#and i didnt even ask one of the other blokes asked first ….
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//successfully invading a convo about marvel rivals//
‘So yeah i main magneto :)’
‘Oh you’re so cool for that’
Chat …………..chat im cool 🥺
hearing the word ‘magneto’ in public and being activated like a sleeper agent WHATCHA GUYS TALKIN ABOUT
#snap chats#i couldnt have devised a funnier way to interject one of them was like#‘yeah ask any guy right now and theyll say theyre playing marvel rivals’ cue me. ARE YOU GUYS TALKIN BOUT MARVEL RIVALS—#i love that playing magneto is cool …. thats my cool killer grandpa who i love to play as ……#i also said i mained wanda and jeff Sometimes and onea the blokes was like#‘oh so the people everyone hates right now’ OK LISTEN I LIKED JEFF BEFORE MR AND WANDA MY DUGHTER LET ME LIIIIVVVEE#i got their discords chat ……. i got gamer friends now im really evolving as a human..#and i didnt even ask one of the other blokes asked first ….#them seeing my magneto pfp prob like Oh So He Isnt Fucking Around LMAO#anwyay. i have to do a thing then i got a class#well. ‘class’ tech i dont have to go but i wanna give my prof my drawing >:)#BYE#i wanna play rivals so baaaaddd 😩
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Marvolo and MC AU
Being at school together part4,
Other parts are linked in pinned post under the Marvolo series.
Marvolo had no idea why he was doing this. Why was he waiting for her? Why didn't he just walk off to get his own potion ingredients? The more he thought about it, the more annoyed he was getting with himself, she intrigued him, and he hated that..
MC merrily made her way over to him, a sweet smile on her face as he leaned against the wall near the gate in his own world.
MC: You're here!
Marvolo: *Taken back by her bubbly greeting* Yes..You said you wanted to meet here..So here I am.
MC: I didn't think you actually would.
Marvolo: *small smirk* And whys that?
MC: Well..Heh, let's see, you called me a stalker.. You don't like me much..You-
Marvolo: Wait..When did I say I didnt like you?
MC couldn't help a blush from crossing hed cheeks hearing him say that. Marvolo saw it and narrowed his eye's, a playful little smile on his face.
Marvolo: First of all, you DID kinda follow me that night..Second of all, I find you odd..That doesn't mean I hate you or anything...And yet, considering I've been, well, myself, towards you, you still had the strange confidence to ask me to go ingredient picking with you..I found that, intriguing.
MC: *smiles at his words* Well, I'm glad you don't hate me..And yes *proud silly smile* I AM odd..Thank you.
Marvolo: *confused* That wasn't a compli- *sigh* never mind..Come on then..
He began to wander off, hands in pockets as always, MC watched him for a moment, before he turned back to look at her.
Marvolo: Come on? You little weirdo *chuckles*
MC giggled and caught up beside him, as they walked together she couldn't help but keep taking glances at him, her blush still obvious on her face, she really liked him, and even she didn't really know why. She was just drawn to him. There was something about him she wanted. They reached the entrance to the forest and went inside, finding an area where most of what they needed would be around. Marvolo knelt down next to a patch of Horklumps and began examining and picking them, MC knelt down next to him and went to grab some, when Marvolos hand reached out, grabbing hers to stop her.
Marvolo: Leave those ones. They're getting old.
MC: *looks at him* How do you know? They look fine to me.
Marvolo leaned in right next to her, their faces nearly touching as both of them looked closely at the Horklumps
Marvolo: You see that grey tinge, on the edge of the cap?
MC: Oh! Yes, it's very subtle.
Marvolo: Subtle as it may be, it makes a HUGE difference in your brew when they're old. And not a good one. So leave those. There's more around, go check them out.
Marvolo turned his head to look at MC, she looked back, he was so close to her, she looked into his eyes, and started crushing on him even harder, he narrowed his eye's, MC closed her own, and leaned towards him, like she was leaning in for a kiss, Marvolo smirked, leaning in himself, when they suddenly heard a couple of guys out of nowhere, Marvolo instinctively panicked, and before his lips could plant on hers, he pushed her back into a Bush, making her yelp in confused shock.
Marvolo: Shh. Stay hidden.
He stood, looking for the voices, when two thuggy looking blokes wandered past.
Bloke1: Well well, what we got 'ere? Heh...*whips out his wand*
Marvolo: *frowns and whips out his*
Bloke2: Wait..Thats Gaunts lad...
Bloke1: *squints* Oh shit..You're right.
Marvolo: *heavier frown*
Bloke2: Sorry lad..Go about ya business.
Marvolo: And YOU, go about yours..
Marvolo watched them as they walked away, before he turned towards the bush, seeing MCs face looking up at him, he couldn't help but chuckle.
Marvolo: You can get out of there now..
MC held out her hand for help, Marvolo took a moment to realise what she wanted, he took hold of it in his, and pulled her out, she giggled as she brushed herself off.
MC: Thank you, Marvolo. *sweet smile*
Marvolo: *small curious grin as he plucks a leaf out of her hair* Dont mention it..
~
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worked myself up so terribly. ive been thinking the most frightening and all too scary extraterrestuation (extraterrestial situation) would be if, like, we just didn't click... didnt mesh.... the stars did not align with us. and well if we politely just did not like each other. etc. etc. etc.... like you know what i mean. because you see, its always proposed, you know- the frightening potential wherein they'd HATE!!!! our pussy so bad. and sure, oh i do get a little nervous of that too. dont get me wrong. and i know lots of other people do too- you see its been done so many times in books and in movies and its even on the telly. always some bloke who writes a story like "llalalala and then the funny guys with lots of body parts sort of adjacent to ours but green shot us in the fucking heads until we explodied" and when the blokes writes the story, he grins to himself and i think he writes a love heart above the i in apocalypse (he puts one in so he can do that) because he loves this little story of his when he imagines all the scary guys from outer space coming down to shoot us with guns and blood and slime. and like i think its a bit scary too like i said but im just ... i dont know... uhm well isnt this all embarassing to bare yourself like this, but also to bare yourself in a way where its like "oh fucking hell, we get it youre a relatable tumblr user" but sniff sniff dont you think it would just be a little worse off if they didnt even want to blow heads up goo style and they didnt even not DISlike us but maybe oh- oh gosh we make first contact remotely and we're all soooo excited but then we go through a whole palaver to get to one another and its like gassed up and there's like a big welcome party with balloons and confetti maybe at pizza hut so we get to use the ice cream machines there but then we all finally sit down and uhm... its just dead you know.... its just dead air between us. like a tinder date. like they dont even have a substantial reason to not really gel with us they just sort of get the ick and its one of those things you know where we dont all fall in love with everyone we meet and its a bittersweet fact that is, you know, that you dont truly purse your lips at until the taste is in your mouth and you have to really fucking demolish the coke zero you ordered to swish it out like all of this anticipation and for what and your alien bestie is just sort of fidgeting all uncomfortable like, kinda shredding the napkins and you dont even think you want to ask if theres a second date because youre not sure you want one either, that fleeting feeling of "ah, well theyre not it for me, babe" except it isnt even fleeting its sustained because unlike the words of comfort you can try to tide yourself over with, this truly might just be not just a once in a life time sort of chance but a once in a many lifetimes sort of venture and its sooooo awkward because its like its not like you guys can really even try or force it you know and its not like they did anything or you did anything like none of us went into here with sour intentions and the only mistake was the hopefulness we had but its like oh christ. oh fucking hell. they just dont really fancy spending the time with us i think im shaking...
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im back!! well not totally back, but i have a treat for you ;)
idk if you are comfortable with sex tapes, if youre not you can ignore this
it's about nev with the hot popular person who everybody wants :)
okay so, the reader and neville are dating in secret, but the reader wants neville to tell people that theyre dating, and as neville expected, no one believed him
neville is sad and the reader wants to cheer him up, so, why not have sex with him right? it's the best way to cheer someone up
but the reader wants to spice things up with the idea of recording a sex tape
nev is like "sure! why not?" cause he LOVES that kind of thing
they record the sex tape, they watch it, and they watch it again, and again, and they love it, and they do it again...
a few days later the tape was """""accidentaly""""" leaked
and everyone watch it, and they are SO FUCKING SURPRISED due to the fact that not only neville is dating the hottest person in school, but also cause in the tape, he is fucking them into oblivion, and people never thought about neville being a dom and rough during sex, actualy people didnt even imagined that neville had sex SHDISKDJJS
now sweet neville is happy and can hug and kiss his fit s/o in the hallway with confidence cause now, everybody knows he has a hot s/o and a massive dick
thank u for your atention <3
idk if this has anything to do with exhibition, but if it does, hope you liked it cause i know you have a kink for that
~🌻
PRONOUNS: SHE/HER
erkkr 🌻 anon, you remembered one of my kinks? pls that's so cute ily <3 also I didn't know which pronouns you wanted so if you want I can probably go back and change it if these aren't to your liking!
"I know you're upset Nev, but this was your idea in the first place darling." (Y/n) said, straddling the boy as they stroked his cheek. She placed a peck on his lips, pulling away to look into his hazel eyes.
"I-I know but I didn't think that would include me having to watch blokes flirt with you and be able to do nothing about it!" He huffed out, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend's waist. (Y/n) stood up in front of him, a flirty look present on her face.
"Well," she started as she began to unbutton her shirt, dropping then thin white material to reveal her bra, "There is something you can do about it." his face flushed as he motioned her over, pulling her panties down before stuffing them in his back pocket. Gripping her waist with one hand, he used his other to flip up her skirt, revealing her slick covered folds.
"Yeah? What would that be pretty girl, having me mark you up? Leave bites and bruises all over this pretty little body of yours?" The boy ran his thick digits along her messy cunt, chuckling as she whimpered, nodding and urging him to go further. "Use your words, bunny."
"P-please touch me Nev. Want you to mark me and make me yours.." she felt her eyes roll to the back of her head as his thick fingers curved inside of her, letting out a sigh as he began to pump them in and out. The girl climbed into his lap, resting her head on his shoulder as he began to speed up his pace, tips brushing against the spongy surface of her cervix. Her eyes landed on her phone across the room, still positioned on the tripod from a photoshoot she had of herself earlier. "W-wait, I wanna try something...."
----------------------------
(Y/n) was completely confused. Ever since she had made her way from her room this morning, eyes followed her every move. That wasn't the uncommon part, no that happened quite a bit. The uncommon part was the unusual whispers that came with them. She felt relieved when her friends approached her, same treatment as they usually gave her.
"Ya know (Y/n), I should've known you'd go for someone like Longbottom. I mean I never saw the appeal but after seeing that little tape of yours, I can see why!" Sasha giggled, nudging her friend along with Sophie on the girl's other side. (Y/n) felt herself grow dizzy.
"T-tape?!" she squeaked, watching as Sophie pulled her phone out, handing it over to the girl. (Y/n) watched herself on the screen with wide eyes.
Tossled hair, puffy lips, and thick mascara tears running down her face, she watched as Neville lifted her up flush against his chest, tightening the grip he had around it. He smirked into the camera, pulling out of her as he rubbed his monster of a cock along her folds, light reflecting off the piercing in the tip. His dick was a sight, long and thick, inches upon inches covered with a mix of their juices.
(Y/n) let out a series of whimpers, crying and whining from the loss of him inside of her, causing him to turn her head to look at him some. He pecked her lips before turning her messy face to look at the camera. He looked down at her, eyes filled with lust and admiration.
"Tell the camera who's you are, pet or daddy's not putting it back in." He stated, continuing to rub and slap his cock along her folds. She whimpered, blabbering something incoherent which caused him to cackle. "Oh come on, puppy, daddy knows you can do better than that."
"Y-yours Nev! Daddy's whore." she cried out, letting out a series of yesses as he slid back into her at full force. "G-good, feels so good! Neville's good girl, all yours." he released his firm grip on her face, patting it gently as he tightened his hand around her throat more, continuing to fuck her as he admired his work in the reflection of the phone screen.
"I-I've seen enough! Here, take it back." she shrieked, handing the phone back to her friend trying to ignore the heat in her cheek and the pooling in her panties (which she was lucky Neville hadn't taken already). "Let's go, I've gotta find him!"
-------------------------------
Neville had been enjoying the attention he had been receiving all day. How could he not? All those poor, jealous, lovesick boys envious of him? Some of the most well known boys in the castle, begging him for even a word of what his baby's cunt feels like. He'd never tell them though, he had so snarkly replied to each one of them with something along the lines of 'you've got a hand, I'm sure you can use your imagination'. However one thing was obvious: he'd never miss the opportunity to brag about it to the boys.
"I just, I'm in shock! You're fucking (L/n)?!" Ron exclaimed, standing up from the ratty couch as he ran his fingers through his hair. Neville chuckled, smirking some as he examined his friends' jealous expressions.
"Well I'm not just fucking her, she's my bird." he shrugged, as if it wasn't the most shocking thing they'd heard in a while.
"Yeah, yeah that's nice. Not to be rude but," Harry cleared his throat as he pushed his glasses up his nose. "You have sex? Was she your first time?"
"(Y/n)? God no. I was hers however." he turned his attention back to his phone screen, which everyone's eyes was currently on. Since most, if not all the castle had seen it, what was the problem with watching it with the boys?
"I'm not surprised Neville has sex, he's my boy!" Seamus exclaimed, patting the boy in question's back way too hard. "I'm more so surprised that he's a beast of a man, like look at that!"
Neville spit in the girl's mouth, hooking his fingers on the inside of her mouth. He used his leverage on it to hold her up, stretching her mouth back as he continued to pound her. (Y/n) let out multiple screams and moans, tears continuing to poor down her face.
"God she's so pretty like that." Neville sighed, leaning back as he looked at the ceiling. However, something caught his attention out the corner of his eye. He smiled as a familiar set of beautiful (s/c) legs made their way over to him. Seamus quickly turned off the screen, all of them freezing up as the girl and her posse stopped in front of them.
"Wow, I-"
"You're, you're..."
"I-I..."
"Hi petal, you alright?" He asked, hovering above the girl as he stroked her cheek. She nodded some before pouting.
"Yeah, I would be better if half the school hadn't seen my tits before the time I even woke up! How'd you manage to leak it anyways?" she whispered, hiding her face in his chest to avoid the horny gazes of his friends.
"To be fair, I thought I hit your name not all contacts!" he lied, causing her to look up. She looked at his ears before gasping looking back up at him again as she punched his shoulder.
"Neville Longbottom, you leaked it on purpose?! Don't even lie again, your ears always get red when you lie!" she huffed out, turning away from him. "I wouldn't have had a problem with releasing it if you had just asked. I will admit though, it is kinda nice not having to hide and sneak around anymore."
"I'm still not over the fact that he has a piercing.....and thigh tattoo!" Dean finally spoke up, catching everyone's attention. It grew silent for a bit before they all began to laugh.
"Well there's a lot you don't know about me."
"I think it's better that way after this. I don't know how much more Neville I wanna get to know."
TAGSLIST: @princesslaiahg @elemental-of-magic @pink-hufflepuff @nevillelongbottomlover @ezra-my-beloved @vayeya11 @beewitchedlou @redpanda-poetry @nevillelongbottomsgirlfriend @De4d-s0up
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Sick Little Games
George Weasley x Reader, Draco Malfoy x Reader
Y/N and Draco were known as the ultimate slytherin duo. When she catches him in the act of infidelity, she makes it a goal to hurt him back as much as he hurt her. What starts as nothing but a sick little game, turns into something more with another red headed boy.
“what would malfoy think if he knew i was fucking his girl right now?” george grunted in my ear, hips thrusting into mine while my back was pressed against the prefect bathroom’s cold stone wall. my legs were wrapped around his waist, sultry moans tumbling out of my mouth as he fucked me senseless. his words only intensified the pleasure as i gripped on to his biceps for support. he could feel my wet pussy clenching around his throbbing cock, signfying that i was close to coming.
“what would your little boyfriend think if he knew how well you take my cum?” i let out a whimper as his thick cock hit my gspot, making my vision go completely white. “fuck y/n,” he grunted as his pace quickened. i let out a string of curse words, toes curling in pleasure as he rubbed my clit with his long slender fingers as we reached our orgasms together.
his movements slowed and eventually halted, cock still balls deep in me as he placed loving kisses all over my face. he slowly released me from his hold, planting my feet back on the ground before completely removing himself from me. with our chests still heaving, we transitioned from standing by the bathroom’s windows, to the warm bubbly bath. this was common thing for us, so naturally we were able to establish a routine. sneaking out of the dorms late at night to see each other, satisfying our thirsts for each other before taking a dip in the bath to relax and cleanse ourselves of our sins.
george’s hands worked its way down my neck and shoulders, rubbing out any knots while he gave me little pecks on my forehead. i smiled my first genuine smile of the day. i was constantly dragging myself throughout the day, in and out of my classes, plastering a fake smile until the clock struck a certain time at night where i would meet up with george. “so why are you still with that git anyways?”
i rolled my eyes at his choice of words. i considered not even replying at all, but one glance at his concentrated face with that accusational eyebrow raise, and i knew this was something he wasnt going to drop again.
“he loves me,” i sighed, shrugging my shoulders.
“he loves you? is that why you caught him fucking pansy parkinson in the forbidden section of the library?” georges hostile tone rang in my ears.
it was supposed to be our date night. draco knew how stressed i had been with all our recent exams, and how much i needed a break. my sweet, loving boyfriend of almost 2 years proposed we have a date night full of snuggles and snacks to relieve my stress. after getting dolled up and waiting in our slytherin common room for over an hour, i came to terms with the fact that he wasn’t going to show up.
the silly thing was, i really tried to make excuses for him. blaise had strolled past on his way up to his dorm and asked why i was sitting there all alone. “just waiting on draco,” id say passively, in which he’d give me a pitiful smile before heading up. i thought, maybe he just got caught up on some of his prefect duties. or maybe he took a nap and overslept. or maybe he even got detention for the day, but he would never forget about me, right? surely he couldn’t forget about his own plans that he made.
i’d grown tired of sitting there all alone, letting my thoughts eat me alive. so i grabbed my book bag and decided to head to the library to get a head start on some homework. walking deeper and deeper into the dark library, thats when i heard it. the faint gasps and moans coming from a high pitched female voice. “ugh,” i thought, “who wouldn’t even have the decency to go to a private spot?”
i rounded the corner, my eyes almost bulging out of my skull as i took in the sight in front of me. a bright platinum head of hair stuffed into the crook of pansy parkinsons neck, as he fucked her on one of the library desks with her skirt hitched all the way up. they had been so into it that they didnt even see me. what gave it away was some stupid lamp falling over as i rushed out of the library, tears in my eyes. athough they stopped at the sound indicating someone was there, they never knew it was me.
my vision was blurry, tears streaming faster down my cheeks as i ran away. i wasnt sure where i was going, but i knew i had to be as far away as possible from that complete and utter asshole. from the second i saw him til now, a million feelings coursed through my body. i was devastated, devastated that the man i loved for 2 whole years had been lying to my face. how long was he unloyal for? was this the first time? these unanswered questions made me transition from grief to rage. i was infuriated that he took me as some kind of fool who would never find out about his cheating ways. i had been so caught up in my emotions that i didnt notice where i was going, smacking face first into a very toned chest.
“Woah! Y/N? You alright there, love?” George’s voice was impossible not to recognize. “Oh, I-I’m sorry,” I gasped before turning around to leave. His warm hand clasped around my wrist softly, tugging me back as one of his hands lifted my chin up so that he could inspect my face, and most importantly my blood shot eyes.
“You’re crying,” his voice was a lot softer than i’ve ever heard it before. with him being a gryffindor and me being a slytherin, i was used to the rude remarks he’d yell at us in the hallways. him and his lovely twin have always made my life here at hogwarts a living hell. as of recently, he went from constant bullying to the exact opposite. he was always throwing complements my way as loud and obnoxious as possible. and i knew he did it just to get a rise out of his most hated slytherin of all, draco. draco was always a possesive boyfriend, not wanting any guys to look at me. but having a weasley complement me out of everyone else would’ve drove him absolutely mad.
however, what started out as an excuse to piss off draco, had turned into something else. george couldn’t help but notice how my eyes were a lot browner than he remembered, a certain twinkle in them whenever i got excited talking to my housemates about something. he quickly found himself feeling jealous as malfoy walked through the halls with his arm around my shoulder.
of course, i was oblivious to all of this, which would’ve explained his soft tone. “I’m fine,” I sniffled, wiping my tears off with the sleeve of my sweater and avoiding direct eye contact. “Come with me,” he wasted no time, dragging me down the corridor before i could mutter a response. he led me to the prefect bathroom, opening the doors for me as i took in the beautiful mosaics.
“how did you even get the password?” i asked suspiciously to the troublesome boy.
he shrugged, “turned percy’s hair blue and wouldnt change it back until he’d tell me,”
i let out a snort, which i was quick to cover with a cough. only he could make me genuinely laugh after figuring out the man i had loved so deeply, didnt love me back enough to keep his dick in his pants. i turned away from his gaze, but he saw it. he took pride in being able to cause that gorgeous smile, but he was nice enough to not tease me about it tonight. he’d definitely bring it up another day, though.
“so, whats wrong?” he asked, arms crossed as he leaned against one of the porcelain sinks. i let out a sigh, debating on whether i should tell him at all. he was supposed to be our rival, afterall.
“draco cheated,” i stated. georges face softened, all traces of humor dissipating into thin air. “i’m sorry y/n,” he started, “that bloke doesn’t know what he’s got.”
for the first time that night, i looked up at him and saw the look he had in his eyes. the lingering gaze around my figure, the softness in his facial features, the way his eyes bored into mine with a sense of longing.
that was when a lightbulb when off in my head. ill admit that im not proud of what my next thought was, and it was definitely one of the most slytherin things i have ever done, but it was worth it. i wanted to hurt draco. i wanted him to feel as bad as i did, and i wanted revenge.
i strode over to his leaning frame, making it a point to swing my hips in the process. my lips formed a pout as i spoke to him in a low voice. “if he doesn’t know what hes got,” i trailed my fingers from his shoulders down to his chest, “who will?”
my lips got incredibly closer to the shell of his ear. “you?” i asked, cupping his buldge with my hand. he let out a barely audible whimper, eyes staring back at me like a deer in headlights.
i left a gentle kiss on his neck, “tell me if you want me to stop.” george shut his eyes for a split second, contemplating his morals. he weighed his options and outcomes. on one hand, he’d be able to piss off that spoiled brat malfoy, which would give him enough satisfaction to last him the rest of his life. on the other hand, he’d finally get to know what the taste of his crush’s lips were like. it was a win win situation. fuck it, he thought before closing the gap between us, lips moving in sync as the kiss became increasingly passionate. his hands roamed all over my body as i ran my fingers through his hair.
it was an amazing night, full of multiple orgasms that left me struggling to walk properly. george was certainly thicker than malfoy. the day after was when the feelings of sadness, regret, and confusion came sinking in. as soon as i woke up and left my dorm, there he was. in his perfect green uniform that perfectly matched his perfect porcelain skin. dracos head was held high, not a care in the world as it was obvious he completely forgot about our date night and had no idea i caught him and pansy red handed.
i walked past him, not even batting an eye in his direction as i made my way to the great hall. “y/n!” he called out, quickly catching up to me, “whats wrong?”
i rolled my eyes, “you forgot our date.” his eyes immediately widened as he realized his mistake, cheeks blushing like a tomato as he recalled where he was instead of the date. “darling, please forgive me. i’m so sorry, i just got caught up in my studi-“
i halted my steps, not wanting to listen to his bullshit excuse, “i forgive you.” he looked at me with bewilderment, “y-you forgive me?”
