#and im sure harry does his part as well it's just easier to see it from her bc his job is the one that has him on the move

[hollowed-theory-hall]

thoughts on the hp epilogue? i kinda hate it and don't really consider it canon but im curious what your opinion is.

I'm not a fan, I usually disregard it.

There are things I don't like about the epilogue and things I don't mind. My dislikes range from the usual suspects like Harry naming his son "Albus Severus" to some deeper things actually.

This ended up a bit long, so I'll add a read more here.

So, I'm going to divide this into two parts, things written in the epilogue itself, and the supposedly canon future of the characters that bother me, but technically it's not in the books and therefore easier to ignore.

Thoughts about the epilogue itself:

I actually don't mind the character dynamics between the golden trio in the epilogue, I actually like some of them (like Ron's comments about his muggle driver's test). I like Neville becoming an Herbology professor as well.

Now, for what I don't like...

The existence of the epilogue as a whole bothers me. I don't feel like the books necessarily needed one, at least not one like this. I would've preferred it to end on a hopeful note of rebuilding and changing house stereotypes and muggleborn treatment so there won't be another Voldemort. Not just jump 19 years later to show a society that didn't change any of its inherent problems (more on that in the next section). But the fact Albus is concerned about being sorted into Slytherin shows me nothing changed. House prejudice is still rampant, and the wizarding world still gawks at Harry. Ron mentions casting spells in broad daylight on a muggle for his driver's exam, so clearly muggles and the Statue of Secrecy are still a joke. It's like, complete and utter stagnation.

I also, don't actually want to see the second generation in canon. This is one of those things I think is better off to leave for fan spaces. The whole epilogue feels like a weird fanfic, it doesn't feel like a part of the books. It's even written in a different POV, that same third-person omnipotent that appears in the first chapter of books 1, 4, and 6. It just feels outside the books, I don't know how else to put it. It took me out of the story instead of leaving me satisfied with the ending.

I made it no secret I hate Dumbledore, so having Harry name his son after the two men who made his life hell, as much if not more than the Dursleys, just... it's just really gross. I hate thinking about it even.

I'm not the biggest fan of the names Hugo and Rose either, but that's my personal opinion.

The final problem I have with the epilogue itself is more subjective than the others, but also the most glaring for me, and that's Harry and Ginny. I just really didn't like them as a couple for multiple reasons that I want to make a whole post about actually (it's in the drafts, I'm working on it). But I didn't like the fact Harry married Ginny, I just really don't like them together. It's more of a me thing, and I'm sure fans who ship them together don't mind this, hence why I saved it for last, but it does bother me quite a bit.

And it's not that I dislike all of JK's canon pairings. I like Ron and Hermione, Bill and Fleur, Remus and Tonks, James and Lily — I like all of them well enough. It's Harry and Ginny that I have a problem with.

Thoughts about things JK said about the characters' futures (cursed child and Pottermore and a bit of the epilogue):

I don't like the Harry's and Hermione's careers, I think they are a disservice to the characters.

I go into more detail below about why the Ministry of Magic really really sucks, but with how the final books (5 and afterward) are all about how bad and corrupt the ministry is, it sits really wrong for me than Harry and Hermione go to work there.

And like, with as much as Harry is good in DADA and likes it, I don't think he'll actually enjoy being an Auror. Being an auror is more than just fighting dark wizards. It's filling out paperwork, dealing with bureaucracy, and having to obey his boss. Harry can't obey anyone, I can't see him working well in a hierarchical system that supports authority, it's the antithesis of a character who could resist the imperious curse on his first try because of how much he hates obeying. Personally, I think Harry should've removed the DADA teacher's curse and stayed at Hogwarts. Like, I see him as a DADA professor who often joins Aurors as, like, a special advisor or something. It'll give him more freedom and I think he'll like working with students and staying at Hogwarts.

As for Hermione, yes, she had SPEW, and I definitely think she would spend her life trying to improve creature rights, I just can't really see her becoming a minister. Hermione isn't about strategy (that was Ron), and she isn't about leading (that was Harry). Hermione is compassionate, and I do, as I mentioned, expect her to work for creature rights and improve the state of muggleborns in their society. But she's also a need, who loves reading and studying, I kinda feel she'd be more at home as an unspeakable rather than the minister. She just isn't a politician. Think about them breaking into Gringotts where she literally couldn't lie to save their lives.

Ron, I kinda like the idea of him trying to be an Auror and leaving after two years (honestly, Harry could have done the same and I would've been more willing to accept it). And I don't mind the idea of him helping George at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, I understand why he'll want to do it. Both to get out of the limelight, to help George with Fred's loss that they all share (tbh I'm in denial about that), and the chill environment probably would be good for him after the war. I think Ron will have fun in such a profession, honestly. He's the only one where I can kinda see it.

I don't like the way the Wizarding World is portrayed in the epilogue as I mentioned above — like nothing changed.

In the final books in the series (but actually, we see hints of this in books 2 and 3 already) the ministry is repeatedly portrayed as corrupt and inherently discriminatory — both towards magical creatures and muggleborns.

I don't think I need to discuss House Elves and werewolves too much, as the books state the problems in the ministry’s treatment of these groups quite plainly. But what the books don't mention as much is how hard muggleborns who wish to stay in the Wizarding World have it.

While there are private professions like shop owners, broom makers, Quidditch players, authors, and such, most jobs in the Wizarding World are in the ministry. And you can't get a job in the ministry unless you have connections in the ministry. They run on nepotism and who-knows-who and not merit. This places all muggleborns, even ones like Hermione (if she wasn't a war hero) at a disadvantage when searching for a job after Hogwarts.

We see it with Tom Riddle (12 NEWTs, all O's, prefect, and head boy). Yes, Slughorn pulled some strings to get him job offers, but he preferred to work at Borgin and Butkes over the lowly ministry positions they were willing to give a muggleborn who got a recommendation! What do you think happens to the muggleborns without a close relationship with Slughorn or to students who were quiet but still got solid Os and Es. And we don't know if other teachers recommend students to the ministry.

And that's before I talk about how muggleborns are introduced to magic, which is abhorrent. Or the lack of care towards child abuse (cases like Harry, Voldemort, and Snape come to mind). Or wizards' condescension towards everything muggle. Even Arthur Weasley, who supposedly loves muggles, is incredibly condescending towards muggles and ill-informed about them.

This outlook on muggles is why the Statue of Secrecy is a joke. I mean, book 1 opens with Vernon seeing weird people in colorful cloaks celebrating Voldemort’s downfall. They have no subtlety. considering Ron confounded the examiner on his driver's test and Harry and his family walked with owls in a muggle train station, this didn't get better either...

Sorry for my rant about the ministry, but all this is to say, I don't like the idea of Harry and Hermione working in such a corrupt system that they both witnessed the damage of firsthand. And even if they did work there, I kinda expected them to change it. To actually put in the effort to improve the damaged system they had, and JK mentioned they did. But in the epilogue and any other material we see no signs of this improvement. Everything is still corrupt and running on connections and favors. Otherwise, Albus Potter wouldn't be scared of being sorted into Slytherin, that fact alone means the prejudices that are a huge problem in their world still exist.

The ministry's corruption was such a big plot point in the final books that it feels weird to me that it isn't addressed in any way in the epilogue itself. I mean, the reason Voldemort rose to power as easily as he did was because the ministry and their society were built to allow it.

My ideal epilogue will take place maybe a few months after the war, it'll show them rebuilding, and being hopeful for a future that'll now exist. Stop the house rivalries that do more damage than good and cease the discrimination against muggleborns and creatures, or at least take the first steps towards something better. And it'll show the couples together and the golden trio's friendship, but no second-generation stuff. I feel that wasn't necessary to get the point across. Which I don't feel it did. Like, it gave me the wrong kind of catharsis that I wasn't looking for, if that makes any sense. It just gave me answers to questions I didn't ask.

Tldr;

Sorry for my rambling, the epilogue and anything stated after the books isn't really canon in my head.

[tobe-sogolden]

Regarding Olivia - I had to delete twitter because I didn’t want to keep seeing the constant nastiness aimed at her/their relationship, I couldn’t do it anymore. I didn’t want it to ruin my enjoyment of Harry’s new music and album. I know it’s still happening, like when she posted about Coachella I could tell that would make people mad lol. It’s just the most depressing thing in the world to me that Harry actually has someone who clearly adores him and puts in effort with his schedule and hers - which is really important to sustain a relationship, especially with his lifestyle - and people can’t get past their hatred and jealousy. Like that is the most selfish thing in the world. They’ve obviously not had it easy from the start and they’ve made it work, which speaks volumes. This is something he deserves more than anything and has wanted for a long time. working as a team with someone he loves. It fell apart last time and he was heartbroken and y’all are acting like this when he’s happy and settled with someone?? There is something seriously wrong with some people and they should not be a “fan” of an ARTIST if they’re that fucked up about him being taken lmao. They say the shittiest things about Harry as well because they’re so mad and feel betrayed by him. “I hope x song gets number 1 instead” “He can’t get anyone to stay so this won’t last 🤣”. How the hell can you be so horrible to the person you’re supposed to be a fan of 😭 I do think we shouldn’t give these people too much power in Olivia or Harry’s life, because they know how to distance themselves from it. Harry has clearly learnt that and drawn clear boundaries with social media. I don’t blame him because I can’t handle it for long without it affecting me and it’s not even about me or someone I love. But the fact that it’s probably something he’s discussed with his partners/dates for years now and tried to help them deal with, makes me really sad. I’m sure he feels like a burden sometimes because it never fucking changes and is out of his control. There’s probably gonna be references to her and their relationship throughout the album because it’s his life and his experiences and he’s open in his music, but there’s gonna be endless discourse and complaining about it and it sucks!! He can’t even be an authentic artist without people being weird. I’m thankful for his more normal casual fans. At the end of the day you don’t have to like anyone, for example I’m not the biggest fan of Nick and he’s beloved by harries. I don’t talk shit about him though, he was important to Harry for years. This is just to make a point but…he’s said his fair share of weird/shitty stuff and people are allowed to like him, because he’s not a bad person overall and he was cute with harry. Why can’t people feel that way about Olivia lol? i’m really sorry for writing you an essay I’m just really tired of this fandom and above all, I feel bad for Harry because I think he’s a lovely person who deserves happiness with who he chooses. He’s always advocated for spreading love and being kind, and yet his own fans let him down lmao? Make it make sense because he would severely dislike a lot of you who feel so comfortable being nasty instead of just listening to his music. Olivia is clearly in it for the long haul, he’s not broken up with her because of your tantrums and deep dives into all her mistakes, so keep embarrassing all of us. It’s futile because you’re not a part of his life. I have mental illness but damn y’all take the cake when you’re hell bent on Harry being single or with someone you think is suitable for your own comfort 🤷🏻‍♀️ Again I apologise, I just had to get this out because I knew you’d understand

Literally nothing to add. You said it all!! 👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾

[watchmegetobsessed]

WILDEST FANTASIES (part 1)

⚫️A/N: alright, i couldn't hold myself back any longer so HERE IT IS!!! i am so stoked for this story, i can't wait to read your reactions, im very nervous and excited and AHHH!!!

⚫️PAIRING: Professor!Harry X Reader

⚫️WARNING: sexual content

⚫️WORD COUNT: 6k

SERIES MASTERPOST

“Oh my God, are you still working on that assignment?”

Ramona, one of your roommates walks out of her bedroom with an empty mug and plate, her boyfriend’s hoodie is swallowing her slim figure, her hair in a not too picturesque messy bun on top of her head as she makes her way to the kitchen sink. You’re perched up on a stool at the small kitchen island, a blanket thrown over your shoulders as you stare at the practically empty document in front of you. Over the course of the last two hours you only typed your name and two whole lines out. So that’s basically nothing.

Groaning you let your head smash against the keyboard as Ramona washes her dishes.

“This is bullshit, Ram. I took this class because I thought it would be an easy few credits and I like writing, but now it’s totally kicking my ass!” you whine, sitting up and deleting the letters your forehead hit into the document. For a moment you think about leaving it there, even turning it in. It would definitely be better or at least more than what you could come up with.

Ramona dries her hands and turns to face you, folding her arms over her chest she leans against the counter chewing on her bottom lip.

“What do you have to write about, again?”

“I have to write the first chapter of the story I worked on throughout the semester. You know, the one I told you about.”

“The boy and the fish?” she cocks her head to the side.

“Yes. But it was easier to just theorize about it than to actually write it,” you sigh with a pained grimace, the empty document practically laughing at you on the screen of your laptop.

“Can’t you write about something else?”

“No, unfortunately I can’t. God, I’m regretting ever taking this class,” you growl, shutting your laptop, not able to take the mocking you’re getting from it right now.

“Oh come on, you surely don’t regret seeing Professor Sexy every week,” Ramona laughs teasing.

“Right now, I wish nasty things upon Professor Sexy,” you sigh, though the thought of him definitely chases your anger away a bit.

“I think about doing nasty things to him too,” she sighs dreamily and you gasp dramatically.

“Ramona! Does your boyfriend know you’re fantasizing about my Creative Writing professor?”

“Y/N, I’m convinced even Dean fantasizes about him!” she scoffs, making the both of us laugh.

Professor Harry Styles is definitely by far the hottest teacher on campus. But he would be the best-looking even if you took the students as well. Beside Creative Writing he teaches Language and Linguistics, International Fiction and your absolute favorite, the class women basically kill each other to get into: Women Writers.

He is nothing like the macho men in town that think they can get any woman they want. Because Professor Styles could actually get any woman he wants. With his six feet, fit figure, rocking several tattoos and probably even more under his oddly styled outfits, painted nails and many rings he sports every day, he surely has every women on campus wrapped around her fingers. Walking around you often catch conversations between girls, daydreaming about the professor and you can always relate to them, because you tend to do the same.

If any other male professor were to teach Women Writers, females in school would be rioting against it, but not when it comes to Professor Styles. The man is basically part of the females which kind of just adds to his unbearable sex appeal. You didn’t exclusively decide to take one of his classes just to stare at him for one and a half hours every week, but it’s definitely a plus.

“Alright, what do you have so far?” Ramona asks, grabbing a pack of crackers from the cupboards as she leans onto the kitchen island across from you. Opening your laptop again, the screen comes to life and you clear your throat.

“In all the seas, in all the world, there has never been a land quite like the isle of Eroda. Shaped unmistakably like a frown, it is home to an all but forgotten fishing village that has had perpetual cloud cover for as long as anyone can remember.”

You stop and look at Ramona who is waiting for you to continue, but there’s nothing else. This is all you could come up with in the past two hours. Pathetic.

“Go on,” she nods, popping a cracker into her mouth but you give her a tight-lipped smile.

“This is it. This is everything I have.”

“You’ve been sitting here for hours.”

“Thanks for making me feel so good about it!” you huff, pushing the laptop away so you can lay your head onto the counter in front of you.

“Sorry! I’m sorry. Okay, so… how long should it be?”

“At least ten pages,” you breathe out desperately.

“Shit,” she sighs, putting the crackers away. “I wish I could help, but you know my imagination is on the level of a brick.”

You snort at her comment, sitting up straight again to look at her. She gives you an apologetic smile just when the front door opens and your second and last roommate strides into the apartment. Kostas has one arm full of groceries as he kicks his shoes off and changes them to his cute slippers his mother sent him all the way from Greece in a care package along with all of his favorite Greek snacks that are still taking up half of a cupboard in the kitchen, but at least he shares them with all of you.

He beams at the two of you with his usual upbeat mood, but upon seeing the two of you his smile falls.

“What’s this sourness I’m tasting in here?” he asks as he joins you at the island, setting down his bag to unload.

“Y/N is trying to write her assignment for Professor Sexy,” Ramona files him in and his head snaps around right away.

“God, I always forget you have a class with him! He is too hot, I can’t think straight when I’m near him in the cafeteria.” He grabs his veggies and puts them to his shelf in the fridge before looking back at the two of you. “Not that anything I do is straight,” he adds, making you both laugh.

“You guys are not helping me with all the sexy talk about him, it just makes me want to write the story even less,” you sigh dramatically.

“Just… offer him to suck him off for an A,” Kostas shrugs and you roll your eyes at his suggestion, not even taking him seriously, though the thought of having Professor Styles down your throat… you shouldn’t even go there right now.

“I think he’s gotten some offers like that before,” Ramona scoffs, stuffing her hands into her hoodie’s pocket.

“Definitely,” Kostas agrees as he moves to the cupboards to put the pasta and canned food he bought away. “But the real question is, has he ever accepted the offer?”

“No way,” you shake your head, pulling your laptop back in front of you, disappointed that no words magically appeared in the document in the meantime.

“But he surely got tempted at least a few times,” Ramona muses.

“Who doesn’t get tempted when they get offered oral sex?” Kostas chimes in, finishing up with his groceries before he joins you on the other stool, taking a look at what you’ve got so far, but he grimaces at the very few lines typed out.

“It’s so dirty that maybe some of our teachers have thought about having sex with us, don’t you think?” Ramona smirks coyly and you know she is thinking about her Economics professor. She is known to have a crush on the man even though he is in his late forties and has two kids and a wife.

“When is Dean coming back to town? You need to get laid,” Kostas asks her, making you laugh.

“Shut up,” she rolls her eyes. “We make up for the loss on the phone,” she then adds smirking pleased with herself.

“Oh, we all know, Honey. The walls are not that thick,” Kostas replies and that evidently shuts her up, her cheeks and ears turning red. Dean lives alone, so they are usually at his place when they want to be alone, not putting you and Kostas through the trauma of having to hear them fuck here, but you’ve also heard them on the phone the other day and it made you wonder how good of a call girl Ramona would be if she ever needs extra cash…

“I wish I could just write something else,” you sigh, changing the topic from Ramona’s sex life as you purse your lips, staring at the screen.

“Do you have something you’d want to write about?” she asks, leaning onto her elbows on the counter top.

“The easiest thing to write would be definitely a steamy story about the professor,” you breathe out, half joking, half seriously.

“Oh, like a fanfiction?” Kostas’ eyes light up at the idea. “What would it be about?”

“Mmm,” you think, fingers lingering above the keyboard before you smile up at your roommates and start typing while saying the words out loud.

“The professor sat in his leather chair behind his desk, paper piles stacked neatly on top of it, his piercing green eyes boring into me as I stood at the door in my uniform…”

“Uniform?” Ramona questions.

“You know, like a… school girl uniform. Short skirt, white shirt that’s unbuttoned at the top, knee high socks,” you add and her eyes widen.

“Oh, nasty!” Kostas laughs, but he is clearly enjoying it.

“How can I help you?” He asked, his tongue slowly running over his lips, wetting them at the sight of me as I took a few steps into the office. I made sure to sway my hips more than usually, the movement definitely caught his eyes that roamed down the length of my body.”

The document is starting to fill up with your words, even though these shouldn’t be the ones taking up your mind.

“I was hoping to talk about my grade, Professor. Do you have a moment?”

You imitate a low, sexy voice and your roommates are drinking up your words as you go along with the story.

“Come on in,” he nodded and I closed the door behind me for some privacy.

“I know the grades are decided, but I was hoping there was something I could do to earn some extra points and get an A, what do you think?”

“Depends on how far you’re willing to go for those extra points,” he hummed as I walked closer to his desk, pushing some of the papers to the side so I could sit on it, my short skirt barely covering my ass, baring the whole length of my thigh. The professor’s gaze snapped down at my leg, taking his sweet time staring at the smooth skin. When his eyes returned to mine, they were dark and filled with lust, they almost made me launch at him over the desk.

“Holy shit, Y/N, do you secretly write erotica novels?” Kostas snaps, fanning himself with his hands as you shake your head chuckling.

“I just have a wild imagination.”

“Okay, now go on, I need to know the rest,” he urges you, so you return to the document in front of you.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do, Professor,” I said, running a hand down my throat and over my breasts that were pushed so tight against my shirt, the buttons were threatening to pop any moment.

“That’s a dangerous thing to say, Miss Y/L/N,” he answered, eyes following wherever my hand was going on my body. They stared as I undid the first button of my shirt, giving him an even better sight of my breasts, the red lacy bra I was wearing now peaked out from under the white fabric and I noticed a hitch in his breath as he leaned back in his seat. My eyes fluttered down to his crotch and I finally noticed the delicious bulge that was growing by the moment. He caught my wandering eyes, but didn’t say a word, just let me gawk at him as we stared at each other for a few silent moments.

“I like dangerous and risky things, Professor,” you told him, undoing another button on your shirt. At this point, you could just get rid of the whole thing, your chest was fully on display.

“For real, do you do porn behind our back?” Ramona gasps, making all three of you laugh.

“How do you think I’m paying rent?” you play along.

“Can you get me a few gigs? But only if I can choose my partner,” Kostas places a hand to your knee, most likely already fantasizing about who he wants to work with in the industry.

“Of course, of course,” you nod chuckling.

“Okay, you can’t leave us hanging. Go on!” Ramona urges and once again, you return to the document.

The professor stood from his chair, taking his time as he walked around the desk until he was standing in front of me. I was still sitting on the top, one foot on the ground, the other one hanging in the air, legs parted enough that I flashed him a peek of my matching red thong underneath my skirt. My hands were aching to get on him, but I wanted him to make the first move.

“In that case, I have a few ideas how we can settle this,” he growled lowly, one hand moving to his erection that was bursting through the seams of his pants. My mouth watered at the way he gripped himself, my pussy drenched just from the sight in front of me. I needed to be touched and it had to be by him. I was ready to give him anything he wanted from me.

“Don’t hold back on me, Professor,” I moaned, a hand moving down to between my legs to touch myself, desperate for the slightest friction, but just when I could finally help myself, he grabbed both my wrists and stepping between my legs he yanked me against him, kissing me hard, his tongue down my throat in a blink of the eyes. I could feel his cock pressed against my wet, slick pussy and—

Ramona’s phone starts buzzing in her pocket and it snaps all three of us out of my fantasy.

“Oh, it’s Dean. I have to take this,” she breathes out holding up the phone in her hands. “And I’m totally not gonna get him to do phone sex with me after what you just planted into my head,” she chuckles as she heads towards her bedroom before shutting the door behind her.

“I really hope Dean will be back next week, because her libido is absolutely off the charts,” Kostas huffs, making you chuckle as he stands from the stool. “Anyway, I hope this little erotica break brought inspiration to you to finish the actual assignment. I have to start on one as well, so I’ll lock myself up in my cave. Good luck, girl!” He sends you kisses as he disappears in his own room, leaving you alone.

Turning back to your laptop you see the story still there, you scroll up and run over it again. It’s hot and spicy, you can see it happening so clearly in your head. It would be a shame to just abandon it. Grabbing your laptop you leave your spot in the kitchen and go back to your bedroom. Turning on the fairy lights wrapped around the headboard of your bed, you make yourself comfortable on the mountain of pillows and put your headphones in to start some music in case Ramona gets a little too excited and loud in the room next door.

The story has definitely made you horny and you think of grabbing your trusty pink vibrator from under the mattress, but you’re aching to finish the story, so before helping on yourself, you get back to writing.

An hour later you have thousands of words worth of your wildest fantasies about your Creative Writing professor and how you’d want him to fuck you in his office. It’s dirty, kinky and definitely unlikely to ever happen. You’re convinced you’ll never be able to look him in the eyes like before, but at least he will never any of the shit you wrote into this piece.

Getting it off your chest actually brings you inspiration for the real assignment, so after saving the dirty story, you open a new document and start typing. An hour later you’re almost halfway done so at last you decide to stay up until you’re finished. It’s Sunday tomorrow, you can sleep for as long as you want and at least you’ll have it done and turned in.

It’s around two in the morning when you finally finish and give it one last read to correct any mistakes. You edit it, make sure it’s just the way you want it and then open the online site where you have to turn assignments in. You feel exhausted and half asleep as you get to the page where Professor Styles is expecting the assignments to be uploaded. You export it and watch as the loading bar fills up and the file appears as an attachment. You type your name into the text bar before clicking upload and shutting the laptop closed as soon as it’s sent. You put it aside and just doze off right away, pleased with the work you’ve done.

Creative Writing is your last class on Wednesdays, starting at four and ending at five thirty. After the weekend when you turned the assignment in, you end up almost being late, barely making it on time because your last class was dragged longer than it should have. The professor and the majority of the class is already in the room so you just sprint to your usual seat. When you look up you see that the professor is staring right at you and it makes you freeze in your spot, all blood rushing out of your head.

It’s not the kind of mindless staring when you’re just too deep in your thoughts to realize your eyes are boring into someone. No, he is looking at you with a purpose, and judging from the furrowed eyebrows and darkened eyes, this purpose is not too pleasant.

He starts the class on time and avoids looking at you for the rest of it, while you’re basically falling apart in your seat. Normally you enjoy these ninety minutes, it’s kind of the highlight of your week, but not today. This unsettling feeling in your guts keeps you on edge the whole time and you can’t wait to flee from this room.

The last twenty minutes feel like an eternity and when the professor finally dismisses everyone you’re basically the first one to jump to your feet. The tiny voice in the back of your mind is telling you to get out of here as fast as possible.

“Miss Y/L/N!” the professor’s voice stops you in your tracks and your stomach drops. “Would you mind staying for a few minutes?”

Slowly turning to face him, you’re met with the same bewildered, dark look in his eyes and you feel like a reindeer caught in headlights as you nod anxiously. So much for leaving right away.

You walk to the side so the students pass by you easily. The professor gathers his papers, obviously waiting for the crowd to leave before talking to you. By the time the last person wanders out of the room you’re basically a nervous wreck.

Your eyes venture to the clearly fuming man just a few feet away and you watch him grab a stack of paper from his pile, placing it onto the desk before his eyes flicker up to meet yours.

“Would you mind explaining what this is?”

Stepping closer you take a look at the document in front of you, it has your name on it and the first few lines of your assignment you turned in, but the rest is not the story about the boy and the fish. You nearly faint when you keep reading and realize what it is.

The professor sat in his leather chair behind his desk, paper piles stacked neatly on top of it, his piercing green eyes boring into me as I stood at the door in my uniform…

“Oh my God,” you choke out, grabbing the papers from the desk to see if it’s the whole thing, though you already know the answer to that.

For some terrible and fatal reason, you must have ended up uploading the wrong document when you were turning the assignment in so late. You were half asleep, just happy to be done with it and you didn’t double check if you’ve chosen the right file. The erotic, kinky piece you wrote about the professor and yourself is now lying in front of you, printed out and he has surely read it and the look on his face now makes perfect sense.

“Yeah, I had a similar reaction when I opened the file the other day,” he nods furiously and you genuinely wish that you would just drop dead right then and there.

“This is—It’s a mistake, professor. I-I didn’t mean to, this was—oh my god, I can’t believe this is happening,” you stammer, hands shaking as you avoid to look at him. This is undoubtedly the worst moment of your whole life and nothing will even come close to topping it. You’ll never be able to recover from this, you might even have to go to therapy, because you surely feel like you’ve lost your mind in this moment.

The professor sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he takes a moment to calm himself down. You can only imagine how awkward it is for him. He must be aware how good-looking he is and the effect he has on women. He’s been teaching here for years and you are surely not the first student to have a crush on him. There’s no way he is oblivious to all of this, but he probably never had to directly deal with it like now. He can’t control how other people feel about him or his look, but he should have never been put into the position where his professional work is crossed by some horny student’s wildest fantasies.

“Professor Styles, I am so sorry for this, it was all just a mistake. This was written as just a joke with my roommates, I never meant to use it or post it anywhere, I promise! I accidentally uploaded the wrong file, I swear my real assignment is nothing like this!”

All you can do is ramble about how sorry you are. Because you definitely are. You’ve never felt more embarrassed of yourself before and you’ll never live this down. But you have bigger things to worry about than your own haunting thoughts. What if he fails you for this stunt? Or worse, takes this to the dean and you get kicked out of school? You can definitely see it happen.

“I can only hope that it was just an honest mistake on your part,” he says when he finally speaks up.

“It was, absolutely, one hundred percent,” you nod eagerly.

“I’m not going to make a bigger deal out of this than it is. You’re lucky I’m the one it happened with, because I know some other professors would have taken it way more seriously. I’m willing to forget about it however if you promise not to be this careless in the future.”

“Learned my lesson, won’t happen again,” you shake your head, your heart hammering in your chest from the adrenaline.

“Great. Make sure to keep your… personal works separated from your school work. The assignment’s due date is tomorrow. I’ve already deleted your attachment from the system, but I think it’s better if you turn the real one in printed. I want your work on my desk by four pm tomorrow.”

“Understood,” you nod and hesitate whether you should place the printed copy of your shameful fiction back to the desk.

“Take it with you,” he tells you and you clutch it to your chest quickly.

