#and he's like i thought i knew happiness but i reckon i didnt because happiness is

[withonly-sweetheart]

Not Quite Right

You're Leon's mystery, he's your mystery. He defends your honor without hesitation, but being around you has him questioning his own morals.

a/n: k personally i didnt deliver with this one i kinda sold but im some kinda block rn needed tk get smth done 🤨😔 (useless core) might rewrite later if ive got inspo

there IS a part two with both a happy and sad ending because i cant let sadness take over but i also just read "if he had been with me" and so yeah ill update this with the links when i post those

tw: angst?? age gap if you squint really hard and look between the lines but nun too serious (theres also suggestive content but wtv)

" if you couldnt tell

they said teamwork makes the dream work

hell i had some help "

wc: 1.8k

The saloon was always bathed in a hazy lemon glow, glaring back at Leon’s squinted eyes as the sawdust kicks up under his boot heels. He peels away from the rowdy crowd and nods to the barkeep for another whiskey. He never really was able to read the small, messy names of absurd drinks scrawled onto the curling paper.

Groaning in frustration, he slams it down, digging his nails into the yellowing parchment. Across the table, he catches your eye, specifically those of which narrow directly at him.

Leon admires your uniform; short, tight-fitted burnt hazel dress. It’s always been ugly to him, but you look… ravishing in it, though his eyes are cool as they flit your way.

And he realizes something else, snapping through his mind rapid-fire.

No one looks at him like that and gets away with it.

“Another round?” he calls out as you saunter past. You eye him sideways but say nothing, shifting your stance at the regulars’ raucous shouts. Not the slightest bit bothered, Leon presses, “Looks like you know your men.”

“Is that so?” you smile, knowingly. “Well, I know that folks say you’ve been ‘passing through’ a while.”

Leon chuckled. “And what do folks say about you?”

“That I know things.”

Intrigued, Leon leans forward. “And what do you know?”

You lean in as well, voice low and intimate. “I know a desperate man when I see one. What are you running from, cowboy?”

“What do you think?”

“That you’re a no-account drifter always poking your nose where it don’t belong.”

Leon chuckles, tilting his hat to adjust to the sudden shift in light. “Reckon I’ll be poking around a while longer then.”

You consider him a long moment. Strangely, Leon wishes he knew what you were thinking. “We’ll see, cowboy. We’ll see.”

Leon smiles. "And what do you suppose that means, miss?"

You chuckle drily. "I’m sure you know exactly what I mean, sir.” And with that vague answer, you turn away, step away, linger in front of him for a moment longer before sauntering away, leaving him with pink ears and flustered thoughts.

If it were anyone else, Leon would’ve been irked. But something about you is different. He doesn’t know why, in a town full of women who adore him, you’re the one to entrance him. He also doesn’t know why instead of pushing you further away, he wants to get closer, unravel your mind like tangled yarn.

So when he walks in the next week, he sits in his regular seat and raises his hand, already spotting you swaying to the music in the back. He knows you see his curled fingers first, before you zero in on his face and the corner of your mouth lifts.

"You seem to have me all figured out." Leon says as you walk past, one hand balancing the drinks on a tray. He tilts his head, studying you curiously. "You’ve done your homework, haven’t you, sweetheart?”

"I sure have,” you reply with a slow, lazy smile, leaning over the counter so only he can hear. “It might come as a shock, but I actually might be using my senses.” You lean away, completely unaware of the effect your husky voice has on him.

He blinks once, twice, before a broad grin spreads across his face. “Well…”

“I’ve got your regular?” you offer, twisting over your shoulder to check the drinks. “On the house?”

“That’s my girl,” he praises as you hand him the cool glass, somewhat back to normal. But your words linger in his mind for an indefinite amount of time. Everywhere, anywhere, whoever’s talking, he wishes it was you whispering weakly into his ear.

Especially when he comes in, as if on a schedule, the next week. His eyes are on you but his thoughts elsewhere, his senses stepping in, flashing warning signs and ringing sirens in his head.

He watches you walk past a group of men he usually sees at this particular bar, in that spot, assuming they’re regulars. What really messes with his temper is when one of them whistles appreciatively and all their eyes immediately switch from your face to a lower area.

“Pay them no mind,” you say dismissively, snapping him out of his trance. “This town has its share of fools.”

Leon pretends to glance you over before returning his stern gaze to them, recognizing one of the rowdy patrons. “Like him?”

The man catches his eye and scowls. “You got something to say, drifter?”

Leon turns back to you with a roguish smile. “Reckon it’s time I shut them fools up, what do you say?”

You sigh resignedly. “Just try not to get yourself killed.”

<><><>

You perk up at the sound you already recognize as his boots shuffling across the wooden planks. You glance back down at the drink in your hands, slightly warmer than usual because he returned so late.

When he excused himself a few hours ago, you assumed he had work to take care of. He always came back, anyways, so why bother yourself with the details when you knew that if he wanted you to know, he would’ve told you.

“Well, where have you been-” You immediately stop talking at his appearance. Blood drips down the side of his face, staining the stubble he’s been steadily growing, trickling down his neck. A bruise lines his jawline, maroon and vivid against his pale skin. He staggers over to you, slumping onto a stool, an awkward lean to the right the only sign of his pain.

“Is that mine?” he rasps, reaching for the drink.

“Kennedy!” you exclaim, gesturing to his state and yanking the glass away from his outstretched hands. “What did you get into?”

“Nothin’.” But you hear the sharp inhale he takes before continuing, “Now, did you get all this ready for me?”

“Mhm,” you mumble, gripping your glass tighter, slightly concerned.

“Use your words,” he chides. And now you aren’t concerned as much.

God, he makes you feel so stupid.

“Yes,” you grit out, struggling to be heard against the bustling crowd.

“How ‘bout this?” Leon hums, not waiting for your answer. “Drinks are on me.”

You can’t help but let a smirk tug at the corner of your lips. “Yeah? Anything I want?”

“For a pretty little thing like you, yeah,” he muses, fully turning to face you. You get a better look at his soft, baby blue eyes, fluffy, sandy hair, the way the ivory lights cast shadows across the planes of his face.

“How about not getting into fights?” you joke. He arches an eyebrow as you pass him napkins. He smears the blood across his chin, right under his lips. You can’t help but stare as he tosses his head back to swallow the drink, imagining the liquid burning his throat. “Did you actually fight that guy? You know I was just jokin’ right?”

Leon rasps something you don’t hear, eyes glazed over. “This… is different. What’d you put in it this time, sugar?”

“Just somethin’ special,” you respond vaguely. “Thought you’d like it.”

“Tastes like shit,” he comments, gingerly pushing the glass away. “What, you going around assuming everyone likes what you like?”

“Last guy did,” you mumble, slightly dejected that he didn’t take well to your concoction. To be fair, you did mess up the first guy’s order, mistaking his single for a double and decided it wouldn’t bother Leon if you got him a different drink, right?

“Last guy’s taste ain’t mine,” he says simply, humming in compliance. You wonder exactly what happened on the way here, why he shows up every week without fail. “Tastes stronger than usual.”

“Can’t handle your drinks?” you jab, the corner of your mouth lifting. It’s always amusing to you when you watch a guy stumble out of the bar, so affected by something you made. It sent a feeling of power rushing to your head, like you could potentially control everyone here.

Or more specifically, the one person you wanted wrapped around your finger.

Leon.

So what if you kept him coming back, glancing up at him every time he left, silently begging him to stay for one more drink? You grew up learning that if you wanted something, you had to work for it.

“I can handle anything,” he slurs, words connecting themselves to the sounds he makes, small purrs escaping his throat and going straight to your head. “It’s just… heavy…”

“Heavy?” You chuckle. “Right.”

“What’d you put in this?” he repeats.

“Just the scotch.” Leon immediately snaps up.

“You know I can’t-”

“Can’t what, Leon? Because you know what I sure can’t do?” His surprised and somewhat curious expression spurs you on. “I can’t sit here and pretend that there’s nothing between us, keep you coming back here every week and have you leave me on the other end of your string.”

You poke him square in his upper chest, digging your finger into the little dip between his collarbones. “And although all the other girls you take to bed can handle that, I sure can’t.”

“I’m… leaving you, sweetheart?” Leon chuckles dryly. “As far as I can tell, you’re the one walking away from me.”

“You walk in here and call me your pretty thing, then leave like it’s nothing!”

“My pretty thing?” The swinging lights dance across Leon's face as he turns, searching my gaze as if seeing new things.

“How much longer? This isn’t how you treat-” In the midst of your rambling, something switches in the air between you and Leon grabs the side of your face, leaning forward, eyes defiant yet demanding.

Quicker than the setting sun through hot summer dusks, he bends his head until your breath mingles, hot and sweet.

And when his lips meet yours, they taste sweeter than you expect, fuller than you see on the outside, like you’re tasting what you can’t see. At the touch of his other hand cupping your head, your doubts slip away.

He doesn’t need words to tell you what his pride had kept tied up tight before. You hear yourself make a sound of protest as he pulls away, suddenly, harshly, eyes shadowed by… regret?

“I… shouldn’t have… shit,” he seethes under his breath. Leon pushes back from the table, the legs of his stool grating against the wooden planks. His brows are knitted tight, like he’s wrestling some demon you can’t see.

You reach for him again but he flinches away, not meeting your imploring gaze. You realize it’s like looking at a stranger wearing Leon's face.

The thought wrenches your heart, so desperately, you plead, “Don’t go. Please. Stay. What do you need to say?”

“I… need to go,” he says, voice trembling. “This was wrong…”

"Don't do this," you beg, hating the tremor in your voice but powerless to still it. Weeks of yearning lead to one perfect moment, shattered before your eyes.

"I'm sorry." The words break on Leon's tongue like he doesn’t mean much to them. He backs towards the door, unraveling with every step while you watch, helpless.

Moonlight throws his anguished profile into sharp relief as you plead, "Stay. Tell me what's got your hackles up, cowboy."

But Leon only shakes his head, hands drawn tight. "You know this won’t work. Us… we can’t."

The words land like blows, stealing your breath. You stagger after him onto the porch, heart cracking down the middle at the distance in his eyes.

"You're running scared is all." Your own voice sounds small and far away. By the set of Leon's shoulders, you know this was a battle you've already lost. “You think you’re not the right one.”

“That’s it,” he says, eyes crinkling at the corner with his smile. “Atta girl.”

“Why?” you insist. “If the shit between us is mutual-”

“Because you’ve got your whole life in front of you, girl!” he says, exasperatedly. “I’ll just fuck everything up for you.”

“But-”

“No buts,” he cuts you off, voice final. But you can hear how it hurts him too. “I’m not heartless. I’ve got a conscience, and as much as it eats away at me, I won’t let it have this one too.” His dull eyes find yours. “I won’t let it have you, too.”

He pauses at the top of the stairs, silhouetted against the inky sky. When he turns, there’s no trace of warmth left in his smile. "Take care of yourself, sweet girl."

Then he’s gone, swallowed up by the dark. You sink onto the creaking steps, tasting tears and the agony of loss, the stars uncaring as they sparkle down at you.

[orionsangel86]

God same about Jensen!

He clearly had some insight into Dean that came out intermittently I just thought it was Instincts he had because he'd internalised Dean so much but didn't actually understand what he was saying, stuck in ol' "oh haha Dean is a stupid repressed child who only likes guns" mindset

Turns out WE'RE the fools and Jensen's been playing us ALL

when do you think he took up plans to take over SPN himself? I honestly think it's when they decided to end SPN at S15 and talks about how they should end the story were going on and they had to send him to KRIPKE of all people

Yeah its wild. I would love for him (with Misha's help) to write a tell all book one day.

I feel like jackles has been a far better actor than we all gave him credit for. He has always been very switched on to fandom, he knew about the warring sides, the hate and the bullshit, and I reckon he was being told for years by his bosses to always keep all sides of fandom happy and to play his damn role at all times (ironically just like how Chuck ordered Dean to play his role - life imitates art too often in this fucking show its almost scary). Hence why he's insights into Dean often came across contradictory and odd. Sometimes he had beautiful accurate insights which make total sense, and other times (usually in j2 panels) he'd regress back to the "haha dean just likes guns and girls like a macho man should".

We will never truly know what went on behind the scenes following the moment j2m announced s15 was the end (unless jackles writes that book) so its hard to truly speculate when jackles decided to take things into his own hands, but I also believe it was around about the time they planned the finale and everyone was kissing jarpiss's asshole and jackles was left in the cold to stare down a shitty death scene he didnt agree with. Going to kripke was prob the final straw for him.

He was gaslit into thinking that ending was okay, and whenever he tried to question it he was told to sit down shut up and do what he was told, all the while watching his manchild tantrum throwing drama queen of a costar get his dick sucked by the entire production team for coughing a few times and puffing out his chest and singing the praises of a finale that pushed the spotlight firmly on him and his cop propaganda show.

So yeah, jackles was done dirty, and so he became That Bitch and started making plans. He had the production company set up only days after the finale aired, turned off his social media and refused to be involved in any spn finale celebratory CW PR (absolute King Shit)

I think he started making calls before they even finished filming. Dean wasnt even cold on the ground before The Winchesters had been dreamed up as a way to bring him back. Jackles rare few post finale SM posts all alluded to Dean returning again. He knew what he was doing.

At the same time he was ghosting the manchild, and planning to move his family to Colorado to get away from him. After SPN finally wrapped in mid 2020, him and Jarpiss went their separate ways. They barely spoke after that. Jackles was setting in motion all his plans to fix everything that he considered a personal afront to him (because he is absolutely deranged and literally possessed by the ghost of Dean Winchester) and those plans certainly involve fixing the ending somehow - in a way that isnt obvious no doubt, because he still has to be careful and at least pretend like he respects the ending and his egotistical douchebag of a costar (though he hasn't been doing a very good job of either tbh!)

Thats all my speculation anyway. Holding out for that tell all book jackles!

[xplrvibes]

im back. you know what.. i just saw the videos from the gaol for the first time (i thought my soul would cringe out my butthole) and it wasn’t that bad. yes, it’s stupid for the owner to leak it, and the fans gathering like that is hella cringe. but people made it out a lot worse. snc handled that very well. colby immediately takes charge and says they’re not doing individuals but can do a group photo.

they had the opportunity to completely ignore the fans but I reckon once they got set up inside they knew it was likely in the best interest of the shoot to go see the fans outside then they’ll leave. then they booked it inside after a quick goodbye lol

nicely handled, very pr. their manager would be proud.

i will say sam recording them for xplrclub (idk if he actually posted it on xplrclub, i dont have the app) tells me they actually didnt care the fans were there. bc if they did, why celebrate it? this just validates the behaviour. But oh well lol

- aussie anon

See, the problem is that the people involved in leaking this info in the first place are out there trying to justify their doxxing actions because "snc looked happy, so who cares."

And hey, maybe they knew about this beforehand, and that's fine. And I don't really begrudge the fans that were given the opportunity from the owners to go in and meet them, cause they were given a chance and took it.

My problem lies with the people who are straight up stalking them. Following them everywhere and going onto that goddamn discord server and gc and telling everyone where they will be - up to and including their hotels and rental car info - following them to their hotel, talking to the hotel staff, joking openly about knocking on hotel room doors to find them...and that behavior is now being celebrated because these idiots are out there going "well they were happy to see us, so stop hating," and just trying to gaslight everyone who is rightly uncomfortable about how far this shit is escalating.

There is no universe in which snc is fine with everything that is transpiring. They may have been fine with the owner bringing people into the Gaol, idk. If they were, then I'm happy for everyone involved. But there's no way on earth they are ok with being stalked and doxxed at the level that is going on. But because this group of people got them on camera smiling and controlling the situation, everyone who has been behaving abhorantly and participating in this shit is now taking this as a sign that it's game on.

They did handle the situation like pros, considering how it does appear that they were completely taken aback by the whole thing (from comments I've seen from the staff onsite). I give them kudos for that. The only problem is, now everyone thinks it's totally fine to encourage and continue this behavior, and it's going to escalate and end very, very badly.

But yea, idk why they left their producer in the States...unless he's there and just in hiding, idk. I'd be hiding, if I were him. 🤣

Idk, this whole situation is just ugly and not ok, especially if this owner really did set them up. But even if he didn't - these fans that are publicly doxxing them and the ones encouraging it need to be stopped. 🤷‍♀️

But it's in one ear and out the other with them, so whatever. Hopefully they get through the next week without any traumatic incidents or pending lawsuits lol.

[dayurno]

post-retirement kevin day would 100% go back to his roots and get himself a little farm in rural ireland. i don't make the rules

okay let's be honest this man is probably going to be forced into retirement at the tender age of 29 because he fucked up his knees enough and even the moriyamas agree since the money will keep coming regardless

i don't know why you girls even bother at this point. it's kevin day. he got rich rich. he goes viral on twitter every two weeks. he has a balenciaga gig. he doesn't NEED to play exy to have money people just throw it at him because he's pretty

everyone is worried but andrew & neil specifically are like. He's Going To Die. He Can't Not Play Exy

but the truth is that kevin knew this was coming already. he won't let go of exy completely — the lord knows no one can make him do it — but he'll lay down on the physical exertion for now

so, ireland. it's a somewhat hard decision because both his partners are still in the us but at some point in his life kevin let go of the nest's codependency and realized he actually enjoys solitude and having lots of room to be himself. so it's not really surprising. andreil visit twice a month and keep in touch every day

the problem is that, as time passes, it becomes Extremely Clear that kevin is living the dream life. that cottagecore shit. he posts a picture of himself, shirtless, making clay pots on instagram and it's almost enough to make andrew rip up his contract and fuck off to ireland too

neil won't admit it but he Wants To Be There Too. it becomes harder to leave kevin's little farm the more they visit him. more than once andrew woke up at five in the morning thinking he has to feed the chickens only to be painfully reminded he's, in fact, in his own apartment in the other side of the world

totally ignorant 2 andreil's struggle, kevin is going full on cottagecore on that bitch. abby constantly sends picture of him baking bread from the scratch to the foxes' gc. he has a little ranch and a bunch of flowers and cows and it is a very, very soft life. he doesn't ever remember being this happy.

the breaking point to andrew is when they visit and the cats (fuckers. bastard. traitors) refuse to leave. sir is curled up on kevin's chest as they gently sway in the hammock and when andrew calls him to get him into his cage for their flight the fucker refuses. He Refuses

and andrew can't even be mad at him. because Me Too. i, too, wish i could stay here and curl up with kevin on the hammock and eat homemade strawberry jam every day.

so, after a brief negotiation with his team (& neil, who still wants to play exy for a little while) andrew just packs his bags and catches the first flight to ireland. kevin is DELIGHTED

kevin starts an exy youtube channel mostly to discuss stats and commentary but absolutely no one watches it for the exy. everyone watches it because they want to see handsome kevin day doing farm chores and sitting in a field of lavender and (most recently) teaching the neighboring kids how to ride horses and play exy

what breaks neil is the one picture andrew sends him of kevin wearing a stupid flowery hat under the sun and smiling at the camera like he's never been this happy before in his life. he looks ridiculous and soft and loved and neil makes it his phones lockscreen in a blink

the media catches up on kandreil at the exact same time: with neil's lockscreen and andrew appearing behind kevin during his youtube videos every now and then it's really hard to pretend they're not a Thing. especially because No One expected pro goalie andrew minyard to be feeding chickens and picking apples with kevin day in ireland.

neil signs up with an irish team the second his contract ends — you're telling me kayleigh day's country doesn't have a major exy league? okay. okay — and he's more than happy to reunite with kevin and andrew. occasionally the foxes come to spend a weekend or two in their farm and there has been one summer where nicky's army of adopted children and aaron's twins stay with them for the entire season. it's lovely

this is the story of how one (1) pretty boy made andrew minyard and neil josten, certified brooding presences(TM), move across the world and feed chickens for a living. they love it

the end

[futurewriter2000]

Blind Love

A/N: This took soooo long to write. You guys have like no idea. I started it in November but finally decided to finish. Sat here 2 hours, holding my pee because I needed to finish this and I did. Finally! Also gotta write as much as I can because I have so much to study. Like panic and stress and BREATHE TIJANA. Okay, I’m good. I’m great and fabolus. And appereantly great at drinking water all day and holding the pee. Lol. Anyways hope you like it. Some feedback would be nice tho.

PAIRING: Sirius Black x Potter! reader 

WARNING: Bro this took so long idk how many grammar mistakes were there but watch out. 