“of course,” i gave him the most convincingly sweet smile, “its not a big deal at all!”
his shoulders relaxed in relief at my words. oh, what a stupid boy. what a stupid, stupid boy. the only reason i was “forgiving him” was because i was going to hurt him back, a lot worse. he held my hand in his as we continued our stroll to the great hall, him lifting my hand up to plant a kiss on my knuckles.
right when he had done that, i locked eyes with a familiar red head from across the corridor. he smirked as he watched me, noticing the way my steps were slightly different than normal. it was the same shit eating smile he wore last night as he made me reach my 3rd orgasm, face buried between my legs and licking up my juices as if his life depended on it. i bit my lip as the flashback played in my head, instantly making me feel lightheaded again.
draco and i took our usual spots at the slytherin table, everything seemingly normal until the owls arrived. a letter had been dropped into my lap.
unravelling the parchment, there was a faint message scribbled across in black ink. “same time and place tonight?”
there was no name or any indication of identity, but i knew exactly who it was. luckily from where i was sitting at the table, i had a clear view of george. as i looked up from the letter, i instantly made eye contact with him, him giving me a sly wink before regurning to eat his mashed potatoes. he didnt need an answer, he knew id come back after the night we had togegher.
“whos that letter from?” a voice snapped me out of my haze. i jumped slightly before tucking the letter safely into my robe, “oh, it was just mum.”
“whatd she say?” draco questioned, slightly suspicious as he recognized me hiding the letter.
“she asked how you were, shes having dinner with your parents this weekend,” i said while gulping down my goblet of juice. draco seemed convinced at that answer, dropping his suspicions rather quickly, “oh thats right, mother was telling me about that.”
it was ironic, really. we were seen as the picture perfect duo. the slytherin prince with none other than his slytherin princess. we had the world in our hands, both coming from wealthy pureblood families. even our parents were over the moon at the news of our relationship blossoming, instantly talking about our plans for marriage in the future. but were we willing to throw that all away for these sick little games?
hi guys i know i usually write shawn fics but ive been into hp recently and wanted to give it a try! if u guys rlly like this one, id love to make a part 2 n finish the series (: pls lmk and give feedback! 🤍
#george weasley#george wealsey imagine#draco malfoy#draco malfoy imagine#george weasley x reader#draco malfoy x reader#harry potter imagine
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Christmas Admirers Teaser |T.H.
Pairing: Fratboy!Tom x Reader
Summary: Tom Holland and Y/N have never crossed each other’s paths in the 3 years of their college career. but can a silly letter change all that?
Loosely Inspired by Dash & Lily and every other cheesy Hallmark Christmas Rom-Com Movie out there.
A/N: This wont be a series but this story is going to be really long when it’s done but tbh not sure if Im really like how its coming...Ha...ha.. But I’ll still do a taglist for this when it’s completed so feel free to add yourself if you’d like.
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Wanna Play a Game?
All it took was one bright red letter and four words to intrigue the most beloved, foreign exchange student of New York University, Tom Holland. If his name sounds familiar to you, then you already know the answer to the question that just popped in your head. Yes, not only was Tom Holland a well renowned actor, he was also a student exploring the wonders of college along with his best friend Harrison. Some say he was only attending to prepare for a role, others say he did it to have his fun with sorority girls, and a very small percentage believed he was actually trying to get his degree in theater. Whatever the reason, college life suited him well, being the head of the Beta Gamma Sigma Fraternity, living the bachelors life with a new girl around his arm every week, but it was all the same...until he found that red letter sticking out of an abandoned shelf in the Potter’s Library.
He remembered it clearly, the day he found it. Tom had reluctantly arrived at the Library assuming his mates would be there to actually study for an exam they had this upcoming week. Lord knows if they didn’t pass this final with at least a C this semester, they would surely relive the nightmares with Professor Gonpu in the next. Yet to no surprise, none of them came and ditched last minute as the pool of messages started to flood his phone.
“Great.” Tom muttered to himself as he took a seat at the far right corner of the library. The area was empty, and as he slouched on the wooden chair and pushed it back, the boy hadn’t realize how close to the empty shelf he was. With a single thud, came a small red letter floating above and gently making its way down to his lap. The inviting words peaked his interest, and while he checked both front and back for a name, the letter should have been addressed to...there was none. He unfolded it and read it to himself.
Do you want a play a game?
You seem like the type of person that has nothing better to do, so let’s make it a little more interesting. I wont tell you who I am, but if I deem you worthy...I just might.
Still with me?
I’ll give you five clues to figure out this location. Everything you need is here in the Library. And...if you even think about using that phone, you might as well put this letter back where you found it. After all.. you’re in a library and it’s got all the information you need. Ready?
Tom looked at it puzzled by the words. “Do people actually do this shit?”, he thought to himself. He continued to read on, examining each clue and the 5 lines next to them.
1. You’ll find your first clue, deals with a tragic romance. He had all the money in the world but never ends up with the one he loves.
“Too easy.” Tom smiled to himself as he quickly looked for The Great Gatsby. He referenced the red letter seeing only 3 spaces for the first clue. “Jay” he whispered to himself, as he triumphantly wrote out the words.
2. Know what else is more shitty than dying and not having the love your life? Writing a depressing poem about the love your life dying. Or as Poe would imagine, a beautiful maiden by the sea.
He smirked at the line, knowing fully well the poem that the mysterious letter was referencing, and quickly headed to the poetry section. Tom scanned the row of books, until the black book with white lettering caught his eye. Flipping through the broken pages, he found exactly what he was looking for. “In this kingdom by the sea, but we loved with a love that was more than love, I and my Annabel Lee.” he muttered the lines, a smile slowly creeping up. Tom writes out the word “Lee” in the 3 lettered blank. “Tragic Romance, how typical.” he says to himself. Though his voice was laced with disinterest, it was Tom’s favorite poem, but he’d never tell anyone that.
It continued on this rhythm of deciphering clues and running around the Library like a chicken without a head to figure out what the letter wanted from Tom. He had been so focused that his plan to study for Gonpu’s final and meeting with the fraternity has completely flown out the window. As of now, Tom’s main priority was to find the answers to the letter’s puzzling challenge. Maybe, if he answered it, he would know who the mysterious writer was.
Then it happened. The last clue was solved, as Tom quickly wrote out the final word, examining his work and trying to make sense of what he found. There were no other instructions left on the letter which only made Tom more puzzled. It wasn’t a name. It wasn’t a thing. It was a place on campus. Jay Lee’s Coffee Lounge, the most serene coffee spot you’ll ever find in NYU. It offered all the essentials needed to focus and complete your work all with a side of great cold brew made in house. People say it’s NYU’s best kept secret, but really it’s because students will rarely go since it’s so out of the way.
He made it to the shop after thirty minutes, and stepped into the calm atmosphere. The smell of gingerbread lattes hit him once he opened the doors, and soft chatter between students filled the air. He looked around the area in hopes to find the person who wrote the letter. Perhaps they were waiting for him, but it was unlikely since Tom wasn’t even sure if the letter was written that same day. For all he knew, he could be wasting his time, and yet....it didnt feel like it. Almost as if he felt he was meant to be here.
“Mate, what are you doing here?!” Tom followed the robust British voice as he whipped his head to the counter. His best friend Harrison, dressed in a Jay Lee’s short sleeved shirt.
“Harrison? You...work here?” He asked voice filled with confusion. Not once did Harrison tell Tom about his side job. In fact it was almost offensive to think the blonde hair bloke would even it hide it from him.
“Yeah...I didn’t really tell anyone because well you know, it’s the last place people would expect a frat to be working in. Reputations and all...What about you? I didn’t think this place was your type of thing.” he asked.
“It’s not...” he paused for a moment, debating on whether to tell Harrison what he found. If it led Tom here, Harrison might know who wrote the letter. He hoped it was girl...God he really hoped it was. “Actually, I was at the library today waiting for you divs --”
“Oh yeah sorry mate.” Harrison looked at Tom apologetically.
“No, its fine really. But I found something interesting, and --”
“Tom, if it’s another blonde wannabe model, I --”
“Bloody hell, Harrison just listen to me. I..” Tom paused for a moment to quickly check his surroundings before pulling up the red paper. “I found this red letter. Made me go on bloody goose chase and led me here. You dont happen to know anything about this do you?”
Harrison took the letter and examined it thoroughly reading the lines word for word and the notes Tom made next to them. He was just as intrigued, but unfortunately shook his head, unsure of the answer to Tom’s question as well. “Sorry, Mate. I have no clue. Never seen anyone here writing out a red letter before.”
Tom held the letter, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Was this it? Did he really just waste a whole 3 hours in the library and 30 minutes worth of gas for nothing? “I just dont understand.” he muttered.
“Look if you really think the person that wrote this letter wanted you to be here, why don’t you just write a message in it and post it on the corkboard? Im working the entire week, so I’ll keep an eye on who grabs it and let you know.“
It didnt seem like a half bad plan, Tom nodded in agreement and grabbed a pen from his bag, writing his reply in the empty space, the mysterious writer was so kind enough to leave. He posted it on the corkboard, and turned back to his friend.
“Dont forget.” Tom pleaded.
“I wont mate.”
#tom holland#tom holland imagine#tom holland x reader#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker imagine
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9 “Do you believe in soul mates?” or 18 “ I don’t like the way they look at you” (cos I’m very indecisive) <33
Hell fuckin yeah we love protective John - and we also love tender and understanding Paul 🥺
18. “I don’t like the way they look at you.”
Paris, 1961.
It was getting late into the evening as they hung around in some bar they’d found, wandering the Paris streets. At least it was warmer here than they’re hotel room – though they loved the things they could get up to in the privacy of their room, a privacy they’d never in fact had before, it was still some cheap, grimy place, that when caught in the chill of an October air would not hasten to freeze up as swiftly as possible. Still, at least it gave them an excuse to get as close to one another as possible, holding each other so intimately through the night, and that was something they supposed.
It was liberating being in Paris; finally, they had found themselves a piece of freedom, to live and be their most natural selves - even if only for a week or so.
Perhaps they never would see this independence again, and so there was an unspoken agreement that they best make the most of it whilst they can.
They’d even allowed themselves – these two Liverpudlian boys – to get caught up in the undeniable romance of Paris; they found themselves kissing in alleyways, parks, even downtown bars if it seemed safe. And that was where the real liberty came from: it was safe, they were safe. It was legal, and nobody knew them. Alone-together in Paris of all places, they had stumbled upon gold.
Watching his lover from across the room however, something arose in him. John had been sat there alone with a drink at the bar, whilst Paul was off flirting with some fella he’d met as he left the toilets. The man had insisted on dragging Paul - his Paul, it should be noted - into some stupid, superficial conversation. And it was working, clearly. He’d always known he’d never be enough for Paul, because somewhere deep inside himself, he knew Paul simply had a higher intellect, and though John was by no means an “idiot”, he knew Paul was going to want more from a partner someday. I mean, they both understood that this affair was only fleeting, nothing serious; after all, they both had girls back home. But even still, this was Paris, their Paris, their getaway. And Paul had fucked off to go flirt with some other guy.
But rationality echoed through his mind, reminding him he had no right to be annoyed – Paul always was flirtatious, simply he loved to encapsulate others with his charm, it seldom ever meant anything. But even so, these were only echoes in his mind, and if John had had a few to drink, he never could help but get upset.
Meanwhile, over in Pauls corner, the bloke he was talking to questioned in a sultry French accent, “Is that your partner over there?”
Craning his head to see who the man was indicating towards Paul answered, “Um, yes. Actually, yeah - that’s just John. How’d you know?”
“He’s staring at me as though…” not being totally fluent in English made it difficult to find the right words, “as though he were about…to pounce at me.”
“You mean ye think he’s about ta beat you up.”
“Yes.”
“Well…he has done that before - but only to real arseholes. I wouldn’t let him beat you up; besides, he can tell were only jokin’ here.”
“If you insist.” The man responded acceptingly. “Where are you two from?”
“Well, we just came from Hamburg - but were from Liverpool originally!”
A few minutes later, Paul felt someones hand tugging at his wrist, though looking behind him he realised it was only John.
“I wanna go,” John said with some slight melancholy in his tone.
He dropped him a knowing smile, then saying, “Alright, love – we’ll leave in ten, yeah? I just wanna finish my drink.”
John shook his head, and with an added spite, insisted, “Take yer drink out with you. We’ve gotta go.”
Paul contemplated fighting him on this, but always the more democratic of the two, and not wanting to spoil their getaway, he finally said with a slight defeated sigh, “Alright then.” Turning to the Frenchman, he finalised their conversation with him, with a casual, “Nice talkin’ with ye.”
Gripping onto Pauls hand, John dragged him into the dim city streets. It was damp, it had been raining, and some dewy scent had been brought out from under the earth. There was some aggression in Johns movement as he dragged Paul along, and though Paul had no fear John would ever hurt him physically, he was concerned John may hurt himself emotionally; he always did find ways to push others away.
Stopping, Paul asked, “John, love, whats the matter?”
“Nuthin’s the matter - I just wanted to leave.”
He knew John would unfold at some point, and he’d rather it be here then in their hotel room where they’d wake the neighbours with a screaming row. “You know I’ve known you long enough to know that that just isn’t true.”
“Fucks sake Paul, nuthin’s the matter-“
Bluntly, Paul interjected with, “John, yer gonna get it out at some point, so why not save us some time and tell me now.”
Defeated and with all defences down, John admitted, “I don’t like the way they look at you.”
“Johnny…” Paul wasn’t surprised, this wasn’t the first time John had gotten protective in this way. At least this time if didnt result in him beating anyone up.
“All them guys - you didn’t see ‘em, but they were right fuckin’ perverts.”
Understanding that a drunken and jealous John was simply incapable of thinking clearly, Paul asked gently, “How’d you think they looked at me?”
“I dunno…just…just like they could’ve taken you. From me.”
Paul laughed softly, though not mockingly, “Why would I ever leave you for some random French bloke?”
“I dunno, just…im an arsehole – im just…” he never could articulate his own self-loathing to the extent he wished he could.
“Johnny,” Paul started, taking his lovers hands into his own and pulling him closer, he half-whispered, “‘m yours for the week.” Bringing the others knuckles close, he kissed them, then asserted, “I don’t need- I don’t want another guy.”
“Yeah?”
Instead of answering this, Paul chose to grasp the others neck, tenderly pulling him in for a kiss. It was so un-like them, so romantic, so grotesque; but they were a long way from home, and nobody knew them – so why not be somebody else, or even better, why not be your most natural self? “Besides, ‘m not a bird y’know; don’t need you protecting my honour and what not.”
“Yeah, well…I like protecting yer honour.”
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let's stop and talk about trans draco real fast, shall we?:
♡ would def come out to his parents during dinner a year before he went into hogwarts "so, hypothetically, what if i decided being a girl sucks and makes me sad and i wanna be a boy?"
♡ narcissa would just smile and pat him on the back, asking what he would like to be called
♡ lucius, to everyone's surprise, was not transphobic, but instead was now determined to have the most handsome son to prove that he didnt need a flat chest and a penis to be better than everyone else
♡ draco went into hogwarts horrified that teachers would deadname him
♡ clearly his parents had spoken to them, though, because they all gladly called him draco
♡ his relatives, the handful that were transphobic, sent him letters addressed to his deadname occasionally and draco simply didnt reply. when his father asked why he wasnt replying, draco said that there wasnt anyone of that name that he knew of (lucius knew he taught his son on how to be petty well)
♡ honestly draco was pretty lowkey about being trans
♡ he didnt ever change in front of people, he always covered his trips to madam pomfrey for testosterone with a library trip, and excused his more feminine build as "since when does body shape have gender?"
♡ which worked stupidly well
♡ until when he went to get his testosterone from madam pomfrey, theo was sitting in there getting treated for a bloody nose (he got into a fight, the idiot)
♡ and theo is the biggest blabber mouth, dont even argue, so he told both blaise and pansy
♡ and they all proceeded to ask (in perfect sync, which freaked draco out) "why do you need testosterone, malfoy?"
♡"imtransformerlinssakepleasedonteverdoanythinginsyncagain" "what?" "...im trans??"
♡ pansy literally just rolled her eyes ("goyle owes me 5 galleons, i knew something was up"), but theo and blaise looked ready to piss themselves
♡ why? because they had shared a dorm with him for multiple years, hOW DID THEY NOT KNOW OH MY-
♡ now, eventually draco fessed up to some other acquaintances, but it wasnt public news
♡ especially because slytherins protect each other at all costs. dracos voice cracked in class once and everyone looked at him, so the rest of the slytherins started answer questions and purposefully cracking their voices. when asked if they were making fun of draco, they all shook their heads and went "guess that's good ol' puberty. i am a growing teen, you know!"
♡ pansy was probably the most protective
♡ she has and will fight someone for draco
♡ "pans, i can fight my own battles" "shush, i throw a meaner jelly legs jinx than anyone in our year"
♡ and you may ask yourself: cygnus, where the heck is the drarry?" SO GLAD YOU ASKED
♡ harry james potter was madly in love with the blonde slytherin
♡ maybe it was the way he blushed after a voice crack or maybe it was his white blonde hair that he played with when he got nervous or maybe it was how he would pull his uniform shirt away from his chest, like it would stick if he didnt
♡ but harry had fallen hard
♡ so hard even ron pointed it out ("we know you're in love with the bloke, but can you stop staring at his ass and focus on the charms essay?")
♡ literally everyone is gryffindor knew
♡ that's alright, everyone in slytherin was well aware of dracos huge crush on harry, to the point where they quoted him ("perfect little potter, with his evergreen eyes that shine in the sun, and his lean body that i could lay on top of and listen to his heartbeat-" "shut up, zabini")
♡ so, for the first time, harry and dracos friends teamed up and operation drarry was in full swing
♡ hermione and pansy were in charge of setting the whole plan up
♡ ron and blaise were in charge of setting them up at the right place at the right time
♡ neville and theo were in charge of distracting the two for the day
♡ crabbe, goyle, luna, and ginny all got put in charge of setting up the place, and then hide with cameras
♡ the plan was simple, get both harry and draco to the astronomy tower at the same time by having neville and theo give them notes from the other (dracos note to harry written by blaise and harrys to draco by ron). ginny and luna would then set up candles and blankets and simple charms that let flowers and vines grow along the walls while crabbe and goyle set up charms to only let select people enter the astronomy tower without thinking they forgot something and leaving. and course, this genius was planned by pansy and hermione.
♡ BELIEVE IT OR NOT, IT WORKED UNBELIEVABLY WELL
♡ GINNY CAUGHT A PHOTO OF THEM SNOGGING
♡ IT WAS GREAT
♡ well, until draco started wheezing cuz the dingus had stayed in his binder for way too long
♡ harry smiled softly at the embarrassed boy before pulling off his quidditch sweater and handing it to draco ("go ahead and take your binder off-" "how did you-" "shush, it was in the note, blaise didnt conceal it was him very well and threatened me not to judge you just because you're trans. i could care less, you're still you and still valid. now take off your binder, the sweater should be lose enough on you to cover anything")
♡ harry walked draco back to his dorm that night and told him to keep the sweater "it looks cuter on you"
♡ yes, draco told his father about it
♡ "dear draco,
YOU CHOSE THE POTTER BOY OF ALL PEOPLE-"
this one was requested by @punkmccartney here on tumblr and i couldnt resist (:
I HOPE YOU ENJOYED !!
#harry potter#harry x draco#yer a wizard harry#hogwarts#gay#trans guy#trans#drarry#draco malfoy#slytherin#gryffindor
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What do you think the female lis’ families are like? I feel like only the guys talk about their families, with the exception being Talia talking about her parents and brother I don’t think any of the other girls do at all
hi anon thanks for the ask, hope my headcanons make sense
Talia:
pretty nuclear family, an older brother, her mum and her dad
her older brother’s maybe 4 years older or so, not enough that they never saw each other but enough that they didn’t really meet in school or anything
and that’s definitely why she meshes so well with the Jake even though they have like 6 years between them, shes used to the gap and hes really similar to her brother anyway, both goofy but sweet when they need to be
she definitely really close with her mother, i know its mentioned that they look just like each other, but i think that dialogues universal for the S1 LIs
and her mum owns a salon, right?
