#and it just felt disconnected within my group of friends

[clericism]

i'm back from melbourne :))) i'm sleep deprived and feeling a lil not well mentally

[choerypetal]

The Prank / Harry Potter

summary: Being Draco Malfoy’s sister offers significant advantages in Slytherin, with strong platonic ties to Mattheo and Theodore and a protective brother. Consequently, Harry's chance to make an impact might rely on an unfavored prank, providing him an unconventional path to disrupt the existing dynamics.

ps; english ins't my first mother tongue language if any grammar error is seeing through the story, it will be eventually corrected by me. enjoy!

Harry was all too aware of the weight his last name carried. His fame, a double-edged sword, had shaped much of his life and interactions with others. Among his classmates, it was a constant presence, a reminder of his place in their world. But there was one person who had caught his interest in a way no one else had—someone who saw past the fame and into the person behind it. That person was you.

But somehow, just looking at you wasn’t enough for Harry. He had become utterly fascinated by you—by your values, your independence, and, most intriguingly, the stark contrast within your own family name. Being a Malfoy had brought its privileges, but you had carved out your own identity, distinct from the expectations of your lineage. With a fiercely protective brother and a mother who showered you with care, you were surrounded by the trappings of tradition. Yet, you had found a way to stand apart, to be your own person. It was this strength that drew Harry in, making him feel both intrigued and conflicted.

He almost felt ashamed for even entertaining the thought—seeing himself with a Malfoy. It was a notion that seemed impossible, yet it lingered in the back of his mind, impossible to ignore.

It was during a rainy day, early in autumn, when most students sought shelter either in the Astronomy Tower or, like you, found solace in the quiet of the library before lunch. The sound of rain pattering against the windows created a soft background noise as you browsed the shelves, hoping to steal a few moments of peace. Your brother, Draco, and his ever-loyal group of friends had been abuzz with excitement about their latest scheme to alleviate their boredom. 

And, of course, in typical Draco fashion, he was predictably drawn to stirring trouble with Harry Potter. His lack of originality when it came to tormenting the Gryffindor had become almost a routine, a familiar dance between the two. You, however, found yourself growing tired of the same old rivalry, even if it was expected in the Malfoy name. Today, more than ever, you felt disconnected from it all, your mind wandering elsewhere.

As you finally located the book you’d been searching for, Theodore Nott appeared in the hallway, offering you an escort to the cafeteria. It was a small but thoughtful gesture, especially considering that Draco hadn’t even bothered to come get you himself. You smiled at Theo’s presence, appreciating the effort despite your brother’s predictability.

“Theo, you know I can make my way there alone. My brother doesn’t—” you began, but Theo quickly shook his head, cutting you off with a knowing look. His expression suggested that Draco’s insistence had been genuine, or perhaps it was just convenient timing.

“I must indulge you on the matter, Y/N,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “But Draco insisted I pick you up. For subtle measures, of course. He wanted to make sure you weren’t... you know.” His words trailed off, but you knew exactly what he meant. Draco always had his protective streak, often imagining threats where there were none. Theo’s tone was light, but there was an underlying concern from Draco, no matter how overbearing it might seem.

Theodore didn’t need to sugarcoat it—the truth was clear. Draco didn’t want you crossing paths with Potter, and though you hadn’t, the underlying message was always there. “Fine,” you relented with a playful sigh. “And since you’re already here to escort me,” you added with a mischievous grin, “why don’t we intertwine arms and you can whisk me away to lunch? I can’t bear to hear my stomach rumble in protest again.”

Theo mirrored your grin, clearly amused by your sudden shift in tone. Without missing a beat, he extended his arm. “I shall, My Lady,” he said with exaggerated formality, linking his arm with yours as you both made your way to the cafeteria, the earlier tension dissipating into shared humor.

Harry had already been in the cafeteria for a while, arriving before Draco as he slumped at the Gryffindor table. His disheveled appearance and tired eyes were telltale signs that he hadn’t slept well—likely out on one of his late-night excursions around the school. He had probably lost a few Gryffindor house points, for his lack of subtlety, but the consequences didn’t seem to bother him much.

Just as he was about to respond to Ron’s incessant complaints, his eyes shifted naturally, almost instinctively, from his untouched plate to where you entered. He didn’t quite understand how or why it happened. Chosen or not, it felt like a curse. The sight of you—so effortlessly poised—gnawed at something deep inside him, making him feel unsettled, even sick to his stomach. You, a Malfoy, represented everything he should stay away from. Yet, somehow, you always drew his gaze, an unwelcome and persistent distraction that pained him more than he cared to admit.

And there you were, moving with effortless grace, your hair catching the cool autumn breeze that slipped in through the slightly open windows. It swept through the room in a comforting way, though it seemed to stir something far less peaceful in Harry. As you made your way toward the Slytherin table, Pansy’s voice called out, greeting you from afar, but Harry’s gaze had already found you—unbidden, magnetic.

Your eyes met his across the room, and for a brief moment, something like understanding passed between you. His heart clenched at the sight of your slight smile. It was nothing more than a fleeting, innocent gesture, but to him, it felt like a wound. Oh, how he longed to just stand up, walk over, and close the distance between you. Like Draco would. Like Theodore, or any of your friends, could without a second thought. But he couldn't. He was Harry Potter, the Gryffindor hero, and you were a Malfoy. The invisible line between you felt impossible to cross, even as every fiber of his being ached to do just that.

“Y/N,” Draco’s voice rang through the air, sharp and authoritative, instantly pulling you—and Harry—back to reality. Harry’s heart sank as he turned, catching the familiar sneer on Draco’s face. Your brother had a talent for making himself impossible to ignore, and judging by the look he shot Harry, it was clear he wasn’t just here to fetch you. He was delivering a warning.

“You look absolutely ridiculous sitting there,” Draco continued, his voice dripping with irritation as he strode up to you, arms crossed. “People will start to think there’s something going on between you and Potter, and you know what Father would say about that.”

His words carried the weight of the Malfoy legacy, a burden you had carried for as long as you could remember. The invisible chains of expectation wrapped around you, tightening as Draco’s cold eyes bore into yours. Harry clenched his fists under the table, resisting the urge to say something, do something. But he knew better—Draco was already spoiling for a fight, and Harry wasn’t about to give him an excuse. Not here. Not now. Even though his chest burned with frustration, he simply sat there, watching, waiting, and silently hoping you'd choose to defy your brother’s words.

“I know,” you murmured quietly, your words barely audible as you approached the table, your sigh lingering in the cold air. The weight of Draco’s presence pressed down on you, but as you sat, your gaze lingered on Harry for a fleeting moment, catching his eyes once more. It wasn’t just his gaze this time—both Ron and Hermione were watching too, their faces clouded with concern. They knew, just as well as you did, the unspoken rules of your world. A love like this, between you and Harry, was forbidden, as if the mere thought was destined for tragedy.

As you settled in, you caught Harry’s lips moving, his quiet whisper to Ron barely reaching you. "There’s no way I can. Just look at her brother. He wants me dead. I’m not worthy of her love.”

The words stabbed at you, even from across the room. You saw the doubt, the resignation in Harry’s eyes, and it mirrored your own inner turmoil. The weight of your family’s name, the constant scrutiny, and Draco’s looming presence—it all made the idea of being with Harry seem impossible. And yet, the connection between you both felt undeniable, as if the universe had pulled you together in defiance of the very forces trying to tear you apart.

"Not worthy." The words repeated in your mind like a slow, haunting echo. Even as your friends chattered loudly about their next cruel prank on Potter, you could barely register their voices. Your fork hovered over the plate, numbing your movements as your thoughts spiraled. You were barely present, your focus lingering on Harry, on his defeated gaze, on the hopelessness you read in his lips. That was until Draco’s voice slithered in, dripping with arrogance and disdain. “Sister,” he muttered as he leaned in beside you, fingers boldly stealing food from your plate. He didn’t care to mask his smugness as he licked the remnants of the sauce from his fingers, his eyes drifting towards Harry’s table, locking in for a brief moment. His gaze then slid back to you, sharp and accusing.

“A little bird told me it was wrong to stare,” Draco said, his voice taunting, as if daring you to deny it. His smirk deepened as though he had caught you in some hidden act of treason.You quickly turned your head, breaking the invisible connection between you and Harry. Your heart raced with the silent understanding that Draco had seen it—the shared glances, the tension neither you nor Harry could fully conceal.

Draco leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a dangerous whisper, “What’s going on, Y/N? Don’t tell me you've taken a liking to Potter. You know what Father would say. What I’d say.” His tone dripped with malice, a quiet threat laced in every word.

“Especially— when they stare back at us.” 

You rolled your eyes, fixing Draco with your signature glare. His snarky smirk only deepened, clearly enjoying the discomfort he was causing. “Don’t fret, Y/N,” he said, his tone laced with mockery. Theo’s voice cut in, carrying a darker edge. He held his glass with an almost possessive grip, his eyes never shifting towards Harry’s table. “It’s not as if it’s not obvious who he’s obsessed with,” Theo said, his voice filled with disdain. “I don’t like it one bit.”

Mattheo joined in, his presence bustling with energy as he, along with Blaise, added their two cents. He leaned in to peck your cheek, his lips brushing against your skin. “Tell me about it,” he said, his voice low and conspiratorial. “He’s been murmuring your name during Snape’s class. Creepy, if you ask me.”

Their words washed over you, adding to the already heavy tension you felt. You could almost feel the weight of their disapproval pressing down on you, mixing with your own swirling emotions. The combined voices of your friends were a harsh reminder of the precarious position you found yourself in—caught between the expectations of your family, the harsh judgments of your peers, and the undeniable pull you felt towards Harry.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself amidst the growing chaos. “I appreciate the concern,” you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “But can we focus on something else for now? I’d rather not have the entire cafeteria knowing my business.” The conversation shifted as your friends begrudgingly complied, their murmurs fading into the background. But the feeling of being scrutinized, of having your every move and emotion laid bare, lingered, reminding you of the impossible choices you faced.

The realization hit you like a jolt, a spark igniting your curiosity despite the swirling chaos around you. The way Harry’s gaze seemed to follow you with a mixture of longing and helplessness, even in the face of Draco’s and your friends’ disdain, piqued your interest further. His eyes, intense and unwavering, betrayed an emotion that went beyond mere admiration. 

The peck on your cheek from Mattheo, once a simple gesture of camaraderie, now felt like a stark contrast to Harry’s silent, persistent gaze. It was a reminder of the stark divide between what was expected and what was truly felt. The starkness of Harry’s unspoken affection contrasted sharply with the superficial gestures you were accustomed to, like Mattheo’s fleeting touch. You found yourself wrestling with conflicting thoughts. Could Harry’s feelings be genuine, despite the walls and barriers that surrounded both of you? Could he truly harbor something deeper than the casual affection you had seen from others, akin to what you had seen with Riddle’s more manipulative displays?

As the cafeteria noise buzzed around you, you forced yourself to refocus on the present. The day’s events had revealed more than you’d anticipated, challenging your assumptions and stirring a storm of emotions you’d rather not face. In the midst of the laughter and conversations, you felt a renewed determination to understand the depth of Harry’s feelings, and why, despite everything, he continued to look at you with such unwavering intensity. The path ahead was murky, filled with shadows and uncertainties, but you were now more resolved than ever to uncover the truth behind those haunted, hopeful eyes.

Hermione’s nudge seemed to snap Ron out of his distasteful reverie, his eyes shifting to her with a mix of confusion and curiosity. “What was that for?” he asked, his tone laced with irritation but tinged with curiosity.

Hermione, ever the mediator, shot Ron a look that was both reproachful and sympathetic. “It’s just that,” she began, choosing her words carefully, “Y/N’s been dealing with a lot lately. And,” she hesitated for a moment, glancing over at you, who were now engrossed in a quiet conversation with Theodore and Mattheo, “she might not show it, but it’s clear there’s more going on than meets the eye. Harry’s not the only one with feelings here.”