REQUEST: Can you do a Sirius Black x reader were the reader is James sister and they dont talk cause James cause james is a jerk (I actually love james but whatever) but in first year her and Sirius become close but he they dont tell James cause Sirius doesn't want him to be mad and the reader is in live with him but when Sirius kisses her when hes staying at the potters and they start dating but they still keep it a secret then she tells him she can't do this cause she doesn't wa--->To finish my ask (didnt realize I wrote so much) she doesn't want to be 2nd choice and then Sirius is like you'll always be my first choice or somethin cheesy like that. Also I love your blog.

XX 

All your life you have been taken care for. Since the day you remembered that first morning, first sunlight, first eyes, first smile, first felt happiness or felt sorrow,... it was as if all your life you have been taken care for, but by yourself. 

Because from what you knew, there wasn’t first morning or first sunlight, first smile or anything that you remembered for the first time and the reason for that was your brother. 

You’ve been different than the rest of the family and it showed. It showed in the way you looked and it showed in the way you acted. There was just that distinct detail that made you stand out from the rest of the family. 

James was the golden child, the favorite child, the one who got to have more attention. Maybe it was because your parents had some trouble in conceiving the first time and when they got James, they were beyond happy. While you? - you were a child they never intended to have. It was the favoritasim of the first child, the first boy in the family, that made James feel more superior to you. He didn’t much try to hide that fact. 

It was as if the two of you were born star-crossed. The two of you were just too different to get along. 

“Would you turn off that bloody music, already!” he stormed in your room. “It’s making me want to jump out the window!”

“Really?” you quirked an eyebrow at him and jumped from on your feet. You stood in front of him, arms crossed and a devilish smirk appearing in the corner of your mouth. You made your way towards the stereo but instead of reaching for the volume button, you turned towards the window and opened it. “Here’s your chance.” 

“Chance to throw you out of the window? That’s a better idea.” he ran towards you but you pushed him away. 

“Don’t touch me you knob head!” you shouted at him but he only wrapped his arm around your neck and trying to give you a noogie. 

“Who’s the knob head now, lil sis?” he laughed but you elbowed him in the stomach and you tackled him, taking the pillow from the bed and hitting his head.

“You’re! Such! A! Fucking! Prick!” you shouted while hitting his head with a pillow. 

He grabbed your arms and tried to prevent you from hitting him any further. His glasses were a bit crooked on his nose and his face expression wasn’t telling you he was in a good mood either. He threw you on your back and quickly sat on top of you, pinning your arms on the ground. 

“Will you turn down the music?” 

“No.” 

He twisted your arm so hard it made you turn on your stomach. Your shoulder was in so much pain but you were stubborn on your answer. “Reckon this is going to change my mind?” you let out a painful laugh.

“Nope. I reckon this will.” and he twisted your arm further that you let out a scream so loud, your parents quickly ran into your room. 

“What in the Merlin’s Hat is going on in here- James get off your sister!” your father pulled James off and helped to get you up as well. “You okay darling?”

“Okay?!” you scoffed, holding onto your arm.”I thought he’s going to pull my arm off my body.”

“I could have.” he quirked an eyebrow and placed a satisfying smile on his smug face. 

“James!” your mother scolded him but he only opened his arms and changed his expression.

“I told her so many times to stop blasting the music but she just doesn’t listen!” he defended, pointing his finger at you. “I have upcoming Newts coming up after these holidays and I can’t study with her being a noisy little prat!”

Your parents exchanged looks, the looks you were far too familiar with. But you weren’t having this. You were not about to let him take away the only thing it was yours. 

“Maybe, darling we should-”

“No!” you crossed your arms in front of your chest and moved in front of the stereo. “I worked all last summer to get this stereo! It’s not yours to take away!” 

“(y/n), honey. James needs-”

“And like James is dense enough to fail a Newt.” you scoffed. “You are not taking it!”

“Well, young lady, that is not your decision!” your mother raised her voice, took out her wand and with a flick made your stereo disappear.

“That’s not fair! Dad!” you turned to your father, who only put his hand on your shoulder and sighed.

“You’ll get it back. I promise.”

“I don’t want a promise. I need a father- You know I’m not even surprised!” you backed away from your father, glaring at all three of them. “His wish is your command, isn’t that right?” you felt your eyes water but before any of them could notice it, you stormed out of your room.

You loved your parents, you really did but when it came to choosing sides, they both always picked his. That stereo was the only thing you most loved. It was simply because it was yours. You bought it with your money that you worked so hard for.

It was always like that. Always the one against all. 

But as you were walking down the road, freezing with no jacket what-so-ever, your thoughts kept wandering off. Every time ou thought of your family, you’ve grown furious but then it was a second when all those thoughts vanished. You tried to think of something, anything but there was nothing but emptiness in your head. 

You sat on the bench by the road and you hugged your arms. Throwing your head back, you took a deep breath in and gazed upon the stars. 

It was at that moment, realizing the beauty and serenity of those white spots on the sky that made you think of someone close to your heart. 

And like a wish come true, it happened.

“(Y/n)?” his voice echoed in the background and you smiled. It sounded so real in your head, as if he was right there next to you. “It really is you!” you could feel steps approaching, you let your head fall back down and see a boy approaching you. 

As he apporached with opened eyes you noticed he was not in your head. No, far from it. He was right in front of you. “Sirius?!” you stood up and with a smile you jumped in his arms. 

He wrapped his arms around you so tight, taking in your wonderful smell and laughed. You held him tight as well, your head on his shoulder  meanwhile his hair brushed your neck. Lifting you up and spinning you in his arms, you laughed and with all the joy, finally asked. “What are you doing here?” 

He put you down on the ground and cupped your cheeks. “You look amazing-” his face expression suddenly changed as his hands travelled to your bare shoulders. “Why are you not wearing a jacket? You’ll freeze to death!” He quickly took off the jacket and wrapped you in it. 

“Honestly, I’m fine- what about you?” you nodded at his bare arms. “Won’t you freeze?”

“With you beside me? Never.” he winked. “What are you even doing here by yourself?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” you nudged him a bit, feeling your cheeks burn as his arm touched yours. 

“Uh-” he ran his hand through his dense hair and started avoiding your eyes. You knew where this usally led to. 

“Sirius?” you tried to catch his eyes and when you finally did, he relaxed and simpered. 

“I ran away... from home...I guess...” 

“You guess?” 

“I just didn’t know where to go-” he continued but you only wrapped your arms around him and smiled.

“You’re always home with us.”

---

Weeks passed after Sirius came living with you and you could say everything seemed more peacful when he was there. You were always so calm, knowing he was just a room away. James was more distracted as well, never had much time on bugging you when he was always with his best friend.

The two of  you kept exchanging glances during dinner, in the living room or anywhere where the two of you ended up. 

It wasn’t until late July when all five of you were in the living room and you were seated next to Sirius the whole movie. It was dark, the only light coming from the television in front of you. Your father was already asleep on his armchairl, your mom already in her bedroom, meanwhile you, Sirius and James kept watching the movie. 

James was sitting on the far left corner of the sofa, meanwhile you were seated on the far right, leaving Sirius right in the middle. And as you were watching the movie, slowly feeling yourself zoning out, a hand took a hold of yours and interlaced its fingers with you. Immediately you looked down and saw Sirius staring directly at the TV. You looked over to James, who might as well be asleep over that armrest and kept his feet sprawled over Sirius lap. Then you looked over to your father who was pulling in light snores and lastly, you looked back at Sirius, who was now looking at you from the corner of his eyes. You moved closer to him and you stayed close to him the rest of the movie. 

It was until you were in the bathroom, taking a quick shower and slipping into your T-shirt and shorts aka your pijama when the doors quickly opened and Sirius slipped in, closing the door behind him and placing his hand over your mouth before you could speak. 

You stood there, frozen and looking up at him with big, wide, confused eyes. 

Slowly, he removed his hand from your lips and smiled. “Hey.” 

“Hey?” you smiled half nervously, half with butterflies in your stomach. “There was someone in the bathroom, you know?” you started to tease and he smirked, taking a step closer and putting his hand on your bare cheek. 

“I know.” he moved even closer. “I just need to do this.” and he pulled you into a kiss and with much surprise, you couldn’t help yourself but slip on the wet floor. Luckily for you, he wasn’t much keen on lettin you go so quickly so his hand wrapped around you, pulled you up and he continued to kiss you. It was perfect. He was perfect. 

---

It wasn’t easy after that kiss or any other kiss that came after. The two of you tried so hard to get together without anybody noticing but it was impossible. James hoovered over Sirius like a helicopter, He always wanted to be with him not matter what and Sirius didn’t do anything about it. 

Not that you were expecting him to do...sure...yeah... they are best friends...closer than that- it doesn’t even matter.

Oh but it did. To you it did because every second alone with Sirius was not enough for you. It wasn’t but he kept telling you that telling any of the family would jeopradize his staying with all of you and you kept reassuring him that they would never kick him out. It didn’t take though. There was never enough time for the two of you to even fight.

At some point you were happy but at the same time you were sad. It couldn’t be as the two of you wanted it to be. He was afraid hurting James meanwhile you were afraid always put on second place because of James, which was exactly what you felt. Always James, James, James. It was pulling your patience by the guts until finally that patience snapped. 

“NO! YOU CANNOT ALWAYS DO THIS TO ME!” you shouted at your parents.

“Lower your tone young lady.” your father warned you.

“LOWER MY TONE?! THE HELL WITH MY VOICE IT’S NOT LIKE THE TWO OF YOU WOULD CARE SINCE ALL YOU SEE IS YOUR PERFECT GOLDEN BOY OF A SON! GOD DON’T THE TWO OF YOU GET IT!!” you continued to shout at the top of your lungs, feeling tears gather in your eyes. “All my life I have been alone!” you now indeed lowered your voice and when they tried to speak, you cut them in. “No! I’m speaking now.” you glared at your mother. “I cooked dinner when the two of you worked late. I washed the clothes. I cleaned the house. I fixed the lamp. I went to get groceries. I study hard for good grades but all of that is never enough.” tears continued to fall down your cheeks. “Not for you because when you got home all you say is that I cooked chicken and I should bloody know James doesn’t eat chicken meanwhile dad and I love chicken. And bloody hell (y/n), why didn’t you wash James’ jersey with that?” you started to quote your mother. “Maybe because he was too busy scratching his balls instead of cleaning his room and throwing the dirty clothes into the laundry basket.” you answered for yourself. “Yes, you cleaned the living room but the bathroom won’t wait forever to be cleaned as well.” you started to quote your mother, then your father. “James could have fixed it better. You know honey, that’s a man’s job.” then your mother again. “Why did you get pudding? You know you’ll just get fat with that- no worries, James will eat it. He needs it more than you since he’s a Quidditch player.” and lastly your father. “Charms and Astrology never caused James any trouble. Maybe you should study more like him.” you continued to look at them as they watched you silenced. “All I wanted was “You did great, honey. Thank you.” and I wanted support or just be appreciated for the hard work I put into pleasing the two of you but all I get is James thrown in my face. It may sound dumb to you but to me this has been with me all my life and I’ll raise my tone, I’ll say it to the two of you because I am done losing my nerves and patience because of it!” you said, walked away, grabbed your jacket, put on your shoes and walked into the hallway.

James was standing in front of you. Sad.

“What?!” you snapped at him but he just shook his head.

“It’s not like that, (y/n). You don’t see it when-”

“Well, call me when there’s actually gonna be some of that to see.” and with a flash you were gone. 

---

You felt so dumb yet so furious. You caused the whole drama because you were jealous of your brother always being in the spotlight yet you were so furious because all that spotlight over-shadowed you. 

“You know running won’t help.” you heard Sirius behind you.

“You’re the one to talk.” you snapped at him, getting up from the swingset and turning around. “What were you planning to do, Sirius?! Huh!”

“I don’t know. I thought about getting an Auror job after, get myself a nice-”

“I don’t mean with that! You know James and my family always has your back!” you shouted, turning back around so you weren’t facing him and letting him see your tears that crawled out at the mention of your family. “I meant us. Did you just do lall of that because you don’t have any of those other girls to be with as you are when you’re at school?” 

“What?!No!-”

“Because that would totally make more sense than actually thinking me and you could work out.” you turned around, smiling hysterically. “With me being James’ little sister and all, you know?” you kept pushing yourself further down. 

“What are you even talking about?!” he started to get angry as well.

“YOU!” you shouted. “You always choosing James! You would! You would be just like them! Always putting my stupid brohther on the first place! And I’ll alwas fall second.” you sighed and threw yourself on the swing, rocking forward and back. “Guess I have to get used to the idea I won’t ever be the first choice to anyone.” you scoffed, feeling completely pathethic and sad. “Just leave, Sirius.”

You could hear him standing there, shuffling with his jacket then later sitting on the swing next to you. “I didn’t come all this way to this fantastic swingset to not try the swings. now did I?” he kept running his fingers up and down the swing chain then finally pushing himself pack and swinging forward. 

“Sirius...”

“Wow, I can actually see the house from here.” he swung higher and kept going. “Maybe if I go high enough I’ll see James’ sister who’s clearly so goddamn invisible.” he exaggerated and you looked at him from the side. 

He jumped from the swing, landed and stood for a while. “Oh well, maybe it’s impossible.” 

“It’s not funny, Sirius.” you said and he immediately turned around to you.

“WHO’S THERE?!” he pulled out his wand. “I’m a wizard! I can melt you into unicorny sparkly puddle!” he looked at you, then lowered his wand. “Oh- well would you look at that?” he said as he continued to stare at you. “Another empty swing.” 

“Will you stop it?” 

“Will you?” he replied harshly. “How can you say all of that? You know the first day your generation came to Hogwarts, you stood out the most and James beside me was so Goddamn proud of you. He was so proud of you that day and I was astonished. Because you were the most gorgeous First year there.” he was now in front of you. “You were fun, easy to talk to, trusting, fiery- you were the combination of beauty but deadly. The only reason I dated those other girls were because I couldn’t have the one I wanted.” he put his hands on your knees. “I knew you were the one for me even before I realized it. You were always the first for me. Always first place. I always had that seat reserved for you. Always and James? He loves you, (y/n) but like all the Potter’s you’re too dense to actually see what’s in front of you. He worries about you all the time. He keeps asking if I saw you eat, always pranking the boys who hurt you, sometimes even intimidating them... with me as his side-kick of course.” he added and you smiled. “He knows about the favoritism and he does argue with both of your parents and it’s not all black and white like you see it. And in school, he always talks about you, no matter I fell in love with you.”

You smiled even wider at him. “You fell in love with me?”

“You had me in your palm the moment you pushed James into the compartment in before your First year in Hogwarts and kicked him in the gentle parts.” he said and you laughed. 

“Merlin, you remember that?”

“What Gryffindor doesn’t remember that?- Look, that doesn’t even matter right now.” he quickly changed the topic and gently brushed his thumbs against the back of your hand. “You and James will always be siblings, there’s no changing that fact and James will always be the favorite but this is not a battlefield, (Y/N). Even if it was, you have all of your family on your side and me- the only enemy you should be worrying about are the insecurities that get to your head. You’re being loved. Trust me.” and he looked deep into your eyes and for him you did the same, knowing, at that moment, that you are being loved, you were just too blind to see it. 

[perksofzen]

Strawberry and Sunflower

Hello everyone,this is my first imagine on Tumblr.I've been writing in Wattpad for sometime now and,today I have the courage to write on Tumblr too.I know some people here likes Tumblr more than wattpad but we have our own opinions on that and I totally respect it.

There are some accounts here on Tumblr that inspired me to give a shot on writing on Tumblr so thank you so much.

This is really not an imagine for starters,this is the first chapter of my HS fanfiction on Wattpad,Its called Baby Angel and I hope you like it.

Soon enough,I'll start doing some imagines in here so Im really hoping that my writings in here are welcome.

Thank you!

-S

🍓🌻

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

September 27,2018

The soft breeze of LA hit the people who is walking, who is doing good on their own. The street lamps are being lit as the dark starts to creep in. People are starting to go home in their home to be with their family.

A certain man couldn't help but longed for a home. He was just sat there on a bench, with his head hung low as the air brushes his curls.

It's been months now, he kept giving everyone a smile, like he's always used to but the media nor the people doesn't know what he's feeling or what's the real reason. All he could think about was her, he didn't mean to but when they broke up, he started to feel that maybe the certain French girl wasn't his endgame.

As he thinks, a beautiful smell invaded his senses and a hand with strawberry was put in front of him. He furrowed his eyebrows before moving his head to the side.

Soon, he was met by a fair girl who is looking at him straight to the eyes and his green eyes was met by a grey one,her raven black hair swayed back and forth while her pink plump lips have a small smile.

Somehow, the girl looked familiar to him.

"Looks like you need it"the girl said that made him surprised on the inside of how soft her voice.

Both of them just stared at each other before the girl motioned to her hand that held the strawberry.

The guy hesitated for a second before taking it.

"You'll love it"the girl smiled before placing the box of strawberries between them and popping one in her mouth.

"I reckon you love strawberries then"the guy said as he took a bite on it as the girl hummed happily. "I'm sorry, can I ask where did you get it?'know s'not a season for strawberries right now"

"I have my ways"the girl winked at him before taking another bite. "So, what is Harry Styles doing here?At almost 7 pm outside in LA?"

"Oh... Uhm nothing"Harry looked ahead after finishing a strawberry.

The girl groaned softly before looking at him,"You have that look, you know?"

"What look?"Harry was confused to her question that made him look back at her.

"That look! the look look thingy"the girl tried explained.

The girl means one thing.

The look of a broken man.

"I don't know what you mean right now"Harry shook his head along the girl sigh before silence creep to the both of them as the wind blew past them. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, not like you're not asking already"the girl shrugged, slowly making herself comfortable towards the popstar.

"Would you write a song for your ex?"Harry asked with that look again.

The girl was taken aback from his question but she immediately knew where was this coming from so she tried to help.

"I mean if I can't let my feelings or talk to someone about it, then yeah I'll write one but not if it's not necessary really, but it depends on the person"she said softly looking at guy beside him, "I-is this about the girl?What's her name?Cam... -Camille?"

"Yeah"Harry breathed out before leaning back to the bench. "Thanks for that"

"I'm sorry by the way but you're welcome, Mr. Styles"she smiled with a teasing smile because of what she called him making Harry chuckle a little before taking another strawberry.

"So, I reckon you like strawberry?"Harry then change the subject while motioning to the fruit in his hand before taking a bite, the sweetness immediately hit his tongue and remember that the girl didnt  answer his question earlier.

"Love it"she closed her eyes nodding her head making Harry chuckle again.

Another silence went passed as Harry continued eating the strawberries. Much to his surprise, he liked the strawberry. The way the juice surrounds in his mouth and the sweetness hitting in his palate, he liked the feeling of it.

The silence was broken when the girls phone rang startling them a little. She took out her phone seeing a text from her friend who is in her house with his her brother.

"Holy-Uhm hey, I gotta go now"The girl stood up from her seat as Harry look at her. "My friend is asking me to go home already"

"oh erm okay"Harry said, a little sad that she will go now, he liked her company already even though they barely spoken but he felt at ease, "Your strawberries"

"No, take it"She pushed the box to him again. "You need it more than I do right now"

"oh"Harry looked down at the strawberries.

"See you around, Harry"the girl smiled before turning around to walk to another direction.

Harry looked up and watch her back as she slowly walked away from him before he stood up when he realized something.

"What's your name?"Harry called.

"Noelle"she smiled turning back to him a second before walking away again.

"Noelle"he breathed out as the name started to burn in his mind.

Harry then widen his eyes knowing that name too well ever since he was 16 and he felt stupid for not recognizing her immediately.

He looked at her retreating back once again before he saw something at the Jean pocket of her jeans.

A sunflower patch.

-

"I'm so sorry I got home late"Noelle apologize.

"Yeah sure unless you want your mom and dad to kill me that you're still not home by 7 or 8"Andre sarcastically said as he stood up from his position on the couch.

Andre is one of Noelle's close friends who went to her house earlier to help her 15 year old brother on an assignment.

"and you're still scared of my Dad and chill, mom's not in LA"Noelle laughed fist bumping her brother in a way of greeting.

"Dude, he's Robert Downey,in that happy expression lies the scariness"he exclaimed.

"Oh shut up and go home to your grandma"she shoved him a little making them both laugh.

"Alright, night little Downey's"Andre smiled at them as he take his jacket off of the couch before walking out of the

house.

"So, how's the homework?"Noelle asked as she walked towards the kitchen to get some water.

"It was good, he really is a genius when it comes to music"Wesley Night Downey sighed dramatically. 