thats definitely why she takes such good care of her hair, her mother always did when she was little and encouraged it, complimenting her on it and styling it whenever she wanted
and she worked at the salon when she was a teenager and it was summer, working the front desk or cleaning up, sorting products, that sort of thing
its definitely a different story with her dad, hes pretty traditional and didnt take her coming out very well
it ruined things between them for a while and made it hard for her to visit, she only saw her brother at his place and her mother at the salon, but after LI, if shes with MC, he eases up a bit when he sees how happy they are
shes so open about her sexuality, especially on the show, because she doesn’t want any other kids to feel alone, she knows how much it sucked when she was a teenager
if she ends with MC, her mothers there at the finale and just showers MC in compliments and comments about wedding bells to mess with Talia
and her brother loves teaming up with MC and Jake to tease her
the first time he met Jake, Talia thought they’d get married on the spot cuz they just meshed so well
her dads wary at first, but once its clear that MCs not going anywhere, maybe he catches them talking about him or something and just being vulnerable with each other, which is something Talia never was with him, he starts welcoming MC more, buys her flowers or something the next time they visit and annoys Talia because he didnt get any for her
Allegra:
ive been headcanoning for a while that she has a really big family and an awful relationship with them
her parents got divorced when she was little, maybe 3 or 4, they both remarried, her mom got divorced and remarried again, so she has a ton of half and step siblings, but no full
because there were so many kids in whatever household she was staying in at the time she kinda got lost in the crowd, which is why shes so desperate for attention on the show, she never got any when she was younger
and no matter what happens on the show, her parents dont call her or come to the finale, the only person that says anything is the one step sibling shes close with
they're about the same age, maybe 8 months to a year apart, and were glued to each others side when they were tweens
but they live really far apart and her step sister couldn’t make it to the finale, so they barely see each other which makes them drift apart a bit
if MC runs away with her after the reunion, she gushes to her step sister and they get closer again, to the point that her sister moves in with her for a job a year or two later, maybe right before quarantine if MC doesn’t so they don’t go insane
MC and her sister get on well and always call her Leggy just to watch her get mad, and they’re the only two people that can get her to calm down when shes pissed, her anger being another side effect of being ignored as a kid
the only way she got attention was if she threw a fit, and eventually that frustration just stuck around
but she gets better when she gets closer with her sister again and after the backlash from the show dies down, which it does pretty quickly when her and MC announce their relationship since she was the fan favourite
she never really introduces MC to her family, it just doesn’t make sense to her, but MC drags her along to a few weddings and holiday parties until Allegra’s dad introduces himself to her like its the first time four events in a row
she gives up after that, and Allegra’s perfectly fine with it, she’d rather keep their relationship between them anyway
Marisol
like Talia, she has the same family dynamic - an older brother and her parents
but her brothers only a year older and their relationship is a lot tenser
her dad always encouraged competition between them - if one got a good mark on an exam, the other was expected to match or do even better, if her brother got an award, Marisol was expected to get it a year later, that sort of thing
she doesn’t really talk with her brother outside of formal or family events, there’s still a lot of tension from their teenage years between them, but Marisol’s too proud to admit it, and her brother is too
and she’d never admit it, but the whole reason she’s in law school is because her father wanted her to, and she was just lucky that she enjoyed it
and again, like Talia, her dad didnt take her attempt at coming out well, he just flat out denied it, told her she’d meet a nice guy and settle down, that is what just a phase, all that shit
neither her mother or brother stuck up for her, which pissed her off a bit and just made things worse
her mother was never that involved in her life, never seemed that interested unless she was getting perfect marks and competing in dance competitions
and because she was so focused on her studies and work, she never had many friends and has honestly always seen them as a waste of time
its why she has no problem shitting on Lottie’s girl code, to her it just never made sense
so most of her friends end up being from the show and MCs friends if they’re together, and shes not big on family events, her immediate family isn’t either
but she is really close to her abuela on her mum’s side and an older cousin on her dad’s who’s gay and shes always related to
she got really excited to introduce MC to them, and her abuela made a whole array of food for Marisol, MC, and her abuelo and her abuela cooed over MC for ages
her cousin bought them drinks and made them tell him stories from the Villa, and afterwards pulled Marisol aside and told her he was proud and approved of MC and it made her really mushy and she hated it, MC wouldn’t let go that she cried in the cab for ages
her brother and her mother were never particularly rude to MC, but her father definitely was cold and distant and disrespectful
she got pretty pissed after that, telling MC off for ever encouraging to go and shouting about why that kind of thing was the exact reason she kept her distance
her and MC definitely has some issues after that for a while, and she shut her dad out until he gave a halfhearted apology, but her cousin and abuelos helped her feel better about her family situation
Elisa:
her parents aren’t together anymore and her mum had custody of her most of her life, even though she struggled to raise her and her sister
she didnt know her dad that well until she was a in her late teens, but regardless of all the lost time, they still have a good relationship
makeup and art was an escape when she was younger, and even when her mother was exhausted after working multiple shifts, she always encouraged her and helped her improve or just told her she loved it
her mum was her biggest supporter when she started the whole influencer thing, and her favourite thing to spend her money on is things for her family, like flowers for when she visits her mum or a new phone for her younger sister
they’re seven years apart, so she never had that close of a relationship with her when she was young, because what 13 year old wants to hang out with their annoying 6 year old sister
but once she got a bit older she started taking her to the movies and shopping to bond and encouraging her own art
her sister loves music, and even if she cant relate to it directly, she always does her best to support her
she even got kassam to make her sister a mixtape after the show and give some tips on mixing, and if MCs a musician she always asks her to give her sister lessons or something
introducing MC to her whole family all at once was one of her favourite things to do, she took them all to dinner and bought MC a dress and everything
her parents loved MC and laughed at all her jokes, and MC nearly joked on her salad at a story her dad was telling
and even though her sister was pretty quiet, she told Elisa how much she liked her afterwards
they all start a family game night that is Elisa’s favourite thing to post about all week, and even though her parents haven’t been together since she was 7 or so, they still get on well and now that her dad’s more comfortable being there even though he’s not with her mum, hes more involved in her sisters life
her job and her Elisabees are crazy important to her, but she’d drop all of it for her family, even if she doesn’t seem super sappy
Lottie
shes an only child for sure, but with a few cousins shes decently close with
her relationship with her parents isn’t perfect by any means, but she still gets on with them
they encouraged her art even if they made some odd comments about her being alt that rubbed her the wrong way, but they mean well
there was a couple years where Lottie thought they’d get divorced, because they were arguing about finances cuz her mum went back to school and they lost her income, but when she started working as a nurse they were able to get back on track
her dad’s a bloke and loves sports and cars and all that, but hes also big in horror movies and is the one that introduced her to it
her mum hated all the gore, but her dad would let her watch it with him when she was out of the house
she always goes home for Christmas no matter where shes living, but has her own traditions for New Years and Easter
her aunt and uncle always host a big dinner and her dad drives two hours to get there, and she always spends the drive listening to new music and planning new makeup looks to test out
she has a ton of cousins because each of her parents has 4 siblings, but their ages are all so spread out that shes only close with a few of them and swaps stories from the year with three of them
they all lost their shit over MC when she brought her to their Christmas Eve dinner, hugging her way too much in Lottie’s opinion and telling her as many embarrassing stories as they could think of
her mum spent the car ride there trying to connect with MC, and they actually got on pretty well, but her dad seemed to click with MC even more for whatever reason, giving her a beer when they got back to Lottie’s parent’s house and turning on Lottie’s favourite slasher film for background noise while they talked
her dad made MC swear that she’d come back next year, that they weren’t allowed to trade between MC’s family for Christmas and Lottie’s, and MC agreed with a laugh as Lottie’s head was in her lap, watching the movie
Hannah:
she has a huge traditional family
three older brothers, two older sisters, and a younger brother
she grew up in the country and her mother had horses that she always loved to spend time with cuz i love her but she was 100% a horse girl
her parents never had any problems, were always happy and sappy and that was the only type of relationship she saw growing up, so before Love Island she didn’t really understand that relationships could be bad and how to deal with that
two of her older brothers and both of her sisters are married, her brothers and one sister have kids, again super traditional and happy, which only further reinforced these fairy tale ideals she has
she loves her nieces and nephews, but never felt like an aunt, more of an older cousin for whatever reason
her oldest sibling is her brother, they’re 13 years apart and he has four kids already, hes been married since 21
her oldest sister got married the oldest at 25, and shes always been worried she won’t match up to them, which was a huge motivator to go on Love Island
shes closest with her middle sister, who’s 23 with no kids, but she still has a nice house in the suburbs with a big yard, still crazy nuclear
her whole life has been spent around this type of tradition, and it was really hard for her to break out of it after Love Island
Hannah’s youngest brother is still only 15, and hes a bit of a black sheep - hes alt and dyes his hair and draws tattoos on his arms during school, and she was never close with him before Love Island, but after she comes out as some kind of queer, he comes out as gay and nonbinary(he/they) and they get really close for once
he gets in a fight with their parents when they’re 17, and he runs to Hannah’s place, driving multiple hours to get there and moves in with her after a few weeks
they stay with her until they graduate uni with a degree in education, getting a job at a school and telling all their students that his sister was on Love Island and her girlfriend’s really cool
MC and him are her biggest encouragement to break from the mold her family set, both so her relationship can thrive and to be a good role model for her younger sibling
she struggles with fitting in with her stereotypical family and siblings that all have multiple kids and nice houses, but she still loves her little mishmash of MC, her sibling, and the constant friends that cycle through their flat - Lottie, Priya, Chelsea, Gary sometimes even, Ibrahim once or twice as hes on a golf tour
Lottie loves her sibling and sometimes does makeup for them, and Chelsea always shows up unexpected to hang out with MC and redecorate their house but Hannah hates it because she likes all the memories her clutter has, even if MC calls her a hoarder sometimes
she had so many hand me downs growing up that now she has her own place, she loves filling it with things that are for her and MC and only them and has a really hard time letting go of things, always reasoning that they might give her inspiration to write or something
AJ:
shes an only child too, which made her dad treat her as much like as son as he could
her parents struggled to conceive, so once they used IVF to have her they didnt want to go through it again
her dad was super excited when she was interested in sports and is her biggest fan, always showing up to every single game and driving her to practices before she moved out, though she still doesn’t have a car cuz she hates driving, its too much pressure
her dad would watch games with her and coach her during off seasons, her uncles a football coach and used to get them tickets when he could, sometimes letting her train with his team when she was a teenager
her mum didnt like how hard she pushed herself, but was still supportive of how much she loved it
her mums a mathematician and always helped her with her homework because she awful at maths, while her dad would try and teach her history or edit papers until her mum had to step in and correct him
when she came out as bi and later gay, they didnt even bat an eye, her mum making her pride color cupcakes and her dad maybe even being excited that he could point out cheerleaders when they were watching games
her mum didn’t quite understand when she wanted to go on Love Island, but her dad thought it’d be a laugh and further enforced her “just have fun” attitude
but her parents are both crazy happy when she wins with MC, making a banner when AJ first brings her home
she thought her dad would crush MC when he started hugging her, and her mum made an entire cake, biscuits, cinnamon rolls, and more sweets that she made them take home
her parents always make her and MC come over for dinner on Sundays and she started noticing the extra effort they always went to - her dad actually dressing nice, the house was super clean, the dog always had recently been given a bath
even though she knew her parents supported her, seeing all that really calmed her nerves about bringing home a girl, and made her coming out as a gay a lot easier
MC and her alternate between their family’s for holidays, and her parents each invite their brother and their families every time, and after their third holiday at her parents, they bought her and MC a dog
her and MC definitely have a pretty traditional family life, married after a few years with a nice house, going as far as to adopt a kid or two when AJ stops playing professionally, her parents always closely involved with their grandkids
Disclaimer - I don’t know if Yasmin or Lily make mentions of their family, so I’m just going with what I think
Yasmin:
her mother passed when she was 12, and her and her younger sister were raised by her dad
he wasn’t always the best dad, sometimes he struggled to make time for them with work, or sometimes he struggled to connect with them, but it was never anything too bad
she was always super close to her sister and parented her as she was growing up since they have a 9 year difference between them
her sisters her biggest fan and always makes her send demos and work in progresses so she can listen to them on repeat, and whenever Yasmin writes a song specifically for her she loses her mind
all her friends love Yasmin’s solo music and Enchanted Husband and she brags nonstop
Yasmin figured out she liked girls pretty young, around 10 or so, but only came out when she was 17. she didnt want her sister to ever feel alone or isolated if she ended up being queer too, so she tried to always be open about who she was
her dad sat her down when she bought a pride flag and had her explain everything to him step by step, and he gave her some space for a few days, but then he offered to take her to pride when it came around
he doesn’t talk about it with her much, and she knows he doesn’t fully understand, but he offers his support whenever he thinks she needs it
her sister absolutely fangirled over MC the first time she met her, hugging her and not letting go until Yasmin nearly pulled her off MC
her dad hugged her too but was far more reserved, hes quieter like her, and tends to keep his distance, whereas her sister has no problem shrieking and making a scene in a train station
later that night her dad pulls her aside and tells her he likes MC and thinks shes a good fit, and her sister has no problem saying how cool MC is, even when shes in the room
her sister and her dad always ask for tickets when shes touring nearby, and MC always offers to take them to dinner before the show, and the three of them get on better than Yasmin expected
she thought her dad might be too distant or her sister too excitable, but even if she’d never say anything, seeing them all get on makes things easier
when her sister gets older and moves out, their dad moves closer to Yasmin, even though he never says exactly why, and there’s a few years where her sister and her are both to busy to meet up, but MC makes them hang out together and then get dinner with their dad when their all in town
MC tends to be her reminder to slow down, and after that dinner she cancels the rest of her tour and takes a two year break in which her sister starts spending weekends at Yas and MCs, their dad visiting often too
Lily:
she has three full brothers and shes the only girl, her parents are divorced and her dad remarried while her mother stayed single
she has a step sister from her dad’s remarriage, but they dont have much in common and didnt grow up together, her parents only split when she was 15
two of her brothers are older than her and her oldest is the one shes closest with, with a gap of 7 years between them
hes an engineer and into cars too, he helped her fix up her first car and helped her pay for college
her youngest brother is only a year below her, but they were never close, he was never that interested in playing in the mud when they were kids
hes an art and english double major and still lives with their dad, hes closer with their step sister than Lily, but there’s no bad blood or anything
her other brother is a middle ground, three years older than her
he’s an accountant and used to drive her around before she could herself, they bonded over a few small mutual interests like a tv show they would binge together and just staring a space together since they shared a room, her younger brother and step sister across the hall
her dad wasn’t crazy active in her life and she doesn’t know her step mother, but her mum worked from home when she was younger and had custody on weekends
she babied her younger brother and always scolded Lily for being a tomboy and it bothered her a lot when she was little, until her older brother started encouraging it
her brothers all love MC, even her youngest, and they all try and bond with her in a different way
sometimes Lily goes home just to find a note that one of her brothers took MC to a movie or dinner or somewhere else, and she wants to be annoyed with them for it, but she likes the validation
she never officially came out, so none of them saying anything or criticizing her is really comforting, knowing that something so trivial doesn’t matter
her mum was a little shocked by the show and MC, but she tries to be polite and eventually comes around, inviting MC to go shopping to bond
her dad has no problem, her step mother being a little confused but not concerned, and her step sister doesn’t care, just nods at MC the first time she meets her
Lily tends to keep her distance from her family, especially when her older brothers find partners and start families, but is fine going to events, sometimes its nice to see her brothers and catch up
#can it kc#headcanons#litg talia#litg allegra#litg marisol#litg elisa#litg lottie#litg hannah#litg aj#litg yasmin#litg lily#asks
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Robert Week 2020 Day 3: Family A family dinner goes awry when revelations about the Sugden brothers' past come to light.
FYI, this is set in a slightly AU version of husbands era where Andy returned at some point and is living in Emmerdale again (I brought Adam back too, because why not).
Also, this fic refers to an old storyline that I must have watched but have no real memory of, considering how long ago it aired. So I've had to rely on gifsets and the Emmerdale Wiki, which you can see here:
https://emmerdale.fandom.com/wiki/Stephen_Butler https://isabellaofparma.tumblr.com/post/176241877331 https://robsugdens.tumblr.com/post/176241303211/i-didnt-have-it-easy
On a warm Saturday evening in August, the Sugdens and their other halves all gather round Diane’s table for their tea. Family time still isn’t a particularly common occurrence for them, but Diane and Victoria insist on it every now and then, and they mostly manage to get through the odd meal without any drama these days.
So as Aaron sits in his usual spot next to Robert and Seb, he doesn’t expect much more from the next couple of hours than some small talk with his in-laws over homemade shepherd’s pie and apple crumble.
Andy and Victoria are both in a nostalgic mood, it seems, tossing childhood memories back and forth as they eat. Nothing too heavy, thankfully, just funny – mostly farming-related – anecdotes from their youth.
At least, Andy, Vic, Diane and Doug seem to find them funny. Adam smiles and laughs easily along with them, but Aaron’s mostly left nonplussed. Honestly, the only thing getting him through it is the eye roll and small kill-me-now grin Robert shoots him whenever they catch each other’s eye. Aaron’s husband is clearly just as bored by the farm talk as he is, only chiming in when someone addresses him directly.
How many stories can you possibly tell about runaway cows, anyway?
As the first hour drags by and some of them start helping themselves to seconds, talk turns to Butlers farm and how the Sugdens had come to take it over back in the day.
“Who were the actual Butlers, anyway?” Adam asks, shovelling a forkful of mashed potato in his mouth. “Don’t think my mum ever said when we moved in there.”
“Just a bloke who was getting too old to keep up with things,” Andy replies with a shrug. “Will or Wilf, I think. And he had a son, too, about our age, right Rob?”
Robert nods as he wipes Seb’s mouth (he’s going through an incredibly messy phase of insisting on feeding himself) but doesn’t add anything.
“Drawing a blank on his name, though – ”
“Steve,” Robert interrupts quietly, turning back to his plate.
“Oh yeah, that’s it,” Andy snaps his fingers as the memory comes back to him. “Steve… dunno what happened to him. We were mates for a bit but he moved away in the end. We’d fallen out, can’t remember why but – ”
Robert’s scoff cuts Andy off. Everyone pauses and turns to him as he finally lifts his head to stare at a confused-looking Andy.
“What?”
“Are you kidding me?” Robert asks incredulously.
Victoria tenses and glances warily between the two of them. “What’s the matter, Robert?”
“Yeah, what’s your problem?” Andy says with a frown.
“You seriously don’t remember what happened with Steve?”
“No… ” Andy’s bewilderment is quickly turning to annoyance. “Who cares, it was like, a million years ago. Do you remember everyone you fell out with when we were kids? Saying that, it’d be a pretty long list for you, wouldn’t it?”
“Boys, come on now,” Doug rumbles quietly. “Let’s not spoil the evening.”
Robert stays silent, but Aaron can see he’s biting the inside of his jaw. A telltale sign that he’s upset but trying to keep it together. He rests a hand on Robert's tense thigh under the table, ready to jump in to his defence if needed.
“Well, share with the class,” Andy drawls, ignoring Doug’s words with the beginnings of a smirk. Aaron has no idea what this is about, but he wants to punch it off his face. “What was it, then?”
Robert hesitates, eyes darting to Seb – who’s thankfully still oblivious to the tension – before shaking his head and stabbing at his food with his fork.
“What, nothin’ to say?”
“No.”
“Maybe we should just change the – ” Diane begins, but Andy speaks over her.
“No, come on, he’s started now. Spit it out, Rob, whatever it is that's got your back up.”
“I said no.”
No one else at the table would have caught it, but Aaron hears the wobble in Robert’s voice. He tightens the hand on his husband's thigh, trying to keep him calm, remind him that he's not alone at the table.
“What d’you bring it up for, then?” Andy isn’t taking no for an answer, apparently, and he’s starting to get on Aaron’s last nerve. “God, you always do this, always have to turn everything into some big drama, don't you? Come on, what was it that was so bad that – ”
“You found out Steve was gay,” Robert cuts Andy off, voice low but unmistakably clear.
Silence rings over the table as everyone freezes on the spot. Adam’s fork hovers in the air for a moment, before he sets it back on the plate with a clatter.
“Or, you heard rumours that he was gay, from that Ali kid. I dunno if he actually was, but that was good enough for you. You heard the rumours, you believed them – started passing them on to other people too, if I remember right – and after that, you wanted nothing to do with him.”
Aaron’s heart is thumping loudly in his chest, a familiar anger and defensiveness – for Robert, for himself, for this Steve kid – surging through him like wildfire. He watches Andy open his mouth uncertainly before closing it again, the irritation vanished from his face and replaced with shock. He looks like a deer caught in headlights.
“I asked you what the big deal was, why you cared so much if Steve was gay,” Robert continues with an air of apparent nonchalance, though Aaron knows better than to fall for the act, he knows Robert's fuming. Hurting.
“You said he shouldn’t have kept it hidden from everyone, you had a right to know what sort of person you’d been hanging out with. You were also very keen to make sure everyone else knew that just because you’d spent time with him, that didn’t make you ‘queer’, as you put it.”
Diane and Doug both look on uncomfortably, while Victoria brings a hand to her mouth in shock.
“Andy, you didn’t… ” she whispers with wide eyes. Adam lays a hand on her shoulder, looking almost as taken aback by the situation as her.
“I… ” Andy flounders helplessly, head whipping to his sister then back to Robert.
“Steve ended up moving away from the village in the end,” Robert finishes, pushing his plate away and tossing his napkin on to the table. “I guess all the shit he got over it – the name-calling and bullying – became too much for him to cope with, so he got the hell out of there. And no one ever mentioned him again.”
“Robert… ”
“Any of this ringing any bells for you, Andy?”
Andy gulps loudly before giving the slightest of nods.
“I – I forgot.”
“That’s nice for you,” Robert lets out a hollow laugh, before abruptly pushing his chair back with a loud scrape. “Sorry Diane, dinner’s been great but I don’t really fancy pudding. Lost my appetite.”
He scoops Seb out of his high chair and strides out of the room with a backward glance. Aaron rises quickly, muttering his thanks to Diane for the meal and following him, only stopping to throw a hard glare back in Andy’s direction. When Andy’s eyes meet his, he cringes and shrinks back in his seat.
Good.
*
“S’been a while since I’ve sat in on some proper Sugden drama,” Aaron say lightly, passing Robert a brew and Seb his sippy cup of juice.
Robert lets out a small huff but doesn’t speak, silently watching Seb playing with his toy cars on the rug. He hasn’t said much of anything since they left Diane’s and Aaron hasn’t pushed him. Not until now, anyway.
Careful not to spill their teas, he sinks onto the sofa and nudges Robert gently, raising a questioning eyebrow at him. Robert glances at him before sighing heavily.
“Probably gonna get an earful off Diane later,” he eventually mutters. “Causin’ a scene, spoiling a family meal again.”
“Somehow I don’t think she’ll blame you for this one. And if she does, she’ll have me to deal with.”
That gets him a tiny smile, at least.
“Gonna tell her off, are you?”
“I ain’t scared of her.”
Robert chuckles and leans into him, taking a slow sip of his tea. They sit in companionable silence for a few moments, before Robert begins to speak.
“I know Andy doesn’t have a problem with me, with you and me. I know he doesn’t think like that anymore, I wouldn’t speak to him if he did,” he says quietly. “We were just kids, and kids can be idiots, I get it. It’s just – it’s the fact that he didn’t even remember. To him it was clearly just a stupid bit of teenage drama, it didn’t mean anything. He probably never even gave it a second thought after Steve was gone. Whereas I… ”
Robert trails off, blinking rapidly and looking frustrated. Aaron reaches over to lace their fingers together, squeezing gently. As out and proud as his husband is now, it's still difficult for him to talk about his sexuality sometimes, about all the time he spent in hiding it.
“That day,” Robert eventually continues. “When Andy said all that stuff about not wanting to hang out with Steve anymore, I thought I was gonna be sick there and then. The way he acted like it was the most disgusting thing he’d ever heard… I don’t think I got a wink of sleep that night. I just lay there in bed, picturing Andy’s face if he ever found out about – about me. If he knew what Dad knew.”
He sets his mug down and pinches the bridge of his nose.
“It wasn’t like I’d been about to come out or anything, this was a couple of years after Dad… you know.”
Aaron nods wordlessly, feeling the hatred he’d carried for Jack Sugden ever since he learnt about that day bubble rapidly to the surface.
“I’d already buried the fact that I liked boys, I'd decided I was just gonna pretend it wasn’t there. But – but hearing Andy say all that stuff about Steve, the way he reacted to even the possibility that his mate was… It was like like the final nail in the coffin, y’know?” Robert’s bottom lip wobbles as he shakes his head, sounding so resigned.
“I knew then, that I could never tell him. Or my friends, or anyone in this stupid village. Any hope I’d had, deep down, that being myself might be... I don’t know, not accepted but… tolerated, maybe? It pretty much died that day.”
Sometimes, Aaron is reminded of just how drastically things in Emmerdale have changed in recent times. His adolescence and Robert’s were only a few years apart; on paper the time seems like nothing. But the reality is that in terms of mindset and attitude, things couldn’t have been more different for the two of them.
He remembers the fear, the absolute terror of others finding out the truth about him all too well. But once he was out, once the dust settled and everyone knew… apart from the odd snide comment from some tosser he didn’t even know, people were fine with it. His family, Victoria, Adam, Ryan, Holly… none of them cared, no one saw him any differently. If anything, he became closer to nearly every person around him.
The fact that Robert not only believed that the opposite would happen to him, but basically had actual confirmation of it played out right before his eyes, breaks Aaron's heart.
He puts down his own mug so he can pull Robert into him and tuck him under his chin, Robert’s arms circling his waist as he buries his face into Aaron's chest.
“I love you,” he murmurs into his husband’s hair, hands stroking softly. “You deserved better.”
Robert clutches him tighter.
*
Later that night, Adam texts him while Robert’s in the shower.
so that was fun
Aaron readjusts a sleepy Seb in his lap so he can reply.
What happened after we left? Andy say anything?
not much. diane and vic gave him an earful, he left pretty sharpish. looked proper ashamed of himself too. vic’s been going spare ever since, i’ve had to stop her from going to yours 3 times. u both ok?
We’re fine. Tell Vic that Rob’s alright, I’ve got him
will do. night mate
*
“Well, you’ve got balls, I’ll give you that.” Is the only thing Aaron says when he opens the front door to Andy the next morning, folding his arms across his chest.
Andy shuffles awkwardly on the welcome mat, a hand coming up to scratch his bushy beard.
“Is Robert here?”
“Yes.”
He doesn’t step aside to let Andy in. When Andy realises that Aaron isn’t budging, he sighs heavily, shoulders slumped.
“Look Aaron, I uh… ” He clears his throat. “I’m sorry."
“Not me you need to apologise to.”
“No, I know, but I just wanted to say that I was a right idiot back then, really stupid. Ignorant. And I’m – I’m not proud of it, but I don’t want you thinking I’m still like that because – ”
“I don’t think you’re like that,” Aaron cuts him off.
“…Yeah?”
“You wouldn’t still be standing here if I did.”
Andy pauses and blinks, face twisting nervously.
“Right, well uh… good, I’m glad. So… can I…?” He gestures to the inside of the house.
“Wait here.”