“Again, I’m very sorry, professor. And thank you for… not punishing me for my reckless actions.”

Your eyes snap up right as you talk about punishing and for a split second you see something even darker in his eyes, but you’re not in the position to ponder about anything.

“I’ll see you next week, Miss Y/L/N,” he nods shortly before tearing his gaze away from you.

You sprint out of the room faster than ever and basically run the five blocks distance back to your apartment’s building. When you burst through the front door you find Kostas in the kitchen cooking and he gives you a questioning look upon seeing how shaken up you are.

“What? Were you chased home?” he asks as he keeps stirring something in the pot that smells absolutely delicious. Dropping your bag on your way you join him, still shaking from the encounter you just had with Professor Styles. Your mouth is dry so you grab a bottle of water from the fridge and chug down the whole thing at once.

“I fucked up. Big time,” you finally manage to speak up.

“You look like you just killed someone, what the fuck happened?”

“I wish I was the one to get killed,” you cry out, burying your face in your hands.

“Just tell me already!”

“Do you remember the dirty story I wrote when I was struggling with my assignment for Professor Styles?”

“Oh, your fanfiction! Of course!” he grins.

“I, uhh—I accidentally… I turned that in as my assignment.”

Kostas’ eyes go so wide for a moment you think they are gonna pop out. He opens his mouth several times, but closes it until he finally speaks up.

“Jesus, are you out of your mind?”

“It was an accident! I turned it in so late, I didn’t check if it was the right file!”

He stares back at you as if you really did just confess to killing someone and it’s the first time he seems speechless, that’s how you know you messed up really badly. Kostas always has a snarky, funny reply to everything, yet now he is just staring at you in silence and it’s worse as if he was dragging your ass for being so stupid.

Then he finally snaps out of his horror.

“Okay, alright. It’s not that bad, right? I mean, it wasn’t that bad what you wrote with us last night, it only went until the kiss.”

“I finished it later, wrote the whole thing,” you admit as you feel the panic rising inside you once again.

“Oh my God, Y/N, you have a death wish or something?”

“Thanks, you’re making me so good about it!” you snap back before dropping to the floor. Sitting you pull your knees to your chest as you lean against the cupboards underneath the counter. Kostas returns to the stove to check on the food while you question your whole existence.

“I’m sorry, but… it’s not like you can undo it now. Did he flip? Are you in trouble?”

“He was pissed. Like, so pissed, I’ve never seen the man like that. But surprisingly, I’m not in trouble. I just need to hand in my real assignment until tomorrow, but this time printed so I don’t fuck it up again.”

“Wow, he went soft on you, girl. He is an angel,” he huffs.

Rubbing your face with your hands you push yourself up from the floor, squaring your shoulders.

“I will never be able to look him in the eyes, Kostas. You have no idea what I wrote in that shit,” you shake your head vigorously.

“Can I read?” he peeks at you and you give him a hard look. “What? Just want to know how bad exactly it was!”

“I’m deleting the file. I wish I could burn my laptop, but I can’t afford a new one,” you growl, running a hand through your hair. “Anyway, I’ll go and make sure my real assignment is the best I can ever turn in. I’m surprised he is not failing me right away.”

The next day you leave earlier than your usual, dropping by the copy place near the campus to print your paper. You read it through three more times on your way just to make sure everything is decent and there’s no trace of your dirty fantasy in it.

You plan to drop by the professor’s office during your lunch break. Your two classes in the morning manage to take your attention away from the disaster that your life is, even if just for a few hours. But when you head to the building where Professor Styles’ office is, your nerves start to beat you up once again at the thought of having to face him.

You lied awake in your bed last night for a long time, thinking about it. He must think you’re crazy, like right off the bats kind of crazy, a maniac, almost like a stalker. It’s not like you wanted to use that story for anything, it would have rotted on your computer for eternity, probably getting deleted at some point. You had no plans to publish it or even just share with anyone, not even with Kostas or Ramona. They’ve heard enough of it and they surely don’t have to know the nasty things you fantasized about when you were alone.

His office’s door is closed, you see that from down the hallway. Taking several deep breaths you walk up and stop in front of it, staring at his name displayed on the wall next to the door. You can’t just dismiss how ironic it is, that your fantasy started similarly, though you are definitely not wearing the same outfit, your jeans and sweater covering most of your body unlike the uniform from the story.

At last you knock on the door, your heart hammering in your throat and you listen carefully for an answer that never comes. You knock again, hoping you just missed his voice, but you hear nothing again, so you decide to try to open the door, expecting it to be locked, but it opens. Just when you’re about to poke your head inside, a voice speaks up behind you.

“Are you looking for Harry? Oh, sorry, I mean Professor Styles.”

You recognize Professor Alvarez, she is teaching Modern American Literature, Drama and Poetry, Ramona had a class with her last semester. She is probably the youngest member of the department, barely thirty and she always looks her best, as if she just stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine. You’ve never been sure how she can afford designer clothes and the expensive car you’ve seen her drive around campus from the paycheck she earns from the university, not that it’s any of your business.

“Uh, yeah. I have to hand in my paper,” you nod clearing your throat.

“He just left minutes ago to get lunch. I’m sure he’ll be back shortly, wait for him,” she smiles at you warmly, brushing her long, almost black hair over her shoulders.

“Oh, no. I’ll just place it onto his desk, if that’s alright.”

“Sure, go ahead. Do you want me to tell him you were here?”

“No need. He’ll see my name on top,” you force a smile back and she just nods, walking away as you step into Professor Styles’ office.

It’s not your first time here, so you’re not surprised by the massive amount of books lining along the walls and piling even on the floor in the corner. His desk is a bit messy, an empty coffee mug is set on the side, his laptop open, but the screen is black. The walls are a nice olive color and they match great with the vintage looking rug that covers the hardwood flooring that can be found in many of the classrooms as well in this building.

Crossing the room you step to his desk and pulling your paper out of your bag, pinned together with a paper clip, you place it to the middle so he can’t miss it when he returns. Feeling like an intruder you are about to leave right away, but then something catches your eyes.

Peeking from under a smaller stack of papers, your name is written on top and you recognize the formatting of the document. All your blood rushes into your head as you pull it out without even thinking about it and your mouth hangs open when you see another copy of your little fantasy printed out.

It can’t be the one he showed you yesterday since he told you to take it with yourself. That means he had it printed at least twice and this copy is different from the other one you have at home. It has some lines highlighted.

“What the…” You can barely believe your eyes, but the marking runs through the whole thing. The neon yellow color appears quite a few times throughout the whole text. You start going over the lines that caught his attention.

“My mouth watered at the way he gripped himself, my pussy drenched just from the sight in front of me.”

“I begged to him, my knees bruising against the harsh bristles of the rub underneath me, but it was all worth it.”

“My hands wrapped around his thick, throbbing erection and my lips parted.”

“He took my erected nipple between his teeth, tugging on it just enough to make me whine.”

“He dragged the glistening tip across my soaking wet pussy, circling on my clit before he pushed the head inside, the rest following right after.”

“I screamed his name as his hand slapped against my ass over and over again, his hips pounding into me.”

And there was many more. All through the whole thing, he highlighted parts that got dirtier as the story evolved.

You flip through it again as if you were afraid this was just a game your imagination played with you. But the more you stare at the papers in your hands the more evident it’s becoming that it’s there and you’re not just hallucinating.

It doesn’t make sense, it was very clear he had nothing to do with it, he said he deleted your attachment from the site as well, but if that was the case, why does he have another copy that’s been evidently read thoroughly?

A laughter echoes outside of the room and you realize that you shouldn’t be here and definitely shouldn’t be snooping around your professor’s desk. You need to leave before he gets back so you don’t have to face him.

You’re about to stuff the dirty document back into the stack when something unfamiliar washes over you. A sudden urge of confidence and hunger for dominance after the embarrassment you went through yesterday, you want to give him a hint that he was busted.

So instead of making it look like you didn’t touch anything, you lay both your assignments to the table neatly next to each other, your dirty fiction of him and your real work you were supposed to turn in. When he’ll look at the desk it’ll be obvious that you did it and that’s exactly the message you want to leave behind.

Taking one last look at the setup you can’t help but feel excited and riled up as you walk out of his office and leave before he gets back to see your little surprise.

NEXT PART

Thank you for reading! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed!

[manchesterau]

you’re in a car by leedsau

words: 1515

summary: harry thinks he knows what love means when he looks at louis.

note: i woke up inching to write someone last night. first I read a fic, which I really enjoyed. and that fic lead me into reading poetry, which naturally leaded me to read poems by richard siken. and after reading the poem im quoted below, I decided to open at google docs and start writing until I couldnt. usually I tamper down this feeling until it goes away, but this time I decided to indulge in it. and im glad I did. before writing this I was going through a bad case of writers block, but know I feel like...a weight as been lifted off my shoulders. I hope you enjoy this, and I felt like it was too short to put it on ao3 so here it is in it’s entirety. thank you to my writing gc for the encouraging words! (this is unedited)

                                                                _______________

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for. -- richard siken

harry doesn’t know how they always end up this way. in a car while it pours down outside. the heat their bodies radiate fogging up the windows.

it’s at these moments that the world feels like it’s been paused. that it’s just him and louis and the sound of them breathing harshly. 

they had run to louis’ mum’s car with smiles on their faces and with laughter in the air. the car was the only car left in the parking lot. it’s an off green color from years of use and the interior is a dark blue, so dark it looks black. 

on a previous day some weeks ago they had ran to louis’ mum’s car with smiles on their faces and laughter in the air. they weren’t the only car in the parking lot. but the windows were foggy, and again, the world felt like it had been paused.

harry looks to louis.

it’s a tricky thing, love. what it does to people. how it can destroy you and put you back together again, sometimes all in the same day. love is fleeting but also everlasting. love is ugly and demented, but also beautiful and sane. it has many forms, taking the form of whatever it chooses that day, or that week, that month and maybe even years. sometimes people grow out of love, losing what once came so easily to them. 

harry looks away from louis.

if he thinks hard enough, strains his brain to come up with the answers to all the questions he holds, he thinks he can just about find love in everything. like his mum making his stepdad coffee in the morning every morning for five years now. or the way his mum cards her soft fingers through his hair when he's got his head on her lap. the way couples on the street move in tandem with each other. the way they unconsciously start to match, becoming a mirror, becoming one.

harry thinks he knows what love means when he looks at louis.

it didn’t start out this way. that’s what he always tells himself but he knows it’s not true. since the beginning he’s always loved louis, even when he didn't know it yet. they had always been close is the thing, closer than most anyways. and it’s sort of always been just him and louis even when it wasn't. he doesn't like to think he was just wondering his little part of earth until he found louis. he likes to think that louis had always been there and that there had been no waiting. they were just slow to come together.

the thing about love is that it comes easier to some people than others, and harry thinks that loving louis is the easiest thing he’s ever done. it’s because it isn't hard to love louis. harry actually thinks the whole world is in love with louis. it’s the way he talks to people that makes it so easy. he’s attentive and generous in the way he looks at you. he pays attention and makes sure your heard. he laughs at all your dumb jokes and teases until your smiling so wide and so big it hurts, but it’s louis so you endure the ache you feel later.

loving louis comes so naturally to harry it scares him sometimes, because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if this doesn’t last. It's a scary thing to love, it takes bravery to really love someone the way they deserve to be loved. harry hopes he loves louis the way he deserves to be loved.

“hopefully the rain stops soon.” louis says.

he’s smiling, and harry can't help but smile back even when he can't bring himself to look at louis. he fears that if he looks at louis again he’ll know how he feels and then this moment will be over. the world will be unpaused and it just won't be them, stuck in louis’ mum‘s old beat up van. louis will drive harry back to his flat, and then he will drive himself home, and then he will tell his sisters about the day he’s had with harry. and harry will wait alone in his flat waiting for tomorrow when they will see each other again and pretend harry didn't have that look on his face. they will go on pretending like everything is fine. and soon harry will be old and louis will be old and he will tell his children’s children about the look he gave to a friend years before. 

“yeah, hopefully.” he says.

the sound of the thunder outside says differently. louis laughs, and harry can't help but to look at him. and he knows that louis can see that look on his face, because louis has that same look. and harry doesn’t know how to understand what that means, what even is that look. but he has a feeling he knows.

he doesn’t know how they always end up this way. it’s pouring raining outside, and yet it’s so quiet in this car. he can hear louis breathing, and he thinks if louis strained his ears enough he could hear the way harry's heart is beating. it says I think i'm in love with you. and harry hopes that's enough.

love is a tricky thing. it’s what it does to people, what it makes them do that makes it so tricky and scary. people have fought over love. people have died over love and have gotten married and had babies. people will abandon one love for another. love gives people courage to do things they'd never do in daylight when someone can see.

so while the world is paused, while it’s just him and louis in this van looking at each other saying all the things they’re too afraid to say, harry thinks about love. he hopes louis is too.

“I…“ he tries to say something but what else is there to say. he is looking at louis, and louis is looking at him. it’s raining outside, a flash of lightning illuminates everything the light can touch. louis is lit ablaze by white light. somewhere far away or maybe close by a tree is more than likely on fire, and harry doesn't have a care in the world.

louis leans over the console.

for a split second, just before their lips meet, harry thinks this is it, there is no turning back from this. and then their lips meet. and then louis is grabbing harry's hand and placing it right where his heart beats beneath his chest. and harry thinks he’s telling him: feel that? i'm in love with you too.

harry doesn't know how they always end up like this, but he thinks this is the first time where he doesn’t mind if the world unpauses, because louis doesn’t stop kissing him. he'd stay right here if he could, his hand on louis’ chest and his lips on louis’ lips. for a fleeting moment he wished he had licked his lips before hand. it makes him laugh, his silly thought. and then louis is pulling back laughing as well. and harry chases after louis as he pulls back, eager to keep kissing. and louis crashes his lips back onto harry’s.

they kiss until the sun has gone down, until the rain has stopped and it’s so cold that harry can’t feel his finger tips. he thinks he’s getting lightheaded, but it feels good. if this were his last day on earth, last hour, he thinks he would be content with it. knowing that louis loves him back.

they pull back, harry looks away from louis. there is no sound of the rain anymore to drown out the silence. the sounds of them breathing harshly through shiny spit covered lips has harry in disbelief. as much as he wants to let the words be spoken for by the way he looks at louis he has to let him know, subtle but telling looks aren't enough. he still feels like there is this weight on his shoulders.

“I love you.” harry says.

“me too.” louis says.

harry shakes his head, he knows louis understands but he has to get it out. “I love you…like the way a wife loves her husband. like…the way two people feel after they’ve gone on a honeymoon. too much but also just right at the same time. I…think i've loved you before i've even known you, it comes so naturally to me it’s scary.” he looks to louis, he’s shaking.

“me too.”

and that’s done. harry’s said what he needed to say, and even though his hand isn't over the space where louis’ heart is anymore, he thinks if he strains enough he can hear it beating. it says to him I love you more than i've loved anything on this earth. and while love is scary, it’s also wonderful. it leaves the two who are in love feeling weightless and breathless, like they can conquer the whole world together. harry feels like he just conquered the world with louis.

[monobleamour]

love is not for people like us - part one

HI IM ALIVE🙋🏻‍♀️

A/N: i’m a big fan of historical series and books so I decided to make a story about Harry being a prince and y/n a princess in the 15th- 16th century I guess. ALSO HENRY EDWARD THE 5TH IM DYING, the only one? Yeah. Okay and I might have borrowed some stuff from Henry VIII and Katherine of Aragon but they’re from my faves. OKAY BYE HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS s-word!!!!!!!!!!!

summary: Harry has to be king, but the only way to achieve this is by marrying y/n. 

pairing(s): harry styles x reader

word count: 2.5k+

WANT TO ADD THAT I STARTED THIS AS A ONE-SHOT THING BUT THEN MY INSPIRATION LEFT SO I DECIDED TO MAKE THIS A SOME-PARTS-STORY. part1:)

‘’But mother I do not desire to marry this woman. Not that I dislike her, but I do not want to get married. I can do that on my own. I’m a soon to be king.’’ Harry pleased his mother, trying to convince her that he would be fine by his own. Though Anne was already a queen and she knew that no king could command and rule a whole country on his own, they need a queen by their side, and so did Harry. ‘’Harry this is not about you. If you marry her, we’re going to have a more powerful country as well. Think about the profits young man. Love is not for people like us, love is for fools, we are royals. And if you want this country, you’ll want to marry this woman. End of the conversation. I have made my mind and decided what’s best for you and this country.’’ Anne said, sounded a little bit cold to her son, though her heart was breaking a little bit. Even though she was a queen, she wanted him to be happy, but happiness is not in their journal.

Harry’s destination had always been the same. Once he gets married, he’s the king. Since the day he was born, he was going to be the king of England. It was just a matter of time, till he gets married. He knew that he would not marry the one he wanted or will want. He’ll marry a princess, who has the same destination as his. Practically he knows that he’s marrying a country, not the woman. It’s a benefit. The country becomes more powerful, you take over and invade in more countries. Harry didn’t want war. He wanted to have a country so he could make sure everyone is fine, he wanted to put an end in those battles. Peace is what he asked for. And as much he was committed to this country since the day he was born, so much he was committed to Y/n. They had never met each other before, but they had been engaged since they were like 5. Y/n was the princess of Spain, one of Europe’s most powerful countries (I would like to add that if you don’t like Spain or sth, you can put whichever country you want to). She was not like all the other princesses she had ever met though. She was far different from that. She was really beautiful, she was. And also that was something men liked, except for her wealth. But she. She just admired how intelligent she was. She liked reading books, mostly poems so much, sometimes she wished she could be a poet. Y/n pretty much was the opposite of Harry. He desired to be a king, while she hoped she wouldn’t be a queen. She also was pretty much different from the other women. Because everyone believed in men, she believed in herself, she believed in her will and her power. A feminist someone would say. That was because deep down she knew that a king is useless without a queen, while a queen without a king is more powerful, moral of the story. Y/n had never met Harry in her entire life, but she liked to dream about him. She wasn’t thinking how his appearance is, how tall he might be. What colour his eyes were or his hair. She liked to dream about how kind he may be or if he likes to read like her. Maybe he wasn’t a cruel king like past ones, maybe this one was unique. Even though she sometimes liked the idea of Harry, she didn’t allow herself to love him. Not because she knew that royals that fall in love are few, but because she would be taken away. Away from her family and country. She wasn’t like the other ones who hoped one day they’ll marry a king and leave, she liked the idea of herself. In what she wanted to be. She liked to dream, a lot, and for a queen, that is dangerous. Harry never questioned how Y/n would be, because clearly, he didn’t even want it to be. He just wanted a kingdom to himself, to show people that he’s capable of doing something by himself. But even though he didn’t want to get married, that didn’t stop him from flirting. In fact, there was already a girl in his life, a woman he knew he would never marry. Being honest, she was just a maid, he was a king. But he actually felt like he loved her.

‘’Your grace?’’ a woman sounded behind the closed door that was knocked 3 times. At that very moment, Harry knew, he had lost track of time thinking about the whole situation. ‘’Come in.’’ he ordered sitting in the chair next to the desk he had been standing by for 30 possible minutes. ‘’Your grace, there’s a letter for you.’’ the young woman informed him. ‘’Maggie.’’ Harry sighed with a smile in his face. Margaret, or Maggie as Harry preferred to call her, was a maid in the castle. She was Harry’s maid. She was always there for him. Literally, every time and everywhere. As the years went on they kinda became friends, and one thing brought another so, in the end, they became kind of ‘’secret’’ lovers. She wasn’t with someone like most of the maids and the staff was, but she knew Harry was. She knew that Harry would marry one day a princess and they will rule the country together, but she also hated it. Why couldn’t she marry the man she loved, because of what she was. Why did people label other people? Labels are for clothes, not humans. And as Harry had a bright smile in his face as he saw Maggie, she was everything but happy. ‘’Is it true?’’ she asked eyes almost watery. ‘’True what?’’ a little bit confused he replied because he really had no idea what she was talking about. ‘’You’re marrying her, aren’t you?’’ she sadly sighed taking a big breath ‘’it’s not even a question I guess, huh?’’ ‘’Mag.’’ he tried to explain but there was nothing to explain, she knew this would happen so what’s with her now? ‘’Do you want to marry her?’’ she looked at him, just wanting to hear one word. ‘’I have to.’’ ‘’Yet, you didn’t answer my question.’’ ‘’I guess, I still don’t.’’ ‘’Harry, why are you marrying someone you don’t want to? It’s your life you decide. There’s always a second choice. And I know she is yours.’’ ‘’So what’s my first?’’ he knew he had no choice. Either way, in the end, he marries her and England unites with Spain, that’s his destiny. Always have been. ‘’Me, Harry, me. Please, I beg you, don’t marry her.’’ she was begging, her eyes could take it, but her heart no. ‘’Margaret, let me clear this up. I have to marry her, so my country, that I care, will have more power. I have to. It’s what it is. It’s my life, not my choices. They make them for me. You’re just a simple maid nothing more. I will be king, and I need by my side a queen. Not to love her but to rule with her.’’ he said with an emotion that wasn’t angry but neither sad, maybe disappointed probably. ‘’You’re choosing her over me?’’ she was angry she was, she had spent years loving him even though she knew it would never happen, she loved him, and she hoped he loved her. ‘’Not my choice.’’ Harry’s answer was also his final one. Margaret was a nice girl, but she didn’t want to be a fool, she didn’t. ‘’As I said before your Majesty,’’ her mood had completely changed ‘’there’s a letter for you.’’ she gave him the letter, and before he could even speak she stormed out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

As soon as Margaret vanished, Anne appeared. ‘’What’s going on, son?’’ she asked a little bit anxious seeing that her son had kind of turned into pale. ‘’Ugh, a letter came. That.’’ he replied, still sitting on his chair. ‘’What does it say? Is it from Catherine in Spain? When are they sending their daughter? Everything must be perfect, for a princess like her. A queen!’’ Anne seemed to really like the idea of Harry becoming a king, marrying a queen, and England becoming more powerful. Who wouldn’t actually? ‘’I-I still haven’t read it, mother. Let me open it.’’ he did as he said, and even though he didn’t read the letter out loud, Anne already knew that he would confirm her thoughts. ‘’So?’’ she asked, really nervous. ‘’2 days and she’ll be here.’’ Harry said, almost sounded like he wanted to cry. ‘’Great! We have to make everything look great. Harry, you have to look great.’’ ‘’And I will-’’ ‘’Everything Harry! Everything. She will marry you! She holds your whole future! Our future! Your heir! So be careful, please. We need this, we need her.’’ ‘’Yes mother.’’ he said as she left. He really didn’t know what was he supposed to do. But now, he wondered a little bit about her. How does she look? How does she act? What is she like?

Y/n’s carriage was already on its way to England. She had never been to England before so she was a little bit excited to visit the country. It was hard for her to say goodbye to Spain, but it’s her duty as a queen to leave. If only she could live the way she wanted to, things could have been much easier. It was time she arrived at the castle. Everything looked good. Perfect, just like Anne had wanted to. Everyone was waiting for her, the stuff, the royals, everyone. Everyone except Harry. He was still inside, in his room. Only this time he was looking through his window. To admit, this made Anne sort of furious, but in the end, the outcome will be the same, so she didn’t give much attention. Everyone stared as Y/n was stepping out of her carriage. Some people helped her and her ladies, by bringing them closer to the castle. As she was walking by, you could see clearly that she was pure beauty. Her dress was a mix colour of dark orange to light brown and pastel yellow. Everyone wore those colours, and for a princess, those colours should be stunning while she wore them. You couldn’t see her shoes because her dress was so big, that covered most of the floor that surrounded her. She had a necklace full of diamonds, they were shining, she was shining. Her face though was the one that you could just stare forever and adore it. She had those big bambi eyes and that colour of her eyes that suited her perfectly. A big bright smile of her red lips was showing, and it was impressive being honest. Harry couldn’t help but look through his window, opening a little bit that curtain of his. He really admired her. He thought she was beautiful, very beautiful. But he also thought that being a king would be beautiful, surprisingly beautiful. So he went out, to greet her, as he should. As he was walking down, or maybe even running though the stairs, he bumped into Margaret. He just looked at her, and actually tried to say something but he didn’t he just left. He liked Maggie a lot, he did, but he would marry Y/n. He thought that Maggie was one of the many girls that he has fun with, spend his time, but always it comes to end, it usually ends after 2 weeks. Maggie had been with Harry though 2 years. But what’s two years with someone when you’re gonna spend a lifetime with someone else? As he stepped out of the huge door of the castle, he ran immediately to his parents, noticing that they were talking with Y/n. And when he came closer to her, he swore he had never seen a more beautiful girl like her. He felt like he just forgot everything about Maggie, but he didn’t because he was still feeling guilty. And as Harry was really frozen by just looking at her, Y/n was not. ‘’Your Highness’’ she said doing a small curtsey. He was out of words, at a loss of words and really he had no idea what to do. ‘’We-welcome to, ugh, England? Ugh, I, ugh..’’ he had no idea what he should say, and he really did not know why this was happening. ‘’Y/n.’’ she said, introducing herself. ‘’Harry. They call me Harry, it’s actually Henry Edward the 5th but you can call me Harry as well.’’ he sounded upset, yet he was everything but upset. ‘’Great.’’ she said, giving him one of her big smiles and continuing her talk with Anne, going inside the castle.

‘’What was that?’’ a man sounded and Harry turned around to look at him. ‘’What was what?’’ he replied looking at his father, king of England. ‘’You were mesmerized, she had you mesmerized. Got to admit it.’’ Henry smirked to Harry. ‘’What? No. Absolutely no. I just had to come and meet her. She will be my future wife won’t she, and she holds our future. You- you said it.’’ he tried to say clearly, but who was he trying to fool? ‘’Ugh, then, sure I believe you.’’ he said leaving back to the castle, to continue one of the many duties he has.

After a while, Harry was alone in his room per usual, writing. He likes to write a lot. He writes songs and poems, mostly. ‘’Do you want my opinion on her?’’ Maggie appeared from nowhere, but she appeared and she asked. Harry nodded. ‘’She doesn’t look like a queen.’’ she pouted her lips and confessed ‘’ more like a whore to me.’’ ‘’Hey!’’ Harry sightly yelled at her. ‘’You’ve known me for two years, Harry, I don’t get it. You can be king by yourself, why do you need to marry her?’’ her words sounded kind of bittersweet. ‘’I can do it by my own. England, though, can’t.’’ he added ‘’And a king always needs a queen, a real one Maggie. And as much as I care about you, I have to concede that in the end, you could not handle it. You can’t come through being a queen if it’s even achievable.’’ And he left.

Being honest, Harry had fun with Maggie. But that was it, just fun. He didn’t consider marrying her or having a life with her. Not because she was a maid, no. Simply because he knew she was incapable of being a good wife. At the end of the day, a girl like Margaret is just a simple girl, a maid who’s going to get married to a simple boy, but a girl like Y/n is a simple girl as well, who’s going to be queen and marry a simple boy, like Harry who’s going to be king.

[descendantofthesparrow]

Multipart Commission work - Harry Hook x reader - A Prince Behind the Pirate - part 6 - a new deal

@musicarose​

=

An hour later Mal came back, her eyes glowing a soft green and her face scrunched in anger. “she wants the wand for Ben” she growled, Evie's jaw dropped.

“there's no way we're just gonna give Uma the wand, we can't just let her destroy auradon!!!” you bit your lip, watching as the four vks yelled about Umas deal.

“if Uma doesn’t get the wand then Ben is toast” Carlos huffed, Evie threw her hands up in frustration.

“Yeah, we’re just going to give Uma of all people the wand!”

“guys!” Mal interrupted, gesturing to Carlos “your 3D printer!”

“a phony wand” you muttered, smiling as Carlos's eyes brightened.

“in my sleep!” Evie butted in once more.

“but the second Uma tests it she’ll know its fake!”

“so we just get Ben out fast we need some kind of diversion” Jay perked up, looking to Mal.

“smoke bombs!” Mal grinned and pointed at him.

“that’s perfect I can get the chemicals I need from lady Tremaine's place that could work!” she walked over to Mal and touched her hair smiling “sick hair by the way evil stepmom seriously stepped up her game!”

Mal brighten and started to comb through her hair. “okay, you wanna know something? Dizzy did this!”

“little Dizzy shut up!”

“I know it's like a lot lighter”

You looked at the boys and they sighed, jay coughing and Carlos speaking up “hello!?!”

The girls stopped and pressed their lips together in an apologetic smile. “okay!” Mal clapped her hands together “boys, you head back to Auradon, (y/n) you go with them-“ you shook your head, Mal blinking wildly as you stood.

