tom clenched his jaw at the comment. He knew Harrison hadn't meant to imply anything with it, but he couldn't help but hear the hidden meaning behind the otherwise innocent compliment. 

      You giggled and pushed his hand away, “Only ‘cus my scene partner is so darn cute.” You retaliated, poking and tickling his pecs. 

      This kind of goofy banter was normal between you and Harrison, but Tom hadn’t seen either of you in so long. He also had never seen you two interact so fluently with each other. He watched the interaction with a tight-lipped smile, nodding along and shrugging every once in a while to seem like he was paying attention. In reality though, he couldn’t pry his thoughts away from how close you were to Harrison. 

     “Ok everyone! Places! Let’s wrap this scene up and put it to rest today!” Your director called. You and Harrison smiled and waved goodbye to Tom. Harrison pointed to a chair in the room that had a nice view of the set where Tom could watch. Tom nodded and walked over to the chair, enthusiasm for watching you work completely dissipating. 

     The scene started off rough right off the bat. The second the director said ‘Action!’ you and Harrison were practically pouncing on each other. Harrison had you pressed up against the wall and you were both breathing heavily. He was leaving sloppy, wet kisses down your neck, then across your collar bones. Your moans, which Tom always imagined to sound like music to his ears, sounded too real for his liking. But no matter how much he tried to look away, his eyes were glued to the two bodies moving fluidly with one another. 

     “Cut! Cut!” The director yelled, effectively ending the scene. You and Harrison pulled apart and he gave you a peck on the cheek, as in saying ‘good job’. “That was good, but Harrison,” The blonde nodded, awaiting further instruction. “You gotta be a little rougher, hm?” 

     Harrison nodded along with the critique. “(Y/N)?” the director moved his attention to you, “would it be okay if Harrison marked you up? Just a few hickeys to really sell the illusion. We can do without, though, if you feel uncomfortable.” 

     Tom overheard the interaction and internally hoped that you were too uncomfortable for that, but deep down he knew you would do it. You were never the type to stray away from a challenge. 

     “Yeah, that’s fine.” You nodded, chest still heaving from the scene. You looked at Harrison. “Is that okay with you?” 

     Harrison nodded, a shy smile tugging at his lips. Yeah, you guys have been working at this scene for days now, but he’d never been rough enough to leave marks. He’d be lying if he said the thought didn’t invigorate him. 

     So the scene started from the top, you pressed up against the wall, all your weight shoved between the flimsy wall of the set and Harrison’s strong arms. Harrison did exactly as the director required, leaving noticeable dark spots across the top of your chest. Unlike your previous moans, which had just been for show, this new roughness in his actions tore real moans from your lips. 

     Tom sat uncomfortably in his chair, wishing he picked a different day to visit you on set. He shifted around, watching twin moans pull from both you and Harrison’s throat. He watched as you nipped at Harrison's ear as he faux thrusted into you. The jealousy that had pitted itself in his stomach soon turned to self-loathing. You looked really into the scene, he couldn’t help but feel like he was intruding. He knew you were a great actress, but he couldn’t believe that this was all acting. In his eyes, he believed that some part of you must wish that this was real. And part of you did like this scenario, but you wouldn’t have picked Harrison to be opposite you in this little fantasy. 

     Your moans and Harrisons both grew louder, leading up to the climax as scripted. Tom, not wanting to watch anymore exited the set quickly before he could watch the scene end. 

     You and Harrison finished up, gaining applause and praise afterwards from the director and crew members on set. 

     “Where’s Tom?” You asked, scrambling back into your robe and smoothing out your now roughed up hair. 

     Harrison, now noticing the absence of his best friend, began to feel a bit guilty. He knew Tom had a thing for you, maybe he should’ve told Tom not to visit set today. 

     “Um, (Y/N)?” He mumbled, pulling you aside slightly. 

     “Yeah?” You still looked around for Tom a bit, heart sinking when you realized that he must've left without saying goodbye. 