Ron’s expression softened, though his brow remained furrowed. “You think we should—” “—I think we should be supportive,” Hermione cut him off gently. “We don’t know what’s really going on with Y/N and Harry. And honestly, with everything that’s happened, maybe it’s time we gave them the benefit of the doubt. Besides, the last thing we want is to make things worse by adding to the drama.”

Ron nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Alright, fine. But if things get out of hand—” Hermione cut him off again with a reassuring smile. “We’ll handle it. For now, let’s just be here for Y/N and not add more fuel to the fire.”  The conversation shifted as the two of them turned their attention back to their meal, while Hermione’s words lingered in the air, a subtle reminder of the complexities of emotions and the importance of empathy in a world full of uncertainties.

Hermione’s recollection of the party was like a wave of nostalgia mixed with a hint of envy, and her eyes softened as she continued. “You were stunning that night, Y/N. The way the dress accentuated your every move, it was like you were meant to be the center of attention.”

Ron, still blushing, shifted awkwardly in his seat. “And what’s that got to do with anything?” Hermione gave him an understanding look. “Harry’s been thinking about you a lot, Ron. That night, especially. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. It was as if he was caught between admiration and frustration, because he couldn’t get close to you the way he wanted.”

Harry, who had been silently listening, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “You don’t have to bring up the party, Hermione. It’s... embarrassing.” Hermione smiled gently, her tone soothing. “It’s not about making anyone uncomfortable. It’s about understanding that there’s more going on beneath the surface. Harry’s not just pining away; he’s been genuinely affected by you.”

Ron, still flushed but now a bit more thoughtful, glanced at Harry. “So, you really do care about her, huh?” Harry nodded, his gaze earnest. “Yeah, I do. I don’t know how to make it right, but I do care.” Hermione’s expression softened further, and she patted Ron’s arm reassuringly. “See? It’s not all about giving advice or judging. Sometimes it’s about recognizing when someone’s struggling and just being there for them.”

Ron nodded, a hint of understanding dawning on his face. “Alright, I get it. Maybe we should just let things play out and support Y/N, and Harry too.” Hermione gave him a grateful smile. “Exactly. Sometimes the best thing we can do is to just be there for each other and let things unfold naturally.” As the conversation drifted back to other topics, the air was lighter, and the underlying tension seemed to ease. For now, the focus was on navigating the complexities of emotions with a bit more empathy and understanding.

Hermione’s teasing tone was gentle but persistent. “She mentioned you often, Harry. It wasn’t just idle chatter. That night, she was so taken with you that she couldn’t stop talking about how you caught her attention. Even when she tried to play it cool, it was clear she was struggling with her feelings.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably, but a small, genuine smile tugged at his lips. “Really? I didn’t realize I made that much of an impression.”Hermione nodded, her gaze thoughtful. “She tried to keep it hidden, but it was obvious. She spoke about how conflicted she felt, especially with Draco hovering around and her own feelings about the Malfoy name. It’s not just about admiration; it’s deeper than that. She was worried about what people would think, especially considering your past with Draco.”

Harry's eyes widened slightly, realizing the depth of your struggle. “So, she’s been dealing with a lot more than just—” Hermione interrupted gently, “Yes. It’s not just about you being ‘handsome’ or whatever. It’s about her own internal battles and the fear of being judged for her feelings. That night, she was quite a mess. And despite her attempts to hide it, her vulnerability was apparent.”

Harry felt a pang of regret and concern. “I wish I had known. Maybe I could have helped her through it.” Hermione placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “It’s never too late. Understanding what she’s been through is the first step. She needs to know that someone cares, without judgment. And right now, she needs to see that you’re not just someone she’s worried about but someone who genuinely wants to be there for her.”

Harry nodded, his resolve firming. “I’ll find a way to show her that. I don’t want her to feel like she’s alone in this.” As the conversation wrapped up, the mood shifted to one of mutual understanding and determination. Harry’s newfound clarity about your feelings and struggles gave him the motivation he needed to approach the situation with sensitivity and care.

Draco’s plan was set with his usual confidence, and though you felt a twinge of unease, you knew better than to question him openly. “Tonight at dawn, then,” you agreed, your voice soft but resolute. The instructions were clear, and Draco’s expression was one of satisfaction as he dismissed the others, leaving you with your thoughts and preparations.

As the evening approached, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of apprehension and resolve. Draco’s scheme was typical—using you as bait to catch Harry Potter in a moment of vulnerability. It wasn’t the first time you’d been used in one of Draco’s schemes, but the stakes felt higher this time. There was something more personal about this plan, especially considering how your feelings for Harry had been evolving.

The hours ticked by slowly, and as midnight approached, you found yourself pacing in your room. You had to remind yourself that your role was to lure Harry into a situation where Draco could confront him. It wasn’t about your own feelings or the growing empathy you felt for Harry. It was about following orders, maintaining your loyalty to your brother, and not causing any more trouble than necessary.

When the clock struck midnight, you slipped out of your room, carefully making your way to the library. The corridors were eerily quiet, the only sounds being the faint echoes of your footsteps and the distant creak of the castle. As you approached the library, you spotted Harry in the dimly lit space, hunched over a stack of books. He was absorbed in his reading, his focus evident. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the task ahead. The plan was simple: engage Harry in conversation, lead him into a situation where Draco could confront him, and hope that everything would go according to plan. As you made your presence known, Harry looked up, his expression a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

Harry’s initial surprise quickly turned to curiosity as he looked up from the book he was studying. The dim light of the library cast a soft glow on your face, highlighting the delicate features and the genuine concern in your eyes. As you bumped into him, the contact was fleeting, but it left an impression—one that made Harry's heart race.

He looked at you, taking in the way you seemed genuinely apologetic, a stark contrast to the usual icy demeanor of your family. “It’s alright,” he said softly, his voice betraying the same mix of surprise and unease that you displayed. He took a step back, his hand lingering a moment longer on yours before he released it. “I didn’t expect anyone else to be here this late.”

The library was a place of refuge for him, a sanctuary away from the prying eyes and expectations of the outside world. Seeing you here, and in such an unexpected way, felt like a strange twist of fate. The vulnerability in your voice was palpable, and it drew him in, compelling him to stay longer than he might have otherwise. “I didn’t mean to intrude,” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. “I was just... getting a few more books before heading back.”

Harry nodded, his gaze not leaving you. “No, it’s fine. I’ve been spending a lot of time here lately. It’s peaceful.” There was a pause, the silence between you filled with the distant hum of the library’s quiet atmosphere. Harry could see the way your eyes darted around, perhaps anxious or simply uncomfortable. The contrast between your nervousness and his own hesitation created a quiet tension, one that seemed to draw them closer.

“So,” Harry began, trying to break the ice, “What are you reading? Or... studying, I guess?” The question was simple, but it opened the door for conversation, allowing both of you to escape the awkwardness of the moment. He hoped that, perhaps, talking about something more neutral might help bridge the gap between you and him.

Harry’s breath hitched as you closed the gap between you, your hand brushing against his chest and your fingers lightly gripping his tie. The proximity was electrifying, and he could feel the warmth of your body against his, a stark contrast to the cool air of the library. His heart raced, a mix of excitement and apprehension coursing through him. Your voice, soft and almost seductive, drew him in further. “You know...” He swallowed hard, his eyes locked onto yours, trying to make sense of the sudden shift in your demeanor. “What... what do you mean?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. The library, once a haven of solitude, now seemed to pulse with a different kind of energy, one that was both thrilling and nerve-wracking.

The space between you was almost nonexistent, and Harry could feel the heat radiating from your body. His mind raced with questions and possibilities, unsure of what to expect but unable to pull away. The library’s shadows seemed to deepen, adding to the intensity of the moment. “What’s going on?” he managed to ask, his voice trembling slightly as he tried to keep his composure.

Harry’s eyes widened slightly at your confession, his mind racing to process your words. The pink flush on your cheeks was unmistakable, adding to the growing intensity between you. He could barely believe what he was hearing, especially considering the way you had approached him.

“I... I stare?” he managed to stammer, his voice cracking slightly with surprise. The vulnerability in your admission made his heart race even faster, and he struggled to find his voice amidst the whirlwind of emotions.

You could see the hesitation in his eyes, but also a glimmer of something deeper—a curiosity, perhaps, or a hint of hope. Your fingers, still lightly touching his tie, gently encouraged him to close the distance between you even further.

“Yes,” you said softly, your voice carrying a blend of shyness and determination. “I noticed. And honestly, I’ve been thinking about it. About you.” You took a deep breath, gathering the courage to continue. “It’s not just about the way you look at me. It’s more about how you make me feel when you do.” Harry’s gaze softened, the tension in his shoulders easing as he took in your words. The library, with its quiet and secluded atmosphere, seemed to wrap around you both, creating a cocoon of intimacy.

“Y/N, I...” He paused, his eyes searching yours for any sign of pretense. “I didn’t know you felt that way. I’ve always admired you from a distance, but... I didn’t think you’d feel the same.”

The uncertainty in his voice was palpable, but there was also a flicker of hope and longing. Your confession had clearly affected him, and he seemed to be grappling with his own feelings as he looked at you. The library’s shadows seemed to deepen, heightening the emotional weight of the moment. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, as if afraid to break the fragile connection between you. “Because... if you are, then maybe we should... talk about this more. Together.”

Until the sudden noise from the corridor startled both of you. The unmistakable sound of footsteps echoed through the library, breaking the intimate moment you were sharing. Harry’s hand froze beneath your chin, his eyes darting toward the source of the noise with a mix of concern and disappointment.

The library’s shadows seemed to dance around you as you both pulled away, the spell of the moment shattered by the intrusion. You exchanged a glance, your heart still racing, and Harry’s face reflected a blend of frustration and urgency. “We have to... we should—” Harry began, his voice hurried as he glanced back at the approaching footsteps. He reached for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before letting go. “We can’t be seen here.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of the interrupted moment but also the lingering excitement of what had almost happened. You quickly gathered yourself, smoothing out your clothes and trying to regain composure. The footsteps grew louder, and you both knew it was time to make a swift exit. With one last meaningful look, Harry gave a small, almost apologetic smile before you both slipped away into the labyrinthine stacks of the library, seeking refuge from the unwelcome interruption.

As you parted ways to avoid detection, the promise of what might have been hung heavily in the air, leaving both of you with a mix of longing and anticipation for what the future might hold.

Harry’s fist collided with Draco’s face in a sudden burst of anger and defiance. The impact sent Draco stumbling backward, his surprise quickly morphing into a mix of pain and fury. The library’s atmosphere shifted from one of tense anticipation to chaotic confrontation.

Draco’s eyes blazed with indignation as he wiped the blood from his split lip. “How dare you!” he spat, his voice laced with rage. “You have no right to touch her!”

Theodore and Mattheo, momentarily stunned, quickly regained their composure. Theodore’s smirk faded as he stepped in front of Draco, his own anger boiling over. “You think you can just waltz in here and act like you own the place?” he sneered.

Mattheo, still holding a mocking grin, was quick to chime in. “Looks like Potter’s got a bit of a temper. How amusing.” You moved to stand between Harry and your brother, your voice trembling but determined. “Please, just let him go. This isn’t helping anyone.”

Draco, rubbing his jaw, shot a venomous glare at Harry. “You think this is over? You’ve just made things worse for yourself.” His voice was low and menacing, filled with the promise of retribution. Harry, breathing heavily, glared back at Draco. “I’m not afraid of you or your threats. Let’s settle this somewhere else, away from here.” You could see the frustration and desperation in Harry’s eyes, a reflection of your own turmoil. “Harry, please. Let’s just go before things get worse.”