“no! im staying right here, I know as soon as I get back Jay and Carlos will leave me behind, im not leaving my best friend on the isle” Mal was shaken by your determined gaze, she nodded slowly and turned back to the boys.

“Alright so you two head back to Auradon and print the wand, and meet us at pirates bay no later than noon. And you guys?” she paused, looking to each of you. “losing? Not an option…cause we’re rotten”

“to the core” the others finished, smiling softly at each other.

Mal nodded and looked at you “stay here, its safer in here than walking around with us to the salon okay?” you sighed and flopped back on the couch.

“yeah yeah I get it, don’t move” you grumbled, picking at your nails.

“let's do this” Evie laughed, grabbing her jacket and walking out with Mal, the boys running out a moment later.

“I guess I’ll just sit here and wait” you muttered, leaning back and staring at the ceiling.

You should have brought a book or something.

=

“princess is going to trick us im sure of it” Uma muttered, pacing around the deck, Harry and Gil sitting on barrels a few feet away. “we need a new plan, something that involves Ben but differently”

“there was this really pretty girl that was with Evie and the others, she kinda looked like that girl on the tv who was planning cotillion!” Gil offered, snacking on a stolen half eating granola bar.

Uma stopped, then grinned “Gil….sometimes you speak up right at the perfect moments” she cackled, walking over and patting his shoulders.

Gil smiled and continued to eat, Uma beginning to plan with Harry.

=

They should know better than to leave you alone with nothing to do other than explore.

You sat on the rooftop near the hideout, glaring at the clouds above you. You couldn't see a single star, the brightest thing was Auradon city across the Strait of Ursula.

You sniffed, coughing slightly from the thick smog. You should have pushed Ben more to continue his vk reform plan.

There were so many kids here who didn’t do anything, you had a strong feeling that the only reason Uma wanted to take over the world was that she had been forgotten and abandoned by Auradon.

your mind drifted to the little girl from earlier, no child deserved to starve to death, your hands gripped onto your sleeves tightly, glancing down at your bag, still having some fresh food inside.

“well well well~” you squeaked in fright and hopped to your feet, spinning around to see Harry, the boy from earlier who had kidnapped Ben “what do we ‘ave here~ a lost princess~”

You sighed and slumped your shoulders, tilting your head at him “is there something you need with me?” he seemed surprised at your lack of fear but brushed it off.

“aye, the deals changed” you knew your face showed surprise when he giggled ‘cute’ you thought, eyes widening as that thought came to your mind ‘okay brain we do NOT go there right now’

“wait what do you mean?” you slightly panicked, backing up. You yelped, feeling the edge of the building, you lost your balance, starting to tip over the edge. you watched as Harry's eyes widened and he launched himself at you, grabbing your waist and jumping back.

“Holy sh*t lass!” he yelled, pushing you away from him towards the middle of the roof “be careful, we need yeh alive an’ well not dead and in pieces on the floor!!” you took a shaky breath and fell to the floor, holding your head in your hands and trying to get control of your heart.

“t-thank you” you muttered, hearing his voice stop, you looked up, seeing him look down at you surprised.

“uh….yer…wel..come?” he muttered confused, rubbing his arm. He shook his head, walking over to you and grabbing your jacket, forcing you to your feet. “come on, yer takin Bens place for ransom”

“But why?” you asked, Harry, sighed.

“We have reason ta believe that Mals gonna trick us, so Uma changed targets ta yeh, so come on” you dug your feet into the roof, easily stopping Harry.

He looked back, his face scrunching up in frustration “would yeh just-!” you pouted and shook your head. “tell me what you want!”

“I already did!” he yelled, throwing his hands up in the air “Uma jus’ thinks beasty boy would actually be able ta get the wand without lookin like he was stealing it fer himself!”

“he won't though” you muttered “only FG can get the wand, it has a magic barrier around it only she can disable”

“fu- are yeh serious!” Harry facepalmed “alright! New plan! yer gonna be our ransom for whatever we need” you sighed and let him drag you away that time, you’d rather Ben be safe in Auradon to lead it than you being in Auradon worried for ben.

Besides, you could handle yourself, thanks to those lessons from the dream boy.

=

Mals jaw dropped as Ben entered the hideout “Ben!?! What are you-wheres (y/n)?!”

“she took my place, Uma wanted her to be in exchange, something about me being more able to get the wand”

“but we already sent Jay and Carlos to print a fake one!”

“they know Mal, she already figured it out, that’s why she wanted (y/n), because with me in Auradon I could actually meet her demands easier”

Mal screamed in frustration. “fine!! I'll take my bike back and go tell the boys uuug why does shrimpy always have to make everything so difficult!”

=

You sat in the brig, slightly surprised by how clean it was.

“what, thought we were gonna throw you in the dirtiest cell we got?”

You looked to Uma and shrugged “I guess?”

Uma laughed and rolled her eyes “well I don't know what Malsy told ya, but we have a bit of honor among us pirates, besides, the better shape you're in, the more things well get in return”

She walked out of the brig, her heels sounded against the wood.

“sleep tight princess~”

--end of part 6 --

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[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-12-25

I’m not going to spend time BLOGGING an upd8 on Christmas morning!

...yes I am who the fuck am I kidding.  (Bonus stuff and Hiveswap are still well on hold though.)

So are we gonna follow up on the main ship?  Probably not, right, with that perfect Karkat point to cut away, right?  We’re just going to leave Roxy’s question hanging, as well as makeouts etiquette, and leave while having seen a COUPLE FRAMES of non-possessed canon Jade with only whatever fun fanart was inspired across the internet by the moment to tide us over????

Yeah, probably.

Ugh, more Dirk.  I guess it’s overdue.  :(

> CHAPTER 16. Welcome to my Secret Lair

Oh huh, I guess not?  So... Jane’s, or Rose and Kanaya’s?

Karkat stays for longer than John thought he would. They talk a bit, but mostly they are quiet. Eventually, Karkat gets called away on yet more important war business, leaving John with one final touch on the shoulder. John leans into it in response, though he’s a bit ashamed of chasing down a sliver of physical affection so soon after obliterating Karkat’s evening like he had.

Pretty much, yeah.  Can’t blame either of them.

When Karkat is finally gone, John still doesn’t move. It isn’t as though he has nowhere else to go, since there are quite a few places he might attempt to make himself useful, for better or for worse.

You’re still abandoning the task that was explicitly yours to protect your literal kid and his friends, but, oh well.  Low-point.  Dave dead, house dead, broke news, I get it.

He just doesn’t feel ready for that yet. The remnants of his house are still smoldering, and he can’t stop staring at them. It would make sense, he thinks, to want to root around through the rubble for anything that’s still intact; some half-charred keepsake to claim as the last thing left that’s still his. But he doesn’t want to do it, and he doesn’t want to think about it. And he still can’t move.

Can’t move.  No Breath huh?  What’s going to get him to, then?

> (==>)

Oh boy, that might help.  XD  She’s pretty good at that.

> (==>)

Still with the waistline gap.  And was his phone always yellow like his God-Tier shoes?

ROXY: hey john can u do me a quick solid ROXY: actly idk how quick itll be but its definitely solid ROXY: harry anderson says i just missed u being here but could u skip back on over?

Nice, huh!  No judgment, just a hey-any-chance-you-could-swing-back.  He sort of needs to be needed right now, in a simple, almost everyday non-judgmental way I guess.  (That’s what he NEEDED anyway-- whether he deserved it though is up for debate.)

ROXY: i need help w/smth and yr darling boy is holed up in his room working on some fuckin craft project or other and cant be bothered

YES SEW JOHN A BETTER FITTING FUCKING OUTFIT

ROXY: and now that me and u are freshly on speakin terms again i might as well take advantage of that olive branch and put u to work ROXY: assumin you havent died in an air raid, that is ROXY: which id also be interested in knowin about so if u wld be so kind as to reply instead of leavin me hangin

Heheheh.  Gosh Roxy is always the best.

JOHN: yea yea sorry im here. JOHN: i just had a hard time getting my phone out of these fucking tiny pants.

Hah.

JOHN: and also my house is bombed out so i'm kinda grappling with that. JOHN: but i honestly am not sure how much longer i need to sit around staring at it. trying to align my memories of my youth with whatever is happening right now so JOHN: short version is no i’m not dead, and yeah i can come back over there and help you out. ROXY: oh sweet yr alive and down to do manual labor its a win/win JOHN: see you soon.

Yep!  Pulled away from all the metaphorical, ultra-meaningful bullshit, back to some brass tacks with some easy humor.  Definitely something Roxy can do well.~

> (==>)

EXCUSE ME.  What is that outfit and pose.  Did you--

ROXY: sup ROXY: follow me ROXY: well were just going to my room so i guess technically u know the way JOHN: haha ok.

Did you invite him over for the manual labor of banging you while your son is sewing in the other room

Or maybe the labor is making him a new sibling.  JFC

Is this plan part of why we got the sudden content warning that was mocked or was that mainly for Hiveswap 

John follows, trying to shake the ominous feeling he got from what she’d just said. He’d been in and out of this house a lot in the past few days. Why should this be any different?

I DUNNO JOHN DOES THIS SEEM DIFFERENT TO YOU

> (==>)

Yea this seems like a fucc room.

JOHN: it’s not like i could forget! ROXY: ya i guess u only really saw the living room when you were here the other day but i have changed some stuff up ROXY: done a lil redecoratin here n there

So it’s MORE of a fucc room than previously >__>”

ROXY: may have to do a smidge more if my old bff decides im next on the list for bombing out ROXY: but so far so good

Ah geez.

ROXY: just a coupla exploded cars in the yard from some shenanigans our dear son and his friends were in but u kno it is what it is!!!

Well, that’ll buff out easy.

ROXY: can i get u anything? ROXY: just made some coffee JOHN: no, uh, i’m good.

Of course she has a fancy handled winecoffeeglass  (and the handle does look ridiculous but it’d be too hot to hold otherwise)

Roxy shrugs and swirls her own coffee around in her novelty mug. John looks around. A lot about the room is the same. The family photos, the rug. There’s a lot more cat stuff in there now, though. The bed is new. John feels like he’s about to take a test he hasn’t studied for. He makes himself focus on what she’s saying.

That would be the feeling.

> (==>)

MY GOD.  Roxy is so fucking good at this holy shit

She KNOWS she’s making him squirm and she loves it

JOHN: so uh anyway. JOHN: what was this favor? ROXY: yo why dont u just come rest yr tush for a bit ROXY: take a lil relax next 2 me here JOHN: haha uh. JOHN: roxy i uh. JOHN: im flattered, but i don’t know if that’s really the right step right now. JOHN: don’t get me wrong, everything seems so fucked up right now that when i try to think about what might actually BE the right step, it feels like a huge cartoon question mark might physically manifest over my head. JOHN: but I’m not sure if um rekindling our physical relationship is really the best--

So is Roxy trolling him, about to reveal she wasn’t thinking of sex and was just making things seem sultry?  Or just had “lol jk” as an option-select, maybe.

> (==>)

ROXY: r u kiddin me rn egbert JOHN: i’m not? unless you were, in which case yeah lets say i was also kidding. JOHN: oh my god, i’m sorry, i don’t know why this making me freak out.

OH NOOO NOT THE DISDAAAAIN - CRITICAL HIT D:

ROXY: i remember our past boot knockin with fondness but that is a situation im not interested in revisiting

boot knockin XD

ROXY: look john ROXY: i was trying to be polite about it ROXY: offering u sustenance n rest n all ROXY: but you look like shit ROXY: i just wanted to catch up on the whole heinous war situation were in and maybe check in on e/o before leaping strait to the real n actual nonsexual manual labor favor i have in mind for u JOHN: oh.

Hey, she can’t help looking sexy she’s too good at it.

Is the manual labor moving the crashed cars?  Can’t Roxy pull that off on her own, or... banish the cars to the void or something?  (Oh, but WOULD she want to do it on her own when she can rope in John and bring him down to earth by giving him a useful task?  And admittedly his strength and wallet would make things easier.)

John feels his shoulders unbunch. Of course. Yeah. He’s almost embarrassed by how relieved he feels. So what if his ex wife wanted to hook up? Shouldn’t that be a situation he could navigate? Don’t people like to find solace in human physical connection during dire times? Why did the idea of it make his mind white out in panic more than, say, any number of the traumas he just experienced?

Probably some gender stuff mixed up in there too, June.

He doesn’t know, but he believes Roxy that he must look pretty haggard. He probably feels haggard? Maybe sitting down will feel better.

Just put your feet up yeah

> (==>)

WHAT A CUTE IMAGE

JOHN: sorry. like i said, my "how to react to stuff" meter is completely fucked right now. ROXY: thats fair bud

she’s used to being patient with you don’t worry otherwise you never would’ve gotten this far

ROXY: real fast i do need to do a quick takeback of all that shit i said last time we talked about janey not being literally the most evil person we knew or whatever ROXY: i guess i was hopped up on arguin or somethin since that was before we hit our conversational vibe bc of course u were right and i shoulda listened

Ouch.  Yeah, we saw just lately just how far off the deep end she was.  (Where was that funny upd8 reaction art summarizing the bit where Kanaya was holding Tavros hostage and Jane was transparently debating “hmm do I let my son die?” and Kanaya and Tavros were just looking at each-other flat-mouthed nervous?  I REALLY wanted to share that but I don’t usually want to reblog or put most stuff HS^2 not under a read-more, for spoiler purposes, usually.)

ROXY: im just glad ur ok ROXY: or like alive JOHN: yeah, jury's still out on "ok" but, you know. ROXY: ya ROXY: u said ur house is gone?? JOHN: yep. JOHN: completely. ROXY: jeez ROXY: i would ask how ur feelin but like the answer 2 that has got 2b "prtty bad"

Talk it ouuuut~~  get those feels out there and articulated john

JOHN: yeah. JOHN: i mean. JOHN: no? JOHN: it’s weird. JOHN: it feels like it should be a bigger deal, I guess? JOHN: like it’s my HOUSE. JOHN: but mostly it always felt like my dad’s house? JOHN: and when i started living there after i moved out of here, it was like i crammed myself back into whatever was left of my kid self? JOHN: and it didn’t feel good, but it at least was familiar, you know? JOHN: like living there let me feel closer to my dad, trying to be like the way i remember him, or like how i remember him wanting me to be, or something? JOHN: and i didn’t realize how much i hated doing that until i saw it all go up in flames. JOHN: so i guess i could have used my powers to stop the fire and save whatever was left of the place, but i couldn’t bring myself to do it. JOHN: like some fucked up part of me was glad i got there too late? JOHN: so i just sat there, watching, trying to figure out why watching my house burn down felt like i was being released from prison. JOHN: and even now i keep trying to explain it away, as though it’s because of how fucked up everything else is that it made me feel good. JOHN: but that’s just bullshit. JOHN: it DID feel good. JOHN: i DO feel free. JOHN: sorry.

I was kind of saying some Breath/Blood stuff at the time of him losing his last tie to his stubborn sticking-to-his-kid-self bit?  Except now we’re mixing it in with June Egbert and his gender-identity questions too.

ROXY: no need 2 apologize ROXY: we just delved in2 my whole gender thing last time so it seems fine for u to have a turn JOHN: i didn’t say it was a gender thing.

Oh shit

ROXY: well no i just meant like i did some sharing ROXY: like referrin 2 the topic i brought up when we chatted last ROXY: but like now that u mention it ROXY: *meaningful pause* JOHN: … JOHN: i JOHN: ROXY: lol well we can move on 2 the favor part if youd rather ROXY: stick a lil pin in that topic n come back 2 it when u have had sleep

Are you just INCREDIBLY incisive Roxy or have you and John talked about this before?

ROXY: like i said the other day its not like this shits figureoutable in 1 sitting anyways JOHN: yeah... ROXY: sooooooo ROXY: movin on

It’s just fine for Roxy to slow-roll this yeah, if she’s going to pry open that door a little

ROXY: dont be mad but theres a part of the house u didnt know abt the whole time u lived here JOHN: what? ROXY: yea ROXY: i got a secret lair ROXY: for my sciences

OH FUCK YES SCIENCE LAB, of COURSE Roxy would want a cool science lab basement because she always wants a cool science lab basement

ROXY: and i get to it via a transportalizer underneath our bed ROXY: which is 2 heavy 2 move by my lonesome so i just needed to borrow some o your aforementioned powers of wind

Okay no.  Wait.  What the fuck?

First of all, as funny and MSPaintAdventures-y as furniture being in the way of things is, why would you block it with a bed too heavy to move, but,

Second of all, more importantly, how is a GOD-TIER ROXY not strong enough to lift a heavy bed?!?!?!?  Either she’s lying to get John involved in things or this is a gendered cop-out because these characters are superheroes at the TOP of their echeladders, given obnoxiously powerful video-game strength and athletics only to then have ascended into DEITIES.  God-Tier Roxy could probably have lifted a bed like that when she was SEVENTEEN!  And now she’s an ADULT, out-of-shape or otherwise!  If this were a whole CAR I might be willing to handwave it, but just a heavy BED?!?  And none of the GUYS are going to have this much trouble lifting a bed like this, are they??  This just feels like following classic cartoony gender tropes in the complete absence of these characters’ super powers, what the fuck, and also Roxy if you didn’t make it Transportalizer-only access you could have given it an entrance you could phase through with your fancy powers to get to.  FUCK.

This feels stupid.

ROXY: so if u dont mind woosh away JOHN: uh ok, well... JOHN: a secret science lair, sure, i can deal with that. JOHN: why not! JOHN: it doesn’t work out great when i do the windy thing indoors, though. ROXY: aight then no wind bending just use your mangrit

Roxy flexes, the corner of her mouth pulled up into a familiar grin. John feels his guts, so recently calmed, twist up into knots again. Her eyebrows shoot up and the smile loosens. He must have shown something on his face.

You’re already THIS sensitive about gendertalk?

ROXY: ok or just like push when i push ROXY: we both got sick muscles ROXY: no other adjectives necessary JOHN: yeah ok. ROXY: on 3?

Please, please reinforce the idea that they both have sick strength, because they fucking do and the idea that Roxy actually a hundred percent NEEDED John to do this is BS.

> (==>)

JOHN: holy shit? ROXY: sorry to lop yet another huge scoop onto ur lil brains ice cream revelation sundae JOHN: so wait, if this thing's always been under the bed, how’d you get down here before without me? ROXY: well thats neither here nor there john JOHN: i mean it is kinda. Here. ROXY: fine ok checkmate ROXY: i dont ACTUALLY need ur nerdgrit for this escapade ROXY: like im sorry but i said it ROXY: i mostly just wanted to see you and show u wats down here

THANK FUCKING CHRIST.

If that wasn’t actually just a lie to get him involved I was going to stay SO mad.  Of COURSE Roxy can move a fucking BED no matter how heavy it is.  OF COURSE.

ROXY: and also uve been ~sent for~ JOHN: ok but like ROXY: john i am inviting u 2 my inner sanctum ROXY: i am literally bringing out the word "sanctum" in case u werent already clued in 2 how cool this is ROXY: so do u wanna go into my secret lair or wat JOHN: yeah!? JOHN: yes? i guess? ROXY: aight good

Yes John of course you want to stop fighting it

ROXY: then as they told me in the hospital before lil h a was born ROXY: just push

eyeroll, but yeah, of course

> (==>)

Oh cool, sprite form version of her loungewear.

> (==>)

Sorry for my compulsion to post every full-frame image of Roxy in this awesome outfi-WERE YOU KEEPING CALLIOPE UNDER YOUR BED THIS WHOLE TIME?!?????

That’s like... almost a fucking metaphor isn’t it????  For the relationship you preferred in the other timeline and possibly THIS one TOO or

ROXY: hey callieee i got him ROXY: o damn john sorry i shoulda also told u callies here weve been hangin out again ROXY: 1 more freak for ur bean

Oh huh, so this isn’t an always thing.  And these two can get close in more than one timeline where it would’ve worked out nicely.  :)

JOHN: oh it's ok, my bean feels pretty well adjusted to freakage at this point so keep them coming if you like! ROXY: k cool i will JOHN: do i get to know what that big thing under the sheet is? ROXY: hmmmmmm no JOHN: oh ok. JOHN: are you sure? i mean, it seems like a pretty prominent feature of the room. JOHN: space. JOHN: wherever we are. ROXY: and a totally mysterious n COMPLETELY inconspicuous feature it will have to remain for now ROXY: we r kinda in a hurry here fyi ROXY: and by that i mean ROXY: we are in precisely the amount of hurry that means im excused from having to a that specific q rn JOHN: right, sorry. JOHN: i will pay no attention to the object behind the curtain. ROXY: u catch on fast egbert ROXY: anyway theres more cool info coming so just follow me

I don’t have any big theories.  Is it just the Hiveswap device or something?  If Calliope helped with it it’d help explain the Cherubic theme.

> (==>)

JOHN: so... this is all downstairs? JOHN: it seems like you had a lot of work done. ROXY: well no not x actly ROXY: were in the old meteor JOHN: under the house??? ROXY: ok so ROXY: in hindsight it may have been a bit misleading 2 say like ROXY: "downstairs" ROXY: in reference to a place which is hells of buried underground and may not actually be literally under the house ROXY: but there is no time to explain all that rn john so instead im going to refer u to my adorable little green friend here CALLIOPE: #U_U# ROXY: (hehe) CALLIOPE: *AHEM* CALLIOPE: hi john! CALLIOPE: long time no see. ^u^

Cherubs just really like dark cavelike places full of weird tech don’t they.

> (==>)

THEY’RE SO CUTE

JOHN: oh, uh. hey callie! JOHN: it sure has been a while huh. JOHN: now that i think about it, the last time the three of us hung out like this... CALLIOPE: was when i was aggressively third wheeling yoUr prenUptial coUrtship? CALLIOPE: if yoU dont mind, john, i'd rather not rehash that period of oUr lives. CALLIOPE: it was more than a little painfUl for me. JOHN: oh. JOHN: god, jeez, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to-- CALLIOPE: hee hee john i am only pUlling yoUr leg, don't worry. CALLIOPE: if anything i was personally a little thrilled with how things shook oUt in that respect. CALLIOPE: imagine, if yoU will, a yoUng cherUb raised in solitUde, whose only solace was the convolUted and tUmUltUoUs romantic schemata she projected onto her only friends from another Universe. CALLIOPE: and then fUrther imagine that this yoUng cherUb, throUgh varioUs even *more* convolUted contrivances, ended Up in the company of those selfsafe friends as an eqUal participant in their sphere of social discoUrse! CALLIOPE: it is a joy the like of which yoU possibly cannot fathom. u_u

Reinforcing that things turning out this way was in fact the FANTASY that Calliope was writing over in the Canon timeline.  Just, heavily, HEAVILY implied that the Candy timeline is -- or at least originated as -- Calliope’s fanfiction as a Muse of Space, and its competition for audience interest with canon is the essential conflict between alt!Calliope and Dirk (or Dirk and Andrew Hussie).

CALLIOPE: so to pUt it simply, getting to experience sUch emotional drama myself was an impossibly enriching experience. CALLIOPE: possibly a first for my species! CALLIOPE: it's actUally qUite interesting, if yoU ROXY: *nudge* CALLIOPE: oh, right. yes. i'm getting a little carried away, haha. CALLIOPE: argh, i'm sorry, this is not how i planned to begin this vital conversation.

Vital conversation?  What sorta truth-bombs are coming?

CALLIOPE: but to sUmmarise, what i was trying to say is: CALLIOPE: don't beat yourself Up aboUt it john. CALLIOPE: besides, hUman divorces are even more fascinating than i had ever imagined, and being able to witness yoUrs in motion was an honoUr. CALLIOPE: so i consider Us aboUt even at this point. JOHN: hahaha!!! JOHN: okay, well that's good to know! CALLIOPE: ^u^

Holy SHIT that was savage!  And we’ll NEVER know whether or not she really intended it so savagely, either.~

JOHN: so um... JOHN: i hear that there's this big secret thing you wanna tell me about? CALLIOPE: oh right, yes of course! CALLIOPE: let me jUst say first of all how thrilled i am that yoU're on board. CALLIOPE: i wasn't sUre if yoUr natUral inclinations woUld have preclUded yoUr coming to such a place as this, and yet here yoU are. CALLIOPE: this whole endeavoUr will be *so* mUch easier with yoUr help.

Uh oh.

Hopefully babies aren’t involved.

JOHN: oh! well, shucks. JOHN: not really sure what that means but i'm just glad to be of use somewhere, haha. JOHN: which, speaking of somewhere, CALLIOPE: ah right, right. yoU're probably a little cUrioUs as to where the dickens we are. CALLIOPE: how much do yoU know aboUt black holes? JOHN: um... like, the big space things? CALLIOPE: they aren't always big actUally, and in fact their relative smallness is practically their defining qUality. JOHN: oh. CALLIOPE: bUt okay i think we are on the same page. CALLIOPE: so, what if i told yoU that we are inside of a black hole right now.

Oh dear, we’re getting into the canon/noncanon divide?

JOHN: um... JOHN: like, HERE? JOHN: we just transportalized into a black hole? CALLIOPE: no, i mean, what if oUr whole WORLD was inside a black hole. JOHN: ok.

Yeah, that’s gonna be John’s reaction.  “ok.”  Pretty much inevitable.

CALLIOPE: earth c, or at least oUr version of it, has, from the moment we crossed the victory threshold, been inside a black hole. JOHN: ok. CALLIOPE: and not just any black hole, bUt the very black hole in which the green sUn Ultimately met its demise, allowing oUr victory in the first instance! JOHN: huh! ROXY: ("huh!") ROXY: (rofl my fucking ao egbert) JOHN: (shhhh!)

And Roxy enjoys his non-reaction reactions as much as we do, hehe.

CALLIOPE: bUt, paradoxically, the critical moment which determined its capture within the black hole happened *after* that point. CALLIOPE: i refer of coUrse to yoUr decision not to retUrn to the mediUm and fight my brother. JOHN: wait, wait. JOHN: you mean, the meat and candy thing? JOHN: oh my god. JOHN: you mean i actually DID make a mistake that day. CALLIOPE: well, that's not exactly what that-- JOHN: ugh, i fucking KNEW it! JOHN: i'm so sorry. JOHN: i'm so sorry that i put the earth inside a black hole everyone. ): ROXY: john ROXY: listen ROXY: u have got to get out of this mindset i am begging you JOHN: ):

Yeah shake him out of this shit.

ROXY: your choice literally didnt matter ROXY: the whole thing was symbolic in the first place ROXY: literally symbolic in the case of the picnic i mean come on ROXY: it was just some steak and a plate of candy suckers JOHN: oh. CALLIOPE: i mean, i wouldn't go so far as to say that the meal we shared was unimportant, given the sacred significance of the two options i presented. CALLIOPE: but yes, yoUr choice of snack was infinitely less important than the choice which it presaged. CALLIOPE: and even then, calling it a choice woUld be sorely misleading. CALLIOPE: think of it like a coin flip. CALLIOPE: the series of events that led to Us being trapped beyond the event horizon of an Ubermassive black hole could be considered "tails", while the events which would have occUrred otherwise could be considered "heads". CALLIOPE: since both were possible, and paradox space is the way it is, they actUally both happened. and we jUst "happened" (hee hee) to get tails instead of heads. JOHN: you mean we ended up with the bad possibility. CALLIOPE: not at all! since both possibilities depend on one another's existence, it really doesn't make sense to call them "right" or "wrong". they both just "are". JOHN: o...kay... CALLIOPE: u_u

Yeah, it’s going to take a bit more than that to convince him he didn’t make the “wrong decision”.

CALLIOPE: i realise that this may be a lot to process. CALLIOPE: it's easy to forget that this wasn't obvioUs to everyone from the beginning. CALLIOPE: anyway, the reason i went on this tangent in the first place was to explain that the space we are standing in right now has a special significance, in that it is the location which corresponds to the black hole's singUlarity. JOHN: oh, wow. JOHN: um. JOHN: ok so, sorry if this is a dumb question to ask suddenly, but what does being inside of a black hole actually... mean for us? JOHN: is that bad? JOHN: is it like in movie, um, JOHN: shoot. JOHN: roxy what was that matthew mcconaughey movie from your earth that we watched? ROXY: u mean interstellar JOHN: RIGHT. JOHN: the one with the organ. JOHN: man. i cried at that movie so much. ROXY: lol u can say that again ROXY: iirc at least part of y u got so weepy was the fact that u couldnt believe a version of earth existed where ppl got 2 watch more mcconaughey films than you JOHN: listen. JOHN: i simply don't think you all appreciated the gift you were given. CALLIOPE: i don't believe i'm familiar with this particular film ^u^;; ROXY: oh dont worry cal you didnt miss much JOHN: (gasp)

This is all gold

ROXY: but the important point is that no its not really an interstellar type situation here egbert ROXY: ur not gonna enter a weird time vortex and change the trajectory of a little girls life with the power of love JOHN: aw.