He closes the door in Andy’s face (not exactly necessary, but he takes some petty pleasure in it) and walks through the living room to the back door, stepping out into bright sunshine and the sound of splashing and laughter.
Seb’s playing in his paddling pool in the garden, happy as a clam, while Robert sprawls on the grass beside it, occasionally passing him one of the bath toys they’d brought down to the garden. The front of his t-shirt is absolutely drenched.
“Alright?” He asks as Aaron approaches.
“Andy’s here. Asking for you.”
Robert stiffens, grin dropping off his face.
“Want me to send him packing?”
There’s a long pause, before Robert sighs and shakes his head. “No… suppose he can come through.”
Aaron returns to the front door and beckons Andy, leading him to the back garden.
“Andy!” Seb cries when he spots them. “Pool!”
“Wow, look at this!” Andy calls as he steps closer. For all his and Robert's issues, he adores Seb. “You havin’ fun, mate?”
Seb nods vigorously, his damp sunhat bouncing on his head as he smacks his hands into the water. Robert tilts his head up to stare at Andy.
“Alright?” Andy tries for a hopeful smile, which Robert doesn’t return, instead refocusing his gaze on Seb.
“Can we have a quick chat?”
Robert passes Seb a rubber duck.
“Rob, come on,” Andy pleads, looking down at him imploringly.
Robert rolls his eyes, before pushing himself up and wiping his palms on his shorts.
“Can you – ?” He asks Aaron, gesturing to Seb.
“Course.” Aaron gives Robert’s wrist a brief squeeze as he passes him, before settling down next to the paddling pool, flicking some water in Seb’s face to make him laugh.
As he plays with his son, he keeps an eye on the two brothers, watching as they walk to the deckchairs at other end of the garden, sitting sideways on them so they’re facing each other.
Aaron can’t make out exactly what’s being said, not over the sound of Seb’s splashing and yelling, but neither of them look angry, which is a good sign. He just hopes Jack’s name doesn’t come up, otherwise that could all change in a heartbeat.
Andy’s doing most of the talking, elbows resting on his bouncing knees as he leans towards Robert. The expression on his face is uncomfortable but earnest, as he offers what is clearly an apology – Aaron doesn’t need to hear them to know that much. It makes a change; Aaron’s never known anyone so keen to deny any wrongdoing as Andy Sugden – especially when it comes to Robert and their childhood.
Robert keeps his face blank, sitting ramrod straight and staring somewhere past Andy’s shoulder as he listens. But as Andy continues speaking, his face begins softens a little and he eventually begins talking back quietly. Andy fidgets and looks down, but he doesn’t interrupt except to nod occasionally, replying only when Robert finishes speaking. It’s probably the most the Sugden brothers have communicated in years.
Aaron wishes he could lipread. Or that he had a slightly quieter child.
“Daddy!” Seb cries for his attention, hitting him in the chest with a plastic bucket.
“Oh, sorry mate, did you want a shower?” He fills the bucket with water and tips it all over Seb’s head until every inch of him is dripping, causing him to shriek loudly.
“That’s what you get,” Aaron laughs at the indignant expression on his son’s face, before glancing up to see Robert and Andy have stopped talking in favour of watching the scene fondly.
Andy stands and stretches. “I should get going, then,” he says to Robert, who stands to follow him.
“Stay for a bit if you like? We’ve got lemonade in the fridge, lots of ice.”
“Nah, you’re alright. I’m taking Sarah shopping soon,” he claps Robert on the shoulder. “Another time, though?”
“Okay, yeah.”
“I’ll see myself out.” Andy leans down to tickle Seb under the chin. “Enjoy your pool, Seb.”
He starts walking across the grass, before pausing and turning back to them.
“Rob?”
“Yeah?”
“You – you’re my brother,” Andy chews his lip, looking serious. “My family. Family’s supposed to rely on each other, and I made you feel like you couldn’t. I really am sorry.”
There’s a long silence as Robert stares at him, unmoving. For a moment, Aaron thinks he isn’t going to say anything back, and then –
“S’okay, Andy. It’s forgotten.”
“Okay,” Andy nods, sounding relieved. “Oh, and please let Vic know that I’ve spoken to you, will you? Before she castrates me.”
Robert’s mouth twitches. “Can’t have that. I’ll let her know.”
“Cheers. See you, Rob. Aaron.”
Andy takes his leave, shoving his hands in his pockets and disappearing around the corner of the house.
Robert sinks down onto the grass next to Aaron and lets out a long breath.
“Okay?” Aaron asks.
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
Robert smiles and presses a kiss to the side of his head. “I’m fine. We talked, it was good.”
That’s probably the most Aaron’s going to get out of him, for now at least, so he smiles back and snakes an arm around his waist. If Robert’s good, then he’s good.
“D’you want me to get the drinks from the – hey!” Robert splutters when he’s cut off by Seb chucking a bucketful of water in his face, giggling madly when he hits his target with impressive accuracy.
“Good aim, kid,” Aaron grins, ruffling Seb’s soaked hair.
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His Butler, and the Problem with Magic (Ch2)
Fandom: Black Butler | Kuroshitsuji x Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets Crossover
Fic Synopsis: Life at Hogwarts isn’t all bad…usually. But when Valentine’s Day rolls around, and Lockhart throws an extravagant ball, the number of couples at school the next day skyrockets, and Sebastian finds himself a new object of devotion…Can Ciel save his butler from the spell on his own?
Character Focus: Ciel (Edward Midford, Grell, Lizzie, Snape)
Notes: I bet you all thought I forgot about this fic didnt you? SIKE! I forget nothing.
(By the way, I'll definitely repost chapter 1 of this as well, in case you guys forgot about it XD)
I was informed that Valentines day with this coming Sunday and I couldn't believe it. I had been wanting to work on multiple valentines fics and I thought I had weeks left to write them XD So in light of that, I knew I had been slowly chipping away at a chapter 2 of this over time, so I decided to check it out and see how much work I had to do to make it postable in time for valentines day. To my surprise, the chapter was pretty much ready to go! So at long last, here it is!!
I really hope you enjoy it!! If you do, I implore you to consider commenting and/or reblogging!! I assure you its much much more likely this fic will get a chapter 3 if I know that people are interested in reading more <3
@elegantkittycat Tagging you in case you’re still interested in reading more!!
Chapter 2:
Ciel jerked his hand away as the cauldron sizzled, muttering curses under his breath—(the normal kind, not the magic kind). Usually Sebastian managed their clandestine dealings and he didn’t have to worry about burning his fingers off.
His conversation with Tom Riddle had left him with a list of ingredients, and a method of combining them into a potion that would allegedly cure Sebastian and others of this ailment.
He was fully aware trusting strange voices in diaries wasn’t the best decision he could make on the career path of life, but considering he had found no other options, and a whole lot of annoyance, he didn’t have much to lose. Besides, Sebastian was a demon, so even if it was supposed to make your eyes pop out or something, he’d probably be okay.
Ciel looked down the instructions and grimaced, reaching over for the next ingredient, trying not to look directly at it.
Despite the potions classroom being the main place to get potions, and potion making materials, he was not in the potions classroom. This late in the evening, Snape probably would have killed him. He was in a room on the seventh floor which Sebastian had found last May. It seemed to hold within it whatever the person walking by it required.
He dropped the last ingredient in, raised his wand, muttered a very complicated spell and sighed.
The only thing left to do was wait. It had to brew for twenty-four hours, which meant it wouldn’t be ready until six o’clock the next evening. Twenty-four hours was too much time with a love infested school to deal with.
Ciel packed up his stuff and headed out into the hall—making sure to check for Filch first. He was almost back to his common room when—
“CIEL PHANTOMHIVE!”
He nearly tripped and toppled to the ground taking all his supplies and homework with him.
As he righted himself, he jerked his head up to observe the source of the disturbance: a tall, blonde boy, a few years older than Ciel, sporting his Gryffindor robes as if he was the reincarnation of Godric goddamn Gryffindor himself.
Ciel had the displeasure of knowing this boy.
“Edward?!” he growled, recovering his dignity and dusting himself off. “Are you trying to kill me?!”
“That depends,” he said in a low murmur that seemed to hide waves of anger.
He marched up to his future-brother-in-law, stopped far too close, and stared into Ciel’s eyes like he could bore into his brain with his gaze.
“What. Did you do. To my sister?”
“What did I— ?” Ciel blinked, rivalling anger disappearing in the face of concern. “What?”
Edward was the son of the proud, and not to mention handy-with-swords Marquess Midford, and all this noble, virtue-loving, God-fearing, paladin energy was often channeled into being protective of his younger sister Lizzie…who also happened to be Ciel’s fiancé.
“Lizzie. What did you do to her?!”
“Yes, I’m familiar with to whom you’re referring!” He pushed him back, “What’s wrong with her?!”
It was Edward’s turn to blink. “You don’t know?”
“You may or may not have noticed I am otherwise occupied! I’ve been running around trying to save my butler from this hell, thank you very much!”
“Oh,” his eyes flickered.
Ciel looked up at him, then blinked. “You think I caused this?!”
“Well you don’t exactly foster an atmosphere of peace and calm, now do you?”
“I’d thank you to have more confidence in me in the future! For your information, Undertaker caused this!”
“Undertaker?! Oh that slimy bloke hasn’t seen the last of me!” He turned, putting his fist into his palm, beginning to march out of the room.
Ciel lazily grabbed the sleeve of his robe, pulling him back. “Hunting him down isn’t going to get you any answers—and will likely make you more frustrated. Believe me, I’ve already tried. Now, if you’d be so kind, I’d like to know what’s wrong with my fiancé.”
Edward rubbed the back of his head. “Well…”
“Tell me, Edward.” It was Ciel’s turn to stare him down. Apparently it was effective, because Edward couldn’t meet his gaze.
“Well…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I went to go say hi, and I found her sitting in the common room, staring out the window. She barely took any notice of me. And when she did she started spitting prattling nonsense about this man she met,” he said the last words like men were the most revolting things in the planet. “Naturally I assumed this was a newfound appreciation for you, or she simply was admiring Lockhart like she usually does.”—Ciel made a face at this—“But apparently…not.”
Ciel blanched. He was about to speak, but Edward continued:
“When I learned it wasn’t you, I told her to have some decency, but it was as if she couldn’t even hear me!” His air of forced calm broke. “Apparently she’s madly in love with some—some—some idiot!”
“She’s… what?” The words were soft.
“I said—”
“I heard what you said!” He grabbed his robes.
Some third years walked by at that exact moment and stared at them. Ciel released him, and he and Edward paused and waved awkwardly. After they passed, Ciel continued in a shout-whisper.
“How the hell did this happen?! I specifically made sure she stayed away from the punch at that party!”
“The punch? What punch?”
“The punch Undertaker spiked!”
“Undertaker spiked—?! Oh…Maybe she drank some when you weren’t looking? You can’t have been keeping her under constant surveillance, can you?”
“I was watching her very closely, she couldn’t have!” He said, realizing his usually-more-than-adept butler was quite possibly compromised at the time. “When did these symptoms start? The morning after Valentines Day?”
“Um,” Edward put a hand to his chin, thinking, “I…I’m not sure.”
“Oh you’re just useless aren’t you?”
“More useful than you! If you knew it was spiked at the party, why didn’t you tell everyone?! Or try to stop him?!”
“It seemed like a harmless prank!”
“What are we up to?” Snape’s greasy form appeared, cutting the scene.
“Nothing, Professor Snape,” Edward said quickly. “We were just—”
“I wasn’t talking to you.” He folded his arms and stared down his hooked nose at Ciel. “Your detention is to take place tomorrow evening at six o’clock. Meet me in my office. Try not to earn yourself another one before then.”
“Yes, Sir.” Ciel said softly.
Snape’s black robes swished passed them.
“So Lizzie—? Wait, did he just say six o’clock?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Damn it!” Ciel groaned, leaning against the bannister.
“What’s wrong?”
He waved him off. “It’s none of your concern.”
Edward folded his arms and glared at him.
“I’m working on a potion to try to neutralize this whole…love mess.”
“I’d say that’s very much of my concern! You have the antidote?!”
“I said I’m working on it. It’ll be ready at six o’clock tomorrow evening—six o’clockexactly.”
“I guess you’ll have to get it after you get back.” Edward shrugged.
“It’s a very delicate potion I have to—Ugh Nevermind.”
After a pause Edward asked, “…And you’re sure this antidote will work?”
“I’m not sure of much of anything. The only thing I am sure about is if the potion doesn’t kill me, if I’m late to his detention, Snape just might.”
*****
As Ciel sat down to breakfast he made the silent resolve to quickly finish the potion at six o’clock, then speed to the dungeon as fast as possible, taking the bottle with him to his detention, and hurry to Sebastian right afterwards. Snape wouldn’t be happy, but, despite what he said to Edward earlier, the worst he’d do was give him another detention, or take a large sum of house points. And he wasn’t so strict he’d make students empty their pockets, so he shouldn’t notice while he sat sitting for a few hours cleaning viper guts off potion bottles. There was no telling what this potion would do if he left it for however long detention was, so it took priority. And even if his detention went into the night, that would be the perfect time to test it—the demon wouldn’t be asleep anyways.
Ciel was currently trying to make his seat in the great hall a little corner of peace and calm, and block out the chaos in the rest of the hall, setting down his knife properly, trying to ignore the food flying across the hall, when—
“Oh, Brat~!”
Ciel sighed resignedly as his least favorite redhead came swinging into his vision.
“What are you doing back here so soon?” Ciel grumbled, holding his scowling face in one hand, sticking his fork aimlessly into his eggs with the other.
“And when I came all this way to see you, too?!” He turned up his nose in disgust. “I couldn’t possibly get my beauty sleep after I saw my Sebas-chan in such dire straits.” He pulled a scroll out of his jacket pocket, “So I was up all night thinking of ways to get him back to his sexy self!” He unrolled its impressive length, the end landing in Ciel’s eggs.
Ciel couldn’t help but skim through some his ideas, if nothing else for a good laugh.
They ranged from the more simple and reasonable Find the spell, and make a counter curse, and Bash his head in, to the not-so-reasonable Maybe true loves kiss will work~?
“What’s this?” Ciel squinted at a particular line. “‘Put that brat he calls “master” in mortal danger’?”
It was starred and underlined several times.
“Oh you noticed that one did you?” He said in fake innocence. “That’s one of my personal favorites!”
Ciel’s eyes lidded.
“And how exactly would putting me in mortal danger solve the problem of my butler being in love with you?”
“For some reason—can’t see why—Sebas-chan is very attached to you—”
“Sure, it has nothing to do with the contract we made.”
“Yes, yes.” He waved him off. “Well he’s very against you being in any sort of danger. See the idea,”—He put a nail on the table— “is that if we put you in mortal danger his primal demonic—”—he said the word in a way Ciel was not fond of—“inclinations will override the spell and snap him out of it.”
Ciel blinked, staring down at the line of text.
The worst thing was…that actually made some smidgen of sense. You know, in a sadistic kind of way.
“And how would you propose we do that? You know, without actually killing me?”
“Oh all part of the fun. I have a number of ideas as to how we could push you riiight up to the edge! It’ll be delightfully diabolical. Of course, if it doeskill you, well…” he turned away and muttered, “All’s well that ends well, as they say.”
“Not that that doesn’t sound fun…” Ciel stood, pushing the list away. “I’ve found my own way of breaking the spell thank you very much.”
“Oh?” Grell blinked, intrigued. “Have you now?”
“Not that its any of your business, yes.” He brushed himself off, gathering his stuff, “If you’ll excuse me, I have my own business to attend to.”
“Well when that fails don’t hesitate to come crawling back to your favorite reaper Grellypoo ~!” He rolled up the scroll.
“You’re not even my fifth favorite reaper!” He threw over his shoulder.
“But at least I’m on the list!”
*****
Due to the fact that little real learning was happening on either side—unless you count learning too much about various students and teacher’s romantic habits—they had decided to cancel classes for the time being. This gave the teachers more time to devote to finding the cure as well.
Ciel decided to take this time to ascertain the validity of Edward’s statement the night previous and visit Lizzie.
She was a Gryffindor like her brother. Visiting the Gryffindor common room wouldn’t be first, or even last, in a list of things he wanted to do…but he’d half to bear it.
As he walked up the stairs he bumped into someone. At first they apologized and continued walking but soon the other person called back:
“Hey, I ran into yesterday didn’t I?”
Ciel turned to see none other than Harry Potter.
“Yes?”
“Did you happen to see a diary? Like when you were helping me pick up my stuff?”
“The great Harry Potter keeps a diary?”
Harry rolled his eyes. “It’s not my diary. Just a diary.”
“A diary that just so happened to find its way into your bag?”
“Well…yeah.”
“Sorry to say, I haven’t seen it.”
“Hmm…Alright. Thanks anyways.” He waved as he continued down the stairs.
As another Gryffindor left, he slipped into the common room.
Lizzie was sitting in a chair against the window, just like Edward said she would be. She rested her hand on her chin, her elbow on the table, and watched the rain fall.
“Lizzie!” he ran up to her.
“Oh…Ciel…it’s you,” she said in a dreamy, nonplussed tone.
“Yes it’s me. What happened? Have you completely lost your senses?!”
“No I’d say my senses are in tact thank you. And I’d thank you not to ask a lady such an impolite question.”
“Sorry but…what happened? Why are you—?”
“I don’t know. I just, of a sudden, found him to very attractive one morning, and I’m having trouble thinking of much else.”
“Who?” He sat in the chair across from her.
“That’s not really of your concern, is it?”
“It is when I’m your fiancé!” He said a little too loudly, making Gryffindors turn towards him.
“Mm…” She muttered like it wasn’t an issue.
“Lizzie, I tried to make sure you didn’t drink that punch at the party! How did this happen?!”
“Party?” She paused, and for a moment he wasn’t sure she was even going to continue the conversation. “…Oh I don’t know. I seem to faintly recall the most beautiful man I’d ever met saying I simply must try it.”
His eyes widened. “Someone gave it to you directly?! Who?! Why?!”
“I’ve already tried that, I don’t think you’ll get much luck. She won’t tell me either.” Edward arrived at his side, then leaned over and whispered, “I think she knows we’ll come after him.”
“I was going to opt for slow psychological torture,” he muttered back, “but I’d like to hear more about your method.”
Edward tried to suppress a smile.
“And you really love this man?” Ciel asked Lizzie.
“Oh, with all my heart!” She seemed to gain a rush of energy.
He sighed, realizing more questions would be futile, and getting up.
“Alright well…” He ran his hand gently over Lizzie’s fingers. “I-I’ll see you soon.”
“You’ll give me the potion as soon as you can, right?” Edward demanded.
“I’m going to use Sebastian as a test subject, but, if it works, then this will be my next stop.”
“The password is ‘chocolate frog.’ Feel free to wake me up. I can’t stand another minute knowing Lizzie is in love with some-some lunatic!”
“We’ll figure it out, don’t worry.”
*****
Ciel carefully held the porcupine quills, and gingko leaves over the cauldron, dripping them in one at a time, stirring counterclockwise with his other hand, glancing continually back to the instructions.
Finishing off the potion was proving no easier than making the rest of it, but at last, it gave a final sigh, and turned a foggy white.
Ciel gave his own sigh of relief, before using tongs to dip and fill the bottle beside him, making sure to clean off the sides of it—(it was a good thing he used a towel to do so, because the stray drops burned through the fabric).
He held up the bottle, staring at the potion. At long last. Finally, after three days of slow torture, he’d finally be rid of this curse, and the world could return to its normal state—demon butlers included.
He slipped one into his robe pocket and the moment he stepped out of the room, he sped off towards Snape’s dungeon for his detention without a moment to clean up the rest.
He hadn’t intended to burst through the door, but he found himself doing that a lot over these past few days.
Snape’s black eyes narrowed upon his panting form as if he were a worm to bottle. Then they flicked to the clock.
“You’re late.”
“I’m sorry, Professor, I—”
Snape held up a hand to stop him. “The last three days have been longer than the past few months, and am not interested in feeble excuses, Mr. Phantomhive.” He glided around his desk, but instead of setting him up at a desk, he marched past him, swung open, and exited the classroom.
Ciel paused a moment, leaning over to the side, watching him exit, a quizzical look on his face, before deciding he wanted him to follow him.
“Where are we going, Professor?” He asked as he caught up—(not altogether happy that he’d have to do more walking after the run he just made).
“Your detention is to take place in the Forbidden Forest tonight.”
Ciel’s eyes widened.
Snape raised an eyebrow. “Is our dear Mister Phantomhive afraid of the dark?”
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m just a little surprised, that’s all…due to it being forbidden and all.”
Snape smirked. “Most of the time, yes. But on some extra special detentions we may take students inside.”
He was right: The Forbidden Forest wasn’t exactly a common detention spot, though it wasn’t unheard of either. What was more surprising was that Snape taking him there. Usually Snape’s detentions consisted of pickling rat brains, or cleaning octopi suckers off desks. Not that he’d been to very many of his detentions—he’d always been pretty good at potions. It was this godforsaken spell that had reduced him to a less-than-model student.
“Professor, may I ask what exactly will we be doing?” He asked as they traversed the grounds, the trees growing ever closer.
“You will be coming with me to gather a rare flower that lives in these woods.”
Ciel gave a curt nod. It was a moment or two before he asked, “May I ask what it’s for?”
“I am a potions master, Mister Phantomhive. I encourage you to use your brain.”
“I understand that. But what potion is it for, Sir?”
“I am attempting to remedy the spell that has plagued the school.”
Ciel fell silent at that, resisting the urge to tell him he already had the solution in his pocket.
They arrived at the edge of the forest, the trees reaching towards them with gnarled claws, the darkness like curtains for a stage set.
“Lumos.” Snape spoke, and Ciel drew his wand and did the same as they ventured into the shadows.
The trees seemed to taunt them, to whisper about them, to dare them to come any closer, any phantom sound at home here.
After more than a few minutes walk in silence—quite possibly half an hour—Snape stopped and spoke: “They should be around here, nor should they be difficult to spot. Look for a glowing blue flower.”
Ciel made a move to venture off in search of them, but Snape grabbed his arm, warning:
“Don’t wander off where you can’t see me.”
Ciel nodded before venturing into the trees, scanning the ground for anything glowing, or blue, continually glancing back to make sure he could still make out the figure of his teacher.
It wasn’t long before he saw something glowing, and ran up to it. …It turned out just to be a mushroom.
As he sighed disappointedly, and stood back up, he saw two beady eyes staring at him from the darkness.
His heart began to pound as he stared, unsure if he should back up, stand his ground, play dead, or attack, the ghost of a certain name forming on his tongue.
He never had to fear beady eyes, bandits, or bullets with Sebastian around. This was the first time he felt real fear in a long while.
A black spectral horse reared out of the bushes, its eyes aglow with more than just a reflection of the dark.
It stepped towards him in slow, calculated hoofbeats, flaring its nostrils a little too frequently for his liking.
He’d read about these before.
He continued backing up, as the thestral didn’t seem like it planned on stopping its pursuit anytime soon.
“Mister Phantomhive,”—Snape’s voice was low, warning—“I am aware you likely don’t see anything but—”
“I can see it.” He continued his reverse walk.
Snape gave him a short glance like he had a newfound respect for him.
These creatures only appeared to people who had seen death, and he was sure the look in his parents’ eyes that night sufficed. But they didn’t commonly act like this.
Snape lifted his wand, casting a nonverbal spell, and the thestral fell to the ground with a bloodcurdling whinny too much like a scream, ropes binding its legs.
Ciel let out a relieved exhale as Snape joined him.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine…Thestrals…they aren’t commonly…aggressive, are they?”
“No.” Snape muttered softly, gazing for a moment at the now-helpless creature, then turned sharply to Ciel, pointing his wand at him. “Empty your pockets.”
Ciel jerked his head to the professor, saying a little too loudly, “What?!”