The tension in the library was palpable, each of you caught in a complex web of emotions and conflicting loyalties. Draco, Theodore, and Mattheo seemed ready to pounce, but the realization that the situation was spiraling out of control was clear to all. With a final glance at you, Harry reluctantly stepped back, his anger still simmering but controlled. “Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “Let’s go.”

As you and Harry made your way out of the library, your brother’s furious eyes followed you. The confrontation left a bitter taste, but it also solidified the resolve between you and Harry. The path forward was uncertain, but the bond between you had been tested and, despite the chaos, had grown stronger.

Outside the library, the cool night air felt like a welcome release, and Harry’s hand found yours again, offering a comforting squeeze. The events of the night had only intensified the feelings between you, leaving both of you with a mixture of relief and anticipation for what lay ahead. But not until Mattheo had the last words in your defense. 

Mattheo’s voice cut through the chaos, his frustration evident as he tried to intervene between Draco and Harry. “You’re such an asshole!” he shouted, his anger palpable. The library’s peaceful ambiance was now a battleground of shouts and clashing spells, and the situation seemed to escalate by the second.

Draco and Harry were locked in a heated struggle, their spells and curses lighting up the library like a chaotic light show. Theodore was trying to separate them, but his efforts were in vain as the two continued their relentless battle. The intensity of their fight was palpable, each movement fueled by a mix of personal vendettas and raw emotions.

Mattheo, seeing that his attempts to break up the fight were futile, resorted to threats. “I’ll tell Father about this!” he roared, his voice filled with menace. “You’ll regret this!”

Despite Mattheo’s threats, Harry and Draco were too caught up in their conflict to heed his warnings. The air crackled with magical energy, and the sounds of spellcasting and grunts of exertion echoed through the library’s aisles.

Amidst the commotion, you felt a mix of panic and determination. You stepped between the combatants, your voice rising above the din. “Enough! This has to stop!” you shouted, trying to grab their attention.

But your words were lost in the chaos. It was clear that neither Draco nor Harry was willing to back down easily. The library’s tranquility was shattered, and the once-serene study space was now a scene of conflict and anger.

Realizing that a more drastic approach was needed, you tried to summon your own magic, casting a powerful barrier between the two fighters. “Stop it now!” you commanded, your voice filled with authority. The barrier shimmered with a protective light, momentarily halting the duel and forcing both Harry and Draco to take a step back. The sudden ceasefire gave everyone a chance to catch their breath, but the tension was far from resolved.

Mattheo, still seething with anger, glared at you. “This isn’t over,” he warned, his voice dripping with venom. “I’ll make sure of it.” With a final, furious look at Draco and Harry, you turned to lead Harry away from the scene. “Come on,” you said urgently. “We need to get out of here before things get worse.”

Harry, still breathing heavily and with a look of determination in his eyes, followed you out of the library. As the two of you exited into the night, the cold air felt like a balm against the heated emotions of the confrontation. The events of the night had left a mark on both of you, but the bond between you had been tested and strengthened in the face of adversity. The path ahead was uncertain, but together you faced it with a renewed sense of resolve and connection.

The scene in the library had reached a fever pitch of chaos and confusion. Despite your desperate attempts to intervene, the fight between Draco and Harry had become almost uncontrollable. Each spell and curse seemed to add fuel to the fire, and even with your friends and Professor Snape now involved, the confrontation continued to spiral out of control.

Professor Snape's authoritative voice cut through the tumult, commanding the situation with a chilling firmness. “Hospital, now,” he ordered, his tone brooking no argument. His presence brought a semblance of order to the chaotic scene, and he quickly took charge, guiding Draco and Harry toward the hospital wing.

You reached out to Harry, your voice trembling with concern as you tried to hold onto him. “Harry, please, let me help—” His response was strained but resolute. “Don’t,” he said, his voice edged with pain and exhaustion. He pushed your hand away gently but firmly, signaling his desire to deal with the aftermath on his own terms.

Feeling helpless, you watched as Snape and the others escorted Draco and Harry out of the library. The corridor’s dim light cast long shadows, and the tension hung heavy in the air as they moved toward the hospital wing. You were left standing alone, the aftermath of the confrontation weighing heavily on you. Your friends gathered around, their faces reflecting a mix of concern and confusion. Hermione’s hand found yours, squeezing it reassuringly. “We need to make sure they’re okay,” she said softly, her eyes full of empathy.

You nodded, though your mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. The fight had revealed deep-seated tensions and unresolved feelings, and now, all you could do was hope that the wounds—both physical and emotional—could be healed.  As you made your way toward the hospital wing, you couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that settled in your chest. The night had taken a turn that none of you had anticipated, and the road to resolution seemed fraught with challenges.

The hospital wing's door loomed ahead, and you braced yourself for what lay beyond. The events of the evening had left scars that would take time to heal, but you knew that facing them was the only way forward. With a deep breath, you steeled yourself and stepped into the unknown, ready to support those you cared about and navigate the complexities of the relationships that had been strained by the night’s events.

The next morning, you hadn’t slept a wink. Mattheo found you alone in the common room, your sleepless night evident in the dark circles beneath your eyes. “Didn’t sleep?” he asked gently. You didn’t respond, your whole demeanor blank and distant. He sighed, understanding why you were silent and why you hadn't spoken to Theodore, Blaise, or Enzo.

“Look,” he continued, “I tried to tell your brother it was a bad idea. Even Pansy would agree with me. We were all against it—knew how you felt about Potter. And though everyone might think otherwise...” He paused, waiting for you to meet his gaze. When you finally did, your eyes glassy and weary, he added, “I’m genuinely glad to be the first to hear that you and Potter are together.” His smile was warm, sincere, and offered a small beacon of comfort.

“But... what about Draco?” you asked, your voice tinged with uncertainty. Mattheo raised an eyebrow, immediately understanding who you were referring to. “Draco? Forget him. We’ll figure something out. If we need to keep your relationship a secret, so be it. I just want you to be happy—me, Theodore, everyone else.” His words were sincere, and you hugged him tightly, your face pressed against his chest.

“Finally, the peepsqueak is awake,” Theodore’s voice cut through the moment, a smile on his lips. He looked relieved to see you up. “Where were you?” you asked, feeling a mix of exhaustion and curiosity. “In the hospital wing. Harry’s been given a day off. He wants to see you.” Despite Theodore’s attempts to sound upbeat, you could sense the undercurrent of concern in his tone. A sigh escaped you, unsure if you were ready to face Harry. But Mattheo’s reassuring squeeze and the silent nod of support convinced you to go.

Harry sat on the hospital bed, Hermione at his side while Draco slept nearby, his presence barely acknowledged. “I’m sure she wasn’t…” Hermione whispered, trying to keep her voice low as Draco shifted restlessly in his sleep. “From what you’ve told me, it seems more likely that he set her up. Regardless…”

Harry’s gaze shifted, and he noticed you standing there, looking even more fragile than the night before, a clear sign of the toll it had taken on you. Hermione, who had been speaking, fell silent as Harry’s eyes met yours. 

“If you want to see him, he’s here,” Harry said, his voice carrying a hint of threat. “It would be helpful if you picked him up.” Hermione’s reaction was swift; she slapped Harry gently on his wounded arm, her disapproval evident.  Although you appreciated the offer, you barely acknowledged it. Your focus remained on Harry. “Harry…”

His eyes closed tightly, a clear sign of his struggle to process your words. “Harry… please listen to me,” you pleaded, your voice trembling as you fought back tears. A choked sob slipped through your lips. “I didn’t know anything about it, not even the prank. My brother mentioned something about you, yes… But never in a thousand years would I have thought it would come to this, especially when I was about to confess my love for you…”

His eyelids softened as he listened, his anger wavering. “And the fight... After you were taken away by Snape, Mattheo—strange as it may seem—is on our side. He trusts you with his life, more than...” Your gaze shifted nervously from him to your brother. With a hint of disgust, you added, “More than him.”

Harry paused, a heavy silence settling between you. Hermione nudged him, silently urging him to speak. His brow arched in questioning, “You meant it?” His voice was filled with a mix of hope and disbelief. 

“Yes,” you replied, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

“Everything.” 

As you approached quietly, Harry flinched slightly at your sudden presence. Hermione took her cue and left, giving you a reassuring smile before exiting. You settled beside his bed, reaching out for his hand. Though he tried to pull away, the connection was too strong to resist. He loved you, despite everything.

"Harry James Potter," you said softly, using his full name as you leaned in, echoing the intimacy of the previous night. "I loved you from the very first moment. Will you accept this kiss?"

Harry's heart swelled with a mix of affection and relief. A gentle chuckle escaped him as he cupped your face, his smile tender and sincere. "You may, Y/N Malfoy." 

With that, he leaned in, meeting your lips with his, sealing the promise of his love.

[darthannie]

thursday night out

2.1k / neil lewis x f!reader

Pairing: Neil Lewis x f!reader Summary: Neil can't sleep and neither can you. A late night conversation leads to revelations. Warnings: 18+, minors dni. fluff, no use of y/n, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort if you squint really hard, Neil cries because of course a/n: I'm a lil rusty y'all but I had to take matters into my own hands.

You were absolutely restless in bed. You had come home from the bar your friend Jonathan worked at, Balanza, after needing some liquid comfort and a close friend. He was one of four. Your little group was all you needed, but more recently it was feeling like three. You, Neil, Lucien, and Jonathan were basically inseparable as you all emerged into adulthood together.

Now, you all found a little bit of community at Gumshoe Video, your and Neil’s video store. It wasn’t much but it was what you and Neil cared about the most. It was your baby, so to speak. Yet another thing that kept you and Neil stuck to each other’s sides. 

Neil was special. He had gone through it all with you. When you were in high school together you both skipped school dances and watched movies all night long while getting drunk on whatever was close by. You had comforted each other through numerous breakups, spent many long nights taking care of each other when the other was sick, and now ran a video store together. Growing up, your parents would make jokes about how you would end up together. Neil thought that was the funniest thing ever. “What a cliche.”, Neil would say. You would always laugh and agree but deep down, there was a piece of you that resented his indifference. It was only natural that you both felt something for each other, right? Neil was your rock and you were his. 

But nevertheless, Neil was seeing someone. At least you thought he was. It wasn’t totally clear what was going on, but you knew when he wasn’t at the video store he was running around with her. That left you, Lucien, and Jonathan to hold down the fort. This always happened when Neil got involved with a girl and it always left you feeling… odd. You never wanted to admit it but you had been in love with him for years. Brushing off that feeling was the only way you could disconnect. 

This constant yearning was exhausting but you just wanted to see Neil happy. Only now, you couldn’t tell if he was happy. He had been a bit secretive about the girl he was seeing. If you knew Neil, he was in over his head. Whenever you saw him at the shop he seemed drained and a bit stressed, but he never stayed long. He’d say, “I’m gonna go in about an hour. We’re getting dinner tonight, I think?” I think, was the key phrase. His remarks were rooted in confusion. Maybe his status with this mystery girl wasn’t so solid. You had hoped, for his sake, something good would come out of this. You couldn’t bear to see him hurt again.

After some overthinking, you were finally getting a bit drowsy. Right as you were about to drift off your ringtone shocked you awake. You answered it before you could check the name and heard a familiar voice on the other line. “Hey”, Neil said. “Can I come over? I can’t sleep” The clock on your nightstand read 1:34 AM. “Yeah sure what’s u-“ 

He hung top on you and within a couple of seconds, there was a knock at the door.

You scurried out of bed and headed towards the door. You weren’t prepared for what met you on the other side of the door. It was Neil, of course, but he looked sad. His eyes were puffy and red. He looked like he had been crying for hours. He looked exhausted. It took you a second before you realized you had been staring. You moved to the side and silently gestured for him to come in. 