Dammit, now we have to be on the lookout for that possibility.  Or it did sort of already happen more than once to John.  ...Whatever.

CALLIOPE: to go back to your original question, john. CALLIOPE: it's not strictly speaking "bad" for Us to be inside of a black hole, mUch thoUgh that contradicts most of what anyone knows about them. CALLIOPE: of coUrse, if we had fallen into it, that woUld be a whole other kettle of fish. CALLIOPE: the tidal forces woUld have stretched Us all into spaghetti and then ripped us apart! CALLIOPE: bUt the natUre of oUr arrival was more akin to simply "being" here, sUddenly. one moment we were not, and the next moment we were, and somehow always had been. CALLIOPE: in everyday, practical terms, being inside of a black hole has very little bearing on Us. CALLIOPE: i mean, the natUre of space and time is a little finicky in here, bUt for the most part it doesn't seem to be anything too oUt of the ordinary. CALLIOPE: bUt beyond that, it means that we are sealed away from the rest of existence. CALLIOPE: oUr sphere of inflUence is limited to the sphere of the black hole's bounding horizon. CALLIOPE: as far as everyone else is concerned, we might as well not even exist! JOHN: is there no way we could let anyone know that we're in here...? CALLIOPE: almost certainly not!

No?  So this doesn’t have to do with the divide?

CALLIOPE: there are very few ways for anything to escape the kind of predicament that we are in right now. one of them is to be an all-powerfUl being with control over the very fabric of space, with the energy of two Universes at yoUr disposal. CALLIOPE: in which case, escape woUld become rather trivial, if a little Unscientific. JOHN: ok. i am going to assume that we can't just do that. CALLIOPE: yoU've hit the nail on the head, UnfortUnately. U_U CALLIOPE: the method i described was the one employed by my alternate self, who yoU may recall crashed through the event horizon in the body that once belonged to jade harley. CALLIOPE: she departed through a pUnctUre she created in the black hole's surface shortly after consUming my brother, a deed which provided her with the necessary "oomph", and which was frankly rather breathtaking to watch. =u= CALLIOPE: bUt Upon her departUre, the rift closed for good. as far as i can see, there's simply no way for Us to commUnicate with the world oUtside the black hole.

What the heck?  Calliope SAW all this?  Is this her Muse powers at work, letting her observe these things, or was she there?  And John certainly did NOT see ANY of what Calliope just said happen.

CALLIOPE: i woUld certainly be very sUrprised to find oUt that anyone had managed sUch a thing!

So we’re going to find that out if we haven’t already.  Maybe something to do with the way Vrissy just conks out narcoleptically?

JOHN: ...right. JOHN: so... let me just get this straight. JOHN: knowing that we're inside of a black hole... does that actually change anything? JOHN: like, can't we just go on living like normal? CALLIOPE: oh absolUtely not. CALLIOPE: i don't know if yoU've noticed john bUt this world is on the brink of a total cataclysm. JOHN: oh.

Um, what?

CALLIOPE: oUr exclUsion from the overarching coUrse of events which governs all reality means that oUr existence here is liable to dramatic and violent Upheaval. CALLIOPE: to pUt it another way, becaUse nothing in here "matters", we are likely to be sUbjected to things which are a bit bats in the belfry, for no reason other than it's totally insignificant to the wider canon of reality. CALLIOPE: and mUch thoUgh i am personally titillated by some of the conseqUences of this predicament, it is a degrading way for Us to live. u_u JOHN: that's... certainly one way to put it, yeah...

No plot-armor for your entire timeline, I guess, yep.  Outside of canon, we can imagine and write about ANYTHING happening to the characters, or just drop their existence entirely, much like a doomed offshoot timeline.  It’s a plot stability that depended heavily on the threat of Lord English and being trapped in a story, and without it things are bound to see a BIT chaotic (or “degrading” if you view it as subjected to the whims of fanfic writers, certainly).

CALLIOPE: at first, i believed that this was simply necessary. Us playing tails to oUr coUnterparts' heads, the black to their white, and so forth. CALLIOPE: bUt over the years i have come to the conclUsion that this is simply not kosher. ROXY: its total bs is what it is CALLIOPE: right, yes. CALLIOPE: a steaming pile of bUllshite. CALLIOPE: and so we have decided that something needs to be done aboUt it.

Ah fuck.  You’re going to regulate non-canon?  “Canonize” it?  Is the fact that you eventually succeed at whatever it is you’re trying to do part of why we have the story presented to us in this bifurcated structure?

ROXY: this is finally where u come in jegbert ROXY: we gots quests for yous CALLIOPE: hee hee, yes. CALLIOPE: or *a* quest, to be specific. JOHN: oh boy! ROXY: (this fkin nerd i s2g)

Roxy and Calliope setting him on this quest as a Rogue of Void and a Muse of Space feels fitting.

JOHN: i'm not sure how i can go about freeing us from a hellish space prison, but i'm up for giving it a try i guess? JOHN: i have... literally nothing better to be doing at this point. except for maybe hanging out with harry anderson. ROXY: nice save lol

YEAH WE’RE STILL GLOSSING OVER HOW YOU LEFT HIM UNPROTECTED, JERK

ROXY: but u dont need to worry abt busting us outta space jail tbh ROXY: thats not ur problem to fix JOHN: oh. JOHN: i'm... not sure i follow, then. ROXY: i mean yeah ur gonna obvs facilitate it in a sense ROXY: but only by going and busting the person who can actually help us outta normal earth jail CALLIOPE: we need yoU to free vriska from the clUtches of oUr misgUided friend jane, and bring her here, to the singUlarity. ROXY: weve been calling it the plot point CALLIOPE: yes, the plot point is a key part of oUr plan. CALLIOPE: as far as we have been able to sUrmise, the only remaining method for escaping oUr grim confinement depends on leveraging the UniqUe properties of this location to create an event of sUch catalcysmic proportions that it simply cannot be contained within the black hole any more. CALLIOPE: something SO dramatic, so hyper-relevant, that it becomes ontologically impossible for anyone to ignore it. CALLIOPE: for that, we need an individUal of sUfficient narrative cloUt, so to speak. CALLIOPE: and to liberate her, who better than the embodiment of the aspect of freedom itself? CALLIOPE: ... CALLIOPE: phew. okay, i'm finished. CALLIOPE: CALLIOPE: sorry, that took longer than i expected to go throUgh.

..............................

OOooooh, kay.

Whatever this is, it’s going to be really weird and PROBABLY infuriating and/or shippy, and I’m probably not going to like it.  Plus it seems like it’s some sort of inverse belated canonization of some other black-hole-rescue theories I went on about at some point.  Although, related to that link, “aspect of freedom” if anyone wasn’t paying attention!  That’s a (sorta-)canon mention of the purpose of it!

They’re going to attention-wh-- attention-hog themselves out of the black hole so that they’re “considered canon” too, or close enough.  Huh.

ROXY: what r u talking about cals that was great ROXY: i could listen 2 u plotsplain for years CALLIOPE: oh you >u< ROXY: fyi this was why i wanted u to get a move on eggbread ROXY: so callie could have more time 2 infodump ROXY: thats love bitchhhhhh JOHN: hahaha. JOHN: ok, well, i think i understood all that?

Love with who? Callie, John, both?

In reality, John isn’t sure what most of this means. But on balance, it feels okay? He’s gone back and forth about a hundred times in the last week about where his place in everything is, so he might as well ride this out. Plus, the last time a Lalonde kind of told him to do something, he thinks that he chose not to, and look where that got him. And it’s not like he has other plans. He may as well do this! It’s at least going to get him involved in things again, if nothing else. He turns to go, and then hears a sound. It’s the sound of feet and knocking on doors, echoed through stone and digital static.

Oh shit.  Is Andrew trapped behind some fourth walls behind the curtains.

> (==>)

Oh RIGHT also that DEVICE is where they want to bring Vriska.  Are they going to overturn part of canon itself with a super-retcon thus making this timeline unbelievably relevant or--?  Maybe make all the PESTERQUESTS canon or something?!  I don’t know.  Maybe they’re INTENTIONALLY starting the game like Vriska wanted to??????

Guh, this is something so big that I don’t WANT to theorize about it, do I.

JOHN: did you hear that? ROXY: wha ROXY: oh yeah uh ROXY: i may have messaged rose and kan and jade to check on them too ROXY: so its prob onea them showin up ROXY: they don’t need to know bout all this tho ROXY: we got time to chat with them b4 u go get vriska

No, even if it’s a knock at the somehow-top-level-house-even-under-buried-- oh, right, maybe it’s covering in part a monitoring system that looks up there.  But still, part of that sound was DOUBTLESS these two hiding something, all standing in front of the curtain like that.

JOHN: i’ll go stall em. ROXY: thx babe ROXY: oh is it 2 soon for that joke or JOHN: no, weirdly enough, that one’s fine. ROXY: oh good ok see u up there soon!

How is calling your significant other “babe” not cool REGARDLESS of gender?!  Like wasn’t that always cool? --Oh wait is it because they’re not together or... but... guh, I don’t know.

Anyway, see y’all after the holidays at least.

[horansqueen]

You & Me : chapter 12

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his. -4.9k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

- notes: i hope it sorta hit a bit? does it sting? it had to happen sorry! i cant wait to write the next chapter 😭

if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)

requests! : i didnt add the “never have i ever” suggestions that i used but THANK YOU if you sent some, i used a few! also, i had other requests and ideas from people and i may use them a bit later, in a future chapter. actually i know when ill use them lol youll see :)

Chapter 12 : Her chapter

OLIVIA

"Shit, I don't know what to wear!" I exclaimed to myself as i put clothes in front of me, standing next to to mirror. "Horrible."

I threw the shirt away, aiming for the bed but it fell next to it and I didn't even send it a glance as I took an other one.placing it on my chest and tilting my head at my reflection. I glanced up when I saw Louis walk by and stop immediately, holding himself on the door frame with a smirk.

"Put a skirt on." he let out, making me raise my eyebrows. "It'll be easier for him to fuck you against the wall."

My eyes got smaller and I reached out for my tissue box before throwing it his way. He moved right on time and it hit the wall in a thug, making him laugh.

"Don't be so violent!" he smirked, walking in my room and leaning on the wall. "I'm just saying out loud what you think about late at night, if you know what I mean."

I turned to him, opening my eyes wide and shaking my head. I couldn't believe Louis was talking about me masturbating to the thought of my ex boyfriend like it was nothing.

"Oh my god, shut up!" I let out with a chuckle. "You're so annoying!"

"Look, I woke up and he was getting out of your room." Louis pointed out. "He spent the night with you. In your bed. Wearing nothing but BOXERS!"

"We just slept." I argued with a shrug, trying not to show him that the thought of Niall almost naked in bed with me was actually doing something to me. "I was sick, remember?"

"Yea, you were 'sick'" he repeated, pronouncing the last word louder and adding fake quotation marks with his fingers.

"I was! A few of your sushis weren't good, Lou." I explained, throwing an other shirt away and grabbing a new pair of jeans. "You know it's true, I heard you vomit in the middle of the night, too."

"That's not the point." he explained, getting suddenly a lot more serious than he normally is. "Olivia, you should break up with Dylan." I stopped dead in my track and even stopped breathing. My heart, though, was beating extremely hard against my rib cage and it's all I could hear. "Did you even think about him recently? He's not here and you don't even seem to miss him, especially not when Niall is around."

I did think about Dylan, though, but I didn't talk about my thoughts, mostly because I felt fucking guilty about almost everything that came to my mind. I felt like shit towards my boyfriend but I didn't have the guts to tell him that I was getting closer and closer to Niall. I didn't know how to tell him that spending time with Niall had been some sort of relief in my life, that being able to be around Niall again was making me generally happier, that when I was near him, I felt more alive. There was no good way to tell that to the man you were about to marry, not without hurting him.

"I love Dylan and I miss him, you know that damn well, Louis." I argued, feeling tears coming to my eyes. "But Niall is... Niall is Niall. Niall is the love of my life."

Louis uncrossed his arms and walked closer as I closed my eyes. I didn't want to look at him. I didn't want to face reality at all. I wanted to spend time with Niall and pretend I would be able to resist him the next time he'd try to kiss me. I wanted to pretend that I was going totally okay with watching Niall and Heidi get married and have kids at some point in the future while i'd do the same with Dylan. I wanted to believe I didn't have to break an incredible man’s heart because of my own disgusting selfishness... that everything was fine and that what was happening between Niall and I was perfectly normal.

"I know he is." Louis said gently, placing his hands on my upper arms from behind. "I see you two interact and it's so obvious, Olivia. The way you two connect it's... it's probably terrifying for Dylan and Heidi, you know?"

I opened my eyes and sniffed before swallowing the lump in my throat. I was not going to cry. There was no fucking way I was going to cry now and ruin my make up. We didn't connect, and we wouldn't connect on that night, I was going to make sure of it.

"Don't worry, I'll be okay. I'll prove to you and everyone else that Niall and I are only friends, you'll see."

I was mostly trying to convince myself of that but I just reached out to my wardrobe and grabbed a skirt, like Louis had proposed. I was going to have fun tonight and nothing else.

"Liv, don't be like that."

I turned to Louis and shook my head slightly.

"I'm not losing Dylan, okay? I can't. Do you know what are the chances for me to find an other man like him? Kind, sweet, smart, funny and who truly loves me? I've risked my relationship enough, don't you think?"

"So last night, when Niall joined you in your bed, you didn't feel anything?" he asked a bit harshly, raising his eyebrows at me. "I saw him take care of you when you were puking your guts out, you know?"

"You don't base a romantic relationship on lust, Louis. You should know that." I shook my head, searching my drawers for a shirt. "Niall always took care of me, since we were kids. It's nothing new. And it means nothing."

Louis stayed there, motionless and quiet as I picked my clothes and when he realized I wouldn't look at him again, he sighed.

"We're leaving in 10 minutes." he turned around and walked to the door as I swallowed my tears again. "And Liv? I love you. I want what's best for you. My opinion is just that, an opinion but... I don't think you'll ever be happy if you're not with Niall. I don't think he'll ever be happy without you either."

                                                       ---

The bar was crowded but we reached a quiet spot on the second floor, in the back of the room. Everyone was arrived and I couldn't stop glancing at Niall, who ended up sitting next to me. Now that he was close, all the bullshit I had told Louis earlier didn't seem so important anymore. Nothing ever seemed more important than Niall, and it was a problem.

Louis came back with a pitcher and sat on the other side of me with Eleanor while Harry, Liam and Julie sat on the other side of the table. I didn't know where Harry's girlfriend was, or if he even was with her anymore. We had told each other we would remain friends but things change and we drifted apart. I sighed low, a bit nostalgic of that friendship before we all started drinking. I was getting drunk and from the way Niall's eyes sparkled, I felt like he was getting there, too. Or maybe it was just that I was so drunk I was starting to imagine things.

I could feel the skin of his arm brush against mine and I cleared my throat, trying to stop thinking about it before turning around to send him a smile.

"So where's your girlfriend?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"Oh she'll be here soon."

I didn't expect this answer and raised my eyebrows as my lips parted. I didn't want to see her, and it was not only because we didn't get along. Most of all, I didn't want to see her all over Niall the way she had been when they invited us for dinner. Why was I so ready to prove everyone that I was able to resist my ex boyfriend but as soon as he was near, I couldn't handle myself?

"Okay, let's play a game!" Liam said, tapping the table a few times with his palm. "Truth or Dare?"

"No no, 'never have I ever'!" Louis argued, making me raise my nose up in a grimace.

These games never ended well, at least most of the time, except that one time where I decided to just kiss Harry, but a few minutes later, Niall had kissed a girl too and that was not a good ending, at least not to me.

"Okay, I found questions online!" Eleanor let out with a chuckle. "If you've done it, you take a sip, and no one lies!"

"Yea, I'll call you out if I see one of you lie!" Louis agreed, making my heart skip a beat.

I was screwed.

"Never have I ever... drunk-dialed an ex!"

I held my breath and started nibbling on my bottom lip. So many times, I had wanted to call Niall when I was drunk but every time, Louis was there to snatch the phone out of my hands. I glanced when I saw Niall drink and I wondered who he had tried to call. I had never received a phone call or a text message from him after we broke up, so I knew it was not me, and somehow, it made me jealous. He missed an ex so much that he called her... did that mean he never really missed me?

"Never have I ever... stolen someone's food!"

"Louis! You drink!" I let out, my eyebrows raised. "You always eat all my fucking left-overs!"

"What? Nah."

"He does!" Eleanor agreed with me with a chuckle, hitting him gently with her elbow.

He groaned but finally took a long sip of his beer, making me smile more.

"Okay, never have I ever... called a partner the wrong name during sex!"

I chuckled but felt my heart jump in my chest when I noticed Niall taking a long sip of his drink. We all looked at him and started laughing and he simply shrugged.

"I was drunk, I didn't know the girl's name!" he argued, laughing too.

I let my eyes roam on his face, wondering who exactly was that girl and if she had been someone he had sex with after he left me but I didn't dare to ask.

"Never have I ever.... lied to a law enforcement officer."

I laughed when I saw Louis drink and Liam started laughing, his eyebrows raised.

"Wait what? What was the lie?" he asked curiously, leaning slightly against the table.

"He lied to get out of a ticket." I replied, rolling my eyes.

"Why? Because he was going too slow?"

Everyone started laughing and Louis grimaced before flipping Liam off, making everyone laugh even more. I leaned closer to Louis and kissed his cheek gently before he wiped my kiss vigorously from his skin.

"Traitor!" he whispered as I chuckled, blowing him an other kiss.

"Never have I ever... sent nudes."

Without thinking, my eyes found Harry immediately and his did too. We stared at each other for a few seconds before our lips curled. I grabbed my drink and took a sip as he did the same, just like Julie, Liam and Louis.

"Did you send nudes to your boyfriend or your ex boyfriend, Olivia?"

I sent a mean glance at Louis and he smirked, making me know he was getting back at me for the last question.

"One time, Harry, Niall and I played 'truth or dare' and Harry asked me if I had ever taken nudes. I guess we continued that conversation a bit later and.. shared.. selfies..."

Louis' eyes got bigger and he pressed his lips together, knowing he had made things a bit awkward but finding it funny anyway. I glanced at Niall, noticing he was staring at me, and finally cleared my throat, asking El for the next question.

"Never have I ever.... hooked up with someone of the same sex or gender."

My eyes once again found Harry. I knew we were pretty much the only one who didn't want to label ourselves around the table and I brought my drink closer to him. He smiled and clinked his glass against mine before we both took a sip.

"You guys have no idea what you're missing." he let out after swallowing, making us laugh.

"Oh my god, Liv, you're gonna love this one. Never have I ever had food poisoning."

I laughed and took a sip, pushing the side of my body against Louis'. He groaned and took a sip and when I turned around, I noticed Niall frowned. I moved closer, holding my breath to make sure I wouldn't smell his incredible scent, and smiled a bit.

"Last night, Louis got sick because of his sushis, too."

I saw an emotion pass on Niall's face and his lips finally curled before he chuckled. Was that relief? I nibbled on my bottom lip when I remembered what he had asked me in the middle of the night and the right corner of my lips raised. I didn't know why he didn't want me to be pregnant with Dylan's baby but I liked it.

"Never have I ever been the subject of a rumor that wasn’t true." Eleanor read with a big smile. "Oh god, I think we can all drink!"

We all laughed and ended up finishing our glasses, handing each other the pitchers to fill them back again. I almost choked on the sip I was taking when Heidi arrived and she quickly sat next to Niall, making something stir in my stomach. I closed my eyes tight when she kissed him and I felt Louis' hand on my arm.

"It's okay to be hurt, love." he whispered. "If it matters, she's got nothing on you. She's also doing that to get to you."

I breathed in and out slowly before opening my eyes again. I noticed Heidi looking at me and sending me a sly smile that really bothered me.

"I'll get shots!"

Harry left with Liam and the whole time they were gone, I played with my fingers nervously. I felt like the whole evening was ruined because of her but I couldn't let that get to me, right? As soon as the guys put the shots in the middle of the table, I grabbed one and swallowed it quickly, followed by Louis.

"Wait, guys! This is for the game!" Harry explained. "And it's a surprise, you don't know what you drink!"

That's when I noticed the huge amount of shots on the table and raised my eyebrows just as Eleanor read the next question.

"Never have I ever... caught someone masturbating."

I held my breath and my eyes got bigger. I didn't want to turn to Niall but it was stronger than me. He was already looking at me and he chuckled.

"One time, when I was 13, Liv caught me masturbating. She just walked in my room without knocking!"

I smiled and pressed my lips together but my smile faltered when I realized he had no idea that I had caught him masturbating last time I actually slept at his place. The sight of him jerking off flashed in my mind and I gripped my glass tighter until I heard his voice again.

"Oh and remember at the lodge?" he asked with a smirk. "I came back in the room the first day we got there and-”

"Nooo! Shut up!"

I moved closer to him, trying to press my hand over his mouth but he dodged me and ended up just holding my wrist as he finished his sentence.

"And I caught Olivia masturbating in the dark, in our room!"

"Oh my god I hate you." I groaned, leaning my forehead on the table as I heard laughter. "That was a secret!"

"Was it though?" Niall asked, his lips dangerously close to my ear.

I held my breath and waited a few seconds to look up, noticing Louis had given a shot to Niall and was now handing me one. I drank it quickly, turning the glass around and putting it on the table. Tequila, ouch.

"Never have I ever... tried anal sex."

Once again, I closed my eyes and groaned, bringing one of my hands on my face as Niall laughed next to me. I was really going to get drunk. I reached for two shots and handed one to Niall who just chuckled and drank it fast. I did it took and raised my nose up. Sambuca. I hated that.

"Wow, who the hell are you?" Louis asked, raising his eyebrows while looking at me. "Little wild thing. Can't believe you let him!"

It was not my first time trying anal but I decided not to mention it. The truth was, when I was dating Niall, I would have done anything for him. There was no limit, as long as he stayed with me and was happy, it was all that mattered to me. I suddenly felt the urge to kiss him and held my breath as I stared at him. My heart was hitting so hard against my rib cage I thought it was just going to escape. Literally. It was ridiculous. I was not ready to do anything for anyone anymore, except myself. That's how things should be.

"Never have I ever... hooked up with an ex’s friend."

Once again, I knew I had to drink. Not everyone in the room knew that I had slept with Louis and I thought maybe it would be better if I didn't drink at all but the worst would be if I hesitated. If I just drank, they could believe it was an other ex than Niall but if I didn't seem sure, they'd know I was not at ease and it would be suspicious. I rolled my eyes, realizing I was going a bit too far in my thoughts and just grabbed an other shot, swallowing it quickly. I felt Louis' hand squeeze my thigh and my lips curled slightly. He knew and it was enough for me.

"Never have I ever... tried to make an ex jealous."

I sighed and took an other shot, shaking my head.

"We need to find questions that won't force me to get so drunk I won't be able to walk in half an hour!" I argued with a chuckle, watching as Niall grabbed a shot too.

I was starting to hate this game, if only for the fact that all I did was drink and check if Niall would drink too and if he did, I'd just spend a few minutes wondering who it was about and what exactly it meant. I glanced at Heidi, thinking she should probably drink but didn't and I rolled my eyes.

I never really had tried to make Niall jealous but I had hoped for it. I was not getting married to make him regret leaving me, but when I noticed his reaction when he found out and stormed out of the cafe, I couldn't pretend it didn't do anything to me. It did. I liked it. It gave me hope. Hope for what? I was not sure.

"Never have I ever... second-guessed a relationship."

I was getting pissed at myself for letting all his simple gestures and actions get to me. I loved him, I loved him so fucking bad it was driving me insane, but there was no way I was going back to being the 'no-back-bone-and-fucking-blind' girl I used to be when we were dating. I didn't want that. I reached for a shot and placed it in front of Niall a bit roughly, spilling a few drops of what I believed was rum, or at least, it smelled like it.

"Do you need only one?"

Somehow, everyone stopped talking and although I should feel guilty, I really couldn't. I was past the tipsy stage and a few memories were coming back to my mind. I also didn't enjoy Heidi's presence and the way she was so close to him. Niall looked down and licked his lips, waiting a few seconds before drinking the shot and pushing the glass away. Eleanor cleared her throat and I just shook my head with a sigh.

"Uhm, never have I ever cheated on a partner."

I closed my eyes again but this time for a complete different reason. I thought about the first time Niall touched me. I could almost still feel his fingertips brush on my skin before he had pushed them inside me. I can't remember being this excited ever in my whole life. This time, I didn't have to say anything. Niall just reached out to grab a shot and swallowed it.

"Not on Liv, right?"

Niall turned to Louis and shook his head.

"No. With her." My eyes moved to Heidi's hand who gripped Niall's arm tighter sinking her nails in his skin. I couldn't help but think she did that when they fucked, too.  "It was back when I was with Maya."

I noticed Harry was looking at me with a frown and I just shook my head slightly, answering his silent question. He nodded and his lips curled a bit as I answered his smile. No, I had no cheated on Harry. I wouldn't have done that, not even for Niall... right?

"It was... unplanned." Niall added, making me press my lips together.

The memory was so vivid, probably due to the alcohol and mixed with the proximity of Niall's body, that I had to get up and go to the bathroom. As I got up, I realized how drunk I was and tried to walk straight. I didn't like to show I was drunk and I was not sure why but when I got out of the bathroom, Louis was leaning against the wall, waiting for me.

"El and I are leaving, we've got a brunch in her family tomorrow morning, so I'll sleep at her place." he explained with a frown. "Are you okay? We can give you a ride home if you want."

"No, thank you." I shook my head. "I'll just take a cab."

"No, no cab by yourself. One of those fuckers will bring you home when you'll be ready. I'll make sure of it. And if anything happens, you call me."

I nodded and he pulled me into a hug, making me close my eyes. I wanted to tell him that I missed him, and that I missed having sex with him, but it was a lie. What I actually missed was to be close to someone, and I sort of felt like I was losing him, somehow. Soon, we were not going to live together anymore and I had no idea if I was okay with that.

"Sorry for that game, although it went better than you thought, right?"

I chuckled and pulled away before nodding. He sent me a wink and told me goodnight and I watched him leave before sighing and walking back to the table with difficulty. Liam and Julie were getting up too and I frowned, tilting my head when I got closer.

"Are you guys leaving too?"

"Yea, we're both a bit tired." Julie explained.

They said their goodbyes to everyone and I ended up sitting next to Harry and in front of Niall. I watched as Heidi talked in his ear with a smirk and I glanced down to watch her arm disappear, realizing she probably had her hand on his thigh, or even somewhere else. I looked away and swallowed at the intense feeling of jealousy invading me.

"Oh, Olivia, I know you'll be alone tonight, would you rather sleep home?"

I frowned at Heidi, a bit surprised about her proposition and licked my lips, trying to find a reason why she would actually want me to be with both of them at his place. To show me he belonged to her, perhaps? To keep on being all over him in front of me?

"No it's okay, she can come home." Harry just said, getting up and grabbing his phone. "I'm alone tonight, too."

"It's cool, Harry. She'll sleep at mine." Niall quickly replied, getting up to. "Plus, it's closer."

They looked at each other and Harry finally sighed before bending down and whispering to me.

"Are you okay with that?" I just nodded and he did the same. "Okay, darling."

Heidi drove us back home since she had barely drank and I noticed Niall kept glancing at me in the mirror but I didn't acknowledge him. I knew he was a bit mad at me for some of the things I had said and if I wanted to be honest, I really thought I was over all of that, but the thought of him breaking my heart and not being sure of the relationship we had made something burn inside me... I was not mad. I was still hurt. I probably always would be.

Niall let me borrow a pair of his sweatpants and a shirt and none of us really talked at all. We just went to bed and before I knew it, I was laying on my back, under the covers, in the dark, just staring at the ceiling. Normally, I would have a conversation with Niall until we'd both fall asleep but that night, it was impossible. He was going to cuddle her all night, and not me. The thought made me swallow hard and I tried to keep my tears in. I was intoxicated and just closing my eyes made me dizzy.

That's when I heard it. It made my heart jump so hard in my chest I was near throwing up. A moan. Just a low moan disturbing the silence of the night and then, an other one. I got up slowly, my heart beating harder, making my whole body throb and when I opened the door, I held my breath. I stepped out of the room and It was clear, now. A bunch of moans reached my ears and I leaned my back against the wall, shutting my eyes tight.

"Oh, fuck, Niall!"