Noelle just chuckled at him knowing what her brother said is true.

As Noelle poured a glass of water for her while Wesley continued watching TV, the door then opened revealing their tired yet all smiles father.

"Aye Big Downey"Noelle and Wesley greeted.

"Ah my little Downey's"Robert grinned back fist bumping Wesley.

"Evening dad"Noelle greeted and walked to him to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Evening, Downey"Robert greeted back with a smile before looking at the glass in her hand. "Oh is this mine?Thanks, Elle"

"I-.. What?I'm not even gonna ask"Noelle huffed as Robert took the glass and drank in one gulp.

Noelle then just laugh at him knowing it always goes this way, her dad taking away everything she holds.

Then she remembered Harry on the bench, he looked really sad earlier that it made her approach him without a second thought.

I guess he was really heartbroken, she thought.

~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

[khnstllflwr]

Tell Me A Story - khnsllflwr

TW// All payne, no Liam.

"Louis Tomlinson, singer song-writer, ex member of the legendary band, one direction and his long-time girlfriend, model, fashion blogger, and social media influencer, Eleanor Calder just announced their engagement this morning, they said that the awaited wedding would be broadcasted in the 28th of Septem--"

"Tss. The 28th, huh. Really?" Harry tutted before shutting off the telly. He stood up from the couch walked around it, heading to the kitchen. He made himself a cuppa with that ridiculous tea he always liked, not that Harry liked it, but the other one just made him liked it 'more like forced me to like it' he thought. Thoughts came flooding down like the showers that are danish, they were flooding down on Harry while he stares at the brand of tea, before he even indulges into deep memories and start bawling his eyes out, his phone rang, thankfully, it rang.

Fetching his phone by the coffee table, he took a quick glance at the telly then back to his phone, "Gemma❤️" was calling.

"Hey sis, what's up?" Harry answered the call.

"Hey Harold, I was wondering if I can leave Darcy over there, Michal and I are going to a business trip to LA but she doesn't want to go with us, she said she's rather stay with you, is that okay?" Gemma asked, he smiles.

"That's actually really wonderful, I would love to take Darcy in, when are you leaving for LA? When are you going to drop Darcy?" A hint of excitement is running up to Harry's stomach, he always loved kids, and always wished he could have one. He missed his niece although he's in London he didn't get a chance to see Darcy because of work.

"Our flight is actually tonight so is it okay to drop her in later? In the afternoon maybe?"

"Oh that would be really lovely actually, I'll wait for you guys then."

"Are you still in London? Are you in Hampstead?" Harry's smile faded, his shoulders dropped, he hesitated for a bit then answered.

"I-im in Barnet" Harry choked. There's a few seconds of awkward silence before Gemma answered.

"You mean in Royal Drive? Are you in Princess Park?" She asked, bewildered, a bit quietly, or so Harry thought, but it's definitely quieter than before.

"Yes....." Harry answered very quietly.

"Okay then... I'll drop her in later, okay? Love you, take care" a breath of relief for Harry when Gemma answered in her usual tone.

"Love you too sis, take care, tell Darcy I'm excited to see her" Gemma chuckled before answering "okay" and hanging up the phone.

There's a few minutes of silence before he looks around the living room, he arrived there last night, tired, sho he immediately went to sleep but now that he's awake he could fully see the whole manor, the memories, everything, everything and nothing that happened here. All those days and nights that they shared, the fun, the happiness, the sadness, but especially the love.

Harry spent the whole morning looking around the manor and changing what needs to be changed (like there's anything that needs changing), Cleaning what needs to be cleaned (like there's even something to clean), and unpacking the baggage he left last night lying out and about his bedroom floor. Harry is now in the kitchen cooking something very nostalgic, when the doorbell rang, 'it must be them', he thought before taking off his apron, turning off the stove, and skipping to the bloody door.

"Uncle Haz!" Darcy immediately came running off to his uncle's arms when the door opened.

"She missed you a lot" Gemma chuckled, Harry invited them inside.

"Wow your house looks like a castle" Darcy said, amazed.

"Would you like to stay for lunch?" Harry asked while his 5-year-old niece is hanging off his back.

"Oh no we're okay, we need to do something important here before flying to LA" Michal said, Gemma's husband.

"That's a waste then, but its okay" Harry answered while Darcy is playing with his hair.

"Darcy darling, would you mind getting down Uncle Haz's back? Mummy needs to talk to him" Gemma asked her daughter politely, with a little "okay mummy" Harry bends down and Darcy climbs down and goes running for her dad, Gemma pulled Harry to the kitchen.

"Are you okay? I just read the article shortly after you hung up the phone, is everything okay?" Gemma asked in a very elderly sister-y way.

"Never been better" Harry answered and gave her a reassuring smile, actually ot was more of a fake smile than a reassuring one but nonetheless. Gemma noticed, she always notices.

"I know that you probably don't want to talk about it, but I'm worried about you okay? And if you want someone to talk to I'm here, Harry. I'm always here" Gemma gave him a heart warming smile and gave him a hug, a hug that Harry needed the most, he hugs her back and they stood like that for a few seconds until Gemma lets go, it's always the other person who lets go, but Harry, Harry never does.

After talking and reminding for a few minutes Gemma and Michal bade goodbye to Darcy and they both gave her a goodbye kiss to the cheeks.

"What are you making Uncle Haz?" Darcy asked when they're both in the kitchen. Harry smiles sadly and looks down at what he's making.

"Well, this-- this, I'm making Chicken stuffed with Mozzarella wrapped in Parma ham with a side of mash Potatoes" Harry chuckles at what he just said.

"That's a lot of words, but it sounds delicious, is there anyway you can shorten the name?" She asks still looking at Harry dead in the eyes while her hands are cupped to her cheeks.

" I reckon it's actually pretty long," he chuckles, " then let's call it Louis Bleu" he smiles.

After they've finished eating, with Darcy blabbering over and over again that 'Louis Bleu' is now her favourite dish and would ask her mum to make it for her when she's back, they spent the whole day watching cartoons and playing games. They even went to a nearby park and played with the swings, they fetched themselves some chocolate and ice cream in the nearby convenience store on their way back. It was a really nice day.

"Uncle Haz, Can you tell me a story?" Darcy asked when night fell and its bedtime.

"Sure love, what kind of story do you want me to tell?" Harry obliged, fixing her blankets while he sat at the edge of her bed.

"Can you tell me a fairytale story, or even a love story? About a prince and a princess?" She asked, smiling, he looks at her, smiling, but now with the sparkles in his eyes.

"Well, I don't know any love story about a prince and a princess, but I do have a story about a prince and his soulmate, the little one with the cheekbones" thoughts and memories started rushing and filling up his head and his smile gets wider, he does his little fond nose crunch at the memories.

"What's a soulmate?" This little girl asked.

"Its a--," Harry hesitated, "Well-- It's like a bestfriend but more, its that one person in the world that knows you better than anyone else." Harry looks up and spaces out with thoughts in his mind, thoughts that are begging to come back. "It's someone who makes you a better person, no-- actually they dont make you a better person than you than yourself, its because they inspire you," he stops to breath, and he looks down.

"A soulmate is someone who-- who knew you and accepted you and believe in you before anyone else did or when no one else would. And no matter what happen, you'll always love them. Nothing could ever change that." Harry finally finishes, his eyes a bit glassy he feels like he's about to cry but then he felt Darcy's embrace 'she truly is Gemma's daughter' he thought.

"Don't cry uncle Hazza, im sure that soulmates are really beautiful and happy" she says while patting her uncle on the back, Harry chuckles.

"I know love, it really is, now let's go on to the story" Darcy lets go of him and starts to climb to bed again.

"So-- there once was a prince, he was a bit lonely and he's not very confident, he really loves to sing and would love to perform around the world, one day he met this boy in the loo," he chuckles, Darcy does the same, "This boy..... Is the little one with the cheekbones," Harry stops, just to see Darcy's reaction but she didnt react at all, "Aren't you surprised that the prince's soulmate is a boy?" He asked, a bit taken aback.

"Well, no, Mum told me that we can love who ever we want even if it's a boy or a girl" she answered. Harry felt so much happiness he thought he was about to explode but he pulled himself together and continued the story.

"The little one with the cheekbones has magnificent beautiful blue eyes and an attractive smile, the prince fell in love then and there, when they first locked eyes with each other" " After that they've spent a lot of time with each other because they both have the same interests, they wanted to sing and they wanted to travel and perform around the world, they wanted to be free. They both were put in a band or a group with three other boys, the irish princess, the bradford badboy, and leeroy" the nicknames made Darcy laugh out loud, it took a few minutes to calm him down.

"Okay the five of them were very close with each other, they were always together, they were best of friends but the prince-- the prince felt a lot more affection for the little one with the cheekbones, he's his favourite out of the boys. There came a point were he realized he loved the little one, but he was scared to tell him because he might push him away"

Darcy interrupted, "Why would he be scared? If he loves him he should tell him right away right? Because someone might take him away?"

'I know' Harry thought 'but there's some things that people are too afraid to lose that's why they don't say it, That's what I also regret, I didn't tell him sooner.'

"Yes, you should but don't worry. As the the days go by they've become closer and closer together, and the prince fell harder each day, he was really in love with the little one with the cheekbones, little did he know he likes him too" Darcy gave an unholy shriek of excitement, Harry, although startled, gave a smile.

"So one day the prince couldn't take all the love anymore he felt like he was going to burst, so he confessed his love for the boy, and he was surprised to find out that he loves him too, from the first they that they met," Harry game a teary smile, "They decided to live together, in a castle."

"Just like here? Like this house? It really looks like a castle" Darcy asked

'Exactly here, they lived exactly here'

"Yes, just like this one" Harry answered sniffing a little bit.

"So did they live happily ever after?" She asked with excitement, her eyes glistening with curiousity.

"They lived happily, sure, but there were some bad people who wanted them apart, that's why they had to hide their love from others, they were forced to stop interacting with each other when people are around so they do it in secret"

"Why? But they love each other, isn't that enough? They dont have to hide it right?" Darcy asked, a bit teary eyed.

'We do love each other, I also wished we didn't need to hide it' he thought, but he brushed those thoughts away.

"They also didn't want to hide it, but it's their only choice or else the bad people will break them up. So they chose to hide it when their outside so they won't take them apart. They will do anything they say, just so they could stay together."

"Just like soulmates." She said absent-mindedly.

"Yes, just like soulmates. They did everything together, they travelled the world, they performed, they sang, even though they can't show their love to other people, they still show it in little ways like quick glances, secret touches, and cheeky holding hands. They also made their skin like paper, all the things they can't say they write or draw it in their skin, because no one can erase them, it will forever be there." Harry touches his arms full of tattoos.

"Just like yours?" Darcy asked.

"Just like mine. They also have a lot of matching drawings, Do you know what's my favourite of all?" Harry asked, she shakes her head. " The prince has a ship drawn in his left arm," he touches his left arm where the tattoo is located, "and the little one with the cheekbones has a compass that points ships to home drawn in the inside of his right arm, it means that the boy will always be the prince's home away from home" Harry smiles, a little bitterly, with a hint of pain.

"That's really sweet" she says sweetly, butterflies filling her stomach.

"It is, They feel safe around each other's arms and feels happy in the presence of one another. They faced every storm together, and also faced every sunny day together," Harry stops, smiling, staring at nothing, trying to remember everything, all the memories, "and even when they're apart from each other the universe always finds a way for them to meet, to get back at each other's arms. They were soulmates" Harry smiled at Darcy.

"They really fell in love, didn't they?" She asked.

"Yes, yes they did."

"But what happened after? Are they still together now? Did they fight the bad people? Are they gone?" She bombarded him with questions one after the other.

"Well the bad people got into the little one with the cheekbones, so in the end, he let the prince go, but the prince didn't, he never does, he's still holding on. Now the little one with the cheekbones is getting married to a beautiful princess while the prince is left alone but he was happy because he got to meet his soulmate, the little one with the cheekbones." Harry finishes his story, a single tear escaping and rolling down his cheek.

"So the little one with the cheekbones loved the prince after all." She stopped,

"But he let go? Doesn't he love the prince anymore?" She asked sadly. 'I really hope he still loves him, but I believe that he already truly let go, all the prince wants is for the boy to be happy, even if it's not with him'

"No one knows, not even the prince," Harry answered, 'but he's still hoping that maybe the universe will put them back together, if they really are soulmates, or if he just assumed it' Harry whispered audible only to himself.

"But you said that they're soulmates, Im sure the universe will find a way to get them back together right? Even if it takes a long time?" Harry smiled, then nodded.

"Could you tell me their names?" Darcy asked curiously. "The prince's name is Harry and the little one with the cheekbones is named Louis" he answered, Darcy smiled a little sleepily, she pulled the covers up to her chin and said,

"Well, Harry and Louis' love story is the greatest one I've ever heard, even if it didn't end with a happily ever after." Before closing her eyes and falling to sleep.

Harry answered, tears falling down one after the other.

"Yes. Yes, it is."

The end.

A/n: Hey guys! So this is my first ever larry fanfic. I am in no way trying to Disrespect Harry or Louis, I just believed that they fell inlove at some point of their life, even if its just a split second. And I believe that they're love story is the greatest it's actually the only reason I actually believe in love. I wrote this fanfiction because I was bored and the power cut off, so I wrote a story on my notebook it was inspired by 2 Larry edits: 'They fell in love, didn't they?" And 'What are soulmates?' from the og larry editor in youtube her channel is GossipSmile check her out! She's really great. The name Darcy is also inspired by a girl from Tiktok who does POV's and she does Darcy Styles check her out guys! There's the link. Love you all, spread love, TPWK xxx

[harrystylinslut]

my live in time review of Emerald Fennell’s ‘Promising Young Woman’ (2020)

Promising Young Woman

Dir Emerald Fennell

So hello friends welcome to my reviews. I type my pure, unfiltered (mostly) thoughts about movies. I call it ‘chey watches films’ and I promise it’s going to stop being so serious. 

My first film I decided to do this on is Promising Young Woman since it was a hit at this past Sunday’s Oscars. Which was amazing - btw. So, of course. Spoilers ahead. These were my thoughts as they happened knowing nothing about the story because I don’t watch trailers on purpose. 

“Boys by charli xcx are you fucking kidding me”

“20 seconds in and i already need fucking help this is so funny”

“This club scene im screaming” ~internally~

“This looks like a blast honestly god I miss clubs”

“Her bangs are so cute” - me abt cassie

“This lighting is so fucking sexy”

“Oh my god YES drunk car rides are the fucking worst”

“Wait is she just acting lol”

“Omg he’s gonna roofie her”

“The way she’s not kissing back has me crying” - was actually cry laughing a lil bit 

TW: bedroom scene ewie

“WAIT QUEEN I LOVE HER”

“Omg she’s so hot”

“It’s raining men omg lmao”

“I’m crying at this movie I hate them” - term of endearment

“I want to marry Bo’s character” - sorta 

“Not him being a foot taller than her”

“Laverne Cox is adorable and needs to wear a gold septum always”

“Luv cassie so much and the Make Me Coffee Shop” - very interesting name for a coffee shop

“That waist yes gawd” - showing her braid

“YAY IT’S BO - oh my god I love that shirt”

“Oh my god they even know each other that’s so cute”

“Interesting choice of name for Bo’s character”

“That flirting style…. I love it. Sorta enemies to loving yep” so endearing 

“NOT HIM DRINKING THE COFFEE WITH SPIT IN IT LMAOOOOO FUCK”

“She’s a fucking clown I love her”

“I love this actor” - about the coke scene

“Oh my god jesus fuck he is so cringe”

“Not shoving drugs in her mouth jesus”

“LMAO HIS NAME IS NEIL THIS IS SOOO STUPID NOT THE KISS….NEIL IS AWFUL”

“She’s so intimidating I love it”

“Oh my god this is ME”

“Cassie is so hot”

“Stealin hearts n never saying sorry”

“Ohhh this thunder is very cool”

“The guitar fuck no”

“Not her forgetting her 30th birthday omg”

“Jesus her Mom is annoying”

“Ryan is so hot omg”

“Whew he looks so good”

“Im laughing so hard Bo Burnham is such a talented actor”

“I love this actress ((Carey)) so much”

“Would have been a great doctor she just didnt want it bad enough ,, very relatable”

“Not him saying she looks like his daughter omg but like she can wear some badass heels and not be taller than him thats kinda hot though”

“Oh my god not sex on the counter JESUS SHE IS BOLD”

“She called him lover boy lmao”

“I hate it I hate it I hate that people dont understand people can be triggered by school I hate that kids even have to go through that”

“Omg the social media stalking that’s so funny”

“Ew yeah… I hate seeing awful people happy”

I

“This seems shady”

“Omg yes bitches get drunk”

“Lmao thats right feel BAD”

“Not her saying they want a good girl shut up stop being pretentious”

“People dont just forget that those things happen and it’s so shitty she’s just passing it off OMG GGGGG I HATE it”

II

“Yep she social media stalks everyone and it sucks seeing so many awful people being happy and not being served proper justice”

“Knew it knew what Alexander had done - they allude to it very well”

“Yep drunk at a party”

“The dean didnt take it seriously at all and passed it off as just some little mistake because she was drunk. People dont just shut up. Yes fuck his life up he deserves jail time - that’s so shitty oh my god”

“There can be a different fucking system we can protect people”

“This is a female Deadpool I fucks with it”

“Oh my god Cassie is CRAZY also is the receptionist in on it LMAO”

“Why do they not have a case file? Did they not file a report with the police? What the entire loving fuck why does no one remember anything about this?”

“This is beautifully filmed”

“Awe Ryan is being v sweet”

“Oh my god shes playing her game again WHHHY”

“Ryan is so protective omg that’s lowkey hot though”

“She’s so hot”

“I love this scene”

III

“Omg not his day of reckoning jesus”

“People have been trying to get him arrested for years jesus”

“Oh my god cops are so fucking corrupt this is so gross”

“I love how genuine he is I cant imagine cops that have had to go through that”

“Lmao I can relate to Nina so much I did so much shit to stand up for people I’m a professional hype man tbqh”

“Jesus I wouldnt just fucking move on either”

“Awe omg Ryan is there for her I love him”

“Oh my god they are so adorable my heart breaks for her so much”

“I wanna dance with Bo wtf”

“THE KISS AHHHH WTF”

“Come and fuck my life up PLEASE”

“Oh my god why am I crying lol”

“This family is wild lmao”

“He’s so freaking sweet”

“Love how Cassie isnt actually crazy people just truly are awful”

“Oh my god them flirting they are so freaking adorable I cant do this”

“THERE IS EVIDENCE WHY IS EVERYONE BEING THIS WAY”

“It sucks so fucking much”

“God everyone was so drunk though you cant watch though you need to help”

“I truly think people dont realize how serious it is Im glad this movie will help that”

IIII

“Um loving this orchestra version of Toxic”

“NOT MAX GREENFIELD LMAO”

“Her posing as a stripper so true”

“Hell no yes go girl bully these men”

It got very serious and uncomfortable so I skipped to the part where Max Greenfield’s character enters the room. 

“This reminds me of the Bo Dukes story”

“That’s really how it was - it’s so funny to watch these investigations how awful they are”

“You can just tell he’s lying just tell the truth plEATHE”

“God he loved her so much this hurts”

IIIII

“Max running away oh my god bitch where u going”

“I hope Ryan isnt turned in I dont think she would do that”

“YES ARREST HIS ASS”

“The necklaces Im cryin”

WHEW 100/10 I really loved that movie a lot !!!

ANYWAYS. I will write a more comprehensive review for the blog I wanna start or my podcast - but here it is!

[unicyclehippo]

I'd love to see 31 in that prompt list you just reblogged with beaujester!

oh i bet u would What A Surprise

31. “Can I kiss you?”

//

she’s been thinking about it for a long time. since it happened, really, and constantly for a while after that. and then, at some point she can’t quite place...she had thought less and less about fjord kissing her.

saving her life?

saving her life via kiss.

the thought had come back in a big way for reasons she’s not ready to think about yet so here she is—standing with burning cheeks and trembling hands in fjord’s room, waiting for his answer.

he was clearly polishing his sword—not a euphemism, though now that she thinks about it she giggles. the laugh takes on a hysterical note and that’s what gets fjord up on his feet, breaking out of the stunned fish look. with a flick of his wrist, the new sword is gone and he crosses the room in a few long strides. hesitates for a second before settling his hands on her shoulders.