He went right past you and towards the couch, face-planting into the cushions. He groaned and you stood over him for a moment before squatting down to his level. “Neil?” You heard a sniffle come from him and he turned to face you. Even now, he was just as gorgeous as every other time you saw him. Handsome in a classic sense. You fought every urge not to brush the hair away from his eyes but eventually, you gave in. You reached out and he closed his eyes after feeling your touch. “Neil, what’s going on?” 

“Jonathan and I got into a fight. Well, not like a fight fight. We just argued a bit and I got pissed and left.”

You removed your hand from his face. That was the last thing you expected to hear. There was never any conflict in your friend group that went beyond friendly film debates, but you were waiting for the shoe to drop. You had spent your time at Balanza tonight blabbing to Jonathan about how annoying It was that Neil was never around whenever he started seeing someone. He pushed you about it you admitted it was because you had liked him for years. Jonathan laughed “Well no duh! I could smell that shit from a mile away. You guys already treat each other like you’re married.” And he was right. There were things you and Neil did that felt like you were married. Apart from movie nights, you had spent time cooking dinner for each other, taken a couple of trips together, and confided in each other about everything. Your bond was unbreakable. 

You were thinking about what to say when Neil interrupted your fractured thought process. 

“I was at Balanza tonight, thought I’d go in for a quick drink, you know? And I got to talkin’ with Jonathan and he mentioned how you had been there a bit before me and how I’d just missed you. I thought was weird because you always told me if you were going so we could go together. Plus you’d told me you were going straight home after closing up the store. But anyway, he started joking about you and me. I mean, what the fuck right?”

You briefly paused before responding, “What did he say about us exactly?”  

Neil sat up before he began his story, gesturing as he began, “He made a quip asking where my ball and chain was and I said “What ball and chain?” and he said you. It kinda took me aback. And really annoyed me because you would never be a ball and chain, you know. And somehow he started going on about how I should maybe be a better friend.” Your heart sank. He continued, “He said I should be more “mindful” about our relationship and I thought what the fuck, you know. I know he doesn’t really have a way with words but, god, how cryptic. Who says that? Especially about us. We’re close, right? Super close! No one really gets it!” Subconsciously or not he now had your hand in his.

“Our friendship is special you know. It means the world to me and to have that questioned made me a bit upset. Then it really got me thinking. Have I not been paying attention to you lately? Then, I started thinking about all the things I’ve been doing recently. Spending time with you know who, which by the way isn’t happening anymore.”

In all honestly, you didn’t really know who. You’d only seen her a couple of times. You interrupted him, asking what he meant.

“I broke things off with her. She was, frankly, insane, and as fun as it was it was just that. Fun. Unsustainable. Unstable. Plus, I was barely meeting up with the group. Fewer movie nights. Less time at the store. Less time together. And I thought, fuck maybe I have been a shit friend. And now that I don’t have her in my life I feel like I can actually see clearly.”

He finally took a pause and looked you in the eyes. You were stunned. Neil was always a talker but it was rare he got this candid about his relationships. When you were younger, he’d tell you almost everything, but now he rarely ever spoke about his escapades and you were grateful for it. Just when you thought it was over, he continued. 

“So, I was so fed up with Jonathan I didn’t even finish my beer. I just left. I got home and tried everything to shake the guilty feeling off of me but nothing worked. I did a- a cold shower and even made some tea. I tried to watch City Lights, but I couldn’t.”

That was your and Neil’s favorite film. You had watched it the first time when you stayed home from junior prom. You both started off by doing voices for the characters and by the end you were both touched by the film. Ever since then, that was the film you both watched when you couldn’t think of anything better for movie night. It became a ritual that wordlessly brought you closer. 

“I got really restless and upset. So, I thought I would just call you.” He broke eye contact for a moment, and you could’ve sworn he looked at your lips before making eye contact again. 

Your voice was light, “But you got here before you called.”

He shrugged, “I just got in the car and started driving.”

You chuckled at his response. “Well you know you’re always welcome.” He smiled at you before he let it falter. He seemed to hesitate before he continued talking. The shoe was about to drop.

“ I, ah. There was something I left out of the story.”

You swallowed before asking, “What?” 

“Jonathan told me about… you and… Probably not everything but he told me.” It dropped.

There was a moment of silence as the tension between the two of you grew. Your world was crashing down. You’d have a word with Jonathan soon, call him a jackass for betraying your trust. You wanted to speak and deny everything, but nothing came out. 

He spoke first. “How long?”

Without hesitation, you replied “Years.” 

He sat back and ran his fingers through his hair. He muttered what you thought was fuck under his breath, but you preferred not to listen. All you could feel was the pain in your chest as you prepared to have your heart broken. Tears started to fall before you could stop them and a small whimper left you. He wiped your tears away and leaned forward again. You were now sitting on the ground as he sat over you on the couch. Neil felt a couple tears of his own begin to fall. You both sat for a moment. His silence made it hurt even more. You were ready for his rejection to slap you in the face. The sting would last long after, you thought. You heard him speak up softly, “So you… you feel it too?” 

You hesitated, “Feel what exactly?”

He laughed at himself and clarified, “You know this, um, tugging feeling in your heart when it feels like it’s trying to tell you something.” 

You avoided his gaze, “Yeah.”

You looked down at your hands. Your fingers were now interlaced with his. Space had closed between the two of you and it was getting hard to breathe. Your heart raced and you swore his did too. He brought his free hand to your face, resting it on your cheek. You looked down at it, foreign on your skin. You looked back at him and searched his face for any sign that this was some sick joke. All you found was sincerity. He was willing and ready to risk years of friendship on the off chance that you felt the same as he did. He unraveled his hand from yours and placed it softly on your neck as he pulled you in, careful not to make any sudden movements. 

The kiss was soft, at first. As it deepened you placed your hand on his chest, not to push him away, but to feel if his heart was beating as fast as yours. It soon became breathless, both of you refusing to break for air. Your fingers ended up in his hair. You felt his tongue on your bottom lip. He was testing you and you gave in. It was feverish. You both moved in sync until, finally, you both pulled away to get some air. The room was spinning. You were kneeling after he had pulled you up. He pulled you up further and sat you down on the couch. He pulled you close to him and just held you, hoping to feel as close as possible to you. You both felt like you’d just won the lottery. He traced your arm with his fingers. You looked up at him and he was already looking at you. You slowly broke out into a smile and he did too. Soon enough you were both giggling and chuckling. It was pure bliss. He leaned in to give you another kiss. There was no testing the waters this time. He pulled away and looked into your eyes.

“What took us so long?”, he sighed. 

You whispered back, ”I don’t know.”

[innermost-memoirs]

Something that has been said to me as a trans masc person is, "Well aren't you just a tomboy? Liking boyish stuff doesn't mean you have to be trans".

The foremost mistake people are making when they ask something like this is assuming that I don't know myself well enough to distinguish being a masculine woman from being an actual man. While it's true that liking boyish things doesn't make a woman a man, that isn't the point. Gender expression is different from gender identity (though sometimes it can be easy to confuse the two).

If you put a man in a dress, it does not make him a woman; it makes him a man wearing a dress. He knows he is a man, he feels it within himself regardless of any external factor. But if people keep insisting he is a woman, treat him as one, and he is not made aware that he has any other choice but to comply, then he will likely feel compelled to do so.

When I tell you that as a child I participated in boyish activities like playing in the mud and catching frogs, or felt left out when I wasn't included with the boys, I am giving you context that I have felt disconnected from being a girl ever since I began being aware that I was treated like one. I just didn't have the language to describe it until I was older, and even then I tried to suppress it.

Many trans masculine people have a hyper feminine phase in which we try extra hard to force ourselves to fit into the box that was originally prescribed to us, only to come out on the other side with confirmation of what we already had a deep suspicion of: we just aren't women, and there isn't anything we can do to change that.

I can relate to women and their experiences. I know what it's like to be treated as one by society, and I presented as one as I grew into adulthood. I have all the lived experience of being female, without the "soul" of one. When I am amongst a group of women, I notice that I am different. When I am called by "she" or "her", I feel the words grate on my nerves and I know that they do not belong to me.

However, when my friends call me "he", when my partner refers to me as his boyfriend, when a stranger accurately assumes that I am male, and I'm treated as such, I feel at home. It feels natural, the way one should feel when they are being referred to. I love being a man in a way that I never loved being a woman. I feel confident and secure with myself, like I finally fit into my own skin. I am belated when I see the way that my body hair has come in so handsomely, or how sharp my jawline has become. This is not even close to the same thing as being a "tomboy".

I can't speak for every trans person, but I'm not wrong in saying that the vast majority of trans people think very carefully and thoroughly about who they are and what they want. When we decide to transition, we are acknowledging that we will likely face additional hardships in exchange for being happier with ourselves and true to our identity as an individual.

The next time you feel compelled to question someone's identity, think about the fact that you do not know what it's like to live as them. You don't know the road they took to get to where they are today, how they really feel, or what they really want. You are imposing your own experiences and thoughts onto them. While some people, like me, write posts like this to help bring awareness and understanding, the truth is that you don't need to understand their identity in order to respect it. There are countless different human experiences that I will never live, but that does not make them any less real and valid than mine.

[damnable-bell]

Just some disconnected, inchoate and probably defensive thoughts on "HARD," the reaction to "HARD," and where it fits within SHINee's discography (written in bullet-point format, since I'm supposed to be working):

I'm not here to discipline anyone into liking the song; it's perfectly legitimate to feel disappointed by an artist embracing a sound you don't personally enjoy.

Having said that, I also tend to roll my eyes at knee-jerk dismissals of "fourth gen" music. Pop music changes, or else it stagnates. If I'm weighing a piece of music as a critic, and not just as an individual with strongly held generic and aesthetic preferences (which, again, require no defense), I can't begin and end by totaling up the number of chanted choruses and anti-drops—I mean, I can, it would just make me a very conservative and not particularly illuminating critic.

Other than excellent production, what stands out to me about "HARD" in opposition to any number of more po-faced recent boy group releases (cf. Kayla Beardslee on how too many boy groups right now "are obsessed with coming off as really cool") is how much fun the members are having in playing around with goofy fourth gen motifs. There's nothing ironic or parodic about it—they are, as a friend said, sincerely committed to the bit, but also clearly relishing in the ridiculousness of it all. I mean, consider the dick jokes.

Is "HARD" a good song? I think so. Is it a good SHINee song?Putting aside the question of whether "HARD" feels sonically distinct from other recent boy group releases (or how much), the underlying playfulness of it feels distinctly SHINee. In that sense, it reminds me of "LUCIFER," which also embraced a more hard-edged sound/aesthetic already popular in K-Pop at the time, but which still feels/felt distinctly SHINee in its flamboyance (see Occupied Territories' brilliant write-up).

[love-as-simple-as-shaving-soap]

Post 5x16 Fic

Los Angeles, February 15th, 2022

Lucy knows it’s only a matter of time before it will come up again. It being the fact that Noah only clocked that Tim was that Bradford after she mentioned him sleeping in her bed. She wasn't sure why she didn’t want Tim to know. Sure, the morning after the incident, she found it equal parts heartbreaking and embarrassing when she thought about it for too long, but there wasn’t any reason to hide anything now. They were together now— an actual full-blown couple. He was blissfully asleep, his face an inch from hers with his arm draped over her middle. The story of him being that Bradford only added to their history.

Sacramento, c. 2021

She and some of her UC classmates had found a dive bar in downtown Sacramento to blow off some steam for the evening. It started off lively with an animated trading of war stories and the jukebox playing one classic rock hit after the other, but within a couple of hours, she felt herself recede into her head. She looked around the table at the laughter, at the chatter and she felt so disconnected. None of it was familiar. And that had made her feel lonelier than she had in awhile.

Lucy couldn't help but let her mind wander to Tim— to missing Tim, to being angry with Tim for telling her to come here, and then to the look she must have dreamt that flashed across his face just before he left her heartbroken in the corridor of her apartment building. She knows it isn’t the “right thing”… the “right thing” would be for her mind to wander to Chris, the guy that is still technically her boyfriend, right? She feels the spiraling begin and makes the genius decision to try and drown it out with another drink. But soon, one more drink turns to two and two turns to five and she finds herself spilling her guts to Noah.