I felt tears invade my eyes and I let myself slide on the wall until my ass hit the floor. I heard noise, like the annoying sounds of a mattress moving, and I brought my hand to my mouth, trying to keep in the sobs that wanted to escape. This is exactly why Heidi wanted me to sleep at their place but the one I really blamed was Niall. How could he do that to me? Wasn't breaking my heart once enough? What the hell was he thinking?

I was sitting down alone in the hall, now as sober as possible in these circumstances, listening to my ex boyfriend, the man I was in love with, having sex with his girlfriend. It was so pathetic I didn't even take the time to wipe the tears that fell on my cheeks, I just accepted my fate, motionless, like it was something I actually deserved. I tried to think about my boyfriend, filming a movie in an other country, but it couldn't distract me from the noises coming from his room. All these images of Heidi riding him as he touched her and told her how much he loved her invaded my brain and I felt suddenly nauseous. It made me realize one thing. It was not so much that they had sex, that really bothered me, although it did hurt me to some extent. What was really hard to accept was that he may have feelings for her, stronger feelings than he had for me. I also couldn't really believe he cared so little about me that he'd literally do it while I was in the same house, in the room literally next to mine.

I cried more, feeling like this moment would never fucking end. It's only when I heard his voice for the first time that something inside me seemed to click. He had groaned and I hated it. It was a low and simple grunt but it made me want to literally die on the spot. I don't know where I found the strength but I quickly got up, walked back to the guest room and grabbed my purse before rushing to the front door and stepping out of the house into the dark night. The door closed roughly behind me and I realized they may have heard. I quickly left and ran across the street, my shoes hitting the ground being the only sound around. It was only when I was totally out of breath that I decided to call a cab. I just wanted to erase that whole evening from my mind. I just wanted to erase all my feelings and be happy again but I couldn't lie to myself. The only time I was truly happy was when I was with Niall... and that was over. There was no hope left inside me.

[heartbreakgrill]

Circles; Harry Styles Pt. 2

“Remember Frankie? From World History? She has a baby now,” you remarked, voice like lyrics over the rhythm of your white tennis shoes and Harry’s leather boots stepping in time on the concrete bike path.

Leaves occasionally fell, crunching under your feet, sticks and stones on the path being kicked or broken away. The fall wind blew gently, waving strands of your air in front of your face. You had decided against lipgloss, luckily because your hair was so unruly. Harry’s curls, a beautiful feature of his which you always admired, were flopping with each step. You found your eyes trailing from his cheek to his hair consistently, simply admiring. He didn’t catch on much, his own focus glancing between you and the ground beneath his feet.

Lunch had been wonderful. He took to you the local pub, where you sat in the corner, knees bumping against each other after every movement. You shared a basket of fries, ate your own sandwiches and drinks. You caught up on everything: Your studies in London, who your friends were these days, the last boy who broke your heart. He told you about Louis and Niall, and only a little of Liam and Zayn. He explained the sketchiness of his management, the stress of touring, but his excitement on stage. You admitted to have listened to his two albums the night before and told him Little Thins became a quick favorite. You told him about your plan to move to New York when you finished University in order to delve into the world of international journalism.

After lunch, you didn’t want to leave one another, lingering in front of the door, still chatting, when you remembered the local bike trails. (“Gosh, I haven’t been there in forever.” “Same here.”)

So, now, you were strolling along, hands in pockets and elbows bumping somewhat. He replied to your comment about a forgotten classmate with, “God, its strange to think about people we know having children. Were only 19.”

You shrugged, “That’s normal around here, I guess. People settle down straight away, let go of their dreams for simpler, easier things.”

“I could’ve done that,” Harry spoke with a whispery tone. “Sometimes I wish I would’ve.”

You didn’t want to poke and prod at a comment that could turn into something bigger and moved on. “You’ve got money. Be happy.” Of course, this was a joke.

Harry laughed, “Money cant buy happiness.”

“Oh, I’m sure it could buy mine.” He glanced at you inquisitively. “Well, Im constantly stressed in London because of work and school. Its stressful and exhausting paying for my apartment and class and food and life.”

Harry frowned somewhat, “That’s part of the reason I hate it sometimes. I’m so lucky and undeserving of all I get just because I can sing and I’m attractive. You work so hard for what you have and you still struggle. It’s unfair.”

You retrieved your hand from your pocket and pushed him lightly, “I’m just confused as to who said you were attractive.”

He blushed deeply, his eyes downcast and shy. Suddenly he met your eyes and shrugged his shoulders. “You did say I was cute.”

Your own cheeks quickly turned red. “I’m gonna avoid my problems.” Your pace quickened and you began to walk away from Harry.

He giggled, emitting a grin on your face, and walked fast. Harry reached out and grabbed you around the waste, spinning you around in his arms. You caught yourself on his shoulders, feeling his warm breath combat the cold on your cheeks. He grinned cheekily down at you, eyebrows raised.

“I didn’t lie,” you unashamedly spoke. “Ive always thought you were cute. Hell, the only reason I came to the bakery so much was because of you.”

“What about the muffins?” He mused.

“Harry, a girl gets sick of eating muffins every single Saturday for 2 years in a row.”

He chuckled, squeezing your waist gently. But, then, his eyes fell slightly, his lips molding into a frown. His grip loosened and he almost stepped back. But, he didn’t. “Do you wanna go on a date tomorrow? With me?”

“I’d really like it if you could get Niall’s number for me, but I guess you’ll do,” you whipped your head around in exclamation.

He scoffed, laughing loudly, before pulling you against his chest. You just stood there, hugging each other lightly, though you were shivering in the breeze. Soon after, he walked you home and even kissed your cheek prior to leaving. You giddily walked up to your bedroom, bare of much decoration because of your schooling situation. You closed the door and leant against like a heartsick teenager. You felt the same way you did two years ago, head over innocent heels for some stupid boy. You didn’t know if this would work, given your future career and his present one. You didn’t know what his favorite color was, but he did telll you his favorite way to drink tea. You didn’t know who his childhood cartoon crush was, but you knew that when he looked at you, your stomach was in flames.

You didn’t know what you would regret in the future, as no one does. So you decided to jump.

-

Harry had definitely gone on Pinterest.

When you opened your door (only knowing he would be arriving at the time he did because you spent the entire afternoon, night, and morning texting one another) you immediately smelled the sweet fragrance of men’s cologne. It was nice, slightly overwhelming, but nice nonetheless. He held a bouquet of red roses, your favorite because you told him you were a fan of cliches. He wore a jade green button-up, short-sleeve dress shirt. It was obviously new, given away by the fact that there were creases in his sleeves. (His favorite color was ocean blue, by the way, and yours was the color of his shirt.) In his other hand was a picnic basket, which he held up to you after he handed off the roses.

“It’s freezing outside, Harry,” you giggled whilst motioning him to step inside. He did, following you into the kitchen.

You set the roses up in a vase as he replied, “I know. But its okay because I have a really nice idea.”

“Okay, I trust you,” you spoke reassuringly. You turned towards him from your spot by the counter.

Harry’s eyes trailed over your figure, clad in a long-sleeve, ocean blue wrap top tucked into a pair of blue jeans which stopped just above your black ankle boots. Gold jewelry dangled above the neckline and from your ears, your hair tied up in a low messy bun which took too much effort. “You look lovely, by the way.”

“You, too,” you grinned, meeting his eyes. “Guess we both thought of impressing one another.”

“I went to three different stores to find this,” he spoke as you began to lead him back to the front door.

“Uh, me, too. Don’t act so special,” you grabbed your coat off the rack and slipped your arms through it. Harry laughed.

You bid farewell to your parents, who were watching television in the living room. They gushed over Harry, about to ask him a million questions when you said, “Dinner reservations, sorry, got to go!”

You grabbed his hand and pulled him out the door. You didn’t let go, and neither did he, but he had to in order to open your door. You hadn’t expected this and hesitantly slid into the passenger seat. “Thanks.” You told him once he started the car.

After a few moments of adjustable, comfortable silence, you piped up again, “So, where exactly are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

You arrived to a park two towns over after half an hour. It was massive, with lookout spots all over the hills. He parked in one with the trunk of his mum’s car facing out over the countryside. He opened your door for you, again, and led you to the back of the car.

“Okay, Ted Bundy,” you giggled lightly, walking ahead of him.

“Oh, please, I dont want to kill you,” he scoffed, popping the trunk. “At least not until the nights over.”

“Why not?” You held his eyes, not yet looking to the trunk.

He shrugged, “Because I have to get a goodnight kiss first.”

He left you stunned, cheeks red and eyes wide. Harry sat down in the trunk, leaning back against the pillows and blankets decorating the small space. You grinned at him, as he was awaiting your reaction. He leant a hand and helped you settle next to him. You both crossed your legs in order for him to set the picnic basket down. He shut the trunk, the heater cranked up and the radio playing.

“Were wasting so much gas,” you laughed, shedding your coat.

Harry took it from you, folded it, and set it on the folded down back seats. He took off his own, “Dont worry about it. I’m rich, remember?”

You tossed your head back with a loud laugh. The hours flew by from there on: He had made finger sandwiches, which you ate with liberation, and homemade lemonade packaged in a thermos. His mother helped him melt chocolate and cover strawberries in it. He had even made a mini cake at the bakery and packaged it all nicely for you two to share. You talked about everything you hadn’t already discussed: Music, books, television, his supporting act on tour, your favorite professors. You told him about your dumb job waitressing, about the lady who had tipped you one-hundred euros.

Once you were done, you helped him pack up the trash. He set the picnic basket in the front seat before shutting off the car. The sunroof was closed, but the stars were visible through it. He laid down on the blankets, head smushing the pillows. You sat there for a moment, feeling slightly awkward, before he motioned for you to lay down, too.

You cleared your throat, face hot and body stiff, before doing so. There were barely a few inches between you, but Harry made sure there were none. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and tugged you into him. You took the liberation to lean your head on his chest and lay your arm across his stomach. No words were exchanged, but they didn’t need to be. Everything that you could learn had probably already been said: Deeper stories, moments, could be exchanged later. A bond was now established and you already knew what was coming.

For now, you could only enjoy the moments that he was here: His hand in yours when he drove you home; hand in yours as you led him to the front door; lazily smiling down at you; a gentle, comforting hug; his eyes flickering between yours, your lips; his breath fanning closer until he stole his goodnight kiss.

“Guess you can kill me now.”

TAG LIST: @mantlereid , @boxofteenageideas , @dinosaursandsocks @ashhdaniellee95 @heartbreakcity @sadhwstudent

[gayregis]

Hi good morning can we talk about twn ciri for a sec? There is something about the way she’s portrayed by the actress that just drives me CRAZY and I don’t know quite how to put my finger on it. I think she’s just so reserved and serious and haughty, whereas in the books she’s really playful and lively and exaggerated and just?? Has emotions?? And also I was spoiled by Peter Kenny’s fantastic accent for ciri and can’t think of her any other way. ANYWAY WHAT R UR THOUGHTS CUZ IM SURE THEY’RE GOOD

ohohoh yes. just as a prefacee and for context, freya allan (ciri’s actress) is 18 years old, and i am 19 years old, so to say i didn’t like her acting in twn isn’t me bullying or being harsh on a minor. in addition, i also don’t think her acting was bad. i think her acting was great, but it was just out of character for ciri, at least the ciri we know from the books... i do not think the directors treated ciri with enough weight as she needed to have in the narrative. like with yennefer, they gave her way more screen time and much less significance in the overall story, because the moments that they gave them to be on screen were just pure filler with no effect on the character development, relationship development, setting, themes... the audience never learned anything useful when they were on screen, besides lore about aretuza and cintra that would immediately escape their minds after the episode was done.

i know for a fact that this “out of character” acting for ciri (her being “so reserved and serious and haughty”) was a result of the directors and people running the show, and NOT freya herself as an actress. like with joey batey and anya chalotra i think, they got the short stick in this deal. they’re actors, so their profession is to act, but they don’t always get to decide HOW they’re supposed to act and portray these beloved characters. that’s what the director is for, right? to direct how scenes play out, to make sure the characters are in-character. and the writers are the ones that write the actors’ lines and the scenes they exist in, so “then it’s just like any other place,” or “who’s yennefer,” and other ridiculous garbage throwaway lines were the writers’ fault and not the actors. i just think it’s important to establish that even though yes, freya is an older teenager/young adult, she’s not responsible for a lot of decisions involving ciri and the character. plus since she is 18 and just got done being 17, i feel like this is the first time she’s actually been able to legally make her own decisions. 

plus in this topic, because i’ve never mentioned it anywhere before, i’d like to bring light to how it’s super shady of netflix to decide to hire an actress for ciri who is BARELY an adult actor, because child actors (as opposed to adult ones) are restricted by many different laws concerning how many hours they can work, etc. the fact that freya is 18 means that they can give her more work and disregard any regulations that may have applied to a child actor, and i think i literally read this from lauren hissrich in an interview, that “older actors are easier to work with than child actors” or something like this, that it’s difficult to shoot with child actors due to the immense restrictions. so although they phrased the casting choice for freya allan more in the sense of “well, we were GOING to cast someone younger, but freya was just so fantastic in auditions that we NEEDED her in this production” is suspicious to me, i think they did it so they wouldn’t have to deal with the headache of laws surrounding child actors (note that i do NOT doubt that freya is a great actress, i liked her acting, i mean look at the scenes she is in! she is actually acting, unlike henry cavill).

speaking of henry cavill, anyone want to mention his 19 year old girlfriend or his “opinions” on the #MeToo movement? no? my more conspiratorial theory is that they might have just wanted to get a barely legal actress for ciri because if cavill were to “do anything”... ahem... it would be less complicated for all of the legality than if he “did anything” to a child. i’m not calling cavill a r*pist but he has made his views on women explicitly clear, and a LOT falls under the umbrella of sexual assault and harassment. innappropriate comments, etc... i don’t trust him to respect women just as much as i don’t trust him to act.

that was a big preface that pretty much went nowhere, apologies... but i think it’s significant to look at the context around the actor or actress when they’re likely being a tad exploited on set. but yes, ciri does come off as super out of character to me in the majority of scenes she is in. it’s because her character was set up to be a white feminist fantasy of being declared innocent from the sins of her family because she feels bad about it, with her “being so privileged and then she finds out her grandmamma committed mass genocide and she has to realize that her royal ways!” instead of anything related to what we see in the books, of a vulnerable child losing that childhood and trying to cling to some sense of normalcy and family. they set her up as “a princess” and not “a child.” 

in the books, she’s just a child, and then geralt learns she’s a princess and teases her that she doesn’t look much like one, being lost in a forest with a snotty nose... she’s not introduced in a royal court surrounded by noble guests. i doubt that books ciri spent all of her time in court, either... according to the lore, she wouldn’t even be able to sit down and she would have to stand in calanthe’s presence (season of storms, the princes must stand in the royal court alongside their father while coral gets to sit because she is a sorceress... of course, this is cidaris and not cintra, but it still stands). she is a princess, but she has difficulty acting like one... it’s something i’d rather erase from my mind because it’s one of those “problematic points of canon that only exist because they live in a medieval society,” but it’s made clear that calanthe gave ciri the belt for misbehaving, multiple times. ciri is obviously interested in more childlike pursuits and acts outside of her station a lot. after all, she is the reason that their entourage got pulled into brokilon in the sword of destiny, because ciri fucking ran away since she didn’t want to be brought to and married off to prince kirsten of verden.

again on ciri’s age, she was 8 or 9 when we first meet her in the books, and 14 when we meet her in the netflix series. that’s a vast amount of difference in age, not only by years, but by development and experience. an 8 year old is a 3rd grader, a 14 year old is a high school freshman. i think that makes a lot of difference in not only how much agency a character is treated with, but how an audience views them. i mean, 14 is a good age for a YA novel protagonist - think harry potter or percy jackson. ciri in the netflix adaptation was set up more as someone relatable (to those younger watching) as she’s like the hero of her own story! she escapes from her evil evil evil pursuers and has this great power she doesn’t yet understand! whereas books ciri is meant more for an audience to feel like geralt toward - protective, parental, you find a child in the middle of the woods, and you’re thinking, “what’s with this... sassy lost child?”

sapkowski is also the master of a good character reveal. i think ciri, cahir, regis, even characters like vilgefortz, have these GREAT reveals as to who they were all along! surprise, surprise, there is no black knight of cintra, it’s just a young man paralyzed with fear and pain! surprise, surprise, the guy that knew a lot about vampires and lived near a cemetery and dresses in all black is a vampire (ok, this reveal is weaker... but you’ve got to admit, the actual reveal scene... alright). 

ciri had a GREAT character reveal in the books. since we see everything from geralt’s perspective, she’s just some child, she’s just some brat geralt finds in the wilderness, he doesn’t have ANY reason to feel any sort of way to her, and he practically adopts her and she feels safe with him. he recognizes her vulnerability as a child and does anything to protect her and guide her. this is what is meant by “something more,” their relationship from the beginning was something more than strictly destiny. destiny may have led them together, but it did not make them become family, they did that themselves. and later when geralt learns that ciri is the princess of cintra, the child surprise promised to him, does he even consider destiny as part of the equation. and this is actually what drives them apart, because geralt believes that he will and refuses to ruin her life by introducing her to the blade, and thus, death. because it’s not incredibly special that ciri is a child surprise, i wouldn’t say it’s horribly common, but it’s not like she’s the only one. and she’s definitely not the only child to be taken/taken in and raised by witchers. and geralt knows what being raised as a witcher is like, and he refuses to do that to her, because he actually loves this child as his daughter. and this is where the conflict stems from, because geralt spit in destiny’s face and said, fuck you, i’m not going to hurt this child. and destiny said, i’m going to hurt her anyways.

in the netflix series? the first time we see ciri... is in cintra! the surprise is RUINED!! child surprise, more like child already-revealed. the audience has no reason to watch anymore, because we already know who she is and what happens to her. they literally kill calanthe and eist off in the first episode, and then expect the audience to CARE about them during episode 4 when they adapted a question of price. in the books, dandelion telling geralt the accounts of the massacre of cintra was a heavy scene, it was a tragic scene, and you knew somehow that it was geralt’s fault because of how he had refuted destiny, you had the lore on your side if you had been reading the stories beforehand, you understood why this was happening and what has happened to ciri.

also side note, i sincerely think the massacre of cintra is better coming from geralt’s best friend, someone he’s known for years and trusts immensely, also a poet so his account is horrifyingly immaculate and it really hits that mark of chilling, rather than geralt just... idk being there? i didn’t watch this far but he showed up to cintra and calanthe threw him in jail? this makes no sense, why would she... anyways. but yes, dandelion is a character that serves to be there for geralt, so it makes sense for him to tell geralt about cintra because then geralt can respond and thus demonstrate to the readers/audience all of the emotions about it that he is feeling.

but yeah so to summarize, my thoughts are that ciri really comes off as a weaker character in the netflix series than in the books because:

they treated her as older and introduced her as the lion cub of cintra and not as just some child found in the woods, taking BOTH the “child” and “surprise” out of “child surprise”

they removed geralt’s paternal relationship to her and why exactly he is significant in her story, and hyped up the “destiny” thing instead, which came off as completely meaningless, not to mention annoying to hear repeated when there has been no significance developed behind the word. i mean, they cut out both brokilon and something more (i will NOT accept that scene as the ending scene of something more. that wasn’t a hug fit to pick your kid up from afterschool, much less a hug that you run towards your kid with when you thought they perished and you were responsible for it, when you risked your life just to maybe be able to see them again. there was also no dialogue, no “geralt, you’ve found me! after all this time! i knew it! i’m your destiny! say it, i’m your destiny? am i your destiny?” “you’re much more than that, ciri. much more.” so that sucked).

they chose an older actress for ciri, likely to evade having to respect their actors by working within the confines of child labor laws, but not only this, they treated her older in the narrative and made the viewer empathize with her instead of with geralt, the parent... ciri only is supposed to become a “relatable” character when she reaches 13 or 14, in blood of elves and in time of contempt.

they reduced the significance of how deep her trauma was from the massacre of cintra (she makes one offhand comment about how cahir had a bird on his head... that’s not gonna cut it for me. she’s so far experienced a total of zero nightmares about the black knight of cintra).

they gave her a bunch of filler scenes that had absolutely no impact on the broad story or her character development or relationships with other characters (doppler plot). they also made her arc surround unlearning being a princess and finding what epic powers she might have, and nothing comes from both of these points. she doesn’t develop any character because of these points, they’re just there for more filler.

a tad unrelated but: they made yennefer’s wanting a child more of an obsession than a goal the character just happens to have, and have sexualized her character immensely, moreso than in the books... plus the fact that they made her super appealing to the audience and to every other character including geralt from the start (she’s not someone who is icy at first, then warms up), makes me feel like we are never going to get ciri and yennefer at ellander. ever. i just can’t imagine it with this ciri and this yennefer from the netflix series.

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Twenty Five, “A New Hope”

// FIND OLD CHAPTERS HERE //

hi!!!! i hope you’re all doing okay and hanging in there during this crazy time in the world. please know that im thinking of you, and please stay safe and healthy!!! id love to hear what you think of this chapter so plz like reply with thoughts or send me an ask??? id love to talk to anybody about this story bc it sounds weird but i love this story too???? like tell me what was your fav part??? what do you predict is gonna happen? 

thanks so much for still reading after all of this time, and i hope this chapter distracts you from some of the crap going on in the world ♡♡♡♡

                                            *SNEAK PEEKY TIME*

“But some moments when I’m so deep into my work, a thought pops into my head making me think that I’ll look up and see him there. Or some days I even think I hear his voice. Or I think the text I just got was from him. 

None of that happens. 

And it upsets me far more than it should. Some days I’m just better at ignoring it. 

I couldn’t have wished for a better “new job,” but sometimes I miss him. And I don’t know what to do about it. Because there isn’t anything I can do. I know I made the right decision to leave, but in the moments I get overwhelmed and frustrated with learning new tasks, I wish I could be sitting back in that desk down the hall from his office.”

                                   PART TWO: THE STRANGER

The noises here are all new and hard to get used to. The printer works differently. It’s like a maze in order to find the department I work in. There are key codes I have to put in and doors I have to scan my badge at. There are so many more names to learn here, and new phone extensions to master. 

But I like it. 

And I think I’m getting the hang of it. Slowly but surely. 

“It’s Becky, right?” a voice says, pulling me from my chaotic thoughts. 

I blink, looking away from my steaming cup of tea and to the face smiling at me. 

“Uh yeah, it is. And you’re . . . Molly, right?” 

“Yeah, wow! You’re good at names!” she laughs before sipping from her own cup of tea and taking a seat beside me. “How are you liking it here so far?”

“It’s good so far, thanks,” I reply, picking up my tea and blowing on it. Avoiding her round brown eyes, I think hard about where I’ve seen her before. She must be in the same department if she’s in this break room. Hmmm. I hate it when I can’t remember things even though it’s on the tip of my tongue. 

“You used to work for Styles and Lawson, did I hear that right?” Molly asks before taking a long pull from her mug. She crosses her legs clad in black slacks that end at the polka-dotted blouse hugging her large chest. 

If I got a pound for every time somebody has asked me that here, I wouldn’t even have to work here. 

“Yeah,” I say, trying not to sound how annoyed I am to have to answer this question for the hundredth time. I told my new boss this once, and somehow everybody in the Administration department now knows it. 

“Interesting. It looks like you stayed in the same world coming to work at the courts,” she remarks and I nod blankly. 

Yeah, as if I haven’t heard that one before in the last month, too. 

I continue to smile and nod at her repetitive questions. I sometimes answer them and then listen to her drone on about her three kids until the small hand reaches the 6 on the clock and my break is over. I’ve never been so excited before to go back to work. 

Sitting down at my desk, I almost smile at the way the cushion welcomes me back. Framed pictures smile back at me. 

Skye and I. Robbie and I as kids in matching outfits. My dad. My grandparents. 

The same ones I had on my old desk. At his firm. 

My chin arrives in my hand and a heavy sigh falls from my lips. The little pink clock on my desk tells me it’s only 12:30 in the afternoon. 

I wonder what he’d be doing right now. 

My eyes fall shut with a groan. I try to shake my head free of those kinds of thoughts. The very thoughts I’ve been trying to push away this last month. But after so long, it’s almost too hard. I thought that the more time that passed would make it easier, but some days it’s harder than others. 

I really like it here. Everybody is nice and helpful. My boss is easygoing, supportive, communicates well, and helps me with any questions I may have. My workload is realistic, it’s familiar, and I enjoy it. 

But some moments when I’m so deep into my work, a thought pops into my head making me think that I’ll look up and see him there. Or some days I even think I hear his voice. Or I think the text I just got was from him. 

None of that happens. 

And it upsets me far more than it should. Some days I’m just better at ignoring it. I couldn’t have wished for a better “new job,” but sometimes I miss him. And I don’t know what to do about it. Because there isn’t anything I can do. I know I made the right decision to leave, but in the moments I get overwhelmed and frustrated with learning new tasks, I wish I could be sitting back in that desk down the hall from his office. I tell myself that I just miss the familiarity. But I know that I also miss him. 

His sweet cherry smile. 

His contagious laugh. 

His bizarre outfits that I looked forward to every day. 

His twinkling green eyes. 

The taco dates. 

The late-night hangouts in his office with wine coolers and take away. 

The silly yet frustrating Scrabble games. 

His smell. Sandalwood mixed with bergamot and cedar. 

And his jokes.

His raspy deep drawl. 

And his warm bear hugs. 

Pressing my fingers into my temples, I blink hard. The thoughts disappear for a second, but not long enough. I lift my head and settle my fingers on the letters of the keyboard.  The login screen is only blurry for a moment, and the moment passes. But the ache in my chest and the racing inside of my skull doesn’t stop. They only continue as I open up a document and continue my work, as I continue missing him. 

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to stop.

+ 

12:30 right on the dot. 

The black second-hand ticks past the three nears the four, and then the five. Fat snowflakes fall against my foggy window, blanketing the rest of London in its opaqueness. The words of David Gilmour and Roger Waters tickle my ears, but I don’t listen to them. The thoughts whirring around inside of my head keep them out. 

I wonder what she’s doing right now. 

Is she liking her new job?

Are they being nice to her?

Did she already eat lunch?

Are any blokes flirting with her?

Does she have her own desk?

What kind of place does she work at now?

Is she happy?

That thought weighs heavier than the others, and I feel it. My lips part and a long sigh leaves them. 

Knock knock! 

“Yeah?” I call out, not bothering to turn around. The bustling of double-deckers, cars, and people on the streets are more entertaining than any emails I should be reading. 

“Harry, are you going to join us?” I hear a familiar voice ask. 

“Yeah, ‘ll be there inna minute,” I answer, ignoring the tone of Myles’ voice. 

The sound of the door closing trickles past the music and into my ears. My head falls into my hands and I let my eyes close. My fingers find their way into my hair and I remain there for a second, feeling my breaths leave and enter me. 

I miss you, Becks. 

A few breaths later, my fingers fall. Now, they find the closed laptop sitting near me and the leather book atop it. Next, my feet find their way to the door. But they stop in front of it. All of the moisture in my throat suddenly disappears, and a giant old lump appears in its place. 

Oh, not again. 

I breathe in and out and wait until it passes. 

My ringed fingers wrap around the handle and turn it. Swallowing past the lump, my feet move again and down the hall. Knuckling at my eyes, I round the corner and quickly wipe at my eyes. 

“You okay, Harry?” Myles asks me, welcoming me when I sit down beside him in the large meeting room. 

“Yeah, jus’ got somethin’ in me eye,” I tell him, gulping hard. But there’s something in his ocean blue eyes that says different. He’s been a blessing putting up with my shit and excuses, but I think he knows more than he lets on. He’s always cared more than he shares. 

He pats my arm before he turns to face Jennings who begins to talk. “It’ll be alright, it always is,” he mentions in a whisper. 

I nod and turn my attention to Jennings. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t. I can’t focus, and I can’t believe him. Because the chaos of my mind continues. And so do the pictures of her scattered around in there. And so do the feelings, because no matter how hard I try to shut them off, they stay. Even after a bottle of brandy. But the alcohol doesn’t make me stop missing her, and hating myself for messing up. And for losing Becks. 

+

Alex Trebek’s voice welcomes my ears as I step foot into my flat. I jump when I hear Skye shout back at him. 

“What is Little Women!” she nearly screams, and her arms fly into the air when she gets it right. “Yessssss!” she exclaims, cheering for herself. Her pigtails the color of snow and blue cotton candy dance in the air around her. 

I laugh with a shake of my head, sighing as I shrug off my coat. 

“Oh hey, Boops,” she greets me, garnering an eye roll from me. 