The thestral fought against the binds, and Ciel took a step back.
“I said, ‘empty your pockets.’”
“Why?!”
Snape flicked his wand, and his pockets’ contents excavated themselves of their own volition.
Snape grabbed the potion from the air, and let the rest of spare quills and things fall helplessly to the forest floor. He held it up and stared at it, observing the contents, his emotion as imperceptible as always. Then he lifted the cork, sniffing it. His eyes widened and he jerked to look at Ciel, his eyes almost more terrifying than those of the thestral, and definitely not holding a look his eyes had ever contained for him before.
“Where did you get this?” He whispered.
“Excuse me?”
He lifted the potion up, and violently smashed it on the ground, the contents breaking out with a puff of smoke, spilling helplessly onto the forest floor.
“NO!”
Snape grabbed his arm as Ciel made to reach for it, as if to save the unsalvageable.
“I said—” he grabbed both his arms, forcing him to look at him. “Where. Did you get that?”
“Sir…. I don’t understand…”
Snape’s face was far too close to him for comfort.
“Listen to me and listen to me very carefully. That potion is more than dangerous—it’s banned in every major country. It’s not something I could easily mistake. If you were to use it, you wouldn’t just die an excruciating death, it would rot you from the inside, and leave you open to the possession of any vile spirit in the vicinity. A fourteen-year-old boy such as yourself shouldn’t be carrying it around in his pocket,” he spat. “And I’d like to think that you didn’t know what it was when you gained possession of it. Now.” His grip tightened on one of his arms, his nails digging in, as he put his wand to his throat with the other enunciating each word, “WHERE. DID. YOU. GET. IT?!”
#black butler#kuroshitsuji#harry potter#harry potter crossover#black butler crossover#ciel phantomhive#kuroshitsuji crossover#sebastian michaelis#grell sutcliff#severus snape#edward midford#lizzie midford#crossover#harry potter and the chamber of secrets#hpatcos#harry potter fandom#black butler fandom#kuroshitsuji fandom#ciel black butler#black butler fanfiction#kuroshitsuji fanfiction#harry potter fanfiction#black butler fic#black butler fanfic#kuroshitsuji fanfic#kuroshitsuji fic#harry potter fanfic#harry potter fic#potterheads
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The Assistant / Chapter Twenty Seven, “Meet Me in the Hallway”
New to the story or want to catch up? Find all chapters HERE! :-)
Ok I didnt forget this time :/
* SNEAKYYYYYYYYY PEEK TIME *
“Why’re you annoyed I said that? Is it ‘cause that’s what you want? Did I expose your secret fantasy? ‘Cause ya know you can still go and date him, maybe it’s even easier now that you don’t work for him anymore.”
“Robbie, stop.”
“I can keep a secret. Scout’s honor.”
“No, you can’t! You always say that and it’s never true. And you were never in Boy Scouts,” I scoff, holding onto tufts of his jean jacket.
“I was too! Now, stop avoiding the question. Why won’t you give Harry another chance?” Robbie continues, veering back to the topic I so conveniently changed.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Hmmm, I don’t think I believe you, Ree,” Robbie tsks. “But I’m going to get the truth out of you one of these times.”
P.S - I apologize for any spelling/grammar errors or stuff that should be bolded/italicized that I missed, I already edited this chapter on here a few times and Tumblr kept losing it ugh.
Enjoy!
“I don’t know,” she replies, yanking at the corners of my heart. A sigh escapes my lips when I feel my heavy head fall into my hands. “M-my dad,” Becky continues, but her words collapse into tears before too long.
I almost tell her that I already know, but my lips stop just in time. I don’t want her to get mad at Asher. And if I’m honest, our secret elevator meetings to talk about her are the highlight of my week. But my lips search for something to say. The sound of her tears is all I can hear, no matter how badly I ache to take them away.
“He has c-cancer, Harry,” Becky says, her words tumbling out sloppily. They pull at my heart again, making it fall another notch.
“Fuuuuuuuuck . . . . ’m so sorry, Becks . . . . Are ya okay?”
“No, w-why would I be? How could I be?” she responds, her words falling out fast.
“Becks . . have ya been drinkin’, love?” I ask tentatively, wincing when I hear her groan.
“I don’t wanna ‘ear it. Imma grown woman. I can bloody drink if I want t’ and-,” she argues, her voice steely. I’m caught off guard by the confrontation, and it only makes me feel worse.
“Tha’s not what I meant, love. I jus’ . . . ,” I try, my train of thought fleeing me. All of my thoughts do, because I wasn’t expecting this. I don’t even know if I’d have any better idea of what to say if I’d had notice she was going to call. That she was going to remember who I was for the first time in 9 months. “Are ya atta pub? Cuz I jus’ wanna know yer safe. I can leave an’ give ya a lift home if ya need,” I finish, unsure of how she’ll take my words.
She’s quiet and it only makes the scary thoughts buzz louder in my head.
What if she gets the idea to drive herself home?
What if some drunk bloke bothers her and she can’t fend for herself?
What if she tries to walk home in the rainstorm?
What if she keeps drinking, not knowing when to stop?
What if-
“No, I’m at home. In me bed. I’m not st- dumb, Harry,” she slurs, showing me a side of her I’ve never seen. We’ve had drinks together before - in my office or rarely at a pub. But she never got drunk before.
“I don’ think ya are, bug,” I counter, the nickname falling effortlessly from my tongue. “’m really sorry ‘bout yer dad. D’ya know how bad it ‘s yet?”
“Noooo, other than that ’s somewhere . . . like in uh Stage 2 . . or somefiing,” Becky answers, her words all over the place. “It’s t-the prostate. Ya know that fing that uh . . . is . . where ‘s it ‘gain?” One of her many words that don’t make much sense.
“Ya I know what it ‘s an’ where. I uh have one of ‘em,” I finish for her. I’m rewarded by hearing her decadent laugh. A sound I’ve craved and missed for so long. I missed it more than I thought I had, I realize as a smile pulls my cheeks upwards.
“Oh ya. I uh kinda forgot ‘bout dat,” she titters, encouraging a chuckle from my now smiling lips.
But her laugh fades first and mine follows. Because she didn’t call to laugh at my lame jokes, or to catch up on things we’ve missed in each other's lives. No, not really.
“He’d been ‘aving pains. So bad he can’t eat, or use the uh loo . . He told me when we was there wit’ Robbie and . . . . he looked baaad,” she tells me, her voice catching on the last word. I feel my heart shudder in pain again, and suddenly I realize the validity of the second-hand pain phenomenon. “And I jus’ dunno ‘ow I’m gonna do dis. I wanna help him and take care o’ him . . . But I’m t’ree hours ‘way and . . . I just dunno how t’ do dis.”
“There’s no real setta rules, love. No guideline or brochure fer how t’ handle it . . Ya jus’ gotta do yer best, an’ love him . . ‘m sorry,” I tell her, not knowing what else to say.
“You’re sorry?” she laughs, pulling my eyebrows into a knot. “Tha’s a firssssst.”
I listen to her laugh some more, savoring it. But I’m also confused and a little offended. But then it stops abruptly and I hear her sniffle. “I’m the one whoooo should be sorry,” she begins, tears lacing into her words. And taking all of mine with them. “You’re just trynaaaa help, and I’m bein’ mean and rude just like I always am to ya. Ughhhh, I dunno why I even called.”
“No, ‘s okay. Yer goin’ thru a lot an’ . . . I appreciate ya callin’. I jus’ hope ‘m helpin’,” I say quickly, dropping a hand in defeat. It finds its way to my pants and I pick at the loose thread that’s been bothering me all day.
“But I am, Harry! I’m mean and I make no sense a-and I’m jus’ loadin’ onto ya. But I dunno who else t’ call, cuz ’m tryna t’ be strong forrrrr Robbie. And not worry Skye, an’ I jus’ dunno what t’ do, Harry,” Becky says, the last of her words dissolving into sobs. Biting my lip at the sound of her crying into my ear, I keep biting and biting as she cries. I yank at the thread and feel it dig into my skin, but I don’t let go. “I don’t wanna lose me dad afta I already lost you.”
It takes a few seconds of telling myself, but I slowly release my bottom lip. I huff, swiping my tongue across my lips. I taste the metally blood coming from the stinging cut. And then the warm taste of salt joins it on my tongue. Pressing my lips together, the pain only intensifies. But I let it stay as tears roll down my cheek. My finger burns, but only for a few short seconds when I finally rip the thread from my pants. It doesn’t compare to the pain I feel inside of my chest, like a vice around my heart. Tightening and throbbing.
The line grows silent, but I know she’s there. Because I hear her shallow breathing, and the occasional sniffle. And I know that she’s still crying, because I hear the whimpers that she tries to hide. Even if she is drunk. And the pain only keeps coming, because I hate that I can’t do anything to stop hers. Nothing at all.
“I miss ya so much, Becks,” I whisper, not believing the words coming from my mouth. But they feel good. Freeing. Almost exciting.
“I . . . I do too, b-but I can’t go down that road ‘gain, Harry. I- I can’t do this,” she rushes. I hear noises on her line, but I can’t get out the words before the it goes dead. Silence.
I feel my phone slide from my hands slick with tears. It falls to the floor with a thud, but I hardly hear it. Because her voice is drowning out the sounds of everything else.
The thunder.
The rain falling harder by every second.
I press the pads of my fingers into my eyes and let my own rain fall. My fingers grow wet with every tear. Every single one I held in as her voice graced my ears. The tears that grew from the pain I heard in her voice. From when I heard about her dad’s diagnosis. And I think the ones I’ve been pushing away for a long time.
The rain welcomes a friend, and I join the drops drilling against the glass until the storm passes. But I know that although the storm inside of me passed for a little while, that it’s only come back stronger. The velvety sofa cushions and pillow welcome my tired body. I fall into a fitful sleep with her comforting voice dancing through my head. The only place I can see her again, and where I didn’t fuck everything up.
+
“Don’t worry, Becky. We’ll get this all figured out. You just do your best and take care of yourself and your father. Keep me updated on what you learn, and if you need extensions. Alright?”
“I can’t tell you how grateful I am,” I reply emphatically.
He nods before patting my arm and telling me to have a good day. I return it before leaving his office and feeling the slightest weight leave my shoulders. That was the easy part, I think to myself as I find my way through the twisty halls.
Looping my arm through my other backpack strap, I turn a corner and keep walking. I feel my heartbeat start to slow down after that nervous meeting with Professor Alcott, finishing up my afternoon of meeting with my professors. I couldn’t even believe the words leaving my mouth to grace their ears.
My dad was diagnosed with Stage 2 prostate cancer recently. We still don’t know a lot, but I wanted to let you know. I plan to still stay enrolled in the program and I’m committed to my courses. At the same time, I’m going to do what I can to take care of him. I will keep you updated as I learn more, but there are still a lot of unknowns at this point and . . . , I think, pausing the track I had on repeat for the last few hours. I had to figure out what to say, then rehearse it, and then say all of those words to the stern-looking expressions of my professors. Two of whom I’ve never even met before, because I’m taking their classes online. But my advisor, Sally, told me it would be best to meet with them in person. It’s more personal and shows your commitment blah blah, she said.
I’m just glad to have that part over with, I sigh inwardly.
The first fallen leaves of Fall crunch under my lace up purple Vans. The crisp air welcomes me. For a few seconds, I lose myself in the beginnings of the changing colors of Autumn. But the incessant worrying thoughts that have plagued my mind sit at the back, ready to pounce. I was rather numb for the first several days. I didn’t know how to function normally. Let alone inform my professors professionally and in person about the events that just rocked my life. I’m relieved that they were all very accommodating and kind to me about the news. But I know that the hard work is just about to begin.
A U2 song pours from my speakers as I back out of my parking space and start my journey home. I try to lose myself in the beloved lyrics, but it’s hard. When they become too relatable and too nostalgic, I skip it and the stereo player whirs as it thinks. My Spotify chooses a song at random - a favorite by Vance Joy. I roll my windows down and try to sing along.
I close my apartment door with my foot, sifting through the mail.
A bill. An advert for Skye. Another bill. Another cosmetology advert for Skye. An advert from my uni. Something Skye ordered from Amazon. A random magazine subscription that I most definitely don’t want to subscribe to. A sheet of Domino’s coupons. And a square periwinkle envelope with my name scrawled across the front. No return address.
My feet stop in the middle of toeing off my shoes. The one falls to the floor with an echoing thud. I swallow and pad slowly over to the kitchen island. Pushing Skye’s mess over, I let the pile of mail fall with a slap. With one shoe still on, I soon find myself sitting on the arm of the sofa. Backpack still heavy on my shoulders. Keys still hanging around my finger. But all I can focus on is the periwinkle envelope in my hands. And that familiar handwriting.
I hug it to my chest and tap my fingers along it as I think.
I know what it feels like, but I don’t know if I want to open it.
Because I know what will happen if I do.
But I can’t deny the first bubbles of excitement rising in my chest.
The first feelings of happiness I’ve felt in 11 days.
11 days since my dad announced that he has cancer. The dreaded C word.
My thumb does the first rip without me barely registering it. My excited heartbeat eggs me on. I try to rip it neatly, and leave the pretty envelope intact. But I’ve never been good at opening mail neatly. It’s just too exciting. I see the cursive word on the back first. The card company’s name.
The card is a periwinkle purple, like the envelope. He remembered it’s my favorite. My eyes fall closed without warning when I feel the hard square inside of the card. A sigh escapes my lips. It only grows longer when I feel the tiny imprints the pen left from pressing down hard in the author’s hand.
Exhaling slowly, I flip the card over and find a saying that I glance over. The cursive words made permanent by gold lettering tug at my heart. But I know that’s only the beginning. My finger pries at the opening and runs along the inside, feeling the bumpy impressions of the ink words. I rip the bandaid off and open it. But before I read anything, I grab a hold of the plastic square. I place it behind the card in my grip.
One step at a time.
The inside of the card is painted with sloppy black writing. At the sight of it, I watch my sight grow hazy. Starting at the beginning, I blink and feel the first tear fall when I see my name.
Harry’s name for me.
Dear Becks,
I saw this card and thought of you. The little bunny on the front just screamed your name, and well it harassed me during my whole shopping trip to buy it. Isn’t it just adorable? It made me think of the story you told me once about the baby bunny you found with your dad that was hurt. You both nursed it back to health before it hopped away back into the woods. Or your Dad called the animal services to take it to rehabilitate it. You said you couldn’t remember. Anyways, it made me think of you and the unimaginable pain you’re going through. You and your family. I never had the pleasure to meet your Dad but I wanted to extend my sympathies. He must be a pretty incredible man seeing how well you and Robbie turned out. You always spoke fondly of him. I know you’re very close to him, and because of that I know this is even harder for you. I’m so sorry. I’ve been thinking of you and your family often, and wishing there was something I could do to help. I’m so sorry, Becks. I really am. I don’t think there’s much else I can say to comfort you right now, or if there is I don’t know what it is. I’d just suggest doing what you can to be with your father during this time, and although it may be difficult to see him in pain, I think you’d be happy if you were there. No matter how things turn out, I think it would mean a lot to the both of you. I’ve experienced grandparents and loved ones passing, and it’s the shits but whoever said that it’s better to suffer together than by yourself was right. But please take care of yourself too. I don’t know what your plans are, but please don’t load your plate too full. Okay? I’m sorry, but you won’t be much help to your Dad if you’re giving yourself too much work. I’m so sorry that this is happening to you, Becks. It pains me more than you could know to know that you’re going through this. You and your family will be in my thoughts and prayers during this difficult time. Please let them know that. Take care of yourself, please. For you and your dad. If there is anything at all I can do to help please don’t be afraid to let me know. In the meantime, I hope that this Visa gift card will help. I recall you said you’re from Madley and your dad still lives there, which is quite the trip. I hope this money will help pay for petrol, meals, hospital bills, and anything else that may help make you and your dad comfortable. Myles’ brother who’s a doctor knows of some good docs at The Royal London Hospital where he works - if you’re interested, just give him a ring. I’ll be praying for a hopeful diagnosis and outlook for your dad, and that he recovers from this. I hope you’re hanging in there, Becks. Just take it one day at a time.
Harry xxxxx
My chest shakes with a sob as I breathe in, but it’s so hard. And it hurts. Closing the card, I cover my face with it. And feel the warm tears paint my cheeks. I don’t know where they come from or how I haven’t ran out of them yet, but they keep coming. Without knowing it, I find myself sliding off the sofa and down onto the floor to rest against the sofa. Ugly sounds leave my lips and my body shakes with each sob. For the first time in days, there’s a feeling inside of me stronger than sadness for my dad.
Longing.
Missing.
I miss Harry. And I let myself feel all of it. Like I haven’t been letting myself for months. I forgot how much I missed him.
The way he could make me laugh.
How he always knew what to say without worrying it being the right thing.
His sunshine smile.
His molasses like voice - deep, rich, and syrupy sweet.
And most of all, the way his hugs fixed me like a bandaid. I feel my heart wrench with everything I miss, but it especially hurts when I think about how much I miss his hugs. And how badly I crave one right now. No, I need one.
I cry harder at that, because apparently things can get worse right now, I think inside the chaos that is my mind.
I miss my dad, even though I saw him yesterday when I went back home. And then I miss Harry, even though I kicked him out of my life. Even though I heard his molasses voice the other day when I mistakenly called him after drinking a bottle of wine.
I miss him so much and it hurts.
I didn’t know that I could even hurt more than I already was.
And I wouldn’t have guessed that his card warms my heart, and breaks it at the same time.
+
My thumb wavers over the keyboard of letters, indecisive and lost. I groan and walk away, padding out of the room and into our main living area.
“You better be getting a snack since you didn’t eat dinner,” Skye calls out to me from her perch on the sofa.
“Okay, Mom,” I retort, searching the shelves of the fridge. It sounds bad, but it only took Skye a major life event to do a decent job at grocery shopping, I recount. Grabbing a yogurt from the drawer, an apple, and a spoon from others, I leave with my dinner in hand.
The food falls to my desk with a clatter as my attention diverts to my phone. Waking it back up, I see the words I had typed out before. Without another thought, I press Send. With wide eyes and a shaky hand, I lay my phone face down away from me. I’ve only gotten settled and read a few lines from my textbook when my phone chimes. With teenage jittery excitement, I stare at it for a few seconds before daring to pick it up. My heart does a somersault in my chest at the sight of the name.
Harry.
I read over my text first, and then read his.
Me
Hi. I can’t thank you enough for the incredibly sweet card. The gift card was more than generous. I don’t know which I cried more at. Just THANK YOU. A lot. I don’t know how many times I can say that. It was so kind of you to think of me and my dad.
Harry
hi! stop it youre more than welcome. im glad you liked the card. i wasnt sure if it was 2 dorky. u better not have cried at it. im here if u need anything. have a good night xxxx
My thumbs dance around on the screen. But before long, I set it down and try to immerse myself in my textbook. But it’s hard, because all I can do is think about him and our texts. I was texting him and we were talking, my over excited teenage-like mind thinks. But the adult part of it sweeps it under the rug, or tries to. Those two parts fight each other as I struggle to make sense of the chapter I’m reading. Because the teenage girl side wants to text him back, but the adult side argues there’s nothing to say. And that won’t I just get hurt again? I find myself nodding at that. Or more so, the argument it makes about there being no point in it. But the teenaged side reads into his words and grows excited at some of them. Talk about distracting.
“Oh my god, just stop!” I mutter aloud, covering my ears but it doesn’t work. Groaning, I flip the page and read on.
He helped and his card stands on my desk now, but I need to focus on my dad. And school. And this fricken boring chapter that I have an upcoming quiz on.
+
Voices carry down the tiled hallways. The sounds of footsteps sound like ghosts around me. So do the memories I have of these halls. Ones that stab at my insides as I walk further into them. I turn a corner and find the light at the end of the tunnel. He senses me and looks up. He shows a small smile as he crosses his arms over his chest. He’s continued to ignore the the circle of chairs in the waiting area. Instead, he leans against the wall nearby the door we’ve been staring at.
“Is he done with his labs yet?”
He shakes his head no, narrowing his eyes at me. “You said you weren’t going to go and cry in the bathroom, you liar,” Robbie jokes, but I don’t laugh. He purses his lips and holds his arm out for me.
I walk into them and rest my head on his chest. “Yeah well, you tell everybody that you’re the older twin when you’re not,” I quip with a sniffle. A laugh rumbles underneath my cheek.
“That’s ‘cause I am.”
“No, you’re not. Dad only said that when we got in fights to make you feel better,” I reply, closing my eyes and listening to his heartbeat. For some reason, his hugs never fail to calm me down. After a fight we had whether we were 5 or 15, when I snuck into his bed at night when mom and dad were fighting, after a pet died, even after a bad day at school, and especially lately with dad’s diagnosis. It only strengthens my belief about the whole twin thing.
He scoffs in reply and my lips find a laugh. “I want to see our birth certificates and settle this once and for all.”
I giggle into his warm chest and close my eyes. But then the thoughts and not longer after, the tears arrive. Robbie squeezes me and tickles my back with his fingers.
“They sounded hopeful at least,” he says quietly.
“Yeah, but they want to do chemo before and after surgery.”
“I know, but they said they have to be sure. If things look good when they’re doing the surgery, like clean margins or whatever it was, then he might not need chemo afterwards,” Robbie points out and I nod, feeling the damp spots on his shirt from my tears.
“He seems like he’s holding it all together pretty well.”
“Yeah he’s always had super strength. Remember in primary when we wrote that dad was our hero-.”
“And mom got mad,” I finish for him, adding my laughter to his.
“Yeah. And even though we made that superhero poster about him, I never stopped seeing him as a superhero,” Robbie says, slowly trailing off when the emotions steal his words.
“Bee, stop, you’re gonna make me cry even more.”
He laughs for a second, but then I hear him start to cry. His chest trembles underneath me. I give up and cry with him.
“Harry sent me a card in the mail,” I sob, hiccuping in between words.
“He did? I always knew I liked that guy. What’d it say?”
Something half-scoff and half-laugh is my response before I take a big breath. “I don’t know, it was just so sweet and kind. He said that he’s thinking of all of us, and told me to take care of myself. He said he knows it’s hard to see people you love suffering, but that it’s better to suffer together than on your own,” I choke out, tears drowning my words. “The card had a bunny on it. He said he got it because I told him the story of how Dad and I saved that hurt bunny. I wish he could’ve met dad when I still worked there . . And he sent a $150 Visa gift card to use for bills, petrol, and food.”
“Wow, that’s crazy generous. Wait, what? You two didn’t save it, the animal control people did,” Robbie argues and I just shake my head. “And don’t say it like that. Dad’s too stubborn to die, you know that. And with how much you talk about Harry, I’m sure you guys are gonna get coffee one day and fall in love and get married,” he continues, his voice quickly turning mocking and girly. I laugh and shove him, stepping away with a laugh.
“What?” he laughs. His voice is still under water, as is mine. “Why’re you annoyed I said that? Is it ‘cause that’s what you want? Did I expose your secret fantasy? ‘Cause ya know you can still go and date him, maybe it’s even easier now that you don’t work for him anymore.”
“Robbie, stop,” I reply, laughing with emotions fighting in my voice.
“C’mere,” he says, pulling me into his arms once again. “Ya know you can tell me. I can keep a secret. Scout’s honor.”
“No, you can’t! You always say that and it’s never true. You blabbed to the whole 1st grade I had a crush on Johnny Turner. Then, when I gave you a second chance, you did the same thing again in 8th grade with Willie. And you were never in Boy Scouts,” I scoff, holding onto tufts of his jean jacket.
“I was too!”
“Being it for one week and quitting because you went home in the middle of the first camp doesn’t count!”