She really didn't mean to spill her guts like this, but the rest of the group moved onto another bar to “keep the party going,” while she and Noah hung back to wallow apparently. He was going on about missing his girlfriend, April, when Lucy chimes in with, “At least she misses you back.”

“You don’t think your boyfriend misses you back?” Noah asks as he takes a swig of his beer.

“He isn’t my boyfriend. He’s— he’s…” she trails off. She could blame her lack of answer on being drunk, but she knows that even stone-cold sober, she wouldn’t know how to define Tim and what he is to her. To call him a superior or even a friend would be factually correct, but severely lacking of all the layers of the something more they have built over the years. After all, what do you call the person who you have the most important relationship of your life with? Especially when that person is not the person you’re dating?

“It’s complicated. Got it. But, it kinda sounds like maybe you should talk to him. You know, lay all your cards out on the table and all that,” Noah offers.

“He just— he doesn’t want me in the same way. I thought he might… for minute there, I thought there was something… but then he told me to move on,” she says as her voice gets slightly choked up and before she knows it, tears begin brimming her eyes. She glances to her surroundings and the crowded bar and she begins to feel crushed by the over-stimulation of it all. “I need to leave. I need to get out of here.”

“Yeah, of course, lemme close out the tab and we can grab you a cab.” Noah quickly springs up from his chair and sets off through the crowd.

Lucy pulls out her phone and begins to scroll through the few photos she has of Tim. One with him and Kojo. One with him from Angela’s courthouse wedding. And two of him from the day he got his award. One was with just him and one was with both him and Jackson displaying their awards proudly. That’s the one that breaks her. She’s desperate to talk to him. Someone who knows her, someone she felt safe with. But just as she is scrolling through her contacts to call him, her phone’s screen goes black. Dead.

Before she can even talk herself out of it, Lucy’s up from her seat with her purse in hand and heading to the dimly lit corridor that leads to the restrooms. She had noticed on one her earlier trips to relieve herself that there was a payphone mounted to the wall. And all she can think now is that she misses Tim and that she needs to see him or talk to him. She just needs him someway, somehow.

She rummages around in her bag for her wallet to pull out some loose change in the zippered coin compartment. Her vision is blurred by tears and she can barely stop from shaking as she begins to shove whatever coins she can into the slot. With a few steadying breaths, she begins to dial the number and after a few rings, she’s only greeted with his voicemail. But, it doesn't stop the words that the tequila has been forcing her mind and heart to replay from falling out of her mouth in a rush.

“Tim, it’s your me. I mean, it’s your Lucy— I mean it’s just Lucy … I don’t know what I am to you exactly, so sorry for… that… but to be fair, I don't know what you are to me. You’re not TO Officer Bradford. You’re not Sergeant Bradford. You’re not even my bestest bud Bradford. You’re— look, I know you probably don't feel the same way, but fuck it, I’ll just say it… you’re important to me. You’ll always be more than you are. I just miss you. I’m here in UC school like you told me I should be… but I haven't moved on, okay?” she pauses to inhale sharply as she swallows back the acid that begins to rise in her throat. “That night in the hotel room when we were on the op, I shouldn’t have said it was just biology, it wasn’t. That kiss, it felt right. I should have—”

“If you are satisfied with your message, please press one. To rerecord, please press two.”

The automated voice jolts Lucy out of her self-imposed pity party and she punches down on the 2 key and slams the receiver down. She feels her legs about to give out from the adrenaline and nearly considers sliding down to sit with her back against the wall. Just as she begins frantically wiping away at the tears streaking her face, a loud trill comes from the payphone in front of her. And as if there’s some mysterious string that always pulls her and Tim toward one another, she picks up the receiver and places it to her ear and waits for the voice she somehow is expecting to hear.

“Hello?”

It’s him. It’s his voice. She remains quiet, just wanting to recommit the sound to her memory.

“Hello? I can hear music… is anyone there?���

She wants to say something. Anything. She wants to let the words that spilled out earlier in a moment of recklessness to be said clearly in a moment of bravery, but she can’t bring herself to. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

So instead of responding, she hangs up one more time. She turns around resolving to finally head home when she sees Noah standing at the end of the corridor.

“How much of that did you hear?” she asks him as she clutches the strap of her purse to channel her nervous energy.

“Honestly? I caught everything after you told him you don't know what he is to you. Bradford, I mean.”

Lucy groans in even further embarrassment at the revelation that he also clocked Tim’s name.

“Don’t worry Hot Pants, I won’t tell a soul. Now, let’s get you in a cab.”

She gives him a small smile in appreciation and follows him out through the bar.

Los Angeles, February 15th, 2022

When Lucy wakes up the next morning, she finds that the left side of her bed is empty. Light clanking comes from her kitchen, so she quickly gets up to investigate. She finds Tim already showered and dressed standing at the counter, mixing bowl in hand and whisking some kind of batter.

“You’re up already! I was expecting to finish up making breakfast before I went to wake you.”

“You could have woken me up so we could cook together.” She rounds the counter to offer him a quick good morning kiss.

“Thought I’d let you sleep in a bit. I mean it’s only fair, I did wear you out last night,” he says with what Lucy can only describe as his signature flirty eye-twinkle.

“Um, for the record, I also wore you out. You’re just being an amazing boyfriend and powering through delicious exhaustion to make me breakfast. It is the cherry on top of a night of make up sex, after all,” she says with a giggle.

“Well since we’ve officially made up and we have some extra time before work, how about you tell me why I’m that Bradford.” She looks back up at Tim to find him smiling teasingly at her.

She grabs the mixing bowl from his hands and places it on the counter before pulling him down into a slow deep kiss.

“I’ll tell you soon. But right now… I think there are other things we could do with our extra time, right?” she says as she pulls away just enough so that she can still feel the heat radiate off of him.

“Agreed,” he breathes out.

As she backs them up towards the bedroom with Tim’s lips firmly attached to hers, all she can think is that while he is indeed that Bradford, he is more importantly her Tim.

[thewildheartsclub]

Is your relationship with Tumblr on and off?? It's been 4 years where I've felt so disconnected with my creative side, and Tumblr was a big part of that too and now I find it so hard to get the energy to find my spark. I blame it on getting away from home for so long. That's where all my art friends are at and I feel this decision to "grow up" away from all the "distractions" and to start earning good money, has actually done more bad for me than good. I love adventures but I don't like to travel far, and I don't have anyone here who just loves to walk for the sakes of taking pictures and talking art projects. It has pushed me away from the things that actually made me happy... I hate working for the sakes of earning my independence, when it has pulled me away from everything and everyone who I love. My new environment is a very small town that has young people who are all married and older people in my age group (30's) which both don't have no time for an artistic lifestyle and are too sucked into their matrix ways. And everyone who I've met that seems fun ends up being the opposite and find my ideas and antics to be too childish and unrealistic.... I really just want to get away from everything and just paint how I did back home with friends. I want to cry hahaha

Hello friend, it’s been awhile! The first thing I’m taking from this is that you’re looking outwards for the solution when I feel it’s to look inwards. Pay attention to those desires you have, for me I see it as our souls way of communicating gently over time “hey I would really like to do more of this” and if you don’t listen to it, this is how we end up feeling. While it would be so nice to go on adventures and to express ourselves creatively with others in hand, ask yourself this: If I were to start doing the things I wish to do by myself, right in this moment, is it possible that it would lead me to the circle of people/experiences I am desiring to be surrounded by?

It sounds like you are experiencing a disconnect from those you once knew and those around you right now. I know how this feels, I’m going through it myself. Don’t look at anything up until this point as a mistake or the incorrect direction you chose. Everything you have ever done is exactly what you were supposed to do and it has given you the lessons you’ve needed. It’s tough when we look around and see a matrix of NPCS and feel we do not know where our place is. I resonate with that deeply. So find it within first and the rest will come to you. You may not notice it to begin with, but if you pay attention you’ll start to see that what you desire is gravitating to you also, simply chase the things you truly want first. I know…easier said than done, when we are trained to do what’s been told of us in order to survive. But there’s a balance you need to find between the two. If you want to be creative right now, start small and don’t push yourself to excel. If you can’t travel far, find places close by that you can explore, never estimate a simple trip to a forest at a strange hour of night, with just the right music and perhaps some art supplies. Maybe even a polaroid camera? You may be burned out right now, so baby steps. As for your other question, yes I come and go from tumblr, usually when I need to be silent and private and then I return when I need to express myself, connect with others and absorb inspiration. This place really helps me visualise where I’m at and what vibration I’m on. 🌀🌌🦋 If it helps, in spirit we are exploring together! Don’t let anyone make you feel that your antics are too childish, those people grew up too quickly, stay in Neverland!

C, xoxo

[modernmisadventures]

Chapter 11: Group Chat 3

Jess only just managed to wait until she cleaned the last tankard and flicked the open light to ‘off’ before pulling out her tomestone. 

No messages. Of course. The cowards. 

Hurrying to her ‘bedroom’ in the cellar, she plopped down onto her mattress and opened her group chat with her friends. 

Jess: KALI! How DARE you just leave like that! What did he say? What did you say?! When’s your second date?! You are going on a second date, right?!?!?!

Jess: Also Cip your boy toy showed up looking for you. Didn’t stay long once he realized you weren’t gonna show. I’d say be careful but you seem to enjoy… danger. Or whatever he is.

Ciprys:

Jess: OH MY GODS CIP WHY

Jess: I know you said you like photography but NOT NOW

Kal’istae: MY EYES!

Kal’istae: I feel compelled to spam that off the screen. Yes, second date, Saturday. Movies. I’m buying the popcorn. Maybe dinner after. Nothing like that, though!

Kal’istae: … maybe.

Kal’istae: I don’t know.

Kal’istae: I really want to sleep with him.

Kal’istae: I just don’t want to find out that’s all he really wants.

Kal’istae: But he says he wants to date…

Kal’istae: Jess, your brother is confusing!

Jess: He’s confusing? You’re confusing! If you want to sleep with him just sleep with him, you know he’s game.

Jess: Just for the love of Menphina do not send me photos. If I see Thancred in any moment of compromise I will die. 

Kal’istae: I promise, I’ll keep any photos of him for myself. I won’t share them with you.

Kal’istae: I’m going to bed. I have… a lot to think about. And work tomorrow. Good night. Have fun dreaming of your Elezen!

Kal’istae has disconnected.

Ciprys: wat elezen?

Ciprys: wait. nvrmind. busy. nite.

Ciprys has disconnected.

Jess: He’s not my… 

Yet by the time she’d even typed the words on her screen, both her friends had gone off to their own devices - or whatever they wanted to call it.

She really didn’t want to think too hard on that. 

And he was not her Elezen. Gods, she barely even knew his name - she was just going to his place to learn a new skill. That was it. Yet she felt a sense of dread deep within the pit of her stomach. 

They weren’t going to let her live it down, were they? 

[katsudondom]

I need to vent, sorry

long post incoming :)

↓

Yeah, I feel that I was born in the wrong generation

And no, I don't think I'm special or anything for saying that.

Like, do people think I want to feel like an outcast whenever I'm around a group of people that are the same age as me? Because I'd trade my interests and niches any day if it meant I could finally feel what it's like to have a group of friends by my side, or a partner holding my hand.

And yes, I do have many criticisms about certain aspects of modern technology and social media, but I don't downright hate it or dismiss the good that came from modern technology/the Internet entirely. If anything, I'd love to be born when the Internet was just starting to walk, when it wasn't as popular yet and when you were considered a nerd for even owning a computer. That'd be an amazing time to be alive, until "normies" (cant find a better word sorry I know it's cringe) started making the Internet more mainstream and later on it being the #1 reason why Americans are more stupid and self-centered then ever (in my personal opinion).