“You know not to call me that,” I reply, closing the closet door that now holds my peacoat damp from the winter flurries. 

“I think I’m one of the few people allowed to call you that,” she replies, and I give her a glare in return. 

To no surprise, it doesn’t do anything, because she just picks up another gummy worm and feeds it between her lips coated in neon pink lipstick. 

“What, did your clients cancel their haircuts and colors because of the blizzard?” I ask her, padding over to the kitchen island. 

“Yeah, bloody idiots forgot how to drive in the snow or something,” she nearly hisses, but it doesn’t last long because she yells another answer at the tv. “What is the Mariana Trench!”

“Skye, we have neighbors you know,” I scold her as my eyes search the shelves of our refrigerator. “Also, would it kill you to do some grocery shopping, perhaps before we’re snowed in?”

“Yeah sorry, I meant to but I forgot.”

“What’s new,” I mumble under my breath. I grab the first thing of leftovers I see and pop it into the microwave. Rice and broccoli from last night. It’s just so exciting eating healthily. “You’re on grocery shopping duty next then.”

“Have you seen Harry yet at your new job?” Skye pipes up, ignoring my question. I truly wonder how many times I roll my eyes at her in one day or even one hour. 

“No, I told you that I’m in like the way back in the admin department in the courts. He would be on the other side in the actual courtrooms where the cases are held, silly.”

“Oh well sorrrrrrrrrry,” she retorts and then yells another answer at the tv. “Who is Martin Clunes!”

The microwave beeps as I reach up into the cupboard and pull down a mug at random. It has superheroes donning its sides - Batman, Superman, and Wonderman. An old one of my dad’s. But that’s not who it makes me think of. 

“Funnier is not a word!” 

“Oh yes, it ‘s! Jus’ look it up in tha dictionary, or better yet, on yer phone,” he giggles in reply. Shaking my head, I type the word into Google and feel a smirk begin to warm my cheeks. 

“Oh god, what ‘s that look for? I know that look’s no good.”

“So funnier is a word, huh?” I counter, feeling the smirk inch up my cheeks slowly. Turning my phone around, I show the Google page to him and watch his face morph into denial. A sneaky grin lines his lips as he resists to roll his eyes. His head falls next with a defeated sigh and he punches the pillow. 

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, Harry Styles,” I tell him, my lips letting loose a laugh. He joins me before groaning and taking his word off of the board. 

“I needa break,” he huffs. The sofa whines from his shifting weight and I hear his footsteps trailing behind him. 

“Tea break?” I ask and hear a pleased ‘yes’ in return. 

“Here lemme, ‘s my turn anyways,” Harry insists, and I feel his hand on my back. Facing him, he winks a hazel-green eye at me. “Go pick yer word, Becks. Lemme take care of tha tea.”

I nod and begin to turn to walk away. I almost stop when I feel his long fingers rub a circle into my back. But I don’t, because they’re gone before I can blink. A silent sigh drops from my bottom lip as I walk away from him. 

You have no idea what you do to me, Harry Styles. 

The thoughts being sewn together in my mind revolve around something other than the Scrabble tiles sitting in front of me. Instead, they’re about how well the skinny blue jeans hug his legs and another asset of his. And how the black and blue flannel he wears makes him look insanely cozy. My God. 

“Don’ think so hard, Becks,” Harry titters, and I pull my eyes away from the Scrabble tiles that were beginning to grow blurry. I look to him with a question on my face and find him laughing with those eyes on me. “Can’t find any good words, eitha?”

“No,” I say with a shake of my head. I let my head fall to the back of the sofa I’m curled up against. 

“Tha’s fine. Why dontcha put it t’ tha side an’ we can do somethin’ else?”

“Like what?” I ask, moving our racks of tiles to the coffee table where the board sits. 

“I dunno, you can pick,” he answers. As I grab for the remote, I hear the pouring of water and the clinking of spoons. 

Yawning, I sink into the sofa and press the power button. The television screen comes to life in front of me and the last thing watched appears. I flip through the channels, and after a couple of programs, I arrive on a familiar scene. 

“Oooo, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince,” I hear, turning to find Harry arriving on the sofa next to me. I take the steaming Marvel mug in his outstretched hand with a ‘thank you.’ 

“I didn’t know you liked Harry Potter,” I mumble before blowing on my tea. After deciding it’s far too hot, I sit forward and set it down on a coaster. 

“Oh, I love it. I read a few o’ tha books when I was younger, an’ ya can’t find a betta movie. There’s nothin’ like these,” he answers, eyes already glued to the screen. He sets his tea aside with a clud on the table. “Here,” Harry says, and I look over to find him draping my velvet black star blanket over me. And him. 

“Mmmm, thanks,” I mumble happily, pulling it up to my shoulders. I feel him move around next to me before finally getting comfortable. 

“Yer welcome, bug. I think this issa good way t’ spend tha resta tha night. Too cozy an’ tired t’ do anythin’ else,” he comments with a laugh ending his words. 

I nod and tip my head to the side, not expecting to find his shoulder right there. I freeze and peek a look up at him. He notices and glances down at me. All he does is smile at me before his eyes go back to the scene on the television. 

I decide to stay there and he doesn’t seem to mind, only intent on commenting on the scene happening where Dumbledore first meets Voldemort. “Oooo, I like this part here. They make it look so cool with tha wisps o’ memories, an’ tha lighting ‘s incredible an’ so spooky.”

“Mmmmh, I always liked Tom Riddle, because of how creepy he is. And he’s much better looking than Voldemort,” I comment. 

“What?” Harry laughs, taking a peek at me. His thick eyebrows are scrunched in a disbelieving question as a smile pinches his dimpled cheeks. “But Tom Riddle ‘s Voldemort, ya goof.”

“Yeah I know, but like his younger self is far cuter than the noseless bald bloke he becomes,” I try to explain, but he only shakes his head with a few giggles. 

God, I think I could listen to that sound for hours on end. 

“Ya don’ make any sense, sometimes,” Harry chuckles. 

“Come on, yes I do! Wasn’t it like with every Horcrux he made he just started looking weirder?” I counter, nudging his shoulder with my own. 

“No, ya silly! It was cuz he was so deep into tha dark arts-.”

“Including making the Horcruxes!” I almost shout in argument. I watch the realization embed into his features, and I know I’ve won. 

“Okay fine, yer right. Well kinda. From what I rememba it has t’ do with that, an’ cuz he was a Slytherin an’ Parselmouth so he wanted t’ look like a snake. Y’know, tha lack o’ hair an’ nose? I also read that it could also be cuz he was one o’ tha last descendants of Salazar Slytherin,” Harry continues, words of admiration falling out one after the other. 

“Woooooow. I didn’t know we had a Harry Potter geek in the house,” I say, trying to stifle a laugh, but it doesn’t work. 

Another eye roll. 

Then possibly the most adorable pout I’ve ever seen as he moves away from me with a whimper. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I laugh, trying to pull him back over to me. But he’s so tall and long, that I have little success with my noodle arms. “Harry, I was just kidding.”

“Sure ya were,” he pouts, keeping his back to me as he settles on the other side of the couch. 

His name leaves my lips in a laugh. My fingers remain around one of his biceps, and I pull, but he doesn’t move an inch. I give up with an exaggerated sigh and my own whimper. 

Plopping myself back in my spot, I hunker down underneath the blanket. Pretending to watch the movie, I wait. 

“Yer not gonna get me with that pout,” Harry says all of a sudden. 

Taking that as a dare, I slowly look over at him. With knitted eyebrows and my bottom lip sticking out. A smile appears on his lips and blush fills his cheeks. His hands fall from his shoulder-length hair he’s just put into a bun. 

“Fine, ya got me. I can’ stay mad at that face,” he relents with words dipped in sugar. 

“You’re not the only one who can do a good puppy dog pout,” I comment as the couch dips with his movements. I feel his shoulder bump back into mine. I try not to smile too big as I tip my head to fall back against his shoulder. 

“Ya comfy, bug?” Harry mumbles next to me. 

“Mmmhmmm.”

“Good, ‘m glad me shoulder’s all comfy for ya,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. I see it in all its glory when I chance a look up at him and find him smiling down at me. 

It’s like looking into the sun. And like all of the times before - I never want to look away. 

I swallow hard, feeling the lump forming inside of me. 

“Can you please not bring him up anymore? It’s not helping the fact that I’m trying to forget him,” I spit at Skye, setting the mug down hard on the granite countertop. 

“Sorrrrrrrrrry. Goodness, what’s gotten into you today? I thought you were liking your new job, Ree.” 

“I am, I just don’t want to talk a-about Harry anymore,” I reply, pressing the button to open the microwave. The smell of broccoli and garlic trickles past me. 

“You can’t even say his name,” she laughs, and I groan as I stir the broccoli and brown rice around in the hot glass bowl. “Heeeey, I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know why you gave up on him, you could always go back and finish your . . .” 

Skye’s words trail behind me as my feet pad down the hallway to my bedroom. You’re not helping me to forget him, Skye. 

You’re only making me remember him, and I’ve been trying so hard lately not to. 

My quilt several shades of pink welcomes my return as I plop onto my bed. Shoveling a bite of broccoli and garlic rice into my mouth, I grab the remote and turn on my tv. Reaching for the Fire Stick remote teetering on the edge of the table, I push it and instead of grab. It clatters to the hardwood floor and I groan in response. Setting my dinner on the wood table, I regrettably leave my bed to retrieve it. Flicking on my lamp, I squat by the table and peer into the space behind my table. 

There it is. The long black rectangle waits for me there. But just as I’m reaching for it, another rectangle catches my eye. This time, it’s a white one. 

“Huh?” I mumble, feeling the stiff paper welcome my hands. 

I flip it over and the light catches on it. The long envelope stares back at me, and so do the letters on its front. My name in black pen interrupts the white expanse, but that’s not the writing that I’m focusing on. It’s the return address. 

Styles and Lawson 418 Stevens St.  London UK

Turning it over, I finger at the sealed edge. I don’t realize I’m doing it, but I bite at my bottom lip as I debate whether to open it. I can’t stop wondering what’s inside, and the postage date of December 18th only makes my curiosity burn brighter. And the fact that I’ve never seen this before in my life. 

“Skye, why do I have a letter from Styles and Lawson that I’ve never opened or seen before?” I yell to her through my half-open door. 

“Oh, that? I put it on your bedside table when it came that day. How am I supposed to know why you haven’t opened it?” she quips, as dumbfounded as I am. 

“It was behind my table, so it must have fallen.”

“Ya think?!” she replies with her usual loud volume, followed by another Jeopardy shout. 

I rip it open without another moment of hesitation. The paper makes a satisfying sound. A matte white paper looks back at me. The numbers and watermark on it tell me what it is. My fingers recoil instinctively when I touch the glossy object. I instead pull it out by its edges. 

Splashes of red and green and long-forgotten faces stare back at me. Myles. Mickey. Rose. Jennings. Myles. Rory. And Harry. Their faces are followed by the words “Merry Christmas from all of us at Styles and Lawson. Wishing you a happy Christmas and a fantastic New Year!” in a blocky white font. Little holly berry branches decorate the corners of the picture. A picture taken months ago at one of their big meetings, I assume. The sun is shining in through the window, and Harry’s hair isn’t as long. Everybody’s arms are around each other and a big goofy smile sits on his face. Tongue out and all. 

I do it before I can stop myself. My finger dances around the outline of his face, and down the black and maroon suit he wears in the picture. Probably the only printed picture I have of him, and one of the few I have in total. But there are enough burned into my brain that I’m already trying to erase. 

I toss them both onto the floor, leaving them behind my table where I wish they would’ve stayed in the first place. I return to my broccoli and rice and play a new video on YouTube. It does a good job of drowning out his voice in my head, but not good enough. 

I want ya t’ come back, Becks. I want us t’ try again . . .. . . .. 

+

Shades of brown dance around in the steaming water. I watch them twirl together and meet one another. The water slowly grows darker and darker as steam rises off of the surface. 

“If you stare any harder, I think your superpowers will come out and it’ll explode,” somebody says wryly.

“Wow, I didn’ know you were a comedian,” I respond, wrapping my fingers around the warm metal chain. 

“I didn’t know you were eco-friendly all of a sudden,” Myles says, nodding his head towards my cup of tea. “Or a little kid, with that dorky thing.”

“Oh shuddup,” I respond, watching the brown liquid fall from the pink silicone pig tea infuser. “It makes me feel good tryna save tha environment, an’ this li’l thing ‘s bloody cute.”

“Sure, if you’re a bleeding first-grader,” he responds with a titter, pulling a mug down from the shelf. 

“Yer jus’ jealous,” I quip as I pry off the pig’s head and dump the soggy tea leaves into the waste bin. 

Myles laughs and walks around me to the black fridge to take out the carton of milk. I blow on my steaming mug, watching little waves form in the brown water from my breath. A little water tornado forms from my next breath. I watch in fascination as it twirls around in the mug before finally tapering out. 

“You okay, Hare?” Myles asks, his voice taking on a softer tone. A friendly tone. “You haven’t seemed like yourself lately. You haven’t even been drinking coffee much, and that’s odd.”

“I’m fine,” I answer, bringing the mug to my lips and avoiding his eye contact. Setting the mug down on the counter, I chance a look inside the fridge and wonder what to have for lunch. 

“Is it Becky leaving? Is that why you’ve been acting differently?” Myles prods, nearly pulling a sigh from my lips. Or a groan. 

“I said ‘m fine, My,” I nearly retorted, my eyes glazing over the lone yogurts and forgotten sandwiches occupying the shelves. Slamming the door, I walk away and pick up my phone from the table in the center of the room. Maybe some takeaway. 

“Hare, you know you can talk to me about it,” Myles insists, throwing his hands up in the air. I ignore him, typing something on my phone, but I can see him out of the corner of my eye. 

Like he often does, he uses his hands to talk and they jump in the air only to fall with an exasperated sigh. Then they comb through his tousled blonde hair. 

“I hate seeing you like this, and not knowing how to help,” he continues softly. I give up, pressing the lock button on my phone and shoving it into my pants. 

I finally face him and look in his distraught brown eyes. 

“I miss her, Myles! I connected with Becky, a-and I screwed it up. I called her a liar and Amber was harassing her tha whole damn time without me knowing!” I confess, feeling the weight of the words fall from my shoulders as I finally say them. But the emotion rises in my throat, no matter how hard I try to hold it back. “She was amazing! She put up with me shit, and yet she stood up fer herself when she needed t’. She was funny, she was smart, she was beautiful, an’ I fooked it up!” The emotion eats at my words and by now, the horses are already out of their gates. And I don’t know how to corral them back in. “I hate feeling this way, but I dunno how you can help or even how I can help myself, Myles. So ‘m not g-gonna be myself ‘til I learn how t’ get ova this.”

I don’t know what to do. I steal a glance at him and find the sadness in his eyes is worse than before. I can’t handle it, and so I lift my feet and soon I’m walking out of the room. Leaving my tea, and the god awfully cute tea infuser pig. The one she got me before she left. 

“I saw it and immediately thought of you.”

“Wow, thanks, that makes me feel all warm an’ bubbly inside.”

“No, silly, I just mean it looked like something you’d like. And since you drink tea so much. And you’ve been buying metal straws and bamboo toothbrushes . . It seemed fitting. And isn’t the little piggy just so cute?”

“Yeah, I guess yer right . . . it really ‘s cute.”

Winding my way around coworkers, I suddenly find myself in front of the elevator stabbing at the buttons. I don’t even register which one I’ve pushed, because I want to be anyplace but here. Today is worse than most because anywhere I look there’s a memory of her stuck there. And they jump into my head and start playing before I can stop it. 

The elevator doors open with a ding and I step into the empty four walls, gladly. Rubbing at my eyes, I stab at the button for the parking garage my car is at. With a sigh, I feel some of the tension boiling inside of me leave. I get rid of the warm tears painted under my eyes and blink hard until my vision is clear again. 

Suddenly, the doors open and I nearly curse out loud when I see who’s waiting. The look on his face says that he feels about the same way. I step to the side, allowing him room to join me. He almost changes his mind, but he steps on and presses the button for 17. An awkward silence surrounds us as the elevator hums to life, dinging with each floor it passes. 

“Can I ask you a question?” I blurt out loud, doubting myself the second the words pass the threshold of my lips. 

His confused gray eyes rise and lock with mine, a question on his face. “What?” he answers, nearly annoyed with me. 

“I’m sorry, we’ve neva really talked and ‘ve neva been very nice t’ ya-,” I try, but he stops me. 

“Yeah, you haven’t, Harry, and so why should I? The last time I did a favor for you it didn’t really turn out too great,” Asher responds sharply, moving further away from me shaking his head. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he changes his focus to that. 

I look away and bite at my bottom lip. 

Way to go, Harry. 

But then the words are being shoved past my tongue and I can’t stop them. 

“I . . . jus’ wanna know if she’s doin’ alright,” they say, and I’m not even sure if he heard me with how quiet they were. 

Staring ahead, I see his head of blonde quiffed hair rise. He doesn’t say anything right away, but instead, he seems to think about it before he raises his head fully. 

“She’s okay,” he responds, with certainty to his words. And with those words, they take a little more of the tension I feel coating my body. 

“Good, ‘m glad t’ hear that . . . Is she uh liking her new job?”

“Yeah, she said it’s good. I dunno if I should be telling you this, but uh she found a clerk job in town. The same sorta thing as what she did here, which is good and makes switching jobs easier,” he continues, and I soak up every word because they’re about her. I wish I could hear these words from her mouth. But I can’t, and that’s my fault. 

“A-an’ they’re good t’ her there?” I continue, not knowing how to articulate the rambling thoughts in my head. 

“Yeah, they are,” Asher says, looking at me briefly. I look back and I watch his expression soften. “She’s doing well, Harry. She misses it here sometimes, but she’s adjusting and I think she’s where she needs to be right now.”

He doesn’t get to say anything more, because the elevator doors glide open. 

“Thank you, Asher . . I really mean it,” I tell him, giving a small smile. He nods and steps off and out of sight. 

And thus began our random elevator talks. I looked forward to them, even if they only lasted a couple minutes. And even if I only got to hear a vague update about her. And even if it made trying to forget her harder. 

+

The halls are quiet. A ghost town from earlier in the day where hundreds of feet traveled, and even just twenty minutes ago. But it’s the lunch hour, and everybody else has the same idea as me. To leave. Now, my black mod boots are the only sound on the speckled floors. The tall ceilings hide fluorescent lights and the gorgeous stained glass also hides, but from the snow. Identical snowflakes fall in the sky outside, and I pull my coat tighter around me in preparation to join it. 

The snowflakes melt in my hair and try to fly into my face, the wind pushing them this way and that. My car takes forever to warm up, making me curse myself for forgetting my matching violet hat and mittens on my desk. It only has just begun to warm up when I pull up in front of the towering brick building. Flocks of people rush to the doors from their cars, and the other way around. The vents blasting out warm air hush when I turn the key, bringing the chill with it. 

Well, this is it. My lungs heave a nervous breath and I try to sike myself up to even just open the door. But my thoughts get the best of me, and strings of what-ifs and doubts circle in my mind. 

What’s the point?

What if it turns out the same way as before?

What if I can’t do it?

What if I’m not good enough?

What if I made the right decision to leave?

Why should I try again?

What if I don’t like it anymore?

How can I do it by myself again when I never could the first time?

What if I fail?

Finally, I open the door and get out before I can stop. And I decide to leave all of the what-ifs and doubts there. Behind me. I focus on picking up my feet and putting one in front of the other until I’m standing in front of the familiar doors I haven’t stood before in a long time. 

The warmth welcomes me and so does the familiar smells of books and fried chips. The smells I always associated with this place. Lines of people fill the entrance and conversations paint the air. The Christmas decorations are long gone, and new knick-knacks and flyers replace them. Instead, cheesy Easter decorations line the bulletin boards. Yellow baby chicks. Pink fluffy banners. Easter eggs colored in patchy by tiny hands. Colorful signs advertise local events, reminders, schedules, and many more things I don’t have the time for. 

Pushing back the sleeve of my coat, I peek at my watch. I have 20 more minutes until I have to be back at work. Oh goodness, I hope I won’t regret this. 

But I don’t think I will, because I’m finally doing something about all of the nagging thoughts and ideas I’ve had the last few weeks. And I’m proud of myself for at least taking the first step. 

Stopping in front of the Information Desk, I’m met with a cheery smile asking me how they can help me. 

“Hi, I was hoping to speak with an advisor, a Mrs. Shepherd,” I begin, feeling the words roll off my tongue with hesitance. I’m surprised with myself for even remembering the name.

“Do you have an appointment with her?” she responds, looking away from her computer she types on. 

“No, I uh was just on my lunch break and I was hoping to meet with her to speak about something.”

“Alright. I’m going to need your name and what your question is for her,” the lady replies, looking between her computer screen and me. I pause, focusing on the fake yellow chick sitting atop her screen. Her heavily lined eyes wait for me behind her pink framed glasses, and her curly brown hair dances in the wind from her mini fan. 

“My name is Rebecca Holte, and I wanted to speak with Sally about finishing up my last 30 credits of my law degree.”

[mfingenius]

i jUST found ur Veela au and im already invested!! how did harry react to being Draco’s mate?!??

Part 1      Part 2      Part 3

Harry is freaking tf out 

Draco’s still asleep and part of harry wants to wake him up bc HOW DARE HE drop this sort of bomb and then just sleep??

but madam pomfrey tells him that if he wakes mr. malfoy she’ll make him suffer bc he needs to sleep

and that harry needs it too and if she sees him still awake in a couple hours she’ll give him a sleeping potion

so after she’s tended to his wounds (which were thankfully minimal apart from fucking dying) he places his infirmary bed next to draco’s and falls asleep holding his hand 

he wakes a long long time later (understandable, this boy hasn’t slept well in like a year)

Draco’s staring at their still linked hands, frozen, bc he remembers what he said and he thinks harry won’t want him anymore bc veelas mate for life and they’re seventeen ffs

he hasn’t noticed harry’s awake

‘draco’

draco snaps his eyes up to harry’s face and immediately goes red

‘i’m sorry, harry, i didn’t mean to tell you like that. it’s alright if you - if you don’t want me right now. i know i’m not - i’m damaged now and-’

‘Draco’

‘and i swear i tried to fight them and every day i thought of you but i couldn’t stop the crucios and-’

‘draco’

‘and i know i don’t deserve you-’

‘Draco!’

Draco finally shuts up

‘i don’t care what happened at the manor’

it’s a lie

harry does so care about what happened at the manor but not bc of the reasons draco thinks 

he just cares bc he wants to know who he’s sending to azkaban first 

‘and i never want to hear you say you don’t deserve me again. you deserve everything. i love you.’

draco’s at a loss of words

he was so convinced harry was going to break up with him 

‘can you explain the mate thing to me?’

so draco tells him everything 

about how he knew in fourth year and that was why he joined the order and the ridiculous care-taker instincts that have been driving him insane 

he tells him all of it 

down to how he felt him die 

harry frowns and cups draco’s face

‘i’m so sorry’

and they kiss 

cut forward to when madam pomfrey practically kicks them out of the infirmary (as soon as draco can walk bc apparently the spell did some good damage but it was mostly blood loss) bc other people need the beds

neither of them knows what to do then

everyone is still mourning for friends or family so thankfully they’re allowed to sneak away 

remus and tonks have already gone home to teddy 

draco and harry go to grimmauld place to stay with sirius for a bit 

the news about their eighth year come out a few months into their stay there and neither of them are sure whether they want to go back or not

the aurors have already made it clear they’ll take harry (and all of them) newts or no

but harry doesn’t think he wants to be an auror anymore

he still has nightmares of the war 

and so does draco 

he sees how they leave him shaking, and how he won’t let harry touch him for hours afterwards curled up in a corner of their room

and honestly he thinks they’ve both had enough 

but he doesn’t know what else to do 

it’s not like either of them need to work 

harry’s filthy rich bc of his parents 

draco’s filthy rich bc since he was a spy for the order the malfoy fortune has gone to him without being touched by the ministry (lucius malfoy is in azkaban fucking finally)

but harry also doesn’t want to just not work 

but he sure as hell doesn’t want to go back to hogwarts as a student bc he doesn’t think he could ever do that again 

draco does want to go back for eighth year 

in the whole year he was captive he didn’t do magic at all and he’s been struggling a lot with it 

neither of them want to be apart 

so 

it’s mcgonagall who delivers the answer to them 

she goes to grimmauld place personally 

and before harry can even speak she tells him ‘i know you don’t want to come back as a student’

and then proceeds to offer him the defense against the dark arts position 

although harry hadn’t thought of it before he sees now that it’s perfect

mcgonagall proceeds to turn to draco

‘and i know you want to come back to study. this way you’re both there and you’re both doing what you want’

she mostly wants them to come back bc she thinks they deserve one last chance to be children and learn silly spells and have feasts and not be the adults they were forced to be 

they both agree almost instantly 

then they��re going to hogwarts and they’re in a train compartment together

and then they’re at the feast and draco keeps batting his eyelashes at harry from the eighth year table and mcgonagall can see how this was a bad idea 

and then they’re in class and everyone respects harry as a teacher - even his own classmates - bc somehow he just fits 

and if at night draco sleeps in harry’s teacher quarters instead of the eighth year dorm then no one needs to know 

(everyone totally does but no one says anything)

and then it’s the winter holidays and they’re lying in bed together, harry petting draco’s wings (they’re always there lately and madam pomfrey tells them it’s permanent now that draco’s finally with his mate and feels safe)

and he brings up the subject of getting their own place

draco kisses him before he can even finish the question

before eighth year is over they’re already looking at flats and houses 

now that the war isn’t as fresh in everyone’s minds reporters are constantly bothering harry or draco or hermione or ron 

harry’s taken the worst of it obviously 

they never leave him alone 

and so it’s hard to find a house bc every realtor wants to be the one to sell to harry potter and his boyfriend 

so eventually they get tired of it and go have lunch in muggle london (after placing a strong disillusionment charm on draco’s wings) 

‘harry’

‘hmmm?’

‘why not here?’

‘what?’

‘why not here? why don’t we find a flat here? in muggle london. no one will bother us. we can connect the chimney to the floo network.’

harry stares at draco for a whole two seconds and then kisses him senseless

‘i love you’

looking for apartments in muggle london is much easier than in magical london 

it takes them a few weekends but finally they find one they’re both in love with

it’s a small one bedroom apartment on the top floor of an apartment building that has huge windows - draco needs those, bc he’s developed a deep fear of the dark and small rooms bc he feels too much like he’s in the dungeons at the manor again - and a lot of sunlight and it admits pets and a big kitchen - draco’s hopeless cooking but he’s been trying to learn and harry loves to watch the pinch of his eyebrows and mouth along to the muggle on the telly as she dictates the recipe - and it’s small and it needs some work but it’s theirs and harry could just cry 

they move in as soon as eighth year is over 

draco becomes a model for parvati patil’s clothing line 

harry’s not at all surprised

his boyfriend’s fucking gorgeous 

he makes sure to tell that to anyone who has the bad luck to sit next to him in the fashion shows he attends for draco

harry continues to teach at hogwarts 

after all of two months of living together harry proposes 

draco says yes ofc

they get married

and now harry can say ‘that’s my husband’ excitedly whenever he goes to one of the fashion shows draco’s modeling in 

and then time passes and they’re every bit as happy as they ever were

and ofc it’s not perfect

harry still has nightmares

so does draco

draco still has days where he hands harry a coat and then kicks him out the door bc he needs time alone 

harry still has nights he wakes up with a curse on his lips and his wand pointed at the wall 

but they’re together, and they’re happy bc it’s what they fucking deserve

---------------------------------------------

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Commissions

[hazinhoodies]

Mal en Point (part xv)

Koh!Harrison x Angel!Reader

A/N: uh i know its been a while and im sorry, uni is really hard and all im really asking is that you give me the same support that you give other writers when they dont post regularly or they post sporadically like i am iright now. quite frankly i don’t think i’ve been getting that but anyways. heres this. enjoy.

Warnings: overwhelming fluff, uh me not knowing what to write in the first half, uh i wrote most of this while i was drunk so sorry

Word Count: 2.7k

“Lilith put some new stuff in your wardrobe I believe, why don’t you look through those?” Harry asks as you round the corner down the hall that leads to your bedroom, you were starting to get to know your way around better. You’d just told him about Harrison asking you to dinner and inquired about what to wear. Truthfully, he was the best friend you had down here. Harry had smirked when you told him about Harrison’s proposition, clearly, he knew something you didn’t, but you didn’t pester about it.