‘hey,’ he says, so gently, so kind, in the way he always is when it is just the two of them, ‘what’s wrong?’

she shakes her head. ‘nothing. just—you can say no, if you want, i just thought—‘

‘jester,’ why does he sound sorry? pitying? is she pitiful for asking? his hands are calloused, warm, as he lifts them to her cheeks. ‘you have to give me a second to catch up. you want—‘ he flushed a little. ‘you want me to kiss you?’

‘i—‘ she leans forward until her forehead knocks against his sternum. enjoys the way his arms settle around her shoulders, hug her. there’s something not quite right about it, he’s being too careful about it like he’s not sure he’s doing it right, or that he should be, and it makes jester itch all over. is it too much to ask that she can be held? hugged? kissed? why does it never feel right? ‘you saved me,’ she says. it’s easier when she can’t see his face. ‘you kissed me.’

‘i—yeah. i did.’

‘were you just saving my life? or were you kissing me?’

she can almost hear his heart, beating away steadily beneath new muscles. maybe that’s why it feels wrong. she knew him, met him, when he was slimmer, less muscular, and she wonders if that’s why it doesn’t feel quite right. if it’s something she has to get used to again.

‘i was saving you,’ fjord says. ‘i couldn’t let you drown. you—we’ve been a team from the start, jes, i couldn’t.’

jester nods.

fjord’s hold lightens a little as though he expects her to leave. when she doesn’t, he hugs her a little tighter and that feels better. more comfortable. she shifts so her cheek is pillowed on his shoulder and sighs.

‘i think...i knew that.’

‘are you upset?’ he asks quietly.

‘a little, maybe.’

‘okay. can i...do something?’

‘answer a question?’

fjord’s hold tightens a moment, then relaxes. ‘yeah. anything,’ he says, and he sounds like he means it. really means it. it can be hard to tell with fjord but even as jester thinks that, she realises that she trusts him with the deep, unshakeable faith she allows for very few people.

‘do you want to kiss me? do you want—‘

‘do i want you?’ fjord asks. she knows what the wildmother sees in him; the warm, the gentleness of the waves on the beach. the sting of salt in a wound. ‘not like that. i love you, jester, i—i hope you know that, i hope i’ve done well enough to show that. but no. i’m sorry.’

she has a lot of questions but mostly they boil down to: do you want someone else? or do you just not want me? but she hasn’t the energy to ask it, hasn’t the fortitude now to hear the answer. it isn’t that she’s upset that fjord doesn’t want her—which is new and novel of a thought, because she was sure, sure that she loved fjord in those big grand romantic ways and to feel very little more than disappointment is...confusing. she’s just tired. tired of not being wanted.

‘okay,’ she says, and hugs him tighter.

‘okay?’

‘yeah. okay.’

it takes a little while but eventually the tension runs out of fjord like a tide, pulling away bit by bit until it reveals the covered shore and she thinks despite the faint hurt and disappointment she might be happy with what she has found in its place. happy with the fjord that hugs her tight and presses a kiss to her hairline, gentle and full of a love jester thinks she’ll always need.

eventually, she steps back. wipes at her cheeks where a few tears have spilled over. fjord offers her a handkerchief—‘such a gentleman,’ she teases, and accepts it.

‘you want...tea? or a nap? or...’

jester smiles, not quite her typical brilliant smile but a good one nonetheless. ‘no, it’s okay. i’m gonna...i’m gonna go read under the tree or something. draw something for the traveller.’

‘okay.’ fjord opens the door for her, walks her out to the landing. he starts down, toward the kitchen, before stopping a few steps lower than her. ‘jes?’

‘mhm?’

‘what—made you come to me? and ask?’

can i kiss you? jester remembers saying to him, almost frantic with the request. it had felt like life or death in that moment, like she was chasing after something vital, something she needed.

jester’s eyes slide down past him, down to the room where she had been before. the training room, packed down hard with sand, and the training dummies. where she had been watching beau fight with potent focus, where she had sat beside her friend, and where they had somehow been drawn closer and closer on the bench as they spoke and plotted how to prank nott or maybe caduceus, he’s a solid good sort, in an effort to get yasha to laugh—or maybe smile, jessie, beau had said, with an awkward tilt of her head, seeing as laughter might be like a second step or something. break the proverbial emotional ice with some light smiles first. the smile beau had offered up was small and sweet and ripe with mischief as she talked about what a really bad fucking idea it’d be to prank caleb, and jester hadn’t been able to look away. how had she not noticed—

‘jes? did something happen?’

jester’s attention darts back to fjord, looking like he’s about to climb back up to her.

‘nothing bad,’ she tells him. ‘i don’t think.’

‘do you wanna talk about it?’ he offers, scratching at the back of his neck. ‘i don’t know if i’m the right person for it but—‘

‘would you be upset if i asked someone else?’

fjord’s expression shifts quickly—the concern washed away by surprise, and then a momentary dark glimpse of something she can’t place, so quick that jester thinks it hardly belonged to him at all. finally, calm settles and she can see nothing but curiosity glinting in dark eyes, like light off capped waves. he smiles a crooked smile, the tip of a tusk peeking above his lip.

‘someone got you in a tizzy,’ he deduces. ‘and you came to me.’

guilt hits her like a tidal wave and jester grips onto the bannister, pulls her bottom lip into her mouth to worry at it.

‘i—yes, but i didnt know, i didn’t realise—i wasn’t using you, fjord, i wasn’t—‘

‘jester,’ he cuts her off, ‘i know.’ he loves her too. she can see it. the deep affection, the adoration, has never been more obvious. ‘i don’t think you’re capable of that. nah, that’s not true. you could do anything you wanted. but i reckon you’d never do it.’ he appraises her silently, then adds, ‘i’m here for you. whatever happens.’

jester smiles, this one trembling. ‘thanks,’ she says, a little choked.

//

she gets a peaceful half hour or so in the garden before someone raps on the door, presses it slowly open. she’s only a little surprised to find that it is beau peeking into the space, blue eyes lighting up when she spies jester seated by the traveller’s shrine cad had made for her.

‘hey. missed you at dinner. fjord told us you were up here, didn’t want to be disturbed.’ she steps in cautiously, ready to leave the instant jester asks her to. ‘i brought up something—just some stew, it’s weirdly good, cad’s a great cook. and,’ with a flourish she produces something that looks like a blueberry but is the size of an eyeball. ‘xhorhassian sweet. it’s a berry, i think.’ she looks at it a little nervously, before shrugging. ‘i’d offer to try it first, but i’m immune to poison and shit like that. i can make nott eat one first, if you want.’

jester laughs. ‘i’ll risk it,’ she says, and beckons beau over. it only occurs to her when beau is approaching that maybe it isn’t a good idea when everything is so close to the surface of her thoughts. but beau is already sitting and handing her the bowl. she lays down next to jester, easy and relaxed, folds her hands behind her head and stretches her legs out long, sighs happily.

‘i love these lights,’ she admits. ‘they’re beautiful. and not just because everyone else around here can’t figure out what the fuck we were on when we grew a tree outta the top of the house.’

jester grins. ‘yeah.’ she glances down, eyes flicking over the play of the light over beau, over her oddly serene face, over her lovely brown skin, the shining flicks of brocade to her new uniform. ‘beautiful.’

beau tenses.

jester lifts her eyes to see her friend watching her intently, but though the tension doesn’t ease, beau says nothing.

jester eats. pretends to doodle in her journal, trying to decipher the warmth in her gut at feeling beau beside her, the warmth of her skin, the slow even breathing, the occasional odd murmur as she shifts, pulls an annoying pebble out from under her back.

‘can i kiss you?’ jester blurts out after she has finished her dinner and set it aside.

beau’s knee jerks in her surprise and then her abs are bunching and she’s sitting bolt upright. she opens and closes her mouth a few times and then says simply, ‘yeah.’

‘yeah?’

‘if that’s what you want.’

jester frowns. ‘what do you want?’

beau looks like she doesn’t know what to say again. her shoulders press back—less of a shrug than a nervous shift. ‘i want...you to be happy.’

‘beau.’

‘i’m serious. i’d—do a lot to make you happy, jes.’

jester ducks her head, unsure of what exactly she’s feeling. happy that she got a yes, but everything else beau says makes her wary of taking it. it isn’t quite appeasement, but...

‘i’m not good at talking,’ beau says. shifts not closer but so she’s turned toward jester. ‘i’m—not great with wanting things. i’m kinda...a selfish asshole.’

‘beau, that is not true,’

‘i mean, it kinda is though.’ beau puts her hand over jester’s mouth so she can’t disagree. it’s silly but all jester can think is that even this small contact is right, is good, is terrifying but in this weird, nice, bigger-than-nice, fizzing, and did she mention terrifying kind of way. ‘hold on, i’m trying,’ she continues, and jester forces herself to settle. beau kinda looks like she’s going to puke, or maybe panic. ‘i’m—fuck, okay, i guess we’re doing this—i’m into you, jes. in a big way. and i’m okay with having that in, in whatever way you want. i’ll be your best friend, your roommate, your—protector,’ she says in an oddly stilted, awkward way jester realises is shy. it makes jester want to scream all of a sudden because she doesnt know what this is, where all of this is coming from, how she didn’t know that beau could be like this, be so endearing and warm and noble. she wants to scream because it feels like too much and too little all at once—beau is right there but it feels like she’s too far away, like there is this great yawning chasm between them and jester doesn’t know how to close it, how to cross it.

jester reaches up, slowly, and peels beau’s hand from over her mouth. turns so they’re seated alike, cross legged, knees to knees.

beau looks like she’d rather be anywhere else, holding herself so firmly in place that she’s buzzing with the effort of it. she looks peaceful and terrified, and it’s strange to see her own feelings reflected in beau, who sometimes seems entirely alien—brave and strong and brash and, and lovely.

‘i don’t know everything i’m feeling,’ jester whispers.

beau nods quickly. ‘yeah, yeah, of course, it’s fine, i’m okay with—‘

jester doesn’t know what she’s okay with because she sets her own hand over beau’s mouth. ‘i’m not finished.’

beau rolls her eyes. settles. ‘that’s fair,’ she says, words muffled.

‘i don’t want—‘ jester gulps. ‘to ruin anything.’ she thinks about the chaos crew and girls night and late nights with beau in their room and reading her romance novels together and shopping and thinks about fjord and— ‘can i kiss you anyway?’ she asks, feeling the bite of being selfish instantly, and beau’s eyes lose that little bit of tension in the corners, go sky blue with warmth.

jester’s breath catches in her throat as beau lifts a hand and instead of taking jester’s hand away as she had done, beau holds it close for a moment, kissing jester’s palm before she lifts it away. the touch of it feels like a burning brand, like somehow her hand is buzzing with life, with energy, like beau has made it—jester’s brain stutters over the analogy for a second, because it’s too big and too much, surely, but the words come anyway. beau’s kiss makes her feel divine, worshipped.

jester is still trying to wrap her head around that when beau leans in, traces her fingers down jester’s cheek.

‘yeah?’ she asks, holding back.

jester nods. closes the distance. so that’s how she does it, she thinks, and then she is kissing beau—beau is kissing her—and this, this feels... this feels. she can’t say right, she can’t say too much, she has nothing to compare it to, the way her heart feels to beat too fast and stop altogether, both at the same time. the way she goes hot and cold, and all her world closes down into where she is touching beau and being touched by beau. a hand on her cheek, the still-burning kiss on her hand, her own hand on beau’s neck, the skin so soft and the short wispy hairs that escape from her top knot tickling against her fingers, and beau is kissing her.

[theirondragonrants]

8 Thoughts on GOT 8X03 THE BATTLE OF HELMS DEEP THRONES STYLE

I have no God darned clue what the episode name is so I'm gonna call it Helm's Deep, no I will not accept criticism. That being said here we go.

1. The most Heroic thing

Can we give it up for the true heroes of this shit. Lyanna Mormont going out like a champ. She told men they were idiots and proved it in the end by taking out a fucking GIANT. Arya knew Sansa had no chance out there and if they were going to fight to the last man, Sansa would be what the survivors would need so she sent her to the crypts. (it also gave me flashbacks to Jon saying if he didn't Keep Sansa safe Eddard Stark would climb out of his grave to kill him). Melisandre fucking giving fire left and right like a boss, and GIVING THOSE WAR ENDING TIPS. Brienne holding the line with Jamie, Pod and everyone else fighting under her. Beric and the Hound hauling ass to save Arya. Greyworm protecting the retreat with the unsullied and then wrecking face inside the gates. So many great moments and people.

2. Everything that happened led you where you belong

It was definitely a line for Theon, and by the drowned God did he deliver, but it was also for everyone else. Everything they've been through, everyone they've lost, all they've endured led them to this battle, and every one of them was crucial for every moment whether we saw it or not.

And now to the man it was spoken to. Theon Greyjoy who betrayed the Stark family, drove Bran and Rickon from their home, saved Sansa and brought Daenerys to Westeros died protecting his little brother and I love that. Good men are forged in fire and like Bran said, Theon is a good man.

3. You were the best of them

For obvious reasons we couldn't let a lot of out the no combatants. Tyrion, Sansa, Varys, Missandei, they're all better at games that don't involve swords and fighting. That being said, I loved the little tidbits we did get. I really think that, if Daenerys didn't exist, Tyrion would probably give a thought to Sansa ruling the seven kingdoms. She's got the right name, she's stronger than Robert but gentler than Stannis, and she's been ruling despite everyone's doubts and doing a kickass job out of it.

Tyrion really was the best of her husband's and while I don't ship it, I think they would be a pair to be reckoned with. Sansa and Tyrion also knowing that they'd be useless in a fight but when the fight comes to you you've gotta get it together.

4. And now their watch is ended

I'm surprised we didn't get as many deaths? Granted I know there's piles of corpses that are a few stories tall, but main cast deaths were few and far in between. That being said let's have a few moments of silence for the good people we lost.

Edd, homie died doing what he had been doing for a long time, taking care of Sam who keeps freezing at the worst moments.

Jorah, he did just take Jamie's wish to die in the arms of the woman he loves. Fucking Jorah hauled ass out of Winterfell to save Daenerys, who had already done her fair share of fighting, and went out like a champ.

Beric, god dammit so I have a LOT to say about his death, but he went out doing the literal Lord's work and I appreciate him so.

Lyanna, she decided that the women wouldn't be left behind and she did her duty. She manned the gate, and held the line, and went out buying them precious time and instead of dealing with all those dead AND a giant, they just had to fight all the dead.

Melisandre, her fire went out but she fucking saved them. Like Beric I've got a lot of stuff to say about her, so catch that in number 8.

5. DRAGONS

No fancy title for this one because DRAGONS.

Daenerys and Drogon buying everyone time and doing the best they fucking could to make everything easier. But only Daenerys and Drogon. Jon on the other hand is a useless schmuck and I feel vindicated in how much I don't like him.

Even Viserion fucking wrecking face with his blue fire, and dog-fighting with Drogon in mid-air and still continuing to wreck face even after the Night King fell off? Amazing.

6. Jon Snow, not the prince that was promised

BITCH AM I HAPPY ABOUT THIS.

Jon Snow has repeatedly made stupid ass decisions, and been irredeemably useless on more than one occasion. Letting him be the prince that was promised would've been some utter bullshit, and honestly I'm so happy it wasn't him at the end.

He sat on his ass, on the walls of Winterfell, with full visibility of the trenches while the archers were desperately trying to light them and did nothing. He screamed at a dragon while Arya wrecked the Night King's face.

I am however very curious about why he got brought back? If he wasn't the prince that was promised then what's his mission?

7. Jaime and Brienne, a power couple

This is more my own fan service than nothing else, but God damn everytime the camera went back to then I felt my heart drop. Brienne saving Jaime and Jaime saving her right back? Amazing, iconic, I love them. And even in the thick of it they were still watching each other's 6s, protecting Pod, doing what they do and looking fabulous while doing it. Honestly I'm so happy to see they'll live another day.

8. Arya Stark, she-wolf of Winterfell, protector of the realm and slayer of ice zombies

HONESTLY I DIDNT SEE THIS COMING!?

What do we say to the God of death??? NOT TODAY BITCHES. Much like everyone else, everything they've lived has led to this moment. Every moment of training, all the names on the list, even that little training montage with Brienne when she did that dagger drop, everything led up to this iconic fucking moment. Beric being brought back to save her. Melisandre coming back from Volantis to save their assess. The Hound snapping out of his panic for her. Everything came down to that moment.

I'm really going to have to go back and see every clue that said Arya was supposed to do this, but God damn!

AND IN THIS MOMENT THE NIGHT KING KNEW, HE FUCKED UP

Final thoughts:

I know to a lot of casual viewers who came in for the fantasy, the show has led up to this fight and it's a question of now what? But really, the show is going to do a full circle. This all started with the Dragons, the Stags, the Wolves and the Lions going at eachother, and that's exactly how it's going to end. Be it as it may, this show is about the Game of Thrones, and it's time to play.

Episode Score: 9/10

[sgt-morgan]

The Parlor

Description: But what if we knew about the tattoos? The one who gave them? What if she was John’s lost love?

Background: I did a deep ass dive on the John Wick tattoos. I realized the ballerinas all had the same setup/ back piece structure, but they all had unique phrases and symbols. So here we go I guess, let me know if you want another.

Warnings: none, needles I guess, tattoos, this is just angsts fluff.

Russian: Moya Llyubov, Moy Svet = my love, my light

The tattoo parlor was a genius move. One or two blocks away from the Continental Hotel and consecrated by the high table it was a haven and an incredible employment opportunity for the assassin that wanted to be an artist, or for an apprentice who needed an income, or for those who wanted the benefits of the hotel without the pressure to stack bodies. The clientele always tipped, Gold Coins were the charge, and contracts were never to hard to attain. The Parlor was always hopping, and their best costumer was always willing to send them more clients. After all, the owner was one of there own.

Eva was by no means a small woman, she loved her curves, and every inch of them was covered in ink. Some done by friends, others by artists so talented that to buy a piece would be a bank breaker for any normal person, and some of them were done by her own hand. All of them, were beautiful. She always had her thick red hair pin straight and pulled back off of her face, she wore little or no sleeves at all times so she was always displaying her favorite pieces. Her blue eyes were piercing, filled with an intelligence that startled most, she had seen things, but her eyes also shown with a a joy that made men week in the knees. She was foulmouthed, crude ,and boisterous, always ready to laugh and fill a stupid request. Eva, was also deadly. Known also as the ‘Painted Lady’ Eva was a legend. She was know for killing small armies of men with ease and taking out big targets in record time. Eva was no force to be reckoned with and she enjoyed making sure everyone knew it, she enjoyed the attention. She loved to smile, always quick with a joke and easily entertained, she was a lover of the small things. The thing Eva loved best though, was her art. She lived for it, the feeling of the gun piercing the skin, the ink slowly filling up its canvas, the soft groans of pain, the permanency, the idea that every tattoo was a living piece of one of a kind art. Every new canvas an opportunity to make a statement in flesh. She was always searching for the perfect canvas. She knew who it was, but she never believed she’d get the chance to work on him again.

She did all of his work. And as far as she knew, he hadn’t gotten any another pieces since hers. The first time she was given the pleasure of inking his skin was the night he was officially ranked within the programming of the Ruska Roma, she was an apprentice in training to their tattoo artists at only sixteen , she did his praying hands. the first in the ranking system and arguably the hardest tattoo you had to get. The hands were the religious symbol choice of their class at the Roma, the center piece of his back work, and she detested them. Her worst work. He however, thought that it was a gift that she did them, because others, as he had heard, had turned out much worse and much more painful. She had been gentle and thorough, making sure the hands were detailed without causing too much damage to the skin so as to leave him in fighting condition. They didn’t speak, John was drinking, heavily, Eva still remembers the smell of the bourbon, the tense muscles under her finger tips. The light cursing when a line or some shading took to long. She finished and they went their separate ways. The next time she tattooed him was when he got his second ranking. The cross on his arm. It was a fairly standard procedure and just the same as last time she tried to give him the best work she could muster. This time when she worked on him, she noticed the supple pliancy of his skin, the way it took the ink with minimal protest, the way her hands were able to feel the bumps of scarred flesh in his new piece without it causing him to flinch in a way that would mess up her other lines as she continued to finish his piece. She admired every freckle, every scar, and even every bruise. The markings told a story and she couldn’t believe her work was adding to it. She wanted to know the stories. But it was over too soon.

She saw him around more after that, saw him in trainings, she was normally leaving when he was coming in, but he always seemed to be on guard. Always ready for a fight. She had seen him shoot, and she’d most notably seen him dance. He was good, very good. Strong, steady, graceful. He always seemed to float on air. In their line of work, that proved to be deadly. Then he disappeared. The Marines. Why he decided to join up? Eva would never know, or so she thought. The next time she tattooed him she did his flaming dog, the hell hound, a symbol of his patron animal as he moved farther in his Roma training. This time they spoke.