I'm more so disconnected with my generation because of the culture, not modern technology.. A generation where we believe in anything without doing any research or seeing different perspectives first, a generation that's easily brainwashed into believing anything, a generation that's so sure that their opinion is right that they'll even ruin someone else's life or ridicule them into oblivion just because the other person thinks differently. That's the reason why I feel like I don't belong with my generation, not because "ew social media".

Actually, that's not the whole reason why-

I also really just love the grunge/rock culture of the 90's, and the scene/emo culture of the early 2000's. It all felt like a community back then, like wherever you were at there'd be people accepting you with open arms, no matter who you were or what you looked like, ready to have you join their clique people that just liked the same shit as you do.

Nowadays, there doesn't even feel like a community anymore, even within your own culture. Everyone's divided, everyone's prejudice, and everyone can't put their differences aside and at least co-exist with each other. This "you're with me or against me" mentality is getting old real fast. Instead, let's have thoughtful and provoking conversations with each other, instead of being quick to go on social media and wishing ill to the white kid in your History class just because he wore a red hat that you happened to disagree with.

Idk, it's all just really silly.

I was just scrolling down watching YouTube when I saw a video calling people like me who think they're in the wrong generation "annoying" and I had to vent since it actually triggered me a bit, ngl, because just by looking at the thumbnail where they put a bunch of modern technologies and had "modern" in bold letters with the word being crossed out, I knew what points they were going to make, and I just needed to vent about how not everyone who feels like an outcast is trying so hard to be different.... It's 99% the complete opposite and I just always hated that stereotype from people who obviously have it way better in life, from people who clearly don't understand what it's like to be almost invisible even when you try so hard to be liked/seen to the point where you fantasize about a time you weren't even born in because "what if?".

Shit, I'm done, needed to get that off my chest and the only way I'd feel good about it is by posting it online. Scared to put tags on this because half of the criticisms about Gen Z that I wrote about relate to about 99% of Tumblr users, so I might piss someone off but fuck it, I want my voice to be heard and no one will probably care to read this anyway.

And yes, I know there's other teens/young adults out there like me, who has the same mindset as I do. I don't think that I'm the only special snowflake that feels this way, but it's so fucking hard finding someone who sees the world the same way as I do, that it does make me feel a bit like I am the only one.

Anyway,

Goodnight 🖤

[genderqueerdykes]

Hi, I was wondering if you knew anything about otherkin, because it’s something I don’t really know how to begin researching and my very basic understanding is “being unhuman in a human body”

I’ve always felt kind of a disconnect(?) from humanity, and there’s even been some jokes within my friend group that I’m secretly a vampire, and I thought maybe by learning more about otherkin i could maybe learn how to be more in touch with that part of me.

i do, yea! i am otherkin & have been in the community since 2011! ^ _^ it's actually been a huge part of my life for a very long time lol and is super important to me, lol. my system identify as otherkin, therian, alterhuman, nonhuman, and a variety of similar labels depending on who u talk to, most of us are nonhuman. finding a human in here is v rare

i don't have any great resources on hand right now because a l o t of good old otherkin forums have been taken down over the years due to inactivity and i can't recommend any kin communities off hand due to the fact that more often than not they kinda fall apart very quickly

there is also the real vampire community, but again i haven't seen a good hub for it in years. i used to be a part of that community as well due to being a clinical vampire + lycanthrope thanks to my schizophrenia. you can potentially look for those communities but like i said it's pretty sparse.

if you have any questions, feel free to ask, just keep in mind that the general rule of thumb for any otherkin, therian, alterhuman, etc. identity is literally identifying As that thing as opposed to feeling similar to it or relating to it. if you literally feel nonhuman in some way, then otherkin and the related communities are for you. if you feel as though you are relating to nonhuman experiences due to feeling alienated from your peers, it may just be a creative way to cope.

i would say if you have specific questions feel free to ask them and i'll do my best to help and see if i can get you specific resources!

hope that helps, take care!

[soupsspoons]

18. Green Balloons

Daryl, Sasha, and Abraham were all still Outside, trying to lead the herd from Alexandria. Glenn was still missing. Enid was still gone. And yet, as Hannah watched the bundle of green balloons float into the sky, she finally felt that things might be okay. At least, something would go right.

Carl had slept over that night, which Hannah was still surprised by. When she woke, she expected to see that the boy had left early in the morning, or even immediately after she had fallen asleep. Hannah wouldn't have blamed him, she thought, it would be hard to explain to Rick why he was there. But despite her doubt, Hannah woke to Carl quietly breathing at the foot of her bed, his head slumped against his shoulder and his arms crossed over his chest.

Hannah reached out hesitantly, letting her hand fall on just his shoulder, and gently tapped him. He stirred slightly before opening his eyes.

"Good morning," Carl said, sleep still in his voice.

"Good morning," Hannah smiled back.

The morning had been so nice. It was bright and the sky was clear. Hannah wanted to stay in this moment, all of Alexandria watching the sky, hope just within reach. But like Glenn's balloons, that hope floated away when the watch tower fell.

Hannah ran with Carl as it crashed into the fence, causing a great cloud of dust to fly into the air. The force of the fall seemed to reverberate across the ground, forcing everyone to stumble at the impact. Through the static sound, Hannah heard a deep growling coming from the now-fallen panel. She knew the walkers had gotten in.

"Everyone, get back! Get into your houses! Go!" Rick yelled before firing his gun at the horde.

Carl gripped her hand, pulling Hannah with him as he ran.

"Carl!" Michonne yelled to the two, coming up to meet them. Gabriel hurried behind her, a blood-stained machete in his hand. Carl only let go of Hannah to wave Michonne towards them, grasping her hand again when they all met.

"My dad!" Carl yelled to Michonne as both a question and a statement. The woman used her katana to point toward where Hannah could now see both Rick and Deanna, who was limping in the former's arms, shooting at walkers. They all crossed over town to get to the other group, keeping an eye on the incoming heard.

"Hannah! Hannah?" Hannah heard coming from nearby. She looked to see that Ron was alone, stumbling in front of a group of walkers.

"Ron, come on!" She yelled back to the boy, "Hurry up!" The girl felt Carl's grip loosen slightly as if to give her permission to help her friend, but, unconsciously, she squeezed tighter. Ron finally met up with the group as Carl reunited with his dad. They raced towards Carl and Rick's house, and Hannah could feel the stitches in her side straining with her movements. The burn sent a hiss to her lips, and she begged herself to move faster. The sounds of the walkers began to drown out Hannah's pain, and she could see their safety in the distance. Suddenly, Hannah felt herself trip over something, sending her out of Carl's grip and onto the road below them. She looked to see that just behind her, the fallen corpse of a walker was splayed on the ground, its disconnected arm laying in her path. Hannah pushed herself to her feet, but the pain in her side came back stronger. She moved slowly, too slowly. From the side of her, Hannah could see another creature closing in. Its arms were stretched out, reaching for her. The rest of the walkers began to circle the group, closing in around them. The walker grabbed at Hannah, its broken limbs swinging as it did. She kicked at the walker's weak legs, knowing she had no real weapon to protect herself. The walker stumbled with the impact, leaning closer into Hannah's arms. With a quick and heavy movement, Hannah threw her elbow into its neck and kicked it off of her body, allowing her to get back into the group.

Before the circle of walkers could get too close, the sound of a gunshot rang out and Hannah turned to see Jessie creating a path for them.

"Come on! I have Judith!" she yelled, before turning to run inside with them.

They finally made it into Ron's house. Hannah helped move Deanna as the rest of the group ran to lock the doors. Deanna yelled out in pain as Rick stretched her body over the couch, and Hannah quickly went into the kitchen, desperate to find anything that looked like the tools that had been used in the infirmary. As she hurried down the hallway, Hannah passed a wide-eyed Sam, frozen as he watched what was happening.

"Sam? Hey," Hannah said hastily as she bent down to the boy, shaking him out of his shock. "Sam, you're okay. Look at me," Sam immediately turned to her, his eyes still glazed and big, "Just stay in here, okay? Just wait for your mom to come back, yeah?" Hannah waited for a response, anything, but he only turned and headed to his bed, sitting on the edge.

Hannah wanted to comfort the boy, but she heard Michonne call from the other room, "Hannah! Where're those scissors?"

She gave Sam one last look before grabbing the scissors she had found in the kitchen and running back to Deanna.

When she arrived in the room, Michonne stepped away from Deanna's side and explained that they had found a bite mark. She looked to Deanna, questioning whether it was true, and she nodded back. Deanna seemed so calm at the moment, but Hannah saw the pain in her first leader's face. Slowly, almost cautiously, Hannah approached the side of the couch, kneeling down to Deanna's height.

"I'm so sorry," Hannah whispered. Deanna only watched her for a moment before reaching up slowly to wipe the small tear that began to form in the girl's eyes. Hannah sniffled at the contact, leaning into her hand as Rick and Michonne stepped out of the room.

"Don't be sad," Deanna spoke softly, "I spoke to Michonne, she'll take care of you. They all will."

"You don't deserve this," was all Hannah could say, pulling the hand that was on her face and holding it in her own.

"I could have been better," Deanna smiled sadly, "You will be so much better than me, Hannah." This made the girl's tears fall harder. She didn't want to have to be better, she just wanted everything to be normal again. She wanted her home back. "You're gonna be so strong, I know. You're gonna be so brave." Deanna paused, "But, remember where this started, okay? Remember Before."

Hannah sat with Deanna for a while, talking quietly with her, keeping her company as they waited for Michonne to return. Before she could, though, a mixture of screams and crashes sounded from the floor below them. Hannah stood quickly, turning to the window above the couch. She could see the walkers outside turn towards the house, drawn in by the sound. She went for the door, before turning to Deanna, not wanting to leave her on her own.

"Go," The woman spoke, "I'm strong too."

When Hannah got downstairs, she found Rick and Jessie banging on the door to the garage, yelling for their kids. Rick turned to grab his axe, hitting the lock on the door. When it finally opened, Carl and Ron rushed out of the room, immediately going to block the door. Hannah ran over as well, pushing her uninjured side into the wood as the walkers pushed back. Next to her, Carl grunted and she searched his face. He was more exasperated than he should have been, and yet he made no move to show her more than that.

"Watch out!' Rick called, carrying a sofa and holding it against the door. "We need more, and we need to be quiet,"

Hannah moved away from the couch, but before she could leave them, she looked to Carl once more. She knew something was wrong, that something had happened in there. But he only nodded at her slightly, telling her exactly what she needed to know. So, Hannah left the group, running to the living room to find more blockades for the door. When there was nothing big enough in the living room, Hannah decided to go upstairs, remembering that Ron had a heavy table by his bed. She passed through the hallway, looking quickly into each room for something helpful. When she found Ron's room, Hannah heard talking coming from inside. Though he spoke quietly, she knew it was Carl, and she immediately opened the door.

The two boys were staring at each other, an unwavering sense of tension palpable in the room. In Carl's hand, he held out a gun and pointed at the boy across from him.

"Carl!" Hannah let out, stepping further so the two boys could see her.

"Hannah," Ron breathed out when he noticed her.

"Carl, what's going on? What are you guys doing?" Hannah spoke to only Carl, who now had his gun hidden in his pocket.

"It's fine, " He said, not looking away from Ron.

"Carl," Hannah said louder this time. Carl let his eyes close before he turned to her, and Hannah could see now how fast he was breathing. She softened her expression, only mouthing an incoherent 'what?' to the boy.

Ron scoffed lightly, almost so much so that Hannah didn't hear it. She turned to him now and there were tears in his eyes. They too stared at each other, and Hannah shook her head without hesitation. She watched as Ron brushed past her and Carl, leaving them alone in the room. It was silent, save only for the sound of the door closing.