“Well, that was the plan, look through what I have. I’ll figure something out hopefully” You push open the door to your room and Harry follows you in, sitting down in the velvet upholstered chair in front of the vanity in your room and spinning it so it faces you and the wardrobe you search through.

“You know I'm not much help with this, right? I’m not the best at this sort of stuff. I’ve got about seven of the same shirt and pants in my closet and that’s because Harrison chose them for me then I just stuck with it.” Harry lounges back in the chair, tapping his fingers along the arm.

“Yeah but you have eyes. You can tell me if something’s okay or not.” You continue to search through, stopping at a dress that looks eerily similar to the one Iezebel wore the one time you met her. You run the fabric between your fingers before moving on. That just felt wrong to you. You stop at a red one, not a deep burgundy red, a vibrant red, and pull it out, looking at it momentarily before turning it around to show Harry who only shrugs and tells you to try it.

You look at yourself in the mirror of the en-suite bathroom off of your room. You feel out of place. Like you stand out too much. As if that’s not how you’ve felt this entire time. The dress stops a little lower than your mid-thigh and hugs your waist in a way that you love. Stepping out of the bathroom finally, Harry’s attention moves from lighting and extinguishing the oil lamp on your vanity and onto you where his eyes go wide.

“I don’t think you have to look much longer, that was easy,” Harry says and you shake your head, a tight smile on your lips. “I’m serious. If it’s that easy every time then I’m glad to help, or maybe I’m just way better at this than I thought” That time you laugh out loud.

“You did absolutely nothing but waste my lamp, don’t flatter yourself Harry” You laugh from the bathroom as you change back into your plain black clothing you were in before. You still don’t know how you feel about the black clothing. It suits you, it suits everyone really, but it doesn’t feel the same as the white. There’s something more comforting about it, it feels lighter. There aren’t a million rules attached to the colour. You don’t have to upkeep some unspoken oath to wear it.

“I have to get going, Haz wants me,” he says as he stands up, making his way over to you.

“What? How do you know?” You question, brows furrowed in confusion, so much so that the rest of your face scrunches up with it.

“I just know, weird things happen in hell, darling,” He says with a chuckle before continuing what he was going to say before. “Try not to stress too much about tonight. He’s not mean, not going to hurt you or anything. He’s just as nervous as you are, trust me.” He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, “Try to have fun, it’ll make things easier”

--

Harrison watches as the small wood post erupts into flames, staring at it as the ash crumbles down and falls onto the floor, the orange edges fading to black. He’s so distracted that he doesn’t even hear the door open.

“Not bad. How long that’d take you?” Harrison knows it’s Tom before he turns around but he still does, only to see him leaning against the wall, arms crossed in front of his chest, face illuminated by the flickering orange of the disintegrating post. Harrison glances back at the post, deciding to let it burn out on its own before turning back to Tom and walking towards him.

“Not long, couple seconds of focus” Harrison opens the door and holds it for Tom who pushes himself off the wall and heads out the door, letting Harrison follow him.

“Really? You’re doing better” Harrison replies with a hum as the door clicks shut behind him, Tom continues, “I could do that when we were ten years old”

“Haha, very funny” Harrison replies dryly to Tom’s comments, hoping he hides hurt from the nerve Tom hit. “Was there something you needed?”

“Just coming to tell you that I’m heading to Earth soon to look for Lucius”

“How long do you think it’ll take?”

“If it takes any longer than a couple days I’ll let you know” Harrison nods and the two are left in silence momentarily. “So when were you going to tell me about the date with the angel you’ve got?”

“It’s not a date. Were just having dinner”

“Okay but normally ‘just dinner’ between two people who are attracted to each other isn’t just dinner”

“You think she’s attracted to me?”

“Her and everyone else in Hell” Harrison feels his cheeks heat up at the thought. “I think it’s a bad idea but nothing I’ve ever said has ever stopped you from doing anything so try to have fun I guess? Oh and wear the red suit with the weird pattern thing and the two different shades of red” Tom gestures in vague shapes across his chest, trying to demonstrate what he was thinking, only making Harrison laugh. Tom stops and deadpans at Harrison.

“No, please keep going,” Harrison says with a laugh.

“Oh shut up, you know what one I mean. Div” Tom rolled his eyes when Harrison only laughed more. “Okay, I’m going to go save a kid or something like that.”

“You go do that. Don’t hurt yourself” Toms already walking down the hall, only responding with a shake of his head.

Tom was right. Harrison did know what suit he was talking about. He buttons up the cuff and looks in the mirror. Admittedly he looked good, or at least he felt like he did. He’d only ever worn this one a few times before but it looked nice. Harrison runs his hand over his rib and down the jacket, feeling the change in texture from the different fabrics. He takes in one deep breath and exhales before going to the dining hall to make sure it was alright before you arrived.

By the time that you had gotten there, Harrison had made sure that the overly large table, the table he never even used for that matter, was gone and replaced with a smaller circular one. Although it made the room seem ginormous and empty, he figured it was better than two people sitting at a table meant to seat forty.

Dinner went well. He thought so. You did too. You told him about Heaven, life with someone powerful as your father, not that he didn’t know what it was like, the two of you compared shitty experiences. He told you stories of him and Tom as children and all the stupid things they did and only sometimes got caught for. He had you laughing so hard that wine nearly came out of your nose, and you had his heart fluttering with every giggle or smile that left your lips. Nevertheless, the stories left you with a small feeling of secondhand dread. What had happened that made them stop being friends?

The two of you wandered the garden behind the castle for a while, neither of you want the date to end. You admired the leaves on the bushes that were maybe only six inches shorter than you, the ones scattered with pretty flowers, while Harrison admired you doing so, never having seen something so beautiful as you. Especially when you seem happy. The small smile on your lips was one he hoped to burn into his mind for eternity, he never wants to forget what you look like right now, eyes bright and endless. Granted, you didn’t see him watching you.

“I didn’t know Hell had anything so beautiful” Your voice was sweet and soft, Harrison wants to hear it over and over for the rest of his life. He’s certain that anything you say would sound like a symphony, beautifully in sync and perfectly harmonized. If you think this is beautiful, you should see yourself, he thinks.

“This garden was probably the only good thing my father ever did. He created it for my mother, an attempt to woo her into marrying him really. She always told me that she would have anyways” He says and you turn around to face him, the smile that you have creates a similar one on his.

“It is gorgeous” is all you say after, continuing to take steps along the garden path.

“Can I ask you something, Y/N?” He says as polite as he can.

“Of course” You respond shaking your head gently, your brows furrow for a fraction of a second, wondering why he’d ask to ask you a question.

“Why did you fall? What did you do?” He asks, genuinely curious. Of course, he’d gotten an answer from you earlier, now he was hoping for something more concrete, something about you is hidden in that answer and he wants to find it.

“I did it on purpose,” You say hesitantly, “Seven sins. It’ll get you down to hell faster than you can say it” You chuckle.

“You’ve told me that but why?” He asks further. You stare at the grown, your feet stepping along the soft dirt in the pathway through the bushes.

“When I was little,” You start, “my mother and I were very close. My whole family was. We all looked out for each other, I tried my best but I was too young at the time to really understand life. I have this vivid memory of my mother and I going into the Great Hall to see my father. That’s what I thought was happening at least. It wasn’t uncommon for us to go see him after work and for us all to go home together”

“Sounds lovely, really” He interjects when you pause.

“It was. It really was. But this time my father picks me up and mother kisses my cheek and there are tears in her eyes. She goes into this one room and my father and I aren’t allowed in. She tells me she loves me and the door shuts behind her. And that was the last time I saw her” You end the story and rub at your eyes. Harrison doesn’t really know how to react, so he stands there, mouth agape momentarily.

“I asked what happened to her when I was older. My dad said she was banished here but never gave me a reason. Never told me what she did” You look up at Harrison and he can see the tears in your eyes, the way they’ve been glossed over with tears, glassy and about to spill over. He moves before he can stop himself, his hands coming to rest against your cheek, his thumb ready to wipe away anything that might start to roll down. He can’t help but notice the way that you lean into his touch as your cheeks start to heat up, your eyes fluttering shut for a second. It hurts but he knows that he has to say this.

“We haven’t had an angel fall in well over million years until you” He hopes you ignore the way his voice cracked and put the pieces together on your own so he doesn’t have to explicitly say that she’s not here. So he doesn’t have to tell you that you fell for nothing. You start nodding, his hand finally falling from your cheek. “I’m sorry”

“I know. It’s okay, don’t worry” You wipe your eyes and continue through the garden, exiting the tall bushes and finding the flowers which seem to cheer you up somewhat. You squat down to look at some pink camellias, admiring them, Harrison can’t help but to notice the red spots on your back, right where your wings would be.

“Does that hurt?” He asks and you stand up.

“Hm? Oh only a little bit”

“Here, let me help,” He says and you turn around, pulling your hair over one shoulder to grant him access to your back. He presses his thumbs into the red spots, causing them to ache for a second before the pain starts to go away. Harrison stops sooner than you would’ve liked him too, his hands falling from your shoulder blades as he comes to stand in front of you. “Better?” he asks, and you nod, giving him a soft smile and a quiet ‘thank you’

“Of course, it’s from your wings growing back, but it shouldn’t last long” He explains and you give him another small nod. The two of you stand there for a moment, your eyes wander the rest of the garden, still in shock of how beautiful it is. Movement from Harrison in your peripherals catches your attention, he’s leaning down and pulling off a flower from the camellias you had just been looking at earlier, he breaks it off from near the ground, leaving minimal blank space in the other flowers and then breaks off the much too long length of stem to something smaller and more manageable as he stands.

“May I?” He asks and raises the flower to accompany the question and you nod with a smile. His empty hand brushes your hair behind your ear before he passes the flower into that hand and places it behind your ear, holding back your hair. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the action. “You really do look stunning Y/N, I’m not sure how clear I made that earlier”

“You made that very clear at dinner, don’t worry” You chuckle and his hand slips down to your cheek once again.

“Well, then this is me reminding you” He smiles, its toothy and adorable and you swear your heart melts right there. You don’t notice how much either of you had been leaning towards the other until you can feel his breath warm against your skin, sending chills down your spine

“Thank you” Your lips brush against his when you speak, teasing at more. It sends a spark across Harrison’s lip that he’s dying to feel again.

Harrison caves. He tilts your jaw up and pressed his lips against yours, the sparks come back, flurrying through every nerve in his body. He’s got both hands on your cheeks now as if he needs to feel that this is real, like if he lets go you’ll be gone, slipped through his fingers. Your hands come to rest where his collar bones meet his shoulders and soon enough they slide up, across the fabric of his dress shirt, his suit jacket still on the back of his chair in the dining room, and your hands clasped together behind his head, pulling him impossibly closer. If you could live in this moment forever you would, but the two of you are starting to run out of air, there isn’t even time to open your eyes before your lips are back on his after the momentary breath. You can feel him smile into the kiss and it makes you smile too until the two of you are giggling so much that you can’t even focus on kissing the other. Your foreheads rest together as you catch your breath, Harrison is the first to speak.

“Fuck” is all he says, making both of you laugh. You’d let him kiss you until you were black and blue. He continues; “Where have you been all my life"  

tags:

mep:

@sunflowerparkerr @thirsty-hoes-central @deleteidentity @buckystolemyheart @youngandfleeting @peterbrokenparker @babyplutoszx2 @crazyfreaker @writing-in-winter @awesomeaugustina @agirlwithpointlessideas  

haz:

@definitely-not-black-cat @hjosterfield @imagines-andshizz @thequeensardine @artemisiaarm @sincerelymlg @butithasntkilledyouyet @bitchymathematician @ixchel-9275 @honeyyhuggs @nedthegay @ohyouremymedicine @awkwardfangirl2014 @parkerpeterholland @screeching-student-unknown @musicalburrage @itsrecklesscalum @jjasalem @practicallylivesonline @phia-eilice @osterfieldholland01 @happymagicbee @headsup-itsmostlypeter @starlightfound @empressdreams @isabellyduh​

[watchmegetobsessed]

BLACK&WHITE (part 1)

A/N: alright alright, so... im back with another series, huh. i took the advice to make the parts shorter so they are easier to read, chapters will be around 4-5k words. im really hoping you guys will like the story, it came from such a sudden idea but im glad i decided to write it! wanted to have a posting schedule but honestly it stresses me out if im behind with the writing so i'll just go with the flow. feedback is VERY MUCH APPRECIATED plssss let me know what you think about the chapter!! i really want to hear your thoughts!

PAIRING: long hair college!Harry X Mitch's little sister!Reader

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

SERIES MASTERLIST

It’s been two entire weeks since school has started and you have made exactly one (1) friend. Your roommate. And you might not even consider Bonnie your friend, because basically you’re just forced to hang out since you live together, but Bonnie has her own little circle and she hasn’t invited you out to meet her friends. But it would be pathetic to admit that you failed to befriend anyone so far and it’s definitely not how you imagined your first year in college.

Scrolling through Instagram you see that all of your old classmates are having the time of their life, going to parties, hanging out with their new friends, having lunch and dinner together, it’s all picture perfect while your last post was about the day you moved in, a nice, aesthetic photo of your little candles set up on your nightstand, the capture telling about how excited you are about this new chapter. Well, it feels like you got stuck on the first page, alone.

Huffing with a grunt, you hop off your bed, pacing around, trying to figure out what to do so you don’t feel like a total loser. You could go for a run, but it rained in the morning so everything is saggy and wet… Or you could go get a coffee, read some at a cute little table and maybe someone might find you mysterious and interesting enough to walk up to you and want to be friends with you!

Okay, that only happens in movies, but it was nice to play with the thought at least. God, why is it so hard to make friends? Or is something wrong with you? Are you really this awkward? Thinking about it, you’ve known all your friends at home since kindergarten and back then it was enough to just ask someone if they wanted to be friends and boom, then you were friends! But that’s not how it works now and as the days carry on you see everyone finding their circle while you’re left out, slimming your chances to make friends. Because who would want to be friends with the girl who couldn’t get to know anyone for weeks after school started?

Reaching for your phone you look for the contact you really wanted to reserve to the worst case scenario. Calling your brother’s girlfriend to ask if she wants to hang out is not quite how you planned it, but she is your last chance to get out and socialize. Maybe she could introduce you to some people!

“Hey hun! What’s up?” Sarah’s cheerful, chirpy voice rings through the phone as you plop down to the bed, anxiously fidgeting with the fabric of your sweatpants.

“Hi, are you busy?”

“Not at all! Just heading back to my place to get some stuff and spend the night at your brother’s.”

“I was just wondering if, um… if you maybe wanted to hang out? I don’t know, you can totally say no, it’s just that—“

“Y/N, slow down,” she chuckles cutting your rambling off. “Why don’t you come over to Mitch’s too? They are having a few people over, we could catch up and all that, how does that sound?”

“You think he won’t mind?”

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t,” she giggles. “See you there around eight, alright?”

“Thanks Sarah!”

Your brother started dating Sarah freshman year and they’ve been together ever since, now they are seniors and already planning to move in together once they have graduated and they are the cutest ever. Sarah is so great, she made you feel like you’ve been friends forever when you first met her when Mitch brought her home for thanksgiving that first year. She is sweet, open, such a charming person, almost too good for your brother. She could have easily blew you off, why would she want to hang out with a freshman as a senior, but she invited you with them without a second thought. She is your savior.

Sarah said they would have a few people over. That’s what she said, right? Well, this surely doesn’t seem like a chill get together in the frat house where Mitch lives, the music is blasting, the house is packed, and there are red solo cups everywhere you look. You definitely did not expect a full blown frat party.

Walking in you push past a couple that’s quite busy inspecting each other’s throat, you reach for your phone to text Sarah where she is, but you spot her before you could do that, talking to someone in the kitchen with a cup in her hand, her lips painted red that go amazing with her red dress and denim jacket.

“Hey! You’re here!” she exclaims when she spots you approaching her and she pulls you into a hug right away.

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell me it was a whole ass frat party,” you chuckle looking around.

“Ehh, you know how it is, people find out about it and then there’s no stopping after that,” she shrugs, pulling you further into the kitchen. “Want a drink?”

“Oh, yeah I’ll just—“

“Absolutely no alcohol!”

Your brother’s voice beams behind you and a moment later he appears, grabbing the apple juice from the counter to pour some into a cup for you. Great, now you feel like a toddler. At least he didn’t give you a Capri Sun.

Mitch is three years older than you, yet he has always acted like he is your supervisor, the one who needs to know everything about you, especially after your parents got a divorce when you were only ten and you only saw your dad every other weekend. Though he couldn’t be up in your business when he left for college, but he still demanded you had your location on at all times and he would call you randomly, asking where you’ve been and who you’ve been with.

“Oh, come on, babe. She can have at least a beer!” Sarah rolls her eyes at Mitch who shows the cup into your hand.

“Maybe when she is twenty-one,” he scoffs with a hard expression on his face.

“As if you waited until you were twenty-one,” she points out, making you laugh. You know he’s been sneaking around with his friends since he was sixteen, you also remember the first time he came home drunk, you helped him to hide from your mom until he sobered up. Your brother is no saint, but it’s best if he doesn’t know that this wouldn’t be your first time drinking.

“If I see you sneak around and drink, I swear—“

“You what, gonna call mom?” you scoff at your brother.

“Might, yeah!” he huffs, but you both know he won’t.

“Yo! Mitch! Come over here!” someone calls out for him from the living room and he nods their way.

“Stay with Sarah, okay? Don’t want you lingering around on your own,” he tells you before disappearing.

Part of you debate whether you should rebel and split from Sarah, but what would you do on your own? Walk around awkwardly, be a creep in the corner of the room? You’d rather not, so you stick to her like glue as she moves from one person to the other like the true social butterfly that she is.

It’s clear that Sarah is popular and it’s definitely not because she is dating someone from one of the coolest frats. No, your brother has nothing with how people are just drawn towards her, craves to be seen by her, to talk to her. You wonder what it’s like to be like her, to earn the attention without even asking for it…

Harry wasn’t a fan of having yet another party in their house, he would have been happier if it was really just a few people over, playing video games, having a few beers and then call it a night at a reasonable time. But of course, his mates had to go around campus and tell everyone that their door would be open tonight so now here he is, trying to find his will to socialize, but hiding in his room now sounds like perfect.

Sitting outside on the terrace, on the old couch he and the other boys in the house got for dimes, there’s a girl on each of his side, begging for his attention, topping each other with everything they say, not even realizing that he is not too interested in any of them. There was a time when Harry would definitely take up on the task to pick up both girls and bring them up to his room, when he was seeing a different girl every other weekend, but it gets old and tiring. It doesn’t interest him anymore to be the Casanova of the campus, he is done waking up to a different girl whose name he doesn’t even remember, he is done with using girls just as much as they use him. Because he is not stupid, he knows that sleeping with him is like a trophy for some girls, something they can brag about to their friends, make other girls jealous so he never felt like an asshole for using them for his own relief.

Maybe the change came after he started noticing how Mitch, his best mate has been with his girlfriend. How happy he is with Sarah, their little dates, the way they touch and look at each other. At first he thought it was ridiculous and sickening, acting like puppies in love, but the more time he spent with the two of them the more he found himself craving the same thing. Someone to talk to and not just falling into bed after two words, someone to do things with, someone who he could call when he was having a bad day and who’d take care of him. The more he thinks about it the more he wants it, but with who? Most girls don’t think of him as someone they would want to be in a relationship with and they wouldn’t give him the time of the day for more than just a night. Not that he has met anyone he could imagine himself with, so lately he has found himself pulling away from the parties, the drinking and the girls, though it’s hard to change when no one thinks you can. His friends think he’ll be back to his old habits soon and girls still believe they can get him to rock their word for just a night.

“I’m gonna get a refill,” he mumbles, standing from the couch, shaking the hands of the girls off of himself. He ignores as one of them asks to bring her a drink too, mostly because he is not going to get a refill but to hide in his room for a bit, hoping the party will end early, not that it seems possible, everyone is enjoying themselves way too much.

Lying in his bed he is answering some messages and starts scrolling through Instagram only to see most of his friends shit posting about tonight’s party. He notices himself in some of the photos, sporting an unimpressed look in almost all of them and the worst is when he spots himself in the back of a video, a girl behind him curling his hair around her finger without him noticing it. Like a fucking animal in the petting zoo, that’s how he feels like. Growing out his hair was mainly because he knew girls would like it, but then it grew on him more than he thought so now it’s part of his image rather than a tool to get girls.

Groaning he lies flat on the mattress, closing his eyes for a bit, the thumping bass of the music ripping through the house. He wishes it would just stop and the people would disappear.

His room shares a wall with Mitch’s and when he hears the door to his room open and shut, he thinks that someone has ventured into his friend’s room for a hookup which would flip Mitch over for sure. Walking out of his room Harry sees that Mitch’s door is open.

“You guys better not be fucking in here,” he warns whoever is inside, but as he pushes the door further open he only sees one person inside, a girl who jumps and turns around like a scared little deer at his arrival and Harry freezes. “Y/N? Is that… is that you?” he huffs in surprise.

Last time Harry saw you was three years ago. Back then you were just a freshman in high school, looked a lot different, since puberty hit you in your sophomore year, when he was already off to college with your brother who has been his best friend for a decade, being classmates since middle school, all through high school and then going to the same collage.

Harry was always that hot friend of your brother you had a crush on since forever, but for him, you were just Mitch’s little baby sister, who had to be looked after all the time. Harry spent a lot of time at your house, hanging with your brother in the basement and you remember spying on them, trying to always be around them so he might notice you, but looking back at it you see that it was a dead case from the beginning. Harry was popular even in high school, he was on the football team and even dated one of the cool girls for a while. And you? You were years younger than him, had your own circle of friends but you weren’t too popular. The only reason why you weren’t on the bottom of the social pyramid was because Mitch was your brother. Every now and then girls tried to act like they were friends with you just so they could be around Mitch and Harry, but they never really cared about them. They were seniors and you and your friends were freshman, two different worlds.

But that never stopped you to secretly crush on Harry, imagine a day when he would look at you as more than just Mitch’s little sister, that he would take an interest in you. One time you even dreamed about him asking you out to prom, but that was probably the most farfetched idea you had.

You haven’t seen him since he started college, coming home he didn’t spend as much time at your house as he used to, wanting to be around his own family and when summers rolled around you were busy with volunteering so you had something to put on your college application. You saw him once last year from your window when he dropped Mitch off, but you only caught a glimpse of him through the windshield. His hair was getting long, he had several new tattoos on his arm and it all just made him even better-looking than before. Now he is standing right in front of you, his hair longer than ever, the white shirt showing off his inked arm and those tight pants… they should be illegal.

“H-Hi,” you manage to breathe out, already feeling flustered by the way he looks you up and down with no shame.

Harry wonders if it’s just a trick his head is playing with him or it’s really you. The girl he is staring at right now is so different from the one he last saw on the day they moved to campus with Mitch. The awkward little girl with braces is nothing like your version now. You have curves that catch his eyes right away, a beautiful set of teeth without braces, your hair has grown a lot since the last time he was around you… No doubt you’ve grown up and it’s a complete shock for him.

“Wow! I mean… You’re here!” he chuckles before pulling you into a quick hug, but he instantly regrets, because he feels your breasts pushing up against his chest and his hand maps out the curve of your waist, giving him thoughts he definitely shouldn’t be thinking about.

“I am, yeah,” you nod awkwardly, pulling back from him with a dizzy head since you just wrapped your arms around his toned upper body.

“Mitch mentioned that you are studying here as well, but I didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”

“Sarah invited me. I haven’t exactly made many friends since school started so I thought she could, I don’t know, introduce me to a few people,” you admit, but why are you even telling this to Harry? You can’t quite control yourself around him, especially now, when he is looking his best.

“And Mitch let you come here? I’m surprised,” Harry chuckles.

“Sarah made him,” you smile up at him.

“And what are you doing in Mitch’s room? You need anything?”

“Oh, I was just… Well, I lost Sarah and I don’t know anyone else around here, so I thought I would just… have a breather in here.”

Harry nods, folding his arms on his chest as he rubs the corners of his mouth and you need to force yourself not to stare at his biceps. You can only hope he doesn’t notice how nervous you are to be around him again after so long. Part of you believed you were over your crush on him, but seeing him again definitely brought back those feelings you’ve been harboring as long as you’ve known him.

“A-And what are you doing up here?” you ask, clearing your throat, desperate to break the silence that came between the two of you.

“Oh, I was just… not in the mood to socialize,” he admits with a soft chuckle, your eyes widening.

“You? Not in the mood? Is that even possible? I thought you were still the party animal you were in high school,” you tease him, making him laugh and roll his eyes at the same time and you try to ignore how the butterflies in your stomach are going wild at the heavenly sound.

“You’re making me look like a licentious rebel.”

“And you’re not?”

Harry stares back at you smirking, enjoying the bickering way more than he’d admit and he doesn’t want to let go of it just yet. The two of you start talking, catching up about what happened in the past three years, though mostly you’re the one talking.

You tell him about high school, volunteering and all the extra classes you took, prom and graduation… Then he tells you stories about him and Mitch as freshmen, stories you’ve heard from your brother but you let him retell you, because you’d listen to anything he says. It’s probably the most you’ve talked… like ever and though you thought you knew Harry well, you have to realize that you only knew a layer of him, only seeing him with your brother around, being just in the background all the time, but now that it’s just the two of you and you have all of his attention, it’s a whole different experience.

Neither of you realizes how much time has passed, you’re laughing about a time when he almost missed his math midterm because one of their house mates almost burned the house down, you’re cackling as he is telling you about it when the door opens and your brother appears.

“Y/N where the fuck have you been? Sarah has been looking for you!” he snaps, only then realizing that you’re not alone, you and Harry sitting on his bed with legs crossed as you hug a pillow to your chest. “What’s going on here?”

“Hey man, just met your sister! You didn’t tell me she’d be here!” Harry beams happily, but Mitch gives him a suspicious look.

“Why would have I told you?”

“Because I haven’t seen her in ages?”

Clearly Mitch wants to say something else, but he just shakes his head and swallows it before turning to you.

“You’ve been here all along?”

“Yeah, just ran into Harry,” you nod, smiling shyly. Mitch’s gaze shifts from you to Harry, then back to you before nodding to himself.

“Alright, it’s late, I’ll drive you back to the dorm.”

“What? What time is it?” you ask with widened eyes, searching for your phone in your pocket. Checking the screen you see that it’s already one in the morning, meaning that you’ve been in here with Harry for over two hours. “Oh… okay…”

“I can drive her home,” Harry offers, getting up from the bed with you. “I didn’t drink all night.”

“I saw you with a cup in your hands, dude,” Mitch furrows his eyebrows at his friend.

“Didn’t have alcohol in it, wasn’t in the mood,” he shrugs. You can tell Mitch is hesitant, but he doesn’t say anything, just nods at Harry as you both get ready to leave.

There’s a bit of awkward silence in the car, but you don’t know how to break it. Luckily, he is the first one to speak up, the gentle light coming from the dashboard illuminating his amazingly structured face.

“So you haven’t made any friends around here?”

“Well, I do occasionally speak to my roommate,” you tell him, but it sounds even more pathetic saying out loud. “It’s just… it’s been a bit more difficult than I imagined,” you admit deflated. Harry peeks over at you, seeing the bitter look on your face and he has to fight the urge to reach over and give your hand a squeeze.

What’s happening with him? He just spent hours talking to you, he jumps at the chance to drive you home just to spend some more time with you and now he wants to touch and comfort you? He just can’t help it, seeing you for the first time after years was a complete shock to him just as much as how you’ve changed.

“You just have to grab a hang of it. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, but everyone is already ganging up, I can’t just go up to a bunch of people and ask if they want to be friends,” you scoff chewing on your bottom lip.

“Well, you have more than just one friend, that’s for sure?”

“Do you know about something I don’t?”

“You have your roommate, you have Mitch and Sarah and… you also have me.”

If only you weren’t sitting in a moving car you would have fallen out of your seat. Harry Styles just called himself your friend and you’re almost a hundred percent sure that it wasn’t sarcastic. No, the little smile on his lips definitely proves that he meant it.

“Friends do things together. Does that mean we’re gonna… do things together?” you ask shyly, nervously fidgeting around in your lap with your fingers.

“Sure, why not?” he shrugs like it’s nothing, but your fifteen years old self is screaming and jumping right now. You’ve longed for this moment for so long and now… it really is happening, you’re not just Mitch’s little sister, but one of his friends, an individual. Harry pulls up in front of your dorm and parks the car looking at you with a smile stretched across his face.

“Alright, then here, give me your number so I can reach you and… make plans,” you tell him, handing him your phone with your heart thumping in your chest like crazy. You really are asking for his number, something you never thought would happen, but it is. And it’s so freaking exciting!