“I still think it does. I have the outfit, sash, hat, and everything still. I made dad proud, and you know it. Now, stop avoiding the question. Why won’t you give Harry another chance?” Robbie continues, veering back to the topic I so conveniently changed.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Hmmm, I don’t think I believe you, Ree,” Robbie tsks, his scratchy chin resting on top of my head. We hear the click of a door open, and I frantically wipe my eyes. “But I’m going to get the truth out of you one of these times.”
I roll my eyes at Robbie as I peer up at him. He winks before sloppily kissing my head.
“Come on, you rascals. Let’s get outta here before they try to poke me with any more needles,” our dad says, walking out of the room with his jacket folded over his arms.
I know he knows we’ve been crying, but he doesn’t mention it. I think another secret language is already starting to form between us. With Robbie’s arm around my shoulder, I grab hold of my dad’s hand. He turns to flash a tired smile at me, before placing a kiss on my forehead.
“Thanks for coming, guys,” he hums quietly as we stop in front of an elevator. His smile tugs at my heart. I’m just thankful to be able to still see it.
Stepping onto the elevator, he squeezes my hand hard, just like he always has done. “Dad, don’t!” I yelp and he chuckles under his breath.
After pressing the button for the lobby, I see Robbie’s lips bend upwards. This can’t be good. “Hey, dad, when we get home can you pull out our birth certs? I need to know the truth of who’s really the older twin.”
“Oh god. You two are 25 years old, when is this going to be over?!” my dad huffs, rubbing at his eyes, but with a smile. “Maybe I won’t take you with the next time, since it’s giving you existential crises,” he threatens, and we all fall into easy laughter.
“I’m gonna have an existential crisis if I found out you’ve been lying to me for my whole life,” Robbie exclaims and we all only laugh harder.
+
My backpack and coat fall to the floor with a heavy thud. With a yawn, I bend over to grab my things. The sound of chattering surrounds me. It slowly grows in volume as I sit there tiredly with my head down. I hear footsteps, laughs, and the scuffling of moved objects.
“Wake up!” a voice nudges at me. I groan angrily in response and hear laughter in response. I peek through a crack in my arm to find Ruby’s crazy red hair bobbing next to me. My newest friend from Criminology. “Just ‘cause we have a guest speaker today, doesn’t mean you can sleep.”
“Oh, that’s today?” I reply excitedly, returning to the warm cocoon of my arms.
“Yeah, but we still have to take notes. Ya know like last Wednesday when we had our first guest speaker? We had to write down questions for them, even if we don’t end up asking them. Alcott just wants us to get thinking and to well, pay attention. And not fall asleep like somebody! And then we have to write down 8 things that interested us, so get unpacking,” Ruby replies, her chipper voice drilling into my ears.
“Noooooo,” I moan, scrunching my face in secret.
I hear the door to the lecture hall close with a loud bang and Alcott laughs. “Alright, you lot, look alive. Our guest speaker has arrived and is ready to dazzle you this rainy Wednesday morning. Remember to be working on your page of ‘Ahas’ whilst he’s speaking. You’ll be passing it in at the end of class which is in 50 minutes,” Alcott announces. His Southern accent coming out in a few of his words.
“Shitttttt. I think I might like this guest speaker. Look at him, Becky. He is fineeeeeee,” Ruby whispers, elbowing me hard in the arm.
With a whimper, I sit up with a secret stretch. Combing my hair back, I rub at one of my eyes as they both struggle to focus.
“What, who’s fine? What’s fine?” another voice blurts out. I squint and look over to find Simon taking the seat on the other side of me. The little Criminology trio back together again.
“Not you being tardy, that’s not fine,” Ruby retorts with a smirk in her voice. I can’t help but smile. Simon flashes one at me as he combs a hand through his sandy hair after digging in his backpack.
“So without further ado, I’d like to introduce our guest speaker today. Harry Styles from Styles and Lawson. Let’s welcome Mr. Styles with open arms and give him our undivided attention, please.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mumble under my breath, coaxing a confused ‘what’ from Ruby and Simon’s lips .
“Hullo, class. My name ‘s Harry Styles, but ya can call me Harry. Ummmmm as Professor Alcott said, ‘m from tha London law firm Styles and Lawson. Me mate, Myles Lawson, makes up tha otha half o’ tha firm. This year it’ll be 5 years since we started tha firm togetha, which ‘s bloody crazy t’ me. Before, it was his dad’s firm, and long story short, Myles an’ I got togetha an’ here we are. Anyways, I make me rounds in London talkin’ t’ law classes. I’ve always enjoyed speakin’ t’ tha incomin’ lawyers an’ tellin’ some o’ me stories. An’ me favorite part - answerin’ questions. I thought ‘d start with how I got into law, tho’.”
Shit. I really should’ve known this would happen.
“Nothing,” I reply. “J-just hand me a piece of paper and a pencil, please,” I say briskly to Ruby.
The last thing I want is to make a single sound that will bring attention to me. But it seems like the universe doesn’t really care lately what I want. I’m already trying to figure out my odds of him spotting me in the sea of 50-so students. Amongst 35 or so ogling girls. Typical.
But the more my eyes focus and my ears attune themselves, I lose myself. I knew it wasn’t a dream when I heard the first word from his mouth. I’d know that voice anywhere. But when my eyes finally focus on the towering figure standing at the front of the room, my eyes struggle. Gone are his long curly locks, and replacing them is a short and curly quiff. I try to ignore the somersaults my insides are doing, but it’s terribly difficult.
Taking a deep breath, I savor listening to the words fall from those smiling cherry lips. In that slow, calming voice. Never being able to remain in one place, he paces around the front of the room slowly. Clad in a gray suit with a black button down, I slowly melt next to Ruby. Who from her choice of words, is doing about the same. Just in a less graphically described way than her. I can’t blame her, because somehow he has only gotten more handsome over the last year.
“Isn’t he just so nice to look at?” she croons.
“Oh yes,” I reply without thinking, and she sighs happily.
Simon groans in disgust, shaking his head. I see him out of the corner of my eye playing with the lead in his pencil. He tries to take it out in one piece before putting it back in. Rinse and repeat.
I bite my lip and somehow tear my eyes away and to the paper sitting in front of me. I scribble my name across the top. Numbering my page, I write down the first ‘aha’ I have.
1. Renowned lawyer with his own firm at 28. Almost unheard of.
Tapping the pencil absently at my thigh, I return my attention to the front. Playing with the rings donning his hands, Harry continues with the story of how he came to be a lawyer. One I can’t say I’ve heard before. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he starts to walk again. Changing his focus from somebody in the front row, it suddenly floats up.
And lands on me.
Not only am I surprised, but so is he. The pencil between my fingers halts and altogether falls from my fingers. He stops mid sentence when his eyes lock with mine. My insides grow bubbly as a sparkle gleams in his eyes. I watch a grin unfold on his lips before he composes himself.
Clearing his throat, he asks, “I-I’m sorry, can somebody uh remind me what I was sayin’?”
Nervously, he combs a hand through his hair. Laughing, he thanks an eager girl in the front row when she reminds him. And soon enough, he’s back on track with a new nervousness to his voice, or excitement. I’m not sure which. And his eyes trail back to me after a few words, making a smile tickle at my lips.
Although hard, I look away and pretend to think of something to write. Feeling another pair of eyes on me, I look over and find Ruby’s hot on my cheek. I shrug at her jealous look and she just shakes her head. I laugh under my breath and she kicks me under the table.
I lose myself in Harry’s words for the rest of his talk, his maple syrupy voice like music to my ears.
He talks about starting his law firm with Myles.
Some of his favorite cases.
His first case.
His worst case.
His hardest case.
And then he goes on to answer questions. Ruby and I aren’t the only ones fawning over him, because most of the class is as well. Some girls are really flirting it up with Harry. He just relishes in the flattery, to no surprise. I try not to notice the few times he peeks at me when he looks for somebody to call on with a question.
“Why does he keep looking at you?” Ruby whispers to me as I write down another ‘aha.’ Some random takeaway from another story of his.
“How am I supposed to know?” I reply, twiddling with my pencil when I’m done. “Why don’t you ask him a question already? I can see the ants in your pants, Rube.”
“I don’t know, I think her question would be if he was single,” Simon jokes, garnering a few curse words from Ruby. I quietly laugh between their hushed argument.
“Well, ‘m gettin’ tha eye from Alcott, so I reckon that my time’s up with you lot. Thanks fer havin’ me an’ hopefully I wasn’t too boring t’ listen to,” Harry concludes at the front of the lecture hall.
I pretend I don’t hear Simon’s griping next to me. I can’t help but smile as I slide my backpack onto my shoulders.
“Not so fast, everybody. What do we say to Mr. Styles for speaking to our class today?” Professor Alcott pipes up. I join in on the class-wide thank you as I hand Ruby her pencil back.
“I bet you’ll be awake and ready for Wednesday lectures from now on,” she says, winking at me.
I roll my eyes with a grin as I start down the steps beside her. “Like you’re any better. I saw you both drooling from the corner of my eye,” Simon remarks.
“Maybe,” I say quietly, stuffing my hands into the pockets of my pullover quarter zip. The last syllable falls from my lips as my eyes pan over to find his head of dark curls.
Nearly at the uppermost row, my view wasn’t the best. As I near closer to him, his features sharpen and with the realization, my heart squeezes in my chest. Light stubble coats his dimpled cheeks as he smiles talking to a classmate of mine.
I’m only a few footsteps from the bottom now, following the slow line of people who are leaving. The angel and demon, for lack of better words, argue inside of my head. Should I go and say hi?
Yeah, why not?
No, why would you?
It would be rude if you didn’t.
It would be weird if you did.
But there are a handful of girls around him probably already flirting with him.
With an indecisive sigh, I clench my fists inside of my pockets. The two opposites inside of me clash, and I truly have no idea what to do. His card the other day was so kind and thoughtful. But I was a bitch the last time I saw him. I can’t believe it’ll be a year in two short months since I quit. Wow.
“I dunno why they’re bothering, it looks like he’s taken,” Simon snickers, earning a flick on the head from Ruby. “Don’t be a bitch just because I pointed out the truth. Can’t shoot the bloody messenger, Rube.”
I don’t intervene when Ruby chases after Simon to the door. Suddenly my feet stop around the corner from the stairs. Only a few more steps and he’d be out of my sight.
Again.
For who knows how long until next time.
I can’t take my eyes off of him. He really looks like he’s enjoying himself talking to law students. Up close, he really has grown more handsome over the last 11 months. I never thought that could be possible. Smiles crease his cheeks.And light up his eyes.
But when his left hand habitually goes to fix his quiff of curls, I see the gold ring Simon saw. He wore rings, but never that one. It’s like my heart is brought up from the bottom of the lake where it’s been, and takes another nose dive back down.
“Becky!” somebody calls for me. I blink and almost think it’s him. But when I look around for the culprit, I find Simon walking up to me.
I find it hard to squash the disappointment weighing inside of me. That it’s not Harry.
“Sorry, Si. W-what’d you say?” I reply, tearing my eyes away from Harry.
“Don’t look so sad he’s taken,” Si jokes quietly, putting an arm around me and squeezing my shoulder. I force a smile and walk to the door with him. “Wanna go get a coffee? Maybe that’ll cheer you up,” he suggests happily, his voice echoing in the hall to the door.
“Yeah sure,” I respond slowly, unsure of my words. I let him guide me out of the lecture hall and into the busy hallways.
Wow, Harry, you moved on from Amber that quick, huh? I think to myself with knitted brows and self-doubt. Swallowing, I try to push the nagging thought away. But I can’t, and I find myself barely able to carry on a conversation with Simon.
I thought seeing Harry in my lecture was one of the sweetest surprises. Instead, it feels like a happy dream that turned into a nightmare at the end.
#the assistant#pa harry#the assistant fan fic#harry styles the assistant#harry styles#harry styles au#lawyer au#harry styles lawyer#lawyer fan fic#assistant x lawyer#harry styles fanfiction#fine line#one direction#harry#harry fanfic#fanfiction#wattpad#story#writing#fan fic
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Bellamort for the ship meme
Thank you @knightessofwalpurgis for the ask and apologies for taking me a month to answer - March has been... quite the experience. But Bellamort exists to give us comfort, so let’s get crackin’!
who is more likely to hurt the other?
Voldemort can tear anyone apart with some well-chosen words (as we see Locket!Voldemort do to Ron), but he rarely uses those on Bella, because a. she rarely deserves to be humiliated like that, and b. he just wouldn’t do that to her.
What’s more likely, is that he hurts her inadvertently, since he may fail to understand certain emotional needs that Bella most people have - a touch, a kind word after success, casual conversation over a cup of tea. In addition to that, Bella, who is obsessed with him and the position she holds in his eyes, tends to overreact to those “omissions”, getting convinced he ‘never truly valued her’ and he’s going to ‘kick her out any day now’.
However, let us take a moment to note the day that Bella deeply hurt Voldemort: the night of her betrothal to Rodolphus, when Voldemort proposed marriage and Bella turned him down for reasons that, in retrospect, she finds ridiculous.
So in a way, you could say that of the two, Voldemort is the brokenhearted one, even if it’s Bella who cries herself to sleep from time to time.
who is emotionally stronger?
They’re both incredibly strong people.
Voldemort pulled himself out of the gutter, basically raised himself and became one of the most powerful and learned wizards ever.
Bella survived fucking Azkaban, which is code for severe depression in HP-land, so all I can do is salute her and ask for her secrets.
The answer is a little tricky, in the sense that Voldemort appears to be a psychopath, medically speaking, who are... resilient people emotionally, if you will. This means that an event that would have had a massive effect on a neurotypical person, say witnessing a murder or war, to him it’s very blunted or even irrelevant. This description is very vague and generalising, but it’s supported by a lot of evidence. In fact, psychopaths can’t really feel fear, because their amygdala is the size of a pea, so it’s not fair comparing his emotional strength to others. In fact, I’d add that since he’s not used to “negative emotions” like sadness and fear, if they happen, they’d be more devastating to him, because he’s never learnt to cope with them, like the rest of us do.
Bella obviously has her own emotional/psychiatric problems, but I don’t feel comfortable making guesses, since I’m not a psychiatrist and she’s no textbook description of any personality disorder I’ve heard. However, she got an interestng upbringing, that trained her to be a person of importance. So I’d say that even after Azkaban and with whatever issues she has, she can still hold her own in a very difficult emotional situation.
I realise I haven’t answered the question, because honestly Idk. Also, take with a grain of salt anything psychiatry-related I said, I’m no expert, merely done some research, which I’m regurgitating here.
who is physically stronger?
Naturally, Bella. She trains a lot, does ballet (which is fucking hardcore, let me tell you), enjoys physical activities and martial arts.
However, after Voldemort’s transformation, he’s got many of his physical attributes improved, like the cat-eyes that allow him to see in the dark and so on (been reading a lot of the Witcher series as of recent so there’s that too), so he’s deceptively strong and yes, eventually stronger than her.who is more likely to break a bone?
Bella, 100% XD She’s in battle all the time, and when taking part in Voldemort’s magical research (which is their day-job, world domination is a weekend hobby in case you haven’t noticed) her motto is ‘safety third’.
An interesting point tho. Psychopaths have no fear and low-impulse control if they don’t train themselves. Fear is useful, informs us of danger ahead, so I HC that young Tom/Voldemort broke almost every bone in his body at some point doing something really dangerous simply because he didnt realise it’s stupid - like, say, go down a fucking cliff with waves crushing at it. Now he’s learnt to control those impulses and polices himself when it comes to danger, so no more broken bones. who knows best what to say to upset the other?
They’re both excellent at judging characters and have tongues that sting. Bella will rarely truly dare upset Voldemort, but she does love torturing him a little with something silly and not-truly important, like refusing sex, or messing with his OCD by taking stuff from “their proper place”. She knows that there’s only few things that tick him off: his loss of power to an infant, death and the abandonment from his mother. And she’s not that sadistic to bring up that last one unless absolutely provoked.
Voldemort can be a tease as well, but he’s too mature and dignified for such childish behaviour most of the time. who is most likely to apologise first after an argument?
Bella apologises compulsively out of fear she’s lost him even for things that aren’t her fault, tho in her mind they might be. However, she’s stubborn too, so if it’s a petty argument she might not apologise at all. Shes a spoilt little rich girl after all ;)
Voldemort’s never apologised in his life and never shall say the words, but he will change his behaviour if he realises he’s been wrong, because it’s the rational thing to do- also Bella is supersexy when she’s angry, so he wants to fuck her and he needs to her to be accepting to that. who treats who’s wounds more often?
Voldemort treats Bella’s wounds more often by default, since she’s the one out in the battlefield more often, and also can be clumsy and absentminded. And very rarely *trigger alert* she might self-harm.
Voldemort not only gets hurt rarely, but he also views it demeaning to accept help, so he won’t even mention it if he’s hurt. Bella will find out by accident or because he’s in so much pain he can’t hide it anymore, and with scold him first, he’ll storm off, she’ll hunt him down, they’ll argue and finally she’ll heal his wounds (usually his back which hurts because he’s Tall^TM) and he’ll act like a literal cat during this, touch-starved as he is. who is in constant need of comfort?
Right after Azkaban Bella is in need of a lot of care and comfort, understandably. Her physical and emotional problems are their reality for many months after her escape, but the physical ones mend themselves relatively quickly. She’s forever changed emotionally, again understandably, but I wouldn’t say she’s in *constant* need of comfort. In an AU where they win, she’s perfectly functional as his right hand woman and partner, with only the occasional problem.
Voldemort needs to get through his tough, bald head that he deserves love and comfort like everyone else, but he’ll never get it, so, in the whole, it’s him I’d say. who gets more jealous?
Interesting question, because fandom’s given so many answers relating to those characters, especially since Bella is married. Starting with this piece of solid information, I’d hazard a guess that Voldemort doesn’t care that much that Bella also sleeps with her husband from time to time - maybe it even turns him on and strokes his ego that she doesnt get all she needs from her legitimate, pureblooded husband. How he’d react if she slept with a random bloke... probably badly; tho I cant think of a situation where that’d happen. My Bella at least, doesnt sleep around. She might tease with her sex, but she’s a well-bred lady after all, who does what is expected of her.
Voldemort, I HC, used to be a bit of a whoremonger in his youth; good looks, mummy issues and no emotional attachment are the ingredients for that particular potion. Also he might have also been overcompensating for the fact that he was unable to marry the only women he found worthy of him: his pureblooded classmates. So he’d show up with a different, gorgeous girl at parties, which drove child!Bella crazy with jealousy, since she was still out of the healthy sexual attraction part for him and never thought he’d notice her. She’d stalk him behind curtains and through keyholes, keep her ears on alert for when the adults talked about him etc. Poor thing was really tortured by it. But now that they’re adults and, well, in a relationship, she’s far too confident to think he’d seriously care for another woman; after all, half the time she’s not sure he truly cares about her, and she’s the person who’s been closest to him.
One thing I forgot to mention about Voldemort’s jealousy, or lack thereof, is that Bella has certain emotional needs that he cannot serve, and I’m not talking about tenderness, because to some degree he can give her that, and it’s not the same with her husband anyway. No, I mean that Bella is a sexual sadist, who gets direct sexual pleasure by hurting people. Voldemort on the other hand, is not a masochist. Not that when they have rough sex/BDSM sex he’s never in a sub position, but he’d never just sit there to be whipped or something, it just doesn’t turn him on, and that’s totally fine. So they may invite a girl (and very rarely a boy) to join them, so that Bella can get it out of her system if the war is slow/over. Don’t ask where these people end up, just don’t hang your coat in the second floor closet is all I’m saying. who’s most likely to walk out on the other?
Depends on the situation?
Bella would NEVER abandon Voldemort in battle or for the Cause. In a Muggle setting though, if he pissed her off she’d totally walk out of the restaurant :P
Voldemort would never walk out on Bella either, tho, would he? He’s devoted to her, plus he does feel like he owes her after Azkaban.
The only concept I can imagine relevant to this is Voldemort saying something in his anger that he doesnt exactly mean tho it holds some truth in it, that hurts Bella so deeply, that she leaves, both out of spite but also because she thinks it’s the best for him. In fact, I have a very specific HC for this which takes place in the afterlife, after they;re both killed in the battle for Hogwarts, but there’s no time for that here.
There’s also another thing, but it’d quite controversial. If you, like me, HC that Bella started training with Voldemort since she was a child, and entered a sexual and later romantic relationship with him while still underage, this means that she literally hasn’t been alone as an individual, ever. So there’s also the chance that she, after they’ve had a huge fight and he’s terrible with her, leaves so she can find who she is without him. *cue the tears*who will propose?
Voldemort did propose, on the night of Bella’s formal betrothal. Very rude and uncourteous of him, yes, but it had to be the last minute for him to realise his feelings, because he only has one (1) brain cell that works part-time on the Emotions Department of his brain. She turned him down, because she was young, immature, didnt realise how deep her own feelings were (she believed what her mother told her, that ‘all girls fall for Riddle, it’s an infatuation, it will pass’), wanted the power, fame, money and public adoration that her position as the Black Heir brought, not to mention that she was loyal to her family and terrified since Andromeda had just eloped with Ted. So she broke his heart then, even if neither realised it. But they did continue with their affair, because that’s how it happened in the olden days if you had money and space.
After the war is over, neither proposes. They talk about it as a given (Rodolphus has fucked off to study penguins in Antarctica) and only need to figure out the details: how public it will be, who’s invited, what titles the ceremony gives them and so on. who has the most difficult parents?
Spoiler alert: Voldemort’s an orphan!
Okay, so hypothetically speaking, had any of his parents survived and raised him one way or the other, they’d for sure be a handful. Tom Sr. is a posh bloke used to getting his own way and being considered special due to his status as a squire, so he’d be fucking pissed if he were introduced to a world where he’s not all the shit. Nonetheless, I’d hazard a guess that in the end he, Bella and her parents would get along well-enough; after all they’re the same sort of people.
Merope, on the other hand, is a whole other story. In the most sensible AU, where she survives giving birth and raises her son but they’re still poor and she’s got trouble with magic due to the trauma of Tom Sr. leaving her, I think she wouldn’t like Bella at all actually. Because Bella is all she ever wanted to be: beautiful, wealthy, well-bred and shows it, and, most importantly, emotionally strong. So she pesters Tom all the time about how Bella is not ‘feminine enough’ in her behaviour, too outspoken, too bitchy, not for ‘her boy’. Tom/Voldemort gives exactly one shit about her opinion and moves on.
In the canon universe, it’d be naive to say that Bella’s parents were into Tom, simply due to his blood status. In the longrun, however, I think they'd come to terms with it, and they remember how brilliant and ambitious he was in school, so when he becomes successful in life, whether in-universe as Voldemort, or Minister or whatever in an AU, they’re sort of okay with it. Idk if they hand over the Heir of Blacks title to Bella tho, their kids wouldn’t be pureblooded after all. who initiates hand-holding when they’re out in public?
No one. Not allowed. Not happening. Ever. It’s not their thing, anyway. Voldemort will offer her his arm, like a gentleman, tho. :)
who hogs the blankets?
Bella, especially after Azkaban. She sleeps with five blankets piled on top of her, has the fireplace going all year round and puts a warmth charm on the sheets. Voldemort doesn’t care. He experienced such cold temperatures in so little clothing as a child, that hot and cold make little impression on him; he even takes cold showers because it’s all the same to him. *sobs* who gets more sad?
Bella. She overthinks everything. Did she disappoint him today? Yesterday? Tomorrow? Will she ever be the person she was before prison? Why does Cissy wince every time she sees her? Should she have had children after all? These and all sorts of thoughts race through her mind all the time, torturing her to no end.
Interestingly enough, psychopaths in general dont get that sad, but Voldemort can be very... pensive. who is better at cheering the other up?