"Hannah, he--" Carl started.

"Carl, what the hell happened?" She was angry now.

"He tried to kill me, Hannah!"

Hannah went to sit on the unmade bed that was near them, "Oh my god," she muttered before letting her head fall into her hands. She heard Carl approach her, his footsteps hesitant as he did.

"I'm sorry, okay. I know he's your friend." Hannah shot her head up at that.

"No that's not," She sighed before continuing, "I just--are you okay? What happened, Carl?"

Carl moved in front of her now, looking down at her as she stared. He opened his mouth slightly, then furrowed his brow and closed it again.

"I'm fine. It's fine. Really."

Hannah shut her eyes as he had earlier, breathing out softly. Carl wouldn't tell her.

"Your side is bleeding again," Hannah looked up and Carl pointed at the side where she had fully pulled her stitches after fighting with the walker. She touched the stained fabric that covered it, finding that it was soaked through with her blood.

"I'm fine. It's fine."

---

They were all huddled upstairs as Rick explained to everyone what the plan was. The group was going to go through the mob to get to the armory, blending into it using the guts of two other walkers. They cut up some sheets Jessie kept in a closet, as if they were ponchos, and began to spread the foul material over themselves, hiding their scent beneath it.

Hannah scrunched her face as she reached into a pile of blood and guts, rubbing it onto the cloth. It felt too warm, too soft. The repulsive smell traveled up to her nose, forcing her to gag into her blood-covered shoulder. She shuddered at the feeling when it transferred onto her skin, but continued to cover herself.

"Do you want me to get your back?" Carl spoke hesitantly.

Hannah chuckled at the absurdity of the situation.

"Yeah, thanks," she said, turning her back to Carl. He gently moved his hands across her back, moving her hair to the side as he did.

When Carl finished, Hannah turned back to him. She stared into his face, watching a trickle of smeared blood drip down his cheek.

"What?" Carl smiled at Hannah, noticing her look.

She smiled back, "You have something on your face." She reached a clean hand up, catching the drip in her fingers and rubbing it off onto her own poncho.

"Mom?" Sam spoke from the doorway. Hannah didn't blame the way his eyes frantically searched over their bodies.

Jessie hurried over to Sam, "You need to listen to me, okay? We aren't safe here anymore. Okay, we have to do this so we can be safe out there. We need to look like the monsters."

"No, mom please, no," Sam whined.

"Yes, honey, we have to go, okay?" Jessie's voice was tight as she spoke, "We have to, Sam. Just pretend you're not afraid. Just-- pretend you're somebody who isn't afraid, okay? Pretend none of this is real."

Through his tears, Sam nodded.

Hannah saw that Ron's head was down, his chest moving quickly. She smiled over at Sam, motioning for him to come over, and she began to cover him in the guts as well.

Now they were just like the monsters.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ

Hi Loveliess! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Ik it might be a little boring but I didn't want to put the whole two episodes into one chapter. I had so much fun rewatching the episode while writing this. Season 6 is definitely one of my favorites!

How do we think Hannah's going to react to what comes next...?

Thanks for Reading!!

[thestylesfamilysblog]

Take A Breather

Elodie Styles x Harry Styles

synopsis: the end of the semester hasn’t been easy on Elodie, and a few things are starting to weigh on her heavier than usual…

warnings: slight angst, insecurities, mentions of harassment, sad Elle

a/n: I wanted to write some backstory to the other day when Elle went missing, idk why I just felt like doing a little something and I haven’t written anything in a whole for her older self so why not!

The second year at Harvard had gone by fairly fast, truth be told Elodie had blocked out most of the year. It had never been this hard before but she was struggling to find her place within the university, of course she had a small group of friends and Teddy but when you weren't in the same program, sometimes finding time to get together was hard.

Elle really only had herself to blame in a sense, she'd gone from wanting to go out and get dinner on friday nights with friends, to just going home and keeping to herself in her room. It wasn't as if she was totally miserable, no she had a beautiful life, amazing family and an even more amazing boyfriend.

It had happened a few weeks ago in a lecture, Teddy was friends with everyone, his laughter and humour contagious, it didn't surprise her to hear people boast about him, especially the girls that sat near her in Romance Literature on Wednesday mornings. Normally she was a pretty confident girl but the more she listened to their conversation the more she almost felt undeserving of her spot in Teddy's heart.

To top off the current storm brewing in her head, she was also dealing with a teachers assistant that took any chance he could to make inappropriate comments, and ruin her work before her professor had a chance to view it, causing her to quickly need to redo it and submit it herself every time.

She just wasn't feeling her best, and after the fight with Elijah she just wanted to be alone. In hindsight maybe letting someone know where she was would have been a good idea, but all she wanted was a space to just be alone and let a bit of the weight off her chest.

-

Elodie had found this little cafe in first year, just a mere few blocks from Harvard's campus, no one ever came here, she and the owner becoming good friends, an elderly lady, Joanne, always happy to see her.

It must have been around 3 hours of her just sitting, trying to journal like her dad taught her, a few tears here and there, but the warm blueberry matcha was helping her keep it as together as she could.

Meanwhile Harry and Ro had been frantically searching for her with the help of their friends, it wasn't much longer that Harry had pulled up outside the cafe just as shed been walking out, the only person she could think to tip her father off would have been Teddy.

"Jesus Elle you scared the shit out of me.."

His voice wasn't filled with anger or animosity, more worry and a care only a father feels towards their child

"I'm sorry dad..I just-I'm sorry" she answered back softly, tears still being held back which only brought a frown to Harry's face

"Come here.."

Pulling her into a hug she began to cry, her hands gripping onto his coat as if he'd get ripped away from her

"Oh Elle...what's going on?"

"I need a break.."

Harry furrowed his brows before guiding her to get in the front seat of his range rover, the heat helping to warm her now cold hands up. He was quick to join her, remaining parked but turning his attention back to her

"What do you mean a break?"

"I-I'm not happy in school...Im struggling in one class where the TA is horrible to me, I feel so disconnected and alone from everyone, I just I'm not happy dad...and I feel like im not good enough for bear.."

At the sound of her voice breaking he sighed, grabbing her hands and holding them gently

"Well first things first, if you need a break then take one my darling, defer a semester, a year, whatever you need, mum and I will support you, I'll even look into getting the TA fired"

"Dad, the school didn't do anything.."

"So? I'll make them do something, no one messes with my baby girl and gets away with it right?"

He waited until Elodie nodded before speaking up again

"Now, why are you feeling so down about bear, has he said something?"

She shook her head

"No, he's perfect in every way, it's me...I just I feel like I'm not good enough for him, the girls I see talk about him are so beautiful and I guess I don't know I just feel so insecure and its nothing to do with him...its all me..."

Harry went to speak until Elodie sniffled and continued

"He's so perfect to me, and he loves me so much...I can be myself around him and he's everything and im just me...I feel like I just don't deserve his love...and I have never felt like this about anyone before, im just scared I'll lose him"

Harry could understand where she was coming from, it was hard to be a girl growing up, he'd had his fair share of insecurities himself and he only wished he could take all of these negative feelings away from her

"Well for one, you are enough, you always have been and you deserve every ounce of love Teddy gives you, i've seen that boy with you, he looks at you like you hung the moon and stars. I know sometimes with other girls it can be hard and you compare yourself to them but I promise you, Elle you are beautiful inside and out, and I hate to hear you think any less of yourself."

Harry knew it might not have fixed everything but it was enough to have her nodding, a small smile creeping up on her face. Harry knew Elodie would get another good talk with her mother that same night but for now he did the one thing he could think of to cheer her up.

Milkshakes and a drive filled with her favourite music, just like they used to when she was a little girl.

[kittiesjournal]

My Autistic Journey

It is typical to hear from autistic people that they grew up knowing that they were weird, different and out of place with other individuals and in social groups, and I am not excluded from that experience, however I wasn't the most aware of it as I grew up. I thought my differences were simply because I had different interests, hobbies and personality, not that my excessive “shyness”, restrictive and repetitive behaviours and sensory preferences weren’t something that would magically disappear when I got older. I remember having fantasies of how popular I would be when I got to high school… I was so terribly wrong. 

I won't lie, my memory sucks, I have a lot of trouble remembering autistic traits I had experienced in my early childhood. I find myself struggling to remember a lot of things from growing up unless I had paid special attention to those moments in time. However, the first moment I realised that I could be autistic was in Year 10, I spent so much time researching every single symptom I could. This revelation sparked a grand understanding of myself and I finally felt as if I could see myself better. The mirror before was always cloudy but now, I could now clearly see the glimmer in my eyes; a part of my true self. 

Things began to fall into place, this was the reason I felt so alien to the world around me, why I felt like I had never belonged anywhere. The year prior to my revelation; the dreaded year 9, was the worst year in my schooling. With an increase in my anxiety and depression, being bullied and being incredibly disconnected from my friend group at the time, it is no shock to why it was the worst. My social confidence and my skills are definitely lacking due to being autistic however the way i was treated within my old friend group did not help. I was constantly shut down and complained about when I would infodump about my interests, and excluded frequently. Now briefly, i would like to mention a funny little tale of my primary school years;

If I had a dollar for every time i was abandoned by my friends during break times after I had been in the bathroom, then  not being able to find them and ending up crying to my sister, I would have $2, which isn’t a lot but it's weird that it happened twice.

This, in my high school experience, transformed into being excluded from group plans and told things like “omg sorry we forgot to add you to the group chat - we totally will though”. Loneliness was my truest friend in that group. Although I had put on a mask constantly in hopes to be treated the same as the individuals in the group, I ended up, during break times, simply not talking. There would be maybe a couple words in response to questions but that was the first instance in my life my anxiety and uncomfortability caused me to become frequently non (or at least low) verbal. 

In response to my experiences with that friend group, I found myself repressing who I was and what I loved. I am still to this day afraid of info-dumping and often apologise after I catch myself doing it. I mask so much it instead feels fake when I am being my autistic self,  I believe I lost touch with myself. I felt so disconnected from people that it became hard to feel like I was truly friends with anyone. Many nights were spent crying because I am not normal, not like everyone else. I begged the universe to let me be normal. But of course, because im autistic, my brain just wasn’t built ‘normal’, I don’t understand how to socialise, I don’t understand non-verbal communications and don’t even get me started with understanding emotions. I could not understand why I couldn’t bond with people the same way they did with each other and often questioned why everyone was closer with each other than I could ever experience. I know that even now, I don’t think I could ever feel and experience friendship the way everyone does, and I missed out on that crucial part of life. It's like I'm on a different plane of existence, akin to the artificial intelligence in media that other characters may care for but never in the same, human way they bond with each other. Some nights I still cry. Some days I'm still extremely lonely.

In spite of all my troubles and loneliness I was lucky to find some light, in my later years of schooling and to the present time, I have some pretty amazing friends and I am slowly learning how to exist in friendships while being my more authentic autistic self. Weirdly enough, these friends are all likely to be Neurodivergent (i helped them realise) and i guess that makes it easier. Even though I have these amazing friends, I'm still learning how to be myself around them and I still at times feel disconnected - not knowing how to socialise and my other autistic struggles don’t just disappear. There have been many occurrences where I have completely fumbled and messed up in these friendships but they understand me better than any other friends I have had.

Some quick acknowledgements of two important people in my life;

I have had one consistent friend since year 4; my best friend and I am grateful for you, that you’ve been by my side while I've been figuring all of this out. Also I'm sorry that you’ve had to coincide with my autistic self since we were 10 (sorry i made you reenact frozen everyday).

And in addition to friendships, romantic relationships are another terrifying territory. I don’t know the right things to say, how often to talk and how to keep conversations flowing, flirting is a mystery, and I don't know how to show my feelings and at times it may seem harder to tell if I care. But, I promise I will. To my girlfriend, my dearest, I'm sorry and thank you for being kind and patient, for always supporting and encouraging me in all my ‘quirkiness’.