He nods and types his number in, saving the contact as just ‘Harry’ before handing it back to you.

“See you around, Y/N,” he tilts his head to the side as you get out of the car.

“Thanks for the ride, Harry,” you smile back, shutting the door and walking up the stairs to the entrance. Looking back you see that he is still watching you, so you wave at him before walking in and disappearing from his sight.

By the time Harry arrives back to the house it seems like the party is dying down. There are way less people and they’ve turned the volume down as well, thank God. Ignoring the girls calling out his name he heads straight up to his room, wanting to just lock himself up there and not have to deal with anyone, but he stops at the door seeing that Mitch is in there, waiting for him, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Hey man, what’s up?” he asks with a small nod.

“She’s back at the dorm?” he asks, standing up, walking closer to him.

“Yeah, watched her go inside, she is fine.”

Harry steps to his dresser, looking for a fresh set of clothes to wear after his shower as Mitch walks past him towards the door, but before he could disappear, he stops and turns back.

“You know, I hope you’re not thinking about going after my sister.”

“What?” Harry’s head snaps up. Mitch leans against the doorframe, arms crossing over his chest as he stares back at his best friend with eyes Harry has never seen directed at him before.

“It’s just that I saw how you were looking at her, I really don’t want you to bring her into your little games.”

Harry clenches his jaw, Mitch’s words hurt more than he realized. Knowing that his own best friend thinks he hasn’t changed, that it’s all just a game to him still, it’s like a slap across his face. What should he say? Swear to his life that he doesn’t see his sister that way? That he is not the guy he used to be and he doesn’t have to fear his sister?

Harry hasn’t even figured out what seeing you again meant. Because part of him is still stuck on your past self, the one he saw sitting in the car, driving back home with your parents on move in day three years ago, but then there’s this version he saw today, the grown and mature Y/N who is definitely not a little girl anymore and who got his undivided attention tonight without even trying. It was so refreshing to talk to a girl without her wanting to get into his pants as fast as possible. All he knows is that he wants to talk to you again, he wants to see you again, but as he is looking at Mitch right now, he knows that his best friend will take his head if he messes with you, not that he plans to hurt you.

“Don’t worry, Mitch. I know my place,” he mumbles under his breath, his friend nods before walking out and closing his door, leaving him leaning onto his dresser, gripping the edge so tight his knuckles are turning white.

Maybe Mitch is right. Maybe he hasn’t changed and never will. Maybe he was destined to never find someone who could be like Sarah to his friend.

And that thought is more terrifying to him than he’d like to admit.

NEXT PART

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

[shhh-no-ones-home]

witch wolf? (5/5) chris motionless x wereworlf!reader

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part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

this is the final installment! thanks to everyone whos read this series (and liked it lol), i appreciate yall. im also thinking of turning this into an actual book but it will probably take me a hot minute since im working on another few projects right now. but as always when its ready i will let yall lovely people know. i will have it published to my wattpad when its done if any of yall wanna read an expanded version.

Song: lil red ridding hood by Amanda Seyfried

tag list: @thisplace-ishaunted @ryansitkowskiswifey @alilpunkrock @theoneandonlykymberlee @svintsandghosts @cynic-spirit @buryallyourbones @chriscrosscerulli

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I walked down the hall, shoulder to shoulder with Chris. We had just arrived to the hotel and were the only two that had managed to slack off and be late to check in. Per usual.

"So, what kinda stuff can you actually do?"

He joked and I laughed at him, pushing my room key into the door and opening it for us.

"I don't know, what can a regular wolf do? What can a dog do?"

He sent me a look, dropping his bag on my bed.

"You know what I meant."

I shook my head, dropping my bag down too.

"I know I know but seriously, whatever they do so can I. Pretty much."

He sighed and sat down.

"Okay but is it closer to Remus lupin or serious black?"

He sent me a look as I sat down next to him.

"You saw me transform Chris, you tell me. You're the harry Potter expert after all."

I nudged him, making him smile at me.

"You are absolutely right but like I wanna know how it feels. Is it like being an actual dog or are you completely feral?"

I shook my head at him.

"When am I not completely feral?"

I joked. He just rolled his eyes at me. Sending me a look like 'really?'. I put my hands in the air in surrender.

"Okay okay, yes it's a bit of it all. When I first change I'm basically as feral as it gets. It takes so much energy changing into and changing back I'm pretty much starving almost immediately and can't think of anything other than eating or hunting."

He motioned to me.

"Which I saw when you completely annihilated that deer."

I laughed a little, nodding.

"Exactly, unless I absolutely eat my weight before hand but who has time for that ya know? Or at least I don't on the road, it's a little easier at home."

He just sent me a weird look and shook his head a little bit at the thought. I let out a nervous Laugh.

"I digress. Um, Aside from eating everything, Normally, when I don't have to run all night like now I just do normal dog slash wolf things."

I made a slashing motion with my hand for emphasis.

"At home I normally change out back so it's easier to clean up and then come in and just lounge around the house."

He drew his brows together.

"Wait don't you have a roommate though?"

I let out another nervous laugh.

"Yeah that was an interesting conversation to have when I interviewed her to be my roommate. But we got along great and she's a lunar type witch too and has helped me tremendously."

I nudged his arm again.

"Plus it's like having a self serving dog in the house and who wouldn't want that?."

We both laughed and he shook his head at me.

"Okay but When do you sleep?"

I shrugged.

"We both usually sleep during the day. She has a night job and I of course do this and traveling stuff and modeling and all that so I kind of make my own schedule. around the full moon usually of course."

He looked a little confused.

"And you took this job even knowing you'd change while on the road?"

I let out a short Laugh.

"Yeah I didn't really think about that when I did it to be honest. I was so excited that you guys wanted to work with me I jumped on the opportunity without even checking. But I'm making it work. Kind of."

He nodded in understanding.

"I guess that makes sense. But back to the question at hand. Are you really just like a big dog? Like at home and stuff?"

I looked at him a little funny.

"Yes?"

He cracked a mischievous smile.

"So you like, like belly rubs and ear scratches and stuff?"

I sent him an annoyed look as he tried to stifle a laugh. I knew what he was doing.

"Actually yes you big dork."

I said in all seriousness and His face sort of went straight.

"Wait really?"

I raised a brow at him.

"Yes dummy, what dog wouldn't? Just cause I'm a changling doesn't mean I don't act on instinct. My tail wags when I'm happy, I shed all over the couch, and all my shit is constantly covered in dog hair. Not to mention the air fresheners we have to have because of the blatant dog smell. Not only that but when I'm changed I will beg for and eat everything. Thats one of the things my roommate hates about the transition."

I laughed a bit at the thought and He nodded in understanding. He sort of perked up at the dog smell thing and I could see him thinking back to when he was last to our house.

"Now that you mention it I did notice Your serious affinity for candles."

I smiled at him, amusement spreading across my features and making me shiver a little bit.

"I guess a lot of my behaviors probably make sense now huh?"

He side nodded a little bit, looking over at me.

"Kinda yeah."

I sighed.

"Yeah."

I watched as a smile slowly crept it's way across his face.

"You do those things in human form too?"

I rolled my eyes at him, laughing a little bit and looking down at my intertwined fingers.

"Only sometimes."

I said, looking at him and winking at him. His face dropped.

"Wait really?"

I stuck my tongue out at him.

"You say that too much ya know that?"

He blushed, smiling and scratching the back of his neck.

"I guess it calls for it right now. I'm just in such disbelief I guess I just don't know what else to say."

I nodded slowly.

"I get that, it's not everyday you meet a monster. Or one that's willing to sit and chat about it for that matter."

He half smiled at me, nudging my arm.

"I don't think you're a monster."

I looked down at my lap, trying to hide the small blush creeping it's way onto my face.

"Thanks Chris, that means a lot, but you don't know me know me."

I looked back up at him and he frowned.

"Hey, aren't you the one who said my intuition was great or something?"

I laughed a little bit, looking back down and shaking my head.

"Actually I said you were intuitive when you felt like it but sure we'll go with that."

He sat upright, looking all high and mighty.

"Well I'd say that right now I'm feeling like it and I say you aren't a monster. Whether I know you well enough or not."

I looked up at him and smiled.

"Thanks Chris, that means a lot."

He looked down at me before exhaling deeply and slouching back down.

"What are friends for right? Assuming you see me as a friend."

I nodded.

"I wouldn't have let you see me change if I didn't. And, I guess you see me differently than I thought you did, at least enough to be scared out of your mind at the sight of me in my other form and still want to stick around."

He drapped his arm over my shoulder and pulled me into his side, looking down at me.

"Something tells me you have had many a bad experience with that, but I'll assure you right now I'm not going anywhere. Big bad wolf or not."

I laughed at him and wrapped my arm around his waist, hugging him back.

"Well I'm glad to hear that. But does that make you red ridding hood now?"

He grinned at me.

"Only if you'd want me to be."

I nodded.

"I'll promise I won't eat you."

I said, winking at him and making him laugh.

"Thanks, that means a lot."

[blondecarfucker]

Bed of Roses (Last Chapter - 21)

Roger Taylor x Reader

BoRhap!Roger Taylor x Reader

Fic Summary: It's 1971. You just moved to London to study, and you find a band on a local pub after a bad date. The encounter doesn’t go the way you expect it, and neither does what follows this evening as you try to deal with loving Roger Taylor.

Fic Note: So I’ve had this story in my head for the last three weeks and finally decided to write it down. It’s completely planned. It will have 21 chapters and it’s divided in three acts: Dusk, Night and Dawn. It’s will be a bit angsty in the future, and it will most likely have some smut as well. I hope you guys enjoy it! Tell me what you think about it in the asks/comments/messages. If this is your first time stumbling upon Bed of Roses, thank you for stopping by! The rest of the story is in my masterlist, the link is in my bio - can't put the link here or else the post will disappear from the tags.

Chapter's notes: THE LAST CHAPTER. I CANT FUCKING BELIEVE. i feel like before i start my thank yous i could give you some weird trivia on the story. i wrote the entire outline for the fic at a weekend shift at work, where i always have free time. i had some smaller ideas - them meeting at a bar and not seeing again, the whole kensingon-taxi-class thing from the beginning - but there was a sudden burst of inspiration and in like twenty minutes the outline was done, and very little has changed, i mostly just added some more details. also, i imagine the reader as alicia silverstone in the 90s?? idk. i just do. also, the reader thing with new york comes from the fact that i lived there for a while and i miss it so much, so thats why theres so much detail about places and stuff - its my form of revisiting my favourite spots there. also, will (REMEMBER WHEN) was written with sebastian stan in mind, and liv tyler (in her lord of the rings days) was poppy. i did too much research for this fic on queen history, and everytime i had to change something (especially in the first act) so the dates made more sense, it KILLED ME.

anyway, now the thank yous: SHIT THIS FIC IS SUCH AN IMPORTANT CHAPTER ON MY LIFE. its my first time writing such a long story without abandoning it, and my first time writing fiction in english, so i learned so much!! i was doing some research the other day, and the great gatsby is like 47k words long, and the first harry potter is around 70k words long - bed of roses is around 60k words long. this is crazy.

it's also my first story to get this many readers interacting with me, and i'm so grateful for you all!! i thought about thanking you all by name, but i dont want anyone to feel left out so i just want every and each one of you reading these words to know: if you read my story, thank you. thank you for giving me your time of the day, thank you for connecting with what i wrote, thank you for telling me in any way possible that you've enjoyed it. thank you. a writer must write, but theres not a lot of joy in talking to an empty room. you filled my small room with warmth and love and there's not enough words to express my gratitude for you all. thank you.

about my writing: i plan on FINALLY DOING THE MANY REQUESTS I HAVE IGNORED OVER THIS FINAL ACT OF BED OF ROSES - requests are still open, too! i'm also outlining a smaller roger x reader fic where she's one of the videographers on the news of the world documentary, so keep an eye out for that! i'm gonna open a permanent taglist for the requests (and eventual new fic), so if you want to be added, hit me up in the ask box/comments/inbox!

anyway i'll finally wrap up this chapter's note cause you have the final chapter to read. enjoy my loves

Words: nearly 4k

Warnings: none??? part of their dialogue is inspired by some of my favourite movies and books like her and the wife and almost famous and before sunrise and the fault in our stars and eternal sunshine of the spotless mind and maybe more I DONT KNOW ITS BEEN AN EMOTIONAL RIDE OK I CANT EVEN REMEMBER WHERE DID I PULL THIS FROM EXACTLY. some errors too cause i didnt revise it completely my bad im crying ok

 ACT 3 - DAWN

"It's the moment night time seems weaker and everything seems easier to figure out"

 Chapter 21

Roger lit a cigarette in the train cabin, and tried to open the top window, the one you can usually pull open.

"Rog, it's not gonna open, you know", you told him as you watched him fiddling with the glass.

"I guess you're right. Hope you won't be bothered by the smoke", he said, taking a puff.

"I won't if you share it with me", you answered, and with a half smile on his lips, Roger lifted the cigarette to your lips, and you breathed in the smoke while looking at him through your lashes.

"Don't look at me like that. Especially if the cigarette smoke is going to leave the cabin sultry and hot", he told you, and you laughed.

"Yeah, and we won't do anything about it", you said, trying to make yourself more comfortable in your seat.

"And why is that?", he asked, batting his lashes innocently at you, you you lightly elbowed his ribs.

"We need to do something else, something we've been ignoring the whole trip", you said, and he raised his brow. "We need to talk about us", you told him, and he breathed out, smoke coming out of his nose.

"I guess you're right again", he said, then slid a bit down on his seat.

You didn't think much about talking about your future with Roger while in Paris, so now has to be the time, on a train that will take you to London and to a whole month of Roger being away, promoting News Of The World.

While in Paris, you never talked to Roger about the future, and talks of the past where subtle - you talked about how you felt with the development Doctor Who took over the years, but didn't think much about the fact that you were separate during years of the show.

You enjoyed the city, but most of all, you enjoyed each other's presence, not only going to museums, churches and castles around you, following them up with fancy dinners and walks along the Seine, but you also spent time inside the room, in your pajamas, ordering take out from restaurants you found on the phone book, having a hard time trying to speak french as Roger tickled the sole of your feet and kept trying to distract you.

You would always remember the peace you felt as you ate cheap chinese food on Roger's shirt on the balcony at night, the Eiffel Tower shining over your meal and Roger's electric blue eyes as he hummed early David Bowie's songs under his breath, or how at home you felt sitting on the couch, Roger on the floor with his head on your lap, his soft strands on your fingers as you tried to braid them while watching re-runs of I Dream of Jenie, Roger focused, trying to understand the french dubbing until he noticed what you were doing.

"Babe, are you trying to braid my hair? Think I'd look better if I'd look more girly?", he said, moving his head back so he can look at you.

"Yeah. Always thought so, but I'll have to keep imagining, since your hair is too short to braid", you pouted, and he laughed.

"Don't you like my new hair, then?", he asked, pouting back, and you moved your head to his level so you could press a quick kiss to his lips.

"I love it, Rog. Especially cause since it's shorter, it looks even messier after I pull it", you said, and he smirked. "My favourite look of yours is when you're all dishevelled after sex", you winked, teasing him.

"That's my favourite, too", he said, turning completely around and pulling you in for a kiss, his hand on the back of your neck.

But now, while in the smoke filled train cabin, you needed to make a few things clear.

"I've been avoiding this for a reason", he said, looking out the window, and you raised your brow, waiting for him to explain. "I have this weird, innate fear of you telling me it's all good but you don't want to see me again, or something", he said, and you gave him a half smile.

"I don't want to do this, Rog. And I won't do it", you told him, and he sighed in relief.

"Even though loving you is a bit complicated, I'll admit. Especially if you're me", you shrugged, and he turned to you, confused.

"Let me explain. I loved your idea for a bed of roses, a few days ago, cause it can exemplify our relationship so well. The roses feel so good against the skin, the smell is so intoxicating, it looks so beautiful - maybe too beautiful, ethereal, even. But then there's always a few thorns here and there, and they hurt so much when they lodge themselves on my skin, but I'm so intoxicated by the whole experience that I don't mind - I convince myself that it's nothing, and even that it's already part of me already, cause the thorns fit so perfectly on me, on my little stabs made by myself, by my own insecurities", you say, and he stares at you.

"What I'm trying to say is that every minute that I'm with you always distract me from the issues that come with being with you - the fact that there's a few expectations that come with being your serious girlfriend, be them always travelling with you while we're young, or eventually staying home once we have kids, knowing that you'll eventually cheat on me with a younger version of myself, while I'm too tired of taking care of the babies to even think about my sexual needs", you said, and you watched him frown.

"I'm not sure where you're going with this-", he started saying, but you cut him off.

"Let me finish, I promise it will get better", you said, fixing your posture as you start again. "But the thing is, I love you. I always have, ever since I started talking to you, you always trying to outflirt me, always seeing me as your equal. You desire me, but you also listen and see me as another human being, you never back down or ignore me if I challenge one of your beliefs, and you never treat me as a trophy-wife-to-be", you say, and you can feel your eyes fill with tears, but you're smiling. That's what you always loved about Roger. He smiled back at you.

"And because I love you, I don't want to deny myself the pleasure of being with you. I'd rather be in a bed of roses than in an empty bed - or worse, a blank bed, someone being there just so it's less cold at night. I want to be with you, Rog", you say, and he pulls you in for a hug, and you hold him back for a few moments before pulling away and looking at him in the eye.

"But also because I love you and I want to be with you, Rog, I don't want us to try to fit into this type of relationship I just mentioned. I don't want you to make me the other woman, either, when you eventually find someone so you can settle down, if it's not me" you said, rubbing your nose. "I guess I want to settle down with you, eventually, as we planned before, but this whole thing - living together and cheating if we're away for too long - it kills me, and I think it kills you, too. I respect you too much to want to cheat on you again, cause if I ever do and you never find out, I'll lose respect for you, and the same thing will happen if you cheat on me and I don't find out. And these are ugly truths, but this isn't our first time together; we know each other, we need to think about this", you told him, and he nodded.

"And I need to make it clear that I'll never be a simple rockstar housewife - I'll never be able to quit my job and look out for the kids while you travel the world and I make them lunch. I'll never be able to sit down on a dinner table on some award show with you and when someone asks me what I'll do, I'll smile as I say I'm a king-maker. I'm not", you said, firmly.

"And I'll never be satisfied with dumb spa and shopping trips as you do the actual work when we travel. If I have to live this life, I'll resent you, and I don't want that. I like being domestic with you, but this type of forced domesticity will poison us again - we're both too wild, too career-focused, for this. We've always been similar", you said, and he gave you a smile as you sighed. "I guess that's all I have to say", you shrugged, and he laughed. "Not much, right?", he said, running his fingers on his hair, pulling the strands back.

"Guess it's my turn now", he said, and you nodded, encouraging him. "When I saw you again, at the pub, there was so much that I wanted to say. I mostly wanted to apologize - it got lost as I got infatuated with you again, and tried to get you in bed - you know, usual stuff", he winked, and you laughed.

"But yeah, I kept looking at you while you updated me on your life, your skin glooming under the stars and the moonlight, and I couldn't stop thinking about all the things I wanted to apologize to you for. All the pain we caused each other. Everything I put on you. Everything I needed you to be or needed you to say. Cause no matter what - even if you had decided on never seeing me again after all this - I'll always love you, because we grew up together. And you helped make me who I am", he said, moving strands of your hair behind your ear.

"I just want you to know that there will always be a piece of you in me, always. Whatever someone you become, wherever you are in the world, however this" he said, pointing his finger to the two of us "works out, in whatever form it might take", he said, sighing "I'll always send you love. Before being anything else to me - and I hope to God you're always something more - you'll always be my friend, to the end", he told you, and the tears were already streaming down your cheeks. His cheeks soon mirrored yours.

"And now, after you so eloquently told me all your fears about our future, I need you to know something else, too", he said, as you wiped the tears under your eyes. "I always loved you for being the way you are. You always challenge me, you always make me work harder, try harder, to be better. And it's not even something you force me to do; I just follow your lead. The way you look was what first got into me, I won't lie, but the way you are is what made me stay. It's what will always make me stay", he said, a genuine smile on his lips. He made you feel warm, like the sun.

"You're the smartest person I know, you're funny, you enjoy sex, you're unapologetic, you're proud of who you are, even proud of your insecurities. And you have such a huge importance in my life: you made me who I am. Whatever way you want to make us work, I trust you. I just want to be with you, in whatever form it takes", he said, smiling, and then getting up and opening his bag.

"I forgot to give you something", he said, pulling a string out of the front pocket. You recognized the red glimmer. It was the heart necklace. "It's still yours to keep. Even though it's not in its original glory, it will always be yours. The necklace and my heart", he said, and you couldn't help but smile at him.

"Always so cheesy, Taylor", you said, joking as you moved your hair to the side so he could put the necklace on.

"You always loved it", he winked, and you laughed. "I do", you said, smiling.

"So, what does it all mean? Where are we?", you asked, and he shrugged. "Wherever you want us to be. I just hope that you keep me around", he told you sincerely.

"I will. So, we're not going back to our old ways, right? We're not back at sharing a flat and stuff", you said, and he nodded. "Sure".

"And you're going to spend a month away, all around the world. I don't want you to feel pressured not to cheat", you said, and he nodded again.

"Yeah, and you're back in London, starting a new job. I don't want you to be worried, too", he said.

"So, maybe no exclusivity, this time? At least not now. This is still debatable, in the future", you said, and he agreed.

"Makes sense. But I'll have a hard time desiring anyone but you", Roger said in a low voice, and you laughed to break any mood that might have settled. You needed to get things clear before making out in the train cabin.

"Me too, Rog. But I don't want to create any expectations of loyalty because we know each other too well, and I don't want a stupid fight to break this thing we're building together", you said.

"It's a good idea. So, no titles, too? I can't call you my girlfriend?", he said, and you laughed.

"You can, if you want to", you told him, and he pulled you closer to him.

"Good, cause I want to call you that on the News of the World launch party, that I'm hoping you'll go as my date", he said, pressing a kiss on top of your head, breathing in your fruity smell.

"Of course I'll go. I need to see the boys again", you told him, and he laughed.

"So you're not going for me, then?", he pouted, and you laughed again.

"No, I'm just going so I can meet Deacy's kid", you told him, and it was his turn to laugh.

-

Once you got to London, Roger offered to go to the airport alone - he had to get on his flight, and he was late. He knew you had to go home and get ready for work tomorrow, but you wanted to spend as much time with him as possible.

He looked relieved when you got on a cab with him to Heathrow.

"Big day tomorrow, huh", he said, rubbing your arm.

"Yeah, I still can't believe I'm finally going to work at the British Museum. It's so surreal, it feels like a dream. Like I'm living someone else's life", you said, looking out at the window, the early sunday morning reminding you of fresh starts - you were in the middle of one.

"Well, it's your life, and it's your job, cause you deserve it, babe. I never met someone who worked so hard to get where they want", Roger said, smiling, proud.

"I did. You and the boys", you said, and he huffed. "Guess you're right. Me and that pack of idiots, we turned out okay", he joked.

Once you got to the airport, you followed him to his gate.

You were feeling nervous - you had him for a week, and now it's time to say goodbye again.

You're both aware that the rest of the band is already waiting impatiently in the jet, but you can't help it - you hug him, dropping your luggage on the floor, and he does the same, the hug soon turning into a kiss as you rub your hands on each other's body, as if you're trying to remember how every inch of the other feels like, as if you're both about to disappear.

But the airport worker clears her throat, and you break the kiss, looking at each other longingly.

"Don't say goodbye", you beg Roger, putting your hand on his lips as he opens his mouth.

"See you soon", he says between your fingers. You smile at him, grateful he found a way with words so you're not repeating the same old goodbyes.

"See you soon, Roger", you say, hugging him again for a few seconds, just trying to capture every detail - his smell, the feeling of his arms around you, his body against yours.

And once he has to go into the jet, you go to the glass wall, and you can swear you see some familiar faces from the windows of the jet.

But before you can focus, soon Roger's well known face takes over the window you're watching, and he puts a hand on the glass.

You can't help but think about the last time you did that with him, him being on your place as you were inside the plane, moving to another country, your heart weighing down on you, filled with doubts.

But now your heart warmed you up, filled with joy and love, and you could feel Roger's crystal heart on top of your chest. He was right. There would be always a piece of him on you, too.

-

Epilogue: News of the World Launch Party

"Y/N! You're back!" Brian's voice welcomed you to the ballroom.

You squeezed Roger's hand - it was the first time you saw the band in years, and you couldn't help but feel a bit nervous about it.

"Darling, you're really back! We thought Roger was getting high too often and hallucinated a week in Paris with you. But I guess you did come back to him", Freddie said, hugging you by the side as he held a glass of champagne on his other hand.

"I'm back with him only so I can see you all again, of course", you said, winking at Roger as he pretended to be offended.

But then you heard Deacy and Veronica scream your name in unison, and you turned to see them.

"So you're really back!!" Deacy said, but your eyes were on the baby boy on his lap.

"This is the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life.", you said, trying to get his attention. Roger looked at you, adoringly, as you moved your eyes to Veronica.

"Ronnie!! You're so big!" you said, trying to hug her through her belly. "It's coming out in a few months! It's a boy, Michael. Someone our young Rob can play with", she said, and Roger frowned.

"I could swear it was a girl", he said, and John smiled. "Maybe next time", he said.

"Hey, Bob. Do you want to play with me? C'mon", you said, and he motioned to go to your arms. You picked him up as he started playing with your hair.

"You'd be a good mom, Y/N", Veronica said, and you got tense. "God, Ronnie, don't even joke about this", you said, and Roger chuckled. "It's a sensitive topic at the moment", he explained.

"The moment will take quite some time, you know", you told him, the youngest Deacon pulling your earring before playing with the crystal heart on your neck.

You talked to the boys and Veronica for a while, updating each other, but no one brought up how you and Roger got back together. It just felt natural - no need to question.

You stayed with Roger for the whole night - behind the cameras as he did press, by his side during dinner - where he was back at his old ways, teasing you lightly with his hand under the table. You felt good in his arms, getting back into his life.

He was interested in getting back into your life, too. He came back to London last night, and went straight to dinner with you. You were trying different food, and now was time to try Indian food.

As he ate his Chicken Tikka Masala, dipping the naan in the sauce, you invited him for a party your bosses would be throwing next month to celebrate a new exhibit.

He gave you a bright smile. "I'd love to be your date, my love", he said.

And after the Deacons went home - Robert was asleep on his father's lap - the party got louder, the dance floor more full. You could swear you saw an angular face that could only belong to Bowie pick someone to dance - was this Princess Leia? - but before you could process the whole situation, Roger pulled you to dance.

"Thought you didn't dance, Mr Taylor", you told him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you tried to slow dance to All The Young Dudes, by Mott The Hoople.

"I don't dance very well, indeed. But it's just an excuse to be so close to you in public, and God, I'm dying to call you Ms Taylor", he said, and you chuckled.

"Take it slower, Rog", you told him, and he leaned in to rest his head on the curve of your neck. "And why do you want to be close to me in public? Is it still one of your weird fetishes?", you joked, and you felt him laugh against your skin.

"No, it's just that you've been killing me with this dress of yours, and you've been killing a lot of the guys here, too. Could swear I saw Bowie checking you out", he told you, and you gasped.

"Taylor, don't even joke about this. I'd have a heart attack", you said, and he laughed. "You'd leave me here for Bowie, is that it?", he asked, and you laughed.

"Of course not. I just have a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that he might acknowledge my existence", you said, and it was his turn to laugh. "The only eyes I really like to feel on me when I look away are yours, Rog", you said, and he gave you a quick kiss.

"Okay, had enough of trying to dance. Let's get some fresh air", he told you, and you followed him to the balcony.

As the cold, fresh air brushed against your exposed skin, you heard the first notes to Tiny Dancer, by Elton John. You walked to the balcony, leaning in and taking in the view of London at night.

Roger soon took you into his arms, hugging you from behind, and you felt safe, his body heart making you warm in the cold evening as he jokingly whispered "Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man" into your ear, and you scoffed. "Slower, Taylor", you told him, and he laughed.

"However you want it, babe", he said, now paying attention to the view, focusing on the feeling on you in his arms again. Finally.

 But oh how it feels so real

Lying here with no one near

Only you and you can hear me

When I say softly, slowly

 "I could die right now, Y/N. I'm just... happy. I've never felt this type of happiness before. I'm just exactly where I want to be", Roger said in his husky voice, and you nodded lightly in agreement.

Because in Roger's arms, you feel home. You feel what you hoped to feel for years - what got you to move to London in the first place. You feel like you belong.

---

1988 Special

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