Bella has a wicked sense of humor that only Voldemort seems to find hilarious (comments from other people include ‘disturbing’, ‘scary’ and ‘morbid’), and even though he’s rarely sad, he can be very very serious and in need to relax his body and mind.
Still, Voldemort, the eternal student of human nature that he is, if he does notice that Bella is sad (which isn’t always because he’s... you know), knows exactly how to distract her, just like he can do with any other person. Just, in her case, it’s sincere. who’s the one that playfully slaps the other all the time after they make silly jokes?
No one ever hits anyone. Voldemort’s been beaten and whipped and flogged enough as a young boy that he wouldn’t do it to the only person he cares about in a non-sexy way, and Bella’s been raised to view such things as ‘Muggle animalistic violence’. She might bite him hard for fun, tho :Dwho is more streetwise?
This may come as a surprise to you because of my username, but Voldemort grew up on the streets in a Dickensian world. He knows all the tricks in the book; in fact he created many of them. Bella begged him to take her along in his travels incognito, and not on these formal things she attends with her family, and he did, so she’s learnt a lot, but she’s very much a pampered princess. who is more wise?
Hmmm... Hard to say. They have their areas of wisdom and their areas of not-having-a-fucking-clue. Bella, for example, understands emotions better than Voldemort, because she actually experiences them. Jk, jk, but you get what I mean. She’s also more knowledgeable in certain magical things, that, for example, not all prophecies have to be fulfilled and that there’s so much magic that it’s pointless to wish to acquire *everything*; had Voldemort listened to her more often, the books would have been very different.
Voldemort of course is much older and has more diverse life-experience. He’s also less impulsive in his older years than Bella; he can be the voice of rationality and reason if he’s not superobsessed with something; at which point Bella should remind him to take his meds, because they really do help with fixations. who’s the shyest?
Neither, in the strict sense of the meaning. They both know what they want and they’re not afraid to demand it. In the end, it’s Voldemort who’ll never say what he truly needs and feels, though, speaking about their everyday life together, it’d be Bella who’d rather have more affection from him but is too shy to ask. But yeah, Voldemort, not because he’s shy per se, but rather in deep hurt and denial. who boasts about the other more?
In the books it’s obvious that it’s Bella. However, Voldemort does this hilarious thing where he praises Bella in random conversation with other people without even noticing; like, he brings her up every ten seconds even if she’s barely relevant to the subject, so *shrugs* have your pick. who sits on who’s lap?
Nobody, because they’re both tall. Bella will straddle him even in a non sexual manner from time to time, and they often spend their evenings relaxing on the same sofa: Bella will put her legs on Voldemort’s lap and he strokes them absentmindedly (after all they’re superlong and soft and hot), and Voldemort, who refuses to nap in bed, might catch a nap with his head on her lap. The reason Bella doesn’t nap with her head on his lap is because he’s very thin and his femurs hurt her skull, when she’s got plenty of skirts and petticoats cushioning Voldemort. Finally, Bella often sleeps with her head on his chest, because his heart-beat, even tho abnormally slow, relaxes her panic attacks, after Azkaban that is. He will then stroke her hair compulsively - it’s a bit of a fixation of his.
Well,what a ride! Thanks again @knightessofwalpurgis for the ask, this was tremendous fun to write, especially after a very difficult month! And it did help put some of my thoughts on those evil babies in a row. Hope you found it entertaining! I get that those types of asks are usually made for monolectic answers, but yeah, explanations are better. If you made it to the end, dear reader, thank you very much for your time!
#bellamort#bellamort ask#knightessofwalpurgis#relationship meme#bellatrix lestrange#voldemort#lord voldemort#tom riddle#still can't write#but apparently i can do asks#so thats what we're doing today
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Tomorrow Never Came PT. 5
You’re over four decades into the past, and now you’re almost halfway through the year you had to prepare for the attack. Summer has come, and you begin to get into a groove with your routine, but when you step out of that routine for just a moment, something - or someone - finally comes to stop you in your tracks.
Read PT. 1 here | Read PT. 2 here | Read PT. 3 here | Read PT. 4 here
(a/n: I DIDNT HAVE TIME TO PROOFREAD DONT KILL ME anyways hi i’m opening requests again since i should have the rest of the main ones out of the way before the weekend is over)
July in London felt like it always did back in the future – did that sentence even make sense, you wondered? Not that your life was making sense anyways. It hadn’t since March, but at the same time, you’d never felt happier. You had a steady job, lovely roommates, and you were slowly figuring out how you were going to save your mother from a most undesirable future.
Anyways, July was in full swing, and the weather being up in the 70s to match the year had you in high spirits. Freddie and Roger were in high spirits too – they had finally played a show with Deacon as the bassist, and they’d raved about it for days afterwards. Suddenly, they were begging you to come see them play. They’d only played a few gigs here and there since you’d met them, and never with Deacon, so they desperately wanted you to see them in action.
You’d considered, of course. Although you’d gotten over the initial shock of being in cahoots with Queen, going and seeing them perform would certainly be a daunting check off of the old bucket list – after all, who else born after 1995 could say that they’d seen the original lineup of Queen play in some dingy, underground London pub? Hint – nobody. But at the same time, you worried. How would that affect the future of Queen? Would your presence make someone miss a note or forget the lyrics, inciting an argument that broke up the band before it even began? They were all testy fellows, for sure, and there was no telling what your presence alone could set off.
Roger, though, was incessant. And you couldn’t blame him – this band was his life, his dream, and he wanted to share it with you, one of his closest friends.
“It’s late tomorrow night, surely you can skive off work early?” Roger complained, tossing a fry into his mouth as you rolled your eyes. You’d explained this to him a hundred times over, and honestly, you were beginning to get tired of it. He batted his eyelashes, purposely accentuating the alluring blue of his eyes as he practically stared you down. “I mean, this is the first day you’ve had off in weeks.”
“Rog, I’m the only closing person out front tomorrow night. I’m afraid I can’t.” Pouting, he looked down to his plate again and let his shoulders sag a bit. He was awfully melodramatic today, and you couldn’t help but laugh and shake your head. “Nuh-uh, no amount of crying like a baby is going to make me lose my only job. I’ve got to pay rent, you know?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, throwing a burnt crisp of a fry at you and giving you the stink eye as he continued to eat. He was seated across from you in a cracked vinyl-upholstered booth at some burger joint you’d heard him mention once or twice. It was a bit out of the way for you, so you’d never stopped by, but he’d insisted on it tonight – Freddie was out with Mary and you didn’t want to cook tonight. “I swear, you work every day. Don’t you ever want a break, love? Your feet have got to be killing you.”
He was right on that, your feet did ache like no other nowadays. You’d tried switching up shoes to make it better, but nothing could combat the hard concrete that was underneath the tile of that café. The wince that contorted your face when he said that answered for you, and a knowing smirk graced his lips as he crossed his arms and leaned forward on the table, arching a blond eyebrow in challenge. “That’s not the point, Rog,” you dismissed, a warning tone to your voice as you picked at your fries, your stomach starting to feel a bit full.
“I think it is,” he replied in a sing-song voice, lifting his nose at you for a moment before laughing. “Come on, Y/N, one night won’t kill you! Ask that greasy bloke that’s always giving you one-liners to cover. He’d do it for the chance to breathe your air again.”
It was tempting, and you hated how right he was today. He was making good point after good point, and you were quickly running out of defenses to avoid what you were probably going to do anyways. Looking around, you tried to stall, and you scanned the restaurant for anything to help you. A family waiting for their food. A young brunette girl sitting at the counter 10 feet away from you, talking with the chef. A salt-and-pepper-haired man, older looking, sitting a booth or two behind Roger and reading a newspaper. Nothing. Sighing in defeat, you reached for your napkin and wiped off your hands as you grumbled, “I suppose I could do that. He’s in tonight, anyways.”
Cheering, Roger grabbed his napkin as well and wiped at his face so quickly he almost knocked his hat off, his big doe eyes alight with excitement as he tossed enough money to cover the tab down on the table. He scooted out of the booth, almost crowding you in his eagerness to go over to the café. “Come on, I want to hear what the oily old chap has to say today. Maybe I can learn something from him.”
“You’re something else, Roger,” you laughed, rising out of the booth and grabbing your purse before pulling it over your shoulder. “And don’t even think about taking notes from him. He’s a disgusting pervert and you’d get slapped in an instant if you ever tried to use any of his lines.”
“They work so well on you! After all, you do have his schedule memorized,” he teased, poking at your side in fun as the two of you exited the burger place, Roger holding the door open for you before following you out onto the sidewalk. You gave him a warning look, and he whined as he fell into step with you, heading down the sidewalk together. “You know I’m joking, don’t be such a prude. I’m funny and you know it, admit it!” Throwing an arm over your shoulder, he reached up with his other hand to mess up your hair, receiving a gentle smack on the wrist for it.
“You’re such an arse sometimes, truly!” you laughed, trying to fix your hair in vain before just giving up and letting it blow back into place from the soft breeze that filtered around the corners of buildings. Stepping out into the street, you two looked like a regular couple to the untrained eye, especially when you wrapped an arm around his waist, clinging on to the white button up/suspender duo he had on. His arm was casually dangling over your shoulder, holding you to his side and bumping hips with you as you both walked. And though Roger’s scrawny figure wasn’t an imposing sort, you did feel like he offered you some blanket of security that way – you felt safe, impossibly safe, in his arms, and that scared you.
This part of the city was a bit unfamiliar to you, but you’d heard your mom mention it once or twice, and you suddenly felt a pang of sadness in your heart as you missed her dearly. You missed her smile, the way her eyes nearly closed when she did so, and the way she said your name – it was relaxing, and you hadn’t heard it in so long. And that laugh, when you said something really outrageous, the way it twinkled – God, it made every second here worth it. You loved your mom dearly, and if this was the way to bring her back, then you were determined to succeed.
Lost in your own thoughts, you felt as if you were in a daze as Roger led you down an unfamiliar street, lined with carts touting fruit and other goods for sale. An array of smells battered at your nostrils, overwhelming you with stimulation as you glanced around, taking in the sight and feeling a significant sort of loss at the fact that something like this was so rare in the 21st century.
And that’s when you heard it. Her voice, followed by that unmistakable laugh. You thought you were imagining it at first, but it was so present, so real, that you found yourself clutching on to Roger for dear life as your head whipped around, searching for the source of the sound desperately.
You found her. There she was, chatting away with a vendor who was talking her up and trying to convince her to buy just one more peach for the road. She was laughing at the flirty smiles being sent her way, her smile the same as ever, just framed by a younger, less troubled face. Roger noticed your frantic change of demeanor, and he looked down at you with a curious expression on his face. However, you gave him no time to ask questions as you ducked down, practically forcing him into the nearest alleyway and using him as a human shield when she turned away from the vendor, heading straight for where you just were. Peeking around him, you watched as your mom wandered off, vibrant, glowing, and so unbothered by life. Troubling, how the years had changed her.
Roger stood still, baffled by your behavior in the last 30 seconds but patiently waiting for an explanation as kept his arm around your shoulder. You’d turned his back to the street, so now he was leaned against the back wall of a building and mostly shielding you from view. You held him stationary with a firm grip on his arm that was leaned against the wall, your other hand still grasping his shirt like it was your lifeline.
Realizing how tightly you were holding on to him, you felt your cheeks burning as you pulled your hand away, mumbling softly. “Sorry. Er, thought I saw an ex out there. Didn’t want to see them.”
“Oh?” Roger said, suddenly interested when you’d brought an ex into the equation. “You should have told me! I could have given ‘em a serious case of jealousy, signed with a big old smooch from ol’ Roger Taylor himself.” The smirk on his lips was undying, and you fought off a smile as you rolled your eyes playfully, heading back out to the street with him now that it was a bit safer.
“Talking about yourself in the third person is weird, you know?” you pointed out, and Roger dismissed the suggestion with a wave and a scoff. “Plus, you’ve got a lot of nerve thinking that I wouldn’t smack you silly for kissing me out of nowhere.”
“That’s what they all say,” he teased, and you groaned in mock disgust as you started to head down the sidewalk with him again, heading back towards the café
The next night, the pub was noisy, as expected, and the crowd clamored with anticipation as the time for the boys to play grew closer. You’d given Roger and Freddie good luck hugs, and then headed back out to grab yourself a drink before the show started. Settling for a pale lager, you found a seat at the bar that was close enough to the stage that you had a good view of all of them, even if it was from a side angle. Turning around, you leaned back against the bar as you took a drink of the beer, observing the makeshift stage. Roger’s drums were already set up, ready to go, and some small amps littered the space, not looking completely ordered, but you knew that it wouldn’t matter anyways.
After you had a good portion of your beer gone, you saw Roger take the stage, his golden blonde hair flying over his shoulders as he quickly mounted the throne, sending a quick side glance to you and grinning before nodding as the rest of the boys took the stage. With hardly any introduction at all, they were off.
Of course, they didn’t need an introduction. Half of this crowd was here specifically for them, and the other half had most likely heard about them at some point tonight. Everyone was buzzing about Queen, the outrageous garage band that just came out with a new lineup and stole the show with their brilliant recorded demo and scarcely-muted flamboyance.
The buzz was all for a good reason. Queen’s stage presence was incredible, and they played like professionals on stage at Wembley, not four scrappy young guys who fought over who got the last of the crisps. They were a whole, a cohesive unit that played as one, and you found yourself so entranced by their work that you hardly noticed the man who’d seated himself next to you, ordering two lagers.
“Would you like another drink?” he asked, snapping you out of your focus and drawing your attention to him. The dim light made it hard to tell, but you felt like you’d met him before, and you squinted a bit before glancing at the bartender as he sat two beers on the bar. “It’s on me.”
“Thank you, you didn’t have to.” You smiled warmly, briefly forgetting about the boys as you finished off your first beer and took the one offered to you. If you hadn’t seen the bartender pour the drinks, you may very well have told this man to fuck off, but you were in a good mood, having had the day to relax and take your mind off work. So, you decided to entertain whatever was about to happen. From what you could see, he wasn’t bad looking, and even if it was terrible of you, you wouldn’t mind screwing up the past a bit in order to get laid by some random person who’d probably never have an effect on your future. After all, it had been four months, and you had needs just like everyone else. “What’s your name?”
“My name?” he asked, turning a bit towards you as he pursed his lips. “My name is Anthony. Yours?”
“Y/N.” You held out your hand, offering it for a quick shake, and he took it gently, his calloused one dwarfing yours as you continued to smile at him. “You here for the band?”
“Oh, no,” he chuckled, leaning an elbow on the bar as he glanced at the boys, who were playing one of their last songs. “I had to come here for different reasons.”
“So mysterious,” you laughed, leaning forward a bit and also resting on the bar as you sipped your drink. “What reasons, may I ask?”
He gave you a queer look, and then looked back at the band, his eyes settling on Roger for a moment. Following his line of sight, you also found yourself staring at Roger, admiring the energy he put into his performance – he was truly master of that drumset. Turning back to you, the man suddenly looked worried, age lining his face as he spoke just loud enough for you to hear. “You don’t belong here.”
“What?” You were taken aback, thoroughly confused by what he’d just suggested. Here you were, planning on going home with the man, and suddenly he was accusing you of being in the wrong place. Last you checked, this was the bar Queen was playing at. You assumed you had the address right, considering the boys were literally on stage right now.
“You don’t belong here! Get the hell out of here, go home.”
“W-what are you talking about?” you stuttered back, a bit nervous now and backing away as you sat the beer down on the bar. He was scaring you, his voice and words far too sure and serious to just be some random drunk convincing you to shag him somewhere else.
“Go back while you still have time. You can’t keep this up,” he demanded. When you remained stunned into silence, he sat his drink down as well and tugged you off the barstool with a firm grip on your arm, dragging you to the back corridor as the boy’s set ended. You looked back at Freddie and saw that he’d just caught the tail end of whatever you were doing, but he misinterpreted it wildly and gave you an encouraging thumbs up as you disappeared around the corner. When you were out of earshot of pretty much anyone, he finally stopped and made you face him.
“What’s your fucking major malfunction?” you spit, shrugging his hand off and stepping away from him. You got a chance to look at him in the slightly brighter light, and realized it was the man from the restaurant yesterday. In fact, you realized you’d spotted him around often in the past few months, at the café, on the street, in your building. “Are you following me, you creep? I ought to-”
“Y/N, you’re not supposed to be here, you and I know it!” he interrupted, cutting you off with a firm voice. “Go back to your time. You’ve put everyone in danger here.”
Stunned, you couldn’t think of any response as you tried to grapple with the fact that there was a middle-aged man telling you to go back to the 21st century, that you didn’t belong here and you were fucking up royally by being here. “Who even are you?” you asked apprehensively, not sure what in the hell to think of this man. “What do you want from me?”
“My name isn’t Anthony. It’s Weston, and I’m from the future too. I know you went through that fucking closet, and you need to go back through it right now, before you put everyone you love in danger, including those guys.”
Your mind was reeling, thinking of hundreds of questions per second as you tried to get a handle on the situation. This man, Weston, whatever his name was, was from the future, and he knew you. He knew that you were putting people in danger, and he knew about the closet. “How do you know this? How can I even trust you?”
“That man – the singer – Freddie’s dead,” he countered quickly. “That proof enough?”
“Everyone dies,” you pointed out, his eyebrows furrowing as you called out his weak point.
“Fine. Freddie died of pneumonia in ’91, when I was a teenager. You weren’t even a fucking thought yet. Happy?” You were quiet, and he took that as a sign to continue, sounding more and more frantic as the moments went on. “Now you really need to go home, back to whatever you’re trying to fix, because it can’t be fixed. Stop while you’re ahead. Reset. Forget this ever existed, and go live a normal life.”
What was he saying? Could you really be doing this for nothing? Why was he telling you these things, and how did he know about your plans? Your mind was a raging torrent, flooded with all kinds of anxieties that had been building up since that dreary day in March when you first met Roger and Freddie. But how much could this man really know? You were literally on the path to save your mother from something horrid, and how could he tell you to pass on that?
“You’re mental if you think I’m not going to fix things by doing what I’m doing,” you scoffed finally, pushing him away as you began to walk away from him, done with the baffling conversation. You had already made a mental decision to ignore his demands, to write him off as a phony. But he caught up with you, hissing a warning in your ear as he failed to make you stop.
“You keep going and you’re going to destroy them! Your family, Roger, Freddie, everyone! They’re all going to come crumbling down with your plans if you keep trying to mess with the past like this!”
But you were gone before he could keep going, flipping him off with a steady hand as you made your way back through the bar. However, you couldn’t ignore the heavy weight settling in the bottom of your stomach, making you drag a bit as you went out the front and around the side of the building to where the boys were loading up their equipment.
“There she is! God, you look flushed,” Freddie pointed out, smiling mischievously as he took your face in his hands. He looked you over for a second before chuckling. “Was he that bad?”
“Who?” you asked, already blanking on what he was talking about. Sometimes, Freddie’s conversations were so one-sided you couldn’t even begin to understand them.
“That man!” he laughed, letting go of you before wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you towards the van. “You two were quick, he must have been a wham-bam-thank you ma’am kind of chap. You know, I never pegged you as one to like older men, but I guess I can kind of see where he was cute. Was he big?”
“God, Freddie, shut up,” Roger groaned, lugging his kick drum from the sidewalk to the back of the van as he shot the two of you an annoyed look. Putting the drum in the van, he continued to look slightly miffed as he loaded up his set, carefully packing everything away so it wouldn’t get damaged, but he looked as though he was bothered, somehow. Something was off with him, and you couldn’t even begin to tell what it was, but you knew you had to set the record straight.
“We didn’t do anything,” you corrected Freddie. “He tried to get me to go home… with him. But I said no.”
“Shame,” Freddie pouted, letting go of you before glancing to Roger, who was just out of earshot. “I was really enjoying driving him crazy. Oh well.”
“What?” you asked, your cheeks heating up as Freddie shrugged and walked off towards Roger, stopping him with a gentle hand on the arm and whispering something to him. A considerable amount of annoyance erased from Roger’s face, but he feigned apathy as he shrugged, walking towards the van again, where you were awkwardly standing, not sure what to do with yourself. What had just went on in the bar had rattled you a bit, and Roger noticed that you were a bit off as he packed away his cymbal.
“Look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he remarked, stopping in front of you and pulling out a pack of smokes before offering one to you. Usually, you’d abstain, but you accepted the offer right now, needing an oral fixation to take your mind off of everything. Holding out his lighter, you perched the cigarette between your lips and leaned forward towards him, looking up to watch the dim light of the lighter’s flame reflecting on his eyes, which were fixated on the end of your cigarette. His free hand was cupped around the flame, keeping it from blowing out as you inhaled, lighting up the end and nodding to him in thanks as he looked up to meet your gaze.
After staring for a moment, he nodded back and looked down, putting a cigarette between his teeth and lighting it as well, then nodding towards the van. Both of you perched in the back as the other three headed inside for a drink, leaving you two behind in the dark alleyway, your only company each other and probably some disgustingly huge rats by the trash cans. This was uncharacteristic for the both of you. Usually, you would talk each other’s ears off, never running out of things to say. But something was off. You were scared. Roger was unaware. The conflicting emotions played off of each other just like the boys did on stage, mutually working to create a jarring silence that scared the living hell out of you.
“You guys were fantastic.” You finally spoke, taking a drag and holding the smoke for a moment before exhaling slowly. Looking over, you saw Roger leaned against the side of the van, facing you, and you mimicked his position, facing him and pressing your feet up against his as you watched him quietly. “Really smashed it up there.”
“Thank you, love,” he replied, giving you a small smile before he took a drag, closing his eyes and letting his head rest back against the plastic covering on the inside of the van. “I’m just happy you finally came out to one of our shows. It’s about time.”
“I should have dropped by one a lot sooner,” you admitted, taking another drag and exhaling it quicker this time, still observing him quietly. He was a bit sweaty from the show, his shirt partially unbuttoned and revealing more of his slender, scrawny build that you still couldn’t believe belonged to one of the greatest rock drummers of the century. Wavy golden blond hair fell over his shoulders, a bit damp with sweat, but still smooth and shiny under the moonlight. You were momentarily distracted by a couple passing by the van, laughing, and you redirected your focus to them, not wanting to lose yourself in Roger’s good looks for the thousandth time. Or maybe you did. It would be something to keep your mind off of Weston, after all.
“Did we look good up there?” Roger asked, distracting you and pulling your focus back to him as he opened his eyes, staring across the open space at you. His eyes were analytical, searching your face for a reaction as we spoke. “I’d like to think that I’m the show-stealer, but that’s kind of hard when you’ve got a big ass cymbal directly in front of your face. Really kills my vibe.”
You laughed, looking back out to the sidewalk and shaking your head as you conjured up the image of them on stage again, chewing on your lip. “I don’t know, I kind of thought Brian’s hair was hard to miss. And Deacon? He’s bound to be the show-stealer in general. Girls dig that wholesome, innocent thing he’s got going on.”
“What in the hell!” Roger complained, laughing with you as he kicked your foot gently. “He’s not an innocent little boy, he’s literally the saltiest man I’ve met on this our side of the Earth and he’s got you believing he’s an angel. God, what’s a handsome, charming guy like Roger Taylor got to do to get a little recognition and praise around here?”
“You’re speaking in the third person again,” you reminded him, and he groaned before flipping you off, taking another drag.
“Bugger off, you Deacon-lover. I ought to kick you out of our flat for that one, that hurts.” You snickered as he put on a faux upset look, avoiding your gaze so he wouldn’t laugh. After a moment, he had to continue. “You know what? Deacon does have good hair. I’ll give him that. But what else does he have that I don’t? I have redeeming qualities, right? Right?”