These experiences, my mistakes, help me grow everyday and due to the extensive support of those around me I felt encouraged and confident enough to seek a diagnosis for my autism. However my journey of getting a diagnosis was extremely rocky. The first time I had brought up my thoughts on me being autistic to my mother I was met with a “why” and silence, the second time she asked if I wanted to try and get a diagnosis - I obviously said yes. This began my experience with the company Autism SA. I completed a self-referral application to get an appointment, I was sent paperwork and forms to fill and send back, and was told I would have to be on the waiting list for 18 months. In the end I didn't have to wait the full 18 months, I got my appointment, I went in at 9:30am on the 6th of February and that afternoon I realised this was one of the worst days of my life. They told me I didn't meet the criteria (in the feedback report I received on a later date they wrote that I met none of the criteria - the biggest lie I have ever heard). The appointment was fraudulent, I felt so uncomfortable and anxious because this was something I had never done before with complete strangers, so I masked. They sat me in a room constructed for young children, just me and the speech pathologist and she asked me questions, but nothing too in depth about my autistic experiences. It was obvious she only knew autism as the basic textbook version of male-aligned traits, it was obvious that she; a neurotypical, allistic individual would never understand me. I have many regrets that day, i should have said more about my traits and experiences, shown a list of them, let myself not mask for once in my damn life -  maybe then things would have been different and i would be sitting here writing about how great it is to be able to receive help and be understood. Instead, that afternoon, I cried and cried and cried. For the first time in a while I cried in my mothers arms, I think in that moment she truly understood the autistic me. I had never felt so invalidated and unheard in my life, i felt more depressed and alone than i ever felt just existing as an autistic person in this unfit world. I still feel that way anytime i think about that day for too long, it's hard to write this all down. Autism SA told me it was most likely “just anxiety”, like what many AFAB individuals are told when they are actually autistic, as if my anxiety doesn’t stem from my autistic traits and struggles. 

This terrible moment in my life was of course not the end, life flows on and I had to as well- so I wrote a 5000 word document on all of my autistic traits to prove them wrong (i sent it to the psychologist who had been in charge of my assessment). 

After getting out the frustration and needing to feel validated for my experience, I am in a better state of mind. I read Chloé Hayden’s book Different, Not Less (and watched so many of her YouTube videos) and I felt seen, I felt inspired. So now, in my present self, I am learning to be my truest self, my special interests are accepted; I am creating art everyday and now I'm writing too. I let myself stim in around others and in public, i don't ignore my sensory struggles and instead i make accommodations and seek support for them. I can notice when I am burnt out and I take care of myself when I am. There has been so much I have struggled with in terms of my autism but I can write about those another time, for now this is one step. Now I am and always will be honest about who I am. I am autistic.

[nightcall99]

Dreams from 19.9.24

Dream 1: There was a gathering happening at my house, a party I think. Just a small group of people. He was there. We sat close together. After awhile my body seemed to inch closer to his and then our bodies were touching, like our sides. It felt so natura land normal but I felt a bit weird about it like should I disconnect our bodies. I should do so for propriety's sake. But I didn’t do anything. I let our bodies continue touching, it felt nice. And then something happened, I dunno how he did it because he hadn't moved and neither had I but within a split second my bra was not on my body anymore. I didn't know where it was but I realised he'd hidden it under the bed, hanging on a hanger. I was a joke I suppose but I didn't find it vey funny. We were in front of company. A girl from work noticed and she did a smile of shock but continued talking to her friend. She saw that on my top half I had only a cardigan. I buttoned it up and tried to hide myself. AL was there. I wanted her to help me, like cause a distraction so I could go get my brad. And she did. Then I left the room and went tried to find somewhere private so I could fix myself. I tried to find a separate room but the entire house was empty and kinda dark and it felt like for some reason there was no privacy. Like I was being watched no mater what. I just fixed myself in the spot not caring if there were cameras or people watching or whatever.

Dream 2: I was at a party in Northcote, some gathering. I was just sitting there and then AL had just arrived. She sat next to me. I don't think I was expecting her to get here like this. I said, I thought you were working? How'd you get here so fast? She said something, I dunno what, kinda dismissing me. She was working in Northcote too, the sister store) and her shift would have finished at 9pm and even if this place was closer by, only a few minutes, how she lock up and get here at like 9:02pm? Well I was very glad she was here anyhow. I wondered who was working tonight that they wouldn’t be able of make this party/meeting. I thought of the male student, JZ. For a second, I wondered if SM would be here. I assumed that the three boys (SM, JZ and JL the usual team) were on tonight.

Dream 3: I went into the group chat there was like 200 messages . I assumed it was because of the session that had just been released.

Dream 4: I forgot. I had a trip planned. I had known about it and forgotten completely. I had had 3 weeks of annual leave arranged in the roster for ages. In fact, I only had a day or two of work left, well in fact it was one more day, today and then I was leaving. This all crept up me on out of nowhere. But really, I should have known because I'd been staring at the blank weeks in the roster against my name and thought nothing of it. I thought I was just going to stay home the whole time but it turns out I had a Europe holiday planned. I was going with an influencer from Instagram. I didn’t know her very well but I liked her, it’s as though we had just met and I knew we got along and the opportunity just presented itself. I think she was the one to remind me that we were going.

I had to pack. I had started packing an age ago, so I guess more proof that I had always known I was going but I had never finished packing. The suitcase was tucked away at the bottom of my closet. I had inside some toiletries and first aid items, and some other stuff and now I just had to pack my clothes. I have to admit I was a little panicked but I knew it would be fine. The flight felt like it was tonight? Like I had one more shift where I would finish at 5pm and then maybe the flight was at 9pm or some time after it. Was that right? I hope so. I wondered if my original shift was 1-9pm which would mean I'd have to seriously rush to get to the airport afterward. I was worried I hadn't swapped my shift yet with someone but I had. Then I thought, well I think it’s actually tomorrow, the flight. I confirmed this with the girl. I also thought I had 2 more days of work left but it was only 1, or even not at all. For a second, I worried about letting MN know that I was going to up and leave with no notice but I realised I had already prepared that and didn’t need to worry. Obviously I had, because the roster reflect this.

I just had to pack. I wondered what shoes to bring. It would be hot. There were these platform sandals but they looked humongous. I realised it's because they'd come from the factory and hadn't been split from their mold yet. I cracked them in half and tried them on. They did fit but then some of the heel crumbled but I seemed to not really care. I didn't have a bathing suit and I knew we should be swimming at beaches and whatnot. There was no time to run to the store and buy one, but I could just buy one while we were in Italy or Paris. The bathing suits, while probably more expensive, would be more stylish. Then I wondered about the girl I was going with. We barely knew each other. I’m a weird person. And as if she knew what I was thinking, she looked at me and smiled and said, You know I realised you’re a quite a crabby person. I said, Well yeah, I am. I’m temperamental, my emotions change suddenly because I’m always in tune, or at the mercy of my emotional environment, it's so tiring. She understood. Well, at least she seemed to accept it. I knew this was a good sign she didn’t dismiss me. I also felt that she was intimidatingly beautiful, why was she hanging out with me? Then I realised I was just as beautiful as her. In the end, I felt that we would be good travel companions. I imagined us taking photos together and sightseeing. But then I thought about cancelling the trip. It felt like a lot of effort, to pack, to get along with this person I hardly knew, not to mention the immediacy of it all. I only thought like this for a few seconds. I had made up my mind that I was going to go. I knew I would have a good time, it would all work out.

[unkempt-field]

Mental Vomit (start)

I am fairly new to Tumblr, but I am starting up this blog as another way to vent out my thoughts, my stress, and other random stuff. For the potentially concerned Tumblr residents who might come across this, this is not really supposed to be a call for help. Treat this as a poorly written "creative writing project". I will delve into my own personal thoughts and feelings, and maybe even my personal history of less than fortunate experiences.

(TW: Suicidal thoughts)

I have tried to see a mental health professional, but as I am from the states, I could not afford to do so regularly. Also, I may use terms that have a specific meaning in that field, but completely incorrectly, for which I apologize.

I used to have friends who I'd talk to regularly, but now I just lurk in those circles. I don't feel too comfortable talking to them about these deep topics. I do also write similar things in a personal journal, but I considered writing something on a public blog to occasionally see what other people think as well.

I guess I'll write some stuff about my current mental state. Some people always have an inner voice, but I only "use" mine whenever I'm introspecting or reflecting on something. And due to the times I grew up in, that voice is similar to that of a youtuber talking to a faceless audience. Not necessarily expecting a response, just yapping about some topic. For many years now, I would spend late nights, or many times where I am alone or particularly mentally shaken to reflect on myself and my ideas. This started after a certain incident happened in my middle school years, which I may write on in the future.

This has helped me keep track of my mental state, and see how somethings change, and others stay the same. For example, since my high school years, I'd have something almost like a "verbal tic", where when I am alone, I mutter or whisper to myself negative thoughts. There were times where these were suicidal in nature, but more recently, they have been more about self-hatred. If you have seen videos of people doing "positive affirmations" while looking at themselves in the mirror, it is almost the opposite of that, where I tell myself how much I loathe my very existence.

I did have stretches where I wouldn't go a day without considering suicide, because I've always struggled with self-esteem, and I considered whether it would be more "efficient" or better for the world if I was gone. Due to the nature of my upbringing, I always felt a disconnect with my peers in school, as I was from an entirely different culture, and then a niche group within said culture. Throughout elementary school, I never considered myself to have "friends", since I would only interact with them in class, and never play with them outside of it.

I was very socially inexperienced, and even now, I believe I am less socially competent than I should be.

This, combined with a lot of other factors, have led me to have a certain level of hatred, or disdain for myself. It also wasn't helped that through grades and other efforts, I proved that if I applied myself, I was capable of matching up or exceeding some of my peers on some areas. Of being "normal", or "good". But I continually failed those self-evaluations, as in my mind, I lacked the ability to do so consistently.

During high school, I often considered committing suicide by graduation. I thought that if I saw no clear path for a "good" future, or some clear goal or motivation for what to do with myself, that I would be better off dead. Even after that, despite being fairly young, I thought to myself that I already had enough good life experiences, and that at 18 years old, I had already lived a "good" life, and to basically quite while I was ahead. Even now, I'm not particularly looking forward to any life event.

Whenever I felt like I didn't really have a hope for the future in recent years, the suicidal thoughts would reemerge with varying levels of intensity and frequency. If I made some mistake, even a minor one, I would constantly remember it in conjunction of other mistakes and consider ending my life to prevent me from making any more.

I understood that committing suicide would be selfish, considering my family and those around me. I knew it would be cowardly, since there were probably people around me who cared. But I never considered myself selfless or brave either way, which really made me get stuck in those thoughts.

Well, to end this first post off on a somewhat positive note, after reflecting and seeing that some of my teenage worries/anxieties went away with time, I hope that my young adult worries/anxieties also improve. And in terms of feeling like I have no good track record and a poor self-image, with recent opportunities in my life, I hope to change/improve on that.

I want to become more emotionally mature and improve/grow as a person. I have kept track of many of my shortcomings, and I will probably find more as time goes on, but I hope to be better in the future.

[androse]

To my friends

This is something that I've been needing to say for a while but haven't been able to put into words. I feel like I've been disconnected from y'all lately, like the last 3 months. I've been really depressed and i couldn't tell why for the longest, but I've been having anxiety attacks lately even just within the normal groups, i think I'm just afraid of being left behind and forgotten. but I've been too frozen with the anxiety at times that i just leave, i apologize for that, i didn't mean to be rude i was just in a state where i couldn't be around people. The fear of not saying or doing enough just felt like a boulder on my chest and i couldn't figure out why i felt like that. It's been really hard staying upbeat recently, but at this point i just needed to say it so it doesn't consume me.