      “I shouldn’t be the one telling you this,” Harrison began, drawing your full attention, “but Tom really likes you. He always downplayed it, so I didn’t realize how much, but I think watching this scene might’ve upset him a bit.” Harrison looked towards the exit, no doubtedly where Tom left through, out into the parking lot. 

     “Oh—oh!” You gasped, feeling terribly for having put Tom in such an awkward position. “I didn’t know he felt the same.” You whispered, smiling softly to yourself. Guess Z was right after all. You pulled away from Harrison, “I’ll go talk to him.” 

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      Tom didn’t go far. He still wanted to be there to support you; he didn’t want to come off as a jealous prick, but he couldn’t keep watching that intimacy between you and his best friend. He sat on the curb outside of the building the set was built in. A few people passed him going to their designated buildings on the lot, but he didn’t pay any mind to them, too lost in his thoughts. He needed to tell you sooner rather than later how he felt. No time to be a pussy anymore. 

     “Tom?” You walked up next to his sitting figure, still only in a robe, tightly wrapped around you. He looked up to acknowledge you, mumbling a soft ‘Hey.’ before looking back down, trying to collect his thoughts and courage. It’s now or never. 

     You sat beside him and rested your head on his shoulder. “Harrison told me something interesting in there,” You paused for a moment before continuing, “about you.” 

     Tom’s head shot up, and he looked at you with frantic eyes, only imagining the worse. There were too many things Harrison could’ve told you about Tom to sully your image of him. 

     “Whatever it was, he's a lying prick!” Tom rushed out. 

     You giggled, lifting your head up to look him in the eyes, his dark hazel eyes boring into yours. 

     “That’s a shame then,” You shrugged, “considering I like you too.” 

     Tom breathed out a sigh of relief, before looking back at you, doing a double take. 

    “Wait, what?” 

     “Mhm, yeah.” You said casually, standing up. “But since Harrison’s a liar then I suppose he was wrong.” You teased. 

     “No!” Tom grabbed your wrist and pulled you back next to him, but his aim was a bit off and you ended up in his lap. “He lies about a lot, but not about this.”

     You smiled at him, “I should hope not, considering I’m crazy about you.” 

     Tom couldn’t help the smile that beamed across his face, but then he noticed the marks left on you by Harrison. Remembering why he was insecure in the first place, he looked away. 

     “What about Harrison?” He asked. You looked at him utterly confused. Tom caught on and explained further. “You looked like you were really into that scene with him.” 

     You giggled and pinched Tom’s cheek, turning it red. “I’m an actress, you idiot.”

     Tom scoffed, “I know that. It’s just— I didn’t realize you could fake that kind of love.” 

     You looked at Tom’s downcast face. You leaned in and kissed his neck, just under his jaw. You nipped and sucked softly, leaving a nice, dark pink blotch that would go away in a few days under his jaw and he whimpered softly.

     “I’d never fake that kind of love with you.” You grabbed his face, holding it gently in your hands. “I’d never have to.” You whispered, pulling him in for a kiss, soft and sweet. 

     Tom pulled you closer, resting a hand on the small of your back, kissing back fervently. 

     The short make-out session being cut short by the door to the set bursting opened. Harrison rushing out, now dressed in slacks and a white button up for the next scene you needed to shoot that day. 

     “(Y/N)! Hair and makeup need you.” You lugged yourself off of Tom’s lap, promising to talk to him after you finished for the day. You went back inside, jokingly blowing a kiss to Harrison on your way. 

     Harrison stayed outside and sat next to Tom. 

     “Did she confess first?” He asked after a moment of silence. 

     “Yup.” Tom smiled happily, licking his lips, tasting the strawberry chapstick he saw you put on earlier. 

     “You owe me 10 pounds then, you wimp.” 

     “Oh, fuck off.” Tom groaned, promptly pulling ten pounds out of his wallet and handing it to Haz.