“Ah so I heard you’re a Marine?” She spoke softly, soothingly, as if speaking to a cornered animal. She felt if she spoke any louder she would spook him and would never get an answer.

“Yeah, specialty training and recruiting, I joined up.” He spoke quick, calculated. Never traveling farther than the point.

“Ah, I see, good on them for sending you, I’m sure you received some valuable training.” Eva sighed washing the excess ink from his skin.

“Indeed.” He nodded, pulling his shirt back on over his newly placed bandages, and buttoning it. Eva packed away her equipment and he spoke again. He couldn’t let her go this time without hearing that sweet voice talking solely to him. “You know, I request you specifically, I love your work.” Eva blushed at that, not knowing how to respond. “Be seeing you Eva.” He turned to leave.

“Wait! I never caught your name!” Eva exclaimed in a desperate attempt to make him stay. “ I’ve tattooed you three times and I never got your name.” She chuckled sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck.

“It’s Jardani... Or John, it’s up to you.” he said turning his head in her general direction so she could hear him clearly. She’d heard the name, and she knew that he was the same Jardani she heard called Baba Yaga. It clicked into place, and she shivered with the thought of his hardened body under her hands as she marked his deadly flesh. He went to leave when she didn’t speak. She frowned, displeased with his parting from her company. Then, she smiled, making a decision.

“Be seeing you... Dani.”

They spoke more often after that, He would go out of his way to talk to her, snagging her arm in passing, sitting with her while she sketched, Walking her to trainings. He would sneak into her room late at night just so they could talk, falling into a peaceful sleep when they could no longer hold their eyes open. They were as close to inseparable as possible at the Roma. She even let him watch her sketch his next piece.

“A lone wolf huh?” She mused as her pencil endeavored to shape the picture. “Can you howl then, Dani?” She smirked mischievously. She was always pushing him to lighten up, John didn’t ever seem to catch on to it though. He was always so serious.

“Would it make you happy if I did?” He said looking at her with his black hole eyes.

“Honestly? Yes.” She giggled looking up at him with sparkling eyes the mirth clear on her face. John couldn’t help it he chuckled a breathy through-the-nose chuckle and tilted his head towards the sky letting out the most believable howl he could.

“My word Dani!”The laugh that erupted from the redhead was gift enough for him. Then, a thought.

“Why Dani?” He questioned. He loved the nickname, made him feel less intimidating, and the last thing he wanted was for her to be intimidated by him. The redhead contemplated the question, the look of concentration deepening her eyes and creasing her brow as she continued to sketch out her task.

“Well, The Marines called you John, The Table called you Baba Yaga, and I decided that I called you Dani, you need a nickname that people don’t flinch at the sound of.” She nodded while still focusing on the pencil in her hand, “Needed one from a friend.”

That sentence melted him. One word from her, and he would have moved a mountain. A friend indeed. She finished her sketch and then etched it into his skin and he was gone again. They didn’t see each other for three years, but her smile haunted John’s memories. And the art that littered his body made him shiver whenever he caught a glimpse of it, and any time anyone would ask who did his pieces, he’d just smile and say “My girl did them.”

He didnt recall when he first started thinking of her as his, but he didn’t think she’d protest. That thought made him smile. He came home and he ranked out. He was to be contracted to the Tarasov family. He had good prospects little did he know, so did she. She was betrothed, rather against her will, to a member of the high table. She was terrified. She missed him, she didn’t think she had the right to, but she missed him, missed his face, missed his smiles, missed his eyes, missed his flesh. She missed her Dani. He came home and as the saying goes, absence makes the heart grow fonder and hers ached for him, and his for her. He walked in to the room where she was to do his final piece and she wept. John held open his arms and she collapsed into them, drinking in his scent like a man in the desert drinks the water of an oasis. Was he her oasis? Was he a mirage? She didn’t know, she didn’t care. He was here, he was safe, and most importantly he was hers.

“John, they’re making me marry him.” She wept. “ I can’t John, I can’t.” His heart broke, her tears hammered at his sanity. He wanted to kill this man, this man that would be marrying his heart.

“Shh, Moya Llyubov, Moy Svet , you can.” He hated the words that he was forced to speak. He hated them with a passion. “I will hate it, I will miss you, but you can do this.” Her weeping slowed, her body running out of tears.

“John?” Her voice another jab at his heart, “what will we do?” She looked up at him with those big blue eyes he hadn’t realized he’d fallen in love with and he crumbled as he answered the response ripping his heart from his chest.

“What we must.” She nodded, her face hardening, her tears drying. He told her to pick the words he would have carved into his flesh and she complied. Fortis Fortuna Adiuvat. Fortune only saves the strong. He hoped she was right. They said their goodbyes. She looked into his sad eyes and hoped to find the meaning of life. Then they moved, lips finding soft lips, his hands on her face, hers fisted into the soft material of his shirt. Their first kiss and their final goodbye. They resigned to their fate of never speaking again, losing their love, their sanctuary that they had found in one another.

They parted, fully expecting to never see each other again. Then one day a stranger walked into the parlor, one man in a bloodied black suit. One with rage in his eyes. Eyes that cut to Eva’s core. The framiliar chocolate pools that she loved from long ago. Finally.

[istheresomebodywhocanimagine]

Write It Down

strawberryfields-forever said: Ok so I absolutely LOVE your writing!! I was wondering if you could another roger Taylor Imagine where the reader gets really drunk and ends up at Rogers Place and he takes care of them and then she ends up confessing her feelings and you can take it from there? Please and thank you! Xxx

(a/n: i’m SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG I CAN NEVER HELP MYSELF FUCK also this layout might be fucked when i first post it but i’ll try to fix it ASAP)

“Roger, it’s barely midnight, you’ve got to be fucking with me!” you complained, nearly tripping over yourself as he pulled you out of the pub and away from the guy who you’d just been chatting with. “Just one more pint!”

Roger ignored your incessant complaining as he got out onto the sidewalk, the pub door swinging shut behind you, and he began to look for a cab. Cursing at the lack of cars around, he quickly realized there was no way you were making it all the way back to your flat, not tonight. “My place, then,” he mumbled, letting go of your wrist to wrap his arm around your waist, starting to lead you towards his flat that was just over 7 blocks away.

“My flat is the other way!” you protested, almost being dead weight against his side as he used all of his strength to guide you down the street. “Where are we going, you silly goose?” you laughed, leaning even more on him and making him chuckle at how sloshed you were.

Despite your embarrassing situation, you were quite enjoying Roger’s arm around you. Of course, you were using all of your willpower left to keep your mouth shut, because even in your inebriated state, you knew this was not the time to clue Roger in on your little crush.

“Goose? Is that what you think of me?” he teased, helping you across the street and flipping off a car that honked at you both. “We’re going to my place, you can sleep there.”

“OoooOooOh,” you drew out, wiggling your eyebrows. “I get to go to the goose’s nest tonight!”

“My God,” he laughed, trying not to drop you as he continued to lead the way down the sidewalk, your arm wrapping loosely around his shoulder.

As he walked the 7 long blocks with you, you blabbered on and on about the guy at the bar. He had to hear about how he was an old friend from primary, and how he’d bought you drinks and asked if you’d been to a late night chips place down the road. You said you told him you hadn’t, so he offered to take you but you didn’t want to leave, and that’s about the time the “big boss Roger” showed up to end the fun.

As you walked up to the tower block Roger was living in with Brian and Freddie, you sighed dramatically and leaned your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I tried to make you stay longer,” you mumbled, slurring your words quite a bit, but Roger already knew how to decipher your drunken ramblings. You loved that about him. In fact, there were quite a few more things you loved about him that you hadn’t told him before. It was a pity you’d become such close friends, because you reckoned that was the only thing preventing you from telling Roger how you felt about him.

He chuckled and shook his head as you both approached the stairs, Roger wondering to himself how he’d get you up to the 4th floor. “Hey, let’s crawl up the stairs, that’d be fun, right?” he suggested, hoping you’d take to the idea. You groaned before starting to crawl up them, knowing the alternative was being carried and that would kill Roger before you got to the 2nd floor.

Roger followed, snickering a bit at the state of you, but encouraged you all the way to his floor, where you decided to lay down. “Rog, I’m beat,” you complained, pressing a hand against your head and closing your eyes. “I think I’m going to sleep here.”

“No, no, Y/N, don’t be a drama queen, that’s Fred’s job,” he ordered, grabbing ahold of your hand and pulling you up to what could be considered a standing position. Throwing your arm over his shoulder, he managed to drag you down to his flat as you apologized for trying to sleep. He then unlocked the door kicked it open gently, calling out for his roommates.

You decided to join in. “Freddieeeee,” you sang, your eyes still halfway closed and heavily lidded as you laughed at how terrible you sounded. “Briaaaann, come out, come out, wherever you are!”

Roger carefully sat you down on the sofa, patting your head gently before heading off to their rooms to find them empty. They must have decided to stay longer at the pub than they had originally planned, which made Roger groan softly. He was alone in getting your drunk ass to bed.

“Looks like it’s just you and me,” he said as he came back into the front room, where you’d managed to pull off your shoes and sprawl out on the couch. Your heart fluttered as you realized you were truly alone with Roger, and anything could happen. Jesus, I must be really drunk if I’m thinking we’re going to do anything but go to sleep tonight, you thought. “Let’s get a glass of water in you, eh?”

You nodded once, smiling lopsidedly up at him before closing your eyes and humming to yourself. As Roger grabbed a glass of water and some Tylenol for you, he heard you start to quietly sing off-key, then suddenly, you stopped. After a pause, you called out to him. “Rog, come sing your harmony, you bastard!”

You then began to sing Doing All Right unbearably loud, Roger trying to shush you and try not to laugh as he reminded you of the upstairs neighbor who hated how loud they were. As if on cue, the upstairs neighbor stomped on the floor, which made you shut up and look at Roger with an impish grin. He looked adorable tonight, and you hated yourself for noting that. He was supposed to be your best friend and confidant, and now here you were wondering why you hadn’t made out with him already.

As you admired him, he couldn’t help but grin back at you. Shaking his head, he helped you sit up, handing you the water and Tylenol before sitting next to you and pulling his shoes off. You gratefully took the pills and water, then sat the glass on the nightstand next to you before laying down again, sprawling over Roger’s lap and making him raise an eyebrow at you. “I’m sorry for being loud,” you practically whispered, running a hand over your face before giving him a guilty look. “I promise I’ll be good now.”

“You’re awfully apologetic tonight,” he remarked, relaxing back against the couch and spreading one arm out along the back while the other hand rested on your stomach lightly. “How come you never want to apologize to me when you’re not a shitfaced mess?!”

“Oh, fuck off and die,” you automatically replied, reaching out to smack his chest playfully. As soon as you did it, your jaw dropped and you began apologizing profusely, becoming a babbling mess again.

He began to shush you again, laughing in between shushes and finally resorting to putting a hand over your mouth. Quieting again, Roger gave it a moment before moving his hand to play with a strand of your hair instead. “I think it’s time you went to bed, sweetheart.”

“No, I’m finnne!” you swore, though your drooping eyelids told him otherwise. He gave you a look, which made you whine and roll off his lap, crawling to the floor and starting to make your way towards his bedroom. “You’re such a bully,” you whined as you slowly crawled your way down the hallway, Roger following close behind and rolling his eyes.

“Do you want to sleep on the floor tonight?” he warned, which made you crawl faster and scramble into his bed when you got to his room. “That’s what I thought.”

“I’m sorry, Rog, I didn’t mean it,” you whined, crawling under his covers and peeking out at him as he started to get ready for bed. “Thank you for taking care of me tonight,” you added, wanting to get back on his good side. “I really ‘preciate it, honestly. You’re the best.”

“That’s my job,” he reassured, pulling off his shirt and tossing it in his dirty laundry as you watched him. You admired his remarkably slender build that contradicted somewhat with his status as a drummer. He didn’t have any remarkably prominent muscles on him, but he was still toned, and though his hair was longer, he didn’t seem too feminine to you in the dim light that was coming through his blinds from the city lights outside. Though, would it matter if he did look feminine? You found yourself thinking that Roger was attractive to you in any state, drunk or sober, angry or happy, mean or nice, any way, any day.

“You’re my faaavorite, Roggie,” you said affectionately, overwhelmed with admiration for him all of a sudden.

Roger laughed at that, glancing back at you before going over to his closet. “I’d bloody hope so.”

“You don’t have to take care of me, like this, you know?” you mumbled, still watching him as he searched for some pajama pants in his piles of clothes. “I know I can be a bit much, and you’re soooo fucking wonderful for putting up with me,” you continued on, Roger smirking at that. He found a pair of pajama pants, which he started switching into, so you looked at the ceiling out of courtesy and started to close your eyes. “I mean it, Rog. You’re the best, you treat me wayyyyy too well. There’s nothing keeping you here-”

“Well, it’s my flat,” he interjected, making you open your eyes again and shoot him a dirty look. “I’m sorry, go on about how I’m the best,” he laughed, starting to crawl into bed with you and making you scoot over as he laid on his side next to you, watching you expectantly with his head propped up on one hand. You were suddenly nervous, Roger no closer than he’d ever been to you before. You’d slept in the same bed before, but you’d never felt so much love for him all at once while in such close proximity. Unable to filter yourself, you continued.

“I meant, like, I’m just me and that’s alright, I guess, but there’s no reason for you to stick around and take all my bullshit like you do. Like, you’re not my boyfriend or anything,” you rambled, both you and Roger not sure where you were going with this. The alcohol still coursing through your body propelled you, however, and you kept talking. “But I’on’t know, I always thought you’d end up my boyfriend, as much as you put up with me, but I’ve pretty much just given up that idea. You keep sticking around anyways, honestly kind of scamming yourself, you are,” you admitted, avoiding eye contact with Roger and instead looking at his collarbones as you played with the duvet nervously. You knew you’d started to say too much, but your stupid feelings wouldn’t stop coming out because you were so nervous and Roger being right there made you even more nervous.

“You thought we’d end up dating?” Roger asked, no hint of emotion in his voice to suggest he leaned either way on the issue. He was asking more for a clarification, which made you even more shaky as you tried to compose a response that wasn’t horridly revealing. However, that worked out about as well as it could, considering the amount of alcohol you’d consumed before leaving the bar.

“I guess, yeah,” you mumbled, still afraid to look up at him. “Fred’s always teasing me about when you’re going to ask me out, so I guess after a certain point… I didn’t mind the idea of it anymore?” The last part of the sentence came out as more of a question, and you squeezed your eyes shut, mentally smacking yourself for sounding so terrified. Fuck it. I’m already this far gone, why not just let it all out? “No,no, no, not I guess. I know I don’t mind the idea anymore. Actually, I’m a bit bummed you still haven’t asked me out. What’s with that?”

“Very subtle, Y/N,” Roger teased, reaching up to replace a stray hair that had fallen into your face. “Fred’s been bothering you about me, has he? I’ll have to tell him off tomorrow.”

“Oh, please don’t!” you begged, quickly looking up at him with a desperate look in your eyes. “He’ll know that I told you that I fancy you and then I’ll never hear the end of it!”

“Well, now there’s news,” Roger commented, a blush creeping on to your cheeks as you realized how stupidly you’d just told him how you felt about him. Shit, you’ve done it now, Y/N. “You never said you fancy me, love, not until just now. What’s with that?”

“Oh, forget it,” you groaned hopelessly, rolling over to face away from him and pulling the covers over your head. The room felt like it was spinning as you laid there in the dark, and you took a few deep breaths to calm down. “Forget I even said that, I’m sloshed and don’t know what I’m doing.”

Roger began to laugh, tugging the covers back down and booing you. “Oh, boo you, I was just taking the piss. Look at me, I’m sorry! I won’t do it again.” You reluctantly rolled back over, giving him the stink eye as you kept the covers pulled up to your shoulders, trying to hide as much vulnerability as possible. “Now, back to the asking you out thing, when did Fred start to bother you about this?”

You wracked your brain, struggling to pull memories through the muddle of alcohol and embarrassment, but you finally recalled at least an approximate date and managed to choke it out. “A couple months ago, maybe?”

“Damn! He was supposed to keep his mouth shut,” Roger cursed, mainly to himself. “Also, you’ve been taking this from him for two whole months?”

“Yeah,” you admitted reluctantly, sounding ashamed. Then, your brain latched on to what he said before, and starting racing as you tried to figure out what he’d meant. “Freddie was supposed to keep his mouth shut about what?” you pried, suddenly propping your head up on one hand too.

Roger chuckled, then shook his head and laid down on his back, his eyes lazily tracing around the ceiling as he answered nonchalantly. “Well, if you must know, I told him I’d been thinking about asking you out a couple months ago, when we were recording one night. But I’d honestly been having so much fun and going out with you anyways these last few months, I didn’t even think about it anymore. I thought he’d zipped it, but that worked about as well as I should have expected… Lead singers, they have such big mouths.”

Your face broke out into a wide grin as you processed what he was saying. “God, I better be sober enough now to remember this in the morning,” you murmured, rubbing your eyes to stop the room from spinning and hardly believing what had just went down.

“I’ll convince you it was a dream,” Roger taunted, looking over at you only to receive more stink eye from you.

“I’m going to write it down right now so I don’t forget,” you stated, climbing over him and out of the bed in a determined fashion, Roger trying to grab you to keep you from leaving but failing. You clumsily made your way over to his desk and grabbed a pencil and his journal that he wrote songs in, flipping through the pages to find an empty one while Roger untangled himself from the duvet that you’d gotten him wrapped up in.

“Hey, don’t read that!” he exclaimed, nearly falling off the bed as he tried to scramble over to you, so you ran out of the room, nearly slipping in the hallway as you made your way to the bathroom and locked yourself in. Roger got there two seconds too late, banging on the door as you leaned against the other side, knowing the lock wouldn’t hold long if he had a key. “Are you mad, Y/N? Give me my song book!”

You ignored him, figuring he genuinely didn’t want you to remember what he’d confessed, and kept going through the pages. On your quest to find an empty one, something caught your eye as you flipped through quickly, and you stopped. Going back, you realized that it was your name that had gotten your attention, and you got back to the page to find a song titled after you.

Curiosity got the best of you and you started reading his scribblings as best as you could. You realized it was a love song, and your heart soared as you smiled wider than you figured you ever had. Roger liked you as much as you fancied him, and now you had proof.

You heard Roger start to unlock the door with a key so you unlocked it anyways, swinging it open to find a disheveled Roger. His hair was unkempt, the duvet still caught around his foot, and he was looking at you wildly as he tried to rationalize what to do next. You were just smiling at him, his song book still open to the page you were just reading, and you held it up to show him. 

Visibly deflating, he snatched the song book from you and put a hand on your upper back, pushing you firmly but gently in the direction of his room like you were a small child in trouble for getting out of bed past bedtime.

“I didn’t write that,” he lied lamely, just making you giggle and laugh as you entered his room, crawling back into his bed. “It was… Brian. Yeah, Brian borrowed my journal and wrote that about you! Right weirdo, he is. I don’t write that mushy crud like him and Deacy.”

He leaned on his desk with one hand to reach down and unwrap the duvet from his ankle, and when he looked back up at you, you were still grinning and giggling at him. He sighed, mainly at himself, and came back over to the bed, tossing the duvet over you before reluctantly crawling back into bed with you and laying on his back, staring at the ceiling.

“Whatever you say, Rog,” you finally replied, Roger groaning softly as he refused to recognize he was on the embarrassing side of things now. However, when you curled up against his side and draped your arm loosely over his stomach, he didn’t push you away. 

In fact, as you drifted off peacefully, he even smiled a bit and wrapped an arm around you protectively, drifting off himself as he realized that, no matter how embarrassing, he’d finally gotten what he’d wanted after all this time – you.

[stitchthebratprince-blog]

Yesterday was good day. Well as good is its going to get without you. I did something that i did not want to do but that you so desperately wanted when you were here. I cried when i saw Jorge, Alex in our house. In your home. I did not want to take them to go see you. I cried cause i did not want to do it. Not without you. I didn't want to deal with this. I cried but after that felt you in my heart. I still do. You gave me the strength to deal with this to persevere.

I was not prepared for the hugs. I wanted to just to shake their hands be distant and civil. I guess a bit cold. But i wanted to be on my best behavior, for you. I was though on my best behavoir. I didn't put Jorge in the ground like I promised him because my promise to you is more important.