You were quiet, letting him simmer as he caught your gaze again, waiting impatiently. When you didn’t answer, he huffed and started crawling out of the van, tossing his cigarette on the ground and stomping it out as he stood up. “No, Roger, I’m taking the piss!” you laughed, moving to dangle your legs over the edge of the van and also put out the butt of your cig as he stood half-turned from you, unsure whether to trust you or not. “I’m serious now, promise.”
Sighing, he turned back around and leaned against the door that hung open in front of you. It creaked a bit as he leaned on it, but it didn’t seem to alarm him, so you dismissed your worries about the old clunker genuinely falling apart. The veins in his arms were more prominent as he crossed his arms, giving you a look that you were convinced was actually, truly upset. He must have been a bit more sore about the subject than you’d expected which baffled you. Roger was a gorgeous man, and had plenty of attention from women, so the fact that he was convinced that Deacon was more of a ladies man than him was almost laughable.
“I’m asking this seriously, friend to friend – why do girls like Deacon so much more?” His eyes searched your face as he spoke, desperate to find a reaction to hang on to, and you realized he was as serious as he could get.
Plus, he didn’t mind getting to stare at you - he enjoyed it more than he’d like to admit, mainly because Freddie would kick his ass if he admitted it. Unbeknownst to you, they’d made an agreement on the day you moved in that you were off limits for him, but every day, you made the rule harder and harder to abide by, and Freddie was obviously no help either.
“It’s definitely mainly the shyness,” you admitted, swinging your legs back and forth as you looked up at up, glad to have a petty distraction from the man named Weston. “Girls love a tough egg to crack. And Deacon’s never around our place much at all. He’s definitely far more mysterious than you-“ you noticed Roger started to look irritated, so you backtracked a bit, “-which isn’t a bad thing! Some people are just quiet, like him. So girls see that and think, ‘Wow, a soft guy? Wonder if I can-“
“What are you talking about?” You heard Deacon’s voice around the corner of the van, and he emerged moments later, joining the two of you as you grinned up at him, Roger thoroughly annoyed at this development.
“Hey, John!” you greeted warmly, patting the spot next to you and trying not to laugh as Roger rolled his eyes, grumbling. “We were just talking about you, actually.”
“Oh,” John mumbled, looking a tiny bit nervous as he sat in the back of the van with you, sitting a respectable distance away and offering you a cigarette. You looked at Roger with a knowing look, which set him off when you gladly accepted, thanking him.
“Piss off! I literally just offered you a ciggy and Deacon gets all smiles for doing the same thing? God, women make me sick sometimes,” Roger ranted, his voice high-pitched and defensive as he kicked a small rock, grumbling to himself as he stalked off towards the pub’s side door, leaving you with Deacon.
“What did I do?” Deacon asked once Roger had gone, looking at you with a baffled expression. You looked over at the fresh-faced 19 year old, laughing and reaching over to wrap your arm around him, patting his head and holding him in a side hug for a moment.
“Don’t worry, you did genuinely nothing. That’s more than enough to set off Rog. Gotta love him.”
PT. 1 PT. 2 PT. 3 PT. 4
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Reverse blind date Joger where someone deliberately stands Roger up to teach him a lesson because he is such a player and John watching from the bar realises he is upset
oooooh ok. ok. ok
so roger is like. he’s got a rep around campus? it’s not necessarily a bad one per say, but. he’s pretty and he’s confident and yeah, he dates a lot. bc roger is a secret romantic tbh ok
not like freddie’s a romantic though. like freddie wants to fall in love and then never ever ever break up with the person he falls in love with because he wants to buy a house and forty cats with them. like freddie genuinely believes he’s incomplete without someone to love and be loved by in return which roger thinks is Super Unhealthy
so roger’s not romantic like that. roger just…. enjoys the excitement of first date? getting to know someone, letting them get to know you, enjoying those first flushes of could-be-love. roger even somewhat likes when things start to fall apart bc there’s beauty in that too. there’s something beautiful in being able to recognise that you’re not right for another.
so he dates a lot. which, again, isn’t a bad thing. he doesn’t date for the sake of dating? he just. if there’s someone he finds interesting or attractive or funny? he’ll ask them out.
(this is how he met brian who awkwardly agreed and then blurted out half way through dinner that he was straight, he just didn’t know how to say no. they stay for the whole meal and end up somehow being like… best friends by the end of it.)
(a lot of roger’s friends are people he’s dated in the past, actually)
but yanno for every sort of ex that you’re on good terms with there’s gonna be someone you’re. decidedly not. and ok, rog will be the first? (maybe second actually, freddie will generally be the first) to admit that he’s sometimes not the most….. tactful at breaking off some of the more casual dating he does
like he doesnt ghost on actual relationships but there’s…. there’s definitely some ghosting that’s gone down in the past. some very early cases where he wasnt very clear on the non-exclusive nature of the dating???
he was young(er) and stupid okay he has like. a comprehensive set of rules now (a. establish that dates are not exclusive unless explicitly discussed, as all major relationship developments should be. b. no fucking the people you date unless you’re interested in an Actual Relationship bc it blurs lines!!!!! it confuses ppl!!!!!! c. if someone has a rep as a clinger listen to that reputation instead of their insightful analysis in class. the reputation precedes interesting dinner conversation. every. time.)
(brian is like???? have u heard YOUR reputation???? and roger is like well yeah but. no one calls me clingy, do they? which brian has to concede that, no, they decidedly do not.)
BUT the important thing to note here is that roger dates a lot of people because he genuinely enjoys dating people, he enjoys getting to know people. he asks out people who he finds interesting for some reason or another. he’s not offended when people say no, like. that’s fine.
but yeah. he gets stood up.
which? it’s like. the first time it’s ever happened. and it’s embarrassing. like, if they weren’t interested he would have preferred they just said. but it’s fine? like. he’ll just. eat on his own. that’s fine, he’s not too bothered though he does wish that they’d like. messaged him to let him know they were standing him up so he could have ordered earlier instead of waiting half an hour
but then they Do message him. a catty message along the lines of “now you know how it feels to be let down. maybe you’ll think before you do it to someone else again” and That upsets him because… he’s never stood anyone up???? would never intentionally leave someone waiting????? and he’s Grown Up since his first year of uni where he ghosted people like. he’s really upfront nowadays but he just sort of. starts spiralling a little bit sat at the table gulping down red wine like???? fuck???????
a fun mix of anger that this was clearly something this person PLANNED and also anxiety that maybe he’s been doing this to people this whole time and he just never noticed???? he’s an Awful Person and he just. didn’t know.
(which like. the sheer amount of his ex-dates, ex-fucks, and straight up exes that are still friends with him sort of implies that this is not the case? one of his exes is getting married in six months and he’s one of the groomsmen somehow like.)
and JOHN is sitting at the bar. like he’s waiting for his roommate to finish her shift so they can head home together but her shift’s been extended so he’s just. hanging out. eating complimentary bar nuts and being slipped sneaky beers by the on floor manager. and he’d noticed roger walk in, roger had ta’d one of his classes a year or so back and he knows his rep, and he’d sort of been looking forward to watching The Master At Work
like. he was gonna take notes so that he and ronnie (roommate, obvs) could laugh about it when they got home
(roger totally asked ronnie out once. she didn’t even answer, just walked away. she was annoyed at how charming the sound of him laughing as she did so was. she sort of hates him that “he’s never done anything to me and everyone i know who knows him says he’s a nice bloke BUT I REFUSE TO BELIEVE IT” kind of way)
but uh. yeah. he’s been stood up.
and john’s like….. damn. like, he wouldn’t even stand roger taylor up. he’s always been kind of glad that roger’s never asked him out, and never will bc…. he’s p boring and not like ronnie or brian or anyone else roger’s dated, bc he knows he’d say yes and then ronnie would never let him live it down. not ever.
and like he seems to be rolling with it? he orders himself a bottle of wine and an appetiser which has john like Damn the man be RICH
(the man be decidedly NOT rich and is definitely not going to be able to pay for the bus for the next week now he’s spending his “extra” money on bottles of wine rather than the glass or two he had planned to buy. but whatever, he can walk it. not to mention splurging on the bread platter instead of the bruschetta. he’s been stood up, okay??? if there was ever a time to eat All Of The Carbs and wash it down with two bottles of wine, this would be it)
and then after like one glass? of wine? he just seems to sort of curl in on himself???? and he seems genuinely upset???? like he’s tapping sort of frantically on his phone and he didnt even say thank you to the waiter who brought over his Bread Palooza and john doesnt know him well but. he never seemed the kind of guy who wouldnt thank wait staff okay?????
and before he can even stop himself he’s trailing over there, bar nuts in hand, and awkwardly standing next to the table silently.
and roger is like distractedly not even looking up from stuffing bread into his mouth and texting freddie who isn’t responding which means, he guesses, that he didn’t get stood up on his date tonight. bully for him. so roger’s like yeah thanks mate not ready to order my main yet.
and john’s like…. uh. ok. and just thrusts the bar nuts he’s had in his hand for like. ten minutes under his nose like you look sad, do you want a nut?
and roger looks up and just sort of blinks at him for a long moment before bursting out laughing like yes yes i would like a nut, thanks, john
which has john flustered bc a) he’s a MORON oh my god “do you want a nut”??????? what is he????? he wants to DIE and also b) roger. remembers his name?????????
so john stammers out an apology, explains he’s waiting for ronnie (”ronnie…. oh, uh, you probably don’t remember who she is, she’s-” – “your roommate, right? i forgot she was a waitress here, actually. how is she?” – “….. she’s good. sorry, how do you know she’s my roommate?”)
which leads to roger inviting him to sit down as a family of four tries to move past him, but can’t because he’s making a bottleneck in the aisle
so john. sits. bar nuts still in hand.
(knees weak, hands sweaty, restaurant’s bar nuts. would the real slim shady please stand up?)
and roger’s just hella casual like “yeah just got stood up bc im an awful person, how u been”
and john’s like uh technically i asked for none of that information
and the waiter comes and interrupts as roger sort of just blinks at him bc john is Not The Best at unplanned social interaction. like john approached him??? but ok. and the waiter is like um? hi john? given up on waiting for ronnie to finish?
as roger slam dunks his last glass of wine
and john is sort of like ohw ell. this guy used to be my ta and he looked sad because he’s been stood u- oh my god, im so sorry
and roger is just. you know what? this has been fun. i’ve really enjoyed the multiple levels of abject humiliation that i have endured tonight but i think i’m going to cut it short and just chucks thirty quid on the table like thanks (to the waiter) and good luck with the, uh, engineering? degree, i think? (to john)
who is bewildered bc how the fuck does he remember what degree im doing from the round of fucking ice breakers we did in the first tutorial of a class i took LAST YEAR
(roger’s party trick is remembering like. everything about ppl. you know in that way that really popular people have where somehow they can remember that your second cousin twice removed got married three years back, despite not seeing you since a month before the wedding, and they’re asking how it was using the NAMES of the bride and groom (who. they’ve never met) and you’re like??????? i fuckin forgot the grooms name what the FUCK. i hate these people with a passion. nice people? the worst. john feels much the same as i do)
and before he can even say anything roger has just…. slunk off into the night. leaving him with the waiter who is quite happy about the ten pound tip, and a hand full of bar nuts.
anyway roger goes home to cry at brian who is like. ur not a bad person, people just….. come to conclusions about ur behaviour based on the exaggerated experiences of others. but u also WERE sort of a dick when u were 18, but so is…. like every 18 year old so i honestly just wouldn’t torture myself ab it so neither should u
(a boldfaced LIE. this conversation leads brian to spend the entire night staring at his ceiling and reliving that one time he forgot to say thanks to the bus driver when he was 16. the bus driver hates him, he knows. also he used to have super unacknowledged misogynistic and racist unconscious biases that had been pounded into him by society and he’s still trying to rectify that and????? oh GOD)
and the next day, after he’s been convinced that he’s not the scum of the earth by brian, he rocks up outside of john’s class (which he abuses his access to the university database for the first and last time to find – he also tells john he did this immediately bc he’s like SO I PROBABLY CROSSED A BOUNDARY BUT IT WAS THIS OR STALK RONNIE AT WORK UNTIL SHE GAVE IN AND I THINK THAT WOMAN HATES ME i see her glaring all the time and idk why) and totally asks him out because…. well, he was interesting, wasn’t he?
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Happier (4) | T.H.
Summary: Y/N & Tom speak to each other for the first time in 3 weeks! Tom is in talks of doing a new movie. Lots of yelling, painful pictures being sent. Harrison and Harry go on a trip. Does Kate finally tell the truth to Y/N?
A/N: Hmmm....seems like Natalie & Matt is everyone’s favorite/hated suspects. More theories lets hear em!!!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
Sanctuary
Its a word often used to protect those within a troubling world. For some it’s a church, a home, sometimes a family and friend. For Y/N and Tom, sanctuaray was no where to be found. Three weeks it’s been since the world felt like it collapsed on Y/N and Tom. Three weeks of feeling left in a troubling space that they could not get out of...until now. As soon as they heard each other’s voices on the phone, it gave them a moment of relief, but only for a moment.
“So...how are you?” Tom asks nervously. He wanted to pick his words out carefully in hopes that he wouldn’t upset her.
“Im okay.” Y/N responds quietly as she looks back at her phone. No message yet, maybe she was in the clear and that gave her a small boost of confidence. It was going to be okay. “How about you?” She asks back, not really sure how to carry the conversation. In any case, how does one continue talking to an ex without making it awkward? Let alone how does one talk to someone without the fear of being blackmailed.
“Yeah Im great...really great.” Tom lies and chuckles nervously.
Y/N could tell by the tone of his voice how nervous he was. A habit she always found to be adorable for him. Y/N rolled her eyes with a slight smile before she questions him in a serious tone “Why did you call Tom?”
Tom closes his eyes, letting out a stressed sigh. “I miss you Y/N and I dont care what you say or what you said to me that night, but this wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“I miss you too but things happen beyond our control, Tom. Sometimes it just can’t be helped.” Y/N responds nonchalantely, staring at her phone again. No messages still.
“Thats a load of bullshit and you know it. We were supposed to get through anything. Fuck the rumors fuck everything! This isn’t like you Y/N!” Tom vents out every feeling and thought he had since she left. “You say you miss me but then what are we doing? Why are we continuing to hurt ourselves like this?”
Y/N shakes her head, knowing deep down the reason why but could never say. Not unless she wanted to ruin his dream. She could never. “It’s not that simple.” She croaked.
“We would have found a way to get through it, but you gave up so easily. I know for a fact my Y/N never gave up without a fight.”
Y/N looks again at her phone, and no messages were to be found. Maybe she could tell him, and they wouldnt know, but Y/N knew better. Somewhere out there there was someone always watching her every move. “I cant do this right now. Goodbye Tom.” Y/N hangs up as she continues to cry herself to sleep. So much for sanctuary.
Its the morning after, and as Y/N heads downstairs, she hears soft laughter and conversations echoing through the halls. For a second it almost sounded like Tom’s, and she hurried toward the room only to be disappointed. In the living room was Matt and Kate as they made small talk awaiting for Y/N’s arrival.
“Y/N! You’re awake!” Kate exclaims as she gets up from the seat to give her a hug. “Look who decided to drop by!”
Matt looked up at Y/N and gives her a shy smile and wave. He’s dressed in his navy blue LBI shirt and cream colored shorts. It was typical high school Matt...nothing had changed with him.
“Yes I see that....I’m sorry did we have plans and I forgot?” Y/N asked confused.
“No actually uh I invited him over because I knew you wanted to catch up with him after last week..so I pulled some strings.” Kate whispers.
“You..what?” Y/N asked annoyed, her eyes glaring and her brows furrowed. If there was one thing Y/N hated it was blind dates. She had stressed that over and over throughout the years that she hated it, especially with people she used to have romantic feelings for. The keyword..USED.
“Cmon Y/N. Remember this was the time for you to move on and forget. Plus you wouldn’t want to send him away after he came here just to see you!” Kate tries her best to sell it, she had to...there’s wasnt really a choice.
Y/N looked back at Matt and groaned silently to her best friend. “Fine I’ll go, but this is the last blind date you’re ever setting me up on AND you’re doing the dishes.” She emphasized as she got ready and grabbed her purse.
To say Y/N was surprised was an understatment. For sure, she had a feeling this was going to be awkward in so many ways like any other first dates, but this...wasn’t too bad. Though she realized it wasn’t a date this was just two old friends catching up from the past.
She learned a lot about him and how his younger brother Steven was working on becoming an engineer and how his little sister Emily was also grown up and working towards becoming a physical therapist. As for Matt, he was working in the city too as an accountant for a finance firm. While they continued to eat their lunch at Chelsea’s Market, she couldn’t help but make the comparisons.
Matt didn’t dress up like Tom, didnt make her laugh like Tom does, didnt make her blush the way Tom does, didnt smile like Tom, and when he touched her hand...she didnt feel the goosebumps the way Tom would. It was clear. He wasn’t Tom and could never be Tom.
The date came to a close, but Y/N hadn’t really gathered much from it since she was so focused on Tom. Every word Matt had said to her barely made it through. She’d be lying if she didnt say the date was okay but she’d be lying even more if she had said she’d enjoy it.
She looked into his blue eyes as he looked into hers. Matt tried to lean forward to give her a kiss, but Y/N moved away. She couldnt. Not when Tom was still present in her thoughts and her mind. “Im sorry...I just got out of a serious relationship and well —” Y/N whispers feeling guilt in her heart.
“No no. It’s fine really. Maybe I was too forward with this and I had no idea....I’m sorry.” Matt laughs, feeling heavily disappointed. “I’ll uhh I’ll see you around?” Y/N nods as she waves him goodbye.
The next day, Tom wakes up in his bed still praying that this whole phase was just a nightmare he’s still having trouble waking up from. Today was not that day. He got up and dressed appropiately knowing that today would be a meeting for his upcoming project. He had forgotten all about it especially with everything going on. When he arrived and entered the room with Harrison, Natalie also appeared sitting in one of the chairs with a smile and coffee on hand.
“Jesus you’re like everywhere now.” Harrison speaks out taking the seat across from her, while Tom takes the seat next to Harrison.
“Well I mean I do live with you guys temporarily until my flat gets fixed, and I did get cast in the same movie as Tom.” She laughs pointing out the obvious.
Tom looked up, his eye wide open and brows raised. He completely forgot the fact that she was going to be playing his love interest for the film. He tried to recall if he had told Y/N about it before and if maybe that’s why she was also mad. Maybe if he told her now, that would make her feel better? Tom was lost in his thoughts he didnt hear the other publicists in the room calling out to him. “Tom are you listening?”
Harrison quickly hits his best friend to wake him up from his thoughts. “Huh? Uh..no sorry.” Tom confesses, looking down at the table.
The publicists, both roll their eyes in annoyance. “We’re telling you that you need to do a lot of PR for this movie in order to boost the sales, and recoginition for both you and Natalie. This means..you’re going to have to pretend you’re in a relationship for some time.”
Tom and Harrison are now fully attentive and furious. “What?! Im not doing PR for this. That is low for the both of us. We shouldnt have to fake a relationship to get our work across” Tom yells out fury burning in his brown eyes.
“I know Tom, but no one watches it for the films nowadays it’s about the image, and right now we’re trying to help both of yours and Natalie’s. You’ve been looking liek a depressed bloke this past month and Natalie is trying to get some exposure in the business.” The publicists expalin. “Harrison, help us out here.”
“Look mate, Im just his assistant. It’s up to Tom if he wants to do this or not.” Harrison speaks out as he points to his best friend. He faces Tom and whispers, “You don’t have to do this mate, there are other projects out there.”
Tom nods, as he looks at the room of people. He closes his eyes, but all he could see was Y/N. Deep down, Tom knew he couldnt do this to her. “I..I don’t think I can do this.”
Natalie and the publicists’ eyes shot up in fear, unhappy with the response given. They knew there was only one thing they could do now. “Ah I understand. It’s because of a girl isn’t?” Natalie’s publicist speaks out. Tom looks at her and then down at the table, as he slowly nods his head. “Yes well Natalie’s told me all about her. Seems like a bright girl, but believe Tom she doesn’t love you as much as you thought she did.”
Tom’s eyes dart towards the publicist as his eyes continue to stare down in anger. He was angry, pissed off that they could ever make that assumption. “Fuck you! You don’t know anything!” His tone set in anger.
“Oh..but we do. See you think Y/N is remaining as faithful as you after a breakup, but why is she already out with another guy.” The publicist continues. She hands her phone to Tom as he swipes through the pictures of Y/N and Matt’s date. He saw Y/N smile at Matt, laugh with him, and touch his shoulder. Yet, the one picture that broke him the most was the one where Matt almost kissed Y/N. While Tom didn’t know the backstory, he could very well imagine how it went. Everything in him shattered, and his eyes started to well up.
“Mate..there’s gotta be an explanation for all of this. Y/N wouldn’t move on from you that quickly. You know her..she wouldn’t. This is all rubbish.” Harrison tried to reason to his heartbroken best friend. For once, he couldn’t rule out Natalie. She didn’t blackmail Y/N, someone else did.
“Fine. I’ll do it.” Tom grumbles as he gets up and walks away.
The world was quiet for the next two days, and it almost seemed like a break from all of it. Back in the New York, Y/N was minding her own business in the apartment with Kate, when she got a text message.
Unknown
Answer the next phone call. ❤️
Y/N’s phone rings and it’s Tom. Her hands are shaking, afraid of what was going to happen. “Y/N.” Tom says shortly, tone filled with disappointment.
“Tom” Y/N replies, her voice shaking.
This wasn’t sanctuary anymore. This was hell.
“Tell me it’s not true.” Tom speaks out, needing to hear the truth. “Did you go out with another guy?”
Y/N hesistated for a moment, unsure of what to say. She could either lie or tell the truth but it didnt matter at this point she was fucked either way. “Yes.” She breathes out. “But — ”
“It’s not what I think? Right?” His tone getting louder. “So it’s okay for you to judge me with Natalie, but not okay for me to judge you with some bloke you’re with?”
“Matt is my friend and I had no choice in that matter!” Y/N yells out, unhappy with how Tom was confronting her.
“Did he threaten you?”
Y/N hesitated for a moment, not him but someone was threatening her. “No.”
“Then you did have a choice.”
As soon as Y/N was going to speak, she got a new message. This time it was a picture from Unknown. One of Tom and Natalie getting cozy as they walked out of a building. Natalie was smiling and Tom had his arms wrapped around her shoulder. “Yeah, guess you made yours too with Natalie.”
Tom was in shock, did she know about the him and Natalie. “Y/N it’s not what you —”
“What? What I think? Yeah that makes two of us, but you want to make assumptions? Fine. You look like you already moved on yourself, but moving on with a girl you know I can’t stand...that’s an all time low for you.” Y/N hangs up and throws her phone across the room. Kate quickly comes to comfort her best friend.
“He...he moved on.” She sobbed quietly in Kate’s arms.
“I know...it’s going to be okay.” Kate whispers. Tears started to also fall on Kate’s eyes as she saw how much pain her best friend was in. She looked at her phone and quickly deleted the pictures she had taken of Y/N and Matt. “Im so sorry. I..have to tell you something.”
Y/N had fallen fast asleep, exhausted from crying. Just when Kate was ready to tell the truth...the door rang.
“Kate!” Harrison and Harry said spoke out in relief as they hugged her.
“Hey..what are you guys doing here?” She asked surprised but also relieved.
Harrison and Harry looked at each. “We want to help find out the truth.”
Taglist:
@hollanddolanfangirl @ifilosemyselfagain @hevjadams @averyfosterthoughts @fangirl-with-a-mission @drishtisikarwar @eridanuswave @ifntelyinspirit @trumpettay @astridcommings @parkershoco
#tom holland imagine#tom holland#tom holland x reader#peter parker#peter parker imagine#peter parker x reader
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