I got to the mortuary early. I flew there to see you. I left them in my wake. My mom being who she starts to nag me about it. Trying to claim rights she lost long ago. Rights you made sure she knew where yours, when you were here. We protected each other.

I had to wait for Korrey the lady that is helping us, better yet me with these arrangements. I really wanted to dress you. My mom wants to be a miteda but i stopped her at the door. Your only fault was that you are very vanidosa. I knew that whatever state you were in you did would not be happy if they saw you like that. I went in before them by myself. I wanted, needed to do this myself. Well at least with out their help. Ended getting help from one of the worker in the mortuary. I put your pjs on 1st. I cut your toe nails. You always let them get to long. You should have told me you needed them cut already. I even cut the skin flap on the sole of your right foot. The one that always bothered you. put your socks on cause i know how you hated having cold feet. I put your crocs on in case you may have wanted to get up and walk around cause i know you hate walking barefoot, i hoped you may have gotten up to walk around for me one more time and told me anything and everything else you needed to tell me and to hug me and give me one last kiss. I even put on your nice robe in case i know how when you are outside of the house for a long stay like in the hospital, you dont like to be in just your pjs. You like to be covered up. You hate the cold but you also hate the heat more. But Your body was so cold.

Alex rode with us. He is a bit more respectful now or it could be that they are in mourning.

My dad and Jorge got lost or better yet I left them behind.

It reminded me of the winter when we would wake up in the morning and I would cook breakfast and you would come into the kitchen or when I would go to your room to wake you up and you would hug me and even though the heater was on your hands would be so cold and then you would be trying to get your hand under my shirt to hug me and steal my heat to warm yourself up. "Hmmm you're so warm. Give me!" And i would scream and we would play around and laugh while i tried to wrestle you off while in a loud and playful voice i would say ,"Stop! get off me dude! How are you so fucking cold?" We would only stop after the babies would start barking and dog piling on us and kiss us. You would let go and say, "Babies calm down! I'm not hurting your poppa! He is ok he is jus a big cry baby is all. I couldn't hurt even if i wanted to he is to big and strong. " i guess i am proving you right with the crybaby part now.

As I was zipping up your robe for the final time. You did something. Your physical body did something beautiful and wonderful. I was filled with hope that my prayer were being answered that there was a miracle and you did it you came back. Do you remember when we try and see what clothes fit you and we try to fit you into a pair of pants or i would help you get dressed in the hospital and you would be sitting on the bed and then lay down and throw your head back and huff and complain, "I've gotten too fat." Well you threw your head of the little brick pillow but without the huff. I smiled because i know you are still here with me. You are filling me with strength to keep on going. I had to finally agree with you that you had gotten a little fat. I see it now but i never saw it before because you were always so animated so vibrant and alive. Even in your sleep. But at least i was right it was water weight because they said because of the decomp you retain a lot of water and were beginning to leak all of that water. At least in death you shed that water weight right? Always with the extreme measures

To me you are my mom. To me you are beautiful. To me you are the whole world and more.

After i was done getting you dressed i called the family in. Who by now are as good as strangers to me but were never ever far from your mind and heart. Its been 10 years since i last spoke to them, a month in my mom's case. But I agreed to let my mom get them organized to see you on friday. Its what you really wanted in life and i denied it to you. You never held any ill will to me for it because you know i didn't want to expose you to pain. These people were toxic to you. You never deserved their hate. You never deserved their anger towards you. You never held any ill will toward them, all you had was love. You were not perfect but god dammit you were close to it.

They all went to you. One by one and said their good byes. They cried. They hugged you. They kissed you. They asked for your forgiveness. I had stop crying. There was no anger only a stillness in me. I felt all of this was very hypocritical at this point. I didnt say anything though. I didnt reach out to comfort anyone. I behaved. I let go out and wait and then we said our good byes. That soon you will be home to rest in your house. I know how you hate being gone from the house for to long. The babies miss you and i asked that when my time comes please let it be you that comes for me. Don't leave me. Please keep an eye on me. But if you can some way some how please come back to me. I'll need you no matter what. Its selfish of me but i don't care. You let me be selfish.

We had dinner. We ate at your favorite thai restaurant out here in riverside. I felt such warmth there. Not heat from outside we even got an extra thai ice tea. I guess that was for you. I drank it though. I thought you would not mind you know because of the lack of a physical body and you being dead and all. I know how much loved them though. I was so at peace yet so disconnected. After dinner though when we left the restaurant i had it out with them. I told them off. I didnt cuss at them Or say it in anger. I said it from the heart. I've started to let go of the pain and hate you were so worried would consume me. I guess you were worried about me getting angry but i didn't i only cussed twice. I laid all my issues with each individual person and told them how it was going to be. Jorge got angry i guess. I didnt really care not just because i exposed all of his sins but because i did it in front of his lady. I know what you would have said in the car. "You told them only 6 people. Thats you, my mom, my dad, alex, leslie, and him. He shouldn't have brought his entourage. But it was nice seeing oswaldito. He has gotten so tall." It was a reckoning. For them and for me. I did apologize to them because i know i was the only thing keeping them from you. I horded your love and attention. I tried to protect you. I feel bad because you wanted this, You were wearing me down on this issue, and i kept denying you. I know most of all you wanted this because you wanted me to let go of the hate and anger and i did.

Jorge left after that in a huff and mom wasnt happy eitherLeslie wanted ice cream so we went to the plaza. We sat around and talked we tried to talk about you but you know mom. She is so self centered and started in on her issues with my dad. I didnt want this shit eithe and i told her this. She got upset cause i shut her down. We left after that.

I had thought things were going to be bad and i had made plans i overbook. I should have cancelled them. I should have just stayed home. I just dont want people to think i am suicidal. Everyone keeps thinking that. I think but i am not. I wont hurt myself or the babies. They are our family. They are your legacy. Ohana! And what does ohana mean? It means family and no one gets left behind. At least now that you are no longer physically here i can start to fill the house with pictures of you and us like i wanted.

I still feel you here so i will stop with the day to day bs. I'll limit this to the things i cant say to you in public. Cause if people think i am going to off myself now they will probably have me committed if i started to talk to you out in public... at least when i do talk to "myself" when i am problem solving i'll be talking to you.

[english-blxndie-blog]

Extensive Backstory for my Fallen Angel AU

[Note: This is regarding his crimes against heaven and how he fell.]

After dying, Pip was sent to heaven like any good boy would be. He was delighted at first, knowing he would get to see his actual family again and be with them. Things took a tide for the worse though when the news came that he wouldn't be able to see Damien again. Ever. It wasn't common for Angels to leave Heaven, and even then they weren't allowed in Hell, and its not like Damien would be allowed up here either, being a demon. It was only common knowledge, Demons and Angels were not allowed to interact under any circumstances. It was forbidden, immoral, wrong.

He couldn't lose Damien, he had been the one thing that had kept him grounded throughout his lifetime. He grew up with that demon boy by his side, and he knew that Damien was good at his core, he knew that he wasn't as bad as everyone made him out to be. That’s why when he was told that there would be no further contact with Damien and he wasn't allowed to attempt any form of contact, he was more than upset. It was like his parents being ripped from him all over again, but this time it hurt so much more.

Tears streamed down Pip's cheeks at the very thought of losing his lover. He had to do something, and he knew that what he was going to do was against EVERYTHING he had ever learned. But he would rather be damned to hell than to be without the love of his life, than to be without the only person who had ever been there. He couldn't stand the thought of losing Damien, and that's when he made the decision to rebel against Heaven itself.

And perhaps Damien's corrupt touch had reached his innocent little heart just a bit too far- because in that moment he didn't feel wrong doing what he did. Despite the tears that shed from his cheeks, not once did he show anger. He was far too calm as he made his way throughout the beautiful heavens. It was the oldest crime in the book, the only one he knew that was for sure to bring the wrath of god. It would get him kicked out of heaven but he didn't care, he had made up his mind. He would be with Damien and if that meant throwing everything away then he would do it.

The gardens of Eden appeared before him and he slowly made his way into them, the lush and gorgeous foliage was illuminated by the light of the Heavens, making everything oh so much more beautiful. He made his way to the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil eyes staring up at the Forbidden Fruit. A pain burned in his chest as he began to reach a hand upwards, he knew that this was wrong- immoral. But damn his morals! He couldn't imagine eternity without the only person who stayed there for him through everything.

That was when he heard a voice behind him, a loud- commanding, powerful voice. "Just what do you think you're doing?" The voice commanded an answer, and it was in that moment that Pip knew he had been caught, that he had to stand up for himself for once in his life. He was going to do just that- he wasn't going to be weak now.

Fists balled at his side as he turned on his heels and glared at the Angel before him. It was obvious that this was no Angel normal though, it had to be an Archangel considering not even normal Angels were allowed in the gardens. "You an' ya' stupid rules of Heaven are why im here in the first place!" He screamed, tears falling as he shook with rage. "How dare ya' tell me I'm not allowed any contact with the love of my life? As accepting as Angels are supposed ta' be the lot of ya' certainly are not!" He wasnt going to stop there, the rage was boiling over within him.

"It's unfair!" He was choking on his tears as he barely got his words out "Ya' think ya' can control who I love, jus' 'cause he isn' the best?" He pointed a finger accusingly at the Archangel. "Ya' are good for nothin' if ya' don' think that people like Damien can be good. I've seen it with my own eyes, he is an amazin' person an' yet ya' deny me the right to even communicate with him!"

"Cease this behaviour immediately!" Michael's voice was strong as he moved closer to Pip, "You are in the presence of the General of God, and on behalf of the Lord I'm going to have to have you tried for your actions against Heaven itself." He made his way to the blonde, standing at his side and placing a hand on his shoulder before forcing him onto his knees. "You're to be tried tomorrow morning, and until then you're going to be imprisoned. Don’t think you can get off of this so easily." He paused before scoffing. "We had much higher expectations of you, Phillip Pirrup. It seems that demon really has corrupted you."

Pip couldn't move, it was like a higher power was binding him in place. His wrists falling neatly in front of him with a wave of the Archangel's hand. His face scrunched up in disgust before he spit upon the ground of the holy garden. "Hold a trial for me then, arrest me, but ya' will neva' break my spirit." A pain coursed through his body and everything started to go black. This wasn't being cast out- no this was being subdued, put under so he would be controlled easier. His lids grew heavy as he tried to keep them open, swaying slightly. "Ya' bloody bastard..." He mumbled out, head spinning. The last thing Pip saw was the cement of the garden walkway before his face slammed into it rather harshly, out cold and put under until his trial would take place.

"Get up!" The voices were harsh, yelling at him as he was barely awake. He struggled to pull himself to his feet and off the floor of the damp cell. An ache pounded in his head as he stood there, blinking at the guards. He didn't respond, he didnt know what they wanted. "Your trial is set to happen in five minutes. Be ready."

Pip gave a grunt of understanding before he sighed, looking down at his hands. All he wanted was to be cast out without anyone knowing, and now he knew that people would see him- they would shame him for what he has done. That was always the point of a trial- to make the person feel even worse about what they had done. He flexed his fingers as he stared at them, a million thoughts running through his head. What was he going to do now? Its not like he could take it back and everything would be okay. Besides, that's not what he wanted, he wanted to be cast out- he didn't want to stay here. It was in that moment that Pip knew exactly what he would do at his trial.

And when the holy bells of reckoning rung, their divine sounds radiating throughout the holding cells, Pip held his head high as he was escorted to the court room. He strode with confidence in his step, eyes forward as he tried to ignore the stares of the jury, the stares of the council, the stares of everyone watching. He was brought before the council, directly in the center of the circular room, the guards that were once escorting him had gone, and he was alone now.

His cerulean eyes stared up at the council, not caring for the room of others behind him. What mattered was how he would approach this, and how they would approach this. He had so much business left unsaid, and he was going to make his point across clearly this time.

The head councilman began to speak, voice cold- void of emotion as he read off of a paper. "Phillip Pirrup, you are here today on accounts of treachery against our kingdom. These accounts include the following offenses; disobeying orders of an Archangel, defacing the holy property of our Sacred Garden, and attempting to eat the Forbidden Fruit. How do you plead, Phillip?"

Pip's eyes narrowed as he glared up at the council. "I plead guilty." A gasp was heard from the entirety of the crowd as he spoke. It looked like they weren't expecting him of all people to be guilty of such heinous crimes. He could see the councilman beginning to get ready to speak once more, watching as he shuffled his papers. He took a step forward, speaking before the council could. 

"Do ya' know why I did those things?" He started off, "I did them because I am sick of ya' rules! I will not stand 'ere an' be told to abide by them when you deny me the right to love!" He brought his left hand up, a smile falling across his face. "An' ya' know what I 'ave ta' say, before any of ya' can judge me and damn me to hell?!" His gaze shifted to the audience that was presence. "I say damn ya' rules, and damn ya' all to hell!"

"I, Phillip Pirrup, Renounce my Grace!"

The room went silent as he stuck his left hand into his own chest cavity before he yanked out the very essence from within him. The essence that made him an Angel, the one that was keeping him bound here to heaven. He tossed it to the side, the silvery essence dispersing into the air. "What have you done?!" Shouted a voice from the crowd, a blonde woman pushing her way through the jury to the front. Eyes wide with shock as she stared at Pip.

Pip's eyes widened as he recognized that voice, he had no idea that his own mother would be here. And now that she had seen the stunt he pulled, he could feel his heart breaking. "Mum I 'ad no idea ya' were 'ere...." he started off, going silent. He could see the disappointment on her face, and he knew that he had little time to explain things. "Mum I....I've done this 'cause I'm in love. They- They wont let me be with 'im, an' he was the only one there for me after I lost you an' dad..."

His mother gazed at him with soft eyes "Sweetheart, you didnt have to renounce your grace..you still could have visited him on Earth and when he passed you two could have been together- here. And we could have finally met him- finally had a happy family."

Shaking his head, tears formed in Pip's eyes "No mum...." he started off "We couldn' 'ave...." He was about to explain why when a flash of light occurred in the room. Michael standing before him and he gazed down at Pip with a scathing look on his features.

Michael's hand moved from above Pip's head slowly down to his neck. A halo appearing as he did so, the halo moved from above the blonde's head to around his neck before constricting. Forming a lovely noose as barbed spikes appeared, piercing into the blonde's neck. Blood trickled down his neck as the puncture wounds formed, marking him as forsaken. "Phillip Pirrup. You have been found guilty of the highest treachery among us. Not only have you committed those crimes previously listed- but informants have told us of your relations to a certain Demonic Prince.” The disgust was evident in his tone, and all eyes in the court were disgusted with him for even doing such a thing.

Blood splattered out of Pip's mouth as he opened it to talk, eyes wide. He glanced over at his mom with pleading eyes. "Mum I'm so sorry..." he choked out, struggling to breathe at this point. If anything all it did was make it hard for him to be understood.

His mother shook her head, a disgusted look on her face. "I never would have thought that you would do something like this." She was a woman of faith, and to hear that her son was toying around with a demon prince was one of the most hurtful betrayals she could have ever imagined. "It was nice to see you again Pip, but I didnt raise my son to do such things. You're not the son I raised."

Pip could feel his heart break with those words. He had lost everything, his grace, his position in heaven, and now his mother. Eyes gazed up at Michael as they slowly grew more and more dull. The hope of the child that was once in them gone completely, "His name is Damien." He sneered at Michael. "An' he has shown me far much more hospitality than ya' eva' 'ave."

Michael raised his hand "I, Archangel Michael, and General of God, hereby denounce you as banished." He moved his hand to press against PIp's forehead. A bright light escaping his palm as he banished the blonde from Heaven.

A scream of agony escaped Pip as he felt the holy energy forced out of his body. The light radiated from his mouth and eyes, shooting out in beams. His wings sprouted fully as this happened, turning a dark black and beginning to fall apart at the seams. Feathers fell to the floor, stained the darkest of ink black. The ones that managed to stay on his wings had begun to form holes, becoming tattered as the holy energy was removed from them. The smell of flesh burning was overwhelming, and he could feel a heat rising within his body.

And in a few moments after that, he could feel himself falling. His now broken wings surrounding him like a cocoon, he couldn't open his eyes or breathe, but he knew what was happening. A small bit of fire began to surround him as he was sent downwards into the orbit of Earth. One looking at the sky at the very moment might think of him as a shooting star- but this was no star- this was an angel whom had given up everything for love.

[postcards-to-home]

Class is in Session

2/19/18

Yesterday was my first day of class. Here at ICMS it is apart of our dress code to wear either a skirt or dress pants, dress shirt paired with a blazer and our name tags. It creates this ultra preppy high and mighty professional look. Everyone seems way too important and busy to associate with each other. Thats okay because I had e-commerce + Digital marketing class with the Mirandas (there’s two of them) and it was pretty casual. I found the class extremely interesting while we discussed China’s digital market place and how Australia just got Amazon in December... I had to laugh when the prof asked how many people use twitter and I was the only person to use it in the whole class. Basically its only an american thing or used by people of the utmost importance. I think the most bizarre part was realizing the United States isn't the center of the universe. All our talks were about the world economy in respects to both China and Australia. It was as if America was as distant as China is to us. I also was mildly embarrassed when the prof caught me scrolling through facebook despite choosing a seat in the back but at least he knows my name now :)

2/20/18

I only have class Monday from 9-12 and Thursday from 9-4 with an hour break. This means theres a lot of down time as well as time to think and study. My internship doesn’t start until Friday. In the mean time I had to spend well over an hour to figure out how to use the printer. It sounds stupid but the Aussies are very much into the tap and pay concept. In Plattsburgh all I have to do is hit print and my stuff prints. Here I have to do some science and download the documents to a website, hit print, walk to the printer apparently then tap my card (Honest to god went off on the guy saying how the hell should I have known to just tap it instead of  swipe which pissed him off more because he thought I was a bimbo) and push some buttons and then it would charge me .40 cents to print a single page. Well shit my apologies to the nine people I had to ask to help me. Mind you before this i did spend two hours studying the textbook so theres that at least.

I know I am extremely dramatic. I get it, and i know I drank an entire bottle of wine last night but when my friend Mandy said I couldn’t use the washer with out cancelling my American iTunes account to download the washer app I almost lost my cool right there. This school is doing me dirty at the moment. 7.5/10 rating because I am extremely happy with life (one of the greatest times of my life) but I need clean clothes all the time. Let me back up my story.

So the squad had a brilliant idea to attempt Salsa dancing. Okay free shit I'm all about it right? No I didn't realize there would be like 40 people who were all confident in their abilities and knew what was good while I looked like a dancing skeleton in the back. So my roomie , god bless Alexis , came up with the best Idea to just leave and go into town. So I decided I was going to go to liquor Land and spend the 5$ on some wine and Live my best life. And guess what? I didnt regret finishing the bottle by the time they all finished their lessons. Life is amazing when you live in the moment, ignoring your feelings and just being yourself.

Thats the special thing about studying abroad. You can be yourself, entirely 100% yourself. There are no constraints, there is no one from your past life telling you how to act, or feel about any one thing at any particular time. You are surrunded by people, complete strangers at one point who develop into these beautiful characters that make moments feel infinite.There are those who are meant to foil our dispositions and  then  there are those who bring the eccentric energy that one is meant to congeal into this wondrous , chaotic group that is filled with nothing but laughter and joy , laughter from the bottom of my stomach. When’s the last time you’ve ever felt that sort of laughter ?just think about that..

2/22/18

Day 2 of classes. I already feel challenged in ways SUNY Plattsburgh could never offer. It’s exciting to sit in a classroom full of students both foreign and native and feel empowered by those who aspire to learn just like you. There are’t people in sweat pants snapping their gum on their phones nor kids with their feet on the desk snoring. Sure theres always someone e surfing the internet or online shopping but the majority of us are actively listening and taking part. For the first time in my 3 years attending higher education nI actually spoke in class BY CHOICE. I didn’t do it because I was forced to either. 

My first class was strategic management and it was honestly extremely interesting to learn about. I won’t bore anyone with those detail but those three hour I attended class flew by. Week one is always the easiest and although the work I have to complete in the coming months appears challenging I look forward to achieving and feeling the success of completing those projects. 

The classes here are small. With 18 kids in my first class and only 9 in my second class, Cross-Cultural Management, I felt at ease. In my second class i was one of two Americans which was strange to feel like a minority. Everyone else was from different countries as well. My group project alone is with a Frenchman  and Two Aussies. 

Funny little story about today. I sat down in class and this kid looks at my name tag-the frenchman and asks if I am french. My name tag reads “ Nicole Reine Casale” for some odd reason im the only person with my middle name on my tag. So the guy kindly asks if I know what my middle name means. Apparently it’s pronounce “Rain” which is not how i pronounce it. Anyways I replied no and he goes “  it means “queen”.” Like wow that made me feel like the baddest bitch in the room after that. Not really but it was a nice ego trip while it lasted..

Every day is always an adventure.There is almost never a dull moment. Like today when Alexis and i went into town to get groceries and our friend Jet offered to give us a ride back to school. So her and i both causally waited on what we thought was the passenger side waiting for him to unlock it and he just asked us if we were trying to drive home. It wasn’t even that funny but we cracked up laughing at how we can’t get used to the driver side being on the right hand as opposed to the left. Her and i always get into the stupidest shit. Just like how this morning I proceeded to wake her ass up at 730 am by knocking over the massive stand up fan on the desk  to which is crashed in to the ground and broke.

Lastly we finish everyday off by going for a run. It’s unbelievable what the hills here can do to your muscles. First I started running to the beach and then the hundreds of stairs near school. Alexis started to join me and she claimed i ran way too fast so we had Sabrina join to balance everything out. Theres going to be a pack of us by the end of the semester I reckon. Tonight the three of us ran to the manly cliffs and it was breath taking.God knows I love a good hike as long as Jaybae isn't puking on the way up like last time we attempted to hike giant!

.....And we raced all the ways back up the staircase in pursuit of happiness  ;)(Laundry to do).

2/23/18

My Internship started today.I was hesitant to take public transit from Manly to Brookvale where my internship is but it was the only possible way ad it was easy as hell. 

My internship is with Event Hire Services which is a company that offers a variety of rentals of furniture, linens ,crockery etc. I am working on the logistical aspects as well as monitoring the inventory and such. My first day was laid back as I was learning small basics and I went on a pick up with one of the guys there to check out how it all works. It’s exciting to not only learn from others on the team but to just learn from my manager and owner of the company as he is extremely knowledgable on not only logistics but as a foreigner himself offered a lot of knowledge and insight on the area we are currently living in. Little things like landline phone numbers are 8 digits and mobile are 9 technically ten but the 0 at the beginning of every line doesn't really �� count.” He was telling me that Aussies are rigid with their culture yet behind on adapting cultural things such as fashion and technology trends, however they use tap and pay as their most frequent use of payment which was interesting.

My work environment is very multi-cultural which his interesting because the class I am taking right now truly applies to my internship. People from all areas of the world work together and use english which is sometimes their second or even third language. I actually have to talk a lot slower for people to understand my language/ slang and often times have to explain what certain words mean. I also have to ask non native english speakers to repeat themselves or such and i find it slightly strange. We take something as simple as language for granted in the United States.People speak two to three languages across the world and i’m lucky I can speak english.

When I got a ride back from my internship i felt physically high on life. Whether it was my excitement for the weekend in combination with my lack of food intake for the day or what but I literally was bouncing off the wall. Life is spectacular I thought.  I don’t know who is blessing me this hard right now but I can only just feel grateful and hope everyday is as good as the last.

Here’s a few pics from last night to show some love to all my gal pals out there.Again the school had a bar party in the market place so of course we all had to find our way their. Unfortunately Kay had fallen ill the day before and couldn't make it out, but we missed her. Congratulations to Sabrina who also couldn’t make it but survived her first day of waitressing down under, we are proud!

Oh and i wanted to throw in a pic of these views! It’s very rare of me to take pictures so I am struggling to find any decent ones. It will always be a work in progress. 

I hope everyone is surviving & thriving at home! You are all missed dearly. As jay reminds me only 83 more days until my return!

Peace, Love & Enjoy the Adventure xoxo

[readbookywooks]

The Second Task

"You said you'd already worked out that egg clue!" said Hermione indignantly. "Keep your voice down!" said Harry crossly. "I just need to - sort of fine-tune it, all right?" He, Ron, and Hermione were sitting at the very back of the Charms class with a table to themselves. They were supposed to be practicing the opposite of the Summoning Charm today - the Banishing Charm. Owing to the potential for nasty accidents when objects kept flying across the room. Professor Flitwick had given each student a stack of cushions on which to practice, the theory being that these wouldn't hurt anyone if they went off target. It was a good theory, but it wasn't working very well. Neville's aim was so poor that he kept accidentally sending much heavier things flying across the room - Professor Flitwick, for instance. "Just forget the egg for a minute, all right?" Harry hissed as Professor Flitwick went whizzing resignedly past them, landing on top of a large cabinet. "I'm trying to tell you about Snape and Moody...." This class was an ideal cover for a private conversation, as everyone was having far too much fun to pay them any attention. Harry had been recounting his adventures of the previous night in whispered installments for the last half hour. "Snape said Moody's searched his office as well?" Ron whispered, his eyes alight with interest as he Banished a cushion with a sweep of his wand (it soared into the air and knocked Parvati's hat off). "What...d'you reckon Moody's here to keep an eye on Snape as well as Karkaroff?" "Well, I dunno if that's what Dumbledore asked him to do, but he's definitely doing it," said Harry, waving his wand without paying much attention, so that his cushion did an odd sort of belly flop off the desk. "Moody said Dumbledore only lets Snape stay here because he's giving him a second chance or something...." "What?" said Ron, his eyes widening, his next cushion spinning high into the air, ricocheting off the chandelier, and dropping heavily onto Flitwick's desk. "Harry...maybe Moody thinks Snape put your name in the Goblet of Fire!" "Oh Ron," said Hermione, shaking her head sceptically, "we thought Snape was trying to kill Harry before, and it turned out he was saving Harry's life, remember?" She Banished a cushion and it flew across the room and landed in the box they were all supposed to be aiming at. Harry looked at Hermione, thinking...it was true that Snape had saved his life once, but the odd thing was, Snape definitely loathed him, just as he'd loathed Harry's father when they had been at school together. Snape loved taking points from Harry, and had certainly never missed an opportunity to give him punishments, or even to suggest that he should be suspended from the school. "I don't care what Moody says," Hermione went on. "Dumbledore's not stupid. He was right to trust Hagrid and Professor Lupin, even though loads of people wouldn't have given them jobs, so why shouldn't he be right about Snape, even if Snape is a bit -" "- evil," said Ron promptly. "Come on, Hermione, why are all these Dark wizard catchers searching his office, then?" "Why has Mr. Crouch been pretending to be ill?" said Hermione, ignoring Ron. "Its a bit funny, isn't it, that he cant manage to come to the Yule Ball, but he can get up here in the middle of the night when he wants to?" "You just don't like Crouch because of that elf, Winky," said Ron, sending a cushion soaring into the window. "You just want to think Snape's up to something," said Hermione, sending her cushion zooming neatly into the box. "I just want to know what Snape did with his first chance, if he's on his second one," said Harry grimly, and his cushion, to his very great surprise, flew straight across the room and landed neatly on top of Hermione's. Obedient to Sirius's wish of hearing about anything odd at Hogwarts, Harry sent him a letter by brown owl that night, explaining all about Mr. Crouch breaking into Snape's office, and Moody and Snape's conversation. Then Harry turned his attention in earnest to the most urgent problem facing him: how to survive underwater for an hour on the twenty-fourth of February. Ron quite liked the idea of using the Summoning Charm again - Harry had explained about Aqua-Lungs, and Ron couldn't see why Harry shouldn't Summon one from the nearest Muggle town. Hermione squashed this plan by pointing out that, in the unlikely event that Harry managed to learn how to operate an Aqua-Lung within the set limit of an hour, he was sure to be disqualified for breaking the International Code of Wizarding Secrecy - it was too much to hope that no Muggles would spot an Aqua-Lung zooming across the countryside to Hogwarts. "Of course, the ideal solution would be for you to Transfigure yourself into a submarine or something," Hermione said. "If only we'd done human Transfiguration already! But I don't think we start that until sixth year, and it can go badly wrong if you don't know what you're doing...." "Yeah, I don't fancy walking around with a periscope sticking out of my head," said Harry. "I s'pose I could always attack someone in front of Moody; he might do it for me...." "I don't think he'd let you choose what you wanted to be turned into, though," said Hermione seriously. "No, I think your best chance is some sort of charm." So Harry, thinking that he would soon have had enough of the library to last him a lifetime, buried himself once more among the dusty volumes, looking for any spell that might enable a human to survive without oxygen. However, though he, Ron, and Hermione searched through their lunchtimes, evenings, and whole weekends - though Harry asked Professor McGonagall for a note of permission to use the Restricted Section, and even asked the irritable, vulture-like librarian. Madam Pince, for help - they found nothing whatsoever that would enable Harry to spend an hour underwater and live to tell the tale. Familiar flutterings of panic were starting to disturb Harry now, and he was finding it difficult to concentrate in class again. The lake, which Harry had always taken for granted as just another feature of the grounds, drew his eyes whenever he was near a classroom window, a great, iron-gray mass of chilly water, whose dark and icy depths were starting to seem as distant as the moon. Just as it had before he faced the Horntail, time was slipping away as though somebody had bewitched the clocks to go extra-fast. There was a week to go before February the twenty-fourth (there was still time)...there were five days to go (he was bound to find something soon)...three days to go (please let me find something...please)... With two days left. Harry started to go off food again. The only good thing about breakfast on Monday was the return of the brown owl he had sent to Sirius. He pulled off the parchment, unrolled it, and saw the shortest letter Sirius had ever written to him. Send date of next Hogsmeade weekend by return owl. Harry turned the parchment over and looked at the back, hoping to see something else, but it was blank. "Weekend after next," whispered Hermione, who had read the note over Harry's shoulder. "Here - take my quill and send this owl back straight away." Harry scribbled the dates down on the back of Sirius's letter, tied it onto the brown owl's leg, and watched it take flight again. What had he expected? Advice on how to survive underwater? He had been so intent on telling Sirius all about Snape and Moody he had completely forgotten to mention the egg's clue. "What's he want to know about the next Hogsmeade weekend for?" said Ron. "Dunno," said Harry dully. The momentary happiness that had flared inside him at the sight of the owl had died. "Come on...Care of Magical Creatures." Whether Hagrid was trying to make up for the Blast-Ended Skrewts, or because there were now only two skrewts left, or because he was trying to prove he could do anything that Professor Grubbly-Plank could. Harry didnt know, but Hagrid had been continuing her lessons on unicorns ever since he'd returned to work. It turned out that Hagrid knew quite as much about unicorns as he did about monsters, though it was clear that he found their lack of poisonous fangs disappointing. Today he had managed to capture two unicorn foals. Unlike full-grown unicorns, they were pure gold. Parvati and Lavender went into transports of delight at the sight of them, and even Pansy Parkinson had to work hard to conceal how much she liked them. "Easier ter spot than the adults," Hagrid told the class. "They turn silver when they're abou' two years old, an' they grow horns at aroun four. Don' go pure white till they're full grown, 'round about seven. They're a bit more trustin' when they're babies...don' mind boys so much....C'mon, move in a bit, yeh can pat 'em if yeh want...give 'em a few o' these sugar lumps.... "You okay. Harry?" Hagrid muttered, moving aside slightly, while most of the others swarmed around the baby unicorns. "Yeah," said Harry. "Jus' nervous, eh?" said Hagrid. "Bit," said Harry. "Harry," said Hagrid, clapping a massive hand on his shoulder, so that Harry's knees buckled under its weight, "I'd've bin worried before I saw yeh take on tha Horntail, but I know now yeh can do anythin' yeh set yer mind ter. I'm not worried at all. Yeh're goin ter be fine. Got yer clue worked out, haven' yeh?" Harry nodded, but even as he did so, an insane urge to confess that he didn't have any idea how to survive at the bottom of the lake for an hour came over him. He looked up at Hagrid - perhaps he had to go into the lake sometimes, to deal with the creatures in it? He looked after everything else on the grounds, after all - "Yeh're goin' ter win," Hagrid growled, patting Harry's shoulder again, so that Harry actually felt himself sink a couple of inches into the soft ground. "I know it. I can feel it. Yeh're goin' ter win, Harry." Harry just couldn't bring himself to wipe the happy, confident smile off Hagrid's face. Pretending he was interested in the young unicorns, he forced a smile in return, and moved forward to pat them with the others. By the evening before the second task. Harry felt as though he were trapped in a nightmare. He was fully aware that even if, by some miracle, he managed to find a suitable spell, he'd have a real job mastering it overnight. How could he have let this happen? Why hadn't he got to work on the egg's clue sooner? Why had he ever let his mind wander in class - what if a teacher had once mentioned how to breathe underwater? He sat with Hermione and Ron in the library as the sun set outside, tearing feverishly through page after page of spells, hidden from one another by the massive piles of books on the desk in front of each of them. Harry's heart gave a huge leap every time he saw the word "water" on a page, but more often than not it was merely "Take two pints of water, half a pound of shredded mandrake leaves, and a newt..." "I don't reckon it can be done," said Ron's voice flatly from the other side of the table. "There's nothing. Nothing. Closest was that thing to dry up puddles and ponds, that Drought Charm, but that was nowhere near powerful enough to drain the lake." "There must be something," Hermione muttered, moving a candle closer to her. Her eyes were so tired she was poring over the tiny print of Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charmes with her nose about an inch from the page. "They'd never have set a task that was undoable." "They have," said Ron. "Harry, just go down to the lake tomorrow, right, stick your head in, yell at the merpeople to give back whatever they've nicked, and see if they chuck it out. Best you can do, mate." "There's a way of doing it!" Hermione said crossly. "There just has to be!" She seemed to be taking the library's lack of useful information on the subject as a personal insult; it had never failed her before. "I know what I should have done," said Harry, resting, face-down, on Saucy Tricks for Tricky Sorts. "I should've learned to be an Animagus like Sirius." An Animagus was a wizard who could transform into an animal. "Yeah, you could've turned into a goldfish any time you wanted!" said Ron. "Or a frog," yawned Harry. He was exhausted. "It takes years to become an Animagus, and then you have to register yourself and everything," said Hermione vaguely, now squinting down the index of Weird Wizarding Dilemmas and Their Solutions. "Professor McGonagall told us, remember...you've got to register yourself with the Improper Use of Magic Office...what animal you become, and your markings, so you can't abuse it..." "...Hermione, I was joking," said Harry wearily. "I know I haven't got a chance of turning into a frog by tomorrow morning...." "Oh this is no use," Hermione said, snapping shut Weird Wizarding Dilemmas. "Who on earth wants to make their nose hair grow into ringlets?" "I wouldn't mind," said Fred Weasley's voice. "Be a talking point, wouldn't it?" Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked up. Fred and George had just emerged from behind some bookshelves. "What're you two doing here?" Ron asked. "Looking for you," said George. "McGonagall wants you, Ron. And you, Hermione." "Why?" said Hermione, looking surprised. "Dunno...she was looking a bit grim, though," said Fred. "We're supposed to take you down to her office," said George. Ron and Hermione stared at Harry, who felt his stomach drop. Was Professor McGonagall about to tell Ron and Hermione off? Perhaps she'd noticed how much they were helping him, when he ought to be working out how to do the task alone? "We'll meet you back in the common room," Hermione told Harry as she got up to go with Ron - both of them looked very anxious. "Bring as many of these books as you can, okay?" "Right," said Harry uneasily. By eight o'clock. Madam Pince had extinguished all the lamps and came to chivvy Harry out of the library. Staggering under the weight of as many books as he could carry, Harry returned to the Gryffindor common room, pulled a table into a corner, and continued to search. There was nothing in Madcap Magic for Wacky Warlocks...nothing in A Guide to Medieval Sorcery...not one mention of underwater exploits in An Anthology of Eighteenth-Century Charms, or in Dreadful Denizens of the Deep, or Powers You Never Knew You Had and What to Do with Them Now You've Wised Up. Crookshanks crawled into Harry's lap and curled up, purring deeply. The common room emptied slowly around Harry. People kept wishing him luck for the next morning in cheery, confident voices like Hagrid's, all of them apparently convinced that he was about to pull off another stunning performance like the one he had managed in the first task. Harry couldn't answer them, he just nodded, feeling as though there were a golfball stuck in his throat. By ten to midnight, he was alone in the room with Crookshanks. He had searched all the remaining books, and Ron and Hermione had not come back. It's over, he told himself. You can't do it. You'll just have to go down to the lake in the morning and tell the judges.... He imagined himself explaining that he couldn't do the task. He pictured Bagman's look of round-eyed surprise, Karkaroffs satisfied, yellow-toothed smile. He could almost hear Fleur Delacour saying "I knew it...'e is too young, 'e is only a little boy." He saw Malfoy flashing his POTTER STINKS badge at the front of the crowd, saw Hagrid's crestfallen, disbelieving face.... Forgetting that Crookshanks was on his lap. Harry stood up very suddenly; Crookshanks hissed angrily as he landed on the floor, gave Harry a disgusted look, and stalked away with his bottlebrush tail in the air, but Harry was already hurrying up the spiral staircase to his dormitory....He would grab the Invisibility Cloak and go back to the library, he'd stay there all night if he had to.... "Lumos," Harry whispered fifteen minutes later as he opened the library door. Wand tip alight, he crept along the bookshelves, pulling down more books - books of hexes and charms, books on merpeople and water monsters, books on famous witches and wizards, on magical inventions, on anything at all that might include one passing reference to underwater survival. He carried them over to a table, then set to work, searching them by the narrow beam of his wand, occasionally checking his watch.... One in the morning...two in the morning...the only way he could keep going was to tell himself, over and over again, next book...in the next one...the next one... The mermaid in the painting in the prefects' bathroom was laughing. Harry was bobbing like a cork in bubbly water next to her rock, while she held his Firebolt over his head. "Come and get it!" she giggled maliciously. "Come on, jump!" "I can't," Harry panted, snatching at the Firebolt, and struggling not to sink. "Give it to me!" But she just poked him painfully in the side with the end of the broomstick, laughing at him. "That hurts - get off - ouch -" "Harry Potter must wake up, sir!" "Stop poking me -" "Dobby must poke Harry Potter, sir, he must wake up!" Harry opened his eyes. He was still in the library; the Invisibility Cloak had slipped off his head as he'd slept, and the side of his face was stuck to the pages of Where There's a Wand, There's a Way. He sat up, straightening his glasses, blinking in the bright daylight. "Harry Potter needs to hurry!" squeaked Dobby. "The second task starts in ten minutes, and Harry Potter -" "Ten minutes?" Harry croaked. "Ten - ten minutes?" He looked down at his watch. Dobby was right. It was twenty past nine. A large, dead weight seemed to fall through Harry's chest into his stomach. "Hurry, Harry Potter!" squeaked Dobby, plucking at Harry's sleeve. "You is supposed to be down by the lake with the other champions, sir!" "It's too late, Dobby," Harry said hopelessly. "I'm not doing the task, I don't know how -" "Harry Potter will do the task!" squeaked the elf. "Dobby knew Harry had not found the right book, so Dobby did it for him!" "What?" said Harry. "But you don't know what the second task is -" "Dobby knows, sir! Harry Potter has to go into the lake and find his Wheezy -" "Find my what?" "- and take his Wheezy back from the merpeople!" "What's a Wheezy?" "Your Wheezy, sir, your Wheezy-Wheezy who is giving Dobby his sweater!" Dobby plucked at the shrunken maroon sweater he was now wearing over his shorts. "What?" Harry gasped. "They've got...they've got Ron?" "The thing Harry Potter will miss most, sir!" squeaked Dobby. "'But past an hour-'" "- 'the prospect's black,'" Harry recited, staring, horror-struck, at the elf. "'Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.' Dobby - what've I got to do?" "You has to eat this, sir!" squeaked the elf, and he put his hand in the pocket of his shorts and drew out a ball of what looked like slimy, grayish-green rat tails. "Right before you go into the lake, sir - gillyweed!" "What's it do?" said Harry, staring at the gillyweed. "It will make Harry Potter breathe underwater, sir!" "Dobby," said Harry frantically, "listen - are you sure about this?" He couldn't quite forget that the last time Dobby had tried to "help" him, he had ended up with no bones in his right arm. "Dobby is quite sure, sir!" said the elf earnestly. "Dobby hears things, sir, he is a house-elf, he goes all over the castle as he lights the fires and mops the floors. Dobby heard Professor McGonagall and Professor Moody in the staffroom, talking about the next task....Dobby cannot let Harry Potter lose his Wheezy!" Harry's doubts vanished. Jumping to his feet he pulled off the Invisibility Cloak, stuffed it into his bag, grabbed the gillyweed, and put it into his pocket, then tore out of the library with Dobby at his heels. "Dobby is supposed to be in the kitchens, sir!" Dobby squealed as they burst into the corridor. "Dobby will be missed - good luck, Harry Potter, sir, good luck!" "See you later, Dobby!" Harry shouted, and he sprinted along the corridor and down the stairs, three at a time. The entrance hall contained a few last-minute stragglers, all leaving the Great Hall after breakfast and heading through the double oak doors to watch the second task. They stared as Harry flashed past, sending Colin and Dennis Creevey flying as he leapt down the stone steps and out onto the bright, chilly grounds. As he pounded down the lawn he saw that the seats that had encircled the dragons' enclosure in November were now ranged along the opposite bank, rising in stands that were packed to the bursting point and reflected in the lake below. The excited babble of the crowd echoed strangely across the water as Harry ran flat-out around the other side of the lake toward the judges, who were sitting at another gold-draped table at the water's edge. Cedric, Fleur, and Krum were beside the judges' table, watching Harry sprint toward them. "I'm...here..." Harry panted, skidding to a halt in the mud and accidentally splattering Fleur's robes. "Where have you been?" said a bossy, disapproving voice. "The task's about to start!" Harry looked around. Percy Weasley was sitting at the judges' table - Mr. Crouch had failed to turn up again. "Now, now, Percy!" said Ludo Bagman, who was looking intensely relieved to see Harry. "Let him catch his breath!" Dumbledore smiled at Harry, but Karkaroff and Madame Maxime didn't look at all pleased to see him....It was obvious from the looks on their faces that they had thought he wasn't going to turn up. Harry bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for breath; he had a stitch in his side that felt as though he had a knife between his ribs, but there was no time to get rid of it; Ludo Bagman was now moving among the champions, spacing them along the bank at intervals of ten feet. Harry was on the very end of the line, next to Krum, who was wearing swimming trunks and was holding his wand ready. "All right. Harry?" Bagman whispered as he moved Harry a few feet farther away from Krum. "Know what you're going to do?" "Yeah," Harry panted, massaging his ribs. Bagman gave Harry's shoulder a quick squeeze and returned to the judges' table; he pointed his wand at his throat as he had done at the World Cup, said, "Sonorus!" and his voice boomed out across the dark water toward the stands. "Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One...two...three!" The whistle echoed shrilly in the cold, still air; the stands erupted with cheers and applause; without looking to see what the other champions were doing, Harry pulled off his shoes and socks, pulled the handful of gillyweed out of his pocket, stuffed it into his mouth, and waded out into the lake. It was so cold he felt the skin on his legs searing as though this were fire, not icy water. His sodden robes weighed him down as he walked in deeper; now the water was over his knees, and his rapidly numbing feet were slipping over silt and flat, slimy stones. He was chewing the gillyweed as hard and fast as he could; it felt unpleasantly slimy and rubbery, like octopus tentacles. Waist-deep in the freezing water he stopped, swallowed, and waited for something to happen. He could hear laughter in the crowd and knew he must look stupid, walking into the lake without showing any sign of magical power. The part of him that was still dry was covered in goose pimples; half immersed in the icy water, a cruel breeze lifting his hair, Harry started to shiver violently. He avoided looking at the stands; the laughter was becoming louder, and there were catcalls and jeering from the Slytherins.... Then, quite suddenly, Harry felt as though an invisible pillow had been pressed over his mouth and nose. He tried to draw breath, but it made his head spin; his lungs were empty, and he suddenly felt a piercing pain on either side of his neck - Harry clapped his hands around his throat and felt two large slits just below his ears, flapping in the cold air....He had gills. Without pausing to think, he did the only thing that made sense - he flung himself forward into the water. The first gulp of icy lake water felt like the breath of life. His head had stopped spinning; he took another great gulp of water and felt it pass smoothly through his gills, sending oxygen back to his brain. He stretched out his hands in front of him and stared at them. They looked green and ghostly under the water, and they had become webbed. He twisted around and looked at his bare feet - they had become elongated and the toes were webbed too: It looked as though he had sprouted flippers. The water didn't feel icy anymore either...on the contrary, he felt pleasantly cool and very light....Harry struck out once more, marveling at how far and fast his flipper-like feet propelled him through the vater, and noticing how clearly he could see, and how he no longer seemed to need to blink. He had soon swum so far into the lake that he could no longer see the bottom. He flipped over and dived into its depths. Silence pressed upon his ears as he soared over a strange, dark, foggy landscape. He could only see ten feet around him, so that as he sped throuugh the water new scenes seemed to loom suddenly out of the incoming darkness: forests of rippling, tangled black weed, wide plains of mud littered with dull, glimmering stones. He swam deeper and deeper, out toward the middle of the lake, his eyes wide, staring through the eerily gray-lit water around him to the shadow beyond, where the water became opaque. Small fish flickered past him like silver darts. Once or twice he thought he saw something larger moving ahead of him, but when he got nearer, he discovered it to be nothing but a large, blackened log, or a dense clump of weed. There was no sign of any of the other champions, merpeople, Ron - nor, thankfully, the giant squid. Light green weed stretched ahead of him as far as he could see, two feet deep, like a meadow of very overgrown grass. Harry was staring unblinkingly ahead of him, trying to discern shapes through the gloom...and then, without warning, something grabbed hold of his ankle. Harry twisted his body around and saw a grindylow, a small, horned water demon, poking out of the weed, its long fingers clutched tightly around Harry's leg, its pointed fangs bared - Harry stuck his webbed hand quickly inside his robes and fumbled for his wand. By the time he had grasped it, two more grindylows had risen out of the weed, had seized handfuls of Harry's robes, and were attempting to drag him down. "Relashio!" Harry shouted, except that no sound came out....A large bubble issued from his mouth, and his wand, instead of sending sparks at the grindylows, pelted them with what seemed to be a jet of boiling water, for where it struck them, angry red patches appeared on their green skin. Harry pulled his ankle out of the grindylows grip and swam, as fast as he could, occasionally sending more jets of hot water over his shoulder at random; every now and then he felt one of the grindylows snatch at his foot again, and he kicked out, hard; finally, he felt his foot connect with a horned skull, and looking back, saw the dazed grindylow floating away, cross-eyed, while its fellows shook their fists at Harry and sank back into the weed. Harry slowed down a little, slipped his wand back inside his robes, and looked around, listening again. He turned full circle in the water, the silence pressing harder than ever against his eardrums. He knew he must be even deeper in the lake now, but nothing was moving but the rippling weed. "How are you getting on?" Harry thought he was having a heart attack. He whipped around and saw Moaning Myrtle floating hazily in front of him, gazing at him through her thick, pearly glasses. "Myrtle!" Harry tried to shout - but once again, nothing came out of his mouth but a very large bubble. Moaning Myrtle actually giggled. "You want to try over there!" she said, pointing. "I won't come with you....I don't like them much, they always chase me when I get too close...." Harry gave her the thumbs-up to show his thanks and set off once more, careful to swim a bit higher over the weed to avoid any more grindylows that might be lurking there. He swam on for what felt like at least twenty minutes. He was passing over vast expanses of black mud now, which swirled murkily as he disturbed the water. Then, at long last, he heard a snatch of haunting mersong. "An hour long you'll have to look, And to recover what we took..." Harry swam faster and soon saw a large rock emerge out of the muddy water ahead. It had paintings of merpeople on it; they were carrying spears and chasing what looked like the giant squid. Harry swam on past the rock, following the mersong. "...your time's half gone, so tarry not Lest what you seek stays here to rot...." A cluster of crude stone dwellings stained with algae loomed suddenly out of the gloom on all sides. Here and there at the dark windows, Harry saw faces...faces that bore no resemblance at all to the painting of the mermaid in the prefects' bathroom.... The merpeople had grayish skin and long, wild, dark green hair. Their eyes were yellow, as were their broken teeth, and they wore thick ropes of pebbles around their necks. They leered at Harry as he swam past; one or two of them emerged from their caves to watch him better, their powerful, silver fish tails beating the water, spears clutched in their hands. Harry sped on, staring around, and soon the dwellings became more numerous; there were gardens of weed around some of them, and he even saw a pet grindylow tied to a stake outside one door. Merpeople were emerging on all sides now, watching him eagerly, pointing at his webbed hands and gills, talking behind their hands to one another. Harry sped around a corner and a very strange sight met his eyes. A whole crowd of merpeople was floating in front of the houses that lined what looked like a mer-version of a village square. A choir of merpeople was singing in the middle, calling the champions toward them, and behind them rose a crude sort of statue; a gigantic merperson hewn from a boulder. Four people were bound tightly to the tail of the stone merperson. Ron was tied between Hermione and Cho Chang. There was also a girl who looked no older than eight, whose clouds of silvery hair made Harry feel sure that she was Fleur Delacour's sister. All four of them appeared to be in a very deep sleep. Their heads were lolling onto their shoulders, and fine streams of bubbles kept issuing from their mouths. Harry sped toward the hostages, half expecting the merpeople to lower their spears and charge at him, but they did nothing. The ropes of weed tying the hostages to the statue were thick, slimy, and very strong. For a fleeting second he thought of the knife Sirius had bought him for Christmas - locked in his trunk in the castle a quarter of a mile away, no use to him whatsoever. He looked around. Many of the merpeople surrounding them were carrying spears. He swam swiftly toward a seven-foot-tall merman with a long green beard and a choker of shark fangs and tried to mime a request to borrow the spear. The merman laughed and shook his head. "We do not help," he said in a harsh, croaky voice. "Come ON!" Harry said fiercely (but only bubbles issued from his mouth), and he tried to pull the spear away from the merman, but the merman yanked it back, still shaking his head and laughing. Harry swirled around, staring about. Something sharp...anything... There were rocks littering the lake bottom. He dived and snatched up a particularly jagged one and returned to the statue. He began to hack at the ropes binding Ron, and after several minutes' hard work, they broke apart. Ron floated, unconscious, a few inches above the lake bottom, drifting a little in the ebb of the water. Harry looked around. There was no sign of any of the other champions. What were they playing at? Why didn't they hurry up? He turned back to Hermione, raised the jagged rock, and began to hack at her bindings too - At once, several pairs of strong gray hands seized him. Half a dozen mermen were pulling him away from Hermione, shaking their green-haired heads, and laughing. "You take your own hostage," one of them said to him. "Leave the others..." "No way!" said Harry furiously - but only two large bubbles came out. Your task is to retrieve your own friend...leave the others..." She's my friend too!" Harry yelled, gesturing toward Hermione, an enormous silver bubble emerging soundlessly from his lips. "And I don't want them to die either!" Cho's head was on Hermione's shoulder; the small silver-haired girl was ghostly green and pale. Harry struggled to fight off the mermen, but they laughed harder than ever, holding him back. Harry looked wildly around. Where were the other champions? Would he have time to take Ron to the surface and come back down for Hermione and the others? Would he be able to find them again? He looked down at his watch to see how much time was left - it had stopped working. But then the merpeople around him pointed excitedly over his head. Harry looked up and saw Cedric swimming toward them. There was an enormous bubble around his head, which made his features look oddly wide and stretched. "Got lost!" he mouthed, looking panic-stricken. "Fleur and Krum're coming now!" Feeling enormously relieved, Harry watched Cedric pull a knife out of his pocket and cut Cho free. He pulled her upward and out of sight. Harry looked around, waiting. Where were Fleur and Krum? Time was getting short, and according to the song, the hostages would be lost after an hour.... The merpeople started screeching animatedly. Those holding Harry loosened their grip, staring behind them. Harry turned and saw something monstrous cutting through the water toward them: a human body in swimming trunks with the head of a shark....It was Krum. He appeared to have transfigured himself - but badly. The shark-man swam straight to Hermione and began snapping and biting at her ropes; the trouble was that Krum's new teeth were positioned very awkwardly for biting anything smaller than a dolphin, and Harry was quite sure that if Krum wasn't careful, he was going to rip Hermione in half. Darting forward. Harry hit Krum hard on the shoulder and held up the jagged stone. Krum seized it and began to cut Hermione free. Within seconds, he had done it; he grabbed Hermione around the waist, and without a backward glance, began to rise rapidly with her toward the surface. Now what? Harry thought desperately. If he could be sure that Fleur was coming....But still no sign. There was nothing to be done except... He snatched up the stone, which Krum had dropped, but the mermen now closed in around Ron and the little girl, shaking their heads at him. Harry pulled out his wand. "Get out of the way!" Only bubbles flew out of his mouth, but he had the distinct impression that the mermen had understood him, because they suddenly stopped laughing. Their yellowish eyes were fixed upon Harry's wand, and they looked scared. There might be a lot more of them than there were of him, but Harry could tell, by the looks on their faces, that they knew no more magic than the giant squid did. "You've got until three!" Harry shouted; a great stream of bubbles burst from him, but he held up three fingers to make sure they got the message. "One..." (he put down a finger) "two..."(he put down a second one) - They scattered. Harry darted forward and began to hack at the ropes binding the small girl to the statue, and at last she was free. He seized the little girl around the waist, grabbed the neck of Ron's robes, and kicked off from the bottom. It was very slow work. He could no longer use his webbed hands to propel himself forward; he worked his flippers furiously, but Ron and Fleur's sister were like potato-filled sacks dragging him back down....He fixed his eyes skyward, though he knew he must still be very deep, the water above him was so dark.... Merpeople were rising with him. He could see them swirling around him with ease, watching him struggle through the water....Would they pull him back down to the depths when the time was up? Did they perhaps eat humans? Harry's legs were seizing up with the effort to keep swimming; his shoulders were aching horribly with the effort of dragging Ron and the girl... He was drawing breath with extreme difficulty. He could feel pain on the sides of his neck again...he was becoming very aware of how wet the water was in his mouth...yet the darkness was definitely thinning now...he could see daylight above him.... He kicked hard with his flippers and discovered that they were nothing more than feet...water was flooding through his mouth into his lungs...he was starting to feel dizzy, but he knew light and air were only ten feet above him...he had to get there...he had to... Harry kicked his legs so hard and fast it felt as though his muscles were screaming in protest; his very brain felt waterlogged, he couldn't breathe, he needed oxygen, he had to keep going, he could not stop - And then he felt his head break the surface of the lake; wonderful, cold, clear air was making his wet face sting; he gulped it down, feeling as though he had never breathed properly before, and, panting, pulled Ron and the little girl up with him. All around him, wild, green-haired heads were emerging out of the water with him, but they were smiling at him. The crowd in the stands was making a great deal of noise; shouting and screaming, they all seemed to be on their feet; Harry had the impression they thought that Ron and the little girl might be dead, but they were wrong...both of them had opened their eyes; the girl looked scared and confused, but Ron merely expelled a great spout of water, blinked in the bright light, turned to Harry, and said, "Wet, this, isn't it?" Then he spotted Fleur's sister. "What did you bring her for?" "Fleur didn't turn up, I couldn't leave her," Harry panted. "Harry, you prat," said Ron, "you didn't take that song thing seriously, did you? Dumbledore wouldn't have let any of us drown!" "The song said -" "It was only to make sure you got back inside the time limit!" said Ron. "I hope you didn't waste time down there acting the hero!" Harry felt both stupid and annoyed. It was all very well for Ron; he'd been asleep, he hadn't felt how eerie it was down in the lake, surrounded by spear-carrying merpeople who'd looked more than capable of murder. "C'mon," Harry said shortly, "help me with her, I don't think she can swim very well." They pulled Fleur's sister through the water, back toward the bank where the judges stood watching, twenty merpeople accompanying them like a guard of honor, singing their horrible screechy songs. Harry could see Madam Pomfrey fussing over Hermione, Krum, Cedric, and Cho, all of whom were wrapped in thick blankets. Dumbledore and Ludo Bagman stood beaming at Harry and Ron from the bank as they swam nearer, but Percy, who looked very white and somehow much younger than usual, came splashing out to meet them. Meanwhile Madame Maxime was trying to restrain Fleur Delacour, who was quite hysterical, fighting tooth and nail to return to the water. "Gabrielle! Gabrielle! Is she alive? Is she 'urt?" "She's fine!" Harry tried to tell her, but he was so exhausted he could hardly talk, let alone shout. Percy seized Ron and was dragging him back to the bank ("Gerroff, Percy, I'm all right!"); Dumbledore and Bagman were pulling Harry upright; Fleur had broken free of Madame Maxime and was hugging her sister. "It was ze grindylows...zey attacked me...oh Gabrielle, I thought...I thought..." "Come here, you," said Madam Pomfrey. She seized Harry and pulled him over to Hermione and the others, wrapped him so tightly in a blanket that he felt as though he were in a straitjacket, and forced a measure of very hot potion down his throat. Steam gushed out of his ears. "Harry, well done!" Hermione cried. "You did it, you found out how all by yourself!" "Well -" said Harry. He would have told her about Dobby, but he had just noticed Karkaroff watching him. He was the only judge who had not left the table; the only judge not showing signs of pleasure and relief that Harry, Ron, and Fleur's sister had got back safely. "Yeah, that's right," said Harry, raising his voice slightly so that Karkaroff could hear him. "You haff a water beetle in your hair, Herm-own-ninny," said Krum. Harry had the impression that Krum was drawing her attention back onto himself; perhaps to remind her that he had just rescued her from the lake, but Hermione brushed away the beetle impatiently and said, "You're well outside the time limit, though, Harry....Did it take you ages to find us?" "No...I found you okay...." Harry's feeling of stupidity was growing. Now he was out of the water, it seemed perfectly clear that Dumbledores safety precautions wouldn't have permitted the death of a hostage just because their champion hadn't turned up. Why hadn't he just grabbed Ron and gone? He would have been first back....Cedric and Krum hadn't wasted time worrying about anyone else; they hadn't taken the mersong seriously.... Dumbledore was crouching at the water's edge, deep in conversation with what seemed to be the chief merperson, a particularly wild and ferocious-looking female. He was making the same sort of screechy noises that the merpeople made when they were above water; clearly, Dumbledore could speak Mermish. Finally he straightened up, turned to his fellow judges, and said, "A conference before we give the marks, I think." The judges went into a huddle. Madam Pomfrey had gone to rescue Ron from Percy's clutches; she led him over to Harry and the others, gave him a blanket and some Pepperup Potion, then went to fetch Fleur and her sister. Fleur had many cuts on her face and arms and her robes were torn, but she didn't seem to care, nor would she allow Madam Pomfrey to clean them. "Look after Gabrielle," she told her, and then she turned to Harry. "You saved 'er," she said breathlessly. "Even though she was not your 'ostage." "Yeah," said Harry, who was now heartily wishing he'd left all three girls tied to the statue. Fleur bent down, kissed Harry twice on each cheek (he felt his face burn and wouldn't have been surprised if steam was coming out of his ears again), then said to Ron, "And you too-you 'elped -" "Yeah," said Ron, looking extremely hopeful, "yeah, a bit -" Fleur swooped down on him too and kissed him. Hermione looked simply furious, but just then, Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice boomed out beside them, making them all jump, and causing the crowd in the stands to go very quiet. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows.... "Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points." Applause from the stands. "I deserved zero," said Fleur throatily, shaking her magnificent head. "Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour." Enormous cheers from the Hufflepuffs in the crowd; Harry saw Cho give Cedric a glowing look. "We therefore award him forty-seven points." Harry's heart sank. If Cedric had been outside the time limit, he most certainly had been. "Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points." Karkaroff clapped particularly hard, looking very superior. "Harry Potter used gillyweed to great effect," Bagman continued. "He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr. Potter was first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own." Ron and Hermione both gave Harry half-exasperated, half-commiserating looks. "Most of the judges," and here, Bagman gave Karkaroff a very nasty look, "feel that this shows moral fiber and merits full marks. However...Mr. Potter's score is forty-five points." Harry's stomach leapt - he was now tying for first place with Cedric. Ron and Hermione, caught by surprise, stared at Harry, then laughed and started applauding hard with the rest of the crowd. "There you go. Harry!" Ron shouted over the noise. "You weren't being thick after all - you were showing moral fiber!" Fleur was clapping very hard too, but Krum didn't look happy at all. He attempted to engage Hermione in conversation again, but she was too busy cheering Harry to listen. "The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June," continued Bagman. "The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions." It was over. Harry thought dazedly, as Madam Pomfrey began herding the champions and hostages back to the castle to get into dry clothes...it was over, he had got through...he didn't have to worry about anything now until June the twenty-fourth.... Next time he was in Hogsmeade, Harry decided as he walked back up the stone steps into the castle, he was going to buy Dobby a pair of socks for every day of the year.